#even when!!!! that kind of devotion and love could easily be taken advantage of but just KNOWING theyd never do that to you

[the-puppet-show]

hey anyone wanna think about gay stickmen with me? awesome

*thinks about how reginald, a man who literally overthrew the last leader of the toppat clan, trusts his rhm so much that he places his entire life in right's hands repeatedly with no hesitation, in an environment that promotes backstabbing and betrayal*

[amuhav]

1, 2, 3, 5, 13, 23 for E T H E T H

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

I think Eth is second only to Iskaeya when it comes to the privilege of not experiencing too many outright negative memories. He was born not that long after his mother's taking the throne, or not long into his parents' marriage. An only child long enough to have a loving childhood with both parents, with their full devotion, in which he watched and admired as they took a grieving and fractured kingdom and brought it back into the era of complacency it now enjoys. He's also very pragmatic, so he's not the type to believe in "forgetting" uncomfortable truths. To deal with the reality set before you. So even the eventual disillusionment of realising his parents aren't perfect, or the knowledge he will never be either of their favourites... those are things he's taken in stride.

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

I dunno, a lot of Eth is very on the surface lmao. He's as prideful as he appears, if not more so. He's logical, efficient, and unidealistic. He's extremely unromantic lmao. He has an immaculate level of control over his temper and it would take something monumental to provoke it. He doesn't suffer fools easily, nor incompetence. That said. He isn't quite as cold as he appears. He can be softer in the comfort of privacy, and he deeply cares about the future of his people. He's not a diehard traditionalist, in fact he abhors traditions that lay in the way of progress. And he's not purposely cruel. Contrary to Tay's assumptions, Eth doesn't actually hate either of his brothers, not really. They just... kinda both unfortunately fall into the categories of "fool" or "incompetent" sksksksk oop. If anything, he's actually harsher with Ailos, because he really finds him aggravating in personality and behaviour, and Eth has to constantly clear up his messes. Whereas he and Tay are so far removed from each other that Tay is almost nothing to him, except a thing he doesn't really know how to deal with. They're too far apart in age to have ever had a chance to connect while Tay was young, and too far apart in the social hierarchy to do so now. Kae won't let Eth or anybody else give Tay a purpose, and so to Eth, he just kind of... exists... troublesomely. Over there. Making problems for their parents. With not a whole lot he can do about it.

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

Flaw? EXCUSE YOU?? FLAW?? the fucking AUDACITY. Eth is perfect, you monster. Okay. lmao. With that out of the way. As I said, he's very unidealistic and unromantic, especially on a personal level, and he doesn't really respect understand those who won't see things the same way. He sees his father as lacking a backbone in not standing his ground, but he also doesn't understand why Qariel "coddles" Tay either. He sees Ailos as hedonistic with no real interest in understanding why he acts the way he does, why he doesn't just grow out of it and settle down into an advantageous marriage, as should be expected of him. He thinks his mother was naïve in her "mistake" of refusing to arrange any marriages for her children, for promising them all self-determination in that regard. Though he recognises Kae's pathological need to keep Tay "safe" hasn't helped him, he still thinks Tay has never really tried to step up to his role as a royal, that he could do so if he had any strength of character. Eth is just... not much of a nuance guy when it comes to sentiment or sympathy. And he knows this about himself... I'm just not sure he sees it as a flaw lmao. But when any plans fall apart because people are fundamentally people and react with emotion and not logic, he often gets blindsided.

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

Hm. He's never really had to want for anything. His ambition is to be a good king when his time comes, but he's patient and isn't the type to play dirty. He has principles he wouldn't betray simply to "win". Stemming from that unromantic and unsentimental personality, though, there are things he's willing to do or put aside for the sake of "the greater good" that others might not. Marry for politics and not for love, for example. And yet, as infuriating as he finds Ailos, however pesky Eilayna is, or even as much as a burden as he might see Tay as, he has no intention of seeing them hurt or disowned, and has in fact been doing all he can to stop that in Ailos' case. Like, he's not willing to screw innocent people over just to get ahead. At least, not in ways he would consider screwing them over...

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

LOL HELP. I don't even know if that would be an option. Eth would just walk past me like I was entirely non-existent, maybe a mote of dust at best. Like. MAYBE assuming I was worthy and important enough to be equal in his company... Honestly probably not lmao. I don't deal well with people who are either too uptight or too sure of their own superiority over everyone else, and I would either be too much of an awkward turtle to even have the courage to talk to him, or be far too chaotic and annoying for him lmao.

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

wcif emotions. lmao. I half joke but... Eth doesn't really express many emotions outwardly, but he also doesn't really get all that emotional in general lol. He doesn't really get upset, nor angry just... annoyed and stressed and then gets on with it. He doesn't dwell on happiness, just the satisfaction of a job well done, or the enjoyment of personal pursuits. Though there was a time when he had to wonder if infant Tay might be a threat to him politically, he's not the type to dwell on jealousy either. He's not unfeeling. It's not that he struggles to process emotions, either, it's just that he handles them very logically, or simply doesn't acknowledge them. I suppose love? Eth doesn't really have much of an understanding of it, even though he was shown it unconditionally as a child. By his standards he does love his family, otherwise, he simply wouldn't care about them. It's just not something quantifiable he can put his finger on, nor something he consciously factors into his decisions.

[jenthetranskitsune]

Anger

[TW: minor description of gruesome murder, nothing very detailed but it's probably important that I mention it] I haven't ever posted my writing here before but uh, yeah, i hope you like it. I killed someone today, I haven't done that in a long time. Maybe if I keep telling myself that he deserved it, it'll make it easier.

Even if he really didn't.

She was an Oak, that one he cut down. Mortals, they need the wood. The tree spirits understand that. I understand that.

So why did I get so angry, why couldn't I stop myself? Why did I break his head open with the axe he used on her?

We had been together for nearly three centuries, surely that was long enough. Surely I should feel like we had enough time together. Surely I shouldn't feel like every bone in my cursed body is aching for her embrace again.

I feel broken without her, maybe I always was & she just let me ignore it. She'd hate me being like this. Unable to focus on anything.

That anger, I haven't felt it since I was mortal, those eons ago. Everything in my body screamed for revenge, & when I satisfied the urge, I felt nothing. Nothing but the pit of loneliness, heartbreak & something else, some emptiness I can’t quite explain

Maybe that's the burden put on us by this curse?

Maybe I should find the others, they'd understand. I can't remember their faces, but the mark should make it a little easier. I think the emptiness might be the cost. I never felt this way when I was mortal, sad? Absolutely. Angry? Like the heat of a thousand suns. But this emptiness? It's... different. I've felt emptiness when I was mortal, but it didn't feel like this. I can't explain it, but I'm sure it will drive me mad if I don't fill it soon.

I think she filled it before. That's why I never felt it before. I was enamored with her before he did this to us. Maybe her love filled the empty.

But it's gone now, I can only hope that the others found something to fill that emptiness. If they haven't... I hope there's a way to kill us. I do not like the idea of a loose, crazed, immortal. I will also need something to fill my own emptiness, I think my search will fill it for a short time, but there is only so much that curiosity can do.

I must not let my anger get the better of me again. The only thing that stopped me today was the thought of how she would react. That won't work forever. For now I shall sleep under oak trees. They will sadden me, but they will keep me calm. I will just have to deal with the grief.

The thought just crossed me. That emptiness I feel, I fear what it will lead to. Maybe I should also fear what the others will fill it with. If love could fill it for me, might some of the others have filled it with the devotion of others? Could they have sought out worshippers? Is this how gods are made? I hope not, I have dealt with the gods, they are more fickle then mortals, if one were to be created out of the curse? I shudder to think of what kind of god devotion & emptiness would create.

Perhaps I should find a way to kill the other cursed ones. But if I find one of the others seeking worship, I must be ready to keep a careful watch of the others. If one could not resist that temptation for a few centuries, how might the rest of us resist for eternity?

I do not like the idea of watching the others for eternity, but someone must. Our immortality could easily be taken advantage of, enough training & you could become a master at anything, the idea of a master of everything unnerves me. If one of us spent long enough lying to mortals, they might become so good that they trick themselves.

I must also be careful to keep from becoming known among the mortals as well. It would not be helpful if when I make sure the others don't seek out worshippers, I accidentally gain them myself. There already was a watcher goddess before, she may have died but people are annoyingly good at justifying anything they want. They may think I am her reincarnation or something of the sort.

I'm rambling too much, but this is a journal, I guess that's what it's for. That reminds me, I once met the deity of... librarians I think? They were one of the few reasonable ones. Anyways, they told me of the time one of their journals got lost & into the hands of a small cult, they took it as a religious text. That better not happen to my journal. Or journals? I don't write in this journal that often but even then, it's nearly filled. I guess I'll need more soon. Perhaps I should create a library as well, there are many books I had wanted to read, hopefully not too many of them have been lost to time.

That idea... It feels good. Perhaps I could create the greatest library in the world. I could dedicate it to her. She would like that I think. She always loved the books I bought her from my travels. I could build it out of stone, have scribes make copies of all the books & scrolls I find. Put some of the copies in vaults across the continent.

Perhaps watching the other cursed ones could be something I do on the side. This library idea sounds filling, it might even fill the empty. After all, there's not much point in making sure the others don't go insane from the empty if I don't make sure I also stay sane.

Yes, I have decided, that is what I shall do, I shall create a great library & name it after her. I will work to save as many works as I can, & I shall do it in her name. Dianthea shall become the best library in the world, I will work for eternity to ensure it. Dianthea was a beautiful Oak spirit, & I will make sure her name lives on forever.

[pugugly001]

Title: A Prisoner's Curse

The enemy leader had been taken prisoner by the Witch-Queen of Axenne. He was marched off to her Royal Prison, Fort Ardor, where he expected to face a trial and possible execution for his crimes against her kingdom.

But instead of facing justice, he faced something far more sinister. The Queen had devised an insidious curse that would slowly break him down until he became nothing more than a slave in her service. She called it the "Lovecraftian Curse". It worked by implanting in him a deep fetish for women's boots and legs.

At first, he resisted with all his might but as time went on the desire became too strong and soon enough he'd find himself helplessly aroused whenever confronted with female feet or calves encased in leather or latex boots.

One day while being held at Fort Ardor, one of the Queen's royal guards entered his cell - a beautiful woman named Kalia with long black hair cascading down her shoulders and standing tall above him at 6 foot 2 inches - wearing thigh high ruby red latex boots polished to perfection that gleamed like rubies in the light from outside his cell window. She laughed mockingly at him as she sauntered towards him knowing full well what effect she was having on him just from seeing those shiny red boots encasing her shapely calves .

"How does it feel now? All your strength leaving you little by little every time I come around? You can't resist me anymore can you?" She teased as she drew ever closer until finally stopping right next to him so close that even without touching them both were aware of each other's body heat radiating between them like electricity through their skin..

He tried desperately not to become aroused but failed miserably when suddenly overwhelmed by an intense craving for those ruby red latex boots pressed up against his body; His heart racing wildly out of control as if possessed by some kind of dark magic...

Kalia smiled devilishly looking into his eyes before leaning forward planting a single hypnotic kiss on is lips causing instant arousal flooding through every nerve ending throughout his entire body making it almost impossible for any sane thought process let alone speech....

Title: Possessed By Her Kisses.

The enemy leader's captor, Kalia, had him completely under her spell now. He was at her mercy and no longer wanted to resist the growing feelings of arousal that engulfed his entire body whenever she was around.

Kalia knew she had broken him down enough for now and decided to leave him be for a while before coming back again with yet another wave of lovecraftian curse if he should dare disobey her orders or even attempt to escape from Fort Ardor.

But in the meantime, she couldn't help but enjoy torturing him with her presence; Smiling devilishly as she watched his eyes follow every movement of hers like a lovesick puppy begging for attention. She loved teasing him by slowly blowing kisses towards his face making sure never to touch lips in order not to break the powerful spell of hypnosis that kept this man enslaved forever...

It seemed almost cruel how easily he surrendered himself willingly just so he could experience more pleasure through submission and Kalia enjoyed it immensely knowing full well what kind of hold she had over this prisoner....

Title: Bewitched By Her Spell.

The enemy leader had been completely bewitched by the Witch-Queen's royal guard, Kalia. He was no longer capable of thinking rationally and instead simply followed her orders with devoted obedience that bordered on servitude.

Kalia knew she had him in her power now and decided to take full advantage of it. She loved teasing him with her presence, flaunting her ruby red latex boots as if they were an extension of herself; Watching his eyes follow every movement like a lovesick puppy begging for attention.

She teased him further by slowly blowing kisses towards his face making sure never to touch lips in order not to break the powerful spell of hypnosis that kept this man enslaved forever... But finally when he could bear it no more she leaned forward planting a single hypnotic kiss on is lips causing instant arousal flooding through every nerve ending throughout his entire body making it almost impossible for any sane thought process let alone speech....

Title: Betrayal For Her Pleasure.

The enemy leader was now at the mercy of Kalia's whims; His mind clouded by desire for her ruby red latex boots and hypnotic kisses so intense that even thought seemed impossible when confronted with such pleasure.

He would do anything just to experience those sweet sensations once again and gladly betrayed information about his home kingdom - secrets he had sworn never reveal - just so she would give him permission to kneel before her feet encased in those beautiful boots eliciting feelings inside him unlike anything else ever experienced before....

But even then Kalia wasn't finished yet as she continued teasing and tormenting him until eventually granting what he desired most – total submission at the cost of betraying everything he held dear...

Title: The Ultimate Sacrifice.

The enemy leader had finally reached the ultimate point of no return; He was now completely and utterly enslaved to Kalia's whims with nothing left to lose except his sense of self. He was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice just so he could feel those ruby red boots pressed up against him one last time before surrendering himself totally into her service - body, mind and spirit.

Kalia smiled devilishly at him as she watched every movement like a cat playing with its prey, knowing full well how much pleasure this man derived from feeling helpless under her power. She leaned forward planting yet another hypnotic kiss on is lips causing instant arousal flooding through every nerve ending throughout his entire body making it almost impossible for any sane thought process let alone speech....

She whispered in his ear "You are mine now - forever" before leading him away towards an eternity of servitude at her feet....

Title: An Eternity Of Devotion.

The enemy leader had finally surrendered himself to Kalia's service; His body, mind and soul now enslaved forever by her powerful lovecraftian curse. He was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice just so he could feel those ruby red boots pressed up against him one last time before surrendering himself totally into her service - body, mind and spirit.

Kalia smiled devilishly as she watched every movement like a cat playing with its prey, knowing full well how much pleasure this man derived from feeling helpless under her power. She leaned forward planting yet another hypnotic kiss on is lips causing instant arousal flooding through every nerve ending throughout his entire body making it almost impossible for any sane thought process let alone speech....

He followed obediently behind her never once looking back at what he had lost in order to gain an eternity of devotion towards his new mistress...

----

Okay, I figured out how to

A: make open AI randomly generate details that I want to see; e.g. (named _____, _____ hair) and,

B: generate titles and continuity across chapters; 'End each prompt with a title and prompt for the next chapter'.

This is not the full prompt since I haven't figured how to train a world building dataset yet and have to include that above but it's pretty darn cool.

-----

Title and Write a long sexy story about an enemy leader prisoner named _____ subjected to lovecraftian curse that slowly over months implants a fetish for _____ that he tries to resist, but the Royal guard neme ____ with ____ hair and ____ height slowly teases him with the fetish until he's a helplessly aroused slave that will betray his friends for her and give her secrets just so she will let him become even weaker as she blows him kisses. Write dialogue of her mocking him as he tries to resist. End each prompt with a title and prompt for the next chapter.

[qwanderer]

(it's Myth Day so I'm doing Myth Things! Just a little fun [and angst] that doesn't really advance the story)

There had never been any shortage of examples in literature of men devoted to each other. From the Greeks to Sherlock Holmes, they had always been there.

The problem, Edwin thought, was that so many of the most enduring examples were parted so easily when the love of a woman came into the picture.

The one that had been stuck in Edwin's mind recently was the story of Galehaut and Lancelot.

Galehaut had been drawn to Lancelot from the start. To the way he fought, the way he moved. His knight, sometimes in red, sometimes in black. And they'd become inseparable.

But Galehaut was an outsider, and a man, and when Guinevere had become involved, Galehaut had immediately stepped aside.

Galehaut had died before his fortieth year, and not in battle. He had died because they were parted, because his heart broke that he had not been there when Lancelot had been in peril.

Edwin had noticed a few times when Charles's eyes had been drawn to the lines of a feminine figure, and Edwin knew that even now, there was a certain amount of expectation for people to adhere to the default.

If there was ever a similar opportunity for Charles, Edwin hoped he would have the grace that Galehaut had shown.

Edwin had no doubt that Charles's pledge of friendship was sincere, that it represented something enduring.

After all, even Galehaut and Lancelot were buried beside each other.

But they were still buried.

—

Aadhya Rowland remembers the first time she heard the tale of Savithri and Satyavan. As a small child, it had seemed so romantic and wonderful. Savithri could have her choice of any man she wanted, and she chose Satyavan, despite the curse he was prophesied to fall prey to.

Savithri prayed, and sacrificed, and stubbornly stuck by Satyavan even when he fell ill, even when Yama himself came to collect him. And in the end, she saved him from his curse.

That was what love was, young Aadhya thought. A bond so strong and faithful and devoted that even the presence of death could not break it.

It didn't really occur to her then that it was the wife, of course, who made all the sacrifices. That came later, when Paul Rowland began to show his true colors, and Aadhya had to remind herself often that a wife was devoted, a wife made sacrifices. If Savithri could fast for three days, then surely Aadhya could tuck her family cookbook away and adapt her cooking to Paul's preferences.

On the rare occasion that the topic of gay people came up, she had a vague notion that a man could never love another man properly. Who would be the soft one? The devoted one? The one to make sacrifices? It wasn't in the nature of men.

It could never be as great a romance as the story of Savithri.

And then her little boy, Charles, started to grow up. And he was the sweetest boy on the face of the Earth. Capable of so much kindness, and so much stubborn sacrifice.

Things were perhaps not as simple as she'd thought.

She worried about her boy, her Charles, because such sweetness and softness might be taken advantage of. As, perhaps, hers had been.

Until Edwin Payne started to become a constant presence in the restaurant, and she watched him, watched the way he was with Charles.

Oh, she thought. They can both be the devoted one.

She didn't worry so much about him, after that.

--

End Part 2 - Masterpost

Restaurant owner / chef Charles / Food critic Edwin AU - continued!!!

Hi everyone! I just wanted to say what an incredible experience it has been seeing the chef Charles/food critic Edwin AU be so amazingly received and to have so many incredible writers collaborating with me on this! I expected the idea to get a few notes and peter out but it has taken on a life of its own and I couldn't be happier. I may or may not have gotten quite emotional about it, actually. It is truly such a joy to see everyone's different styles, writerly voices, and insights into all the different aspects of this story come together in such a beautiful synthesis to celebrate culture, food, found family, healing, and of course, the characters. <3 I'm so so so so beyond floored and honored to be working with y'all, and seeing where it continues to go! Thank you for "yes and"-ing - you are all brills!!!

Anyway, the previous reblog chain was getting SUPER long thanks to everyone's contributions (<3) so I'm gonna start a second reblog chain for everyone to reblog from!

You can read the AU from the beginning here!

The masterpost for the AU is here!

[couldyouspeakmyname]

Which shisbigumi member would be the worse to date?

I think once you're actually dating, I think most of them are pretty loyal. I think it would depend on what compromises you're willing to make. This was actually a really interesting question!

-Maeve

Downsides

Ibuki

Ibuki is loyal to the Shishigumi. At the end of the day, he knows nothing else. His priority will always be the Shishigumi. While he may love you deeply, you’re never going to be his only priority. You’d have to be comfo rtable with the idea that you’re not going to come first for him. The Shishigumi is always going to hold that number one spot. Understand that this is how it has to be, not how he wants it to be. I fully believe that even if Ibuki had been in love before he went in the tunnel, his decision wouldn’t have changed. He also is massively overprotective, and can get smothering. He doesn’t realize he’s even doing it, so you’re the one who has to sit him down and talk with him. 

Free

Free is wild. He likes living in the moment, and has terrible long term planning skills. He may die at any moment of any day, so planning ahead has never been something he has been able to do. He probably isn’t the kind of guy who dates someone and thinks about marriage, kids (adoption or otherwise), a new place to live, or anything like that. He’s also very impulsive, and violent (you can’t really take him anywhere nice). You’re probably going to always be the mature one who has to have the common sense and forethought. He’s capable of being mature and thinking things through, but he doesn’t. Why try when you never know if tomorrow will be your last day? He also is incredibly flighty.  When he realizes he might be getting into something serious, there’s a really good chance he’ll try and bail. He’ll come back, eventually, but you’re going to have to have a ton of patience. 

Dolph

He’s not great at joking around. He takes everything seriously, and is a bit paranoid. No matter where you go, he’s always looking out for some sort of danger, or potential threat (actual threats, not potential spouse thieves). He’d rather be aware, than be sorry. While Free does nothing but live in the moment, Dolph doesn’t seem to know how. Jokes tend to go over his head, and he can be quite the stick-in-the-mud. He can be quite devoted, and loyal...to a fault. While he may love you, Dolph’s loyalty always belongs to the Shishigumi. The Shishigumi is his main priority, even if it kills him (which it almost did). While he can be warm and affectionate, around strangers he’s quite aloof, so your friends may not like him right off the bat. He also over thinks, so be clear with him if you’re upset and why you’re upset. 

Agata

Agata is sweet natured, and has a good heart deep down, and unlike many of the Shishigumi, his morals are not easily shaken. These morals have gotten him hurt before. He does not have an easy time standing up for himself though, and he’s kind of easily intimidated. Agata doesn’t like conflict if he’s on the loosing side, and is sort of a doormat. If you argue, Agata will probably concede his own wants/desires/happiness to make you happy and smooth things over, which is terrible for any relationship in the long run. With Agata, it’s going to take a lot of work to help him understand that being in a healthy relationship means talking things out, even if your partner doesn’t always want to hear it. He grew up in an abusive household, where his mom was a tyrant. He doesn’t know what a healthy relationship looks like. I would argue that Agata probably would take the most work to be in a relationship with because of how easily he lets himself get taken advantage of. I can also see him being the sort of guy who could easily fall into a toxic relationship without realizing it.  

Miguel

Miguel is a strong, intimidating, guy. One of the biggest, obvious, downfalls is the fact he will probably accidently terrify most of your friends. It’s not his intention, but he doesn’t smile a lot, is big, and is kind of serious. He’s also pretty athletic, and while he can have lazy days, they’re far and few between. Dating Miguel means you can’t spend all your time on the couch doing nothing, because it will drive him crazy. He’ll probably try and get you to work out with him, and if you’re someone who hates that sort of thing..? You don’t have to be an athlete, but you have to be some level of active. Miguel also isn’t afraid to lay his life down for the Shishigumi, especially the members he’s close to (he was just okay with Melon possibly killing him in order to protect Louis). Dating Miguel means you’d also have to understand that by being the muscle of the Shishigumi, he’s also near the top of the list of members who would die first in a confrontation. 

Sabu

Sabu is older, and doesn’t mess around. If you’re dating Sabu, know he takes your relationship very seriously, so if you’re on the fence of being with him he will 110% end it with you if you go back and forth. He also isn’t much of a talker, so if you’re someone who needs to constantly be talking and need someone to respond back with just as much enthusiasm, he’s probably not the right guy for you. He can listen, and will respond, but only with one word answers. He cares, he just isn’t great at communication for idle conversation. He also doesn’t take off his face scarf in public, so he will refuse to go anywhere that would require him to remove it (no places that require a dress code). He just in general doesn’t like crowded areas, or big groups of people. He wont go out partying, go to clubs, or theme parks. He wont even go to parties with your friends if the people are over about 8-9 (including you two). It just makes him very uncomfortable. 

Jinma

The biggest problem with Jinma is that he overthinks. It’s not uncommon for Jinma to get lost in his head, and forget what you two were talking about. He doesn’t do it intentionally, but sometimes you’ll say something that triggers a thought, and his silently runs with it. He will apologize for it, but it happens a little more often that most would like. He’s also always working, so his hours are all over the place. His knowledge of the Black Market means he’s always there when major deals go down. A lot of his free time is also spent trying to learn new things and stay on top of the line of information. Despite what he may like to do, he wont actually be able to spend all his time with you. The Shishigumi comes first, even if he doesn’t want it to. 

Dope

Dope reads body language like most people read books. So one thing that can get annoying while dating him is the fact that he always brings it up when you’re upset. He wants to make it better, but sometimes you just have to be allowed to feel your feelings, even if they’re bad. You’re going to have to set boundaries (Is this a problem you want to fix? Or a problem you just want to vent about). While he’s good at reading your problems, he’s actually not great at talking about his own. He is used to being in situations where any information that can hurt you can and will be used to hurt you. He has trouble opening up. 

Hino

Hino has the most obvious problems. His good looks are used to get jobs for the Shishigumi, so publicly? He probably has to remain single. it just is better for business, and makes things easier. He will try to make it up to you, but if you’re prone to jealousy and suspicion, you may want to try a different lion. Hino also doesn’t have the energy for going out a lot, or for a lot of partying. He would prefer time alone with you, instead of spending more of his energy keeping up with others, who he may not even really like. Hino also couldn’t go out to eat anywhere close to his work or the Black Market, so whenever you do want to do anything, travel is required. While a lot of this makes a relationship difficult, Hino isn’t going to be able to be flexible about it. The Shishigumi comes first, even if that means you don’t stay with him.  He also doesn’t like to do anything dirty, so if you’re the kind of person who likes hobbies that can get your gross, Hino’s not going to go with you.

[that-goth-lokean]

This post is going to talk about death, cancer, loss of a family member, religion, and cults. If you are triggered by any of this please scroll past this.

This has taken a lot courage to say, but I was in a cult, and I’m not talking about the Church. I will admit that in this post I am going to go over the basics of what happened, please understand that things were much deeper, but right now, I can say, is not the time for it. I was once in a lokean cult. I unfortunately did not see the warning signs and had to go through a lot of healing before I could even think of beginning to post this.

About two years ago my grandmother was diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and she had only months to live. At the time I was posting comedy stuff online about being a lokean and working with Loki when an admin for a Discord server found my account and we started talking. He invited me to the server and for once I found myself in a group of people that made me felt heard and understood. Unfortunately he became ostracized and banned along with another admin, sadly I didn’t recognize that this would become a trend with the cult leaders. Eventually I became an admin and trust person in the server and cult. I was in a way the mother figure for a lot of the minors who were in this cult and server. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that, these people targeted minors, mainly neurodivergent minors who lived in hostile and abusive environments. The leaders began to limit what we could discuss and materials we used to read and research claiming that it was all too christianized and that it none of it would truly explore Loki and him as a deity. As all of this was happening my grandmother succumbed to her cancer and died. Like many I fled to my practice to grieve and mourn, this is when I was started being taken advantage of. There were mandatory meetings and when I spoke to make suggestions I was told that that wasn’t what Loki wanted. That Loki spoke through these leaders and that he was doing his will through their bodies. At this point I realized it was time to run, and so did a few of the minors in this group. Many of them reached out and unfortunately one was their next target. Their new target was not only the most kind and sweetest kid in the group, but also the most devoted. They began to out him and ostracize him. At that point I was demoted from admin and was also a suspect of going against Loki and his will. I quickly created a safe space for all of the kids and quickly told them to evacuate and that we were not gonna drink this koolaid. This all happened in the span of a year, and in that same year I had taken my godspousing oath to Loki. I was hurt and betrayed so easily and so were these kids. I worked to recover with my faith as I had tried in the past when I lost other family members and begged Loki for a sign. A very specific sign that I knew could be him, and it came the next day. I spent countless hours crying and in pain because of these people and I knew it wasn’t Loki’s will they were doing. I struggled for the last 8 months recovering, and learned a lot about cults, cult behavior and cult practices and have shared it in hopes that no one else gets tangled up in a cult. Especially like this one. Unfortunately anything can be twisted and bastardized into a cult and turned into something as volatile as this was. Please, if you suspect someone you love is in a cult and is in danger please give them a safe space and remember that this can happen to kids too. Don’t judge them and don’t criticize, provide them with love, support and a safe space to heal. Please don’t fall victim, and know that it’s okay to practice alone.

[llemonteaa]

Your daily dose of angst

No one deserves to be second best. That’s something you learnt the hard way.

Pairings: Oikawa x f!reader & Iwaizumi x f!reader 

WC: 1,769

Warnings: swearing, angst (with a little dose of fluff at the end :)  

You always wondered, even to this day, why Oikawa had chosen you in the first place. When asked what his ideal type was, Oikawa would laugh and say, “Someone who makes me look greater than I already am of course,” Cue Iwaizumi smacking him in the head.

“Mean Iwa-Chan! Fine, my ideal type would preferably be someone with fair hair, an adorable smile and a lovely ass to rest my head on. Oh, and she must also love milkbread.”

None of those boxes would be ticked for you unfortunately. Your hair was jet black and curtained part of your face, which only added to your supposedly mean aura. Your resting face was somewhat frightening and your smile could be described as Kageyama’s Cheshire Cat grin. Not to mention your ass was almost as non existent as Oikawa’s (oops), and you much preferred pork buns to milkbread. 

Yet despite that, Oikawa had asked you out one humid Friday afternoon, exactly 7 months ago today. But you realised, maybe a bit too late, that a lot can happen in 7 months.

Oikawa of course, was infamous for having fangirls practically glued to his hip wherever he went. And dating you didn’t change that in the slightest. In fact, his fangirls, especially one in particular, seemed to go up and above their way to spend time with your boyfriend, even when you were inevitably stood by his side. 

“As I was saying-” you began.

“Oikawa! I was just hoping to bump into you!” someone swatted you aside, your vision now platinum curls.

Reni. She practically threw herself onto Oikawa, bending over slightly so that he’s have a clear view of the lace panties underneath her unbelieveably short skirt. 

“Oh hey Reni. What’s up?” Your boyfriend turned to face who you called his number one, entirely devoted, fangirl.

“So, about our History project, would it be too much trouble to ask for some help? I’ve been racking my brains trying to figure it all out, even sacrificing much required beauty sleep, but I’m still yet to make any progress. And seeing how you are quite the History whizz...”

“Of course Reni, you’re the first person who’s complimented me on my brains. When would you like to meet up?” It was almost a joke how YOUR boyfriend seemed to be spending more time with a girl who had nothing but the audacity, than his s/o herself. And History whizz your ass, everyone including Iwaizumi, who had overheard that particular part of the conversation as he passed and scoffed, knew that it would be a miracle if the teacher graded him on History at all. 

“If you could, now would be a great time.” Reni fluttered her eyelashes which reminded you of rather hairy caterpillars. 

“Well I’m not doing anything as of now, apart from talking to y/n, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Right y/n?” Both pairs of eyes seemed to acknowledge you for the first time. You, the girlfriend, but at the same time you the thirdwheel, apparently. 

“Well in fact I do mind but...” you hadn’t even managed to get out before Reni used her large boobs to push you out of the way.

“You see Oikawa, y/n doesn’t mind at all. So come on now, my books are in my dorm.” 

And with that, she grabbed your boyfriend’s arm and dragged him down the hall in the direction of the girl’s dorms, Oikawa throwing a sheepish glance over his shoulder.

“We’ll resume our conversation in a bit y/n~” 

Yeah right. You’d probably forget what you were even talking to him about by the time he came back from the spawn of Satan’s hellhole. 

In the weeks that followed, you found every minute of your time alone with Oikawa accompanied by Reni. No matter where or what you were doing with your boyfriend, she always seemed to find an excuse to but it. And Oikawa was nevertheless, just as oblivious to Reni’s attempts to jump in his pants as he was to your blatant annoyance.

“But y/n you have to understand. Reni hurt her ankle yesterday during her cheerleading practise and being the kind friend I am, I had to help her make her way around school.” Your boyfriend attempted to reason with you, after you had pulled him behind the school gym where he was moments from entering. This was partially because you had desperately needed to confront him about how much time he seemed to be unnecessarily spending with Reni and also in an attempt to prevent the devil herself from seeking you guys, Oikawa specifically, out.

“No, I don’t have to understand. Reni dropped the sprained ankle act the moment she thought my back was turned. God you can be so blind sometimes.” You rubbed your eyes tiredly.

“y/n, now you’re just being unreasonable. You know I only ever spend time with Reni when she’s in need of my help. I’m simply doing what any decent friend would do.”

“Except she needs your help all the goddamn time. You could ask anyone, anyone, and they’ll tell you how Reni’s been crushing on you since way before we got together.”

“Yes, I know that, but she’s stopped liking me since I asked you out. y/n what’s so hard for you to understand?”

“Everything Oikawa, everything is so hard to understand. And yet I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand the most. Reni doesn’t ever need your help, she just wants it. And she wants it to the point where she’s willing to make up any crappy excuse to get alone with you. I’m starting to think you guys are the ones dating and I’m just the ‘friend’.”

“y/n you know that’s not true...”

“Do I know that? Do I? Because if I did, then I wouldn’t constantly need to be fighting for your attention knowing it’s always going to be a losing battle. Your there for Reni more than you’re there for me, and we’re the ones in a relationship. I’m not stopping you from seeing Reni because that would just be wrong on my behalf, but at least put some effort in Oikawa.”

“Put some effort in? Oh you must be fucking kidding me. You should be grateful I even asked you out in the first place instead of telling me to put some effort in. The difference between you and Reni is that she’s not a jealous and clingy bitch who can’t even handle her own partner from seeing his friends without kicking up a fight. I could easily dump you anyday y/n and yet I haven’t, so how about you put some effort in and stop being so fucking controlling.”

It seemed as if everything came to a standstill the moment those venomous words left his mouth. It made your eyes water and your heart clench, every syllable of ���jealous’, every syllable of  ‘controlling’, stabbed your heart to the point you wondered if you’d ever be able to piece it back together. 

Yet through the darkness a tiny flicker of light fought its way through. And that tiny flicker of light is what reminded you that not a single bit of this stupid argument was your fault. Blinking a few times, you forced yourself to bite back your tears that threatened to tumble, before clenching your fists to the point your knuckles turned white, and glowered up at your soon to be ex boyfriend. 

“I lowered my fucking standards for you Tooru. Lowered my fucking standards to be with someone who only sees me as second best. Who’d rather let some  bitch with a skirt shorter than your hindsight to drag you around like a doll with no brains. All this time I could’ve been with someone who wouldn’t let their ‘friend’ control every minute of their life and completely disregard the fact that they were taken. Well lucky for you Tooru, Reni’s all yours now. She’s won, that bitch with the cockroach eyelashes has won. So now you can get the fuck out of my way because we’re over.” 

And with that you shoved your way past your ex, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your blazer, your hair framing your face now slick with fresh tears. 

It was his loss after all. His loss that he wasn’t able to decipher friendliness from flirtiness. Or maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe Oikawa knew ignoring his relationship status to spend time with someone who was quite blatantly ready to jump into his pants at any given opportunity was wrong. Maybe Oikawa knew he’d have you forever, he’d have you to come back to when everyone else left him for the same reason his last girlfriend did. Except this time he was wrong. He didn’t have you forever. And it was all his fault. 

Deep down he knew you had every right to shove past him, he knew you had every right to be furious with him, yet admitting that would’ve been the last thing he’d do. So instead Oikawa just scoffed before heading in the opposite direction that you had disappeared in, and into the gym. Completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend had just heard the entire event go down. 

2 months later

You giggled as you let your boyfriend Iwaizumi drag you along the school halls. Similar to how you used to watch her do to him. Except in this point in time, you could honestly care less about_ them._ Now you had found yourself a perfect boyfriend who saw you as nothing but the best. He’d see through any girl’s lame attempts to buy themselves alone time with him and would certainly cherish every moment spent together. Hajime knew just how easy it was to let someone slip through your fingers when you took advantage of them just being there, after seeing the exact situation enravel in front of his best friend only a couple months ago. 

“Babe are you even listening to me?” 

God was her voice annoying. 

“Babe.”

Oikawa sighed before finally glancing down at the girl who spent every second possible hanging off him like the school tie he wore. 

“Hm Reni.” He zoned out the moment she began rambling on about God knows what. Probably something to do with how he seemed to have gained more fangirls or whatever. But he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was you. You, who was currently skipping along with his best friend, happier than you’d ever been with him. You who was never like this. Never like Reni who was jealous, clingy and so fucking controlling. 

Oh.

a/n: We all know that both Oikawa and Iwaizumi would be the best boyfriends ever despite Oikawa being a piece of shit in this.😌 

[mira--mira]

Hi! I was wondering

How do you think Hashirama and Madara would be in a Road to Ninja version?

I remember once reading a Hashimada fic (which I never finished RIP) that was about Madara appearing in the RTN universe and the 3 things that stucked with me were:

1.- Madara was the first Hokage (something that Madara thought was horrible when he saw his sculpted face on the Hokage mountain 🤣)

And personally I think that it would not have been like that even in the RTN universe because we didn't see his face along with the other faces of Hokages in the movie (Yeah, apparently I'm basing myself on a movie which I'm not even sure if it's canon or not, even though Kishimoto wrote it) and the RTN characters didn't seem to even know who Madara is.

2.- Hashirama having his bowlcut as an adult

And I agree with the Madara from that fanfic, it looks awful on him. Hashirama, babe, I'm sorry but the only ones who can rock that style are Guy Sensei and Rock Lee, I know you just were trying to be cool but it doesn't suite you.

3.- Tobirama was a porn writer

Instead of being a fan of forbidden jutsu and creating justus, he wrote porn novels a la Jiraiya. And I'll hold that headcanon with my dead hands.

The only other fanfic that places the founders in the RTN universe is one where the protagonist is Mito (it's an interesting one-shot that pairs her with Itama 🤔)

She was kind of a shy person 🤔? And so it was Tobirama 🤣 which I found fun.

Hashirama, as the first fanfic I mentioned, was the Tobirama of the place (saddenly Madara wasn't in this fic).

So I would like to know what are your versions of the founders (or only Hashirama and Madara if it is too much) in the RTN universe! And how do you think things would be

Hmm, RTN is an interesting concept to me but, to be honest, I don't think Konoha would exist if a lot of personalities got flipped 😂 I haven't read any RTN fics with the founders, but if you, or anyone else, have links at hand I'd love to check them out 👀

1. Madara

Here's the big one and the crux of why I don't think the village would exist. Typically I characterize Madara as an extremely responsible man who internalizes things when he shouldn't, takes himself way too seriously, is aggressive and abrasive even to people he loves sometimes, but genuinely loves the people closest too him. Reversing this would make a character that slacks off, takes no responsibility, and is completely passive in life and has fleeting attachments to others around him. Assuming he wouldn't die on the battlefield, I could see the RTN "alternate" personality coming about of Madara's being so overpowered and competent that he loses interest and distances himself from things before he can get attached and lose them.

It makes building a village very hard though. (At first I was tempted to go RTN Sasuke route and maybe RTN!Madara is a little more openly flirty than canon!Madara, but the passivity and refusal to take responsibility would be the "core" qualities for me.)

2. Hashirama

Hashirama is a bit weird because he has a lot of surface-level "conflicting" traits in canon. He is optimistic but he pushes beyond his natural attitude and uses it as a mask to hide instead of addressing his feelings. He's mischievous, likes jokes and games, and can be a bit hedonistic with his pleasure but can equally be serious when necessary and will willingly sacrifice for others around him. And simultaneously, Hashirama and Madara are connected by a shared sense of idealism but also anger. Hashirama is a very kind, but extremely angry, man. I think a RTN!Hashirama would share a kind of apathy of RTN!Madara but instead of passivity his lack of anger would manifest as cruelty. Because canon!Hashirama is angry but his anger is usually a righteous kind. I don't think RTN!Hashirama would go out of his way to be cruel, but he doesn't have the empathy of canon!Hashirama, especially to others' suffering. He enjoys fighting just a bit too much and has no qualms about killing. In his mind, he should always come first in any situation and prioritizing (or even considering) others' is effort and him going out of his way to be "nice" and the other should be thankful. Similarly if he feels any negative emotion, he won't bottle it up and swallow it down, he'll immediately address it, usually confrontationally. RTN!Hashirama is as intelligent as his canon counterpart but he doesn't suffer fools and he hates it when people underestimate him. He's pretty proud and vain, tbh.

I really don't think the above would make him the "Tobirama" of RTN verse. To me Hashirama and Tobirama have different core values and perspectives and inverting Hashirama's doesn't make it become Tobirama's, if that makes sense. This one is also wordy bc I immediately knew how RTN!Madara would be RTN!Hashirama is a bit harder to pin down. But I hope it's clear why I have doubts about the village existing...maybe if RTN!Hashirama got it in his mind as a pet project for the hell of it, that he'd be a better leader for the country and not just the Senju alone, and RTN!Madara liked the idea of no responsibility and being able to detach even further than he already was? But that's still kind of grasping for a reason.

3. Hashimada

Equally I think any Hashirama/Madara relationship would be ehhh. They definitely wouldn't have the overwhelming bond of their canon counterparts, and it could be a relationship ripe for unhappiness. The closest I can think of to making the ship work is RTN!Madara would be drawn to Hashirama's absurd level of self-confidence and able to let the casual cruelty slide off instead of getting worked up about it. In a way RTN!Hashirama is stable and predictable. If he's pretty overpowered, there's less of a chance RTN!Madara would lose him, so their relationship isn't deep but it's more or less dependable and Madara knows exactly what he's going to get. In contrast RTN!Hashirama has an audience in the form of RTN!Madara and a partner that's not going to push back against his ideas. RTN!Madara doesn't ask for much and he doesn't complain when RTN!Hashirama puts himself first. He doesn't want, or might not be capable of, the deep emotional bond their canon counterparts have. RTN!Madara wouldn't leave Konoha (if it existed) in the AU, because he doesn't really care. If someone upset RTN!Hashirama and he decided to leave to 'do it right' RTN!Madara would probably follow, maybe out of some loyalty for RTN!Hashirama but mostly because it's what's easiest.

4. Tobirama

The core of Tobirama's character to me is prioritizing logic over emotion and both a conscious and unconscious failure to realize he can't completely eliminate emotion. Tobirama loves his brother, he's curious and has a desire to find out what makes things work and is willing to bend morality to get results if it'll serve a greater good. He's very aware of the unfairness of the world but believes it's an unspoken truth of humanity and can only be mitigated through logical means, but never completely erased. He'll be the sacrificial lamb, the one that works in shadows so his brother can have his utopian dream. Despite everything, he loves his genin, the strongest bonds he has aside from Hashirama, and does try to instill in them lessons he think will help them and lead to peace and stability in the village. He's still influenced by the prejudices of his time and can never find it in him to truly forgive the Uchiha.

A RTN!Tobirama would be a man ruled by emotion. Him writing erotica all day definitely could be one way this manifests lol. But overall he's sensitive and spiritual and can't stand the idea of killing. He and RTN!Hashirama don't get along and he actively tries to avoid his brother. RTN!Tobirama has equally strong principles as canon!Tobirama, but they're pacifist in nature and while he likes his studies, he prefers to be out talking to people and learning from them first hand. He's very naive and can be easily taken advantage of and he has trouble focusing on any one thing for too long. No matter how many times this happens, he never can harden his heart or be overly suspicious of others. RTN!Tobirama would most likely be the one support peace in this AU. He embraces the Uchiha and all the Senjus past enemies with open arms, almost to a foolish degree. It'd be a bad idea if he became hokage in this AU because he's a terrible negotiator and has a bad people-pleasing streak and struggles with long-term tactics. With the exception of RTN!Hashirama, who he considers an aberration who doesn't have a soul, humans at their core all have good intentions at heart.

5. Mito

I characterize Mito as a very level-headed woman. Her marriage to Hashirama is political in nature but they grow to be good friends and she never expected to fall in love and she's glad Hashirama didn't want a traditional wife. Mito is devoted to her community work (she works hands-on with people in the village), she seeks out connections with others and, despite the distance, remains close with her family in Uzushio, constantly writing them letters. She's spiritual and follows the Uzumakis' beliefs (not gonna list this OoT spoiler lol) and studies fuinjutsu in her spare time, something she's done since she was a child. She is willing to sacrifice if it meant protecting something she considered greater than herself, much to her own personal detriment. She loves and is proud of her children and grandchildren, but if she had a choice, she would have chosen to remain childless, she finds her true calling elsewhere.

RTN!Mito, similarly to RTN!Tobirama, is ruled by emotions. She dreams of one day making a good marriage for herself and centers romance and being a mother as her ideal life, but she's extremely picky when it comes picking the perfect husband. RTN!Mito knows how much she's worth and she refuses to settle and will not even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. She has a hard time forming long-lasting, deep bonds with other people and views starting her own family as the solution to this problem. At times she can be a bit absent-minded and unintentionally selfish, but she's not actively malicious. She blusters a lot and depending on the situation can come off as cold and uncaring, but it's only to hide the depth of her true feelings and loneliness. In this AU she would absolutely refuse to marriage RTN!Hashirama. Nothing on hell or earth, could make her change her mind.

Mito is such a blank-slate character it feels like writing an oc more than a canon character, tbh. And this is something I don't see brought up a lot but a "heart full of love" to combat the kyuubi's hatred to me has never been exclusive to romantic or familial (to children) love. *cough* I want a complex female character who's not vilified for not wanting to have children and/or regretting having them *cough* Mito's "love" was for the people of Konoha and Uzushio. My personal headcanon regarding her and Hashirama's child (I don't think she had more than one) was that she was dedicated to her son, but quickly realized being a mother wasn't her dream or something she even actively liked. The kid was well-cared for and she was dutiful towards him, but Hashirama was the parent that loved and embraced him with his whole heart and it led to some tension between Mito and her son as the kid could tell the difference and neither of them were "wrong" to feel the way they did. This is why Tsunade was shown with Hashirama instead of Mito, he was a lot more present in her life when she was young (instead of Kishi just not having made Mito as a character yet). But after Hashirama and Tsunade's dad died (and then Nawaki), she and Mito grew close but it was definitely more of a friendship or student/mentor relationship rather than a traditional grandmother/granddaughter relationship but both were satisfied with it and loved eachother. Likewise I didn't want RTN!Mito's characterization to be shallow and hit misogynistic undertones with her being an "opposite" to Mito's calm, level-headed, focused on her work/passions characterization.

6. Closing thoughts

#1: Wow this got long #2: I feel conflicted about RTN because it seemed to flip surface-level characteristics instead of deep characterizations, and ignored flaws altogether. The ones above, esp. Hashirama and Madara's, are kind of dark in a way? But that's the only way it makes sense to me...Gai and Lee caring about style and being stylish is a funny joke but if you were to actually poke and prod and say their personalities were inverted, neither of them would be top-notch ninja as we know...unless I'm just completely misremembering RTN because I realize it's been years since I saw it lol. Anyway, hope this was entertaining!

[mollymauk-teafleak]

honey don't feed it

Just some Hades smut! Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

------

Thanatos has told his love a thousand times to be careful when overindulging in boons from the Olympians. Too many, too much from one god and he starts to get some strange side effects.

Ares' boons make him angry. Dionysius' made him laugh.

Aphrodite's do something entirely different.

------

Thanatos read the note a few times over, hearing it in his lover’s voice.

I need you. Please come home. I love you.

“Let me guess,” the grin on his twin’s face was far too smug for Than’s liking, “You’re taking your break now?”

Than gave him the kind of dark scowl that had been cowing the unruly dead for years but had never seemed to work on anyone who actually knew him. He folded up the note and stowed it in one of the many hidden pockets of his flowing robes. I need you.

“I don’t just drop everything and go running when Zagreus clicks his fingers,” he muttered. Please come home.

“Never said you did,” Hypnos shrugged, leaning back and putting his slippered feet on the desk in a way that was quite unprofessional, not that Than would look anything but petulant if he said so, “Just thought your face really lit up when I said Zag had left you a message…”

Than really hoped his cowl hid enough of his face that his blush couldn’t be seen. Something about Hypnos’ widening grin told him his hopes were in vain. I love you.

“There’s a gap in my schedule,” he sniffed, sheathing his scythe and gathering his robes with as much dignity as he could muster, “An unrelated gap.”

“Sure,” Hypnos shrugged, marking it down on the time sheets, “I’ll tell anyone looking for you to check Zag’s place.”

I need you. Please come home. I love you.

“Best not, I think,” Than said flatly, turning away quickly so he didn’t have to see the expression on Hypnos’ face.

He’d catch up on the work he missed later.

He knew what the problem was as soon as he walked into their chambers. Their chambers, not Zagreus’, it had taken some time to get used to thinking of it that way. But when he hadn’t slept in the Chthonic Wing once since they’d begun openly courting, when half of the items in the close, comfortable room were his own, when the word home evoked images of this place and the godling he shared it with, he’d settled into it.

It wasn’t a smell, not exactly. But it was a presence in the air, like a heat without the warmth or a sound without its timbre. And when Thanatos felt it play across his skin, like a ripple of energy that somehow tasted of pink, he stopped. And he realised how this evening was going to go.

“Tough run today, my love?” he said delicately, hanging up his cloak and moving deeper into the room.

His answer was a low, affirmative grown from Zagreus, curled on his side in the middle of the bed they shared. Around him the aura grew even tighter, thick enough to taste. There was a faint pink flickering behind his green eye, a tension in his muscles as he held himself, an unusual rosy colour in his veins, standing out starkly in his corded wrists as he gripped the sheet underneath him.

Thanatos sighed softly, pushing all thoughts of returning to work out of his mind. He knew the signs of overindulgence in a god’s boon, as varied as they were, there were always common threads. When Zagreus depended too heavily on one rather than using them sparingly and variedly as he’d been told half a hundred times, he would begin to shake, his eyes would unfocus and flicker, he’d experience deep instinctual urges that were nigh on impossible to ignore. What his body demanded, how his brain responded, well that depended on which god he’d been indulging in. Dionyseus’ boons made him slur his words, lose the ability to walk straight, laugh helplessly at anything. Ares’ were especially worrying, making him violent and bloodthirsty, filling him with the need to strike out at something and not stop until exhaustion collapsed him. Too many from Hermes and he would be filled with energy that crackled and sparked, putting him on a level with a small child who’d eaten their body weight in raw sugar.

But none of those gave Zagreus this tense, hungry energy with it’s tinge of rose pink and it’s smell of amber and heat. That was solely the symptom of far too many boons from one goddess of love and lust. That was all Aphrodite.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Zag groaned, his voice strained and coming through clenched teeth. He seemed to be fighting to keep himself still.

“What am I going to say, beloved?” Than murmured, golden eyes sweeping over him, assessing just how far gone he was. There was a shine of sweat pooling in his collarbone, an unmistakable dampness on the inside of his thighs, the red fabric turning dark.

“That I’m an idiot,” Zag moaned, “That I went too far again, that I need to listen to you.”

Thanatos considered that a moment, confirming to himself that he’d locked the door firmly behind him. Then he calmly unclasped his robe at the back and swept it over his head, leaving him bare but for his jewellery, all in one smooth, efficient stroke. He moved to the bottom of the bed, joining Zagreus up on it, setting his hands lightly on his lover’s knees. He knew from experience that far too much sensation right now could easily overwhelm him. Sure enough, just that barest touch of Than’s cool palms through the fabric of his trousers dragged a strangled noise from Zagreus.

“What I was going to say,” Than said patiently, eyes glowing in the candlelight, “Was that I love you too. And I’m here for you. Alright?”

Zag swallowed hard, eyes wide and wet, fixed completely on his lover’s face. Too many of these boons and it wasn’t just what was between Zag’s legs that took control, it was his heart as well, love and lust together. Than knew he needed gentle words, soft touches, closeness. That and to be bent near in half.

After a long few days of solid work, of being apart more than they were together, Thanatos was rather ready for both.

“I love you,” Zag nearly sobbed, whole body trembling with tension that needed release, “Than, please…”

“Slowly,” Than promised, moving to unbuckle his sword belt and unwind his tunic. His lover hadn’t even undressed himself before he’d fallen to the bed, likely nervous of what he might do without even the feeble barrier of fabric, “Gently. I’ll give you what you need but not more than you can take and you’re going to listen to me. Yes?”

“Yes,” Zag was panting as Than rolled his leggings down, casting them off the side of the bed though he wasn’t entirely sure they were salvageable, “Yes, gods, anything. Just fuck me or kiss me or let me fuck you, I’m dying here.”

“You’re not dying, we’ve done this before…”

Than kept his voice level but there was something in the heat rolling off his skin right now as he took away the last of his adornments, the salt and musk smell of him, something animalistic about it all. He was finding it hard to concentrate. Or he would, if such a thing could pull his focus at a time like this…

“Come here, my love,” he moved Zag’s lean thighs apart, making him whine at just the slight touch of his breath, “I’ll take good care of you.”

Zagreus nearly came the moment Than’s tongue touched his flesh, a kind of electricity seizing him. But it passed, achingly, and then his fingers were in Than’s hair, taking full advantage of how long it had been getting of late, how easily Than had bowed to a sleepy, murmured comment from his lover a few weeks ago that he looked beautiful with it long. He tugged needily, hungrily, but still not enough to truly hurt, as Than fluttered kisses between his lips. He built slowly, starting to lap and suck and slip his tongue into him only when he was sure Zag could bear it. Every movement drew more gasps and moans from his lover, more grasping at his hair, strained whispers of muddied devotion.

Than had seen the sea of course, it claimed so many souls he had to go and collect, even some that were peaceful. He’d stood on it’s shores, felt it’s salt sting the inside of his nose and throat and wanted badly to be able to swim in it. When Zagreus came, sudden and sharp and with a high, wild cry, Than felt for a moment as if he had.

“Well then…” he drew back, wiping at his mouth and cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Than…” Zag moaned, relief in his eyes but only for a moment, the aura still twitching and writhing around him, “S’not enough...still burning…”

“I know, my love,” Than was already moving, taking his wrists now, immediately feeling his racing pulse under his skin, “I cleared my schedule, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, your workload was my biggest concern, just edged out my cock literally feeling like it was on fire…” Zag said dryly, making Thanatos smile. If his lover felt enough like himself to crack his little jokes, then his work was having the intended effect.

“Let’s see what we can do about that then, hm?” Than grinned, bending to his task again.

It took another half hour of slow, almost lazy ministrations between Zag’s thighs, a gradual introduction of his fingers, all very cautious and almost worshipful before he judged his lover ready for something more without it breaking his brain. He was still burning hot, the sheets under him near ruined, thighs shining with slick in the low light. But he could speak without that wanton whine in his voice, he could focus on something other than Than’s fingers or tongue- he’d had him reciting poetry a moment ago just to prove he could- and his eyes looked their usual colour. The boons were slackening their hold on him, bit by bit, as the seconds ticked by and Zag’s needs were filled.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little more fun before it was over.

“Want my cock?” he purred, licking his fingers lightly as he sat back on his heels.

“Gods, yes, you tease,” Zag groaned, eyes closely following the play of his lover’s fingers, the way his tongue ran across them, “I’ve only been begging since you walked through the damn door.”

“And if I’d given it to you then, you’d have ridden me until you blacked out while scratching my back to ribbons,” Than explained with prim patience, “What happened to listening to me?”

“Sorry,” Zag muttered, his kiss swollen lips sliding into a needy pout, “I’ll behave. I’ll listen. Please?”

Than smiled crookedly, drawing their hips close, throwing his lover’s legs over his shoulder, “Seeing as you asked so nicely.”

“Watch the feet, you’ll singe your hair again,” Zag hummed with a hint of smugness rather too strong for someone in his situation.

“I thought we agreed never to speak of that again, my love…”

Than pressing into him chased the look off Zag’s face, replacing it with one of mixed relief and rapture. Than had to bite down on his own gasp as his lover’s body opened up to him, he’d been neglecting himself as he’d focused on Zag’s predicament and was only now realising how much.

“Oh gods, yes,” Zag moaned, eyelids half closed, head tilted back, “Right there. That’s where you belong, my love, my heart…”

Than swallowed hard, bracing himself with his hands bracketing Zag’s head. It was the effect of the boons, he told himself. They were not two lovers in a sappy play whispering ridiculous, overwrought words of passion in some moonlight drenched garden.

But wasn’t it fun to pretend.

“My beloved,” he answered, voice a little strained as he began to thrust, “I’ve got you, you’re here with me and I’m going to give you just what you need...”

Zag whimpered helplessly, legs locked tight as chords around him, soon unable to do anything but gasp his name and strained pleas for more, faster, harder. Than answered, giving him everything he could, everything he had left, kissing him through the surging pink haze until he wasn’t quite sure who it was coming from or who it was ensnaring any more. And he wasn’t fully certain he could care, not when the world shrank down to Zag’s hands on his face and in his hair, his warm, wet heat around his cock, his breathy gasps of his name, how could he care about anything else? How could he care about anything but the one he loved?

“Come with me,” he whispered into Zag’s mouth, hips working hard and heavy.

Apparently he’d just been waiting for permission, as soon as the words left Than’s mouth, Zag arched up and came hard with a strangled cry of his lover’s name that sounded as sweet as any prayer. Than was helpless and could only follow, tumbling over his own edge, filling Zag deeply, crying out in a way that was very undignified and very un-death like.

When his vision cleared and his brain felt connected to his limbs again, Thanatos opened his eyes to see his husband smiling crookedly up at him.

“I think I’m all set,” he chuckled, eyes a little unfocused but very much his own beautiful colours, the only thing in the air being the smell of sex and candles that had guttered out while they’d been distracted.

They untangled themselves carefully, cataloguing their various aches and pulled muscles, collapsing over each other against the pillows.

“So,” Than shifted so Zag could pillow his head on his chest, “What are we going to do next time?”

“Use the boons sparingly,” Zag just sounded exhausted now, Than was beginning to suspect the much needed bathing would have to wait until after a brief nap, “Vary them. And listen to Thanatos.”

“Good boy,” Than laughed, stroking his hair back from his forehead, “And?”

Zag thought before frowning sleepily, confused, “And...and I don’t know.”

Than leaned down and kissed him softly, lingering before murmuring tenderly, “And I will always come running whenever you need me because I love you.”

Zag smiled at him, reaching up to trace the curve of his nose, “I love you too.”

Thanatos knew Zagreus was satisfied, he could go back to work and catch up on the souls he missed, the ones that were probably mounting every second he spent watching his lover drift into sleep.

But still he didn’t move, he didn’t stop letting the silky black hair run through his fingers again and again, admiring his beloved’s face, relaxed and peaceful in sleep. He would go back to being the emissary of Death, he’d pick up his scythe and he’d return to work. But not now.

For now, how could he care about anything but the man he loved?

[mbti-all-the-things]

Myers-Briggs Types as Songs from my Greek Mythology Album

The album is called From the Kindly Ones, and it tells the stories of figures in the Greek Underworld, from the point of view of the Fury Alecto, who punishes or otherwise knows them. Each one teaches a lesson Alecto feels the figure needs to learn, or features some other opinion the Fury has. 

There are 16 songs, so I figured, why not? Each blurb includes the title, the type, a sample lyric, and some explanation.  There are four sections of the album: Kings, Queens, the Innocent, and the Guilty.

The lyrics are here, and the entire album (a rough acoustic recording) is included here if you want to listen to your type’s song! 

I. KINGS

Dictator - INTJ

It’s no fun when you didn’t want to be the ruler of the world ? But the job is yours, there’s no denying

Hades’ song is about a man in an unwanted position of power, forever set apart with terrible duty and ability from the rest of his kind. But he was granted this broader perspective of the world for better or for worse, and I think the INTJ Mastermind type can relate.

Peaches Before Gold - ENTP

You earned the gold / You made the score / You saw a win and made it yours

Midas’ song cautions against ambition and greed trumping interpersonal relationships. While he gains unimaginable wealth, he becomes unable to show his daughter what he’s won. ENTPs can be prone to falling into a need to “win” above all else.

Down - ISFP

Death is no giant; it’s more of a king / Small like a tyrant, and just as inevitable

Sisyphus’ song details why he is condemned to roll a boulder up a hill forever. He was cunning and creative, and managed to cheat death more than once, for which he was punished. The ISFP’s individualism can sometimes make them believe that rules don’t apply to them.

The Dictator Remix - ENTJ

Lie on the chaise lounge while they lower grapes in front of you / Go on, keep chasing the high like the dictators do

Tantalus’ song is a mirror of Hades,’ showing a man who grasped at power his whole life, trying to cheat the gods, only to hurt those around him and damn himself. The ENTJ can be incredibly focused on success, but needs to understand humility to be truly powerful.

~

II. QUEENS

Friend of Fury - ISTP

You drew a bath of roses and you stood behind the king / You heard it then, the sound of blood when it decides to sing

Clytemnestra’s song depicts a woman taken advantage of her whole life, who finally breaks the chains of society to take revenge on her husband. The ISTP is an independent, practical soul who often thinks against the grain and is willing to take swift action, like this queen.

Upside Down - ESFP

You’re a creature of ego, oh Lady in the Chair / To see Aphrodite’s face beside your own could grant some clarity

Cassiopeia’s song tells the story of a vain queen who boasted of her daughter’s beauty above that of a goddess. While ESFPs can fall into the trap of vanity, they (like this queen) also have strong bonds with others, especially taking pride in their families.

The Queen of All The Ghosts - ESFJ

I was once like you / I was once a martyr, too / You, a sign of spring / Me, a warning of the justice I would bring

Persephone’s song gives a glimpse into the mind of Hades’ wife, and how her internment in the Underworld was more her decision than the myth leads us to believe. Like the Queen of the Dead, the ESFJ often makes quietly strong decisions for their family and for their own needs.

~

III. THE INNOCENT

Good Boy - ISFJ

If they would listen to your words and not the mouths that they escape / I think they’d love you, dear

Cerberus’ song is a sad one, but it’s also full of compassion. The three-headed dog is most often seen as a terrifying figure, but the narrator of this song sees him as an innocent. The ISFJ’s desire to care for others and natural gentleness is on full display here.

Falling From Grace - INFJ

So climb the stairs to heaven while I wait here on the ground / Paying no attention to the bodies raining down

Icarus’ song warns against perfectionism, following the story of a young man who up until now has easily navigated the patterns of life. INFJs are prone to god complexes due to their ability to see beyond the surface of life, but they may come crashing down if they are too reliant on it.

Coins - INTP

‘Cause the ferryman will take it from under your tongue / Doesn’t really matter if you die young 

Charon’s song covers the ferryman’s singular interest in his mission: ferry souls across the Styx and receive payment for it. The INTP can become completely fixated on a certain topic, neglecting all else to puruse what they deem most interesting at the time.

Follow Me, Prelude - ISTJ

One, too bound to his lyre / And one who a liar kept in the ground

Orpheus’ and Eurydice’s songs are preceded by this very short prelude. While it’s the shortest song on the album (sorry, ISTJs!), the practicality of this piece lines up with the ISTJ’s. They are also very to-the-point, and these lines pack a powerful punch, summing up the next story.

Follow Me, Pt. 1 - ENFP

What you wanted was a mystery, even to me / Why do I follow you when I don’t even know where you’re leading me?

Eurydice’s song is the only one on the album from the subject’s point of view, rather than the narrator’s. The story of her open heart and innocent nature mirror the ENFP’s, idealists who may find themselves in the sad position of loving those who cannot love them back.

~

IV. THE GUILTY

Follow Me, Pt. 2 - INFP

Should I listen to men who would tear me apart? / I’m sorry, my love, but your face isn’t worth my heart

Orpheus’ song depicts his devotion to his art and ideals, and how that extends beyond his devotion to Eurydice. The fiercely individual and creative INFP needs to balance their focus on ideals with reality and relationships, which Orpheus has unfortunately failed to do.

Visitor - ESTJ

Hera saw it in your heart (she held it there herself, you know) / And so she knew how it could stain your darkest clothes

Heracles’ song is about the demigod’s disproportionate strength and rage, and how Hera manipulated both to cause his life harm. ESTJs are strong-willed and tough, and need to be careful of allowing their rigid tendencies to break the softer world around them.

Doomed - ESTP

Sitting on the head of your father’s coffin / Sitting on the bed while your mother’s watching

Oedipus’ song tells the story of a man told of his dark fate, who fulfills it in his effort to avoid it. ESTP individuals are bold, which can come at the price of taking opportunistic risks. Like Oedipus, they could end up acting on something with unexpected consequences.

To Cower, To Covet - ENFJ

Theseus, do you think of your friend in the pit? / Pirithous — condemned, while you got away with it

Theseus’ and Pirithous’ song shows the double standard of condemnation when a slight is personal rather than impersonal. The ENFJ is an idealistic leader who may, like Hades with these young men, hold others to a high standard - but who also may be too hard on themselves.

[dreamyaqua]

Could you do a post about Seungmin please? Similar to what you did for the other boy post but seungmin as a boyfriend(how he would behave in love) and his ideal type? Thank you 😊

I'm finally getting to this ask!! I'm sorry it took me so long. Since Seungmin belongs to one of my fave groups I really wanted this to be good, so my high expectations intimidated me quite a bit but I hope I can write this nicely and that you'll like it!🥺

✧･ﾟ:*Boyfriend Seungmin✧･ﾟ:*

Virgo sun ☀️ Cancer moon 🌙 Libra Venus ♀️ Virgo Mars ♂️ Capricorn Eros ❣ Aquarius Juno

we all know Seungmin can be quite hard on himself, he's simply a perfectionist and that will also show in his relationships

he'll put a lot of effort into your relationship once he's truly committed to it; he'll be very dedicated and loyal

however, his perfectionist nature also makes him highly selective and he may put high expectations on his lover

he might even play a little hard to get at first because he can be a bit indecisive about what he wants in love and might want to test the waters first

however, once you're in love he'll be very gentle, funny, and generous

he'll truly respect you, be receptive and sensitive, he'll be very observant and sensitive about your needs as well

he likes to be of help and takes care of you, he'll give you advice and is very protective and can even be a bit possessive at times

he'll be very patient with you and he will notice, fall in love with, and remember the little things about you

loves holding you, will hold your hand 24/7, and spend a lot of quality time with you

he's warmhearted, sweet, caring, a classical romantic - you can expect a totally cliché date night with a candlelight-dinner, roses, champagne, and chocolates every once in a while - that's the type of romantic he is underneath

he'd also want an equal relationship without any defined roles; it should be balanced and harmonious

today he'll take care of you, tomorrow he wants to be taken care of

he also has a tendency to nag you a bit but that is one of the ways he shows you that he cares, he just really wants you to be healthy, happy, and to be able to reach your greatest potential

despite being critical sometimes, he'll be so supportive of you and your dreams

Seungmin might not open up to you immediately, he's a bit more guarded in that matter. However, he will slowly open up to you about his true feelings once he fully trusts you

he can appear to be quite strong on the outside but he's actually easily hurt and vulnerable on the inside

he's got strong emotions and cries easily, please comfort him :c

since he's so hard on himself there might be an underlying fear of being taken advantage of or being unworthy of your love and devotion, so he can need some reassurance here and there

he might seem or appear a bit prudish on the outside but he's actually a very passionate lover and will definitely make sure you're always taken care of in every way possible *wink wonk*

all in all, once you get this man, he'll be a total sweetheart and you will fall in love with him a bit more with every passing day, trust me😌

✧･ﾟ:*Ideal Type✧･ﾟ:*

for his ideal type, he'd like someone who's understanding, caring, loving, and compassionate

he can be a bit moody sometimes, so it'd be important to him that he's got someone on his side whom he can vent and complain to

someone who is a good listener, who's got empathy and who will support him, his work, and his hobbies

someone reliable and consistent, whom he can count on, and who is true to their words and speaks sincerely

write him a love poem/letter and he's a goner

kindness and good manners is a must to him, he'd likely fall for someone who is soft, friendly, and has an air on innocence about them

he'd like someone simple and humble but attractive/someone who's got a natural charm about them that will enchant him

coarseness and rudeness are big no-no's for him, as well as coming off too strong, so a lack of confidence, shyness, and being introverted is not a turn off for him at all

he'd also be very much into someone smart and intelligent and he'd love it if you've got a hobby or career path that you're passionate about (especially if it's something artistic)

since we know how hard he can be on himself, he'd need someone who reminds him of how far he's come and how much he's improved and achieved already

(give him compliments and he will return them tenfold btw)

and since we also know that he manages himself well, he'd like for his partner to do the same, he'd appreciate someone who's clean, hygienic, and who cares about their health

someone who looks neat and well put together but doesn't have to be glamorous, he will love you in your simplest of outfits because to him you'd always be beautiful no matter if you decide to dress up or put on makeup or not

he'd also be soft for a pet lover, imagine raising a puppy with him🥺👉🏻👈🏻

and someone who feels like home, who gives him a sense of comfort and home when he gets back after a long and tiring work day

[kingofthewilderwest]

Hi! here's part 1 of the ask XD: So I have this friend whom I try to love unconditionally but she is not as involved in the friendship, but I wanna try to still be there for her just in case something happens to her in the future plus, but most of my friends say that I should leave her if she is not as invested and I started thinking maybe there is something wrong with me? I consider my loves ones my purpose/goal, meaning and dream, I can't leave her! Since you are very insightful, thoughts? XD

Hey there. <3 <3 I'm so so so sorry you had to wait this long for my response. I've been thinking about you and chewing over the right words. Sometimes it's hard for me to muster up words. I hope these words are slightly okay and aren't coming too late. Also sorry that it's long. XD

I've been in friendships I consider imbalanced; one of us feels a much greater love for them than vice versa. I've been in both directions: as the person feeling the greater love, and as the person receiving that love.

Loving another person is beautiful. I think it's the most beautiful part of the human soul. Wanting them to be happy and being willing to help them through challenges is some of the purest things a human can feel. The fact you are someone filled with love and devotion shows that you have some beautiful things in your heart. <3

Unfortunately, I do believe that imbalanced relationships are not healthy until they get handled. It doesn't have to mean there's something wrong with you. Sometimes it just be. But it might indicate the relationship is not in good, stable equilibrium; it might indicate you will have to adjust your behavior; it might indicate there are psychological things you have to process (depends on your situation); and it might indicate both of you are getting unintentionally hurt by this current imbalance.

Several times I've been in relationships where I loved that person way more than vice versa. In both notable cases, they were uncomfortable with me. I felt like I was straining to be around them because I loved them so much, but I felt in pain too because I didn't get enough good time from them. I wanted my happiness in them, but I couldn't actually get secure happiness from them because they weren't invested in me in a level that'd satisfy my emotional-psychological strainings. And when I wanted to help them and got turned down, I felt extremely frustrated. I wanted!! to!!! help!!!!! them!!!! :(( One time the friendship would have been healthy if we'd both felt the same, but it wasn't meant to be. Another time, while I believed I was acting out of the right amount of devotion, that devotion was good and correct, I actually had insecurities I had to deal with. My devotion was an inability to accept my reality. I was emotionally unstable. I am not saying this is what you have; I'm just saying this is what happened to me one time.

On the other hand, I've had multiple situations where people adored me. Either I felt so-so about them, or they were friends, just not to that extent. And I will admit, it's very unfun being on this side, too. I knew I couldn't give them what they wanted. I didn't want to hurt them, but I couldn't magically create a type of love in me I didn't have for them. I didn't want them to be the people I was confiding in or relying on for my worst struggles; I had other friends who fulfilled those roles and I was sufficient that way. In the imbalanced relationships, I'd enjoy hanging out and going to the coffee shop once in a while, sure! I wanted to be casual or everyday friends with many of 'em! But it could easily accidentally feel like they were hanging over me and not giving me breaks I sometimes needed. Or it felt... I mean... there's times where someone who is romantically in love with you makes you feel awkward, and I absolutely believe there's the platonic equivalent when it's that unrequited level of friendship-love. And because the intensity is unrequited, the level of love the lover feels is never going to be matched, and nothing you do will make that change. The only thing you can do is adjust yourself and your actions and try to get that unrequited straining tampered down over time.

I'm not saying you are obtrusively hanging over the other person or annoying them. I don't know your situation's details and I'm not going to presume them. <3 It very well could be the case that other folk is just indifferent. It could be the case you're simply at a miscommunication about basic balance needs. So I'm agnostically covering all scenarios. But when I hear about situations like these where the love is imbalanced, my go-to response is: the person who's in further has to back off.

Because at this point: it's about boundaries of comfort. You have to prioritize the comfort of the person who feels their space is being (for lack of better words, sorry) "invaded".

Perfectly fair friendships sometimes need to readjust their boundaries so everyone feels comfortable. Backing off doesn't need to be cutting your friend out of your life. I think it depends on the situation. If you're actually friends where both are willing to work with the other, sometimes it can be successfully communicated out. I've had that work in my friendships.

You can learn what your friend's boundaries are, and then you'll have to learn how to stick with them. It might feel unpleasant when your heart is screaming to do and be more, and I sympathize. I know we can't turn our hearts off. Hearts will continue to yearn. But I think you and I can both understand that ultimately, in loving our friends, the most loving act we can do is make sure they feel comfortable with us. If that means your buddy only wants you as a sometimes-go-to-the-mall-with person, then that's the role you do; to go further is to breach into an intimacy they don't want. Over time, by acting carefully, hopefully your screaming heart will not scream so bad, and you and your friend will both feel happier with how your day-to-day interactions go.

In other cases, the imbalance might be irreparable. If the other person is legitimately indifferent or disinterested in you, you are investing a ton of spoons and emotional energy that are taxing you and helping nobody. They're not actually your friend. This type of person doesn't want your devotion, and while that kindness is wonderful, you're not actually going to be able to help them. In such a case, your other companions could be right, and that leaving the person is the best choice you could make. Kindness takes a lot of energy, and we are only hurting ourselves if we are over-investing in someone who literally doesn't care. It's not healthy emotionally, it means you don't learn how to move on and allocate emotions, and you burn yourself out for someone who wouldn't bat an eyeball and help you. Good friendships are ones where people are going to help each other to at least some extent, right? Because you deserve that, too!!!

I've seen plenty of one-sided "friendships" where the endless lover gets manipulated, taken advantage of, and abused to serve the other, uncaring person. I would be really sad if you ended in a situation like that one, because damn, those mess folks up. In such a worst case scenario as that one, "helping" the person, "loving" them, just perpetuates and "justifies" their bad behavior to you (and probably others), and means every action you do doesn't help them... it hurts you, and that's the only result. Again, I'm not saying this is you. I am NOT. But fucking hell, I've seen it happen a lot, and it's dangerous, and it's why love also involves knowing when to say "no" and step aside, right?

There was one time I was deeply in love with someone who was toxic. But even though she was toxic, I couldn't leave her! I wouldn't abandon her!! That's what I thought. [sigh] Leaving her ended up being the best thing I did, and the best thing that happened to her, too. That was a greater, more loving, more humble choice than the anxious (frankly very unhealthy) paranoia I had trying to keep her in my life. And I have majorly psychologically healed and gotten better, stabler relationships with everyone around me since making that choice.

Human love is like a candle. It's a beautiful light shining for the edification of others and everyone's happiness. But what good is it if you burn yourself out in an empty room? All you do is harm yourself, lose your light, and nobody else receives it. And if you're a candle, you probably need other candles to relight you, too; we're reciprocal beings. Considering your loved ones your entire purpose, meaning, and dream ergo could end up to nothing but personal harm if you pursue something like that empty, dark room. It doesn't even have to be a malicious room... just... indifferent to anything you could do. </3

I hold a huge value to devotion and loving friends. None of my answers are intending to say, "curb love!" I do believe in sacrificing for others when they need it, and I do believe in showing kindness to folks who'll be buttheads to me. But I also believe that we need to make sure we are in good relationships where we're being cherished too. Whether your situation is one where the friendship can continue after a good conversation about comfort, or it's one where you're better off investing your heart elsewhere, I believe this might be a hard case of learning restraint.

I'd say it's restraint in how we channel our love.

We can still love unconditionally while knowing there are boundaries we won't cross and energy we won't extend. We can always give people love to the degree to which each relationship merits it. Sometimes someone is out of our boundaries and that's just how it is. All interactions can be made with love in mind. A best friendship and an acquaintanceship both involve love, but each type of relationship has different actions we can and cannot take to make the other comfortable, or make the relationship solid and balanced. This is not limiting love. I believe this is using love right.

Because there's so many instances where friendships aren't bad, aren't toxic, aren't shitty, aren't doomed or something... they're just imbalanced, and balancing is hard! Nobody is doing anything wrong-wrong, and love is good, we just aren't channeling our love right or designating our emotional energies well. There are successful cases where folks I know initially made me uncomfortable but stepped back to my comfort zone. We stayed friends and have had a good time. I've felt better about being with them after having conversations and making adjustments. Sometimes it took a while because hearts HAVE EMOTIONS, but! We refound balance! Our friendships returned to a stable, healthy state. And I've felt better after receiving feedback from friends saying I've exceeded their bounds, and learned (ever-so-painfully) to step back and tell me heart there's places I cannot go.

I wish you the best with finding balance. Take care, have an awesome one. <3 Rock on.

[hedonisthierophant]

The Dead Man in the Mirror

Hi everyone, (it feels funny saying that when I imagine that the amount of people who will read this is probably in single digits.)

Here is my first fic for The Devil All The Time. It’s an introspective piece, exploring Arvin’s psyche. I’d love feedback, bonus points if you can guess what I’ve been watching lately that was somewhat of an inspiration for this. I owe the courage to both write and post this to @ill-skillsgard. I dedicate this piece to her and to @sophie-writes-for-arvin-russel who inspired it, I hope you both like this. Enjoy!

Warnings: disassociative identity disorder, blood, violence, mentions of suicide.

Length: 2K

The Dead Man In The Mirror

His father seemed to fight the devil all the time. Growing up, his father Willard had always been Arvin’s hero. His father was big, strong,  incredibly handsome, a fearsome protector, his love existed but it was distant and could be cold. His mother…well his mother’s very nature seemed defined by her ephemerality. She had been kind, gentle, quietly beautiful, wonderfully nurturing…and gone too soon. If his mother had been the life-giving spring with its gentle time to grow, his father was the harsh winter that demanded that Arvin mold himself into something different if he was to survive. When he went out with his father he could perfectly go through the motions of the lessons he was being taught but Willard somehow knew that Arvin wasn’t really learning them for himself, merely copying, the same was true of his mother, when given an example he could put on an impeccable performance of the polite and humble young man she was attempting to raise, but she too realized that she was only taking in a show. Without either of their examples to follow Arvin was simply still, empty like a mirror left alone in the dark with nothing to reflect. Arvin supposed that made him the autumn, a product of two stronger forces with the redeeming qualities of neither. People like autumn because it’s not too much of this, or that. To him, being autumn was simply the absence of being. In the stillness of autumn as the world prepares to slumber people often use the ensuing quiet and peace as a reprieve to find themselves. For Arvin though, there was nothing to find. He was empty. In the in-between where his mother’s lessons intersected with his father’s they agreed on only a single point. That Arvin must find himself and discover who he was or other people would take advantage of his emptiness and use him as a vessel waiting to be filled. He wouldn’t find out how correct they had been until much later.

           In the end the cancer itself may have only struck down his mother, but it defeated both his parents. Charlotte only knew how to deal with problems that were like weeds, insects, or disease in her beautiful garden, they could be plucked and pruned, treated with this remedy or that, Arvin remembers that she used to sing to her plants. In the absence of treatment all his mother’s ways were useless against the sickness devouring her. His father was a warrior through and through, once pointed in the direction of a solution there was no stopping him. It is how he had solved the problems of the battlefield and Arvin would learn much later that he had solved their housing situation the same way. The thankless unforgiving work of the slaughterhouse was simply another battle to be fought. In the absence of an enemy combatant, Willard was powerless. Cancer was an intangible, intransigent enemy. Charlotte lost ground to it every day, and there was nothing her devoted soldier could do to help. That desperation birthed the prayer log, a place where in Willard’s mind, he would focus all of his devotion and manifest a miracle for his beloved. Arvin, ever the mirror, was expected to reflect Willard’s zeal in order to amplify their call to heaven. In a detached sort of way his father’s suicide made sense to Arvin. The great soldier had finally lost a battle, and doctrine dictated that under no circumstances was he to allow himself to be taken alive in event of defeat. Slitting his throat from ear to ear in an inadvertent grotesque parody of the smile Arvin had been longing to see grace his lips had simply been only available recourse.

Arvin used to stare into the mirror for hours on end when he was young, he could see his mother’s fine features and soft caring eyes easily enough but from the moment he was old enough to compare he felt he was lacking because he didn’t see any of his father’s face in him, let alone his strength or determination. When Charlotte fell ill Arvin didn’t look in the mirror anymore, this was not by choice for he dearly would’ve liked to continue his nightly ritual of self-analysis, if only to take his mind away from his mother for a while and even more so as an escape from the burdensome log. His mother had insisted that they cover the mirrors as she grew weaker. His father ever the dutiful soldier, glad to be given a mission to accomplish, saw to it as nearly as soon as the words left her pale, trembling lips. Her faint wish was executed zealously as though it were an order from an empress, or an angel’s command ringing down from on high. Willard flew to the general store as fast as their battered truck carry him and returned with the heaviest sheets young Arvin had ever seen. Not one for any half measures ever, Willard affixed sheets to every mirror in the house tying the edges with impenetrable serpentine knots he learned in the war. On the inside Arvin wailed at the loss, as though he were being deprived of the priceless treasure as opposed to a simple chance to look himself, but without a physical mirror to ground him, he became lost in a spiral of self-doubt and could think of himself as only a pale reflection of his parents. Outwardly however he said nothing, his face betrayed none of his turmoil, for that was one of the mandates of winter. All these years later Arvin still asks himself why reflections were banished from their home, he thinks perhaps that not even his mother could stand the sight of her radiance fading away, day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment.

Young Arvin tried to defy this edict once when he was starving for a reminder that he himself was alive. He snuck the smallest mirror in the house, a relic of a bygone age when his mother had wistfully mentioned that she wished to have a mirror to do her makeup in. His father had driven six hours next day and returned with a luxuriously polished and impossibly bright mirror from a department store in Cleveland and placed it on his mother’s dresser before she even awoke. Armed with a dull butter knife that had long since lost its luster for there was no one around to cook anymore, Arvin’s clumsy child’s hands sawed ineffectually at the Gordian knot separating him from just the smallest reassurance that he was a person. The punishments of winter were cruel, but purposeful…this would be of rather cold comfort to Arvin. His father opened the door to his room and saw what he was attempting to do, coldness came over his face as though his exquisite mien had been frozen into a perfect ice sculpture of emptiness. He approached with the inevitability and weight of a blizzard, that would bear down upon Arvin’s small, desperate, perpetually inadequate frame. There was a cold precision to the pain inflicted upon Arvin. The worst punishment, assigned to his hands, for they had been the instruments of his sin, was dealt first. He was force to immerse them in ice water for an hour, Arvin begged and pleaded, his tears melting with the instrument of the sanction placed upon him. Through piteous groans and screams and cries, and apologies and promises made all the more earnest by suffering the ice in his father’s face did not crack, but the moment the timer rang his father lifted his hands from the ice and began to dry them showing a tenderness that was rare for him. After enduring the loss of feeling in his hands Arvin was stripped and made to go outside and select a willow switch, Arvin had thought he might never feel warm again but the heat of shame proved him wrong. He was beaten with an almost… tender precision, in all things his father was in absolute control of himself and the application of justice is no different. The lashings never broke the skin never left too serious a bruise and his face and what lay between his legs were spared. The morphine held his mother under its powerful spell and his screams never reached her. Afterward Willard helped Arvin dress and gently held him in his arms before carrying him away to bed and tucking him in. The moment the door shut quietly behind him and there was enough distance between him and his son’s sniffling breaths the ice that held Willard melted his body shook with silent sobs as tears sprang from his eyes and mixed with the vermilion blood on his hands as he knelt to pick up shards of glass from the petite mirror he had shattered for daring to remind him of happier times.

The day those boys had cornered Lenora, forced her to her knees and thrown a bag over her head Arvin tried to say a prayer in his mind as he was surrounded and kicked, but it wasn’t the Lord who answered, something inside Arvin had. For the first time in his insecure, anxious, people pleasing existence, Arvin was filled with a sense of confidence. Something had finally risen and filled the emptiness inside of him. In his current situation there was nothing even this mysterious force that had brought certainty to him at last could do, but  it knew all it would have to do was wait for the right time. The presence became a constant companion in Arvin’s life, he saw a tire iron at work and the voice whispered to him tales of vengeance for him and his sister. The day he ambushed the boy on the bus and beat him with a tire iron the voice roared in approval, Arvin as he was before wouldn’t even have had the strength to lift the iron deal such vicious blows but he was possessed of someone or someone else’s strength. Later when he attacked the boys in the garage bringing the hood of a car down on one of their heads and beating the others the voice whispered that it was proud of him and a shiver ran up his spine.

The day he came home and found Lenora hanging in the shed the voice let out an unholy scream and Arvin was overcome with the sense that he’d come home to something like this once already and couldn’t bear another, even though that was impossible. What happened to his father had felt…different. When he confronted preacher Teagardin the presence took over his lips and made him whisper of dark, sexual things, urges that were not of the Lord to lure the predator into a false sense of security. When he shot the hypocritical holy man who had dared to abuse Lenora, whom he’d failed to protect the voice was elated whispering all sorts of praise that echoed in Arvin’s ears. As he struggled to catch his breath and come back to himself afterward in his car something about the situation struck him is familiar, more than déjà vu it was as though he had lived this already. The voice had snarled at the couple that had picked him up as he hitchhiked to Knockemstiff, the cold certainty that these people meant him harm came over him though the source of this feeling was not Arvin. After he had slain them the voice whispered that it had been vindicated and the photograph he’d come into possession of was proof that they were not righteous. When he confronted Lee Bodecker he was out of his depth, crouched behind a rock as bullets flew around him, the voice urged him to surrender to it promising that it had the strength and knowledge to help him face this challenge, but that he had to surrender control. Desperate and afraid Arvin agreed. He rose with the stance of someone who had seen battle, dodging from cover to cover as though he’d done it a hundred times, his fear had evaporated as though he dealt with this sort of situation regularly, the forest around him started to blur and the trees became something akin to those he’d seen in pictures of the South Pacific instead of familiar West Virginia Pines. He wielded the gun expertly and struck down the sheriff, the voice was quiet.

Before Arvin left, Earskell had said “I ain’t seen a look in anybody’s eye like that since your Daddy died.” He’d attempted to say goodbye to his grandmother before his courage had deserted him. He knew in his heart that her mind was beginning to go but she’d clutched his face close to hers, her venerable hands trembling. Her last words to him had been “Oh my dear Willard, you look so handsome.” There had never been any mirrors in the house in Knockemstiff, his grandmother held that they were objects of vanity and portals to sin, so Willard left not knowing what she’d seen in his face that had confused her.

As Arvin settled into the back seat of the hitchhiker’s car, he asked him where he was going. He glanced up and gazed into the rearview mirror. His father’s impossibly alluring face, arctic as ever, stared back at him. His voice is not his own when he answered: “well there’s a lot of no good sons of bitches out there, and I aim to get right with ‘em.”

[leviathanswingman]

killing me softly, chapter 8: heavenly delirium

Lucifer awoke to the barely noticeable scent of honey and smoke. Encased in this calming aroma, he took in a deep breath and let out a sleepy sigh. His body felt warm in that certain kind of way where the warmth started from the pit of his stomach and spread out to every cell of his body.

What heavenly delirium.

As he adjusted his position lazily, he felt something light, yet fluffy tickle the tip of his nose. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes a smidgen and was greeted by the sight of tan skin pressed against his cheek.

To his own surprise, this didn't alarm him whatsoever. Instead, Lucifer felt at home, encased in a calamity he hadn't felt in a long time. To be honest, he wasn't quite sure if he'd ever felt anything quite like this before.

Bit by bit, he began to regain his senses and memories started coming back to him; fraction after fraction flashing behind his eyes like the ending credits of a movie.

Last night, he'd had the most intense hanahaki attack he'd experienced up to this point, right in front of Lord Diavolo. And despite that, Diavolo had stayed and helped him, had held him through the worst wave of it.

Scratch that. As Lucifer raised his head he realized Diavolo was still holding him, supporting him. Cradling him, he corrected himself as he felt his cheeks warm up a bit.

The unexpected warmth and serenity he was currently feeling after all those stressful days were the only thing holding him back from completely recoiling and setting an appropriate distance between the two of them again.

He'd never known how sacred it could feel to be completely enraptured by another person.

So, still caught up in the afterglow, Lucifer allowed himself a moment of selfishness and blatantly stared at Diavolo's sleeping form that was ever so close to him.

Diavolo was still fast asleep, his hair now messy with parts of it sticking up in strange angles, other parts covering his eyes.

For a moment, Lucifer just stayed like that, lying on his side, watching the slow rise and fall of Diavolo's chest. On Diavolo's face was a content expression.

Eventually, Lucifer found himself staring into space, eyes focussed on nothing particular, lost in thought again.

Right. He shouldn't forget himself, he should know his place. The devil himself knew how insolent Lucifer had acted these past few days.

Diavolo had helped him due to the nature of their relationship and contract. Obviously, he needed his right hand man, so it simply had come natural to him to help out in such a dire situation and there was nothing wrong with that.

Suddenly, Lucifer felt a now familiar sharp pain in his chest and fidgeted a bit to alleviate the stinging.

There it was again. Of course, it had never left to begin with, had only stayed dormant to strike in the most unfitting situations. At this point, Diavolo played such an important part in Lucifer's life, there was no way of simply forgetting all the moments they'd shared ever since his fall from heaven. From Lucifer's reluctant obedience to an eventual camaraderie to an unwavering devotion. After centuries of growth and gained trust between the two of them, there was no way for it to just disappear as if none of it had mattered to begin with.

Like your brothers, you're a fool after all, Lucifer found himself thinking as he still lay in bed, his and Diavolo's legs entangled.

This couldn't be healthy for him. Still, something made him freeze in place and refused to let him walk away as if nothing had ever happened.

Lucifer fidgeted a bit more as another sharp pain ran through his lungs, and he could feel another petal make its way up his throat; bloody and wet.

Diavolo was still dead asleep. Contrary to popular belief, he was an incredibly heavy sleeper. Once he'd fallen asleep, it was almost impossible to get him to wake up again. On several occasions  Lucifer had had to team up with Barbatos and multiple other servants to pull their demon prince out of his bed. Afterwards, he'd always been in the foulest of moods.

Now, upon sensing movement, Diavolo instinctively tightened his grip on Lucifer, pulling him flush against his chest. They were so  close, Lucifer could feel soft breaths tingling on his skin and the steady thump thump thumping of Diavolo's heart.

Still, no matter how much he longed for it, Lucifer wasn't meant to be held by these arms. These arms were destined to hold greatness, after all, the devildom's future rested on Diavolo's back.

Just like Atlas had been carrying the world on his shoulders, so Diavolo now carried the devildom on his broad back.

To bring the devildom even further, it would be in his best interest to marry out of political and territorial advantages, this had always been an unspoken truth, which was precisely why Lucifer had always taken a step back when it had been about Lord Diavolo.

In their nature, demons were inherently possessive. If he ever were to allow himself and Diavolo to get even closer Lucifer didn't think he could ever find it within himself to let go again.

He wasn't one to share, not in life and most definitely not in love. What was his was his only.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and once again, Lucifer became too aware of what exactly the situation he was in must look like to an outsider.

After a tumultuous night, him and Diavolo had fallen asleep, Lucifer holding onto Diavolo as if the demon lord was his own lifeline.

To him, the situation was nothing more than that, pure in its intentions, but what it would look like to the visitor waiting patiently for permission to enter, he couldn't fathom.

Then, the door opened. Lucifer had two choices: he could either hide his face in the crook of Diavolo's neck, hoping to stay anonymous or he could face the visitor, bold and unapologetic.

“Lord Diavolo?” the voice rang through the room, accompanied by the creaking of the door.

Out of instinct, Lucifer lifted his head.

Barbatos, holding a candelabra, stopped in his tracks, observed the scene right in front of him.

He had entered Lord Diavolo's chambers to wake him up since they still had much to discuss about the upcoming party.

Yet as he entered the room after precisely two knocks, as usual, expecting to find his lord dormant, stubbornly asleep, he was in for a surprise.

Barbatos scanned the room and laid his eyes on an unusual sight. Lord Diavolo was sleeping in his bed alright, but unexpectedly, he was joined by another person.

The other person in question was none other than Lucifer himself. Diavolo and Lucifer were tangled up with each other, Lord Diavolo holding onto Lucifer for dear life, holding tightly onto his right hand man. Lucifer himself had his hands hooked in Diavolo's hair, lazily combing through the messy locks. It looked too intimate for Barbatos to be here.

He was about to leave as he caught Lucifer's eye. So he was awake after all.

“ Oh, well this is unexpected,” Barbatos said, fixing Lucifer with his gaze.

There was an undeniable red tint to Lucifer's cheeks as he stared back at Barbatos.

Lucifer scoffed and Diavolo pulled him even closer. “Is there anything you wanted?” Lucifer asked, reluctantly embarrassed.

“I just came here to wake up Lord Diavolo, but seeing the situation you're in I don't think there's much need for that,” Barbatos answered smoothly. “If I didn't know better I'd thought you'd finally told him the truth.”

“Stop fooling around. We both know I could never do that. I would never tamper with his success like that.”

Barbatos simply stared at them for a moment. Diavolo, fast asleep, holding onto Lucifer as tightly as he could; Lucifer propping himself up on one arm, still in Diavolo's arms.

“You're tiresome. How come you're usually so smart, yet as soon as Lord Diavolo enters the picture you drop any kind of rationality? How do you not see it?” Barbatos asked, holding eye contact with Lucifer.

“I don't know what you could possibly be referring to. We both know Lord Diavolo will eventually have to get married for political reasons. I'm not enough of a masochist to get what I want to just have it torn away from me moments later. Staying his loyal subject is the only option with no repercussions,” Lucifer growled, not caring about keeping his voice down. Here was no way Diavolo would wake up this easily.

Barbatos fixed the two figures on the bed with an icy gaze.

“And how has that been working out for you? I'm as much Lord Diavolo's loyal servant as you are, yet I can't recall having shared a bed with him like you are at the moment. I don't think there was a clause concerning sleeping together in a way only lovers would do in my contract.” Barbatos cleared his throat and turned away, facing the door. “ I need you to do your job and help with preparations for the party. I know he,” he waved in Diavolo's direction, “ wouldn't care. If it was up to him he'd want to keep you in here forever, but I can't handle all of the workload by myself.”

Diavolo's hand suddenly clenched around the fabric of Lucifer's shirt.

Was he possibly awake?

Lucifer's eyes darted upwards for a moment, but Diavolo still seemed to be sleeping like a baby.

Lucifer let out a deep breath and felt a petal flutter past his lips, landing on Diavolo's face. The demon prince scrunched up his nose in irritation for a second.

Barbatos opened the door and without turning around he said, “that's certainly a new one. Get back to work, Lucifer. Oh, and when Lord Diavolo awakes tell him to come see me. That's all.” With that, he left the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

Barbatos was one man that shouldn't be underestimated.

Concerned by Barbatos' last comment, Lucifer quietly glanced down at the petal that was now resting on Diavolo's cheek. It wasn't one of the white rose petals Lucifer had gotten used to. Resting on Diavolo's cheek was the petal of a blue rose.

The petals had changed. This couldn't mean much good. Only in the worst cases of hanahaki a person would end up developing different flowers for one specific person.

Quickly, Lucifer slid his hand across the bed, searching for his DDD, quite sure that he'd left it somewhere on the bed. As soon as he found it he googled the meaning of blue rose petals.

According to the internet, the represented the impossible or the unattainable.

Lucifer snorted due to the irony of his whole situation. It couldn't get any worse than this.

Then, he looked back at Diavolo's sleeping form and was met with golden eyes mustering him seriously.

How long had he been awake for?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 , Chapter 7, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

*nsfw chapter

taglist: @el-does-photography

[jasperwhitcock]

02. DISTRACTIONS

i’ve decided to continue with the au of bella as a vampire & edward as a human inspired by a post from @bellasredchevy, so here’s another installment (you can read the first chapter here). if anyone has thoughts on if it’d be more preferable for me to post this fanfic on wattpad/fanfiction.net/another website rather than posting it on tumblr, let me know :-) if not, i’ll continue to post here & figure out some tag to make it easier to find!

The boys had left for a hunting trip, so I found myself falling victim to what Alice liked to call a “sleepover”. It was a ridiculous name for this kind of occasion. An unfortunate part of what we were consequently lost us the ability to sleep and thus, dream. I had found this to be something I considered an advantage when I was first changed. I had so much extra time I could devote to reading! Unfortunately, the excitement didn’t last very long. I still enjoyed the benefits of all the ample time, but I did miss the creativity of my subconscious that allowed me to live in other worlds unrestricted by the more sentient, aware parts of my mind. I missed escapism.

I even missed the nightmares at times. I had been such a vivid dreamer.

Additionally, it was even further ridiculous to refer to this as a sleepover when we spent every night together. Without the sleep and the ‘over’ aspect of spending the night away from home, this was definitely the worst sleepover I’d been to in the course of my existence.

Although, as a bonding time amongst the women of the Olympic Coven, with the exception of some of Alice’s ideas for activities, I enjoyed this kind of night very much. I’d have gone with the boys to hunt if I had any intention of returning to school tomorrow. I’d owe them an explanation when they returned as for the tension that filled the car as we drove home from school. I hated to be the center of attention, so I was appreciative when Alice and Rosalie agreed to keep the horrific encounter a secret for now. I didn’t want the scrutiny of their concern nor the dramatics of the situation.

I was lucky that they had plans with Carlisle. Rosalie was able to convince Emmett and Jasper to begin their night early by allowing us to drop them off at the hospital – much to the dismay of my bulkier brother who had spent his day eagerly anticipating our rematch. My other sister easily dismissed their suspicion of our motives. Nobody questioned Alice twice. I was glad to have more time to mull over what to say to Carlisle. As much as I wanted his guidance, if I could put off growing the audience to my moment of weakness for another couple of hours, I’d gladly take the distraction of Alice braiding my hair into a long plait down my back while she blasted music in the garage where Rosalie worked.

Typically when we had nights like these, we each selected an activity to do together. Alice made the choice  – unfortunately for me – to sort through all of our closets and rid them of items she no longer deemed wearable. With the exception of a few favorites, we rarely wore the same things twice, so it seemed like a waste of time. That is until I realized that this was all just a ruse to chastise me for the items of clothing she stocked in my closet that I didn’t wear. My small, voyeuristic sister was pleased with Rosalie and Esme, creating a nice, substantial pile of clothing to donate, whereas my closet ended up acquiring even more clothing than before. I was far too moody to care to protest.

Esme arranged for the four of us to paint together while some french movie played in the background. As an added challenge, she had Alice describe a vision to us, and we all attempted to capture the image on our canvases. Rosalie simply wanted our company as she continued her ongoing project of restoring yet another classic car that she’d eventually gift as an item for a charity auction. My activity of choice usually was the same: I’d select a book for us to read, and we’d have a book club to conclude the night once we’d all finished.

Tonight, however, I wasn’t feeling entirely up for it. Although I definitely wouldn’t mind the fictional escape away from Forks, I didn’t have it in me to sincerely participate in the conversation that would follow.

I wanted to move beyond the events of this afternoon already. As much as it disconcerted me, I didn’t want to be so severely consumed. I was growing irritated with the feelings of disappointment that preoccupied me. I had taken my ease in this life for granted.

Although I knew it wasn’t his fault, I found myself becoming frustrated with the Masen kid. When I began to see eyes materializing in the green brush strokes of the trees of my painting, I unintentionally destroyed my canvas. Something about the perplexity in his shockingly perceptive irises and the intelligence that marked his thick eyebrows when they pulled together was inexplicably haunting me. The irony of feeling haunted when I was the undead creature was not lost on me.

“I’ll grab you another one, dear,” Esme soothed, exchanging worried glances with Rosalie and Alice before disappearing to bring me another large square of coarse, woven white fabric to vandalize.

When the lyrics of the song Alice sang along to as Esme handed Rosalie the tools she needed began to creep into my head and develop new meanings I didn’t want to hear, I abruptly sprang from the driver's seat of Rose’s convertible and ran from the garage. I wanted to unravel in peace.

I stopped when I reached the large, grey stones of the riverbank.

The forest was peaceful. It was nearly dawn; a pale, purple-grey tinted light cloaked the scenery before me, the orange and pink hues of the morning sun that should fade into the navy-black of the night sky were hidden behind a thick layer of rain clouds. The water of the river flowed sinuously by as some birds sang far in the distance. The greenery was enveloped in the fallen rain of the night, droplets of water clinging stunningly to every blade of grass, every needle of pine of the lush vegetation like crystals and diamonds. A cold mist intimately caressed the river, enveloping the landscape in a fresh haze. I could now see the vision Alice described a few hours prior come to life. Here I stood now, quietly, amongst the skyline of trees in daybreak.

I closed my eyes to the muted beauty of this morning, indifferent to the ephemerality of the moment. How many mornings had I seen like this? They were all already cemented in my infallible mind. I breathed in, the cold air whistling deliciously down my throat. On my tongue I could taste the minty, rain-kissed evergreens, the warm streams of blood pumping the tiny, fluttering heartbeats of the smallest animals, the earthy, sweet brooks leading back to the river. The wind softly stroked the sparkling spring water, and as I focused on the faint whisper of an insect’s fluttering wings, I heard the lithe, recognizable stride of my adopted mother approaching. With her came new scents and sounds – white gardenia, freshly baked bread, honey, peach blossoms, a whisper of lush silk, a hiss of air, a gentle nuzzling of fast footsteps on glossy moss.

She arrived by my side but said nothing, joining me in my silent reverie.

“You have nothing to say?” I asked after we stood there for some time, Esme watching what I assumed was the faint hint of the sun rising beyond the clouds, lifting the overcast view into lighter shades of blue-grey. I could feel the slight difference in temperature against my skin.

“Is there something you wish for me to say, sweetheart?” Esme asked gently.

I finally opened my eyes, turning to meet her topaz eyes full of love and patience.

“Not really,” I half-smiled, feeling guilty.

Her beautiful mouth widened into a smile, lighting up her heart-shaped face. She seemed to find some humor in my honesty, letting out a peal of laughter that frightened some distant creatures into silence at the unexpected sound of bells. Her caramel-colored waves of hair shook lightly with the motion.

“Oh, my Bella.” Instantaneously, I was enveloped in her warm, velvet arms. “It is absolutely valid to feel such despondency, but we must celebrate that we are not mourning the loss of another life! For that, I am very proud of you. And I’ve been so relieved that in this life you’ve never had to grieve the mistakes that even I have made...but we would never feel differently towards you if you had. Nor do we feel differently that you’re experiencing a struggle much more strenuous than before.”

She paused before continuing more fervently, “it makes you no less strong, and you will have the strength to resist...I believe that with all my heart. Please don’t feel so disappointed with yourself. You must give yourself some credit and patience and forgiveness. It pains me to see you so cheerless!”

“I’m sorry I seem so...down,” I sighed, resting my head dejectedly on her shoulder. “I guess, to be frank, it just...sucks to feel like I don’t have the super sense of self control that I thought I did. I’m beginning to feel bad for Jasper now,” I snorted bitterly.

She laughed again at my colloquial choice of words.

“Perhaps you owe him an apology. You and your brother have given him an awful lot of trouble for how he struggles,” my mother accused me teasingly, stroking my hair just as my sisters had. The comfort was nice, but I also felt irrationally remorseful to have any need for it.

“Yeah, maybe I do,” I frowned, thinking of having to put aside my pride.

She pulled away to hold me at arm’s length, cautiously studying my face.

After a moment, she pulled me against her again in another embrace.

“I will leave you alone now. It seems you would benefit from some more time by yourself to think without your sisters’ futile attempts to distract you.”

I could tell she was smiling from the way the words left her mouth. “But I won’t allow you to wallow in pity forever.”

Esme released me from the hug and reappeared four yards away from me, the expression on her perfect face stern. “So take the time you need to process how you’re feeling. But only be alone if you need to be. Don’t let yourself be lonely. That’s very important...You know where we will be.”

With that, she was gone.

I couldn’t understand why I was so inconsolable. Of course, I valued her words and the sentiment. My family’s understanding and support were wonderful to have, but I couldn’t shake the upheaval the boy’s blood had wreaked on my thoughts. It seemed to me a cruel joke, that after all these years of so naturally adjusting to this life, I now experienced the true, macabre consequences of this form. Would I have traded the ease that had accompanied me until now if it meant I’d never have experienced a magnetism as strong as the sweet scent that lingered just beneath the Masen boy’s frail skin? Would I have chosen to struggle more the entirety of my existence if it meant I’d have avoided the ferocity of that moment in my suddenly not so banal biology class? Maybe I would have.

This must be some kind of punishment from some god somewhere. Why else would I experience such effortlessness only to be met with an unendurable, unassailable call to reject everything good about my existence? I never gave much thought to religion in either of my lives. I suppose that after I’d been changed, it’d seem like a far more interesting subject because what could be the implications of an existence such as mine? Did my being a monster provide more validity to the existence of a god? If mythological evil creatures plagued the earth, then couldn’t a supernatural deity who created the universe exist as well? Or did my being a monster provide evidence that there was no god – because who could create such a despicable creature?

It had been far more evocative a topic to Carlisle who had spent much of his life after his transformation pondering these questions, but in all truthfulness, it never bothered me much. I adjusted well to this life. I understood why I was changed and didn’t long for my humanity the way some of my other family members did. Of course, I hated the risk I posed to human life, but my conscience felt clear as my record remained clean. I never endured any self loathing for what I was.

Only now did I question myself. Only now did I wrestle with the ramifications of my immortality. Only now did I feel in its entirety – I had experienced strong desires for human blood before but never like this – the true shame of lusting for the end to someone’s precious life. Only now did I truly feel like the monster I was.

I was finally recognizing the wrongness within me.

I was mistaken to feel resentful and angry with the human boy. He did not make me this way. I had always been this way. I had just been blind to the fact for all these years. I had been naive.

He was entirely innocent and deserving of the life he would live. One where his future would not be stolen in a high school biology classroom as his body emptied. One where he would graduate and go on to better schools. One where he would have a successful job in something he was interested in that provided him with purpose. One where he would meet someone smart and kind. One where he would marry, have a family, and grow old surrounded by his progeny.

I suddenly experienced a strange sensation. A feeling I hadn’t felt in years – jealousy. Though I’d never envied a human before, I envied the possibilities this boy had. I never mourned the choices that were no longer available to me. I graduated countless times. I held countless jobs. I felt fulfilled in providing to the world with our philanthropy and loving my family. In that, I found purpose. I didn’t care to have children.

But did I care to experience romantic love?

I loved romance, but I never minded that it was unattainable to me beyond the pages of a novel. I’d met other vampires, but were the odds in my favor to find a soulmate amongst such a rare kind? I didn’t think so, and I was fine with that. I was happy in my solitude. At times, I was the odd one out in my coupled-off family, but I had often felt like the odd one out in my previous life. It wasn’t a new experience, so I never cared. But in thinking of this human boy’s life, free of monsters, free of me, I came to the realization that unlike myself, he could have anyone he wanted. He was not bound by anything other than maybe his own inhibitions. He had the luxury of choice in every aspect of his life but also in love. He had simply the luxury of love itself.

Why were these thoughts coming to me now? I had so much time to ponder my existence, and suddenly this encounter had me incomprehensibly considering inessential things.

I take back my previous feelings about the boy’s innocence. He is stupid and culpable. He’s inspiring stupidity in me.

He’s very fortunate that I have a conscience. I could just as easily murder him in irritation of the havoc his existence is inflicting on my life.

I refocused my thoughts on the scenery before me, longing for the previous morning where I watched the verdant motion of the trees outside the car window after Emmett’s silly destruction of the novel I still had yet to fix. Somehow, it seemed like a long time ago.

In that memory, I eventually found a small moment of peace again.

No painted eyes could haunt me here.

And yet, I was left with a sense of uneasiness, feeling as if my life thus far had been a long exposition, and I had just encountered the inciting incident. I was feeling – though I’d been irrevocably altered once before – as if something would soon change me forever.

we all know stubborn bella wouldn’t yeet herself to alaska like edward’s dramatic ass. hope y’all enjoy hehe <3