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greeniegirl23 · 3 days ago

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Isn't It.. Lovely? (Chapter 3#)

One month.

You had one month to make the biggest decision you'd ever make in your life. Part of you wondered why you didn't tell Alastor to have a field day with your Father's corpse, until you remembered that the other part of you still loved and cared for him.

He was still your Dad and once upon a time he was a very good Dad. Your parents were practically a power couple when your Mom was alive, after her death, depression fell on him like a bag of bricks. Leading him to find feeling again in glasses of wine and bottles of hard liquor.

Everyday you pondered on this, wondering if something would finally push you over the edge. If you'd snap and take revenge for yourself.

You didn't like having those thoughts. Yes, the idea of liberty made you feel elated but at the cost of the last family member you had? It was conflicting to say the least.

All that worrying came to a halt once Alastor began to solidify his place in your life.

Every night at 9pm sharp, when you were dressed for bed and your despicable abuser was asleep. Alastor used his powers to turn your radio into your own personal hotline. He was ever so happy to hear from you, happiest when he saw nor heard any traces of harm inflicted on you that day.

He soon found out that you were a curious one and a terrible over-sharer. It was obvious you never really had friends before and if you did, they left you behind long ago. You were as innocent and pure as the driven snow. Always asking questions about him, about Hell, and what it was like back when he was on Earth.

You loved when he told you more about his life. It was like he was reading you your own personal bedtime stories. Tales of speakeasies and the depression, parties that lasted from dusk to dawn, and of course, all of the completely justified crimes he committed before his demise.

As payment for his stories, you told him about your own and caught him up on modern day issues. He seemed especially interested in World War I, disappointed that he died a few years shy of when it started. You told him about your health science classes, your school, and he even became a good study buddy to help you out with your tests.

“Alright darling, last question.” He stated, a drum roll playing in the background. “If your patient performs a forward lunge, which plane of the body are they moving in?”

You chewed on the end of your pencil. “..Coronal?”

A bell dinging made you smile. “Correct! Well done darling, but I'd like for you to work on your confidence when you answer. No one wants a doctor that's unsure of what they're doing.”

“Yeah..I just get so unsure sometimes. I think I'm more scared of being wrong than being right.”

He chuckled. “Do not fret my dear! I've been doing these little pop quizzes with you long enough to know you have a sharp mind. Confidence is a tool that will solidify your place in the career you plan to pursue, so don't be afraid to utilize it more.” His voice was so kind and mentoirish. It felt like he was giving you life lessons almost every time he talked.

On one hand that made you embarrassed. Like these were things you should have already known but you didn't, but you decided to give yourself some grace. Life was different for you than everyone else, so obviously there would be some things you didn't experience to gain knowledge from.

You placed your pencil down and sat cross legged in your chair. Not being the type of person who could sit still, nor do things normally. “Is that how you become a radio host? Because you were super confident?”

There was a pause. “Well, it was something that helped. Being a professional at what I do required more than just believing in myself. Most people think it's easy, but it has its challenges. For example, I used to rehearse my script in the mirror to stop myself from unconsciously going ‘umm’ every 10-30 seconds. It also aided in preventing myself from fumbling my words.”

“That sounds like solid advice.” You smiled. “I should start keeping a journal when you're around and call it ‘Life Lessons As Taught By The Radio Demon.’”

A loud cackling broke out over the radio. “Ah, so the girl does have a sense of humor. A good one at that!” He said proudly. “And here I thought you were all doom and gloom.”

“Hey! I'll have you know staying positive at all times can be very exhausting.” You huffed, placing your hands on your hips in a pouty attitude. “It's really hard to smile when it feels like the world is against you...”

There was a stagnant silence in the air as you turned your head to gaze out the window, watching the rain drizzle from the grey sky. It was your favorite weather, even more so because of the friend it allowed you to find.

Alastor pondered over your words before he took a deep breath. “That leads to a question that I've been meaning to ask you for some time now. It's a rather sensitive one so if you'd prefer not to answer, I would understand.”

Giving the plushie your attention, Alastor's tone turned concerned as he asked. “I can’t help but wonder, Darling, where is your mother..?”

Without missing a beat, you replied. “Oh, my Dad murdered her.”

A sharp microphone screech omitted from the radio. It was safe to say he most definitely was not expecting that..

Not because he can't see your degenerate of a guardian doing something of the sort, he was actually more curious as to how someone as sloppy as your Dad could get away with something like that. No. What got him was even though you were saying words that no child should ever say until they're well into adulthood, you smiled. A soft one, filled with unspeakable pain and a lust for something you could not yet gain.

You could feel him hesitating to ask you some more questions on the topic, so you decided that you could quickly give him your life story. “Whenever anyone asks about it, I always tell them that she passed from cancer but, that's not true..”

Alastor’s signal chirped in curiosity, but he made sure to sound sympathetic. “What happened?..”

You chuckled a bitter melody.

“She was born a diabetic and I was around twelve.. Everyday my Mom took her medicine, the diabetes is actually what led her to becoming a doctor in the first place. Every morning my Dad would make her coffee, as a way of telling her he loved her. I snuck a few sips before only to find out she made it black, when she caught me she told me “Mommy can't have sugar…”

When I turned fourteen, they started arguing. A lot. I can remember hearing them sometimes. Mom threatened to leave him because he was starting to grow a gambling issue and she was tired of taking the brunt of most of the bills. He promised to change and that's when everything started to go downhill.. Weeks went by, she just started getting sicker and sicker seemingly out of nowhere. Still had her morning coffee though. I'd make it for her sometimes and she reminded me “Mommy can't have sugar.” Hardly able to do anything for herself, much less take her medicine. Of course he said he'd do it, he promised me he did when he took me to school..He still made her coffee, before he went to work and after she had been made bed bound..I thought it was a lie, that it wasn't true until I realized that she died that morning with a cup of coffee in her hand..”

A sour laugh left your lips, as you recalled that day you came home from school and found her lying there with blood on the pillow, blood that she had been coughing up for almost a month.

“That bastard was poisoning her with fucking sugar… Everyday he was putting a little bit in her morning coffee and not giving her the insulin she needed. She was a Type 1 diabetic and he did all of it for some fuckin insurance money..” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Before yanking it in frustration and punching your fist through the nearest wall, your face was blank and unmoving for a second not even flinching as you removed your bruised fist from the drywall. “Mama couldn't have sugar..”

Alastor listened as you explained your mother's demise. His distaste for your father grew more and more as he recalled memories of his own childhood. He'd never tell you to your face, but he could see parts of himself in you from his younger years, if lead in the proper manner, you could become quite the promising killer.

He shook his head. Not the best thoughts to be having right now, not while you're on the edge of a mental breakdown.

“I..Would be lying to you if I said I knew what to tell you about such an awful situation..” He stated hesitantly. “But I can say that I am sorry, that you had to deal with something like this so early in life.”

“Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be done about it…She's gone now and I have to get away from him.” You declared, looking at your now bruised hand. “Now you understand why I made that wish. On any day, at any time, for any reason, that man could decide to kill me. To kill his own daughter in cold blood..”

Alastor hummed. “If you know this, then let me help you." He demanded. "I cannot sit idly by forever my dear, these links to your world are only good for short times to prevent other demons from causing other problems. No one understands the severity of this situation more than you. I would love to help you exact revenge on that putrid sack of skin but you must choose before it is too late and I am no longer around..

You sat in silence as Alastor did his best to help you come to a decision. As much as you hated being rushed, you couldn't deny that he was correct. But the decision was hard, harder than you thought it would be considering the fact that you still loved your father and the man he used to be…

All these thoughts ran through your head on a daily basis, everytime they made you wanna curl up and cry. Snatching up the plush doll, you gave it a good squeeze and hid your face in your knees, wishing that your Mom was still around.

The Radio Demon pursed his lips in thought, he wasn't good with others emotions unless he could feed off of the entertainment from it, much less comforting them. There was nothing entertaining about this, about you being sad. He didn't like it for a reason he couldn't explain, perhaps because you were so bubbly in the beginning?

You weren't trying to do anything miraculous, you just wanted to live your life in peace and possibly get justice for your mother. That was something he could understand. He wouldn't mind completely decimating your Dad, truly he wouldn't! It'd be on the house for you, truly you're the most pitiful soul he's come across in a long while.

He supposed he could pull a few quick strings to make you feel better in the moment. To bring back that smile of yours, full of wonder and a desire for life.

As you continued to seek shelter in your knees, you felt a gentle touch caress the top of your head, sharp claws softly scraping your scalp in an attempt to comfort you.

Wait..

WHAT?!

Quickly yet carefully, you snapped your head up to see none other than The Radio Demon crouched down right in front of you. His hand still rested on the crown of the head as you both stared at each other for a moment.

“I'm sorry.. am I dreaming?” You blurted out.

Alastor smiled, laughing in a low tone at your completely gobsmacked expression. “Fortunately for you, the answer is no my dear. As a gentleman, it'd be rude of me not to at least attempt to help a lady in emotional distress.”

You were still dazed and confused about him being here, much less t o u c h i n g you!! “Ida..I-- I didn't know you could-”

“Travel through the radio? It is quite possible but I only do so on rare occasions since it requires a fair bit of my power that cannot be overexerted in one day.”

Standing up to his full height, you realized how tall he was and thanked God that the ceiling was high enough for his antlers not to scrape. Crawling out of your chair, you immediately felt like an ant compared to him, the top of your head barely came to his collarbone.

“Holy crap you're tall." You blurted again. "I mean, I knew that you were tall but, you're really, really tall..”

Smirking with pride, he twirled his cane expertly like the show off you knew and loved. “7”0 exactly my dear, a foot taller than I was when I was a mortal! Though I suppose that was the universes funny way of punishing me for my crimes, I've bumped my forehead on door frames a good 50 times in both life and death!”

As you examined his real life appearance, you couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah well, the heels don't help.” You pointed to his shoes.

He huffed in feigned offense. “They are not heels, darling they are tap dancing shoes and it was quite common for them to have a bit of height back in my day.”

“Okay, Fred Astare.” You snorted as he settled himself on the side of your bed as you marveled at the fact that he was still taller than you even while sitting down. “And here I was preparing to offer you a dance in hopes of lifting your spirits, only for you to insult my tastes in fashion.” He hmphed, crossing his arms and legs while sticking up his pointy nose towards you.

In a daring moment, you sat right next to him crissed crossed, careful not to to touch him while he continued to play offended. “C’mon Al, don't be so huffy. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“ ‘Al’ huh?” He hummed. “Sounds like someone is getting rather familiar.”

“Hey, you call me 'Darling' and 'Dear' so often I think that it's only fair that I call you 'Al' on occasions.”

“I suppose you have a point. Nevertheless, I came here to try and boost your spirits, you seem to be doing better so if you wish to be bratty I can just go back home..” He teased with an evil grin.

“Wait!” You said just a bit too loudly. “Would you like to play a game with me? Ya know, before you go..”

Alastor raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he parted his lips to deny your offer, until you pulled out the big guns and gave him your best puppy girl eyes. A chill went down his spine from your usage of such cheap tactics, remembering his years as a lad and doing the exact same thing when he wanted something desperately from his dear mother.

“Okay! Okay!” He said, placing his hands up in surrender. “I shall subject myself to whatever game this is for one round, as long as you stop making that revolting expression..”

He watched as you smiled with pure enthusiasm. Such a beautiful smile you had, it made him irritated that you didn't do it more, yet proud that he typically was the source of it sprouting in the first place. Crimson eyes followed your movements as you shuffled off the bed to grab a small deck of cards off of your shelf. A part of him hoped you heard the chuckle that left his lips while you struggled to stand on your toes to retrieve this game.

“It's called ‘Uno’ “ You explained, walking back to him with a red box in hand. “It's a pretty simple game and the rules are easy.” Dumping the cards out of the box, the two of you sat parallel with one another.

”However, this simple game has been known to end more friendships than Monopoly and Mario Kart put together. It shall truly test our bond as companions, only the strongest survive it's trials..” You spoke in a dramatic tone while shuffling the cards and placing the proper numbers out for the both of you. Once you were finished, you placed the extra cards in the middle and looked the Radio Demon square in the eye. “Are you ready?”

“Yes yes,” He replied aloofly. “There isn't any possible way this silly game could cause such a staggering amount of broken relationships. I refuse to believe it's that bad.’

You chuckled bitterly. “You beautiful unsuspecting fool.”

---------------------- ( 2 Hours Later) ---------------------

“That's against the rules!” Alastor hissed underneath his breath as you threw out a fat stack of +2 cards.

“No it's not Alastor, you said you wanted to play stacks and this is how it's played.” You muttered.

The first round between you two consisted of showing Alastor the ropes. The confident man he was, he assured you that the game was easy enough for an infant to play and win effortlessly, especially since he won the first round. You then decide to spice things up by teaching him how to play stacks. He claimed that was easy as well and you allowed him to believe this as the next round consisted of him losing, and so did the next round, and the round after that, and the round after that…

Before you knew it, two hours had gone by and Alastor was determined to beat you at least once. It had gotten so intense that he resorted to taking his tail coat off and even putting his hair up, leaving him in his tight red office shirt and hair that framed his face like the scrumdiddlyumptious being that he was. The sight of his bare arms totally didn't have you blushing up a storm behind your cards.

While he was stewing over his next move, you got to confirm a few fan theories and ogled at his appearance.

Respectfully, of course.

But, the game wasn't over yet. Alastor sat across from you, irritated and with at least eleven cards in his hand, while you had three. The air was tense as he scratched his head and finally decided to throw out a small handful of 8’s, bringing his card count down to five.

Your poker face remained unmoving as you calmly threw out a wild card. “Blue.”

A warble of interference omitted from Alastor's person as his eyes scanned his cards carefully. You were actually surprised at how the tables had turned personality wise. In the beginning, it was Alastor who was calm and collected, but every loss slowly chipped away at the pride that fueled his unwavering persona. His usual smile was now looking more forced, making his disdain obvious.

Throwing out a blue card, you threw out two on top, leaving you with one card as you stated that dreadful word. “Uno.”

With a growl, Alastor tossed out a draw +4. “Red.” He stated blandly. A quick glance at the clock let him know he was late for a meeting with Charlie, but formalities be damned because he was going to win this game.

You took your cards quickly and deemed your hand an amazing one. He replied by tossing out a 2 and leaving three cards left. Victory was close and he swore that once he won he would ‘kindly’ rub it in your face.

But, just as you had been doing for these past five rounds, you had an ace up your sleeve. You tossed out the red ‘Skip’ card, costing Alastor a vital turn that could have turned the tables, only to metaphorically slap him in the face by cheering “Uno!” and dropping your final cards in the middle of the messy deck.

He suppressed a scream of irritation as you did your little victory dance, glaring at you both with gaiety and pure spite. He stood up and snapped his coat back on and his hair back down, he pinched your cheek just a little too hard. “That's enough cutting a rug darling, especially for someone that has two left feet such as yourself.”

“Stop trying to cease my dancing, I must wiggle out my joy.”

With a roll of his eyes, he tuned the radio on to his station to prepare to go back home. “Well you can dance until your heart's content, unfortunately I have to return back home to handle some business.”

Immediately your uncoordinated movements stopped, as you frowned. “Oh, right..”

Part of him felt bad. Not that he would tell you outright, but he didn't exactly want to leave you behind either. The thoughts of what your father could do unannounced made him concerned for your safety, but there wasn't anything he could do. Instead, he smiled genuinely and lifted your gaze up with his finger.

“Chin up, dearest. I shall check on you tomorrow as always and don't forget, you still need to make up your mind about what you want from the options presented to you.”

You didn't reply verbally, but you did nod your head sadly which would have to be enough for now. As he prepared to walk off, he was suddenly stopped by a tight embrace from behind. Anyone else who would have ever dared to think of such a thing would have been a splatter on the wall and he was just about to give you a kind yet serious talk about personal space until he felt something wet soaking through his clothes.

“..Thank you.” You mumbled through the fabric. Inhaling his scent as you sniffled and tried to calm down, honestly you were surprised he didn't push you off.

As mentioned before, emotions were not Alastor's think nor was physical affection. However in this moment, with you crying lightly and hugging him as if he were your only hope of survival, he decided that maybe, just this once, he would let it slide.

For his comfort, you didn't allow the hug to last longer than a minute. Once you pulled away you were embarrassed to say the least and prepared for him to possibly scold or never talk to you again. But, to your surprise, he simply pat your head and whispered, “Sleep tight, cher.”and was gone with a blink of your eyes.

To say you were sad was an understatement, but you knew that he'd be back tomorrow like he was everyday. The idea of talking to him tomorrow. To hear his voice in real time, talking to you and to offer comfort because he actually cared made your heart pound in your chest. As much as you didn't want to think this way, you couldn't help it. He seemed so concerned about you, in a way that no one else has until now.

You did your best to still your beating heart as you began to clean up your fun from earlier, only to find your cards were missing. You looked everywhere and still couldn't find them, ultimately you claimed into bed and decided that maybe Alastor snapped them somewhere you'd never find so that he wouldn't have to loose, I mean, play anymore.

Meanwhile…

“Alastor you're late!” Vaggie snapped as he came waltzing down the stairs, following her to where the rest of the group sat waiting.

“I am aware Vagatha, I was busy doing something else.” He replied calmly, only to make the fallen angel more irritated. “Whatever, I hope you brought something because it's your turn for a group activity today..”

“But of course! How could I forget?” He smiled impishly, before pulling out a red box with a familiar word on it. Once with the rest of the residents, Alastor clapped his hands together and pulled out a chalkboard seemingly out of nowhere.

“For today's activity being hosted by yours truly, we shall all be playing a game suited for bonding and the strengthening of relationships,” He beamed, writing out the title of the game in big letters for everyone to see.

“The name of the game is...UNO!"

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(Thank you for coming back for Chapter 3# of this story! I hope you stick around for the next one because I plan to make it the last. I've been so busy with life and stuff, it's kinda hard to find time or motivation to write, but I do want this to come to a close while still making room for a bit of fun between Al and the Reader.

For those who asked me to make a tag list, I'm not entirely sure how to 😅. Though I will try to figure it out for the next time I write a short story. Don't forget to leave your opinions behind in the comments and thank you for all the love you guys give me, it means a lot ��

Stay Tuned! :D

Taglist: @twistedvanillacoffee @diffidentphantom @boldlyenchantingfox22

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #drabbles #alastor the radio demon #fanfic

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loveandlegacy · 3 days ago

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im going to say something slightly mean which is that i think there is an imagined aspect of jayce and viktor's relationship that the audience is projecting onto them that actually is not supported by the text itself and that imagined facet is the reason people think their parting is rushed more than the issues with the actual show's pacing 💀

like i do think some of what jayce actually SAYS in that scene feels kind of clunky and unearned and sorta tropey, not because of who jayce is, but because it feels like they had to cut some interstitial tissue for the sake of time constraints, but even if they hadn't had to i cannot fathom that scene being extended more than like....a minute. like what kind of argument are they going to have that wasn't the one that actually transpired?

i think it's pointed that viktor is weirdly emotionally stunted and icy after he was such an impassioned person in s1 and he said everything there was to say anyway, just with a colder affect. i guess jayce could have said "hey viktor wait" like. one more time lol but in general if you take everything we have presented by the text on its face their immediate falling out could never have been that long a conversation because there isn't actually that much to argue about. jayce did what he thought was right and what is the normal human thing to do (broke his promise to save his friend that he loves and cares about) and viktor did not want him to do that. which is literally what they said to each other. very directly.

also it's like...supposed to be cold and sad. i don't think viktor is going to be the sole big bad of the show but i do think that the whole point of what we've seen so far in act i is that the arcane is inhuman and strange and kind of hard to understand and viktor has been partly absorbed into that and jayce is still very very human and full of all his hopes and ideals and therefore not able to grasp the arcane's true nature yet. a like. screaming lover's spat or whatever was not going to happen given the narrative positions that these two characters occupy. it doesn't even happen really between the two characters who are actually lovers — cait and vi have an somewhat equivalently long (so pretty short) moment of disagreement before cait hits vi in the stomach and leaves. anything else would have felt like fanfictiony and cheap imo

#and it's not like this is the one and only time they're ever going to talk???? like pls they will REVISIT this disagreement #jayce #viktor #s2 spoilers

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witchthewriter · 20 hours ago

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𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫��𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 🐦‍⬛

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I've added Victor into this, but I want to have a conversation about if he can be a romantic partner - or he will always be platonic?

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

You're still in Fromville, not having escaped yet but making the best of it.

𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒅 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Domesticity to Boyd is so much different in this town compared to the 'real' world.

・For example, he would be awake before you, no matter the day just so he could surprise you with your favourite drink and a pastry each morning.

・The chores would be split 50/50, with Boyd usually picking up any slack (he doesn't mind at all)

・He loves doing the laundry, folding your clothes with so much care.

・But here... his actions to show his love are limited and it kinda pisses him off

・But you constantly remind him of all the good he's done here and how he keeps everyone together.

・You celebrate every win, even the small ones.

・Boyd is big on DIY, and loves fixing up things for you. Anything you ask - you want a different type of curtain, or you want part of the window patched up - he does NOT let you do it. That is HIS job.

・Massaging his shoulders at night, feeling how taught he is. This town is so hard on him. It constantly makes you wonder, why him?

・You do have one rule though: last one in bed has to make it!

・Boyd seems like the type of person to keep everything about himself to himself. But that isn't true. He likes telling you things, he enjoys opening up to you.

・One really important factor in your relationship is the challenges of town and its mysteries.

・Many people in town were basically betting how long you two would together.

・But what they didn't know, was that the horrors STRENGTHENED your bond. It made you both rely on each other so deeply.

・Having a partner means so much to him.

・Boyd loves you so much. He would never burden you with what he knows, but he loves when you have random conversations.

・It makes things feel just a bit more normal. It gives him hope.

𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒚 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Mornings and nights are especially special to you both

・Slow, careful, mindful, warm and cosy.

・Touching each other in some way - hugging each other from behind, pinkies entwined, cheek kisses, forehead kisses, rubbing noses together - if anyone else saw you too they would gag (ITS CALLED LOVE)

・Kenny LOVES tucking you in at night.

"You comfy now?" As he wedges the blanket under the side of your body.

"Yes Kenny! Now get in bed you loser!" You answer laughing.

"Okay, okay, I'm just looking after the most important person in my life thank you very much."

・You love listening to him; to his stories about his childhood up until he came to town.

・One of Kenny's favourite things is when you read to him. Even if you don't have a book in front of you, he just wants you to recount as much as you can from books you have read.

・Might be kind of painful, but you two like talking about how life would be like together outside of this hell.

・Owning two cats, two dogs, maybe some fish.

・Whenever you hear the creatures screeching, you automatically cling to Kenny, you can't help it. You HATE the noises.

・But you always feel safe around Kenny. Always.

"I've got you. I swear to god I'll never let anything happen to you."

𝑱𝒂𝒅𝒆 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Every morning he gives you a kiss on the head and 'tip toes' out of the room, trying not to disturb you.

・You usually yell at him to get back in bed

"My looooooove, I have important business to attend to!"

・The bed is pressed up against the wall, and Jade says if someone/something were to enter the room, he would be the first thing they see

・From then he starts his daily ritual of figuring out how to get the hell home

・Jade teaches you A LOT of stuff. And you're always surprised by how well he does at teaching. He's patient (only with you but you don't know that), and takes his time to teach in ways you'll understand (once again, only for you...)

・He is like a walking computer at times. Really good with dates and great with measurements.

・But one thing he is terrible about is the fact that he's a repeat offender blanket stealer. Absolute criminal.

・No matter how much you tug and pull, or wrap yourself in it, Jade somehow unravels you in his sleep and takes the blanket.

・When you both wake up, you've practically snuggled underneath him...

"Babe, what are you doing?"

"You stole the blanket again and I got cold," you reply muffled beneath him. He's very warm.

"Oh god, sorry! We ah, we should probably get more blankets then... god why didn't you wake me?"

"Wake you? Ever since we got our own place, you've slept like you've never done so in your life!"

・It was quiet before he replied, and then he wrapped his arms around you.

"That's because I haven't sleep properly before I met you."

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒍 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Your relationship with Randall is one that surprises you. Constantly.

・People don't see him the way you do. At times they start to though.

・But only you get to see his true soft side. The side that moves the hair from your face, kisses your forehead, nudges his nose against your own.

・You are the ONLY person to make him laugh.

・He knows so much about you - the way you like your clothes folded or hung up. He knows which books are your favourite, which song you could listen to on replay.

・Music is a big thing to Randall, and the fact that he can't just randomly play something on his phone gets him really down.

・So one night you guys make a list of every song you like, when you heard it and what it made you feel

・Making each other guess who you were before arriving in hell.

"Hmm... you were ... a ... farmhand on a ranch..."

"What the fuck Y/N."

"What? Were you?"

"Oh yeah sure, you hit the nail straight on the head sweetcheeks," and then he rolled his eyes.

・You laugh, loving when he gets 'annoyed' (you know he can never really be annoyed with you right?)

・You know each other's favourite tv shows, colours, smells, literature and so on. You whisper to each other through the night, trying to take your mind off of the screeching coming from outside.

𝑬𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Always the last to get up, sometimes he wakes before you but he'll still lay in bed, watching you sleep. Sometimes blowing air on your face when it's been a few hours and he gets bored

・Leaving sweet notes in unexpected places, they range from:

'hey baby, went down to do some work in the greenhouse, love you xx' to 'yo sexy honey see you tonight ;)'

・And you keep every single one of them. You have a sort of time capsule thing underneath the bed in one of your bags. Just small photos, letters written to each other, etc.

・Side note - Ellis is a cheeky man who loves to rile you up. Push your buttons. Make you red in the face.

・But he knows when enough is enough; he's extremely intune with your moods and doesn't have to ask when the days get too much.

・LOVES MAKING UP RANDOM SONGS ABOUT YOU, they are terrible but they make you laugh

・CONSTANTLY setting up spontaneous things for you guys to do. Seeing a smile on your face is the best thing he has ever seen.

・Literally puppy love.

・You guys seem to be able to talk to each other mind to mind. Glances from across the room are easily read by one another.

𝑽𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

PSA: As I said above, I'm not sure if Victor can be a romantic partner - I would love everyone's thoughts on it and maybe we can come to some kind of agreement??? Anyway, read this how you like ⟡☾⚝☽⟡

・Home...this town is the only home that Victor had ever truly known.

・How could you show him that the way he'd been living was not normal? That he should be able to feel safe, he should have gone to school - maybe even his drawing could have evolved into something astonishing

・So, in little ways you introduce this life to him

・He can't remember his birthday (so you help him choose one) and the two of you, along with Ethan, Tabitha and Julie celebrate

・...home decor projects are mostly just Victor's drawings. The really scary ones, you ask to be put away and he obliges <3

・Victor is used to living with other being, but not sleeping in the same room as another person.

・You would also need to get used to his blatant honesty. It isn't like he's trying to hurt you but he can just be brutally honest.

・Picnics in your room where you scavenge whatever food you can and talk about the funniest things you've seen people do

"I saw Jim ... trip over today," Victor says in a hushed voice, a cookie halfway to his mouth.

You burst out laughing, even snorting as you imagine the uppity Jim Matthews take a tumble.

"God, I wish I saw that."

・At first Victor didn't want another friend. He didn't want to get close to someone, he knew something would happen to you. You'd be taken away from him.

・But you swore to him that you would always be there for him.

・In town, and when everyone leaves. You've told him that you can be his home, his family.

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sunnydayaoe · 1 day ago

Text

{This isn't Normal}

[CCCC FIC] Contains: Platonic Soul and Mind [~6,000 words]

CW // attempt at romance [no actual romance], uncomfortable kissing [they figure out they don't like kissing and talk it out]

As if sensing the fact it was thinking of him, Mind tightened his arms in his sleep. Usually the robot tried not to be so grabby, but in its sleep it seemed to have no such reservations. It was almost cute, like every daydream Harmonia had ever had about a partner. Soft and domestic, downright cozy. {The idea of Mind in that dream made him want to puke.} - Or, Soul VS. Amatonormativity; considerations on what friends should act like

Fic under cut! or on AO3

{This wasn’t Normal}

The sun was freezing cold, leeching any warmth he had like the parasite he’d always claimed they were. Somehow, he couldn’t summon any of the vitriol that would have accompanied that thought mere weeks ago. His Mind, comfortable and healthy and There in his arms. It almost felt like blasphemy to feel the moment could be perfect, if he let it.

As if sensing the fact it was thinking of him, Mind tightened his arms in his sleep. Their legs were already tangled, its hooked around his, and its arms were twined around his waist, but it still tried to worm its way closer.

Usually the robot tried not to be so grabby, but in its sleep it seemed to have no such reservations. It was almost cute, like every daydream Harmonia had ever had about a partner. Soft and domestic, downright cozy.

{The idea of Mind in that dream made him want to puke.}

So why wasn't it perfect? What about this set off so many red flags in his mind? Was it the way it drooled a little, fast asleep as it was and mouth parted in a little smile, utterly relaxed? The way it had decided that, regardless of all that he had done, this was what he deserved?

Or was it the fact that Soul had just noticed how close it was. Did friends sleep so close together, snuggled together in bed?

He shook his head, that was - this was - irrelevant. He just needed to get to sleep. Just had to accept this was supposed to be ideal. He just... had to ignore the nagging voice at the back of his mind. There was nothing to worry about- It's just- {his skin was starting to crawl-}

Mind rolled onto the mattress with a muffled thump, still sound asleep, now on its side. The half marked by their cacophony. Exposed teeth stretched into a rictus grin, a smile carved free from its face, even unconscious. Cute, the way an ugly dog was. It hadn’t noticed Soul sitting up {flinching back}.

{Soul hadn’t noticed a lot of things either. Like a boiling frog, he’d been oblivious to the slow shift in their relationship. When had he started letting it sleep in his bed? Getting so close to him?}

He... why was he freaking out. This wasn't new. {And wasn't that the problem? Why did he let it go so far?} He needed to get over it; what would Mind think, if it woke up tomorrow and Soul... was acting like this. Surely it would be worried. Stress during Concord; he didn't want to be the cause of that.

He needed to get back to... what had become the status quo. He reached out a clawed hand, thumb against its pulse point, testing. Cold, even still, but relaxed; wholly within his control. Safe.

It remained un-tense at his prodding, a lamb before a butcher. Nothing was wrong here, he reminded himself. {He should be gentle, but} His hand tightens, unconscious as the creature beside him. Its throat felt so malleable, under its hands. Delicate, like if he squeezed-

The whir of a fan stopped him. A furrow had found its way onto Mind's brow. Lips and teeth parted slightly as if to breathe more easily, a near silent pant, wheezy, starting up.

Taking in a breath, deeply, slowly {an attempt to get away from that blistering confusion}, he shifted his hand from throat to shoulder. A safer place. It brought his attention back to the present moment.

His Mind leaned in, like he hadn't just been choking it. {And hadn't that been their whole relationship? Him, hurting it, and it crawling back, forgiving him for things it had no right to.} He couldn't bring himself to let go. {He shouldn't be enjoying this, the gentle give of its skin, the cool emanating from it even through its shirt.}

It had always burned, like dry ice. Why not tonight? {Not quite a lie, but not the full truth either; he hadn't felt the skin crawling sensation anytime they'd done... this.} Would it even stop him, if it did? Mind, a purposefully apathetic grin on his face, image ruined by a blue blush dusting its cheeks. No new bruises, skin clean of cuts. Awkwardly, stiltedly, asking for some time together. Would he say no to that, even if it burned? {He knew he would. Selfishly.}

He lied back down, on his side, facing his Mind. Closer to it now. He was reaching out before he'd even considered what he should be doing. Cupping the back of its head with its one free hand, {tangled into its hair, thumb gently --because he needed to remember to be gentle-- pressed to the side of its neck, feeling the cold, sluggish pulse}, he tipped its head back. An almost instinctual action he had from checking bandages, even months after it had fully healed.

Ugly scars marred its throat; stretching from its cheek to its collarbone, blue lined circuits exposed with the scars. It didn't even stir at this, seeming to have, even unconscious, grown used to the motion just as much as Soul had. A level of trust that just couldn't be deserved, earned.

They... shouldn't be doing this, should they.

He shook his head; He couldn't be having these thoughts at 12 AM. He should at least wait until morning before bringing up any of these topics. Waking up Mind now would only only make it grumpy and difficult about it; he should push these issues aside for the future. [He knew he'd probably never bring it up, push it off until it loomed on the horizon like an approaching storm.]

All his shifting had untangled their legs, had dislodged Mind from its comfortable place pressed against his side, his own panic ruining their little slice of harmony. It would definitely notice, if it woke up like this, that Soul had not slept soundly. More and more undue stress inflicted upon it, like he had not done that enough during cacophony.

If it woke up in the same... general closeness it had fallen asleep in, it would probably be fine. The best option, if he wanted not to worry it. {and not, of course, because he wanted to be closer, to have it back in his arms.} He would not be spiraling tonight. It was just a bit of cuddling, just returning to their flawed status quo. Nothing wrong with that. {May Harmonia forgive him.}

He let his eyes drift to its throat, still bared, still trusting. It would be... fine with this, he supposed. Just settling it back into where it had been when it fell asleep. He was sure it wouldn't protest this. {He wondered who it'd blame if he went too far. He knew it wouldn't blame him.}

He inched the smallest bit closer, gently tugging it in turn. His arm sled down its back, feeling the sharp, metal ridges of its spine, the slight rubbery give around it. An action that all the world looked like someone soothing a partner. {He knew he was the only one getting soothed by the action.}

Gentle, cautious, one hand tugged its face to his neck, tucking it flush against him, while the other inched across its back. Something so cold shouldn't be so enjoyable to cuddle, yet Mind felt almost perfect in his arms. He hooked his leg around its, tangling them back together under the covers, the gentle creaking of metallic joints humming at all the movement.

It snuggled closer against his neck, movement in its sleep, exposed teeth pressed against him; gross, but he didn't mind as much as he thinks he should have. Another tally in the mess he had become with Mind. He tightened his arms, he doesn't want to think about it.

Cold and heavy, like a weighted blanket, perfect for a night like this. He thinks that was why he let it sleep in his bed with it, or... what he'd told himself he was letting it do this for. Sitting under the covers with it snugly held in his arms was downright pleasant. He reminded himself he was doing this to reinstate the status quo.

He could hear its breathing, so close to his ear. No dreams, good or bad, seemed to plague his Mind, breathing smooth and uninterrupted; sometimes {and how long did he have to spend sleeping beside this to note?} when it dreamt, it seemed to forget all the damage that had been inflicted onto it. Every breath pulled in a bit stilted, like it couldn't remember how to around the unfamiliar damage. He supposes maybe in its dreams it was unbroken.

He could feel himself relaxing further into it, relaxing in the haziness night brought. Maybe... this could be okay. For the purpose of not stressing Mind out, of course.

Feeling along its back, he felt the mechanical engineering it had reduced itself to. Even through the shirt, the robot had a unique feeling... Digging the slightest bit between each ridge of its back, he felt it shudder in his arms. Curling towards him and arching its back in equal measure. Under the covers its tail was wagging, the slightest bit. Its breathing had gotten a bit snuffly too... was it having a good dream now?

Cute, he thought. He tucked his face right over its shoulder, as if it could see his reddening expression if he hadn't, even fully asleep.

He must have paused, because it squirmed in his arms a little. Soft noises, softer motions, how could he deny it a little more affection? Just to placate it, of course.

He let his claws skin over its back, dipping along the soft ridges of its spin and the relaxed muscles of its back. His other arm curled around its waist, hand splayed across its lower back and rubbing small soothing circles.

It stopped its movements, falling limp once more {he ignored how similar that drop felt to when it passed out from the pain, months before}.

Confidence renewed, and perhaps a bit chastised by its reaction to his stopping, he let himself get a bit more intense with his actions. He dipped his claws into a groove of softer skin along its spine, just below its shoulder blades, feeling the way it let out a little noise at the action; the reaction should have stopped him, even thought it wasn't a negative one.

He continued anyway. His second mistake. {his first was letting it get this close in the first place}

Humming a satisfied note, he held it close, cool against his warm body. Maybe he could get to sleep like this, ignore the wrongness. Of course, that was when it had to wake up.

"Enjoying yourself?" Groggy, but still teasing. It could tell what he was doing, hugging, cuddling it like a doll. He froze, hearing its voice, but only for a moment. He didn't get this far by showing fear, weakness. He spread his hand out, cradling it, before pulling it closer, chest flush against his own. It could fight back now.

"Quite a lot," he hummed, ear twitching in distance when he heard the way his voice cracked; he didn't know why. He wasn't lying, after all. He was enjoying himself, half asleep and enjoying the comfort of his third against him. Now though, he was brought back to reality; it didn't seem angry at him now, but he knew it would be. How couldn't it?

He could tell by the slight narrowing of its eye, even half-mask with drowsiness, it had heard his voice shake too. Idly, {to avoid thinking of other things} he wondered what it must assume that meant. Lying? Exited? Too many things for his precious Mind to ascribe meaning when there wasn't. His body was just being... uncooperative.

He didn't allow it the satisfaction of a glib remark; blunt claws traced along the soft spots by its spine, letting them dip further into the soft plastic between metal he knew could get him a reaction. Mean, he knew.

The choked off whine that turned straight into a growl was his reward, amusing as it was nauseating. At least one of them was enjoying this. Its hands reached out to weakly paw at him before sliding up to his shoulders, blunt nails digging in. It didn't seem to know what to do with all the affection, especially since Soul usually didn't get so handsy. {A sure sign he probably shouldn't be doing this.}

"What are you doing?" it huffed, pulling away from his neck and revealing its face, stained a dark indigo. "You're acting.... odd."

Clearly it didn't like how... affecting this was; Soul would have to note where exactly he'd sunk his claws, for future reference. Of course, there would be no "future" to reference this in. He was already stepping over lines, to continue doing so in the future... a recipe for disaster. "Nothing, my Mind. Can't I be in a cuddly mood? Just for tonight."

"Bullshit."

"I assure you, it's not," he grinned, eyes crinkling and mouth tilted just right to match Harmonia's smile on the left. Perfect, angelic: it must have clashed terribly with how he let his claws dig in, "Plus, you seem to be enjoying it." It shuddered a bit at his actions as it let out another whiny growl. It sounded distinctly like a dog, the way the sound rolled into a deep low rumble by its modulator. It recovered much quicker, this time.

"Fuck off," Mind didn't believe him, pushing off him the moment it could and sitting up till' it loomed above him. It seemed like it wanted to take up all his vision. He guessed it wanted to feel in control. "You're not acting yourself."

He averted his eyes. {Was this what Heart felt like, accused under that sharp, whited out gaze?}

The glass of water on the nightstand was looking rather interesting, half-empty; he thinks Mind drank it. Lights were off too, dark except what the moon, his moon, illuminated through the window. {He didn't want to look back.}

It seemed he wasn't going to be allowed to look away though, his Mind not allowing it. His face was grabbed and his eyes dragged back to Mind. It was breathing through clenched teeth, {He'd fucked up, hadn't he.} Even still, it was hard not to immediately relax into its hands; would that calm it down or stress it out further? Clearly it was disquieted with his strange attitude tonight, and finding its touch anything more than Tolerable would certainly set off some red flags.

At this point though... he doesn't think he can stress it out further. Surly it won't notice. He relaxed into its hands. Sighing and leaning its cheek into the touch. Its fingers curled, tensed; he ignored that.

"Do we have to talk about it?" Quieter than he meant to say it. He closed his eyes, knowing Mind wouldn't let him look away. Still, he could perfectly picture it's expression. Eyes narrowed, mouth pursed, shoulders tense like it was ready for a fight; it always looked so much less relaxed in an emotional confrontation over a physical one.

Blissful silence, for just a moment. "You know I can't just leave it, if there's something wrong with you, we should... endeavor to fix it."

"And if I don't want to think about it?"

"Well... that is my job, I could handle it."

That startled a laugh out of him. The startled satisfaction on its face certainly let it know it was on purpose. He knew the other wouldn't be dropping this anytime soon. Not when he'd acted so... erratically; he had to talk about it. "You know what we have isn't normal."

"What do you mean?"

Soul reached up to drag Mind down with him, face pressed to its sternum. He didn't want to look at it for this, didn't even want it seeing his expression. "What we're doing. What we've Been doing. This.”

It was silent at that, probably unable to think up a rebuttal. Conceding when someone else was right...? Strange of his Mind. Maybe it was going through the same realization Soul had gone through, that this wasn't okay. He tightened his grip, not wanting it to leave even though they both knew they shouldn't be doing this anymore. Selfish, but what had he not been.

He could feel it swallow, eerily human, "Why would you think that?"

"You're the smart one, can't figure it out? What, think this is normal? That "friends" cuddle every other night? sleep in the same bed? dress up and play dog?"

"Soul." It tried to pull his face away from its chest. He refused; he didn't want eye contact again. Couldn't look it in the eyes. He heard it sigh overhead. Resignation, probably: tired of dealing with his shit, definitely. He shouldn't have snapped, if there was any chance of this getting shoved under the rug, it was gone now.

"I shouldn't want this." Curled, tucked against its chest, cuddling it like a stuffed animal, it was obvious what "this" he was talking about.

"And if I want this too?"

He laughed against its chest. A new route his Mind had never taken; genuine manipulation. Normally it at least believed the lies it was saying. "You just want to make me feel better."

It let its head dip down and rest on the crown of his skull, cheeks pressed to his horns. It huffed, though didn't fight him on the point, "I do."

His face burned. Mind was probably tired, he'd just woken it up, after all. Probably from a good dream, definitely something that would leave everything tinted a bit pink. It wouldn't be saying this if it was thinking straight. Emotionally repressed, faking apathy, distanced from the two of them; its Mind could not be the one more emotionally present of the two of them right now.

"Friends can't do this." He repeated, refusing to follow up.

It was impossible to see its face from where he was, but he could almost Feel the eye roll it was doing. None of them could be anything but difficult. He wished it could just accept his words, just once.

"Okay than, how about... we not be friends for this."

"Like... partners?"

"..." It was silent for a moment, and just as he was considering the possibility that he'd fucked up, that he'd over stepped and suggested something strange- "Yeah... like partners."

That... could work. It would fix all the problems he'd found; friends couldn't cuddle every night, couldn't sleep in the same bed, couldn't ... couldn't do all the things he'd done with Mind. {And hadn't he compared this to daydreams his Harmonia would have had? It was perfect.} But this would Fix it all! {His skin was starting to crawl.}

He laughed, relieved. "Yeah? You'd do that for me?"

It froze a little, arms tightening around him, it seems like it didn't know how to react to that.

"...For you, my Soul."

He finally leaned back, allowing it eye contact. Its expression softens at his smile, though its brown remained the smallest bit furrowed.

"That's great! that's... that's great." He laughed again, giggly with the deflating tension. His hands wound right back around to its back, hugging it. It relaxes further, untensing in his hold; perfect, he decided. Really this makes it all finally, *finally*, make sense.

He grinned, he couldn't Stop grinning. Too much energy, he could tell by the way it slowly blinked down at him. The adrenaline drop definitely affecting it.

"So- ah, does this... ah... we're... together?" He didn't want to jump the gun too much, {and maybe a little voice at the back of his head really wanted it to say no.} even though that is what Mind had implied with its decision. Best let his Mind decide, this was its idea after all.

His Mind, his, of course. It would explain its... everything, if he looked at it through that lens. It had always been a bit, well, Odd about him, odd in the way he was odd about it. {It had to. It had to explain it all. Otherwise, he'd have to confront he wanted things he really shouldn't.}

It smiled, awkward. He guessed it had filled it's quota for emotional intelligence for the day, the night. Whatever. It was cute {and he could finally think that without guilt!}. Mind hummed, drooping into the bed, his arms, satisfied with its problem "solved." Soul really had been stressing it out... but that was okay, it was all fixed now. He could make it up to it.

"Sure... sounds good,"

"Now what? Now that we're... more than friends." The phrase left an odd taste in his mouth, but maybe that was because it was new. He'd get used to it.

"Do we have to do anything?" It asked, clearly ready to go right back to sleep. After a searching look, it relented. {Did he really look that bad...?} "Fine. I think... people usually kiss, when they're... Like that."

The words came out awkward, and he giggled at it. It phrased it like it was talking about a particularly odd thing it had seen online, not it's actual life. "Like that?" He repeated, teasing.

It groaned, annoyed, "Like *this.* Whatever. Do you want to?"

"... Maybe."

"That's not really an answer."

"No. Yes. Maybe" he waffled, like he always did. They should make indecision his middle name.

He really didn't know. It was... well it felt like what he was supposed to be doing; they'd already settled that this would fix their little "Normal" vs "Abnormal" equation. So if he wanted to keep everything else, he probably should get used to everything else that came with it.

Mind narrowed it's eye, clearly already over their little late-night emotional breakthrough. That was its thinking face, and he wondered what solution it was going to drop all its eggs into. "How about I do it?"

"The kissing? I think it's a two person activity."

An eye-roll, more a tip of the head than anything else- his Mind didn't really have pupils to roll, after all. Still, it got the idea across.

"Not on the lips, obviously." It gestured vaguely to the rest of its face, "I'll just... try it out elsewhere; perhaps some applicable data could help you decide."

"That is the nerdiest way I've ever heard someone ask for a kiss."

It turned away, embarrassment painting its face a faint blue and highlighting its freckles, "yes or no."

"Fine, yes, give me some new "data," my Mind."

The robot didn't seem to know what to do now that it was given the go-ahead. Did it think he'd say no? {Should he have said no?}

Hands settled back on his shoulders, and it leaned in closer, closer. It paused right before his face, and he couldn't help the amused snort he let out; his Mind always spoke a big game, but had awful follow through.

It growled at him, muttering something he could only hear because of how close it was, "I'm trying to be considerate."

"More like hesitant. I've already said yes."

It huffed, but finally made contact, pressed gently to his cheek.

He doesn't know what he expected. Fireworks? A rush of energy? An orchestral swell of music, perhaps?

All he got was teeth and skin. Getting kissed by someone with half a face, of course, meant teeth. Sharp and cold, like silverware, and slightly damp. Definitely a bit gross. Not unbearably so, though.

Its lips were similarly chilled, but soft against his cheek. Not the ice cube of its teeth, but comfortably cold. Really not as unexpected as he felt it was.

Mind pulled back near instantly, brow furrowed but unspeaking, worried for his reaction, probably.

He hummed, considering, "Not bad... could you try without shoving your teeth into my skin?"

"Not my fault."

"Well, the way you use those things definitely IS."

It narrowed its eye at the jabs, but leaned back in for another gentle kiss, slightly to the right of the first. Less teeth, how kind of it.

It really wasn't all that bad. He liked how gentle it felt, considerate of him in a way he'd started to enjoy in the last couple months. Sweet, if he had to describe it.

He let his eyes fall shut, humming at the sensation. It was nice; not the way he'd expected this to feel, but certainly not Bad. He wondered when it would start to feel the way others described it, though.

Seeming to take his relaxation as approval, it continued. Gently peppering his cheeks in little half kisses, it seemed like it was trying to make up for the fractured lips with twice as many pecks.

{He wondered if his face would end up covered in blue lipstick by the time they went to sleep. He guesses there wasn't anyone to see it.}

It drifted slightly closer to his lips, pressing one final kiss to the very edge of his mouth before pulling back.

"So... that enough data?" It coughed, clearly struggling not to look away. Its face was a bit blue, and he knew his was definitely tinted red, but his Mind seemed determined to look at this as "logically," as it could-a habit it had started to break in concord, but he guesses everyone had their ways of dealing with new situations.

He rubbed his cheek, it felt burning, warm from all the cold kisses. "Yeah..."

"Yeah?"

"Impatient, much?" He teased, trying not to let it show how much he... didn't know if he wanted to go further than that. The kisses were nice, very nice, even, but the idea of going further than innocent pecks...

"I want to go to sleep." it said, "We can stop here, if you want. Figure this shit out tomorrow."

"No, no," sitting around doing nothing, waiting for his problems to be solved rarely got him anywhere, and trust him, he'd Tried. "We can kiss now, if you want."

It hummed, like it hadn't actually considered Soul agreeing and didn't know what to do now that he did. "Yeah... lets."

There was an awkward moment, where both of them waited for the other to make the first move. Mind had done it first, but shouldn't that mean Soul should have his turn as well? or does that mean it should just continue what it had started.

Seeming to care more about the prospect of getting to sleep after the deed was done than it was with the slight tension that had entered the air, Mind went for the kill.

It was, in a word, awful.

Mind went in a little fast, and Soul couldn't say he wasn't to blame either, leaning in when he saw it moving forward. Teeth against skin, lips mushed together in an uncoordinated mess. He thought concord was supposed to make them on the same wavelength, but clearly that was a critical misunderstanding of their newfound harmony. It was bad in a way independent from the physical sensation, like he was doing something against his vary nature. Like a wider example of all the little doubts he'd had about this "solution."

He powered through for only a moment longer, before it became very much unbearable. It burned, and not in any pleasant way: like someone had shoved mercury under his skin, blood lit up in a horrid prickling wrongness.

He pulled away with a shudder, and opening his eyes he could tell Mind didn't seem to have enjoyed it either. Fuck. Really bad.

It was silent between their breathing, neither wanting to admit fault or mistake. Trapped between the urge to suggest a do-over, to try it again, that really it shouldn't have been that bad, and the bone-deep need to pull his skin off, he couldn't say a thing.

Mind never was able to shut up though.

"That was... an experience."

"No shit," He hissed, voice beckoned by Mind's nothing observation.

"I take it that wasn't to your liking either, my Soul?"

"How could you tell?" Snappy, yet again.

It just looked at him. He stared back, for just a moment, before tearing his eyes away. He couldn't deal with this right now. The worst part was that it wasn't just the kiss though, that was just highlighting the problem. His Fix wasn't the golden path he'd decided it needed to be, and now he was left to deal with the problem once more. They weren't normal.

It reached out, gentle as it could be half metal, "Hey, we'll... figure something else out."

"How?" and his voice came out split, like two people were speaking at once. He dragged in a shaky breath, he shouldn't be snapping at Mind, it had indulged him in his wild frenzy for answers tonight, had done nothing wrong so far. Oh Harmonia did he want to get angry at someone though. Another sin to add to his tally.

It brought its hand right back to itself, hesitant to be touching him now that he'd gotten himself into a mood. Probably for the best, he doesn't know how he'd handle more of that cold against him.

"We'll figure something out."

He didn't think they would. It didn't look like it thought they could either; shoulders tense and jaw clenched. Nervous. Lying.

"You don't believe that." He barely kept it from turning into a snarl.

It cringed back, probably unhappy with its lie called out. It took a breath, a rebuttal already coming out, it really couldn't shut up, could it? "Soul-"

He turned around, back to his Mind. He couldn't get mad at it, he reminded himself; it was only trying to help. Ineffective, but he had to forgive it. Harmonia would forgive it. Hands clutched to his ears, knees pulled up to his chest, he could hear it spluttering behind him.

"That is so-" it stopped, but he knew what it wanted to say: childish. Why stop itself? It would be saying the first truthful statement of the night, if it didn't.

He curled up further, not wanting to listen, to care. Freaking it out, earning its ire, having convinced it to go alone with his horrible horrible ideas... he didn't know if he felt more shame or anger. Which was safer? Which one was he supposed to be feeling?

There was a sigh, tired, from his Mind. He tried not to take it personally. A second more of shifting, moving blankets. Was it leaving? That would make the most sense. {He ignored the voice in the back of his head screaming to stop it. He didn't want to be alone.}

Before he could stew too long, a blanket was dropped over his shoulders, a barrier between him and Mind. Considerate of it, though he doesn't know why it would do that, he was entirely capable of tucking himself in when it lef- He startled as it settled against his back.

He couldn't feel the cold through the covers, only the pressure, the knowledge. Arms draped over and chest to his spine.

He couldn't cry right now. That would send the wrong message. It was pushing his buttons, he'd made it very clear he was trying to avoid even looking at it and yet- It wasn't touching him. It was trying. Fuck.

He didn't want to cry right now.

"That may have been a... misguided attempt to fix the problem, but there must be a solution. We just haven't found it."

"Don't think so..." He muttered, barely audible.

"Well I don't care."

That startled a laugh from him, wheezy and a bit choked up. "Wasn't this whole thing supposed to be about making me feel better? You can't say "I don't care""

He could almost feel the smile the laugh gained him, the way it relaxed even through the blanket. He stared intensely at the wall, not wanting it to distract him from the issues at hand.

Its next words were soft, going after the small opening in his defenses, "We figured it wasn't romantic. That can just be... a starting point. We know its not romantic, at the very least."

"Fine... okay, I concede we at least learned a little from that..." He paused, considering his next words carefully, "Most of the kisses were fine, really, just... not on the lips."

There was silence for a moment, and he worried that maybe he'd fucked up, said something he shouldn't. Maybe it hated that part too. Maybe it just hated him.

Shifting behind him, than a crackling voice, "ah... me too. That's good, yeah? More information to work with."

He hummed an agreeing noise, "I guess."

It settled its head on his shoulder, another inch closer to him. He didn't push it away, and it relaxed into him, taking that as permission. He shouldn't be letting this happen, not when they still didn't know what This was.

"We don't want our relationship... romantic." The word came out a bit awkward, like it didn't even want to acknowledge they'd tried to go in that direction at all, "And you've decided it can't just be a friend thing-"

Soul huffed, "what do you mean, "decided?" I thought you agreed. Use your logic, my Mind."

It growled behind him, clearly unamused at being interrupted, "Well the romantic angle definitely didn't pan out, and while I see your misgivings about it being wholly platonic... I am beginning to think they may be unfounded."

"Well, good thing your not the emotional interpersonal relationship third, because I don't see reason to heed those misgivings."

"Heart wouldn't give a shit about whether we were calling it romantic or platonic and you know it."

That stopped Soul in his tracks. The words were definitely only meant as a glib comeback, a way for his Mind to have the last laugh but they struck a cord with him. Heart probably wouldn't care whatever Soul and Mind called their relationship, as long as all three of them could live happily.

Was this... another false construct? He thought he was over this, that he'd excised all the rot from his worldview. He couldn't tell.

It just made Sense for there to be things friends shouldn't do. Logical sense, except his logic was cuddled against him and clearly not against being friends through it all.

Awful. He needed to think. He couldn't just... He didn't want to have to throw away more of how he viewed the world. So much of it he'd come to realize was holding him back; the thought that there was still more he hadn't figured out felt sickening.

"My Soul...?" It had gotten all soft again, the teasing air disappearing as quick as it had appeared. He'd probably been silent too long, destroying the moment.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbled, suddenly nervous all over again. "I just... can friends really be like this?"

It hummed a considering thought, "A friend is someone who is not an enemy or who is on the same side: a familiar or helpful thing. That definition doesn't exclude a bit of... cuddling and kissing, I think."

"..." He narrowed his eyes, ears twitching, "was that a dictionary definition of "friend?""

Silence.

"Cute. When did you even look that up? You can't have done that tonight."

"Ah... near the start of concord."

He laughed, "Why didn't you pull up that definition sooner?"

It tucked its face into his neck, as if to hide it. Ironic, because Soul couldn't see it's face either way, but now he could definitely feel the way its face was steadily getting colder. Blushing. "I... may not be firing on all cylinders. It's late. You woke me up in the middle of the night."

He couldn't help a laugh, "I thought your logic was absolute, yet you can't handle a nighttime conversation?"

"Well I don't see you handling this much better."

"I'm not the one who suggested the first faulty solution," Haughty, like he wasn't at fault for that same suggestion failing.

An indigent sound from behind, like it didn't know what to do with that, "Well excuse me! I wasn't the one having a little crisis he needed his Mind to try and fix."

That got him to turn around, squirming around the blanket until it had fallen off his shoulders and freed his arms. Using the newly acquired mobility, he gave his Mind a little shove, playful, "shut up, you"

It grinned, victorious, and grabbed his arms before he could pull back and dragged it into a hug. Still, it was gentle, or at least as gentle as the mechanical limbs could be, something he could easily struggle out of. All his squirms were token though, and he let himself be dragged into the embrace.

He huffed, "Was that a ploy, my dear Mind? I thought you over such petty tactics." There was a grin in his voice, one he didn't want to admit was there.

Its smile just widened, "All is fair in love and war, my Soul."

"And so what is this? Love or war?"

Another question he shouldn't have asked, but it answered without hesitation, like it had been planning to it before he'd even finished his question. "Love."

Letting out a laugh, he tucked his face against its chest, "Yeah? That still fit your definition of friend?"

Its arms wrapped around him, steady, safe. "Of course."

"Sure, fine, I'll believe that." He didn't know if he fully did now but... maybe he could. Another day, another week, month, maybe even year but... maybe he could.

"That's all I ask." Sleepy, content. The stress finally leaving it; a cause enough to pretend to believe it, at the very least.

#you can reblog this ver. :]#cccc #cj #chonny jash #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj mind #cccc mind #cj soul #cccc soul #fanfic #fanfiction #my third fanfic !! yay!#jbird's art #jbird's fiction

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sbnslver · 2 days ago

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Heaven ˚➶ ｡˚ Taehyun

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ boyfriend! Taehyun x fm!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Summary: Who better to take care of you when your sick than your own boyfriend, well maybe if your boyfriend isn't Taehyun.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Fluff ! Warning! There is talk of pills (it's just cold medicine)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Author's note: Completely self indulgent since I have been sick for far too long. Also Over the Moon SOTY! (not proofread)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Masterlist

You wake up in the morning with a dull ache in your throat and the frustrating realization that you were struggling to breathe through a stuffy nose. You try to sit up, but as you move, your head begins to feel heavier, and every motion feels like it’s taking all of your effort. Every swallow makes your throat burn, and all you want to do is just burrow yourself under the covers.

The thought of getting out of bed seems nearly impossible now that the warmth of your bed is sucking you back into the land of sleep. You pull the covers up to your chin and close your eyes, hoping to sleep off the aches and feverish chill. Just as you're about to drift off, your eyes shoot open as you remember the day. You reach over to your bedside table and pick up your phone; it’s 11 a.m. You were supposed to be getting ready to go out with Taehyun. The both of you finally had a free day in your schedules, so you had planned a date. Just a picnic in the park, a way for both of you to relax and enjoy the outdoors.

You let out a groan of frustration. Of all the times to get sick, it just had to be now. You hold your phone in your hand, hesitating over the call button. You felt terrible about having to call Taehyun and cancel, especially since it was his idea in the first place; not only that, having to tell him you were sick was going to be a whole other mission on its own.

Taehyun is the sweetest man on Earth; you love him with every fiber of your being. He’s kind, loving, and affectionate, and he always knows just what you need. However, he has just one minor flaw, and it’s turning into an overbearing, doting caretaker when you’re sick. It’s completely overbearing; refusing to leave your side, he insists on piling you up with blankets, spoon-feeding you endless bowls of soup, and not letting you skip a single dose of medicine. He even tries every home remedy he knows, fully determined to get you feeling better before the day ends. While you appreciate his caring nature, all you wanted to do right now was sleep in bed unbothered.

With a sigh, you finally hit the call button, sitting up in your bed and breathing in quickly, trying to unclog your nose as much as possible and trying to sound as normal as you can. You clear your throat as you hear the sound of your lovely boyfriend on the other line.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? We were supposed to be meeting up at 3, right?” Taehyun picks up a worried tone lacing his voice.

"Yeah, I’m fine, Taehyun; it’s just..." You slowly drift off, hesitating to end your sentence. You let out a sigh and closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the worst. “I think I’m coming down with something. Nothing serious though, just, you know, a little cold.” You quickly add, “I think it just might be better for me to stay home. I don’t really want to get you sick.”

You hear shuffling on his end of the line and small grunts that you can only assume is Taehyun. “Baby, I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” He says hanging up the call without giving you any chance to reply.

"No, Taehyun its-” you hear the line beep. Defeated you sigh and put your phone back down on the nightstand to prepare yourself.

–

As you're lying in bed fighting hard to keep your eyes open, you hear keys jingling from your front door, and not even ten seconds later, Taehyun is at your side, his cold hand on your warm forehead.

“You’re not burning up yet, but just in case, lets get you bundled up, hm?” Taehyun grabs blankets from your closet piling them on top of you tucking you in tightly to your bed.

“Baby, I can barely breathe,” you laugh watching him frantically try and tuck you in. You free one of your arms and grab him, steading him beside you preventing him from leaving to retrieve more blankets. “Tyunieee– I missed you…thank you for coming over here; you really didn’t have to though.”

“Nonsense, you really think I’d let you be here alone? Besides, I missed you too.” He beamed down at you and bent over to give you a shy kiss on your forehead. Just as quickly, he clears his throat and looks away from you, crossing his arms looking around nonchalantly. “Now anyway, back to business. I know you still have medicine here from the last time you were sick; where is it?”

You let out a giggle at his antics, “Behind the mirror in the bathroom.”

He nods curtly and makes his way over. Once he returns, his hands are full of different pills and liquids, all promoting to cure colds and fevers. “Alright, are you ready?”

“Taehyun, is this really necessary? I swear I'll be fine if I just get some rest; really, it’s not that bad.” You whine grimacing at all the medicine that he threw down on the bed. “You being here is enough.” All you get in return is a disapproving look. You sigh and pout.

Taehyun runs out of the room and returns moments later with a glass of water. He sits next to you and opens the first bottle pulling out two orange pills. He grabs your hand and places the pills in the center of your palm signaling for you to put them in your mouth. You grimace and put them in your mouth and he hands you the glass of water. You take it, fill your mouth, and altogether swallow the water and the two pills. Before you can place the water down next to you, he’s already placing a cup with purple liquid in your hand. You give him a questioning glance.

“It’s for your throat, it should get rid of the soreness,” he explains, holding the small cup out to you.

“I thought only little kids took liquid medicine.”

“Exactly,” he laughs, pinching your cheek.

You begrudgingly take the cup and shoot back the foul tasting liquid making a disgusted face as the flavor hits your tongue. “Ew, that's so gross no matter how many times I have it.” You look at Taehyun with a pout on your face. You raise your arms up towards him. “Cuddle me?” You ask giving him puppy dog eyes and jutting out your lower lip.

He looks at you, his face faltering for just a second before he quickly straightens up and says, “Nuh-uh, there is still more to do.” He races out of the room before you can protest. “I’m making you soup.” He yells from what you can only assume is the kitchen.

The pout on your face deepens and you let out a dramatically loud huff of air hoping that he can hear it and you cross your arms. “C’mon Taehyun just come cuddle me,” you whine “I’m feeling miserable the least you can do is cuddle with me.”

You hear footsteps getting closer to your room, anticipating Taehyun to enter You quickly turn on your side away from the door and close your eyes. You hear an exasperated sigh. “You are such a handful,” he laughs and you hear him set down the bowl of soup on the table next to you as the bed dips and you feel his hand against your forehead. “You feeling okay?”

You nod in response. “You love me though,” You smile, eyes still closed ignoring his presence.

“That I do, now c’mon sit up so you can eat.” He grabs your arms and hoists you to a sitting position moving your pillows so you have something to lean against. He grabs the bowl and lifts the spoon to your mouth. “Open up.”

You stare at the spoon and back at him, reluctantly opening your mouth allowing Taehyun to spoon feed you. “I’m not a child.”

“What are you talking about? You’re literally my baby,” he coos giggling and offering you another spoonful. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You respond, mouth full of soup.

“You can tell me to stop, you know?”

You choke on your soup. The sound of his words leaves you hurdling into a coughing fit, unable to catch your breath and your eyes watering. “What?!” You exclaim.

He pats your back soothing your coughing fit. “I just mean if it bothers you when I take care of you, just tell me to back off. I know I can probably be overbearing but I just love to take care of you,” He admits sheepishly. You notice his ears turning a light shade of pink and you can’t help the sheepish smile that graces your lips.

You reach for his hand and give it a small squeeze. "Taehyun, of course I love and appreciate that you take care of me and I know that it can’t be easy dealing with me being stubborn. I really do appreciate it.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze hoping he can see their warmth. “I just worry that you’ll get sick.”

“Well even if I do, I know you’ll take good care of me.” He laughs, tension dissipating from his body. Taehyun continues to spoon feed you until there is nothing left. “Well I’m going to go clean up okay?” He gets up from his spot from the bed bending down bowl in hand to give you a light kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be a right back cutie,” He winks.

“I don’t think I look very cute right now,” you're getting drowsy now, the medicine from earlier is finally working its magic. “You better come back soon mister.”

He just lets out a laugh before returning to the kitchen. You hear the sink begin to run as you imagine Taehyun is washing the dishes. As he’s gone you sink further and further under the covers, your eyelids feeling heavier as each moment passes. Not long after Taehyun returns, stopping in his tracks at your bedroom , noticing your sleeping figure. A small smile adjourns his lips as he takes light steps forward.

He kneels down next to you and his cool hand settles against your forehead. You flinch slightly before returning back to your peaceful sleep breathing soft and even. He frowns slightly at the warmth, a pang of worry pulls at his chest, finger lingering as if his touch alone could somehow relieve you of the fever. Reluctantly he pulls his hand back and his gaze falls upon your features. He takes his hand against and lightly traces your face. Along your nose, eyelashes and eyebrows. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear eyebrows knitting them together in worry.

“Please get better soon…I hate seeing you like this,” he sighs. He gets up from the floor and moves to the other side of your bed quietly slipping in under the covers. He moves ever so slightly as to not wake you and slowly wraps his arms around your figure. Instinctively you move so that you nestle on his chest taking in his scent.

“I’m here… and I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, almost as if reassuring himself. “I’ll stay right here with you.”

Minutes pass, and he finds himself listening to the soft sounds of the night, the faint rustling of blankets as you nestle closer, his own heartbeat steadying as he holds you. He finds himself slowly drifting to sleep, his eyes growing heavy as the room fills with the warmth of your shared breaths.

Just as he’s about to fall asleep, he feels your hand shift slightly, curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him even in sleep. A small smile forms on his lips, and he leans down to press another soft kiss to the top of your head, whispering, “Sleep well. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

#txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt reactions #txt #txt angst #txt fluff #taehyun x reader #kang taehyun #txt taehyun #taehyun fluff #taehyun angst #taehyun scenarios

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doveywovy · 2 days ago

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usually a/b/o aus start with tobirama being an omega but hiding it. society looks down on it, the senju especially, etc etc. but i think it would be interesting to go at it from the opposite perspective:

tobirama's an omega, and this is basically meaningless. They've all developed ways of handling the hormone issues, there's no strong prejudices against an omega as a shinobi, and the senju in particular are Totally Chill about everything because of their medical background. So tobirama isn't hiding it, and everyone knows, and it's no big deal.

Except for Izuna.

who's like- so normal, and progressive, usually, he's never cared about this sort of thing before. Hikaku's an omega and Izuna was the first to suggest he should still be a frontline fighter and the secondary heir, okay- he's not some old man with deeprooted prejudices blinding him!

Except every time he sees Tobirama on the battlefield he gets a deepseated sense that something is wrong. Tobirama should be at home!!! taking care of some kids or- or lounging around in a nest in preparation for his heat!!! he shouldn't be on the battlefield!! and then he tries to kill tobirama, because that's his job and obviously the man will kill a bunch of uchiha if he doesn't. He's got some weird shit going on in his head but he's not stupid.

It's izuna's private shame that he keeps entirely to himself, hoping eventually he'll squash the instinct into nothingness....until an uneasy truce is made between the Uchiha and Senju, they're meeting in public more often, and suddenly it's getting really hard for him to not just say something. Why is nobody giving up their seat so tobirama can sit down on something soft at the meeting????? why are all these alphas making intense eye contact with an unmated omega?????? why isnt anybody making sure he's eating enough when his heat is approaching??????? izuna can't actually say this stuff because it would make him sound the worlds oldest most out of touch grandpa, but he does act on it. if nobody else will give up their seat, he will. if he can't tell people off for the eye contact he can block their view. he's going to ply tobirama with so much food it's going to make him sick-

his behavior is obvious and deeply fucking embarrassing for everyone witnessing it. but tobirama thinks its funny so theres nothing anybody can do about it

#not really sure how to end this au i just think the premise is extremely funny #i think this is all even funnier if izuna is a beta not an alpha.

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eldritch-spouse · 21 hours ago

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Belo my lovely silkie chicken I just wanna collect his fur and make a nice cozy sweater with it 💕

also I was going through your world building post and one thing I noticed is that Saiders are very heavy with punishments: humans who practiced magic without their say so, angels who had big disagreements, etc would all get severe punishments what would that look like?

[Belo sweater would be the most comfortable thing you've ever worn in a while and probably help when you're going through health/mood lows.]

Siadar are extremely heavy with punishment, regardless of who or what that punishment is targeted towards. They're harsh with angels, they're harsh with humanity, they're harsh with their own kind and they continue to be harsh elsewhere, to their newer projects.

The top of their hierarchy will find a million and one ways to justify the intensity of their punitive force, so it's not as if the siadar themselves see their actions as cruel. Neither do angels, as beings with very defined purposes instilled into them since birth (and no real biological or psychological reason to break them). In fact, humanity itself, devoid of any moral compass created by its own species, absorbed the moral compass of siadars for practically the entire duration there was interlevel contact. So many humans understood and accepted the punishments they saw happen or were subjected to as normal.

Now, humanity isn't very magically inclined by default. The species was designed to have less "magnetism" to that type or energy, to reject it, so the humans that are out there practicing it in that period of time are already deviants in some form or another. This means we're probably talking about a collection of "infractions" already committed by the humans in question. Death is a very likely outcome here. Or, at the very least, the removal of reproductive abilities, so that this particular human -If they happen to biologically be more attuned to magic than they should be- Cannot spread that ability to any descendants.

The sight of a particularly magically talented human is reason enough for siadar authorities to investigate other highers in charge of monitoring human populations, in the effort of judging whether or not a human was directly tampered with in forbidden ways.

Angels are a very organized species, to say the least. Out of most non-humans out there, these would be the individuals that are least likely to ever question their place in life, to ponder on concepts bigger than their routines and duties, or even seriously entertain intrusive thoughts. They're a lot more likely to report their own perceived defective symptoms to assigned siadars than they are to attempt to act on them. It's worth noting that angels also monitor each other, especially the ones of Worshipper rank, and will easily report suspicious behavior. They aren't malicious in this evaluation, but they're unwilling to cover up serious situations.

Big disagreements between angels, although rare (until the time Betrayer seeded doubt into the minds of some celestials), aren't very likely to escalate into angel-on-angel physical violence. In spite of any bubbling emotion, they're still practically hardwired to respect rank differences and have internalized that harming another angel is harming their kind altogether. These disagreements can entirely halt the productivity of many tasks if the celestials involved have equal standing in terms of authority. In these instances, both will eventually request the opinion of the nearest unoccupied siadar.

Angels are a self-punitive species as well. They'll perceive their failures -Even if not directly their fault- as punishment worthy and will inflict wounds on themselves or deprive themselves of participation on anything until they are "forgiven" by their highers. Celestials can and will die simply from feeling that they are consistently failing, becoming lethargic and weak until they simply perish.

#general tce

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reidhalstead · 3 days ago

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The sense that Reid is missing more than a couple puzzle pieces magnifies. He knows eavesdropping is rude, by all accounts. Especially abusive given the supernaturalism of his method. He despises himself enough, he cannot bring himself to craft more reasons for depracation. If his roommate has already pressed on something and knows that Rose's behaviour is off, then he isn't going to do anything by continuing to press her until they're warring.

He didn't come out to fight. He'd been hoping he could enjoy a drink, with his friend and sisters without the bloodshed, or the blades — no bullets, or silver, verbena or wolfsbane. Just the shitty Halloween, surrounded by those hiding behind masks, and drowning themselves in drinks. Dare he desire a glimpse of normal —

He needs another drink to settle the coiling of his muscles; to stop himself from speaking a word on what he'd been listening into. And he wants to know if Anika is going to tell him this big, terrible secret that has his sister on edge. Since she herself isn't going to. Even when she burrows into his side, a hand falls around her back, making sure she's okay. "Bel—Rose," he's still retraining that habit. Just as he's trying to come to terms that his little sunshine isn't the same little sister he remembers.

He gently nudges her backwards, so he can look down at her, witnessing the tears threatening to bead at her ducts. "Whatever's going on, you can tell me," a beat, to clarify, "In your own time." It might piss him off, but he isn't planning on trashing a night he's already wishing he stayed in for, over whatever women whisper about in half-truths. (He'll bring it the fuck up later when emotions are lower) So he lets her rest against him, despite imagining that she must find the icy touch, disconcerting.

Reid sees Anika weaving her way back through the crowd, over Rose's shoulder. Turning his head, he moves his sister's hair out of his face where she's using him as a crutch. His lip twitches and he frowns, capturing the scent of something else lingering on Belle's skin. Disconcerting still. On his side now. All that talk about tuning his senses for the sake of this and now he's regretting that too.

There's the faint remains of wolf clinging to her; it's on her clothes, and her hair now she's standing right beside him. And how is he supposed to bring that up in a brotherly conversation? Eyes flash when they narrow at her, diverting from the course of their surroundings to try and read what exactly Rose has hidden in her mind. He can't exactly say: We'll talk about who you're busy with, later. It's invasive and wildly inappropriate, he knows. "We'll talk tomorrow, when you're sober, okay?" Promise. Nothing else need be said. He waited seven years; he hid for seven years, he can take a little more time easing into being a brother again. His firm tone settles and he's leaning over the bar to order another set of drinks.

He's taking Anika's silent advice; a row of shots, and another trio of whiskies. So when his roommate plants herself back on the chair beside him, he jokes as if it might lighten the mood from its momentary plateau of animosity. "Did you do that to Shrek, or did you find him that way?" Either would be believable.

Rose snatches the shot and downs it quickly before she wraps her fingers around her drink and takes several sips. The truth. Rose can't help but smirk at her friend and then roll her eyes. The last thing she was going to do was confess the truth to Anika, in a bar, where her older brother could easily hear them. "What part of 'I'm not having this conversation here' do you not understand, Anika?"

"Yeah. It's like nothing happened." Because maybe nothing did happen. Maybe she hadn't stayed in place on purpose, waiting for Anika's daggers to slice through her. But... she had. And Anika had watched it. So she knew some of what was going through the middle Halstead's mind, but not all.

You can trust me. Anika insisted. But Rose wasn't sure if she could anymore. Not with the way she was trying to get her to confess in a bar, near her brother. Is this her plan? Her way of getting Reid to know what is happening with me? A set up?

"You know what, Anika--" Rose smiled tightly as she looked up at her friend. "You can tell him whatever the fuck you want. I'm sure, by know, he's already figured it out himself, anyway. He's not dumb." A pause as she moved closer to her friend. "But I'm not, either."

With that, she takes her drink and walks away from Anika, straight towards her brother. Her eyes burned as she sat down next to him, pushed her arm through his and leaned into his shoulder. "I got my drink." A low mutter as she took another gulp, doing her best not to start crying.

@anikabooker

#o: a.booker #o: r.halstead #event: halloween

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notachair · 1 year ago

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thinking about how Sypha described Alucard like a "cold spot in a room" in S2, and Alucard showing up at the end of Nocturne S1 looking all desaturated, though yes ethereal, but also in a sense cold and ghostly, all buttoned up at the front. Sypha saying his sadness being like an icy well. And here he'd been so soft and happy by the S4 finale 😭 I'm nervous- but excited. And I fear the new groupie got some walls to tear down

#pleasepleaseplease don't allow him to just be all professional and impersonallll #like his voice isn't completely dispassionate. and I feel like some of this attitude must be from his age and experiences.#like there's a sense of maturity and security as well. just- yea.#I wonder if the series will touch more upon alucard's vampire side now and how he feels about it... he's looking the part #and he's beyond a normal human life time by far #I'd enjoy it.#he's had some more experience plotting against vampires tho I guess. considering the whole “we need a plan” thing with the group but they #did succeed making a more proper plan at the end 👍 regardless of its failure. that's just one of the canon events #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #nocturne spoilers #my rambles #castlevania spoilers

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worstloki · 7 months ago

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there is a difference between being born to a throne, maliciously vying for a throne, stealing a throne, and having a throne thrust upon you when you are already in the midst of an identity crisis. And I fear Loki's place in the line of succession has people unable to differentiate between any of these

#you can't really argue he planned the extent of Thor's downfall #that was all Odin #Loki didn't force Thor to invade Jotunheim he isn't even the one who gave Thor the idea -- Thor did that all on his own!#that he was doing waswasa @ thor didn't help but wasn't really crime worthy on its own #Thor himself took time convincing the other warriors to be okay with the trip despite the treason and danger involved #like. what. Thor can't differentiate good advice from bad and is emotionally volatile and reckless and that's Loki's fault?#THOR was the one who got them past Heimdall too #the entire ordeal inadvertently showed off the favouritism Thor was receiving in comparison to Loki #even though Loki was the one supposedly so easily influencing Thor to such an extent #call Thor a puppet the way he--wait. no. that sounds weird. uhhhhh #you get the point #people will claim Loki was all up in there rearranging Thor's mental processes to cause his downfall #when really it was Loki doing the bare minimum instigation and watching things only devolve from there #because Thor WAS reckless and immature ?? and he WAS quick to anger and enjoyed exerting his power with violence ??#Loki didn't STEAL THE THRONE FROM THOR he literally just is implied to undermine the coronation #that's not even confirmed but we assume it's true that he let the frost giants in near the casket etc.#Loki has his own actual crimes that he did against Thor and hugging his bro's arm and saying 'you're soooooo strong and correct' was not on #even if you manage to argue Loki was cheering Thor on for the invasion (he wasn't) it was clearly to dob Thor in with Odin #which he did when he had some guard inform Odin #that Odin's chosen punishment was for Thor's disobedience aside stop blaming Loki for the damage ODIN inflicted on him #focus on Loki making up lies to Thor about how Odin died instead like at least Loki DID SOMETHING for that #you can even ascribe as evil a motive as you want there bc Loki was slipping fr #twirling his hair and telling Thor he's smarter about the realm's safety than the king was on the normal scale #you want to talk morals go look at how eager Thor was to invade mass destroy and massacre in the other realm #and expected Odin to 'finish them off! together!' bc he was power high on whatever bloodlust pheromones battle apparently imitates for him #sigh. this is why you can't have nice things Thor. no Loki you're barely any better. sit down. have a cookie.

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reginamillls · 4 months ago

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I think the deleted scene is simply showing you how much Buck is cared for by the people he chose to be in his life, and from someone who craved that care and attention for so long I just think that's neat that Buck has so many people now that do, and idk I'm just happy for him

#kayla.txt #bucktommy #evan buckley #IM JUST HE IS SO CARED FOR HE IS SO LOVED #look at three people all saying how much they care for buck #three people that buck chose to be in his life and they care for him as much as buck cares for them #its said in different ways but thats whats important in the clip #some of y'all are just fucking gross #sometimes the scene isn't that deep and taking shots out of context #to portray a character as predatory or whatever the fuck homophobic shit you are saying is gross #for a show all about how people can grow and change for the better y'all hate when people grow and change for the better #i see shit like im a pisces and a lesbian and I want this character to die violently #and i think I'm a pisces and a lesbian and I personally love this character #our experiences arent the same #and I think having the gay men in fandom be comfortable and safe #is more important then a fucking ship #sorry normally I dont do this on my blog but I am tired #if you want to know my stance? multishipper #I want people who follow me to be comfortable and have fun

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dr-hanwool · 1 day ago

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Hearing that not all of the money Hanwool was giving Rain would go to the escort had the other tutting lightly, under his breath. He understood that the club had to make money, but didn't they pay enough already for the bookings and the booze? Hanwool just wanted all of his money to go directly to Rain, wanting to help him in his situation. He knew it was a bit of a long-shot - paying for love was superficial. It didn't pay for the deeper affection that Hanwool so desperately craved - but he wanted Rain to know that should he ever leave the club, Hanwool would be able to provide for him. Still, regardless of his money being split between Rain and the club, it was worth it to feel his heart. To touch the untouchable escort.

Rain's heart was beating so hard, so fast, so much more than the resting rate, the longer Hanwool held his hand against the other's chest. It betrayed his emotions, and while the doctor couldn't pinpoint exactly how the other was feeling, he knew there was only a small crop this kind of heartbeat could come from; fear, nervousness, anger, anxiety, anticipation, excitement, affection. Hanwool wondered which of them Rain was feeling right now, immediately dismissing affection from his mind. Rain's face was as level as ever, staring right back at him, and other than when he flirted a little the escort never showed affection towards Hanwool. The doctor was worried about Rain was scared, perhaps masking his true feelings behind a façade of indifference, but when he asked him Rain said he wasn't. His heart told a different story - but which story? Hanwool wanted to know.

When Hanwool apologised for his weird questions, he noticed Rain's eyes widen, seemingly surprise. The escort nodded, but Hanwool wasn't offended. He knew, more than anyone, that his line of questioning wasn't typical. His humour was darker than most due to a combination of the depression nature of his job and his life experiences.

"Yes, Khun... I think it's part of you. It can't be helped."

Hanwool smiled at that, his usually stern eyes softening slightly, especially when Rain covered his hand with his own. The contact was innocent, but electrifying. Hanwool was used to that hand smacking his own away, so to have it instead touching him so normally... well, what was it if not progress?

"Weird or not, you paid to feel my heartbeat. So, knock yourself out."

"You're too kind," Hanwool teased, his hand firmly against Rain's chest, his head leaning even closer to the other's face. Like this, it was as though Rain's heart was pulsating directly into him - a connection of some sorts, one that wasn't exactly the relationship Hanwool was hoping for, but one that was symbolic to him. Even though his eyes were trained onto Rain, it didn't escape how the escorts walking around in his peripheral had to double-take, as if in disbelief that Rain was allowing this to happen. Hanwool didn't care if the money was talking on his behalf - there was no denying that he was now different from the other clients. Special.

"You know feeling your heart beat isn't all I want," Hanwool said casually, truthfully. Nothing he hadn't said before. Rain wasn't a backroom worker, nor did he ever accept backroom offers, so it was moot to bring it up in detail, so Hanwool didn't dwell. "But thank you, for giving me this. It's enough for me." For now, went unsaid, as Hanwool finally pulled away. His hand was still warm, from where it had been pressing against Rain's chest. "Pour me another drink? Any other one."

As Hanwool waited, he cocked his head to the side in contemplation. "I told you that the heart tells me a lot about a person. Usually, I'm, very good understanding its music. But you, Rain... I can't seem to figure yours out." Hanwool smiled, as if love-struck. "Other than the fact that it was beautiful, of course. Like the rest of you."

Hanwool barely flinched at the unexpected answer to his question. He hadn't thought that Rain would ever allow him to be so close, to touch him this way - but to the doctor's surprise, the escort had agreed, setting a price of 7000 baht to feel his chest. The only thing Hanwool could think of was that whatever the price was, it was worth it.

Rain hadn't moved from his spot, and Hanwool's hand was still curled around his back. Slowly, he dragged it down, fingers running along the lined folds of his tank top before he withdrew them into his coat for his wallet. He watched as the other drank from the dark rum again, slowly so as not to choke on it like last time, waiting.

"You're very weird, Khun. Would you pay to touch every part of my body if I allow you?"

"As if you don't know the answer to that already," Hanwool flirted, smiling at the other while taking out his wallet. Each time he had booked for Rain, it had been online or at the counter, the payment swiped into the system. When they sat in the booths, anything extra he spent money on - food, drinks, whatever - he'd pay it on the way out, on his tab. But this was a little bit different, doing it upfront. It felt more personal.

Hanwool just hoped that Rain didn't think he was judging him, for accepting his money. Because he wasn't. The doctor had made up his mind a long time ago that he was going to spend his money on Rain. Besides, this was Rain's job. He was providing a service that not everybody was capable of doing, because of their own prejudices. If Hanwool sat here judging Rain for selling parts of his body to him as an escort, then he'd need to also do the same for himself for being the person paying in the first place. There was honour in all work - though, Hanwool would love for Rain to leave this place one day. Just so that nobody else could ever get a chance to touch him like how he was going.

"This goes right to you, yes?" Hanwool asked as he deftly counted out the notes in his wallet to get the required amount. He didn't know how much money the escorts made from their booking fee, but he supposed it wasn't that great. Rain was asking for a large amount, which Hanwool didn't mind in the slightest - it just was telling about how little he must receive in general. That angered the doctor. Rain was worth double his weight in gold, in his eyes.

Hanwool slid the money over discreetly, wanting Rain to have it in his hands before he touched him, just so that the other knew he was serious and would not go back on his word. He pocketed his wallet when he was done and inched closer to the escort, his head tilted so he could get a good look at Rain's face. His hand was practically twitching on the table to finally touch the man beside him.

Hanwool didn't give Rain warning, but his movements were slow enough so that the escort could see when his hand was about to approach. Gently, with a practised touch, Hanwool laid his palm atop Rain's chest, on the left side of his sternum. The fabric of his shirt was thin, but Hanwool thought it wouldn't matter if the other was wearing layers because Rain's heart was beating hard. Maybe he was nervous because he was trying something new by allowing a client to touch him. If Hanwool was truly delusional, he'd think that Rain was just as excited as he was - but the former reason sounded more plausible.

Thump-Thump-Thump.

Pressing his hand into Rain's chest, Hanwool closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel. The beat was steady, even if it was faster than the resting rate, thumping away against his palm. He hadn't lied to Rain when he said it was like music - it was. A drum, a metronome, a bass guitar - that's how a heart that was alive sounded like. The music of a person's being. Hanwool's colleagues would laugh at him, if they ever found out that the doctor favoured a more artistic and poetic representation of the heart than a scientific, clinical one - but he didn't care, because it was the truth for him.

There were also no words to describe how relaxed Hanwool was, in this moment. He was quiet normally, but even moreso now as he focussed on the beat.

"Are you scared?" Hanwool finally asked Rain softly, noticing the quickened pace of the escort's heartbeat. He opened his eyes and stared deep into Rain's own. "I'm not here to hurt you. I meant when I said I just wanted to feel. You have a beautiful heartbeat." A smile stretched across the man's features. "I'm being weird again, right? Sorry." Rain tended to have that effect on him - make him lose all his brain cells. Hanwool was intelligent, but had a one-track mind when it came to the escort. He'd say he's not usually like this, but Rain wouldn't know that. They only ever met at The Playroom.

He didn't slide his hand down, even after he had felt Rain's heart. He left it there, lingering, knowing this might be the only rare time he'd ever get to touch the other.

#warun001 #look he's a creep but he's a smooth one xD #hope it's okay ksfjlksdfjas

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trashcanwithsprinkles · 1 month ago

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i can just imagine childe beating the abyss’ will down with a stick whenever it tried to make him take on a new form like it’s a particularly bad dog

genuinely unsure how to answer this ask because on the one hand yes, that's kinda funny and it would indeed be something like that had the abyss essentially come back to him time and time again like 'new form? 😳' and childe would've slapped it away like 'no!!!' like some sort of shitty spam email that lands on your regular inbox without fail, BUT

the abyss only wanted him to take on one form. in cyanide that form was the foul legacy, and to be frank childe did take it. he just refused to remain with that form. and also like- for it to have reached the 'haha the abyss is like an insistent dog' status, it would've had to have been-

not agonizing. like i get the joke but the process of rejecting the abyss' insistence on taking the FL form was not only a one-time process, but also like- nearly cost him his life. so uh.

yeah

#IF the abyss had then returned with a new form for him to take and then proceeded to do that again and again #over the course of a long-ass time #enough time for childe to get powerful enough not to nearly die everytime the abyss insisted he change clothes #then yeah it would've eventually devolved into that dynamic #but i do remember childe menioning how the abyss 'offers' you one (1) form #it's not a thing that's constantly trying to turn you into a different monster #more how durin and the melusines and elynas see the world differently #and so the abyss sees all things differently #and by being within it you sort of subject yourself to its reality. and if its reality has you in a different shape #that's where the problems come #but afaik the 'different' sight the melusines and elynas and durin have isn't one that shifts and changes #i may be wrong on that tho #for the purposes of cyanide it's a set reality #it's just not one that aligns with the normal reality and that's what causes problems #what nearly kills childe is finding a way to remain in the shape he was born in as the abyss is essentially dismembering him #and the FL transformation is him gaining enough power to dismember himself into the form the abyss wants #and then dismember himself again back into his usual human form #so it feels- odd; to think of it like childe beating the abyss with a stick like a bad dog #not that i don't see the humor of course #like i said i don't know how to answer this ask hahah

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skunkes · 5 months ago

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why doesn't talon like looking young?

dis was gonna be in the little lore write up but i still have to iron out many details surrounding it ➡️ connecting to my general vampire lore....anyway the answer is abuse at the hands of higher rank vampires and mortal men who sought out young "boys" just like him + also he already hated that he would never get to age bc people would treat him weird even before all that (as in, they'd just treat him like he was stupid because he looks so young)

#closest to the real thing without illusions. wont age or break (assumedly)#anonymous #skunk mail #(this is also where we find out talon Does break and his vampire Defect isn't just slow regeneration but also #Just Sometimes Not Healing At All)#and these ppl having that info was not the greatest outcome #he was fine with it at first before it started affecting his self image and before the physical injuries #now he has an eating disorder and hates his body and struggles with hygiene so that nobody will want him #thereee is something abt like idk i feel he maybe flip flops between liking his very aged appearance and hating it #bc on one hand its not the other body that was an Object its a new different lived in body with wrinkles and folds #but on the other hand it is an Extreme and also like‚ you know‚ the way trauma Ages you...#i cld see him still being frustrated bc this isn't just An Old Man‚ it's an old man from the result of a lot of turmoil #bc idk that talon wld actually look the way he does if he got to naturally age ykwim #bc it is the result of purposeful harming of health...if dis makes sense #like its still not enough he still didnt get to age normally it was traumatic aging‚ bc it's unhealthy for his vampire body and also bc of #the literal trauma

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serpentface · 4 months ago

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how is sex work perceived and treated - spiritually, legally, morally - in broad areas relevant to the white calf core cast? imperial wardi, the hills etc

Sex work is EXTREMELY stigmatized in Imperial Wardin, yet generally regarded as an element of society and a necessary function, not one to be eliminated. You'll occasionally find fringe groups decrying the presence of brothels as polluting elements upon cities, but they are minority figures- sex work is legal, generally accepted, and very common.

There are some exceptions- in most of the city-states, only sex work out of registered brothels is considered fully legal (independent sex workers are breaking the law in most city-states, though how much these laws are enforced varies heavily). All legally operating brothels must be officially registered, and are heavily taxed.

Prostitution of children is illegal, and this is one of VERY few protections for sex workers that is strongly enforced. But it should be clear that the societal definition of a child here does not match the contemporary- a person is generally considered an adult woman upon menarche (which is later on average due to poorer nutrition, but is still going to include a lot of like, 14 year olds). Boys are considered adults at the age of 16.

Forced prostitution is also illegal on paper, but this is poorly enforced. Even when not Outright forced, many sex workers are working as indentured laborers, or under prohibitive conditions where they have very little freedom of movement or legal ability to leave during the duration of their contracts.

Sex workers are an incredibly vulnerable, stigmatized social minority that have very few protections and are often subject to abuse.

The stigma against sex work surrounds the sex workers themselves. This is culturally justified and partly rooted in aspects of broader body taboo- receiving penetration = metaphysical vulnerability = openness to spiritual pollution, and they are considered to be heavily polluted by their line of work (regardless of whether or not a given person actually is receiving penetration on a regular basis- male sex workers who primarily have women as clients receive much the same treatment, the stigma here is fundamentally a form of bigotry, not something with a consistent internal logic).

In addition to concerns around penetration, the act of '''selling''' the body itself is seen as a polluting devaluation of the sacred body and using it to extreme excess. Sexuality and libido is societally valued, but in a framework of moderation- sex workers are seen as wildly out of moderation and are often ascribed qualities of an excessive libido by virtue of their line of work.

Sex workers are prohibited from entering most temples and participating in many public rites, justified in their ‘polluted’ status, under the assumption that it will de-purify the place and sully most rites. This serves to keep them isolated from key facets of social life and culture, and can leave many spiritually ostracized (most sex workers from within this cultural sphere are also going to believe in notions that they are spiritually polluted, with limited outlets to cleanse themselves).

There is one folk tradition that has developed to assuage some of these fears and the sense of isolation- an epithet to the Face Ganmache that translates literally to 'Mother of Whores' (a rather strong name that reclaims degrading slang in the original language as well), which watches over sex workers and their labors. This is wholly a folk tradition and not part of core dogma, and priests are self-appointed, mostly elderly former sex workers. They provide rites of purification and blessings for those denied access to temples, sometimes train themselves as midwives to assist in births (or abortions), and will help ensure deceased workers get proper funeral rites.

Generally, the concept of something being spiritually polluted translates to full avoidance of the person/place/thing involved, but these concerns are rarely applied to the Hiring of sex workers (ie they are spiritually polluted and highly impure and shouldn't enter temples but you, the client, are not affected by contact). While some people will try to provide logical explanations for why hiring a sex worker is not polluting, this does not have any true underlying logic and is a product of a society that both reviles sex workers and desires their labor.

They are generally expected to visually identify themselves as sex workers at all times- the exact details vary by city-state, but wearing hair unbraided and an uncovered head in public is most common (particularly in the west of the region).

Male sex workers are denied certain rights otherwise available by default to men (self-legal representation, ability to own land that is not gifted, etc). Female sex workers do not have these rights to begin with, and have even more difficulty than other women in finding legal representation, given that they situationally rarely have fathers/husbands/male family members willing to support them.

Because of their inability to represent themselves in court and the difficulty in finding representation, they often have little to no recourse against abuse or violations of their contracts. There are some lawyers who specialize in representing sex workers (fewer still who do this entirely out of benevolence for a vulnerable social class), but they are few and far between.

The majority of sex work is marketed towards male clients, and the majority of sex workers are women. Male sex workers are mostly young men who serve male clients, and will usually keep themselves beardless and not overtly masculine (while not distinctly effeminate either) to remain desirable targets for the sexual outlet of most men. (There is no concept of sexuality in this culture- if you are a man, you are a penetrative partner in sex and the gender of the receiving partner is of little concern. Younger men beneath you in social stature (in practice, these are almost always sex workers) are considered appropriate targets of male desire, and as such you have some men who would be considered heterosexual by contemporary standards having sex with other men). Male workers who primarily serve female clients tend to vary more in age and have less social restrictions on their appearance or masculine presentation.

Eunuch sex workers usually serve male clients, and are regarded as appropriate targets of male attraction regardless of their age (largely as they are seen as entirely incapable of performing penetrative roles, and conceptualized as de-gendered). Akoshos (those designated male who perform women's gender roles) sex workers are seen as uniquely predisposed to serve both male and female clients, as their gendered space is broadly conceptualized as dual-gendered (being physically capable of performing 'male' penetrative roles while living under women's social roles)

Hiring of sex workers is not considered infidelity and is entirely permissible to do while married, though women are often heavily discouraged from doing so (largely out of concerns of pregnancy, partly out of patriarchal control over women's sexual behavior). A woman who pays for sex work receives more scrutiny than is applied to men. It is not outright inappropriate, but can be considered indicative of an excessive libido or overmasculinization. Women are imagined as having naturally lower libidos than men, so behaviors that challenge this notion tend to be be noted.

The only circumstances in which hiring sex workers as a man attracts scrutiny is when it is deemed excessive, symptomatic of an uncontrolled libido. Men who hire male sex workers closer to their age and/or bearded will also attract scrutiny- while not outright Condemned, it's suspiciously out of the acceptable range for male desire (though will most often similarly be interpreted as an excessive, uncontrolled libido, ie you'll just fuck anything with a hole). Receiving penetration from a sex worker as a man is wholly condemned, as is seen as UNIQUELY violating, not only a severe deviance from male social roles, but at the hands of a stigmatized, polluted figure that is at the absolute bottom of the social ladder. This usually happens in secret and often involves paying the worker off for their silence.

The one major exception to stigma against sex workers is in the lemna courtesan tradition. Lemna are mostly unmarried women and/or akoshos who are very skilled trained performers who work as entertainers for wealthy clients. Their services are not sexual in nature, rather they sing, dance, act, play music, and recite poetry, and are skilled conversationalists that provide company for clients. Lemna usually operate out of elite brothels, but as separate services to the sex workers, and are in theory never available for sex work. Lemna providing sex work sometimes (though not frequently) occurs in practice, but it is always be presented as something they have not been Paid to do- their payment was for entertainment, and they will present it as a (almost always purely fantastical) situation that they have grown attracted to their client and are engaging in a romantic tryst.

Lemna courtesanship is long-established and a valued part of this culture's art and theater traditions, and they do not face the same stigma as sex workers, rather being seen as an elite class of performers. They do not exactly have a High place in society either (as unmarried civilian women and/or akoshos, they are notably lacking in social power), but the regard towards them is overall positive. The exemption to this stigma partially lies within the framework of body taboo (they do not explicitly 'sell' their bodies or directly engage in sex work), but is largely rooted in the esteem of their tradition rather than any coherent logic.

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Sex work has a much less significant, less complicated, and less intensely stigmatized place in the highlands, mostly due to its reduced presence. Most people are living in relatively small agricultural villages, or transiently as herders, so there are fewer opportunities for sex workers to operate on regular and official levels. The only places you can reliably find sex workers within the highlands are in small quasi-towns that crop up around land trade routes, or occasionally as traveling traders (usually offering material goods in addition to sex work services).

There’s also no intra-highlands currency system, so sex workers will usually be paid in goods, which in turn influences the cultural lens on sex work. Goods have direct, immediate utilitarian value that currency does not, and paying goods for service is most pragmatically done as a means of material practicality- forming alliances, acquiring farmhands, receiving the defensive or offensive service of warriors, etc, not for temporary gratification.

The fact that this cultural sphere is fairly egalitarian in terms of gender (though it has strongly enforced, separate gender roles for married men and women) also contributes to the comparative lack of stigma- part of the Imperial Wardi stigma against sex work is interwoven with misogyny (with women sex workers being the most degraded extent of femininity, and male sex workers taking on inappropriate, degraded feminine roles in providing sexual services). Women have equal overall societal power to men in the Hill Tribes cultural sphere, and things associated with femininity are not Themselves degrading (men seen as feminine are not shamed for femininity itself, rather in their specific failure to perform male gender roles- the distinction can be subtle but is very significant to how gender roles are approached).

Casual sex between unmarried men and women is fully accepted, somewhat seen as a hallmark of youth. However, married couples are expected to remain exclusively faithful to one another. This also goes a ways to discourage hiring of sex workers, which would be accepted grounds for a divorce and a mark of shame on the person who strayed.

While not excessively stigmatized, the views on sex work here is nowhere near Enlightened And Supportive either, it’s still seen as a highly degrading, unfortunate line of work. Sex workers are usually going to be unmarried women of marriageable age who could not (or would not) acquire a husband for one reason or another. They are women who failed in expected roles of marriage and becoming the manager of a family’s home and property, and have not even taken an esteemed, productive role for spinsters (usually physical labor in herding, farming, raiding) in favor of one that is considered ‘selling’ one’s body to provide useless, base services to desperate men. It's something that will usually be looked at as sad and unfortunate at best, or an absurd dereliction of duty at worst.

Male sex workers are virtually unheard of (within the highlands at least, there's cultural stereotypes of Wardi men being effeminate and predisposed to sex with men, so of course THEY'VE got male sex workers all over the fucking place), and the concept of a man operating as a sex worker would just seem absurd to most.

But the levels of social shame surrounding sex work are actually higher for the client in this cultural context- it’s suggestive that you either cannot afford to get a wife/do not have the requisite masculine skillset to be a husband, or otherwise that you’re so utterly incapable of getting laid that you have to go to great effort and barter for sex, a petty expense of valuable goods. It's both a foolish waste and in many ways a failure of expected male gender roles. Most men who hire the services of sex workers will keep it on the down low, or (if living near the borders) commute to Wardi towns or tradeways for access. It’s seen as an act of desperation, foolish, emasculating, and will generally be mocked and shamed.

I actually have a framework of a folktale that kind of demonstrates the cultural lens pre-established (no names for the characters or clans involved, it's supposed to be of the far northern Bict-Braíghnnas tribe). I'll put it under the cut:

One of the folktales describes a young woman who was strikingly beautiful and exceedingly clever. She was of the Bict-Braíghnnas, the lone daughter of a very small, very poor clan, consisting only of her immediate family and a few cousins. Her father had died young, and her younger brothers and cousins were malnourished and inexperienced, and could do little to protect or grow their meager herd of horses (they certainly could not afford cattle). She had to take on the role of the provider for herself and remained unmarried long past marriageable age, living day by day doing whatever she could to scrape by and keep her family afloat.

She became aware that the patriarch of her ruling clan had an eye for her, and he began approaching her in hopes of soliciting sex. At first, she always brushed him off. She found him repulsive, as he was foolish and greedy and rather ugly. But she started to see an opportunity in all this. It was a humiliating opportunity, but one she was willing to take.

The next time he approached, she pretended to consider his advances, but only if he should provide payment in turn- if she was as beautiful as he kept saying, and he was as wealthy as he kept bragging, wouldn't it be worth the price? He first offered her a sack of barley, but she laughed him off. He then offered her fine clothes, but she feigned insult, was she not already beautiful even in poor, worn rags? He then offered her a breeding pair of pheasants, and she pushed aside her shawl to expose her breasts, and sweetly asked if he Really could not do better, wealthy in cattle as he was. The man was now, quite clearly, hard in his trousers.

He finally relented to an obscene payment- he would go under his wife (the owner of his cattle)'s nose and give her an adult cow, in payment for having sex with him just once. This is a high price to pay, but she was gorgeous and he was rich in cattle and could afford to lose one (or two. or five. Maybe more.). She accepted his offer and had sex with him, and came away with her very first cow.

(Some tellings of this story go on a tangent here where she sneaks the cow right back into the man's fields under cover of darkness, to breed it with one of his bulls and begin forming her own herd)

Over the next several months, he started regularly approaching her for sex in exchange for cattle, until he had to start coming up with explanations to his wife as to where the missing cattle had gone- he first claimed they were given as gifts, then that some were stolen, inventing wild stories of great raids and declaring open conflict with the greatest rival to his clan, all as means of masking his dalliances. This skirmishing came at great cost to his own clan, but he was too foolish and weak-willed to stop.

The woman was meanwhile using her newfound and growing wealth in cattle to make connections and political moves, slowly establishing herself as a powerful figure and having many in her debt. Her brothers and cousins, finally well fed, grew tall and healthy and began to take on roles as herders, protectors, and raiders, with the assistance of more young men gained in alliance. All the while, she dutifully continued her paid trysts with the patriarch whenever he summoned her.

Eventually, the man had given her so many cattle (which had been bred in the meantime, and more had been acquired in trade and raids) that she had three times as many as he did. One day, she did not appear as expected. She had amassed great wealth for herself and her clan, and had been courting the unwed son of the patriarch’s rival clan. The son paid a hefty bride price for her, and they were wed on that day.

Now the wealthiest in cattle and the most powerful clan in the valley, the woman and her new husband ousted the weakened and disgraced former patriarch, becoming the new ruling clan of the Bict-Braíghnnas. The couple were wise and wealthy rulers, and their clan remains in power and rich in cattle to this day.

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The cultural outlook on sex work (among other things) is fairly well encapsulated here- the sex work itself is degrading, but this fits into common motifs of this cultural sphere’s folktales where the hero figure overcomes difficult and often degrading situations with wit and social skill, and ultimately rises above it. Note that as a (non-comedic) hero of this tale, she uses her sex work very intentionally and pragmatically for material gain and alongside many other measures to increase her standing. Also note that, when unmarried, she's specified as taking up practical labor roles, and ultimately acquires a husband and ends the story in the expected position as a wife.

The actions of the man who hired her are distinctly shameful. He is performing his role as a husband TERRIBLY- being unfaithful, completely mismanaging his wife’s herds and ultimately driving his clan out of power all in pursuit of petty lust. He is in part an exaggerated, cartoonish embodiment of the cultural perception of the clients of sex workers- desperate, foolishly lustful, and an overall failure as a man. Most hearing this story would find his role highly comedic, a powerful but stupid foe for the clever and pragmatic hero to overcome.

(Very minor side note: the detail of him being enthralled by her breasts is also meant to be comedic- breasts are not sexualized in this culture (women's hips/thighs/buttocks are what is typically seen as sexually attractive), and many women will be out topless on hot days without note being made of it (toplessness is culturally acceptable, exposing genitalia/buttocks is not). The notion of a man being out of his mind horny over the sight of a bare tit would register to listeners as excessively lustful in a humorous capacity)

While the focus of the story is ultimately more on the contrast of thrifty and foolish behaviors, it also functions as a discouragement of hiring sex workers, casting the loss of assets in trade for sex as a similarly foolish venture, degrading to the worker and humiliating to the client.

#VERY long post. Enjoy #The only main characters who have hired sex workers are Janeys and Brakul #Janeys exclusively goes for 'appropriate' targets (mostly being women or young beardless men). Which he is not actually attracted to.#And is a fucking terrible rude as shit client with his only redeeming quality being that he pays VERY well (largely with the #implication of keeping quiet about whatever he inevitably did to embarrass himself)#Brakul only does it occasionally and on the downlow and goes for people he actually IS attracted to (men closer to his age- which #generally will be workers who normally serve female clients). He is VERY ashamed that he does it to begin with but is at least #polite and businesslike about it. He fucks off the second its over. Sometimes he's like 'actually never mind' and pays and leaves #midway through. Literally just pulls out and sets down some money and dips. They'll never see him again.#Palo has never hired a sex worker but has kind of a unique relationship with the community. Growing up in a mercantile family #in a district with a lot of brothels- sex workers were kind of just part of the community. He still ascribes to most cultural beliefs #surrounding sex work and isn't like Enlightened about it but is much more inclined to treat sex workers like peers and with a degree #of respect normally afforded to any stranger.#One of the akoshos in his community (that he spent his childhood fascinated with) was a priestess to the Mother of Whores and a #genuinely kind (though VERY stern) old woman. Had a very cold hard gaze and rugged look and he was kind of scared of her #but one time when he was 12 he got bitten by a street dog and she gave him a blessing then and there so he wouldn't have to walk #all the way to a temple. Their blessings are not considered legit under standard practice (given they are not considered a legitimate #priesthood) but he felt a lot better afterwords.

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