#but this is much more comfortable solution

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing Homicipher Characters to Your Plushies - Pt. 1

The Homicipher Characters come to you in hopes for whatever insanity they plan to drag you into, you instead have a different plan! Showing them your plushies!

Based off my series for the whb devils ! Consider this is scenario where you brought them back to your world with you and they understand your language fully now and vice versa !

Notes: Some very light suggestive content. Gender neutral reader ! This round of characters includes: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Chopped. Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, & Mr. Machete !

Mr. Crawling

Honestly you could do anything and it would just make him love you more.

But especially in this case!

He will sit and listen intently to every last thing you have to say about your plushies!

And he's memorized all of their names for you!! He knows which ones are your favorites and which ones you find the most comforting when you're upset.

He thinks you're so cute when you talk about them too!

He gives you and your plushies pets as you talk about them!!

Squishes your cheeks, you're the most adorable person to him and he's glad you shared with him such an important part of your life.

Will go out and find even more plushies for you. He would do anything for you after all!

Mr. Scarletella

If I'm being honest you could honestly talk about anything and he would just listen.

It wouldn't matter the topic. You wanna talk about your plushies? Then yeah of course he's gonna listen and eat up every detail.

He loves seeing your smile, and admittedly he does get a bit of cuteness aggression from it so prepare yourself for that lol.

However.... He does get kind of jealous of them too.

What do you mean he's not the only being you've given names to? Not to mention the amount of attention and affection you give to them.

Yes, these aren't living creatures and he knows this but he can't help himself!

He gets irritated about it, if you notice his jealousy right away and stop and give him attention then he'll get over it quick.

If it takes you longer to notice however. Things might end up requiring a much more bigger solution than just a few kisses and cuddles.

Mr. Chopped

They're very cute!! He likes your plushies and how excited and cute you get when you talk about them!!

But... They're not as cute as him, right?

Expect to be showing him an equal amount of attention as you are your plushies as your introducing him to them.

He just gets so grumpy and jealous way too easily.

He very much requires you to gush about him just as much as you gush about these inanimate objects.

And as long as you do so he is pleased and content and can live in harmony with your plushies.

He takes note of the names and while he might not remember every last detail, he does like talking to you about them!!

He knows it's an easy way to make you happy and he very much likes making you happy!!

However you'll never know that sometimes when you're not looking, he's glaring at them.

Mr. Silvair

While I don't think he really cares that much about the plushies, he is interested in humans. And you.

So he'll listen. It gives him a bit of insight to how not human minds work, but specifically yours.

This odd cute stuffed creatures bring you immense joy, he's not sure why, but he knows it does and he would like to know why.

Honestly it doesn't really matter what you do, everything to him provides him with more research.

That being said, it's not like it ends up being solely about his research.

He does end up finding himself being oddly endeared by your behavior and how happy you when talking about your plushies.

He's taking to placing them on your whenever you're upset or need comfort. Especially since he knows it works.

He can soft and sweet sometimes. At least when it comes to his favorite human, of course.

Mr. Gap

The idea came to you when you saw him peeking out of a dark gap that was in your plushie pile!

He came to ask one of his typical questions, but you didn't let him get a word in!

You immediately just picked up one of your plushies and started talking about them!

He doesn't really quite find anything interesting about the plushies, but he is interested in you so!

He will listen to what you have to say. And he does know some of your plushies by name after you tell him about them.

Will occasionally show up with plushies he's found that he thinks you will like.

Of course you need to give him your heart to have them though!

You won't?

Well... he guesses he can settle for a kiss or something instead....

Mr. Hood

He doesn't quite fully understand your deep attachment to these objects, but he'll support your love for them fully.

We already know he's a good teacher, but he's also one of the best listeners as well.

He will sit for however long it takes for you to share with him all of your plushies and their names and even lore if you have that for them as well.

He does find it rather endearing, even if he's not quite sure why he enjoys you talking about something for so long.

Will pat your head occasionally, if only he had a head that you could see because if he did he would have the softest smile on it as he watches you talk.

Truly experiencing you share this with him just puts an even deeper desire in him to protect you from any and all harm.

He will make sure and be guaranteed to protect that bright, beaming smile on your face that you have in this moment. At any cost.

Mr. Machete

He does not give a shit.

Or at least that's what he says.

And well, to be fair, he is annoyed by your focus on these cute nonthreatening soft things instead of just sparing with him or something.

Don't ask him if he's jealous of your plushies, he'll deny it to ends of the earth.

Ignore that he's been acting grumpy since.

Just give him a little extra attention and he'll be fine.

Also seems like the kind to get cuteness aggression. But his cuteness aggression just leads to him wanting to fight you. And bite you. Maybe some scratching too. Basically he's not gonna be nice about it and just give you squeezing hugs or something lol

[jaysng]

when you have to go on bed rest — park sunghoon

frustrated and emotional reader, stuck on bed rest during pregnancy, opens up to caring husband, sunghoon. overwhelmed, she asks him to hold her, seeking solace in his embrace as he gently reassures her, reminding her of her strength. [wc. 1.4k]

PAIRING. husband!sunghoon x preg!wife!reader

GENRE. reader is feeling hurt, so angsty fluff

NOTE. this has been sitting in my drafts for about a month now and i’ve been contemplating whether to post it or not.. but here i am guess

you hated being on bed rest.

every minute of it felt like a punishment. you were used to being on your feet, handling things your way, but now you were confined to your room, relying on everyone else to do what you couldn’t. and while your logical mind understood that it was for the baby, the emotional weight of it all was suffocating.

you sat propped against the headboard, arms crossed, staring out the window like it had personally wronged you. the ache in your back had returned, your legs felt stiff, and your mood was steadily getting worse.

the sound of the door opening broke you out of your sulk. sunghoon stepped inside, holding a glass of water in one hand and a small plate of sliced fruit in the other.

“you didn’t eat much earlier,” he said, setting the plate on the bedside table.

“i wasn’t hungry,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes.

he frowned slightly but didn’t push. “you still need to eat something.”

you sighed, glancing at the plate but not making a move to pick it up. the simple act of eating felt exhausting, and your frustration only grew.

sunghoon lingered for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed. he didn’t say anything, his gaze quietly observing you.

“what?” you snapped, sharper than you meant to.

he shook his head, unfazed. “you just seem upset.”

“of course i’m upset, hoon!” you burst out, throwing your hands up. “i’m stuck in this stupid bed all day. i can’t even get up to get my own water. my body hurts. my head hurts. and—” your voice wavered, “—and i feel so useless.”

his expression softened, but he didn’t interrupt. he just let you spill it all out.

“i can’t even…” you trailed off, your hands trembling as you clenched them into fists. “i don’t know. i feel horrible. and i don’t want to talk about it, but i can’t keep it in either. i just—”

you broke off, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill.

sunghoon hesitated for a split second before shifting closer, his hand hovering like he wasn’t sure if you wanted to be touched.

“can you just… hold me?” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. “please?”

his eyes softened further, and without a word, he slipped his arm around your shoulders, gently guiding you against his chest.

the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing—it was grounding. you let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as the dam finally broke.

“i feel like such a mess,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against him.

“you’re not a mess,” he said quietly, his voice calm and certain. “you’re just overwhelmed. it’s okay.”

his hand moved slowly, rubbing soothing circles on your back. he didn’t try to fix anything or offer solutions—he just let you cry, let you feel.

“i don’t know how much more of this i can take,” you admitted, your voice cracking.

“you don’t have to take it alone,” he said simply. “i’m here.”

it was such a sunghoon thing to say—straightforward, without unnecessary embellishments. but somehow, that made it more comforting.

“i hate being like this,” you whispered. “so… weak.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his brow furrowed. “you’re not weak,” he said, his tone firmer now. “you’re growing a whole human inside you. that’s… incredible.”

you let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “doesn’t feel incredible.”

“doesn’t mean it’s not,” he countered, his fingers brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “and even if you feel like you’re falling apart, it’s okay. i’ll hold you together, for as long as you need.”

you looked at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his eyes.

“thank you,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

he didn’t respond with words, just wrapped his arms around you again, holding you close like you were the most important thing in the world.

and for the first time that day, the frustration in your chest eased, just a little. enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this.

© jaysng 2024 | do not repost or plagiarize.

[sam-out-of-energy]

I'm back writing more fic for kefs mecha jazz AU but as texaid has taken over me as of currrent thats what im writin! Just some silly guys and some silly tings, vortex being a weird character yanno :D i went for a bit of a spooky vibe but lmk what ya'll think

Tw for gore i guess? Its not that detailed, but just in case

-------

First Aid- er, Felix, didn't even bother to ask how he'd gotten here. So much had happened since that faithful day he'd been assigned to clean the mecha- er- to clean Vortex.

Thats what this thing liked to call itself apparently. Felix had taken into habit to ignore the text on screens flashing in his face, but when he'd done that the thing had started speaking in his head instead.

So they communicated through screens.

"Dance with me First Aid" it asked, over and over and over again.

When they were deployed, Felix did his darndest to avoid touching the controls. And he didn't have to try too hard as this mecha would move and control itself just fine, slicing and dicing enemies left to right with it's blades.

Felix was a silent observer to the mechas insane violence, but something about it kept him watching. Maybe it was the numbness he already felt towards corpses, but his morbid curiosity peaked whenever he watched Vortex through Vortex's eyes.

Vortex would tease Felix to its hearts content (did it even have a heart? Something equivalent to that anyway), asking him if he was "enjoying the show", wiggling the controls in front of Felix like holding a bone up to a dog.

Felix knew better than to fall for tricks. He knew that every other pilot who had come before him had perished way earlier just by merely pressing one button. He was not about to face the same fate.

Not...until today.

He hadn't had time to think of another solution.

An enemy had caught them unarmed and for the first time ever, knocked Vortex down. No, not even knocked, slammed Vortex down. Hard enough for Felix to feel it.

Sytems fried, a loud buzzing in the back of his head and now, Felix staring up at an alien being, holding a sword over his- Vortex's- their head.

Felix had called for his mecha to wake, but when there wasn't a single stirr in Vortex's body, he'd been forced to grab the controls himself, catching the enemy by suprise and stabbing Vortex's blade through its chest.

The mecha rose at First Aids command. Felix felt his face lift to a grin, something stirring within himself he'd not felt before.

"Haha! Yes!" He squealed almost unintentionally before lifting the blade and pointing it up at the remaining enemies.

"Let's dance!!"

-

Felix sat at the controls. He'd driven the other all the way back to base before he'd shut down the power and just...sat for a while. He'd maybe felt a bit too connected to the mecha. The blood and gore in Vortex's hands had felt so real...too real for Felix's comfort.

He'd sat for long enough before realizing that Vortex stirred. He heard the buzz of systems coming online, the growl of an engine.

"Vortex?" He mumbled, catching himself out of his own daze of thoughts.

Then, the head shook, twisting violently enough to send Felix, unstrapped, falling and tumbling out of his seat.

He sat up quickly. He felt eyes watching him, coldness falling upon the cockpit and then...something dripped on him.

Felix looked up, before looking back to the maw of the beast (the entrance hatch). He saw blood, dripping and soon cascading down from under panels and cracks.

He felt his gut stirr as he quickly rose to his feet, stumbling when he saw blood cover the floor.

"What the fuck-"

He quickly became keenly aware of the space he was now trapped in. The dangerously sharp blades of the fans stirring on the walls, ones he'd picked plenty of fingers out of. The sharp edges of the panels on the roof, somehow able to catch guts, flesh and viscera hanging off the edges.

The floor of the cockpit, now seemingly flooding with blood, staining Felix's suit.

"I'm...sorry? Vortex. I'm sorry." He found himself suddenly speaking. Perhaps it was fright that had forced him to stand still, not sure if the visceral bits of skin and body parts he saw on the walls were real or not.

What the hell?! This thing itself had been begging him to use the controls! Now it was..punishing him for it?

Panic settled in Felix's mind without him even thinking too hard. He had to run, he had to escape.

And that he..tried. Bright red screens watched First Aid back further and further from the entrance, pressing against the wall of the cockpit. No way he could get out the right way, he'd be crushed before he could get through one hatch.

Felix suddenly felt a sharp pain. He twisted and jumped back from the wall, looking down to see what looked like some sort of hook that had sprung out and stabbed into his thigh. (A gap in between his armour).

He let out a painsoaked grunt, pressing a palm over the bleeding spot (He wasnt sure if it was his own blood or not).

A thought came to him. The only other route of escape. Felix limped to the control panel and almost found himself gagging at a pair of hands, torn from the wrists, hanging off of it, rigor mortis the only thing keeping them gripping to the edge of the panel. Everything stank of blood and rust.

He pressed the emergency exit button and turned when he saw a hatch open at the back.

Upon approaching, Felix found that it was just a...chute. An opening at the back of the head that slid down and then opened at the bottom to reveal a fall that was...god knows how long. Vortex was tall.

Felix bit the bullet, grabbing onto the small nooks and cracks inside the chute before starting to climb.

He'd managed to descend about halfway before realizing what kind of a situation he'd just put himself in. Like a prey animal running into a corner, driving itself into the worst possible situation out of sheer panic to escape. The predator had only needed to watch and wait.

Felix let out a stressed "No!" When he saw the hatch below slam shut. The slam of a hatch above made him lose his grip and fall down.

-

It was pitch black, the only illumination inside the escape chute being the small red LEDs lining its walls.

Felix's heart beat louder than the entire mecha. He felt his pulse rush, cold sweat coming down his back.

"Vortex, please"

He called out.

Ch-THUNK!

A hatch slammed shut above him.

Felix's eyes widened at the imminent danger approaching.

Ch-THUNK!

"Vortex" he choked up. He didn't want to die like this. God help the poor sap who would have to dig his crushed and dismantled corpse out of the mechas escape chute.

Ch-THUNK!

Ch-THUNK!

CH-THUNK!

"Vortex!!" He screamed one last time.

It was silent. Felix found himself screaming for a lot longer than he thought.

He

He wasn't dead?

His eyes opened. He was still in darkness, pressed back as down as he could be, against the emergency chute. One last hatch closed barely above his head, upon trying to lift himself, he'd bumped his helmet into it.

Felix then found that he was falling in the blink of an eye as the chute opened again. He couldn't muster out anymore screams, landing on something before he had time to process that he'd fallen in the first place.

A hand. A giant mechanical hand, slowly lifting and bringing him up to a terrifyingly familiar face and then to a dearly familiar scaffolding.

Felix took no hesitation to jump off the hand and land on the scaffolding, stumbling and turning to look back at the giant mecha infront of him.

He panted, falling to his knees when he caught solid ground, watching the bright red glow of the mechas visor.

He turned down to feel his body, his hands trembling from the afterburn of adrenaline. He took off his helmet to feel the cool air brushing over all his senses.

He was alive. His thigh was hurting, but he was alive.

Felix heard a thunk, lifting his head to see that the visor had dimmed. Inside, a bright red glow of a tv screen.

"Did you enjoy it"

it asked, the words read out by a voice inside Felix's head for him. Then the text changed and so did the voices tone, from a mechanical one to sounding more....amused.

"See you tomorrow, First Aid"

[mattscoquette]

how do you think matt would react if he found his girl sh-ing? (u should make a one shot on this <3) would chris react the same as matt?

matt finding out his girl is sh

. detailed mentions of self harm and anxiety !! pls read with caution <3 this is also in no way romanticizing sh ! remember u are loved :)

you shakily pried open the back of your phone case, carefully removing the small blade you’d taken from your shower razor. standing over the sink as water poured from faucet, you slid up the sleeves of your sweater, an array of both fresh and healed scars adorning your skin. you felt tears prick your eyes as you began to slide the blade against your skin, slashing new cuts into your wrists.

as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t stop yourself from hurting yourself. it had become your way of coping with your anxiety, and your solution to every situation that arose. and matt, poor matt, was so observant in your change of behavior. the way you only wore long sleeves, how you seemed to panic whenever he held your hand. you two stopped having sex months ago. and you noticed how it affected your relationship. you noticed how everything that you did affected your relationship. and that only made you want to hurt yourself even more.

matt deserved a better girlfriend. or so you thought. in your head, you were ruining matt’s life. you were barely there anymore, feeling like you were a ghost watching your life from the outside. and you loved matt so much, so much that it hurt, and all you wanted was for him to be happy. but to you, if you weren’t happy, matt couldn’t be happy.

lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the mess of blood you were making in the sink, and matt knocking on the door softly. “baby are you good? i’m home with food.”

you cursed underneath your breath, hurriedly turning off the sink and holding a fist over your cuts, trying to stop the flow of blood. i’m okay was all you could unconvincingly rasp out.

“are you sure? can i come in?” matt called out, his voice as sweet and caring as ever. because why wouldn’t it be. you were matt’s entire world, the only thing that mattered to him was you.

“i’ll be right out, i’m okay.” you spoke, trying your best to stop your voice from shaking. you looked down at your cloth covered wrists, dark stains seeping through the sleeves where your hand was clamped around them.

but, matt knew you. he knew something was wrong, and he knew you weren’t okay. so, matt being matt, pushed his thumb against the lock, twisting it as it unlocked. slowly, he turned the doorknob, opening the bathroom door where he saw you standing inside, a panicked expression on your face as you held a hand over your wrists.

matt’s eyes scanned around the bathroom, his face falling as he realized what you were doing. the blade on the counter, the blood in the sink, the way you were drawing your arms into your body. and suddenly, the last few months made sense. "sweetheart.” he couldn’t even manage a whisper.

matt swiftly made his way to you, wrapping his arms around your body as he held you tight. you couldn’t stop the sobs that racked your body, crying hard into matt’s chest while he just cradled you. he kissed the side of your head repeatedly, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pulled you both down onto the tiled floor, letting you climb up into his lap.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffled, burying your face into his shoulder, “i’m sorry i’m so messy.”

matt pulled away, his expression as if you had just personally offended him. his ran a thumb across your tear stricken cheek, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “don’t be sorry, i’m not upset.”

he continued to comfort you, rocking you back and forth in his arms on the bathroom floor.

“i’m always gonna be here for you.” he mumbled into your hair, feeling his own eyes begin to well with tears. “no matter what.”

“always?”

“always.”

© mattscoquette

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ i kinda wanna start trying to write more angsty stuff like this, ty for this request ! can’t lie i lowk cried writing this but i feel like it lowk helped me in a way bc i used to struggle w this. anyway i hope u guys like <3 and if anyone needs someone to talk to im here !!

[jayden-writes]

safe

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~3k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, whump

cw: kidnapping, strangulation, threats, violence, murder

summary: Did it truly matter that the hands cradling your face so very gently were bloody?

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic

A piece of fabric pressing over your mouth and nose was all it took to plunge your world into darkness, a pungent smell being the last thing you could process. You’d been on your way back from a short trip, unsuspecting, unaware of who was lurking in the shadows. How much time had passed, you couldn’t possibly tell, but as you finally came to, all you could feel was a dull pain engulfing your entire body. Upon trying to check for any injuries, you realized your wrists were tied, bindings digging tightly into your skin. Slowly, your other senses started to return to you, and you registered that you were sitting, something around your chest keeping you upright.

Forcing your eyelids open, you blinked a few times, attempting to make sense of your surroundings. It was dark, the small, sparse room only dimly lit. If you had to guess, you'd say it was some sort of basement; the floor was unfinished, and the brick wall looked rough. “Mh-” you tried to speak, but all that you managed to get out was a muffled, quiet sound. You’ve been gagged. A heavy weight settled deep in your stomach. The cloth forced between your teeth tasted musty, already damp with your saliva. Looking down with wide eyes, you took in the multiple rows of rope wrapped around your upper body, restricting your breathing, arms bound behind you at an awkward, painful angle that made your shoulders ache. The edge of the metal chair you were sitting on cut into your thighs.

When you wiggled around to free yourself, or at least loosen the restraints, the legs scraped on the crude floor, making your ears hurt. But no matter how hard you fought, it was futile. Holding back tears, you let your head hang, closing your eyes. Deliberately keeping your inhales slow and steady, you tried to think of a solution despite your racing thoughts. Panicking wouldn’t save you, you knew that. Clearly, you would be unable to free yourself without outside assistance. And with your mouth gagged, you weren’t even able to invoke one of your pacts to call them for help. So, what should you do? What could you do?

Before you had any more time to reflect on your circumstances, you heard heavy footsteps above you, drawing your attention. Seconds later, a door was opened, the light momentarily blinding you, then it was cut off again. In the remaining light bleeding through the crack of the door, you saw feet, legs and after that, slowly, the rest of someone unknown to you entered your field of vision - though it was obvious that it was a demon. Her eyes were unnaturally bright, the pale blue piercing through you. A wolfish grin curled around her lips as she stepped closer. You wanted to shrink back, huddle into the furthest corner of the room. But you couldn’t.

“Ah, finally awake, are we? I bet you must have a lot of questions.” Her voice was casual, as if she was simply out for a stroll while she towered over you. “Well, too bad! You see, as much as I’d like to have what would undoubtedly be a very productive conversation with you, I know you’d just call upon one of those so-called Lords that grovel at your feet.”

“Mph…! Mn…!” you tried again, only earning an amused chuckle from her.

“I’m not particularly keen on having one of those brothers that practically fawn over you come to your rescue. Pathetic, really. Demons of their status acting like that around a human. They're supposed to be leaders, to be an example to us lowly demons. Ha, as if! Traitors, all of them, and they should be treated as such.” She gripped your chin roughly, her pointed fingernails scraping along your flesh as you glared at her defiantly despite the ice-cold sensation running through your veins.

“Don’t give me that fucking look, human, show me some respect,” she sneered. For a moment longer, she held your gaze, then her eyes wavered. Faster than you could comprehend, a sharp smack resounded in the small room, and your cheek stung. The force of the slap made your head spin. “You’ll lose that defiant look of yours soon enough and learn to grovel at our feet, just the way it should be. I’ll correct the mistake that fool of a prince made.”

Leaning even closer, she brought her hand down to your throat, closing her grip tightly around it. “I could kill you, just like this,” she whispered harshly into your ear as you struggled against her. Faintness quickly took you over, and your vision became frayed at the edges. Were you going to die like this? “Throw your decaying corpse at the feet of these pathetic weaklings and watch them become consumed by their emotions. And then, I’ll be the king.” You couldn’t die. Not now. Not like this. Not here. Not at her hands.

Finally, she let go of you, and you slumped forward. Blood rushed in your ears and you coughed into the cloth. “Tsk.” She spat on the ground right next to where you were trembling on the chair. “That was more boring than I’d expected. Thought you had more fight in you. But you'll see-”

Her speech was cut off when, suddenly, the door was thrown open, banging against the wall and making both you and your captor flinch. “And what exactly,” drawled a frigid voice as slow steps descended the stairs, “was ‘more boring than expected’? Enlighten me.”

You immediately recognized who it was - of course you did. But the softness that usually laced Lucifer's tone whenever he was talking to you was entirely gone, replaced by a sharpness you’d rarely heard from him. It wasn't directed toward you, you knew that, and yet you couldn't help the shiver running down your spine at the sound of his booming voice. Though he sounded composed, it was clear that he was anything but. The air felt electric, and the dangerous aura he exuded made your hair stand on end. Your heart skipped a beat, only to start pounding faster, a whimper escaping from behind the gag.

Lucifer came to a stop in front of the other demon, who had become virtually frozen in place, all color drained from her face. Gleaming red eyes glanced at you, swiftly assessing your state, before, whatever it was he saw, made his gaze harden even further. “Look away,” he instructed you in an oddly soft tone, and then his focus returned to your abductor, who was now visibly shaking.

“M-my lord,” she stammered, the quiver in her words unmistakable. “Please, you must understand-”

Within the blink of an eye, Lucifer had her pinned against the wall, a pained shriek filling the room. “What must I understand?” he asked, sounding deceptively calm, as his fingers dug into the throat of the other demon. She fought against the grip, trying to loosen the hold. To no avail. Lucifer was unmoving, unbothered by the nails scratching at his gloved hands. Clicking his tongue, he let go, and she collapsed to the ground.

“Please,” she tried, her voice strained as she coughed, attempting to gather herself. A hard kick was delivered to her stomach, causing her to cry out again and curl in on herself. When it was followed by Lucifer stepping on her hand, you knew you should have heeded his order and looked away. As it was, you were unable to avert your gaze as the bones of her fingers cracked beneath the force of his foot. She was pulled up to stand, though most of her weight was being held up by him, pinning her against the wall once more. “I-I'm sorry,” she choked out as he pressed his forearm into her throat.

“Are you truly sorry? Or are you merely trying to save your worthless skin?” Lucifer questioned in a dangerously low voice. He trailed a finger along her cheekbone. “Perhaps,” he mused, “I should rid your body of it. Find a better purpose for it. I believe some bookbinders still use demon skin for books. It would make a terrific present for your family, wouldn't you agree?” He paused, taking in the horror flickering across her face with an impassive expression. “Of course, that would be rather time-consuming. And, quite frankly, I have more important things to tend to than your worthless existence. Let's make this quick then, shall we?”

As if she weighed nothing, he slung her toward the opposite wall, a sickening crack audible as her head made contact with the bricks. She bonelessly fell to the floor, groaning in pain. Before she was able to regain her bearings, Lucifer was kneeling beside her prone body, not caring about the rapidly forming puddle of blood that was dirtying his pants. A dagger glinted in the dimly lit room, and only when blood spurted from her throat, her last, gurgling attempts at breathing filling the air, did you look away, your breaths coming in sharp gasps against the cloth. You felt sick.

With the mangled corpse of the demon lying at the feet of Lucifer, his gaze returned to your quivering form. The intense sheen in his eyes vanished as he took swift steps toward you, appraising your pale appearance. Crouching near you, he partially obscured the gruesome scene behind him. But now, with him finally by your side, he didn't need to. You didn't want to look at it, didn't care about the dead demon, the only thing your sight was drawn to was him. All that mattered was the man before you. The man who could easily kill you just like he killed her, who barely even batted an eye at the wounds he’d inflicted upon that woman. You knew that, rationally, you should be terrified of him, at least as much as you’d been terrified of her. And yet you weren't.

Those same hands that had just killed in cold blood, still stained red, were gently working on undoing the painful restraints keeping you in place. Those same eyes that had shone with ruthless indifference as he had taken a life now looked at you with carefully guarded concern and cautiousness. The crimson streaking his sharp features, dripping off his jaw in beads, complemented the eyes that were looking at you with a contradictory softness perfectly.

Once the cloth was removed from your mouth, all you could muster was a broken sob in the vague shape of his name. With a soft sigh that was probably shakier than Lucifer would have liked to admit, you were gathered into his arms. A hand gingerly pressed against the back of your head, guiding your face into the crook of his neck. The wet blood on his glove was undoubtedly staining your hair, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care; the warmth and safety you found in his embrace was all that mattered.

“Do you have any serious injuries?” he asked quietly, his breath brushing against your ear. Upon feeling you shake your head, he lifted you from the chair, carrying your weight with ease, and you instinctively wrapped your arms over his shoulders. As soon as he'd made it up the stairs, you could hear multiple sets of steps approaching in a hurry alongside several voices, yelling over each other. You recognized all of them, and they rushed around you, a few of them touching you.

Lucifer tightened his hold on you as the sudden onslaught of sensations made you whimper and burrow yourself further into him. “Stop it. This is not helping,” he reprimanded them sharply, and immediately, it grew quiet and the hands withdrew. “I will return home,” he continued. “Do with the body as you wish, though you ought to leave some remains. And don't dawdle too long.”

With that, he went outside, the fresh, cool air replacing the stuffy, metallic tang of the basement. The trip back was short - or was it long? You weren’t sure. It was silent, neither you nor him said anything. The tension in Lucifer was palpable, his posture rigid as he carried you. You mindlessly played with the fabric of his shirt, rubbing it between the tips of your fingers while your head rested on his shoulder.

“I'm okay,” you whispered, although it sounded hollow even to your own ears. He released a heavy sigh and hugged you closer to him.

“You're okay,” he simply echoed.

Next thing you knew, you were back inside. Lucifer's bloody hands were gentle as they worked on divesting your still-trembling form of your clothes, his gaze never lingering anywhere but his own fingers. Not that you would have noticed either way; you were blankly staring ahead, only vaguely aware of his actions. When he had finished, he spoke in a soft voice, as if afraid to startle you, “All done. Are you ready to get in?” Your attention snapped back to the present, to the warm bathroom you were standing in. The tiles beneath your bare feet were a little cold, just now starting to heat up. In the background, water was running, gradually filling the bathtub right next to you.

“Lucifer…?” you mumbled, receiving a squeeze to your hands in response. Looking down, you realized he was gently holding them in his own, ugly bruises and abrasions blooming across your wrists. His gloves were still damp, some of the blood staining your skin.

“Yes. I’m here. Let’s get you cleaned up now,” he responded patiently, directing you toward the tub. Your steps were mechanical as you followed his guidance, entering the warm water and submerging your body in it. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you hugged your legs to yourself, simply gazing at the rippling shapes around you.

“I will leave for a moment to change. Call for me if something is the matter.” For a beat, Lucifer waited for a reply, a reaction, anything from you. When he received none, he sighed wearily. “It will only be for a moment, I will be right back,” he said before stepping out. As you submerged your hands, you watched as the water surrounding you turned a light shade of pink. The pain radiating from your wrists was distant, detached from your being. You observed how you flexed your fingers, then curled them toward your palm, nails digging into the flesh. Had your hands always looked like that? Turning them around, you inspected them, spreading the fingers apart, pressing them together and-

“Does it hurt a lot?” a voice asked and you flinched hard, spinning toward the source. Lucifer was kneeling next to the tub, his brow creased in a frown. “I did not mean to startle you. You seemed very… absorbed in your thoughts. I suppose you didn’t hear me return.” His gloves were gone now, with no traces of the blood that had marred his skin just minutes ago. He had changed into clean, comfortable clothes as well. Upon your prolonged silence, he reached for a nearby cloth, dipping it into the water, then moving it over your body in slow, gentle circles.

“Is this real?” you muttered, the words leaving your mouth before you had even formed the thought.

“Yes, it is real,” he confirmed calmly, though his ministrations faltered briefly. “We are in my bathroom, back in the House of Lamentation. You are safe here.”

“Mhm…” you hummed noncommittally, your gaze drifting down to your submerged hands as you balled them into fists and stretched them out. The water rippled at the repetitive motion and you couldn’t help but stare at the patterns it created. The sensation of the cloth brushing over your skin faded into the background. Only when larger hands stopped your movements, grasping yours gently, did you glance at Lucifer again. You blinked at him blankly. Something in his expression was off, though you couldn’t tell what it was.

“I’m tired,” a voice said and you didn’t have the energy to think about whether it was your own or not.

“Let’s get you into bed then, hm?” he suggested softly, letting the water drain and carefully supporting you as you stood up and stepped out of the tub. A large towel was wrapped around you with which he patted you dry before he helped you into a set of clothes. They vaguely smelled like him. With an arm over your shoulders, he guided you out of the bathroom and back toward his room. Once at the bed, you lay down, sinking into the mattress. For a moment, Lucifer simply remained next to you, regarding you with an unreadable look on his face. Eventually, he knelt beside you and opened the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out a small container. Gingerly, he took one of your arms and scooped out some ointment to apply to the raw skin on your wrist, then he repeated it on the other side as well.

After stowing it away again, Lucifer turned off all the lights besides the candles and climbed into the bed next to you, cautiously gathering you into an embrace. A hand cupped the back of your head, hugging you into his chest as the fingers stroked your scalp. Aside from his even breaths and your slow, shallow ones, it was silent. An invisible weight was tugging on your limbs, the only thing holding you in place, holding you together, were the arms enveloping you.

“Can I let go?” you mumbled, not quite sure yourself what you were trying to ask, but he seemed to understand nonetheless.

“Yes, it’s alright to let go now,” he reassured you, squeezing you a little tighter. “I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

Humming in response, you nestled closer to him, feeling your breaths gradually synchronize with his as you surrendered yourself to the heavy warmth overcoming you. Soon, everything else slowly faded away until you finally drifted off to sleep, safe in Lucifer’s hold.

[anxiousapplepie]

hi i woke up this morning and my brain chose violence. so. so so so. the Death Corridor. who, uh. who's the trap finder in the role swaps? because i'm honestly not sure which is worse: your first loop coming out of the novel experience of being crushed to death by a giant rock, or your first loop coming out of the sheer distress of it happening to your friend.

and now, for happier thoughts! Mx. "please crush me into the mattress i am touch starved beyond comprehension" Siffrin (any of them) + Mr. "deliberately hand-Crafted myself into the human form of a weighted blanket" Isabeau (again, any of them) = joy! joy! joy for Siffrins! joy for one thousand years!

well, joy as soon as they can. y'know. say something about it. anyway! joy be upon ye! ^w^

Some mornings be like that! And buddy I am going to reward your brain for choosing violence because this is a TASTY thing to think about >:3c Atm I am thinking Siffrin is still the trap-master for all the roleswap AUs! Mostly because I laughed at the idea of Housemaiden!Siffrin being like "Oh yeah! I forgot! this is Death Corridor! I can't remember where the switch is to deactivate the trap, but the House is frozen in time so maybe the trap won't work anyway! I'm sure we'll be fine-" and instantly gets crushed like a pancake. The delightful idiot- can't even walk through his front doors without dying XD Bonnie is gonna scream bloody murder if it happens more than twice AS FOR THE HAPPIER THOUGHTS. You have no idea how much I am trying to resist drawing Fighter!Sif and Cook!Isa fluff bUT ALSO! Researcher!Siffrin, if they aren't wearing their cloak to bed for some reason post timeloops, lamenting "I miss the comforting weight of being crushed by all my books" Isa would be like "............. I might have an alternative solution." Joy is stored in the Sifs and Isas being disgustingly adorable <333

[yan-lorkai]

Heyyy! I hope you are doing well! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

I would like to request something!

Yan!Crowley with a darling who is his secretary! I hope you're comfortable with writing romantic stuff with the staff. If not then please ignore this request. ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Stay safe and don't forget to stay hydrated! Byeee ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: This is my first Crowley request so I hope I wrote him right. Enjoy ~

Working as Dire Crowley’s secretary is a whirlwind of chaos, exasperation, and somehow endearment. On the surface, he’s an eccentric, bumbling headmaster who constantly piles his endless workload onto you while waxing poetic about how invaluable you are to him.

He often forgets appointments, dodges responsibilities, and somehow manages to create more paperwork for you with every half-baked plan he devises - it's like you are the headmaster and he is your secretary.

And yet, despite the frustration, you stay. Maybe it’s because you’ve grown used to the rhythm of his antics, or maybe it’s because he always finds a way to charm you into sticking around. He praises you endlessly, often with overly dramatic flair, declaring that no one could ever replace you. At first, you thought it was just his usual theatrics, but as time went on, you began to notice the subtle possessiveness behind his words.

Crowley has a way of making you feel both indispensable and trapped. If you so much as hint at being overwhelmed or mention needing time off, he panics. He flutters around you, begging for forgiveness and insisting he couldn’t possibly survive a day without you.

"What would this school do without my brilliant secretary?" He laments, clutching his chest like you’ve just stabbed him thirty times. "No, no, no! You must stay! For the sake of the academy and my sanity as well!"

His behavior grows more suffocating the closer you get to him. He begins to rely on you not just professionally but personally, pulling you into his orbit with every request and manufactured crisis. It’s not uncommon for him to call you into his office for “urgent matters” that turn out to be little more than an excuse to chat or keep you near him.

Despite his shortcomings, Crowley is remarkably attentive when it comes to you. He knows your favorite tea, the way you like your workspace organized, and even small details like how you tap your pen when you’re frustrated. He uses this knowledge to ingratiate himself further, always appearing with a solution or a grand gesture at just the right time.

The turning point comes when he starts making subtle comments about your interactions with others. If you spend too long talking to a student or a staff member, his demeanor shifts. The usually jovial headmaster becomes uncharacteristically quiet, his golden eyes watching you intently. Later, he’ll casually bring up the encounter, his tone light but his words carefully chosen to sow doubt or guilt.

"Ah, I see you’ve been spending a lot of time with Professor Trein lately," he’ll say, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "I do hope you’re not neglecting your duties with me, dear secretary. After all, no one understands you like I do."

Over time, his antics escalate. He begins orchestrating situations to isolate you, ensuring you spend more time with him and less with others. The line between professional and personal blurs further as he starts calling you by affectionate nicknames, brushing off your protests with a laugh.

"My dear, you work far too hard," he coos one evening, handing you a cup of tea he made himself. "Allow me to take care of you. After all, you take such good care of me."

Though his behavior is overwhelming, there’s a strange comfort in his constant attention. He’s unpredictable and demanding, but he’s also fiercely protective and utterly devoted. And as much as you might want to escape the suffocating hold he has on you, a part of you wonders if anyone else could ever match the intensity of his obsession.

[sensualnoiree]

astro notes: daily transits & horoscopes 11/23

Saturday brings a mixed bag of energies as the Virgo Moon’s opposition to Saturn highlights frustrations with inefficiencies and imperfections. However, the mood shifts by evening with a harmonious Moon–Venus trine, fostering forgiveness, warmth, and connection. The day offers a progression from critical scrutiny to soothing affection, reminding us of the value of balancing discipline with compassion.

Rising Sign Delineations:

Aries Rising The Virgo Moon and Saturn opposition spotlights work or health routines that feel restrictive, urging you to refine your approach. By evening, the Moon–Venus trine in your 6th and 10th houses soothes career tensions, allowing for collaborative problem-solving and supportive interactions.

Taurus Rising The Moon–Saturn opposition between your 5th and 11th houses may surface frustrations in creative projects or group dynamics. Evening’s Moon–Venus trine restores harmony, encouraging joyful self-expression and romantic or social connections.

Gemini Rising Challenges at home or in private matters come to light as the Virgo Moon opposes Saturn in your 4th and 8th houses. By evening, the Moon–Venus trine helps smooth over emotional tensions, offering opportunities for heartfelt discussions or practical resolutions.

Cancer Rising The Virgo Moon’s opposition to Saturn between your 3rd and 9th houses could highlight communication breakdowns or travel delays. Evening’s Moon–Venus trine in earth signs helps mend misunderstandings, creating space for productive and meaningful conversations.

Leo Rising Financial frustrations or inefficiencies related to shared resources might arise under the Moon–Saturn opposition in your 2nd and 8th houses. Evening’s Moon–Venus trine brings relief, fostering cooperation in resolving these matters or simply indulging in well-earned comforts.

Virgo Rising With the Virgo Moon opposite Saturn in your 1st and 7th houses, relationship dynamics may feel strained as criticisms or insecurities come to the surface. Evening brings a shift with the Moon–Venus trine, encouraging reconciliation and mutual understanding.

Libra Rising The Moon–Saturn opposition in your 12th and 6th houses highlights hidden anxieties about work or health. Evening’s Moon–Venus trine provides a much-needed reprieve, offering emotional clarity and the chance to unwind in supportive company.

Scorpio Rising Group dynamics or collaborative efforts may feel tense as the Virgo Moon opposes Saturn in your 11th and 5th houses. By evening, the Moon–Venus trine inspires enjoyable social interactions and creative collaborations, reigniting your passion and optimism.

Sagittarius Rising Professional or public responsibilities may feel burdensome under the Moon–Saturn opposition in your 10th and 4th houses. Evening’s Moon–Venus trine lightens the mood, supporting connections that help balance work and personal life with grace.

Capricorn Rising The Virgo Moon’s opposition to Saturn in your 9th and 3rd houses could challenge your plans or beliefs, urging you to rethink your approach. Evening’s Moon–Venus trine offers a moment of reprieve, ideal for thoughtful conversations or inspiring creative pursuits.

Aquarius Rising The Moon–Saturn opposition between your 8th and 2nd houses might emphasize frustrations with shared finances or personal security. Evening’s Moon–Venus trine brings harmony to these matters, encouraging collaboration and trust in finding solutions.

Pisces Rising Relationship tensions may arise as the Virgo Moon opposes Saturn in your 7th and 1st houses, spotlighting critical or restrictive dynamics. Evening’s Moon–Venus trine restores balance, fostering affectionate exchanges and a renewed sense of partnership.

follow for more astro insights like this and head on over to @quenysefields or my etsy --> sensualnoiree to grab my new astrology guidebook on reading your own natal chart :)

[kalliandrae]

I have never written anything about Warhammer 40000 before, but I found myself lost in the loophole that is the Primarchs. So I can't help myself but write about some of them. Especially those I like the most.

It will be a few short headcanons about those I like the most, how would they treat you after you had a long and tiring day. In no particular order here it is.

Roboute Guilliman:

He would likely approach the situation with his typical mix of logic and affection. He would sit down with you and ask how your day was, listening intently to your response. Once he has a grasp on how stressful your day was, he would offer a comforting gesture, like a warm hug or holding your hand, gently rubbing your much smaller hands and listening to everything you say. He definitely would offer advice to you, as well.

He would also also respect if you want to spend some time alone, but he would make sure you have your favorite snacks and drinks available when you need it. Or when you no longer want to be alone and want to... sleep with him instead of in your lonely room.

Horus Lupercal:

Horus is known for his charismatic and loving nature, and he would go out of his way to make his loved one feel relaxed and cared for after a tiring day. He would be attentive and supportive, Listen to any thoughts, concerns, or frustrations you may have and he is offering a listening ear and reassuring words of comfort and encouragement. He would offer to massage your shoulders, applying soothing oils to loosen any tension in your shoulders, prepare a warm cup of tea or other beverage to help you relax. He would also prepare a relaxing bath with scented candles.

And if you are feeling up to it, he could also arrange a romantic, candlelit dinner or a relaxing night in together, filled with laughter, cuddles, and gentle kisses. ;)

Lorgar Aurelian:

After a tiring day, Lorgar would treat you with extreme care and sweetness. He would draw you a warm bath and tenderly wash your hair, then massage your tension away. He would light the room with candles, and softly recite poetry or sacred verses to soothe your tired mind.

Lorgar would then lay you on the bed, gently wrapping you in a blanket and whispering how much he loved and adored you until you drifted off to sleep. He would stay by your side, watching over you like a guardian. Some may would say he is bordering on worshipping you by how much he adores you. Probably he actually does that, as well.

It's Lorgar we speak about, after all.

Rogal Dorn:

Knowing Dorn, he would likely take a more practical and hands-on approach to showing his love after a tiring day. He'd be very stoic and reserved in his demeanor, but his actions would speak louder than words. He definitely won't engage in romantic gestures, he would focus on ensuring that his loved one's basic needs are met, so that you are fes, rested and comfortable. He would take care of any practical needs or tasks that need to be done.

He definitely would make sure your living space is neat and orderly. You would probably never find it in any other way. His love language is one of practicality and reliability, offering a steadfast presence and support rather than grand gestures or expressive displays. He probably couldn't even do those kind of displays, anyway.

Ferrus Manus:

After a tiring day, Ferrus Manus would likely approach you one in a reserved and stoic manner, not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Nonetheless, he would likely show his concern for you in his own way, offering a firm but comforting touch, a brief but genuine smile, which very few ever had the luck to see, or simply inquiring if you are well.

He would likely prioritize practicality in tending to your needs, such as offering food, a comfortable place to rest, or suggesting a practical solution to any problems you may be facing. In the end, his way of expressing love would be through actions rather than words.

Perturabo:

Okay, he is much more tougher, given his personality, but let's see... You somehow managed to get his attention and his love. However, it is more difficult than with the other mentioned Primarchs.

Perturabo, being the kind of Primarch that he is, would likely handle his partner's exhaustion with a no-nonsense approach. He'd encourage efficiency and practicality.

So it is not unexpected that he wouldn't shower you with love, you knew what you were getting into, weren't you? Of course you were.

But let's not be harsh. Even he has some *relaxing* activities like tactical games or perhaps even building something as a way to unwind. And if he is in a good enough mood, maybe you can join him. He'd be direct about his expectations and would likely encourage you to be productive and efficient with this downtime.

... or if he is in a bad mood, he'd grow even more distant than usual. He'd probably just dismiss you with a "I'm busy with my own tasks, don't bother me." He'd probably feel guilty about it, but never talk about it.

But probably the next day you'd notice that he is a bit less harsh than usual.

This is the first time I ever wrote headcanons, and it is much harder than I originally thought it to be — but it is also really fun! I am not sure how much I succeeded in writing them accurately, I hope it's not that bad and it was an enjoyable read!

[onyx-syn]

Ya know, the more and more I get into mouthwashing and falling more in love with the characters and story - having a deep connection to it- I think about how the crew would celebrate holidays, more in particular Christmas and new years. And with the holiday seasons coming up, I think I'll write something little about it.

So take this

How the Tulpar Crew celebrates Christmas/Winter Holidays!

Warnings: Jealousy, this is just really sweet and full of fluff!

🌹So taking as it isn't clear as into there destination and there exact main transportation station they deported from (unless I missed that part and they said earth-) so for this I'm going based off of Earth's time!

🌹Pony Express has different transportation stations on different planets, but their main one is on Earth, so much of the calendars found on Pony Express ships align their calendars with Earths time. However, only these calendars can be authorized to the captain or co-pilot

🌹As to why that is, no one really knows but it's a tiny detail in the Pony Express Employee handbook underneath Captains Protocols Section, which was to keep check on calendar

🌹Anya has access to the up to date calendar that aligned with Earth's time. Anya still wanted to have some form of a connection with the outside world, almost like being home sick in her own way

🌹She kept the calendar so she could figure out what days were which holidays. However the reason that she gave Curly on why she wanted authorization to the calendar, was so she could updated records on all the crewmates time of psych evals and medication, which was true but she also had another more personal reason

🌹Anya turns the radio channels in medical bay just right to a music station that plays 24 hours Christmas music

🌹Is Christmas music her favorite music? No. Does she enjoy listening to it? Of course. Hearing Christmas music while being so far away to enjoy it with family and friends makes her feel closer to home

🌹Daisuke is the same way, but more on listening to more 'modern' versions of the songs, remixes sort of speak. As the youngest he would be the most appealing to gen z, so most of his taste and interests would be brain rot and memes

🌹Regardless, as much as he seems like the enthusiastic outgoing intern who always has a smile plastered on his face, deep down he felt a part of him become increasingly lonely, mostly due to the fact this would be his first holiday without being with his family and friends while being up in space

🌹Some of Daisukes games on his gameboy actually update their game during the holiday seasons to bring the spirit of the holiday into the game

🌹It brings him comfort seeing the snowy aesthetic on his game as he played. Reminds him of when he would sit on the couch and play, the window beside him displaying snow falling down, coating the ground and trees in a pure white scenery

🌹Out of all the crew members, Anya and Daisuke are for sure the ones who decorate. You don't wanna ask how long it took for them to go through the deep trenches of the ship to find even ONE Christmas decoration. Let's just say Daisuke has never been more happy to find plastic fake snow. Swansea just shook his head at Daisuke but deep down he loved the enthusiasm and determination this kid had to actually go in the back to find all of this stuff with Anya

🌹Now, when it came down to the Christmas tree, that's where the problem of decorating came to. Solution? Use the statue of Pony Express’s mascot as the Christmas tree (I think you can imagine who’s idea this was)

Curly and Swansea stared at the statue of Pony Express mascot, now covered in an abundance of different Christmas lights and taped on Christmas ornaments, with a look of wonder and confusion.

Before either one of them could mutter out a word about the look of their ‘new’ statue, in comes Daisuke walking through the automatic door with a gleeful look on his face and a star shining in his eyes as he carried in more lights and ornaments.

His attention turned to Swansea and Curly, seeing their expressions. “See you guys found the tree!”

Swansea raised an eyebrow at him, “You mean the mascot?”

“No our tree, don’t disrespect Mr.Tree like that Swansea”, Daisuke exclaimed walking over and placing more ornaments on the mascot with an over amount of tape -like a concerning amount- that made Curly question for a second just how much tape they would have left after Christmas day.

🌹Speaking of Curly and Swansea, these two are the worst ones with homesickness during the holiday seasons, especially Swansea

🌹Years back when Pony Express had the budget for it, they used to have a televised transmitter, where the crewmate could set up a small static TV panel in the lounge area and get a live feed of a similar TV panel back at home, so they could connect and communicate with their friends and families

🌹Swansea has been around so long that when he first began the job, he remembered when they first introduced the invention and took them away. Whenever he was out on a delivery and Christmas came around, he was always eager to get the transmission up and running to watch his family open presents. His wife and he would buy their kids Christmas presents before he departed. He always kept up with his kids, in what they like and don't like, even if he didn't fully understand some of their interests, and on the side to buy his wife a gift as well

🌹Swansea is both the type to buy appliances for his wife to use around the house cause she mentioned one time that she wish she had this or that for the house, and the type to get his wife an expensive new jewelry set. He loves that woman to death and will do anything and buy anything to see that look of surprise on her face, it brought a small quirked smile on his face every time

🌹When they took the transmitter away due to budget cuts, Swansea was stern and protested about it, sadly his complaints were left unanswered

🌹Anya and Daisuke would help cheer up Swansea’s sour mood during this time to help decorating and sticking tape on eachother. Swansea couldn’t even turn his back from these two unless he wanted a rough slap of tape on his work shirt

Swansea, Anya, and Daisuke were working on decorating the dining area to make the place feel more lively and get into the Christmas spirit more. It brings back memories to Swansea when the transmission TV’s were still here, he would watch his wife and kids decorate the tree. It was honestly cute seeing his kids walk up to the TV to ask daddy where he would like some of the ornaments to go on the tree.

It still made him upset that Pony Express took that luxury away, but you can���t have everything in this world.

Swansea bent down to look for more garland in the cardboard box to put on the ends of the counter, finding none left in the box. There was another box situated across from the counter over near the mascot.

Swansea saw it as no big deal, walk over, open the box, get some more garland, bada bing bada boom. It was a simple task that he could’ve done with no problem, had it not been for when as soon as he turned his back towards Anya and Daisuke, he felt a long strip of black scotch tape being slapped onto his back.

Swansea quickly turned around and looked back at the two.

The two of them were humming to themselves as they continued to decorate the area. Swansea put his hands on his hips and spoke, “Okay which one of you did that”.

Daisuke shrugged his shoulders, “Don’t know whatcha talking about Swansea” Swansea rolled his eyes at his naivety and fake innocence. Swansea's hand went back around and pulled the tape off his shirt with a loud sheer tear. “Talking about this shit”, he said sternly.

In the corner of his eye he could see a sly smirk appear on Anya's face as she snickered, turning her head away so Swansea couldn’t see the look of mischief her face had.

Daisuke answered Swansea, “Oh that? Damn, must’ve flew over to you”, with Anya adding on, “Must’ve grown hands to slap your back life that Swansea”. Both Daisuke and Anya snickered to themselves as they messed with Swansea.

Swansea’s nose scrunched up as he rocked his head side to side mocking their laughter, “So you think you can mess with ol’Swansea aye?” He asked, almost challenging like. He walked over to the table where more black scotch tape was scattered across it. He grabbed one and pulled a long black stripe from it, looking at Daisuke and Anya with a hint of mischief in his eyes now.

“You two better start running before this tape is gonna be in your nightmares”.

🌹Lets just say that a lot of tape was used that day, but it definitely did help bring Swansea’s mood up, much to Anya’s and Daisuke liking

🌹As for Curly, it was hard on him for the simple fact that back on Earth, he was a social butterfly, liked by everyone, had many friends an family that he would celebrate Christmas with. Him and Jimmy would celebrate Christmas at their family’s house, inviting one another to each one and then go out that night to drink to end the day. It was a tradition to them at that point

🌹But being up in space, with Jimmy’s new found position as a co-pilot that Curly helped him get and Curly as Captain, it felt oddly lonely. Curly wouldn’t admit it to anyone, even his best friend and Anya. Curly also had many duties as Captain, which caught him to be occupied with work after work so he couldn’t spend time with the crew and helped decorate, which just added more to the feeling of loneliness

🌹Whenever he did get the chance to take a step back from having to do work, he would check up on everyone to see how they were hanging in, always lending a helping hand with decorating, joking around. Sadly, he too was a victim to tape slapping, he was confused at first but once he realized it was a free for all, no one was safe

🌹Jimmy, however, didn’t spend much time out socializing much with the crew to his liking, if anything he despised the Christmas spirit. Only time he would come out to help, was either for Cury’s sake or for simple human interaction

🌹It was a lot different here in the Tulpar then back on Earth. His jealousy for Curly grew more and more with each passing day, seeing how the crew idolized him even for the smallest thing, seeing how eager Curly was to help them. Jimmy was in control just like Curly, but not to Curlys level, and it pissed him off to no end. How could he be so happy? Jimmy always wondered, questioning Curly’s mental strength of control on this ship

🌹It’s not like Jimmy felt excluded, Daisuke would always try to joke and invite Jimmy along with Curly, but god did he despise everyone on this ship for some reason or another

🌹When Christmas day finally arrived, everyone was in the dining room and lounge area. Anya and Curly were in charge of making food and drinks, mostly Curly, as most of which had to be done through Captain authorization. Curly was able to find in the deep cupboards of the cabinets an old recipe book that contained holiday recipes both food and drink

🌹He made a quick thing of ham and mashed potatoes, not the most lavished or the most tasteful that the crew has tasted, but it was good nonetheless and added more to the Christmas mood. He also made some eggnog, surprisingly as they had the resources for such. It was Daisuke’s first time trying eggnog and his last time, he didn’t enjoy the taste as much as he thought but he kept telling himself it’s good

🌹The crew sat in the lounge area after eating, drinking eggnog and conversing, discussing old Christmas stories of theirs back at home and folktales that ol’ Swansea might remember

🌹“I’m not that old, i’m not a fucking dinosaur” Swansea kept telling Daisuke who kept asking about Christmas folktales like Swansea was some magical being

🌹Anya would tell stories of how her and her mother always went downtown for the Chritsmas parade after eating and opening presents. Anya loved taking photos of the wintery scene as people in jollyful clothes and jingle bells. She would talk about how that parade had real life reindeer and how the people in the parade would give the onlookers carrots to feed them. She giggled back on the memories of where the reindeers lips would tickle her hand as they took their carrots out of her grasp

🌹Curly reminiscence on the times with him and Jimmy celebrating Christmas at both of their parents house, mostly at Curlys. Curly has a huge family, so a lot of gift wrapping paper would be scattered all over the floor, making a huge pile. His family’s dog would jump in and out of the pile having zoomies, they always said that Christmas day was ‘Sammy’s’ favorite day. And after that, the family would play game after game. Curlys siblings themselves were very competitive during these, which led to arguments spurring out during games like go fish -yeah, that competitive

🌹Jimmy didn’t add much to it, only chuckling and adding on to Curlys tales of him and Jimmy back on Earth, adding onto his stories from his point of view or a forgotten detail. It was almost surreal seeing Jimmy have a genuine chuckle over something that he liked and enjoyed

🌹This is one of only a few times, where the crew felt like a crew, a moment where they would all chill and lay back and have a fun time with each other. However, all good things come to an end, don’t they

[thehereticdiaries]

A (Not So) Meet Cute: Chapter Four

Summary: You settle into the dorm. You drop a bunch of your lore during dinner. Minho takes you to meet a lawyer. Seungmin is pissing off his managers. He comes up with a solution.

Warnings: Nothing too bad this chapter, mentions of the US foster care system, lawyers, talking about the stalker

Series Masterlist

Your dreamless nap was interrupted by someone shaking your shoulder. You groaned and swatted at whoever woke you up.

“Ow! Y/N, dinner is ready. You need to eat.” You blinked up at Jeongin. At some point during your nap, Jisung was replaced by Changbin as your pillow. You huffed and dropped your forehead to his thigh. 

“Come on, you’ll feel better after you eat,” Changbin laughed and patted your shoulder. Reluctantly, you stood and let Jeongin drag you to the kitchen. You sat at the table between Felix and Hyunjin, much to Seungmin’s annoyance. Minho and Chan were the last to sit after bringing in some side dishes and bottles of tea. The boys added more and more food to your plate, to the point where you had to smack their chopsticks away with your own.

“So where is Y/N going to sleep?” Jisung asked around a mouthful of broccoli. 

“Stop talking with food in your mouth,” Minho pinched the younger boy’s arm. Jisung hissed and rubbed the reddened skin.

“She could probably take one of our b–”

“No,” you interrupted Seungmin. “You’re already helping me enough, I refuse to kick one of you out of your own bed.” 

“You don’t have to, we have an air mattress. It fits in my room or we can put it in the living room,” Chan offered as a compromise. You took a moment to consider the options.

“I would prefer being in a room. I don’t like being out in the open like that,” you admitted. “As long as I won’t be in the way.” Chan shook his head.

“Nah, we’ve done it before when my sister visited. Jeongin and I share the room. Is that alright with you?”

“I don’t mind,” you confirmed and dug back into your dinner. For a few minutes, you ate in silence. It felt rather peaceful, until Hyunjin spoke up.

“Are you pressing charges against that guy?” You sighed at his question, pushing a piece of chicken around your plate.

“I want to, but I don’t think I can afford it.” You refused to look up from your plate. You were embarrassed to tell an idol group about your financial troubles.

“I know you said your family was kinda far, but would they be willing to help cover the expense?” Seungmin further questioned. Your forehead dropped to your hands.

“This is a little difficult for me to talk about,” you started. After a few deep breaths, you continued. “I grew up in the US foster system. Once I turned 18, I aged out and was sent out on my own. I got a job and managed to get through college. The social worker in charge of my files gave me all of my paperwork, and I found out that I have family in Korea. So I spent the next couple of years saving up money and learning Korean so I could move here. I only met my family a year ago. My grandmother is hesitant to accept me, but I’ve built a decent relationship with my uncle and cousins. I don’t feel comfortable asking them for that kind of money.”

“Damn, you’re incredibly resilient. I don’t think I could’ve done it,” Felix squeezed your shoulder. You glanced up at him with a small smile.

“You’re the first person that hasn’t immediately apologized. I hate when people pity me, so thank you.” The blonde moved his hand to your other shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.

“I think I can help,” Minho stated and looked up from his phone.

“I am not letting you pay for a lawyer.” Your eyes narrowed at him. He rolled his eyes.

“That’s not what I meant. My cousin is a lawyer. I texted her and she confirmed that if you went to her agency, you would get a lower rate and have the option to set up a payment plan.” You sat up straight, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“You’re serious? She’s willing to take my case?” You couldn’t believe just how lucky you were to have met these boys.

“My cousin is a personal injury lawyer. She doesn’t take on these kinds of cases, but she has a coworker that’s a general practice lawyer that can help,” he explained. “She said we can go in on Monday, if you’re available.” You aggressively patted your pockets in search of your phone. The stars have aligned for once; you had Monday off. 

“I can do that,” you grinned. Minho nodded and turned back to his phone.

“I’ll go with you. We can go anytime between 9am and 11am.” You thanked him profusely and finished dinner with hope swelling in your chest.

Turns out, the air mattress was actually pretty comfortable. It was a little awkward living with eight men at first, but you relaxed over the weekend. You didn’t bring any nicer clothes with you to the dorms, so you insisted on stopping at your apartment for a button up, knee length a-line skirt, and Chelsea boots to wear at your meeting. You and Minho were dressed for completely different events. He wore joggers and a t-shirt since he had rehearsal later that afternoon.

“Minho! It’s so nice to see you,” a taller woman with short, dark hair greeted the idol with an excited hug. “I haven’t seen you since last Christmas, you recluse.”

“Alright, alright, we can talk about family reunions later,” Minho huffed but returned the hug. 

“You must be Y/N. Minho’s told me a lot about you,” the woman turned to you after releasing her cousin. She held her hand out to you. “I’m Chae-young.”

“All good things, I hope,” you teased and shook her hand. Chae-young’s nose scrunched up with suppressed giggles.

“Oh, trust me, he’s been singing your praises. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my baby cousin has a crush–”

“Yah! Enough!” Minho exclaimed. You hid your smile behind your hand. “Who’s taking her case, Chae-young?”

“That would be me,” a male voice piped up from behind you. A man with cropped brown hair bowed quickly and shook your hand. “My name is Seojoon. I’ve already looked over the information you sent in. I’m confident that we have enough evidence to get Mr. Cho the maximum sentencing.”

“Seojoon is one of the best general practice lawyer in our office. He’ll take good care of you,” Chae-young folded her hands behind her back. Her bright smile was very reassuring. Seojoon led you and Minho to his private office to review the terms of the contract and payment plan. You were beyond relieved that you were able to set up a monthly payment that was well within your budget. Your head pounded after nearly an hour of legal jargon, but Seonjoon’s confidence eased your nerves significantly. You collapsed face-first on the couch once you returned to the dorms.

“How did it go?” Chan popped his head into the living room when he heard the front door open. You propped yourself up on your elbows.

“It was incredibly boring, but the lawyer said we should be able to pin him with a few years in prison and a hefty fine, plus a restraining order,” you summarized everything Seojoon explained to you. 

“That’s great news! Do you know when you’ll be in court?” Chan glared at Minho, who was staring at your legs where your skirt slightly rode up. You turned with furrowed brows, but the second eldest was already heading for the kitchen. 

“Uhh,” you hesitated, eyes trailing after Minho in his hasty retreat. “No, I don’t have a date yet. Seonjoon has to coordinate with the detective.”

“Is Seonjoon the lawyer?” Seungmin appeared behind his leader. 

“Yes, and he’s certain he can win my case.” You tilted your head at Seungmin’s annoyed hum. 

“Good, that’s good,” he quickly fixed his attitude when Chan’s elbow dug into his ribs. 

“Uuuuh huh.” First Minho and now Seungmin. They were acting weird today, but you let it go for the time being. You had other issues to worry about.

Over the next couple days, the boys, and especially Seungmin, grew more and more protective. It reached the point where one of them stayed by your side for your entire shift at the bookstore. They never let you argue with them, but you were growing concerned. You knew for a fact they were missing schedules. Today, Seungmin sat on a stool behind the register counter while you restocked shelves. He’d been glaring at his phone for the better part of twenty minutes. You could only assume he was arguing with someone based on his speed and aggression when he typed.

“Y/N, you said you went to college, right?” You peeked around the shelf that stood between the two of you.

“I did, why?”

“What’s your degree?” You placed your stack of books on a cart so you could stand in front of the idol.

“I have a Bachelor of Arts in recording arts and production. My original plan was to work in music production before life got in the way.” Seungmin raised his eyebrows, but stayed silent. You watched him for a minute before returning to your cart.

When it was time to go to bed later that night, you were met with a mostly closed door. You raised a hand to knock, not wanting to walk in on Chan or Jeongin if they were indecent. 

“You can’t keep this up, Seungmin.” You paused at Chan’s scolding tone. “I know you want to help Y/N, but you’re going to get in major trouble if you keep ditching rehearsals.” You couldn’t see them from where you stood, and you knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t walk away after hearing your name.

“What, I’m just supposed to leave her by herself?” Seungmin scoffed. “Dude, she was being stalked and her stalker might have people following her still.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Chan retorted. You leaned against the wall next to the doorframe, gripping an elbow in your hand. “You’re worried. The rest of us are, too. But you’re being paranoid. We can’t be with her 24/7, it’s not fair to her or to us.”

“No, I know that–”

“Do you? Cus to me, it seems like if it were up to you, you’d keep her hidden away in the dorms. You can’t expect her to go along with that. She has a job, Seungmin. She has a life outside of us.” A heavy silence hung in the air after the leader’s speech. You squeezed your eyes shut and let your head drop to the wall. This is exactly what you were trying to avoid. 

“What if she works at JYP?” You straightened up at Seungmin’s suggestion. 

“What are you talking about, Seungmin,” Chan voiced your own confused thoughts.

“I kind of already talked to our manager. Y/N has a degree for audio production. They’re willing to hire her for an entry level position,” the younger boy admitted. Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Chan sighed for a concerningly long time.

“I can’t lie, that is a good idea. But you should have talked to me and her about this before asking our manager,” Chan begrudgingly agreed. “Do you have any other details?”

“She’d be an entry level recording engineer. She’d be able to either ride with us or have her own driver to get to and from the company. We’d be allowed to check in with her throughout the day, but she won’t be allowed to work on our music. Chances are she’d be working with Itzy, Nmixx, or Xrdinary Heroes,” Seungmin explained everything he knew in one breath. 

“Alright. We can talk to Y/N about it tomorrow.” Absolutely not, you were talking about this right now.

“You don’t have to, I heard everything,” you stepped into the room, hiding halfway behind the door. Their heads snapped over to you. The intensity in their eyes had you shrinking further behind the door.

“Y/N, let me –”

“Is the offer real?” You interrupted Seungmin, looking between the two. “You’re saying I can really work at JYP?”

“Yes, it’s a real offer. Our manager is going to talk to the production staff about getting your contract set up, he was just waiting for you to accept the position,” Seungmin confirmed. You stood in a stunned silence until a sob bubbled up from your throat.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Please don’t feel pressured, you don’t have to do anything.”

“Chan,” you stopped the leader’s frantic rambling. The two watched you attempt to collect your thoughts. You couldn't find the words to express your feelings, so you rushed forward to engulf Seungmin in a crushing hug. He made a noise in the back of his throat that you didn’t even try to decipher. Your arms tightened around his waist, knocking him out of his stupor. 

“I’m sorry, I should have asked you first. I totally understand if you’re angry,” Seungmin apologized and tentatively wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“God, you seriously don’t know how to read the room,” you laughed against his collarbone. “I am the furthest thing from angry right now, I can’t believe you actually got me a job!” 

“You’ve been working so hard your whole life. You deserve it,” Seungmin mumbled into your hair and pressed you further into his chest. Chan cleared his throat, reminding you that he was also in the room. You untangled from Seungmin, who grunted in protest, to give Chan a hug too.

“I’ll let our manager and the other boys know. It’s late, you should get some sleep. I’m sure there will be a lot for you to do tomorrow.” Chan pulled back and squeezed your shoulders.

“Okay. Goodnight, guys, and thank you for everything.” They called back with their own ‘goodnight’ as Chan pulled the door shut. Even though you had excitement buzzing throughout your body, you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here @corgilover20 @eastjonowhere @bookswillfindyouaway

Series Taglist: @popcatx0 @estella-novella @ihrtlix @bookishcaptain @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @xxeiraxx @dreamerwasfound @galaxy4489 @riri53 @ddaycoming

[balkanradfem]

Fixing pants with overly-tight waistband

So, I accidentally found some warm winter pants in a box under my bed! I was extremely happy to find them because I've been out in freezing temperatures in jeans, my legs getting red and irritated from the cold. However, these pants I found, there's something interesting about them; they've got their waistband completely cut off.

I have no memory of cutting that off, but I'm 100% sure it was me, because I know what my line of thinking was. The waistband was too tight, and the pants were high-waisted, so I thought, hey, I just need to cut off this tight part and then the pants will be wearable. And then, after I cut if off, I found out, that no, you can't just cut off the piece of pants that keeps them on your body. They slide off. So after that bold move I just abandoned them in a box. I had no confidence that I could fix them, but this has changed! I am not any better at sewing than I was back then, but my confidence is through the roof, I believe I can not only fix this but make them the most comfortable pair of pants I own.

I rummaged around to find some materials I could use for a new waistband, and I was purposefully picking materials that are very stretchy, soft and warm. I want a soft stretchy waistband! I ended up being specifically drawn to these 2 black sleeves; they're from a sweater, super warm and stretchy, and also durable. I also found an elastic that I ripped out of some sweatpants in the past because it was too tight.

I decided to make the elastic longer by adding a piece of cotton fabric in the middle, and I sewed that together, I feel like it doesn't matter if there's some normal cloth in there. It won't be visible anyway.Now, to make those sleeves into a waistband. I figured out I could do it without cutting them into pieces of fabric; they're already sewn into tubes. So instead I cut them to be the same length as my elastic, and sewed them together into one long tube (I made a mistake at first and flipped one sleeve on the wrong side. But I redid it and now they're good).

Now my long tube can hold the elastic in it! But then I decided, wait, I would prefer if I just folded those tubes into a new, doubly thicker tube, because I really want as many warm layers as possible on my hips (don't wanna get cold). So the tube is folded, and elastic is placed in.

So now I needed to sew these sleeves into a new tube, with the elastic inside, and I figured, hey, I could just sew them onto the pants at the same time, so I don't have to sew that part multiple times.

I lined up the tube with the pants, and you can see I very haphazardly just sewed them on with a normal running stitch; I was mostly doing that to try it out, and see how it would look like all put together. I then sewed the elastic together in a circle, and closed the tubes together as well. The waistband at this point was shorter in length than the cut off hem of the pants, so I was lightly scrunching the pants while sewing, to match the length, knowing once I put them on this will not be visible and even out. Then I tried them on, and while it looked okay, my running stitch came apart, and the waistband separated!

You can see here how half of the waistband is off. I was so focused on scrunching the pants I forgot to make the stitch adjusted to the stretchy fabric.

I know sewing machines have a special stitch that is used on stretchy fabric so the stitch itself is stretchy, but I never found out how to do something like that by hand, and I was at that point, in a room with no internet so I wasn't gonna find out. Instead, I invented my own little stitch that would do a good-enough job. In the second picture you can see how every few stitches, there's thread just going around the edge, that was my trick. This way, when I'm stretching the waistband, instead of the thread breaking, it will pull from these areas where I've wrapped it around, because it's a bit more loose in there and can be tightened without breaking. I've also sewn it in 4 sections, so its not one continuous thread going through the same waistband.

Once I did that, I was mostly done! Here's the pants mended and how they look on me.

I've converted them into sweatpant-like garment, which, yes, good. But! I was wrong about one thing. That elastic, even though I added some length on it, was still too tight, making me feel uncomfortable and tight. So. I opened up the waistband again. Pulled the elastic out. Stitched it back, and tried it on. And decided to keep it like that. This fix didn't need an elastic, I was just paranoid that my new waistband wouldn't hold without one – but it was stretchy and firm enough to hold without any issues! They look just the same as with the elastic in them. I've since worn them outside and they're great!

This entire fix maybe took an hour and now I have comfortable pants to wear all winter. 10/10 recommend trying it out.

Also this is not an official way how to fix a waistband, I've done it before by just adding extra fabric to the waistband that was already there, and it's a lot less work, however... this works too. If you've.. chaotically cut the whole waistband off. Completely salvageable.

[storge]

Story of Kunning Palace (2023)

[spotaus]

Hi guys, this is usually what a doodle page ends up looking like <3 (oh, and @ancha-aus thought you might like this! Not writing but certainly fuel to my fire lol-)

This one is New Age filled!!! (Close-ups abd Lore beneath the cut!)

1) Night and Cross!

Night is actually very clingy once he's a teen. He doesn't usually realize it, but around the castle he'll snake to be closer to his Knights so long as there's no one he needs to keep his composure infront of is nearby. Cross is the one who's not used to physical touch (when it's not Ink ofc) so Night in his personal bubble makes his heart melt but also scares tf out of him <3

2) Error and Night's Meeting!

Error was carrying his whole life on his back and trying not to get arrested for unintentional property damage at this point, so when he saw the chance to get back at his brother and prove he was strong enough? Yeah, he got that on chance instantly. And was VERY smug when Nightmare chose him. (Also, Error is wearing gloves, so less Haphephobia)

3) Dream and Blue designs!

I think these are good tentative designs! Dream probably has a more regal fit, but he likes to play up that rugged exile look- He's inspired by Archers, while Blue takes on that classic Knightly-vibe. Their equipment is mostly stolen from Night's troops or brought with them from Blue's home kingdom.

Also, Dream is approx Killer's height at this point, shorter than Cross and *much* shorter than Apple!Nightmare. (Hc that Skeletons tend to be tinier in stature thanks to weird monster beauty standards. Horror and Geno's fam are outliers.)

4) Horror and Dust designs!

Horror is naturally a very *large* monster. He's very malnourished when Nightmare meets him, but by the time he's a Knight Nightmare has made sure that's no longer the case. He actually loves comfy, simple clothes, but to play up the whole 'strong mysterious' bit he wears a more barbaric Knight's garb. He doesn't mind acting scary, it's more fun that way :]. Dust is very very small, and envies horror sometimes for his size, but his tiny stature let's him control his body and move a lot quicker. He's very much based on a rogue, and usually covers the lower part of his face w/ a black cloth, and the upper part w/ his hood or mask. Dust only removes both to bathe, eat, or relax in a safe location. (Ignore that I can't draw the stupid gaster blaster lmao-)

These last two were space-fillers, but Cross and his Borzoi (Windmill, otherwise known as Milly (Killer named her-)) and really bad first wips of Ccino! I think Ccino was a chubby, happy toddler, but lost a lot of 'weight' (bone mass? Magic?) due to stress and pressure and bad eating habits. So it isn't until a while after the Coronation that he starts to relax abd feel safe enough to eat normal meals (Nightmare used to guilt him into eating snacks together, but as his boss (and younger brother) he can encourage it more often). By the time Killer shows he's still not quite healthy, but he's better. As more weight is lifted off his shoulders, the better he is. (That 'beauty' most people saw was a more stereotypical slimness, but Killer never stopped seeing Ccino as beautiful-) I think he never looked traditionally underweight, so no one noticed, and it was only much later that Night processed it. (And maybe it's why Dream hardly recognized him later on-)

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

This week on "CJ needs to gush about DAO": Morrigan's dark ritual.

I adore Origins because depending on how serious you take roleplay, every decision you make is a thread that leads back to your origin, and in this case of the ritual, who you choose to romance can have a major impact on how you handle this choice.

For context, my canon run is with a female Tabris who romances Alistair and keeps him as a Grey Warden, and is close friends with Morrigan. It's more in character for my Tabris to reject Morrigan's ritual and not even bring it up to Alistair, which would result in her leaving him behind while she makes the ultimate sacrifice in killing the archdemon... however, agreeing to convince Alistair to do the ritual with Morrigan is the only choice in the entire game where I break roleplay because I'm selfish and weak and I want Tabris to live.

I have a lot of strong feelings about the ritual, like it hurts me. It makes me want to chew on furniture. I can talk about it until I can talk no more. I so badly want to be strong enough to remain in character and reject the ritual.

Let me explain: Tabris survives an origin that deals with sexual assault. She gets kidnapped on her wedding day, she watches the other kidnapped women and her husband get murdered, and then is too late to save Shianni from being assaulted... and Tabris carries that trauma with her throughout the entire game.

If the way to save her life is to ask the two most important people she cares about; one being her lover and the other being her best friend; who she knows hate each other, to have dubiously consensual sex in order to make a baby to absorb the old god soul... she's saying no. The last thing Tabris would ever do is put someone into a sexual situation where consent is at all dubious after what she saw happen to Shianni and nearly happened to herself. She'd rather die than force that upon Alistair and Morrigan.

That's what I mean when I say origin affects everything; I know some will side eye that with "Really? Your warden would rather die than let Alistair sleep with another woman? It's one time, and Alistair agrees to it, so no one needs to die?"

Let me be clear in saying this isn't a "Morrigan slept with my man" issue. Sure, that part's awkward and it sucks, but that's not even breaking water tension, let alone diving into the deep waters to the core of the issue.

For my Tabris, this is about betrayal, consent, and accepting fate.

The person offering Tabris this deal is someone she thought of as a trusted friend who has actually been lying to her the entire time. It doesn't matter what Morrigan's intentions are now or if she genuinely wants to save the wardens. She knew from the beginning why Flemeth sent her with them, she admits as much. She knew a warden would need to make the ultimate sacrifice and then leveraged that to get what she wants. Morrigan waited until the night before, when Alistair and the warden learn one of them has to die to defeat the archdemon, and took advantage of the high running emotions and possibly the fear of dying to make the warden agree to her ritual.

At least, that's how my Tabris interprets this confrontation. She feels betrayed by someone she came to love like a sister and went out of her way to help Morrigan with her mother upon learning what's in Flemeth's grimoire. And then that someone tells her no one needs to die, she just needs to convince Alistair to sleep with her... which is a huge fucking problem.

The Alistair and Tabris romance is slow; it took a long time for either of them to be comfortable with being emotionally vulnerable and trusting each other with basic intimacy, let alone sex. Tabris is mortified at the idea of putting Alistair in this situation. Not only would it feel like a betrayal on her part to ask that of him, but she knows the last thing Alistair ever wants to do is father a bastard who then goes on to grow up without him. How could she possibly ask him to do that?

Then you consider that ritual or no, there isn't a guarantee that they'll survive anyway. Say they do the ritual and Tabris dies anyway; she made Alistair sleep with Morrigan in order to save her and then she died anyway. Or if Alistair dies then Tabris gets to live with the fact that the last person Alistair was with was a woman he hates because she asked that of him… and either way, Morrigan gets to walk away with what she wanted.

Tabris led the group, and she's accepted that if Riordan dies [which he does] then she'll be the one to make the sacrifice, even if it means breaking both hers and Alistair's heart.... except she doesn't because I'm a coward who doesn't want to lose her because my worldstate isn't good without her in it but I also refuse to lose Alistair so I just pretend it plays out differently in my head it's fine-

But... that's how I play Tabris and view the situation. My friend @pi-creates and I have discussed the dark ritual at length. While I play a Tabris who romances Alistair, Pi plays a Mahariel who romances Morrigan, so we have vastly different interpretations of the ritual itself and Morrigan's intentions.

Which yeah, it makes total sense that someone who romanced Morrigan with a different origin, and has the option to do the ritual with her rather than asking someone else to do it, wouldn't see this the way I do.

To quote Pi: "Playing as a male warden in the Morrigan romance makes the whole situation feel different, and maybe it’s because she’s presenting it differently due to the emotional connection, but it feels more like she’s opening up about her initial instructions (that she had been given by Flemeth) and offering a solution to avoid the possibility of death. And for my Mahariel, the constant threat of sudden death has haunted him from the start – he caught the blight and was ripped away from his clan (something he did not want to do in the slightest), got forced into a Grey Warden ritual that could kill him, was forced into a battle that could kill him, going on this whole quest that he never wanted but has now become responsible for regardless of his thoughts on the matter… the dark ritual may be one of the few moments where he is presented with an option to decide if he wants to walk into certain death, or take actions of his own volition to stop it.

"The idea of the ritual still feels like a dodgy thing to do since the ultimate outcome is unknown at that point, he’s taking Morrigan at her word that it will save the warden and that this child would be unharmed, just with an old god soul that she isn’t exactly clear on why she wants that and is determined to runaway immediately after the battle to secure it properly. It could be interpreted that it’s purely a preservation thing, but I’m biased to wanting Morrigan's intentions to not be power based.

"But also, taking part in the ritual isn’t as outlandish for my warden since he and Morrigan have already been involved in an intimate relationship. It’s the future of the ritual that is scarier – the idea of this old-god baby, and the idea of Morrigan insisting that she’s leaving afterwards when Mahariel and her have a loving relationship. He’s hurting, but he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want Alistair to die, he doesn’t want Morrigan to leave, he definitely doesn’t want pregnant Morrigan to leave on her own… it’s complicated, but for completely different reasons."

And I find that fascinating. I want to know how other players approach this part of DAO, what origins they play, and who they romanced. Seriously, this is an invitation to anyone reading to share their thoughts.

What about a warden who doesn't even have Alistair in their party because they made Loghain a warden? Is there anyone out there who has Loghain do the ritual with Morrigan and why? What about male wardens who don't romance her? Do you choose to do it with her anyway, or do you ask Alistair or Loghain to do it? Do you tell Morrigan to fuck off with the ritual? Why? Who makes the ultimate sacrifice in that case? And what about Morrigan herself? How do you interpret her intentions/motivations? I want to know.

I'm telling you, this is a discussion that gets me excited, as most discussions about DAO do.

[dairyfreenugget]

(Going insane boinkinh one AU in my head)

Hey hey hey

May I interest you in

(Slowly slides my FaaF AU towards you but void just Disappears without a trace one day before the accolade)

Teehee