#it only tells you how they feel most comfortable existing or behaving and even then you often won't know the complexities of that comfort

[uncanny-tranny]

I've been thinking about modesty from a specifically trans lense lately. I was taught that modesty indicates shame, that modesty means you're simultaneously ashamed of being human and having a human body, but also that you are "purer" because you adhere to a hegemonic idea of modesty. Frankly, I just don't agree with this, and it was very much steeped in the idea of specifically christian ideas of modesty.

Before I transitioned, I felt very unprotective of my body because it never felt like mine to begin with. I didn't really care what happened to it, and while I was modest by other people's standards, I certainly didn't feel it. Once I actually started transitioning (and especially on testosterone), I've found that I'm so much more "modest" because I've become protective of my body. There's this stereotype that trans people start "showing themselves off" after transitioning, but I honestly feel the opposite. I'm possessive over my body and exactly how it acts and appears because I actually like my body, and it finally feels like mine. I'm honestly kind of selfish about it, and I think I've earned the right to be.

I made this post because I think this is an interesting topic, and I think it's interesting the ways in which we internalize the influences that be. It's also a reminder that no matter how you feel about things like modesty, you should adhere to what makes the most sense to you and what you are most comfortable with. There are pressures to be modest in this way or that way, but what truly matters is what you decide with your body and yourself.

[princessbellecerise]

With A Modern!Reader

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would react to a reader from our world

warnings | None

this is a work of fiction. i do not own these characters

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Jace is surprisingly cautious. It’s not as if he’s afraid of you, you’re just so…different that it takes a while for him to even approach you

When he does, you may think he’s being hostile but really he’s just curious

He keeps his distance at first, but out of everyone he’s the first to warm up to you

He likes hearing about your world, taking walks with you and listening intensely

He thinks it’s fascinating, but more than anything Jace would be the one not afraid to truly introduce you to his world, taking you on tours, showing you around and even letting you pet his dragon while he watches you with a smile

It’s clear that the main difference between your worlds is the magic aspect, so while he’s fascinated with all your technology, you’re fascinated by his dragons and the fact that actual witches exist

Both concepts are very hard for the other to grasp, so you and Jace spend your time discussing and having fulfilling conversations, telling the other facts and details about where you’re from and enjoying every minute of it

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon is amused

He is the first to believe you when you say you’re not from his universe because my gods, it’s obvious from your clothes to your speech you obviously weren’t raised in this world

And man, he gets a kick out of watching you struggle with the social norms, often laughing and whisking you away when your mouth gets you in trouble more than once

He scoldes you and tells you that things are different where he lives, that the social customs require you to remain proper and not curse out every Lord that has something problematic to say

He’d teach you how to ‘behave’ while simultaneously encouraging you to be yourself for his own sake, because Daemon loves watching you start arguments and debates, trying to catch his people up with the modern terms you’re used to

Of course, it never works but he looks forward to it nevertheless because it makes the otherwise insufferable events that much more bearable

Lucerys Velaryon

Luke is very cautious at first. Even more so than his brother, because while you talk like you’re from more advanced times, Luke is still convinced that you’ll view and treat him the same as everyone else in his world does

It’s only when you happen to bring up the fact that you and your siblings have different dads is he really interested in what you have to say

And when you tell him that the rumors you’ve heard about him don’t matter, that nobody really cares about blood that much where you come from, will he really start to warm up to you

You’ll see a whole other side to Lucerys that no one has really seen before; he’ll open up to you and tell you all about his worries of possibly being a bastard

Likewise, you’d tell him that you relate to feeling out of place seeing as you’re not even from the world. You’re used to people gossiping about you as well and when it all becomes too much, you and Lucerys have a way of seeking comfort in one another. This caused you both to form a strong bond over your shared feelings

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond is confused

He’s perplexed, and at first he doesn’t like you because he’s never met someone that’s challenged him so much

From your clothes to your speech to your strange gadgets, everything about you is just so…weird. He doesn’t understand where you came from and why, but out of everyone he’d be the most willing to get you home

During this time, you both would more than likely bond in a sort of frenemie way

Aemond with his constant teasing of your lack of knowledge on how things worked in his world, and you because of his so called out-dated attitude

He’d be shocked when you completely disregard his status and talk to him like he’s just a regular person. You don’t see him as Prince Aemond, just the Aemond that’s slightly stuck-up; which you also never fail to remind him.

You’re just so casual with how you interact and joke with him. And over time, Aemond finds himself more and more attached to you. Because by gods, all he’s ever wanted was for someone to appreciate him for him, and not because of his title or standings in the world

And you being you, you don’t really care about any of that and he can’t begin to explain how grateful he is that the universe decided to send you to him, even growing to be sad and a little more hesitant when it’s time to send you home

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon is fascinated

Less so by you and more so of the world that you left behind. And even more so of the trinkets that somehow came over with you

In all his life, Aegon had never met someone that had things that he didn’t. After all—he was a prince and that meant he usually had the best of the best

But you? You have things he’d never even dreamed of having. Like glasses that block out the light (perfect for his hangovers) and medicine to also help with the aftermaths of his drinking

He’s so fascinated when the guards empty your bag, never once hesitating to pick up your strange stuff and demand to know what it does

Of course, you have to tell him to chill out a little bit and that his title doesn’t really matter to you because you’re not from his world

And Aegon is perplexed, and honestly slightly jealous that he can’t control you, nor can he compete with all the technology that you have

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Out of everyone, she is the most understanding of your situation

When you first arrive, Rhaenyra takes you under her wing and never once makes you feel like an outsider. She’s a little bit hesitant, sure, but it’s really not all that hard to believe you

She’ll listen to you and when you need help, she’s always there to offer her aid

With her around, it’s super easy to understand the world that you’ve landed into. After all, Rhaenyra is happy to show you the ropes herself and fill you in on all the ways you have to act in order to survive in her world

You quickly become grateful for her presence because it helps to soothe all of the rumors and questions people may ask about you. After all, she’s no stranger to them herself

And with one look from the princess/future Queen, people are bowing their heads and running off, leaving their intrusive words abandoned

[suchawrathfullamb]

Opinion on Popular Fandom Opinions - Will Graham Edition

Feel free to reblog with your own answers.

Will and cooking: he knows how to cook very well, he grows his own spices and herbs, he is meticulous but not necessarily neat, but yeah, imo he can very well cook.

Will and food: he'll eat anything but he is critical, won't compliment unless he actually likes it; does not need distraction while eating AT ALL (I hate this headcanon lol); eats like a prince because he is annoying about looking well mannered; does understand about food and wine (not to the extent H does but yes); no I don't think he eats fast food out of choice, I think he's too pretentious, but won't complain if he has to eat it.

Will and fatherhood: terrible, we've seen him at it and he sucked both times. He's a narcissist and there are very rare scenarios where he would make a good father. He'd be the type to never fully connect with a child then complain the child is disconnected from him (as he did in canon); at dinner table he'd make the most basic questions like how was school but he's mentally disassociated. Would force his own hobbies on the child (abigail and fishing). Wouldn't be capable of telling their favorite color or favorite teacher at school. Would be good at protecting but emotionally byebye.

Will and his father: not close, he was just existing near him, his father was probably an alcoholic because he seems to have tendencies; probably aggressive since he believes his dark traits are passed on by genes.

Will and his mother: never knew her like he said, I don't think she was avoidant or emotionally unavailable bc he clearly only mentioned following his dad around meaning the mom was literally not there, I think she had the same condition he has, was probably schizophrenic or/and had ppd. headcanon his dad killed her

Will and Molly: distant, avoidant, distracted himself with dogs and whatever else, found her comforting but felt a huge urge to get the fuck off like he did the first chance he got. Cared for her but couldn't even say I love you back, so...

Will and Alana: hugh projecting his attraction for the actress aside he was physically attracted and desperately wanted to like the normal/good girl who behaved like a mother.

Did he know Hannibal was in love with him? Rationally? Yes. His subconscious dreamt about it. But he didn't believe it until Bedelia said it.

What type of murder husband he would be: unstable, unhinged, insane, would switch a looot (love you/hate you), devoted, passionate but acts nonchalant, possessive, horny.

Will and money: has a lot of it considering his work, paying Hannibal's sessions etc, but doesn't splurge or flaunt it, is financially conservative.

Petnames: doctor is definitely a petname. I do believe he would drop the babe but only 6+ years into domesticity. never ever "Han" (ew).

Top or bottom: switch but power, bratty and demanding when bottom but after awhile surrenders; pillow princess for sure.

Good Will or Dark Will: he was never "good", Hannibal set him free but didn't create anything in him.

[panicpixieplaygirl]

TOUCH ME (anakin skywalker)

notes: just a little something based around the au from this post. meant to be a drabble, ended up longer, doesn’t quite feel like a full one-shot tho. anyway, as always, hope it’s somewhat comprehensible and not just horny gibberish. enjoy

word count: 2.2k warnings: smut, female stripper!reader

MINORS DNI! 18+

The club is busy tonight, but even over the loud music and regular conversation you can hear a chorus of squealing and excited greetings from the door. You recognize the noise: a big spender has surely entered the building. But you can’t make out a name.

You follow the sound, making your way through the dim, colorful lighting and cloud of smoke, perfume & glitter, past the many pairs of hungry, perverted eyes that bite at your barely covered body. You walk with purpose, heels clacking loudly with every step, denying the yearning in your heart that hopes it’s him.

When you reach the other girls they’re already pointing his way to you, and you feel yourself quickly shrinking under his intense, blue gaze as he stalks toward you. You don’t know what it is about this one, something about him makes you feeble, makes your heart race and your cheeks hot. You’re thankful he’s always behaved & never pushes his luck like the rest– he’d be impossible to resist.

And, of course, it definitely didn’t hurt that you knew he was carrying a substantial wad of credits for you somewhere under that coat.

“Anakin!” you beam, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in tightly, squeezing your breasts against his chest and surely covering him in evidence of the visit.

He takes a deep breath, inhales your scent, & contemplates leaving altogether. He wants to touch you, to pull you in deep and close, but he’s forgotten how intoxicating you are, and he’s not sure if he can control himself tonight. He stands stoic, burning at each intersection of your body on his, stressed further with each breath pressing you impossibly closer.

You can feel him breathe you in, and if it were anyone else, you’d smack him away, but your body won’t let you; it feels too satisfying to have him so intimately.

But you know it would be too dangerous to blur any lines. You weren’t allowed to sleep with any customer, it only made things more complicated for the owners. It wasn’t that kind of club. And you were sure if you held him any longer, the already existing rumors would only worsen.

You clear your throat and pull away from him, opting to lay a hand on his broad chest.

“I hope you’ve been doing good.” With some men you could tell, they’d come in only when times were rough or only when times were good, but for Anakin, rain or shine, he seemed to find whatever he was looking for here.

He just nods shortly, his dark eyes not leaving yours, distracted, impatient. You can tell he isn’t interested in small talk.

“To my private room then?” You offer with a smile, maintaining the giddy demeanor that comes naturally with your working hours. Anakin nods again.

You take his hand and guide him to the back, through the door with your stage name displayed in bright gold glitter across it. The room was more than familiar to Anakin, and he settled into his place on your pink loveseat, watching you pour drinks for you both.

He’d grown to hate this room, hate how some of his most pleasant moments were restrained behind it’s locked door. It only served to remind him that you weren’t his. He wanted to have you wholly, to leave this place with you, finally fulfilled & accompanied, instead of alone & perpetually needing more. It angers him, but it angers him even more that his only comfort for his destructive emotions was the exact cause of them. You were the most bittersweet, addicting being that he just couldn’t quit, no matter how hard he tried.

“Quiet tonight, huh?” Anakin was never exactly chatty, but he hadn’t said a word at all.

“I don’t feel like talking.” He stated, classically blunt.

You were starting to feel put off by his affect, your heart twisting and dropping at his coldness. You know that you’re nothing but a distraction, a toy, but you’d thought you developed a relationship with Anakin. You were embarrassed at your naivety.

Your hand finds your remote on the bar and presses play, filling the room with music. You put your smile back together when you face him and bring his drink over, trade it for the envelope he held out to you, filled with credits. Heavier than usual. You set it aside and sip your drink as he does, gaining your composure before setting your glass down and slinking into his lap.

You straddle his wide thighs, your tiny mesh skirt sliding up your own, arms returning to his neck, hands coming up to tangle into the hair at the base, and all the while he didn’t move, hands lying stagnant at his sides.

He couldn’t touch you. It was bad enough that you were touching him, lighting him on fire. He didn’t know why he even came here. He needed to see you, but even just that was too much. If he touched you tonight, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and he couldn’t drag you out of here. No, he couldn’t do that.

“You’re tense,” you mumble seductively in his ear. “You should relax.” Your lips press against his jaw and feel it tighten. You hum and continue to kiss him down his neck, letting your hips fully sink onto him.

“You want it, don’t you, Ani?” The sweet name slides off your tongue in attempt to soothe him. You roll against him, sighing as the motion brushes your thinly veiled cunt over the rough material of his pants. You move again, grinding your clit onto the solid bulge that had formed under you, each little movement sending shocks through you.

You weren’t sure what had gotten into you, you could feel yourself getting slick, knot twisting in your stomach. You never had these kinds of feelings in this room. You knew you liked Anakin, you were attracted to him, in some way, but this was unprecedented; he was a customer, you couldn’t want him like this. But he was always so good to you, so sweet to you… and he felt so big, you were beginning to lose your grip on reality. But his hands still lingering at his sides keep you tethered.

“Anakin,” you breathe against his neck, lips brushing his neck erratically as you rock on him, tugging his hair. He wasn’t giving you a single thing, you couldn’t stand it. “Touch me, please. What did you come here for?”

You were growing irritated, almost wanting to stop and send the unresponsive asshole on his way, but needing so much more of him. You huff and let your hands fall to his pants, unfastening them and pulling them down enough to expose his covered erection, as massive as you dreamed. You’d never seen this much of him before, and it only made your need worse.

You sink your hips back onto him, hands resting on his chest as you resume grinding down on him, his near-nakedness allowing you to feel him so much more fully, perfectly stiff and dragging against you in the most mind-numbing way. Your clit had swollen, become more sensitive, more easily stimulated, made clear to you with each glide down his thick shaft. Your hands bunch in his shirt and give you leverage to slightly lift and drop yourself, riding him over his clothing and finally sending you flying, lost in the feeling.

Your eyes roll back in your head and calls of his name fall from your lips as you chase your orgasm, forgetting where you are, what he’s come here for. You’ve been in similar positions countless times, never did it feel as electrifying as this.

Anakin could only sit there, not saying a word, needing to leave, to escape your spell, but he was paralyzed under your hips, hypnotized by the feeling of you rocking against him, gripping him so tightly. He felt the heat radiating off of you, wetness spreading and seeping through your thong, cunt clenching and doing her hardest to suck him into you. His hands balled up at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to rip the stupid, skimpy cloth from your perfect body and bury himself inside you, pound you until your legs couldn’t move and you couldn’t make a coherent thought or sound. He’d carry you straight home with ease then.

He wanted to throw you off of him, put an end to your torturous, disingenuous teasing, but the noises you were making, the effort in your grinding, were telling him you wanted him, too; only making it even harder to face the idea of leaving this room empty-handed. You’d given him a new level of you, one that swung open a door he was trying so hard to hold shut. He wants to stop you, but he can’t, he wants it all, permission to let loose and do with you as he pleases.

“Anakin,” you whine, letting your head fall to his chest. You feel him breathing heavily, his cock twitching against you, and you can’t fathom why he’s acting this way. All you know is that you’re close, and you need him, and for the first time he sat nearly unresponsive to you, as if he were the toy.

“I need to cum. Touch me, say something, do something. Please, I’ll give you everything, I need you.”

A foul part of him relishes in it, you now victim to an act of your own kind, feeling what he’d felt for so long, needing him so badly, tormented by his needless resistance. With every passing second you become weaker, more dependent on him, relinquishing your control and giving him ownership over you. He can feel you giving in to him with every shared throb, every swirl that surges you closer to cumming. You’re drunk on him, the way he’s perpetually drunk on you, and he can’t hold back any longer.

His hands finally land on your thighs and slide up toward your panties, the feeling of your skin under his hands filling his blood with a savage lust that’s only further ignited as his finger grazes the sticky material covering you. You’re shuddering as his calloused finger glides on your clit, just enough to keep you on the edge of cumming, fluttering at his touch.

“You need me?” He asks against your ear, low and gruff, almost threatening, as if he was warning you of what that would entail, urging you to reconsider. “You don’t know what need is. I’ve fantasized about this pussy for years. Every time I come to this room I leave thinking about how tight you are, how wet you are, everything I could do to have you begging for me like this. Dreamed about fucking you every way possible.” His tone is apprehensive, but his hands are already pulling your panties to the side. “Can’t promise I’ll be gentle…”

“Ani,” the pet name comes out softer now, both on account of your weakness and the surprisingly exposed state the two of you found yourselves in. It could’ve gone terribly wrong for either of you, still could, but your want for each other exceeds the risk.

Anakin lifts one hand to your jaw and tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him, meeting his severe gaze. This night had shown you a lot of firsts, and did so once again; the man you’d grown accustomed to, comfortable with, now instilling a deep, delightful fear in you with just a look alone. Your burning body goes cold, except for your cheeks and your core, shiver running down your spine, tingle spreading through your cunt. What would he do to you?

“Say it.” He demands calmly, tugging you even closer, his beautiful plump lips just inches from yours. He’s nervous, but not that you can sense. After all, it could be a game gone too far, misread, waiting to be snatched away at the last second in some attempt to enthrall him in you even further, drag him along and keep him addicted to you.

“Tell me exactly what you want.” You feel his hand brushing against your inner thigh as he pumps his freed cock, your lips fall open in a gasp as he presses the large head of it against your gushing opening.

“Please, Anakin,” you whimper, pressing your hips down onto him, stopped by his fist. “Please fuck me, I want you.”

You’re shoved onto his much too big cock in a millisecond, mewling deeply at the sudden stretch of him. The long, breathy moan he releases soothes you, but only for a moment before he lifts his hips and presses himself further into you, holds you down on him, forcing the air out of your lungs.

“Oh, Maker, Ani,” you gasp, unable to stop the way you clench around him, amplifying the feeling of him filling you completely. He brings your lips to his and kisses you tenderly enough that it helps you relax, muscles easing as he begins to slowly lift and drop you down on his hardness. Something in your heart melts at the way he kisses you, sweet and eagerly, like he’s thankful for it.

There’s a stinging sensation in your cunt, but it only highlights the way he strokes your walls, already picking up speed. You can barely fit him all, but he rams it in, pinning his head against your cervix, smiling against your mouth at the way you whine pornographically.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

[artbyblastweave]

Have you got any opinions of Left 4 Dead 1/2's cast of survivors?

One thing I've been thinking about a lot lately is when a work of apocalyptic fiction treats the end of the world as a site for personal reinvention. On the one hand it's potent theming, because the questions of how you choose to behave when utterly freed from existing societal constraints, and how you reconstruct your sense of identity after total context collapse, are sort of inherently packaged in with the premise. On the other hand you're kind of playing with fire, because if you treat the apocalypse as something primarily liberatory or empowering for the protagonists I personally often find it offputting. Congratulations! Your personal growth was purchased at the low low price of the death of billions! You can get away with that kind of thing if you take it in a lighter direction and maintain, like, a deliberately mock-misanthropic tone, or play up the inherent comedy of a person whose life sucks so much that the apocalypse represents a step up- but it's a knifes-edge to walk. I've found that a satisfying synthesis is examine that act of personal reinvention as a coping mechanism, a story that the person doing it is telling about themselves in order to deal with the horror of their surroundings. Zone One by Coulson Whitehead and Rot and Ruin by Jonathan Maberry are pieces of zombie fiction that I think use this lens in an interesting way. I believe that Left 4 Dead is close-to-unique among Valve properties in that they actually released a close-to-standalone self-contained narrative starring game's the principal cast, in the form of The Sacrifice*, and I feel like the comic explored this dynamic in interesting ways, because the four survivors exist on a distribution between "Apocalypse-as-New-Lease-On-Life" and "Turbofucked," in ways that pointedly affect their behavior and outlook.

Louis, the eternal optimist, Certified Gamer, still clad in white-collar garb two weeks into the apocalypse, is revealed to have been the one of the four who had the most going for him before the outbreak, a middle-class job with a well-defined upwards trajectory. His dogged insistence that things will eventually be okay is implicitly informed by how badly his life got upended by all his coworkers going nuts and trying to eat him. On the flip side, though, the comic portrays him as having had the fewest actual interpersonal connections- the only person he interacts with in his flashback is his coworker Ray, and that interaction is defined by how Ray is nowhere near ride-or-die enough for Louis to risk coming into the office at his request. He barely registers that the guy in the bathroom who attacks him is a zombie. Make of this what you will.

Zoey was a step down on the ratchet-she was floundering, but it was a comfortable flounder that's likely familiar to a lot of us. Struggling in college, no direction in life, a would-be creative struggling to turn her interest in fiction into an actual career. Parents separated and at each other's throats- but she had parents, had support, had options even as she was treading water. The apocalypse is superficially her call to adventure, letting her live out the fiction she immersed herself in before the outbreak, and you see glimmers of bravado stemming from that- but that same genre immersion is directly tied to her decision to put down her father before his immunity was apparent, because they thought that they were living out a trope that they aren't. She embodies the gap between the nerdy apocalypse fantasy and the horror of actually living through that.

On the other end of things you have Francis, who's downright gleefully cynical about the apocalypse- marrying the assertation that they're all going to die, and that nothing will ever be okay again, with the claim that the apocalypse as the best thing that ever happened to him. Before the outbreak Francis had a strong social circle but was also slated for prison; the apocalypse eliminated the immediate threat of jail, but his pre-outbreak social circle very pointedly isn't around anymore, in a way he's kind of talking circles around when he brings it up with Zoey; he mainly brings them up in the context of contrasting them with how competent Bill is at navigating the apocalypse, and you can infer that his initial attempt to treat the end of the world like an opportunity for a party didn't turn out so hot. He very badly wants to be the guy who had nothing to lose, the guy who's having a blast, he wants to inhabit that role, but there's an undercurrent of performativity there.

Then you get to Bill, who genuinely had nothing, in a way that inform his post-outbreak behavior in really interesting ways. He had no friends, no family, no purpose, and he wasn't in particularly good health. The apocalypse is, in many ways, straightforwardly a step up from his previous situation, in ways that isn't true of any of the others- now he has friends, a goal, a reason to keep moving. The Sacrifice is interested in how that affects his decision making, for better or for worse- he's myopic, invested in the well-being of an extremely tight in-group at the expense of others, monomaniacally good at fighting the infected in a way that even the other survivors find somewhat unnerving. There's a sense in which the brave new world is Bill-shaped. Admittedly the brave new world killed him dead. But it killed him dead in a significantly more badass way than he otherwise would have died, and on some level that was probably his preference. (I don't really go to Dead By Daylight, but I'm tickled pink by their implication that getting to do asymmetric survival horror multiplayer forever is sort of like a Valhalla situation for him.)

[akutasoda]

Hello!!! Can i request where reader (us) gets injured very badly from protecting them ^^ especially Chuuya pleasee you can also add other characters♡ Feel free to ignoreee~☆

im glad you were strong

synopsis - they'd be dammned if anything happened to you, especially right in fron of them for their sake

includes - chuuya, oda, natsume

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, angst to comfort, mentions of injury, wc - 903

chuuya nakahara ★↷

if there was one thing that you and chuuya had in common was stubbornness. noticeably he was more stubborn than you but you had your own ways of behaving in such a way. this trait paired with your love for eachother often meant it could have dire consequences that started as sweet intentions.

and that was what had occurred. a mission with your beloved, nothing seemed to be able to go wrong but there always was exceptions. something had caught you off guard and still left chuuya blindly unaware. and that something was a quick flash of what seemed to be one of the opposition's ability users.

it didn't really matter to you which one because before you knew it you had jumped in the way. red flashed in his vision as he turned around just in time to witness you get injured and all of a sudden it was like one of his worst fears come true. the enemy was crushed under the weight of gravity in a mere matter of seconds that was only intensified by his anger and panic.

simultaneously, he grabbed your body and brought it to his chest as he sat you down properly to assess the damage. it was a rather large gash that ran from your shoulder and across to your wrist. he wanted to scold you, he really did as if it were any worse you most likely would've died on the spot. but you were still here and if anything he needed to get you medical attention.

he always wanted to protect you. he wouldn't know what he would do should you leave, but he knew you'd do the same. which was what you did. and no matter how much he scolded you you could only sheepishly laugh and tell him it was worth it to keep him safe.

sakunosuke oda ★↷

he was always extremely cautious about the line of work he occupied. especially when it came to involving you. the last thing he'd ever want was for you to receive his backlash for his mafia duties and it put you in danger.

but he knew how strongly you could feel about things and protecting him was one of those things. you were both well aware that either of you would go to the ends of the earth to protect each other. and you both would stick to that.

so when you offered to meet him after he finished for the day, seeing as he got let off earlier, you didn't think much of it. you greeted him with a smile and he did the same but immediately he could tell something was going to happen. his ability activated and his mond was filled with the gruesome image of you dying before his eyes.

so before anything happened he took you in his arms and to safety of the dingy little alley between the shops. he knew as long as he could see what happened next nothing could touch you. and so he was able to successfully loose the unknown assailant and then decided to just go home with you.

but even back in the safety of your shared home, those images stuck with him. what would he do with himself if he lost you? the image of you dying before his eyes taunted him constantly, playing at the back of his mind. and as he drew you ever closer at night, all he could think about was keeping you safe. even if he had to risk his life to do so.

natsume soseki ★↷

it was rather a safe assumption to say that not many knew of his existence - or rather the ones that did, normally didn't have the friendliest intentions. it always did concern you a little but you knew he was capable and so were you! and the fact he was under witness protection for a reason you didn't know yourself.

but recently he had really worried you by arriving home later than he planned. he informed you that something occurred at the play he had set out to watch but it had been sorted and there was no worries. you hated when he did this. but you both knew by this point what that met and so you simply told him to keep safe.

but it seemed the group that was out for him this time were a bit more persistent than usual. he had left earlier the next morning and around lunch you informed him you were heading out for a shop and he offered to join you. by no surprise, he asked you to meet just neaf the bar he frequented for some reason.

you smiled upon seeing that same calico fur approach you. but something was wrong, call it intuition or call it spotting the shady figure standing not too far away. and as that figure broke into a sprint, so did you. and rightfully you sent them running but not after they landed a few hits on you. once the coast was clear, natsume shifted back and immediately took his place beside you.

you smiled at him, saying it was nothing really. but he wouldn't exactly call multiple deep slashes 'nothing'. he knew you'd do anything to protect him and he would do the same to you. doesn't mean he wont scold you when you go out of your way to protect him.

[delusionalwings]

Hello, may I please ask separate headcanons for yan Satan and Asmo reacting to their darling not believing they love them cause their ex was the same as them please

― synopsis -> you don't believe it when he confesses his love for you because your ex used to say the same

― characters -> asmodeus, satan

― gender neutral reader

― headcanons

― warnings -> yandere content,

gaslighting and manipulation, blaming you, getting angry, trapping you in the relationship (satan)

tailing your ex, harming them indirectly, trapping you, emotionally manipulating you (asmodeus)

― a/n -> i hope i understood the request properly? have a great day/night

ex mentioned by they/them. you are romantically involved with character in this scenario

ASMODEUS

He's lowkey offended that you would distrust him because of an ex! He is Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust, the most beautiful being in the three realms and above all, someone truly in love with you. Darling, there's a reason that they are an ex and he is your boyfriend.

After tailing this ex for a few days, he is a little surprised. Hmm... They are no competition for him in any way so he shouldn't feel threatened. However, his heart aches on imagining the love you must have once held for that person. Despite being notorious for fooling around, you are the only person he has ever loved romantically. He is free from the pain of a broken heart so he doesn't know how you feel about your ex.

Do you still remember them...? Do you still think about them? Do you still have feelings for them...? Who do you think about more? If you ever stopped loving them, does that mean that you could stop loving him one day too?

His obsession seems to grow with every thought till he has driven him into a hysterical state. Sadly, he can't overcome this. And that's when things go wrong.

You are such a lamb, darling! You must be kept close, always where he can keep an eye on you. Who knows what may happen when he turns away.

He wouldn't believe a word that the likes of your ex utters... Rage fills him when he looks at them. If he ever finds them flirting with someone, he charms that person to leave so that your ex hardly ever finds date, or for that matter anybody who actually likes them. That will teach them about how to treat another person! Haha, but surely they will never get another chance to hurt someone ever again.

Now he is the one who's seeking promises from you. It does not matter if you are comfortable with the words that he is putting in your mouth. Maybe you need some more time before you can overcome your demons and truthfully make those promises but Asmodeus lacks patience now. You are everything Asmodeus ever wanted so tell him that you feel that same about him.

Let him tell you what you mean to him and give him your reassurance. He will believe all that you tell him as long as you continue speaking those words like a pretty bird. What do you have if not trust? How can he continue existing without your love?

SATAN

He does not like being compared to others in any form, not after being in the shadows of his elder brother since his existence.

When you finally confess the reason for not believing his promises, he gets angry, really angry and turns into his demon form. Despite knowing all about your past, he couldn't quite point his finger on the reason for your distance.

Not until now.

But this?

Your ex? Really? And now you are looking all hurt and even more aloof? How were you expecting him to behave after that?

He returns after cooling down and apologises, while his mind comes up with a new plan.

"You know my ex used to...," he would begin randomly without warning nowadays. It was irritating, especially during the times when the moment was supposed to be about you, about your relationship. Not some ghost of the past that you felt compared to but to the present and possibly the future.

When you finally muster the courage to speak against this injustice, he just blankly stares at you and shrugs. "You started this, didn't you? I thought this is what you wanted. You knew that I despise being compared to and yet you went ahead and did just that. When I return the favour, suddenly I'm the bad guy?"

Satan smiles inwardly on seeing the defeat and conflict on your face. Of course, he knows that sooner or later he would have decided to enjoy teasing you a little. All you did was make him show his true colours sooner and in this particular way. Now he makes you feel that no matter how far you run away, this is the fate that awaits you. The feeling of never being enough.

Your ex has a few things coming - all of those twisted and ugly. No human can make him feel that way and live unhurt. Death is an easier escape than what he has in mind...

[catholic-character-tournament]

Quarter Finals - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Shadow

In sonic destruction (the AI generated fan thing snapcube made a while ago) shadow was catholic or something which I think is reallyyyyyyy funny

Ok listen. I know this is a stretch but hear me out. He says “oh my God” in the Twitter takeovers so we know this is a possibility. I see him as a Christ-like figure because I saw his whole confrontation with Mephiles and was like “this is a thing that happened in the Bible??” and the pose Mephiles shows him in is literally like a crucifixion and Mephiles is meant to be a demon / false prophet reference. And also he’s called a demon in Shadow The Hedgehog 2005 then the guy who calls him that is like “I was wrong I’m sorry” and that also reminds me of a thing with Jesus in The Bible. But the biggest reason is his whole thing with Maria cause I think he’d come to earth and hear Ave Maria once and convert to Catholicism idk he’s like we’re comforted by a female familial figure named Mary sometimes called Maria?? And her color is blue????? Heck yeah I’m in because I Will Cry. Also feel free to share this as propaganda obv even if he doesn’t get in the bracket just. It’s funny.

I feel like he’d battle a lot with being seen or portrayed as a demon and how the aliens he’s related to very much look and act like demons idk lmao- and also I feel like confession would just be good for him I think he needs it for his mental health

There is a debate on the lovely website tunblr that Shadow T. Hedgehog is an allegory for Jesus Christ.

He is Jesus, idk what to tell you. He lived, he was sealed away, he was awakened again and deemed the ultimate lifeforms, he’s angry but not evil, does what he believes is best for people and the world at any given time. Total loser.

Vote for Shadow the Hedgehog

There seems to be some confusion in the notes. He is Catholic. It may not be explicit, but it can be inferred.

Shadow was created by Professor Gerald Robotnik, and for the early part of his life, lived with Gerald and his granddaughter, Maria Robotnik.

Robotnik is not a made-up name. Google Search results may only bring up pages related to the Robotniks of the Sonic the Hedgehog series, however, it is a rarely used Polish surname. Poland is a historically Catholic nation, and… come on. Maria is the most Catholic name ever. The Robotniks are Catholic. Shadow was created and raised by Catholics.

Now you may be wondering to yourself: Does Catholicism even exist in Sonic? The answer is yes, at least in the Archie comics, where Protestants are explicitly mentioned.

Couple this with the fact that several characters, including Shadow, have canonically taken the Lord’s name in vain, it is reasonable to infer that Christianity, and therefore Catholicism, exists.

So… while Shadow’s own religious beliefs may not have been explicitly addressed… at minimum:

Catholic is a cultural designation that Shadow will always be allowed to claim based on the family that made him.

Whether he’d actually want to claim that designation is a different conversation, but the other propaganda does a fine job of explaining why it may be appropriate to headcanon him as a practicing Catholic.

Now that we’ve established that Shadow has as much of a right to be in this tournament as anyone else, there’s one very important reason you should vote for him:

It would be funny if he won.

Thank you.

Essays are done!! Here’s some Shadow propaganda because the propaganda we currently have sucks and I need to fix that. While yes, Shadow being Catholic is a meme, there is more to outside of the simple “fandub said so” and its not quite stated its Catholicism but just how he behaves and his actions. There’s a lot of Sonic content so I will try to keep this brief. Gonna get headcanons out of the way.

Shadow is Chilean and so are Maria and Gerald Robotnik because I fucking say so and they’re Catholic. He definitely had un rosario next to his like. Bed or test tube whatever he slept in. So did Maria btw. Alright let’s move on because I am 100% correct.

Let’s start with some background for Shadow. Shadow was created as a cure for a girl called Maria and he grew to care for her as a sister and loved her deeply. He was artificially created but still holds a soul that is similar to Maria’s. Long story short, Maria is killed protecting Shadow who watches as she’s shot in front of him. He has his memories tampered by Maria’s grandfather, Gerald, who manipulates him into carrying out revenge on the Earth, even if Shadow ends up as collateral.

Shadow struggles with frequent identity crises, even before Maria’s death and always wondered what his purpose was, what he was made to do. Was he a weapon? Was he a cure? He’s the Ultimate Lifeform, but what does that truly mean? ? He’s Shadow, but what more is there to him? He doesn’t know what his purpose is other than what others have prescribed to him, and he guides himself through the will of others (something that he breaks through afterwards but not yet). Shadow at his core is self-sacrificing and constantly punishes himself. This is where you can see some of that good old guilt that everyone has been using as propaganda, but we also see someone who is giving and kind.

He is snarky in the game, especially when interacting with Sonic, but he’s having what is essentially an ongoing mental breakdown but keeps moving because it is his duty to his sister. He doesn’t believe himself important enough to continue on after her and sees it in himself to act out on “Maria’s wishes”. After the revelation that Maria’s final wish for Shadow was for him to make those on Earth happy and to protect them, he immediately sacrifices himself to do so.

Okay, that’s a lot and you’re probably asking “Okay, you mentioned he is a giving person and yeah he has guilt, but that’s not really Catholicism” and yes you would be right! So let’s go into the more important part of being Catholic. The charity, the community, the kindness, etc. Shadow is a very reserved person and has the habit of being a dumb teenager because well. Yeah. Anyways, he definitely has a soft spot for those he cares about and while his whole arc (in my opinion) is about finding the freedom of self-autonomy, it is also Shadow growing as a person and deciding not to save people because others have told him he needs to, but because he wants to. It is born from his soul and its his nature to care for people. It is who he is, and he knows it now. He’s not doing it because he’s a hero or because he is told to do so. Shadow is a very giving person and I think people tend to forget about that especially due to bad writing from the past decade or so. He is also stated to help out at food shelters and volunteers a lot. He is proud and a bit prickly, but he cares so deeply about those he loves. He is stronger with his loved ones and will always do his best to protect them. These are minor, yeah, but you don’t need sweeping and enormous acts to get attention for the good deeds you do. Most of what you apply of Catholicism is done at the personal level, between your friends, family, and community.He also goes to Mass whenever he can and if he can’t he goes to the capilla and also does the sign of the cross whenever he runs by a church. Cutting this off because this is already 740-ish words and I had to send these across multiple asks I am so sorry Catholic mod

Harrowhark

I'm pretty sure you've already got plenty of submissions for her so I'll just say she was raised in what is basically a cult (technically a nunnery but let's be real) dedicated to keeping the body of the thing that will kill God behind the rock. One of their prayers is actually "I pray the rock is never rolled away". Harrow is extremely devout as penance for her earlier heretical actions in the tomb as a child (spoiler!) so the Catholic guilt really comes through

imagine being a catholic nun and you meet god, but it turns out he’s a twitch streamer from new zealand who became god because everything got a little bit out of hand. and just before you met him you gave yourself a diy grief-fuelled lobotomy with the help of your best frenemy. imagine how insane you’d be. now multiply that insanity by nine. that’s the fictional love of my life right there.

she meets god. she’s not inspired

she’s number one practitioner of space Catholicism. The locked tomb is chock full of Christian (catholic) imagery themes metaphors etc. just look at her she’s got a bone rosary

They're Catholicism with extra bones. Everyone is a nun. They have what is basically a rosary made from knuckle bones. They technically worship the same God as everyone else, but they're waaaay more focused on The Body in the Tomb (Mary) and we get a moment where we find out that while everyone else prays the equivilent of The Lords Prayer, they're doing the equivilent of Hail Mary. And they paint their faces with skulls.

She thinks leaving dry bread in a drawer is taking care of someone. She's in love with a 10,000 year old corpse (the same one they worship). She spent ALL NIGHT digging with her bare hands to make sure a field had bones every 5 feet so she could fight her girlfriend - I mean, greatest enemy. Spoiler territory: She's been puppeting her parents corpses since she was 8 years old. Instead of grieving her dead girlfriend, she gives herself a lobotomy. She makes soup with bone in it so she can use the bone IN THEIR STOMACH to try and kill them.

The author is/was Catholic and the entire series had heavy Catholic overtones. https://www.tor.com/2020/08/19/gideon-the-ninth-young-pope-and-the-new-pope-are-building-a-queer-catholic-speculative-fiction-canon/ A good breakdown of how it's Catholic

Anti-propaganda (spoilers)

I love the Locked Tomb series but Harrowhark has daddy issues with God, had a childhood crush on God's cryogenic partner, and is in love with God's daughter, not to mention that she's essentially a bone-bender. The religion on her home planet exists in a way that is technically against the will of the canon in-universe God, even. All of this to say, Harrowhark is heretical at minimum if not an outright witch. Terrible Catholic. Burn her.

[muzzleroars]

hc V2 almost met Gabe in Gluttony but they heard the 'Machine, turn back now...' and decided that they had to obey the one authoritive human voice they heard in hell and backtracked to Limbo.

How do you think their friendship would develop when they do meet? V2 would probably be glad to talk to someone who is somewhat sane, and maybe they would appreciate Gabe's human form or would that be a source of awkwardness?

sjdhfgfg absolutely love the idea that for ONCE gabriel's whole little speech...works. like the only reason he does it is just a left over of his chivalric values even though it seems to have no meaning to the machines - give them the chance, he guesses, but it's become an automatic script of no consequence. until v2 is like "oh...ok. understood." it's glad in a way to get some direction while gabe is like ???????? IT LEFT?????? and he can sort of feel good for a bit that maybe his words mean something to somebody still. even some machine. at the very least, it was worth keeping it up until then.

i've talked about what i think their relationship would be like a little before, but i genuinely believe they have a lot they can relate on if given the chance - they are both based in violence yet are meant to act as protectors...and ultimately, they have both failed. however, this common ground hardly means they would get along at first - they see all of their flaws in the other, they see what they perceive as their own worthlessness, and that causes plenty of friction at first. what is v2 good for, still chasing after peace down in hell? humanity is gone and it has no one left to protect, yet it's still adhering to orders and programming that has absolutely no place in this world. it's small wonder v1 bested it twice. and what is gabriel good for? an angel without a god, still behaving like some kind of knight when heaven itself as rejected him and hell is being destroyed by machines. it's no wonder v1 bested him twice. they hate seeing themselves reflected back so plainly.

they wouldn't keep it up forever as they both come to terms with their realities, both taking one too many shots that just gets turned right back on them by the other. and gabriel would eventually see it's ridiculous, how he wants v1 to have a relationship with v2 yet he refuses to be civil; and v2 realizes how dumb it is to keep throwing insults at the one guy left in hell that might still appreciate the finer parts of its mind, the part that dreams, that has aesthetic senses no other machine does. And so they would slowly become more open to one another, the ice melting between them as they find more to share in than just their failure. yet there is something comforting in that foundation, one they don't touch for quite some time - they were both made for a singular purpose, and that purpose is now gone. they exist as beings never meant to be adrift, beings that should be discarded the minute they are no longer useful.

however, i think what proves to be most important for both of them is the far more human-like connection they find in one another - v2 was trained on human social models far more than any other machine and gabriel comes from the same creator as humanity. no, neither are an exact match as v2 is still very much ai, still a war machine with a coat of paint applied, while gabriel lacks much of humanity's creativity and power to fully self-direct, but it's a far closer approximation than either would have otherwise. v2 can finally talk about its imagination, about its dreams, with someone that understands (and even helps it interpret its more metaphorical simulations)...and honestly, i think v2 would like seeing gabriel's human face. he would apologize for its appearance now, knowing that the frostbite might be jarring - v2 doesn't really mind that either, though it does have protocols telling it how it should help him it has to keep ignoring lol it likes listening to the stories he tells it, describing all the humans this face knew and the simple things he would do with them even as an angel. over and over gabriel speaks on the kindness of the humans he met (of course, he was sent from god), how he was invited into their homes and shared food with them, how they always insisted he leave with a gift no matter how he refused. it's clear he misses them in a way many angels don't, but a way v2 does despite never really getting its chance to know them. so really their connection is one filled with a lot of mourning, a lot of grief for who they were and what they lost - it's outlet for feelings that had no other place before they met.

[thekoopalingsandstuffs]

What’s the story with Peasley’s dad? Does Ludwig know him? Do he and Peasley get along?

Okay, this'll be a long post, I think... To start us off, Ludwig and Haru have never met, but they will someday. Haru is aware of Ludwig's existence and is very supportive/excited to meet him. Peasley has told Ludwig about Haru, so he is... A bit nervous about a few things, but also excited to meet him.

Peasley's relationship with his parents is a bit complicated... In the divorce, he chose to stay with his mom, but that doesn't mean he dislikes his father!! The two parents are kinda opposites... Persephone is super... EVERYTHING. She loves her son and is VERY protective. Would fight off monsters with her bare hands for him. Not a day goes by without her telling him how much she loves him and giving him loads of affection. But she is also the parent more involved when it comes to trouble and consequences. Peasley doesn't get in trouble much, but even as a kid, he knew if he fucked up, to go tell his dad and not his mom. (PERSEPHONE IS NOT ABUSIVE- The worst she ever did was take away toys or give a 45 minute time-out)

Haru is definitely very chill and pretty careless. Not neglectful by any means! Just... Less. Even before the divorce, he didn't really go out of his way to give affection. And he gave almost no shits whenever Peasley did something wrong, regardless of what it was. Oh yeah, he also offered Peasley some Marijuana when he was eight years old. (Peasley didn't like it and never even touched weed after that) ... Yeah, probably shouldn't have mentioned that-

Okay, so, the story... Haru was not born royalty, but was still in a pretty wealthy family. Despite this, he still wanted to enter a royal family. (After a LONG line of other women, including Princess Peach at one point) Haru married the queen of the Beanbean Kingdom, Persephone. Persephone had not much interest in being the queen... Once she split from Haru, she was able to follow her own passion while he still ruled over the kingdom for her. They never "officially divorced"... Haru is still king, and she is still technically queen (You see, if Persephone abandoned the throne, then the next rightful king would be POPPLE, so... Yeah, Haru is the better option here) Persephone can return and reclaim power at any time/Kick Haru out of his position, but she feels comfortable letting him do it.

Haru is, at least, a competent king. The kingdom is small and doesn't need much maintenance, so it's an easy job. He is also pretty famous, even without being the king! So the citizens love him and are perfectly okay with a human who is not part of the official bloodline to be in power.

Before being the king, Haru was a musician and mildly famous celebrity. Today, in the castle, you can find him plucking his old electric guitar while listening to golden vinyl records when bored. (Fun fact: Peasley's middle name is Evanescence. You have his dad to thank for that.)

Currently, Haru runs a podcast, talking to other celebrities around the world. (He can speak a multitude of languages, most notable being English, French, and Japanese) so there is no shortage of potential guests that can be on the show. Anyone from upcoming TikTok stars to controversial, retired ex-celebs are welcome. Haru is also very willing to go on other podcasts and do gigs for people who really need the endorsement/validation. He's an all-around chill and agreeable guy who will do just about anything, just because he can. Being the king has obviously made him more famous than before, but he doesn't take advantage of his spotlight or powers.

What else... Oh yeah- Haru does a lotta weed. What famous celebrity doesn't?? That sorta explains his constant chillness. He behaves just fine without it, though... Hmmm... Ah! He also does cocaine! But only on weekends, and sometimes on podcasts, with his interviewee. (Only if the interviewee is old enough/already uses cocaine, though!!) "He isn't one of those crazy homeless crack addicts," as Peasley would explain. Which, I mean, is true. Haru doesn't act all insane when high and would never get high before doing professional king business or whatever. It's just, for fun.

I can totally see Haru being the kind of celebrity that Rango would look up to. As for Ludwig... I can imagine him being a bit overwhelmed while meeting Haru for the first time. Especially since he's used to knowing Persephone. Haru isn't very affectionate or loving, but he's very friendly and outgoing to complete strangers. (Persephone somewhat has trust issues... You need to become close with her before she showers you with her love. Haru comes, trusting you with his own life, right out the gate) Both parents can be a bit... Intense with their (positive) interactions with people.

Overall, I'd say Haru isn't the BEST father... Certainly not the worst, either! He probably could do better as of paying more attention to his son, being affectionate, and not getting high all the time... But Peasley still feels plenty loved by him. There's a reason choosing which parent to stay with after the divorce was so hard! When push comes to shove, Haru would do anything for Peasley. Be it kill a person, or just give the kid a hug. And when compared to Bowser, Peach, Madame Broode, Discord, Rex, and Hooktail, it's pretty clear that Peasley got lucky when it comes to parents.

[archivalofsins]

Ask game!

Muu - 🪢 A headcanon about their family

Haruka - 🍫 A headcanon about food

Fuuta -💤 A headcanon about their sleep

Mahiru - 💝 A headcanon about their love language

Mikoto - 🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at

Kotoko - 😺 An animal related headcanon

Oh, thank you for the ask!

Muu - 🪢 A headcanon about their family

We've been told that Mu's dad is a landlord who exports furniture, and her mom is a model. A part of me thinks it's funny to headcanon Mu's dad ae Mikoto's landlord for the bit. Yet another part of me is like those Teo jobs are heavily relayed to fraud, money laundering, and sometimes the illegal exportation or importation of goods. Not saying all people who have these careers do this, of course it's just something that came to mind, especially given the way Mu brags in It's Not My Fault.

Implying that a cover up of some sort has taken place. I headcanon that her dad and mom actually know what happened that day, which is why Mu has so much internalized guilt about it. Along with feeling useless or recognizing how much she was not needed and how things would be better if she just wasn't there. Not because her social group turned on her alone but because her parents may have made helping her in this situation seem like an inconvenience as well. Given that completely isolated feeling, we see illustrated in after pain. Because she relied on both groups to get something she wasn't getting from the other.

The board at the end also says something regarding her only benefitting off her parents. It's a bit of a sad hesdcanon, but I think about it a lot when we're mulling over Mu's case, especially given her praise seeking behavior that clearly comes out in response to being reprimanded.

She has this very I won't know if you're upset unless you tell me but if you tell me I won't really know how to fix it and I might think you hate me even if it's over something small.

I also think that she got the gift giving thing from her parents, particularly her mom. I imagine they may go shopping or out to restraints a lot. The dad isn't really present consistently, but they all spend time together, and he'd make time if asked. Yet, Mu probably doesn't ask because she doesn't want to bother him because he has a lot of very important business that's tough to handle, but he'll be here when he can.

Very normal family stuff is not as big as say Shinichi's parents just up and leaving in Detective Conan. Mu's parents clearly try to be present, but they very much just like Shinichi's case overestimating how independent and mature their kid is.

Haruka - 🍫 A headcanon about food

Since family came up; I think Haruka's mom could be why he has such a sweet tooth. Because she may have taken her kids to fairs or events a lot as children and gotten them sweets to snack on. Yet as Haruka grew older, it was something that his father may have found immature to continue. So, Haruka associates those sorts of foods with that better time and enjoys them on a rather emotional and comfort food level.

I think he may have been around expensive food to though. Like I always imagine his family is a bit well off but not as much as Mu's and his parents were kind of stickers for teaching their kids how to behave in public especially when it comes to eatting. So like his dad might have been that sort of you hold the fork this way type and you can't let him eat sweets all the time. Like we see him indulge in Milgram but his mom and dad in this scenario were maybe like this is a rare once in a while treat to only be had here.

So, I like to imagine Milgram gave him a bit more freedom when it came to deciding what he eats. However he Aldo likes when people care enough to go that's not healthy or i brought you some food like Mu does because if he was left to his own devices he knows he'd simply forget other food existed because sweets are that good. So, the things most would find overbearing about Mu or Mahiru, he would actually wind up seeing/feeling their behavior, is very helpful.

Fuuta -💤 A headcanon about their sleep

Oh, pre-milgram Futa was the type to game all night and sporadically sleep through the day. However, before college, he had a pretty proper sleeping schedule. He just got a bit indulgent after college started simply because he wasn't really interested in what college or adulthood really had to offer, so he took the why bother approach. He wants to have fun with people who like the same things he does, so of course, he might schedule his classes to be in the afternoon, sleep, or game most of the day, then ditch those classes. The teachers are stupid anyway waste of his school fees, really, but these others guys they get it.

In Milgram, though, I think his sleeping has been disrupted for a completely separate reason. As much as Futa blows up, he seems rather self-conscious and doesn't like being belittled. Unlike Mu, he's observant, but only of things he's neutral to. He can get blinded by his own opinion and speak without really recognizing how the other person is taking his words.

So, I like to think when he first got to Milgram he was too anxious about getting along with anyone here that sometimes he wouldn't be able to sleep and he'd walk around the panopticon at night similar to Amane going to get a warm glass of milk in that one minigram. Until he heard the noises from Mikoto's room and just started pacing around the eating area where the noise could barely be heard.

Then, when he got somewhat more comfortable, he could sleep without trouble until his verdict, which just kicked his general anxiety into super overdrive. Fucking up his sleep again.

Mahiru - 💝 A headcanon about their love language

Mahiru, for all her love for love, is to me only shown to love one love language above all else. Acts of Service.

She loves to receive acts of service, and she tries her best to mirror that for her partner. Lamenting about not being able to do it right because it's simply not the way she's best at expressing love. The love language she shows herself to be best at through her song and time in milgram is quality time, but she views that as inferior or not good enough. She's very good at actively listening, paying attention to others, and involving herself in their interests. So, good at it she doesn't even really recognize she's good at it anymore. It's not an active thing she has to think of doing she just does it.

Yet she wants the grand gesture to be fed by someone given gifts and feel pampered. So, she rightfully thinks if I like this they will too and communication begins to get hampered. Because it's like oh I liked it when you were just involving yourself with me and showing interest in my hobbies these grand gestures aren't really necessary..

"Why can't I do this right no one ever likes my attempts is the food bad is that it? I can cook better...I swear."

So she keeps going bigger, but it's literally just like they just want to hang out with you. Not all this they just like hanging out with you, and that's enough. Yet she doesn't really feel it is because all the books say its meant to be like this, and I feel best when they do this for me. So, I must be the problem here. I must be doing it wrong, and that's why things aren't working out. I need to try harder.

Like all correct sentiments, but the conclusion is incorrect. Some people just want to have a mundane non extravagant time and sit at joke just in your company, but that's a bit hard to grasp.

Mikoto - 🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at

Managerial observation skills. Dude was made to be either a team lead or work solo no in between. He can be polite but he seems like the sort to hate and I mean really hate watching someone do something in a way that he believes is wrong. Like he would rather be in a biking accident than have his name on a project he does not agree with fully. Yet, he'd be too polite to come out and say that. Plus, working well with others is necessary for the job he's in.

He can't just go off on everyone around him he needs to be cordial, especially if he was a subordinate.

Despite that, Mikoto is pretty present when it comes to recognizing the quirks and habits of others. He's also not too harsh when discussing those things and tries to work around people's individual habits. He's good at recognizing the potential and strengths of the people around them. Along with advising them on how they could improve, as seen with Haruka. So, he'd be very good at behind the scenes work, project management, and review. He has a lot of natural talent when it comes to revising the ideas of others and highlighting the strengths of an individual. He's just very bad at knowing and applying those skills to himself.

Kotoko - 😺 An animal related headcanon

Wolves wolves wolves, she really loves them. However, I think her love of wolves comes from the fact they're pack animals, and she always wanted to have a group of her own to belong to. Outside of them genuinely being cool and strong. We see the one, of course, but she runs with multiple and many eyes are shown in Harrow. It's a lot like how Futa was looking for that sense of community and comraderie through people. While cleverly highlighting how differently people respond to a mob of people vs. a pack of animals. A lot of the time, when it comes to people, most can agree that having a mob mentality isn't right, and one should recognize when they're going too far.

However, since Kotoko's is more related to animals than people, there's this naturalistic carnal visceral reaction to go these are animals if they see something bad they just attack it. So, they must have felt threatened. Animals don't have the same comprehension skills as people, so this reaction was more than likely valid. Comparing Kotoko to wolves gives this very real sense that even an animal would have intervened because what the other person did was just that bad.

I think Kotoko sees things in that very black and white way as well. Based on her answers in her first written interrogation and this is why she relates so heavily to wolves. However, even though she sees herself in that wolf mentality. I think she'd be prone to liking small animals or prey animals. Like ferrets, mice, hamsters, the littlest of the bunch. Cause along with her wolf mentality, she's very focused on protecting the weak. She thinks it's the duty of the strong to do so. The job of the wolves to protect the sheep. Making it very likely she would be a big fan of herding dogs as well.

I feel like she'd also have a tenuous relationship with hunting given the wolf pelt in Harrow.

[sirowsky]

Clumsy Heart

Part 2

@kurlyfrasier & @suttonspuds You both said that you wouldn't mind having more of these two, so here you go!

Description: Direct continuation of Part 1 of this story. Here we learn a bit more about the relationship from Pero's perspective, along with some sweet domestic playfulness.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Pero x female reader (no description), no y/n, friends to lovers, mention of trauma related to a near abduction, takes place at Christmas-time but not heavily holiday-themed. Word Count: 2910

Author's Masterlist

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   He’d been walking aimlessly for hours when he’d heard something that had made him stop.    There weren’t many things that could break through his mental barriers and make him look closer at the world around him, because it seemed like every time that he had, he’d ended up hurting people.    So, for the most part, he’d kept the world at a distance.

   But not that evening.

   Your screams had been so sharp that they’d seemed to cut through his being like knives, leaving him unable to ignore them.    If he’d been armed, your attacker would probably have died at his hands, but instead, you’d had to sit through a lengthy trial, made to relive the horrifying event multiple times before the verdict had finally been cast.

   The good news was that the man had been sentenced to life in prison, but the bad news was that you’d only narrowly escaped the clutches of a sadistic serial killer. Something that wasn’t so easy to shake off.    You’d been fragile for a long time afterwards, and even though Pero had never been the caring type, he’d felt compelled to make sure that you’d get through it.

   Maybe because it had rattled him too, knowing what the monster would’ve done to you if he’d managed to snatch you, or maybe just because saving you had made him feel a bit responsible for you.    But what he’d realized after a few months of being a part of your life, was that whatever the reason might initially have been, the reason why he’d remained by your side all that time, was simply because you hadn’t told him to go.

   And that was something that no one had ever done before.

   Will had endured his company for years, sure. But even so, that had never felt as comfortable or easy as being around you was.    You’d wanted him around, sought him out if he hadn’t come to see you in a couple of days, asked for his company and been happy to have it, even when he’d been grumpy or unfriendly.

   Deep down, he knew that he had, and still, behaved like that because it was easier to push people away than to put in the work and effort needed to build a relationship.    But you had never cared about that.    You’d treated him the same whether he’d been in a good or bad mood, whether he’d answered your questions and attempts at conversation, or not.

   So, when you’d suggested buying a house together, to cut costs and because you didn’t want to live alone with your demons, he’d been unable to refuse.    Because who else could ever tolerate him the way that you did?

   It hadn’t taken him more than a month of living with you, to understand that there had been deeper reasons behind his willingness to be around you.    But he’d stubbornly kept refusing to listen to that part of his brain, because you were his only friend, and he didn’t have the courage to risk losing that.    And more importantly, you were a victim, and he was your savior.

   That was a delicate situation to begin with and he was painfully aware of how easily your emotional health could be manipulated and broken.    So, he’d never even entertained the idea of asking for more. Never allowed it to take root in his mind.    You were his friend. Nothing else.

   And then Will had showed up.

   It could’ve just been that he was already desperate to tell you and simply took the opportunity as it presented itself.    But from the moment that those words had left his mouth… the moment that he’d breathed the lie into existence, that you were his partner… everything had changed.    Before he’d even gotten home and stolen that kiss, he’d known that a line had been crossed and that he’d never be able to go back.

   If he’d been brave enough to hope that you wouldn’t find the idea repulsive, he might not have been quite so shocked when you’d reciprocated.    Despite knowing that the dam had been cracked and that he’d never be able to bottle up his feelings for you again, he’d still tried to keep you away. Tried to scare you into not asking, not demanding the answers that he owed you.    But of course, you had seen right through him.

   You had looked so calm and determined when you’d ignored his feigned anger and drawn closer, letting your body press against his while you’d kept staring into his eyes, daring him to stop you.    He hadn’t even considered it.    Because seeing you like that, openly offering him your heart, was a dream that he had never dared to dream, coming true.

   And now, when he rested beside you, watching how heavily and comfortably you slept after several hours of love-making, it finally sunk in that even though it was a dream, it was also real.    You had kissed him, touched him, gone to bed with him, entirely of your own choice. He hadn’t asked or suggested it, only accepted what you’d offered, utterly bewildered with every second that you had given him.

   He watched the small pearls of sweat at the back of your neck slowly dry, while he listened to your steady breathing.    He gently caressed the tired muscles in your back until your skin cooled, then pulled the covers up over you so that you wouldn’t wake up feeling cold.    And an hour later, when you turned on your side in your sleep and reached for him, entangling your arms and legs with his, all without waking up, he suddenly wanted to cry.

   Because Pero had never really known how it felt to be wanted. Not like this.    And now that he did, a strange urge to grief for the many years that he’d been deprived of this precious feeling, tore through him with a searing burn that left his heart in agony.    But your skin against his was like a balm to the acidic sorrow that laced his blood.    Knowing that you wanted him was enough to ease even the most bitter feelings of abandonment and loneliness that had haunted him throughout his adulthood.

   He kept watching you all night, and even though your comforting presence wasn’t enough to stop the tears from falling, instead of brimming with pain, they were filled with love.    Never in a million years had he ever thought that he’d get the chance to show you that, and yet there he was, hiding it from you. Giving himself the excuse of not wanting to wake you when he knew damned well that you wouldn’t mind.    There was no reason to feel ashamed, but somehow, he still did.

   Perhaps over the fact that he’d hidden it for so long, or could it be because he just felt that completely undeserving of you?    He spent all night thinking about it, watching the sun rise and kiss your skin on its way up. And it wasn’t until you’d begun to stir, sluggishly trying to shift your body over to your back to ease the pressure against your side, that he finally figured it out.

   The younger women he’d brought home, the way he’d made sure to be loud and obvious about it… that was where his shame came from.    It had all been about you. About trying to make you jealous, or just provoke a reaction, anything that would make you talk about it so that he’d have an excuse to bring it up.    Because if you had, then maybe he would’ve dared to confess what it was that he really wanted.

   But instead, he’d only created a stronger barrier between you, undoubtedly scaring you into thinking that he could never be gentle with a lover.    He was proud to have proven that to be false, though. He’d taken the utmost care of your pleasure that night, making sure that you would never again even contemplate the possibility that he’d ever hurt you.

   And when a soft smile spread across your face even before you’d fully woken up, he knew that you’d seen that in him.    That you finally knew exactly what you meant to him.

-<>-<>-<>-<>-<>-

   He’d been crying.    You guessed that he’d been awake all night, but the red puffiness in his eyes wasn’t from fatigue. You’d seen that same expression in the mirror too many times to count, so you knew that it came from hours of tears.    But you didn’t mention it.

   He hadn’t wanted you to see it and that was a choice that he was entitled to, although you wished that he would’ve felt comfortable enough to let you see him even when he was broken.    You’d known from the beginning that he wasn’t an open book kind of person, and you knew that being with him would include accepting that he wasn’t always gonna let you in.    Fortunately though, you’d already been living with him for years under the same conditions, which meant that you also knew that you could manage it.

   So, instead of asking him why he’d been crying, you allowed the contented smile that you’d woken up with, to linger in your features as you stretched and finished waking up. Hoping that it would infect him and make him forget whatever had made him sad.    It seemed to work, because when you turned back towards him and nestled back into his arms, he was smiling too.

   “Good morning,” you offered, noting that your voice was even more rough than usual, probably because of last night’s workout.

   “Morning. How are you feeling?” he answered, and even though you’d heard his deep gravelly morning voice many times, it was different when you could feel it in his chest too.

   It made your skin prickle with delight.

   “Perfect,” you purred, and felt him soften just a fraction, as if he’d been a bit worried that you would’ve somehow come to regret being with him. “Are you okay?” you added, giving him the option of just saying yes or no, in case that was all he could manage.

   “I’ve never felt so good before, Galleta,” he whispered, tugging you even closer. “I have wanted this for a long time.”

   It surprised you to hear him confess that, but you didn’t doubt that it was true, given what you’d come to realize about him the day before.

   “I’m really happy to hear that,” you said, smiling at him, “because I’ve always tried to make you feel good, but you’ve never been all that receptible before.”

   He didn’t answer that, but you saw a little bit of insecurity creep into his eyes.    You wondered if it was because he was remembering all the times that you’d joked around or played pranks on him, attempting to make him laugh.    It was a strategy that had hardly ever succeeded, but you’d persisted anyway, convinced that there was a happy little kid somewhere inside of him still.

   “Can I make you breakfast?” he suddenly asked, bringing you out of your own head, and your smile widened.

   “Omelets?” you asked in return, certain that your face was looking ridiculously excited.

   He made the best omelets you’d ever tried, but you’d always had to nag him for it and even when you had, he’d most often refused anyway.    You’d never been able to work out if it was just to tease you or if he was too lazy or if maybe he just hated to cook. All three options appeared to be equally likely.

   “Sure. Anything for you,” he smiled back, which made your brows furrow.

   “Seriously? You’ve never agreed so easily before…” you questioned, and he chuckled warmly, making his chest flutter briefly against yours.

   “I never had much reason to give in before. Being mysterious or difficult to understand was the only card I had to play, in order to keep you interested.”

   “Pero… I asked you to live with me. You’ve never needed to work on keeping me interested, I always have been,” you reminded him, and heard him hum in a bemused way as he considered that.

   But instead of continuing the conversation, he seemed to decide that it was time to get up, and pulled you along out of the bed.    You snagged a clean t-shirt from his closet while he just threw on some boxers, and then you headed for the kitchen where the brown little army was still littering the counters.    To check if they were still good, you grabbed one and took a bite, glad to discover that they were still crisp and fresh and could be gifted to the foundation.

   “Hey!” Pero startled you by snatching the cookie from your hand. “I’m making you your favorite eggs and you go and ruin your appetite before I have even started?”

   “Don’t be so dramatic, it was one bite to make sure that they’re still edible,” you countered, waving a hand dismissively in his direction while you started looking for a jar to put the gingerbreads away.

   Then this playful giddiness came over you, and you snuck another cookie from the counter before quickly stuffing the entire thing into your mouth before he could stop you. And he did try to stop you the moment that he realized what you were up to.

   “Are you serious?” he huffed, equal parts amused and disbelieving, as he let go of your hands and took a step back, accepting defeat.

   “…fhat?” you tried to sound innocent, but there was too much cookie in the way, which just made you laugh instead.

   “I can’t believe you just did that,” he accused, but his eyes were full of mirth as he watched you splutter crumbs everywhere with your giggles.

   You chewed quickly so that you could answer, throwing a witty glare at him as soon as you’d swallowed.

   “Says the man that kissed me without my permission.”

   He’d started trying to clear some space on the counter next to the stove, but hearing that made him pause and turn back towards you, and he looked so mischievous.

   “Yes, because I love you, querida,” he declared with a very warm kind of smirk that made your knees go all wobbly.

   You’d never heard him say that word before, not to anyone or in any context, and still he said it with such ease and comfort. As though he’d always felt that in his heart and just needed your permission to let it out.    He was such a belligerent character ordinarily, always ready to fight people and always expecting someone to disappoint or hurt him, which was why seeing this soft side of him was making you feel special in a way that you never had before.

   Because if he was willing to let all of his defenses down and open himself to you, then you must mean more to him than anyone else ever had.

   “Good,” you teased, letting a few seconds pass before giving him the confirmation that he was looking for. “Because I love you, too.”

   He smiled at you then, in that way that only the happiest feelings could make a person smile, and you knew that you wanted to see that in his eyes every day for the rest of your life.    You stepped closer to him and he eagerly snagged your waist, which made the t-shirt that you were wearing slide up, sending a cool brush of air over your backside.    He took full advantage of this, sliding his hands over your bare cheeks and pressing you closer to his hips. But in his eyes, you didn’t see want, only adoration.

   “I’m sorry,” he suddenly whispered, catching you completely by surprise.

   “What in the world for?” you questioned.

   But his smile was still there, so you weren’t concerned, only disbelieving because you really couldn’t think of anything that he should feel sorry about.

   “For not being brave enough to tell you sooner. For wasting so much time…” he explained, and you shook your head at him.

   “You took as much time as you needed, Pero. That doesn’t make you a coward,” you soothed, and saw his eyes begin to grow wetter.

   He really didn’t expect anyone to be kind to him or offer him any understanding and it broke your heart.    But it also comforted you to realize that at least the fact that he was telling you this, meant that he was beginning to learn that you were different, and that he could trust you not to hurt him.

   “It makes you mine,” you concluded, holding his gaze and watching the confidence build in his eyes as he listened. “Taking all that time to be sure that I’m the one you want, means that I’ll get to keep you, and that’s all I need to know.”

   You were highly aware that by saying this, you were also acknowledging that you belonged to him, and you were perfectly fine with that.    Pero had a possessive side which you’d been aware of for a long time, since that had to be one of the major reasons why he’d been unable to leave you ever since saving your life. Even though that had been exactly what a big part of him had wanted to do.    Just walk away and be free of any responsibility or requirements.

   But he hadn’t.    And in truth, that really was all that you’d ever needed to know about him.

THE END

Thank you for reading and I wish you a happy 2023! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging so that others might find it as well <3

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[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen,

My sister is a butch like you and she works on a farm. I love her to pieces even though we have polar opposite personalities- I'm chatty and outgoing, while she's very reserved and prefers being outdoors to big social gatherings. It makes me happy to see you living so well and enjoying your life, especially because I can see through you a glimpse of what her future could look like decades from now, and I know that there's a path to that kind of adulthood out there waiting for her. It's really lovely to see someone who has done it already. Do you have any advice on how I can support my sister through whatever comes up in the future? Sometimes I feel like I can't understand her the way she needs.

best wishes from anonymous

Thank you for all of those kind words. I am happy in so many ways and much of that is due to my comfortability in being butch and my gratefulness for being a lesbian and out and content with my attraction to women. It certainly took some time to get to where I am in life.

My big sister is 20 years older and straight. She is what some people call gender non conforming in some ways and in others ways she is not. She was my hero growing up because she did what she wanted and how she wanted. If she wanted to put on a full face of make up and get wine drunk and go horseback riding with the girls, she did it. When boots and bedazzeled bell bottoms were no longer in style she doubled down and made a matching purse and belt.

She was the first person to see the Tomboy in me, or at least the first to acknowledge it. She gave me my first "cowboy " play set, my first cowboy hat and she never hesitated to give me "boy" tasks like carrying heavy things or climbing on a newly purchased auction pony to see if it was "rideable" (it was not-- I have scars).

My point is, sisters can be an immense source of recognition for our unique personalities and needs. Butch lesbian sisters often still want that sister connection and time to bond. Sisters know most things about us if there is a good relationship so it is nice to just "be" without pretense of how we "are supposed to act" or how we are often expected to behave as butches. She can just be butch, natural and comfortable, without performing or being concerned she is too much or not enough.

Let her know she is still your sister, not "man like" not "not woman enough" but your sister and you share that unique connection sisters share and her butchness does not detract from that. It is a part of her. Her reality. And you love it about her because it is entwined in her existence. Don't dwell on it or constantly remind her she is butch. She knows. Everyone knows. It is nice to just be. And be with someone who knows all about you and loves you just for you.

You might never understand how she relates to others as a butch or exactly what she contends with being perceived in a way only butch women experience, but you do understand how women are put under pressure to follow the expectations of any given culture.

If your friends (or hers) say dumb stuff like "i wish I was a lesbian, dating butches would be easier" when trying to relate to her, or worse, things like "why do you try to look like a man?" gently but firmly correct them. Tell them why that is just not nice and makes pretty much everyone uncomfortable, butch or not.

It sounds like you love her and have a special bond. Knowing her sister wants her to succeed just as she is with no expectations or narrow roles to follow is a great gift you are giving her.

[pomegranarchy]

Have You Any Faith? Chapter 5: Reluctance

wordcount: 3,422 content warnings: alienation, again. coping with family loss link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47796682/chapters/122165881

---

reluctant: adjective re·luc·tant

1: feeling or showing aversion, hesitation, or unwillingness 2: having or assuming a specified role unwillingly

The Wordsmith stares down at her shellwood carving. It looks like a bird, but only if someone were squinting at it from a distance and happened to have one eye.

"I don't think this is working," She admits.

Hopper takes a look at her sculpture. "Why not? You're holding the knife just fine, and you're doing better than most first-timers."

She's thankful that he mentions nothing about her concealed hands, despite it making the task harder. He may be the person in Gravel she most closely considers a friend, but not even he has an idea of what lies beneath her layers. Surely, he'd consider her larvae-like at best. Monstrous at worst. Sighing, she brushes a wood chip off of her lap.

"This doesn't resemble anything in my head. If I didn't know what it was supposed to be, I don't believe I'd recognize it."

"It's alright. That's why you asked me to help you, isn't it?" Hopper gestures to his own sculpture with the tip of the carving knife.  "What are you trying to make? Maybe I can tell you how to get it closer to what's in your head."

The Wordsmith bites her lip. How much can she describe without having to explain the concept of warm-blooded creatures? Or having an internal skeleton?

"It's… a creature from where I come from. They're called birds."

"Birds." Hopper repeats. He rubs the bottom of his face, considering. "What do they look like?"

"Well, they're… shaped and behave like maskflies. There's a lot of variety to them, but they're all covered in feathers. Feathers are…" Here, the Wordsmith pauses. What makes the most sense to a bug? "A feather is made of a thin shaft, like a flexible piece of carapace. Attached to either side are hundreds of tiny soft fibers. They look a bit like fuzzy antenna, but they're firmer and used for flying."

Hopper makes a noise of acknowledgement. When he doesn't immediately reply, the Wordsmith can tell he's trying to imagine feathers. She spends the silence wishing that the chairs in his home were more comfortable.

"Do you like these birds?"

"I think they're alright. They can be very pretty. It's… it was my father, who liked them. Loved them, really." She taps the sculpture's uneven head.  "We both loved to watch little things, I think. He would spend his time birdwatching, and used to tell me about the birds he'd spot. Where they went to build their nests, or if he'd seen one splash about in a puddle. It wouldn't surprise me if he'd ever considered becoming an ornithologist."

"What is a orin… tha-loh gist?"

"Ornithologist." She pronounces the word clearly, enunciating each syllable. "It's a person who is well-studied in birds. Ornithology being the word for the study itself. I think studying the little things sort of ran in our family."

"What's your little thing, then?"

"Oh, mine is…" The Wordsmith hesitates. "Bugs, actually. The ones that don't talk, like tiktik and vengeflies. Where I come from, bugs are smaller than even those, and meeting another who could understand you was… rare."

Impossible, actually. But it's not like Hopper needs to know that.

"Hm. It would be, if our King's influence couldn't reach you. Your home sounds too far away and strange for that."

The Wordsmith wonders what the hell that even means. Is every bug in this kingdom so loyal? She considers the way Tiak speaks a bit overzealous, but maybe that's just the standard way to refer to the royalty here? Almost reverent, and as if they had godlike power. She's not sure how she feels about that. Does feudalism exist here? Nevermind. It's not as if she's in a position to figure that out. Instead, she shrugs.

"You're right in that. To me, this place feels very strange."

"Hmm. How did you travel? Walking? You wouldn't have stag beetles to carry you around places, I'm guessing."

She gasps. "You have stag beetles? That's a species I was wondering whether lived here! They have such beautiful and impressive mandibles, it's a--"

"Woah, there!" Hopper waves his hands in front of him, laughing. "You're awfully eager to see a bug of your type, aren't you?"

"Ah…?" The Wordsmith blinks at him, then finds herself blushing furiously. "No! No, I didn't mean to-- oh no."

Hopper only laughs harder at that. "It's alright! It's alright, we all have wants. I can't blame you for them. But I should warn you, stags don't have very impressive mandibles at all."

"They don't?"

"No, I'm afraid you're chasing after the wrong type of bug."

"I swear that's not..." Yeah. He's not going to believe that she wasn't lusting after a big beetle. The Wordsmith sighs with disappointment, dreading when this conversation falls into Gravel's stream of gossip. "I see."

Hopper chirrups, tapping his leg against the floor. "Ah... well, for your bird, I think there's a pretty easy solution." He waves a hand, gesturing for her to hand it to him. Carefully, the Wordsmith cups it in her palms and deposits it in his grip. As he takes it, Hopper turns it over. He nods at it, then at her. "It's like your dreamcatchers. They don't have to be pretty and perfect in order to work. It's what you feel when making it, right?"

The Wordsmith stares at him, then back at her ugly little sculpture. She's not sure what he means by 'work,' since they're only grass and string. It makes the village folk feel better, though. Enough that Tiak does his best not to outright beg her for extras to give to traders.

She nods. "Right."

"Then think about how much your father loved birds. I'm sure he would love that you made him something to make him happy, and tried so hard." Hopper holds up the sculpture to the lumafly lantern in the ceiling, illuminating it better. The Wordsmith watches him. With a different perspective, it does look nicer. Maybe it isn't a very good sculpture, but… it's not like the point is quality. The point is to remember, and to love. Beneath her mask, she smiles wistfully. She imagines giving it to her father, explaining it's supposed to be a heron. Then they both laugh over how wonky it looks, and he sets it on his windowsill so it can look outside.

"He would." She holds her hands out for it. "I think I'm ready to show it to Humi. Thank you, Hopper."

"Of course!" Hopper chirrups, delighted. As he sets it in her hands, he stands. Together, they step outside. The walk to Humi's-- home? Shrine?-- is shorter from Hopper's house than her own. There isn't yet a name for what Humi's old home has been turned into. In a way, the Wordsmith believes the bugs of Gravel are waiting for her to provide one. She searches her mind, and decides she'll tell Hopper once they get there.

The place hasn't changed much. If anything, it's only become more cluttered. Some objects have spread to the worktable, work-in-progress bracelets, carvings, and drawings. Finished pieces are pinned to the walls and stacked precariously on the main table.

The Wordsmith's hands cradle her sculpture.

"Place it anywhere there's room," Hopper mumbles idly. "Maybe we should get shelves in here…"

"I was thinking," The Wordsmith starts, "about what we should call this place. It's not quite Humi's home anymore, is it? Not her's alone, anyway. It's a bit of everyone's; the people that are remembered here, and the people that remember them."

Hopper looks up at her curiously. "It wouldn't be right of me to say I wasn't waiting for you to decide on that. What have you got, Wordsmith?"

She smiles a little at the title. It's yet to feel like herself, but she's come to accept it as truth. "Gravel's memorial. A memorial is a place that's dedicated to remembering a person or an event. This memorial-- Humi's memorial-- would be dedicated to the people important to Gravel."

"Ah. Yes, that sounds right. Where do you get all of these words? It's as if you have an endless store of them."

The Wordsmith shrugs. "Some of them were taught to me. Others I taught myself."

It's a true enough explanation, while avoiding the details that would invite further questioning. She leans over the table, and places her sculpture down. For a moment, she simply stares at the heron. She brushes her hand across its beak. Hopper remains quiet, giving her the time to reminisce. Eventually, she stands straight. Just as she opens her mouth to speak again--

"Wordsmith! Woooordsmith!!" Tiak bolts inside, startling the two so badly that Hopper falls over. The Wordsmith yelps, holding an arm out to Hopper before flinching back. Tiak continues to jump and flail about, arms and antenna waving erratically.

"Tiak!" Hopper barks, rolling about on the floor. "What's gotten into you?"

"There's a bug asking for the Wordsmith!"

"And? Help me up, boy! My legs aren't so spry anymore!" Hopper holds his hand up agitatedly. Tiak squeaks apologetically, crouching in order to tug Hopper to his feet.

"I'm sorry! It's just, oh! Wordsmith, it's like one of your stories!"

"What?" She says. "Tiak, you ought to calm down. Let's step outside." What’s gotten into him? Sure, Tiak can be a bit excitable, but nothing so extreme as to knock people over. It begs the question of what kind of story he thinks is going on. She sends her memory through the ones she’s told, as if it’ll help any.

"But-- okay! But quickly, quickly!" He dashes outside just as fast as he came in.

"That boy…" Hopper grumbles, brushing off his wings. The Wordsmith sighs sympathetically, following close behind. Even if she knows he’ll be fine, the fall worries her. Just outside, Tiak paces about in a tight circle. As soon as he sees them, he jumps up.

"Wordsmith!! Do you know how important this is??"

She fights to keep the annoyance out of her tone. "No. You have yet to explain what this is about."

He shrieks. "It's a high class looking bug! He came in on the trader's road, but he's got fine clothes and a shined up carapace! He said that he's from the palace, and he kept asking if this is where the Wordsmith stays, and if someone could go get you because the King is asking to see you!"

The Wordsmith laughs. "A king, wanting to see me?"

This is like a story! Imagine royalty wanting anything to do with some random stranger. Covered in rags and old dirt, no less.

"That's what he said!! And he said it was very important, too!"

She starts to giggle, only to realize that Tiak is being serious. This isn't something he would dare joke about. Coming to her senses, she presses a hand against the bottom of her mask. What would a king possibly want from her? To demand citizenship, maybe? But why take notice of her specifically?

"Did… did the bug say why?" She asks.

"It's about your dreamcatchers! The Wordsmith who makes the dreamcatchers! He said that the King wants to see you, and heard that you lived here in Gravel!" Almost desperately, Tiak waves his hands about. "Please, you need to see him!"

"I… alright, Tiak. No need to repeat yourself. Take me to see him."

"Yes, Wordsmith!" Tiak scurries off without so much as a warning. The Wordsmith watches him for a second. Even if she started running now, she wouldn’t catch up. Given that the result will be the same, she glances at Hopper.

"Don't wait for me. Maybe in my younger days I could keep up, but now my joints are too brittle for big leaps. I'll catch up." He waves her off. Accepting this, the Wordsmith starts after Tiak.

It takes a bit longer than she expects. Mostly because Tiak rushes out of sight too often, then has to come careening back for her once he realizes that she's behind. He has to duck back and wave her forward out of a deadend, or to explain she went down the wrong road. She didn’t think Gravel had so many paths. Through it all, she can’t tell if he's annoyed with her or merely frantic.

Eventually, they reach the edge of the village. Standing in the road is a bug dressed in a white cloak of some kind, long antenna stretching from his head. Around him are a few curious bugs, trying to prod him with questions.

"Come, come! Here! Here, look!" Tiak skids to a stop, waving back and forth between the white-dressed bug and the Wordsmith. "This is them! This is he! Wordsmith, meet…?"

"Tymm." She initially resists the urge to raise her eyebrows, then realizes no one can see it behind her mask.

"A pleasure to meet you, Tim. What brings you here?"

"I come from the White Palace." His wings buzz a little, ruffling the cloak laid over them. "The Pale King wishes to see you, to talk about your dreamcatchers."

"They aren't mine," she clarifies. "They're only something that I've helped bring here."

Tymm doesn't seem to acknowledge this, simply waving a hand in the air. "Come with me."

"Right now?"

"Yes. The sooner the better."

"I see. Allow me to say my goodbyes, first." Of the bugs assembled, she sees Thea gasp and press her hands against her face.

"You'll be returning." Despite his impersonal tone, the Wordsmith is offended. Why the rush? Can’t a king bear to wait a few minutes longer?

"Even so, I don't wish to abandon the bugs that have welcomed me into their homes." The Wordsmith bows her head a little, then turns to Tiak. He stares imploringly up at her.

"Don't delay, Wordsmith! Don't you see? This is like one of your stories! You're off to see the Pale King himself, and he'll have you marry him or the Queen, and you'll be a monarch yourself!"

The Wordsmith blinks. "I don't… think I should come between their marriage."

"I don't think that's a problem," Tiak says, oddly reminiscent. "He did make that arrangement with the Queen of Beasts! And you said yourself how important the spiders are! Someone as talented as you will fit right in!"

"Is that so…?" The Wordsmith cautions, uncertain of what to make of that response. Is the king polygamous? Does the queen not mind, or is she as well? Who is the 'queen of beasts'? A spider, presumably, but what arrange--?

"The Pale King wants to see the Wordsmith about the dreamcatchers alone." Tymm interjects, a hint of agitation in his tone.

"Or he could marry you to somebody else!" Thea cries. "Imagine that, the King himself making your marriage official! What an honor to have the Wordsmith as a spouse. A union blessed by the Pale King!"

"What's this about marriages?" Hopper says coyly, arriving just in time for embarrassing assumptions. "Wordsmith, I never expected you to be so open in your interests. Now is hardly the time!"

"No one is marrying anybody," Tymm says, now clearly annoyed.

"That's right," The Wordsmith hurriedly agrees. "This is to be an unromantic visit."

Thea sighs disappointedly, but she doesn't know why. Previously unnoticed, Lu peeks out from behind Hopper. Something is clutched against her thorax, hidden by her arms.

“Then let us go,” Tymm says.

"Wait!" Lu cries. She fidgets, ducking behind Hopper. He pats her back reassuringly, and she peeks out again. "Before you go?"

Her tone is so hesitant, so sweet, that it reminds the Wordsmith painfully of her youngest cousin. Only a baby, when she had first seen her.

"Of course,” She says, with as much compassion as she can muster. “What is it?"

Lu hesitates, remaining behind Hopper. But eventually, she steps out. In her hands is a small, round object. Slowly, she stretches her arms out to present it. The Wordsmith crouches down, looking at it carefully. It looks like a shellwood pin. There's a design etched into it, resembling the faces of various bugs. She thinks one is meant to be Hopper. The little one in the front is clearly Lu. The Wordsmith smiles, charmed by the wobbly, inexperienced lines.

"It's very cute. Do you mind telling me what it is?"

"It's a gift! So that you can stay safe, like you made me feel safe. I know it's not finished, but… I want you to have it, before you go." Lu stares down at the ground, unable to look directly up at the Wordsmith. Her heart aches.

"Oh, that's so kind. But I… Why don't you finish it for me, for when I come back? That way when you give it to me for the first time, it'll be done."

"But…" Lu glances at the object. "I don't… I don't want you to forget us."

Ah. The Wordsmith answers with as much reassurance as she can.

"I won't. I promise. You've all been very kind to me, and I would never forget the bugs who've helped me.” She places a hand over her chest, trying to summon as much sincerity as she can. The eyes of the other bugs rest on her, bid into silence by the exchange in front of them.

“Besides, I won't be leaving forever."

"Still… you can…" Lu looks up with shining eyes. "You can keep some of me with you. So you won't forget me."

Before the Wordsmith can answer, Hopper steps up.

"Come now, Wordsmith. You're a gift to Gravel. You deserve a gift in return." Hopper holds out for the object. Lu gives it to him, albeit reluctantly. He pats her on the head, then starts to run a finger over the carved lines. "This has care in it. It's meant to make you happy and keep you safe. And Wordsmith, I think you've more than deserved that much from us. You've cared for us, after all."

"That's right!" Thea cries. She sidles up next to him, holding her hands out. Hopper gives her a look, but passes it to her without a fuss. Once it’s in her hands, she presses her face against it. A kiss? The Wordsmith wonders. She hadn’t realized these bugs did that as well.

"There. For you to think about when you get lonely! You'll know we're all here to support you."

Tiak bounces up and down, waving his arms as if they’ll lift him off the ground. Only once it’s been passed to him next does he settle down.  

"Yes!” He cries, hugging it against his thorax. “We'll never forget your stories, and you'll never forget our faces!"

Hopper extends an arm for it, and Tiak gently passes it back. The item is returned to Lu. She clutches it tightly, staring one at a time at the bugs who touched her gift. Then she nuzzles it over her forehead. After a final, long, thoughtful stare, she speaks again.

"Yeah! All of what they said. You can keep us with you, and you won't get lonely or anything."

“Then I would be a fool not to accept it. Would you do me the honors?” The Wordsmith smiles, though she knows nobody can see it. Gently, she holds her hands out. Lu’s antenna perk up, and she beams at her, dropping the item in her hands. There is silence as the Wordsmith turns the item over in her hands, examining it. "Thank you. This is so very sweet, and I… I'm flattered that I've come to mean this much to you all. I've done my best to earn my keep here, and to help where I can. I never expected anything more than basic needs in return. Thank you, all of you."

She looks down at Lu.  

"I'll make sure to keep it with me, okay? It'll be my good luck charm. Then when I come back, you can finish it and it'll work better than ever." She grips it tightly, feeling her affection twinge at her cheeks. When was the last time she smiled so hard it hurt? For just a moment, she thinks the charm shimmers with life. Better not to lose the dear thing. Assuming it to be a trick of the light, the Wordsmith merely affixes it to one of the hanging pieces of fabric covering her. Lu bounces in place, nodding eagerly.

As she stands, Tymm gestures for her. "We should get going. There's a Stag Station we can take."

"Of course." With one final goodbye, the Wordsmith departs. “Thank you all, again.”

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine being like Haleth’s and Caranthir’s adopted kid.

(Not sure where this idea came from, but I just wanted to make something with a pyromaniac reader, then this came up. Imagine Caranthir and Haleth being like Diluc and Jean with Klee reader as their child. If you understood that, wassup fellow genshin player. Enjoy!)

Warnings; Mentions of death, orcs burning alive and battle. 

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-First things first. You are an active pyromaniac, and you love blowing things up.

-You were taken in by Haleth's father after the destruction of your home and the death of your parents.

-Orcs took you as a prisoner but then you had set the orc camp on fire in despair and anger.

-Haleth's father then found you watching the burning orc camp and listening to the screams of the orcs as they burned alive.

-You were only seven of age, so it was a wonder how you did it, but Haleth's father took pity on you, and then you became part of their company.

-Haleth took care of you, treating you like family, so you two were close.

-She was also the only one who knew how to deal with your fire tendencies.

-You don't mean to cause harm or destruction. You just find the flames fascinating, and it brings you some sort of comfort being near the fire.

-You became fascinated with explosives and started making bombs, despite being a child and the adults telling you you shouldn't do it.

-When Haleth became the chief, you wished to support her and kill orcs with fire. You had done it before, so you had no problem doing it again.

-Haleth understood your grudge against orcs but told you no because you were still a child.

-She gave you simple tasks like setting a bonfire and keeping things dry or warm. They were a couple of things that allowed you to control the urge to set things on fire.

-She allowed you to go with scouts in some rare cases, and you were allowed to use bombs to set orcs on fire if you saw one.

-Sometimes, Haleth tries to help you by having therapeutic talks and activities to relieve stress and keep your focus elsewhere.

-You were known as the fire child or the firestarter to the company. The people were used to your antics, and you were dear to them like you were to Haleth.

-When Caranthir came into the picture, he was shocked by your existence.

-You had secretly joined the fight when the orcs ambushed the company. You were throwing flaming cocktails, setting them on fire. You bombed them like crazy.

-You had things a child shouldn't have in possession.

-Haleth was angry with you, so she gave you one epic scolding in front of the elven lord.

-You didn't like him at first and even flipped him off when Haleth refused his offer.

-He had met some unruly children before, but you were the most abnormal he had seen so far.

-After settling down in your new home, Haleth becomes political with Caranthir, so you saw him often.

-You would often blow some orcs up outside your home, which unsettled him and led him to have many talks about you with Haleth.

-Haleth would tell your history and pyromaniac tendencies and say he shouldn't worry about it.

-Caranthir would still be unsettled by a child who loved explosives, so the two sometimes berated how to raise a child.

-You didn't like him at all because you think he's rude to Haleth because she was a woman.

-You would sometimes intimidate him by holding a burning cocktail in your hand as you two talked.

-You told him you were not afraid to set him on fire if he tried anything with Haleth.

-He wouldn't feel much threatened but avoided trying to piss you off because Haleth told him you lacked impulse control.

-You could set him on fire without hesitation, so he doesn't want people to know he got set on fire by a literal child.

-You behaved when Haleth was around, so you didn't threaten him often.

-The political truce would go well, but when you saw each other more often, you became more casual around him and stopped with your threats.

-He once brought a gift to you, telling you he wanted peace and assured you he was not going to harm you or Haleth, so he brought you an offering.

-You accepted his gift with excitement, and the peace was settled.

-Haleth would be suspicious at first but was okay with it because you stopped threatening to set him on fire.

-Caranthir would keep up a meeting with Haleth's people to keep up with the truce and possibly form an alliance, but sometimes he was willing to come to see you because you looked up to him with joy and excitement.

-You grew to like him and started calling him names like lord Carcar or the pointy-eared man.

-He didn't mind because you were a child

-He unintentionally brings you gifts after the first one. It sometimes slips into his mind when he sees something you might like, be it candy, toys, or firecrackers which was safe for children.

-Haleth started spending time with him on casual days and noticed his changing behavior around you.

-She would tease him for growing a soft spot for a child. Even though; he appears arrogant and prideful toward humans.

-He would defend himself, and they start bickering like usual.

-In your eyes, Haleth and Caranthir started to appear as a couple in your mind.

-Caranthir seemed to grow fond of Haleth, and you were defensive at first but then noticed some signs that she might like him back.

-They see each other often, go hunting together and talk all the time. The two also bickered like a married couple.

-They also took the matter of raising you very seriously.

-Haleth thinks it should be for the best to train you in combat and improve your bomb-making skills. You should also be able to live as a child before considering your future.

-Caranthir thinks you need medical care because he thinks your pyromaniac disorder could be cured.

-They have different opinions and tried some methods to deal with your fire tendencies, but they still allow you to choose what you want to be.

-You secretly want to be an arsonist. 

-When Caranthir became a common occurrence. You accepted him and considered him as part of your strange family.

-You even became physically affectionate with him and hug his tall legs from time to time.

-Physical affection wasn't Caranthir's best feat, and he often just pats your back when you hug him.

-He didn't try to be rude. He wasn't just the most affectionate elf in middle earth.

-Haleth would tease him a lot for that.

-He would feel embarrassed but couldn't deny that he had grown soft on you like with Haleth.

-When you two once came to his city for a visit. Haleth had to do something and left you with Caranthir.

-You were scared by the new environment and asked to hold his hand for comfort.

-When he saw how nervous and scared you were, he sucked his pride and held your hand while you waited for Haleth.

-It was supposed to be a harmless gesture, but after a few days. There were now rumors that Caranthir, the dark, had a child.

-He would have a hard time controlling his temper with the rumors because of how embarrassing they were, especially when his brothers asked about it.

-You didn't share a lot of similarities with your look. You looked more like Haleth, but you did have a similar temper to him.

-The thought of you being his and Haleth's haunted him to the core. He did like Haleth, but the thought was just a fever dream.

-The incident kinda helped them both get close.

-Caranthir and Haleth started having an affair, and you knew all about it.

-You were happy about it, and you once accidentally called him dad.

-He would explode all over again and suffer endless teasing from Haleth.

[bitbrumal]

      long post on diluc’s reclusive tendencies & specific pain re: kaeya.

diluc’s persistent agony regarding kaeya’s secret, is not a petty refusal / inability to admit his own wrongs unless he gets to blame kaeya too.           it’s not even necessarily blame in the sense of deeming kaeya’s lies / deceit wrong. by now, he has accepted that the cards his little brother has been dealt necessitate deceit - even of him, especially of him. for a long time he wished he could not forgive it. now he’s grateful.

it’s the agony of knowing that to the one person who only ever saw him as him. who didn’t see ‘diluc ragnvindr’ as a concept, a thing to respond to the way one must to those with power & status.                        [ “please don’t lie, adelinde. you don’t have to lie. it’s okay-” “you are very dear to all of us, young master. please don’t fret.” & she’s not allowed to speak ‘out of turn’, to tell him how she feels, to be a real person to him--& it’s fine to her because this is a job. it was diluc’s private life. he has so many strangers in his private life- ] the only person who didn’t lie to him about the things that matter: who loved him without conditions.          crepus changed diluc.       kaeya changed for diluc - changed from a frightful boy who didn’t want anything into one who dared to hold his hand. but also, less positively, would be the one to apologise or take the blame not bc diluc ragnvindr but bc diluc my only friend who i love dearly please don’t leave. ( diluc’s guilt at seeing that fear would always turn them into a feedback loop of no i’m sorry’s. )

but now?

from the very start - especially to kaeya, he was only diluc ragnvindr.

to this day diluc doesn’t really know who the fuck he is, torn to & fro by everything everyone wanted of him; & all the ways he had to behave in order to get some kind of honesty out of the people who approached him. but he does know that the only times he felt... easiest, felt most like he was flowing from some point inside himself instead of hoisting himself into a corset held out to him by others... were always, & only, with kaeya.            because kaeya was awful, in many ways. he was mean, & cruel, & took to his vulnerabilities like a goddamn vampire - until crepus sat them both down & calmly explained that kaeya was taught by cruelty, & that he learned to be cruel to people he wanted to be close to. that it did not work that way here, that he would lose diluc if he continued to act like that-- & diluc, gullible little boy that he was, never ever saw any reason not to believe anyone. it didn’t make sense to his brain that words would be spoken that weren’t true. but you pick up on people’s feelings, too.

the boy who taught him the simple ways people lie, so he wouldn’t be taken advantage of so easily anymore. the boy who held his hand & laughed with him or shared his resentment at crepus’ conditional love - even if diluc’s was buried deep. kaeya... where diluc ragnvindr was a person instead of some kind of trophy. father wanted him to be excellent. the staff that fucking raised him wanted him to play the part required of him so they could play theirs, instead of begging for sincerity - he is only their job, only their distant most eligible bachelor, the uncrowned king, lord ragnvindr, diluc ragnvindr. he doesn’t fucking exist.            by now he cannot find himself at all anymore.

           the only one who looked at him &, instead of wanting the corset demanded the truth - who saw his vulnerabilities & his everything & engaged those instead... kaeya, who took to the real him like it was the only obvious thing. that orphaned boy was the only place in diluc’s world where he existed. & that wasn’t always comfortable, but it kept him aware - that he wasn’t the thing father made of him, even as he lost whatever the fuck else he might’ve been.

but they only got that close- every actual reason for them to be close, was that kaeya had to... he was just a target.

& now that, due to everything beyond kaeya as well as his confession, diluc’s literal ability to trust people is non-existent? he can’t talk to kaeya because he cannot believe a word out of his mouth - hates himself for wanting to trust blindly. he doesn’t want to hate blindly anymore either, but he’s so inherently... trusting. it’s one or the other; he must compensate so hard just to not feel like he’s selling himself cheaply again.      & he can’t. he’s too simple - his mind doesn’t work this way & neither does his heart. he loves, & he trusts, especially because there is nothing left to love or trust. & even when he knows people’s cruelty he just trusts them to be that way... there’s no point demanding insincerity from people. let them lie, if that’s what they’re like. if only they wouldn’t ask him to play a part too.

diluc’s,,, autistic & very, very kind. it just doesn’t click in his head. things pretending to be what they are not makes no natural sense. he cannot... abide by the white lies & not so white lies people tell. the truth, no matter how painful, is never a cruelty to him - but it is demanded of him to lie at every turn. little lord ragnvindr, etiquette. the perfect fucking gentleman, & nothing else.

he keeps kaeya at a distance because he knows how much he needs him still, how little he cares for being loved truly- because it’s not a real option & he’s had to live with that forever already. his own father did not love him - he’s used to it. & yet, if he yielded like he knows he will if kaeya insists on continuing the lie - it will also break what’s left of his heart.

                what distance continues to exist between them is because there was always distance, apparently, & diluc just no longer wishes to lie to himself. to have to. let everyone else; at least he won’t. let them be vapid & meaningless, & he to them - but not he to himself. if he is to find himself at all he cannot continue to be what people ask of him. all they give him is the negative space that can be filled in by the part he’s supposed to play. so then, he’ll simply not fill any of it in at all. he’s going to lie to himself again anyway; he cannot keep this up. but he wishes he could. & he tries so hard. & if he must be a cold, distant bastard to someone who’s already made it clear that they’re not... close, anyway. then why doesn’t he get to? everyone always cheats him. no-one ever cares - especially when they say they do. why does he have to keep allowing it? he just wants to find some way to speak to kaeya that won’t involve being lied to or humiliating himself -- blindly hating OR blindly trusting, & he cannot be anything but blind around him now. in general diluc finds it difficult to understand people. having no-one who speaks frankly with him does not help that in the slightest ( kaeya was the only one who taught him to see, not to play along ), so he’s just... isolating himself in hopes of being in the only company that won’t lead him astray.         but he can’t heal, either.

& kaeya can’t tell him the truth. so he can’t try to heal - which is ignoring the fact he quite likely doesn’t deserve to be healed by him. ( not unless kaeya decides otherwise. but that is exactly that sort of ‘kindness’ people would feign in his direction - play along with the delusional young master, don’t burst his bubble. that’s rude. if the young master says your his friend then you are. somehow that makes sense to them? it does. because they go home to their real families. it’s professionalism & apathy; their job. like a customer service smile. i love you. )

& if kaeya actually did speak plainly. he will be telling the only truth that isn’t too good to be true - he just.. knows he won’t be able to handle that. kaeya was the one thing that made diluc want to live, because he was the one thing that made it possible for him to exist within his own life. & now, all of that, is the same simple lie everyone’s always told him. & the only reasons he fell & falls for it is because there is something wrong with his mind that makes him gullible. a fool, forever.

                     yeah, he’s quite done being around people.

p.s.: so in my portrayal, ‘gentleman diluc’ is fake as fuck & he doesn’t actually feel connected to anyone who he acts that way around. if he’s being seamlessly polite you know he doesn’t feel like a connection is even possible lmao so u get gentleman diluc bc that is all u want & he’s tired of asking for anything else.