#i have nothing else to add to this ToT this is so good.
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look ure doing some wicked things to my brain that might change its chemistry for good (and i cant be the only one suffering)
âââ cw. smut, sub!johan, dom!reader, power dynamics
ok now that we're onto this Pathetic Johan Agenda i cant help but think how it'd be if you were to corner him the way corners you, albeit in a different manner. well he doubts his sweet little darling could actually be of the same caliber, but youre specifically thereâlike you have let him devour you and allâto prove him wrong. you're not just his little darling, you quite in fact a spiteful one. and little by little you'll try to conquer and devour him too!
you'd go along his advances and hell be damned that you noticed how johan actually got so lost in the pleasure of kissing you. indeed it felt gross but the satisfaction to have him finally wrapped around your fingers was ecstatic, to say the least. if johan the devourer (or so he believes) lets you have your way only during intimate moments then intimacy it is.
like what a wonder that he fell for your trap when he agreed to let you explore a little bit during sex, because this immensely feared monster actually became a babbling mess when you started pegging him, inch by inch with the strawberry lube you bought for him. he could not believe the first time he'd believe he's actually an existent human being exists is when he felt the toy hit a spot inside him.
all that and you look at him with those expectant, submissive looking eyesâseeking for approval, carefully rutting under the guise of making him feel like he still has the upper hand (pathetic). you are well aware that a few moments from now he'll be moving his hips on his own, begging and crying things so unlikely of his character. he is drowned. what a mistake of letting you pave your way thinking it's all but a harmless exchange.
in light of me not being able to write top/dom readers... please eat up with miss riri serving us <333 Everyone say thank you <33
#i have nothing else to add to this ToT this is so good.#I'M NOT INTO PEGGIN BUT JUST THIS ONCE.... JSUT THIS ONCE........ONLY BECAUSE MISS RIE IS TALENTED LIKE THAT#c.johan liebert#johan liebert x reader#johan x reader
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Oki Doki, I know that this may sound a bit charged, and you can tots ignore this if you want to, but I wanted to just throw this in there
The overblot boys with an anarchist reader/Yuu. They simply don't like nor understand the reason for a hierarchy and don't believe that one person should be in charge of a whole kingdom, be it a hereditary "god given right" or not. They got mad at their society that failed them back on their world, and are very hesitant to trust the boys due to their status, since they don't know if TWST's ruling class is different from the ones back at home.
That's all, take care, hydrate
Overblot Boys React to Anarchist Reader
Overblot Boys & Reader
Riddle
Why would you start this fight with him?
This boys entire spine and personality is built on the concept of rules and hierarchy, the concept of anarchy is madness to him. And not the good kind. He firmly believes that a governing body is simply a byproduct of forming a society. You can't have one without the other.
Debates. He will be there every time you start talking about your societal ideals and how you believe things should be. It's entertaining for others to watch because even with Riddle's character growth, he believes in there being a governing body that works for the betterment of the people. Period.
Though with your debates, he starts to learn more about anarchy and the actual ideals of it. He does find the idea of a direct democracy to be appealing, but he also runs a dorm full of people whose first choice is chaos. He needs to be the voice of absolute authority.
Leona
Why would you do this to yourself?
Leona goes against the grain himself, so he'd understand the appeal of anarchy. Plus if you talked about your world's messed up ruling class with him, he'd completely understand your stance. Leona, self-serving as he is does believe that the ruling class should look out for everyone under them. And if they aren't, change needs to happen.
That means nothing, he will still debate you on it. Leona is a good leader, wild as his dorm may be. But he doesn't believe a completely ungoverned society is something that could be achieved on a larger scale. Small communities can operate as anarcal societies easily. But the more people you add, the higher the number of variables grow. He finds people too easy to manipulate.
He agrees with the concept of anarchy, but he will debate you on whether the practice of it would actually be plausible for a real society. Savanaclaw can self-govern itself, but it's also prime for internal conflict all the time.
Azul
He's from the sea, thats the closest thing to a functioning anarchist system he knows. They still have a royal family that filters through their requests and works to keep the kingdom happy. But, whatever happens in the water, stays in the water. People kind of do as they please with the only threat being someone bigger and badder coming along.
But even with that system, they still have a ruling class of royalty and nobility. He can't really wrap his head around the concept of actual anarchy. Voluntary services are still a service; that's still a group of people commanding some type of respect for their actions.
There are no real laws in the sea, and people maim and murder each other pretty freely down there. Land society is much more...safe compared to what he and the twins grew up with.
He thinks it's kind of cute that you want anarchy. As if more than half the students in the school wouldn't instantly choose murder and deceit to get through life if they didn't have someone to answer to. Octavinelle is a dorm of cunning and shady people, trusting in the goodness of his fellow men isn't something he knows.
Jamil
He'd lowkey look at you like you're dumb. He'd never say you are, but he's looking.
Even bottom of the pyrimand he is, Jamil believes in there always being someone above someone else. He's not as power-hungry as he was before his overblot, but he very much still dreams of being 'above' others.
While Jamil deeply understands your stance, he thinks instead of throwing the whole system out, you should first try to fix the system you have first. If its truely beyond saving, then yes, start over. But true anarchy isn't something he finds possible.
He feels even if you get rid of the old system, you'd simply form a new one. It's human nature. Certain people are better than others, offer skills no one else can. That gives them a sense of power and they then gain authority on how they choose to share those talents. Government systems come in many forms for a reason. It's human nature to form heirarcy. Scarabia is a political battle field, people follow Kalim because his family is rich and influential with all they've done to help their community through trade.
Vil
What are you talking about???
Are you're gonna look this benevolent queen bee in his perfectly winged eyes and say that you don't believe hierarchy and governing bodies are needed for a peaceful society? It's 11am, what are you smoking?
Of course, someone has to be in charge. That's just how things get done. Tiebreakers are a thing for a reason. Yes, he understands that your world's system has failed you. It was a shitty system. But, the idea of simply having no one in charge isn't possible. People who govern are charismatic and persuasive. They lead with words and logic, something that people follow.
He believes, even in an archarchy, someone will rise up as a 'Voice of the People'. People can be easily influenced. It'd be easy for someone pretty or silver-tongued to rise above and place themselves as a ruler of smaller communities. It's basically what Pomefiore is, Vil proved himself to be the best at what everyone in the dorm strives for so he is their leader.
Idia
Sounds cool, what do you do what the crazy people?
Insensitive, but he's kind of serious. Like-minded people group together, that includes people with less-than-savory ideals than others. If everyone is on an equal playing field protection and decision-wise, with the only thing they have to fight back is numbers, that can get dangerous real quick.
It's basic MMO rules. Newer players latch together to protect themselves from older players who make a habit of picking off newbies as soon as possible to maintain a sort of control over areas.
He trusts the idea of the system, he just doesn't trust the people in it. People are too easily cruel to someone they deem weaker because he's guilty of it himself.
Malleus
He lowkey can't even really understand how it'd even work.
Briar Valley is a small-scale society land-wise, but Malleus rules over an entire species. The very idea of there...not being a hierarchy is laughable to him.
Hierarchy in the Fae is purely power-based since it's in their nature to do as they please anyway. The only way to get them to listen is to simply be stronger than them. As such, the strongest of whatever fae speaks for all of them. Their whims are normally the same anyway, doing whatever they please.
His family has ruled as an absolute monarchy for literally millenia. To not have a ruling class seems odd to him. Who makes the choices? Who sorts the concerns of the citizens? Who decides what and which issue is more important? Who will mediate conflicts between opposing parties?
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twst wonderland#riddle rosehearts#riddle x reader#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul x reader#jamil viper#jamil x reader#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#idia shroud#idia x reader#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#requests
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Can I have the Rise boys with a reader that yaps constantly and dosent do a lot of touching other than small acts of hand holding, poking, and just being physically close-? Like can and will talk about anything under the sun, like cats, space, their toaster they named Bermuta whilst being next to Donnie while heâs working, or holding Leoâs hand whilst Helen heâs reading a comic, poking Raphs arms or cheek when heâs doing something, and their head on Mikeyâs shoulder while he cooks/draws.
But on the rare occasion theyâre silent, like dead silent, not even a hello or good evening just nothing. And theyâll sit down on the ground next to said turtle and lean their head on the turtles legs slash thighs and wrap their arms around them, looking really zoned out or just not there because they had been yelled at or got into an argument with someone else or their parents for being so animated and talking so much.
Also I really love your writing!! Small reminder to rest up and take care of your needs, have some roses for the road :333đ
I'm gonna take this as a headcanon request, and tysm for the request(s) and reminder! You're greatly appreciated. Yapper hcs here we go!
°â˘.â˘Â°
Raph
He doesn't mind one bit, your constant commentary reminding him of when he and his brothers were turtle tots
He finds it really cute, and is sure to listen just enough to keep up with what you're saying
Eventually he starts to prefer listening to you yap about your day over his music when he's working out
When you start poking him it makes him laugh, opting to lift you instead of the weights, which gets you squealing
The fact it brings him so much joy makes it all the more heart wrenching when you end up sitting on the floor in his room, quiet with distant eyes
When you grab his leg, his eyebrows knit together, confused even as he finds it a little endearing
He'd press for an explanation on what had you so quiet, voice quiet and gentle, and your answer would make him sad
If it was your parents, he'd offer a sleepover, preferring you stay at the lair then at home when things were turbulent
Leo
You and Leo could go on and on and on if other things didn't get in the way, he was just as talkative
That also meant he was especially attentive laughing and nodding and giving input
Even when he was reading or trying a new trick on his skateboard, he'd still have something to add when there was a pause for him to
He also rather enjoyed the little bits of affection youd offer, sitting right next to him when he'd read or on movie nights
The first time you're silent his beak wrinkles, as the quiet is the most unwelcome thing in the world
He's much more aggressive in asking what's wrong, refusing to drop it until you told him what happened
Once you would, he'd go off immediately, saying the person who told you to shut your trap was a loser and boring and all sorts of other things
Then, after getting through his own rant, he'd raise an eyebrow considering you're still attached to his leg, mischievous mind working before he'd start walking with you hanging on, trying to make you laugh
Donnie
He likely struggles with it the most, but the fact you speak so much means he doesn't have to worry about small talk
Even so, he mentally catalogues every topic of conversation, able to keep up with anything and everything you spew
He feels a little bit of accomplishment everytime he can add input based on things you've mentioned before
As for your less typical signs of affection, they matched him perfectly; he greatly appreciated being able to focus on his projects while you're nearby
But then one day you're not saying anything after a surprising amount of time
When he swivels in his chair, you're on the floor, and immediately he's set into a panic, asking what happened
He'd be pretty similar to Leo, insisting you tell him, and then scoffing and bad mouthing the plebeians who dared to raise their voice at you
As for your clinging to his leg, it's a little odd, but he never comments on it, just standing in place until you're done, maybe ruffling your hair
Mikey
Mikey loves talking to you, listening to anything and everything that comes from your mind
It makes him laugh, why wouldn't he enjoy it, especially when you hold his hands or sit in the kitchen while he cooks
Even when he's feeling creative, you still choose to sit with your side against his, more intent on whatevers caught your attention that day then what he's working on
When you started poking him, though, he'd do it right back, which would end in a tickle fight that he'd never lose
When you're quiet, it's a different story, and he's sensitive to your feelings
You hug his leg, eyes unfocused, making him frown and meet you on the floor, sitting with his knee up so you can keep hugging him
He wouldn't push on what's wrong, instead asking if you wanted to talk about it, and if you did he'd listen and offer his sympathies
If you didn't want to talk about it, he'd sigh but nod, and rub a hand over your back, talking himself to fill the quiet when you had nothing to say
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt x reader#raphael x reader#leonardo x reader#donatello x reader#michelangelo x reader#spoopyblues
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Instead of living in your head
ross Macdonald + daughter!r
warnings: angst, lil bit of yelling, crying, r has dyslexia, uncle matty lolz, r is 11, tall ross with lil y/n oh my hearttttttt, barely proof read, idk what else
a/n: told ya iâd get this done tnt! Thank you tot he anon who requested this i ran right to the computer after getting the request.

âWhy must the parent-teacher conference be tonight? And why are you so stubborn about going to all of them? You already know Iâm doing fine in school.â You groaned from the back seat.
Ross kept his eyes on the road, not giving into your antics, as cute as they might be. âOh, how terrible. God forbid I care for my daughter and help her during her school years.â
You smiled. âYou really donât have to go, you see my grades, theyâre good.â You told him you just wanted to spend a quiet night with your father, which wasnât a lie technically, but there was a bigger part that you didnât want to tell your father.
You knew you were struggling. You knew this âissueâ was getting worse. For years, you were able to get by in school. Your grade wasnât the best compared to your other stellar grades, but you kept it up. Until now. It wasnât that you werenât trying. If anything you were trying your hardest. Itâs just as time went on and you got older, the harder it got. But you were determined to continue on as if nothing was wrong.
âIâll only be gone for a few hours. Plus you donât have to go with me, you get to stay with your uncle.â You smiled only a little bit. You figured that there could be a chance the topic wonât come up.
In complete honesty, Ross forgot this parent teacher conference was happening, which led him to texting Matty last minute.
ross | What are you doing tonight?
matty | getting drunk and crunk and making love to my wife
ross | Do you think you could add watching y/n for a few hours somewhere in between all that?
matty | oh for sure
matty | of course she calls upon her favorite uncle in her time of need
ross | George was unavailableâŚ
matty | ffs
ross | Be there at 5.
The front door opened with a whirl as soon as you stepped out of the car door. Matty stepped out with his arms opened wide. You ran to him. âUncle Matty!â
He scooped you up and lifted you in his arms. âHey, angel! Thereâs my favorite niece!â
You looked at him with a pointed look. âIâm your only niece.â
His smile never faltered, âWhich means youâre my favorite!â
Ross walked up by this time. âThanks for doing this last minute. I should only be a couple of hours.â
âNo worries. Say bye to your father.â Matty said, then gentured to you.
âBye Daddy.â You said hugging his legs.
He kissed your head. âBye, my love. Be good for your uncle.â
âAlways.â You said with a smirk. Making both men smile.
â-------
Ross truly thought he had nothing to worry about. You were a well rounded girl all things considered. And not a single teacher had a complaint in the past. Sure, he was completely biased, but you were a great student. Not every kid can be perfect, but he was convinced you were the closest any girl could get. But again - heâs biased.
Someone had called his name from a hallway that was filled to the brim with anxious parents. They led him into a classroom. He was met with a woman, y/nâs teacher he heard about, standing over a table organizing files and papers. She was younger than he expected, but seemed nicer than the other teachers youâve had, gentler.
âMr. Macdonald! Please, come have a seat.â
She introduced herself, told her about the class, what they learned, etc. It all seemed very normal yet, there was still something that didnât make sense.
âAs Iâm sure youâve noticed, the grades she brings home are phenomenal.â He nodded, a small smile gracing his face. âItâs no surprise to me or any other teachers here that you have a very bright child. Sheâs the first to raise her hand, the first to help others, she has every quality of a great leader.â
He kept nodding, obviously agreeing but too shy to verbally admit it. Too proud to admit you were smarter than he ever was at this age.
Suddenly she took a pause. She read over her notes. When she looked back up her eyes wandered, looking anywhere else but Ross. âI have noticed a few grades have been dropping in the reading area?â
His head tilted. âReally?â
âWell, her last few grades have Iâve noticed have been getting lower and lower. Now her overall grade, although lower than the rest, Iâm confident we can bring it back up to where it was.â She shifted, and Ross took notice. âWhen preparing for this meeting I discussed this pattern with our principal, and she thinks itâs possible that y/n has Dyslexia or another learning disability.â
Ross didnât expect it.
âWe have many resources right here in our school. If you want to get her officially tested we can help with that. Thatâs what weâre here for.â
He finally regained his thoughts, âTo be honest, I havenât even noticed. In her quiz grades? The ones she brings home?â
She let out a soft, sad sigh. âYes. At first we thought it was some form of test anxiety? But, itâs mainly happening in the reading subject.â
Ross felt a tightness in his chest, the weight of guilt settling in as the teacher's words lingered in the air. He replayed the moments when y/n had shrugged off his questions about school, offering vague reassurances that everything was fine. He had wanted to believe her, and in his busyness, heâd let himself. But now, hearing this, it became clearâshe hadnât been fine at all. She had been drowning in silence, hiding the truth about her grades, her struggles, and maybe even her feelings. He hadnât seen the signs. The late nights, the way sheâd avoid reading out loud, her tendency to brush off doing her homework with a fleeting excuse, but then catching her doing it in silence in the confines of her room. It all added up now, and the realization hit him hard.
He felt a deep pang of regret, mixed with angerâanger at himself for not seeing it sooner, anger at the school for not catching it earlier. Dyslexia. It was a word he wasnât familiar with in a personal way, but he knew enough to understand that you must have been feeling overwhelmed. He couldnât help but imagine the frustration she mustâve experienced in class, surrounded by kids who seemed to grasp what was on the page while she struggled to make sense of it. It pained him to think of y/n, his only child. someone so bright and full of potential, being weighed down by something out of her control.Â
His mind raced with questions. How long had she been struggling like this? Why hadnât she come to him? And how was he going to help her now? He realized this wasnât just about grades; this was about understanding her on a deeper level, about being the kind of father who didnât miss the subtle cries for help. He nodded to the teacher, forcing himself to stay composed, but inside, he felt a swirl of emotions. This was just one layer of what you had been dealing with on her own.Â
â-------
You ran out the door to your dadâs car, but not before giving Matty a big hug and telling him bye.
You greeted your dad with a kiss to the cheek, like you always did, as you got in the car. âMatty got me Mcdonalds.â You said, tone cheeky.
âNice. Whatâd you buy me?â He said, only for a second forgetting the news he just learned.
You gave him a look. âFunny.â He smiled and you continued. âHowâd it go?â
He shrugged, âWent alright.â
You mentally sighed, maybe they didnât talk about it after all?
When you got home you told your dad you were going to shower. He nodded and let you be. It was getting late for you after all. He thought to himself as he watched you walk up the stairs. How am I going to ask her? He hadnât a clue how he was going to address this.
â-------
He heard the water running from the bathroom that was connected to your room. Once he slowly and quietly opened the door, he made his way to your desk.
Compared to other kids your age, your room was pretty tidy for an 11 year old - another point that Ross made when bragging to others about how great you were. The bottom side drawer of your desk was filled with old test papers and worksheets that you brought home. You had always kept them in there, but not before proudly showing them off to your dad first.
It wasnât the most organized, but the marking in red at the top of certain pages led him to the ones he needed. The first couple of papers werenât awful, but definitely concerning knowing your usual grades. The more pages he picked up the lower the number at the top of the page. They were littered with correction marks and notes in red ink. His heart sank knowing the truth. The truth was you lied to him. He tried to stop himself from getting too angry but admittedly it was hard. You told him everything, and he was proud of that fact. He knew that as you got older there might be a day where you held some secrets to yourself, but never did he think it would happen now or at this age.
To entranced in the papers and the grades staring back at him, he didnât notice the water stop or you walking out of the bathroom, towel in hand drying your hair, dressed in your pj shorts and one of your dadâs old t-shirts that, although large on your small frame, always seemed to look just right. âWhat are you doing?â You said, your voice small, curious. That curiosity only grew when you noticed the pile of papers on the desk and the ones you never wanted your father to see lying in his hands. âWhy are you going through my stuff?â You said, stepping forward, only a hint of anger seeping through.
He looked at the papers in his hand, then back at you. âWhatâs this?â He asked.
You crossed your arms. âAnswer my question first.â
He just continued. âWhy havenât you shown me any of your English class grades?â
âSo thatâs not answering my question actually.â
God, she can be like her mother sometimes. ây/n Macdonald, answer me.â He said, sternly. A sight you canât recall the last time you saw.
You immediately got shy, shrinking in on yourself once you heard your fathers tone. â...I have-â
âNo, you have not.â He said. He took a few steps forward. âIâve never seen these papers or grades in my life. Why didnât you show me? You show me everything like this.â
Your stomach flips as he holds up the stack of wrinkled papers, his face twisted with a mix of confusion and hurt. The sight of them makes your heart race faster. You never meant for him to find those, but here they are, crumpled in his hands.
âI donât know,â you mumble, eyes darting down to the floor as your hands start picking at the edge of your shirt. âI forgot.â
âForgot?â Rossâs voice sharpens, and you hear the disbelief clear in his words. He kneels down so heâs closer to your height, his face stern but not unkind. âThese grades, y/nâŚwhy would you keep these from me?â His voice softens toward the end, almost like heâs afraid of the answer.
You stay silent, fighting the tears that sting behind your eyes. Youâre not sure how to explain it, how to make him understand why the sight of those red marks on the papers made your chest feel heavy, why handing them over felt like admitting you were broken in some way. âI didnât want you to be mad,â you whisper, feeling small under the weight of it all.
He lets out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. âIâm not mad. I justââ He stops himself, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter. âIâm not mad, Y/N. Iâm just⌠sad that you felt like you couldnât tell me. That you thought you had to hide this.â
You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing you could disappear, wishing you could take it all back. âI didnât want you to think I was dumb,â you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Rossâs face softens at your words, and he gets down on one knee on the floor in front of you, his eyes searching yours. âYouâre not dumb,â he says, shaking his head. âYouâre so smart, Y/N. Way smarter than I was at your age. You just⌠you need a little extra help with this, thatâs all. And thatâs okay.â
He grabbed the sides of your arms, shifting the tone of the conversation as he spoke.
âBaby, do you know what Dyslexia is?â
You slowly lifted your head to meet his eyes. Softly shaking your head and letting out a meak âNo.���
He swallowed and moved some of the pieces stuck to your face from crying away and behind your ear. âItâs a learning disorder that people have. All kinds of people, kids, adults. It could be anyone.â
He saw your eyes look up at him with curiosity. âIs it bad?â
âNo, no. No, Itâs not bad. Not at all.â He took your hands in his, âIt just means some people need more help than others. Sometimes they need to be taught in a different way.â You looked down again, âHoney, some of your teachers at school think you have Dyslexia. They think thatâs why youâre getting these grades.â You were trying so hard to keep the tears at bay. âDo things sometimes look different than what the other kids are saying they see? Or are you slow at reading? Are things like that getting harder?â He tried to search your eyes for something. A feeling or an answer, but all he was met with were tears.
His words make something crack inside you, and before you can stop it, the tears are spilling down your cheeks. Youâre not sure if itâs from the relief or the guilt or the sheer exhaustion of trying to hide everything for so long, but you canât hold it in anymore. Ross reaches out, pulling you into a hug, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into it, into the warmth and safety of his arms.
âIâm sorry,â you manage through your sobs, clutching his shirt.
âI know, kiddo,â he murmurs into your hair, holding you tighter. âWhy didnât you tell me this was happening?â
You continued to sob, âI didnât want you to get mad at my grades. I didnât understand what was happening. I just thought I was dumb and if I kept trying it would get better, but it didnât.â You said, pulling away slightly.
âY/n.â He said, semi-sternly. âYou should never be afraid to tell me something. I couldâve helped you-â
âHow?!â You said, anger seeping through, knowing that the truth was he wouldnât know how to help you.
He sighed, âI-...i donât know.â
âExactly.â
âWe wouldâve figured it out, we wouldâve gotten the help sooner.â He took your head in his hands, âIâm not angry about your grades, baby. Iâm angry you lied.â
You shrugged through your sniffles. âCan you blame me?â
He gave you a weak somber smile, âNo. I canât.â You fell into his arms again, cries continuing to wet his shirt but settling down with the comfort of your Dad. âBut you donât ever have to be scared to tell me. No matter what. Weâll figure this out together, okay?âÂ
You nod against his chest, the weight of the secret youâve been carrying finally starting to lift.Â
You were still angryânot at your father, of courseâbut at the situation, at how unfair it all felt. You'd spent so long believing you were just slower than everyone else, that something about you was fundamentally wrong, and now, suddenly, you had a name for it. However it didnât erase the years of frustration or the moments when you felt completely lost, watching your classmates breeze through what felt impossible to you. But at least it was somethingâa reason. You werenât broken, and knowing that eased a small part of the heaviness in your chest.Â
Still, the anger lingered, mixing with relief in a confusing knot of emotions. Maybe you could get the help you needed and not have to hide behind excuses or crumpled papers anymore. And maybe, for the first time in what felt like forever, you could let yourself believe that it wasnât your fault. You werenât alone in this, and though the road ahead looked uncertain, at least you werenât walking it by yourself.
You glanced up at your dad, who was still holding you close, and a small, tired smile tugged at your lips. Whatever came next, he was ready to help you through it all, and you were ready to face it together.
#okay okay were getting back to it#the 1975#x daughter!reader#love dad ross#ross macdonald x daughter!reader
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Tarnished Lore?
From my draconic girl Emma?
Yes she got it!
Though it's mostly a set of points in her story, I do need to write them down in a google doc ToT

I usually just throw my characters into the world, not really thinking in a deep backstory until later when I've defined their personality and relationships, they just fall into place and I add into that !
I'll try to make it as short as possible, since its not that much of a linear story I think? It happens paralel to "the chosen" tarnished's journey (the game's canon), so world events can progress without much issue!
Her name is Emmlyn! Emma for short
⢠Tarnished from the warrior/hero category, random mom and blood noble dad who mysteriously left so she basically never met him (Ansbach lol)
⢠Arrived at the coast in Limgrave, following the grace, led her to Agheel Lake where she met Yura and learnt about dragon communion
⢠Unable to beat Agheel, made her way east to Caelid, at Redmane Castle she trained (painfully) with the Leonine and Crucible Knight there, managing to defeat the smaller drakes around and crafting her (altered) drake knight armor
⢠Back in Limgrave convinced Yura to help her defeat Agheel and kept the heart, not doing communion (yet)

⢠Heard of a dragon at Stormveil, got to defeat Morgott with the help of Rogier. Didn't fight Godrick after she learned that the dragon was a corpse, proceeded to Liurnia following word of glintstone dragon Samarag.
⢠At Liurnia she met Bogart and Rya, she offered Emma a future visit to the Volcano manor, seeing her interest in dragon hunting the two wyrms around the place might interest her.
⢠Went to fight Samarag and failed, wounded she had to retreat, deciding to rest against the walls of the Rose Church where she met Varre, who made fun and dismissed her for being so weak.
⢠Back at the roundtable she notices Rogier's situation and decides to find a way to help him. (Basically what kickstarts her main story)
⢠Still following grace, she needs to be stronger to explore more dungeons and reach farther for any means to help her friend, she takes Agheel's heart to Caelid where her first step in dragon communion happens, she takes on more dragons around the area to further her goal.
(Not defined yet other than her draconic heritage but for the sake of convenience instead of the dragon eyes she can use a dragon form for a short while now, gives a boost in stats for combat but clouds the mind)
⢠Hunting dragons leads her back to Liurnia where she beats Samarag, on her way back she finds Varre again who is now interested in her strenght and offers his usual deal, she reluctanctly agrees bc that's another medium for her goal if needed.
(Pretty much Fia's quest minus "enter Ranni's service" happens here)
⢠Rogier's condition worsens, things get desperate, so she reaches out to Varre and his bloody finger offer.
In the end nothing can help Rogier from dying of deathblight, Emma is left with two curses and the lost of her beloved, she lost the ability to see grace as well.
⢠Varre takes advantage of her grief and makes her get attached to him (whats better than a knight elevated by toxic love?)
⢠Some time passes and Emma makes the trip to the Volcano Manor, now with the craving of more dragon hearts. Meets the recusants, specifically Diallos who is the kindest of them, but she keeps him at arms' distance.
(You can insert the DLC here)
⢠More time passes and they have become friends with benefits, though it distracts her from her duty at Mohgwyns (not good)
⢠In this story its Varre who sends the poachers to kill Diallos
⢠Now that again Emma's got no one else she fully throws herself into being a bloody finger (with a side of dragon hunting). It gets to a point where she's almost always in her dragon form, unable to turn back on her own.
(Next bit subject to change tbh lol)
⢠Her mind and heart broken, in the end funny enough Varre slips speaking about her past lovers' gruesome deaths and thats what does it, the floodgates open and both curses take away her remaining humanity, turning her into a violent mindless beast of blood and fire.

And there it is! I play around a lot in scenarios with my friends but this is basically her canon lore/ending ^^; hardly anything complex but I've been having a lot of fun with it âĄ
#asks#hopefully you did refer to this đ¤Łđ#drake knight emmlyn#elden ring oc#oc#elden ring#tarnished oc#tarnished
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Slow Cooker Beef Pot Roast (0-1 spoon)
I know it's been about half-past forever. Between work and some home issues, I haven't really had the spoons for much. But that's kind of perfect because it means that I do have things to say in this particular bit of journal. Yes, mostly I was doing my tried-and-true regular recipes, but this month I decided to further explore the possibilities of my multicooker (Instant Pot kind of thing but without the brand name recognition). The pressure cooker function is great if you want soup or stew, but this month, I tried the slow cooking function. Honestly, this was a bit of a revelation for me, for reasons I'll go into in a bit more detail once I'm done with the recipe. It's all going to be approximates, mind you - but the best recipes generally are.
So, here's what you'll need
1 good-sized chunk of beef (see notes; somewhere in the 2-3lb range)
1 onion, quartered
3 cups of chopped root vegetables (carrots, parsnips, turnips)
Whole garlic cloves (to taste)
2-3 cups beef stock
1 cup red wine
2 bay leaves
Other herbs and spices to taste (see notes)
Here's what you do:
Sear the outside of the beef - you can use the browning function on your multicooker to do that, but doing it on the stove is quicker
Add the onion, root vegetables, garlic, bay leaves, and other herbs to the multicooker
Place the beef on top of the vegetables; add liquid
Cover and cook on low setting for 6-8 hours
Take out the beef to let it rest for 20 minutes
If you want gravy, strain the remaining liquid into a small saucepan, simmer on medium heat to reduce and gradually stir in maybe 1 tbsp cornstarch to thicken.
FEAST
A few notes:
The best thing about the slow cooker is that you can put everything together the night before. While you're putting together one night's dinner, you can just chop a couple of extra veg, spend another five minutes or so searing the meat, then put everything together in the inner pot of your multicooker and leave it covered in the fridge overnight. Just take it out of the fridge 20 minutes or so before you start cooking it.
The other good thing is that this literally needs nothing else done with it. No watching, no stirring, no nothing. You can switch on your multicooker or even set it to switch itself on at the appropriate time, go to work or whatever, and not only come home with dinner sorted, but you will come home with your whole home smelling wonderful. Then, all you have to do is make gravy if you want to.
Yet another good thing about the slow cooker is that it encourages use of the tougher, and generally cheaper, cuts of meat. The slow cooking breaks it down very well - as an example, I used silverside in mine (nearest to the rump, generally known as a drier and tougher cut) and when it was done and properly rested, it was so tender it fell apart when I so much as tried to get the binding string off. So you get several days' worth of lovely meals at a halfway reasonable price.
As to the beef stock and red wine, looking over several slow cooker beef recipes has led me to believe that as long as there's a certain amount of liquid in there for your beef to soak up, you're good. So experiment with whatever liquids, herbs and spices you want. Honestly, next time I'm going for less beef stock and a half-cup of A1.
I'm going to be doing other things with the slow cooker, so I promise there will be more to watch on this space. If nothing else, I'm having a vegetarian friend of mine over to dinner next month and I figure I should share recipes for things like the planned butternut squash risotto and the no-bake gingerbread cheesecake. Also, Sunday will see me take delivery of a small air fryer, which I feel like will very much improve my quality of life and certainly inspire me to new heights of cookery. And hey, running one of those is cheaper than heating up a single portion of tater tots in the oven.
So ... not dead, just reeeeeeeeeally lacking in spoons. But now I've found some ways to save a few, and this is as good a place as any to spend them.
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You can tag this under 50 Shades, but after I read this post from Hoyolab, hoyolab (.) com/#/article/19978642/, if this is true, I am very disappointed about this direction, though it is one I've seen coming. That being said, you've given your thoughts on the writing. In your ideal world, where would the cards post 2nd anniversary have gone, if you had to keep the general situation/environment, but could change up everything else about it?
holy fuck, the way i actually agree with everything in this post. here is the link for those curious, it's a fantastic read tbh.
a few of us in our tot discord have discussed this as well. here are a few brief snippets below.
sorry for the incoherent mess of thoughts below, words are Not coming easy HAHA.
but yeah... like the post said, barbie is a very good way of putting it.
i used to have the same issue with luke. i'm not a huge fan of characters being good at Too Many Things, especially when there's no flaws to balance it out. it really pulls me out of the story. so like. the more you try to impress me with a character, the less impressed i'll be. which. is why i haaaate artem's newer cards.
see, the thing is, the whole reason why i liked artem in the first place is because of how he felt like the down to earth option. he wasn't the childhood friend/undercover agent/detective/stem genius, he wasn't a ceo and son of the richest family in stellis, and he wasn't literal royalty. he was just a lawyer who worked with rosa. he was bad at talking to people. he was a bit of a homebody. he was LAME. completely inexperienced in romance. he was good at his job, but it was obvious he put all of his skill points into being a lawyer and no where else. his abilities with shooting and cooking were both important aspects to his character, but the skills hoyoverse added beyond that just baffle me.
he wasn't cool, but he was kind and genuine.
ever since second anniversary, there has been absolutely no consistency to artem's character whatsoever.
neil gets mentioned less and less even though he was a major part of artem's life AND character. neil was his father figure, since his parents were rarely, if ever, around. and yet, in recent cards, tot constantly goes out of its way to try and convince us artem's parents did nothing wrong. to add to that, we're lucky if neil is even mentioned.
in earlier cards, it was very clear artem was grieving neil's disappearance (see: entwined fate). it was also clear artem's childhood circumstances were extremely lonely and caused him to try and brush off the neglect because he didn't want to stress out his already busy parents (see: loving memories and his dreams of childhood sr)! earlier cards also hinted at traumatic events and a fear of firearms due to how dangerous neil's job as a lawyer was (see: focus fire).
but for god knows what reason, newer cards said well! fuck all of this! artem no longer gives one single shit about neil! also? honestly? the writers seem confused and disoriented by artem downplaying his childhood issues and just made it so he truly Had no issues with his childhood. which. ok. i guess.
in recent months, we have not had one single card where rosa and artem sit down to talk about how artem feels about neil's disappearance. one single card where artem even openly addresses any traumatic experiences. or emotional neglect in childhood.
remember when focus fire mentioned that a disgruntled mafia member held him and neil at gunpoint because he was pissed neil put everyone else in the gang behind bars?? no?? yeah, me neither! because it's never mentioned again! old tot content implies it was incidents like these, the general emotional neglect from his parents, and neil's disappearance that contributed to artem's closed off personality. but man, fuck that! for some reason!
this doesn't even touch upon artem's romantic and sexual inexperience, which has also been entirely undone. he's a sex god now, i guess.
and let us not forget how artem has learned and forgot the same lessons like, several times. artem did we not learn why jealousy and possessiveness are bullshit in atmospherics, por una cabeza, etc...??? are we really back at this again? and it's not even being addressed as a character flaw anymore? okay! okay. fine! whatever.
but okay. i'm getting off track. you asked me an entirely different question! where would i have liked to have seen the cards go? i think the cards following second anniversary are so... well, nothing that you could probably swap out the plots and avoid losing anything of importance.
honestly, i think artem's cards would have shined the best if they stuck to his original character. so when considering the confines we have now:
artem is extremely emotionally repressed. it'd take time for him to come out of his shell. and his early dating cards do begin like this! it's very endearing! several cards could focus on this progression as he becomes more comfortable and relaxed with rosa. progression into being engaged. living with someone for the first time. please.
rosa and artem's dynamic has like, vanished in recent cards. which is a goddamn shame, because their more comfortable dynamics in his railroad, revisiting youth, and snowfallen secrets cards are so charming! they joke around! artem's sense of humor pokes out! they act like real PEOPLE! they're silly! they're nerds! they're equals! i'd keep this dynamic instead of it just being artem flipping back and forth between sex god and "yes i will do whatever you want [insert player name here]"
neil. please, can we focus on neil. what being a lawyer means to artem. how neil influenced that. how artem feels about neil being gone, how artem feels about neil's possible betrayal of the nxx?? he could always have an arc of going through the stages of grief, or learning to look at things through a new lens. being sad neil won't be around for milestones. etc.
the incidents implied in focus fire. okay, being held at gunpoint is pretty uhhh fucking traumatic. did any other events happen bc of neil's status? his parents' statuses? is this why he is so emotionally repressed? is this why he takes the law so seriously?
his parents. can we stop acting like his parents did nothing wrong. please. his parents used to be portrayed under the "well meaning but ultimately very flawed" light, which i adored. it was grey. it was human. maybe artem could learn that it wasnt right of his parents to be so nonexistent in his life. his parents can still love him and make mistakes. maybe he could rebuild his relationship w his parents? maybe once he realizes what he went through wasn't normal, he can be angry, and work through it. idk! anything! please!
more focus on rosa. her studies. her exams. anything. her family. her past. her hobbies. her teaching artem something. rosa talking about her issues. pelase. Please.
it truly feels like his original writers got swapped out, and the new ones have no idea what artem's charm was in the first place. they have no idea how his character even works, so they're just desperately trying to attach Cool Hobbies to him bc they think he's more boring than the other boys when like. that's the fucking point, that IS his charm.
gosh this was so long and i'm sorry if it's like. UNREADABLE or if i totally missed the point but this was like. Freeing to type out. thank you for reaching out anon, it turns out i had more thoughts than i expected!! hope you're having a lovely day! : )
#tears of themis#artem wing#tot critical#fifty shades of artem#a lot of these started as nitpicks but w the newer cards it just keeps piling up and getting worse!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAA#feel like SHIT want entwined fate and focus fire back!!!!!!!!
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hi mourn do you have any western recommendations? i have not watched one in a hot minute but my sibling + i are doing a movie night soon + we desperately need to stop rewatching the same few westerns haha
Oooh Dodge City is a good one !! It stars Errol Flynn so its automatically high on my list (theres not a ton to warn about but do keep in mind its from 1939 so some scenes dont age well). Its a pretty classic Western plot, sheriff vs cowboys and a romantic sideplot, etc etc
San Antonio is also one I enjoy !!! Again starring Errol Flynn and again a standardish plot. The MC finds out some1 is unlawfully selling cows and bevomes a target bcs of it.
The dollars trilogy from Sergio Leone is good !! ive only seen the first movie tho ToT
If u want a more. unique? ig? one Sukiyaki Western Django is rlly good- it's got western themes but its also abt a war between the Genji and Heike clans. It also has references to both historical Japanese And American wars. If nothing else the lighting is SO pretty sl u shld watch it.
Smth interesting abt Sukiyaki Western Django is that despite it being entirely in english, many of the actors spoke it as a second language, poorly, or not at all. I think it adds to the atmosphere and theme of mixing american and japanese history tho. Watch it with subtitles tho bcs the accents can be really think in come of the characters.
OOH one if my favs if ur more into comedy is The Frisco Kid. It's abt a Polish rabbi who comes to america to be the rabbi for a community on San Francisco, but runs into a tonnnnnn of problems en route and ends up getting the help of a cowboy to get there. Its rlly funny but also rlly sweet. I highly recommend it if u dont want one more of thr classic westerns (some ppl find them boring which. yeah I get that)
Without my rambling heres the list:
Dodge City (classic western )
San Antonio (classic western)
Dollars Triology (classic westerns)
Sukiyaki Western Django (Classic western. kinda.)
The Frisco Kid (comedy western)
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A Series of Firsts
Author(s): A collaboration amongst smutty parishioners of The Church of the Slutty Knee
Pairing(s): Pedro x Oscar
Rating: E18+ MDNI
Word Count: pending
Series Warnings: explicit sexual content, including, but not limited to BDSM, choking, anal, oral, masturbation (self/mutual), toys, public sex
Chapter Summary: Pedro and Oscar discuss consensual power dynamics and safety. Oscar gives Pedro his first lesson.Takes place the day after chapter 3 concludes.
Notes: I know âcool slutty daddyâ didnât happen until 2023, and that Ash Crossan didnât become an entertainment correspondent until 2022, so Iâm taking some liberties (as if this whole story isnât full of them đ¤Ł)
Tag line: âHave you ever craved it? Craved it so badly⌠that it hurts?â
Chapter 4 - First Lesson
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[Pedro narrates]: Al descubrirme totalmente entregado de cuerpo y alma a esta conexiĂłn, surge un nivel de confianza y complicidad que nunca habĂamos experimentado. Nuestras miradas se encuentran, comunicando el ardiente deseo de olvidarse del mundo afuera, y solamente sumergirme en tus ojos inebriantes. Tus besos sellan este momento. No quiero que te vayas.
Upon discovering that my body and soul are totally devoted to this connection, thereâs a level of trust and complicity that we never experienced before. Our gazes meet, communicating the burning desire to forget the world outside, and only dive into your inebriating eyes. Your kisses seal this moment. I donât want you to leave.
Â
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ACT I: Toast and Coffee
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Oscar stands in Pedroâs kitchen cooking lunch. Several pans are on hot burners and a delicious aroma fills the kitchen/living room area.
Oscar hums âTuyoâ as he stirs boiling noodles in one pot and adds spices to a sauce in another. Just as he starts to strain the noodles Pedro pads into the living room wearing a pair of black boxer briefs and nothing else. His bed hair points in all directions. He yawns loudly and stretches his arms above his head.
Checking his watch, Oscar sees itâs a few minutes before noon.
âGood morning, sleepyhead. I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day,â Oscar says cheerfully.
âHow long have I been asleep?â Pedro asks as he stretches again.
âAbout ten hours, give or take. I guess I finally tired you out,â Oscar says with a sly grin as he begins to plate their lunch. âDid you want to eat inside or outside? Itâs late enough that the sun is out and it's another beautiful LA day.â
âLetâs eat outside. Iâll show you the castle I told you about the other night.â
They take their plates, laden with a robust spaghetti in red sauce, out to the balcony.
A soft breeze blows and birds chirp cheerfully. As promised, Pedro points out the castle down the hill. They eat in a comfortable silence, savoring their meals, sipping on Casillero del Diablo. When they do speak the conversation is light and casual.
âAbout yesterdayâŚ" Oscar begins softly. "Iâm so incredibly sorry if I hurt or scared you. That was not my intention at all,â he says, maintaining steady eye contact.
âMy neck is still a little sore, but you didnât hurt me. You just caught me off guard. Up to that second, everything had been so⌠sweet. When I found myself⌠pinned⌠to the shower wall, it was⌠well, it was hot, don't get me wrong. I love your passion. But it was also a bit sudden. I know I should have said something, butâŚâ
âMi Pedrito, mi tigre, mi amor⌠I dropped the ball on this, and Iâm sorry. I should have been paying closer attention. The second you got on your knees, those sexy, slutty knees, I knew the dynamic of our relationship was changing. It was my responsibility to help you navigate that, and make sure I knew your limits. I know we said we were gonna talk about it when I got back last night, but seeing you lying naked in bed⌠I couldnât help myself. But today this conversation is a top priority."
"Oh I know, I have been totally wrapped up in you myself. I don't blame you for getting carried away. I just want to try to do this right. It's all so new."
"It's something I've explored before, so let me guide you. Have you given any more thought to your safe words? I believe we decided that three would be a good starting point. Green, yellow and red.â
âI have! I know itâll probably sound silly, butâŚâ he laughs, then continues, âsince weâve both been dubbed âSpace Daddiesâ, what if our words were astronomy related?â he asks enthusiastically.
âI like that. Did you have anything in particular in mind?â
âFor green I think âmoonlightâ would be good, because Iâve always felt safe in the moonlight. For yellow, I was thinking âstarlightâ, because sometimes stars look like theyâre blinking, like caution lights. And for red, I was thinking ânovaâ, because it sounds like âno vehâ, you know, no-go? But also because itâs an explosion, and things tend to stop pretty fast when theyâve exploded." Pedro laughs joyfully at his own joke.
âThat they do, Pedrito, that they do,â Oscar says, his heart full and happy seeing Pedro back to his usual, goofy self. âI think those are excellent, mi vida. Letâs keep talking inside while I clean up the mess Iâve made in your kitchen,â he says, kissing Pedro tenderly on the forehead.
Collecting their empty dishes they go inside to clean up the kitchen. Pedro collects the cookware from the stove and stacks it neatly beside the sink. Oscar runs hot water and begins rinsing. Pedro wipes down the stove and surrounding countertops. Once heâs done all he can do, Pedro sits on a bar stool, facing Oscar, who is still rinsing dishes and putting them into the dishwasher.
âSo⌠you mentioned yesterday wanting to do âtruly depraved and brutal things with meâŚ" Pedro begins, watching Oscar intently. âWhat sort of things do you imagine doing with me⌠to me?â he asks, his voice equal parts excited and timid.
Oscar smiles at Pedro and flicks water at him as he rinses the final dish.
âWell, since weâve only just begun to explore our desires, letâs start off slow. What do you think about only being able to cum when I say you can?â
Pedro tilts his head slightly, considering what Oscar is asking him.
âYou mean, like we did earlier, where you tell me to touch myself and to slow down so I donât cum too fast?â
âHmm, something like that. But letâs take it a step further. You can only touch yourself when I say you can, whether I'm here or not. And when I say you can touch yourself, know that Iâm not giving you permission to cum. I might let you get close, so very closeâŚâ Oscar licks his lips at the thought of Pedro being desperate for release. âBut until I give you permission, youâre not allowed to cum. And if you do⌠well, disobedience comes with punishment.â
âWhat⌠what sort of punishment?â Pedro asks, his eyebrows arching in fascinated curiosity.
âThatâs something weâll have to figure out together. What sort of punishment do you think youâd deserve for disobeying me, mi tigre?â he asks with a salacious grin.
Pedro bites his lip. âWell⌠since youâre talking about permissions, I suppose a fitting punishment for disobedience in this case would be not letting me cum at all?â he responds softly, looking at Oscar with a sad puppy expression, brows knitted together.
âIf the disobedience continues, yes, that does seem a fitting punishment. Or perhaps Iâll overstimulate you, make you beg me to stop. Youâll be begging either way. Both sound equally delicious,â Oscar says, his smile devious.
Pedroâs eyes widen in shock. Heâd never considered overstimulation before.
âBut before it gets that far, youâll be given warnings. The first warning may be verbal, but could also be something light, like a slap. I know you donât really like harsh physical pain, so Iâd never strike you hard⌠unless you wanted me to. But I think an open palm slap across the face, or on your ass, would be within your tolerance?â
âI think that would be ok. I definitely enjoyed it when you slapped my ass last night. As for my tolerance, I guess weâll just have to discover it together.â A mischievous smirk tugs at his lips. âWhat other things did you want to do with me? Would these things be restricted to certain areas, like our homes? Or would we do stuff in public? Like⌠with the chance of being caught? The possibility of being caught⌠that⌠that actually sounds kind of exciting.â
âOh, that turns you on, does it?â Oscar rubs his chin, contemplating the delightfully devious things he could make Pedro do while in the company of others.
âYeah. My adrenaline always surges when the stakes are higher.â
âIâll keep that in mind. Speaking of public places, youâre going to the premier at the Dolby this evening, right?â
âYeah, gotta support our fellow Space Sister, Diego!â Pedro replies enthusiastically.
âSpace Sisters! I donât know exactly where that name came from, but I love it! Did you want to go together in a âstrictly platonic friendsâ kind of way?â
âYeah, thatâs probably best. But maybe⌠we can fool around in the theater once the lights go down?â Pedro asks, winking playfully.
âMi Pedrito travieso! Whatâs gotten into you? Have I awoken some sort of dormant beast in you?â
Pedro dismounts his stool as Oscar wipes down the counter a final time. Putting his arms around Oscarâs waist, Pedro nibbles Oscarâs earlobe.
âSi, papi,â Pedro purrs softly in Oscarâs ear.
Oscar shivers as the heat of Pedroâs breath causes a chill to run down his spine.
âSpeaking of Space Sisters⌠Moon Knight and Din Djarin, who do you think would win in a fight?â Pedro asks cheerfully, resting his head on Oscarâs shoulder.
âMoon Knight, hands down! Heâs got the power of Khonshu when heâs in his suit. No way Mandoâs gonna beat that!â
âExcuse me, but Mando has a full suit of beskar! Itâs impervious to everything. Whatâs Steven got? A mummy suit?â Pedro scoffs, laughing loudly and slaps Oscarâs shoulder.
Turning to face Pedro, Oscar says âOh, you cheeky little minx. Weâve not even fully laid out the rules of play and youâre already begging for punishment. And I know just the thing. While you were sleeping I went into town and did a little shopping. Bring me the bag by the sofa and Iâll show you what I got,â Oscar says excitedly.
Pedro spots the bag by the sofa and brings it to the bar, handing it to Oscar, who is now sitting on a stool.
âItâs heavy. Whatâs in it?â Pedro asks, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Oscar rummages around in the bag, placing miscellaneous articles of clothing, rope and some industrial looking straps, onto the bar before finally pulling out a thin box. Pedro sits on the next stool, watching as the pile of mysteries grows. Pedroâs eyebrow arches as he tries to figure out exactly what heâs looking at on the bar and in Oscarâs hand. Oscar opens the box and pulls out a sleek black device with a ring attached. He also palms a small remote control.
âUh⌠what the fuck is that Oscar?â Pedro asks, eyes wide, voice slightly raised.
âThis, mi tigre, this is going to be your undoing. Itâs a prostate massager with flexible teasers and internal warming. Itâs remote controlled. That way, when you need⌠behavior modification, I can make adjustments discreetly. Letâs go try it on.â
Â
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ACT II: The Test
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A few hours later Pedro and Oscar are in Pedroâs bedroom getting ready to head to the Dolby Theatre. Pedro stands in front of a full length mirror wearing an unbuttoned dress shirt and black boxer briefs. Oscar is dressed in a similar dress shirt and dress pants. Oscar buttons Pedroâs shirt while Pedro works on Oscarâs bow tie.
âAre you sure it feels ok? Itâs not uncomfortable or poking anywhere it shouldnât?â Oscar asks, his tone caring, full of concern.
âNo, itâs fine. It doesnât feel nearly as good as you do, but itâs still a pleasant sensation.â
âWant to test it out real quick, make sure everything is where it needs to be? Wouldnât want to find out somethingâs wrong on the carpet.â
âYeah, thatâs probably a good idea. Just keep it on low. I donât want to become a Lonely Island song clichĂŠ,â Pedro quips with a smirk.
Oscar stifles a laugh and presses the power button. A Cheshire Cat grin manifests as Pedroâs breath catches and he moans softly. When Oscar doesnât immediately turn the device off Pedro looks at him expectantly.
âReally? Youâre gonna keep it turned on?â Pedro responds in a bratty tone, arching his eyebrow.
âLetâs test the range. I need to see how far away I can be and still have this thing function,â Oscar responds, ignoring Pedroâs sass for the time being.
Oscar steps out of Pedroâs bedroom and walks down the hallway. Every few feet he hits the up button and grins when he hears Pedro moan loudly. On his way back to the bedroom he can hear that Pedroâs moaning has softened, but comes in ragged gasps.
âI guess itâs got a pretty decent range, yeah?â
âUnless you want me to have to change, you need to turn that off, right now. Iâm seriously going to cum any second,â Pedro pants, his tone a bit more commanding than heâd intended.
Oscar glares at Pedro for several seconds, maintaining unwavering eye contact, letting Pedro know that he overstepped by making demands. He finally switches the toy off, and Pedro sighs in relief when the silicone inside him stops vibrating.
"Did you just tell me what I NEED to do?" he says with a soft, menacing tone, eyes dark.
"Yep. And you did it, didn't you?" Pedro replies in a casually triumphant way, pursing his lips in a smirk.
"Testing me already? Tsk tsk tsk," Oscar clicks his tongue in disapproval, his harsh glare turning into a smirk of his own, which somehow makes him look even more threatening.
Stepping closer, invading Pedroâs personal space, Oscar wraps his right hand possessively around Pedro's straining erection. Oscar's other hand moves behind Pedro's hips to find the base of the toy, placed perfectly between his cheeks. Oscar pushes the toy into him in tiny pulses, each micro-movement causing Pedro to gasp. Oscar's right hand moves down to cup his balls firmly but not painfully.
"WHEN are you going to cum?" Oscar growls in his ear.
Pedro whimpers, "Please⌠I⌠oh my god," he barely manages between gasps.
"When?" Oscar demands, the grip of his right hand tightening slightly, just on the verge of becoming painful.
All trace of sass gone now, Pedro feels every part of his body electrified and aching with tension and excitement.
"When... when you give me permission, Daddy," Pedro pants.
"Thatâs my good boy. Don't forget," he warns, releasing Pedro from his grip. Pedro slumps in a combination of relief and longing for more. He can tell heâs in for a long evening.
Â
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ACT III: The Denial
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thirty minutes later theyâre getting out of the studios private car in front of the Dolby Theater. A flurry of flashes momentarily blind them as they start walking towards the staging area near the start of the famous red carpet. They find Diego, exchange hugs, then get in line to walk down the long line of press. At each of the press stations, just as the interviewer is asking Pedro about his upcoming projects, Oscar hits the button on the remote nestled in his pocket. As the line progresses the intensity of the vibrations changes, up, down, never remaining consistent. Oscar delights when Pedro gasps just as heâs about to answer each reporter. The last reporter in line, their favorite, is Ash. Ash, the reporter who would eventually help birth Pedroâs title of âCool Slutty Daddyâ into the world. Oscar knows Pedro absolutely relishes the playful title and casual flirtation, but tries to play it down on Disney red carpets. That just isnât a very Disney thing to talk about at one of the House of Mouse events.
Ash: âSo Pedro, are you excited to see Diego in a Star Wars role?â
âAbsolutely! Iâm always happy to support a fellowâŚâ Heâs cut short as Oscar hits the button, increasing the frequency of vibrations of their new toy. Pedro coughs to cover the gasp. âLatino Space Sister!â he finishes quickly. Ash raises her eyebrow, silently asking if heâs ok. Pedro shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, urging her to continue.
Pedro answers a few more of Ashâs questions before being led off by Oscar into the venue. As other attendees are taking their seats Pedro notices that Oscar keeps glancing over his shoulder.
âWhat are you looking for, Oscar?â Pedro asks, trying to find where Oscarâs gaze keeps being drawn.
âIâm keeping an eye on the balcony. It looks like itâs closed off for the event. Once the lights go down Iâm going to go up there and make sure itâs empty. Iâll text you when itâs all clear.â
Pedro nods and they both chit chat with other celebrities sitting around them as they wait. After about fifteen minutes the lights begin to dim and the theater goes dark. Another five minutes later Oscar taps Pedroâs hand and points up, indicating heâs going to check on the balcony situation. A few minutes later Pedroâs phone buzzes.
Pedro exits the auditorium, turns right, enters the first door on the right and mounts the stairs to the balcony. The path is lit by tiny running lights on either side of the steps. After a few moments Pedro finally sees light from the screen below. Oscar is sitting at the edge of the balcony, arms hanging over the rails, watching Diego tower over the audience on the projection screen.
âHey,â Pedro says softly as he takes a seat next to Oscar.
Oscar turns to face him, cups Pedroâs face in his hands, and kisses him greedily. During the kiss Oscar presses the power button on the remote. Pedro moans into Oscarâs mouth as the sensation rocks him. Oscar gets up from his chair and stands before Pedro, his silhouette blocking the screen. Oscar places his left foot against the inside of Pedroâs right foot, and with his right he forces Pedroâs legs apart.
Oscar gazes into Pedroâs eyes as he works to undo Pedroâs belt buckle. Oscar can see Pedroâs eyes grow dark with desire as he works on the button and zipper. Pedro lifts his hips as Oscar moves to pull his pants and boxers down. A devilish grin spreading across his face, Oscar presses the up button on the remote in his pocket. Pedro gasps audibly. Crouching before him, Oscar grips Pedroâs shaft possessively and begins to stroke him slowly. After a few moments Pedro is gripping the arms of his seat, breathing heavily. With each moan Oscar changes his pace. Faster, slower, faster. He presses another button on the remote and Pedro groans in delight as the device heâs been fitted with begins to get warm.
âFuckâŚâ Pedro grunts hoarsely.
âAre you close, mi tigre?â Oscar asks.
âYes, Daddy, Iâm so fucking close. Can I cum, Daddy? Daddy, please?
âNo, mi tigre, you cannot,â Oscar purrs.
Oscar gets up off his haunches, sits down beside Pedro, and turns off the device. His demeanor edging on boredom. Pedro whimpers at the loss of Oscarâs hand on his now throbbing, aching cock, and the loss of heat and vibration from the device embedded inside him. Pedro moves his hand to stroke himself to finish. Oscar slaps it away.
âPerhaps I wasnât clear before,â Oscar says in a velvety tone. âI said you CANNOT touch yourself without my permission. And I do NOT give you permission to touch yourself, nor do I give you permission to cum, mi osito.â Oscar smiles sweetly at his pet.
Pedro whimpers again and moves to pull up his pants. Oscar reaches a gentle hand out to stop him. Pedro looks at him with glistening, sad eyes, which glint in the light from the screen below. Oscar just shakes his head, not looking at Pedro for more than a few seconds. When Pedro puts his hands on the armrests again he starts stroking them absentmindedly. Oscar places his left hand over Pedroâs right and gently strokes his fingers, letting his own trace over and move between Pedroâs restless fingers. Several minutes later, when he sees that Pedro has calmed down, and is no longer breathing heavily, Oscar reaches over and begins to stroke Pedro again. Heâs almost instantly hard at Oscarâs touch. Moving deliriously slow, Oscar brings Pedro to the brink again, then stops, occasionally employing the prostate massager. This continues in 30 minute increments for the duration of the premier. Luckily for Pedro the screening is not longer than two hours. As the credits start to roll Oscar tells Pedro to make himself presentable because they have to be social before he can take Pedro home.
Pedro inhales sharply. âPlease, Daddy. Iâve never been so desperateâŚâ he moans, âas I am right now.â
Oscar moans softly in response. âYou donât know desperate yet, darling,â Oscar purrs softly.
âIâm so fucking horny, Daddy. Will you please let me cum when we get home?â Pedro asks softly. âPlease?â he begs, barely above a whisper, desperation evident in his voice.
âYes, mi osito, Iâll let you cum when we get home. If you behave.â
âYes, Daddy.â
Â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ACT IV: The Release
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oscar stands in front of the glass walls in Pedroâs bedroom, staring out over the twinkling city, as he removes his clothes. He turns around to face Pedro, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, awaiting instruction, looking a little nervous. Oscar crosses the room, takes Pedroâs hands, and pulls him to his feet. He begins to slowly undress Pedro.
âDo you remember the words, mi tigre?â Oscar asks, making direct eye contact with Pedro, his expression serious. He unbuttons Pedroâs shirt, shrugs it over his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor with his own. Pedroâs pants and boxer briefs soon join the pile.
âYeah, I remember,â he nods and looks away, slightly embarrassed.
âLook at me. Say them. Tell me what they are. I want to be absolutely certain you understand before we start.â Oscar cups Pedroâs chin and gently turns his head so that Pedro has to look at him.
âGreen is âmoonlightâ, yellow is âstarlightâ and red is ânovaâ,â he responds, maintaining eye contact this time.
âGood. I donât want you to forget once we get started. Use them if you need them, but donât feel like you have to say them just to say them. Now, lie down in the middle of the bed and get comfortable⌠weâre gonna be here for a while,â he says, a mischievous smile slowly emerging.
Pedro does as instructed, propping himself up with a stack of pillows so that heâs reclining slightly. Oscar climbs onto the bed and straddles Pedroâs hips, sitting on his thighs.
âHave you ever done this before?â
âNot quite like this, no. Iâve changed pace before, but never prolonged it more than a few minutes. How⌠how long do you plan to stretch it out?â he asks, his brows knitting with concern.
âUntil I feel like youâve earned it. Iâm going to stroke this beautiful cock of yours until youâre begging me to let you cum, mi Pedrito travieso (my naughty Pedrito). And when I feel youâre sufficiently desperate for it⌠thatâs when Iâll let you cum for me. There are only three very simple rules you have to follow once we start. One, you can only refer to me as âDaddyâ. Two, no touching. This means no touching me, and absolutely no touching yourself. I donât want to have to restrain you, mi tigre, but I will if necessary. Three, youâre going to have to show me, beg me, to let me know just how badly you want it. But, if I see youâre getting too eager, too close to disobeying me⌠Iâll have to stop until youâve regained control over yourself. Understood?â
âYes, Daddy,â Pedro responds obediently.
Oscar reaches down and firmly clasps Pedro in his fist, but doesnât begin to stroke yet.
âDo you feel that? My hand on your delicious cock?â
Pedro nods and sighs heavily.
âGood. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels,â Oscar whispers as he begins pumping Pedro slowly.
âThat...â Pedro moans. âthat feels so good, Daddy,â Pedro says with a shiver.
Oscar doesnât respond verbally; he just strokes languidly, agonizingly so. Pedroâs hips buck gently under Oscarâs weight, causing Oscar to stop, realizing Pedro is already so close to disobedience.
âOh no, this just wonât do. Iâve barely touched you and youâve already started to buck. Youâve still got to earn it baby. Now focus, or this will be agonizingly slow,â Oscar says.
Pedro nods and Oscar resumes his slow stroking. His free hand gently traces lines across Pedroâs chest, pinching his nipples. Pedro moans softly.
Pedro moans loudly, âHave you ever craved it? Craved it so badlyâŚâ he gasps, âthat it hurts?â
âI just wanna hear you say it, Daddy. I wanna hear you say I have toâ, he moans, âbeg you,â his breath hitches and he gasps, âto let me cum.â
âIf you want to cum⌠youâre gonna have to earn it, mi puta (my whore).â
âPlease,â Pedro begs.
âPlease. Please. Please.â Pedro sighs in frustration. âDaddy, please.â
âDaddy loves hearing you beg,â Oscar moans. âHearing you sound sooo fucking DESPERATE to please me.â
âYou promised,â Pedro responds in a soft voice.
âPlease! Please! PleaseâŚâ he begs desperately.
âNo! Not yet,â Oscar responds, impatience creeping into his tone.
âBaby,â Pedro pleads plaintively.
Oscar slaps Pedro across the face. The sound reverberates in the quiet room.
âNo me digas baby, mi pecadorcito. No recuerdo haber dicho que podĂas dejar de suplicar, (donât call me baby, my little sinner. I don't remember saying that you could stop begging)â Oscar says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
âPerdoĚname, Papi (forgive me, Daddy),â Pedro apologizes.
âParece que no lo quieres tanto, tampoco suenas desesperado (it seems that you don't want it so much, you don't sound desperate either).â
âDaddy, Please! I want⌠need⌠you to let me cum. You promised.â
âI said no.â
Pedro sighs again, his frustration growing. âDaddy, please. Fuck.â
âOh my godâŚâ Pedro gasps out of breath.
âPlease, Daddy, you promised youâd let me cum this time,â Pedro laments.
âFuck.â
âLet me cum, Daddy! I need it! I need it⌠so fucking badly,â Pedro pleads desperately.
âFuck, please,â Pedro begs.
âFuck⌠you promised. OooohâŚâ
Oscarâs cock twitches at Pedroâs last gasp. Pedro stares at it with unbridled lust. Oscar moans and reaches for the lube. After quick, liberal application to himself and Pedro he slowly slides into Pedroâs tight ass. They both moan as he moves deeper. Oscar moves slowly, almost imperceptibly, while continuing to stroke Pedroâs cock.
âPlease⌠baby,â he whispers softly.
Oscar smacks Pedro across the face again.
Pedroâs entire body shudders from the sudden, but expected, contact.
âFuck. Oh fuck.â
âIâm gonna⌠oh fuck.â
âI said no,â Oscar says again, his tone more forceful.
âFuck. IâmâŚâ Pedro moans, âIâmââ
âWeâre almost there baby, almost thereâŚâ Oscar says encouragingly.
Pedro moans desperately, barely able to breathe.
âYou look sufficiently desperate now. Do you think youâve earned it yet, mi puta?â
âYes, yes, IâmâŚâ
âYes! Fuck yes⌠yes!â Pedro exclaims.
âYouâre so fucking sexy when you beg,â Oscar says softly.
âCum for me, Pedrito,â Oscar says, finally granting his pet the permission heâs been begging so long for.
âIâmâŚâ Pedro begins, but as soon as his brain registers that heâs finally been given permission heâs been longing for, he cums hard, almost on demand. His body trembles from his orgasm and he moans loudly. The sheer force of his release expels the air from his lungs, rendering him unable to speak momentarily.
Oscar cums as Pedro rides the wave of his own orgasm.
âFuck,â Pedro sighs.
His body still trembling, Pedro says, âGod, that was⌠fucking⌠incredible, Daddy. Thank you.â
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
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It follows you...
Yep. There it is. Bound to happen. This is still not as bad as Arizona - which, my followers should know, I fled due primarily to the concentration camps for tots, but this BS was ramping up as I got out and continued after I left. And, yes, the "children are identifying as kitty-cats" lie, baby-talk and all, has made its way here too.
Do you want to know why there's cat litter in some US classrooms, Canada? Because I know, and I'll tell ya.
It's so they can make an emergency bucket toilet in the event of a lockdown during a shooting. Children in the States go to school every day knowing they may die in any number of fun ways, and being shot is just one of them. To make them - and the rest of us - feel a bit better about that, ha-ha, we tried to make an absorbent material available for them to pee in while they're waiting for an active shooter to break down their door and kill them.
Now, you have much less of a gun problem, Canada, but that's a goal you can shoot for if you so desire! Ha-ha! I don't know what it is about the disintegration of American conservativism and the Republican party and democracy itself you find so attractive, but if you feel like you need that in your culture, you can have it! Your system has similar vulnerabilities to exploit! Adopt, adapt and improve!
We knew that, probably, we weren't going to find a safe place to land, just a relatively safer one. It's been good for me. I am finally getting healthcare - though it took a shitton of luck and perseverance. And I'm gonna need even more of it to keep fighting for a space for myself and others like me.
Canada, you are repairing the broken body of an anarchist who is willing to burn property and politicians to the ground to protect people. I don't want to show up to a protest and take attention away from others who need it by having a health emergency, so I'm relatively quiet right now. That will change (if my luck holds!). And, by god, you couldn't resist giving me a reason to get back out there, couldja?
Nobody is bothering to attack these "no gender or sexuality in school" liars on the basis of language. Which, inasmuch is they're trying to pen legislation, is the only way to go. If they get what they say they want, cis and het need to go in the trash right next to everything queer. That's... most of the curriculum. Everything referring to boys and girls, moms and dads, even the concept of children (where do children come from, again?). If nothing else, that should be rejected on the basis of how expensive it is.
But everyone in politics and the media seems willing to accept the comfortable fiction that cisgender isn't a gender and heterosexuality isn't a sexuality. It's implicit that we're only having a conversation about whether or not to teach the weird ones, but that is not what these people are saying. The protest signs and the rules and laws they write do not make exceptions. Well, that would look like discrimination! Because IT IS, motherfuckers.
I'm not ready to get out there and start making noise yet. I still got medication woes. Increasing the estrogen dented the amount of thyroid I'm able to absorb - as expected. I'm doing a little Flowers-for-Algernon and monitoring my symptoms so I can give the thyroid guy more information, probably I'll get back to him next week.
May I add that my hormone specialist does not deal with estrogen at all because, although it is a hormone, estrogen is gendered? I have to go to the lady doctor to manage my lady hormone, and then run back to the other guy for the rest of me. Conservatives, I would support a little less gender in society, if that was really what you wanted. I have a vested self-interest here.
Gotta make at least one more lap - gynecologist to endocrinologist and back - and then we'll see. Fingers crossed for a new angry NB in the new year! In the meantime, Godspeed to everyone out there trying to make a difference for the better.
#cbc news#canadian news#canadian politics#us politics#genders#queer rights#that ol' kitty litter lie#long post#đ¸đ§ #sir i know furries i have shitted near furries and furries do not shit in litterboxes#dammit i've known CATS who refuse to shit in litter boxes#went camping with a bunch of furries and ended up staying in a backyard because the campground closed#we all used the toilet and ate at a buffet!#and lemme tell you there ended up being a lot of shit because we chose the buffet... poorly#never eat at a place called âterrible'sâ
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Before the actual ask, i have a suggestion: maybe add some general non-tot asks/req rules? bc i'm writing this rn like "this may be uncomfortable but i don't want to make you uncomfortable but i don't know if it will make you uncomfortable but-" đđđ
now um, my ask:
i'm currently getting struck by gender dysphoria at very random moments and i don't like it. thing is, i don't know what my gender might be since it goes both ways and I was wondering, if you wouldn't mind sharing: how did you figure out you're trans?
hi anon!!! lemme go thru this one by one but first, i wanna preface everything with: dont worry, none of this makes me uncomfortable and you said nothing wrong. theres nothing here that cause for panic on ur end, it's alright, ur alright :D
okay so
on general non-tot asks/req rules:
i do have these rules!! theyre just not as Many as my tot-specific ones, but on my rules page u'll find these in the 2nd section :D
theyre like, reaaaaally general but the overall rule for all other asks is basically "be nice, i cant read tone well, and dont spam" so no worries, ur all good. i dont wanna make these rules any more specific because everything else seems like a case to case basis yknow
and now to the bulk of my answer
on trans stuff:
short answer on how i found out i was trans: it made me happy. god, it made me so happy and it makes me happy to this day.
long answer: come with me, anon, through my gender journey through the years....JKSDHVFKJSDHVKFSD
ok so for the longest time i knew i wasnt completely woman aligned in the gender department. like, from ages 14-20 i had identified as a bunch of different genders. first i identified as bigender, then i backpedaled and went back to just having "she/her" in my bio because i had a Moment Of Panic wondering "no no the Genders are for people who Really Truly Identify (whatever that means) and i shouldnt co-opt these terms because im not even sure what i am!! im not allowed to identify as bigender until i really figure it out!!*", and then for a while i identified as nonbinary, and then the pandemic happened which i think hilariously due to the lockdowns had the cool side effect of many people figuring out Personal Things and at some point in 2021 i was like ".....hey im a guy, actually. it makes me happy to be a guy"
*sidenote 1: this "but am i allowed to?" worry is a common thing i see a lot from other people also going through their journey of questioning their gender, and i wanna talk about it specifically later on in this response, but bACK ON TOPIC FIRST---
sidenote 2: yes, like a pokemon trainer, i have collected the three starter pronouns. she, they, and he. KJHAVFLASVFALSJK
backtracking through the other genders i had identified as, i'd chosen them all at the time for similar reasons: joy. i identified as bigender because i felt recognized for the first time, an identity where i could be both feminine and masculine. i identified as nonbinary because i adored the comfort of that freedom and that fluidity. i identify as a trans guy now because i realized that i can find joy in being a guy and still enjoy expression of "non-guy" things because guys who like pink and frilly fashion and plushies is still a valid and real type of guy, it's the type of guy i am. and these are more on the positive markers of gender expression, the opposite of gender dysphoria: gender euphoria, the happiness when gender stuff feels just right
btw, you are indeed using the term gender dysphoria correctly. that simply pertains to any kind of distress or upsetness due to gender things Not feeling right. within that definition, theres no requirement for you Already Having To Identify to use it, because otherwise thatd mean anybody who found out they were trans only after experiencing gender dysphoria was using it incorrectly, which seems rather silly. and even if the definition Did have that requirement.......who cares? JKHDFVSKDJHFVKSD i mean that in the most genuine and sincere way ever, because so long as it is harming nobody, who cares what word you use? sure, a Bunch of people care actually, and a bunch of people will pitch a fit policing on being allowed to use certain gender words and whatnot. but in general ive taken to trying to remember that like.....gender stuff is a Personal thing. it is the business of the Person Themselves, as it is our identity. it is up to us to define it, to explore it, to make our own choices on it. and well....generally, people who think your expression is any of their business is, at best, nosy, or at worse, a bigot.
i went on a tangent there sorry VSDFLJBFL, but my point is dont worry, youre using the term right. if youre feeling Not Good because something about The Genders doesnt fit, yeah thats dysphoria. and im so so sorry youre experiencing this, because it sucks
i said before that my main marker for realizing gender stuffs was the presence of a positive emotion, instead of the presence of a negative one. but i also experienced gender dysphoria, it just wasnt as big of a thing in my own journey. for me, it was less of a wrongness and more of a vague...discomfort. like wearing shoes that dont fit. it's fine some days but other days i couldnt stand it but my legs still work and i was much more focused on the times i Did find figurative shoes that fit immensely well.
.....oh something i think that wld be important for me to mention is that i kinda....somehow always knew i was of Another Gender. but i kept hesitating and kept backtracking because, kinda like what you say, it went both ways for me
im a guy. but i also really liked things that are traditionally seen as feminine, i still do. ive got a closet full of lolita fashion dresses, mixed in with the ridiculous amounts of plaid shirts ive got. throughout my life, i was never really regarded as masculine by other people, more often i was seen by others as some kind of manic pixie androgynous being. and these things, they made me hesitate. how can i be a guy if so much of who i am is seen by others as Not-Guy stuff?
well, eventually it's cuz i figured that what others think should have nothing to do with who i am and who i choose to be. relating back to what i said about Genders being a personal thing yknow. why was i so worried about what other people thought of a thing that only concerned me?
yknow one of the most gender affirming experiences ive ever had in my life was back was i was in college. i was just going out and about for a group work thing, and the classmates along with me were rowdy manly cisguys and i was feeling low and it showed, i was all meek and sad and shit. and then this lady came up to me, and i didnt get to know if she was a transwoman or a femme presenting gay man, but she sat with me and chatted with me and eventually she asked
(this convo happened in filipino but roughly translated it went)
her: do you want to be a boy?
me: yes (i answered so instinctively. at the time, i was identifying as nonbinary, but she asked a question and i gave my honest answer. yes. yes i did.)
her: well, youre very handsome! youre more handsome than any of them //gestures at the cisguy classmates
and that stucks with me to this day. another queer person asking Me what I Wanted, and affirming that. didnt matter that i looked like how i looked, that i obviously wasnt as objectively or normatively masculine as the cismen around us. what mattered was what i wanted, and i was handsome for it, and that was that.
after that we just talked about pop music, but i felt so good the rest of the day
now...on the unwritten question here of "how do you (as in, anon, or any other reader out there) know you're trans (or any kind of other gender designation)?" or if you already know you are some other gender, how do you figure it out? who do you ask?:
im sorry for how cheesy or seemingly unhelpful what im going to say next is, but i cannot stress how crucial it is: the only person who can ever answer these is You. ask yourself what makes you happy, what would alleviate your discomfort, what would cause comfort, what youre drawn to, etc.
but if i can give any unsolicited advice on that....itd be to make sure that the person youre asking, the person who is giving the answer, is really You. not the thoughts or opinions of other people, not the rules of what is considered 'norm', not the fears or the worries circling around the question, dont ask those things dont find the answer in those things. the person to give the answers is You.
and btw!! You can change sometimes. and sometimes your answer can change too, and thats okay if ever that happens. all my prior answers to this question changed in through life, and it doesnt mean any of my prior answers were wrong (sans the time i backpedaled, because then i wasnt getting the answer from Me, i was getting the answer from Worries). it just meant that those were the answers for Me when i was at that stage of my life.
tldr: i figured out i was trans because it made me so damn happy to be and also because i stopped giving a shit about what other people thought
i hope this response makes sense and that theres something in here that can help you out. im wishing you the best, anon <3
#asks#anon#sorry this response is messy and all over the place my brain aint at its best lately skdf but still i hope something in here can help
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could u maybe write how Sun and Moon would handle a best friend with depression having a bad âcanât get out of bedâ type of day? I know this is a bit heavy so itâs ok if u donât wanna write it â¤ď¸
No you're good! I've had a fair few of those days myself, no fun whatsoever, so it's nice to have a little hurt/comfort to write and read later. Also I'm so, so sorry this took so long Nonnie, as an apology I poured in all the cute I had in the writing kitchen
TW: Implied depression, err platonic cuddling? Technically no romance (although I'm gonna come clean and admit I originally missed the "best friend" bit sgshjs so sorry again Nonnie) it's supposed to be platonic, but you could read it as romance if ya fancy. Annnnd I think that's it!
Hey Moony :) For the most part, everything's going swell! Only⌠a couple of things going on. Javier had to go home early, he had a liiii-ttle bit too much Fizzy Faz and got sick (it's been all cleaned up now though, don't worry.)
The other thing is about our friend. I think they're upset. Can you check on them, Moony? They just kept saying they're fine, but I don't think they are :(
Moon let his gaze linger on the note in his hands a moment longer, a twinge of concern sparking through his wires and tightening his chest.Â
He folded the note with nimble fingers and tucked it inside the hidden pocket of his pants, before reaching up and pulling the spare blanket he'd come for off the creaky shelving, gaze sweeping across the inventory for something that might help if something was wrong.
A glint of light caught Moon's attention from the floor as he padded sideways, and he stopped to consider it. Well⌠worth a try. Better than anything else in here.
After plucking the object off the floor, he exited the storage closet with rolled blankets pinned under his arms, silently nudging the disguised door shut behind him with a slippered foot.
Despite the bells, Moon had gotten good at being sneaky, and the children were not alerted to his presence, allowing him to add the new blankets to the nap area without interruption.
He snuck glances over at you from where you sat, surrounded by the little ones and with a large storybook open on your lap. Even with his night vision, he couldn't quite make out your face, but the abnormal lack of enthusiasm in your voice only made his worry grow. There was variation between characters, enough to keep the children enraptured, but it carried a distinct tiredness behind it, and Moon wanted nothing more than to swaddle you up and take you somewhere nice and cozy.
"Mr. Moon?"
A whisper in the dark and a tug at his pant leg caught his attention, and he peered down at the tot that had snuck up on him, starry fabric clutched in her hand.
"Hello, little Kiera. Is everything okay?" Moon crouched and tilted his faceplate, the girl's curious expression bathed in blue light.
Kiera nodded, then gave a toothy smile and pointed at the blanket he'd just set down. "Can I be a shoo-shi roll?"
Moon let out a quiet chuckle and booped her nose affectionately, pleased at the giggle it caused. "Of course you can." In Moon's experience, nothing quite put a smile on a human's face like watching other humans be silly. And fifty giggling human children wrapped up in blankets was certainly a very silly sight. Not to mention adorable.
Kiera laid down on the blanket, cheeks puffed out as a result of trying- and failing- to contain her laughter, and Moon began to roll her up, an amused noise of his own slipping out.Â
"How's that? Not too tight?" Moon asked once he was finished, and Kiera shook her head quickly.
"It's perfect! I'm a swordfish!"
Moon's frame shook with nigh-silent laughter as he scooped her up under his arm, gently shushing her when she squealed in delight. "You certainly are. Now, shall we go get your brother?"
"Yea! He can be a tuna! And Lisa can be a crab, annnd Victor can be a salmon, andâŚ"
Moon had timed it just right so that you had finished the story upon their arrival, and as he predicted, within seconds of spotting Kiera happily being toted around as a tuna roll, every last child had also wanted to be transformed into sushi.
It didn't take much longer than that to get the children to sleep- Moon could personally attest to how comfortable being rolled up into a blanket was, having tried it himself out of curiosity- and he was able to make his way over to you where you were sat in the beanbag, completely still apart from where your thumb softly stroked the gilded spine of the closed book you looked down upon.
Upon his approach, you blinked, then raised your head slowly. The lingering worry that had been ever-present jumped to a full on buzz of concern when he caught a glimpse of just how tired you looked before you smiled. But it didn't quite reach your eyes, the usual lively gleam gone.
"Hello, Starlight." Moon whispered, slipping his hand into his pocket to pull out the object he'd plucked from the storage closet. "Sunny said you seemed upset. Penny for your thoughts?"
Your attention flickered to the copper coin he held pinched between silicone fingers and thumb, and you huffed in quiet amusement after a moment.
"Ah, you know him. He's always worried." You offered him a small smile, then turned your gaze back to the book. Moon hesitated, then slipped the coin back in his pocket. That wasn't a denial, but you clearly didn't want to talk about it either. Hm.
"M-Moony?" Your eyes widened as Moon flopped down beside you and pulled you into his embrace, his front pressed to yours, faceplate gently nuzzling the top of your head while his arms cradled you close.
"Is this okay?" He murmured, long fingers woven in your hair pausing their slow scratching.
"I- yeah, but, the kids-"
"The little ones are fine, fast asleep. They all had a Moondrop before their nap."
You were silent, but you moved in closer, arms winding around him, and he resumed gently rubbing circles on the back of your head.
A muffled noise caught his attention, and he paused briefly to listen. It came again, slightly more audible this time, and again, now accompanied by your body beginning to tremble and shake in his arms. Oh, Starlight.
"It's okay. Let it out. I've got you." Moon murmured, shifting to let you in more as you squeezed at him.
"I-I'm sorry." Came the choked reply after a minute, and he shook his head above you.
"You've nothing to be sorry for."
"But I- I'm crying all over your ruffles." You whispered, fingers flexing where they clutched at his shoulder, and Moon let out an amused hum.
"Starlight. Do you have any idea how much drool, vomit, and snot the Daycare accumulates on a daily basis?"
"Gross." He felt your brow furrow against his shoulder, but heard the short giggle you let out.
"Mmhmm. Tears are sanitary, at least. And-" His voice softened. "I meant it when I said there's no need to be sorry. But, you know you don't have to be so strong all the time. It's okay to not be okay."
"...I know." Your voice was quiet, cracking again. "I just- I didn't want to burden you two with my problems. You already have so much to deal with."
If Moon had a heart, it would certainly have shattered. Even on your bad days, you still held such care for others. Even others like him and Sun, literal machines designed to handle fifty children and all their problems. Of course, they were more than machines, and they did get stressed, thank you very much Corporate, but-
"Starlight, we adore you, you're our best friend. As far as we're concerned, your problems are our problems. You can always come and talk to us, about anything. You are not a burden." Moon moved his hand to rub your trembling back as he spoke, music box clicking to life within him.
For awhile, the two of you lay together without speaking, only the soothing chimes of the music box, Moon's machinery, and the sound of your breathing as it deepened and slowed filled the air, and the lunar animatronic became vaguely aware of slipping into a restful trance of his own.
But the disappointing, telltale clicks and whirs of the generators powering up soon roused him, and he focused blearily on his internal clock. Thirty minutes already?
"Starlight?" He began as the two of you slowly untangled yourselves. You looked up at him- definitely still tired, but the mood scan indicated you were content, at least. "Would you like to stay over tonight, for a sleepover in our room?"
"Oh." You looked surprised for a moment, then smiled, looking a bit like yourself again. "Yeah, I'd love to. Are you⌠sure it's okay?"
"Yes. I apologize that we didn't allow you to visit sooner, we just had to ensure it was clean⌠and there would be no issues for you to navigate up there." The distinct, loud whirs of the dial around his and Sun's room balcony reminded him to hurry, and he helped you to your feet. "I'll send you the route via your Fazwatch. And, Stardust?"
"Mm?"
"I'm glad you're here."
~~~~~
Sun perked up as he picked up on the sound of footsteps outside the secret entrance to his and Moon's room. Well, perked up more than he already was- he'd been bouncing around excitedly ever since he'd read Moon's note.
He leapt off the edge of the bed and swung the door open, and you only got a split second to look surprised before he was picking you up, giggling and nuzzling against you as he carried you in.
"Hello to you too!" You laughed, and Sun twirled you around, letting out a boisterous laugh of his own.
"Dewdrop! Oh, I'm so happy to see you!" His rays fluttered and pulsed as he finally set you down on the bed, dropping to a crouch next to you and digging through a bag pre-placed at the foot of the bed. "Moony told me you weren't feeling well after all, so I got out my best sleepover supplies! I, ah, had to borrow some from the lost and found, but I'll return them tomorrow."
He pulled out a stack of dvds, placing them next to you and giving them a little pat, then turned back to the bag and pulled out some hot cocoa packets, a rolled up electric blanket- "no heating when the lights go out, but this should keep you warm until they come back on!" -and roughly thirty popcorn bags.
You slid off the bed and kneeled next to him, wrapping your arms as best you could around the large animatronic and burying your head in his chest, prompting him to let out a soft 'oh' and hug you back. "Thank you, Sunny."
"Of course." He whispered, squeezing you tight. "Can't have my Sunshine upset, hm? I'm prescribing allllll the cuddles."
"That sounds lovely." Sun heard you murmur, and he took that as his cue, easily scooping you up and carrying you onto to the bed.
"Then cuddles you shall have!" He declared, playfully growling as he wrapped his arms around you and rolled onto to the bed. It warmed every last part of him to hear you shriek with laughter, swatting at him and making him giggle too. You really were precious to him and Moon.
And he wanted you to know that, too, so even throughout the movie, and the second, and the third, even after you had fallen into what seemed to be a very peaceful, deep sleep halfway through, Sun made sure to hold you close under the warm blankets, periodically whispering quiet assurances and letting the sound of your heartbeat lull him to a rare rest.
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Ok but like, what if MC's fandom starts to make ships with MC and the guys. Just think about the ship wars, the fancams, the fanarts, the absolute CHAOS when the brothers find out. It would be even worse if they start shipping MC with the undatables, one day everything is normal and the next day there are ship wars fighting over MC x Barbatos vs MC x Solomon (who are both very smug about it)
The MC's Fanclub are⌠Shippers?!
Perhaps⌠The italics blurb has been fulfilling its greater purpose all alongâŚ? Perhaps in its state of existential angst, it has in fact developed a plot of its own⌠An arc of introspection and self-discovery in which its own longing for purpose has forged a meaningful identity⌠It now has⌠a storyâŚ
Lucifer
As if they couldn't get any MORE frustratingâŚ
He's not an otaku. He's not a part of ship culture. He's not even sure why anyone would care about who dates who around this school, but apparently it's a big deal to some people...
He only became aware of their interest in him and the MC's relationship through some very⌠subtle cluesâŚ
Like the groups that would follow them around in the hallways with their phones out.
Or the multitude of fan rumors about their relationship that Satan spams him with from time to time just to irritate him.
"MC refused hug from Luci in halls today!! Are they bout breakup??? đĽş"
"Tots got pic of kiss today!! Relationship upgrade??"
"IS ARE MC+LUCIFER SECET LVRS?!? PLEASE RESPOND"
It only got worse after he found out the MC gets shipped out a looooootâŚ.
If he had to pick his least favorite ship, it'd be MC x Mammon. He can kind of see it with any of his other brothers (admittedly, Levi is also a little mystifying) but the idea of them ending up with Mammon makes his skin crawl...
He once found a drawing of the MC and Mammon in an⌠explicit position in one of the classrooms and he was so disgusted that he wouldnât even touch it. He just set fire to the paper outright. Disgusting...
Mammon
Shipping, eh� More money making opportunities!
Has some passing idea of what shipping is from Levi and, from what he knows of it, shippers eat cutesy couples stuff right up!! If all he's got to do to make bank is to look all couple-y around the MC then sounds like a win-win to him!
He'll happily pose for a photo or two (paid in advance) of him throwing his arm around the MC or something. Want him to hold their hand? Sure thing!
But since this is still Mammon we're talking about, the second MC actually starts getting into any of it he'll still turn into a blushy, stuttery mess...
For WEEKS the headline picture on so many of their fans' blogs was an image of him turning beet red while the MC kissed him on the cheek. (A fan really got their money's worth there... đ)
Though he doesnât exactly like the MC getting shipped with other people, he'll still totally sell pictures of any of them together. He almost paid off an entire credit card with the money he got from the t-shirt sales of the MC and Satan!
If he had to point to one ship he doesn't like it's either MC x Asmo or MC x Levi. His opinion, but Asmo won't treat them right and they could do waaay better than a shut-in. Like him. Ship the MC with just the Great Mammon, got it?
Leviathan
⌠Lowkey super active in the MC shipping community but is a self-shipper to the extreme.
Like, he never uses his real name on anything (and would probably die from embarrassment if anyone ever found out) but a lot of their fans probably know a couple of his aliases.
He does everything from mod forums, runs a couple blogs, even anonymously posts his own work of him and MC that are totally not his secret fantasy dates or AU versions of themselves, shaddup.
Itâs a lot easier for him to keep his involvement secret because heâs hardly at RAD, but the few times he does show up he tries to keep an eye out for anybody prowling for pictures so he can get in a good pose and save the image later.
Mind you, his version of a âgood poseâ rarely gets more spicy than linking pinkies, but even then heâs still lit up a Christmas Tree throughout.
Naturally, heâs also not a big fan of any ships that arenât just him and MC and he can find a reason to be jealous at almost anything. But he keeps a special corner of hate for MC x Mammon and MC x Diavolo. Like, the first one doesnât even need an explanation but MC x Diavolo?? Really??? Do those two even talk?? (please, please, please make sure they never actually talk because a guy like him versus literal royalty? Heâd lose MC for sureâŚ.!! đŤ)
Satan
He hates to actually agree with Lucifer on something, but their fans are starting to get out of hand...
Knows what shipping is in concept, he may have done it once or twice to characters in his books, but he was kind of surprised how it could evolve into such a⌠group activity?
He was pretty quick to pick up that the MCâs fans had a bit more interest in them together than they did when they both were apartâŚ
I mean, those hideous shirts that Mammon was pedaling were kind of a dead giveawayâŚ
Considering he finds their fanclub all rather annoying, even without their bizarre interest in his love life, when they started actively meddling with him and the MC he was ready to smash some heads.
No. He will not stop for pictures. No. What things they do together is none of your business. No. He has zero interest in seeing your explicit fanart and if you donât start running that will be the last question you ever ask.
He DOES, however, appreciate the cringy âannoy Luciferâ ammo. They could keep that up for a lifetime... đ
He doesnât have a least favorite ship because he doesnât care about any of this, leave him alone. (Thatâs a lie, itâs MC x Lucifer. He pokes fun at Lucifer, but he canât stand it either. Big shock, I know đ).
AsmodeusÂ
Oh he is shamelessly a part of the community, are you kidding??Â
He could practically call âShipping the MCâ one of his favorite pastimes. Heâll openly gossip with their fanclub about who theyâve been with, who theyâre seeing, whoâs got a chance, etc⌠He lives for this shit!
Heâs the only person who knows that Levi is also in the community and what his aliases are (not because he told him, but because Leviâs not as subtle as he thinks he is⌠Who else would call themselves âSupremeRuri666â and speak mostly in outdated chat lingo?) but he doesnât out him because he thinks his very obvious crush is kind of cute.Â
Plus, Levi needs the outlet waaaay more than himâŚ
Doesnât stop him from constantly trolling him and getting into arguments over who the MC would be better with though (the two are âvirtual nemesesâ as far as Levi is concerned).
Appreciates all forms of expression that comes out of the community (especially the saucy kind đ) and will happily feed into his own shippers without a care in the world.
Truthfully, Asmo will say that there isnât a ship he doesnât like but if someone mentions one that he thinks is kind of âeh,â heâll just add himself into the mix. âOh, you like MC x Barbatos? Well how about Asmo x MC x Barbatos? That sounds loads more interesting doesnât it??â
BeelzebubÂ
Oh, Beel⌠Sweet, sweet Beel⌠Beel doesnât even know what their club is doingâŚ
Because Beel has a reputation of being pretty protective of MC - and against the fanclub in general - the club keeps a healthy distance⌠but that doesnât mean theyâre not going to sneak in some picture or make a SHITLOAD of fanwork about them.
Between classes and practice Beel is a busy guy, so sometimes he just doesnât notice that thereâs people hiding behind trees when heâs out with MC.Â
Honestly, his complete ignorance of it all makes it even cuter because when he acts sweet, itâs not just for the camera. Thatâs the real deal.
Mammon was the one who eventually let it slip that there was even shipping happening and Beel was⌠kind of creeped out because isnât this stalking? But also kind of weirdly happy(?) that MC x Beel was so popular⌠Very conflicted boy here.
He never actually acknowledges the community, though, and just keeps on being Beel (which still gave the fans more than enough material so allâs well that ends well?)
Beel genuinely doesnât have a least favorite ship (because he believes the best ship is whoever makes the MC happy) but his second favorite under himself is probably MC x Belphie. They look very cute together... đ
BelphegorÂ
Ride or die, Beel x MC x Belphie.Â
Just kidding (kind of), Belphie isnât into the shipping but if asked heâd be pretty okay with that one.
His campaign against the MCâs fanclub and their attention stealing ways means that he found out about their shipping thing only slightly ahead of Beel when Mammon was trying to get pictures of them napping togetherâŚ
Honestly, he couldnât care less if a bunch of weirdos were weirdly invested in their relationship, but heâs not about to let Mammon just make a quick Grimm off of it. Belphie makes sure that he gives him NOTHING to work with.Â
Since Mammon is the main dealer, the shippers in both the MC fanclub and Belphie fanclub arenât nearly as well fed and pretty desperate for anything... You best believe he plays that to his advantage (because itâs okay if he does. Heâs not Mammon).
Really helps that MC x Belphie is legitimately a very cute looking couple, carried by Belphieâs cuteness alone if nothing else. Add an adorable MC and you reach levels so cute it could actually melt people into puddles of goo... They could be a registered weapon.
Least favorite MC ships are any that donât involve him or Beel. Any others may as well just not exist, he wonât even acknowledge them. MC x Who? Yeah, thatâs what he thought.
#i guess this is a series now#wasn't expecting that#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#obey me suggestions
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NXX Investigation Team with vaguely sentient houses in Western literature
//some spoilers ahead? for ToT but also for the works I am going to reference
Also, with some hindsight it's mildly amusing how Luke gets the happier one today and everyone else gets some level of angst
WC: 1.8K
MC/Rosa: Great-Uncle William's house from House of Many Ways by Diana Wynne Jones
"Then she said, "Now or nothing."" â Diana Wynne Jones, House of Many Ways
I wanted to start off fun with the house from House of Many Ways, because you never really know what to expect from this house
Sometimes it might grow a new room, and if you don't follow directions it's very easy to get lost
I mean, the house is not limited to space and time at all
And I am linking this to MC being always willing to try new things even if she fails: the birthday gloves, the disastrous fruit skewers, etc.
To add to that, the card stories essentially show her hanging out with each of the boys, who all have varying interests and skills and hobbies
I mean, one day Artem is teaching her how to use a gun, and then the next she's attending a pottery class with Vyn
This, I think, could reflect on the whimsical nature of the house and how MC's her schedule is so unpredictable
At this rate, she is very much becoming a jack of all trades (and good for her honestly, MC rocks)
But then we move on to less fun things
In the beginning of House of Many Ways, the protagonist arrives at the house because she needs to take care of it while her Great-Uncle is away
Which implies that this is a house that probably should not be left alone (for normal housekeeping purposes, but also potentially magical reasons as well)
And I am going to vaguely link this to MC's fear of people leaving her behind: her parents are still barely in contact with her due to confidential government things, and she completely lost contact with Luke for eight years
MC has very much learned to be self-sufficient, but I think she's still scared that the people she lets into her life will one day pack their bags and leave her again
Luke: Howl's Moving Castle (from Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones)
âI think we ought to live happily ever after.â â Diana Wynne Jones, Howlâs Moving Castle
To show his childhood friendship link with MC, Luke also gets a Diana Wynne Jones book
But he gets the famous moving castle, firstly because of the link with Howl: breaking a curse -- or in Luke's case, figuring out how to live beyond 27
Also, the castle is actually not as complicated as it first seems
In the beginning of the book, the interior of the castle is really just Howl's house in Porthaven
It seems intimidating on the outside, but the inside is really just a small but comfortable home
Cozy, if you will
It's a simple house with a fireplace and a bedroom and a bathroom and a door that opens to four locations of your choice
It's small, but it'll take care of you if you let it
Later, after Howl and Sophie move, the castle interior becomes a house in the main town (with flower shop and back garden included separately)
It just strikes me as a very "humble but comfortable" type of home, the place you would definitely want to return to after a long day
Marius: The Hotel Deucalion from Nevermoor: the Trials of Morrigan Crow by Jessica Townsend OR Manderley from Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
âThey are not brave, the days when we are twenty-one. They are full of little cowardices, little fears without foundation, and one is so easily bruised, so swiftly wounded, one falls to the first barbed word." â Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca
I propose the Hotel Deucalion for the genuinely fun, childlike side of Marius
Among other rooms, the hotel contains:
A fancy chandelier in the main lobby that grows back if it falls
Bedrooms that adjust to the guests' personal preferences the longer they stay there (and constantly changing size, shape, and furniture as well)
And a music parlor, art studio, and theater
But arguably, since it's a fairly recent publication, Nevermoor doesn't quite count as literature
So I present an alternative from popular literature: Manderley -- the Gothic manor, seemingly haunted by the memory of the late Rebecca de Winter
Because I argue that the von Hagens are also haunted by someone's memory: Mom von Hagen
I don't think Manderley itself is sentient, but the vibes are very Marius von Hagen
Manderley is a gorgeous manor, but it harbors dark secrets (e.g. how Rebecca died, what she meant to Maxim de Winter, who she really was as a person)
And that sort of reflects on how Marius' outward appearance and first impressions are generally very different to who he actually is as a person
I'm definitely not saying that the von Hagens are burying dark and scandalous secrets, but I am twisting the "house holds dark secrets" (de Winter) to "house still harbors a lot of grief" (von Hagen)
SSR 'All Through the Night' aside, we still haven't heard much about Marius and Giann's mom
But we do know that Marius holds himself guilty for her death (because, as he thinks, if he'd never been born she'd still be alive), and while unconfirmed, Austin and Giann are probably both still missing her in their own way
But you'd really have to get to know Marius in order to learn this
Marius is excellent at hiding behind a façade, so one has to take the time to know him in order to find out his fears and insecurities
And that is why he gets the beautiful manor that isn't quite what it seems at first glance
Vyn: The House of Usher (from "The Fall of the House of Usher" by Edgar Allan Poe)
"...my brain reeled as I saw the mighty walls rushing asunder â there was a long tumultuous shouting sound like the voice of a thousand waters â and the deep and dank tarn at my feet closed sullenly and silently over the fragments of the âHouse of Usher.â " â Edgar Allan Poe, "The Fall of the House of Usher"
Okay okay I'm going to get more excited about this because this is one of my favorite Poe stories
So essentially the House of Usher in the title actually has a double meaning: the very fancy family who go by the name of Usher (and who have been slowly dying out), and the actual house that they live in
So here we have Vyn, Vyn who is actual royalty
Vyn who has a very complicated relationship with Svart and the family and the home he left behind
Vyn who would, first of all, probably either feel frustrated, amused, or some combination of both over the last members of this long line of Ushers killing each other by accident (the brother thinks the sister is dead and unintentionally buries her alive, she comes back to get revenge on him but she falls on him and the fall kills them both)
But the part of the story I want to focus on is this: the house, this physical symbol of this family, collapsing over them once the line of Usher is completely erased
Essentially, the house and the family both die
And I think that Vyn would have mixed feelings about this
Because while I donât think Vyn wishes death upon his family -- heâs not that kind of person -- he has, on some level, deliberately cut ties with them
And I think there is potentially some level of catharsis to be found from the finality of the house's collapse: reflecting not the end of his biological family, but the end of his life in Svart
It's the physical collapse of the house that does it, because Vyn has also left a physical home, and he chooses not to let that home completely define him any longer
Much like the narrator in the short story, Vyn stands a distance away, watching as the house collapses in on itself
He's not going back there anymore -- or at least, he doesn't plan to -- but it'll always be a part of him
and last but not least, Artem: the house from "There Will Come Soft Rains" by Ray Bradbury
"The house stood alone in a city of rubble and ashes. This was the one house left standing." â Ray Bradbury, "There Will Come Soft Rains"
Okay okay okay
This house is peak Artem characterization if Artem was a house
The house is set up as this: the last standing smart home (it's set in the year 2026; the story was published around 1950), abandoned after the surrounding area was hit by a nuclear disaster
And even though the people who used to live in it are long gone, day by day, hour by hour, it continues doing what it is supposed to do
Each task is done at a specific time without fail: making meals, sending reminders, reading bedtime stories, etc. even when no one is there to eat, no one is there to listen, and no one is there to send to bed
The house never stops, it is always working working working
And this adds to the whole "Artem is a robot" comparison
The house is simply doing what it was made to do, it is trying its best, it doesn't know any better
When you read the short story, it's made clear how very methodical the house is; time is flowing by continuously and the house is always aware of it
To add to this, later in the story there is a fire, and the fire burns through the house, leaving behind only a single wall standing
But still, the house is trying:
"...a last voice said, over and over again and again... "Today is August 5, 2026, today is August 5, 2026, today is..." " (page 5)
Even when it is physically broken, it is still working, it must do its tasks, it must keep trying no matter what
And I think that sort of links back to Artem and purpose, where he thinks that he only has value because of his work and because of all the "perfect" things he's done
And how even though he thinks he has faults and struggles he's working through, he's still trying
Maybe he sees himself as broken, maybe he sees himself as malfunctional
But also, like the poem says:
"There will come soft rains"
Artem's got a character arc to go through and he is making excellent progress
Because he isn't a machine, he's human, with all the faults and flaws that come with being one
And to come back to the house comparison for a final moment: he is not an abandoned house (none of the five people in this list are!)
He has MC, Celestine and the law firm, and the rest of the NXX
And they will make sure that when a fire comes, he is left with more than just a single wall standing
Edited to include quotes :D
#tears of themis#luke pearce#artem wing#vyn richter#marius von hagen#mc | rosa#this took a bit of an emotional turn#I genuinely thought I was going to only talk about houses
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Hey, Lili! If itâs alright, can I ask for some familial autumn h/cs where Jean, Diluc, and Kokomi help a younger sister reader make candy apples please? Thank you!
request !! ŕłŕžŕż ËË-
â â req open at @lilikags (hq, genshin, e7) & @arlitem (tot)
â â jean, diluc, & kokomi w/ a younger sister!reader make candy apples
â â fluff, hcs, platonic
â â apologies for this being super late, I hope you donât mind. :0 ive been super busy and i hope it hasnât been too long >< pls enjoy !! also- I've never made candy apples so-
JEAN
-> Jean's really busy, but she hands off work to Kaeya for this occasion. She could never say no to you, and while she feels bad for making Kaeya do all the work, but you are more important.
-> She buys everything beforehand. She thinks of everything you could possibly add to the candy apples, and she buys them. Money is not an issue- she'll buy whatever you need to make you happy.
-> If you don't mind, she'll ask Barbara to come along! She loves her sisters and would love it if all three of you could make it.
-> Jean is the one making sure nothing goes wrong- go ham and have fun and don't worry about anything, she has it all under control.
-> Jean has procured a kamera, and she uses it for this special occasion. Pose with the candy apples and say cheese!
DILUC
-> He's also very busy, but he'll make time for you- probably an weekday afternoon when it's the quietest. He has someone buy the apples and the sugar if he doesn't have enough, and the two of you will talk until the ingredients arrive
-> He's really good at making candy apples; he'll help you if needed. He makes one but lets you mess around with the rest of them- he bought them for you, anyways.
-> It's really okay for you to be a little selfish around him, if he feels like you're holding back for any reason he'll start doubting himself.
-> The moment Kaeya walks in, the "violence-without-violence" mode turns on and the cavalry captain is swiftly turned away. End of story.
-> He'll eat them together with you, but if you don't finish, that's okay. He'll eat them himself later on, probably at night when he's working way past when he should be. It keeps him going a little longer.
KOKOMI
-> She's really happy! She'll take you around town to fetch some candy and apples and she'll talk with you all the way there. Though, when people crowd around her... she doesn't get visibly upset, but you could tell. She tells them to ask her later, but eventually, she'll get caught up in something she can't ignore and solves the problem quickly. She feels bad about it, please comfort her.
-> Once you're back home, the fun begins again! She makes jokes as you make the candy apples, but don't laugh too hard, else she'll get worried. Top priority is your health, as always.
-> She wants to eat it together! After dinner, of course- you can't forget to have a proper dinner. (She can't really really say anything though, for the amount of times she's straight up skipped) She'll take you to her favorite reading cave and you'll eat it there together under the tree right outside it, watching the stars at night.
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#genshin#genshin impact#jean#diluc#kokomi#jean imagines#diluc imagines#kokomi imagines#jean hcs#diluc hcs#kokomi hcs#jean headcanons#diluc headcanons#kokomi headcanons#genshin imagines
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Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 16
AO3
Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised
CW: this chapter delves a bit deeper into Alastair's head and can be a bit heavy
Previous Chapter: Chapter 15
Next Chapter: Chapter 17
Iâd hoped some of you had more sense. I thought you could be a voice of reason among them, Alastair. The words echoed in Alastairâs head, he should have known this was bound to happen. The Herondales thought he was a good person, capable, trustworthy, and they were wrong. They would have found out eventually, but it still stung. And heâd tried. Heâd wanted so badly to be what Will and Tessa believed he could be, but he couldnât. Because he wasnât a good person, he wasnât capable, he wasnât like Jem. He was awful and worthless and undeserving of their kindness.
Before dr. Gray could have said anything else, Alastair had left, gone to his bedroom. Years of practice to keep his expression blank, to never show that they get to you, it was all coming apart. He couldnât do this anymore. He was so tired of pretending to be something he was not.
He collapsed onto the bed and curled up as if to protect himself. He grabbed his stuffed hedgehog, tried to find comfort in it. He was often ashamed to keep his hedgehog when he was far too old to still be sleeping with stuffed animals, but heâd never had a childhood, heâd never felt safe and protected. When he held his hedgehog, he could at least pretend. It wasnât working. He felt so helpless, like everything was spiraling out of his control and he didnât know how to make it go away. He had always liked to pretend he was in control, by keeping everything neat and organized he was controlling what he could. But the truth was that nothing in his life was in his control and it never would be.
He was caught in a storm and there was nowhere he could find shelter, the only thing he could was endure. He wasnât sure how to do that either. At times like this Alastair feared it would always be like this and he would never get better. He wasnât even sure what was going on, there was just an overwhelming sense of helplessness, of perceived danger and being too small and weak to do anything to protect himself.
He heard someone knock on the door. Cordelia, perhaps. Or Thomas. They couldnât see him like this. They couldnât see just how worthless and awful and broken he was. Even around them, he was pretending, acting like he was fine as long as people didnât drink when he was around. Thomas deserved someone better than him, someone who could give him everything. Alastair was used to giving people he loved everything he could, and it had never been enough. He could not deny that he was the common factor there. Whatever love he had left was broken at its core, he could not love people enough and in return he did not deserve to be loved.
âAlastair, are you in there!â Cordelia yelled.
He wasnât sure which was worse, Cordelia seeing him like this or Thomas. At least Cordelia had seen him break down before. Once upon a time, anger had been his defense. When things became too much and he couldnât take it anymore, he would get angry. Heâd yell at people, or else heâd turn stone cold and hateful. Heâd hurt so many people with that, had so many regrets. Heâd learnt to stop doing that. Lately he didnât even know how to feel angry anymore. He often just felt empty inside, tired. Sometimes he didnât feel anything anymore, as if he wasnât even human. But that emptiness was still preferable to this, he thought, better than being overwhelmed by emotion, by a sudden sense of helplessness and a perceived danger he wasnât even sure wasnât there. Although perhaps when that helplessness went away and emptiness remained, heâd wish he could just feel something.
âLeave me alone, Cordelia!â Alastair yelled back, summoning the last bit of his old defensiveness.
âAlastair, can we come in?â
Thomas, his voice gentle, but Alastair could hear some anxiety in there as well. Thomas might like him, find him attractive even, but he was bound to find out Alastair couldnât be a good partner, couldnât fulfill his needs.
âPlease donât!â Alastair said. His voice broke. âJust⌠leave me, alright? You donât need me, you can find the selkie skin without me.â
âAlastair, Iâm going to sit out here, and when youâre ready, come open the door. Iâll wait all day if I have to.â
Alastair hadnât expected his sister to respect his request, heâd expected her to barge in, Thomas in tow, and drag him out of bed. He wasnât sure what to do now. He clutched his hedgehog against him. He didnât know what to do anymore. He couldnât save Thomas. Heâd disappointed Tessa. His memory wasnât enough. He wasnât enough.
Alastair had always thought he could accept that very few people loved him. He didnât like most other people much and preferred the safety of his own shell anyway. But he did long to be loved, even if he did not deserve it. Thomas was bound to find out soon enough, if he even survived. Alastair knew it would be his fault if they lost Thomas, because instead of working on saving him, he was here, broken down and useless. He never knew what to make of Will and Tessa, he suspected they had this idea of him that was more about his cousin Jem than about who he was. But Jem was extraordinary, and Alastair could never live up tot that.
He gave in to the overwhelming emotion and started crying. He tried to silence the sobs in his pillow, he didnât want anyone to know he was crying. It was pointless, he knew, but Alastair was still so ashamed of his emotions.
He wasnât sure how long he kept going. He cried until he couldnât anymore, and when he was finished he just felt empty. At least that sense of helplessness was away, even if what replaced it wasnât much better. Alastair dried his eyes and got out of bed, gently stroking his hedgehog before making his bed and carefully placing the hedgehog underneath his blanket.
He figured he might as well come out. At least now he could pretend things were fine, even if his eyes were still puffy and red. When he opened the door, both Cordelia and Thomas were sitting there, relieved to see the door finally open. How long had they been there, waiting for him? Why would they do that? Tessa was there too, and Alastair immediately regretted his decision to come out of his room and wanted to retreat.
âI truly am sorry, dr. Gray,â Alastair said, his voice small. He couldnât look her in the eye, but then Alastair had always struggled with eye contact. It had taken him years to figure out the appropriate times to make eye contact and force himself to do it. When he was too overwhelmed he just couldnât do it.
âNo, I am sorry,â Tessa said. âMy husband confessed he encouraged you to go into the woods. But even if he hadnât, I should not have singled you out like that.â
Alastair wasnât sure what to make of that apology. âWe should not have lied,â Alastair said.
He wanted to add an explanation of the selkies skin, but he felt he was still too overwhelmed to say more than a few words. He could pretend he still had this under control, that he still knew what he was doing and could save Thomas. He could pretend he wasnât dead and empty inside. He would do the best he could, because Thomas deserved to live. And if it cost him his life, maybe that was for the best.
Alastair wasnât suicidal, heâd never made concrete plans to end his own life, he only had the occasional thought of death. For some weird reason, that had gotten worse at first after leaving Father. Before, Alastair had no choice but to endure, because his mother and sister needed him. If he didnât protect them, who would? But after leaving, heâd sometimes feel like he had no purpose anymore. He no longer had to protect his mother and Cordelia, and although he was safe now too he never felt that way. At times he did feel he might be better off dead. That had improved about a month after starting his medication though, he rarely had these thoughts anymore.
âI trust you,â Tessa said. âCan I talk to you for a moment? Itâs alright if you prefer another time.â
Alastair nodded, still unable to meet Tessaâs eyes. He hoped he would be able to speak properly. On rare occasions, Alastair found himself unable to get the words through no matter how much he wanted to. It was something he hadnât found an explanation for, but there were times he was too overwhelmed to speak. Usually when he was upset, he got angry and said cold, cruel things he didnât mean. But when things got too bad and spiraled out of control sometimes he just couldnât get words out, something he once concealed by giving people his most hostile glare and walking away.
Tessa sat down in one of the arm chairs in his room, and Alastair sat down in the other, hoping heâd be able to actually have a conversation.
âIâm trying to figure out whatâs going on inside your head,â Tessa said. âI know what I said hurt you, and I should not have put that sort of responsibility on you. I admit Iâd thought that since you were careful, you might keep Lucie and the others out of trouble. But that isnât fair to you, and I want to make sure youâre alright.â
âItâs fine,â Alastair managed to say, glad to be able to get at least some words out. He didnât understand it, and it was fortunately a rare enough occurrence that he hadnât really tried to understand it. He figured it was just another thing that was broken about him, although this was something that had been present when he was a child as well.
âYou donât have to parent my daughter, Alastair. Nor Cordelia,â Tessa said. âThat is my responsibility as Lucieâs mother.â
âIâm not like Jem,â Alastair said.
It was not exactly a logical response to what Tessa said. There was so much more he wanted to say, but those were the words he could get out of his mouth, the thing he wanted to make clear. Because he knew Will and Tessa thought he was like Jem, and they had impossible expectations of him because of that.
âI know,â Tessa said. âIf anything, youâre more like Will. And Gideon. But most of all, youâre like you. And youâre enough, as you are. It is not weakness, that you are struggling, and we all want to do what we can to support you.â
Alastair could only nod in response.
âAnd if you want to go back into the woods, I wonât stop you. I know youâll make the right call, Alastair.â
She shouldnât trust him, she really shouldnât. But he knew he would only make this more difficult and uncomfortable if he said that, if he could even get the words past his lips. People often didnât understand the way he thought, and explaining his reasoning sometimes made him feel like he was crazy. He went downstairs with Thomas and Cordelia, who were still waiting outside the room.
Tessa groaned when she only saw her husband in the living room, nose stuck in a book. âWhere did Lucie go?â
âSheâs just in the garden,â Will said. âNothing to worry about.â
Alastair sat down on the couch next to Thomas and snuggled against him. He knew he didnât deserve this, he knew it wouldnât last, but he couldnât help but indulge in the moment. At least Thomas was here now. At least it was something. At least he could feel something good now with Thomas so close to him. And Charles had never done anything like this, had never held him and comforted him. He wondered how soon Thomas would get tired of this.
Cordelia went outside to find Lucie, and Will and Tessa disappeared too, Alastair wasnât sure where to. Theyâd be back soon enough, he guessed, and he was comfortable like this. Thomas was warm, and his strong arms were wrapped around him and kept him safe.
âIf thereâs anything you need, just tell me,â Thomas said. âIâm here for you, alright?â
Alastair just nodded, leaning into Thomas, placing Thomasâ arms in such a way that it was comforting and soothing. Lucieâs Lilo and Stitch blanket was next to him, and Alastair rubbed his hands over it, enjoying how soft it felt.
He didnât dare voice his concerns about Thomas. He expected Thomas to deny it. People always lied, and sometimes they even believed their own lies. He suspected Thomas would. Thomas was so sweet and kind and saw good in people when there was nothing. He probably believed this would work out and he could love Alastair enough to fix what was broken. But Alastair had enough experience to know love didnât fix anything.
âIâm serious,â Thomas said. âIâm not sure yet, how all this works, what you need, but I want to figure it out.â
Alastair kept rubbing his hand on the blanket, stroking it in a repetitive motion. He was feeling a little better, but so tired.
âIâm still figuring it out, too,â Alastair said, feeling like he had calmed enough to speak again. âThatâs why Iâm seeing a therapist. She helped me identify triggers and find better ways to cope with sudden flashbacks and fear than anger outbursts. I used to have those all the time.â
âI heard something from James,â Thomas admitted. âAbout a year ago. How you burst out against him and then Cordelia broke up with him.â
âHe must have been very upset,â Alastair said, guilt creeping over him.
âHe was,â Thomas said. âI think at the time he didnât understand why Cordelia had broken up with him. Lucie did though, she did the best she could to explain. But as James told it, you were so angry with him for no reason, and he was terrified. But Iâm thinking, that must have been because of your disorder, right?â
Alastair sighed. âPlease do not use my PTSD as an excuse for my behavior. I know Iâve said and done awful things, nothing excuses that. But yes, before I started therapy, I lashed out when I was upset. And that night, James and Cordelia were fighting over something. Iâm not sure what it was about, probably something silly, and Iâm guessing the fight itself must not have been so serious. But Iâd just come home from my ex, and when I heard them I thought he was hurting her. I thought she was in danger. So I got angry. It never got physical, by the way. People always think Iâm violent, because thatâs how they view Persian men, but Iâm not. Then James got angry too. And I understand. All he knew of me was the bastard Iâd been when we went to school together, and he thought I was a monster. He said he didnât understand why my sister still loved me, and when Cordelia asked him to leave, he at first refused to leave her alone with me, convinced Iâd hurt my own sister.â
Alastair was shaking, even if it had been over a year ago. And honestly, he couldnât blame James. He knew it was his fault, and he knew Jamesâ perception of him was influenced by how heâd treated James. It would have been a lot worse coming from someone he didnât have a past with. He knew that because of the way they looked, people expected Alastair to be violent and controlling and people expected Cordelia to be meek and submissive and in need of rescue from her family, or well, the Iranian part of her family. He knew many would assume his sister needed to be rescued from him, when heâd done everything he could to protect her.
âCordelia stepped in, and dragged James out before it got out of hand, and later I learnt thatâs when sheâd broken up with him.â
âItâs not so much an excuse as it is an explanation,â Thomas said. âWe can all grow and do better, and having a disorder is not an excuse to hurt people, but I know youâre doing the best you can and I feel it would be unfair to hold you to the same standards as someone who does not have PTSD.â
Alastair wasnât sure he agreed. More than anything, he wished he could be normal, he wished he could be in control and be good enough. He was doing the best he could, Thomas was right about that. But the best he could wasnât enough.
âBut if I cannot be held to the same standards, what about my father?â Alastair asked. âDoes that mean, because addiction is a disorder as well, he cannot be held to higher standards? Could I not have expected more of him?â
Thomas frowned. âI donât think itâs the same. As I said, having a disorder is not an excuse when you hurt someone. But you were very young when you did hurt people, and you stopped. You changed. Youâre going to therapy. Your father never did any of that, did he?â
âNo he didnât,â was all Alastair said.
When he was younger, heâd been foolish enough to believe his fatherâs promises. He would say heâd quit, that it wouldnât happen again, that heâd gotten better. But he never did. He wasnât sure he could explain the disappointment, of finding his father passed out with a bottle again after believing his promises.
âI think Iâm not explaining it well,â Thomas said. âIâm not sure⌠I know youâre sorry, for what you did, and that youâre trying to do better. But I think you lashing out because of your fear is not the same thing as someone else who is awful to people because they enjoy hurting others, or because they believe theyâre better than them. You still have the responsibility to do better, but itâs not the same.â
âIâve never wanted to hurt anyone,â Alastair said softly, tears in his eyes. âThatâs the thing, I always knew it was awful, I knew what I did to people. I knew how much it hurt and I never wanted to do that to someone else. But I did it anyway, because I couldnât take it anymore. At the time I thought those were my options, be bullied or become the bully. And I convinced myself, no matter what I did, it wasnât as bad as theyâd done to me. But that didnât matter.â
Alastair burst into tears. He tried to stop it, to control himself, but he couldnât. Part of him expected Thomas to let go of him, but he didnât and Alastair leaned into him even more, closing his eyes. He could feel comfortable like this. He could pretend he was safe and protected. Thomasâ strong arms made a better illusion of safety than a lifeless stuffed hedgehog, for sure.
It was difficult, when someone could see right through him. And he knew Thomas had always seen through him. Had Thomas made excuses for his behavior back then? Had he defended him from his friends? Thomas had said heâd always seen Alastair was very sad, had he suspected something was not right? Had he used that as an excuse for the awful things heâd done? It was sweet of Thomas, for sure. But he didnât want people to make excuses for him, he didnât want them to pretend it was fine. He knew he didnât deserve that.
âYou know, my father told me he was quite awful when he was in school,â Thomas said. âWhen he went to Spain, he realized what his father had taught him was wrong and he didnât want to be like that anymore. He deserved a second chance, and so do you. So far, youâre doing an amazing job.â
Alastair was tempted to shut Thomas down again. He wasnât doing a good job. Heâd tried to change, to be better, and at least he was no longer hurting others, but what use was it when he couldnât help them either, when the only alternative to hurting others was hurting himself? But he was curious too, how similar was he to Gideon Lightwood? Tessa had drawn the same comparison.
âI really canât picture your father as a school bully,â Alastair said, wiping at his eyes.
âMe neither,â Thomas admitted. âBut he believes everyone deserves a second chance, because where would he be if he hadnât been given one? And I find it really hard to believe what you said to me about my parents only liking you because of your power or because you want to save me. Thatâs not what theyâre like at all.â
Alastair wasnât sure how to explain that to Thomas. Perhaps he was making too many assumptions, but it just seemed unlikely anyone could like him for him as a person. People liking his power made much more sense. It was the only thing his father had liked about him, the only part of him heâd showed even an ounce of interest in. It was the only part Father hadnât deemed worthless.
âPerhaps youâre right,â was all Alastair said, mostly because he didnât know how to explain what he was really feeling and didnât want Thomas to worry.
Lucie and Cordelia returned inside, both their faces serious and Alastair suspected they were still concerned about the selkieâs skin. He had run out of ideas on how to enter that world by now. He sat up, but didnât quite move away from Thomas yet. It felt too good to be held like this, Thomasâ arms applying just the right amount of pressure to be soothing. He wanted to hold on to that feeling.
âOkay, so I have some news,â Lucie said. âGrace escaped from Tatiana again and came to deliver a message to me. She claims I am a witch and I can use dark magic to open a gateway.â
âDoesnât using dark magic require making a deal with something like the creature weâre trying to defeat?â Thomas asked.
âAccording to Grace, not when youâre a witch. But thatâs very uncommon, apparently. And she thinks my seeing ghosts is a sign Iâm a witch. Problem is, I have no clue how to do any of the things she claims I can do. What do you know about witches?â
âAll I know is, sometimes people are born with certain powers, like my memory, but as far as I know all such powers are rare and no one understands why it happens,â Alastair said. âSince sheâs not human, maybe she knows more.â
âThere was an evil witch a few centuries back who was defeated by your and Cordeliaâs ancestor,â Lucie said. âAnd then she turned into a mermaid, which is how Grace knew about her.â
âSome of our ancestors did keep journals, in an attempt to improve our knowledge of the supernatural,â Alastair said. âOf course, those are full of contradictions, and sometimes racist assumptions about creatures that arenât evil or dangerous, but protected indigenous cultures from colonizers. But a story about a witch would likely be documented.â
âCan we see these journals?â Lucie asked. âIâm guessing your ancestor didnât know much about how she did it, but he must have known what she used to fight him.â
Alastair shook his head. âMy father has them.â
Alastair couldnât face his father, he wasnât sure if heâd ever be ready, even if needed to. He felt tired and empty now where he was somewhat safe, but he suspected heâd fall apart if he had to confront his father. He definitely didnât want Cordelia to have to talk to him. For a long time, sheâd idolized him, but now that she knew the truth, and knew how it had affected him, she was angry.
âYour father could ask for them,â Thomas suggested to Lucie. âWill has known him for some time. Or perhaps he can ask uncle Jem to talk to Elias.â
Alastair wasnât sure his father would listen. He wasnât sure what to think, what to expect from his father now. He hadnât seen him since he left, not outside his memories and nightmares. He didnât know what his father was up to, and he didnât want to know. All he knew was, Jem was still trying, Jem never gave up on anyone. But Alastair had given up a long time ago.
#Alastair Carstairs#Thomas Lightwood#Lucie Herondale#Cordelia Carstairs#Thomastair#Lucelia#the last hours#tlh#fanfiction
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