#but I did at least have to keep the name similar in some regard but still different

[poisonouspastels]

We doing some character exploration for the AU tonight babes

[matan4il]

911 ep 704 first watch reactions

IDK if anyone else will talk about this, but Josh and Maddie were a great comedic start to this ep! XD Also. Interesting choice to give Josh, the currently only openly gay male character on the show, more lines again. Is it a reminder he's there, so he can be a part of Buck's journey later on? *eyes emoji* We'll see.

All of these pretty women (I should also mention that as a non-American, all the gasped, "It's Joey!" "It's you!" "It's me!" are missing me by a kilometer. Whoever Joey is, he's not Madonna yet, if you want me to get excited about him, 911, you're gonna have to give me a bit more than a single name), hitting on Buck and Eddie, and the ease with which both men turn them down... Sure, this is a part of the set up regarding Buck, and Eddie technically has an excuse, but also. Most straight, taken men would at least be tempted. They'd at least bite their lips with frustration. Have some reaction. But not Eddie. And when you remember that he was distinctly not taken in ep 204, but still had the same reaction to pretty young women hitting on him and Buck... I know this ep is all about celebrating the 'oh' moment of another guy, but that's not gonna stop me from rooting for Eddie to have similar realizations eventually (and get together with that certain other guy *cough*).

LMAO So, Buck is meeting up with the guy who's gonna be his sexual awakening, a man who's good looking, gave him a thrill already, is an impressive fighter pilot, and the first thing he can think of to say, is blurt out Eddie's name? LMAO Oh, this boy really is down bad...

Man, that bit where Tommy tells Buck he can have it both ways, he can get certified and continue to serve with the 118. Thanks for the beautiful foreshadowing, 911. Buck saying he's keeping his options fluid... Holy shit, the show really wasn't holding any punches back.

OMG, why is Harry old enough to be making Bathena waffles (and then turn out to be involved in an altercation)? I swear, he was still on baby formula just a second ago. How did 7 seasons just fly by!?

Buck getting jealous over Eddie and Tommy sparring. Considering the fact that Buck was the one getting all hot and bothered over semi-naked Eddie in the gym in 201, and ready to jump into a boxing match with him, this is making me wanna punch a wall myself. The symbolism in this ep is NOT very veiled. Add to that Eddie mentioning how he and Tommy met and just... clicked. In the same conversation that reminds us of Buddie' in 201's first meeting, where they clicked? (even though they were both too dumb to realize in what way) 911, just let me catch my breath for a second challenge! Also, Eddie is dating Tommy more intensely than he is Marisol? Okay. Duly noted. These firefighters are both so freaking hetero, I'm sure that's exactly what every casual viewer was telling themselves at this point. And poor Buck, getting his hopes up that Eddie is asking him when he's free, so they can go on a date themselves, only to be let down. Poor baby boy. But this feels like it's spelling out the answer to whether Buck's jealous over Tommy or Eddie. So, yay for Tommy helping him with his bi awakening. But it's clear who's really occupying Buck's heart and mind, and whose time he wants. FOR SIX FREAKING SEASONS NOW.

Oh, it's continuing, the show really is trying to kill me, having Buck complain to Maddie about how often Eddie has been seeing Tommy. The annoyance with how cool Tommy is, that's exactly Buck's reaction to Eddie in 201. So, if Buck and Tommy will then kiss, what does that say about what Buck didn't even realize he wanted to happen with Eddie back then, hmmm? I also love that Buck wants to be the cooler "dad's friend" in Christopher's eyes. That's his son, you can't take that away from him. And of course, Maddie was his first confidante about his feels for Eddie, she was the first one to call out his boy crush (in 204) and to hear Buck automatically think about Eddie, when he hears, "He's cute!" (in 206). It's so freaking right that she is now the witness to Buck's bi jealousy meltdown. I love her calling him out on it. "Is it circled with a heart around it?" Honestly, this is better than front row seats at the Bachelor mansion. I'm just disappointed in Chimney and his imaginary popcorn that he doesn't get to witness all of this firsthand and get what it means. Letting down all Bachelor fans out there, Chim. -_-

And then Buck's back in the gym, staring at Eddie, feathers ruffled. Am I going to make it to the end of this ep? Who cares? This is fantastic! XD He tries to catch Eddie's attention with the little weightlifting without a spotter stunt, and it's specifically him. Chim turned out to also be impressed by how cool Tommy is, but Buck is circling Eddie, like a clueless Jane Austen heroine, about to become a hit teen romance movie. Ravi falling for Buck's weightlifting attention trap is just getting in the way. Chim asking about Buck's weird basketball hugging session is nothing but a way to get to the ball game with Eddie. Okay, I'm at the point where I need to be chewing on imaginary popcorn.

Athena is one of the strongest characters on television, ever. Precisely because she's not just tough when she has to be, she has a heart, too. The scene where she told the woman she accidentally killed her own son was hard to just watch. IDK how she actually did that. I'm not sure if viewers who aren't moms get it, 'coz I didn't until I went with my sister through her pregnancy. Motherhood changes you forever. You feel your kid moving inside you. You bond with them in the most intimate way possible before they're even born. You go on a wild journey with them after, where every second counts, let alone every hour and every day, when they're hungry, when they're cold, when they struggle to sleep, when they finally do, when they take their first step, when they fail and fall... The love and protectiveness are something different to anything else in life. IDK how Athena, who gets all of this, managed to break the news to this mother, that she had unknowingly killed her own kid. I think to me, this has to be the most devastating scene in the entire history of the show. IDK if I'll be able to watch it again.

When basketball game scene starts, and Chimney knows something's up, I was already chuckling. But then Eddie sees them, and the first thing isn't expressing joy that his best friend is there, it's asking how did Chim talk him into this. "He always says no to me." They BOTH always talk about each other in romantic coded language, it's not just Buck, and in the same ep where we get bi Buck confirmed, that makes me froth at the mouth...

"So I'm your basketball beard. I feel so bonded." Not Chimney calling Buck out, while using the term for closeted gay guys using someone as a cover. I AM SCREAMING. Thank you, 911 gods!

That montage with Eddie and Tommy high fiving each other right in front of Buck's salad face, while their muscles glisten in the sun, and Top Gun-like music plays in the background, like the biggest nod to the volleyball scene from that gayest movie ever made, which we already had Buddie paraphrasing in 201. I am fine, this is fine. I love this burning kitchen I'm sitting in.

Buck causing Eddie's injury because of his jealousy (which again, is not about Tommy. He made an impression on Chim as well, who was screaming, "Buck, I'm open! I'm OPEN!") and not even getting to offer some help, because Tommy's already on it... I hope ABC is happy with their viewership dropping next week, because they've killed every Buddie shipper in the fandom.

"Well, I'm not a 14 year old girl..." Both Buck and Maddie together: "So stop acting like one." Love this scene, love these siblings, love that the reference with the two blonde Sarahs sounds platonic, but it's also from a past season on the Bachelor. 911 really wants you to know this is romantic, and Buck's going through a late sexual awakening in his 30's, instead of in his teens, even before he's able to see it.

So, the conclusion to Buck and Maddie's convo is that he needs to talk to Eddie, to make it better, yet the person he ends up talking to is Tommy, and that leads to the bi awakening kiss... It's a classic rom com switch, we hear a knock at the door, we expect it to be THE love interest, showing up at the right time, and it's someone else, making the protagonist's romantic journey so close, but about to get longer. It's further emphasized by a shot over Tommy's shoulder, in a way that he can easily be confused for Eddie, and which is reminiscent of moment when we saw Buck standing at Eddie's door, or both of them there toegther.

It was a nice talk, I loved Tommy saying he can't replace Buck, I def noticed how he went to talk about it in the context of Chris instead of Eddie (hmmm... I wonder why), but my fave part was how Buck glowed when he heard his son doesn't shut up about him. ^u^ He even took a second to look away from Tommy, to take it in with a huge grin. Then Buck and Tommy start warming up to each other, moving towards flirtation, and what comes out of Buck's mouth? "You don't have to tell me how great Eddie is." That's not how you flirt with a guy, Buck. I liked Tommy kissing him, and Buck not recoiling. Like he's always known on some level, but could never do anything about it. "That's better than fake mouth static." LOL The stuff that great romance is made of.

I'm SO happy Buck is getting this storyline of realization he's bi, I've thought it would be important and that the show has laid some groundwork for it since 107, and I don't mind that Tommy is the "romantic other" who helps him with it. I do believe this is important bi representation in and of itself, away from Buddie, and if nothing else ever comes of it, this is still beyond wonderful. In 2024, we still barely have any characters who start out presumed straight, and are allowed the freedom to figure out that maybe their sexual orientation is different than what they thought, despite the fact that in reality, human sexuality is complex and confusing and a mess. So this really matters to me, as a human being, and as a queer person. That said, I can't ignore the past 5 seasons, and the way this storyline played out, with Tommy kissing Buck, but the whole thing being emotionally centered around Buck's feelings for Eddie, it means that whether they go canon or not (and at this point, I find it hard to believe they'd make Buck canonically bi, taking this HUGE risk of homophobic backlash, and not go there with him and Eddie, but just in case they don't, I wanna say this), it'll always be Buddie for me.

Thank you for reading! If you're looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox

[the-final-sif]

Some updates regarding the Dream situation on twitter, in effort to keep people on here informed.

The accuser in question, Amanda, went on a bit of a spree of activity on twitter and tik tok. This included a lot of very ill advised things including doxxing herself, tweeting at Keemstar to cover the situation (later retracted after I think she was told that Keemstar was not someone she wanted to get involved), and making a lot of tweets that brought up some more questions about what her claims specifically were and what evidence she had. An account that she confirmed to be her BF showed up and provided some further information that has made some of the prior claims confusing.

Finally, it seemed that someone offered her good advice. She stated that she didn't have any physical evidence of what took place, and that she was going to the police/to consult a lawyer about what to do. She's been largely silent on twitter since that occurred, her tik tok has deactivated, although it is unclear if she took it down or if it got mass reported or something. Her boyfriend's account on twitter has also deactivated.

In looking through her prior tik toks, someone found a previous video she posted in 2021 showing off dms on instagram that she claimed were from Dream. The dms are partially censored, but when lined up with the current dms claimed, they appear to match up. Importantly, between the two periods, at least three of her messages to Dream were deleted if both videos are assumed to be true. A transcript of the conversations was complied here on reddit, including markings for deleted messages:

The entire conversation was rather dry, sporadic, and doesn't have much to it other than her asking him for advice on becoming a streamer, and finally the snapchat. It's important to note, that despite what some people have said, Dream said he believes the instagram dms to be real, he did not make any statement about the snapchat dms being real, fake, or somewhere in the middle.

Since then, there was some weirdness with a bunch of other accounts making unverified claims, that I am personally choosing to ignore until any of them provide literally any evidence.

One other account, someone called Bee, has very recently claimed to have gone to school with Amanda. They were able to post a yearbook page that appears to be of Amanda, including her full name (something she had already posted). They stated that Amanda had lied in the past about having sexual dms from Dream at their school, including creating fakes to show people. Bee said they don't know if the current instagram dms are real or not, but after they recognized Amanda, they wanted to put forward that she had done something similar like this in the past. Bee has not been able to/cannot prove that Amanda said these things, other than word of mouth, but they do appear to at least have a yearbook that contains Amanda's photo and name.

On Dream's side of things, he has made no further statements on the matter since his twitlonger. Assuming he has gotten in contact with lawyers, he's likely going to be silent about anything to do with this until such time as a court case is filed or his lawyers advise him otherwise. I would expect that to take awhile, particularly if dms have been deleted or removed.

As of this time, we have no statements from lawyers, and it will probably be awhile until we get those from either side.

I am personally still waiting for legal action until I cast any sort of judgement on this situation. The allegations could be true, or they could be false. Lawyers will be better suited to sort this situation out, and it does appear both sides have thankfully gotten lawyers involved. Nothing has been proven as of this point, and it will likely be awhile before we know anything as a matter of fact.

[stormy-river]

Transcripts from the Humanity Hotline

If someone else has done something similar to this, I haven't seen it and I apologize. Otherwise, this is something I thought would be funny, and writing allows me to procrastinate on other things. Without further ado,

As an effort to foster trust and good will in the wake of the intergalactic treaty convention, many ships from the allied planets began to integrate other species into their crews. The need for experts and mediators to handle interspecies conflicts became quickly apparent. Of all the species, humans were reported to cause the most problems and misunderstandings, leading to the creation of the Humanity Hotline.

-------

Thank you for calling the humanity hotline. You will be connected with an operator shortly to answer any questions you may have regarding humans. This call may be recorded for training purposes.

Operator: "Hi, thank you for holding. My name is Mindy. What can I call you, and how may I help you today?"

Caller: "Yes, hello. I am Krryssk, the Personnel Officer of my ship. We recently hired a human, and she has been exhibiting strange behaviors. I am unsure how to handle this, or if I should worry for the safety of the crew."

O: "Alright, could you describe the behaviors? When did they start?"

C: "Yes, when we first hired her approximately six days ago, she was very quiet and kept to herself, fitting perfectly with the usual dynamic of the crew. But today, multiple crewmembers have reported that she has been making gestures at them and gave them things she calls, 'crochet', that she claims to have made. The crew is unsure of their purpose, and why she seems to be targeting only some of them with these actions. I searched our archives for this 'crochet', and found that is is made of yarn from an Earth animal's skin? What should I do to stop this? Is it some kind of code or signal of predatory intent?"

O: "Ah, I see. First, the yarn used for knitting and crocheting is not made from skin. Some yarns are made from the wool, or hair, of an animal, but yarn can also be made from sources other than animals. I believe I know why your human is acting this way, but to confirm my theory, are the crewmates she is... 'targeting'... the ones she works with the closest, or interacts with the most? And do the gestures involve moving an open hand back and forth in the air?"

C: "Yes! Yes, how did you know?"

O: "Alright. It is most likely that she is trying to befriend her crewmates. Hand-waving is a non-vocal greeting, acknowledgement, or goodbye, and some humans give gifts, such as handmade crochet, to people they care about or want to get to know better."

C: "So there is no predatory intent? I had heard that humans needed to socialize, but the captain said they hired the least social human they could find."

O: "Yes, many of the asocial or low-social species have done that, only to find that the human wasn't actually asocial, just shy or introverted. If possible, the crew can make their own gestures of acknowledgement in response to a wave, and just say, 'thank you,' for the gifts. That will likely keep her happy. For the long term, if the rest of the crew are asocial and uncomfortable socializing with her, you may want to hire another human or other social species. It's never good to have only one social crewmember."

C: "I will speak to the captain. Thank you."

End Transmission

[raydays-swap-au]

Rayday's Swap AU ~ Anita Rosie

This design took a bit to grow on me tbh. Didn't mean for her to end up looking sort of like a business mom, but I actually kinda like it. Maybe that's just me though. Either way, if the clothes I designed for her are shit, then yeah, I know I suck at designing. But I did my best, okay? :'(

More information about the design + "sprites" under the cut

Why I decided to add on "Anita" to her name - Anita is a name I got from a rose species(?) called Anita's Rose. I wanted her name to start with an A too to fit into the entire gimmick the regular Vees have, and I'd personally say my solution is pretty decent!

Why her eyes aren't blacked-out - This is a trait all the cannibals has, and since Velvette is taking over as the overlord/leader of cannibal town, I decided it'd be best to give her that trait instead when I eventually design her. I also did think of making one of Rosie's irises a button, though thought that looked a little too out-of-place for her "well-put-together" outfit, so it didn't make it into the finished prodcut.

Added color to Rosie's hair - Rosie's hair is all white in canon, which is broken up mainly by her hat. This isn't something she has in my swap design though ( as she has to be more modern and all ) so adding some color to it similar to Velvette's helped a lot. Do note I thought about using the dark blue, but that turned out to be too intense imo.

Blood jewelry - This is something I've seen on Pinterest a few times, and I thought it'd fit her well enough. Not only does it link her back to her original design, but it also plays into 1) being pricked by thorns, and 2) being dismembered and being able to be taken apart like a doll. The jewelry is just red beads on a string, but imo it gives off those visuals idk.

The skull earring - I decided to keep this detail from Velvette's outfit as they both have skulls in their designs. If you're wondering where Rosie's is: It's on her hat.

General rose/thorn motif - this comes mainly from her name being "Rosie" tbh. Nothing much else there. Also, I know it'd be awkward as hell to to walk with those torns around her pants, but I thought it'd be a neat detail.

The light heart motif - This is a motif both Valentino and Velvette has, so I decided to give swap Rosie the theme too so she can match with Angel Dust in that regard.

Ball joints - Velvette in canon is supposed to be a doll, though personally I find that a pretty easy detail to miss. And while I usually won't switch character's species(?) or whatever else like this, Rosie and Velvette are more of a special case considering Velvette would fit more to be Rosie's species(?) to fit in with the other cannibals.

Blazer - Velvette ( in the outfit I referenced ) has a coat that has fur on it, though I found I didn't really think that fit the style of Rosie. Instead I thought it would fit more for her to wear a blazer over her shoulders ( at least when doing business and the sort. )

Balzer's hear sleeves - I added the hearts being asymmetric like that because, to me, it just looks best. Having 3 hearts on each sleeve looked off, having one felt empty, and 2 symmetric hearts just felt a little boring to me.

Balzer sleeve button things - They're tiny little blood drops cuz I felt that'd be a good theme to have more than in just her jewelry.

Hair style - The hairstyle may or may not have been slightly inspired by the messy buns from I think was around the 2010s. I have shit memory, so I'm not sure if that's the correct time period, but based off some quick Google searches I should be right.

And as what I am making the usual, the "sprite" without the background:

[fountainpenguin]

#Riddle watches Traffic

Doing my best liveblog of Jimmy at the moment. He's my first POV for Session 6 Secret Life and I pulled up his name without looking at anyone else's video titles. Some thoughts:

Something has happened that is very similar to something I have drafted in a future Dog's Life chapter I wrote before Secret Life even began. I am rubbing my forehead... if this ends the way I suspect it will end then I will just have to stare at a wall I suppose... sweet goodness.

Jimmy and Martyn really did not expand their single bed situation this entire time, huh? I kept waiting for them to but what am I supposed to do with this.

Joel: I want a cool nickname. Call me "The Florist."

Jimmy, who just agreed to attack his own flower husband and tell them that the florist sends their regards: ...

Holy cow he's 14 minutes into a 44 minute video and he has like 4 different tasks he's trying to do simultaneously because people keep rushing up and telling him they need a deadly favor. It's good to be Red.

Lizzie (about Scar avoiding her trap): He came around the other way! He just smacked me in the butt.

Jimmy, about his dog-shaped house: Red tongue, representing the Red Dogs. Tongues are that color, so you know what I'm saying.

Etho: ??? You like to lick things?

/Puts my head in my hands

Jimmy, inviting Etho into his and Martyn's house: You can sleep in our one bed. There's two of us. We share. You might have to squeeze in as well.

Thanks, Jimmy.

sldfj Etho asking if one of them sleeps at the end of the bed like a dog. I recently wrote a scene of Impulse doing exactly that on Etho's bed.

It's way too funny to me that when people were roleplaying soulmates on Double Life, they [at least Bdubs and Impulse, Joel and Etho] made an active effort to include two beds in their bases, side by side, even though that serves no functional purpose. Even in Limited Life, the Bad Boys made 3 beds for some reason and put them next to each other. Now when they're not roleplaying, all that is out the window. You share a bed and you'll like it.

Love Etho throwing 17 pieces of steak on the ground and asking "Do dogs like steak?" and Jimmy just grabbing all of it while looking at the ground. That's also the same thing he and Tango did when Joel threw them potatoes or whatever back in Double Life and they claimed to be eating off the floor.

skldjfsldj Jimmy and Scott

Jimmy, screeching and tearing across the grass with his enchanted iron sword: The florist sends his regards!!! He sends them!

Scott, riding away on a horse, tripping over himself in laughter: Can you return them?? Does it come with a receipt?

Martyn: I'm on my 5th red task

Jimmy, still on his 1st: ...

Red Mumbo in Last Life: /desperate for friends, constantly trying to explode people and leave without elaborating

Red Mumbo in Secret Life when Martyn and Jimmy approach: Just because I'm Red doesn't mean I'm joining your stupid gang

Jimmy: Stupid gang? Have you seen your mustache, mate?

Mumbo, running forward: Hey hey hey!

Martyn: ???? Ooh, yeah, that was kind of harsh.

Love how Scott brought up the flower husbands comment, actually. Same brain, even though it was Joel's suggestion.

slkdjfs Scott invited Jimmy to his own preemptive funeral and his expression is sending me.

They buried rotten flesh in the coffin... that's amazing.

sdlkjf They invited Grian to attend the funeral and he shows up, looks at Jimmy, and says "I checked the tab list, like... Did I miss something?"

Jimmy, with unreasonable venom in his voice: You're not supposed to attend funerals if you're still alive.

They buried him alive in dirt above his own coffin... This is my first POV for Session 6 and all I can say right now is... whoever is the reason that Jimmy's episode is titled "The curse has been broken" has the opportunity to do the funniest thing right now.

Jimmy had such a difficult task... replacing water with blue glass and convincing someone to jump on it, from a specific location? Which has a ton of water? Geez, that's rough. He is struggling.

I am astounded at the amount of confidence Jimmy had to run up the stairs to the Gem and the Scotts base and charge in, mere minutes after Gem showed him the "doorbell," and while he's in the midst of telling Pearl that he hopes they haven't rigged TNT up to it. Jeepers, dude.

slkdjflsdjf everyone is freaking out over an explosion. No death message came up in chat, but after a minute, Joel starts frantically typing and screaming "Lizzie? LIZZIE?????" and I have a feeling...

Of course Jimmy wouldn't know what the death sound sounds like and assumes someone's trying to explode stuff near him.

Watching this chat with no context is amazing because it's Jimmy cheering that he's not out first for the 5th season in a row, it's Grian wailing LIZZIE IM SORRY and Joel shrieking HEY THATS MY WIFE. Amazing.

slkdjfsd Jimmy that was so close... Jimmy, if you had died because you hit your own glass trap at the bottom of the lake while doing a celebration dive for not being out first, that would have been the funniest thing.

Jimmy, snatching up his red task and reading in monotone: Punch another player into lava. It cannot be lava you've placed. Fantastic. Great.

[It can be lava he's placed]

Jimmy, to Martyn as he dumps his lava: Have you got another or not?

Martyn: No? I'm not made of lava- what? Come on. You're sounding hella ungrateful right now.

slkdjf Jimmy on Martyn betrayal!! Martyn is furious, Jimmy's literally roleplaying that he's a pathetic puppy with a broken leg, Martyn's ready to swing like "Hey, you won't be the first out, this is fine-"

Betrayal drama at the Big Dogs on the hill...

Geez, the swivel from that to the immediate, simultaneous warden and wither is nuts.

HE'S DOWN! HE'S DEAD, THE CANARY IS DEAD! Still out the first episode of perma-deaths, even if not the first out.

Jimmy Session 6 POV complete!

[atlas-library]

Giggling and kicking my feet and twirling my hair and going "oh my gawd" every time I re-read the nsfw alphabet that you did of toge your brain is so huge💞 gigantic even. You said you don't think he talks during those times (understandable), but do you think he doesn't even like...say tuna? If he has to say something (best dirty talk ever)? Actually, do you think he ever has to fight off the urge to actually speak and say something during sex, and then gets like. Upset at himself inside?

Okay so first of all, I'm gonna cry, this is the sweetest comment ever omg 🥹🥹 I haven't given up on this blog btw, I haven't posted in a while but I just got sick + I have a new job starting soon + somehow the creative juice got sucked out of me, BUT I'M STILL HERE AND THIS COMMENT!!! IT GIVES ME MORE REASONS TO KEEP PESTERING Y'ALL!!! 😭😭😭 so yeah tysm for your comment it just made my night 🥹🥹💗💗

Okay, regarding your questions (nsfw, so find it under the cut!!)

I actually think he would use some rice-ingredient words!

In-between the moans and whimpers, the pants and grunts coming from you both, he would probably ask how you're doing— A small "Mustard leaf?", or even some "Tuna tuna!" when he feels you drift away. And if you ask him how he's holding up, he'd try to give you a shaky "S-salmon..!" so you keep going.

I just think overall he tries to keep quiet, mostly because of how insatiable he is and thus how long sessions can be— If it's his first or second orgasm, he's not necessarily going to slip out. He has enough control to remember he can't fully let go. The more you go on, though... well, you both remember the time when he screamed of pleasure— That was wild, even for him. Sometimes you leave him a crying mess, and all you can do is watch as he pants and lets out unintelligible whimpers.

I also definitely think he would try to say your name. I headcanon Toge with a speech impediment, mainly him stuttering and stammering because he doesn't often get to pronounce new words; he knows his commands by heart, as well as Yuuta's name (and even then, he would pronounce it "Yuuda" at first). However, I think he'd try very hard to pronounce everyone else's names correctly, especially if he got caught doing it and basically got the equivalent of a pat on the head. For his significant other, it's clear he'd try his hardest: he can't tell you how important you are to him, so he'll try to do something simple yet very meaningful for the both of you. He'll try to pronounce your name, without stuttering— And it might slip out during sex.

Whenever he uses it, even though it doesn't seem to affect him, it does affect you: you can't say if it's actual cursed energy or simply your feelings for him, but you find yourself staring at him, admiring his features and drinking any sound leaking from his lips.

🍵 Okay, let's take a breather now. 🍵

...

🍵 Breathe in.. breathe out. 🍵

About your last question— Toge's curse is being a passionate soul forced to silence. He hides it well, but he feels a lot; he's a control freak, similar to Maki (even though they'd never admit it), because that's how he hurts the least amount of people. Before the school, before Gojo, before Panda (his first friend)— Toge was alone. He wouldn't say a word, hands would be shoved against his mouth if he dared breathe too loud. The only person who never shushed him nor feared him ended up being cursed by him— Clearly, everyone's better off far away from him.

The problem is, Toge is a lover. I'm an Inuokko shipper first and foremost so this might be where this idea comes from, but, even platonically, I think Toge would be the one to relate most to Rika. They're like two sides of the same coin when it comes to love. @gelatosushix made a wonderful post about it, so I won't dive too deep into this, but basically: Rika kills when she loves, but Toge dies when he loves.

A common mistake would be comparing Toge to a moth, drawn to fire and getting burnt by it. Toge isn't the moth; he's the flame. You're the moth. He's captivating, he has this mysterious aura yet somehow seems like an open book, but only if you ask the right questions— Only if you learn his language (and I'm not talking about rice ingredients). He intoxicates you, draws you in with his gaze (whether a purple wine with violet droplets, or a fiery brown with amber lights).

Then, he pulls his collar down: tattoos, or maybe burn scars, marking his cheeks and tongue as death takes the form of a baby-faced man. He's a weapon, one even Maki can't wield. He's feared. And yet— The raspiness of his voice, the deep accents scratching his throat— They get to you. Stupid moth flying to its death. At least it'll be sweet, you think.

Toge kills for people, because killing goes hand-in-hand with dying in his case. Toge loves by pushing away; that's how it's always been, that's what he's been taught. Yet you're here— You're holding him, stroking his cheek, singing his name, giving yourself to him. It feels right, it feels like everything he's ever wanted, it feels like so little yet so much to him— And he hates it.

You deserve it all and he deserves nothing. You deserve words. Not silly ones, actual words— But he can't say it. He can't stutter that he loves you, because what if? He could curse you. He could ruin your life, and Toge's already ruined so many lives in the past— It weighs on his soul, yet he can endure it; as long as you're not the next accursed.

So he bites down. On your skin, on his hand, on the pillow— Anything, anywhere. He bites down to keep the sounds from coming out. And if you reassure him, tell him that you know, he doesn't need to say it— He starts crying. He hates himself, he hates his curse, he hates the fucking marks on his face.

His hips slam against yours, he grabs at your skin; you're near, he knows it. He knows you by heart, that's the least he can do.

Deeper, deeper, deeper— You reach the stars first, but he follows soon after. And he keeps crying. He cries the rest of the night, even with you holding him and whispering against his lips. He has to grab onto you so he doesn't run to the bathroom to desperatly try and wash his markings off.

Toge is a lover, a passionate soul forbidden from opening his heart; he hates emotional sex because of how much his heart bleeds from it. It ignites his flame, lures you in even more; and when his cries fill the room, when he hugs you tight— It's like you're a butterfly, pinned by the thorns of a rose you were drinking from.

[martellspear]

Daeron I tried to imitate Aegon the Conqueror, but forgot what made him so successful in the first place: Limits. Aegon knew there was a limit on his conquests, Daeron had a child's vision of war and I don't blame the Dornish for murdering him under the banner of peace, yet in and out universe, the Dornish are reviled for defending themselves. Daeron was genuinely skilled and charismatic, but too arrogant and impatient.

"A conquest that lasted a summer. He wasted five thousand men in conquering Dorne and ten thousand in holding it. Somebody should have told him that war isn't a game."

I've been interacting with the asoiaf fandom for two years now and it’s, honestly to say the least, revolting how Dorne is treated by some (and I’ll include the show’s writers in that). Just this week I came across a post about how Dorne should keep itself out of the Seven Kingdoms business and how they shouldn’t “stick their noses where it doesn’t belong”. Now, I don’t know if it was jokingly or not, but it still is the same thing some characters and, from what I’ve seen, some readers genuinely think.

Historically, resisting this sort of “endeavor” has always casted a bad light over those who refuse to submit. They are seen as in need of a “righteous” person to guide them towards what’s considered to be the adequate path. We're taught to see the ones standing against oppression as condemnable. There's been a similar situation in Brazil’s history, and we can parallel the treatment towards the northeast region (which had many rebellions against the Crown during the Imperial era, was hard to control and discarded in favor of other regions and those who were born there suffer great prejudice to this very day) to what happens to Dorne.

Also, I'd like to say that The Dornish have always defended themselves and I'm honestly glad they did :).

Daeron did what he did not only because he saw war as a game but because he felt entitled to Dorne (the place that stood against a > dragon < but sure!! It'd work this time). We see this over and over with the Targaryens: they do what they want because of their name and the power that comes with it.

We can go into a deeper discussion regarding other themes that surround this if you want! You know you're always welcome to message me ♡.

[walviemort]

Expecting a Secret [2/3]

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow’s labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she’ll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There’s just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right? a/n: Here's the second part of my bday fic for @sancocnutclub !!! This is the full fic from the manip I posted last week. Last chapter should go up on Friday! rated T | AO3 | 3.8k | part 1 |

Based on what Killian was feeling and seeing, the next morning found him roughly at the 23-week mark (as expected, he’d spent most of the night studying his borrowed book—and was feeling thoroughly overwhelmed). His stomach looked yet larger, but his vest still had plenty of room, even if the laces on the side were let out a bit more.

He also found himself resting his hand on his belt to further hide the increasingly obvious curve of his midsection (at least, it appeared so to him, given all the decades that his form had remained unchanged). It seemed to work, thankfully, but he also made an effort to not be too social; he took lunch with Emma and Henry, at their request, but had to pass on their invite to dine at the loft that night. He cited his desire to avoid the extra burden on Snow—who it was implied could go into labor at any moment, though he had (good) reason to believe they had a bit more time, assuming Zelena’s implication that she had control over Snow’s pregnancy was true—but in reality, he knew his ravenous appetite would be nigh impossible to hide in such close quarters. (Granny was far less discerning, especially with with her approving comments about “putting some meat on his bones.”)

“We’ll miss you,” Henry told him as he and Emma left the diner that afternoon; Killian wasn’t sure if what he felt at that was his heart skipping a beat, or yet another kick from the little one, which were happening with increasing frequency and strength. 

He tried his damnedest to swallow his emotions and looked up at Emma, who was giving him a similar gentle look. “I, uh, I’ll miss you too—lad,” he added quickly. “Until next time.”

He was glad he’d left things vague when he yet again felt immediate relief at unclasping his vest once back in his room. The odds of it fitting even later that day were slim to none, which would no doubt draw Emma’s attention. No, he’d do best to avoid her the next several days, until this whole thing was done. 

That was something else he’d noticed—his conscious effort to put distance between him and this child, even if it obviously was more emotional than physical. His paternal side would find it far too easy to start considering names for the wee one, to caress his growing stomach and maybe even serenade the baby, to start preparing for the future. He wasn’t even sure the babe was his—but that had never stopped him before.

Until he knew how to keep them safe from Zelena’s clutches, though, he didn’t dare; that might only lead to heartbreak, and he’d known enough of that for a few lifetimes. 

He did ask Emma, during a moment when Henry stepped away to the restroom, if any progress had been made regarding the witch problem, given that his attempt at research was fruitless. 

“Nothing yet,” she sighed. “Unless we can somehow steal the items back before my mom goes into labor, our only hope is my magic.” Her eyes briefly darted to his lips; he leaned away from her. 

“I’d say both are good plans,” he assured her. “Especially the second one.”

She rolled her eyes, but blushed. “I think you’re the only person confident in that.”

“Well, take some of mine, then. Remember: I have yet to see you fail,” he reminded her, and placed his hand over hers on the diner table. 

The look she gave him was heavy; she still wasn’t used to people having that kind of faith in her, he knew. But if this was his only way of thwarting the witch—of keeping two infants safe—he’d give her as much support as he could.

The moment was simultaneously interrupted by Henry’s return, and a strong kick from his passenger—as if to remind him that at some point here (sooner than he’d care to admit), he’d have to go into hiding. He’d have to figure out a way to offer his support from afar. 

But until there was a definite plan, he was going to keep things as impersonal as possible, merely trying to make sure he complied with Zelena’s rules and did whatever he needed to remain something resembling comfortable. The babe seemed to be growing just fine; his stomach was maybe a touch smaller than average, but that could be attributed to him also being taller than the typical expectant parent, as well as a life at sea demanding denser core muscles. 

Hopefully, that remained the trend; he’d read the section about what happened after birth in more detail and…it wasn’t pretty. And he was still a rather vain man, with a woman to woo, if she’d still have him. 

(He hadn’t given much thought as to how he might explain this to Emma after the fact, if at all; he hoped the simple fact that Zelena was no longer going after the Charmings would be enough that they wouldn’t even need to have the conversation. However, he wasn’t naive enough to count on it.)

—----------------------------------------------

When he woke the next morning, his hand was instinctively resting atop the bare curve of his belly. (That didn’t bode well for his plans of detachment.)

He also found it difficult to sit up in his normal manner; after much rolling around and repositioning, he finally managed to get upright—only to see that his stomach had popped out a fair bit overnight. It most definitely resembled a bump now; after using the lavatory, he traced the curve of it in the mirror, equal parts astounded and horrified. He was also surprised at how firm it was—it wasn’t just softness; there was definitely something there. (Something that was repeatedly kicking at his liver, it felt like.)

His tunic was plenty roomy, but the vest would no longer clasp over his gravid form, no matter how much he let out the laces. He huffed as he cast it aside; he knew it was inevitable, but it was depressing all the same. At least his pants still fit, but barely—and likely not for much longer.  

If no one looked closely, and he didn’t tuck in his shirt, it wasn’t all that noticeable. But there would be no hiding it from those even reasonably close to him. Now he understood why the upper-class women referred to this time as “confinement”—because in order to keep this hidden, he’d have to stay in his room.

Not for the first time, he wished he had his ship; it would have been far easier to hide out there, away from prying eyes. Or if only there were another inn in town, but it would likely draw more attention if he were to relocate.

While he still had a semblance of normalcy to his appearance, he decided he should seek out provisions to get him through the next several days. By his math, he’d only just crossed the halfway mark in the time frame Zelena gave him, but was more than halfway through the pregnancy—so it was likely slowing down in speed, meaning he’d be spending the bulk of it during the most uncomfortable parts. Not only would he need food, he’d need other supplies as well. 

He’d jotted down a list and slipped it into the pocket of his greatcoat, next to the fair amount of gold he’d stashed before leaving the Jolly Roger. His jacket hung loose enough that it hid his belly, but only just.

Cautiously, he poked his head out in the hall before heading out; even if he was reasonably covered up, the more inconspicuous he could be, the better. The coast was clear, so he slipped out and locked up—but then he heard a similar sound from behind him.

“Oh, hey—I was just about to come over,” Emma said from across the way. “I’ve got a magic lesson this afternoon, but do you want to get lunch before it?”

He was still facing the door. Given the state of things, Emma was the last person he’d wanted to run into. Traitorously, the baby chose then to give him a sharp thump in the stomach, as if telling him to get a move on.

So he did his best to suck in a breath—to minimize his bump’s profile—before turning around. He plastered on his best flirtatious look and avoided the urge to place his hand on his belt. “Is that your way of asking me out on a date?” he teased, hoping the obvious come-on would prevent her from suspecting anything was awry.

As predicted, she rolled her eyes. “If I was asking you on a date, it wouldn’t be to Granny’s,” she countered.

“Duly noted,” he quipped back (and saved for future reference). “But unfortunately, I have to decline the invitation; I’m afraid I have some errands to run that I’ve been putting off too long.”

“Oh.” Her face fell, and he tried to make sure his heart didn’t follow it. “Well, I could go with you, if you wanted.”

He did—so much. But then how would he explain the copious amounts of food he was about to buy? “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t know how long it will take—and I know that Her Majesty can’t be kept waiting.”

Emma huffed, but he saw acceptance across her face. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m absolutely not seeing her on an empty stomach.”

“Nor should you,” he agreed, smiling—though hopefully it didn’t look too pained, because his attempts at holding in his belly were beginning to strain. As such, he started to turn away to leave, but she wasn’t done.

“Hey, where’s your vest? Is that one of your errands?”

Dammit; should have known she’d notice. But her gaze seemed to be focused on his chest and not any lower; normally, he’d comment on her leering but he was just relieved. “Aye; damaged it with my hook last night, and the laces need repair.” (That part was true—some of them had gotten a bit stretched.)

“Darn; I thought maybe you were actually going to join the modern world and get some new clothes,” she teased.

“Not yet,” he countered, but it wasn’t a bad idea—not a total wardrobe change, but perhaps something a bit…roomier, or more forgiving. “I should get to it, though.”

Emma blinked and looked back up at him, having seemingly been lost in a daydream. (Perhaps buying modern clothes did need to be added to his docket at some point; just not today.) “Yeah, and I need to get moving. Have fun.”

“Thanks, and good luck,” he farewelled; Emma headed the opposite way down the hall with a casual wave.

He waited until she was out of sight and then relaxed with a sigh; he could feel his belly press against the laces of his trousers as soon as he did, and indulged in a brief massage of his lower abdominal muscles. At least the ruse had worked—but he was definitely seeking out pants with an elastic waist.

The supermarket was aptly named; it was indeed massive and overwhelming. But it had everything—fresh vegetables and meat, bulk rations, even perishables and fresh-baked goods. It was astounding. He was easily able to gather enough provisions (healthy ones at that) for the next several days. He also grabbed some items at random that simply sounded appealing—mostly sweets, but he’d learned that cravings were a customary part of the process and this little one certainly had a sweet tooth.

(Thankfully, he also found the section with flexible clothing with ease. He purchased a couple pairs of what were labeled “sweatpants” and a few long-sleeved tops in varying sizes and colors; he just hoped he’d selected ones big enough.)

Odds were he overpaid for the lot of goods, given that the lad working the checkout didn’t know the gold conversion rate offhand, but he didn’t rightly care if it also bought the boy’s discretion. Thankfully, he also had his enchanted tote bag with him—the one with the hidden expansion charm he’d picked up…gods, he couldn’t even remember where anymore, it’d been so long—so he wasn’t spotted carrying half a dozen overladen sacks into Granny’s.

He spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking his newfound treasures, grateful to finally have a use for the seemingly magical ice box in his room. He stashed the nonperishables on his small table, and his new clothing in a dresser drawer. 

One last thing remained, and admittedly, he hadn’t paid for it: a tiny outfit intended for a baby, covered with illustrations of sailboats. He’d slipped it into a pocket before paying for everything else, not wanting to draw the raised eyebrows such a purchase would attract, even if he could have passed it off as being for the Charming’s infant. 

He held it up with just his thumb and forefinger; the label on it suggested it was sized for a newborn, but it still seemed impossibly small. At least, until he laid it atop the steadily increasing curve of his belly; then he wondered if it would even be large enough (though the books told him the babe was only yet the size of an aubergine, which he had stared at in the produce section for an extended period of time).

Bloody hell, what was he doing? He couldn’t get attached; if he failed to help Emma and the others defeat Zelena, it would spell doom for this child. And given that he was increasingly running out of ideas, it seemed imminent. He’d already suffered two terrible heartbreaks in his life; he wasn’t sure he could survive another (which would undoubtedly be harsher).

He yanked open an empty drawer and threw the onesie inside, then shoved it shut. Best not to continue that train of thought; only if they actually managed to defeat the witch.

Sighing, he plopped down in the dining chair and tore (literally) into a package of something called Oreos. They were delicious, but did nothing to assuage his fears or guilt. For the umpteenth time, his hand instinctively drifted to his stomach, as if his touch alone could protect the babe.

Hopefully that, and his trust in the heroes, would be enough.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Killian awoke the next day to something touching him. In his sleep-addled mind, he lashed out towards whatever it was, fully intending to let it (or them) get acquainted with the sharp end of his hook.

However, he’d taken his prosthesis off last night, lest he do anything to injure his ever-expanding midsection, so all he did was hit it away with his brace. An annoyed yelp followed his impact. 

“Bloody hell, I was just checking on the baby,” Zelena scolded. He blinked a few times, urging the sleep away from his eyes, to see the witch standing over him, scowling. 

“What the hell do you want?” he demanded as he tried (and failed) to sit up, eventually settling for propping himself on his elbows.

“I’m simply making sure that my investment is paying off. I’ve kept up my part of the deal—those sickly-sweet Charmings are just fine. But I’ve got to make sure everything is going well here, too; pregnancy is tricky business, you know.” She turned her gaze to his exposed belly; despite the shirt he’d worn to bed, it had ridden up overnight. “Oh, is that a stretch mark I see?” she declared, leaning back towards him.

He yanked the hem of his shirt down, both to cut off her view and at the wound to his vanity.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted. “I thought most expectant parents were basking in the glow of creating life, or whatever?”

“When it’s something they’ve wanted, aye; not when it’s been forced on them,” he spat. He hadn’t truly understood the concept of glowing until his time spent with Snow lately; however, he felt more washed out than anything incandescent.

But speaking of glowing—as she stood upright and folded her arms, light from the window glinted off the jewel at her neck. He remembered what the Charmings had been told about it being the source of her power, and without any further thought (moving faster than he thought he could), he lunged for the pendant, hoping that it might be just that simple to defeat her.

No sooner had his fingers brushed the surface of the gem than he was thrown back forcefully against the headboard; he groaned in pain. Bollocks.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she chastised. “Did you really think it’d be that easy? Especially when you’ve been touched not once, but twice by my own magic?”

“Had to try,” he panted out as he tried to catch his breath. His hand flew to his stomach as its inhabitant also protested the blow.

“You really ought to be more careful; a fall like that isn’t good for the little one,” she warned.

“Why do I give a shit what happens to your demon offspring?” he countered.

She scoffed. “Oh, it’s not mine. The spell would never work with my own blood. But,” she started, coming closer and leaning over him again. “It is yours.”

“What?” he gasped. He’d certainly wondered, but hadn’t expected that it was actually his child. How could she expect him to hand over his own flesh and blood? What he did to Bae all those years ago still haunted him; this would be even worse.

“Indeed. All the more reason for you to be careful, hm?” The way she caressed his bump again felt more like a threat than any sort of endearment. “If this child doesn’t survive, our deal is off. And maybe you should read the part of that book over there on just what that will do to you.”

(He swallowed, because he already had, of course; he couldn’t imagine anything more traumatic than carrying a child that didn’t survive—especially now knowing this one was truly his.)

“Then who’s the mum?” he asked, trying to distract himself. He needed to know that, too, especially if it wasn’t Zelena. “Is there one?” (Biologically, he knew there should be…but, biologically, she would be the one with child.)

“There is. Magic can’t circumvent that,” she confirmed as she set herself to rights. “But as for who…I’ll tell you when it’s all said and done.”

“You’re a bastard,” he growled.

“Something me and that baby will have in common,” she laughed.

She abruptly moved away and turned around, so he closed his eyes and took another deep breath to recover, at least physically, while she was distracted. He hadn’t realized how much the babe was pressing on his lungs until now.

“Oh, isn’t this sweet?” Zelena cooed. He opened his eyes to see her holding up the onesie. “Not my color scheme, but it certainly suits your aesthetic. Too bad they won’t get to wear it.”

Angrily, he stood from his bed to rush at her—he didn’t know why, exactly, just that he was suddenly filled with rage—but it was for nought, as she merely threw the garment at him before disappearing in her signature green smoke.

He caught it against his chest and sighed. He’d failed, hadn’t he? There was no way he could do anything to keep this child from Zelena’s clutches now, unless Emma managed to defeat her in the next few days. He sniffled, suddenly overcome by emotion—because wasn’t this so typical for him? To lose the things he loved?

(Because, much as he had tried not to, he did love the babe—even before he knew it was his; that was just his nature. But as with all things he loved, it was going to be taken from him—and their mum likely had no clue. Shit.)

His gaze was still on the outfit, vision blurring with tears, when a knock rapped at his door. He froze, hoping whoever it was would go away, but it sounded again. “Hook? Are you there?”

Of course it was Emma. Despite everything, he couldn’t say no to her. “Coming,” he called out, and quickly tossed the onesie aside, wiped his eyes, and strode to the door.

But then he glanced down; there was no hiding his belly, especially while wearing just the shirt and sweatpants he’d changed into (which, while exceedingly comfortable, did nothing to disguise the curve of his waistline). So he awkwardly angled himself, and opened the door just enough to peek his upper body around.

“Morning, Swan,” he greeted, though it was nowhere near as smooth as he usually was. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked him over, then tried to look past him into his room. “I thought I heard something weird; is everything okay?”

“Right as rain,” he lied. “I did have a run-in with my bed frame, though,” he said, hoping she would believe him if he at least partially told the truth.

“What, stub your toe?” she teased.

“Aye, something like that,” he agreed.

She briefly narrowed her gaze, but seemed to accept his answer. “Well, do you want to get breakfast? Henry was asking if you wanted to spar again, too; I think he’s gunning to be your first mate.”

He had to smile at that, but it didn’t hold. “Ah, I’m dealing with a fair bit of fatigue at the moment; can I take a rain bill?”

Emma tilted her head. “You mean a rain check?”

“That, yes.”

“I suppose, but that’s only going to mean he’ll want more later.”

“I endeavor to make it up to him in full.”

She grinned, but hers too didn’t last. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he told her—which was true, given that the babe was treating his internal organs as playthings.

“Alright, well, rest up; you’ve been missed around here.” There was a steadiness in her gaze that suggested she was speaking personally rather than generally.

“I’ll try,” he said, though his voice was almost a whisper.

“See you,” she farewelled; he repeated it and shut the door, perhaps a bit too forcefully.

The next few days were going to be interminable, weren’t they?

The lone blessing was that Belle had lent him a few books from the library, so he had the means of entertainment, and obviously had bought more than enough food. (Those Pop-Tart pastries that Emma seemed to favor were indeed delicious.)

He felt like an arse when he had to feign sleep during Emma’s next attempt to drag him from his room, around dinner time. The woman was bloody stubborn. But, as he was being reminded by the insistent little foot digging into his ribs, there was truly nothing to be done until they were out. He’d extend his apologies then—once they’d defeated the witch.

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

thanks for reading! tagging a few: @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @mathiaskejseren @88infinity88

[callophelia-ailingamnemonic]

Scared into acting again, here are some shadow/persona designs I made for Persona Crossroads:

I saw a news article thing for P6 show up on my phone's newsfeed and got scared into acting once more, here are some more persona and shadow designs I made for Crossroads (which I sort of scrapped since I don't want it to be done in the P5 Tactica art style anymore XDD)

First up we got the myth, the legend, Bayonetta!

I actually got pretty far into making the art digital, but as much of a shame as it is, I just wanted an art style change XDD The final Bayonetta design will probably still look similar tho owo

I used Ernesto from P5T as inspo for the gun feet X33 I don't really have much else to talk about regarding her design since it mostly sticks to her canon outfit in Bayonetta 1.

Next, we got Karl Jacobs' TFTSMP character.

I really wanted to lean in on the whole In Between-Other Side-XD's World idea, tho I ended up not finishing the colouring since I got stuck on what to do with the hair lol XDD

The bottom coat part is inspired by a fanart I saw by Cute Studio (I believe their username was...) and the inside of the coat and the hands sprouting from the ends of Jacobs' scarf is a reference to all the versions of him that can be found in the In Between. The last notable note I can think to mention about his design is how his halo is meant to sort of... evoke the imagery of a clock? If that makes sense lol.

I wanted him to look super ominous since Jacobs' was supposed to be a boss.

Unexpectedly, up next we have the illusive, rumoured Istaroth from Genshin Impact!

It's a weird choice since we've never had a confirmed appearance for her, but back in my old notes for Crossroads, Istaroth was supposed to be one of the characters' personas, so yeah, I made her lol.

Her design was inspired by art of her drawn by gierosajie-art and littleblueberryartist! Originally I had her standing, but realised the pose of her sitting down with her hands in her lap to be more iconic.

And here we have Mari from OMORI! :DD

I think I mentioned it before, she was originally supposed to be part of a system of personas that's like... a bunch of personas in one personas because their user was a person with DID. Still not sure if I'm keeping the concept yet, but if not, then she'll just be a shadow roaming around.

Her hair was inspired by a fanart made by k0re_drawings on Twitter. I just loved how they drew her hair in a way that looked like snapped violin strings! If I redesign her tho, I think I might use a drawing by an artist called Hiko (I think) as inspiration. Mari doesn't really look like Something, but if you look at her from the back, the resemblance is there, I swear!

And next we have the Electro Archon herself, Raiden Ei! :DD

This was designed when she was still supposed to be Arilette's persona and I truly regret not making her skin look like shadows :\\

Her outfit is basically just her normal outfit without some of the asymmetricalness and some extra ornaments and armour inspired by the Raiden Shogun boss and a small handful of fanarts. I love how her bottom half has the vague silhouette of a butterfly :))

And last but not least, we got the Anemo Archon, Venti! :DD

So... I don't like his design ._. It's too much. I tried using various fanarts as inspiration to try and make his outfit a lil cooler, but it's just... so... much ._. (I do love the touch of Celestia in his corrupted form owo)

Even tho the name of the persona is Venti, I decided to make his look resemble Barbatos so I could pull a Third Ascension and make it look like his bard outfit while naming it Barbatos owo

That's all I got lol

[lostloveletters]

Bruised Fruit Chapter 5 (Michael Corleone x OC)

Summary: No child feels as though they'll ever live up to their parents' expectations of them, but it's almost worse when their fiance doesn't. Both Gloria and Michael find this out the hard way.

Note: Just a little clarity, there’s no “J” in Italian, and the name Giacomo is pronounced almost like “Jah-koh-moh” making “Jack” or “Jackie” a common nickname for Italian-American immigrants with that name. It’s obviously less common of a name now among Italian-Americans than in the past. In reference to the brief discussion about Laika between Gloria and Jackie, the truth about Laika’s fate wasn’t revealed to the public until the 2000s, after the fall of the USSR. Prior to that, Soviet accounts implied the below.

Warnings: A lot of family-related angst, and period-typical slut-shaming, but that's about it.

Chapter 4 | AO3 Link | Masterlist

Do not interact if you're under 18 or post thinspo/ED content. I will block you.

By the end of April, their lives had been packed neatly in boxes and transported to New York. Almost the entire family had relocated to the Long Beach area. Michael told Gloria that before the family’s move to Nevada, the entire block had been like the Lake Tahoe compound, walled off and closely guarded with only family living inside the perimeter. After the move, the wall was torn down, and all of the houses except theirs had been sold off to strangers. 

Gloria appreciated the change in the neighborhood’s occupancy, excited at the prospect of socializing with people other than Corleones and their associates. Some of the neighbors she’d met on her morning walks up and down the street were especially friendly and welcoming. She could hardly keep track of the number of invitations for coffee or dinner she’d tentatively accepted on her and Michael’s behalf. 

After all, a few of the housewives didn’t hesitate to tell Gloria how odd the old neighbors were. Nice enough, but kept to themselves. Always had people coming and going at all hours of the day or night. ‘Isn’t that so strange?’ they’d ask Gloria, eyeing her as if hoping for some insight on the situation. All she could do was shrug, promising that her family wasn’t antisocial and she’d just have to check with Michael when they’d be free to visit. At the very least, she could bring Anthony and Mary over in the afternoons for playdates. The mid-school year move hadn’t affected Mary much, but it was clear Anthony missed his friends back in Nevada. Still, it seemed like everyone on the block had kids around their age. 

“I ran into a few of our neighbors on my walk,” Gloria said one morning. “They want us to come over sometime and—“

“What did you tell them?” Michael asked.

“Just that we moved back here from Lake Tahoe because you thought it’d be better for the kids. Why?”

“That’s fine, just be careful what you tell people outside the family.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. In their years-long affair, she’d hardly told anyone about him. The only people who knew even any details had been his family. Her own family didn’t even know he was in her life until she called to tell them about the engagement. 

“Do you think I want these people to know about me ? ‘Oh, the slut moved into the neighborhood. Hide your husbands.’”

“Don’t call yourself that.”

“Michael, I was just—“

“I don’t care,” he said sternly. “I’ve never called you that. I’ve never let anyone else call you that or anything similar.”

Gloria fell silent as ‘let’ hung heavy in the air. Such revelations made her uneasy, reckoning with how she and Michael could have been on such different wavelengths in how they regarded their relationship for so long. She wondered who had called her that, or tried, at least, and what he’d said or done in response.

“They only know what I want them to know,” she said. “I understand you’re busy, but it wouldn’t hurt to be friendly. People noticed how whoever used to live here never bothered with anyone.”

He sighed. “Why don’t we work on seeing your parents first, and then we can socialize with the neighbors, alright?”

Her parents. Only two days until she and Michael went over to their house for lunch, her parents begrudgingly agreed to host her and their future son-in-law for a meal that wouldn’t be as significant as dinner. She wondered how he fared with Kay’s family, whether they had any clue as to what Michael did for a living the way hers did. 

She was quiet until he left for the day, giving her a soft kiss. She sat at the kitchen table, scanning over the day’s newspapers until her back began to ache from the hard wooden chair. As she made her way into the living room, she tried to think of how to occupy the rest of her day. The house had been almost completely unpacked and all of the new furniture delivered. Anthony and Mary were in school, and as much as she loathed the idea of housework, that was mostly taken care of by the hired help who puttered around the place, seemingly reluctant to socialize with her. She’d expressed to Michael that she felt uncomfortable being waited on, which to him meant that they should simply avoid unnecessary interactions with her.

She hadn’t bothered keeping in touch with any of her old friends when she moved to Las Vegas for the job at the casino, not expecting to move back to New York. After the novelty of her postcards had worn off, they’d simply lost touch. Not that it would have mattered, they were probably all in different houses with new phone numbers anyway, vastly different people than when she’d left them. She had surely changed over the years, too. So her greatest hope were her new neighbors, solidly middle class and her age or older, with their PTA meetings and Avon parties, nothing like the nightclubs and shows that had been at her fingertips in Vegas. Still, it was something. She didn’t dislike spending time with Connie or Sandra or any of the other Corleone women by any means, but if that was to be the extent of her social life, she may as well have been a dog following its tail for fun.

Gloria flinched when the phone rang, shocking her out of her thoughts. 

“There’s a man on the phone for you,” Margaret, one of the maids, said. She was the first to be hired when they moved into the New York home. An older woman with graying hair and kind green eyes who humored Gloria’s conversations every so often. “He says he’s your brother?”

“I’ll take it. Thank you, Margaret,” Gloria said, rushing over to the phone. “Jackie! How are you?”

“Good, I was wondering when you’re free to get coffee? Me and Viv have time this afternoon and–”

“I’m free right now. Where should I meet you?”

“How about that diner by my house? The one we went to when you were here for Thanksgiving.”

“Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Gloria said, hanging up with a wide smile on her face. 

Things had been so busy, she couldn’t remember the last time she went out for something besides errands.

On the notepad next to the phone, she quickly scrawled, ‘Getting coffee with Jackie and Viv. Be back later.’ She grabbed the car keys and dashed out the door. 

Since the neighborhood was no longer exclusively occupied by Corleones, the usual bodyguards couldn’t hang around outside the house so openly. A relief for Gloria, who despite being able to otherwise come and go as she pleased, hated feeling as though she were asking permission to go anywhere. With none of them to be seen, Gloria got into her car–a shiny new Cadillac that was another engagement present from Michael–and made the fifteen minute drive to the diner. 

As soon as Gloria saw Jackie and Vivian already sitting in a booth, she nearly lost a shoe in her rush to hug her brother, feeling her chest tighten at being around him again after so much had happened since they’d last seen each other. Her thoughts drifted to Fredo. From what she could tell, Michael was hardly on speaking terms with him when he died. Surely he must have regretted not reconciling sooner. 

She could still remember when Jackie finally came home from his service in the Pacific, he’d been thinner than she remembered, more haggard too, his hug feeling as though it were missing something compared to the one he’d given her at the train station before he shipped off for good after boot camp. For a while, she felt almost suspicious of him, as if someone who looked like her brother had come home. He didn’t act the way she remembered and had no interest in explaining why he was that way. It took only one night terror for him to decide to get his own apartment, quietly saying he needed space.

Things only seemed to look up a few months later when he met his wife, Vivian. He’d taken up working as a truck driver, making local deliveries at night to stave off the horrors that’d replay in his sleep. He’d regularly drop off medical supplies at the hospital Vivian worked at as a nurse, helping with receiving late deliveries sometimes when the night shift was slow. Most people regarded Vivian as brash and opinionated, but Gloria admired her tenacity. It had to have been what breathed some life back into her brother after so long. 

Since then, Jackie got a job at the post office, Vivian still a nurse, and Gloria never went more than a few months without seeing them. The thought of being able to see them more often made her feel at ease for the first time since the move.

“Hey,” Jackie said, laughing a bit, “I missed you too.”

“It’s great to see you again, Glo,” Vivian said as Gloria gave her a hug almost as strong as the one she gave Jackie. “We went ahead and ordered your usual for you.”

“We’re glad you’re back in town. I mean, I guess we could’ve tried harder to visit you in Nevada, but–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gloria assured him. “So, how have things been?”

“Every day’s the same,” he said. “It’s all going as good as it can.”

That was how he preferred things for going on fifteen years. Simple and predictable. A go-with-the-flow type of guy who avoided conflict to an almost problematic degree, which made him the perfect match for Vivian, a go-getter who preferred to take the lead. The first time Gloria met her, she admired her determination and audacity, traits that got her promoted to a nurse supervisor only a few years into working at the hospital. 

A waiter brought over coffee for the three of them, along with a slice of apple pie for Jackie, a cheese danish for Vivian, and Italian rainbow cookies for Gloria. She poured the milk on the table into her mug, sipping it to check the taste.

“Your dad says you’re marrying a gangster,” Vivian said.

“Not so loud!” Gloria hissed, practically slamming her mug down.

Jackie cracked the slightest smile. “We didn’t hear the end of it at Sunday dinner.”

“God, we’re going over there for lunch soon,” she groaned. 

“Glad I won’t be around for that,” Vivian said. “What’s he like, your fiance? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”

“It wasn’t that serious to begin with. At least, I thought it wasn’t. Up until two months ago, he was married,” she said, grateful Jackie wasn’t one who cared for details or specifics, though she knew she’d end up telling Vivian everything anyway at some point. “Michael cares a lot about his family. You could never tell, but he has a great sense of humor when I can coax it out of him. He’s…someone who knows how to get what he wants.”

“What does he want from you?”

“A son.”

“Is that what you want?”

“You remember a couple years back, when the Ruskies sent that dog into space, knowing she wasn’t gonna be coming back?” Gloria asked.

Vivian nodded. “Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

Laika. The papers called her Muttnik. A stray dog plucked from the streets of Moscow and lifted into the annals of scientific history. Survived about a week in space and then euthanized through poisoned food before her oxygen ran out. She wouldn’t have survived the return to earth. Sputnik 2 burned up as it raged back down through the atmosphere. Her demise was inevitable, essential, even, to the mission’s success. But she was alone up there. Terrified as the stars twinkled in her eyes the way no one else had ever seen them.

“I think I know how she must have felt.”

“You and me both,” Jackie said.

The days leading up to Michael meeting her parents for the first time flew by far more quickly than Gloria would have preferred. They wouldn’t be bringing Anthony and Mary to meet them just yet, not when Gloria knew her father was going to have choice words about her engagement to Michael regardless of who was there.

Her parents’ resentment toward the New York crime families stemmed from the organizations meddling in politics and union affairs for their own personal gain. The draft dodging during the war didn’t help either, though that thankfully wasn’t the case for Michael. Her parents worked respectable jobs, Jack a stonemason and a union man, and Julia a typist after two years of night classes when Jackie was barely a toddler. 

Despite her warnings about her dad’s inevitable hostility toward Michael, her fiance seemed unfazed, confident that he’d somehow be able to change her notoriously stubborn father’s mind. That confidence was unwaning until her mom welcomed them in through the front door, her dad standing a few feet behind her with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, hands in his pockets, brows furrowed.

“Dad, this is Michael, my fiance,” Gloria said. “Michael, this is my dad, Jack.”

Michael extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Marino.”

Her father’s tone was flat as he shook Michael’s hand. “Yeah, you too.”

“I’d like to speak with you privately—“

Jack shook his head dismissively. “I gotta talk to my daughter first.”

Michael’s jaw clenched, though he nodded, putting his hand on Gloria’s lower back. “Go on, darling. I’ll keep your mother company.”

She gave him a terse smile, kissing his cheek. She hoped her mother wouldn’t be so blatant in her distaste for Michael. Julia was an anomalous blonde among an extended family of brunettes and seemed to be keenly aware of the unfortunate stereotypes surrounding her intelligence as a result of her hair color. As a result, she read extensively and went to libraries and museums to attend talks by all manner of authors, historians, and artists. She knew more about politics than most of the pundits in the papers through her own personal involvement with campaigns. Gloria always felt as though she fell short of her mother’s academic aspirations for her, working service jobs and moving to Las Vegas on a whim instead of going to college.

She expected Michael to be thoroughly grilled by her mother on his attending Dartmouth nearly two decades prior. Her mention of the Ivy League school had piqued Julia’s interest, especially considering Michael abandoned his studies after joining the Marines. Then, he returned home to be pulled back into the orbit of the world he was trying to escape from, the one that made her parents reluctant to welcome him into their home, their family.

Sparing another glance at Michael, Gloria followed her father up the stairs, creaky old wood muffled by the carpeting that’d been laid down over it less than a year prior, easier on her parents’ joints as they got older. Vivian had already argued with them about moving their bedroom downstairs. That was a compromise. 

With both Gloria and Jackie out of the house for some time, their childhood bedrooms had been requisitioned into a craft room and a guest room, respectively. Gloria’s old bed had long since been moved out, replaced by mismatched tables and TV trays with spools of thread and paints left haphazardly on them. Some finished paintings and embroideries hung on the patterned wall along with framed family photos. 

“Dad, you really shouldn’t have spoken to Michael like that,” she said.

“I have to deal with that shit in the union and now in my own home,” her father huffed, lighting another cigarette. “Do you really want to marry him? If you don’t, I’ll tell him to leave you alone. I don’t care what his last name is, I’m not afraid of him.”

She had to turn away from her father slightly so as to not let him see her face become flushed, tears nearly welling up in her eyes. Her gaze landed on a clipping from a local paper he had framed, a short article about an award she’d won in grade school for selling the most cookies during St. Catherine’s annual bake sale fundraiser. The article had hardly been a margin in one of the back pages, the accompanying photo of Gloria with a nun was small enough to be laughable, practically a waste of ink, yet he kept it. 

“Gloria?”

Clearing her throat, she said, “I love Michael. This’ll be good for me. I’m not getting any younger, that’s what all of mom’s letters said.”

He groaned. “Him, though? Christ, Glo, when you said you were moving out to Las Vegas, we hoped you’d meet some nice, hard-working Western man out there.”

“A cowboy?” she joked weakly.

No, that wasn’t what her father had meant at all. Jack and Julia had raised their children as cultural chameleons. English was spoken at home, and only English. They were Americans, after all. Her mother was born to Napolitano immigrants in Brooklyn and given the Anglicized version of the name Guilia. Her father emigrated from Sicily with the rest of his family at the age of ten but took great pride in his adopted country. In his teens, he’d taught himself how to speak English without a heavy accent by mimicking radio hosts and began going by Jack, rather than his given name Giacomo.

“Better than a gangster,” he hissed. “They’re all disgraceful, but that family is among the worst. That farce of a hearing, as if they’d ever be held responsible for all the damage they’ve done, the lives destroyed, the blood in the streets, the drugs, the politicians, even my own damn union—“

“Please don’t—“

“Has he got you living in some fantasy world? Where all that shit won’t touch you? That if you look the other way or keep your head in the sand, nothing will happen? He has no right promising you peace or safety when he deals in the opposite.”

Gloria could only stand silent as her father ranted. She could hardly imagine what he’d say to Michael. In a brutal irony, this man of unwavering principles recognized that his daughter’s union would make him untouchable to this figure of the shadowy institution he so despised. From then on, every time he would see his son-in-law, he’d be a buzzing fly, an unwanted, brutal conscience until his natural death.

“When you come to this country, you scrape by and try to make an honest living while becoming part of things here. Him and his ilk? They bring their violence and barbarism over from their Stone Age caves to build themselves castles, and we hard-working Italian-Americans get lumped in with those savages.”

Jack and Julia considered themselves patriotic, envisioning the promises of American prosperity for their children. They couldn’t have been prouder when Jackie signed up to join the Marines after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Active in the war effort at home, they bought war bonds and rationed, even sold their car to contribute the steel and rubber. 

Finally turning to face her father again, she said, “Michael was a war hero. He has those dreams, like Jackie does, where he thinks he’s there again. The other half of the time he can’t even sleep because it stays with him.”

“I’m glad something has,” her father grumbled.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Look. I respect what he did for this country, and only that. You don’t forsake what’s right for what's easy, Gloria. If you want to marry into that family, fine, you’re an adult who can make her own decisions.”

After a few moments of silence, she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Her father’s weathered face softened, and he took her in his arms. “Hey, c’mon, you could marry a Martian, and I’d still love you.”

“I think you’d prefer that.”

He laughed, releasing her from the hug. “I think I would.”

“Try to give him a chance, alright? Michael isn’t as bad as you make him out to be,” she said, as if her suspicions surrounding Fredo’s death hadn’t been occupying her subconscious since the move back to New York.

As far as she knew, Michael hadn’t killed anyone himself. She suspected he had committed the Sollozzo and McClusky murders despite his denying such at the hearing. No, the Don didn’t kill, from what she pieced together over the years, he ordered others to do so. Delegation was key in that thing of his. The hierarchy existed to protect those at the top. They were untouchable, at least, that was the idea. She’d never asked Michael about the murders of the Dons of the other families. The gossip mill at work had run strong for weeks following Moe Greene’s murder, surely no coincidence that he was dead, giving the Corleone family their opportunity to move in on the casino after he unequivocally turned down their offer to buyout his stake.

He nodded, patting her shoulder. “Alright, honey.”

Fear flashed in Jack’s gaze as he looked at his daughter, momentarily soul crushing, the prospect that he had told her what she already knew and didn’t care, not enough to do anything about it. Out of everyone in her life, her father had always been in the most denial about her selfish streak despite his and Julia’s best efforts to raise her differently. The wool had been torn from his eyes the second she defended Michael, however weakly she’d done so.

Gloria could hardly manage a weak smile as she and her father made their way back downstairs. Faint laughter grew a bit louder as they approached the two in the living room, Gloria relieved that it seemed like her mother wasn’t too hard on Michael.

Julia and Michael stood in front of a wall covered in family photos. Somehow, no matter the occasion, Julia always found a way to make room for more frames to be squeezed in. 

“—well, you know how she is.”

Michael snickered. “Believe me, I know.”

“Oh, you’re just in time. I ran out of embarrassing stories to tell your fiance,” Julia said upon noticing Gloria standing in the doorway. 

Gloria rolled her eyes, though her amusement fell slightly when she noticed her father had hung back by the stairs. “Dad’s waiting,” she sighed.

Julia gave Michael a fake salute. “Good luck up there, Marine.”

Michael smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Marino.”

As he neared Gloria, he took her hand in his and kissed the top of it, a fondness in his gaze that felt surprisingly intimate for him to express with others around. She watched as Michael followed her father as he trudged back up the stairs.

“C’mon, honey. Help me get lunch ready,” Julia said, leading her daughter into the kitchen.

“I hope you like Michael more than dad does,” Gloria said when the men were out of earshot.

“He’s polite, humored my little stories, but Glo, he’s divorced,” her mother lamented. “You won’t get a wedding mass.”

“He’s petitioning for an annulment. His ex-wife had an abortion while he was in Havana. He didn’t know.”

Julia’s eyes widened as she made a sign of the cross. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

“It’s been really hard on him.”

“Can I ask you—how long have you and Michael been…involved? It seems quite soon for him to remarry.”

“About four years.”

“Gloria,” her mother groaned. “I thought I raised you better than that.”

“I know, mom, but we’re doing the right thing now and getting married,” she said, hesitating before speaking the only words that could possibly salvage her mother’s opinion of the situation. “He wants to have a baby with me.”

“Doing things a little backwards, don’t you think?”

“When have I ever done anything forwards?”

“Never. I’m surprised all this is happening in the first place,” she said, silent for a moment as she took stock of her daughter. “A pregnancy hasn’t stuck yet, and you’re glad for it.”

Gloria huffed. “He has two kids already and I barely know how to interact with them—and they’re good. They’re sweet kids. But they know I’m not their mother, and he wants me to be.”

“Two kids? Why didn’t you bring them over?”

“I’m sure Anthony and Mary would love to watch their father get the third degree.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “Bring them over for dinner Friday night. We’ll behave. What do they like to eat?”

“About the same as me,” Gloria said. 

She watched in amusement as her mother stood up from the kitchen table, rushing over to take stock of what was in the refrigerator. The warm glow from inside the appliance highlighted the deep smile lines on Julia’s face and illuminated her excitement at the prospect of finally having children in the house again.

“I can make chicken cutlets and mashed potatoes. Maybe a nice Jell-O salad, too,” she mused aloud. “Then I can get a strawberry shortcake from the place up the street for dessert.”

“I gotta check with Michael, mom.”

“You love him?” she asked, as she closed the fridge, startling her daughter with the abrupt question.

Gloria struggled to find the words that would make her mother understand that she did, in fact, love her fiance, when saying as much did little to convince her father of it. “In Las Vegas—I didn’t see anyone for as long as I saw him. None of them were more than a few weeks, but with him, for years. Things have been so different since the engagement. I had a lot more fun loving him before all of this.”

“Love and marriage aren’t always the same thing, Glo. Most people only get one or the other.”

Except for Jack and Julia. Despite having gone to different high schools, they met their senior year at a multi-parish retreat that brought the city dwellers out to Long Island for a weekend. Their mutual admiration for St. Francis was the ice breaker that led to a bond over their shared idealism and passion for eliminating the inequality they saw so rampant in the city. For months, Jack and Julia were friends, crafting elaborate plans to change the world for the better. Neither remembered when exactly their friendship morphed into a romance, but by the winter of 1923, they were married. Less than a year later, Jackie was born, and changing the world was put on hold to raise a family.

“You and dad got both.”

“We got lucky,” Julia said, glancing in the direction of the stairway as they began to lightly creak. “Maybe we got too lucky, didn’t save enough for you.”

Michael and her father returned downstairs, both looking some degree of annoyed. Gloria almost thought they’d be leaving prematurely, but instead, Michael told her mother he was looking forward to lunch. Jack’s eye twitched ever so slightly.

They sat down at the circular kitchen table, Michael and Jack across from one another. Lunch was a simple pasta salad with antipasto that Julia set on the table. Gloria could hardly eat, waiting for the other shoe to drop and one of the men inevitably leap across the table and throw the first punch.

Instead, Michael was calm and collected as ever as he led most of the conversation, her father occasionally chiming in, but mostly eating in silence. Gloria was taken aback when Michael shifted his chair closer to her, resting his hand on her knee beneath the table. His affection was usually reserved for when they were alone. Then again, even without her father’s blessing, which she was sure Michael requested and was unequivocally withheld, they were a legitimate couple set to be married, no longer clandestinely meeting in hotel rooms.

Perhaps he wanted to prove as much, show them how seriously he took his relationship with their daughter despite Gloria already emphasizing it to them herself. 

After such intense conversations with her parents, lunch flew by, much to Gloria’s relief. As soon as she noticed her father becoming tense again, she mentioned Anthony and Mary, and both of her parents lit up at the prospect of having them over. She was grateful that for all that Michael had supposedly done, they didn’t hold any of it against his children. For their devout Catholicism, she found it interesting that the concept they had the most vocal opposition to was original sin, the idea that misdeeds are passed down, for each subsequent generation to shoulder and inevitably add on to. In their idealism, they believed people were inherently good and instead chose to do wrong because it was easy. 

Gloria felt exhausted by the time the meal was over, eyelids heavy when she and Michael got into the car.

“What did my dad say to you?” she asked, after he’d driven a few blocks away.

“You really wanna know?”

Gloria groaned. “Oh my god, was it really that bad?”

“He feels afraid and threatened right now. He’ll see reason soon enough,” he said. “Your mother’s more personable. She has the same sense of humor as you.”

“I can tell them we can’t do dinner Friday night.”

Michael shook his head. “It’s alright.”

“Really? After all that?”

“I know how much they mean to you.”

“You mean a lot to me,” she said, hesitant before adding, “and I’m embarrassed at how they treated you.”

“I wish my mother had more time to come around to you. She thought the family was changing too much by making you part of it.” His voice was quiet then, almost as if he were talking to himself. “Didn’t seem to matter that you’re Sicilian. That almost made it worse, like she expected more from you.” 

Gloria’s stomach dropped. She’d been unapologetically honest when speaking to his mother at the engagement party. They hardly interacted following that encounter, though Michael visited his mother often to check on her, especially as she became unable to visit their house. At the time, she’d chalked up his returning home distressed to Carmela’s failing health. She’d never considered some of it was because of her. Carmela already had made up her mind about Gloria before even meeting her, much like Jack about Michael, and Gloria merely confirmed her assumptions about her future daughter-in-law.

Calling herself a slut even in the context of outsider opinion just a few days earlier had triggered something in Michael. Undoubtedly Carmela, unimpressed with her son’s choice of a new bride, had thought the same of her and expressed as much to him. Bile rose in her throat. He shouldn’t have had to waste his breath defending her honor, or rather, lack thereof, to his sick mother, of all people. He could have let it go. She would have preferred he did. For how close the Marinos were, the Corleones were ten times that, and his taking up for her to the family matriarch, his own mother, made her head spin.

As her troubled gaze shifted to his profile, he reached over, taking her hand in his and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[sentenceme-leni]

Wednesday. Minimum 3 sentences.

---

To anyone else, the Cave of Wonders would indeed live up to its name. The piles of riches spread deep into the tunnels, mountains of gold and jewels with value beyond calculation.

Rumpelstiltskin pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to contain his anger. "All that fuss for this?"

At his side, Belle was equally disappointed. "You do make gold," she agreed, underwhelmed by their discovery.

The Dark Castle had similar sights, and she didn't need to spend days and nights studying a new language to access them.

The excitement of unearthing the password past the looming gate flickered out at the evidence that the vaunted treasure wasn't magical at all.

"I guess the Sultan will still owe us some favors in exchange," she told Rumpelstiltskin pragmatically. Outside the palace, Agrabah was very poor. The Sultan might boast great banquets and expensively dressed courtiers, but one visit into the city had opened Belle's eyes. "On the other hand, that foolish man will spend the whole before sharing a loaf of bread with his people."

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged.

He had no great regard for people in power, and it was a rare person that managed to impress him.

The Sultan, enamored of succulent dishes and easily distracted, had tried even Belle's patience.

"Perhaps we should give it to the people instead."

"A kind thought, my dear. But how do you suppose we keep His Majesty's goodwill if we cheat him off such profits."

They did need the Sultan's permission to continue their research. The hints about the treasures in the Cave of Wonders had proved useless; now they needed to hunt for new clues.

There was a source of great power in Agrabah, waiting to be harvested. It must have dark potential, as the fairies wouldn't have bothered to put a Savior in place otherwise.

With luck, it would grant Rumpelstiltskin passage into the Land Without Magic, or at least ensure that he would remember to search for Baelfire while under the Dark Curse.

"The Sultan is not evil." Just a man with too much power and too little sense. "Something that benefits his people will gladden him."

"His favorite advisor might not agree with that optimistic view."

Belle made a face.

After so many trips to different courts across across realms, always while escorted by the Dark One, a wizard involved in politics shouldn't have fazed her. However, she avoided Jafar as politely as she was able.

His magic didn't trouble her, as Rumpelstiltskin would make short work of him if required, but the greedy hunger behind Jafar's congenial facade was off-putting.

"He is still just an advisor."

Rumpelstiltskin grunted something that Belle chose to take as agreement.

"Come, Rumple." She reached for his hand. "We might as well tour around. Perhaps there is something worth adding to your vault."

A disdainful scoff answered her, but he still followed her further into the cave.

The End

01/05/24

[slythering-snake-boys]

It's Been Awhile Ch. 4

Characters: Sebastian Sallow x Reader/MC

Series Masterlist

Words: 3953

Warnings: fluffy fluff, some OCs, some cockblockers, Leander Slander

Taglist: @cloudroomblog

Sebastian was bouncing his leg as he drank another cup of Pumpkin Juice, brown eyes glued to the entrance. It had already been 20 minutes since he'd arrived and there was still no sign of you. He almost ignored whoever had taken a seat beside him until he heard his name being called. He'd recognise that voice anywhere.

The freckled man turned around in his seat, coming face to face with Ominis. He had grown taller than him and was a little paler than he remembered him, but he seemed to have gained some muscle and looked to be in good health. It felt quite awkward to suddenly be talking after all those years of radio silence. He cleared his throat before smiling tentatively.

"Oh... Hello, Ominis. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Indeed, neither have I. Not that I ever did, mind you." Sebastian guffawed before covering his mouth, seeing Ominis smirk. It reminded them of all those times when they'd gossip and laugh in the hallways between classes. "All jokes aside, how have you been?"

With that, the two of them talked. Tentatively and slightly awkwardly at first, but then they managed to get into a rhythm similar to when they were younger. They joked, laughed and even reminisced.

"I'm sorry for my behaviour at that time, Ominis. Truly." Sebastian said as he looked down into his cup with a sad smile. "You warned me and I'm sorry for not listening to you and MC. But you have to understand that at least in some regard, it was for Anne. I just wanted my twin sister to be back on her feet, healthy and with us." Ominis nodded. He'd also grown up and done a lot of thinking throughout the years, knowing that not everything was only good or only bad. Though he still believed the Dark Arts could push someone to become evil.

"I do understand your reasoning... I just wish you would have looked into other options before even thinking about the Dark Arts. But I understand."

"Thank you..." It was silent for a few seconds before Sebastian gulped. "So, any other news?" They both knew he was itching to ask about Anne. His voice tried to sound nonchalant, but they both knew better.

"Anne's okay, definitely better than before." Sebastian exhaled and deflated in obvious relief. "She's a fighter and she's lucky that the doctor who's monitoring her is well-versed in curses. From her letters, he's definitely helped her more than any other doctor before him." Sebastian nodded, thankful to know Anne was okay, even if she still refused to speak to him.

"Thank you, Ominis. I really appreciate you telling me this." His voice was quiet but sincere. Ominis was silent for a couple of seconds before talking quietly.

"She misses you. Despite everything. Tells me so in every letter." Sebastian only sighed before thanking him again. He missed Anne as well, but he would keep his distance if she wished him to, as much as it hurt him. "So? When are you going to get settled down?" Ominis' words made him almost choke on air before he turned to the blind man beside him.

"What?!" Sebastian almost screeched. He didn't, but his face got as red as a cherry. Ominis smirked, still knowing his best friend well enough to be able to tease him. "What are you talking about?" He almost hissed.

"I may be blind, Sebastian, but I can smell tension and sexual frustration from miles away. And you reek of it. I feel as if I'm back in fifth-year..." Ominis muttered as he shook his head in faux dejection.

"Sod off..." Ominis chuckled while Sebastian felt himself get even redder. It wasn't his fault he was still pining for you even after all those years. You were one of the very few who saw him in some of his most vulnerable moments and continued looking out for him and keeping him as safe as humanly possible, even after you'd stopped hanging out. You had been kinder than most he'd met throughout his life, doing things for others without any ulterior motive or expecting a reward. That's just who you were to him: kind, beautiful and perfect in his mind.

Sebastian glanced at the door just in time to see you walk in, dressed in fresh, clean clothes. You were looking around, somewhat nervous to see so many of your former classmates. Then you were swamped by friends, housemates and even a few current students. People were asking you questions, requesting your autograph, and you looked a little overwhelmed but happy to have so many faces surrounding you, both familiar and new. You were soon dragged to a large table by your friends and encircled by them, with Pumpkin Juice flowing and food appearing in front of you.

Sebastian watched with a fond smile as you stared at the plates filled to the brim with sparkling eyes, obviously hungry. He felt the same and his stomach reminded him so by growling. His cheeks turned rosy in embarrassment and he heard Ominis snicker from beside him before he playfully elbowed him in the ribs, making the blind man laugh a little more. Soon, most of the other seats were occupied and everyone started eating, a cacophony of laughter, chatter and utensils on plates filling the Great Hall.

He talked with Ominis and a few others, both from Slytherin and other Houses, laughing and talking about their current lives as adults. When there was a lull in the conversation, he glanced at you.

You were chewing slowly and looking up at the ceiling. Sebastian followed your gaze and watched as the enchanted ceiling, which was usually covered with floating candles, looked like a beautiful night sky. The twinkling stars and the few drifting clouds were a stark contrast to the depressing weather outside. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand and looked at the enchanted sky dreamily, unaware of his adoring staring or anyone else around you.

"Do you remember what that cluster of stars was called? The ones with the reflection nebulae?" You turned to your right, seeing Amit looking at you with a beaming smile as he ate beside you. You smiled back and hummed, looking up where he was pointing. It was a cluster of blue luminous stars with nebulae around some of them. You'd forgotten how beautiful the night sky could look and how much fun it was to look at it with your telescope.

"The Seven Sisters. I always searched for them when I had some time at night and I was out and about. All thanks to your telescope and your stories since fifth-year." Amit smiled and nodded, happy to know that you were still just as interested in the stars as he was. You continued to talk with him about his experience as a Hogwarts teacher until he got up to go to the restroom, at which point you finally glanced at Sebastian.

He was laughing as he told Ominis in particular about something before those around them also erupted into laughter, clapping and congratulating him. Sebastian laughed and smirked, happy to entertain others with his stories of the experiences he'd had as a Hit Wizard. You smiled fondly, relieved to see him and Ominis back on speaking terms, at least. They'd both grown and matured, enough to realise that they could try to be friends again.

Then he glanced at you and you froze, eyes wide and blinking in surprise at being caught staring before you felt your face and ears getting hotter. He smirked again and subtly winked at you, making you smile shyly before you waved back. A few others at his table looked at you and you quickly turned back to Amit as soon as he returned, asking him a few more questions to take their attention off you. Amit lit up and started speaking excitedly and gesticulating, engaging you in his story almost immediately.

When you'd all finished eating, some went to bed, others went outside to chat there, while a few others elected to linger in the Great Hall and talk some more.

You were left with Poppy, Natty and Imelda at the table, talking and laughing. You could see Sebastian and Ominis still at their own table, talking amongst themselves about something which seemed important.

"So, MC," Poppy's voice made you turn to regard her, "are you going to the Christmas dance with anyone?". She smiled while the other two watched.

"Oh, um, I don't know. I haven't thought about it yet. What about you?"

"I'm going with Samuel Fitzpatrick over there, from Ravenclaw. He asked me soon after it was announced here as well. He's a dragonologist, can you believe it? He's just returned from Finland where he oversaw the controlled breeding of an almost extinct species of dragon. Can't remember its name properly, unfortunately. It's in their native language." She seemed excited and you smiled, congratulating her. Then you looked at Natty who smiled proudly.

"I'm going with Robert Greyfield. He was in Hufflepuff. He told me he's a Lead Investigator, specialised in crimes against Muggles. He's already caught so many and plans on catching even more, especially those who hurt or kill Muggles for sport. We met at work when we had to deal with a few shared cases and when the reunion letter arrived, he sent me an owl to ask me to accompany him as his partner." You did remember Robert a little. Pretty shy guy, but apparently, there was something very brave about him that had attracted Natty. His job seemed to indicate as much. You all turned to Imelda, who only smirked.

"I'm not telling you guys a thing, so you can stop trying by now."

"Did anyone here ask you?" You asked.

"Or did you bring someone?" Poppy chimed in.

"You're going by yourself, right?" Natty asked as well, crossing her arms over her chest and smiling knowingly. Imelda said nothing and showed no reaction, the same infuriating grin still on her face.

"Not gonna work, I'm afraid." You blew a raspberry as you looked away in feigned frustration, making them laugh. "You'll see tomorrow." You three nodded at her words before you took a grape from one of the plates that still remained on the table. "Now, back to our star of the night." The three of them looked at you with grins and you swallowed the grape whole, gulping loudly and almost feeling like choking.

"I don't know, I told you. No one's asked me and I didn't ask anyone either..." You looked away, pouting a little. Now that you said it, it seemed almost pathetic.

"No one? Really? Cause I've had plenty of guys asking me if you were going with anyone." Imelda said with a wide smirk.

"Me, too."

"Same here. You're really popular and a lot of people would like to ask you to be their partner." Natty explained after Poppy, making you flush in embarrassment at being at the centre of attention...again.

You could remember all the love letters you'd received, especially after your fights with the poachers, Ashwinders and Ranrok's Loyalists. And even more started pouring in after the fights with Rookwood, Harlow and Ranrok. A few of your so-called admirers had sent Howlers and someone even sent you your favourite toffees laced with Amortentia. Luckily, you'd found it suspicious that they were just waiting for you on your bed after classes and decided not to eat them. Professor Sharp had helped you get rid of them and also discovered who had done it, having them properly punished for trying something so dangerous.

"They're all cowards if they don't have the guts to ask you directly, in my opinion." You chuckled at Imelda's jab towards your suitors. "Anyway, do you want to go alone? Or are you waiting for a certain Slytherin to make his move?" You blushed and looked down, eating another few grapes, just so you didn't have to answer anymore. Imelda smirked, glancing at Sebastian before resuming her staring at you.

"Imelda, stop being mean to her. Whether she wants to go with someone or not, it's her business. Stop pestering her." Poppy defended you, though she didn't mean it in a bad way towards Imelda. After all, they all knew of your past relationship with Sebastian but didn't know why you'd broken up. You had only told them that you had decided he was too immature then and you both had to grow up properly before attempting to be together again. But they could also see the way you were both looking at each other longingly when you knew the other wasn't looking.

"You don't have to go with anyone for that matter. We'll all be there." Natty squeezed your shoulder sympathetically.

"Yes, we'll probably ditch the guys at some point just so we can spend time together anyway." Poppy's words made you laugh and you nodded.

"If Imelda doesn't go with anyone, you can go with her."

"Nu-uh! Worst case scenario, Leander's going to ask her to go with him. Or any of the other cowards." Imelda then turned to you, looking a bit disgusted at what she'd just said. "No offence. But they've been eyeing you almost the entire night." You visibly winced, not wanting someone to go with you out of pity, but refusing to go with someone you had no interest in either. Especially Leander, who you just...couldn't really stand.

"Well, whatever, I guess we'll see tomorrow." You got up and stretched. "I'm beat. I'll see you guys in the morning, okay? Good night." The girls wished you good night as well before you left the Great Hall. You glanced at Sebastian, wanting to wish him a good night, but he was engaged in a deep conversation with Ominis and another classmate who'd joined them, so you decided to leave.

You bid a few of your former classmates good night as you passed by them before taking the stairs. You were a long way from the seventh floor. You could use Floo Powder to get there faster... But you felt like exercising a little to think was necessary. It was empty for the most part and quiet, which was perfect as you walked without even thinking, already knowing the way by heart.

"MC!" Just before you reached the second floor, a voice caught your attention. You turned around, only to see Sebastian running up to you. He stopped two steps below you, reaching your height as he smiled at you, looking just the slightest bit nervous and out of breath. "Are you turning in for the night already?"

"Yes, I'm really tired. I've had too much to talk about tonight and it's drained me completely. Sorry for not wishing you good night, but I saw you were talking and didn't want to disturb you." He chuckled along with you and shook his head, then looked at you.

"You can always come over and 'disturb' me. I don't mind, you know?" You chuckled and nodded, seeing him smile up at you warmly.

After a few seconds of silence and with a barely noticeable puff of his chest, Sebastian gathered the courage to slowly climb the other two steps, now standing right in front of you. There was a soft, but expectant smile on your face as you looked up at his form towering over you. Then, his hand went to the stone banister, the tips of his fingers nudging closer to your own. Your fingers subconsciously twitched, eager to feel more of his skin. You could feel the warmth he exuded and you only wanted to come closer.

"Can I...tire you out just a bit more by asking...if you'd do me the honour of accompanying me to the dance tomorrow night?" He asked in a quiet voice, his words for your ears only. You nodded eagerly and gave him a beaming smile while your eyes crinkled. Merlin, he loved that smile of yours - the one he knew meant you were genuinely happy about something. He hoped it was because of him.

"I'd love that." He grinned back, appearing cocky thanks to your answer. But you both knew he was just trying to mask his happiness so he wouldn't appear too eager - just in case anyone saw or heard you two. After all, he rarely wanted to appear vulnerable.

Your eyes went to his lips before going back to his brown eyes almost immediately, while his shamelessly remained glued to your mouth for a second longer. Then they almost reluctantly returned to gaze into yours, looking down at you through his long lashes as if contemplating if his next move was the right one. Sebastian finally decided on letting his hand cover yours completely before bending down a bit to be closer to your eye level. You lifted your head, lips parting and eager to touch his-

"If it isn't Sebastian Sallow and his little friend!" Sebastian allowed his body to dejectedly slump a little and hung his head, letting it thump gently against your shoulder. Your free hand went to his broad back, comfortingly rubbing it. He sighed loudly as you chuckled at his dramatic antics before looking up.

"Hi, Peeves. Haven't seen you in a long time." You said, hoping he'll leave the two of you alone for the night. The poltergeist was watching the two of you with a wide grin as he floated above.

"Little Sallowy loveeees to kiss MC! Mwah mwah!" Sebastian was shaking with impending anger already, from being interrupted for the third time that night, and turned around, getting his wand out. First Imelda, then Deek, now Peeves... He was close to ripping his hair out in clear frustration.

Peeves laughed and did cartwheels in the air, laughing madly. Sebastian still hadn't forgotten about the moment in the Library during your fifth-year when the mischievous poltergeist had ratted you out to Madam Scribner. Sebastian had gladly taken the fall for you then, opting to insist on having come alone since he knew how to deal with the old librarian. But now he was ready to get his revenge.

"Peeves, you damn-" Sebastian's stance was graceful as his hand moved, moments away from casting a spell. Your eyes widened, knowing that it would only serve to provoke Peeves even further.

"Sebastian, don't-"

"Glacius!" The spell missed and went right by Peeves, who only flew around like a maniac during a sugar rush while laughing loudly. Sebastian gritted his teeth, feeling you trying to calm him down. It might've worked, had Peeves not started getting even more on his nerves by taunting him.

"Ha! Can't catch me! Peevesy is too fast for you! Sloooooooow coach! Sloooooooow coach!" He tried again to hit the mischievous poltergeist with another spell, but was unable to as Peeves kept evading them or turned invisible. Sebastian was truly getting pissed off at the way the universe was getting in the way of him kissing you already, now apparently finding it hilarious to throw Peeves into the mix. Because why not, apparently?

"I swear to Merlin, Peeves, I'm gonna get the Bloody Baron if you don't come here!"

"Oooh, I'm so scared! You shouldn't even if you dared!" You could almost feel the tension rising. Peeves was about to do something to anger Sebastian even more and you knew you had to intervene.

"Hey, Peeves!" The poltergeist looked at you, ready to make you his target, before Sebastian got in front of you protectively, wand aimed at the offending poltergeist. Your head popped from behind Sebastian's shoulder, still looking up to make Peeves pay attention to you. "Did you know Leander is here as well? Heard him saying he wasn't scared of you anymore! Was bragging to everyone about it!" You saw Peeves' grin grow wider and more mischievous.

"Prewett is a scaredy cat! Peevesy will have to prove him that!" He disappeared through one of the staircases with a lasting burst of maniacal laughter and you both breathed a sigh of relief. Sebastian turned to you with a smirk as he put his wand back in his pocket.

"Leander said that?" You smiled nervously, feeling just the slightest bit bad.

"Maybe not..."

"You're such a bad girl, making Peeves go after Prewett... I expected better than that from you, MC." He continued smirking as he teased you and you felt your entire body flush, though you couldn't help smiling. Your hands flew to your face, covering it and groaning quietly, despite little giggles getting out. Sebastian chuckled before taking your hands off your face, holding them in his own. He was proud of your quick thinking. And it was even better that the infamous poltergeist's target would be someone neither of you really liked, for somewhat different reasons.

"I learned being like this from you, remember? You bad influence..." Sebastian chuckled and nodded in approval, feeling his chest warm up from your little jab at him.

"Fine, it's all my fault, I taught you how to be a rule-breaker. Happy?" You hummed, smiling when he pressed your hands to his lips to leave a few featherlight kisses. You gulped as his eyes stared into yours the whole time, the corner of his mouth going up in a knowing smile.

"Can you kiss me like that, too?" You asked quietly, feeling bold for a second. Maybe it was because you were tired or maybe you were sick of all this tension between the two of you. But you quickly realised what you'd said and went to retract your words when you saw Sebastian grin and nod. He surprised you when he let go of your hands to cup your cheeks instead. His thumbs swiped your cheekbones tenderly and you watched him, hands coming up to hold onto his wrists lightly.

"Do you really want me to?"

"I do... Do you?" With a twitch from the corner of his lips that made him smile even more, he leaned down and finally pressed his lips to yours hotly. It was almost as if he just didn't care anymore if there was anyone else around. He just wanted you. So badly.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the familiar feelings that seemed to rush in at the contact. You tried to focus on the good ones, coming closer to Sebastian as he did the same. He pushed you carefully until your lower back touched the stone banister and his hips kept you trapped there. One of his hands went to your hip, squeezing it while you pulled on his blazer to get him to lean down more. Your other hand went to the back of his head and played with the short strands of hair there, feeling how hot his skin was. Just as he was about to let his hands and lips indulge in your body some more, you both heard a high-pitched scream that made you two pull away and turn towards the source.

You saw Leander running away, with Peeves throwing what looked like juggling clubs at him. You felt bad, knowing it was because of you, although Sebastian only started laughing. But he stopped when Leander continued running straight towards the two of you, screaming for help (despite being in no real danger, except maybe a bruise or two).

Needless to say, you and Sebastian did your best to avoid getting hit by Peeves' clubs but had to eventually part ways so Peeves would have to choose only one of you three to pursue. Luckily, it was still Leander. You mentally apologised for what you'd done to him.

[potatomountain]

TLaM CH 7

“Steps”

mutant reader x human ateez

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: there will be potential triggers for anxiety and mental illnesses all throughout this story. Not all characters are nice at first.

AN: Sorry this took so long but here we go! i keep telling myself ill write longer chapters, but i guess its just not in it for me. Maybe when (if) i finish TLAM ill combine some chapters or perhaps when i get far enough ill do that when I move TLAM onto other platforms. Currently this is the only platform its on and only place to read it

a reminder a lot of the times i don't edit my works and that this is a slow burn, its going to take awhile for mc to meet and trust each of the eight but she’ll get there!

This is a work of fiction, in particular Fan fiction, and in no way is this a representation or an accurate depiction of ATEEZ or any other idols/people used for this work.

Any feedback is always appreciated and adored! Comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist <3

Masterlist

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> I'm just not afraid to speak the facts 🤭 <

> So did you head inside? <

> ??? <

> you aren't ignoring me now are you? <

> hey, is everything alright? <

> did you freak out and run? You can tell me if you did. <

> come on, at least reply. <

Staring down at the multiple messages from Jongho I was a bit shocked. It had taken me longer to calm down in the unfamiliar shower than I expected, and truthfully I had taken my time to dry off and pick up my phone once more. Nearly an hour had passed since my last message, and ten minutes since his which was simply my name.

I wasn't sure if this was a show of concern, was this how people showed concern? I would send him multiple messages in my own panic, but in the last few days Jongho would usually only ever reply with one message until I had responded. Even if it had been longer than an hour.

> No I didn't run, I was using one of their showers. I apologize I should have informed you rather than stop mid conversation like that. <

Setting the phone aside I sat up from the bed and finally began my search for my clothes. "Has to be here somewhere…" I managed half the articles of clothing before there was another string of texts.

> showers? They have showers? <

> never mind that, are you still there then? <

> are you alright? <

I frowned at the last message, my chest tight. Am I alright? He wasn't one of the doctors at the lab, my wellbeing shouldn't matter. He wasn't the first person to throw me off with such questions, as even Seonghwa had asked and shown concern during the last time I had been here, and even now.

I could not fathom why either of them would, or why my chest felt a bit warm that they were. 

> I am alright. It is a shelter, he allowed me to occupy a room to get my bearings together. Hot showers and steam in particular help my nerves. I haven't left the room yet. <

Part of me did not want to. Would that energetic man be down there? Would he show similar behavior as before, invading my personal space with no regard for his own safety? I did not want to harm him, yet I knew it was possible I would.

Seonghwa would show no concern then.

The thought jostled me enough that I dropped the hoodie I had just picked up. The loss of his kindness was an idea that filled me with dread and disappointment, followed by confusion. I was used to people being unkind to me, to treating me as I am: a monster. Why would I care if he does?

Because I needed this tavern? And needed it to work out for me? That seemed like a valid reason but it didn't exactly feel correct. 

Before I could overthink it, the soft ding of my phone drew my attention.

> So what is the plan now? <

That was a good question. Biting my lip I weighed my options. I was calm enough that I could attempt to socialize, or at least stay for tea and something to eat but… quickly my thoughts spiraled into what if's. What if they didn't want me here now? Did they think I was strange? Were they used to Typhon's like this? Would I be able to eat? 

> and don't overthink it. <

Jongho's message pulled me out of my head once again, the corners of my lips lifting. I was grateful he seemed to read me so well, up front and honest. I wasn't sure if I had shown enough gratitude for what he was doing. On impulse I sent a message, not bothering to look it over despite the anxiety that hit the second I hit send.

> if it's alright I would like to try a call later tonight or tomorrow. That is the next step, yes? <

Jongho was unusually quick to read and reply today, leaving me no time to unsend the message as the little “read” by the chat bubble popped up and further twisted the anxiety in my gut.

> Are you sure you are ready for that? <

The thing was, I wasn’t sure at all I was ready at all. I wanted nothing more than to go home and exist in those four walls alone, letting the rest of the world forget I existed. I wanted San gone and my safe space back, life was simpler like that. But… It was lonely. Talking with Jongho, even over the texts, had pulled a veil off my eyes to my situation and my true thoughts and feelings on the matter.

It was easier to be alone, yet it was painful. Being aware of that now, knowing what caused the constant cold sting in my chest, made it that much more unbearable. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, I wanted what I saw in the humans around me so often: Family, friends, laughter and joy brought out by those around them.

Love.

The realization hit like a cold shower, limbs a bit weak so I sat down. Was that perhaps what I wanted here? The idea was to have this be a safe space I could go to, as well as learn to communicate so I could co-exist with San in my home without the constant strain of nerves. Those two things were not something I could get by doing what I was comfortable with, if so I wouldn’t have stayed to calm down or even think about staying longer to attempt to socialize.

It was no longer a matter of what I was ready for, or what I could handle, but a matter of how far I had to push myself. No more did I want to waste away in a pile of blankets oblivious to the rest of the world, no matter how much I felt that was what I deserved.

> I trust you Jongho, I want to learn the next step. <

Winning this battle with myself was only one small step; stepping out of this room and confronting Seonghwa and the new human was a larger step and the true next step I needed to take. That just made it all the more overwhelming. 

> Then tell me when you get home, and if you feel up to it I’ll call. If not, we can do so tomorrow, I can call in between classes. <

Right… Jongho was a college student studying music theory. When I first found out that little fact about him I was taken aback, part of me expecting him to follow his father’s footsteps; but it seemed Jongho enjoyed singing. I still didn’t know enough about him to imagine that, but I would like to someday see it. 

> Alright. I’m going to leave the room now, talk to you later. <

I ended the conversation there, stood back up and pulled my hoodie back on, leaving the room before I lost the courage to do so. I was both relieved and nervous to see the empty hall, taking a second to really take in the number of rooms there were; roughly four to my left towards the front of the building, with three to my right and stairs up one more floor. Each door seemed thick, a keypad next to each. It reminded me of the rooms back at my father’s lab, although those felt more like cells. Only because I had just left one of the rooms did I know they were not the same. While the room was simple, nothing more than a bed, tv, desk, mini fridge and the bathroom; it did not feel like a cell at all, but a cozy place to make your own. The bare bones needed and yet it was more than those too bright cells could ever be. Remembering Seonghwa’s words when he had led me to the room, I debated on where to go. He had given me the option to roam and explore, but I felt as if I had enough surprises for one day. I headed downstairs for the kitchen then, the smell of something delicious filling my nose and grumbling my stomach in response. I hadn’t eaten today and it felt wrong to leave without acting like a proper patron and purchasing something; even if Seonghwa had made it clear that it wasn't a requirement. However I was surprised to find the ground floor empty and quiet, glancing around the hall to find no one around. The door to the kitchen was shut, but I couldn’t hear anyone on the other side despite the smell of meat coming through the door. I stood frozen on the last step, listening for any sign of life, using my heightened senses to the best of my ability. But it was only a slight difference, not enough to really sense anyone’s breathing or presence. 

I was listening so intently the click of the door across from the stairs startled me back, tripping over the stair behind me and my butt falling onto the stairs at an awkward angle. Whimpering as pain shot up my back, I looked up to find an unfamiliar face in the doorway, our eyes locking and his seemingly nonchalant expression twisted with just a bit of shock and concern. The tumble I took on the stairs was enough to stir movement elsewhere, but it was the unfamiliar man’s deep voice that drew more attention.

“Are you alright?” He shut the door behind him and moved around the desk just as Seonghwa emerged from the kitchen with the red haired man poking his head up behind him. Before the newcomer could approach any further, Seonghwa was holding up his hand to stop him and taking a step closer but not too close.

“That’s Yeosang, he handles the security here. Did you hurt yourself?” The introduction eased some anxiety, but the fall on my rear had jostled the nerves on my back enough to make tears spring in my eyes. “Blue, where does it hurt?” I don’t know how he did it, how he knew just what to ask or say to ease my anxiety, or how he managed to read me like this but it was comforting. Quickly wiping away the blue tears, I pulled myself up a bit weakly, a hand moving to my back. “My back is… more sensitive than the rest of me so the fall hurt a bit. I was just startled, nothing else is wrong.” 

Seonghwa sighed with relief, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Then if you’d like to sit down, Wooyoung made you something to eat and I have the tea ready for you. Is that alright?” My stomach’s rumble answered for me and I could feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment. Nodding, I stepped down and kept my head lowered as I made my way to the lounge and spotted the familiar table I had sat at before. It was still the best option for my back so I sat there once more, looking around and finding myself alone.

For a Typhon shelter, I couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or not that it seemed so empty each time I’ve been here. It was comforting to say the least, less people around so less new things and people to be anxious about. But also, the lack of people was somewhat eerie. For how welcoming this place seemed, there didn’t seem to be many people who wanted to be here.

Before I could over think it further Seonghwa stepped in with a tray, setting it down on the table and taking a step back for space. Not that I paid attention to anything other than the meat dish and tea pot, more primal instincts winning over my other senses.

Still not wanting to be rude however, I bowed my head a bit. “Thank you Seonghwa, it looks delicious.”

“My pleasure Blue. Would you like us to leave you alone to eat or-”

“Yes please. But um…” I looked up, spotting the two other humans watching around the wall behind Seonghwa. “I feel like I got off on the wrong foot, with all three of you now. I want to apologize for my rude behavior and the distress I’ve caused you, and thank you again for your care.” The words felt heavy on my tongue, but it lifted a weight off my shoulder, making it easy to continue through the doors they opened. “I would like to… I mean I hope you wouldn’t mind but I- Well you see…” Okay, not as easy as I would like.

Noticing my distress as usual, Seonghwa offered a reassuring smile. “We can continue this after you've eaten if you like?”

Nodding, I motioned to the two behind him. “All three of you?” Seonghwa turned in time to see Wooyoung dart away but Yeosang seemed to remain with an unreadable expression, giving a half wave.

“I am fine with that, are you Yeosang?”

The man shook his head, stepping more into the archway without entering the room and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Truthfully I don’t think it's my place. I don’t want to scare her more than I have, not with how nervous she already is thanks to the idiot.” “True true. Then will you stay for my sake? Help me keep said idiot in check? I don’t think she would find the way I tend to handle him relaxing at all.”

“You… have a point. Very well.”

Seonghwa turned back to me as I was taking a sip of the tea, a softness to his features. “I’ll let you eat for now, just call out when you’re ready to talk.”

With a nod I watched him head out, only to call out before he completely disappeared from sight. With as much courage as I could muster, I thought of all the kindness and care he had shown, how he had done his best to ease my worries and make me comfortable every second that I have been here: both times. It warmed my chest, tingled my nerves, and I found myself genuinely smiling. “Thank you, for everything. I think I am glad to have met you at least.”

His eyes went wide as saucers, mouth agape as he floundered like a fish for words. I found the expression a bit humorous, but otherwise turned my attention to the food. I had said what I wanted to say, and my stomach demanded to be fed with no more interruptions.

The first bite was heavenly, and when I looked up to once again offer thanks, I was alone.

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[bluegekk0]

After saying that Lady Dimitrescu was an inspiration for WL, now I am imagining WL saying some of her voice lines and it is hilarious since almost every depiction of her is extremely passive and not aggressive. Here are some of them:

"Quiet now, child! Adults are talking.", "Rest while you can, because I will hunt you, and I will break you!", "Ugh, just another simple little manthing.", "You've dirtied my dress."

Would WL be less explicit and more passive than Lady Dimitrescu? I would imagine so cause if WL was more aggressive, Grimm would have enacted and tried to get FPK out of the relationship.

She's cold and stern, she'll reprimand you for doing something inappropriate and making yourself (and her) look bad, but she's not aggressive, she does it in a very calm manner. She won't yell at you, she rarely raises her voice, but her brutally honest words can still hurt like a blade.

Using Vyrm as an example, he's naturally shy and tends to stutter when speaking publicly, but she'd push him to do it regardless, and if he embarrassed himself, she wouldn't keep her opinion to herself. In her eyes, it was criticism meant to help him improve, but her approach was anything but helpful and only made him feel more self-conscious. If he dressed or behaved inappropriately, she'd scold him (in a formal way, but still), and rarely sincerely complemented him whenever he did something well. Just a simple nod and "good" was what he could expect from her.

But she never raised her voice at him, and she never, ever used violence against him, or suggest anything of that sort. She even called him "dear husband" and other similar names, suggesting that she did actually love him. But on a day-to-day basis, her words really hurt him, and her strict personality made him feel like he was never doing enough and that he had to do better.

She was never aggressive, but the way she expressed her disapproval gave her a very intimidating aura that made everyone around her try their best to not upset her, and in Vyrm's case, it really messed up his self-esteem. She was like a very strict mother, basically. Seemingly never happy, and always storing comments that make you feel like the most horrible individual up her sleeve.

At the current time of the AU, she's trying to be a bit softer, she keeps her comments to herself and attempts to be more welcoming. But it's noticeably only something she does when interacting with Vyrm and his family. To her court and any outsiders, she's as mean and intimidating as before. But I think in that regard it's not really a behavior worthy of criticism, at least not as much - she has to maintain her position, after all. At least she's putting effort into being more pleasant on a more personal level, though she still has a long way to go.

[deci-doodles]

So uh. More parents when they were younger, yay (Tartaglia edition this time)

Mother’s Oksana (did this one recently, she’s supposed to have a crown braid) and the dad’s Serhii (doodle from December oof)

Rambles under the cut as per usual

Aight SO:

Oksana Fedorivna Neschadymenko (Оксана Федорівна Нещадименко, née Kalashnyk/Калашник)

- actually p shy and introverted, can be p sensitive and sentimental at times too

- lived in Morepesok her whole life, her family settled there some time ago during its heyday

- she’s the middle child and has two brothers (an older one name Myroslav who’s moved to the city and has three daughters, and a younger one named Anatoliy who stayed and has five kids), her younger brother and her parents don’t live too far away from her and Serhii’s home

- nowadays she just wishes her kids would all come home more often since she worries about them so much and wants to make sure they’re ok

- she’s always been more on the stereotypically feminine side (being quite capable at the loom, embroidery, cooking, etc, I mean hell, she handmade nearly all the kids’ clothes before they started earning their own incomes*, probs still does even with Ajax’s harbinger money), when Kirena was young she probably tried to encourage her to play with dolls more often than playing in trees, but that didn’t work and she was too soft when it heavily upset Kirena so she didn’t push it further

*keep in mind this would’ve been the necessity for a lot of peasants especially but idk how similar Snezhnaya is gonna be in terms of wealth disparity and stuff. Traditional dowries also consisted of rushnyky and embroidered shirts to show one’s prowess but regardless, Oksana enjoys spending her time at the loom and with her thread and needle

-

Serhii Mykhailovych Neschadymenko (Сергій Михайлович Нещадименко):

- is actually the extroverted one lmao

- was abandoned as a baby and raised in a Cossack monastery, but ultimately became an adventurer to find somewhere he felt he belonged. As a result he was extremely pious, but over the years has become more and more disillusioned with the Tsaritsa following the Ajax shenanigans

- came across Morepesok by accident, ended up courting Oksana and settling down there permanently

- Jack of all trades since he picked up various skills on his travels (he can fight with his twin shashka, sing, dance, play bandura, etc), but nowadays he’s mainly tending to his own garden and does beekeeping since his health isn’t as great as it used to be

- his basic view regarding his kids is that they’re free to choose their own paths and do as they please so he’s probably the more laidback parent in comparison, but he wants them to at least look out for one another

- his biggest regret is sending Ajax to the Fatui

-

I think both of them have accepted that they can’t change what happened but there’s still a lot of regrets over how they handled everything with Ajax (I won’t go into full details of that yet since uh, currently working on a fic ehe), that and there really isn’t much they can do now. Also like, I need to emphasise that they’re country folk from a small village in a fantasy world, there is a lot they probably wouldn’t understand compared to what we would know now lmao

But before all of that they’re basically that one couple who seemed to have a romance that came straight out of a fairytale and doted on their children. They could’ve continued what was basically a cottagecore dream too if Ajax didn’t end up wandering off