#sorry i don’t have a great answer for the empathy question but

[reidrum]

castling | s.r.

A/N: another deeply self indulgent hurt comfort angst who’s surprised…i wrote this kinda fast so if it’s messy and cheesy sorry :/

cw: gn!reader (pls lmk if i missed something that doesn’t make it gn), hurt comfort, mentions of depression, ambiguous sadness, trivialization of chess, inaccurate chess jargon?, spencer is a darling

summary: in which reader finds it hard to open up and communicate their feelings with spencer, so he comes up with an idea to help

wc: 1.4k

not proofread sry

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

_______________________________________________

It started during a game of chess, when Spencer was showing you different special moves.

“It’s called castling, the idea is that you move the king two spaces towards the rook and then switch their places to allow more protection for your king than if it was in the center.”

“Why would you want to move the king towards the outside, that seems counterintuitive.”

“Smart girl, that’s a good question,” he says fondly, “It’s kind of a last ditch effort in a sense, the rook is essentially expendable but the castling moves the king out of the line from key pieces like the other king and queen.”

“So, it’s like a rescue mission.”

He smiles, “Like a rescue mission.”

You smile back and continue with your next move. Spencer watches you in earnest as you deliberate the best plan of attack, even though he knows he’s gonna let you win by the end anyway.

“How was your day today?” He watches your demeanor change quickly, your shoulders sagging slightly and your eyebrows furrowing. He knew the answer, he’s a great observant and even more so when it comes to you.

“It was…fine.”

“Just fine?” he challenges, moving his bishop.

You nod and move your knight. You’re waiting for him to move his next piece when you realize he’s not looking at the board anymore.

Looking up you see hazel eyes staring right back at you, “Sweetheart,”

“Spencer, don’t.”

He sighs, “You know,” he moves his pawn, “this isn't the first time that you’ve had a hard time communicating with me how you feel.”

A deep sigh leaves you now, it had always been a struggle for you to show emotion so openly to those you love, mainly Spencer. You just didn’t want to worry him with the throes of your mind, and while Spencer appreciated the sentiment he reminded you repeatedly that he’s there for you through it all and just really wants you to take advantage of that.

“I just want to help you, angel.” he says softly, “I can’t do that if you don’t let me in. You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, just that something is wrong.”

Tears well up in your eyes, “I know Spence. I—It’s just, saying out loud that I’m—whatever—makes it real. A—And then you get so worried and I get more anxious—“

“Hey. It’s my job to worry about you. Because I love you,” he places his hands on yours, “But, I was thinking what if we had a code word or something, just a single word, and you can say it or text me or anything and I’ll know that you’re not feeling well.”

Your face softens at his proposal. The irony you face is that your brain has convinced you healing can be done alone, that if you’re the one who fucked up the road you should be the one to repair it. While you know logically healing is more effective when you have support, it doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept the help you need, that Spencer feels you deserve.

“I think…that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” he replies, “Do you want to pick the word?”

You think about it for a few minutes. You don’t want to do a silly word like banana or chicken, you want something that maybe doesn’t sound serious but would still convey the intent of the code word.

“Does castling work?” you offer softly.

Spencer’s face morphs into something you can’t quite decipher, but to him it’s a mix of adoration, love, and pure empathy for you. He’s just so touched by the fact you want to use that word, after just discussing the significance of that move. It’s an honor that you trust him enough to be your protecting rook.

“Yeah, that’s perfect angel.”

You give a small nod, “Check.”

___

You knew he wouldn’t judge you, that’s the whole reason you came up with this system. It felt like an emergency contact, which it was, but in a “How bad is too bad before I call?” type of way.

Laid down in your bed, you stared at the glow of your phone with your messages with Spencer open. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, daring you to make a move.

Nothing even really happened today, it was just one of those periods where you were in a funk. The voices that lingered in your brain fed you disguised truths and cynicism, and it was hard to feel afloat with support when you couldn’t even tell what was pulling you down.

It didn’t matter though, your tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes amongst the disarray of your room which satirically matched the chaos in your mind were proof enough that maybe, you weren’t okay.

In this moment it would be stupidly easy to ignore it all and wallow in your own sorrow—Spencer was away on a case and you didn’t know when he was coming back.

So in a leap of faith, or perhaps a lapse in judgment, your thumbs twiddle a message out and press send.

castling

You toss your phone aside and try to avoid thinking about it. He’s probably busy, they’re on a case so he’s probably drawing out the geographical maps or maybe he’s on a raid or maybe he’s—DING.

Cautiously grabbing your phone, you slide the notification.

I’m on the plane, going to land in about an hour or so. I need to make one stop and then I’ll come straight to you, okay?

You stare through the blurriness of your eyes caused by your tears, the words blending together. Before the guilt of texting him and making him aware of your depressed state sinks in, another text comes through.

I love you. See you soon, angel.

Another choked sob releases from your throat, and you put the phone down before any more emotions try to infiltrate you. At some point you end up falling asleep on the bed, your body curled in on itself from the lack of warmth a nice blanket or Spencer could’ve provided.

You’re only stirred awake when you feel a soothing sensation on your head, long nimble yet intentional fingers sifting through your hair. You attempt to open your eyes through the thin crust it’s formed from crying so much, and you’re squinting for the first few moments of vision before registering the human in front of you.

“Hi honey.” Spencer whispers softly as you come to.

“Spence…when did you…”

“Just a couple minutes ago,” the hand in your hair comes to rest on your jaw, “How are you feeling?”

Tired eyes finally meet his brown ones and find nothing but reassurance and concern.

Oh. You’ve worried him now.

The last string of resolve snaps as your face crumbles in and you mutter out apologies mixed in with sniffles and sobs. Spencer moves from his knelt position in front of you to slide in next to you on the bed. He gingerly gathers you in his arms and tucks you into his side whispering it’s okay and you’re safe and i’m here.

After a few long minutes your breathing evens out. “You came.” you sniffled.

He pulls back to look at you with watered eyes, “You called. I’m so proud of you.”

You mumble under your breath, “I didn’t even do anything.”

Spencer shakes his head and tucks you right back in place, feeling the floppy fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, “I know a version of you that would’ve held it all in by yourself. Thank you for letting me be here for you.”

You turn your head into his chest further, letting the hot tears and snot stain his nice button up. His hands rub trails up and down your back, his head bent down to your ear whispering sweet nothings to you. With Spencer delicately taking your defenses down maybe you can finally admit to yourself that you were just too soft for all of it.

“Where did you have to stop by?” you wonder.

He smiles and readjusts you against his body, “I picked up Thai food,” “And some candy, sour of course. And there may be a Snoopy stuffie as well because it reminded me of you.”

You feel a different weight on your heart, not one that’s constricting but one that’s embracing, comforting. In a life where you’ve rarely felt taken care of, or even being worthy of that care, you know with certainty that Spencer would never let you go a day without knowing how much love and care you deserve.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Fallen || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!devil!reader Summary: When a young driver wants to make a deal with the devil to get his greatest desire you find yourself forgetting what side of Heaven and Hell you are on. Warnings: supernatural themes, mention of deaths (Jules, Hervé & Hubert), angst, fluff WC: 5k

F1 Masterlist || Bonus Scene

16th October 2013 The kid had no business standing at the crossroads. What could a boy need so desperately that he was willing to part with his soul for it? But it wasn’t your place to question, merely to answer. 

The boy murmured to himself as he knelt on the gravel and started to dig with a pink trowel he had borrowed from his mothers gardening tools. The quiet mutterings brought you amusement as you thought of the surprise he would get when his doubt was proven wrong and you appeared.

He carefully followed the instructions inked on the page that had been torn from a very old book. He reached up to his dark hair with a small pocket knife and cut away a small patch before laying it in the hole he had made. Turning the knife on himself, he whined as he pricked the tip of his finger and squeezed it until three thick blood drops fell onto the strands of his hair.

You would usually laugh at the poor attempt of the incantation to call upon you but instead you sighed as you grew tired of the theatrics. 

“What do you want, kid?”

A small shriek filled the night as he fell back on his ass. “But…but…you…but…”

“Shit, you’re not even old enough to talk properly,” you said as you knelt down to his height. “Go home.”

His mouth snapped closed before scrambling to his feet and wiping the dust that covered his jeans. “Sorry, you gave me a fright. I was expecting…” he looked around and frowned, “never mind. Do you need help?”

“No, do you?” 

He looked genuinely concerned as he searched the dark road and you tipped your head to the side before you remembered that to a human you looked like a 21 year old. It didn’t matter that you had roamed the world for a thousand years, your physical form remained the same.

“I guess not,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped and he kicked his vans at the loose stones as he whispered, “it didn’t work anyway.”

“It was your pronunciation, Latin is a tough language. I’ll let you in on a secret, you can say the incantation in any language and it will work.” You leaned in closer and chuckled darkly. “The devil just enjoys torturing people.” 

“But…but…”

“Great, we’re back to that, are we?” You rolled your eyes and opened your palm, a ball of fire erupting into the night and the scent of sulphur lingering after the flame burned out. “What did you expect when you called me?”

“You…you’re the…dev…”

“Devil,” you offered as his face paled and he stumbled backwards. “Say it with me. De-vil.”

“You’re the devil? But you look like an angel.”

“More or less, there’s actually a lot of us.” You clapped him on the back and grinned when he jumped. “So what can I do for you, kid?”

“I heard you could grant wishes.”

“I’m not a genie, I’m a dealer,” you said with a shake of your head. “You tell me your dream and I make it happen, for a price.”

He chewed on his lip, his conscience trying to warn him it was a bad idea. “What price?”

You flicked your hand out and the piece of paper on the ground flew into your fingers. “You know the price. How old are you anyway, kid?”

“I’m sixteen, today actually.” 

“Congratulations!” You frowned as it didn’t sound quite right and he did the same. “Wait, it’s happy birthday, isn’t it? We don’t exactly have them since we are fallen, not born.”

“That's really sad.”

“Hell help me, you are an emotional one.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt the waves of empathy rolling off the teenager. “Listen, I’m all up for taking souls, it’s my job and I’m pretty good at it, but you seem like a nice guy so I’ll help you out pro bono as long as you don’t cry.”

“Really?” His excitement was almost as infectious as his smile as he grinned at your offer and you could tell that with a few more years of growth and maturity he would be as handsome as those goody-good angels.

“Really. So what’s your dream? And don’t go all ‘Disneyland’ and that shit, make it big.”

“I want to be a Formula One World Champion.”

“Fuck, okay, I said big not gigantic,” you said as you cracked your neck and then your knuckles before rolling your shoulders. “That will take some time to pull off, but we got this, kid.”

“Charles, my name is Charles Leclerc,” he said as he held his hand out. “Do devils have names?”

“Of course we have names, but names have power and I don’t know you well enough to share mine with you.” You shook his hand and he jumped a little at the heat difference since the hellfire made you run hotter than humans. That same heat flickered up your spine as you felt another calling at a crossroad half a world away and so you stepped away. “I’ll check in once a year to see your progress.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

You laughed darkly as thick smoke began to gather at your feet where the earth was opening to your home realm. The teen yelped as a lick of flame encircled his wrist but the scar that appeared just as quickly healed so no one would know he had been marked by the devil.  “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2014 “I wasn’t sure you would actually come, I thought you were a figment of my imagination.”

You stepped out of the shadows and looked around the modest home that should have been full of his friends celebrating his 17th birthday. The air was thick with grief and it made your back ache from the weight of it bearing down on you as you watched the teenager stand with his back to you at a bookcase.

“Maybe I am,” you murmured as you walked over to him and saw his eyes fixated on a photo. 

Placing the photo back carefully on the shelf he turned and you saw the difference a year had made. “I want to make a deal. My soul, take it.”

“Woah, slow down, Birthday Boy, you don’t know what you are offering.”

“I don’t care, I just need him to be alright.” Tears were swimming in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and squeezed tightly. “Fix Jules, please.”

Unable to resist, you reached out and touched the tear that ran down his cheek. Pain obliterated your chest, crushing your insides as waves of memories flooded your senses until you knew Jules just as well as he did.

For the first time since your fall a thousand years ago, you were envious of the angel you had been. You wanted to be the cause of his hope, but that wasn’t something you could give and you tugged your hand from his hold before they could blister his skin. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Bullshit! You are a dealer, you said so yourself.”

“That’s not how it works, Charles, I’m a devil. Don’t you see? The deals I make are selfish, the things people want for themselves. You want a miracle,” you sighed and felt the familiar ache where your wings once were, “I can’t do those anymore.”

“You got me into Formula Renault.”

“You got yourself there, kid,” you said as you stepped away. “I just whispered a few suggestions to people I knew would listen.”

It was a little more threatening involved but you weren’t going to let him know that. You hadn’t needed to do anything other than get someone to give him a chance since he had the talent to win all on his own.

“There has to be something you can do,” he pleaded, his green eyes swimming with tears.

You sighed as you stepped away, rubbing your temple as if you could actually get a migraine like a human could. “I can’t make any promises, but…let me see what I can do.”

You faded from the room before you could see the hope that filled his face and followed the memory of his visit to Jules, finding yourself in the shadows of a hospital room. The room was empty except for the young man laying on the bed, wires and tubes keeping his breathing steady. You were struck by the pain you felt and knew it wasn’t real but the lingering effects of sharing Charles’ memory of him, but that knowledge still didn’t ease the ache.

“Azrael, come down here.”

It only took a second for the angel to appear and she didn’t look pleased at being called away from her duties.

“You’re not an archangel anymore, you can’t just snap your fingers at me.”

“Obviously I can since you showed,” you pointed out. “I need a favour.”

“You don’t do favours,” she said as she narrowed her eyes.

“I do now. I need you to leave him alone.”

Azrael looked at the comatose man before reaching forward and touching his forehead and shaking her head. “He’s one of ours, he has to come with me soon.”

“You have no sense of time, whatsoever. Soon could be 50 years from now.” You crossed your arms and stared the death angel down. “I’ll deny three souls in exchange for his life.”

“You’d turn down three deals for Jules? Who is he to you?”

“No one, but he means everything to someone else. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal, he has until I next come back down, no more.”

You nodded in agreement hoping her sporadic trips to earth erred on a lengthier time away this round. Unfurling her wings, you felt a pang of jealousy arise as you watched her fade away only to hear the strong beats of her wings carry her higher.

You aparated back to Charles and found him slumped in a leather reading chair, an album of photos open on his lap. Droplets splattered on plastic sleeves, only to smear into streaks as he wiped them away at your arrival.

“I bought him some time,” you said softly as you fell into the seat opposite him. “I can’t say how long because I don’t know but for now he will live.”

Charles dropped the book as he fell to his knees and clutched your hand tightly, the gesture making you uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he choked as his tears hit your knee through the rip in your skinny jeans and turned to steam. He didn’t seem to be affected by the heat radiating off you, he didn’t seem to feel it at all as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your joined hands. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid,” you said ruefully, pulling your hand back from the touch. “Healing was never my gift. He will have to do that on his own.”

“He will, I know he will,” Charles said with certainty as he rose to his feet. “He’s the strongest man that I know.”

You stood up with a nod and realised this year he was the same height as you, seeing eye to eye after his latest growth spurt.

“I hope you are right,” you said, feeling the floor start to give way beneath you as you willed yourself home. “Until next year, Birthday Boy.”

Charles’ nose wrinkled at the smell of sulphur filling the room and he stepped back at the sight of the black plume swirling around your boots. “You don’t have to wait a year, you can visit anytime.”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” you laughed as the smoke climbed higher.

“Just because you’re the devil, it doesn’t make you bad,” he said with a shy shrug. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

He was right in the fact you had been kind, something no one else would say about you. You couldn’t explain why you were different with him, why you couldn’t treat him like any other advantageous young man wanting to get ahead. There would surely be hell to pay if word ever got out about it.

The smoke reached your throat and pulled you down. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

16th October 2015 Charles would never know it but you had visited him throughout the year. You had kept to the shadows, watching from afar as he graduated to Formula 3 and came one step closer to reaching his dream. You were there by his side when he received the phone call that had devastated him, you had felt Azrael’s presence on the mortal plane and immediately went to him. You didn’t reveal yourself, not when the gut wrenching sound he made had you hate having fallen. You could offer him nothing so you remained hidden, torturing yourself with the knowledge of what could have been.

It was a little before midnight when you arrived at the busy nightclub. You should have just apparated into a bathroom stall but instead you had to produce a fake ID so the bouncer would let you in.

“Guess I can’t call you kid anymore,” you said as you found Charles in the VIP area and took a seat beside him. “Happy Birthday.”

“Who’s this angel, Charles?” his friend asked with a confident grin.

You tipped your head back with a laugh before you recovered enough to say, “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, but you call me D.”

Charles nearly choked on his drink at the snort he gave. “What are you doing here, D? I don’t remember inviting you.”

You leaned closer to see his cheeks flushed pink with the alcohol he was now legally allowed to imbibe in and whispered, “There’s only one place I need an invitation, and despite the name on the door outside - this isn’t Heaven.”

With a huff of annoyance he stood up and made his way out of the VIP area to the packed dance floor. Knowing everyone was completely inebriated you didn’t bother to follow him, instead you suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Leave me alone,” Charles growled as he turned his back, but everywhere he went you were in front of him.

Finally he gave up escaping and you shoved a hand on your hip as you asked, “What’s your problem?” 

“My problem? You lied to me, that’s what!” The drink in his hand spilled over the rim of the glass with the angry shaking overtaking his body. “Jules died…and you weren’t even there. You never visited me and…I needed you. I needed to know why!”

You took the glass from him and tipped the liquid back, relishing the burn of the alcohol down your throat as he stared daggers at you. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, mortal.”

“Well, we never made a deal, so there’s no need for you to be here, devil.”

The words hurt more than you cared to admit and the glass shattered in your hand, ichor flowing from the wounds before they could heal as quickly as they came. Charles' eyes widened at the dark liquid coating your palm and he almost looked worried for you but you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes were fixed on your heels, the shoes uncomfortable compared to the boots you normally wore but you had wanted to fit in. For him.

“You’re right,” you muttered as you freed your hair from the constricting hair tie and kicked the shoes off. There was nothing to be done about the tight red dress until you were home, but you would be there soon enough. “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2016 Try as you might, you couldn’t stay away. Unbeknownst to Charles, you regularly checked in to see what his latest accomplishments were. As it was, he was leading the Formula 3 Championship and was a sure graduate to Formula 2. He raced like he had the devil breathing down his neck, pushing the boundaries to the brink of disaster.

Maybe he knew you hadn’t abandoned him, or maybe he just didn’t care. You knew you definitely shouldn’t have cared but still you watched him grow into a man and mature as his career evolved.

16th October 2017 You had nearly started another war the day Azrael came for Charles’ father. For three days you stood ready to fight the angel of death for Charles’ biggest supporter while he visited the hospital to say his goodbyes. He had lied to his father, telling Hervé that he had signed to a Formula 1 team for the next year and you promised to make it happen - with or without a soul to bargain.

It wasn’t a difficult task to achieve, a small incident with Pascal Wehrlein making a seat available in Sauber. All Charles had to do was keep his head in the game and go fast like he always did.

When you watched him celebrate his birthday his eyes had glanced around the room and you wondered if it was you he was looking for. It was only when those green eyes landed on a family photo you pushed the silly thought away, he was just missing his father.

16th October 2018 “How long have you been there?” Charles asked the empty room.

How he sensed your presence, you didn’t know, but since you no longer needed to hide it you let the shadows fall away. Turning away from where he had been styling his hair in the mirror, he leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

His room hadn’t changed all that much, Ferrari posters still covered the majority of the walls but they were also joined by some models posing on hoods of cars. The twin bed had been upgraded to a double and was covered in a red and yellow bedspread that clashed with your trademark black outfit as you lay across it.

“How often do you do that?”

“Do what?” you asked innocently as you stared at his ceiling and not his narrowed eyes.

He waved a hand over your leisurely state. “This.”

You got off the bed and stalked across the room to the Formula 1 racer and found you had to look up at him even with the heels on your boots. “Don’t mortals leave home by now? I thought the 21st birthday was some big right of passage.”

You reached for the tub of hair product and sniffed at the vanilla scent before it was swiped from your hand. It smelled edible and there was another scent that was just as good but you weren’t sure what it was or where it was coming from until you leaned closer to him and inhaled.

“I just bought an apartment but it’s not ready for me to move into for a few more weeks. Will you stop that?”

“What is that smell?” Your head was swimming as if you were high but that wasn’t possible. “My head…”

You could barely stand upright as you felt drunk all of a sudden and Charles caught you as you stumbled back. “Sit down,” he said softly as he guided you to the edge of his bed. “Why did you come back?”

Your head lolled onto his shoulder and the room spun as the truth tumbled from your lips. “I never left you,” you admitted, your words slurring as the intoxicating smell left you dazed. “Not when Jules died…or your father, never…”

Charles frowned as your eyes closed and you fell back on his bed. He had spent so long blaming you, being angry at you, believing you had abandoned him when he needed you most but as you murmured in your strange state he realised he had it all wrong. 

“D?” he called out as he shook your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy and you curled into a ball as your stomach churned. “Because I shouldn’t care. You’re just a human.”

“But you do care,” he surmised as he grabbed the blanket and draped it over your shivering body. 

“Devils don’t care.” You could hardly talk through your chattering teeth, the blanket doing nothing to warm the ice that had seeped into your being.

Charles curled himself up against your back and tightened his arms around the blanket as he tried to warm you. Nothing seemed to work until his voice spoke softly in your ear, “Then maybe you’re not like the others.” 

The silence grew and he thought you had passed out when you muttered, “I had nowhere else to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a war…couldn’t choose a side…threw me out.” A yawn silenced your words and you snuggled into his arms, your nose finding that delicious scent strongest on his neck where you nuzzled deeper.

“My cologne,” Charles whispered and you realised you had asked aloud what it was. “You’re like a cat high on catnip.”

“Haven’t been high since I had wings.” You giggled, a sound so unlike you, but it turned to a sad sigh. “I miss my wings.”

Charles brushed your hair back from your face but you didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. “What colour were they?”

“There isn’t a colour to describe them. But you can see it at dawn…look to the east…the last star in the morning sky.”

“The Morningstar?” Charles looked down to see your lips parted with a soft snore and reached into his pocket for his phone. There was no way he was going to leave you in the state you were in, not even for his own birthday party.

16th October 2019 You had thought Azrael had forgotten the deal you made but she made sure to remind you of it when she crossed paths with you at the Belgium GP. Charles’ head had snapped your way the moment he heard the crash and you shook your head sadly. The only reassurance you could give him was that the young driver’s soul was at peace. 

Before leaving with her precious cargo, Azrael had given you two months to keep your end of the bargain and you didn’t want to test her patience. The crossroads had been quiet and it took nearly the whole time to find three souls worthy of denying a deal, most people who offered their souls for their greatest desires deserved the eternal damnation in return.

As soon as your task was fulfilled you returned to Charles, to the only place you felt at home. After waking in his arms a year ago you had struggled with the duties expected of you, finding more and more excuses for the downturn in deals. After waking in his arms, you wanted to be more than what you were. You wanted to believe you could be more, like he believed in you. 

“D,” Pierre greeted as he joined you at the bar. “Still looking as lovely as ever.”

“Still the charmer.” 

His attempt to shift closer to your side was blocked by the heat radiating from you and he pulled back with a frown, brushing the oddity off in his tipsy state. “Where have you been?”

“Here, there, everywhere,” you answered absentmindedly as you felt Charles’ presence before you spotted him. “I travel for work.”

“Let me guess - modelling?”

“Dealing.”

“No way!” His eyebrow shot up and he leaned in to whisper, “Drugs?”

“Not quite,” you said with a laugh. “Something far more lucrative.”

Charles’ hand came to rest on the small of your back and his lips brushed your cheek. “Sorry I’m late, ma diablesse. What are you drinking?”

“I could do with a-” your voice trailed off as a fissure ran through the air and you turned to see what had just walked in the door. “Hold that thought.”

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked but you were already weaving your way through the crowd. 

Waves of power rolled off the beast but no one would see the tusks spearing out of its face or the black soulless eyes, they would merely see a mountain of a man and a vibe that warned them to move aside. 

“This is a bit out of your territory, Fowler. What are you doing topside?”

The demon looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Heard some interesting rumours.”

“And what rumours were those?”

“That some darling angel was caught up with a mortal, helping out for free. You know the rules. No soul, no deal.” Fowler’s hand snapped out and caught your throat, his claws threatening to tear it out. “Don’t forget who took you in when your family threw you out.”

“Fuck you, I’ve more than paid my debt,” you spat as you grabbed his wrist and seared his skin with the lick of your flames. “Don’t come and threaten me.”

“I don’t have to threaten you,” he chuckled as he cradled his hand to his chest and looked past you to where Charles was pushing his way to your side. “Mortals are so weak, a little accident is all it takes.”

There was no way you could let Fowler return to Hell with the information he had, your weakness, so you did the only thing you could to protect Charles. You rushed the demon as the ground opened, disappearing into the pit with him before Charles could follow. You called all of your power and funnelled it into your fire, pouring it down the demon's throat until he was smothered by the flames and a smoking husk that turned to ash as you crashed to the ground. 

“Morningstar, what is the meaning of this?” 

You bowed to Beelzebub before kicking away the ash that had settled on your boot and painted a dark smile onto your face. “He interrupted a deal, I couldn’t let that grievance go unpunished. Or did you want me to forgive him?” You challenged him with an arch of your brow until he huffed a sigh and waved the question away with the whip of his tail. 

“So where is the contract for the soul?”

“Did you miss the part where I said he interrupted the deal?”

“I’m not sure if I liked you less as an angel or not,” he uttered from his throne of skulls. 

“I have that effect.” You started to leave the way you came but a chain snared around your ankle and locked into place before you could escape. 

“Not so fast.” You were thrown onto your ass as he yanked the chain and dragged you to the foot of his throne. “I find myself short of an enforcer,” he said as he looked pointedly at the pile of ash you had created.

“So find another,” you growled as you tried to melt the chain but it merely absorbed the heat you poured onto it, “there’s no shortage of brainless fools ready to serve you.”

“But look how that ended,” he laughed. “How about a deal? Ten years as my enforcer for your freedom.”

Freedom. Ten years was nothing, just a blip to an immortal, but you weren’t thinking of yourself. You were thinking what ten years would be for Charles. Would he have a wife and kids? Would he have won his world championship? Would he remember you?

“Two,” you countered.

“Five.”

“Deal, but on one condition.” You stopped fighting the chain and rose to your knees. “I want a soul.”

16th October 2024 You were beyond exhausted when you stumbled into the bedroom, using the last of your strength to find your way back to him. The last five years had been brutal and it was a miracle that you had survived to complete your end of the deal, much to Beelzebub’s chagrin. The bastard had thrown every impossible task your way but you had something he could never understand, hope. And it kept you fighting to the bitter end. 

You crashed onto the bed as your legs gave out and he leapt up at the intrusion, the bedside lamp lighting up and illuminating his silhouette as he stared at you wide eyed. “Ma diablesse? You came back…”

“Always, Birthday Boy.” You reached for him, needing to feel him with your own two hands after missing him for five years. It was his face that had kept you alive and you cupped his jaw to pull him closer only to freeze at what you felt. “Charles?”

“What? What is it?” he asked with panic as he placed his hands over yours, holding them tight to his cheeks.

“You have a beard,” you whispered, turning his face to the side to see the styled hair on his jaw. “When did that happen?”

Charles laughed and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as he crushed you against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“I would have been back sooner but I made a deal with the devil.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out an unassuming medallion. “A soul, my soul.”

Charles frowned in confusion as he trailed a finger over the symbols of an ancient language long forgotten. “What do you mean?”

“No more devil deals, if you’ll have me, I would be human.”

Shock rippled through his features. “You would give up immortality for me?”

“Hell is an eternity without you,” you said before you pressed your forehead to his, sharing his breath of life. “And if I never make it back to Heaven at least I will have had a moment of it here with you.”

Bonus scene here.

[theunfriendlyghost]

HQ Characters Most Likely to Date a Mortician

(Coming from a mortician)

A/N I know this is so niche and specific and nobody cares but I need this for my own mental health 😭😭also will probably do a pt. 2 because there’s a couple other characters I want to do

Sugawara Koushi

✨I don’t know why but he just seems like the type of person to have a funky taste in people (in a good way.

✨I think he would specifically date people he found to be exciting and interesting and when he found out about your job, he thought it was fascinating.

✨Sugawara also cares heavily about people as a whole. He’s a teacher, so obviously he has a lot of empathy. I think he appreciates the fact that your job requires a lot of empathy and care

✨initially, he probably thought it was a cool and creepy job but as he got to know you, he realized that the job takes a lot more skill than he initially thought. He appreciates the artistry that comes with it as well as the charisma required to do a good job.

✨This man literally tells EVERYONE about your job. He doesn’t care that people think it’s weird. He literally thinks it’s the coolest thing in the world.

Kageyama Tobio

✨This one actually took quite a bit of thinking for me but I think that after his grandpa died, he had a lot of respect for people in the funeral industry.

✨As someone who also went to funerals of family members growing up, it makes you a lot more open to the idea of death. I think he probably has a lot of questions but he’s willing to listen to the answers.

✨Probably felt weird about it at first? Possibly wasn’t as open with his friends about your job until later on when he understood it a bit more.

✨Probably also has virtually 0 idea of what you actually do at work. He appreciates it and knows it’s an important job but most likely doesn’t want too many details (which is fair and normal)

Kozume Kenma

✨This one might literally just be me holding on hope but I feel like he’d be fine with it?

✨Like to him, it’s literally just a job. When you told him, he probably just kind of said “okay?” And moved on. Wasn’t a big deal and he was confused as to why you thought he would be weird about it

✨Definitely wants to stream mortuary assistant with you so you can judge how accurate the game is to the actual job. Values your input quite a bit.

✨when he sees videos on TikTok about morticians, he always sends them to you even if you have no idea why he sent them. He just thinks you’ll like them even if he doesn’t understand 😭

Suna Rintarou

✨he gives me the vibe of someone who initially just liked your job for shock factor and then gradually realized there was a lot more to it than just that.

✨He finds it extremely interesting and asks questions often.

✨He reminds me of the type of person that used to spend his time smoking at cemeteries to be edgy and you had to tell him it was disrespectful 😭😭he thought you were overreacting at first but realized the reasoning behind it

✨I don’t pin him as the most empathetic person in the world? He appreciates your empathy for people but to him, it’s just a job.

✨Probably not great at comforting you after tough days (SORRY 🫨🫨). Probably just encourages you not to think about it too hard which sometimes does do the trick.

✨Although he’s fine with your job and thinks it’s really cool, I get the vibe that he would not step FOOT in your place of work. For some reason he’s superstitious about it? When he drops you off for work, he drops you off at the corner and drives away as fast as humanly possible but will literally never admit it.

[ai-the-broccoli]

Dorian and Seeking Reassurance

so I was going to include this in the reblog to the post by @applestorms, but it got too long so I'm making a separate post about this.

While Dorian mainly hides the proof of his "sins" away from the world, he actually does ask for reassurance for them too! To an extent.

Specifically, at at least two points in the novel, he does try to seek reassurance from Lord Henry about the things he's feeling guilt about.

[longish TPoDG analysis on Dorian & OCD w/ comparison to Death Note below the cut. please watch out for major spoilers for the book]

In the first case:

“Harry,” cried Dorian Gray, coming over and sitting down beside him, “why is it that I cannot feel this tragedy as much as I want to? I don’t think I am heartless. Do you?” “You have done too many foolish things during the last fortnight to be entitled to give yourself that name, Dorian,” answered Lord Henry with his sweet melancholy smile. The lad frowned. “I don’t like that explanation, Harry,” he rejoined, “but I am glad you don’t think I am heartless. I am nothing of the kind. I know I am not. And yet I must admit that this thing that has happened does not affect me as it should. It seems to me to be simply like a wonderful ending to a wonderful play. It has all the terrible beauty of a Greek tragedy, a tragedy in which I took a great part, but by which I have not been wounded.” “It is an interesting question,” said Lord Henry, who found an exquisite pleasure in playing on the lad’s unconscious egotism, “an extremely interesting question. I fancy that the true explanation is this: It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style. [...] Sometimes, however, a tragedy that possesses artistic elements of beauty crosses our lives. If these elements of beauty are real, the whole thing simply appeals to our sense of dramatic effect. Suddenly we find that we are no longer the actors, but the spectators of the play. Or rather we are both. We watch ourselves, and the mere wonder of the spectacle enthralls us. In the present case, what is it that has really happened? Some one has killed herself for love of you. I wish that I had ever had such an experience. It would have made me in love with love for the rest of my life. [...]”

Okay I'm not going to post all of the next few paragraphs (since that's too much text) but basically:

At first Dorian still feels guilty and so Henry continues to try to comfort him in his own way... a questionable way at that, specifically by expanding on the "explanation" he raises (as you can see above), according to which the reason why Dorian is incapable of feeling more strongly and more sorry about Sybil's death is that this is but a beautiful artistic tragedy -- that Sybil Vane was hardly really that real in the first place -- that women appreciate cruelty and dominance -- and that her death makes her whole existence beautiful as the final act of her play.

And then... Alright, let's look at how Dorian "comes to terms" with his inability to feel more grief or empathy for her (he can feel GENERAL guilt/shame and he feels it very strongly, but like... he can't really feel emotional empathy for Sybil if that makes sense, and it's bothering him until it's not [1]) at last.

“You said to me that Sibyl Vane represented to you all the heroines of romance—that she was Desdemona one night, and Ophelia the other; that if she died as Juliet, she came to life as Imogen.” “She will never come to life again now,” muttered the lad, burying his face in his hands. “No, she will never come to life. She has played her last part. But you must think of that lonely death in the tawdry dressing-room simply as a strange lurid fragment from some Jacobean tragedy, as a wonderful scene from Webster, or Ford, or Cyril Tourneur. The girl never really lived, and so she has never really died. To you at least she was always a dream, a phantom that flitted through Shakespeare’s plays and left them lovelier for its presence, a reed through which Shakespeare’s music sounded richer and more full of joy. The moment she touched actual life, she marred it, and it marred her, and so she passed away. Mourn for Ophelia, if you like. Put ashes on your head because Cordelia was strangled. Cry out against Heaven because the daughter of Brabantio died. But don’t waste your tears over Sibyl Vane. She was less real than they are.” There was a silence. The evening darkened in the room. Noiselessly, and with silver feet, the shadows crept in from the garden. The colours faded wearily out of things. After some time Dorian Gray looked up. “You have explained me to myself, Harry,” he murmured with something of a sigh of relief. “I felt all that you have said, but somehow I was afraid of it, and I could not express it to myself. How well you know me! But we will not talk again of what has happened. It has been a marvellous experience. That is all. I wonder if life has still in store for me anything as marvellous.” “Life has everything in store for you, Dorian. There is nothing that you, with your extraordinary good looks, will not be able to do.”

........so does this excerpt remind you of anything? Because it does remind me.

....yep.

This was what I meant by this (specifically the "OCD guilt can't catch me if my ego is big enough" part) lol:

"oh fuck. what the fuck. fuck I did that" -> "I feel awful. I did a horribly wrong thing" -> "..." -> "no, urgh, wait" -> "actually, that was... definitely a good thing!" -> "yeah. them dying was fine because they should've been killed and/or they're not real" (it's dehumanization either way) -> "that's right! I did a good thing. a very good thing. that was what I wanted all along. it was incredible, actually! it was a rare and unusually good event"

also interesting to note in this case is that, Dorian's rationalization process is aided by Henry, while Light did the whole thing on his own.

[1] On that note, Dorian's not being able to feel as much emotional empathy as he wants may be a result of NPD or something similar. And the thing is, not being able to feel affective/emotional empathy is not a choice, and it isn't in itself anything that inherently makes him bad. However, ironically, Henry's way of helping him out of his guilt over his inability to feel it for Sybil DOES lead Dorian to adopt a messed up way to view things. Like... the "right"(?) lesson here would be "it's okay that you don't emotionally feel grief and empathy over this, it doesn't inherently make you a bad person", but instead, Dorian learns "it's not just 'okay' to feel no grief and empathy over this, it's that that's literally THE right way of reacting to this tragedy! Because Sybil literally wasn't even real in the first place, her death is such beautiful theatre. There was literally nothing for ANYONE to feel grief or empathy over, and it was great how much you made her suffer."

In the second case:

“What would you say, Harry, if I told you that I had murdered Basil?” said the younger man. He watched him intently after he had spoken. “I would say, my dear fellow, that you were posing for a character that doesn’t suit you. All crime is vulgar, just as all vulgarity is crime. It is not in you, Dorian, to commit a murder. I am sorry if I hurt your vanity by saying so, but I assure you it is true. Crime belongs exclusively to the lower orders. I don’t blame them in the smallest degree. I should fancy that crime was to them what art is to us, simply a method of procuring extraordinary sensations.” “A method of procuring sensations? Do you think, then, that a man who has once committed a murder could possibly do the same crime again? Don’t tell me that.” “Oh! anything becomes a pleasure if one does it too often,” cried Lord Henry, laughing. “That is one of the most important secrets of life. I should fancy, however, that murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner. But let us pass from poor Basil. [...]” Dorian heaved a sigh, and Lord Henry strolled across the room and began to stroke the head of a curious Java parrot, a large, grey-plumaged bird with pink crest and tail, that was balancing itself upon a bamboo perch. [...]

This is less obvious of a case, but here Dorian does suggest to Henry the possibility that he might've murdered Basil to see how he would react.

Dorian is disappointed after Henry is like "You? No way, duh", which suggests that he actually wished Henry would seriously consider the possibility so that Dorian can either like feel a bit better from confessing his own crime to a party that is not judgmental, or be reassured by him that it's okay too; or both (see: Henry previously was... VERY accepting of Dorian being a major part of the cause for Sybil's death).

His attempt at seeking reassurance fails completely, however, just like Light's attempt for Soichiro and others to accept Kira and everything, because Henry does not believe Dorian to be a person capable of murder and refused to believe that Basil could've been murdered in the first place.

but yeah tl;dr: Dorian Gray sure is an accidental OCD allegory like Light Yagami. very intriguing

[successfullyadhd]

My son is ADHD and suffers very badly from second hand embarrassment. He can not even watch a tv show or movie with a character that does something embarrassing. I think it is the reason he is scared to try new things in fear of not being good at it and getting Embarrassed.

Do you have any suggestions for me to help him overcome this?

I’m so sorry that it’s 2024 and I somehow just saw this question from 2021. Whew. Awkward.

Anyway, I’m going to answer as if it’s still helpful because it might be! And if not to you, then maybe another person.

Two parts -

1) second hand embarrassment. I get this ALL the time and cannot watch certain shows because of it. The Office is a great example, where the humor is based on other people not understanding typical social cues. I cannot be in the room while someone is watching The Office. Or pretty much anything with Will Ferrell.

People with ADHD have incredible empathy, to the point where they deeply feel emotions of other people around them. Part of it is a defense mechanism - we get so many more negative reactions from our peers and adults at a young age than is typical that you start intensely studying non-verbal cues to recognize when something is about to go wrong. Watching this play out, even in a non-threatening situation like through a TV show, sparks up our fight-or-flight. The social cues are telling us to run even though it isn’t happening to us. The other reason is that our brains are wired to feel our own emotions more intensely than the average person. When we see other people going through a situation we find relatable or have experienced before (skirt tucked into your undies in public) the emotions we would be feeling in the same situation get brought up, even though it isn’t happening to us. Our brain and nervous system is recognizing a pattern and telling us what it *would* feel like if it were us, which then makes us understand how that person is most likely feeling.

And for this, I have no suggestions 🙃 if I knew how to stop second hand embarrassment, I would share. But I would say it could be a strength, because empathy and shared human experiences help you be a better person, and make lasting friendships. (As long as those friends don’t watch The Office. Or Parks and Rec.)

2) not trying new things - this one is also common among the ADHD crowd. ADHD people have a tendency to be perfectionists - we can see exactly how something should go and as soon as we have an idea, our brain has already sprinted ahead to the finish line and made a diagram of the exact way to get there. But there is a disconnect between our ideas - often ambitious, lofty and enthusiastic - and the experience needed to make it happen. For example, I love embroidery. I daydream about the incredible designs I would love to make - but when I try to do it, I don’t have the skill needed to make it come to life. If I kept at it, tried and practiced and messed it up and tried it again, I would have already been the best embroidery artist the world has seen. But the experience of the perfect imagine in my brain not being translated into what my skill is capable of doing is frustrating, and I quickly become uninterested.

It can be intimidating to try new things and feeling like unless you have innate talent, you aren’t going to be successful and you will look dumb. (And even people with innate talent need practice to hone their skills.)

To encourage trying new things, I would suggest starting small in a space where he is free to fail repeatedly over and over again. When I go to a yoga class and the teacher introduces some complicated move that my body isn’t ready for, I’ll sometimes take a water break or pause in the previous movement and look around with envy at all the other people successfully doing it. I wait it out and then go on with the movements when I’m back in comfortable territory. But when I get home, I’ll practice the move by myself over and over again until I’m ready to do it in front of other people without the humiliation of struggling in front of my peers.

The other thing that helps is low pressure and low stakes situations. I am not athletic by any stretch of the imagination and I can remember so many situations in grade school (or middle school!) gym class where we would need to do some athletic feat in front of 30 other kids. I would try to get out of it and the teacher would pressure me, and the other kids would say “it’s not that hard, just do it.” And I would feel so embarrassed and flustered by the attention I would make an attempt (and utterly fail) to hit the ball and then run to the back of the line as other kids laughed. And you can bet I never, ever tried to do any of those things again because even revisiting the memory of the first attempt made me feel nauseous. But looking back, if I could have had a one-on-one situation where someone patient and kind worked with me, I would have tried so many more things. Pressure would make me double down on refusing, quiet offering would make me feel safe enough to try it.

Also, another idea would be to give him options of things he can try on his own with minimal teaching/interference. Like if someone had introduced cross country skiing, or rock climbing, or some other sport where there wasn’t a whole team relying on me, and I could practice independently to get better, I might have found an athletic side after all. Other things in the category would be: hands on crafts - leather working, bead making, drawing, etc. computer programming/video game building. Writing. Cooking. Growing a plant or a garden. Things that you can fail at over and over without it being a public display. (Whether the scrutiny is real or imagined, it will dampen the mood) And if he wants to throw away his art work without showing you, or won’t let you see his first clay sculpture or whatever - let him. Let him keep it to himself until he’s ready. I remember adults - teachers, coaches, whoever - asking to see my -insert whatever here- and me being embarrassed because I knew it wasn’t good. And then them complimenting me and encouraging me, and me being more embarrassed because I knew that objectively the thing wasn’t good and they were being kind. They were doing all the right things but I just wanted to keep it to myself until I felt confident enough to share my progress.

I hope this helps! Good luck! It’s been three years since you submitted this so I’m sure life looks different for your family today but maybe this is something that still comes up.

[winderlylandchime]

Hi! I'm curious about your opinion on the likelihood of a QAF reunion after 25 years, particularly considering Gale and Randy. Gale was absent from the 2022 virtual reunion. Do we know the reason behind that? And Randy stepping away from acting to become a therapist makes it even less likely imo. But I want to know what you think?

Also I've noticed the show being mentioned in discussions about queer TV/history. While some suggest it's been somewhat forgotten, I'm not entirely convinced. The reboot, reunions, and ongoing interest in a show of its age seem to indicate otherwise, imo. But I can't really tell because I'm involved in the fandom. What's your take on this?

Hello dear sweet anon!

I’ll be honest, I don’t hold out much hope for a 25th reunion. At least not one involving Gale or Randy. We know Randy is trying to disappear from public eye in order to become a therapist (as a therapist myself, I have nothing but empathy. I can’t imagine doing my job and wondering if my client has seen my bare butt on tv). And Gale has mostly disappeared from public life, preferring to work behind the scenes now. I think the QAF fandom was very hard on him (and Randy) with their invasive questions and he’s a very private person.

I think the 20th reunion “worked” thanks to Scott and also the fact that we were all in some form of lockdown at the time. With the world opened up again, it would be a lot harder to organize. And with the two leads unable to participate… I don’t see it happening.

That doesn’t mean the fandom couldn’t organize something! But an official reunion I don’t think is realistic to hope for.

ETA: I forgot to answer the second part of your ask! Sorry. I think with it streaming on showtime (even with the terrible soundtrack) there is some renewed interest. I, like you, don’t have a great idea of how important it feels to queer people who study queer media because I’m so steeped in fandom.

[trippinsorrows]

10 things Roman is pissing me off real bad sister 😭😭😭

Rj was disrespectful but in my opinion he is only acting out because he feels as if his dad hasn’t really been there for him. Also rj mentioning the fact that his dad cheated on his mum shows that he has resentment towards him for more than one thing. Roman needs to stop being so hard headed and try to understand where his son is coming from.

I don’t agree that Nova tries to be Rj’s friend, it is just that she is more understanding of his feelings, being receptive doesn’t mean she is avoiding conflict, someone needs to be that way because Roman isn’t! I do hope Roman can develop a better relationship with Rj, I know he doesn’t want him to make mistakes but in order to learn sometimes, mistakes will have to happen. Rj having his dad’s support will give him even more encouragement to succeed and make it to the NFL.

Sorry for the long ass message I just really like this story😭

Also one question quickly, maybe I missed it (my apologies if I did) but when did Roman cheat on Nova? I’m guessing it was before Bella & Cami were born because they’re both under 5?

Once again thank you so much for sharing your gift with us all, you are an amazing writer!

chile, roman is pissing all of ya'll off out here. 😭😭😭😭

i agree with you. rj has a smart mouth and can not know when to stop. he, however, has a lot pent up emotions and unresolved feeling toward his dad for a lot of things. a lot of things he needs to release and stop holding in.

but as we can see, roman's ass is not the easiest person to talk to and deal with. he can in fact have narcissistic tendencies and can struggle with empathy. i do think he means well, and he obviously loves his family, loves rj, but his pride gets in the way. he has a lot ego and doesn't know how to set it to the side. he's struggled with that, to some extent, his whole life, really.

meanwhile nova just wants peace. she was raised by really laid back, loving, kinda hippy parents who had a great marriage and great dynamic with her. she just wants that for her kids, especially rj and his dad.

i think what also needs to be highlighted is that nova and roman were essentially kids themselves when they had rj. they were teen parents, so in a lot of ways, they all grew up together. a lot of learning and mistakes occurred along the way, as is the process.

so......ya'll should know by now that things are never straightforward in my stories, and this is no different. thus, i'm gonna hold off on answering your question regarding roman's infidelity, because there might be more there..... 😅😅😅

and never apologize, friend! it's fun talking to ya'll, especially since you're willing to put up with my weird ass 😭😭😭

thank you so much for such kind words 🥰🥰🥺❤️

[eye-of-yelough]

uhhh what would ur other ocs think of gort (me personally i love thinking about how he would break each one of my characters mentally & physically in a way specifically crafted entirely for them but that’s not an ask i should send i think)

so i thought the question was “how would gortash manipulate your ocs” and answered that question as well so. you’re getting the answer to both cos i don’t wanna delete. its kinda long so 👇

Leo Hawke, Dragon Age 2: kill kill kill bite devour mutilate. Gortash is everything he hates and everything she wants to be. cool, commanding, smart, feared, respected, loved, powerful. swag off the charts, i know he’d love the outfit.

How he’d manipulate him: easy. kill the only family he has left, Anders and Isabela, or keep them from her. actually yeah locking Anders up in solitary confinement, somewhere he spent an entire year before, that she regularly holds him about when he gets claustrophobic or has nightmares about. the thought of Anders in a small dark cell all alone with his thoughts would break him and he’d simply do Anything to ensure he’s not in there a moment longer than he has to be :/ that being said her first instinct would simply be to kill the man, and he’d definitely try, even if it’s a dumb idea. and honestly not to hype my own oc up too much but if anyone could, it’d be her. one woman (not really a woman) army of a reaver when a loved one is on the line. monster. could probably cleave his way through a dozen lackeys and at least 2 steel watchers solo before getting tired, and that’s only if they’re even in the way.

Slater Adaar, Dragon Age Inquisition: she’d be smart enough to know to be terrified of him. just be a useful tool while keeping as much distance as possible and keeping an eye out for the exits at all times. run at the first opportunity, no heroics.

How he’d manipulate her: i am realising i don’t actually know her all too well. autistic qunari sera romancing artificer pursedog butch lesbian who just wants a normal life away from politics and armies and magic and sainthood, damnit. that’s all i’ve really got on her. so, i guess using the promise of a normal life. tell ya what, she’d make a great deep cover secret agent. she is definitely an oc i could stand to make more interesting lmao

Vice, Skyrim: competition, quite simply. he has a thing about dragon imagery, right? subtler than the sun stuff, but it’s there? but is it about being a dragon himself, or subduing them. either way, they’d scoff at his posturing. underestimate him for sure, letting their ego and lack of respect for humans stop them from being smart. they have lawful evil no empathy aroace megalomaniac in common, so they’d definitely have an interesting time together :)

How he’d manipulate them: power. specifically the power to do their human experiments in peace. freedom from legal consequence, basically. it would be difficult to dominate or even get a good read on Vice and their desires tho, even for Gort. i mean. they don’t speak. and have pretty good control over their emotions. they’d be playing psychological 4D chess and it would be so entertaining. (remembers it doesn’t have to manipulation, it can be about breaking physically) OH YEAH. YEAH that’s the one. it would still be HARD to keep them down, draconic force of nature that they are, but i’m sure the gorster would be able to figure something out.

uhh . oh man is that all my ocs. i mean no, there’s my newish tav, “we have Romeo’s zeke at home” Ginger (half elf, same face shape, ranger, shart romancer??! i promise this is a coincidence idk how it happened) uhh i have a Khajit oc i’ve never talked about whose name is Ace and i have nothing else on him. OHHH GALE MY DRAGON AGE CIRCLE MAGE OC WHO DIDN’T WORK AS SURANA. uhh yeah he’d simply have no use for that old woman sorry. i need to change her name man can���t let her get confused with the bg3 wizard.

how could i forget Jack, Jack Valentine, my gta 5 guy i’ve had for like 3 years and also never once talked about despite loving him forever even if i’ve kinda forgotten him lately cos i haven’t played it in ages. kind of a self insert type, or at least the closest oc i do have to one, so. he’d make an alright lackey, i think. he’d probably hate the gort but ultimately fall for his shit after a while. like with gale he’d be very disposable.

man i need to think of better ocs these guys are boring

[veritasss5]

Heyya!!💗

My name is bhavya and i wanna get readings from you as they are loa based and also i get soo positive vibes from your blog. I would love to know

1. What are the msgs i need to hear about my void journey

2 had i impressed my subconscious enough to enter the void state before this week ends?

Thankk you in advance 💗

Hello!!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

1- “exercise empathy means not throwing your weight around”

Whatever you want to manifest in your void state, is great for you, at the same time it would be good if the manifestation that involves people has benefits as well. You have good benefits and so do other parties as well. Let’s take an example to explain clearly this message:

You want to remove a third party because you like an sp (specific person), do it gracefully. Instead of removing “forcefully” their existence, wish the third party to find another person that is way more suitable for them so they leave alone the sp that you have eyes on. It’s true that the situation may be frustrating and escalate jealousy, but keep cool and know that you as a god of your reality you can give a blessing to the third party as well as the blessing is giving you benefit as well. (Remember this is just an example to explain properly the meaning of this reading).

Don’t instantly manifest “negative” or things that don’t benefit the well being of other people, if not it is a necessary thing to do and you have no other choice. Choose always kindness, positivity and grace. Of course this is just a message that you can listen to or not, you are free to become which type of god you want to be.

If you are wondering if you will enter the void state, yeah you are soon to get there. If you are already familiar with it, use this powerful technique to manifest greater good for you and the people around you.

2- “receive as generously as you give”

Keep trying and exercise more, making it easier than you are thinking. Stop following rigorously step by step by other people. This method is very personal, how you get it in will be up to you. I think you are there but missing something. You will be successful in entering the void state one day or another, it is just a matter of time.

Sorry for the second question if it was too late from your submission. If you got in congratulations♥️✨

Also both answers have black pages, if that helps you to think as a sign that the void state soon will be achievable for you.

If you have any doubts because I explained not very well don’t hesitate to tell me🫶🏻

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Check the game if you are new and want to join the fun with me🫶🏻 everything is based on the law of assumption knowledge.

Reading #15

[thex01011000]

Dimitri’s Parents.

(tradução no final) I’ll probably draw them one day, as you all may know I’m not very good at posting drawings with frequence hahaha i’m sorry. Now even more, cuz I have some personal issues happening here. ANYWAYS, I was watching some tiktoks and ones mentioned Dimitri’s father and it was so cute I cried. SO, as I don’t update very much, I came with some... curiosities? Some things I think maybe you would like to know about his parents, I don’t know. If you have any question about them, I’ll gladly answer (with no drawing tho diushadiuahdiua SORRY T-T) Anyways, here we go. ----

- Dimitri's parents were very hardworking people. Dimitri's mother worked as a journalist and was also a volunteer to social causes in NGOs. When things started to go downhill, she started having some intrusive thoughts, such as thoughts about killing or hurting the children and animals she helped in those NGOs. Afraid of this, she ended up quitting her job, as well as never volunteering again.

- Nikolas was an extremely affectionate husband and father, he did everything for his family, he considered himself a feminist and a romantic. Dimitri admired him a lot, wanting to be just like him when he was little.

- Nikolas was a teacher, and Dimitri wanted to follow the same steps as him.

- Dimitri's parents met at a random flower park, while Davina (Dimi's mother) was walking her dog.

- Nikolas is russian and Davina is scottish. (In a random ask, I replied that Nikolas was scottish and Davina was russian, but I changed that because... yes. As you can see, in Dimitri's Origin story, his father's name was spelled "Nicholas", I changed it to Nikolas because of "Nikolai", which is a russian name.)

- When he met Davina, Nikolas was certain that the time he would spent with her would be the best years of his life, because with her, he didn't felt fear at all, he wasn't afraid of anything, all he felt was happiness and love. When she got pregnant, Slenderman came back to his life, but he didn't let that affect him, as having a family with Davina was literally the best thing in the world for him and nothing would ruin that. (In the end everything got ruined, but whatever.)

- Just one day after his wife's death, Nikolas immediately scheduled therapy for both Dimitri and himself, as he knew he wouldn't be able to live without Davina, but he still wanted to be the best father he could for Dimitri. He wanted to be able to take his son out of the "rock bottom", intead of being there with him.

- In fact, Davina didn't actually committed suicide, she tried to, countless times, but everytime she was too afraid, she didn't want to leave alone, but she also knew that she couldn't count on her husband or son to watch her dying. Until one day she was found by The Lonely Soul, who with great empathy and respect took the woman's life, relieving her pain and her soul.

- Nikolas found Davina dead in their room, she seemed at peace. Nikolas felt his whole world fall apart the instant he saw her. He also saw the slender creature in the corner of the bedroom, watching him cry over his wife's body.

- Davina was the one who taught baseball to Dimitri.

- Davina didn't like fights and trouble because she grew up with 3 brothers who bullied people at school and her at home, so she grew up learning how to fight and stand up for herself. She was a bully during her high school, until she learned that hurting people only made her sad at the end. So when she did found out that Dimitri was getting involved in several fights at school, she was the first to talk to him about that, expressing her disappointment over his actions. Dimitri didn't want to let his mother down, his parents were the people he loved most in the world, so he promised her that he would never get involved in fights again and that he would focus on his studies just like his mom wanted.

- Davina always told Dimitri many stories about her life in high school, and how the girls were cruel and  difficult to deal with at the school she studied. This resulted in young Dimitri thinking that all girls were like that, so he tried his best not to approach them, because if any of them picked a fight, besides not having permission to do that, he also couldn't hit a girl. (That's before being who he is today guys, so don't think he wouldn't hit or kill a girl hahaha)

- Nikola's parents were very harsh when he was younger, so he promised himself that he would be a great father when he have a child. When Dimitri came, he was sure that he would be nothing like his parents, because the love he felt the moment he saw that boy was so pure that he couldn't even imagine being able to being angry with him for real.

- Nikolas and Davina were both great singers, and they did a musical play E V E R Y Christmas, with well-crafted scenarios and good quality costumes. Every Christmas was a different play, there were never any repeats. Although now Dimitri knows that those times will never come back, he still has a special fondness for that time. That's manly why he loves Christmas.

-----------

Eu provavelmente vou desenhar eles um dia, como vcs podem perceber, eu não sou mto boa em manter frequência em desenhos kkkkk desculpa. Ainda mais agora, que to tendo uns problemas pessoais. ENFIM, eu tava assistindo uns vídeos no tiktok sobre o pai do Dimitri, e era tão bonitinho que eu chorei. ENTÃO, como eu não dou mtos updates, eu vim com algumas... curiosidades? Algumas coisas que eu achei que talvez vocês iriam gostar de saber sobre os pais dele, seila. Se vocês tiverem alguma pergunta sobre eles, ficarei feliz em responder. (porém sem desenhos iUHDUISAHSUDIA DESCULPA T-T) Enfim, vamo lá. --------

- Os pais de Dimitri eram pessoas muito trabalhadoras antes de tudo acontecer. A mãe de Dimitri trabalhava como jornalista e também era voluntária em causas sociais. Quando tudo começou a piorar, ela começou a ter pensamentos intrusivos sobre matar as crianças e animais que ela ajudava, com medo disso, ela acabou se demitindo e nunca mais se voluntariando.

- Nikolas era um pai e um marido extremamente carinhoso, fazia de tudo por sua família, se considerava um feminista e um romantico. Dimitri o admirava muito, e quando pequeno, queria ser igual a ele.

- Nikolas trabalhava como professor, e Dimitri queria seguir o mesmo ramo.

- Os pais de Dimitri se conheceram em um parque florido aleatório, enquanto Davina (mãe de Dimitri), levava seu cachorro para passear.

- Nikolas é russo e Davina é escocesa. (Em alguma ask, eu respondi que Nikolas era escocês e Davina era russa, mas eu troquei isso porque sim. Como podem notar, na história de Origem de Dimitri, o nome de seu pai era escrito "Nicholas", mudei isso para Nikolas por causa de Nikolai, que é um nome russo.)

- Quando conheceu Davina, Nikolas teve certeza que os anos que passaria com ela seriam os melhores anos de sua, pois com ela, ele não sentia medo de nada, tudo o que sentia era felicidade e amor. Quando ela engravidou de Dimitri, Slenderman voltou à sua vida, mas ainda assim ele não deixou que isso o afetasse, pois ter uma família com Davina era literalmente a melhor coisa do mundo para ele e nada estragaria isso. (No fim estragou né, mas enfim.)

- Um dia após a morte de sua esposa, Nikolas agendou um psicologo imediatamente, tanto para Dimitri quanto para si mesmo, pois sabia que não seria capaz de viver sem ela, mas ainda queria ser o melhor pai possível para Dimitri, então ele queria ser capaz de puxar seu filho para cima caso ele "caísse no fundo do poço", e não estar dentro desse poço junto dele.

- Na verdade, Davina não se suicidou, ela tentou inúmeras vezes, mas tinha medo, não queria partir sozinha, mas também sabia que não poderia contar com seu marido ou filho para assistir sua morte. Até que um dia ela foi encontrada por The Lonely Soul, que com muita empatia e respeito tirou a vida da mulher, aliviando sua dor e sua alma.

- Nikolas encontrou Davina morta no quarto deles, ela parecia em paz. Nikolas sentiu seu mundo cair no instante em que a viu. Ele também viu a criatura esguia no quanto do quarto, observando-o chorar sobre o corpo de sua esposa.

- Quem ensinou baseball para Dimitri foi Davina.

- Davina não gostava de encrencas pois ela cresceu com 3 irmãos que faziam bullying com as pessoas na escola e com ela em casa, então ela cresceu aprendendo a se defender e foi uma valentona durante seu ensino médio, até aprender que machucar as pessoas lhe deixava muito triste no fim. Então quando ela descobriu que Dimitri se envolvia em várias brigas na escola, ela foi a primeira a conversar com ele sobre isso, mostrando-se decepcionada com as ações dele. Dimitri não queria decepcionar sua mãe, seus pais eram as pessoas que ele mais amava no mundo, então ele prometeu que nunca mais iria se envolver em brigas e que iria se focar nos estudos assim como sua mãe queria.

- Davina contava a Dimitri muitas histórias sobre como foi sua vida no ensino médio, e como as garotas eram crueis e muito difícil de conversar na escola em que ela estudou. Isso resultou em Dimitri achando que todas as garotas eram assim, então ele tentava ao máximo não se aproximar delas, pois caso alguma delas quisesse briga, além de ele não poder brigar, não poderia bater em uma garota. (Isso antes de ser quem ele é hoje tá gente, antes que vocês achem que ele não bateria ou mataria uma garota kkkkk)

- Os pais de Nikolas eram muito rigorosos quando ele era mais novo, então ele prometeu a si mesmo que seria um ótimo pai, quando fosse um. Quando Dimitri veio, ele teve certeza de que não seria nada como seus pais, porque o amor que sentia por aquele garoto, era tão puro que não se imaginava ser capaz de sequer brigar de verdade com ele.

- Nikolas e Davina eram ótimos cantores, e faziam uma peça musical em todo Natal, com direito a cenários bem elaborados e figurinos. Cada Natal era um show diferente, nunca havia repetições. Embora Dimitri saiba que esses tempos nunca irão voltar, ele ainda tem um carinho especial por essa época. É o principal motivo de ele amar o natal.

[foreverinthepagesofhistoryy]

‘really want someone to ask me to compare OTMA to WOTC Characters bc I got my pick 🤩’

Actually am really interested in what your thoughts are on this? Also if you had to pick three favorite characters from WOTC, it can even be St. John 😂😂 though I doubt he would even be a candidate. If you had to pick three favorite characters and list them from favorite to likeable, who would it be and why?

❤️

OOOHH FINALLY!!! Let’s get into it!

Alix = Olga

Alix literally IS OLGA because they both have hot tempers and are also the sweetest people at the same time. They have a deep love for their family and will do anything to protect them. Also they both have great relationships with their fathers 🥹🫶🤍

2. Leonor = Maria

Leonor I would say is more like Maria because they both are SO SOFT AND CARING while also being mature and seriously funny. They have A LOT of empathy and will always make sure that everyone is okay. The cutest little bbys in the world 🙌❤️‍🩹

3. Sofia = Anastasia

Okay there is no question that Sofia isn’t Anastasia I mean come on! They both are little pranksters who light up the room with their quirkiness and silliness and are just absolute goofballs. They wouldn’t hesitate to play a joke on their siblings and would obviously be the life of the party! 🥂🤣

I can’t think of anyone that’s like Tatiana! She is like a combo of all of the girls + the responsibility and sense of duty and stuff, she’s a tad bit hard to read at times and I literally don’t understand how she is so perfect! 🥲🥲🥲

Also for too 3 WOTC characters it would be

Alix 2. Sofia + Leonor, 3. Either Felipe or St. John bc they are just funny queens lol 😂

Thank you for asking and sorry this took so long to answer! 💙

[saezurufeels]

When Yashiro asks himself ‘why not me? Why can’t it be me?’ while looking at Kuga, what exactly is he referring to? When I read it for the first time it seemed obvious (and maybe it is) that he was jealous of Kuga  - or maybe wishing he could be more like him, ‘a bright light’, as he says - so I never paid much attention to this.

But now I wonder why would Yashiro want Kage to fell for him? Wouldn’t it cause much more pain, since he knows he can’t be in a normal relationship? If that happened in high school I could imagine them being together, Yashiro was so lost and lonely, and maybe still hoped for redemption. Adult Yashiro never expected or even wanted this, yet he still wishes Kage’s love?

Also, what if Kage fell for him instead of Kuga, do you think he would at least try to change his lifestyle to be with him? Or would he push him away?

It’s probably a dumb question, but I would love to hear your thoughts on this.

Sorry for the late reply! And, no it’s not a dumb question, it’s a great question, and this contradiction is one reason Yashiro is such an interesting character.

How can someone who doesn’t want a normal relationship still be sad about not having a normal relationship? But the real question is, which of those came first? Was Yashiro born different (not wanting love and romance), or did something else happen along the way, which taught him not to rely on anyone, not to trust relationships, and not to expect good things to happen?

I think Yashiro musing, “why not me?” shows us that he wasn’t born wanting to be alone, he just grew up thinking he wasn’t good enough to be loved and protected. Occasionally his longing for normalcy and love shows itself, and he asks himself these 'why?' questions. He knows deep down this is not the life he wants, but his self-perception is already warped from years of abuse. Kagyeama may have been partially right about one thing: Yashiro doesn’t know himself well. Does he want love, or does he reject it? You could argue it’s both. If Yashiro fully believed he was worthy of love (his true longing), then the pain of being hurt and abused would be too much to handle. So, he developed coping mechanisms: a distaste for romantic relationships and the belief that he's a twisted person. Does that mean he rejects love completely? I don’t think so, but the contradiction is still a valid part of him as much as his intelligence and empathy. That’s why it’s so difficult for anyone to break through his walls, and even if Kageyama chose Yashiro instead of Kuga, I think Yashiro would have pushed him away.

I think as humans, we have a need to explain everything. There has to be a reason for everything. Same goes for Yashiro. If things are chaotic and happen without reason (such as abuse, rejection, etc.), then what’s stopping anyone from ending it right now? Whether you live or die, it’s all the same. But Yashiro keeps on going because he has a sense of hope. Despite everything, he continues to search for reasons; he continues to fight to live. Even when Yashiro asks Nanahara, “what makes someone fit to be a yakuza?” he’s trying to understand why he’s labelled as one. Yakuza are often seen as degenerates, people without options (no family), or people without righteousness. Yashiro doesn’t want to be a yakuza, but he wants to understand why it’s the only thing people ever ascribe him to. Is he truly twisted or is there a more, let’s say, tasteful reason he’s perceived as the perfect yakuza?

Remember when Kageyama told Yashiro he was pitiful because he was alone? Surely Kuga was also pitiful and alone when he met Kageyama. So, being indirectly rejected by Kageyama a second time must have opened old wounds and caused Yashiro some confusion. Does he have additional flaws he didn’t know about? Yashiro is always searching for answers to these questions. Nevertheless, that only demonstrates that there is some hope left in Yashiro. He knows he must have some redeeming qualities. If he were objectively bad, wouldn’t he know? Thanks for the interesting question!!

[tyranasauruslex]

Sorry in advance for the easy - I'm at the airport with nothing better to do than hyper fixate on baby Lukas and his trauma. This is just a brief, jumbled regurgitation of thoughts, speculation and emotional distant families.

I love your Lukas + Big family take and that he's the black sheep! Maybe they're all insanely clever scientist or something and they look down on him for being the "dumb one".

I 100% agree about the emotional neglect aspect though but it comes from his mum never dealing with or explaining properly what happened to his father. The suicide is obviously not a well known story - the siblings didn’t find out about and it was only through Lukas awkwardly bringing it up that we know about it. It just gives me the vibe that it’s something that’s been put in a box titled “Things We Never Speak About.”

It could have come completely out of the blue which would have undoubtably been incredibly shocking and increased the emotional disconnect that Lukas ends up feeling for both his parents. Or his dad could have been in and out of mental health facilities whilst Lukas was growing up which was never really explained to him either. The latter would mean that neither of his parents would have had time for Lukas and when they were all together, it would mean having to be “fine” so as not to stress his dad out.

“Your dads not well so make sure you behave today.”

Lukas gives off the air of someone who’s had to become self sufficient very quickly or not had anyone to rely on which is why he goes so hard in his work life. Suicide takes an enormous amount of empathy to understand but it would also have undoubtably left Lukas with a great sense of abandonment which is why he gets so possessive and clingy in his romantic relationships. 

Back to his mum. A death in the family can be brutal for those left behind but she’s got the added stigma of dealing with a spouse that took their own life and then that her child found the body.

There must be an awful amount of pain knowing that your child was the one to find the body and that you couldn’t spare them that trauma. If I’d not gone to work/the shops/gotten up earlier etc then it would have been me that found him and our child would not be burdened with that for the rest of their life. However, that pain can quickly turn to guilt and avoidance because what if Lukas does blame her? What if he thinks it’s her fault that his dad killed himself? It’s better to avoid asking and her worst fear coming true than it is to sit down with him and talk about what happened. He seems fine enough; he’s back to messing around on his computer at least. He’s not talking much but he never was a chatter box to begin with so he’s probably coping ok which leaves her time to deal with the funeral and flood of people coming to check on them. He’s better off upstairs by himself and out of the way from it all. 

Thinking that it would be a fresh start for both of them, she ends up selling the house and they move into an apartment in the city where nobody knows about the “incident” but the pictures of Lukas’s dad remain boxed up and never go back up on the wall. They’re down to one wage now so she has to go out to work more which is a good distraction and Lukas seems fine enough, although she’s reluctant to ask because he might have questions that she has no idea how to answer and it’s better if they don’t pick at that particular scab. In her mind it’s better to forget someone then feel the pain of their absence and the “Incident” evolves from “my husband killed himself and my son found his body” to “my husband died and my son found the body” to “my husband died” and eventually “I’m a widower.” 

It’s more difficult when Lukas gets older because it’s less easier to fob him off which is when they start arguing more and more and she can’t help herself by snapping at him whenever he tries to talk about his dad. The past is the past; it won’t do either of them any good dredging all that up again. 

Then one day Lukas tells her he’s moving out and it hits her that her gangly little boy has grown up and there’s no more need for worrying if he’s going bring up his dad again. Over the years they end up in a routine of sporadic phone calls and Christmas visits before Lukas is off again doing whatever it is he does. She'd like to ask him but she knows from experience that the more they talk, the more time there is for his dad to be brought up and it's better to keep that particular box shut.

The phone calls remain the same and she’ll wait for him to call rather than ring him because he always seems so busy. Hows work going? Have you been anywhere nice? Remember to call Uncle Valter… Then she doesn’t hear from him a while and it takes her some time before Oskar eventually calls her to explain that Lukas ended up in a psych ward for a bit but he’s home now so he must be fine… they can talk about it he brings it up, which he never does so she takes that as it was just a blip, probably stressed out from work. 

Then there’s all this talk about America and that the press might try and talk to her and it dawns on her that she wouldn’t have anything to say if they did. 

“Don’t mention your dad” she tells him before even asking what he’s doing or why he’s suddenly so interested in the strange American family she sees on the TV from time to time. 

And he doesn’t so they go back their sporadic phone calls and Christmas visits. 

[rriavian]

I was tagged in this ages and ages ago by @dream-of-the-bitchless and it's been waiting in my drafts from before I took a few weeks break away from tumblr (just checked and I was tagged in February!!). I don't always participate in tagging games, though I try to, but I'm so sorry for the late response!

My own get to know you game:

Who was your first fictional crush?:

I’m asexual, so I don’t really experience crushes? But I did watch The Mummy as a child and so had nearly the same experience as everyone else, except without the attraction part

What’s the first colour you think of when I tell you to think of a colour?:

Sunset orange :)

Which fanfiction emotionally scarred you and still makes you shudder to this day?:

Hmm, I am very good at noping out of a fic before then, because I’m not one for emotional scarring when I read unless it’s the sort I will think of fondly. But there is a Dragon Age fic that I try very hard not to think about, because the moment I noped out was a moment too late. (To be clear it wasn’t a bad fic, it just had something happen that was an absolute nope for me...which is usually the case when I decide I have to stop reading, because I know where that line is for me)

I’m coming to your house for dinner, non-negotiable, what are you making me?:

Erm! I am making you…hmm. Depends on if you have any dietary restrictions. I have allergies so I need to be very careful, and I’d probably also ask what your favourite meal was/what you felt like eating so I could make it for you

Do you prefer lions or kangaroos?:

Both can kill you relatively easily, so both have my respect. Though kangaroos are a bit more unhinged about it

Which fictional villain do you brush past the glaringly obvious issues for because you really like them?:

None! If I like a fictional villain I like them because of the glaringly obvious issues. Not all characters have to be good for you to like them, and liking them doesn’t have to be excusing the things they have done/the fact they are a villain

What would accompany your picture in the Burn Book in Mean Girls?:

I don’t think I’m interesting enough to have anything particularly striking next to my name. Maybe 'this person will sit reading a book in a pub and ignore you', because I have actually done this, and the book in question was The Fellowship of the Ring

How many days would you last in the universe of your favourite fandom?:

Oh, definitely 0—because Dream would sense me joining the collective unconscious of his universe and instantly judge me for all the fic I’ve been writing about him and drop kick me out of his universe. Or, even worse, appear before me with his head tilted mockingly, then smirk smugly and force me to listen to him read them all out loud

In which case I’d be the one drop kicking myself out of his universe out of sheer mortification

Have you heard of Mischief Theatre?:

Yes! Never been to one of their shows but have heard great things :)

Do you feel sorry for Medusa?:

Medusa would never care enough about what anyone else thought for my opinion of her to matter. And me feeling sorry for her wouldn't define her as inherently deserving of sympathy, or inherently not deserving of it

All jokes aside, this question does hinge on what version of her myth you go with, as I've heard quite a few. Overall I think that all characters are, in some ways, worthy of empathy or at least deserve an attempt to be understood, so I suppose my answer is yes

Which song makes you think of your OTP?:

I am a terrible shipper because I have no songs for my ships! Feel free to suggest some!

Which song makes you disassociate and daydream the fastest?:

Oh it changes depending on what song is currently stuck in my head! But anything that is fast enough to keep up with my thoughts and then disappear into the background while I daydream

[saiaisaiko]

Devotion of Love Chapter 14 - Whispers in the Night

Have chapter 14 as a treat for the 6th of December. It's time for the conversation about possible complications between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. And no, it would be too risky to have that conversation through Inquiry with all the guests around. Anyway, under the cut is an excerpt of the chapter.

Unrelated thoughts. Does anybody know why they are so cuddly and soft with each other when I write them?

„I’m sorry it took so long to come to you. Jiang Cheng recognized me. I am still connected to the golden core inside him, can you believe that? We were dual cultivating the whole time“, Wei Wuxian explained. He yelped as he suddenly had Lan Zhan biting his arm. Not hard enough to draw blood, but it was as painful as a horse's bite. „No, bad Lan Zhan! What are you? A dog?“

„Don’t like it“, the Lan cultivator mumbled petulantly. The adorable mannerisms and the slightly darker ear tips brought a laugh out of Wei Wuxian.

„I know, Jiang Cheng was horrified and demanded I change that as soon as possible. But I will need your help with that“, Wei Wuxian explained after he caught his breath from his sudden burst of giggles. „You will need to hold me down, while I cut myself open and sever the core from myself. No, we don’t go and claim it back as mine, it was a gift I gave freely and I don’t regret it.“

„Not his core“, Lan Zhan pouted. Then he furrowed his brows. „Jiang Wanyin was not the only one to recognize Wei Ying. Nie Huaisang sends his regards.“

„He recognized me? He is not as dumb as you all think him to be, but that‘s still impressive“, he marveled, pondering about the news. „Lan Zhan, what else did he discuss with you?“

„The rumors about the cause of death of the former Jin sect leader and the relationships my brother may or may not wish for“, Lan Zhan answered. „Wei Ying, I have questions. Is the knowledge of a person a good-with-people thing?“

„Where does this come from now?“, Wei Wuxian asked back, surprised by the direction their conversation took. „No, don’t be embarrassed, I’m just surprised. I think it is a mix of observation and empathy. Those are qualities that would get you into the ‚good-with-people‘ category. But you also need charisma to be good with people. Take Jiang Cheng as an example. He normally has a sound observation and can be charismatic if he needs to be, but he lacks a huge chunk of empathy. And your brother is oblivious about the things around him but still classifies as good-with-people. But both of them don’t know everyone you asked about. Jiang Cheng does have this sort of knowledge about me and Lan Xichen about you, but they get things wrong if Jiang Cheng is expected to interpret you and vice versa.“

„There is a personal component too“, Lan Zhan realized, nodding and furrowing his brows.

„Some are better and Huaisang did listen to me waxing on about you when we were teenagers. He is a good listener and he has great observational skills. He is easy to talk to and he is an easygoing person on the surface. All things that would help with getting to know somebody and his empathy helps implement his knowledge. Does this help?“, Wei Wuxian finished his little lecture, letting himself be pulled into an embrace and soft cuddles.

[overx]

thegatesofinfinitespace​:

…That’s…

For the umpteenth time today, the X finds himself giving pause. It’s an unusual issue; most would think him backwards for even finding the scenario itself to be odd. If someone asked you if you’re doing okay, that’s considered a normal question to ask.

…

Except it… isn’t, for Verse. Usually he didn’t notice, and– it wasn’t a problem that he didn’t– it was just that… he simply wasn’t good at reading those kinds of nuances. Psi took no issue with that fact either; Verse wasn’t normal by any standard, and he didn’t fault him for something his creator had never had the chance to complete.

…Maybe it was just weird because… Well, the Over had been acting oddly already. “Sorry,” is all he can start with, surprise in his voice.

“I… didn’t think you’d notice.” That I’d like surprises. That I was acting out of the norm. “You don’t normally…. point that out.” Psi stops, embarrassed, feeling a bit awkward. “N-Not that it ever bothered me! I know that you’re not accustomed to recognizing those kinds of things, and I never said anything so–”

It feels bad to point it out. He’s not used to having these kinds of conversations anymore. He rubs his face with a wince, unable to look at his boyfriend. “I. Um, you’re… acting strange. That’s why I was off. Are you sure everything’s alright with you?”

It does not take long for the response to register, but does, by the reploid’s standards. A few nanoseconds more of processing than regularly required -- infinitesimal to all but fellow machines. Not because the answer is bewildering, but merely an unconsidered solution.  For Psi at least, the abnormal effects are readily apparent.

In fact, the OVER’s usual lack of empathy-- or rather sudden grasp of it, seems to be wholly the cause for alarm.  I believe this is what they call irony at its finest.  His companion is nothing if not honest, but something in the X’s words... 

‘I didn’t think you’d notice.’

“Oh,” is replied simply at first, an almost kneejerk response from the typically analytical android. Verse is not quite sure what face he’s making, but he is aware there is... some sort of expression there. It slips onto his features naturally without thought nor poor mimicry. 

....it is entirely unfamiliar. 

“All systems nominal,” the usual curt report to such a question, though he knows already it is not enough information. “I am in working order. I did have an issue with an attempted framework incursion earlier, but I believe there will be no lasting damage.” ....

“...on reflection that sounds...” not great. “...worse than it is.”