#you take out the real heart and soul of something being good:

[myblogisatotalmess]

MILD MOANA 2 SPOILERS AHEAD

I saw Moana 2 as a Polynesian person. I thought it was INCREDIBLE. I know many people already don't really like it, but I think it's because THIS specific movie, they went harder on the Polynesian culture.

The music is even more Polynesian, and written pretty much solely by Polynesian people. The culture is even more included in it's narrative and in the details, they show more tattoos, the Kava ceremony, speaking more of the Pacific Islander native languages, even some the humor is very Polynesian humor.

I personally really enjoyed the storyline, and I liked that it introduced a "morally gray" character to help guide Moana into realizing that you have to just embrace what's given to you. It's a great representation of what the ocean is. It's sometimes not as reliable and friendly as Moana expects it to be, and has grown accustomed to. So when she asks for the ocean's help and receives no answer, she's better prepared to face it as it comes, and adapt, and embrace it.

Not only that, but in terms of Polynesian deities, there isn't just one "good" or "bad". There are complicated morally gray deities. Pele, for instance, is a goddess known for volcanoes and destruction, but she is also known as creation and rebirth. The Earth is scorched by the flames and lava to make way for new land and healthier vegetation.

The songs aren't as "memorable" to those who aren't fully embracing the culture. For me, I got chills hearing the music. It felt authentic and from the heart and soul of the Polynesian people who sang it. Sure, many outside of the culture can't "sing along" to it, but that doesn't make it inherently bad, just because it's not marketable TO YOU.

For someone who's waited forever to have representation, and grew up with Lilo and Stitch being the only one (which wasn't that much in terms of representation.) To then seeing Moana come out when I was 16, and cried then. For then Moana 2 to come out tonight, and I cried AGAIN at 24 years old. My inner child was so excited to hear and FEEL what that representation sounds like, looks like, and means.

The original Moana was tippy-toeing into Polynesian culture, where it could still be marketable so everyone could enjoy it. Because they didn't want it to flop. It feels the same as a Polynesian person having to cater to tourists who only see the Polynesian culture as something they can exploit and be entertained by.

That doesn't mean that it was bad, it was moving tides in that time, and I would take that representation over the crumbs we've had before.

But this movie? Moana 2? This was for US. This was for the Polynesian cultures. This felt like a love letter to us, as a culture, to unite and know that we have community, and to feel seen, in all of our glory, and not a watered-down version to be "marketable" to others outside of our culture.

So, I expect people to not like it. But I also expect it to be because it's coming from a place where they don't understand how it feels to experience, love, embrace, learn, and educate others about Polynesian culture.

I love my culture, and I love my Polynesian siblings as a Kanaka Hawaiian. I love my Maori, Samoan, Tahitian, Tongan, etc. siblings. I love seeing a mix of all of our cultures come together and be represented.

For those who aren't a part of our culture, truly listen to our history and our struggles and successes. Educate yourself on how to be a better ally and find cultural appreciation (not appropriation) for our culture. We are real people with real stories. Not some fictional character (or Halloween costume/party favor/etc.) you can write off and only look at as "entertainment" and can only hold value when we're catering to you. That includes our music, our language, our dances, and our stories.

That's all for now. ❤️ I'll be willing to have adult, civil, conversations with others about differences in why you didn't enjoy it as much, but hate will be deleted and blocked. ❤️

[peppermintquartz]

for the prompt! CRASH THAT HELICOPTER! (i need to see yet again tommy being on the verge of death, and then being suprised buck and the 118 are by his side in the hospital.)

Something's gotten hold of my heart Keeping my soul and my senses apart

Tommy's consciousness kicks in grudgingly with Nick Cave's voice, but together with the song is a plethora of pain.

He opens his eyes. Grass, long grass. Some trees overhead. Broken branches, maybe. Daylight.

What was he doing before this? He's not in the habit of sleeping outside, he's done enough of that. Then he hears in the silence, a distance away, the unmistakable roar of fire.

Ah. He'd jumped. The bird had wrenched itself free of his control; some wires had not held or maybe there was an error in the chips. Whatever it is, he had to jump.

He can't feel any heat, so that is at least a good sign he landed far from it. But fire travels faster than most people think.

Breathing is hard. Acute, stabbing pains. Likely broken ribs.

His toes wiggle when he tells them to. So do the fingers of his right hand. His left hand screams at him when he tries to move it and his vision blacks out.

It takes another monumental effort to climb back to consciousness.

Radio, he thinks inanely. Gotta call for help.

He doesn't have a functional radio. At least he can roll onto his less injured side - fighting nausea and agony every inch of the way - and look.

Black smoke billows up in a thick column. There are other birds in the sky surveying the area, Tommy remembers. They'll call it in.

They may never find Tommy though. He's some distance away.

No matter. There are worse ways to go.

Tommy is exhausted. He slips his right hand into his pocket and lets Nick Cave sing him back into unconscious slumber.

In a world that was small I once lived in a time there was peace with no trouble at all But then you came my way And a feeling unknown shook my heart, made me want you to stay All of my nights and all of my days

He registers the beeping of the machines before the floaty numbness of his body, and under that, a deep lake of pain to be dealt with.

There's warmth over his right hand.

He fades again.

I've got to know if this is the real thing I've got to know what's making my heart sing

The second time he surfaces, he hears low conversation. People he knows that he knows, but can't name.

His right hand is still warm and he closes his fingers as best as he can.

"He's waking up," someone says. The voice is rough-edged, tired. Tommy wants to cuddle it.

Each eyelid weighs a thousand tons. He struggles anyway.

And he is greeted with a concerned Evan, holding onto his right hand. Behind Evan is Chimney.

Tommy looks at himself as best as he can. He has so many tubes attached to different parts of him. He has a mask over his face, and the sound of his breathing is unnaturally loud.

Tommy blinks at Evan, and tears roll down his face. Evan squeezes his hand. Chimney disappears from view, texting into his phone as he goes.

"He's telling everyone you pulled through," Evan says, smiling. His big blue eyes are bright and fatigued. He has the beginnings of a full beard. That's not regulation.

Feeling the tug of sleep again, Tommy blinks a few more times at the man he loves.

"I know. Rest. Get better." Evan picks up the limp right hand and kisses the back of it. "We'll have time to talk."

You smile and I am lost for a lifetime Each minute spent with you is the right time Every hour, every day You touch me and my mind goes astray

[aithusarosekiller]

I saw your Jegulus post about them not being the typical teenage romance and can I just give you a double high five in agreement! I then HAD to find one of many moments I've written for them which exemplify this and share it with you. And this one is the one I settled on. Remus' POV, year five for the Marauders, year four for Regulus. Context is, this is the first time Remus has spent time with James and Regulus together after discovering their secret relationship. It's James' birthday and Lily wants James occupied all day so she can prep for his party. Lily also knows about James and Regulus BTW, makes contextual sense in the story (Sirius does not know, doesn't apply to this scene though).

Hope you enjoy. :)

>>><<<

There were people who loved each other, like Remus loved Sirius. He would have handed Sirius his body, heart, and soul. He loved him with every ounce of his being. And yet… There were people who loved each other, and then there was James and Regulus.

Remus could think of no other way to describe it. They weren’t two hearts beating for each other. They were the void between heartbeats. They occupied the infinitesimal moment as an inhale became an exhale. They were two people, who shared a single soul. And being around them was both intoxicating and strange. Remus felt like if he breathed too hard in their direction he’d mess with their air, which was exactly perfect between them as their breaths mingled. For surely two people so melded would only breathe the air of the other. And then they would poke fun at each other and their aura would brighten, literally bringing each into sharper visual focus, before it blurred again as they melted back into each other. 

They didn’t even have to be touching (though they nearly always were) for this phenomenon to take place. And for half the day Remus thought he was merely groggy from the Pamoja wielding. He thought his brain was sending him confused signals as he watched James and Regulus be James and Regulus. 

But a massive lunch, plenty of teenage goofing off, and exploring the surrounding forest left him with a very clear mind and the same mental signals. At which point Remus decided James and Regulus were an exhibition in their own category of relationship, absolutely unique to them. Love was not the word he would use to describe them. It was so much more. They filled the spaces no one else even noticed. And it merged their existence into a single organism. 

It was fucking intense. 

After they parted ways, as James and Remus continued up to the castle together, Remus said tentatively, “hey, so is it always like that?”

“What do you mean?” asked James absently. 

“Er, do you really not know.”

James glanced over at him. “It’s always like that, yeah.”

“Bloody hell.” Remus couldn’t get a good read on James’ face for they were walking side by side, but he thought James might be smiling. “I knew he had to be something special and way more substantial than he looks to withstand your affection, but Godric James. I don’t even know what to call that. I’m not sure it’s physically sustainable.”

“He’s my star.”

“Mate, he’s your fucking universe.”

James playfully threw out an elbow and definitely didn’t look at Remus. 

“What can I say, we are infinite. Don’t look so scandalized, you and Sirius aren’t so different.”

“No, we are very different. We exist in the physical world James. You two are already way out there in your own orbit.”

“See why I can’t lose him.”

They took several paces before Remus spoke.

“James, I’m scared for you. That kind of connection has to be dangerous.”

“Want to stop and have a smoke?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth mate.”

<3

JUST REMEMBERED I HAD THIS IN MY INBOX FOR AGES I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS

But honestly it's one of my favourite things about them, the poetic quality makes it feel like they're finding each other again just when they need it at the same time as we're finding them when WE need it, you know?

That's so real though, the idea of the two of them being able to almost spiritually feed off of each other's presence is so true. Like existence is centred around them for a moment. They take over everything.

And it's probably bad in the long run but it's so beautiful that the pain is okay. Because without all of the painful bits, were the good parts really all that valuable?

Also I love your style, it feels real and almost factual if that makes sense? Even when you're describing metaphysical aspects the certainty gives a strong feeling of truth and rationality. I like it.

[p0rchc0ll4ps3]

I'm going to be completely goddamned honest with you here

If it's not set in elysium, I do not fucking want it

[brazilian-vampyra]

៹ ☆ MUSIC TO FUCK TO ! ꞌꞋ ࣪

(english)

⟡— synopsis: songs that jujutsu characters would listen to while having sex with you.

⟡— characters: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna and toji fushiguro.

⟡— warnings: raw sex (please use condoms), rough sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia, oral, fingering, male dom, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, alcohol use (only mentioned), size kink, fem!reader.

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗡����𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𖹭︐

IT IS COMMON SENSE to agree that this man exudes elegance and luxury, in addition to having refined taste — despite his life as a salaryman.

Kento likes to enjoy quality time where he can relax and rest listening to something peaceful, real music for his discerning ears. So he bought a rustic record player in a vintage store that had opened downtown. With that, he could leave the music boxes and headphones aside, enjoying the various vinyls that were on the shelf in his living room.

He loves jazz and blues.

It was a peaceful Friday night, and his apartment was quiet, with the record player playing. You just had a few glasses of wine and enjoyed some cuddling on the black leather sofa. But every time you took a sip of the expensive wine, the contents seemed to go down your throat and straight to your legs.

It seems that your favorite blonde felt the same way, and it didn't take long for the innocent late-night caresses to evolve into heated, intimate touches.

Now you were in the bedroom. Your back was on the comfortable mattress and your hands gripped the silk sheets as your boyfriend held your legs on his shoulders. He held on tight, moving his hips against you. Your clothes were scattered around the house and you were completely surrendered to the heat, feeling it hit your core perfectly.

Nanami's hoarse moans were mixed with the sensual notes of "Sometimes I'm Right" by Hubert Sumlin.

The blonde held your legs, close to the knees, at the end of your thighs, keeping you still so he could be more precise with his hips. His beautiful eyes seemed to look into your soul, intoxicated by the growing desire that made your heart race. The dim orange light from the bedside lamp shone on his athletic body, giving you a perfect view of those muscles.

━━ B-Babe... please... stop torturing me... — you asked in a plea, for him to move his hips faster.

A hoarse, sarcastic soft laugh left his lips.

━━ Oh kitten, you have to stop being so hasty... — he placed a hot, sensual kiss on your ankle. ━━ You know me, you know I like to taste every little part of you...

This was an absolute truth. For him, it didn't matter if the sex was going to be slow and sensual or rough and fast. The most important thing was to be able to enjoy every last second with you in that intimate moment.

At a certain point he moved his hips a little further and then thrust in quickly, all at once. This time you cried out in pleasure.

━━ Always being a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well...

This blonde was madly in love with you.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

WE CAN ALL AGREE that this man is one of the most promiscuous on Earth, right?

The strongest have a very strong sexual aura, and all women — even some men — wondered what it must be like to sleep with Satoru. That was a question you never wondered for long, as he had developed a notable interest in you.

He can make jokes all day long, he can take some situations in a more playful way and all that stuff, but when it comes to sex he is super serious. Although life seems simple for the strongest sorcerer in the world, he gets stressed about a lot of things on a daily basis, and there is no one who can help him relieve all of that as well as you can.

You've already fucked in many places, listening to the most varied artists, but in more intimate moments there is a specific artist that he likes to listen to more than the others: Two Feet.

Maybe it was because of the melodic tone, or the acidic guitar notes, or even his engaging voice, but Gojo loved listening to him.

Now you are in the bathroom, listening to "Love Is a Bitch".

Your back was against the tiled wall, and the ideal temperature hot water ran down your bodies, while your boyfriend held your thighs, getting support so he could thrust his hips slowly. You moaned against each other's parted lips, and he sucked your lower lip shamelessly. The steam from the hot water filled the room, along with your moans and the sounds of this sensual melody.

Although the sex wasn't rough this time, it was slow and deep. He could make your mind go wild by moving his hips like that.

━━ Hell yeah, babe... that feels so fucking good...

He groaned in your ear, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed.

━━ I can't get enough of you- ugh! S-Satoru... please...

Hearing this he bit the sensitive skin on your neck, making you whimper louder. He felt the soft taste of the chamomile soap that he had rubbed over your body with a soft sponge a few minutes ago.

You didn't let this go unpunished and brought a hand to the back of his neck, grabbing the wet white strands, pulling a little, making those piercing blue eyes look into your irises. A mischievous smile was plastered on his lips.

━━ You'll be the death of me someday...

The sorcerer wasn't lying every time he said you were his strongest weakness.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

THIS MAN IS much more reclusive when it comes to his particularities. But you noticed that he was almost always smoking around, while wearing his headphones and having black strands of hair thrown across his face.

Maybe it was hard to tell what he liked to hear, he was so quiet. His voice was soft, he wasn't as "scandalous" as Gojo Satoru, Geto was always a guy who had his own vibe. However, he really liked listening to rock, especially alternative and indie.

You started getting closer when he saw you in the park, it was summer and you were under his favorite tree, reading a book you had gotten from the library and listening to some music on your headphones. He had no problem "sharing" his favorite space with someone else.

There was the beginning of your friendship with that beautiful boy with siren eyes. And it didn't take long for this friendship to evolve into a beautiful relationship — thanks to a little help from Satoru.

It was now a rainy afternoon in the city, not as cold as it seemed. You were lying on his bed, your panties were probably on top of some random pillow and he had his head buried between your legs. Drops of rain wet the window glass and you saw the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees, but you couldn't pay much attention while he was eating you out.

There was something very addictive about your pussy, something that not even he could say what it was, but he was on his knees for it. Literally.

"Knee Socks" by the band Arctic Monkeys was playing.

You were wearing one of Geto's shirts, which had the fabric pulled up, exposing your stomach and breasts. White socks that reached just above your knee covered your legs, which were draped over his shoulders.

━━ Uhmm... this pussy is so fucking delicious, darling — he groaned against your body, while his skillful tongue worked on you.

Suguru's soft lips also moved in sync, making you want to close your legs. You pressed your thighs against his head and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin. Immediately those big cold ringed hands of his went to the sides of your thighs, squeezing a little and holding them open so he could rub his face there.

━━ S-Suguru! Yes, babe! Yes!

You screamed slyly, taking a hand to his soft, long black hair, squeezing and pulling a little. He really liked that and would never deny it.

━━ Like this?

He asked, in a hushed tone of voice, as you felt him slide two fingers on your wet sex and penetrate, sliding easily, curved slightly upwards to reach a spot that made you scream. He used his mouth again, but this time on your clit as the rhythmic chords of the music played, mixing with your needy moans, his muffled moans and the erotic, wet sounds.

This man is your deepest desire.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𖹭︐

THIS HELL OF A MAN is a walking question mark. He really was a big unknown, but unfortunately — or luckily — for him, you loved solving puzzles.

Toji wasn't the most "difficult" person you had ever met, but he was certainly the most reserved. He didn't talk about the past, about life, he didn't express his feelings, he didn't share personal tastes and there was no way he would spit out the secrets he carried behind his frown. But, despite everything, that wall of muscles could talk about some things that wouldn't expose his particularities so much.

For example, you once brought up a topic about musical taste, a very vague and silly subject, but it was the starting point for you to approach him. Yes, it was much more varied and had much more culture than you expected.

It was perfectly eclectic.

He really liked listening to music when he was fucking too. You were in his room, with the neon light on, not too strong and not too weak, illuminating the room and your features in a shade of blue mixed with purple. The soft bed's sheets were a little wet due to the obscene and intimate acts being performed on top.

You were on all fours, your palms and knees serving as support so you were comfortable. It was playing "Hotel" by Montell Fish.

Toji was right behind you, with that beautiful physique exposed and illuminated by the neon light, that made everything more arousing. He thrust his hips roughly against your ass, and this caused the erotic sound of your bodies to echo throughout the room. His big, strong hands were holding your waist tightly; maybe it would leave some marks.

━━ Now that's a pussy... hmm... so fuckin' tight around my cock, am I too big for your poor little hole to handle, my angel?

He practically growled, followed by a rude laugh, in a bitter tone.

━━ I-I can handle! — you replied, in a desperate tone, lowering your head a little.

Immediately Fushiguro took one hand from your waist and reached for your hair, holding it in a sloppy way. This caused you to whimper and look at the huge mirror there.

━━ No, no. Don't look away... keep watching the way I ruin you!

You would be completely destroyed afterwards, but it would be so worth it, just like it was every time before.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗢 𖹭︐

HAVING A SHY BOYFRIEND could be difficult for other people, but it wasn't so much for you. It's okay when you approached him you didn't have much to talk about, since he didn't do "mundane" things like everyone else did.

Curses generally didn't listen to music or watch cartoons and go to parties, as is normal to see human beings doing. He was also very inexperienced in several aspects, because despite having centuries of years, he didn't do much and didn't interact with people in general.

But he had no problem learning from you.

You introduced Choso to music little by little, first you started by showing him what you liked and then you started introducing him to what he might like. This worked out really well, as little by little he began to accept this as something natural and listened to music more frequently.

Kamo discovered that he really likes rock and metal, and is now willing to learn how to play the guitar. Maybe that's a topic for another time, the most important thing is what you were doing at that moment.

The song "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" was playing, it was originally by The Smiths, but the version that flooded the room was by Deftones. He had put together a playlist full of songs with this theme that walked a fine line between being horny or going into depression.

You were riding him in reverse cowgirl. The elastics that held Choso's hair had come loose a long time ago and now he had his black hair loose, framing his face. He was panting and begging beneath you, his hands on your hips, squeezing your ass a little, watching as you moved it up and down at a slow yet very satisfying pace.

Since he was still a bit inexperienced, he had no problem letting you be in charge most of the time. And you loved having the honor of being on top of that beautiful and arousing man. You could hear the sound of your bodies along with your boyfriend's moans and the whimpers of the Deftones singer, as well as the distorted guitar riffs.

Without any prior warning, you began to move your body faster.

━━ F-Fuck, my love! If you keep this up I'm gonna cum inside of you! — he whimpered as you felt his cock twitch against your walls.

━━ But that's exactly what I want, silly.

You looked back with a wicked smile on your lips, seeing his pale cheeks completely flushed and his strong chest going up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 𖹭︐

THE GREAT KING OF CURSES was an ambitious man, who desired greatness and power at all times. He did not accept anything that was different from the standard he was used to receiving as a powerful and feared entity.

He was not at all monogamous, he was used to having several women in what would have been a harem. He was insatiable, a ferocious beast who depended on sex as one of his main sources of fuel. However, now Sukuna had to get used to the modern world, whether he wanted to or not.

Curses were no longer respected or feared, as sorcerers were on hand to fight them. By the irony of fate, you ended up crossing paths and since that day there was no concubine to feed his desires, he only wanted you. Despite the countless declarations of love coming from him and all his talk, you weren't easy.

You didn't sleep easily with anyone, even more if this person was him.

But he was a trickster, he wasn't the king of curses for nothing. He approached you with that soft talk and that naughty way until you were finally able to create a bond. But flirting with people in the modern era was a bit tricky for a man who had been away for many, many years.

You introduced music to Sukuna, and over time he became more fond of it. He really liked rock and classical music, they were two different extremes, but who were you to question the taste of the king of curses?

Although when he was fucking you he wouldn't listen to Mozart or anything like that.

You were in his castle, in a room filled with the most diverse and luxurious tapestries. There were extremely comfortable cushions and silk sheets everywhere, as well as treasures, pillars and chests. Sukuna was on top of you, his naked body full of symbols a little sweaty and his gaze devouring you.

Your legs were comfortably crossed around his hips, while those strong hands with purple nails grabbed your wrists and pinned them high above your head, leaving you immobilized. He had a rough pace and really loved every little inch of you, every time.

The song "One Of The Girls" by The Weeknd was playing. That song had a very strong sexual atmosphere, and that made him even more likely to fuck you.

You felt some of his pub hair touching your skin every time he moved back and forth with his hips. He was thrusting deep inside you, making you tear up from so much pleasure you were receiving. That was a the best thing in the world for that sadist who found it adorable to see the salty tears running down your hot cheeks as you begged for relief.

He knew he wasn't hurting you — because if you indicated he would stop instantly. You changed Sukuna a lot, took away from him that kingly immediacy that he possessed, and above all consent was sexy as hell.

━━ Baby... I-I don't know if I can cum any more... — you cried out, because he had already made you cum several times today, you didn’t know if your body could take any more.

━━ Aww, are you so sensitive that you are crying, my princess? — a sadistic smile was on his lips while those red eyes seemed to be darker from the lust flowing through his veins.

━━ Y-Yes...

━━ But you are a very obedient princess, and I know I can make you cum again. You don't need to control yourself and give it to me again. I'm only going to stop when this pussy is squirting all over my cock, understood?

He took one hand off your wrist and brought it to your face, squeezing your cheeks a little and making you nod. With your free hand, you pulled him closer to kiss him intensely, making your tongues touch each other in a bold way.

He had found his other half.

[...]

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄¹: this is my first time posting something in english on tumblr, and as it's not my first language i'd appreciate it if you could correct any grammar mistakes˚. ᵎᵎ

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄²: all of this is created by me, i do not authorize adaptations or inspirations without credits˚. ᵎᵎ

XOXO, kisses that taste like blood o negative, see you next time little bats 💋

— brazilian-vampyra, 2024.

[evilminji]

You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?

That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.

But!!!

WHAT IF?

They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?

Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.

Riot in the streets.

Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-

Ah.

So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.

One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.

It Fiiiiine, Sam.

He's just here to Talk.

He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.

ON LIVE TELEVISION.

He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~

"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!

And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"

*drops mic*

Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.

Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.

The press secretary faints.

PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!

Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!

And Danny?

Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~

If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.

Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.

(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[p1utofairy]

★ WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT IN REGARDS TO YOUR LOVE LIFE?

NOTE: miss me? hehe. i felt called to answer the bat signal (i saw y’alls messages in my ask box ILYSM) take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. thank y’all for the support always. 🫂

PILE ONE.

ooo this fall i do see a very solid romantic connection coming into fruition for you, pile 1. there’s such a high level of comfortability between you both it’s sooooo sweet and endearing. you could already be friends with this person, but if that’s not the case, they will be your best friend and lover wrapped into one. diary by alicia keys is coming to mind – wow! the energy is very sensual and venusian-like. maybe you or this person has taurus and/or libra placements? you two connect on such a deep spiritual level. i can just feel it, pile 1. opening up to this person will be so easy for you, which is crazy because i feel like you’re not vulnerable/open with just ANYBODY.

lay your head on my pillow, here you can be yourself. no one has to know what you are feeling, no one but me and you. OKAY BYE I’LL CRY RN?! the emotions between you two run very deep & i feel like you both will create such a calm, intimate and loving space for each other. this connection will be so healing — i’m picking up that either you or your person never truly knew what it felt like to have a strong support system or someone in your corner through thick and thin, but let me tell you something, pile 1. you and your person will show up and out for each other!

you might be a bit defensive or standoffish towards this person at first, because you’re afraid of being hurt or let down once again. however, i want you to know that it’s okay to open your heart and be receptive. some of you that picked this pile might have a scorpio moon, because i’m picking up that it’s really hard to knock down that wall you have built around yourself. this person wants to take the time out to get to know you, the REAL you, and all your little quirks and interests because there’s more that meets the eye when it comes to you. i feel like you compartmentalize different aspects and traits within yourself & suppress them to conform to what others think you should be/should act like — but your person is saying f*ck that. they are going to love you in all your glory.

i’m ngl you could see yourself settling down with this person. they’ll fulfill you in so many ways that others can't even imagine or measure up to. this person is going to take care of you & splurge on you. they have very dominant energy and you’re going to love that about them lol for some of you might f*ck around and have a baby with this person. for a small portion of this pile, they might already have a child from a previous relationship. if that’s not the case though, you’re just going to love how hands on they are with you (literally hehe) & how they take the lead and make all your dreams come true. your person also has a lot of sexual energy lol in the best way possible. it’s so sly and lowkey but you’ll be folding like a pretzel pile 1 LOL.

channeled messages:

pov by ariana grande, free mind by tems, touch my body by mariah carey, you’re the only one that i want, dangerously in love pt. 2 by beyoncé.

PILE TWO

i think you need to get yourself out there a little moreeee, pile 2. i think that you’ll have more opportunities to meet new people and have some fun experiences, but it’s up to you to go out there and mingle. you’ve been keeping to yourself for a while now and there’s nothing wrong with that. pulling your energy back & recharging is good for the soul, but you also need to step into your power and claim what’s yours. remember – whatever you want, wants you even more. you’re glowing tf up this fall, pile 2.

you’re definitely elevating and so many people are going to peep it, especially romantic suitors. get out of your heads my lovely pile 2’s and open your mind + your heart to the limitless possibilities and opportunities that await you. you downplay yourself too much! TALK YOUR SHIT. you’re gonna have a couple love interests trying to get your attention & shooting their shot and it might throw you off, but just go with it. f*ck it, the more the merrier. lol i’m kidding but seriously have some fun!

you’ll know who is worth the chance and who isn’t. some of you that picked this pile might be a little inexperienced when it comes to relationships/love, so you just need some side quests and test runs to decipher what you do and don’t like lol. i’m also picking up a situation-ship vibe from this pile as well – some of you might have a lot of options but all you can think about is one specific person. you might not be talking to them right now, but your guides don’t want you to worry too much about them. focus on how you can create the reality you want for yourself. you’re the main character of your story, don’t be a perpetual side character in somebody else’s. i’m getting a lot of different messages for this pile, but one of the main things that’s sticking out to me is that whoever you pick/choose to entertain, you will have intense sexual chemistry with that person lol. you won’t be able to fight it hehe it’ll be the start of something new and exciting, pile 2.

channeled messages:

body by summer walker, go out with your friends, lemon drop, out of my head lupe fiasco ft. trey songz.

PILE THREE.

oh my, pile 3. did y’all just get out of a relationship or situationship? it’s really giving that. i think you need to work on becoming more grounded, and enforce healthy boundaries with your romantic partners and just everyone in general tbh. you’re so giving and nurturing. you’re always pouring into others, but where are they when it’s time to pour into you? you’ve had to come to terms with this the hard way :( people think that because you’re so compassionate and forgiving that they can walk all over you. this feeling of frustration has bubbled up inside of you for so long now, that it makes you feel pessimistic when it comes to love.

your guides want you to release this energy and not let it set you back or deter you from opening yourself up to a new partner that can and will cherish you. your love is very powerful – you are a REAL lover! if you get knocked down, you’ll rise up 10x stronger. please remember that always. your love is divine, it’s pure and it’s simply addicting; that’s why people felt like they could just take and take and take without you saying anything to them. the person that you were previously connected to knows you have a good heart, but they don’t value it. i am very happy to let you know that there is a special someone out there that will, and they are coming towards you.

they will claim you loud & proud and be so greatful to have you in their life and by their side. your person is so encouraging and kind, yet a lil rough around the edges – you almost wouldn’t expect this from them. they’re definitely going to match your freak lol. physical touch + words of affirmation might be their love language too btw. i think you need to let go of your ex/previous situationship, and take a leap of faith into the unknown with this new person. their love will feel so freeing and refreshing <3 the love between you both will hold no bounds. you deserve this pile, 3.

channeled messages:

wait for you by future ft. drake & tems, i’ll be there for you/you're all i need by method man ft. mary j blige, maddy perez, mula, ketu-moon aspect, anything by SWV, the weekend by sza.

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / masterlist

You wake to the sound of drapes swishing open.

Up on your elbows, you blink furtively. The room, your room, is plucked from the darkness, the long emerald colored tapestries pulled to the side to reveal sunlight.

There’s a woman in your room. Not much older than you, tying them back before turning to face you with a nervous smile. “Good morning.”

“Good… morning?” Who is she? What is she doing here?

“I’m Ana. I’ve brought your breakfast.” There’s a tray on the table, across the room. You can see steam rising from where you’re sitting up, half swallowed in a sea of blankets and pillows.

“Ana…” you say her name slowly, rolling it around in your mouth and then glance at the door. “Thank you for the breakfast but… I actually need to get home.” Her brow puckers.

“I’m sorry but… I'm only here to bring you breakfast” What? “You’re to eat,” she hesitates, “and stay here.” Your muscles still hold the memory of running, tromping through the woods in a panic, shaky steps too clumsy to carry you far enough away. How long ago was that? A day? Days?

“Please. You have to help me.” You fold over the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, reaching for her, but she jerks away.

“I’m sorry.” She repeats again. You eye the door. “I wouldn’t. The door locks automatically from the outside, and requires a key code.” Panic grips your throat. You’re trapped, you’re really trapped, they’re kidnapping you, it’s real, this-

“I have to get out of here.”

“You should eat,” she whispers, eyes wide and sweet like a puppy’s.

“I can’t. I’m too preoccupied with the fact I’ve been kidnapped.” You snark, and her mouth tightens.

“From what I understand, which is not much admittedly, is you’re being kept here for your own protection.” She backs away, carefully, watching where you sit on the edge of the bed, stricken. Your heart is sinking in your chest, down through your stomach and to the floor, squeezing in on itself so tight it may turn to pulp.

“Please, you can help me. You got in here, right? So you know the key code, you can-“ The door swings open. An unfamiliar man stands on the threshold, gun on his hip, charcoal black henley accentuating his arms.

“Ana.” He rumbles, and without another word or a look back, she scurries towards the door.

“Sorry Mr. Keller.” She squeaks, and he smiles at her, kindly. It confuses you.

“It’s alright. Go see if Mags needs anything.” He glances your direction, and then before you can protest, swings the door closed. The handle whirs until there’s a satisfying click of a lock.

All is silent.

Another tray is delivered midday, and then as the sun starts to set, a third.

You leave them untouched.

It’s not really a hunger strike, more so lack of appetite. A week ago, you would have murdered someone for this kind of food, quality, hot, heaping portions. Overstuffed sandwich with chips, roasted chicken pie with gravy and perfectly cooked vegetables. It should make your mouth water, but it only succeeds in turning your stomach.

Your face stays buried in a pillow for hours. Hiding under the blankets like a child, you cry until there’s nothing left, agony shredding your soul, lowering you down into a dark well filled with hopelessness.

Kidnapped. You’ve been kidnapped.

Or, well. Woman-napped. You guess.

Ana arrives an hour after the dinner tray is dropped off, and you hear her huff as she takes into the full plate.

You ignore her.

“Miss, I really think Mr. Riley and MacTavish would be happier if you tried to eat something.” Happier? They'd be happier? You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth to keep yourself from snapping at her. It's not her fault, you think.

“‘m not hungry, thanks though.” You’re curled up in the fetal position, faced away from her, and she sighs.

The door clicks closed. You’re alone with dusk, and it drags you down with the horizon, eyes slipping closed as the last orange light flickers over the trees.

The light at your bedside clicks on in the middle of the night. You wake slowly to it, forgetting again where you are, what's happened, flanked by two shadows, full conscious coming with the reminder that you're trapped in this room.

When you finally get your bearings, you realize the two shadows are your captors, barely illuminated by the pale orange lamp.

"Ye didnae eat anything all day." Johnny murmurs from his spot on the bed, by your hip.

“I want to go home.” Your pillow is tucked to your chest, a stuffed barrier between you and them, the only line you can draw however flimsy.

“Ye cannae doe, we’ve discussed this.”

“Please.” Your voice cracks on the tears trailing down your cheeks, and you sniffle. “Please. I won’t tell anyone.” He shakes his head.

“How about we get you something to eat?” Simon’s voice is more gentle in the dark it seems, cotton corners wrapping the beginning and end of each word, lilting upward with his question.

Reality slowly webs at the corners of your vision. You’re not getting out of here. You’re their prisoner until they say otherwise.

You’re fucked.

The despondency swells into a lump in the back of your throat. “I’m… I’m scared of you, I’m scared period. I want to GO HOME.”

“We know.”

“There’s ice cream in the kitchen.” You can hear Simon’s smirk in the dark, and he sighs. “You’re not going home, doe. At least not right now. So you can sit here and suffer, and be hungry, or you can have a little snack before we put you back in bed.” Johnny’s- you think, hand pats your thigh.

Your resolve crumbles, falls apart long enough that you allow yourself to consider something to eat, something sweet, even. “Fine.” You huff. “But this isn’t over. You can’t just keep me here. I will fight, I will run.” Simon laughs.

“Run all you want, but you’ll still end up back here.”

[eelhound]

"I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War [fantasy archetype], by not taking sides.

The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek — maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people.

Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use; I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. But Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted.

Whether war itself can rise to tragedy, can enlarge and exalt the soul, I leave to those who have been more immediately part of a war than I have. I think some believe that it can, and might say that the opportunity for heroism and tragedy justifies war. I don’t know; all I know is what a poem about a war can do. In any case, war is something human beings do and show no signs of stopping doing, and so it may be less important to condemn it or to justify it than to be able to perceive it as tragic.

But once you take sides, you have lost that ability.

Is it our dominant religion that makes us want war to be between the good guys and the bad guys?

In the War of Good vs. Evil there can be divine or supernal justice but not human tragedy. It is by definition, technically, comic (as in The Divine Comedy): the good guys win. It has a happy ending. If the bad guys beat the good guys, unhappy ending, that’s mere reversal, flip side of the same coin. The author is not impartial. Dystopia is not tragedy.

Milton, a Christian, had to take sides, and couldn’t avoid comedy. He could approach tragedy only by making Evil, in the person of Lucifer, grand, heroic, and even sympathetic — which is faking it. He faked it very well.

Maybe it’s not only Christian habits of thought but the difficulty we all have in growing up that makes us insist justice must favor the good.

After all, 'Let the best man win' doesn’t mean the good man will win. It means, 'This will be a fair fight, no prejudice, no interference — so the best fighter will win it.' If the treacherous bully fairly defeats the nice guy, the treacherous bully is declared champion. This is justice. But it’s the kind of justice that children can’t bear. They rage against it. It’s not fair!

But if children never learn to bear it, they can’t go on to learn that a victory or a defeat in battle, or in any competition other than a purely moral one (whatever that might be), has nothing to do with who is morally better.

Might does not make right — right?

Therefore right does not make might. Right?

But we want it to. 'My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'

If we insist that in the real world the ultimate victor must be the good guy, we’ve sacrificed right to might. (That’s what History does after most wars, when it applauds the victors for their superior virtue as well as their superior firepower.) If we falsify the terms of the competition, handicapping it, so that the good guys may lose the battle but always win the war, we’ve left the real world, we’re in fantasy land — wishful thinking country.

Homer didn’t do wishful thinking.

Homer’s Achilles is a disobedient officer, a sulky, self-pitying teenager who gets his nose out of joint and won’t fight for his own side. A sign that Achilles might grow up someday, if given time, is his love for his friend Patroclus. But his big snit is over a girl he was given to rape but has to give back to his superior officer, which to me rather dims the love story. To me Achilles is not a good guy. But he is a good warrior, a great fighter — even better than the Trojan prime warrior, Hector. Hector is a good guy on any terms — kind husband, kind father, responsible on all counts — a mensch. But right does not make might. Achilles kills him.

The famous Helen plays a quite small part in The Iliad. Because I know that she’ll come through the whole war with not a hair in her blond blow-dry out of place, I see her as opportunistic, immoral, emotionally about as deep as a cookie sheet. But if I believed that the good guys win, that the reward goes to the virtuous, I’d have to see her as an innocent beauty wronged by Fate and saved by the Greeks.

And people do see her that way. Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal.

I don’t know if such nobility of mind (in the sense of the impartial 'noble' gases) is possible to a modern writer of fantasy. Since we have worked so hard to separate History from Fiction, our fantasies are dire warnings, or mere nightmares, or else they are wish fulfillments."

- Ursula K. Le Guin, from No Time to Spare, 2013.

[hanaonesflower]

“Princess, can I ask you something?” He speaks, breaking the silence of the long, uneventful car ride. “Sure, anything!” You chirp, unsuspecting of what is to come.

“Why don’t you ever let me do anything for you?” Ushijima says, his eyes remain fixated on the long stretch of roads ahead. The fog heavily roll down the sides the hills on your either sides, lowering visibility. His hand tightens around the wheel, while the other grips yours.

“What do you mean by that?” You sit back, eyes wandering his features, looking for any sign that he’s just cheerfully asking you. Knowing Ushi though, he’s sometimes not as light hearted as you’d think.

“You are always so insistent on doing everything yourself. You won’t let me help you, like earlier, when you refused to let me tie your shoes. That isn’t the first time you refused my help.” He goes on a spiel, his thumb reaches to the toggle and lowers the volume, making his breathing more prominent than ever. It has occur to you that you have always been doing everything by yourself despite his looming figure always by your side. The hyperindependence is slowly starting to bother him. He wants to help you, wants to give you the fullest extent of a princess treatment yet the only thing really holding him back from that is, you.

“It’s just something that I could easily have done for myself, you didn’t need to bother with that, don’t worry, baby,” you try to comfort him, hoping some words of affirmation can help. It really isn’t a big deal, it’s some shoe laces that came undone, not a heavy errand.

As soon as the car is pulled into a parking spot at a rest stop, quickly shifting the car in “park”, turning to you and he sighs. A real sigh. One so full of frustration and… hopelessness. “I’m not bothered. It has never mattered how big or small anything is, I want to do everything for you. Why are you holding yourself back from me?” He is starting to put things into perspective for you. After going through a useless ex-boyfriend, then a man who gave you hot and cold attention, lastly a guy who gave you princess treatment to fill his inflated ego before meeting Ushijima, learning to only rely on yourself has been the protector of your heart, your soul and your sanity. You find that by depending on your good ol’ self is the only way to prevent yourself from throwing your body off a bridge.

“Ushi, it’s not—,” before you can finish your sentence, truthfully you don’t really know what to say. He’s right, you are holding yourself back from him. Holding yourself back from the hurt that you’ve known all too well, he interrupts, holding both your hands in his, “baby, you’re my priority, my everything, your well-being, happiness and comfort are my main concerns and I want it to be that way,” he stops, taking a breath. Reminiscent of the times where Ushijima offered to go so out of his way to help you but being kindly turned down has left him feeling absolutely useless and uneasy. Ushijima’s love language is act of service and because he hasn’t been able to do the bare minimum for you, he feels it eating him alive.

“I am aware of your past, I know that I can’t change what was, but I’m here to make a difference now, I mean it!” You are moved by his words, he means what he says and you know it. You’ve seen it. He’s a big man of his words, always keeping promises, has never ever disappointed you in any way. Yet the walls have been reinforced many times again that it has cemented itself in your life, creating a barrier between the two of you. “I want to open doors for you, pull out chairs for you, pick you up from a friend’s house, drop you off at the airport, all of that, please, baby, please just let me.” You have to say, it is like he is begging for you to allow him in, allow him to integrate further into your system, a system you’ve built to keep you from going down a slippery slope time and time again.

“I’m so grateful for you, Ushi, you’ve done so much for me, you really have. I just feel like I can’t be asking for anymore than what you’ve already given me,” before you can inhale a full breath, he branches his body over to your side of the car and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you melt. “I’m at your disposal, you are my world, let me in, don’t keep shutting me out,” he says, breaking away from the kiss.

You chuckle, “yes, Wakatoshi, I accept your offer,” and you’ve never seen him smile wider. A big, toothy grin coming from the infamously stoic dude. He kisses you again, “thank you, baby.”

He unbuckles your seatbelt, hastily running from his side to yours and opening the door for you, and just like the universe is rooting for the both of you, your shoe laces come undone, again.

[theonevoice]

Have a gold star...

I swear, I started this as a wholesome innocent comment on how when Crowley has to think of a prize, after 6000+ years, his sweet head still goes to stars as the ultimate symbol of something beautiful and cherished.

But then I was struck by something: sarcasm.

Both times, when he tells someone to "have a gold star," he doesn't say it with a tone of affectionate irony, like the cool-but-sweet uncle with a rough personality but a soft heart. He says it with a tone of bitter sarcasm, of painful disenchantment.

Because it's not a prize that he is offering; it's a sop, a cruel joke-gift, something that will get you excited at first just because you have a stupid, naive, innocent soul, and you will later realize that it means nothing to the one who assigned it to you, and that they are ready to take it away whenever they want, while the rest of the world laughs at your ridiculous gullibility.

Because this is what stars were for him.

They were his beloved, exciting creation. The star-factory nebula was his cherished task, assigned to him by God, and he believed that it was meant to be a thing of beauty and splendor, and hold value in the grand scheme of the universe... only to discover, immediately after he created it, that it was never intended to have any value at all. It meant nothing to God. It wasn't even planned to last enough to fullfill its purpose. It was a joke, a cruel prank. 

The stars were God's bad pun of giving angel!Crowley something to do, and love, and have hope and expectations for, and then taking it away. Revealing that it was just a shiny piece of gold cardstock that only a simpleton could consider valuable. Of course he can only say "have a gold star" as a dry snarky sarcastic comment on someone who thinks they have achieved something meaningful when it's actually nothing. Be it the Them defeating the Four Horsemen. Be it Muriel being noticed by the Metatron.

Great, sure, have a gold star, be all excited and squealing with happiness, it will turn into ashes before you even know it.

I am not sure that Crowley's snake eyes were ever intended to signal that he cannot see the stars because snakes have bad vision (even ignoring the zoological fact that they are sensitive to UV light though, so they should still see astronomical objects, in the book it says that demons must be able to see at night, and that's why Crowley doesn't need to turn on the lights on the Bentley), but for sure the Fall and Heaven's cruelty has ruined the stars for him, in a way.

Now, in his mind, they are the ultimate symbol of delusion, of naivety, of foolishly investing your love and passion and hopes in something, of stupidly ignoring that the things you cherish will be ruined or taken away from you or leave you on their own accord.

That's also why Aziraphale's "nothing lasts forever" cuts him so deep. That's why his "no... no, I dont' suppose it does" sounds so much like a truth that he is remembering instead of one that he has jsut discovered.

Here you go, you did it again, you thought you had something significant and instead it was just like your stars, you should have known that whenever you find something beautiful it's just a matter of time before you lose it, you shouldn't get too attached.

In s1e6 he says it to the Them, in s2e6 he says it to Muriel. I do hope that in s3e6 he will get the chance to say it again, but this time it will be honest and out of joy, because whatever is going to happen will make him able again to believe that you can be happy, and can hold onto the good things that you love. You can have all the gold stars, for real. They don't always have to disappear and leave you in pain. They can stay with you.

[suiana]

(yandere! fan x gn! idol reader) (cw: murder, stalking, slight nsfw, yandere stuff)

Yoon-Jae likes to think of himself as your biggest fan.

He buys all your albums, attends all your fan-meets, hell, he even buys all your merch! He just wants to support his favourite idol after all.

You deserve it. Really.

He still remembers how you used to be laughed at by the other students for being a nerd.

You, his old high school classmate, the one he's always pined after even when you were a cute geeky nerd that got teased on a daily basis. Those were good times, he thinks. Before your rise to stardom and exposure to the rest of the world. When times were simpler and you were just someone he had a huge crush on because you were so his type. You two didn't even talk to one another but he had already decided that you were his crush. His first and only crush.

Yoon-Jae still finds it hard to believe that time has already passed by just like that. It's been a good couple of years since you two were in the same class, he still can't believe it. Cute, nerdy, and a little bit of a loser. Sure he knows he's popular and attractive, but opposites attract don't they?

He remembers it like yesterday, to when he first decided to act on his growing feelings for you.

It started out with small things. Following you around in public, being your own personal paparazzi. A little click here and there never hurt anyone. Not when you were so beautifully going about doing your things. His breath always hitches whenever he brings his camera up to his shaky blue eyes to snap another picture of you. The perfect you.

It was like you were made for the spotlight. Made for the cameras. I mean, how could you not be? You're perfect. Everything about you is like a blessing from the god's above. Your smiles, your laughter, the way your face would flush a little from laughing too much... Everything about you needed to be framed in a mueseum. Truly a work of art.

Click, Click, Click.

His camera fired away at everything you did. Even the most mundane of things. The tall Korean man estimates he probably had taken about 5000 pictures of you on a day to day basis back when you both were still students. If you ask his present self how many pictures he takes on a daily basis now it would probably be 2 or 3 times more than what he used to take.

In any case, he finds it a little cute how you were completely oblivious to his photo-taking. How you went around your day-to-day life while remaining blissfully unaware of the photos he shot of you.

Then things got a bit worse.

He thought it wasn't enough to just follow you around outside. No, he needed a glimpse into your private life, the one you kept behind closed doors. Yoon-Jae thought it would help him learn more about you.

And it did. It helped him to learn more about your character. About the person that hid behind a pair of thick round glasses and a nervous stutter when around others in class. The person he saw through a rose-eyed lens.

It was as though he got a glimpse into your soul.

So of course he had to continue breaking into your house to see you in your private space. Of course he had to install cameras in your room to observe how you acted when no one else was around. Of course he had to watch you 24/7. Of course he had to.

It was cute seeing you dance and sing around like some famous idol. Your voice was always so soothing that he'd fall asleep while watching you. This was something he never thought the cute little nerd in his class would enjoy doing. But if it makes you happy he'll be more than happy to support it. You were already an idol in his eyes anyway. It's even better if you wanted to act like a real one.

To be honest, he had secretly hoped you'd notice him. He finds it arousing to say the least. To be caught doing such an intimate thing with his beloved muse... It sends his heart racing, sweat rolling down the sides of his pale forehead as his member strains painfully against his sweatpants.

But you never did and he can't tell whether it's a blessing or a curse that you were so oblivious. No matter, the dark haired man can wait. He's always been patient after all. It's something his mom praised him for since he was young.

The more he learned about you, the more Yoon-Jae couldn't help but be a little peeved that you were still being bullied. He couldn't understand why such a sweet thing like yourself would get teased and called names for liking things so passionately. It's cute. So very adoravle. And he absolutely hated it that others would make fun of you for it. He hated it.

So he decided to get rid of them. What is the point of their lives if they couldn't appreciate the perfection that you are? They are the scum of the earth. Vermin who didn't deserve to live.

His usually neat and tidy appearance was a mess by the time he was done getting rid of the first person. He still regrets wear his favourite white shirt to get rid of all these pests. Their filth got all over him after all, blood and tears staining his pristine clothes.

Yoon-Jae remembers his mother horrified expression as she immediately clutched his arms, asking if he was hurt. He had to repeatedly reassure her that he was fine and just doing it for you. Her face immediately relaxed after that.

"You found your other half then? Are they like your father?"

"Mom it's not-"

"You should bring them back soon. I want to meet my son's beloved! I've been waiting for this day for so long!"

The Korean guy was so confused by his mother's words. Love? He never saw what he was doing as love. He thought it was just... doing what he should do. You're perfect so he should devote himself to you. That's how things are, no?

He started questioning himself after that. Did he... love you? Really? I mean, yeah, he did have a crush but it couldn't be love, could it? Love is a really strong word... He thinks he's just giving you the attention and affection you deserve.

In the midst of getting rid of his final victim, he decided to spill his heart out to them.

"I just... I don't know whether I really love them, you know? Like... I'm doing all this but... It's more like, I want them to be safe and protected from all the bad people. And yeah, maybe I wanna get with them too but that's not very important, is it?"

"U-uh..."

His soft black locks stick to his sweaty forehead, his chest heaving slightly as he continues talking about his feelings to the half dead person. Maybe they'll give him some enlightenment? I mean, they decided to harm you... They should at least give him some advice, no?

"Hey, what do you think? Since you decided to make fun of them you probably know right?"

"I-I don't know-"

"What was that?"

"I meant you probably love them! P-Please don't kill me!"

And just like that, it was like a switch was flipped in his brain.

He made quick work of the person... Well, at least they were useful in the end. He supposes they're not totally good for nothing.

Yoon-Jae decides to confess to you the next day. He brings in flowers and sprays his special cologne. He's positive that you'll reject him today, but he doesn't care. He'll just continue to confess until you finally give in and love him back. You're bound to fall for him one day or another.

Sadly, his luck completely failed him that day and you weren't anywhere in sight. At all.

He spent the whole day asking about your whereabouts, fretting over your well-being as his minds spirals into a states of paranoia. Were you kidnapped? Did someone hurt you? Sick? Where the hell were you?!

And that's when he heard it. You got scouted by an entertainment company and moved to a school closer to your agency.

An idol. You were going to become an idol.

It was as though his heart had stopped and his whole world was flipped upside down. Oh.

Oh.

The realization that you were actually going to stand on a grand stage with hundreds of thousands of eyes on you finally settled in and his heart couldn't help but swell with pride. His idol, his beloved idol. The one he loved and would protect to death. Yoon-Jae couldn't help but feel satisfied knowing that some person finally realized your potential. Took them long enough, he mumbles while walking back home with the bouquet of flowers.

Was he sad that he couldn't confess to you? Sure, yeah he was. He's not going to deny it or lie. It really fucking hurt when you weren't there to witness his confession. But the fact that you had actually gone to become an idol... That made everything all better.

He'd finally be able to worship and love you like you were meant to be worshipped. An idol. His idol. He'd be able to prattle and gush about you without receiving any weird looks. Everyone else will be doing the same thing anyway. They can't and won't be able to judge him. In fact, they'd be understanding of why he's so obsessive over you. You're perfect, he repeats. Such perfection is worth losing his mind over. He's sure everyone would agree.

He can't help but grin in excitement as he anticipates your debut. A cute concept? A sexy concept? Both? He thinks that you'd suit everything.

When you finally debuted he feels like he could die at that second. You, in all your glory, was standing in the middle of a stage. A soloist. The sole star of the show. He's glad your agency hadn't put you in a group. He'd feel bad for your other members, already knowing that you'd outshine them all. It's not even up for debate.

It's no surprise that Yoon-Jae's the first to buy all your merchandise. The first one to book tickets to all your shows and fan meets. He's in the front row screaming your name with his heart, blue eyes all wide and cheeks flushed as he publicly displays his devotion for you.

You don't notice him at first, but as time goes by and he continues to support you, he's become a familiar face amongst your ever growing crowd. Yoon-Jae. You hadn't realized that the popular guy in your old class had liked your music so earnestly. Maybe it was a safe haven from the horrible deaths back in your old school. You believed your music to be comforting after all.

His slender hands intertwine with yours as he appears at your fan meet for the nth time. He comes bearing more gifts than before, way too excited to chat to you one-on-one again.

"Darling, darling! You look amazing like usual! I bought this expensive cartier necklace for you today. Do you want me to put it on for you?"

"Haha, of course. You're my sweetest fan! Come put it on for me?"

The lines between idol and fan slowly start to blur to him. Yoon-Jae thinks that you truly mean what you say whereas you were just doing what an idol does. Fan-service.

But Yoon-Jae doesn't care about that. Why would he? You're his other half. He even got his mother to watch your content with him. She says she's eager to meet her son's future spouse. His father is a little bit more reserved, always hiding in his room and reading quietly, not wanting to talk to him. Whatever, he'll meet you one on one when the time comes. And you'll be his when the time comes. Though he loves you as an idol, he loves you as his lover more. The tall black haired guy is already counting down the days to when your contract ends.

For now, he'll continue supporting you as your biggest fan. He always will be your biggest fan even after your career too. You're an idol in his eyes through and through and nothing will change that.

Nothing will ever change that.

[obae-me]

The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

[adviceformefromme]

8 TIPS FOR A WHOLESOME SUMMER

1] PRIORITISING SLEEP. You’re sleeping with your mouth closed, because you’ve learnt how open mouth breathing affects your jaw, posture and overall health. You’ve got those little sticky mouth strips from Amazon to help support with keeping your mouth shut during the night and as a result sleeping like a baby. 

3] YOU ARE IN YOUR ‘NO’ ERA. Saying no to absolutely anything that doesn’t align with your truth. No to the boozy party because you’ve quit drinking, no to the consuming voice notes and calls with your ‘still’ friends (still broke, still complaining, still getting no where). The more you say no, the more you are creating space for what is meant for you. 

4] ENJOYING HOBBIES. You start pouring more into activities that fill you up. The yoga workshops, dance classes, painting, cycling, running, making fermented foods. You're becoming more wholesome, and its from a place of truth and love. 

5] LOOKING AND FEELING YOUR BEST. You’re not worried about dropping a little cash on some key items for your summer wardrobe, because you know looking good will only amplify your radiance. This starts at home, sleeping in your best night dresses, wearing the kimono robe around the house. Ensuring your nails toes are clean and groomed, even if this is a weekly at home job. You prioritise looking and feeling your best even if this means waking up a little earlier to get ready.

6] LISTENING TO MUSIC THAT LIFTS YOU UP. Not the songs that keep you in the trap of overthinking him. Spiritual songs, songs of praise, affirmation songs, music with soul. As result you feel more connected to God, your truth, and grounded.

7] MAKING ACTUAL PLANS FOR THE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO THIS SUMMER. That means booking the flights, the train tickets, the restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. Pull out your diary and make the plans. Go live your life. Even if you do this alone, the most important thing is you don’t let this summer pass you by. You live it, you breathe it, you make it as fulfilling and exciting as possible. 

8] READING. Having a physical book to read, to travel with, to have close to your heart is the perfect way to expand your mind and take a much needed screen break…Fiction, or Non-fiction, go to the bookstore or library and enjoy the feel of the recycled paper on your finger tips as you indulge in something of interest. 

9] REDUCE SCREEN TIME. Whatever your current screen time, the goal is to reduce it by 50%, so if you’re currently on 4hrs per day, get it down to 2hrs. The less time on your phone, the more time in the real world, you’ll find you become more present, and enjoying life instead of being a slave to your device. 

[citrus-moonlight]

As I often do, I've seen a few posts going around lately lamenting the lack of interaction with fanfiction/fanart here on Tumblr as well as AO3, but after reading a particular comment last night I just need to say this:

If someone tells you that the lack of response to sharing their writing is making them feel so upset that they're thinking of quitting writing altogether, don't tell them that's not a good mindset to have and they should just have fun with it and write for themselves. (have you just tried not being sad? you'll feel so much better!)

Even if you're a writer who felt that way once upon a time but then you changed your mindset so that you don't rely on others' feedback for validation and now you're so much happier, that's not helpful. Because that's obviously not what the person who is feeling sad and defeated is able to do right now, and for most writers/creators that's never going to be possible.

And it shouldn't have to be.

Especially here. Especially fanfiction.

Fanfiction is something that's created because someone loves something and wants to share it with others who love the same thing. And this is specifically a fandom space, somewhere that is supposed to be a community where discussion and dialogue can and is encouraged to happen between the people who write and the people who read. So when there's radio silence when you share something in this kind of space, do you really not see how that would be discouraging?

Because of course I write for myself - I would never get anything down on the page if I didn't - but I share because ultimately I want someone else out there to read what I wrote, and with any luck, to get some joy out of it. But if no one tells me they did, how am I supposed to know? As far as I know I've just been yelling into the void. As far as I know, all that work wasn't worth it.

A metaphor I've seen as an example is that it would be like having someone invite you over and cooking an entire delicious, heartfelt meal, you eat it all without saying anything, and then just leave. Do you not see how that would be upsetting?

We put so much of ourselves into what we write, bits of our hearts and souls and the things that we love and are exploring and are interested in or confused about. It's such a vulnerable thing to share something you've created, so when you tell someone that they shouldn't care if someone else reads what they wrote or tells them that they liked it, you're dismissing a very real and valid experience for so many creators out there.

Because regardless of how slow or fast a writer is, or how big or small their fandom is, it's still hard and takes time and energy and dedication and love - all of it in between our day to day lives from the mundanities to the heartbreaks - to even get something to the point where we're comfortable sharing.

Now, I know that not everyone thinks that writers are silly or selfish or entitled when they ask for feedback. Before I started writing again after many, many years, the main reason I didn't really comment on fics very often wasn't because I didn't think that the authors deserved feedback, it was more that I didn't really think that it would matter. That my comments would just be noted - if read at all - and brushed aside and then they would continue on about their day.

I could not have possible been more wrong. You might think you're just one person and it's just one comment but it's amazing how it can turn a day (or week, or month) around. How it can encourage someone to finish a story, or make a connection they'd been struggling with, or even just manage to add 500 words to a WIP. It is truly incredible to hear that someone loved something I wrote, and if you've ever commented on or reblogged one of my fics, please know that it truly means the world to me.

I've gone through a rough time with all of this lately myself, but I'm doing a bit better now (for the moment), so I just wanted to say this, in part to remind myself when it inevitably gets hard again:

If you're reading this, whether you're a friend or you've never seen me on your dash and never will again: I'm sorry it hurts right now. I'm sorry you feel discouraged and lonely, that it doesn't feel like it's worth it anymore, that you're struggling to find a reason to continue.

But I desperately hope that you keep writing. I hope you keep sharing. You're worth it. I know it's hard, and if you don't want to and you're just tired of the cycle of giving so much of yourself and getting so little in return, I understand that, too. It's ok to be in your feelings about it, it's ok to feel drained by it, and even though knowing you're not alone in your experience doesn't change anything and it still sucks, it's normal and valid and there's nothing wrong with you feeling the way that you do.

But I hope that you are able to find the joy in it again, because you deserve it. ❤️

[gay-dorito-dust]

scar with a gn! Reader that’s crazier then him :3 (headcanons please)

You probably caught a glimpse of him one day could feel this chaotic and intense energy about him, which would’ve been enough to have anyone making the smart decision to leave while they could.

for you however, it was more or less the opposite and it wasn’t long before you’d actively tried seeking him out, causing chaos and discord however you could just in the hopes of getting an audience with the man known as Scar.

You knew of the stories that have been told about him but you didn’t care and instead found something to bond with him over; wanting to watch everything go up in smoke as the fires blazed on well into the night.

Scar saw you both as kindred spirits, people who saw things as they really were whilst everyone else was more or less content with living in ignorant bliss.

If anyone were to call your love deranged or unstable, Scar would gladly destroy them in whatever ways he felt suited them best, as he went on a triad about how yours and his love was a genuine, one of a kind love that couldn’t be replicated because people didn’t have the same passion for destruction and desolation like you two did.

So in his eyes, anyone else’s definition of love was false in comparison to yours as yours stemmed from an obsession that bloomed from a simple glance.

Scar would preach whilst holding you close as a village burns to cinders that you were soulmates, two halves of the same soul that were forced to live separate lives because you were deemed too powerful of a force when together. so they had to rip you both apart while they could to preserve their definition of ‘peace.’

Your dates were…unique to say the least, such as participating in his experimentations and misleading good and well meaning people for fun and laughing when they come back a monstrosity of their own creation, as you’d let them believe.

You: would you burn everything for me? Would you even kill thousands for me my dearest Scar?

Scar: I’d do so and much, much more, charred corpses that would try to take you away from me, try to persuade you into leaving me or even exist within the same space as you will be used as an cautionary art piece; an example for everyone else that they’d too would suffer a similar fate made purely for our entertainment.

*he grabs at your face and leans in real close* they are merely mortals fooling themselves into thinking they’re smart enough to speak upon issues regarding those of a higher power and purpose. Do you hold me in the same regard, my desire?

You, leaning your forehead against his, looking deep into his eyes that were unusually soft in this moment: if I had it my way there’d be no one left alive to look at what’s mine. I’d rip out my own heart if I could to prove that it only beats for you and you could do whether you’d like with it for as long as you want. Cage it? Destroy it? Preserve it for all time always? My heart is yours to toy with.

You truly were a match made in a demented, morbid version of heaven.

Scar would probably test how much you love him by making you do the most morally questionable shit known to man, if you succeed, you’ve proven your love was genuine but if you failed, then he guesses you didn’t love him as much as you declared you did.

However once you’ve become scar’s, you were forfeiting your freedom in order to shape yourself into being the prefect lover for him, however that was the plan to being with wasn’t it?