#trait: cherub

[digi-lov]

Lopmon EX6-032 by Ryodan, Turuiemon EX6-033 by banira, Antylamon EX6-034 by Sanosuke Sakuma, Cherubimon Ace EX6-035 by koki from EX-06 Extra Booster Infernal Ascension

[starlit-bawka]

Caving and making dsmp and qsmp Homestuck AUs

[unboundprompts]

How to write about someone’s appearance? Their physique, styles, face , clothes,?

How to Describe a Character's Appearance

-> dabblewriter.com

-> link to Character Description Prompts

Avoid Over-Describing

Overloading readers with too much information can be overwhelming and make your characters feel flat and one-dimensional. Focus on the details that are the most important to the story and the characters themselves.

If the character's appearance is not central to the story, then you may only need to give a basic description. If it plays a significant role, you may want to go into more detail. Always keep the purpose of your physical descriptions in mind.

Show Don't Tell

Don't blatantly state every little thing about your character's appearance, but rather show it through their actions and behaviors.

example: If they are tall, show that through their actions. They have to duck to get under a doorway, they help someone reach the top shelf, etc.

Include Personality Traits

A character's personality is what makes them memorable. Consider their motivations, values, beliefs, and quirks and give them a well-defined personality.

Avoid Stereotypes

Create characters that are more than just their cultural, racial, ethnic, or gender identity. Give them unique interests, hobbies, and personalities. Allow them to have flaws, contradictions, and diverse perspectives.

External Features

External features include a character's height, weight, body type, and general appearance. You can describe their skin color, hair color, eye color, and any distinctive features like freckles or scars. This type of description gives the reader a basic understanding of what the character looks like, which is helpful in creating a mental image.

Clothing

Describing the type of clothing they wear, including the colors, patterns, and how they fit, can reveal a lot about a character’s personality and social status.

For example, a character who wears tailored suits and expensive shoes might be a little snobby and concerned with their image, while a character who wears ripped jeans and t-shirts might be casual and relaxed.

Facial Features

Facial features can be used to give the reader a more in-depth understanding of a character's personality and emotions. You can describe their smile, the way they frown, their cheekbones, and their jawline. You can also describe their eyebrows, the shape of their nose, and the size and shape of their eyes, which can give the reader insight into their emotions.

Body Language

Body language can be used to give the reader an understanding of a character's emotions and personality without the need for dialogue. Describing the way a character stands, walks, or gestures can reveal a lot about their confidence level, mood, and attitude.

For example, a character who slouches and avoids eye contact is likely to be shy, while a character who stands up straight and makes direct eye contact is likely to be confident.

Words to Describe Various Features

Head and face

Oval: rounded, elongated, balanced, symmetrical

Round: full, plump, chubby, cherubic

Square: angular, defined, strong, masculine

Heart: pointy, triangular, wider at the temples, narrow at the chin

Diamond: angular, pointed, narrow at the forehead and jaw, wide at the cheekbones

Long: elongated, narrow, oval, rectangular

Triangular: angular, wide at the jaw, narrow at the forehead, inverted heart-shape

Oblong: elongated, rectangular, similar to oval but longer

Pear-shaped: narrow at the forehead, wide at the jaw and cheekbones, downward-pointing triangle

Rectangular: angular, defined, similar to oblong but more squared

Facial features

Cheeks: rosy, plump, gaunt, sunken, dimpled, flushed, pale, chubby, hollow

Chin: pointed, cleft, rounded, prominent, dimpled, double, weak, strong, square

Ear: large, small, delicate, flapped, pointed, rounded, lobeless, pierced

Eyes: deep-set, angled, bright, piercing, hooded, wide-set, close-set, beady, slanted, round, droopy, sleepy, sparkling

Forehead: high, broad, wrinkled, smooth, furrowed, low, narrow, receding

Jaw: strong, square, defined, angular, jutting, soft, weak, chiseled

Lips: full, thin, chapped, cracked, puckered, pursed, smiling, quivering, pouty

Mouth: wide, small, downturned, upturned, smiling, frowning, pouting, grimacing

Nose: hooked, straight, aquiline, button, long, short, broad, narrow, upturned, downturned, hooked, snub

Eyebrows: arched, bushy, thin, unkempt, groomed, straight, curved, knitted, furrowed, raised

Hair

Texture: curly, straight, wavy, frizzy, lank, greasy, voluminous, luxurious, tangled, silky, coarse, kinky

Length: long, short, shoulder-length, waist-length, neck-length, chin-length, buzzed, shaven

Style: styled, unkempt, messy, wild, sleek, smoothed, braided, ponytail, bun, dreadlocks

Color: blonde, brunette, red, black, gray, silver, salt-and-pepper, auburn, chestnut, golden, caramel

Volume: thick, thin, fine, full, limp, voluminous, sparse

Parting: center-parted, side-parted, combed, brushed, gelled, slicked back

Bangs: fringed, side-swept, blunt, wispy, thick, thin

Accessories: headband, scarf, barrettes, clips, pins, extensions, braids, ribbons, beads, feathers

Body

Build: slender, skinny, lean, athletic, toned, muscular, burly, stocky, rotund, plump, hefty, portly

Height: tall, short, petite, lanky, willowy, stocky, rotund

Posture: slouching, upright, hunched, stiff, relaxed, confident, nervous, slumped

Shape: hourglass, pear-shaped, apple-shaped, athletic, bulky, willowy, curvy

Muscles: defined, toned, prominent, ripped, flabby, soft

Fat distribution: chubby, plump, rounded, jiggly, wobbly, flabby, bloated, bloated

Body hair: hairy, smooth, shaven, beard, goatee, mustache, stubble

Weight: light, heavy, average, underweight, overweight, obese, lean, skinny

Body language: confident, nervous, aggressive, submissive, arrogant, timid, confident, relaxed

Body movements: graceful, clunky, fluid, awkward, jerky, smooth, agile, rigid

Build

Muscular: ripped, toned, defined, well-built, buff, brawny, burly, strapping

Athletic: fit, toned, agile, flexible, energetic, muscular, athletic, sporty

Thin: skinny, slender, slim, lanky, bony, gaunt, angular, wiry

Stocky: sturdy, broad-shouldered, compact, muscular, solid, robust, heavy-set

Overweight: plump, chubby, rotund, heavy, portly, corpulent, stout, fleshy

Fat: overweight, overweight, rotund, heavy, bloated, tubby, round, fat

Lean: lanky, slender, skinny, thin, wiry, willowy, spare, underweight

Larger: large, heavy, hefty, substantial, solid, overweight, portly, rotund

Skin

Texture: smooth, soft, silky, rough, bumpy, flaky, scaly, rough

Tone: fair, light, pale, dark, tan, olive, bronze, ruddy, rosy

Complexion: clear, radiant, glowing, dull, blotchy, sallow, ruddy, weathered

Wrinkles: deep, fine, lines, crow's feet, wrinkles, age spots

Marks: freckles, age spots, birthmarks, moles, scars, blemishes, discoloration

Tone: even, uneven, patchy, discolored, mottled, sunburned, windburned

Glow: luminous, radiant, healthy, dull, tired, lifeless

Tautness: taut, firm, loose, saggy, wrinkles, age spots, slack

Condition: healthy, glowing, radiant, dry, oily, acne-prone, sunburned, windburned

Style

Clothing: trendy, stylish, fashionable, outdated, classic, eclectic, casual, formal, conservative, bold, vibrant, plain, ornate

Fabric: silk, cotton, wool, leather, denim, lace, satin, velvet, suede, corduroy

Colors: bright, bold, pastel, neutral, vibrant, muted, monochrome

Accessories: jewelry, hats, glasses, belts, scarves, gloves, watches, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings

Shoes: sneakers, boots, sandals, heels, loafers, flats, pumps, oxfords, slippers

Grooming: well-groomed, unkempt, messy, clean-cut, scruffy, neat

Hair: styled, messy, curly, straight, braided, dreadlocks, afro, updo, ponytail

Makeup: natural, bold, minimal, heavy, smokey, colorful, neutral

Personal grooming: clean, fragrant, unkempt, well-groomed, grooming habits

Overall appearance: put-together, disheveled, polished, rough, messy, tidy

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

please understand my vision

ok more seriously

calliope's species canonically only experiences pitch attraction and are specifically drawn to those that remind them of the half they lost in predomination

hussie mentions multiple times in the book commentary that many of eridan's personality and character traits were hazy ideas that eventually became caliborn, and frequently lumps eridan in with caliborn as a sort of proto-caliborn. also eridan literally named himself cal, caligulasAquarium. he also shares riflekind with caliborn and wandkind with calliope

adult cherubs have wings in the shape of the hope symbol, and mating forms that resemble massive serpents, and eridan is the prince (destroyer) of hope, as well as an angel killer (with angels being massive winged serpents in homestuck)

eridan is associated broadly with the number 11 (aquarius being the 11th number in the zodiac) and specifically 311; calliope sometimes types things 11 times for emphasis and ophiuchus would make her the 13th zodiac sign

eridan at one point rants about his kismesistude with vriska being the "kind you don't see in 10,000 sweeps" that will feature "rainbow rivers flowing through star streams all nebulizing and shit" which is basically what cherub mating is like

their . their personalities . they

[hazbinshusk]

Hi there! I saw your prompt request open so I thought about...Blitzø x Fem! Angel! Reader from the Kiss Roulette with #39 Prompt. A tentative kiss.

The C.H.E.R.U.B.S made heaven looks so bad after what they did in the living world. So, an angel is informed about this so she apologizes to the Imp's company. Knowing there's no need to fight between both worlds. Blitzø feels some kind of warm and kindness coming from the angel. Wanting to get to know more about her and the heavens. Maybe even teasing her about wanting a taste from heaven with a kiss...With fluff and maybe spice (I kinda had the idea a bit but the rest can be up to you)

So, I already sended you this request but then I found out I wrote the wrong number (Hope not to go wrong with this one this time so I dediced to wrote the name in case I wrote the wrong number).

thank you for being so patient! I had a little fun with it so it fit my voice a little better, but I hope you still like it :) also 'bible-thumpin' boytoys' might be one of my favourite bits of dialogue I've ever written for blitzø. anyway, heres...

prompt #39: a tentative kiss

“Okay… you wanna run by me again exactly in the fuck you are?” Blitzø says, an eyebrow raised as he lounges back in his chair, feet kicked up on the desk between you. His expression reads as disbelieving, but he still manages to take the moment to let it turn appraising, even predatory as he runs his gaze down over your figure. “’Cause you don’t look a single fuck like those cotton candy freaks that fucked with us up top.”

You smooth your fingers over the fabric covering your thighs, banishing non-existent wrinkles from your slacks. You were perched straight-backed on the chair opposite him, entirely aware of the three other demons listening in from the other side of the door. “I’m a CHERUB… or, well, an associate of CHERUB. I’m not heaven-born, I just liaise with the department.”

“Ohhh, so you’re one of the goody-two-shoe-fuckers that get to go topside after they bite it?” the imp asks, leaning forward slightly. His tail waves slowly back and forth behind him, and part of you wonders if he’s doing it on purpose – like he’s trying to offend you by making sure you notice every one of his demonic traits. “You must’a been borin’ as shit to end up with the Holy Rollers.”

You shrug a shoulder, amusement twitching at the edge of your lips despite yourself. “Must have.”

“So, what?” Blitzø continues, a kind of cavalier smirk playing over his features. “Your bosses all pissy ‘cause we kicked your buddies’ asses halfway back to heaven and now you’re… what? Here to make it even? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, you’re cute an’ all, but I’m pretty sure we can serve your ass back to ya on a silver platter.”

“You think I’m cute?” you ask, and Blitzø grins. You shake your head, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’m not here for some kind of avenging angel deal. Dearie told me… told the department how it all went down, and—”

“That bambi bitch’s name is Dearie?”

“—I wanted to apologise for what happened.”

Blitzø’s eyebrow arches again. “You wanted to apologise. Not your bosses.”

You swallow, pressing your lips together.

Shit.

You weren’t exactly here on sanctioned orders; Lord, if anyone found out that you’d hijacked a portal to come down here… well, you’d probably end up in the same predicament as Cletus, Colin and Keenie. And honestly, spending the Father only knows how long trapped in the mortal world with them for company… Maybe you should have thought this through.

“I, uh… it’s important that the relationship between Heaven and Hell stays civil—” you say, and the imp snorts in derision.

“Yeah, you feathery fucks seem to be real concerned with keepin’ the peace.” he replies snidely, and your brow furrows in confusion at the comment. He leans forward in his seat, giving you that appraising look again that makes something inside you flutter. You push it down, swallowing. “Speakin’ of, shouldn’t you have a rack on you?”

“Excuse me?” you say, offended, and you can’t help but glance down at your chest automatically.

Blitzø snickers, letting his own gaze linger there for a moment before he waves a hand towards the space over your shoulder. “Wings, sugar. Shouldn’t you have a pair?”

“Oh,” you feel a blush creep into your cheeks at your presumption. “I do, they’re just… kind of a pain to have out all the time. Besides, this way I can… blend in a little better down here.”

Blitzø huffs a laugh, pushing himself up out of his chair. “Nice try, tits. But there ain’t no sinners down here that look like you.”

That fluttery feeling blooms inside you again, tickling low in your belly and floating into your chest as he rounds the desk towards you. He leans against it, claws curled around the edge of the desktop beside his hips, his legs only a few sparse inches from your knees. You jump slightly as you feel something touch your ankle – the point of his tail brushes against your pant leg as it waves slowly beside him. The imp’s smirk widens at your reaction.

“And none of ‘em dress like that, either.” he points out. “Pride ain’t exactly the place for business casual.”

You glance down at yourself again, at your pressed pants and button down, before looking back up at him from under your brows. You find yourself trying for the same playfully sarcastic tone he’s been using on you. “You saying I should have tried for the leather look?”

Blitzø blinks, caught off-guard by the change in your tone. Then, he smiles again, sharp-toothed and thoroughly entertained. “Definitely. Personally, I’d love to see those legs of yours all wrapped up in tight, black…”

“Mr. Buckzo—”

“Call me Blitz.”

“Blitz,” you correct yourself. “I’m here to try and establish a diplomatic relationship between—”

“You ever thought about it?”

“Huh?”

Blitzø grins. “Takin’ a walk on the dark side. See what you were missin’ out on by playin’ good girl for God all those years on Earth. They might have invented their own brand of fuckin’ up in Cloud Cuckoo Land, but I can guarantee your bible-thumpin’ boytoys ain’t got nothin’ on me.”

You flush, and that seems to amuse him more. “Are you… seriously… hitting on me right now?”

Blitzø’s smile doesn’t waver. “You tellin’ me you’re not interested?”

Casting a glance back to the door, you struggle to find an appropriate response. You jump again as he suddenly leans forward just as you turn around to face him again, bracing himself over you by gripping the arms of your chair. It effectively cages you in, and your breath catches in your throat as it brings his face so, so close to yours.

You swallow, and he smirks.

“I… I came here,” you repeat, trying to keep the waver out of your voice. “To try and mend… fences between our organizations…”

“Mm. You wanna make amends?”

You nod, biting your lip. Blitzø’s eyes flicker down to catch the movement. His tail is switching slowly behind him again.

“You wanna make it up to us for what your dick co-workers did?”

“I—”

“Show me how much.” he challenges, eyes half-lidded and downright… seductive. You shift in your seat, face aflame. “C’mon… you know you want to. One little kiss to show me how much you care… maybe a quick, five star fuck if you feel up to it—”

“Jesus Christ…” the curse comes out as barely more than a breath.

“Look, at you. Takin’ the Lord’s name in vain.” he chuckles. “Careful, baby. You spend too much time down here, and you might find you like it.”

“It’s Hell, not a holiday.” you point out. “I’m not exactly worried about wanting an address change.”

“Yeah?” he retorts teasingly. “Prove it. Give me a little taste of Heaven.”

You waver for a moment before your sense of reason finally gives way to your curiosity. You reach up, curling your fingers in the front of his coat. Blitzø actually looks surprised as you lean up, meeting his lips hesitantly with your own.

They’re surprisingly soft and warm against yours, and the stiffness in his body eases as he relaxes into the embrace. When you pull away, you exhale in the hopes of steadying yourself. Blitzø meets your eye for a moment, and then his lips are on yours again, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

You can feel the sharp points of his claws in your hair, against the soft skin by your ear, but instead of unnerving you, you find it excites you, spurs you on. When your lips part he touches his tongue to your bottom lip, and you sigh into his mouth. Your hand leaves his chest to slide over the side of his neck to curl around the nape of it, and you’re surprised to hear him moan quietly into the kiss. It thrills you more than it should, as does the way his tongue slides against yours.

Your fingers brush against one of the spikes at the back of his head, and you jerk away from him, his teeth grazing your lip as you do. Blitzø blinks as though dazed, shaking himself as you suddenly push your chair back and stand, the chair legs screeching obnoxiously against the carpet.

“I should… I should go.” you stumble over the words, grateful that the imp doesn’t move to follow you as you back away from him a few steps. “My… my friend can only keep the portal open for so long before they notice I’m gone. So, I should…”

Blitzø nods, recovering himself. “Right. Yeah. Yeah, you should… yeah…”

You give him an awkward, tight-lipped smile, holding out a hand for him to shake. “It was… thank you for meeting with me, Blitz.”

He laughs at your sudden propriety, shaking his head in amusement as he closes the distance between you and takes hold of your hand. Instead of shaking it, he turns it over, bending down and brushing his lips against the back of it. Blitzø holds your gaze as he does, and you can’t help the bashful smile that flickers over your face.

“Anytime.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[wholoveseggs]

Hello lovely! I was wondering if you could whip up a little something about the reader because self conscious and comparing herself to Hayley maybe she’s a little chubby and such so when Hayley comes back into their lives she’s a little worried. But Elijah always the gentleman comforts her with some good ol sex 🤪🤪 if not feel free to ignore 💕

Reminder

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Your relationship with Elijah feels like its unravelling with the arrival of Hayley and a cutting nickname from Klaus. Fortunately, Elijah knows just what to do to make you feel loved.

♡♡ Thanks for the request, this one goes out to all my thick thighed brothers & sisters. May you all find an Elijah to suffocate between them. ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smut, face sitting, Klaus being cruel, Elijah being sweet.

When you are a vampire time passes differently, things change around you, and sometimes you feel like the odd man out. When you first met Elijah everything was different. Culture, language, even the food and the music. He was captivated by you instantly, he whisked you away from your difficult life and kept you in his bed. Making sure you knew how much he loved every inch of your body. He was your first and only lover, the man who turned you and showed you a world you never thought was possible.

Centuries had passed with just the two of you, then Klaus returned to your lives and with him came the lovely Hayley Marshall. Pregnant, doe eyed and absolutely beautiful.

You weren't jealous at first, Elijah was devoted to you and only you. His heart was yours, that was all you cared about. But Klaus brought his chaos with him, and your noble lover had to keep Hayley safe. She needed to be protected, so Elijah spent more time with her and less with you.

You were alone, and it left a hollow feeling in your chest. You felt forgotten and unloved. Elijah did his best to spend time with you, but it wasn't enough.

Then your mind started playing cruel tricks on you, making you see Hayley and Elijah together. She was so pretty, her body was tall and thin, while yours was plump and soft. You had nightmares of Elijah touching her, kissing her, making her moan his name.

It made you want to throw up.

The whole thing made you feel irrational and insecure, Elijah loved you, he told you all the time, but still the thoughts lingered.

It wasn't until Klaus gave you a certain nickname, that it truly got under your skin.

Little wolf he would purr, calling Hayley to him, the words fell off his tongue like honey. It was such an affectionate term, one with many layers of meaning. It was beautiful and sweet, and Klaus seemed so proud to call her this.

But then there was his nickname for you, Elijah's little cherub. 

It was not meant as an endearment, but as an insult. Klaus was right, you did look a little like a cherub, soft, round cheeks, and a full, thick body. It hurt you, even if you tried not to let it get to you. You told yourself that Klaus wasn't important, his opinion didn't matter. But the words he spoke stuck in your mind.

Everything was going fine, you had mastered keeping your insecurities under wraps, until Klaus and Elijah announced that they were throwing a ball. 

It was Elijah's first time hosting one since the two of you moved to New Orleans. He was a natural at hosting parties, he knew just how to make everyone feel welcome. It was a trait you didn't have. You were too quiet and reserved, people would get bored with you and leave. Elijah was the life of the party, everyone wanted to be around him. You were afraid you would ruin it for him.

You never felt good in gowns, you felt big and bulky. The ones you tried on just made you look worse. You hated looking at yourself in the mirror, you looked like an overstuffed pillow. There was no way you could go out in public like this. You even dug out an old corset to try and make yourself look smaller. It just made your breasts spill out over the top. You were mortified and threw the thing in the garbage. You were starting to wonder what Elijah saw in you.

When he entered your bedroom, you were sitting on the bed, resigning yourself to the dress that you knew didn't suit you. He had been busy with the ball, and hadn't noticed your sour mood. He was all smiles, telling you how beautiful you would look in your dress, and how proud he was to have you by his side. He was dressed impeccably as always, and you felt frumpy and out of place. How could you possibly look good next to him?

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied in a small voice, not wanting to burden him with your troubles.

You walked downstairs and the guests began to arrive, all the while Elijah's hand rested on the small of your back. He left you to go greet some guests and you spotted Klaus. He grinned and you saw the flash of his dimples as he made his way over to you. You knew he was going to make a comment, you dreaded hearing what it was going to be.

"Hello, little cherub," he smirked, and your heart sank.

"Please don't call me that," you whispered, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

"Why ever not? You do look like one," he said, his eyes roaming your body.

"Klaus, stop it," you warned, not wanting to deal with his teasing.

"My brother certainly does seem fond of you, which is odd, considering his type usually looks more like..." he gestured to Hayley, who was across the room talking with Elijah.

You frowned, trying to swallow the insecurity bubbling up, but Klaus still noticed, "Did I hit a nerve?"

"No, why would you?" you lied, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"Don't be too upset, cherub, you may not be his usual type, but he seems to enjoy the extra cushion."

His words hit like a punch to the gut. You couldn't believe he would say something like that. It was true that Elijah was quite fit and lean, while you were much softer and thicker. It made you insecure and now that he pointed it out, it felt even worse. You looked over at Elijah, who was talking to Hayley, they looked so good together, she was a perfect match for him.

"You really are an ass," you told him.

He chuckled and said, "I never said it was a bad thing, I think you are rather lovely,"

Elijah glanced up and saw the distress on your face. He immediately excused himself from his conversation and came to you. He could tell that something was bothering you.

"What did you do?" he asked Klaus.

"Me? Nothing," Klaus shrugged. "I was just complimenting your lovely companion," he continued, smirking at you.

Elijah's attention was on you now, he knew something was wrong. His brow furrowed, he could sense your anguish. But before he could say anything Hayley joined the group, her eyes moving from Klaus, to Elijah, and then settling on you.

"Oh, hello," she said, trying to sound friendly.

You nodded politely, not wanting to be impolite, despite the way her presence made you feel. It wasn't her fault, she had no idea you felt this way.

Elijah's hand brushed over the small of your back, trying to comfort you. He didn't realize it, but his touch was having the opposite effect, it was making you even more self conscious. Did he feel obligated to touch you like that? Did he do it for show? Was he just being polite? Your brain was coming up with every reason possible to feel terrible.

You didn't know how much longer you could stay here, watching them, surrounded by a sea of beautiful people, feeling more alone than ever.

You looked over at Elijah, and saw him gazing at you. His eyes were filled with adoration, but it was hard for you to believe it. The voice in your head kept repeating, that Klaus was right, he doesn't really love you, he's just too polite to say anything.

"I was hoping to get a proper tour of the house," Hayley said, interrupting your thoughts, "I've never seen the upstairs rooms, will you show me y/n?"

The question caught you off guard, you had no interest in spending time with her, and it felt like she was just being polite. You wanted to say no, but that would have been rude. So instead you smiled and nodded, following her out of the ballroom and into the hall.

You led her upstairs and she stopped, her eyes scanning the pictures on the wall. Her fingers gently brushed over the frames, and she pointed out an old portrait of the Mikaelson Family.

"God, they are all so beautiful," she sighed, and you knew she was right. Rebekah was stunning, Klaus had a wild, handsome charm, and Elijah was a classic, elegant beauty. They were all perfection, and you had no idea what they were doing with you.

"Is that Freya?" she asked, pointing at another portrait, "she's stunning,"

You nodded, feeling awkward. This was the last place you wanted to be.

Hayley smiled, turning her attention back to the wall, and continued walking. You trailed behind, feeling out of place, and unsure of what to say. Hayley stopped in front of a particular painting, a portrait of you and Elijah. She smiled, and you felt your heart skip, it was your favorite portrait of the two of you.

"You two look so in love," she said, and your stomach twisted.

"Yes, we are," you replied, trying to sound sincere, when really all you wanted to do was cry.

"How did the two of you meet?" she asked.

"He turned me in the 16th century, I was his seamstress," you explained, smiling a little.

Hayley looked at you with surprise, her eyebrows raised, "You fixed up his suits?"

"Well, he wasn't exactly wearing suits back then, but he's always been very fashionable. He liked the way I stitched his shirts," you told her.

"How fast did you two fall in love?"

You bit your lip, and answered, "Well, he persued me for quite a while before I agreed to be with him,"

"Why? Were you scared?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips.

"No, not exactly," you blushed, looking down at the floor.

"Well, what was it?" she asked, genuinely curious.

You gave Hayley a skeptical look, women that looked like her never thought about these kinds of things.

"I mean, he's so gorgeous, and I'm..."

You looked down at your body, your mind conjuring up a list of flaws. Hayley could see the change in your demeanor, she could sense your discomfort. She stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on your arms.

"There's nothing wrong with you, I think you're pretty," she smiled, her hands giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

Your eyes darted to the floor, and you felt the blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Thank you, Hayley," you murmured.

"And Elijah thinks the same thing, I've seen the way he looks at you," she added, her voice taking on a more serious tone.

You glanced up and saw the truth in her eyes, there was a softness, and a hint of jealousy.

"Thank you," you said, a blush rising on your cheeks.

"Of course," she smiled, "I hope I can find a man who looks at me the way Elijah looks at you,"

The words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but ask, "How does he look at me?"

"Like you are the most beautiful thing in the world," she replied, and her voice sounded wistful.

She turned her gaze to the portraits and continued her exploration. You followed, and as you got closer to the end, Hayley paused, her gaze lingering on the portrait of Klaus.

"I hope our child has his dimples," she sighed.

"And not his ego," you teased, and her face split into a grin.

"That's fair," she laughed, her hand falling on the slight bump of her belly.

You continued your tour of the house, showing her the rest of the rooms, and trying to keep the conversation light. Hayley was kind, and didn't seem to notice your discomfort. When you returned to the ballroom, Elijah was standing with his brother, their heads bowed together, discussing something. He looked up when he saw you and his lips curled into a smile.

Hayley's eyes flicked to Elijah and then back to you, "See, there it is, that look,"

You blushed, and turned your head away. Elijah looked at you with love and affection, but your doubts still lingered.

"Did you enjoy the tour with the little cherub?" Klaus asked, his lips curling into a smirk.

Hayley gave him a warning look, her voice laced with an unspoken threat, "Don't call her that,"

Klaus held his hands up in surrender, but the damage was done, you felt so humilated and embarrassed, you had enough of Klaus and his cruel comments. You had enough of him constantly making you feel bad about yourself. He made it impossible for you to feel secure in your relationship. You felt uncomfortable in your dress, in your own skin, surrounded by people who were objectively better than you in every possible way.

"I'm going to bed," you announced, your voice quiet.

Elijah's brow furrowed, and he reached out to grasp your hand but you pulled away.

"I'm tired," you said, turning on your heel and marching out of the ballroom.

Elijah's eyes were locked on your retreating form, a frown on his face.

"Why did you call her that?" Elijah asked his brother.

"It's nothing," Klaus shrugged, a grin spreading across his face, "she's just a little sensitive,"

Elijah's frown deepened, and he glanced over at Hayley.

"She's a sweet girl, just a little insecure," Hayley sighed.

"Insecure about what?" Elijah asked.

Hayley glanced at Klaus, and he shrugged.

"She's just not really comfortable with herself," Hayley finally said, giving Klaus a pointed look.

He had no shame, his grin only grew wider, and he said, "Come on, she is rather plump, isn't she?"

"But she's so sweet and adorable," Hayley added, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.

Elijah's jaw tightened, and his expression darkened, he looked back and forth between both of them.

"You had no right to say those things to her," he told Klaus, his voice laced with anger. "She has a difficult time when it comes to seeing her own worth, you know that, she's been struggling with these issues since the day we met," Elijah continued.

"It's nothing, Elijah," Klaus shrugged, "she'll get over it, she's probably crying into her pillow right now."

The image of you, curled up in bed, sobbing, broke Elijah's heart. He clenched his fists and his eyes narrowed. Klaus really did go too far this time, he really upset you. Elijah would make sure it never happened again.

"Excuse me," he muttered, glaring at his brother before turning around and storming out of the ballroom.

Once you were safely locked away in your bedroom, you sobbed, and the tears wouldn't stop. You had done your best not to show anyone your jealousy and anger, but now everyone knew how pathetic and insecure you really were.

You didn't hear the door open or close, you didn't know Elijah was in the room until his arms were around you, holding you tight against his chest. He didn't speak, and he didn't make you look at him. He simply held you and let you cry until you had no tears left.

Once your sobs had subsided he tilted your head up and kissed your cheeks, catching every stray tear with his lips. He wiped the rest away with his thumb, his dark eyes were filled with worry.

"What happened, love?" he asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

You looked at him, feeling foolish and embarrassed. He had no idea you had been feeling this way. No one did, but now it was too late. You took a deep breath and forced the words out.

"What is it that you see in me?" you blurted out, your face red.

Elijah frowned, looking completely taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

You sighed, frustrated with his cluelessness. "I mean, look at me! I'm not exactly a supermodel."

Elijah chuckled and cupped your cheek, his hand was so warm and soft. "I'm looking," he said, his gaze raked over you and it made you blush.

"I don't understand," he continued, looking into your eyes. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

You huffed and tried to look away, but he held your chin. "I am serious. Why would you ever doubt my attraction to you?"

You bit your lip, still not sure if you should tell him the truth. "It's just...Hayley is so gorgeous, and tall and thin. Then Klaus just calls me your cherub, like I'm some stupid child."

Elijah's gaze softened and he shook his head. "Darling, Klaus was trying to get a rise out of you, don't let him get in your head."

"But he's right... Look at me, compared to her, and Klaus, and the rest of your family. I'm not even that attractive," you muttered, avoiding his eyes.

Elijah frowned and took your hand, placing it on his chest. "Can you feel that?"

You nodded, your hand could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart.

"It's yours," he said softly.

He kissed you, and your heart fluttered, feeling lighter already. His hands slid down your back and gripped your ass, he pulled you closer and you gasped. His tongue slipped into your mouth and teased yours, tasting you.

His hand moved lower and he pulled your dress up, his fingers trailed over the lace of your panties, feeling the warmth and wetness.

"I will tell you this once," he whispered, his teeth grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You are perfect."

His hand dipped into your panties and stroked you, making you moan. "So wet, all for me."

You gasped and pressed your face against his shoulder.

"Tell me who this belongs to," he demanded.

"You, Elijah, it's yours," you whimpered, grinding against his fingers.

"Yes, that's right," he purred. "This sweet, little cunt is mine. Only mine."

He pushed you onto the bed and pulled your dress over your head. He groaned when he saw you wearing the matching set of black, lacy bra and panties. 

He started kissing and marking his way down your body, starting at your neck and moving lower, biting and sucking as he went. You gasped and moaned as he reached your breasts. He undid the front clasp and licked a stripe up the middle, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, and teasing the other with his fingers.

"These are so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, sucking until they were hard peaks. "So big and soft," he hummed.

You ran your fingers through his hair, needing something to hold onto. You whimpered and arched up against him, the feeling of his hot mouth was driving you insane.

You squealed and tugged on his hair a little harder when you felt him bite down. He chuckled and sucked hard, letting your breasts go with a loud pop. They were covered in rapidly healing hickeys, and he looked very pleased with himself.

He kissed down your stomach, admiring your soft belly. He cupped it, and squeezed your thighs, making you gasp.

"My perfect girl," he mumbled against your hips.

He hooked his thumbs into your panties and slid them down your legs, you sat up on your elbows to see what he was doing.

He slid them off and leaned down, kissing and sucking on your inner thighs.

"These perfect thighs, squeezing my head when you cum on my tongue," he said, his stubble scratched and tickled you. You let out a breathy giggle as his hands roamed your body, gripping your waist and thighs. He growled with satisfaction, biting the flesh and sucking marks into your soft skin.

"Elijah, stop teasing," you groaned, becoming impatient.

He chuckled and suddenly pulled you into his lap. He held you close and looked into your eyes.

"I love every bit of your body," he hummed, holding you firmly against him. "Every perfect curve, and every soft inch.”

He gave your tummy a small squeeze and kissed your pouting lips. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.

You blushed and avoided his gaze. He cupped your cheek and tilted your head up, his fingers traced your features, his gaze was filled with adoration.

"Those beautiful lips, those gorgeous eyes, these perfect cheeks, your soft, little nose," he cooed, kissing your face between each word.

You giggled and tried to hide your face in your hands, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"And this ass," he said as he kneaded the flesh, he lifted you up and smacked it, making you yelp. "It should be in the Louvre."

He kissed you again and slowly grinded against you, his hands explored your body, caressing and squeezing. 

He scooted down the bed and laid back down, looking up at you with a wicked grin. He kept his gaze locked with yours as he pushed your ass forward, signaling he wanted you to sit on his face.

"Elijah, no, I-," you gasped, completely embarrassed. You felt so shy and nervous, not wanting him to look at you up close like that.

Elijah sat up and kissed you. "Do you think you will hurt me?" He asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"No," you breathed.

"Then what's the problem?" He asked, brushing his knuckles over your cheek.

You let out a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I don't know."

Elijah looked into your eyes, a kind smile on his lips. "If it kills me, you have discovered quite a loophole when it comes to killing an original," he said, gesturing to his face and grinning.

You giggled and pecked his lips. You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself, it was hard to explain your nerves. You'd been intimate with Elijah before, more times than you could count, but you couldn't shake your insecurities.

Elijah sensed your hesitation, he kissed your neck softly and leaned up to whisper in your ear. "Please sit on my face, I want to eat your sweet pussy until you scream."

His filthy words made you shudder and you knew you wouldn't be able to say no, so you bit your lip and took a deep breath.

"Okay," you whispered.

Elijah laid back down and gave your hips a gentle tug, pulling you into position.

Your entire body went hot when he spread your thighs apart. He kissed the insides, making you moan.

"There's a good girl," he hummed as his lips danced across your hot skin. He positioned you over his face and you could feel his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area.

He looked up at you and gave you an encouraging smile. "Sit,"

You bit your lip, but slowly lowered yourself down, inch by inch. He grabbed your ass and pulled you down fast, making you let out a squeak of surprise.

The heat pooled between your thighs as Elijah nosed at your center, teasing the soft skin. You moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair, rocking against him.

You felt a sudden sting as he nipped your thigh. "Stay still, let me do the work."

He licked a stripe up your core, groaning as he tasted you. He spread you open with his fingers, pressing his tongue flat against you, he licked long and slow. He buried his face deeper, lapping and sucking at your clit.

He licked and sucked and kissed, moaning against your soaked cunt. Your eyes rolled back, you tightened your grip on his hair and cried out. The noises he made were obscene, you could hear his mouth sucking at you, and it only made you wetter.

He looked up at you, his dark hair was a mess and his lips were covered in your slick.

"You taste divine, my love," he groaned. "So sweet, just for me."

He sucked hard on your clit, his hand reaching around and grabbing your ass roughly, squeezing and slapping the soft flesh. He growled and began fucking you with his tongue. His hands spreading you open and pressing his face as deep as possible. He buried himself in your pussy, licking, and sucking like it was his last meal. You came hard on his tongue, your thighs squeezing his head tight as you fell apart.

He soothed your flushed skin with his tongue, sucking on your clit once more, making you twitch. You tugged on his hair, gently pulling him away, not able to take the overstimulation.

You moved back and sat on his chest, trying to catch your breath. Elijah caught your wrist and brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. He was covered in your wetness, and his chin was glistening. He grinned at you, completely satisfied with himself.

You snorted and leaned down, kissing him softly. You hummed, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Elijah rolled you onto your back and pinned your wrists above your head. He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling as you stared at him with a blissful, dazed expression.

"You are so perfect," he breathed, nuzzling his nose against yours.

He kissed down the side of your face and nibbled on your ear, his free hand trailing down your body, cupping and squeezing the soft flesh of your breasts, your hips, your thighs.

"Every inch of you," he whispered.

"Elijah," you sighed, blushing from the attention.

Elijah hummed and reached down to his pants, undoing his belt and pushing them down his legs. You reached up and helped him undress, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor.

You pulled him close and kissed him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. You could feel him pressed against you, his thick cock hot and heavy against your thigh.

"Look at what you do to me," he purred, kissing down your neck.

He reached down and guided himself to your entrance, rubbing the head against you. He slid inside easily, your body opening up for him.

He rocked his hips slowly, grinding his pelvis against yours, making you moan and grip his shoulders tight.

His eyes locked with yours as he fucked you slow and deep. You clung to him, your nails leaving marks on his skin.

"You see how perfectly we fit?" He groaned, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. "Look at us,"

You both looked down, watching as he thrusted in and out of you, his slick cock disappearing into your body.

"My love, my beautiful girl," he moaned, his voice thick with emotion. "I need you to understand, no one else will ever come close to comparing. You are everything to me."

He buried his face in your neck and kissed and nipped the soft skin. "This perfect body, your heart, your soul, I will never find anyone like you."

You whined and clawed at his back, you could feel the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, you were overwhelmed and so grateful.

"I love you," you choked out, burying your face in his shoulder.

"And I love you," he breathed.

He held you close and fucked you until you were trembling, tears streaming down your cheeks, clinging to him as you climaxed, shaking and crying his name.

He finished not long after, groaning and gasping as he spilled his release inside you, holding you tight.

You both laid there, panting and covered in sweat. You felt light and dizzy, your muscles felt like jelly and it took all your strength to not fall asleep right then and there.

"I want you to know, I mean every word I say to you," Elijah said quietly, kissing your temple.

"I know, Elijah," you hummed, smiling up at him. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Always."

"And Elijah?" You smiled and nuzzled his neck.

"Yes, my love?"

"I think your ass is the one that should be in the Louvre."

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[plaidos]

how do you read caliborn genderwise? calliope is clearly and obviously a trans girl but how caliborn relates to that feels like kt can be read a couple of ways

in Homestuck proper, Caliborn and Calliope are pretty obviously both canonically trans to me (though I suppose it’s subtextual). everything we learn about cherub gender we learn through Aranea & Calliope who are… like probably the least reliable narrators in the whole comic? the implication, to me, is that Calliope projected human gender roles onto cherubs/herself… a thing we know she already does; she takes massive liberties with her understandings of the traits of different species, in an obviously quite fannish way, and we know that she doesn’t really have any relationship to cherubkind beyond herself and her brother and a couple of artefacts they had.

and then obviously, Caliborn being Caliborn, he did the same in response. he defines himself in opposition or domination to Calliope at all costs, so naturally he chose what he thought was the stronger, better, superior earth gender.

like im not saying that cherubs have literally no gender at all, i don’t know if that’s true, but the green/red and hero/villain shit they have going on is basically its own alien gender/sex system. in FACT, in obscure homestuck lore esoterica, Calliope and Caliborn’s mother is directly stated to be the historical figure Calamity Jane (Calamity — eight letters. check it) so you know i’d say if anything that’s anything but traditional femininity.

i think Caliborn & Calliope are fundamentally meant to be read as transmasc and transfem respectively. all of their dialogue and interactions makes more sense this way. Calliope and Roxy is literally the most t4t storyline of all time

[citruslullabies]

We’ve see Bee do Dad! Dogday. Let’s see your interpretation of him and how he is with child/teen reader.

On it!

Trigger warnings: none

Romantic/platonic?: platonic

Requested by: anonymous

Category: heavy fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): dad!Dogday x child!reader

Word count: 661

My Baby, My Baby

He had never wanted you to be here, never wanted you to witness the horrors that left him in ruins and you alone.

You were his angel, his cherub, his baby. You meant everything to him and all he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, and he was horrified knowing that the last time he saw you he had left without saying a word since he was running late. He wishes that he had given you a hug and squeezed you tight, told you how much he adored you. But he had grown to live with the fact that he hadn't done those things.

But here you were, and he couldn't believe it. He saw your face and wanted to cry since he immediately recognized you. And oh how you had grown, he had to look twice. You had grown into an amazing human being, but… why were you here, in this awful place? You shouldn't be here. He spoke up, still chained to the wall by the wrists with belts. But he realized something. “Y.. you.. you're poppy’s angel..”

The way he referred to you was so soft, almost as if he was in disbelief you were really here. He tried to reach out to you to hold you, but was stopped by restraints. “Come to save us, but there is nothing left to save. Not here.” He spoke solemnly, body going limp as he gave up trying to break his restraints to hold you. He was so weak.

You stared at him with big brave eyes, his voice having a hazy home in your memory but you didn't focus on that for now. You took a few steps towards him, an expression etched into your face that he himself used to make when he was determined. He wanted to cry with how much of himself he saw in you, but there was no time. He had cried too much already. You, without a single word in the painful silence, quickly tore him off the wall as if he was some outdated poster and winced at how heavy he was but pushed through.

He didn't want to weigh you down, that was the last thing he wanted. He struggled a bit in your arms in any attempt to get down, letting out a breathy huff. “Cherub, I will weigh you down. Please. Leave me, go.” He said, practically pleading for you to abandon him like he did with you so you could save yourself.

But you hadn't listened, you had always been stubborn. Haven't you? But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it was one of the many traits he adored. As you held him against your chest, all he could remember were the silly flashbacks.

Like how he would hold you the same way when you were a baby, the way you'd giggle and smile up at him like he was the only one who could make you feel that happy. How your little baby hands would grip onto anything that they could and how you'd babble, how you'd cry. This was the same way he'd hold you when you scraped your knee when trying to learn how to ride a bike during the summer at his mother's house, he remembered your salty tears flowing down your chubby face and how he'd soothe you while applying alcohol. His shirt was always stained with your tears in the end.

He couldn't help but clung onto you like you once did with him, his chest feeling heavy as he held back the tears. He felt your strained steps as you carried him instead of leaving him, and he was so proud of you. You had grown up to be an amazing person, far better than he was when he was still human. He had to stay alive, for you, at least until he knew you would escape.

He could die happy if he knew his baby was safe.

Thanks for requesting!

[neptunes-sol-angel]

BOO! 👻🎃🕸 How are you scaring people with their shadows? Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most then scroll down for the corresponding message(s). Happy Halloween my Sol-cherubs!!

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Pile One

"SHE AIN'T NO DIVAAA!"

You trigger others in a way that threatens their confidence and provoke them into a cycle of evaluating their self worth and identity after an ego death that's probably been long overdue. Some people in this group may hinder themselves back from speaking to people about anything in general, like expressing your opinion on something, talking about yourself, joining in a conversation so that you can be outgoing and network with others because you could feel like developing normal interactions with others is difficult for you. You could feel that people may find what you have to say as meaningless, they could even talk over you, or maybe you fear that people will hate you for what you say. You could also find yourself in too many situations where people are dedicated to misunderstanding you by twisting what you say or snubbing you. But despite their reactions, people strongly value what you say, and are often changed personally by even just a few words that you mention and could still think about what you've said years later whether it's from a normal conversation or an argument. I feel called to mention to this group that you shouldn't restrain yourself by muting your verbal expression in order to please others, because I'm getting that even though you aren't aware that there are people who want to listen and do listen to what you have to say and will like and respect you for who you are, you understand the weight of your words and the repercussions you face when you defend yourself and but there are times you don't in order to keep the peace. You must understand that peace is simply an illusion when you keep putting your feelings and wellbeing aside to keep people that are not even for you in your life. Tip toeing around others is not what's going to keep you safe—you gotta step on some toes to free yourself. This group has to learn both when it isn't your fault for when you trigger someone and when it is. Because I'm getting that another part of this group is more so in the darker aspect of this trait, you don't hold your tongue for anyone and when someone goes low, you go to straight to the pits of hell. You're fully aware of how you know just the right words to break someone and to intentionally offend them. Your brutal honesty isn't needed all of the time and sometimes you're not being blunt, you're just being an asshole. Reserve your poison for the people that deserve it, but it will benefit you to learn that the same way the magnitude of your words can be poison to others it also be venom used to help others heal. I know it may feel like that someone's always trying it with you but you gotta calm down and start seeing the good in humanity, because not everyone is a piece of filth that you need to sweep. The shadow work that you make other people do eventually creates a balance that keeps their egos in check and where their humility is holding them back.

Pile Two

What's chilling about you is how elusive you are. This can mean a variety of things, but one of the scenarios that I'm getting is that this pile could be adamant when it comes to holding grudges. People hate that you don't forgive them because it gives them a reality check with how entitled they feel to treat others and how they expect them to react about it afterwards. You seem to unfortunately attract a lot of people that don't take any accountability. They show up as either someone who feels like they have the right to mistreat others and have control over how their victims feel or perceive the situation or people who have lived their entire lives as victims but are in disbelief when they are in situations where they have made someone else a victim so they manipulate the situation to confirm their bias and lack of self awareness. These people are possessive over outcomes and how they want to be seen. You are very much capable of forgiving others, but you are strong with your boundaries to the point where you don't make yourself accessible anymore to the people have hurt you and this confuses them. They're used to thinking that words have more meaning than their actions or that forgiveness is something that's automatically given when asked for it, but you show them that's not exactly how it works. This makes them have to unpack guilt that they will deal with for a very long time or your absence reminds them of how powerless that they feel. Both are situations that are hard to sit with alone so these people may tend to latch on others and surround themselves with company. The shadow work that you make others do is to reflect on situations where they are habitually self-undoing.

Pile Three

What makes other people shook about you, is how unmoved you are but how you always seem to ironically move others. You could have this radical intelligence and self sufficiency where you don't care who's on your level or not. You could be isolated by others a lot, and on the outside it could look like you're out of touch with humanity, but no, you're actually way ahead of your time, they just need to catch up. The same things that people have tried to shun you for, end up becoming trends in the future. You guys are very secure with yourself and it intimidates others, but you've grown or will grow to not let that effect you anymore. I see that your purpose involves leading others. You guys could be coaches to help people break habits that maladaptively stagnate their lives, you keep yourself strong, in order to pass this on to others who finally decide that they to help themselves. Your insight isn't going to be accepted by the majority because those people are still stuck on outward appearances or are complacent with their own delusions, and it's not your responsibility to help everyone, but you're good at what you do and you have the potential to save a lot of lives with the changes that you help other people make within themselves. It doesn't even have to solely be changes either, you could motivate others to recognize what they already have within themselves too and that's so empowering. If you guys are tarot readers that are feeling down about the messages that you're trying to bring to people, I'm getting that you guys need to keep going, what you're doing is meaningful even if you can't physically see it, you awaken others deeply to things that they may not be ready to publicly share with others so give it time and remember your mission. You aren't here to entertain any thoughts of staying the same, you are here to promote growth. Don't downplay your gifts, you know what you know.

[digi-lov]

Cherubimon BT7-079 Alternative Art by As'Maria from BT-07 Booster Next Adventure

This card shows Cherubimon performing the attack Lightning Spear in Digimon Story Cyber Sleuth!

[hailturinturambar]

Thoughts on J.D and Patrick's interview

Loving the new interviews and I hope we get more content. It will be a while before season 3 is released, so anything we get is very important. And since an interview with J.D. Payne and Patrick McKay came out, I decided to share my opinions again.

I'm biased, because I have a visceral obsession with Jack Lowden, but I agree with Patrick and J.D. Jack as Sauron/Mairon rescued the beauty of the Elder Days and the delicacy of the Maiar and Elves of the First Age.

When we look at Jack Lowden's Sauron, we glimpse what Tolkien described in his books. As Patrick and J.D. say, aneglical, cherub. And this is how I imagine Sauron when he was in the service of Morgoth.

It is interesting the changes that Sauron undergoes physically when his new form is destroyed. And not only in appearance, but we have a change in his characteristics. Jack and Charlie are Sauron and the similarities are obvious, but we still notice that each one represents a phase of Sauron.

As for the time in Númenor, I admit I'm worried they'll change the actor, but considering Charlie remained as Annatar, I don't see why it would be any different. After all, he's now known in Númenor as Sauron in his Halbrand form. Charlie mentioned in an interview (I don't remember which one) that he's looking forward to the Sauron armor. So I assume he'll remain as the main form.

In my opinion, one of the biggest hits of the second season was Sauron's prologue. In the first season, we have Galadriel's prologue and she is narrating her story and the Elder Days.

This point of view, let's say, is the point of view of the heroes. Of the Elves who knew the beauty of Valinor and witnessed the evils caused by Morgoth and Sauron in Arda. This changes abruptly in the second season.

It's like one book told by the hero and the other by the villain. It's Sauron who is now telling his story. We get a more detailed introduction to Adar and his sons, how they were in Sauron's service and why they betrayed him.

What interests me most about the prologue is that we get an explanation for how Sauron came to be the mortal man Halbrand. We have a Sauron who is without a master and has to make his own way in Middle-earth, and then we see a broken Sauron struggling to survive. Until we finally meet Halbrand.

And indeed, Sauron's past explains much about his hatred of Elves and Orcs, and how he sees himself and the goals that will guide Sauron to Celebrimbor's path in Eregion.

When Tom's first episode came out, I saw a lot of negative comments about the character's portrayal. I like almost all of Trop's decisions in how the characters are presented, so I can't be impartial at times, but I still don't understand the criticism.

When we think about Tom Bombadil, we can't base ourselves on all previous sources. PJ fans often criticize the choices made by TROP, but Tom was an interesting addition. Is he different from the LOTR period? Of course he is! We are too far removed from Frodo to use such a comparison. LOTR Tom is not TROP Tom. He still has a long way to go.

Saruman was a general assumption, I would say. But I wouldn't want it to be Saruman. That character, in my opinion, can wait. I don't see a need for him in the plot right now. And I would like to know who this new character is in TROP. I like the characters created in the show, so I'm curious.

My opinion on this point may be a bit controversial. The mystery of who Sauron is in the first season was intriguing, I think for all of us. Even though we suspected Halbrand, we thought that many characters could be Sauron or that perhaps Sauron would not be introduced at all.

And I particularly enjoyed the reveal of Sauron at the end of season 1. This new form with new traits and deceptions was different from the Sauron in the books and I enjoyed how they set up the Halbrand/Sauron storyline.

As for Gandalf/The Stranger, well, I found it a bit tiresome in the second season. It was generally obvious in the first season and I was following the revelation closely. But I don't think it needed to be dragged out until the second season. Anyway, it wasn't that bad and maybe I'm being harsh.

I don't see how this could have worked and I don't like it one bit. I'm glad they changed it.

Sauron in Adar's camp doesn't make sense to me. Sauron was in Eregion forging the rings, why go to Adar's camp? We already had Halbrand meeting Adar at the beginning of the season. Galadriel and Adar meeting again didn't need Sauron's intervention or influence. It was time for us to glimpse the reunion of these two.

I can't think of Sauron in Adar's camp as anything other than an attempt to maintain the idea of ​​Sauron and Galadriel's romance. Other than that, it wouldn't add anything to the story. And I liked how they did it better.

I love SW, so I think this was the ideal reunion. Two opposing forces of Light and Darkness dueling, each trying to resist the temptation of the other, while being influenced by them.

I never thought of Elendil and Míriel as a couple when I read the books that featured the tales of Númenor. But as soon as I laid eyes on them in the series, oh my!

The chemistry was right there, being rubbed in my face. And if we think about Míriel and Elendil's future after the arrival of Sauron and the Fall of Númenor, that's what attracts everyone the most, isn't it? All the anguish and the impossibility of being together. I'll pick up my crumbs!

I was so infuriated by the comments on the internet when the Orc family was introduced. In short, I think it proves how ignorant people are of Tolkien's work if they didn't understand what was being represented there.

Everything in TROP talks about the tragedy that befalls all beings in Middle-earth. Why would it be any different with the Orcs? We know about all the evils caused by the Orcs, but in a war, evil comes from all sides, right? Comments about "TROP humanizing the Orcs" make no sense and are only said to harm the audience's view of the series.

TROP simply presents the point of view of all the characters and how they see themselves. Feeling sympathy or not for each one is not forced, it is just presented. And I like this dynamic.

The most important thing in Tolkien is the duality of the characters. Even though in the Third Age the line between black and white is more defined, in the first stories it is not. And TROP explores this well.

Because for Adar, they are not Orcs, they are children, and that is how they also see themselves. Because they are like the Elves, they have lives and families and live like all beings. But it is their choices that separate them from Men and Elves and that is where we enter the tragedy.

They are seen as monsters, so they do not fight for a different vision, because they would never be able to be seen any other way. Even though Adar's actions are wrong, like Sauron's, with both Adar and Sauron, we end up becoming attached to these damaged characters and we feel sorry for them.

No, don't be mean and tell me about season 3!

J.D. and Patrick's love for the history of Middle-earth is truly infectious. It's remarkable that they put their souls into the show and are committed to telling a beautiful story that honors Tolkien.

Don't judge me if you like the movies (I like LOTR, but not more than the series) but I feel that in TROP we really travel to Middle-earth, in a way that connects different people from different places and different ages.

I first watched the LOTR Trilogy (I hated The Hobbit movies, don't judge me) when I was a child or almost a teenager, I don't remember well. And although I liked it, I didn't feel completely connected.

But that's how I feel about TROP. When I watch an episode, I feel the same way I do when I'm reading one of Tolkien's countless books. And that feeling is so good.

TROP makes me feel at home, living the story. TROP means comfort to me and I hope the series lasts a long time.

[vagabond-umlaut]

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Just wanted to tell you that pitch fefnep is real as fuck and I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.

Are there any other pitch ships you seriously live for?

My big one is Eridan <3< Calliope (#callidan let's make it happen)! There's a lot of karmic stuff linking them together - I'm not going to say it ALL here, but suffice to mention that cherubs are naturally attracted pitch-wise to people who resemble the half they lost in predomination, and Eridan literally made his username "cal" (caligula, so it's even 8 letters, lmao).

Personality-wise, though, fully-character-developed Eridan and Calliope are like a match made in hell. Eridan is violent, obsessed with murder, deliberately likes to style himself as an arrogant, evil despot, says a lot of slurs, is a complete moron who doesn't listen to people but believes in stuff very very strongly anyways, and, assuming he's finished his character arc, somehow still manages to be a force for good. This makes him similar to Caliborn in a lot of ways (Hussie even calls Eridan a sort of proto-Caliborn MULTIPLE times in the book commentary), and Calliope would have a lot to get infuriated by, especially since that last point would give Eridan that "i hate everything about you, BUT..." factor that makes a pitch relationship work.

OTOH, Calliope gets super fucking smug when she starts winning, Eridan would 100% see her as a poser wizard (who needs to load their MAGIC WAND with BULLETS????) as well as a poser troll. She would also definitely adopt a stance of "every life is precious," and already displayed compassion and forgiveness to a dangerous degree wrt Caliborn, and all of this would probably piss Eridan off. Also, Eridan is easy, and the fact that Calliope is actually willing to entertain him in pitch at all is probably enough to get him to date her in blackrom all by itself. LBR, all it really takes to date Eridan is just being willing to date Eridan. This is both a low and high bar to clear.

Given that murdering and genocide-obsessing literally kept his friends alive long enough to play the game, I just can't see Eridan ever becoming a pacifist, or even coming to see murder as a bad thing (even if he'd feel bad about and apologize for murdering his friends specifically).

It'd also be pretty bad if the Hope player (ideals, convictions, faith, and also turning fake stuff real) had wrong beliefs, so Eridan's character arc wouldn't so much see his obsession with murder dropped so much as having it reoriented, his focus becoming "I care about my friends and will do anything to make sure they succeed in creating a better world. I'd kill for them. I will kill for them. I am going to kill for them."

He's still kind of a token evil teammate as a result - the guy who pipes up at every town hall to go, "y'know, murder is on the table. I'm not saying that I want to do it or even that we should, but I'm just reminding you that it's a tool in our arsenal, and something our enemies might resort to" as well as the debbie downer who reminds people that meat comes from animals that used to have families.

Plus, given that his hipster stuff ties in with being a Hope player - the staunch and firm beliefs in there being "better" stuff, the unshakeable conviction and dedication toward being anti-mainstream, and the fact that it's one of his few genuine interests besides magic - that trait actually gets exacerbated in lieu of the fake pro-empire, dualscar-emulating stuff he was doing before.

So, basically, Eridan given the full redemption arc + character development combo would spit out an Eridan that's MORE annoying than he was before? Because, like, not only is he a turbo pretentious hipster now, but he's also the "heartbreaking: the worst person you know just made an excellent point" guy. He's comfortable in his own skin, no longer trying to be something he isn't. Instead, with absolute, non-negotiable, unshakeable faith in himself, he is 100% of what he is.

"What he is," of course, being a neurotic, murder-obsessed, low-empathy lunatic with zero social skills, a pretentious hipster, a cringe-ass wizard who won't shut up about it and has no self-awareness of how cringe he's being, still 100% aggro 100% of the time, and an obsessive simp. In a very leftist/existentialist way, he would fully own up to having done horrible things, and being willing to do them again, should the circumstances call for them. "Shameless" is probably a good word to use, here.

Meanwhile, Calliope is genuinely well-meaning as fuck, even if she doesn't fully grasp things like "humans going trickster mode is bad actually" and that her fascination/obsession with the trolls and kids as "characters" still borders on dehumanizing.

Still, it's clear that she operates from a place of love and admiration, and given a lease on life free from her brother and surrounded by friends, I do genuinely believe Calliope's arc culminates in her being the embodiement of the ideas that we must be good to each other, kind to each other, loving to each other, and trust and care for each other. After all, she has it within her; her alternate self was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for the good of several universes.

Still, Calliope as this cosmic, karmic force of good - what the comic ultimately exonorates and treats as something worthy of protection and rescue - sets her up against Eridan ideologically really well. Calliope represents "we must do good" in the most optimistic sense - people will be kind back if you are kind to them, and to create a loving society, a caring society, we must care about others, we must believe in others.

Meanwhile, Eridan would represent "we must do good" in the most dark and pessimistic sense - we must be prepared to sacrifice for each other, we hold duties to one another, we must be our best selves because we owe it to each other, we must not accept complacency, we must be ever-vigilant of our worst tendencies, we must take responsibility. No society exists without sacrifice, no revolution is without bloodshed, and nothing is ever worth fighting for that won't eventually need to be fought for - and who will do the fighting? The society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools, etc.

Like how pitch FefNep works for me on this axis of pragmatism vs. idealism - Feferi and Nepeta are both fundamentally duking it out over what it means to create and administer a society, with Nepeta representing unbridled freedom, while Feferi brings to the table controlling restraint. Neither is fully correct on their own - Nepeta is anarchic, and so her ideals are inherently unstable, while Feferi is fascistic, which can cause great harm. It's Hegalian dialectics. Thesis, antithesis, and their union/rivalry is the synthesis into a greater nuanced balance between the two.

Callidan works for me in the same way: Calliope and Eridan are both fundamentally aiming to create a world that's good, and Calliope says, we must be kind, while Eridan says, we must be cruel. They're both correct, and both have an ideal that can't stand on its own. Calliope's hardline stance of pure compassion lets bad apples take advantage, while Eridan's hardline stance of sacrifice and personal responsibility leads to misery and unfulfillment. Together, they strike a harmony.

And also they'd be so funny together. Like

UU: i believe that in order to create a kind and beaUtifUl world, we mUst be kind to each other. we mUst believe in each other no matter what. there is no fUtUre if it is not boUnd in love, trUst, and empathy.

CA: yeah fuckin right dont tell me you actually BELIEVVE that codswwallop those ideals sure held up wwhen wwe MURDERED THE EVVER LOVVIN SHIT OUTTA YOUR BROTHER

CA: reality aint so fuckin simple evvery societys got sacrifices need doin evvil bastards need killin and somebodys got to pull the trigger

UU: i swear, speaking with yoU is aboUt as pleasant as a sandpaper facial.

UU: and yet i continUe to do so, and do yoU know why? it's becaUse i do, in fact, believe in what i said, and i will, in fact, continUe to treat yoU with *love and compassion* despite yoUr repeated efforts to throw mine into the bin!!!!!!!!!!!

CA: i nevver asked for your so called lovve and compassion skullhag and i dont bloody need it either

UU: well, that's jUst too bad, isn't it? poor eridan, yoU were treated so poorly on alternia, and now yoU're angry and Upset all the time. my heart aches for yoUr plight!

CA: ill showw you a flippin PLIGHT scumskull meet me at the usual place

UU: <kisses> ~3U

UU's computer exploded!

uranianUmbra [UU] began cheering caligulasAquarium [CA]

UU: STOP DOING THAT.

Also... they're both British... so it's British on British violence... IDK that personally really elevates it for me

[baji-sideblog]

Flowers and Guns

Cw reader’s hand gets hurt, sexual harassment, alludes to dub con/non con in the end

❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀

You’re new to this city, Lav Amoria, the capital of Cherubs. Every building around was built with the idea of trees in mind. A cylinder of concrete that branched off to hold office buildings, homes, and everything else. They’re still buildings on the ground though they’re typically small businesses or apartment complexes. Plus a couple of buildings for tourists. There is one thing that is everywhere though lights! Lots of gorgeous lights and signs everywhere.

You just moved here a few days ago, looking for a new start on life. And so far it’s been a struggle the job you got here fired you on your first day. For no real reason besides apparent budget cuts. Leaving you to walk around looking for a potential place hiring. As you walk around you spot a small flower shop it looks pretty empty, but you need a job. Taking a deep breath you walk over and enter the shop. The flowers are pretty decent if not bland, like no one really put any thought into the stock. The decor was ok, overall it’s just a bland store.

“Um hello? Is anyone here?”

You stand by the register waiting for anyone to come out. You really hope you’re not just breaking it, the door is unlocked so they should be open. Hopefully.

As your mind races about the potential breaking in you may or may not have committed, the back door swings opens and a cherub with peacock feathers gets tossed out of it.

“Johnny I swear to the gods, if you don’t fix up your mess you’re going to be swimming in your own blood,” a huge muscular chubby man walks out after him, a fat cigar in his mouth.

The first thing you notice about him is his cherub and incubus traits. His antlers look like deaths hands ready to strangle a person.

“I’ll fix it boss, I’ll fix it I promise,” Johnny stands up dusting himself off.

You slowly take a step back, but the ‘boss’ lifts up his hand pointing at you without looking.

“Hold it toots, what brings you to our uh little shop of ours.”

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything! I was just looking for a job,” you squeak out scared.

“Well there’s no job here so get the fu-“

The boss dust his cigar ash onto Johnny’s head making him yelp and try to shake it off.

“Excuse his behavior sweet thing, he has no manners,” he walks closer to you, “We have been looking for a proper cashier for the business. My other employees are busy with other jobs. So having a good looking face like yourself here to front for the store would be good.”

He leans down to meet your face, his eyes empty of any emotion besides a sick type of joy. He takes a drag off his cigar before blowing the smoke into your face, making you cough and wheeze. What did you get into.

“I uh, I don’t know…”

He slams his claw hand onto the wall behind you blocking off the door, “Come now, don’t be like that. You’ll be paid decently all you have to do is run the shop and tell us if anyone tries snooping around. This job is something you can’t just refuse, if you catch my drift.”

You gulp and nod, “W-When do I start?”

“Today, since Johnny has to go clean up something. You’ll be needed right away.” He reaches on the top of your head and plucks something. Pulling it over to his nose you can see it’s a purple thought flower, fear. “Thanks for the meal, sweet thing.”

He eats the flower and grabs your arm, firmly pulling you to the cash register. He signals to the peacock cherub to get the fuck out, which he quickly does.

“Now little thing, you know how to work this right?”

Looking down at the cash register you see it’s an older one, they probably got for cheap with a card reader attachment that looks like it could break any second. At least the buttons on it are simple to read and use.

You nod making the man smile, “Good now I don’t got to worry about training you. And here by the way you’ll need this.”

He hands you a little black book inside it is filled with photos of cops and their names.

“Any of these guys come in press the button under the desk, if they try coming towards the back you spam it like your life depends on it. Cause well it does. If you try to pull anything or run, my boys will find you and you’ll regret testing me,” he grabs your left hand pulling it close to him, and he dusts his cigar ash onto it. You whine and whimper feeling the ash burn against your skin till he blows it off of you, “Wouldn’t want to burn that precious little face of yours now would we?”

You shake your head no, and he tightens his grip on your left hand bruising it.

“Use your words.”

“No, sir.”

“Good job, sweet thing. You deserve a prize,” he lets go of your hand, walking over to the cabinet behind you pulling out an apron with a flower on the front and the name of the store, “Here you go, your new work apron.”

He puts it on you and ties a bow in the back. Taking a step back he examines you closely, before a frown goes across his face. He grabs a nearby rose and removes the thorns, then he tucks the flower between your hair and ear.

“Perfect now you look more like a proper florist. Give me a spin.”

You try to hide the confuse look on your face, as you do what he says, spinning for him.

“Avebu, avebu.”

“Avebu?”

“Avebu. Now be good and man the register. I’ll be working in the back. Do not enter it.”

“Yes sir.”

You can see his tail feathers flicker hearing you call him sir, “You’re learning fast sweet thing. I can use someone with decent behavior like yours. Especially someone who’s easy to train. Tell me what’s your life like?”

Hesitantly you explain your life to him answering any and all questions he ask.

“You keep getting better and better, you’re such a normal person. A normal person like you, will make the prefect cover for me. Even with many people in my pocket, it’s best to always have some extra protection,” he puts his hands on your hips bring you closer to him, “You’ll be my fiancé, my little dear who just moved here to be with me. And now works with me cause why wouldn’t you help your future husband with his little flower business. And before you try to argue with me about it. You don’t have a choice not if you want to keep your tongue.”

His feathered hands trail down and grab your ass fondling you. You look away uncomfortable till he finally lets you do, stepping into the back. You let out a breath and lay against the counter.

“I shouldn’t have ever come here.”

The day goes by slow, but as soon as it hit 4 pm and he let you go. You book it back to your apartment and lock the door. Collapsing on your bed for the day.

You hear banging on your door waking you up with a startle. Grabbing your phone you check the time seeing it’s 7:30 am you must have passed out last night. Getting up you open the front door to see a secretary bird cherub standing there. Her long white hair covers frames her face perfectly, as if she’s made from marble.

“Oh hello. May I help you?”

“Yeah, my uncle wanted to make sure you came to work on time.”

“Your uncle…oh”

“Yeah. Come on pipsqueak, get dress so we can get going,” she grabs your shoulders and push you to your room to change, “and don’t try climbing out the window, I’ve been given permission to shoot your legs.”

After a few minutes mostly constantly of panicking internally, you step out in some clothes and your apron. The woman examines you before pointing to your head.

“Your flower that’s apart of the uniform as well.”

You grab it off your side table and she puts it in your apron pocket. Saying it’s her uncles orders for you not to put it on yourself. She drags you to her car and drives to the flower shop. It’s very awkward the silence and the fact she has permission to shoot you. Plus you don’t want to see that man..especially not after he grabbed your ass.

“…so how are you two related?”

She gives you a side glare making you shut your mouth tightly.

“I’m going to get shot.”

“He’s my dad’s brother,” she sighs out, “His death was sudden but not surprising in this line of business. My uncle took me in after his death.”

“I see, I’m sorry about your loss,” you don’t know what else to say.

She nods and stares back at the road, parking in front of the store. When you two step inside you spot the boss waiting for you by the cash register.

“Ah, Patty thank you for bringing them here,” he ruffles her hair and she swats his hand away. Before trying to fix it.

“Tu avey cautus,” she starts walking to the back, “Ik tu vesta tu, captas tu.”

“Gralus.”

When she closes the door the boss turns to you holding out his hand expectantly. You blink confused till you realize he wants the flower. Quickly taking it out placing it in his hand. He hums and tucks the flower between your ear and hair like yesterday.

“Avebu. Now open up shop, and remember if anyone in the book appears press the button.”

“Yes sir.”

He hides his tiny smirk and walks into the back. You get everything ready for the day and serve the one or two customers that drop by. Most of your time is spent by yourself, cleaning up to distract yourself. Trying to ignore the unshakable feeling of dread that surrounds you.

Hours pass by with no one coming in, your lunch break is almost here in about ten minutes. You’re in the middle of wiping down a shelf when you hear the door open. Rushing back to the desk, you look at the potential customer who came in. He seems familiar, opening the black book, you try to keep a poker face realizing the man is a cop. Officer Graham, he looks like he’s been around the block. You press the button under the desk panic filling your heart. You don’t want to get in trouble with the law, but you also rather not get murdered by your boss.

Graham walks over to you, “Hello, I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh uh yeah, I just moved here.”

“Hm, and you so happen to work here?”

“I just uh it was the only job that would have me.”

He stares deeply into your eyes, till his face relaxes and he sighs, “I see. A word of advice you better be careful out and about the city. Even in this time of peace, some of us cherubs still have a want for bloodshed. And those who should know better have been letting those who shouldn’t have free rein. I don’t want you or any other innocent folk getting caught in this mess. They’ll turn a blind eye to anything these days sadly.”

You nod letting out a shaky breath, “Thank you…I, I thought this place would be safe..”

“I know, many people do. They do their best to hide the mess to not ruin tourism…if you need anything you can call me,” He hands you his number, “Day or night I’ll be there. You’re a good egg I can tell.”

You tear up a little bit from his kindness, a part of you just wants to break down and tell him everything that’s happening so he can save you.

“If your boss here does anything sketchy you can make a difference by coming forward, even the higher ups won’t be able to deny the truth.”

“Officer Graham, you’re not bothering my fiancé now are you?” your boss walks up behind you putting his hand on your hip. His grip on you is tight and uncomfortable, “Don’t make me kick you out for scaring them with all your conspiracy junk. They’re a delicate flower, and a man’s gotta protect what’s his. But what would you know about that.”

You force your mouth shut looking away, trying not to shiver and squirm away from the boss’s touch. No matter how much you want to run from his grip, you know it’s no use.

“You shut your mouth Wolfgang. You’re not allowed to talk to me like that. And they can speak for themself.”

“Heh, you forget this isn’t your property. And as their fiancé I can say what is good for them. And if you going to harass my dear or me, I have full rights to kick you out. And there’s nothing you can do about that. What will it be, officer?”

Graham growls at Wolfgang his feathers puffing up. You shrink back scared something bad is going to happen you don’t want to get hurt. Graham’s eyes glance to you and seeing your fear the man huffs backing off.

“Fine, I’m onto you. And you, you better take care and consider who you’re going to ‘marry.’” Graham walks out of the shop leaving you alone with the boss.

Wolfgang spins you around and slams you against the counter his arms trapping you, “Hand me his card now.”

You do, your hands shaking at your salvation being stolen from you. He grabs the card ripping it to pieces tossing it in the trash can.

“You’re never allowed to speak to that man again. I can’t have my sweet little fiancé get tangled up with anyone or become a rat. Especially when you’re my cover,” he takes off one of his rings and a fancy ribbon from the counter. Making a makeshift necklace he puts it on you, “I’ll get you a proper engagement ring soon, sweet thing. For now this will do. I can’t have anyone thinking you’re up for grabs.”

Wolfgang looks around and walks over to the front door locking it and pulls down the blinds blocking any peeping eyes.

“Everyone already left through the back, which means we’re by ourselves for a good two hours. Nows a better time than ever to start teaching you how to be a good fiancé for me,” he grabs your shoulders forcing you onto your knees, “You’ll be expected to fulfill all the real duties of a spouse. Let’s start with getting you use to using that throat or yours.”

❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀

Avebu-beautiful

Tu avey cautus-they’re good cover

Ik tu vesta tu, captas tu-if you want them, take them

Gralus-thank you

❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ ❀

[nightcolorz]

So you seem to be the Armand expert and I have a few questions!

So what are the clear differences between like the book and movie and show Armand like what facets of the characters remain and which facets changed?

Also which aspects of each interpretation do you like? (Like what show Armand difference do you like) and which aspects of book Armand do you wish they would include in a future season? (Hope I’m making sense!)

AHH TY!!! (Being called an Armand expert is my favorite thing lmao)

I assume when in comes to book vs show vs movie u are asking me to talk about the changes of the character that r less superficially obvious (so u don’t expect me to just list height and age and ethnicity differences and be done with it lol). But either way, to start out, book Armand is Ukrainian, 5’6, ginger, cherub like, was turned into a vampire at 17. Show Armand is Indian, 6’0, lean and muscular, turned into a vampire at 27. Movie Armand is Antonio banderas, lmao.

I think the change that most significantly alters the adaptations of Armand from book Armand is the age change. In the books Armand being turned into a vampire as a teenager is essential to everything about him, backstory and personality wise. To keep Armand the same while aging him up you have to do a lot of substitutions that justify why he is like that that don’t include “he has the mind of a teenager”. What they do with show Armand is kind of like, imagine if there was an adaptation where the writers wanted Claudia to have a similar core conflict as she did in the books but she was aged up to be turned into a vampire when she was an adult. How do u keep the essence of the tragedy that way?? And the what the show does is, it justifies Armand being 27 by in some ways reducing his maturity and prolonging his trauma so that a similar affect to being mentally a child comes about anyway. Show Armand isnt physically a child like book Armand is, but bcus of his trauma he thinks like one. Instead of an adult trapped in the body and mind of a child he’s a child stumbling around in the body of an adult, which is rlly interesting. With this, I get the impression that book armand is more mature, self reliant, and well rounded than show Armand is. Which is funny considering he’s the 17 yr old lmaoo. But rlly, book Armand’s emotional problems and his stunted growth come from outside factors, it’s almost like a psychical disability in a way. Show Armand isnt psychically stunted, so to make the character conflict work he is just extra emotionally stunted. So he’s less functioning, in a weird way, then book Armand.

book Armand is also an angrier character then show Armand. Book Armand has mountains of betrayal and hurt and anger stored in his 5’6 ass body. He has that teen boy spite streak, yknow. Book Armand is very psychically violent and confrontational. The way he preforms violence is often very methodical, he’s the ripping wings of a butterfly type. Show Armand has some of these traits, but his violent tendencies are seemingly more controlled than book Armand, who is genuinely unhinged. Show Armand has a stronger reign over his behavior and acts out of anger less often. He is more so just looking to survive than to kill and maim. I think one of the most book Armand scenes in the show was definitely Armand torturing Daniel in episode 5. Violent torture coming from a strange place of childlike curiosity and betrayal is a big thing with Armand throughout the book series.

But despite the violence, book Armand is genuinely more mature then show Armand. He’s more confident, self reliant, and adult by the 80s than show Armand is in 2020. While show Armand has been living with Louis for 77 yrs and hasn’t experienced life ever when he’s not clinging to someone else, book Armand is able to rebuild himself and develop into a functioning independent person. I do think show Armand will become more and more like book Armand as the show progresses, however.

movie Armand is a different character entirely lmao. He’s basically just Armand in the first book taken out of context and played by antonio banderas. He has as much individual character as an audio book narrator lmao. His lack of backstory and older casting that alienates Armand from his core traits and motives makes it hard for me to see him as anything but a watered down extension of book Armand lol.

my favorite part of show Armand is Assad’s wet cat performance, lol. I love how they keep Armand’s book backstory broadly the same and flesh out and add parts that make it more interesting. And I love how they made Armand a person of color, that is probably my favorite change made in the show in general. I love that book Armand is a teenager, and it’s a shame that I’ll never see an adaptation exploring what that means for his character, but I’m happy with how amc is re inventing the material to be just as interesting. I hope they start to include the nuances of book Armand introduced in queen of the damned (aka: the autism). The revelation that Armand is oddly whimsical, earnestly curious, and fascinated with being a part of human society is what I think is essential to humanizing and endearing him to the audience.

ty for the ask!

[ineffableparents]

Do you have any head canons for Cherub and Jay (ie, interests, personality traits)?

Chreub is chaotic and adventurous, more of a spitfire like Crowley but more outgoing than him. She has a fiery temper and rushes into things without thinking too hard about it. Jay is quiet and gentle and doesn't talk a lot in their toddler years. They inherited Aziraphales love for books and the arts, They're a skilled artist with a passion for translating what they see in the world to paper and canvas. Jay is a bit of a cuddle monster, but feels awkward asking for hugs as an adult. The two siblings are very close, Though Cherub bosses Jay around (not that it bothers them a lot)