#maybe you liked certain clothes for gender reasons but someone else just likes wearing those clothes for fun. nothing is universal

[torchiiko]

is it just me or is it Weird that ppl will see someone being gnc or doing smth atypical for their gender & immediately jump to assuming theyll be trans & misgendering them by using their "future pronouns"

eg a guy talking abt how much he likes wearing feminine clothes & the comments being stuff like "give her time, shell figure it out <3" like ok. sure they Could transition later on but for now youre just misgendering them for no reason. not everyone is an egg & sometimes you do more harm than good by assuming they are

[biohorror-human]

Trans people may or may not have popped off with the "block every radfem you see" idea because holy shit. You are all some of the most pessimistic and spiteful fuckers on earth. You all claim not to be bio-essentialist, and then turn around and say shit that is, at its core bio-essentialist. All of your ideas, in some way, revolve around hurting someone else. Want to destroy the gender binary? Certainly attacking trans people will help. Want to destroy child marriage? Tell people not to marry brown people, just, ever. Want to destroy the patriarchy? (This is the best one) Never organize, never protest, never coordinate, just sit around and cultivate a nightmarishly toxic environment and then have the GALL to ask "why are people so open about their disdain for radical feminism?"

Because all your ideas are rooted in hate. The last time I've had discussions this fucking bleak with people is when I got into an argument with an actual self-described Nazi. Btw, I know you radfems are super exclusionary and refuse to cooperate with any other social group, but maybe Nazis would be up your alley? Considering they also have an affinity for eugenics and wanting to eliminate general swathes of the population, I think you'd be great for each other.

I mean, just to list some of the bullshit you people constantly say which doesn't line up with any of the other shit you say: "trans and GNC people destroying the gender binary (which is good because we radfems don't like the gender binary) is actually BAD now because we were using that gender binary to call all men oppressors, and now we have to actually confront what specific societal issues enable someone to be an oppressor, instead of just saying that being a man makes you an oppressor (which is bio-essentialism, which we disagree with, unless you're amab, in which case then bio-essentialism is actually something we super-agree with)

And that's just one of the ones that I actually went into the effort of tracking down. In terms of shit that I've just seen on a whim: you say you hate bio-essentialism, but also people born male are naturally more oppressive. You say women should have the freedom to do whatever they want, unless that "want" is dating men, because even if they're happy in their relationship, they're actually secretly sad and lying. Because since when did feminists hold the belief that women could understand their own emotions? Pretty clothes are also bad, because men like to look at clothes. Nevermind what the woman behind those clothes thinks, you shouldn't be able to enjoy anything for any reason because a man might look at it and also enjoy it for a split fucking second.

You know what that last one makes me think of? How abusive husbands tell their wives that they can't wear revealing clothes because it will attract the gaze of other men. But history is obviously not your forte, because if it was you'd understand that the only way social movements like feminism prosper is if they cooperate with other social movements, a concept you could really stand to learn a thing or two about. Another cool historical fact is that segregation is, historically, frowned upon. But I still see you talking about how white women shouldn't date brown men, and how asian women shouldn't date white men.

You know, they actually made a haven for people like you. And no, this isn't going to lead to a "Nazi Germany" bait and switch. It was a place where women could only marry into their own race. Where police were around every corner. Where women actively ratted out people betraying that law. Where women were literally not allowed outside past a certain time. It was South Africa under fucking apartheid. You believe, on a fundamental level, the same shit that traditionalists (nazis) and conservatives believe in. You make yourselves miserable as a form of protest, but because your circles are so exclusive, the only people there to witness your misery are other radical feminists. You're creating a hyper-dense misery sphere that doesn't even take that pain out on the patriarchy, only on other women. You have absolutely, undoubtedly got to be the worst rebels in the history of rebellion. You're literally making the patriarchy's job easier by pre-misery-ifying women. You're streamlining the misery process. I've never seen another social movement do that.

I think the only thing you guys actually accomplished was making men who cared or were curious about your movement equally miserable. You know what I got when I tried to join the radfem discussion? When I made the MISTAKE of trying to learn about your cause to better support it? I got fucking berated. you people finally had a man WILLINGLY come up to you to internalize your ideas. And you know what you chose to say to me? When I had a question, you mocked my voice. You compared me to an ogre, or a giant. You said women SHOULD be scared of me because of the way I was born. You said I was a natural-born rapist. You spoke about how my androgens made me develop into a beast- made me resent my own body, on top of how I already dissociated with it. You demonized any thought of sexuality, shot down any idea of body-positivity. And even then, even after all that I thought it may have been positive. I thought maybe it made me stronger, that maybe I was more like you because I was able to see the flaws in my own biology. Nah. You just wanted me to be miserable, like you. I was your willing punching bag for all of your anger and resentment. You're the femme-fascist matriarchs of self loathing. The only boiling bucket of crabs who not just drags the crabs trying to escape back in, but actively coaxes new crabs to join. You want a revenge story in a world where revenge only leads to more suffering. Your definition of equal is only met when every man is twice as miserable as you. That's not a world anyone, man or woman or anything else deserves to live in.

I have a bunch more shit to say but even thinking about you miserable fucks is starting to rub off on me. Fuck the patriarchy. Trans pride rules.

[feisaru]

Oooooo may I ask about 🫂 and 🎭 headcanons for Fei please?!

And if you're still up for more, than 👗 and 🧸 headcanons for Saru please and thank you! uwu///

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry this took so long, I had to think about it

🫂: a hc about friendship

WHOA buckle up this one's a tad bit personal. Him and Saru have been in a "friendship" until they were around 20 years old. Maybe they updated the label to "BEST friends" once, but that was the peak of it (still was a huge step for Saru) (and this made me remember a really bad shitpost scenario ft. my OC). That's when Saru went "haha if it weren't for him, I would be dead by now, might as well just-" and pulled his head out of his ass (this means "stopped being a coward" for those who don't know) and really said "I love you" for the first time without beating about the bush (The reason Fei didn't feel the need to confess before Saru is a topic for another time but here's a hint: it was not because he was afraid of rejection). The thing is, by that point they had been kissing (and everything else basically) in high frequency for a few years already. Most things you'd think are a couple thing, they probably had done already. Their Something, as I like to call it bc that's how Saru started thinking about it one day as well, just had no real label beyond friends (which to Saru is already a special thing, anyway). And they didn't even really feel the need to label it. It was beyond categorization. Their special Something. I'm relatively new to this label in particular, but I guess this goes in the direction of the QPR domain (label that's v dear to me also). Yeah so turning their weird little beautiful Something into an official relationship was in and of itself just a matter of formalities. Quite literally almost nothing changed after they became official partners. But they sure do enjoy telling each other they love each other from that point on. (This makes me wanna reread the other times I've talked about this... damn)

Okay all jokes aside, the real hc was, Zanark and Fei actually get on pretty well. Fei gets on with a lot of people, sure, but Zanark is not so into being friends with everyone and he likes Fei a lot. He thinks Fei is amazing for still being the way he is, for not caving in and letting all that happened weigh him down forever although life has evidently dealt him a bad hand. But he also thinks Fei should most definitely not be shouldering all the burden by himself. I and a friend of mine agreed that it would have been nice if Fei had gotten to structure his thoughts in a more personal talk with someone before the final match. You know, unpacked a bit about Everything that was racing through his head, stated his motivations to someone, made up his mind on some stuff. More explicitly and in more depth and length than canon allowed him to. And even tho Zanark is no expert at comforting, we both thought that Zanark would have liked to check up on him. And Fei would have not had such a hard time explaining some things to him because they are from the same time etc etc. So we roleplayed something that you can imagine as a scene that happened off-screen. It was very very nice I loved that

🎭: a hc about what they lie about

Hard one. Fei doesn't lie a lot. He really sucks at that, as Saru mentioned once. He downplays things or avoids talking about certain topics altogether instead. So even if that's technically cheating, I'll tell you about that instead. He has a tendency to downplay his own feelings and needs. He wants to look after everything and everyone as much as he can and he forgets that he deserves breaks and somebody looking after him too.

👗: a hc about their clothing style

HHHH lotta thoughts on this one actually. But I'mma control myself. Saru is half This Guy Has No Fashion Sense, half Extra. He only knows how to dress when he really wants to. He's gender non-conforming about it. The harder you tell him he shouldn't wear this or that, the harder he wears it. Because he runs on spite. He will wear it because he can, fuck your whole life heteronormativity. He has overly specific kinds of clothes that he feels good in. He loves wearing heels because he is like the dog on the counter that likes feeling Tall.

Okay, so I don't get carried away any more, here's sth more specific: in his generally tad bit less bold first 3-5 years post-CS, he always found himself returning to oversized hoodies and pullovers. There was a rather simple black one that he wore often.

🧸: a hc about their childhood

Hah this one's hard... because these are the thoughts I really only speak about once in a blue moon, even privately with the people closer to me. Let me try and find something that won't feel so exposing (for lack of a better word) in my head.

Once again a beta hc that may change in the future: I like to think that similarly to Fei's rabbit, he once owned a monkey plush. Basically from birth on. I have not yet made up my mind about what exactly happened to it, but whichever was its fate, it wasn't good. Saru quickly grew to be not very fond of it because of who he got it from and what it stood for, to lightly put it. The plush has experienced his beginner attempts at externalizing his inner pain.

Ask game from which this is from

[chaoticgremlinbrainspace]

idk if theres something wrong with me but I feel the deep seated urge to just study the bat family and their weird ass family dynamics/relationships with eachother and like make a huge chart with notes then work my way out from there to their friends and then their friends friends until I know the entire web of complex interlocking relationships and how different people interact with each other and their histories with each other and shit. like I want to dissect the dc charaters and I know the only reason my ass is here in the first place is bc I hyperfixated on nightwing then got invested (sobbing shittung dying nightwing is my lil dude I put into a hydraulic press so unfortunately he would take up so much brain realistate💀) I wanna write silly goofy lil stories featuring him but I also want to do other characters justice and have full context of events and stuff I will throw up if im ooc and or just fucking wrong about something. like theyre so funky I wanna do right by their charaters but ive also gripped dick by the throat and started projecting onto his guilt ridden ass.(eldest child moment yippeee disappointmenting my parents makes me explode :( also hes funky like that lol) but like genuinely want to be able to take existing relationships and just like idk go into it? like explore them I guess and how they interact, what makes a character tick and all that. theres just something about charaters that are so fun to pull apart and find who they are at their core, what makes them this charater, you know? and I feel like part of discovering that is understanding the connections and history of a character in relation to the setting and other charaters, how they react, how they think and feel when put into situations, shit like that I could rotate in my head for hours. im also an emo lil shit and my brain tends to fixate on the darker events and happenings, which can be a hindrance at times 💀. and like im also just one lil dude my Interpretation of those relationships and charaters could be comepletely different form someone else's due to my experiences or lack of experiences with certain stuff. and like I wanna do it justice I dont wanna should dumb or completely miss the point because that would suck ass, Especially if I ever did post it online it would be like being dragged through the city tied to a Honda civic or smth. or at least thats probably how it would feel lol. damn fear of failure and ridicule we meet again you assholes....anyway, I wanna write silly goofy lil stories for my own enjoyment but I want them to be good and accurate to the characters, maybe add small little head canons as a treat but. Domestic type shit or me projecting onto dick my fucking adhd and making him explode too lmao.(im very insane about that head canon ive thought about it a lot, shout out to middle school me for doing all that research instead of sleeping or doing homework your a real one lol). that and using dick as a vehicle to explore my own queerness in a sense because like, its fun, and probably less dangerous than walking around downtown by myself. like I really enjoy giving dick a funky gender that he cant quite label or name that just is, and it doesn't matter because he’s just rocking around kicking ass, he just happens to not be cishet in my heart and mind. that and I wanna draw him in fun outfits, my friends agree he dress like a lesbian(lesbian approved statement). and like yeah I just think its neat to heasdcanon him as queer, Especially the funky genders because hes just doing his own thing bhfdjknvl. this turned into me rambling about making dick gender queer in some fashion not to say that cis dudes cant wear traditionally seen as feminine clothing or anything ya’ll because fuck the notion of gendered clothing, I just mean like imagine like very loud outfits, patterns colors weird shapes and sizes. that and cursed thrift store shirts that say some shit like “oat sealed frog jar” with a picture of Freddy Mercury sitting on a bench wrong. with the like insane fonts. I guess I wanna throw dick in fits that you typically would associate with the chill queer alt people who have cool drip. idk man. anyway sorry to y’all reading this it kinda got outta hand there. 

[cipheramnesia]

Genuine question; how did you know you're a trans woman? I've been trying to figure out my gender for years now and i think i might be trans-fem but it's so hard to figure out and it's kinda scary

Everyone does it a bit differently so don't worry too much. Probably the biggest concerns are if you have somewhere safe to play around with gender, and someone supportive of you. It's something that's easier to figure out if you practice a bit, and also one of the reasons why trans people having better support networks has been so important.

I like to mention therapy up front, because that is a person whose job is theoretically supposed to be helping you figure your shit out, helping you figure out what you need, and coming up with some ways to at least work towards those needs. Theoretically, because the range of quality between therapists can also be wide. Not all therapists are experienced with trans people, and gender has enough diversity of range that not all therapists with trans experience would necessarily be aware of trans existing beyond a gender binary. So, finding a therapist is a bit of a process - it's a time and cost investment and for some people is the right solution, but be aware that you need to make sure your therapist has a good knowledge of what it's like with being trans. OK, so that's the whole mechanical thing done.

Two reasons I mention therapy up front is that when I was young that was just the done thing, and also I didn't transition with any kind of therapy aspect, so I feel compelled to note it based on my lack of experience. It wasn't for me - maybe for someone else?

For me, I had a pretty supportive friend group and a safe environment. I was able to spend a little time experimenting with gender and kind of living with the idea of myself as this or that. I think all told it was about a year of seeing myself as cis but just wearing "girl clothes" or some form of nonbinary, but for me specifically I only felt right as a woman. And there was a lot of agonizing and worries I worked through, like being sure I was never ever going to be trans, then being sure there was no possible way to go on HRT, talking it over with my wife, coming to terms with the possibility I'd be a bald lady. I was struggling with the potential of having to spend years living full time out before even having access to any medical transition (a former and current prerequisite in many countries), you know. For me, my mind was trying to come up with any reason NOT to be a trans woman.

Now I'm gonna pause here because it could all be different for someone else. Maybe someone is just a guy who like girl clothes (like the youtube girl month guy). Maybe someone explores messing with gender and discovers they like some or all or none and goes with agender or nonbinary or genderpunk or so forth. For me, these were ideas I explored but were not ones which, at those times or currently, fit who I am. For the future, who knows? Gender may be subject to change, terms and conditions apply.

OK so back to me. How I knew is like, I anguished my way through all these different ideas, and at a certain point I concluded, after examining and re-examining my own mind, I was a trans woman, just generally that what fit on me was woman, and I started working to undertake a medical transition, because I concluded that's what I wanted. And it was a relief. It was terrifying, because I made the decision to go for at the end of 2016, and started my transition in early 2017, and you can imagine how being trans felt at that time.

But for me, I think, what stands out among all the personal worries and political turmoil is that a certain point things just fit, and me being trans is one of the few things I never felt was a mistake. Which, admittedly there's like one percent of trans people that genuinely feel it was wrong and de-transition (maybe less tbh), but the majority of us are pretty happy with being trans, and I also think that's one of the signs that it's the right direction. It makes you happy when you get to experience being you, and the more you get to be yourself, the better you feel. Even if trans femme ends up not you, you're on the right track if something about moving away from being cis makes you feel more correct about yourself.

I like to call it "feeling correct" because everything else makes it seem like I was mistaken about being cis or unhappy about being cis or somehow me before transition was this trial and tribulation, which was not the case. In retrospect, absolutely I wish I'd know to start down the gender exploration road sooner, but the feeling that really cemented transitioning in my mind was seeing myself as a woman and everything about it feeling correct. It was just accurate, it was the shape in the world I felt like I fit.

The future, I don't know, maybe I'll keep changing. I doubt it right now, but I spent 35+ years pretty confident about being a cisgender guy. I was fairly lucky in my transition, it helped a lot. My hairloss worries ended up being inconsequential, HRT did a lot of impressive renovating to my shape, I got what I wanted out of transition by and large. I went with informed consent for HRT, only did therapy after starting and it was mostly "I know more about this than you."

However, if that all is pushed aside, I went forward with all this fully conscious that nothing I wanted to happen might happen, that if nothing but the bare minimum of transition happened for me, it was what felt like me regardless. I don't think it needs to be that certain either. Sometimes gender is like a feeling of overpowering need, but sometimes it's just like picking a soda flavor you now? It could be "I need this to live" or it could be "Hm, that looks nice." With me it was something that felt obvious as could be, and that's about how it stayed.

[endobiologist]

Trans Guy Tips #5; Dressing Good

Today, we're going to talk about basic fashion, and some things trans guys specifically need to know when buying a new wardrobe.

Some of these rules can always be broken, it's your body and your choice what to put on it!

However, this is a guide for passing better, so feminine and androgynous looks will not be covered here, only the traditional masculine. I will most likely make a guide out on dressing that way later.

1. Match colors, but don't be afraid to throw in some accent detail colors! Usually when you think of fashion, you think of making everything match, however some things will go better with some contrast rather than plainly matching!

As long as it still has some similarity, it doesn't have to be the same.

The most basic rule you need to learn dressing as a man, is that you wear your belt to your shoes.

If your belt is brown, so should your shoes be.

If your belt is black, they should be black.

Usually most fashion rules can be broken, but this one seems to be very important, as it can throw off the whole appearance of an outfit to have mismatching shoes and belt.

2. Use what I call the finger trick.

When selecting a shirt, specifically a dress shirt, put your fingers in the collar between your neck and the collar.

If you can comfortably fit two or even maybe barely three fingers in there, then that's a perfect fit shirt around your neck.

If you can fit four or more fingers, it's loose and will make you look baggy and overweight.

If you can fit only one, or feel any pressure on your throat, you need a looser shirt because it's too tight.

3. Somewhat similar, but when buying pants, this may be the most important thing of all.

If you get the right set of pants, it can disguise even the biggest of curves.

You want to get what's known as a straight-leg jean pant, you can make it a cargo pant if you wish, either one looks very masculine and good.

I would usually recommend bootcut pants if you wear longer shoes, like boots, or combat boots, or anything you need to tuck the jeans into.

Always get pants that don't feel constricting, and always get them where they fit comfortably with a belt, but don't need a belt due to fitting good already.

But straight-leg type is so important to go for, it's one of the things that makes a boxy figure like a cis man's.

4. I'm not sure if this is obvious or may come as a surprise to some people, but even if you like dressing femininely, if you wish to pass, I would suggest always shopping in the men's section.

They have shirts and pants and everything else under the sun that shaped specifically for men's bodies, making yours look even more like a cis man's, which is very gender affirming. Also women's jeans are made to support the butt and make you look feminine and curvy, while men's are designed to be straight, boxy, and comfortable, usually with deep pockets too!

5. Similar to the matching rule before, you can match a busy pattern shirt with a plain pair of pants, or busy pattern and pants with a plain shirt. However if you put too many busy patterns, or too much plainness, either way makes you look not as good.

Try to balance the detail with the simplicity.

6. Overall the most masculine thing you can wear especially pre-t, is either a formal or casual suit.

You can even wear just a dress shirt with a tie or bow tie, with some dress shoes and pants, and you're good!

This just generally makes you look super masculine and it's hard to mistake.

7. if you're like me, where you like to dress flamboyantly, but you're also super dysphoric about it, wait until you get testosterone therapy.

If you end up having it and you start seeing positive effects before dressing femininely, it's great!

I did this and now I feel totally comfortable with it, as no one ever misunderstands me even if I wear the most feminine things ever.

So if you're going on t, feel free to dress more extravagantly during because you will pass even so!

8. Another way to check shirts that are long sleeved, particularly dress shirts, is to tuck it in like usual, and then lift up your arms really high like you're reaching for something.

If it untucks or lifts the fabric in an unflattering way where your armpits look huge, it's cut wrong and is not something you should buy.

9. This may be surprising to some, but yes, cis men will wear feminine designs on masculine outfits.

I can't count the number of times I've seen men wearing bright pink suits. Other times there's been crop tops, painted nails, hair done, everything.

So if you really like that button up with the flowers on it, but are feeling hesitant due to the feeling that people might judge you, don't worry!

Maybe some will, but a lot of people wear unique clothing, and no one will be as bad as what your thoughts say to you.

10. I have somewhat of a warning, as good and fun they are, t-shirts can be very revealing when it comes to showing your chest, even through your binder! Something about them isn't cut quite right, even if they come from the manliest man's site or store.

If you still wish to wear t-shirts like I do, I would recommend getting a short-sleeved or long-sleeved Dickies button up jacket/shirt that you wear open over it. Or any jacket thing, really. This covers your chest completely and negates that effect.

11. This is sort of more hygiene base but still has to do with getting dressed. Always use men's soap, and men's cologne, and men's essential oils, and men's lotion, if you have them.

Also use some aftershave, it's helpful if it has lotion mixed in and moisturizes as well.

You can even shave even if you're pre-t, due to it making a clean feeling due to there being no feminine peach fuzz on it. This can help support dysphoria relief, as well because it feels like you're shaving a beard, at least until it comes in.

When your moustache and beard do come in from testosterone, if you take it, make sure to oil it lightly with natural oils like argan oil or coconut oil, the stimulates hair growth and follicle health.

And I would recommend shaving just once as it starts developing, so it develops thicker, stronger, and more handsome.

12. If you're planning on going on t, buy at least some of your clothing a size or a few sizes up, or getting a duplicate that's larger.

You will grow, so if you buy all your clothing in a smaller size, you'll probably end up unable to use any of it.

13. Always position your belt buckle in the center of your stomach, the way you can tell if it's positioned right is if it lines up with the buttons of your button up perfectly.

14. When wearing a suit try to always keep the bottomless button unbuttoned. That button isn't actually there to be used, it's meant to be unbuttoned and it makes it look so much better.

The reason it looks so much better is because it makes it flattering and thinning. If you button all the buttons, it will make you look heavy due to it tightening around your waist and stomach.

15. You should always have at least two pairs of dress shoes. one pair that's black, and one pair that's brown. Same with belts. It's also recommended for summer that you keep one pair of masculine flip flops or sandals or sneakers around.

16. This is more of a suggestion than anything, however it's manly as fuck, and people love it.

If you carry a work knife, a pocket watch, a small portable multitool, and a handkerchief.

Possibly even a pen and small notepad with you at all times.

This may seem odd at first, but it's what men used to do constantly in the older days.

These items can come in very useful. A work knife can open packages, open letters, be used in place of scissors occasionally, and even used to defend yourself and others.

A pocket watch is just fancy and shows you're always trying to be on time.

A multi-tool shows you're ready for any task, and it can be a lifesaver in many situations!

Meanwhile a handkerchief is important, because if you ever come across someone crying, or someone wounded, you can lend them or give them your handkerchief, which is a very gentlemanly thing to do, and it can help you pass better, as well as it just being a kind thing to do for someone.

The pen and small notepad is always good to carry on you regardless of any gender, due to you needing to write things down often.

17. Ironically, although socks with sandals seems to be a fashion 'no-no' to most people, I quite like them, and it seems like I pass better with them.

Men tend to wear those slip-on flip flop things, and when you wear socks with it it makes you look very masculine, even if it may look silly to some.

Personally I like it a lot.

18. If you do wish to do makeup & nails, I would suggest doing it as black and gothic as possible, as that's the most common style guys do it as, and if you do it in a certain way, it can come out looking way masculine.

And that concludes my fifth part of this Trans Guy Tips series!

Thank you for reading, and I hope anything I said helped!

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 6

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence, and a line that hints at past physical abuse (depending on how you choose to interpret it) Warnings: Mild TW for implied/referenced abuse Notes: Okay so this was supposed to be somewhat therapeutic? But it ended up taking longer to get to that part than I intended, so... Don't worry though, next chapter will be fluffy and also involve more, like, actual Daniela scenes. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2 Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco

Chapter 6: Elegy

(Elegy: A piece of music in the form of a lament)

When you dream, you do not dream of being locked in a tower, awaiting a kindly knight to come save you. When you dream… you dream of your old home, infested with monsters, nearly unrecognizable. Of being forced to flee, leaving everything you loved behind. Of escaping to a remote, quaint little village, only to end up trapped once again, as friendly faces morph into gaping maws and fangs dripping red. When you dream, it is less a nightmare, more memories retouched, covered in a fresh coat of paint.

Waking up is but a brief source of comfort. One hand goes to your head, rubbing gently, as if you could wipe away all traces of your past. A quick glance around your shared room leaves you confused, but serves as a welcome distraction. Though there are six beds in the room, yours is the only occupied one, the others having all been vacated and made presentable. The only explanation that fit with what you knew was that everyone had gotten up, and gotten to work, without waking you. Panic filled you as you connected the dots, knowing that missing work was a death sentence.

Rushing, you rise to your feet, throwing your dresser open to search for fresh clothes. While the castle’s staff was almost entirely female, the Dimitrescu family didn’t enforce traditional gender presentation, allowing maidens to choose whether to wear a dress or a button-up and trousers. Remembering the wound on your neck, you pause, glancing in the dorm’s singular mirror to inspect your injury. Most of the blood had rubbed off in your sleep (and would likely be a nightmare to clean from the sheets). There were, however, a few spots where dried blood mingled with the protective scab. Considering how late you already were, you didn’t believe you would have time to clean up.

As much as you hated the thought, the best you could do was go for a button-up, hoping the collar would hide the worst of your disastrous appearance. Your hair was another matter entirely, far messier than it normally was, and you struggled to brush/comb it enough to be mildly presentable. Good thing Daniela won’t see me today, you think, remembering her insistence on skipping today’s lesson.

Then you remember the rest of your conversation with her; the yelling, being dragged to your feet, and the pain in her eyes. For a moment you feel woozy, pausing in the middle of buttoning your shirt. Your eyes focus on a spot on the now-closed dresser… and suddenly you wish you had paid more attention when you first woke up. There’s a note stuck to the furniture, clearly addressed to you.

Heard you had some trouble yesterday. We’re just glad you’re alive! A certain someone has been a lot nicer since you started playing the piano, and we’re grateful. To show that, we decided to split your morning duties among ourselves, so you can sleep in. If you’re reading this, then it’s still before 4 AM. Feel free to just relax for a while, or even get some more sleep! We’ll be by to make sure you’re up eventually.

Sincerely,

Daphne, Rosalia, Ygritte, Alexandra, Juniper, and Riley

“I… have… freetime?” You mumbled, still a little drowsy, but now also shocked. This was a complete first for you. Maybe even a first among the servants! Sure, you had been given breaks before, but having a couple hours to do whatever you wanted? No one had ever pulled strings like this for you before. It made your chest feel warm, and you just about forgot the whole mess with Daniela. “I’ll have to find a way to pay them back, even if they think they’re paying me back.” With that said you relaxed a little, no longer rushing getting dressed, though still leaving your neck the way it was. You figured you’d stop by one of the maidens’ restrooms before you officially started your shift.

In the meantime, you knew exactly what you’d be using this time for: finding those damn piano books you had been promised!

-----------------------------------------

“Let’s see… dust, more dust, a dead spider, even more dust, and- oh shit, the spider is not dead,” you said, barely holding in a yelp as the arachnid scurries away from you. If you had known the attic would be so unclean, you might not have bothered to come up here. So far your targets had alluded you without giving so much as a hint towards their location. The library had seemed a likely location, but you had heard Daniela’s voice within, and anxiety had sent you dashing away. Up here, in an area clearly used for storage above all else, was the next best guess, as far as you were concerned. Still, you hadn’t seen anything worth your time yet.

Just insects, really. Not even terribly interesting ones. Well, there had been a shiny beetle of some sort, but it had crawled into a crack in the wall mere seconds after you saw it. Other than that, though, nothing but creepy crawlies. Creepy flyers?... Both, for sure. One fly in particular kept buzzing around you, weirdly interested in what you were doing.

Somehow you didn’t understand what that meant until a firm hand had wrapped itself around your neck. The grip was tight, putting more than enough pressure to make your vision blur. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the culprit didn’t intend to just choke you out. Instead they lift you and toss you aside- casually, at that. You hit the wall with a terrible crashing sound, certain to leave bruises, and narrowly avoid toppling into a stack of heavy crates. So much for enjoying some free time, you think. Stunned for several seconds, you find yourself left helpless as your attacker approaches.

“You’re not allowed to be up here,” a voice snarled, familiar enough to leave you terrified. Of course you had to run into the most violent of the Dimitrescu sisters. “Looking for a way out, hmm? Or are you stupid enough to think we’d leave a weapon where a wretched thing like you could find it?” Cassandra asked, pausing only to send a swift kick your way. A grunt escapes you, leaves you coughing, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as hitting the wall. Despite wanting to curl up and give in, you tried to drag yourself to your feet. Surprisingly, Cassandra makes no move to stop you, perhaps enjoying the sight of you struggling.

“Lady… Daniela… gave me permission,” you said between painful breaths. By the time you’re back on your feet, the vampire before you is watching you with narrowed, albeit curious, eyes. Normally it would take a lot of courage to face her. But you’re exhausted, in pain, and you’ve taken nearly as much hurt from someone who called themselves your lover. It’s not brave to stare down Cassandra, it’s foolhardy. It’s idiotic, really, and yet you find yourself unable to care. “I’m just looking for a couple piano books I’ve been told about, so I can use them to help teach Lady Daniela.”

“Oh? You’re her instructor?” Cassandra asked, a strange smile overtaking her expression. Something in the atmosphere has shifted, dangerously, but you can’t figure out why. Clueless to your self-betrayal, you nod in response. Instantly Cassandra’s smile turns into an open-lipped snarl, and she reaches out to grab you by the shirt, this time slamming you into the wall with her own hands. “Then you’re the reason she kept me up yesterday, crying non stop! I’m going to rip you apart, you vermin.”

The look in her eyes is, most definitely, the scariest thing you had ever seen. It’s feral, inhuman, and unstoppably determined. But when tears fall from your eyes, it’s not because you know you’re about to die. No, it’s because the last thing you think you’ll ever hear is the news that your partner had been sobbing for hours… and that you were the reason why. Your heart aches, both physically and emotionally, as you brace yourself for the bloody end.

Instead, the grip on your clothes loosens. You don’t dare open your eyes to see why.

“What the fuck do you want, sis?” Cassandra asked, sounding like she had turned her head away from you. Before you know it you’ve been let go, and you slide to the ground, too surprised to hold yourself steady. When you look up, you see an irritated Bela pulling Cassandra away from you, whispering something you can’t quite hear. They argue for a minute, under their breath, keen on keeping you out of the loop. Eventually the younger of the two storms away, but not before making a dent in the wall with her fist.

“What a child,” Bela said, rolling her eyes at the display. Then she’s walking back towards you, extending a hand in an offer of assistance (one you gladly accept). “That girl has the foresight of a magic eight ball, I swear. If she had actually killed you… ugh, I can hardly stand to imagine how inconsolable Daniela would become. Then I’d have two insufferable sisters. Regardless, do tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to come up here unaccompanied? It is normally off limits for servants, after all.”

“I-I, well… I mean, firstly thank you for saving me, I had no idea-” Bela holds a finger up in a ‘shut up’ motion, then puts it away as soon as you pause- “right, you don’t care. Look, I was just trying to find the piano books that Lady Dimitrescu mentioned, but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find them, so I should really just go,” you explain, eager to get out of the attic. To your surprise, Bela gives you an odd look before turning away. Then she takes no more than five steps, shifts to the side, and opens an old cabinet. Inside you can see a dozen books of sheet music, notably from several different decades, all worn but still in decent condition. “How did-?... I thought I checked there.”

“Well, you must have been distracted. Nonetheless, you know where they are now, and you owe me twice over. With that in mind… come with me. We have things to discuss,” Bela commanded, walking away before you could protest. All you can do is grab the sheet music, tuck it under one arm, and follow her to who-knows-where.

-----------------------------------------

“I’ll have to have you make my tea more often,” Bela mused, letting the mug keep her hands warm. The two of you were sitting in some sort of study, a room that you had never been inside before. From what you could tell it belonged solely to the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. Inside were several shelves, each filled with well bookmarked collections, a desk next to a massive window, a couple simple chairs, and a few instrument cases. All in all it was an aesthetically pleasing room, organized but not exactly neat. You could certainly imagine Bela spending entire days in this chamber. “Now, why do you think I brought you here?” Her voice brings your focus back into the present moment, as well as sends a spike of anxiety through you.

“Based on what nearly got me killed earlier… Does it have to do with Daniela crying?” You asked, doing your best to indicate just how bad you felt about the subject. No matter how cruel she could be, you did honestly care about Daniela, and even wanted a real, healthy relationship with her. Desire, or willingness, wasn’t the root of the problem by any means. Something told you that Bela understood this, maybe even respected you for it.

“Guess there’s more in that pretty head of yours than air and symphonies, hmm?” Bela replied, laughing a little as she did. It was a far nicer sound than Cassandra’s maniacal giggling, for sure. “Now, I don’t know all the details about what happened- just that there was an argument, clearly a bad one, and Daniela barely made it through dinner before locking herself in her room. Luckily for you, our mother doesn’t seem to know about your little ‘fight’. She’s not sure what upset Dani, and I doubt my sister would tell her, so your secret is safe. Assuming that I blackmailed Cassandra well enough, that is. Anyway, I can’t help you, and by extension my sister, if I don’t know the full story. In case it wasn’t clear, that’s your cue to start talking.”

You’re surprised, admittedly, by a number of things. But Bela seems impatient, so you go over the details of the previous night with her, occasionally pausing to let her ask questions. The whole time her focus is on you, unwavering. There’s also a noticeable lack of judgement in her expression, even when you voice your regret about how you handled the situation, and what is there seems directed more towards Daniela than yourself. Once you finish, Bela releases a deep sigh. One of her hands goes to rub her forehead as if warding off a migraine.

“Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, as much as I wish I could. Daniela’s always had her head in the clouds, and it’s left her tripping over her own feet more than once. Still, this is certainly one of her bigger messes…” Bela said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to talk to her about this, aren’t I? There’s no way she’s going to process this correctly on her own.” This time she seemed to be talking to herself, gaze locked on her tea as if it might suddenly offer to speak to Daniela in her place. When the tea stayed silent, understandably, she returned her focus to you. “You seemed upset, earlier, about this ridiculous situation. I am going to assume, from that, you are genuinely interested in my dear sister. Normally, this would be the part where I drain you of all blood, and possibly keep your skull as a memento... mori. Yours would look lovely on a window sill, I think.”

She pauses, head tilting a little to the side, clearly evaluating your artistic value.

“However, Daniela appears to care about you, far more than her usual fleeting infatuations. So, for now, I have decided not to eviscerate you, you’re welcome,” Bela cooed, teasingly, enjoying the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Still, you were glad that you would apparently be surviving the day. “So I’m going to give you some advice, which you will take, and you won’t even owe me anything extra for this. Daniela is in love with the mere concept of love- and she has been for as long as I can remember. Romance novels are practically the only books she reads. It’s… embarrassing, truly. More than that, I get the impression that she couldn’t even begin to describe what love actually feels like. She’s digested so much of that written drivel that it warped her senses. Of course, the, ahem, situation we find ourselves in, here at the castle, has undoubtedly added to this effect.

“To get to the point, Daniela’s terribly, hopelessly clueless when it comes to things like what she wants from you. And so I take it upon myself, as her older sibling, to ensure that you understand. Moreso, that you are not dissuaded. If this is an actual chance for her to experience real romance, then it could make her happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Bela explained. The look in her eyes was incredibly soft, to the point where it made you realize just how much this odd little family cared for each other. “Don’t give up, don’t let her occasional infuriating antics push you away. Given enough time… I think the two of you could, I suppose, compliment each other quite nicely. But if you break her heart? I will pull yours from your chest and eat it raw. Understood?” Gulping, you nodded quickly, ignoring the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks. It was one thing for Bela to want her sister to be happy, but another thing entirely for her to acknowledge your “suitability” for the position. “Good. Now return to whatever it is you maidens normally do. I have a sister to talk sense into.”

-----------------------------------------

Hours later, you stand alone in a display room, dusting various relics from bygone times. A trophy here, a bizarre art piece there, strange, unlabeled tools you can’t quite imagine are for wine-making. It’s a fascinating collection, really. But your mind is focused on other, far softer things. All you can think about is what Bela had told you, about how Daniela really is interested in you, and how she thought the two of you could make it work. After the chaos earlier in the day, this was exactly what you needed. Just some time to yourself, working quietly, thoughts all to yourself. Even your bruises bother you less, the pain fading out into the background. Considering where you are, though, it is not at all surprising that your peace cannot last. As soon as you finish your task you move towards the exit.

The door swings open, outwards, at your touch, only to reveal a familiar figure reaching for the doorknob. Both of you gasp, taken by surprise, before your gazes meet. Of course it’s Daniela. Who else would you bump into right now?

“I thought about what you said,” she blurts, suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaking. “We need to talk, yeah?”

[fandomshatelgbtqpeople]

On why “not like other girls” isn’t a useful criticism anymore (and maybe never was)

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about how the way people have been talking about femininity in feminist spaces for the past few years really fails gender nonconforming queer and neurodivergent girls.

In particular, I’ve noticed and seen others talk about the tendency to push the ideas that women never enforce gender norms on other women, never punish other women for not conforming to gender norms, and that female bullies essentially don’t exist because girls would never do that to each other. I’ve also noticed how the “face” of internalized misogyny has become the blatantly queercoded, neurodivergent-coded girl who’s Not Like Other Girls. That’s not an accident.

There are feminist circles made up mostly of women who have never had a problem with being accepted by other women, and their ideas about how girls and women treat each other are very influential. The things is that they don’t realize that how other women treat them and how other girls treated them growing up isn’t universal. They’re unaware that they aren’t accepted just because they’re women but because they’re able to check off a number of conditions that signal to other women that they “belong.” One of the more important conditions is being able to do femininity the right way. They’re unaware that there’s a huge difference between women who can do femininity the right way and choose to subvert it for feminist reasons versus women who can’t do it the right way at all, and that difference has a huge impact on how other women treat you. A lot of these women are probably well intentioned, but that doesn’t make it okay that their viewpoints, which erase women who are marginalized in ways they aren’t, have become so mainstream.

This, of course, has a disparate impact on gender nonconforming queer women, who can’t do femininity right because it leads to things like dysphoria and depression, and autistic women, who often can’t do femininity right because of sensory issues with makeup/tight clothing/certain fabrics, because they’re unable to understand the social rules that govern things like fashion trends or matching clothes, or because their special interests aren’t seen by their peers as acceptable things for girls to be interested in.

The problem arises because women in the first group, the influential feminist circles, seem to have decided that the idea of female bullies is a patriarchal trope pushed by men (girls wouldn’t do that to each other) and that only men enforce gender norms on women (girls are so much more accepting of other girls uwu). Gender nonconforming queer and autistic women, who grew up as gender nonconforming girls, know that this idea is frankly bullshit because they were bullied and ostracized by other girls for not being able to do femininity right or enough, but when we try to talk about this, we’re shouted down by the first group of women as just having internalized misogyny. The entire time I was in middle and high school, I only remember having my appearance insulted by a boy once. It was almost exclusively something other girls did. And yet we’re told that our own lived experiences can’t possibly have happened because “bullying is a boy thing, girls are all friends.” You would think that this conversation would at least be happening in queer circles but even there, gnc queer women are the only ones talking about it, while everyone else is all, “It’s so great how lesbians never enforce gender norms against each other. Anyway, here’s my fanart of a canonically butch character wearing a dress.”

So here’s where the girl who’s Not Like Other Girls comes in. The stereotypical girl who’s Not Like Other Girls is blatantly queercoded and blatantly neurodivergent coded, and that’s not an accident. It’s because those are the girls who are disproportionately likely to be rejected by other girls because of their inability to do femininity right, and that’s something that the women who love to talk about the girl who’s Not Like Other Girls have subconsciously picked up on.

Now, I’m not going to try to claim that no one who thinks they’re not like other girls has a sense of superiority about it, but overwhelmingly, the girls who think that aren’t thinking “I’m not like those dumb sluts.” They’re thinking “why am I not like the other girls.” For me (an autistic lesbian), my Not Like Other Girls phase was never about thinking I was better than everyone else. It was an attempt to explain to myself why I was being picked on and excluded by other girls, even the ones who were my friends. I knew I was different from other girls because I was told that by other girls. And the idea that girls who hang out mostly with boys are doing it because they hate other girls is largely false. Lots of teenage gnc queer and autistic girls hang out mostly with boys because they find that there are fewer unspoken social rules between boys, boys are less judgmental about their appearance than other girls, girls their age are starting to develop interests they find alienating, and/or because they’ve just given up on trying to befriend girls after years of rejection. It’s not internalized misogyny, it’s a trauma response.

All this vilification of the girl who’s Not Like Other Girls really accomplishes is making gender nonconforming girls and women into the main perpetrators of internalized misogyny and gender conforming girls into the main victims. It should give us pause that our idea of a stereotypical victim of internalized misogyny is a thin, blond, pretty queen bee-type and our stereotypical perpetrator is a queercoded, neurodivergent-coded girl with no friends, because it’s a blatant example of homophobia and ableism in mainstream feminism. It’s because the women with the loudest voices want to feel like they’re always the victims and never to blame. It should concern us how many posts are dedicated to condemning girls who think they aren’t like other girls when I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a single post condemning girls who bully other girls for not conforming to femininity. That’s an incontrovertible example of internalized misogyny that’s honestly a much more widespread problem, and everyone either wants to pretend it isn’t happening or has decided they’re okay with.

Gender nonconforming queer and autistic women grow up being ostracized for their gender nonconformity and no one can even make a post telling them its okay to be the way they are without having to add about a dozen disclaimers to avoid hurting the feelings of gender conforming women and still having 20 people in the replies reminding them that “some girls like to wear makeup :)” Meanwhile people will make 380 posts about how feminine girls should be celebrated without a single thought to how that contributes to the alienation and exclusion gnc queer and autistic girls are experiencing. Not everyone needs to learn to love pink or whatever. It’s so okay for gnc women to have deep negative feelings towards femininity as a concept when it was the reason for their abuse at the hands of other girls. That’s not internalized misogyny. 

Anyway, I remember around the turn of the decade when the idea of the girl who was Not Like Other Girls really took off and I remember being able to picture exactly who it was about, but looking back, I can’t for the life of me remember whether that person was someone who actually existed irl, or whether it was the result of a popular media trope that everyone just assumed was also a problem irl, or whether it’s always just been the most acceptable women with the loudest voices blaming gender nonconforming queer and autistic women for something we weren’t doing.

mod k

tl;dr - Blaming girls who Aren’t Like Other Girls for internalized misogyny is victim-blaming bullshit. Girls thinking they aren’t like other girls is a symptom of the problem, not the problem itself.

[stargazer-balladeer]

I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified [Genshin Impact]

[Diluc Ragnvindr x Gender Neutral! Reader]

Inspired by: I won’t say I’m in love - Hercules

Notes: I have no regrets 😃😃 and yes,, I use the prompt in my prompt list bc i thought its fitting for this fic. (I still have fic ideas for albedo and jean- hshsh). Hope ya’ll like this!

Word Count: 1499

Warning: none

Diluc swears to his honor, pride and heart that he’ll never fall in love again. Not after everything he’s been through, not after being used by his past lover-

Diluc’s stare hardened as his fists clenched a bit harder, good thing he was wearing gloves or else there’ll be blood on his palms where his fingers are digging. He doesn’t understand how or why or when it happened, but his heart decided to beat once more, to you nonetheless.

The person who’s been with him throughout the years, who full-heartedly supported him, who kept smiling and didn’t give up even as he tried to push you away-

Even all that, why did his heart suddenly beat for you? Didn’t it already learned its lesson the first time? Diluc really doesn’t understand himself. Of course, he can open up to someone else but who do you think this is? This is Diluc Ragnvindr, the cold stoic guy in Mondstadt. He doesn’t need help- atleast, that’s what he thinks.

So, in his utmost rational mind, he decided to avoid you. Maybe his feelings would go away if he just avoided you. So, he avoided you. Days go by as it slowly turns to weeks to months, Diluc continued to avoid you like a plague.

You, of course, thought that you did something that made him avoid you. And as much as you want to confront him about it, you knew you couldn’t. You’ve known Diluc for a long time now, confronting him wouldn’t do any good. So you let it be as well.

People around you watch as you two continued to dance around each other, avoiding one another, one not knowing the reason and the other knows but denies it. At first, it was a amusement to Kaeya. But as months go by, it slowly started to irritate the cryo-user.

“So.. when will this game of yours end? It’s getting quite boring.” Diluc’s hand stopped moving momentarily before moving again. Kaeya’s eyes stayed on his face as he sips on a Dandelion Wine. “I don’t have a clue on what you’re talking about. And the exit’s that way.”

Kaeya only laughed at his remark. “C’mon, sir Diluc. You know exactly what I mean.” Diluc continued to ignore him as he continued to clean the wine glass with a cloth. Kaeya’s eyes narrowed at him, gears in his head turning as his lips turn into a smirk. “I see.. you’re in denial.”

Now, Diluc really stopped moving. He stared into space for a while before sighing and putting down the glass and cloth. He turned his attention to his previous sworn-brother and glared at him. “If you’re here to make fun of me, I’ll have nothing of it. The door is wide open for you to walk to.”

“See? You’re dodging the topic entirely.” Kaeya didn’t skip a beat, immediately striking him. Diluc didn’t get to bite back as Kaeya continued to talk. “If you don’t get them.. then I will.” Diluc flinch at what he said. “What is that supposed to mean-?”

“It means what it means.” Kaeya only has a innocent smile on his face, but Diluc could feel the sinister aura behind it. He click his tongue while glaring at him. “You-!” “If you don’t man up and accept those feelings of yours, then I’ll swipe them off under your nose.”

Kaeya drank the last of the wine before promptly standing up. He still has a innocent smile-smirk on his face. “So, do be a man, sir Diluc, and confess your feelings to [Y/N]. It’s afterall quite obvious.” He turned around to walk away.

Diluc sweatdropped at what Kaeya said as he continued to stare behind at Kaeya’s back. As the cryo-user open the Tavern’s door, he looks back at Diluc. “Time’s ticking, sir Diluc. Better hurry if you don’t to lose them.”

When the door closed, Diluc slammed his fist to the wall beside him in anger. The people around him flinch at his sudden action. “Master Diluc-! Are you okay-?” But the man shut his mouth immediately when he saw how angry Diluc is.

“That damn man..” Diluc lowly growled as he retracted his bloody fist to his chest. “You tell me that I’m the one playing a game.. but it seems like you’re the one who’s pulling the strings here.”

——

“Oh, [Y/N]! What a pleasant surprise!”

Diluc immediately stopped walking when he heard a familiar annoying voice of a certain Cavalry Captain. “Hm? Oh, it’s you Kaeya. What’s up?” He swear he felt his blood run cold when he heard your voice. He immediately hid behind a wall as he listened to your conversation.

“Hm.. nothing much. Say, are you free?” Diluc’s hands turned into a fist. “Today? Um.. yeah. I guess I am.” “Then, would you accompany me to Cat’s Tail for a.. date?” That was the last straw..

“Date-? Woah—!” You were surprised when someone grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you towards them. You landed on their chest as you let out a ‘oof’. You look up to see who you’re going to beat up and gasped when you saw it was a livid Diluc. Actually, not livid. He looks furious.

He was glaring menacingly at a smirking Kaeya. “Oh? Sir Diluc! What a surprise to see you here~” Kaeya almost said mockingly, obviously trying to provoke the pyro-user. Diluc continued to glare at him before looking away. “C’mon. Let’s get away from this pest.”

Diluc, who was still holding your wrist, began to drag you away from the cryo-user. “Wha- hold on!” You screamed, but it doesn’t seem like Diluc would stop any time soon. So you turned your head to look at Kaeya, who just smirk in response.

You sweatdropped at his smirk as you decided to face front and keep up with Diluc’s fast pace.

——

“What was that?” You asked when you two finally came to a stop. Diluc hasn’t let go of your wrist yet, not that you’re complaining about but still- “Were you about to accept Kaeya’s invitation?” You blink at his sudden question before raising a brow.

“You mean the ‘date’? Kaeya was obviously joking about that part-“ “What if he isn’t joking?” Diluc cuts you off, which made you jump. But you soon grow frustrated at him. I mean, this guy avoided you for months-! And he has a nerve to drag you away from Kaeya and interrogate you-!

“What’s gotten into you?! First, you avoided me for months- and now you want to interrogate me?!” You exclaimed angrily at him. His eyes widened a bit before turning around to look at you. “I’m not interrogating you-“ “Well.. it sure feels like it-!”

Diluc sighs, his hand moving to hold your hands instead. You blushed a bit when he hold your hands and started.. playing with it? You can tell he’s nervous from it but you were surprised when he started playing with it. His eyes weren’t meeting yours and a pink hue was on his cheeks. Honestly, he looks adorable-

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Diluc said, barely a whisper. But you heard it, loud and clear. Your mind blanked out as you stare at him blankly. Diluc, nervous about your reaction, grow worried when he didn’t hear a response from you. So he looks at you and almost burst out laughing-

Your face was as red as his hair and your eyes was wide. You look at him with wide eyes before whining. “That wasn’t fair-!! That was a foul move! Foul move!” You exclaimed as you slip your hands from his and started hitting him, though if barely affected him.

He barely felt your hits, it actually sends him amusement. “You’re so adorable..” He mumbled. You heard it again which made you whine again. “Who are you and what happpened to my Diluc-?!” Diluc blinks before smirking mischievously. “Your Diluc?”

You screech when you realized what you said. “NOO-! I DIDN’T MEAN THAT-!!” Diluc only laughs as he brings you to his chest and wrap his arms around you. You slowly calmed down, but you’re still upset with his sudden confession-

“I’m sorry.. can you forgive me?” You heard Diluc asking. “I’ll forgive you if.. you’ll be mine and mine only.” Diluc softly smiles at your whisper as he placed a kiss on top of your head. “Of course. Only if you’ll do the same for me.” “Hmhmm..” You let out while stuffing your face to his chest.

Atleast now.. he won’t have to deny that he’s in love with you.

[x] Main Page || [x] Mondstadt Page

[deltas-writing-corner]

Tsukumo Yuki relationship headcanons

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Tsukumo Yuki x reader

Author note: Tsukomo Yuki is the reason I love woman and she can crush me between her thighs send tweet

Warnings: Potential manga spoilers (?) | Mentions of s*x, but nothing too blatantly explicit. I would still prefer it if minors did not interact with this post in any way.

Yuki always asks the people she meets what type of woman they like. If someone were to ask that same question back to her, she’ll most certainly utter back your name as if it were an obvious response.

What’s not to love about you? You’re cute. You make her laugh. You cook for her because heaven knows she can't if her life depended on it. Most importantly, you keep her company due to the lack of curses she’s ever sent to exorcise. Traveling the world is fun and all, but it’s even more fun with you by her side!

You’re not a sorcerer. You can’t even see curses. Yuki is a childhood friend of yours and has kept you in the loop regarding the world of jujutsu sorcery since she started integrating into it. She thinks it’s important for you to know that someone like you, a non-curse user who has no control over the curse energy you create, should know what exactly your negative emotions can lead to. It’s not to make you feel bad or pin blame on you in any way. It’s her way of protecting you beyond physical means as well as a way of showing you that she places a great deal of trust in you regarding the nature of her line of work and her true goals.

Because she rejects the methods of the higher-ups and her ideology is more along the lines of putting an end to the creation of curses permanently instead of letting them manifest and dealing with them when they start causing profound trouble, you’re often the one that has to listen to all her new, sometimes overreaching, hypotheses now and then. You may even take part in her research, but she would never put you in any sort of harm! At least, not unless you give her the okay to. Be warned, if you give your blessing to be her little lab rat she’s prone to get carried away with her methods. Speak up if she’s doing something outrageous or if she’s making you uncomfortable. Otherwise, you might end up in some precarious situations.

As mentioned previously, Yuki isn’t sent out on missions that often, if ever. She instead chooses to travel in and out of the country, for the sake of her research as well as for the pleasure of it. Since she’s one of three, later four, special grade sorcerers her salary is rather tremendous. Unfortunately, her travels outside Japan are “unauthorized” and sometimes her funds get frozen by the higher-ups. Her quick solution to the matter is to fly back, take on a mission or two to get her funds unfrozen (and into your account because you’re her partner-in-crime) or even take on a mission to earn some more funds, and then you and her are right back to traveling the world again.

During one of these money replenishing heists, she met a kid that she took a particular interest in and wanted to mentor, Aoi Todo. It’s hard for most people to spark her interest to the extent Todo did, so you happily supported her endeavors and even met with her young pupil a few times throughout the years. Her methods of training are a bit....extreme, to put it lightly. You understand that holding back her punches will only hinder Todo’s progress instead of allowing him the ability to improve and push past his limits, but you can’t help but flinch over the large scar that marks his face whenever you briefly meet up with him.

Todo is eccentric, but so is Yuki. Perhaps not idol obsessed like Todo, but seeing the way he takes great care of his appearance and flaunts his body (during a battle even), he’s a near-identical clone of Yuki. She knows that she’s good-looking, and she will always flaunt this fact to anyone with working eyes, even you! Does it work every single time? Yes. Yes, it does.

Honestly, how can it not? She’s tall. She has a great butt. She drives a motorcycle. Her tight biker pants are your Achilles heels and she knows it. Sometimes she’ll wear them around the house just to flaunt her curves and other bodily goods, even if it’s the middle of the summer, the AC is broken and the pants are made of stuffy leather material. If it gets your face all heated up, she'll wear it.

The compliments she gets from strangers are nice and all, but it’s your reactions she truly cares about. You’ve been by her side through it all. You're still sticking with her even despite the fact that she’s constantly moving around and living a somewhat free-spirited lifestyle. You genuinely support and help her when almost everyone else has rejected her methods and ideals and brush her off as some lazy, outrageous-thinking woman. Really, you stole this woman’s heart just by letting her be herself, a lazy, outrageous-thinking woman.

Yuki is indeed lazy, to the point it sometimes affects you and your shared apartment is left in a week-long accumulated mess. I’m talking clothes strewed about and spilling out the already full laundry basket, sink filled with dirty dishes, houseplant half dead due to insufficient watering, and little dusty bunnies in the corner of the room. Whenever you try to get around to getting your living space in order, she always drags you back to the bed with her either to nap some more or for a quick round of sex that leads to more napping. Eventually, you have to beat her with a pillow and threaten her with no sex for a certain period of time to get her to back off, which always works without fail.

If you really hold the “no sex until...” ultimatum over her head long enough, she’ll even pitch in and help you clean. But to be honest she kinda sucks at it so it’s sometimes better to just have her sit on the sidelines while you do all the work. She’ll jokingly suggest you clean with just an apron on (because she’s a freak like that), but you haven’t taken her up on the suggestion just yet. It’s mostly because you’ll use the “naked apron” method to further insinuate her punishment if your usual threat begins to lose its potency (because you are also a freak like that).

She’s a bad sleeping partner. Not only does she hog all the blankets and pillows, but she even stretches out her limbs over the entire bed. This usually leaves you curled up in a corner shivering your ass off until you either fall asleep via exhaustion or move to the couch. If you go to the couch, she’s 99.9% likely to wake up and join you shortly after, where she’s less of a hassle to deal with because of the limited space.

She’s a great big spoon, which is actually one of the ways you later use to solve her troublesome habits as once she latches onto you, she will not let go the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, she also snores terribly loud, but it’s nothing earbuds can’t fix.

Some might think she sleeps in something flattering, maybe even a bit scanty. That couldn’t be any further from the truth. Her pj’s are decades-old shirts and gym shorts that she never got around to getting rid of. If not that, she’ll sleep completely naked and she doesn’t care if someone walks in on her with the covers off. She’ll only ever wear lingerie or other promiscuous pieces of clothing if she has intentions of getting between your legs and rocking your world for the rest of the night.

I think it goes without saying that she looks great in lace, but as hot as she may look, she really likes seeing you dressed up in something risque as well.

If you’re female, she sometimes likes to wear matching lingerie sets with you, but her favorite material to see you in is leather, especially those harness-styled sets that squeeze your flesh all around.

If you’re male, she’s a complete sucker for a man in a clean-cut, custom-tailored suit and will take it off as soon as you put it on. Hope you don’t mind losing a button or two, because she will pop them off for sure when she rips your dress shirt off of you.

To all my gender-neutral folks, It’s never too late to whip out that naked apron I mentioned earlier! Or a leather jacket. Everyone looks great in a leather jacket!

Yuki’s diet is fucking terrible. You’re a decent cook, but despite this, all she ever seems to want is greasy take-out food that makes you wonder how the hell she’s still so fit after witnessing her down three chicken burritos in one sitting. Even when the two of you are abroad and are able to try out different types of cuisines not so readily available in Japan, she’ll still want to go out to a fast food joint that you can easily find everywhere. You’ve tried to get her to branch out of her comfort zone and eat somewhat healthier alternatives of her favorite foods, but so far you’ve gotten mixed results.

In summary: Yuki is a pretty outgoing person and sometimes can be a bit of a hassle to deal with, but she’s clearly ambitious and moves to the tune of her own beat. Her goal of finding and effectively eliminating the source of all curses is a testament to the fact that she wants to save future generations from having to carry the burden sorcerers have been carrying for thousands of years. Her goals are not only for the sake of the people who will come after her, but also for the sake of her future with you. You’re someone she genuinely cares for and wishes to spend the rest of her life with, evident by the numerous times she’s come clean to you about her fears of you dying when she isn't around to protect you or of her dying and leaving you behind to mourn during late-night pillow talks in hotels or in your shared home. A future where you and her can travel the world and truly take in and enjoy the sights and wonders instead of searching for an answer to one of the world’s greatest phenomenon is a future worth fighting for, even if she’s met with some pushback or the end goal seems like nothing more than a pipedream at times. So long as you’re there with her to see her research bear fruit, she’ll keep testing and coming up with new methods to eliminate curses permanently, no matter the extremes her research takes her to.

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘As The World Falls Down’ - ‘Danger’ Ray x Reader Fic

Based lightly on ‘As the world falls down’ from Labyrinth, Reader attends a midnight ball, but all is not as it seems. 

Word count: 3.4K Rating: SFW CW: Elixir, drugs, cult behaviour, creepy Ray, forced Elixir Reader: Gender neutral Disclaimer: this isn’t how I actually think the Elixir would affect someone but I wanted to keep the fairytale aspect to the story!

Reblogs appreciated!! <3

_______________________

‘You’ll drink it, right? And then you can stay here with us forever. We’ll never have to be apart.’ Ray said, the blue bottle sitting between his half-gloved hands. He seemed nervous, but eager for you to have it. You’d already told him that you wanted to stay at Magenta and be a part of Mint Eye with him, hence he had brought you the Elixir that everyone was required to take to cleanse themselves. You wanted to stay, but you had seen the effect that the liquid had on Ray, but you were a little bit tentative to actually put it to your lips.

You’d grown such tenderness and genuine affection for Ray, and you were leaving behind a life that you didn’t really care for, so why would you not want to stay in Mint Eye? You nodded, reaching out your hands to take the bottle from him. He smiled, but the smile did not match the emotion in his eyes. There was a sweetness to his lips, but an intensity and darkness to his gaze that was… unsettling to pinpoint.

‘A-ah… It won’t hurt, right?’ You asked, taking a seat on the side of your bed. The colour reminded you of those sugary isotonic drinks that you saw teenagers drinking outside of schools or on the weekend, but you were certain that it was not the same liquid.

‘Maybe just a little…’ He started, ‘but I’ve flavoured it to taste like peaches, just for you. You’ll be happy with us, a place where you can truly belong. Don’t you want to stay with me? To feel held?’

You did. Though you’d come here by chance, you’d found people who longed to feel loved and needed. The life you’d left behind was nothing compared to the one that could lay ahead for you, and yet, why were you so scared to take the final plunge?

‘Okay…’ You took the heart-shaped bottle from him. You watched Ray as you uncorked the bottle, feeling somewhat as though you were about to drink the poison from a fairytale or a movie. But of course, surely this Elixir was nothing like that. Ray wouldn’t do that. That smile of his meant no harm. He cared for you and wanted you to stay with him at Magenta.

The first thing you noticed after opening the bottle was the heavy scent of peaches, Ray really must have poured a lot of nectar into the Elixir to cover up its original smell, which burned your eyes. Perhaps smelling it wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps drinking it wasn’t the best idea. You were hesitant, but it was the only way you would get to stay with him. You took one more glance at Ray, who stood in front of you smiling in all his princely attire, before pressing the bottle to your lips.

Instantly, the Elixir overwhelmed all of your senses. Though it was seeped in peach flavourings, it did little to cover the burning sensation it left in your mouth and throat. It was like drinking nail varnish remover, or pure gasoline. It hurt. You choked, spluttering slightly into the back of your hand.

Ray handed you a glass of water, smoothing out your hair and assuring you that the pain will pass. It was all part of joining Mint Eye. You had to purify yourself of the person you were before you entered Magenta. It had to happen in order to find true salvation with the Savior. You continued to choke on the liquid as you felt it hit your stomach. Did Ray… really drink this every day? How was he even still standing? No wonder he looked so ill all of the time.

The longer it was in your stomach, the worse you started to feel despite Ray’s reassurances that you would be okay.

‘Ray, I don’t feel too good, I think I’m gonna…’ You barely finished the sentence before your head started to spin. Your eyelids fluttered shut in an attempt to ground yourself and focus on sitting upright, but to little avail. You began to fall back onto the bed, but your head never hit the pillow, so that the last sensation you felt before the slumber took over you was the sensation of Ray’s hand supporting your neck and shoulders.

‘I have you, my Princess. I’ll never let you fall…’ He whispered as you began to lose consciousness. He mumbled something else that you couldn’t quite make out, but it sounded awfully like ‘For anyone else.’

-

You woke up, or at least you think you did. Nothing was real, and yet, it had to be. You were already on your feet, being guided down the maze of corridors. Everything was a daze, and it felt as though you were dreaming, yet you could have sworn that the footsteps you were taking felt undeniably real. Illuminated only by the cloaked men carrying candles, you caught a glance of yourself in a mirror on the wall and gasped. You hadn’t really had the chance to process much since regaining your consciousness. It hadn’t occurred to you that the clothes you fell asleep in were not the ones you had woken up in.

The dress was huge: white and crystallised. It was something from a fairy-tale, beautiful from everyway you turned. As soon as you realised you were the one wearing it, you couldn’t believe you had missed it in the first place. It took up the entire lower half of your vision with its endless layers of silk and satin. You paused at your reflection, trying to take in as much of the detail as you could in the dim lighting. The sleeves were great cream-puffs of fabric and the tight corset held your torso rigidly in place. At any other time, you might have complained about the confines of a corset, but it felt as though it was holding you together as you lost grip on everything else around you. The dress was somewhat bridal, but the princess aesthetic far outshone that of a matrimony. You carried your eyes upwards, giggling slightly as your face warped in the mirror and you pawed at the heavy necklace that sat over your collarbones.

Your hair had been done too, littered with small star pins which sparkled against the mirror. Those weren’t yours, you didn’t own anything like that, so how had you come to get them? In the haze of half-consciousness, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you reached a wavy hand up to tap your fingertips along the hair pins, as though to make sure that they were really there. They certainly felt real, but nothing felt real. The textures were all wrong, the colours too bright. There were so many of them and they were so beautiful that you wished you could take them out of the dream with you whenever you woke up.

A cough resonated from behind you, it was the cloaked Believers who had been leading you through the corridors. They did not raise their eyes to meet you, but stared downwards as the one on the left said; ‘Your presence is greatly anticipated.’

‘Who?’ You asked, bewildered as to the fact they were talking to you. For some reason, you had assumed that they couldn’t speak. Were they real?

‘Yours.’ The other one deadpanned.

‘Me? Mine?’ You responded, confused.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh.’ Well, they must have been real! You stumbled slightly over the front of the dress as you moved to follow them. You hadn’t even thought to ask where you were going. Really, it hadn’t even occurred to you that there was a destination, you had simply found yourself walking with them and continued on the journey they had been leading you on.

They brought you to a pair of heavy, ornate doors. Some thought lost within your brain told you that you recognised the door, but you couldn’t find the connecting memory to remember where the doors led to. You attempted to ask them but found that your reverie had taken your voice. You swallowed thickly and remained silent until the door opened. They ushered you in with a ‘For Paradise’ before leaving.

The sounds of life were the first thing to reach your diluted senses. Bursts of music unlike those you had heard within Mint Eye before reached your ears. It was rich, elegant music only achieved with live instruments and talent. It was overwhelming to have so many of your senses assaulted at once, so it took a few moments to gather your bearings. Your eyes began to focus on the surroundings and you slowly realised you were in Magenta’s throne room. Yet, you had never seen so many people gathered in here. The room of people seemed to dance and spin, mingling in their cliques and couples. Masks of all told tales of trickery, of lust, wealth, and status but few bore of identity or name. There were so many masked faces, with each masquerade domino covered in a thin layer of black crushed velvet which absorbed any of the light cast upon it. You were the only one without a mask, yet you had not woken up with one so you could not be to blame for the feeling of exposure. At least, that was what you told yourself as each masked face followed your shaky steps.

A blonde woman smiled at you, offering you her hand. Her mask was slightly different, your eyes were a little too fuzzy to make it out, but it looked as though she had a little decorative side pieces and sequins, setting her apart from the other guests. You knew her, but you could not place exactly how in that moment. Her warm smile made you want to trust her, so you had no reservations in taking her outstretched hand and following her lead. The blonde woman pulled you through the crowds as they parted for her with each step she took. They parted even before she got near to them, making sure she had plenty of space to walk through. You had to watch your feet as they walked so you didn’t stumble over the both of you, consciously kicking the front of the dress so the material didn’t drag along the floor.

‘Ray… You shouldn’t leave her lost like this. I don’t want to see my lambs running astray.’ The blonde woman said as she suddenly stopped walking.

‘You’re right, my Savior… It won’t happen again.’

That voice. Despite your delirium, you knew that voice. Ray.

You had no control over your own movements but watched as the woman moved your hand from hers to Rays. She seemed satisfied with the exchange and, before returning to the party, added; ‘See to it that it doesn’t.’

‘Y-you look beautiful. I chose your dress myself; I hope it is to your liking.’ He stuttered slightly, though tried to feign the confidence of his Prince Charming aesthetic. You followed his voice upwards until you reached his face and notice that he was also wearing one of the black masks. Like the blonde woman, Ray’s domino was a little different to the others: it was the same black velvet but this time it was stitched with the same silver thread that adorned your dress. The small stitches swirls along the right-hand side of his mask, occasionally catching the light when he turned.

He looked at you with such intensity that your felt your heart begin to race. Cinderella had found her Prince.

You opened your mouth to try to reply to Ray, but your voice had yet to return so no noise actually managed to make its way past your lips. He smiled, seemingly understanding the fact you couldn’t speak. Perhaps that was why he was smiling.

You noticed that the music had changed, and people had started to dance in couples with one another. Ray seemed to notice it too, but he did not look surprised. If anything, he seemed expectant. Ray turned and picked up a small flurry of flowers from the table behind him. Oh, what was the word for that? A cottage…? College…? Corsage? Corsage! You were glad to have found the correct word as Ray tentatively slid the flowers onto your wrist and tightened the ribbon. He hummed along to the new song, watching with pride as he watched you inspect the flowers.

‘I chose them from the garden just for you. Would you like to know what they are? These are red roses, which symbolise longing and desire. Those ones are Jonquil, they are like very small Daffodils and there are many of them as My Savior favours Daffodils, so I keep them in the garden. They mean reciprocation of affection. I find them rather sweet; they grow in clusters and yet… they yearn for love…’ He trailed off, lightly tapping the petal. ‘Finally, these ones are yellow Hyacinth, in Floriography the meaning differs depending on the colour, but these ones… They mean jealousy.’

Ray didn’t really give you the time to mull over the meanings he had told you before he once again swept you up with a different conversation.

‘My Princess, might I have this dance?’ Ray bowed, smiling with one arm crossed over his chest in a princely manner. You nodded, giggling at a somewhat over-dramatic curtsey you had attempted to do. My, what an idyllic dream! You didn’t wake to wake up, reality would never be as sweet.

The Ray you knew was never usually so calm, collected. You knew him as a nervous, over exhausted, and a little bit flustered. The Ray of your dreamy reverie was more calculated in his movements.

Ray’s gloved hand took your bare one and the other slipped around your waist. You’d never attempted to ballroom dance, but little mattered in an illusion such a this, so it wouldn’t matter if you were to miss a step or two. You placed your hand over Ray’s shoulder and lifted the arm he was holding to match his stance.

There's such a sad love Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel Open and closed Within your eyes I'll place the sky Within your eyes

A space parted for the two of you on the dancefloor as you noticed people seemed to move for Ray in the same manner that they did for the blonde woman. Ray seemed a little bit nervous to lead, but his grip on your hand told you that he was determined to keep you in his arms regardless of whether he knew the steps confidently or not. Knowing Ray, he had memorised them again and again.

Through his mask, his blue eyes were dedicated to your face, neck, and the enveloping of your hand and his. It was as though he couldn’t get enough of the sight of your hands intertwined like that together. You felt the hand on your waist begin to guide you gently as he took one step forward, then another back: pulling you with him in beat to the music.

You lost yourself to your thoughts and to the music. He looked like a prince and- did he say he had picked your dress himself? He had dressed you like a princess. It seemed fitting, since he already claimed you to be one, and had decorated your room as though you really were one. His own personal Princess. You had to be dreaming, nothing that felt so beautiful could ever truly be real. You had to wake up at some point or another.

There's such a fooled heart Beatin' so fast In search of new dreams A love that will last

After a moment, you had to snap yourself out of your own thoughts and focus on being led. Ray had indeed memorised the steps to the dance, and apparently had memorised your steps too since he guided each movement of yours, possessing your body in the dance as though it was one with his own.

He spun you around, grinning as he watched you spin again and again, as though you were just a small Ballerina in a decorative music box: dancing on command whenever the box was opened. Ray pulled you in to a dip, holding on to your back and not really letting you support yourself, which you did not mind. It was hard to control your own weight in dreams, everything felt so weightless and floaty that you somehow praised your own illusion for making everything seem so realistic. Within your heart I'll place the moon Within your heart

Slowly, your stomach began to churn. Maybe in your dream, you were still not one for dancing. You felt as your breathing got a little heavier by the moment as the colour started to drain away from the room. People were no longer dancing happily in beat as they had once done, they stood; scared and tense, watching as you turned to face them one by one. They were masked and cloaked, for sure, but they were not enjoying the party. They were moving closer.

The grand music you had heard was no longer playing, and the weightlessness you felt turned to breathlessness as you felt the true tightness of the corset around your waist. The heaviness of so many layers of satin, lace, and silk grounded you to the floor and made it impossible to move, let alone run, like your feet were willing you to do. Cinderella would not leave the ball tonight.

You had to ask Ray, he wouldn’t lie to you… Would he? This was your dream; you could control what happened! Why was it turning into a nightmare?

As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you

‘R-Ray… What’s going on…?’

Ray’s face suddenly changed. He broke off the dance and stood still for a moment, watching as you tilted your head in confusion and a glimmer of fear. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the same blue liquid you had drank before falling asleep. You shook your head, not wanting to feel the sickness that came with such a commitment. He seemed both disappointed and dissatisfied with your reluctance. You couldn’t stop the shaking that had started, heavy tremors that wracked your body to the bone.

‘Ray… did you not use the correct dosage? See, look how the poor child suffers. You don’t want to make her leave, do you Ray?’ The same blonde woman from earlier said. You frantically turned, looking to find her face, but she was just a faceless voice in the blurring crowd.

‘No, my Savior.’ Ray said, grabbing one of your wrists. He didn’t squeeze tighter than necessary, but it was more than apparent that you were not escaping his grip any time soon. There was a desperation to it.

‘Then do it like I instructed you.’ She said. Ray swallowed and nodded, popping open the cork to the bottle with his freehand and pressing it against your lips.

Every thrill is gone Wasn't too much fun at all

It took a moment of coughing and spluttering for the wrongs to right themselves again, as Ray took the bottle away from your lips. The overwhelming flavour of peaches filled all of your senses and choked you. Whoever said that peaches were a symbol of family and unity had never taken a bite of one so infected. The sweetness was a danger in itself, it hid the darkness laying within. Sugar-coating it. You hadn’t noticed the burn of the Elixir as much this time, probably since you weren’t really drinking it. It fell down your open throat and pooled as poison into your stomach.

‘You’ll be happy with us, my Princess…’ He repeated as you held your throat and coughed. You were dizzy, so dizzy. The room seemed to spin and, if it were not for Ray’s chest, you would have fallen forward onto the ground. You wheezed onto him form, squeezing your eyes shut until the pounding in your chest and head began to even themselves out.

But I'll be there for you As the world falls down

When your eyes opened once more, the colour returned to the room and the music resonated throughout each nerve ending in your body. The room was alive once again and you could feel it. Ray was looking at you and smiling. You were still dreaming; the clock had not yet struck Twelve.

Falling As the world falls down

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

Dusting Of The Dust 🧤🧤

Idea came from @moodyvoid

Alpha Shigaraki x F! Omega Reader

Words: 2.1K

Summary: Shigaraki is your alpha-a very protective, possessive alpha

Tenko is something different. He takes being your alpha as his top mission. To be with you and guard you is his life’s reason. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let anything hurt you. That being said, he can be overbearing.

“Omega, stay still. You know you have to be still for me to do this.”

“I can’t help it,” you give him your puppy eyes. “It tickles.” He just sighs and smiles. He can’t help but love you no matter what.

Shigaraki was helping you pull on your overalls (he has no idea why you’ve fallen in love with the horrid fashion; his words not yours) so he could take you to the mall for a day of pampering.

Lately, he’s been even busier than usual with the league. It’s been months since he has been able to spend some quality time with you so, he wants to make this day as perfect as possible.

“What am I going to do with you?” He looks down at you with his crimson eyes softened.

“Love me and give me cuddles?” You lift your hands to frame your face like an angel.

“Oh I don’t know,” he teases as he picks you up. Your breath hitches when his teeth catch your scent glands, his chapped lips lightly scrapping you. “You’re so quiet. Why?”

“You’d be quiet too if someone was turning you on like this,” he chuckled. Sometimes, you can be so brash.

“Get ready to go,” he lets you down and walks out of your room to wait in your living room. He’s taken an interest in staying in your home since he doesn’t like bringing you to the hideout (despite how much a bond Hans formed among the villains, he can’t bring himself to allow them to see you).

“I’m ready,” you run from your room with sneakers on your feet. You catch a glimpse of Shigaraki petting a picture of you and you blush slightly. Even though he’s a mean bastard to the world, you know you have his heart; that’s all that matters to you. “You’re wearing that?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Tenko looks down at himself anxiously. He supposes he could’ve attempted to dress better but, he was just focused on your comfort that he couldn’t find it in himself to care about his.

“Nothing,” you walk up to him and grab his hand. He’s wearing a black hoodie and jeans (he’s forgone the signature hand that he normally wears to keep from drawing attention) with a glove that only covers one of his fingers. You place a kiss on his palm, making direct eye contact. He’s driven into small insanity, part of him wanting to take you back to your bedroom and show you how much he loves you.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Kiss your hand?” He nods. “Because I love you. I know you’re always afraid you’ll accidentally hurt me but, I know you’ll never do anything that could put me in harm's way.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, just takes you by the hand and leads you out the door and to the nearest massage parlor. He knows he can never tell you how much you’ve made him happy but, he hopes his actions can show you.

“Are you sure you’re okay with sitting here the whole time?” You asked before you had to enter the clothing room to take off your clothes.

“Yes. For the hundredth time, yes. Can you just get undressed?”

“I remember you asking me that question wayyyy nicer yesterday,” you wag your eyebrows causing him to push you into the room to hide his inflamed cheeks.

You giggle as you walk to your designated locker and remove your clothes, wrapping the robe around your body after you take a quick look at your assets. What can you say? You love adoring yourself.

Meanwhile, Shigaraki was waiting in the massage room with the lady that was setting up the oils. He watched her like a hawk, hands scratching at his neck. Shigaraki knows you wouldn’t want him to lose his cool but, he can’t stand the thought of someone else’s hands on you. He’d rather be at your house playing video games with you in his lap yet, he’s here.

“Do you have to...touch her?”

The woman startles and drops a bottle of oil on the floor. She recovers but, she’s shaking as she picks up the bottle. “Well yes, sir that’s my job.”

“But, do you have to do it without gloves?”

“Sir, it’s a massage.”

“Yes, I know what the fuck it is. I’m paying for it,” the scratching gets more brazen.

“Sir, would you like another masseuse?”

“No-yes- fuck just, if you touch my girl anywhere I don’t like, you won’t be touching anything anymore,” he continues to scratch till you walk in. He slumps in his seat to hide his neck because he knows it’d make you upset to see what he’s done to himself.

“You okay, Shiggy?” You notice he’s slouching as you lay down on the massage table, your s/c skin showing to the crack of your ass.

“Yes, baby. Just talking to the lady,” you quirk your brow.

“The lady has a name, Hand Man,” he rolls his eyes. The conversation is dead and the tension falls but, Shigaraki can’t help but tense when the woman’s hands touch your body. He wants to get up and rip her from your body but he knows he cant. He promised you a normal, perfect day and he’s pretty sure disintegrating a person isn’t either of those things.

He wants to yell as you moan underneath the woman’s hands, pick you up and run you away from her and into the comfort of your own world, fuck you until the only thing you can moan is his name.

“Shiggy, are we still going to the mall after this?” He’s broken from his thoughts of his hands wrapped around your delicate throat.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“Just checking. I know your busy with your job and we’ve already spent a good deal of time here.”

“My job isn’t anywhere near important when it compares to you. I told you I was going to pamper you and that’s exactly what I intend to do,” the lady awws.

“That’s so sweet,” Shigaraki gives her a death glare. “Okay, your time is up. You can always book another appointment at the front desk. Have a great day,” that lady scurried out of that room as quickly as she could.

“Did you say something to her before I came in?” You sit up, breasts showing. Shigaraki.exe has stopped working. “You shouldn’t be mean to people that are doing their job. It’s not polite. Shiggy? HandMan? TENKO. ALPHAAAA PAY ATTENTION AND STOP STARING AT MY TITS.”

“It’s not my fault they’re out. They’re so perfect. Makes me want to,” he’s in front of you as he leans down to swipe his tongue across your left nipple. You whimper as his other hand kneads your other nipple. The leather of his gloves feels wonderful on your smooth skin. “Looks like you want me to do it.”

“Aht aht aht, we still have a full day of shopping till you get to touch me,” you scurry away before he can catch you. Wetness slides down your thigh, making your panties run against your clit with almost every step on the way out. You redressed, knowing your alpha would be able to smell your arousal.

“Aww, someone’s wet.”

“Fuck you, dusty,” it’s silent till you get to the mall. The mall has loud roars every few minutes as the noise is in full swing during the daily rush. Your alpha keeps pulling you even closer to him, lowly growling at anyone who he deems gets too close.

“Alpha, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he’s being curt and you want to pull him away from the mall but, you know that would only bother him further.

You end up in a small boutique in one of the corners of the mall by the name of ‘Kimochi.’ It’s almost as if the entire shop was splattered by a purple bomb with the purple stains floors and lavender painted walls. The racks are silver and there’s white trimming in some areas.

“How’d you know I wanted to come here?” Tenko just smiles as he pushes you further into the shop. You run off to look through the clothes and Shigaraki just stands back to observe you. You look ethereal as you buzz around energetically, your skin looking clear as ever and your eyes lit with a certain happiness that he only sees when the two of you are alone.

He patiently waits to the side of the store as you examine each clothing item, occasionally bringing them up to your body to see if they would fit. You’d given up asking Shigaraki for his approval a long time ago since he always tells you you’d look good in anything (although, there have been a few times that he’d disintegrate whatever he didn’t like).

“Ahhh another Omega. How was your shopping?” A beta attendant was at the counter waiting for you to check out. Your nose shriveled at the mention of your second gender but, you pushed the feeling away and chalked it up to happenstance.

“It was perfect. I love this boutique so much. Here’s my card,” you try to push the card over the counter discretely so Shigaraki wouldn’t see. You’re pretty sure it costs plenty of money to run an entire organization so, this is the least you can do to help your alpha.

“Are you sure? I’m sure your alpha would rather pay for your things,” The attendant looked over at Shigaraki. “On second thought, maybe it’d be best if you paid.”

“What is it you’re trying to insinuate right now? That my alpha can’t provide for me?” You lean over the counter, ready to punch the lady in the face.

“Well, look at his clothes. They’re not the best,” you growl and pounce only to be stopped by your alpha’s arms around your waist. He’s lowly snarling, teeth bared.

“What’s the problem, Omega?” He rubs his hands over your body to ensure you’re fine. “Do I need to handle this?”

“No. This lady was just pushing me a bit too far,” you snatch your stuff off the counter and get ready to walk out with your clothes without paying. Why would you pay after this?

“So, you can’t pay either?” Shigaraki snaps his neck when he turns to face her.

“Omega, what is she referring to?”

“Wellllll,” you blush and look away. You know once he deals with the woman, you’ll be in trouble for trying to pay. “I just wanted to pay for the clothes myself and the woman implied that I was paying because you don’t have the money to do so. Then, I got mad and you came over.”

“Didn’t I tell you I would pay?” He glares down at you. “Why would you try to pay and I told you I would? Are you trying to be disobedient to your alpha? Disobedient to me?”

“I just wanted to help you,” you said in a small voice. “I know the league is expensive.”

“Nothing is too expensive for you. Now, go wait outside while I deal with her,” he pats you on the head, turns you around, and gently pats your butt towards the exit.

Needless to say, while you were outside the store patiently waiting on a chair while swinging your feet beneath you, Tenko was inside gripping the life out of the woman’s face, gloves thrown to the side somewhere in a haphazard attempt to strangle her.

“You should’ve just kept your mouth shut,” Shigaraki grinned as he leaned down to the woman’s ear. “Now, I’ll have to show you what happens when you disrespect my omega.”

“No, no, pleaseeee NO PLEASE. I HAVE KIDS PLEASEEE,” it was too late. The woman’s face was already beginning to decay away, dust coating his hand as he smiled at the woman’s body.

He walked out, the body behind him as he was tugging his gloves on. You noticed a bit of dust on his hoodie so you gently dust him off once he gets close enough for you to touch.

“Did you kill her?”

“Yes. No one. And I mean, NO ONE, disrespects my omega,” you blush. “Now, C’mon, Omega. We’re going home. You still need to be punished,” you gulped and grabbed Tenko’s hand, letting him lead you to your future.

—————————————————————————

TagList💕💕

@sinclairsamess @sakurashortstack

[mathyna]

I present to you my newest OC ( maybe self insert dunno) for Boku no hero academia. I´ve been rewatching the whole thing and fell in love with it once again so I decided to make an OC for it so I can dive deeper :) If you want to know more info about her you can read more under the cut.

A/N - her hair changes a lot, depending on how she brushes it :) so no biggie when there are minor changes

Name: Karasu Tsubasa

Hero name: The Watcher

Gender: Female

Age: 29 years

Birthday: November 19th

Height : 165 cm

Weight: 55 kg

------------------------------

Appearance: Karasu is an average woman. Only at the first glance. She is a slim built short female with mid-back long dark crimson hair. Her face always has a cold-looking expression that sometimes shifts to a disgusted one, depending on the situation, but she rarely has any other. Her jade-colored eyes are rather large ( similar to Ochaco Urarakas), but due to her sleep deprivation, they are always halfway closed with dark circles under them. She usually wears clothes that she feels comfortable in, so you will mostly see her in a hoodie and pants.

-----------------------------

Personality: Karasu is a forced loner due to her quirk which over time made her almost misanthropic, but on the other hand she is a very responsible and kind person. She also has no sense of humor and rarely laughs.

Likes: silence, arts, music, and anything that glows

Dislikes: Loud noises, crowded areas, stupid questions (no sense of humor)

Habits:

Bouncing her leg/legs - She can´t sit still when under pressure, so she´d rather bounce her legs than shake her whole body.

Bat sleeping - Yes, she sleeps like a bat when there is no bed around. How and why? She is no vampire, but she enjoys this position due to its positive effects on her quirk. The more blood she gets into her head the better it works, that's why she has two retractable hooks in her boots so she can just pull them out and hang herself on some ledge. Any ledge or basically anything ( Once she did that in the subway and as the train changed its speed, she slid back and forth in the wagon, people had to sit down- she didn´t give a crap)

Hobbies: She plays guitar, it helps her forget about the constant ramble in her head. She also likes to paint, her thoughts? Are those hers? Nah, she also paints portraits.

Fears: Despite being a misanthropic person and enjoying her alone time, she can´t imagine herself being alone forever. Loneliness and abandonment are her biggest fears, so that´s why she keeps closely in touch with her family. She also has a cat to cope with this fear.

--------------------------------------------

Quirk: Mind control/wing shifter

Mind control - A quirk she inherited after her mother with it being enhanced by her father's quirk which had the ability to sense people in a huge radius around its user. This power is the main reason why she gave up on society. After all, how would you feel if you heard pieced information from hundreds of people around you in your head? Muffled thoughts of strangers. Karasu describes this as white noise in the back of your head that you can´t really hear, but you can feel it. It is like a radio, the closer you are to the station, the better the signal. Basically, she is only able to see and control your thoughts when she has direct visual contact with you, otherwise, she will only receive "echoes" as she calls them. It also has a few big drawbacks. once of them is the inability to sleep -

,, Sometimes I don´t know if I´m dreaming or seeing someone else's thoughts." - Karasu Tsubasa

and constant headaches for which she carries special painkillers.

Wing shifter: By her words, this ability is only useful for movement and repositioning while she works otherwise there is nothing else, but she kind of likes this quirk, because it comes in handy in certain situations.

For example :

Feather wings - mostly used in combat she hadn´t found any other use

Bat wings - good use in combat but she uses them to wrap herself and sleep as mentioned before...

Dragonfly - useless and useless. Although when it´s hot outside they make a good cooling breeze.

Butterfly - no use, maybe only for the entertainment of her younger family members

----------------------------

Hero carrier:

Karasu as The Watcher is a pro-hero info broker. Even tho she hates working with others, she is most beneficial when working with people. Not that she is useless when on her own. When working with people, Karasu can be considered as an information giver and far effect restrainer. By the strength of the noise, loudness, and clearness of the thoughts in her head she can sense how many and how far are the people they are potentially looking for. When visual contact is initiated with the enemy, she can momentarily cripple their movement and thinking - can be applied to a large group of people, but the bigger the group the shorter duration of the effect. If she´s seen, she can quickly reposition herself - preferring high grounds.

Hero outfit:

Her hero outfit is quite simple. She didn´t want it to be anything too flashy, but also show who she is. She wears a silver crow mask with a cloth over the beak and darkened eye sockets. She usually wears a hood over her head to cover her hair. Overall it is a very dark outfit with a little color to it.

Equipment:

Sharp edges on her gloves - talon-like, foam grenades, paralyzing chemicals (dipping her talons in them)

She prefers to immobilize her target and leave the dirty work for someone else when she works with someone. She also does that when a bigger operation is on and she has to reposition herself. In other cases, she just deals with the target.

Karasu also sets small traps around herself to alert her when someone is sneaking around.

----------------------------

Occupation: U.A. teacher (current)

She actually enjoys being a teacher (even if it means socializing) since she can help the new generation of heroes grow and get stronger.

Karasu has other classes than 1. A, but it seems like the kids grew on her a bit. Well, everyone except Minoru Mineta - once she tried to restrain his thoughts from being the way they are around females and it ended up in both of them freaking out. She doesn´t want to go near him after that.

-----------------------------

Stats-

Power: 3/5

Speed: 4/5

Technique: 2/5

Intelligence: 5/5

Cooperativeness: 3/5

----------------------------

Backstory:

Born in south Japan, Karasu lived a normal life. She was just that weird kid you´d expect her to be. Quiet and not trusting towards people. Her first quirk appeared at the age of 7 when she formed her first wings. Her reaction was,, Cool." Her second quirk appeared much later at the age of 11 which caused her misanthropy. At that age, her father was killed during one of the operations, because he wasn´t able to see the enemy sneaking from behind him as he was so focused on one area. It didn't change the fact that thanks to him, people were saved. That´s when she decided to be a hero like her dad was. She studied at Shiketsu High school and became the info broker she is now. Later she moved away from her family and started teaching at her former high school. That didn't last long due to it not meeting her expectations ( mostly newer students enrolling in) and her pay-check not being enough to pay her bills, so once again, with the help of her family she moved and started her carrier at U.A. High school where she currently resides.

A/N - I wanted the backstory to be as short as possible. Details are in her case a waste of time since we won't be focusing on the past that much

----------------------------

Random facts : (Stuff I didn´t know where to put or I will express them later)

- She finds smart humor funny, that´s maybe the only thing she laughed at

- She loves salmon sashimi and black tea

- Her cat is 16 years old and she had it ever since it was a kitten

- Her personality is a bit forced as mentioned before, she can be very caring when she has a chance and actually enjoys QUIET company

- when she was in middle school Karasu forced a teacher to tell her the right answers for a test (not once), it got her into a lot of trouble

- Nobody ever wanted to argue with her nor talk much in general

- She prefers animal company because their thoughts make different noises than humans. Every species has its own.

- Her hair is actually chaotic since the first 3/4 are relatively healthy but the ends are so damaged that she refused to brush them, so she keeps this bush there.

- When at home, she wears anything she finds or maybe she doesn't wear anything, depending on her level of rationality that day.

- Speaking of rationality, on her first day at U.A. she came into the class through the window since she decided it would take too much time getting off the tree and walking up the stairs, so she flew up into the window. Great first impression

- She teaches positioning and information gathering

- She is putting up with Bakugous bullcrap

- Aizawa doesn´t let her read his thoughts and every time she´s around him, he puts up the effort to erase her quirk

- Aizawa's quirk erasure hurts her. How? Imagine being in a silent room for a week and then someone would blast a 300% volume up siren in that closed room. This is how she feels when he stops his erasure

- "Cat-like" sleeping habits. Like, this lady can sleep anywhere

- Easy problems are difficult for her since her sense of logic is affected by how she slept

- Enjoys night flights and star-gazing, nothing like a clear sky full of stars, a city full of glowing lights, and cool night air

- Can´t do anything with tools - trying to hammer a nail into the wall? Do NOT call Karasu if you want your wall to be there the next day

- Can cook but somehow always ends up burned or cutting herself despite her not injuring herself during work

- Keeps her hands in her hoodie pockets like all the time, so when she falls, she falls flat on the face

[the-fiction-witch]

I'm being torchered

REAL LIFE SCANDAL

COUPLE TBS X READER

RATING SWEET

"hello, and welcome to a lovely, gentle and peaceful video" y/n smiled sitting at her table in her little dress

".... Is it opposite day again? Or have you just finally lost it love?" Thomas spoke up as he sat beside her

She turned and glared at him leaving him looking rather afraid "I'm sorry darling"

"Thank you." She smiled "now Thomas what are we doing today?"

"I have no idea, I was just told to put pants on and sit at the table?"

"I wrote it on the schedule which is on the fridge"

"When do I look at the fridge?"

"Everyday to get milk to fill up your coffee machine"

"You think I'm in a mood to read? Before coffee? I didn't even speak to you until I've had coffee and your my wife"

"Okay" she sighed "so, recently a few celebrities have been releasing there own nail polish lines now this is not really news because it happens alot along with make up and clothing lines that celebrities come out with now the reason this has been getting attention is that a few of them are men"

"Okay?"

"Is it something you've considered Thomas? Releasing a nail polish line?"

"Not really no"

"What about a make up line?"

"Not really. Maybe one day when I move into directing maybe I'll release a vodka or something?"

"Maybe turn to wine making?"

"Yeah. That's like maybe the closest thing I'd do."

"Just release wines with weird names"

"No. I'd name them nice things, probably name one after you, and the girls would get a wine each, one after my mum yeah I'd be good"

"Anyway. I don't get why it's a big deal, okay for these male celebrities to come out with nail polish like it's no more interesting then katy perry coming out with nail polish."

"Tell us why y/n,"

"I think it's because, in my personal opinion. Things like nail polish and make up too make up comes into this, there is no reason for it to be gendered, really it isn't gendered like you don't get like ladies polish or ladies lipstick it's just stuff anyone can use it, I mean colouring your nails especially to thats not just a female thing men and women did it though put history same with make up, there's no reason they should be considered as gendered a man can we're nail polish and look great, a man can where make up, hell some wear it better then some women."

"You so think clothes are gendered thought don't you?"

"Certain clothes. Yes." She nods "but that's more of a design thing though. Like underwear, boxers are designed for cocks wear as panties are designed for pussys, a woman can wear boxers and a man can wear panties it they want I don't care but i don't have an issue with gendering them because they have a different design maybe don't gender them but"

"Diferenciate"

"Yeah" she nods "I've worn boxers before there fine still comfy but like a bra is designed for boobs, if you have boobs probably wear a bra."

"I do know some men who honestly of you gave them a bra they might be better off because they do have boobs. I've worn your underwear before... It wasn't fun, because for that reason its not designed for my anatomy"

"You didn't wanna say your dick did you?"

"I did not no, maybe get rid of men's and women's and just have"

"For pussy, for dick"

"Yeah"

"Make it different for like comfort not anything else"

"Or maybe someone needs to develop like genderless designs?"

"Yeah maybe. But like men wearing dresses, I don't care do it if you want to, I've heard people say it's comfy like compared to something like skinny jeans"

"Yeah, I imagine so. Because I imagine its like when you only have a towel or like loose fitting sweatpants, just cosy and comfy"

"Yeah, and anyone man, woman or fucking toaster wants to get in a pair of heels. Do so. If you want that torcher then go for it mate,"

"Yeah, I feel that way about bras wear whatever you want, and if you choose to wear one of those fuckers then I applaud you because having worn a bra for a week I can attest they are horrible"

"This was a long rant"

"It was"

"Now! Today. I am going to paint your nails"

"Ohh. That's why I'm here. Okay. Can I choose?"

"Yes you can" she smiled throwing a tub of likely hundreds of nail polishes in the table

"This may take time."

"Have you selected Thomas?"

"Yes! I have it may have took some time that I hope sally will edit out"

"What did you choose?"

"I chose black to be edgy, then a cool what do you call this?"

"Unicorn skin. Or iridescent flakes"

"Yes. You said to keep it fairly simple so I did."

"I'm still surprised you didn't pick the crackle effect one"

"Yeah but I've seen you with it and I know you can't like control how it cracks so sometimes one nail looks shit"

"Yeah that's true. Are ready?"

"I think so."

"Good, I will point out I cleaned his jail before this. Because.... Mostly just because I wanted to be sure" she says as she began to work

"My nails where that bad"

"I've seen them worse, but you had just changed the girls so I wanted to make doubly sure"

"That's fair. What are you doing to me?"

"I'm oiling your cuticles"

"My who what's?"

"Sshhhhh Thomas" she says

"Owww! Owww! What are you doing that hurts!"

"Shhhh"

"Owww! Owwwwww! I'm being torchered!" He yelped

"You big baby." She giggled "there I stopped. Now it's filing time"

"Do you need to file my nails? I thought they where okay?"

"I need to file an edge or too yeah then we base coat"

"Ooohh that's weird that is a weird sensation"

"You file your nails?"

"Ish. I file them when they bug me. Mostly I bite them"

"I know. Bad boy do not bite your nails!"

"I can't help it. It's automatic at this point. Especially then I want a ciggertte"

"You have started with toothpicks now which is good"

"Yeah, it helps because it gives my hands and mouth something to do. So I don't smoke"

"You've been doing really good actually. At cutting down" she says base coat time."

"Yeah, down to a pack per two weeks which is pretty damn good"

"I recall one point in our lives you literally got thought like a pack per two days"

"I did. I feel better now though for cutting down a bit especially with the girls around, I did my best while you where pregnant, basically made a rule I only smoked outside in the shed and I changed my jacket before I came back in the house."

"And I thank you for that Thomas"

"Well I had to for the girls. Plus you have asthma anyway so there was a good chance one of them would end up with it too"

"That's true. No tells as of yet if either do but going to make sure to monitor them" she explained "now we too coat or taco as Cristine says"

"She's the nail lady you watch"

"She is. I also have slme of her nail polish because tis good shit" she explained "all done! Do you feel beautiful Thomas?"

"My hands feel heavy"

"They will till you get use to it"

"They look cool and you did a good job, in just concerned now that I can't bite my nails. And that I can't see if there dirty because I can't see those my nails anymore. But they look lovely thank you dear"

"Your welcome. Now can we do a video where I do your make up?"

"Nope."

[whateverafterhigh]

Worldbuilding Succession Systems: Goodfallow

Most of what we see or hear when it comes to the succession systems in the universe that Ever After High is set in relates to fairytales and the inheritance of specific character roles. Many of the fairytale royalty are born into their royal bloodlines or otherwise marry in. But there are some kingdoms where things aren’t as easy as that. One such kingdom is the Good King’s Kingdom – which I named Goodfallow in another post.

The Good King is a fairytale character, but his role in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is small. In fact, depending on the adaption of the story you read he might have already died by the time the story has officially begun. He’s not quite dead yet in the series, seeing as he’s still raising Raven Queen, but it is never acknowledged that Raven is in line for the throne. Not even as a “Hey, maybe Raven has her dad’s destiny…” kind of way, which you would expect given Raven is constantly fighting for any destiny other than her mother’s. Going that route might seem like too easy a fix to acknowledge in the series, especially early on, no matter how powerful a red herring that would be for the readers. It could have even been used to make Grimm start to worry on whether or not he actually guessed right when it comes to writing the fake book. Grimm doubting himself would have been great, even more so if it’s a big thing to have forgotten that the Good King needs an heir too.

The potential for drama aside, there must have been something else that made everyone think they were right so conclusively (and I’m not speaking of the gendered characters, there are too many female characters who have their father’s destinies for that to be the reason).

Then I had an idea.

The Goodfallow Crown

I wanted to create a succession system for Goodfallow that would be able to stand up to the Storybook of Legends on something akin to even ground. Obviously, I didn’t want it to have such a grand scale. But I knew I wanted something magical, and I knew I wanted it to be possible that the Storybook of Legends (the original) could guess wrong. (I mean what even is the point of having an antagonist as powerful and insufferable as Headmaster Grimm if he wasn’t able to grasp at some straws to save face and avoid even the harshest of punishments?). Still I wanted Grimm to be arrogant enough that he wouldn’t have worried about Raven’s position as the Evil Queen until she was throwing the book in his face on Legacy Day.

This meant I needed something with so many possibilities that something like the Storybook of Legends would have a hard time even coming up with the most likely outcome for the Next Good King. Something that could be affected up until the moment that the Good King has been crowned. And something that had the magical power to break the magical contract to the Storybook of Legends that signing it would create without extensive repercussions – something that would cause a page to fall out on its own if need be.

Also it needed to be something that played into what a Good King should be, it is what is choosing the reigning monarch after all.

In Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the Evil Queen is defined by her attitude and treatment of the kingdom’s people, so it only makes sense that the Good King be defined in the same way. So I played with the idea of the Good King being an elected position that passed down the bloodline out of convenience and all the things that real life kings and queens have to do to make sure that the people don’t start up a revolution. Something like the Sword in the Stone from King Arthur’s legends could do that, the same could be said for Thor’s Hammer (though I wasn’t actually thinking of Mjolnir when spider-mapping ideas).

I couldn’t see it being an actual sword, as cool as it would be for the Good King to actually have the kingdom’s blessing of sorts to raise his sword at those who wronged him. And after reading the fairytale Prince Darling, where there is a ring that pricks the young Prince on the finger every time he does something wrong in hopes that it will make him into a good person, I thought of using a crown.

The Goodfallow Crown, named such because it is the physical manifestation of the collective will of all the citizens of Goodfallow ticks a lot of the boxes for what I wanted.

It’s magic, powerful enough to break the bindings created by the Storybook of Legends because I’m the author and I say so. A lot of citizens in Goodfallow mean a lot of different possibilities for whether or not they think a candidate is the best for the Good King. It can still be meddled with before the inheritance ceremony, popularity and propaganda are going to be important – the same goes for whether or not a candidate knows what they’re doing. In turn this could be what makes Grimm so arrogant in his assertions that Raven will have her mother’s destiny.

The students at Ever After High are shown to be scared of Raven to the point they scream and run away from her. At the start of the books she assumes that this is just a side effect from her destiny as her mother had mentioned that something of the sort would happen when she reached a certain age. But it could be argued that this has more to do with how bullying of Raven (or any supposedly-evil-aligned character) was encouraged by Grimm or other members of the faculty, high tensions from how close Legacy Day is for her etc. Because Raven does get more popular as the books go on, and because the characters act a similar way in the beginning of the show’s canon it could be argued that she get’s popular enough to win Thronecoming.

But it’s not just Raven’s lack of popularity. Grimm makes all the final class decisions when it comes to what subject’s students can take, so he can ensure that Raven never takes classes that would prepare her for being the Good King (Kingdom Management, Throne Economics, etc…) and then there’s the low possibility that the people of Goodfallow would accept someone who willingly signs up to potentially marry the king of a neighbouring country, abuse their power, and even get arrested or die before having kids as their Ruler. This is one case where the Storybook of Legends doesn’t need to be real for the damage to be done. And Grimm has no reason to not be arrogant about his guesses until Legacy Day where Raven declares she wants to write her own destiny on the in-verse equivalent of international television he’s not going to worry too much.

The tangent into Grimm’s motives and assumptions show that having Goodfallow’s succession system be like this will only add another layer to some of the things going on in the series, and this can even be applied to other characters too. Raven would have grown up in a kingdom where your actions mean more then what you say, so even agreeing to sign the Storybook of Legends and live her own life after would have not been in the cards for her (not to mention it would cheapen Apple’s own story if she asked that of Raven), and Queen White would have also grown up in Goodfallow given the Good King is her father as well, and that could add a really interesting layer to her own character and her obsession with popularity. Especially in the context of the Class of Classics comic which shows that Snow was once a studious student like Apple was but has now seemingly forgone that in favour of focusing on popularity (which is the same in the books as well as Dragon Games). It certainly speaks of there being more to her character then what we’ve gotten.

Now it’s just a matter of figuring out how the Good Fallow Crown works.

It seems a bit much to have someone attempt to wear the crown for the first time on their coronation, and I’m also understanding of the fact that it’s technically headwear and therefore can’t get heavier if the kingdom seems to disagree with an idea or something else – also Goodfallow isn’t a hivemind? So there would need to be some kind of inheritance test. Perhaps for officially declaring a Crown Prince or Princess.

Historically, Crown Princes or Princesses seem to given the title when they are ready for it. With the announcement happening sometime between the ages of fourteen and eighteen, unless their parents were dead, and they were ruling through a Regent. Raven is fifteen when Legacy Day takes place so sixteen seems like a more reasonable time for the ceremony to happen. Though obviously some of the kingdoms would name their children the Crown Prince or Princess earlier (I’m thinking Briar and Hopper might have been given their titles when their Magic Touch developed, given its significance to their stories).

So the sixteen year old heir would try the crown on. It would be impractical for the circle of people who can hold or lift the crown to be small a la Thor’s Hammer, especially when it’s the literal Will of the People. So, magical girl transformation?

Very basic, plain clothes are to be worn with no jewellery – because you might lose it otherwise. If the people agree with the Prince or Princess being a good candidate for the throne then they’ll get decked out in finery when the magic is a match. If not then there’s no change. (Not that that prevents rumours from spreading to the contrary).

“Rumour has it the Evil Queen tried to wear the crown once and it set her on fire.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that’s why her hair is like that now.”

Of course, the changes don’t stop at the Inheritance Ceremony. Just because the Goodfallow Crown doesn’t get infinitely heavier when the Good King does something the people don’t agree with that doesn’t mean that nothing happens. Raven’s dad is described as being bald in the books, and I like to think that the reason for that is the people of Goodfallow not agreeing with him marrying the Evil Queen, while still understanding why he did it. But there would likely be other affects as well. Such as increased stress, anxiety, paranoia, etc. Maybe a lack of motivation in his day to day life? I don’t know, but the Goodfallow Crown does take the phrase “Heavy is the head that wears the crown” to a whole new meaning.

I love the whole thought of this, as evidenced by the fact it takes up almost three whole pages in a Word Document. Definitely one of my favourite pieces of worldbuilding I’ve done for any fandom ever.

[jacksjoke]

Title: red hearts Pairing: Teh/Oh-Aew, but mostly an Oh-Aew-centered story Summary: Based on head-canons regarding Oh-Aew's relationship with gender, Teh, and life in general. Ao3 link

     Oh-Aew closes in on himself. He doesn’t mean for it when it happens; it’s just the way he’s been for as far back as his memory can tell. Simply, he wants to take up less space than he does.

     He once came across a turtle living near the resort, a baby nearly the size of Oh-Aew’s childish fists put together; in a flash had adopted the abandoned creature into his family. The turtle disappeared within two days and Oh-Aew may have been young, but the sight of the nest he’d put together all torn didn’t leave much to the imagination as to what happened.

     He fell back from his knees onto his bottom, hugging himself while tears welled hot in his eyes. He swiped slim wrists across his cheeks and paid no mind to the sand that stung them in turn. Oh-Aew didn’t move from his vigil for an hour, not until his mother came searching for their lunch-time, and she simply put an arm around her son to let him cry.

     He loved his island because it was a safe bubble in which to spend his days, but to lose the turtle he’d wanted to care for was another moment to remind Oh-Aew how fleeting everything really is.

     He had a crush on a girl, not long after that afternoon. She had an adorable haircut, curls that didn’t quite reach her shoulders, and they even shared a favourite colour. He admired everything about her, from her patterned skirts to the hearts that she’d drawn onto her sneakers with red marker.

     The pair have so much in common they might as well have been friends forever, so he doesn’t feel weird asking to try on her sneakers. When she says that her checkered bottoms would look cute with them, he eagerly accepts. They’re a little shorter than those he’s used to, but he likes the way he looks in them regardless. And the shoes are so lovely he’s tempted in that second to ask his parents for white sneakers just so he can decorate them with hearts to match hers.

     But his crush leaves the island at the close of her holiday, and with her takes all the clothes Oh-Aew is going to miss, for a reason he doesn’t fully understand yet.

     (Looking back, he’d recognise that he didn’t have a romantic crush as much as he had a friendly one — he wanted to be like her more than he wanted to be with her.)

     When his mother takes him shopping next, Oh-Aew’s attention deviates in the small shop to the section meant for girls, and he asks why he can’t get a pair of shorts from over there, they’re comfortable and cute. She glances at the clothing then at Oh-Aew, but instead of saying anything she just puts her arm around him and guides him away.

     Oh-Aew had a problem with permanence, really. Growing up on the island meant homeschooling; homeschooling meant that the only kids he could play with were those like his crush. They stopped by on holiday, thus amounting to friendships that were all too brief to be anything substantial.

     In a world where the most permanent aspect of life is impermanence, Oh-Aew wanted to find something to be the one constant he could rely on. If he could have nothing else for sure, to take up space by having at least one thing would be nice.

     In entering junior high on the mainland, Teh became that for Oh-Aew. Because Oh-Aew mentioned it once, Teh would go out of his way to prepare Oh-Aew’s preferred meal of rice vermicelli; all the other boys would eat just about anything put in front of them in seconds flat and Oh-Aew would have expected Teh to make fun of him for being so picky, but he never did.

     Oh-Aew is the one Teh treated differently, in a good way. He wanted Oh-Aew around; no holiday to end their friendship, no strings. And as they spent more of their days together Oh-Aew came to depend on those hours as something important, special.

     He was certain Teh was on the same page until the night he accused Oh-Aew of being a snake in the grass, an incident which sent Oh-Aew right back to square one. Nothing gold can stay, and all that.

     In the beginning of their rekindled relationship Oh-Aew felt that maybe things would work out. Those laughter-filled few weeks were as magical as anything he’d ever experienced, a dream come true in nearly every aspect. The only niggling issue was the way Oh-Aew’s hope diminished a bit more with each day that brought him closer to leaving Phuket.

     Change is inevitable, losing people to that change is as natural a part of life as birth and death. Sometimes he isn’t even sure that he knows who he is now, so it can’t be possible that he’ll be the same person in Bangkok; besides, the person he is has only ever lived on this resort and has spent three days at most out of town.

     Whoever he will be at uni is someone unknown to Oh-Aew, and although Teh doesn’t seem half as conscious of it as Oh-Aew always is, they’re in the same terrifyingly unsteady boat. What if they change too much and no longer recognise each other? What if, all but strangers, they have no choice but to break instead of bend? Here in their familiar home it’s Teh and Oh-Aew, Oh-Aew and Teh, the package deal.

     But Bangkok doesn’t know that. It won’t care, either; not like the warm seawater does when it splashes over their legs, not like the cashier at the convenience store does when she laughs at Teh’s embarrassed indecision. That night on the shore, Teh had insisted that the future would only bring better things, and Oh-Aew wanted badly to believe him.

     Not too long into the future Teh had anticipated, Oh-Aew sees clearly that Bangkok doesn’t care for them, as it turns out. He can tell first-hand as he and Teh drift apart. If Phuket was the persistent but unhurried tide tossing them always into each other’s arm, this city is a tidal wave hurling them further and further into opposite, murky waters.

     More than one occasion finds Oh-Aew curled in on himself as he tries to sort through muddled feelings about his supposed path in life; the recurring dreams he’s had since the night he’d stolen a bra from his mother (from even earlier than then, if he’s being honest); the fear that too much change will send Teh running. He pictures Teh taking off in the shoes Oh-Aew had bought, the small red heart patched onto each sneaker’s toe like a sign of… something.

     He holds his knees to his chest, or he wraps his arms tight around his chest and tries to compress his body into nothing more than an imploded star lightyears away so he doesn’t have to think about any of it anymore. Teh is supposed to be his constant, but Oh-Aew can’t shake his paradoxical worry that he will lose Teh for that very reason. He wants Oh-Aew and won’t leave, for now. He’s permanent, for now.

     Nearly two anniversaries have been celebrated after so much time wasted and his love for Teh has never wavered in his heart, but neither has that incessant worry. Some nights, Oh-Aew is more convinced than anything that his constant isn’t Teh. It’s fear.

     Be more manly. I want you to be like a man.

     His mother isn’t here now to put a comforting arm around him, or even to pull him away from the things Oh-Aew can’t help feeling drawn toward.

     That director had taken a cursory look at Oh-Aew and established his identity in seconds flat, despite that Oh-Aew is only half sure of who he is at any given moment. To that stranger he met for a few minutes a month ago, Oh-Aew will always be the kid too gay to even pretend to like girls, someone with too delicate a voice and movements too soft to belong to any real man.

     He’s still the kid who cried over a turtle he had for a day and wanted to put on a bra to prove something to himself and to the boy he felt so much for. He is, isn’t he?

     Oh-Aew doesn’t have sisters, therefore had no access to makeup or that sort of stuff easily growing up. He slowed in passing a boutique on one of his first days in Bangkok, mesmerised by the rows upon rows of products he couldn’t begin to name. For a split second, Oh-Aew imagines walking in to find the lipstick he’d seen on a billboard; it was a brilliant red, shimmering as red as an apple, and he takes a step.

     Stops — thinks how much more difficult it would be to find friends if he’s labeled ‘the boy who shops for makeup.’ He keeps walking and the loss is eased by the appearance of the infamous sneakers that same afternoon. A sign, all right.

     So when he spots the nail polish on Q’s bathroom counter one study get-together, he hesitates. There are three bottles lined up there; the cobalt shade Q likes so much, yellow to match Minnie Mouse’s heels, and a red that Oh-Aew is reaching for before he can think about it. If Q can wear makeup and tinted chapstick, Oh-Aew can certainly put on nail polish too.

     Nobody in the group questions why Oh-Aew wanders back in, trance-like, with the polish. Plug just smiles widely and suggests a nail-painting party, which Maengpong encourages in wholehearted agreement. He just wants to get out of studying, of course, and in his and Plug’s case this will surely end up with more polish on each other’s arms than anywhere near their nails, but it’s still a nice gesture.

     Oh-Aew coats the fingers of his left hand, slightly shaky without practice, but it doesn’t look too bad. He pauses when he has to switch, though, and Q spots his friend’s pursed lips as soon as they appear. He gives a soft grin, taking the tiny brush to help.

     The night ends with Oh-Aew’s fingertips beautifully red, Teh’s motorbike no match to the shine of Oh-Aew’s nails. He lifts his gaze from his hands to meet Q’s crinkled, non-judgmental eyes, and Oh-Aew smiles.

     Fear is his constant, but it’s also true that Oh-Aew’s locked himself into having only one out of the certainty that he realistically could have none.

     He wants to try taking more for himself. More space, more to hold onto, all of it.

     His subconscious attempts had been halted that day when he was just a kid, picked back up when he found the sneakers at the mall; they’ve continued with his move out of communications and into a field in which he knows he can just be himself. No pretending. No acting. He’ll have painted nails and won’t be told to be more of a man, because that isn’t who he is and it never has been.

     He was born for the role he has: being himself, as he finds him. And the show’s not even started yet.