#and some of whom (not all) are actually trying to be better despite the constant dehumanisation

[what-shitfuckery-is-this-ew]

I want people to read their scientific articles before sending them to me. Like actually read the entire thing or at least read the conclusion. Reading the first line and thinking that that means you understand the entire topic is very inaccurate, and it makes you look like a joke when i actually read it and find that it contradicts your point.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Of All Things, I Became an Aranara

You always imagined that if you woke up in the world of Genshin, the possibilities of being a Visionless wielder of elements and a slew of romantic shenanigans would lie in your wake. But when you instead find yourself in the body of an Aranara with romance likely out of the question, your only conclusion is that the gods of reincarnation isekai hate your guts.

cw. you're an aranara

pairing. scaramouche/wanderer x reader, cyno x reader, kaveh x reader, candace x reader (separate)

notes. don't feel like being an aranara today? well go ahead and go to the series masterlist and see what your life could be if you were something else in genshin.

While you would have preferred being human, you have to admit there are few things better than turning into an Aranara. You've most assuredly been given Genshin non-humanoid pretty privilege with beautiful powers concerning plants and dreams to boot.

An even bigger benefit is that you can talk, so communicating with humans in this world will be a cinch.

The only thing you can really complain about now is that you aren't really able to handle salt and spices the way you used to. But to be honest, if that's the only thing you have to complain about, you'll gladly settle with being one of the musically-inclined leaf children of the rainforest.

All of whom are your friends despite the predicament you've found yourself in. You may have technically lost the isekai 50/50 but you feel like you've won in a lot of ways too.

Scaramouche

Ironically enough he was one of the easiest individuals on the list to befriend. Why? You met him when his memories were completely reset to zero and he had a much more sweet and calm demeanor

Considering the sharp-tongue Scaramouche you're used to, it honestly gave you whiplash

Still, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the guy, bright eyed and full of wonder. It was the constant abandonments and perceived abandonments that turned Scara into the person he came

You accompany him when he regains his memories, after which he assumes that now you know the extent of his true character and the things he's done that you'll leave him now. he even encourages you to do so, shooing you away

you plopping your small self across his shoulder and telling him he's your best friend means a lot to him, even if he tells you in response that you're an idiot but you can do as you wish

Before and after regaining his memories, Scara is very clingy. Before regaining them, he slept with you nestled to his chest much like a child would a teddy bear. Afterwards, he considers it too soft and embarrassing to do so but if you snuggle up against him well, he won't stop you

Once you got lost while exploring and when you didn't come back within the time he expected you to, he grew quite panicked and nearly turned the entire forest upside down trying to find you

When he did, you were promptly scolded for making him have to look for you. What's the matter with you? Don't go traveling somewhere unfamiliar or you'll just make him have to waste time backtracking to look for you

(He was scared that you had gotten eaten or hurt or worse, that you decided to no longer travel with him, leaving him to be alone all over again)

Whenever he has nightmares, you turn his dreams into ones much happier. He tells you to stay out of his head but he appreciates the fanciful worlds you craft for him

You're also quite handy when he needs to avoid his new fanbase from the Akademiya. Taking him to the dream world to avoid talking to people is quite a useful trick of yours

But as it turns out, Scaramouche is quite popular with the Aranara and they all love to indulge him. So you kinda have some competition

You can't believe you're actually getting jealous of Aranaras. Wow, how the mighty have fallen

Cyno

A son of the desert who grew up in the rainforest, Cyno heard of stories regarding the Aranara but he never thought they'd be real. But as far as he is concerned, you're as much a citizen of Sumeru as he is

So Cyno quickly rolls with the punches and treats you accordingly with respect. Talk about a win!

But as far as you being a travel companion? Cyno isn't entirely sure since his work concerns apprehending wayward scholars and their affiliates. It's dangerous, so unless you can prove yourself to be sturdy enough to protect yourself, he'll tell discourage you from following him

Of course, he can't rightly force a creature of Dendro and dreams from doing that anyway if you stubbornly continue on with him

Thankfully, you can set his worries aside when you show not only are you adorable, but resourceful, using your powers of Dendro to apprehend criminals attempting to flee the scene when Cyno arrives (all while staying hidden in the realm of dreams. You're not trying to put a target on the back of every Aranara after all)

That aside, you don't really have any troubles with Cyno. When he rests by campfire, he will make sure you stay a comfortable distance from the flames and will teach you about GI TCG and will even tell you a joke or two (or three)

Cyno is a reliable companion. He'll protect you if you are under his protection but he doesn't make you feel less than because you're not human either

But when he isn't in work mode, he is very sweet and even let's you wear his headdress from time to time as long as you are careful with it. In return you place flower crowns atop his head

Is another protective companion. As one brought from the desert to the rainforest for the sake of experiments, Cyno knows what could happen should those at the Akademiya find out that Aranaras are more than just a tale for children

So he always makes sure you aren't sighted by those he cannot trust

Kaveh

Meeting Kaveh was a bit of an accident as you had to help disentangle from a mess of vines

For someone blessed with the power of Dendro, he isn't really one who naturally has an affinity for plants

As such, he is embarrassed when you find him in this situation. Embarrassed and quite amazed to find out that Aranara aren't just stories. One getting him out of a mess like this isn't really how Kaveh ever imagined meeting one back when he was a child

That aside, Kaveh straightens himself out, thanks you and honestly he tries to be polite about it but he has plenty of questions about your being an Aranara that you can't really answer outside of lore you got from the game

You tell him that you'll look out for him when he is prancing about the rainforest so he can avoid these sorts of mishaps in the future which he insists is unnecessary

But you're not trying to be stuck living in nature forever, you want to make sure you have guaranteed safety. It also helps that if you're going to attach yourself to a human in the game, they aren't just some random NPC. A player character comes with a certain level of stability you appreciate

Kaveh's too good an opportunity to pass up and Mehrak is quite cute too. Win-win situation

Out of everyone here though sadly, Kaveh treats you most like a pet. Something no one wants to get from a hot guy even if you understand why he treats you so

At least he gives you plenty of sweets to eat?

You become a surprising point of comfort for Kaveh when he grows frustrated with his roommate. You tend to use your powers of Dendro to weave flowers through his hair during those moments and listen when he vents

You think his kindness does him more harm than good and that he tends to be his worst critic, so you tell Kaveh to be kinder to himself

Candace

A desert really isn't the place for an Aranara but you stubbornly decided to try your luck at it anyway against your better judgement (and the advice of your fellow Aranara)

But a couple of near death experiences aside, you think you made a good decision when you get to Aaru Village. The children there are very sweet and fascinated by you, having never seen an Aranara themselves

So you become quite popular among them, making them all sweet dreams and becoming a sort of... Guardian, one might say

You also help maintain the few plantlife of Aaru Village from Sabbah's flowers to the ajilenakh trees

It isn't much work but it's honest work

Candace thought nothing of it, thinking it was cute for the children of the village to have something to talk about

Then she ran into you trying (and failing) to get some food from the storage and that is how you were discovered by the actual Guardian of Aaru Village

Despite that little mishap, Candace is sweet to you and presents to you the same rules she gives all guests of Aaru. She also appreciates you helping with the children

So she doesn't disagree when you label yourselves as a sort of duo protecting everyone in different ways

Candace seldom has time to rest or enjoy any sort of personal time, so you try to be her invisible company in the day and you pester her to take breaks

You'd threaten to keep her contained in vines to make her take a break but you know she is infinitely stronger than your own abilities

How else can she fight monsters for hours at a time without tiring?

Still if you're at that level of desperate to make her rest, Candace promises to take more breaks along the day and rely more on her fellow guards

[headfulloflettuce]

Puppet Darling - Part 7

Credit: Inspired by @wallflowers-in-the-wind’s post here.

Warning: angst, Feyre is entering her depression arc.

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

Nesta was having the time of her life, or at least, it seemed that way to Feyre. From training in the woods, to enjoying the library in Eris’s cabin she seemed to thrive. 

Elain had once again found purpose in gardening. Apparently she had brought some Spring Court seedlings and had begun growing them in Autumn, trying to cross pollinate the different types of plants.

During one of his visits Eris had discovered her experiments, and had kindly requested that she ‘doesn’t create something that will eat them alive’.

Feyre thought the idea of a man eating plant to be silly but Elain took Eris’s comment as a challenge, and was now determined to create the very thing he said not to do. She may be orchestrating a forest coup. Against whom? Feyre wasn’t certain, yet.

Meanwhile, Feyre was bored. Happy? Satisfied? Perhaps content was a better word to describe her current state.

She didn’t feel happy, but she wasn’t sad either. 

Nyx babbled as she fed him another spoon of applesauce.

“What are we going to do today?” she smiled at the baby.

Nyx pointed to the plushie.

“You want to play?”

He waved his arms, pointing to the window as well.

“Outside?”

Nyx nodded.

Feyre shrugged, feeding him the rest of his applesauce and taking him out of the baby chair Eris had graciously provided, along with toys, clothes and other necessities. She carried Nyx outside, bringing the one toy she took from Spring Court, a couple Autumn ones and a blanket so that he wasn’t crawling around in the mud. 

Autumn was so vibrant. Feyre still hadn’t gotten used to all the red and orange despite the weeks spent doing the exact same thing over and over again.

Feeding Nyx.

Playing with Nyx.

Bathing Nyx.

Getting Nyx to sleep.

Sleep for only four hours of stupid Rhys.

Repeat.

As if on cue the mating bond came to life with an obligatory tug. Feyre wasn’t certain if he was actually being gentler or if she had gotten used to his constant presence.

A part of her wanted to be angry. To want more. To want stimuli besides the sounds of the trees rustling and the occasional crow.

I should be grateful for what I have. I am free.

She looked at the black haired boy as she sat him down on the blanket, letting him wriggle around, smacking at the stuffed animal, making it fall over.

Feyre crossed her legs, toying with the grass next to her. She hated to admit it but she felt lonely. Elain, Nesta and her had taken on an avoidance routine the past couple weeks, meeting up only during the mornings which tended to end in arguments.

Feyre tried to stay positive.

It’s for the best. They can finally move on and have good lives, even if it’s without me.

Feyre shook her head.

It would be fine. We avoided each other back then and we still co-existed. Although, coexistence doesn’t mean to enjoy each other’s company…

She almost felt guilty for wanting to go back to a time where they were stuck in that rundown house and were on the brink of starvation each winter.

At least we had shared some degree of trust then. Somewhat. On second thought, we didn't act particularly more friendly than either. 

Feyre scrunched her face, recalling the insults Nesta had thrown at her, and the ones she had thrown right back. It had always gotten ugly.

How did Elain survive us?

The bushes near the edge of the clearing that the cabin was located on suddenly shook, and Nesta peeked through the greenery, Eris’s smokehounds following loyally after her.

“Oh, Nesta, you’re back early.” Feyre quickly stood up, approaching her sister, still keeping an eye on Nyx. She didn’t feel comfortable with how her voice pitched an octave higher from excitement.

“I forgot to grab water before going on the run.” Nesta grabbed a bottle, chugging the liquid inside it, the loose athletic clothing of Autumn Court gently swaying in the breeze as she drank. One of the hounds that had accompanied her sat down at her feet, catching his breath.

“Do you want to join me and Nyx?”

“I need to get back to training. I want to make it to the actual cliffside this time.”

“Just for a bit.”Feyre hoped she didn’t sound too desperate.

“I told you, I am busy.”

“Fifteen minutes is enough.” she felt like she was begging her to chop wood again. Feyre knew it wasn’t exactly the same, but still.

“Seriously? You think I want to spend time with that freak’s kid?” Nesta snapped.

He’s my kid too.

Feyre persisted, “What about me?”

“What about you?” Nesta raised an eyebrow.

“I want to spend time with you.”

Do you not want to spend even a second with me?

Nesta looked at her with a stoic expression breaking eye contact as she sighed, “I think we’ve spent enough time together at all your family junctions. Some distance would do us some good.”

“They were our family junctions.”

It was one of the few ways he allowed me to visit you.

“No Feyre, they were YOUR family’s events. Not mine. Last time I checked you threatened me with my rent to show up.”

“I genuinely wanted you there.” Feyre whispered.

“Yeah well I sure felt fucking welcomed.” Nesta said sarcastically, “No better way to welcome a sibling than to threaten her with money hm?”

“I am sorry, that was his idea, I didn’t agree-”

“How convenient that everything was his idea!” Nesta threw her hands up, exasperated, “One minute you’re on my ass and then the next you’re apologizing for every little thing, pick a lane Feyre!”

“I am not apologizing for little things!” Feyre’s scowled, “You were spirling-”

“Oh, great, now I am the one with the issu-”

“But you shouldn’t have been locked up in the House of Wind. You should have just received payment for all the work you did while in Night Court and been permitted complete independence.”

Although I didn’t really want to do that.

Feyre knew that would have been the right thing to have done, but she hadn’t wanted to let go. If she could keep taking care of Nesta, and with Rhysand’s money she could have, there is no reason why she shouldn’t. 

She had always taken care of Nesta and  Elain. Sure they were adults. Sure they didn’t need her, but they still needed her right? Right?

Nesta narrowed her eyes.

“I truly am sorry.” Feyre mumbled, “I am sorry for the House of Wind. I am sorry for how Rhysand has treated you, for how he has threatened you. I promise, if I could have, and I tried, I would have torn him to shreds for saying he would kill you. I am sorry for letting Cassian near you when you weren’t ready. I am sorry for letting him take you on that stupid hike.” Feyre’s breath hitched as she met Nesta’s eyes.

“You…you don’t believe me.” Feyre searched for any hint of trust in Nesta’s face.

“I do believe he had you somewhat under his control.” Nesta conceded, “Too many things line up, and your behavior is too different now for it to not have been the case. However, I don’t believe that you’re just some victim in all this. I don’t believe for a minute that you didn’t seek pleasure in watching me and Elain suffer.”

“Nesta, I would ne-”

“Shut up, I am not finished.” Nesta cut her off, “I don’t believe that all of a sudden you feel remorse for all these things because the Feyre that I knew was a stubborn, pain in the ass. The Feyre I knew was strong.”

You’re saying that just to be hurtful.

“You were nagging, and annoying but you were strong. Resilient like a damn cockroach. I don’t believe you would let Rhysand take over your mind so easily, which means you gave him permission. You wanted whatever he offered you.”

“I didn’t nag, I wanted us to survive. I tasked you with things that needed to get done.” Feyre didn’t address what Nesta truly said, her words having struck a core fear of hers.

What if it had been me all along?

“Things that needed to get done? What about house chores, what about any of the things you didn’t do Feyre?”

Feyre paused, “I am sorry, you’re right. I was dismissive of the work you and Elain put in-”

“Stop saying that you’re sorry.” Nesta snarled, “You’re lying to us when you say you’re sorry and that you had completely no control over the situation. And worse of all you’re lying to yourself.”

Feyre didn’t have an answer.

“What? You have the powers of all the High Lords no? Seems like you should be strong enough to overpower at least one of them.”

“Nesta, Rhysand is powerful, you don’t under-”

“He’s only as powerful as you think he is.” Nest said flatly, turning around and heading back to the tree line.

“Nesta, that’s not how it works.” Feyre tried to take a step after her but Nesta’s glare stopped her.

“Stop saying that you’re sorry, it’s too fucking late.”

Feyre stood there silently, watching Nesta as she disappeared into the treeline, the hounds following after.

She was right, it was too late.

Feyre looked down at her hands.

Did I really not try hard enough?

Nyx’s coos and calls slowly brought her to the presence, as she turned back to the picnic blanket, taking a seat beside her child who shoved the stuffed animal towards her. Feyre didn’t have the energy to pick it up however, gently shoving it back towards him.

Nyx frowned, wanting an active playmate.

I was right from the start; the best thing I can do is give them space.

The mating bond hummed, as if supporting whatever Nesta had just said. Feyre knew it was her imagination. There was no way he could know the details of her conversations, catching at most the general emotions she felt. 

She put her head in her hands.

What am I supposed to do?

Feyre startled as she heard an animalistic snort behind her, the heavy feeling that had taken root lifting slightly as she jumped to her feet. Turning around, she saw Tamlin’s beast form, carrying a heavy bag. Feyre relaxed a bit, watching as he approached, sitting beside the picnic blanket and gently placing the bag down.

Nyx stared up at the animal in wonder, desperately trying to crawl over to see him closer. Tamlin snorted again, as if laughing, lowering his head so Nyx could look at him up close. The baby quickly grabbed at Tamlin’s snout, patting it. Tamlin’s eyes crinkled, booping Nyx’s nose, more like face, with said snout.

Nyx giggled, trying to touch him again.

Tamlin used his snout to roll Nyx over onto his back.

Nyx shrieked, flapping his wings and startling the beast, making him stop

Tamlin looked at Feyre confused.

Nyx laughed.

“He’s having fun, you can continue.” Feyre gave him permission, watching as Tamlin gently pushed Nyx again, making him roll back onto his tummy.

As Nyx wriggled, getting gently rolled about the blanket, Feyre approached the bag Tamlin had brought.

Noticing her interest the High Lord of Spring chuffed, giving her a small nod as permission to proceed.

She opened it to find some of the same stuff he had brought her when he had visited the cottage in Spring Court.

He didn’t have to.

Feyre couldn’t help the small smile on her lips nonetheless. Sure, Eris had given her everything she may have needed to take care of Nyx, but this felt nice.

Tamlin rolled Nyx back over to Feyre, making sure to be careful with his movements, the baby hugging his snout, breaking down into a fit of giggles.

Pulling away from Nyx, the beast shifted into Tamlin, dressed in his usual Spring attire; a tunic and some brown pants.

Nyx let out a disappointed sound but Tamlin ignored his protests, plopping down beside Feyre. He looked happy. Gone was the tiredness and paleness Rhysand had described to her, and present was confidence and contentment.

True contentment.

“The weather is nice today.” Tamlin said.

He’s still bad at conversations though.

“Yes it is.”

“Tulips are in full bloom back in Spring.”

She hummed.

“Oh, and so are the marigolds in Autumn.” Tamlin pointed to some fiery flowers.

“Tamlin…why are you here?”

Didn’t you get rid of us by leaving us with Eris? Why visit?

“Well, you left all the baby stuff so I thought I should probably bring it over.” Tamlin rubbed his neck awkwardly.

Eris is an older brother, he has plenty of baby stuff to give us.

Feyre raised an eyebrow at him.

He sighed, “I wanted to see you.”

“See me?”

“Just check in, you know? Make sure you all are doing okay.”

Wow, that’s surprisingly sweet.

Feyre forced a smile onto her face. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. Perhaps the years of being a living doll had left her with some benefits after all.

“I am okay, thank you for checking in though. Nesta and Elain are settling in great as well.”

“Right.” he said, the concern in his eyes not abating, “What have you been up to?”

She shrugged, “Nothing much, just spending time with Nyx.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, taking care of a baby is kind of a fulltime job Tamlin.”

“That’s understandable…I just…” Tamlin picked his words carefully, “Have you had time for yourself?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she glared.

She knew what it meant. From her dirty hair, to the bags under her eyes, she was aware she looked like a mess.

“You look like you need to rest.”

“I am fine.”

“You don’t look it.” he said softly.

“Well I am!” she forced a cheerful tone, but it came out too sweet.

“If your sisters are unable to sit with Nyx, I can.” he gently offered.

Feyre growled, as the mating bond hummed with fury, supporting her rage.

“I do not mean offense.” Tamlin raised his hands in surrender, “I recognize the suggestion is unorthodox…you wouldn’t want to leave a child with a random male at the moment.”

You’re not a random male though.

She massaged her growing headache, trying to shove the mating bond away, “No, I am not offended, but it’s fine. My sisters can watch Nyx if necessary.”

Tamlin nodded, not pushing further, “Okay, that’s good to hear.”

Nyx was annoyed that the fluffy creature who had been playing with him disappeared and wriggled his way over to Tamlin, his wings angled awkwardly, smacking his leg demandingly.

“He really is an adorable baby.” Tamlin smiled gently, shifting just his hand, surprising Nyx, who quickly grabbed at the fluffy paw, staring at it.

“He is.” Feyre agreed, “When he’s not waking you up at three in the morning.”

Not that I am sleeping then anyways. Rhysand seems to not have any other High Lord duties besides make my life a living hell at night.

Feyre watched Tamlin as he let Nyx be curious about his large paw, letting him tug on the fur.

At least Rhysand was always willing to play with Nyx.

She was certain of one thing when it came to Rhys, and that was that he wouldn’t hurt his child. He had honestly taken on more of a maternal role to Nyx than she did at the beginning. Spending time with him, feeding him, changing diapers. 

Feyre almost thought that the male felt regret over his past actions, trying to give her time to heal and rest.

Regardless of what the High Lord of Night had been thinking, seeing Tamlin play with the black haired baby felt so domestic. Completely different from when Rhysand showered Nyx with gifts, took him outside in his stroller, or held him during meetings with the inner circle…

Maybe I was the crazy one? Maybe Rhysand was actually a wonderful partner and I was just causing hassle for everyone involved?

“Do you believe me?” she asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“Do you believe that Rhysand controlled me? That he used his daemati powers on me?”

“Of course.”

“Truly?”

Tamlin nodded, “Why do you ask?”

“Is there really no way I could have fought him off?”

“I am sure you did all you could.”

You say that, yet what if Nests was right? What if I let him win? What if I did want all of this?

Tamlin narrowed his eyes at her, gently taking her hands into his, “Feyre look at me.”

Feyre hesitantly met his green eyes.

“It’s not your fault. Do not let him or anyone else convince you that you actually wanted everything he made you do.”

“But what if I did?” she voiced her fear, “I did want some degree of revenge on my sisters, I did want security, I did want my family together and he gave me all of it. So…so doesn’t it mean that I let it happen?”

“He gave you a perverse version of it.” Tamlin softened, “Daemati…they’re good at making you think you want something, and even better at feeding into your existing desires and convincing you that the thing you got was what you actually wanted all along.”

Feyre blinked away tears.

“Your actions then weren’t fully of your own accord.” Tamlin reiterated firmly.

“I am sorry for hurting you.” she said, “I am sorry for hurting your court. I never meant for it to turn out like that.” Feyre tried to cover her face but Tamlin gently pulled her hands away once more.

“I know.”

She stared at him.

“I believe you.”

Feyre blinked, sniffling, and quickly wiping away her tears.

“Thank you.”

He shook his head, “No need to thank me.”

“There is a need though. You’re helping us.”

He looked at her sadly, “No, I am merely helping to fix what I helped break.”

Feyre looked back to Nyx, her fears although soothed, not gone. 

What if it can’t be fixed?

Feyre felt Rhysand tug at the mating bond but didn’t do anything to stop him, too sleepy and tired to deal with him.

She suddenly felt a feeling of worry and concern flood her from the other side, followed by gentler but still harsh tugs trying to get a rise out of her.

Don’t worry I am not dead.

She shoved the bond away again.

The worry lessened, but still persisted, attempting to question her on her wellbeing.

Feyre didn’t respond, getting out of bed instead, Nyx still sleeping.

Days had passed turning to weeks and the monotony of it all didn’t seem too bad.

Maybe this is how Elain got by back at our old home.

Feyre carefully picked up Nyx, carrying him with her to the kitchen.

Just existing. Detached.

Feyre set the kettle and began preparing breakfast for all of them. Elain quietly slipped into the room, taking a seat at the dining table followed by Nesta, “Since I am such a terrible sister who let you hunt.”

“Nesta, could you let Eris know we need more food?”

“Why don’t you go hunting instead?” Nesta snapped.

“I am not that hungry…” Elain murmured softly, slipping out of the cabin.

It had gotten worse the past week. She and Nesta could barely exchange two words without being at each other's throats.

Elain simply avoided them.

“You’re not a terrible sister…” Feyre trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe their relationship.

Whatever it was called though, it certainly wasn’t good.

“Right, you say that now.”

“I told you that I am sorry, the things I said then we-”

“Just because you didn’t mean them doesn’t make them go away!” Nesta yelled, her voice full of exasperation and Feyre…she just felt so tired.

“It’s okay.” Feyre felt a small laugh escape her, “I wouldn’t believe me fully either.”

“What?”

“I get it. Your anger.” Feyre quickly elaborated, “Well, maybe not fully but I understand where you’re coming from. You’re angry that I hurt you.”

Nesta stared at her.

Feyre picked up a stirring Nyx, gently patting his back as he woke up, his wings stretching.

A small knock sounded on the cabin door.

“You should go. It sounds like Eris is waiting.” Feyre turned back to the food she had been preparing on the stove.

“Is…is that all you have to say?” Nesta whispered, staring at her sister in shock.

“I am sorry.” Feyre apologized.

“...that’s all?”

Feyre looked at her sister in silence, unsure of what to say. 

What do you want to hear from me?

Nesta opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Opened it once more, and when nothing came out, stormed out of the cabin as well.

Feyre put Nyx to bed when a knock sounded on her open door.

“Nesta?” Feyre was surprised to see her sister changed into a nightgown, standing in the doorframe awkwardly.

Nesta stood at the door, crossing her arms awkwardly.

“Nesta?”

She still didn’t say anything, only shifting from one foot to the other.

“You can have the bathroom first.”

Not like I am going to use it anyways with Rhysand tugging on the bond every five minutes.

“I am not here about the bathroom.”

“Then why are you here?”

“You have the same look that Mom did on bad days.”

“What do you mean?”

Nesta sighed, stepping into the bedroom. Her footsteps were light and quiet as she stopped before her younger sister.

“What has he done to you?” Nest cupped her sister’s face, “What has he done to break you this badly. You never wallowed. Never caved. You were never weak. You always had something to say to me. Always had a retort, an insult, a jab on the ready.”

Feyre felt Rhysadn try to tug at the bond angrily but something about Nesta’s touch made him feel much farther away. Like he was just a whisper in the cold night wind.

She put her hands over Nesta’s hands.

“I am weak. I was always weak. I just hid it well.”

Nesta blinked away what Feyre almost thought might have been tears.

“You always had something to say.” Nesta insisted.

“You did too, that didn’t stop Cassian and your time in the house of wind from hurting you.”

Nesta paused, her eyes narrowing at the male’s name.

“I am sorry.” Feyre said, “I know you say to stop apologizing but I can’t because I wish I had stopped it. I know we were never on good terms, but…I would never have wanted you to get hurt like that.”

“I want you to stop apologizing because you do nothing else besides it.” Nesta’s finger gently traced Feyre’s cheeks, “I want you to look alive.”

Feyre smiled back, but that only made Nesta’s expression twist to one of hurt.

“I don’t know how to help you.” Nesta murmured, “I act softer, you apologize. I act rougher you retreat into yourself and still apologize.”

The wind rustled the bloody red trees outside, as rain began falling.

“I am sorry for not being able to help you. It seems no matter what I do I can’t help you…or us.” Nesta said quietly, “This morning…I crossed a line.”

Feyre blinked.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I did.” Nesta ran a hand through her hair, exhaling shakily, “I know you were never the biggest fan of hunting yet you did it anyways. You always hunted for us, and I appreciate it. We wouldn’t have had food otherwise. I am sorry for using it against you.”

“You were angry.” Feyre said simply, “You needed a place to vent.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Nesta shook her head, “The whole point of this was to escape a place that did just that to all of us, and now we’re turning on each other.”

Feyre nodded in agreement.

“I can’t claim to be better than Cassian if I do the same thing he does but to my sister.”

“Well, in my opinion you are better than Cassian.” Feyre said bluntly.

Nesta shook her head, “Then you’ve got something wrong with your head.”

“Perhaps, but you’re my family. I take care of you. I can’t…hate you.”

“No, I think you can dislike your siblings.” Nesta laughed lightly, “Pretty sure it’s a rule or something.”

Feyre hummed, uncertain.

She wanted to hate her sister. She did some days, but when it came down to it she was too tired to feel much anger towards them at all. She just wanted some peace and quiet between them.

“Feyre…thank you for taking care of us.” Nesta whispered softly.

Feyre sniffled.

She hated this; being on the verge of tears all the time. Nesta gently helped her sit down, pulling her into a hug.

“I was a bad sister.”

“You weren’t that bad.”

“Eh, let’s not sugarcoat, I was an asshole.”

“So was I.”

“Sure, but one of us was older.”

“Thank you for trying to get me out of the courts when I was taken away.”

“I should have stabbed all the faeries. Would have solved all of our problems.”

Feyre felt a small laugh escape her, along with a couple tears.

It sounded like such a simple solution when reality was much harsher.

“Thank you for doing the housework.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The two sisters lay in bed together, Nyx snuggled up in a blanket between them. Feyre almost felt like she was back home. In that house with the painted walls and cabinets.

She didn’t want to go back to that time, but she had missed this. The closeness. The feeling of Nesta’s hand near her hers as the night grew darker and colder

For the first time in weeks Feyre closed her eyes and felt herself drift off to sleep.

This wasn’t perfect, but it was ours. 

Feyre vowed to not let someone take this feeling of peace and unity away from them. Not again.

Masterlist

Tag list: @rcarbo1, @planet-faerie, @fox-in-flowers, @bookishfeylin, @mythuzalasheir3

If you want to be added to a tag list let me know :D

[francesminos-tt]

joff is still in high school when he gets pregnant👀 daeron is almost finishing university but he's stupid enough to have sex with his nephew without protection

smut(?) angst and feels :) they don't have an established relationship and joff is scared... happy ending please 🥺❤️

I am thinking way more drama than I put down🤣

It all started in a normal autumn afternoon, just when the green leaves of summer started to turn red. The air was crisp, not too humid like the steaming summer, nor too dry like the freezing winter. Joffrey took a deep inhale and closed his eyes as a gentle breeze caressed his cheeks. He loved to go outside, bathing in the sun and being surrounded by nature always making him smile. Today was no exception. Joffrey insisted on going outside for a walk despite Rhaenyra’s worried face. He was struck down by a nasty fever, and had to spend the past week in bed. He had to go out, or he would lose his mind. So, Joffrey put on his warmest jacket and stepped out of the house for the first time in a week, ignoring the lingering cramp in his stomach.

This fever was strange. Joffrey didn't have a running nose or sore throat. The symptoms didn't feel like a normal cold. He had severe stomach cramps and a constant blunt pain in his lower back. He couldn't eat or even sit up, for the nausea and vertigo would make him vomit his guts out. The first three days were hell, but from the fourth day, Joffrey began to feel better. On day six, he finally managed to keep down a full meal.

Joffrey promised his mother that he would just take a light walk around the park he had frequented since childhood. It was a short walk from his house to the park, the fresh scent of leaves and the gentle autumn breeze lifted his mood significantly. By the time Joffrey reached the park, he felt a lot like his normal self again.

There weren’t many people in the park on a Wednesday afternoon, but Joffrey noticed the group of teenagers playing football on the small field.

“Hey, Ben!” Joffrey shouted, waving his hands at a teenager boy with a shaved head.

The boy didn't stop to greet Joffrey. Instead, he kept carrying the ball forward, passing it back and forth with his teammates, until he scored a beautiful goal from the outer angle. The boy said something to his playmates before running towards Joffrey, who was leaning against a light post.

“Nice goal.” Joffrey smiled and bumped fists with the boy, “You are getting good at forward position, Ben. Not as good as me, though.”

“Fuck off, Joffrey.” Benjicot Blackwood rolled his eyes at his friend, “I haven't seen you for a while. Everything all right?”

“Sick.” Joffrey replied, “I had to stay in bed for a week.”

Benjicot made a face. If anyone could understand Joffrey’s frustration of being confined to his bed, it would be Ben.

“Yeah,” Joffrey shrugged, “I am about to rot if I don't get out of bed today.”

Despite being a year younger, Ben was Joffrey’s best friend. They went to the same school, joined the same football team, and come to each other’s birthday party, etc. They were considered inseparable, even after they presented as different genders. Ben was an alpha and Joffrey an omega, but it didn't hinder their friendship at all. Ben was the first person whom Joffrey told about his omega status, and Ben didn't treat him any different after hearing the news. He never treated Joffrey like some fragile doll, which Joffrey was very grateful for.

“You still look pale.” Benjicot observed, “Maybe you should take it easy sometimes, Joff. You are pushing yourself too hard.”

“Please, not you too.” Joffrey waved his hand exaggeratedly, “I am fine! Ready to kick your ass actually. Do you want to try?”

“No, thanks.” Benjicot rolled his eyes and bumped Joffrey’s shoulder with his own, “I am not competing with a sick person.”

Benjicot’s gesture was playfully at most, but somehow, Joffrey felt himself lose balance by Ben’s push, his knees buckled, and before he realized what had happened, he was already lying on the ground with his arms across his stomach.

“Fuck!” Ben’s panicked voice came from above, “Are you okay, Joff? Are you hurt anywhere? God, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to push you.”

Joffrey knew his friend would never mean to hurt him, and to be fair, Benjicot hardly even used any force, but Joffrey was still sent to the ground like a sack of potatoes. How come he had become so weak?

“Here, hold on to me.” Ben wrapped his arm around Joffrey’s torso and tried to lift the brunette up, “You didn't bump your head or anything, do you?”

“No,” Joffrey managed, “I am fine, I think.”

Although Joffrey was sure he didn't bump his head, he still felt like hell. His world seemed to be have turned upside down, as if he was riding a rollercoaster, a very thrilling one at that. His vision was blurred and he felt like vomiting. He could smell Ben’s alpha scent, fresh watery plants, mixed with sweat and the unique earthiness of the football field. It was a familiar scent. In fact, Joffrey liked Ben’s alpha scent, but now, the freshness only made him sicker.

“Are you sure? You are pale as sheet, Joffrey. Let me take you back, okay?”

Joffrey opened his mouth to say yes, but all that came out was stomach acid and bitter bile. Joffrey barely had time to push Benjicot away before bending down to vomit. He gagged and coughed so hard that by the time his stomach finally settled, Joffrey was crawling on the ground, shaking, dark curls soaked with cold sweat.

Unsurprisingly, Joffrey was rushed to the hospital. It seemed that he almost gave Benjicot a heart attack. When Joffrey regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the hospital bed, the white ceiling so bright that it hurt his eyes.

“Joff? Thank the Seven you are awake.” Rhaenyra was by his side in an instant, “How are you feeling? Is anything hurting, my dear?”

Now, Joffrey was not a weakling, nor was he a spoiled boy. Though he was still in high school, Joffrey always considered himself a grownup. Grownups didn't run to their mother wherever they were in pain, right? That was why Joffrey had stopped complaining about pain or discomfort since his 15th birthday. However, his resolve was failing right now.

“Everything hurts.” Joffrey hissed, a rare show of weakness.

“I am so sorry, baby.” Rhaenyra brushed some wet curls from Joffrey’s face before kissing the boy on the forehead, “Let me call the doctor. They should be able to give you something for the pain.”

Rhaenyra released her soothing pheromones in an attempt to comfort her son. Her effort did work, but only to a small extent. Normally, her pheromone was enough to release any pain or discomfort of her pups, but Joffrey’s situation was unique. The omega boy could only benefit from one particular pheromone right now, which certainly didn’t please Rhaenyra.

“No, please, mother,” Joffrey tried to grab his mother’s sleeve, “don’t go. I don't want to be alone.”

This was another rare behavior for Joffrey. Rhaenyra’s third son was known for his toughness, having been promoted to the captain of his football team in the boy league despite his omega status, but even Joffrey could not hold maintain his toughness anymore.

“Joff, dear, I need to ask you something.” Rhaenyra sat back on the edge of the bed and gently smoothed Joffrey’s hair, “Can you promise to be honest with me?”

Joffrey was confused. Why wouldn't he be honest? He had never purposely deceived his mother, not with bad intention anyway. The biggest lie he had told probably was when he told his mother that an alien ate Jace’s birthday cake while in fact it was Joffrey who had eaten the whole thing. To be fair, he had only been five back then.

“Okay.” Joffrey nodded even so slightly in order not to cause anymore nausea.

“Do you know why you have been sick lately?” Rhaenyra asked, “The cramps, nausea, fatigue. Do you know what caused these symptoms?”

“The flu?” Joffrey tried, “Maybe a stomach bacteria or something.”

Rhaenyra stared at him for a moment, as if judging if Joffrey was telling the truth. She sighed after seeing the confusion in her son’s dark eyes.

“Unfortunately, it’s not the reason of your sickness, my dear.” Rhaenyra paused, “The doctors did some test on you and they found out that…”

“Found out what?” Joffrey urged as panic began to rise, “Am I dying? Is that some sort of fatal disease?”

“No, it is not.” Rhaenyra swallowed before continuing, “The doctors find out that you are pregnant, Joffrey.”

Did he hear wrong? He was what? Pregnant? As in, with child? Was there a child growing inside him?

“You know I don't forbid you or your brothers to develop a romantic relationship, right?” Rhaenyra said with a small smile, “I am not a hypocrite like that. But Joff, you are still in high school. You are too young to take this responsibility. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

The initial shock had mostly disappeared by now, replaced by an enormous amount of shame. Joffrey knew what his mother was actually asking. She wanted to know who the baby father was, but how could Joffrey tell her? How could Joffrey tell his mother that he had been messing around with his youngest uncle?

The room was warm despite the snowstorm raging outside. The heater was working at its max capacity, making the room so warm that a thick layer of fog had formed on the window. Joffrey sat at the window, drawing meaningless patterns with his index finger. He wasn’t really paying attention, but somehow, the patterns he drew were all hearts, in various sizes and shapes.

Joffrey blushed after realizing what he had just done. He began to wipe the patterns off but a large hand stopped him.

“What are you doing?” A deep but soft voice whispered in Joffrey’s ear, as a strong arm wrapped around the boy’s torso, a warm scent of incense and spice enveloping him.

“Nothing.” Joffrey said, trying to sound calm, but his pink ear tip betrayed him.

The alpha chuckled. He began to scribble down something on the window, long, elegant finger danced on the cold glass, adding something to Joffrey’s mindless drawings.

Two names, on each side of the heart. Daeron and Joffrey, connected by a poorly drawn heart pattern. Daeron loved Joffrey.

“There. It looks a lot better, doesn’t it?” Daeron said, resting his chin on Joffrey’s shoulder.

If Joffrey had been blushing earlier, he was now burning. He was so embarrassed, but so happy at the cheesy act that he couldn't help but giggle.

“Come, tea is ready.” Daeron planted a small kiss on Joffrey’s neck, “I’ve made your favorite hot chocolate.”

“Are you courting me?” Joffrey asked, letting himself be led to the small coffee table in front of the couch, where there were all kinds of his favorite snacks.

Daeron didn't answer. He never answered when Joffrey brought up questions like that. They had done all the things that boyfriends would do to each other, kissing, cuddling, sex, and even went on dates, but Daeron never put a name to their relationship. No matter how tender and loving Daeron was to Joffrey in private, when they met at family events, he was only Uncle Daeron, nothing more and nothing less.

As a teenager boy, despite acting like he didn't care about relationships, all Joffrey wanted was to brag about his ‘boyfriend’. Daeron was a senior in King’s Landing College, studying law and international politics. He was the very image of a posh alpha, tall, strong, polite and very handsome. Above all, he was so good to Joffrey, both in and out of bed.

“Have you done your homework?” Daeron asked as he let Joffrey sit between his legs, enveloping the boy with all his limbs.

“You sound like my father.” Joffrey complained, throwing a handful of chocolate-covered almonds into his mouth.

“I remember someone specifically told me to remind him of his homework, because he would get into great trouble if he didn't finish them.” Daeron said with a chuckle, tickling Joffrey on the boy’s sensitive waist, drawing a string of giggle from the little omega.

Joffrey tried to get out of Daeron’s lap, but the alpha wouldn't let him. Instead, Daeron slipped his cold hand into the hem of Joffrey’s sweatshirt, flattening his palm on the boy’s soft belly and squeezing teasingly.

“Okay, okay! I surrender! Stop doing that!” Joffrey giggled, out of breath, his already rosy cheek now red like ripe tomatoes.

Daeron swept Joffrey into his arms and pressed their body together, his alpha scent mixing with Joffrey’s sweet omega one, their breaths soon mingled together as well. Daeron kissed Joffrey on the lips, his tongue entering the boy’s mouth without hesitation, sweeping through Joffrey’s gums and teeth, drinking the boy’s surprised moan all down. The heated kiss soon turned into heated making out, and finally Joffrey found himself lying on the soft carpet, shirtless, with Daeron on top of him. Daeron was nibbling on his breast while playing with his already wet pussy, tugging Joffrey’s fat lips and pressing hard on the omega’s clit.

Joffrey’s hip bucked uncontrollably, his legs shaking as sweet moans escaped his lips. Daeron was the one who taught Joffrey the pleasure of the flesh, so he knew Joffrey’s body like the back of his hand, knowing where to lick, to press, to pinch, to kiss, that could send Joffrey over the edge.

“Please,” Joffrey said with teary eyes, rubbing his crotch against Daeron’s clothed bulge, “I need you, uncle.”

Daeron’s eyes darkened, his alpha scent taking a possessive turn. A drop of his sweat dripped from his silver curls to Joffrey’s lips, which the omega eagerly licked off. That was Daeron’s last straw. He always felt guilty to mess around with his teenager nephew, but he couldn't help himself. Joffrey was like a poisoned flower, so sweet yet so addicting that made Daeron fall into the boy’s charm easily. Daeron was so possessed by lust that he forgot to put on protection. They fucked on the soft carpet, snacks completely forgotten on the small table. That was the first time Daeron came inside Joffrey, filling the boy to the brim that Joffrey’s entrance couldn't close for an hour.

They continued their relationship, fucking without protection too many times to count. Daeron insisted on not putting a name to the things they shared, because naming would make it real.

Do you not want to make it real? Joffrey always wanted to ask, but he never did.

Joffrey told his mother the truth, of course, but he purposely omitted some details. For example, he only said that he had been fucking Uncle Daeron, but didn't elaborate on how long he had been doing so. He promised that he was not coerced, but Rhaenyra didn't seem to buy it.

“I need you to inform Alicent.” Rhaenyra said, “I need to have a chat with my half-brother. Even if he didn't force you into anything, he should know better than doing it without protection.”

She had a point, but Joffrey was scared to let Daeron know the news. He had never pictured himself having kids, and definitely not in this young age. By some miracle, despite malnutrition, the embryo survived, holding onto Joffrey’s womb with such force that it was definitely Joffrey’s blood.

“Mother, I-” Joffrey said, but he didn't know how to continue, “I am so sorry.”

“You are a fool, Joffrey.” Rhaenyra sighed, “But you don't need to apologize. I just hope you could have respected your body more.”

“I wasn’t just messing around.” Joffrey replied, suddenly feeling defensive, “I won’t sleep with anyone, mother. I am better than that.”

“But you slept with your uncle. Is Daeron special to you, my dear?” Rhaenyra asked gently, “Is he treating well? Is he a good alpha for you?”

“I don’t know.” Joffrey lowered his eyes, “He said he liked me, but he seemed reluctant to make us official. I like him, mother. He’s kind and gentle to me, but…”

Joffrey couldn’t continue as the lump in his throat was so hard to swallow. His vision was blurred with tears, but he stubbornly refused to let the tears down. To be honest, he was scared. He didn’t know how to deal with this. What if Daeron didn’t want the child? Did Joffrey have to drop out of school? How could he raise a child on his own? Too many uncertainties messed up Joffrey’s already fragile mind even more, sending him into a panic attack.

“Shhh, it’s okay, my boy.” Rhaenyra cradled Joffrey’s head in her arms, “It’s okay. Breathe slowly. That’s it. You are doing great, Joffrey.”

“Do I have to give up school and football, mother?” Joffrey asked in a whisper after his breath returned to normal, “I can’t play while pregnant, can I?”

“No, it is better you don’t, but it doesn’t mean you have to give up on anything.” Rhaenyra assured, “I will support you no matter what. If you decide to keep the child, you can take some time off and finish school afterwards. It isn’t unheard of, okay? If you don’t want the child, well, there is always the option of abortion.”

Abortion. Joffrey hadn’t really given any thought on that. He was still young. He still had so much to learn and experience, and a child would definitely disrupt his plan. Taking the child out seemed to be a solution of all his problems, but Joffrey hesitated to make the decision. He had a feeling that if he lost this child, his ties to Daeron would all be severed as well.

“I need some time to think.” Joffrey said eventually.

“Of course. Now, have some rest. You must be exhausted.”

Joffrey lay down again and closed his eyes, a drop of tears finally sliding down his cheek.

Joffrey was released from the hospital three days later. He wasn’t hurt anywhere to begin with, so after some IV and pheromone stabilizers, he was back to his normal self again.

Well, almost.

Joffrey had learned to coexist with constant nausea and cramps now. He had trouble keep anything down in the morning, and he was tired all the time. Joffrey searched his symptoms online and found out that pregnant omegas lacking their alphas’ pheromones would often suffer from such discomforts.

His alpha. Was Daeron his alpha? Joffrey had no idea. Daeron never called, and Joffrey wasn’t sure if his mother had told him the news or not.

Joffrey’s finger lingered on his phone screen, tracing Daeron’s name in his contact but didn’t dare to press call. He didn’t want to become Daeron’s burden. Joffrey curled himself into a ball, covered in a warm blanket, trying to wait the cramps away. He missed his uncle’s hugs. He missed being wrapped in Daeron’s strong arms, missed the alpha’s soothing scent, missed his uncle’s tender kisses on his skin. He didn’t want to act like clingy boy, but now he had never craved Daeron’s company more than he did now.

“Daeron.” Joffrey whispered as he dozed off. His sleep was disturbed by constant cramps, and he was jolted awake by the vibration of phone.

“…Hello?” Joffrey picked up without looking at the caller’s name.

“Joff!” A deep yet gentle voice came from the phone, “Open the door, please.”

Door? Joffrey looked up, only to the door bell was ringing all this time. There seemed to be no one in the house. His mother probably left for some errands. Joffrey dragged himself up, still wrapped in the thick blanket and walked to the front door. He wasn’t thinking straight, his head clouded by fatigue and drowsiness, so he didn’t recognize the voice in the phone.

“Joffrey! Thank God you are okay.”

A tall figure practically leaped at him, sweeping Joffrey into a crushing hug. The omega recognized the scent immediately, incense with a hint of spice, warmer than the blanket he kept around his shoulder. The cramps in his lower belly soothed almost immediately as the scent enveloped him.

“Uncle?” Joffrey blinked, “Daeron?”

“Yes.” Daeron cupped Joffrey’s face into his hands and observed the boy, “You look so pale, Joff. Are you sure you are all right?”

“Why are you here?” Joffrey asked, too shocked to think of anything else, “You never visit our house.”

“I got the call from my mother as soon as my flight landed.” Daeron replied, shutting the door with his feet before carrying Joffrey in his arms, “I am sorry I have been out of reach. The phone signal was bad in the mountains.”

Why were you in the mountains? Joffrey wanted to ask, but it wasn’t the time. He buried his face in Daeron’s neck and inhaled the scent he had missed so much.

“I’ve heard the news, Joff.” Daeron said after placing Joffrey down on the couch, “Why didn’t you contact me? I am so scared that you don’t anything to do with me or my child.”

“You didn’t call either.” The words sounded more accusing than Joffrey intended, but he couldn’t care less, “You don’t have to apologize for disappearing without telling me. We are not boyfriends.”

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” Daeron’s lips curled up into a self-mocking smile, “I am so sorry. I am a coward for refusing to admit what we have. I am scared, Joffrey. I have never developed feelings as strong as I have for you. I want to claim you and make you mine, even though you are still a teenager. I want to keep you for myself. It scares me, Joffrey.”

“I thought you didn’t want us to be real.” Joffrey placed his hand on his lower belly, “I thought you would blame me for getting pregnant.”

“I would never!” Daeron rushed to say, “We are both guilty at this, me even more than you. How can I blame you for giving me a pup? Do you know how many times I have dreamed of this moment?”

“Then ask me properly.” Joffrey said, his voice quivering a bit.

“Joffrey Velaryon, can you give me the honor to court you?” Daeron asked, “I can get down on one knee if you want.”

Joffrey had been waiting for this question for so long. If he had known that it would take a child for Daeron to admit his feelings, Joffrey might have done it sooner.

Neither of them knew the chaos and drama Daeron had to go through in order to make Joffrey his, but that was the story for another time.

[the-lark-ascending69]

Some werewolf Max + lumax headcanons:

At first she has zero control over her shifting and her behavior while shifted. I like to imagine werewolves have more control over their wolf form the better their mental health is, so for now Max can only shift during the full moon, and she has very little control over her actions. She can remember most of it, though.

As she becomes part of the Party, and as she becomes closer to Lucas, she gets a lot more control, to the point she can shift at will most times.

She was turned by Billy, who in turn was turned by his father. The only non-werewolf family member there is her mom. They're considered a pack in werewolf terms, and they have a weird status system in which Neil is on top, Billy is always fighting to be the one trying to "take over" and Max is the small, weak underdog over whom Billy tries to excercise the little power he has. Max is at the bottom of the food chain there. She was, or course, turned against her will. She hates being a werewolf and hates herself for it. She feels it makes her deeply and intrinsically like them, like she can never escape them no matter how much she tries; not what they did to her, and not her fate to one day be just like them.

Her greatest fear is biting Lucas.

Neil is the only one who gets to roam free during full moons. He always chains Billy up despite Billy's constant fighting. Max locks herself in her bedroom. Conveniently for Neil, she is very quiet during full moons, mostly hiding under her bed all night. She's learned to behave - the only thing worse than full nights for her is the possibility of being locked up with Billy.

Lucas is the first person to ever tell Max she could find her own way to be a wolf, that she didn't have to be like them.

Max pretty much secretly swears loyalty to Lucas right there and then. She doesn't notice at first, but this is the moment her bond with her old pack breaks, and she begins to form a new pack with her human friends, Lucas being the first member.

Max's wolf fur used to be very thin and coarse. She used to shed a lot due to stress. During these past few years, though, she's grown a beautifully soft reddish brown coat. Lucas and El love to brush it whenever she's in wolf form.

All of Lucas' sweaters have little brown hairs on them. His mom has no idea where they come from, since they don't have a dog and, as far as she knows, neither do any of his friends. He smiles awkwardly and tells her he just discovered he's a dog person and pets every dog he sees. His mom thinks he's just hiding a puppy somewhere in his room. Erica calls bullshit on him, but tells him she'll keep his secret if he shares the puppy with her.

He actually kind of does - Erica instantly loves Max when she meets her. She tries to act unimpressed and aloof, but she's the only one small enough to ride the giant wolf so she does get the coolest experience of her life there. Turns out having a werewolf for sister-in-law is pretty fire.

Max and Erica become friends and they spend most of their time roasting Lucas and sharing embarrassing stories about him. That has nothing to do with werewolf stuff I just needed to mention it.

Max is fiercely protective of Lucas, even in human form, and will always fight anyone who tries to bully him. She's especially aggressive when it comes to Billy. They HAVE fought in wolf form, and it was terrifying because Billy was so much bigger and stronger than Max, and it seemed like he was about to kill her - she was probably saved by Lucas shooting a rock at his eye with his wrist rocket, giving Max enough time to dig her fangs into his neck. Against all odds, she wins, and in that way somewhat climbs higher up the ladder - she's above Billy now, and he needs to stay the fuck away from her and her new pack.

Lucas is very protective of Max in return - he always accompanies her during full moons and makes sure to find safe spots where no one will bother them.

He HAS played fetch with her. Once. And because it was his birthday.

El is often also there. She thinks Max looks so pretty as a wolf, and has commissioned Will to draw her a lot of times. She just really loves the feel of her fur in her fingers.

Max can be pretty rough with the other boys while in wolf form, especially Mike. She's big enough that one swipe of her tail can knock him down. Bullying Mike is one of her favorite passtimes. She's super soft and careful with Lucas and El, though.

She loves snow!!

She has little fangs when in human form. When Lucas found out he fell in love all over again.

Her clothes, too, are covered in little hairs from all her shifting.

She begins to lose control of her wolf form after Billy dies. By the time she's vecna'd, she's worse than she's even been - another reason to stay away from Lucas. She doesn't want to hurt him.

[duckmine]

Any Tina and Jimmy Jr headcanons you could share? Or just headcanons for the Belchers in general?

yes GOD yes, of course lemme just get my notes here 📝 👓,

no but seriously i may have to copy paste some because of the amount of thought i put into them but i’ll try to do so sparingly so you don’t have read an entire novel-

[1/24/21]

tina and jimmy jr.-

- jimmy jr. obviously confesses first, because i mean, it's not like tina was ever secret about her feelings for him. and jimmy jr. is like really nervous about it, and gets really flustered around her and it's fucking adorable.

- tina is usually the more flirty one, because again she's kinda always been somewhat affectionate towards j-ju anyway so when they start dating she starts unlocking all her romantic gestures and it makes jimmy jr. so red all the time. but that doesn't mean jimmy jr. doesn't flirt as well, so when he does, tina is always slightly taken aback and gets incredibly flustered as well because she doesn't usually expect boys or a boy to behave this way around her. i mean yeah she sometimes pushes boys into trying to act like they like tina in that way but because of the constant rejection towards the idea that she used to recieve, she just isn't used to it. but doesn't mean she doesn't thoroughly enjoy it ;).

- i like to think that when tina and jj start dating, they actually start becoming closer as friends as well. i mean they have feelings for eachother but when they date and they hang out more they start off actually enjoying just hanging out with eachother than trying to be romantic. and so they think "why haven't we done this more often?" and so they literally become best friends while being boyfriend and girlfriend and honestly i just think that would be funny.

- jimmy jr. and tina's favorite thing to do together is dance eachother's heart out and hype eachother about it in the process. because it's fun and makes them feel good.

- jimmy jr. falls in love with tina quicker than he realizes. he believes he still only like likes tina, but tina can tell he feels more than that. but she never says it to his face because she respects taking things slow for jimmy jr. because she knows how hard it was for jimmy to finally ask her out and confess about his feelings, she wouldn't wanna overwhelm him with the current feelings he has now that he doesn't even know are there.

- jimmy jr. is unbelievably sweet around tina, especially when they're alone. he's literally just so enamored by her. by her interests, her passions. her quirks. and it makes him want to make her happy all the time. tina notices this and likes it a lot, but she also tries to let him know he doesn't have to do all these nice things for her all the time. he's allowed to just be chill, because even though they're dating, they're also friends so y'know, they should be allowed to act like friends too.

- oh i also headcanon them both to be autistic fhsn.

as for more general belcher headcanons-

-i think Linda is a result of parentification. she often is seen nurturing and guiding her sister and parents and trying to make them feel safe and listened to rather than the other way around. her sister is obviously mentally struggling and her parents are immature, and it shows in how responsible Linda acts and feels when she’s around them. she treats all of them like children. more than her own kids, whom she actually trusts to take more care of themselves, because they were actually raised in a better household.

-i think Bob recognizes this and Linda struggles to whenever Bob mentions it.

-i think despite the kids academic struggles, Bob and Linda are extremely proud of them because they know that all of them are extremely bright and well-grounded despite still being immature kids and they know that while they weren’t the best in discipline- they did great at just being loving, caring parents and it shows in the way their kids behave around each other.

-i think gene (and this feels like a given but still) is like a genuine prodigy. i’d almost go as far to say the same for tina but i don’t want to push it. i feel like gene really doesn’t get enough credit for his musical talent, he’s very experimental but when under high stakes he can manage to write out an extended FAN musical with instrumentals and lyrics like it’s nobody’s fricken business. especially in Topsy. hell even bob was surprised by gene’s talent!

-less deep headcanon, gene has heterochromia as you can see from how i draw him lol. the primary reason was because i feel like gene is such a special but weird kid, and for being the middle child also the loudest and attention seeking, so him having heterochromia was like a token for how much he tries to stand out. but for more story related reasons, it was a cause of injury. gene and louise being the closest of the siblings added to their chaotic relationship it’s not unfounded they would catch themselves in quite. the accident. and so ever since then that’s why louise is a bit more protective of gene because it was very much her fault LOL.

-i think tina doesn’t show it often (mostly because there’s rarely a given time where she has to), but tina takes pride in being the oldest sibling and actually is also quite protective of gene and louise. but because gene is quick witted and louise is fiery she doesn’t really have to do much to help them because she trusts her siblings wholeheartedly. however, if ever the case both of them are in genuine danger that neither can actually fight on their own or together

tina is kicking ass, and she will be good at it. given the fact she’s also canonically freakishly strong.

but also, if you push tina’s buttons just right, she is a BEAST!

[gay-ratcore]

Hey, I just read what the last anon sent and that was so mean. I'm so sorry some horrible person sent that to you. Some people just talk out of the blue. But stay strong and I wish for all the trans royals out there to stay strong,you all have my support. I'm actually a bit left in the dark about whatever is going on because where I come from, this isn't really discussed. If you don't mind me asking, why are people hating on the trans community, they didn't do anything wrong 🤔 Stay strong darling ❤

Hi love, thanks so much for your kind message, it means a lot and I really appreciate it. 💗

People really are so cruel for literally no reason. Like, sorry I'm trying to protect children? 🙁

There are quite a few new anons in my inbox now calling me uneducated despite me being an actual clinician. On top of that, I barely said a word, all of the facta are literally just links from scientific studies and respected organizations. 😂

To answer your question, there really is no good reason to hate trans people. They are just trying to exist and be happy like everyone else.

I'm sure there are other people in our community who would be able to explain better why these people are the way they are. If anyone can add to this or correct me on anything, please feel free!

The main excuses I've heard fascists give are:

1. Trans people are pedophiles who are grooming children (this one has zero basis in fact and while I can't speak for everyone, I know of a lot pedophilic clergy and nazis, and zero pedophilic trans people).

2. Trans people are mentally ill, perverted rapists who are only trans in order to take advantage of women (This is the position that a lot of female transphobes take, which really only applies to trans women. They're so scared of men that they become scared of trans women. While I understand the trauma they have experienced, trying to genocide an entire group of people just because they remind you of men is as acceptable as murdering a guy just because he reminded you of your ex.

The only true part here is that the majority of trans people are mentally ill - not because they're trans, but because they're almost always abused and are under constant threat of murder just for being trans).

3. They say that it's "basic biology" and that "there are only males and females."This one is just based on a lack of education.

They are correct in that their view is basic biology - it's what we learn in grade school. We're taught a dumbed-down version of science as kids, but once we hit college, we find there is a lot more complexity to it than we thought. In this case, we would learn that gender and sex are two different things, with both being on a spectrum. I'm not the best at explaining it, so here's some better info!

Hateful people become scared of what they don't know. It's the same concept as racism and sexism. It's a "foreign" group of people whom you find scary because you don't understand them. So, their natural response is violence. It's horrifying and scary, and unfortunately these people are in charge of our lives. Please keep being open-minded, and keep asking questions. Education is the most important weapon in the fight against fascists.

[lifenconcepts]

Here’s some notes I quickly made on my flipphone and what I actually meant by them, enjoy!:

Moon - I ACTUALLY SAW THE SECONDARY MOON THAT IS CURRENTLY PASSING US! The temporary mini-moon. I used to look from my garden for the past few nights but I just went for a walk and looking into the sky in the horizon (usually heavily covered by houses) I saw a silly circle! Knew it was in the sky as lamps make lines when I squint at them, plus, it was soo strangely circular!? It was so cute but at first I thought our moon shrunk and changed places! I do rarely see it, so that would make sense, like hermitcraft’s ‘is the moon big?’ Except it’s small.

“Look up more” as I have a habit of staring at my feet when I walk, and despite enjoying the way my boots step forward - after all, I just walk automatically at times and it’s fascinating to see my own body move without my order, same as breathing. Haha you’re breathing manually now! But yeah, I zone out and fail to get all the mental benefits of the walk, so gotta look up even if there isn’t much happening around, still better than asphalt.

“The divine too watch, the stars, and scratch their ass” self explanatory. People whom are close to divine, translate the divine, are basically the divine, or apart of the divine, are just as close to the stars as the sky they exist in - and, too, like the stars, watch. Also scratch their ass, because even divine beings aren’t strangers to basic experience such as scratching their butt.

astrnomy - possibly look into constellations and the study of the stars, as I’m pulled towards them but really know nothing much apart from the name of three and where they usually appear. Also, FUCK Sirius. Okay fine I apologies, I have come to better terms with the star and forgive it.

High is life - is getting high just the closest normies can get to my level of spiritual connection? After all, people to talk similarly to how I normally do. Whole new meaning to “high on life” I suppose.

Like a dog I need walks or bad stuff haspens- Like how I studied online dog behaviour and how dogs become restless, depressed, sick, and hurt if they’re not taken for regular walks, so am I - pacing the home like trapped German shepherd, whine-y like a chihuahua, apathetic like a soggy rag, and aggressive like a misunderstood cat.

RAH - I can make scarily accurate monster noises that honestly even scare me. 

Smell outeooss more, richment - I keep forgetting to activate my 2nd sense of smell when on walks, which is honestly sad, because there are dozens of incredible smells outdoors and that gives me alot of mental enrichment! From the smell of autumn, cars, leaves, mud, tea, or curry from someone’s window - all of these things make walls just that bit more pleasant.

Sileot night - walks in the darkness/late afternoon/early night are so much more peaceful and calmer than the day that I don’t even need to constantly be wearing headphones! Take some time to enjoy the silence, and then get back to walking confidently so passers by know not to mess with me bahahaha (ALSO fun thing I noticed is that alot of people my age 15-20 especially guys do the same hands in pocket and look docile yet also silent ‘don’t mess with me’ vibes as me oh my goshhhh I am like the other gals xD).

You car may be unheard but my screams are - electric cars are dangerous.

At times the real is cool but music makes the cold shine - Reality in life is sometimes worth it even without blasting constant music through my headphones, but still, songs have the power of making my energy thrive and even the cold seem warm or make me forget about minute discomforts.

My organism is average so don’t experiment on it, not my soul goal - Despite being interested, don’t risk my health for trying to see the limitations of a human body, I’m pretty much average and need a good and constant supply of food, water, physics excertion, sleep, and emotion - not to limit or overuse it. For some, it may be their soul’s goal and path to try it out, but it just isn’t mine, and that’s okay. I’ll leave it for others to try out.

Those who have not yet formed ca livesnt risk their - those who haven’t formed can’t risk their lives.. idk if I was referring to people before birth or before spiritual awakening or before maturity (15-18), I think it’s the last one and in the sense of not making rash decisions early on in life. As even I felt that I was all knowing when infact I didn’t know much, still am forming, we constantly are, but about 25ish I’d say it’s the peak.

Show tunbler my notes here and what they mean - send this fun note translation to tumblr in hopes of getting a laugh or compliment from someone.

[alexianne]

To the women out there, have you ever experienced getting felt up in public transportation, thinking that it was just that—getting assaulted? Only to later on be told that you may actually have been a target of a not-so-thankfully unsuccessful theft. And so you initially try to weigh what could have been worse between getting robbed or getting assaulted, but you just in the end resign to the feeling of relief that you’re still alive, and your valuables are all still with you. Plus, of course you were left with your hands shaking, so you just preoccupy yourself with calming yourself—most especially your racing heart—down.

This happened slightly past 5 in the afternoon of Thursday (2 days ago as of time of publication.) I decided to go home already from school. Rush hour hasn’t started yet, but there was already a long line going up into the train station. I was kind of in a hurry to go home, so I decided to just take the jeepney. When I got in, there was a man who got in at the same time. I decided to sit right behind the shotgun seat. The man who got in with me sat on my left. Everything seemed normal to me.

Around two kilometers into the trip, I suddenly felt a hand softly caressing my left arm, just slightly above my elbow. I started feeling nervous. Nervous, but still cool. I decided to move closer to the shotgun seat. Turned out it was a very bad move. The man also move closer to me, efficiently trapping me between the seat and himself.

The man continued on with his act of lasciviousness. I adjusted in my seat, thinking that the man would stop if I wasn’t leaning back and squeezing myself into the corner. Turned out my plan didn’t work. In fact, I might have made things better and easier for him, and worse for me. He still caressed my arm, but it was now up near my armpit. The proximity of his hands on my chest almost, almost, froze me.

I wasn’t able to take it anymore. I wanted to confront the man, and I did exactly just that. I turned to him and started to say, ‘excuse me’. But I got cut off as he hastily pulled away his hand. I know that everything that happened up to this point was already enough to warrant some action. But to be honest, I didn’t know what to exactly say to or do with him. I absolutely have no confrontational bone in me. I just felt like screaming or probably alighting the jeep. Good thing that some people—a couple of people across us and the man, whom I will affectionately call 'Protective Grandpa’, seating on the other side of the bad guy—already picked up and realized that something was up.

That 'sort of’ confrontation gave me a moment of peace. Yep, only for a moment. Why? Because he still continued with his act. And it really got worst now. He now started caressing my side near my bust (I still got to be thankful at that moment that it was just the side of my breast and not my breast itself because I wouldn’t know what I could have done if that happened). But despite that, I already started panicking. Thoughts were running in my mind; I have come up and was considering various ways on how to escape the situation. I was also deciding if I should grab everyone’s attention. I started being restless in my seat. But despite my constant moving, the devil man was really trailing his hands on me. Good thing quite a lot of people went down at this point (I didn’t get to see where exactly we were at that point.) I decided to transfer seats. The devil, seeing that he can’t do anything anymore, decided to go down also.

To be perfectly honest, I thought I was so cool during the entire ordeal, having my mind work instead of actually freezing in fear. But I realized only when I change places, that I was terrified. My hands were shaking. I didn’t know at which point they started to do so. Then I started to feel a lump forming in my throat. I was tempted to cry right then and there. But my embarrassment of causing a scene in public won over, so I pushed down so hard the urge to cry. Good thing Protective Grandpa distracted me from my choking thoughts by talking to me.

“Hija, check mo bag mo kung may nawala. Mandurukot yung katabi mo.” (Trans: Miss, check your bag if something went missing. The man who sat beside you was a robber.)

Holy crapola! I have never thought of that. I got so preoccupied with not being abused that I’ve never thought that he might be a snatcher. I hastily opened my bag and checked if mommy’s tablet was still there (it was the only thing in my bag I’d be worried about getting stolen.) And it was. Whew! At least I was saved from an earful from Mommy. I then turned to Protective Grandpa.

“Wala naman pong nawala,” (Trans: Nothing went missing.) I said with a smile.

“Ah, buti naman. Kasi napansin ko na iniipit ka niya eh. Tapos masyado niyang yakap bag niya… tinatakpan niya kasi yung kamay niya.” (Trans: That’s good. I noticed he was pushing you to the corner. And he’s holding his bag too closely to him… he’s trying to hide his hand behind it.)

“Hinahawakan niya po braso and yung sa tagiliran ko po.” (Trans: He was feeling up my arms and my side.)

That got looks from people sitting around us.

“Ay bastos… Buti na lang smarte ka,” (Trans: Ah, he’s indecent… Good thing you’re quick-witted,) Protective Grandpa sympathetically smiled at me.

Yes, I’m really proud of myself for handling the situation as I did, and I’m glad Protective Grandpa thought the same. No public scene caused (although of course, when push comes to shove, I’m willing to let go of my shyness and really call for help). Plus, I encountered Protective Grandpa that just reminded me how much I miss my [maternal] grandpa and made me think how lucky are those people who still have their grandparents around.

This experience sure made me scared of riding a jeep for some time though. But it’s an experience that we all can learn something from. That is, if you know that something’s being done to you that you’re uncomfortable with, don’t be passive. NEVER BE PASSIVE. Fight or Flight. Just, never be still and accept the blows. Because if you do, it’s like letting the bad guys roam around free and push people around. And anyway, in my personal preference, it’s better to be described as strong, independent woman than to be described as damsel in distress.

[libraryofalexianne-jia]

To the women out there, have you ever experienced getting felt up in public transportation, thinking that it was just that—getting assaulted? Only to later on be told that you may actually have been a target of a not-so-thankfully unsuccessful theft. And so you initially try to weigh what could have been worse between getting robbed or getting assaulted, but you just in the end resign to the feeling of relief that you're still alive, and your valuables are all still with you. Plus, of course you were left with your hands shaking, so you just preoccupy yourself with calming yourself—especially your hands—down.

This happened slightly past 5 in the afternoon of Thursday (2 days ago as of time of publication.) I decided to go home already from school. Rush hour hasn't started yet, but there was already a long line going up into the train station. I was kind of in a hurry to go home, so I decided to just take the jeepney. When I got in, there was a man who got in at the same time. I decided to sit right behind the shotgun seat. The man who got in with me sat on my left. Everything seemed normal to me.

Around two kilometers into the trip, I suddenly felt a hand softly caressing my left arm, just slightly above my elbow. I started feeling nervous. Nervous, but still cool. I decided to move closer to the shotgun seat. Turned out it was a very bad move. The man also move closer to me, efficiently trapping me between the seat and himself.

The man continued on with his act of lasciviousness. I adjusted in my seat, thinking that the man would stop if I wasn't leaning back and squeezing myself into the corner. Turned out my plan didn't work. In fact, I might have made things better and easier for him, and worse for me. He still caressed my arm, but it was now up near my armpit. The proximity of his hands on my chest almost, almost, froze me.

I wasn't able to take it anymore. I wanted to confront the man, and I did exactly just that. I turned to him and started to say, 'excuse me'. But I got cut off as he hastily pulled away his hand. I know that everything that happened up to this point was already enough to warrant some action. But to be honest, I didn't know what to exactly say to or do with him. I absolutely have no confrontational bone in me. I just felt like screaming or probably alighting the jeep. Good thing that some people—a couple of people across us and the man, whom I will affectionately call 'Protective Grandpa', seating on the other side of the bad guy—already picked up and realized that something was up.

That 'sort of' confrontation gave me a moment of peace. Yep, only for a moment. Why? Because he still continued with his act. And it really got worst now. He now started caressing my side near my bust (I still got to be thankful at that moment that it was just the side of my breast and not my breast itself because I wouldn't know what I could have done if that happened). But despite that, I already started panicking. Thoughts were running in my mind; I have come up and was considering various ways on how to escape the situation. I was also deciding if I should grab everyone's attention. I started being restless in my seat. But despite my constant moving, the devil man was really trailing his hands on me. Good thing quite a lot of people went down at this point (I didn't get to see where exactly we were at that point.) I decided to transfer seats. The devil, seeing that he can't do anything anymore, decided to go down also.

To be perfectly honest, I thought I was so cool during the entire ordeal, having my mind work instead of actually freezing in fear. But I realized only when I change places, that I was terrified. My hands were shaking. I didn't know at which point they started to do so. Then I started to feel a lump forming in my throat. I was tempted to cry right then and there. But my embarrassment of causing a scene in public won over, so I pushed down so hard the urge to cry. Good thing Protective Grandpa distracted me from my choking thoughts by talking to me.

"Hija, check mo bag mo kung may nawala. Mandurukot yung katabi mo." (Trans: Miss, check your bag if something went missing. The man who sat beside you was a robber.)

Holy crapola! I have never thought of that. I got so preoccupied with not being abused that I've never thought that he might be a snatcher. I hastily opened my bag and checked if mommy's tablet was still there (it was the only thing in my bag I'd be worried about getting stolen.) And it was. Whew! At least I was saved from an earful from Mommy. I then turned to Protective Grandpa.

"Wala naman pong nawala," (Trans: Nothing went missing.) I said with a smile.

"Ah, buti naman. Kasi napansin ko na iniipit ka niya eh. Tapos masyado niyang yakap bag niya... tinatakpan niya kasi yung kamay niya." (Trans: That's good. I noticed he was pushing you to the corner. And he's holding his bag too closely to him... he's trying to hide his hand behind it.)

"Hinahawakan niya po braso and yung sa tagiliran ko po." (Trans: He was feeling up my arms and my side.)

That got looks from people sitting around us.

"Ay bastos... Buti na lang smarte ka," (Trans: Ah, he's indecent... Good thing you're quick-witted,) Protective Grandpa sympathetically smiled at me.

Yes, I'm really proud of myself for handling the situation as I did, and I'm glad Protective Grandpa thought the same. No public scene caused (although of course, when push comes to shove, I'm willing to let go of my shyness and really call for help). Plus, I encountered Protective Grandpa that just reminded me how much I miss my [maternal] grandpa and made me think how lucky are those people who still have their grandparents around.

This experience sure made me scared of riding a jeep for some time though. But it's an experience that we all can learn something from. That is, if you know that something's being done to you that you're uncomfortable with, don't be passive. NEVER BE PASSIVE. Fight or Flight. Just, never be still and accept the blows. Because if you do, it's like letting the bad guys roam around free and push people around. And anyway, in my personal preference, it's better to be described as strong, independent woman than to be described as damsel in distress.

[belphiesreverie]

Build a Yandere results!

It’s finally done!! I apologise for the delay with posting this, but hopefully it was worth the wait! Thank you again to everyone who contributed to the event and I hope you enjoy the final result! 💕

As I mentioned in the original post, you can send in hc/scenario requests, ask the yandere direct questions, ask for drawings etc now that they are done! I really hope you enjoy interacting with them!

Yandere and info under the cut!

Introducing Nero!

General info!

Nero is 21 years old and his birthday is the 12th July

He stands at about 6’0 but often wears platforms which make him closer to 6’3

His dad is an executive in a mafia family and owns a large business to act as a coverup. Nero will be taking over for him eventually so he’s majoring in business

However, he’s also minoring in English Literature as he adores reading and writing poems and he wanted to become a writer himself at some point

Despite his intimidating demeanour, Nero is actually a massive hopeless romantic and you can’t really tell how… passionate he is if you ever get the chance to read one of his poems

Nero is often seen carrying around cigarettes, although he doesn’t actually smoke. There was a misunderstanding once where someone assumed he wanted a cigarette when he came over to them, and since then people have assumed that’s what he wants whenever he approaches someone

He has a younger sister whom he absolutely adores and would do anything to keep her happy. She loves painting his nails and playing with his hair so he keeps them both long for her

He’s also in charge of looking after her a lot so he’s getting close to househusband material. He’s amazing at cleaning and getting it done super fast, but cannot cook for the life of him. He’s trying his hardest to get better at it though

Nero has partial heterochromia in his left eye!

He has tattoo’s from his father’s mafia family on his back and right arm. He covers the one on his arm with bandages so he doesn’t look as unapproachable or scary, but the bandages make it looks like he gets in lots of fights so it’s slightly counter intuitive

He’s an ambivert. There are times where he has to be social and interact with lots of people, and he doesn’t mind too much. But he also loves to spend a lot of time cooped up in his house doing nothing

Not a hc, but a fun fact abt his design! The lip piercing he has is called an angel bite and he has pointy jewellery to mimic vampire teeth! This is bc the human votes won, but it was a super close call between him being an angel or a vampire if he was non human. Just a cute lil easter egg 💕

Yandere type!

Nero is obsessive first and foremost. When he falls for someone, he falls hard and all his thoughts and actions revolve around them

His poems go from being about the feeling of wanting to experience love and a relationship, to cryptic but heavily detailed confessions to the object of his desires

He’s also quite protective of them as well. He knows that because of his father’s line of work, he has a target on his back as well and that it is probably extended towards his darling, so he goes above and beyond in ‘protecting’ them. Even if they’re not aware that he’s made it his job to watch over them 24/7

His persistence comes about from the perceived lack of sincerity that his darling assumes he holds

No matter how many times he asks them out to a nice fancy restaurant, or a cute little picnic, or on a world famous cruise, or even just to go see a movie. He’s not very outwardly expressive so every invitation seems to hold a tinge of insincerity, no matter how genuine he’s trying to be

The constant rejections won’t stop him or deter him though. They usually go right over his head as he continues to follow his darling around for the rest of the day

Even if they don’t enjoy his presence, he’s still gonna be right there next to him as often as he can be. He likes being close to them and it helps keep the others away as well

If his darling willingly lets him hang around them though? Well he’s got this excited air around him the entire day, the positivity practically radiating off of him. Which is actually helpful, since just looking at his expression would make you think he’s regretting even asking

His darling’s friends are absolutely not invited to hang out though. Just having his darling acknowledge someone else is enough to set him over the edge, let alone if he hears them planning outings together or anything like that

He knows he doesn’t have the right to monopolise his darling’s time, but he just can’t help but want to keep them all to himself without any pests bothering them. What’s more romantic than being the only person in each other’s lives?

He views his darling way above him. Nero knows he’s by no stretch of the imagination a good person. Especially considering the ties to the mafia through his father. Compared to him, his darling is practically a saint that can do no wrong

———

Tags: @msshonaomi @chenyasfluffytail @theguyinthemathproblems @canniblewoerms @chaos-in-person @teu-anjo @thorndreamland @hotaru-no-yume @tink2kagome @dotster001 @raveartts @art-loving-demon @akira-time @loiszephyr @overlord-mil @kazeperiwinkle @24-7sleepy @bluecroissxnt @dinosolecito @echos-chamber @justsayhelloo666 @roxineedstosleep @aesonsgirl @myangelsred @dirtyspongesoften @moonblissss @sweetbasementkittens @hauntedpaperdoll @peach_bearies @ghostmybeloved @emptyheadedstalker @sadcl0wnhappym1me @shiningdoradiamond @miss-negativity @ickyimp @jmercedesd @derrendoesedits @yestrday @anaki-kuroshi @crying-pupper @hurricaneclaw @anima-yandere @starcrossed8 @peach-leech @delispantry @heavenlayt @lulu_theone @hayatxlife @kazusbby @nobaronni @katsumi0o @chiakiiyi @kupied @xycrow @3sryn_

[yoshiiiiiiikunnn]

To my Brothers! Who I really care for the most!

A/N: I dunno. I just tried to look for some prompts and worked with it T^T. I still don't know how to write properly.

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Warnings: Nothing too bad, I guess. Angst though.

Mammon sighed as he jumped into bed. He was finally happy that he paid off most of his debt with the witches, but then grimaced when he realized he’ll someday need to borrow some money again. Damn you Greed, but he had some Grimm left. He added the left Grimm to a piggy bank. He was trying to fill it in, maybe to buy a present for his brothers.

Sometimes, Mammon wonders why he’s still super caring for his brothers despite the constant insults his brother has been throwing at him. He was indeed very compassionate towards his brother despite the name-callings. He could never get angry at them, just a tiny bit disappointed… at himself.

Mammon has continuously put on this mask of narcissism (a little less than Asmodeus’) to make himself better because no one had actually complimented him for quite some time. A self-deprecating personality, though, when he’s alone. Beating himself up over the simplest of things, maybe shedding a tear or two from the disappointment he thinks he is, when truly he’s a kind fellow just carried by his sin of Greed.

Speaking of, he was glad that he could resist his greed for a week, very glad. At least his brothers didn't insult him again—

---------------------------------------------

“MAMMON!” A loud shout could be heard, and it snapped Mammon out of his train of thoughts. With a panicked gasp, he ran immediately to the source of the sound. There he saw his brothers, all with furrowed brows and angry gazes. “Uhh, is something the matter?” He spluttered anxiously; he swore he did nothing wrong. “What do you think is the matter, Mammon?” It was the oldest brother, Lucifer. But then an angered voice continued, “Levi said you stole one of his figurines again, Mammon!”

“HAH?! But I did nothing wrong this week, because of situations like these…” Mammon censured, muttering the last phrase in a whisper. “Well, where do you think it could’ve gone!?” the third born remarked in a shout. “I don’t know! Stop blaming me! I was working mostly this week; I was barely at home!” the white-haired demon answered back in a slightly frustrated shout.

“Stop lying, Mammon. We already know you’re lying, you pathological liar.” It was the blonde fifth-born, Satan. When heard that, he was taken aback, quite hurt. “B-but...!” Mammon tried to answer back but was cut off by Lucifer. “Stop this, Mammon. Because you’d been stealing others’ stuff again, I’ll have no choice to punish you again.”

“Wha...?! I really did nothing wrong!!” No one listened to him. Of course, what did Mammon expect from his brothers?

---------------------------------------------

Mammon felt disappointed with himself again. Did he actually steal Levi’s figurine unconsciously? He also felt hurt with the phrase Satan called him, you pathological liar. ‘Whew, that stings.’ He grimaced at the thought. A pathological liar. He probably deserved to be called that.

His back stings. Lucifer whipped him again as a punishment. He took the first-aid kit to treat some wounds. Mammon still doesn’t feel used to this, being punished again and again by his older brother and being ridiculed by his younger ones, whom he cared deeply for. He closed the kit as he was finishing up tending to his wounds.

“Mammon…” a voice called out. It was Beel, the sixth-born. “What is it, Beel?” He asked.

“Dinner is ready.” Beel answered, then hearing the doorknob to the room turning. “Oh, okay!” Beel saw Mammon, and they both walked together to the dining room. In the middle of their walk, Beel asked, “Are… you okay?” Hesitating at first. “Of course I am! Why do you ask, Beel?” Mammon answered confidently, smiling. “Oh… Nothing.” The orange-haired demon answered.

After dinner, Mammon wanted to gift something to Beel, maybe some cake? “Should I bake it myself?” Mammon knew Beel was indifferent to his cooking, maybe even somewhat disliked it, but still he wanted to do it. Maybe he should ask Luke or even Barbatos to help? Mammon sighed, rolling in his bed, and opening his D.D.D. to write down a reminder. ‘Buy a present with his leftover Grimm.’ and ‘Ask Luke or Barbatos to help bake a cake for Beel!’. He wonders why he just won’t use his leftover Grimm for gambling… He paid no mind and then turned off his D.D.D. and slept, at least some peace for him after today.

---------------------------------------------

After RAD, he immediately approached Barbatos to try to convince him to teach him how to bake. Fortunately, Barbatos agreed! It surprised Mammon when he saw Luke was there as well. “We already planned to bake some new recipes for pastries today, but we don’t mind teaching you.” Barbatos smiled. Luke was reluctant at first, but eventually gave in.

15 cups of flour and 20 eggs wasted. Later, Mammon finally had baked a cake. Well, two cakes! He prepared the frosting and the toppings. Oh, gosh… He was hoping it would taste good.

He passed through a store while walking home. He saw something that caught his eye, something he hoped his brothers would like.

---------------------------------------------

When Mammon opened the door, he was hoping for the usual, maybe some of his brothers lounging in the living room, maybe Beel in the kitchen, looking for food, maybe Belphie sleeping in some unusual spot again, Asmodeus boasting his looks, Levi playing his video games, Satan reading his books.

But he saw something different. His brothers haven’t heard him go through the door yet, and he saw all of them talking to each other, unusual.

“Mammon…!” Lucifer grumbled, one on the precious vases that Diavolo gifted him had gone missing. It was very shiny, made of gold, and most likely expensive. So, when Lucifer found out it was missing, of course, he’d shift the blame automatically to Mammon. He was absolutely furious. Mammon was in the corner, trembling with fear. He was about to come out of the corner when he heard, “… Who would still be surprised with what he’s been doing?” Satan clicked his tongue. It frustrated him as well. Some of his books had been going missing, too. “Oi, oi, some of my stuffs are missing too!” Asmodeus spoke up. He was angered, some of his cosmetics and have been going missing as well.

“I still haven’t found my figurine too!”

Everyone was getting furious with all of their stuff being missing. And they all blamed Mammon for it, someone who was not involved with it at all. He wanted to reason out.

“I wouldn’t care if Mammon disappeared right now.” It was Belphegor. The venom in his voice made Mammon want to sob. He was shaking so much from fear and disappointment in himself.

“It would somehow be better if Lilith was here instead.”… It was Asmodeus.

A tear fell from Mammon’s eyes. “It really hurts when I realize I’ll never mean that much to someone, even from the people I love.”

Everyone looked at the source of the voice.

“Have you really thought I’m that kind of person? You’re right: I am a liar. But can you just believe me, just this one time? I did nothing wrong.” Mammon’s voice was shaking. It was cruel to hear such words from his brothers, especially when you care about them the most.

“Mammon…” Beel tried to speak.

“If ever I was a little bit too greedy, can’t you just give me the benefit of the doubt that I cannot control my sin?” Tears were already streaming from his eyes.

“Really, Mammon? Couldn’t have you at least try to stop yourself from stealing things!?” The eldest brother was furious. He would not believe Mammon this easily, now was he?

“… You think I haven’t… tried?” Mammon spoke. “Lucifer, I was trying not to do anything bad this week. In fact, I DID NOTHING WRONG! I was working my ass off to pay the witches, and haven’t been at home. I couldn’t have done anything wrong!” Mammon was angry now. Did no one actually care for him? Was Mammon just a nobody to his brothers?

“You know what?” Mammon sighed. He dropped the bags he was carrying, and they heard glass shattering. “What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough for any of you?” Mammon left the House of Lamentation, hoping to find maybe a little comfort from Barbatos or the residents of the Purgatory Hall.

Most of Mammon’s brothers were shocked at what he said, but Lucifer didn’t let his pride falter. He was still angry. Where has his compassion and care for his brothers...no, for Mammon has gone? “Mam—…!” The blonde demon stopped the raven-haired demon to follow Mammon. “… Just… Let’s leave him alone for now, Lucifer.” If Mammon comes back, will he be the same again? Or their bubbly Mammon will leave their lives forever now?

Beel picked up the bag that Mammon was carrying, he found a Chocolate Cake and a Strawberry Lake.

But Beel’s heart broke when he saw what was in the other bag.

A framed family picture of the seven demon brothers, smiling happily. And there was a note written to the back of the frame:

“To my brothers! Who I really care for the most! —Mammon”

a/n: i forgot how to write stories T^T

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Ever Patient, Ever Kind

You had a rough day, but father Paul is more than ready to provide comfort. Set after That's Gonna Leave A Scar, but before Of Homilies And Crosswords. I'm working on something of a Halloween piece currently, but I did feel absolutely miserable yesterday and wrote this little thing to feel a bit better. And it actually worked. So if you're having a bad day or just could use some soft & gentle comfort, this might be the fic for you. Enjoy x

gif from @chellestrash - tumblr wouldn’t load it the normal way

Ever Patient, Ever Kind - 2.5K

tw: slight hurt

You felt like shit. A part of you wished you could just erase the entire day, to bury yourself under covers and sleep, preferably for at least two days. You spent your day on the mainland, meeting your publisher, who was once more trying to cheat you out of your earnings for sold books, on top of casually informing you he fired the editor you've worked with basically from the start of your writing career. You met the new editor the same day and, at the end of your meeting, flat out told him you'd be asking for a different one. It was some smug looking young pup, in a way too fancy suit, who instead of talking about your work seemed way too interested in the quickest path into your knickers. His conceited smirk made you want to punch him in the face. But then, you wanted to punch some people in the face just for breathing in your direction today - on top of everything, you were on the first day of your period.

 Despite taking an ibuprofen, you were in constant pain from your stomach cramps, and of course part of your irritability was present because of your stupid out-of-control hormones. You were in such a rotten mood, you didn't even use the opportunity to shop for some things not available in the general store on Crockett Island, instead waiting literally hours for Belle to arrive and take you home, staring daggers at anyone your gaze fell on. You wouldn't even chat up Sturge with whom you always exchanged at least a few words. Seeing your stormy expression, the bearded man didn't even try to engage in a conversation, minding his work on the ferry with 100% of his focus.

 Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you sat on the boat, the dark clouds overhead reflecting your mood rather masterfully and bringing you a little solace. You looked at the text message which just arrived.

 “Hey, wanna hang out once you're back? Riley's over too." 

 You sighed. As much as you loved spending time with the two of them, you really didn't feel like doing so on this particular day, the picture of your warm bed and some disgustingly gory horror film strangely seeming more tempting.

 "I'm sorry, but I guess it'll be just the two of you tonight. Hope that won't be a problem ;)" you finished with a smiley face who's smile didn't reflect your expression at all.

 "Aw, you're ditching me for the priest??" 

 You sighed quietly and typed back: "No, it's just… today's been a little fucked up. I kind of want to be alone. I'd hate to be a party pooper." And you were being honest. For some reason, not even a prospect of going to see Father Paul at the rectory seemed to lift your spirits right now. Most of all, though, you really didn't want to spread your foul mood, especially on your closest friends.

 "Alright. I hope you'll feel better soon. If you need anything or you change your mind, you know where I am <3"

 You knew you'd be alright the next day, all you needed was a hot bowl of soup (preferably some delicious, nasty instant noodles), sensible 13 hours of sleep, and some anatomically incorrect guts being pulled out of some buxom 'college student' on the telly. But of course, God works in mysterious ways.

 You literally rammed into the very person you were not ditching your best friend for on your way home. You were walking very fast, your pace nearly angry and you paid no mind to anyone you passed. Up until you turned around a corner and bumped into the unsuspecting priest so hard, the poor man lost his balance and fell bum first onto the ground. "Oh, god!" you gasped in horror, immediately feeling ashamed and guilty, and dropped to your knees next to father Paul, who looked as if his mind wasn't able to process what on earth just happened. "I'm so sorry Paul! Are you hurt?" His eyes were the size of saucers and he blinked several times before answering: "Um, no, I-I'm fine. I'm sorry, I guess I was just… standing in the wrong place." 

 You sighed and regarded the situation. He was still sitting on his backside in the dirt, long legs bent at the knees, while you kneeled next to him. The sky was becoming darker with the oncoming evening and you probably looked like a pair of idiots, just lounging in the middle of the street, looking dumbly at each other. Sighing again, you stood up and offered your hand to the priest. "I'm so sorry, I mean it," you said as you helped pull him to his feet, "I wasn't paying attention where I was going." Your voice was soft now, filled with fatigue and pity. Oh, how you wanted to disappear right now. Father Paul smiled at you softly and began dusting off his jeans with his hands. "It's alright, don't worry. How are you, how did the meeting go?" he asked and finally looked at you fully.

 A worried line appeared between his expressive eyebrows as his eyes travelled over you and he saw the state you were in. Your own eyes were a bit red, from crying a little in your frustrations earlier, your face was probably pale with the pain you felt the entire day and there was generally a miserable expression on your face. You weren't looking at him now, your gaze stubbornly glued to your own feet. "Hey," his large warm hand softly enclosed your upper arm, right below your shoulder, before moving up to lift your chin with his thumb and forefinger, "come with me to the rectory, we can talk, have some cocoa, I've even got something to eat." You shook your head weakly: "I don't want to be a burden, you've got enough of your plate without me venting out my problems to you while eating you out of your house…"

 The priest rolled his eyes and shook his head too, way more vehemently than you. "Don't be silly. You could never be a burden. I just want to help you feel better. You know I'm always here for you, right, ready to talk about everything, the good and the bad. Also, I still owe you for that lunch, anyway. Come on…" You looked into his eyes, finding nothing but fondness and warmth in them, and it was such an amazing thing to see after the hellish day, it brought fresh tears to your eyes with emotion. "Come on," he said again, even softer this time and pulled a soft handkerchief out of his trouser pocket, handing it to you. His long, strong arm wrapped around your shoulders then and he began leading you towards his little house. You no longer resisted, and instead just dabbed at your wet eyes with the cloth, sniffling a bit.

 Once in the rectory, you were promptly given a simple cold cut and cheese sandwich with fresh vegetable on the side. Father Paul kept apologising that he had nothing better at the moment, but you hadn't eaten the entire day and the sandwich honestly tasted divine. Your eyes were closed with bliss as the pain in your stomach lessened with every bite. Paul ate beside you, sitting at the table in the corner of the room, not saying a word. Once you were done eating, he took the plates away to dispose of them in the sink and began preparing the cocoa. You automatically went to sit on the couch where the priest joined you after a few minutes, handing you a steaming hot cup of cocoa. The cup, the one you always drank from, warmed your hands and you breathed in the sweet chocolatey smell, sighing in pleasure. Father Paul once more wrapped an arm around you, and you immediately leaned into him, your head dropping to rest on his shoulder. His cheek made contact with the top of your head and you could feel soft puffs of air tickling your nose slightly everytime the priest exhaled. "Do you want to talk about it then?" he asked then. You closed your eyes.

 You told him everything. About your pain (you didn't go into details), your filthy cheat of a publisher and of course the bloody fool of an editor, who, as it turned out, was the publisher's nephew, recently kicked out from university, who only got the job because of his connections. The priest stayed strangely quiet when you told him of the editor's unwelcome advances, only slightly increasing his hold on your shoulder. You told Paul about your worries of trying to find someone new to publish your work and the possible backlash of 'being very rude' to the 'promising young man' who would surely 'be the boss of the entire company one day'. Your cocoa was long gone and the mugs lay on the table. You were unconsciously toying with the priest's free hand, a habit of yours since you were little. Your fingers traced over every line, every curve, every little fold of skin on Paul's large, lean hand, drawing invisible patterns, or just softly bending and straightening each finger. You sometimes softly cried some more while you talked, but the man next to you was quick to wipe off the tears with his handkerchief, ever patient, ever kind.

 And ever right, apparently. You truly did feel better, now that your belly was full and your woes spoken out loud. "Well then," you said at last and somehow managed to lean even more into the priest's warm embrace, "what do I do, father?" Paul took a deep breath and you practically felt every second of it against your side: "Nothing. That's what I think." You pulled slightly back to look at him questioningly. "I mean, I don't really know how this entire… business works, but I'm fairly certain you're entitled to work with whoever you want to. If you don't, as you say, 'click' with the editor, if they make you uncomfortable even, the publishers can't force you to work with them and only them. You help them make money too, so you should be able to pick who you want to work with! As for the publisher itself, as I said, your books are selling well, they'd be stupid to get rid of you and you can still work with them while you look elsewhere. I'm sure many other companies would be just delighted to have you write under 'their colours'." 

 Paul's words made sense and they felt like a comforting blanket. "I hope you're right," you said only and settled back against him. You stayed that way for a long time after that, just enjoying his warmth, filled with adoration and gratitude for the man, your thumbs stroking each other's hand now.

 "It's late," you said, noticing the watch on his left hand, "I should probably go home." Paul sat still and quiet for a minute or two, his hands showing no intention of releasing you. "Or you could stay," he spoke quietly, nearly whispering, "some of your things are still here…" Which was true, you did leave some stuff behind after your little accident, your pyjamas, a clean set of clothes, the bag with extra toiletries you kept for travelling. You never really made an effort to pick them up and Paul hadn't spoken of them either. You had everything else you needed in your bag. "I-... I don't want you to be alone. But if that's what you wish, I'm not going to stop you." You did want to be alone before, wanted to just bury your frustrations deep down and not face them until you actually had to, but now… Now the very idea of leaving the priest's arms to walk through the dark cold night back to your empty home seemed positively dreadful. "(Y/N)?" asked Paul. You exhaled and closed your eyes: "I'll stay."

 Father Paul handed you a clean towel and your pyjamas, which he pulled out of the bottom of his dresser. They were clean and neatly folded, hidden from prying eyes under his own clothes. Your toiletries, including a small bottle of shower gel, a tiny hairbrush, a tube of deodorant and even your extra toothbrush were all tucked neatly into the bathroom mirror cabinet. You were also very glad you always carried a small stash of pads (including night ones) with you. You washed the last remaining stress of the day with hot water, which really helped loosen your tense muscles, and by the time you were done and ready to leave the bathroom, you felt like a new person entirely. Father Paul then took your place there and you went to crawl under his covers, lying down in the spot of his bed which now felt quite familiar.

 The pillows and the blankets, the sheets, they all smelled of the priest. You were literally enveloped by his scent, a mix of incense, traces of his cologne and something like sandalwood, which was just so incredibly him, and you inhaled deeply, feeling comfort seeping into each and every pore of your body. The only light in the room came from the lamp on Paul's bedside table and from the little gap under the door leading to the bathroom. The unchanging hum of running water in the next room was slowly lulling you to sleep.

 Finally there was a click as the light switch turned off and Paul left the now dark bathroom, wearing the form-fitting p.j.'s you were also familiar with already. He too lied down in his usual spot and turned off the lamp, bathing the rectory bedroom in darkness. You both turned to face each other at the same time. You'd already slept in this bed several times, but it was different now. Now there was no illness, no injury which would mean one of you had to make sure the other was alright and safe, now you had pretty much no logical reason to be here. The priest simply wanted you here. You simply wanted to be here with him. His hand found yours above the covers, as it did everytime you were there, but it felt much more intimate now. 

 You were glad he couldn't see you clearly as you squeezed his hand in return, for your cheeks were rapidly becoming red. It felt like a moment between lovers. And it should feel so strange and wrong, knowing his position on this island. The funny thing was, it didn't. It felt right and like the most natural thing in the world, even as you pulled his hand closer to press a single feathery kiss against his knuckles. It didn't feel wrong, it felt like love. Pure and simple. 

 Your brain was probably half asleep already, because it didn't stop you from doing something which you would never dare to do while fully conscious. You moved on the bed and closer to him, your arm extending until it was resting on his slim waist, while still keeping some distance between you bodies. "Thank you," you breathed out oh so quietly, worried that anything louder would shatter the moment completely. Paul didn't speak, his own hand slowly caressed your cheek and hair, before it too settled on your waist, his long fingers somehow warming your entire side. "Sweet dreams, (Y/N)".

I hope you enjoyed reading, you can check this story and the entire series on AO3. Comments always lift my spirits as much as writing these silly little fics does <3

[pharahsgf]

re: your post about wei wuxian and the "asshole cousin" post: I find that in general the way people talk about wei wuxian's personality is very misguided, bc they seem to forget that 1. he's actually very well-liked. a big part of cql is seeing how he goes from Popular With Lots Of Friends to Public Enemy Number One, 2. he is very aware of his position ("son of a servant", "owes" the jiang family for taking him in, etc.) so he is going to make an effort to be polite and accomplished and good with people. if he deviates from this it's usually bc someone he cares about is being targeted (like jiang yanli or lan wangji or the wens) or bc he himself is being targeted to a point that is unbearable (such as everyone literally trying to kill him). yes he can be cheeky and silly and pouty but he only is like that with people who he is VERY close to (again, like jiang yanli "xianxian is three" bc she's his sister, or lan wangji bc that's what significant others are for. they are for being silly around lol). and even then, that's not rude, that's just being a person with loved ones. he always treats characters kindly, both in the past and the present, no matter what their background is. wei wuxian isn't the asshole cousin, he's the cousin who all the grannies force-feed sweets to bc he's always helping them out and who all the lil kids are excited to see bc he treats them like people instead of "dumb kids"

for reallll, ppl talk about wei wuxian in his youth like he was this constant terror upon the cultivation world whom nobody could stand to be around, like some bizarre precursor to his eventual pariah status and exile, but the truth is that he was a charming, beloved, popular kid with an exceedingly good reputation, who was described as a credit to the jiang sect despite jiang cheng and madame yu's claims of the contrary. in fact, when we see him interact with people who aren't his siblings or ppl he's deliberately trying to irritate, he's generally very polite and well-spoken, and his experience with living on the street means he pretty consistently has a better rapport with common people than almost any other cultivator.

wei wuxian is not a chronically irreverent idiot with no sense of decorum who elicits only irritation and eye-rolling; he is an incisively intelligent, eloquent, charismatic young master whose weapon of choice is his skill of persuasion, and that's why he was so famous, and why his fall from grace was so shocking.

[sixpillarsofgenesis]

OKAY SO:

Some XBC3 thoughts because my brain will NOT LEAVE ME ALONE about them.

LANZ

I think, given Lanz’s aptitude for being assigned TWO healer classes (plus Soulhacker, which can turn into a healing class if you’re determined to), could have been a healer had he not decided to barrel headlong into sacrificial tank mode.

What would that have meant? Healer Tank! To the best of my knowledge, none of the healers in the game are particularly durable combatants, and at least one character does have the ability to manifest a shield that heals upon impact. (Zeon’s Deflector Shield, to be specific)

As such, it’s entirely possible that Lanz could have gone full ham into Guardian Healer if he wanted to, a niche specialty that could have still fed into his sacrificial tendencies. (High aggro, constant use of Regen to restore lost health, consistent abuse of blocking, etc.) I do hope that we see that someday, if not in Lanz, then in another character through the DLC.

EUNIE

A late-game sidequest actually mentions that Eunie only ever learned enough healing to ‘get by’, which implies that Healing, unlike most other roles, does not have to be determined by the weapon that they use. (This does make sense, since Eunie is shown working as an Attacker early on, and in her previous life, she was a sniper like Mwamba.)

But, what if Eunie had gone all in on healing? What would she have looked like? Would she have gone into strong debuffs like Taion? Would she DPS heal on hit similar to Teach? She learned Field Skills, similar to Joran, but she has more affinity to Tanks like Monica and Ashera, both of whom have various skills that are useful for Eunie.

But what if Eunie was a Defender instead? This is mostly based on the fact that Eunie has two classes that encourage counterattacking - Ashera’s Returning the Favor, and Monica’s Come an’ Get Me, both of which return damage to the enemy.

Ironically, this actually makes Sena the better Oroboros candidate for Eunie.

NOAH

Turns him upside down; shakes him.

What the hell do we do with you, sunshine? Noah, of all three Kevesi teams, seems to be the most suited to being an Attacker. He could probably do just fine as a Healer, or a Defender, but for him, it’s not really a priority, not in the way it was for Eunie or Lanz. Noah fits in his niche as an Attacker, and not in the conventional way. He’s a tactician, a planner. He’s fast enough to come up with plans on the fly, and he has the ability to maintain his cool even under fire.

Additionally, he’s capable of restraint of firepower, an option neither Healers nor Defenders have, being focused on Healing and Defense, obviously. Option and recommendation: Defender evasion tank, if he had to pick an alternate.

MIO

Why is this girl not a healer? Answer me Monolith Soft, you cowards. Yes, Nia is probably her mother. NO I DON’T GIVE A SNUFF MAKE HER A HEALER YOU COWARDS.

I will not be taking criticism.

TAION

Taion tanks more than actual tanks in his cutscenes. Explain to me that, you cowards. Also, Taion holds heavy responsibility towards other people, to the point that he blamed himself for a plan of another person’s making. Also, a Defender has a good idea of everyone’s status, despite Taion’s quote of how healing duty is the best monitor of a battlefield.

Defender Taion you cowards.

SENA

The Girl With The Gall! … I will never understand why she did not pick up a flute in Miyabi’s absence. Given Sena’s tendencies to mimic that of the people she often envies and considers to be more worthy of Mio’s attention, I’m genuinely surprised she didn’t try, given how hard she tries to seek approval in all the wrong ways. If not an offseer, Sena’s desire to protect at the cost of her own life fits the Attacker Profile, especially since she is so reckless in defending herself.

[cxlxrx]

Pinky Swear

Chapter summary: Hughie learns to live with Soldier Boy and his triggers

Warnings: canon typical violence, PTSD

WC: 2.792

A/N: again tagging my amazing beta @lifeisthisilikethis (I can't thank you enough really, your little details and ideas for the story are great <3) and @whoopsitswhump (you give me such good headcanons for the story, thanks :3)

Chapter 2

Soldier Boy really followed Hughie everywhere, it got annoying pretty quickly. When Hughie went to sleep, Soldier Boy sat at the foot of his bed, staring at the door. When Hughie woke up, he was still in this position. But the supe trailing after him like a lost puppy was not the worst part, the worst part was that he didn't talk.

So he didn't tell Hughie what he wanted, what he needed. And Hughie also had Butcher asking for information, but he couldn’t see that happening any time soon. And there was something else that Hughie hated but Butcher loved-- Soldier Boy only acted when Hughie commanded him to.

Hughie had cut Soldier Boy’s beard and hair. After that he nearly looked like his old pictures. Hughie was kind of impressed, Soldier Boy hadn't aged a day. The man whom Hughie was only used to seeing in history books was now inhabiting his apartment. He bought Soldier Boy some clothes. For himself he bought a Geiger counter. Now the (mostly) steady ticking from the counter was his other day to day partner.

Soldier Boy was actually easy to handle, until he wasn't. He wouldn't eat or drink on his own. He wouldn't even go to the toilet until Hughie said he should do it. He was Hughie’s second shadow by now. But still the worst thing for Hughie was Soldier Boy’s refusal to speak. Even when Hughie tried to convince him. The only proof that Soldier Boy understood him was the ticking of the Geiger counter getting faster. After many futile attempts and an unhealthy amount of irradiation, Hughie stopped trying to convince him.

Overall, the constant fear of being blown away made everyday life pretty complicated. Certain noises, words, actions, or even smells always made the Geiger counter speed up. Hughie immediately took note of it and tried to remove the trigger from Soldier Boy’s immediate vicinity. Butcher had casually voiced the theory that they probably would all be blown to bits if the Geiger counter was high enough. And well, Hughie still wanted to live. Despite everything.

"Here", Hughie held out a glass to Soldier Boy, "Drink."

Soldier Boy took the glass and drank all the water in one go. He has already been living with Butcher and Hughie for a week, but he has yet to meet any of the other team members. And even worse, Hughie and Butcher didn't tell the others anything about the  103 years old radioactive guy sharing their living quarters. They knew it was all bound to blow up in their faces, be it literally or metaphorically. So they decided to come clean. They couldn't postpone the meeting any longer.

"Today some friends will drop by to visit us", Hughie said.

Soldier Boy looked at him, tilted his head. After a week Hughie had gotten better at reading him. When he tilted his head it usually meant he didn't really understand what Hughie wanted from him. After a while Hughie figured out that he needed to be exact and detailed in what he said. For example, saying 'sit down', was bound to only get him a confused heat tilt-- he had to say 'sit down on the couch'. Every time the instructions weren't clear enough, the beeping coming from the Geiger counter would pick up, and Hughie would immediately hurry to add specifics. 

"We’ve already talked about this", Hughie said calmly, "Frenchie, Kimiko and MM. They're my friends… our friends."

Soldier Boy only looked at him.

"They will be coming around 1 pm, and then we will order some take out, get something to eat. Do you understand?" Hughie had found out that Soldier Boy could better adapt to new things when he knew exactly what was going to  happen.

The Geiger counter was slower, the number displayed on the little screen oscillating between 70 and 80, which Hughie knew was pretty normal when it came to Soldier Boy. He constantly put out steady stream of  ionizing radiation. Hughie didn't want to push him to his limit. Soldier Boy nodded.

Hughie sighed, "Okay, that's good. Do you want to sleep?"

Soldier Boy's pupils widened a little, but otherwise his body remained still as a statue. Sleep was a difficult topic. The supe didn't sleep when Hughie did it. It was like he would rather guard Hughie, probably one of his duties back with the Russians. Soldier Boy only slept when Hughie was awake and in close proximity. Mostly, Soldier Boy slept during the day, as Hughie cooked, cleaned,  or watched a movie. But Soldier Boy didn't trust Butcher, so he refused to let sleep overtake him if someone beside Hughie was around. Hughie had unfortunately only found this out 4 days ago.

He had always assumed Soldier Boy would also sleep as he slept (he thought the sitting position was a comfort thing fro the supe). But no, that wasn't the case. Hughie could have slapped himself afterwards. The third day Soldier Boy was with him, he started to scratch himself. And he kept scratching, and scratching. The abrasions got so deep they drew blood. Hughie nearly lost his lunch when he saw the gaping wounds on his forearm and the puddle of blood staining the floor, slowly getting bigger, threatening to leave a permanent reminder of the incident on the white rug.

After that particular episode, Hughie was more sensitive when it came to Soldier Boy’s sleeping schedule. Namely, he tried to come up with one.  He never wanted to see the supe hurting himself in order to stay awake ever again. Soldier Boy had been awake for three consecutive days and Hughie had no idea. He didn’t even want to think about how much longer it would have gone on if he had missed the scratches. His conscience was heavy, even now, even when he knew it wasn’t entirely his fault.  He had tortured Soldier Boy  probably much like the Russians did.

"I will be right here", Hughie gestured to the couch, "I will watch a movie and Butcher won't be here for a couple of hours. It's safe. You can sleep now."

Soldier Boy nodded slowly. He stood up and headed to the table in front of the couch. He curled up under it and folded his hands over his head. It tugged painfully at Hughie’s heartstrings, seeing the other man in this position. He slept like a little kid, curled up under the table in a  foetal position. Hughie  went in the kitchen to wash the dishes. After putting them away, he returned to the living room.  He sat on the couch to started a movie.

He was always on highly alert during these times. The Geiger counter always started to tick faster when Soldier Boy was asleep. Hughie was afraid that  the Supe could get triggered by a nightmare, that he could go off in his sleep. He was kind of glad Soldier Boy didn't need much sleep. He usually was out for no more than 5 to 6 hours. But he twitched a lot in his sleep as the light in his chest shone steadily through his shirt. Soldier Boy asleep was always a stress test for Hughie. He only hope he would keep getting a passing grade, or else they were both fucked.

Hughie knew the boys coming over would be uncomfortable. He didn't know how Soldier Boy would reacted to them. Starlight had been a good start, but slowly Hughie understood why. Frenchie was absolutely excited about Soldier Boy. He circled him multiple times, fascinated by the light in his chest.

"I always thought it was a rumour. Like this kind of legend the army made up to scare their enemies, to hold it over their heads."

His eyes were wide as he looked at Soldier Boy's chest. Hughie knew he was itching to touch it, to better examine it, to take it apart and put it back together until he knew all there was to know about it. Frenchie confirmed his assumptions almost instantly. 

"Can I touch it?"

"Ehm, no, you really shouldn't. He can't stand... touching", Hughie said slowly, still a bit unsure about the whole situation.

Soldier Boy stood extremely close to him. Hughie could feel the heat radiating off of him. It was like being handcuffed to a furnace.  Yesterday he took Soldier Boy's temperature and it was over 110 °F. Hughie would be extremely worried if it weren’t for the whole ‘radioactive supe with a bright shining light in his chest’ thing . The fact that he didn't look sick in the slightest also went a long way into putting Hughie’s mind at ease.

Suddenly Frenchie was in front of him, smiling. Hughie winced a bit, he'd been deep in thought, distracted. Now that he had satisfied his curiosity, at least for the time being, the frenchman wanted to give him the hello hug that got lost in his initial excitement over their new team mate. His hands had barely  touched Hughie’s shoulders as found himself brutally ripped away. He was thrown across the length of the room and crashed in Butcher's desk.

"What are you doing?", Hughie shouted and Soldier Boy winced hard.

He stared at his feet. The Geiger counter ticked rapidly and the light was brighter then usual. Soldier Boy's eyes were blank. He didn't look at anybody,  just kept on staring at the floor, but Hughie knew he was on highly alert.

MM raised his eyebrows and stepped away from the wall he was leaning against, an angry look on his face, a way to cover up the betrayal and hurt Hughie could see brimming underneath. 

"He's fucking dangerous", he hissed.

So far he had just stood next to the door, eyeing  Soldier Boy with a look full of hatred. Hughie had never seen so much hate in MM’s eyes before. If looks could kill, the supe would be dead a hundred times over by now.

"He was when he killed my family and obviously he still is." He looked at Hughie in disbelief, "Why you don't see it? He could kill every single one of us without breaking a sweat, and go on his merry way. The man has no conscience, Hughie."

He made a movement in Hughie's direction and the Geiger counter on the table ticked faster. It was in the low hundreds now.

"MM don't", Hughie felt dizzy. He hadn’t even known about MM's family.

This meeting was such a stupid idea… but on the other hand, these people were his family. Usually, if one of them ran into trouble, all of them had to deal with the fallout. So they had a right to know about Soldier Boy. Just in case Hughie bit off more than he could chew. Which, loath as he was to admit it, seemed to be the case here. They needed to be prepared.

"That's enough MM", Butcher said and stepped next to Hughie, "Ya' don't touch him. We need him."

MM stared at him.

"So you get your pound of flesh when it comes to Homelander, but I don't get mine. Real nice, Butcher. "

When Butcher threw him one of his cocky smiles, Hughie knew something dangerous was bound to happen.

"Ya' can have your revenge. But not know."

"Don't mind me", Frenchie said from the other side of the room, groaning in pain, "I'm just laying in the rubble of what used to be a fucking desk and my ribs are fucking broken. Merde!"

Hughie turned around in alarm, quickly moving towards him.

"Your ribs are broken!?"

Kimiko, who was sitting at Frenchie's side, shook her head. Hughie didn't miss how she had positioned herself in front of Frenchie. A barrier. Protective.

"But they could be!", Frenchie said and let Kimiko pull him back on his feet.

"He's just our weapon", Butcher explained to MM, and Hughie turned his attention back to them.

MM still stared at Soldier Boy, the Geiger counter was still ticking too fast for Hughie’s comfort. He looked at the supe, attempting to get the situation under control. 

"Ehm...it's okay", he said quietly, with the tone of someone trying to calm a spooked, cornered wild beast.

He didn't knew what he should say or do, but he assumed that if nobody tried to touch Soldier Boy or him again, it would be fine. Soldier Boy looked at him. His eyes were wide and... and green. Such a brilliant, lush green. Hughie shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the unwelcome thought from his treacherous brain. He didn’t know where that had come from, but he wasn’t fond of that particular line of thinking. The ticking slowed down.

"... then we’ll take it from there.", Hughie only caught the tail end of Butcher’s talk with MM, as the man turned to him  "And anyway, he does everything Hughie tells him to."

"Est-ce vrai?? Really? ", Frenchie said from behind and came to stand next to the others, but still a few steps away from Soldier Boy.

"The Russian broke his mind", Butcher said, "He's not the man he was, but", he raised his right forefinger, "that's good for us. We can just point and shoot, have him take out any target that needs taking out."

"Like our own personal nuke.. ", Frenchie spoke in wonder."Exactly.", Butcher answered, "He's our first real opportunity to kill Homelander and every other fucking supe. He's like a one man army. His shining", Butcher gestured to Soldier Boy's chest, "is just the edge we need to turn the tide, stop scurrying around like rats, actually do some real damage to the fuckers ."

Everyone already knew that. They’ve heard the stories, learned about them in school classrooms, whispered to each other the urban legends on the playground. But no one ever saw him using this power. On the other hand,  nobody was eager to see what he could do. Radioactive explosion sounded like a bad thing.

Kimiko pulled at Frenchie's sleeve and signed something. Frenchie seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded and turned back to Butcher.

"She thinks it's a bad idea. We shouldn't mess around with something as destructive as him. Especially since he’s not only radioactive, but most probably mentally unstable too."

"Seeing as he’s our best bet to take out Homelander, I’m willing to take the risk", Butcher answered.

"T’es sérieux? I'm with Kimiko", Frenchie said, "I mean, a fucking radioactive explosion. Butcher, I think that's too much, even for us. When in history has dropping a nuke ever been the answer?"

"Who fucking asked ya'? He's the best fucking weapon we have against the other supes and I will fucking use it."

"Okay, that's enough", Hughie said, and five pairs of eyes turned to look at him.

Like they had forgotten he was actually there. And yes, Hughie himself had nearly forgotten he was there. His eyes locked with Soldier Boy’s for a brief moment.

"I want Homelander dead as much as any of you, but lets not forget, he's an actual human being first, and a radioactive bomb second” he continued, gesturing to the supe.

“We don't know how powerful the explosion could be and we can't ask him either. Because he doesn't fucking talk. Because he's fucking traumatized!  I don't really know if betting everything on somebody whose psyche is so heavily damaged a car backfiring outside could set him off is a good idea”, Hughie exhaled loudly, finishing his impromptu rant.

Sure, he wanted Homelander dead, wanted to protect Annie, wanted to keep his friends and the world at large safe from the unstable leader of The Seven.  With Homelander dead, they could all finally breath easy. They could start building their lives and planning for the future, instead of looking over their shoulder, unsure if their next breath will be their last. Hughie would do anything to make it happen, but he was afraid the price could turn out to be to high. Pitting Soldier Boy against Homelander could be disastrous. Lots of lives would be lost. Innocent people would die, and Hughie could never forgive himself. He wasn’t eager to add more blood to the red already staining his hands. 

Butcher slapped a hand on Hughie's shoulder, startling him for his reverie. Immediately, Soldier Boy took a step forward. Hughie raised his right hand, placating.

"It's okay."

"Then get the cunt fucking ready for the big showdown", Butcher said, misinterpreting Hughie’s words as agreement, "He'll kill Homelander. Doesn't matter what the fuck ya'll say, he will. I'll make fucking sure of that."

He grinned, "That'll be fucking diabolical."