#like just overt grief

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

which midnights song do you think is importantly to TTPD but not often in the conversation? (From your recent ask)

lol i hesitated answering this because it’s touchy but fuck it

With the caveat that I am NOT saying anything about its origin or inspiration so please don’t come after me for it because I am not platforming that conversation on main: BTTWS. The event or person that inspired it does not matter for the purposes of this answer or discussion, it’s the expression of grief that does, because grief is what drives TTPD.

The hollowed-out, desperate, all-consuming sadness of that song, the feeling of isolation and feeling alone in your pain, of wondering if there is something you could have done differently to change the timeline, is also the underpinning of TTPD.

I’ve said it several times on this blog, but no matter what inspired the song, the reason I think it’s on Midnights is because of the theme of grief and how it consumes you, and how it can leave you racked with guilt and rumination. (Tying in to all the other what-ifs on the album about sleepless nights.)

So no matter what triggers the grief, a sense of loss is what drives the decisions she makes in the stories in TTPD.

Obviously there are a lot of other songs that apply, and like I said in the post I linked earlier, all of Midnights feels like questions that TTPD answers, and all the songs figure on TTPD in some way.

[metacrisisdoctor]

there are multiple reasons that i think the popular fanon interpretation of tenrose where they were having sex in season two doesn't make any sense and is objectively wrong but really when i entertain the idea that they were having an explicitly sexual romantic relationship the way people think they were (and yet we never saw them kiss, never saw them even LEAN IN TO KISS) i get very frustrated because that's a completely different relationship than what we saw on screen and it doesn't make me feel validated at all.

their relationship is deep and romantic and valuable without the kissing, because it's walking this thin line, where we know they want to be together fully and are almost there, but haven't quite fully realized it, especially toward the end of season two.

but if they were kissing and having sex and it was meant to be some sort of secret from the audience? i find that insulting and half assed writing, which it's not. tenrose is a story about a love so deep you are afraid to approach it because it will take you down. it's about wanting everything and taking nothing because you're afraid of losing it again and how your own repression hurts you in the end because you lost anyway. that's why we never see them kiss in season two, not because rtd is a prude or because that was all off screen.

doomsday is so painful because toward the end of season two the doctor is embracing his feelings for rose. he was starting to open up to her- and then it was all snatched away before they could do all of the things they wanted to because those things weren't in the cards for them yet.

[k-nayee]

Fallen Hazbin Hotel i

wc: 3.3k a/n: this will be a slight au goes cause ngl i never really made it past episode 2💀

Traveler M.List

| Next

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The creation of your soul was unlike any other.

In the hallowed space where human souls were molded, Seraphim Sera worked beside the successor of Lucifer in the celestial sanctum dedicated to new life.

Though Emily had grown adept at forming souls over the eons, she still found herself studying Sera's technique with curiosity and deference.

This time, however, she noticed an unusual stillness in Sera. There was a hint of sorrow in her—deeper than any Emily had seen before.

The state of humanity weighed heavily on Sera's heart. It was something even the sacrifice of Jesus had not remedied.

Where she had hoped to see more unity and compassion, humanity continued to stumble.

Devoted to creation and guidance and yet here she was: moved to a grief that seemed to reach even her divine powers.

Without Sera's knowledge that sorrow imprinted itself on the soul she was forming.

As her fingertips hovered over the amorphous light, her unspoken worries and heartache transformed it, seeping into the essence she shaped.

You were different from the start—a rare blend of purity and compassion, a hope born from despair.

No other soul had quite the same resonance as yours. It was as if each fragment of light carried Sera's lingering wish for humanity's redemption.

Emily remained silent as she observed. For all the thousands of souls she had seen, none had been like this. She could sense Sera's guarded admiration as well.

Though Sera (ever the professional) did not show overt favoritism, there was a lingering gaze—a brief stillness, every time her eyes fell upon you.

And then, just as quickly, she'd retreat to her disciplined demeanor as though she could not allow herself the luxury of attachment.

Once your formation was complete, you were sent to Earth with no knowledge of the watchful presence behind your existence.

From the beginning the world proved to be harsh and unforgiving.

Abandoned as a child and abused by those who should have protected you, you were thrust into a life of struggle.

And yet in spite of it all no bitterness clouded your heart nor did hatred take root; instead you grew wise to life's difficulties, meeting each day with a kindness that was resolute.

Each act of goodwill, every kindness you extended, seemed to spark a subtle ripple effect—something that shaped the lives of others and sent positive changes flowing into places you couldn't see.

Having never grown hard or cynical to life, you were granted angelic ascension upon your death.

Upon your arrival Sera awaited you at the gates, a subtle smile softening her usually serious expression as she guided you to your new position before going off to her own responsibilities.

Life in Heaven felt nearly surreal.

Though the celestial realms were as awe-inspiring as they were vast, you felt a strange pang of loneliness among the hierarchy of angels—most of whom seemed untouched by the hardships you remembered from Earth.

Your days was spent in quiet work under higher-ranking overseers with often yourself as company in the towering halls of Heaven.

That was until you were summoned to Adam's chambers.

You had heard much about him from other angels beyond his legacy as the first man. He was someone who had a commanding presence—sharp wit.

But as you stood before him, despite his evident authority, he exuded an oddly modern charm—a confident, slightly arrogant air that might have been more suited to a CEO than an Archangel.

He looked you up and down, his piercing gaze sizing you up as if deciding whether he could work with you at all.

In those first weeks Adam had made his displeasure known. He rarely missed an opportunity to grumble about the favor he was doing for Sera.

You were a lower-ranking angel after all. And Adam made no secret of his annoyance over this fact. It was shown through your tasks.

They were menial at first: simple records and errand-like duties—which unbeknown to you, was actually ordered to test your resolve rather than develop skills.

He was meticulous and unyielding, a mentor who would not accept anything less than perfection and barely acknowledged your efforts even when they met his exacting standards.

But as the days weeks turned to months there were subtle changes. Sometimes he would sit back and watch you with a look that lingered a bit longer than he intended.

You'd catch him softening in brief moments when he thought you weren't watching with a slight curve of his mouth when you managed something especially well.

And over time his critiques mellowed into an almost playful teasing. The conversations once clipped and formal took on a different tone.

He would linger after giving you a task—recounting stories of the early days of humanity, speaking of his own creation and the burden of his role with a tone that almost resembled confession.

Then one day he invited you to walk with him in the gardens—an invitation that you knew wasn't extended to just anyone.

As you strolled among Heaven's flowering vines and ethereal fountains he casually asked about your Earthly experiences, or as he put it, the "domino effect" Sera mentioned in your file.

You told him of your life as a human and the trials you faced and the choice to meet the world with kindness despite its many hardships.

Then, for the first time ever, a full fledged smile graced his face. Its tenderness filled the stillness around you.

That unspoken bond grew. 

Even the other angels began to notice Adam's (in all his aloofness) distinct warmth that was reserved only for you.

He still carried himself with that familiar arrogance and exuded his usual authority, but his eyes softened when you were near.

His usual cutting words now had an underlying fondness that only the two of you fully understood.

You didn’t speak of it—didn’t dare name it. But when you were alone there was an undeniable closeness.

It went beyond his usual dismissive flirtations or occasional compliments. His hand would linger on yours a moment too long, his touch warm and grounding as he guided you through the grand halls.

You still felt the guarded edges around him even as he allowed this closeness. Almost as if he were keeping a part of himself hidden.

Though you yearned to know more, knowing the gentleness Adam has for you was reserved for no one else made up for it.

For now that was enough.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

The revelation came upon you like a sudden storm.

It seemed ordinary enough—one of those rare quiet days where Heaven’s peace felt genuine and untouched by schemes or whispers of unrest.

You had been looking for Adam, searching the grand halls where he often spent his time in secluded contemplation or strategy.

Upon entering his quarters you stumbled upon a series of records and texts you hadn’t seen before—drawings, schematics, plans filled with the details of an endeavor you could hardly comprehend at first.

Shock locked you in place as your eyes darted over the pages, the full picture beginning to take shape.

Adam was planning to eradicate all of Hell in a brutal purge. His intentions scrawled out plainly with plans to make it a bi-annual devastation.

His motivations seemed focused—almost obsessive: he desire to destroy Lucifer for corrupting both his wives and damning humanity to sin.

The righteousness of it felt  sinister in a way that clashed with everything Heaven should represent.

It was the sound of footsteps that pulled you from your horrified trance. You look up, catching Adam’s steely gaze as he entered the room.

He stilled, his eyes narrowing as his lips twist into a brief condescending smile before disappearing just as quick. “Eavesdropping now are we?”

“What...is all of this?” your voice shaky but resolute. There was no hiding your distress nor the raw betrayal evident in your tone.

He watched you carefully, his silence stretched painfully long with each passing second drawing his gaze sharper.

“It’s necessary,” he finally replied, each word precise and calculated. “You of all people should understand that.”

You shook your head with disbelief flashing in your eyes. “Necessary? Adam you’re talking about genocide. A-an endless cycle of destruction! How can you say this is the right thing?”

His expression darkened.

“This is for the greater good. Lucifer’s actions have damned humanity, cast shadows over Heaven itself.” Irritation seeped into his voice. “The world would be purer without his influence infecting it, without Hell festering beneath.”

The certainty in his tone left no room for negotiation and you felt the depth of the chasm between you.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “I can’t be a part of this Adam. I...I won’t.”

He watched you as a flicker of something like disappointment shined in his eyes, though it quickly cooled to an unnerving calm.

“Perhaps you’re just not seeing the full picture,” his voice smoothed as if he were offering comfort. “Meet me at our usual spot. I’ll explain everything. Trust me.”

There was a note of gentleness in his words, a familiar echo of the kindness you’d come to know.

Against the shadow of doubt that churned in your chest, you wanted to believe him. You wanted to think that somehow there was something you’d misunderstood.

And so you went to the place that had become yours over the years—a quiet grove within Heaven’s gardens where the two of you spent your time together.

The serenity of it now felt almost mocking.

As you waited you searched for a sense of reassurance, for the feeling that this was all some awful misunderstanding.

That Adam would arrive, put a hand on your shoulder, and explain everything away.

But instead when Adam appeared, his presence felt cold—almost mechanical. There was no trace of the man who had once softened around you nor a lingering warmth in his gaze.

“Adam...” you began only for your words to die on your lips. He raised his hand, and suddenly you felt an unfamiliar pull.

It was as though gravity itself had turned against you. Your wings flared instinctively, but they were useless against the force drawing you downward.

Realization gripped you as you looked up; this wasn’t an explanation. This was a sentence.

Adam’s face was the last thing you saw before the Fall: a sharp tooth grin stretched across his lips.

He raised his hand in a mock salute, almost playful as if he were bidding farewell to an old friend rather than sending you into damnation.

That look—that chillingly gleeful expression was imprinted itself in your mind; searing a deep wound of betrayal that would never fully heal.

Your voice caught in your throat, eyes wide with disbelief as you fell. He hadn’t wavered. Didn't hesitate.

The one who had been your confidante, who had once looked at you with something like love, has casted you down without so much as a flicker of remorse.

Tears escaped and scattered into the wind around you. Just as Heaven faded from sight, darkness fully enveloped you and your world went black.

.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

You plummet from Heaven like a comet; a streak of searing light tearing through the thick red skies of Hell.

Your form was enveloped in flames as you crashed down with a force that made the very ground tremble.

The impact was like a small explosion—flames erupting, leaving a crater scorched and steaming as debris scattered for yards around.

Slowly you regained consciousness, faint prickles of pain tingling at the edges of your senses.

Your entire body felt heavy. Every inch of your body throbbed with the reminder that you’d been ̶b̶̶e̶̶t̶̶r̶̶a̶̶y̶̶e̶̶d̶ casted down by the very person you trusted most.

Suddenly, you feel warmth pressing against your cheek. You blink, finding yourself face-to-face with a strange malformed creature—a bird if you could call it that.

It had way too many eyes that blinked in eerie unison with a beak far too sharp as it pecked at your face.

You instinctively swat it away with more force than you intended. The creature squawked in protest before flapping its leathery wings and vanishing into the smoky distance.

Looking around you find yourself lying in the center of a deep crater as steam rose from the ground. For a second your mind struggled to reconcile where you were.

Then realization crept in slowly along with a numb sort of disbelief. Hell. You were in Hell.

As you shifted to sit up, soft murmurs above made you snap your head upwards. There on the edges of the crater stood  gathering figures— Hell denizens that drawn to the commotion.

Sinners and demons, the curious and wicked souls damned to this place, they all watched you in curiosity.

That is until they caught sight of the faint remaining glow of your halo and pure white wings.

Their gazes turned alarmed before they scattered away in screeches and shrieks, stumbling and tripping over each other in their desperation to flee in the mistaken belief that your arrival was the start of an unexpected purge.

The silence that followed was almost jarring, leaving you alone in the crater as the echoes of their hurried footsteps faded into the distance.

Your body screamed in protest as you slowly rose to your feet.

You try to open your wings in attempt to take flight, but the moment you flexed them, a searing pain flared down your back making you clamp your wings shut with a wince.

It seems flying wasn't an option right now.

With painstaking effort you hobbled toward the crater’s edge, eyes fixed on the steep walls.

Your teeth grit from the pain when you reach out and grasped a jagged piece of rock jutting from the crater wall.

'Okay,' a grim look of determination cross your face. 'Guess I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.' 

.*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

With a weak but firm grip you grasped the edge of the crater, using every last ounce of strength to pull yourself up onto the cracked pavement.

A heaving gasp tore from your throat as you collapsed onto solid ground before scooting yourself away from the crater’s edge.

It had taken longer than you’d hoped, but you’d done it. You were out.

Lying back, you let your head fall against the pavement to stare up at the crimson-tinted sky above.

Clouds churned in dark ominous shades of red as a massive pentagram symbol loomed high above—it glowed sinisterly, slicing through the swirling clouds in sharp precise lines.

Hell’s “moon” hung beside it—a twisted scarred orb that looked as though it had been dragged from the depths of something far darker than night.

And even higher in the distance, just barely visible against the hellish skyline, was the faint shimmer of Heaven’s gate. A cruel and unreachable mirage.

You closed your eyes, letting out a long shuddering breath as you try to gather yourself before reluctantly forcing your exhausted body to move once more.

Just as you managed to stand a strange warmth flickered above your head. Your fingers reach up to touch your now sputtering halo.

The steady glow dimmed as it pulsed weakly—and before you could fully process it, the light extinguished altogether.

The once radiant halo fell and clattered to the ground with a hollow metallic ring.

You stared down at the cold dull metal lying lifelessly in the dust. Your legs buckled and you sank to your knees, reaching out with trembling fingers to pick it up.

The weight of it felt foreign now, devoid of the light and comfort it once radiated.

A sad hollow laugh bubbled up from your throat; a weak attempt to mask the sharp ache of loss.

“...and it was such a good reading light to use,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper.

The familiar warmth of Heaven was gone and replaced by an oppressive heat that clung to you as the air around filled with the bitter scent of sulfur.

The betrayal, the Fall, and now your halo—each piece hammered at your heart, leaving you grasping at the edges of your composure as the weight of this new reality pressed in on you.

Fortunately you didn’t have time to dwell on it for long. 

“Hello!” A voice cuts through the stillness.

Startled, you look up to see a young girl standing at the edge of the abandoned street, her bright eyes wide with wonder.

She was small, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders as she wore a frilly red dress that looked almost too pristine for a place like Hell

She moved before you could process her intentions, darting toward you with surprising speed.

You instinctively opened your arms, catching her as she flinged herself into your embrace with childlike trust.

Her weight was slight with a warmth to her that felt strangely comforting. She nestled against your side, tiny hands exploring your feathers as her eyes sparkled with awe.

“Oh wow!” she squealed, brushing her fingers lightly over the downy feathers of your wings that had unconsciously curled around her as if to shield her from the world. “Your wings are so pretty! They look kinda like my dad’s!”

You blinked, still processing the fact that a child was not only here in Hell but clinging to you like you were an old friend.

Her innocent curiosity and lack of fear threw you off guard. For a moment faint memories of the children you had in your human life resurfaced and a bittersweet warmth filled your chest.

“Who might you be little one?"

The girl looked up at you with a giggle, eyes wide with innocence. "My name's Charlie, Charlie Magne!"

You couldn't help but smile. She reminded you of them in a way—of the tenderness you’d once known.

"And why are you out here alone?” concern was heard in your words. It was dangerous even for a child who clearly belonged here.

“I just wanted to see if it was really an angel causing all the fuss. I overheard my dad talking about it and well...I got curious! So I snuck out and—bam! I found you!” She gave you a triumphant grin as if discovering you were her own special accomplishment.

“Your...dad?” you echo softly causing her to frantically nod.

“Charlotte!” A booming voice calls out sending a shiver down your spine. Charlie looked over her shoulder, her eyes lighting up even more.

“Oh! There he is!” she chirped. Wriggling out of your arms, she hops down and began waving enthusiastically in the direction of the voice. "Over here!”

You quickly got to your feet, bracing yourself as you saw him: Lucifer Morningstar—The King of Hell himself striding down the street with an air of authority.

His softened gaze was locked on Charlie as she ran to him. But the moment she pointed back at you and exclaimed, “Look Daddy! I made a new friend!” his expression shifted.

The smile he’d given her vanished and was replaced by something far darker. In a flash he was in front of you, his crimson eyes piercing through you like twin blades.

You barely blinked before you were slammed to the ground.

The impact stole the air from your lungs, you were left gasping as his weight pressed down on you, a foot planted firmly on your chest.

Charlie's pleads of Daddy stop! seemed distant, almost muffled as you struggled to catch your breath.

'Geez...What s up with this family and tackling?'

Your dry thought is interrupted by the cold bite of metal on your throat. The sharp blade is pressed against the skin of your neck making you give a wide-eye stare up at the man towering over you.

His expression hard and unforgiving with an air of suspicion around him.

"Who sent you to the land of the Damned?" 

[kafus]

i wont feel offended if you ignore this ask btw, i get that its asking something kind of personal! but can i ask what you mean by the internet treating DID as magical?

hi i actually enjoy DID questions don't worry LOL and i'm in the mood rn

when most people think about DID they are usually thinking about very overt cases with very distinct alters with vastly different personalities, different names, gender identities, etc. while this is a popular angle to imagine DID, overt cases like that are actually a pretty small percentage of what DID tends to look like. (of course, social media can push people's presentation to become more overt, which isn't fake/bad or anything, humans are social animals and the way we interact with each other can affect even our mental illnesses. additionally some people will become more overt after receiving therapy while they start communicating with alters for the first time. but my point is DID is not usually that strikingly obvious)

this popular perception also leaves out a lot of the rest of DID which falls in line with what people consider more "typical" disorders, PTSD symptoms galore, dissociation/dissociative amnesia, somatic pains and illness, comorbid conditions and physical disabilities. i think if people had more of an understanding of the non-alter parts of DID, it would ground the disorder a lot more and make it a lot less "magical" seeming.

but overall it all comes back to like... people not understanding that DID is just an extension of PTSD and other parts-based disorders. the same psychological process that makes PTSD/C-PTSD happen, BPD, etc, is what causes DID, it's just pushed to a far extreme due to when the trauma is experienced (very early childhood) and other factors surrounding that trauma, such as the length of time the trauma occurred over, or whether or not the child had stable caregivers and/or relief from traumatic events. DID is not some sort of completely separate category of mental illness - alters (the DID definition of them) may be unique to DID, but they come from the same place a ton of other mental illnesses do and there's a ton of overlapping symptoms between DID and pretty much every disorder caused by trauma.

i often see people act like DID is some far off life experience they couldn't even fathom or imagine living with, but if anyone just actually explained this shit properly i'm pretty sure most people, especially traumatized people, would go "oh that makes sense" and not feel so estranged from it lol. it's really frustrating because people continuing to see DID as this sort of magical, far-off experience, takes the disability/disorder out of it in conversation about it (people can only ever seem to talk about alters) and it also usually ends up spreading misinformation at the same time. there's sooo much bullshit about DID out there. good grief. it even hurts other people with trauma-based conditions that aren't DID

edit: wait also btw OSDD-1 is included in this conversation, i'm just using DID as shorthand instead of typing DID/OSDD every time and i am personally diagnosed with DID so lol

[anthurak]

So here’s a few general theories I’ve got on both Eve and Roo, their role in the story, as well as at least one rather bonkers theory on how they/she are connected to Charlie.

Which means to begin with, we’re going to make the entirely logical step to talk about Rosie.

Because as I said in a couple posts after the finale, I think Rosie is actually Eve.

Or rather, as I now think, Rosie is an ASPECT of Eve.

To begin with, just about everything Rosie does with Charlie in Episode 7 to me just kinda SCREAMS ‘I’m actually a mysterious relative/family friend you never knew about.’ From the way she immediately goes massively out of her way to help Charlie, not just with the more overt problem of the impending extermination, but also her more personal relationship problems, not to mention little touches like how she insists on Charlie calling her ‘auntie’. As well as making a number of small references that could very easily be more direct foreshadowing:

Rosie’s whole ‘first husband’ comment could easily be a dig at Adam, plus her being a cannibal would make for a pretty clever callback to the visual joke of Adam eating ribs in the first episode.

We also have Rosie’s talk with Charlie about her problems with Vaggie, which feel especially relevant in light of the reveal that Eve seems to have had some kind of romance with Lucifer and Lilith. Rosie’s comments to Charlie clearly hint that she has her own regrets towards a failed relationship, which if she is Eve could easily hint at whatever went down between her, Lilith and Lucifer. Not to mention, given the CLEAR parallels that Charlie and Vaggie have to Lucifer and Lilith, it would be all too fitting if it turned out that Eve was the one helping to mend their relationship.

There’s also one other visual detail about Rosie… but more on that later.

So how does this tie back to Roo?

Well you know how I said I think Rosie is an aspect or part of Eve?

I think Roo is the OTHER part of Eve.

As in, I think that Roo and Rosie (hey, look at those similar names) are each the two parts of Eve that split apart when she became the ‘Root of All Evil’.

When you get down to it, I think Roo as a character and her role in the story as a whole is to be a subversive exploration of the idea of the scapegoat and Christian ideas/fixation on guilt and penance. Roo might actually BE this big, terrible ‘Root of All Evil’, ‘Embodiment of Sin��, ‘Unfettered Force of Chaos’, ‘Heart of Hell itself’ ultimate big-bad of the show that much of the fandom is assuming…

But only because she/Eve chose this role out of her own guilt and self-loathing. Eve only believes that she’s this terrible, irredeemable person at the root of all the evils of mankind, and has thus chosen to embody that.

And I think in the process of becoming Roo, this being of pure evil, Eve tried (emphasis on tried) to split off all the ‘good’ within her. Which in turn became Rosie. Alternatively, Rosie could have been deliberately split off from Roo to act as her agent, but may have become self-aware enough that she’s trying to stop/save Roo, hence her going out of her way to help Charlie. And of course this would also neatly explain her friendship with Alastor, himself likely also an agent of Roo.

Which in turn is going to be the crux of her conflict with Charlie, and the ultimate villain redemption of the story. Like of course we’re going to find out about Roo’s big, terrible villainous plots to perhaps corrupt humanity or subsume all of Hell or destroy Heaven and how she’s likely the one pulling Alastor’s strings and has maybe had him essentially ‘feeding her’ Overlords to increase her power and how she’s likely the cause of Lilith’s disappearing seven years ago and ending up in Heaven and all kinds of other things our heroes will have to fight against.

Until we get to our big, final confrontation with Roo and both we and Charlie discover that this terrible being of pure evil is in fact this traumatized, grief-stricken woman utterly consumed by guilt and self-loathing. The one person who, more than anyone else, NEEDS the help and redemption that Charlie has spent the whole show trying to offer others.

And also might be Charlie’s other mom.

Yeah, it’s bonkers theory time :D

So back during the rough… twenty to thirty minutes or so between finishing Episode 7 and seeing the post-credits scene in Episode 8, I was VERY sure that Rosie was actually Lilith in disguise (as you can see from this rather amusing post/reblog :D), for basically all the reason I listed above about why Rosie feels like an in-disguise Eve,

But ALSO because of Rosie’s cheek blush-marks that look CURIOUSLY SIMILAR to Charlie’s own. And if you’ve read any of my numerous Rosebird Parents theory posts, you can imagine I immediately latched onto that.

However! This is NOT a theory that Eve is somehow Charlie’s ‘real mom’. That is stupid and I will not hear Lilith slander in this house. Note instead that I said that Eve might be Charlie’s OTHER mom…

Basically I think Charlie has three parents thanks to Lucifer, Lilith and Eve each actually being some variety of functionally intersex due to wacky angel/demon/primordial-human physiology. And the three of them conceived Charlie Gilgamesh-style via Lilith and Eve knocking up Lucifer.

Hey, I want this show to get WEIRD, okay?

Even just speaking generally, we’re already got more or less soft-confirmation that SOMETHING was going on between Eve, Lilith and Lucifer, and that Eve seemed to have specifically left Adam for Lucifer and Lilith. So I’d say it’s not at all a stretch to think that Lilith, Lucifer and Eve will turn out to be a tragic, broken polycule driven apart by each of their baggage and trauma.

Or that a major aspect of the show will end up being about Charlie (with Vaggie’s (and possibly Emily’s…) help) working to get her parents back together.

In fact, I can already imagine what a suitably cute/heartwarming/feelsy reunion Eve could have with Lucifer and Lilith:

Eve, having just been freed from her self-imposed prison/punishment by Charlie, is about to launch into a guilt-and-regret-laden spiel about how she knows how they must hate her and how she doesn’t deserve them…

Only for Lucifer gives Eve a big cute hug.

And then Lilith gives Eve a Big Damn Kiss XD

Simply put, I think it’s pretty clear that Hazbin Hotel is NOT the kind of the show to just go and make a woman the source of all the evil and sin and bad of the world and seemingly the ultimate big bad and NOT examine, interrogate and SUBVERT THE EVERLIVING HELL out of that concept/trope.

[mourninglamby]

I remember that the first dsmp art of yours that I ever saw was an alliumduo comic of ranboo realizing that he trapped tommy in the prison... it was so haunting and was the first fancontent of the lore that made me go THIS IS AWESOME!! you definitely were one of the artists that made the dsmp feel like there was so much more to it and made me so much more invested 💕💕💕

I remembered this after seeing your new allium duo fanart, and i guess I wanted to ask what your thoughts on alliumduo nowadays are, compared to back when you made that comic, if u want to share. Lots of love! 💖

THANK YOUUU I still rly like that comic tbh .. as for my current day thoughts on c!alliumduo, I think they had so much potential as two teenagers traumatized by the same man but in different ways. C!tommy feeling protective of c!Ranboo when c!wilbur started to sink his hooks in vs. c!Ranboo yelling at c!sam for leaving him in the prison with c!dream…… idk I have a lot of love in my heart for their unspoken solidarity. I also think ranboo The Guy (despite all the many many many many issues with his characters’ story and overall execution) is so aware of the horrors c!tommy went thru (the whole “I think Tommy is just Scared��� thing). So this manifests in his character as sympathy for c!Tommy’s helplessness ….. c!Ranboo and c!tommy being so fearful but in starkly contrasting ways (prone to isolation vs prone to angry outbursts) and all the shit with c!clingy vs. c!bee…….. still coming out of it with strong mutual affection and assurance … idk. It feels hopeful in the realistic, messy way. The way that says “someone somewhere will understand you, in spite of the hurdles it takes to let them in.”

Also… C!ranboo helping c!dream in enderwalk to keep c!Tommy in the cell resulting in a canon death, vs c!tommy unknowingly helping c!wilbur essentially orchestrate a canon death for c!ranboo in ho16. They both have been used as tools in the machinations of their respective deaths. C!tommy doesn’t know about enderwalk. C!ranboo doesn’t know the intricacies of c!wilbur and c!dreams deep hooks in c!tommy. I mourn the fact that this was never addressed because i know in my soul that they would have understood each other in a more overt way had they talked about it. C!tommy’s strong loyalty and compassion and c!ranboos nurturing nature outweigh their grief.

I think it would have been beautiful to see victims who hurt each other in the thick of their abuse find solidarity in forgiveness. Not forgiveness for what happened to them, but for each other’s role as a puppet to the real perpetrators of their trauma. It would have helped get the story back on the trajectory of murdering c!dream and casting out c!wilbur, because if they had discussed things with each other and worked through their complex feelings, I KNOW they could have found the words to describe what they went through, and then hopefully take initiative to rally up enough support to take c!d and c!wil down. Sigh…… oh well. Maybe one day I’ll work on another comic about them. I still think it’s a story worth telling.

(Note: I used to see a lot of people use the phrase “trauma bond” to describe c!allium or c!clingy … while I understand what you want it to mean, this is an incorrect way to use this term. A trauma bond is formed between the abused and the abuser. Please read more about it here if you are confused! I really don’t want to see this term misused anymore. It’s very uncomfortable >_<)

[vechter]

ok. just read batman and robin: year one (2024) #1 and my initial takeaways:

this was thing that surprised me the most. it's only been three weeks since mary and john fell? and dick's out as robin already? he seems to have limited training but that could just be how he's being written as an eager and somewhat impulsive kid.

there's a part of me that is wondering if there is an element to this where dick is putting on an act, because we get a couple of references to the mask versus person debate:

bruce's narration is extremely well written, especially this part, where you can see just how much he understands the grief of being orphaned and how much of that grief and rage still drives you:

sidenote: the art is stellar!!! like just look at how beautiful gotham looks here. chris samnee killed it. it's exactly what i want out of a robin!dick comic.

like this is soooo good, even when it's just shadow and light contrast. truly outstanding art.

love the element of dick flipping around as he talks— it is very true to his character. also love how you can see the beginnings of how sharp and intuitive dick is.

beginnings of bruce and dick banter!! big fan of bruce already being aware and impressed with dick's comfort and ease at heights. a little bit of uncertainty about how much of this is dick's relative crime-fighting inexperience and how much of it is the unfamiliarity of fighting alongside bruce. like it has only been three weeks!!! very accelerated timeline. has he warmed up to bruce that fast?

waid's definitely not shying away from how they're new as a crime-fighting duo and it's going to take them a while to get to that seamless partnership we all know and love. just look at these:

bruce being so effusive with his praise for dick... yeah that's that good shit. plus, we're getting some insight into how much they're still learning each other. also the colour palette here is amazing. the tone complements the events itself soooo well. love how they're being juxtaposed against the light like that.

it'll take a while for them to find their footing! but you can already see how much bruce worries. the panel in caps, with that overt and expressive body language... yeah, i love it. listen, i love a bruce wayne who has only known dick grayson for three weeks and is already beginning to show signs that he's never going to be normal about him:

mixed feelings on two-face as their first rogue but i do trust waid to do it right. there's a bigger evil at play so i'm definitely intrigued. the art for harvey was amazing as well.

bruce smiling here... hmm. some mixed feelings about this too mostly bc of how the accelerated the timeline is. like dick has seen his parents killed, apprehended the killer, probably been updated about gotham and what kind of city it is... so for him to have this much optimism about the stakes. but at the same, he did meet bruce, a good man who took him in and brought him justice. and ultimately, he is a child so maybe that optimism isn't out of place.

possibly, waid is building up to the dark and light element of batman and robin? also, look at dick's sad n droopy lil face aw man

anyway, this seems like a really good expository issue. i'm definitely invested. there is a bit of tonal dissonance (between what is said and what is being depicted) but i'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt here. good, true-to-character writing (although the art is the biggest selling point for me)

[spot-the-antisemitism]

Smth I just don't get is just... why bother having Jewish blocklists, boycotts etc etc (like university protests to defund Israel institutions). Nowadays it seems anyone or anything with a remote positive (or even neutral) connection to Israel or anything Jewish in general is taboo and should be villanised, avoided and so on.

I'm aware that I myself have been blocked by a few fellow fandom blogs for my overt stance on the conflict, since I've reblogged posts on the surge of antisemitism.

So far I'm glad the Gravity Falls fandom at large has not reared its head towards the creator (who is Jewish, but he has not made any statements on the conflict), or the main characters who are also Jewish (but agnostic, as the creator adds). But I've also seen other fandoms who have rallied for the Palestine cause, or making fanart and so on and claiming fictional characters would be pro-Palestine

And also this instagram post, which is a fanart of Donnie from TMNT supporting Palestine in protest of the voice actor expressing support for Israel: https://www.instagram.com/p/C3oaBu6Bxj3/?igsh=cG1oYWxkY2VnZzRn&img_index=1

Orion don't let the fandomizers get you down

WE WELL OUTLIVE THEM

despair one of the many weapons the enemy

I understand your grief and it is valid

but you're not allowed to say "what's even the point"

The point is that this too shall pass and one day we'll laugh at this

[foggysirens]

thinking about luke (again) and lately my mind keeps getting dragged back to the moment in a new hope when he comes back to find the homestead burned and owen and beru gone- and how in that moment there’s not this great exclamation of grief from luke, but just a single look of devastation on his face and that always sends me down a spiral about grief because yeah- grief can be like that, especially giant, all-consuming, world-altering grief. no screaming at the sky. no tears. just silence. shock. and after that luke gets up and goes on to save the galaxy. but what really stops me- what i really keep coming back to- is just thinking about afterwards, after the second death star gets destroyed- how there must have been a moment where he just went ‘oh’ because where was he to go then? because that’s one of the things i think is so easy to overlook, because unlike leia with alderaan and how overt and obvious it is she can never go home, with luke and tatooine its quieter, more like one of those awful revelations that unfurl in your belly- because he could go back, but what to? and i think it’s from such an awful moment that we get this beautiful nature from within luke of wanting to build a home for others with his school and there is something about that, that idea of him really getting to turn the worst moment and feeling in his life into a mission to help others, that once again just endears me to him so through how absolutely human he is and i will never stop talking about it

[kevin-the-bruyne]

Ray's mother, music and the barriers to his heart that Sand must overcome

TW: discussion of suicide This is building upon the shorter meta I wrote here about the Micro song that plays during Ray's suicide scene. The parallels between Ray's arc in falling for Sand and Mew are so overt that I was completely overlooking the person that Sand is really up against in Ray's wounded heart and who, I believe Mew is ultimately a proxy for - his dead mother. I go into a little bit about how Sand's affection for Ray can sometimes read as familial here and I think it's quite readily noticeable how Ray acts very childlike around Sand with his puppy dog eyes and constant wheedling. One thing I do want to note is that Ray doesn't particularly come off as childlike in any of his other interactions either with his friends or in his conversation with P'Yo except for perhaps that first night when he got drunk and told his friends how much he loved them and during the suicide scene when he cries wrapped up in Mew's arms, distraught by how his mother never loved him. I think Ray is the epitome of someone with a deeply wounded inner child and the only way he can ask for love is as a child, somewhat helplessly and appealing to people's caretaker/protective nature. The parent child relationship between Sand and Ray comes up a few times through the episodes. The earliest explicit acknowledgement as far as I can tell is here at the end of episode 2:

There's another explicit nod as to how their dynamic is set up within Sand performing acts of service for Ray in Ep 3:

Sand says he has been Ray's driver, drinking buddy, shrink and chef. Three of those things - driving him around, cooking for him and providing him emotional support are not just familial activities but activities you would normally do for a young child. Sand pointedly leaves out that they've had sex from this list of services. And yes, that's because Sand doesn't view sex as a service and if it was just this then it would be hard to make the point that I'm trying to make which is that Sand needs to fulfill that parental attachment need that Ray craves; give him that type of no strings, unselfish kind of love before he will ever be able to gain Ray's trust enough to be able to build a romantic relationship with him. So how is the show making this point? That Sand is replacing not just Mew but Ray's dead mother in his heart? Well, let's start with the two things that Ray's mother has left him with: 1) music and 2) her alcoholism. Ray's friends were all very surprised when Ray volunteers to arrange the music for the party. While that was more about Ray's lack of interest in taking responsibility (His now in restrospect gut wrenching 'I'm only good for spending money' line from Ep1 like ouch) but it also indicates that none of them really know or connect with Ray over his music. How can they?

Music is such a deeply personal part of him, that's where he keeps the love he holds for his mother; the love that is entirely grief - painful in its vastness, beautiful in its consistency. And the first thing Sand tells him to do is be grateful for it - her good taste in music. The second thing? Is to show him how to enjoy it:

The fact that he's taking his hand and Ray is half resisting it, the silliness of the gesture more than the touch itself but he's undeniably enjoying himself - It reads to me like the awkward, stilted movements of a childperson who doesn't know how to move their limbs when they're first being taught how to do something. And when you realize that the song that Ray plays for Sand in ep2 is the same one that is playing when he's taken the pills - the positive associations that Sand is making with Micro in Ray's life suddenly becomes monumental. This happens twice more in the show. Once, in the car when Sand ditches his date to drive them to Ray's house where they engage in a delightful flirtation around it, Ray singing badly while Sand eats it up complains about it

And again, at the night of the party when Ray tells Sand to play Micro for him and Sand like the simp that he is serenades him with it:

But their connection over music doesn't stop at teaching Ray to cherish and honor his past - and unknowingly the pains that are attached to it. No, Sand goes further to expand it, help Ray find a space for himself in music, carve a corner of it that isn't only pain, isn't only that moment of seeing his mother laid flat on that floor with a whiskey glass inches from her fingers.

When music is such an integral part of Ray's personality how else does one interpret this scene other than Sand telling Ray to move on, when Sand plays Selina and Sirinya for him because finding new music he likes is Sand's happiness how else do I interpret it as anything other than Sand teaching Ray how to be happy? What am I supposed to do but pull out my own hair when they're connecting over music, looking at each other like this:

And Sand will do it AGAIN - as the ep5 preview suggests - take Ray's hand and teach him how to enjoy contemporary music while Ray makes his awkward, adorable face where he's having fun in spite of himself. And the sheer amount of joy that Sand gets in seeing Ray like this is just - they're so insufferable:

But perhaps the most surprising (and delightful!) of all is this:

Ray taking his headphone off, interrupting this magical moment of being with Sand and the music, telling him he wants to be close to nature and drink beer - for the very first time Ray desires alcohol not as a means to destroy himself but as a vehicle of peace and of connection and I haven't been well since seeing it and understanding what it means. In many ways, Ray's mother is such a tragic character. I know nothing of this woman other than the three seconds I have seen of her dead and the frightful way she has driven her son to follow in her footsteps, to feel so unloved and unwanted. And yet she named him Ray Pakorn (pakorn meaning sun) - a ray of sunshine. Perhaps even, her ray of sunshine.

How can I truly believe that she never loved him?

I know Ray tells Mew that she never held him but he loves her so dearly, wants to be with her so desperately, she permeates every moment of his life so thoroughly that the loneliness she left behind isn't a gaping emptiness but the festering carcass of a love so profound and full to bursting that Ray keeps trying to give it away, keeps trying to love his friends, keeps trying to save them and aches in the way that he finds no recipient for it.

People wonder what Sand sees in Ray, why he would fall for him. But Ray is a creature made entirely of love, soft still in the way he lets it rule his life, innocent in the way that he asks for it, precious in the way that he gives it away - How can Sand be anything but desperately in love with him?

[numberonecolinbridgertonlover]

What the Bridgerton character you relate to the most says about you (based on the show and my opinion) *mostly unserious edition*

Anthony - older sibling part one. That or you are the certified glue that holds your entire family together. Also, fake arse cynic, I know you want to be loved and cherished you’re just scared it will never last or no one will ever see you that way. Control freak but I get it.

Benedict - You are the personification of the quote about grief. (In case you don’t know which one I’m talking about: "How do you process grief? By running from it until it finds me in the middle of a sunny street on a beautiful day?") You have been running away from something your entire life, whether that be yourself or a feeling. Newsflash it’s gonna catch you one day. That said, you’re probably also lgbtq and camp.

Colin - gurrllll… read Benedict’s first and then come back here, you also need to hear that. You are a quote on quote pathological people pleaser. SAVIOUR COMPLEX. Girl, they’re not gonna love you even if you can bend the laws of nature for them. You’re naive, sensitive and desperate for someone, literally anyone to understand and care for you. Also, babes… you’re not unworthy of love, you just have imposters syndrome.

Daphne - I bet you loved watching Zoella in her prime. I also feel like you’re the sort of person that is constantly expecting/hoping to bump into the love of your life whenever you’re in public. You’re a hopeless romantic but I get it.

Eloise - You’re probably LGBTQ. You might have started out a feminist with the girl power quotes but have since delved deeper and have since been more radicalised. You probably struggle to connect with overt "femininity" for numerous reasons including the patriarchy and the media’s portrayal of women but you support all women regardless. Your fashion sense consists of baggy tops, jeans and jorts (RIP Eloise, you would’ve loved baggy clothes 😔) Do you own a carabiner? You’ve probably had a fuck arse bob era at some point in your life.

Francesca - girl I get it, I really do. I hate human civilisation as well. It’s loud, it’s overwhelming, it’s scary. You’ve felt like the odd one out everywhere you go and people always seem to pick up that despite how hard you try to hide it . You just want to live in peace, maybe with someone who understands you. That said, how’s that autism diagnosis coming along-

Gregory - You are the personification of that vine where the kid has a knife. ("What have you got there? A KNIFE. no-)

Hyacinth - I just know you’re funny asf. Haters hate to see you coming because they know you’re about to gag tf out of them.

Kate - older sibling part two, probably older sister. If not, just like with Anthony, the glue the holds the family together. You can stand up to haters but you can’t say no to your friends when you want to. Sometimes you’ve just got to bite the bullet and prioritise your own happiness girl.

Penelope - …where do I even begin? You were probably the person that everyone just unanimously decided they thought was weird or unapproachable and it has messed you up indefinitely. (That’s on them though girl, there is nothing wrong with you I promise 💋) Family issues. You have imagined getting revenge on everyone who has ever wronged you. Body issues (girl, you’re beautiful don’t let anyone tell you otherwise) Short.

Simon - Daddy issues daddy issues. Emotionally constipated. You can’t believe meaningless sex and substance abuse didn’t cure you.

Philip - You have anxiety.

John: Introvert™️ honestly just read Francesca’s you’re both in the same boat. You are not afraid to dip once the social battery has ran out and I respect that. You know how to set up boundaries. Though, I think you wonder sometimes if you have protected your peace a bit too much because your only friend is your pet or your mum let’s be honest—

Michaela: LGBTQ. And you’re right because she is beautiful- I bet you love the film Bottoms. Favourite artists include Chappell Roan, Renee Rapp. You like Bridgerton in a gay way (the women)

Violet: You’ve never quite gotten over that one relationship have you… you would love the song loml by Taylor Swift 😔✊.

Portia: I feel like you have been told one thing you’re entire life and you’ve kind of based your entire personality upon that only to realise when you have grown up and met new people that it’s all worthless and the very foundations of who you are are crumbling as we speak. But you look slay while it happens.

Lady Danbury: I bet you’re expecting me to tell you how much of a baddie you are… which you are but don’t pretend you’re not wearing a facade to ensure you never get hurt by anyone ever again.

Queen Charlotte: Alexa play right where you left me by Taylor Swift.

Brimsely: your gay situationship has messed you up.

[mononijikayu]

i wish— kamo choso.

He saw you both grow old together, each wrinkle etched into your faces telling stories of laughter, shared wisdom, and the occasional tears. Sitting together on a porch, watching the sun set into the ocean, you leaned against him, your hair silvered with age, eyes still bright with the love and fierce determination that defined you. There was satisfaction, there was acceptance. There was happiness.

Genre: Culling Games Arc to Shibuya Showdown Arc, 2018;

Warning/s: Emotional Trauma, Character Death, Angst, Romance, Kissing, Tragedy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Purging, Unresolved Tension, Inner Turmoil, Flashbacks, Love and Loss, Slow Burn, Closure, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Physical Touch, Mention of Death, Mention of Killing, Mention of Harm, Immortality, Emotional Support, Sibling Bond, Sacrifice, Supernatural Elements, Family Themes, Deep Conversations, Existential Themes, Magical Realism;

masterlist

listen: i wish by renee rapp

note: i disappeared because my internet died for a bit but i wrote this when i got service and got tagged into twitter posts about the new jjk leaks and cried so bad and wrote this. i'm posting this because im not suffering alone!!! i love you choso, you'll always be the best brother and human in the world :((((

YOU WERE A CHANGE OF PACE IN CHOSO’S LIFE. Within the enigmatic depths of the Tombs of the Star, Choso came to a profound realization about the nature of your existence. Here, amidst the swirling arcane energies that filled this sacred space, you existed in a symbiotic relationship with the very fabric of the universe. You shared a unique duality with your sibling, Tengen. You were so similar and yet so different — you fit together, almost like two sides of one coin. Choso had always believed his life, devoted entirely to the love and protection of his siblings, was an exceptional calling. Yet, encountering you, he began to see that he was not as unique as he had once thought. In fact, he considered that perhaps your dedication surpassed even his own.

Your immortality, though less celebrated than Tengen's, was just as essential. It underscored a truth often overlooked: what is an eternal life without a companion, without that shared blood and bond? Your unheralded but pivotal role sustained not just the life but the spirit of the Tombs through countless ages, making you an integral thread in the continuity of existence itself.

Your relationship with Tengen was unique, perhaps the only one they truly had. It was easy to see how it was a core part of your existence to serve Tengen. While Tengen wielded overt power, your own strength was in your subtle. Yours was gentle, tenderness — the care of a loving and devoted sibling.

Your days repeated the same. You often were the one reminding Tengen to sleep and rest. You often brought Tengen their meals. At times you sit days on end entertaining Tengen with conversation. At times you sang to them, songs so old that Choso could not make sense of the words anymore. Day in and day out, Choso saw how you lived for Tengen. How you breathe every day to keep Tengen. Choso had felt like he understood you in that sense. He was, after all, an older brother. What you did for Tengen, he had done for his siblings. He wanted to do it for Yuuji too. 

Yuki told him that you were the crucial component for maintaining the equilibrium of the world. Keeping you alive means keeping Tengen alive and well. Keeping you both alive and well means that Choso can also do well by Yuuji. That was all that mattered, he likes to think. And so, he took his task seriously. He was with you, day in and day out. Because if you didn’t exist, there is nothing for Tengen but lonesomeness. Choso didn’t know how Yuki knew all of this about you, but he thinks it's better not to ask. 

Days melded into each other under the starlit dome of the chamber, and in those seemingly fleeting moments, your bond with Choso deepened. Choso doesn’t really talk that much, he only did when people talked to him. But your words were often expressed. You often wander to dreams—whispers about what it might mean to live a truly human life, to age, to experience the mundane. You smiled each and every time, ever so warmly. In these moments, Choso is reminded how you truly are. He often gets reminded of his mother. You both have the same warmth, he thinks. 

By the tranquil pond fringed with burgeoning water lilies, you and Choso found yourselves in a peaceful reprieve from the routine duties that governed your immortal lives. The soft ripple of water under your fingers created gentle disturbances that set the floating blossoms adrift. Choso, often a man of few words, sat beside you, his gaze occasionally following the serene movements of the lilies.

"I don't think I'm doing enough for Tengen-sama," you whispered to him, your voice laced with uncertainty and a touch of despair.

"Why do you think so?" Choso asked, his features furrowing with concern as he raised an eyebrow at you.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your worries press down on you. "Tengen-sama seems so stressed lately. And I... I don't think I've done enough to help with it." The admission felt heavy on your tongue, a confession of perceived inadequacy. "But I don't think they need me. I don't think I'm powerful enough to... to help them the way they need me to."

Your words hung in the air, a testament to the inner conflict that had been gnawing at you. It wasn't just about being useful or fulfilling a role; it was about the fear of not being enough for someone who mattered immensely to you. The idea that perhaps your presence wasn't as vital as you hoped was a quiet torment that echoed the struggles you faced in your eternal existence beside Tengen. Choso watched you carefully, his expression softening as he processed your words.

“You know,” Choso began thoughtfully, choosing his words with care, “power isn't just about the ability to perform grandiose acts or wield visible strength. Sometimes, the truest form of power lies in our presence, in the steadfast support we offer.”

He paused, ensuring he had your full attention. “Tengen-sama carries burdens we can scarcely imagine, and while you may feel that your support isn't changing anything, it could very well be the anchor that keeps them steady. Being there, being constant—that's a power in its own right.”

Choso's voice was gentle yet firm, trying to uplift your spirits. “And remember, it’s not about being indispensable but about being present. You give them someone to rely on, someone who understands them deeply. That’s not a small thing.”

He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You might feel that you're not doing enough, but perhaps for Tengen-sama, your continued presence and your care are exactly what they need. It's easy to overlook the value of simply being there, especially when you are used to thinking in terms of more direct actions.”

Taking in his words, you nodded slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. The idea that your value might not always be measurable in the conventional senses of power and strength, but rather in less tangible, yet equally significant ways, offered a new perspective. Choso's reassurance provided a comforting reminder of your role and importance in Tengen's life—not as a savior or a hero, but as a consistent source of support and understanding.

"You always seem so thoughtful," you remarked, smiling as you continued to play with the water, sending another lily spinning gently. "Tell me, Choso, what is it that you hope for in life? Beyond our duties here, what dreams do you carry? What do you wish for?”

Choso looked at the water before him, his expression reflective. "My life... it's bound to my brother, Yuuji. I want to do right by him, protect him, and ensure he can live fully. In many ways, I live for him."

Your laughter, light and understanding, echoed softly around the pond. "I understand that more than you might think. My existence, too, seems entirely woven around Tengen. I live for them, through them almost." Your smile faded slightly into a more contemplative expression. "But do you ever wonder, Choso, if it's wrong to want something beyond that? To live a life that explores the world beyond just being someone's shadow?”

Choso turned to you, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "It's a difficult question. Duty and love bind us, but it's human to crave understanding of the world, to experience it in all its breadth."

"Yes, it is human," you agreed, picking a lily from the water and examining its intricate petals. "And sometimes, I find myself dreaming of a life where I can wander freely, see the worlds beyond these walls, learn and love and perhaps even make mistakes. Just live, not as an immortal bound to duty, but simply as a person."

Choso nodded slowly, his usual reticence giving way to a more engaged demeanor. "Those dreams... they're not wrong. They're part of what makes us more than just guardians or siblings. They make us whole. And perhaps, in dreaming, we find parts of ourselves that duty alone could never reveal."

Your eyes met his, and in that moment, a shared understanding passed between you. Both of you were bound by immense responsibilities, yet within each of you stirred the universal desire to experience life beyond the predefined roles you occupied.

"Maybe, one day, we will explore those dreams," you suggested softly, a hopeful tone threading through your words.

"Maybe," Choso agreed, a rare smile breaking across his face. "And perhaps, in exploring them, we'll bring something back that can enrich the lives we dedicate to those we protect."

The time you spent together in the secluded spaces of the Star Chamber, amid ancient enigmas and whispers of immortality, became sacred. As you shared your deepest dreams and quiet confessions, the bond between you and Choso deepened, moving beyond mere companionship to something richer and more profound. This connection, once unspoken and tentative, blossomed with the ease of a well-nurtured bloom into a tender love.

Amidst the echo of your laughter, which bubbled up like a clear spring in the tranquil silence, and his thoughtful nods, a rhythm developed—an unspoken language of understanding and empathy that only you two could comprehend. Choso, often so guarded and stoic, found in you a solace that allowed him to express thoughts and feelings that he typically cloistered away from the world.

One evening, as twilight draped its violet shroud over the chamber, you both found yourselves by the reflective pool that mirrored the ever-changing sky. The water's surface danced with the light of the first stars, mirroring the flicker of possibilities that your conversations had awakened.

“You know,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence, “I never imagined that someone could understand this part of my life. The part that’s tangled up in duty and care, yet also yearns for something more… something deeply personal.”

Choso looked at you, his usual reserve softened by the topic at hand. “I feel the same. We’re bound by our roles, our responsibilities to those we protect. But speaking to you about dreams, about life beyond our duties, it’s… it’s freeing.” His voice, usually so guarded, carried a hint of wonder, reflecting his own surprise at this newfound openness. “It feels….daring……and human.”

Your laughter, light and genuine, echoed around the natural alcove. “Freeing, yes, and a bit daring too. Being human, in this way — it's hard.”

He smiled, a rare, full smile that reached his eyes. “Daring, but worthwhile. To dream with you, it makes those dreams feel possible, as if they could be more than just whispers in the dark.”

“You make them feel possible for me too,” you admitted, allowing yourself to reflect on the emotional landscape that had unfolded between you. “Before this, my dreams felt like distant stars—beautiful but untouchable. Now, they seem closer, within reach.”

Choso reached out, his hand brushing against yours, a tentative but intentional touch. “Maybe that’s what happens when dreams are shared. They grow, they take on a life of their own. They become something we can both reach towards.”

The simplicity of the touch sent a warmth through you, grounding the moment in something tangible. “And I’m grateful for that. For you,” you added, your voice soft but earnest.

He nodded, his hand gently squeezing yours. “And I am grateful for you. For this peace we’ve found in each other, amidst all the chaos of our existences. It’s a rare gift.”

The serenity that you and Choso had cultivated, a rare respite from the endless cycle of duty and vigilance, was not destined to last. In the realms where celestial fates intertwined, peace was but a fleeting shadow, easily dispelled by the stirrings of chaos. Such disturbance came in the form of Kenjaku, a figure synonymous with disruption and disorder. His intrusion into the sacred confines of the Tombs of the Star was not just a breach of sanctuary; it was a direct assault on the balance you had sworn to uphold.

Kenjaku's arrival tore through the calm like a tempest, disrupting the harmony you had momentarily savored. His motives were clear and malignantly aligned against Tengen's continued influence and your protective stance. With the air crackling with tension and the fabric of reality bending under the weight of Kenjaku’s dark ambitions, you revealed a power kept hidden from the prying eyes of foes and allies alike.

Your mastery over temporal loops, a rare and intricate skill, allowed you to manipulate the threads of time. This ability was not about mere manipulation of moments; it was about reshaping events within confined bursts, creating pockets of altered realities where outcomes could be rewritten, and destinies briefly redirected.

As you confronted Kenjaku, your hands moved with deliberate motions, weaving invisible patterns in the air that pulled at the seams of time. With each gesture, you unraveled  the immediate future, crafting short sequences where different possibilities played out in rapid succession. This was not just a display of raw power but a strategic orchestration of time itself, bending the inevitable towards a reality where balance could be restored.

As Kenjaku's menacing form advanced, the air thick with the threat of destruction, you and Choso stood side by side, united against the looming chaos. The battle's intensity escalated rapidly, with the forces of disorder clashing against the shields of time and duty you both upheld. Yet, amidst the swirling energies and the relentless advance of Kenjaku, you caught sight of the peril that Choso was about to face—a risk you could never allow to come to fruition.

Choso, sensing your sudden shift in focus, turned to you, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "What are you planning?" he asked, his voice tight with worry. He had come to understand you well enough to know when you were about to make a critical decision.

"I need to protect you," you replied, your voice resolute yet heavy with the burden of what you were about to do. "I can create a time loop, a place where you can be safe, where none of this can touch you."

Choso's eyes widened, realization dawning. "No, wait—you can't! What about you? We fight together, remember? You can't just send me away, not like this."

You reached out, grasping his hand firmly, imparting a finality that was both reassuring and heartbreaking. "Listen to me, Choso. This isn’t just about fighting together; it's about ensuring that at least one of us can survive this, and can continue to make a difference. I can manage this, but I need to know you're safe."

"But sacrificing yourself isn't the answer!" Choso protested, his voice rising with emotion. "There has to be another way. We can wait for Yuki; she might have a solution."

"Waiting could be too late," you insisted, your eyes scanning the battlefield, where the fabric of reality seemed increasingly unstable. "I've made my decision. This is the only way I know you'll be truly safe."

With a heavy heart and a sense of urgency, you began the incantation, the ancient words of time magic flowing from your lips. Choso tried to pull away, to argue further, but the spell was already weaving its complex, protective lattice around him.

"I'm doing this because I care, Choso," you said, your voice softening. "In that loop, you'll have peace, and we'll have a lifetime together, even if it's not real. Please, live a full life there, for both of us."

As the last syllables of your spell wove through the air, reality for Choso began to shift, the edges of the present blurring as a new world, shaped by your heartfelt wishes, took form around him. The chaos of battle, the tension of impending doom—all melted away, replaced by the soothing tranquility of a life envisioned with love and hope.

In this carefully crafted reality, Choso found himself in an idyllic version of the world he knew, a place untouched by the scars of conflict or the weight of eternal duty. There, the sun seemed brighter, and the air held the fresh promise of peace. By his side was you, free from the constraints of your immortal obligations, embodying the life you both could have cherished together.

Together, you walked hand in hand towards the sea, the vast expanse of water stretching endlessly before you, its surface glinting under the sun like scattered diamonds. The scene was picturesque, almost too perfect, as if it had leaped from the pages of a forgotten fairytale where every ending was happy, and every heartache healed.

In this serene world, you both raised a family—a dream so distant in your real lives, now vividly alive in this temporal sanctuary. Yuuji and Tengen, often subjects of your protective instincts, appeared not as burdens to be guarded but as children laughing in the garden, playing with others who called you their parent. The simplicity of this life, the joyous normalcy, was a stark contrast to the complexities you had both known.

As years rolled by in this looped reality, unburdened by the passage of time as it would affect the mortal world, Choso experienced every stage of a shared human life. From the vigorous days of youth spent exploring the world with you, through the tender moments of raising children, to the serene acceptance of age, each phase was a gift—a series of moments wrapped in the warmth of enduring love.

He saw you both grow old together, each wrinkle etched into your faces telling stories of laughter, shared wisdom, and the occasional tears. Sitting together on a porch, watching the sun set into the ocean, you leaned against him, your hair silvered with age, eyes still bright with the love and fierce determination that defined you. There was satisfaction, there was acceptance. There was happiness.

Even as this life was but a fabrication, a temporal construct meant to protect and console, for Choso, it felt undeniably real. He lived each day fully, the memories etched into his heart as if they were carved from the very essence of life itself. 

And as the spell reached its inevitable conclusion, with the loop designed to eventually unwind, Choso was left with the imprint of a lifetime spent in blissful peace—a stark contrast to the destiny he had been plucked from, and a poignant reminder of what could have been. This was your final gift to him: not just safety, but a glimpse of a life filled with unbridled humanity. It was joy, love, and the fulfillment of dreams that the real world could never have accommodated.

"Remember me, and live well," were your final whispered words that echoed in the looping reality, even as you turned back to face Kenjaku alone, ready to sacrifice your chance at peace for the safety of the world and the brother you had come to love. 

Outside the time loop, the confrontation with Kenjaku intensified as you steeled yourself for the final stand. The environment crackled with volatile energy, the very air charged with the raw power of clashing wills. Kenjaku, recognizing the depth of your determination, halted his advance, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.

“You think to defy me with such feeble tricks?” Kenjaku’s voice was cold, dripping with disdain as he spoke. His stance was predatory, a hunter cornering his prey.

“You underestimate the power of sacrifice,” you replied, your voice steady despite the growing storm of power swirling around you. “This isn’t about tricks or defiance. It’s about protecting what matters.”

Kenjaku laughed, a sound devoid of any humor. “Sacrifice? You would throw away your eternal life, for what? These fleeting mortals? This doomed realm?”

“It’s because this realm and its people are worth fighting for,” you asserted, your resolve hardening. “You may crave power, Kenjaku, but you’ve forgotten the strength found in selflessness. I haven’t.”

“You’re a fool then,” Kenjaku sneered, stepping closer, the ground beneath his feet darkening with corrupt energy. “To throw away immortality for foolish mortals is the height of folly.”

“Perhaps,” you conceded, a sad smile playing on your lips as you prepared the final incantation. “But it’s my choice to make. And I choose them. I choose love and life, even if it’s not my own.”

With that declaration, you unleashed the full breadth of your temporal abilities. Time around Kenjaku began to distort, warping and weaving into complex patterns that ensnared him in an intricate loop of your making. His movements slowed as the layers of temporal magic constricted, binding him with chains stronger than any physical restraint.

Kenjaku roared in frustration, his voice echoing across the chamber as he struggled against the relentless force of your cursed technique. “You cannot hold me forever! You’ll break long before I do!”

“Maybe,” you whispered, feeling the strain of your powers consuming your essence. “But we’ll win, Kenjaku. One way or another.”

As the temporal bindings tightened, you felt your life force ebbing away, each moment drawing you closer to the end. With a final look at the world you were giving up, you poured the last of your energy into the spell, cementing it with the ultimate sacrifice.

“See you in another life, Choso.” you murmured, a tear tracing down your cheek as you faced the end with a quiet dignity. The last of your vision faded just as Kenjaku’s form started to battle against your power. You didn’t know if you’ll be successful in the end, but it didn’t matter. It bought time. It bought time for Tengen-sama to leave. It bought time for Yuki to come for Choso. It bought time for Choso. It was more than enough. That’s all that matters. “Tell me all about it then.”

In the quiet aftermath, the cacophony of battle faded, replaced by a resonant stillness that seemed to permeate the very walls of the Star Chamber. The ferocity that had surged through the area moments before now seemed like a distant echo, a turbulent memory overshadowed by the magnitude of your sacrifice. 

Choso, emerging from the temporal loop, was abruptly returned to a reality far grimmer than the one he had lived in his dream-like existence. The serene life he had known with you, filled with laughter, love, and the gentle aging of shared days, dissipated like mist at dawn. Yet, the weight of those memories clung to him, a tapestry of joy and sorrow woven into his being. Tears streamed down his face as the full impact of his loss, of the life that could never truly be, settled upon his shoulders.

Amidst his reeling senses, Yuki’s voice reached out to him, a tether pulling him back from the brink of despair. He could hear Kenjaku too, the sounds of struggle as the villain fought against the temporal bonds you had sacrificed yourself to forge. The air was thick with the aftermath of conflict, with the poignant heaviness of humanity—loss, grief, yearning, joy, love. These emotions, so deeply human, washed over him repeatedly, each wave a reminder of the life he had momentarily lived and lost.

Yet, Choso stood resolute amidst it all. He bore the weight of these emotions not just as remnants of a spell-crafted illusion, but as the real and enduring aspects of the human condition. He carried them because they were now part of him, imprinted on his soul by the experiences you had given him. And he carried them because that’s what you would have wanted. In bearing these memories, in allowing them to shape his path forward, he honored your sacrifice, turning profound loss into a source of unyielding strength.

That bleak winter day, as Shinjuku was engulfed in flames, Choso found himself at the precipice of his own demise. Engulfed in a brutal confrontation, he struggled valiantly to shield Yuuji from the malevolent Sukuna, whose dark intent was manifest in the fierce and unyielding fire around them. But as the flames consumed not only his physical form but also the last vestiges of his earthly bonds, Choso’s thoughts transcended the immediacy of his suffering.

His mind, resilient amid the encroaching shadows of death, wandered back to you and the ephemeral yet poignant life you had shared in the temporal loop. Those memories, vivid and tender, painted a stark contrast to the chaos that now surrounded him. Each recollection of laughter, shared secrets, and quiet evenings spent together in a world without fear or pain stoked a deep, calming warmth within him, distinct from the searing heat of the flames.

As his physical strength waned, the spiritual and emotional fortitude you instilled in him grew stronger. With each labored breath, the pain that racked his body seemed to diminish, overtaken by the growing serenity of his approaching end. The prospect of reuniting with you, of stepping beyond the veil of life into a realm where you awaited him, brought a profound peace—a solace he had yearned for since the wrenching moment of your departure.

Amidst the dance of the flames, where the heat scorched the air and the roar of the fire echoed the tumult of battle, Choso allowed himself a faint smile. It was a smile of acceptance, of readiness to transition from the tumult of his current existence to the peace that awaited with you. In that instant, amidst the devastation, his heart, burdened with loss and battened with duty, was finally ready to come home to you.

As the moment of departure drew near, Choso turned to Yuuji, who had been both a charge and a brother in arms. The words that passed between them were simple yet heavy with the weight of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. “Thank you, Yuji, for becoming my brother,” Choso said, his voice a hoarse whisper over the crackling of the fire.

Yuji, his own eyes reflecting the flames but alight with emotion, nodded solemnly, the bond between them unbroken even in the face of impending separation. “Thank you, Aniki,” Yuji replied, feeling the tears pour from his face. “Thank you.”

Choso thinks life is enough.

Even if it was only a little while.

He smiles one last time at Yuuji.

His wish was granted now and then.

It was all worth it to him in the end.

[apoptoses]

🚨 what do you think is the best and worst thing Armand ever did?

Oh anon strap in, this is gonna get heavy.

Disclaimer: this is my personal read, my own meta, everyone else is entitled to their own takes etc etc

We're gonna start with the worst: everything he did with Louis in iwtv.

Let me explain.

Something that is very common for survivors of trauma that was more psychological in nature and required betraying oneself in order to stay safe is to enter the fawn response. Aka people pleasing. Someone who has learned that they have to pretend to be someone else in order to keep others around them happy and keep themselves safe doesn't just shake that when the threat has ended. They then go on to feel as if they must do that in all future relationships in order to be loved and cared for, and if this goes unchecked then it can manifest into some really damaging behavior.

Things like lying about personal beliefs in order to tell the desired companion what the traumatized person thinks they want to hear, trying to control outcomes of certain situations in order for things to happen that they think will keep the desired companion with them. Someone who is people pleasing ends up saying "Yes I love the thing that you love" to one person, while saying deep down (or to another person) "I actually hate this thing so much".

And while it's understandable why someone who is people pleasing believes they have to act that way, it leads to their companion feeling manipulated when they find out that all the things that were said and done to 'please' them were untrue or done simply to control the situation and keep them around.

(And if it gets really out of control, subconscious behavior can become conscious acts of manipulation)

So with Louis we meet an Armand who says that he cares nothing for god, that if he met a mortal who inspired a lust for life in him once again he would turn that mortal immediately, that he would have turned Madeline himself. As readers we find out this isn't true later, that Armand struggles with his faith, that Armand would rather suffer anything than turn someone else into a vampire. But if we look at his words from a perspective of someone in a fawn response, he's saying those things because he believes that's what Louis needs to hear in order to accept his love and love him back.

And in more overt ways he forces Louis' hand with Madeline by using his influence, because Armand has decided it would be 'good' for Louis to turn her, that this will help him accept the loss of Claudia and come be with him. It's an act of controlling the situation to try to control for Armand's desired outcome (Louis loves me and will leave Claudia behind for me) but he's doing it under the people pleasing lie of 'this is what Louis needs, this is what will make him happy' when really it's about what will make Armand happy and safe. In that act subconscious fawning has become conscious manipulation.

While Armand's emotional detachment and lack of reaction to the burning of the theater and death of Denis is in many ways related to his self-admitted inability to feel anything at that time, there's also an aspect of fawning there: in order to people please one cannot offer their real feelings for fear of upsetting the companion. So really it just leads this situation where Louis doesn't know how Armand really feels about anything. He never shows Louis a moment of hurt or anger or outage, which we readers know he is capable of, because in order to feel safe and continue to 'please' he cannot let himself feel anything at all except that which his companion feels.

And that's why their relationship crumbles, because Louis is right: they cannot offer each other real love because Louis is mired in grief and Armand is incapable of being fully honest. He can't cultivate a true sense of self and show Louis that self because he's too swept in fawning for him and 'pleasing' him. Even when he and Louis break up he doesn't show his hurt, doesn't articulate having felt neglected. He just walks away, holds it all in, and fawns away his own feelings.

So that's why I think the best thing he did was that moment of sincerity with Daniel right before he turned him: admitting that he felt like a coward, and that he loved Daniel far too much to let him die.

In his explorations with Daniel Armand stops pleasing and swings to far other end of the spectrum for a time: he is so utterly absorbed in exploring the world and figuring out who he is and how he fits in that at times he doesn't consider Daniel's feelings much at all. But by the end of things when the running begins, he doesn't chase Daniel until Daniel calls for him. He becomes honest about his feelings and desires, despite the layers of shame he's heaped upon them. He stops detaching and fawning and gets real.

Which in the end is the key to him re-uniting with Louis and building a healthier relationship, creating his own home, opening the door to future reconciliation with Marius and having Daniel move back in with him. Armand had to learn to be himself fearlessly so that he would have genuine love to give.

[scoobydoodean]

The 13.04 fake family therapy scene may be regarded as the Dean lashes out in his pain scene, but it also shows Sam lashing out in his pain in a far less overt but genuinely very not okay way that will feel very familiar if you remember 2.02 "Everybody Loves A Clown".

It's the same Projecting My Unprocessed Grief Over Our Dead Parents™️ schtick from 2.02 when John died, but uglier, because Sam (granted in the spur of the moment) decides to try and involve third parties in his desperation to force Dean's reaction to their losses to take a certain shape—a shape Sam isn't afraid to fall into himself—something comforting—something that isn't painful to the point of the suicidal ideation Dean is experiencing. Something Sam can live with—live through.

Sam is afraid to feel all that raw grief because he sees what it looks like embodied in Dean, and it's terrifying to think he could fall into that kind of pain too... and a part of him wonders, if he let go and felt it, if he'd look even worse, because yet again he's the son with regrets.

2.02 Everybody Loves A Clown:

SAM You were right. DEAN About what? SAM About me and Dad. I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him. So you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late.

13.04 The Big Empty:

SAM Yeah, but at least you had a relationship with Mom. I mean, who would she always call? Who did she look to for everything? DEAN Okay. SAM You had something with her I never had! And now I’m just supposed to accept that I never will have it?

[saintsenara]

Also would love to know what you think of Lily/&Sirius as well! I can totally see the slight resentment on his part you mentioned but i loveee the letter Harry finds in DH. AND tell me your thoughts on jilypad bc I just need to dig your brain

thank you very much for the ask, pal!

i know this was prompted by me saying - while discussing jily - that my preferred version of lily and sirius' relationship is one in which sirius resents lily for stealing the love of his life [and i don't mean lupin!] away from him. so i think it's worth clarifying what i mean by this:

because i certainly don't think that sirius' resentment towards lily would be overt - i don't think he'd ever be openly hostile towards her, i don't think he'd do anything to undermine james and lily's relationship, and i don't think he'd ever be anything other than sincerely delighted that james was so happy. he evidently values the relationship he has with lily - enough to have kept her letters somewhere he could retrieve after his sojourn in azkaban [the most plausible date of the letter harry finds in deathly hallows is august 1981, which means that we know sirius wasn't living at grimmauld place when it was written. this is something he's stored deliberately, rather than something he had just lying around.] - and i don't propose that he was pretending.

what i think, instead, is that sirius' canonical tendency towards suffering and abiding would make him actively want to cheerlead jily's relationship. he's someone who clearly believes that it's honourable to make sacrifices and that his own happiness is subordinate to the greater good. and while this is all very noble, it's also an enormous - and somewhat toxic - burden for someone like lily to bear.

i like the idea of sirius - much like his narrative mirror, snape - having an extraordinarily idealised view of lily which the real lily struggles to live up to [which provides an interesting watsonian explanation for why he only mentions her once in canon - the doylist reason is just that the series needs to obscure lily's centrality to the mystery for as long as it can, but it's much more fun to imagine that sirius actually knows nothing about the version of lily he didn't construct in his head]. i also like the idea of him struggling constantly with guilt over how he secretly would like to see james and lily split up, so that he could comfort james with tender forehead kisses [and much, much more...]

when it comes to lilypad as something non-platonic, then, my preferred version of the ship is one in which sirius and lily end up together after she survives voldemort's attack [and is, therefore, able to exonerate sirius by revealing that wormtail was the secret keeper] as an extraordinarily unhealthy way of dealing with the earth-shattering weight of their mutual grief. this doesn't mean that i think it would be an abusive or toxic relationship - nor that it couldn't last - but that it would be a... strange and quite melancholy one, haunted constantly by james' ghost.

which means, i suppose, that it's also my preferred version of jilypad. i don't like it as a triad when it's just written as really happy and flawless [well-functioning polygamy takes introspection, and none of these three strike me as possessing that ability...], but i do like it as a mess.

[lysenfeu]

Devil in the Details •Part 2•

Captain John Prices makes a desperate decision and takes a huge risk to try and resolve his grief.

Rating: Mature

Eventual John Price x Reader

850k words, Slow Burn, Drabble/Short Form Writing

CW: Dark themes, Mentions of death, Grief, Supernatural events, Occultism, Demons, Corruption

(Part 1)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Price wastes no time, the moment he's home he lays the book out flat on his desk and studies the circle intently. His fingers trace over the black marks on the page, eyes poring over every splash of ink, no matter how small or smudged. Each line and symbol burning into his mind.

By the time he bothers to read the warning printed boldly beneath it, the words are meaningless. A hindrance only to someone who has something left to lose. It does nothing to quell his determination, this is no longer a choice he's making but an obligation. A duty he's been forced to accept by his own pride.

He gathers his supplies, the list is rather short but specific. Red chalk, a red candle, a small knife and a small red dish. He shoves his desk out of the way and rolls up the corner of the area rug, making room on the hardwood floor for his work.

He forces the small tremor out of his hands as he carefully marks out the symbols onto the floor with the chalk. There is no room for error in this, each stroke of the chalk must be exact. He must create the perfect replica of the sketch in the grimoire. He lights the candle and places a dab of hot, melted wax on each of the twelve star points. Careful not to disturb the chalk, he places the dish in the dead center of the circle. His nerves thrum in anticipation as he anxiously completes the last step, pricking the tip of his index finger with the knife, allowing a few drops of blood to splash down beneath him.

Finally, it's finished.

The circle crackles and hisses to life, the red outline illuminating itself as a cloud of smoke quickly rises from the centre.

He steps back, eyes wide with awe.

It worked.

~*~

It takes you a moment to recognize the tug behind your navel and the tickle at the back of your mind. It's been at least a decade or two since someone initiated your summoning ritual, you were starting to forget what it felt like. But now you can feel the magic pulling at you, beckoning to you through the newly forged connection. You let it carry you, twisting and turning your form through time and space as you have no choice but to answer the call.

Dark wisps of smoke curl out and flood the space before you as you rise from the centre of your circle. Small blue flames dance along the edges, lighting you with a flickering, dim glow as they spin and swirl in haphazard patterns.

As the haze slowly clears, you're able to take a better look at your surroundings. The room is a decent size, filled with dark wood furniture and leather accents. Small half-full bookshelves run along the wall, facing a large, well-worn leather sofa. An unusually tidy mahogany desk sits between them, shoved further back than usual based on the imprints left on the plush, wool area rug underneath. Not a single skull or a shred of velvet in the whole place.

Hm.

Not necessarily a worrisome sign, but odd nonetheless. The type who usually summon you tended to be more … overt in their interest in the occult, if not downright predictable. The kind of person who always used to break out the Ouija board at sleepovers and then grew up to spend too much time antiquing, looking for just the right candle holder. More crystals than sense, the lot of them.

You weren't especially fearsome, your abilities were far more subtle than most. You weren’t really suited for great acts of revenge or rampant bloodshed, anyone looking for an imposing or dreadful creature would be sorely disappointed with you. To be honest, you were more of a party trick. Your summoners really just wanted you to put on a show. So you would dazzle them with billowing pillars of brightly coloured smoke, making licks of fire dance before their eyes, a truly theatrical production. It was a simple routine: make a grand entrance, flash a little horn and tail, accept the offering, grant the favour, done.

Simple.

Quick.

Easy.

On the face of it at least.

Really though, that was the true fun of it.

They never suspected a thing.

With the smoke cleared, you take a moment and study the reason you're here, forcibly called to this time and place. A man stands before you, tense but still on the other side of your circle. He’s tall and broad, handsome in a rugged and weathered way. You note that he’s well-groomed in a utilitarian fashion, showing no hint of the usual flamboyance or flair you expect from your usual patrons. Interesting. Oh well.

Showtime.

“Tell me why I'm here, human.”

The man takes a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and meeting your eyes with a steady, even gaze.

“I need to make a deal.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Part 3)

A/N: Surpriiiise! *You're* the demon ehehe 😈