#YOU'RE ARO AND YOU'RE ARO AND YOU'RE ARO AND EVERYONE HERE IS ARO

[aro-culture-is]

I've always known that i had an absence of need for romantic relationships but i never knew what i had to call it. Not until my mid 20s. Despite not labeling myself as aro back then, i actually felt no pressure. My relatives don't ask why I'm still single up to now, my parents dont prod around my friends of the opposite sex, well,

My parents generally dislike romance (surprise they were best friends before deciding to be a family) and I'm glad that they know that I'm not interested in that too.

It's like my inherent disinterest in romance + culture + upbringing solidified my identity. Imagine if everyone was normal about aros. What a utopia.

I'm not sure if you're looking to make this a submission, asking for my thoughts, or what. Generally, I sort the posts here into a few categories:

submissions

questions (ie, "what is xyz identity?")

advice ("i am in this situation, help?")

idk what y'all would like me to do with things like this, anyone have any ideas? idk what to even really tag these as.

[shmowder]

The urge to headcanon every pathologic character as aroallo is getting harder to resist each day

They'd each fall differently on the Aversed/Neutral/favoured spectrum for romance. Some would go for a relationship, and others would prefer a fwb situation. Some are poly by default while others prefer monogomy.

[knifearo]

reminder to everyone that trauma IS a valid reason to use aspec labels. "i don't know if i'm aspec or just traumatized—" protip!!! you can be both!!!! the thing about labels is that they're not immutable states of being that you're born as. they're literally just words that we use to describe our lived experiences, and if asexual or aromantic or any related label feel relevant to the way that you experience attraction, whether it's a result of trauma or not, they're there for you to use. having trauma as a cause does not invalidate the fact that someone is experiencing lesser or no attraction. that's still the aspec experience babey. use the label if you want it's there for you <3

[moiraimyths]

Before we call anon rude because let’s see it from their perspective, imagine getting an entire feast to eat. That can be pretty hard to start with so much that’s going on, but if they start with one thing they know they’ll like (aka one character they like) that can be the start for them leaping to other characters to finish the story and the bigger story. I struggle the same way to start book series if I don’t have at least one character that drives me to read it, it’s all about what can be the hook to push them through. Sounds like the anon is neurodivergent (just a guess) so they might genuinely not see it as rude and see it as a solution to even play the game to start with.

Btw absolutely adore the game, the complex and rich characters making them all so unique is amazing. The art is so pleasing to the eyes I love it!! I’m waiting for it all to get out at once so I don’t get too impatient. Shae however interests me the most, which routes will have the most lore for them? Will there be routes that give more lore in general based on decisions you make or do they all share the same amount? (I mean general lore not just Shae lore)

Apologies; we are not trying to accuse any asker of being rude! We are simply explaining our perspective as the developers / are trying to broadly encourage folks to dip their toes into other areas of the story outside of the main route(s) they're interested in, especially considering some routes will be made available sooner than others, and these other routes will likely contain additional scenes/lore of everyone's fave(s) regardless! We want to give each main cast member an equal amount of love (and lore) regardless of their overall popularity, so our goal is not to tut-tut anyone for having strong preferences for one character over the others, but rather to explain that you may be surprised by how much *more* you learn about your preferred characters in the other routes. That's all!

For Shae... Well, they were a foot soldier for one of the worst periods of the War. Lore wise, any other story that touches on the War will likely have content relevant to them and their experiences. ^^

[vasiktomis]

TripAdvisor's Top 10 Things To Do In Volterra, Tuscany (18+)

Part 1 | Next Part

Pairing: Aro/F!Reader(No use of y/n). Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~3000. Warnings: Pretty tame beginnings tbh but future warnings for Stalking, Toxic relationships and power imbalances, Blood and gore, Devious little fruity men, and Reader-insert being a terrible enough person that it sort of balances it all out?? Idk. Yes there will be weird vampire sex. Read it on Ao3 Here!

__________________________________

It’s in early Summer that you meet him for the first time. 

One sentence typed and re-written with two pages to fill and three proseccos nursed over some amount of hours. A hot afternoon is well on its way to becoming a balmy night, and daytime family shoppers along the tight, sloping roads in Volterra have condensed into young adults seeking whatever might come close to resembling nightlife amidst alfresco dining areas and tall views of rolling hills and old brick- oh, that’s not a bad line.

Rapping the enter key, you make room for the statement. 

Whatever might come close to resembling nightlife amidst alfresco dining areas and tall views of-

A pang of revulsion hits.

Fuck it. It’s shit. 

You slam on the backspace, offsetting just a little of the temptation to hurl your laptop over the retaining wall and onto the road below. 

“Top-up?”

Panic jolts down your spine at the black suit of a hospitality worker in your periphery. You haven’t bought anything since the sun was up. Not since the first prosecco, and the complimentary bread basket, and the second prosecco, and the complimentary bread basket, and the third prosecco, and the humiliating explanation that a family-run business simply cannot keep giving you any more of Nonna’s war-time era bread baskets.

It’s not your fault that no one’s come along to pick up the tab of a pretty tourist tonight. Alcohol’s usually pretty cheap when some cashed-up slob in linen intends to use it to leverage against you later in the night. It’s getting ridiculous out here. It’s been hours, and not only have you gotten a solid zero words into your article — you’ve been squatting here with the nicest view in Volterra for long enough that you fear the staff and your fellow patrons have begun to make assumptions about you. 

You have no money left.

They can’t know you have no money left.

You offer up a smile. “Just water, please.”

You’re met with a pained reflection of the look. Maybe yours is just as sad. They leave with a hurried nod, too busy serving every other table to have time to bother with your bullshit. Maybe you should just order something. Drop a precious thirty on a four-ingredient carbonara that’ll either have you hungry again in an hour or shitting your guts out for the next twenty-four. Wasteful spending, either way. There’s only a few hundred euros left, and you can’t afford to keep doing this.

Rolling hills. Just write something about rolling fucking hills and go back to the airbnb. 

Your fingers poise over the keyboard. 

“Mi scusi—“

“Just water’s fine.” You nearly snap. 

“Oh, you speak English.”

Another black suit in your periphery. Another wave of shame. You look up again, and the well-pressed suit standing before you smiles a mildly manic, overly familiar smile. “Good evening. I’m dreadfully sorry to ask, but would you mind moving on?”

He’s exceptionally pale, you observe. Perfect teeth. Wonderful hair that reminds you of some kind of animal.  

Your brow furrows. “I’m sorry?”

“Yes. That’s fine. No harm done.” The man’s already turned away from you, clicking at the boy who had yet to fetch your water. “Un'altra sedia. Per favore-“

“I’m not done sitting here.” You say.

That smile on his face strains. Just a little. 

“Well, you see,” He offers, “I like to sit here — as well as my company, and you’ve been here for—“ the smile tightens further, and you rejoice in your judgement. He feels entitled to this spot. This is his seat you’re in. 

He’s just as much of a dick about this as you are. 

“Four hours — and this is an exceptional spot to view the end of the sunset at this time of year.”

What a fucking prick. What sweet vindication. 

“Yeah.” You agree, not budging. “It seems like it.”

“Is she gone, yet?” 

Another suit approaches. This time blonde. Younger. Early-twenties perhaps, as opposed to your original assailant’s early-forties. There’s a scowl fixed to his face, exacerbated by a scoff when his gaze finds you still seated. 

 You don’t even give him the time of day, turning back to the brunette. “I’m working. You’re distracting me. I might’ve been gone already if you weren’t bothering me.”

“Oh please.” He lets out a breath of laughter. “You haven’t made a keystroke in over twenty minutes.”

“It’s called incubating.”

“A charming term for a nothing activity. Please move.”

“No.”

“You’re drawing attention.” Now it’s a hiss. 

“Good. Let me finish my article.”

Maybe if you act distressed enough, you’ll get a free pity meal.

“God.” The blonde snarls, snapping his attention behind him, to where a small pod of similarly dressed, similarly toneless people have arrived. “Forget it, Aro. We’re missing it.”

The brunette’s head whips around, as does yours, to catch the last sliver of sun disappearing behind the hills, only the reddest of remnants remaining of its aura on the horizon. Your argument carried you through the entirety of a sunset, and the man — Aro — purses his lips into that same tight smile. Over his shoulder, the blonde retreats, muttering under his breath and merging with the herd.

Seemingly victorious, your fingers hover over the keyboard again, and Aro leans down, not quite in your space. Just close enough for you to find yourself captivated by those filed-straight teeth again.

“A word to the wise —“ He says, tone hushed, pressing a hand to the table. Fingers inches from yours. “That was the Summer solstice drawing to a close, and you made us miss it-“

“I think you took care of that one yourself, actually."

He leans closer. “You’ve drawn enough eyes to protect yourself until the locals forget this, but some of us — my friend Caius, especially — are very fond of our evening routine; and some of us can hold a grudge. You’d do well to move on before the week’s end.”

You’d be happy to punch him if you weren’t thinking so hard about that free meal, so instead, you opt to flash a smile of your own. “You’d do well to eat my ass.”

There’s a pause. A tick of his brow. A tiny twitch at a corner of his mouth. Filmy eyes bore into yours, flickering minutely to your throat.

“Buonanotte. Do try to become at least conversational in Italian.” Aro’s gaze flits to the bare centimetres between your hands. He makes a point to withdraw it across the table, slowly. Like it would simply be beneath him to touch you. “What’s the saying? When in Rome?”

Then, he’s turning. Taking his leave. Shrouded in black cloth the moment he passes into his crowd of gothic friends.

Your gaze lingers on the retreating group. A subtle glance is afforded in your direction from one of the men in his company. Tall. Far too solemn for such an exciting night. 

A young man at a neighbouring table leans over to you, and you’ve spent so long looking at milky white faces at you’re nearly blinded by the hue of his sunburned face. “Ravers.” He comments. American. “Don’t mind ‘em. Probably gonna go take horse tranqs in some warehouse.”

Horse. That’s what you were trying to think of. His hair reminded you of a horse. 

“I am sorry for the commotion.” The hospitality worker returns. A glass of tap water is set down before you. “Could I offer you dinner on the house?”

…

Victory. 

You crack a grin up at your server. “Hey, what’s buonanotte mean?”

__________________________________

For such a compact place, you do not run into Aro again. Nor any of the grimly dressed people that had been in his company. 

Over the weeks spanning your stay, tourists come and go, but many of the faces in Volterra remain the same. Permanent residents remain static and likely have been so for generations. Mornings, recently, have held you in increasingly high regard; your refusal to leave their cramped community with each new brief wave of visitors bringing familiarity usually only reserved for years-old neighbours. Now you're no less annoying than a particularly entitled local.

None of whom, curiously, show any traits of albinism. Funny, considering you’d had a run in with at least half a dozen in a single night. 

“Are you now living here?” A busboy asks in the evening, passing your table (god, you love claiming that) on his way to clean another. You like this one. He’s gotten into a habit of sneaking an extra biscotti onto your saucer when you order. “How is your article?”

“It’s…” The look on your face tells enough to warrant a laugh.

“I have a cousin in Florence. Single.” He explains. “He would take one look at you and fall in love. You can marry him. Take his money. His car? Three wheels. Loser. You can do what ever you want if you marry him.”

“I’ll think about it.” You assure him, turning back to your laptop.

Huh.

Odd.

There’s a smear of black in your periphery again. 

That hasn’t happened since-

Your gaze snaps upward, meeting the eye of the rude bastard who’d made a martyr of you in front of the restaurant. Same phoney smile still plastered on his face. Something surges in your chest — fight instinct activating, readying you rip out a hunk of his hair should the situation call for it. 

You open your mouth. Preparing a scathing slew of words.

“Oh, hi.”

Aro — you recall — doesn’t reply. Not until he plucks a chair from a nearby table and sets it down across from you. At your table. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t apologise. He just sits and watches you with his pleasant expression and his milky eyes and his horse hair. His wake wafts old paper and lint; like community library, or a darkroom, or a basement. 

Your skin runs cold. Oh fuck, is he actually making good on that threat from the other night?

“Buona—“ A gesture is extended to you. 

“—sera?”

“Very good.” He affirms with a too-animated grin. Like you’re a toddler. Bit patronising. “Going native, are you?”

“How do you mean?”

“Caffè in the evening, just like the locals do it. And you’ve been here every night for the better part of three weeks. One might say you were squatting.”

He’s been watching you. 

He’s wearing an identical suit to the one he wore last you’d encountered him. 

He’s a weirdo. You should find another stranger to cling to. Pretend to go home with them to discourage him from following more of your routine—

“Funny. I haven’t seen you.” You reply, bluntly. 

A micro expression must give your thoughts away, because his eyebrows shoot up in mock-surprise. “Oh? Oh. My friends have mentioned seeing you. I hope you don’t mind — we tend to keep an eye out for people who cross our paths. Small circles and what have you.” 

“That’s fair. You did threaten me last time we met.”

“Water under the bridge.” Aro dismisses. “Gossip gets around. People notice you staying.”

Your caution doesn’t dissipate. “Insular but curious?”

His smile widens. “Exactly! I’m Aro."

“I know. I heard one of your friends say it.” You reply, before giving your own name.

“I know.” Aro mirrors, and then fails to follow-up. Then, he moves to stand from his seat, pausing to consider something. “Care to walk with me?” 

“Give me a minute. I’m working.” 

An outright lie. You commit to typing gibberish for several minutes before closing the device and packing it away. All the while, he watches you like he’s watching a fish in a bowl.

“Upfront?” You say, standing, and he follows suit. “I carry a box cutter.”

“Wonderful.”

“Also, I choose where we go.”

He tips steepled fingers in a mockery of a bow. “Of course. Lead the way.”

Cramped as the little city may be, it’s surprisingly much harder to navigate when you’re trying to remain in the most well-lit spots. Conversation speeds up and slows with your meandering and Aro’s occasional interjection, all the while keeping a good bit of distance between you while you walk. His hands remain clasped in front of him, where you can see them. Making a show that he means you no harm. 

He probably won’t murder you tonight, you decide. 

You learn that he’s quite fond of history. That his friends are much the same. Even the ones that are very clearly children have a passion for preserving the arts and maintaining what Aro defines as ’cultural customs’.

It all sounds vague enough to be a little fucking hinky, but there’s a degree of relief that washes over you when Aro assures you they’re not funded by the Catholic church. 

He’s also a bit pretty, and you’re humble enough to admit that your brain goes smooth when you’re confronted with pretty. 

“So what is it you’ve been trying to write all week?” He eventually asks, gaze flickering to the laptop folded under your arms.

“That’s the issue.” You admit. “I haven’t really found my muse.”

“You just write about anything?” He presses.

You snort. “Wouldn’t that be nice. Right now I’m giving travel writing a whirl. Saved up a while after I finished my degree, but the longer I’m out here, the more I’m starting to realise student loans can’t really be paid off in stories.”

“Is it the stories upsetting you?” Aro frowns. “Or the loans?”

“It’s kind of fucking hard to feel inspired when all you’ve got in savings is the plane ticket home.”

“That explains all those free meals you’ve been charming everyone into.”

The heat returns to your face. He’s really been keeping an eye on you.

“Yeah — I’ve, uh—“ You keep your gaze front and centre on the road. “Sort of run out of money.”

Aro considers that for a moment. His steps slow. Then stop.

“Then, would you like a job?” He asks. 

Your brow furrows, thoughts already flicking through every possible trafficking scenario and how to stage a rebuttal, and his hand raises in defence just as you open your mouth. “You would be working with a few young friends of mine.”

You think about that. “Oh, yeah. Very…varied sense of fashion.”

“Heidi’s dress sense is the most modern of us, I assure you. She leads our public outreach, but she’s a single point of contact.” Aro explains, trailing off into thoughtful contemplation. “I like to pride myself on the diversity of our group, but things don’t move as slowly as they once did, and the internet is becoming too big a sandbox for just one voice to be heard so much lately. Perhaps you could lend a hand.”

All of Aro’s words up until that pitch have sounded pretty organic in comparison. That whole thing was rehearsed, for certain. 

“I don’t buy it.”

“Would you, if you had an allowance?”

”Well, yeah. That’s sort of what a job is.” You frown. For an apparently wealthy man, he's not great with employment terminology.

“You’d be compensated more than fairly.” He persists. “Most of us are volunteers, but if it helps put food on our tables, I’d be curious to see how successful you might be.”

He’s got you by the balls with this whole money thing, you won’t lie. It makes it hard to say no.

“What do you and those other two do, then?” You ask, referring to the men he had stuck to his side on your last meeting. Scraping through whatever you can amidst the glamour of his offer just to find something to poke holes in.

“We boss everyone around.”

Once it’s adequately clear that you’re not amused, Aro pivots, resuming his pace. “Marcus is in charge of relations. Caius keeps everyone in line, and I oversee the structure of everything we do.” He expands. “I do a lot of travelling. Talent scouting, recruitment. We’re globally spread. It’s…busy work, keeping track of everyone.”

“Sounds like you don’t have middle management.” You comment. “Why not hire me for that?”

That earns you a chuckle.

”It’s not perfect, but it’s preferable that olive branches are extended personally.”

”So you’re middle management.”

“In less grand terms, you could say I’m intuitive.” Aro explains, lingering for you for fall back into step. When you stop again, he does too. “I’m quite good at reading people.”

“An empath, are we?” You ask drily, turning your attention over the retaining wall at blackened country hills.

He doesn’t pick up on it. “How kind of you to say. No —“ He extends a well-manicured hand to you, keeping respectable distance. Just enough to demonstrate that this is an offer. Not an order. 

He’d look like kind of a jerk if you left him hanging, so you relent and offer your own.

“If I touch you, I can see your thoughts.”

Your hand stops just short of his, pulling away just as he reaches for you. “Sorry. I’m not into the whole street art thing.”

“Not to worry.” Aro assures, outstretching his fingers until the tendons flex over his knuckles. “I’d never commit such an act without your consent.”

“Yeah. I already fell for a a bracelet scam in Barcelona.” You insist. “Once bitten, twice shy. Maybe another time.”

Aro observes you for a long moment. He’s been doing a lot of that, tonight. 

“Perhaps another time.” He agrees, and the beat he takes doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s not used to being denied.

“You’re not rescinding the job offer for that, are you?” You frown.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re friends now.” Aro replies. “Besides; if anything, if you’re sitting in my office I won’t have to worry about you taking my favourite seat outside.”

You squint at him. Unblinking. He only gives you patience in return.

“I’ll get you in contact with one of my colleagues, and one day, you’ll let me perform my party trick for you. Sound agreement?”

It’s all just a little too good to be true, and a little too weird to be charming. You attempt a sympathetic look, but it feels more like an outright wince. “I’m sorry, it’s gonna have to be a no.”

Aro’s lips purse. His fingers lock together at his front, knuckles pressing while he thinks. 

Then, he regards you with a split-second point of his finger. A final bid.

”I’ll pay for your dinner tonight.”

…

Sold.

[oozeandgoo-art]

everyone is sooo in love with vakori on account of le is so cool and smart and deeply pragmatic and is also completely batshit insane

[moinsbienquekaworu]

The struggle between being happy that all kinds of aspecs are talking about aspec experiences more and barely being able to stand the way people talk about aspec experiences

[redysetdare]

idk how to explain that i literally cannot trust you to be normal about aspec ppl if you go around saying "But aro ppl can feel love!!" "Aro and Aces can still date/have friends/love their family!"

like i legit cannot trust you. you cannot support aspec ppl if you directly feed into amatonormativity and have to make us seem palatable to allos.

Do not respond to this post with "But sometimes people assume we cant feel love at all -" because guess what. I literally dont care because people who say that don't care. they're aphobic assholes, we shouldn't have to make ourselves more acceptable sounding. stop erasing a part of the aspec community for 5 seconds I'm begging you. We shouldn't have to make up for our lack of love. we shouldn't have to say we can still love friends and family. that just feeds more into the aphobes ideas of someone being wrong, broken, or evil for not feeling a specific kind of love they expect everyone to feel. DO NOT PLAY THEIR GAMES. please please please stop allowing them to hurt parts of our community just because YOU aren't like that. because YOU think you can be exempt from the hatred by not being the main target of the hatred.

[nohkalikai]

had a convo w k yesterday abt feeling like u need ur friends' attention more than they need urs and i woke up realizing i feel much the same.

[aromanticofficial]

shocking news, The aroallo guy is here to talk abt being aroallo. everybody gasp

anyways. i wanted to explain why aroallos are so "sensitive" about our identity and place in the aspec community.

the aspec community has a sex negativity problem. this is obvious. the amount of "sex bad" takes that are boldly labelled "aspec experiences" instead of what they actually are (puritan culture) is enough to make anyone who actually experiences sexual attraction feel more than unwelcome in the aspec community.

aside from that, there's also the erasure. aromanticism is always treated as a subcategory of asexuality. there's this constant underline to every mainstream-ish discussion of aromanticism that basically comes down to the inherently aroallophobic idea that "not all aces are aro, but all aros are ace". it's not that anyone says this out loud; it's that everyone seems to imply it subtly, everyone seems to believe it without even thinking twice about it.

aside from that, there's the lack of representation. name an aromantic character. chances are, you've just named an aroace character. and even in the very very rare case of a character being canonically aromantic but not canonically asexual (e.g. carpenter from the silt verses), the fandom still treats them being asexual as canon. fandom treats aromanticism as something that must only exist within asexuality, not as its own separate identity.

our fellow aspecs spew aroallophobia at us in a misguided attempt at humor (i've gotten several asks from aroaces telling me i "should" be aroace), our posts are mistagged as asexual when we make it extremely clear they're just about being aromantic (and when we point out that we don't like that, we get called control freaks. true story), the aromantic tag is filled with posts just about asexuality, allos either call us emotional abusers and imply we objectify people by simply experiencing sexual attraction, or imply that we're just afraid of attachment and that they can "fix" us.

the absolutely jarring truth of being an aroallo on tumblr dot com is making a post about being aroallo and immediately getting ten anons telling me i'm "no better than a straight man", "an aroace in denial", "an emotionally abusive predator", or just a slut, while at the same time someone comments on my post "you're making up an issue that doesn't exist" "why are you so mad about this" "you wanna be a victim so bad"

whew. okii that's all. hope that clears stuff up for non-aroallos out there /gen

what they said

[cherubfae]

Hello! I love your writing, it's so cute! Here's an Idea bouncing around in my head: Reader is a shy and easily flustered individual who's developed a crush on Alastor. However they try to keep their distance as they know he's Aro/Ace and doesn't want to overstep boundaries. They go to Lucifer a (somewhat) expert on romance and feelings of longing to vent, also developing a crush on Lucifer- (Reader is a hopeless romantic lol)

Anyway, hope you have a nice day and remember to drink water!

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 || {𝔞𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯, 𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯}

tags: gn!sinner!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, love triangle, miscommunication, blood/injuries, mild nudity mention, divorced!Luci, I had to make it a bit comical, I made this too angsty for my own liking now I'm sad 😭, protective bois

This is a one shot. I won't be writing a part two. Thank you! :)

A dreamy sigh echoes from your lips, swirling down the empty hallway. You're sitting on your bed with your knees pulled to your chest with a clawed hand over your heart. Sometimes you miss the thrum of your heartbeat against your fingers. With all of the people occupying Hell, you didn't expect to feel quite this lonely.

You stare down at the pocket watch in your hands. Such a tiny device cost quite a fortune, but it was a true antique having been manufactured in the 1920s. Your intention was to give it to Alastor. Yet, you never did.

Despite everything in your being wanting you to give him the simple gift, a token of your love and your friendship, you just couldn't. You were already internally setting yourself up for a failure that may not even come. You weren't sure Alastor would ever be into someone, let alone you. So, allowing these thoughts to fester you withdrew yourself from him. Forcing smiles when around him and the others, faking laughter; all of which Alastor could see right through. Every time he tried to seek you out, to confront you, you were already engaged with someone else or another task for the hotel.

You were actively allowing your depression to swallow you whole all the whole not realizing that if you had only asked, Alastor's feelings are the same as yours. He just didn't know how to approach you and Rosie thought it best to let you come to him; yet you never did. Even Alastor was finding it a bit hard to keep that smile on his face. Why won't you just approach him? He...He can't do it. Please.

A dreary day in Hell with violent lightning and thunderclouds and acidic rain brought you into the company of Lucifer Morningstar himself. He could smell your sadness from miles away and like clockwork, he instantly pulls you under his wings.

"Now then, sweetling, what brings you to see the Big Boss Man Himself?" Lucifer grins, crossing his leg over his knee nursing an apple martini with an apple slice hanging off the sugar-dusted edge. He serves you whatever drink you may like, alcoholic or non-alcoholic.

"I'm in love with Alastor and I don't know what to do! I'm scared to get too close to him because I'm not even sure he's into me like that and I don't want to get hurt!" You sob, the words come pooling out of your mouth like a waterfall and so do the tears.

Lucifer visibly bristles at the mention of his rival, almost choking on his drink. With a snap of his fingers, his martini glass vanishes with a poof! His full attention now on you. Gently, he takes your hand in his gloved one.

Softly, he begins. "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real. It's not the end of the world, not by a long shot. Everyone who we meet and who we love crosses our paths for a reason. To teach us something, either for a short chapter or they'll be lifelong companions. Even in the afterlife, there are still people worth risking the hurt for." Smiling wobbly, Lucifer embraces you close. "Take a few deep breaths. If this is truly how you feel, talk to him about it. We may be magic down here in Hell but not all of us are mind-readers, darlin'."

For the first time in a long while, you smile too. Embracing him again with a laugh.

Standing to leave, you turn to your friend. "May I see you again?"

Lucifer let out a tiny gasp, a slight pink hue coating his cheeks. "I'd like that a lot!" He jumps up. "I can show you how to paint rubber ducks!"

When you finally return from your outing, you're in a much more visibly happy mood. With eyebrows raised, Alastor watches from the shadows as you whistle a happy little tune and make your way up the stairs and veer to the left towards your bedroom. A familiar scent clings to your own, one that makes his lips curl back in a vicious snarl. Lucifer.

"Now darling, I think it's time that we have a talk--" Alastor materializes from the shadows, fully manifesting into your bedroom. You shriek in surprise.

Immediately, you snap. "Alastor, what the fuck! OUT."

Alastor, who has been turned away from you, spins to face you aghast that you'd speak to him in such a manner as you never have before, only to quickly cover his eyes. You were standing in the privacy of your bedroom, almost entirely naked except for those flimsy bottoms you called your underwear. Alastor swallows thickly at the sight of your bare skin, even when you wrap your blanket around your body. He feels lightheaded.

"My apologies, dearest. Ta-ta!" In a plume of smoke, Alastor fades out of the room. By the time he returns to his radio tower, he's gasping with his palm covering his face which was now nearly as red as his hair. He's ashamed he hadn't shown more decorum and instead witnessed you in such a state. Even when angry with him, you had never looked more alluring.

Lucifer swung by the hotel rather unexpectedly, surprising Charlie with a new plant for her bedroom and crushing Maggie into a huge hug! The place was really coming along, he had to admit. There was a more inviting atmosphere to the hotel now since it was rebuilt. It almost felt cozy.

"Dad, what brings you by?" Charlie smiles, carefully handing the plant over to Vaggie.

Lucifer smiles. "I'm here to pick up a friend for a little coffee date and I figured I'd say hi to my favorite daughter and my favorite soon-to-be daughter-in-law!" He coos, squishing Charlie's cheeks between his gloved hands.

On queue, you're walking down the stairs into the foyer. "Lucifer!" You beam, a large smile crossing your cheeks. His tummy flutters at the sight. The outfit you had on was darling, suiting you to a T.

A crackle of static explodes into the front lobby, the Radio Demon taking form between you and the Morningstars. Alastor's eyes immediately narrowing at the unwelcomed guest, at least in his mind.

Laughing nervously, Charlie wedges herself between her father and friend. The air rippled with electricity as the two stared the other down.

"Okay, you two, calm down. Let's not start anything, ok?" She glances at Vaggie for help who simply shrugs her shoulders; setting Charlie's new plant baby aside. Approaching slowly you stand by Lucifer's side. Placing a hand on the King's shoulder, Alastor nearly explodes with radio feedback. An eerie green glow consuming his form.

Static voice dripping with malice spits out, "You're going out with him." It wasn't a question.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you nod at Alastor. "We're going out for coffee."

The Radio Demon is practically seething with venomous rage--not at you, but at the puny little shortstack of a King who thinks he can meddle with those in his life. "You don't deserve their attention, Morningstar."

Lucifer balks. "You had your chance, pal! You snooze, you lose." Alastor's expression turns to one of confusion.

"What do you mean?" The radio filter is gone from his voice.

Snarling, Lucifer glowers at him. "They were in love with you! And now I'm here to pick up the pieces-- oh, fuck, you didn't tell him did you, sweetling?" His gaze is gentle as he regards you. You're begging for the ground to swallow you up.

Fighting back tears, you fidget on the spot. You're looking everywhere but at the two men who have held your heart captive. There was the love you held for Alastor, pure and genuine. How you got together like pieces of a puzzle. And then there was your love for Lucifer, intimate and loving. He was able to teach a part of you that you'd long forgotten. He helped you smile again.

Alastor shoves Lucifer out of the way, his clawed hands cupping your face. He wipes away those tiny tears with a gentleness no one in the hotel had seen. "Je t'aime tellement, mon cour."

Lucifer, now in his Full Demon form, shoves Alastor aside and grasps your arm. You let out a cry of pain, making the two males jump. With the appearance of his full form his claws had accidentally sunk too deep into your skin. Red leaked from the four deep gashes slashed across your skin, staining the sleeve of your lovely shirt. Your pretty eyes pooling with tears.

Like a true beast, Alastor explodes into his demonic form, arms outstretched to shield you behind him. Lucifer can only fixate on the blood dripping down your arm. Vaggie and Charlie are tugging you away while Husk prepares the First-Aid kit.

Lucifer is only able to stare at the tiny pool of blood you had left behind and the pain in his eyes. And then there was Alastor, ever the gentleman, always the one fighting for your honor, looking damn well ready to devour the entire fucking Earth for you.

And Lucifer felt he deserved whatever he had coming to him. His own words echo in his head: "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real."

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[royal-wren]

In honor of Pride, I'm going to list a few Hellenic deities to think of more actively during this time

Aphrodite: Historically known to be intersex and trans, especially under the name Aphroditos. Not to mention as a goddess of love, that means all kinds of love and expressions of it. Everyone in the LGBT+ umbrella can turn to her without worry.

Apollon: He is known for epithets like the Unshorn, and for literally wearing feminine clothing for the time.

Artemis: Known for embracing masculinity and more masculine traits like her interests, mannerisms, and appearance (attire). Also known to be aro/ace spec.

Athene: Most know her to lean more toward masculinity, but she's more an equal mix of both masculine and feminine (nonbinary by human terms). Also known to be aro/ace spec and wlw as well.

Dionysos: Like Apollon, is known for wearing feminine clothing for the time and occasionally a feminine appearance to match. Embracing the unconventional and what lies outside of society's standards and mentalities is his thing, and it shows with epithets like Androgynos.

Hekate: A goddess of the liminal (everything in between), boundaries, and transitions, of paths and crossroads (which are more than physical ones).

Hera: As a goddess of women, that includes every kind of woman no matter what, there is no room to try and exclude anyone from that. She's also a goddess of marriage and one to lean on for rights on that matter.

Hermes: A god of the liminal, the god of transitions, boundaries, paths, and roads, and a god of romantic unions, the god of fire - the literal and figurative sparks that ensue as a god of friction, a weigher of love like Aphrodite. Before the late Classical and Hellenistic periods was also known to be aro/ace spec as outside of cultic unions, a majority of his immortal (and deity) children are goddesses as well, and he has two nonbinary (one intersex) children, Palaistra and Hermaphroditos, and occasionally the father of Eros either by Aphrodite or Artemis (and no this is real, you're just not ready for this conversation on this information).

Leto: In worship, she has the cult epithet Phystiê (the Grafter) that relates to a myth of her helping Leukippe transition at the wishes of his mother to avoid death. With the grafter epithet, she has a festival in her honor, Ekdysia (Stripping (Festival)). One of her sacred animals is the Ichneumon (Egyptian Mongoose), which was known to be both male and female in an individual member of the species.

Palaistra: The goddess of wrestling and daughter of Hermes is nonbinary, being both genders at once and neither at the same time

The Erotes: It kind of goes without saying that they should be here for a month of love, identity, and acceptance.

The Kharites: As goddesses of joy, merriment, and festivity/celebration, it feels as essential to have them here as the Erotes are. During Pride, they will lift your spirits and cause you to cheer.

[blog-sliverofjade]

Hell, I have visceral flashbacks to "lesbo," "homo," "faggot," and "dyke."

Any term we use to define ourselves will be used against us, especially if it's one of solidarity that makes it harder to try and attack us as individuals.

Labeling myself as queer saves me from dealing with infighting about who's valid and who isn’t, usually, because guess what? PEOPLE DON'T FIT INTO NEAT LITTLE BOXES! And I'm not going to break out the flowchart of who I am, especially when it comes to people who want to police how I refer to myself, in which case it becomes "queer as in fuck you."

Kill the inner cop.

Do you genuinely not understand that there are LGBT people who have been traumatized by terms like 'queer' because they have attached them to acts of unspeakable violence and threats to their lives from their own personal experiences, or do you just enjoy being terrible? Is this historical illiteracy at work or just complete lack of empathy?

Not historical illiteracy or a complete lack of empathy but a secret third thing (you have invented a guy to be mad at and I'm not her)

[otomes-world]

From time to time I see notifications with likes of my not quite au with rsa!mobs. Also considering that I liked Neigh from the very beginning and wrote fics about him, one idea came up. I will regret it very much, very much, but..

As if, now my old-new impression of the characters is like this.

Here they are from left to right:

Aro, - we'll leave the names as they were originally intended, in order to honor of the original author - the quietest and most suspicious of the three. You're walking down the street, there he is. You went into the store to buy some groceries, he's standing in front of the checkout. You went jogging in the woods, and there he is, too.

His image plays into his hands as many times as it takes. At some point, you notice him in the distance or, on the contrary, very close, it doesn't matter, and you begin to consider him part of the background. Who are you to bother him, right?

A huge miscalculation on your part. Because when he actually approaches you to talk for the first time - for any reason - you won't suspect anything strange. Hell, you've known each other for so long. Even if for most of this "time" he simply existed. He's become so integral to your life that it's strange to go shopping without seeing at least the top of his head.

His constant sleepiness completes the picture. You can't help but worry about him, because he could be anywhere at any time. Not everyone around you is as kind or understanding as you.

He's not like all the other boys around you. He doesn't get into fights, he's not rude - he rarely speaks, to be honest - he's a model child and student. If there was an award called "Any Teacher's Dream", he would be in nominating hall as well.

He always listens, no matter what nonsense or stupidity you ask. You were talking about the lifestyle of snowy owls, so why did you stop? Aro doesn't mind if you lecture him about these birds, even if it started an hour ago and it's past midnight now.

As soon as he confesses, you… what are you? It's like he's become such permanent part of your life that you have been dating for a long time. You call him for help. You share with him very first breaking news. You ask him for advice. At some point, you have to wonder if you even had any friends before Aro came along.

Silver or Quicksilver, he is that very child who grew up on fairy tales about brave knights who slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. The very one who will come to sing you a serenade under your window and will dodge flying pillows of awakened ghosts along the way.

The one who will be watching you from the far end of the street, on the opposite side, and when you give in and come over to clear things up, he will drop to one knee and propose marriage right then and there. Ignoring your completely unimpressed gaze, he will look at you with his glowing, childlike eyes.

Getting rid of him is some miracle, no doubt, but you return to the dorm, and there is a pair of white doves with a wreath waiting by the door. Where did he even find them? Are there any companies that provide services of specially trained birds that deliver boxes? What do you mean, there is a whole dovecote of them in the RSA? What do you mean, you will receive flowers and gifts regardless of whether you want them or not?

As soon as you give up on trying to appeal to his working brain cells - you have already convinced yourself that he does not have any - he will jump up and start apologizing for his behavior, simultaneously adding compliments to you in his speech. At some point, you come to terms with the fact that the whole street is watching the unfolding scene. No, you are not filming a teen drama. No, you are seeing him for the first time in your life. No, he is not crazy… although, perhaps, people are right about that.

Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you slowly resigned yourself to the idea of ​​turning your dorm into a flower shop. The other students began to run away when they saw you in the hallway, as you handed out flowers to everyone you met. When you ran out of people, you went around for a second round. Then a third...

Good luck trying to explain to this RSA prince, one of the RSA princes, that things don't work like that. As you left with another bouquet, you mentally figured out who you could give it to.

Raven. A fine, well-mannered young man. He never raises his voice, always lends a helping hand to those in need. Wait, why does he have such a sly, suspicious look? If you ask him directly, he will put on an innocent expression and ask in response, “Aren't you imagining things?”

No, you're not. You are more than sure that you have seen the way he looks at RSA-Silver when he thinks that no one is watching. Your compass, magnetized by all the overblots and other NRC students, works like a clock for such things. You will not let his pretty face fool you.

Exactly, but now you are sitting in a cafe and discussing… what were you discussing?.. He has a mysterious ability to bring arguments in the most neglected cases and convince you to do what you initially did not want. After two minutes of conversation, you no longer remembered your complaints about him, as if they had not existed in the first place. All problematic issues are listened to and turn into such trifles that it is worth considering whether you were dissatisfied with something.

He is attentive, always noticing the smallest changes and reading your mood like an open book. You were thirsty, so he hands you a bottle of water. You were thinking about something sweet, what a coincidence, he has some of your favorite candies in his pocket. You seemed to want to eat a certain cuisine, and during lunch he asks if you would like to visit a cafe where it is served.

At some point, everyone starts considering you a couple long before you hear him confess. It's exactly as you wanted it, as well as it completes the picture perfectly. You tried to refuse, but the same thing happens. He turns all your negatives about the relationship into reasons why you should say yes. This doesn't obligate you to anything. You are mature understanding individuals who are taking closer look at each other. Dating someone doesn't mean that you have to spend your whole life together.

However, you get the idea that it will be impossible to break up with him.

[madamefeu]

Hi! Here’s what your favorite Hazbin Hotel ship says about you!

Radiodust: You're an old-timer who's been around since the pilot. One off-handed joke about Angel Dust wanting to suck Alastor's dick was all it took for you to start shipping them. You always ship the two most attractive male characters together in your fandoms, even if they have no real connection

Huskerdust: I’m not going to touch this one because I’ll probably get death threats if I don’t tell the Huskerdust fandom exactly what they want to hear

Radiorose: Hello, aro-ace community! You love this because they're the closet thing to a canon queerplatonic couple that currently exists in mainstream media, and as a fellow aro-ace, I’m in the exact same boat

Chaggie: You like the idea of forbidden love, but you're not interested in handling all of the social/political ramifications of it, and would prefer to conveniently gloss over both of those things just like in the show. This ship has the flavor profile of vanilla ice cream with chocolate chips, and so does your personality

Lucifer/Lilith: You only want one thing in this life, and that is for a powerful woman to step on your neck. You are a bottom to end all bottoms

Radioapple: Daddy kink, but in a voyeuristic way. You like watching two dads doing each other, but there is no way you’d ever let them touch you, no, all you want is to watch them go at it

Rosiemilla: Mommy kink, but in a voyeuristic way

Radiohusk: Oh, you would let a man do unspeakable things to you if he was hot enough. You read dark romances and you want a dark romance to happen to you in real life

Cherrisnake: You are absolutely terrible at handling your feelings for everyone you've ever crushed on, and will try to convince yourself that you hate the object of your affections because you lack the courage needed to make a move on them. It would take a life or death situation for you to tell your crush how you really feel about them, and even then you'd be more afraid of telling them than of dying

Guitarspear: Hello, Adam simps! You binge-read workplace romances and you fantasise about dating your boss even though he's a dick 90% of the time. Strangely, the fact that he's a dick makes you even more attracted to him

Staticmoth: Your ideal ship is two horrible people who deserve each other. You want what they have, but at the same time you don't

Zestmilla: Your preferred aesthetic is old married couple core, and I respect that. You binge-read found family fics on AO3, and your favorite tag is hurt/comfort

Radiostatic: You love the idea of someone being obsessed with you when you have no interest in them. You like to laugh at their, quite frankly, pathetic attempts to get you to notice them, and you're waiting for the day when the penny will drop and they'll realise that they are nothing to you, and never will be

Arackpentious: You have never cared about canon, and you don't intend to start now. You probably simp for Sir Pentious and use Arackniss as a self-insert. We know barely any canon information about him, so it's easy for you to project yourself onto him so that you can get doubly-dicked down by the Victorian snake man

Charlastor: You're all about the aesthetic. You got into this ship because there's an abundance of gorgeous fanart for it, even if there's no chance of them being together in canon. You don't care about that, however, because they look beautiful together and that's all that matters to you

Radiomimzy: You wish that the old canon of Mimzy being Alastor's girlfriend was still canon

Royalhalo: You hate Vaggie and you think that Charlie deserves better than her, and who better than the sugary sweet angel who was the first to hear Charlie out and argue in her favor when she found out the truth about the exterminations?

Cherridust: You are aggressively heterosexual and you believe that it is impossible for a man and a woman to be friends without one or both secretly harboring feelings for the other. You binge-read friends to lovers fics on Wattpad, and if a man so much as says hi to a woman, you will ship them

Cherrimoth: You like enemies to lovers, but in a bitch eating crackers kind of way. You either have a crush on someone that you love to hate from afar, or you want to fall in love with someone who hates you from afar

[redysetdare]

Hey if you're romance or sex repulsed just know that's is fine to be repulsed. You have the right to express your feelings. You have the right to take up space in the aro and ace communities. There's nothing wrong with you. You're not a morally bad person. You aren't spreading a stereotype or negativity by sharing your experience. You deserve to be here just as much as everyone else. You shouldn't have to silence yourself in favor of others.

You deserve support. You deserve representation. You deserve activism and protection. You deserve to be heard and seen.