#someone come shut me up

[aq2003]

i feel like he's choosing his words carefully bc he doesn't want it to blow up in his face but personally i think he should be legally allowed to kill the tory politicians making his criticism of them the center of their campaigns

[devildom-moss]

I really love your series on Mc giving everyone a kiss on the cheek. Can I ask for the reverse? Where they give a kiss on the cheek or something similar (a gift, perhaps?) for their Mc?

Okay, so this ask is going to take me a while, so I'm going to split it up. I hope you don't mind. I didn't quite go with the same PDA premise for this one - hope that's okay. So, what I did was I thought about who would be more likely to give a kiss on the cheek, a gift, or both. So part 1 of this request will be both. I hope you like it if you see this (sorry it took me so long to get to this, by the way).

Signs of Affection (kiss + gift)

(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Leviathan x gn!MC) (Diavolo x gn!MC) (Barbatos x gn!MC) (Simeon x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +4,500

Lucifer

It was starting to get late when your D.D.D. buzzed. Lucifer was on an extended business trip with Diavolo and had taken to sending you secret good-night texts before he went to bed. Apparently, he didn’t think he could go five days without contacting you. He had even called on the third day just to hear your voice. With an affectionate smile, you checked your D.D.D. However, this message wasn’t what you were expecting.

Lucifer: Please go to my office.

You were confused – solely because you expected his office to be empty. Lucifer would be gone until tomorrow morning. Perhaps he had something valuable teleported there?  Whatever it was, if Lucifer was willing to say “please,” you figured it was important. Your heart jumped from your chest when you walked into the room and saw Lucifer sitting back in a chair with one leg crossed over the other.

“There you are.” He looked at you seductively, waiting for you to get closer so he could pounce. “Come in.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.” You made no attempt to hide your smile. It was nice to see him earlier than expected, but it made you wonder. “So, did things go really well or was it a disaster – for you to be back early, that is?”

“Let’s say it went well.” Lucifer smirked, unwilling to admit that he had all but begged Diavolo to allow him to return home early. If Diavolo hadn’t felt bad for Lucifer being ogled at throughout the trip – not to mention being hit on during three separate occasions by different nobles and a rather forward marriage proposal, he might have insisted that Lucifer stayed the extra half a day. Diavolo had noticed that Lucifer was uncomfortable the second he was away from polite company, and he had only seen Lucifer genuinely smile when he was on his phone and on the first morning when they were out window shopping before their meeting. So, Lucifer took an earlier train back, leaving Barbatos and Diavolo alone for one more night of mingling. By the time he got back, Lucifer was exhausted – although not so exhausted that he couldn’t carve out some time for his beloved human. “Sit, have a drink with me.”

You took the seat next to him and he handed you a chilled glass of Demonus he had already poured in anticipation of your arrival. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Not in the slightest – although it might have gone better if you were with me.”

“Oh no. What happened?”

“Nothing important. Now,” Lucifer started, uncrossing his legs and leaning closer to you, “did you miss me?”

“It wasn’t even five days, Lucifer.” You rolled your eyes. “I won’t die of loneliness.”

“Oh? I thought I was supposed to be the cruel one.” Lucifer leaned down and grabbed the leg of your chair, pulling you closer – and, quite ungracefully, causing a bump in the rug. You were left between his legs, and Lucifer used his newly obtained proximity to run his hand up your thigh. “I missed you terribly. I was dying of loneliness.”

“How many drinks did you have before I arrived?” you sighed.

“This is the first one, I’m afraid.” Lucifer swirled the Demonus in his glass before setting it down. Only then did you notice the small box sitting behind the bottle on the table. His eyes followed yours, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Curious?”

“Souvenir from your trip?”

“Almost.” Lucifer scooped up the box before returning his gaze to you. He stared, expectant and almost sad. “Just tell me you missed me – even if you’re lying.”

“I waited up for your texts every night. Of course I missed you.” You caressed his cheek, and teased, “you soft, baby boy.”

“Confession accepted. Close your eyes,” Lucifer instructed. You agreed, but not without rolling them once more. You heard him open the box and felt him take your hand before slipping something onto your wrist. Still, you kept your eyes shut – even as he turned your hand over and kissed your wrist – until he gave you the signal. He turned your hand back around, continuing to hold it, and said, “okay. You can open them.”

It was a bracelet with round, black crystal beads. When the light hit them at the right angle, you could see flashes of red. It kind of reminded you of “. . . your eyes.”

“What?” Lucifer asked.

“It reminds me of your eyes,” you admitted, looking between the stones and his eyes. “They’re both beautiful.”

Lucifer’s cheeks grew pink, and he cleared his throat before mentioning, “it’s made of Hell-Sheen Obsidian. It’s a rare stone that can only be harvested from the lava that forms within a volcano near the location of our business trip. The volcano has been dormant for centuries, and genuine pieces are hard to come by. They offer the wearer strong protection. I want you to wear it when I’m not around to watch over you.”

It hadn’t escaped you that Lucifer had yet to release your hand, so you brought his knuckles to your lips. The soft kiss only made Lucifer’s blush deepen. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

“Thank you, my love.” Lucifer leaned in and kissed your cheek affectionately. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, the reds of his irises glimmering in the dim light. “What do you say we take advantage of my early return, and you spend the rest of the night with me?”

Leviathan

There was an off-beat knock at your door – like someone had hesitated to commit to the knock. The awkward noise was followed by an equally uncomfortable, “Uhm, MC? Are you there?”

“Levi?” you asked, sitting up in your bed. It was already well past dinner, and you had laid down with your D.D.D., so you weren’t expecting someone to interrupt your mindless, pre-sleep scrolling. “Gimme a sec.”

You got out of bed to unlock the door and found Levi standing anxiously in the hallway, clutching something close to his chest. Hoping to ease some of his tension, you invited him into your room. He followed with the nervous energy of someone who was doing something he probably shouldn’t.

With the door shut, you questioned him, “Are you okay?”

“I – yeah. Here.” Levi thrust the item he was holding in your direction. It was a box, wrapped in Azuki-tan paper – no doubt something that Levi had wrapped himself.

“What’s this for?” You took the package from his hands, politely ignoring the small yelp he made when your fingers grazed his.

“For, um – to thank you, you know, for helping me cram before the exam the other day.” Levi’s cheeks began to flush, but he continued, rushing his words as he tried to explain. “You didn’t have to do that, but because of you, I passed, and I don’t have to take extra classes over the weekend, which means I can watch Chocolate Heartbreak stream their mini concert live tomorrow. And I know I thanked you at the time, but I wanted to thank you again because I’m really happy that you decided to help a gross otaku like me – even though you probably didn’t have any fun because who has fun studying with a shut in? But anyway, thank you.”

“Oh, Levi, baby, breathe.” He hadn’t taken a single breath during that last part. You put your hand on his head and rubbed him gently, hoping to calm him down. While he did take a few slow, steady breaths, his heart only raced, and his cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink. “Thank you for the present, really, but I had a good time studying with you. I was happy to help. And you aren’t gross, either.”

Levi covered his face with his hands and murmured, “thank you.”

You chuckled at his cuteness. “Can I open it now?”

Instead of words, Levi simply nodded. You carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a charm with chibi drawings of the members of Chocolate Heartbreak, a matching sticker, and a brown tin with a red broken heart and each of the members in cute poses around the sides of the tin. Inside was an assortment of themed candies and cookies. Levi peeked through his fingers to watch your reaction. When you smiled, he found the courage to speak again.

“Chocolate Heartbreak did a collab with Madam Devian’s and a local artist to put out a themed snack tin to promote their mini concert. I ordered a few, but I made sure to buy one specifically for you.” Levi stared at your hands, holding the tin. “Well, uhm, I was thinking maybe we could eat them together while we watch the concert live tomorrow – if you want to!”

“Of course! I’d love to.” You smiled at him.

Levi looked up, his mouth agape as if he wasn’t expecting you to accept so enthusiastically. His mouth opened and closed, as if to speak, before he managed to mumble something out. “. . . you.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You asked, getting slightly closer. Levi rubbed his arm nervously.

“I love you!” he blurted out. Levi quickly leaned in to kiss your cheek before attempting to flee. However, you caught his arm before he could make his escape, and pulled him in, kissing his lips sweetly – and, for the sake of his heart, briefly.

“I love you, too. Now, I’ll see you tomorrow to watch the concert. Goodnight, Levi.” You grinned and let him go, but not without teasingly adding, “unless you want to spend the night, that is.”

“N-not at this time! Thank you. Good night!” Levi was a ball of giddiness and nerves as he slithered out of your grasp and ran away down the hall. How in the Devildom was he going to get to sleep now?

Diavolo

It was hard to know exactly what to expect when Diavolo called you to the castle – with instructions to head directly to his room once you arrived. Usually, he would joke around or send some kind of flirty sticker to indicate that this was a purely social call. He had just returned from a business trip, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had heard something troubling on his trip – or maybe someone had spread some unsavory rumors that reached him upon his return. Everyone had been well behaved enough, though. Still, if Diavolo was in a bad mood, you weren’t particularly thrilled to have to deal with it, but you had already agreed to meet with him. Besides, Diavolo wasn’t usually scary, and no matter how bad his mood was, he had never been mean to you before – indifferent, perhaps, but not actively cruel.

Either way, you readied yourself for needing to verbally defend the brothers or yourself as you tapped at his door. To your relief, the “enter” from the other side of the door didn’t sound too upset.

Diavolo had been sitting on his sofa, staring at a black box on his coffee table. He immediately perked up, standing to his feet, when he realized the knock had come from you. A smile grew on his face as he exclaimed, “You’re early.”

“I was in town – not too far from the castle. Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“Not at all,” Diavolo laughed. “I’d much prefer to see you than anyone else – just don’t tell Barbatos.”

Diavolo brought his finger to his lips. You laughed, letting the tension in your body go. Based on his reception of you, it was clear that you hadn’t been called for something too grave. “So, I take it I’m not in trouble today?”

Once again, Diavolo laughed. He looked down, and when his eyes returned to you, they had a mischievous glint – something more boyishly charming than befitting royalty. In a smooth, tempting tone, he teased, “Why, did you do something bad, MC? Should I punish you?

“Only if I get to punish you the next time that you’re bad,” you teased back with a smirk. Diavolo’s eyes widened, and he felt his cheeks burn. Pleased that you had successfully flustered the prince, you answered him honestly, “I’m kidding. I didn’t do anything bad, but your message seemed so serious. I was racking my brain trying to figure out if I had done something wrong while you were away.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, I was exhausted when I sent that message,” Diavolo admitted, ashamed that he had made you worry. “The only reason I have any energy at all is because I was eager to see you. I’ll be sure to add more hearts to my messages the next time I want to see you.”

“Please don’t. I might mistake your texts for Asmo’s,” you joked. “I’ll just try not to assume your mood based on one text next time. Anyway, why did you call me over if you’re so exhausted?”

Diavolo motioned towards the box on the table, “For this.”

“Hm?” You looked between him and the box. “The box you were trying to burn holes into with your eyes when I walked in? What? Is someone trying to court you again?”

“Goodness no. I’ve been pleasantly lacking in suitors recently. There is this one suitor, though – nearly as powerful as they are cute.”

“Solomon’s trying to seduce you now? I know he wants a pact with you but to resort to going about it by getting you in bed – how devious.” You couldn’t hide your smile as you feigned disappointment.

“Not the teacher,” Diavolo chuckled. He grabbed the box and presented it to you. “I’m talking about his favorite ‘adorable apprentice.’ I’ve gotten a present for them.”

You wanted to continue your game, feigning surprise, but your heart had melted far too much for you to keep up the act. With heart-wrenching sincerity, you responded, “thank you. Can I?”

“Of course. Please, go ahead.” Diavolo watched on as you lifted the box lid to reveal a lovely silk tie with one of your favorite flowers printed on it. Even the tie color and the print color were ones you preferred. Mephisto would have nothing on your tie game now – not that he ever did. “I missed you while I was away. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time. When we had the opportunity to tour the city, I took that time searching for a token of my affection.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Diavolo. I feel like you’re going to spoil me.”

“Nonsense! A treasure like you cannot be spoiled.” Diavolo pulled you in close, leaned in until his breath was tickling your ear, and whispered, “You know, you don’t simply have to wear this tie. Perhaps we can come up with a more creative use for it?”

Diavolo kissed your cheek, lingering just long enough to savor the warmth of your skin.

Barbatos

You had been so exhausted as of late, and the combination of late nights and the day-to-day stress that the brothers et al. caused you had taken its toll. All you wanted was a few moments of peace and quiet for yourself. So, you snuck off to school early and hid out in the RAD council room. It was far too early for anyone to be in there. In fact, the only people you saw on campus were Serun, and a few studious demons on their way to the library – one of which was definitely from one of your classes – perhaps Seductive Speechcraft – because they offered you a familiar wave as you passed in the hall. In the comfortable silence, you picked a seat and tucked yourself into a dim-lit corner.

With one of your textbooks laid out in front of you, you had fully intended to spend the next hour or so reading and studying without any interruption. However, your sleep deprivation and the heaviness of your eyelids had their own demands.

By the time Barbatos wandered into the student council, you had been asleep for well over a half an hour. He was pleased that you weren’t awake to see him jump slightly at the discovery of your body, slumped over the table. No one was supposed to be in there – and certainly not that early. All the lights weren’t even on yet.

Barbatos quickly recognized that you had fallen asleep – in Belphegor’s chair, no less. Although it was a suitable place for you to nap, Barbatos felt a tinge of jealousy, almost wishing he spent less time standing at Diavolo’s side and had his own designated seat that you could have fallen asleep in. He approached you cautiously, hoping to delay waking you up. No one – save for Barbatos himself and your unreliable narrator – would know whether he was able to snap a picture of your sleeping face before the affection swelling in his chest overcame him. Barbatos leaned down to kiss your cheek: the one that wasn’t adorably squished against your arm.

Your brows furrowed as the sensation pulled you out of sleep’s grasp. You groaned before opening your eyes. Barbatos had placed a homemade pastry in a bag, tied up with some spare mint-colored ribbon, in front of you before kissing you. So, as your eyes adjusted, the pastry was the first thing you saw, but a soft chuckle was the first thing you heard.

“Good morning, MC.”

“Barbatos? Did you just kiss me or was that a dream?” Your words were breathy as you tried to wake yourself up from an accidental nap. You straightened your spine and rolled your shoulders back.

“Shall I kiss you now, and you can judge for yourself?”

You scoffed. “You definitely kissed me, and now you’re trying to get a second one, aren’t you?”

“Perceptive as ever,” Barbatos mused. However, your tired face was harder to read than usual, and Barbatos became cautiously somber. “My apologies. In truth, you looked so cute that I found myself unable to resist, so I kissed your cheek to wake you up. Was I too presumptuous?”

If it had been some random demon you didn’t adore, perhaps it would have been an issue, but you figured this didn’t particularly bother you. You had done far worse – or, in this case, better – with Barbatos. Still, you didn’t get the opportunity to catch Barbatos in the wrong, and you wanted to mess with him. With feigned hurt, you replied, “You really are a demon – kissing someone in their sleep like that.”

“I’m terribly sorry.” The words fell out of his mouth quickly, and he searched for an appropriate response to remedy his offense. “I truly believed it would be okay, but I was mistaken. Please, pardon me for taking advantage. It won’t happen again.”

“Hm, well, it was a bit creepy,” you smirked, “but I suppose I could forgive you if you’ll let me have this pastry.”

Barbatos slapped his hand to his face and let out an exasperated sigh. “Were you teasing me just now?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you managed between a stifled laugh; the sleep had been completely shaken from you as you smiled and added, “You just seemed so flustered. I like that side of you.”

“I have half a mind to lock you up where those brothers can no longer be a negative influence on you,” he mumbled.

“Unfortunately, I arrived in the Devildom like this,” you corrected him.

“Then perhaps I should lock you up simply because I want to keep you for myself,” Barbatos admitted, absentmindedly – still recovering from your antics. He sighed and quickly redirected the conversation. “Anyway, the pastry is yours.”

“Oh, I was joking. You don’t really have to give me your food.”

“I brought it for you.” Barbatos pet your head before slipping his cool, gloved hand down your cheek and under your chin. “I intended to make you smile by bringing you a treat. I didn’t realize it would be as easy as allowing you to tease me.”

“Aww,” your grin widened. “That’s actually really sweet. Thank you!”

“As long as you’re happy.” Barbatos smiled and slowly pulled his hand away. “Now, I have some paperwork to attend to on behalf of the Young Master. You’re welcome to stick around until your first class begins. You can even go back to sleep, and I’ll wake you up if you’d like.”

“I’m alert now, thanks to you. But could you do something else for me?”

“Name it.”

“Could you kiss me again?”

Barbatos chuckled and bent down until he was close enough for his breath to graze your lips. He held your gaze seductively, but instead of kissing your lips as you had hoped, he moved to the side and kissed the cheek that he had been unable to kiss before. His lips lingered.

“Better?” he whispered in your ear. “You really should ensure that you’re sleeping properly. How else can I keep you up all night without worrying about you?”

Simeon

If it had been anyone other than an angel (or, former angel) – well, maybe not even Raphael and Michael – that had asked you to meet them at the edge of a forest, you would – and should ��� have assumed that you were going to be murdered and promptly disposed of. However, since it was Simeon who asked, you trusted him to not kill you. (Besides, Simeon could certainly think of somewhere more creative and romantic than a forest, right?)

Still, you might as well check. When you arrived and saw Simeon waiting for you, carrying a crossbody bag, you asked, “You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“Heavens no,” Simeon laughed, offering you his arm. “Have you started watching those true crime shows like Solomon and Raphael?”

You took Simeon’s arm and followed him into the forest. “Those two started watching true crime? Together?”

“Yes. I can’t say I don’t understand the grisly appeal, and I’m happy that they’re able to bond over something that doesn’t involve food, but it’s a bit much sometimes.”

“To be fair, Solomon’s cooking and true crime are equally gruesome. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s committed accidental murders with his food.”

“I would laugh if I didn’t agree with you,” Simeon admitted.

“Oh, geez, I’m so sorry.” You brought your free hand up to your forehead with a thunk. “This was supposed to be a date, and we started it by talking about the potential of Solomon committing manslaughter. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Simeon chuckled and put his hand over your arm. He squeezed you gently, reassuringly. “We are on a date in the Devildom. It’s almost suitable, don’t you think?”

“I guess so, but you never told me why you wanted to meet out here. Did you just want a change of scenery?”

“Sort of. There’s a field of flowers nearby. According to a book I borrowed from Barbatos, these particular flowers are at their peak around this time of year, but most people don’t attempt to find the field because the path is apparently cursed.” You looked at Simeon, incredulous and uncertain about whether you wanted an explanation or not. Simeon laughed sweetly in the face of your concern, which eased some of that worry. “A legend claims that the field of flowers was planted by a demon as an act of love for someone they held very dear. Unfortunately, their loved one brought a lover there – only for that lover to dump them the following day. The former lover returned to the field with a new partner soon after.”

“That’s cruel,” you interjected.

“I know. To make it worse, the loved one who had been dumped was so heartbroken that they fell ill and died. The demon who planted the field was enraged by the betrayal of their loved one and burned the field down. However, upon seeing the destroyed field, the demon regretted their actions. It was as if they had burned down the memory of their deceased loved one. They had destroyed something beautiful. The deceased one was buried in the field. For years, the demon tended to the scorched earth until it was healthy enough to replant. They returned to care for the plants daily until they sprouted. To commemorate their loved one and honor the beauty of the field, the demon put a curse on the land so that only those with true love in their hearts could find it. If your love is true, the path will trace the same steps that the demon took each day to tend to the field. If not, the path will bend and twist, and you may never find your way out of the forest.”

“That’s kind of scary,” you admitted. You weren’t particularly worried, but the legend – if true – put you on edge.

“Precisely. After a few people went missing, many demons stopped coming altogether. The rumors changed over time until they overwrote the narrative of the original story. Most demons believe that the forest itself is haunted. They doubted their love.” Simeon looked at you with a soft smile. “I have no such doubts. See?”

Simeon pointed ahead on the path, and you turned to see patches of a flower field begin to sprout up through gaps between the trees. It wasn’t long before a clearing came into view. The moonlight made the blossoms appear to glow. Small white flowers shimmered like stars while blue and purple ones reflected the night sky’s subtle light. It was beautiful.

Just off the path, there was a blanket and a picnic basket set up. You glanced back at Simeon. “Did you –?”

“I had no doubts that I loved you, so I came here and set this up ahead of time.” His arm slipped from yours so he could caress your face. “I just wanted to see you smile.”

“Thank you so, so much. I’m happy you wanted me to see this. I won’t come here with anyone but you.” You gave Simeon the soft smile he had been craving.

Knowing you were all alone, Simeon took the chance to kiss your cheek. Then, he kissed the other side, lingering longer than the first time. Then, he brought his lips to your forehead, keeping them pressed there as if he was afraid to let you go.

“Uhm, Simeon?” you interrupted his kiss.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got carried away! And I forgot –” Simeon pulled away, flustered, and rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a box containing a pair of ceramic teacups with the same flowers in the field painted around the edges of the cup and saucer. “I got you a present too! I got them custom made for us. I thought it would be nice that even when the field goes dormant, you’ll still have a reminder.”

Your heart melted and all you could do was carefully wrap your arms around Simeon and bury your smile against his skin. If the legend was indeed true, Simeon understood what it felt like to create something so beautiful and lovely that only a select few deserved to see it.

(kiss version - Mammon, Satan, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Solomon)

(gift version - Beelzebub, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)

A/N: I cannot explain what happened for these to turn out like this, but yeah. I hope you enjoy. Also, I still have so many requests from Halloween left and I feel like I should stop apologizing for taking months to get to them at this point. Dear lord. So sorry I forgot to add a read more tag the first time I posted this. I am out of it.

[marisatomay]

I don’t know how to say this in a way that doesn’t come across as incredibly out of touch and privileged but I don’t think the human brain was meant to receive so much bad news. The spread of news has always been limited by what can reach you and for thousands of years that usually meant the happenings in your village and maybe the surrounding villages. A few times a year you might receive word about the goings on in cities, maybe even distant lands. Occasionally war would break out which would increase bad news but, even then, unless the fighting was in your area, the news about the war would be a trickle—still devastating, but not as aggressive a bombardment. Now, with the invention of newspapers, wire communication, radio, television, internet, social media, click bait, traffic-driven ad revenue you receive every bit of bad news, from everywhere, all the time. We no longer live in a world where our bad news is local, mostly manageable, and only occasionally intensified. There is only bad news. I don’t think we were built for it.

[2000sbigbr0]

[quick-catton]

heyyy besties so i watched mota ep2 and it was very fruity. what was that. i know it's supposed to be about serious war. but [minor spoilers] the phone scene where curt calls buck and egan (am i supposed to first name basis them? gale and john?? idk bro) gave me Thoughts, alright.

hear me out. tall stern serious keeps-his-boys-in-check bf (gale) x tall loud rowdy riles-up-his-boys bf (john) x short affectionate golden retriever looks-at-his-boys-like-they-are-the-sun bf (curt).

thoughts.

[aquickstart]

ok sure i'll talk about farleigh start. i'll talk about his tragedy of never being enough as it were and then having to deal with fucking oliver. sure. disclaimer: it's about class (and race) and the horrible reality of the rich. the horrible reality of living as farleigh.

another disclaimer: i'm white! and poc definitely pick up on everything i'm talking about here as it is, and better. i was and am specifically interested in farleigh vs. oliver but it's impossible to examine without considering race. definitely let me know if anything abt this sucks!

farleigh and oliver are similar. it's annoying because every intruder that is not himself is annoying, partly because felix's attention swaying from farleigh is dangerous; there is always a threat of being discarded, even if no precedent existed. the potential is terrifying.

but you'd think he's seen this before, every summer (if venetia is telling the truth) or at least often enough to learn to recognize it fast, so he should know this will pass. part of it is i think still the deep anxiety, and i think he hated every boy that was there before, and it is sort of routine.

but definitely a huge factor in farleigh's annoyance is the fact that he's a biracial (black for cattons, that's all they see) man in a white rich household. he's alert and exhausted all the time. of course he's angry at oliver, regardless of whether he's the first to crash at saltburn for the summer or the fifty-first.

but the important thing is this.

farleigh is very jealous of and angry and pissed at oliver because farleigh sees all the similarities between them. outsider, in financial trouble, whatever it is, in need of cattons; and yet oliver is preferred. and farleigh seems to be the only one to really consider it. felix does not pick up on the hint when farleigh brings up the birthday party vs. his mother. felix's clumsy "different or... anything like that" is as much about race as it is about class, of course. the "we've done all that we can" bit is felix absolving himself of guilt because surely they had, surely the mysterious collective cattons that he's not really part of had tried all they could do. to him, farleigh is different from oliver, because farleigh has been helped. felix is rich and white and twofold uncomfortable with farleigh, even if he's nice about it, even if he genuinely enjoys his company; he doesn't look too close at farleigh because he feels too guilty to come too close. and farleigh can't do anything about it. he can't nice himself into it. the fucking tragedy of him is that he's never enough in the world of the ultra-rich white, even if (especially because!) he's born into it.

farleigh is very pissed at oliver because farleigh also sees all the differences between them. you know who can be nice poor white enough to fit in? fucking oliver. felix says "just be yourself, they'll love you" when oliver first moves in. farleigh was also probably told the same thing, and felix also probably believed that farleigh could just be himself, but even if the cattons were magically not racist at all (impossible), it wouldn't make a difference to farleigh. he would still self-censor, keep in check, be in dangerous waters (because racism is not just about the individual, but about the system). we see that he'd won himself leeway by years of trial and error by the way he speaks to the family, but it's still within the boundaries of acceptable, built by the cattons. he's part of them because they allow it, and farleigh is very, very aware.

the annoying thing is oliver can be himself. like, truly, genuinely, he can just be. and farleigh can't help but envy that.

as a side note, oliver is obviously jealous of farleigh in the beginning as well, because regardless of the reality of farleigh's situation, he was born into it, and hence, at least in oliver's mind, has his position solidified. oliver's whole thing is unquenchable thirst and hunger for whatever and everything the cattons have (including themselves!). he wishes to have been a catton from birth. to oliver, at first, there's nothing farleigh can really do to lose it. and until he figures out the cattons completely, he can't help but envy that.

but i think farleigh senses something different about oliver early on. at least on the level of the text, we have "you're almost passing [for] a real, human boy", which is so important because farleigh is the first to point out oliver's weirdness. the next to do so is venetia in the bath scene calling him a freak, but it's too late. farleigh is too early.

and i like to think he clocks oliver too early because he sees the jagged edges that he recognizes in himself. i think that one other thing that farleigh envies is oliver's freedom to let go. freedom to let go is very similar to freedom to be, but not quite the same.

to be is about perception: farleigh knows he cannot fall out of line, but would like to, and oliver does not have to worry about it at all (i mean, he does, because oliver also performs for felix, but farleigh doesn't know that).

to let go is about the self: farleigh is too scared to even want what oliver eventually does, to even consider the possibility. oliver can let himself want. oliver can let himself act. oliver just can do things and want things. i'm not sure farleigh can.

and so in this scene, when oliver's wants and actions have landed him nowhere with farleigh, felix, venetia, the cattons, of course farleigh gloats. he can let himself do that, because if the cattons are slowly discarding him, farleigh can allow himself this one small victory. he's relieved because despite the dangerous similarities, oliver is, thankfully, not really the same as farleigh, right?

but like. this movie is a love letter to all things gothic. oliver is a white man. he prevails. the brief performance that oliver put on did eventually end up more effective than farleigh's lifetime of constraint. my heart fucking breaks for him to be honest.

the issue that remains is the fact of farleigh's survival. i like to think that oliver came to respect him. oliver is smart, but farleigh is clever. he picks up on everything oliver does (to refer back to the karaoke scene, farleigh immediately retaliates in the cleverest way, in the moment), and he's the only one to do so consistently (venetia, again, for example, comes close, but too late; oliver doesn't like that, there's nothing to work with). hence, stay with me for a little longer, the paradox: farleigh survives because he was never enough for the cattons, but he is very worthy of oliver's attention. in his own freaky way, oliver wants him. look at that.

so. farleigh. farleigh might come back. he always comes back. and i think oliver wants to try harder next time.

[the-patrex]

I have seen a LOT of discourse about the finale so here is my final opinion on it: I Liked it I thought it was Very Bad

[schmweed]

[deoidesign]

something that makes me sad is when people tell me the healthy communication in my writing is "unrealistic."

like guys this is how me and my partner talk with eachother... I'm writing from personal experience...

[ilostyou]

let me make something very clear: it’s weird and strange and invasive to speculate about anyone’s sexuality unless it’s your own. hope this helps

[lovesickeros]

lord its so dark in here the sahara desert of tsaritsa content you are like a shining oasis. your characterisation of her compels me & mihoyo would be hard pressed to top it imo.!! caaaaan i humbly request yr thoughts on her first meeting w a reader of any kind, or maybe even multiple kinds (sagau, sagau god au, isekai, etc) if you so desire...

it really is like a desert here. being the fan of a character we aren't getting until the last damn nation is driving me up a wall but i will persevere bc if nothing else i support morally bankrupt women in media. we r in a severe drought over here but i do my best. unfortunately nothing i say is ever coherent so pull out your translation notes its abt 2 be messy

also this got out of hand but thats bc first meetings w the tsaritsa are tricky to write + a LOT of her characterization lies in deeper exploration then just surface level yknow...NOT A DIG AT YOU this is just my excuse for rambling. gently pats the tsaritsa she can hold so much complexity i do not have the word count to delve into it completely :]

gonna talk cult au for a bit here though because that's 99% of my content. and honestly? she thrives in sub au's of the cult au like villain au + imposter au. it's basically made for her. i mean, early days, the imposter au had been going around for a little while but one of the first few ideas was the Fatui taking reader in so like. it kinda technically actually was. pretty sure cult au Tsaritsa popped up because of the imposter au. a lot of it's writers kinda left though which. man am i getting old or.

anyway.

there isn't much of a chance her first impression is all that positive. at best it's usually neutral, imo, but rarely if ever positive. specifically because i view the Tsaritsa as someone who isn't as fanatical as most of the acolytes typically are towards the creator. she's not exactly going to worship the ground you walk on unlike a certain geo lizard. which is partially why i think she thrives in the sub au's i mentioned.

imposter au, for example. she meets you at your lowest. there's no gaudy extravagance or pampering from the acolytes waiting for you because your own acolytes have turned on you. for all intents and purposes you aren't a "god" at all. which is why i don't think she meshes well with normal cult au reader. the Fatui are made up of outcasts, basically, and imposter au slots right in just perfectly. you're weak, at your lowest, when you meet the Fatui in the imposter au. and the Fatui can help you, too.

a mutual exchange, really. the Tsaritsa sees a tool she can use to one up the rest of the nations and especially Archons, and she has no qualms about you using her and the Fatui in turn. you both want something out of it, after all. whether you just want to be safe from the rest of the acolytes, or you want revenge, or whatever else..she'll give you the power to fulfill it, and she gains the strongest piece on the chessboard when all is said and done.

the best way i can describe the first meeting is "practical", i suppose. she sees an opportunity in you. the ultimate gamble. because if she "saves" you, and you dont trust anyone else because they tried to kill you, well..she holds all the cards, doesn't she?

but the Tsaritsa, imo, is just as capable of being just as fanatical towards you as anyone else. she just won't worship you as the creator. but as yourself? clawing your way back to your divine power and taking back what belongs to you? the Tsaritsa is, to me, a character who's character flourishes in long-term fics more because she changes a LOT between "just met reader" and after having been with reader for some time. she's practically apathetic at the beginning but a lot of her character, in my characterization, shines through LONG after the first meeting.

[willowser]

okay last thing and i know this is easier said than done and i think it's less of final end point and more of a continuous journey but once you let go of your shame and embarrassment over the things that make you happy, you'll have a lot more fun

[sandwichhour]

Wah-Rosalina (wosalina?)

she's from the sea but she keeps trying to convince people she's from space bc she thinks its cooler (she's not very convincing)

[snowangeldotmp3]

might be an unpopular opinion but i didn’t hate the agatha finale….sorry….

[shima-draws]

Grips my shirt and tears it apart so that all the buttons go flying and SCREAMS I love Law and Cora so much what the FUCK!!!!

[saintmalosunsets]

BAND OF BROTHERS | EP. 6 + 9 + 10

Doc Roe in the background of scenes (bonus gifs)