#they even have quote unquote perfect brothers

[haveyouthoughtaboutcomicstoday]

[project-sekai-news]

Living Up to the Name - the Bad Dog

Welcome back to PJSK News! This is your reporter speaking, Hoshino Ichika. With me here is Tenma Saki, PJSK News' professional journalist.

Ichi, I'm not a pro -

Today we are reporting about the crime of Shinonome Akito, a player on a famous baseball team called the Street Sekai Bad Dogs. The crime he was convicted of is kicking a cat as he was walking down the sidewalk. Witnesses include photographer Azusawa Kohane and Senator Shiraishi An, who claims a baker and fellow Bad Dogs player Aoyagi Toya was also there but won't, quote unquote, "fess up."

Azusawa Kohane has taken a photo of the crime occuring, which we will show on the screen now. It is slightly blurred because she screamed and jumped while taking it.

Hey! I didn't scream! An pushed -

Ahem. As I was saying, the court will be held at 5:30 pm tomorrow in the Shibuya Courthouse. The offendant is Senator Shinonome Ena, the older sister of Shinonome Akito, who wasn't even there at the scene of the crime but jumped at the chance to throw her younger brother in jail. Her lawyer is Momoi Airi, a sought-out lawyer. The defendant is Shinonome Akito, and his lawyer is Aoyagi Toya, who did go to law school by force of his father but isn't actually a lawyer.

Ich - Hoshino, how are you so sure that Akito is going to be thrown in jail if the court hasn't even been held yet?

Because look at their lawyers, Tenma. Momoi has never lost a court case, and Aoyagi is a baker and baseball player. He went to law school, but against Momoi, his chances are pretty slim.

Yeah, that's true. Akito should have chosen a different lawyer.

Well, no one was willing to except for Aoyagi, and if Shiraishi was telling the truth, he should've seen Akito kick the cat. Either way, Akito is getting sentenced to jail for animal abuse.

Well, my brother will see you there, Akito!

What do you mean, your brother? Is the Pegasus -

He made a little girl cry at his last show and told me he was going to turn himself in.

Damn. Maybe Kamishiro will talk him out of it.

Doubtful! Onii-chan was screaming crying on the ground sobbing his - oh crap, we're still live, aren't we?

Wait - should I not be filming this?

Uh - that's all for PJSK News everyone! Join us next time as we report what happens next to Shinonome Akito!

Byeee~!

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

Akiyama should have the article up soon. She should be editing it right now.

I hope Onii-chan won't be too mad that I said that..

Tsukasa doesn't really care about those things though, does he? Also, how did he make her cry?

Oh! He went like..

I AM A WORLD!! FUTURE!! STAR!!!!! DANCE!! AND!! SING!!!!!! in perfect English!

That sounds like him, alright...

[tinysmileyrose]

a shitty analyzation of AM/RAM/CAM's manufacturing years

OKAY SO. hear me the fuck out here. something people seem to befuddle and get messy is the fact that IHNMaIMS takes place in an alternate universe where the cold war became wwIII- and on occasion i decide to try and shuffle through lore soo.. yeah.

there will be a lot of text and i don't actually expect anyone to read this, it's more for myself. but!! i tried to make everything somewhat simple to understand, so hopefully my points are clear enough.

First off, I SWEAR I read somewhere that AM was created during the height of the Cold War, which with a google search gives you October 1962...and honestly, that's not a terrible year, by itself, but I'll get into why I don't really like it a bit later.

For now, here's some text from the short story/comic (yes, I added both, sue me):

For this we get a base timeline, asthe Cold War was from 1947–1991.

And this states when they were actually worked on, 1945-1989, which is actually pretty inline with the years of our Cold War! Since it implies that they were worked on during those years, the supercomputers were finished around 1989 give or take a few years (I assume 1989 was the year the last was finished, ceasing the working on).

Which, given that, we can begin to guess what years each were worked on... 1945-19?? ("oldest") 19??-19?? ("middle") 19??-1989 ("youngest")

And that leads us into the "age" order! This is going to be based on the countries, nothing else: - America generally seems to be considered the most powerful during this time; along with the fact that they had made ENIAC (the first digital computer) in 1945 helps back this up that, given they were high in tensions, they would make a war computer, and AM would be the "oldest" (that could be an explanation as to why it is the surface computer quote, unquote, because it was the first). - Russia had a bit of difficulty in technology at first but caught up to America fairly quickly, if you look at the Space Race. With this in mind, they would likely have started some time after America began their supercomputer, resulting in RAM being the "middle". - China was actually in a Civil War from 1927–1949, meaning they likely had less resources to even think about making a supercomputer for a while, and logically would have started and thus finished last, making CAM the "youngest".

Now, I know this goes against typical thought processes, and I do agree that AM is childish. But then again, I think of AM as...not separate from CAM and RAM. They are supposed to be AM together, mainly due to these from an above picture:

They began to speak to each other. The deadly trio. The three poisonous brothers, the three deranged sisters, the three computers. And they united. They called themselves AM. Not Allied Mastercomputer. Not Adaptive Manipulator. Not even Aggressive Menace. They…it…called itself AM, as in I AM. Cogito ergo sum, in Latin. I think, therefore I AM.

Because the Final War has broken out, and in a matter of a few days AM has done the perfect job of fulfilling the purpose for which its separate parts were created. Built to logically destroy the enemy as swiftly and sweetly as a superior intelligence could manage, in the Most Perfect of All Worlds, the unholy trinity of the merged one-mind AM has done just that. It has murdered the enemy totally. It has wiped the human race off the face of the planet.

So, while you can think of them as siblings, note that they're more or less the same unit of thought (this is to say, I do love the idea of them being siblings/triplets and 100% agree that AM would be the youngest).

Although, to possibly use the headcanons where Ellen and/or Benny worked on AM, it would have been finished in 1989. Note that the youngest either would be able to be would be 41, assuming they were 18 as of 1989, therefore they're likely older (this is going with its takeover being in 2012).

Remember the year 1962? Going with...whatever I might've read, 27 years for a military supercomputer makes sense, seeing as it would hold all knowledge!

anyway that's all for now i have no idea what else to write thanks for reading thiss <3

Links: SHORT STORY (PDF) STRATEGY GUIDE (MONSTER read, I haven't finished it in all truth) MANUAL (explains the game a bit, think of it as instructions) COMIC (comic of the short story, slightly different wording)

[im-just-another-pony]

I would be torn apart violently alive on tiktok if I shared this there... But this isn't tiktok so screw it! >:D

So, for context. My brother (my dog, his name is Teddy btw) is the pickiest eater ever! So, when my mother showed up with some dog cookies, he just denied them and didn't even attempted to try em! So they have been just laying around since then...

These is the package, for the ones who don't speak spanish, it basically says it's for better fresh breath, it's for adults, and that is mint and/or eucalyptus flavored!

I checked the ingredients out of curiosity, because come on, they can't be that bad, and also because... They have never seen that unappetizing! The smell and looks are kinda bland, but they look pretty edible! So I was like... 'Screw it, if he isn't even trying them, I will!'

The ingredients didn't seem to list anything unsafe to eat for human bodies, but I was warned that ingredients quality and food safety measurements aren't the same for dog food and human food, so I didn't want to risk my own health just for a funny haha story. More than one cookie seemed like not the best idea...

So I ate half of a small one! A very small flavor and texture test just to check it out, and as a canine, it felt nice!

I am very sensible towards textures, but the cookies were absolutely the perfect texture for me! Soft and not so crunchy. Flavor was a different story... Don't get me wrong! It wasn't nasty or disgusting.

It was just, mostly flavorless, very light hints of flavor that were almost not there. The 'mint' the package promised was more of an after eating sensation in my mouth, just fresh sensation. Very bland flavor, almost no flavor. I can really see why my brother didn't even care to try em.

And, as a side note, yeah, I have met other, quote unquote, 'actual dogs' who haven't liked em either, which really seems like these aren't just top tier for em. Teddy, as picky as he is, would have gave em a 3/10 if he had ate one, I just know him.

My opinion? 6/10, the texture saves them a lot, but they have not a passing score, I wouldn't reccomend em unless you are into very flavorless soft cookies. They are not exactly bad, which is why I can't give them a lower score, I would eat one again, for real! But it wouldn't be something I would call 'worth it'.

In conclusion? I was not missing on anything... Sadge.

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

When I was in college, I wasn't the quote unquote perfect activist. I am definitely not immune to making mistakes, especially in the heat of emotional moments. But...let's talk about my experiences for a moment.

-During my first semester of college I joined my university's local PRIDE club. I suggest that we do some sort of clothing drive, and have a place where anyone can give or take clothing. The intent of this was obvious and person: I came from family who either did not really understand my transness or actively disapproved of it and didn't have an income. I could not be the only one. We should be helpful in this way, to our trans brothers and sisters.

Sometime later, someone suggests changing the clothing drive into a clothing sale to fund their Drag Ball. PRIDE under that semester's leadership never does a clothing drive. My vision would not be completed until a couple of semesters later, working with my university's LGBT Center, and working loosely with PRIDE's new management.

-The one thing I failed to notice coming into PRIDE was that I couldn't find other trans women. That didn't bother me, and I was fairly popular early on. This was until someone else came out as a transgender woman. Initially I was happy to have another trans woman as a friend, but I very quickly began to notice the social effect. They were shorter, smaller, and more femme. Their social transition progressed much faster than mine, because they weren't poor. They regularly got many clothes from their friends in PRIDE, even as discussions occurred about a clothing drive. I got nothing. I was being outfemmed.

-I noticed the uplifting of drag performers and drag stars by many of my cis and nonbinary peers in the group. I often asked myself why this happened. For some of these people, drag was almost a lifestyle. The performance of hyper-femininity by someone who was AMAB in the context of a drag show was met with cheers, applause, fandom. Meanwhile, my displays of my own femininity were met with nothing. Those same people never complimented me.

-The president of PRIDE gave a presentation on the history of drag. They mentioned Ru Paul, but handwaved away their trans-misogynistic comments, saying they were unimportant.

-A considerable amount of time later, our LGBT Center did a wide survey of queer people on campus. Some responses by cis lesbians bemoaned a lack of lesbian support groups, and more importantly, that they didn't feel like they ever saw anyone that looked like them at the center. I object to this finding, because I myself am a lesbian, I am what they are looking for and am always at the center. I bring up the possibility that the comment may be transphobic. I am shot down. I was denying other people's feelings. I was a trans woman, not a lesbian.

-A dear friend of mine suggests doing a PRIDE event about learning how to do make-up. This is something I was in great support of, because I did not like the extent trans women were expected in a very short span of time to grasp all the complexities of the role of woman in today's society, when cis women get so much longer. What will not be included is tutorials of using make-up to cover facial hair follicles. They did not want to focus on tutorials about passing. I protest, in part because the darkness of my follicles is something I'm very self-conscious of, and that passing in itself is something that a lot of trans woman want. The make-up event never happens.

-A trans woman is talking about her transition experience. She is notably well off and has gotten a variety of surgeries. She explains this is ultimately the path that all trans women need to take, unless they end up looking like "fishy boys". This notably impacts my friend in a severe way.

-A series of hate crimes strikes campus rapidly. Someone spray-paints the "N" word on one of the school buildings, while conversion therapy pamphlets are deliberately left in classrooms teaching about LGBT subjects. Campus police do not care to investigate. PRIDE and BSU being to work collaboratively on a protest. The atmosphere is very good, there are a variety of different but very good conversations, and both groups work well on various tasks that were planned. The protest does not focus on what happened to LGBT students. Members of the LGBT Center and of PRIDE did not speak. We, who had been working hand and hand, were reduced to a footnote and a one-liner in a chant.

-While asking for more information about the investigation into both of these incidents, myself, the Title 9 administrator, and one of my coworkers, a black queer woman, are invited to a meeting with the VP of Student Affairs and the detective on the case. None of us were made aware of the presence of the chief of police nor of a third officer whose purpose was unknown. These investigations would never result in anything.

-In the issue of the school newspaper that reported on the hate crimes, included as well along side of it was a story about how conservatives felt like they were being silenced on campus.

-When I first went to college, I went to Housing to discuss the possibility of gender neutral housing, which they have on their website. I am told there is none, but they can make an accommodation by giving myself my own dorm room on the men's floor. I had been unable to transition before this point because of living with religious conservative family members. I am told that if I want to have a room on the women's floor, where I would have a more private showering area that was not a public shower with other men, that I would need the gender on my birth certificate changed.

Both of these were lies.

-I have a discussion with my mother about her continuing to deadname me, noting that I did not want to end up confusing my niece once she became old enough to remember my name. This does not change.

This is just, the experiences that I can recall while writing this post. It is not an exhaustive list. Discussing school administrations chronic underfunding of the LGBT Center and the resulting drama that caused over years would be an entirely new post. There's possibly even more stuff that I've simply just fucking forgotten over the years. It wasn't all bad. I met some truly incredible people and did some truly incredible things.

But there was bad. Some of it was general, but a lot of it was trans misogynistic, even if I don't think it was always intentional. A lot of these experiences changed me into the jaded bitch I am today on a lot of issues.

[alpineshift]

I WANT A THATCHER FIOR MYSELF PLEASE. The obsession hitting both of them once they finally sleep together is so real. The family moments were so perfect and the way Thatcher broke the news to Jack and considered the whole situation with him made me melt. Also the way I need a fic with Thatcher and Quinn from you because you write them so fucking well, to be seen is to be loved and Thatcher fucking sees Quinn (if I’m being honest I got distract way too much by those two and lowkey forgot this was abt NicoJack fir a quick second). The fact that everyone who sees them interact clocks their feelings for each other will never not be funny to me. I am so sad to see this end but I can’t wait to see what you’ve wrote for the grand finale 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

haha highkey I also got a bit distracted by the quinn/thatcher sideplot LOL just know that for every bit of drama jacknico are going through there is some poor soul having very normal problems running in parallel to them. Clearcliffe is a busy town.

like, imagine you're Thatcher Demko and you have a pretty sweet gig as a physiotherapist for the Canucks and you're dating the incredibly talented and career-driven and dedicated Assistant Coach of the team. He's so normal and your lives are so routine-based and he does the very typical thing of inviting you back to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Standard, right?

But then he comes home one day with a storm cloud on his face because his youngest brother just broke the news that their other brother got cheated on and fully disrespected right before your flight out and now you have to talk him down from getting into the car and driving three hours to Seattle to jump the guy. Then you two fly into his hometown and try to clean up a little and decorate and only for a glitter bomb to go off in the bedroom and now you're covered in sparkles and you can't even kiss him 'till you're clean (and you still keep finding glitter in places you didn't think was possible). And then his mom takes you and the other kid brother's boyfriend out for a nice brunch while the others grocery shop, except when you get back they're all covered in icing sugar looking like they've been through a war zone, what the hell? And all the while you have to sneak time in and quote-unquote ask/talk/inform his family of a very specific surprise you're planning. And you have to keep an eye on some precious cargo in your luggage in case your boyfriend accidentally finds it. And suddenly that heartbroken younger brother is getting real cozy with this cute guy that helped their mom remodel their solarium, you think? And now your boyfriend is chomping at the bit to interrogate him and whew this holiday is already getting so out of hand and you're kind of relieved for the current league that your boyfriend never followed through his dreams of becoming a defensemen on ice, because that would've been insanity.

and you still haven't even come up with a real proposal plan yet.

there's a whole other world going on in this universe LOL

thank you for reading! 🥹🥹🥹

[tearfest]

closed starter for @r3dblccd.

ㅤㅤcollege is a bore. especially since it was her third attempt at her freshman year. she would’ve happily dropped out if it wasn’t for the fact that her professor of an older brother wasn’t so persistent in not letting her fail. and so she tries again and again, and she gets bad grades again and again. so, is there any wonder why she hates the school, and its students, so much? even to the point of murder. not that she’d count it as that. after all, she is only killing the boys.

ㅤㅤshe’s only killed two so far — leaving her one away from being serial. maybe tonight was the night. parties serve as the perfect hunting ground, rife with drunk frat boys pining for the kiss of her lips and, unknowingly, her blade. she may be drunk, empty flask in hand, but she isn’t stupid enough to risk it tonight, even if it is tempting… because she had someone better to pursue, only she would never hurt chinhwa. not whilst he’s still her current fixation. she’s spent the whole night practically glued to him, shadowing him intermittently as if she was the grim reaper dressed in all black. he’s the one guy she can’t seem to have, and that only fuels the fire of her twisted infatuation. 

ㅤㅤa black, coffin-shaped nail taps against his shoulder to get his attention, standing behind him as she presses against the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear.  “ so, when’s the part where you ask me to go home with you so you can quote-unquote help me with my algebra. ”  her sentence is equally as genuine as it is teasing, wanting nothing more than to make him hers in every sense of the word — but she seems to be enjoying the chase more than she’d expected.

[aurorablooded]

Leo didn't even bat an eye at the cigarette Holli lit when she joined him, instead he promptly took it from between her fingers without missing a beat and smoked it himself. He listened when she began to explain, the pinch between his brows growing a little deeper which normally would have the elder Malikov complaining about aging his perfect face.

He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing, it didn't sound like Ender, not the Ender Leo knew in any case. "What the fuck Ender." Leo shook his head in disbelief and disappointment as he finished Holli's cigarette, discarding the butt into his empty glass as soon as that was drained of its contents.

"Okay so, backtrack. Ender, my clearly deluded twin, has decided to quote unquote 'give himself over to chaos' all for the sake of entertainment?" Leo questioned, already moving to pour himself another drink and this time something much stronger. "When I find him I'm going to hit him upside his fucking head so hard, he'll wish he had the hangover from Bali." He huffed in almost irritation at his brother. "Oh and I'm hardly surprised daddy dearest knows jack shit, because when have any of the gods actually been helpful? No, we don't need his lazy ass to deal with Ender. I'll find him and I'll bring the idiot home."

holli was late, but also still already sipping on a signature fruit concoction she'd brought with her from her room. it was clearly an off week for maintenance and her eyeliner looked like it could conceivably been wiped and reapplied for a couple days in lieu of properly washing it off. she lit a cigarette immediately upon sitting down, holding up a hand to indicate she didn't want to hear anything about it, whether he was currently smoking or not...or was that ender? she squinted blearily over at him when she did fully address, already feeling guilty to not be bright and cheery.

"well, he brought us to a dream a few months ago or something, he'd possessed someone and was trying to kill us. that shit hurt forreal too. and then he went on to monologue about how he was giving his life over to chaos, madness as entertainment, something something. basically he's gone rogue." holli groaned to hear herself tell the same story again, the last time to dio feeling like an actual blade to her psyche to remember. "also dio is here and doesn't have anything useful to contribute, so don't even worry about askin." belatedly, she reached out to pat leo's forearm, again wishing she could welcome him home better, but finding herself unable to actually bridge the gap and do it.

[wormizh]

the demon brothers (before the fall)

tl;dr: headcanons about who the brothers were as angels (their status, their work, etc.) Including all 7 brothers. The rest under the read more.

warnings/info: some spoilers for content revealed in season 3 + vague info about angelic demons event! also featuring my own headcanons about the celestial realm which the game may or may not contradict in the next update LMAO + not proofread!

word count: 1.9k (i sat down to write this and went “this’ll be quick.” lol)

LUCIFER

No angel had ever questioned Lucifer as a Seraph. If any angel was perfect for the role, it was him. Strict but fair, one who saw the value in skill in every angel he crossed paths with, Lucifer was the perfect attendant to his father and leader of the choirs of the Celestial Realm. Lucifer took his responsibilities as a Seraph, as The Morning Star, incredibly seriously. Though many came to him for help, he would tend to his own matters without a word to those uninvolved. His self-sufficiency occasionally put him at odds with the other Seraphim, most of all Simeon, though their disagreements only strengthened their bond of trust in one another’s skill. They were something of a team, brothers for a time, for when they worked together no loose ends remained.

Even with the skill of other Seraphs in mind though, Lucifer found himself the most suited for any task he wanted done. Unless forbidden from acting alone, he was all too eager to avoid the hassle of recruiting other angels to work at his side. If you want something right, do it yourself, as the saying goes. The exception to this, of course, was Mammon. Michael offered his assistance to Lucifer endlessly, but something about Michael’s protégé (a restless, fast-thinking and faster-talking young angel, wasted in warrior training) caught his attention instead. Mammon became his assistant, though this was more on-paper than in practice. In practice they worked well side-by-side, the Seraph and the Throne who could fix any problem. Lucifer might have even called him a most trusted confidant (and vice-versa) though never to one another’s faces.

His fall shook the Celestial Realm. It is not great for morale for the most upstanding member of your society to turn against it. For a long while, to even speak about the Brothers (though The Morning Star most of all) was frowned upon.

MAMMON

Mammon, all things considered, had been content with life as an Archangel. Though Michael’s efforts in the Great Celestial War have since raised him to nigh-first sphere status for an Archangel, typically the warriors of the heavens are not so acclaimed. Nor are they paid much attention to, a fact Mammon used to prank younger angels or sell human world contraband throughout the Celestial Realm. Altogether, though, he was loyal and did his duty (as far as he was concerned, at least) in fighting whatever threats he was asked to. Michael, the angel set to instruct him on how to be an Archangel, was convinced he was constantly moments away from falling to Sin and ruin. (If only Michael could see him now, he thinks! If Michael would look away from Lucifer for even a second, that is.) 

Lucifer stepping in to recommend his promotion to Throne status was controversial, but as it turned out Mammon was an excellent right-hand-angel. A Throne’s work is in taking care of matters a Seraph is too busy for: solving conflict, defining rules, clarifying judgements, an odd grab bag of jobs that Mammon took to excellently. Lucifer had been right in assessing that his (quote unquote) enterprising business acumen (Raphael had preferred to call it flagrant, fall-worthy breaking of the Laws of the Celestial Realm) would translate well to the work of a Throne. Before their rebellion, Mammon had wanted to ask Lucifer if he could ever be considered for promotion to the ranks of Seraph. He’s forgotten the notion by now.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan was made to be a commander — most angels, especially back when he was first created, were made with explicit purpose in mind. His title as Cherubim was nominal, every angel really knew Leviathan as a General first and foremost. Unlike most Cherubim, Leviathan had never been given specific blessed ground to guard. He was trained quickly in the arts of war, the nature of weaponry and battle. He had once, briefly, wielded the flaming sword to train with it. He lived and breathed holy, righteous battle.

Until the realms declared peace and he was left without a war to look forward to. Though the army remained, its use dwindled the longer the Realms remained in peace. Other Cherubim who had been in the war returned to their blessed grounds to protect them, or to guarding the Seraphim, and Leviathan was left without a purpose or a passion. A general without a battalion, a soldier without a fight. Discussing war, even in the hypothetical (and he did try doing so, dedicating hours to designing fictional conflicts to put some use to the training he’d spent his life on) was now frowned upon. Why devote so much time to battle when there hasn’t been one in ages, after all? He seldom left his chambers, right up until the events of the Great Celestial War, when he was able to battle once more — now against his former allies, but it hardly mattered. 

SATAN

Satan was born fallen. The first memories that are truly his are of plummeting to the Devildom, the Celestial Gates firmly closed to him. Lucifer was a Seraphim, so in many ways Satan was one as well. In memories that he did not make, he is ordering lower-ranking younger angels to do their tasks. He is training and watching out for angels who have not yet earned a ranking in the choir. He has never done any of these things. 

When magic had turned the brothers back into angels, Satan kept his mouth shut as the rest complained. Having his own angelic form, one that wasn’t just a copy of Lucifer’s, had taken a weight he’d never noticed off his shoulders. He looks at pictures taken that day and compares details of his form, one created entirely by magic, to that of his brothers, those sculpted more carefully by their Father. He notes his tail, something no angel possesses, a holdover from his demonic form, or the feathers wrapped around his neck, remnants of Lucifer’s. 

The magic had suppressed his true feelings, perhaps that was how angels lived? Without proper anger, or any emotion outside of gentle understanding. He couldn’t really know. He is not truly an angel, he never was, and no magic can alter his being like that, but the idea of himself as one is enticing. He’d never ask, because to admit to this curiosity would be admitting dissatisfaction, but he wonders what rank he would be.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus was a Power in the Celestial Realm. Powers are curious angels, those whose duty lies not in commanding fellow angels or in leading humans, but in maintaining balance of the realms. Asmodeus’ experiences with all facets of being, with other living things, with nature, with watching over how the two interact, gave him an immense appreciation of the world. Everything that existed was beautiful, so he would love it all. He found himself an angel with too much affection for the ways of the world to ever want to intervene. A Power, first and foremost, combats evil or sinful influence in the name of the Celestial Realm. Asmodeus was far more fascinated by that which he was meant to destroy.

This upset Raphael, the first-sphere angel he reported to. Asmo grew extremely skilled in avoiding a lecture, a penchant of both Lucifer and Raphael, and he later grew even more skilled in sneaking down into the human world to experience the glories of their realm firsthand. While Lilith and Belphie snuck down to observe humanity up close, or to walk by their side unnoticed (until Lilith fell for one, at least), Asmo tagged along to speak to humans, to dance with them, learn their songs and traditions and the lessons they had to share. Asmo found himself down in the human realm, the highlights of his life before the fall not in the Celestial Realm where he was born, but with his hands clasped in a human’s, learning how to feel music flow through him.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub was as proper a Cherubim as they come. A presence that emanated protection. Born strong, Beelzebub was sure he was meant to be an Archangel. All of his power needed a purpose, something to rally his own strength behind, but the thought of battle never enticed him. By the time Belphegor, the angel he’d been born alongside, his closest brother, was discovering his own talent for blessings, Beelzebub was discovering just how abysmal he was in combat. Raphael never entertained the notion of him as a soldier, no matter how much effort he put into training.

“You were not born to attack.” Lucifer told him, seriously. Beelzebub had been ready to give up, to succumb to being a title-less angel of the lowest rank, when Lucifer informed him that his training made him a perfect Cherub. Beelzebub acted out of love more than duty, to keep that which he loved safe would suit him far better than training to fight faceless hordes of demons. That was what Lucifer told the other Seraphim, at least, and so Beelzebub found himself stationed at the gates to the Celestial Realm, surveying those who came and left (it was not many, really. Angels tended to stay in their realm, and even after the treaty those of the Devildom were reluctant to visit) If nothing else, his position keeping the gate allowed him to assist Belphie and Lilith (Asmo, too, though Asmo preferred using his own methods to sneak out) to whisk away to the human realm.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor is a former Principality — those who bequeath blessings onto the human realm, often under the advising of a Dominion. The job of a Principality is to guide or advise from afar, but Belphie was never fond of the distance. Belphegor was regarded with great esteem by his fellow angels, despite his penchant for sleeping through days of work. His blessings were always fair, never excessive, or unearned, colored by some unique understanding of how to best assist humans that even the Dominations, despite all the watching over humans they did, could not grasp.

Of course, his secret was that his understanding of human’s needs came from walking amongst them. Angels are not meant to reveal themselves to humans unless in times of strict peril, and to travel throughout the realms without permission was to break Laws set in place by the Seraphim, but Belphegor was never quite the stickler for rules. Following them was only for convenience's sake, and sometimes they impeded upon his desires. Belphegor’s obsession with the human realm was an open secret, at least among his brothers. The world of humans was one of freedom and creation in a way the Celestial Realm could never achieve. Angels were always subdued, always warning one another when they were too close to sin, but humans were vibrant. Belphegor wanted to be a human more than anything, his dreams colored by life in their world, life as one of them, until the death of his sister. He doesn’t dream much in the Devildom — he thinks he’s lost the ability.

BONUS!

Lilith was an Archangel. Her passion and dedication made her a wonderful fit for a warrior of the Celestial Realms. Unlike her brother, Beelzebub, she was as much a protector as she was a fighter. She would defend that which she loved with her life, a trait noble for a soldier, until it is turned upon the army which trained her. Her passion for her home realm quickly shifted to a fascination with the human world, and soon a devotion to one human man, one who she vowed she would violate any heavenly law for.

Upon her reincarnation, Lilith remembered little of who she was aside from her powerful love for one man, who she lived out the rest of her life alongside, and a sense of loss she could not place. 

[alexskarsgardnet]

New Interview & Photo Shoot!  Alex photographed by Johan Sandberg and interviewed by Timothy Small for L’Uomo Vogue (October 2020)!

Alexander Skarsgård: the photo shoot and interview for L'Uomo

BY TIMOTHY SMALL, JOHAN SANDBERG 25 SEPTEMBER 2020

Alexander Skarsgård is a really, really nice man. A Swede through and through, Alexander, or Alex, is a very down-to-earth gentleman who could definitely act as more of a big shot, considering he is also one of the most interesting actors in Hollywood right now, a town that, in true Swedish style, he once defined as “kind of silly”. After getting his first big break as the lead in David Simon's excellent Iraq War mini-series for HBO, Generation Kill, Skarsgård exploded in our collective imaginations as Eric Northman in True Blood, while also acting for Lars von Trier in the wonderful Melancholia. 

Since then, he has been a very buff Tarzan in The Legend of Tarzan, a mute bartender in future Berlin in Mute, a very dark killer in Hold the Dark, and a hilarious Canadian Prime Minister in Long Shot, as well as giving an Emmy- and Golden Globe-winning turn in HBO's Big Little Lies. The self-defined “restless” 43-year-old is set to star in The Northman, Robert Eggers's highly anticipated third film, a “Viking revenge story” that Skarsgård himself was crucial in bringing to production – and, by all accounts, it seems like it could have all the right pieces to become a future cult classic. It certainly has that kind of hype.

L'Uomo Vogue:  The Northman is such an interesting project. I know it's important to you. It's also part of a growing resurgence of interest in the Viking era and Norse mythology and that sort of epic Scandinavian adventure. How did it all begin?

Alex:  It all started seven or eight years ago. As a Swede living in America, I realised there was a certain level of fascination with the Viking era and Viking culture – and this was before any of the Viking shows that have since happened. It made me realise that there basically had never been a real great epic Viking movie made, and I thought that that's what I wanted to do.

LV:  So how did the project kick off?

Alex:  I started having conversations with a studio back then, trying to crack the best story. All I knew at the time is that I wanted to make a big Viking movie. We had a couple of potential different starting points: we had a story about two brothers, and then one about the Viking travels down to Constantinople with the Viking siege of the city. We were looking for the right story, but I never really felt we were there. I knew the scope I wanted it to exist in. But what was the story?

LV:  And that's when you met Robert Eggers.

Alex:  Yes, like three or four years ago. We met about something else. I can't remember how, but we started talking about Vikings. And he was, like me, a huge fan of Viking culture and of that historical era, and I immediately felt he would be the perfect guy to direct this movie. And then we found an author and poet in Iceland, Sjón, who came onboard to write the screenplay – and they did a fantastic job, just cracking the story and the essence of it.

LV:  Sounds great.

Alex:  It's a real adventure movie, but it's much more. It taps into the culture, and the mysticism of the Vikings, it becomes more intimate and more personal. I didn't want it to be a generic “swords-and-sandals” movie. Robert is one of the best filmmakers out there. And the whole process is so much more gratifying than when you're quote-unquote “just an actor”. It's been truly extraordinary.

LV:  But then you had to halt production.

Alex:  Yeah. I was in Belfast, Northern Ireland, three months into prep on The Northman about seven days away from principal photography. Just gearing up, you know, getting ready to start a very long, very intense shoot -- a shoot that we were scheduled to wrap in July – and that's when the virus hit.

LV:  What did you do then?

Alex:  I normally live in New York, while my family lives in Stockholm. When the first wave came, I was on the fence: nobody really knew how long it would be, or what precisely was going on. So we shut down production for six weeks. The idea was to then see what would happen. I basically moved to Stockholm for four months.

LV:  How do you feel about this forced break from work?

Alex:  I had not been home for this long in... more than 20 years. It was strange. We were in a bubble; we were all healthy and safe. In a lot of ways, I had moments when I felt being surrounded by my loving family, feeling safe and loved, and taking a break from work, but then also feeling very guilty because I was, for the lack of a better term, being spared.

LV:  In the past, you've described yourself as being a nomad. Did you miss Sweden and the North?

Alex:  I realised how much I have been missing it. I go to Sweden regularly, but usually only for three or four days, maybe a week, tops. My father and two of my brothers are actors, so we're used to never being in the same city. We all travel all over the world. Maybe we'd get back together for Christmas. And I can really say that I had missed spring in Sweden.

LV:  Do you think we will change the way movies are produced?

Alex:  We're going to have to figure out how to shoot movies with dozens of crew members and hundreds of extras while still respecting social distancing rules. It's an unprecedented situation and everyone is scrambling to figure out the best approach. My brother was one of the first people who worked in our industry during the pandemic. He shot a movie in Iceland in the middle of the lockdown. The way they solved it is they split the crew into colour sections. So, hair and make-up had yellow armbands and the camera department had blue, and they had a “Corona appointee” on set who would call out, “Now blue go in!” and then “Blue, out! And yellow, in!” And then they would all do their job in turns. It was very military-like. Productions are already complicated, so we'll just have to add another layer.

LV:  How did you become an ambassador to the Clarks brand?

Alex:  To me, authenticity is very important. I don't want to endorse products I don't genuinely like. That's why I was excited when Clarks reached out. I've been wearing Desert Boots for 25 years. Also, I like to travel a lot. I like to explore new cities by foot. I want to be able to walk around comfortably in a classic, iconic shoe. I travel from movie set to movie set, and I often live out of a suitcase. And this teaches you to be frugal. Whatever fits in that suitcase, that's all I can bring.

LV:  Is that the Swede in you?

Alex:  Maybe. But we consume way too many things in this society. Also, you give things more meaning when you live with them, and when you go on adventures with them. Like, these are my boots. I've been places with them. And when they fall apart, I'll buy a new pair. If you have the right stuff to begin with, you don't need more.

LV:  Going back to The Northman, that really sounds like a dream project.

Alex:  It is. It will be a rollercoaster ride. I can't wait to get back to Northern Ireland and get back to the production. It's also a very physically demanding project, so I have been training for, well, since a few months before production stopped.

LV: In a way, getting into a role, getting on a movie set, acting through it, the whole process of making a movie is a bit like a little adventure. You have to prep, you have to travel, often with people you don't know, and you have to push boundaries.

Alex:  Absolutely! A huge part of the appeal of this profession is you get to travel, and you meet amazing, interesting people from all over. And the uncertainty, you know? What was it, 12 years ago, I was in New York, and I'd never heard of Generation Kill. And then two days later I was on a plane to the Kalahari Desert to be out there for seven months to shoot the series. And I'll never forget the feeling, sitting on that plane, thinking, “Two days ago I didn't even know about this project, and here I am on my way to Southern Africa to spend seven months in the desert with 200 strangers.” It's very exciting.

LV:  What a feeling that must be!

Alex:  And every single job is like that. Every movie is different. Your part, the tone, the energy, the people – it's always different. And for someone like myself, who has that kind of wanderlust, who's always looking on the horizon, it's very attractive to never know just what the next adventure might be.

October 14, 2020:  Updated with the full interview courtesy of our friends at the ASkarsLibrary (x).

Fashion credits:

Photographs by Johan Sandberg Styling by Martin Persson Grooming Karin Westerlund @ Lundlund Hair Amanda Lund @ Lundlund Stylist’s assistant Isabelle Larsson Digital Daniel Lindgren Production Madeleine Mårtensson and Olle Öman @ Lundlund

Read the full interview by Timothy Small and see the photo shoot by Johan Sandberg in the October issue of L'Uomo, on newsstands from September 22nd.

Sources/Thanks:  Interview:  Timothy Small for L’Uomo Vogue (x), Photos:  Johan Sandberg for L’Uomo Vogue (x), artlistparis.com (x) via artlistparisnewyork instagram (x),  luomovogue instagram (x) &  atomomanagement.com (x) via atomomanagement instagram (x), our caps from artlistparisnewyork’s September 23, 2020 insta story (x, x)

[masterjedilenawrites]

I’m not good at making requests, so forgive me if anything come out wrong.

But, could you do something were reader and Tech are fixing some eletronics and listening to cientific things, and start talking about a wrong thing people said there, so they get distracted and when realize, they’re in to a awkward position (like him btween her legs or sth like that)

I love your writing and thanks (: <3

Omg I've been so soft for Tech lately and this prompt is perfect 💚 I hope this is what you were looking for, I really enjoyed writing it!

Tech x reader | 2k words

...making bacta the most important scientific achievement in history...

"Dank farrik," Tech huffed beside you.

You came out of your daze at the sudden exclamation and looked at your friend with concern, trying to quickly figure out what had gone wrong. You were helping him with a project, though what it was exactly you weren't completely certain of. All you knew was it involved digging into the walls of the ship and untangling a lot of wires. You'd been instructed to hold onto several of them, keeping them pulled taught out of the wall so Tech could fiddle with the other ends, and the dullness of the task had caused your mind to wander.

"What's wrong?" you asked, doubtful you'd understand any explanation, but wanting to be sure you hadn't done anything to mess up his progress.

He waved a hand at you dismissively, not pulling his attention away from the work in front of him. "Just the radio," he mumbled.

You hadn't been paying attention; it had only been turned on as background noise to keep you from going insane with boredom. And since it was tuned into some kind of scientific news frequency, you didn't really understand much of what was being said anyway.

...with the most influential application simply being in the field of medicine, providing us higher life forms with a versatile tool in maintaining our quality of life, and potentially even prolonging it...

Tech huffed again. Scoffed. Your mouth quirked at how upset he was getting. It was kind of cute.

But, you had to debate whether engaging with his frustration would be worth it. He had only recently calmed down from his outburst earlier that day, the only time you had ever seen him genuinely upset. Wrecker had accidentally knocked over a piece of machinery that was... well, something very important, apparently. No one was too sure. But Tech had spent most of the week carefully arranging its parts just-so, so that when all his hard work went crashing onto the floor, his breathing had suddenly resembled that of a charging Nexu. He'd drawn himself up, trying to match his brother's height, and ordered the poor guy to never step foot in this part of the ship again. The other Batchers had tried to defend him and were subsequently banned as well.

That left you as the only option for help.

Maybe that meant he wouldn't kick you out for debating him....

"Sounds like they're saying some pretty reasonable things. Am I missing something?"

Tech's fingers, which had been deftly working through the wires before him, clipping some and splicing others, finally froze. The clone's face tilted over to you, his eyes looking a little too judgmental through those glasses for your liking.

"You think bacta is the most important scientific achievement?" he asked. You didn't like his tone, either.

You scrunched your mouth in thought, actually giving the question serious consideration. While you mulled it over, Tech stood up from his hunched position in the wall and started pulling on some of the wires, unraveling them from their tangled mess.

"Yeah," you finally decided. "I think medicine in general is pretty important. And bacta specifically is the strongest known substance to deliver fast and effective healing."

Tech was mostly focused on the wires, but he spared you a glance.

"And treating symptoms is the most important thing for humanity? Here, hold this." He added another wire for you to hold in your hands.

You knew it was a loaded question so you chose to answer it with one of your own. "Well if it's not bacta or medicine, then what would it be?"

"Electricity," he said quickly and assertively, as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. He continued to focus more on his work and you were annoyed he didn't seem to want to offer up an explanation to his opinion, despite having made you give one. He'd finally untangled the wires and was back to leaning into the cavern in the wall and setting them into their proper places.

"Why electricity?" You hated how dumb your question sounded; obviously you understood the concept and understood its importance. You just really wanted to challenge him to give you some explanations.

"For one, most medicines would not be able to be mass-produced were it not for the electrically-run vats in which they are made." He held his hand out behind him and made a grabbing motion. "Blue, please."

You sorted out the blue wire and passed it over.

"For another," he continued, his voice sounding distant as he leaned further away into the wall, "we must ask what constitutes a quote-unquote important achievement. For example, is an achievement worthy of the title simply because it improves our quality of life? Green, please."

You handed over the corresponding wire. "I'd say it's more about preserving life. Even outside of war, there's enough injury and illness that would end life were it not for medicine to heal them."

"Ah, but in that same reasoning, electricity also sustains life. It powers sources of light and warmth, which can also provide a means of boiling water and cooking food. All keys to survival. Yellow, please."

"So does fire," you shot back. "People survived long before electricity, and there's still plenty of civilizations living fine without it."

Tech finally emerged from the wall and took the last few wires from you, the red and black ones. He met your eyes with an earnestness that let you know how much he was enjoying this conversation. "And people have survived without medicine. At least the manufactured forms that you're arguing for, like bacta. Traditional medicine is as sufficient as fire."

Before you could respond, Tech moved to the side, motioning toward the wall with his head and holding up the remaining wires.

"Now, unfortunately these last ones need to be clipped in down below. I'm not able to fit through the lattice of the floor, but someone of your stature easily could."

You stepped forward and peered down. It was a mess of machinery and pipes and beams, but you could clearly see the port where the wires had been yanked out earlier. You knelt down, resting your stomach on the edge of the wall, but paused before bending over.

"If it wasn't for bacta, you wouldn't have been born." You were confident in your comeback and thus didn't linger for his reaction, turning to bend down into the ship with your wires instead.

You were disappointed to hear his soft chuckle from above you.

"And what do you think powers the bacta tanks that hold the clone embryos?"

You were glad he couldn't see the frustrated frown on your face. While you tried to think of a new point in your debate, you snapped the red wire into the proper port. But then you realized you couldn't quite reach the black one, and started carefully shimmying forward, deeper into the wall.

"It seems we have circled back to the initial question," Tech offered in your silence. You felt his hands hold on to your hips, steadying you as your legs lifted from the floor, most of your body now inside the ship. You didn't think anything of it, though, your focus split between your task and his words. "What makes an achievement the most important? Both medicine and electricity are capable of preserving life, but neither are essential to survival. So, what criteria are we left with?"

You were finally within reach of the last port and pushed the wire into it. "Sounds like you already have the right answer, so why don't you stop teasing me and just say it?" you called up to him.

"I...I didn't mean to sound like I was teasing."

You could hear the apology in his voice, how truly caught off guard he was to hear that you had perceived his attempts at a friendly debate, a conversation, as mocking or disrespectful. Your stomach knotted up in guilt, making your journey to wiggle back out of the wall a little more difficult.

"I'm sorry, Tech," you said through a grunt as you tried to push yourself back. "I didn't mean to sound rude. I just don't know the answer."

You felt his arms snake around your middle, pulling you the last of the way out. You came to rest on your knees, breathing heavily at the sudden increase in air supply. Tech was crouched alongside you, his chest against part of your back, his arms still holding you.

"I honestly don't know the answer, either," he blinked down at you, speaking quietly. "I don't know what criteria would constitute the most important scientific achievement. I thought maybe we could figure it out if we kept discussing it."

You craned your neck around to look at him, unconcerned about the discomfort it took to do so. You needed to face him fully. "Or... maybe we don't need to figure it out? I mean, does there need to be one achievement labeled more important than any other? Can they not all be valued equally?"

"I suppose..." he relented. But only a little. "It is a fun thought exercise, though."

You smiled at that, and it made your heart flutter a little to see him return the expression. There were a few seconds between you where you sat pleasantly in each other's arms... before the realization hit that you were in each other's arms.

"Uh," Tech stuttered first. His eyes looked about frantically as if the more he saw of you practically sitting in his lap, the more he would know what to do about it.

Your face was hot and your heart thumped forcefully in your chest. But you weren't panicking. Even though you'd been around the Bad Batch for a while now, this was the first time you'd gotten physically close to any of them, especially this dorky genius, who made you feel just a little better about life than the others did. You hadn't been sure why, not until this moment, your face being mere inches away from his own. Now it clicked.

His arms had removed themselves from your frame and he was starting to crawl backward on the floor. You quickly grasped his shoulder to stop him.

"Tech, wait."

He froze, looking at you with wide, apprehensive eyes. His shoulder was tense so you relaxed your grasp and simply let your hand rest on it gently. You gave him a small smile. Thankfully these little gestures were enough encouragement for him to lean back to you. He still looked at you timidly, but he wasn't pulling away anymore. It seemed like maybe he had been feeling the same things about you.

"Yes?"

He was waiting for you to make the next move.

"So, this project," you stalled, needing just a little more time to work up the courage. "What is it again? Why did I just crawl into the bowels of the ship?"

Your face was creeping closer to his, breath gently fanning across each other, warm but refreshing.

"I... I..." Tech seemed to be short-circuiting. "I was just, uh, re... redecorating."

Your nose had just brushed his when you suddenly frowned and moved back to look at him questioningly. "Redecorating... wires?"

You were very amused at how flustered he seemed to be in this situation. But then the tables turned as Tech rolled with it.

"Yeah, I didn't like the way they looked in there. Wanted to change things up. You know me."

The smile on our face spread as he talked and you couldn't hold back your laughter any longer. You bent forward, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck while your body convulsed with giggles. Tech laughed along, bringing his arms back around you to hold you in place. When you finally looked up at him and the shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face, you knew you'd finally found your courage.

"Oh, Tech..." you chided, pressing your smiling lips against his own.

[chialattea]

I know this ask is super old and this post is completely out of the blue but last night it appeared to me in a dream and now I’m obligated to answer it. Apologies for the science ramblings ahead! Also these are very broad strokes so if anyone goes “um akshually” I KNOW OKAY but we’re not going to go through the entire concept of immunology, lymphocytes and active vs passive immunity.

Basically the quickest response would be: it’d definitely taste bad, but nah it wouldn’t be poisonous, no you wouldn’t get drunk because the amount of alcohol in them is near negligible and unless it was a vaccine specifically designed to be taken orally it’d just get obliterated by the enzymes in your mouth or your gastric acid.

Now onto the kind of in-depth response,

While we call all of them vaccines, there are different types depending on the mechanism they use and what they actually contain. One of the oldest cases of quote unquote vaccination was recorded in ancient China, where people realized that if you made kids snort a powder made from the skin lesions of smallpox patients some of them tended to gain a resistance to it. The first recorded case of a mass immunization campaign happened in the Ottoman Empire; Lady Montagu, an aristocrat who served alongside her husband as a British ambassador in Constantinople in the 18th century, made friends amongst the local women. While visiting them she observed them do what she’d later describe as “engrafting”: the local women would use some sort of needle and use it to take some pus out of the smallpox lesions of a patient and scratch the skin of the child they were immunizing. That’d make the kid grow sick but with a way weaker variant of smallpox, and they’d then be safe from suffering the life-endangering version. They had to repeat the immunization every year, but given that smallpox would eat children alive in that century being scratched once a year wasn’t a bad trade-off.

So Lady Montagu, whose brother had died from smallpox, was like “hey this is insanely good” and eagerly inoculated her children. Then she went back to England and raved about the Ottoman medicine but the English medic community dismissed it as “folk healing” and “not based in science”. Lol. Lmao.

So, despite the huge controversy (a lot of people were Very against it), English people started getting inoculated— but since this was a vaccine where the virus was still alive it, you know, actually made people sick with smallpox and they could then infect other people or die from complications. Rare, but it did happen. So then Jenner perfected the smallpox vaccine, which was based on the same principle the Ottoman used, and a few centuries later we even have plant factories of this bad boys.

BUT I DIGRESS, let’s actually talk about the different kinds of vaccines and what’s actually in them:

The oldest kind of vaccines are inactivated vaccines (where the pathogen is dead so there’s no chance of you getting sick from it, but they give you a weaker immunity that has to be renovated every year, ie. Flu vaccines or rabies) or live-attenuated vaccines (you beat the shit out of the pathogen but it’s still technically alive, so you just get a weaker version of the disease at the benefit of a higher immunity, ie measles or chickenpox). They’re done by growing the pathogens in a culture medium (basically gelatin with stuff), then you disinfect them with antibiotics or an alcohol so there’s no chance they carry bacteria— IMPORTANT TO NOTE, the final product has NEAR UNTRACEABLE amounts of these substances, they’re purified in the process so no, that bullshit that you can get formaldehyde poisoning/aluminum poisoning from vaccines is bullshit! It’s like saying you shouldn’t eat bananas because they have radioactive components!!

The more recent types are based on genetical engineering (HELL YEAH). Most COVID vaccines used mRNA because it’s cheaper and faster, and since they don’t have the actual virus you don’t get sick. mRNA vaccines are FUCKING AMAZING. mRNA is like a list of instructions that cells use to build their proteins. By injecting the mRNA you make your own cells produce the protein the pathogen would use, then they kill it and go “oh okay I get it” and the second they meet a similar protein they’ll murder it on sight. mRNA however, is kind of an asshole— anyone who’s had to work with extracted mRNA will tell you that they love DYING. They’re HIGHLY volatile, and they’re waiting for any chance they get to go “ok I’m out” and by the time you’re running the sample you’re like “wait where the hell is my RNA” girl it shot itself in the head because you left it out of the icebox for 0.00034 seconds. mRNA vaccines are cool because they can be used for some types of cancer, too.

You can also use a subunit vaccine, where if the pathogen is a person you just. Take an arm then mail it to your body. Your immune system will go “wtf is this” and beat the shit out of it, and the next time they see an asshole with a similar arm they’ll kill them. This is what we use for HepB.

If the pathogen is known for producing a specific toxic molecule then, haha! Just give your body the isolated molecule and they’ll learn to focus on the toxin if the pathogen ever visits them! You need to renew your membership every certain amount of years because your body forgets.

So, in other words, if you were to drink a vaccine (that wasn’t an oral vaccine or the newly developing cases of vaccine food) then either: a) nothing happens, the molecules degrade in your mouthand nothing gets absorbed into the blood system b) somehow they reach the stomach and they get obliterated there c) somehow SOMEHOW they manage to get absorbed and pass onto the bloodstream, but it’s very likely they’ll be in rough shape or in insufficient amounts to do their job, so they’d be kinda inefficient. By injecting them you make sure 100% reaches the bloodstream, where they’ll be automatically ambushed by the lymphocytes. Oral vaccines have specific mechanisms so they get picked up by the mucosa, and even then they’re kinda ehhhhh.

And they’d either taste a bit sweet (because of the sugar) or like bland gelatin, or a bit musty. They won’t be great

Sources:

Langer, W.L. Sci. Am. 234, 112–117 (1976).

(Hey don’t judge me I doubt you want to read the collection of correspondence of this woman, but if you do Penguin Books actually published them and they’re very interesting!

Xu, S., Yang, K., Li, R., & Zhang, L. (2020). mRNA Vaccine Era-Mechanisms, Drug Platform and Clinical Prospection. International journal of molecular sciences, 21(18), 6582. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijms21186582

What would happen if someone drank the covid vaccine? What would it taste like. It is poisonous if ingested instead of injected. Could someone get drunk on covid vaccine. Would it have any vaccinating effect but probably not but would it

These are things I have wondered for years

im sorry im not a science person and ive been lucky to never rly have been very sick so i havent had lots of meds to drink except cough medecine so the first thing that came to mind was like . 90c alchol . which would come with a whole lot of problem on its own lol . also itd obviously need to be reworked so u could get "vaccinated" while ingesting it bc i dont think thats possible <3 idk <3 i havent had human sciences since i was 15 <3

[cathrrrine]

The Devil's In The Details

Originally from my AO3

SPN X MCU - Steve Rogers x Winchester!Reader

© Cover by Marveled.

Chapter 1 - Elevator Doors

“Well, I don’t think it works that way Tony.” You laughed, standing in front of the quinjet as you waited for the others to disembark.

“You owe me a favour, you know.” He scoffed playfully. “Maybe he’ll convince you.” His gaze shifted to a figure behind you.

“Who-“

“Mommy!” The little voice you recognised all too well surprised you. When you turned around to see the owner of the voice looking up to you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, you couldn’t help but reciprocate the act.

“Hey, bud!” You grinned, picking your little boy up from where he stood. You carried him on your hip, with your arms wrapped around him lovingly.

Tony smirked, patting you on the back in a friendly way and ruffling the little boy’s hair before he left to find Pepper, knowing you’ve forgotten all about your conversation with him earlier.

“Where’s your daddy?”

“He’s right here.” The man you loved walked just seconds after your son did. “Hey, mama.”

“Hey, Cap.” You leaned over to kiss him. You had just gotten home from a mission. It wasn’t unusual for you to be greeted by your small family almost immediately after you came back. It was the same for your boyfriend, Steve Rogers.

“How are you?” Steve asked, his blue eyes meeting yours.

“Fine. I’m unscratched if that’s what you’re asking. And the mission went well too.” You walked alongside him as you carried your son. The three of you made your way outside the hangar, Steve knowing you well enough to know you were on the hunt for some food.

“Did momma catch some bad guys today?” Your three year old son, James, asked. He wasn’t that exposed to what your job entailed, but you and Steve had give him a small idea of it. You figured he was too young to know that his parents were basically killers, so you resorted to telling him, quote and unquote, that you caught bad guys for a living. It wasn’t a lie, technically.

“Yes, my little pumpkin.” You kissed his nose. “Momma caught a lo-o-o-t of bad guys.” You said, dragging the word ‘lot’, which made him giggle.

Minutes later you were sat in the kitchen, munching on a cookie with a glass of iced tea in your hand as you watched Steve cook for you. He was more of the chef in your relationship, the last time you tried to make anything other than breakfast, it didn’t end so well. Ever since then, he made lunch and dinner while you handled breakfast. That is, whenever the both of you had time to sit down and eat together.

“There you go.” He set the plate down in front of you, a big goofy smile plastered across his face.

“Oh, Steve. This is why I love you.” You almost moaned at the sight of food in front of you, the delicious smell filling your nostrils and exciting your taste buds.

“Really? You love me for my cooking and not for my gorgeous blue eyes?” He mocked, “Or maybe my handsome face?”

“Nope. Just your cooking.” You said albeit a little distractedly as you chowed down on your meal.

“Damn. Not even my abs?”

“I guess I can make an exception.” You shrugged, playing along.

“Harsh. Did you hear that James? Your mom only loves daddy for my cooking.”

“But I love your cooking too daddy.” James looked to him innocently with wide eyes.

“Really?” Steve pretended to be shocked, putting a hand over his mouth. “Oh wow! Thank you James!“

It made both of them laugh, and your chest swelled with warmth and love just by looking at them. Not once have you taken this for granted, everyday you woke up praising whatever God that made it possible for you to live a life this great. Sure, it had it’s ups and downs, but with your family in front of you...everything in the world seemed right.

You would die for your son and for your boyfriend. Though the both of you had been living like a married couple, you weren’t actually one. You had the conversation with him, and he knew you weren’t ready for that kind of title yet. Even though it didn’t make sense, because you were committed to him and this life. You only had eyes for him and only him...but something about the word ‘marriage’ and ‘husband and wife’ opened up a pocket of fear inside of you.

But that didn’t matter, at least for now. The sound of Steve and James laughing and giggling like idiots brought you out of your thoughts.

Nothing could ruin how perfect this is right now, you thought.

But little did you know.

——

“Alright, let me hop in the shower and get changed into something less...nasty.” You said to Steve, motioning to your uniform catsuit.

“I wouldn’t say nasty is the right word for it.” He winked.

“Careful, Rogers. You could get me pregnant again with that look in the blink of an eye.”

“It’s not so bad. I wouldn’t mind another one, look at him, he’s so cute.” He cooed at the fast-asleep James.

“Don’t wake him up.” You whispered, reaching over to tuck the little boy’s hair out of his face.

The both of you were walking towards the elevator, with your son fast asleep in Steve’s arms. After you ate, you and Steve talked for a while as you loaded the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Apparently, his giggle fit with his dad was enough to tire him out. Your little boy fell asleep in his chair before he made it to his bed.

“Miss L/N.” FRIDAY’s voice echoed through the room. You weren’t so scared it would wake James up, he was used to the A.I. Plus, he was a heavy sleeper.

“Yes, FRIDAY?”

“There two young men here to see you.”

You shared a look with Steve, confusion painted all over your faces.

“Who is it?” You asked her, but it was too late. Before she could answer, the elevator doors opened right in front of you and revealed the two people you’d least expect to see today, or ever for that matter.

“Y/N, are those your...” Steve trailed off, watching you as you made wordless eye contact with your long lost brothers.

“Sam. Dean.”

“Y/N. We need to talk to you.”

[hurtrite]

the sound of the bedroom lock clicking into place did something to bodie. it felt symbolic in an odd way that he couldn't quite verbalize, head turned and gaze lingering, even when minnie's hand drew back from the doorknob. something shifted within him — settled, equal parts comforted by the barrier she'd remembered to utilize & resigned to his fate. there was no quick escape from this situation, but did he really want one? it shouldn't have been possible, how insanely wracked with guilt he felt, and yet he still wanted more of minnie. wanted to make good on his promises, wanted to do every filthy thing she requested of him ( and then some ). as terrifying of a revelation as it was to now know that she knew he was behind that faceless account messaging her nightly, it was the thrill that kept him rooted to the spot. had him watching attentively as her nimble fingers undid the singular knot holding her quote-unquote bikini top in place, his lips parting in silent awe as the fabric scraps fluttered to the ground seconds later. fuck, she was so perfect. she was the perfect woman, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect fuckdoll. standing there and staring at her bare chest in real time, in real life, it hit bodie : he was jealous of jason. that spark of such an ugly emotion had his guilt intensifying, gaze quickly dropping lower, instead following the path of minnie's wandering hand to stare at her hip. it was a much safer spot to train his eyes while she fiddled with the stringy ties there, except that a part of him was watching and waiting for her panties to drop next, too. it wasn't until she reeled him in closer by his twisted up t-shirt that he was pulled from his silent stupor. "minnie. . ." bodie exhaled, each syllable sounding like it was pure torture to even be dragged out of his mouth. he blinked back to meet her imploring gaze, eyebrows folding together. "i - we can't do this. we shouldn't be doing this," he whispered, though his grip was loosening, letting the ruined shirt drop to the floor at their feet. maybe this was the only moment they'd have together — the only chance he'd ever get to have any small part of her in a non-cyberspace setting, and very abruptly, bodie didn't want to let this opportunity go to waste. "do you. . . do you want me to touch you?" he asked, gaze intense. that was something he'd agonized over often during their chats. it'd been easy to talk himself down from any serious attachments to minnie, writing-off her kindness and interest as a byproduct of her trying to milk more money from him - an assumed stranger online. she sent him private videos only because she had to, it was her job! and if she'd known it was him all along, her boyfriend's perverted younger brother describing how he'd wanted to finger her in public after a family outing? there was no way she would've been so willing and reciprocal. except — perhaps she had been the whole time. that exhilarating thrill rushed through bodie again, his tongue trailing along his lower lip as he dared to sway closer. an innocent hand found minnie's hip, digits twitching and nervous despite how courageous he was attempting to be. his other hand raised higher to cup her breast, eliciting a quick inhale from him, not allowing his gaze to waver from hers, even as he ducked his head. even as his lips began to part, mouth open and tongue out, lavishing her nipple before his lips sealed around the perky little bud to suck.

it was hard not to laugh the minute all hell breaks loose in that precious, perverted mind of his, minnie just leaning there against his dresser, watching as he tried desperately to wipe himself clean of her, and then strip his shirt off before wringing it in his hands, trying—and failing—to conceal what she knew to be an erection under his pants. this elicited, of course, raised brows from minnie who took the opportunity to trace the lines of his figure with her gaze. would she ever get sick of this? this power that she wielded, especially over bodie. it didn't even take long for him to start initiating conversations, with minnie often waking up in the middle of the night to see he'd been thinking of her again, getting himself off to the thought of her. she could picture him, cock swollen in his hands, precum wasted because it wasn't on her tongue or rubbed against her clit as if she needed any more lubrication than his words provided. so how could she not respond, how could she not egg him on, when he seemed to be the only man in the world who knew how to turn her on? she filled his mind with all the things she'd do to him, the things she'd let him do to her. ride him endlessly until he was filling her to the brim, each thrust sending his old cum gushing out and onto his lap. bending her over in the kitchen where anyone can walk in and see him stake his claim in her tight little cunt. christ. she seemed to have a never-ending list of fantasies she wanted to do with him, and this was not making it any shorter. chatting with her other subscribers often left her bored, poker faced as she sent in oh yeah, baby? and i want you to cum all over my tits between bites of microwaved leftovers throughout the day. but with bodie, she dropped everything to give him all her focus. stayed stock-still wherever she was, cunt aching and throbbing painfully and needing immediate relief. and each time she filmed it for him, showed him just how aroused he made her, taking her toys to the hilt and grinding down onto its rubbery base, wishing desperately that it was him. and then just right before their vacation, her toys stopped being enough. she'd make herself cum to the thought of him, send off the video, and then sit there feeling restless, wanting more, needing more. so she'd conducted a plan. a vague one, at least, but one that would help her test the waters. see how receptive he might be to turning those sinful fantasies into a reality, jason be damned. "is that what we're doing?" she says, gesturing to his shirt in his hands, completely disregarding his apology. there was no need to be sorry, not when he was giving her everything she wanted and more. a lazy hand stretches out to lock the door, and then slowly, tentatively, eyes watching for his every reaction, she pulls on the knot of her bra behind her neck and watches the nylon fall to the floor, revealing her perky breasts and pink nipples standing in attention. "you next," she says, already fingering the side of her panties where she'd tied the straps into ribbons. with her other hand, she reaches for his shirt, uses it to pull him closer so she can whisper, "do you like it better online or in real life? just wondering."

[pufflocks]

S.I.F = Aran Ojiro x POC!M!Reader

Walking & Volleyball

》☆《

Summary: believe Aran, when in a relationship, would have separation anxiety. He hates when his partner is not with him when needed are wanted. It's not like he would break down or anything, but he likes it when your close. Same building as him, same radiance etc. So I will be showing that a bit. Enjoy. 💛

Warning: Tooth rot fluff • The Miya twins • proof read

Cast: POC!M!Reader x Aran Ojiro

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Bag ? Check. Phone ? Check. Boyfriend ? Fuck.

"Aran ! Come on, you gonna make us late to practice." You shouted. Your boyfriend was currently trying to look his best, quote unquote, to finally establish your guys' relationship to the team.

While you on the other hand was more excited to finally go back outside since you stayed in on the weekend. His anxiety was a little bad since he had no parents home and was quite frankly bored.

Footsteps could be heard as he marched down the stairs with his phone and bag in each hand.

You looked closer to see a smudge under his eye. "What ? Something on my face ?" He asked. Totally put on your eyeliner, but no time for Q and A.

"Let's go. I'm not trying to be late, AGAIN." That said as you both made your way to school, which you would usually be early if a certain slow ass didn't sleep in. No more stay ins with Aran Ojiro, you thought.

Finally making it 15 minutes later you both were greeted by the Miya twins. Aran left to go put his things away after dapping up Osamu. Hecwould ask you to come with him, but pushed the urge down.

Meanwhile, Atsumu was busy on your head about how you guys were usually early.

"We could have been, but dude wanted to be slow this morning. If we were later, I would easily dump him." You wouldn't as you picked out your hair. { if you have an afro via, your hair out. }

Atsumu doubled over laughing boisterously as his voice echoed. Wait.

Dump ? Atsumu thought.

Two of his bestfriends were dating ? When did this shit happen, he thought again.

"Dump ? You two dating ??" Osamu added in eyeing you down. Not even gonna front, he was kinda let down Aran got to even be that close with you first. But all in all he was majority shocked.

You hummed in agreement to his question as you walked yourself out of the situation to the lockers. It wasn't like you meant to snitch on yourself obviously. But you knew one of them was gonna say something to one of the other team members.

"Almost done. You should get changed too, bae." Aran said, tying his shoelaces.

"The twins know now." You said. You snatched off your shirt pulling on your Jersey over your toned skin.

"'Aight. If they be quiet and don't judge, then I don't care for real." He shrugged giving you a quick kiss on your bicep. His lips are soft, you thought.

"That's what I was thinking. And I know they won't 'cuz I saw Osamu fapping it to a p star, the other day before the weekend." Aran's eyes nearly popped out of his eye sockets as you let out a loud laugh.

"Nah, say sike. He did it in the lockers ?" He asked and you nodded trying to contain your next canned laughter.

You both were giggling like idiots until you heard the whistle blow from the coach. Both of you quickly made work to the door nearly leeping over the other to not be late, again.

After telling the team you both were dating many snarky remarks came from Atsumu, his brother shutting him up.

Kita simply giving you both a thumbs up. Saying you both were still welcome and noth would change on the team.

Suna looked out of it as usual, but he could care less if the only two black guys on the team were dating. { That's how I would picture it and I'm laughing, and no he not racist. 💀 }

Aside from the minimal judgement and tardiness, you went home with an engraved smile on your face. Holding the hand of your profound lover as he swung your hand while on the phone.

The sun setting making both of your skin tones look absolutely perfect and elegant. "Today was nice." You sighed. He squeezed your hand in silent response. Don't think he didn't catch your toothy smile from the corner of his eye, because he did.

"Glad it was alright. I'm feeling good myself." He hummed. The only thing that would suddenly sadden you both was him dropping you off. You weren't far from eachother, but it was a sad routine.

"We can sleep on the phone, bae, stop looking sad." You quietly chuckled squeezing his hand harder than he did.

But that's not what he wanted. "But-"

Before he could finish you stopped and wrapped your arms around his neck. Looking deep in his dark black-ish brown eyes.

Just standing there. Standing there in silence as the sun set. Standing there breathing the cool air around you both. Feeling content with each natural sound.

"We will see each other tomorrow. Trust me. We have been for a long while now." You kissed his forehead as he settled into your touch.

He was such a big baby. No, not even a baby. More like an anxious child with-

"We can get over your separation anxiety together. But now I'm tired. Drop me off and I'll call when I'm in bed."

He nodded and sighed in defeat.

The sun finally set. A dark blue covering the sky.

He dropped you off, trying not to cling too long hugging your upper torso like a lifeline.

Later, like promised, you dialed him and slept on the phone while you almost instantly heard light deep snores on the other end. After speaking about nothing for half an hour of course and how you noticed he wore eyeliner. He has the worst defense to that situation.

Nothing new. . .

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired chapter 10

Chapter 9

After a quick diaper clothes change, Arella was quick to join the brothers at the table, Cyrus tucked comfortably in the crook if her arm. It felt like a normal morning, albeit just a tad quieter. Whether that be due to the events of the night prior or just in consideration of the baby, it wasn’t quite so clear. She took her usual seat next to the place where Mammon usually sat and began to eat. The only one who looked even a little uneasy was Levi likely due to how he felt about having been the one to suggest last night’s movie.

They all spoke casually amongst themselves as they ate, multiple of them having to stop Beelzebub from consuming the food that had been set aside for Mammon as the demon in question joined them shortly after. It had taken him a while to find clean clothes, realizing he really should do his laundry soon. It had probably been a good two or three weeks at least since he’d washed anything. With everything going on, he just didn’t have the energy lately. Thank the celestial realm for his human helping him out with his school clothes.

All their heads turned to him as he joined them at the table, a round of ‘good mornings’ rang out and he returned them. Two asked how he was feeling after last night, the rest carried on with their own side conversation figuring he didn’t need to answer the question four times over.

As breakfast came to a close, Arella took her leave to feed Cyrus once more and Mammon returned to his room to gather up his dirty clothes and begin the process of doing his laundry. Thankfully, it was the weekend which would give him enough time to have all five of his school uniforms ready to go while also not hogging the washer and dryer all day.

“Man, I gotta start doin’ my laundry more often...” The Avatar of Greed sighs. “The amount of clothes in here is ridiculous.” He hefts the basket of clothes into a more comfortable position in his arms and carries them down to the laundry room.

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“Mammon, do you want to go shopping with me?” The Avatar of Lust chirps as he catches up to his brother while he’s working on switching his clothes from the washer to the dryer, “I need a new outfit for date night tomorrow and I’m sure you could use a shopping spree too considering you haven’t really gone out to spend or visited the casino lately. Even last night, when the three of us took the baby out, you didn’t even buy anything. You know what happens if you let your sin build up.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just gimme a couple hours to get a couple more loads done. I’m kinda runnin’ outta clothes to wear.”

“Alright, three hours good?”

“Three hours is perfect.” The white haired demon says as he loaded another round of clothes into the washer. “Thanks, Asmo.”

The strawberry-blonde demon only nodded as he headed off.

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“Hey, Mams... Can we talk for a minute?” Levi asks as he approaches his brother.

“Yeah, I got a few minutes before I go out with Asmo. What’s up?”

It takes Levi a few minutes to speak. “I’m really sorry about last night. I should have screened before we watched it.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Ya said you had never seen it before and wanted to watch it with all of us, right? And you were so excited ‘bout it, so it’s fine.” he shrugs.

“But it wasn’t fair to you...” The Avatar of Envy frowns. “We shouldn’t have even watched a horror movie to begin with. I know you hate them but you still watch them with us anyway.”

“’Cuz I know you all like them so I jus’ bare with it for the time being. Y’all are my brothers, so I just want y’all to have fun even if I suffer for a bit. Y’know what you always say about me, I’m a masochist through and through.” He smiles, hoping to make his little brother feel better. “I don’t blame ya, so don’t blame yourself, ‘kay?”

The third-born only nodded, feeling minimally better after finding out the second-born didn’t blame him for what happened.

He ruffled Levi’s hair as he flashed him a smile. “Alright, I gotta go, love ya.”

“Love you too,”

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As the pair of demons walked down the street, Mammon was distracted. He was lost in thought as he thought back to the conversation he had with Arella. He thought about telling Asmo as even though Arella had told him she was comfortable with everything they had done together but he felt like she was telling him a half-truth just to spare his feelings.

“Are you alright, Mammon? You’re not as talkative as usual... Mammon?”

“Huh?” blue to gold gradient eyes look to his brother. “Yeah, I guess I’m alright. Just thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’...”

“Care to share?”

Mammon considers this for a few moments, deciding maybe he should tell his brother about what’s on his mind. “You can’t tell a soul about what I’m going to say, ‘kay?”

“No promises,” The demon says in a sing-song voice, “You have some good gossip?”

“It’s not gossip, Asmo. You absolutely have to promise you won’t tell anybody.”

Asmo’s eyes widened at his brother’s words and the serious tone in his voice. “Alright, what’s on your mind?”

“Arella told me something last night... She told me she was...” He’s not sure he can say it but thankfully Asmodeus seems to get the message.

“That’s horrible. How did it happen?”

“A quote unquote boyfriend drugged her drink when she was sixteen.” The demon has an irritated look on his face. “The bastard was twenty three, like who seeks out a teenager like that?”

“Boyfriend?” The Avatar of Lust has a disgusted look on his face. “Sounds more like a predator to me.”

“Right?! It makes my skin crawl just thinkin’ about it.” He exhales, “She’s such a good person and some monster takes advantage of her and does that?! If I could get a name and a face, I’d absolutely destroy him. The worst part? She blames herself for what happened, for making a mistake.”

“I’m not surprised,” Asmo frowned. “Considering how the human world treats women- she may very well have been told it was all her fault- especially as a minor? I don’t know what her family was like but to end up with that mindset, it’s very possible she didn’t have anybody to for her what we’re doing for you.”

Mammon only frowned at that. “Yeah and now I feel bad for pushing so hard. She said she wanted all that but I feel like she was only sayin’ that just to make me feel better. Is that wrong of me?”

“Mmm, I don’t think so... You love her so it’s only natural that you would worry about having forced her into a situation she didn’t want. But I also don’t think she would lie to you just to make you feel better. Can you remember a time where she’s ever been disingenuous with you?”

“No...”

“Then I think you should take her words at face value. In all actuality, I think she only told you because she wanted you to know you weren’t alone and she knows what you’re going through.” Asmo smiles as he pats Mammon’s shoulder. “And if you’re still worried about it, think of it this way: As long as you had a resounding ‘yes’ at all times from her, then you shouldn’t worry about whether or not you forced her to do it. Or you could do the adult thing and actually talk about your feelings as scary as that may be.”

Mammon only rolled his eyes at Asmo’s comments.

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The pair got home later than intended. As they split up, the Avatar of Greed made his way up to his room. Everything seemed to be fine, there was no baby crying and the house seemed at peace until he got to his room. He tossed his bag into the closet and slid down the railing on his staircase. That’s when he heard it, a small sniffling sound.

“Treasure?” He called softly as he approached the bed, placing a hand on the ball of blankets that his human had buried herself under. “Hey, look at me.”

A soft ‘no’ was heard from under the blanket followed by a ‘I’m alright, don’t worry’ which had the opposite effect on him. So, he just made himself comfortable beside his mate, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close so her back was pressed to his chest. When she was ready to talk, he would listen and if the baby monitor went off, he would do all the work tonight. It was the least he could do since she practically took care of their son on her own around the clock when he couldn’t even look at the child for the first few weeks.

He rubbed his thumb over her stomach in a motion that was meant to be comforting. While not exactly what he wanted to do, their position didn’t grant him much elsewhere to rub if he wanted to keep his arm wrapped around her, he hoped it would have the same effect. They just lay together in silence for a time as her sniffles slowly came to a stop. She was so quiet, Mammon thought she might’ve fallen asleep until she moved her head from under the covers and slowly turned to him, allowing him to move his hand to her side.

“Wanna talk about it?” The demon asked as she shook her head in response. She cried regularly for others but she wasn’t much for crying when it came to herself and when she did, it was often over nightmares she wouldn’t tell him about. “When you’re ready, I’ll listen. I don’t like to see you so upset and not be able to do anything to help you, Baby.” It was an offer he hoped she would finally take him up on. She only let out a sigh as she moved closer to him and he reached up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“I’m sorry I was so selfish last night...” She catches his hand in hers and just holds it to her cheek. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No...?” The Avatar of Greed wracks his memory from last night, trying to think of anytime she could have been selfish. “When were you selfish?”

“When I told you I had been assaulted...” Her response only leaves Mammon more confused. He hardly considered that to be selfish at all. She was only trying to reassure him everything he was going through was normal.

“How was that selfish?”

“I made the situation all about me when it should have been about you. I’m sorry.”

“No you didn’t? ‘Rella, Baby, you get to talk about your feelings and things that have happened to you too, y’know. Everything’s not always about me. Actually, it was kinda validating to know you understand what I’m going through.”

“No, I don’t. I just want to help but I always bring things back to me some way or another. My problems aren’t important. They’re not a big deal. I’m just attention-seeking and being selfish a-and-- mmph!”

He couldn’t take listening to his human, his treasure, bring herself down like that anymore, choosing to silence her with a kiss instead. When he pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together as he looked into her eyes, glossy from her earlier tears.

“Do you know what an amazin’ person ya are?” he asks as he rolls them so he’s leaning over her, “You get to talk about these things. Your problems matter. You're not bein’ selfish or attention-seeking when you talk about them. Hell, for somebody whose primary sin is greed, you’re probably the most selfless person that I know. You are patient ‘n kind ‘n giving. You do way more than anybody asks of ya. You give so much love and don’t ask for anything in return for it. I don’t know who the fuck put those thoughts in your head but ain’t none of ‘em true, got it?”

“It.... It was my mother....”

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