#but i need to learn to care less and be less scared about my art or something like that idk

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

i don't remember if i posted last year's version of this one or not. i wouldn't be surprised if i didn't because i didn't actually have a piece for every month of the year. it feels nice to have a completed board this year, though

[spiceofvy]

Hihi! I have a request. Can I have a skz headcannon when their dick doesn’t fit. Ty!

SKZ - When their dick doesn't fit

cws: gender neutral reader, nsfw, bottom reader, dirty talk, mentions of reader potentially getting hurt, foreplay, fingering, aftercare, corruption kink (Chan), mentioned overstimulation (Minho), praise (Changbin, Hyunjin), slight degradation (Seungmin)

Chan: So cocky. Like really fucking cocky. His corruption kink going brrr. "Oh it doesn't fit? Poor baby never had something big like this inside huh?" Of course he would never try to force anything, knowing that it could hurt you. But man does it give you a confidence boost. Maybe jerks off on your body to "spare you". Cocky boy.

Minho: "Doesn't fit? Well guess I need to loosen your muscles then." And then overstimulates you until you are loose enough for him. Carefully prepping you with his fingers stretching you slowly. Definitely has a bit of a power trip while doing so. So so much aftercare afterwards. Talks you through everything he does and checks in with you the whole time.

Changbin: Also cocky, not as much as Chan but still a good bit, tries to show it less though. Prepares you softly for him, whispering some sweet praise into your ear. Asks you twice if you really feel ready. Very slow, very sweet. "Look how good you take me. Feeling so good on my dick, squeezing me just like that." Very confident in his game.

Hyunjin: Honestly? This is like his number one fear for him. He is so scared of hurting you, that he always goes extra slow. Prepping you twice. Praises you so much during it, "you are doing so well for me my love. So perfect, so beautiful for me." But he is also cool with the two of you getting each other off in different ways when there really should be problems with penetration.

Han: "Wait, are you serious?" Was 100% sure that that is just some porn cliche. Could come on the spot when you tell him. After he understands the issue he gets super super worried about you being hurt, so he definitely is extra careful. But in between his worries, he would totally ask you to record an audio of you saying how big his dick is.

Felix: Oh no! He is so worried about hurting you. After the first "failed" attempt he would prefer to have sex without penetration. it would just make him more comfortable and would ease his mind a lot. Should you try again he would ask you to be on top so you can control the speed and angle that he is entering you in. "It's okay love, go slow. We have all the time you need."

Seungmin: Another cocky motherfucker. Teases you about it every time you have sex. "Are you sure you're trying hard enough? Does my spoiled darling really believe that it's that easy to take my dick?" Lots of aftercare afterward. Praising you and massaging your body all over. Making sure that he didn't push too much or made you uncomfortable.

Jeongin: With big dick comes big responsibility. And he has no idea what to do with it. But is very willing to learn. So he googles, gets scared about hurting you, and masters the art of fingering. And becomes like really fucking good, no need for his dick. But after some time he still wants to try, so he is preparing you with his amazing fingers, and then goes really slow on you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to go slower?"

[podcastenthusiast]

"Here should be safe to set up camp," Geralt says, scanning the treeline with his eyes in that odd witcher way. Like he's seeing much more than a mere mortal could.

"Thank the gods," sighs Jaskier, who's been really starting to regret skiving off those physical fitness courses at Oxenfurt.

"Get a fire started while I tend to Roach."

"Oh Geralt, I'd love to, I would. Truly it's colder than a sorceress' shapely—"

"Jaskier."

"Well, as they say: you can lead a bard to timber, but you can't make him—"

"Just do it, Jaskier."

"I don't know how! All right? I've never built a fire in the middle of nowhere before! It's not one of the seven liberal arts, and I much prefer my fires stoked by comely barmaids in taverns."

Geralt looks at him for a long moment. It's a complicated look—frustration and amusement and a hint of regret. Mostly it's a look that says Jaskier is an idiot for joining him on the Path.

"Right," Geralt says slowly. He begins building the campfire himself.

"I imagine they teach wilderness survival to baby witchers at witcher school."

Geralt looks at him again and there's something different in his expression. The ghost of a smile? Jaskier doesn't quite know how to read it.

"Kaer Morhen," he says. "And yeah. Something like that."

"Oh?" Jaskier has to rein in his enthusiasm, his curious questions. Geralt so rarely reveals anything personal about himself or his past. Not that Jaskier has been forthcoming in that regard either. They live in the moment, day by day, but some context would help his creative process.

Besides all that, he genuinely wants to get to know Geralt a little better.

"Vesemir took me out into the forest one day. Gave me a knife and left me there for a month."

There is no bitterness in his words. If anything, the witcher sounds...almost fond. Nostalgic. Proud of his younger self for overcoming the challenges his mentors set before him.

It takes a moment for the true meaning of that to sink in and, once it does, Jaskier is horrified. His own parents weren't great, but even they would never simply abandon him.

"He just— like as a test— what—?"

"Real eloquent, bard. I doubt he had any choice. Probably wasn't even supposed to give me anything."

"How old were you?" he demands, unsure if any answer will make this revelation less abhorrent.

"Six? Seven? Maybe eight. I don't know." Geralt makes a gesture with his fingers and the pile of wood beneath his hand sparks with flame. "Not old enough to have learned Igni yet."

He can picture it, too, so vividly. Curse his dammed artist's imagination. Geralt, just a kid, alone and scared and definitely cold—because no one bothered to teach him how to start a fire.

"Stop it," the witcher snaps.

"What?"

"Looking at me like that. I'm fine. I was fine back then. Wasn't so bad at all compared to the Grasses. Vesemir came back for me like he said he would. I survived the trial—no, I didn't just survive; I exceeded all expectations, which is why they..." The witcher trails off. Takes a breath.

All of that... It's quite a lot of words for Geralt. Honest words, even.

It's his job to talk, to sing, to commit the most painful and difficult experiences to beautiful poetic verse. But Jaskier doesn't know what to say to his friend right now. Surely he has to say something.

"Geralt..."

"Don't waste your pity. Save it for the ones who didn't make it through. I did."

"Okay," the bard replies, careful and tentative. He isn't a brave man, nor a particularly kind one. But Jaskier considers himself an honest fellow so he adds, "Just because you made it through, you know, that doesn't mean what happened to you was all right, Geralt. Children aren't supposed to be left alone to fend for themselves."

The witcher laughs—a humorless, wretched sound. He doesn't say anything at all to that. Which is okay, really; Jaskier just needed him to hear it.

There is a long silence. The fire crackles. Jaskier absently strums his lute.

"You're gonna write a ballad about this, aren't you," Geralt says after a while.

"No!" Maybe. Yes. He won't perform it.

"Hm."

The fire crackles.

Quite out of the blue, Geralt tells him, "I befriended a wolf back then."

"What? You're joking!"

"Witchers don't have a sense of humor. Common knowledge."

"Common misconception. Most people are just stupid. No, hang on, stop distracting me—You had a pet wolf?!"

"Not a pet," the witcher corrects, smiling faintly. "Fangtooth was her own wolf."

"Fangtooth?" Jaskier repeats, struggling to contain his amusement. "Not Roach?"

"No."

"Forgive me, but that's adorable."

"I was just a child. I wanted to stay with her in the wilderness. Be a wolf, too. Or a knight." He shakes his head dismissively. Silly childish dreams.

"But you didn't," Jaskier says. And feels stupid for saying something so obvious.

"Too late for that," Geralt replies without reproach. "I was already a witcher."

"As a child, I wanted to run away and join the circus," the bard offers.

"Of course you did."

They're quiet for a moment then. Comfortable, shared silence. Just the sounds of birds and forest creatures, and Roach contentedly eating grass. The fire crackles.

"Geralt, will you teach me to light a fire? Without witcher magic, obviously, since I don't have any."

"Why?"

"Because...well, because I could be a more useful traveling companion. Like Fangtooth must've been."

"...Fine," Geralt agrees after some thought.

It is a skill he will be very grateful to have on freezing nights in the coming years, especially whenever the witcher is too injured or ill from those dreadful potions to help set up camp. He will try not to think of the child Geralt once was, subjected to horrific tests of his ability to survive all on his own.

Except he hadn't been on his own back then, not completely. And he isn't alone anymore, either.

[silentglassbreak]

What if the reader and Noah have been training together with Ash, doing kickboxing and all that. They haven't hung out together, but one day, Noah invites the reader over. They find out that they have more in common than they realize.

You can make this cute, romantic, fluff, smutty...you do you :)

Ahhh mi mayor amor, this ask holds a special place in my heart. I trained martial arts for a long time. This sounds like a lot of fun. Now, I will forewarn you, I’ve never done a reader perspective fic before. I’m nervous. The Y/N thing scares me, but I’m going to take a crack at it. Honest feedback is appreciated! After writing notes: I'm so FUCKING evil. :)

Ratings: Explicit

Warnings: Hehehehehe.......

Vices

“Damn it!” My hand tapped the leg cinched around my throat, my mouth guard nearly choking me as I struggled.

The grip loosened and I rolled backward over my head, fist punching the mat beneath me. The Dutch braids my hair was in was faltering, and I stared at the man in front of me.

“What the fuck am I doing wrong?!”

“Calm down, Y/N. You’re going to get this.” Ash, despite being covered in a thin layer of sweat, was smiling warm at me, trying to calm my frustration.

“We’ve been at this for twenty fucking minutes, dude! I keep getting locked the fuck up!” My hands gestured in front of me, my backside rested on my heels.

“You’ve only been doing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for three months. You’re still learning. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He moved to stand. “You want to take a break?”

I stood as well, leaning down into my stance. “No. Let’s go again.”

Ash quirked a brow, defeated, and shook his head, bending down as well. Before I could reach for him, a voice echoed from behind me, disrupting my focus.

“You’re too tense. You need to shake off some of that rage you got there, doll.”

I snapped my head over, inadvertently whipping myself in the mouth with the end of my braid.

Noah stood, tall and sweaty, leaning against one of the heavy punching bags lining the back wall of the room. A towel was draped over his left shoulder, his water bottle in his hand. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“If I wanted your opinion, dick, I would’ve asked for it.”

He threw his hands up defensively. “Just trying to help.”

Scoffing, I turned back around to ready myself. “Sure. I believe that.”

If there was anyone in this gym that I considered a nemesis, it was Noah ‘Dickwad’ Sebastian. I couldn’t fucking stand him. He was arrogant, unbearably fucking tall, and insanely fucking irritating.

We met for the first time when I joined the gym three months ago. He had been training here only six months longer than I, and from the beginning, he was constantly poking a fucking stick at me. It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t fucking care.

I learned through whispers in the gym that he was in a band, so when I googled him and learned what he did for a living, I wasn’t impressed in the slightest.

So what if he could sing? Didn’t make him any less intolerable. He wouldn’t sing too well if I stuck my foot down his throat, anyway.

Had I added a few of his songs to my workout playlist? Maybe. That's beside the point.

Ash wrapped me up in the arm bar yet again, my wrist screaming at me to tap out before it snapped in two. My fingers tapped his leg, and he released me.

“Alright Fireball, that’s enough for one day.” He stood, walking over to his corner where he kept his bag and water.

I noticed Noah had left, so I relaxed, straightening my shirt and making my way over to my own bag next to Ash.

“What am I doing wrong, dude? Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Honestly? You’re just off right now. Did something happen today?”

Rolling my eyes, I sprayed water into my mouth. “My bitch of a mother called me this morning.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That angered you?” His question was sincere. I didn’t share a lot about my personal life with my gym mates.

“It did.” Was all I gave before I slung my bag over my shoulder and slipped my slides on.

He nodded in approval. “Trying to train angry never works. It makes you unfocused. That’s why we do breathing exercises beforehand.” He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Try to let it go. We’ll work on it more tomorrow.”

His words calmed my fried nerves ever so slightly, and I grinned at him.

“Thanks Ash. I’ll see you then.”

-

Life really fucking blows sometimes. The last week had been a shit show and a half, and I was exhausted. I hadn’t been back to the gym because work had kept me busy, then I got rear-ended, totaling my ‘98 Corolla, and had been dodging calls from my Mom every hour like clockwork.

Needless to say, when I stepped foot into the gym, the smell of perspiration and mat cleaner was like a breath of fresh air.

My eyes searched, noticing an unfamiliar class going. I spotted Ash, whose eyes flashed over to me before he halted his spar, and jogged over.

“Hey, you okay? Haven’t seen you in over a week.”

I nodded. “Rough few days, but I’m good now.”

He smiled, but a look of concern crossed his face.

“Gosh, Y/N, I’m sorry, but we’re not running regular classes this week. There’s a tournament on the weekend, we’ve got to train our competitors.”

My mood fell, my shoulders going with it. I needed the relief. I needed to train.

Ash saw my eyes, and a sympathetic look crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

I shook my head, waving a hand. “No, no. That’s okay. I totally understand.”

He chewed the inside of his lip, peering around the room. A sly smile perked up on his lips.

“Come here.” He motioned for me to follow, which I did, kicking my sandals off before entering the mat, giving a quick bow.

When we rounded the corner into the back of the gym, my feet halted just before the line of bags. Only one person was there, gloves and shin guards on, practicing his combinations.

Oh hell no.

“Y/N, why don’t you spar with Noah?”

My jaw dropped as he stopped mid-hook, pulling an earbud out. “What’s up?”

His chestnut brown hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes were widened slightly. I suddenly felt very exposed, only in a sports bra and fitness leggings.

“Would you be willing to spar with Y/N?”

Noah’s eyes made a show of looking me up and down, a devious grin creeping over his face.

“Oh, of course.”

I snorted, looking at Ash. “Are you insane?”

He shrugged. “You’re my only two not competing. It gives you a way to train.”

Holding up a hand toward Noah, my voice raised several octaves. “How am I supposed to spar with him?! He’s a fucking tree!” I motioned to my own height. “I’m only five fucking three!”

Ash’s eyes narrowed at me, clearly not amused with my tantrum.

“Listen, this is the only solution I have for you this week. If you don’t want to, totally fine.” He interlocked his fingers. “But I think it would be good for you.” He glanced between us. “Both of you.”

And just like that, he left.

Noah stared at me now, waiting for my decision. I just shook my head and snarled. “Fuck this.”

Turning to leave, I heard his voice call after me. “Yeah, figured you’d be too scared.”

I froze mid-step, craning my neck to look back at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I get it. I’m intimidating.” He was unhooking his shin guards, tossing them to the side.

“Are you, now?” I turned back around, arms crossing over my chest.

His gloves went next, falling next to his bag. “Obviously.”

“You’re way out of my weight class, Noah.”

He smirked. “Calling me fat?”

I rolled my eyes. What a fucking douche.

“You have an unfair advantage with your long noodle limbs.”

He sucked his teeth, taking a short drink of water. “Having fun insulting me today, huh?”

“Doesn’t change the circumstance.”

“You joined martial arts for self defense, right?”

I jutted my hip out. “So?”

He set down his bottle, running long tattooed fingers through his damp hair.

“So, you think every attacker is going to be the same size and weight as you?”

This gave me pause. He had a point.

I let my bag fall casually off my shoulder, holding my arms up in defeat.

“Fine.” I stepped forward to the middle of the mat. “You want to spar? Let’s do it.”

His eyes sparkled, which made my breath catch for a second, as he walked over to me.

His long form bowed forward as I did, before we bent down in our stance.

It was as I expected; infuriating.

His arms could nearly wrap me around twice. His legs were surprisingly strong, his thighs much more muscular than I had originally anticipated. I kept having to tap, which was making me angrier with each match.

“This is bullshit!”

He hopped on the mat, keeping his blood flowing. “You’re overthinking it. Going rigid.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Fuck that. I’m just too fucking small for this.”

He shook his head, eyes locked on my face. “You’re not. You need to let go. Quit thinking about it so hard.”

We restarted, and I let his words soak in. Feeling my heart beating, my lungs breathing, I let my body instinctively take over. Noah’s thighs wrapped around my waist, but I managed to wrap and arm between them, breaking his grip. Before I could celebrate my victory, he wrapped an arm around my neck, holding me in a reverse choke.

I had to stop and think. Lifting my arm, I found his neck, and locked in tight, causing him to double over, and his arm to slip.

I flipped away from him and stood back up, hands out and waiting. He grabbed me, but I was faster, sprawling low and taking out his right leg before wrapping his ankle in a crushing grip.

I felt his fingers tap my leg three times, and released him, squealing in excitement.

Jumping to my feet, I clapped my hands together, smiling wildly.

“I fucking did it!”

He laid flat on the mat, breathing heavily, and gave me a weak thumbs up. I stood over him, bent at the waist, and smiled as sugary as possible.

“You okay Daddy Long Legs?”

He lowered his eyebrows and licked his lips. “I like when you call me Daddy.”

Snickering, I stood up, reaching a hand out for him to use to stand up. Once on his feet, he padded over to his water bottle.

It had already been an hour, when I had the sense to check the time.

“Damn, I’ve got to get home. The cat needs to be fed.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Same time tomorrow?”

I smirked, shouldering my bag. “If you’re not too scared.”3

-

After three training sessions with Noah, I could feel my perspective of him begin to change ever so subtly. Sure, he was still a perverted douche, but he was also a really dedicated sparring partner. He was always on time, he was interested in my progress, and gave some pretty honest feedback about my technique.

Did I hate seeing him every day? No. Not exactly. I didn’t want to go as far as to say I enjoyed his company, but maybe I wore my nicer sports bras to the gym? Maybe my braids were pulled a little tighter because he was rough with them? Maybe I wore a light mist of body spray before I got there?

Maybe.

So, to my disappointment, come Wednesday, our fourth day training together, he wasn’t already there when I walked in. My face fell when I rounded the corner, expecting to catch him warming up on the bag. I had come to look forward to our banter back and forth prior to training. I also looked forward to watching him hit the bag, but I knew that was just because of his form. It was…exceptional.

Considering he could be stuck in traffic, or had a prior engagement, I decided to start warming up without him.

I made quick work of wrapping my hands and slipping my gloves on before starting my music and assaulting the bag in front of me. I let my mind wander while I pushed each combination out, using my emotions to channel the force.

Before I realized, I had listened to nearly half of my workout playlist, and there was still no sign of him. My head glanced around, and a deep feeling settled on my chest.

As much as I didn’t like the guy, it would’ve been nice for him to mention he wasn’t coming today. When I saw him yesterday, he didn’t say anything about skipping today. I couldn’t ask him myself. I didn’t know his number or any way to reach him.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the irritation, I stepped back from my bag, and began removing my gloves, tucking them back into my bag. As I did so, a flash flew by my peripheral vision, and I stood straight, noticing him.

Noah had walked - no, stomped on to the mat, flung his bag down, earbuds already in and blasting loudly in his ears, and hastily grabbed his gloves out, slipping them on.

I just stood, staring at him, leaning against my respective bag. He paid me no attention, not even glancing in my direction. Something had him pissed. His face had turned a harsh shade of crimson, only darkening as he went at the bag, his voice letting out sharp exclamations every so often.

Carefully, I took three steps closer, touching the bag next to him, eyes searching all over for a sign of what made him so angry. What had happened? Noah was one of the coolest cucumbers I had met in a long time, never bothered by seemingly anything.

Who had hurt him?

Deciding to chance it, knowing he couldn’t hear me, I let my fingers lightly touch the bag he punched during one of his ten second breaks.

For the first time, his eyes looked at me, and were almost black with the rage they held. It made me startle, my eyes widening.

“Noah?”

He rubbed at his ear with his glove, making one earbud fall out. “Not today, Y/N.”

His words didn’t leave room for pressure or questions.

Unfortunately for him, I’m not one to heed a warning.

Narrowing my eyes, I took a step forward as he raised his gloves again, standing between him and the bag still swaying.

His shoulders tensed, and he lowered his gloves, glaring at me.

“Move.”

I crossed my arms, and raised an eyebrow.

“Or what?”

“Or I will move you.”

Pursing my lips, I contemplated this. He could, if he wanted to.

“No.”

“Y/N, I’m not asking.” His voice was deadly.

“I’m not moving. Not until you talk to me.”

He furrowed his brow, incredulous. “About what?”

“What has you so upset?”

He bared his teeth, irritation rising. “Since when do we talk? You don’t even like me.”

Uncrossing my arms and opening myself a bit to show I wasn’t trying to be a complete pain in the ass, I shrugged. “I don’t dislike you.”

He scoffed, slipping his gloves off. “Since fucking when?”

“Since you turned out to be more tolerable than I originally thought.”

He shook his head, taking a long gulp from his bottle. “Thanks, doll. Appreciate that.”

Still raging, but slightly more approachable, I took a step toward where he stood at his gym bag.

“C’mon Noah. Maybe sparring will make you feel better?”

He waved at me, disregarding me. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Because…?” I leaned closer to where he was bent over the bag, unwrapping his hands.

“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?”

Standing up straight, I adjusted my sports bra, which I noticed his eyes caught.

“Then grapple with me.” My solution was simple.

After a moment of careful consideration, he eventually stood back up, staring as I made my way to the middle of the mat.

We bowed, and he leaned down, hands up. “I’m not holding back today.”

I smirked. “Please don’t. I want it all, baby boy.”

This triggered him, his hips dropping to the mat in a hard sprawl, arms wrapping up my waist, dropping me like a hot rock on my back. The air rushed from my lungs before I could prevent the grip he held on my torso. His arms squeezed me in a hard choke, but I wasn’t tapping today.

I managed to get a hand under his left thigh, bending it back at a long angle, making his grip falter just enough to get turned around in his arms. My head slipped loose, but he was back on me. Impossibly strong hands gripped my left thigh, flipping me onto my back. My legs instinctively wrapped around his midsection while he tried to get a grasp on my forearm, to which I squirmed, putting pressure on his rib cage with my legs.

A heavy, deep growl escaped his throat, which made my thighs involuntarily twitch around him. I don’t think he noticed. He was angry, fighting something other than myself at this moment.

His arms came up under mine, and he lifted me off of the ground, and dropped me back into my ass hard, popping my legs open.

My limbs sprawled out on the mat, my breath coming heavily, I looked up at him, wide-eyed. He kneeled over me, hair hanging off of his face in sweat-soaked tendrils, threatening to touch my forehead.

We sat there while I watched the darkness in his eyes dissolve, his breathing getting more and more even. The scowl on his face softened for a moment, and I couldn’t help when my hands reached up to grip his sides, squeezing in a hard grasp.

Noah was hurting. I didn’t know why. Something or someone had hurt him. And here, in this moment, I had him.

We knew so little of each other. Only having spent time in this safe haven together, we had bonded over the last few days, and I knew I was the only person who could relax the fire raging behind his chest right now.

“Noah?” I whispered into the space between us, fighting the urge to touch his face.

“Thanks.”

I quirked a brow. “For what?”

“Being here.”

Smiling, I pressed my fingers harder into his sides. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did. You don’t even know it, but you did.”

I did know, but hearing him say it gave me a small flutter in my chest.

“Anytime.”

I tapped my code into my phone, and opened the Uber app. Zipping my sweater against the cool spring air, I began the process of searching for a driver to take me home.

“Hey.” I turned to see him walking out behind me. “Headed home?”

I nodded. “Yeah, just got to wait for a driver.” I waved my phone for show.

“You have to call an Uber? Where’s your car?”

Shrugging, I looked back down at the app that stated it was still looking for a driver.

“Got totaled last week.”

He walked over to me. “Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No big deal.”

His eyes bounced between me, and the parking lot where his shiny black Navigator sat under the moonlight.

“Want a ride?”

I shook my head. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can get an Uber.”

He smiled, all sense of his earlier anger wiped clean. “I promise I’m cheaper.” His keys twirled around his long fingers.

I smirked, and closed my app. “Alright.”

The drive to my house wasn’t long, but before we even made it out of the parking lot, he looked over to me. “Hungry?”

I was leaned back, sending my mother a text. “Uh,” I locked my phone. “I mean, I never eat heavy after a workout.”

He nodded. “Same. But there’s a Yogurtland up the street?”

My lips pinched together. “What’s that?”

He turned out of the parking lot, but still managed to stare at me. “Frozen yogurt?”

I just threw my hands up. “Never had it.”

The look he gave me was as if I was insane. “You’ve never had frozen yogurt?”

“Isn’t it essentially just ice cream?”

He shook his head. “No. Not at all. It’s better.”

“Pfft. I doubt that.”

He turned into the parking lot of the yogurt place, and enthusiastically jumped out of the truck. In the few minutes it took for us to get there, I had been working my Dutch braids out, letting my dark hair loose, waves set in from the style. Letting myself out of the truck, I stopped short when I noticed him standing in front of the store, staring at me.

“What?”

He had the smallest, most amused smile tugging at his lips. “Your hair.”

I walked toward him. “What? Is it all fucked up?” I started tousling it, pulling at the tangles.

“No. It looks nice. I’ve never seen it down.”

I thought about it. I always kept my braids in at the gym. I wasn’t trying to have it ripped from my scalp.

“Oh.” A hot blush crept up my neck. “Thanks.”

I slipped in the door past him toward the counter. He proceeded to spend five whole minutes explaining flavors, toppings, mixes, and syrups to add.

After I finally elected for a simple vanilla with raspberries on top, and he went with chocolate with Oreo pieces, we found a small table and sat down.

He watched intently as I tried it, waiting for a reaction. I was pleasantly surprised.

“So?” I glanced up at him. “What do you think?”

Swallowing my spoonful, I nodded. “I’m impressed. Still like ice cream better.”

He rolled his eyes digging into his own cup.

“So,” I started, mixing my raspberries in. “you think you’re ready to talk about it?”

He stopped, his spoon halfway to his mouth, and eyed me curiously. “Why do you want to know?”

My yogurt was already starting to melt. “I’m just wondering. You were pretty upset tonight.”

He just nodded, looking into his cup, pushing the Oreos around. “I was.”

“You don’t actually have to tell me. I just know from experience that it usually helps.”

“Does it?” He still wasn’t looking at me.

“It can. Especially with someone who doesn’t know about it.”

I watched as his throat moved when he swallowed. “I’ve got a friend…” He stopped. “Had a friend. He passed away a couple years ago.”

I just sat, watching him, giving him space.

“We released a song with his band. It was a tribute sort of thing.” Dropping his cup, he leaned back. “Anyway, it came out about a week ago.”

He had stopped speaking, fingernail picking at the cuticle on his thumb.

“And it made you upset?”

“It hurt.” The sound of his voice was a soft echo, the words catching behind his tonsils.

The overwhelming temptation to stand up and wrap my arms around him gnawed at me as I watched his eyes well up, his face twisting to try and push them back down.

Instead, I settled on reaching a hand across the table, slipping my fingers around his wrist.

His eyes gazed up at me, and he gave me the most heartbreaking smile.

“I’ll be alright. It was just a gut punch, you know?”

Grazing a thumb over his tattoos, I stared at him deeply, attempting to convey my condolences.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Noah.”

A sniffle cleared the air, and he lifted a hand to make quick work of wiping his eyes.

“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it.”

-

After yogurt, I made it a point to make sure Noah had my cell number in case he ever needed to talk. I almost regretted it, as he had been sending me memes nearly since we parted ways last night.

When I stepped into the gym, the energy was fervent. Fighters rolling around the mats in all directions, preparing for the approaching competition.

I made my way to the back, now quickly becoming a normal routine, and hid my excitement when I was met with chocolate brown eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile.

Noah was sitting on the mat, stretching his long limbs, so I quickly set my bag down and joined him. Each time I would change positions, a finger would come up to poke me in the side, making me almost fall.

“Knock it off!” I swatted at his hand, an involuntary giggle escaping.

“Just making sure you’re loosened up! I’m not taking it easy on you!”

I shook my head, standing back up straight. “Is that what yesterday was? Because I think my tailbone is bruised now.”

He cackled. “You want me to rub it for you?” He threw a wink at me, and I felt my insides spasm.

“Not necessary. Just remember, I’m a lady.”

He scoffed loud. “Yeah, and I’m an acrobat.”

My jaw dropped. “Oh, you’re in for it Sebastian.”

We had been grappling for longer than normal, each round both of us wanting more. We would laugh when we made the other tap out, mocking each other playfully, forcing the other to be even more savage during the next match. Our bodies were both broken out in a heavy sweat, slipping over each other and leaving a wet sheen on the mat.

"Motherfucker!" I squealed when he pulled me up in another arm bar while I kicked my legs up, trying to hook onto him anywhere I possibly could.

"C'mon doll, tap out."

I snarled at him, trying not to jostle my arm too much. My hips fought for leverage, but his legs over my stomach made it impossible to lift myself.

"You're not getting out of this, Y/N. Tap out."

"Fuck you!"

He chuckled. "If you insist."

Fucking perv.

After another two minutes of struggling, I finally huffed and tapped his shin. He released me instantly, popping up on his feet.

"Sorry, doll. We need to work on that one." He sprayed water in his mouth and I glared at him from where I sat on the mat.

"Quit calling me doll."

He smirked, walking over to hand me my own water. "Why? You know you like it."

I snorted. "No, I fucking don't."

"You do."

Rolling my eyes, I kicked at his legs. He just laughed at me.

Plopping down on the mat next to me, he bumped my shoulder. "You're improving a lot, you know."

I smiled. "Thanks. I feel like I am."

"The arm bar is the worst. I can barely get out of them myself."

Leaning back on my hands, I stretched. "Ugh, I should get home."

Rising up on my feet, I made my way over to my bag.

"Oh."

This made me turn around. Did he sound...sad?

"What?" I asked him while wiping my forehead with a towel.

"I was just having fun." He stood, walking to his bag and mirroring my actions.

This made me smile. "Same time tomorrow?"

He pulled his lips to the side, thinking about something he wasn't saying out loud. I ignored it, now wiping the sweat from the back of my neck.

"I mean, or we could," He hesitated, grinning and looking nervous. "hang out?"

I dropped my towel back in my bag. "Hang out?"

"Yeah, like last night."

"You want to get yogurt again?"

He shouldered his bag, and I did the same. We walked toward the edge of the mat, bowing out.

"We don't have to. Could get pizza?"

"Mm, I don't eat heavy after a workout."

He nodded. "Right." We made our way out of the gym. "We could...go to my place?"

My eyebrows shot up, surprised. "Your place?"

His eyes popped open wide, just now realizing what he had suggested, and how it sounded.

"I just mean to hang out! We could like, order food and play video games or something?" His words came out rushed, nearly stumbling over one another.

I smirked, pulling my hoodie over my head to protect from the chill. "I'm a sweaty mess."

"So am I." Noah took a step into my space, eyes looking down at me. "Doesn't bother me."

Ending up at Noah Sebastian's house was not on the agenda for today. Somehow, however, I stood in his living room, eyes darting around, hand firmly grasping my gym bag.

"You want something to drink?"

I snapped out of my trance and looked at him. "Uh, sure."

My feet followed him while he listed off the options. "I've got water, Gatorade, green tea, and Dr. Pepper."

Opting for water, he reached into the fridge and tossed it at me, grabbing one for himself and motioning for me to follow after him. He lead me up a tall, wrapping staircase down the hall to a bedroom at the end. The room was obsessively clean, making me feel wrong just stepping foot inside.

"This is it. It's not much." He ran a hand through his hair, spreading his arm out toward the room.

His words were comical, given the room was massive. A large, king sized bed the centerpiece. A rolling trunk sat on the floor at the edge, and his comforter and pillows were black. Tucked into the corner was a computer desk with a double monitor gaming setup perched on top. There was a loveseat futon sat on the side of the room with a small table sitting in front. Various anime figures adorned the surface of the table, and LED strip lights hung along the perimeter of the room.

"I didn't, uh," His face was turned up in a grin. "really think about what we would do once we got here."

Taking a careful step into the room, I smiled back at him. "Food?"

His eyes widened, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Right! What do you feel like?"

Attempting to ease the awkward tension, I walked over to the couch and sat down. "I'm pretty simple. Anything works."

He was scrolling, looking at his screen. "Sandwiches?"

I leaned back on the couch, nodding. "Sure."

After about an hour, we had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of him sitting in his computer chair, and me on the couch, while he chatted between bites of his sub.

"We've only been back from tour for like, two weeks?" He set his sandwich down, wiping his face with a napkin. "We haven't made plans for any more shows yet. We need to take some time to prepare the re-release of the album."

I was chewing my food, being wildly careful not to drop anything on the couch. "Have you decided when it will be released?"

He shook his head. "It's more up to the label, but it's not ready yet anyway."

"The last album was good."

His eyes became almost glittery, hearing what I said. "You've heard it?"

"I listened to it once or twice." I smirked, trying to hide my face with my sandwich.

"Just the last album?" He had me. He knew I was bluffing.

"Well, I pulled you up on iTunes when I realized you were a musician."

His tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip. "Which is your favorite song?"

Without thinking, I spoke. "Dethrone."

The shit-eating grin that crawled over his face had me giggling nervously.

"I like working out to it."

He stood, crumpling the paper from his sandwich and tossed it in the garbage. He flopped down next to me on the couch, only inches between us. I set the half of my sandwich on the paper laid out on the table.

"Well, I'm glad you like our music." He was balancing his head on his palm, triumphant smile on his face.

"Are we just going to talk about you the whole night?"

"Oh, you want to talk about you? We can do that."

I leaned back. "Like?"

"Favorite movie."

"The Crow."

He quirked a brow, but didn't question further.

"Favorite TV show?"

"Buffy The Vampire Slayer."

He laughed at that. "Seriously?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Don't hate on Buffy."

He threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, it's a classic." He tapped a finger on his chin. "Favorite place?"

"Place, as in...location?"

"Or whatever it means to you."

I had to think about this one. "My room."

"Really?"

I just nodded. "It's mine. I have it set up exactly how I like it. My roommate is mostly who decorated the rest of the apartment. It's nice, but my room? My room is all me."

Tightening his lips, he gave a look of approval.

"Fair enough." He took a moment to think. "Favorite food?"

"Ah," I stretched my arms out. "Probably Japanese."

He smiled. "Yeah? Same."

He took a while to think over his next question, really working on it.

"Favorite anime?"

Uh-oh, he caught me.

"Oof." I averted his gaze. "I actually don't really watch anime."

I expected a more energetic response, but instead he just said, "No? Why not?"

I shrugged. "Could never get into it? I watched one all the way through, but I couldn't find another that interested me."

"Which one?"

"Tokyo Ghoul."

His eyes lit up. "That's my favorite." He reached over, grabbing a PlayStation controller off of the table and switching it on. When the device surged to life, the background showed an illustration of Ken Kaneki in his ghoul mask, red eye bleeding.

I smiled. "It's the only one that held my interest."

"You've never tried Attack on Titan?"

Shaking my head, I looked back at him. "Never heard of it."

"Want to give it a try? It's dark. You might like it."

"Sure."

He took a few moments to get the show prepared, and I took the opportunity to finish my sandwich, tossing the paper out.

"You want a blanket?" He turned the room light off, turning the LED's up to a warm white light, giving the environment a comfortable feel.

"I'm okay, for now."

He sat down, keeping at least half a foot of distance between us, and began playing the show.

I wanted to pay attention, I really did, but his hand was resting on the couch, fingers splayed out right next to my leg, and it was all I could think about. His eyes were trained on the TV, which made it harder not to stare at him. His features were so striking; eyes a deep brown, hair pushed back and hanging lazily, tattoos littering nearly every inch of his skin. I felt myself salivate while wondering where all he was tattooed, and if I would have the chance to see them.

In an attempt to distract myself, I began removing my braids, taking a second to shake my hair out before I ran a hand through it, trying to get comfortable. I tucked legs underneath myself, my shorts making me feel more exposed than I would've liked.

That's when I felt his eyes on me, covering every inch of me. His fingers were so subtly slipping closer to my thigh on the couch. I tried breathing, but keeping a steady pace was impossible when he was staring.

How far could we take this? How much did I want to allow?

I shifted casually, clearing my throat, and letting the skin of my leg brush his hand. I watched as his eyes shot down to the connection, not moving an inch. His fingers were cool against my warm skin. I leaned back on the couch, pressing my leg closer to him.

His hand slipped, then, up the side of my leg, coming to rest on the top of my thigh. I felt my lip twitch, so I leaned into his hand, pressing my skin into his palm.

When I finally dared to look over, he was staring directly at me, face unwavering, looking absolutely ravenous.

The tension struck me, ripping a cord inside my chest. I wasn't going to sit like this forever.

I leaned forward, taking hold of his shoulder, and pulled my face impossibly close to his. His eyes roamed over me, contemplating his next move. The hand he had on my leg was now wrapped around my back, holding me in place as I stared at him, waiting.

I counted six calculated breaths before he finally leaned in, pressing his lips to mine, and I took my time inhaling his scent. He smelled like the woods; earthy and pine mixed with salt.

The hand he had holding my back pulled, pressing me closer to him. I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to slide across my teeth, licking into my lips. A low moan escaped me, and it was like a switch had flipped.

His mouth was hungrily attacking mine, using the same energy he typically exhausted back in the gym. His arms flipped me back, landing me on the cushions, and pressed himself against me.

I hooked my left leg on his hip, using steady pressure to keep his waist pushed flush to my body, my hips grinding against him.

Humming into my mouth, he pulled his face back, studying me for a moment. I laid, mouth open and breathing heavily, staring up at him.

"You're so fucking sexy, you know that?"

Rolling my eyes, I leaned my hips up, pressing against the hard bulge in his shorts. "You seem to think so."

He hissed, applying the same pressure back against me. "I have for a while now."

"Yeah?" I let one hand snake down between us, pressing against his cock over the fabric. "Now that you have me here, what do you plan to do?"

A soft, whispering whimper left his lips. "I've got some ideas."

He crashed his lips back down, nipping and biting at my lips, and began making his way down my jaw. His teeth grazed my pulse point, licking a stripe up my windpipe.

"Well," I breathed out. "you going to act on those ideas? Or just lick me all day?"

His head snapped up, and the darkest, most mischievous grin graced his features, which made a chill run up my spine.

"So fucking glad you asked."

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Hello! The art on this reading is done by me! If yall wanna go check out my art blog its called @starlitghostfawn 🖤🩵🤍

Remember take what resonates, leave all the rest behind but always be open to new experiences!

PILE 1

Crystal: Green Fluorite

Astrology: Aries ♈️, Capricorn ♑️, Pisces ♓️, Virgo ♍️

Figurine: Blossom Bunny

Song: “Memory” by Toby Fox

Pile 3, your inner child has a pixie-like energy that makes them super hyper and happy. However, they have a huge complex about success. They are surrounded by expectations that were put upon them long ago. Now you are the only one putting those expectations on them. They need some time to play. Space to do whatever they please with no pressure to perform or to do your absolute best with no mistakes. Allow mistakes to be made. Allow yourself to be human. You are so hard on yourself and think yourself in circles over the littlest mis-step. Mistakes a part of humanity and being alive. Your inner child is an earth angel that is allowed to learn messily. You will make yourself and others proud even if you take time to let them free.

💚🩷🍡🍐🧚🏿‍♀️🧝🏽💗🌸🌷🪷🐛👛👒🧠🍀🍉💕🍣🍾🎀♻️🛍️🥝🍈🌳🐙🧚🏼💶💖📗🪴🐢

PILE 2

Crystal: Rose Quartz

Astrology: Scorpio ♏️, Taurus ♉️, Cancer ♋️, Aquarius ♒️

Figurine: My Melody

Song: “Wasteland, Baby” by Hozier

Pile 2, your inner child is congratulating and celebrating with you! They have this soft, shy energy. They have asked something from you and you gave it to them! Fantastic job, friend. I think what you have been working on is loving your inner child more actively. You worked through some emotional issues recently and met your inner child where they needed you. It has made your life different but happier! Maybe you showed them a love they haven’t felt before or at least haven’t felt in a long time. I definitely see maybe you did something new with your hair that your inner child finds so fun and fulfilling. I also see you could have worked through the root of an ED and are working on your recovery! Your inner child is so grateful to you. You are learning to love each other and trust each other. Which I see you have worked very hard on. You have been doing your shadow work and healing. It is time to take a break and pour yourself your favorite drink. Appreciate yourself for all the work you have been doing.

🤍🩷💛🐭🍯🥼🌸🩰🦢💑🎟️💒🔑🧺🛁🐰🌺👙🍰👻🌼🫀💅🏻🫖🧁💝⚜️⚱️💿🍭🍌🥞🐩

PILE 3

Crystal: Angelite

Astrology: Sagittarius ♐️, Gemini ♊️, Leo ♌️, Libra ♎️

Figurine: Cinnamoroll

Song: “always, i’ll care” by Jeremy Zucker

Hello, pile 3! Your inner child's energy is like a fire-cracker. They have a very spicy energy but it feels very tame. An outside force (probably a mother or another feminine role model) definitely shoved them in a box early on. Your spicy energy goes unappreciated by you because of how some of your inner child has been hidden away. Two things I think would be important for you to know about this. First, you are free of this third party who judged you. You don’t have them hanging over your shoulder anymore. You are free to let your inner child be themselves. Second thing, your inner child’s aggression is a very useful and protective tool. Let them get angry. Let them bark at people. Not allowing that energy out is less protective than relaxing and permitting them to protect you from people or things that you know hurt you. I know you’re scared to empower them. Their discomfort is worthy of being addressed. You don’t have to keep them away to remain safe anymore. You are 100% allowed to be a little brat sometimes and there is nothing wrong with that. Anger is part of the human experience and is important to keep some control over but not a total domination. Free the little one.

🩵🤍🌊⚗️📖🔪💦🏳️❄️🦋🛜💎🔭✉️🍚🪼👗🔂🛏️🗯️🧊💍📘♿️🪥💀🕯️🥶🫂👖🐋☁️

-ghost 👻🩵

[szlez]

Against a wall - now with a fanfic!

Dean & Cas

A bit more of Dean's panty!kink here, here, here, here and here 😉

Reblogging, since now the art is accompanied by an amazing fic written by my incredibly talented friend ani_ona 😘

Dean's head was turned away when Castiel pushed the door open. And honestly, even if it wasn't, there hadn't been enough time for him to react. So he did nothing, just lay there on the covers of his bed, one arm casually under his head, the other resting on his stomach. Cas noticed the hand was rising and falling along with Dean's breath. He stared for a while at the wide, strong palm with a little scar on the thumb and always clean and tidy cut nails. No matter what, wendigo in the woods or grave digging all night, Dean always took care of his hands. Cas liked that about him.

If asked, Sam would tell him, that this was part of the job hygiene, learned the hard way, and not without some casualties. But Castiel never thought of asking Sam.

So Castiel was busy watching Dean's fingers, and it took him a while to realize, that he himself was being watched too. Dean's gaze darkened, or maybe it was his face paling a little as he was looking straight into Cas' eyes. Something about his posture changed to less relaxed, fingers on his stomach were rising and falling slightly faster as his breath quickened.

That was when Castiel recalled that damn discussion they'd been having from time to time. The concept of privacy, personal space, and all those things Castiel really didn't get and didn't bother to learn about. He hadn't knocked before walking in, so now he briefly closed his eyes and braced himself for yet another slightly annoyed speech. He didn't like being told off. On the other hand, he did enjoy observing Dean in those moments – looking so commanding and in charge, his back straight and voice firm. Castiel imagined him using this tone talking to misbehaving children if he had any. The angel had to make a conscious effort to suppress a smile. It wouldn't be appropriate in the current situation.

But this time Dean didn't say anything about privacy. In fact, he didn't say anything at all, still looking at Cas with anxious eyes as if expecting a blow. That was strange and unpleasant. Why would Dean think that Castiel might do anything like that to him? The angel frowned and took in a view of his lover in the dim light of his bedroom one more time. Lying on his back, not wearing much clothing except for his favorite old t-shirt and… And… Oh. That was something new.

At first, Castiel thought that the lingerie was simply too small for Dean. He needed a second to realize his mistake: it didn't look like anything he encountered in any male underwear drawer. They were pink panties, for ladies, with a little bow in the middle. That was interesting. Involuntarily, Castiel moved slightly forward to look closer at the shape the undergarment took on Dean's body.

Audibly shaky breath made him pause. Dean was still looking at him, frozen, his gaze intense and somehow… scared. Castiel connected the dots. It was something about this underwear that made Dean so guarded. But why? He searched through information concerning human culture he had gathered over the years.

Humans were extremely sensitive when it came to their gender. Mistaking someone's sex for another was almost always offending and embarrassing. So maybe this was it. Castiel sighed. He would never understand what the fuss was all about. Male, female, something else, who cares? Plus, he clearly remembered wearing a female vessel some years before, and it was… nice. Soft and delicate in some parts and firm and powerful in others… Such a potential, though looking so fragile and light.

If this was what bothered Dean, Cas had to tell him… But Dean spoke first.

“I hope you don't mind…”, he started but trailed off.

Cas was still studying the panties, which seemed to fill out in the meantime… Finally, his vessel's hormonal system helped. After several moments of awkward silence, he realized that his breathing quickened as well, and it was uncomfortable wearing so many layers… Suddenly, without thinking about it, he knew what to do and what to say.

“Not at all.” He smiled and slowly licked his lips before adding, “Would you accept a little help with…” He cut himself off, pointing to the object of interest.

Dean looked down at himself, then back up at Castiel and smiled. It was a genuine, slightly mischievous grin that was so rare on his face that Cas caught himself staring again. It made Dean look younger and less tired, and Cas swore to himself that he was going to bring it on Dean's lips as often as possible.

Before Castiel was done thinking, Dean was up, closing the distance between them. He put his hands on Cas' shoulders and helped him shrug off his trench coat and jacket. Then he proceeded to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. Cas smelled Dean’s hair and put one finger under his chin to make him look up. Once their eyes met, the angel closed his lips around Dean's mouth and slid both hands down his back to finally grab his buttocks and feel the panties that proved to be silky in touch. Slow circular movements resulted in Dean gasping into Castiel's mouth and pressing himself closer to his, now naked, chest. The angel hummed low and broke the kiss. Dean took in a gulp of air, and the sound of him exhaling against his ear sent shivers down Castiel's spine. Sliding his hands back up, under Dean's t-shirt, the angel felt firm muscles and well-formed shoulder blades. He traced their shape with his fingertips, and it was Dean's turn to tremble. When the t-shirt joined the shirt, tie, and jacket on the floor, Castiel made an attempt to remove the rest of his clothing. He had some difficulties with his belt, too distracted to remember how the damn thing worked. Then he felt Dean's fingers on his hands, and for a moment he forgot about breathing, hearing only the rush of his blood and seeing dark dots before his eyes.

When he recovered somewhat, he felt fabric sliding down his thighs and a carnal sense of freedom. Dean hummed approvingly and murmured into his ear, following the pattern Castiel set:

“I will be happy to help you as well.”

Hearing a playful smirk in his voice, Cas pushed Dean onto the nearest wall and busied himself kissing every inch of his neck, feeling the heat of a human body and those manicured fingernails scratching his back.

After a while, Dean opened his eyes and cupped Castiel's face in both hands. His kiss was firm and steady. As was his body when he turned around nimbly in Castiel's arms, pressing his back against the angel's chest and resting his cheek on the wall. He glanced at Cas over his arm, waiting. Castiel sobered immediately.

“Dean… you sure…?”

“Sure.” Came the firm answer promptly. “Would you…”

And Castiel did.

[gennemi]

Omg Rennnnn♡ hear me out, okay? Scen/Headcanon (idk whichever suits you) w/ Muzan and gn reader who is Upper 5 with a flower blood demon art style (almost like poison ivy but with any flower that they have encountered) who has a crush on Muzan and everytime they sees him they get really happy and excited and flowers start blooming in their hair🥲💖

the main inspo for this is because I have an afro, and when I go out with my nieces and nephews, they always find flowers to put in my hair because according to them it will make me happy✋️😭

(I swear I love them so much🥰❤️)

𝑴𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒏 𝑲𝒊𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒋𝒊 𝒙 𝑮𝑵! 𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

A/N: This was the cutest ask ever!! I loved it!!! 🤭💕❤. Thank you so much for requesting this cute ask lovely! I hope you love it! And that's so sweet that your nieces and nephews do that! 😭❤✨ I'm sorry if it was short though! I tried my best (I'm still learning to write more better for Muzan!)

Warnings: Fluff, spoiler mentions of Uppermoon 6, 4 and 5s deaths, implied realtionship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-It was no secret to their fellow uppermoons, that they had a crush on the Demon King himself, the only one who didn’t know was Muzan himself. They didn’t say anything to him about it, because they didn’t think he would even see them in that way. They don’t even know how they managed to become an Uppermoon, their blood demon art simply had something to do with flowers. 

-Everytime they saw him, they would get so happy and excited. That flowers would start blooming from their hair. It would confuse Muzan at first, because they did that with everyone else when they got happy/excited, but more would bloom when they were happy, around him. And it really confused him. How they aren’t even scared of him, that they were happy to be around/see him.

- Even during the Uppermoon meeting, after the death of Daki and Gyutaro, they seemed happy to see him, that flowers bloomed from their hair. Which of course didn’t go unnoticed by Muzan. He could see the happy look on their face, the happy sparkle in their demon-like eyes, and the blush adorning their face, he dug deep into their thoughts during said meeting. Which had revealed that they are infatuated with him.

-Now he didn’t know how to react at first, considering this is Muzan we are talking about, he doesn’t have time for romance, or such ‘weak feelings’ as he would call it, but he won’t lie. They were his favorite, but obviously he wouldn’t say it out loud, because of him being too prideful.

-So imagine their surprise,when he asks them to stay behind after said meeting. That he needed to have a conversation with them. But they stayed behind, no questions asked. They were confused about why he needed them to stay behind.

-Until he bluntly said out loud, that he read their mind. Knows that they are in love with him. They immediately tense up. Scared of what he is going to say/react to their feelings, but to their surprise he admits to them that he is infatuated with them also.

-He chuckles at their reaction after he admits that to them. Their demon-like eyes were wide in shock, as their mouth hung open also in shock, but they quickly shook the shock off, and gave a big happy smile. More flowers are popping up in their hair from them being more happy/excited.

-After that he starts treating them differently than all the other Uppermoons, he’s less strict on them (which makes all the other Uppermoons jealous). And he's become really overprotective over them, especially after the deaths of Uppermoon Four Hantengu and Uppermoon Five Gyokko. He even goes as far as spoiling them, giving them compliments, and caring about them more than the other Uppermoons.

[beevean]

"There is more proof of Dracula being a nicer person in the games before Lisa's death"

Where? No really, where?

Because he kind of adopted a bunch of orphans? Yeah sure, on the pact that they'd swear alliegence to him and learn a cursed magic, essentially just using them as yet another tool to tell God to get bent

Because we don't see him bathing in the blood of innocents like we see N!Dracula do in that one flashback? Just because we don't see it doesn't mean that we can't infer a similar behavior by virtue of him being a vampire who needs human blood to live. The dude ruined the life of his best friend by having him kill his own girlfriend just to further his own plan and felt no remorse about it, even kind of gloated about it. Do you really think he'd be above doing the kind of crap N!Dracula used to do? He was already calling himself the King of the Night and was welcoming demons of various kinds into his castle, including a succubus who, like you mentioned in another post,was about to get down and dirty with one of his supposed proteges who was 15 years of age

And while you are technically right about the issues between him and Lisa I'd argue that the biggest issue is the lack of actual scenes detailing the relationship. I'm pretty sure the implication is not that Lisa is scared of her husband, but rather that she knows what he used to be and fears he will slip back once hit with such a massive blow. Had the show given us actual chemistry between the two it could've been nice, rather than making it look like Lisa just saw Dracula as some sort of patient to cure rather than a person to love, since, as it stands, the only thing the two seemed to have bonded over was their mutual love for science which, when coupled with Lisa's lack of care for Dracula's actions in the ending, makes her look like a borderline psychopath who cares more about knowledge than people even though the very reason she sought Dracula's knowledge in the first place was to help those in need

And I cannot in good faith criticize the show for going the whole "bad boy/good girl" route because, like it or not, it's one of the few instances of the show being relatively faithful to the games, where Lisa wasn't even a character, just the archetypical angelical woman who's basically a saint and almost managed to rescue Dracula's soul were it not for her death. The main issue there is that we never actually truly see Lisa, so her thought processes about Dracula are unknown to us, but no matter what we cannot avoid the implications that she knew her husband was a monster, it's practically impossible for her to not have known. Hell, the fact that she had to tell Alucard not to harm humans in and of itself implies that she feared the possibility that he might do so in a fit of rage due to his half-vampire nature. Now where do you suppose that fear might stem from?

For all intents and purposes the show's depiction of the relationship should've been better as Lisa was given some actual screentime, it's just that the show's shoddy writing turned that positive into a negative, but some of the fundemental issues that you mention are baked into the very idea that was already present in the games, they were just far less visible due to said lack of screentime

My bad, I meant to say "nicer" than N!Dracula. I know he's still a dick :P

The issue is pretty much what you said. We sadly have very few details of Dracula and Lisa before she was killed. What we do know paint him in a generally gray light - most obviously the idea that he sheltered rejected humans for the sake of teaching them dark arts, a sort of "selfish kindness" if you will. The show had the chance to give us more to really convince us of the idea that Dracula had good in him, especially since the entire angle chosen for him was "tragic complex villain you can't really blame". And they made things even worse.

We don't know if Dracula went on violent killing sprees for trivial reasons. Maybe he did, or maybe he didn't and found other ways to feed (the games, admittedly, gloss over the very concept of vampires needing humans to feed on). We know that N!Dracula did, and even better we learn this in a scene where we're supposed to feel sorry for his depression: that is the thing I take issue with.

(btw, in that scene N!Dracula didn't kill people for the sole purpose of eating, which would be understandable for a vampire. He took great pleasure in dismembering some merchants for "disrespecting" him. It was a show of power. Again, we don't know if Dracula did the same power flexes, but the implication is that he stayed in his own castle 24/7 and he was merely a legend. IGA confirmed that before Lisa's death, Dracula had no issue with mankind in general, only with God, and he lived a peaceful life: N!Dracula was already a misanthrope before he met N!Lisa.)

We don't see the details of Dracula being a kind, loving family man to Lisa and Alucard. The only line we can go with is the arguably-canon Grimoire of Souls where Alucard says that Dracula regained his humanity with Lisa. Same goes with the show because god forbid a flashback gets in the way of N!Alucard being a dick, but N!Lisa's behavior really suggests the worst. Maybe he didn't beat her or yell at her, but I still think that kind of fear should be unwarranted: N!Lisa has been with N!Dracula for nearly 20 years, she made him travel all by himself, she trusted him with a son, but she thinks (and correctly guesses) that one blow would make him regress to the savage impaling beast he used to be? Why did you stay with him, then?

As for Lisa's final words, I don't read them as clear-cut as it is in the show:

ENG: "Do not hate humans. If you cannot live with them, then at least do them no harm. For theirs is already a hard lot."

JP: Do not blame humans. She said that those unable to forgive mankind will walk the path of their own destruction. Those who do not belong to that world shouldn't do anything...

They're very different, even if the core message is the same. In the English version, yes it can be read as Lisa fearing that Alucard might harm people, but she is mainly urging him to find forgiveness and compassion in his heart (yes it's very Jesus of her, I know). In the Japanese version, that's where she acknowledges that her son isn't fully human, but notice that what she's concerned about is not that they'll kill, but that they'll destroy themselves.

But fair enough about Draculisa fitting the archetype in general. Undeniably the series has an issue with the portrayal of women :P I think that what mitigates it is, again, precisely the lack of details, which makes us come up with our own interpretations on what happened between the two.

I could have explained myself better, but I see a difference between "bad boy/good girl" on its own, which can be cliché but inoffensive, and the idea that a good girl's job is to actively try to fix a bad (read: toxic) boy, like the responsibility is only on her shoulders. We don't know if Lisa saw Dracula as a beast to be tamed: maybe she did, or maybe she simply saw his best traits. We know N!Lisa offered herself to teach N!Dracula "some manners". It's explicit that she wanted to fix him, and clearly she didn't do a very good job at it.

[desultory-novice]

[Trimming for length...!]

...Mechalor Anon, how dare you take my attempts to give them a vaguely implied happy ending and convince me (challenge level: super easy) to turn this into something Truly Horrific... ANYWAY!

Snowflake!Noir and Adeleine, aka...**** ****...

Adeleine, as always, takes up art. She's more unsure of herself, so she's been experimenting with different crafts, trying to find the one that fits...whoever she is now. Noir waits tables at Kawasaki's while learning how to cook from him. He's stuck with his collar but the encroachment seemingly stopped with 02's defeat so...that's good.

[This timeline MUST have a Happy Ending. See? They're even smiling!]

They have a home at Castle Dedede when they're not out...enjo... sorry ENJOYING!! Dream Land; the soft cuddle bear penguin king unable to NOT care about these two in every reality, apparently ^^

Overall, they're not fine. All that shock and trauma in rapid succession, followed by being in communion with a dark power, letting it gently infuse their souls for decades to help escape their awful waking life, only to be very psychically available as it was destroyed and then waking up in a perfectly ALIEN situation that only pushes the two of them closer together is totally not fine though!

Today was another good day...

[Warning: horror, body horror, original attempt at biblically accurate Kirby last boss, semi-realistic eyes, no salvation, character death]

-

:Adeleine smiles wide, hopping onto the large bed where Noir sits:

Adeleine: "Ready?"

Noir: "Only if you're ready to lose two bucks."

Adeleine: "No way! Today was a good day! It's going to work!"

:Adeleine gears up to pry at Noir's collar, trying to break or otherwise remove it from him. It still refuses to budge:

Adeleine: "...Nghhhhhhh!"

:Noir wryly shakes his head:

Noir: "Ready to call it quits?"

Adeleine: "...Noir, are you sure you didn't accidentally glue this thing to you and you've been too embarrassed to tell me the truth?"

Noir: "Says the girl who sewed the shirt she was wearing TO my apron when I asked you to fix the ties on it for me. I didn't know you hated being apart from me that much, Adeleine!"

Adeleine: "No~ir!!"

Noir: "Anyway, no, I didn't and that's two bucks you owe me."

Adeleine: "...I don't have any money. They don't even use it here. Why do you keep betting me? What would you buy, anyway?"

:Noir replies with mock seriousness:

Noir: "...Chiropractic work for all the neck damage you've given me trying this thing every single day."

:She pouts before finally letting a little laugh slip through:

"...Adeleine, listen, it's okay. You don't need to worry about me..."

Adeleine: "It's not okay though! Dark Matter's supposed to be all gone now. Everyone said so. So...why aren't you better, Noir...?"

:A faltering smile to match her growing sadness:

:Keep lying to your sister, boy. You're an expert by now:

Noir: "...I am better. We're both better. Right...?"

"I mean, isn't this place a lot better than home? You're out there painting and sculpting and sewing and building and who knows what else and I'm...making less guests sick at Kawasaki's every day!"

:He laughs a hollow laugh. She doesn't laugh with this time:

"...Just cause this stupid thing is still stuck to me doesn't actually MEAN anything. It's just a boring hunk of metal. Nothing more."

:It doesn't still whisper to him. A thousand lost souls crying out to be one again:

:She crawls into his lap:

Adeleine: "Still...I'm...scared, Noir. I'm scared for us. Nothing feels right anymore... What if, the next time I go to sleep...I wake up someplace new again? What if...it's someplace without you...?"

:He hugs her tight, their shivering bodies fitting together perfectly:

:Why do you shiver, children? It is not cold here. It is too warm:

Noir: "C'mon, snowflake girl. That's not gonna happen anymore. We've stuck together so far and we're going to keep sticking. Right?"

"...And anyway, today was a good day. You said it yourself."

Adeleine: "Yeah..."

Noir: "We just have to keep having good days. Don't let the little things get to us. We've still got each other. ...We can do this..."

:Back to sleep. In sleep, we are safe. Only in sleep. Though... ...They ask us to wake up here They worry when we do not wake up:

--

:Outside the door to their room:

Meta: "...Your majesty."

Dedede: "Whaa?! It's not what it looks like!!"

Meta: "I have no idea what you're implying."

Dedede: "So, uh, what brings ya here, Meta Knight?"

Meta: "The same reason as you, I would suspect. To check on the status of our guests from Shiver Star. How are they?"

:Dedede points inside, where the two siblings sleep cradled in each other's arms, akin to how they were found. Though, it's a little uncanny to see them continue to sleep that way:

Dedede: "See for yourself. Sleepin' peacefully. At least, I hope so..."

:A bit of worry makes its way onto his face:

"...Adeleine's right, Meta. We beat Dark Matter. Twice. Hell, maybe more! Sure, we've had a host of problems since then but Noir's..."

Meta: "Do you believe that, my liege? That we have defeated it?"

Dedede: "What do you mean by that?"

Meta: "...When you look at those siblings, what do you see?"

:Dedede looks back inside the room:

Dedede: "I see two kids. Quiet. Respectful. Scared of trouble but they don't cause any. They mostly stick to each other but I seem 'em out there slowly trying to make friends with the others..."

Meta: "...You are a good man, my liege."

:Dedede balks and puffs up his chest:

Dedede: "That's 'Great' and get it right!"

Meta: "......Then I take it back."

Dedede: "Hey!"

:Meta fixes him with a fierce, burning gaze:

Meta: "Look at them again, sire. Not with your eyes."

Dedede: "......"

:Dedede can see it, their matter is locked in a twisted spiral, Soul and Dark feeding each other, tightly intertwined, and growing still:

Meta: "Do you see it?"

Dedede: "...No. I don't see nuthin'."

:Dedede turns away:

"And before you ask me to look again, I don't WANT to see it. They're just two kids, Meta! Just two small kids! They haven't hurt nobody!"

Meta: "...In the beginning, it was just the boy. He was sick with Dark Matter. I didn't know how he was still alive. He could have easily been a threat to the kingdom and not just because of that sword."

:Meta shuts his eyes, regretting his lapse:

"I...had hoped the presence of his sister could alleviate that some. But Dark Matter is not so easily tamed. It has grown fast, feeding off the two of them. It is already more than twice what a normal member of their species should be able to handle without being consumed."

Dedede: "...Right. That doesn't sound good. How do we stop it?"

:He sees Meta Knight's expression and rephrases:

"...How do we save 'em, Meta?"

Meta: "I believe, my liege..."

:His lowered eyes go to Galaxia's handle:

"...the answer will depend on your definition of 'save'..."

...

Meta Knight's words hung heavy on him.

King Dedede shut his eyes and decided to continue along as if it was nothing. Just...keep making the place as comfortable for the two as he could. Maybe the knight was wrong? Maybe it wasn't too late?

It wasn't long after that. The trigger was something forgettably small, as simple as a thoughtless suggestion or an accident; one of them gets hurt, bleeds a little, maybe. It only needs to be one of them, so inextricably are they linked that the resonance of the other's echoed pain races across Popstar like a sonic boom. Dark clouds swirl in, covering the whole planet, blocking out the star's brilliant light.

King Dedede rushes out. He doesn't want to know-without-question what is the cause this time. He wants it to be something unknown. A new invader; not his familiar tormentor, the foe he knows so well.

But he knows exactly what it is because he is already mouthing the words to a waiting Meta Knight. "The kids! Where are they...?!"

"Look up..."

It is a cruel joke to him. Always, Dark Matter had a way of getting inside him. But every time, it had been his body. Never had it succeeded at invading his heart.

He wishes this one would take his body.

...Take me instead...

But the two violet eyes are not looking at him. They arc laterally with rapid movements, back and forth, back and forth, stretching to the edge of their vision, looking for their other half they know to be there, felt through the comforting grip of tightly twined fingers and hinted at in the reflection of wings like the points of a snowflake...

...

......

-ZERO THREE-

" " yI at kH Ou er Bt ls lN 'o ti Ir " " | " " Dt ol nu ta LF ey aM vl el MA es Ai ls oi nh eT " " | " "It Ji um sm ta WD ad no tG Tp oU Ds rU ee ak ma FW ou ro FY od ri eD vy eh rW" " | " "Hr ee lH pe Hv ia mS" "

"...Give them back..."

"GIVE THEM BACK!!"

" " ...eK di en dg eD De gd ne id Ke... " "

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

...He will not get them back...

-

ZERO THREE's dialogue reads:

"It Hurts Noir / It'll Be Okay" | "Don't Leave Me Alone / This Is All My Fault" | "I Just Want To Dream For Forever / Why Did You Wake Us Up Godammit" | "Help Him / Save Her"

...The last one you can probably guess...

-

Mechalor Anon's full post below. Sorry I took the worst possible ending choice you offered and SOMEHOW MADE IT WORSE!

Noirs Saved: 2 (Gijinka, AU AU) Noirs Failed: 1 (Snowflakes)

[stalkersdiary]

~NEVER Abandoned, and Never Alone~

A long post with odd topics. You've been warned ahead of time but this talks about some very... personal things. This turned into a vent post very quickly. (I'm not mad at you Seth/JustAThrowAwayHeeHee. I'm just using you as my reason to post as this made me realize I needed to say something.) I saw a response to me and I felt very sad because I never considered this point of view before.

I would NEVER abandon my diary. Mostly because... It's my Diary. It's my place to go to when I need to talk. However, I haven't been doing that and I regret it. Tonight, I want to talk to you. My diary. To be honest, I've spent a lot of this month in... a deep sense of melancholy. My last relationship hurt like hell and no better time to think of it... than Valentine's day. Valentine's MONTH for those who are happy and in love with someone/something. I spent a long time getting close to someone, just for them to hurt me, make me fear my own bed, and then wish that I could kill them. That feeling HURTS when you loved someone and then feel so repulsed by their actions and words, that you wish them death. It's been about 3 years since then, and life has moved on. I however, haven't. When everyone is telling you about how happy they are because they are so in love and you're just sitting there thinking of the last person you dated, knowing you may never date someone again, it feels miserable. I spent most of this month making time for myself. I started to really think about why I hated myself, why I didn't want to live, why life felt so lonely, etc. I learned more about me and FELT more about me. This sent me down a very unhappy but very clear path. I'm less afraid than I used to be. I was afraid for hundreds of reasons, but what really hit me, was that I feared my own mind and how I was being perceived. After days, and weeks of overthinking, I learned that I don't care anymore. I'm not afraid and I know that I'm claiming something unhealthy. Something disturbing to most. Something that got me in trouble before. The difference is this time, I don't care and I don't fear myself. I know me, and I wouldn't want THIS for the rest of my life. I am not afraid anymore. I'd rather be authentic and hated including by myself, than to live a lie for the rest of my life. I am not broken, because I wasn't a masterpiece to begin with. I'm a block of stone with a pretty face and no body because the sculptor got scared he'd ruin his art and left it in the dark for years. I refuse to wait any longer. I refuse to let life control me. I REFUSE, TO SIT BACK AND FEEL LIKE SHIT JUST BECAUSE I HAVE ENOUGH MENTAL AND PHYSICAL CONDITIONS TO SCARE MY ENDOCRINOLOGIST. I haven't been on normal medication in over a month and it's made me more aware of how fucked I really am. However, I don't mind who I really am. This looks unrelated but trust me, I have a point. I left because I was afraid to post. I was scared I would say something too "crazy," too unexpected, or post something no one wanted to see. HOWEVER- I didn't make this for ANYONE BUT ME. My posts can be manic, short, repetitive, etc. It's MY DIARY. This is MINE AND NO ONE CAN TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME. I will be posting more often. I will be posting possibly for days in a row filled with chaotic babble. However, it's me and it's real. I am the one in control of my actions and until I die, I will do whatever the fuck I want. It's my life, my blog, my diary. I'm allowed to be selfish and possessive when it's about something I own.

[blues-of-randomness]

The Pasts of the Forgotten Critters/Frowny fox (rewritten)

The forgotten critters were all part of different collections, paired with a smiling critter that was supposed to be part of the same collections.

Dogday, Catnap, Hoppy hopscotch, and Silly Shelly were part of the Pet collection

Jerry Giraffe, Clever Claws and Bubba Bubbaphant were part of Safari collection (In my au Bubba is an Indian Elephant but I could see Playtime co trying to sell my off as an African elephant thinking people wouldn't tell the difference)

Kickinchicken, Picky Piggy, and Molly Mc Moo were part of the farm collection

Craftycorn and Jolly jaws were paired up in a fantasy collection as Jolly wasn't any ordinary shark, he was supposed to be a Megaladon.

and finally Bobby and Frowny were made as a set for a Wild things collection (hence why their pendants are almost identical)

Their purposes and stories within the cartoons:

Jerry was going to be a love interest for Craftycorn. The two of them were paired up with the image of two shy souls who barely fit into the world coming together and changing each other for the better. Jerry was an expert at measuring, he could even guess how tall something was without needing a ruler. This, Without saying, was very useful for Crafty's art projects

Clever claws was smart but he was also dazzling, attractive, and oh so cool, everything that Bubba lacked. While Bubba was shown to get picked on and teased for not fitting in, Clever claws was able to mask himself and fit in with the crowd. He even tried to teach Bubba how to mask and fit in with the crowd but whenever Bubba tried it was met with failure, he did everything Clever claws did but it wasn't enough. Clever claws knew this and it wasn't fair, he became Bubba's best friend and taught him there was nothing to be ashamed of even if no one liked him.

Jolly jaws and Kickinchicken were paired as a playful duo, Jolly jaws was just as adventurous as Kickinchicken but he was more in favor of being save while doing (hence why a lifesafer is his pendant) While Kickin was more or less about being reckless and having fun. He teased Jolly jaws about being safe, calling him a coward, etc. One day the two of them had a surfing contest but during the surfing Kickin was knocked off his surfboard, Jolly jaws was happy until he realized that Kickin never resurfaced. He quickly dove under the surface and rescused Kickin from a watery grave. That's when Kickin really learned about the importance safety.

Molly Mc Moo's purpose in was to teach about how there needs to be a balance within someones life when i came to something they enjoy. In this case it was teaching Picky Piggy there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came to her love of Pb&J sandwhiches even if it wasn't healthy because Picky had control over herself and cared about her healthy. As long as she kept that up there was nothing wrong with a little treat now and then

Shelly and Hoppy were paired together as competitive opposites situation. Their story was supposed to be a parody of the tortoise and the hare. The two would race but Hoppy would hurt herself going so fast and Shelly would help her out teaching her that sometimes slower is better.

And finally Frowny was a fox who was hurt and bullied all his life. Then he met Bobby and she showed him what love is and how to be happy despite all the pain he's been through

Reasons for rejection:

The kids weren't impressed with Clever claws, some of the older girls thought he was a typical "self centered prince charming" and the kids thought that Jerry looked weird and made fun of him.

Similar reasons for Frowny fox, the kids hated how he smelled and saw no point in having a "Sad toy".

The kids were scared of Jolly jaws because he was a shark they tried removing his teeth but he looked too silly without them.

There was nothing wrong with Milly MC moo its just that Kickin and Picky were more popular so Molly was thrown away

Silly Shell was playing on the swings with Hoppy when he fell off, he retreated into his shell but it cracked and shattered upon impact with the ground. Shelly was deemed too hazardous for the children.

Without Molly and Shelly they could still have pet and Farm sets but they saw no point in realising Bobby, Bubba and Crafty on their own so they were all combined into the smiling critters we know today.

As time past the critters had moved on from their lost companions and forgot about them, not because they didn't care about them, it was more of a "I thought you were dead" type of forgetting

[riahlynn101]

"[You] Should Know Better Than That" (2).

Chapter 2

--

Jane’s nephew had always been a weird one. Temperamental and moody were labels put on him by his parents - her brother and sister-in-law - but there had always been more to it than that. 

Sure, Mike’s temper tantrums were a sight to behold. Her eardrums still haven't recovered from the one he threw when he was five. And her nephew’s moods change on a dime (thankfully, less outwardly destructive now that he’s older). But to say he’s temperamental is missing a fundamental piece of what makes Mike, well, Mike. 

She hates that she knows this. Hates that she understands him more than he does himself. And Jane refuses to understand anyone at all. 

Not anymore. 

“And his mood swings,” she warbles, pretending to wipe her eyes. 

Abby’s teacher - what’s-her-face - tilts her head. A look of blatant disbelief on her face. Jane isn’t bothered though. It’s not about making the teacher believe it, she just needs her words to end up on the record. And someday, when her nephew inevitably ends up going off the deep end, the court can look over her words, and find that Mike - as she has always proclaimed - is not a suitable guardian. 

Mike rolls his eyes. This, too, she ignores. It’s not the first time he can’t contain himself in a professional setting. Speaking of which….

She sniffs. “And that poor man.”

Another head tilt. Another eye roll. 

Her nephew doesn’t speak up to defend himself. Not that he ever does, because what could he possibly say? 

‘I didn’t mean it?’ ‘It was an accident?’ 

Oh, please. 

She motions to her lawyer - some guy she hired off of craigslist, Doug, if she remembers correctly - to hand her the necessary papers. The real reason she came here this morning. 

Eyes glazed over and with the tremor of a baby deer taking its first few steps, Doug hands her the adoption papers.

“I want custody of Abby,” she says. Partly for the money, partly because I can’t trust my nephew to keep her safe. Jane leaves that part unsaid, but she’s sure her nephew can fill in the gaps. 

Mike shifts in the seat, sitting up a little. His frown deepens. “And if I say no?” There’s something in his tone, like he’s secretly begging Jane not to take his little sister away. A small child asking their caregiver not to turn the lights out because they’re scared of what’s lurking in the dark. 

But she’s not that nice. 

“Then, I’ll have to escalate it further, and if the court decides to remove her from your custody, you’ll never see her again.” And that’s not a threat. A threat is petty and unproven. Jane doesn’t make threats. It’s a promise. 

Mike deflates. Without her wanting to, in his place is a younger version of Mike. Cuter, with big brown eyes, and dark (almost black) curls to match. (“When are mommy and daddy coming back?”) 

She shakes her head. The past version of her nephew disappears. The current one stares at her with concern, or maybe that’s fear for her mental state. At least now he knows how she feels. 

The school bell rings. 

“Well, until next week,” the teacher says. 

-x-x-x-

“So,” Mike starts, picking at the bowl of cereal he originally poured for Abby, but since she decided at the last second she didn’t want it, it’s his now. His sister colors at their dining room table. A rare sight, as she usually prefers hiding away in her room. “How was school?”

Nothing. The sounds of crayon on paper continue.

He purses his lips. “Your teacher told me, you guys are learning about animals. What’s that about?”

Nothing.

Mike sighs. “Okay.” He knew it was useless trying to reach her. Her teacher was clearly wrong. Center of Abby’s pictures or not, she doesn’t care if he’s here with her or not. “You can go if you want.”

Instantly, his sister is rushing to her room, art supplies clutched in her arms. A moment later she emerges, arms free, and heads straight for their television.

That’s right, he remembers. It’s Thursday, which means a new episode of Ab’s favorite show. 

Mike quietly laughs to himself. He used to rush to the TV on Friday nights to see reruns of Days of Our Lives and The Young and the Restless, though back then he had to fight against two parents who wanted the living room to themselves, and a….

He swallows, looking sideways into the kitchen. The calendar on the wall is a couple months off. He’ll have to change that….eventually. 

As soon as he hears the telltale jingle of My Little Pony, Mike digs into his pocket. The card he shoved in there earlier is creased but thankfully not ripped. 

He stares at the number for a solid minute, before building up the courage to call Mr. Raglan up. He taps his teeth together, twisting in his seat from side to side. The phone rings, once, twice. Mike thinks of hanging up, but the thought of not paying rent for a second month in a row stops him. It’s halfway through the third ring when the phone’s finally picked up. 

“Hello? Hello, hello?”

“Hi, it’s Mike Schmidt.”

Steve Raglan laughs, the sound crackly due to the poor connection. He wonders how many other poor souls had to grit their teeth and bear the humiliation of asking for help from someone so callous and unconcerned. Or maybe everyone else is smart enough to just take the job offer right off the bat. Smarter than Mike at least, not that that’s anything new. 

“Mister I’m too good for anything,” Mr. Raglan jokes. 

Against his will, Mike’s eye twitches. He forces a laugh. “Yeah, um…I was actually wondering if that job was still open?”

“Yes, of course. When can you start?”

“As soon as possible would be good.”

Another laugh. Mike somehow manages to not groan.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, get a piece of paper and a pen. I’ll give you directions to the restaurant.”

-x-x-x-

Mike meets Max at the front door. Her hair and clothes are slightly damp from the rain. “Hey, Max.” He hands her a towel to dry off with. 

“Hi, Mike,” she murmurs. A messenger bag slung over her shoulder. Likely her college textbooks. “Have fun.” The smile she sends him is downright mischievous. 

“Oh, so much fun.” He pulls his jacket on. “Uh…we don’t have a lot in the cupboards, but you can help yourself. I should be home by 6:30, but if I’m not here by then or you have any concerns-”

“Call you,” Max finishes. “I know, I know. Now, go. Otherwise you’ll be late. I heard the east bound is starting to flood a little, and we both know your car can barely handle an unflooded road.”

Mike nods. “Right. Thanks again, Max. I couldn’t do it without you.” And he really couldn’t. The only other person that he trusts to watch Abby is his aunt, and she’d use every second he’s gone to interrogate his sister or go through their (read: his) belongings. And even then, she’d expect to be paid. 

He winces sympathetically. “Max, I can’t pay you tonight.”

Max, who has settled on her usual spot on the couch, dismisses him with a wave. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

Mike smiles at the ground. “Right.”

-x-x-x-

Vanessa watches the restaurant from across the street. The unemployment office is ironically a perfect cover for her. Enough drug deals have been made in this parking lot to warrant a police officer being stationed here. 

The rain makes it a little difficult to see out her windshield, especially because she turned her car off to blend in more. 

Her phone vibrates with texts every so often. She knows who they belong to, and she doesn’t want to look. 

A car eventually pulls into the parking lot. It’s rundown, which is to be expected. The people he goes after aren’t usually part of a higher tax bracket. 

Vanessa waits for a little while. Let the new guy settle in for the night. Otherwise it might look like she was waiting for him, and wouldn’t that be crazy?

She pulls into Freddy’s parking lot a few minutes after midnight. A wave of nostalgia crashes over her as she looks at the building. So many memories here….

Her phone vibrates again, so she opts to leave it in the car. It’s not like he ever says anything important. 

Vanessa rings the doorbell. Most of the time, the new security hire answers the door immediately upon seeing that she’s a police officer. Apparently, the new guy is not like most people, because it takes him, not one, not two, but five rings of the buzzer for him to open the door. 

He cracks the door open a little, eyes narrow. “Can I help you…officer?” His voice is groggy, like he just woke up from a nap. But that’s impossible. He just got here twenty minutes ago. 

“Mhm. You must be the new security hire.”

The guy continues to stare at her, seemingly unable to find words. Maybe he’s on drugs? It wouldn’t be the first hire to be on something. 

Vanessa catches a glimpse of something dripping from the new hire’s arm. Red. “You’re bleeding,” she says. 

“Oh, It’s nothing. I’m sure I can patch it up.”

Definitely drugs. He seems shaky, but that could be because of the blood loss. The wound doesn’t look deep, but it wouldn’t hurt to patch it up.

Seeing an opening, Vanessa slides into the restaurant. “I know where they keep the first-aid kit. C’mon.”

It never gets easier, being here. It feels like every time she’s forced to do this, dust gathers another layer and the place falls apart just a little bit more. 

Still, this is Freddy’s. So, she can’t help but feel the tiniest bit excited.

She hands the kit off to him. “Bloodshot eyes, racing heart,” she observes, looking over him. The new hire seems to tuck into himself, as if hiding from her analytic stare. “Could only be Freddy’s.”

“Wh-what?”

“This place tends to get to people,” she explains, taking over bandaging his arm. “Which is exactly why you won’t last.” Vanessa extends a hand, done with fixing his arm up. “Vanessa Shelly.”

The new hire looks between her outstretched hand and her face. He takes her hand. His grip is sweaty and loose. “Mike Schmidt.” 

She notes the bags under his big brown eyes, the sickly pale tint to his skin, and his worn clothes. He looks - and she feels bad thinking it - pathetic. Pathetic and sad and very, very lost. 

“So, Mike. How about a tour?”

Without waiting for him, Vanessa heads out the door. If he’s smart, he’ll follow. Which isn’t saying much, because he took this job.

He probably didn’t have a choice. A voice whispers in her head. None of them do. 

She argues back. They have more of a choice than the children did. 

The voice says nothing to that. 

-x-x-x-

Mike follows Vanessa into the main lobby. She stops in front of the stage. The one he passed on his way into the office. A thick curtain hangs in front, blocking their view of what sits behind it. 

“What is this?” He asks, crossing his arms. Something about this - a police officer showing him around - doesn’t sit right with Mike. He knows that she’s likely just trying to be nice. Maybe it’s even procedure. There is a lot of dangerous machinery here. But still… 

“I want to introduce you to the band.” She hits a large button on the wall. The curtain slides open dramatically. “Freddy,” Vanessa gestures to a bear-esque animatronic in front. “Chica.” A chicken off to the side of Freddy; she holds a cupcake on a platter. “And Bonnie.” A bunny standing on the other side of Freddy, a guitar in his paws. 

Music starts playing. The song is familiar. Really, really familiar. Mike furrows his eyebrows. He glances at Vanessa who is watching the performance with stars in her eyes. She leans closer to him, still focused on the show in front of them. 

When she speaks, there’s a note of childish excitement in her voice. “Wanna dance?” The question catches Mike off guard. He looks at her, head cocked to the side. Did she really, actually want to dance with him of all people? They just met. 

Thankfully, he’s saved from the humiliation of answering. The music abruptly cuts off, and there’s a very obvious spark of electricity. 

“Whoa,” he mutters under his breath, jolting. This building must be older than he thought. 

Vanessa frowns, seemingly disappointed. “Maybe next time.”

Next time?

He watches her head back to the office. 

There’s going to be a next time?

-x-x-x-

“Your brother is hopeless.”

“Yeah…well…uh…your sister is weird.”

“Better than hopeless.”

[eldritch-spouse]

pinnie my boyfriend broke up with me because he fell “out of love” with me. I still love him very dearly and I’m not feel feeling too good, could I get some hurt/comfort from the clergy boys if it’s not too much trouble? your art and stories have really helped a lot thank you.

[Laughs in "too insecure and alert to ever get in a relationship". But no seriously, sorry to hear that. I hope it was at least a smooth conclusion. Also, I shoved all of them in here.]

Oh man. See, these monsters are generally scummy and opportunistic, they're not someone you want to reach out to for comfort. Because it won't be genuine. Chances are a good portion of them would have a hand in at least ruining any relationship you might have had. If not outright killing your partner, which is, without a doubt, what most want to do.

Breg does not know how to comfort you during this time, because he generally sees you breaking up as a great thing! It means less work for him! Do you wanna go somewhere? Let's celebrate!

Fasma will offer you drinks, because that's how he copes. Though, that night, he'll be drinking in victory. Your ex-lover's going to appear somewhere with a bullet between their eyes but ssshhh- Just drink.

Morell thinks you're silly! It's actually hard to take you seriously even if you aren't one of the pigs in his kitchen. What're you on about? ex-partner? That pathetic little thing? Pumpkin, you've been Morell's ever since he laid a hand on ya, that right there is just his next pig.

Gallon is also another monster who will offer you drinks, and endless conversation. See, the topic may hurt you, but Gallon wants to pry. Both to find everything he can about the person he's going to make have an "accidental death" and to get you vulnerable enough that you'll lean on him for all the comfort you need.

Fank-e goes so silent when you mention a partner that you might get scared. Until he start blabbering again. Hahah, that's so dumb, lol! You're BFFs, who cares about that loser?! If he fell off the face of the Earth, no one would care. Hey hey, do you want matching bracelets? Fank-e will help throw out all the ugly junk your ex gave you!

Vinnel is likely to hurt you purely for not being told you were in a relationship to begin with. It's ugly and impulsive and he's going to fetch your ex wherever they are to rend them in pieces for the viewing pleasure of all sickfucks in The Clergy. Mostly his. He brings their teeth back for you. Smile, Vinnel threw out the trash for you!

Santi has not stopped laughing. He knows it's insensitive but- Partner?? You?? Oh, you poor thing, not even close. See, you're his human. Whoever that little chucklefuck is? No love, they're gone, might as well never have existed. Oh, do you want to stop by their place and fuck on ther bed? Because that Santi can do!

Grimbly is, without a doubt, going to ruin your ex partner's life somehow. They never deserved you! <3 But you know who does? Grimbly! Because how could he ever fall out of love with the light of his life? Humans are frail and dumb, no offense mommy/daddy, but you deserve the love of someone who will never let go. Till your dying breath, you're his.

Ludwig is actually almost normal about this, almost. He's unnaturally calm, but that's only a ruse. Deep down, beneath all the blankets he's piled on you and the junk food you're both scarfing down, he's boiling alive with violent excitement. Because this is the greenlight he was originally not going to wait for. Lud will seriously slaughter your ex, torture them the way he wanted to before. There's nothing to stop him now, not even their pitiful cries.

Mervin will not comfort you at all. See, you deserve this! That's what happens when you reject someone leagues above for a piece of walking shit like that vermin who just dumped you. Does it feel good? No, right? It's humiliating, isn't it? Yeah. Did you learn your lesson? Grovel at his feet and you might still have a chance with Mervin. Your ex? Oh ho, don't worry, they'd make for a lovely skin carpet.

Obie's treating you to a five star restaurant. And don't worry about dressing fancy, you're getting a private booth. Eat all you want, he knows the sensation of rejection like an ugly second skin. See, not to shit on your science, but he thinks that if you had given him a chance, none of this turmoil would be happening now. Oh, him? Nah, he's not hungry, he's saving his appetite for something special...

Nebul is having deep conversations with you about what it was like being with this person, how they made you feel, how you were treated. See, the wraith thinks you've picked someone who never truly loved you. They neglected you. They're immature and selfish, you'd benefit from a lover who has life experience, someone who's above that silly dating game. Don't you want commitment, sweet pearl?

Belo is the living embodiment of "I told you so." Quite like Mervin, he's treating this as a lesson you should take key points from. Mainly that true love is near impossible to find and you shouldn't be tricked by other silly little humans and their pointless words. Second, that you must always trust your guardian angel when he says something is bad for you. Belo warned you dating them was a bad idea! Now he's going to have to punish the two of you. See, this is why you can't be left alone to make your own choices, you need him. Only him.

Patches is screaming internally. Why are you crying?? You didn't see him hang your partner from a tree, did you? Oh. Oh you broke up with them? Wow, so sad. Yeah. Anyhow, you wanna go on horse rides with him? The dullahan found this mare that's so nice and calm, you can totally learn to ride a horse with his guidance, forget about that idiot.

Sybastian really doesn't understand the need to cry, you're confusing yourself, the only reason he never killed them is because you always seemed so upset by the idea. Which is dumb, because you're his mate! Well, now that that's over, he's going to go for a quick hunting trip, and you two can officially consummate your bond later!

Krulu has erased any memory of prior relationships you've had, as well as killed all your ex partners, because he's a petty god and only he can be the one living being to ever have had you.

[quietly-by-myself]

A Wicked Work of Art - Chapter 10

Masterlist

A little bit exposition-heavy. Sorry.

CW: medical whump, trans whumpee, test subject whumpee, experiment whumpee, fantasy racism, dehumanization, fantasy whump, doctor carewhumper, carewhumper, psych medication talk, institutionalized oppression, fantasy genocidal talk

===

Vasiliki entered the lab room with a light rap on the door. Akakios was already awake, staring wide-eyed at him from his place, restrained on the bed. Vasiliki didn’t really know what to say other than to roll a stool up and start the conversation the way he should have the first time.

“Akakios,” Vasiliki took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I took it too far with the way that I whipped you. Way too far. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I deserve whatever you think I do,” Akakios responded quickly, with no life in his voice.

There was the training that Constantine had given him. A hatred boiled in Vasiliki’s heart at the thought of what Akakios had been through to make him so compliant. 

“No, Akakios, you do not deserve to be beaten. We’re trying to cure you of your magic. Beating you like I did isn’t treatment. It’s cruelty. I was cruel to you.”

Akakios froze. Vasiliki, then, suddenly realized that he hadn’t told Akakios much of anything, beyond that he was his owner now. He remembered how scared his first subject was, the first one that came from the Facility that was. He also remembered what had helped that first subject.

“I think it’ll be better for both of us if I lay everything down for you.” Vasiliki took a deep breath. “I want you to know first that you won’t be sold. When I’m done with my subjects, they’re sent to an institution where they live out their lives with their needs met.”

Something flashed in Akakios’ eyes as he strained to look at Vasiliki. Was that hope that Vasiliki had seen? “W-what?”

Vasiliki nodded. “The after effects of the experiments I run are highly monitored. See, Akakios, I’m working on a drug that cures the dark arts. Completely erases their magic.” Vasiliki paused. “Well, I guess it’s less of a drug and more of a series of treatments. A protocol if you will. The aim is to eradicate the dark arts without eradicating the mages of the dark arts. Naturally, though, it has a lot of ill effects on the host. Thus, there’s a lot of monitoring.”

Akakios was quiet, motionless, hardly even breathing for several moments. “What about Asimi?”

“Asimi?”

“The devil. The one who possessed me.”

The amount of care in Akakios’ voice when he spoke of the devil caught Vasiliki off guard. He’d heard of mages of the dark arts coming to care for the devils that lived inside of them. However, most, he’d learned, were infested with the creatures and needed them exorcized for true freedom. 

In any case, no devil was capable of anything other than manipulating their hosts. Any care that their hosts felt was pure manipulation - fake love.

“You’ll be freed from their grasp soon. That’s the first step in all of this. It won’t be easy though. Asimi is a silver devil, aren’t they?”

Akakios nodded. 

“That means that their possession is very strong, but I’m sure you knew that.”

Again, Akakios nodded.

“I won’t kill you in the process. I promise you that. If ever it looks like ridding you of their possession might threaten your life, we’ll change gears. It might be a matter of giving you holy water treatments to contain them. We’ll see. I’m experienced in ridding mages of devils’ possession.” 

Tears formed in Akakios’ eyes. It caught Vasiliki a little off guard.

So, his subject did have some sort of feeling for the devil that possessed him. That always made it more complicated to successfully exorcise one. Feelings made the two souls more intertwined. More difficult to separate.

“You’ll be okay, Akakios. Asimi will be difficult to get rid of, but it’ll be better for you to have them gone.”

Akakios nodded, but Vasiliki could tell that it was just to make him happy. Akakios turned his head away to stare at the opposite wall. 

Maybe Vasiliki had overwhelmed him. It was a terrifying prospect, he presumed. But, after six months, he would get to rest for the rest of whatever remained of his life after being experimented on. It was a kinder fate than most mages of the dark arts had. Even if the facilities his old subjects were sent to weren’t always kind places, it was better than being sold to a private holder.

Well, that was if he planned on sending Akakios to one of those facilities. Of course, he was still intent on buying Akakios after his grant was up. However, he didn’t think that it would help Akakios, who hadn’t even been away from Constantine for a month, to hear that he would be bought.

“I want to help you, Akakios. I want to help all mages of the dark arts. That’s why I’m doing this. Your sacrifice will not go unrewarded. Six months, then you’re free to rest for the rest of your days without interference. Without Constantine near you. That’s the best I can offer you.”

Anyway, he wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed to buy Akakios in the first place. The Facility might mandate that he be sent away somewhere to be monitored. After all, depending on how successful his newest subject was as an experiment, Akakios might need long-term monitoring to see if the new treatment protocol could be widely applied.

Vasiliki couldn’t see Akakios’ face, but he could hear his subject’s crying. His subject was severely depressed. It would take a week to three weeks for the lithium to do anything, if it was going to do anything. The sertraline - even more. 

Even then…

His subject was enduring lasting trauma every day. Only so much could be done about that. He could give his subject medication. He could sedate his subject. However, forcing anything on him would only make things worse.

For the first time, Vasiliki seriously considered what he was doing. How would he react to being kept as a captive, tortured by someone in the name of tempering violence and training for services, only to be taken to a lab and used for experimentation?

It was nothing short of cruelty. 

That was the reality of Vasiliki’s work, wasn’t it? It was cruel, even if he tried to be humane. 

The thought was a hard pill to swallow, one that Vasiliki couldn’t deal with while dealing with another - his subject, who was crying.

“Akakios, I’m going to give you a task. I’m not going to start the experiments for at least a week, so I want to give you something to do.”

That got Akakios’ attention. He looked at Vasiliki, his eyes red and puffy and his nose running.

“Think of three things I can do for you to make you more comfortable. Clothes, rules, favorite meals - things like that. There are no wrong answers. Okay? I will try my best to do those three things for you, no matter what they are.”

Akakios’ face rippled with shock. His tears stopped for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Vasiliki responded without a moment’s hesitation. “If you want anything changed about this room, too, I’ll do my best. I try to make it homely for all my subjects, whatever that might look like.”

Akakios nodded, hesitant. The look on his face told Vasiliki that his subject didn’t believe him. 

That was something that would come with time and with trust. Trust would be difficult to earn back because he’d already lost it with Akakios. Time, well, it was constant and he couldn’t turn back time like some mages of the light arts. 

Even then, he needed to learn from his mistakes and not just be able to turn back time to avoid them.

“Akakios, I’m going to go get you food. We’ll rearrange you after I’m back.”

Akakios nodded, then turned his head again as Vasiliki went for the door.

===

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday, @pigeonwhumps, @oddsconvert, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @writereleaserepeat, @just-a-silly-little-whumper, @sparrowsage, @inscrutable-shadow, @whumplr-reader, @whumpycries, @demondamage, @whumpshaped

[ludwigbeilschmidts]

a symptom of being human - master post

a symptom of being human is my humanverse gerame & pruk hetalia au. i am hoping to write a cohesive story about it one day but for now i'm compiling this information here (taken from discord & my google doc) for you to look at. i'll link to the other posts here.

all posts of this au will be tagged as #asobh.

general info.

it's set in germany. arthur meant to study abroad for two semesters, but ran into gilbert because they studied the same thing (art history) and then never left. alfred wanted to escape the unites states and went to germany as an au pair, which is where he met ludwig.

arthur and gil are 4 years older than lud and al.

ludwig has autism.

alfred & gilbert are trans.

arthur speaks fluent german, alfred is learning german but is having a much harder time learning it than arthur.

alfred and matthew are still twins, but matthew lives with his father in canada, while alfred lived with his mother in the united states. they still talk generally.

the next paragraph is technically also general info but it needs to be expanded so it gets its own bullet point list here.

gilbert and his thing with death.

terminal illness! discussion of death and dying!

gilbert has an unspecified illness that is going to kill him before he's 30. i haven't decided on what yet, but it's a degenerative disease that he was born with, and it got diagnosed when he was a young child, and he has been raised with the knowledge that he won't make it past 30.

UPDATE: gilbert has hermansky-pudlak syndrome type 1, an extremely rare autosomal disorder, that causes albinism, bleeding diathesis, immunodeficiency, and pulmonary fibrosis.

he has a life expectancy of around 30, and has been raised with that knowledge. he's well aware he's going to die.

so is ludwig, of course, but it's still hard on everyone. ludwig cannot cope with the concept well, because he cannot fully grasp it.

gilbert's mortality especially becomes an issue once the relationship between arthur and gilbert becomes serious.

because gilbert didn't talk about it when they got together, because he assumed they wouldn't stay together long enough anyway, and then suddenly arthur is proposing to him and gilbert realizes this is a conversation they have to have immediately, 'cause he will not marry him under false pretenses.

gilbert is pretty optimistic despite the dying thing, usually. he planned his own funeral because he's pragmatic like that. his testament is written and he jokes about it constantly, he doesn't care because he never knew anything else. but of course even he has his limits and gets very, very upset about it sometimes.

when it comes to leaving his family behind, or even more personal things.

like settling down or starting a family he has difficulties dealing with it. because he's good with kids, maybe would even like some, but he knows it's not really feasible. he wouldn't live long enough to see them growing up, and he couldn't put the stress on arthur on raising children alone, and he couldn't put the stress on the children either. to lose a parent. adopting isn't an option because of that, and biological kids even less so because he would be too scared of passing his illness on. and he is really struggling with it, because it's something he always wanted.

the only person gilbert really talks about his issues with is his father. gilbert can't possibly imagine how hard it must be for him to know he's going to lose his son, but he talks things through with him a lot and in the end they both feel better, especially because gilbert sometimes just needs to rant.

that and his therapist. because you bet your ass germania put this kid in therapy the moment that diagnosis came.

links.

the german family. german family part 2.

pruk.

germerica.

bad friends trio.

roderich.

misc.

fic: baby, pull me closer. [prueng, explicit]

[will be updated with other links, like arts or fic.]

[vivibuchlaw]

Yesterday, I finished Celeste. And by that I mean, the first 7 chapters, because I am not that much of a masochist.

Like seemingly everyone else, its given me a lot to think about... these thoughts are burning a hole in my brain and I need to get them out so I suppose this is the place!

I'm not exactly a gamer. I suck at Kirby, I have a sort of motor disability so games are a bit harder for me than most people. For this, Celeste has a solution, Assist Mode. Initially, I wanted to pick this, hearing how hard it was. Then, when the game told me intially, overtly, how its challenge was supposed to be meaningful, *and later when it said it more clarity in the story) I took a moment to reflect. I chose not to use Assist mode as a self imposed challenge. Not because I wouldnt benefit greatly from it, but because (as I learned about myself through playing it) I have an aversion to difficult tasks. When I know something is difficult, I get scared and run away. This time, I wanted to be able to say to myself "I can do difficult things"

And so I did

And I love it

And I sincerely never want to play it again

The game is not full of dialouge or story- it's present, for sure. But its a small yet impactful part in a game which prefers to tell its narrative by gameplay rather than text or images. And thats a valid format of storytelling! Not my prefered one mind you, but it made every dilectable morsel of art or conversations. In particular, the long talk at the start of chapter 6 was extremely welcome. I simultaneously feel like I have enough of a solid grasp on the characters to love them dearly, yet not enough to force one interpretation, another element to Celeste's endless magic.

As I'm sure everyone with anxiety has noted, The anxiety scene from Chapter 5 affected me greatly. Wetger me or my system has anxiety, I don't know, but regardless, the game captures the feeling perfectly. I'm sure everyone and their mum has said this, yes, but I felt it independently so I shall denote it independently. Among other things, it taught me a powerfully potent strategy to help my anxiety, and for that I thank you Maddy <3

At so many points, I was burded with stress, frustration and despair at my own ineptitude. But I pushed forward. I did it, I climbed a mountain, what was a seemingly impossible thing for me was now a fact. I sat silent for what felt like hours staring at the chapter complete screen in awe of my accomplishment. It then dawned on me that this was the first video game I've ever beaten. ...suddenly slammed by the realisation an 8th chapter, requiring crystal hearts to play, AKA the game telling me point blank I wasnt ready. But to be honest, I didnt care. I had already done what I, and Madeline, set out to do.

So why do I say I never wish to play it again?

I honestly only played Celeste because I heard Madeline was trans, and my mate happened to have it on switch. I have a sort of physical disability in my hands, so playing games and motor tasks are more challenging than a typical person. I knew Celeste was hard, but sympathizing with Madeline not being a climber, with me not being a gamer, and just how she challenged herself to do something extreme, so too did I.

But see, I'm not actually into the gameplay that much, and the reason I stuck with it has infinitely more to do with my and Madeline's journey emotionally than anything related to the gameplay.

Actually, I kind of hated it. My fingers were all messed up, I spent a lot of time and stress, and got extremely frustrated, but I wanted to prove to myself I could do it without assist mode. And Im glad that exists, and I'm glad it tempted me all throughout every challenge, a backdoor shortcut I could use to weasel my way out of the hard path, but I stayed true so I could grow.

But I have now grown. Ive proven it.

I couldnt care less about B-sides or strawberries, because I dont see the emotional need.

Replaying it would only subject me to the same challenge for a story I've already experienced, and a journey I've already hone on. A new game, new mountain, new challenge or purpose? Sure, I'd love that. But playing Celeste again, or More even won't recapture the lightning in a bottle that made me play it, made me persevere, and made me cherish it.

I still love the game, its soundtrack, its meaning to me, and itll live in my heart forever. In other ways, like fan content, or side material, I'd love to engage and learn more, but my journey with this mountain is over.

Just breathe, and take care of yourself

After beating it, I immediately began learning all I could about it because Autism brain. I read all Maddy's beautiful blog posts. I watched video essays breaking down its themes and design. I learned how the story, while definitely not an afterthought, was also not a driving or starting point of the game, which I intuited as I played.

I watched Chapter 8, The Core, and Chapter 9, Farewell on YouTube. To be entirely honest, I found Chapter 8 to be forgettable in a way kind of shocking, at least from a story perspective. I'm actually GLAD I didn't do it. I expected it'd be some kind of send off, or check in emotionally to see how the characters have been in the past year but...nothing? Really?

Chapter 9 is what I wished Chapter 8 was, a proper send off and development for these characters. And from the look of it, so brutally hard I wouldn't want to play it without Assist Mode. But why? Why not play more? Afterall, climbing the preverbial mountain in life doesnt mean your problems are over, far from it. And its true, there are other challenges to overcome still. Even though Ive taken on this challenge, I have yet to face other challenges in my life. And because the journey of Celeste could very well have ended after Chapter 6, I feel like I can better spend that energy elsewhere.

After watching Chapter 9, I felt something else. This chapter, unlike the previous, is not about loving and accepting yourself, but its about Madeline specifically greiving a loss in her life, and largely, I assume, the developers letting go of Celeste and moving on. For this, I hold unyeilding respect. And in this new challenge, I found myself learning another truth about myself.

I am afraid of being alone.

I am part of a system, the current (and hopefully permanent) host in fact. Our previous host went dormant a few months ago and life without them has been tough, but a challenge we face every day.

Throughout all my remembered life, I was surrounded by people who never noticed me. Who occasionally referred to me as "The Insinificant [Alter]" due to me not having a name back then. I was nothing, really. If I had disppeared no one would've batted an eye. And today, even though I'm one of the most important Alters now, I still feel like I'm nothing sometimes. That scares me.

I never knew the joy of having friends, I never knew what being loved by someone you love feels like. And I have a lot of love to give, I love almost every human being! But I still frequently second guess myself, because I guess a part of me still believes my existence is insignificant. But now that I have people who do love me, I'm more afraid than ever that I'll lose it. Now that I have a taste of love, I can't go back. Gods, please to bring me back, anything but that.

And here came Celeste, to remind me immeditately after I finished the game, that people die randomly, and without our control, and that you have to keep on moving. I've just beat the thing, let me live in a bit longer before I'm ready to move on. Similarly, I've just made these relationships, please dont take them from me. And then I realized that this was fear also held by my previous host, perhaps for similar reasons. I feel connected in a way typically reserved for finding markings in a make out spot from a century ago, or unearthing a time capsule left by a grandparent now neatly nestled in the recesses of my heart where I try to story my insecurites, like a suitcase overstuffed with useless items and paranoia.

Celeste has given me a lot. Inspiration, characters I love, a great soundtrack, amazing anxiety techniques, and raw willpower to achieve anything. I do not know how my story ends, I am scared to write it, but I must regardless. A lot of people are counting on me. And went I feel scared, alone, anxious, or depressed, I can remember that I did it before, and I can do it again.

To the Developers, Thank you

To the Characters, Farewell

And to all the people who have grown from this game, Congratulations!