#i could go on and on about how this is just upsetting and like sometimes when people learn that i have bpd they're surprised
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until-my-teeth-fell-out · 2 days ago
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[Image ID: A tweet thread that says "a common ocd fear is becoming a pedophile? uh what" replied to with "Yes it's one of the most common intrusive thoughts" the first user replies with "that's psychotic i have intrusive thoughts constantly and like 5 diagnosed mental illnesses and and never are my thoughts 'fuck kids'".
Another user shares this thread and adds "'that's psychotic' well, yeah, it's a mental illness."
Another user retweets this user and says "funny how people have very little sympathy for ocd, bpd, schizophrenia etc. when they're exposed to symptoms that they can't romanticize. There's nothing fun, pretty, or enjoyable about mental illness. We're not exactly having a good time." /End ID]
Maybe this is friendly fire but the "I have mental illness but I'm not like THAT" folks... I think they're really just "does not have this disorder but assumes they do because they're upset sometimes OR has something like low support needs autism or ADHD or mild depression and anxiety which still do have stigma around them but aren't exactly known as the 'wah scary murderer' disorder so they've never had to experience this for one day in their lives but pretend they could just to insert themselves in other disorder spaces and then push the people actually belonging to that space out"... if you know what I mean.
Also that person calling this "psychotic" PISSES ME OFF. That's not what that means. That's not what ANY of that means!
Not to mention, intrusive thoughts can't win! At least 90% of the time. Saying things like that can make OCD worse for people but really, you're not going to go out and become a murderer! You're not going to wake up one day and hurt your loved ones!
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hi !! i was thinking about logical by olivia rodrigo when she sings "said i was too young i was too soft, can't take a joke can't get you off" and it got me thinking of rupert campbell black x younger!reader getting into a huge argument about something and he says that to her in the heat of the moment and then maybe they end up having make up sex idk
thank you <33
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February Sky.
The highs are so high, but the lows are so low.
rupert campbell black x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. angst. so much use of the word darling. this might be a tiny bit toxic, but...
word count - 2.3k
authors note - title taken from logical by olivia rodrigo (which fits him so well, by the way). thank you for this request, erica!! it works so beautifully. I tried not to make it too toxic, but I think rupert is a tiny bit toxic, regardless. oops. and yet we love him anyway.
masterlist. inbox.
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“What’s the matter?”
You’re curled up in the armchair by the fire, cup of tea warming the palms of your hands as the flames warm your toes. You’re still wearing your ballgown, hair still pretty in its updo and makeup still perfectly done.
“Darling,” you hear come from the kitchen, where he’s no doubt pouring himself a whiskey.
You stay quiet, taking a sip from your mug and sitting in your frustration.
Rupert appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame and taking in the sight of you. The first thing he observes is how cosy you look. The second thing he observes is how annoyed you look.
“Darling,” he repeats, walking over to kneel in front of you. “What’s the matter? Did you not have a good time?”
You’ve gotten very good at picking your battles with Rupert. Sometimes, you let go of whatever’s bothering you to save yourself the aggravation of an argument. Other days, much like today, you just can’t seem to keep a lid on your anger.
“I was having a good time until you made me feel stupid in front of everyone.”
“W-what? What are you talking about?”
You look down at him, his wide eyes staring up at you with genuine confusion painted across them.
“When I told that story about the horses, at the dinner table. I saw that look you gave Bas. It was like you were laughing at me, not with me.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel stupid. You know I wouldn’t do that.”
“Do I? You did the same thing a few weeks ago at Lizzie’s. You so easily undermine me when I’m speaking with a look or a laugh. That’s all it takes, and you don’t even realise.”
“Darling, I’m just joking with my friends. I’m not sure why you’re taking this so personally. It’s a non issue that you’re making into an issue.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Well I could argue that it’s not fair that you’re telling me that I make you feel stupid. That’s an accusation that’s not fair.”
He gets up, moving to stand by the fire with his glass in his hand.
“I feel like you’re just dismissing me,” you say quietly, squeezing the mug tighter in your hands.
“Because you’re acting like a child.”
“You’re treating me like a child,” you retort quickly, sitting up straighter in your chair.
“Look, darling. Maybe this is just our gap in life experience rearing its head. You’ve got a lot to learn, and sometimes it shows.”
“You know, our age gap only becomes a problem when you make it a problem. You want a sweet, young girlfriend until she acts her age, and then it’s an issue.”
“Because you can be so mature, and then all of a sudden you’re throwing a tantrum like a child,” he fumes, placing his glass down on the mantelpiece and folding his arms over his chest. “You’re young and you’re soft, I’m not oblivious to that. But sometimes you can’t take a joke - or sometimes you miss the joke completely. It’s not my fault if you twist that into me making you feel stupid.”
You put your mug down onto the side table, willing yourself not to get upset. You stand up so you’re no longer below him, still keeping a distance between the two of you. Breathing in deeply, you exhale shakily in an attempt to keep yourself and your composure together.
“You’re acting like my age is something that came up later, Rupert - and that’s not true at all. You knew how old I was when we met. You knew I was significantly younger than you.”
“Yes, I did. Maybe I just wasn’t aware of how often it would come up as a point when we argued.”
He leans against the fireplace wall, sharp features illuminated by the light of the flames. All that can be heard are the sounds of wood crackling and two sets of lungs heaving for breath.
“You’re making me feel like I’m insane,” you burst suddenly, sick of biting your tongue. “You’re acting as if everything is all my fault. When will you take some responsibility, Rupert? When will you hold your hands up and say ‘do you know what - I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it’, hmm? Why do I always have to apologise?”
“Darling-”
“No, I’m sick of it. One minute, you’re telling me our age gap doesn’t matter because we’re in love and I’m mature and intelligent and everything you need - and the next minute you’re treating me like some sort of virginal lamb that doesn’t know the difference between left and right. Make up your mind, because you’re making me dizzy.”
“If you’re so sick of it, why are we doing this? If you are so sick of it, you know where the door is, darling. I’m not forcing you to stay here.”
That’s all it takes for the tears to start falling, hot and heavy down your cheeks. Your sadness seems to be uncontrollable, stemming from your chest and humming through your veins. You’re surprised you’re not turning blue, a perfect personification of sorrow.
You stand your ground and cry in place, refusing to move to him for comfort. Eventually, he breaks first, unable to watch you sob any longer.
“My darling,” he soothes, striding across the space to wrap his arms around you. “My sweet girl.”
His nicknames only make you cry harder, burying your face in his crisp white dress shirt and undoubtedly getting makeup all over it. He doesn’t care, one hand gripping the back of your neck while the other wraps around your waist to pull you closer.
“That was really mean,” you blubber into his chest. “Do you actually want me to leave?”
“No,” he reassures, rocking you in his arms gently. “No, darling. No. God, that’s the last thing I want. Honest.”
“Why did you say it then?”
Your voice is muffled, face still pressed against him. He smells so familiar and masculine and Rupert that it only makes you cry more.
“I… I don’t know,” he confesses, squeezing you tighter. “I shouldn’t have. You know me, I- I say things I don’t mean when I’m angry.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Your fingers are gripping the back of his shirt, holding on for dear life.
“I know, darling. I know.”
You sniffle as you pull back slightly to look up at him, surprised to see his eyes teary and glistening.
“Do you love me, Rupert? Because, because- if you… if you really wanted me to leave… you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“Sweet girl,” he breathes, cradling your face in his hands. “Of course I love you. The fact you even have to ask breaks my heart. I don’t want to you leave - I love having you here. And god forbid, if something bad did happen between us… we both know we wouldn’t stick around and pretend that this is something it’s not.”
Part of you knows that he’s good at this - saying exactly what you want and need to hear. The rest of you is stupidly relieved, letting his words wash over you like a balm on a scrape.
“I didn’t like it when you laughed at me tonight. One, because it made me feel stupid, and two… because I don’t want people to doubt us. You know what they’re all like. They see the tiniest crack and dig their fingers into it until it’s a gaping wound that they can all gossip about.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” he murmurs as he sweeps his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. “I shouldn’t give them any ammunition. I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t realise it would upset you so much. There was no malicious intent on my part, I swear - it was just a joke between friends. You know Bas adores you.”
“I know,” you half chuckle. “He tells me every single time he sees me.”
“Exactly,” Rupert grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “But no one adores you the way I do. I can promise you that.”
You nod, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your head against his chest. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, meaning you can feel his warm skin against your cheek, comforting and familiar.
“Rupert?”
He hums, encouraging you to continue.
“Will you stop bringing up my age when we argue? I don’t ever mention that you’re older than me, but you’re so quick to call me young or inexperienced or a baby.”
“Yes, darling. I’m sorry that it seems like a focal point for us - it’s not, I swear.”
“You kissed me.”
“Hmm?”
“You kissed me, that day in the garden. Not the other way around. You made the move first. I’m not some innocent girl chasing after you because I’m naive and too young to know any better.”
“I know that. I kissed you because I thought you were the most magnificent girl I’d ever met. I still do.”
He tightens his arms around you, gently rocking you like a child again.
“I don’t want to argue anymore,” you mumble, sighing deeply.
“Neither do I, darling. We’re finished with the arguing now. Promise.”
Rupert takes half a step back, to give him a better look at you. You still look beautiful, even if you do have mascara running down your cheeks and lipstick smudged across your face.
“I love you,” he murmurs as he leans in to kiss you.
“I love you too,” you manage to mutter against his lips, kissing him back as hard as you can.
He kisses you carefully, methodically, as if he’s worried he’ll spook you and you’ll take off running. He’s keeping you close, hands gripping your hips to plaster your body to his. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging the dark locks with a little too much force, which he doesn’t seem to mind.
Rupert walks you both towards the fire, lips never parting from yours. His hand finds the back of your dress, pulling down the zip in one smooth movement. It falls to your feet, kicked to the side in disregard. He sits down in the armchair and pulls you with him so you’re straddling his lap, legs on either side of his hips and arms thrown around his neck.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, fingers tracing patterns up and down your bare back.
You press kisses into his neck and down his chest, the hair there tickling your face as you do it. Your hips have slowly started to move against his, both of you out of breath as the stakes get higher and higher.
He undoes the zip on his trousers, smirking when you whimper at his knuckles brushing your wet core. He pulls them down just enough to free himself, not worried about getting completely undressed.
“I want these off,” he instructs, pulling at the waistband of your underwear. “Now, darling.”
You wiggle them down your legs, kicking them off one foot in the direction of your dress. You’re fully naked in his lap, while he’s still wearing his shirt unbuttoned with his trousers halfway down his thighs. You both look debauched, more scandalous than you could ever imagine. You wish for a moment that you had a mirror, desperate to watch the way you need each other.
You take matters into your own hands and line him up, sinking down slowly so you can savour the stretch. It burns just right, the slight ache a welcome intrusion.
“Shit, darling. That’s it. Good girl.”
Tangling your fingers into the back of his hair, you start to wind your hips up and down - gently at first, and then with more vigour. Rupert lets his head loll back into the chair, exposing that gorgeously tanned neck of his. You nip at it with your teeth, grinning when he groans all low and slow.
He cups your tits, squeezing and pinching as he begins to buck his hips to meet yours. You’re determined to do all the work yourself, but he can read your body language like a book, whether you like it or not. He knows you’re getting tired, but will point blank refuse to admit it.
One of his hands slinks between you to rub firm circles onto your clit, both of you moaning when you clench down around him. He can tell you’re almost there, just needing the tiniest push to throw you over the edge.
“There we go, good girl. My good girl. All mine.”
That’s all you need, back arching and legs shaking as you reach your climax. Yours triggers Rupert’s, the most delicious groan leaving his mouth as he comes. He looks like a Greek God, all chiseled and glistening in the firelight.
Burying your head into the crook of his neck, you breathe him and try to calm your pounding heart. You can feel his heart battering against his chest where it’s pressed against yours, bodies tangled together in the armchair.
The two of you catch your breath for a while, revelling in the warmth of the fire and the company of the other. Eventually, Rupert carries you upstairs, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear and stroking your hair as he does it.
I was wrong, earlier, you think as he tucks you into bed and immediately climbs in next to you, plastering himself to your back. No one could love me like Rupert does.
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i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, even if I sound like a broken record…
reblogs are gold dust to writers!! reblog the fics you read and enjoy, and your favourite writers will keep writing them for you!! it really is that simple!! <3
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chimivx · 2 days ago
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“…i want you, bless my soul…”
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Four months.
You met him on your first day in your first class, your professor the agitated type, the kind that gave you piles of homework with every lesson. He sat beside you, slipping into his chair right before the syllabus slid onto the table in front of you.
Dark hair cut short in the back lived a little more free in the front, on the top, growing into a messier, curlier mop as the weeks drew by, on and on. Tall, broad, and most definitely strong as hell, he was gorgeous. There simply wasn’t any other word for it, he walked into class every week with his golden skin aglow no matter where the sun lived in the sky. You’d be lying if you said your stomach didn’t twist in knots watching his wide eyes scan the room, standing there near the doorway in a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans clasped to his waist with a leather belt.
What in the fucking Calvin Klein ad just walked in here?
Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, please don’t-
He wore Dior Sauvage, just enough of it to charm your eyes in his direction, the two of your glances meeting for only a few seconds, yet long enough to know that this was going to be a long semester.
After that first week, that first class, he showed up on time, sometimes even earlier than you, and sure enough he’d be in that seat and he’d offer you the tiniest smile while he pushed in his chair to let you pass behind him.
Did he own any clothes that fit?
It felt like every week he’d have on a new shirt that clung to him like seran wrap, every little chiseled sculpted by Michaelangelo notch in his body, his chest, completely and utterly visible. As if he didn’t know it, more than enough time in class he’d spend with his hands behind his head, his biceps tightening in his sleeves, bulging beneath the fabric that you waited to see rip.
Too often you’d have to tear your eyes away, too lost in wonder as to what kind of marvel sat beside you. Six foot something, perfectly built, not only did his appearance alone catch you off guard, but his ability to be so gentle. A smiley, sappy giant full of tooth rotting sweetness. Each raise of his hand, how he toyed with his pen between his firm fingers, the way he’d listen to other people speak — his eyebrows pulling up in the center, his eyes widening with wonder. He’d keep to his space, never once invading yours. Respectful, he knew to say hello, goodbye, would ask you quiet questions, like what page number you were on, and he’d give you thanks into oblivion.
It wasn’t until a month or so had passed that you realized it. One morning you stood in front of the mirror for too long, put a little too much effort into your makeup, into your hair. Spritzing a bottle of perfume to your wrist that you saved for special occasions, when the glass tapped back onto the shelf and you dabbed your wrists together, you gasped.
Damn.
Swapping the lacey sweater for something more casual, you know, for class, you pulled half of your hair up and back, letting some of it hang forward, praying to anyone who’d help that it didn’t look like you woke up before your alarm to get ready for a class you half cared about.
He noticed.
He sat down, walking in a few minutes after you, and his eyes lingered in your direction. Not that you could tell, nor were you paying attention, you were sitting backward in your chair with your nose in your phone. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t good at being nonchalant like you’d been for nearly two months now.
Besides, it didn’t work. He didn’t say a word the entire class, only his hello and his goodbye.
It didn’t upset you. That’s what you told yourself, the lies you fed your brain to pretend to feel better. It didn’t upset you, he was a boy in a class you didn’t see anywhere else on campus. He probably had a girlfriend. Look at him, listen to him, he definitely has a girlfriend.
By the next class you were back to the usual, the snoozed my alarm twice before getting up in a rush, a hoodie and baggy jeans. Hair thrown up, makeup minimal, you accepted your fate.
You weren’t expecting him to be in the room first, you’ve narrowed down his time frame of entry, typically within ten minutes of the lecture starting depending on when you’d arrive. He was five minutes too early. Giving him the tightest smile, you shimmied behind his chair and mimicked his greeting, shoving yourself into your seat, not prepared for fifteen minutes of silence with him beside you.
Nose in phone, nose in phone.
It was all you could do to keep from gawking, for some reason he was fresher than normal. Black t-shirt, denim jacket on the back of his chair, silver jewelry hanging off of him. He wore a different cologne, one you couldn’t pick out, but god it was delicious you wanted to lick it straight off his neck. He definitely sprayed it to his wrists too, typical, you could lick it off of him there too, why not. Maybe even his chest. No- anything beneath that shirt that should be squeezing the air out of his lungs was lethal, how was every muscle visible? How could he walk around like that, he had to know that-
“Did you do the homework?”
Great.
You didn’t dress yourself up to keep the giddy high school level crush on the DL, but the way you jumped at his words and your cheeks warmed definitely helped. And, yes, you were staring.
“I, uh, yeah, I did.”
If he noticed anything, he didn’t show it.
“Mind if I see it to make sure I got it right? You’re better at this than I am.”
Juvenile, all of it, from the way he checked his answers to the way he slid your notebook back over to you with a shake of his head. Nothing else was shared, the class had begun and he focused on your irritating professor who assigned similar homework for the third week in a row.
Holding onto the way he spoke to you, the soft tone, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle graveliness he forced but then got rid of when he answered questions aloud, you truly felt seventeen years old all over again.
He asked you a question.
He talked to you.
Did he spend more time on how he looked for you?
No, it’s for his girlfriend. The one he definitely has.
The girlfriend that he-
“Whatever perfume you had on last week… I liked it.”
He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wait around for you to say anything. He scooped his books into his arms, and he walked out of the classroom, leaving you in absolute shambles. Nerves lived within you for a week, so many nights spent lying awake thinking about him, what he said to you, what you were going to do. If you wear the perfume again you’re setting yourself up for exposure, you may as well just tell him you have a crush on him to his face. But, then again, if you didn’t wear it, you’d lose his interest. He wouldn’t think you had an interest in him, and what if he told you that because he does have an interest in you?
Oh god.
What if he knows?
You wore the perfume. One spritz of it over your heart before you left your room, enough that he’d just be able to tell if he paid as much attention as he suddenly seemed to be.
Early again, beating you to a class you tried to get to even earlier today, you did not miss the small smile that pulled at his lips as you slipped behind his chair. It was the only thing shared all class, a smile somewhere in between lessons when he caught your eye. He had that same cologne on, the one from last week, the one that had you envisioning what it’d be like to have your tongue dragging all over his body, it was hard to not look at him.
Oh, he definitely knew.
And so it began.
For another month, perfume and cologne alike, worn every class, you started to share more than smiles. He’d lean your way for questions and answers, would ask about the homework, the assignments, sometimes when he didn’t even need it, asking for an answer he already had scribbled on his paper. Fighting the nerves, the way your belly filled with butterflies and did cartwheels within you, you started to share more than just classroom talk. While you worked you chatted, you learned where he was from, where he came from, where you came from and why you both were here.
He was funny.
Funny in the way he didn’t know he was funny, oftentimes asking you what he did to make you laugh like that. You’d cover your mouth and pray the giggles away, unable to tell him how adorable he really was.
He filled every shoe you profiled him with. Kind, sweet, funny, gentle giant.
Chiseled chest his cologne, the one you loved, radiated from.
But you didn’t figure that out until the following month.
Month four.
Four months was all it took, and he was yours.
Class whispers turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into homework dates, which turned into dinner dates.
By the end of the third you were wrapped in his sheets, wrapped in him, cologne on your tongue and lips pressed to his, whispering confessions of how long you liked each other but both felt too nervous to say anything. Reveling in pride, that you weren’t as obvious as you thought yourself to be, his sparkling grin overtook his face and he whispered two words that cradled your heart.
“I knew.”
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the-secret-keeper · 3 days ago
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Where MC Tells the Obey Me Brothers About How Horribly They Were Treated in Twisted Wonderland
This was requested by @sweetlicorice I hope you like it! It was taking longer than expected, so I only did the brothers, but I will do the dateables in a part 2, don't worry.
TW: Talk of being Overworked and Burnt Out, Abuse of Power, Very Angry Demons (but not at you), mental breakdowns, missing a pet (he's not dead, don't worry), and nightmares
Reader is referred to as MC by the characters (though I don't think they say it here) and MC is gender neutral, but this is mostly in second person, so for the majority of the story you'll be referred to as 'You' by the narrator.
Characters include: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor
Could be read as romantic or platonic
This will be long, so the stories under the cut
This is organized by character, with a bit of context at the beginning. Enjoy!
First, it was a coffin. You were kidnapped by a horse-drawn hearse, woke up in a coffin, in another world. A world of magic, and wonder, but also one of pain, as you quickly learned. But you met people. You made friends, allies, and you were learning, even if you couldn't use magic.
And then, it was you landing rather harshly in a room that looked like an old-time, very fancy courtroom, surrounding by tall and intimidating looking young men. It was soon explained to you that you were in the Devildom, and were an exchange student, one that would be living with the Seven Deadly Sins for your own protection.
You didn't know what to feel. Gratitude for the much improved living conditions? Fear for living with a bunch of demons and going to school with demons that would likely have no qualms with snapping you in two if you stepped out of line? Sadness for the friends that you don't know how to get back to? Upset for being forced to leave the place you were finally starting to feel like you fit in at and having to leave Grim? It was a whirlwind inside, and for a time, that's where it stayed. Kept inside.
Slowly, the Devildom revealed to have similar problems as Twisted Wonderland, in the fact that it seems everyone in power here, aside from Diavolo and Barbatos, would like you to die.
Most of the brothers tried to kill you. One of them succeeded! Congrats to them you guess, though, no offense to Belphie, you don't think it was particularly hard for a demon to kill a human.
Through all of this, you got closer to those you were staying with, even forgiving Belphegor after everything. It only made sense that eventually, what happened to you, you started to open up to them about your past. About those that you met and bonded with, all that had been put onto you, and all that was different.
Lucifer:
You were in his office, as you did somewhat often. It was quieter in there than it was in most of the house, and no one would bother you if you were with him. Plus, sometimes he would let you take care of some of his paperwork, just the stuff that wasn't too sensitive or important, but it lightened his load a bit.
"Why do you insist upon helping me?" He asked, not looking up from his paper, as you looked at your own.
"I'm used to doing more work, and if it makes your job easier, then I don't mind." You shrugged.
"More work? Do you mean like a job?" He asked, somewhat curious. Your file had listed a lot, but you had, apparently, been missing for a while when you were brought to the Devildom, so he didn't know what you had been doing before coming there.
"Something like that." You vaguely answered, finishing a paper.
"I am always here if you need to talk." He glanced up at you, as you pulled out your homework instead.
"Thank you."
A comfortable silence fell over the you two. The ambiance of the fireplace, paired with the low volume on the record he was playing, along with the light scratching of his pen, was calming. His office was always dimly lit, enough to see easily, but also darker than the average room.
It was a quiet environment that reminded you of the days when you would sit in the office of Crewel, him taking pity on the amount of work shoved on you and attempting to help at least a little. Or the days when you would study with Ace and Deuce in the Heartslabyul Common Room, Riddle sitting nearby doing his own paperwork, and Grim resting lazily along your shoulders. It was comforting, yet sad, at the same time.
"Back, in the place where I was," you started softly after a few moments of silence, "there was more that was required of me."
"In what way?" He asked, and though you couldn't tell, off in your own world, he had stopped doing his paperwork to focus on what you were saying, fully enraptured in wanting to know your backstory.
"The headmaster, at my last school, his name was Dire Crowley. And he was terrible at his job." You laughed bitterly. "I showed up there one day, against my will, and practically started running the place once he thought I could handle it, or when he was certain I wouldn't complain." You glared at your paper, thinking back on all that was unfairly thrown at you.
"Like what?"
"Paperwork, was the majority." You answered without thinking. "But there were.... others."
"Others?" He prompted after a few moments of a now, much tenser, silence.
"Your demon form is scary." You looked at him, making eye contact. "But it is not as scary as facing seven Overblots within the span of a year."
"Overblots?"
"The manifestation of out of control magic and strong negative emotions that result in the transformation of the magic user, and the creation of a sort of monster. The magic user loses control of their entire being, and it's very taxing on the magic user." Your eyes were glazed over as you seemed to recite the information with no emotion in your voice. "I don't blame them, for Overblotting, and losing control, the world is cruel. I do blame Dire Crowley, however, for making me responsible for dealing with them."
"That sounds dangerous, for someone without magic."
"It was." You agreed, still looking towards him.
Not at him, but through him, as if you weren't registering how much you were saying. This made him all the more concerned, as he got up and walked over to you, sitting beside you.
"I was also responsible for whatever Dire Crowley wanted me to do. Feed the fireplaces over winter break, find out why our sports players are getting injured, stop that one student from taking over the student body, house these people for this inter-school competition, and on, and on." You listed, beginning to spiral. "I practically ran that school. Me! A magicless human who had no idea what they were doing or where they were or how to handle what was happening to me. He stuck me in a shack, filled with mildew, and mold, that was covered in dust, infested with ghosts, and falling apart at the seams with a fire-breathing cat. And he didn't even make me a student at first!" You looked at Lucifer, tears pricking your eyes. "I was a janitor! And when another student got myself, Grim, and another student in trouble, he was going to throw me out! Onto the streets with no understanding of the world, how it functions, or anything at all!"
Lucifer nodded, trying to get you to calm down silently, wanting to hear about your past, even though it was painful.
"And he'd threaten me, Lucifer! He'd threaten my housing, my food budget, and I had no means of income! I couldn't pay for myself in any regard, I was completely dependent on him! I was his little puppet. The puppet of the 'oh so gracious Dire Crowley'." You began to sob as emotions started to overcome you, them all spilling out as you finally let yourself feel safe enough to feel these emotions. "I was so scared! About what would happen to me, and my friends. I didn't know what the next day would bring."
He brought you into his chest, hugging you tightly, and allowing your tears to stain his red vest. He let you sob and weep as you finally allowed yourself to process the emotions you'd been keeping inside this whole time. He kept his breathing even, trying to get you to match it subconsciously, and he gently rocked you, trying to calm you down as best he could.
"I miss Grim!" You cried out, into his chest. "I miss him so much that it hurts. I feel so anxious without him around."
He didn't ask who Grim was, but he knew it was someone important. He'd ask you about it when you were calmer, for now, he'd just let you cry to your hearts content. It had been a long time since someone had come to him, and allowed him to see them crying, but he didn't mind it so much when it was you. He took pride in being someone you felt safe enough to cry around.
No more paperwork got done that night, but he didn't care. You were more important at that point in time, and Diavolo would understand, he assured you of this, when you tried to apologize for taking up his time and crying on him. He brought up that Diavolo would be more mad if he hadn't comforted you, which made you laugh. You were so tired from crying that not long after you calmed down, you drifted off in Lucifer's arms, on the couch in his office.
Mammon: 
You were hanging out in Mammon's room one night, trying to help him study. Mammon was a lot smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for, the main issue you were having was the effort in which he was putting in. Which was zero. He was much more interested in his video game than his homework, despite the fact that Lucifer had threatened to string him up from the ceiling should he not get a satisfactory grade.
It was almost nice, how familiar this felt. The arguing with him about studying gave you a nostalgic feeling, for when you would study with your First Year friend group, and you would try to pry Ace away from his video games. It was never effective, much like now, but the nostalgia made you keep trying to convince him.
Mammon himself didn't seem to notice the effect this was having on you, too focused on his video game. Not that you cared, better for him to remain oblivious that try to pry your secrets out of you.
You sighed, closing the textbooks that you had brought in, accepting the fate of his grade, and making a mental note to find a spot to at least try to hide him from Lucifer. You watched as he played the game for just a few more minutes before you crawled over, sitting beside him as he played, watching the screen.
"Why're ya so good at homework in the Devildom anyway?" He asked, in the blunt way he normally does.
"Diavolo adjusted my curriculum because I don't know much about the Devildom, so I get assignments that are easier." You admitted, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I appreciate it, my last headmaster wasn't nearly so accommodating." You mumbled bitterly, thinking back on that incompetent headmaster.
"Really? How's that?" He asked, only half-paying attention, as he spam-clicked the button on the controller to his video game.
"Eh, don't think too much about it. Crowley was stupid, and though he claims he was gracious, he was really anything but. At least to me."
"What's 'at supposed to mean?" He asked before exclaiming nonsensical, frustrated sounds at his loss in the video game.
"I was basically his Barbatos, but I wasn't paid. Hell," You laughed mirthfully, "what money I was supposed to get was threatened, actually. More than once."
"Really?"
His attention was still diverted, and you noticed this. He was likely only wanting to hear your voice for background noise while he played, but you didn't mind so much. At least now you can say you told someone. Even if he wasn't listening.
"Yeah, Crowley threatened my food and housing budget more than once. And he'd push all his work onto me, even though I really shouldn't have had that much responsibility put on me. After all, I was someone without magic in a magic-teaching school, from another world. I didn't know anything." You shrugged lightly, trying not to move Mammon's arm too much, because your head was still resting on his shoulder. "I can't say I miss that part of it."
"What do ya miss then?" He asked, eyes still glued to the screen.
"My friends. I had a group of friends that were pretty tight-knit. Trauma bonded, more like it." You laughed. "And Grim. I miss Grim."
"Grim?"
"My cat."
"Ya sound like Satan."
"Grim was a special cat. He could use magic, and fly, and talk. You remind me of him sometimes." At that he finally paused the game to look at you.
"I, remind ya of... a cat?" He asked incredulously.
"Yeah." You smiled, laughing lightly. "He was sarcastic, and demanding, and greedy. He called me Henchman, you call me Human." He rolled his eyes. "But underneath your... bravado, is a very nice person, who cares a lot. Grim and I... we only had each other. So it just makes sense that we bonded. I miss him, a lot. He used to sleep in my bed, and he'd always be there with me. I've been having trouble sleeping without him. It just feels like there's something missing." You admitted in a soft and sad tone. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders.
"I'll be yer Grim 'til we can convince Diavolo or Barbatos, or maybe Solomon to get yer cat." He said quietly, rubbing your upper arm. "Ya can sleep in here whenever ya need, ok?" You nodded. "Wanna watch a movie?" You smiled at him, nodding once more, as he turned the TV to one of the bajillion streaming services the family all pay for, because they share, and arguing with you about the best movie to watch.
Leviathan:
Leviathan was out in public with you, having gone to an anime themed event at a cafe in the Devildom. He was so excited, that you just couldn't resist when he asked if you wanted to go with. It was nice to hear him rant and ramble about all the things that he was passionate about.
"There's a cat in the anime that waitress is from! And he's super cool!" Levi started. "He can fly, and talk, and use magic. He's also very stubborn, like a donkey. But he's a favorite in the fandom because of how cute he is."
"I know someone like that." You mumbled without thinking, your mind wandering to your feline friend.
"You do?!" He asked excitedly.
"Yeah." You smiled. "His name was Grim, and he used to live with me, back in the time before."
"Really? Tell me more!"
"He wasn't super smart, or very hard working. He used to call me Henchman, and demand cans of tuna. But when it came down to it, Grim was the one I could rely on the most. But, that might also be because we literally couldn't leave each other." You told him.
"You couldn't?"
"No. I don't have magic, and he did. I'm human, he was a cat. The headmaster of my last school decided to be 'oh so gracious'," you quoted, making air quotes around his catchphrase, "and make the two of us one singular student, allowing us to attend his magic school."
"That seems... dumb. To say the least."
"It was." You deadpanned, before the both of you laughed. "He was a bad headmaster. Towards the end of my stay there, I was practically headmaster, just because of how much work he pushed onto me because he could. But while I was at that school I made friends. And I had Grim. Even if the situation I was in was less than ideal." You smiled as the waitress delivered the food you ordered, with a bundle of silverware.
"Ah. I bet you'd prefer them to an otaku like me."
"Not true!" You defended, pointing your fork at Leviathan. "I like you plenty fine, Levi. You actually remind me a lot of my friend Idia. But," you laughed awkwardly, "at least you leave the house sometimes, and aren't afraid of confrontation. Or, at least, you're not afraid to confront some people. Like your brothers." You set your fork down, stopping your silent threat at Levi, that wasn't actually very threatening to him.
"He was an otaku too?"
"Yes indeed, and a master gamer to boot."
"Better than me?"
"It's hard to say." You shrugged. "The games you guys play are similar, but different. It's not a fair comparison." He seemed placated by this answer. "Your brothers remind me of a lot of my friends from there." You said vaguely.
"Do you miss them?"
"Yeah. They're my friends, of course I miss them. And it's not like I know if and when I'll be able to see them again." You explained gently. "I don't miss the work though. Diavolo was nice and assigned me a tutor and easier assignments until I get the hang of the normal work here. And no one makes me do any extra work, or threatens my food or housing. Well, Lucifer threatens punishments sometimes, but he would never threaten my food or housing, and I won't get punished as long as I do my best and behave." You rambled, smiling at how nice it was here, compared to it was in Twisted Wonderland. "Plus, I have all of you, and Diavolo, and Barbatos, and the other exchange students. I miss my friends from there, and I really wish that I had Grim here with me. But I am happy here." You beamed.
"Maybe if we ask Lucifer, he may know how to get your cat." Leviathan suggested, smiling lightly.
"I would love that. He acts like Mammon, but he feels like an emotional support cat. And, I bet Satan would seriously love having him here too."
"You know, we're all here. If you want to talk."
"I know." You glanced around. "What anime is that cosplay from?" You asked, gesturing at another waitress, changing the subject.
He glanced, and started beaming, immediately launching into a rant about the anime it's from, and the character themself. It was nice that he didn't question the change in subject. You'd tell Levi and the others all about what happened to you, and about what Twisted Wonderland was like. Eventually. Maybe.
Asmodeus:
Saying Asmo was flirty, was an understatement. Possibly the understatement of the century. And while he flirted and charmed nearly every being in existence, he did understand consent, and took every no at face value, stopping when asked. Of course, it's a rejection, so at the beginning you had to explain that no, you're not rejecting him as a person, you like him plenty fine as a person, you just don't always want to be flirted with.
He still did it, but when you asked him to stop he'd make a show of whining about it, but stopping nonetheless. It was annoying, but he did take your 'no' seriously, so in the end it was kind of worth it. Asmo was good for conversation, and he knew all the gossip, so he was nice to hang out with.
You had mentioned a handful of times that he reminded you of someone where you were from where you used to live. But all he ever said in response was that there was no one like him. Which is true, as no one else could truly embody Lust like Asmodeus does.
He was doing a skincare night with you, when you brought it up again.
"You know a lot about skincare already, it's quite impressive." He complimented.
"Yeah, had a friend who took it very seriously." You agreed.
"Is this the same friend that I remind you of?"
"Tis." You smiled, gently rubbing the moisturizer onto his face. "He was an interesting man."
"Interesting man? Interesting how?"
"He was insanely hard working, yet it seemed no one saw that." You started, taking a deep breath. "He was an actor, and social media influencer. And he was talented. Extremely talented. He worked hard to get where he was, but he had the means to get there."
"Anything else I should know about this person?"
"Well, he was good at potions. And like, just as good if not better than Satan and Solomon, good. He had the harshest study routine, but it was worth it. Never failed a potions class if he was tutoring me. He didn't have much time to do so, but I was always grateful when he did." You thought back on the memories fondly, smiling, as you stopped rubbing the moisturizer into his skin, and moving onto the next step. "His methods were.... intense, to say the least." Your smile became strained, remembering the VDC. "But, they got the results he wanted, so I guess he didn't see much issue with it."
"Intense in what way?" Asmo asked, noting your tenseness.
"I was appointed manager for a dance team, an interschool competition thing, you know how competitive people can get." You shook your head lightly. "They all came to live in my dorm because it was mostly empty. But, despite me being manager, he decided I needed to follow the same diet as everyone else. My friends said it was a 'we're all in this together' thing, but I thought he was just being unreasonable. I mean, come on, hexing my food? That's just wasteful. And he didn't even pay me back. I didn't get much money for food in general, because I was the magicless student, and there he went, just wasting what I had." You laughed mirthfully, remembering your anger at the situation, and your frustration.
"Well, in his defense, if he was just looking out for you."
"I would have no problems if that were the case, Azzy." You slightly chastised, but it was playful, and held no real bite. "I took your diet in stride, didn't I?" He nodded in acknowledgement. "I would've been fine with it, if that were the case. But he never paid me back for the food that he hexed, or replaced it. I didn't have much, so no one being able to eat those foods, it was wasteful. I mean, it's not like I got much money, if any, from the school for dorm food, like every other dorm."
"Why wouldn't you?"
"I was the magicless student. The errand person. The pushover. The unpaid therapist or headmaster. Depends on the day." You sighed. "The headmaster didn't want to have to rewrite the budget to factor in an extra dorm, when it only had two students in it, that really only amounted to one student."
"Wait, I thought you've mentioned before that you had a roommate."
"I lived with a fire-breathing, flying, talking cat named Grim, who could use magic, and several ghosts. I say technically one student, because the ghosts were faculty members, technically, but Grim had magic, and I didn't, but I was human and Grim was a cat. So, when I popped out of the woodwork, with no magic, no identification, no way to go home, and no clue about how this world worked, the headmaster was 'oh so gracious'," you mocked, "and put us both in a run down dorm, enrolled as a single student."
"Run down?"
"I mean Run Down. It was called Ramshackle, by other students, and it certainly lived up to it's name. The heater didn't work, I had to curl up with Grimm under every blanket I could find in that house. It was caked in mold and mildew, and dust, until Crowley cleaned it for the VDC. I injured myself more than once." You pointed to a scar on your forearm, where you'd hurt yourself in an attempt to fix up your dorm. "I am, honestly, very grateful, for the opportunity to stay here, in much better conditions. I do miss my friends, and I miss Grim." You admitted.
"Is that why you named that stuffed animal Grim? I thought you were just taking after Mammon in your greed."
"I miss Grim." You stated simply. "He was always with me. We were inseparable. We fought, we bickered, but at the end of the day, I knew if there was one thing, one being, I could rely on consistently, it was Grim. He was my ride-or-die. I named my stuffed animal after him, because I have a hard time sleeping without him. Even just, relaxing, can be hard. I miss him, and I don't know if he's ok. I genuinely, worry about him. And I miss him so much, that it's hard to fully put into words."
"I'm sorry." He offered, and you just smiled at him.
There was not much more Asmodeus could say. He couldn't provide you the comfort that you craved, as he was not your cat, nor could he get you your cat. So, he extended his sympathies, and access to his bed whenever you would like. For cuddles, or for more, he was always down for whatever.
He only hoped that his efforts to be there, and open for you, helped to heal you a little bit in the long run.
Satan:
Satan was nice to be around. He was curious, and he liked to know things and ask questions, so he did tend to pry into your past. But he was always good for book recommendations, and was always happy to discuss any book you wanted.
You found comfort in his fondness for cats, finding a kindred spirit in that regard. You didn't tell him about Grim, not wanting to get his hopes up about maybe meeting your beloved companion. He did notice your love of cats though, and had gotten you a giant cat plushie, as a gift.
You had named it Grim, and it lived on your bed. It was much quieter, and honestly, a bit boring compared to the real thing, but it was good for cuddling in the night when you couldn't sleep because you missed your furry friend. You were grateful that Satan had brought you just a bit of comfort in those moments, even if he didn't know it.
"I had a cat." You started one day when he started reading off cat facts enthusiastically after you had expressed the slightest bit of interest. "He was a rather interesting thing."
"Really? What was he like?" Satan liked to hear you talk about your past in general, but he was especially excited to hear about your cat.
"His name was Grim. And he was big, like 2 feet tall. He had a very distinct look about him. Grey fur, with a white chest," Satan nodded, listening intently, "bright, big, blue eyes. So round they almost looked scary sometimes. His ears, they had blue fire coming out of them, and his tail was shaped like a pitchfork. And he could use magic! He could breathe fire, and fly, effortlessly. He could talk too. Used to talk my ear off." You smiled fondly, happy to be able to talk about your favorite creature. "He'd call me Henchman, or Hench Human. He was a trouble maker. Mammon reminds me of him that way."
"Oh." Satan almost groaned.
"But much like Mammon, at the end of the day, push comes to shove, you can rely on him. That was one of the few things I knew for certain back then. Grim was the only one I could fully rely on. I had other friends, but Grim and I, we were inseparable. He was my best friend. He used to sleep in my bed with me, every night. I'm so used to it, it's honestly.... kind of hard to sleep without him." You admitted, laughing tiredly. "I miss Grim."
"Were you allowed pets, or familiars, at your last school?"
"No. No, I don't think we were." You answered after a moment of thought. "But Grim was a special case. He and I crashed the entrance ceremony. I wasn't supposed to be there, and got yoinked out of another world, but he was just straight up trespassing because he wanted so badly to go to that school, and become a great mage." You laughed at the memory. "He committed arson, I helped calm him down, and the rest is history. We weren't students, originally. We were janitors. The Headmaster only let us stay because I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I proved that Grim could be helpful."
"I thought you said you were a student?"
"I was. Half. I was half of a student." You smiled, taking a tired, yet fond, sigh. "I didn't have magic. But Grim did. So, Crowley determined that we would each be half of a student. He got us both into so much trouble, but he always helped me get out of it. I could always rely on Grim. Except in schoolwork," you admitted, laughing a little, "I was alone in that portion."
A million questions ran through his head, and you could tell the gears were turning. It was almost amusing, seeing him trying to decide on what topic to pick. Should he keep going about your cat? Pry about your headmaster? Ask about your clearly troubled past at this school?
He was quiet, but it wasn't tense, or awkward, just comfortable silence, as you patiently awaited his next question. You knew Satan would choose his words carefully, so as to not make you uncomfortable, so you had no fears. You really didn't want him to ask about Grim's homework habits though. Satan prioritized intelligence, and knowledge. You wanted him to have a good impression of Grim, since you thought the two would get along, despite Grim being similar to his older brother, Mammon.
It took him a few moments, you, peacefully sipping your favorite hot drink, as you waited patiently, reading your book, before he finally picked a topic.
"Was your headmaster, truly that bad?" He asked softly.
"His favorite trick to get me to do what he wanted, when I didn't want to, was to threaten me. My food budget, my housing budget, or even my security at the school. I had others I could rely on, should this happen. The other Housewardens tended to take pity on me when I would show up, practically begging for food, because Crowley wouldn't allow me to have any. They were good people. But I always made sure Grim had stuff to eat. I never let him suffer. He actually learned to share through this. But, a diet of tuna sandwiches, just isn't that good for your health. It was better than nothing though." You shrugged, not looking up from your book. You looked up, to see him looking at you, sadness painting his eyes. "I'm doing better now, Satan." You smiled.
"I don't want to pry, but I do have more questions." You took a deep breath.
"Can I answer them later?" You asked, to which he nodded.
"Take your time."
"Can you do me a favor?"
"Of course."
"Can you look through your books, to see if there's a spell, or an incantation, or a potion, or a ritual, that will help me get Grim? I'm worried about him, and, as you can see," you gestured to your eyebags, which Asmo had tried to hide using makeup, but it was late, so they were started to peek through, "being without him takes a toll. He's like my emotional support cat, you know? My sassy, lazy, loud, annoying, emotional support cat, that I love. And I miss."
"I'll see what I can do." He nodded. "No promises, but I'll look into it."
"That's all I ask." You smiled tiredly.
Beelzebub:
Beelzebub had eaten the majority of the fridge again, and it was your turn to make dinner. You sighed, as he looked at you guiltily. It was getting too close to when you absolutely needed to start cooking so you could serve dinner on time, so you couldn't go shopping for more. You just shook your head, and got to work taking everything out of the fridge and pantry, just to see what was left.
"I'm sorry." Beel offered. "I'll help you cook."
"I've done more with less." You said, not registering his offer, and looking over the ingredients that were left, as you had caught him before he could eat everything. "I just need some time."
"I didn't leave you much. I could go to the store, and get some more." He offered.
"Beel," You looked at him, smiling in amusement. "How much of what you get me would you eat on the way home?" He looked down guiltily once more. "I'm not mad," you assured, "really, I'm not. And I appreciate your offer of help. But I've got this." You smiled once more, before turning back to the ingredients, and picking up a few.
With what little you had, you'd started to make a large delicious meal. Beelzebub watched, in what could only be described as awe, as you stretched what you had into enough to feed the brothers, and something that tasted good. He still felt guilty about eating the majority of what you could've used to make dinner, but he was grateful you weren't mad, and he was curious as to how you knew how to make so little go so far.
After you served the brothers, you kept a little for yourself, and Beelzebub noticed. He noticed that you didn't take much, and when he tried to comment on it, you just winked at him, smiling. After dinner, he was designated for clean up, and you went into the kitchen to keep him company, as he had while you were cooking.
"How did you do that? There wasn't much left, but that was a good meal."
"My last school.... I didn't have much." You started vaguely. "My food budget was small, and often taken away, so I would take what little I was able to beg or barter for from the shop keeper, or the other Housewardens, or my friends, and I'd make it stretch. It helped that they often had some leftovers, especially Scarabia, with their feasts every week. And Jamil was a fabulous cook." You complimented, your mouth watering at the thought of his delicious and carefully prepared food. "But I digress. What I'd do is, I'd prepare meals in advance, as many as I could. I had to. Starvation sounded rather unpleasant, to me."
"It was that bad?"
"Not if I planned correctly." You smiled.
Beelzebub related to the feeling of hunger, and starvation. He was often brushed aside as always hungry because he's the Avatar of Gluttony. But the pain was always there, and it was hard to describe the pain aside from, hungry. You were always patient with him, even if he got grumpy because of his hunger, and now he was starting to see why.
If you understood the feeling of being hungry all the time, and starving to a painful point, it makes sense that you'd not get mad at him. It makes sense to him, that you'd be patient with him. He had always appreciated your patience and kindness, but he had never questioned it. Now he was starting to think he should've.
"Was it just you?"
"No. I had a cat with me. His name was Grim, and he was a lot like Mammon." You described cheerfully. "He mostly ate cans of tuna, which I could get for cheap at the school shop, they weren't super popular, and students tended to leave them at the shop after realizing they were the cheapest option of food I had." You laughed awkwardly. "It was a school of ruffians, and bullies, and people who hated me. But they had the decency to not want me to starve to death."
"You were hated?"
"By some. I wasn't popular, but I had my fair share of friends, don't worry." You assured. "I had the first years friend group, and the Housewardens, and the vice-housewardens and honorary vicehousewardens. Even a lot of the teachers liked me. And even if they didn't, I still had Grim. He was my best friend."
"Was?"
"He's still there, so he still is. We're just not together right now. It's like... it's like a part of me is missing, because he's my best friend." You tried. "And he's still there, but I can't see him, and I can't talk to him. I miss him, a lot. I think you'd like him." You smiled. "He used to sleep on my bed, every night. And he'd complain, and whine, and get both of us into trouble, but he was loyal to a fault, and he was always there when I needed him."
"Was your old headmaster that bad?"
"Oh yeah." You nodded enthusiastically. "He went on vacation so often, and it was more like I was the headmaster towards the end of my time there. What with the amount of paperwork and such I was handling in his stead. On top of schoolwork! And he put me in an old decrepit house, with a fire breathing cat. Granted, I asked for the cat to remain with me, but still. I'm sure he could've found somewhere else to put me."
"That sounds awful."
"It could be. But hey, think of it this way, now I'm prepared if you do this again." You teased. He nodded. "Don't feel too bad, Beel. You didn't even know I existed, you couldn't have done anything."
"I wish you would've told us."
"It's not easy to talk about." You admitted. "It's not like... I had the best experience with a lot of people there. I mean, Overblots, burnout, hunger, on top of basically being an unpaid therapist, an unpaid headmaster, and a full-time student? I was busy, and not every experience is a pleasant one. But it's a part of my life, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Because it was my experience." You explained. He nodded in understanding. "I think you'd like the people I met before. So many good cooks. And Lilia, who is on par with Solomon." You shuddered. "But there was also so many athletics clubs. I bet you'd really like Spelldrive." You smiled.
"Spelldrive?"
"Yeah!"
As you launched into an in-depth explanation of the sport, at least as you understood it, he simply watched. He was glad you'd opened up to him, and to hear that you weren't always alone. He would probably ask Satan if he could find anything about getting your cat for you. But for now, he was just happy to see you being comfortable enough to talk about your past.
Belphegor:
Belphegor liked to visit your dreams whenever you'd let him. They were always so interesting. They almost matched you, in that regard. As you were so strange in his eyes. He was very lucky, able to explore your good dreams. Dreams that told of friends, and adventure. Light hardship, sure, but mostly wonder. And happiness. Along with a cat that seemed to pop up in every dream. He didn't know that he only saw this because he didn't always tune into your dreams. Not every dream is a happy one.
It was one day, when you happened to be taking a nap in his general vicinity, that he drifted off, and entered your dream. He prepared himself for the bright light of the outside of Night Raven College, and for the happy smiling faces, or the sound of laughter, as he usually saw when he joined your in your dreams. What he wasn't expecting, was the fire. The screaming, the fear. He was prepared to watch on happily as you got to see your friends, the people you consider family, in your dreams, but instead, he only saw your terror.
He couldn't look away as you looked on in terror as eight towering figures, covering in black ink, with massive ink monsters behind them cornered you. He recognized some of these faces, they were those of your friends. They were friends, friends who would drive you to work harder, and do better, but would always be there to help in any way they could, if they could, when you asked.
But there was one face he was shocked to see, moreso than the friends. It was your cat. Your cat that had been changed into a hulking, massive beast, and it looked more wild than he had ever seen. It wasn't talking anymore, none of those smart ass comments he'd overhear, it was growling at you, roaring at you. It had never done that before.
Belphegor, unable to stand by as you feared for your life, even in a dream, quickly made his way to in front of you, his back to you.
"You need to wake up."
You heard him, but his voice was muddled in your panic, it sounded like he was under water. You looked at him in confusion.
"What?"
"Wake! UP!" He commanded.
You shot up, gasping for air, as you woke up. Belphegor followed not long after, making his way over, and sitting beside you, as you began to calm down from such a panic-inducing dream. He sat beside you until your breathing was under control, and you weren't shaking as much anymore.
You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, and feeling embarrassed. It wasn't often that you had these nightmares, but they were always intense and unpleasant when you did. You didn't think he knew, he'd never visited those dreams. It's not as though you were actively hiding it, you'd told him that you'd had nightmares before, but you were ashamed that he had seen them firsthand.
You both just sat in silence for several moments, before he spoke first.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, softly.
"They don't know about the nightmares. I mean, my closer friends do, but those who the nightmares are about, don't. They don't need that."
"Why are they in your nightmares? And why did they look like that?"
"They lost control of their emotions, and their magic overwhelmed them. They weren't in control, when they looked like that. That was their anger, and sadness, their pain, that was in control of them, with their magic creating the ink monsters behind them." You explained, quietly. "I don't blame them, no one can be expected to hold it together for so long, but that doesn't make it any less unpleasant."
"And your cat?"
"I don't know why I have nightmares about him like that." You admitted. "I think it's because I miss him, and I'm scared of what will happen to him without me there."
"How long have you had these nightmares?"
"They started after the first Overblot, that's what they're called," you explained simply, "but they only got worse as more Overblots happened."
"Was there no one you could go to?" You shook your head.
"I couldn't go to Crowley, he was useless," you laughed humorlessly, "the teachers were nice, but they couldn't do anything. I told my friends, and they tried their best, but nothing ever really helped. Grim used to sleep on my bed with me, and that would chase the nightmares away pretty well, but," you trailed off.
"You don't have him with you now, so the nightmares are back with a vengeance?" You nodded, smiling a little at his wording. He wrapped an arm around you. "Do you miss him?"
"I do."
He knew you did, he knew that was a redundant question. But he wanted to hear it from you, as a sort of confirmation. He felt bad that you missed your cat, and he wished he could do something about it, but he knew he couldn't. So you two just sat in silence, comforted by the warmth of the room, and the calm atmosphere around the two of you.
He had always wondered why, or even how, you'd taken his actions in stride. How you'd forgiven him so easily. He knew now, that it was just in your nature after having gone through so much at your last school. He decided in that moment that he'd make an effort to be the person to hold a grudge on your behalf, to let people know that you may have forgiven them, but he certainly hasn't, and he hasn't forgotten what they've done to you. He didn't voice this, but he knew that you knew how he felt.
But for now, you two just sat there, comfortable, and warm. He wanted to apologize, and say he'd do everything in his power to get you your cat, but he didn't want to say that without a guarantee that he could do it. So there you sat, close, and comfortable.
"I'll chase your nightmares away." He offered, just barely a whisper, yet because of your proximity, you heard it.
"Thanks Belphie." You smiled tiredly, happy to hear that he would protect your dreams.
You drifted off not long after, Belphie following close behind. But he kept his word, and your nightmares didn't plague you after that, whenever Belphie could help it.
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omega-e123 · 2 days ago
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Dude I’ve been having thots,, I must share them with you and get ur opinion or reaction especially since a lot of ur shadow smuts revolve around a certain hedgy having a breeding kink. Imagine if you’re on birth control tablets and he sees you taking them one day and you tell him what they’re for, I feel like he’d either get all grumpy and sad because oh boy does he have a massive breeding kink even if he knew rationally you probably were on some sort of contraception (that’s even if it could happen) or he’d get all gloomy n sad but would refuse to tell you because he thinks it’s silly and immature to feel that way especially if you’ve been together for a while, but I feel like he’d probably let it slip when you’re both getting freaky afterwards because it would mix in with his dirty talk about how hes gonna fuck the birth control out of you 💀
!! NSFW !!
This is in the time he’s not ready to be a father, but has the kink.
Shadow seems like the type of person to have discussed safety and methods prior along with whether or not if it’s even possible. He’s not going to take that risk, especially at your expense.
During the season, sometimes Shadow magically forgets. Absolutely fixated on you. Remembering causes him to get frustrated. The hell are you on pills for? You should be wanting a child just as mush as he does!
“Hmph. Do what you want. I won’t let something minor such as a pill get in my way. ”
Oh boy, if it moves on to sulking. The rush of emotions Shadow gets are definitely being internalized until it’s time to get down and dirty 100%. Like a balloon bursting as it slowly gets filled up with air. Those are rough sessions. Your poor legs won’t be working for a while.
Outside of rutting season, he rationally knows you’re on birth control pills. It still doesn’t lessen the embarrassment after Shadow’s hormones have calmed. His cheeks are going to match his gay highlights.
If the first time was spontaneous and he found out later down the line after multiple attempts, Shadow would absolutely be upset and annoyed. A pouty hedgehog is in your hands.
Grabbing you by the hips, Shadow leans in close. His breath tickling your lips, “You’re telling me all this effort attempting to put a baby in you was a waste of time?” A yelp is forced out of you when his hand slid down to firmly grab your ass. “Or perhaps, I need to try harder?”
Shadow struggling even more to keep his distance away from you, now knowing you’re on birth control. The pill is 99% effective and he is desperately trying to convince himself that 1% chance of it failing. Even then, that’s only if you’re taking them perfectly. Typical use is 91% effective. Odds are stacked against him, but Shadow is the ultimate life form goddamnit!
“Seven out of a hundred get pregnant on the pill… I’m determined to make you one of them.”
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lis-likes-fics · 14 hours ago
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spencer reid drabble
cw: mute!reader, american sign language usage, // means things said in sign
You look up as Emily comes in for the day. She’s a little late—only by a couple minutes—but it’s no big deal. She waves as she walks in. “Hey, everyone.” You all give her your greetings as she sets her purse on the desk (across from yours) with a hefty sigh. “How’s everyone doing?”
“Let’s see,” JJ says, twirling around in her chair and raising her cup. “Coffee, check. No case, double check. Doing great so far.”
You smile, leaning back in your own chair. You start to sign, your hands moving quickly as you go through a short recap. /Spencer got me this pastry from the bakery this morning, and it was so good./ Spencer’s voice easily narrates your movements.
“Sounds delicious,” Emily sighs, the sound so longing that you think she may be imagining a pastry of her own to munch on.
You’re selectively mute. As soon as you joined the team a few years ago, everyone loved you from the beginning. While they did their best in learning sign for you, Spencer was already a pro and did most of your translating.
He sits next to you—right now, at least. Hotch has gotten into the habit of separating the both of you when work gets slow. You indulge him and his distractions, even though you’re so quiet. You can’t be blamed! You like to listen to him speak. Who cares how much work is piling up?
It’s nice. You could go as fast as you wanted, and Spencer could always keep up with you. Sometimes when you were in the comfort of your own home, curled up on the couch with Spencer, neither of you would even say words. It would be a silent exchange where you would sit and “talk” for hours.
“Oh, damn it,” Emily mutters, sitting back in her chair and staring down at her lap. Her voice is laced with exasperation. “Not again.”
JJ hums. “Someone sounds cranky.” She peers over to get a better look at what’s going on.
A sharp breath passes through her. She starts toying with her belt, shaking her head briefly. “No, I just got this new belt a while ago, but it’s super crappy. This is my first time wearing it, and it keeps coming undone.” She fixes said belt, holding onto it like she’ll do it for the rest of the day if she has to. “If these pants weren’t so loose, I’d just take it off,”
You nod. Spencer speaks as you sign. “You should try Spencer.”
Everyone’s confused, including Spencer.
“‘Spencer’?” JJ wonders, eyeing you curiously, though amusement is shining in her gaze.
You have to hide your smile as you turn to Spencer, shaking your head gently. You go slow. /The clothes./
Spencer’s eyes immediately light up. “Oh!” he exclaims, turning back to everyone. He starts to sign as he speaks, and you’re not sure if he realizes he’s even doing it. “Sorry, suspenders. She’s saying you should try suspenders.”
Your laugh is silent, and you shake your head in your amusement. /Yeah. I used to wear them as a kid. I went through a phase./
They nod in understanding, but then Emily’s brow furrows and she chuckles. “Wait, do you call Spencer ‘Suspenders’?”
You shrug, glancing away. /They sound really similar…/ Spencer’s voice doesn’t match the quiet of your movements, but that’s okay.
He nods anyway. “Yeah. Emily, she calls you ‘Mystery’.”
Her face shines in surprise, a smile creeping on her lips. “Oh, cool,” she mutters.
JJ smiles big, leaning toward you and crossing her arms over her chest. Her interest is piqued now. “What about me?”
You purse your lips in the same way Spencer does, that awkward tight smile that you adore so much as you glance over at him. He mirrors your expression, clearing his throat and shrugging lightly. “She just signs J-2.”
Her shoulders drop a bit, her smile shrinking. “Oh,” she mumbles. A tiny sigh slips past her lips.
You rub your fist clockwise over your heart in apology. /It’s simple./
She shakes her head dismissively. “I get it.” She’s not really upset, but she had hoped for something more exciting. She turns back around to her desk to finish the work shining over her screen.
Emily looks at you past her computer, one brow raised with a curious grin. You forget how pretty she is sometimes. “Suspenders, huh?” she says quietly.
You shrug, your signs just between you and her. /He holds me up./ She laughs, muttering something about you being corny before she’s placing her attention back on her screen.
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possessiveandobsessive · 11 hours ago
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The Spirit of Determination
Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.
Part 2: Guilt is a Painful Poison
Rook had just made it to the bottom of the first set of stairs into the library and was preparing to head down the second when a voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Where are you going, Rook? Are you going alone?”
That voice, that damn voice. Smooth as velvet, with a deep rumbling tone that she could feel down in her core.
She closed her eyes. Of course it’s him. It’s always him. Rook turned to face Lucanis, who stood by the round table in the center of the space. This table was the one the team gathered around to discuss their upcoming plans of action, and Lucanis was standing directly behind the chair Rook normally sat in. He had his hands placed lightly on the back of her chair, and she couldn’t help but picture him doing this while she sat in it. She yearned to have someone who would always stand protectively behind her when she let her guard down, so that she actually could let her guard down. Now was not the time for those types of girlish fantasies, however. Rook was a Grey Warden, a soldier who stood between darkness and the people of Thedas. She wasn’t some damsel that needed protection or saving, no matter how badly she sometimes wished she could be. With that thought in her mind, she answered Lucanis.
 “I’m headed to Dock Town. Morrigan wants to meet me to discuss some things before we face the gods. I’ll be fine going alone. It’ll be a quick jaunt to The Cobbled Swan, there shouldn’t be any huge dangers that I can’t handle on my own.” 
Rook put on her best “I’m tough, I don’t need anyone” face as she said this. If he insisted on accompanying her, she wouldn’t be able to say no to him. She should go into a meeting like this with Morrigan clear-headed and focused, and she had trouble being either of those things with the handsome Crow around. Of course, he couldn’t back off and make it easy for her.
“Danger finds you every time you leave this Lighthouse, Rook. You should have back-up. Give me a moment to grab my blades and I’ll come with you.”
She opened her mouth to turn him down and assure him that she would be just fine, when Lucanis cut her off.
“Don’t argue with me Rook, you know damn well that if anyone on this team heard you were planning to go alone, they’d insist at least one other person go with you. Harding and Neve would insist on two people accompanying you. I’m coming along, or I’m telling the others that you’re planning on going alone to Minrathous. Your choice.”
Rook’s green eyes narrowed at him for a moment before she sighed and threw herself down onto the small loveseat that Harding and Neve normally occupied for their meetings. This man is going to be the death of me, she thought to herself. She wasn’t nearly as upset about that as she wanted to be.
“Fine, you win. Hurry up though, Morrigan made it sound like it could be somewhat urgent. You know, world ending type stuff.” 
She said this last part lightly in an attempt to mask her growing anxiety about it. Rook was definitely concerned. Morrigan wasn’t one to exaggerate when it was important, and she had never requested Rook’s audience in such a pressing manner before. She knows something we don’t, and I don’t think I’m going to like it. A frown twisted her mouth again, and she was unable to school her expression back to a neutral one before Lucanis caught it. His brow furrowed as a twin frown appeared on his own face. He gave her that concerned look he got on his face when she seemed unhappy or worried. Instead of commenting further though, Lucanis simply gave her a nod in response and turned quickly on his heel to fetch his gear.
Rook watched his figure retreat and exit the main room before letting herself crumple a bit. Her shoulders sagged and she let out a frustrated sigh. She was too weak to refuse him anything, especially when she wanted him at her side pretty much constantly. Those warm brown eyes made her brain slow as all of her rational thoughts flew out the window. She wanted nothing more than for him to hold her to his chest so she could just sit and listen to the strong, steady beat of his heart. But she couldn’t allow herself those luxuries, nor could she afford to be distracted by her girlish affections for such a vital member of her team. Control Nyra. That’s always been your weak point. Control your emotions, don’t let them control you. Blindly following your heart is what has gotten you into your biggest messes. What happened at Weisshaupt can never be allowed to happen again. Your lack of focus and reactionary nature is what caused the Grey Wardens to go into battle without their First Warden at the helm.
Rook could still feel the phantom pain in her hand from the force that she had struck  First Warden Jowin down with that day. He had been a massive prick, but she had made a decision that had huge consequences for all of the Grey Wardens. And she had done so out of wild rage and frustration, not conscious thought. That wasn’t the kind of thing good leaders did. Varric never would have handled it that way. Her mentor would have talked the First Warden down and gotten him to cooperate willingly. He definitely wouldn’t have struck down his superior so hard his knuckles nearly broke.
“You chose wrong, Varric.” Rook whispered to herself quietly in the silence of the Lighthouse rotunda. “I’m not cut out to lead this team. I’m not fit to be the one holding the fate of Thedas.”
Rook heard someone clear their throat in front of her, and her eyes snapped up to meet Lucanis’s. Eyes wide, she opened and closed her mouth for a moment. How long has he been there?? The thought made her heart rate pick up. Had he heard her voice her doubts? That was not a good look for the supposed leader of the Veilguard. Luckily for her, Lucanis said nothing about her whispered comments to herself, and instead gestured towards the stairs behind her.
“Ready to go, Rook?” he asked, watching her closely but not with any hint of judgement. He was wearing his fighting leathers now, and had at least 4 blades strapped to his person. Rook knew that he absolutely had more hidden from view.
“Yeah, let’s get moving. If the world really is ending sooner than expected, we don’t have time to waste.”
With that, Rook got to her feet and held her chin up high as she purposefully strode down the stairs to the Eluvian room. Lucanis moved silently behind her, the only indication of his presence and proximity was the small hairs on the back of her neck prickling. Now focused and with the dutiful mind of a soldier once again, Rook led the way through the large mirror. Out of the frying pan, and into the fire, she and her silent companion ventured forth.
 *   *   *   *
The Crossroads were as calm and quiet as always, the only sound to be heard was a faint whisper on the wind coming from The Tree a few yards in front of them. Rook wasn’t actually sure what The Tree actually was or if it had a proper name. She had taken to calling it “The Tree” simply because it had one golden “trunk” that opened into golden branch looking pieces that formed a hollow sphere. Inside the branches was what appeared to be pure, swirling energy of The Fade. At the base, there stood three ancient, fossilized elvhen people with distressed expressions. Rook had never heard The Tree whispering before, that part was new to her. Cautiously, she took slow measured steps towards it until she could finally make out words. 
“You will have new subjects, in recompense. Whatever you wish.”
“Rook’s favorite Spite demon and its host. Wouldn’t it be so fitting if I gave him real wings to match his true demonic nature?He could be a masterpiece…”
“Inspired sister, consider it done.”
Rook ground her teeth so hard she thought they might shatter in her mouth. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, she thought, Those bastards. Rage coursed through her veins, hot as molten lava. They planned to hurt Lucanis, because of her. All because she had been far too obvious in her fondness for the man. Another person with a target because of her.
“I’d like to see her try.”
Rook heard his voice behind her, and then a more twisted, growling version spoke up.
“We will make her regret. She will die by Our hand. Soon”
The last word of Spite’s declaration was a violent hiss. When Rook turned to look at Lucanis behind her, his eyes had already returned to their warm, brown color. His expression however, was equally as murderous as she imagined it had been when Spite had spoken through him. 
“If she touches you, death will be the least of her concerns.” Rook spit the words from behind her still-gritted teeth. She wasn’t sure what her face looked like at that moment, but whatever emotion her expression held seemed to shock Lucanis a bit. Pink tinged the tops of his cheekbones and he cut his gaze to the side before chuckling lightly. 
“The gods are wrong to underestimate you Rook. With a fire like that in your eyes, you could bring dragons to heel.” Lucanis met her eyes again after these words, and now she was the one uncertain of what she saw in his piercing gaze.
She smiled ruefully in response. “I’m pretty sure Taash would disagree, but thank you Lucanis.”
The two of them then began the trip to the mirror that was connected to the one in the Shadow Dragon’s, now destroyed, base of operations. Neither of them spoke, but the silence was comfortable rather than awkward. Lucanis’s presence had a calming effect on her when she was out on missions, a fact she had momentarily forgotten in her lovesick panic earlier. It was good that he came with her, she felt more centered now than she had all day. The Caretaker’s boat finally pulled up to the dock they needed and Rook clambered out first with Lucanis close behind. They made their way across the small island to the Dock Town Eluvian. Stepping inside, Rook tried her best to prepare mentally for whatever Morrigan was going to tell her. Upon reaching the correct clearing, she and Lucanis stepped through the giant, rippling mirror. 
 One thing most people didn’t realize was that travelling via Eluvian took some serious getting used to. It still made Rook’s stomach flip every time she exited on the other side. Both sets of boots crunched as they came in contact with the rubble and debris covered floor on the other side of the portal. Lucanis seemed to read her mind, because before she could spiral into her pit of blame and self-hatred at the sight, he spoke firmly to her back.
“It isn’t your fault Rook. It was an impossible choice, and not many people have the nerve to even have made it at all. You aren’t to blame for every tragedy the gods have caused, and beating yourself up doesn’t bring the dead back to life.”
Curse him for being kind AND correct. Rook wanted to scowl at him, but she knew he was right. It didn’t help anyone to continue to blame herself every time something went wrong or someone got hurt. Knowing that he spoke the truth didn’t make it any easier to swallow though. She wasn’t sure the wounds those decisions left her with would ever completely fade. Scars were permanent reminders of the past. They were undeniable evidence of both victories, and losses. Instead of responding, Rook just nodded her head and continued forward into the ruined city. She had somewhere to be.
Rook made an effort to keep her eyes averted from the weeks-old bodies that had been left hanging on the Venatori’s makeshift execution stands. It wasn’t easy, they littered every street corner and filled the squares. Even if she could avoid seeing them, their presence was undeniable and unavoidable. The bodies of innocent citizens filled the air with the sickeningly sweet, rotting, scent of decomposition. Bile filled her mouth as Rook swatted flies from her face. The flies in Dock Town were another indicator of the atrocities the city had undergone. The insects swarmed the corpses, giving the impression of black clouds hanging low in the streets. Their irritating buzzing became a drone in the background of every thought and spoken word. Rook truly hated every second she spent on these ruined streets, and that made her feel even worse. She had the audacity to hate the aftermath of the devastation that had befallen Minrathous because she had defended Treviso instead. Grimacing from the sting of those thoughts paired with the foul sights and smells, Rook forced her legs to continue moving as she numbly made her way to The Cobbled Swan. 
Lucanis could clearly see that Rook was deeply upset and disturbed, and he hated that she had to be here. Though, the fact that she blamed herself was something he hated even more. She carries too much and relies on others too little. Then again, he thought darkly, I am guilty of the same things and I hate it when she points it out. With that thought in mind, he said nothing about her mood shift and simply followed her towards their destination. He knew the weight of guilt, and was familiar with the way it seemed to curl around one’s very soul. It wasn’t an easy thing to let go of. 
After about a 10 minute walk, Rook and Lucanis reached the tavern. Rook let out a sigh of relief at the excuse to get off the streets and hurried up the stairs to get inside. She could see Morrigan waiting for her at a table off to the side, and turned to Lucanis. 
“Could you wait here while I speak to her? She asked for me and I’m not sure what she wants to say is meant for an audience.” Rook felt bad for making him stand across the room while she met with Morrigan, but she had the feeling that this was going to be a conversation meant to be had with her alone.
Lucanis bobbed his head in the affirmative and said, “It’s not a problem Rook. I’ll wait near the door. Spite wants to people-watch anyway.” He rolled his eyes with the last part of his statement and Rook couldn’t help but laugh a little. Spite’s curiosity and non-understanding of human behavior was one of her favorite things to witness these days. Well, outside of Lucanis cooking with sleeves rolled up and a serene look on his face. That was her favorite thing.
“Thanks Lucanis.” Rook spoke in a relieved tone before turning and walking towards Morrigan’s still form at the last table. Just as she was coming up behind the witch, Morrigan began speaking.
“Thank you for coming quickly, Rook. It is best that the things I am about to say are spoken before the last part of your battle begins.”
Rook swallowed down her nerves and took the seat opposite of Morrigan. Rook’s vibrant eyes were suddenly alight with a fire she felt deep in her soul. Time to get serious. “Alright Morrigan, what do you know, and how much time do we actually have left?”
Part 3 Coming Soon!
(It may not be tomorrow, but soon!)
Part 1 here!
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rosenotactuallyquartz · 11 hours ago
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when you made a mistake of saying Rose isn’t straight on tiktok and now you have 250 people proving you she didn’t love Pearl:……..
you want to know something very ironic?
susan egan, the voice of rose quartz, brings up pearl + rose’s relationship every. chance. she can get. & she describes them as having a relationship! she brought them up in the recent livestream, she sang the rose with pearl’s va on youtube. so many people who work for steven universe have stated that the love between pearl and rose is mutual. voice actors and storyboard artists have portrayed the characters as being in a relationship. rebecca sugar even confirmed that they’re not unrequited. the people who made pearlrose, essentially, either ship them or at the very least see their dynamic as being one that involves mutual feelings that go beyond platonic.
“i don’t know if i would call it unrequited!” — rebecca sugar interrupting an interviewer who describes pearl + rose as unrequited
“if it’s not, then i’ve misunderstood the whole thing!” — storyboarder raven molisee, also responsible for rose’s scabbard, when asked if the relationship between pearl + rose is romantic.
“i LOVE these two so i was absolutely ecstatic to draw this scene. i remember being really pressed to pack all of their passion and pearl’s smugness into one moment that lasts the length of a guitar solo… and their fusion that’s just an embodiment of that into one giant, shamelessly beautiful dancer!” — katie mitroff about fusion in we need to talk
rose quartz is my comfort character & even that is an understatement. she’s so much like me and she’s so meaningful, and i wish that more of the fandom could see this.
the way that her character is perceived really reflects some of the issues that we see in real life as well.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
she’s amazing for understanding mental illness & trauma and that responses to pain are not always pretty. things are complicated & so are people. some people in the steven universe fandom want to oversimplify things by often making her a heartless villain. on the other hand, i feel like some rose fans act like she’s done nothing wrong or they like to downplay her issues and mental health struggles. not necessarily here, but elsewhere. some people hate the idea that rose’s decision to give up her physical form was self destructive, but it absolutely was. she’s not a villain but she is a cautionary tale. she has a big heart but she’s absolutely flawed. she never wanted to hurt anyone, but she did.
she’s amazing for body positivity in ways that go beyond simple things like appearance, but people are… so weird about it sometimes. i still remember being twelve years old & reading comments about how rose was “pretending to be fat” the whole time after the pink diamond reveal. that was… really upsetting to read! six years later, i’m trying to help folks understand that this is not the case. there’s so much more depth and detail and comfort, really, than those silly reddit jokes and fandom hostility.
… and she’s amazing for sapphic representation. she’s canonically m-spec but the fandom can be so, so weird about that. as a bisexual girl myself, it bothers me so much that we need to convince so many people that she loved pearl while pretty much everyone validates her relationship with a man. not only validates… they see it as perfect and better and i don’t usually see people talk about the many flaws of that relationship. yes, pearl + rose’s relationship was flawed too. rose has a pattern of unstable relationships! but people can be codependent and genuinely in love at the same time. they can be in bad situations but they can still be… genuinely in love. & pearl and rose’s relationship is not less valid because people perceive their relationship as… more flawed than the other relationship (mainly because lots of people don’t think about the other relationship’s issues)
the biggest misconception of pearl and rose’s relationship is that their love wasn’t real
the biggest misconception of rose and greg’s relationship is that they got married
that’s very interesting to me.
if rose isn’t seen as a straight up villain, i find that lots of the fandom puts so much importance on two things: having a relationship with a man, and being a mother. & as a girl who relates to her, i think there’s so much more to her character and i’ll stop there because i have an entire thing i wrote about rose & the fandom here! /np/nf
i’m sorry about the fandom, anon. i’d go on tiktok and defend you but i don’t have a tiktok account because of my adhd (racing thoughts + a bunch of videos about different things at once = not my favourite app). you’re absolutely right and i wish more people understood that.
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skibasyndrome · 2 months ago
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#not to be a broken lil man on main#but I was on the phone with my dad for 30 minutes just now (that's a lot for a phone call with him) and like.... damn. yeah. i do have one#parent who's not horrible huh#we talked a lot about my plans for the future...... which I only now told him bcs scary and bcs........ I never ever during my 25 years of#being alive got the impression from my parents that something like this would be an acceptable career choice or something they'd support#and I mean. my [redacted] of a mother is the best example for how. not alright it is with her that I'm doing something that's not very...#traditional for this family#but anyways. my dad was absolutely fucking lovely#to the point that I get getting teary eyed and felt my throat closing up cause. huh. i guess in his own way he does love me and believe in#he asked me to send him a link or a pdf of my first conference report because he wants to keep it somewhere 😭��😭😭😭😭#I'm....... ouch. ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch#you know the ghosting I am really good at with tumblr chats (sorry guys. ilu. I just suck at communication)???? i'm also extremely good at#that with whatsapp chats and just. not calling my irl loved ones#so idk. hearing him say he understands and just wanted to make sure I wasn't upset with him and like. wanted to know if I was doing okay.#damn. okay. damn#idk#this was such a good talk and he was so suppertive and non-judgemental and I actually told him about my birthday and how my mother's call#upset me and he was like. yeah. same. and like... he's basically gone no contact with her as well as it turns out#idk. I really should give him more credit and like... I feel like there's so much shifting and change and development happening while I'm n#not there and sometimes it's hard to remember that he actually /could/ understand some things. just cause I've always been so used to not#sharing anything about myself because it wasn't safe when I was younger and... idk........ lots of emotions going on rn#so glad we talked though. so glad#simon.out.#if you read all this.... idk man.... sorry for oversharing but thanks for caring ig <3
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triglycercule · 3 months ago
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murder time trio should get to all experiment with dead bodies. why? because they can and it would be cool (okay but seriously i'll provide an explanation). all these freaks are scientists. i think it would be cool and funky if they all got to experiment! except morbidly and bloodily because none of them are right in the head now
killer like has his whole thing with wanting SOULs for some unspecified reason??? i'm just gonna steal the common interpretation that it's so he can find a way to fix his own soul through coding. but like,,,, what does he do with the desd bodies??? all the fellas he stole those souls from??? well this is where dust and horror come in
it's One Panel and i'm ABSOLUTELY reaching here but there's a (single) panel in horrortale where horror's pulling apart some sort of human limb like an arm with a device. why? what for? i dont fucking know at all man like papyrus said why is he always doing something weird in his room. anyways i'm just gonna guess its probably for rationing in horrortale (but it could also be that horror just felt like ripping apart an arm. for scientific purposes. or because he did this after ripping off aliza's arm so maybe he's doing some sort of recollection reflection or something i dunno im not a professional on this man). killer could totally send all the already dead HUMAN bodies horror's way for horrortale's food situation. maybe horror likes to dissect the humans yk maybe he's not just the type of bash (a head open) and dash. monsters dust so you cant see their guts but humans dont so horror gets prime time first hand experience on the human body! and then after he's done poking around in the brain he can give the meat and organs to papyrus for him to do his specific spaghetti confectionery
but but but what about the monsters that killer takes the souls from! surely he doesn't just take from only humans (dude idk if he actually does take from only human or monster. probably not right? he needs to study BOTH types of code so he can be most informed) so he must also take monster souls. and fortunately for dust (i do NOT think he'd quite like handling gore) monsters don't leave behind bodies or blood or allat they leave behind dust. hah. dust experiment with dust. i think its already a headcanon out there that dust likes to study dust. i cant exactly recall WHY exactly but maybe it's for sentimental reasons or just something to do to pass time between resets. so killer can just pass on whatever dust he gets to him and he can put it under his little microscope and be a little nerd what a GEEK. give this guy glasses and remove all his teeth but one i guarantee you he'll look like 🤓
and once again i hear you cry out but but triglycercule! why would killer even give the dead bodies and stuff to horror and dust in the first place??? erm number one because i said so silly. jk. and number two (if we're going in a nightmare's gang context here) it could be as a way for killer to gain horror and dust's trust. a way for them not to tattle on him for stealing souls for some unknown reason. maybe there's somehow important coding information left behind in the bodies/dust (because that's literally what utmv is made of) and killer wants dust and horror to do that work for him for some reason. maybe just a way for him to get rid of evidence maybe if theyre buddy pals and close enough just as a gift. i dunno man there's a bunch of reasons as to why he could possibly do this. i just really liked the thought of the trio all wearing fancy lab coats and goggles and i was like damn how can i make this a real possibility
#you can really sense the i dont know what the fuck i'm talking about energy in this one#all i had was a SINGLE!!! just ONE vision and there was straws for me to grasp so i fucking CLASPED those straws man. i'm totally reaching#listen when you gotta make do you gotta make do. the idea's cool and funky though i really like the vision#is the utmv code based or is it creativity based. which one#does the utmv look like a bunch of files or does it look like the doodlesphere. is it a concept or code???#i think that it's up to personal interpretation. it could also be both#i love the different possibilities that could be made based on the different code vs concept utmvs#with code you have possibilities like changing the files and breaking the game and stuff like that (error and killer etc)#BUT ALSO with creativity and concepts you can come up with characters just by saying oh i drew them or something like that (ink)#it just depends on the vibe you're going for i guess. darker stories sometimes have more associations with code#i like to think they both coexist but also are different#there are sections of the utmv that are purely coded like the antivoid and then section purely creativity based like the doodlesphere#and then there are worlds that have both like the code makes up the concept. or the concept makes up the code. either one#goddamn it everything just leads back to error and ink's digital vs traditional motifs AGAIN. i'm back at the fucking building AGAIN!!!!!#those two and their sick ass motifs can every elude me i feel like concepts in the utmv always have something to do with them#heh.... just shows how cool error and ink both are...... theres a reason theyre creativity and destruction (coolness factor)#hey hold on! this doesn't have anything to do with the murder time trio! triglycercule GET BACK IN YOUR NICHE!!!!!!!!!#looking back at my old posts to my new ones and i can see what lingo and typing styles i've faded out over time is so fun#or maybe i'm just the exact same and i havent change styles at all and i'm hallucinating and need to be put down#first day school is upsetting (as usual) so i need to think and post about the mtt to feel better#my favorite coping mechanism is thinking about murderous little creepypasta versions of a fictional guy from undertale#killer sans#dust sans#horror sans#murder time trio#bad sanses#bad sans gang#utmv#god i have NOT used tricule hc in a while........ i really should more#tricule hc
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wavesoutbeingtossed · 7 months ago
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some days the "fire off missiles because you hate yourself but do you know you're demolishing me" and "let all your damage damage me" and "I gave you all my best mes, my endless empathy" and "in the shade of how he was living" and "how much sad did you think I had in me?" just really fucking hit 😵‍💫🥴
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t8oo · 6 months ago
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there is some symbolism iv never considered in that one episod of pt5 where zenigata rescues fujiko before she kills lupin
#there are many timelines and variations in lupin as a serie so that every ship could work#in my own prefered timeline lupin finally gets the hint that fujiko plays him like a fiddle#to me she does like him but he is an instrument to her#she is cold hearted and calculating and always thinking about relationships in terms of profit#i got some ideas abt her background that justify this. essentially she kills the detective that is after her and with that kills#the soft part of her that she couldnt control before#eventually and despite his affection lupin gives up the objectifications and the desires he projects onto fujiko#whom uses his delusions like a master tbh#thus allowing himself to consider zenigata. he plays with zenigata the way fujiko plays with him#hes just not as calculating. he feels pity and remorse where fujiko doesnt#he finds the thrills and the doubts and the lack of trust and the risk of betrayal in zenigata. the things that he loves the most#he isnt about stability. he thrives in the unknown. he loves that zenigata could backstab him and does so sometimes#and in that lack of stabilty some form of stability builds up. there is familiarity#and most importantly there are rare times when they can put the game aside and just chill#just enough to gather the energy to go back to trying to kill each other#plus zenigata pampers him during those breaks and he loves that#he acts with carelessness but he does care. in that regard he looses to fujiko#at least thats how she sees it. he doesnt see caring as a flaw#and zenigata is so sweet. he really is. and lupin loves to stirr up the crazy in him#fucking loonies the both of them#so in essence zenigata doesnt really 'save' him from fujiko but he becomes lupins new favourite toy to throw around#fujiko is only upset that because of that ugly looser of a detective her grip on lupin is loosening#she does find ways to use that newly developed affection luzeni has to her advantage thou#lupin is still her instrument she just drags zenigata along now#fujiko is such a good and interesting character and deserves so much better honestly#despite my love for TWCFM i wish there was another serie centralized around her where her ruthlessness is examined#and her cunning is studied. and the proper law enforcement she should face the same way lupin does#shes like a million times smarter and more ressourceful than him. steals much more. embezzles. manipulate#lupin is just a small time pickpocket next to her. she isnt about stealing a painting shes about emptying the pockets of the richest men in#the world. her goals are much more ambitious
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hearts401 · 19 days ago
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We need to start treating bad writing like bad art and im not kidding
#now theres a lot more nuance to this#because “bad writing” is SUPER general#so i have to add a disclaimer#i dont mean propoganda. i dont mean biased and biggoted#i mean writing decisions u dont like!#ppl are very quick to just sit there and shit on writers#its okay to not like an ending. its okay to not like how a character was treated#and its okay to be mad about it if u like them very dearly#but at the same time sometimes we're a little too mean.#and sometimes they deserve it#but sometimes it's a little mean#this is. in truth. because of the lumine ending#on webtoon#its pissing me off how ppl are getting super upset and being rude to kabu#even tho so many ppl are explaining its because she grew out of the story. she didnt have passion for it anymore#she gave us an ending! you dont have to like it but stop acting like just because she COULD write more that she HAS to write more#art is tiring. sometimes you lose passion for it. sometimes you dont do it perfectly#sometimes your idea of good isnt the same as someone else's#i dont like romance for example. several tropes will turn me off it#but some ppl do#sometimes you make a pretty shitty plot or make plot holes#and yeah those arent super great to read!!! but a story is an art. its all different#its not all good and its not all bad#its made from a persons head therefore it'll reflect a person in a way#i just think its important to remember that writers are not machines#artists and writers aren't actually as different as everyone treats them#we're all making art. we're all making mistakes. i just think we should be a little nicer about it#its okay to criticize. but can we be nice about it#also i dont like the “professional author” argument#picasso was a famous artist his paintings are in meuseums and there's still people who don't like his art. i dont think its fair to go
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wizardnuke · 22 days ago
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um personally i think that if your girlfriend is insecure over you being friends with another girl you should run far away really fast. but i may be misreading the situation. i don't think i am though.
#i may be misreading. all i know is she got pissed at my friend while we were hanging out but friend has mentioned that she's 'got#trauma over being cheated on' which is understandable but we have been friends for a year and also i go out of my way to try and make this#girl understand i want to be her friend and i'm not trying for anything. i have a fucking bf. she has met my bf. she has seen how i am#around my bf vs around her gf. we r legit just friends. what the fuck man. please be normal and don't stress ur gf out like this. it's mean#:( idk all i know for sure is she said something that upset her while i was out of earshot but im using context clues and im not stupid.#genuinely i think she is misreading some stuff. yes me and her gf/my friend get along really really well but it's like.. two kids who met i#a playplace kind of way. we do shenanigans and talk about stuff. i do not want to fw her. i am not willing to fw such a heavy smoker.#i love her dearly but sometimes i think she is- love and light- incredibly pretentious in a way that irritates me a little. fine for a#friend. intolerable in a partner. many reasons why i would never. also I HAVE A BOYFRIEND. THAT I AM SO SERIOUS ABOUT.#insulting to me. honestly. but i could be misreading but i don't think i am.#and insulting as fuck to her gf who is head over heels possibly blindly in love with her my god.#idk i just don't trust that she isn't still insecure about me. and i don't like that she said something upsetting while we were having fun.#i don't like it.#girl i dont want your gf for so many reasons. also i am in a relationship what the fuck girl. what the fuck do you think of me. and also#have some fucking trust in your own gf. insane behavior. insane. she would never ever cheat on her she is possibly one of the most honest#and like. morally sound people i have ever met. she would never. it's so fucked up to think that of her.
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autisticlee · 5 months ago
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no one knows just how hard I work at things. how I have to work 1000000x more than the average person to compensate for being autistic and adhd and probably other things i'm working out with therapist, and having a sort of physical disability i've not received any help or treatment for. everyone assumes I don't try or give up too soon. they think I just started, need more practice. they think I expect everything handed to me immediately with no work or effort and don't acknowledge the multiple years i've put into things. they think I have no right to be upset about still failing to get where I want even after working my entire life to get there, while watching people around me surpass even my meager goals within a fraction of the time and work i've out into the same thing. constantly getting surpassed by everyone around me who seem to barely do any work to get there compared to me. it's all handed to them and falls into their lap so easily. all because they don't have the extra obstacles to overcome and work around that I do. while they go from point A to Z immediately with no major stops in between, I have to go through every single letter and then some, often getting sent back to the start. but it's always *my* fault, according to everyone. it's not the fault of those around me who ignore me, don't support me, don't help me, don't believe in me, etc. it's my fault they don't do those things. because doing the work of 10 people in one isn't enough, just because it's me. and not reaching Z as fast as everyone else means I don't deserve any of the support or help or anything else and means i'm not trying hard enough. it doesn't matter that I *need* to work harder than 100 "normal" people combined to get even half the result! Just because I can't reach what they do means i'm not trying hard enough! ugh.
#it's like they WANT me to give up!#they sure act like i'm not trying to give up/not trying if I mention how hard it is/how i'm upset I cant reach my goals after years of work#if someone tells me to just do the thing/stop giving up/try harder/practice more/it takes time/dont expect it to be handed to you/etc#ONE MORE TIME. im going to fucking lose it. in fact im losing it right now hence the rant im writing!!!!!!!#can someone for once tell me its ok to feel frustrated and they know how hard i work and try and deserve better or something idk#ugh i hate this life. sometimes i hate being neurodivergent because it stops me from doing all the things i want#and no one is willing to help because they blame me and say im not trying hard enough when EXISTING takes more work than they realize!#for fuck sake im losing my mind here. not having any support and not being able to support yourself because none of your needs get met#and you have to try to do life with higher support needs and are denied any support. its so fucking hard. idk what to do#lee rants#autistic#autism#actually autistic#adhd#neurodivergent#audhd#and probably other things that could be tagged but im exhasuted. writing this was hard and took so much energy to make words happen#words hard. how get across what want to say?????? dont know#but why is it always dismissive comments and no one offering any actual help or support that would benefit me in any way#but everyone else gets so many opportunities and support? i guess if you need extra support you arent worth anything#IM ALLOWED TO BE UPSET AND FEEL BAD. PEOPLE NEED TO STOP DISMISSING MY FEELINGS AND TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL BAD ABOUT FEELING BAD.#WHAT DO YOU WANT AND EXPECT FROM ME FOR FUCK SAKE. HOW DOES ONE TRY HARDER THAN THEIR BEST!!!#HOW DOES ONE DO SOMETHING THEY PHYSICALLY CANT IF THEY ARENT ALLOWED THE HELP AND SUPPORT REQUIRED?!#HOW DO YOU EXPECT A BIRD TO FLY IF IT WAS BORN WITHOUT WINGS#ok im done
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dandyshucks · 9 months ago
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blinks tiredly. i decide "hm maybe i should try to expand my circle and step outside of it a little, lets go look at the main community tags" and im just greeted with a bunch of edgelords who think saying "fiction doesn't affect reality, don't like don't read" is peak activism and "fighting censorship". head in my hands. this is partially why i do not ever go into the community tags, my nervous system cannot handle blocking fifty weirdos every single day just so i can have a normal experience in the community tags hfdsjkl
#I HAVE SO MANY PEOPLE BLOCKED ALREADY. i am TRYING to curate my experience 😭😭😭#and i have so many tags blacklisted fjdsjkl like. so many. every single variation of tag to do with those chuckleheads#which helps avoid them a lot of the time tbh bc it'll flag posts that ppl rb if the original post was tagged w any of those#so i can avoid rbing posts that have chuckleheads as the op most of the time#i also usually double check OP's blog before i rb stuff now bc man this place is rife with these weirdos#ANYWAYS. yes i want to try to engage w the community but i do not think i can handle it if theres gonna be so many edgelords jkdslfl#the only way i follow new ppl now is when yall do promo hour and i sometimes see a new face pop up fdsjkl#every now and then i have energy to try to engage with new ppl but its so difficult when so many ppl are such insufferable edgelords !!!!#''im the nasty pr-sh-pper your parents warned you about 😎'' cool man you sound like the most insufferably obnoxious person ever. :/#''if you like CENSORSHIP-'' i am hitting block immediately bc u have a fundamental misunderstanding of what censorship actually is 👍#I'M TIREDDDD WHY ARE PEOPLE SO DUMB ABOUT THIS STUFF. ''fiction doesn't affect reality'' I GUESS PROPAGANDA DOESNT EXIST THEN ????#what a strange world they live in honestly. they dont understand how stories have served humans since the dawn of time. sighing loudly.#vent //#SORRY FOR THIS ONE IM JUST. ARGH. ppl talk abt encouraging community but i think maybe im not cut out for community#i want desperately to partake but i cannot handle it if it means dealing w all these bozos#it frustrates me to no end fdhsjkl and it upsets me so much and i wish i could deal w it better but. my nervous system is broken fdsjkl#i will try to expand my circle every now and then but i cannot do it often bc of this 😭 im not going to give up entirely though fdsjkl#(also this is partially why i dont tag my posts w community tags anymore bc i am just. so scared of these freaks getting their hands on it)#(the most i'll do is s.afeship or variations every now n then bc supposedly they're not in those tags fdsjkl)#delete later#dandyshucks
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