#what made me get so attached to my guardian and make a character out for her and her ghost. cuz before D2 cerys and pepin didnt even have

[wolfwarrior142]

I'm slowly playing through the Final Shape campaign. And it has me over here almost crying and getting all emotional. Cuz the message it's giving, of Ghosts being there for their Guardians all the time, whatever it takes, because they're "made of the same stuff," and all that...that's always the bond I've envisioned for my guardian Cerys-8 and her ghost Pepin.

Yeah I bet most players who created characters for their guardians feel that way, but the way they're wording it here speaks SO much to how I feel that Pepin cares for Cerys. She deals with a lot of mental health issues after the loss of her awoken hunter friend, Arjun, to Taken. She has been slightly suicidal in the past as a result of it. She's done stuff that has worried Pepin. And that just made him dig deeper into being someone who Cerys can rely on, her last line of defense. Because he brought her into this life as a guardian without any choice from her. So he is going to try his best to help her heal and keep going. He knew that from the start, and felt it even more after she declined.

Pepin had Cerys name him because he didn't have a name before and he didn't care to give one to himself. So Cerys picked Pepin, because it sounded like a play on saying that he was peppy. Happy. Cheerful. Bringing light to dark moments. He isn't an overly cheery and emotional ghost, but he always tries his best to find the positive in a situation. Or at least, make the dark not seem so strong. Cerys saw that from the start, which made him feel even stronger about being a protector for his Guardian when it comes to her internal struggles. He wants to be there for her, almost like a parents or an older sibling she can go to in her times of need, especially after she lost Arjun. And then during the Red War. And after losing Cayde- and so on. Cerys struggled to accept his caring at first, but as she healed, she realized just how much she actually appreciated it. How glad she is to have Pepin as her ghost and closest friend in the world.

I've felt that about them for years. So. Needless to say. This dialogue in the game about the ghosts caring so much about their guardians and their struggles- more than I remember it being talked about ever before- is making me kinda emotional.

[theredalice]

Wall-artist2 posted a poll and it inspired me to make a longer post about it. Its a long post. And I love the heros journey. I'm so sorry if it sounds arrogant- this is my interpretation of the game and how it applies the heros journey in the context of the poll

Mouthwashing is told from Jimmy and Curly's perspective.

A protagonist is defined as the main character. They are the driving force of the plot and the reason why this story is being told. This would mean that Jimmy and Curly are the protagonists.

Now, what are their goals?

Jimmys goal is to evade responsibility. To protect his peace. To do what he wants with little consequence to himself.

Curly's goal is plainly stated in the game, "I want to make my life one im not trying to fucking run from all the time."

The force that hinders the protagonists is considered the antagonist. The opposition, the one that gets in the way.

Because of this, I feel I can very plainly say that Anya is the antagonist in Jimmys story.

This is NOT to say she is the bad guy, this is to say that she is the one who hinders Jimmy through his story. She is the true outside conflict of the protagonist. She is the one that makes him stop in his tracks, makes him face his actions. If even he doesn't recognize it and actively ignores it, she is the one who annoys and fucks with his plans the most.

For Curly, I'd say that Jimmy (and maybe Pony Express) is the antagonist. He's in the process of foreging his life out of the hellfires of Capitalism. Of course, this is a struggle caused by PE, but Jimmy is the one who ends up physically stopping him from his goal (I.E completely disabling him). He cannot create a life when he's stuck in space and entirely reliant on Jimmy.

Jimmy is the one who gives him meds though the game. They quickly run out of bandages post-crash, so his only means of physical omfort is the painkillers.

Writing this, im thinking about the birthday party. Curly expresses his need for a better life, and Jimmy explodes. "WE'RE the ones you're trying to run from."

Jimmy feels abandoned before anything has happened. His company dumping him isnt such a big deal, but his best friend?

What he's really saying is, "I'm the one you're trying to run from."

Which brings me to "wouldn't Curly be Jimmy's antagonist?" And I see your point. But I feel that Jimmy has attachment and abandonment issues. Curlys been with him for a long time. He's the only consistency in this world. Is Curly leaves, what would that make Jimmy?

Alone. Abandoned. Trash. Useless worthless man.

I feel Jimmy is too obsessed with Curly and his image to see him as opposition. I see it more as a Curly is Jimmy's favorite person and is constantly splitting in him.

Curly is never the one who stops Jimmy. Curly didnt stop him going into the cockpit. Curly wasn't the cause of Jimmys muder-suicide.

Curly paved the way for Jimmy. Curly carved the path Jimmy walks on. Anya was Jims catalyst for action.

"What about Daisuke and Swansea?"

Diasuke is faded in the background when it comes to their stories. He doesn't play a substantial role in stopping or progressing either goals. He's more of a Herold. He let's Jimmy know that Anya is locked in medical and that is the message that propells the second half of the game (the message in the first half being the notice from PE)

Swansea is a threshold guardian. TGs are the force that hinders the protagonists path but for a milestone in the story. Sometimes they can be overarching and defend different thresholds, but Swansea is just a TG when he is guarding Utility. Possibly when they are running in the crypt, but for this post I'll focus on the in-reality part.

Swansea isnt seen through the game as an obstacle until Anya is locked in medical. He, like Daisuke, are background characters. Until he stands in the way of the only way into medical, then he is an obstacle and must be removed. Daisuke doesn't do much except be a tool in Jimmy plan.

Anyways this too long, hope it all made sense!

[ryin-silverfish]

disjointed LMK S5 reactions from a Chinese sub + dub watcher:

-the animation looks somewhat better than the trailer suggests.

-the worldbuilding, however, is...confusing.

-don't get me wrong, the emotional and character beats still hit right, but...the more I try to make sense of the worldbuilding, the less sense it makes.

(at least my fears about the Ten Kings conspiracy didn't come true, the 9 non-traitor kings are still pathetic pushovers that got [spoilered] by [spoilered].)

-welp, I will attempt to do so anyways. Spoilers under cut:

-In the beginning, someone or something made the Pillar of Creation to ward the world from Chaos.

-Which isn't how Chaos works in the Chinese cosmology, btw, but LMK is mostly its own vaguely JTTW-inspired fantasy setting at this point, so I'll try to keep the mythos-nitpicking to a minimum.

-Then some guy cracked the pillar (in the mythos, that would be Gonggong, but S5 does not mention a single name), and Nvwa had to make the Five-colored Stone + sacrifice herself to fix it.

-The "sacrifice" here is mostly her/her soul getting stuck inside the pillar for eternity, though, since MK still got to talk to her once he entered it.

-Each Five-colored Stone is attached to a Divine Guardian, who also serve as the stone's container, so to speak. They seem to remain outside of the pillar as anchors of reality.

-These guardians are the Divine Beasts of the Four Directions + JE himself, which is why Azure killing JE has such detrimental effects on reality.

-For every Five-colored Stone removed from its container, said container is destroyed, the cracks in reality widen, and the end of the "Cycle" draws near.

-Apart from the Five-colored Stone, Nvwa also created the Harbinger...at some point, and placed it inside SWK's stone, presumably after he has already hatched from it (based on Subodhi's words in S4 that MK is born from the same stone, after SWK).

-This Harbinger is supposed to sleep inside forever, awakening only at the end of the "Cycle" so that he can sacrifice himself to maintain the pillar, keep the encroaching Chaos at bay, and maybe give the world a soft reboot in the process or sth.

-Enter: the Nine-headed Demon, king of monologues and convoluted metaphors, a descendent of Xiangliu——another nine-headed serpentine monster from the Chinese mythos (said to be a subordinate of Gonggong in the Books of Mountains and Seas, who was slew by Yu the Great.)

-My attempt to make sense of his metaphor: basically, he used to live happily inside this Chaos-free bubble too (dark cave), alongside people who have never seen outside of it before, until he walked outside, dived into Chaos (sunlight), and went "Hey, it isn't all that bad! No, it's awesome!"

-Unsurprisingly, when he returned to the world inside the bubble and tried to convince his pals to take the Chaos bath together with him, he got rejected by everyone and turned edgy.

-He impersonated the Tenth King of the Underworld, King of the Turning Wheel, and proceeded to awaken the Harbinger prematurely.

-Supposedly, it's because he wanted the Harbinger to have experienced life for himself in the fullest, instead of waking up only to walk like a lamb to the slaughter.

-But his motivation is pretty confusing, tbh, and hearing Pigsy calling him out for never shutting the fuck up is funny as hell.

(Despite that? I kinda like his personality.)

-What MK did at the end of S5 is...well, the way I see it, he is still using the Five-Colored Stone as reality anchors, but instead of infusing their powers into a single mega-strong container, able to withstand the massive strain, every living being become a container, holding reality in place through quantity rather than quality.

-However, the anti-Chaos barrier does seem to have weakened; before Nine-head escaped into the "Chaos Outside" once and for all like he always wanted, he said that MK had opened the "Pandora's Box", so to speak.

-My completely arbitary theory: the anti-Chaos barrier before is like a giant roof, held up by 5 pillars. Take out 1 pillar, and the whole thing is guaranteed to come crashing down, sooner or later.

-The new one is like a net, with each individual functioning as its individual threads. It can do its job——holding reality together, but also leaves a lot of little holes for the Chaos Outside to slip in and out.

[yanderes-galore]

I absolutely love ratchet so may I request yandere ratchet with a human prompt 53

I love Ratchet too :) I'd love to give you a small story about him and a human! I assumed you meant my prompts.

You gave no specific Ratchet so I just did his Prime appearance.

Note: I've been doing a lot of late night writing so I apologize if this is unorganized. This is essentially me being half asleep and indulging in my favorite character. It's content purely from the heart I guess, lol. I tried to keep up the plot so I hope it came out... coherent :)

Yandere! TFP! Ratchet Prompt 53

"I left you a few voice mails, why didn't you pick up?"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Paranoia, Overprotective behavior, Cybertronian/Human pair, Manipulation, Implied kidnapping, Dubious relationship, Deception.

Ratchet didn't used to like humans at first. He was already having to deal with three kids causing trouble in the base. When he met you, a young adult human, he wasn't sure what to think.

Turns out... you were tolerable. You genuinely wished to help out and keep the kids in line. Although even they seemed to be a handful for you.

Ratchet was still a bot who was hard to get along with at first due to his stubborn behavior. Despite this... Ratchet had begun to soften towards you over time. He began not to dislike humans all that much with time.

Honestly, it was you and the kids who helped him change his outlook.

When it came to you and Ratchet, you two could be considered partners. While Bulkhead had Miko, Bumblebee had Raf, and Arcee had Jack... Ratchet had you. Ratchet didn't think he'd ever have a human companion, he didn't even think he'd be attached...

Then he found you.

Ratchet had grown close to you because you provided companionship for him at the base. While the others were on a mission and he was meant to prepare Ground Bridges, you sat by his desk. You didn't talk unless he talked first when you were still getting to know each other.

Yet, soon Ratchet began looking forward to hearing your voice and seeing your small organic form. You just... provided him a sense of comfort. Your presence only ever proved useful when Ratchet began to stress himself out over the others.

A comment that was often tossed around was you being his emotional support. When Optimus wasn't around, Ratchet had you. You could say Ratchet cared for you at the very least.

Your companionship was different from the others. While when it came to the kids their respective Autobots acted like guardians... you and Ratchet were different. Your connection was beyond that of a guardian.

Sure, Ratchet was always protective, but it seemed like it was for different reasons. You never really knew how deep his attachment to you went yet it always felt different. You always seemed to ease him when you were around.

It wasn't hard to theorize what Ratchet really felt towards you. His softness around you felt intimate despite the differences between your species. It's some form of love, even if Ratchet never admits it.

This explanation felt the most plausible. It explained why Ratchet felt a yearning to connect with you more. Although such a feat only managed to frustrate him at times...

Your biological/biomechanical differences make it hard for him to display affection. He can only ever do small things. He can hold you, take you on drives, call you, talk to you, and he loves it but...

Intimacy, the thing he craves, is what upsets him at times when he looks at you.

Normally the thought might have repulsed him. The thought of hugging you or showing affection in the more romantic sense towards a human should be seen as foreign. Yet he wants it with you.

Such feelings are what's made Ratchet become more attached to you than a guardian. Based on how you act so positively around him, even when he picks you up... part of him hopes you feel the same. Surely... you won't mind being in a relationship with an old Cybertronian like him, would you?

He promises to himself he'll find a way to make an avatar to communicate with you with in the future.

The issue is, these feelings can also be seen as a weakness. Ratchet often grows distressed when you are away from him for too long. Yes, humans have their own lives to attend to...

He just wishes you'd spend more of your time at the base?

Ratchet didn't often talk about his problems, yet with you he felt it was important to voice his concerns. As a result you had given him a way to contact you when you're in your home. A phone number... one he often contacted.

He really didn't need the childish teasing, Primus he could hear it now. 'Ratchet's got a crush on a human'. He rolls his optics just thinking about it.

Yes, he loves you...yet it's normal. It has to be. He hasn't had a partner in a long time, if at all. Maybe he... wants to try something like that with you.

For now, Ratchet tried to focus on your safety. When he can find a way he'll share his romantic feelings with you. When he can properly convey them....

Gaining a way to talk to you made Ratchet relax a bit more. It gave him comfort whenever you texted him or gave him a call. Some say you can see Ratchet's mood change when you were on the phone. He physically relaxes his stance at the thought of you being safe and sound.

Optimus notices this change in his friend and his thought is he's happy for Ratchet. His friend has managed to find solace in a human like the others. Even if it's in a different way.

Being able to contact you is a double edged sword with Ratchet. While he's calmer with hearing your voice or seeing your texts, he appears snappy if he hasn't heard from you. Ratchet is never far from a way to contact you.

It's obsessive.

Ratchet would look distant when you don't respond right away, often looking at the screen with a frown. He hated being away from you at times. But you're busy with your own life and he is busy with his.

You'd soon learn not picking up when Ratchet calls is a mistake. Take a nap or go to work and Ratchet gets anxious. He expects you to pick up.

It would be so much easier if you were just right next to him...

He hopes he can do that some day once he perfects his hologram avatar technology.

---

"I left you a few voice mails, why didn't you pick up?"

Ratchet's gruff voice echoes through your phone. You had been away from your phone for a few hours and came back to voice mails of worried Ratchet. You originally thought it funny that he never wanted to be away from you for long, now it was concerning.

"I was busy, Ratchet..."

"Busy, huh? You're supposed to have your phone on you."

"What did I even miss? You know I have to have my own life here, right?"

Ratchet's silent on the phone, most likely grumbling to himself.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I have reasons to worry, however."

"Decepticons?"

"Yes. I don't know what I'd do if they got their hands on you."

"Nothing's going to happen, Ratchet!"

"You don't KNOW that...."

There's silence on the phone again before Ratchet speaks again. You swore you heard him sigh deeply.

"I want you back at the base."

"Why?"

"Security reasons. Decepticons in the area."

Something about his voice sounds off. His response is curt, almost rehearsed. You push it aside, thinking he's just irritated.

"Really? Alright...."

"Don't worry too much, I'd never let them touch you. I'm picking you up. Wait there, okay?"

"Ratchet, You never usually leave the base that often. Shouldn't you send one of the oth-"

"They're busy. I'd prefer it if... I brought you here, is that okay with you?"

"Sure, Ratchet. Be careful."

Ratchet says nothing, but your words affected him greatly. He appreciated the fact you cared for him like he cared for you. He hangs up on you and you cautiously wait for him. Decepticons in the area?

Were you really in that much danger?

---

It felt wrong to lie to you about a Decepticon threat. Yet Ratchet reassured himself that it could happen at any point in time. Just calling you wasn't enough.

As Ratchet drove back to the base with you in the front seat, he thought deeply about what he was doing. How long could he lie before he told you how he really felt? How long until you realize there's no real threat at this time.

Like a Decepticon, Ratchet had lied to you to get what he wants.

It felt dirty. Despite this, Ratchet could only think about you in his front seat. He could tell you were concerned.

He hoped you could forgive him for this. At the base you provide him such comfort. No one else could make him feel such a way. If he kept you there... he wouldn't have to worry. He could think about himself just this time, yeah?

Hopefully his little project would be done soon and he could convince you to stay. He could make you your own little area in the base and interact with you with a little avatar. In his eyes, you'd be a much happier human with his care.

He had his reasons and ways to have you understand him. You can't fully blame him when you learn the truth, could you? Decepticons were a threat, even if they weren't right at this tick.

This was the best way to care for you. He loves you... this would be beneficial to the both of you. You'll be safe and he'll have you.

While it may feel wrong to betray your trust now, it would yield results in the future. Ratchet stops once he rolls into the base and lets you out. After he transforms, Ratchet picks you up in his hands.

He can't hide the grin on his face when he looks at you.

You may not know it yet, but he knows you'll be so much happier beside him rather than alone.

"I'll make sure the Decepticons don't harm a hair on your head... you can relax, I'm here now."

[k9punkout]

sharing my thoughts on this image cuz it's eating away at me

so this is what (im pretty sure) the text above them says and implies

luka: breathing test- makes sense due to the respirator he has. acing a test on breathing is really funny to me, but as much as i'd like to leave it at that i think luka canonically has asthma. the aliens were probably tweaking with that/torturing him via his respiratory problems. he clearly gave them the response they wanted, considering he earned such a high grade. sobbing.

hyuna: superiority test- im still so interested about this one. while idk exactly what happened, it should be noted that hyuna's guardian, phan, is considered to be one of the highest class/most superior intergalactic lifeforms. maybe they only accept pet humans of the utmost best quality? also, we never see hyun-woo's scores/tests. it might be because he isn't a main character like hyuna is, but what if it implies that he fell short of phan's expectations? maybe that's why they didn't care enough to revive him after he died. that might've been a driving factor for why hyuna hates the segyein so much. hmmmm (im reaching)

ivan: smile test- considering the equipment, it's pretty obvious what went down here. i think this further confirms my theory on ivan being forced into masking his emotions with a smile, rather than just doing it to fit in. help him :((

sua: hearing ability(?)- i don't think we've been told anything about sua having TROUBLE hearing, but the aliens could've tweaked with her ears so she can hear her own music better and therefore perfect it? idk.

mizi: vision- i remember there was this old livestream where vivimeng said that there's technology in the alnst universe to fix mizi's vision problems, so this must be it. judging by the bandages, it seems to be some sort of surgery. it explains why she doesn't need her glasses anymore.

till: it just says "be obedient"-bandages are covering his ENTIRE face. whatever skin that's showing seems to be covered in bruises. it's very vague about what happened to him but i just know it's terrible. someone get him OUT OF THERE

im also wondering whether or not this is like. directly after these tests

it would make sense with luka, hyuna, and ivan, but sua doesn't seem to have anything attached to her ears, mizi's not only completely blindfolded here, but she's also being made to dance while her grade in the previous image is labeled "vision", and till looks much more docile than usual here (plus he's widely regarded as a musical genius so i doubt he'd get a low grade on instrument practice)

then again sua's hearing operation could've been performed after this (maybe a test on how hearing affects a human's voice?)

and mizi's dance test could've been right after her eye operation while the image of her grade could've been taken after one of her eyes healed.

as for till, he could've gotten that C simply because he played an entirely different song than what was assigned to him (which is in character, but i dont think it warrants that extreme of a beating or whatever it was they did to his face).

alternatively, he seems to have a tendency to act more tame before pulling a wild stunt (he was uncharacteristically obedient before killing freddie in r2, and his aggression at the karaoke scene was after a long period with little to no resistance), so he might've tried something violent halfway through the test.

moral of the story, no one's happy

[ciaossu-imagines]

Idk if you ever had this quesrion but---

The vongola guardians and any additional characters you want : ... How do they grief? After a small thing that happened, like loosing a precious item, then maybe something more upsetting like breaking up after a long time of being with someone up to actually losing a person to death. How do they cope? How do they handle life from then on out?

You dont have to answer but i thought this might be interesting to ponder

I don’t think I’ve ever had this question! It’s a little surprising, because it is such a really interesting, thought-provoking request! Thank you so much for sending it in and I hope I’ve done such an intriguing concept justice in my answers, that everything feels organic to the characters, and most importantly, that you lovelies all enjoy the headcanons 😊 Because this ended up being so long, I do need to make it into separate posts for Tumblr to allow me to post it, so the question will be answered along multiple days. And honestly, since this took me nearly four hours to answer and edit, I kind of like being able to get multiple queued posts for it, sorry!

Tsuna

Tsuna is someone who is actually a little prone to grief. His emotions tend to run deep, he gets attached to things and people pretty easily, and it hits him hard when things end, get lost, or stop being the same. While he knows change can be a positive thing, sees how change has helped his life be better, major changes will affect him emotionally quite badly, especially if that change is one that he did not want.

He’s not always the best at figuring out how to handle his emotions, even the positive ones, and that is something that is even harder for him to do when the emotions become larger and more profound. He struggles to wrap his head around feelings of grief and loss, what to do with those emotions, or how to properly move on from them. He finds it hard to start properly grieving. He doesn’t really know how to. He doesn’t let it be instinctual – he gets caught up in feeling like he should be grieving in this or that way and because of this, he often finds that his grief lasts longer, or that he feels like he’s got over something that made him grieve, only to find himself taking steps backwards and getting caught up in the grief again. He can sometimes take the view that grief is something that has all these properly laid-out steps and actions that you need to progress through to get completely cured of that grief, instead of something that is very personal and individual.

Now, Tsuna is someone who will definitely feel grief over small things. He does place sentimental value on objects. He’s someone who really does treasure things that were given to him by the people in his life. We see this in the charm from Kyoko that Tsuna gets really anxious about misplacing in canon. I think it’s this way for a lot of things – the first real birthday gift that Lambo and I-Pin got him with their allowance money or his favourite hoodie, the one his mother went out of her way to buy, even though it was stupidly expensive, just because he’d mentioned how badly he wanted it. I have always had this headcanon that Tsuna also collects pictures of him and the other Guardians and his other friends through the years and that those mean the world to him. He’ll cherish his first apartment.

When Tsuna loses one of those sentimental objects, he gets really upset about it. He gets anxious, unhappy, and he tends to immediately feel a lot of guilt about it. He defaults to blaming himself for whatever happened to those objects – he didn’t take good enough care of it obviously, it’s his fault for losing it, he really is no good. He takes losing something that was given to him really hard and he’ll drive himself a little crazy looking for it. He feels so bad about losing that thing and he fully expects whoever gave it to him to get really upset at him for misplacing it if he cannot find it. He is just that angry and upset at himself, after all.

An avid gamer, someone who loves reading manga, and someone who really gets into the tv shows he loves, Tsuna forms connections with fictional characters pretty easily. When his favourite characters die, he definitely gets sad and upset about it. He won’t cry about these little moments of grief, but he’ll feel crummy about it for several days. He’ll vent about it to friends and he’ll be upset. He might even stop watching the show or playing the game, feeling that everything’s been ruined about it now that it’s made him feel that emotional reaction.

For small things that make him grieve, like growing out of a favourite piece of clothing, leaving his house for the first time to live on his own or for moving on from his first adult apartment, the moments will be very bittersweet. On one hand, he knows that all life chapters have to end and that there are still many beautiful things to come, but at the same time, he finds himself quite sad. He finds himself remembering every single good moment spent in that thing or that place and he does get glassy eyed. He really relies on his friends and loved ones at these times to keep him positive and excited about the things to come, because without that, he could find himself wallowing in those sad moments instead of embracing the future.

Things that hit harder, that are more serious grief-inducing moments, hit Tsuna hard. To use the example of a break-up, Tsuna is really going to feel miserable. He’s really sad about everything and he definitely does cry about it, when he’s alone or at least thinks he is. He doesn’t want anyone else to catch him crying like a baby because of something like that, but at the same time, he can’t keep himself from needing that cry. Everything just feels bad and hopeless and like it will never be happy again.

A running theme, I think Tsuna’s first instinct, in the face of this kind of grief, is again to blame himself for whatever caused that grief. Even if it logically doesn’t make sense, even if others assure him that it wasn’t his fault, he still blames himself. He feels this distinct amount of guilt and pain about it. He makes himself shoulder all the blame for the situation, convinces himself that all the pain he’s feeling is because he failed in some way. He just wasn’t good enough to stop this from happening. There must have been something he did or something he didn’t do that caused this.

It isn’t a feeling that will just go away. There isn’t going to be a day when Tsuna just wakes up and has an epiphany that, no, this wasn’t my fault. I did everything I could. This person leaving me was on them and not on me. That’s not something that will happen to him. That grief will always be there in his brain, and he will always blame himself for the situation that caused the grief. It’s just that, with time, Tsuna will be able to push that grief and blame out of focus. He’ll be able to start coping with it, in his own way, and he’ll start being able to tune it out a little. He’ll go back to being able to live his life, though he won’t live it ever quite the same again. His life, his choices, his attitudes on things will change, even if they change by such a small degree that it’s barely noticeable to anyone besides Tsuna and those who know him best. He’ll learn to not think about the grief as much, with it really only popping up every now and then, when he’ll feel those emotions again just as strong as the day it happened. When he does feel those emotions, over and over again, he becomes better at pushing them away though instead of focusing them, with each time that wound is reopened.

Surprise, surprise, but that habit of blaming himself for situations that make him grief is also very much carried over to the large moments of grief. Those around him dying and leaving him behind makes him not only unbearably sad, but those moments fill him with so much anxiety, guilt, and regret that it’s almost unbearable. By the time those moments start happening, Tsuna has already been trained on how to continue on in his duties, despite the overwhelming waves of emotions that are washing over him, and he does his best for those left behind with him. Honestly, if it wasn’t for that act of needing to be there for those others left behind, if it wasn’t for needing to be strong for them, Tsuna would probably crumble a little in the wake of that amount of grief. He kind of does appreciate having them there, appreciate having something to concentrate on besides his grief, at moments. At other times, he feels burdened by them, though he would never admit it out loud, and feels resentful for not being able to have the choice to wall himself off from everyone and just let the grief run its course.

Someone he loves dying…it’s his fault, obviously. It’s because he either wasn’t strong enough to save them or because he exposed them to danger because of the life he was forced into. In the case of the person dying in a way that could not conceivably be his fault, such as dying from old age, it’s still his fault. It’s his fault he hadn’t expressed more how much he loved and cared about them. It’s his fault he didn’t thank them more for all the things they did for him. It’s his fault for not making every single second they were alive count – how many hours did he waste, for example, he would think when Iemitsu died, hating or being resentful towards his father? How long did he hold out on having any kind of relationship with his father? How many years were wasted in bitterness and hurt feelings instead of letting his father connect with him? There’s all these regrets, all these ‘what-ifs’ in the face of grief and they all feel like they’re about to drown Tsuna in their heaviness.

Much like with the smaller grieving, it’s not so much that Tsuna will come to grips with these thoughts. It’s not that he’ll forgive himself, not entirely. It’s more that, with time and with life continuing to go on, with the expectations on him to keep soldiering on, he learns to live without that person’s presence in his life. He learns to keep going. He learns to find happy moments again that aren’t overshadowed by thoughts of the person. He learns to tuck that person into his heart and his mind. He learns how to come out of the grief still intact, though changed forever by his regrets and sadness. There will be days, months, years he can go without thinking of them, but he’ll still have days, even years after that person’s death, where something will trigger that latent grief he hangs onto inside, and he’ll find himself needing to hide away and cry all over again.

[anna-the-undertaker]

Shadows of Divinity

Here is chapter four Summary: Summoned unexpectedly to the Devildom, Nephilia—an imposing figure with an ethereal grace—finds herself navigating a world of demons, secrets, and hidden truths. Towering above those around her, Nephilia’s presence commands attention, but it’s the sense of something more, something ancient, that truly unsettles those she encounters. With no knowledge of her own mysterious origins, Nephilia must uncover the secrets of her family's lineage while contending with the intrigue and suspicion that follow her every step. As the Brothers, the Royals, and the angels attempt to unravel the enigma that is Nephilia, they are drawn into a web of forgotten history and divine legacy that could reshape the very fabric of the Devildom. Note: I know that Mammons' stance towards Nephilia is different than how it is in game towards MC, but I did that for a reason. From my own observations of his character, he would be quick to become attached and/or protective of anyone who would willingly defend him or show him even the smallest amount of kindness.

Chapter Three

Chapter Four: The Morning After

The morning of the Devildom filtered through the grand windows of the House of Lamentation, casting long shadows across the walls of the dining room. The air was filled with the quiet clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation as the brothers gathered for breakfast. However, the usual routine was broken by an undercurrent of amusement, a mischievous energy that crackled in the air.

Asmodeus leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he tried—and failed—to stifle his laughter. “I mean, really, how can you not laugh after what happened?” he said, his voice tinged with a sing-song mockery. “We’re talking about Mammon here, and yet a human was able to play him like a fiddle!”

Satan, who had been quietly sipping his tea, glanced up and shook his head slightly, a warning in his gaze. “Keep your voice down, Asmo. If Mammon hears you, he’ll get upset, and we won’t hear the end of it.”

Asmo waved a hand dismissively, not at all concerned. “Oh, please. Mammon isn’t even up yet. He’s not exactly a morning demon, after all.” He let out a light, almost musical laugh. “But come on, it’s too funny! Our dear Avatar of Greed, swindled by a human.”

Satan couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him, despite himself. But Asmo, ever perceptive, caught it and turned his amused gaze on him. “Oh, so you think it’s funny too, huh, Satan?”

Before Satan could respond, a calm yet firm voice interrupted their conversation.

“I didn’t play him.”

Both demons turned to see Nephilia standing in the doorway, her presence commanding and resolute. The room seemed to still as she walked in, her gaze level and unwavering as she approached the table. There was no anger in her tone, only a quiet strength that made it clear she wasn’t here to be dismissed.

Nephilia’s eyes met Asmo’s, her expression serene but unyielding. “It was a mutual decision,” she continued, her voice measured. “Mammon and I agreed to the pact because it would make it easier for him to fulfill his duties as my guardian. I never forced or tricked him into anything. The idea was mentioned, and he made his choice. He could have easily said no.”

Asmodeus blinked, his playful smirk faltering slightly as he realized she was serious. Before he could respond, Nephilia’s gaze sharpened, and she fixed him with a look that cut through the room like a blade.

“And Asmo,” she added, her tone calm but edged with subtle reproach, “even though it sounds like you’re praising me for my so-called cunning, I can see the ridicule in your eyes. For all your complexities, you’re quite easy to read.”

The smile faded from Asmo’s face, replaced by a hint of surprise. He wasn’t used to being called out so directly, especially by someone so new to their world. He opened his mouth to retort but found himself hesitating, unsure of how to respond to her unflinching honesty.

Satan watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He had to admit, Nephilia’s ability to hold her ground against Asmo was impressive. The Avatar of Lust was rarely ever on the receiving end of such a pointed confrontation, and seeing him momentarily at a loss for words was a sight to behold.

Asmo, recovering quickly, forced a light laugh. “Oh, darling, you’re so serious! I was only teasing. But I do apologize if I came off as anything but complimentary.” He flashed her one of his trademark charming smiles, though there was a flicker of something more cautious in his eyes now. “No hard feelings?”

Nephilia’s expression softened slightly, but she remained steadfast. “None. Just remember that words carry weight, even if they’re meant in jest.”

As Nephilia took her seat at the table, Levi, who had been quietly observing the exchange, couldn’t resist chiming in with a self-satisfied grin. “All I know is that I finally got Mammon to cough up what he owed me. Honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome—this was an epic win for Leviathan!”

Nephilia turned her calm yet discerning gaze toward Levi, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Levi. Don’t forget you were the one who came to me for help in the first place.”

Levi’s grin faltered, but before he could respond, Nephilia continued, her tone firm but gentle. “And for the record, the pact had nothing to do with Mammon returning your money. In the future, you might want to consider that gentleness, understanding, and respect are often all it takes to get what you want from others.”

Satan, intrigued, leaned forward slightly. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Nephilia met his gaze, her expression contemplative. “All I had to do was ask Mammon to return what he owed, and he did. I simply explained to him that if you want something, in this case his credit card, you often have to give something in return. By offering something first, you open yourself up to the opportunity to gain more later.”

Asmodeus, who had been listening with growing skepticism, let out a disbelieving laugh. “You expect me to believe that Mammon just handed over the money because you asked nicely? That’s not how he operates, darling. I’d bet anything you used the pact to make him do it.”

Nephilia sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at Asmo. “I didn’t use the pact, Asmo. I haven’t known Mammon for long, but I’ve already noticed how you all treat him. With people like him, forcing them to act or stripping them of their choices only makes them more resistant. If you want him to cooperate willingly, you have to show a little patience.”

Satan nodded thoughtfully, processing her insight, while Asmo’s expression faltered.

Nephilia continued, her voice measured and assured. “Yes, part of it is on Mammon for not putting in the effort to change. But understanding is the first step in helping him choose to do so. It’s not about making him do something—it’s about giving him the space and respect to decide for himself. The way you all treat him doesn’t encourage him to do better; if anything, you’re pushing him deeper into his sin.”

Just as the conversation began to settle, the door to the dining room swung open, and Mammon entered the room. His usual swagger was on full display, but there was a subtle tension in the air as he walked in. The brothers turned to look at him, their earlier conversation still fresh in their minds. Nephilia’s gaze, however, lingered a bit longer on him, her instincts telling her something had shifted.

Mammon’s eyes flickered briefly toward her, just for a moment, before he quickly averted his gaze. That fleeting glance was all Nephilia needed to know—he had heard everything she said. His expression remained neutral, and his behavior gave no indication that he cared about the conversation that had taken place in his absence. But Nephilia noticed the difference, subtle though it was. The usual defensive edge in his posture was absent, replaced by something almost imperceptible—a slight relaxation in his shoulders, a softness in his gaze that hadn’t been there before.

Mammon moved to his usual seat, grumbling about how early it was and how he couldn’t get a moment’s peace even in his own home. His voice held the familiar irritation, but it lacked the sharpness that usually accompanied his words. He spoke and acted as he always did when interacting with his brothers, tossing out his usual complaints and jabs, but she saw past the surface.

There was a subtle change in the way he carried himself, as though a weight he’d been knowingly bearing had been lifted, if only slightly. He seemed more at ease, more comfortable in his skin than she had seen him before. It wasn’t a dramatic shift, but it was enough for her to notice.

As Mammon continued to bicker with his brothers, Nephilia couldn’t help but feel a sense of quiet satisfaction. She had hoped her words would make a difference, even if only a small one. And though Mammon might never admit it, not even to himself, she knew he had heard her. More importantly, he had understood her. For now, that was enough.

The conversation had almost lulled into a comfortable silence when Asmo, ever the provocateur, leaned back in his chair with a sly smile. “You know,” he began, his voice carrying a teasing lilt, “with how things are going, the rest of us might just find ourselves in a pact with Nephilia as well if we’re not careful.” He turned his gaze toward Nephilia, his eyes glinting with mischief. “So, tell me, darling, if you had your choice, which one of us would you pick next?”

Nephilia met his gaze calmly, feigning deep thought for a moment as she tapped a finger against her chin. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a subtle hint of amusement in her eyes. “Hmm… Since you brought it up, why not you, Asmo?” she replied with a slight smirk. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were hinting that you wanted a pact with me.”

Asmo chuckled, the sound light and musical, as he leaned forward with a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, I’m not surprised you’d want me all to yourself. After all, humans can’t help themselves when confronted with someone as beautiful and alluring as me, can they?” He winked, basking in his own charm. “But just because I understand the doesn’t mean you actually have a chance with me. I’m not the least bit interested in forming a pact.”

He punctuated his statement with a soft, almost pitying laugh, before adding, “You won’t be able to tame the rest of us as easily as you did with poor Mammon. In fact, it’s rather offensive that you think we’re as simple-minded as that poor excuse for a demon—”

SMACK!

The sound echoed through the dining room, cutting Asmo off mid-sentence. Mammon, having risen from his seat without a word, delivered a sharp smack to the back of Asmo’s head.

Asmodeus yelped in surprise, his hand flying to the spot where he’d been struck. “Ow! What the hell, Mammon? You actually hit my beautiful head? I can’t believe it! Not even Lucifer has ever done that!”

Mammon scowled, standing over him with a look of irritation. “Yeah, well, you deserved it! That’s what ya get for callin’ me a poor excuse for a demon!”

Asmo rubbed the back of his head, pouting dramatically. “You’re always so violent with me, Mammon. I don’t get it. Why must you always resort to physicality?”

“Because you’re always runnin’ ya mouth!” Mammon shot back, crossing his arms. “And I oughta hit the rest of ya for always makin’ fun of me!”

The other brothers watched the scene unfold with varying degrees of amusement, though none of them intervened. Nephilia, unable to suppress a chuckle, leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “Asmo, I think it’s cute that you believe just because you’re the embodiment of Lust that I’m even remotely interested in you,” she said, her voice laced with teasing sarcasm. “But you’re not my type.”

Asmo’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to formulate a response. It was rare for him to be left speechless, but Nephilia’s cool and direct dismissal had done just that. He stared at her, blinking rapidly, as if trying to process the fact that someone had just turned him down.

The others chuckled at the exchange, even Satan couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Meanwhile, Mammon’s expression softened ever so slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he glanced at Nephilia with glee.

Asmo, still flustered, finally managed to sputter, “W-well, I suppose not everyone has good taste…”

Nephilia simply shrugged, unbothered. “To each their own.”

Mammon snorted, clearly enjoying Asmo’s rare moment of discomfort. “Guess not everyone’s fallin’ for that pretty face of yours, huh, Asmo?”

Asmo huffed, crossing his arms in a huff. “You’re all so mean to me…”

As the breakfast chatter continued, the atmosphere shifted once more when the door creaked open, and Lucifer entered the room. His presence was always commanding, and today was no different. For once, he had decided to join them for breakfast, a rare occurrence that immediately quieted the room. His gaze swept over the table, lingering on Nephilia with a curious gleam in his eyes.

"I've heard about what happened yesterday," Lucifer began, his tone measured but carrying an edge of amusement. "That you managed to outfox a certain dimwit of a demon and forge a pact with him."

Mammon's head snapped up, eyes wide with indignation. "Hey, who're you callin' a dimwit?!"

Lucifer didn't so much as glance at his younger brother, completely ignoring Mammon's outburst as he continued, his focus solely on Nephilia. "Your opponent may have been... less than sharp," he said, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. "But even so, you've only just arrived here. It's quite an accomplishment to manage a feat like that in such a short time."

He offered her a nod of approval. "Congratulations, Nephilia. I believe Lord Diavolo will be pleased as well. We continue to expect big things from you."

Nephilia met Lucifer's gaze steadily, refusing to be swayed by the praise. There was no smugness in her expression, only a calm and quiet certainty. "With all due respect, Lucifer, it seems everyone has assumed that Mammon had no say in the matter, that I somehow ensnared him. But the truth is, he could have said no if he wished to. He made his choice freely, and it’s time you all start recognizing that."

The room fell silent, the tension thick in the air as Nephilia's words hung there, unchallenged. Mammon, who had been ready to bristle at any further insults, suddenly found himself staring at her in wide-eyed astonishment. No one ever talked to Lucifer like that, not even the other brothers—and certainly not a human. Yet here was Nephilia, calmly admonishing the eldest brother as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Lucifer’s sharp gaze flickered with a mix of surprise and something more unreadable. But before he could respond, Mammon’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "All right, that’s enough!" he blurted out, his voice louder than intended. He reached for Nephilia’s arm, grabbing her with a gentle but insistent grip. "C’mon, Neph, it’s time to get goin’."

Without waiting for a reply, Mammon practically dragged her out of the dining room, his face still tinged with a blush as he led her away. The brothers watched in stunned silence as the pair left, each of them processing what had just happened.

Once they were out of earshot, Mammon finally let go of her arm, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "You, uh… you didn’t have to do that, ya know," he mumbled, not quite meeting her eyes. "But… thanks. For stickin’ up for me, I guess."

Nephilia smiled down at him softly, her voice gentle. "You’re welcome, Mammon. But I meant what I said—everyone deserves to have their choices respected. Even you."

As they made their way through the shadowed halls of RAD, Mammon seemed to have slipped into an easy rhythm with Nephilia. The initial tension that had existed between them had melted away, replaced by a natural camaraderie. Mammon no longer appeared intimidated by her height or presence; instead, he treated her like he would any of his friends, with a casual familiarity that made their conversations flow effortlessly. Since the events at breakfast and the previous night, Mammon had stopped calling her “human” and had started calling her by the nickname “Neph.” It made her smile every time she heard it, a subtle sign of the growing bond between them.

It was surprisingly easy to talk to the second-born. His laid-back demeanor and easygoing nature were comforting, allowing her to relax in his presence. For once, she felt somewhat normal—just two people walking to class, ignoring the curious stares and hushed whispers from the other demons they passed.

Mammon, as usual, had spiraled into another one of his rants about his elder brother. His hands waved animatedly in the air as he vented his frustrations. “Seriously, what’s with that guy? He can’t go a single minute without bringin’ up Diavolo! It’s always ‘Diavolo this, Diavolo that!’” He threw his hands up in exasperation, his voice rising in mock imitation of Lucifer. “‘Oh, Diavolo says this,’ ‘Diavolo wants that.’ Ugh, it’s like he’s got some sorta Diavolo obsession! I swear, if Diavolo told him to go jump off a cliff to his death, he’d probably do it without even thinkin’ twice!”

Mammon’s voice dripped with disbelief as he added, “Knowin’ him, he probably would, too. Geez…”

Nephilia chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “Lucifer really gets under your skin, huh?”

Mammon huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as they turned a corner, heading toward their classes. “Yeah, you could say that. He’s always actin’ like he’s so high and mighty, like he knows better than the rest of us. But it ain’t just that—it’s like he’s always tryin’ to control every little thing! He treats us like we’re in diapers or somethin’. I mean, I get that he’s the oldest and all, but come on!”

Nephilia nodded thoughtfully, sensing the deeper layers of Mammon’s frustration. “It must be exhausting, always having to live up to his expectations.”

Mammon glanced at her, his usual bravado softening slightly. “Yeah… it is. But it’s more than that. It’s like no matter what I do, it’s never good enough for him. And the worst part is, even if I screw up, he’s the one who gets all bent outta shape about it. I can handle my own problems, but he acts like it’s his job to fix everything, ya know?”

Nephilia could hear the underlying resentment in his voice, the years of feeling overshadowed by his older brother. “Maybe that’s just his way of showing he cares,” she suggested gently. “Even if it’s misguided.”

Mammon scoffed, but there was a hint of something else in his expression—maybe a glimmer of acknowledgment. “Yeah, well, he’s got a real funny way of showin’ it. And what about me, huh? When do I get to do things my way? When do I get to prove I’m more than just the ‘Avatar of Greed’ or ‘Lucifer’s problem child’?”

“You’re more than that, Mammon,” Nephilia said, her voice firm with conviction. “And it’s not just about proving it to him. You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone—just be yourself.”

Mammon looked up at her for a long moment, as if weighing her words. Then he flashed her a grin, one that was a little less cocky and a little more genuine. “Ya know, Neph, you’re all right. For a human, that is.”

Nephilia rolled her eyes playfully. “Thanks, I think?”

He laughed, the sound echoing down the corridor. “Nah, I mean it. You’re different, in a good way. I guess I’m lucky I got stuck babysittin’ ya.”

“Lucky, huh? I’ll remember you said that,” Nephilia teased, causing him to laugh even more.

Nephilia’s chest still rumbled with laughter as she parted ways with Mammon, her mind replaying the ridiculous story he had just told her about Leviathan’s obsession with an idol. As she entered her classroom, her amusement quickly faded when she came face to face with Diavolo himself, standing tall and regal as he conversed with Barbatos. The prince’s presence was always commanding, but today, the air seemed charged with even more intensity.

Lucifer was also there, standing with his usual poise, his sharp gaze surveying the room as if he were assessing every detail. As Nephilia approached, she couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

Barbatos, ever composed, was the first to speak, his voice tinged with mild exasperation. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it, Lord Diavolo? When we make an important announcement, the demons hardly seem to care. Yet, when it comes to gossip, they devour every word. Just when I thought the uproar about the new exchange student had subsided, they are now in a frenzy over this rumor about her pact with Mammon.”

Diavolo’s laugh was warm and genuine, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. “I think it’s a good thing, Barbatos. The more they talk, the more eyes will be on her. It will make it difficult for any demon to target her soul unnoticed.”

Lucifer nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. “Indeed. And despite my reservations, it seems Mammon is actually doing his job well. He’s quite taken with her already.”

Diavolo’s gaze shifted to the doorway, his eyes lighting up when he noticed Nephilia standing there. He greeted her with a broad smile, his tone welcoming. “Ah, Nephilia! Good morning. Congratulations on successfully forging your first pact.”

Nephilia returned his smile, though it was more reserved. She had no desire to explain the situation again, especially given the misunderstanding surrounding it. However, Lucifer spoke up before she could even open her mouth. “To be clear,” he said smoothly, “Nephilia didn’t force Mammon into the pact. He agreed to it of his own accord.”

Barbatos inclined his head slightly. “I see. Well, this certainly stands as proof that you chose well by bringing Nephilia here, Lord Diavolo.”

The butler then turned his attention to Lucifer, his eyes glinting with subtle amusement. “As for your brother, Lucifer, in the human world, there is a saying: a truly wise man does not flaunt his talents. Instead, he keeps them secret.”

Lucifer let out a weary sigh, his eyes narrowing slightly. “An incompetent fool, however, doesn’t actually have any talents to flaunt.”

Before Barbatos could respond, Nephilia interjected, her voice calm but firm. “Even an incompetent fool can still learn, if given the chance to prove himself.”

The room fell into a brief silence as her words hung in the air. Diavolo’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before they crinkled with genuine delight. Lucifer raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by her boldness once again. Barbatos, ever stoic, observed her with a newfound respect, though a hint of curiosity flickered behind his eyes.

Diavolo was the first to break the silence, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ve also heard it said that the most thick-headed child is always the cutest.”

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated. “...Stop it, Diavolo. It’s troublesome enough having him as my younger brother. But my child? Him? I don’t even want to think about it.”

As the laughter from Diavolo's teasing faded, another voice cut through the air, smooth and warm, like honeyed wine. "I couldn’t help but notice, Lucifer, that you didn’t deny the ‘cute’ part."

Nephilia turned toward the source of the voice, curious to see who had joined the conversation. Standing at the entrance of the room was a man whose presence was nothing short of radiant. His dark, curly hair framed a face that was both gentle and striking, with eyes that gleamed with a calm, almost ethereal light. He carried himself with an air of quiet confidence, his posture relaxed yet poised. The serene smile on his lips exuded a warmth that instantly put her at ease.

There was something undeniably captivating about him, a presence that was both comforting and reassuring. Unlike the demonic energy that seemed to hum in the air around the others, this newcomer’s aura was pure, soothing, and filled with an underlying strength that spoke of unwavering conviction. He seemed to bring a sense of peace into the room, as though his very being could calm even the most tumultuous storm.

Nephilia’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, taking in his immaculate appearance. The flowing white and gold robes he wore were elegant, almost regal, and they contrasted beautifully with the midnight tones of the Devildom’s architecture. His demeanor was effortlessly graceful, a stark contrast to the sharpness that often accompanied Lucifer or the flamboyance of Asmo. Here stood someone who was as gentle as he was formidable—an angel, she realized.

The angel smiled slightly, eyes glinting with playful mischief. "Might I offer my own opinion?" he began, his voice smooth and serene. "Out of you seven brothers, Lucifer, you’re without a doubt the most troublesome."

Lucifer turned his head slowly to regard him, an eyebrow arching with thinly veiled irritation. "Is that meant to be a compliment, Simeon?" he asked, his tone cool and slightly dangerous.

Before Simeon could reply, a new voice cut through the air, high-pitched and indignant. "Of course not! Duh! That was a put-down! An insult! He’s taunting you!"

Nephilia blinked, momentarily confused as she glanced around the room for the source of the voice. When she saw no one at the normal eye level, her gaze dropped, and her eyes finally landed on a small figure standing near Simeon. The contrast was almost startling.

The voice belonged to a young boy, probably no older than eleven or twelve, with golden hair that shimmered like sunlight and wide, innocent blue eyes that were filled with a mixture of defiance and frustration. He was dressed in a white robe similar to Simeon’s, but the look was far less regal and more akin to that of an apprentice. His cherubic face and small stature made him seem almost out of place among the taller, more imposing figures in the room.

Nephilia’s first thought was that he looked utterly harmless—innocent, even. But the fire in his eyes, the way he glared up at Lucifer with such fierce determination, told her that this little one had plenty of spirit. There was something undeniably endearing about him, and it was clear that he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, despite his size.

Lucifer, however, looked less than impressed. With a scoff, he remarked dryly, "Ah, I see you’ve brought your chihuahua along with you, Simeon."

The boy’s face flushed red with anger, his small hands balling into fists at his sides. "I am NOT a chihuahua! How many times do I have to tell you that, demon?!"

Lucifer chuckled, the sound low and mocking. "Well, what do you expect? I am a demon, after all. Now then, stop yipping at me. C'mere boy... shake! Who's a good boy?"

The boy’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, his cheeks puffing up as he stamped his foot in frustration. "Quit it! Don’t make fun of me! And don’t tell me to shake! I am not a dog!"

Nephilia couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from her chest, escaping before she could even think to hold it back. The image that popped into her head was far too vivid and amusing—a tiny, energetic puppy hopping around, barking fiercely as it tried to intimidate a much larger, unbothered dog. The absurdity of the comparison struck her so suddenly that she couldn’t help but giggle.

All eyes turned toward her, but she was too caught up in the mental image to care. "I’m sorry," she managed between laughs, "I just… couldn’t help it. The image was just… too much."

As Nephilia’s laugh echoed through the room, Luke’s reaction was almost immediate. He turned sharply to face her, his blue eyes widening in surprise and confusion. For a moment, he seemed frozen in place, his small fists still clenched from his outburst at Lucifer. But as his gaze traveled up—way up—toward Nephilia’s towering form, his expression shifted from surprise to something bordering on awe, mixed with a hint of wariness.

Luke had been bracing himself for mockery, expecting the same kind of teasing he usually endured from demons like Lucifer. But the laughter that had escaped Nephilia wasn’t cruel or mocking. It was genuine, light-hearted, and almost… warm. The stark contrast between what he expected and what he received left him momentarily speechless.

As his eyes finally met hers, Luke felt a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, he was still indignant—he had been trying to defend Simeon, after all! But on the other, there was something about Nephilia’s presence that made him feel oddly comforted. Despite her imposing height and the undeniable power she seemed to exude, there was a kindness in her gaze that put him at ease, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

For a brief moment, Luke felt almost intimidated by her size—after all, she was taller than any human he had ever seen, and even taller than many of the demons he knew. But as he studied her, he realized that she wasn’t looking down at him with judgment or disdain. Instead, there was something almost maternal in the way she regarded him, like she found his fiery spirit endearing rather than annoying.

Still, Luke wasn’t one to back down, especially not in front of someone new. Puffing out his chest slightly, he tried to regain some of his earlier bravado, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the way he had to crane his neck to look up at her. “It’s not funny,” he muttered, though his voice lacked the conviction it had before. There was a hint of embarrassment in his tone, his earlier fire dimmed by the unexpected gentleness of her reaction.

Nephilia, noticing the shift in his demeanor, smiled down at him, her eyes soft with understanding. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you. I just couldn’t help it—your reaction was too cute. Plus, compared to me, you really are the size of a chihuahua.”

Luke’s face turned an even deeper shade of red at the word “cute,” but this time, it wasn’t just from anger. There was a flicker of something else—shyness, perhaps—though he quickly masked it with a huff. “I-I’m not cute and I'm not a chihuahua! I’m a mighty angel, you know! And I was just… defending Simeon!”

Nephilia’s smile widened, her amusement tempered by genuine affection. “Of course you are, and you did a great job. You’re very brave.”

The compliment caught Luke off guard, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. He looked up at her, searching her face for any sign of sarcasm or teasing, but found none. She was serious, and that realization made his heart swell with pride. He quickly straightened up, trying to appear as dignified as possible. “W-well… thank you. I guess."

Diavolo's smile widened even further, his eyes gleaming with warmth and amusement as he watched the interaction between Nephilia and Luke. He stepped forward, his presence commanding attention without effort. "It seems we've yet to make formal introductions," he said, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Nephilia, allow me to introduce you properly."

He gestured toward the small angel standing by Simeon’s side. "This is Luke, a young angel in training. He’s still learning the ways of the Celestial Realm, but he’s quite dedicated and passionate about what he does."

Luke puffed out his chest a little more, trying to stand as tall as he could, though it was clear he was still slightly overwhelmed by Nephilia’s presence. "I… I may be small, but I’m going to be a great angel one day! Just you wait!"

Nephilia smiled warmly at him, nodding in encouragement. “I’m sure you will, Luke. It’s nice to meet you.”

Diavolo then turned to the taller, serene figure beside Luke. "And this," he continued, "is Simeon, a respected angel from the Celestial Realm. We’re honored to have him with us here in the Devildom."

Simeon's reaction was subtle but telling. His calm and collected demeanor faltered ever so slightly as his gaze traveled up to meet her eyes. For a brief moment, his expression held a trace of surprise, as if he hadn’t quite expected her to be as towering and imposing in person as she appeared. The way his eyes widened, just a fraction, spoke volumes. It was clear that Nephilia’s height and presence were far more commanding than he had anticipated.

Simeon quickly recovered, his serene smile returning, though Nephilia could sense curiosity in his gaze. He inclined his head slightly in a gesture of acknowledgment, his eyes lingering on her face as if he were trying to discern something deeper about her. There was no fear or intimidation in his expression—only curiosity and a quiet admiration that seemed to stem from recognizing something profound within her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You are... quite remarkable."

As his gaze lingered, Nephilia couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that had caught his attention so thoroughly. She had encountered many reactions to her appearance over the years—shock, awe, discomfort—but Simeon’s reaction was far more nuanced. It was as if he saw through her towering frame to the core of who she was, and what he found there resonated with him in a way she hadn’t expected, and left them both puzzled.

Nephilia returned the gesture, still somewhat taken aback by how strikingly different Simeon’s presence was compared to the demons she had met thus far. “The pleasure is mine, Simeon. I appreciate the warm welcome.”

Diavolo’s gaze returned to Nephilia, his expression one of pride as he introduced her to the angels. “And, Simeon, Luke, this is Nephilia, our newest exchange student from the human world. She’s already proven herself to be quite remarkable—both in presence and in spirit.”

Simeon’s eyes glinted with interest as he studied Nephilia more closely. “Indeed,” he said softly. “I've heard the rumors and can already see that you’re someone who stands out, not just in stature, but in character as well. It’s clear that you’re going to leave quite an impression here.”

Luke, still looking up at Nephilia with wide eyes, nodded fervently. “Yeah! You’re really tall… I mean, you’re really impressive! I-I mean… it’s nice to meet you!”

Nephilia chuckled at Luke’s flustered attempt to be polite, her gaze softening as she looked between the two angels. “Thank you both. I’m looking forward to learning more about this place and everyone in it.”

Diavolo’s eyes twinkled with warmth and amusement as he regarded Nephilia. "I’m glad to see everything is going well here," he said, his voice filled with a sincerity that made her feel as though she was the only one in the room. The prince then stepped closer, his gaze lingering on her with an unmistakable curiosity that seemed to dance just beneath the surface. Gently, he reached out and took her hand in his, lifting it with a grace that only someone of his stature could manage.

Nephilia’s heart gave a small, unexpected flutter as Diavolo leaned down, placing a brief yet deliberate kiss on her knuckles. The gesture was old-fashioned, almost courtly, and it caught her off guard. There was a subtle weight to the touch of his lips against her skin, a lingering warmth that made her pulse quicken. When he straightened, his eyes met hers, and for a fleeting moment, she saw something beyond mere curiosity in his gaze—something that made her wonder if there was more behind his princely charm.

"Until we meet again, Nephilia," Diavolo said with a smile. With that, he turned and made his way toward the exit, leaving her with a sense of intrigue she hadn’t expected to feel.

Lucifer moved to follow Diavolo, his steps measured and deliberate. However, just before reaching the door, he paused and turned back to Nephilia. His expression was calm, but his eyes held a trace of something that could almost be concern. "Nephilia," he began, his voice carrying the weight of responsibility, "I trust you’ll look after Mammon while you’re here."

Nephilia blinked, surprised by the request. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Barbatos, who had been standing just behind Diavolo, let out a soft chuckle. "As I recall, Lord Mammon was supposed to be the one looking after Nephilia, was he not?"

Lucifer’s lips twitched upward in a faint smile. "Yes, that’s how I remember it as well," he replied smoothly. "Your point?"

Barbatos shook his head, amusement coloring his gaze as he exchanged a knowing look with Lucifer. "No point at all, just an observation," the butler responded, his tone light and teasing.

With that, the two of them turned and strode away, their retreating figures marked by the elegance and confidence befitting their positions. Simeon, who had remained quietly observant throughout the exchange, followed a step behind them. As he reached the door, he turned his head briefly, catching Nephilia’s eye. With a gentle smile, he waved over his shoulder, a gesture that conveyed both farewell and reassurance. Then, with a final glance, he too disappeared through the doorway, leaving the room to grow still once more.

Now alone with Luke, Nephilia found herself reflecting on the interaction. Diavolo’s kiss on her knuckles, Lucifer’s subtle yet pointed request, Barbatos’s amused interjection—there was a complexity to these demons and angels that she hadn’t fully grasped until now. And yet, amidst it all, there was something else she couldn’t quite shake: the lingering sensation of Diavolo’s touch, the weight of his gaze. It was as though he had planted a seed of curiosity within her, one that would grow as their paths inevitably crossed again.

Luke, sensing the shift in atmosphere, looked up at her with wide, expectant eyes. "So, um… what happens now?" he asked, his youthful energy returning as the tension of the moment faded.

Nephilia smiled down at him, her mind still buzzing with the events of the morning. "I suppose we see where the day takes us," she replied, though her thoughts remained with the departing figures—particularly the one who had left an impression far stronger than she’d anticipated.

As they walked down the dimly lit hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoed softly off the ancient stone walls. The conversation that began between them was one that Nephilia would not be privy to, but it carried a weight that none of them could ignore. Simeon, usually so serene and composed, appeared lost in thought, his brows furrowed slightly as he reflected on what he had sensed from Nephilia earlier.

Noticing the angel's unusual silence, Barbatos turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes catching the subtle shift in Simeon's demeanor. "Is something on your mind, Simeon?" Barbatos asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

Simeon hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, his tone thoughtful. "Yes, actually. I’ve been wondering… Nephilia—is she truly human?"

At this, the group paused, exchanging glances that spoke of mutual recognition. Diavolo was the first to respond, a hint of solemnity in his usually warm expression. "So you’ve noticed it as well, Simeon."

Simeon nodded, his gaze distant as he continued. "When I sensed her soul earlier, I couldn’t help but feel that something was… different. It wasn’t like the souls of other humans, not even like Solomon’s. There was an echo, something ancient, something almost… divine." His voice softened on the last word, as if even uttering it required careful consideration.

Diavolo’s expression grew more contemplative. "She is human, as far as we can tell," he said slowly, his voice measured. "But you’re right—there is something within her that we haven’t been able to identify. Whatever it is, it’s something that even Nephilia herself doesn’t seem to be aware of."

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed slightly as he processed this information. "That echo… it’s grown stronger since she acquired the pact with Mammon," he observed. His tone was analytical, as if he were piecing together a puzzle with missing pieces. "It’s as though the connection with him has amplified whatever it is she carries."

Barbatos, ever the observant one, added his thoughts in his usual calm manner. "It’s possible that whatever is within her is responding to the power she’s been exposed to. The Devildom’s influence, combined with the pact, may be awakening something that was dormant before."

A brief silence followed as the implications of this realization settled over them. Finally, Barbatos spoke again, this time offering a solution. "If you wish, I can look into it further. I could examine the past, or perhaps even the future, to uncover what this echo might be."

But Diavolo shook his head, raising a hand to gently decline the offer. "No, Barbatos. For now, we should leave it be. Delving into the past or peering into the future could have unforeseen consequences. We don’t know what we might find—or what we might set in motion."

Lucifer, always the strategist, nodded in agreement. "It’s better to observe and gather more information as things unfold naturally. Rushing into this could do more harm than good."

Simeon’s expression remained pensive, but he accepted the decision with a quiet nod. "I understand. Still, it’s something we should keep an eye on. If Nephilia carries even a sliver of divine power within her, it could be of great significance."

Diavolo’s gaze grew distant, sad almost, as if he were already thinking several steps ahead. "Indeed. We must proceed with caution, but we should also be prepared for whatever may come. For now, we’ll let Nephilia continue her journey without interference. Whatever she carries, it’s a part of her story, and it will reveal itself in due time."

With that, the conversation ended, and they resumed their walk down the corridor. But the weight of what they had discussed lingered in the air, a quiet tension that hinted at the unknown possibilities ahead.

Nephilia tossed and turned in her bed, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. It had been like this for several nights now—sleep seemed to evade her, no matter how hard she tried to relax. Tonight was no different. The events of the day played on repeat in her head, her mind lingering on the enigmatic conversations and the unspoken tensions she had sensed among the demons and angels. But it was Luke’s parting words from earlier that echoed most strongly: "Never trust demons."

His warning had been clear, yet it conflicted with the experiences she had been having. Despite the volatile personalities and the constant undercurrent of danger, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the brothers than their titles and sins. But trust? That was a different matter entirely.

Just as she began to sink deeper into her thoughts, a voice suddenly broke through the silence, faint and distant, but unmistakably pleading. “Help… please… help me…”

Nephilia sat up in bed, her heart pounding as she scanned the dark room. The voice was soft, almost ethereal, and yet it carried a sense of urgency that made her skin prickle. She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty gnawing at her, but the voice called out again, and something within her compelled her to move.

Barefoot and dressed in her nightgown, Nephilia slipped out of bed and into the dimly lit hallway. The house was quiet, its usual eerie stillness only amplifying the unease building within her. She followed the voice, her footsteps light against the creaking floorboards, as it guided her through the winding corridors of the House of Lamentation. The voice grew clearer with each step, leading her toward the stairs that ascended to the attic.

The closer she got, the stronger the pull became, almost as if she were being drawn by an invisible force. When she reached the base of the stairs, she paused, her hand hovering over the banister. The voice was just above her now, pleading for help once more. But as she prepared to climb, a firm hand suddenly gripped her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

“Nephilia,” a familiar voice intoned, sharp and commanding.

She turned to find Lucifer standing behind her, his expression stern and unreadable. The shadows from the dim lights danced across his features, highlighting the seriousness in his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” Lucifer’s tone was laced with authority, leaving no room for defiance. “The attic is not a place for humans. It’s dangerous.”

For a moment, Nephilia felt as though she had been snapped out of a trance. She blinked, disoriented, as if only now realizing where she was. The voice that had seemed so clear moments before was now silent, leaving her with an unsettling sense of confusion.

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” she answered truthfully, struggling to shake off the remnants of whatever had compelled her to come here. “I thought I’d take a walk to clear my head, and I ended up here.”

Lucifer’s gaze softened slightly, though his eyes remained sharp, assessing her carefully. “You should be more careful,” he said after a moment. “There are things in this house that are not meant for you to see. This attic is one of them.”

Nephilia nodded, not daring to mention the voice she had heard. Something told her that now was not the time to bring it up, and she wasn’t sure how Lucifer would react if she did. It was as if her instincts were screaming at her to hold back, to wait.

Lucifer released her wrist, but his presence remained imposing. He sighed softly, a rare sign of weariness from the usually composed demon. “Come,” he said, his tone gentler now. “I’ll walk you back to your room, and I’ll prepare a cup of tea to help you sleep. But heed my warning, Nephilia—never go near the attic again.”

Nephilia allowed him to guide her away from the stairs, the sense of unease still lingering in the pit of her stomach. As they made their way back to her room, she couldn’t help but glance back at the darkened staircase, a chill running down her spine. The voice that had led her there was gone, but its presence still haunted her thoughts.

As Lucifer escorted her to her door, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something—someone—hidden away in that attic. Something that the eldest didn’t want her, or anyone, to find. But for now, she would have to push those thoughts aside. She could feel Lucifer’s gaze on her, watchful and protective, but also guarded. There were secrets in this house—secrets she wasn’t sure she was ready to uncover.

But whatever lay hidden in the attic, she knew one thing for certain: she wouldn’t rest until she found out what it was.

[earth-to-stardust]

🐾The Outsiders as Dogs🐾

This list is inspired by this adorable list that @dallasgallant made! It was so cute that I had to make my own. I grew up in horse town until I was twelve (lots and lots of farmland, seasonal rodeos, etc) so the breeds that I've chosen are dogs that I saw pretty often or were aware of.

Ponyboy: The Belgian Laekenois

So for the Curtis brothers, I wanted to keep them all in the same family, and what better farm dog breed to pick from than the Belgian Shepherd! These dogs are very intelligent and eager to please, on top of being very affectionate. And while they're an overall family dog, they can also get attached to one person in particular, and that just really reminds me of Pony and Soda's relationship.

Sodapop: The Belgian Tervuven

Now the Belgian Tervuven, while primarily being great farm hands, are commonly used as therapy and service dogs. They're also really easygoing and recognizable by their beautiful, fluffy coats. I can just imagine Tervuven!Soda cuddling up with Laekenois!Pony after he has bad nightmare.

Darry: The Belgian Malinois

Rounding up the Curtis brother is Darry as the Belgian Malinois. Out of the different breeds in the Belgian Shepherd family, these dogs are known for their unwavering work ethic and solid intelligence. This just screams Darry to me and it doesn't help that Malinois can gel really well with energetic breeds and well, the perfect breed to be the unofficial leader of a gang of energetic pooches.

Johnny: The Border Collie

Now I know that Johnny isn't the most hyperactive character, but he is one of the most independent, and Border Collies are known work very well by themselves. Combined with their quick reaction time and high levels of intelligence, I can think of no better dog to represent Johnny.

Dally: The Kangal Shepherd

Kangal Shepherds are traditional guardian dogs and have been known to fend off wolves and other predators (i.e. cheetahs—yes cheetahs—in certain parts of Africa). Unfortunately, this breed is also very prominent in dog fighting rings, where their aggression for natural predators is turned on its head for other dog breeds. I'm very much reminded of Dally's violence and his protectiveness of Johnny in this breed.

Steve: The Catahoula Leopard Dog

These dogs, while very agile and intelligent, are very energetic and require a little more attention than most farm dogs. It's not very hard to visualize Catahoula!Steve nagging Tervuven!Soda to play with him lol.

Two Bit: The Black Mouth Cur

The two most defining traits of the Black Mouth Cur are their sensitivity and loyalty to their flock and their owners. They're fearless in the face of predators but also goofy and lovable, just like Two Bit!

Cherry: The Cocker Spaniel

I can only see the Socs as show dog breeds so ofc I had to give Cherry the Cocker Spaniel. Their redish-brownish fur is pretty iconic, just like Cherry's red hair.

Marcia: The Cavalier King Charles

Just like Cherry, another show dog. The Cavalier King Charles is very affectionate and open to interacting to strangers, so please imagine King Charles!Marcia and Black Mouth Cur!Two Bit hitting it off and playing with each other.

[9haharharley1]

Will you accept a question and a prompt?

What are some things that help get your creative juices flowing? (Because the stuff you write is just phenomenal.)

And mayhaps a bit of Pitch being creepy with a sleepy Jack?

Of course! And thank you, that's so sweet!!

Things that get my creative juices flowing 🤔

It really depends, I think? Getting the ideas can be pretty easy sometimes. Its writing them that can be the problem. I get inspirations from movies - oh this character reminds me of Blorbo A, he would be fun to put in this situation, how would he react? Or sometimes just the basic premise or trope - ie Mermaid au, coffee shop au. I want to write these things but they're so vague that getting the details down in writing, or even just trying to hash out a plot can be a chore.

Sometimes it's music- this song screams Blorbo B, or maybe it fits the ship dynamic really well, ooh here's a situation! Let's throw it all in a blender and see what happens!

Other times it's art - obviously with me, I know, but I have that type of memory where I actually can't picture details in my head. It's why I don't focus on improving my own art, but seeing a situation actually already set up, for me, can act as a reference like an artist would a figure when sketching a pose or something. I see the image or situation, and suddenly it's much easier to figure out how they got into that situation. Who instigated it? What are they feeling? What happens after?

And sometimes it's as easy and simple as finding the right prompt! I see the prompt (ie. Character A is wearing this and B reacts to it) and it's just the right combination of words to instantly trigger a scenario in my brain! Especially if it's one that's been incubating in my head for a long time already.

---

(A Stay entry mayhap? A prologue of some kind?!)

Jack had long made a habit of sleeping in trees. And Pitch had long made the habit of watching him.

He had taken notice roughly fifty years after Jack Frost's resurrection that the weather patterns during winter had started to change, becoming more erratic and volatile as the years went on, as Jack became more and more isolated from the humans and the spirits around him. Pitch languished in his fear, amplifying the effects Jack's blizzards had on human settlements and driving them further indoors, away from the boy who tried so desperately to get them to notice him. It was cruel, but Pitch didn't exactly care, more concerned with building up his stores of power in preparation for his next big fight with the Guardians.

He followed after Jack most days during the cold seasons to chase after this easy fear.

As winter waned and Bunnymund began ushering in spring and life, Jack would begin to settle. And he generally, he settled in some remote and freezing location, taking some time to rest and recuperate his natural cold before moving on to the next hemisphere. This usually meant he'd stake out a tree, settling in on a branch with his arms curled around his staff and little regard for anything else. He'd drift off into a dreamless sleep, and Pitch would watch.

He never spoke to the boy. He never tried to even approach him, weary of drawing the young thing in and growing attached. Because he would. He knew himself well enough after countless eons with nothing but shadows to keep him company that he would latch onto Jack's bright smile and easy conversation. The boy would cling to him in return, desperate for companionship as he was, and when he realized what kind of monster Pitch was, he would attempt to leave.

And Pitch would not let him go.

He would keep Jack for himself, cage him and break him, tarnish that wonderful brightness Jack radiated like fresh snowfall. Winter had been Pitch's domain for millenia before Jack. And if he let Jack close, he would make it his all over again.

It was best to leave him alone for now. Some day, maybe.

But Pitch couldn't stay away, attracted to the gleam of light on fresh snow like a moth to a flame, his shadow growing larger the closer he got. The temptation was ever present in his mind; to reach out, to touch, to take. He wanted this lonely little spirit for himself.

Pitch shook his head, settling down to sit on the branch Jack rested on. The sprite was fast asleep, shoulders and neck propped against the trunk of the tree, his brown cape pillowing his head. His staff was clutched close in his arms, little flakes of frost sparking from the curved tip with every soft snore.

Even in sleep, Jack's power was almost too much to contain. What the Nightmare King could do to use that power for himself...

Legs swinging idly from the branch, he looked away from the sleeping spirit, out to the winter wonderland beyond. Thick pine tree grew tall and vast all around, a veritable sea of green and brown, blanket in snow. The ground was completely covered in fresh powder, unblemished save for the few brave animals venturing out into the cold. Icicles hung from branches and ferns, sparkling in the starlight without the moon's overwhelming presence drowning them out.

It was beautiful.

The world felt far away and empty here, muffled and silent save for Jack's quiet snores and Pitch's own steady breathing. It was peaceful, and he felt himself relax as he simply watched the world turn, enjoying the cold and recalling a time when cold was his every day. His lips pulled up in a soft smile. He glanced at Jack.

The boy hadn't moved, laying surprisingly still for someone with so much restless energy during the day. He looked so young in his sleep, so content, and Pitch wondered if he would ever be able to have such a peace for himself.

He shook his head. Best not to think about it.

Jack shifted, drawing Pitch's attention back to him. His toes twitched, one foot kicking a little, just enough to brush Pitch's thigh for how close he sat. A noise slipped from Jack's mouth with the contact, and he shifted again, edging down the tree in his unconscious state as though seeking out the source, desperate for contact. Pitch watched, unblinking.

When Jack's toes found his leg, he sighed, the smallest of smiles tugging his lips. A hand came up to push the offending appendage away, but as Pitch gazed at that happy little grin, pale cheeks flushed the lightest shade of purple, and he hesitated. He should push him away. He knew he should; he couldn't risk getting attached to even the idea of friendship, let the boy desperate for it.

But he was weak, as the shadows often liked to remind him, and instead of shoving Jack's foot away and starting the sprite awake to get a quick dose of fright, he placed his hand gently on freezing toes. He swallowed, shifting closer and lifting both feet into his lap, where he covered them with both hands. Another sigh of contentment left Jack's parted lips, the younger spirit settling quickly despite Pitch's heat sinking into his skin. He rubbed gently at calloused skin, massaging the bare feet in his lap, watching Jack's peaceful face the whole time, looking for any sign of discomfort or alertness.

None could be found.

He didn't move for a long time, simply touching and watching, thinking of all the could haves and what ifs, the snow muffling the whispers of shadows.

When the sun finally peeked its first rays of light over the horizon and Jack stirred from his rest, Pitch was gone, melted into the shadow of a nearby tree. He was treated to the sight of Jack sitting up, blinking groggy eyes and wiggling his toes, staring at his feet for a long time with the kind of look on his face Pitch could only describe as wonder. He may need to go terrorize North a little for the thought, but he settled for watching the content little smile that lit up Jack's face.

[mmeskywalker]

|| anakin wattpad story

warnings: no warnings, just hear me out PLEASE !!

if i were to create a wattpad story where the guardians of the galaxy world and the star wars world collided… would anyone be interested in that?

the main character could be peter quills daughter. due to peter needing a place to hide, the main character ended up living on tatooine for the first few years of her life. peter had been friends with shmi for some time now and she agreed to letting peter and his daughter stay at her home until they found a better living situation. there, the main character met anakin. they were childhood best friends. they remained attached to the hip until she watched qui-gon save anakin from slavery and become what he was destined to become; a jedi.

after anakin left, it wasn’t long before peter got caught stealing again. the main character was angry. she was angry at her father for being so reckless. shmi was all she had left of anakin. these were the same shitty mistakes he had made back on earth before she was born, the same shitty mistakes he continues to make that gets him chased out of all planets.

she just wants a normal life. that is until she starts following in his footsteps.

along the way of their chase out, peter and the main character made some friends: gamora, drax, groot, and rocket. of course, their meeting wouldn’t occur in the story, but in the past.

together, they would steal for the sith of the galaxy (or whoever paid well…) this was their first time stealing for general grevious. general grevious had an obsession with lightsabers, he wanted jedi dead and lightsabers to prove it hung on his wall. but he couldn’t do that by himself. so, he hired the thugs he had heard about who’ve been making a name for themselves around the galaxy.

this is where the first chapter would begin.

they were camping out in the outer rim regions. they heard a jedi had been scoping the area, senseful of their arrival. the group didn’t realize killing jedi was so difficult. they were only able to salvage two lightsabers, and it wasn’t because they killed a jedi, it was because the main character had a light saber. actually, the two she had, she made with anakin a long, long time ago on tatooine.

she previously found it stacked away in her closet, burried behind photoalbums of her and anakin as children. she didn’t want that reminder, so she grabbed it and stuck it on the table. “two down, eight to go.” she said as if it didn’t pain her.

they awoke that night to a noise coming from outside the ‘safety’ of their ship. sand people were coming to raid them. they were putting up a fight as the sand people came, one by millions, to their doorstep.

a sand person came up to the main girl, and she was frightened because there were too many of them to fight off. she was surrounded and the rest of her family were occupied with kicking their own piece of sandman ass. in a fit of rage, she reached her hand out, and the sand people began to hover off of the ground; until the forcefully fell with a thud.

she knew she was connected with the force, but she wasn’t connected with the force. she never practiced it. she couldn’t have been that powerful. so when drax accused her of using her quote, unquote, ‘jedi shit’ , she violently shuck her head no.

the force reckoned with began to mess with the family, having them all confused and ready to attack before it came out of hiding. it was the jedi they had been looking for. this jedi is going to be one of my own ocs.

the jedi was sent to achieve them, but not in the way they were all expecting. she didn’t want to send them to jail… rather she didn’t want to send the main girl to jail, she had business that needed to be attended with elsewhere.

the main character was needed back on coruscant, because if she couldn’t get her head out of her ass and stop working for these idiotic sith lords, she, and the rest of the galactic republic, would end up dead.

i was thinking this could be a romance between an oc and anakin skywalker, and the main character would have to (forcefully) become obi-wans padawan.

this is going to occur during episode two, except i want to create my own plotline for the story.

let me know what you think !!! 💗

[myocsfanfictions]

South Side Story

Shamelesse Fanfiction Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

MASTERLIST

<< Previous - Next >>

Chaspter 9

“Babe?” Veronica’s voice as she opened the door got Desna's attention. She was frying a couple of eggs. “Coupons?”

Desna nodded her head, “Pretended to jog, got the one ones on 53rd Street, they are on the table,” she said, gesturing towards the sheets of paper.

“How did it go?” She asked, amused as V let out a laugh.

“That’s always so much fun,” Veronica said, sitting on the chair with a big smile. Sometimes, they did that, and both of them were with the Gallaghers. V would usually go with either Ian or Lip, and she flirted with the guy who delivered food in shops so that the guys could steal some goods. Desna would leave the house early in the morning with Debs to steal the sheets of coupons from the front house.

The Gallaghers needed help arriving at the end of the month. V and Kev, on the other hand, didn’t have problems, so Veronica would always do things to help the family, like helping them steal or letting them borrow their things. That made Desna like Veronica even more.

“What about Kev?” The woman asked, taking the newspaper and turning the pages.

“Still asleep,” Desna said with a snort, “Butt in the air,” V laughed again. Just then, Ian opened their back door to put a bottle of juice next to V.

“Thanks, handsome,” she said, giving him the coupons. Desna waved at the boy as he went out.

“I’m sorry about Kev and me,” Veronica said, making Desna giggle as she put the eggs on two plates.

“About what?” She asked, walking towards the table.

“We are loud,” V took a breath, “And not subtle at all.”

“That’s no problem,” Desna assured, “You are in love,” Desna said, starting to eat her breakfast, “Sex is part of it, and with the chemistry that you have, it’s just inevitable.”

She knew well what it meant to have someone close with whom she felt a connection and attraction so great that it was almost impossible to stop her from touching him, holding him, and kissing him. She envied what V and Kev had on some level, knowing that she’d never have it with Lip.

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression about this kind of stuff,” V said, but Desna shook her head.

“Nothing you do could give me a wrong impression,” she said honestly, squeezing V’s hand. “If anything, I’d like to be like you.”

V leaned forward to give her a sweet kiss on the hair, “Thank you, babe.”

Desna loved her relationship with both Kev and V. They knew how to be over the top, but that was just their character. Desna could not have asked for better guardians.

Her day went on. Desna went to school, took an English test, and set with Ian at lunch.

“So, will you ever make one?” Ian asked from next to her as she was finishing the sketch of a shirt on the pages of a notebook.

“I can’t see,” she reminded him before shrugging her shoulder. “This is just a hobby.”

“You fix my ripped shirt, alright,” he said encouragingly, and a smile appeared on her face.

“I don’t know,” she said, “And what should I do then?”

“Sell them?” Ian answered.

“Where?” Desna asked, and Ian shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t know. But wherever it is, can I get a share?” Ian said with a smile making her laugh.

“Hey, I’ll do all the work!” She complained.

“But I gave you the idea,” he said back. She looked at him fondly, before leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Only because you’re sweet,” this made him chuckle. Then, they stood in silence for some moments.

“How are you?” Ian asked suddenly, “Yesterday you were pretty shaken up…”

Ian had told her that Frank had attached him because Mr. Jackson had hit him after what happened at Karen’s house. Desna was sure he had questions, like everyone else in that house who was not V or Lip, after the way she behaved.

“I’m good, Ian,” she answered, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t of any help.”

But he shook his head, “Don’t worry, really…” he said, “Lip wanted to go to talk to you, has he?”

Desna nodded her head, thinking back at how happy and relieved she had been as she had seen him in her room.

“Then Karen came to look for him,” Ian chuckled bitterly at her words, and she moved to look at him when she felt him shake his head.

“What?” She asked.

Ian took a breath. “Karen is a whore-“

“Ian!” Desna exclaimed, surprised.

“And I do not understand why he’d let you go and keep her,” his words made her look down. Lip was, in fact, acting with Karen as if she were his girlfriend. Bringing her home, cuddling before everyone—he had never done that with her…

“Because he likes her more,” she muttered, feeling her mouth going dry, “Probably he just thinks I’m good for fuck,” Ian turned to look at her, observing her expression that probably was giving away the awful feelings that she had inside of her.

“Then he’d be an idiot,” Ian said before kissing her cheek, to which she gave a small, sad smile.

“Or maybe, I am…” she said, scoffing, leaning back on her chair, “I mean, he told me from the start what he wanted. He wanted to fuck, not string attached, none of this shit,” she ranted, “What was I expecting from him?”

“So now is your fault?” Ian protested before shaking his head, “Listen, Lip knows very well how to be an asshole.”

“Don’t tell me about it…” she muttered just before her cell phone went off. Desna frowned as she went through her bag. Her ability to never find her phone was like a superpower.

As she finally found it, her brows frowned, reading the name that had appeared on the scream.

“It’s Steve,” she said, looking up at Ian.

“Steve?” Desna was quick to press the green button, “Hello?”

“Des, hey,” Fiona’s voice came from the other side.

“Fiona, what’s up?” She asked, looking up at Ian.

Fiona took a breath, “Did you, by any chance, have seen Frank somewhere?”

“Frank?” she asked, making Ian frown. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t leave the house yesterday. Why? What’s happening?” Desna said as Ian moved closer to try to listen.

“I can’t find him,” she admitted, her worry was evident in her tone.

“I… I’m sure he is alright,” Desna tried to say. Frank could be anywhere by now since he usually drank until he couldn’t even find his ass with his own hands, “At the Alibi?”

“I tried,” she answered nervously, “Kev said that he drank and went away. I’m very worried, Des,”

“He is probably sleeping somewhere,” which happened other times. Then, he’d probably appear out of nowhere looking for beer.

“No, this is strange,” Fiona said through the phone.

“Why?”

“It’s last Friday,” at her words, Desna's eyes widened. The Disability-check, Frank Gallagher would never miss fresh money. It never mattered where he was, he would always show up for his disability-check.

“Oh, shit…” Desna muttered, looking at Ian, who, by the face, must have listened to his sister, “Alright, Ian is here with me; we’ll find Lip and come back home.”

“Thank you, Des,” Fiona said, letting out a heavy breath.

“We’ll find him,” Desna assured her before ending the phone call and standing up alongside Ian.

“Let’s find your brother,” Desna said.

“Okay, I go right, you go left,” he said, pointing in the direction he was talking about.

“Alright,” she nodded before starting to run through the corridor, hoping to find Lip as soon as possible and not find him busy in any activities she really didn’t need to know anything about.

As she passed by, someone grabbed her by the arm, making her stop to meet Iggy Milkovich’s face. “Hey, where are you running to?” he asked with a smirk, his eyes traveling towards her chest.

“I gotta go,” she said, trying to pull her arm back from his grip, “Can you let me go?”

“Would you blow me again if I do?” Desna’s eyes widened at his words, “That mouth works magic, and you’re gorgeous as you’re at it. Did you know that?” She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. The way he was smirking made her uneasy, “I’d like to see it in person again,” but she was finally able to free herself from his grip, shoving him away from her.

“Stay the fuck away!” She exclaimed, making him let out a low chuckle; as he got close again,

“Be very careful,” he said, “We don’t want the school to know,” Desna’s breath got stuck in her throat.

“To know what?” she whispered, but then Mikey Milkovich's voice echoed in the alley.

“Iggy, leave Sweetcheeks alone,” he yelled, “We have to fucking go!”

Iggy chuckled again as he passed by her to walk towards his cousin.

“To know what?” she asked again, but he only smirked before disappearing into the crowd. What did he mean? Desna hadn’t liked those words at all, especially the way his eyes looked at her. She felt nervous all of a sudden, and her heart was beating loudly in her chest as she kept asking herself what he meant by those words.

“Des!” Ian’s voice made her turn. “Found him!” Ian and Lip were making their way toward her, avoiding other students. Desna took a breath and put her hair behind her ears to try to calm herself down. Once she felt ready, she made her way toward the Gallagher brothers.

“I’ve already explained him everything,” Ian said stopping in front of her.

Lip frowned, “You alright?” Desna turned to look at him, nodding her head.

“Yeah,” she said, her throat feeling very dry. "Let’s go find Frank.”

*****

Tag List: @th3h0nkz @aunicornmademedoit

If you liked it, please leave a ♥️ and reblog!

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

hi I need you to know I physically cannot be normal about this fic like I see the update notification in my mail and I start having HEART PALPITATIONS its insane

I will forever appreciate how well written it is too, the realism of kenny just being some guy who despite being immortal isn't like super particularly skilled or emotionally put together is... GOD, mwah. chef's kiss. I especially LOVE his slightly twisted sense of morals like. he's not perfect. he's not doing it for just anyone but he's fueled by the sympathy he feels for the people around him that he knows like his sister, his friends, his boss, fucking BUTTERS ohh lord. I love a flawed hero. he can be a little selfish as a treat

AND BUTTERRSSD OH MY GOD I love his stupid business persona. the scene where he gives that fake ass smile to kenny never leaves my mind and I love him SO!!! MUCH!!! he's like a caged animal when he's aroundkenny it's so ghhhh IT'S SO REAL!!!!! and I love his methods for being an insane little guy too like CAMERAS??? TASERS??? SCAMMING??? ECONOMY WRECKING??? THIS IS WHAT CHAOS WAS MEANT FOR

it genuinely puts the fantasy of heroes and villains in such a real perspective that makes it feel that much more intense and like you can connect with it easier and I'm just. ugh. I eat it up every time I love you and your work thank you for all the time and effort you put into it, I can only imagine how hard it is as someone who is literally procrastinating writing a fic by writing this rn LOL

brother you have been in my inbox. for fucking weeks. i'm so sorry but also i've been rereading this so often it's embarrassing JASDHAK HELP THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS JESUS CHRIST

ok long post ahead bc you say a lot of things here that i wanna get into regarding character & story writing😁😁😁😁

The fact that Kenny feels like a realistic guy to you is just so <33333333 the absolute JOY that it brings me. I feel like I don't see enough depictions of him going into his flaws, not just his struggles. Kenny is a very kind-hearted guy, he's very empathetic and he is a huge softie and awesome friend, but the circumstances of his life I see in various instances have made him apathetic to lots of things he deems out of his control, and, on the flip side, hyper-controlling of the things he feels like he CAN control.

"From Dusk Til Casa Bonita" is one of those instances; he's obsessed with keeping Karen safe (probably because no one has ever taken care of him in the way he needed), and he goes to great lengths to even control her social circle without letting her know HE'S doing it (she doesn't know KENNY is her guardian angel!!). This is such a nuanced flaw that makes perfect sense for Kenny and his background and everything life has thrown at him, and I love exploring these less-than-ideal aspects of him and play with his twisted morality, even if it's fueled by love. Idk i could go on and on about Kenny's morals, I'm so happy that's something that stuck out to you in the fic <333

About Butters-- "he's like a caged animal when he's around kenny" is SUCH a good way to put it. I can't get too deep into his character for now bc his pov in the story carries an inherent spoiler for chapters that aren't out yet🤭🤭🤭 But yeah, in the scenes we've seen him in he wasn't prepared to see Kenny AT ALL so he's stuck in a limbo between the happy boy he used to be when Kenny was around and the twisted, unhinged and ruthless person he is now. Zero attachments to anyone, beaten and chewed and spat back out by life. It's one step away from the actual Vic Chaos in we see in canon

and "CAMERAS??? TASERS??? SCAMMING??? ECONOMY WRECKING??? THIS IS WHAT CHAOS WAS MEANT FOR" I FUCKING KNOW RIGHT?????????? Butters has so many skills that in my opinion, if used well, are INFINITELY more scary than any physical damage he could cause. He's shown to be an insanely smart guy, with a knack for everything statistics, networking, money, technology, ... These are modern ways we see large-scale crimes in real life nowadays, and no one is ever prepared for them. I just couldn't get the idea out of my head, i HAD to write a fic where Chaos was all that ajhsdajhgdjka I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOUR EXCITEMENT ON THEM!!!

"it genuinely puts the fantasy of heroes and villains in such a real perspective that makes it feel that much more intense and like you can connect with it easier" like hello????? THANK YOU???? ARHGHGHGHG this is how i feel like about the show "The Boys" which tbh was also in part an inspiration for this fic so it makes me really happy that this is what it evoked for you.

Anyways jesus christ idk man thank you so much for this ask, idk I'm very insane about a lot of these aspects and I hope you don't mind a little unstructured yapping in response ajshdjaskja TYSM FOR THIS ASK <333333 i hope your writing is going well!!!!!

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

i do not know a sinlge thing about you but i love ur url and blog title

What a lovely ask!  And from someone I also know next to nothing about! Although, when I go through someone else's tumblr and find things I've either already reposted and/or things I wish to repost on mine, I am filled with delight.

We shall become delicious friends.

This is my fanfiction blog and, while I do write non-fanfiction, that is kept separate from my writing here.  The url/blog title is stolen from the videogame, but it is a somewhat obscure reference with delightful nuance and I would love to tell you about it.  

And, since no one can stop me, I shall!

I am uncertain if you are familiar with the videogame Destiny 2, but I shall assume you are not.  That way, if someone else unfamiliar with it finds this post, this is useful for them, too.  Apologies if you happen to know some of this already.

In the game, you play as a human (normal, Awoken [space elf], or Exo [robot]) resurrected by a tiny drone known as a ghost.  You are granted magic powers (you pick one of three flavours of magic: fighty-Titan, sneaky-Hunter or sorcerer-Warlock) by your ghost to fight the enemies of humanity who are trying (and have mostly succeeded) to render us extinct. You also get guns.  Lots and lots of guns.

There's several non-player characters with rich backstories to get attached to in the game.  One of them is Lord Shaxx, the cheerful drill-sargent-like Titan in charge of the Crucible (where people go for player vs player minigames).  

Another one is Saint-14, a beloved Exo Titan warrior, one half of "everybody's favourite gay grandpas," who was rescued from beyond death by our character in combination his partner, Osiris (a Warlock who broke time to save him).  

One of Lord Shaxx's infamous lines in the Crucible is "It's not over until I sing, Guardian!  AND I NEVER SING."  

This is important because when Shaxx and Saint-14 have their first conversation after Saint-14 has returned from the dead, Saint reminds Shaxx he owes him money.  Shaxx cannot pay, and Saint demands that Shaxx sing to make up for it.

The words of the song he sings are "I'm on the Moon, it's made of cheese" and he claims Eris Morn (one of the two characters I obsessively write fanfiction for) taught the song to him.  

This sounds very cute and funny and sweet, but the melody is a very specific one, one the players heard at the start of the game for a year.

Later in the story (we're talking years in human reality time because when you include both D1 and D2, Destiny has had a continuous story delivered in chunks on a relatively consistent basis for over a decade now) the Drifter (the other characer I obsessively write about)

asks Eris about the song he was told she sung to Shaxx.

As it turns out, she never sung the song to Shaxx but she does hum the melody and asks if that is the song in question.  It is.  

In-game it is the viral chant of Savathun, the Witch Queen, Hive god of Cunning, a magical musical corrupting influence which cannot be unheard.  

Eris tells the Drifter that Shaxx must have heard it from his Ahamkara (wish dragon) skull he heeps hanging over him because the bones are attuned to the Darkness (the Darkness is initially set up in opposition to the Light, which is where the player's magic powers come from, but later on Eris, the Drifter, and the player all learn to wield the Darkness in addition to the Light.) (Except Eris doesn't get to wield the Light any more because her ghost died to save her in the Hellmouth on the Moon.)

The song itself is Savathun's musical theme in the game.  That theme or a variation of it is played when we encounter her or her shenanigans (she has *so* many shenanigans!) but before we knew that, it was the title music for the Shadowkeep expansion:

Which is the Eris-centred story about the Moon being haunted (literally - we fight nightmares - with guns). (And if you've ever seen that "Moon's Haunted" meme, Shadowkeep is what it is referencing.)

That makes "I'm on the Moon, it's made of cheese" not just a reference to Eris and that time Shaxx was forced to sing, but also a considerably less cute reference to the Moon being haunted and the insidious corrupting evil Hive magic Eris initially fights against (before eventually learning to wield) in order to save humanity.  

But it gets better! Eris, later on, becomes the Hive god of Vengeance and takes Savathun's power by killing her (temporarily - it's complicated, but so, so cathartic) only to use that power to give up her godhood so she can neutralize Savathun's sister Xivu-Arath, the Hive god of War.  

Therefore it's extra-cool and fitting for that melody's first appearance to be in relation to Eris because, even though it is Savathun's song, Savathun's power is what Eris takes and uses to save us years (and many content expansions) later.  

I can (and do) blather on about Eris Morn being awesome on a routine basis so I'll stop there... she really is an amazing badass character and the writing for her in this silly shooty game is extremely well done.

So my url/blog title is a multi-layered creepy obscure reference to Eris, Hive magic, and Savathun, as well as the time the Drifter convinced Eris to sing to him, and the other time Saint made the guy who never sings, sing.

...But I also just really like cheese.

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Can i request a yandere!trish with a fem!reader? I don't see very much of it and it makes me sad because trish is waifu ;w;

Yandere! Trish Una x Fem! Reader

Gotta give some female characters attention too, I try my best to be equal opportunity with both male and female characters.

this may or may not be a two parter, It’s been a while since I’ve written out something and I don’t want to feel like I’m rushing something and make it uninteresting because I put it all out at once.

You saw yourself as a guardian for Trish Una ever since the mission of guarding her the first time. Of course her father planning to murder her, only strengthened your resolve to protect her. Betrayal by a horrible person who you’d hardly qualify as a father, you helped her process and talk everything out while the others were busy. She seemed to have some attachment to Bucciarati as well, but steadily you noticed her instinctively hover around you.

At that time you did all in your power to keep her safe after betraying the former leader of Passione. All while allowing to adjust to her newly gained stand. Multiple times she’d grip your arms or lace her fingers into your hand. The tiniest bit of downtime during that week you’d let her do as she pleased with your hair. Sometimes she’d compliment your eye colors, stare at you a little bit. Then proceed to talk about missing doing something casual with all this hiding. She even told you one night you made things feel like normal.

Every little thing you indulged in that week you felt was good for her. No one deserved to have all that weight of a traumatic experience put on them. Even after everything finally ended with Giorno defeating Diavolo and taking his place as the Don of Passione. You two were not separated, Trish piped up she needed you to feel safe and she couldn’t live alone.

Giorno asked you directly if you wanted to do so, taking in consideration how exhaustedly you took extra care of her. That he could find a female caretaker/guard to help Trish if you weren’t up to it. Instinctively, you knew Trish wouldn’t care for that. She seemed a bit huffy occasionally when you weren’t around. Deciding to not leave a headache to another associate you volunteered to live with Trish yourself.

His eyes furrowed for a moment but the confidence in your answer lead him requesting the place Bucciarati had mentioned he’d let Trish live in. He knew you both were close but there was something he couldn’t quite shake with Trish. Perhaps her behavior leaning towards being clingy, there was being close and then there was being a little too close.

“Just remember if you need a break/time for yourself you know where to find me” Giorno told you gently. It was the best statement he could give for now, his suspicions merely cautious for your safety.

“Thank You Giorno” You bowed your head

Shortly after this discussion, a car was brought up to the front of the building. Keys to the villa and the car itself were exchanged promptly. Trish’s belongings left behind in a previous place before going under protection were already in the trunk. Ready to be unpacked upon being taken inside. Upon arriving you immediately gesture Trish inside, but she decides to help you bring her belongings in instead.

“Are you sure? It’s rather late and you usually try to get in bed by this time don’t you?” You asked

Her eyes seem to pierce yours, “I can help” she seemed to insist. “I know you volunteered for looking out for me, there’s no need to overwork yourself” Her heels click on the ground as she goes to the now opened trunk and grabs out a few of her things. You follow her and proceed to grab what you can before heading to the door yourself. Sometimes it slipped your mind how determined she could be on insisting to do something. She was not helpless and could hold her own in decisions. Sighing to yourself you make sure the vehicle is locked and nothing was visible in any of the seats before heading in.

Eventually you get your own belongings inside this villa, Trish herself suggested so. All of your day practically revolved around her, but not once did you seemed to be fatigued. This went on for a few months with little trouble. Giorno did check up on you every once in a while even with his busy schedule. You could tell he was a little concerned, not that you minded of course. It was technically an assignment.

“She insists doing many things with me, her favorite thing is mostly picking cute clothes out” You told him promptly. Proceeding to go into details about brands she liked or the more expensive less “showy” things she could recognize.

“Do you know if she’s made any friends? Not that I entirely mind her being around you but she should be with others as well” He asks

“I believe I’ve seen her talk to a few people that weren’t sales associates, She doesn’t always tell me about things like that however” You responded. “I do have a gnawing feeling she really enjoys my company, perhaps a bit too much”

The blonde nodded in response “I thought as much, does that concern you?”

Your e/c eyes stare down at the floor, a brief pause in your breathing before you respond. “Somewhat yes, it’s been a couple months”

“I hope she can spread her wings and enjoy life on her own” You added on. “I do care for her Giorno, and I’ll look after her as long as she needs, though the thought does slip if that’s too much for her to properly adjust”

He nods along agreeing entirely, a bit stumped at the moment at this complex situation. You’re not really freaking out but there’s uncertainty in your eyes. Worrying if you’re subduing Trish, but as he sees it in his view, it’s the entire opposite. The dynamic is akin to an invasive plant, thriving with little impediment to its growth. Something that has to be taken care at the source before it swallows everything.

“I think I can keep this under control, I don’t need anyone else getting hurt” You stated out of nowhere.

“We have to be careful about this, Trish isn’t very fond of being looked over constantly by you Giorno”

His greenish eyes narrow “Of course, but I can’t have you facing this alone”

“I’m certain she’ll ask of this conversation when I pick her up from her visit to a store she’s been wanting to go to, She seems rather suspicious of you Giorno”

He looks at you, considering his options and what you’ll likely tell him based on your judgement of Trish. He trusts you just as he does Mista and dismisses you, and asks for an update in a couple of more months. For now he decides to lay out some options just on the off chance something goes too far. However this wasn’t your typical stand user battle, it was more of an emotional puzzle.

Later that evening you stop to pick up Trish right on the dot. She slid into the passenger seat quickly shut the door. Her eyes immediately dart to yours. “Do you mind if we get something to eat? I’m craving something from a restaurant I used to go to all the time”

“Sure we can do that” you tell her, before eventually driving off.

“So…how was that meeting?” She asks not even a few seconds after

“It was good” you tell her “I simply answered what Giorno was asking”

Her eyebrows furrowed “I know you need to update him, but I don’t think he should be prodding into everything we do together”

“He just wants to see how you’re holding up Trish, the things you went through aren’t exactly something an everyday person goes through” You try to pacify her

She shook her head adamantly, while crossing her arms “I doubt it, I think he’s concerned about you because he thinks I’m acting strange”

She wasn’t wrong and you weren’t going to foolishly deny that right in front of her. You reassured you didn’t inform of everything you both did together. Your “alone” time was still safe, but you could still see her lips pursed into a frown.

“I don’t think he should nose around at all if I’m being honest” She answered defensively but her demeanor of discontent wasn’t aimed at you. No, it seemed to be targeted towards Giorno. A twinge of jealousy perhaps? An odd thing for you to consider normally, but the way she was acting didn’t rule that out.

“I hope he knows I do talk to people other than you, but I don’t talk to them like I talk to you y/n” She sighs

There was an unsettling tone when she said that, she was stressing the meaning further than decent friends. You kept focus one the road, not really responding to keep your mind off that statement. False hope that you maybe misheard her somehow…

[flightfoot]

ML Fanfic Recs for 2023: 80K - 125K Words

So I’ve been going through and adding particularly good fics I’ve read throughout the year. Only Complete fics, of course. Enjoy!

---

Tell Me Why You Love Me by @linnieluna

“Anyway, that piece of paper contains the name of this texting app. It’s completely anonymous, so you can download it, make your account with no attachments to your personal life, and communicate with me outside our suits. I included my username on the paper, too, so you can add me once you’re done."

Her partner skimmed through the words on the paper and nodded his head. “Brilliant as always, M���lady. I’m surprised we didn’t figure this out sooner within our superhero careers.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been nice to have this before, but hey, better late than never. Make sure not to have your phone screen on the messages if you’re going to leave it somewhere. We don’t want anyone reading our texts. Also, this is for emergencies only. No jokes or puns. I can only deal with you for so long.”

“I don’t know if I can agree to that last one,” he said.

Now 22 and working full-time, Marinette and Adrien seem to be getting busier and busier, which means fewer opportunities to keep track of akumas and show up on time. With the idea of using a messaging app to communicate with each other without revealing their identities, their lives immediately grew to be easier... until it wasn't.

This starts off as a mostly slice-of-life fluff fic, but about halfway through things turn dramatic when Monarch learns some things he really shouldn’t and takes action. I had a lot of fun with it as it was coming out, it’s worth a read.

---

Kwami Magi Homura Magica by Crossoverpairinglover

After eighty-four loops in time, Homura Akemi takes a new path to Paris to save her friends.

The sixty-third loop after that, Homura arrived at the Agreste Mansion.

After clash after clash with the heroes of Paris and its greatest menace, events have reached a tipping point.

Ladybug faces someone verging on a second wish, a wish that endangers space and time to save a friend.

This was an absolutely AMAZING story that crossoverpairinglover dropped out of NOWHERE. Seriously, if you like Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Miraculous Ladybug, this is a real treat - but be prepared to sit down and binge, because it’s over 100,000 words and only has three chapters. 

Anyway, I adore the care that’s taken with going through Homura’s mindset here, she gets a lot of character focus. And the lore! There’s some good explanations here for the history behind kwamis and Incubators’ interactions, and the Order of the Guardians normally treats Magical Girls, and why the Incubators are wrong in their assessment of the universe needing more energy to stave off entropy (hint: it involves Plagg), and just... there was a lot of love put into this.

And the action! Most Miraculous fics don’t have much in the way of fight scenes, and what they do have is mostly just functional. This is one of the rare exceptions. There’s some really long, detailed fight scenes in this (roughly the entire second half of the second chapter has one between Ladybug and Homura), which are a treat to read! 

We also get some glimpses into a variety of other universes here, other timelines, alternate ways things could have gone down - I’m especially partial to the rather detailed view we get of one where Homura sent a message asking for help to the Ladyblog on her third time loop, and how things progressed from there. 

The ending I also thought was really good, a happy ending that generally made sense and dealt with the issue of the Incubators. 

If you can’t tell I’m really happy with this fic, it was incredible and unexpected. The length of the individual chapters can be daunting, but if you’re up for the task, I highly recommend giving it a shot!

---

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again.

How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own….

- COMPLETE FIC – updates on Sundays

*** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. About half of it is fluffy and half heavy. Please read tags for trigger warnings. ***

This fic can be rough, definitely pay attention to the tags. There’s no villains in this story, it mostly centers around themes of dealing with illness - both being sick and having a loved one who’s terminally ill - and death, grieving someone who’s lost, and how difficult that can be. It can get pretty gut-wrenching at times, especially as you slowly discover more layers of what’s really going on, what both Adrien and Marinette are hiding, both from others and from themselves in order to help cope with their circumstances. But they still move forwards together, regardless.

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Eventually by @lucid-ao3

Adrien’s life has been dictated by rules, monitored, and controlled for years. He has learned to compartmentalize. It’s not that bad. It always gets better, eventually. Doesn’t it?

Recovery can be an unexpected obstacle when you didn’t realize you were being hurt in the first place.

OR: How Adrien lives and copes with the emotional abuse inflicted on him over the years, and how he ultimately could overcome it.

If you want a good “Adrien doesn’t realize how abusive his father is but slowly buckles more and more under his tyranny, until things come to a head, and he actually gets the HELP HE NEEDS” fic, this is a good one!

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Between the Heavens and the Embers by @readersmoon

Everyone in Paris remembers the fateful night of January 16, when the city was attacked by the most powerful and destructive akuma ever created. The assault, which lasted for hours, resulted in the death of 439 people.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was among the casualties.

Years later, Adrien hasn't been able to move on, haunted by the memories of her broken body. So, when the opportunity to leave Paris for a while presents itself, he doesn't hesitate. But this trip might end up giving him more than he ever dreamt of.

This is a fantastic fic, though a serious and a dark one - make sure to mind the tags, and it’s M-rated for a reason. Vee - or rather, Marinette - is going through a horror story here. Imagine finding out that your life is a lie, that everyone you thought you could trust was manipulating you, that you were just being continually gaslit for years. 

As for Adrien, Alya, and Nino... well, none of them took Marinette’s “death” all that well, especially Adrien. Finding out that she’s been alive all this time, in these horrible circumstances, and they had no clue... it’s hard on them as well.

I love how this fic goes into how much trauma everyone has even after the immediate danger’s dealt with, you don’t just walk off this kind of experience, especially with how many years this lasted.

[extralively]

What would the CANON!Timeline characters reactions be to Yura and the UtCoS!Verse? Like say if Yura got transported to the canon world for some reason before Shibuya arc, or the first year's and CANON!Satoru somehow end up in the UtCoS!Verse before Shibuya. What would everyone's reactions be like? Both from the UtCoS!verse and the CANON!verse.

oh man, you got me thinking about it and it's just all sorts of sad! So I started writing and this became a sort of mini oneshot LMAO help

(This has not been properly proofread tho nor is it in my usual style, but I couldn't help myself!!)

So let's think up a scenario in which Yura is transported into canon circa early 2018 (let's not fret over the specifics lmao). At first, she's very confused when people she knows don't recognize her, and then it starts ringing alarm bells in her head when Satoru doesn't recognize her. And even worse, there's a weird pull towards this Satoru from her soul connection to him, but she can tell it's not him that she's attached to. Oops, she's in another universe somehow.

(Let's skip over all the drama of her trying to make everyone else believe her story and bam, they all do.)

Yura is not having a good time. Seeing the people she cares about not know who she is, seeing them lead a life without her around just makes her desperately miss home. Imagine there's some drama over them not knowing whether or not she could go back to her own universe, so Yura has to consider the possibility that she's permanently stuck in this world where all the history she had with everyone else has just been completely wiped out, and it's basically torture. To have the people she loves right there in front of her but also not be the same people that love her back would be just all sorts of painful to deal with.

Then we get into her learning what everyone else's lives have been like without her around, and if Yura was sad before, this makes her feel double sad--but this time, it's sad for them.

Tsumiki is still cursed, so that's a big blow to Yura, and learning that Tsumiki and Megumi didn't grow up with fun birthdays and holidays and happy family time like Yura remembered made her heart ache. Yura doesn't understand why this Satoru kind of kept his distance from them and only acted as a mentor figure to Megumi as opposed to her Satoru who stepped up as their legal guardian, and she has to face this reality where the Fushiguros were forced to grow up alone, like she had feared they would back home. And of course, once she tells this Megumi about all of it, even if he tries to keep his cool, he can't help but imagine a world where he and Tsumiki had a happy childhood for once. Yura shows him pictures of the four of them on her phone, and it somehow makes him feel weirdly nostalgic despite the fact that he hadn't lived this life at all. There's a strange longing inside of him over what he could have had, but he has to shake himself out of it because, to him, it's nothing but a fantasy.

Then we get to Satoru.

This Satoru is very much like her Satoru, but also not. His personality is still the same, but Yura knows him well enough by now to see the constant loneliness that weighs him down; that her Satoru has this kind of joy in him that this world's Satoru lacks. She learns that, without her, Satoru didn't really have anyone after Geto left, despite Shoko still being around, and it just kind of sends her spiraling thinking about what it must have been for him. She thinks about all the times that her Satoru would seek her out throughout the years, all the time they spent together--so what was it like for this Satoru? What did he do during summer at school when everyone else left and it was just him around? Who did he bother when he had a new movie he desperately wanted to watch or a new bakery he wanted to visit? How did he spend his birthdays after Geto was gone? When he overworked himself, who was there to tell him it was okay to take a break?

And when canon Satoru learns about their history in this alternate reality, he almost finds it too hard to believe. There's this strange woman telling him that they're best friends in this other universe, despite the fact that he'd never thought he'd have someone fill that position after Suguru was gone. And not just best friends, but something else--something the woman refuses to name, even though he starts to have an idea about what she may feel for this other Satoru from the way she talks about him.

(And pretending that the soul-binding ritual is a real thing in canon despite the fact that I made it up) She also turns out to be bound to someone in the Gojo clan using that old soul-binding ritual, judging from the mark on her chest. And not just someone, but him--and he would have to admit that he felt a strange tugging inside of him towards her, that she theorized it was because she was bound to his alternate self in this other universe of hers. Something something their souls were alike so her soul bond 'found' him, something something. First of all, why would he bind himself like that to anyone? That shit was serious, and archaic, and he never actually wanted to be married to anyone, let alone permanently married. But oh, she claimed they weren't married for real (c'mon, this is a marriage ritual) and that he only did that to save her life (were there no other alternatives??)

Still, when she shows him the photos and videos she has of them in her phone, Satoru is kind of entranced. There's her and him, but a different him, being all sorts of familiar with each other. There's a strange ease in the way they interacted with each other, videos of this other him making jokes at her as she played along, her being annoyed at him, him teasing her as they cuddled up in bed...

Yura promptly snatches her phone from him when he finds the racier pictures, but from what he'd seen, it looks like they had fun. But in general, Satoru has a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of this other universe, of this other life he could have had. In theory, there were countless other universes out there where anything could have happened, and he briefly entertains the thought of a universe where Suguru didn't leave them before he shakes himself out of it. Because there's this weird woman looking at him in a way that he's never had anyone look at him before, and it's throwing him off in a weird way.

Eventually, they find a way to send Yura back home. She feels relieved and is desperate to be back where she belongs, but she has a few things she has to do before she goes. First, she tries her best to break Tsumiki's curse like she'd done back home even if she still has no idea how she did that (she succeeds, because this might not be her Tsumiki, but it's still Tsumiki). Then, she tells Megumi to stay close to his sister, because they're family and family is always looking after each other--if they have no one else, they need to make sure they'll have one another. And at last, she has a few parting words to say to this Satoru.

She tells him to not be alone. He finds it a little funny, but she's serious. She says that he has so many people around him that care, and that he shouldn't shoulder everything himself because yes, she knows him well enough to know that that's exactly what he's been doing--being lonely is miserable, and she doesn't want that for any Satoru. She also asks him to keep a closer eye on the Fushiguros too, to get involved a little bit more--because as much as it would be good for them, it would be good for him too, she knows it. And finally... she tells him to be less of an idiot. Since she isn't around to keep his idiocy in check, he's gonna have to do it himself... or at the very least, rely on the people around him to do that for him.

Yura eventually goes back home. She feels pure relief at getting her life back, at being reunited with her Satoru, with her little family, but she can't help but feel a twinge of sadness thinking of everyone in this other universe and what their lives must have been like. Her Satoru then jokes that she made his life better just by existing... but also he's kinda serious. Yura finds it hard to wrap her head around that.

(...Also she notices that her phone went missing...)

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Listen. I started writing this and I couldn't stop. Shit, I love thinking up AUs of my own fanfiction lmaooo I'm in too deep

(I've been thinking a lot about an AU where Satoru doesn't propose the soul binding ritual to save her life but instead proposes an actual marriage instead. And let me tell you, things would have gone wildly different lmaoo think being made to live together to prove your marriage is for real. his family pushing for them to consume the marriage otherwise they would declare it a fake. them enjoying consuming the marriage a little too much and being confused about their own feelings. and oh, perhaps an accidental pregnancy oh THE DRAMA (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))