#I just want to think about the same stuff everyday with no responsibilities

[jencsi]

I keep going back to the same recycled complaint, but the toughest part about liking a piece of media that doesn't offer new content anymore, is trying to make new out of old. The quality and quantity of my "creative" writing over the last year to year and a half has declined severely. I feel as if I have already written everything that can be said about Finn and her life, past, present and future, and the various relationships she has with people. I'll start typing up a document and I have to stop because I've already covered that topic or written a similar scene in a previous fic or I just lose steam and (dare I say, get bored?) of doing what I've already done? It makes me feel like an imposter. I adore this character. I'm lucky to have taken it as far as I have, but I feel like I lose more and more of her, and in a sense, myself, with each passing day I fail to keep her alive, because no matter how hard I try to will it to existence, at the end of the day, she's just a character someone else made for a show. And maybe the reason I feel perpetually stuck in my own life is because I can't move on from her, I feel like I need to constantly be breathing life into her, lest anyone forget she existed and that feels like a metaphor for my own life. If I don't scream myself into existence, forcing people to hear me, then I just become some rotting blob of nothing. And then I get the mixed voices of "its just a dumb show, no one cares!" "But it's a serotonin boost!" "Just move on already!" "But what else do I have besides going to work and slowly rotting if I don't have a hyperfixation?" You could be so much more if you just dropped this fandom stuff and pursued something worthwhile" "But this is all I know!" Things are too expensive! The world is dying!" It's just a show!" After living this way for so long, it's exhausting. And this isn't just a Finn-centric thing, I did this with other fictional characters too. It should be fun, it should be a hobby, it should bring joy, and it has, I have met amazing people because of this very specific shared mutual interest, but somehow, I can't shake this stupid feeling of failure. Is this projection? Some unnamed mental illness? A coping mechanism? Escapism? All of the above? Why am I like this?

[flemingsfreckles]

Physio’s Daughter pt.2

Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader

Preview: read Part 1, you continue to work with the Canadian team and your partnership with Jessie develops

Warning: some cursing I think, very very very minimal suggestion to sex

WC: 3.8k

A/N: this might be my new favorite story I’m writing (sorry all you Better Boyfriend fans)

The next week had gone by in a flash. Mark had called you, telling you the same things that your mom already had. He wanted to extend an offer to you to join the team, working as a student, for the summer and through the Olympics. He also mentioned that Jessie had spoken highly of you directly to him. Knowing how impressive having experience working for Team Canada would look to future jobs, you couldn’t turn down the offer.

Upon accepting you had started working everyday at the training facility, sometimes carpooling with your mom, picking her up from your childhood home and other days she would swing by your apartment and pick you up. Other days when she would have meetings or individual appointments you weren’t invited to, you’d drive separately.

On your first day Mark had sat you down in his office and asked you about your experience and what you were hoping to gain from your summer. You told him the more you could do the better, whatever he thought would be the best.

You honestly didn’t care too much about the jobs they gave you, as a student you expected to do the simple, more mundane work, making ice bags, organizing closets, restocking first aid kits. You expected to be more of an observer, stepping in only if extra hands were needed.

However much to your surprise, Mark had decided the opposite for you. After your meeting he had asked you to sit tight as he walked out and into the dressing room. He came back with a half dressed captain, Jessie only wearing her training shorts and actively throwing on a sweatshirt as she followed Mark back into the office.

“Oh, you’re back!” Jessie exclaimed when saw you sitting in Mark's office.

“She is.” Before you can answer for yourself Mark steps in. “And I want you two to work together. For one, Jessie we need to have your calf back to 100% before Paris, on top of that as captain, you need to be in the loop as far as what is going on with your teammates. That’s where you two are going to mingle.” His finger points between you and Jessie before he turns his attention to you.

“I want you to be fully responsible for working with Jessie on her calf. I think that will be a better use of your time, instead of throwing you 50 small tasks, take on one large one, do it right. Obviously if you need guidance, the rest of the team is here but I want you to take as much of the lead on it as possible.”

“Understood, I can do that.”

He turns to face Jessie. “Assuming you’re okay with that? You know your own body, if you have concerns or questions about her treatment plan, ask. She’s a student, we don’t expect her to be perfect, you’ll help her. I’m not making you a Guinea pig, you’re not a test subject, more of a learning experience. I mean that in the best way possible.”

“Of course, I feel good about that.” You feel relieved as Jessie agrees to his plan, you hadn’t had much time for the nerves around the responsibility of this job to build up too much but there were some doubts starting.

“As far as the stuff beyond your calf. I want Jessie to get updates on teammate’s, not details but just general ideas of who’s having more fatigue, who needs to be watched, any of those things that as captain she should know, you need to be informing her.” He’s now back looking at you.

“Yes sir, I can do that.”

“Perfect, then you’re both free to go.” He claps his hands together and then motions toward the door.

Jessie is the first one out, she holds the door open for you as you follow her into the main physio room. The rest of the room is empty, today was just a film and media day, most of the players not coming in for any treatments. The physio staff had found themselves elsewhere in the building. Behind you, your boss leaves his office, locking the door before tossing a pair of keys in your direction. He tells you it’s they keys to get in the building and the master key for anything in the training room, in the event you’re here before anyone else. You thank him and watch as he leaves, leaving you and Jessie alone.

You watch as Jessie wanders over to one of the tables, turning and with what seems like ease, pushing herself up and onto the table with her arms. She flops back laying fully down on the table and you can’t help but notice when she puts her arms behind her head her sweatshirt rides up, exposing the lower bit of her abdomen. Catching yourself staring for a second too long you turn away and walk over to the end of the table where her head was.

She has her eyes closed, hands resting behind her head, she looks peaceful. She must have been able to hear you move by her, she opens one eye, looking in your direction.

“Somehow, media day tires me out more than anything.” She goes back to having both eyes closed.

“Because you hate it.” You answer, you’re not sure if she was even asking for a reason but the silence felt uncomfortable and you wanted to fill it. Her eyes both open and she turns her head to look at you. Her eyebrows are pinched slightly as if she’s confused by your statement.

“You hate being in front of the camera right? You probably work yourself up over it, whether you know it or not. It’s probably more stressful on you mentally than playing is.”

“Wow no one told me you were going to school to be an emotional therapist too.” You can practically feel sarcasm dripping off her sentence. She rolls her eyes at you and for a second you feel like an idiot, she obviously knew she hated being in front of the camera, you didn’t need to tell her.

Jessie moves to flip over, propping her head up on her hands. Her smile is big across her face. She reaches an arm out and swats at you, hitting just above your thigh that was at her eye level as you stood at the end of the bed.

“I’m joking, loosen up. If you stay this nervous all summer you’re going to hate it here.”

You knew she was right, being uptight was not going to make anything easier or any part of coming to work fun. But knowing she was right and actually trying to lessen your nerves were two different things.

It took time but by the end of your second week you were feeling more comfortable, slightly confident in the choices you were making, you felt familiar with the staff and all the players, it was becoming more fun.

You and Jessie had fallen into an easy routine. You’d both get to the training facility earlier than everyone, you’d both sit down in your makeshift office and go through paperwork. You’d take the time to run her through each of her teammates, giving her the information that Mark had requested she get as captain. Sometimes there were only a handful of updates to give her and the two of you would end up sitting around chatting.

When her teammates began to arrive you’d make your way into the training room, Jessie would get changed and come back to start treatment on her leg. You’d run her through exercises, stretches, regimes for icing, all the necessary recovery steps for her leg. You’d still run around, occasionally helping the rest of the players, taping, rolling, massaging, but you always came back to check on Jessie. You didn’t think much of it, the time you were spending together, if anything it was more of a requirement for the two of you to spend time together, not a choice.

During training Jessie would check in during water breaks, you weren’t sure that was required but she always found her way over to you, chatting for a minute, usually starting with an update on how she was playing but sometimes just telling you other information, what she had for dinner, the color of the puppy she saw on her way in, small details about her life, before she’d have to go back out.

The more you talked with her the more your silly little young school girl crush came back. Only by this time it was full force attraction, more than just a crush. You were confused how everyone who talked with her wasn’t in love with her. She was kind. It was a simple way to describe her and definitely didn’t do her justice but she was, at the end of the day she was kind and good natured and it drove you crazy.

She was always quick to help you find something in the training room, quick to offer you an extra jacket if she saw you were cold watching training, first one to offer to carry any equipment to and from the field. It was her small gestures that stood out so much.

After training you had a similar routine, helping her, and other players with their recovery. Talking with Jessie about her calf, offering various treatment options to her and letting her guide you. You’d finish your treatment with her and unlike most players who would hurry out of the training room in a rush to get home, she’d stay around talking, offering to help clean or just sitting around. She’d stay until most of the staff had begun to go home and Mark would usually tell her to get out.

It wasn’t long before others took notice of the partnership the two of you had developed.

After a late night at the facility, your Mom began poking at the subject on the ride home.

“How’s it going with Jessie?”

“She’s good, calf is still giving her tightness but it’s less frequent than before, I think she’ll be playing full 90’ before the end of camp.” You think nothing of her question, assuming she’s asking about how her recovery is coming along given the Olympics were coming up quickly.

“She sure does hang around you a lot.” You start to hear the accusatory tone in her voice.

“She’s required to, Mark told both of us we have to work together.”

“I’m pretty sure staying late everyday, to do nothing but sit around with you, wasn’t in the requirements, or the extra chats during water breaks.” She looks over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Usually she’s giving me updates on her leg.” Defending her behavior to your Mom, it wasn’t really your fault Jessie came over to talk during practice.

“Don’t lie to me, you two were talking about the new pasta place down the road today.”

You don’t say anything back to her, just staring as she glances between the road and back to you.

“Look, I’m saying this as someone superior to you at work, I just think you need to be careful. This is a job, you’re responsible for her health. You can’t be messing around, she’s a coworker. You don’t want to appear unprofessional.”

As if her scolding wasn't enough, she adds, “As your mom, I have to say, she’s 4 years older than you. She’s as close to 30 as you are 18. You’re still a student, she has her career figured out, you’re only just starting yours. Not to mention it’s usually not a good idea to sleep with someone you work with, it makes things complicated.”

“Mom! I’m not sleeping with her.” Your voice is raised, and you feel your cheeks start to burn at your Mom’s suggestion. It’s a mix of anger and embarrassment, mainly from the fact that she would accuse you of sleeping with Jessie, that’s not fair to you or to her.

This is what you hated about working with your Mom, she would still be your Mom at the end of the day. You knew she kept a close eye on you, closer than Mark, closer than any of the other staff, she watched you like a hawk, all day everyday.

“There’s nothing going on.” You add, “She has no interest, it’s work for both of us.” You were thankful when your mom pulled into the driveway to your apartment complex.

“Just take a second to consider what other people might think. You don’t need to have a bad reputation this early in your career because of a fling.” The way she was talking to you felt like you were back in high school and she had caught you sneaking beers to take to a friend's house. It was a voice of concern mixed with a hint of disappointment.

“I already told you, nothing is happening. I don’t need a ride tomorrow, I can take myself.” You tell your mom as you exit the car, closing the door behind you a bit harder than you should.

When you get inside you let your bag hit the ground hard. Frustration from your mom’s comments is still running through your veins. You move to the kitchen, grabbing leftovers out of the fridge and throwing them in the microwave for a minute.

As you eat you think about work, you had to meet with Jessie tomorrow morning but you decide after that you were going to prove to your mom there was nothing going on. You were going to distance yourself, give Jessie the same treatment as everyone else.

That’s what you do, for the next few days you still meet with Jessie in the morning, giving her updates but kicking her out of the office once your professional talks are over. Jessie seemed a bit confused the first few days as you pulled away more and more from her but she never mentioned it to you. You’d finish her recovery treatments and then head into your office which was more of a closet made into a temporary office. You would claim you had paperwork to do and then end up just staring at the blank computer in front of you, wishing you could be having a mindless conversation with her about dogs or bikes or travel spots. Jessie had numerous stories from traveling with Chelsea that you loved hearing about, with every story she told you, you added a travel destination to your bucket list.

You kept up with distancing yourself, somewhat grateful that the international window was coming to a close while you still would have to go to work, Jessie wouldn’t be there forcing you to avoid her.

It was the second to last day of the international window and you were getting started on morning treatments before the friendly match the team had later that afternoon. You had given Jessie her heat pack, not sticking around to talk with her but moving over to where Janine was sitting on the table chatting with some of the other girls.

“Waiting to get your knee taped?” You ask, offering to do it for her.

“Yeah that would be great.” You move to grab tape and adhesive spray. You zone out of the conversations being had around you as you get to work, you’d see how Janine’s knee was taped everyday so it was an easy task to do but not completely a habit you had to use some focus.

“You’re only saying that Jess because it’s the most recent coffee you’ve had.” You zone back into the conversation hearing Janine mention Jessie.

“What about you?” Janine kicks her leg slightly, indicating she was talking to you.

“Sorry, what?” You hadn’t heard what the question was, too zoned out in your own thoughts.

“What’s your go-to coffee order?”

“Oh, usually a cold brew, sometimes I’ll add caramel or raspberry syrup, nothing too crazy.” You answer as you finish up taping her knee. “You’re all set.” You pat her knee and she hops up off the table, thanking you and heading out the door.

You turn and see Jessie putting away her heat pack, something you usually did for her. She gives you a glance, a blank expression on her face as she moves to grab the ball to roll out. As her teammates all filter out, it’s just you and Jessie left in the training room as the rest of the staff followed out to set up for the match. She hadn’t said much to you all day and something felt off, you attempted to make conversation with her.

“Are you looking forward to being back in Portland?”

“Yeah, sort of, I always miss the people here, Portland is all still so new, not quite home yet. Plus the training staff there isn’t nearly as fun, you won’t be-”

“Hey if you’re not doing anything besides chatting, come help set up.” Your Mom’s voice comes from across the room, her head stuck through the door.

Of course she walked in now, not when you were helping Beckie, not when you had been filling water bottles, not when you had been talking to Julia about ankle taping, not when you were having a friendly chat with Quinn, not when you were helping the other staff refill first aid kits. Of course she walked in when it was just you and Jessie, not helping her accusations from last week.

“Coming.” You turn away from Jessie and follow your mom out. As you follow down the hallway she looks back at you. She doesn’t say anything but her glare is enough to keep you from trying to defend what she saw.

The friendly was easy, no injuries, no issues, Canada taking the win 3-1. Jessie was able to get back into playing a full 90’ which while you tried not to show it, you felt proud of. You were proud of your own work, being able to get her back with your help but also proud of Jessie for working through her injury. Thankfully since she was playing the full 90’ there was no time for her to chat with you on the bench, much to your Mom’s relief. You had finished up the evening working with some of the team on stretching and helping them plan for their few weeks back at their club teams. It wasn’t difficult work but it had kept you late at the stadium, leading to a rough start to your next morning.

You were sitting at your desk early at 5am, head resting against your hands, you were exhausted, the game ending late last night, staying to finish up recovery and cleaning up took a toll on your sleep already. What also didn’t help was lying in bed thinking about Jessie. She had felt cold today, she didn’t come to talk to you during halftime, she didn’t ask for extra help during recovery like she normally did. You knew it was your fault, well your Mom’s fault for her comments, but you were the one who pulled back from her first. You felt bad, pulling away from her but it’s what seemed to be the right thing.

“Hey.” A knock on your door frame pulls you from your exhausted brain fog. You look up to see Jessie much to your surprise, you hadn’t planned any of the players to be in this morning. They only had to be in later for film and to wrap up the camp before everyone went back to their clubs for a few weeks before the Olympic period began.

“Can I?” She pointed to the chair she usually would sit in.

“Of course.” You gesture to the chair across from you and Jessie walks in, two coffees in her hands. She places them both on the table before sliding one across the desk to you.

“What’s this for?”

“You.” She takes a sip from her own coffee. You take a look at the handwriting on the cup, labeling your drink as a cold brew with raspberry. You look up at Jessie questioning how she got your order.

“You mentioned your coffee order to Janine yesterday.” She says with a shrug as if you had directly told her your order and she hadn’t been listening into your conversation.

“You didn’t have to get me a coffee Jessie.” You take a sip of it anyway, you weren’t one to turn down caffeine especially after a long night.

“Well it’s more of an excuse to talk to you. I wanted to see what’s been going on.”

“Nothing new really, especially going into the break, no new injuries or anything from last night so no real updates, everyone’s doing well-”

“That’s not what I meant.” She cuts you off. “Sorry to interrupt, it's just I meant why it feels like you’re hiding from me?”

“Oh. Um.” You spin the coffee cup between your hands, looking down at it. You didn’t want to have to explain to her that your Mom is concerned you have a crush.

“If I did something, I’m sorry, I can fix-”

“You didn’t do anything.” You let out a sigh, there’s no way you were going to get out of talking with Jessie. You didn’t want to have to explain it to her, but you also didn’t want her sitting around thinking she did something wrong.

“It’s more my Mom, as embarrassing as that is to admit.” You pinch your eyes shut, feeling shy that you’re admitting that as a 22 year old, your Mom got into your head and made you change your behavior.

“Your Mom?” Jessie seems surprised, she definitely wasn’t expecting your Mom to be involved.

“She made some comments to me, she thought our relationship was becoming unprofessional. She even accused me, well us, of sleeping together.” You explain your behavior, you regret mentioning the sleeping together part as soon as it comes out of your mouth. You keep staring at the coffee in your hands, too nervous to look up and see Jessie’s reaction.

“Oh.” Jessie doesn’t say anything else.

“I obviously told her it wasn’t anything besides professional. We were just working, but her words got in my head so I figured the easiest way was to take a step back.”

“Oh come on!?” You could see her throw her hands up in your peripheral vision.

“What?” You lifted your head to look at her. You weren’t sure why she seemed to be annoyed with you.

“Am I really that bad of a flirt that you thought all those conversations we had were strictly professional?”

[hellaversity]

See, this is what happens when people don't count important details in storytelling just because it's not being said outright, but rather shown through character expressions without dialogue. There were hints from the beginning that Stella was always meant to be a bad person and an obstacle to Stolas' feelings for Blitzø.

Don't believe me? Watch Loo Loo Land again with more open ears and eyes. Stella is shown throwing stuff at Stolas, including his sentient plants which he values highly and she was likely aware of that. That imp butler she threw at him means she not only abuses Stolas, but her own servants too, especially those of a particular lower class race.

Octavia's expressions here imply that this isn't an isolated incident either. That's the look of a girl who's heard this same type of arguing from her parents everyday. With how annoyed she looks, Stolas and Stella might as well have been fighting like this for years. It'd be more surprising if they didn't.

Octavia's lack of a reaction to her mom throwing a plant that almost hit her implies that this is far from the first time Stella has thrown things around the house. That is a concerning thing to get used to. Stella is also heard yelling about Stolas sleeping with an IMP, in THEIR bed. Notice the emphasis on "imp" and "our" bed. Even Stolas' only response to that is "I didn't have time to go to a motel!" It's pretty clear here that Stella is more concerned about about Stolas cheating on her with an imp specifically and ruining her reputation than the fact that he cheated at all.

If she was truly upset about the cheating itself, she would've said something more along the lines of "I can't believe you slept with someone else!" or something like that. Throwing their imp butler and him saying "You wanna fuck this one too?" and calling Stolas "pathetic, imp-sucking face" is all you need to know that Stella is making it more about WHO Stolas cheated on her with than the fact that he cheated. Keep in mind that this argument was going on right in front of Via, who didn't even say anything or try to stop it.

Octavia here says "You two done screaming for the day?" with little emotion, and Stolas' reply basically amounts to "Yup" without hesitation. More and more proof that his marriage with Stella was NEVER happy and never something that he wanted.

Later in the episode, Via does say that her parents used to love each other, even though we as the audience know it's not true. Stolas even tries to explain to her that he and Stella were never in love to begin with, but he didn't have the words. Because how exactly can you explain to your daughter that you and your wife were in an arranged marriage since you guys were kids for the sole purpose of producing a child, without offending her and making her think she was only born for one purpose? Or better yet, what reason is there to assume that she'd actually believe you?

People have looked at this picture on the wall and somehow came to the conclusion that Stolas and Stella used to be in a happy, loving relationship based on this picture alone, just because Stella is smiling in it. But if you look cloesly, you'll see that smile on Stella is barely there. She's very obviously faking it to keep up an image. She's forcing it so people won't get suspicious. This is the vision of Stella that Octavia remembers from her youth, which is exactly why she was naive enough to believe that her parents genuinely loved each other before Blitzø came along for a one night stand in hopes of getting the grimoire. Sure, she had seen them arguing and fighting with each other before that, but that's mainly because most if not all parents have gotten into nasty arguments at some point that their children were more likely than not to witness.

Stella is barely looking at Stolas there, clearly rolling her eyes and just wanting the picture to be overwith already. Stolas is genuinely happy there, but that's because his "little owlette" is there with him. He's not looking at Stella at all. Another picture in their house with just Stolas and Stella together has both of them frowning and looking at the camera, not each other. Octavia is the only thing to come out of Stolas' marriage that ever gave him any real happiness. She was the only reason he stayed at that house.

That scene where Stella ignores Octavia's cry for help when she's having a nightmare and tells Stolas to go check on her instead is more evidence that Stella had never been a nice person or a good mother. You could argue that she was just too tired to do anything about it, but look again. Stolas was just as tired as she was, yet he still went out of way to comfort his "little Starfire" when she was having a bad dream. Octavia may have called for both of her parents, but she said she had a bad dream about her father disappearing. Not her parents, just her father.

Also notice the drawings in Octavia's bedroom when she's a child. Look at how many of them are of her and Stolas together, but Stella is nowhere to be found in those drawings. That shows how close Via is to her father, especially when she was a little girl, but was never really close to her mother at all. Sure, those drawings are no longer in Via's room when she's a teen in the present, but remember that her and Stolas gradually got less close to each other as the years went by and their relationship got more flawed, to the point that Via questions if her dad even loves her anymore and literally listens to music about hating dads. But the fact remains that there were never any drawings of Stella in her daughter's room and there still isn't now is pretty telling that Stella was never a good mom, still isn't now and likely never will be.

Now look at The Harvest Moon Festival. If Loo Loo Land didn't convince you that Stella was a bitch, then this episode sure will. Stella's only scene in the episode is her screaming into a phone while she's talking to Striker about wanting Stolas dead. Right in front of him and Octavia. While Via is listening to music that's too loud for her to have even heard the screaming, Stolas heard it pretty clearly. But he had no reaction to his own wife screeching about hiring an assassin to kill him. Him being completely unphased by something like that is surely a sign that Stella had always hated his guts and he knew about it. He likely heard her shouting at the top of her lungs about wanting to murder him with her own bare hands. If he's not reacting to Stella talking to Striker on the phone about planning his death in front of him, he might as well have been hearing shit like that from her for years.

Not counting the pilot, those are the only two scenes with Stella in season 1. Both scenes depicted her in the same light. A loud, violent bitch in a loveless marriage. Therefore, her reveal in The Circus about always hating Stolas from the get go is not a retcon. Not that there was even much known about her character for there to be retconned in the first place, but her few scenes before that episode showed her doing and saying nothing BUT horrible things.

As for Stolitz, Blitzø is more than once implied to return Stolas' feelings for him. He just never said it out loud and is in denial about his own feelings. He's not even aware that Stolas' love for him is genuine because between their reuniting at the Not Divorce Party and their fumbled fake date at Ozzie's, Stolas has only ever talked to Blitzø with sexual innuendos. So Blitzø had no reason to assume that Stolas was legitimately in love with him and didn't just want him for sexy times, because Stolas hadn't really been helping his case. Blitzø ranted to Fizzarolli about Stolas "acting" like he cared about him outside of sex.

Everytime Blitzø talks about Stolas treating him like his own personal fuck toy, he looks and sounds pretty upset about it. I doubt he'd care all that much about his relationship with Stolas being transactional fucking if he didn't like him back. Right after the fake date gone wrong at Ozzie's, Blitzø is looking at several pictures saved in his phone, one of them being a photo of him Stolas laying together in bed. Blitzø looks genuinely happy in that photo, he's even smiling. He DOES enjoy being around Stolas. When Loona comforts him after Bee's party, he can be heard whispering the names of all the people he cares about and is close to. Those people being Loona, Moxxie, Millie and.... Stolas.

In Seeing Stars, Blitzø blushes when seeing Stolas in his human form and you can see his pupils dialating for a few seconds before he changes for a few seconds. I don't know about you, but I don't blush at anyone i'm not in love with when they get a new look. Pupils dialating are also a commom indication that you're looking at something you love. Later in that episode, Blitzo nervously sweats when Stolas whispers into his ear with a seductive voice, smiles at Stolas specifically when he causes the whole audience to laugh, and holds his hand while they run out of the burning building. Blitzø did not need to hold Stolas' hand. He could've just said "Hey, let's get the fuck outta here," and Stolas wouldn't have hesitated. On top of that, they are still shown holding hands long after they escaped and only let go once they see their daughters.

Now, onto the most complicated scene involving the Stolitz relationship, during Blitzø's ball tripping hallucination where he sees Stolas on top of a staircase and is being pulled towards him with chains. Already not a good sign. But Blitzø was already climbing the staircase before the chains appeared. Even when he saw Stolas above him, he didn't run away. He briefly walked towards him before being dragged towards him. He's seen blushing once he reaches the top and Stolas caresses his face. Also notice how the art style in Blitzø's ball trip sequence was completely different from how the show normally looks, but the moment he saw Stolas the art style changed back to normal. Meaning that Blitzø feels the most like himself when he's around Stolas.

He just wants to be in a legit, healthy relationship with Stolas out of love, not the transactional fuck buddy situation he's in right now. He wishes that Stolas would stop calling him degrading nicknames like "impish little plaything" and is bothered by the power imbalance between the two of them.

"Show, don't tell" is an important writing tool that isn't respected these days. If a story isn't being anvilicious and spoonfeeding you information with heavy-handed exposition and infodumps left and right, then foreshadowing details get dismissed and ignored, with some people straight up saying they don't count because it's not being spelled out to them every 5 seconds. This is why some people still insist that Stella's villainy was retconned and that Blitzø has no interest in Stolas despite evidence to the contrary. They were paying more attention to their headcanons than what the show actually presented, and got mad when their headcanons were contradicted by canon.

[barbiiecams]

arguments with toxic!rafe when you’re just as toxic as him.. he’s humbling you rq 😭.

all day he was experiencing the silent treatment. as much as it was your fault, you were still pissed. he failed to pick you up from a party last night and completely left you stranded until you ultimately decided to just get an uber. when you were blowing up his phone, he ignored you each and every time. shit, he probably even blocked you at one point.

now, he’s sitting here all in your face telling you how childish and self centered you are. as if that’s not one of the reasons he’s so obsessed with you.

“rafe get out of my face.” you warned, pushing his head with your hand.

“no. you always wanna start this shit for no reason then act innocent.” he responded as he followed you up to the bedroom.

ignoring his words again, you attempted to make it into the room by yourself and lock him out. but to your inconvenience, he was right up your ass.

you didn’t even have the chance to reach for the door behind you because he pushed you inside the room, walked in, then locked both of you inside.

“who the fuck you think you are pushing me?” you turned around real quick to push him right back.

it’s no use, you could try it all you wanted but he was too sturdy and too big to even nudge a little.

he lets out some air from his nose, and brushes his hand over his face. “we’re gonna talk this out. you understand?”

he points a finger in your face while he talks. usually this would piss you off, but right now you could see he was desperately trying with you.

“fine.” you agreed then went to sit on the bed. he sat down next to you and wasted no time talking.

“the attitude changes and accusations have to stop. you know why i didn’t come to pick you up last night.” he starts.

“actually i don’t-”

“im not done speaking.” he cuts you off. you gave him a look that said ‘boy watch yourself’ but he very much ignored it and continued.

“you know how much i love you? how much i worry about your safety? i didn’t even want you to go last night. matter of fact i told you not to.”

it seemed like you heard the same stuff each argument, but he knew none of it ever stuck. he was determined to get you to listen tonight.

“what did i say before you left?”

“to be ready by 10.” you said in a quiet, almost embarrassed voice because you knew you were the one wrong this time. would you admit that? hell no.

“exactly. but you wanted to have your little outbursts and argue with me and tell me i was being too controlling. and obviously you need that structure. right?”

you nod but you still weren’t about to give up that easily.

“okay but-”

“but nothing. i told you i’d be doing business with barry after the fact.”

“any other boyfriend would’ve stopped and came!” you tried with him.

all he did was scoff, “so that i don’t have any money, and then you would cry everyday since you don’t have the newest bag in stores? real funny. i’ll save myself the headache.”

you couldn’t argue with him because he was most definitely right. being you, it was still gonna take you another hour or so to apologize. or, he could force it out.

“whatever.” you said while getting up to go start your nightly routine. you didn’t make it very far because rafe was quick to grab your arm.

“not so fast. what do you say?” you stood there for a second just looking at him.

“hello? i know you’re not mute all of a sudden.” he smirks at you being straight hardheaded. it would piss another man off, but he found it amusing with you. and he wouldn’t trade it either.

“i’m not apologizing.” you finally said. you were hoping for the right response to this, and he didn’t disappoint.

“no? well i guess that means you’re gonna have to get it fucked out of you.” he shrugs, then quickly lifting you up and onto the bed. before you knew it, your panties were off and he was already starting with the hickeys on your neck.

smiling at how fast things were going, you still wondered when he would realize why you loved to pick arguments so much.

[pedgito]

just saw an asks where you are talking about mean eddie mocking you and it did something to me lmao. could you elaborate on that with a little blurb. maybe ur riding eddie and it just feels so good that your legs give up on u and he is being mean and sarcastic about it till he takes the lead

author’s note: i couldn’t remember what i said about that so just enjoy really playful/mean eddie, this would’ve been longer but i’ve been struggling a bit lately, still i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni) mean!eddie & mean!reader (but it’s all playful, slight dom!eddie (if you squint), protected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 1.8k

Eddie was an antagonizer in its purest form, never malicious but always with an endgame in mind. It would start as subtle teasing, off-handed comments that would have you retorting back in such a manner that Eddie couldn’t help but smile, knowing he’d get you back for it later.

He’d crowd behind you at your locker, hand clasped over yours where it’s gripping the metal and whisper against your ear, “Keep wearing stuff like that and I’m not gonna be able to handle myself.”

You could wear anything and Eddie would have the same response, but that was beside the point. His free hand slips into the open hole of your ripped jeans against your upper thigh and squeezes, forcing a surprised laugh out of you, muffling it with your hand as you ducked your head into your locker, elbowing him gently with your other arm.

It was an everyday occurrence now and you’ve learned the only way to shut him up is to react, even if you’d regret it later.

“What? So you can fuck me in the bathroom again?” You tease lightly, “A whole three minutes? I know you can do better.”

Eddie shrugs, “Can you blame me?”

His attraction toward you was never-ending and intense, something you’ve never experienced before him. Eddie was the kind of suffocating love you always wanted, soaking up every moment of it.

“Part of me thinks you like the idea of getting caught,” You smirk half heartedly, “kinda fucked up if you ask me.”

“You’re one to talk.” Eddie replies, ignoring your obvious jab.

You laugh softly, leaning forward until your lips are barely touching, eyes glaring into Eddie’s, “Is that what you want?”

Eddie makes a small noise of confusion, still playing into your act.

“You wanna fuck me, right here?” Eddie wouldn’t dare, he’s not that asinine, but he enjoys the back and forth, the deep fire in your eyes as you speak to him. Your hand tugs at the hem of his shirt, hand resting just above the belt of his jeans, twisting the shirt in your hands slightly before pulling him toward you abruptly, pressing a bruising kiss against his lips.

“Too bad,” You answer for him, “I need to focus on this English test,” Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes—you were perfectly fine, up to aces with all of your work and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you wouldn’t pass, “and Principal Higgins is watching us—so you should probably get to class.”

Eddie chances a glance to his left, realizing just how right you were. He looks back quickly, familiar smirk on your face as you pull away, reaching behind you to close your locker.

“Stay out of trouble?” You ask, tone soft and warm toward him.

“No promises,” He replies wearily, scratching at the side of his jaw, mindful of the eyes still watching you both, “everyone’s out to get me, remember?”

“You’ll stay out of trouble,” You assure him again, eyeing him briefly, eyes dragging from head to toe, “right?”

And he can see it in the look you give him, the salacious grin on your face. There would be consequences—or metaphorical consequences, not that he didn’t have a way to counter them, but he nods.

“Mhmm,” He agrees, nodding slightly. “Promise.”

But, promises didn’t always hold up and we’re bound to break at some point.

And it’s no surprise when you find Eddie in after school detention with an even more shameful look on his face than earlier in the day, dragging his feet up to you in a leisurely manner as he wraps his arms over your shoulder, slung around you loosely.

“You never listen to me,” You complain with amusement, letting him press a light kiss into your hair, the smirk evident in his face even if you couldn’t see him. “Do you?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, briefly, “No.”

So, by later that night, it’s almost a constant back and forth, neither of you daring to break until Eddie gets his hands around your thighs, pulling you tight against him, burying himself even deeper.

“What was that?” He asks, a patronizing lilt in his voice, breath coming out in pants. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I can’t—“ You breath out, shoving his hands away weakly, “no more, Eddie, please.”

He’d already managed to make you come twice, quickly working his way into a third, his hips moving gingerly as he listened to you, though he was obviously enjoying your torture, his eyes lighting up at the feeling of your muscles twitching involuntarily under his touch, too weak to even raise yourself up onto your knees.

“Fuck—you really got a fuckin’ mouth on you when you like to think you’re in charge,” Eddie laughs slightly, “baby, that’s never the case.”

And even if that was true, you don’t really mind.

“Eddie,” You plead, hands shoved against his chest in an effort to push away slightly, “come on.”

“Do you really wanna stop?” Eddie teases, fingers slipping into the dip where your hips meet your pelvis and rocking your hips slowly, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as your mouth drops open, a broken gasp leaving your lips.

Your eyes are barely open, riddled with exhaustion and hanging on by a thread.

“Didn’t think so.” He comments off handedly, “Look at me.”

You shake your head petulantly, lids falling shut as you breathe deeply, savoring the deep penetrating feeling of Eddie inside of you, hitting the spot that made your entire body ache, skin feeling white hot.

Eddie slaps your thigh lightly, a gentle warning.

“Hey,” Eddie chides, “you can handle it, right?”

It’s the same tone you used on him early, only countered toward you. He knew exactly how to get under your skin.

“Shut up.” You pout, blunt nails digging into his chest.

Eddie grunts softly, tutting his tongue against his teeth.

“S’not as sweet when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”

Eddie drives his point even further with a sharp thrust of his hips, hands squeezing impossibly tight against your skin.

Your mouth falls open further, which Eddie mimics in a way that drives you mad, face contorting into a mix of frustration and yearning, begging him to give it up—whatever act he was playing or devious plan he had in the back of his mind.

But, Eddie was stubborn.

“I know you wanna say it,” Eddie tells you, “Say it—say my name, sweetheart.”

You sigh heavily, head tipping back, “Fuck—Eddie,” Eddie makes a quiet noise of approval, “Eddie—“

“See how perfect you sound when all you can think about is me,” Eddie seethes, grunting as the rate of thrusts grew faster, forcing you to fall forward, hands digging into the soft fabric of the pillow, “so drunk on my dick you can’t think of anything else.”

“I’ve got plenty of thoughts in my head.” You retort.

Eddie huffs a laugh, daring you to challenge him.

His hands grip your own, clasped between his warm palms, his hips suddenly unmoving.

“Do it yourself then,” He instructs, “yeah?”

But, your body was entirely too weak, hips aching from the stretch and muscles screaming protest—you just wanted to rest, have Eddie wrap his body around you and lull you to sleep, but instead you were here, reaping the consequences of getting under Eddie’s skin all day.

Your movements are slow, without any real rhythm, just a desperate grind of your hips, seeking the friction.

And it’s frustrating, face again furrowing in annoyance as you rocked your hips jerkily, eventually giving up, slight frown on your face.

“Say you’re sorry,” Eddie says, “for teasing me, making fun of me—“

“God, you’re unbelievable—“

Eddie makes a pointed face, eyebrow quirking in amusement.

The smug bastard. He didn’t care for an apology, he just wanted the satisfaction of seeing your crumble under his will.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” You say in exasperation, “but Eddie, I can’t—I really can’t take anymore—“

Eddie nods, pulling you down toward his chest and flipping you in one slow, fluid motion, bodies never disconnecting.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” He smiles, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, hurried kiss, hips moving quickly against you, his fingers finding your clit almost instantly and it’s all too overwhelming, body pliant to his touch but aching for release, “you still with me?”

You nod slightly, forcing your head deeper against the pillow, eyes shut in exhaustion as Eddie pressed himself against you, mouthing at random parts of your skin, delicate touches to remind you he was still there, his hand still an igniting pressure against your cunt, fingers working quickly over your swollen clit.

“Hey, eyes,” He nudges softly, squeezing at your thigh, “look at me, babe.”

You peek at him slightly, laughing at his righteous grin.

“Just one more,” He promises, his early words seeping back into your thoughts, “that’s it.”

And when it hits you, you don’t even have the energy to make a sound, mouth falling open as you grip at Eddie’s shoulder, bound to leave bruises from the tightness of it. He makes sure to carry you through until it’s all over, snapping his hips a few more times until it’s over for himself, having held out for longer than he’s used to—it’s guttural, the groan that escapes him, hands fisting in to the pillow beside your head to avoid squeezing you too hard.

“So, about those three minutes—“ You start lightly, attempting to wean Eddie back into consciousness.

“Had to prove a point,” Eddie explains through staggered huffs, “how’d I do?”

“Do I really need to answer that?” You ask profoundly, hair matted to your face from the sweat, chests touching with every breath you took.

“Just checking,” He chuckles, pressing a messy, closed mouth kiss over the tip of your nose, “gotta piss me off more often, sweetheart—this is pretty fun.”

“Fuck you.” You reply playfully, kicking him off weakly until he’s falling to his back on the mattress, “I can’t even feel my legs.”

Eddie disposes of the condom discreetly while you slowly slip your underwear back on, crawling back up the bed lazilyy until he’s flat on his stomach, hands reaching for the tender flesh of your thigh.

“Let me take care of you then,” Eddie smiles slightly, those his words are laced with dangerous undertone—it’s all teasing, but it earns a familiar look of warning his way, “I meant like, a massage or something. You know, not everything I say is dirty minded—“

You offer a pointed glance his way, seeing right through his bullshit.

“Okay, most of it is—but come on, let me.”

You sigh quietly, nodding in response.

His touches are just as gentle, if not more.

It’s a reminder of how well Eddie balanced all of it, the hard intensity of his exterior alongside the delicate personality woven on the inside—it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before, but it was everything you needed.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (5)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.4K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, eventual smut

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

Buckle in, folks!

-----

He spends that first night tossing and turning, fighting to find sleep. It’s hard for him to be down the hall, knowing you were so close, yet so far out of his reach. In only a few days, he had gotten used to falling asleep and waking up with you in the chair beside his bed. The next morning, you somehow look more tired now than you had the whole time he was in the hospital, and he was sure that he was the same. 

Being here was different than he anticipated. Part of him expected to walk into this house and have every memory he’d lost rush back to him in technicolor. He was disappointed when that didn’t happen, and he thinks that even if you won’t say it, you are, too. 

He didn’t remember anything, but his instincts were there. He knew which drawer held the utensils and which cabinet housed plates and bowls and which one had coffee cups. He knew where the two of you kept Florry’s food and that her treats were kept in one of the drawers in the coffee table. It was muscle memory, he supposed. 

But his brain tickled sometimes, like it wanted to remember something but couldn’t. He often felt that frustrating sensation of something being right there on the tip of his tongue, but he’s unable to produce exactly what it is. 

He dreams every night. His subconscious creates scenes of flying and crashing ocean waves, of snow covered streets and twinkle lights. He swears your laughter echoes in his ears when he rouses to consciousness. 

He doesn’t know if they’re memories, or if they’re figments brought on by the yearning he feels toward you the longer he’s around you. Either way, they’re never quite clear enough for him to even ask you about them. But he sneaks into your office one night and swipes a pen and a pad of sticky notes and takes to writing down all the details he can recall when he wakes up. 

Over the first few days of being home, the two of you get into a tentative routine. You somehow wake before he does, and there’s coffee waiting for him when he makes his way downstairs. You’re not much of a breakfast person, but you make him eggs and bacon and toast or whatever he’s in the mood for, even if he insists you don’t have to. You take him to his follow up appointments or evaluations, which takes up his time until the early afternoon. The two of you have taken to grabbing lunch while you’re out everyday, before going back to the home you share and making yourselves busy until dinner.

He finds himself wanting to touch you more. There were no more forehead kisses, but his knee will knock against yours sometimes when the two of you are eating. He always holds the door open for you whenever you two are out, and sometimes you’ll brush against him just so when you’re passing by. When the two of you are walking somewhere, his fingers twitch to hold onto yours. He’s taken to placing his hand near your lower back, not quite touching you, but close enough where he can feel your body heat. 

You like to curl up in the corner of your sectional couch, and he feels like you’re a million miles away when he sits on the other end. 

Getting to know you again is a whirlwind of feelings he doesn’t understand. You’re kind, and beautiful, and you make him laugh. He has near constant butterflies in his stomach whenever you’re around. 

He knows himself well enough to know that he’s developed feelings for you, and the concept makes his head hurt, knowing this isn’t the first time but not remembering it. He doesn’t mention it to you, because he doesn’t know if it would make things better or worse. 

He wants to ask you questions about the two of you, too. You told him how you met, but he wants to know what your first date was like. He wants to know who said I love you first, though he thinks it was him. He wants to know how he proposed after only 4 months of knowing you and he wants to know why you said yes. 

He wants to know everything, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Part of him is scared of the answers.

He’s seen the way you look at him, sometimes. Like it breaks your heart for him to be there with you, even though he knows how relieved you are for him to be. You don’t say anything to him, but he knows that you’re struggling. You do your best to always keep a smile on your face around him, but it’s your eyes that give you away, combined with this deep instinct he seems to have when it comes to you and your emotions.

After dinner every night, you’ve been finding yourselves sitting out on the back porch. The weather has been getting cooler and watching the sun go down with you has become his favorite part of being home. You avoid anything too heavy, too intimate, but you regale him with different tales from the last few years with your friends and your individual careers, or of you before you knew him, but the light in your eye is dim whenever you finish a tale and there’s no recognition in his. 

He’s worried about you, but he doesn’t know if he has the right to tell you that. There’s something of a tension building in the air, and he can’t figure out how to cut through it just yet.  

But he enjoys getting to know you again, and he hangs onto your every word. He loves every single moment the two of you have together and craves more of them. Even the most mundane of things, like when he went with you to the grocery store of all places. Phoenix had loaded their kitchen with essentials, but there was a specific recipe you were wanting to make that you swore he would love but that you needed a few things for. You looked surprised when he had asked if he could go with you, but pleased at the same time. 

He pushed the cart as you checked things off your list and god, he loved watching you. You were looking up and down the aisle you were standing in, seemingly a little puzzled, and he was completely enraptured. 

“I can never remember where the dates are,” you muttered, and he thinks it might have been only to yourself, but he couldn’t help but smirk a little bit. 

“On a calendar?” 

You shot him a look, looking incredulous but amused, and smacked him lightly on the arm with the list you were carrying. The touch sent a shot of electricity through him and he laughed, feeling warm. “Ow.” 

“Okay, you comedian,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “I was going to make you dessert, but maybe I won’t now,” 

“No, come on,” he laughed, pushing the cart forward, nodding his head to the side, “They’re in the next aisle over,” 

You stop walking, and after a second, Bradley does too, realizing what he just said. He turns to you and you’re looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He thinks he might see a little bit of pride in them, too. And it’s so silly, getting choked up by instinctively remembering where something is in a grocery store he can never remember being in, but he feels a lump in his throat anyway. He coughs, trying to dislodge the emotion. You don’t say a word, maybe sensing the moment that he’s having, but you squeeze his arm when you pass by him on your way to the aisle he indicated. After a moment, he follows behind you. 

He thinks he would follow you anywhere. 

————

It’s a Friday and he's been home for eight days now. He has a headache when he wakes up that morning, and he can’t remember anything notable from the previous night's dream to write down in his notebook. Part of him wants to go back to sleep and try again, but he pushes himself out of bed anyway. 

Like she had been the last few days, Florry is laying at the guest room door when he opens it. She looks up and meows at him, nuzzling into his hand when he squats down to scratch her head for a moment before she gets up and struts away. He snorts at her, amused at how as soon as she gets what she wants, she moves on to something else. 

He makes his way downstairs slowly, feeling like a drum is pounded right in his ear with every step. There’s a distinct spice in the air as he walks toward the kitchen, and it takes a few sniffs before he places it. 

“Pumpkin?” 

To his surprise, you gasp, and the knife you were holding slips from your grasp and clatters to the granite countertop. You jumped back from it, but your wide eyes were looking straight at him. 

“What did you just call me?”

“What?” 

“You said - you called me Pumpkin.” 

This was one of those significant moments that he was missing. Bradley suddenly felt incredibly awkward, and a little ashamed. A flush crept up his neck to warm his cheeks in the worst way. 

“I uh - I was talking about the smell.”

Watching your face fall cuts him worse than the knife you had been holding ever could. For a brief moment, he saw raw devastation completely overcome you. He starts to say your name, but you cut him off before he can.

“I’m making pumpkin banana pancakes,” you tell him after a moment. You pick the knife back up to continue cutting up the fruit you had on the cutting board. He wants to ask you what had just happened, but bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself. He’s frustrated that he can’t remember, and the hurt in your eyes was making his head pound harder. He hates that he’s putting you through this. 

The two of you eat breakfast together, but it’s quieter than it normally is. The air was awkward, tense, and it seemed that neither one of you really knew what to say. 

The day had only gotten worse from there. He was late for his doctor's appointment because the two of you had gotten stuck in traffic, and there was little he hated more in life than being late. His headache had only gotten worse, and he hadn’t been cleared to drive or go back to any sort of desk duty yet. To top it all off, the two of you had run into someone you knew during a near silent lunch and he had to awkwardly push himself through the conversation while pretending he did, too ashamed to actually say he had no idea who he was. 

By the time you returned back home, he was in a sour mood, and he really wanted to go back to bed. 

“Do you need anything?” you asked softly, hovering between the kitchen and living room as he settled himself on the couch unceremoniously. 

“No,” he said shortly, pulling a blanket over him. 

You sigh, and he’s irritated with himself for making you feel bad, too. 

“I’m going to go up to my office for a bit then, okay?” he doesn’t respond. When you sigh, he’s irritated with himself even more for making you feel bad, too. “You can come up and get me if you need anything.” 

Bradley tries to nap the afternoon away, but it’s more fitful than restful. He tosses and turns on the couch. Florry jumps on him at one point, waking him from one of his dozes. 

He closes his eyes, trying again to find some sort of sleep, but nothing comes for him. His mind was moving a little too quickly now, and the guilt was setting in. He had been short with you almost all day, and even if he was frustrated, you didn’t deserve that. You were frustrated too, even if you wouldn’t say it. 

Sometimes he wishes you would.

Why the hell did this happen to him after everything else in his life?

His dad, and then his mom, and Mav pulling his papers. He still hasn’t brought himself to reach out to the man he had apparently reconciled with, but you’ve mentioned how he’s asked after him whenever the two of you speak, as had the rest of the crew. It’s frustrating, suddenly having all these people in his life who he views as family, only to have no recollection of who they are. Seeing himself in all of these pictures that are throughout the house constantly boggles his mind. He hates being so confused all the time. 

He hates that he can’t remember you, and that you spend all of your days trying to be strong for him. 

He groans, running a hand roughly over his face. After another 45 minutes of staring at the ceiling fan spin, he throws the blanket off of his legs and forces himself up. He couldn’t do much, but he could at least apologize. 

He drags himself up the stairs slowly, trying to figure out exactly what to say. The door to your office is pulled closed for the first time since he’s come home; he tries not to read into that as you wanting him to stay away. He goes to take a step closer and knock, but your voice through the door stops him. 

“The timing is awful, Jake.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. The only Jake he knew was Hangman, and he hasn’t wrapped his mind completely around the fact that he was apparently one of his best friends now. 

“Bringing a baby into this would make everything so much more complicated. He’s struggling enough as it is. You think suddenly becoming a father would make this all better? The test being negative is for the best.” 

He sucks in a breath, feeling like he just got suckerpunched right in the stomach. He braces himself against the hallway wall with one hand, unsure if he heard you correctly. 

“I’m okay,” you say, and he wishes he could hear both sides of the conversation. He feels like he’s going to pass out. “I promise.” 

There’s another pause, and you let out a small laugh, “I might take you up on that, J.” 

Bradley backs away from the door, his mind going a thousand miles a minute as he tries to process what just happened. 

A baby? You were talking about having a baby. You had mentioned a test. Had you taken it recently? Since he had been home? Why hadn’t you told him, if you had? Was this something that had happened before his accident and just another thing that he forgot? 

He’s your husband. He may not remember it, but he was. Didn’t he have a right to know? 

He stews for a while, and that’s his biggest mistake. He’s scared, and bizarrely disappointed, he’s hurt, but most of all he’s angry. He’s angry that you’re talking to other people about something so personal, but not him. And Hangman, of all people. It festers inside of him, and by the time you come back downstairs, he’s sizzling in it.

“How does chicken and asparagus sound for dinner?” You’re smiling as you walk into the room, but it drops when you see the look in his face. “Are you alright?”

“You thought you were pregnant?”

The color drains from your face, and he knows he has his answer. He stands up from the couch to face you, his thoughts jumbled together, fighting for dominance in his head. You had thought you were pregnant. And you didn’t tell him. 

“How did you know that?” 

“I overheard you on the phone with Hangman,” he practically spits the name, feeling his anger swell even more. “When did you take it?” 

“Bradley-” 

“When did you take the test?” 

You let out a long, shaky breath. You’re twisting your ring around your finger again, and your eyes are starting to glass up, but he forces himself not to focus on any of that. “Yesterday,” you admit softly, “I took it yesterday.” 

He groans, running a hand through his hair. You both had been in this house almost all day yesterday. He had been right here. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? I could have been there with you!”

“Bradley-” 

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that we’d been trying to have kids before I got hurt?” 

“Bradley, I really don’t think we should talk about this right now,” you said, trying to remain as calm as possible, but he was already way past that point. 

“Well I want to talk about it,” he snaps, “Why would you keep this from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you!” you say, your voice rising to meet his. “We aren’t trying for a baby, Bradley. It was a scare. That’s all.”

“But you still took a test! And you didn’t tell me!” 

“There was nothing to tell,” you try, but Bradley shakes his head as his anger reaches a boiling point. 

“Not to me, apparently. You told fucking Hangman about it, but not me? Aren’t I the one who is supposed to be your husband?”

“Yeah, Bradley. You are,” you finally snap, your voice raising for the first time, “But how the hell was I supposed to tell you when you don’t even remember who I am?” 

It was a low blow, but Bradley has never been one to back down.

“I’m trying!” he yells, and you startle back at just how loud he is, “I’m trying every single day. You think I don’t want to remember you? Someone I apparently almost had a kid with? Someone who I want to care for and protect even though I have no idea why? I know this sucks for you, but think about what I’m going through here.” 

“You think I’m not thinking about you?” you demand, shaking your head, “You’re all I’ve been thinking about, Bradley!” 

“Am I?,” he asks, and your mouth drops at the words, but he keeps going anyway even though every instinct in him is screaming at him to shut up. “I trust you without being able to remember you, but it’s hard to do that if you keep things from me. I have no idea what the fuck is going on the majority of the time and you’re the only one I have who will tell me things. Or don’t you want me to remember?” 

The words came out harsher than he anticipated. The look on your face made him wish that he could take them back. His anger dissipated as he saw the tears that had been welling up in your eyes finally fall. 

Your name left his lips, but you cut him off before an apology could follow behind.

“Of course I do,” you choked out, a sob catching in your throat. It looks like there’s more you want to say, but after a moment, you just shake your head, your breathing labored. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

Those weren’t the words he expected. Alarm bells are ringing loudly in his head, demanding he fix what he’s done here. 

“What?”

“I need some air,” you explain, your voice cracking. His heart ached watching you gather your phone and keys. 

He speaks your name again, pleading and reaching out for you as you step toward the front door. To his surprise, you ripped your arm out of his grasp. “You don’t call me that,” you snapped. Bradley’s eyes widened. He watches as you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. 

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” you promise. You don’t look at him as you grab a pair of shoes from the closet by the front door, slipping them on. You don’t slam the door when you leave, but the sound of it closing still echoes like gunfire to him. 

He sinks back onto the couch, his aching head in his hands, wondering what the hell he had just done.

————

An hour has passed and you still weren’t back yet. Bradley has taken to pacing back and forth through the living room, peeking out of the curtains by the front door. He shouldn’t have let you leave when you were that upset. He shouldn’t have made you that upset to begin with. He was out of line.

When he really thinks about it with a clearer mind, he understands to an extent why you didn’t tell him about taking the test. He was virtually a stranger to you right now. There would have been little point to filling him in right now when it would have just panicked and confused him. He knows, deep down, that if the test would have been positive that you would have told him. But he had been so scared at that moment, overhearing you on the phone like that. And if he really admitted it to himself, he was jealous, too. He wanted to be the one you confided in for all of those things, big or small, certainty or uncertainty. But he had done nothing to really earn that. 

It wasn’t fair that he accused you of not thinking about him, either. It was so clear in everything that the two of you did that you were taking him into consideration. You had stayed with him every single day in the hospital. You had taken an impromptu leave of absence from work and drove him to all of his appointments. You cooked all of his meals for him and made sure he took his medicine on time and were readily available if he needed anything. You did everything you could to make him as comfortable as he could possibly be in this impossibly uncomfortable situation. You had sacrificed everything for him, and he was a jerk to you in response. 

He really, really wants you to come home soon. 

He had gotten his phone back, but he hadn’t brought himself around to touching it yet, knowing it would be full of a whole life that he wasn’t ready to face yet. Would you even answer if he called at this point? 

Maybe he could go look for you instead. 

Right when he’s about to grab his shoes, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He heaves a sigh of relief when he sees you climbing the steps to the back porch through the window in the kitchen.

You must have come through the back gate instead. He doesn’t even care if it was because you wanted to avoid running into him immediately, so long as you were safe. 

You don’t unlock the door or move to enter the house. Instead, he watches as you settle into one of the plush chairs you have out there below the window that faces into the yard. Your back is to him now, but he’s breathing easier that you’re in his line of sight; you’re okay. 

He lets you be, for a little while. But after another 20 minutes had passed and the sun started setting without you coming inside, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was vibrating with the need to be near you again, to talk to you and apologize. He didn’t like being on the outs with you like this, and he knew it was mostly his fault. 

Your knees are tucked into your chest and your head leant back, but he could see that your eyes were open. They turned to him when he cracked open the door. 

“Hey,” he said simply. 

“Hey.” Your voice is still thick with the tears you had cried earlier. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing he was the one who caused it. 

“Do you mind if I join you out here?” 

“Sure.” 

He steps out onto the porch, sliding the door shut behind him. You look back out into the orange covering your background as he sinks into the chair next to you. 

“How uh..how was your walk?” 

“It was fine,” you respond, hugging your knees a little bit closer. You go to push a piece of hair behind your ear and your ring glints in the setting sun. 

“I was worried about you,” he whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear him. But you do, turning your head to look at him. For the first time, he can’t quite read the look on your face. He takes a shaky breath, rubbing his palms on his thighs as he tries to figure out his words. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have kept something that big from you.” 

He shakes his head, because blaming yourself is the last thing he wants for you. “You were looking out for me,” he says, “I understand that now. You…you would have told me, if the results were different. I know that.” 

You nod, not saying anything, and Bradley sighs out your name again. “It wasn’t fair for me to snap at you like that. To yell at you like that. I-I’m so sorry.” 

“You’re going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “but so are you. All of this, me being hurt and not….” he cuts himself off, but by the way you close your eyes and let a tear slip down your cheek, you knew exactly what he was going to say. 

Not remembering us. 

“I’ll never be mad at you for being injured, baby,” you say quietly. The term of endearment takes him by surprise. You were always careful with calling him by his name in an unnecessary effort to make him more comfortable; part of him wondered if you were trying to curb his own guilt. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says back. He desperately wants you to know that. You take a shuddering breath at the words. 

“This isn’t your fault,” you say it like it’s an oath, so much so that he almost believes you. But it was hard to do that when there were tears sliding down your cheeks. 

“Having you here is harder than I thought it would be,” you admitted so quietly that Bradley could barely hear you. “It’s like a part of me is missing, even though you’re right here in front of me. And I know it’s hard for you to not remember anything, and I’m being selfish-“ 

“You aren’t being selfish.”

You chuckle humorlessly, wiping away at your tears. 

“I’m serious,” he says, and his fingers itch to reach for you. “I think you may be the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You’ve done nothing but take care of me the last two weeks, even when I was in the hospital.” 

“I’ll always take care of you,” you promise, “You’re the most important person in the world to me, Bradley.” 

He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that at first, overcome with the emotions that it caused. He thinks that he would do anything for you, too. 

“I want to remember you,” he finds himself saying, and your eyes shoot to him again, startled at the words. He nods. “I’m not-I’m not good at saying how I feel. But I’ve never, ever felt like I do when I’m with you. You give me butterflies. And I have this instinctual urge to protect you and make you happy. Being around you has been the best part of everyday, even if I’m so confused the whole time.” 

You sniffle as more tears fall. 

“You say all those things about me,” he continues, “and how you’ll always take care of me. And I know I would do the same for you. Even now.”

He lets out a shaky breath, ”It’s like I know who you are right here,” he taps his hand against his chest over his heart, and you let out a small sob. He raises his hand to tap his fingers against his forehead, too. “But I think I need your help to remember you here, okay?”

“I can do that,” you hiccup, nodding rapidly. “We can do it together.”

“That sounds nice.” It really, really does. He returns your soft, watery smile, and he revels in how your eyes shine in the moonlight that had appeared, looking at him like he really was something special to you. 

“Can I -” you stop, clearing your throat and shaking your head as if you’re trying to talk yourself out of something. 

“What?” he encourages. 

“Nothing.” 

“No,” he insists, “please. Tell me.” 

“Can I ask you to do something for me?” 

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in his answer; he wants to do whatever he could for you. 

Your breathing is shaky, and your voice is as small as he had heard it since he’d opened his eyes and had no idea who you were to him. Your eyes are bright with tears and dull with heartache all at the same time, but you’re still so heartbreakingly beautiful to him. 

“You tell me everyday. Multiple times most days, and even when you’re deployed, I don’t think you’ve gone this long without saying it somehow. I’ve been wanting to hear it so bad since I got the call you were hurt, because I knew it would mean that you’re okay, and I know you aren’t okay, but you’re here and that’s all that really matters and I-” 

He whispers your name to stop your rambling, worried about how tightly you were wringing your hands together and how quickly your breaths were coming. “What is it?” 

“Can you just…tell me you love me? Please?” 

Tears spring to his eyes this time, hating himself for putting you in this situation where you ever, ever had to ask him for something like this. The him from three weeks ago would hate the him sitting here right now. Hell, current him hates himself a little bit. He pushes that hatred aside, though, because this is something he can do. You’re going through misery because of him and this is the first request you had of him.

He doesn’t stop himself this time from reaching out for you. He drops to his knees in front of the chair you were curled up in, cupping your face in his hands. You gasp softly through your tears, reaching up and gripping his wrists in your own hands. He likes to think it was because you wanted to hold him there against you. Even with your tears splashing against his skin, it feels so right, touching you like this. 

You were breathing the same air as one another. He wipes a tear away when it hit his skin. He waits until your glassy eyes lock with his own to whisper the words: “I love you.” 

And he knows, in the deepest depths of his soul, even after so little time passing since being reintroduced to you, that it’s true. He feels a peace settle over him that hadn’t been there before; a missing piece slotting into place, even if the puzzle is nowhere near complete. Saying it feels so, so right, and he can’t help but close the distance between the two of you. It’s a gentle touch, but your lips are so soft against his that he leans into it. 

There's electricity burning under his skin. 

Something flickers in his mind, like a light struggling to turn on. A burnt orange dress and a Cinderella reference, cobblestone streets and a latte that tastes better on your lips than in the cup. There’s a word right there, and he struggles for a moment to grasp onto it. But when he does, it’s like he’s seeing in color after being in a black and white movie. 

“Pumpkin,” he breathes against your lips, “I call you Pumpkin.” 

You sob, then, nodding your head. You’re so close that he can feel your nose brushing against his. You kiss him again, the salt of your tears mixing with his. Your hands move from where they had been grasping his wrists to wrap around his body and you let yourself fall into him, slipping from the chair to meet him on the ground. 

When you pull away from his kiss, you bury your face in his neck, still crying softly. He holds you against him tightly. 

“I’m right here,” he says into your hair like a promise, pressing his lips wherever he can reach, “we’ll remember everything together.”

----

Part Six :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

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[zevrra]

As I play HL a scenario keeps coming to mind. Can you write something were Slytherin MC had a crush on Ominis form day one, but Sebastian ends up confessing and dating her?

first love; late spring—

tags: a sweet request, sebastian sallow(18+) x fem!reader(18+), one-shot, pure fluff, aged-up characters, short & sweet.

creator notes: thank you for the ask!! sorry this is a little short too btw! i wanted to write more but needed to work on some other stuff as well so i might write a part 2 at some point!! also wrote this in 30 mins so i hope there’s no errors but if there are please forgive me ajshsgdkh

thanks again for the request and i hope you enjoy!! ♡

“I like you.” 

Three simple words would turn your entire world upside down. 

It had been a year since you had first arrived at Hogwarts castle to practice your magic. Learning new spells everyday to prepare yourself for your future career. After everything that’s happened to you, from finding out you have control over an ancient magic to defeating Ranrok, you could never have expected this. 

Since that first day at Hogwarts, waking up in your common room, and meeting several of your fellow peers, you had developed the biggest crush on Ominis Gaunt. He was gentle, charming, and so very kind. Even with his lack of sight it never stopped him from being a leader. If not for his ancestry you would have almost thought he could have been a Griffindor. You had swore you’d stay by his side, even if your feelings were never reciprocated. Which they hadn’t. For a very long year.   

And here was his best friend, your friend, confessing to you. Sebastian Sallow, a complete opposite from your one-sided crush. He was confident, dashing, and a little arrogant. A true prankster at heart. And because you know Sebastian, at first you think he might be joking, trying to tease you. But looking upon his freckled face now he’s more than serious. He’s determined to convey his feelings to you while you both stand outside on this chilly spring morning. 

You can’t help but think of all the times you and Sebastian had gotten close since you arrived at Hogwarts. From every cave crawl to simply attending class together. Copying his homework when you forgot yours. Sharing meals or taking several trips to Hogsmead together where your fingers accidentally touch as you reach for the same thing. It had never occurred to you that Sebastian felt this way but now the signs were more than obvious. How many times had you looked for Ominis when Sebastian had been looking for you.

“I really like you,” Sebastian repeats in a hushed tone. His fingers gently brush against the back of your hand. Almost scared to grab ahold of your hand in fear you’d reject him. “I have for…a while now.” He adds with a blush. You didn’t have to ask to know he most likely meant since the first day you two met. “So just be mine already.”

You stare at Sebastian for a moment then. Searching his face for any dishonesty but you find none.  You’re not sure of every single feeling you’re feeling at the moment but you know just a few things; he’s not lying and your heart is beating faster than it has ever done before. 

“Okay.” You whisper with a nod of your head. Butterflies buzz inside your stomach and chest as you answer. You smile at Sebastian who slightly jumps at your response. As if he was fully expecting you to say no. To storm off and leave him alone in the courtyard. You take his hand then, intertwining your fingers with his.

For a moment he just stands, looking at you in awe. It was his turn to search your face to make sure you weren’t pranking him now. “Okay.” Sebastian mimics you quietly. Still in disbelief but the smile across his face tells you he’s excited. Especially when he finally snaps out of his daze to squeeze your hand back. 

Every romantic book or poetry piece you had ever read always spoke about how spring was the time for first love. And for once your daydreaming of this moment was coming true.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Dante's Path

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Dante's Path

Pairing: Dante x Reader Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all. Author's Notes: Fucking. Finally. It took forever, but here I have around 20 pages of a demon wanting to marry the reader and Dante going feral over it. Took me ALL THIS TIME to write and I do apologize, but SO MUCH has happened since October, I'm finally managing to get my life back on track. So heeeeeey, here we have Dante's part of the Halloween Special for 2023! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand the road so far yes Supernatural fan right here and have fun!! But I do have to thank @furyeclipse - the idea came from an ask sent a thousand years ago and I've been reading her works on ao3 and that motivated™ me to write again! Be sure to check Fury's work over there!

Oh. And I highly recommend an AC/DC playlist while reading this. Just sayin'. We all know Dante is an AC/DC guy

Devil May Halloween 2023 – Dante’s Path

“You know, of all the things that could have happened to me as a hunter, getting into a forced marriage with a demon lord was the very last one I would’ve imagined.”

And you were definitely the only person in the world that could have made Kyrie laugh in a moment like that – at least, that was what she thought as she smiled for the first time since you both had stepped in that place.

It was desecrated ground, that was the reason why the demons chose such a place. An old cathedral, now turned into an abandoned set of ruins with a cemetery of forgotten souls in the back. Some stone walls still stood tall, but the roof was gone, along with some windows and part of its gothic architecture. The shroud of the darkest tones of night slowly crept over, having rows and sets of candles of all sizes as the only source of light beside the moon.

You and Kyrie were being kept in a secured room – the only with still four walls to hold you in, and a heavy set of crumbling wooden doors. You were handed wedding attires – white, as to demonstrate the purity of your human souls compared to demons – and shoved in there, forced to change before the ritual.

You tried to resist, but as soon as they threatened Kyrie, you had to abide. There was nothing you could do: you had promised Nero nothing would happen to her, and she was your weak spot that night.

“We will figure something out…” Kyrie murmured with a ghost of a smile on her soft lips, even if she didn’t carry too much hope in her heart. She knew that if you were alone, you would probably be fist-fighting demons with all your might to drag yourself out of that place, but with her by your side… She had never seen you so compliant.

“Hmmm. Yeah. I’m still trying to think of something.” You huffed, sitting by her side on a stone loveseat, having your elbows on your knees and your face cradled by your hands. “I feel naked without my stuff. So uncomfortable.”

Once again, Kyrie giggled. Indeed, it was probably the first time she ever saw you without your everyday clothes and specially without your weapons: be it your guns, your sword or even a pocketknife you carried around for emergency self-defense. She could only imagine how stripped you felt at that moment.

“Well, if it serves as consolation, this is definitely not my style.” She whispered in response, making you laugh immediately. Indeed, poor Kyrie looked like a princess covered in Chantilly. Too over-the-top for her, and you could say the same about your forced attire.

“Oh, what a mess we got ourselves into this time, huh…?” You still had that laugh in your lips, making Kyrie respond with a sad smile. “Though I bet Nero is going to die seeing you dressed as a bride.”

“He will never admit it.” Kyrie had to giggle with that mental image. She could almost see Nero standing in front of her, red as a tomato, stuttering while trying to maintain that nonchalant punk attitude he always tried to – even if Kyrie could easily see through all of that. “He does get all flustered whenever I’m wearing anything slightly bridal looking.”

“There you go. The hideous Chantilly wedding dress will have at least one good effect after all.” You sighed with a laugh, following Kyrie on her giggles as she blushed herself, happy to imagine that.

The moment wouldn’t last long, though, as you felt something shifting in the air. You immediately got up on your feet, keeping Kyrie safe and sound behind you. Her curious, scared eyes tried to pick up what was going on, but neither of you could see – you could just feel it.

With some fiery sparkles, one of the demons responsible for that mess materialized right in front of you.

“Well, well. It is good to see you are already prepared.” Horns and sharp features, but in the suit of a ruthless man – that was the best way you could describe the demon lords. They had the leathery wings, skin as rough as that of a lizard, eyes bright like flames in the dark – but something still carried the resemblance of a human being. They were tall – even taller than most doors – with sharp nails to be used as claws, fangs ready to tear throats apart. But they were built in the image of humans: something quite rare when it came to demons.

“Not out of our own free will – you shouldn’t be that pleased your minions managed to coerce us into these horrid things.” You pointed at your own attire, making Kyrie look up at you with tense eyes.

It was something she admired, to say the least. You could all look in the face of the most threatening of creatures and still manage to say something to taunt or belittle them. She wished she had that kind of courage.

“You do have a point, human.” The demon had a quick giggle in his voice, making you furrow your eyebrows slightly. It wasn’t every day one of those things would agree with your big mouth. “Come. I would very much like to speak with you.”

*

Oh. Demons and their teleportation shenanigans – to be quite honest, you hated it. Whenever you used any of their magic or even Vergil’s void thing from the Yamato, you always felt a little dizzy afterwards. It took you some quick seconds to make sense you were in what seemed to be the abandoned church’s library – in a room made of stones and rotten books, lit by decrepit candles and having just one usable table in a corner. The demon lords had clearly made that their own room for the day.

“It’s rare a demon wishes to talk.” You finally managed to say while the demon lord slowly walked towards his desk, having you in the middle of the room. Now Kyrie was alone and you had no idea what was going on with her – you had to play your cards well to see her alive again. “According to my experience, your kind prefers a bloodier approach.”

“I take it you haven’t met many demon lords then.” He had a nonchalant tone, waving his hand in disregard as he approached his desk and leaned into it, staring at you. “Nevertheless, that is more Orcus’ style.”

“Your little friend.”

“Al Pacino did play the devil once, didn’t he…?” The demon laughed in response and you did your best to cover up the shock that he understood your Scarface reference.

Movies and pop culture references with Dante were a given – the same way Vergil was an encyclopedia of forgotten and obscure texts, Dante was the go-to man when it came to movies, especially the classic ones. Making references and laughing with each other was something both of you cherished wholeheartedly – and you never thought a demon would get it.

Vergil never did – and he had to have spent some time with those guys in the last decades.

“Well, I don’t think you brought me down here just to talk about movies.” You crossed your arms, trying as much as you could to look tough in that attire. Which wasn’t going very well for you. “And it certainly wasn’t to properly ask for my hand in marriage.”

“Oh, no, no…” He answered with a laugh that crackled like fire – and you could easily see the amusement in his eyes. “I wanted to see what the son of Sparda saw in you… To bind himself to one of the weakest creatures known. Just like his father before him.”

“It’s not like Dante has married me, you know? We’re not like Eva and Sparda.” You raised one of your eyebrows. Something about that conversation was very… Weird. To put it mildly. “We’re not bonded like you want to do today. And on that note, I have to point out: marriages are quite religious. Aren’t you guys going to combust spontaneously trying to do something holy?”

“Oh, but you are bonded. He may not have chosen his father’s path, but his heart does not lie.” The demon had something quite mischievous in his eyes, and you were starting to notice the difference between him and Orcus: the second one was more of a brute, a lord of war so to speak – the one you were talking to, Erlach, was very cunning; but there was a glint of bloodthirstiness in the back of his eyes. That made him even more dangerous than you gave him credit for at first. “I shall never understand why Sparda did not wish to follow the ritual with his human. That would have made him so powerful, not even the most dangerous creatures in Hell would have dared to slaughter his family. A shame really.” He tossed aside a charred painting of Sparda and Eva: old, barely holding itself together, but still clearly depicting the couple holding hands and smiling to whoever decided to look upon them. “We do have our own rituals – and demons are no strangers to marriages. It has another name in Hell, though, it is a binding ritual: where souls connect and one can be made more from the other’s power.”

“Oh. So the other just accepts it’s going to be a puny little thing beside their partner? Sounds more like slavery to me.” You wouldn’t give the demon the benefit of the doubt nor make it all sound so wonderful. Anything related to devils always had a catch – and that had to be the catch to their own twisted version of a ‘marriage’.

And in all honesty, you weren’t looking forward to be made a slave to a demon lord.

“Some creatures enjoy that.” And the smile that covered Erlach’s lips could be only considered devilish. You did your best not to look like you were agreeing – even if you knew, deep down, that yes, some people did enjoy that. “Every con has its pro. With the binding and forfeit of power, comes protection and status. Few would want to desecrate the partner of a powerful demon – it could easily be the last thing they would do.”

“if I am bonded to Dante, then, I wonder why would someone like you decide to mess with the chosen partner of the son of Sparda.” Now you had a small smile hidden in the corner of your lips, slightly raising your head in hubris. You wouldn’t lie: the status you got from him among demons was always very welcome. “Not that I really need him to help me. If I had my weapons, you would all be laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood – and I’d be home celebrating Halloween with him.”

Erlach stared into your eyes for a good four seconds before opening a threatening smile with his sharp fangs. His own eyes burned like fire, but you never let his gaze go – it wasn’t in you to be scared by the likes of him. You had seen worse, you had fought worse… And only you knew how threatening Dante’s eyes could look when he was half asleep in a nightmare of his young years with you trying to wake him up so he could have some peace. That was worse than any demon you could ever face.

“Indeed, that is why I needed some leverage against you.” He waved his hand nonchalantly towards the door and you immediately understood he was talking about Kyrie. “It was never my intention to allow Orcus to bond to some creature as powerful as mine… But I did not knew the extent of your powers, so I needed something to keep you in line. Luckily, Sparda’s grandson is not as attuned to powerful partners as Sparda’s children.”

You furrowed your brows. Whenever you talked between the members of the crew, there was a tacit agreement Kyrie was indeed the most powerful of all – for her ability to love openly, to cry, to be vulnerable and to care with such an open heart.

But those abilities were inherently human – and appreciated in humans rather than demons. In the human point of view, Kyrie was stronger than all of you together, and no one could argue against that. But in the demonic point of view… You and Lady were top of the list when it came to being able to take demons in a fair fight.

But you… You had Dante’s heart.

“It was part of our bargain. But I would never allow Orcus to bind to the most powerful of partners, would I?” Again, that smile painted his lips. You remained in the middle of the room, holding his gaze, not even flinching as he approached you. “I must admit, though, I never thought you would have this… Fire.”

As Erlach stopped with a few inches from your own face, you didn’t recoil. You remained with your arms crossed, standing as tall as you could in front of that huge demon lord as his fiery eyes just stared deeply into yours – and you stared back.

But you sensed something… Different. In his words, in his gaze. You wanted to furrow your brows as you were slowly coming to realize something, but you did your best to remain as proud and emotionless as you could – and Erlach took note of that. A pleasurable note.

“I can see what the son of Sparda saw in you.” That devilish smile colored his lips once more as the demon took another step towards you. It took you a great amount of willpower not to step back. You would never step back. “When demons bind with demons, it is one sort of marriage. When demons bind with humans, on Samhein, with the correct ritual… Well, it is a very different thing. A kind of binding never seen before – and never attempted, not even by Sparda.” Erlach approached with another step, making you raise your head even higher. Every fiber of your being wanted to scream Dante’s name and watch your red devil storm inside that room and suplex Erlach face first on the floor – as he deserved. The demon lord, though, offered one hand to you, palm facing up. “At first, I targeted you for Dante would not take a weakling as a partner, but now… I am more than inclined to take you as mine. With me, you would have the protection and status of royalty in Hell. We can take over entire worlds. And they would all be mine and yours to rule.” You just kept staring at him as Erlach’s fiery eyes stared even more deeply into yours. “You just have to say yes.”

To say your head was spinning was an understatement. What a wild ride that night was becoming – and something inside you stirred, telling you it would become even wilder. Were you reading his words right…? His gestures…? Not that Erlach was being subtle about it, he was being as blunt as his kind could be, but… Were you going crazy? You were, probably. That was a more plausible explanation than what you had to admit yourself – than what you were living right at that moment.

“If you think I’d give up Dante for power, then you can see nothing he saw in me.” You spat back, still holding your head high. “You are just as clueless as the rest of your kind.”

Erlach laughed back – not a laugh of an evil demon as you were used to, but one of delight. He… Enjoyed your answer…?

“The more you speak, the more I see.” He finally chuckled, stepping back after one last stare. “And I will see you later.”

With a snap of his fingers, you were back to the cold, abandoned crypt you and Kyrie were being held hostages. As your dizziness faded and you came back to reality, you saw her holding one of your hands, checking if you were ok with one of her palms on your forehead. Even if you didn’t feel lightheaded anymore, your mind was still troubled – and you had to sit down on the stone loveseat you shared with Kyrie earlier.

“Are you ok, y/n? What happened?” She sat by your side, big hazelnut eyes staring at you with warmth and humanity – so much different from the fiery pit of Erlach’s eyes. So much more welcoming and cozier. So much more like home. You would’ve hugged her if you weren’t so disoriented. “Y/n. What did he do to you? What happened?!”

“I think…” You finally managed to put into words what just happened – even if you didn’t want to say what you thought out loud. It seemed that by saying it, a sort of magic would make it become true. “I think… A demon lord just fell in love with me.”

You and Kyrie just stared at each other in horror, not even knowing what to say.

“What the hell…?!”

And Kyrie finally managed to put into words what you had been thinking the whole time.

*

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Nico just stared at Lady as Dante growled while mounting on his bike.

To be fair, Nico wasn’t the safest person to be behind a wheel, even more in a dire situation like that with Nero by her side looking like he was about to bite ankles and throw punches – but something about Dante looking like he was about to burst into flames while viciously riding the Cavaliere and growling in a half-distorted demon voice was enough to get the gunsmith ever so slightly… Concerned.

“Everything ok there, Dante, or do we need to take you in the van?” Lady screamed out her window, while Nico hoped the bright red glint in Dante’s eyes was only her imagination. “You look like you wanna beat me in a race! We hunt demons to save humans, not run them over, you know?”

“Eh, demon spidey-sense is tinglin’, Lady! That’s no good!” Dante screamed back, doing his best to keep the demonic part of his voice repressed inside his chest. He would have more than enough opportunities to let that explode. “Y/n is unsafe. I can feel it. And I…” With that, Dante drove to the back of the van because of a narrowing road, only to come back a few seconds later. “Don’t…” Another interruption for Dante not to run over a citizen cluelessly crossing the street and almost being run over by Nico. “Like it!”

His last phrase couldn’t keep the distortion in anymore and it sounded like a deep roar that came out of his chest like fire. Trish could already see the fangs in his bared teeth: those demons were in for the fight of a lifetime, for everyone knew making Dante’s lover feel unsafe was one of the worst sins in the Sparda dictionary.

Nico opened her mouth to talk to Nero – because, maybe, he could beat some sense into his uncle’s head, given they had the very same heritage – but for the first time she just put the cigarette between her lips and decided to shut up.

She was still getting used to Nero’s new trigger, so the halfway-into-turning state was something Nico didn’t really know how to deal with. By this point, Nero’s nails were definitely claws and his fangs were very much similar to Dante’s. He was fidgeting everywhere, messing with Blue Rose, as if something was really wrong with the gun and he had to fix it – a thousand fucking times. Nico could also swear his eyes were starting to glow with an inhumane gold tinge and that was very alien to her.

“Hey, kid! What about your spidey-sense tingling? Anything new?” Luckily for Nico, she had Trish around – and that woman was a pure devil, so there were very few things she feared. They all knew Nero was getting used to his own new powers, so Trish always decided to stay around and lend a hand whenever Nero had to go through something emotionally heavy – she knew it herself that demon instinct always came crashing like a wild wave whenever emotions were running high.

“Eh, she’s not good too, Trish. Worried as heck, I can feel it.” Nero mumbled under his breath, fixing the barrels of the Blue Rose for the tenth time, probably – not even needing to mention he was talking about Kyrie. With a click, the gun cocked back to its original state and Nero turned his now slightly golden aquamarine eyes to the devil leaning on his seat. “And I don’t like it either. Not at fucking all.”

Nico had to say, it always sent shivers down her spine when Nero spoke with his demonic voice like that. She was used to him being her goofy sort of brother, bickering with her down the road and tossing over-the-top, smart mouthed taunts to demons. Hearing him like that was… Something else. And Nico didn’t like it that much as well.

*

The last time you felt unsafe seemed like a whole lifetime ago.

You tried to control your hands as they wanted to start shaking – but you kept telling yourself you needed to keep Kyrie safe. After all, you were the devil hunter, not her. Kyrie could kill every single one in the crew with kindness, but not those devils… Those had to be killed with blades and gunpowder.

Being with Dante had given you something you never really had before, and just now you noticed it was tied to your red devil: safety. Even if he wasn’t around physically, you could always count on the fact that Dante, son of Sparda, Crimson Slayer, would bend Hell itself around his will to keep you from any kind of harm. It had never downed on you because, up until that point, that was a given.

Today, Halloween of all days, was a little more complicated. Dante wasn’t around, the whole ritual was bound to have some heavy magic to keep him at bay, you were completely unarmed and the demons you were up against were another kind – not the stupid, belligerent type you handled almost on a daily basis; no, those were smart, cunning and dangerous.

To top all of that, you had Kyrie on your side. If you were alone, you’d probably already be trying some unhinged escape attempts, but they were so smart on deciding to kidnap her as well. She was your weak spot on that situation and the fact that you felt unsafe and couldn’t do your best to protect her, only highlighted the fear you started to feel creeping up at the base of your stomach.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, the only thing that could at least try to calm your nerves was to imagine being back in Dante’s arms, at the Devil May Cry, the smell of warm pizza around and him humming some old tunes you both loved. That was home. That was your haven. Dante was your refuge, keeping you secure from every evil thing that could attack you in this world, and he wasn’t there.

For a split second, you wondered if he could feel how much your heart was aching – screaming with all its might in the hopes he would hear its call.

Suddenly, two demons entered the room you and Kyrie were being held. They didn’t have to say much: with swords pointed at both of you and the heavy doors wide open, you knew it was time. Knowing you had to calm your nerves so at least she could have a chance to escape, you got up and calmly walked in front of Kyrie – head high and staring those demons right back in their eyes.

“Everything will be ok.” You murmured back over your shoulder, knowing Kyrie would listen. “If you find a safe chance to run, do it and don’t look back. I can handle them better alone.”

You felt Kyrie’s soft hands brushing on one of yours, her voice nothing but a whisper. “Don’t put yourself in danger, y/n. I don’t wanna run without you.”

You closed your eyes, chuckling a little in silence. She was indeed an angel among so many demons – including all of you in the crew. “Oh, Kyrie. You have to learn… The whole crew would die for you, don’t you know that already…?” And even if your words weren’t the kindest, you had the sweetest tone in your voice – saying nothing but the truth. “You run. It’ll take more than a few demons to bring me down.”

Kyrie knew you were lying only to make her feel safer – there was a tinge of bitterness in your sweetness, a slight glint of sadness in your eyes. Those were more than a few demons, and both of you knew it.

She could only sigh in response and confirm with her head. You and Dante were bittersweetly so alike: always lying and pretending nothing was too serious, putting yourselves on the line for those you loved, trying to make them stop worrying while you were both ready to walk right into certain death. She had seen how angry you got every time he tried to pull something like that on you – and Kyrie had to smile even if a little bit upon realizing how similar you and your lover were, even if you hated when he did that.

Both of your thoughts had to be violently changed and brought back to the present moment when the time came to enter what one day was a beautiful, untarnished cathedral. The imposing gothic architecture was in shambles, the stars shining clearly in the deep night sky above your heads – the high peaks of the cathedral long gone. A long tapestry on the ground, torn apart and eaten by parasites, lead the way in a dirty blood red to the middle of the aisle, where a grandiose bonfire stood and lit none other than your groom.

That was definitely not the devil you had intended to marry if you ever walked down the aisle. Also, you always thought if you ever married Dante, the ceremony would be in the Devil May Cry: you would enter the shop, dressed in your best hunting clothes – maybe something leather, carefully picked by Trish to make you even more mesmerizing – watching Dante smiling at you, leaning on his desk, arms crossed and love pouring from his eyes.

That was the perfect marriage for you alright. And leaving for a quick honeymoon with your red devil, riding on the Cavaliere, a few cans tied to it with a “just married” sign on the back, waving at the crew at the door of the shop while Dante made the motorcycle burn the road with its demonic power? More than perfect.

“You shall enter first. The other human stays until your ritual is performed.” One of the demons held Kyrie hostage, pointing your way down the derelict aisle. Her eyes were filled with fear, and you couldn’t do anything but comply.

Holding your head high, you walked down the damned aisle. Not like a perfect fiancé, but like a wronged force of nature, just waiting for the right time to unleash your fury against all those demons. You were wearing those ridiculous clothes, on that ridiculous place, while demons started chanting and playing a song for the demonic ritual that had just started, stripped of your guns, blades and clothes.

To say you wanted to sucker punch Erlach on his face until his sharp teeth fell out was an understatement.

And yet, he had nothing but admiration and fire in his eyes for you. The more you approached, the more he smiled, offering you his hand as you were getting closer and closer – you refused to take it, standing in front of him just like you did when he first talked to you.

“You know, the kidnapping and taking my gear away, I could forgive. But these clothes…?” You pointed down at that hideous thing that was forced to you. “You could’ve done better. A lot better.”

“I judged you by all the mortals I’ve ever met – and now I realize I shouldn’t have done so. Do apologize, exquisite creature.” And Erlach answered your insult with a delighted distorted laugh. You just remained there, looking like you had just stuck a flip flop into a toaster, not knowing what to do. It seemed that the more you tried to repel him, the more Erlach liked you. “But rituals shouldn’t be taken lightly. One should wear the proper attire.”

“To think a demon would’ve dressed his counterpart a lot better and risqué than this…” You sighed, pushing all those ruffles away from your face as he, once more, tried to take your hand and guide you to approach the bonfire. “I thought this was going to be a dual wedding. Where’s your friend?”

“Orcus can try to pull off his ritual after I’m done with mine.” Erlach had a devilish smile pulling his lips up in a distorted line. It was a little… Unsettling. “We… Agreed such a powerful ritual should be done one at a time.”

“Huh. That’ll be before or after you kill him?” You had one eyebrow lifted and Erlach laughed with joy in his voice, now finally forcing you to walk with him towards the bonfire. “You got quite the silver tongue to convince him you’re gonna let him go through with his ritual with his head still on his shoulders.”

“Oh, my dear, you have no idea.” Erlach forced you to spin around and look deep into his eyes, holding you by both of your arms in an iron clasp you couldn’t break away easily without your weapons. “You are very welcome to discover soon enough. I am mesmerized with your cunning and wit – so much better than all those pitiful uninspired creatures I have to live with every day. We will be quite a pair, sweet temptation.”

That admiration was there, that fire burning in his eyes, and… Lust…?! You had to contain a shiver of pure terror thinking a creature like that lusted for you. It wasn’t necessarily his appearance – you did find Dante one hell of a piece of temptation in whatever form he was, be it human, Devil Trigger or even his Sin Devil Trigger – but his soul. Erlach lacked the very thing that made you fall madly and hopelessly for Dante: his golden heart, his gentle soul, his kind eyes and his unapologetic humanity.

That was why it didn’t matter how Dante looked like: you would always fall in love with him. Even if he was just a piece of rock with googly eyes laying on his desk, you would love that rock with all your heart.

“What if I refuse to be your pair?” You had one of your eyebrows raised, trying to hide the fear creeping at the base of your stomach. “As far as I know, all marriages require a resounding yes from both parts. What are you gonna do? Torture me?”

“As tempting as that sounds…” And even if you didn’t show it, your blood certainly froze in your veins for a second. “I fear you would take a very long time to break under such circumstances. The Son of Sparda chose you for your brave heart and hardened soul, I can see that now. Luckily for demonic rituals, the sacrifices don’t need to consent.”

“Oh. I thought I was more than just a disposable piece of meat. I’m hurt.” Masking your fear with jokes and taunts, you had learned that with the very best. Dante had all the blame for that.

“Don’t be, my creature.” Erlach’s words were laced with a laugh while he took a ceremonial dagger from an altar nearby. “That is how humans are usually named in our rituals. You will remain alive, or else, it doesn’t work. I do need your blood… A reasonable amount, but nothing lethal.”

His hand clasped your wrist with a tight grip you couldn’t break from. Your heart started beating faster and faster, as you looked around trying to find Kyrie – crossing her terrified eyes as she watched from the distance, close to the entrance where once was a door, fearing for your life. You wanted to mutter some soothing words for her, but not even you could lie that much: your survival instincts kicked in and your adrenaline spiked. It was now or never, but you had to escape.

Erlach held your arm above a bowl made of pure gold, now darkened with time and stained with all the sacrifices it contained. He spoke some words in demonic language, while the chanting got even more intense – some things you could understand, but the others were lost as your mind became hazy with trying to think what to do.

It was a surprise to all – you closed your free hand in a fist and did exactly what you wanted to do since you saw that hideous thing you were wearing: sucker punch that conceited demon right on his face.

Erlach was taken aback for a moment, looking back at you with confused eyes. Seizing his distraction, you disarmed him and took the ceremonial dagger to yourself, cutting his hand that held your wrist and demanding him to let you go. Erlach stumbled back in awe, while you took a fighting stance with the dagger in your hand, ready to kill – but not ready to get married.

And he smiled.

“Such fire…!” To say Erlach was ecstatic was an underestimation. “My creature… What are you going to do with that?” And he took a predator stance, as both of you studied your options in that fight.

If you could look back at Kyrie, you would see her smiling and supporting you as much as she could. To say she admired you, was to say you only liked Dante.

“I am going to kill every single demon in this cathedral… Including you.” Pointing the dagger at Erlach, it was your turn to allow a devilish smile to cover your lips. “Then, I’m taking my friend back home. Back into the arms of the only devil I will ever love. Back to Dante.”

As you spoke, you didn’t even hear a ragged guitar faintly playing in the background – and approaching ominously. The only thing you had in mind was a tunnel focus on Erlach, ready to tear him apart as soon as he got close to you.

“Oh, I will enjoy that, my creature. And I might even need to get rid of Dante myself.” As soon as he finished his sentence, though, you scoffed in a laughter of pure mockery.

“Now that, you would try. Dante is so much more than you will ever be – he will reduce you to ashes with a single stare. That’s how pitiful you are compared to him, Erlach.” As your words poured, you couldn’t stop laughing at how he looked slightly insulted. Fucking finally. “And I gotta say, that’s not the only thing Dante is really good at. He does burn like fire.”

“I will enjoy subduing you.” Erlach growled, baring his teeth. Now you managed to piss him off.

“I will enjoy watching you try.” You wouldn’t allow him too much time to think: spinning the blade in your hand for a better grip, you finally tried to stab him with a swift attack – but he easily dodged as you got even angrier at that ridiculous clothing you were wearing. Those frills and terrible fabric made your movement a lot debilitated.

You tried a few other attacks as Erlach dodged and started smiling again, enjoying every bit of it – starting to even try a few attacks, while you blocked with the dagger. It was all too fast… At the same pace of the guitar that now echoed loudly, with a very familiar song approaching the chorus.

“Now, my creature.” Erlach held your hand with the dagger when you tried another stab. Even if you were resisting, it was more entertaining than anything else: you needed your gear. He pulled you closer to him, even if you tried to stay away as much as you could. “It’s time to stop the fun. We can do this after the ritual.”

Before any of you could do anything else, the guitar finally arrived – with the screeching of what seemed a thousand tires, the smell of gasoline and the sound of a shot from a gun you knew so well.

Said shot hit the dagger, making it shatter into a thousand little pieces in your hand, causing Erlach to let go of you in a reflex – while AC/DC’s vocalist screamed he would shoot to thrill, play to kill.

“Well, I think we’re all ready for the afterparty, aren’t we, hot stuff?”

Dante had entered down the aisle with Cavaliere screeching, leaving a trail of fire behind him, stopping right in the middle to shoot that ceremonial dagger into oblivion. The smoke was still fresh on the barrel of his gun, while he had one foot on the ground, still mounted on his motorcycle, smirking at you with that gorgeous smile that, today, you wanted to kiss out of his mouth with so much passion the crew would probably have to throw a whole bucket of water on both of you to put out the fire.

And, right behind him, Nico crashed what was left of the cathedral’s door while blasting AC/DC’s Shoot to Thrill because she would be damned if she didn’t put a good soundtrack for that moment. You could see her smiling behind the wheel, supporting every single bit of Dante’s antics.

The smile that painted your lips – a broad one, mixed with thrill and relief – was everything Dante wanted to see. That was all the confirmation he needed to know that pull in his chest was actually your heart desperately calling for him to help.

“Ya know, I could forgive the kidnapping, you got one hell of a devil hunter in your hands to deal with…” Dante now let go of Cavaliere, leaving it in the middle of the cathedral, walking down the aisle with the sassy walk you always loved to see – moving his hips and opening his arms, taunting with a pretended carefree attitude. The distortion in his voice, sharp teeth and claws betrayed his words, though – and you couldn’t be happier. “But what’s the deal with those clothes?!”

“Exactly.” You smiled back, sighing as if someone there finally understood you. Erlach just looked at you and back at Dante trying to contain his surprise – it wasn’t possible you were synchronized in even that. “I can barely move, how am I supposed to kick his ass?”

“I can help ya with that, pretty eyes.” Dante’s voice now became darker, leaning even further into his Devil Trigger. For a split second, you could swear you saw his demonic form taking over before Dante appeared again. His eyes were almost entirely taken by red, his hand already gripping the hilt of Rebellion. “But I gotta deal with a few of these clowns first.”

“I’m not going anywhere, hot stuff.” You had the proudest of smiles on your lips as the demons started to approach, ready to fight your red devil. “Show them what a real party looks like.”

“Ya don’t have to ask twice!”

“What are you all waiting for?!” As soon as Erlach screamed, the demons ran towards Dante as a pack of rabid creatures, ready to take his blood. Erlach smiled with pride as they surrounded the Crimson Slayer, already pouncing to take a bite – there was no way a hybrid could take so many demons at once in a fight.

Looking at the crew’s van, you managed to see Lady leaning by the vehicle, watching it all with excitement but refusing to get into the fight. You almost laughed upon seeing Trish holding Nero’s jacket while he tried to let himself go from her iron tight grip, probably saying he should be in the fight too – but his eyes weren’t locked on Dante or the swarming demons: Nero was looking for Kyrie.

And you would’ve done the same, finally questioning yourself where they were keeping her after all that confusion took over the ritual. Nero could very well let himself go of Trish, but everyone knew he had his own priority – a priority you couldn’t find, and that fact started worrying you.

You would have given that a better thought if a sudden fiery explosion hadn’t sent demons flying around the cathedral like fireworks. Dante’s Devil Trigger was on, but not his normal one… It was his Sin Devil Trigger in all his demonic glory, with leathery wings hovering him from the floor and Devil Sword Dante burning like fire in his hands.

To say that would be a slaughter… Again, would be putting it lightly. With the masterfully chosen soundtrack by Nico blasting on the background, Dante single handedly slayed all the demons that decided to cross between you and him. You risked a side look to Erlach, only to find the demon astonished by Dante’s form and power – and you couldn’t resist. You leaned on the altar next to you, with a matter-of-fact look in your eyes.

“He usually has this effect on people… And demons.” You had to say it. You just couldn’t refrain from taunting and annoying that silly devil who forced you to wear those terrible wedding clothes.

With the Devil Sword Dante dripping blood, the son of Sparda approached as he slayed all the demons that tried to fight. Dante was a frightening powerhouse – usually terrifying, but today even more… After all, the human he loved most in all dimensions was kidnapped by a conceited demon who thought he would have the chance to bind his beloved in a marriage ritual without their consent. Dante was beyond angry.

“It will only be an obstacle, then.” Erlach turned his eyes back to you. “Don’t think for a second I gave up, my creature. If I have to kill the son of Sparda, I will do so – with the power you will grant me with your blood.”

Once again, the demon held your arm – but this time, digging the nails into your skin, making you scream with the sudden pain. That made Dante immediately turn to you, being hit as well and inundating the cathedral with the smell of the blood of Sparda. His fighting became sloppy as he tried to approach you even faster – but it also became even more vicious.

Erlach dragged you back to the sacrificial bowl, as you tried to get away. Even with your fighting, your limited movements weren’t helping too much. As he extended your arm above the bowl, you managed to see – behind him, in the distance, covered in shadows – Orcus holding Kyrie hostage, searching everywhere for a breech so he could finish his ritual before Erlach.

“Nero! Kyrie is over there! Go kick his ass, kid!” You screamed while fighting so Erlach couldn’t drip your blood into the bowl. Yes, he needed more than a few drops from the gashes from his claws – but he could make them bigger once you were in a decent position. And you didn’t want to give him that.

“Kyrie! I’m coming for you!” And finally, after his aquamarine eyes found Kyrie’s plea for help, Nero did let go of Trish with ease – and the she-devil didn’t even try to hold him back. With just a smile on her face, the woman looked back at Lady and they knew it was time to intervene now that both of you were located and they wouldn’t risk any of your lives.

Amidst all that, with Dante literally burning his way towards you while being held back by three demons, a few invisible cuts made them fall apart and gush blood all over the floor. Vergil entered the cathedral, while carrying an old book you saw at Erlach’s office earlier that night – the book with all the ancient, and most forbidden, devilish incantations.

“Go on, Dante. I’ll take it from here.” Vergil barely looked at the demons he was fighting with: holding the book with one hand and being assisted by summoned swords, he only needed a few well placed judgement cuts to get rid of all those nuisances.

Dante didn’t even think twice after hearing his brother’s words. Marching down the aisle, he approached you and Erlach like a death omen – his demonic form in his ultimate Devil Trigger was enough to inspire respect even in the upper echelon of Hell.

And you had to say, you were proud of that.

“Let y/n go, Erlach.” As Dante commanded, you couldn’t fail to notice his voice was slightly… Different. The more he approached, the more his voice sounded less distorted and more human. “Ya know, for a demon with such a pretentious plan, you’d think you’d put up more of a difficult fight.” And when Dante stopped right in front of the altar between you both, he was completely human – looking at you with the sky blue eyes you loved so much. “I’m barely breakin’ a sweat.”

If Erlach’s claws weren’t deep into your skin, you would’ve locked your arms around his neck already, taking in his scent and calming down your heart. Yes, Dante would be smelling of gunpowder, blood and sweat, but that was still his scent. It was enough to make you feel secure again.

“Indeed. I underestimated you.” Erlach’s claws dug out of your skin, making you retreat quickly. You managed to see a little commotion where Kyrie and Nero were before, but with everything that was happening, you couldn’t quite make the moment where Orcus was nowhere to be seen – all you could be sure was that Kyrie was safe, back into Nero’s arms. And that was enough. “It seems like the blood of Sparda still thrives to this day.”

“Yeah, yeah, daddy’s blood and all that…” Dante rolled his eyes, shooting near Erlach’s feet. The demon jumped back, farther away from you – and that made you smile. “Spit it out, spook. How did you find out ‘bout the ritual? Where did ya get that book?”

“Apparently you never heard of a library. On that aspect, I win, my creature.” Erlach still had that weird admiration in his eyes for you, making you wince. You never gave him a single reason to like you. Demons had to be masochist creatures.

“Oh, I heard about those alright. It just so happens my brother here has spent a very long vacation time in Hell and lemme tell ya…” With those words, Dante finally took Erlach by his neck, leaning the demon over the sacrificial bowl and touching the blade of Rebellion on his neck. Dante usually didn’t get that feral… But Erlach had tried him a little bit too much that night. “He doesn’t have very nice words about you and your little friends. Those rituals aren’t well known in detail. Something gave you that book. Who?”

It wasn’t a side of Dante you liked to see, but, when dealing with those kinds of demons, it was a necessary one. Erlach, as far as you could tell, wasn’t just your dumb daily demon – he was in the upper echelon. And said echelon only became worse the higher the rank.

“You would love to know, wouldn’t you?” Erlach laughed even if the sword already started to nick some blood out of his thick demonic skin. “You will have to let me go to get your answer. If you don’t, no deal.”

You closed your eyes, sighing. Erlach was the deal kind of demon. And it was always a slippery slope with those silver tongue devils.

Dante knew that as well. His heart screamed at him to kill Erlach and let his blood run over the floor of the cathedral – to take you home safely and let you know that threat would never loom over you again.

But they needed answers. Only very high rank demons would have access to that kind of book – to those kinds of rituals. Demons like Sparda… Like Mundus. And that was something none of them wanted as a threat. The single thought of the possibility of Mundus being alive made him shiver and his blood boil. His house burned in his childhood, his family slaughtered like animals, his past stained in blood and sulfur. He didn’t want that to happen again. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Not to anyone in the crew, not to his nephew, not to his brother… Not to you.

Dante let Erlach go. The demon cracked his neck, gaining his posture once again. You stood by Dante’s side, ready to suplex Erlach into oblivion if he tried anything funny.

“The two of you already have what you need to know the answer.” Erlach pointed at the book in Vergil’s hands, moving his gaze back to you soon after. “I will have you as mine, y/n. You have my word, sweet creature.”

Before you could do anything in response, Erlach set himself ablaze in flames that kept burning for a few seconds while he disappeared back to where he came from – probably Hell, if you had to guess.

“Eh. We should’ve known he would leave without giving us a decent answer.” You sighed, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that night, knowing all demons were dead and you were around safe people again.

“And even shamelessly flirtin’ with ya, what’s up with that…?”

“No idea, red devil. I did my best for him to hate me; apparently it backfired tremendously.”

You finally turned to look at each other. Both of you looked tired, completely out of energy – you, from your human body; Dante from the toll all that fiery explosion of anger and demonic heritage could take on him. His eyes, though… Those sky blue eyes, looked at you with the human kindness you always longed for – with the admiration and fire of a lover, but the gentleness of a soul who was not only your mate, but your home.

You felt safe again. All that insecurity, that fear, that horror of being alone and having to fight on your own – to survive on your own – it washed away in that infinite blue sky. He was your home, and you were safe. Nothing bad would ever happen to you, for Dante was there to catch you and hold you in his arms until you felt you could walk with certainty again.

“I heard you, pretty eyes…” Dante murmured, taking a strand of hair out of your dirty face, watching with amusement as you furrowed your brows. He took one of his hands over his heart, eyes looking into yours. “I heard you here.”

A gradual smile lit up your face as you understood what he had said. That pull, that thing you did, of closing your eyes and praying he would find you… It worked. Of course it worked. And you couldn’t be happier, with all that pouring like a golden fountain from your heart, making your eyes laminate with a few tears and threaten to overflow.

“I’m glad you did, cowboy.” You approached him, cradling his face with your hands and leaning him down so his forehead could touch yours. “I’m glad you did. I prayed so loud for you.”

With that, you took his hand to touch your heart, in the hopes he would once again listen – but this time hear the golden tunes it sang along the overflow. The frills of the ridiculous attire didn’t allow him to find your beat, though.

“Well, I told ya I’d get rid of that, right?” Dante sighed, staring down at that horrid attire – although he would argue you could never look bad. Even with that thing on. “Ei! All of ya, look away! I’m puttin’ y/n out of their misery!”

“What…?”

Before you could finish asking, though, Dante masterfully moved Rebellion around you – while everyone turned away or closed their eyes. Lady and Trish, though, just kept staring at that goof of a man you called your lover. Within a few seconds, those terrifying wedding clothes tore apart, pooling around your feet on the floor while you just stared back at your red devil – the chilly air of the night all around your bare skin.

“That was hot.” You had to say it while Dante quickly checked you out like the masterpiece he always thought you were.

“Not as hot as you, babe.” With a wink, Dante took off his red coat, wrapping it around you and making you warm again.

You loved wearing Dante’s coat. It was definitely too big for you, but it was always warm – that night, you could almost say it seemed like it was enveloped in flames. But it had his scent all over it and it fit like a huge cape you could almost drag on the ground. You couldn’t have asked for a better attire for that evening.

“Hey.” As you called for his attention, those blue eyes rested on you again, little by little settling all that restlessness that whole ordeal had set in your soul. And, since words weren’t enough, you once again cradled his face with your hands, this time placing a well-deserved kiss on your lover’s lips.

Dante giggled between your lips, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to lift you off the floor – making it easier for you to kiss him unapologetically. You never saw yourself as a damsel in distress, and you would have killed every demon in that room with a dagger and your teeth if it was necessary, but it wasn’t. And that was so new: you could always count on Dante to be there for you, to protect you and to be a place for you to fall whenever you lost your balance.

Your heart stopped screaming and Dante’s soul found peace again.

*

“Ah, I see Nero stole Dante’s idea.”

As you saw Kyrie leaving the van’s bathroom wearing nothing but Nero’s coat, she smiled happily back at you while showing it off as soon as you pointed that out. You were sitting in the van, still in the red coat – Dante would know only later that decision would cost him his sanity while trying to get his coat back from you. A few chases and him gripping you tight to get his coat back was in store for the rest of that night.

“It was a very good idea.” Kyrie had a mischievous smile on her lips, blushing a little bit while grabbing the collar of Nero’s coat and taking in the scent. “It smells like him. It feels like he’s always around.”

“I know what you mean.” You smiled proudly as an answer, barely noticing Nico staring at both of you while Lady and Trish giggled.

“Ya know what she means…? That coat is nasty!” Nico pointed at the blue coat enveloping the crew’s little angel, making you laugh a little bit more. “And yours?! If Nero’s coat is bad, Dante’s even worse! Looks like he just blasted from the insides of a frog demon or somethin’! And you say it has his scent?!” The gunsmith couldn’t be more revolted at yours and Kyrie’s antics.

“That’s Dante’s scent for ya...” You sighed, leaning back on the van’s seat – something quite red devilish like. “Gunpowder, demon’s blood and sweat. When he’s clean, though, it’s more of a woody and musky with a hint of pizza kind of scent. Sometimes strawberries.”

“Apparently, love doesn’t make us only blind, it makes our sense of smell completely absent.” Trish strutted her way towards the seat she always took in the van, across from you, having a complacent smile on her devil lips.

“It makes us more tolerant.” Kyrie sat by your side, completely happy to be wearing Nero’s clothes and safe and sound with the crew again. “That is a thing most people need to learn more about.”

“As always, angel Kyrie is right.” Lady sighed, taking her spot inside the van – after lightly elbowing Nico just to tease the gunsmith. “Just like we tolerate the smell of your cigarettes.”

“Hey, at least I’m not turning into a fuming creature blasting demon viscera everywhere!” Nico pointed at Lady with her cigarette between her fingers, making all of you laugh. “Must take days to get those things off your hair!”

“Sometimes, it takes even weeks!” Dante’s voice added from outside of the van, entering soon after to take his seat right by your side. To say Dante would be hovering around you for months, overly protecting you over anything and everything, was a very mild way to describe his behavior after that evening.

“Ya know, once I found a piece of liver hidden right behind my ear…?” Nero approached Nico as she just glared at him with pure disgust. “Took me days to find it.”

“You’re nasty, demon boy.” Nico lightly shoved Nero out of the way, dismissing all that conversation to go back to the stirring wheel. Nero laughed back, making his way to Kyrie and sitting by her side, cradling her with one of his arms while she rested her head on his chest.

“We couldn’t find more on the origin of their knowledge…” Vergil was the last one to board, closing the van’s door behind him. As soon as he did, Nico started driving back home – and he showed you a few things he had in his hands. “But we did find your gear. I will keep it in a safe place until we get back to the shop.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Verge!” You had genuine relief in your voice, watching as he carefully placed your sword next to him. “I thought I’d never see those things again. Thanks for finding them.”

As always, Vergil didn’t answer, just bowed his head as the perfect gentleman he was. Soon, Dante’s arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

“Huh, so much thankfulness for Vergil, while I was the one who saved your ass from that demon lord. I’m feeling a little ignored.” Of course, you knew Dante was only joking – never in all your time together you picked up any sign of jealousy he could have of you and Vergil. Dante was very secure about your relationship, knowing quite well where your heart rested – he would be insecure, sometimes, when it came to other humans.

“Oh, c’mon. How can I not be thankful when it’s my gear we’re talking about?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him back – which only made Dante smile. “Now being a little more serious, it was rough being stripped of everything. Even with that hideous frilly attire, I felt completely naked. There’s no way for me to defend myself without all my stuff; I don’t have demonic blood running through my veins to go into a rampage and kill every single living thing in front of me.”

“Well, lucky for you, I got that goin’ for me.” Dante brought you even closer, tightening his half hug around you.

“Hmmm…” You took some time to take in his scent, this time directly from his neck, right in front of you. Yes, all those things you mentioned before, but you could always find the woody and musky Dante scent underneath all of that. And maybe it was that which made you feel so comfortable and secure. “I was scared. I was running out of options when you showed up.”

“Shhh, don’cha think ‘bout that, pretty eyes.” Whenever you voiced how uncomfortable you were with something, Dante immediately started caressing you just to at least make you feel physically comfortable again. And you had to say, it always worked.

“I know, I know… It’s just… I know I can always count on you to appear at the direst of moments, no matter where I am.” With those words, you placed one of your hands above his heart, making those sky blue eyes look back into yours. “I know you can hear me call, no matter what.”

“It’s part of the demon thing, babe.” Even though he was happy with that, Dante had a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe… But demons don’t show up to save desperate souls who are praying for them when all other options have failed.” You brushed aside some strands of dirty hair that insisted on covering those beautiful eyes – now looking at you with curiosity and admiration. “Do you know who do?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Angels do.” Your answer was but a murmur, even quieter than the engines of the van. “You are my very own guardian angel, Dante.”

Lady once said that, somewhere out there, even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one – but you would dare to add that devils did cry when they were loved back.

Your red devil was living proof of that on that Halloween night.

[wosieposiecozy]

Finally got the balls to post this

Candybats rambles and HC and individual stuff. Turning these freaks into OCs fr

🦇🎀 Rambles under the cut bc talk of mental health, also note pink text is for things that are more personal to me/ based off my life. I project onto these freaks a whole lot, especially streber! The pink text range from silly to not so silly 🎀🦇

Enjoy!!!

-kevin is a nerd/freak, no way he's friends with Radford and isn't a nerd, bro def has a fixation on sonic the hedgehog but only owns 06 (he borrows other games from rad)

- streber is not an engineer but a theater prop maker, he enjoys the stage and probably was in a robotics club in college but engineering/ robotics was not something he wanted to go into directly. He dose prop commissions and is a teacher assistant at an elementary school.

-streber is great at math and calculations, but my boy can't read/spell well.

- streber likes to fidget with Kevin's hands

-kevin likes to just flop on top of streber. Streber likes the pressure. Kevin's like a cold weighted blanket, and streber is a heating pad.

- streber struggles with depression, it's been a year since Bob and while he's doing better, he struggles with not feeling anything sometimes, he's nervous on how his response to his trauma isn't like others. He kinda pretends it didn't happen and continues on, and only really thinks about it when he's alone at night. (Based on my own experiences with grieving a lost one)

- streber has mixed feelings about people who survived Bob, he never blamed them but he's just is extremely upset he couldn't get the same treatment from that monster. He stopped going to support groups and just dose 1 on 1 therapy.

- streber lived with his parents for a while after getting out of the hospital (the rats stayed with Leon 💪) , and kinda just wanted to rot in his bed, but eventually went to some sort of support. Mainly because of fears of going to the mental hospital (yes, again,based on irl experiences)

-streber refused to talk to news outlets regarding the incident.

- he fluctuates wanting to get a prosthetic arm to not wanting to.

-kevin is on depression and anxiety meds. (Literally hc he has the same as me, bro take them everyday or else bad shit happens!!! )

- Kevin doesn't talk about work when he's not at work, it makes him pissed, mainly because the most interesting thing is skid & pump, police, teens stealing, or killers/demons

- Kevin hates work and dose experience fear of "god, what I'm if I go into day and I die" but the anxiety of having to get a new job and change his norm over powers his fear of death.

- streber bites Kevin, like just a stress and comfort thing, Kevin is okay with it. Streber kinda bites his arm sometimes

- streber and Kevin rent out apartments, they don't live together.

-streber loves his rat children. We got Socrates🐀, motor oil🐀, and Mr. Girl🐀!!

- Kevin had a love at first sight kinda thing but didn't act on his feelings, mainly because he likes to get to know people first before asking them out and bc work has him in a choke hold.

- Kevin would like a pet cat but.... Work 😔

- they met because of Radford 💪 the real hero of spooky month's 18-30 year olds 🫡.

- streber became pretty good friends with Kevin at first then he fell for him, bro just loves cringe fail men (and women). Kevin was beefing with children, no way your gonna find a better boy failure /silly

- streber disassociates during slasher films. He still loves horror and Halloween as it was his comfort growing up, but Bob left a stain that will forever haunt him.

-streber's favorite horror movies are silent & psychological horror.

- Kevin isn't a huge fan of horror movies but he appreciates "Dave made a maze" & probably "Willard", he's like " Dave just like me fr!!!" (Go watch the movie, it free on Tubi 😎)

- both can't drive, streber takes the bus, Kevin takes his bike.

-I like to think they're both touch starved.

-kevin likes physical affection and wants to give it to streber but kinda forgets how to

-streber is very big on physical affection but isn't use to it

-

- freak 4 freak

-insert Kevin is a fan of young Sheldon here-

🎀🦇 Oki rambles over 🦇🎀

If you liked it, that's kinda epic

[boydepartment]

i have something to say and idk if it’s controversial or not. noncon/dubcon mentioned

i’ve had to block a few ppl in the enhypen tag like just #enhypen or #riki or #riki x reader . because of how much

noncon/dubcon riki stuff is in the predominately sfw tags.

i do not personally agree with that little community who writes sm-t for him bc all of them have this ego complex of “i’m just better bc i don’t care >:(“ no, you have a really irresponsible and immature mindset when it comes to conflict. just because you “don’t care” doesn’t make you a good person or better than people who tell you to c-t yourself or d-e. it’s even worse if you’re like “i know i’m not a good person >:)” like okaaaay joker go rob a bank or something then.

back to the point- it’s to the grey area of time now where you can’t really stop them now anyways because it’s down to personal preference and their comfort of writing for him that way whether it’s “morally correct” to me or anyone reading this or not.

the one hill i will die on though, is i do not fw dubcon or noncon. even if its written as a trauma response sharing it and pushing your idols or celebrities(riki or other idols) into that is extremely horrible. if you write it because of trauma- keep it to yourself, and that’s none of my business. people cope in different ways whether i agree with it or not. writing your favorite idols as r-pists or manipulators to get what they want s-ually is extremely messed up especially when posted onto a public platform in regular #(insert idol group) and predominantly not nsfw tags. it’s irresponsible and subjects a younger audience(especially on tumblr. ao3 is another mess but at least ao3 is primarily used by an older crowd) to being exposed to thinking intimate acts like that is normal, when its absolutely not. and you might think “who would think that? it’s writing!” the amount of times people have openly stated in the fanfiction community admitting that they have never had s-x but will just write what they’ve picked up on is insane. same argument that p—n ruins mental health and mental image of healthy relationships if exposed to watching and consuming that content for too long.

this is coming from someone who was r—ed. i think it’s extremely insensitive to push idols onto that whether it’s written as a trauma response to the action or not. you’re putting innocent people and writing them as r-pists. fiction or not that’s weird.

and if it’s not written as a trauma response, i don’t understand the smut dubcon/noncon community’s fascination of getting r-ped. it’s a terrible thing to happen and i don’t wish it on anyone. the ptsd from it and how unclean you feel is so gut wrenching and there’s nothing you can do about it. part of your life gets taken from you and you can never get it back. there is lifelong trauma after that. almost everyday i wish after it happened to me he just killed me so i wouldn’t have to live with it. i still get nightmares and it’s led to sh and other mental issues that i just have to deal with now. why is that a fantasy to people?

back to the topic of people writing noncon/dubcon for riki (or any other idol but i’ve been seeing WAY too much for riki)

i might get comments saying “it’s not that serious it’s fanfiction it’s not real”

you’re writing about an 18 year old boy r-ping someone (the READER)

it’s the same argument of nsfw drawings of characters who are children. just bc it’s not real doesn’t mean it’s not fucked up and weird.

it is that serious and it’s weird and gross and mentally deranged. i will die on that hill.

i wont attack these people or start fights like i used to, i have a life outside of tumblr. but on my downtime i do check the #enhypen tag. and to see this shit sometimes floating around or even on the #riki tag. is just fucked.

idk it just upsets me, i obviously block these people and move on from my life bc i have goldfish memory but there’s like five accounts that just kept popping up in the past week that i’ve had to block. i know some people might be like “oh you really showed them!!1!!1!” in an annoying way, but either way i stand by my point that it’s fucked up and i’m human so i’m allowed to get upset by it.

[rgr-pop]

I have a friend in the midwest who's looking for a political org and i was wondering if you could you offer some advice. Are there qualities you would look for in an org that would make you feel like, okay, these are people I can work with?

Yea! I think there’s a ton of variation and it depends on what kinds of work they like to do or want to learn to do. I’d be happy to talk to them directly about their city.

As a materialist, I sort of think any group or org can be worth trying—doing so gives you a sense of the conditions and things to learn, and helps you follow where people are, which is the best way to learn about a new place you live. Always join stuff, you can always stop going if you don’t like it, never try to start something from scratch until you’ve been going to stuff for a long time (unless that something is a union in your workplace :p). Your friend should just trust their instincts but be open to learning from others, honor their time/energy/boundaries, and watch out for red flag orgs that don’t respect boundaries and don’t allow members to vocalize concerns or bring ideas to the table. I think that’s the key line.

For me personally, I am only interested in deep involvement with democratically organized groups that are not primarily concerned with providing service to people who are mostly non members. I definitely respect and work with these kinds of orgs all the time, but it’s not where my organizing energy goes — I am not a mutual aid person, but your friend might be! Examples of groups locally that I like and work with and would trust as a model are food not bombs style mutual aid as well as some urban farm style stuff (some of which can be soooo fashy but some i like here!), syringe access and harm reduction, eviction defense and other anti carceral rapid response. I do work with abortion funds and infinitely recommend anybody who can stomach it do the same (they can reach out to me for info on their local funds). I’ve been doing stuff around parent/childcare/repro and I would strongly advise to tread carefully there given the entrenchment of socially conservative religious actors. Just stay vigilant and research. Antifascist style orgs are also very interesting, frustrating, messy, frequently dangerous, occasionally surprisingly fascist, and presently useful—look into them but be thoughtful.

Questions to ask, many of which especially apply to mutual aid style groups: is there a leadership structure, and if so, how do leaders become leaders? Is there a board of directors? Who is on it? Do we have money, and if so, where does it come from, who decides how we use it, and what is its legal status? Who decides what work we do and how? Do I as a participant have a vote, the potential to run for leadership, or the right to propose work or organizational ideas? How does this group conceptualize the relationship between me, the community at large, the people we focus on, and people in other places? What other orgs do they seem to be connected to? Is anyone paid staff, and if so, what are their working conditions and how do they relate to the non paid staff? What does this org have on paper, online, etc.? What kind of safety or security norms do they have? Do they have a procedure for handling violence or just mundane conflict between participants? How are everyday decisions handled? None of my judgments relate to an assessment of the people themselves, per se—which is NOT to say I don’t make those judgements lol.

Many different responses to the above are valid depending on the work, and not having clear answers doesn’t mean that an org is bad, especially if it’s open to development. Having said that, again, I only organize with groups that give me a vote. And I think everyone should consider that guide.

My pitch for joining DSA if you have a chapter is that it has the best answers to the above compared to anyone else. It has the most things you can do as a beginner, the widest variety, and the best opportunities to grow yourself as an organizer, and it’s the biggest leftist organization in blah blah you’ve heard it. I strongly recommend not getting too involved with small communist leftist factionalist orgs (I won’t name them here), but there are a million exceptions, especially in cities like Chicago and Minneapolis with long deep weird histories. And no need to hate on them, either. If some communist league seems to be really doing something and not uhhh openly trafficking people or something lol, go off. (Where I live this is the case on campus!) The other exception is the IWW. It’s always fine to join the IWW, especially for labor, and there really are a handful of cities where the IWW is effective and the place to do rank and file labor work (and mostly those are in the midwest!) In many more cases the IWW is a sad little thing but it’s our duty to be nice to them.

In conclusion “make you feel like you wanna work with them” is complicated—I’m a hater, and do not enjoy the company of most of these people, or in fact even the masses in general. You have to find your own balance, which requires pushing yourself out of your comfort zone for a little while, and see how the org reacts. But ultimately, you don’t need to want to work with the people—you need an org that is productive and moves by creating conditions for people to work together regardless of whether they like each other. Fundamental premise of socialism and communism specifically, and it’s what sets us apart from tendencies on the right and common versions of certain tendencies on the left whomst I won’t name. My #1 advice is always to avoid any group whose mission is based on affinity and friendship between its members. (But if you make friends with them, go off)

[crescencestudio]

Devlog #35 | 09.26.23

Hi everyone!

Hope the beginning of Fall has been kind to you all <3 To be Frank, it has not been Kind to me LMFAO. But I'll get into that, so let's dive in yippee!

Before I do, someone liked this post recently, which was such a throwback. It was before the full demo was out and everything!! I was so young and full of life. I'm going to sprinkle some comparison shots of the new assets with the old ones to break up the text and also walk down memory lane with me! (Full GUI not shown as I'm still waiting on the assets)

Chapter Cards (Left: After | Right: Before)

The "Progress"

I'm going to structure this devlog a little differently from the usual template. The main reason being, for those of you who didn't see, I have not been feeling Myself recently.

This month I found myself all out of sorts. While I felt like I was making progress and doing so much everyday read: fighting for my life, when I looked back on things at the end of this month, I didn't feel like I really did much.

On a higher level, I finished fulfilling Kickstarter physical rewards, opened a Kofi shop of the remaining merch, edited Druk's route and continued writing Etza's route, updated assets and code for the updated demo, and then general commission stuff (BGs from Vui, soundtracks from Peter, etc.).

But overall, Alaris felt largely like it was kinda sitting at around the same spot as it did when I entered this month. Which made me a little sad! I had wanted to make So Much Progress on Alaris because next month I won't be able to work on it really. Then, I realized I haven't taken a break from game development since I started it two years ago HA!!!

The Real Progress

Development for me has been back-to-back. Chapter releases every 1-2 months during my first half year of development, Full Demo release shortly after, Kickstarter shortly after, Full Game Development shortly after. When I was feeling burnt out from Alaris, I made intertwine. Then I was Heavily Involved in the development of two games shortly after.

All of this on top of my IRL responsibilities, which include a job, PhD school, and well, functioning as a normal human occasionally.

And then here we are at the end of September 2023, and I'm wondering why even though I creatively want to work on Alaris, I find my brain literally just getting too tired to think.

Etza CG (Left: After | Right: Before)

I think ever since the Kickstarter, I've put a lot of pressure on myself to consistently put out LOTS of updates for each monthly devlog. I don't want people to think I'm not working on things or I'm not committed to delivering after giving me their hard earned money. But now, with two years under my belt, I'm realizing that is... HMM maybe too high of a standard to put on myself for my first game ever. There are many much more seasoned developers than me who don't put that pressure on themselves (which is Good and Healthy).

So this month, I debated scrounging around and gathering all my crumbs to give you all a devlog that you'll be satisfied with. But I decided ultimately that wouldn't be good for me and would honestly not be the most transparent way to present the current process of things.

And so. Here I am. Head in my Hands. Letting you all know that while I'm not "burnt out," I am.... only human LOL (one human at that). And so some months, like this one, will just not have much progress to report. Not because I'm not working on it or any other deeper reason. But because it's physically impossible and unreasonable for me to be continuously pushing out a steady stream of content.

In-Game Sprites & BGs (Left: After | Right: Before)

Next month, I'lll be taking a vacation. It's actually my first Big, Official one in a Long Time! I'm very excited for it. And while I did initially think about working on Alaris while I was traveling on trains or things like that, I decided to respect my own need to be a Human and just take a break for once in my life. I don't even want to say I Might work on things, because that sentiment alone will pressure me to make some progress. So yes. Next month, there will be no devlog or updates. But please rest assured, I am "working on Alaris" by letting myself just Exist and Rest Up!

Not an Alaris screenshot but it is market research that deserves to be included because I played House in Fata Morgana recently and it was Phenomenal!

Thank you all for understanding and your continued support. I'm extremely appreciative to have such a kind and patient community. Hope you all have a wonderful October filled with Fall Treats, and I'll see you in November! <3

[hyuukais]

6. Buildup

warnings: none

word count: 1.0k

a/n: this isn’t the best but i was really struggling with it for some reason

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ ✿ㆍ ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The heavy bass thump and low lighting of the arena feel reminiscent of a club. You can already tell you’re not far off from a migraine, as strobe lights flash dramatically around the padded ring. Next to you, Jooyeon and Seungmin are both munching away on their pretzels, the former having successfully tracked you and Bea down through the crowds. Jeongin arrived not long after him, flocked by a pack of men you didn’t recognize and Beomgyu. They came with cups and snacks in hand, apparently having stopped at the concessions as well. You all were quickly introduced as they sat down. Vaguely familiar with their names, it was nice to pair them with faces.

Yeonjun, with his bloody hair, was the first to greet you—oozing with charisma. Soobin seemed a bit quieter but polite nonetheless, especially as he commented on enjoying Jooyeon’s content with a bright smile. All you could really discern about Hueningkai was that Jeongin was right for calling him hot unprompted. He ended up in the seat next to you, silently snacking on some popcorn. It looked and smelled buttery and amazing. The thought of something salty makes your mouth water, yet the expanding pit in your stomach grows nauseous at the thought of eating.

It was like a looming blackhole of dread was eating you from the inside-out; all morning plagued by a familiar despair. The same one that had been following you for the past week. Beyond the notion of meeting new people spiking your anxiety, it was this overwhelming yet indiscernible feeling; most similar to depressing amounts of self-loathing and anger. Thoughts of that stupid rejection had been eating you up all night; over some guy you only went on a single date with. How dumb you felt about caring so much only made the feeling worsen, a vicious cycle so to speak. Bea had been completely on the nose when she called out your tendency to overthink, but you certainly wouldn’t tell her that. Hopefully, a fun night with friends would pull your mind out of its pit; or you could at least pretend one of the guys getting punched is someone you hate and find some enjoyment there.

“Would-would you like some?”

“Wha-”

Your eyes come back into focus on Heuningkai holding his popcorn container towards you. Even in the dim light, you can see the flaring red bathing his ear and neck. Perhaps you were looking at it too long, lost in thought, and made him uncomfortable.

“Oh, I…” Your stomach stirs at the sight, caught between craving and disgust. It smells so delicious though. “Sure, thank you.” You take a small handful. Popping some in your mouth, the kernels melt into your tongue, warm and buttery, absolute heaven on an empty stomach. You can’t stop the soft moan that slips out at the taste.

“That good, huh?” Kai chuckles beside you, you just happily nod in response, savoring each bite. A smile grows along with the red on his cheeks. “Um—I…I actually wanted to say, I’m a really big fan.”

“Oh?” Suddenly, the odd looks and comments his friends had given him after you two were introduced come back with much more clarity. They had all spoken about Kai sitting next to you with this odd lilt you can now tell was teasing.

His hands wring in his lap, but he face betrays nothing but a smile. “Yeah, so is Taehyunie, though I’m the one that introduced him to your content. We both think your stuff is really fun and cool! Your commentary is really funny and personable. You have this kind of atmosphere that…I just, I wish I could create with my content, I guess.”

“Oh, thank you!” Happiness bubbles in your chest, spreading its heat up your neck with a grin. You received words like these everyday from hundreds across the internet, yet something in the way he spoke made you feel so giddy over the praise. “I-I actually checked out a lot of your guys’ stuff after Jeongin mentioned we’d be coming today, and I really really liked it! Um–I watched the vod of one of your music streams—oh my god! You’re so talented, it’s crazy!”

“Oh–haha–thank you!” His head dipped as a shy laugh took over his body.

“And, I mean, I was a little hesitant about coming here. I guess I just didn’t know what to expect, but watching some stuff of Taehyun’s matches was like–wow.”

“Ah, yeah, Taehyun’s really talented. He always gets me to help him practice, and sometimes, just watching what he can do with one punch gets a little scary. He’s tried to teach me so many times but…I’m not built for those sports.”

“Oh god, Jeongin has this specific workout regime that he’s tried to get the rest of us to join so many times. It’s like he's really just plotting to kill us or something—it’s genuinely crazy. I’m like 90% sure it’s just because he developed it by working out with Changbin, but like—just thinking about it makes me want to vomit.”

His laugh is deep and airy as you go on about your friend’s. You both continue to swap stories back and forth, easily falling into casual conversation. Connecting with strangers was never an easy feat for you, but Hueningkai made it seem so much simpler. You could’ve probably talked for hours if not for the booming voice of the announcer ringing out to signal the start of the fight.

Cheers fill up the audience as the introductions proceed with both men standing at opposite corners of the ring. Everything is so loud and intense, you miss most of what is said about Taehyun. It’s easy to spot him against his opponent's bright green hair. His hands are clad in red gloves which match his shorts. From your seats so close, it's easy to see the steely look in his eye, brows shadowing his cheeks. Tension is thick in the air, beneath the harsh white now spotlighting the ring, everything burns up. Your heartbeat builds in your ears with unease, your breath held tight until the final signal goes and the match finally begins.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ ✿ㆍ ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

WHAT YOU DESERVE

: ̗̀➛ Y/n is beloved by thousands on the internet, being a popular streamer. However, they’ve never been able to find nearly as much affection in their love life, despite searching for years. Just when they’re close to giving up on love all together, they suddenly find their romantic prospects on an upturn.

masterlist | prev | next

[madarasgirl]

A Night for Hunting Ch.4- Who Raised You?

Been busy this last week, but here it is! Hope you enjoy our latest adventures with our detested yandere stalker.

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, yandere, touch-starved vampire, awkwardness, I gave up trying to make the conversation better Words: 3072 On AO3

"You are working yourself too hard. I can feel your hunger and exhaustion." 

You saw the naughty shadows dance, the reflection barely matching how your body was moving. It was undulating and stretching under the faint light of the streetlamps, which was certainly not what your shadow should have been doing. The vampire emerged from the ground, oozing upwards to recreate his body and walk beside you. The gravel crunched as he matched your stride easily. 

"You don’t think it's because I have to entertain the likes of you every few nights? Unlike you, I have stuff to do, a livelihood to look after. A job to work, an apartment to care for, meals to cook —responsibilities, you know." You yawned.

The two of you made for an awkward pair strolling the somber night boulevards, his imposing stature was as flamboyant as your appearance was unassuming —his crimson duster in stark contrast to your quiet black uniform. You walked together in silence, though you kept your distance and attention on him. His hands were at his side, his stance relaxed. Your sideways gaze flickered up briefly to ensure there weren’t extra extremities planning on stealing touches from you.

It was too peaceful. The same upside down patio chairs and industrial-sized garbage bins parked backwards to allow for pickup as on the other side of town. This area was much the same, yet so different, from your old neighbourhood. It was just another quiet suburb, but generally more desolate even during regular hours. There was ample greenery though, which you appreciated. 

You glanced around the street to the darkened corners and crevices, carefully inspecting the usual favoured hiding spots for potential unnatural shadows harboring eyes. There weren’t any, although that smirk of his was ever-present. Annoyance flared in the pit of your belly. 

It suddenly hit you. ”Is your name ‘Dracula’ spelled backwards? Haha such a funny coincidence, unless it’s not. Who names themselves ‘Alucard’? It's so sad, what a wannabe,” you snickered to yourself. 

"Indeed. Isn't it quite amusing?" ‘Alucard’ tilted his head to gaze at the half-moon, his face mostly obscured beneath the sunglasses and hat. The sky was overcast, the modest light of the celestial body unable to penetrate the haze with the city’s light pollution also contributing to the concealment of the stars. This night held its own intrigue, but wasn’t quite as exquisite as the last, Alucard decided.

You arrived at your building and unconsciously held the lobby doors open for him. He didn't say anything to acknowledge your action, lest you become aware and try to ‘rescind the offer.’ You gently shut the door to your condo and toed off your shoes. 

After settling your belongings, you ran fresh water in the kettle to boil. You thought the conversation about your overwork was over when he spoke up again. "Come to the Shangri-la at 1900 each night. We will have supper unless I have other…arrangements.”

You scoffed at him. “What are you talking about? You'll do that every single night? That's quite a commitment I'm sure you won't be able to keep."

Piercing golden orange irises locked onto your scowling face, before the slit-like pupils contracted and he sighed, "Go there whenever you do not wish to cook, with or without me."

You gave him the flattest look you could muster. “Do you really think I can afford eating at the Shangri-la everyday?”

The vampire returned your expression before it turned back into a grin. What was he smirking at this time?

Your irritation spiked as realization dawned. “I don't want such an arrangement with you, or a sugar daddy. It’s way too good to be true and I don’t trust you. What makes you assume I even want to be with you? No thanks.”

“No other motives, Sweet. Only ensuring you eat well.”

Once upon a time not long ago, this vampire chased you through abandoned streets like a serial killer of women, but now he was acting the gentleman? You didn’t know what to make of him except for how he made you uncomfortable and you wanted him gone, especially with the recent news about the disappearances of several people in the city. Your heavy mistrust of this freaky creature resurfaced with force. Making sure you ate well? Was he trying to fatten you up before he ate you?

The vampire's deep chortle filled the room, which you hated to find was a pleasant sound. "I don't eat humans, little one, though I'm certain you would be delicious." His eyes wrinkled with mirth and you felt yourself on the defensive again.

“As if you should be treating some woman to the Shangri-la every night. You realize it’s a luxury restaurant in a 5-star hotel? An unemployed thing like you can’t afford it either.” You couldn’t believe you had to explain how preposterous his proposal was to him. After filling the teapot with piping hot water, you turned back to your guest intending to tell him he was being stupid, when you froze.

He cocked a brow at you, an insane expression spreading over his face. Goodness, he looked like a psychopath. You were right to be wary of him. “I am employed, little human,” he cackled.

"Harassing me every few nights isn’t considered employment, vampire. And stop calling me 'little human.' It's demeaning." You could feel the pulsing behind your left eyelid, a headache beginning to emerge within your temples from the endless back and forth.

"My visits to you are a separate matter. I enjoy catching you —it truly gives me great satisfaction.” The beast turned to shadow, into a seeping dark mass that trickled to your feet and clutched your ankles, then began crawling up your body before you could escape. Frightening memories of the last time he held you down as a shadow replayed themselves, but you were unable to budge at all to try kicking him off. Anxiety gripped you by the throat, yet he was weightless this time, and materialized just his head directly in front of you, shiny teeth flashing and towering stature proudly hovering over your head. He had you cornered and you glared back defiantly. 

“Are you not little and human?" He purred through a ghastly smirk at your shocked face, then abruptly became solid again, silently phasing through the counter and dining room furniture to sit at the couch. 

You gasped for some much-needed air as he left, feeling your heart's rapid gallop in your ribcage. 

Jerk. Was he reading your mind right now? You weren't sure. But you repeated yourself to be certain he heard.

"Jerk," you muttered under your breath as you scampered to the bedroom to change. Raspy chuckling sounded from the living room.

In the privacy of your bedroom, you stomped around, feeling only indignance and frustration from the incessant harassment. He was only messing around to make a fool out of you for his own entertainment, you reminded yourself. Ripping the black shirt off your head, you whipped it at the bed. What a twisted monster. Repeating the same manner of motions with your pants and underwear, you found your sour mood unimproved at all from throwing around your belongings. You cursed when you rammed a shin into the corner of the bed frame. That leg was going to bruise. 

Hissing in pain, your gaze landed on the framed photos in the corner of the room, immortalized moments of cherished simpler times. You went to the photos sitting on the drawer and leaned over it with your hands braced against the top. There was a layer of dust gathering on the surface of the drawers. Two of your fingers smeared the dust off in a line. It’s been awhile since you had the luxury of time to take care of affairs within your home. You sighed. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and you forced yourself to take deep breaths. 

You may not be able to escape him, but one day, if the vampire didn’t maim or kill you first, he will get bored of you and eventually leave you alone. It was only a matter of time. Until then, you will have to bear the burden of his presence.

Forcing numb calmness over your mind, you took one final breath and stood with a straight spine, to present yourself with more poise than you felt. You dabbed away the wet residue at your eyes and smacked your cheeks lightly, then eased open the door to reenter the battle. --------------------

“So you can play with the lights, possess telepathy and control minds, have a lot of eyes, and you can turn immaterial and shapeshift. You have all these fancy abilities, perfect for scaring young women. Are you proud of yourself? Any other superpowers I should be aware of?”

Your unwanted guest’s duster was draped over the couch, revealing a dapper suit beneath, all brought together by the pretty red cravat at his neck. His expression was serene, not frightening as it was earlier. The fleeting thought of how easy he was on the eyes crossed the mind yet again, before your eyes narrowed at his comfort level and the way he made himself at home when he was in fact unwelcome. 

"My other superpower is that I'm rich." 

Wha-? Your exhausted brain faltered. "Y-you didn't. You are not Batman." 

He looked at you curiously, then EXPLODED into hundreds of furry bats. The absurdity of your situation didn't escape you, but even you had to laugh as you gawked. He made a movie reference, but you set yourself up for that. 

Staring at the horde for several seconds, you felt your scorching anger dampen, then evaporate. It just wasn’t the same when he wasn’t in the shape of a man, directing his mocking eyes and smirks your way.

You held out your hand to offer a landing spot for the bats. Alucard eagerly took up the offer. It was the first time you ever reached out to touch him, even if he was merely a collection of small winged critters at the moment. A larger bat landed on your palm and clung to your fingers. You stared at the colony fluttering around your home, some now docked on various light fixtures, kicking up dust and making the lighting in the room blink erratically from the wings periodically blocking the light. You turned your attention back to the animal in your hand.

It was black and furry, regarding you with translucent scarlet eyes and chirping in greeting. The animal lover in you ignited and your heart melted. You cooed at the bat, almost in disbelief that this was real, and alternated between stroking its back and belly. The animal keened, awkwardly climbing your hand to roll over and present its stomach while fluttering its wings and rubbing its back into your hand. Oversized saucer ears swiveled from side-to-side to catch the sounds of you babbling to him. The collection of his bat eyes around the room were focused on you as they soaked up your affection.

Alucard wanted more. Several more bats flew over to land on your arms and fingers, all vying for your attention. You giggled at the swarm surrounding you, with too many wings, feet and little cheeks and fingers to pet, you didn’t know where to go first. It was a surprise discovery that the wings weren’t leathery, but covered in a thin, silky soft skin. You forgot yourself and ran your fingers through another’s luscious velvet fur and pressed your nose to its face.

Squeaks echoed around the room and the flapping swarm merged to reform into a humanoid figure. The vampire approached with a peculiar expression, his face near yours, forcing you back into reality and to inch away from the proximity. The vampire's eyes were bright vermilion as he took another step forward to maintain the closeness between you. 

"Do that again." 

"Do what again?" Suddenly, you were jumpy now that it was Alucard again.

"That sound, the laugh." 

You gave him an incredulous  chuckle, ”You’re kidding, right?” 

"Not like that. Like before, just now when you were holding me." It sounded like the chime of bells to him.

Holding him? Who speaks like that to someone they barely know?! "You can't just force someone to give you a heartfelt laugh! Sheesh, have you never been socialized before? You are you right now, not a cute bat!" 

The vampire huffed and insisted with a low rumble emanating from his chest, "It was music. Do it again."

"I-I just told you! My goodness, who raised you?"

At that question, he gave you a funny look, almost like he was sad and pained, but it was gone just as quickly and he straightened out and collected himself. "I am far-removed from my days as a human." He observed your arms held out flat to your chest in defence and withdrew.

This thing was human? But of course he was. He must have been a human turned into a vampire, if the legends were true. Thinking back on the timeless beauty you found in his eyes when you first met, combined with the strange mannerisms, you figured this must have been long ago.

You didn’t want to know more about him or his past.

You had leftovers for dinner. Just a simple meal of baked chicken drumsticks and roasted eggplants with buckwheat, all made in bulk several days ago with lots and lots of garlic. Despite the seasoning, you didn't offer him anything, but only because you didn’t want to waste your precious food on him or allow him to feel welcome.

During the entire meal he stared at you eating. It was unnerving. He watched too carefully, his eyes capturing every detail. When your tongue poked out to lick at escaped sauces, you caught his pupils darting over to trace your actions. When you looked at him for a moment too long, his eyes would catch yours and almost drown you with their strange light. He seemed absolutely fascinated by everything you did. You shivered under the intense scrutiny and averted your gaze back down at your food. --------------------

You hoped he would leave after dinner, but the mannerless vampire was still here. You couldn’t sleep with him around. Knowing that requesting for him to leave would be meaningless, you chose to watch a chick-flick in the hopes it would be off-putting. It wasn’t one you enjoyed either.

Seating yourselves with him on the opposite (his favourite) couch, you kept the distance between you. Your lids already felt heavy. 97 minutes wasn’t long for a movie, but in your state, you wondered how you would last the stretch too. 

“You are exhausted,” he noted, crossing his legs to examine you properly. The darkness hid nothing from him. He could see you perfectly.

The air conditioner turned back on with a hum as the movie began. Sirens screamed past your building outside, but you didn’t acknowledge any of this. Your head hung low, chin almost touching your chest as the softness of the couch embraced you. You were drooping, nodding off, the darkness of night a welcome reprieve for once. You came back to awareness with a start.

You made a sound and mumbled, “I am watching.”

"You are watching a movie with your eyes closed?" His voice was quiet, not taunting.

"It's a neat ability I have." You shifted your weight to the other side and stared at the screen blankly.

"It's hard to stay awake after all that happened during the day,” you trailed off. So peaceful.

"You do not need to justify your human needs." 

At the low melodic timbre, you turned bleary eyes towards the source to make out only two irises, iridescent pools of liquid gold in the poor lighting. 

"Time to sleep, little one." 

It was such an odd feeling, like you were floating through haze-shrouded skies. You tried to shake off the sensation, but were too weak. Your lids got heavy and you passed out on a full belly, slumped against a large pillow with your head at a funny angle. In your dreamlike state, it seemed there was to be a strange truce with this nightwalker tonight. 

Alucard stared at your limp form, at the smooth expanse of throat that was bared to him. His eyes honed in on the tiny flickering pulse on the side. It was in the air. Your monthly was due soon, and you were fertile at this moment. His fangs descended. Your neck will be sore later if you slept like that the entire night. He licked his lips and silently slipped up to you. He faded into the soft fabric of the couch and reappeared seated next to you with his shoulder propping up your unconscious body as he emerged from the couch. 

There was almost no external light in the room, only what was granted by the TV screen. The hour was late, or early, depending on what kind of being you were. The blaring of sirens screamed past outside once more before all was silent, save for the occasional noises of nocturnal animals breaking the tranquility.

Alucard allowed the movie to continue playing to completion with you slumped on his shoulder. Two women on screen shrieked at each other for petty perceived offences, but Alucard paid the movie no mind. He watched you sleep, listened to the slow thump of your heartbeat, felt the puffs of your even breaths. He knew you'd be warm, but the prolonged contact with your body heat was more akin to a furnace thawing out his dead body. He caught your scent again, the enticing female pheromones much more preferred now that they were directly on him. For once you weren’t scared or anxious. He was comfortable. Your relaxed expression calmed him and his eyes closed.

Now that you no longer ran from him when he came to you at night, the first vampire honestly missed the thrill of the chase. When the pungent scent of your terror diffused through the air as you realized he was present, it shot straight to his loins. When you screamed and fled, his body was mandated to follow. He missed the exhilaration and adrenaline rush from catching you, addictive drugs which made him almost feel alive again, but this…he shifted to prevent your head from falling off his shoulder…this was good too.

~To be Continued~

[badhabitroutine]

K-pop based 🦋 motivation

Warning! Don't go in expecting regular diet stuff. This is a pr0 4n4 post 🦋

This isn't just a list of "imagine what you'd bias think of you" type of inspo, no m34nspo too. More like a list of motivating concepts, and a lot of tips and tricks that I use when I want to stay strong.

It's giving ✨delusional ✨ but if it works it works, right?

1. Performing is a workout

Did you know that you can burn 90kcal to 150kcal singing for an hour? And that's just from singing. Dancing can help you burn between 280kcal to 550kcal per hour. So if you combine dancing and singing, that's quite a workout.

Pick your favorite song and learn the choreo from youtube tutorials! If you can't sing out loud, that's fine too, but if you can, you're squeezing in an extra workout all while having a lot of fun. If you feel too weak to dance, you can sing while sitting down.

This is a workout thats very discreet. No one ever gets questioned for singing along to their favorite song, and if you do, you can just say that this is your new hobby, or that youre trying out a tiktok trend.

2. Trainee weigh-ins

Did you know that female trainees go through monthly, or even weekly weigh-ins? Every trainee is weighed on the same day and their results are announced to everyone. If their weight isn't satisfactory, they could even be rejected from their entertainment company altogether.

If you're losing motivation and find yourself slipping, try setting a date for yourself. This is your weigh-in date, and you need to hit your goal weight on that date no matter what! Set a realistic goal, of course. You can even avoid weighing yourself everyday to create more suspense.

If you find yourself faltering, think about that weigh-in date. This is all you've worked for, like the k-pop trainees, and just as they managed to persevere and debut, you'll manage to stick to your goals as well. Imagine how embarrassed you'd feel if your weigh-in result was announced in front of your friends and you were chastised and ridiculed... And how proud you'd be to be praised by the teachers and envied by other trainees for making it.

3. Korean beauty standards

Korean beauty standards when it comes to size are among the strictest in the world, and tat applies to idols, too. There are many stories of idols debuting with a bigger bmi and being shamed by the public into strict dieting.

If you find meanspo motivating, imagine what kind of response you'd get from the public if you debuted now. Would you have any fans, or would they call you names for being too fat? You can even read comments that k-netizens leave under posts of idols they consider overweight and imagine them being about you. Now, go lose weight, you can't disappoint your fans!

If meanspo isn't your thing, think about how idols get applauded and congratulated on their weight loss. You can even watch interviews of them sharing their story. Imagine how good it would feel to sit in that spot, impress everyone with your strong will, and tell them how you managed to achieve your perfect physique. You'd surely make so many new fans!

4. Face the struggle

Being a k-pop idol is fucking hard. Your faves have worked their asses off to get where they are and they will continue to work insanely hard. You probably know that already, and you've seen them cry for many reasons.

Being a kpop idol takes immense mental fortitude. They have incredibly tiring schedules, are on strict diets, constantly work out, aren't allowed much freedom, have to watch what they say and do else they end up in a scandal... In a way, isn't that similar to your everyday life? Locking in on your goals despite being always tired, st4rving yourself, working out, and trying to keep all of that hidden from everyone else.

But if they could do it, so can you. Watch videos of your faves talking about their struggles and hardships, and remember that they made it out on the other side, victorious, and have achieved their dreams. Now it's your turn.

5. Kpop diets

At this point, restrictive k-pop diets are well known to everyone. You probably have already heard of a few. K-pop idols seem to be locked the fuck in, going on extreme diets if they need to lose weight before a comeback.

Look up different diets that idols have went on during their careers. Maybe you'll even find your faves talking about their diets, and you can follow in their footsteps, put yourself in their shoes. Isn't that a cool way to feel closer to your bias?

Those diets are proven to work. Of course, not everyone will be able to do every diet, and you still have to be careful and take your vitamins, but you can always give everything a try. You could even only eat like k-pop idols for a week, picking a different diet everyday.

That's all I have for now. I hope this can help you all stay strong 🦋 Msg me if you try any of those! We can be delulu together!

[sweetie-peaches]

Not to come off as rude sorry if this does just want to explain my understanding of the situation. I think the whole post is stating that hes not homophobic just that. Words and actions hurt regardless if he's gay or not and it's incredibly jarring to hear him make light of it and have no one seemingly push back on it. I'm likening it to like if a friend calls you loser or worthless as a joke because they dont actually think those things of you but if you have a history of being bullied with those words it can still sting ?

I’m CRYING I made such a well worded response to this and discord DELETED IT

Anyway, here’s the thing.

I understand why some people might by put off by his humor. Sure that’s, fair, whatever. In my opinion kinda, nevermind not stating my opinion

But, I feel like I have to remind everyone once a fucking gain that the qsmp members are adults and problems can be solved IN PRIVATE if there’s any problems at all AND THEY DONT NEED FANS COMING TO SWOOP IN AND ‘PROTECT’ THEM FROM BIG BAD SCARY TUBBO LIKE THEY ARE INFANT DAMSELS IN DISTRESS

I think that’s an issue with the qsmp fandom as a whole. Y’all act like the cc’s just, don’t interact off stream? Don’t talk at all? Don’t you think by now, anyone would say anything about it if there’s an issue?

And here’s another thing, you aren’t tubbos friend. It might be hard to think that, but you aren’t, im not.

And on that train of thought, isn’t it important to reclaim those jokes? Genuine homophobes use those words against us, can’t we use the same jokes?

And why does it feel like if this was anyone else you wouldn’t have a problem? I’ll get shit for being a toxic tubbling and such a hater and blah blah blah but. Fucking seriously, would it be a problem if anyone else said this stuff? Why do I get the feeling y’all were looking for a reason to “cancel” Tubbo (because let’s be real that’s what this is. You may claim not to be Twitter and so much better, but you still pull the same shit. Be fucking for real)

And don’t even get me started on how you treat tubblings. How fucking disgusting it is.

Because I love getting called stupid for existing on this god forsaken app everyday. I love being called annoying, toxic, rude.

I fucking love it. /sarcasm

Some of you in the qsmp fandom make better bullies then you do people actually participating in a fandom.

It’s funny how you’ll insult and bully us but then turn back and bitch and moan about how toxic we are and how we hurt you and your traumatized now and

Yeah fuck it I don’t care if this makes me seem toxic, I don’t fucking care. I am an aid in a pre-K classroom and I’ve seen more mature TODDLERS then some of the people here.