#I think I just let my perfectionist side get to me sometimes because there's a lot of amazing writers here

[epitomees]

I’m to punch your writing bad vibes so get your butt ready.

To be slightly personal, your writing has been one of my inspirations for a while now. If I had to describe your style, it doesn’t dip into overly flowery purple prose that makes it difficult to tell what is going on, but it's meaty enough to put me into a character’s shoes and really give me a sense for the emotions they feel and why they feel that way. Little details like usage of punctuation, bolds, italics, caps, etc. truly sell your muses as their own person, complete with distinct voices. These little things may go unnoticed, but to me, It’s the little things like these that really show how much care and effort you put into your writing.

And generally, it really gives me motivation to sit down and write, whether it’s for a reply or something personal.

Your writing is very satisfying to read, and I know I’ve said it multiple times before, but it has truly opened my eyes to characters I would have normally been apprehensive or understood little about if not for you. There’s something about how you write P5 related content that makes me wish you were in charge of the game. You really hit all the things I enjoy about the game and seamlessly incorporate it to your writing, as well as improve its shortcomings.

(To be slightly personal again, your enthusiasm for this game, through IC content or OOC posts, is one of the reasons why I’ve been able to slowly come up with ideas on how to slap my P4 muses into P5, but more importantly, enjoy the game for what it is. Without you, I have no doubts that it would have taken me much longer to appreciate it.)

Of course, your writing achieving this effect would not be possible without your understanding of the game, its themes and its characters. Not just P5, mind you. P4, too. Despite me knowing the events of the game almost by heart, you always bring up something fresh about it that makes me view it in a new light and keep the P4 era going in my heart, and by P4 era, I mostly mean Naoto.

I know you’ll make me fall in love with P3 all over again soon, so I’m looking forward to that :^)

There is a lot more for me to say, you being a cherished friend is one of them, and also that you are a horrible little gremlin for encouraging my illness known as Naoto Disease, just to name a few things, but that’s for a later date, since I don’t want to make this ask stretch on for miles.

PS remember that I won’t stop loving you dani-lion xoxo

((You are a damn good, genuine friend, Liz. I needed to hear this.))

[misc-obeyme]

OBEY ME ZODIAC SIGNS

I mentioned in this post that I had opinions about this & @impish-ivy left a tag saying she’d like to know my thoughts on it. And as we all know, a single tag is all it takes! So here I am!

Lemme start by giving you my qualifications… I have none. Unless you count growing up with a hippie for a mom who was really into the zodiac & astrology so I spent all my life hearing about it. And I mean she’d read books to me on the topic. She also taught me quite a bit about the tarot and I could get into some symbolism there, too, but let's save that for a different post. (Not me assigning each character a card from the Major Arcana.)

Nowadays I mostly use it to help me remember the birthdays I choose for my OCs lol. It's fun to think about for character creation. But in the end, this is all just my opinion based on what I know of the zodiac! It's all just for fun~

For quick reference, I am going to list the zodiac signs, their symbols, their associated element, and their date ranges.

Aries | The Ram | Fire | March 21 - April 19

Taurus | The Bull | Earth | April 20 - May 20

Gemini | The Twins | Air | May 21 - June 20

Cancer | The Crab | Water | June 21 - July 22

Leo | The Lion | Fire | July 23 - August 22

Virgo | The Virgin | Earth | August 23 - September 22

Libra | The Scales | Air | September 23 - October 22

Scorpio | The Scorpion | Water | October 23 - November 21

Sagittarius | The Archer | Fire | November 22 - December 21

Capricorn | The Goat | Earth | December 22 - January 19

Aquarius | The Water Bearer | Air | January 20 - February 18

Pisces | The Fish | Water | February 19 - March 20

Please Note: I do take the cusp into consideration. When someone is born on the cusp, it means they were born on a day that is on the cusp of two signs. For example, someone born on April 19 would be considered on the cusp of Aries and Taurus. This means they can have some traits of the sign they're on the cusp of. I think of it as a date range. So in the above example, I would consider April 17 - April 22 the cusp range of Aries and Taurus. The Aries traits would be stronger on the Aries side and the Taurus traits are strong on the Taurus side. I will sometimes refer to this as being a "cuspie" because lol it's cute, right?

Okay let’s get into it because I can tell they did not consider the characters' astrological signs at all when they chose their birthdays.

LUCIFER: JUNE 6 - GEMINI

Now obviously his birthday was meant to be a reference to 666. Since it's 6/6 and all. But that cute little reference also makes him a Gemini. A GEMINI. (Hi hello, actual Gemini here, there is just no way.) Gemini is an air sign that's known for being good at communication, artistic, flighty, and easily bored. Does any of that sound like Lucifer to you? There is no way a Gemini would ever be caught dead at a factory tour, okay? (I would, but I'm also a cuspie so I got just enough Taurus in me to be interested in a factory tour lol.)

I say he should have been a Cancer. Now before you come at me and say what Lucifer as a weepy Cancer you can't be serious, don't you mean he should've been a prideful Leo? No. Because Leos also like being the center of attention. If Lucifer was a Leo, he would absolutely thrive on Diavolo's constant compliments. Lucifer is a crab and we all know it! Hard exterior, putting on that prideful and competent persona, but soft and squishy inside. Only weepy in private, but secretly longs to weep. LOL. Also? Intense mood swings because of overwhelming feelings. And also also? Family obsessed. Will kill for those they love.

MAMMON: SEPTEMBER 10 - VIRGO

As hilarious as it is to consider that Mammon is the Virgin, there is no way. Mammon as an earth sign at all is silly enough, but add in the fact that Virgos are practical and perfectionists and I'm just like… not this guy lol. I think Virgos can also be a bit shy at first too. And like you could say Mammon acts like he doesn't like you at first because he's secretly shy, but I think it's more about damaging his cool guy rep.

No, I think Mammon should've been a Gemini. Flighty air sign. Easily bored. But with a wild imagination that can come up with, you guessed it, schemes. In his case money making schemes. They also like to be aware of the trends, always looking at the new shiny things. Geminis are smart, but not always good at applying their smarts. The other thing about Geminis? They're deeply emotionally intelligent, but you can't always tell right away. This is why they're kinda known for the whole "two faced" thing (which is not really accurate tbh). They have a light and airy and fun personality on top, but underneath they can be serious and understand the needs of others. And once you befriend them, they are ride or die.

LEVIATHAN: APRIL 9 - ARIES

Absolutely not. An Aries is a bold fire sign, they're courageous, assertive, and a natural leader. That is like the exact opposite of Levi.

I honestly had a difficult time deciding what I think Levi's sign should be. But in the end, I settled on Virgo. Mostly because Virgos can be neurotic and end up worrying themselves into disorder and that sounds more like Levi than anything else. I also think the practicality and perfection can apply when considering how carefully Levi pursues his hobbies. He's always on top of when things are happening, displays his merch meticulously, and cares about all the little details.

SATAN: OCTOBER 20 - LIBRA

Uhhh sooooo I mean…. listen, the main thing about Libras, in my opinion, is that they are super friendly. They like having a large group of friends. And like Satan has connections, but I'm not sure if that's really the same thing. He's been known to isolate himself for days just to read without stopping. Like that does not seem like the social butterfly type to me. He's also a cuspie, so there could be elements of Scorpio mucking up those Libra sensibilities. But I still don't really think that makes a lot of sense.

I'm kinda feeling Capricorn for Satan. Someone who cares about rules and regulations. Someone who's willing to help family and friends at the drop of a hat. Ambitious and successful and willing to put in the work, including in relationships. Even better if you give him December 23 or 24, so he's juuuuust on the cusp of Sagittarius. Thus giving him the Sag's pursuit of knowledge quality and a lil dash of childlike wonder ('cause of how he is with cats lol).

ASMODEUS: MAY 16 - TAURUS

Truly an affront to all things astrological. Do you really expect me to believe that Asmo is a Bull? Please. Like yeah, a Taurus can be passionate, but they're also stubborn and stable and kiiinda set in their ways. And yo that ain't Asmo, friends.

Asmo should've been a Leo. The type of person who turns heads just by existing. They're unapologetically themselves and they know how enticing they are to others. A bright, bold, fire sign that'll blaze into a room, full of confidence and ready to start the party. Can be a little too into themselves, but they're also full of generosity and a warmth that attracts people. I would also have been okay with Libra, but I think Leo is more accurate.

BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR: MARCH 11 - PISCES

This one fits. Beel really is a Pisces. Emotional, caring, highly family oriented. Maybe a little weepy. Pisces is a good choice for the twins. Not only do you have the dual fish as their symbol, but I think Belphie is what you get when a sweet Pisces suffers from intense trauma. Zodiac signs only really take into consideration general characteristics. People change how they act from life experience, too, and no amount of being born under the fish is going to change that for Belphie. Inside, he's got that caring and emotional state that Beel wears on his sleeve. Belphie just had to build armor around it because that's how he has reacted to being hurt. So I actually think this sign works for both of them.

DIAVOLO: OCTOBER 31 - SCORPIO

Well, he's got the passion anyway. I dunno I feel like Scorpios are also overly dramatic, tend to hold grudges, and kinda do whatever they want. Like they give in to their emotions a lot. Diavolo just doesn't feel like a Scorpio to me. Maybe if he was a little more devious than he is.

I think Diavolo should have been an Aries. The fire symbolism is nice and the fact that it's a ram is also funny (MC being a sheep right), but straight up an Aries is a good leader, they're courageous and adventurous. They love new experiences, kinda like Dia being obsessed with human world stuff he's never experienced before. They rush into things sometimes - anyone remember a baby!Dia trapping Barbatos? This is like he gets an idea in his head and he's like that's the best solution! But it isn't always and I kinda think Barb's influence has mellowed that out over the years. So yeah, Aries for this guy. Though I would have accepted Leo, too, I just don't think Diavolo is as self-obsessed as a Leo usually is.

BARBATOS: AUGUST 22 - LEO

You know, in true CC fashion, I really spent a lot of time considering what would make the most sense for Barbatos. My initial reaction to him being a Leo was no fucking way. Leos like attention too much and we all know Barb is a lurker. However, he's also on the cusp with Virgo. And I kinda think that Virgo's practicality mixed with Leo's charisma could equal out to one Barbatos. Virgos are known for being proficient and efficient and always getting the job done right. They're also known for wanting to be of service to others. Leos, on the other hand, are magnetic and generous. However, they're also really flashy and tend to be hung up on what others think of them and that's not Barb at all.

So while I think the Virgo/Leo cusp could work, they'd need to put him on the other side of it. More Virgo less Leo. Like maybe August 25. That being said, I also initially gave Barb the sign of Capricorn. If I wasn't going with a cusp situation, this is what I'd choose. It's the restraint and meticulousness. Capricorns can be taskmasters, especially when it comes to themselves. In a human this leads to burnout. Since Barbatos is a demon he seems to be able to work hard all day every day and still be okay, but he's not exactly good at resting. A Capricorn is also someone other people come to for advice because they're known for being good at everything they do.

SIMEON: FEBRUARY 10 - AQUARIUS

Aquarius is a weird sign. Like no offense to Aquarians but the symbol here is literally called the Water Bearer and yet it's an air sign? What does it mean? It means that this sign is full of super unique individuals. And yeah okay Simeon is pretty unique. I'm not like there's absolutely no way. But I do think there's a better sign for him.

Should've been a Cancer. Yes, like Lucifer. Think about it: emotional, caring, family oriented, but where Lucifer has the armored crab shell, Simeon has learned to allow some of his soft squishy to show. Both can be very mothering, they just show it in different ways. Trust me on this. HOWEVER. I actually think Simeon should have been a cuspie. Like me, but on the other side. So on the cusp of Cancer and Gemini. Mostly mothering and emotional Cancer, but with the creativity and airiness of Gemini. You know what Geminis are good at? Writing. So I think Simeon has traits from both Cancer and Gemini and would be best on the cusp. (Give him June 21.)

SOLOMON: DECEMBER 9 - SAGITTARIUS

They got this one right. Solomon is absolutely a Sagittarius. The symbol of this sign is the Archer - a centaur with an extended bow. It represents the duality of a Sagittarian's personality. An old soul with childlike wonder. Able to get excited about new things, but also full of experience and wisdom. If that's not Solomon, I don't know what is. Someone who likes to be free, enjoys exploring the unknown, is dedicated to learning but also to teaching - yeah, this one is accurate.

LUKE: JULY 15 - CANCER

Due to the fact that Luke is supposed to be a child, it's important to consider how his sign manifests in someone younger. It can be different from how an adult would be described, but the general idea is usually still the same. I kinda think Luke could in fact be a Cancer. He cares a lot about his friends and family, he's dedicated to them in a way that causes him to defend them at any perceived insult. He can be emotional, but that's also kinda just… he's a kid, you know?

And I think Luke is a Libra. He cares about everybody as mentioned, but he also likes when people get along. If we looked at who he is when he's not worrying about a demon's questionable influence, such as how he is with MC, he's thoughtful and kind, friendly. See how he is with Barbatos and Simeon. He likes learning from them and spending time with them and I think that's the sort of social butterfly Libra quality. I see Luke growing up into someone who has a lot of friends, but also likes to keep things balanced as evidenced by the Libra scales.

MEPHISTOPHELES: NOVEMBER 11 - SCORPIO

It's kinda funny that Mephisto and Diavolo have the same zodiac sign. But it also doesn't mean anything, I just find it humorous. However, Mephisto could actually be a Scorpio, more so than Diavolo, in my opinion. We have seen mostly the negative traits of a Scorpio displayed in Mephisto - jealously, the tendency to hold a grudge, possessive and resentful. But a Scorpio can also be passionate and fearless and perceptive. Mephisto has the grudge thing going on with Lucifer. And he's a little closed off to MC at first. But his perception allows him to consider how MC feels and thus makes it easier for him to understand them. Not to mention how dedicated he becomes once he is friends with someone. While I think there are probably other signs that would work for him too, I don't have a problem with him being a Scorpio.

RAPHAEL: SEPTEMBER 29 - LIBRA

What. There is no way. NO. WAY. I refuse to accept Raphael as a Libra, I'm sorry. It's just not possible.

So what is he, then? A Taurus. The Bull. Quiet, stubborn, no nonsense. Patient, well grounded, likes to feel secure, determined. While a human Taurean would be interested in establishing their career, Raphael had a different goal due to being an angel. But I think we can equate the climb to the top, becoming the youngest angel ever to be a seraph, as obtaining financial stability. It's stability, but in a different way. Secured by the rank rather than the monetary value. Only investing time in what they believe is worth the effort, but once decided they become loyal to a fault. Good at standing up for their principles, but less likely to mess with things that threaten their stability. There might be others he could be, but this one feels right to me.

THIRTEEN: JANUARY 13 - CAPRICORN

Seeing as how I made Satan and Barbatos Capricorns, I don't really feel like Thirteen fits this sign all that well. She's not restrained at all and I don't think she's overly ambitious, either. Not a taskmaster for herself or anyone else.

Thirteen is an Aquarius. A rebel, someone who sets trends, someone who doesn't care about rules. Thirteen is a reaper who wears a school uniform that she completely modified because she likes it and she never even had any intention of attending said school. You gonna try to tell me that person isn't a rebel? Unique, quirky, and independent. That is so totally Thirteen. They also tend to fight for the collective good and while I haven't exactly seen Thirteen joining protests or anything, I don't know that I would discount this quality entirely. She's just definitely leaning more toward the quirky unique part as well as innovation (thinking up different traps for instance).

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[eladandan]

Ni-ki as your Boyfriend

pairing Ni-ki x reader! genre fluff warnings not proofread word count 0.6k

A relationship with Riki feels like dating your best friend. He is so playful around you that unconsciously, he will bring out your inner child. He will make you show the best side of yourself.

He will force you to do TikTok dances with him, and when he comes across a new trend, he will persuade you to do it with him, and after a lot of kisses and praying, you will accept. As the perfectionist dancer Riki is, he will point out that you are doing a step wrong. The good thing is that he will patiently help you master the moves flawlessly. The problem comes when you start recording, and somehow something will go wrong, and I am not talking about the dancing part, but I am talking about falling and injuring a leg or the phone falling and the screen breaking into million pieces.

He playfully pokes your cheeks at unexpected moments throughout the day. He understands that you might find it slightly bothersome, but deep down, he knows you secretly enjoy it. However, if he ever notices someone else, other than him, poking your cheeks, he becomes protective and possessive.

Aggression is his love language (on the good side dw). He will jump and attack you with his love without a second thought, especially if he needs your attention, which is ALWAYS.

Your closet is full of his hoodies and long T-Shirts he has been giving you throughout your relationship. He thinks that is a way to keep a piece of himself within you. The same thing happens the other way around. He steals all of your stuff, sometimes just for the simple pleasure of annoying you. So you know that whenever he comes to your home, he does not leave empty-handed.

He will talk all day about you to his sisters and his mom. You are part of the fam now.

He will randomly spam you with texts and phone calls because he is bored.

He will randomly give you so many kisses and hugs that you almost puke, but it is okay because it is him :)

Daily pecks and hugs are a NECESSITY.

HIS favorite time of the day is when you guys chill and get comfy to watch funny videos on Youtube

He will also send you the most random TikToks throughout the day.

“Y/N!!!!!!!! LOOK AT THIS!!!!"

"PLEASE ANSWER!!!! IF YOU DON'T ANSWER, YOU ARE AN UGLY SNAKE WITH TWO ARMS!!!!"

He has an album on his phone of random and funny pictures of you doing random things. He will 100% use these pictures against you.

He is your biggest hater and biggest defender at the same time ¿?

Your bed is undeniably his most cherished spot on Earth. If he had his way, he would happily remain there all day, only leaving when you insist on going to practice. Whenever he visits you, he spends the whole afternoon in your bed watching series or playing video games with you. He will often say that he loves your bed because of the soft mattress, but in reality, it is because the bed sheets smell just like you, and that brings him that sense of home and comfort that no other place can offer.

He probably has you saved in his phone as “MY ugly little rat” + a funny picture of you

He tends to develop an intense obsession with a particular video game for about a week or so. He insists you download and play the game with him until he falls asleep. He often wins against you, and when he does, he starts jumping and shouting around the place, for later to be chilling on the sofa, saying how he does not overreact to winning because he is a cool guy. Although you mainly end up losing, it's not necessarily because you lack skill, but rather because you willingly let him win. In your eyes, nothing is more beautiful than seeing Riki with a bright smile on his face.

Author's note: This was a request of @czlestiner so hopefully you enjoy it 💗. Take care my loves and do not forget to eat your meals and stay hydrated! Feel free to dm me for any request and comment, like, or repost if you enjoyed it!

-Love, Ela

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 voicemails with han on your wedding day

✰ pairings: bsf!han x fem!reader

✰ genre: angst, fluff if you squint and romance

✰ word count: 1.3k+ words

HAN | chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | felix | seungmin | jeongin

one 𖨂

first off, i’m sorry i made you cry like that. i’m sorry that i intentionally hurt you even though i didn’t mean to. i guess it’s time to spill the beans, huh? it’s been what– like 6 years now? 6 years of constantly pining over you. 6 years of falling in love with every bit of you. and 6 years of watching you fall for several people and get your heart broken. i’ve seen it all. lived it all as well, right by your side just like always. it wasn’t easy of course, watching the love of your life kiss someone else, hug someone else or cry over stupid exes who didn’t deserve you. but i did my best to hold it in. but now . . . i don’t think i can. i love you so much, more than you’ve ever now and more than you ever will. your fiancé is lucky. he truly is. for being able to marry a girl like you in less than a few hours. and you must be wondering why i’m sending you these voicemails 3 hours before your wedding. well it’s because you don’t have your phone with you right now as you’re very much busy, which is a golden opportunity for me.

two 𖨂

i hate you. so so much. i hate you so much for making me feel this way. i hate you so much for running through my mind the entire day. i hate you so much for making me feel all excited and giddy whenever you smile at me, but your eyes. . . they have love. not the romantic one, the platonic one. and that’s what hurts me the most. i even thought of telling this to you earlier but i couldn’t. not when our friendship of 8 years was at stake. never. nothing is more precious than that. but sometimes i do wonder whether your heart used to beat fast when i stood close to you. or whether your cheeks used to feel warm when i touched you. did it ever happen to you? i guess not. how could you love a guy like me? you, who are literally the perfectionist and me who learnt from you. doesn’t match right? i wished it did. i truly wished it did.

three 𖨂

i never lost hope, you know? instead i clung onto it until the very end, which is today. i hoped for you to fall in love with me little by little. and even though you couldn’t reciprocate my love for you, i wish we tried. but i fall in love with you a little bit more day by day. and now my heart is swelling with immense sadness that it even hurts to laugh without letting out tears of pain. it hurts to see you smile knowing i’m not the main reason anymore. i’ve become a side one. and it hurts to see you so excited for your wedding. and i hate myself for that. i hate that i can’t even pretend to be happy for my best friend who finally found true love. best friend. that’s all i mean to you right? nothing more, nothing less. but i don’t blame you. i could never. so i hope he doesn’t hurt you ever. because i might not be sufficient for you whether it be now or 10 years later. just know that.

four 𖨂

as i stand wearing my tuxedo, i wonder how it would look to have your arm linked with mine. to have your eyes shining with joy, for me. but that can never happen, can it? i see the way you look at him. the way you talk about him. and when you’re angry at him, it hurts me even then. oh, how i wish i could be him. standing by your weeping side and wiping your tears. or perhaps, holding you in my arms under the moonlight. it sounds heavenly doesn’t it? at least it does for me. which is the exact reason why it isn’t real. and i can’t imagine what would happen after you hear these. just don’t hate me please? i beg you. it took me a lot of courage to say this. and i would die if i ever knew that you hate me. your man, he’s perfect in every way. i tried to find any flaw but there isn’t one. he’s madly in love with you too but not longer than me, try to beat that. he gifts you all his love and never his anger. he treats you like a delicate vase, if handled improperly, you might break. he engulfs you in his love and you can practically drown in his eyes with the amount of admiration it contains for you. all for you, my angel.

five 𖨂

i’m back, hiding in the bathroom as i speak. your wedding just ended– and i don’t think i could see you two kissing. i’m so sorry angel. so so sorry. i didn’t want to be that bad friend who falls in love and starts acting as a homewrecker. never. i’m so sorry for falling in love with you. if only i didn’t look at you while you were doing my makeup, this wouldn’t have happened. i danced with you although, and when you asked why i was getting emotional i could only smile with tears. this was the last time i held you like i loved you. the last time i twirled you, and the last time i caught you. because now, i’m throwing away that hope from my life. and i’m letting you go now, my love. i promise. i won’t ever try to love you again the way i did and i’ll punish myself if i ever do that once more.

six 𖨂

at times i even thought i don't want to love you anymore. you tore my heart out in the summer and tossed it aside with a carefree laugh and that crooked smile, before sauntering off to meet your new partner before classes began in the autumn. i don't want to flinch every time i hear your name escape someone’s mouth. i don't want to keep getting hurt every time a memory flashes in my mind like a blaring siren, a loop of playful moments and the moments where i fell deeper. i want to not care about you anymore. i want to be perfect strangers, but i couldn’t just not care when you knocked on my door at 4 am, drunk and a sobbing mess, i just took you in my arms. i held you for hours till the moon disappeared, replacing itself with brightness. not for me. not when you couldn’t even remember how i cared for you or how we went back to being best friends. maybe it was selfish of me to for the night knowing you saw my worth only in your drunk state. but it was enough for me. you were enough for me. and my heart shattered every time knowing i wasn’t.

seven 𖨂

i’m finally letting you free, from the love i had buried deep in my heart. i wish you a happy married life, my angel. and i’m sorry but i will be leaving tonight. i’m going away for a while. for good. and even though i have many excuses i won’t tell them to you. i need time. away from you. away from those feelings that keep bubbling out just by hearing your laughter. i know i’m late. very late in fact. but could you try and not hate me for this? please? it’ll be my last wish before i go. and now, suddenly, everything seems like a goodbye. the last dance, the last hug, the last smile, the last kiss on my cheek and the last moment where i add a full stop to this unrequited love of mine. congratulations angel. though i wished i could call you mine.

[arvandus]

The Divine

Barbatos (Obey Me!) x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ content! Minors DNI and DO NOT follow my blog! All minor and ageless blogs will be blocked! Fem!Reader (dress, heels, fem-coded terms of endearment, etc.), AFAB!Reader, short-coded reader (but Barb's a demon so we can say "magic!" and just suspend disbelief; aka let's pretend they can adjust their own height if they want); friends to lovers, romance, hurt/comfort, first date, lots and lots of talking, first kiss and first (and second) time together (aww yissss), questionable uses for a tail, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), clit stim, shared bath, reader goes pee (is this an issue for people...? practice good sex hygiene, peeps!), reader gets carried (he got that demon strength, babyyy), rough(ish) sex (did I mention demon strength??). UHHH I think that's it. This is long as hell, almost 15k GOOD LUCK BYE.

Author's Note: This is my submission for The Coffee Corner's "Slice of Life" Collab Event! There are so many amazing writers, please go check it out and see if there's anything that piques your interest!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The opera house was filling up quickly, hundreds of demons taking their seats.  Barbatos was calm and efficient in finding yours amongst the bustling of busy bodies.  They were excellent seats, to be expected from Lord Diavolo’s butler who prided himself on his perfection.  Not too close, not too far, and located central enough without having to climb over multiple sets of legs if you needed to step away at all during the performance.

Barbatos helped you to your seat first, his hand gently placed on your lower back, before sitting down next to you. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

You nodded with a smile.  “Very much so, thank you.”

You normally weren’t so formal with him.  After all, you’d known each other for more than a year during your time here in the Devildom and been on many outings together as acquaintances and later as friends.  But there had always been a wall in place, a boundary that was never crossed nor spoken of. 

Barbatos was kind, polite, and witty; he was caring and doting, a perfectionist, and by far one of the most mature demons you’d had the pleasure of getting to know.  However, despite all of that, Barbatos was also a private individual, even when he freely provided facts about himself and his interests, and was forthcoming with his motivations.  No matter how much he exposed, there always seemed to be far more lurking beneath the surface that was left unsaid.  Add in the fact that he took his job as Lord Diavolo’s private butler so seriously, and it sometimes made it difficult to distinguish his acts of kindness as obligation versus personal desire.  No matter how kind or sweet his words were, no matter how close you felt with him at any given moment, you were always, always aware that he kept himself at a distance.  It made your own affections for him feel one-sided, a heavy gift you held in shaky hands with nowhere to put it.

You’d always had the keen sense that he knew, of course; you weren’t exactly good at hiding it.  But he’d never acknowledged it, at least not out-right; even though you could have sworn there were times where you felt his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, or moments where he held your gaze for longer than necessary.  But each time, you’d written it off as wishful thinking, your heart desperately looking for patterns within the random coincidences of life.

But now, things were different.  They had been, ever since that moment he’d plucked that leaf out of your hair with soft affection in his eyes, followed by a quick stolen glance at your parted, stunned lips.  It was all the evidence you needed, and all the evidence that you’d likely get, to know that Barbatos was harboring a flame of his own.  After all, you’d only seen it because he’d let you see it.  You had acted on it immediately, the invitation to dinner tumbling from your lips in place of a confession.  He had accepted with a smile, and you could still feel the elation weaved into your chest like a keepsake as you revisited the memory.

You were yanked from the heart-pounding past to the nerve-wracking present when Barbatos’s fingers intertwined with yours.  Your pulse quickened at the contact. The touch of his skin against yours was so intimate and new, that it felt foreign and strangely forbidden.

“I’m glad you were able to join me,” he said.  “I apologize that the invitation was so last minute. There were... complications.”

You gave a small, teasing laugh, more to trick your own nerves than anything else.  “You act as if we haven’t gone out together before. And I don’t mind last minute; spontaneity keeps things fun.”

Your words felt like lies, a feigned nonchalance in the face of what was so obviously a shift in your relationship with each other, a testing of deeper waters.

“True,” he said.  “But this time is different, isn’t it?”

It was so like him to say outright what was already in your mind. Yet he always managed to do it with such simplicity that it stripped away the anxiety while still leaving the importance.  You swallowed the dryness in your throat and gave a small nod.

He was correct, of course... this - whatever it was – was still very much new for the both of you.

“Besides,” he continued, his lips curving playfully, “it has been some time since we’ve had the pleasure of each other’s company.”

“Four weeks,” you blurted out. Then you clamped your lips shut in embarrassment.

He gave a soft laugh.  “Three weeks and six days, to be exact.”

You gave him a surprised glance.  “But who’s counting?” you teased.

Barbatos smiled. “I often find myself counting the time when we are apart.”

Your body grew hot at his confession, his words vibrating against your skin as they buried themselves into you, becoming a part of you.  No doubt you will be reflecting on that single line for days to come.

Barbatos watched the change in your expression with intrigue.

“However, it is hardly our fault, is it not?” he continued.  “The brothers have been keeping you plenty busy I hear, and the young master requires constant supervision to keep him from chasing his flights of fancy.”

It always amused you when Barbatos referred to the massive, muscular Prince as ‘young;’ it reminded you time and time again how ancient Barbatos really was.  He sounded like a tired uncle reigning in a toddler, and looked the part too, his eyes tired as he watched other demons pass by to take their seats.

“Speaking of Lord Diavolo,” you chimed, “wasn’t he the one who was supposed to join you for this?”

Barbatos returned his eyes to you, only to be met by a narrowed, mischievous gaze and grinning lips.  Barbatos’s smile reappeared deeper than before.

“Something tells me that he intentionally had me set this up and then abandoned it at the last minute in order to allow us this opportunity,” he confessed.

“How very generous of him,” you whispered as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.

Barbatos drew his thumb over the soft pad of your hand where your thumb and finger joined.  The sensitive nerves tingled, sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Yes,” he agreed as his emerald eyes stared into yours. “Very generous.”

You leaned towards him slightly, your own thumb drawing along his hand in return, as your voice dropped to a whisper.  “It would be in ill taste if we did not maximize this opportunity that he’s provided.”

“Ill taste indeed,” he muttered as he glanced down at your lips.  His gaze lingered there for one heartbeat, two.  Just long enough to get you leaning slightly closer in hopeful anticipation.  Then he broke his gaze and stared ahead. “Lets us fully enjoy this performance then,” he stated.

You stared at him, mildly stunned by his reservedness, until you noticed the slightest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

He was toying with you.  On purpose.

Your lips turned downward into a pout and you gave a humph as you leaned back in your chair.  Beneath the hum of the audience settling in, you heard the faintest hint of a quiet chuckle in his chest.

You still had yet to kiss him.  The first date was very nice and sweet, a simple dinner at a restaurant you knew you both enjoyed.  You had wanted to keep the first date familiar and unassuming, to allow for the possibility that you’d been wrong, that he’d taken your invitation as a dinner between friends rather than love interests.  It wasn’t long before that worry was eliminated by the touch of his hand over yours at the table, followed by a long swipe of his thumb over your knuckles.

But of course, the private moment was short-lived, because wherever you were, a brother wasn’t far behind.  It was Asmo this time who’d spotted you, miffed at the realization that you were out with someone other than him, and looking dolled up to boot.  Which then, of course, led to him inviting himself to your very obvious one-on-one with Barbatos.  The demon had given you a look to silently inquire if such behavior was acceptable, and you were too kindhearted to give Asmo the boot, so you surrendered, folding like a deck of cards.

The regret and guilt still sat heavy on your mind.  You should have been firmer, set some boundaries. But boundary setting was always difficult when the brothers were involved.

Barbatos would have been able to do it; the look that he’d given you had made that clear enough.  He was a kind demon, yet firm if he needed to be.  And you had a keen sense that you never wanted to get on his bad side.  But he’d taken the intrusion gracefully, and parted ways later that evening without a hint of disappointment or disapproval.

Even so, you’d assumed you’d botched any future opportunities at a second date with him.  Sure, he may not have expressed disappointment in the moment, but you knew he was a master at disguising his true feelings when he wanted to.  So, it had taken you by surprise when he had texted you that he’d enjoyed himself and wanted to try again, albeit something that could be either more structured, or more private to prevent future interruptions.

It had taken far longer than expected to follow through, to the point that you’d almost lost hope.  But finally, here you sat with the apple of your eye looking delicious and refined in his black tuxedo, while you donned a simple strapped gown of your own.  The lights above dimmed, indicating the performance would be starting soon, as the orchestra completed the final checks on their instruments, ensuring everything was in tune.

Barbatos’s hand continued to hold yours, the action feeling almost possessive in nature, a warning to any who might see the two of you together.  A part of you wondered if any of the brothers had managed to sneak their way in and were watching from a distance, and if so, did Barbatos know.  There was no way to know for certain.  Either way, if they were out there somewhere, they couldn’t reach you now, not without causing a scene.

Now your seats made more sense. You had wondered why you weren’t located in one of the more private balcony boxes above; it certainly seemed like a place Barbatos would have preferred.  And had he come with Diavolo like originally intended, he very well might have.  You certainly couldn’t have the Lord of the Devildom sitting amongst the masses.

Which means Barbatos likely figured out a way to change the seating arrangement as soon as he learned of Diavolo’s little scheme.  This was clearly by design, a way to ensure your second date would not be interrupted like the first.  You let out a relaxed breath and reclined against the back of your seat as you prepared yourself to become immersed in the opera.

The lights overhead went black, leaving only the stage washed in a white glow.

“Y/N...” Barbatos started, his eyes on you.  “There’s something you should know about this performance...”

“Hm?” you replied distractedly with barely a glance.

But then the orchestral music began, and you shushed him with a pat on his arm.  Barbatos’s words died on his tongue, as his hand tightened around yours. 

The music started strong and then fell like cascading water into a flurry of notes.  You watched as the music played, as the singers entered the scene.

You had expected English, or one of the romance languages that you often associated with opera, or even an older, biblical language such as Hebrew. But instead, the language was like nothing you’d ever heard, notes sung in such a way that it felt entirely inhuman and beyond the realm of possibility.  You stared, bewildered, unable to understand any of it, even as the earth-shattering beauty of it crashed over you. There were no screens with subtitles framing the stage, no form of translation at all.  There was nothing; just your eyes and the music to try to decipher the story that was unfolding.  It was clear it had to do with angels and demons, and that there was a forbidden love story between them, which, you could deduce would lead to conflict.  But the details were lost as soon as they had opened their mouths.

Barbatos watched you in silent observation as your emotions transformed and danced across your face from confusion, to wonder, to awe, to fear, and back again.

His hand squeezed yours, a tether keeping you from losing yourself in the panic of your mortal brain trying to make sense of something beyond its understanding.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, his tone laced with concern. Your wide eyes shot over to him; it took a moment for recognition to register in your gaze.

“Y-Yeah.  But I don’t understand them at all. What language is this??”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he replied. He watched and waited for your brain to process.

“...wait.  What?”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he repeated.  “The language of God, spoken by angels and demons. It’s no surprise you don’t understand it, you’re not meant to unless it’s directly intended for you.”

You didn’t know how to put into words that it felt like you simultaneously understood yet didn’t. The language didn’t sound like words, and yet it left imprints upon you, feelings and emotions stamped upon your soul that you could only vaguely understand.

Barbatos continued as you stared back at the stage in shock.  “Many of the operas composed here are done so in the Divine Language as it withholds the purest meaning and form, and the notes cannot be duplicated in mortal speech.  Had I known you were joining me tonight instead of the young master, I might have selected a more appropriate performance.”

He watched you as you grimaced against a particularly moving crescendo.

“Why does it feel like it’s in my head?” you whispered.

“Because it is,” he whispered back.  “You are fortunate that you have Angelic ancestry in you.”

You gave him a confused look.  “Why?”

“Because if you didn’t, you’d be bleeding out your ears.”

“What??” your voice raised in panic, and multiple demons seated near you shushed you.  You lowered your voice again, but the panic was still there.  “Barbatos!”

Barbatos gave a quiet chuckle as he pulled something small from his pocket.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.  Just put these in your ears. It will lessen the impact.”

You took the small black box from his hand and opened it to see a set of ear plugs.  You wasted no time in putting them in.  Immediately, the panic and chaos you felt eased, the thrumming reduced to a hum.

“Why didn’t you give me these earlier?  A warning would have been nice,” you quietly seethed.

Barbatos almost rebutted that he’d tried when the lights went down, but decided against it when he saw you fold your hands protectively in your lap.  You were angry.  He gently pried your hands apart gently with his and twined his fingers with yours in a soft hold. You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t look at him either.

“I promise you weren’t in any danger,” he whispered close to your ear.  “I would not have brought you here if it wasn’t safe.”

Your body remained stiff, but you finally looked at him.  “It felt intentional,” you replied.  “Like it’s something Diavolo would have you do to test me.  Tell me, Barbatos... are you here for work or pleasure?”

Surprise flashed across his face, followed by the return of his gentle smile.  He leaned even closer to your ear until his lips ghosted over your pinna. “Pleasure,” he whispered, his voice low.  His hand squeezed yours reassuringly.  “Definitely pleasure. I assure you there were no ulterior motives.”

The way his voice alone nearly unraveled you... your thighs tightened against their impact and you swallowed as you stared ahead at the stage, struggling to follow the story that you were missing.

But you could be horny and angry at the same time.  You set your jaw stubbornly.

“You swear?” you asked as you kept your eyes on the stage.

He took your chin in his hand and turned your face to look at him, his expression serious. 

“I swear,” he replied.

Then he placed as soft brush of lips to your forehead. It stole your breath as a shiver passed through every nerve.

Your anger finally dimmed, soothed by the genuineness of his words and the reassurance of his affection. Your fingers finally closed around his in reciprocity, and Barbatos returned his green eyes to the stage.

A long moment passed as you both watched the performance.  The impact of the Divine Language continued to wash over you, dragging vague meaningful pictures to your mind as your emotions danced like puppets.  The earplugs helped, keeping you from feeling like your head was splitting open.  But you still felt lost in it, carried away on a foreign tide.

Barbatos noticed.  He leaned close and whispered.  “Would you like me to translate for you?”

His breath tickled your ear and your chest tightened as your heart tried to grow wings and escape.  You angled your head to him slightly; your eyes breaking from the stage briefly. 

“Please,” you whispered.

And so, he quietly summarized the plot and dialogue into your ear as his eyes watched.  The male and female lead sang to each other, their voices rich with emotion, their body language communicating their love.

“They are of two different worlds,” he explained.  “Yet they love each other unequivocally.”

You smiled softly. “Romantic...”

“Very,” he agreed.  “She is expressing worry that heaven will cast her out for falling for him.  And he is promising to never leave her.”

The music rose in crescendo.  It filled you, and your chest tightened like a balloon about to burst. You took deep breaths to allow the sensations to pass through you.

You had anticipated appreciating the music, being impressed by the vocal gymnastics.  But this was proving to be so much more, a visceral experience that would leave you reeling by the time it was over.

As you watched, Barbatos continued to translate.  The angel was cast out as predicted and was cursed to walk the earth and live her life as a human.  This allowed them to continue their romance without judgment and they rejoiced.  But shortly after, things took a turn for the worst, as they often did in operas.

“She’s sick...” you commented quietly as you watched the performance.

Barbatos glanced at you briefly from the corner of his eye.  “She’s mortal.”

Something inside your chest twisted, a stirring of something heavy that you’d been struggling to ignore ever since you committed to staying in the Devildom.  You tried to push it back down, to watch the story continue.

But maybe it was the way that it hit too close to home; or maybe it was the way the Divine Language seemed to invade every crevice of you like a living thing, forcing your body to experience something beyond what it was built for.  Either way, it brought forth every worry, every fear that plagued you late at night when you were alone in your bed. It was the way the loneliness that you struggled to ignore within yourself began to gain weight, a black hole pulling you into its relentless gravity.  It was the type of loneliness that came with the sense of otherness, of being separate; the awareness of being where one did not truly belong no matter how badly you wanted to.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you stared at Barbatos’s hand holding your own.  Suddenly, this – all of this – felt foolish.  So foolish.  What were you doing, going on a date with a demon?  Allowing yourself to open your heart for someone who would outlive you ten times over? The time would be gone in a blink, your mortal life small and insignificant.

Your tear-rimmed eyes looked back to the stage.  You watched as the female lead died, succumbing to her illness, and her partner mourned her.

Would Barbatos mourn you in such a way? Would he watch you grow old and feeble while he stayed young and flawless?  Did demons and angels even love the same way that humans did? How much could one human life really matter anyway, to someone who was essentially immortal? You were a blip in his life, a small blink of time that would come and go, a nice little hobby to pass the time.  Whereas for you, he would be your entire world, your entire life if things panned out the way your foolish heart hoped they would.

Because there was no one else you wanted.  No one else that even came close.

The thoughts shook you to your core until it felt as if you were being split in two, a great chasm running right down the center of you between what your heart longed for and what your head knew to be true. It made you begin the grieving process of what you would inevitably lose before you’d ever had a chance to even have it.  The pain was a wild beast in your chest, threatening to break free, to rip open your rib cage and let your heart bleed out in front of everyone.  You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream.

You wanted to leave.

You unlatched your hand from Barbatos’s, avoiding his eyes as you grabbed your purse from the floor.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “Excuse me...”

You made your way past the few seated individuals that blocked you from the aisle. As soon as you’d freed yourself, you walked quickly towards the exit, a race against time between the sobs in your throat that were rising to the back of your tongue and your proximity to the door.

You crossed the threshold with your hand over your mouth.  Already, you felt the wet tears sliding down your cheeks, your makeup effectively ruined.

And so was your date, you were certain.  The way you’d bolted from Barbatos without a second thought, without explanation... If you hadn’t offended him before on your first date, then you certainly did now.

You removed the earplugs from your ears and stuffed them into your purse.

You could still hear the music, could still hear the anguish in the male demon’s notes as he mourned the loss of his love.  Even from here, the Divine Language found you, gripped you, choked you.  You practically ran out of the opera house into the cold, wet evening of the devildom, and with it came silence – blessed, sweet silence.  A soft rain was falling, coating everything until it shined wet.

You quietly walked out from the covered entryway, past the great pillars that held up the grand architecture.  You turned your face up to the sky with closed eyes and let the water mist your skin.  Then you sat down on the steps and put your head in your arms and cried.

It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar soft steps of Barbatos’s polished black shoes on the wet stone.  A moment later, the rain above you stopped and the sound of pitter-pattering on fabric met your ears.  Still, you didn’t look up, your shame too heavy to lift your head.

You felt the presence of him, felt him as he circled around to your front.  You peeked through your arms just in time to see him kneel in front of you on the steps.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed through sniffles.

“What happened?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t know, I just...”

More tears welled up as your words caught in your throat.  You wiped at your eyes in an attempt to make them stop, but more took their place.  Barbatos took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to you.  You took it and held it in your hands, your fingers rubbing across the soft silk.

“Did you not like the performance?” he asked, his tone laced with worry.  “Perhaps the earplugs were not enough.”

You couldn’t help but give a sad, soft laugh. “No, I did.  I did like it. It’s just...”

Again, your words faltered.  Why was it so difficult to say? It was as if the emotions you felt were too large, unable to fit into the neat little boxes that human language provided.  If only you could speak the language of angels and demons...

“Barbatos...” you started softly, “why did you ask me out?”

His veridian eyes widened slightly in surprise.  “You mean to the opera?”

“No, I mean ask me out.  On a date.”

His gaze softened, although the confusion in them remained.  “Because I care for you. I had thought that years of mutual pining and silent eye contact every time we were in the same room together made that obvious.”

You half chuckled.  It wasn’t as obvious as he thought it was...

He tilted his head slightly, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the sadness that flitted across his face.

“Do you not feel the same?” he asked.  “Perhaps I have misunderstood-“

“No! No, that’s not it,” you protested, your hands reaching out to grasp his.

Not that.  Anything but that...

You kept his free hand in yours, your fingers following his knuckles from one finger to the next. 

“What I mean is, why me?”

Barbatos’s fingers wrapped around your own.  “Why not you?”

“Because. I’m mortal.” Your voice cracked, and Barbatos straightened slightly.

“Ah. I see.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m making a mistake.  Like I’m not supposed to feel this way.”

“Feel what way?”

More tears fell from your lashes as a sob escaped your throat.  “Happy.”

You released your hold on him and buried your face in your hands.

Barbatos touched your arm, his fingers wrapping around it gently.  You felt the rain suddenly return followed immediately by the sound of the umbrella touching the stone steps. You looked at it slightly confused, just in time for Barbatos’s other hand to take your chin and tilt your face up until you were looking at him.

“And why shouldn’t you be happy?” he asked.

You stared at him, watching as his hair flattened in the rain, running rivulets down his pale skin.

“Because my time here will be so brief compared to you, to everyone.  I’ll keep changing and grow old, and you’ll all stay the same.”

Barbatos stared at you for a long moment, his expression soft yet neutral.  He cocked his head slightly and released your arm to wipe your wet hair from your face before trailing his fingers along your cheek to your jaw line.

“What makes you think your longevity will be brief?”

You furrowed your brow.  “Because I’m human...?”

“So is Solomon...”

He had a point there. But...

“But Solomon is a powerful sorcerer.”

“And you’re not?”

“Not like him... I’m just barely beginning to grasp the things he’s teaching me.”

“Do not mistake knowledge for power,” Barbatos said.

“I thought knowledge was power,” you teased, the first hint of a smile on your lips.

Barbatos smirked at your cheekiness. “I stand corrected.  However, the point I’m trying to make is this: your power is your own and always will be. And trust me when I say that your power is vast.  Already you’ve been able to wield it in ways that Solomon could only dream.  All that you require now is the knowledge, and that will come with time.”

“But my time is limited.”

“So it is for all of us, one way or another,” Barbatos replied.  “Do not let a little thing called Time stop you.  You will have plenty enough of it to figure out how to bend its effects to your will just as Solomon has.”

“Is that what your visions of the future show you?” you teased.

Barbatos’s soft smile tightened slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t look into the future unless Lord Diavolo instructs me to.  But even if I could, I wouldn’t look at yours.”

Your brows furrowed.  “Why not?”

Barbatos stared down at the ground, his lashes hiding his eyes. “Because no good could come of it.  Despite my age, I am not immune to the impact of loss. And witnessing the loss of you in the future would only taint what time I have with you in the present.”

A silence fell between you as you thought upon his words.  They brought a warmth into your chest at the realization of how much you meant to him.  And yet... it only made your concerns feel that much more valid.

You didn’t want to hurt him. Not in the present, and not in the future.  Even if it was due to circumstances beyond your control.

“What if... what if I can’t do what Solomon does? What if I can’t figure it all out? The lifespan of a human seems so short...”

Barbatos looked back up at you, a sad smile on his lips.

“If your time is to be so short, then perhaps it is best to enjoy the time that you do have, freely without the burden of guilt.  You deserve happiness, in whatever way you can find it. Don’t let your fears taint what your heart wants.”  His hand found yours, and he stared at it as his thumb brushed over your fingers. “And... if I may be a little bit selfish... let me have this time with you now, if you’ll have me. I will feel your absence regardless, and I’d rather be able to look upon the past with fondness instead of regret.”

“Barbatos...” you whispered.   Your hand came up and brushed his long locks back, tucking them behind his left ear.  “Of course I’ll have you.”

He smiled softly at you.  “Nothing pleases me more.”

A thought still bothered you though, a question itching at the back of your mind, springing up more worry.  It made your gaze distant, distracted.

“Barbatos... what happened at the end of the story?” you asked.

“Hm? You mean the opera?” he replied.  You nodded.  His smile grew.  “When the female lead dies, her soul is unable to ascend to heaven due to being cast out. So, there is only one place left for her to go.”

Your eyes widened.  “She went to hell.  She got to be with him in the end.”

Barbatos’s smile filled his face, his eyes crinkling and perfect white teeth showing.  He was so beautiful it made your chest ache.  “She did.”

Your gaze became distant again with thought.  “When I die.... where do you think I’ll go?”

“Hmmm,” Barbatos pondered, his fingers on his chin.  “Well, to be honest, it’s anyone’s guess.  Although as the keeper of the Seven Deadly Sins, it may tip the scales more in favor of here.  Relations between heaven and hell have been improving, but there are still rules that must be followed. And any who support demons usually end up coming here.”

“Wait, so I’m going to go to hell??” you said indignantly as mirth danced in your eyes.

Barbatos grinned.  “As if I’d ever let my girl go to such a place.  No, I would bring you here to the Devildom.”

Your body flushed hot at his words.  “Your girl...”

Barbatos took your chin in his fingers, his thumb brushing against your lower lip gently. “My girl,” he affirmed.

Then he leaned forward and kissed you, his lips cool and soft against yours in the cold of night. You leaned into it, your hands coming up instinctually to cup his chilled face as you reciprocated his affection.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, before returning for a second kiss, his lips firmer, warmer.  You opened your mouth to him, every part of you aching for more of him until he filled you, surrounded you, until your head couldn’t think anymore and all that mattered was him, you, this moment.  Barbatos’s grip on you tightened as his warm tongue found yours, tasting you, claiming you.

He pulled away just a fraction again, his eyes shining as the bony wings framing his head flickered and vanished.  His grip on you was strong, one hand holding you by the curve of your jawline, and the other gripping your waist.  You had the keen sense that in that moment, he was torn between behaving like the gentleman he felt you deserved, versus taking you right there on the cold, wet steps in the empty street.

The evidence of Barbatos’s desire for you shocked you.  He was always so reserved, so in control, that seeing him grapple with his lesser instincts because of you made your own instincts want to respond in kind, to lure him out of his carefully crafted persona.  You’d been so starved for his affection for so long, that now even the smallest crumbs of his desire felt like a feast.

But of course, his reason won out.  Slowly he stood, his hand holding yours as he helped you to your feet.

“Perhaps we should get you home,” he stated, even as his eyes remained locked on your lips.

Numb with need, your body buzzing, you nodded silently.

Barbatos picked up the umbrella and shook the water off it before placing it over the two of you.  Then he offered his arm and you hooked yours with his as he led you to the car.

The ride back was silent, although you continued to hold his hand in your lap for the entire duration.  The drive felt far too short for your liking. A sense of dread filled the pit in your stomach as the House of Lamentation came into view and it didn’t leave even as Barbatos released your hand with a kiss and exited the vehicle to open your door for you.  You took his offered hand and stepped out, your gaze locked on the many windows that stared back like countless eyes. You could feel them on your back as you turned around at the gate to face Barbatos to begin your goodnights.

Barbatos could sense your unease. 

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just... I don’t think I’m ready to go in yet. I’d like to spend more time with you.” Your eyes were downcast bashfully as you stared at the buttons of his white shirt, the black bow tie at his neck.

He gave a gentle laugh.  “I don’t want the night to end either.  It is far too early to be saying goodbye.  Where would you like to go?”

You glanced up at him as you felt heat roll across your body, the memory of your kiss still fresh in your mind.  “Some place quiet... and private.”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment as he stared down at you.  “I know just the place,” he finally said.

He led you back to the car, and with a final glance back at the mansion, you sat down in the passenger seat. He closed your door, and soon you were on the road again.  It wasn’t long before he pulled the car up through the lavish, scroll-decorated iron gates of Lord Diavolo’s castle.  Your eyes widened in slight surprise.

“Here?”

Barbatos glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You said you wanted private.  This is the only place I can guarantee for sure that no one else will find you.”

“I would have thought it’d be the first place they’d look,” you replied as you stared up at the great, towering spires.

“Oh, they most certainly will.  But as you know, the castle in vast, with many rooms and dangers.  And there is one room they will never be able to enter without explicit invitation.”

You gave him a questioning look.

“Mine,” he stated with a small smirk.

A giddy dizziness clouded your mind as he got out of the car and came around to assist you.

As you stepped out, he continued.  “Due to the dangerous nature of my room, there are many wards and spells that keep unwelcome guests from entering.  You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, and then I will take you home when you’re ready.”

You realized Barbatos was referring to the many doors that led to infinite pasts and futures.

“I’ve been to your room before; I don’t recall it being very... comfortable,” you confessed.

Barbatos laughed as he led you up the steps. “That’s because you only entered the part I wanted you to enter. My personal space has far better amenities than just stairs and doors.  Did you think I just hung like a bat from the ceiling while I slept?” he teased.

You chuckled.  “The thought had crossed my mind...”

Up the stairs and down the winding, complex halls he led you, taking sharp turns and walking around blank spaces of floor to avoid hidden dangers.  Finally, you were outside his door.  With his hand holding yours, he opened it to reveal a pristine bedroom with an ornate four post bed with a canopy.  A large fireplace sat to the right, already lit, an ornate rug and sofa sitting in front of it.  There was a sitting area near the tall glass doors that opened onto a balcony with a tea cart close by.  It was simple in its elegance, the room cast in a warm yellow-orangish glow from the fire.  Not a speck of dirt was present, and suddenly you felt very unclean, your dress and hair still wet from earlier.

“May I use your bathroom?” you asked.

“Of course, right through there.” Barbatos motioned to the double doors to the left as he made his way to his tea cart. “I will fix us something to drink.”

You stepped into his bathroom and shut the door. It was incredibly spacious.  Not as grand as Asmo’s of course, but it most certainly had every necessary amenity and then some.  You checked yourself in the mirror and nearly gasped at the state of your makeup and your hair. 

To think he kissed you while you looked like this... twice, in fact.

You did what you could to clean yourself up, removing the washed-out makeup and letting down your hair to run your fingers through the damp strands.  Once there was nothing more you could do, you stepped back out.

The delicious smell of tea was fragrant in the air, carried on the warmth of the fire.  Barbatos had set the tea out on the small round table of the sitting area and turned when you entered.  He was still fully dressed in his wet formal wear, and you realized with amusement that he’d gotten engrossed in ensuring the tea and setup were perfect.  The porcelain cups and saucers were delicate and beautiful, with floral designs and golden rims.  The spoons were made of silver, polished to shine in the firelight.

“Welcome back,” he replied with a smile.

You smiled in return.  “What’s all this?”

“What does it look like? I thought we could talk over a cup of tea, let our bones warm a little,” he replied as he made final touches to the setup, adjusting the napkins ever so slightly, turning the teapot just so.

“Barbatos...” you chided playfully. “Is this Barbatos the demon, or Barbatos the butler?”

He stared at you for a moment, stunned, and then gave an embarrassed laugh. “Haha, I suppose you’re right... old habits, as they say...” His laugh left his eyes and he stared at you.  “I just want you to feel comfortable.  I know we’ve known each other for some time; however, it is only our second date.”

“I am comfortable,” you said softly. “More comfortable than I’ve ever been since I first arrived here.”  You stepped closer towards him until you were less than a foot apart.  “I always feel safe with you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled in return, warm and soft as his eyes drank you in.  “You don’t know how much it pleases me to hear you say that.”

You rested your hand against his chest.  “Your coat is still wet,” you commented.

“Yes,” he replied as he began to undo the buttons.  He removed it and you watched as the muscles of his shoulders rolled beneath his white shirt.  He laid it carefully over the back of his chair.  “It will dry by the fire soon enough.”

He began to undo his bowtie, but your hands came up to stop him.

“Please… allow me,” you said softly, even as your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Barbatos swallowed slightly, but let his hands fall until they found their place on your hips, gentle and unassuming.

Slowly, carefully, you began to undo his tie for him as the air warmed between you with each shaky breath.  Once it was loose, you gently pulled on the black material, watching as it slid along his collar before falling off. 

Your eyes locked with his.

It was enough to make the last of his gentlemanly resolve vanish, and he kissed you, his lips capturing yours needily. The tie fell from your grip to land in a careless pile on the floor as your arms went up around his neck to pull him closer. His hands tightened around you in return, fingers spread wide as they traveled across your back.  The warmth of him, the firmness of his body beneath the soft fabrics of his clothes... it was better than every fantasy you’d ever had, dreams paling beneath the shadow of the very real demon in front of you.

Barbatos’s hands shifted from your body to your jaw, cupping your face in a delicate hold.  Once again you opened your mouth to him, eager to revisit that sinful moment on the steps of the opera house, as your fingers tangled into his hair at the base of his neck.  The strands were soft between your fingers, his tongue sweet with the hint of tea.  He must have tasted it before you emerged from the bathroom earlier, no doubt to ensure its perfection.

But now it sat abandoned as your fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, starting at the one high on his neck.  As soon as the smooth skin of his chest was exposed, you abandoned your task to run your palms up his chest and back to his neck as you clung tightly to him, your body slotting against his.

He chuckled against your lips as his hands returned to caressing your curves.  “What about the tea?” he teased.

You nibbled on his lip, pulling back with your teeth until it released with a pop, earning a growl from the usually reserved demon.  “No offense, but screw the tea.”

Barbatos’s eyes widened, his eyebrow raising in judgment.  “No offense she says, and yet she wounds me in the same breath.”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on his lips.  “Forgive me… but perhaps we can enjoy it after?”

“After?” Barbatos echoed, his eyebrow raising ever higher as the corner of his mouth curled up. His hands slid from the curve of your back to the plush of your ass and squeezed. “After what exactly? What expectations have you brought with you tonight?”

Your breath hitched at his bold touch, yet your eyes narrowed at his obvious teasing.  Two could play that game.

You widened your eyes innocently.  “Expectations? None.”  You looked at the tea setting. “Perhaps we should enjoy a cup now, before it gets cold…”

You began to disentangle from his hold and turn your body toward the seats, but Barbatos’s strong arm wrapped around your waist, blocking you.  When you turned to look up at him, he was staring down at you with darkened eyes, his smile gone.

“You know… your dress is wet too...” he hummed as he pulled you back against him. 

Checkmate.

Your arms returned around his neck.  “Is it now?”

Barbatos’s hands once again moved along the curve of your back. “Perhaps we should slip you into something more comfortable?”

As he spoke, his fingers gently traced the line of your spine until he reached the top of the zipper.  Slowly he pulled it down, the material relaxing around you, every soft bit of your skin freed from restraint.  His fingers traced back up along your now naked spine as his lips gently brushed yours, the tip of his tongue teasing your mouth open.  It pulled a wanton moan from your throat, a sound that would have made you falter in embarrassment in any other moment... except his touch was far too distracting to care anymore, his chest echoing your own in a low, satisfied hum.  The delicacy of his long, slender fingers skated across your shoulder blades to catch beneath the straps of your dress and slid it off your shoulders. You removed your arms from the falling straps, and Barbatos’s hands helped the dress the rest of the way over your hips until it fell to a puddle around your feet.

He withheld his kisses for a moment to allow his eyes to drink you in from head to toe as his hands followed your silhouette.

“Did you match for me?” he mused as he stared at your matching bra and panties.  “A bit hopeful tonight, were you?” he grinned as he nuzzled your jawline with his nose. “Expectations indeed.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you replied. “And yes, a little bit hopeful...”

His nose continued to follow the curve of your neck then your shoulder as he talked, his breath coating your skin.  “Then I’ll consider this a fortunate turn of events.  I typically don’t expect such intimacy on the second date, but for you I’m more than happy to make an exception.”

Barbatos’s teeth caught on the strap of your bra as his eyes stared over your shoulder to observe the tantalizing view of his hand caressing the curve of your lace-covered ass.  It made your stomach flip, your head spin, and your heat grow between your legs, the slick already building thick within your thin panties.  You were eager; you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right this instant, in any which way.  But Barbatos was the opposite; he took his time and savored.  It was driving you mad.  You shifted your stance just slightly in impatience, the sound of your shoes clicking on the stone floor of his room.

It was enough to catch his attention, to release your bra strap from his pearly white teeth and look down at your heels.  “Hm, perhaps we should remove those shoes of yours...” he smiled against your lips.

Before you could protest, he bent just enough to wrap his arms around your thighs and hoisted you up in his arms, your body pressed against his.  It shocked you how easily he lifted you, as if you weighed practically nothing, his lean muscular figure disguising his demonic strength.

Slowly he walked you back towards his bed as his mouth began to leave kisses in your cleavage, his tongue flicking out occasionally to lick and taste. It made your breaths come out in pants, made your body squirm slightly in his hold, and yet he held you steadily until he reached his destination.

You had thought he would have tossed you onto his bed, following with his body. Or at least that was what you had hoped for.  However, Barbatos always managed to surprise you with the unexpected.  Instead, he set you gently back down on your feet.

“Sit,” he ordered. His tone was soft and not at all overbearing or firm, yet you found yourself following the command instantly.

Then he kneeled before you and gently lifted your left foot. His hands carefully removed your shoe followed by a trail of gentle kisses up your ankle to your calf.  Then he set down your left foot and repeated the action with your right, once again removing the shoe carefully and following it up with kisses.

However, this time, the kisses didn’t stop at your calf. His lips kept traveling.  Past the knee, up the inside of the thigh... your legs parted willingly as your breaths began to quicken, your clit pulsing heavily for him in anticipation.  As he got closer, he pushed your legs wider still, his palm firm against the inside of your knee, and pulled you closer to him until your ass was barely on the edge of his soft, plush mattress.

He paused once he was between your legs, and inhaled through his nose, his eyes closing as if he were savoring a rich, herbal tea.

“I love your scent,” he whispered. 

His eyes opened and you gasped as his green irises glowed, his canines slightly sharper and longer.  The human illusion faded away like a mirage and now you could see the small, bony wings in place of horns, could see the long, double-ended serpentine tail curling and twitching behind him, shining wet.  He still wore his clothes from the evening, his shirt half unbuttoned.

Barbatos watched you with an unreadable gaze.  “Are you afraid?” he asked.

You shook your head vigorously.  “No,” you breathed.  “Just amazed at how beautiful you are.”

Barbatos chuckled, low and deep, ending on a soft hum.  “She says with her legs spread wide for me...” His finger trailed the shape of you through your panties and your body twitched as you bit your lip.  “Trust me when I say you are the beautiful one.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed your core, right on that tight bundle of nerves through the delicate fabric.  You gasped against it, a moan bursting from your chest as you leaned back further, bracing your weight on your hands.  Barbatos’s eyes flashed up at you, brows low and pupils blown wide with lust. He kissed you again, firmer this time.  Again, you whined for him, your thighs tensing as pleasure tickled your nerves from the epicenter of his touch.

On his third return, his tongue flicked out to lick you through the fabric, followed by the press of his lips as his mouth closed over your clit.

You were panting heavily now, your heart pounding against your ribs in desperation.  Again, he licked and kissed.  And again.  Slowly, steadily, with more pressure than before.  His fingers began to stroke your entrance through the fabric, his long fingers drawing up and down.

As his mouth worked you higher and higher through your panties, you felt the warm wetness of his tail wrap itself around your leg and slowly slither up in a spiraling, winding trail.  It was foreign, stimulating, and entirely erotic.  As the tips of his tail reached the height of your inner thigh, they slipped beneath your panties, gliding against your lips and teasing your entrance, causing it to spasm.  Then the tail hooked around the sopping wet fabric and pulled it aside, allowing Barbatos unimpeded access to your cunt as his hands remained firm against the inside of your knees, keeping you spread so wide that the hamstrings of your thighs burned.

“Beautiful...” he murmured as he stared at your pussy with heavy lidded eyes.

Then his mouth was on you, tongue dipping, lips pressing, sucking. You cried out, your head falling back as your back arched.  The arousal tightened, sharpened, until you were sure you would cut yourself on it, bleed out all the desire in a gush. Your breaths grew heavier, faster.  Your hips began to rock, your legs tremble.

But just as you were about to reach your zenith, Barbatos pulled away.

“W-what??” you protested. “Hey!”

Barbatos chuckled as he wiped his shining wet lips with his thumb.  “My apologies. I am not usually one to leave a duty unfinished. However...” his gaze on you grew dark as he stood and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.  “I made a promise to myself a long time ago.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.  You were still salty he’d stopped, stealing your orgasm from you.  “What promise?”

With his shirt unbuttoned and removed, he began to undo the buckle of his pants.  He pulled the belt from the loops around his waist, then continued to unbutton the top of his slacks.  His pants loosened, sagging to catch on his hips and the hard cock that tented his pants.

You swallowed as you stared at him, your eyes following the curves of his iliac crests, the muscles of his abdomen in soft relief against the firelight.  The soft tuft of dark hair below his navel gave way to the base of his cock, still barely hidden beneath his slacks.

A realization hit you.  Barbatos didn’t wear underwear. No boxers, no briefs, nothing.  Nothing but the thin black fabric of his slacks between his cock and the world.

Your hands reached out, grabbing onto the fabric to tug it down and free him as he watched you with amusement in his eyes.  His cock sprang free, perfect and beautiful.  Your hand wrapped around it, feeling the warmth of it, the smoothness of the skin, the veins that trekked along its sides...

Barbatos’s finger tucked beneath your chin and forced your eyes to look up at him.

“I promised myself,” he continued, “that the first time I make you cum, it’ll be on my cock.”

Your eyes widened and you swallowed. His smirk turned into a devilish grin as he dipped his head down and captured your mouth with his, the scent of you still on his lips.  As his tongue forced its way past your lips, his body invaded you, bearing down on you, forcing you to back further into the bed that smelled entirely of him.

He kissed you hungrily as his hand quickly undid the clasp of your bra before hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down off your legs, the clinging wet strings of arousal stretching and snapping as the material left your throbbing cunt. Then he was over you again, surrounding you, caging you with his body as his thighs pushed your legs open for him, the head of his cock nestled against your entrance.

“Please...” you begged, your body taut with need.

He stared at you, the affection heavy in his gaze and written in the flush of his cheeks like paint on paper.

“You will tell me if it’s too much, yes?” he said softly.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

You hooked your legs around the back of his thighs and pressed, and he obliged, the leaking head of his cock pushing into your wet heat as his lips parted in a silent breath. You inhaled, your ribcage expanding and your back arching as his cock dragged across every awakened nerve within you, causing your walls to clench tightly around his girth.  He was long, and he filled every inch of you and then some, pushing you past your limits as you gasped in a short cry.

Barbatos froze for a moment, concern in his veridian eyes.  But your body quieted, your expression one of bliss rather than pain, and he breathed as he pulled out and entered you again slowly, feeling the way your body greeted him, took him, made a home for him.  Every inch of you was trembling; the air leaving your lungs on shaky breaths, your thighs practically vibrating, your walls fluttering.

Barbatos’s hand cupped your cheek and he pressed his forehead to yours as you looked at him through half-open, lust-blown eyes.

“My pretty girl...” he whispered tenderly.  “My pretty little human.  So fragile, so beautiful.  Look at you, laid out before me, shaking like a leaf.” He pulled out slowly and pushed in again, the muscles of his biceps shaking with restraint.  “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this moment...”

You smiled and gave a breathy laugh that ended in a hitch as he bottomed out in you.  “At least as long as I have, I hope...”

Barbatos smiled against your lips. “Longer,” he promised, followed by a stolen kiss.

But words could only last for as long as you both had focus, and it quickly waned in favor of the pleasure that washed over you with each thrust, your body and mind immersed in the feel of him.  With your body fully acclimated and pliable beneath his touch, his thrusts quickened as speech gave way to sounds of pleasure; of grunts and groans, gasps and pants.

Barbatos’s knowledge of the human body was not to be underestimated. With each dip of his hips, his cock rubbed against your most sensitive parts, each thrust ending in a grind of his groin to roll your swollen, sensitive clit against him.  His hand caressed your body, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers, before sliding down to grip your thigh against him as his mouth devoured yours.

Your body shifted, your breaths quickened, catching in your chest as the arousal swelled, nerves on fire. “Please...” you begged as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.  “Please, I’m so close...”

He sat up, adjusting his angle to allow his cock to press harder against the top of your walls where you were most sensitive.  The change position allowed him the full freedom of his hands, and he took full advantage.  He held your right leg over his shoulder while his other hand drew fast, steady circles over your swollen clit with his thumb.  He quickened his thrusts for you, spurred by your pleas, your confessions of pleasure.  He watched in rapture as your eyes glazed over then widened, as your back arched when your orgasm piqued, igniting across your nerves.  Over and over, it crashed over you, drowning you, stealing your voice in favor of gasps of air and primal moans.

Barbatos relished the sight, the way you broke before him, because of him.  He relished in the feel of you tight around his cock, your walls pulsing, sucking him in.  He released your leg from his grip and leaned over you again, his lips stealing yours as he pistoned even faster, now that he was able to finally chase his own release.  He buried himself in you with each thrust, the ‘pap’ ‘pap’ of skin hitting skin loud in his ears.  You cried out against him with each thrust, your teeth digging into his shoulder.  If it weren’t for your legs tightening in an iron grip around him, he would have stopped, checked you for injuries.  But instead, you clung to him, your body beyond words, beyond control.

Were you going to cum again? So soon?

The thought alone was enough to send Barbatos over the edge, hot cum spilling from his cock with a groan as he rode out the burning wave of pleasure that washed over him.  With each release of his load into you, a new wave followed, and he chased it relentlessly, savoring every second of you pinned beneath him, wrapped around him...

Your body spasmed against him and you half moaned, half cried into his shoulder, your arms tight around his neck as your hips rolled and bucked, your breaths forced out on a parched, hot tongue and burning lungs. It only added to his own pleasure; not just the fresh spasming of your cunt around him, milking the last of what he had to offer, but the way you moaned for him, clung to him, needed him, as if you’d shatter if every inch of you weren’t touching.

With the majority of his orgasm already falling to the wayside, he kept his pace until he was sure you had finished, when your death grip on his neck finally loosened and your head fell back damp with sweat into his rich bedsheets, panting heavily for air.

Barbatos was less winded of course, thanks to his superior strength and stamina.  It allowed him the opportunity to lift himself on his arms and stare down at you, memorizing every detail.

As your breaths finally eased, your eyes fluttered open.  As soon as you saw him staring down at you, you covered your face with a giggle.  Barbatos smiled and grabbed your hand in his, pulling it off your face and pinning it above your head.  He kissed you with smiling lips, and you returned it in kind, your free hand wrapping lazily around his neck, your fingers gently threading through his sweaty strands.  He kissed you again, and again, moving from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw. You giggled against it, and he smiled against your skin as he buried his face into your neck and allowed himself to rest some of his weight onto you.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked.  His voice was low and reverberated into your chest.

Your fingers lightly grazed back and forth along the back of his neck absently.

“Yeah,” you replied drowsily.  “You?”

“Hm, yes.” he confirmed.  “Very much so.”

After a long quiet moment, you spoke again, your eyes staring at the ceiling.  “That was... wow.”

Barbatos pulled back sightly to look at you.  “Do you regret it? Was it too soon?”

You looked at him in confusion and gave an amused laugh. “Definitely not. I’ve been wanting for that forever.” A pause.  “How about you? Do you regret it?”

Barbatos smiled as he allowed the tips of his fingers to trace your body.  He followed your neck, your shoulder, the curve of your breast.  His smile widened as your nipple perked and hardened under his touch. 

“No,” he replied.  “It happened sooner than I expected, but trust me when I say I have zero regrets. Had I known it would be like this, I would have claimed you sooner.”

You stared at him with poorly masked surprise. Barbatos gave a soft chuckle as his fingers continued their trek down along your hip to your thigh.

“I meant what I said earlier this evening...” he said as he watched his hand travel. “I do not look into your future.  I did not know this would happen.” His hand trailed back up your side to visit the gentle slopes of your arm, following the lines to your sensitive palm.  His fingers twined with yours and he looked back at your eyes.  “And I’m glad.  Seeing this future would have dulled the experience. It was meant to happen like this; unexpected and perfect.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you pulled him against you as you kissed him tenderly. When your lips parted again, amusement colored your expression.

“I think I’m ready for that tea now.”

Barbatos grinned down at you.  “Absolutely not.  I will make us fresh tea.” He glanced down pointedly at where your bodies were still joined, although his white, sticky cum had long since begun to leak out onto the bedding.  “But first, perhaps a bath.”

You laughed as you followed his gaze.  “Yes, a bath would be nice.”

You had expected him to pull out of you, to help you stand and walk with you.  You were prepared for the walk of shame, the humorous waddle of cupping your hand between your legs to catch any remaining drops of Barbatos’s gift that would inevitably leak out on your journey to the bathroom.  But instead, his tail slithered its way between your back and the mattress and wrapped around your waist, as his hands gripped the globes of your butt.

“Hold on,” he ordered.

“What’re you—AH!”

He hoisted you up in his arms, your body securely pressed against his.  You giggled into his shoulder as he carried you to the bathroom, his tail loosening around your waist in order to open the door while he continued to support your weight easily with his palms.

He set you down near the toilet.  “If my memory of human anatomy is still correct, you should pee.”

You sat on the toilet to do as he asked, and watched as he began to fill the very large bathtub with hot water. The sight of him nude in front of you was both arousing and odd.  He always kept himself covered from head to toe, so much so that even the slightest hint of arm or shoulder had been enough to make your blood run hot and your thighs squeeze together on more than one occasion.  But now, you could see every inch of him, and you realized what an absolute insult it was to have his figure covered up at all times.

He looked up to catch you staring at him and you averted your eyes quickly. He smirked.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

You nodded as you cleaned yourself.

He held out his hand to you.  “Then come join me.”

You did, stepping into the bathwater with his body behind you. You sighed as you leaned back against him, the water coming up to barely cover your breasts.  His hands caressed your arms, your legs; any part of you he could easily touch.

It was a soft silence, a gentle togetherness where words had no place.  There was no need for them.  They were too loud, too plain... there was no way to capture what either of you felt, and there was no need to define or label, to announce or question.  Before the two of you were not, and now you were. The transition into togetherness came with ease, forged through intimacy and surrender, through the carefully laid bricks of friendship and time.

Barbatos washed your hair for you, planting a kiss to your forehead as you tilted your head back to rinse.   He washed your back too, and your arms, the soft washcloth trailing over every inch of skin.  Your knees, your thighs...  But then the washcloth was abandoned in favor of his fingers between your legs, parting your lips beneath the warm, sudsy water to find the pearl of nerves nestled protectively at the apex of your folds.

“Barbatos...” you moaned as you felt that familiar heat reignite. He planted a silent kiss to your temple as he began to move his first two fingers in small circles.  Your legs spread as far as they could within the tub, and he took that as an invitation to increase his pace as his other hand cupped and massaged your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers with small pinches.

He worked you quickly and with ease.  Within a minute, your head was tilted back against his shoulder as he watched his hand work you beneath the water, your body tensing and flexing each time he passed the pads of his fingers over you.  Quicker and quicker he circled, increasing the pressure until that familiar sound of your heavy panting greeted his ears and your hips rocked, causing your back to press against his hard cock.  He pressed kisses against your jaw line, your neck, and he watched your face as your eyes fluttered closed and your brows drew together, your mouth slightly parted.

You came with a groan, your back arching against him, and he maintained his pace, his digits circling vigorously as he whispered soft praises into your ear.

“Good girl.  My beautiful girl...”

As the pleasure receded to a low hum across your skin, you slumped against him with a sigh and closed eyes.  After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked at him. He smiled and kissed you.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Do I need a reason?” he replied.  His hands caressed your shoulders as his lips grazed the curve of your ear.  “Because I wanted to,” he whispered.

You turned as best you could in the tub and kissed him tenderly.

You wanted to reciprocate, to run your fingers through his dark green hair as you washed it, to cleanse his pale skin with soap on your palms and affection in your touch.  You wanted to make him feel as good as you felt, to know the weight of him in your hand, your mouth...

But he spoke first.

“Come,” he ordered. 

Before you could protest, Barbatos disentangled himself from you and stepped lithely out of the tub. He grabbed one towel and wrapped it around his lean frame.  Then he grabbed a second towel for you and held it open in quiet invitation.  Unable to say no, you stood and stepped out of the tub, the cool air of the bathroom kissing your skin for only a moment as turned your back to him.  He wrapped the soft cloth around you, his arms wrapping around you as he did so.  He pulled you close against him until his chin rested on your shoulder.

“There is a spare robe on the rack by the door,” he explained. “And you may borrow any of my clothes if you so wish. I will make us a fresh batch of tea.”

With a kiss planted against your wet hair, he stepped away. You watched as he abandoned his towel and grabbed his other robe, pulling his arms through the sleeves before crossing the fabric over his nudity and tying the sash.  With a brief glance and a small smile, he stepped out and closed the door, as if to give you privacy you no longer needed.

You breathed a heavy breath slowly from your lungs, allowing the release to steady you as you processed the reality of all that had transpired thus far.

The mellow acceptance you’d felt earlier when Barbatos was with you gave way to a mixture of elation and shock that hummed through your body and mind, reverberating against your isolation within the bathroom.  It felt as if your heart would explode, the beating muscle unable to keep up with the demands of the emotions that swirled inside of you like a vortex. You felt up-ended, chaotic, yet free.

This wasn’t at all how you thought this would happen. You had always pictured the process as slow, requiring a level of patience you weren’t entirely sure you possessed.  You’d ease into it, learn how to navigate Barbatos’s complexity on a level that you had yet to explore or fully understand, like learning to sail for the first time in uncharted waters.

Instead, the tether of caution, of safety, had been snapped from its mooring, and now you felt you were spinning, drifting, carried out on a heavy tide with no knowledge of where it led or how to navigate it; a small boat in deep waters, large waves, and not a paddle to be found. 

You wanted to trust in it. To trust in him.  To trust the softness of his touch, the delicacy of his kisses, the honesty of his words.

You wanted to trust that you would be kept safe, protected; that your small little boat would not be capsized by the weight of all that he was – an ancient, timeless, a creature beyond human understanding.  You wanted to trust that he would not let you drown, would not let you sink into the bottomless black, dragged deep by the limits of your mortality and understanding.

To trust your heart to him, your soul... it was like trusting the ocean to be kind to you, as if the ocean were anything but indifferent.

But Barbatos was not indifferent. In fact, he was far from it.  But he wasn’t human, either.  His view of life, death, the world... it went far beyond your own comprehension, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you, in all of your insignificance, had managed to even catch his attention to begin with, let alone hold his eye.

You began to gather yourself, your movements slow and sluggish as you dried your body.  Your thighs and your cunt ached, but it was pleasurable, a soft reminder of the intimacy you’d shared. It helped root you to the present, to tear your eyes away from that distant, unknown horizon and focus on the sand beneath your feet.

You stepped out of the bathroom to the smell of a sweet, floral fragrance.  You quickly noticed the new bedding on his bed, and wondered if you’d lost track of time, or if he’d used magic to quickly change them.  Either way, it looked ready to sleep in.

Barbatos was by the small table with a fresh pot of tea, the arrangement prepared.  He was still in his robe, the silky fabric loosely open towards the top providing a pleasant view of his chest.  He looked up from when you entered and smiled as his eyes raked over your figure.

“Perhaps I should let you keep that,” he said.

You looked down at the robe.  “If I did, then it’d have to come back with me to the House of Lamentation,” you teased as you walked towards him.

Barbatos narrowed his eyes.  “Then, perhaps not.  Such beauty should be for my eyes only.”

He took you into his arms as soon as you were within reach and kissed you. Then he motioned to the table and chairs.

“Tea?” he offered.

You laughed.  “Yes.”

You both sat, the air between you warm and comfortable, the conversation between you flowing easily.  It eased your nerves and quieted your fears.  In private moments like this, it didn’t matter that you were a human, and he was a demon.  What mattered was the happiness, the laughs, the comfort it brought you to be in his presence.  The foundation of the two of you remained, and yet there was a newness that coated it, a novelty and open curiosity.  Your feet played with his under the table; his tail teased your leg.  And the looks shared were a newly opened secret, an invitation to explore each other’s hearts, while sensitive hands itched to explore each other’s bodies.

Once the tea was gone, the conversation moved to the couch in front of the fire.  You curled yourself up against Barbatos’s side as your eyes watched the flames dance.

“How come I’ve never heard the Divine Language before?” you asked, your brow furrowed. “I talk to you and all the other demons and angels just fine.”

Barbatos gave a small smile.  “That’s because we are naturally fluent in every language. We speak to you in your language because we have to.”

Your head lifted from his shoulder.  “Really? I mean, I guess that makes sense...I just...huh. Never really thought about it.”

Your head went back to its resting place.

“I did mean it, earlier…” he said softly.  “You were safe at the opera.”

You were silent for a long moment.  “I believe you.  But for me, as a mortal, even the slightest possibility of not being safe was terrifying.”

Barbatos’s arm tightened around you.  “I assure you; I had multiple failsafes in place in the highly unlikely possibility that I was incorrect.”

You lifted your head again to look at him.  “Like what?”

He glanced at you and returned his gaze to the fire.  “In the worst-case scenario, I was prepared to teleport you instantly.”

“But that’s not the worst-case…” you said softly.  “Worst-case would be if teleporting is too late.”

Barbatos was silent for a long moment, his expression locked in stillness.  “If such a thing happened, then I would be forced to use my ability.”

“With Lord Diavolo’s permission…”

A muscle twitched in his jaw.  “Yes, of course.”

You didn’t feel entirely convinced by his response, which alarmed you.  Barbatos was always absolute in not using his time travel ability without the Prince’s explicit permission or instruction. Even the hint of possibility that his commitment to that single, most important rule would potentially falter... because of you...

“However,” he continued, his gentle smile returning, “even average humans can withstand the power of the Divine Language for at least a few minutes.”

Relief filled you.  “Really?”

“How do you think God and his angels talked to the prophets?” He grinned.  “So, I will tell you again, you were safe.”

You smiled appreciatively at his reassurances, but it dissipated as you had another curious thought.

“If you were so worried about the risks and had so many plans in place, why didn’t you just... not invite me?  Or maybe take me somewhere else?”

Barbatos gave a small, embarrassed laugh.  “Yes, I did consider that option first.  However, we’d already been struggling to find time for each other recently.  And I did not want the young master’s efforts to go to waste, even though he hadn’t considered the concerns regarding the Divine Language.”  He tilted his head slightly as he watched the flames.  “Besides, I thought the love story was somewhat... fitting.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. In a strange way, it was.  You snuggled tighter against him.

An idea popped into your head.

“Can you speak the Divine Language?” you asked.

“Of course, I can. I am a demon after all.”

You looked up at him again, your eyes shining. “Say something to me.”

Barbatos stared down at you with wide eyes.  “Like what?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know... Whatever you want.”

Barbatos stared at you as he thought.  Then he took a hesitant breath and spoke.

The sounds were a melody, a chorus of voice tuned to his deep tone.  It washed over you gently, blanketing you until every inch of you felt warm and safe.  It chased away your fears of death and loss, and instead, it made you want to trust him with your life.  His finger gently traced the line of your jaw as he spoke, a gentle smile on his lips. It was short, lasting mere seconds, yet it somehow felt longer.

Silence fell between you as your mind gradually cleared.

“Did you understand it that time?” he asked curiously.

“I... I don’t know. Was I supposed to?”

“It was directed at you, so I had hoped you would.”

“It wasn’t so much words, but more of a... feeling?”

“What did it feel like?”

“Being safe... and warm... Is that how it works? Through feelings and pictures?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve never been human.”

You made a face. “Eh, that’s okay. It’s overrated.”

He laughed deep and rich, and the sound of it made you laugh too, the joy contagious.  Then his smile faded, and he tilted his head at you.

“So, what did you say?” you asked.

Barbatos was silent for a moment, as if debating with himself.  Finally, he spoke quietly, his voice solemn.  “I told you I will always protect you.”

Your stared at him with parted lips, hoping to find the words that could equal his own, but there were none.  Instead, you kissed him gently, your hand cupping his jaw.  He reciprocated, his hand covering yours as his arm tightened around you.  It made the latent desire in you reawaken, and you deepened the kiss with your tongue.  Barbatos welcomed you, his mouth opening with yours, his warm tongue swiping and tasting. 

You hummed and crawled into his lap, your legs straddling him.  The action forced your robe to part below the sash, exposing yourself to him.  The sight brought a pleased hum into the back of his throat, and his kisses deepened, battling your tongue for supremacy.  His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips through the fabric to pull you closer against him.

His cock awakened within seconds, hard and hot, and you pressed your wet cunt against the length of it.  You rolled your hips until your clit rubbed against him, and moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound with his tongue swiping along yours as his hands forced your hips to roll on him again.  Your hands began to untie the sash of his robe and he chuckled against your lips.

“Again?” he teased.

The sash gave way, and you pushed the edges of his robe aside to expose the length of his body beneath you.   “Shut up,” you replied playfully as you savored the feel of his chest with your hands.

Barbatos’s cock twitched beneath you, and he began untying your robe in return.  “You lose your manners when you’re horny,” he grinned. “My impatient little human.”

He pushed the robe off your shoulders, and it dropped behind you off the couch.  He started at your silhouette in the firelight, his hands caressing your curves.

Your hand wrapped around the shaft of him and gave him a couple of languid strokes, teasing the flushed head with your thumb. Barbatos closed his eyes and hummed.

You tutted at him.  “Yes, well this impatient little human is going to ride your very big demon cock,” you breathed lustfully.

He growled low, and when he opened his eyes, they glowed like emeralds caught in sunlight.  “You should be careful what you say to a demon, my dear.” He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you lined yourself up with him, your dripping cunt hovering over his cock head. “I have more control than most, but even I have my limits.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into soft flesh, as you lowered yourself onto him slowly, your gaze hazy and lovesick.  Your eyes rolled back, your lids closing, as you reached the base of his cock, taking every inch, his tip pressing deep into you.  It ached, your body still sore from earlier.  It blended with the burning pleasure as he stretched you, creating a sweet harmony of love and pain, pleasure and danger.  You rocked your hips slightly, then slid back up, only to come back down again with a slowness that even rivaled Barbatos’s patience.

“Then again…” he muttered as his eyes watched his cock disappear into you, “perhaps I made you wait too long.”

You moaned softly, your head nodding in hazy affirmation as you slid up and down his cock again. Barbatos’s hands began to move your hips, forcing you to rub your clit against him with each descent.  The pressure of his hands forced you to quicken your pace.

“Humans…” he continued teasingly as he watched your breasts start to bounce deliciously. “You always want everything now, now, now.”

Your eyes were closed in ecstasy, your head lolling back.  Your lips curled into a grin.  “Are you saying I’m spoiled?” you breathed.

He forced you down harder onto his cock and you moaned as your cunt tightened.  Fresh arousal coated his shining shaft, dripping slowly down his balls.

“Not yet, my sweet girl.  But you will be.”

Then Barbatos wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close against him as he snapped his hips up to meet yours, his cock slamming into you. You yelped and clung to him, your face buried into his neck. He did it again. And again. Each time, he pushed your hips down to meet his as he thrusted. Each time you cried out in high pitched whines as your breaths were knocked from your lungs. And each time, his cock grew harder and harder as he felt his own pleasure rapidly rising. Your body caught his fast rhythm, your thighs and your hips working yourself frantically on his cock as you rode him.  Your breasts were pressed against him, his teeth digging into your collarbone as you panted, your whines rising in pitch with each hit of your sensitive walls.  Your hands gripped the couch on either side of his head, your brows drawn together as you chased the release you so desperately craved.

Barbatos looked up at you, watched the curve of your neck, your jaw.  Watched every little way your muscles and tendons twitched and spasmed as the tension built within you.  His own pleasure was building swiftly, and he was determined to have you cum with him while he spilled himself inside your sensitive walls.  His thick tail wrapped around your waist, the tips of it dipping between your legs.  The tips were dexterous, wet and warm, and they tickled your clit, pressing against it, pinching, swiping.  With your eyes squeezed shut it nearly felt like being eaten out while being fucked.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cried.

He timed it perfectly, your orgasm cascading over you just as his crested, his load filling you as you rode him. He couldn’t suppress the grunts and groans that overtook him, couldn’t fight the way his strong hands forced you down onto him over and over again with brutal intensity as his tail tightened around you.  You cried his name, wrapped in moans of pleasure as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over, leaving wet tracks on your cheeks that dripped onto his shoulder.

He felt them, cold, wet drops landing on his hot skin.  He took your face in his hands and kissed you passionately as his tail kept you in place, helping your body to rut against him through the final stretch of your shared orgasm, his cock twitching the last drops into your cunt.

Finally, his tail relaxed around your waist, and you collapsed against him with your arms around his neck and your face buried into his shoulder.  Your entire body heaved as your lungs gasped for air. The elation pumping through your veins faded away to reveal the pain waiting beneath it in the form of burning thighs, fiery lungs, and a cunt that felt bruised and battered.

Barbatos’s hands gently caressed your back as he waited for you to recover. Once your breaths steadied and your heart no longer pounded loud enough for Barbatos to hear it, he spoke.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

There was a pause that worried him, and then you nodded your head against his shoulder.

But you didn’t speak yet, and so he continued.  “Was I too rough?”

Your response was quicker this time, your head shaking in denial.

He gave a soft, worried chuckle.  “Can you talk?”

You giggled softly and forced yourself to sit up just enough to look at him. Your face was shining with sweat, and your eyes looked tired.  “I’m okay, I promise,” you finally said.  Then you laid against him again, your body feeling like stretched out rubber.

He tightened his arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder.  “Do you feel satisfied yet?” he asked.

You laughed against him, even though the action made your ribs ache.  The richness of it warmed him, pushing his lingering worries back to the distant horizon of his mind. 

“Yes, very much so,” you replied.  “But I probably won’t be able to do that again tonight.”

Barbatos sat up slightly from his slouched position, and the action made you wince, his soft cock still nestled inside you.

He paused for a moment before making you sit up enough to look at him.

“You’re hurt,” he commented, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sore, there’s a difference,” you replied with a grin.  “Don’t worry, I promise I’m fine. I’m just... gonna move real slow for a while.”

“You will not move at all until you’re well again,” he replied firmly.

You put your forehead to his, a playful grin on your lips.  “Hmm, does that mean I get to stay in your bed while you dote on me?”

Barbatos smirked and he kissed you with a peck.  “Perhaps...”

“Then yes,” you replied. “I’m sore. So sore.  Suffering, even.  I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a week.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be able to recover so quickly if you’re in my bed?” he replied mischievously as his hands lightly squeezed your ass.

“Barbatos,” you scolded mockingly, “are you telling me that you would take advantage of me in my weakened state?  That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

Barbatos chuckled.  “I’m a demon, not an angel,” he replied.  “I told you earlier even I have my limits.”  He kissed you softly.  “But... I promise to be gentle.”

You kissed him softly in return.  Then he wrapped his arms and tail around you, and this time you were prepared as he lifted you up again and carried you once more to the bathroom.

He was dutiful in his care, his touches gentle and patient.  And when you were both clean again, he picked you up in his arms again and carried you to his bed, a gesture you were quickly growing accustomed to.  He set you gently into the plush bedding and followed after you, pulling his thick, clean covers over the both of you.  As soon as your head hit his pillow, sleep claimed you, your eyes drifting shut as you drank in the warmth of his skin against yours. They would not open again until the morning.

And as you slept, Barbatos stared at you in the dying firelight of the late night.  His fingers absently danced along your arm, your hair, your back. And as he touched you gently, the time passed, seconds into minutes, and minutes into hours.  The embers turned to ash, the room pitched into blackness, and Barbatos still could not sleep, as he battled within himself.  Finally, in defeat, he allowed himself one confession, to be spoken barely at a whisper in a language your soul would feel but your brain would not understand. The lilting, singing words spoken on a divine, immortal tongue drifted past his lips, unable to be recalled or undone.

“I love you.”

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

When did Viktor choreograph Stammi Vicino and did he commission the music?

There are some controversies regarding Viktor's free programme and I took the time to look at them in greater detail and pin them down to the likeliest explanation. (some of the things discussed in this post I've mentioned in a discussion I was involved in recently. The rest of this post builds on that.)

Disclaimer: Please note that this is an analysis of the source material. Popular headcanons that have no basis in canon cannot be part of this discussion. This is getting a bit academic. Please bear with me.

1. Did Viktor commission the music for Stammi Vicino?

In an interview, Mitsurou Kubo called the aria a piece of music that exists in the world of YOI, but when we subject the hints in the anime to a close examination, they contradict her statement, making you wonder which is true.

I mean, there’s this (sorry for the crappy screenshot)

Technically, the YOI creators might just have used footage of this programme because there was no time to animate Viktor skating an entirely different routine, but due to the tight time constraints of 12 episodes that forced the creators to condense the plot to 50% of its initial size, every scene and every image demanded to be filled with meaning. Speaking of time constraints, they could have used a series of pictures that show adult Viktor in different costumes (like those that had been drawn for Yuuri's room), but they didn't do that either, which rules out technical reasons for this choice.

But there’s more.

From a storytelling perspective, it makes no sense to combine these lines with a short scene of Viktor skating Stammi Vicino if it doesn’t apply to this programme. It’s bad storytelling, period. As Viktor’s fan, Yuuri knows which songs Viktor commissioned because skaters love to talk about these things in interviews. Being a skater himself, Yuuri is knowledgeable in all kinds of music genres even if he lets his coach pick the songs for him. Skaters just happen to be exposed to a lot of music.

This scene makes it seem as if Viktor has been commissioning music for his programmes for several seasons at least. While this doesn’t rule out the possibility that he occasionally picked a song that already exists for whichever reason, Stammi Vicino applies to Viktor’s situation at the beginning of the show so neatly that the lyrics must have been tailored to him. The commentator’s words while Viktor is skating his FS furthermore suggest that this programme shows a new and personal side of him. Of course, that could also work for a song that already exists, but how likely is it that such a song 100% matches the vision of a perfectionist? That a genius like Viktor would just roll with that is debatable at least. He’d rather think “Okay, that’s nice. But this verse and that verse don’t match my idea at all. I think I'll call my composer and ask them to write a song for me.”

Stammi Vicino holds unambiguous references to Plato’s Symposium, which the YOI creators have mentioned repeatedly. And while this is neither an argument for or against the song already existing before Viktor even thought about a free programme for the season in question, it seems too coincidental from a storytelling perspective.

To me, all this points to Viktor commissioning Stammi Vicino because taken all facts together, it’s what makes the most sense.

Side note: It’s not entirely uncommon for storytellers to contradict their creation. Sometimes, you forget details, remember them wrong, or didn’t think them through. Or your views simply change. In the case of YOI, we have to factor in the possibility that certain details had to be de-homoed due to protests from parts of the Japanese fandom. The rings that were removed from many official arts that were released during the first year after the show had aired are such an example. In addition, interviews are often heavily edited.

2. When did Viktor choreograph Stammi Vicino?

The first time we see Viktor wearing the Stammi Vicino costume, is right at the beginning of episode 1 at the GPF. While there is no rule against wearing the same costume for different programmes and costumes are expensive, you usually don’t see this in real figure skating. Some figure skaters even get a new costume for the same programme mid-season because matches the purpose better.

The music, the composition and choreography, and costume build the concept of a figure skating programme. The more perfectionist a skater is (and many top skaters actually are), the more specific you can bet they are about the concept. Viktor is a perfectionist who has full authority over his programmes and he can afford having several costumes per programme. Wearing the same costume for several programmes is a breach with his characterisation.

Let’s assume for one moment that Viktor did indeed create Stammi Vicino because of his encounter with Yuuri at the GPF in Sochi. Why would the creators have been so sloppy and put him into the same costume which he wears at Worlds when they even designed costumes the other two GPF winners JJ and Chris?

Does he wear the same costume because he met Yuuri there? Well, Yuuri approached him at the banquet at the end of the competition and only because he was drunk. Before, Yuuri was to awkward to even talk to Viktor and was, in all likelihood, too busy not freaking out, dealing with having bombed his performance, and Vicchan's death. To reflect Viktor's first actual meeting with Yuuri in a programme, thus choosing a costume that resembles the suit he wore that night would make way more sense.

Some skaters change their programme mid-season. Some switch back to an old programme, other skaters create an entirely new programme. Again, a skater like Viktor could afford this and is skilled enough to bend a new routine to his vision in time for the big competitions. (For reference: Russian Nationals are two weeks after the GPF, which leaves a skater competing in both events one week in between. That’s just enough to pitch the idea to his composer and commission a costume.)

Once Nationals are over and done, Viktor could start working on the new programme and show it at Europeans for the first time. That would leave him about one month to bring it to a level that will win him this competition. Yuuri would now have about two months to create a perfect copy. As he his busy graduating and preparing his move back to Japan, it’s debatable whether this is enough time. That’s the only reasonable timeline for such a scenario. However, since Viktor wore the costume before the banquet, this doesn’t seem likely and the show gives us no clear-cut clue why that could be and I’m loath to speculate wildly.

BUT: Viktor can't have created this programme after Sochi because Yuuri explains to Yuuko that he started practising the programme when the competitions ended [for him, the season itself is not yet over]. For Yuuri, the season ended at Japanese Nationals, which happen to be at the same weekend as Russian Nationals.

Long story short: Everything points to Viktor having created Stammi Vicino at the beginning of the season in which he wins his fifth GPF and world title, respectively. And there’s a beauty in this choice because it gives Viktor an agenda beyond his love interest. Well-crafted characters exist outside of their interactions and relationships with the other characters. Giving them things that belong to them alone adds more depth to their personality and turn them into individuals. Viktor had a life before Yuuri and this life was lonely and his (secret) longing for love was an inherent part of it (I’m preparing a follow-up post that examines the lyrics more closely, so forgive me for not going into the details here).

Especially in a show that is limited to 12 episodes and in which every image is filled with meaning, including details that hint at the characters’ past are beyond precious.

Thanks for reading! <3

If you enjoy my meta, please consider checking out my works on AO3 (link in bio)! My YOI canon works all include my meta musings.

[talesofesther]

sweet calamity | ch 5

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.

A/N: I think this might be my favorite chapter yet. Let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 4 here

The clock on your bedside table read 1:16 AM. It was a little late, but also the only time when, technically, everyone was asleep.

You snuck out — well not really, considering you're not leaving the school, only your dorm — with careful and calculated steps, you made your way down the dark stairs and to the quad.

The reason for that, is that a particular flower you want to add to the quad's flowerbed only blooms at night. And you need to make sure that its color fits in well with the rest of the plants already there. Maybe it was futile and maybe it was your perfectionist side speaking, but you genuinely wanted the place to look nice when you were done.

Or you were just taking any small excuse you could get to keep your mind busy.

You could use your abilities if you wanted to, make the flower bloom during the day so you could see it in its full glory, but it didn't sit well with your heart to disturb its natural cycle.

So here you were, in your pajamas, shivering because of course you forgot your jacket, sneaking out into the night only to watch a few flowers bloom. It reminded you of the times that you'd do the same thing when staying over at your grandparents when you were younger; a smaller you hugging a huge cardigan around your shoulders, your bare feet feeling the grass between your toes as you sat down on the lawn and just waited for it to slowly happen.

The moon was high in the sky when you reached the quad, almost full and casting a pleasant glow for you. The air was cold, much colder than it was during the day but there was a certain comfort to it, you realized.

You closed your eyes for a moment, tilting your head up and breathing in deeply.

Quiet moments like these have always been some of your favorites.

She would probably enjoy it too.

Your mind drifted. You opened your eyes only to see a blanket of stars above you; endless, timeless.

Maybe she would complain about the colors, but you'd gladly add a few black flowers to the mix if she asked you to.

You shook your head, scolding yourself for missing someone who wasn't even yours, to begin with.

Five days ago, Wednesday found out you are her soulmate, and you haven't spoken with her since. It could be wishful thinking, but sometimes you had the feeling that she wanted to speak with you, however, you didn't feel much ready for that. The changes were small, like finding a new partner for a few classes that you used to sit with her, taking the longer path to some of them so you wouldn't end up bumping into her; little things to postpone what was most likely inevitable — you live in the same place after all, it was bound to happen — but for now, you didn't know what else you could do, other than avoid her.

With a soft sigh, you sat down on the ground, eyes fixed on your flowers in the middle of the quad. You hugged your knees close to your chest… and waited.

The night was serene, you could hear the rustling of leaves in the distance, crickets singing, and music.

A beat passed, and you frowned.

Music?

The melody was a little distant, but not much, you could hear it pretty clearly; soft notes coming from the cords of a cello.

You couldn't put a name to the song even if you tried, but you could tell it wasn't a happy one. The melody was somber; not creepy though, closer to sorrowful. It comes from the tallest room in Ophelia Hall, echoing through Nevermore's corners and undoubtedly waking a few students from their slumber.

You know it's Wednesday. Enid has complained to you about her cello solos in the dead of night one too many times already.

If you close your eyes and focus hard enough, you can picture her fingers moving with the cords, shaping the notes of the song.

From your spot on the quad, you look up at what you can see of the half-colorful round window. You stay there until her song ends and a little bit after, part of you knows she's still out there too. In times like these it feels like the universe is fighting to keep you close to Wednesday; you wonder when it'll see reason and give up — though secretly, part of you doesn't want it to. Because you could pretend you shared this little moment with her, after all, it was just you and her who were awake and out at this hour.

The thought of somehow feeling connected to her made you smile.

—

Wednesday dragged out the end notes of her song, the tip of her fingers burning and stinging over the cords; a pleasant, grounding feeling.

Thing closed her sheet music book, gesturing softly at her after.

"That's a silly question," Wednesday told him, setting aside her cello, "considering I have nothing to be worried about."

The disembodied hand gestured again, causing Wednesday to narrow her eyes at him.

"Her childish behavior does not bother me, I'm not sure why you would even assume that." She huffed, looking away from him with a clenched jaw, "she's the one who chose to keep it from me in the first place, so if she wants to keep her distance now…"

Wednesday breathed in deeply, she got up from her chair, and walked over to the edge of the balcony to let the cold wind kiss her cheeks, "it's just less work for me," she finished then.

Wednesday feels stuck in limbo sometimes, she doesn't understand the weight on her chest whenever she thinks of you, can't decide on how to feel about you nor why she even cares at all. She detests not knowing things, yet when it comes to soul bonds and flower perfumes, she sees herself walking blindfolded on a tightrope.

Thing came to her side carefully, he tapped her elbow, waiting until Wednesday's dark eyes settled on him. He gestured gently, his fingertips tapping the back of her hand once he finished.

In a quick move, Wednesday pulled her hand back and took a step away from him. She shook her head, breathing in deeply. "That could never be true," she pointed a finger at him, "say it again and I'll pick out each of your nails."

Wednesday turned around and walked back inside, leaving Thing alone in the night; but she laid in bed wide awake, staring at her ceiling for hours on end until the first birds started singing, his words replaying over and over in her mind.

———

The tall doors of the fencing room creaked when Wednesday pushed them open, the sunlight coming from the huge windows reflected on the pristine white walls and made the clashing blades shine.

The Addams girl walked between her peers, helmet in hand and chin held high. She could see their teacher instructing Xavier on his poor stance, holding his own blade in the correct position so the boy could copy. Wednesday scoffed when he failed again. He should stick to the bow and arrow, she thought.

Wednesday's gaze still looked for you in the crowds — while the teacher was busy getting frustrated with Xavier, she found you adjusting your uniform in the far corner of the spacious room.

She stalked closer, closing the distance between you and her. Your eyes found hers just before you lowered your helmet on your head and Wednesday could almost see the way your breathing faltered. She had caught you off guard.

You make to take a step back but your boot hits the wall, and it's suddenly very familiar to a recent memory that has been plaguing Wednesday's nights. She should hate you for it, for making her care about something she promised she wouldn't; but oh, she can't.

It's okay if you like her, there's nothing wrong with that.

Thing's words still echo in her mind.

Wednesday is quick to reach beside you, grabbing a blade for herself from the support on the wall and turning around to give you your desired space, because the image of you running away from her makes her stomach turn unpleasantly.

"Ready?" Bianca's voice caught Wednesday's attention and she looked up, only to see that the siren wasn't speaking with her, but with you.

You walked in front of her slowly, blade in hand as you took your stance, "yeah, ready."

Wednesday's grip on the steel handle of her own blade tightened; who was the absolute moron who paired you up with Bianca?

You were awful at fencing and Bianca was, arguably, even more competitive than Wednesday; and as much as she didn't want to admit it, the siren was good.

Your blade clashed with Bianca's for the first time, and a foreign feeling took over Wednesday's body as she watched the sparring unfold. She was restless, chest tight as she anticipated your every move.

Her lungs had a distant ache, because she's been holding her breath. Bianca's blade grazed the side of your head and Wednesday didn't know where to focus her unblinking eyes. She took a step closer when you almost lost your footing.

What the hell was happening to her?

Bianca was fast, too fast for you to follow. She striked, and you ducked out of the way but the movement caused the tip of her blade to scratch the side of your free hand.

Droplets of crimson red were quick to fall on the floor, staining the polished wood. The sharp pain made you wince, dragging your attention to the blood slowly flowing from the recent cut.

It was a blink-of-an-eye kind of thing. Bianca didn't see your wound, and you didn't see her going for the next blow until it was too late to defend yourself.

All that was heard was the loud clashing of steel against steel.

Wednesday stood in front of you, her blade holding Bianca's in place, with a look in her eyes that could send the bravest man running for the hills.

"What the hell, Wednesday?" Bianca snapped, lowering her weapon.

"This fight is clearly over," Wednesday tilted her head towards your bleeding hand, she still had her blade pointing to Bianca, daring her to object.

Bianca shifted her attention to you, her eyes softening, "shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright," you cut her off with a wave of your hand and a small, reassuring smile, "I'm alright."

"Addams," the teacher called, walking over to where you stood, "you're not allowed to interfere when other students are sparring".

Only when Wednesday saw Bianca walking away, did she lower her weapon. "Then you should learn how to properly pair up your students," she bluntly stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

The older man huffed, turning his gaze to you, "go to the infirmary." Was all he said before walking away.

You angrily took off your helmet, messing up your hair. "I had it under control," a frustrated scoff escaped you as you threw your blade to the floor. You refused to look up and meet Wednesday's eyes.

"Obviously not," she countered, "given how she was about to impale you with her sword had I not stepped in."

"Whatever, it's not like I asked for your help," you argued back a little too loudly and felt warmth rush to your cheeks when it attracted a few curious glances.

Wednesday flinched at your sudden tone, blinking a couple of times. You never snapped like that. After a beat of silence, she tried reaching out, "let me see it."

Only for you to take a big step back, holding your bleeding hand close to your chest as if trying to protect it. This distance, this brick wall you were trying to build up between you and her; it got Wednesday striving to keep her face impassive, to pretend like it wasn't taking away her sleep.

"I don't need you pretending like you care, Wednesday," you told her quietly, turning around to walk to the door, and Wednesday watched you leave. Again.

Her classmates were anything but subtle with the way they watched the two of you, no doubt wondering what about you was so special that prompted Wednesday to do what she had just done. To be honest, she was wondering the same thing.

With each of your steps — morning sunlight bathing you aureate as you walked — Wednesday could feel the thudding beat of her heart against her ribs, trying to escape her, trying to go after you.

Wednesday closed her eyes, mumbling a thousand curses under her breath as she shot down her ego. Damn you. She discarded her blade and helmet, hurrying to fall into step beside you.

"You're mine even if I don't want you to be," she forced out, sparing a single annoyed glance at you; her hand took hold of yours in a strong grip as she pulled you along, "I'm not letting anything happen to you."

—

The cut on your hand wasn't big, but the antiseptic still stung like a bitch.

You sat on one of the hospital beds of the infirmary, swinging your feet back and forth as the nurse wrapped a small bandage around your hand.

Wednesday was leaning back against the wall to your right, you could feel the weight of her eyes on you, unmoving; you felt like a deer under a panther's gaze.

But that analogy didn't work, did it?

You dare to steal a glance at her; you catch her straightening her posture, clearly not expecting you to do what you just did. Her eyelashes kiss the corner of her cheeks as she looks down at her boots, her arms crossed over her chest. There's something about her that wasn't there before, you just can't put your finger on it yet.

I'm not letting anything happen to you.

Why? You thought to yourself as you looked back at your hand, the white gauze now slowly turning a soft shade of pink. Why did she have to say that?

"You can come back later to change it one more time if you want to, but you should be fine by tomorrow," the nurse gently told you.

"Thank you, I will," you smiled, flexing your hand to test if the pain was still there. It was.

The older woman smiled back, before turning around to attend to a vampire girl who's accidentally eaten garlic.

You didn't move, only pursed your lips and gripped the edge of the bed; you had a feeling of what would happen next.

And it did.

Wednesday pushed herself away from the wall, her steps slow as she came to stand in front of you. She stopped closer than you thought she would.

"Lemon and salt will help," Wednesday told you.

Your head instantly snapped up to look at her, you frowned, eyes a tad too wide. "It'll sting like hell."

There's a ghost of a smile on Wednesday's lips that she never intended for you to see. She reached a hand to you, slowly, carefully, half expecting you to reject her touch again.

You didn't, and you're not sure why. But you did hold your breath before she even touched you.

She took hold of your injured hand, her fingers holding yours with a gentleness even she didn't know she was capable of. Wednesday turns your hand around, and somehow she knows you're back in that moment too.

She gulped, her thumb brushing over the dried blood stain on your uniform; "for the stain," Wednesday simply said.

"Oh," is all you can breathe out, afraid to break the spell that's holding this moment.

You allow yourself to savor her touch just for a second more before pulling your hand back.

Wednesday didn't comment on it, she refused to acknowledge the effect you have on her. She sets her jaw tight before saying; "I've been meaning to apologize."

You raised an eyebrow at her.

"For what I said when we first met," she continued, and you closed your eyes, because you were done crying.

"Had I known it was you I'd-"

"You what?" You interrupted her. "You'd tell me I'm not a burden? Or maybe that I shouldn't grow attached to you because you hated me before even knowing me?"

Wednesday's lips parted yet no words came out. This is wrong, this is all so wrong. She decides. This is not how our story should go.

You pushed yourself off the bed, picking up your bag to leave the infirmary.

And Wednesday follows, because that's all she can do now.

"Listen, Wednesday," you started after a sigh, pushing open the door and being welcomed with the chatter of Nevermore's busy hallways, "we can be friends if that's what you want us to be."

The students walking around you caused Wednesday to move closer, her shoulder bumping into yours with each step.

"But right now… I need time. And I need space." You shrugged, a melancholic smile coming to your lips.

Wednesday can't decide on how to feel, the thought of it brought a sour taste to her mouth. She should be glad, but that doesn't sit right with her either. And she thinks she should probably say something anyway, but before she could, someone else called out your name.

Both you and Wednesday turned to see Andrew waving animatedly to you as he molded his way between the students until he could reach you.

"Hey you," he greeted with a smile, then turned to the girl beside you, "Wednesday." He gave her a nod, and when she didn't answer, he looked back at you, "ready to present our work?"

You breathed in deeply, you hated talking in front of the class. "As I'll ever be."

"Relax, I'll be by your side the whole time." He offered.

You glanced at Wednesday before following him, the glint in your eyes resembling something akin to longing; "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Affection isn't a word Wednesday uses much, but she thinks of it a lot when it comes to you.

"Okay," she uttered quietly, and as you walked off with the guy, Wednesday managed to catch on to little bits of your next conversation;

"Hey so, you know how the Rave'n party is less than two weeks away, right? I was wondering if you'd like to go with me?" The annoying boy asked.

"Uh, yeah sure, I- I'd love to," was the last of your words that Wednesday could hear.

And she felt the strange urge to grab your hand and drag you away with her all over again.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 6 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @simp4wanda26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @ladey @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666

[stoopid-turtle]

made-up thoughts about dd's thoughts

Hi there! I warned y'all that I might post more and I've been watching SDC so I wanted to compile my massive load of DD thoughts. Apparently, I think about dd a lot.

I've struggle with how to organize these thoughts because they're so scattered and there are just a whole bunch of them. So I decided to center them around moments I think about a lot. Not necessarily fun dd moments, though some of them are fun. But just...moments that I feel tell me a lot about dd.

As a disclaimer, I'm making up a bunch of nonsense about dd as a person, but I don't actually know him and you shouldn't take anything I say seriously. I'm very likely to be wrong about most of it. In fact, if dd somehow managed to read this humble post, he would probably roll his eyes. And you know what? It would be an honor for him to have done so.

There'll be a few posts. There are three others in drafts right now, though I may combine two of them. We'll see. But I'm starting out with this one just because it was done first.

I'm at around ep 8 of SDC4, and I think the only way to watch subtitled versions of SDC5 are by downloading an app that Google won't let me download because of region restrictions (and then paying a subscription fee). Needless to say, I probably won't be able to watch SDC5 anytime soon. :(

(those episodes are sooooo looonnngggg)

There's an episode in SDC4 when the captains have picked 4 leaders to start off their teams. They put together a rehearsal battle to show the other contestants the captain's style and help make decisions during the next recruitment segment.

DD picks 4 top dancers as his leaders. These are fantastic dancers, specifically battle dancers. And they do horribly in the rehearsal battle because they're not used to dancing routine, there are no choreographers so while their performance was highly technical, it wasn't really entertaining or meaningful, and the team itself just didn't cohere because these are all people who specialize in battling alone.

DD has a little meltdown while his team loses, and it's kinda uncomfortable to watch. He says in a debrief with his team afterward that he's one of those people that likes winning (which, yeah, duh, DD).

I think a lot about DD's initial strategy. It seems straightforward. Get the best dancers. Have the best team. Work hard. Win.

DD's not a deep thinker. I don't mean he's stupid, because he's actually pretty smart and quick to pick up on things. But he just doesn't see the need to introspect or dwell on things. He strikes me as the type of person who might go through some difficult event and come out the other side wanting to just move on because, "It's in the past. Why bother thinking about it?"

(I think he is getting more introspective as he gets older, as evidenced with his performance of Like the Sunshine. I think that's typical as one ages though)

I'm also struck by the feedback he gives as a captain. He usually makes pretty detailed comments about the technical aspects of the dance, and sometimes, with the more thematic pieces, he'll just outline the story of it. He's pretty literal and straightforward in his thinking.

In any case, dd stands out among the captains for his emphasis on winning. The captains of the other teams cultivate a family atmosphere and often make an effort to emphasize having fun over winning (dd emphasizes fun...as long as his team is winning). The other captains will break down in tears when they have to eliminate dancers, and they'll give nothing but praise to the dancers.

DD is the prototypical "not here to make friends" competitor (though he does actually make friends). One of the most common comments dd gets from dancers or judges is that he works really hard and is a perfectionist with his technical performance. (As a fangirl, I love hearing other people remark on how impressive dd is. I'm all like, "Damn right, that's my bb!"). Dd has high expectations of himself and of the dancers in his team, and he'll criticize the dancers if he feels they fell short.

It's not mean-spirited but it is blunt and is something that the other captains don't do. DD will point out mistakes and be outspoken when he's disappointed with a performance. He also doesn't cry when he has to eliminate someone. He obviously doesn't like doing it, and I do think his style of doing it quickly without the anxiety of drawing it out is kinder. But it also fits in with his decisive, direct way of doing things.

I think about this all in connection with the bts of gg saying he prefers men without makeup. DD gets incredibly defensive, misconstruing what gg's saying as a slight against idols. It's a funny bts, because gg's clearly trying to pay dd a compliment, but dd doesn't even realize this because he's so caught up in defensiveness.

But the defensiveness tells us that dd's felt belittled and looked down on for his idol background, I think especially in some of his hobbies and other activities. Professional dancing, motorcycling racing, skateboarding. His being an idol has made people not take him seriously (I think that's what happened at the beginning of SDC3 when dd got the fewest towels of all the captains from the start).

I think that can be frustrating because dd's initial interest as a teen boy was dancing. I don't know all the decision-making that went into him going off to get trained by Yuehua as an idol, but doing so ironically made it harder for him to get respect from the professional dancers that he admires.

That's why dd works so damn hard, often to the point of overwork. He's demanding of his team just as he's demanding of himself. This is a guy who puts himself into the hospital with how much he works (and then forgets about it afterward). He's wearing himself out in trying to prove himself, and I'm glad that he recently actually took a day off when he was sick. GG's a good influence.

This all takes us to another DD moment, one that is more fun to watch, and that is dd's whole thing with the waacker, Xiao Bao. During a battle, Xiao Bao touches the back of dd's head, and dd immediately stands up and grabs Xiao Bao, keeping a hold of him even as he tries to dance away. Then there's some minor waacking and, um, lip-licking from dd.

When asked at hotpot, dd explains that he was trying to get Xiao Bao to run out his time by keeping a hold of him so he couldn't dance. By touching him, Xiao Bao had challenged dd and dd responded according to street dance rules. DD seems confused by others' confusion because it's self-explanatory to him.

It is just...so very dd to be so single-minded about a thing that he doesn't even realize how incredibly gay it looked. Just, immensely fantastically gay. (I'll get back to this in another post, but I'm focusing elsewhere here)

Honestly, he's sometimes come across as being on the spectrum, though that may well be me overidentifying with some traits. But he has his special interests and while he may be generally quiet, he will start happily rambling if asked about motorbikes or legos or skateboarding (or if plopped down next to gg). He's incredibly fidgety and has a weird thing with stroking tassels.

I know people on the spectrum are more often associated with sensitivity to lights and noise, but there is variation in that. Some folks tend towards the opposite and end up being thrill-seekers.

Some of his mannerisms and social interactions ping me as spectrum-y. During the "JC's fake butt" bts conversation with the rest of the cast, gg characterizes dd as the type to bluntly go up to JC and ask him about the fake butt. He's probably not wrong.

In the bts, dd also has several moments of not being properly romantic by gg's standards or of being a little mean to gg and then apologizing later. This may be more of a young man thing than a spectrum thing, though. IME, guys that age are more prone to that sort of thoughtless behavior than guys who are older.

In any case, dd's reputation as aloof is surface-deep, as seen when he's comfortable with people. He's able to joke and play around with others once he warms up to them. I know gg is often seen as uniquely able to soften dd up, and I do think dd is distinctly more affectionate/playful with gg. But it's a difference in degrees. DD also seems comfortable with the other DDU hosts, with his UNIQ brothers, sometimes with the other SDC captains (though not as often), with certain dancers (like Bouboo and Yang Kai).

Heck, Yang Kai even lampshades this in SDC S4. The captains are recruiting their team members and they send gifts to the dancers to woo them. Even though Yang Kai is a definite joiner on dd's team, dd sends him a framed photo of the two of them from Yang Kai's win the previous season. He also gifts Yang Kai a charm for his newborn son. Yang Kai is touched and he comments that he wouldn't expect these gifts from dd because dd just doesn't express his emotions like this usually. (I wonder if dd had some help in choosing the gifts, because all his gifts are incredibly thoughtful in a very uncharacteristic way (sorry, dd))

So, yeah, I have so many thoughts about how dd shows him feelings. I'm not super-attached to the autism spectrum thing, so don't take it too seriously. Hell, don't take any of this seriously. I've never met the guy. I'm just wildly extrapolating from translated glimpses of him.

[lyramundana]

Since @whatudowhennooneseesyou wants more and I’m a people pleaser, here’s another version, again based on another convo we had. 

This time is about my man, the icon, love of my life and the only person that makes me want to have children. His children only. My bias and the reason I got into Stray Kids. 

Christopher Bang

Now here’s the thing:

This man is a fuckboy. That much it’s obvious. Just look at his interactions with Stay and his messages on bubble. Not to mention he’s an aussie (and a former eshay) this men are the definition of “danger”, For fuck’s sake, his nickname among friends was “Mr Steal your girl”, which fits perfectly with a Libra’s description because that’s what they usually do: Stealing girls (and make anyone question their sexuality). 

Now there’s a wrongly extended misconception that fuckboys have to be “cold, sarcastic, too-cool-for-love type” type of dudes. That they go around wearing leather jackets, riding motorcycles and spend their days fucking everything that moves. But this isn’t it. A fuckboy is simply a man that gets off from being desired and having the people he wants at his mercy, specifically in bed. There’s not a settled manual of dressing and general behaviour to be one, the name says it all: A boy who fucks. Easy. 

Christopher it’s exactly that. He fools us with his good boy persona, acting all shy with pick-up lines but still fishing out for more. Showing off his muscles at every single opportunity he has (like that one concert where the members went to lift his shirt and he just let them, putting his hands behind his neck in surrender), but if you pay close attention, he doesn’t really hide his fuckboyish manners. I can’t explain it, but there’s something in his attitude, the way he speaks sometimes and acts, that screams “i make girls orgasm every week to relax”. 

“Does that mean I’m your daddy? MOvIng oN”

“You know what else is big?”

“Say please”

Do you need any more proof? I think not. Now back to my delulu intepretation of him:

Christopher is the type of bf that would feel that he must be the "caregiver" of the relationship. He's the one who leads, who provides, who looks after you. That's his role and you shouldn't ever take that away from him. You can take care of him for a change sometimes because he also needs some coddling and attention, but most of the time, he's in charge. I think raising his members by himself for so long has enhanced this side of him. He's very protective, very picky and a perfectionist, so his partner has to learn patience because this man can be mentally and emotionally exhausting for them.

In his toxic version, he's extremely controlling and possessive. He doesn't let you hang out with other boys, or anyone he doesn't approve of. He makes big decisions over your own life for you because "he knows what's best". He'll treat you more like an accessory that needs to look good on him rather than a person. In his mind, you belong to him and that's final. If gets hit on, he’ll accept it with zero regrets and may return the gesture. He’ll show it when he likes someone’s physically and may flirt with them, but you’re not allowed the same behaviour. He expects you to be always at his beck and call, but he’ll most likely never be completely loyal to you. Funny thing is that he truly believes he loves you and you should be grateful for all he does for you. He simply wants his partner to be the best version of themselves, and if that casually fits his standards of perfection, well, does it matter? Every single thing you do has to pass through him first. He’s the type to end fights with angry sex and call it “talking things out”. He’ll make sure you never move on from him. If you break up, he’ll be the ex that still calls you “his” and sabotages your love life. He’ll manipulate you to the point you’re totally dependant of him, his perfect delicate doll. Remember this guy is one perfectionist dude and he has very high standards, and as his partner, he expects you to meet at least some of them.

As a yandere, he’ll be pretty much the same, with the difference that he won’t look at anyone else and he’ll never be unfaithful. He’s a smooth motherfucker, and so he knows how to keep you with him subtitly without you noticing. He’ll isolate you from everyone else, planting seeds of suspicion in your mind and pushing you to overthink stuff and doubt everthing around you, becoming almost paranoid. He’ll deliberatly create situations than can be easily misunderstood so you come running to him for comfort, believing he was right all along, while he hugs you tightly and kisses your hair, smiling to himself at seeing you right where you’re supposed to be. He’ll use every dirty asshole trick during arguments to win. Gaslight, pulling out insecurities, emotional manipulation, everything. He’s mad at you for not behaving the way he wants to but he doesn’t want you to leave him either.  He’ll start fight with you with the twisted purpose of getting you to be vulnerable and having the excuse to put you in your place. He does everything for you and gets angry if you try to do stuff for him. Your autonomy is taken away and you can’t leave him. Ever. He has a way to make you feel so loved, so cared for, so desirable, that you won’t notice the darkness closing around you until it’s too late. 

As a normal person, he’s also territorial, but in a relatively healthy way. His caregiver complex is still off the roof tho. He feels like it's his duty (and also his joy) to take care of you and make sure you're content. This man, when he loves, he does wholeheartedly. He worships the ground you walk on, he sees you as a heaven sent angel just for him, he adores you and would give you the world if he could. He hates when you go to other people for comfort or advice, because in his eyes, who's gonna help you better than him? He lives off feeling needed, of having you rely on him. He doesn't let it get to the toxic point because he's mature like that, but there are times that he wishes he could hide you from the world and keep you to himself. If he's in a bad mood, the members know they only have to bring you where he is and suddenly it's all good. The bad mood might not always wear off, but at least he wouldn't snap at anyone if you're there.

He gets shy with other people's compliments, but with you? He pulls out the fuckboy manual. He loves to make you blush, push your body against him and whisper the most indecently, spiciest pick-up linea. Those wicked pick-up lines he's not allowed to use with Stay? You've heard all of them. His incessant need for control purrs when he has you all flustered and nervous under his hands, submitting for him. We treat it as a running joke but I truly believe this man is an Alpha in an alternative universe.

The type of bf to assert his claim over you by physical contact. Throwing an arm around your shoulders, grabbing you by the waist, pushing his hand in your lower back to guide you. He makes sure you're never far from him when you guys are out. Another dude staring at you too much? He moves right by your side or behind you to send him a message. He's another one that loves seeing you wearing his stuff. The type to place his coat/jacket on your legs or shoulders, not only to keep you warm, but also to mark you even further as his person.

Honestly most of your fights are because of his jealousy, because when it comes to other problems, he talks it out like a champ and communicates his feelings. The only thing that makes his blood boil is the idea of losing you, especially to someone else. He can't stand people getting close to what he considers his. Like I said, an Alpha.

If I don't stop here this post will never end. Feel free anyone to add your own opinion about the matter.

[canonfeminine]

　　⚔ MY LITTLE WARRIOR

🦉 . . . Annabeth Chase x Black! daughter of Athena reader (not really implied tho)

in which: At first, you thought Annabeth didn't like you. Turns out she's just really hard to read.

authors note: this is for my pookie @chqsing-annabcth because she asked me so nicely to make her a annie fic!! also I think I'm a little obsessed with making platonic fics now. 🤭 literally about to become a whole series atp.

warnings: mentions of a nose bleed like two times & Annabeth being impressed older sister (ik, crazy.)

Being a child of Athena was probably one the the most exciting things to ever happen to you.

Ever since you were a kid, you've been at the top of your class. Mostly because your dad was a book and math nerd, but because you wanted to make him proud. You hated when you couldn't understand something, or you couldn't answer something that seemed so simple. You were a perfectionist, and it was something you loved and hated about yourself.

So, when you were claimed after winning you first Capture The Flag (downright, the coolest way to get claimed,) you bet that you were happy. Now you had a reason to act the way you did. The Athena kids were happy, you were happy, it was a win-win.

Expect for, what it seemed to be, Annabeth.

and yes, I'm talking about Annabeth Chase. Blonde haired, Grey eyed, Counselor of the Athena cabin and Hero of Olympus—didn't seem to want a new camper in her cabin. Which at first, it hurt your feelings. Was it too much to ask for some love? but after thinking about it, why care? sometimes people aren't going to like you, and that's okay.

But deep, deep down, you knew that it was more than that. It was bad enough that you were a perfectionist, but a people pleaser too?

You try not to think about the possibility of that being a thing. By doing what you might ask? sword fighting. It gave you a reason to fight the Ares kids (who always has something to say about how you looked,) and forget about your issues.

But currently, you were getting your butt handed to you by an Ares kid. Originally, you were supposed to be sparring with a whole different camper, but they ended up backing out.

The older camper held the sword to your neck. "What are you going to do now, hm?" He mused. "not like I expect you of all people to be able to beat me anyways."

"What in Hades is that supposed to mean?" You clapped back, your curls falling in front of your face. "implying that I can't fight?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

Your eyes narrowed. "Do you ever shut up?" you asked. You knew what he would say, but starting an dumb argument would give you more time to think.

"Nah, I like to talk—" Before he could finish, you grabbed his arm, twisted it so his sword fell, and caught it. "Now, next question: do you give up or are you going to keep on getting tricked?" You asked, wiping your bloody nose with your free hand.

"like I'd ever let an Athena's kid beat me.." He started, but quickly stopped when he looked over.

There stood a not-so-happy (and a slightly impressed) Annabeth. She had her arms crossed and she was staring daggers at the Ares kid.

"Actually, you know what? I give up. Take your win or whatever." He said quickly. You moved his sword from his neck and dropped it.

"Well that was quick, guess it's just another point for me-" You looked to the side and saw Annabeth. "Holy sh—I mean, hey Annabeth." You said as you took off your helm and held it.

"You know, the strategy you just used was a pretty good one." She said as she walked up to you.

"Really? you think so?" you asked in a surprised tone. She bent down to your level and placed a hand on your cheek. "Yeah, I do." She smiled, running her fingers over the cuts on your face. "Does it hurt when I do that?"

"Not really." You shrugged, leaning into her touch.

"Good. I don't wanna hurt my little warrior. " She took her hand off your cheek. "Anyways, I'm bring you to the infirmary. I'm pretty sure you should be a lot more tired than you are currently." Before you could say anything in protest, she picked you up and threw you over her shoulder.

"Hey! I did not agree to this!" you said in-between giggles. Who knew that Annabeth had a soft side, am I right?

[icantdance]

(get to know me tag)

lets goooo

1. Are you named after anyone? Funnily enough, on my father's side, we had this tradition where all our initials are identical. But no, I wasn't named after anyone in particular.

2. When was the last time you cried? It's been a while tbh. Think it was a month or two back? Life be hittin sometimes.

3. Do you have kids? No I don't and I never really planned on it.

4. What sports do you/have you played? I used to stay after school and play basketball with my friends but I was so bad. I did do Muay Thai as well but only for a short while and I'd love to get back into that.

5. Do you use sarcasm? Oh most definitely. Love sarcasm.

6. What's the first thing you notice about somebody? Energy, energy, energy.

7. Eye color? A very dark brown.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings for sure. I really like neutral endings too.

9. Any talents? I'd say my creativity. I pour a lot out and love to express myself through EVERYTHING. Safe to say I'm kind of a perfectionist because of it.

10. Where were you born? Good ol' Virginia, USA.

11. Hobbies? Words, music, art, that kind of thing. There's a guy on youtube named ghowste who makes the best beats to freestyle to.

12. Any pets? Not anymore. Never had my own pet, just pets that were always passed down to me because their owner didn't want them anymore.

13. Height? I'm 5'7ish.

14. Favorite subject? English. Psychology was fun too.

15. Dream job? Honestly this changes for me a lot. I really wanted to be a Banquet Chef at the Smithsonian in DC but I gave up my cooking career. I did make it to the Fine Arts Museum here in Virginia before I quit which was amazing. If I had to pick a new one though it'd probably have something to do with communication and therapy. I'm bad as hell at communicating but I've been told I give great advice.

Thank you for tagging me @ivaspinoza. It was fun :)

I don't know many tumblr folks so I'm just tagging a few accounts I saw in my notifs, no pressure ofc

@toxifoxx @fuuuckimhi @skimbradsteen @zelphafrost @yakultstan @babalobobo @real-dooozy

[maeshelix]

I hope this isn't rude or offensive to ask, but how many of you are there? And what're your names? :3

Anon. My dear friend.

Not only is this not rude at all, but we've been looking for the perfect excuse to make a little introduction post about us since we found out we were we!!!

At least, I have lmao. And you just gave me that excuse right now let's goooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉

So!!! At the moment, there's about 10 of us, possibly 12??? Not sure yet, I'll let one of them edit this if I'm wrong and they exist lmao. But for now just operate on there being 10 peeps in here!!!

(Edit: It is actually twelve. Hello. I think I'll let Rokoko handle edits to the list proper though. She seems to enjoy that immensely-❤️)

(She seems to enjoy most things immensely lmao-💙)

More after the break (^-^)

First up on the list is meeeeeeeeee :3c Rokoko is the name and fun is my favorite game!!! I'm the resident clown-bot-girl of this particular system, a certified Delight here to spread joy and positivity in whatever ways I can!!! Usually through jokes!!! Though mostly because our body couldn't do half the shit I can do internally if we tried and also all of our friends are in completely different states and countries so we couldn't even hug or dance with any of them if I wanted to. And goodness knows I want to!!!

Next up is Salem!!!!!! My best buddy Salem!!!!!! She's basically the polar opposite to me lmao. She's a Protector who's perpetually tired and bitter cause the world kinda sorta sucks alot lmao. She's super sweet and kind if you get on her good side though!!! Which is harder then you think to get on but easier then you'd think!!! She's also a big tough werewolf girl who wants to look both cute and badass!!! Like a big metal spike wrapped in cute red ribbon ^_^

Next, there's Zero!!! She's a super cute robot girl like me!!! Except she's not really into the whole having emotions thing like I am. Like, she still has them (can't really completely avoid those while stuck in a human body after all) but she'd really prefer if she didn't, and she's told me that herself!!! Nonetheless, she's a logical and loyal little perfectionist AI who loves us just as much as we love her 💝💝💝. We're not really sure what her role within the system is (and honestly we don't really sweat it when it comes to roles in the system. Some of us know it instinctively but others don't and that's honestly fine!!!) But we know she's really witty and really smart!!! When she wants to be. She's also kind lazy, heehee :p

There's Daisy, who's a total sweetheart honestly. So much so that she's usually kinda sad and scared of the world around us which, fair lmao. She's a teeny tiny plant girl who just wants to be happy and loved and who's willing to help out in whatever ways she can. She's also adorable and again, soso sweet omgggggg you have no idea!!!

Marking the midway point of this list is Freesia!!! The suave moth demoness of our little family!!! She's an incredibly kind and loving woman who would probably help you move houses if you asked her to. I think she's a Caretaker??? Again, we don't really sweat labels here but it definitely fits with her in my opinion!!! She doesn't really come out often though, which sucks!!! @our brain, let the gal out every now and then she deserves time to herself!!!

Sleepy is next and we know basically nothing about her!!! Mostly because she rarely comes out, at least lately. Despite that though, we know that she's a big ol' goofball who says the most random shit sometimes and honestly, i love that aboit her (^ー^). Also fun fact!!! She's actually the one who originally tipped us off to being us in the first place!!! In that she was the first one to notice that she was different from whoever was in front at first one day and went "huh. Damn that's weird bro." I think she also miiiight controls when we feel especially ready to sleep (hence her name!!! I think. It could also be that she's just really really tired most the time, I honestly dunno!!!) so that's cool!!!

Next up, in no particular order, is Miranda!!! And next to Sleepy we probably know the least about her, except that she formed after a point in time where we played nothing but Elden Ring for like a month, after a particularly stressful point in our life!!! As such, she speaks like a fusion of Melina and Ranni and kinda looks like one too!!! With four arms and everything!!! She's really into fantasy media, and I'm sure she's gonna have a ball whenever we get around to playing Baldur's Gate 3 (let's be honest girls, it's an inevitability at this point, we just gotta pick the time lmao).

Heading up the rearguard is Hana!!! She's a super chill grill with attitude( ￣▽￣). Almost as much of a jokester as me, she's just focused on relaxing and hanging out. She's a kinda fictive??? It's complicated, and not for public speculation!!! All you need to know is that she's got multiple wings like an angel and is super into DOOM!!! She's the best I love her o(^o^)o

If you're looking for a definitive fictive, then F.E. is the girl for you!!! I don't think she wants me to tell you what she's a fictive of, so I won't say her full name, but like. She's not really subtle about it let's be honest lmao. She's the one who usually comes to front and takes care of our body whenever our brain is just far too exhausted (emotionally or otherwise) for any of us to use it!!! Or whenever we're on painkillers. Either or lmao. We actually thought she was also Zero for the longest time since they both kinda have a similar "emotionless perfect being" thing going on, though eventually F.E. found out she's definitely different from Zero and here we are now!!! She's a nice and steadfast gal with a little bit of a mischievous streak and she's also our latest split!!! I love her (^.^)

Last, but certainly not least, probably, is our girl Silver!!! Unlike F.E., Silver's pretty open about what her source is, that being Silver the Hedgehog!!! And I'd say she act an awful lot like the OG telepath too!!! If just a liiiiittle more nervous and anxious. She's an optimist, but she's also a realist, and she never fails to have hope for the future!!! In spite of the evidence to the contrary lmao. She also thinks she's been here the longest too!!! Here being our brain of course. Which I believe!!! Makes sense that we'd have a Silver fictive as a kid lmao.

And that's the list so far!!! We'll probably just edit and re-edit this list whenever something new happens in here so keep an eye out for that!!! And of you can't then don't worry, cause I'm pinning this to the top of our silly little blog lmao.

Again, thank you for the ask anon!!! And I hope you enjoy my answer as much as I did writing it!!!

[thinkpink212]

♡ Taking Myself There - Week 2 ♡

— Life has shown itself to be about learning & moving, so let’s learn and move

Summery This week was def something else; I didn't do much but work work work, and when I wasn't working I spend my time taking care, reading, making nice meals and easing myself back into stretching daily. Next week has a mixture of busy and free time, and with my courses pick back up meaning I need to get back on my fixed routine or I will find myself falling back faster then I should! But despite that, I had a pretty good week with lots of realizations! And I am sure next week will be great too!

This week I was very grateful for...

♡ The distance I created between my parent and I, because the absence truly strengthened our bond.

♡ My creativity and my ability to have so much fun whenever I tap into it!

♡ Getting back into audiobooks after having to pause my subscription due to financial issues. I have missed escaping into these little worlds! They have me smiling all day long!

♡ My strengthening ability to walk away! It has saved me from a lot of mess!

♡ My ability to take care of myself even when things are moving faster and I am tired!

Highlights - The best parts of the week where five moments... ♡

♡ Getting back in touch with old friends, and reminding myself friendship is a two way street! Life’s hectic and sometimes time will pass with some radio silence, but I remind myself that the right people always find their way back (and I find my way back to them) Now I have plans made and I’m exited to see my girlies!

♡ My roomates mom! She taught me how to bake very simple bread, and it is all I have had for the past few days! They are delicious, fun and easy to make, cheaper then buying bred and filling!

♡ Cool interactions with guests at my work, as well as coworkers who have just made me laugh loads!

♡ My art spark is back and I am very exited to create more in the month of august!

What's next With the upcoming week, I would like to spend more time writing - I always say this and then I write 2-3 times in a week for hours and nothing else, but I know once I start ill not stop till I am satisfied, so I must simply start! But it’s easier said then done, but I’ll get it done this time around!

I also had a realization that I am truly a stereotype of my zodiac modality! As a Cancer (Cardinal sign) I am a starter, a leader, a creator but I lack the 'execution' kick that can occur at times but doesn't last long, unless it can be done now and here. With patience, journaling and more inner work, I also find myself not thriving well when I try to pace myself, over-plan and such (SN Pisces / NN Virgo), and so, I need a balance that allows that quick, fun and focused energy that just shoots me from point to point, with enough discipline and planning to continue w/o burnout or distraction. Ex. I’ll now be writing my book(s) whole. No more writing one chapter and editing, because the perfectionist side will keep at it and I don’t have the attention span or patience (or enough story) for it to be what I need it to be. So now I she’ll write, and edit/retouch when it is a whole story.

Another realization is overcoming this urge to always start over and start something new. Ex. I found myself wanting to start a whole new art page just to post art that I can just post on here, but I didn't want to ruin my feed, or be persevere or have this be associated directly with my art... and it made me disappointed (in my thoughts) that I think my art would ruin anything. It’s rude @ myself, but hey it’s how I feel somewhere deep. I love my art but I definitely have a very wide variety/non-consistant art style — I love it, but it doesn’t always fit each-other. But hey, that’s a part of where I am trying to go (being perceived, judged and so on). I’ll have to work on accepting my creations for what they are, put less pressure on myself and simply go where I am taken. And now, I would like to take this page to a new level so stay tuned.

I will eventually become the person I need to be, because where I am going I have to become her. I have much more to learn and much more to do (and not just say I’ll do tihi) but it is coming, and so far I am very proud of where I have taken myself! Change is scary but I am tired of letting fear win when I know that the ending is in my favor!

Wishing you all a beautiful Sunday & Happy Week Ahead 🩷

[soot-and-salt]

I would like to ask about 4. and 17., please! 🤗

Aw hell yeah, let's go

4. a story idea you haven't written yet

Where Hazbin is concerned, hoo boy, have I got some things percolating, my friend. I'm definitely going to do SOMETHING for kink week in June, probably a grab bag of prompts (praise kink for sure), and I'm definitely thinking it'll be radiostatic. I also have a few ideas for the gothic radioapple series (one fic with a drunken confession Lucifer doesn't remember and another that I'm rotating again in my head about Lucifer's depression and how that affects his relationship with Alastor).

I want to return back to humor too, there's been too much maudlin stuff lately, so a VERY funny fic featuring Alastor and Valentino forced to work together is on the horizon. I'm 1k words into it. It's gonna happen, I swear. They're idiots, your honor. I don't know why I love writing Val, he's terrible, but his voice is so much fun.

It's funny, I used to write almost exclusively AUs in another fandom, and I loved doing it, but I can't think of a single one for Hazbin. Being in Hell, being demons and having that background is so essential to the characters. I'm in awe of the authors who can write human Alastor AUs. Wish that were me. Skill issue on my part.

17. talk about your writing and editing process

Okay, so, here's the thing. Are you ready for my shameful secret?

I write directly into the AO3 text box. I leave WIPs as drafts.

Yes, it is the most INSANE WAY POSSIBLE to write. I am incredibly sorry about it.

Listen. I've written professionally before, for actual human currency, both fiction and nonfiction. Writing in Google docs gives me so much anxiety now because of it. It's such a dumb problem to have and I want to try to get over it and write in Google docs like a normal person again. But writing IN AO3 is weirdly more freeing? I sort of stop myself from some of my old perfectionist habits and I can be more loose with what I'm doing. Seeing that site is like a signal to my brain that it's just for fun and I can do whatever the hell I want. I don't know how to explain it.

My day job is a stressful mess so I usually only get to write on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and weekends. I don't like to listen to music as I write, or at least not music with lyrics. Lyrics are important to me though, my very long work commute (over an hour each way) provides me with ample time to daydream to music and sometimes I'll hear a lyric and boom an entire fic is suddenly in my head.

Editing is something I currently actually do for human currency as a side hustle so when I edit my own work I'm just trying to focus on spelling/grammar and flow. I'll read out loud what I wrote at least once so I can make sure it has a proper cadence, especially dialogue. If they're characters with accents or a certain way of speaking I'll try to verbally mirror that to make sure they sound in character. So please, by all means, imagine me at like 10pm putting on my very best trans-Atlantic to make sure my Alastor sounds okay.

My main writing issue is I have both crippling anxiety and un-medicated ADHD so any words I get down are often a struggle and some writing nights are spent staring at a wall while I fall apart inside. My best writing nights are ones where I've spent the entire day drinking caffeine (like eight or nine cups of black tea so strong you could stand a spoon up in it) and my brain achieves like 45% of what a normal brain can do. So, you know, things are really going well for me. This is a very normal way to live.

So, uh, yeah, in conclusion, please read my fanfiction, I swear to god I'm pretty good at it. And ask me more questions so I can give you more horrifying answers.

[fauvester]

ok, so. Since your adoption AU has quickly become my no. 1 new obsession, I would totally love to make some fanart or write some fanfic about it. Would you be okay with that?

If not, that’s totally fine! If yes, I’d really like for you to ramble to me about these questions I have (if you have time) because if I make fanart/fanfic I want it to be 100% accurate, because I’m a perfectionist. So, correct me if I’m wrong pls:

Elim “Lim” Junior likes to cook, was the first to get adopted, and is the oldest brother. He seems to me to be a calm kinda guy. Gives me safe vibes, like I would let him bear hug me. What does he do, I wonder? Like, for a living? Or what does he want to do when he’s older? Idan is the youngest, absolute cutie, I adore him. What does he want to do when he grows up? And what are his hobbies? Iskra is Garak’s little girl, except she’s not even that little and also she marries a Klingon doctor, am I right? Is she the one who tries out tailoring, do I remember that correctly? What does she do for a living? Or is she actually a professional tailor?? Then, there’s Jocasta. She’s older than Iskra, right? She’s a nurse. Does she work with Julian sometimes? What else does she like to do in her free time?

Yes, I’m interrogating you, yes I want to get to know them, I’m sorry if this is too many questions at once. Don’t feel obligated to answer all of this. Hope you have a great day! :)

Oh man I'd be so flattered!! come on into the sandbox!! I'm so chuffed that you like them as much as I do! Let me try to put stuff down that I've been carrying around in my head re: the kids -

Young Elim ("Lim" "Elim Garak, no relation") is of a very calvinist cut (always busy, always doing something useful, always sober, always parsimonious). Repairs, cooking, cleaning. Inclined to be grumpy. Phenomenally stubborn. Probably a good hugger but on the stiff side. Remembers the most about his family before the Fire, and for decades his grief manifested as anger and the most convenient subject for that anger was the Manifestation of the Old Cardassia, Garak senior. They had a contentious relationship with him until Lim got into his twenties and mellowed out a bit, but they had some bitterly cold grudge matches before then (Garak, beefing with a child? MUCH more likely than you'd think!)

He's a full time housekeeper, first for his Castellan father (he's the cardassian jackie kennedy. refurbishing the Castellan's home, overseeing the rest of the help, hosting events, etc) and then for his mayor wife (and their many future children). Nobody would suggest that it's an unmanly line of work, but they may privately think it. Lim was never a particular stand-out at school and decided to let Iskra be the ambitious one.

His wife is a lot. She REALLY wanted to marry into the Garak family for political cache and set her cap on him but he was NOT having it at first. She had to do a lot of courting. They get along just fine now. Iskra doesn't like her but maybe that's because they're too similar.

Idan is IN STARFLEET! The first Cardassian, and Cardassia isn't even part of the federation! By the time he was growing up, Bashir's disillusionment with the Federation softened enough to weave lots of tempting tales of adventure and discovery for his youngest.

Worf is his idol (first Klingon solidarity!) but where Worf recognized the "you have to decide whether to be liked or be respected" decision and decided to be respected at the expense of coming off as an unpleasant terminally humorless zealot, while Idan plays up his natural goofiness to keep his classmates from feeling threatened by their 6'4 appropriately strong, fast Obsidian Order/Starfleet Medical raised Scion of Cardassia classmate. He's actually very capable and very dangerous when he isn't pretending to be an idiot (or more of one than he really is, at least). Just wants to be liked. Kind of a jock, plays racquetball and does vulcan martial arts. Enjoys Romulan pop (rpop) like every other young Cardassian.

Has a tail. Accidentally trips people sometimes.

Iskra is for real that little. She's very short.

She gets along best with Garak, at least until Lim grows up-up. She was taught from a young age to memorize, recite and debate at length, and naturally did well in academics. She goes to some Federation planet (Andor?) to study comparative law, and then back to Cardassia to read Cardassian law as an apprentice. Through a combination of bald nepotism, personal charisma and actual merit, she snags a position as the attachè of Ambassador Lang to the Federation, where she spends a few years advancing her father's administration's diplomatic interests. Once he steps down and Lang takes his place she ends up... somehow... on a Starfleet mission......?...... and meets her eventual wife! She serves... some diplomatic purpose. Besides amusing herself. I just haven't decided what that would be yet.

Jocasta (oh sweet babbygirl I have not developed you much at all lol) gets along best with Julian because he does enough talking for both of them. She started out helping him with office work in the hospital, but she's the sort of person who Does Work when it Needs to be Done and took enough tasks onto herself that she's become indispensable. Bashir taught her what she needs to know about nursing, and she helps him with the cultural missteps he occasionally still makes. She's the last line of defense if someone's a particularly hard stick because she can throw a needle under tough scales like it's nothing (she could have been a good Obsidian Order torturer).

She would have been the Housekeeper of the family if not for Lim, so she does the decorative stuff that he doesn't - mending and eventually sewing, gardening, even a little art. It reminds Garak a little too much of Ziyal sometimes, but that's a kind of gift, too.

ANYWAYS THATS THE KIDDOOOOOOOOOS! I have a lot of stuff thrown in the #garashir adoption au tag if you're looking about for other tasty bits, it is all approximately Fauve-canon but feel free to play in this space however you like.. I love to talk about them! I'd be so tickled if you wanted to do something with them.

[gaviicreates]

FO: Berkshire Throw (Knit)

Pattern: Berkshire Throw by Whistle and Wool (Angie Bivins), available as a knit kit through Lion Brand

Yarn: Lion Brand Basic Stitch Anti-Pilling (100% Acrylic), Worsted in colorways - Stonewash, Ecru, Deep Denim, and Frost

Tools: ChiaoGoo circulars - size 8 (5mm)

When I first started to learn knitting, I worked up a long scarf in garter stitch. Meanwhile, I'd also started to do some swatches in stockinette, and I knew my next intentional project I wanted to be the next step in switching between knits and purls. I wanted it to be a pattern pdf so I could start learning how to read one. And I wanted it to be something I could stick with for a while, so I could get plenty of practice in.

I generally don't craft a lot of throws or blankets as a standard, since a blanket is a commitment. Especially when I already know in the end it's going to belong to my fur children. Except, I've totally been drawn to them lately! So this knit kit, when I happened to find it, started checking all my boxes. I just loved the texture on both sides.

I did not gauge swatch. The pattern provided one, as all good patterns should. But I didn't have all the tools yet to try going up and down a needle size if it didn't match. Rather than deal with that stress (and potential additional cost), I just used what I had on hand since it was not a garment where size mattered. Would it cover my lap? That's the main thing I focused on.

I lost track of where I was a number of times and I struggled with which was the right side (RS) and which was the wrong side (WO), so some of my color stripes are different from others. Sometimes the garter section started sooner than other times. But I turned my perfectionist off and figured "eh, I'm learning. It's going to keep me warm, and that's what matters. So let's keep going." This was fine until I made what felt like my first critical error:

I had one more garter row than I was supposed to, and it was incredibly distracting and noticeable. I couldn't let this one go, so I suffered my first panic of having to frog in knitting. I would like to never have to do that again! I have a new appreciation for when I have to do it with my crochet. But I did do it! I took the blanket back stitch-by-stitch, and in the process I learned about what makes up the stitches in a whole new way. I looked up which direction the stitches were supposed to be in the needle so nothing got twisted, and I started being able to recognize the parts that were the purls and which parts were the knits.

Aesthetically, I chose not to add tassels, as that's just asking for the dogs to mistake it as chew toy. My color palette was inspired by the neutrals that made up the original knit kit, just instead of browns, I selected colors that matched our living space. I've always found blues to be calming and comforting, and I think it's truly found its home draped across the back of my grey crafting recliner.

As far as blocking, since it's made from acrylic I threw it in the washer and dryer according to the label directions and that softened up the stitches.

Overall, I am incredibly pleased with how this turned out. I know technically it's not because of the scarf I made, but it kind of feels like my first knit project. It was the first of a lot of things, and for that reason it's incredibly special.