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#there are so many complications right now
starcurtain · 1 day
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A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine
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I was morally obligated to use this picture.
Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.
First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:
In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:
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It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)
The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.
Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.
While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.
But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.
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Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.
When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:
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(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)
But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.
Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.
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"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:
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There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.
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The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.
Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.
Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)
So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.
Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.
(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)
Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:
From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.
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At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."
Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.
Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.
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Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.
Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)
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At first, this line might read as all over the place:
"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.
"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.
"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.
"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.
The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.
Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.
But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.
In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:
First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...
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The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.
Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.
This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:
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But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.
The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.
He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.
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It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)
But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.
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This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.
He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).
Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.
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This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.
Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.
Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.
Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.
In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.
And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.
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What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?
The guy whose motto might as well be:
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Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?
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A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.
Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.
This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."
Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.
And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.
The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."
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So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:
Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.
He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.
He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.
So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.
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Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.
PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!
Now there's just... everything else... 🫠
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Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.
So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:
It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.
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Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.
Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.
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Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.
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Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.
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Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)
At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.
Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.
They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.
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Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)
Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.
Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."
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They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."
Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.
Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.
Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.
They just... fit.
And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.
Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.
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Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...
Then there's this:
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Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.
On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.
Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.
Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."
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Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.
On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.
If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.
And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.
(I just... love them so much...)
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starsjulia · 3 days
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casual // leah williamson
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a/n : a long angsty one based of this request
warnings : angst with a happy ending (ish?), fwb
The rain always seemed to hit harder on nights like this, when you were alone in your apartment, the silence weighing heavy around you. Your phone was lying on the coffee table, screen dark, as you tried your best not to stare at it. Not to pick it up. Not to send the message you swore you wouldn’t send this time.
But the temptation was always there. Leah was always there. Somewhere in the back of your mind.
It had been two years since this thing between you had started—this complicated mess of blurred lines and unspoken rules. It had begun like most bad ideas do: with too much wine and one reckless decision. A kiss that turned into something more, with promises of “this is just for fun” whispered between sheets. You were friends, after all. Close friends, nothing more, nothing less. And that night, it had been easy to believe that you could keep it that way.
But nothing had been simple since then.
You sat there now, curled up on the couch, blanket pulled tight around you as you stared at the empty space beside you. Two years of stolen moments. Late-night texts. Meeting up when the loneliness felt too heavy to carry. Always on her terms, though. Always when she had time. You had told yourself it was enough, that you were fine with the arrangement. After all, Leah had been honest from the start. She didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t have time for one, with her football career and all the responsibilities that came with it.
And you were fine with that. Or, at least, you pretended to be.
Because the truth was, you weren’t fine. You hadn’t been fine in months.
The problem with pretending not to care was that it became harder and harder to keep up the act. You were good at pretending, though. Pretending not to feel the sting of her absence when weeks went by without a word. Pretending not to notice how she never stayed the night, always slipping out of your bed before dawn with some excuse about training or early mornings. Pretending that this arrangement, this friends-with-benefits setup, was still just casual fun for you.
The truth was, it hadn’t been casual in a long time.
Your phone buzzed on the table, breaking through the quiet tension in the room. You stared at it for a moment, hesitant, before reaching for it. The name on the screen made your heart do that stupid, traitorous leap in your chest.
Leah : You home? x
Three words. So simple. So innocent. Yet they carried so much weight.
You typed back quickly, your fingers shaking slightly.
Yeah. Why? x
It wasn’t long before her response came in.
can i come over? x
It was always like this. These late-night texts, her asking to come over, to slip back into your life for a few hours before disappearing again. And you always said yes. No matter how many times you told yourself you wouldn’t. No matter how many times you swore this time would be different.
Sure, doors unlocked x
You sat there for a moment, staring at the words on the screen, regretting them as soon as you sent them. But it was too late. You couldn’t take them back now.
Fifteen minutes later, Leah was at your door.
She walked in like she always did—confident, with an easy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked tired. Exhausted, even. You knew the demands of her career were catching up to her, that she had been under more pressure than ever lately. The national team, her club, the media—all of it was taking a toll. You could see it in the way her shoulders slumped slightly, in the faint shadows under her eyes.
But she didn’t say anything about it. She never did. Instead, she just collapsed onto your couch, exhaling deeply.
“Rough day?” you asked softly, sitting down beside her but keeping a bit of space between you. You had learned to do that, to create some distance even when she was right there next to you.
Leah shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “Just tired. Training’s been brutal lately.”
You nodded, unsure what to say. This was how it always was—small talk that never led anywhere. You were friends, but there was always this wall between you, this unspoken rule that you never crossed into anything deeper.
But tonight, something about it felt heavier than usual. Maybe it was the rain outside, or maybe it was just the weight of everything that had been building between you. The things you hadn’t said. The things you couldn’t say.
Leah glanced over at you, her eyes searching your face for something you weren’t sure you could give. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more tentative.
You forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
It was a lie, of course. But she didn’t press you on it. She never did.
Instead, Leah leaned in, her hand finding your thigh in that familiar way that always made your heart skip. Her touch was soft, but there was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Like she could feel that something was off.
You looked at her, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Is this what you came here for?” you asked, your voice coming out sharper than you intended.
Leah blinked, pulling back slightly, her hand falling from your leg. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, is this what it is for you? Just… this.” You gestured between the two of you, your frustration finally bubbling over. “Is that all I am to you, Leah? A convenience? Something you can come back to when it’s easy for you?”
Her eyes widened slightly, taken aback by your words. “Where’s this coming from?”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair, your chest tightening as the words you had been holding in for so long finally began to spill out. “It’s been two years, Leah. Two years of this—of you showing up when you feel like it, of you acting like we’re just friends, but then turning around and…” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely, unable to find the right words.
Leah stared at you, her expression unreadable. “I didn’t know you felt like this.”
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Of course you didn’t. I’ve been too busy pretending everything’s fine. But it’s not, Leah. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with being whatever this is.”
Leah looked down, her jaw clenching slightly. “We agreed it would be casual. That’s what we said from the start.”
“I know that!” you snapped, your frustration finally breaking through. “I know we said it would be casual. But it’s not casual for me anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”
The room fell into a tense silence, the sound of rain hitting the windows the only thing breaking it. Leah didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared at the floor, her expression distant.
Finally, she spoke, her voice low. “I didn’t ask for this to be more.”
Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the bluntness of them slicing through you. You felt your throat tighten as you tried to keep your emotions in check, but it was too late. Everything was spilling out now, all the hurt and frustration you had been bottling up for months.
“I know you didn’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But it *is* more for me. I can’t help that. And I can’t keep doing this if you don’t feel the same way.”
Leah’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in them—regret, maybe. Or sadness. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same guarded look she always wore when things got too close, too real.
“I’m not good at this,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how to do relationships. Football… it’s everything to me. I don’t have room for anything else.”
Your chest ached at her words, even though you had known them to be true all along. “I’m not asking you to choose between me and football, Leah. I would never ask that. I just want to know where I stand. I want to know if I mean anything to you beyond being someone you can sleep with when it’s convenient.”
Leah exhaled sharply, running a hand over her face. “You mean something to me. Of course you do.”
“Then why don’t you show it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper now. “Why do I feel like I’m the only one who cares? Like I’m always waiting for you to decide when I matter?”
She didn’t answer, and that silence said more than any words ever could.
You stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself as you tried to steady your breathing. “I can’t do this anymore, Leah. I can’t keep being your… your in-between. If this is all you can give, then I need to walk away.”
Leah looked up at you, and for the first time, you saw real panic in her eyes. She stood up, taking a step toward you. “Wait. Please.”
You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over as you stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something more, that she might finally open up, finally give you what you had been aching for all this time. But then she stopped, her expression hardening, and you knew. She wasn’t going to give you anything more. She couldn’t.
The door clicked softly behind you as you walked out into the rain, your heart breaking with each step. You had spent two years convincing yourself that you were okay with the way things were, that you didn’t need more than what Leah was willing to give.
But now, soaked and alone, you knew the truth.
You had always wanted more. And Leah was never going to give it to you.
---
Days passed. Then weeks.
You tried to move on. You threw yourself into work, into spending time with friends, anything to keep your mind off of Leah. But she was always there, in the back of your mind, haunting you like a ghost.
You hadn’t heard from her since that night. Part of you had expected her to reach out, to try and fix things, but deep down, you knew better. Leah wasn’t the kind of person who fought for things like this. She didn’t know how.
Still, the silence hurt more than you thought it would.
One night, weeks later, as you were sitting alone in your apartment again, your phone buzzed on the table. You ignored it at first, assuming it was one of your friends checking in, but when it buzzed again, you glanced at the screen.
Leah: Are you home?
Your heart clenched at the sight of her name. You stared at the message for a long time, torn between replying and throwing your phone across the room.
But before you could stop yourself, you typed back.
yeah. why.
There was a long pause, and for a moment, you wondered if she would respond at all. But then your phone buzzed again.
Leah: Can I come over?
You stared at the screen, your mind racing. You knew you should say no. You knew that letting her back in would only lead to more heartache. But it was Leah. And despite everything, despite all the hurt, you still cared. Too much, probably.
Sure..?
It didn’t take long for her to show up. When she walked in, she looked just as exhausted as the last time you had seen her, but there was something different in her eyes this time. Something softer. Vulnerable, almost.
You stood awkwardly in the living room, not sure what to say, not sure why she was here. Leah seemed just as uncertain, her hands shoved in her pockets as she looked at you.
“I missed you,” she said quietly, her voice raw.
Your heart clenched at her words, but you didn’t let yourself get too hopeful. “You missed me, or you missed the convenience?”
Leah flinched slightly at your words, but she didn’t look away. “I missed you,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Leah, I can’t keep doing this. You know that.”
“I know,” she said, taking a hesitant step toward you. “I know I’ve been shit. I know I haven’t given you what you deserve. But I…” She trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “I’m scared.”
You frowned, confused. “Scared of what?”
“Of losing you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of letting you in too much and screwing everything up. I’m scared that if I let myself care, I’ll get distracted, and I can’t afford that.”
You stared at her, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her voice. You had never heard her talk like this before, never seen her let her walls down like this.
“I’m not asking you to give up your career, Leah,” you said softly. “I’m not asking you to make me your whole world. I just want to know that I matter to you. That I’m not just something you come back to when it’s convenient.”
“You matter,” she said quickly, stepping closer now. “You matter more than you know. I just didn’t realize how much until you walked away.”
You felt tears prick at your eyes, but you blinked them back, not wanting to break down in front of her. “Then why didn’t you fight for this sooner?”
Leah took another step toward you, reaching out to gently take your hand. “Because I’m an idiot,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you.”
You looked down at her hand in yours, your chest tight with a mixture of emotions. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered.
Leah gently tugged you closer, her other hand cupping your cheek as she looked into your eyes. “Let me try. Please. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I want to try. For you.”
You closed your eyes, leaning into her touch, letting yourself feel the warmth of her skin against yours. It wasn’t a perfect resolution. It wasn’t everything you had been hoping for. But it was something.
And maybe, for now, that was enough.
---
The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. But as Leah pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew that this was a start. A messy, complicated start—but a start nonetheless.
And maybe that was all you needed. For now.
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angel1010xx · 2 days
Text
beg for me
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Pairing: Zoro x Reader (NSFW)
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“Goddammit woman, why didn’t you fucking listen to me?!” 
Zoro was livid. Here was a man, towering in front of you, menacing, broad, ominously powerful—a man that has cut mountains in half—a man that just so happened to be unbelievably pissed off at you. 
“Don’t even try raising your voice at me!” You retorted back. “We would have lost everything if I didn’t make that move! Everything that the whole crew has been trying to protect would have been for nothing, Zoro! Nothing!”
“I don’t give a flying fuck,” Zoro spat, “about some cuckoo artifact that some podunk fucking scientist made.” He sneered, slowly taking steps towards you as if he were a beast waiting to pounce on its prey. 
Zoro had practically ripped your cabin door off of its hinges as soon as the Thousand Sunny had set sail again. This was only a few moments ago. Robin uncovered an artifact on the island the crew had stopped at, which just so happened to be one that was really, dreadfully needed. However, there were some… complications while leaving the island, to put it lightly. There was one particular enemy who tried to stop the crew. This nuisance had eaten a devil fruit that granted him the ability to neutralize one’s ability to fight, like a switch being flipped to the off position. He could only affect so many people at one time, and you were one of the unlucky ones to basically become a citizen in the battlefield. 
That didn’t make you take a tactical retreat, much to the chagrin of a certain swordsman. “Then what do you give a fuck about, Zoro?”
“You want to know what I give a fuck about?” Zoro breathed out in a mocking tone of voice, now standing chest to chest with you. His eyes burned into your own. “Right now, it’s teaching you a fucking lesson.” 
Zoro pushed you against the wall, and you let out a small yelp in surprise. He was still dirty from the battle, sweaty, scraped up… but you didn’t have time to think about that, because he crashed his lips onto yours with a feverish need. You yelped again, and all Zoro did was bite your bottom lip.
You felt your brain short-circuit. What was going on? 
The swordsman reached down to put his hands on the back of your thighs, and he hoisted you up in the air in one swift motion. Instinctively, you wrapped both your arms and legs around him, your back still against the wall. “Zoro, what are you—?” 
The swordman’s lips descended on your neck, and he just kept sucking and biting you. He groaned into your neck, and the combination of the low pitch of his voice, the vibration, and the warmth of his breath and mouth were all too much for you. Zoro bit your collarbone, and you gasped. He pulled away to kiss you again. “Shut up.” 
Zoro pulled away from the wall, and took a few calculated steps backwards so he could throw you on your bed. You gazed up at him, completely flushed, but you felt an ache between your thighs. He wasted no time to straddle you, trapping your legs between his, and he grabbed your wrists. “You are going to listen to me right now.” 
He growled in such a desperate way while he tied his ever-so-handy signature bandana around your wrists, and stared down at you. You were underneath him, writhing around, rubbing your thighs together for some friction and relief. You looked dirty, you looked needy, and you looked ravageable. 
Zoro got off of on top of you, and stood by the edge of the bed. He grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him, and you gasped as he ripped through any fabric barrier between you and the air. What’s gotten into him?
He spat on your cunt, then teasingly rubbed one finger in-between your folds. You moaned and arched your back, finding it hard to handle his slow pace. He didn’t let up, though; he kept rubbing his thumb in lazy circles over your entrance, then moving up to rub lazy circles on your clit, and then back down. “Fuck, Zoro, why are you teasing me…?”
“Because you don’t know how to listen.” He watched with sadistic glee as you bucked your hips against his thumb, desperate for more stimulation. “I need you to know who’s in control.” Zoro kept staring a hole into your soul, pride swelling up in his chest as he gazed down at your swollen lips and all the marks he left on your neck. So fucking pretty.
“You want more?” He asked, barely sliding the tip of his middle finger in and out of you. “Tell me you want more. I’m not giving you anything until you beg.”
You bit your lip, not wanting to give in, but your sopping cunt was aching. You shook your head at Zoro. “No…”
He leaned over you, lips hovering just above yours, and growled at you while pulling hard on one of your nipples. “Beg.”
You cried out, grinding your hips against Zoro’s, whimpering as he continued to tug and squeeze your nipples. He grunted, grinding back against you, shuddering from the adrenaline. “Tell me what you want, and fucking beg me for it.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Zoro, I need you inside me…. Please. I—please, Zoro—”
The swordsman took a second to tear his own clothes off of him. God, he was beautiful. Your eyes trailed down further and further… and God, how was he going to fit?!
Zoro smacked his dick against your cunt a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. “Say ‘please’ for me, one more time.”
“…Please.”
He pushed himself inside you in one hard thrust, giving you no time to adjust. An embarrassing squeal came out of your mouth. He was long, and he was girthy, and it felt like you were being split into two. His hand reached up to hold your tied-up ones, and he drilled into you like a man starving for water.
Sloppy, messy, wet, and god it felt so good.
Moans kept pouring out of your mouth as Zoro’s dick kissed your cervix with each thrust. He leaned his upper body onto yours, his voice dark with his own moans and grunts as he again began kissing and marking your neck. “Y’know what I give a fuck about?” He panted. “My woman. Alive.” 
“Zoro, I’m sorry—” 
Zoro changed his pace, his thrusts becoming slower and harder. Your body rocked with each one, and he put his finger in your mouth. “Ah ah ah. Show me you’re sorry. Beg for me. Beg me to make you cum on my dick.”
Your face was burning, you were swimming in pleasure, and your mind was a haze. You could smell sweat and a lingering trace of cologne, you could smell your own wetness, and all you could focus on was the growing, warm pit in your abdomen. His dick was rubbing just the right spot, but your body needed just a little bit more attention there, just a little bit more tension so you could snap—
“Fuck, please, Zoro. Please, I need you to make me cum. I need to cum on you, I’m so close, I—”
Zoro leaned back and put your ankles over his shoulders, and he began ravaging you like the beast he had been acting like earlier. It was all you could do to take it,
it was overwhelming, but his dick was curving right into that perfect spot, over, and over, and over, and over…
You cried out again, feeling the tension finally snap, and you saw white as your orgasm flooded every sense in you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” You heard Zoro moan, and he snapped his hips into yours a few more erratic times before you felt him twitch, and then you felt the strangest sensation of being full.
He stayed inside you while the two of you fought to catch a breath.
The swordsman grunted, slowly pulling out. You could feel cum spilling out of you. He laid next to you, and untied your wrists. “I can’t… I can’t protect you when you run into the fight vulnerable like that. You were supposed to go where it was safe.”
You sighed, turning onto your side to face him, and traced your finger over the scar on his chest. “’M sorry, Zoro. I was trying to do the right thing.”
“I know,” he murmured, placing his hand over yours. 
He really couldn’t stay mad at you. 
238 notes · View notes
angellayercake · 3 days
Text
Banchetto: Formaggi e Frutta
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Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW
AO3 | Insalata | Masterpost
Selecting the pairings for cheese can be deceptively complicated. Anyone can put some cheese on a tray and call it done but for it to be truly good some serious thought needs to be done. Texture, flavour, sweet vs savoury, creamy vs crunchy, all build up to a well rounded dish. The first bite of a juicy grape paired with tang of a strong cheddar, or the sweet bitterness of cranberry with the mellow creaminess of a brie. Every element has to work together to create a bigger experience. If you make these choices with care then you will have a show stopping course and all you had to do was some slicing.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
You had been lingering in his office. He was perched on the edge of his desk with his arms locked around you, preventing you from leaving and ending your time together for the day. The two of you had been in this position for at least half an hour, every time you tried to extricate yourself he would pull you in for one last kiss which became two, then three, then he would remember another important matter you just had to discuss right now. So far you had covered Cabaret the musical, why linen was the superior summer material, his favourite type of pen to do signings and the lies he used to tell people about ghoul mating habits. And now you were discussing your favourite cheeses.
‘I honestly have to say I don’t think I have tried a cheese I didn't like,’ you admit after listening to him explain why Italian cheeses were by far the best in the world. He wrinkles his nose at you, shaking his head in disgust. As inconsequential as these topics were, you enjoyed hearing his typically outlandish opinions and his passionate defence of them. You may have even been guilty of disagreeing with him deliberately from time to time just to enjoy his attempts to convince you of his point of view. 
‘Even the stinky ones?’ He looks like even just thinking of them is a displeasure he can’t abide, the charmingly emphasised wrinkles above the bridge of his nose almost distracting you from his argument. ‘The French, thinking they can get away with crimes against dairy just because of a few good ones,’ he grumbles, pulling a laugh from you. 
‘I think the English are guilty of that too, I am afraid,’ you remind him. ‘Have you ever tried Stinking Bishop?’
‘Ugh!! Never and I never will,’ he shakes his head again refusing to even entertain the thought. ‘But, cara mia, that is why everything Italian is far superior,’ he says, lifting his eyebrows suggestively and you suspect he isn’t just talking about cheese any more.
‘With what I have learned in the last few months I can’t say I disagree,’ you reply against his lips as he is already reeling you in for another kiss. You don’t let him distract you for too much longer though this time. ‘I don’t think you should judge a cheese until you try it with accompaniments though. The right flavours paired with the right cheese can make all the difference.’ 
‘I suppose there is some truth to what you say, mia cuocoina,’ he trails off for a moment looking like he is waging a battle internally before he takes a deep breath and continues. ‘Speaking of cheese, did you know there is a farmers market in town this weekend? I have heard they have very many types of cheese on sale there.’
‘I had heard, yes. It happens every month.’ You think back fondly to those trips out of the Abbey with Mona. ‘We used to take it in turns to go and pick up some obscure ingredients as a challenge for the others. I haven’t had a chance to go for a while.’
‘Would you like to go to this one? With me?’ His hesitancy makes your heart melt. How this man could ever think you wouldn’t want to go with him you have no idea? As if you don’t willingly spend almost every moment of your free time with him.
‘Are you asking me on a date, Terzo?’ You tease, hoping to ease his worry a little. The two of you may have done everything backwards but you can’t help the little thrill you get from the idea of him taking you on a proper date. He had been watching you nervously as he waited for your response but at your gentle teasing the corner of his lips pulled up in a smile even as a light blush crawled across his cheeks. 
‘Si, I am,’ he says simply, lifting his head and looking you directly in the eyes, hypnotising you for a moment in his gaze.
‘I would love to go with you,’ you reply as soon as you snap out of it, not wanting to leave him hanging any longer. His wide smile always takes your breath away and you stand there for far too long, just grinning at each other before you realise you do really need to leave. You give him one last kiss before making your way back to your room, mind full of your upcoming date. 
The morning arrives and you are up early having explained to Terzo that the earlier you get there the better. It would be less busy, you got the best pick of the produce and all the tasters won’t have sat out for so long. Taking your advice he had agreed to leave the Abbey around nine, and also on your advice you both were skipping breakfast, not wanting to fill yourselves up before you get there. But his morning coffee is non-negotiable… 
After getting ready you let yourself into his rooms and start the coffee machine. You can hear him moving about already so you don’t worry about getting him up, but instead have time to fuss about… well, everything. You smooth your hands over your outfit as you wait letting your nerves get the better of you for a second. It’s not to say you didn’t usually make an effort with your appearance, you did, but your clothes and hair had to be practical when cooking even if just for him. This was the first time you had had the opportunity to dress up and for some reason it had your stomach in knots. 
You wore your hair down today, letting the dark waves cascade down your back where they were usually secured in a bun and your make up was light as you had considered the time of day - just a subtle base and some eyeliner, mascara and lipstick to add a little emphasis to your features. The dress you picked was one you had never worn before. It was black, as was the majority of your wardrobe, but the light cotton fell softly over your figure, the hem ending at your mid-calf. It was buttoned up from your chest to your knees, giving a glimpse of leg and decolletage you hoped would capture his attention without flaunting too much. The puff sleeves and broderie anglaise finish the look and make it, in your opinion, the perfect dress for a date at the farmers market.
Just as you finish the coffee you hear him come to the door. You turn around a cup in each hand to catch him frozen in the doorway. With one hand he is clinging to the door frame and then other is laid dramatically over his heart. He is looking at you as if he has never seen you before. He looks incredible himself, his hair slicked back as you had not seen it for a long time and his face surprisingly clear of his paints, given you were leaving the Abbey. He is wearing an off-white revere collar shirt, habitually unbuttoned half way down his chest over tailored linen trousers in a soft dove grey with black woven loafers. He has a matching linen blazer over his arm, and he looks like he has just stepped out of the pages of a Milanese fashion magazine.
‘Good morning, Terzo,’ you greet as you go to hand him his coffee but he ignores it in favour of pulling you in for a kiss, letting go of the door frame and instead wrapping his arm around your waist and letting his hand glide down your body over the smooth fabric. You hum into his mouth enjoying his attentions but slightly worried about spilling coffee on you both as you hold them over his shoulders. ‘I could get used to this sort of greeting,’ you say when he lets you pull away, still seemingly at a loss for words. 
‘Grazie,’ he whispers, finally taking his coffee and savouring the first sip before continuing, letting his eyes roam all over you. ‘You are, well… beautiful doesn’t even cover it, I think. Sei una visione di bellezza, come non ne ho mai viste.’ He does this every now and then, slipping into his native tongue when he can’t seem to find the words to express himself in English. You don’t understand what he is saying but the sentiment is clear, so you let the melodic words wash over you and let your smile widen in response. 
‘You are looking very handsome today too.’ You cup his cheek with your now free hand and let him nuzzle into your palm. ‘I have been looking forward to this all week.’ 
‘Me too, cara mia.’ He places his hand over yours before taking it in his. ‘Are you ready to go?’
‘I’ve got my coffee, I've got you, I don't think I need anything else. And if we leave now everyone will still be at breakfast so we shouldn’t be bothered.’ With a nod and a smile he leads you from the kitchen through his rooms and out to the corridor, pausing only to lock the door behind you. You realise then that this is probably going to be the first time he has left the Abbey since returning from the last tour and what a big step this must be for him, as well as the two of you. You walk through the corridors quickly, leaving a plausible distance between you in case you were seen by anyone but before you reach the main entrance he leads you down an old corridor that, as far as you knew, only led to an older unused wing of the Abbey. 
‘Where are we going?’ You ask him as you follow him along the twists and turns of the dusty corridor but he just shushes you and continues as though he is looking for something. To your surprise he ignores the few doors you pass coming to a stop at an old painting covered in dust, which depicts what you can only assume is a life-sized satanic knight posing in his armour in the landscape of hell. Without any further explanation he feels around the edge of the frame until you hear a click and the painting swings forward revealing a secret set of stairs leading down to a door where you can see slivers of daylight seeping in where it has warped in its frame. Taking your hand he helps you down the steps before having to give the door a shove once, then twice before it opens and you find yourselves at the side of the main Abbey just outside the tall garden wall.  
‘This is the way we used to go when we didn’t want anyone to see us leaving,’ he says, shooting you a mischievous grin. ‘When we were boys especially and the older sisters wouldn’t give us the time of day we would sneak into town…’ He trails off realising the story he was about to tell you and his expression turns a little sheepish. ‘Well, you know how teenage boys can be.’ You shake your head at him good naturedly but take his offered hand so he can lead you down what is clearly a well trodden path through the public gardens to a side gate that opens on the main road into town.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
The first and arguably most important consideration when preparing a dish like this is making everything bitesize. Slice things too small and the flavours will not balance well, slice things too big and you will end up with all sorts of mess, but getting it just right? A slice of cheese, a piece of fruit, a spoonful of chutney, a sliver of meat could all fit on a cracker and be eaten in one perfect bite.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
It is a short pleasant walk especially on a morning like this. The Abbey is about half a mile from the town and despite the occasional comment or funny look, the residents seem to have accepted sharing the area with a satanic church a long time ago. The residents of the Abbey brought a lot of business to the local shops and trades people, doing their best to contribute to the community they were fringe members of which served to strengthen the tolerance of their presence. You yourself had good relationships with the local food stores, avoiding spending your budget at the supermarket as much as you could, so you had never experienced anything but a sideways glance from some of the more conservative members of the community. 
After about fifteen minutes you reach the town square which is already bustling with life even at this early hour of the weekend. Rows and rows of stalls fill the usually open space and there are already plenty of shoppers drifting from stall to stall. Having finished your coffees, you take his and put them in the nearest bin before pausing so you can come up with a plan of action.
‘When I come with Mona we try to be strategic,’ you explain as you try and suss out what the closest stalls are selling.
‘Oh, and why is this? To get the best produce? The best deals?’ He asks inquisitively, tilting his head as he thinks. You wish you could say those were the reasons but it was much less professional.
‘Nope. It is so we don’t get too full before we have eaten everything we want.’ He laughs loudly, clearly surprised at your reasoning but you try your best to keep your face straight. ‘It is important you know!’ you insist as his laughter calms.
‘You have been training me up for this moment, no?’ he says, patting his belly and winking at you knowingly.
‘Bigger appetites than yours have been defeated by the farmer’s market tasters, I will have you know,’ you respond, doing your best not to get distracted by his insinuation.
‘Psh, I could eat one of everything and still have room for whatever delicious dish you have planned for tonight.’ He winds his arm around your waist pulling you against his side as you walk together to the first stall. You can’t keep up your serious façade, his confidence and manhandling bringing a flush to your cheeks, at least until you realise what he said.
‘Need I remind you it is Saturday and my day off.’ You prod him in the side in retaliation and he jumps slightly when you catch his ticklish spot. He grabs your finger before you can poke him again, a little tug of war ensuing before he lets you free with a stern look.
‘Well I can cook for you then,’ he says, snapping his fingers as the idea comes to him. You dip your head for a moment, your chest feeling full at his insistence you spend even more of today together. Until the reality of him cooking anything for you sinks in. You had long suspected that he lacked even the most basic cooking skills, which was confirmed the only time you ever let him try to help you.
‘And what exactly are you going to cook for me?’ You ask as you reach the first stall filled with assorted jars of conserves and jams.
‘I will cook…’ He pauses, looking around at the closet stalls. ‘Cheese!’ he exclaims loudly, drawing some looks and a chuckle from the cheesemonger a couple of stalls over. He clears his throat, quieting his voice. ‘Cheese, cara mia, like we talked about the other night. Cheese and crackers and fruit and chutney. Like this!’ He picks up a jar of spiced cranberry chutney from the stall.
‘That will be 55 krona please, sir,’ the lady behind the stall tells him. He hands the jar to you and fishes his wallet out of his pocket, handing her cash and insisting she keep the change. 
‘That’s not exactly cooking is it,’ you scoff, putting the jar in one of the many tote bags you had thought to bring along. ‘But that being said, I would be happy to join you this evening.’ 
‘Maybe not but I can assure you I will put a lot more effort into dessert,’ he replies with a smirk as he pulls you towards the cheesemonger. ‘Now, Signior, I need a selection of your best cheese for mia cuocoina, and a little advice.’ 
He leads the way around the market, insisting on tasting this and that and asking questions of the vendors about flavour pairings and serving suggestions until your tote bags are beginning to weigh you both down. You find a bench at the edge of the square and flop down onto it taking the weight off your aching shoulders. He follows after you, sliding the bags to one side so he can sit right beside you. 
‘Try this, cara mia,’ he holds a small pastry to your lips, one he has already tried if the tell tale crumbs around his lips were anything to go buy. You almost refuse, your tactical plan having flown out the window long ago at his insistence you taste test almost everything. He looks at you beseechingly though and you cave, opening your mouth and allowing him to feed it to you. Before he can pull away though you close your lips around his fingers, getting your own back the only way you can right now. He freezes, his pupils blown wide as he watches you suck the tips of his fingers. 
‘Fancy seeing you here.’ A voice you recognise breaks through your lustful haze. You almost choke between the pastry and Terzo whipping his fingers from your mouth as if they were burning. You swallow your mouthful without even registering if it was nice or not as you turn to see Lilly and Rich stood before you. You jump up quickly, offering them each a hug, then trying to stand between them and Terzo, wracking your brain to explain why you were out in public with Papa's fingers in your mouth. 
‘Hi guys, what a lovely surprise. You should really try the pastries from over there, they are very good…’ You can feel your face burning completely at a loss on how to explain away what they must have seen.
‘Will Papa hand feed them to us as well?’ Rich asks sardonically, looking at you with your eyebrows raised as if waiting for an answer. At least until Lilly elbows him sharply in the ribs. 
‘It’s so nice to see you and to see you too, Papa. Hello!’ She says leaning around you to offer Terzo a wave. He stands dusting crumbs from his face and his shirt and carefully keeping some space between you as he shifts to see them both. 
‘Hello, Sister…’ He glances at you and you realise he has never met them before and some introductions are in order.
‘Lilly, Ter… Papa, this is Lilly and Rich. We work together in the kitchens.’ Lilly smiles at him offering another wave which he returns but Rich still doesn’t look impressed, clearly wanting to confront you both on what he saw.
‘Ah, si. Hello, Sister Lilly and Brother Rich. And I can assure you those pastries are delicious whether fed from my own hands or not.’ He switches his Papa persona on, and it’s a little jarring after all this time. ‘Sorella here, I have tired her out having her carry all these bags of things I wanted. I thought I better not tire her arms any further.’ 
‘Right,’ Rich replies slightly at a loss for words. You don’t think his story has helped the situation at all but though he looks a little awkward and uncomfortable, it doesn’t seem like Terzo really minds the two of you getting caught, so you take a deep breath and relax.
‘All this shopping and eating… I could do with another coffee, I think. Si…’ He nods to himself, already heading towards the coffee stall. ‘Anyone else?’ He asks almost as an afterthought and you all nod. ‘Four coffees then, ok.’ The three of you watch him go but as soon as he is out of earshot, they both turn to you.
‘What the hell was that?’ Rich asks in an angry whisper. ‘I thought you were just doing your job and he was far too stressed about getting fired to try it on? Not that it looked like he had to try that hard…’ He had always been protective of the three of you, but you couldn’t help feeling defensive when he had no idea what had been growing between you.
‘Oh leave her be, they both looked happy while they were doing it. What does it matter?’ You smile at Lilly appreciatively, thankful for her understanding.
‘Guys, please just listen.’ You knew you had to explain something. ‘We, well, look, we just-’ You can’t even find the words to start. It’s not like with Mona where you can tell her everything and she just understands, not that you have time for that anyway. You glance over to the stall and see him standing in line, carefully studying the menu and certainly not looking back over every few seconds. ‘I… I can’t really explain what we are; not at the moment,’ you sigh. ‘But Lilly is right, we are happy, everything is fine.’ 
‘You do look happy, and he looks better too.’ Lilly says reassuringly and you breathe a sigh of relief. 
‘Yeah, no one can accuse you of slacking on feeding him.’ Both you and Lilly turn to glare at him.
‘Don’t be a dick, Rich!’ she admonishes him, treating him to another elbow to the ribs.
‘What?’ He says defensively rubbing his side. ‘He is looking a lot more well-fed than he ever did before.’ It isn’t an apology but it is probably as close as you will get from Rich. 
‘Could you guys just keep this between us, please?’ You feel like you are begging, but the last thing you want is people finding out about the two of you through gossip. You hadn’t really thought about it or discussed it but you were sure that Terzo would like to tell his brothers himself when the time was right.
‘Keep what? There’s nothing to tell anyway, right Rich?’ She threatens him with her elbow one last time but relents when he agrees with a flinch.  
‘Right, nothing to tell.’ The three of you look at him just as he looks away sharply and he gets handed the tray of coffees. You feel a little relief but the silence is awkward as you wait for him to make his way back over. 
‘Caffè for everyone!’ He announces on his return and you each take a cup.
‘Thank you Papa, that was very kind,’ Lilly thanked him genuinely. ‘But we better get going. We have a list. Mona has really taken to bossing us around since you've been gone.’ You know she is joking, but it still sends a pang through you. As happy as you are in your current position, you do miss them. ‘Anyway, it was lovely to see you! Bye!’ She grabs Rich by the elbow and drags him away with only one last glare over his shoulder. 
‘Terzo, I’m sorry,’ You say slumping back onto the bench.  
‘They didn’t know about us?’ He asks cautiously. He sits beside you but leaves enough space to be considered decent and keeps his hands to himself. You can’t decide if you are disappointed or not. 
‘No, they didn’t.’ You shoot him a sideways glance and he is looking down at his coffee, his expression unreadable. 
‘So, you haven’t spoken to anyone about…?’ He trails off, neither of you at a point of being able to define what is going on between you. ‘Even before, you didn’t seek out your friends?’
‘Well I did… Mona, but I trust her. She would never say anything.’ He holds up a hand to halt you and you feel a bubble of panic starting to grow in your chest.
‘That’s not what I meant, cara mia.’ He finally looks at you now and the bubble dissolves. His eyes are warm, full of care. ‘I am glad you spoke to your friend about this, just as I am glad of her discretion. I would hate to think about you being so upset and also alone.’
‘You were dealing with it all alone.’ His hand rests on the bench between you and you place yours over the top. It feels wrong not to be touching at all during such a conversation. 
‘Ah, I am used to it,’ he says, brushing you off. ‘I am used to it.’ He turns his hand under yours loosely lacing your fingers together. ‘And anyway, I am not alone anymore am I?’ It’s a slow smile that grows across his face, like he is only just realising it now. 
‘No you aren’t,’ you confirm, squeezing his hand and returning his smile. If you had your way he would never be alone again. 
‘May I ask,’ he pauses like he isn’t sure he wants to ask what he is about to say. ‘Why you didn’t tell your other friends?’ But this is something you can easily offer him an answer to.
‘Well it’s just… Lilly is young, she is only twenty. It feels a little odd talking to her about relationships when she feels like a little sister, and Rich? Well, he is the biggest gossip in the whole kitchen. It’s not that I don’t trust him, but he just gets a little carried away sometimes.’ You can’t help your fond smile. ‘And he is pretty protective of us, even if he can be a little bit of a dick about it.’
‘I see, I see.’ He seems happy enough accepting your reasons. ‘Are you ok?’ He inches a little closer now, already over keeping a sensible distance. 
‘Yeah, I am.’ You decide even as you are saying it. The confrontation with your friends could have gone better, but it could have gone a lot worse. And it’s better you get caught by your friends then any other random inhabitant of the Abbey. In fact, you should have foreseen this happening, going out together so close to home. You wonder if he feels the same though. ‘Are you?’
‘Si, I think it is time to go home though,’ he says and you nod in agreement. You think you have both had enough excitement for today. ‘I called for a car while I was waiting for the coffee,’ he admits a little sheepishly. 
‘Oh, thank Satan.’ Your relief is palpable, both your full stomach and your sore shoulders thankful. ‘I thought we were going to have to carry all of this back.’ 
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Presentation is the second most important consideration and for that you need a suitable foundation. Depending on the number of people you are catering for you need a vessel large enough to hold enough food. The material is less important, dictated by aesthetic preference, whether you prefer wood, glass, slate or porcelain. Consider whether you need vessels for particular ingredients, additional cutlery to serve. By planning for all eventualities you make sure the meal is a success.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
With a plea from you and an order from Terzo a ghoul assists in carrying the bags back to his rooms, leaving them on the kitchen table before departing to wherever it is ghouls go when off duty. You begin to unpack, starting to sort out the haul to put in the appropriate storage but he comes behind you taking your wrists in his hands and steers you back out of the kitchen. 
‘Mia cuocoina please,’ he murmurs against the back of my head. ‘I need peace for the art I am about to create.’ You try to suppress your laugh but it comes out an inelegant snort.
‘I can help,’ you reply, twisting in his arms to look at him. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do.’ 
‘No,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘It is my turn to make food for you!’ He continues shepherding you backwards towards his office. ‘Go have a nap, visit friends, whatever.’ he drops a kiss on your lips before spinning you back around. 
‘You may come back in two hours,’ he swats at your ass as he opens the door and lets you out into the hallway. 
You pause for a moment wondering where you even wanted to go. Going back to your rooms wasn’t very appealing, there were no distractions there and you knew the time would crawl by. The kitchens were out of the question right now if you didn't want to be subjected to the interrogation you were spared in town, something you were keen to avoid as long as possible. The gardens were an option except you could still feel the ache in your arms from carrying the bags around the market and you know for certain if Primo catches you in the garden there was no chance you would be leaving unencumbered by whatever vegetables he could give you. 
Your wandering takes you past the upper clergy offices, mostly dark and unused of a Saturday afternoon but you spot movement behind one of the doors and you are not surprised when you realise whose it is. There is only one person you know that would willingly work on a Saturday and fortunately that was a person you had been meaning to speak to. Since you and Terzo had joined his brothers for lunch in fact. You had no sweet treats prepared for him today but you were sure he could do with a break. He could always do with a break. 
Approaching the closed door you knock softly and wait for him to answer and the slightly frantic scuffling you can hear lets you know you won’t have to wait long. But a few moments pass before he answers the door. His exhaustion is plain on his face, sadly not much different than any of the other times you have seen him lately. 
‘Sorella,’ he says with a tired smile when he registers it is you at his door. ‘How can I help you today?’
‘I found myself at a loose end and saw you were working!’ You explain as he holds the door open for you and gestures to the seat before his desk. ‘And why are you working on a Saturday?’
‘There is so much to do and so little time,’ he says, flopping back into his chair with a heavy sigh. ‘I was not busy today anyway so I thought why waste time when there is so much to catch up on.’ The clergy’s decision to remove Terzo from his position has caused more problems than you had first thought. You can’t help thinking how odd it is that no new Papa had been appointed after all these months when there was clearly a need but you set that aside for now.
‘Even you need a break Cardinal.’ You struggle to keep the worry from your voice.
‘Well you are here, let's have a break now.’ His smiles grows more genuine as he speaks. ‘I wished to speak with you anyway.’ 
‘Yes me too,’ you agree. It makes it easier now that he has brought it up himself. ‘I have been meaning to come and see you since the lunch but well, you know Papa, he was keeping me busy. Even on my day off he had me going into town with him to the farmers market.’ You are starting to worry your blush is becoming permanent and you hope your smile isn’t as sappy as it feels. If you plan to continue keeping your relationship quiet you really need to get better at schooling your reactions. 
‘Si, I imagine Papa has lots to keep you busy.’ he agrees laughing but his face turns serious. ‘He is.. Well he is treating you well Sorella?’ He pauses, seeming to choose his words carefully, his fingers coming up to play with his moustache nervously. ‘Like a gentleman? When things are hard I think sometimes he can forget he is a good man.’ You sense that Copia may be talking from personal experience and having seen that side of Terzo yourself you are keen to reassure him.
‘I think I understand what you mean, Cardinal, he …’ You pause thinking over your wording just as carefully. ‘When I first began working for him he was different, while everything was fresh but he, we, found a compromise. He has apologised for some of his more thoughtless actions.’ Copia raises his eyebrows and you panic momentarily. ‘Oh nothing so bad and really, I had a lot of sympathy for his situation. I wasn’t expecting him to be at his best.’ 
‘It was regrettable what happened.’ He takes off his beretta and runs his hands through his hair. ‘It .. well it was unexpected for all of us, I think but it is good to see him doing better.’ He does look genuinely relieved even though the situation has clearly impacted him. ‘All this food seems to be doing the trick eh?’
‘The food probably has helped, yes,’ you laugh, and the rest you thought, keeping that to yourself. ‘But I think it is really just time, Cardinal.’ He would have improved with or without you over time but you do like to think you have helped him move on a little faster then he may have done otherwise. 
‘Now, can we discuss those notes you brought me to translate?’ His direct questions bring you straight back down from your romantic imaginings.
‘I was waiting for you to bring them up.’ You know you owe him something of an explanation  but you are not above waiting to see what he has worked out for himself.  
‘They, well I suppose I don’t know enough to say really,’ he begins confidently before tailing off. ‘But they didn’t read like professional recipes.’
‘That's because they weren’t but Cardinal, it’s not my place to say more, not that I even really know anymore.’ In this at least you can be honest. You could probably make a good guess as to who wrote out the recipes but you aren’t willing to voice that now. ‘He gave me some recipes and he never said where they came from or why that was all he wanted and I didn’t feel it was my place to ask. There were things said at lunch that might have given me some clues but even so.’ 
‘Si, before. I noticed that too.’ He takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘It has not been long since I was considered an outsider to them and outsiders really know very little by design. If it hadn’t been announced that I was also Nihils son then that would still be the case. But even though I never grew up the way that they did, well Secondo and Terzo anyway, I was here in the Ministry already and I saw what happened.’ 
You say nothing, waiting for him to continue sensing his need to unburden himself. 
‘I was brought up as an orphan you see and while most children in the church are brought up communally, orphan or otherwise, the Emeritus brothers were always separate.’ He switches into lecture mode but you still hang on his every word. There were very few people you mixed with who had been a member of the church for so long. ‘Primo has always been here, his mother was a Sister of great reputation chosen especially to birth an heir but Terzo and Secondo, their mothers must have met Nihil on his travels because they weren’t brought to the church until the were ten, Secondo only a few months before Terzo.’  
‘What happened to their mothers?’ A part of you feels bad even asking but your curiosity wins out. You would not feel comfortable asking Terzo himself this but it feels like the last piece in a puzzle you had been building since you had accepted this position. 
‘They just carried on with their lives I suppose. I know Primo fought with Nihil about it, that their mother’s should have been invited to join them or at least to visit but it was decided. No distractions, they had had ten years of normal life and now they were to prepare for their future as men of the Emeritus line.’ His expression turns wry as he continues. ‘It makes me almost glad that he didn’t acknowledge me until recently. I might have liked having brothers growing up though.’ You pat his arm where it rests on the desk offering what little comfort you can.  
‘Anyway I know Terzo’s mother tried for a while, sending packages of food and presents for him but I don’t know what happened after that. One day they just stopped coming.’ Your heart clenches, for Terzo, for Copia, for all of them. They may be in some of the most powerful positions in the Clergy but it was clear they had all been forced to sacrifice a lot for the privilege. 
‘It sounds like it wasn’t easy for any of you.’ Like any organisation there were machinations going on far above the notice of normal members like yourself, you weren’t naïve enough to think otherwise but you found it jarring learning that somewhere that had felt immediately like home and safety to you had treated these men so poorly.  
‘No I suppose not.’ He rubs his hands over his face, the conversation having turned heavier than either of you expected. After a moment he offers you a tired smile. ‘Now tell me more about this farmers market.’ You while away the rest of the time describing in detail the stalls and the tasters and when you eventually leave you hope you both are feeling a little lighter. 
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
Once you have your vessel and your ingredients prepared then all that is left is the arrangement. There are endless ways to arrange the food enticingly. If you want your dish to be eye-catching and mouth watering you must consider the balance of colour and texture. You can create contrast with light and dark meats or cheeses. You may introduce pops of colours with fresh fruits and berries and mix textures with a soft cheese, a juicy fruit and a crisp cracker. Complimentary flavours could be grouped, the arrangement of your board encouraging certain combinations both traditional and daring. Your final result will be a visually appealing and delicious dish to present.
• • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •
It’s been a long time since you have had to knock before entering his quarters but it feels appropriate now, giving him a chance to finish the final touches to his creation before you enter. You almost reach the point of knocking again, wondering if he hadn’t heard you when he pulls the door open. He was still wearing his shirt and trousers but he had borrowed your apron.
‘This looks good on you,’ you tease, pulling at the strap around his neck, but he only takes your hand and leads you inside.
‘Now cara mia you are in for a treat if I do say so myself.’ When you reach the dining room he stops you, placing his hands over your eyes as he guides you the final distance. ‘No peaking now,’ He says as he positions you at the end of the table. 
‘Ta daaa,’ He uncovers your eyes and as you blink you can’t help but be impressed. The centre of the table is covered in what may be every plate in the kitchen; each one has a different cheese and its suggested accompaniments arranged around it. You had fought valiantly for any cheeses other than Italian but he had refused to budge keen for you to taste all of his favourites. He pours you a glass of wine, a deep red and hands you a glass. 
‘This is Barolo, aged in oak caskets it is the most decadent of Italian wines. The King of wines they call it.’ You take a sip and examine the flavours. It is rich, fruity and floral but with an earthiness that should pair well with your meal this evening. You were by no means a wine expert but your palette was well developed over your career and you can tell an expensive wine when you taste one. 
‘Terzo this is very extravagant,’ you stop when he raises his hand.
‘You deserve the best, cara mia, as does this cheese!.’ He gestures across the table and you survey all the options before you, savouring another sip of the wine. In the middle he has laid out a selection of crackers, water, butter and grain in a variety of different shapes. There was crumbling gorgonzola drizzled with honey to calm the bite of the blue veins and topped with quartered grapes and shelled pistachios. Slices of nutty pecorino sit between folded slices of ham generously filled with halved figs and walnuts. Cubes of provolone mixed with slices of olive oil, cured sopressata and green olives and taleggio and apple slices wrapped in salty prosciutto. Finally a bowl of whipped mascarpone, dark red cherry and balsamic dressing pooling between the peaks and whole cherries and pecans sinking into the soft cheese. 
He pulls out your chair for you, getting you comfortably seated then he goes to take off the apron before joining you at the table waiting as you take in the whole spread. It is strange being on the receiving end of such a gesture. You can’t remember the last time someone had prepared an extravagant meal for you like this, even if he had only sliced and arranged the food, it was clear how much effort he has put in to impress you.
He lets you start helping yourself to the plate closest to you when you struggle to decide where to begin with so many enticing options. The two of you are quiet for a time only pausing to express your pleasure with the flavours to each other. After trying at least two helpings of each cheese you sit back with your wine before your stomach begins protesting after your second round of overindulging for the day.
‘Thank you for doing this Terzo,’ you say as you watch him assemble another mouthful. ‘I’m not sure I remember the last time someone did this for me.’ He pauses before taking a bite, looking at you in surprise.
‘Is that so?’ He looks thoughtful as he finishes off his mouthful, getting every trace from his fingers. ‘You are very welcome, cara mia. In fact I enjoyed doing this more than I thought.’ 
‘Am I out of a job now?’ You joke just to watch his eyes widen in panic.
‘Hold on no no!’ He shakes his head emphatically. ‘I did not mean that at all. I will always prefer your incredible cooking.’ 
‘I suppose I will stick around then,’ you reassure him.
‘Thank Satan as much as this was fun. I could not imagine doing it everyday, multiple times.’ He looks exhausted just thinking about it. ‘You are a superwoman, mia cuocoina.’ 
‘I’m not, I just enjoy it,’ you explain. You always had since you were young and had followed your mother around the kitchen.
 ‘Why do you think you were so drawn to cooking?’ He asks. It wasn’t something you had thought much about before. It had just been a fact of your life. 
‘Well I like food obviously,’ you say with a laugh but you pause as you think of what it is you enjoy most about it. ‘I think it's just such a big part of our lives, we have to eat to survive so why not make that as enjoyable as we can?’ Of course it is your job and has been for the longest time but there is a more personal element to it, especially when it comes to people you care about. ‘And you know if you can cook you can make your friend a delicious soup when they are ill, you can make their favourite pasta dish after they just got dumped or you can bewitch a man by making his stomach fall for you first,’ you finish with a wink.
‘Mmmm I see,’ he says sipping his wine, his eyes going heavy lidded as he regards you. ‘So this was your plan was it?’ His voice goes deep and teasing and you shift in your seat. 
‘No, just a happy accident.’ You lean towards him without even noticing, so easily drawn into his orbit. ‘I think my food was just too good for you to resist.’ He nods in agreement, conceding to your point but this conversation is far from its end.
‘And what about you?’ He holds your gaze, keeping you attentive to his every word. 
‘What about me?’ You ask, tilting your head not quite understanding his question.
‘What made you unable to resist your Papa?’ You swallow thickly. There are so many reasons you wouldn’t even know where to start.
‘You don’t need me to tell you how irresistible you are.’ you say instead. You aren’t against stroking his ego usually but you know he is well aware of his affect on people and you in particular. 
‘I have my own charms. I am in no doubt about that.’ He says confidently and you know it is true. ‘You though? I think it is a little different than any I have seduced before.’
‘Oh?’ You have an inkling where he is going with this. You had your suspicions that there were a lot more feelings involved then either of you were used to in your past relationships but this didn’t feel like the build up to a heartfelt confession. He was looking at you as if he had been leading you to a trap and you had just fallen in. 
‘You like feeding me.’ he states, matter of fact, placing his wine glass down on the table.
‘Yes we have discussed that.’ You are sure the two of you had discussed how you enjoyed taking care of him even as early as your first dinner together.  
‘No we haven’t. Feed me.’ His voice is hard but not cold as he orders you but you hesitate.
‘What?’ You think back trying to clear your confusion and you remember the lunch or more specifically just before when you had been reassuring him in his bedroom. You had known then that he wouldn’t drop that forever but it still didn’t make you any more prepared. 
‘I am not yet satisfied. Feed me.’ You swallow again, unable to control your body's reaction to his strict demands. You want to obey him, to feed him but again you hesitate. 
‘Terzo …’ He gives you a stern look cutting you off before you can continue. ‘Papa?’ It comes out as a question but it seems obvious what he wants. He rewards you with a smirk. 
‘I want some more gorgonzola, si,’ He encourages as you take a water cracker and begin to load it with cheese. ‘Plenty of honey too per favore then be a brava cuocoina and feed it to me. Then I will explain.’ You offer him the cracker and he tuts at you shaking his head.
‘Uh uh,’ he sighs. ‘Do it properly.’ He pushes the plates to the side and pats the table in front of him. You stand uncertainly but he pats the table again until you sit before him and offer him the cracker a second time. He scoots his chair forward forcing you to spread your legs to accommodate him but now he is in the perfect position for you to place the food in his waiting mouth. He chews slowly, moaning low as the flavours combine and harmonise on his tongue. 
‘Mia cuocoina, I think the taleggio now, no?’ You take his suggestion, the rolls of prosciutto and apple are much easier to feed him. He watches you for a moment before continuing. ‘There were clues you see but I did not notice at first. Now though, now your Papa understands.’ You offer him the next bite but his warm hand closes around your wrist holding you in place. 
‘You kiss me differently, did you know this? After we have eaten, you like me tasting of food you made me I think.’ You feel like you can’t breathe as he begins listing all the things he has noticed. ‘And my clothes, you look at me differently too, when things get a little tighter, tighter than they used to be. You like seeing how I have changed with every meal you have fed me I think.’ You can’t deny it because what he says is true. A part of you had hoped he might not have noticed everything but with every word that hope gets smaller and smaller. 
‘And now here. Your heart is racing and yet all I have done is eat a little from your own hands.’ He pauses to take a bite, his teeth sinking into the soft cheese and crisp apple and just grazing the tip of your fingers. ‘You enjoy feeding me, more than you realise I think.’ 
‘Papa I …’ You don’t know what to say. He doesn’t look angry or upset but you feel the urge to apologise even as words fail you. He swallows the last bite freeing your wrist.
‘Shhh it is ok mia cuocoina.’ His hands trail down to your ankles tracing miscellaneous shapes into your skin. ‘Cherries now per favore. The balsamic cherries with the mascarpone. His fingers creep up your calves ghosting the shape of you before hooking behind your knees. He pulls you forward until you are sitting at the edge of the table. You lean across him, choosing a butter cracker, the thicker texture better to support the soft cheese. 
‘I am craving something sweeter,’ he explains. You bring it to his lips, the cherry juice starting to drip down your fingers and he catches it with his tongue leaving a sticky trail behind it before closing his lips over the mouthful. Your breath catches in your throat and his eyelids droop seductively as he sucks the last traces of juice and cheese from your fingers. 
‘That didn’t quite hit the spot,’ he says, hands already sliding your skirt up your thighs until he can clearly see your underwear and the wet patch there is little point trying to hide. ‘Ah so I was right. You do enjoy hand feeding your Papa.’ He spreads your legs even further so he can lean close enough that you feel his steady breathing against you. ‘After all that fuss.’ He grazes his teeth over your clit, the material of your underwear protecting you but the threat still makes your thighs shake. When he does bite down it’s only on the hem of your underwear as he pulls them to the side leaving you bare to him for the first time.
He just looks at first holding you in suspense but in a split second his tongue is all over you yet somehow still not hitting any places you wanted him, needed him. Around and around he swirls his tongue over your folds, then the most gentle suction. Little sounds of enjoyment he seems unaware of that vibrate through you as he tastes you thoroughly. But his teasing as you fed him, his sucking and nipping at your fingers had already got you ready for so much more. Giving in you lace your fingers through his hair to guide him to exactly where you want his attention most but he resists all your attempts, making the frustration inside you build and build. You try another tactic grinding your hips against his face but he pulls away pressing your hips down onto the table and stopping any further movement and forcing a whine from deep in your chest.
‘Cuocoina, please. I am just trying to properly enjoy my meal.’ He pauses to lick a long stripe, tongue flat and broad to give you as much friction as possible. You can’t breathe, not for a moment, the sudden rush of pleasure the only thing your mind can comprehend but almost as soon as it starts it ends the only thing you can feel are the puffs of his warm breath.
‘But perhaps you would prefer to feed me this too?’ He positions himself that he is a hair's breadth away from you before his vice-like grip on your hips loosens. ‘Feed me’ he growls and you have to obey.
You grind your hips against him over and over, his tongue finding your entrance making your thighs shake as you fight to get him even deeper. Your foot loses purchase where it had settled on the arm of his chair and you scream as your clit catches the tip of his nose. One of his hands finds its way to your thigh helping to steady you but the other creeps up your body underneath your dress. He cups your breast over bra, his maddening fingers finding your already hard nipple through the light material pinching and twisting until you can't decide if you want to arch into his teasing hand or push back against his face. 
‘Papa! Terzooo,’ you moan his name in frustration, struggling as your pleasure builds to take what you need from him but he finally takes pity on you, hooking both your legs over his shoulders and lifting your hips clean off the table.
‘Fuck mia cuocoina,’ he growls against your core. He sucks your clit long and hard until you scream your toes curling against his back. ‘Sei la cosa migliore che abbia mai assaggiato, cazzo.’ You barely register his switch to Italian, too busy chanting his name in your pleasure fuelled delirium.
You are so close to the edge when his lips close over you sucking and sucking while his tongue swipes over your clit over and over again. You can feel it building, a charge shooting through your nerves from the soles of your feet to the palms of your hand and you continue babbling his name, repeating until it is almost meaningless. He pinches your nipple, hard, and you arch up from the table with a gasp just as he slides a finger inside you curling it perfectly to press against your g spot. 
Every bit of air is forced from your lungs as your orgasm overtakes you. Your ears begin to ring as the force of it pulses through your body and what feels like every muscle contracting and releasing as you gasp for air. Your hands are still gripping at his hair keeping him in place not that it is needed as he laps at you greedily, catching every last drop of your orgasm. 
‘Making sure you are well fed?’ You giggle deliriously, still feeling somewhat detached from reality. You release your death grip on his hair and he sets your hips back down on the table helping you ease the vice-like grip of your thighs around him. His face is wet with your slick but it only emphasises his flushed cheeks. He grins at you in satisfaction, his eyes sparkling as he takes in the state he has made of you.
He pulls you back upright by your hands after straightening your underwear and your dress but this time no one could mistake the treatment you had just received. Your balance has not yet returned and so helps you into his lap where you can lean against his warm body. As you get settled you can feel his hardness trapped beneath you but as you reach for him cupping him through his trousers, he catches your wrist gently and instead wraps your arms around his neck. He distracts you by stealing kisses and you discover you almost enjoy the taste of you on his lips as much as you enjoy the taste of the food you make him.   
He slows your frantic kisses down, only offering you slow pecks to help you actually catch your breath. He rubs your back soothingly over your dress and encourages you to rest against him but you still end up clinging to his shoulders to help keep you upright as the haze of your pleasure recedes leaving you exhausted. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand settling at the back of your neck.
‘Mmm, now I am satisfied,’ he whispers against your lips before distracting you again with his captivating kisses. 
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lynzishell · 23 hours
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The Past 🩵 Asher
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Once we’re seated and buckled, Lex turns to me to begin her interrogation before I even have a chance to pull out of the parking garage. “Okay, so, first things first, did you sleep with him?”
I glance over at her, surprised by her question. I figured that was implied considering we left the club together last night and I didn’t come home until this afternoon, but good for her for not making assumptions, I guess. “Yeah, I did,” I say, fighting a losing battle with the smile spreading across my face. 
She smacks me in the arm and gasps, “Really? How was it?”
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This really isn’t the part of the night that I need to talk through, but I allow myself a moment to think about it anyway. I prop my arm up on the door so I can rest my head against my hand. My hair feels clean and soft, and still smells faintly of his shampoo, sparking a memory of running my hands over his body in the shower. The image makes my stomach flutter, and my voice comes out a little dreamy when I speak, “It was amazing.”
“Amazing? Well, I’m going to have follow-up questions.”
“And I won’t be answering any of those questions.”
“Ugh, fine,” she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, “So, then what happened? How did things go from ‘amazing’ to you sobbing into my shoulder and getting snot all over my jacket?”
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“I don’t know. Like, the whole night was great. It was fun, and he was so sweet, and it really felt like… It wasn't just a hook up, it was more than that. Or at least I thought so. Maybe I was just projecting or seeing what I wanted to see because I… fuck, I’m so embarrassed… whatever, I kinda put myself out there today, really thinking he’d reciprocate, but—”
“He didn’t?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
“Same thing he always says. He doesn’t want to date me because we work together. He just wants to be friends. I don’t know, maybe I’m the asshole. How many times does he have to tell me he just wants to be friends? And I’m over here like, ‘are you sure? how ‘bout now?’ What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to stop.”
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“Babe, c’mon, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. I know you. You wouldn’t do that if you didn’t really believe he felt the same way. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you, you’re not imagining it. Sounds to me like he’s saying one thing but acting another and he’s fucking with your head and that’s not okay. If he truly wants to be your friend, then he needs to act like a friend, and he’s not. If you ask me, he’s the asshole, and you deserve a hell of a lot better.”
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“I hear you; I do. He’s not an asshole, though. He’s really not. I think maybe it’s more complicated than that. Like, he was so kind, and affectionate… I really felt like he cared. And then today, he just looked so sad when I was leaving. You know how he does sometimes. But I’ve never seen him more down than he looked today, and my heart just, I don’t know, I just want to take that sadness away. I feel like I could make him happy if he’d let me.”
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“Careful, Ash. Don’t do that. Don’t fall into that trap of thinking you can rescue him or fix him or something. That’s some toxic co-dependent shit. Pretty sure you get enough of that with your sister.”
“Ow.” Leave it to Lex to stab you in the heart with her honesty. I respect it, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 
“Did you or did you not drop everything to rush out to the Bay to help her the second she asked?”
“Yes, but—”
“Are your parents home?”
“Yes.”
“So, in theory, they could help her with her baby furniture or whatever today?”
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I let her words sink in. I’ve gotten better at setting boundaries with Iris, but apparently, I still have some work to do. It didn’t even feel like an option to say no to her today, but now that seems ridiculous. Now, I wish I hadn’t rushed out on Atlas. Maybe we could’ve had a nice day together. Maybe I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself if I wasn’t so frazzled and trying to make everyone happy all at once. Damn. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know.”
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“I don’t think I’m doing that with Atlas though. Like, sure, I want to make him happy when he’s sad, and maybe I overestimate my ability to do so, but I’ve never felt a need to ‘save’ him or whatever. It’s not like that. I just… I like him so much, Lex. I really do. I love spending time with him. And I love the way he makes me feel when we’re together. I could’ve sworn he felt the same way. I mean, just the way he…” my voice trails off as I remember all the ways he looked at me and smiled at me and kissed me and touched me, and then his words “Ash, you’re perfect, you know that?”, and the tenderness in his voice and in his eyes when he said it. The sweet way he kissed my forehead in the bathroom. The way he held me as we slept.
“The way he what? Hello? Where did you go?”
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“You know what? I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not. I know he feels it too. So, maybe he really is just super weird about dating people he works with. I mean, on paper it seems logical, right? To not mix your professional life with your romantic one?”
“I don’t know. I guess? What are you getting at?”
“Well, it’s an easy enough obstacle to remove, don’t you think?”
“You’re gonna quit your job over a guy you’ve only known a few months?”
“Why not? It’s better than giving up on a great guy over some job I've only had a few months. I’m not just gonna quit though, don’t worry. I’ll get something else lined up first. But I have a decent portfolio. I don’t think it’ll be that hard.”
“Okay. Well, what if it doesn’t work? What if he’s full of shit, making excuses? What if you leave for him and he still just wants to be friends.”
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“Honestly, at this point, if there’s any chance of me being his friend, I think I’ll need some distance for a while to get over him. And also, if I call his bluff and tell him I’m going to quit, and he still doesn’t want to be with me, then hopefully he’ll at least have the decency to tell me the real reason why. Otherwise, maybe I shouldn’t even try being his friend. Maybe, in that case, I’d have to face that he’s not who I thought he was and move on. But I won’t be able to do that unless I know for sure. So yeah, the more I think about it, this seems like the obvious solution regardless of the outcome.”
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She pouts at me, clearly not happy, but she doesn’t have an argument against it, so she concedes, “I hate it when you’re right.”
“I know.” I reach over and hold her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Sorry about your jacket.”
She smiles at that, “It’s okay. Do you feel better at least?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Worth it then.”
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Prev // Next
AN: Thank you so so much @madebycoffee for creating the perfect poses for this scene!!! This was my very first car scene and I was so nervous about it, but I love how it turned out and I couldn't have done it without you!! 🥹🩵🧡
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demonstars · 2 days
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wanted to paint these properly but got lazy SO. dnf dancing cueca chilena 🇨🇱 and polca montuvia 🇪🇨. in the first dream as china, jorge as huaso, and then them both as montuvios from the ecuador coast once again infodumping under the cut!
la cueca chilena has a complicated origin which i will not get into right now because i mostly forgot everything about it. oops. what does matter is that it is the typical dance around las fiestas patrias (as a fun fact: september 19th is the day of military glory which is. well. whatever it's a holiday yknow. yesterday was day of independence.) what is important to note here is that, as a courting dance, there are many variations of coquettish and cute movements to be done as a couple as they dance. the idea is to mimic the courting of a chicken and a rooster, funny enough
they're both using napkins, which are an important part of the dance, worn in the right hand and which serve to decorate the dance. there's a great (and sadly dying) tradition of weaving these napkins. dream is thus "hiding" himself from george's "courting" as a way to get him to insist more, and hopefully earn himself another dance so they spend more time together on the dancefloor :3
cueca is a dance that allows a lot of freedom to the dancers, with only three "stages" that they must pass do. there are many subgenres, such as cueca brava (angry), chilota (from a particular island), de salón, rock, and genres created to protest, such as cueca sola (lonely). THIS HAS NO IMPORTANCE TO THE DRAWING I JUST REALLY LIKE THE DANCE AND WHAT IT REPRESENTS.
now with polca montuvia, it has a more direct origin, being brought from spaniards colonizers and all of that not fun stuff. there aren't particular roles as far as I'm aware (aside from. men/women. yknwo). it is a very fun dance!!!
this is a musical subgenre that emerges from the ecuadorian coast, and it is a reclamation from the fancy vals dances that used to occur in the center of the city. by transforming the melodies, rhymes and steps of the general polka, a new version was created. it is often danced in the same parties in which amorfinos, villancicos or alzas are sang/danced.
there is a lot of negative perceptions as to who montuvios are or what their celebrations where, considered "drunken, messy people". this has resulted in a lot of degrading comments of these dances, but I find them absolutely wonderful :(((
according to the local mythos, this particular dance was created because the orenses (people from the "los oros" province) wanted a dance for themselves. it has evolved past this point by now, but the fight for identity is still present in many of the songs in which you would dance polka montuvia.
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demodraws0606 · 3 days
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Okay so I have made a really bad post trying to descredit Eden taking the tape as something super important so I'm just gonna drop the actual post I was preparing instead of trying to catch Eden!Culprit theories with a half baked post.
The main issue I'm having with Eden!Culprit theories right now is mostly because of stubborness that since Eden took the tape then she HAS to have done it even though if she was the culprit it would make 0 sense as to why she wouldn't just take the tape after Teruko and Ace left the room ? Like someone could've easily told her to take the tape, it's not that hard and it just makes more sense with the other evidence layed out for us.
The main reason I accepted Eden as the culprit before is because there were no possible culprits since Levi was pretty much confirmed innocent and there was still a likelyhood of Eden working for someone. However, this pretty much now rendered null and void. I swear all of this makes it sound like I have some grudge against this theory but I really need to put this subject to rest before the answer is probably revealed to us on friday. I want to make sure this theory is dead in the ground even if it's just for me personally, because it just has too many holes for me.
Also sorry if this seems mainly just a repeat of stuff I've already said, I'm not really good at structuring my posts :')
I've seen the argument that Arei actually wasn't knocked out with the turpentine because why would they bind her wrist then. However, we know she had to have been knocked because there is no struggle shown, either on her body or the floor of the playground. Weither she was suffocated or knocked out, the tape was still used on her wrist so this can't be something to be used against the idea of turpentine knocking her out. This means there is high likelyhood that it was used because it would make no sense for the culprit to just suffocate Arei before killing her (and again suffocating would show more signs of struggle than what we see on the crime scene).
There's also no other items that Arei could've been suffocated with other than the rope which would've left marks, the ball of starch clearly is stuck together most likely by turpentine which means it would've been used to knock out someone.
This would mean the culprit had to have used the turpentine to knock out Arei as well, meaning the culprit had to have gotten their hands on the turpentine.
I also refuse the idea of Eden trying to kill Ace, not only because I just find it ridiculous from a character standpoint but mainly because we know it was Hu's murder weapon that was used against Ace (the wire) considering there is no evidence of any other wire existing in this killing game that would be sharp enough to slice someone's throat. Hu's wire is part of the weapons which is evidence alone that it would be sharp enough to harm Ace bc otherwise what purpose does a wire serve. I don't believe for a second that Hu would just have her weapon lying around for anyone to yoink, unlike the turpentine which we know had to have been used by Nico and Rose when they were painting together.
In fact the story has made it clear how complicated taking someone weapon's is by having Arei's weapon only being available after she discarded it. The same can be said of the turpentine which was used out in the open and would make it easy to take with Rose's absent mindedness. If taking someone's weapon was just as easy as that, they wouldn't have given us the scene of Arei throwing out her rope like that in the first place.
Eden also has no reason to want to replicate Ace's murder onto Arei, there's basically no logical motivation behind that. In fact the progression between Ace's attempted and Arei's succesful murder proves alone that it's the same culprit (if the turpentine's existence wasn't enough). We can see the progression of the culprit trying to avoid the same mistakes they committed with Ace's failed murder (trying to snap Arei's neck to avoid the possibility of her getting saved last minute like Ace, bounding her hands potentially to make her more stable to lift upwards).
We don't even know if she figured out how the murder even worked considering it was completely undone when Teruko and Eden saw it.
Even the timing of when Eden knew about the clothing is off. We know the ball of clothing is probably sticky due to the turpentine because there is no other leads to explain why this ball of clothing is even a thing in this murder case. Turpentine is both clear and sticky, which would explain how the ball of clothing is both clear of stains and sticking together like that. Considering also that we know for a fact Ace was knocked out, and I don't think the culprit straight just shoved a jar of turpentine on his face, they most likely used some sort of tissue to smother them with (meaning it couldn't have been used to asphexiate Arei). This means the ball of clothes was used in Ace's attempted murder.
Eden only knew about the clothing change from Hu, we can only assume the same day that Ace's was murdered and probably not long before the attempt. This both clears Eden going to the changing room as the ""ball of starch"" was most likely already created before that, the only arguemnt it could be used for is that she was trying to retrieve it but it barely makes sense.
In terms of the timing of when Eden knew about the clothes and Ace's murder, if Hu only told her the same night that Ace was almost murdered it makes the timing insanely more difficult to justify. Unlike Hu who would have the pieces ready way more in advance.
All of these contradictions cannot be debunked by saying "well Eden took the tape", as it could easily be explained by the culprit asking her to take the tape from the gym or her just taking it without purpose and then the culprit getting their hands on it later.
The Eden!Culprit theory is barely hanging onto one piece of shakey evidence that can easily be broken by one justification.
If Nico can't be the culprit despite having the turpentine (well I don't think they do but 99 pourcent of Eden!culprit theories rely on Eden not really committing the attempted murder of Ace) then Eden doesn't have to be the culprit taking the tape.
The only way you can argue Eden is the culprit is if she tried to kill Ace, however this is impossible because of Hu's weapon. This is basically the summary of my main issue with the whole Eden!Culprit theory.
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rems-writing · 16 hours
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Cyberpunk's bartender
》 Pairing: bartender!Wooyoung x gn!erader
》 Genre: Fluff
》 Wordcount: 1,800 words
》 Rating: nc-17
Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet
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Wooyoung chuckled to himself as he saw a group of girls walk inside the club and saw one of them stand out from the others. She looked sheepish and definitely did not want to be outdoors right now. He understood far too well that sometimes, people just don’t like being forced to go out. As soon as Mingi, the bouncer that let these women in, gave a signal and pointed to the incredibly shy girl that flinched at everything, Wooyoung nodded and gave a thumbs-up in return. After all, he was also used to helping introverts like that woman escape. 
“I NEED THREE TEQUILA SUNRISES FOR BOOTH 1024!”
Wooyoung heard Jongho’s voice resonate within the dingy strip club and he nodded. He set to work on making the mixed drinks, pouring each amount of tequila perfect into the metal shaker before adding ice and closing it. He started shaking it with one hand while the other gathered three glasses so he could pour the drink in. Once he set the shaker down, he grabbed a strainer and placed it over the opened shaker before pouring each drink into the frosted glasses. He grabbed the tiny umbrellas and stabbed three maraschino cherries before topping the drinks with it. 
“THREE TEQUILA SUNRISES!”
Wooyoung’s voice was incredibly loud, even through the booming techno music the strippers were dancing to. Jongho hurried over to the bar and grabbed the drinks carefully before thanking him and walking over towards the booth. Wooyoung sighed and quickly washed his tools so he could prepare for making the next few drinks. He hated using dirty tools when making drinks. He believed that the remnants from the last cocktail mixed in with the new cocktail would make it taste bad. It’s a silly ideology, but to him, it made the most sense. He was currently watching the crowd and observing the different dynamics they got going on here. Soon, he felt a presence in front of him and he smiled brightly. 
“Well well. If it isn’t my favorite customer.”
You giggled and playfully rolled your eyes at his compliment. Wooyoung had first met you when you came in with so much stress. You weren’t one to drown your sorrows in alcohol, but you had just about enough. As an event coordinator and a travel planner, it seemed like you could never catch a break. The only upside to your job is that you were self-employed so you were your own boss and you could take as many days off as you want. After the occasions you helped out with, you were definitely taking a month long vacation. 
“Do you say that to all your customers?”
“Of course not, doll. They aren’t as put-together as you.”
“Ok ok fine. Enough with your pretty words. You know the drill.”
“So the usual then?”
You nodded and Wooyoung set straight to work. He decided to put on a little show for you since you expressed that you felt fascinated with the way Wooyoung makes drinks. From a simple whiskey on the rocks to the most complicated cocktail (i.e. the cosmopolitan), you believed he had the magic touch. After Wooyoung set your drink down, you thanked him and took a sip. You were surprised. Your usual, which was green apple Crown Royal mixed with Sprite, tasted stronger than usual. Not that you didn’t mind of course. You had a strong tolerance. However, this normally only had one shot of Crown mixed into it. 
“Woo. Did you put two shots in this?”
“I did. And before you ask, I didn’t fuck up. I added another shot intentionally. After everything you’ve told me, I figured you’d need to relax a bit more.”
Your heart fluttered at Wooyoung’s thoughtfulness and you thanked him by raising your glass to him. He poured his own shot and clinked his glass with you before knocking it back. He set his empty shot glass in the sink and handed you the menu. 
“Order what you want. It’s on the house.”
“Woo, no -”
Wooyoung reached over and put his finger on your lips to shush you. Normally, you would’ve rolled your eyes and shoved his finger off, but for some reason, you felt a bit flustered under his touch today. It definitely wasn’t the alcohol speaking. You weren’t even tipsy yet! Perhaps it’s just the environment you’re in. After all, you were technically in a place where women’s hormones go crazy. Once upon a time, you used to be like them. Now? You had your priorities straight. 
“It’s fine, doll. I mean it.”
“Fine… I’ll take the takoyaki and katsu pork bites please.”
“Want to throw some potstickers in there as well?”
“Sure.”
Wooyoung nodded and took your order to the kitchen while you sipped on your drink. While you were waiting for him, you noticed a girl trying to shrink back into the booth she was at with, who you assumed were, her coworkers. You chuckled as she tried her best to be a wallflower in a place such as Cyberpunk. You also felt bad for her as well. Mingi told you briefly about this woman and you honestly wanted to beat those women’s asses. Sadly, it’s none of your business. The most you can do is wish that she smoothly escapes them as soon as possible. 
“One order of takoyaki, katsu pork bites, and potstickers for my favorite customer.”
Wooyoung’s voice snapped you out of your observant haze quickly and you turned around to see the food placed in front of you. You were salivating. After weeks of eating nothing but healthy food in your own home, you considered today a cheat day. You grabbed your chopsticks and picked up a katsu pork bite before eating it. Apparently, this was a new thing on the menu. 
And you hoped they’d keep it. 
“Woo… this is fucking bomb! Tell the chef to keep this on the menu!”
Wooyoung chuckled smoothly and found your love for bar food so adorable. He made a mental note to do that before he left. As he watched you eat, he couldn’t help but stare at you. The way your hair fell in front of your face (he wanted to reach out and tuck it behind your ear), the way your cheeks puffed up as you kept eating (there were a few crumbs stuck to the corners of your mouth and he wanted to wipe them away with his thumb badly), and the way you drank your strong drink with such poise? Yeah this man is in love. 
“I NEED A ROUND OF SHOTS PLUS THE STRONGEST DRINK YOU HAVE FOR BOOTH 1117!”
Jongho’s voice broke Wooyoung out of his lovestruck stupor and he sighed deeply. He knew which booth Jongho was referring to. Setting to work, he first made the cocktail since it was a longer process. Once the drink was made, he took out a lot of shot glasses and placed them on the tray. 
“WHAT ALCOHOL DO THEY WANT?!”
Jongho asked the customer real quick on what shots they wanted to order before yelling back. 
“SOJU!”
Wooyoung nodded and took out some soju bottles before pouring the spirit into each frosted shot glass. Once he was done, he double checked to make sure everything was in order before shouting out to Jongho.
“A ROUND OF SOJU SHOTS AND A STRONG COCKTAIL!”
Jongho walked over and grabbed the tray once more before placing a dollar bill in front of Wooyoung. It was a tip. A generous one at that. Wooyoung pocketed the money before turning back to you. His eyes widened at the empty plate and they trailed up to you, still sipping on your drink as if you didn’t order so much bar food. 
“Well I’ll be damned. I’m calling you Kirby with the way you practically inhaled that food.”
“That would require me having a black hole for a stomach though, and we both know I don’t have that.”
Wooyoung laughed at your sassy reply and nodded before pouring himself another shot.
“To our aspirations of becoming Kirby!”
You clinked glasses and knocked back your drinks before setting the glass down. Wooyoung took your empty glass and looked back up at you. 
“You want a refill?”
“Nah. It’s ok. I think I’m done for today.” 
“Perfect!”
You were confused as to why Wooyoung said that and said it in that tone. It wasn’t until your eyes landed on an empty shot glass that you realized what he was doing. You immediately shook your head. 
“I have work tomorrow -”
“What time do your clients come in?”
“Uh… around noon or 2 PM.”
“Great! Now come on. Knock one back with me.”
“Wooyoung, I don’t know -”
“Did you drive here? If you did, I’ll take your decline.”
“Well no. My car’s in the shop so I took an uber here…”
“All the more reason to take a shot! Come on. It’s Friday!” 
“Woo…”
Wooyoung took your hand in his and rubbed your knuckles with his thumb. You felt more flustered than before and you couldn’t help but find him so handsome underneath the dim lighting of the bar. His black hair was tied back into a small ponytail while two strands hung in front of his face. His jawline was sharp, his lips looked tempting and kissable, and his eyes were shining with mischief and amusement. There was also a sincerity behind them too. 
“You work so hard, Y/N. You deserve this. I’ll take care of you. Like always.”
You didn’t say anything, prompting Wooyoung to continue. 
“I’m not going to lie. I mainly just wanted to flirt with you and get a rise out of you. I’m fine with being friends. However, if you’re on the same wavelength as me, then I will tell you right now. I fell in love with you. I’m so in love with the way you talk, move, and hold yourself. I figured someone like me could never be with someone like you. But I’m willing to shoot my shot and give us a try. The question now is… are you?”
You were taken aback by Wooyong’s confession. The bartender that you like also likes you back. You felt your heart hurt when he said that he doesn’t deserve someone like you when in reality, it’s sort of the vice verse. However, seeing as he’s willing to give it a try, you thought “Fuck it.” in the back of your mind. You were independent, made good money, and had a stable life overall. Why not share that life with someone? You intertwined your fingers with his and a small smile appeared on your face. 
“Yeah… I’m willing to give us a try.”
With that, you both took your shots, and the rest is now history. 
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Text
Make you mine - Part Two- Lucifer x fallen angel!fem!reader
Go to part one Words: ~2250 TW: swearing, mentions of sex
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"You don't stay?" you asked, as you watched Adam getting dressed, your breath still feeling heavy. You've heard many angels say he was a busy man, but you at least hoped he'd spend the night with you.
"Nah. Got better things to do than watching you sleep, sweetheart." He gave you a cocky smirk as he got up, pulling his shirt on over his head. He took a couple of steps towards you, his gaze drifting over your body for a moment longer. Your heart ached at his words, a feeling of vulnerability washing over you, your eyes getting a bit teary.
"Hey, hey, what's with that look? You didn't seriously expect me to cuddle up with you and stay the night, did you?" he asked.
"Well... I hoped you would stick around for a while..."
He sighed at your words, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ok, here's what we're gonna do. Extermination Day is in two fucking days, babe. I have a lot of things to do." he explained, studying your reaction for a moment, before speaking again. "I might be able to stay longer after that. Just two more days. I'll stay a little longer afterwards, okay dollface?"
You smiled a bit at his words, nodding slightly as you covered your body with your wings. He turned around to leave, but something still bothered you, something you desperately needed an answer to.
"Adam?" you asked your voice low, almost a whisper. His hand stopped on the doorknob as he turned to face you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.
"Yes?"
Your wings wrapped tightly around you, almost like a protective shield as you thought about the right words to ask him.
"What are we?"
He raised an eyebrow at your question, a bit taken aback by it. "We're... having fun, you know," he said with a forced smile. "Does it really need a label, doll?"
You thought for a moment, not really knowing what to make out of it, but the sickening feeling in your gut surely told you it was not the answer you expected. "I... I guess not?"
"Right. Then there's no need to complicate things, is there? We're having a good time, and that's all that matters, right?" You nodded slightly, trying to force a smile so he wouldn't question you anymore, so he would finally leave you alone. "You sure you're fine? You look like you're about to cry or something," he teased, his tone more playful than concerned. You nodded again, the answer good enough to make him leave you alone in the cold room.
You weren't sure if you expected this to happen or not. You weren't even sure if he was gonna come back. But even if you expected it or not, it still hurt you like hell. You pulled your wings closer as if shielding yourself from the cold emptiness he left behind. You told yourself it was just a fling, but it never felt like that to you.
You couldn't wait for the day to become a proper exorcist. Maybe just then he'll finally give you some more credit...
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You couldn't help but smile as you listened to Charlie explaining the whole purpose of her hotel. Adam did tell you some things, but you just now realise how much he kept you in darkness.
"I want them all to have a chance to redeem!" she said excitedly, but a sudden hint of sadness replaced the look on her face. "If only Heaven would listen to me..."
Her eyes widened as you placed a hand on her shoulder, your smile genuine. "I didn't know all these... They... kind of keep us away from the truth up there..." Her smile returned slightly. A part of her knew this would be the case. It was kind of hard to believe that no one in Heaven would share her dreams if they knew.
"Yeah, they usually like doing so..." Lucifer's voice echoed in the room, making your body tense slightly as you both turned to face him. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at the two of you. There was a hint of a smirk on his face as he spoke. "I see the two of you are getting along." He said, his tone slightly sarcastic.
"Dad, I have the perfect idea!" Charlie said, the stiffness in your body slightly disappearing. "I have that meeting with Heaven tomorrow. Why don't we tell them (Y/n) is here? She told me she had some friends there so maybe-"
"Absolutely not." He said bluntly, the smile on both of your faces disappearing completely.
"But... maybe they'll take her back to Heaven..." Charlie protested.
"And punish her for betraying them?" You and Charlie looked at each other, the hope you might have had left slowly fading. He sighed, stepping closer, his eyes fixed on you. "Look... I know this place is... not your cup of cake, but trust me when I say it is better than what those exorcists would do to you." He said and you could tell there was a hint of remorse on his face. "Besides, Adam-"
"Adam?" you asked quickly as you heard his name, a glint of hope reappearing on your face. "Will Adam be there too?"
Lucifer looked at you, his expression hardening as you mentioned Adam. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he didn't like it one bit. "Unfortunately, yes." He said with a slight sneer. "He'll be there. All the higher-ranking angels are obligated to attend those meetings."
"Adam will listen!" you protested, the sudden pain in your back as you tried to move, making you calm down a bit. "He will tell them to get me back."
Lucifer chuckled darkly at your naive belief. "Oh sweetheart, you're quite naive, aren't you?" He said, his tone condescending. He leaned closer, his eyes studying your face intently."Do you really think Adam—or anyone up there—cares enough to even notice you? You're a deserter, a traitor to them. They won't hesitate to destroy you if they get the chance."
"No... you have to listen!" your gaze shifted between them, frustration building up inside of you. "I knew Adam. We... We have a history." you said, even though a part of you wasn't sure if you could call it that. But you really hoped he cared about you enough to take you out of this place... He used to say it, at least. "He'll come after me, please!"
You noticed his eyebrows furrowing slightly at your words, as he sighed."Even if Adam were to care about you, and that's a big 'if', what good do you think it would do? The Archangels would never allow your return to Heaven, and Adam certainly has no power there."
"Dad... I'm sure Adam defending her will surely... have some impact." Charlie said, knowing this might be your only way out. "We have to try at least."
Lucifer's irritation only seemed to grow, but his face slightly softened as he saw his daughter so determined. His eyes met yours once again. He saw hope in them - a very naive, but honest hope. He knew it would be in vain, but he couldn't help but think - what if you were right?
What if Adam changed and actually cared about someone? He knew he was very much able to, but were you, a simple exorcist, this important for him?
He sighed, clearing his throat. "Fine. But I will do the talking." his eyes shifted to Charlie. "You two stay here. This is a... delicate subject and I need to think how to approach it."
Charlie smiled, and you couldn't help but feel extremely grateful too. Your mind already wanders at how you will return and how the pain will disappear. But something in Lucifer's eyes intrigued you. It was a look that crushed your soul just a tiny bit. A look of doubt. And for a moment even you stopped to wonder -
Did Adam really care?
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Adam stood in the chair in the meeting room, when he heard the door opening. "You're kind of late, Princess Morningstar," he said, a pinch of annoyance in his tone as his eyes were still concentrated on some golden papers.
Lucifer walked into the meeting room, his steps measured and deliberate. He took a few steps toward Adam, a hint of disgust on his face as he eyed his 'old pal'. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Adam." He said sarcastically, his tone dripping with false pleasantry. "You know how it is. Royal duties and all that."
Adam's eyes opened wide as Lucifer's voice echoed in the room. "You? What the fuck are you doin' here?!"
He smirked at Adam's reaction, clearly enjoying the look of surprise on his face. "Oh, I just thought I'd grace you all with my presence." He said, twirling his cane in his hand. "After all, it's not every day that Hell gets a chance to chat with Heaven's finest."
"You fucker! You're lucky I'm not actually down there or else...." he began, his hologram glitching slightly as the frustration built up inside of him. He stopped, a bad feeling coming his way. "This is not about your brat's hotel, is it?" he asked, sensing something more behind this meeting.
Lucifer chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Adam. "Oh, you know me too well." He said sarcastically. "But no, this isn't just about the hotel. I have a different matter I want to discuss with you."
Adam took a bite of his ribs, as he sat back down into his chair. "What is it?"
"I think you miss an exorcist, Adam."
Adam's eyebrows furrowed as Lucifer's words sunk in. He was about to take another bite of his ribs, but he froze midway. "What the hell did you say?" He dropped the ribs onto the table, his gaze turning sharp and focused on Lucifer. "Lute! Get yo ass here!" He shouted and the exorcist quickly entered the room, tightly holding her spear. "Are any of the exorcists missing?"
Lute shook her head firmly. "Absolutely not. I had them all assembled this morning for inspection. They all-" she stopped for a moment, thinking. "Shit..."
Adam's eyes narrowed as he saw Lute hesitate. He sat up straight, his mind racing. "Spit it out. What's going on?" he demanded, his voice harsh and impatient.
"There was one rookie missing..." She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, realising she'd been so busy in the past few days that she completely forgot to announce your disappearance.
"And you forgot to mention this until now?" he said, a hint of frustration present in his tone.
Lute winced. She hated to admit that Adam was right - she was slipping on the job. But she straightened up, trying to maintain her composure. "I had a lot on my mind, okay?! I've had to keep all those rookie exorcists in check while you've been busy with those Virtue chicks!"
"Not the point!" Adam intervened, his attention back on Lucifer. "So what if there's a rookie missing? We have plenty of more," he said, his voice nonchalant about the whole situation.
Lucifer smirked as he saw Adam's reaction. He had a feeling this would play out exactly like this. "Ah, but this isn't just any rookie." He said casually, a hint of mockery in his tone. "She told me that you were quite... acquainted."
Adam thought for a moment about all the rookies he talked to recently... too many possibilities. "Who exactly are we talkin' about here, Lucifer? What's her name?" His voice was now filled with a mix of intrigue and tension.
"Oh, you know her quite well, actually. She goes by (Y/n). Sounds familiar?"
"(Y/n)..." he repeated, a lightbulb lighting up. "Oh... Yeah..." he said, giggling a bit. "Eh, whatever."
"W-What?" Lucifer said, surprised by his nonchalance.
"Look, don't get me wrong. The chick's fine. We fucked a few times, but, hell-" he snorted, an amused smirk on his face. "I ain't gonna come down there for her."
"Is that so?" He said, his voice laced with a hint of anger. "You don't care about what happens to her? Despite your... history?"
"History? Slow down a bit... Did she tell you all these stories? About us?"
"Well, I-"
"Um, no." Adam interrupted. "Tell her I'm not coming down there to get her ass. If she survives until the next Extermination... I might consider it, but still, no." he said, getting up to make his way out of the room.
"Wait! You... You really don't care?"
Adam stopped for a moment, thinking. "Nope, not really. I have plenty of others up there." He turned to face him, a smirk on his face. "See? Take it as a gift. I know you have a kink for things that I fucked." His laughing echoed through the room as he disappeared, leaving Lucifer alone in the darkness.
"You little... insufferable..." He clenched his hand tightly around his cane, the veins in his forehead standing out.
The words Adam spoke echoed in Lucifer’s mind, gnawing at him. He’d seen it before—angels who cast aside loyalty like old robes. But there was something about you, something familiar in your heartbreak, that made it sting even more.
How was he going to tell you? How could he tell you that the only person you seemed to trust discarded you so easily?
How could he possibly look into your eyes, just to see the hope leaving them? How could he do that when every time he looked at you...
He saw himself.
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Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @diffidentphantom @helreyy
@athanasthos @selfship-and-fandom-shenanigans
@xghostnuggsx @vxllys @ustulia
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supahstarrr · 12 hours
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I love Eden and I'm trying to keep my list of potential culprits open but what interests me is that the crying and begging of hers seem to slowly transition into manipulation in a subtle way. "Is it because you think I hate her!" "You're my friend right... friends help each other... So please help me!" stuck out too me so much.
But then again I don't think that the subtle manipulation may automatically pin to her being the murder, in fact I'd say it's a normal reaction to be manipulative during a situation that fuels desperation, so I won't analyze her lines that much. Like seriously of course somebody's going to act shady when they're being accused of murder lol. Like look I do think she could be a potential suspect but at the same time I just think (for now) there's no need to analyze her words that much until we see more of her behavior. Anyways.
When I kept hearing her lines I just kept transitioning to feeling bad for her and slightly feeling as if she was being suspicious and over again... got me feeling complicated
Even more complicated because of the parallels with the Teru & Min moment like... Oh god. Had me in my damn feels, I just love how Eden sounds soft yet gritty at some parts. You can feel so many emotions and I sense the rage behind her words, perhaps even regret and self blame but maybe I'm going too far with my interpretations lol. What an episode. Oh and why the fuck was nobody suspecting Whit like what the hell
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thecovenofcrows · 3 days
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Hello, my name is Noha, a mother of 4 children in Gaza. We now live in inhumane conditions, lacking all the necessities of life. We have lost our home and our loved ones. We have been forced to move more than 9 times so far and we are now subject to an evacuation order. My children and I were forced to live in this. The infected place, in tents that do not protect us from anything, neither the cold of winter nor the heat of summer. We have been here for months, among the filth and sewage. My children are sick and suffer from wasting, hepatitis, and many other complications, skin and respiratory diseases. We cannot obtain food or medicine. There is no water for cleaning or bathing.There is no place to shower, we literally live in filth!! Diseases and epidemics, what is our fault in all of this? Do we have to face all this to survive death? To die slowly every day? From hunger, thirst, illness, fatigue, or even from depression and fear! My children long for their warm bed and our beautiful home, but now they have turned to ashes, missing their schools, their friends, and their most basic rights as children! They miss their forgotten childhood among tents and water lines, searching for food or killing harmful insects that attack them throughout the day
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egophiliac · 5 months
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Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !
Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)
I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!
someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)
uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE
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#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 4 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 4 spoilers#mel is so cute but mal fits with the rest of the draconias better#eng version no you were supposed to save me not make things MORE confusing#anyway raverne huh#that uh. that sure feels like it's supposed to evoke raven doesn't it.#what does it mean WHAT DOES IT MEAN#hold on i'm going to flail around embarrassingly about anime character theories now#(okay first a disclaimer: i do think we need to sit down as a fandom at some point)#(and have a discussion about exactly what is actual canon versus meta speculation versus jokes)#(because i think there has been. some confusion. over that re:crowley and raverne specifically)#(but i do feel justified in being like THEY ARE PROBABLY CONNECTED SOMEHOW RIGHT?! right now)#like i really don't think it's as simple as crowley being raverne but with memory loss or something#(and if they pull that on us i'm going to need an EXTREMELY good explanation to go with it to justify that)#they've gone out of their way several times now to make a point about them acting and sounding different and it feels very intentional to m#(and once again: i super 100% absolutely do not believe that lilia wouldn't recognize him with the top half of his face covered)#i just think the contradictions are a lot stronger than the connections right now but there ARE some connections and i'm 👀ing at them#to be fair the connections are mostly meta like crowley being diablo/raverne being evocative of raven#also the general 'raverne mysteriously disappeared and apparently had distinctive eyes' thing#versus 'crowley's past is unknown and he never shows his eyes'#(i will argue that crowley DOES seem to have some kind of canon connection to briar valley)#(since he is clearly some sort of fae and the masks are a briar valley thing)#and that is kinda it right now isn't it#okay hold on i had to delete some tags because i used too many (thanks tumblr for letting me know and not just vanishing them OH WAIT)#so tl;dr: i'm in the 'crowley is connected to raverne somehow but it's more complicated than just him being in disguise' camp personally#but that will probably change as we get more info and also don't take this as an anti-speculation thing because i love theories HOORAY
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antiadvil · 2 months
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This video has me thinking: does anyone else have stories about how you would have died if not for modern medicine? I don’t know that I would have died, but I had strep throat for like a week once before getting antibiotics which definitely would have been a dice roll before penicillin. Feel free to rb and put stories in the tags or just add them on if you’re comfortable sharing!
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theswedishpajas · 1 year
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[Mii Maker Music]
!!Find the palette in this thread!!
#my art stuff#beetlejuice#cartoon#toonjuice#digital art#bugs#emoji#I made my own brush for the bugs so I can use them in the future#I’m trying to make art more enjoyable for myself and that means making it much less complicated and take less time#so I’m hoping to use this brush more in the future when drawing beej#or things in general#I’m getting better at lightning the weight I put on myself with my art#but it’s an upphills battle and I am STRUGGLING#I’ve been using this eene inker randomly for a while now and it’s making art so much easier to do for me somehow#but it looks so disgusting in my art. not cus it’s an ugly brush. I think it’s really nice-looking actually#but I have such a strong need for all my art to look clean and for every line to be intentionally put where it is#I have a tendancy to go in and fix singular pixels in EVERYTHING when I draw. even if just to make it intentionally look unintentional#but this brush does it on it’s own and I haven’t felt this relaxed while making digital art in MANY years and it’s STRESSING ME OUT#but it’s good that I can relax. That’s the goal. I want to be able to rnjoy drawing again.#The biggest hurdle is my autism hating change but once I’m past that I know I’ll be right as rain#in the meantime I hope people can still enjoy what little stuff I mannage to crank out randomly#also don’t ask me what the style is. my hand just went off with the “whatever just get it down real quick” mentality#I really need to draw the sweetheart more… I say when he is all I draw besides myself anymore-
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forbiddentaako · 2 months
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more monochrome practice I suppose
#tumblr getting this version of this drawing bc i dont want to get in trouble for drawing them nakey#so its date night vibes instead of like eden vibes#i have such complicated feelings about this ship in part bc we havent really met lilith so dont know what shes about yet#but i know in my heart there was a time they loved each other so much and so this is that#honestly would love so much to get backstory on the eden crew and the happenings there even just like a flashback in an episode or somethin#but lowkey im on the 'hoping they get divorced but deeply care about one another and are a part of each others lives' train#bc thats kind of more interesting to me than them getting back together bc i think the crux of it is how much theyve changed and a part of#their relationship getting to the point where lilith disappeared maybe being them both trying to desperately to salvage it and in doing so#making it worse bc they felt like they ruined their lives to be together and so what was the point of it all if they weren't anymore?? but#like theyre immortal so of course theyre going to change and of course theres a chance that the relationship doesnt work even if they deepl#love one another and always will and i just like the closure of that and admitting they arent right for each other in that way anymore but#they still love and care about each other and will never lose that#this is rambling and doesnt make as much sense as when i was typing it on a different post i am wondering now if theres a limit on how many#tags i can put here bc im just yapping at this point whoops#anyway i need to buck up and actually finish/post that draft i have about my very long and complicated hazbin ship opinions#lucilith#hazbin hotel#lilith morningstar#lilith hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lilith#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lilith
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Something small I made of these blorp creatures.
The first time I saw ouroboros in one of those portals or whatever they are called that they used to move around, I immediately thought of ouroboros, falling face first on someone so casually like it's normal.
Sirius and ouroboros belong to @curseofhyperfixation
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