#(((its just an excuse for me to post these cause i enjoy the most making their memes jgdjdgsh they're my favorite))

[ghoulspaw]

Yin and yang

[hirazuki]

Okay, see, the thing about your story ending on a negative/dystopian/'despite everything that's happened nothing has changed in society' note and doing so successfully? It needs to have been set up for that in the first place, and it needs to be done in an intentional manner.

I have nothing against works that reinforce how cruel/meaningless/pointless/etc. the world is -- I enjoy a fair few! -- but the works themselves need to be some sort of commentary about it; the plot might be demonstrative of the futility of everything, but the story never should. It should take that and build on it and use it to make a statement, underscore a point, etc. to its readers. Having everything carry on business-as-usual without acknowledging it, especially in a genre that's generally meant to conclude on optimistic, uplifting, and hopeful notes, comes off as callous and in direct opposition with the values it extols.

Plus, the story itself should never be futile because, then, well, it never mattered as a work and it makes no difference if you've read it or not. Which... that's just a badly written story lmao.

[neverendingford]

.

[midnighvtm4ss]

omg I feel like if anyone could write this right it’s going to be you. we need arthur FLUFF with a reader on her period!!!

RISES THE MOON

cw: fluff, toothaching fluff, period cramps, arthur is a sweetheart, please arthur marry me :( wrote this on my notes app, grammar errors

wc: 1,8k

a/n: this piece was so comforting to write aaa thank you anon for the request <33 i hope this will soothe anyone who’s having period pain rn, i suggest you listen to this song and this one, i had them on loop while writing this. This piece is shorter than the others but I think it suits the mood in a way,, idk ! enjoy!!

The last few notes of the sweet melody coming from Javier’s guitar floated quietly in the air.

The night had fallen gently over the camp, wrapping everything in a quiet, soothing stillness. The campfire flickered softly, casting a golden light on the nearby trees, creating a cozy circle of warmth for those near it. Most of the gang had long since retired for the night, leaving only the faintest murmur of voices in the distant watching post and the occasional pops and cracks of burning wood.

You stood near the fire, trying to find some relief from the chill in the air, but more than that, you were trying to ease the dull ache that spread through your body. The cramps had been like little devils on your lower belly throughout your day, starting as a minor constant discomfort but now growing into something more relentless, making you wince with every movement and your back aching with every step.

Your day was filled with chores left and right as some of the girls left camp and went into town under the request of various groceries items for Pearson’s wagon. You wanted to join them but unfortunately your body had other plans. You came up with a simple excuse and promised to go with them another time. You hadn’t mentioned the true cause to anyone—it was just your period, no need to alarm anyone after all—but now, at the end of the day, you were desperately ready to crawl into the comfort of your bed and hope the night might lend you some kind of relief.

Arthur had been finishing up his usual nightly chores, checking on the horses and bringing them fresh hay. He always had a fondness for horses, no matter if they were his or someone else’s. His love for them often found sketched freely in the various pages of his journal. As he made his way back from the hitching post his eyes scanned the surroundings, making sure the camp was in order for the night. His eyes, like magnets drifted to your figure near the campfire.

You could feel his eyes on you, catching the small signs of discomfort you tried so hard to hide behind your calm demeanor. But he noticed something was off, he always noticed. The way your hand kept drifting to hold your stomach, the subtle wince that crossed your face when you thought no one was looking—it didn’t slip past him.

The crunching sound of boots on dirt floated in the air making its way towards you. You knew who it was and you took a moment to regain yourself and put on a calm façade.

“Y’alright, darlin’?” The gentle rumble of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he came to sit down on the log beside you, his gaze full of quiet concern as he searched your face for any hint of discomfort.

“Sure,” You tried to smile through the ache, not wanting to make a fuss. “just a little sore from the day. It’s nothing.”

But Arthur wasn’t one to brush things off, especially when it came to you. He studied your face for a moment, his brow furrowing making a small expression line form between his brows in that familiar way that told you he wasn’t about to let it go. Without saying anything, he slipped a warm, steady hand to the small of your back, moving it in small comforting circles.

“Come on,” he sighted, his voice still soft but insistent. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”

He guided you away from the fire and toward the tent. You didn’t argue. The idea of lying down, of finally resting, sounded too good to resist.

The two of you slipped into the quiet of the tent, Arthur hand left yours to go and close the front flap of the tent and light up the creaky old lantern on the makeshift bedside table, the lantern casting a soft glow over the familiar space.

The moment you sank down onto the bed, you let out a long sigh, curling up slightly to your side in an attempt to relieve some of the tension in your belly. But even then, the cramps persisted, growing stronger by the minute.

Arthur knelt beside the cot, his arms folded on the soft mattress watching with that careful, gentle intensity of his. He reached for the blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness so far different from his usual hard front he put up with everyone. Then, without a word, he got up, kicking his boots away and settled down beside you, his large frame stretching out on the bedroll as he gently pulled you into his arms resting your head on his firm chest.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he whispered. His breath warm against your temple as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you higher against his chest.

You melted into him, resting your head against his chest, your body relaxing instantly in the comfort of his embrace. Arthur’s warmth surrounded you, his steady presence already making you feel better, more at ease. His hands, rough from all the manual work, moved with a soft, gentle care. One hand drifting under your nightgown towards your lower belly, the action far from sexual while the other moved to untangle your hair from the simple hairstyle you had for the day.

“That time of the month?”

You let out a muffled grumble against the fabric of his red union suit as an answer, making Arthur let out a small laugh.

“I can tell it’s hurtin’ you,” he said quietly, his voice low and soothing as his thumb began to rub slow, comforting circles over your stomach. “Let me help.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft breath as the warmth of his hand started to ease some of the ache. His touch was gentle, massaging your lower belly putting just enough pressure to soothe the tension without causing more discomfort. The pain didn’t go away completely, but the care in his movements, the way he held you, made your heart sing with joy making it easier to bear the pain.

“That’s better,” you whispered, your voice soft with relief. “Thank you.”

Arthur’s lips curved into a faint smile, though you could feel the ghost of worry still lingering in the way his hand moved over your belly, never stopping, never hesitating. “You don’t gotta thank me for takin’ care of you, darlin’,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’d do it every day if I had to.”

“Be careful of what you wish for, Mister. I might start to demand more if you spoil me”

“Oh I can’t wait,” he teased. “Forever at your service mylady.”

His words made your heart swell with warmth. Arthur wasn’t the type to shower you with flowery words or grand gestures, but it was in moments like these that his love showed itself at its truest form—in the quiet, steady way he was always there, making you smile, always looking out for you, even when you didn’t ask for it.

For a while, the two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in a cocoon of warmth. The moon rose higher in the sky and the outside world faded away. Arthur’s hand continued its slow, soothing movements, his touch tender and full of care, and little by little, the pain in your belly began to ease ever so slightly. You felt the tension melting away under the work of his hands, the cramps becoming a dull background ache rather than the sharp, insistent pain it had been just an hour ago.

“Y’know,” Arthur said after a long moment of comfortable silence, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet, “I remember Miss Grimshaw used to make me and John chamomile tea when we had stomach cramps.” his hands never stopped their movement.

“Marston used to drink a lot of it—that poor bastard always seemed to eat the nastiest shit he could find around,” he laughed lightly, reminiscing of the early days of the gang when a camp cook seemed such a privilege.

“Anyway, I can make you some if you want,”

You smiled against his chest, the simple thoughtfulness of his offer making your heart ache with affection. “That sounds nice,” you whispered, though truthfully, you were already feeling better just being in his arms.

“I don’t know how much it can be of help but it’s better than nothin’”

Arthur shifted slightly. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

Before you could protest for the lack of his warmth against you, he slipped out of the tent, moving with that same quiet efficiency he always had.

A few minutes passed, you were almost asleep when Arthur came back and with him the chill night breeze entered the tent waking you up.

“There,” he said softly, his deep voice full of quiet satisfaction as he sat the mug down the bedside table. He sat down beside you, pulling you up into a seated position before handing you the tin mug filled with the golden brown liquid. “This should hopefully help.”

You nestled into him, feeling the warmth of the mug and the steady, grounding presence of Arthur beside you. It was amazing how he could make everything feel better, just by being there—by holding you and letting you know, without words, that he was there for you.

A comforting silence fell on both of you as you drank your tea slowly, feeling your whole body relaxing with each warm sip you took.

After a while, the pain in your belly faded into the background, and you found yourself growing drowsy in the soft cocoon of warmth and care that Arthur had created around you. You laid down again and Arthur followed your action putting your head on his chest. His hand moved to your back, tracing lazy, soothing patterns there, his fingers brushing gently over your spine.

“Y’know there’s no need to hide when you’re hurtin’. You’re always helping everyone around, sometimes you gotta stop and look after y’rself.”

“Arthur,” you whispered, your voice full of sleep and gratitude. “I love you so much, I don’t deserve you.”

He huffed a soft laugh, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed another kiss to your temple. “Ain’t no such thing,” he murmured, “you deserve more than me.”

His words, so downgrading for himself yet full of love for you, made your heart ache in the best way.

“You’re everything I need,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyelids grew heavy. As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped safely in Arthur’s arms, the pain and discomfort of the day faded away completely, replaced by the quiet, steady warmth of his love.

[virq-qgo]

Wolverine x reader

Uh, yeah i know its been like two years LOL. Literately after posting my last fanfic my dog died of cancer. Got like super depressed lmao.. anyways i watched the new movie and i creamed my pants so i had to write the absolute worst fanfic ever. So like this is a warning, its been two years since ive touched my computer and my skills aren't that good anymore.

summary: going to the bar undercover with the man you hate the most had a twisted turn, not expecting to get shot or telling him your feelings.

warnings: cussing, bad writing, random character death, bad writing, not proof read, and this is really long for no reason..

You didn’t quite understand why you were being dragged along with this so called “mission”

It was just one bad dude who robbed a place, so why were you at a damn bar with the person you hate the most. Everyone was aware of this. You two couldn’t be in the same room together without an argument that almost leads to a fight. So why are you here?

So sitting on the bar stool with a glass of water in your hand, a skirt you were wearing too short and a top that left the mind to wonder. What made the whole situation worse was that your worst enemy was sitting next to you, the wolverine aka Logan Howlett.

You knew he was enjoying this by the way he was ordering shot by shot, it was disgustingly attractive the way the man could pour down the hardest liquor down his throat. Rolling your eyes, you focus back on the bartender, watching him make drinks and showing off to the drunken girlfriends or wives. Obviously ignoring the wicked glares he received from their partners sitting next to them.

“Hey, bartender.” you hear Logan call out. “I need something a little harder than this.”

“Nothing for the beautiful lady sitting next to you?” the man behind the counter smirks as he poured a drink for another customer. Totally ignoring Logan's request.

A soft polite smile sits on your face while trying to stuff down the unpleasant feeling you got from the bartender. “Only if it's on the house.”

“For you?” he smiles, “you can have whatever you like.”

Your eyes crinkle from disgust but to the bartender it was from joy. “Oh, you know how to touch a woman's heart.”

You hear Logan scoff while feeling his dark eyes on you. It’s been 10 minutes since you two have been here and you're already getting underneath his skin.

“Something wrong Logan?” you call him out, turning to face him instead of the creep you call bartender.

Logan rolls his eyes as he tosses his head back and downs his shot. “Show a little boob and wear a tiny skirt, and you get anything you want.” 

“Yeah, I would say you should try it. But you don’t have much to show..”

“Is that how you got here, getting passed around the team?”

 “Yup,” you say with a sarcastic smile on your face while pretending to count to the number 8 on your fingers. “Just gotta get into your pants and then I get my reward.”

Logan looks at you with a face of disgust not sure if you were messing with him or not. “Excuse me?”

Just as soon as you open your mouth to make a smartass comment. A sudden yell echoes across the room then the sound of wood breaking. Both you and Logan twist around to see the scene. There you see the “bad guy” you guys were supposed to be after. He had just brutally smashed someone's head into the table, successfully breaking the table in half.

“That a murder.” the words fall from your lips when you see the broken piece of the table

through the poor soul's head.

“Shut the fuck up you fucking clown. That's our guy.” Logan responded in a whisper. But when he didn't hear a snotty response he twisted his head to look at you, only to find your seat empty. Instead he saw you walking towards the scene, causing a deep growl to fall from his lips. Finding himself to chase after you.

Typically, you would leave this stuff for logan. But the guy was instantly on the run. And you didn’t really have a choice but to chase after him. “Hey excuse me!” You yell at the bad guy, instantly frowning as you see the blood cover his hands and shirt.”where do you think you're going, dude? Breaking that table and killing that poor guy? What an asshole!”

The bad guy looked at you, his brows furrowing. His body filled with rage. Who do you think he is and calling him “dude”. If you were here to stop him, then so be it. But you were just a girl, and women are weak. You were easy to dispose of. “Listen lil’ lady. I'll give you a quick death if you leave me alone.”

“I don’t think so, I need you to come with me anyways.”

The man sighs as he hears the words fall from your lips, “How annoying.” he thought.

“Hey, don’t you fucking run off on me like that.” You hear Logan say as he walks up next to you. Making you roll your eyes and turn your head to face him. 

It was so quick to happen you couldn’t even process it, the only thing that processed that very moment was the ear ringing bang that echoed through the air. Then Logan shouting your name. You remember seeing him running away, his face looking angry. It felt like you were standing there for hours, like you were zoning out. Then you remembered him, the guy you were supposed to get. But as soon as you took that first step, that's when you felt it. Burning pain spreads through your body making you want to cry out. Your hand instinctively reaches out to where you feel the pain, not expecting your hand to be bloodied when you pull it back to inspect it. 

You got shot. 

Now you remember why you guys were supposed to basically kidnap this guy, he was a mutant. His abilities were dangerous. The way he fought was with guns and his bullets being made by his blood, it's how he killed people. It was poisonous.

Soft curses leave your lips as you press your hand tight against your wound, but your blood was still pooling out. You felt weak, like you could barely stand and keep your eyes open. You felt as if you were gonna drop dead at any given moment. But you had to help Logan, you two were supposed to do this together. 

The first step you took, you felt your knee give out. Sending your whole body to the ground, but the impact never came. Instead you feel a strong pair of arms lift up your weak body, your eyes see logan. But you refuse to believe it was him. He wouldn’t do this. Why was your body seeing things?

“You idiot! Why did you run off and chase after him like that? You know you don’t have any special abilities to protect you if he attacked you, so why?” He yelled, Logan was truthfully more scared and worried than angry. He was running as fast as he could to the jet to get you medical aid. But he only had so much time to spare before your body was consumed by the poison.

“What happened?” your voice was soft when you asked.

“You were shot in your chest! I can see the huge fucking hole!”

“I can feel it.” Even though you were basically dying, you couldn’t help but make a simple joke. “Y’know, even though you’re a total dick. You have good arm muscles. I like the way they can hold me so tightly. I feel like a princess.” you smile “If it takes getting shot and dying for you to

care, then maybe i should get shot more often.”

Logan frowns as he hears your comment, still rushing to get you to the jet as fast as possible. “You’re so fucking stupid, you’re not dying. If you wanted me to hold you in my arms then all you had to do was ask bub.” 

A weight of relief went off his soldiers once he saw the jet, he was right there. But when he looked at you, he saw that your hand was pressed against his chest and your eyes were on him. Barely opened. “Hey, stay with me.” he comments. “Keep your eyes open, please. We're almost there!”

Your eyes scrunch together as you see his lips move but no words come out, it didn’t help much that you were fading in and out of consciousness. Growing up, you were told not to be afraid of dying because you could die at any given time. Despite all the missions you’ve been on and how many times you were knocking on death's door. You were never afraid. But today was different, why were you so afraid? Maybe it was because you're dying pathetically, or the fact that you're in the arms of a man you’ve fallen in love with.

“I’m sorry.” you tell him, your voice soft and weak. Blood drips from your lips and down your chin. Your hand grabbing his shirt. Everything was going by so fast. In the middle of a deep silence, you look up into Logans eyes, knowing these might be your last moments together. Pain rushes through your body and words fly out of your mouth before your brain can catch up, and you’re saying what you’ve always wanted to say. “I love you.”

He freezes, shocked at your words. He looks down at you, taking in your face, and the pained look on it. You can see his brain racing like a speeding train, and his breath catches in his throat. “You’re an idiot. Why did you wait till this point?”

“I- I thought I would have more time.” was all you managed to say before shutting your eyes.

Finally, Logan runs up the rail of the jet and sets you on the cot. Watching the aids surround you, immediately taking quick action. With the flight there and taking you into emergency surgery. They finally came up to Logan, who fell asleep in the infirmary's waiting room. Telling him that you were okay and would make a good recovery.

Without wasting a single second, Logan rushed to your room. His heart dropped once he saw your frail, weak body. Connecting to different types of wires and IVs. He felt terrible, guilt consumed his body as thoughts raked his mind, he could've prevented all of this, all of your pain. Only if he was faster.

Logan found himself staring at your body, wanting to reach out and take your hand. He pulled up the chair by your bed and sat down, his eyes switching from your resting body to the monitor. Finally mustering the courage to take hold of your hand. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t quick enough, I should’ve been the one. But I was so fucking slow, in my own god damn bloody mind.And  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I love you back, I was just so scared. Scared that if I told you, I would never get to tell you so again. I was so fucking selfish. But holy shit, I'm so in love with you. It hurts so much. But I'll make sure to tell you every single chance I get. I love you.”

“You better get started.” you say with a smile on your face. 

Logan looks at you in a state of shock, not expecting you to be awake. Without holding back, he basically launches himself onto you. Wrapping his arms around your weak figure, wanting to hold you tight but being so gentle with you. “You’re okay” he breathes out of relief, “You’re an idiot, but you’re okay.”

“I love you too by the way.” The smile on your face was wide, you were in so much pain. But you were so happy. Never in your life did you think you would be here, but here you are. In the arms of the man you’ve pretended to hate for so long.

“Oh shut your pretty little mouth.” Was all he said before pressing his soft warm lips against yours. 

If someone had asked you what it was like getting shot, you would probably tell them it hurt really fucking bad and wouldn’t recommend it. But if they asked you on a personal level. You would tell them that you would do it again if it meant that you got to see Logan care for you. But it still hurt like a fucking bitch.

[willows-escape]

My Angel - 1990!Erik x Reader

Pairing: 1990!Cherik x AFAB!Reader (gender neutral pronouns/language)

Summary: You woke up that morning expecting a peaceful, regular day, but you were quickly proven horribly wrong as things began to travel down south. Fortunately, Erik is there to try and relieve some of the pain - even if it is excruciating.

Warnings(/Tags?): menstruation, descriptions of extremely painful periods (adenomyosis/endometriosis), erik is dramatic but its okay he has an excuse, nausea, mentions of vomit but no actual vomiting, early 1900s appropriate period shame, blood and heavy bleeding, brief mention of reader not eating all day but it's only due to lack of appetite, reassurance, fluff!!!!, like TOOTH ROTTING sweetness!!!!

Words: 6.9k

Notes: this isn't what i originally planned to post today, but i have adenomyosis and when my periods come they come bad and the pain is making me feel very sorry for myself. and i did promise something soon. so this is just self indulgent fluff in the mean time.

the other thing i was writing will be entirely gender neutral, so people who do not at all identify with menstruation or just don't want to read about it will hopefully enjoy that when it's done!

DISCLAIMER - this is based off of my experiences with periods, which will not look like most because I have a gynaecologic condition. but if you do 100% relate to this, go see a doctor! like, yesterday!

The morning began like any other, with a restless night's sleep behind you. As you stirred awake, you found yourself alone in bed, but a smile crept across your face as you noticed the lingering warmth on the sheets beside you - a subtle reminder of a certain someone’s recent presence.

Succumbing to the lethargy that clung to your limbs, you reached for the nearest available outfit. The garments were wrinkled and well-worn, but they served their purpose of preserving your modesty. You slipped them on, grateful for the barrier they provided against the cool morning air, despite their less-than-pristine condition.

As you emerged from your bedroom, you stumbled, the door slamming shut behind you with an echoing thud. Your body felt leaden, each limb weighed down as if filled with concrete. Shafts of light piercing through the stone crevices assaulted your eyes, intensifying the dull throb that had begun to pulse at your temples.

"Erik?" your voice cracked, barely above a whisper. The name came out as a hoarse, groggy mumble, hardly recognizable even to your own ears.

Despite your feeble attempt at calling out, Erik appeared before you almost instantly, as if summoned by your whisper.

"Y/N! You're up," he said joyfully, his body adorned in one of his special going out outfits, "much earlier than usual, may I add. I was in the middle of preparing us a picnic before you have to go back up but-"

His gaze finally narrowed onto your hunched form, his previous relaxed expression shifting to one of concern. Your dishevelled appearance was evident - your hair in disarray, your eyes glazed over, bloodshot, and unfocused. It was clear that you were far from your usual self, and to put it lightly, appeared extremely unwell.

"What is the matter?" he asked. You hadn’t noticed it before, but the picnic basket he had been holding clattered to the stone floor, forgotten in an instant as his full attention focused on you.

As though his question was the trigger, a wave of nausea crashed over you. Your chest constricted, forcing you to hunch over even further. Your skin flushed hot in an instant, beads of sweat forming and quickly multiplying across your skin.

"Angel, what's wrong?" Erik's voice trembled, his words tumbling out in a rush. Had you been more lucid, you might have felt a pang of guilt for causing him such distress.

"I'm fine," you mumbled unconvincingly. His hand gently rested on your shoulder, and instantly your body betrayed you. The comforting touch seemed to signal to your system that it was safe to let go, and suddenly, you felt overwhelmed by a surge of nausea and dizziness.

A dull ache blossomed in your lower abdomen. Your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively pressed a hand against your stomach. The discomfort flooded your senses as your face contorted, a grimace etching itself across your features as you struggled to maintain composure.

Within moments, the discomfort escalated from a mild annoyance to an all-consuming agony that left you immobilized.

Shivers began to wrack your body. Your legs turned to lead, a numbing sensation creeping up from your toes. Simultaneously, a searing, deep-seated ache took root in your lower back.

If Erik was worried before, he was panicking now. His eyes widened with alarm, his breathing quickened, and his usually steady hands began to tremble visibly. The calm composure he typically maintained crumbled in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread and urgency.

Your legs buckled beneath you, your vision blurring as you felt yourself wilting towards the unforgiving stone floor. Erik sprang into action, his arms shooting out to catch you. The world spun as he scooped you up, your body limp in his grasp. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the sudden movement sent a jolt of agony through your core, the comfort of his embrace overshadowed by the searing pain that threatened to consume you.

With swift strides, Erik navigated the winding halls, cradling you protectively in his arms. He retraced your earlier path, arriving at the door you had just exited moments ago. With a forceful kick, he flung it open, revealing the familiar sight of your shared bedroom.

"I'm going to set you down onto the bed," he explained slowly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. "I’ll be as careful as I can."

When he gently pulled back the blanket on your side of the bed, you felt a slight jostling. Your attention, however, was abruptly drawn by a sharp intake of breath, his gasp cutting through the silence of the room.

"Erik?" you mumbled weakly. Your words were abruptly cut off as another wave of pain tore through your abdomen, causing you to cry out involuntarily.

Once more, you felt yourself being moved, this time to Erik's side of the bed. Confusion clouded your mind - why the change? But as you weakly lifted your head, the reason became starkly clear.

"Oh god-" you gasped, your eyes widening in shock at the sight before you. The vivid crimson stain on your side of the bed was impossible to ignore, its stark contrast against the pale sheets making your stomach churn with a mix of embarrassment and dread.

“I need to go find Gerard, you need to be seen by a doctor,” he declared, voice urgent and desperate.

He finally lowered you onto the clean side of the bed, and your eyes instinctively sought his face. It was then you realised his mask was off, likely because he hadn't anticipated you waking so soon. Without the barrier, you could clearly see the stark pallor of his unmarked skin and the unmistakable fear etched across his features. His typically composed demeanour had given way to raw, unfiltered concern that was both touching and unsettling.

He turned to leave.

"Erik, wait," you gasped, your hand shooting out to grasp his arm. "The pain is... excruciating, I won't lie. But I don't think—"

Your words were cut short as another wave of agony crashed over you. A strangled whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, your body trembling uncontrollably. The pain was all-consuming, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You clenched your eyes shut, willing the torment to pass, knowing all you could do was endure until it subsided.

"Where's the pain? Can you pinpoint where you're bleeding from?" his eyes darted across your form, taking in your dulled complexion and the sheen of sweat on your skin. "You're burning up. Do you have a fever?"

His questions came in rapid succession, but his touch remained gentle as he brushed your damp hair away from your forehead.

"I... um..." you hesitated, struggling to articulate through the pain. The situation presented a dilemma: discussing such a private matter with a man felt improper, yet the severity of your discomfort and the alarming amount of blood made it impossible to simply dismiss. You found yourself caught.

Another intense surge of pain rose in your stomach, but this one more overwhelming than the last. Your ability to speak fully vanished as your eyes clenched shut. Soft whimpers escalated into frantic, muffled cries as the relentless throbbing in your lower abdomen intensified, twisting your nerves and leaving you gasping for breath.

"Angel, please, tell me what’s going on," Erik pleaded, tenderly taking your hand in his. The desperation in his eyes was palpable as he watched you struggle to form words. “I really believe you need a doctor, please just let me-”

"No, please," you winced, your voice barely audible through gritted teeth. The words came out strained, a mixture of pain and embarrassment colouring your tone. "It's... it's not something I can easily explain," you paused, taking a shaky breath before adding, "it's rather private."

"Private?" he echoed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern. "Forgive my being impolite, but you are currently writhing in agony and bleeding profusely- how on Earth is that private!?"

"Erik," you implored, your eyes silently conveying your discomfort with the subject. However, his concern for your well-being trumped any social niceties. Undeterred by your unspoken plea, he persisted with his questions, determined to understand and help.

"If you explain what's happening, I might be able to help," he insisted. You gave him a sceptical look, but he pressed on, "my years in isolation weren't idle, I've acquired a vast array of knowledge from the countless books that have kept me company."

"It's just not appropriate for me to discuss this with you!" you cried in refute, your voice strained with both pain and embarrassment. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, your tone came out sharper than intended.

You silently prayed he would forgive you, considering the fact that you were enduring mind-boggling amounts of pain. Not only that, the fact you could distinctly feel the familiar warm leakage of blood trickling down your thighs and onto the bedsheets below was driving you utterly insane.

Shame coursed through you as your eyes fell upon the stark evidence of your debilitating pain staining the otherwise white sheets. Averting your gaze, you felt utterly exposed and vulnerable. An overwhelming desire to shield yourself from Erik's concerned stare gripped you, making you wish you could simply disappear.

However, your discomfort eased as Erik's touch changed. His firm grip on your hand softened, his fingers now tracing gentle patterns on your skin. Despite the worry in his eyes, you sensed his effort to stay calm for your sake.

Your heart tugged in your chest at the realisation.

"Y/N," he began, his voice tender yet hesitant as he tried to hold himself together. His gaze locked onto yours as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Please, put your shame aside for one moment and let me in- if only so that I can help you. It kills me to see you like this."

His ignorance of the situation was evident in the way his chest heaved and how he chewed the inside of his cheek with a vengeance. It was clear he believed you were in grave danger. You knew you needed to say something to ease his mind, even if it went against everything your instincts were telling you to do.

"Oh," you breathed, wincing as another wave of pain crashed over you. "It's... it's a delicate matter. Not something typically discussed in polite company."

"Do I look like polite company to you?" Erik's sarcastic retort was accompanied by a growing urgency in his previously calm ministrations. His eyes started to dart frantically between the blood staining your skin and your tired, visibly distressed face.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for Erik's potential upset. Despite your fears of his disgust or anger, of him calling you dirty or telling you to leave until you return to normal, a small part of you hoped he might be more understanding than expected. It was this glimmer of optimism that gave you the courage to finally speak.

"Erik," you began hesitantly, "are you familiar with the concept of... menstruation?"

The prolonged silence following your question spoke volumes. When Erik finally shook his head, it only confirmed what you had already suspected.

"Well," you began hesitantly, searching for the right words, "it's a process that occurs in people with uteruses. It involves bleeding and a lot of pain, typically happening monthly for one week out of the month. I don't really know much about the biological reasons behind it, but-"

Your explanation was abruptly halted as another shock of excruciating pain engulfed you. Erik, sensing your distress, quickly offered his hand. You latched onto it, your grip surprisingly fierce. As the agony intensified, your body convulsed against the sheets, and muffled sobs escaped your lips. You desperately willed the torment to stop, but it seemed endless despite your determination to endure.

"Fuck!"

Erik looked taken aback by your cussing, but seeing as you were squeezing his hand so hard he felt like your aim was to tear it off, he didn't focus on it too much.

Eventually, the pain faded back to its baseline ache - which was still extremely unpleasant, but manageable.

"I apologize," you coughed through your tears, your voice strained as you brushed away the beads of sweat trickling down your forehead.

"There's no need to apologize," he reassured, his voice filled with compassion. "I'm deeply concerned for your wellbeing, but I trust your understanding of this situation. If you say it's not life-threatening, I will trust you."

“Yeah, I'm definitely in no life threatening danger," you assured him, "but the pain is so intense, it almost feels like I am."

"It hurts so badly," you whimpered, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over. "Ever since I was young, I've had to live with such excruciating pain and such heavy bleeding that I can barely function or even leave my bed. It's so exhausting and I've lost count of the times I've passed out on dirty floors, lying in my own vomit because of this."

"I know, I know," he murmured, not truly understanding and internally slightly horrified but wanting to comfort you regardless. He gently wiped away your tears as they fell, his touch tender and reassuring.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "This is terribly embarrassing. You shouldn't have to witness this. You tried to regain composure, but the combination of physical discomfort and emotional vulnerability made it impossible to stem the tide of tears.

Suddenly, Erik began to move. Your attention was so focused on the hurricane of emotions swirling around your body that you barely noticed him shifting to your side of the bed. It wasn't until he began to lower himself onto the mattress beside you that panic set in, causing you to react instinctively.

"No, wait!" you exclaimed, your sudden outburst causing him to recoil in surprise. Realizing your tone, you softened your voice. "I'm sorry, but please don't sit there. I... I don't want you to get dirty."

"Dirty?" Erik repeated, his eyes flickering to the stain beneath him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "It's just blood, I mean really- it's not like I haven't been covered in my own fair share of the stuff. This small spot is hardly cause for concern."

"Erik, please, it's not just blood!" you insisted, the shame taking over as you looked at the spot where you'd bled. It didn’t help that you were in too much pain and felt far too weak to even do anything about it!

He raised an eyebrow at you. "How can it be 'not just blood'? Does your blood contain arsenic?"

You couldn’t help but groan at his sarcastic retort.

"Menstrual blood comes from a person's private areas," you grumbled, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you tried to convey the gravity of the situation.

He paused for a moment, then replied, "well, that certainly wasn't the answer I expected, but it doesn't change my opinion. Blood is blood, no matter where it comes from. Besides, fabric—and people—can always be washed. You don't need to be moving around for the sake of preserving meaningless things, you need to rest."

"But!-"

"Now that that's settled..." he shrugged off the jacket he’d been wearing and eased himself onto the mattress, inching closer to your awestruck form.

You were utterly speechless. He just- and then he- and he said-

"May I hold you? I won't if it causes you pain," he asked, his voice earnest and gentle. His tender concern only added to your bewildered state.

Words failed you as Erik gently pulled you into his embrace. The warmth of his body enveloped you, offering a comfort you didn't realize you so desperately craved. Despite the momentary twinge in your abdomen as he carefully adjusted your position, you found yourself melting into his arms. In that moment, his presence was a bandage to your pain-wracked body and troubled mind.

"Is this position comfortable?" He inquired. His arm gently supported the back of your neck, while his other hand rested lightly on your upper arm, providing a comforting presence without applying pressure. You managed a small nod in response, grateful for his attentiveness.

"Good. Now, where does it hurt?"

As his hand began to drift lower, more particularly towards your thighs, you suddenly realized the direction his thoughts were taking. Your eyes widened in a mix of surprise and mild alarm.

"Wait, not there!" you exclaimed, immediately regretting your sudden outburst as a fresh wave of pain surged through you. You winced, silently chastising yourself for your impulsive reaction.

"Oh. My deepest apologies," Erik said, his voice tinged with embarrassment as he blinked sheepishly. "I wouldn't have touched you anywhere without permission, but when you mentioned the blood's origin, I assumed—well, I thought—"

"Yeah, I know what you thought," you laughed breathlessly, wincing as another flash of pain assaulted your insides. "But contrary to your guess, the pain is mainly in my lower abdomen. Still, I appreciate your... eagerness to help."

His hand, which had been hovering uncertainly, now settled gently on your stomach. The warmth of his palm seeped through your skin as he watched your face intently, searching for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he took your relaxed expression as silent permission and began to move his hand in slow, soothing circles.

Your mind went blank.

The warmth of his hand on your stomach felt heavenly. The sensation was unlike anything you'd experienced before. While it didn't eliminate the pain by any means, it soothed the intensity more than you thought anything ever could. As his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles on your skin, you felt your entire body relaxing, tension melting away with each careful movement.

Your tears, once born of shame and torment, now flowed from sheer relief.

"Thank you," you sniffled, peace washing over you whilst your body finally began to relax. As your muscles slowly unclenched, the bed beneath you seemed to transform, becoming a soft, inviting cloud that cradled your aching form.

Erik could sense your growing ease just from the shift in your demeanour. He was well aware that the mattress and bed sheets were likely ruined, but your comfort and rest took precedence over any stains—especially ones that no one else would ever lay eyes on. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t always procure new clothes for you if your current ones were beyond saving.

"Rest now, angel," he murmured softly, his hand continuing its soothing motions. "I'll be here when you wake up."

As you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, Erik decided it was probably time to delve into those medical journals he'd long avoided.

What? He just preferred reading fiction, that's all.

As evening fell, you stirred from your sleep, immediately noticing the emptiness beside you. Your hand brushed against the cool sheets where Erik had been, confirming your suspicion—he had left your side some time ago. Disappointment creased your brow as you pondered his whereabouts.

You laid motionless on the mattress, your gaze fixed on the spot where Erik had been before you drifted off. The pain in your lower abdomen persisted, but it had noticeably diminished compared to earlier. Your skin felt clammy, and your throat parched, yet overall, you felt surprisingly okay.

"You're awake," a familiar voice called from the corner of the room.

Your frown melted away as you realized he hadn't left at all. True to his word, Erik had simply shifted to the corner of the room, maintaining his vigilant watch over you.

"It's 7:30 PM, which is quite an unusual time to start your day, don't you think?" he teased. You sat up, observing him sitting comfortably in the chair you two kept in the room for convenience's sake.

This time, he wore his mask, unlike earlier when you had awoken. Your gaze drifted downward, landing on the enormous tome in his hands—the bulkiest book you'd ever laid eyes on. Curiosity piqued, you gestured silently toward the literary behemoth he cradled, wordlessly urging him to elaborate on the book in his grasp.

"I know—this is definitely a hefty one. Thank god for chapter indexes," he remarked, weighing the book in his hands. "However, I must say, its contents are appallingly lacking in knowledge."

"How so?" you prompted.

"Well, this is supposed to be a medical journal, and yet, when I look for information on menstruation, it's woefully inadequate," he scoffed. "It merely states that menstruation is linked to the reproductive cycle and helps the uterus prepare for potential pregnancy. That's all."

"Well, that's still more than I knew before," you said with a shrug.

"It's obscene. I read in another book that it happens to half the population from around ages 16 to 50, and yet so many people have gone their whole lives not knowing why?" He shook his head in bewilderment. "And I thought science had come much further than that."

“You read another book? How many of these have you read?” you asked, astonished by his dedication.

“Oh, just whatever I had lying around. A couple dozen or so,” he replied, as if everyone just had dozens of books on medical knowledge floating around their abode. “But some of them were so old they attributed menstruation to miasma, so I didn’t pay much attention to those. And I also busied myself with books on herbal remedies and pain relief- apparently there’s this new medicine called Aspirin on the market? Exciting, but I can’t get a hold of that right now, unfortunately.”

As he rose from the chair, you noticed the stacks of books surrounding his feet. He hadn't exaggerated when he mentioned "a dozen or so" - they were all massive, thicker than any you'd ever seen! You racked your brain, trying to recall where in the cellars he might have been concealing these enormous volumes, but you couldn't remember ever spotting them before.

"I may be mistaken, but you seem to be feeling better than you did this morning," he observed, neatly arranging the books into orderly stacks rather than leaving them scattered haphazardly.

"Definitely," you nodded. "The pain is still present, but it's significantly less intense now."

"That's good," he replied, humming as he pushed his first pile to the side to work on the next. "You did give me quite a fright earlier. I thought... Well, I'm not sure what I thought."

"It's understandable. I mean, I'm not sure why, but I expected you to have some... slight awareness of the subject," you admitted, awkwardly averting your gaze.

Even though you knew Erik wasn't raised with the same rules and expectations as you, discussing menstruation still felt like breaching a taboo. The topic remained uncomfortable, despite your rational understanding that it shouldn't be.

"I do feel quite foolish for not being aware of it sooner. But then again, how many women do you think I've encountered in my life? Besides my mother, the answer is none. And even that meeting was brief," he said matter-of-factly.

You didn't really know how to respond to that, so you let a comfortable silence settle between you. Erik swiftly finished organizing his books, then hurried out to return them to their proper places. He reappeared within moments.

"Now, unless there are other aspects of your anatomy I should be aware of," he said with a hint of amusement, "I believe a bath is in order." His eyes darted meaningfully towards the bed, drawing your attention to the mess you had somehow overlooked. You were mortified as you realized the extent of the stains, which had spread far beyond where you'd expected, creating abstract patterns on the once-pristine sheets.

"Ugh, yes," you grimaced, suddenly noticing the uncomfortable layer of blood on your skin. "A bath is definitely overdue. But what about you? Have you had a chance to clean up?"

"You've been out for eleven hours. I bathed ages ago," he stated. "Just give me half an hour or so to boil some water for the bath. That way, you won't be freezing in there."

While you appreciated Erik's thoughtfulness, the sensation of dried, itchy filth on your skin was unbearable. The prospect of waiting even a moment longer to cleanse yourself seemed more daunting than enduring the bite of cold water.

"Don’t bother," you cringed, "I can't bear this feeling any longer. I need to wash off immediately, even if the water's cold. The discomfort of icy water is preferable to this... filth."

��Have some patience. It’s the late evening in a cellar right next to a lake, you’ll die from cold exposure,” he deadpanned.

Though you understood the logic behind his words, you couldn't suppress a playful pout. Erik's eyes rolled with amusement as he approached you on the bed. Leaning over, he tenderly pressed his lips to your forehead, the gentle gesture melting away your feigned disappointment.

"Are you sure you're not in too much pain right now? Tomorrow I'll ask Gerard to procure some herbs, but until then I have a few remedies I can try with items lying around," he asked, straightening up to look down at you with a raised eyebrow.

"It's bearable," you affirmed.

"Good," he said, moving towards the door. "Stay here while I set up the bath. If you need anything, just call for me."

“Trust me, I won’t be going far anytime soon.”

Thirty minutes later, Erik returned as promised. During the wait, you occupied yourself with daydreams and silent lamentations about your bodily predicament. You couldn’t help but be stuck on the thought that you’d be stuck like this until you were 50—you weren't even halfway through!

"Can you walk alright?" he asked, concerned about you putting any unnecessary strain on your body.

After considering your current condition, you replied, "I think I could manage, but would you mind carrying me to the bathroom anyway? I've heard blood leaves quite stubborn stains on stone."

Wordlessly, he obliged, gently cradling you in his arms. One arm supported your back while the other nestled beneath your knees. As he carefully lifted you, his eyes fell upon the crimson stain left behind. The sight of such copious bleeding caused a flicker of concern to cross his face, though he tried to conceal it.

You were supposed to bleed that much every month for a week straight without dying?

Pushing aside his alarming thoughts about your potential demise, he carried you carefully to the bathroom, his movements slow and deliberate. As he cradled you, you realized this level of attentiveness was something you could easily grow accustomed to. You made a mental note that future menstrual cycles would be spent here in the cellars, rather than hiding from him in the Opera Populaire as you'd done before.

"Thank you for today," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude. As you spoke, you instinctively burrowed closer, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

He let out a low chuckle, tinged with self-deprecation. "Thank you? I've barely done anything noteworthy," he scoffed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. You couldn't see his expression, but you sensed the frown in his words. "To be honest, I feel rather inadequate. I wish I could have been more helpful to you in this situation."

"Don't say that," you insisted, nudging his chest with your head in retaliation. "You've gone above and beyond what most people would do. You've read dozens of books today just to understand me better. You've prepared a bath for me and prioritized my rest over your bedding. Most men would have either shooed me away or fled in your position."

A door creaked open, plunging you into momentary darkness as Erik gently lowered you to your feet. Your voice softened with emotion as you whispered, "your kindness and attentiveness mean more to me than words can express."

The gas valve hissed softly as it turned, gradually illuminating the bathroom. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you noticed a plush black towel draped over the edge of the tub, ready for use. On a nearby rack hung a set of fresh clothes—their style unmistakably reminiscent of Erik's wardrobe—waiting patiently for you to don them after your bath.

He cleared his throat loudly, a gesture you'd come to recognise as his way of masking his flustered state. "It's nothing extraordinary," he mumbled, his voice tinged with a mix of modesty and discomfort at the praise, "just basic human decency."

“But-“

"Is there anything else you need before I go to clean up?" he abruptly asked.

You sighed, giving him a pointed look for interrupting you. Deciding to let it go, you allowed the shift in conversation.

"I can manage from here, thank you," you hummed. "But would you mind fetching my sanitary belt from my bag? I'll need it after the bath."

“Sanitary belt?”

"Yeah. It's a belt that wraps around your waist and holds a sanitary towel in place to collect the, um, blood," you explained, awkwardly gesturing with your hands to illustrate. "You'll recognize it when you see it."

With a tender kiss on your forehead, Erik departed, promising to return with what you need.

The moment he left, you wasted no time shedding your clothes and depositing them in the nearby basket. Eager for relief, you eased yourself into the bathtub, a contented sigh escaping your lips as the pleasantly warm water enveloped you. The soothing heat melted away any lingering discomfort, allowing you to immerse yourself fully in the task of cleansing. With meticulous care, you began to wash away the day's troubles, savouring the unexpected comfort the bath provided.

He returned shortly after, placing the belt on the rack alongside your other necessities. Once again, he inquired about your well-being, prompting you to playfully scold him for his constant concern. Nevertheless, you reassured him that you were fine, adding that the warm bath water provided more pain relief than you had anticipated.

He seemed on the verge of making a sarcastic comment—likely along the lines of "I told you so"—but thought better of it. Bidding you a final goodbye, he left to strip and prepare the bed, allowing you to finish cleaning up in peace.

You continued this until the water was doing you more of a disservice than it was cleansing you. Pulling the drain cover open, you allowed the dirty water to flow out and empty the tub. Silently, you thanked Erik for installing this modern convenience in his home—one of the few upgrades he'd chosen, despite his ability to afford many more.

A chill crept over your damp skin, urging you to hasten your routine. Goosebumps prickled across your body as you quickly patted yourself dry with the towel, appreciating how he'd made sure it was black and not white. You then clumsily secured the sanitary belt around your waist, wincing at its familiar discomfort.

Immediately after, you slipped into the night shirt he had provided. The loose-fitting trousers were a blessing, their gentle embrace and soft material accommodating your tender midsection without adding pressure. Once you finished dressing, a sense of satisfaction gleamed in your chest. You felt refreshed, clean, and rejuvenated.

You made sure to brush your teeth before finishing up in the bathroom, when the horrific cramps returned once again. Doubled over and jaw clenched, you shuffled towards the door with painstaking slowness. Your quivering hand fumbled with the gas valve, finally managing to shut off the light. The room plunged into darkness as you walked out, door falling shut behind.

Groaning softly, you shuffled back towards the bedroom, where you found Erik fluffing the pillows on your freshly made bed. He wore his night attire, and despite your discomfort, you couldn't suppress a smile. Even doubled over in pain, the sight of him warmed your heart.

He swiftly noticed your presence, helping you onto the bed to spare you the effort of weakly propping yourself up. He then approached the dresser, where a mysterious lump lay concealed beneath blankets. Unfolding the coverings, he placed his hand on the hidden object and nodded with satisfaction.

He refolded the blankets over it before walking over to you. Curious and confused, you tried to maintain an inquisitive look while fighting off the storm raging in your abdomen.

"I anticipated the pain would return once you started moving again," he said, gesturing for you to lift your shirt to reveal your belly. You complied, though your confusion deepened. "This is called a 'hot water bottle,’ a recent invention. Gerard suggested I try one to ease some discomfort from my... condition. It doesn't help me much, but it might work for you."

"How does it work?" you asked, flinching slightly as the bottle touched your skin.

"It's made of rubber and filled with hot water to transfer heat efficiently," he explained, helping you pull your shirt back down over the bottle to keep it pressed against your skin. "Since you mentioned the warm water helped, I thought this might be worth trying."

"So it's like a hot water pig, but made of rubber instead of stoneware and more convenient?" you hummed thoughtfully, resting your hands over the bottle for an extra layer of added security.

“Precisely,” he nodded.

As the warmth from the hot water bottle gradually permeated the blankets, you found it soothing but not quite potent enough to fully alleviate your discomfort. The heat offered a welcome respite, yet you yearned for more intense relief from the persistent ache.

"It does take the edge off the pain," you admitted, biting your lip pensively, "but would it be possible to remove the blanket? I think more intense heat might help even more."

"Absolutely not," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "Direct contact with the bottle could result in burns. The blanket stays."

After a moment's consideration, you decided that the risk of burns did indeed outweigh the potential relief from your cramps—at least for now. You nodded, opting to keep the blanket wrapped around the water bottle, appreciating its safer warmth.

A sense of contentment washed over you as you marvelled at how this day, which had started so unexpectedly, had blossomed into something truly special.

You were with the love of your life, freshly bathed and dressed in his clothes, tucked into a clean bed with a soothing hot water bottle warming your skin and fighting against what usually was traumatic levels of pain. Tears welled in your eyes as pure bliss coursed through your veins, overwhelming you before you could even process the feeling.

As the first tear rolled down your cheek, Erik instinctively sprang into action. You couldn't help but laugh through your cascading tears, raising your hands to signal him to relax. Though hesitant, he wordlessly complied with your wishes.

"I'm okay," you sniffled, your words punctuated by small sobs. "I don't know why I'm crying. I'm just so... happy. I think I'm really, truly happy."

His eyes widened behind the mask, a mixture of surprise and awe flashing across the few of his visible features. Unable to resist, you reached up, gently grasping his hand and guiding him to lay beside you on the bed. He remained motionless, seemingly caught between disbelief and anticipation. Your heart racing, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a tender, affectionate kiss that conveyed all the emotions words couldn't quite express.

Wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your night shirt, you clutched the water bottle tighter and rolled onto your side. You nestled into his chest, his arm instinctively wrapping around you as you melded into his trembling form. Yearning for closeness, you draped your leg over his hips, your body seeking every possible point of contact.

"But—" He stammered, shaking his head in disbelief. Bewilderment dripped from his voice as he continued, "You haven't eaten all day. Surely, I should prepare something for you—"

"No," you replied, your tone firm yet affectionate.

"You must-"

"Nuh-uh," you teased.

"Really I should-"

"Shh." You leaned closer, your faces mere inches apart as you rested an arm over his waist. He tensed at the contact, despite the familiar porcelain barrier between you. "Just stay with me like this for a little while, please? Afterward, you can make all the cold meat sandwiches your heart desires."

"You told me you liked those," he grumbled in playful accusation.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as your eyes shimmered with unbridled affection. If Erik were to meet your gaze, all he'd be able to see was the pure, unadulterated euphoria radiating from your smile.

"I do," you agreed with a nod, “but only because you make them with so much love."

"So, you don't?"

You hummed thoughtfully, tilting your head back as if deeply pondering the culinary merits of cold meat sandwiches. "They're good, but they could use a little something extra," you mused. "Maybe some cucumber for crunch? Or a slice of mozzarella for creaminess?"

He scoffed in mock offence, "That completely distracts from the flavour of the meat."

"Flavour?"

"I'm glad you agree."

You pursed your lips before releasing a long, deliberate sigh. Your eyes flicked from his face to the clock. The time read 9:45 PM, yet an unwelcome wakefulness clung to you—undoubtedly a lingering consequence of your excessive eleven-hour nap.

"I’ve completely ruined my sleep schedule, haven’t I?" you mumbled. "It’s late in the evening, and I’m nowhere near tired.”

Erik paused thoughtfully before replying, "I can make you something to aid with sleep, if you'd like."

"What do you have in mind?" you asked, curiosity evident in your tone.

He thought over the matter before deciding.

"I have some dried valerian root that I can steep into a tea," he offered. "I've tried it on rare occasions. It's quite bitter, but I can add some chamomile to sweeten the taste."

"You're so lovely," you giggled, unaware of how he tensed at the compliment. "So kind and thoughtful—you call me an angel, but I think the real angel here is you. My Angel."

He paused, visibly stunned by your words.

His voice was soft and hesitant as he asked, "you believe that?"

You nodded, a soft hum of agreement escaping your lips. "I do," you said sweetly, your voice brimming with unwavering certainty.

You felt the rise and fall of his chest as he took a deep breath, seemingly trying to steady his racing heartbeat. His hold tightened around you, drawing you even closer. A radiant smile spread across your face.

"So," he stammered, clearly flustered by the compliment, "is that a yes to the tea?"

"I'd love some tea," you nodded eagerly. "But could you stay with me for ten more minutes first?"

He nodded, and you both settled into a comfortable silence—a respite he seemed to appreciate. Your fingers traced idle patterns on his palm, while his gently wove through your hair.

Ten minutes passed in this tranquil state, and you quickly realised that maybe the tea was unnecessary after all. Every thirty seconds or so, you found yourself stifling an uncontrollable yawn—a gesture you noticed Erik unconsciously mirroring.

Your eyelids grew heavy, the combined warmth of his body and the water bottle proving irresistible. You drifted toward sleep at least five times, always jolting awake at the last moment before you fully succumbed. Despite your drowsiness, you yearned to savour this moment just a little longer.

"Do you still want that tea?" Erik asked, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

You shook your head and nestled closer to his chest. "I'm fine now," you murmured contentedly.

"Good," he replied, his hand gently smoothing down your flyaway hairs. He seemed on the verge of saying more, but fatigue clouded his thoughts, and he let the moment pass.

He yawned once more, momentarily pulling away from you. You whined in protest, but he shushed you as he reached behind his head to untie his mask. Attempting to place it carefully on the bedside table, he misjudged the distance, and it slipped towards the floor.

The mask remained intact, though the sound it emitted was sharp enough to make you flinch. To your astonishment, Erik seemed unconcerned by the possible harm. Instead, he calmly readjusted your position so you were laying as before, then closed his eyes. A surge of emotion swelled in your chest.

Erik had grown comfortable with you seeing him without his mask, though he typically preferred to keep it on unless taken by surprise or during the quiet hours of the night when you were both sleeping. His current indifference toward the mask could mean one of two things: either he was too exhausted to notice its near demise, or he had become so deeply at ease with you that he no longer felt the need to shield himself behind it.

Erik possessed other masks, but they could never replace his favourite. His primary one was treated with the utmost reverence, as fragile and irreplaceable as a feather. It was the one he felt most secure in and allowed him the most normalcy, therefore it was always his first choice regardless of other options. Yet now, without hesitation or concern, he had allowed it to fall away, as though its significance had vanished entirely, as if the bond between you had rendered it unnecessary.

You felt the urge to cry again, but not wanting to disturb his sleep, you suppressed your tears as you contemplated the significance of this moment for both of you.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. Though it could be mistaken for tiredness, the tremor in your words betrayed your overwhelming desire to burst into tears of joy.

After a moment, one bleary eye opened as he turned to face you. His lips curved into a genuine smile as he whispered, "I love you too."

'hot water pigs' are what people used to call hot water bottles, or at least their versions of them, just so you know lol. writing these fics always requires so much research into old terms and the existence of things that are now regular everyday items, it's kind of crazy. like trying to figure out how much was known about periods in the late 1800s early 1900s was a challenge.

[theoddest1]

Hazbin Hotel episode 5 is a rushed mess.

May just make this a continual thing where I review the episodes from here on out.

-Right off the bat, the pacing for this episode is probably the worst out of all other episodes so far. Things just begin abruptly (Lucifer's first song with Al for instance), no build up, 5 months have passed in only 5 episodes of barely any progress or focus on Charlie as a character, a random character that didn't need to be introduced but was anyway ruined the flow further, and this stupid ass rivalry all on the basis of who's the "better dad" is legit the most random conflict of any conflict so far. That will get a point all on its own along with some of the other things mentioned. The pacing left no real breathing room aside from 2 moments: Al's rise to power and Husk n Al's convo. I wanna say the second song would be a 3rd but it just resolves an issue that was present for seemingly years and pulled a "Stolas" with having a song or sob story as an excuse for the lack of effort to reach out and be a better dad. Lazy writing and pacing overall.

-5 months....5 months have passed with barely anything revolving around helping sinners or trust built around the main cast SHOWN ON SCREEN. We are told important information opposed to witnessing the progress itself. This is not only lazy but extremely jarring cause it feels as though episodes were skipped and bonds feel unearned. They get easily resolved in what feels like seconds, and we're just supposed to....deal with it. Angel and Husk barely interact throughout this episode, which, after the crazy ride they had, with the knowledge of a SEVERAL MONTHS passing by as well, you'd think Angel would be shown to be more chatty with him....which he doesn't. Nothing crazy, just small bits of them interacting and enjoying each other's company. Nah. We get that next episode, and even THAT'S lacking. I'll tackle that in a separate post. But yeah, 5 months, and we have yet to see the other guests' views and how it has changed for the better or the process of them realizing WHY they would go for redemption. How that has affected them. Nothing of note has come about from any of these. No other sinners have joined. No other demons seem interested in Charlie's Hotel. Nothing. We are told things have been done, yet it feels like we are still at the starting line, or well, a foot away from it and miles away from the finish.

- Lucifer is a joke. I don't mind me a goofy threat, it adds a charm to them but also shows that they take so little seriously due to their immense power....not Lucifer. No, that guy just....is a joke. Dude is in his mansion making fucking toy ducks for some reason and just has depression (show said it outright, not even depression is spared from "tell don't show")

He does literally nothing, doesn't seem to WANT to do anything, and no one respects the guy. Nearly all in the Hotel lack fear, intimidation, or admiration for the guy (Pentious is the only one who seems to exhibit admiration of some kind). The closest we got is being uncomfortable. That's it. Then there's his scuffle with Alastor. Tell me why he feels the need to argue with this sucka again? Cause last I checked, Alastor is a mere overlord, and Lucifer is The Devil. Wtf is this randomass rivalry that just...S T A R T S? Why does Lucifer get intimidated or moved by Al? It makes no sense. Lucifer has been alive far longer than humanity itself, but nah this random fuck who looks like he robbed a blood bank got him weeping insecurities? I'm supposed to take this sad excuse of a character seriously? How many of these carbon copy characters will Viv make until I finally end my suffering???

-Wtf is Alastor's deal? Why is he so pressed and annoyed? One moment he is as cool and collected as a cucumber and showing only SLIGHT annoyance (Vox and His song), then he goes to meetings and speaks with people far older, far more experienced, and/or far stronger than he show no interest and he gets pissy? How insecure is he that people not caring where he's gone or thinking his ideas are wack is what leads to his eye twitching and him throwing a random ass cuss. Seriously, THAT'S what got him to swear? That his idea for the hotel's name is stupid? BFFR! You can not be serious right now, THAT'S what gets him going? You'd think with how witty and chill he was in the pilot, he would find a quick and a effective smart-ass comeback, not essentially bitch at The Devil. This makes Alastor look like a thin-skinned wannabe, too cause these minor ass comebacks are why he has lost his edge along with some randomass song number?? And at the end of the day, Al just couldn't be damned anymore to even care by the end of the episode, he doesn't speak with Lucifer or give any stank looks, doesn't speak with Charlie, does NOTHING pertaining to the issues prior, nah, he just stands there and watches after telling Mimzy to go away. Some say he did this to simply piss Lucifer off, but that doesn't make sense (not saying it ain't true, just saying if it is, it's nonsensical). First off, if that were the case, why was he annoyed even BEFORE seeing the guy?

If he only wanted to get a rise, why is HE getting angry? Trolls usually don't care enough to be this pissed. Second, wtf would he even gain from doing this? What to help push Lucifer to be a better father to Charlie, request by Lilith to Al so that Lucifer can get his act together?? If so, that's the LAZIEST shit I have ever heard. Lucifer is such a joke, he needed a SINNER to get him back on track....

Regardless, this whole father shit by Al comes out of nowhere and ruins the goddamn flow of the episode. Prior to it all, Al has shown NO interest in anyone and has done jack shit. Wtf does he even do? He's done ONE thing so far and that was help for the commercial. Alastor has shown to be completely useless as of now.

-Charlie, why is she treated as tho she isn't a grown ass woman? She's babied to hell and back and despite being the daughter of Lucifer, hasn't shown any of her abilities to help the hotel. So Lucifer can summon shit but not her? Is she that useless? Also, gotta love how she never asks her dad about the Valentino situation to help Angel out. Man...what a great ass friend. She also doesn't find it weird that Al is just suddenly...babying her? She has zero awareness of everything, I guess, which is getting annoying now. You're over 200 years of age (went to high school in the 1800s according to what her comic was about, but guess that's retconned based on what happens in the following episode).

So she doesn't use her abilities to tidy up the place, she doesn't act her damn age, she doesn't do anything to help her sexually assaulted friend. What a damn joke, just like her dad.

-Mimzy shouldn't have been in an episode about Lucifer. Plain and simple. Her character should have been introduced in one of the earlier episodes. Not during fucking this. And we got a repeat of the pilot with Alastor's backstory retold. So they're down to retell his rise to power but not to make at least a proper recap of the events that happened prior? Key word....PROPER.

-Husk caring about Mimzy bringing trouble is actually fucking stupid. Because of the lack of proper build up to him now finding more reason to like the Hotel, it feels forced that he would be worried about what danger Mimzy brought. And on top of that, yeah...ALASTOR IS RIGHT THERE. You know who else is there? LUCIFER. I get it, Lucifer stood by and watched as the Hotel was being swatted, but he also sang a song about providing what Charlie asked for, meaning if she had asked her dad, he woukd be down to help, so WHY TF IS HE WORRIED???? Also , is Charlie just INCAPABLE of fighting for herself?? "She doesn'twanna hurt sinners-" so she had no defensive abilities??? What???? Also, that's a damn lie, she fought Katie Killjoy on live Tv. Are no other damn people capable of protecting the Hotel??? Why did Al need to step in for that? They were just LOAN SHARKS.

Anyway, the scene where Husk is probing Alastor about Mimzy and treating him as a pet is decently paced and the tone was pretty neat, sucks that this feels like their way of showing that Husk is also under a leash like Angel rather than him being treated as a joke, which btw...horrid way to compare the two. Wanna know why? One is subjected to an onslaught of sexual assault whether he was pushing Val's buttons or not, and forced to be assaulted by various men around him, passed around like a thing. The other is Husk, who legit disrespected Alastor and had to push at him to get such humiliation and terror, and guess what....Al still ended up pushing Mimzy away after she did end up bringing trouble, so he did essentially listen to Husk in his own distant way. This is the ONLY TIME we see Al be downright mean to Husk and probably the only time. Angel has been subjected to nothing but horrid assault after assault no matter the situation. So I better not see anyone say, "SEE LOOK, THEY'RE BOTH ABUSED" stfu. Nothing about their situations are even remotely similar. Just cause the chains are the same doesn't mean the users are. EDIT: Ima say this before people act like I excuse this. No, I am not excusing Alastor's actions. I am pointing out what happened on screen. Husk mocked Alastor, Alastor retaliated out of anger(much like how Angel retaliated at Husk in ep 4 after Husk kept arguing and mocking him) by pulling out the chains to shut him up. He didn't even hit Husk. Again, I'm not excusing it, just pointing out how vastly different Husk and Angel's situations are and how one overlord reacts compared to the other....who is a straight-up rapist.

-Both the songs are mid/ok but pulled down by the awful storytelling....shame. I at first was not fond of Lucifer's voice.....it's ok now, I guess. Idk. I'm still not really feeling it, though.

Episode sucked ass

Pacing was all over the place

ALASTOR AND LUCIFER ARE PISS BABIES

[yahoodarling]

Ayato/Thoma x SelfAware Gn Reader part 1 6.5k words

General warnings (not all themes are present in this post): yandere themes, mentions of suicide(in theory and enacted) and major spoilers for Inazumas quest line including character stories. 

Author note here: I understand the narrative style of this fic is going to be a little bit different than usual. This fic highlights a lot of internal thoughts and justifications so the description of things isn't as ‘fluid’ as normal. I hope you enjoy it anyway.  I want to post this as a ‘teaser’ of sorts but mainly to see how it gets received. The next update would be the completed fic. I see it potentially reaching 17/20k words but if people don't like the style then i'll just have to see. 

It's disgusting. It is discomfort incarnate to have such foresight into the fate of the world and yet be bound to its own laws of destiny, especially when what you were sure was to take place is altered. You no longer have any ground of understanding except the uncanny feeling that things are not as they should be, to be so similar and yet be so changed. You knew things will end up alright, as long as you do not interfere then Inazumas political warfare will reach a peaceful end and it did. You watched, noted those ‘special’ to the world, those who have a story, a life, a reason and you took the responsibility of not getting involved and it worked. You became an npc, avoided any confrontation with those deemed ‘special’, avoided any influence in the ‘plot’, watched as a hero came, a nation saved and a people newly united. It worked. Your foresight was correct yet… things changed. With no base to rely on, how were you to know what the ‘future’ must be, how were you to know what to avoid, who to avoid and what minor choice may change a future?

The hero has left, gone to Sumeru you guess, no, you know, you know the hero leaves for a new nation but so has your foresight and with that comes the change.

The one day gathering supplies, one day speaking to a fellow npc to fill some sort of social need, one day being in the ‘dark’ and you've caused a spark.

“Oh Aoi, good morning to you!”

He didn't speak to you, it was directed to the npc shopkeep you were chatting with and yet it grabbed your attention. Thoma is ‘special’, Thoma is relevant and so he must be avoided and you failed. 

Thoma spoke of how lovely the nights have been, of the soft whistles of sea, even to npcs Thoma was a gentleman starting conversation. He then noted how ‘unique’ your eyes are, a depth to them hes never seen before. That comment frightened you, made you rush to leave, to stop the change. Quickly you felt a hand on your shoulder,

“Please excuse my rudeness but how about we have a stroll? I know its unfair of me to ask a stranger such a thing but… you remind me of a home away from home, if you would grant me such a pleasure that is.” he ended with a chuckle.

You have been so realistic up to this point, so good at avoiding ‘change’ but you have a heart and knew all too well that whatever feeling Thoma is experiencing is something important to him. You have a heart and so you accept.

A single light hearted stroll became a weekly meet at the shop front, ‘coincidentally’, which became a personal relationship which became a friend. It's alright though, Thomas is a social guy, he's close with many npcs who never impacted the ‘plot’, you can be one such npc, that's fine. Change is fine. 

It's not fine. Meeting with Thoma you eventually met with other ‘special’ individuals you knew by name before they even knew of your existence. It's a weird feeling to know a person before getting to meet them, all the private details, their worries, their joys and yet to remain oblivious.

“A formal greeting from the Kamisato Clan, I am glad to see Thoma has a new friend. Do treat him well, sadly I must make short of this meet.” and the man who is most likely the most influential to whatever ‘plot’ is to come of Inazuma greeted. Kamisato Ayato was amongst your top ‘DO NOT ENGAGE’ list other than the archon herself and yet somehow naive bliss and a VERY convincing plea(almost suspiciously good) from Thoma to have lunch by the beaches near the residence of the Kamisato Clan lead you right into his ‘life’.

You have no ‘life’, you are meant to have no ‘life’, no value or effect and yet by each interaction with those deemed ‘special’ by the world your plans crumble.

Ayato then promptly bowed and walked out the residents gate, a body guard joining him as he started his track along the path you had just taken towards the city.

“ah right, he has that meeting. A pity, if his schedule was more open id have asked for him to join us.” Thoma turned to you with a quick hesitant smile, “he's really not as imposing as you may think he is. ah well… maybe he still is but just in a different way then what the people expect. If you'd like, maybe I could let you know when my lord and I are doing something casual, if you would be comfortable with that of course.  I forget just how intimidating the idea of being casual with a clan lord can be to someone who doesn't know him as well as I do.”

“Thank you for the offer Thoma but i'd like it if we just kept it the two of us. You are right, the idea is a little frightening right now.” 

You knew what Thoma meant by all that, he means that Ayato is a genuine person underneath his political mask. Ayato is a brother, a friend and a man caring for those deemed under his protection and to those lucky enough to see under his mask they may be met with the unlucky fate of becoming a target to his mischievous nature. 

Still, the idea of getting involved with someone so influential is nauseating even if just for something ‘casual' as Thoma has in mind. In truth you shouldn't even be here, here near the Kamisato Clan, here near someone like Thoma, here in Teyvat in the first place. You shouldn't be here. 

“I see, that's expected haha.” Thoma smiled at you wildly, reaffirmed at the idea of something going on in his mind (if only knowing what said idea was was as easy as opening a character profile and reading a line directly out of his thoughts) “Well we are still here for a good time. Let me get that blanket and pillows for the beach quickly. You are going to love it!” Thoma quickly skipped into the yard of the clans walls while you waited outside and watched as the npcs you recognized pattered around the area. 

That one person at the commission board, you had forgotten his name by now after fulfilling Inazumas reputation months ago. There was the old lady sweeping in the yard, what did she comment on again? … … it never came to you, it was all forgetful anyway. 

A sudden feeling of envy hit you. They were forgetful, oh how lovely that would be to ease your nerves. To know that each day the sun rises you can follow your coded script without fear of altering the fate of the very universe by the time the sun goes down. Wow, you've messed up haha. 

Thoma returned quickly as promised, a blanket and two pillows clutched under one arm as a basket was held in another but probably most heavy of all was the giant smile on his face, wrinkling his cheeks with a sense of genuine happiness. No wonder you messed up, it would be impossible to say no to him. It's all his fault and yet you felt you could never put the blame on him. 

“Well, sorry to have starved you of your lunch for so long, we are nearly there and I can't wait to see your reaction.” Thoma then lead you through a short path of the surrounding forest and down towards the beach. 

Perhaps your recollection of the game isn't accurate, you could have sworn a group of enemies should be nearby the beach here but all along the coast line was just gentle laps of the waves apon white sand. Thoma layed out the blanket with little worries evident on his face, he placed both pillows down then removed his shoes, each unclad foot stepping on the blanket to avoid spreading sand all over it, you promptly did the same, sitting down and placing the basket you had down next to his. 

“This place is lovely at any time of the day but especially during sunset, I would have asked for you to join then but I feared it would make things inconvenient for you but still, spending the afternoon here is just lovely nonetheless.” he criss crossed his legs and then beamed at you.

“Come on then, don't keep me waiting, i'm dying to try out one of your baked goods.”

Right. One of the first things you did when you realized you were now living in the game was (panic, cry, internally scream in confusion as to how this has happened and if your world will keep on going and you aren't in it) actually to set up an identity for yourself. Running around and claiming to have come from another world and how you somehow know very personal details of select people and the future fate of the nation would lead to either your banishment or a future altered and possibly worse where peace was not founded, the resistance killed off and the entire plot of the ‘game’ thrown off. Not a good idea. Instead you tried to incorporate yourself into the ‘npc lifestyle’ as quickly as possible. You came up with a backstory that befit this world, you are a failed Sumeru scholar who has come to Inazuma to lead a new simple life outside of your failures. (In truth you stole inspiration for the backstory from some npc you think was on Sangonomiya Island.) It makes sense, people you tell won't  ask you more about your past details in fear of being insensitive and Sumeru scholars are sometimes brought to Inazuma. You explained your (fake) predicament to a shop vendor who referenced you to the local baker who took you on. Now you bake goods behind the walls, don't face any customers and have a very npc-like backstory and job. You set yourself up well which was helped by all the knowledge you have of this world. Too bad you messed up all that work and are sat in front of someone ‘special’. Maybe you can salvage the situation, maybe it's not as bad as you think it is, you only have ‘maybes’ which isn't helpful since you had a ‘definitely’ to rely on before Inazumas ‘quest’ was finished by the hero. 

You just smile at Thoma and reach your basket. “I made some simple bread rolls and brought some butter and jam but I also made some black sesame biscuits before leaving work. Thanks again for convincing my boss to let me off early today, things get busy there.”

“Not a problem, I don't often take days off either but I think I just needed a break today and imagined it would be a nice chance to get to know you more. How about you pass me one of your rolls in exchange for a serving of okonomiyaki? Sorry it's probably cold by now but should still be good.” He reached into his basket taking out some wooden containers as well as some cloths, likely for cleaning any spillages, and handed you one with you exchanging and giving him a roll and butter from your pack. 

You both nibbled at each other's creations, the bread rolls were still slightly warm on the inside since you had baked them before leaving, which Thoma commented on how lovely it is with the butter. The okonomiyaki you took pieces out of was cold but packed with various spices and toppings which really highlighted Thomas skills. 

“I just love that we can do this!” Thoma announced after his last bite. “I love getting to make and share things with friends, it's touching the combined effort put into it as well as the delicious outcome we get to enjoy. Haha, my lord and I do a similar thing but its outcome is not as enjoyable as warmed bread and butter, if anything it's concerning haha. Remember how earlier I said how he can be a little intimidating, our little cook outs are one such example. I really have to steel myself for those.” he chuckled and then leaned down on his elbows.

Once again, what he's trying to explain is something you already know of but need to act oblivious to. You have to convince yourself to be unaware and yet need to be aware enough to avoid ‘changing’ anything, this task has grown rather wearing but is essential to keep up your act. 

“Oh? How could cooking together turn out so threatening? You two are close though.”

He laughed

“It's because we are close that he feels he can torment me with his cooking. I swear, i'm surprised i haven't kneeled over and died yet. Worst part is he knows its tomenting, it's the best part to him! Agh- i've had so many of my own treats i've made be ruined by whatever his plan is. Haha, its amusing to look back on but just so daunting in the moment. When I said we could do something ‘casual’ with him I do not mean having one of these cook outs haha, I could never subject you to that.” 

The nature of the conversation stayed light hearted, you both exchanging from your baskets while sharing stories or light hearted moments, you had altered your side of things a little, you spoke truth of personal events but under the filter to fit with your backstory, that way lies couldn't catch up with you or forgetting lots of little made up details. The outing was rather pressuring in concept, so much could go wrong since you are involved, but in reality it was very nice. You had kept yourself back a lot when it comes to building relationships with the people around you in fear of your influence potentially changing something important but you are still human and still have social needs but even people like your boss, coworkers and the shop vendors you chat with in passing never fit what it meant to have a friend, to have someone to sit next to and simply have a good time with. 

Maybe you've been in this world for too long, you fear you may slip into making a ‘normal’ life here now that you've had a taste of what it means to ‘live’.

The sun started moving, waves became more rash upon the shore and the signs of the afternoon turning to evening became evident. You started packing up your basket and containers, lightly chatting on with Thoma about the seaside. To the side you heard footsteps and Thoma sat himself up straight to look at the oncomer. 

“Oh! Done with the meeting my lord?”

Your hand slipped in fright, the container lid clattering as you tried to put it with its matching box. Shit, why is he here? Shouldn't Ayato be too busy? Isn't that one of his whole character points? Not once was ‘strolls on the beach’ mentioned in any of his character lines. You looked up and smiled at him in greeting, your face tugged up tensely and trying very hard to look at ease. You decided it would be easier to let Thoma handle him and just got back to packing your things away. 

“Good evening to you too,” he chuckled softly and shifted his gloves, “the meet is done without any problems. When I got back home I wondered if you were still out here, seems I was right. I can now also fix a prominent mistake of mine.”

Even though you tried your hardest to avoid eye contact and look busy it's not like you had mountains to put away, you were left empty handed with a pair of well polished shoes in front of you, their sheen contrasted with the speaks of sand now defiling them. You took a breath in and looked up properly to meet his gaze. 

“I do apologize for being so rash earlier, I would have liked a proper introduction. As you can surmise i am Ayato, Thoma has mentioned of you before and I am glad to have the honor of meeting you in person.” he smiled in greeting, no doubt he would have offered a hand or a bow if you both were at the same height but for now a smile would do. 

“Right, it is truly an honour Lord Ayato. Thank you for extending your welcome to me.” you bowed slightly.

He laughed slightly, deeply amused. 

“Do just call me Ayato in private like this and last I recall, yes my property is in the area but that doesn't warrant me the entire beach side. In truth I have not welcomed you at all.” 

Thoma sighed slightly, “My lord please don't tease them so readily, I would like to eventually re invite them here but I can't do that if you've scared them away.”

“Of course, maybe then I can truly offer my welcome and they may join us to tea in the confines of the clan.”

Thoma sighed again at the slight continuation of Ayato's mischief. You took the opportunity of their exchange as an opening and stood up.

“Thank you for the food today Thoma and for bringing me to such a lovely place. I'll get going before it gets too late.”

“Oh, let me walk you back then.”

You shook your head in defiance, “No need, I know the way and it doesn't make sense for you to walk all the way just to have to return. Bringing me here was amazing in itself.”

You turned to Ayato and bowed again, less in respect and more so to keep away from eye contact. 

“Thank you again Lord Ayato. Stay well.” and quickly you make your way off the sands of the beach and towards the trek back home into the outer city. 

Thoma and Ayato stayed still, simply watching you go in silence until you were out of eyesight. It was Ayato that broke the silence.

“You are sure they do not carry any ill intent?” he said monotonously, still looking at the spot you disappeared to.

“I am sure. They are a decent person and I double checked, they don't have a past linked to any organization. Sure they are rather anxious, I see it often, a little skittish at times and slightly paranoid but it's not at the prospect of the clan. Haha, if you've taught me anything it's to be aware of people's intentions, if anything they are trying to run away rather than to get close. I can assure you, they don't have an agenda against the clan.”

Ayato breathed out, then turned himself to properly look at Thoma, his face relieved. “If that's your judgment it must be true then.”

…

An odd moment of silence spread between the two of them on the beach, both looking out as the sky took on warmer hues of yellow and orange clashing with its deeper blues. 

“You've been coming here a lot more recently and to have invited a friend here as well, has your mind been on your homeland?”

Thoma chuckled and leaned back out on the blanket, now dusted with sand and corners crinkled after the day's events, “I have. Thinking about the mountains of Mondstadt and all the memories just out there across the ocean. It's not in a sad sense, not at all, it's just that recently-,” he paused, looking away from the ocean and down to his lap, slightly gnawing on his lip in thought, “recently i've felt more… connected with myself. It's a nice feeling if not slightly concerning. I feel i'm getting to know myself better but it also just clearly shows how much i have yet to discover.” He sighed, closed his eyes and fully laid down on his back. 

Ayato looked down on his friend, doing as he does best and figuring out just what was going on in his mind, his feelings, the reasons for such feelings and the potential catalysts that brought them about. He kneeled down onto the blanket beside his friend, form straight from a lifetime of practice. 

“Does your new friend have anything to do with it?” he asks only to be met with silence, Ayato doesn't need an answer, he already knows it's true but just why that is so is still unknown.

“It isn't that you have fallen for them have you? I didn't think of you as one for love to occur after a reasonably short time.”

Thoma opened his eyes languidly and responded this time.

“I don't think it is love. Not yet but… i'd say i've definitely fallen for them haha, in whatever way that is i'm not sure but it feels… unbridled in nature.” he closed his eyes once more and shook his head at his own emotions. He tugged on a smile and relieved himself of his weighing thoughts, “So i'd appreciate it if you don't chase them away okay? I look forward to figuring out what's going on with both myself and with them.”

Ayato nodded wordlessly, not needing to disturb the quiet with a response.

…

“Ayato, did you notice the look in their eyes? It truly just- it just instantly made me feel like i was reliving my home town but also… not. It was familiar but also so foreign.”

“I hadn't gotten a good look at them in truth. They seemed rather determined in keeping their eyesight on anything but me.”

Thoma nodded in acknowledgement, “Makes sense. I do hope they warm up to the idea of the three of us doing something together eventually. Haha, once they've settled their nerves they are very comforting to talk with, I think you'd like them.”

Comfortable silence stretched along the two, the shades of yellow and orange in the sky deepening to reds and purples. 

In time Ayato stood up, no doubt with the intent of work to finish. He turned to leave before side glancing at Thoma. 

“The nobushi that often occupy these beaches, you've disposed of them correct?”

“Did it just this morning to make sure the beach was safe for today as well as to clear out the threat they bring.”

Ayato sighed in annoyance. 

“I still can't understand how those ruffians believe they outwit us, thinking being close to the clan means they may spot our vulnerabilities.” he shook his head slightly, like the ‘danger’ the oathless samurai possessed was nothing but a pesky fly. 

He then made his way back to the clan home leaving Thoma to steep in his own thoughts. 

It was after this interaction that you decided to cut things down. At first you imagined Thoma to be the safest ‘special’ person to come across, given how social he is and loved by many you could become a face in the crowd while also tending to your social needs and appeasing Thoma who, and you still wonder why, wanted to get closer to you. Following the path you've taken recently, of course you were wrong, infact Thoma should have been on that list of ‘DO NOT ENGAGE’ for the very reason you thought it was safe to, he's social. Very quickly you had realized in your time meeting with him that he would smile and wave to many walking by, one such instance was panic inducing when you noticed Yoimiya come over to greet him. Before she had fully skipped up to the both of you you had promptly dismissed yourself and ran back to the confines of your walls to avoid meeting someone so ‘special’. 

This was Thomas' problem, he is the network that is connected to so many ‘characters’ that by staying by his side means undoubtedly meeting with the others. Today's incident was clearly that, you met Ayato, you were right there at the clan bordering the line of stepping into the grounds of one of the most impactful places of Inazuma and it was Thoma that had convinced you to do so. You had been too lenient on your rules recently, too selfish. You don't follow these rules you've written up for yourself because you want to but because you know it's for the better of the future and altering such a future because you can't stay inline is selfish to every being in Teyvat that could possibly be influenced by your choices. 

To live means to influence your environment, to live means to leave an impression that proves your existence. You wish for nothing right now other than to ‘die’, be void of life and find comfort in that, to finally release the stress of what it means to have all this information of the world and not belong in it but you are still human, you have needs to fulfill and ‘dying’ is not one of them. 

It was time to cut Thoma off, it hurt because you knew it would hurt him but it would be better this way. That night you closed your eyes to rest, determined on your new path but gut wrenching in a myriad of emotions, fear, pressure, uncertainty, sadness. You haven't slept well ever since coming to this world and that night was no different. You fell asleep cursing the ground you walk on, cursing the details that swamped your mind, cursing your very existence and the trouble it causes to both this world and yourself. 

Seperating yourself from Thoma was simple, firstly you changed your shopping time, no longer ‘coincidentally’ meeting with him like you had these last few weeks. Secondly, you asked your boss for more work, that way you have an excuse. You aren't a ‘bad guy’ for just leaving Thoma, no its because work has been busy and you just don't have the time. This system worked, you hadn't stumbled on him while in the city and the few times he did come to your workplace you simply told him that you were busy and needed to get back to work. This system went on for weeks and was perfect for devoiding your existence of ‘live’, which yes was depressive, you could feel yourself go mad at the amount of work you put on yourself and lack of outlet, but it worked. The extra work did help with the issue of mora as well (the value of mora being confusing ingame where how a single egg was 400 mora and yet 1 mora is represented as a single coin but you realized quickly it was just the ingame market system) which lightened the financial strain a little. You worked from early mornings to late nights, arms dead by the end of the day. In truth you know it isn't a healthy cycle, often coming home and skipping meals just to bathe and sleep, but it was necessary. 

Inazumas rains soaked the land, luckily no thunder was present but the trek from the city to nearby village was still made difficult in the wet weather. Your eyes focusing and unfocusing, legs on autodrive walking you towards a particular customer of your workplace who the boss is very fond of. The old lady you were delivering to had been coming to the bakery for years but in her age can no longer make the walk to the city. Your boss found it mandatory to provide for such a loyal customer and so your weekly walk to deliver her breads was on the way. 

In the rain was silence, just the sound of your wet shoes on the mud and the rhythmic clank of the wooden box you carried and its latch. The world began to blur, shapes and colours combining as the rain obscure your vision and the melody of your steps, the rain's patter and the wooden latch soothed your mind. Peaceful, a sleepwalk yet not unconscious. 

Peace is never retained. 

“Look, a stray lamb. Ha! The rain brings fortune indeed.” a swallowed out voice but a few steps away from you got you out of your daze. A wandering samurai, perhaps 3 all together, walked from the side of the path towards you from the river. If this had been ingame the confrontation would be nothing more but an annoyance, 4 ‘characters’ to choose from to easily snuff them out or the option to just run away until they gave up chase. In reality this confrontation means little less than a deathly denouement. Heavily armed, well trained men with seemingly no morals and a thirst for sick entertainment against a human bering no vision, a basket of bread and a fatigued body leaves little wonder as to how this will end. Panic arose at the realization, the very human phenomenon of ‘fight or flight’ kicking in, and as a baby bird strives to the air you push off your feet, adrenaline quickly awakening your senses and urged your body to a change of direction and just as a fledgling's first flight you fall. Hard. Your mind may have awoken but your body had not caught the message, instead you lay your head in the dirt, all motive diminished, just your sad existence lay bare for a bunch of hostile mobs, stupid coding of copy paste enemies, to take your life. In all honesty this is perfect, you wish to retain as accurate to an npc life as possible? What better way than to die a meaningless death. That brought enough comfort to you to allow yourself to close your eyes (disregarding the other factors such as shock, exhaustion and most likely a concussion from the fall)

Perhaps a few of your questions will be answered now, if you die here will you reawaken into your own world? Will the months of lifetime in this fictitious game be nothing but a dream or will you truly die and merely sink into the mud as nothing more than a mistake upon this world? Neither as it seems the feeling of the rain pelting on your body ended, the sounds of swords being drawn and clashing washed away and your head, though still paining, layed on something far more welcoming than wet earth. 

“Are you regaining consciousness then?” you feel hands lean your body up, a hand moving you face side to side prompting your eyes to open. They are met with the analytically eyes of Ayato still looking over your features for whatever wear and tear you may have gathered. 

“To have fallen so gracefully in such a life threatening moment, truly your abilities are unmatched to any I have seen before. I am surprised you garner such mud and bruising, I had expected you to be dressed in only the most comfortable of clothing by the way you so effortlessly went to rest.” Oh for fucks sake-

You properly awaken, now relying on your own balance to stay sitting upright and Ayato moving his hands away only to have his eyes peering closer to you. You swipe at your face, lumps of mud clinging to your hand in turn. You heave a sigh just to gather yourself for a moment before speaking. 

“What happened? Why would you be here if it means I'm not dead? Ah- sorry,” you jumped into accusations before even giving thanks, not suspicious in the slightest, “my head is still sore. Sorry, I must thank you for rescuing me, I would be dead if not for you.” 

Ayato hummed and nodded his head. “To answer your question, I was on my way to the city before the rain started, not wanting to get wet I waited here under this shelter until I saw you stumble right into that group of noboshira and now we are sat here. As for your apology, it's accepted, you are welcome.” 

Why was he acting like this? Mischievous sure but with a slight hint of pride or cockiness in vulgar terms. Sure he's a noble but usually he adores the ‘polite lord’ act rather than ‘cocky aristocrat’. His attitude reminded you of how he interacts with those he deems ‘close’ rather than a stranger he's met only once. Yes you are close with Thoma which may influence how he sees you but surely not to the extent of you two being ‘close’ in turn. 

And still you must play the fool, be gracious and oblivious like you could never tell between his mask and his true face. 

“Thank you so much Lord Ayato, truly you've saved my life.” 

You stand to bow, to leave but he holds your wrist at the movement.

“Do not move so hastily now, the rain is still ongoing and I would not like to see a recurrence of you laying in the mud, no matter how amusing the first time may have been. Do sit back down.”

No denying that, no matter how much you wanted to make distance between the two of you, trying to run away would only cause more problems. You sit back down on the bench, a rickety structure just outside the village with hardly enough space for two. 

You look to the ground at your feet, watching as rain drops just a few inches away. Ayato sighs, made clear you have no intent of starting a conversation. Perhaps his political side kicks back in, going blunt and straight to the point. 

“You have been avoiding Thoma these last weeks, he's become distressed at the idea he's done something wrong.” you do not reply. 

“Is it because of my involvement? I understand you may be pressured by our difference in class but both Thoma and I have made it clear that should not be a problem when in private so why is it you fear me? I have seen those intimidated by my title but your anxiety runs deeper than that. I personally don't care as much but if it distracts your relation with Thoma then I suggest it should be dealt with.”

This questioning is unnerving, it is tearing right to the point where the only truth is to reveal the true origin of your situation. That cannot happen so you reply with what you usually do, not exactly a lie but a truth wrapped along with missing context. 

You fake a sigh, “My Lord I am… I am an introverted person by nature. When Thoma approached me I- I accepted his conversations not to be rude and i do genuinely enjoy being with him but i- he's a social person, I knew he was and it was uncomfortable for me to get involved but I tried it's just the moment I met with someone such as yourself, someone so… powerful I realized just how large his social circle is. I can't keep it up, being with him means being with others and I cant handle that.” it was the truth, yes you played it up a bit but hopefully it's an explanation Ayato would accept. 

“So you do not consider your friendship special enough to warrant such efforts?” 

“No!” you lift your head to him, for once properly looking at him, “It is, he is special, he is special beyond your understanding it's just that… I don't fit in, I don't belong by his side and meeting you and others just proves that.”

Ayato looked at you for a moment, seemingly lost in your words, perhaps not understanding the phrasing you used but he quickly morphed back into his usual laid back but self assured look.

“Was that your decision to make?” He let out a soft huff of air and looked forward to the oncoming rain. Why did he wish to avoid the rain? Given his character trailer where he casually accepts it, his skills being water based and summoning quite literal rain not to mention the casual manner his attacks have him kneeling right into it, how could he act so off put by walking along when the storm was hardly harsh, a summer spray in truth, you wouldn't have accepted going on this delivery if the weather was any worse.

“It's comforting. Something I can appreciate both from a distance and up close. Water has a tendency of being both stubborn and flexible, it moves as it wishes and chips away at that it deems in its way. When in motion it is hard to stop, when stagnate it proves hard to move.” 

Ayato turned back to you, eyes alight with something more than just his blue hues, they appeared with a sheen, not from the gloss of tears but of something you couldn't exactly tell what it embodied. Without a character profile to read it actually is very hard to tell what goes on in his mind. 

“Such waters remind me of you. So stubborn in some label you've put yourself under and yet so quick to wash away when it is threatened. You call such a label as being ‘introverted’ but I imagine it's something more isn't it? Perhaps it is insensitive of me to get into, from Thoma I hear you've had an unfortunate past in your time as a scholar and the depths of your reason may lay there but if you truly wish to integrate into a life in Inazuma then avoiding the people you come across, myself and especially Thoma, all under the pretext of being ‘introverted’, then you will find your burdens much heavier.”

In a very storylike fashion the rains seemed to ease, droplets turning to drizzle. Ayato stood up and readjusted his coat cuffs, “At the very least explain to Thoma your reasons, I did not exaggerate when I said he has become distraught.” 

You stood in turn, head buzzing but no longer in the previous pain. You nodded to Ayato, your anxieties haven't shown any actual proof and yet you hurt someone who has shown nothing but kindness and acceptance to you, it is wrong. 

“I will, you are right.”

Ayato offered his hand to you for a hand shake, both as an untold promise to explain yourself to Thoma and as a simple goodbye gesture, you shook it with a strong resolve. 

“I look forward to hearing more about you in the future. Do keep yourself well and avoid potential naps in the mud, it's not the most comfortable of places.” he smiled at you with a cheeky glint of amusement before turning his back and walking to the direction of the city. 

You sat back down on the bench, intent on waiting out the remaining drizzle, and leaned against its wooden pillars. It's all so conflicting, when you try to do right for this world you hurt and confuse those around you, if you try to appease the people around you you risk threatening their future. You bare a cursed mind of information, a cursed existence upon this plane, it isn't right to affect others by the curse you bare but it also isn't right to devoid someone so giving as Thoma.  You sit and contemplate until the drizzle gives way, your carry box placed by your feet filled with breads untouched by dirt and still awaiting their destination. 

Ayato strolls along the path to the city, it is not his usual reasoning for taking the trip but still a reason worth doing so. Along his path all threats had been eliminated, you should arrive just fine but it wasn't that which plagued his mind, rather it was a soft sense of amusement, a sense of glee that left him softly chuckling to himself. He adjusted the cuffs of his gloves, a sign to his Shuumatsuban in hiding that they are to leave him for a moment, once the soft shuffling of unseen ninja pass he turns is view to your direction, the distance hindering the sight, he needed a moment to himself, to gather all possible elements at play to give reason to his unspoken questions. 

“As expected, Thoma was right, they do hold some degree of depth.”.

[ovobawrites]

𝐵𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽: 𝐸𝓅𝒾𝓈𝑜𝒹𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓍 ♡ 𝐹𝒷𝑜𝓎𝓈 𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓎𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓈

disclaimer: this has already been posted on ao3 and quotev, i'm just reposting this beach episode special as a promo for the fic. after this is all my previous author notes.

this is a fem!reader and also a half chinese!reader insert.

previous ♡ next

The rest of the dinner had consisted of the group finding more and more extreme ways to remove Lilia's 'dessert' off of their plates. Malleus and Silver, experts at this craft, had simply casted spells under the table to remove spoonfuls of the 'cake' every so often while Lilia's eyes were elsewhere. Ortho helped Idia by blasting the 'food' with micro beams of technomatic energy to give off the illusion of Idia slowly eating it. Trey simply casted his unique magic and enjoyed the dessert wholeheartedly, nevermind the fact that it tasted distinctly like candied violets and not like a red velvet cake. 

You absentmindedly spinned the dainty silver spoon in your hand as you debated the merits of merely excusing yourself from dinner with 'monthly problems' as the root cause. On one hand, there'd be no need to eat the most poisonous creation you'd ever seen. On the other, having a bunch of awkward eye contact and boys trying to 'help' with offerings of chocolate and the like was not on your agenda for this vacation. You continued to spin your cutlery as you watched Trey take pity on Riddle and Cater enough to help them out, just as Jamil finished faking his test for poison and proclaimed the dessert contained a certain food dye additive that Kalim was totally allergic too. And in fealty to his master, Jamil too would not partake in the cake. 

Vil and Rook already had the excuse of watching their figures to avoid partaking in dessert, an excuse that Lilia took at face value, promising to use less oil to reduce trans fat next time he makes a cake. The question, of course, was how much oil was Lilia putting in his cakes before? From a glance at Silver's face, way too much. It does explain the yellow liquid with suspended droplets of red that flowed out of the moist yet dry mass in front of you. 

Leona had already conked out, declaring that he only eats meat and will never partake in a food that contains 'herbivore products' whatever that meant. Ruggie, meanwhile, was eating the food with gusto, gladly eating Leona's portion as well. You could guess why, starvation had a knack for making one distinctly more appreciative of food. Even if Lilia's cooking was barely edible, Ruggie would still eat and enjoy it. Tragic, was it not?

Floyd and Jade had started moving their food to Azul's plate, letting the oblivious housewarden magic away their food as well as his own. From the frustrated look on Azul's face, you could guess he hadn't figured out the ruse to the game just yet.

Lilia flourished in all of you 'enjoying' his food, flushed with pride as he described the painstaking process of making the cake. "At first," he said, "I added two drops of the food colouring. But then, I realised, it was never gonna be a 'red velvet cake' without more red! So I dumped the whole bottle in." Lilia puffed his chest out, awaiting praise for correcting this foolhardy decision.

"T-that's lovely." Silver said weakly in reply. "I'm glad you corrected your mistake early on."

"And Trey didn't say a word, that sly devil." Lilia continued, wagging his finger teasingly at his cooking partner. "You were waiting for me to learn it myself, were you not?"

Trey nodded with a smile and a twitching eye. "Yep, I figured you'd realise it eventually."

Lilia guffawed at that. "I'm glad you have such respect for your elders, boy, but next time you should keep in mind that my memory is not as pristine as your own."

Lilia really needs to stop saying such mysterious things. Even if Fae age slower than humans, shouldn't he act more his 'mental age' than his physical one? Though... with his cooking I'd gladly accept dementia as its excuse. 

You sighed quietly, as you decided to take the path of least resistance. You used your food to push the pile of ashes around your plate, giving an illusion of eating it. It seemed less like you weren't eating the food at all, merely picking at it slowly due to a lack of appetite. It really was too bad that Lilia wasn't a better cook. 

Soon enough, the conversation petered out and you stood to dump the 'rest of' your dessert in the food waste bin. Lilia never noticed, not with his distraction and the purposeful silence of your movements. As you went to wash your dishes in the sink, more and more of the boys filed in, all having made deals or negotiations for one to do their dishes for the night.

The suds and the hot water that ran over your skin was familiar as you quickly cleaned up, casting a quick spell under your breath to dry off the dishes and put them away. As you turned around, you smiled at Ruggie and Jamil, the two of them rapidly scrubbing through the plates at a practiced pace. Not too slow to be noticed, but slow enough to get away with just a few moments to themselves. But your attention was taken away by the dark sky, signaling it was about time for you to take some time to yourself. You wanted the opportunity to check up and fix up your wards, with Idia's presence, they were likely weakened a little. 

It was a habit by this point, constantly keeping an eye or two on the wards around your room. The incident was ingrained in your head, to the point where even a day where you didn't check up on them caused this debilitating feeling of fear. Another intruder in your room was something you hoped to never happen again. 

(You were resigned, of course, to the truth of the matter. That it would continue to happen for as long as you were alive. This bloodline that you were born into came cursed with the constant threat of assassins, or worse. For all you could act trusting of your friends, you were never sure when, exactly, they'd come to sell you out. You just hoped it wasn't soon. Hoped to be able to enjoy this illusion of camaraderie for a little while longer.)

You quietly walked up the steps to your room, the group already dispersing amongst themselves into groups of each dorm. A distinct feeling of loneliness overcame you as you watched them separate, yet were never alone. What you would give to have that easy friendship.

There was a knock on your door at 9 o'clock in the evening, just as you were finishing up with warding your room once more. 

"Who is it?" You called out, a pleasant lilt to your voice as you awaited an answer from behind the door. A quick brushstroke to finish off the character for 'warning' and you should be done for the day. 

"it's Trey." A familiar voice replied.

"And Cater!" Another chimed in. "We were wondering if you wanted to play a board game with the rest of us? Apparently Jade brought monopoly with him."

"Oh, sure, I'd love to play." You stood up from your desk and made way to the door, snagging your magic pen as you opened it up. "Shall we go downstairs, then?"

"Of course!" Cater perked up and dashed down immediately.

Trey smiled softly at you and offered an arm. "My lady." He said with a chuckle and a teasing look in his eye.

You giggled in reply. "How chivalrous." You took the proffered arm and walked downstairs with him at a more sedentary pace. 

"We don't have enough pieces for all of us." Jade sighed with a faked look of regret on his face, before his ever-present smile snapped back on. "It seems like we'll have to be in teams, perhaps teams of four?"

"There's eighteen of us," Riddle noted, "so teams of three would be the perfect number."

The smile on Jade's face froze over, though he continued his pleasant countenance. "Of course. I guess the dorms will be splitting up then."

"I think the dorms with three members already work out." Jamil spoke up, "So some of the groups of two will be splitting up instead."

"Rook and I claim (Y/N)." Vil said from his seat on the sofa. "Any objections?"

The glares he got from Leona and Jade were harsh enough to kill, yet they said no word in reply. Always happy to hang out with the pomefiore students, you sat sandwiched between Vil and Rook when the two shifted to make room.

"I can team up with Ruggie and Leona!" Kalim exclaimed from where he was seated, ecstatic grin on his face. "This is gonna be super fun!"

"It'd be even better with a feast..." Ruggie sighed to himself, a glint of sardonic humour in his eye.

Kalim perked up even more. "That's a great idea. Next time we have a board game night, we should make it a feast!"

Jamil sighed. "There's no way I'm making that much food for that many people in such short time Kalim."

"Great! Then I can help out!" He beamed.

"And I could as well." Lilia chimed in with a smile.

A shudder ran through the group.

"Ah... sorry Lilia..." Kalim started, "but you don't know any dishes from Scalding Sands... so..."

"I prefer to cook alone." Jamil interjected. 

Lilia drooped down with a frown. "That's too bad, then."

A clap of his hands brought all eyes to Jade. "Now that the teams are sorted, shall we start choosing our pieces?"

"Oh-oh, dibs on the money bag!" Kalim moved to grab the metal piece when Ruggie revealed it in his hand with a familiar laugh. "Good job, Ruggie!" He patted the hyena beastman on the head before moving to sit back down on the floor at the feet of his team.

"Can we have the dog?" You asked politely from your place on the sofa. Jade wordlessly passed it to you, gaining a grateful smile. You turned to your teammates, wondering quietly: "Are there any strategies for monopoly?"

"Buy everything you land on and get good roles." Vil intoned. "So we should have Rook roll, since he has the best luck of all of us."

"Ah, you flatter me dear Roi du Poison." Rook said with a hand to his chest. "I'd be glad to handle the heavy work for our team. I wouldn't want to see any calluses on either of your soft hands."

Bit weird to say but I appreciate the sentiment.

"And you will handle the money." Vil looked at you. "I'll handle the talking and negotiating. If any auctions come up, I'll bet too. Got it?"

"Roger that!"

"Of course, beautiful Vil."

"Good." He leaned forwards, a competitive gleam to his eyes, "Then shall we win this game?"

"Wait- how does one even play monopoly?" Malleus wondered from his place on the couch.

Trey sighed. "This is gonna be a long night."

"A one." Lilia sighed as he moved the top hat onto another owned property. "How much do we owe you, Azul?"

Azul cackled. "Why, not too much, only 500 dollars!"

Malleus begrudgingly handed over the note to Floyd as the Octavinelle students laughed at their growing pile of money.

"This is unfair." Riddle spoke up from where his team had been sent to the floor, where 'the bankrupt should sit, so we know they're out of the game'. "Of course the board game club members will be the winning teams. We should play a better game."

"Aww, is goldfishie upset about losing so quickly?" Floyd teased with a shark-like grin. "That's too bad... maybe if you had longer arms you'd be able to make better rolls!"

Riddle slowly went red. "Is that. Another. Short joke, Floyd?" He gritted out as Trey and Cater started to coach him into calming down. Riddle only got a laugh in reply, further fanning the flames of his anger.

"We got a two and a one." Ruggie spoke up from the 'Jail' sofa. "Guess we're stuck in here for another turn."

"Good job Ruggie." Leona grinned, "We're out of the madhouse for a little longer."

"Let me out!" Kalim wailed from besides them. "I swear I did nothing wrong! I'm innocent, I swear it!"

"Kalim, this is just a game. You're not actually in jail." Jamil spoke up from his couch, bored out of his mind when Idia and Ortho were doing all the work.

"We got a lucky three!" Rook spoke up from besides you. "We escape le Roi d'Effort's tyrannical reign once more, my dear Roi et Reine."

"Good job, Rook." Vil congratulated, "But we are not out of the woods just yet."

"We don't have enough funds to reliably survive another rent from Idia's group." You murmured worriedly to him as you handed the 'banker', Trey, enough money for another house to your pink set. 

"Trust me, dear, when have I ever lead this team astray?" Vil arched a perfect brow and stroked his hand through your hair in a comforting manner, smirk on his face.

"Uh oh, Azul, we got a five!" Floyd said worriedly as he looked between the board and the dice.

"I'm aware, Floyd." Azul pinched the bridge of his nose as he calculated the prices. "Jade, how is our bank looking?"

"We still have plenty of funds, sir." He reported with a smile.

"You owe us 2000 dollars." Vil interrupted. "We just added a house there."

Jade paled. "The status is dire, Azul."

"Do we need to mortgage?"

"I'm afraid we will."

"Then do so."

A wide grin came to Idia's face as he looked over the board while the Octavinelle group struggled to pay yours. "We have this W in the bag, Ortho!" He paused for a moment, before a squeak. "And Jamil! We couldn't have done this without you!"

"I did nothing."

"Which is what we needed! If I was paired with Azul we would've lost by now... he's way too much of a control freak."

"I see." Jamil frowned in thought. "Thank you, then."

"...What was that Idia?" A threatening smile. "I hope you're prepared to face the consequences of what you've said..." 

"My team is plenty prepared to beat yours. We're not the ones on the verge of bankruptcy after all." Jamil grinned, always pleased to go against Azul.

"And now you've even turned Jamil against me! We just cannot let this stand, right Jade and Floyd?" Azul turned to the tweels for support as he faked heartbreak from Jamil's cruel words.

"Nah. I'm bored." Floyd said, examining his nails before deciding to go back to teasing Riddle until he exploded again.

"LOL even your team doesn't want to help you!" Idia laughed, manic grin on his face. "Ortho, roll a five for us if you'd please."

"...It's a seven."

"Goddamnit."

It's been three hours since the group started playing monopoly, with no end in sight to the horrors off the game. For all you tried to end it, only one other group has gone bankrupt since. 

"Finally, we're done for!" Ruggie sighed, relieved to be done with the game and to go to bed.

"Next time you should roll better." Leona glared. "We were this close to winning."

Ruggie looked at the other four groups still in the running and back to Leona, unimpressed. 

"I think we did super well anyways! We weren't the first group out and that's all that matters!" Kalim piped in, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Eh, whatever." Leona yawned before going up the steps to his bedroom. 

"Wh- Leona, aren't you gonna help clean our stuff up?" Ruggie yelled after him, and with the lack of reply, he groaned and went to pack the group's stuff up.

"I think I'll stay up." Kalim said to him. "I wanna see Jamil win!"

"Kalim... I doubt we're gonna be the winners at this rate." Jamil shook his head, the group funds of Ignihyde + Jamil and Octavinelle being significantly diminished since they declared war on each other.

"Shut up Jamil! We're gonna beat that stupid octopus into the ground, got it?!" Idia hissed, muttering calculations and win rates to Ortho as he surveryed the board with a manic look in his eyes.

Vil rolled his eyes. "This game will be way too long. Let's just-"

"NO FORFIETS ALLOWED!" Both Azul and Idia yelled at the same time, wanting to win 'fair and square', whatever that meant.

You tapped Vil on the shoulder and whispered a question to him. "Can I nap for a bit on your shoulder? I'm very much tired but... we can't exactly go to bed now." You shrugged with a weary smile.

"Whatever." He sighed in reply, and didn't say a word as you leant your head against his shoulder and with soft breaths as you drifted off to sleep.

You were still asleep when the game ended. Idia and Azul burnt each other out of the game, both throwing fits and arguing with each other as they went back to their rooms. Kalim, who had drifted off during the long game, was carried up to their shared room by Jamil with a groan off annoyance. Diasomnia somehow ended up winning despite the team only learning the rules a few hours ago.

Rook spoke up as Jade finished packing up the pieces. "Roi du Poison, I can always carry our dear Reine des Cygnes up the stairs if you'd rather go to sleep as soon as possible."

Vil shook his head. "It's fine, I can carry (Y/N) up myself." He merely glared at Rook when his vice housewarden gave a smug smile in reply. "Don't say a word."

"I won't!" He grinned.

"And don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?"

Vil didn't deign him with a reply and instead picked you up in a bridal carry to get to your room on the second floor. Worryingly, as he did so, you started to stir. His quiet and gentle movements didn't encourage you to go back to sleep, instead it merely woke you up as the two of you reached the top step.

You jolted in his arms. "I- Vil?!"

"What." He said flatly.

"Did you-" You spoke haltingly, tired and disoriented. "carry me up the stairs?"

Vil arched a brow. "Do you have a problem with that?"

You glanced away. "It's just that... you didn't have to go through the trouble, waking me up would suffice. I'm sorry for the bother."

"It was no bother at all." Vil's eyes pierced you as he continued to hold you up steadily. "If I wanted to wake you up, I would have done so. I don't mind doing this much for you." A rare smile graced his face as he looked upon you. "You are... precious to me, after all."

And with that, he set you down gently and walked down the stairs to his room, leaving you frozen in place. As you registered his words, a bright flush marked your cheeks. You hid your face behind your hands for a moment and sighed ever so quietly. Your heart thumped and a sea of butterflies flooded your stomach. 

You wondered what that feeling was as you tucked yourself into bed for the night.

Mini Theatre Jade, packing a monopoly board in his luggage: I can't wait to be on a team with my three favorite people! I'd love to play monopoly with (Y/N)! Vil and Riddle: Allow us to introduce ourselves. Leona: I WANTED TO TEAM WITH HER DAMMIT NOW I'M WITH KALIM. Jamil: ...Finally... freedom...

and here is the sixth part of the beach ep. if you'd like to read the rest of the fic, you can read it on ao3 here, and on quotev here.

[bluemoonscape]

While I'm on my Hannibal essay bullshit, here's a copy/paste (plus images) from a response I had to this post that I wanted to get out there in its own post regarding the symbolic differences between the stag and the stag man:

I interpret the main difference as one representing Will’s Becoming and the other representing Will slowly learning Hannibal’s darkness—and then his humanity.

The stag initially appears as a symbol for Will’s “madness” due to his encephalitis in Season 1, with the scene of the antlers on fire being the most obvious indicator to me as well as how he seems less in control of it in this season. He sees it wandering around and he’s afraid of it. He’s afraid of what he’s seeing and why. He’s unable to control its actions. It’s out of his hands.

But in Season 2, he gains control of it. In the dream he has of killing Hannibal, he uses the stag to achieve this end. When he’s in the head of Randall Tier, the stag is with him and once again, it kills on his command.

What was originally madness, a frenzied spiral into darkness with no say in where he landed, becomes more of what I view as a “controlled descent” in Season 2. He is fully aware of his actions. He often seems to excuse his darker actions and inclinations “I need to do this because ____” blank being any number of things such as his job, a “righteous” purpose, his seduction of Hannibal to catch him, or Hannibal’s own seduction of him and influence on him. I think that could be why the stag sometimes feels confused with a symbol of Hannibal. It’s Will, but he’s not telling himself that. He’s trying to convince himself it isn’t his nature. He HAS to do it. He doesn’t enjoy it. He needs to tell himself he doesn’t enjoy it.

As for stag man, Wendi darling, that’s been explained really well in recent posts, but to lay out my thoughts, it’s Will’s association for Hannibal moving forward and backward, the teacup shattering and then coming back together. He doesn’t see it until about the end of Season 1, during the scene where he confronts Hannibal and is shot in the shoulder by Jack:

Before then, it’s the stag. In the “did you just smell me?” scene, Will’s intuition is trying to tell him in his compromised mental state what Hannibal is. The stag statue is directly linked to him seeing the stag, and the stag is his own darkness steadily being stripped bare by Hannibal’s influence on him, which he doesn’t yet recognize. Only when he unravels the truth of Hannibal’s darkness does he see the stag man, and as mentioned, he doesn’t see it anymore after Mizumono. After Hannibal’s betrayal of Will in S1, Will convinces himself (understandably) that Hannibal doesn’t care about him. He’s using him. He was never his friend and all he wants from Will is a show, wind him up and watch him go. Mizumono proves him wrong on a fundamental, inescapable level. He wasn’t aware of the humanity and love Hannibal could possess until that moment, so his view of him as a monster shatters the moment he recognizes it. What I love about each season finale is how every final episode can represent a new crucial realization in Hannibal and Will’s relationship; S1 is Will realizing Hannibal’s darkness, S2 is Will finding Hannibal’s humanity again in the cruelest of circumstances, and S3 is him reconciling the two and letting himself accept both—letting himself accept Hannibal and himself as an extent.

This is largely open to interpretation, but those are my thoughts on the stag vs. the stag man and what they represent in the story. We watch the show from Will’s perspective, a notoriously unreliable narrator, so it makes sense that associations would get mixed up in his head, causing the viewer to become confused, too. That said, they are two distinct entities in the story and represent two distinct elements in the story: Will’s Becoming in relation to his bond with Hannibal and Hannibal’s darker traits juxtaposing his humanity, as viewed through Will’s eyes...

...hence why they can often be seen in direct opposition to one another, like the dream sequence in Shiizakana.

[thbolters]

would love a short headcannons type of charlie and (maybe even neil if its not too much for you) developing a crush, maybe some angst and fluff thrown in? 👀 love ur writing btw :))()

Okay first off, I love you and thank you so much for saying that I’m glad that you like my writing and I’m so happy.

And second of all I looove this. There’s so many ways that this could go with either one but here’s what I leaned into more.

Also sorry if this has any grammar errors or spelling mistakes I’m on my way to my class and I’m getting too excited over this hc I feel like a golden retriever.

Charlie

I feel like he’d keep stalling the realization of having a crush.

He’d probably be sitting with you under a tree where you’re studying next to each other, your shoulders brushing every once in a while, enjoying each other’s presence in silence, his heart hammering in his chest so loudly, he’s afraid that you’ll hear it.

He doesn’t want to admit it, and he won’t for a while. Too afraid of being rejected, because yes, even the most confident person in Welton is too soft for this.

So, instead of facing the truth he avoids it.

And avoids you along the way.

Spending time together becomes a rare occurrence unless, there’s a dead poets meeting.

And you’re sick of it. Rightfully so.

You keep on wondering what you did wrong, what on earth caused him to run away from you?

So, when you find him in the empty hallway after being excused from class, you do the mature thing and grab him by the sleeve to get into the nearest janitor’s closet. Forced intervention style. (I hate that I just said that for some reason)

You find yourselves in the cramped closet, the dim light concealing his nervousness as he tries to avoid your gaze.

You stare at him for a moment before you clear your throat, trying to address the elephant in the too small room. “We need to talk..this avoiding me thing has to stop”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He stammers.

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Charlie.” You argued with furrowed brows before taking a deep breath and continuing. “We used to be close, but now we hardly talk and it feels like you’re actively avoiding me…” you sighed. “Did I do something?”

As the tension lingers in the cramped closet, Charlie takes a deep breath, gathering courage. “It’s not you,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s me. I’ve been trying….to figure out how to say this”

You lock eyes with him, your heart picking up speed as it fills with hope. “Say what?”

He hesitates for a moment, then looks straight at you. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while, actually” He admits.

Your expressions soften, a small smile playing on your lips. “I like you too”

He lets out a breathy laugh, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “I guess we’ve both been overthinking this, haven’t we?”

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling your face get warmer. “We probably should’ve just talked”

Charlie nods, a grin breaking through his nervousness. Relief washing over him, he takes a step closer towards you, gently tucking a loose strand of hair from your face.

Heartbeats synchronize as you lean in closer, your lips almost touching, the warmth of your breaths mingling. It’s a tender, uncertain moment.

And then, in a moment that feels like an eternity and yet passes in a heartbeat, your lips meet.

It’s soft, a feather light touch, and a tentative exploration of the unknown. A rush of emotions surges through you both.

the excitement of a new beginning, the relief of honesty, and the undeniable connection between you

Sorry if this sucks I just poured what popped into my mind into a post that I probably will not read again for the sake of my sanity and because if I do read it again I’ll probably end up deleting it

I was going to write Neil’s part but my professor walked in so, I’ll try to write it as another post (maybe even make it a blurb or a one shot 👀)

[cassberry]

(Some links if you want to watch 3rd Life or Last Life first! EDIT: And here is Limited Life! )

Welcome one and all to the life series soulmate AU season! I seem to have got into the habit of making a new one of these whenever the new season is literally just around the corner. And I use them as an excuse each time to re-watch the life series and to ramble about it lmao

Now thankfully the core mechanic this season of soulmates made collating this guide 1000% easier then 3rd or Last Life. With a few exceptions, soulmates tended to stay side-by-side the whole session. Now don't get me wrong although some perspectives can be interchangeable, they are all a great watch! I have just put the POV I believe to show more of whats happening on the server or an incredibly important moment.

WARNING: Once again an incredibly long read more where I expound at length why I chose these specific POV's lol enjoy!

SESSION ONE

Grian - I'm keeping with tradition and recommending Grian first because in all honesty his first episode is a fantastic watch. Between the reveal of who his soulmate is and various shenanigans, this episode was so much fun.

Cleo or Scott - Cleo and Scott probably see most of the server trying to find their soulmates so either of these POV's are fantastic.

Pearl - Pearl bounces between groups for quite a bit of this session, so she's great to get a good look at multiple dynamics. However, its the last 5 or so minutes of her episode that really set in motion some of the leading conflicts of the season that you don't want to miss.

Etho - Just a fun episode honestly! His soulmate reveal with Joel is so freaking funny and I called it my 3rd Life post that when Etho and Joel team up, they just become little gremlins lmao I think they spend half the episode giggling.

SESSION TWO

Impulse - The Real Housewives of the Mid-Century Modern Home is a totally true and totally real show that happened during Impulse and Bdubs episodes this week. They are happily married and will prove that fact by breaking up every other couple on the server.

Scar - With a combination of swindling and major arson, Scar really does do it all this session.

Scott - The interpersonal drama this season is amazing and Scott being right in the middle of it makes this POV a great watch.

Tango - Absolutely not related to another POV this session, but making the Ranch out of wood was probably not a good idea in the long run.

SESSION THREE

Big B - The drama between Big B and Ren this session is so juicy. Between secret soulmates, Scott testing their relationship and [SPOILERS] becoming the first reds on the server, I don't know how they survived as long as they did.

Jimmy - Along with his soulmate, Jimmy and Tango welcome a beautiful baby boy into the world this week and probably cause the most chaos I've ever seen in the life series.

Martyn - Man, he is really bad at maths.

Pearl - Being the lone wolf (heh) of the season, her POV is great to get an outside view on events.

SESSION FOUR

Joel - I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard at the beginning of an episode before. Also fishing rods are to OP, mojang needs to nerf them before they claim even more lives lol 

Cleo - So much happens this episode, its ridiculous. But Cleo has a good blend of chaos and calm.

Ren - The most elaborate plot to kill others never seems to be as good as just a weapon in the end. 

Martyn - As Martyn is inviting everyone to a pool party, he probably sees most of the server, so he is great perspective to see what everyone is up to.

BONUS: watch Scar’s POV around 26:10 for the ultimate badass moment.

SESSION FIVE

Scar - Scar goes through it this week. I really can’t say much more without major spoilers but oh boy, this is an exciting POV.

Etho - The boat boys have wayyyy to much fun being red this session.

Jimmy - At this point I think there is someone out there has a personal grudge against him lol also if you want to see a fandom go nuts over a Ferris Bueller quote, watch the end of Tango's video.

Big B - Just a good solid episode and the ending is actually tragic.

SESSION SIX

Pearl - The most essential POV of the season. Heartbreak! Betrayal! Just general badassery! It's all here and its all amazing!

Bdubs - Gives a good overview of the Red Alliance and the chaos that happens when a group of people have nothing left to do but hunt others down.

Cleo - Watching her and Martyn try and outrun the reds is so incredibly stressful. Watching her turn red is so incredibly satisfying.

Grian - After he kicks the bucket due to... reasons, he sticks around in ghost form for a bit. Also his credits honestly makes me a little emotional.

In Summary...

And that's it! This season was incredibly short due to the shared life mechanic, however it was no less amazing than the others. Can I just say the fan content that came out of this season has just blown me away. It's just all so damn good.

Also I had someone ask why I do it this way rather than just recommending specific POV's to watch all the way through. It's really because I believe the best way to watch a Life season is to binge all the POV's of one session at once, completely break down over the sheer amount of content and then move onto the next week lmao just like as if it was live!

But really, there is something magical about watching multiple perspectives of the same event one after another that just gives the life series its charm. You see everything there is to see and then your anticipation for the next session is super high which just makes the experience so much more exciting. Anyway I hope this helps you on your Double Life adventure!

[asmogorna]

Sorry to send another ask so soon (and idk if someones asked this already) but if you have any headcanons for Jon I'd love to hear them!

OK SO im really sorry it took me THIS long to get to this i quite literally.. forgot i had smth in my inbox woopsies. the reason i remembered is cause mootie posted some Spine hcs and i was like "woah"

alsooo im not good at putting my thoughts onto "paper" especially in english so you will have to excuse me

anywho my jon headcanons some sad some random /ref

First of all i think that his relationship with Peter Walter I would be far from close. he would be seen as the type of child who's both "too much mess to take care of" and "strong enough to take care of himself" if that makes sense. Peter did love him as his creation but would openly admit that he's not his proudest one, meanwhile Jon wouldn't feel much connection at all. he sympathized with his creator but only in a way he would with any other human being, there was more gratitude than love

Jon struggles with constant malfunctions and his mechanisms are a mess (partially because he gets himself in trouble all the time), so at one point Peter would get tired of fixing him so frequently, and tell him that he can just "walk some things off". That thought stuck to the bot and he would think of all of his malfunctions as slight inconveniences, i mean, he can still perform so why pay attention to the constant neck pain or powering up struggles ? it just became a habit and he kind of forgot that things like that shouldn't be ignored

After a long while when Peter Walter VI grew up enough to start learning more about how automatons work, Jon would be used as a "lab rat" (not really but its just what he himself called it) for young VI to practice fixing mechanisms. thats pretty much when he heard "Wait this cant be right" about his messed up physical state for the first time in a long while. little Peter didnt get to fix all of the things that were wrong with Jon's body, but he did manage to take care of some of them, which almost surprised Jon with how nice it felt to not hear pieces of broken gears rattle in his head every time he moved (who wouldve thunk)

ok now to more lighthearted stuff !!

Jon actually has a very strong bond with Sam ! He loves watching the mustached man work and sometimes follows him around, just enjoying his company. At first Sam thought that the tone-gold automaton was creepy and uncanny, but grew attached to him and his stupidity (/lh). i also think that Sam would be one of the few Walter workers who dont baby the Jon and actually treat him like they would treat any other robot :3

Also Jon just loves his robot family endlessly. shocker !! im not sure how explain it but i think hes the only one to look at other Walter automatons and go "bro i love them so much" at all times. in his head at least. obviously he teases them and argues with them but he wont think twice before accepting a hug from his siblings (except for Upgrade theyre rivals /j)

Speaking of Upgrade !! They feel the most sibling-ish to me (aside from Rabbit & The Spine) because they constantly poke fun at each other yet they still are willing to give each other help and comfort when needed. She once had to carry him all the way back to the Walter manor because they forgot to take some extra cans of crystal pepsi

Also Upgrade got in an accident once which caused her to have a fractured face for a couple of days, and Jon was there the entire time to comfort her and constantly tell her that shes still very pretty

Unlike with other robots, the food that Jon eats doesnt just fall through his uncovered jaw/run into his boiler or anything like this, instead it just. disappears. once he closes his mouth the food just vanishes into the unknown, yet Jon claims that he enjoys the process of "eating" (nobody knows how it works)

LITTLE GIRLS THAT GO TO SPG SHOWS LOVE HIM !! once the band finishes performing, he constantly gets pulled away by a small giggling pink-ish blob to join their tea party or hula hooping contest. thats why he has quite a knowledge on "girly" themes and educates other automatons on the matter

THATS IT FOR NOW TY FOR READING :3

[withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus]

So you want to listen to Alice Nine? (prt. 2)

Moving on with my suggestions for potential new Number Sixes, cause summarizing their work in one post was impossible, let's dive into the next era.

The "Golden" years, imo. The time that solidified them as the Princes of PSC (2008-2013 From "Mirror Ball" to "Shooting Stars")

I wouldn't like to talk about how things were in Japan, cause I wasn't there, but let me tell you foreign Number Sixes were going crazy about them in these eras. And the songs were super strong, like banger after banger, it made sense. (I almost had to separate this era into 2 more parts, cause I couldn't choose. There is so much to find here as a first listen imo)

To this day, this song gives me chills. The melody, THE PIANO WITH THE DRUMS UGH! xD Easy listen, fun song, back to full on anime song vibes but with elegance and...just listen. xD

It honestly saddens me that there are people nowadays disregarding how good this song is xD. I will admit though I don't like its live version. *nods* But the studio version is fun. And back when I became a fan it was EVERYWHERE! xD It was one of the 2-3 songs YT felt like suggesting me when it wanted to show me Alice Nine is an option close to my likes too. :P Also excuse me, but if you enjoy a good solo, you might as well choose this. Hiroto gets a solo, Tora, gets a solo and Saga as well. And Shou gets highs, hello? I get my fix on Nao solos from other songs, though. :P It's not bad here, on the contrary it keeps the rhythm fun and upbeat, it adds playfulness, it's just not given as much time to shine alone as I'd personally like.

Behold. The Anthem xD. Listen, I can tell you for a fact this song was super popular with Japanese fans as well, it'd become a joke. This was also the opening to the band's livestreams for the longest time and at some point they wanted to change it and hesitated but I don't remember if they eventually did. I still remember Tora questioning it xD. Is it time? Should we finally do it? xD I never expected such song would hold so many memories for me 13 years later but here we are.

Finally! My starter pokemon! xD This song made me their fan. It has everything I personally love, it had darker visuals than their usual, moodiness, mystery and soaring parts for grandeur. It's such a beautiful song, like a fairytale. Oh and Hiroto's solo. ;;

I was ready to make a funny visual here for you, but I chose mercy, cause I'm blabbering anyway xD. This is a very catchy song. I dunno if it has the power to make you a fan but it will definitely have you dancing around.

Another favorite in the foreign fandom from what I had seen back then. In part 1 of my Alice Nine recommendations, I had mentioned I'd talk vocal skill in a song in this part. This is the one. If anyone of you here sings, I'd like you to try sing this song while making sure you maintain as much of Japanese accent you can master, follow Shou's tone and get all the highs without running out of breath. If you've been singing for years you probably can do it. Personally, while I'm not a pro, not even close, I was surprised I ran this out of breath with this one, and my throat hurt. On the first bridge specifically. Cause I'm an Aguilera stan too so I know that when I run out of breath, the song is hard xD Like, you can't tell me he didn't have skill to sing this. Now live....this is the kind of song that strains your voice and well, with the years, it has lost lots of its oomph cause of Shou's struggles with his voice. But even back when he tried to hit every note and was way closer than nowadays, you could hear the pain. Very difficult song but very beautiful nonetheless.

This might or might not be a good first for you, it really depends on your taste but this to me is one of their most magical songs.

I personally wouldn't necessarily suggest this as a good first cause I took a bit of time to appreciate it more, myself, but look at the views. It was popular for sure, I remember that. And I admit it's catchy.

See for me this is better for a starter than Blue Flame, but it depends on taste. They both were popular when they came out but Blue Flame had more people's heart. It also had very strong imagery of the members, maybe that added to it. Anywho, I'm more of a "Heart of Gold" person. :P

And we close this era with Shooting Star. This one was a cute song for me, and I think it's easy to hear, that's why it's here. I wanted to add 2 more songs before that but tumblr limits me.

So I'm adding it here as honorable mentions: Do check "Daybreak" and "Himitsu" as well.

That’s all about this post, guys. Again, I’d have loved to do it all in one go, but tumblr... Next and final era in part 3.

I hope you find sth you like, if not, it’s ok, you might enjoy sth from other eras. But well, if you still don’t find sth, we all like different things, it’s alright, but yeah, this was an attempt to entice more people listen to one of my favorite bands, Alice Nine (their mid era, according to my understanding, at least, during which most of their songs seemed to be popular in both the Japanese and Western fandom).

[molsno]

Your post on transandrophobia was the first time i'd heard of it and it from just reading your post it made sense why it couldn't be real. But i didnt want to adopt a new belief against something without looking into why people are for it. Upon reading many other posts and doing a bunch of thinking i now have a few thoughts on your post id appreciate your input on as you seem understanding and extremely well-read

please correct me if i'm wrong, but your argument against transandrophobia is that transandrophobia as the combination of androphobia/misandry and transphobia (to mirror transmisogyny being a combination of misogyny and transphobia) cannot exist because androphobia/misandry does not exist

you are completely correct that misandry does not exist in the same systemic way that misogyny does, it would be idiotic to argue otherwise, but our current system of gender stereotypes/expectations does also negatively impact men. Men are seen as inherently violent, dangerous, emotionless, and too sexual. (ie. men aren't belived when victims of rape bc/they must've enjoyed it, men are more likely to be incarcerated)

Men's Rights Activists and people like them were wrong in believing they suffered more than women and that women gaining rights was the cause of their suffering, but they did correctly identify that men also suffered from the patriarchy (and im forever gonna be salty that they were so close to understanding but instead of engaging in solidarity they decided to be misogynist about it)

When combined with other forms of oppression the often excused or ignored negative associations with masculinity are viewed as horrible problems

For example black men have to constantly make themselves less threatening when near white women because it is assumed they have malicious intent. Historically many many black men have been lynched in order to 'protect' white women. Yes it was very much racism, but it wasn't a coincidence that black men were the victims far more than black women.

Lesbians have historically been seen as inherently masculine therefore dangerous and predatory. The same associations now are used to justify transwomen being banned from women's spaces because they must be inherently masculine therefore inherently sexually predatory.

There is a narrative that Testosterone should be avoided for transmascs because it will make them into ugly violent monsters.

In specifically queer spaces there is often a strong stigma against being proud to be masculine. Which makes sense as most of the groups and people who have been openly proud of their masculinity before have been actively advocating for the elimination of queer people, but masculinity in itself is not anti-queer and shouldn't be treated as such.

There are many transmasc struggles seperate from transfem struggles that could potentially be more accurately described as an intersection of misogyny and transphobia, such as the infantilization and denial of control over our bodies, but because transfem people have established transmisogyny as a term to talk about their struggles and because there are several struggles resulting from our specifically trans masculinity, transandrophobia was chosen instead to not encroach on transfem's space while still having the ability to speak about our struggles.

thank you if you actually spent the time to read this and i genuinely hope you have a great day :]

thank you for being open to criticism with these ideas but oof, there's a lot to unpack here. frankly, I find it a little hard to believe you'd never heard the word transandrophobia before, considering you're regurgitating all of its talking points. you say that misandry doesn't exist at a systemic level, but then all of these points are framed as if it does. we'll go through that, but first, some foundations:

our current gender system may negatively impact men in a few narrow circumstances, but it is ultimately self-inflicted (even if some women do uphold it), and still benefits them. men are perceived as violent, dangerous, and too sexual because they continue to perpetuate a gender system that oppresses women with sexual violence. still, to this day, marital rape is not punished with the same severity as non-marital rape. still, to this day, women stay in abusive relationships out of fear that their boyfriends/husbands will commit acts of violence against them if they try to leave.

do you understand? violence, and ESPECIALLY sexual violence, is a tool men wield to maintain power, sometimes over other men, but especially over women. they wield this tool voluntarily because it benefits them, even if it does have its drawbacks in some circumstances. violence is punishable under the law, which is why men who perpetrate violence against other men tend to be incarcerated at higher rates than men who perpetrate violence against women. after all, women aren't considered full human beings with equal rights, so violence against them isn't a severe offense. our society was structured around the premise that women are men's property with which they can do whatever they want. that's why, for instance, when men are raped by women, they aren't believed; the very concept of a woman wielding sexual power over men is unthinkable in the eyes of society.

misogyny is one of the oldest forms of oppression - it's existed since nearly the dawn of society itself, and has existed in cultures all over the world for thousands of years. as a result, it is baked into the very foundation of society. if your analysis of gendered systems doesn't begin from this basic fact, then your analysis is incorrect.

certainly, men uphold very rigid, overly-restrictive notions of masculinity which can harm them in some cases, but this "toxic masculinity" as it's come to be known is really just a means of threatening other men with transmisogyny. I've written a whole post about it here.

with all of that out of the way, let's go through the rest of your examples of supposed misandry one by one.

first, while you are correct that there is a long history of violence being enacted upon black men because they are perceived as a threat to white women, the cause of this phenomenon is just racism. as you will recall in an earlier paragraph, I stated that men are perceived as violent and dangerous because they uphold a system of sexual ownership over women. any man that may pose a threat to another man's ownership over a woman must be punished with violence. now, black people regardless of gender are seen as hypersexual in this white supremacist society, so when it comes to black men in particular, they are perceived as being more likely to threaten a white man's ownership over a white woman - hence the amount of violence they face.

now, I need to say, I'm white, and while I do my best to learn about racism and how it intersects with other forms of oppression, my understanding will always be limited by my privilege as a white person. I've never experienced racism and I never will, so I don't have the full nuance to explain this topic in particular that comes with lived experience. that being said, I find it very callous and cruel that transandrophobia truthers repeatedly use the violence black men face as "proof" of their beliefs, especially because they act like black women aren't also subjected to racist violence, which they very much are. here's a thread by two black bloggers about this topic that I think discusses this phenomenon better than I ever could - be sure to check the read more link in it.

moving on, your point about lesbians and trans women (note the space) is, frankly, extremely insulting. misandry is not a part of my oppression. people don't hate me because I'm masculine, they hate me because I'm a tranny. they hate me SPECIFICALLY because I reject manhood in its entirety. they hate me because my very existence calls into question the validity of the assumptions that 1. there are two opposite mutually exclusive genders with absolutely no overlap and 2. manhood and masculinity is inherently superior to womanhood and femininity. that's why they portray people like me as a threat to cis women. if I'm free to exist in the way that makes me happiest, then the gender system that gives men absolute unchecked power over women will crumble. lesbians are also reviled and viewed as predatory for their rejection of subservience to men and their attraction to women, which - again, threatens men's control over them.

I'm going to go out of order here and address your point about queer spaces being hostile to masculinity. it just isn't true. I've never seen a single person provide an adequate explanation for how there is a stigma in queer spaces against masculinity that wasn't just lesbophobia and transmisogyny in disguise. it always boils down to "waah lesbians and trans women are mean to men and people who like men :(", a la this post.

now, last but not least, your points about transmascs. they're discouraged from transitioning because we live in a transphobic society. there is nothing unique about that. transfems are subjected to the exact same rhetoric.

transmascs do not experience an intersection of transphobia and misogyny. they may experience both of these, but they are not intersecting, and any assertion to the contrary demonstrates an abysmal understanding of intersection, whether willfully or not. I've already written another post about this exact topic.

I hope this was helpful, but for future reference, I'm going to say this: most women are not going to be so patient and understanding when you approach them with a giant wall of text asking them to explain misogyny to you. I did not have to do any of this for you, and you shouldn't expect me to. I've already written and reblogged many posts about the topics you've brought up here, as you've seen, and you could have easily found most of them by looking through my writing and transmisogyny tags. I hope you have a good day, but please do not do this again.

[yeyinde]

I just wanted to thank you for your most recent post about the MW3 campaign, and the way Samara’s death was handled. The most I knew about Call of Duty before finding your blog was the few times I had played with my little cousin.

I immediately took to the characters through your writing, and have been ever since! As of late I have felt myself growing distanced from these certain stories. While I’m sure some of it has to do with the natural progression of disinterest, a lot of my feelings are due to what is going on as of late.

I was never under the impression that Call of Duty wasn’t blatant military propaganda-you’d have to be completely oblivious to believe otherwise- but I guess it was easier to immerse myself in the story while ignoring any underlying reservations. Which is a privilege in and of itself.

All that unnecessarily being said, (apologies for the rambling) I just wanted to express my appreciation for your acknowledgement of the the current situation. It’s no exaggeration when I say you are one of the most talented writers I know, and more than likely my favorite! So as someone who is directly affected by everything going on, it means a lot to me that you are providing nuance in light of it all.

I do hope this isn’t taken as a call for the discontinuity of your writing for Call of Duty characters either, as it has brought me immense joy in the past year! I just wanted to share my own thoughts and feelings on the candid statement you posted.

You've given me a lot to think about, and none of what you said was unnecessary in any way—I think you touched on a lot of important aspects, particularly the privilege of “consumption without consequences."

It’s easy to get swept up into something when you have no tangible ties to the effects of what’s being portrayed, which can lead to making dismissive or hurtful statements out of pure ignorance. My biggest gripe was the excuses being laundered out and (either unintentionally or intentionally) giving the creators a pass for what they created and the harm they caused other people to experience. Just because they did not experience the same trauma, it does not diminish its impact on others. This is a very important distinction, which I think was being missed.

(I also think it's a bit of an attachment issue, and I could probably write an essay on why criticism of media you enjoy is not a lambasting of your personal character (and why you should be able to separate the two), but this was already getting quite lengthy so 😅)

Also, I don't think I added much to the discussion outside of airing out something that was annoying me, though. All the credit goes to @halfmoth-halfman for bringing attention to an important issue which was being glossed over. And for continuing to bring up these valid issues and criticisms when the norm seems to be "well, we'll just erase it from canon. No biggie."

But thank you for this! It really means a lot to me, and I'm so happy that the stories I wrote about brought some form of comfort. It's genuinely the biggest compliment ever.