#I also liked his human form (kind of reminded me of myself in school)

[thegreatcrowdragon]

Might be a hot take but I liked Charlie more when it was a feral rodent terrorizing people on the subway

[makemeimmortalwithahug]

for @tacoreib hey there, thanks!

prompt: thoughts on why supernatural creatures are in love with him

that's not written in prose, it's just me pretending to be literate and clever enough to analyse these characters in a meaningful way. it makes sense in my head, yeah? yeah

trigger warning for talking about the cat king and his dynamic (and its issues) with edwin

word count: 779 words

Well, the supernatural creatures in question are Monty and the Cat King. Let’s divide that cause I feel like their views of Edwin differ significantly but also unite in one aspect: they find Edwin exciting. And that’s wild, right? This Edwardian boy who reads tons and only rarely gifts anyone - who isn’t Charles or Niko - an honest smile.

Well, in general, we know that Edwin never got really along with other humans, up until he met Charles. And while Edwin seems to not be the biggest fan of cats – especially after the Cat King Drama –, I can picture Edwin finding solace in animals in his childhood. Nature and magic are deeply intertwined and Edwin also is quite handy when it comes to spells and such. Yeah, he argues a fair lot with Crystal and he’s incredibly close to Charles and finds a kindred soul in Niko, but in conversations with clients he’s cool and collected. He knows his way around the supernatural world and seems to fit right in, not like back in his school days. He is gentle and calm most of the time, no sudden movements and quiet competence. Those sound like good reasons for supernatural creatures to fall in love with Edwin.

Let’s start with the Cat King. For him, his attraction to Edwin is probably a form of asserting dominance. Sure, he calls himself a “consensual king” and gives Edwin an out with the whole counting-cats thing, but in the end he likely counts on Edwin tiring of his little game and caving. He has a following of loyal subjects, he has a throne, so he most definitely is used to a mix of admiration and worship towards himself. The Cat King has this aura of someone who knows that others desire him. Others, who know why he is so appealing.

But then, along comes this cute posh ghost with his little bowtie who seems utterly confused by his feelings and that’s what’s so exciting for the Cat King. It’s power over him. Later, it becomes apparent that that’s not all, that the Cat King really does feel something beyond attraction for Edwin and that most likely stems from him slowly growing attached to Edwin and his remarks during their little meet-ups, but especially Edwin’s flustered appearance. For the Cat King, this is what really attracts him to Edwin. This put-together detective who gets red in the face whenever the Cat King steps too close.

He does get better at their final meeting and seems much more genuinely fascinated by Edwin, that’s likely to do with the Cat King knowing and hearing about what went down – Edwin in hell, Niko’s death, the torture – and Edwin coming out of all of this… well, not alive, but with his head still upon his shoulders and still this kindness in his heart. To be kind in the face of all of this, that’d do it.

Now, Monty. Monty Monty Monty. Monty was never meant to become supernatural in any sense of the word. He was crow. Then, he’s suddenly a boy with real feelings and real impact on others, being able to communicate with them in a meaningful way. At first, Edwin was Monty’s mission. Make him trust you, lure him and Charles in – cause you realise Charles follows wherever Edwin goes – and leave him in his betrayal.

And that backfires spectacularly cause Monty never counted on Edwin being – again, kind. He does not openly show it but he’s by no means cold when he meets Monty. Honestly, his behaviour reminds me of myself being shy and anxious in social interactions. That might be read as disinterested but it’s not. Of course, when they meet, Monty is obviously just over the moon because wow, that boy’s pretty, right? That’s new to him, being attracted to someone, and that’s probably why Monty feels it so strongly. The astrology books are a way to get close to Edwin but then Monty wants to step closer and closer as he realises that Edwin genuinely invests his time into his conversations with Monty and becomes more approachable. Monty can see their progress. Someone is aware of Monty and deems him important, a small centre of the universe for a small amount of time.

Also, Monty is entirely new to this “being human” thing (aren’t we all?) and Edwin always seems incredibly confident. And he has every reason to be confident. He is a Dead Boy Detective, after all – he’s competent in his profession. For Monty, Edwin is the one who has it figured out while Monty basks in his attention. That’s why Monty seems to rotate around Edwin and finds him so exciting.

So there's that, I guess? additional thoughts are sooo appreciated, i love this fandom and id love talking with y'all about all this

[kirarinlovesidols]

Love Interests and some discussions.

Hello y'all, good morning, noon or evening. Today i would like to finally address the elephant in the room that is: character's ages.

So i'll rip off the bandaid and be clear: i'm not changing them, they're remaining canon.

Yall are prolly thinking "But in't mc 500???? isn't that bad? why not age them up!" 

For two reasons.

1: These boys and their behavior is extremely juvenile most of the time, i don't think the first years suddenly being 2 years older should happen without significative changes in their personalities. Yes, i'm aware that 2 years is barely enough time for someone to change much specially teens(I'm turning 21 like next week and i have trouble reminding myself i'm not a minor anymore, that's how little this shit can change if at all). But due to the nature of NRC and the ppl in it these characters would undergo so many things in their lives inside these 2 years that it doesn't feel right to me to make them act the same or even worse speculate on how, for example, older Ace or Epel would act without canonical material for that.

2: Wheter people like it or not NRC is a HighSchool. Yes, yes i know that y'all are probably going "WHY IS IT CALLED COLLEGE THEN". 

*Sigh* Y'know, eve since all we had for this game was the jp website and Malleu's illustration where he's rising from his coffin and nothing else i just had the feeling english speakers would have trouble with the school's name.

You see, college can mean "school" in other countries, not necessarily university.

I know that cause i'm brazillian, we literally have the word "Colégio" which is a synonym for Escola(School). In japanese it's essentially the same and that's a mistake made by JP Disney who didn't consider this when naming NRC.

Japan has many synonyms for school and since college can mean school they didn't think too much about it despite having a very different word for university (Daigaku).

And i'm a firm believer that relationships between some immortal being and a human is always going to end up in some kind of difference and if you're gonna problematize it you're gonna end up not ever watching or reading ANYTHING anymore, specially Lillia stans.

Like? Kamisama Hajimemashita fans? cooked

Inuyasha fans? cooked!

And the list goes on.

Why would i need to feel guilty about it if i'm not writing smut.

Like this a sfw story, these characters are NOT going to fuck.

People need to stop assuming that every relationship in fanfiction is going to end up portraying sex.

The most i'll do is some passing suggestive thought or so cause these are teenage boys, everyone knows how they are and the puritan parade can go cry louder abt it but everyone knows teens, it is what it is.

But that's MY personal take on it on MY story so ofc ppl can and are free to have whatever other views about this topic, as long as we're all respectful, mature and civillized.

Anyway now that that is finally out of the way we shall talk about the love interests.

Romantic Love Interests:

Heartslabyul: 

Riddle Rosehearts

Ace Trappola

Deuce Spade

Savanaclaw:

Leona Kingscholar

Jack Howl

Ruggie Bucchi

Octavinelle:

Azul Ashengrotto

Jade Leech

Floyd Leech

Scarabia:

Kalim Al-Asim

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore:

Epel Felmier

Ignihyde: Idia Shroud

Diasomnia:

Malleus Draconia

Silver

Lilia Vanrouge

Platonic Relationships: (Characters here are to be seen in a sibling or friend light)

Cater Diamond

Trey Clover

Vil Schoenheit

Rook Hunt

Ortho Shroud

Sebek Zigvolt

Also about MC's behavior, yes it's sometimes supposed to be wavy or ooc.

Sometimes she'll do or say things you would think she wouldn't do, it'll be explained why later.

Consider this a form of foreshadowing.

My writing isn't stellar so i do advise to keep the bar y'know kinda low as this is mainly for fun despite trying my best. 

[the-dalseum-duet]

I’m going insane

@svwhssftr late night kohlsposting meets queer girlie music taste tag

oh God. oh god KILL ME

bags… i’m not like the biggest Clairo fan ever but i really liked her in middle school and now that bags is blowing up I’m reminded of just how baller her music is. she’s just so airy and cutesy and nostalgic and it makes me want to gut myself. i actually have insane cuteness aggression. i see something cute and i resort to extreme forms of violence. can’t have anything good around here without getting it a lil bloody

(the first time i heard this song was in a rory x paris edit and they’re my one and only comfort ship. they’re so. grrrrr I love them dearly like it physically hurts me that both are “””straight””” BITCH THEY KISSED anyway this is not about the most goated gilmore girls ship. those academic rivals are LESBIANS!!! the writers are SO WRONG)

but i keep seeing posts like “men who listen to Clairo are the most manipulative people of all time” and it’s funny in theory. but. ideas. IDEAS. GRAHHHH

so. this leads me to noeul. Naturally. Manipulative man ever. But noeul does indeed have a soul buried deep down inside him. He is naturally inclined to do things that bring him genuine joy. He is a hopeless romantic bitch HE IS I’M SO SORRY. NATURALLY. HE IS. HE WAS NOT BORN INTO A POSITION WHERE HE COULD FEASIBLY BE ONE. BUT HE IS REGARDLESS. AND HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE THIS

like he obviously has a strong romantic attraction to Charlie. he stays in dirty motels to see her and blindly trusts her multiple times. he proposes to her. that’s a massive fucking deal coming from him. Living in Eden Grove gave him a sliver of life as a normal human being, and he fell head over heels as soon as he had the opportunity. Charlie made him feel safe. But like. In the way that you feel it’s wrong. It’s very queer even though he’s a man. And she is a woman. They are the gayest straight couple ever. It’s a hard phenomenon to describe but it’s so strong and it’s so conflicting but it’s so warm and hopeful and. ughhh. tl;dr Noeul has emotions he knows he should have but knows he can’t have 

but he suppresses these HARD once he returns to Dalseum. he has to be cutthroat again and maintain the image he had with the Council. this only worsens once his father dies. this is why he cheats on Charlie with Sonnet because he feels like he should be with Sonnet. Sonnet is a prominent community member who will blindly agree with him. Charlie is this nobody who opposes his authority. So he freaks out and just throws her in prison so he doesn’t have to think about what could have been. Sonnet is who he realistically should end up with. He cannot afford to do what makes him happy and, in turn, a better fucking human. 

Oh yeah. He absolutely has a breakdown once he learns about the existence of Crow. Also why he actually realizes that there is room for kindness inside of him. Crow’s existence as their child. But that’s neither here nor there rn i just love torturing this man. 

But. Here’s where we torture him more. Kai. Kai fits this into a way that makes me want to bash my head into a wall even more. 

Noeul sleeps around in a feigned attempt to crush his romantic tendencies. He’s not supposed to be sappy. He’s supposed to be cold and all exchanges with others must be neutral, if not beneficial to only him. Which is how he meets Kai. This was established previously. At one of Gale’s shows. 

And. Throwing this out there. Just to toxic-ify this yaoi even further. Noeul actually really fucking likes him. Like he gets flustered occasionally around him. Kai is a dumbass (affectionate) and doesn’t pick up on this but Sara absolutely does and picks at Noeul for this. But Noeul definitely picks up on Kai not actually caring for him so Noeul acts like he doesn’t care either. But ohh hohohoho he does!! This little whore DOES care so much!! He WANTS romantic dates out on the town and he wouldn’t trade the mornings they wake up next to each other for ANYTHING!! HE LOVES HIS STUPID BITS AND THE WAY HE SMILES AND THE WAY HE PERFECTLY FITS INSIDE HIS ARMS!!!! HE LOVES THAT DAMN SHARK BOY!! But Kai’s just oblivious. He’s just like “eh he sleeps around with Everyone. he just wants to have some fun and I’m cool with that. he’s just like that” BUT HE’S ACTUALLY NOT LIKE THAT. THAT’S WHAT HE WANTS EVERYONE TO THINK. THAT’S WHAT HE WANTS EVERYONE BUT KAI TO THINK!!

that’s it. that’s all. 

just. picturing Sara walking in on Noeul violently sobbing face planted onto his bed with Bags by Clairo playing on repeat in the background 

“…are you okay?”

“WHY DO I FEEL LIKE THIS”

“hungover?”

“worse.”

“kai?”

“NO”

“you’re in love, sang. I’ve never seen you act like that before. stay in denial all you want”

“fuck off sara”

“I’m just saying. It’s better if you figure it out yourself. I’m just pushing you in the right direction”

“there is no right direction here.”

“is that fucking pheobe bridgers?”

“NO!”

“oh-“

“it’s Clairo”

“oh my bad?”

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

She Will Be Loved - chapter 3: New Beginnings

Work summary: After bonding with a teen girl, the daughter of the victims of a BAU case, Luke and Penelope decide to consider adoption as their path to parenthood.

Chapter summary: Luke and Penelope start their adoption journey with Vivian. It's going to be an adjustment for everyone involved, but they all have faith that they'll make it through.

Total word count: 8429

Chapter word count: 1454

This chapter goes out to @lklvz for giving me the names for some background characters, as well as @bacchicly for reminding me way back when i started this story that Emily tried to adopt a daughter of case victims, which is relevant in this chapter

Can also be read here on Ao3

“Oh, it’s definitely possible.”

Luke stared at Emily. “Wait, really?” He’d just pitched to her the idea of him and Penelope pursuing adopting Vivian, wanting to know if it was a conflict of interest in any way.

“Oh yeah. I mean, you hear stories in the news all the time of cops adopting kids they helped save. I almost did it myself, years ago.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. There was a team of family annihilators, and by chance, one of the girls happened to survive. She was taken in by family, but I was prepared. When I suggested it to Hotch, he told me he needed to know that I would be able to focus on the job and not let my heart get tugged every time. Granted, he didn’t know me very well by that point. I was new to the team. I told him I needed to know that I could be human. I know you, I know Penelope, I believe that this would be a really good opportunity for you two. If you can do it, go for it.”

That was the last piece of encouragement he needed. When he got home that night, he told Penelope about his conversation with Emily. The two of them had a lengthy talk about it, and they decided that, yes, this was what they were going to do. Vivian or not, they were going to adopt a kid. They were going to have a family.

The process took them a long time, months, and that was with the help of the connections they had. There were endless forms, and they had to be approved, and their house had to be approved, amongst other things. It was a long process, but they knew it would be worth every second if they got to make a kid’s life better because of it.

They had done the process through the group home Vivian was at, so, as soon as it was done, they could come in and meet with social workers and kids. 

Obviously, they already had one in mind.

***

Vivian and Claire sitting close together on a couch in one of the loungerooms, scrolling through TikTok on Claire’s phone, when one of the staff members came into the room and gestured for Vivian to come talk to her. 

“One, sec,” she whispered to Claire. She walked over to May, the staff member who’d called her over. “What’s up?”

“There’s a couple here who recently got approved as foster parents, and they’d like to talk to you, to see if you’d be interested in going home with them.”

Vivian’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “What? And these people are fostering with intent to adopt, right? Those are the only parents who come here. Without intent get the kids before they come here.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“So, why me? I’m fifteen, I’m halfway through High School, normally parents want a baby, or at least a little kid.”

“I think if you come out and meet them, it’ll make sense.”

Vivian turned back to face Claire, shrugging at her, before following May out of the room. 

She’d never been in the meeting room before, she’d only been there two years, and people didn’t tend to want teenagers all that much. Upon entering, she saw Bella, one of the other staff members of the home, a blonde woman dressed in bright and colorful clothing that she’d never seen before, and…

“Agent Alvez? Er… Luke?” She hadn’t seen the kind agent who’d saved her in months, but there he was, right in front of her, and, apparently, interested in adopting her.

He smiled warmly at her. “Hi, Vivian.”

Vivian turned to Bella. “Is this a prank? This feels too much like a YouTube video to be actually happening right now.”

She laughed. “No, it’s not a prank. I’ll give you three a minute to chat.”

Vivian awkwardly sat down across from them. “So. Uh. Hi.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I’ve just never done this before.”

“Neither have we,” the woman said comfortingly. “Also, hi, I’m Penelope, Luke’s wife.”

Vivian instantly adored that woman. Kindness seeped out of her, and her voice was so soothing. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Penelope smiled at her. “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

“I don’t even know what to talk about in these kinds of meetings,” Vivian admitted with a laugh. “I never bothered asking. I never thought it would happen for me.”

Luke smiled at her. “Neither have we.”

“We know a bit about you,” Penelope said. “Do you want to know anything about us?”

“Why me?” Vivian blurted. “I mean, most prospective parents want little kids. I’m fifteen.”

“And therefore less worthy of parents? A family?” Luke questioned.

“Well…”

“I’m sorry if this at all made you uncomfortable,” Luke said. “That wasn’t our intention.”

“It didn’t!” Vivian rushed to say. “It was just surprising. But honestly, I’m really excited.” Truth be told, she had wondered over the past few months if the kind agent and his wife had ever adopted. She found herself irrationally jealous at the thought.

The couple’s faces lit up.

“So you’re interested?” Penelope asked. “In staying with us? Giving it a trial run?”

Vivian nodded. “Yeah, for sure!”

Luke grinned. “Great. We’re really glad to hear that. I’m guessing you probably have some things you want to pack and bring, so while you do that, we’ll work on the paperwork.”

Vivian bounced up from her chair, beaming. She barely saw Bella as she ran to her and Claire’s room.

“Woah, where’s the fire?” Claire teased. “What’s going on?”

“Remember the FBI Agent I told you about? The one who picked me up and was really kind to me? Luke?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“He and his wife are here for me.”

Claire’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god, are you in danger again? Did something happen?”

“What? No! Claire, they’re here for me.”

Vivian watched as the realization dawned on Claire. “Wait… so they’re fostering you? Potentially adopting you if all goes well?”

Vivian nodded, some tears rising in her eyes. She hadn’t felt wanted in years.

Claire threw her arms around Vivian. “Oh my god! That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you! Okay, let me help you pack all your things.”

“The only part of this that sucks is that I may be leaving you for good this time.”

Claire’s smile dropped. “Yeah, but at least this time it’s not because your life may be in danger. We’ll be able to visit and hang out. And we’ll still text all the time. You’re not getting rid of me.”

Vivian grinned at her. “Like I’d ever try to.”

***

About an hour later, Vivian re-emerged with her bags and a girl roughly her age trailing behind her. 

“Claire, these are Luke and Penelope, the couple I told you about,” she introduced. “Luke and Penelope, this is my best friend Claire.”

Luke cast a glance at Penelope. He knew this would be the biggest adjustment for Vivian, living without her support system, Claire. He’d told her as much. “It’s nice to meet you, Claire,” he said.

“You too.”

“You know, Vivian,” Penelope said. “You’ll probably want a hand unpacking and getting settled, plus we’ll probably go shopping for things for your room, does your friend want to come with us and help you out?”

The smiles that lit up the two girls’ faces showed that Penelope’s suggestion was a very welcome one.

Claire turned to Bella, the staff member. “Can I?”

“You know the rules, be back by curfew. Have fun, ladies. We’ll miss you, Vivian.”

Vivian smiled at her. “I’ll miss you too. Thank you, for everything.”

The four of them spent the rest of the day shopping, setting up Vivian’s room, making sure she was comfortable and had everything she’d need. Luke and Penelope decided to take the girls out for a nice dinner before dropping Claire back off at the home.

They watched from the car as the girls embraced tearfully.

“I’m so excited for this, but it breaks my heart to separate them,” Penelope confessed.

“I know.” Luke reached over and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. “This will be an adjustment for all of us. But I really think we’ll be okay.”

She leaned into his touch. “Of course we will, we’re us. We’ve overcome worse.”

Vivian got back into the car then, wiping a stray tear from her face.

“How are you feeling?” Luke asked as they commenced the drive home.

“Bittersweet? Terrified and excited all at once? And a little sad.”

“I think all of that is perfectly normal.”

“Mostly excited, though.”

Penelope smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “We’re excited too.”

[vesicapiscean]

im gonna try to type out what i can remember about my dream now that im in class and can’t pay attention to lecture

i joined some kind of all girls or girls majority group, like a cult or a school or coven or something. i was going to the classes and learning about the people and what the place was about (same school and neighborhood and house that i’ve always been dreaming of) i can’t remember any of the teachings but i know it was spiritual or occult in some way. i was still myself as i am IRL i was feeling antisocial and not wanting to talk to anyone or do anything. listening to one of the teachings i was hanging out with my friend brenden who was so skinny i felt his spine and i could basically wrap my fingers around it. I think there were like 2 or 3 boys there. the living quarters was all female. i remember i was about to leave the house with a little group of people and i decided to pull out my sketchbook to show people or to have people look at at their leisure. I looked through it and didn’t recognize any of the drawings. i went outside and we were standing by the cars and i suddenly saw a huge flash in the sky. like a meteor or a shooting star, but it started at the bottom of the sky line and moved up quickly, then sideways as it got smaller and then it zipped down and crashed into a commercial area. as it got smaller it looked like a jelly fish or something like that. and it was flashing pink and blue. when it crashed i was able to see it from afar (dream physics) and it looked like the Akira computer visualization but on its side and huge. i was so shocked i was unable to look away but also unable to fully understand what i was looking at.

there was a being with a strange form, like human but not quite because it was taller and seemed too ethereal and hard to comprehend. they came to the group i was standing with and they were emanating bright light and warmth, we were engulfed. we knew they were here to see one of us, it was something from the teachings of the group that we were experiencing first hand. i couldn’t tell right away but i could feel it. they selected one of the girls from the group, and they performed some kind of ritual together. the being produced a weird ball that looked like play doh and peeled “leaves” off of it. first they ate three green leaves, then they ate three yellow leaves. then some hand signals and i think a repeated phrase and then they both disappeared in a shimmery spiral. and we were all so excited and blow away, i think the vibe for all of us was just starstuck almost shocked and traumatized but in a positive way, like what we thought would happen actually happened.

we went back to the dorms and we were all really excited and busy with studying, cleaning, and talking to each other. i know we had to attend a class regarding what we had witnessed but i don’t remember much more past this point. the last thing i remember was a girl coming to my room and wanting to put her laundry in with mine. by this time we were all like sisters. she gestured to my laundry basket and i just said “mhm” and she added her clothes to my basket. i was too distracted looking into a box of needles and safety pins to look up at her, but i telepathically told her i appreciated how little we needed to talk. and then i woke up. i really wish i could have stayed, it reminded me so much of other cultish dreams i’ve had before and i only want to discover more. but alas none of it is real none of it happened and none of it could even possibly happen.

[heresmaitake]

Just a human, after all.

Hi, happy Wednesday, the 29th. Yesterday, I was so happy, but today I woke up feeling a bit weary. Some things don’t happen the way we want them to, and when we are too obsessed with something, disappointment is bound to happen. I cannot specify here what didn’t go my way as it is a bit too personal, but let’s just say I was really into something (it’s really just something, not someone) and things didn’t turn out as I had hoped. I know this feeling will go away in a week or two, but I swear, I hate feeling like this and my way of coping is to write about it.

Whenever I go through this kind of feeling, I always remind myself: "Oh, I'm feeling like this is so hard right now, but it might not be a big deal anymore tomorrow. And if I'm still not feeling okay tomorrow, there are still so many days ahead where this thing won’t be a big deal anymore." But even with this mindset, living through feeling weary is hard for me. Although I know my feelings will change and I’ll be okay again at some point, it is still hard right now, and I have no choice but to endure it.

I'm the type of person who gets attached to things quite easily. I guess even when I'm in a relationship, I get attached quickly, but I'm more rational in a romantic relationship, so I know my limits when it comes to being attached to another human being. I'm always more on the rational side when it comes to love, not only love for a romantic partner but also love for my favourite actresses or actors. I tend to prevent myself from having parasocial relationships, especially with actors, because if I'm too attached to a celebrity, especially if it's a man, I might not want them to be real humans living their lives. I experienced this during middle school when I liked Joe Jonas. I’ve learned my lesson from that. Now that I'm older, most of the time when I'm watching something, I fall more for the actresses than the actors. To be honest, being an actress fan is so much more fun than being an actor or male celebrity fan. But when it comes to things like movies, series, or books, I don't hold myself back. I'll get as attached as any human can be, which then affects my day-to-day mood. I'm making a lot of effort to get better at this, but because of my "attachment" issues, reality still occasionally slaps me in the face.

I'm also the type of person who always tries to find the logic and reasons behind my feelings. Whenever I'm in a bad mood, I'll seek resources to understand why I'm feeling the way I'm feeling. Is it normal? What can I do to heal, and bounce back? Do I need to see a psychologist? I'm someone who tries hard to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling. I read articles, books, and sometimes even go to forums to find answers or at least some form of comfort. This helps me feel a bit more in control, even when emotions are running high. It's like having a roadmap when I'm lost, it doesn't instantly solve the problem, but it makes me feel human, realising that, again, I'm just a human.

People sometimes tell me my "attachment" issues might arise from not having a real-life romantic partner. Some say I might be lonely and that I make big deals out of nothing. But honestly, I’m a bit thankful that I'm not dating anyone right now because I have so much on my plate. I'm not good at multitasking (between work, applying for school, and dating), and I might come off as someone who complains a lot or is unable to show my real feelings to a partner with everything I have going on in my life. I’d be glad if I met someone who could understand me and be with me despite my current situation, my ambitions, and the possibility of us doing a long-distance relationship because of me leaving to live in another country. But I'm honestly content with my life right now, and I've been feeling up and down just because of small issues like what I’m talking about here. It’s not something that is so big and has a big impact on my life, but you know, the uncomfortable feeling of not being in the mood still bothers me.

Life's problems don’t just disappear because we have a partner, and I think me being a little bit too attached to something is still on a normal level for a human being. Even if it is a problem, it's not one that can be solved by dating someone. It doesn’t make sense to find the answer to my own problems in a romantic relationship.

It’s frustrating because I know that this too shall pass, but in the moment, it feels overwhelming. Sometimes, it feels like no matter how much I try to prepare myself for potential disappointments, they still hit hard. I guess that’s just part of being human having expectations, dreams, and hopes, and sometimes seeing them crumble. It's tough to face the reality that not everything is within my control, and that's a lesson I seem to be learning over and over again.

So here I am, pouring out my feelings in the hope that putting them into words will help lighten the burden. Writing about my feelings helps me process them. It’s a way to vent, to make sense of what I’m going through, and to remind myself that it’s okay to feel this way. I know that eventually, I’ll bounce back, and these feelings will become a distant memory. But for now, it’s hard, and I need to acknowledge that. Maybe tomorrow will be better, and if not, there’s always the day after that. It’s a slow journey, but I’m trying to take it one step at a time.

[arrowhearts]

thinking about

what if means to be a guardian to a child who is 'bad' and 'dangerous'

i am intending to write more about this at a later point

[original drafted dated January 7th]

my current job situation at the elementary school I work at is that I have been placed as a paraprofessional for a "full time emotional support" classroom. One way this has been described to me, is as a classroom for kids who can't handle being in mainstream classes due to behavior issues and/or home life trauma. The teacher I'm with describes herself as teaching the bad kids.

I do not respect this teacher. She's taught for decades, but she has not allowed that experience to see students as deserving of humanity. She claims to care, claims to want to see the students supported and successful. This feels untrue. She daily mocks students to their faces about past mistakes. She insults their families. She threatens. She sets frustratingly tedious assignments (copying down dozens of vocab words for a 2nd grader), and when students make good faith effort to work on assignments she constantly criticizes them.

I feel stuck. I was warned by other paraprofessionals that this teacher hold grudges, and is unable to keep aides because of how negative her teaching style is. It's true.

It's not just this teacher.

The violence that staff inflict on students in this class is also akin to other more recognizable forms of institutionalization. Or rather, there are 2 kinds of hurt that happens in this classroom: the kind that students are to blame for, and the kind that staff inflict in the name of caring and/or educating. You're only allowed to talk about the first one.

I'm staff in this situation. I don't know how much I can bend rules, and do anything meaningful for these students. I do not say this to absolve myself of responsibility. While I am at this job, it's the reality.

I care about the 3 students in this class. I can't protect them.

What I can do in a limited way is: --as I have seen other staff do--emphasize different aspects of their personalities than are typically allowed to be present. (I'm going to post this, stream of consciousness style, but even I know that probably doesn't explain a lot). An example: 2nd grade boy. He's every day being told that he won't earn rewards because he's always messing up. He's being reminded of property he destroyed while upset. He's being treated like someone who will break into a fight at any moment. He's being told that another 2nd grade girl at this same school will never want him as a boyfriend unless he 'gets his act together'.

In this teacher's presence he messes up. He rips up worksheets, and knocks over desks. He gets into fights with other kids. He never has his act together.

Once, a pre-k teacher had to cover for the classroom because we don't have subs. She appears to tell this 2nd grader other stories about himself. She spoke of him as an older brother. She lets him periodically help out in her pre-k classroom. She speaks of him as a kid who can be trusted with beautiful and delicate things.

He helps the younger students with game they are struggling with. He is allowed to be more than just a bad and dangerous kid in her presence.

I think it is worthwhile to seek out that connection with students.

[deepestuniversallove]

Hello, no, I don’t mind you responding to it at all. In fact, you are very welcome to, and I would like to hear another person’s perspective. I am not offended at all by what you wrote, in fact I think your input has helped me in the process of coming to terms with things. Just knowing that I am not entirely on my own in this is so so helpful.

I am so sorry that you also had shitty parents and a shitty school life as well, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Young teens and kids in school are brutal to anyone who doesn’t conform to the standards that were set up by the majority. If anyone dared to be different or have a different opinion, they were shunned. I remember how the internet brought a kind of relief back then, because suddenly I have found people who had the same niche interests I did. I think that maybe that is what kind of throws me back to the past and the loneliness I used to feel back then – because now, that same highschool mentality of “conform or you are a hater and should be shunned” is now prevalent in fandoms on tumblr. There are the popular artists that act very much like the popular kids in highschool do, even down to leveraging the power they have in numbers. They have so many fans that will just believe anything they say, while the loner kid will always just stand there alone with no one to back them up. I remember a time when internet communities didn’t use to be like highschool. I guess that is why I don’t really like the “selfship community” on tumblr much any more either, but I digress.

It's interesting to hear about someone having Newtwo mean so much to them! I don’t know much about having alts or introjects, so it’s something new I learned about here. In my case, Mewtwo is this inner voice inside of me that tells me that I am loved whenever I am berating myself mentally. He is the one that tells me to forgive myself, that tells me that “no, you are not a bitch or worthless”. Basically, within me, he is the one that reminds me of the good things when negative emotions become overwhelming. The Mewtwo from “Mewtwo Returns” is the closest to the Mewtwo living in my mind and heart, as his story is very much the same as mine – trying to run away from a narcissist and to build an own life and own place in the world. For young teenage me, who was bullied at school and then at home, he was the only one telling me to hold on and tough it out, one day I will be free. He saw himself as a monster created to only be a slave, but wanting to be more than that, and I felt that way too.

My version of Mewtwo doesn’t align entirely with canon Mewtwo either – since I fell in love with Mewtwo right after seeing the first movie, and before “Mewtwo Returns” came out, my version of Mewtwo has a different story where events of the second movie don’t entirely play out the same. (Meaning that in my mind, I met Mewtwo slightly before the events of that movie. And I imagined myself to be friends with his clones too, they are all so precious)

You are right, that everyone has their own view on how canon!Mewtwo or canon!Newtwo is like, thus morphing them into something that they may not be in the original. But I guess that is the beauty of fiction and of written literature in general – every reader or watcher of media will come to their own conclusions about the characters in the stories and form an own image of them inside their minds, sometimes wildly different from how they are from the vision of the original character creator. Their own biases and upbringing will color what these characters will become in the consumer’s mind. In my case, Mewtwo morphed into a guardian angel, and a romantic lover who makes me believe that other dimensions exist that humans cannot quite touch. In others’ minds again, he morphs into a power-hungry maniac; in others still he becomes a haha-comic-relief character, and even sexualities will get assigned to them.

I think it does help me that you reminded me that those different Mewtwos I see in the fandom are not like MY version of him, and that all versions of him are basically OCs that are based on the original, canon version of him. They may share the same backstory (with Aitwo and Giovanni and all), but nothing else beyond that. And we will never know how the canon Mewtwo would have continued to be past “Mewtwo Returns”, since Takeshi Shudo isn’t alive any more to tell us how he as the author would have done it. So yes, I think it helps to see the other versions of Mewtwo that the fandom creates as different OCs, even if they feel “wrong” to me, like all the different versions of M16 may feel wrong to you. In Newtwo’s case, even MORE variation is possible, since her backstory wasn’t even delved into too much in canon, thus leaving open even more possibilities for interpretation.

In the end, I think you are right, I am uncomfortable with certain depictions of Mewtwo, even more so when they are so widely celebrated. It feels invalidating, like you said. Even more so when these artists are so popular and you yourself are barely even known, despite being at it for far longer than they have been.

I haven't quite figured out yet how to stop myself from going down that mental road of feeling invalidated. Denying myself my selfship with Mewtwo isn't an option when he represents a bastion of self-love in me; trying to compete with the popular artists is not possible for me, because I am firstly, not comfortable with the format of an ask blog (as most story arcs are already done and don't need any outside input), and secondly, I am probably not funny enough for that stuff. And Thirdly, my work-life balance is shit. I come home from a laboratory, exhausted from work and go the bed for a nap, and lately have no inspiration or motivation to draw (or at least to draw more Mewtwo, or more of Mewtwo x Me). The question of "what is even the point?" still lingers - If I know I can't "win" in this rat-race, is it even worth it at all to draw? My friends say to do it for myself, but… is it really for myself any more if I post anything I created online? Because once posted, it is also there for others to be consumed.

I try to distance myself, but the sheer popularity of their stuff makes complete distancing nigh impossible. Someone I follow WILL eventually reblog the stuff that I went out of my way to NOT SEE, and I guess at this point I will just have to unfollow everyone who reblogs from them because fuck, I do not want to see that. Even more upsetting is when friends of mine came to me to gush about how awesome their stuff is, or, even worse, asked me to collab with these artists. Why would I ever collab with them if I dislike their stuff? Stop asking already!

Now, true, this isn't the artists' fault if I still get upset by seeing their stuff, and maybe in this regard I should have just kept my mouth shut indeed. I just… needed to know I was not alone in this. Because their hordes of fans make it seem like I am the only one who dislikes certain things about their creations, and that is a lonely experience too. In that, you have already helped me out tremendously by letting me know that I am not alone after all, so thank you so much for that! True, there are a lot of kids in the fandom, and for them, they are definitely excused for wanting to use a flower as a magical macguffin for their stories. If helps them avoid topics they do not want to delve into, more power to them. I guess it all comes back to how they see Mewtwo or Newtwo from the lense of their psyche and their interpretation, as I mentioned before. Of course, if the artist is acespec, they won't do any story about sideway tangos.

I guess that maybe my anger was misdirected, and I am more disappointed with the fandom than what the popular artists are doing. It is not okay that certain AUs are declared "canon" by the fandom when they aren't, and just based on popular vote and the majority. Which is again, High-school mentality at play, but no wonder if many of the fans are on the younger side.

And oh, the vague-blogging. Lord knows that I got several DMs from said popular artists, one of them trying to engage me to clearly argue with them. My policy too is to simply not engage - I have read their messages, but I refuse to reply if it will only lead into further strife and arguments. I have stated my thoughts already in a reblog - any more than that through DMs or on a Discord server would be overkill and unnecessary. It is their choice what they do with it, whether they choose to hyperfocus on one negative opinion, or instead bathe in their popularity and adoring fans (of which they have plenty). Vagueblogging about it is not gonna change my opinion or dislike of their works, though, if anything, it will only make me dislike them more as a person, because it shows they didn't have the dignity to just let it rest. It is clear that I don't like them or their works, and that this feeling is mutual. And that is that.

In any case, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for your mature response to my vent post, it was a delight to read and a big help as well! May you have a good day and rest of the week!

Just a long vent about a specific niche fandom. Don't read if you don't want to hear me rant.

I just need to vent here for a little bit, and I am sorry if this i all incoherent.

I hate what fandom has become. What tumblr has become. What I have become.

I never used to be this way and never used to feel anger before, or jealousy or those 'ugly' feelings, as I was never allowed to. Being raised by a narcissist, you become a people pleaser and you learn quickly that you are never to show any negative emotions. Anger isn't permitted, disgust and unhappiness isn't permitted. As a good slave you don't need to have these emotions, so you learn to supress them to the point where you aren't ever feeling them consciously.

So all of this is so new to me. To actually f*cking hate the guts of some people on here. To fucking hate that they are so damn popular when all they do is shitposting and meme-ing the one that means so much to me to death. And even blocking them won't do a thing because tumblr still shows me their shit, or some fan is gushing about their stuff where I see it, and it just annoys the piss out of me. The tag I used to browse has been rendered useless to me here on tumblr. I long for the days when I was able to just see some nice art of him alone or serious discussions about him, like character analyses, or sharing obscure facts about him.

I don't even know why exactly it pisses me off so much - and I don't want to be the "Fun Police" here; everyone should still be able to do as they please and make whatever the fuck they want on their tumblr blogs, even if it is shitposting. Even if their stories don't make any logical sense at all.

I guess... I just wish Fandom wasn't so dumb with what ultimately are just headcanons. They are taking those stories as if they are canon when they are just fan creations, to the point where they harrass other creators who might come up with other things. For example, if you hate on Mewtwo x Newtwo because it would be "incest", then you are WRONG, because canonically, it was never proven that they were siblings. Canonically, there is no reason to think that Mew is the Mother who actually gave birth to Mewtwo (if you follow the movie-verse, that is. In the games, she did give birth to Mewtwo).

And sure, I realize that me criticising those fan creations is also taking headcanons way too seriously, but... I can't explain it entirely. I just want to be able to state my opinions. Be the one person that isn't always congratulating them on every creation, but also points out the flaws in their storytelling so that they, I dunno, may improve? I am frustrated that I can't even do that - I was told to shut up, or post my opinions on my blog only, probably so that my thoughts aren't seen by anyone and get buried. But I am fucking tired of that. I grew to hate being invisible. I hate making myself small for the benefit of others. Can't I be loud and angry for once in my life? Even if it is on the internet about something stupid? For once in my life, can't I voice my disdain for something after a lifetime of not being allowed to? After AvPD makes this nigh impossible of a feat for me?

One dissenting voice won't harm the popular creators anyway - they have thousands of adoring fans who will wholeheartedly take anything they make and not question it at all. They will go on and create what they want anyway, so what hurt does it do to say "hey, maybe this idea needs some ironing out because it doesn't make sense?"

On another note, I wish that if anyone here has a problem with me to not harrass people that may know me/are friends with me. I saw some anon going around and complaining about me to them - I'd rather you take your complaints to me directly than to them, since they got nothing to do with what I create or do.

For example, I saw someone who told an acquaintance of mine that it is hypocritical of me that I have Babytwos but "attack" others for doing the same. Listen, it is not that others have Babytwos that I critiqued, it's the METHOD of having them via a flower pregnancy when Mew is not a plant type and Mewtwo isn't either. It doesn't make any sense and I should be allowed to say at least that much without getting bullied in turn. That is really all I ask for. Getting Babytwos via cloning, test tubes, artifical insemination at least makes sense. Other than that, go ham and make as many Babytwos as you all want!

I also got told that I am not the owner of Mewtwo the character. Thank you, I know that. Where have I claimed I was? And if I feel a bit possessive over him, well, I got a damn reason for that. He saved me from unaliving myself TWICE. Thus he means a lot to me. I have been in love with him genuinely for 23 years. He is my guiding light. And while it is funny to see the occasional joke with him or a shitpost here and there, if it is constant, it just feels like you are treating him as nothing more than a joke. To me, he isn't a joke, he saved my life. I wouldn't have been posting on tumblr or anywhere at all since 2017 if it wasn't for him. So excuse me if I am a bit possessive over him.

Overall, I just wish people weren't so trigger-happy to take a contrary opinion as an attack immediately. I am not attacking anyone. You will never find me sending any hate DMs or Hate asks to anyone. I don't do that shit.

And if you hate me, you are free to do that too. I know that not everyone likes me. I know there are some people who wish I WAS dead. Or who think that I have ruined Mewtwo for them with my selfship. I mean, I got plenty of "Ew Bestiality" back in the day, if that is any indication. And it's not much of a change in the status quo anyhow. My own parents hate me, I got bullied in school when I was younger, so I am used to being disliked or hated. It used to hurt me back then, but by now I learned that giving a fuck really isn't worth it. I used to want to please everyone and make everyone happy. It used to destroy me when anyone told me they don't like me. Like, it CRUSHED me. But now? I realize that no matter how hard you try, you won't be able to please everyone. Some sadistic fucks may even get off on you trying that and failing. And many people I considered friends only turned out to just use me because of my people-pleasing tendencies.

So, fuck it. If the world is going to hate me anyway, the least I can do is to do whatever the fuck I want and whatever makes me happy. Deal with it.

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

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

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

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

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

Like the one I made two days ago.

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

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

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

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

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

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

Because I’m not

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It sure is, it sure is.

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[digitalgate02]

Ni unpacks some design comments on the new 02 group's design.

(because all i wanted was just one person's motivational boost to make this lol) (i got three. extra dose of motivation boost)

This is kinda a thing i like the most -- i love do design characters and coloring, so i'm always studying character reference sheets for the sake of learning bits and improving my own art 👀

So, we recently had more details (even if bare minimum) for Digi02: The Beginning, and i'd like to write a post analyzing their clothes and the coloring. Also their hairstyles too (hello Miyako, Hikari??)

So, let's roll!!

Daisuke's design!!

Ok, i had talked about this one before (when we had the sketches of it revealed at Digimon Con lol) and I'm super duper happy with this color palette invoking Daisuke's original human world's clothes. Not only the style, BUT the coloring too!!

The first thing I notice is... He got pants now. Well, it's funny because since this movie is set in the Winter... 02 Daisuke had shorts on winter!? Okay, some people were also surprised by it too, no kidding. Anyway, this seems to be very comfy! And has the coloring of his iconic shorts hehe.

He did not ditch the dummy sunglasses, THANK GOODNESS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! Also i find funny the shoes are the reverse of his iconic boots -- White with orange details. His socks are the same color as his DW's socks (which were the same blue-color of his jacket, i'm not kiddin')

He got a cool vest that has the same colors of his vest in 02 😭 But this one has more details and is probably made with some extra layers for winter (i guess) -- and he's wearing a cool hoodie! Idk what is that stamp, but it has its bottom part colored in orange? Or is it a pouch? Haramaki...?? Who knows...!

Ken:

No ponytail aw... But i find him pretty with his short hair -- I'm really loving his short hair that i have to remind myself his hair was long when he was a kid orz

Whoa classy! Ken-chan continues to wear the finnest clothes as possible. He's really bringing some smooth detective style 🤔

His new friend, the hair sprout is still there and strong, I guess he's still a dummy like his other five friends lol. I love this little sprout, better he never cut that lone warrior or i will be upset.

There's not much to talk about here, only that he's very formal and classy. Ok, he's still wearing neutral colors but at least they're having not so sad like the grey uniform in 02.

I love his face tho, he's really pretty.

Miyako:

No headgear this time, my dear!? Wow you're so pretty without any accessories on!! I love her new glasses! Still round and Miyako-ish 🥰

I like the color palette of this outfit! The pink poncho with the cyan pantyhose/tights are a nice touch! Also wow those boots are so pretty 👀👌

I also noticed her hair is still curly and got some bangs hehe. I hope to see more cool Miyako's hairstyles in this movie -- Kizuna already was so precious about those two hairstyles 😭

Since the poncho covers a good part of her design, i can't say much about it. Anyway, maybe in the movie we see this one without the poncho... I hope so.

Iori:

Are we finally seeing Iori without a school uniform!? Wow, and he's pretty stylish somehow huh... Since Iori is a reserved and polite person like Ken, his design only differs from the fact is a bit more casual than Ken's classy detective coat.

Iori also likes neutral colors if you check his outfits in 02 & its previous movies. So, a grey jacket it's very in-character for him. His shoes have some interesting patterns and color scheme. I like the blue with black-purple and salmon colors. It suits Iori's personality imo.

Ah, he got a... watch? I wonder what kind of watch would fit Iori's personality... Analog or digital? 🤔

(also, i wonder if he's a little more taller now...)

Takeru:

I dunno why, but this one design reminds me 02 as well, but the yellow consumes a good part of the jacket, forming a "T" with the black accents on the upper body.

He got... a beanie now!? Wow, it's a cute beanie and the color matches with the entire design i think (the colorist of those design is a mad genius i love their color game) -- and he got some cool off-white sneakers with light gray, blue and orange red details 👀👌

I think this is very Takeru-ish. Ah, is he wearing a necklace under his jacket? Because I can see a necklace cord there...?

Hikari:

Hikari's a pretty lady. And by that, i mean we saw her outfits in Kizuna were a bit more sophisticated and comfy than stylish or simple. I feel like she's getting a good fashion game here and might be my most favorite of out of the six characters.

I love her sweater and pants. They're pretty and cute, and her coat is a nice addition to this design, especially its color. Hikari's color palette is more neutral than her 02 outfits (where Pink was almost in some part of said designs, even if by just one cloth piece of that color) and i think it shows how mature and pretty she became.

Also, we can notice her hairstyle is changing a little too! Her hair is getting longer enough to have this cute ponytail. Some strands are longer on her back too, and I'm in love with this new change of pace.

Stay cute and cool, Hikari-chan 💖

BONUS: Rui's design!!

Since he's a new character and it's his debut movie, there's not much to talk about his design, other than his spiky purple-grey-ish hair makes me think about Ken's late brother.

His palette has too much black, and some grey and white. I feel he's a sad person at this point... I don't know how to interpret this, since we know basically nothing about him and his possible partner Ukkomon. But, i think it's an intriguing character design.

I've seen a press' screenshot of the scene shown at the event, and seems like under that bang covering his eye... He's wearing an eyepatch?? Really, who are you Rui? I want to know more about you asap!!

That's all everyone!! I hope you enjoy my silly analysis of those seven characters 😊

Peace~✌

[writingwithcolor]

(1/2) In a story about an MC who rebels against a subjugating empire, forms a kingdom of her own, and then proceeds to go to war to liberate and form alliances with other subjugated kingdoms and peoples, I want to add a Jewish man to the supporting cast as a trusted advisor and friend who grounds her more aggressive political and military strategies. I realized as I wrote his inclusion into the plot, that I was assuming the Jewish people in this setting would be in a diaspora wanting to be...

(2/2) ...united again, since the unjust empire is inspired by the Roman one. What are some things that I, as a Latino Christian, should be aware of about modern Jewish thoughts and opinions on this time? Is this a story that you would want told, or would certain aspects of Jewish tradition/culture/religion make it an arc that I should avoid? If that's the case, what are some arcs that you would like to see this character go through? Would a deposed king reclaiming his throne be better?

Jewish advisor during a rebellion

I'm laughing at myself because I'm already attracted to your Jewish trusted advisor man character because I am predictable, oh no -- but anyway I really love this question. The main thing that jumps out at me, and it sounds like this is definitely already on your mind, is to make sure this man is part of the rest of us instead of being isolated with no other Jewish people in his life (after all, even someone who's the only Jewish person in the room has memories of their upbringing and/or opinions about Jewish celebrities and historical figures.) 

So if he has even one family member to go home to or another Jewish man that he plays a made-up board game with, that will contribute to making sure he's a fleshed-out character rather than "I needed someone to be smart and talking in a gentile leader's ear but who has nothing else going on in his own life" (which no matter how flattering of a portrayal you make it, has Grima Wormtongue overtones and it's probably best to veer away from that.)

Some things I can see happening to this character:

As a result of all the turmoil, he ends up taking care of a child or two who are Jewish and lost their family/families in the rebellion, providing them a safe place to feel nurtured and stay in the community

He's helping the (presumably gentile?) queen but also does stuff to make sure his own community is rebuilt like maybe if they weren't allowed to have a real synagogue under the empire, he helps organize getting one built finally. Or maybe if it was destroyed in the war, etc. etc. insert same.

--Shira

I love this idea and all of Shira’s suggestions! Giving him a way to be part of the wider Jewish community would be perfect.

I agree the main trope to avoid would be string-pulling, i.e. the character covertly and self-interestedly controlling political outcomes. But I think this will be easy to avoid in the context of your story just by making sure his suggestions are a net positive for both Jewish and non-Jewish people.

There was another ask recently where I wrote (fangirled) about the history of Jewish social activists, so that might be relevant for you as well:

Writing a secret cult controlling the government without reminding the audience of antisemitic conspiracy theories

 Also, not sure what the others think but this character kind of reminds me of Mordechai from Megillat Esther? He was kind of an advisor to Queen Esther in stopping the genocide of the Jewish people, often by bringing her information which, as queen, she wouldn’t normally have had access to. I feel like this could potentially strike a similar chord if it’s hard for your MC to know what people on the street are really saying due to her being the literal leader of the revolution, so that’s someone for you to potentially look into (although I’m not sure what that means for your crush as Mordechai is about 100 in the story – sorry, Shira!).

Character Arc

I just noticed that you also asked about what arcs this character would go through. I think it’s really cool that you want your Jewish character to have an arc rather than simply be there in the background for the growth of your MC! Any arc that best fits your narrative and drives home your message would be fine. The only thing I can think to watch out for is an arc that could be construed as ‘finding Jesus,’ which is not what we need in any Jewish character. 

Obviously, an arc that involves him giving up Torah commandments or discovering that Christmas is what makes us human wouldn’t be ideal, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what you were going for anyway! I’d say it is possible to give someone a Christian-centred arc more subtly and without meaning to. If he starts as someone who is fastidious and hard-line about obeying rules and ends on an ‘all you need is love’ note, that could also be read as a shift towards a Christian mindset – probably more so by anti-Semites than by Jewish people, who usually understand that there is plenty of love in our beliefs (fun fact: ‘Jesus replaced the Torah with the concept of love’ was an actual line from my high school Religious Studies textbook). 

If his arc involves a change in his understanding of anything remotely spiritual, such as death or why there are good and evil in the world, I would recommend doing research to ensure that that change is in line with his culture and religion. Christian ideas about these matters are so ubiquitous that it’s easy to think you’ve written from a neutral standpoint, when actually whoops – your character has found Jesus.

Good luck with your story 😊

-Shoshi

[vicious-vixxxen]

Mermaid!Kirishima X Male Reader

((Lost the original ask who prompted this, but here’s a little Mermaid!Kirishima to start the prompts off here! Thank you again for being the first to send in an ask, I appreciate it so much! And such a fun and interesting one to kick things off with, so manly! <3))

You’d almost fallen asleep. Again. Jesus Christ. Groaning, you stretched your limbs out as far as they’d reach- stifling a cry as your joints popped, and you became a puddle against the wooden dock you were laid across. The soft plap-plap of the waves beneath you very nearly lulling you under once again. Opening your eyes finally, you raised your arm to block out the harsh mid afternoon rays, and to check your watch for the time. Nearly four. He was late. “Where the hell are you, sharkboy,” You grumbled, sitting up, and stretching your arms out for a second time, stretching them for all they were worth, before slumping over and scrubbing at your tired eyes. Wincing slightly at the soft burn of your palms against your cheeks. Fuck. No sunblock. Of course. You’d be confused with a lobster by the time you went home and scooped up in a net for dinner if you didn’t apply any. Chancing a glance around the open ocean around you, spotting hues of blue after hues of blue- but no red- you sighed, tugging off your sweat soaked tank top- shoving it into your bag with the rest of your things, before retrieving your sunblock, and squirting a liberal amount into the palm of your hand. Slapping them together afterwards to smear it around, before hiking a leg up to begin applying it. The soft scent of coconut filled the air around the dock, and mixed with the salty scent of the seafoam below the dock, it reminded you of Kirishima. How enamored he’d been the first time he spotted you out here, doing just as you were now. The scent, the sight. Long tanned legs, short board shorts, no top. He’d been drooling, it was a whole adorable thing. Of course, you absolutely flipped your shit the first time you saw him. He wasn’t exactly the most subtle creature to catch a glimpse of, especially when he reared up to apologize- fins fanning out, causing you to nearly have a heart attack. You knew of mer-people, of course, but no one had seen any in these parts in decades. You certainly hadn’t. Not in your lifetime. First time for anything, though, you supposed. He’d wandered too far from his pod, and gotten curious of the handsome human male spread out like a buffet on the docks. If there was one thing to be said about Eijiro, it was that he was too curious for his own damn good. Something that both endeared you, and frustrated the fuck out of you. You hardly noticed, so caught up in your thoughts of the creature, the sound of the water breaking- the soft creak of the dock straining beneath the merman's grip as he hoisted himself up quietly, laying flat on his stomach just a few feet away. Eyes wide as saucers, red irises glinting mischievously as he tried to stick to his plan. Thwarted only by all the bare expanse of skin you were showing off. Tan, and soft looking. Soft to the touch, too, Kirishima thought suddenly, mouth too full of saliva as he recalled the feel of your skin beneath his webbed fingers. Shaking himself from his awed stupor, Kirishina grinned- all sharp teeth, as he shimmied across the dock, long tail swishing excitedly beneath the water, where it hung low from the dock. Already aware of his tardiness, Kirishima wasted no time lunging for you when he was close enough- laughing boisterously as you shrieked, and began swatting blindly at him. “You asshole! How many times have I told you /NOT/ to do that?” Y/N Shouted, initial panic already seeping away, as he was rolled over beneath Kirishima- the merman's soggy red spikes haloed by the sun’s rays, making him look….positively angelic. The fucking heathen. “You’re an absolute menace to both land and sea society Kirishima- no, no don’t fucking kiss me, I’m mad at you. Take your fishy kisses somewhere else, they will not be accepted here!” Y/N continued to shout, laughing suddenly as Kirishima nuzzled and raked his teeth along the soft expanse of your neck, webbed fingers digging just this side of rough into your sides, to elicit a fit from you. “L-Lemme g-go you smelly s-sardine! Ah-ahah! S-shit, i’m gonna p-piss myself if you don’t-ah!- stop! Kiri, please, mercy, mercy!” You cried, tears in your eyes as Eijiro wrapped your legs around his broad hips- shifting his scales downwards, as to not scrape you. Cradling you in his arms, his elbows against the dock, to shift you both upwards just a bit. Toothy grin as bright as ever as he gave in, and finally looked at you. Kirishima swore he could look at you forever. Your bright, twinkling E/C eyes, the soft, sun bleached tips of your hair. The curve of your nose. The curve of your /lips/. Especially the curve of your lips. “You can’t just show up late and expect me to be all hugs and kisses, that’s not fair,” You pouted, despite the smile you couldn’t help forming on your face. Ankles hooked just at the small of Kirishima’s back, where waist met scales. One hand splayed across the creatures back, the other finding its way deep in the crop of damp hair atop his head. Fingernails digging gently into the base, in that sweet spot that always had Kiri mewling if you scratched long enough. “Mm, i’m sorry, baby shark,” Kiri cooed, snickering at the eye roll he could practically sense, as he dipped his face back down against your neck, and kissed. “-It was my turn to lead the roundup for dinner. You know how long it takes to completely swarm a school of flounder? Little bastards shoot off in different directions. So yummy,” he paused, nipping at your earlobe, causing you to tense, “-but so difficult to catch. Like, but also kind of unlike, another little fish I know.” “A man of a thousand sweet talks.” You were already putty in the merman's hands, and you both knew it. Didn’t mean you had to advertise it. “I am sorry, baby shark. I tried to hurry, but you know how Denki can be. He gets a little zapped if he exerts himself too much on the hunt. We all gotta get him back to the cove in one piece after that, and he’s such a squirmer, so...ya know,” Kirishima shrugged, arms tightening just barely around your middle, as he leaned back, smile less predatory, and more sincere now, as he pressed your foreheads together gently. “Apology accepted...I guess,” You mumbled finally, breaking the creature's gaze, only to flick your gaze down to his plump, bitten lips. One drop of saltwater still clinging to his cupid's bow. “I missed you, dude,” Kiri whispered finally, blush painting his pale face, as he pressed chaste kisses to your cheeks, and chin. Peppering them all over afterwards as you began to giggle. “Missed you too,” You sighed, closing your eyes, and angling your head to catch Kirishima’s lips in a soft kiss. Just a press of them together, no real urgency. You had the rest of the evening, and long after sunset to spend together. There’d be plenty of time for rough, heated kisses below the docks. When you lost your trunks, and Kiri started losing control of the sharpness of his scales. Leaving small pricks and scrapes over your inner thighs, from how you’d going to his hips. Only to have the merman lay you out on the dock under the stars, and kiss them all better. Webbed hands spread wide over your stomach, your hips. Trailing down your thighs, up, and around… “Whoa now,” Kirishima whistled, pulling back to glance down between you, and you huffed. “Don’t get cocky, asshole. I haven’t seen you in almost a week, give me a break.” Hooking your chin over the merman's shoulder, you rolled your eyes once more at Kirishima’s little giggles. Mesmerized by the expanse of muscle in his back. Gaze trailing down between Kirishima’s shoulder blades. Down the small of his back, where his hips dipped first inwards, then back out. Hips filling out below his scales, bright red at the tips, and a deep obsidian at the base, where they met his flesh. Similar to the hair atop his head. Unhooking one of your feet, you ran your toes down along the soft, slippery surface of his tail, as far as you could go, before bringing it back up. Noting the shiver down Kirishima’s spine, and grinning. “Never gets old, does it?” “No, nope. Absolutely not. You make my tail feel like it’s gonna shake right off,” Kirishima groaned, planting his plans on either side of you now, caging you in as you rested back against the dock. “Should probably get that checked out by a doctor.” “Asshole.” “See if I give you the gummy worms in my backpack now.” “....did I mention how much I love you yet?” “That’s what I thought, seaweed brain.” You laughed, flinching back with a frown as Kirishima nipped at the air in front of your face playfully- reaching back for your brag, to draw out the large bag of gummy worms you’d already opened, when waiting for the merman to arrive. Grabbing one out of the pack, and holding it up between two fingers for Kirishima to slurp up. Humming contentedly as he chewed, and you simply smiled. “Love you,” You whispered, feeding him another- watching as he slowed in his chewing, before gulping audibly, and leaning down close. “Love you too. Beautiful boy.” ((Thank you again to the wonderful prompter who asked for this, I had a blast writing it!))

[mxvladdy]

THE WAY YOU FILLED YOUR FIRST REQUEST SHOOK ME?!?!?!? YOU BLESSED US!? Would you mind also imagining how Mammon, Luci and Belphie would feel with a MC who's guarded with themselves and their feelings to avoid hurt, so they try to keep these brothers at a friendly arm's length as they don't believe the brothers don't really care about them? It would make me so happy, thank you so much!

EEEEK! Sorry for the wait. It took forever and a day to get enough time to seat uninterrupted and then try to edit ;.;

I hope you like it! Apologies if I didn’t get the prompt just right!

Mammon

He didn’t hide his disdain for his human protection duty when you first met. The fact that you kept him at an arm's length was a devil’s blessing. Good! He is a busy demon after all, he doesn’t have time for some human. At first.

Then he caught the feels and it’s all downhill for him at his ‘cool devil’ act. Not that you ever NOTICED.

He tries to flirt with you. Before you, he thought he was good at it too.

He’s never had someone so civil with his advances. You smile and laugh politely at whatever complement he throws at you. You might even give him a few back in a teasing, but clearly friendly manner.

You stress it heavily whenever he comes on too heavy with his advances. You stamp down whatever feelings he evokes and try to keep your line clean and precise in the shifting sand of your relationship.

He takes you out one evening after school, determined to get an actual answer from you over some made up snack he lied about. You don’t think anything of it, happy for an excuse to hang out. You walk and talk, not taking notice of his steadily reddening face as he keeps making swipes at your hand each time it brushes his.

You make an off-handed (get it) remark about the closeness and offer to walk behind this was bothering him.

He is miffed and throws out all semblance of “coolness”. Just flat out confess. Face flaming hot from embarrassment and sweaty palms now shoved into his jacket.

It was a blink and you’d miss it kind of moment. Mammon’s cheeks start to heat gradually. A staunch look of panic growing behind his eyes.

The words just slip off his tongue. His lips forming a sentence you were dreading. You didn’t quite catch it all; his declaration lost in the wind of the open market. You try to catch his gaze, to make him repeat himself clearly, for what purpose you didn’t know. You don't particularly want to hear it again, yet it would give you time to compose some kind of response.

He refuses to look at you. No matter which way you bob and weave beneath him, he dances around you. His face always looking in the opposite direction of yours. His gaze permanently pointing at his feet. The uneven cobblestone beneath his scuffed boots was suddenly very interesting it seemed. "I'm sorry? I didn't catch that." You ask once more, grabbing on to the crook of his elbow.

He buries himself deeper into the flipped collar of his coat and whispers it again. "I-I like ya, ok? Like like like ya know?" He stumbles over his thoughts.

Now how in the hells were you supposed to dodge this? It had been easier to evade his blatant affections when even he wasn't admitting to them. "No, you don't." You step away with a dry chuckle. "Don't be silly." You back away shaking your head in denial. You were sure Mammon could feel your heart rate picking up. You need some space, more space than the street could give you. Somewhere away from your tall, sweet, white-haired problem.

"Oi!" He makes a grab for you as you turn to flee. He spins you around leaning down to meet with you face to face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We are friends Mammon," You try to wiggle out of his strong, yet gentle grip. "You're just mixing up the feelings." Bullshit. With him touching you, your joint pack acted like an amplifier. You very much felt what he thought of you. The yearning from his newfound mental clarity mixes with the panic of your rejection. It makes a bittersweet taste bloom in your mouth, so hopefully yet reserved.

He was not so lucky. Your feelings felt like ash on his tongue, a sour tang of fear and self-doubt building on his sense. You were afraid of the inevitable, or what you presumed to be the inevitable.

  You were supposed to be friends then disappear forever once the school year was up. Him, down here, and you back to being just another nameless soul in the human realm. No need to get the storyline all tangled. "Hey-hey," Mammon speaks in a rush. "It ain't like that, really." He coos shuffling you closer till you are wrapped tightly in his soft leather jacket. He pours more of himself into the pack, opening himself up in ways he never thought capable of from his demonic form.

"I'm stupid." You speak into his chest. The warm reassurance of his unspoken pledge soothing you. It lessens the tight feeling of uncertainty that you had grown accustomed to.

"Ah- now, ain't that supposed to be my job?" The taste in his mouth dissipates slightly as you let out an indignant huff. He flinches as you poke his side hard between his rib cage.

"Told you to stop talking down on yourself Mammon."

The demon hums noncommittally keeping you close. He rocks you both from side to side, oblivious to the throngs of other pedestrians forced to walk around you two. "Guess I forgot. Maybe you could remind me? O-on a date?"

He smiles down at the little sliver of your face and eyes peeking up from the darkness of his jacket. He could damn near feel the smile trying to break from your forced scowl. "Just one?"

"Heh- don't bet on it."

Lucifer

Welcome to the ultimate game of pleasantry chicken. The two of you know this dance by heart, but your footwork isn't synching up.

Lucifer is trying to keep this whole debacle as professional as possible. You are an esteemed guest and pact holder for all of his brothers and himself. This should be business as usual. He totally has his emotions and growing frustration at your lack of interest in him in check.

Yup. He's fine. He's great; glad you two have such an unspoken understanding of your standing in his company and in the house. The same book, same chapter, same bloody page.

You are a good friend. Just. A. Very. Good. Friend.

He breaks first. Not that he will admit it. But the weekly coffee breaks become a bi-daily thing as he tries to court you. He draws these evenings out now. Have you finished your schoolwork? No, allow me to tutor you. Perhaps you would like to listen to this new vinyl with me tonight? It is a complete demon rendition of Wagner's Die Meistersinger. A classic, you’ll love it.

You take it all in stride. Thanking him innocently enough and going along with it. You buffer every little turn of phrase and slightly off-color hint of what he wanted from you with grace. So tactfully done he begins to doubt himself. You couldn’t be misconstruing his intentions right? He hasn’t doubted himself like this in a long time.

Diavolo catches on quickly to the kicked puppy look Lucifer tots around in your presence. He’ll tease, but try to help. He’s a decent wingman truth be told. “How has Lucifer been treating you? I haven’t seen him this happy in ages. He is a great friend to have, yes?” Kinda backfires when you agree that he is indeed a good friend. Oops.

He’ll crack one night over a glass (or bottle) of something strong he pulled from his study. You had slipped into his room unannounced asking for a quiet place to read before bed.  The interruption to his musings leads to him running his mouth and pile driving his pride into the ground.

He can’t say no to you anymore. He really should. You were hell bent on keeping him at an arm's length, so he should too. Lucifer watches you like a hawk from behind his desk. His ungloved fingers swirling the dregs of his drink. The cognac inside of it looking up at him, his scowl reflecting in the rich red liquor. Don’t judge me. He scoffs at himself, was he that far gone that he was arguing with his glassware? Should have switched to the bottle hours ago.

“Luci?” You say again waving a hand in his face. “You forget to sleep again this week?” Your smile was warm, a little twinkle in your eye drawing a heat to his collar that had nothing to do with the spirits. You sit on the edge of his desk in your sleepwear. The baggy shirt and sweats reeked of his brothers.

“No.” He lies pushing his desk chair away. “Did you need something?”

You shrug hopping off the desk. “Not really. Wasn’t feeling movie night. You ok if I hang out here? It’s nice and quiet.” You slink off to the couch in front of the fire before he could answer.

“You could not do this in your room?” Lucifer snips. He tosses back the rest of his drink and rises to his feet. He grimaces at the burn spreading across his throat. “I’m sure it is quiet in there too.” He catches your eyes looking over the back of the lounge. While everything lower than the bridge of your nose was blocked by the black velvet he could feel the frown growing on your face.

“Well, yes. But I still want some friendly company. Just not rowdy company, I thought you wouldn’t mind...”  

Devils. There was that word again. "You assume to know me?" He cannot hide the venom lacing his words. The liquor had dulled his senses enough that he could not hide his rancor.

“I’m-” You leave the chair coming around it to give him your full attention. This wasn’t like him. Not anymore at least. But you were used to the odd mood swings that plagued your companions. "I don’t assume anything about you Luci. But if you want to talk-"

“I don’t want to have some idle friendly chit chat.” He could feel the tantrum coming. “Have I not proven myself capable of-” His jaw snaps shut with an audible click that echoes across the spacious chamber.

“Of?”

A noticeable blush grows on his pale cheeks. “More.” He sighs deeply, he feels light-headed at the admission. Whether it was from the drinks or from going against his nature and swallowing his pride he couldn’t tell. “Am I not enough to be more than a friend to you?”

That takes you by surprise. You had speculated that he harbored feelings for you. Diavolo all but cementing the idea in your mind. But, this was Lucifer. It felt like just yesterday you were at each other's throats, before he recognized you as something other than a threat to his family. You wanted to respect that little bit of trust he had given you. “It’s not like I never thought about it.”

“But?” He perks up slightly hearing the unspoken word in your inflection. He could see your apprehension yet there was a shimmer of something else underneath. Something he could work with.

“I was- I am scared.”

“Finally, a reasonable response from being around demons.” Lucifer snorts.

“Hey! You know that’s not what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.” He invades your space waiting to see what you would do. Run or stay. He would have his answer either way. You don’t move, instead, you wrap your arms around yourself. Guarding yourself yet standing firm. One of the many reasons why he admired you.

“I feel like we just became friends. I didn’t think you felt the same and I didn’t want to mess this all up.” You confess. “I just thought it would be easier this way.”

Lucifer absorbs your words quietly, nodding at the logic behind them. “Messes are not something I generally like true, but," He reaches for you, careful of your defensive stature to lead you back to the couch. “If you are willing to iron out the bumps with me I’d like to see what we can make of it.”

If it meant he could have you he would take as much time as you needed.

Belphegor

It takes him the longest to notice that you were trying to keep him at arm's length emotionally. It was hard for him to see at first since you still readily accepted his invitations to snuggle and hang out.

He thought he was very blatant with his desire for you and your affections. The head pats and evening is the planetarium or his attic.

The fact that he had apologized for that little murder mishap. He thought that was a big bright neon sign. Yet you always seemed to try to invite someone else along to chill or leave quickly after an hour or so. As much as he loved his twin and tolerated his other brothers he was trying to get you ALONE.

He starts trying to see you outside the house now too. Lunch in the cafeteria? Pffft. You are going to eat and nap with him in the courtyard. After School activities? Could you help him with some council stuff instead?

Yes, he will go out of his way to do work if you are involved.

You are still too closed off though. You act around him like you do around any of the other brothers and it drives him crazy. You are just so friendly and cordial with everyone. How come he is the only one that becomes a flushing mess now?

He becomes your second shadow, almost as bad as Mammon. You start to get an inkling of his intentions when he starts wanting to sleep in your bedroom at night instead of his or the attic. You let him but offer up the couch or split the bed with a pillow.

He snoops when he gets desperate. Did you like someone else? Was that why you were constantly acting like his advances were just him being overly friendly? He doesn’t find anything, you act like this around everyone else too.

He gives up. Stops interacting with you entirely. He is 99% sure he can sleep through the next century without being bothered. Maybe he’ll get over you by then.

“Belphie? You up here?” The demon in question opens a bleary eye to his locked door. He should stay quiet, leave you hanging. Give himself some vindictive pleasure in snubbing you.

“Hai~” He rises from his nest of blankets and pillows. “Hold on.” Unlocking the door he opens it ajar. You smile around the large stack of books and binders in your arms. “What is that?” Please don’t say homework.

“Work you’ve missed sulking up here.” You confirm his worst fear. “Satan and I thought we would spot you a bit though.” Belphegor watches you struggle for a second to pull a folded piece of paper out from the middle of the stack. “We got most of the answers done for you. Now you just have to fill the worksheets in with your handwriting.” You wave the paper expectantly.

Hearing his brother’s name makes him sour immediately. How long had you been hanging out with him now? “Thanks, leave them at the door then.” He goes to shut the door and return to his dreamless slumber but it’s blocked by your foot.

“Ouch.” You wince hopping back on one foot.

“Idiot! Are you hurt?” He wrenches the door open crouching down to take a look at your sock-covered foot.

“Nothing I can’t walk off. Though my arms are getting sore- weak human muscles an’ all.” You hint wiggling the stack in your arms. He takes the work this time, still eyeing your foot. “Relax, I’ve stubbed my toe with more force than that before.” You whisk by him, using his brief moment of distraction to slip by.

“Did I invite you in?” Belphegor eyes you with a frown. He kicks his door close and dumps the pile of papers on his already over-encumbered desk. Hmm. How many days had he missed?

You ignore him plopping down on the still warm sheets. “Nope!” You pop the ‘p’ with a grin. “But that has never stopped you from sneaking into my room. So fair trade all around.” You pat at the bed, clearing inviting him to join you. “Come on. I’ll help you finish that work then we can chill.”

Oh, now you want to hang out. He felt a rush of bitterness wash over him.  “Don’t you have something better to do?” If this keeps up he’ll need another nap, alone preferably. “Doesn’t Asmo need a shopping buddy or something?”

“What’s gotten you all worked up?” You frown, hurt by his accusatory tone.

Belphie shoots you a wounded look. "We never hang out anymore." He sulks. "Alone, I mean. I'm tired of you always inviting Beel or someone else with us."

He glances over to you idly thumbing at one of the books on his desk. It's frustrating. This game of touch and go he accidentally got himself into. Ugh- why did this have to be so hard. "I want to spend more time with you. Just us, so why are you always avoiding that?" 

"I.” You look down at your feet dangling off the side of his mattress. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I just felt like- like things were going off the rails between us.” You weren't oblivious to his advances.

He cocks his head in confusion. "Mmm? What are you afraid of?" You read a flicker in his eyes, a haunting memory of cruel fingers around your neck darken his gaze. "Ah-"

"No! No that's not it!" You panic waving your hands up. Of course, he would immediately go to that. "I'm just worried. I know you like me, and-just what if things don't work out? What if you realize what a mistake this could be?"

Your admission gives him pause. So you knew this whole time? Not surprising; he wouldn't fall for someone stupid. "So, are you admitting to liking me back?" He feels giddy when you nod, covering your heating face with your hands. " Well then, what’s the problem? It’s not a mistake if we both are making it.” He grins slyly. “How can it not work out if the feelings are mutual.”

“But what if you are mistaken?” He wraps you up into his arms, flopping you both over onto his messy bed. He takes one of your hands and places it on the top of his head all while burying his nose in your neck.

“Please,” He yawns, feeling his body grow heavy. “I don’t waste my energy on ‘mistakes’.”

[themusicplayedherlife]

Missy’s Lesson Plan

Lesson #1 Listen to Her Worries

pairing: marcus moreno x f!teacher!reader characters: f!reader, marcus word count: 3.6k+ warnings: fluff, awkwardness, bonding, summary: dating is hard; dating after losing a significant other is even harder, but Missy is sure she has a foolproof plan that will help her dad and her teacher finally confess their feelings and get the happily ever after that they deserve! a/n: sorry for the wait! since so many people liked it i wanted to make sure everything about this chapter was decent to post, so ya’ll have @forevans​ to thank or else this would’ve been stuck in limbo for a long time lol--also, im about to dub reader and marcus the thank-you-couple lmfao--you’ll see why

There are three things you are absolutely sure about in your life.

1. Your name. 2. You love your family. And 3. Missy Moreno is your favorite student.

“Turns out she was just testing us!” She moves around your classroom, picking up scraps of paper and throwing them into the black, durable trash bag she’s hauling around with her, recounting her heroic tale of saving her dad and the other Heroics with her new super powered friends. “A transfer of power or something. Can you believe it?”

Yes and no.

Your heart had literally jumped out of your throat and blood turned cold when Missy was plucked from school during recess—“taken somewhere safer,” the principal had informed you after you stormed into her office wanting to know where your student was and why you weren’t informed.

School was released an hour after that, a way to prepare citizens for the inevitable destruction the Heroics tend to cause in the heavily, populated metropolitan areas, and after making sure every single one of your students had been picked up by a family member, you hurriedly headed home.

You had sat yourself down in front of the television with your mom, worried for Mr. Moreno and the rest of the Heroics (more so for Missy’s dad), feeling completely and utterly helpless.

It only got worse when agents suited in black and white showed up at your doorstep, demanding to know where Missy Moreno and the other super powered children were hiding.

“You lost them?” You had balked—your worry rising to new heights—first Mr. Moreno and now Missy? You didn’t know what to do other than demand how a bunch of agents could have lost a group of untrained children during an alien invasion!

None of them answered you, remaining stoic, and if it weren’t for your mom, you would’ve pounced and clawed the closest agent out of desperation.

The agents only left after turning your house upside down in their search for the children.

And then, after hours of waiting, the news showed the Heroics, Anita Moreno, and the children landing in front of the White House, safe and sound. You almost cried from relief in your mother’s arms.

So, no, you can’t believe it; but seeing her here, this special girl, that has somehow worked her way into your heart from the moment she walked into your life, safe and sound in your classroom, you do believe it.

But you can’t tell Missy all of that when she’s practically bouncing on the heels of her feet, beaming up at you every few seconds to watch your reactions to her story. Instead, you widen your eyes for good measure and your mouth hangs open. It’s a little exaggerated, but you really are impressed with Missy—very much worried, but impressed. “Woah! I’m so proud of you!”

Her grin is so bright and proud, it makes you chuckle under your breath, your shoulders finally relaxing at the rare, childlike mirth dancing in her eyes.

“Are you going to write about it for your report?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

Now that stops you from sorting through the craft supplies, eyebrow raising in surprise. “Maybe?”

“It’s stupid,” she murmurs, focusing a little too much on one area.

“Missy,” you start, patient, “why do you think it’s stupid?”

“It’s just—” she shuffles on her feet and then sighs heavily, looking up at you with dark eyes full of doubt—“what if no one believes me?”

It takes you no time to close the distance between you. You coax the bag out of her hands and set it down on the floor, motioning for her to sit at the desk she had just been pretending to clean. “Why do you think no one would believe you?”

“Because I don’t have super powers.” Her nose wrinkles, looking away from you and to the whiteboard.

“Missy…”

“I know, I know!” she exasperates, having heard this spiel from you many times before. “It doesn’t matter, it’s never mattered, I get it!” You stare at her incredulously, and she is quick to assure you, leaning forward on the edge of the chair. “I do, really! But I—it would be useful, you know?” She slumps back, finger rubbing at a spot on the table. “Proof, I guess.”

“Powers could always be useful,” you agree with a soft laugh. “But not always necessary.” She still doesn’t look at you, and you sigh softly, a small amused smile forming on your lips. “I know you know some of the most amazing, most brave people are the ones without powers.”

She looks up at you, head tilting and waiting for you to elaborate.

“You once told me that aside from your dad, your mom was your absolute favorite hero, remember that?”

She nods, a smile finally appearing on her cherubic face.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Missy.” You crouch down to her level. “You not having powers doesn’t mean the rest of the class won’t believe you. They know you’re a leader, they look to you not just because you’re Marcus Moreno’s kid but because they believe in you.”

“I knew it was stupid,” she murmurs bashfully, tanned skin brightening as she huffs and folds her arms over her chest.

“Hey, no, none of that. Having doubts or being scared or even jealous is never stupid. It’s perfectly human,” you assure her, her brown eyes searching yours. “In fact, I sometimes feel that way too!”

“Really?” She drops her arms and her pout softens. “You?”

“Of course! Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes doubt myself or feel a little insecure.”

“Like what?” she asks, dark eyes curious and wide.

“Oof, a lot!” Your eyes roll to the ceiling as you think. “I think… one of my biggest doubts and fears is not being a good enough teacher.”

“What?” She gasps, jumping in her seat and eyes narrowing with scary determination to get you to believe that: “You’re an amazing teacher!”

Warmth fills your chest at the sincerity in her voice and eyes. “See!” You cross your arms over your knees, but Missy takes your hand in hers, and you let her, squeezing her smaller hand in yours. “Sometimes, we don’t see ourselves in the same light as others do, and that’s okay. We just need a little reminder every once in a while.”

“Yeah,” she drawls, playing with one of your fingers, “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.” You nudge her nose gently with a hooked finger and she wrinkles her nose in response. “And this is my reminder for you today: I truly believe you’re capable of doing extraordinary things, Missy. Powers or no powers.”

She grins, nudging your nose just as you had. “And I truly believe you’re the most amazing teacher ever.”

Yeah. Missy Moreno is definitely your favorite student.

“I know.” You ruffle her hair and she grabs your wrist to push you away, laughing.

A loud thud by the entrance of the class brings you to your feet, spinning in place and firmly placing yourself in front of Missy and the sudden intruder—only to find a sheepish Marcus Moreno mid trip and hand raised sheepishly.

“I—ah—sorry, I was going to knock, but the door was opened—” he says, quickly crouching down to pick up the empty rack you set up for the kids to place their backpacks and lunch on. “Sorry.”

Missy lets out an exasperated, “Dad!” while your form relaxes (replaced by a new tension squeezing your chest).

Clearing his throat, he straightens up, raising a hand in greeting and an apology. “Sorry,” he murmurs again.

“It’s fine, Mr. Moreno.” You offer him a warm smile, ignoring the little butterflies in your tummy. Turning to Missy, you catch a very much exasperated eye roll that only makes you stifle your laughter behind your hand. “Come on, Missy, get your things.”

She eyes her dad for a moment longer before nodding and hurrying to her table shared with Karina at the front of the classroom, a table away from your desk.

“Thanks for letting Missy stay.” He scratches the back of his head, his other hand resting on his hip as he shifts his weight. “Paperwork took me longer than I would have liked.”

“A hero’s work is never done, huh?” you joke, keeping your voice light.

He cracks a charming smile, the one that always seems to melt your insides into a pile of goo. “Unfortunately.”

Your eyes move to Missy, who is slowly putting her things away, organizing them and reorganizing. Her head tilts slightly when the conversation between you and Marcus pauses, dark eyes trying to inconspicuously look over her shoulder to get a glimpse of you and her father. Her eyes catch yours and widen in surprise before she snaps her head forward, pretending to be busy but not hurrying her movements, either—much to your amusement. What is she doing?

Shaking your head and returning your gaze to Marcus, you’re met by brown eyes full of exasperated fondness, an apologetic smile on his handsome features.

“I heard about what happened,” he suddenly says. “About some of our agents raiding your home.”

“Oh!” You blink owlishly, embarrassment crawling under your skin—what else did he know? “You heard about that?”

“Read about it in the report, actually.” He tilts his head, scratching the stubble on his cheek, and you press your lips together to keep from questioning what else he read in case they didn’t add the part about you losing your cool. “I have agents on their way to help clean up any mess they might’ve made and to replace anything they might’ve broken.”

This man is truly a god sent, isn’t he? “Mr. Moreno, I appreciate it, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he assures you, firm and kind. “It’s our fault you got caught in the cross hairs.” His eyes fall away from yours, and again, he shifts his weight on his feet as he pushes his glasses back up over the bridge of his nose.

You wait for a moment, but when he doesn’t look back up at you, you let out a little defeated sigh, disappointed that the conversation is over. Not that you want to keep talking about agents ruining your home, but you like listening to Mr. Moreno speak. He has the softest, most reassuring voice that makes you feel safe in his presence; like he trusts you.

“Well, again, thank you,” you start as you make your way over to the plastic bin full of craft supplies on your desk and are about to take them to the closet you store them in when warm fingers brush against yours, taking the box from your hands. “Oh!”

“Let me help you with that,” he says, soft and rich, warm eyes full of kindness staring into yours.

“Thank you,” you murmur—and he’s close, not like when he was sitting across from you as you introduced yourself to him and showed him the first progress report of the year, but close enough that you can see the glints of black and umber in his eyes, tips of his shoes barely touching yours, and a small box keeping your chests from brushing against each other.

“It’s no trouble. Least I could do.” He flashes another smile, and again, your heart melts and you have to physically keep yourself from biting your lips by swiping your twitching fingers over your mouth, eyes darting away from him.

Clearing your throat, you say, “Let me show you where I need them.”

He nods and follows after you, keeping a fair distance even after you point at the empty space the bin was in earlier that day.

“Thank you,” you say—again! all you do is thank the man!—as he puts away the bin and closes the closet doors for you.

“Of course.”

“Okay, I’m finally ready!” Missy announces, a little too loud for it to not to be intentional.

“We should start heading out, then.” His hand settles on Missy’s head, steering her towards the door. “Again, thank you for letting Missy stay—really saved me.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You wave him away, following after them to walk them out.

“That was painful to watch,” you swear you hear her whisper to her dad, and he shushes her.

Did you imagine it?

“Ah, actually, Mr. Moreno, may I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course!” He pats Missy’s shoulder. “Go on ahead, I’ll meet you down the hall.”

She narrows her eyes at him, as if trying to communicate something to him before nodding and walking off. “See you Monday, teach!”

“Bye, Missy! Have a good weekend!” You wait until she’s completely out of ear shot, or at least on the other side of the hall to address your worries to Mr. Moreno. “Missy told me about what happened on that spaceship and I—I’m worried. I know what Missy is capable of, trust me, I know. She’s—extraordinary. A good kid.” You bite your lip, wrapping your cardigan tighter around your frame, the cold wind brushing against your exposed skin. “But I—I can’t help but worry either way. I know it’s not my place—”

“No, no!” He steps forward and a little to the side, blocking the wind from hitting you. “Thank you for caring so much about Missy. I—I always feel grateful knowing you care about her and that she’s in capable hands at school.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, a huge weight off your shoulder now that you know you’re not stepping on his toes.

“I’m worried too, if I’m being honest.” His eyes slide to Missy waiting for him at the end of the hall where she’s rocking on her feet, and you follow his gaze, both of you smiling when she glances up and waves. “She’s headstrong. Once her mind is made up, you can’t stop her.” He chuckles, the sound low and a little self-deprecating.

“I would never ask you to change her mind,” you affirm gently. “All I ask, is that you look after her—not that you don’t already do, because I know you do, but it’s… different out there.”

He nods resolutely. “I promise.”

“You need to stay safe out there, too, Mr. Moreno. I can’t keep having two heart attacks in one day,” you tease, leaning against the metal doorframe.

“I promise you, we’ll stay safe,” he says it so seriously, eyes locked on yours that it practically steals your breath away. “Missy and I—we’ll protect each other.”

“Like you always do,” you hum into the space between you.

“Like we always do,” he reaffirms, just as soft.

“Good.” You stare at one another for a beat longer than necessary, but you look away first, straightening up. “Have a good evening, Mr. Moreno. Drive safe.”

“You too.”

You watch him walk away, waving each time he looks back until he reaches Missy. They wrap an arm around each other and with one final wave, they disappear into the stairwell.

Smiling, you head back inside to get your things.

“So,” Missy starts as they climb down the stairs, “did you ask?”

“No.” He sighs, bracing himself for the ten year old judgement (he can’t wait to see what her pre-teen and teenage judgement looks like, probably even more brutal).

“What?” She pulls away from him as they reach the final step. “No? What do you mean ‘no’? That was the perfect timing!”

He knows it was perfect timing! There were many perfect moments that he could’ve asked if you were doing anything this Saturday, but no! He just had to get distracted by the curves of your lashes and the way your eyes glinted under the setting sun and how your nose wrinkled when the cold air kissed your nose and—“Next time.”

“A deal is a deal, dad!” She reminds him, staring up at him with those eyes that used to remind him so much of her mother, but now they’re becoming less and less like hers and more her own. “You said you would!”

“I know, I know,” he whines in mock defeat. “I just… what if she doesn’t like me?” It’s a legitimate worry, one that has only grown since Missy started encouraging him to ask you out.

“Seriously, dad?” Her hand connects with her forehead. “It’s so obvious! And besides, how will you ever know if you don’t ask?”

“I guess you’re right. Any ideas?”

She cups her chin, thinking. Her eyes brighten. “I do have a plan!”

“And what exactly is this plan?” he asks, a little wary of what his precocious ten year old could possibly come up with.

“Just trust me!” She grins up at him and wraps her arm around his waist, tugging him along with her towards the car. “With my plan we’ll win her over completely!”

[kasdeyalilith]

*this is my first time writing a fanfic I hope you lot will like it and English is not my first language but I worked hard for it to be readable enough. I made this fic cause Scaramouche is living in my head rent-free and I crave for any Scaramouche oneshots or fics so I made one. Hope you enjoy.*

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I woke up thinking it'll be just a regular day of school. The day started like how it started for days before, I go to school then go to my work after. The walk from my school to the restaurant I work at is a silent one, if only I glanced at my right I'll see the news on the tv showcased at one of the windows of the store. I had my earphones on blasting a somber music as I walk and count all the assignments I'll do later when someone bumped into me harshly, I looked up instinctively but he ran away before I can utter something. It's like something snapped and pulled me into one big mess cause after that everything was a blur of running and screaming.

Zombies.Effing zombies are real and they're gonna have me as their food. I closed my eyes thinking that all my life have led to this point, where I'll be eaten by zombies and turn into one but seconds passed and I haven't felt any single bite so I slowly opened my eyes and saw a boy around my age with indigo hair and blue eyes. I scolded myself because it's not the good time to appreciate someone's eyes or looks right now while the whole city is being infested with zombies.

"Oi fucker what you looking at? Stand your ass up and stop staring like a stupid shit. Seriously if I didn't save you you'll be a fucking zombie. Now move we don't have all day"

I responded with a small yes but I think it went off as a pathetic grunt. The boy tsked and ran off while I followed suit since I didn't know what to do with all the chaos happening. We arrived at a small building, it looks like a store for school supplies or something. The space held a few group of people, some I recognize from school while others are strange faces to me. Right, I have to contact my friends to see if they're alright and my aunt! She lives in a different country, what if they're also infected? She must be so scared right now. (I followed the cliche of y/n not having parents or siblings cause ehe).

I took my phone out quickly and dialed her number, I didn't notice that I'm shaking until I saw how my phone shakes while I wait for her to answer. After a few minutes of dialing her for the 5th time my phone went dead. I cursed inside for being stupid and not charging it earlier. How can I contact her now? I looked around hoping to borrow someone's phone but I saw them already on the act of barricading every exit and entrance of the store. I jumped up and volunteered to do the same as to not be a burden, I'll call my aunt later maybe she's safe and didn't have her phone. Yeah that must be it.

"Good thing your dumb ass decided to help"

"I'm sorry?" I looked at the same boy earlier, if only he didn't save me I would've bonked his head hard. "Oh it's you, I didn't get the chance to thank you for helping me"

"Yeah remind me to not waste my energy on stupid beings like you. Who's dumb enough to let a zombie bite them?"

"It's called being human and getting scared" I glared at him

"Sure, whatever you say. I'm regretting saving you, seems like you'll be a burden to us"

"Then you should've just let me be bitten"

He just glared at me and walked away towards a ginger haired guy and..Prof. Zhongli?? He's one of the nicest professor at the university so I'm happy he's safe. I just hope that my friends have the same fate. That leads me back to that grumpy gremlin, sure he saved me and all but he's rude beyond words. I admit, I'm the one at wrong here but still can't he filter his words? If only we're in a different situation I'm gonna give that shortie a good shouting but for now I focused all my anger on making sure none of the zombies can get through and to scout for any device that can help protect me. I went and talk to the other people inside, I immediately befriended Venti, Sucrose, Albedo, Jean, Barbara, Lisa, and Xiao. The latter just nodded at my way but I consider that as a friendly greeting since he's always silent and glaring, in a kind way unlike that short stack over there who still glares at my back without me knowing.

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"I don't know why you're being rude to her. You went back and saved her after all. Who knew the great Scaramouche will abandon a safe place just to save someone?"

"Shut it Tartaglia, you know no shit. She just looks stupid in the street that's why I saved her and it's the worst decision I've ever done"

"Sure and she's not the girlie you've liked since highschool. Don't deny all the glances I saw back then. We all know you're not gonna save someone unless..."

Childe wiggles his eyebrows to support his accusations but all he gets is a harsh glare and a promise to feed him to the zombies later.

"Ah you wound me balladeer, good thing I'm with Zhongli" Childe linked his arms with the said gentleman

"That's enough teasing love, we should gather everyone and talk about what we'll do from here on. It'll be more dangerous for us if we stick in the city any longer"

"Ah always the mature one, you make me love you more"

"Fucking shit, go do that love shit away from me and for the record you're the immature one in the relationship your name clearly says so"

"Hmph you're just one bitter hat loving shortie"

"What did you say you shit? I'll really fucking push you over those shitards out there"

"That's quite enough from the both of you. You'll gather the attention of those zombies and endanger our place. Now let's go and formulate a plan with the others"

Scaramouche stayed behind, plotting the demise of the ginger head boy. He looked at you for the first time after your last exchange of words with him. He cringed at how it turned out, he only wanted to ask if you're ok since he saw you shaking while clutching your phone but he worded his concerns poorly and now you're angry at him. The fuck he cares about your feelings, yeah that's right he should be only focusing on his safety and on how to get out of this mess. If he should follow this shit group just to survive he will. That's all that matters to him, use anyone or anything to survive this hellhole. Then why does his eyes stares back at your form hunched over making a makeshift weapon and all his blood rushes to his face. He must be having a fever. That's it. That must be the only reason.