#and then there’s all those other things that i can’t talk about lest i start crying again

[stardial]

good morning….. i had a little nightmare and now i’m sad

[paradlselost]

. ⋮ ULTRAVIOLENCE .ᐟ ֹ

doctor phosphorus x female reader

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ fun fact i’ve wanted to eat uranium for a long time so he is the worlds most perfect man to me . also sorry for not writing anything in so long , i’ve been busy and jumping from hyperfixation to hyperfixation for a while now as you can see by my unfinished mouthwashing fanfics . but i watched the show last night and he is my favorite and there’s almost nothing about him so i had to . enjoy !

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ monster ! reader , mentions of body dysmorphia and imposter syndrome / depersonalization , religious trauma + blasphemy ( cause i can’t help myself ) specifically in catholicism , catholic rituals , depictions of eating raw meat , depictions of wounds , hurt / comfort , depictions of cannibalism , described body horror . smut : fire / burning kink , dry humping , fingering , male moans ( yay ! ) .

3 . 1 k words ++ not beta read .

Eyes flutter closed, allowing darkness to wash over you. Soft sounds of birds chirping fill the room around you, drowning out the constant humming of the chip in the back of your neck. You’re hyper aware of everything, the fabric of the blanket that covers you and the cold air that stings your nose as you breath in; chest rising and falling in rhythm.

You remember how reluctant the guards that watched over you were to allow you the sounds you so desperately needed to sleep, not believing your pleas to quiet your constantly racing mind. Nearly a week without rest made them understand rather quickly, when, despite the power dampener locked around your neck, talons began to grow out of your hands and your spine contorted with the growing of fleshy wings.

It seems you’ve been blessed, something has gone right for once in your life as you’re now able to change the sounds to whatever you wish instead of the constant rushing of waves. Secretly, you’re happy to have been put on this mission. Grateful, even, as much as you could be to a monster like Waller. Perhaps you could even forgive her for the electrocution you’d been put through.

Weasel kips at the foot of your bed, stuck to your side since the day you had snapped at him: barred your fangs and shoved him away from you. Something about the beast had been so pathetic that you ended up apologizing and giving a hesitant scratch to the back of his ears. He’s good company, loyal if not a bit of a flea concern, and he listens when you speak to him unlike many of the others in the special containment of Belle Reave.

Nina was kind, as well, perhaps a bit out of her element, though. You’d once tried to make small talk with GI but that ended as quickly as it had started with his sudden interrogation on if you were a Nazi. And god, you wouldn’t dare bring anything up to the others.

Crickets chirped through the headphones you had been allowed to wear, owls hooting and birds calling. A forest at night, a beautiful scene you were sure you wouldn’t be able to see freely again, but you do not indulge in those negative thoughts. You can already feel it looming over you, exhaustion and stress mingling to bring it out. The thing that stirrs inside you, monstrous and ugly. Its hungry, and you know better than to ignore that hunger lest the Weasel that kips at the foot of your bed be more than a scrap of fur.

So, you stirr. Sitting up in the bed you remove your headphones and push the blanket from your form quietly as to not disturb him. He’s almost cute when he sleeps, like a crusty old dog that resembles more of a tattered blanket than a pet. Regardless, you close the door quietly behind you and walk down the long winding hallways of the palace. Truthfully, you had never been anywhere quite as lavish, never had a king sized bed all to yourself or a private bathroom. Its almost too big, especially at night when the shadows dance up the walls and cast an ominous glare over just about everything.

You know better than to gaze at your shadow as you pass the large walls with royal family portraits. Unworthy, unrighteous, evil. The rosary marks still pierce your skin, forced to pray this thing away day and night till your palms and knees bled. You’ve grown resentful towards the being that shares your body. It makes demands of you, to feast, a single slip can give way and allow it to control you. Some kind of devil, the reason you’re here in the first place.

Your mouth had begun to hurt in your search for the kitchen, gums beginning to bleed and pool against the base of your tongue.. You’d have thought you’d be used to this by now, that your world wouldn’t continue to be turned upside down, that the Lord’s Prayer wouldn’t recite involuntarily in your mind as it all starts over again. You stumble over your own two feet, finding yourself silently wishing you had that power dampener around your neck once again. Your stomach rumbles more.

It feels like an eternity till you finally find the kitchen, thankful that all the servants had retired for the night so you can spit your mouthful of blood into the sink. Crimson stains the marble, dripping from your chin as you turn on the faucet to wash your mouth of the taste. Your fangs had grown in now, taking space in front of your canines and piercing uncomfortably against your bottom lip whenever you close your mouth. Hunger gnaws at your stomach as if beginning to consume the lining itself.

You throw open the fridge door with little care of the noise it makes as it slams into the counter beside it. Eyes scour for something, anything, till you land on a large, raw goose marinating for tomorrow nights feast. Shaky hands reach out to grab it, allowing the glass tray it sits in to fall to the ground and shatter. The shards prick at your bare feet, cutting and marring your skin with more blood, though you don’t seem to notice.

Fangs sink into the bird, soft flesh breaking at the intrusion. The taste is almost euphoric, never had you tasted a meat so rich and fatty; your body had gotten far too used to the awful prison food they served in containment. You rip out a large chunk; tendons harshly snapping from the body as you swallow nearly without chewing. Your eyes gloss over as you devour the bird, reaching in to grab at the sausage links that had also been waiting to be cooked the next day.

You hadn’t realized how much you had truly lost yourself till a harsh green glow halted your feast. Head whipping around to greet the skeletal face of Phosphorus, a hiss falling from your lips that still wrapped around a chunk of meat like a food insecure cat. He was your least favorite of all, acting as if he knew everything simply because he had been a doctor before his incident. Not like it mattered in Belle Reave, and certainly not in the monster sector they were kept in.

“Woah. Calm down, I’m not takin’ that from you.” A huff came from him, head tilted to the side as he watched you, almost intrigued with the way you acted. He simply stepped past you, walking over to the sink and simply staring down at the blood that had graced the basin. “This yours?”

The link fell from your mouth, rolling into the shards of glass and crimson as the fangs retracted back into your gums, eyes returning to normal. All you could do was stare at him, as if he had asked the most stupid question in the world. Smartest man in the room your ass.

“Who else’s would it be?”

“Don’t know, thats why I’m asking. Flag and I got into a fight earlier and I totally won, so I’m just wondering.”

“Oh.”

He leans back against the countertop, facing you now, the sleeves of his hoodie protecting him from burning through the granite. Part of him had always intrigued you, in a way, everyone but Weasel had a signature outfit; but him? A hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. It was almost comical how simple he was, though you supposed there wasnt much he could keep. A step towards him, wincing at the sudden realization of what you had done.

His gaze followed yours, looking down to the glass and blood that gushed from your feet and ankles. The light from the fridge and his green glow illuminated the space between you two, dancing off the shards on the floor. Your mouth was covered as well, sloppily wiped onto your cheeks as you had feasted. God, you looked a mess, but the pain distracted you from that fact. Biting your bottom lip to muffle a pathetic whimper of pain.

“Cmon don’t cry, what’s a little glass among friends?”

“I am not crying.”

If he had eyes to roll no doubt he would’ve. Stepping over to you and hooking an arm around your shoulder to help you stand without any warning. Your first instinct is to fight him off, to tell him no and shout at him, but you don’t. Instead, you lean into the touch and allow him to help you hobble up the stairs to, what you originally assume to be your room, but soon discover he’s guiding you into his, and then, into his bathroom.

Theres something almost intimate about the way he grabs your hips to help you onto the counter so he can patch you up. You hadn’t asked this from him, but it didn’t seem to matter much now as he filled a bucket with warm soapy water, dunking a rag in a few times and using the help of tweezers to pick the glass out of your skin. You do your best not to flinch, using the time to preoccupy yourself with washing off the blood from your face.

John 13. You detest the thought, Belle Reave had ripped every ounce of belief from your body, but the ceremonies and rituals of your youth had not quite left your mind, and the intimacy of the moment didn’t help. Silence filled the room, the only noises being the soft sounds of the wash cloth being dunked into the water and squeezed out. You’d seen it before, a relatives wedding, the washing of the feet ceremony. It’s meant to be intimate, to be between spouses, to show commitment and love just as Jesus had to his disciples. You feel far more like Judas, however, with the monster that festers inside you.

“So. What was that?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts, eyes fluttering down to look at him, hesitating at his question. You don’t have a good answer, not one that wraps everything up into a neat bow at the least. Just what you know, which isn’t much.

“It’s the reason I’m classified as a monster. Theres… something that lives inside me, a devil of sorts I was always told. It’s been there for as long as I can remember, its why I had to wear the collar back in confinement. It starts to creep out whenever I slip, get too comfortable or let my guard down.” You’re quiet, not wanting to break the softness of this encounter. “I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“You don’t have to apologize. We’re all freaks, its the whole point of this task force.”

“I guess. I’m still sorry.”

A huff comes from Phosphorus as he grabs a clean washcloth, dunking it in fresh water and reaching up to wipe off some of the blood that you had missed, that still marrs your mouth and flesh. He’s close, now, very much so. He smells of sulfur, though it does not cause you to recoil or scrunch your nose; its a scent you’ve grown accustomed to with the monster that shares your body. Can a skeleton be attractive? Is that possible?

You lean into the feeling of the warm washcloth against your cheek; having been so long since someone had touched you. Before you had been arrested you indulged in sin, lust, it had engulfed your body and it wasn’t a feeling you ever wanted to encounter again. How it could consume your entire being, give control over to someone other than yourself. It’s a fine line for you, but you feel the distantly familiar feeling of butterflies flutter in your stomach at the proximity of him.

You feel sick; like bile will creep up your throat any moment, but it doesn’t feel bad. Not with how he lets the cloth be a barrier between the two of you, between his hands that will burn your body at his touch. You’d welcome it, to let him cauterize your wounds and fix you. Your hands creep up to wrap around the back of his neck, protected by the hood of his sweater as you pull him closer. He’s warm, comfortable.

“I don’t like you apologizing, you look like a kicked puppy.”

“You’re smiling, though.”

“Can’t help it, I’m a skeleton, doll.”

His voice is a giveaway, though, possibly the most upbeat you had heard him despite the quiet and intimate nature of the room. You feel it, the radiating warmth from his other hand creeping down to your thigh, rubbing soft, soothing circles against the fabric that protects your skin from his touch. It would hurt, but a part of you almost welcomes it, wants to feel it.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes focused on the hand that slowly crept higher from your thigh. He’s close, his heat rivaling that at your core. You miss the way his head tilts to the side at your demeanor, hands grasping and releasing the fabric of his hoodie over and over.

Phosphorus said nothing as he continued to wipe some of the blood from your mouth, lingering over your bottom lip while his other hand becomes preoccupied with cupping you over your pajama pants, skeletal fingers pressing in to give you some friction.

That nausea you had felt earlier returns tenfold, punishing yourself for feeling anything remotely good. The situation reminds you far too much of the last time, dipping too far into bliss. It seemed you had only blinked when the body of the lover you had found for the night was strewn across the room, spitting half eaten entrails out of your maw. He guides you to lean back against the mirror, your hand clasping over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he slips below the fabric of your nightwear.

You can feel it again, the hunger that rises to your chest. Your hands shake against your skin now, nailbeds aching with the growing of your talons. A whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. You are selfish, greedy. You’d rather relish in this than warn him, to have one moment that allows you to feel human, to feel wanted and loved.

A sudden burning feeling rips you from your thoughts, your hand had been removed from its post over your mouth and was held in his. Tears well in your eyes at the feeling, the searing pain that washed over your body and forces you to see white. It aches, branding you.

“Shit.” Is all that falls from his mouth, moving his hand away before you needily grasp it once more. Intertwining your fingers, keeping him there. The pain had forced the monster away, talons no longer threatening to protrude from your nailbeds and spine ceasing its contorting. You are lucky, graced with an opportunity to feel something beneath the endless pit in your stomach. To feel him.

“Don’t stop.” Your breathless words are more than enough to encourage his continuation, slotting himself between you legs and pressing the suddenly tight fabric of his sweatpants against you. A soft sigh falling from your lips, head tilted back, hair fluffing up on the mirror as he began to rock against you.

“I wont.” Slow, at first, as if testing the waters to gauge your reaction. Soft whines emitting from somewhere behind the skeletal teeth that were on display for you. Your hand scrunches up his hoodie, dragging his chest closer to you as he began to pick up the pace.

Needy and pathetic, his hips grinding rougher against your pajama pants, the tent in his pants catching on your covered clit; pulling a gasp from you as you arched your back. He focused his movements in that spot, up and then down to elicit soft whines and moans from you. Matching his neediness, having been touched starved for so long.

You’d grown up with depictions of heaven, imaginary white fluffy clouds somewhere high above the Earth. But here, right now, you’re more than convinced this is paradise. Rough fabrics rocking against each other, keeping you grounded on the countertop you sit on, the mirror behind you beginning to fog up with your heavy breathing. Your hands still intertwined, the harsh stinging drowned out at the near bliss you faced.

Hes sloppy now, nearing his finish far faster than you despite your state. Harsh whines fall from him as he grinds against you a few more times before panting and leaning against you. He’s winded for a moment, catching his breath, though the hand not holding yours travels back down to rub against your core.

Hes rough, guiding you to gush around nothing. You can feel your heartbeat below, drumming uncomfortably as you bury your face in the neck of his hoodie. His hand slips below your pajamas once more, continuing to tease your swollen clit and soaked folds as tears pricked at your eyes, squeezing his hand to single for him to stop.

Within a moment, he did. Ceasing the torment though not removing his hand from under your pants. Allowing your juices to pool against the cotton of your underwear before guiding his hand lower, placing his palm flat against your thigh and removing his other hand from yours. It stings, the cleansing fire emitting from him, your hand already burned as he brands your thigh with his handprint.

“Perhaps we should act like this didn’t happen… I’m sure it would make being on a team awkward.”

“I-... Yeah. Agreed. I should, um, head to bed.” Awkward you lift yourself from the counter and fix your pajama pants, slipping off the granite and setting against the cold tile floor. Your feet still hurt, though not nearly as bad as they had hurt before and surely nothing in comparison to the feeling of him against your skin.

He gives little more than a nod as you slink out the door, stumbling down the hall to find your own room and quickly running a hot bath. It would soothe you, make everything better, you deemed. Stripping to allow yourself to sink into the warmth as a sigh falls from your lips, eyes drawn to the handprint marked on your thigh.

You trace the outline with your finger, over and over almost obsessively and silently cursing him for his words. An asshole, you remembered, your least favorite in the little ragtag team. Though, with the way he had whimpered and moaned against you, you were halfway convinced you may be able to fuck the sarcasm and ill wit out of him.

[schoenpepper]

Our Love is God (Heathers the Musical)

Intro: He worships you.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, death, gore, blood, yandere

A/N: Jade jade jade jade my love my baby boy mwahhhh cutie pie. A little different than the other songfics, kinda short.

Masterlist

They made you cry, but that will end tonight

Human blood is a deep, crimson red. It smells like rusted metal…tastes like it too. When Jade brings his hand to his lips, his mind is clouded with thoughts of you. Would you enjoy the taste too? The sensation? His tongue darts out to lick the droplet of maroon, the remnants of your tormentors.

He thinks you would enjoy it as much as he does.

The color stains white roses the most stunning red.

You are the only thing that's right about this broken world

You were saved by them?

You didn’t need saving, darling.

With Ramshackle gone that time, he would have been all too happy to recommend his own room for you to stay in. He’d heard of the saying that royals bleed blue, but that’s simply untrue. Royals bleed the exact same hue. There’s amusement when he rhymes in his mind, humming a happy tune as he exits the premises. It seems the wild animals ought to have better senses, lest they don’t realize when they’re being hunted.

We'll burn it down and then, we'll build the world again

Jade is a lot of things, but he’s no hypocrite. He’d promised himself to kill all those who vied for your attention, after all. All’s fair in love, war, and business.

They called it a love-addled rampage.

But he’s never felt such clarity before. They must be liars.

You are his only truth.

Our love is God

Quick. He needed to make it quick. Unforeseen. If they put up a fight, the other will be desperate to protect—hah. There is no use protecting a corpse.

Morale is down. It’s easier to strike. So he does.

Gold clatters to the ground, caked by dust and organs.

There is the aftertaste of sand and sadness.

You're not alone

The hunter is dangerous. It’s quite lucky he’d gotten rid of him much earlier, lest his pilgrimage end up with unwanted surprises. On the chessboard, the rest of the white pieces are already off the board. The queen remains. A pawn is standing guard.

He makes a move.

The pawn falls.

The queen is unaware of the danger. Another move. There’s not much left to do, cornered on the board. And eventually, it falls too. Anticlimactic, but not quite unexpected. He’d planned for too long for all of his plans to fail at this time.

And when the morning comes

It’s surprisingly easy to dismantle a robot.

Especially one that saw him as no threat.

Technology is very convenient really, cameras fall apart with just one swing of a metal rod. Your friends, there’s just too many of them. Isn’t he so kind, so benevolent, so gracious, for culling the herd? Jade’s the only one you need. Jade is the only one you love.

Jade will be the only one left soon enough.

We'll burn away that tear, and raise our city here

At a critical juncture, it all falls apart. In any case, he’d never expected to take on one of the most powerful mages in the world and win. He’s shackled and bound while they assess how far the damages of his love had gone. They say it’s gone too far, but he believes he hasn’t gone nearly far enough yet. No. You deserve more, don’t you?

You plead with your friend to give you some space. You want to talk to Jade? Alone?

Even now, you’re just the sweetest.

You chose to be left alone in a room with a chained predator.

(Are you unaware the predator can still bite?)

Our love is God

“Why…why did you kill them all?”

“I did it for you, my love.”

You’re looking at him strangely. He doesn’t like it; he can’t read your expressions, your movements.

We can start and finish wars

They’re turning him in to the authorities. That’s fine.

Even far away, locked in a cell, he will always think of you. Dream of you.

You are the parasite implanted into his brain, a creature that ate up his internal organs and replaced them all with images of yourself. You are an alien, one that chose to burrow itself into him and turn his blood into nothing but pure desire for you and everything that you represent.

We're what killed the dinosaurs

You visit him in the dead of night.

How did he never know you could pick locks?

The fae were careless, the door wasn’t enchanted by any sort of magic. You came back to his side, why? Do you despise him, detest him, for murdering all the people you hold dear in blood as cold as the ice floes in his home? Don’t look at him with hatred.

Don’t get too close.

(The predator has always had its sights set on you.)

We're the asteroid that's overdue

“Jade…”

He could think of so many things you could say to him.

Each and every one would be like knives digging themselves into his flesh. Darling, do be gentle with him, would you? He’s only bled because of his love for you. It’s a hideous thing that he keeps alive, just for you. Don’t deny him.

The new world needed room for me and you

“Can you run?”

That is…certainly not what he expected you to say.

“Not with these cuffs, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, right. Turn around.”

I worship you

You would set him free?

Maybe you’re just as crazy as he is.

Deft fingers work with a bent hair pin to unlock the chains. He’s really lucky he wasn’t restrained by magic, you would have had no way of undoing those.

I'd trade my life for yours

You give him back his magic pen and pull him to run back to the Hall of Mirrors.

Our love is God

He relishes the feeling of your hand in his.

Our love is God

“Not that I don’t enjoy the midnight rendezvous, but where exactly are we going?”

“Home. Where you’re not wanted by the mage police.”

“And how do we get there?”

“Like how I got here. The Dark Mirror.”

Our love is God

Have you always known how to return to your old world…?

Our love is God

Green lightning strikes in the distance. The two of you are running out of time.

We can start and finish wars

As marvelous as dying with you would be, he enjoys the thought of escaping with you more. He can still run, but you’re beginning to lag behind. He scoops you up into his arms and keeps running.

We're what killed the dinosaurs

The hall is close. He can see its vague silhouette in the distance.

We're the asteroid that's overdue

In a puff of green smoke, you’re taken from him.

They'll die because we say they must

They think he’d kidnapped you. He doesn’t speak up to clarify the misunderstanding. It would be better for you to be the victim.

I worship you

You struggle and jump with him into the mirror anyway.

I'd trade my life for yours

He watches as you break the mirror with the closest thing you can throw at it. 

“I…I got you back. Here. I didn’t think…” you break out into a sudden laugh, and he’s frozen in place when you wrap your arms around him. Is this a cause worthy of celebration? He doesn’t quite understand. But you’re in his embrace and he would be damned if he let you go.

We'll make them disappear

“This is your house?”

“Mmh, it’s just me. It’s fine though. With you here, I won’t be lonely anymore.”

We'll plant our garden here

The first night, he woke up next to you and found a nearby mirror shining with green light. He tossed a sheet over it and broke it when daylight came, telling you it needed to be replaced.

You never questioned his words.

Our love is God

He fits right in this magicless world. There is no competition here. No one is worthy of your gaze. It calms him down.

Our love is God

The next time a mirror glows, he breaks it immediately.

Our love is God

The souls are still haunting him.

Our love is God

The faes are still looking for a way to him.

Our love is God

All of it fades when he’s right next to you.

Our love is God

There is nothing Jade won’t do to love you.

[arlemoon]

venus, planet of love, has one moon.

contains: established relationships, implied character death, implied murder, bittersweet endings, angst.

arlecchino’s mind could be equated as a pond. within it contained a diverse body of aquatic creatures festering about. these could be called both her memories and emotions. some lived by feasting upon the seagrass and algae, creating harmonious and symbiotic relationships with those it coexisted with. others, the more ravenous ones, persisted through much more barbaric means akin to invasive creatures. without natural predators, they’re destined to overwhelm the rest of the pond like conquistadors.

it is a cherished skill to be able to create those said predators. or, perhaps, is it but a mere pitiable circumstance in which the mind has forced itself to find ways to cope with trauma? whatever the case was, arlecchino is no novice at containing her invasive creatures, though a hefty sum of her ability to do so was attributable to none other than the one she called her lover. her darling, darling lover.

ironically, the one that nearly sent the effectiveness of all of arlecchino’s developed coping mechanisms down the drain.

it was all too characteristic of life and fate itself that things would twist and turn into such a grotesque ending. what was even more grotesque was how bright the moon reflected against the ocean’s still currents. what was more grotesque was how nothing else seemed amiss in the world. the cliff wasn’t crumbling, the forest wasn’t wilted, and the crickets still played their otherwise comforting melodies as if arlecchino’s mental anguish meant nothing.

what was most grotesque of all was the disgustingly content and gentle smile decorating your face. the face that arlecchino couldn’t bear sparing more than a glance at lest she let anger or sorrow consume her.

she of all people stressed to her children that anger causes impulsivity, and that sorrow causes wavering, and she was an avid practitioner of what she preached. arlecchino tries not to give in and break the silence, but she can’t stop the small utter of your name, weak and defeated.

your response is adeptly timed—elegant and poise as always, she takes note of.

“never in my life could i fathom the idea of hearing my name slip from your tongue with such vulnerability lacing it, my dearest, arlecchino. does this gentle breeze not quell your heart?” you reply, said gentle breeze nearly drowning out the quiet whisper of your voice without exertion. thankfully, arlecchino’s unknowingly trained herself to cling onto every word you say like it was gospel or words of the divine.

her throat is too parched to reply, and it’s as if her pyro vision has snaked its way up to her throat and burnt it up until it shriveled like a plant. still, these moments with you are too precious to let her own mind stop her from talking with you.

“you are such a foolish lover of mine. you of all must know that something as minute as a gust of wind could never hope to pacify something as immense as my unrest,” she slowly starts, finally bringing her gaze onto you for longer than a short glimpse. it was shattering to see how full of life you appeared—flushed skin, hair that was tamed and very clearly tended to.. it all served as a stark juxtaposition to what schemed within your very being and soul.

“we both are foolish lovers, then,” you reply, no beats missed. “the two of us both made mistakes. yours, falling in love with me, and mine, being born.”

arlecchino uncharacteristically bristles at that.

“do not say such ill words about yourself. in fact, do not call what has happened in the past a mistake. mistakes are something to be regretted, and i do not regret and have not once regretted falling in love with you,” she sternly replies, and you have to refrain from letting your slight amusement show.

“pardon my insensitivity, my love. i forget you’d scold anyone who talked ill of me, myself included.”

“you particularly, actually. you mustn’t forget.”

“hm? that wounds me, my love.”

a few seconds may not have summed up to much, but those few seconds of lighthearted banter were heaven itself to arlecchino. after all, small moments like these rarely came. after all, small moments like these would never occur again at all. after all, to arlecchino, these last moments were all she had.

because arlecchino was fair.

she always looked at the grander design—the big picture, and in this case, it was the world at stake. all seven regions were at risk because of this one predicament: you. more specifically, the tumor that grew within your soul, leeching onto your energy until it grew big enough to leave your vessel and infect the world with its curse.

contrary to what some people may assume, arlecchino did not want the world to burn. arlecchino was no villain or antagonist, but she was no saint either. she was somewhere in limbo—an anti-hero of the sort. she wished not for the world to crumble, but rather for it to simply exist.

though, in no foreseeable future could her desires align with you keeping your life.

“arlecchino, my dear? i worry when you fall silent. i cannot help but wonder what goes on inside that mind of yours,” you start, a bittersweet smile coming to your face once more when you hear the sound of materializing metal.

“oh, my love.. how i will always forgive you.”

venus, planet of love, had one moon.

© arlemoon 2024. plagiarize at your own will, but i will be very sad to find any of my uncredited work elsewhere. thank you.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 28: Size Difference with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Pairing: Simone "Ghost" Riley X Fem!Reader Word Count: 1436 Warnings: Size kink, Body worship, Oral (F Receiving), Fingering (F Receiving), Soft!Simon, Squirting, Chair sex (Does this count as chair sex if there's no P in V? I'm gonna say yes), Pet names.

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

Simon can’t help but stare.

You’re not even doing anything out the ordinary, nothing odd or even unique.

Seated in his recliner in a little ball, knees curled under yourself, in one of his t-shirts and your comfortable panties, simple white cotton, with a book in one hand and a mug of tea in the other.

The thing that has his staring is that fact that you’re swimming in that chair and shirt because they’re so massive compared to you.

And it makes something in his chest preen and makes something low in his belly feral.

The knowledge that he can throw you over his shoulder without even breaking a sweat? It makes him want to scream with how much it turns him on.

And the fact that you feed into it without knowing, or he’s pretty sure you’re not aware, is one of the best parts to him.

You’re just being you, and it’s all he needs in life.

As if sensing his gaze on you, your eyes flick up to look at him, head still tilted down toward your book, causing your gaze to come through your lashes.

“Si? You okay?” Your sweet voice drifted to his ears and had him feeling like one of those old cartoon characters that float toward their lover on a cloud of hearts as he approached you.

“I’m fine, Love.” He answered as he came to crouch next to you, putting him lower than you where you sat.

Your book was closed in an instant, and the mug discarded to the side. “You sure? You’re being awful stare-y.” You teased lightly, the kind of teasing that’s meant to gauge mood, lest something be wrong and he’s too scared to admit to it yet.

God, he loves how you show your love.

Sitting forward a bit, your soft hand brushed through his blond locks as it came to hold his cheek, the smallest bit of stubble scratching your palm, no need to hold to regs when on leave, and you loved it when he got scruffy.

Leaning into the soft touch, Simon eyes held your gaze. “Just wondering what a bastard like me could have possibly done to deserve an angel like you…” He whispered into the small space between you.

You let out a sigh as your brows furrowed slightly. He knew you hated it when he talked about himself like that, but also understood where it came from. “Simon…” You started like you always did, like you were going to scold him for his negative self-talk.

“It’s not that, not this time.” He said, stopping you in your tracks. “Even the best man doesn’t deserve you.” He continued, watching your face flush a little. “Can I show you?”

“Show me?” You questioned.

“How much I love you…” He clarified, brown eyes flickering between your own and your lips, which were pulling up into a smile.

Rather than speak, you nodded and leaned in, meeting him halfway in a sweet kiss that turned heated so fast it made your head spin.

His massive hands slipped under you to pull your legs forward, so he could settle on his knees between them, where they moved up to your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as they slid up and down.

Your own finger threaded through his hair before settling at the space where the back of his neck met his head, holding him to you as you nipped at his lower lip, a polite request for more than just lips in your kisses.

And Christ above, who was he to deny you anything?

His lips parted, tongue meeting yours in a dance that pulled a pleased sigh from you.

Your bum scooted closer to the edge of the chair, and he met the movement, pressing his body to yours, his belly right up against the apex of your thighs, allowing you to roll them against the solid plains of his body unconsciously.

His own desire for you pulled his lips from yours to kiss down your neck, the temptation to leave marks was loud, but he resisted, this time he wanted to be soft, not claiming.

The little sounds you made had his cock jumping in his sweatpants, craving to hear more, more, more of those sweet sounds.

As his worked his way down, he bypassed what he knew was under his shirt, instead his hands slipped under the material to your hips to carefully slip your panties down your legs, tossing them aside like they’d offended him, which got that beautiful bell-like laugh from you.

That laugh morphed in his ears into a soft moan as his touch shifted to the space between your beautiful legs, thumb tentatively finding your clit, not wanting to overwhelm you too quickly.

He was already going from zero to a hundred, no reason to rush your body to catch up to his.

“Simon…” You breathed against his lips, eyes having drifted close long ago, body leaning into his touch like you needed it to survive.

“I got ya, Dove.” He murmured back, his own eyes watching your expressions, half for any signs of discomfort and half just because he loved to watch your pleasure displayed there.

One of your hands left his neck to try and drift lower, but his free hand caught your wrist, pressing his lips to your pulse point. “Don’t worry about me. This is about you.” He said before returning it to where it had previously been.

You pouted but he was quick to kiss the expression from your lips. “Next time.” He promised.

“Next time.” You confirmed, asserting that you’d hold him to that.

And knowing you, it would be when he was doing something equally mundane as how he’s found you.

Returning to the task at hand, his calloused fingers ran up and down your quickly dampening slit, then he guided you to lay back in the chair a bit, pushing his shirt up your tummy to press his lips to the soft part of your belly, then another a little lower.

The muscles in your belly twitched in anticipation but then he jumped down to press his lips to your inner thigh, then another to the crease of your hip.

Even he could admit he was teasing you, so when you let out a slightly frustrated sigh he chuckled and gave in, pressing his lips to your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking out to make a little circle around the pretty bud.

Your body reacted immediately, trying to seek more, but his hold on your hips kept you in place as he ran his tongue up the whole length of your pussy, dipping into your hole for only a moment before returning to your clit to lightly suck, earning him a squeal and a tug at his hair.

But he didn’t budge, instead his fingers returned, but this time rather than circle your clit with his thumb, he pressed one into your cunt while his tongue worked your bud until he felt like you could take a second finger.

That was when he zeroed in on your G-spot with curling digits, smirking when you once more tried to buck up into his touch, but his superior strength once more won out, keeping you right where he wanted you.

Soon enough he felt your legs begin to shake, pussy twitching and flexing with your impending orgasm, and he was relentless, intent to see you come apart on his fingers and mouth.

And come apart you did.

With a broken cry of his name, your body clenched down on his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you.

Normally he would stop there, let you come down a little before you kept going, but this time he decided to try something new.

Continuing to bully your G-spot and clit, he watched as a second more intense orgasm built and crashed over you, soaking his fingers, face, and the chair under you.

He nearly came in his pants like a teenager at the sight, and it was all the proof he needed that you had to be an angel because that was damn near a religious experience.

Finally letting up on you, he ran his hands up and down your body as you panted, soothing you softly.

“I…Didn’t know…I could do that…” You managed as your eyes managed to open.

Before you could think any further, he had you in his arms, standing with his hands under your ass as he carried you toward the bedroom. “Then let’s see if you can do it again.”

[ghulehcirice]

Lavender Fog Part 2

[Phantom Ghoul X Reader]

[A/N]; Hey Babes! Thank you for all the love on part one I really wasn’t expecting it all I want this to be as amazing as good as I can make it but let’s go over a few reminders!

TW/CW list; the ghouls are described more in-depth as pack like creatures and are displayed as doing things such as nesting and scenting, as well as purring, there will be talk of harassment and bullying not done by any of our main characters, foul language such as whore, slut and other unsavoury words will be used for reader! Please remember you are none of those things! This fic will incorporate the Possessive!Phantom elements I was aiming for last chapter! Some siblings of sin shit talking the ghouls and calling them inhuman, demons etc.

THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE MASKS AND I DO NOT WANT THEN TO BE DRAGGED INTO THIS.

I am all for respecting people and ideas. My philosophy with this is that the band was originally established to be completely anonymous I will keep that with everyone. Which does include the ghouls and papas.

On a more silly note I want to include Copia more and I am an autistic and trans Copia truther and he will probably resemble my own expirences!

With that being said I will add any tws that are needed so let’s get started.

Apparently this connection you both shared was a rarity between humans and ghouls, you knew ghouls often get attached to people, thinking back to all the videos you have seen of Omega and Papa Terzo. But it’s not often that that bond happens between a newly summoned ghoul and a regular sibling of sin.

The past few days had been a whirlwind of organizing with you, Copia and Sister Imperator. Quickly you’ve come to learn you can’t spend a whole lot of time away from phantom, Lest you want a ghoul fussing over wheter you’ve eaten, if you’ve been hurt, etc. you had to move into the ghouls den with him, not that you really cared, they have their own kitchens and everything. That’s not even starting on just how comfortable ghoul nests are. That reminds you to swap some of the clothes you had given him to build his nest with so you had clean clothes.

Your past few days had consisted of alot of this, swapping clothes from the nest, getting moved into the den, figuring out what you’re going to do in the clergy now because you can’t do a whole lot with your puppy of a boyfriend (is that what you two are? Cirrus called it being mates but also said it’s not a title to be taken lightly.) It has also been a lot of getting to know Papa on a more personal level as he helped you learn about ghouls. Quickly you’ve come to learn Papas not very different from anyone else in this Abbey. He had a very big love of his rats VERY BIG. This man really loves rats, outside of his papal makeup he struggles with things anyone else does, eye contact, talking, confidence. Can I just emphasize how much this man loves rats and rodent like animals? Same with those old really shity 8 but games. If you asked me last week how big a rodents test were I WOULD NOT have guessed that they do not stop growing. The fact Copia had stuttered out when you first met was going straight into your little box of horrors. Right next to the fucking talking plant from that show.

On days you spend in the papal library, you would often be coddled near to loving suffocation from Phantom. Smell is a large thing for ghouls, so you usually have to spend anywhere between an hour and a half all the way through 4 hours cuddling with a ghoul so you’re properly scented. And no, you can’t move unless it’s absolutely necessary even then you get trailed to and from whatever the important thing was. Once you both are settled further, you need to have a talk about space and boundaries. You know he’s been trying his best to learn between everything. On the nights you spend in eachothers arms he tells you about some ghoul customs, although you can’t hear a whole lot over the… purring? Apparently ghouls do in fact purr when they’re happy and you were not hearing things. Had to have Copia help you realize that one. But he told you about something, the name was in infernal tounge, which is apparently the native tounge in the pit. But it seemed similar to promise rings.

From your understanding, ghouls who were mating would forge a ring of this extremely tough material that’s found in the pit, it’s hard to find and even harder to meld into shape. He told you that if you could find that material and mold it perfectly to fit the chosen partner and return it then you were fated to be together. In turn you told phantom about your newly acquired fact and in turn would tell him about human courting and dating culture, like how in most cultures people also exchange rings, and get their love officiated in often times extravagant ceremonies. And you promised him one day you’d take him on a human date, once he properly learned how to glamour.

It was hard at first, learning how to balance phantom with your learning and the tasks you had quickly picked up around the den. It would turn out most siblings of sin arent brave enough to come down here to do their chores. So you were the go to for any task that had to be done by a human granted you could be pulled from phantoms death grasp long enough to accomplish anything of course leading to more phantom cuddles and scenting. The more you let it happen the nicer it became you had to admit it was pretty nice to have someone caring about you so much that they wanted to coddle you.

But on your next escapade from the ghouls den you quickly learned that ghouls can also have a protective streak. This was abit of a later trip then you would usually be on, if you had to take a guess Terzo might’ve gotten his dick stuck in the eyehole of a ghouls mask… again. Wasn’t your job to question though. On your route to Copias quarters you were cornered by some siblings of sin. They caught you in the old corridors, which was very strange because no one was supposed to have access to this place.

“Can I help you folks?” You muttered out with the confusion clearly lacing your words. The siblings snickered at you cruelly jeering like hyenas when you tried to duck around them only to be stepped infront of by one of them.

“Arent you the ghoul fucker?” The tallest of the flock sneers, confused you step back only to hit the wall “I’m sorry the what?” The siblings just laugh at your confusion, looking to and from one another and oogling you like a circus freak.

“You’re fucking that new ghoul aren’t you? The one that’s replacing the Aether ghoul?” They repeat, watching you with the eyes of a hawk. The two on either side of her chuckle and close in on you, forcing you to curl closer into yourself. Out of the corner of your eye you could’ve sworn you could see a flash of weirdly coloured fog, though it’s probably nothing.

“Im not ‘fucking’ anyone. Why would you ask such a thing?”

“Everyone always knew you were a whore, are you trying to get into papas pants through his ghouls? Or are you just a slut like that? You know none of the ghouls would even care about you right? They’re monsters! They can’t feel any real human emotions, you’re delusional if you think any of them care about you. It will dump you out once it finds something better to have at.”

You flinched away at the siblings cruel words. They didn’t know anything about your bond with phantom and the others. You knew they were nothing like these siblings of sin said. Taking a deep breath, you recentred yourself and just stare at the group. Using all the i don’t give a shit energy you’ve picked up from Mountain to deter them.

They didn’t seem to like this very much because they started stepping closer and closer, if you’re being honest you felt like the nerd kid in any 90s high school setting getting their lunch money taken by the bully jocks. Before they could pick you up by your feet and shake all the coins from your pocket like a rag doll and give you a swirlie in the school toilet, the smallest of the group was shot to the floor in a heap of black, white, and.. lavender? Oh shit.

Phantom must have come to find you, or one of the ghouls seen the sibling bothering you and went to tell your mate. Before you could wrack your brain you were torn away by the scream of the other two siblings who were backing away from the scene. Within an instant papa was out of his quarters, clearly having just woken up given the disheveled look he was in, only having on his Mickey Mouse pyjama pants and being bare chested on top. Wait, does papa have top surgery scars? Oh cool. You could tell papa was a little fruity, now you knew why. Quickly you and Copia worked together to get phantom away from the sibling who didn’t seem to be hurt, looked to be a few cuts from phantoms claws.. he has claws?? The sibling probably had a few bumps and bruises from the fall too.

Papa took the three siblings after you abashedly gave him the file you were supposed to, leaving you to calm down Phantom, Now that everything was calmed down, you quickly realized Phantom didn’t have his mask on which was a surprise because on one hand, the ghouls aren’t supposed to have their masks off anywhere average siblings could see them and two, Phantom hasn’t taken off his mask around you yet, when you two first met he had an old Era 3 mask on. He told you he wasn’t the most comfortable with his face, telling you that he had gotten pretty beaten up during his summoning, and that he had birthmarks he didn’t like. You couldn’t see why, he has Lichtenberg scar righ down his left eye and moving down and across the bridge of his nose the eye it when through was a lighter shade of purple then his right, you found him beautiful but he really didn’t like it, you’re probably gonna have to give him a lot of cuddles tonight.

Once everyone was away from the scene, Phantom stared into your face, breathing heavy. It felt as though everything fell silent and still. Until Phantom ran at you, and picked you up into a bridal carry, without speaking her took you back to the den. When you arrived in the lounge the other ghouls all watched you, with Cirrus and Aurora coming up to check on you. Phantom held you away possessively from the woman, He ignored everyone and took you to your shared room.

You were definitely right about having to give him extra cuddles that night. When he laid you down and got into bed, before dragging you onto his chest and taking your face in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently handling your face as he looked it over for scars, in turn you grab his face and kiss his own scars, using your spare hand to guide his hand to feel your heart beat.

“I should be asking you that, bug. You didn’t have to fight them for me. They’re just jealous.” He growls at the mention of the incident, gently nibbling at your hand that held his face. He doesn’t reply but gently shifts you from his chest and goes to his chest of draws, he rustles around and grabs an short for you and puts it on the bed for you before grabbing his own clothes

“I’d be a bad mate if I didn’t.” He leaves to get changed and you get into the shirt, and gently re arrange the nest to be comfortable for a good nap. You can hear Cirrus checking up on phantom and the muttering of Their conversation. Once phantom is back, you curl into his side as phantom purrs and hums the tune of Little Sunshine.

Deep down you think you’ll be just fine with your mate.

—————————————————————————

[A/N; WE DID IT! I hit major writers block with this, I wanna thank you all for the love on Part one, and especially @pinklunarprincess for supporting my posts thus far, you were the first person (from my memory) to encourage me with part one and I thank you! I hope you guys enjoy, I’m too exhausted to beta read right now so if I missed anything PLEASE let me know, I’m working on another little fic idea I’ve had so hopefully something will be out soon<3 love you all and thank you

[tempe-brennans]

be still, my foolish heart

authors note: this is probably a little silly but. us too much girlies (gn) have to stick together <3

summary: all your life you've felt like too much. joel never seems to notice.

warnings: reader's love language is physical touch and they like to talk and they prefer fuzzy blankets but nothing else specific is mentioned

You’ve been told you’re too much.

It’s a particular feeling, when those words land–especially from someone you love.

Your head gets a little foggy, mind spins a bit. The wheels begin to turn in your brain, modify your behavior. A wall comes down, cuts you off just a little more from whoever stands in front of you. Lists of things you can no longer do–lest you push this person further away–form.

Rejection. Rejection of some fundamental piece of you.

But, now, you’ve carved out a spot for yourself in Jackson all on your own. And, you’ve kept it that way. No friends, no family, barely an acquaintance–well and truly alone.

By yourself, no one can tell you you’re too touchy, they can’t say you’re dumb, can’t begin to speak the words too much.

It’s better that way. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

If, sometimes, late at night when you’re alone in bed, loneliness curls around your spine like a second skin, that’s nobody’s business but your own.

It's all fine, your life, until the day you meet Joel Miller.

He steps into your store on a particularly good day–which is the first problem.

Watching what you do, what you say, is always harder when you’re excited.

You know of him which is to say you know his name. He walks around Jackson like a ghost too afraid to step fully on the Earth.

You can’t say you blame him.

You also can’t blame yourself for the crush you’d harbored for him.

“Welcome in.” You smile. “Can I help you with anything?”

Joel shakes his head, tight smile on his face.

You nod. “If you change your mind–”

“Actually–” He interrupts you and you can see the moment he kicks himself for it.

Your smile doesn’t fade, all too aware of how it feels to intrude on someone else’s words.

“You were saying?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I’m looking for here.”

“Maybe I can help you figure it out.”

“Ellie–my daughter–she…she wants a blanket–for her birthday, but…” He trails off.

“But?” You prod, trying not to be pushy.

“I’m not exactly Martha Stewart.”

You quirk a brow. “Did she sow?”

Joel tilts his head. “You know, I can’t remember.”

The both of you laugh, and a little thrill runs through you that you had made the stoic Joel Miller laugh.

“I can show you what I have right now. Something might catch your eye.”

He perks up. “You actually have some?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nod. “Got some new ones in the other day.”

You step out from behind the counter, just stopping yourself from running your fingers down his arm as you watch around him.

You hope he didn’t catch the movement.

Your fingers want to thread through his, pull him along behind you, but they don’t.

“These are the quilts,” you gesture to one stack, “and these are the fuzzy ones.” You add, almost under your breath, “My personal favorite.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “The quilts have always felt a little scratchy. The seams…” You shake your head. “Oh! They’re also harder to tuck yourself into–with how stiff they are.”

“That makes sense.”

You turn towards him, eyes alight. “You might like a fuzzy one, too!” You reach out, hand landing on his belly and fingers lightly scratching–an absent-minded expression of affection. “The winter and everything, if it hurts your joints or your aches, having something extra could be nice, you know. Oh! We also have heated throws.”

Joel’s eyes flick downward, glance at your fingers. You pull them away like you’ve been burned.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” He nods, and you almost believe him. “You were sayin’ about heated throws?”

You shake your head. “I should really let you decide for yourself.” You start to step away, go back to the counter and your quiet little life, when Joel’s fingers curl around your wrist.

You feel like a fool–at the first sign of friendship, you'd burst, a jack in the box barely closed.

“Darlin’,” Joel shakes his head, chuckles lightly. “I like listening to you talk. I like your touch.”

“You did?”

“I’ve seen you around, you know.”

Dumbstruck–for once in your life–all you can say is, “You have?”

He nods. “Always seemed like talking to you, being close to you, would be like being near the sun. You seemed warm,” he murmurs. “I could use some of that.”

Because you have to hear it–you’ve always had to have it spelled out–you ask, “Are you saying…what it sounds like you’re saying?”

Joel grins. “I’m saying I like you.” His tongue peeks out, licks his lips, and he looks you in the eye. “I want to spend more time with you. That somethin’ you’d be interested in?”

You want to bite him, suddenly, and the thought makes you smile. “I’d be very interested in that,” you hum.

“Yeah?” Joel smiles, something like shock on his features.

You cross the room, throw your arms around his neck and squeeze. “Yeah.”

Joel Miller had seen what most would call too much, and he had simply wanted more.

That feeling–and the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist–heals something in you that was broken long ago.

[revserrayyu]

Real quick Wardance thoughts [part 2]

**SPOILERS** for everything happening after the final match. Basically some story stuff and a bunch of goodbyes, but it’s mostly just me loving every second the Yaoqing trio is on screen.

Seeing a younger Jing Yuan is precious, but it was made even better hearing Alejandro’s natural voice during this short scene.

I know Igor was mentioned at the very start of this event and was sort of a constant, small side story amongst everything else, but his history and reason for entering the Wardance really was unfortunate from what I remember (which isn’t much.) Shame he’s no longer around. I would’ve definitely tried pulling for him if he ever had the chance to be playable.

While Jarilo-VI is no longer a small, unknown ball of ice floating in space, I was not expecting it to have more visitors so soon. I wonder how the Belobogians reacted to seeing their first foxian. & is it safe to assume that our pilot, who refuses to fly anymore, took the Astral Express here? Because that’s what I’m going to believe. Also, Seele spotted! Huzzah!! (no Serval at all though. I cry. or Clara now that I think about it.)

More allies, let’s goooo! Dang, imagine how awesome it would be to see Belobog experience other seasons aside from a perpetual winter. Or to have the residents able to travel outside the city’s walls, free from any danger. I adore everyone from Belobog so much and I hope they get the chance to live such fulfilling lives. They deserve it!

I have not checked the museum for myself yet, but if this photo is actually displayed there now, then that is so cute. And I know I can’t be alone in thinking this, but because of the striking red hair, Igor must be some sort of ancestor to Luka, yeah? It might be a stretch but they even got similar big grins too.

Alright, enough of my favorite planet and onto my favorite trio. Jiaoqiu sweetie, I treasure those few days so much! I just wish you were spared from all the trauma.

What a way with words. A poet, even. And yes of course I chose the first option. I feel bad pointing out his little slip up, but I wanted to know his reaction even more.

Pfft, the fact they let him talk for so long without mentioning he was facing the wrong way.. I’ll admit it is a bit comical.

Awww honey no! Don’t apologize! If I were them, I’d move myself in front of whatever direction he was facing so he wouldn’t feel bad.

It’s okay, we don’t blame you! At least he says it’s only his eyes that aren’t of any use instead of himself. That’s thinking positively I guess. I’m sure he’s still quite capable in doing many things, even in a kitchen. I mean, the guy had his eyes closed 90% of the time anyway, so surely he can still cook up a decent meal while blind thanks to muscle memory and his expertise. The other two would gladly assist him as well.

How much you wanna bet our Jiaoqiu isn’t going to listen to any doctor’s order because he’s a healer and knows his body better than anyone else? Feixiao & Moze are gonna make certain he heals up properly. But maaann, I wish they showed us Feixiao in the crowd during the final match, if only for a split second.

A perfect trio. One who can’t compete because of rules, another who wouldn’t fight because that’s not his job and the other who shouldn’t, lest he end someone’s life by accident. Pretty fair reasons.

Moze is an absolute mood. I’m not a big fan of chatting either. Quite ironic, given how much I can ramble on about this game and its characters, isn’t it?

Her whole “lacking in worries, regrets and rivals” outlook on life is wonder and I love it but NOW our Lacking General has but ONE REGRET! Aaaah.. honestly, I do too. I regret not pulling Jiaoqiu, but IN MY DEFENSE.. Feixiao was right after him and I needed to save big for her. I also didn’t really have a team suitable for our healer to excel in.. but next time for sure! I’ll bring him home!

Son of a bitch they’re so precious and sweet I wanna scream. It’s a blessing in disguise that this entire goodbye scene wasn’t voiced because if I had to hear all the emotion in their voices for this conversation I would’ve been an even bigger, sobbing mess.

Pfftt, thank you Moze for focusing on the task at hand. We can always count on him to be blunt.

Yeah how about NO. I do not wish to see you guys leave me! I’m holding onto that “for now” with such a tight grip. Y’all better return sooner rather than later, you hear me??

I absolutely took my time taking photos of them. I love ‘em with all my heart and can’t wait to see them more in future arcs.. as long as nothing else bad happens. Surely my devotion shall protect them from any troublesome plot! You hear me, Hoyo? Only wholesome and heartwarming stuff from here on out!

I am kinda bummed Huaiyan turned out to be nothing but a unique looking npc. He might not have been a character I might’ve pulled for if he was playable, but he would’ve definitely had some cool combat animations I’m sure.

I know I’ve said it somewhere before, whether in a post of my own or in comments, but Fu Xuan is probably my least favorite character. I just.. don’t vibe with her at all. I dunno. With that said, I didn’t mind that she was practically absent from these entire last two patches. So yes, I called her sassy, lost and short.

Astral Express parents showing up fashionably late to the party. Ya think a black hole or orbital laser could’ve destroyed Hoolay’s blood moon? We shall never know. I do wonder how their own task with those fossils and Ruan Mei turned out though. That’s something I’m looking forward to hearing more about, especially since Yaoguang mentioned at the end of the 2.5 story that our mad scientist has just boarded the Luofu too.

Huzzah, the end~ Much less serious this time around but at least we’re finally done. I wasn’t a huge fan of the Xianzhou during our initial trip here during the story, but these last two updates were some of my favorites for sure. (and I promise it’s not only because of my Yaoqing trio bias)

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - July 19

In which Seward says no….

Just a heads up: this is where we get into some of Seward’s more ableist language/practices. I’ll try to describe it more than quote from it in those places and I’ll tag this appropriately. I just wanted to give a heads up that this is where it starts to get rough. Please feel free to skip this entry if it’s too much: your mental health is more important. I also made a cut where I start talking about this topic (and yes, it is very soon into the entry).

“We are progressing. My friend has now a whole colony of sparrows, and his flies and spiders are almost obliterated.”

“We”? Who is this “we”?? Are you speaking French? That’s all Renfield! And here Seward goes again with this “my friend” thing. It really makes me uncomfortable when he does that, not least because you can draw a distinct parallel between him and Dracula when he does it (if you want to see more of that, check out @vickyvicarious’s posts about Dracula and Seward: she does amazing analysis about the parallels between them!).

As for Renfield, a COLONY of sparrows??? I can see getting one in and closing the window (yeah, I figured that out), but how did he get all of those? Again, so many questions and if Seward is going to play creepy observing doctor, at least ask some questions about how he opens the window to get more sparrows without letting others out. It’s a valid question!

So, the next part is where we get into ableism — or what I see as such (and we’re only into the third sentence too…). Basically Renfield asks Seward for a favor, but Seward compares him to…a dog. While this isn’t blatantly ableist, I suppose, I still don’t like the way it’s phrased. It’s very dehumanizing. First of all, as a doctor, you are never supposed to talk about your patients that way. Second of all, even if he is “begging” in that way, think about why, Seward. He has to depend on you for everything — he is at your mercy and your whims. If he acts like…that…while asking for something, that is only because you have put him in a demeaning position in the first place!

On to the favor itself:

“‘A kitten, a nice little, sleek playful kitten, that I can play with, and teach, and feed—and feed—and feed!’ I was not unprepared for this request, for I had noticed how his pets went on increasing in size and vivacity, but I did not care that his pretty family of tame sparrows should be wiped out in the same manner as the flies and the spiders; so I said I would see about it, and asked him if he would not rather have a cat than a kitten.”

Says a lot about Seward that he only mildly cares about animal life when we get to the cats. And that he seems to be fine with him having an adult cat, but not an adorable kitten…hm. Also, Renfield is a bit concerning on the “feed feed feed” part but eh, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about! (I’m totally not foreshadowing I don’t know what you’re talking about /s).

“‘Oh, yes, I would like a cat! I only asked for a kitten lest you should refuse me a cat. No one would refuse me a kitten, would they?’ I shook my head, and said that at present I feared it would not be possible, but that I would see about it.”

LOL he’s so right, it would be hard to refuse someone a kitten, I mean just whip out the puppy dog eyes again, right? For real though, I don’t know how to feel about this because I know what Renfield is doing to these animals — and I can’t really condone it. On the other hand, if this were just someone in an asylum who wanted a pet to take care of, why should they be refused? Because of ableist stereotypes? It’s tough because Seward hasn’t refused him up to this point, so he probably assumed he would get to also have a cat. Was it right for Seward to set a boundary at this point (making him feel strung along), or should he have just never let him have any pets in the first place?

I think the problem with Seward is that he doesn’t explain why he can’t have a cat. He just says no. Also, he hasn’t been giving Renfield these animals and insects with good intentions — it’s all been to run an experiment for his own distraction. So yeah, I don’t like what Seward’s doing here or how he just shuts him down. If you’re going to refuse, at least give a valid reason why.

This is where Seward really loses his credibility with me — and is why I put a warning in the first place. Renfield then gives him a fierce look that Seward doesn’t like. Oh, I’m sorry, are people not allowed to be angry you refused them something they wanted??? Then he refers to this look as something verging on a murderous look — uh-oh. It gets worse. Again, I promised not to quote what he says here, and I’m going to stick to that, but let’s just say he thinks that Renfield is dangerous to him and shouldn’t be trusted not to attack him…or worse.

It’s telling that he gets all of that from one look. Where was your rational assessment of him from so long ago, Seward? Is that just out the window because he’s more upset at your refusal to give him a cat? This isn’t surprising, though. I would say most people in Renfield’s position are considered “fine” by society unless they show any kind of emotion at all; then, all of a sudden, they’re “dangerous” and need to be locked away from society for “safety reasons.” This is so harmful on so many levels.

“I shall test him with his present craving and see how it will work out; then I shall know more.”

If Seward was a cat, this is where I’d spray him with water from a spray bottle. Bad Seward, bad!!! Stop using Renfield’s emotions and cravings for your own nefarious purposes. If you want to give him the cat, fine. If you don’t, don’t. But stop playing with him and dehumanizing him this way. It’s horrible.

Later, Seward goes to visit him and Renfield is (understandably) brooding. He again asks for a cat and says his salvation depends upon it (note that for later, by the way). Seward again tells him no and Renfield goes back to his corner, gnawing on his fingers. The gnawing on the fingers reminds me very much of stimming (for the uninformed, stimming is a repetitive action, often used by neurodivergent individuals, to gather focus or gain emotional regulation. Examples include chewing fingernails, playing with a fidget toy, bouncing your leg, etc.) and I can’t help but see him trying to calm himself down a bit here. I think it’s rather cruel of Seward to give Renfield false hope by visiting him and then still saying no. :(

“I shall see him in the morning early.”

Why, so you can continue to get his hopes up? UGH, hate this!!

I know I’m really hard on Seward in this one, but I think it’s deserved. He’s being cruel to Renfield and I hate it. Very unsatisfying entry, unfortunately.

[kiirotoao]

Guys.

I think I cracked the case to why many people (namely the GA) don’t like Mike. And it’s because his character arc is external, rarely internal, compared to other characters.

In season 1, one of the most memorable things to me that stood out about Mike was his ability to communicate. He was straightforward, very level-headed, and tried to reason with the unknown. He made his thoughts known, and they were often pretty understandable to those around him, namely Lucas, Dustin, and especially El. His ability to advocate for her really helped bridge the gaps between their world and the Upside Down. Even in just the really small details, Mike prioritized good communication, like when he told/reminded Lucas to end on the Walkie-Talkie with “over” when he was done talking. Mike is also incredibly emotional this season, and we see clearly times of his frustration, sadness, and joy (all of which are very often due to Will, but I will hold off on going in depth in that department lest I ramble about Byler more than I already do). All of this to say - Mike’s focus is on 1) keeping that group mentality, 2) helping El, and 3) finding Will, all things outside of himself.

Then, right off the bat, what’s the problem that Mike faces in season 2? Lack of communication with El. He doesn’t know where she is and he can’t - and arguably doesn’t ever - see her, not even in the void. I can imagine that it’s tough not knowing if a loved one is even alive, so of course Mike is stricken with worry until he sees her again. I think that in season 2, right from the start, we see his mental health take a toll on him as he starts to worry about things going wrong with d’Art, with Max, with Will, with the tunnels, everything. I just think that from a general standpoint, Mike has become more irritable and anxious because he’s lost someone before. And here’s where his attachment to El starts to get much stronger. When he finally sees her again, he’s already scared that he’s about to lose her as she goes off to the gate. All season long, he’s attached at the hip to Will, frustrated about not being able to see El, and generally pretty easily upset by others. All things that I think are a result of internal struggle, but we only see it manifest outwardly. He does get that shed scene moment with Will, but honestly, that’s about it when it comes to Mike’s transparency that season.

Now enter season 3. The conflict right from the start with El is… painful, to say the least. He lies to her, doesn’t try to explain himself until it’s been far too long, and he even calls on Lucas to defend his bs. He’s hiding something, and it’s no longer grief-related. Maybe it is, but we don’t see it. Mike continues to work with the group mentality and he comes up with the sauna test, assumes the worst with the Mind Flayer (and is correct about the spreading of its power), and kinda a throwaway detail, but I can even assume that it was his idea to push the car over using the metal posts in the last episode based on that random comment, “Told you. Physics.” So here’s where things get interesting. Mike is smart, he still is, and he still uses a lot of good communication and strives to connect gaps where they’re needed, and he still often wields the Walkie-Talkie. But when it comes to his relationship with El, Will, too, he falters. Before this season, he was completely in line with the two. But now, in season 3, we never see a clear reason why he thinks what he’s thinking, especially considering the sloth/speed in which he reconnects with El/Will. It is impossible to pinpoint any direct emotional moments from Mike this season because besides the ending scene overlayed over Hopper’s letter, we never truly see Mike let down his guard like he did before. Nor take the leap, like he did in season 1. He’s closed off and we cannot fully see why, not until you begin to interpret down to a deeper, inferential level. Here’s where I think the roadblock especially begins for Mike’s character, because we don’t know what he’s thinking anymore.

Carry this into season 4. Mike seems completely closed off to us, the audience. Now’s a good time for me to say that Finn’s a great actor, though, because truly, we get to see a large array of emotions in Mike’s expressions. And by all means of art and creative media, we don’t necessarily need to hear Mike’s thoughts to know his thoughts, sometimes. But it still goes to show, based on how he behaved in prior seasons, his connection with others and his drive seems completely lacking. He’s falling behind in school, he seems so emotionally distant from El, and, come to think about it, he’s emotionally distant overall. Even with his family and Lucas. I think that a simple explanation to why he’s acting this way is because he’s forced to grow up and grow up apart from his girlfriend and best friend. He’s not happy. And seeing that manifest externally often causes the isolation of internal things. Think about Max’s story but in Mike’s shoes - except we don’t get to see Mike’s struggles. His one emotional outlier is with Will, however, who he openly expresses his thoughts to and even finds a chance to smile again with. And even though he’s largely not in Hawkins anymore, we still see him use his ingenuity. He figures out the Nina number. He knows where Suzie lives. He can hone in when he’s needed. But even then, no matter what he does, he’s unmistakably hampered. He can’t keep up communication when he’s separated from Hawkins. He’s separated from El. Once again, he’s miserable. His one constant is Will, but even then, he buys the lie in the van scene. So, in the words of Finn Wolfhard himself,

(Caption: “He’s just such an idiot.”) I really think that Mike is trying his best. But ever since the start of season 3, so, essentially, half of the time we’ve seen him onscreen, he’s been closing himself off to the audience. And he might just be an idiot, but that doesn’t translate to how he thinks under pressure. Emotionally, perhaps, he’s an idiot. But is he a total idiot? I don’t think so. His seeming idiocy simply comes out so strongly in the later seasons because we cannot draw reason to his behavior like we could before.

Compare this to Lucas who has several dear moments where he opens up to Max season to season. Compare this to Dustin, who doesn’t ever really hide his thoughts. Compare this to Will, whose life we’ve seen the ups and downs all the time. Compare this to Max and her beautiful arc from introduction to depression. Compare this to El and her entire story of finding who she is. Hell, compare this to Steve, who has several glimpses of his life and struggles season to season. Compare this to Robin’s coming out and her struggle with Vickie. Compare this to Jonathan and his talks with Nancy and Argyle. Compare this to Nancy and the constant dilemmas of love and respect. I could go on and on. The characters are written with an emotional story in mind. So if Mike is one of them, who’s to say that his struggle isn’t something to be revealed for season 5?

And now, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t bring this all home with Will. Who has been a consistent source of emotional vulnerability for Mike? Who does Mike let his guard down around? Who does Mike consistently pursue and amend any wrongs with near as soon as possible? Who considers Mike to be the heart? If we’re gonna complain about Mike being closed off or annoying, I get it. I want to see more of his thoughts, too. And the remedy? It’s none other than the one right beside him. The one person who’s never going to give up on him. I think that the only answer to melt that heart is Will Byers.

(So yeah. I can’t wait for Byler to be endgame and for all this discourse about Mike’s true character to end because of it ☺️)

[messiahzzz]

Not sure who made you Gale's Sole Interpretor, but could you fucking chill with CALLING PEOPLE ABUSERS over what smut they write with him? -.- Thanks.

it genuinely took me a while to figure out what you could possibly be referring to, since i didn’t talk about smut fanfiction & abuse anywhere on my socials. i presume it’s this post, yes?

gale’s sexual preferences & kinks

which i started off with:

note: this is merely my read on gale’s sexual preferences/kinks. i don’t want to police anyone on their headcanons or claim they are “incorrect”. since the game doesn’t provide too much detail, many things remain up to interpretation. (and lest we forget fanfiction has always encouraged the exploration of dynamics that may not be present in canon.)

this is the part of my post that addressed dubcon within the game’s writing, not fanfiction:

gale is also not a voyeur, nor a cuck. the entire scene with the drow twins leans way too much into dub-con territory for my tastes. the only way you can get him to participate at all is by rolling a persuasion check with DC 25. in every other dialogue option, he immediately (and explicitly) declines. even if you do manage to pass the persuasion check, he is still very hesitant about participating.

here i talked about the parallels to common abuser rhetoric (i.e. “you just have to try it, you might be into it” after already being told no.):

i am aware that fandom uses the fact that his “orb lit up in telltale excitement” as a justification that persuading him was the right choice, as well as confirmation that he was secretly into it and “just needed a little push" to explore his desires/get out of his comfort zone. that implication alone is very suspect and goes straight into the sort of logic abusers often use. you can be physically aroused by certain scenes, images, or sounds, even while being visibly uncomfortable with the presented scenario. it is a natural response that you can’t often control. which is what he is showing throughout the entire scene: discomfort. he was coerced into this situation, without any prior discussion or an opportunity to talk about his boundaries.

in fact, the devnotes (as well as the patch 6 notes) even explicitly stated that gale is very uncomfortable with this entire scenario. this is nothing new:

gale: "ahem. i hope you're not here to ask about our recent, erm, activities. i'd rather those were consigned to the footnotes out of romance, if it's all the same with you." nodecontext: clears throat awkwardly at the start. the first time you've spoken since having a threesome.

improved player attitudes in the dialogue options when gale expresses discomfort at the drow twins' four-way proposal and removed the persuasion roll.

yet again, what i was addressing in said post is the writing within the game and the interpretations of the game canon — this is not about fandom exploring the smut aspect of this scene in fanfiction. i didn't mention anything along those lines once.

how you choose to examine this scene within the confines of your own writing is solely personal/another matter entirely. as long as you practice common courtesy and tag your work with the according trigger warnings so people can avoid your content/they're not exposed to it without their consent: it’s all good.

[nowis-scales]

Hinoka "Birthday" Headcanons

"Birthday" is in quotations here because these are intended to be in celebration of her birthday, but obviously, I am several days late on that. In my defence... I had longtime friends in town the weekend of her birthday, and after that I was working with kids for 40 hours a week, so... I decided we would try to approximately hit her birthday this time. I don't get to see those friends much and kids are so great but so tiring, so I hope you can forgive me lol.

Still, we got here in the end. Now we can do another round of headcanons to celebrate Hinoka!

‣ The most plain speaker among her siblings. She can put on thick layers of etiquette for banquets, but otherwise, she can’t really be bothered. That also means she’s the most likely to curse or use slang among them. It’s always a shock to new recruits in the army the first time they hear her speak so plainly, but it’s not unwelcome. She has broken the ice during more than a few difficult moments, simply by a well-timed, “Well, that fucking sucks.”

‣ Hinoka is like if a border collie was a person in the sense that she has a need to be useful pretty much at all times. If she's not being active and helping others, she gets rather restless. She needs to have a task to keep her going, lest she fall into boredom and start thinking too hard about things she probably shouldn't be thinking about. This has garnered her a bit of a reputation around Shirasagi Castle Town for being an incredibly kind and helpful young lady... and a reputation among her friends and family for being someone to watch for burnout.

‣ Not a morning person. At all. Even if she’s waking up for training, she’s going to be a real grump. Maybe not as much as Jakob, but still — Hinoka is not sunshine and roses in the morning. If anything, she's honestly kind of grumbly. There's not even really a meanness associated with it, she just has the sort of demeanour of someone who genuinely doesn't want to be bothered. If you speak to her, you're likely to only get super curt answers. She may not even acknowledge you at all and just keep going about her day. She wakes up gradually from there, of course, but before a certain hour... just consider talking to her a lost cause.

‣ She fusses over her hair like, way more than she is willing to admit. It's harder to tell because she keeps it short, but she has the same sort of hair texture as her father, so it is an uphill battle every morning to make it lie flat and proper. No matter how carefully she sleeps, she always wakes up with bedhead. Then, she has to make a whole routine of brushing and styling it just so it looks right. Too prim and proper, and she just doesn't look like herself. Too messy and lazy, and it just makes it seem like she doesn't care. It's a delicate balance that she has to achieve with her hair, but she would never admit to anyone just how much time she spends trying to get it right... Although her annoyance with Ryoma's tendency to affectionately ruffle his younger siblings' hair has given people some hints in the past.

‣ Hinoka has a tendency to talk in her sleep. Well, sort of. To be honest, she doesn't have a tendency to talk as much as she does to laugh in her sleep, but that's a bit more disturbing to people who have never heard it before. It's not even an evil laugh, either, just a regular happy fits of giggles here and there. Those who know her better tend to find it comforting instead, because that way, they know that she is having happy dreams. If she's not having a happy dream, though, that's where the talking starts... and considering Hinoka is the kind of person to have those disconnected dreams that don't really follow one central plotline, you can end up hearing her say some weird stuff to deal with the situation. And 9/10, she doesn't remember what she was dreaming about in the morning, so if you wanted to know why she had to steal the magic gyoza back from King Garon, you're out of luck.

‣ Super flexible. The girl is downright acrobatic at times, it’s impressive. She’s super bendy and can twist herself into a pretzel if need be. Most of the time, she uses her powers for good, but sometimes she likes to do something she shouldn’t be able to do just to freak Takumi out. For whatever reason, her powers of flexibility disturb him. So, like any good sibling, she uses them to tease him a bit.

‣ Between Azama and Setsuna as retainers, Hinoka has grown to be quite accepting of people's little quirks. Is she still put off by them sometimes, maybe when she's caught off-guard? Sure. But does she treat them with anywhere near the levity that others might? Not really. Once she's got a hold on something like that, she just kind of tends to roll with the punches. Odin's talking strangely? Well, she can probably figure out what he has to say, it's not that much different from courtier talk. Hayato's all fussed up about being treated like a kid? She'll just do what she used to do for Takumi around then and try and encourage him a little. That being said, however, she doesn't always have an easy time with it... if anyone knows how to handle Camilla's doting and flirty tendencies, she would really appreciate the advice.

‣ Her time spent establishing a bond of trust with her pegasus has had the unintended side effect of most animals naturally trusting her. After all, like regular horses, pegasi are also skittish. It takes a lot of time to create a bond trust with them, and make them feel like you won’t hurt them. Keeping a calm, level head is oftentimes apart of that, and now that Hinoka’s learned the skill for her pegasus, she can apply it to other animals as well. The joke’s a bit in poor taste, but Azama even joked that her ability to deal with nervous creatures is why Sakura feels comfortable talking to her in their shared letters — it’s her way of adapting to her sister’s needs, just like she would for a pegasus.

‣ No matter how she learns and grows over the course of her stories, Hinoka still just can't let herself be beaten by a Nohrian. Initially yes, it is a prejudice thing, but as time goes on, it becomes more about a friendly competitive patriotism. With so much time apart, the two countries haven't had much time to interact with one another and show off the best of each of their respective countries, so she likes to take the opportunity to show off just what a Hoshidan can do. Thankfully, as her intentions purify themselves, so too do those of the Nohrians, and she tends to inspire a spirit of friendly competition as their truce goes on!

‣ Has serious trouble depending on others. She is ferociously independent and often insists upon it, disliking asking for help or being seen failing in any way. Given Hoshido's history with sexism, her position as a warrior, and her place in the public eye... She knows that some will look to her as a perfect representation of all women. If she is to admit defeat or ask for help in front of others, then she is more likely to be perceived as weak. After years of fighting to be where she is, she is far too proud to step back now. As a result, she can tend to push herself too hard, regardless of whether she will actually reap any benefits from doing so.

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Words Spawn Actions

“You have wearied the Lord with your words. Yet you say, In what way have we wearied Him? [You do it when by your actions] you say, Everyone who does evil is good in the sight of the Lord and He delights in them. Or [by asking], Where is the God of justice?” Malachi 2:17AMPC

Are you aware that our words spawn actions? Words are formulated from the thoughts of our hearts. Unfortunately, too often, my words will bypass my mind and exit my mouth. It’s an area I truly struggle in, just as my feelings will show on my face, again thoughts from the heart. Proverbs 23:7NKJV “For as he thinks in his heart, so is he…”

This is one reason Solomon wrote, Proverbs 4:23NLT “Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.”

David knew the way to guard the heart was “Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in Your ways” Psalm 119:37ESV.

Isaiah asked who could dwell with Yahweh. Holy Spirit’s response was “He who walks righteously and speaks uprightly, who despises the gain of oppressions, who shakes his hands, lest they hold a bribe, who stops his ears from hearing of bloodshed and shuts his eyes from looking on evil” Isaiah 33:16ESV. Three actions correspond with our text scripture. Speaking “uprightly,” closing his ear and eye gates to evil. Guarding our hearts is guarding what we allow into our minds through our senses.

Why? Satan knows bombarding the eyes and ears will dull our minds, changing our actions. People become desensitized by seeing evil— hence planned riots, looting, murders, pornography, blatant sex sins and lifestyles. Example: We held a high moral standard in our home. Unmarried couples weren’t permitted to sleep together. Lou’s sister-in-law and boyfriend lived together… how could I not permit them? Fortunately, all the beds were filled, he got top bunk and she the bottom. Later, came others, whom Lou didn’t want to insult by separating them, saying, ‘let God be their Holy Spirit.’ Weren’t we desensitized? Or was I trying to play God?

Preachers, and church members alike talk about how they can’t understand why God is permitting such evil today. Do we turn off evil movies, TV shows, talk shows? Are we approving the evil by our actions and then discussing what we’ve seen?

Everyone is fighting and arguing about abortion. ‘It’s my body, my right to abort.’ Isn’t it the right of the life created to live? The fight is because of fifty years of satan’s indoctrination camps called schools, teaching sex-ed, and the government calling it ‘birth control.’ Surely this is evil. Yet, some churches say it’s okay, even perfectly fine to abort. When believers don’t oppose politicians who favor abortion, their actions say— “evil is good,” while words say, ‘God understands the fetus is better off, than alive with those parents.’

Those same church goers scream out “Where is the justice of God?” because of the pedophilia, child sex trafficking, murders of children, twisted perverted education in the schools. What’s the difference? Because the children were born rather than unborn? They consider Adonai a weakling because He doesn’t prevent what they’ve allowed.

Jesus said, “You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?” Matthew 7:16ESV. It all starts at the ballot box. Don’t say, ‘we can’t vote in corrupt elections.’ Vote paper ballots on election day trusting God. Simply not voting is voting for evil. Voting a party ticket because that’s ‘our party’ has voted in evil people, promoting Communism, crime by defunding police, releasing prisoners, opening borders allowing known violent offenders across without restriction— don’t accuse God for not being unjust. Shut your mouths.

Could our words be identifying us as someone other than a Christ follower? It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Adonai forgive, please, our harsh words and sinful actions, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2024 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

[ask-lily-curo]

America Breaks Up With Britain Modern AU That I Did For APUSH

Words: 0.6k Started: August 25, 2023 Finished: August 28, 2023 Summary: Britain has been incredibly controlling toward America, they decide they've had enough. Based on IRL Britain and America's relationship until just before the American Revolution. A/N: Yall asked for it, here's the break up letter I turned in for an actual assignment. I think I only got one point off because of a small format thing or something but don't worry I got 50 points extra credit for reading it out loud (Note: I had to be dramatic about it for my own sake and poured water into my eyes and started reading/improvising due to the fact I couldn't read my paper very very dramatically). For those wondering, I know almost nothing about Hetalia and would like to keep it that way.

Ok Bri, we need to talk. I legit can’t handle you anymore, you are SO controlling. Ever since you decided we shouldn’t be long distance anymore, you’ve been so jealous of me just interacting with other people. I was gonna hang out with you more anyway, I wasn’t gonna leave you for Spain or something! We were just gonna trade some food and clothes or something, I wouldn’t know because I’m not allowed to see him! And you know how much I love buying such things, I’m doing it for the products not the guy!

And I know you hate France but don’t bring me into your petty squabble! How was I supposed to know my neighbors were besties with him, they pissed me off first and you knew that! When you supported me during my fight with them over which part of our backyard belonged to who, I thought, “Wow, I’m so lucky to have a guy like you” and then you went and told me not to act up again! Are you kidding me?! I’m not a child, so why are you telling me not to even use the land I just earned lest I “disturb my neighbors and get in another fight that you have to clean up.” You didn’t even have to do that!

Not only that, you keep using it as an excuse to leech off my paycheck, MY paycheck. I won’t lie, I knew we started dating so you could get a quick buck off me after you heard Spain get rich from dating my sister, but I thought we had something! Remember when you were visiting and told me all those wonderful ideas you heard from the people in Europe City (yeah I still remember your hometown, bet you don’t even remember my favorite book and even if you did, I’m sure you couldn’t read it), those inspired me! They made me think about myself and reminded me of a memory years ago when we were still long distance and I was chilling at the Burgesses restaurant thinking about you! Now, I can’t have a moment in peace away from you! You come here and insist you’ll do the shopping and then take some extra money as a way to “pay you back” for helping. Taking it when we buy sugar, paper, glass, whatever, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I WORKED TO EARN THAT MONEY?! Then you give me some fancy clothes and furniture as a way to make it up to me, like that’ll make me forgive you for taking up my money and space. I can’t even have privacy in my own house because you barge into my room and search through my stuff because you think finding some gifts I secretly got from France justifies you continuing to survey my every action.

 I really can’t stand anything you give me anymore, I’m making my own dresses and throwing out the ones you give me. I can’t even look at tea anymore despite the many moments we shared a cup together, it reminds me of you too much. I can’t stand looking at the box you gave me anymore so I threw it out. I’m so glad I could get things delivered to the house after you broke my car because of that.

I’ll admit, a part of me still remembers when you helped me back when I was still figuring out how to live and how you protected me from other people. I’ll also admit that I’m a bit scared of your friends, a part of me wants to ignore the signs and just continue on being loyal to you but I don’t know if I can allow myself to just be your lover and never my own person.

Your ex,

U. S. America

[scarletlizzard]

Darling, I’m always picturing you on your knees. Or on your back. Or on all fours. Or stood upright, blindfolded in the middle of a room…I digress.

Mint chocolate chip ‘seems British’. Well, as astounded as I am, I can’t fault your logic when you arrive at the correct conclusion. You are ever so good at this particular ranking, but if you believe that the others are accurate and that you can truly ‘top me with ease’, then be my guest, pet.

I see I see, well that hardly warrants praise, little bow🎀! I could ask any number of people for a totally impertinent hat picture. Of course I found the other two pictures delectable, so you and sweet Rose ought to both be commended for that, hmm?

Hush now, darling, don’t speak whilst the grown-ups are talking. You wouldn’t want our guest to think you’re ill-mannered, would you? Thankfully, you behaved ever so well after I retired to bed, so I’m giving you some grace.

For my esteemed 🎵, I fear this one has my patience wearing painfully thin at times; she has a rather feral effect on me. I’m glad to hear that the knitting has had an endearing effect, rather than a repulsive one, phew. Having said that, don’t think that I missed that grandma, little brat. This old woman can still have you drooling around your own fingers wishing that they were mine, lest we forget.

The terrible waves are far more appealing - I really am a novice, no epic barrelling for me. I suppose it doesn’t hurt that, alongside the waves, your beach also houses a pretty girl in minimal clothing. I’ll play the piano when you play the trumpet, honey.

-🫖

Nobody is reading this, right? That's how this works? I'm going to assume that's how this works!

I'm definitely NOT going to say I'd gladly and willingly be in any of those positions for you.

You naughty little teapot! Yes, digress before you start something 😳

Doesn't it, though? I look at it and just think, 'Wow... the British must really fuck this up.' As for the other ranking... yes? 👀 (not sure what the correct reply is here)

Commended just for posting a hat pic?? Maybe 🎀 will get another after all...

"Our" guest. Hey, is this your blog, little Brit? 🤔 Actually... don't answer that! Nobody answers that, or I'm blocking you. Thin ice people! Nonetheless, I will be keeping my mouth shut. (Not)

(Feral???)

The knitting is cute!! What are we knitting?

(Suddenly, my mouth is actually shut and I don't know what we're talking about 😳)

No epic barreling? I'm shocked! I'm sure that girl is probably a mess reading that right now, poor thing.

Just so everyone knows, I will be breaking out the trumpet soon just for this.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Vicarious (Part 24)

“Do you ever miss it?” Sokka asks. 

Azula tilts her head. “Do I ever miss what?”

“Being able to reach the top shelf.” 

She gives him a good shove. “I sometimes miss when you were afraid to talk to me like that.”  He nudges her back. “What did you do anyways? When you needed to reach the top shelf? I always used to firebend to get up there.” 

Sokka folds his arms across his chest. “I tried to climb the shelves…”

“Ah. So that’s where these came from.” She gestures to her bruised knees. “I assumed that you had misstepped or something of the sort while running through my firebending routine.” She gives the bruises a little poke.

“Stop messing with those.” Sokka mutters. “By the way, I will have you know that I am the most skilled firebender who was never meant to be a firebender.”

“You’re the only nonbender who has become a firebender.” Azula shrugs. “There isn’t much competition.”

“Who knows, maybe there will be one day.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Right. Don’t hold your breath on that one, a lot of things would have to go wrong in the universe for nonbenders to suddenly start bending.”

“Several things had to go wrong in the universe for two people to swap bodies with one another for several months.” Sokka points out.

Azula crosses her arms, huffs, and blows a few stands of hair out of her face. “Well I sure hope that I don’t have to witness the nonbender revolution in my lifetime.”

Sokka chuckles. “I don’t think that you have to worry, you’ve always treated nonbenders with respect. Your best friends…” He cringes at his own thoughtlessness before she has a chance to flinch. “Sorry. He mumbles. For what it’s worth, I think that you and Mai can fix things and if you can win Mai over again, I’m sure that TyLee will be easy to handle.”

“I didn’t realize that you are an optimist.” She replies. “I always pegged you for a realist like myself.”

“I am a realist.” He smiles. “You’re not a bad person, Azula. I wish that you would be as open with other people as you are with me.”

“I’m open with you?”

Sokka laughs. “See, opening up to people comes so naturally to you that you don’t even realize that you’re doing it.”

He enjoys these brief small talks with her. Sometimes she doesn’t say much, these days a lot of their conversations aren’t particularly important. Mostly it is nice to just get to know her. Her favorite food is mochi, her favorite color is blue like her fire, she is tired of seeing red all the time because everything in the Fire Nation is red, her favorite animals aside from dragons are pandas and komodo-rhinos. Admittedly he wrote most of it down, with her birthday on the top, lest he make the mistake of forgetting it like had had done with almost all of his previous partners. 

Azula doesn’t need to write his interests down. She tends to show up with artfully arranged bento boxes full of jerky, chicken, and hippo-cow meats along side some rice and vegetables to make sure that he is getting a more balanced diet than just various types of meat. She admits that she can’t cook but she had been the one to arrange the meal into shapes like sky bison and flying lemurs. Sometimes he will find a sword or a dagger laying on his bed with a little note about its make and history. 

She never says that she loves him but he gets the point. She wouldn’t listen so intensely to his chatter about machines–submarines in particular, architecture, and the history of fishing and hunting in the Southern Water Tribe for hours on end if she didn’t. She wouldn’t wander into his room and read quietly next to him until she falls asleep if she didn’t.

He is more than happy that Katara, Aang, and Zuko have walked in once or twice to check on him only to see that Azula had fallen asleep leaning against him. 

“So, what are your plans for today?” Azula asks. “I was hoping that we could go visit the Smoke River Cafe.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

She furrows her brows. “I believe that you’ve been calling it The Dragon’s Nostrils.”

“I’d love to go. How about tomorrow. Dad and I have our big presentation today!”

“Oh yes, that’s right.” She nods. “When should I be there?”

Sokka grins. “If you want to we can head over there now. I’d like my dad to meet you now that you’re you.”

Azula swallows, he thinks that he catches the slightest flicker of nervousness in her eyes. “Does he know that we’re together?”

“I told him all about you!” 

“Great.” Azula grumbles. “I can’t imagine that he’s thrilled to know that you’re with the person who caused his invasion plan to fall apart.”

“Yeah, he’s not thrilled about that.” Sokka confesses. “But he respects your wit and strategy.” 

.oOo.

That he respects her wit and strategy isn’t nearly enough to untie the knots forming in her stomach. The man probably begrudges her, twice over for deciding to date his son.

“Dad…this is Azula.” Sokka smiles, giving her a little nudge forward. 

Hakoda gives a slight bow. She supposes that it is better than nothing. She clears her throat. “Hello.”

“Sokka tells me that you’ve been helping him with the blueprints.”

“He was under a lot of pressure and I enjoy problem solving. I haven’t worked with blueprints and schematics until recently but it is enriching work. If nothing else, I know what kind of toll pressure can take on someone.”

“Yes, thank you for looking out for my son. I wish that he would tell me when he is feeling overwhelmed.”

“No one wants to disappoint their parents.” Sometimes they do it anyways. 

“He could never disappoint me.” Hakoda assures the both of them. Azula finds her chest constricting. She wishes that her own father would say as much. And maybe she is wearing that too plainly on her face–she needs to be more careful, it has been happening a lot lately–because Hakoda continues, “your father is a difficult man.” 

She can only nod. “He’s still my father.” 

“I know.” Hakoda replies. “It would probably do you some good to hear that you were given many tasks well beyond what was reasonable.”

“Sokka already mentioned something like that.” Sokka who slips an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. She stares up at Hakoda. “Are you upset with him for choosing me over Jin?” She shouldn’t ask things that she doesn’t really want the answers to. Things that will almost inevitably hurt her.

With each second that passes without a reply, her stomach sinks further. He is almost certainly working out a diplomatic way of saying that he doesn’t like her let alone approve of her. Agni, she hadn’t imagined actually wanting approval from him. She barely knows him.

“I was a little surprised.” He says finally. “But I can see why he did.”

“You can?” Her brows knit. 

“There aren’t many people who will let him ramble for a while and sit through all of his terrible puns.”

“Hey! I learned those from you!”

Hakoda chuckles. “I never said that you didn’t.” He turns back to Azula. “You challenge him, he enjoys a good debate.”

“You don’t resent me for everything that happened with Katara?”

“Resent is a strong word.” Hakoda replies. “But I’m not particularly happy about that, surely you understand.” 

Sokka’s grip tightens on her as she mutters a, “perfectly.” Really meeting Hakoda as herself was a lost cause before it even began. But she couldn’t imagine not showing up to support Sokka. She knew that. Somehow it still hurts. 

Hakoda puts a hand on her shoulder and she flinches. He withdraws and he apologizes. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know. It just that…” she trails off. Sometimes she has trouble separating him from her father and she hasn’t even a good reason to have lumped them together in the first place. Other than that they are both fathers. 

“It’s alright.” Hakoda assures her, his voice significantly less hard. She swallows. He seems to look straight into her eyes. And he sees something there. Her breath catches because she sees something in his; recognition. The man massages his face just the way Sokka does when he is stressed or frustrated. “I reminded you of your father, didn’t I?”

“What do you mean?” Azula asks. 

“I know my son and I know that he wasn’t acting like himself. I attributed that to stress.” 

“What are you talking about, dad? Of course I was acting like myself.”

“I know my son and I know that his voice…”

“Raises a pitch or two when he’s nervous or trying to tell a lie?” Azula finishes.

With a shrillness to drive the point home, Sokka shouts, “it does not!”

“How long?” Hakoda asks. 

“Just a few months.” Azula shifts her weight from one leg to the other. “We haven’t figured out how or why, just that it happened and that it ended after we resolved a few of each other’s struggles.” 

Hakoda nods. “Sokka, were you challenging spirits again?”

“I might have had a run in with one or two of them while helping Zuko look for his mom. Who is also Azula’s mom.” He sputters. “I was helping Zuko look for their mom. But I didn’t do anything I don’t think, the spirits were quiet this time.” 

“Well maybe after this speech we can go looking for some answers.”

Azula’s heart sinks. Sure she has been making some progress with the rest of Sokka’s friends but she can’t imagine that they’ll talk to her nearly as much as Sokka does and she can only tolerate Zuko in moderation. Granted her tolerance level has been on an upward tick, even still. 

“We can resume looking for your mother as well.” Hakoda adds.

“You want to help me look for my mother?”

“You need at least one parent. You and your brother both. And it’s about time that you get some supervision on one of your, what do you call them…?”

“Life changing field trips.” Sokka fills in. 

“Clearly you all need it if you’re running into spirits that can displace souls.” He pauses. “And I would like to get to know the woman my son is dating.”

Azula’s heart hammers in her chest. “O-of course. That is the rational thing to do.” She swallows hard and squeezes Sokka’s hand. Finding her mother after all of this time is daunting in itself, the very prospect makes her queasy. And now she will have to do that while trying to impress and work her way into Hakoda’s good graces. “But first I have to attend this formal dinner party that Zuzu is hosting..” It is only delaying the inevitable. 

“I was invited to that as well.” Hakoda nods. 

“Right, yes. Then I will see you there. And after you and Sokka unveil your plans for the Republic City project.”

“You are welcome to join us for that presentation if you would like.” Hakoda offers. “You did a very large portion of the work.”

“I suppose that I can.” Azula replies. Even if she just stands there it will be nice to be credited for her efforts.”

She is coming to realize that Hakoda is a man who takes ample time to think before he speaks.“It was a pleasure speaking with you, Azula. Thank you for taking good care of my son.”

Azula nods. “Of course. It would have been rude to do damage to a life that wasn’t my own.” It would certainly be embarrassing to know that she had managed to ruin two lives instead of just her own. 

This time he waits for her to nod before resting his hand on her shoulder. “I told you to let me know if you feel overwhelmed while you were Sokka. I haven’t retracted that statement.”

“Perhaps I am slightly.” Having someone concerned for her is going to take some getting used to. “But I am perfectly capable…”

“He knows that, Azula.” Sokka smiles softly. He lifts her hand and gives the back of it a quick peck.