#they have another free trial thing where its just.. you or something and you get to look at shops and dress yourself but

[circeyoru]

Darkest Confession = Requested

[Human!Alastor x Serial Killer Enthusiast!Reader]

Everyone have that one thing that really really sets them apart from the group, right? Some can be way too addicted with coffee that they don’t sleep much cause of it, or some can be so obsessed with ducks that they have a whole collection of it (ahem Lucifer ahem anyways…). Either way, usually it’s harmless

No, not you

You were no police officer or detective, or any career related to crime. You were someone simple working from place to place, always moving. Yet you found yourself engrossed with the art of killing. No, you don’t kill yourself. But you love to read about the people that do, specifically, serial killers

To just have the urge to kill and do it then deal with the consequences. It was like the most extreme of goal making. The thing with serial killers is that they mostly pick random people off the streets and kill for whatever reason they have. One can’t link the killings back to the killer because there was none! Oh, how you eat those stories up like a bedtime story

You somewhat study serial killers and their killings, feeling drawn to them enough that you’d move from place to place. It was your drive and your calling. One you keep quite deep down, you’d let this side of you out from time to time, but you had to control it since some might think you deserve the straight jacket or put in a hospital, or just label you as mental

Close friends and your family knew this side of you and said one day you’d be in deep waters for this interest of yours. They had advised you to stop and just push it away, find something else to think. Maybe a romantic partner that you can settle down with?

Hell no! (like Charlie to Val)

You follow serial killer stories from place to place. As sad that it was to know it after the killings were brought to light because of the slow news outlet, you take what you can. You’d mostly maybe catch a glimpse of the killer, behind bars or during trials

There was a few close calls. You recall yourself impersonating a reporter to interview the killer and your interest in them got them to talk, but you had to left before someone caught on you weren’t a reporter. Another time, a writer hired a helper to talk with a killer on trial, you wrote so much notes that the writer wanted you long term

Still no, you left to follow more serial killers when you could

You heard of a serial killer at large. In New Orleans, City in Louisiana. You heard it over the radio from a rising host that took over the hearts of the people, even outside of his hometown. He detailed the killings, even claiming to have seen a few of the bodies alongside the police so he could offer a clearer picture to the listeners of the horrors the killer can do and wasn’t afraid to show off

A serial killer still free and in society. While the other listeners in the cafe shivered and whispers to each other to be cautious or relief that the killer wasn’t in their town or city, you were planning your next travel

Next stop the New Orleans, hunting ground of the Bayou Serial Killer

Settling down was easy since you had been so custom to it. Like always, you wandered a bit, get the feel of the place and its people, the vibe of the city so you can fit in. Then you visited the place where the bodies were found, information provided by the local newspaper and the radio talkshows

You didn’t know then. That someone was following you after a few of your visits to the body dumping grounds. You certainly didn’t know that chance encounter with the radio host was staged

“I’d like coffee, black!” You heard the familiar voice ring. You didn’t have to look up to know the customers and staff members of the cafe all drawn to the man that ordered at the counter. You rolled your eyes. It was the famous radio host, Alastor, he started frequenting this cafe only recently (when you showed up in town) and would take his morning coffee here before he goes live

If only he was a serial killer or someone close to one… You remember the first time seeing him when he entered the cafe. You wanted to approach him, but he was always eyed by the people that put him on a pestasole. You learned to stay clear of people like that because, there were always some fans crazier than the other. Take yourself as an example, with your obsession and addiction to killers

“May I join you, my dear fellow?” Your eyes quickly scanned the place. Why was it so full today? You didn’t say anything and just gestured to the empty seat opposite to you in your booth. Great, now you had to go to work early because you wanted to avoid him. Wait

“Are you writing your script now?” You blinked at the notepad Alastor started to scribble over, you couldn’t just start by asking ‘are you writing your script on the serial killer? Can I see, please?’. Your keen eyes caught the words ‘serial killer’ and ‘bodies’

Alastor chuckled and said he was merely reorganizing his thoughts so he could envision his radio host as smoothly as possible for the listeners. You blink ‘for the listeners’, again with that. But does he really put others first behind himself? Somehow you didn’t think so

Of course his notes got you to put your attention on him. Alastor had to internally grin. He noticed a new face in town after some time. Then he noticed you going to his dumping grounds. He had thought you were a new detective or police to hunt him down by looking over new evidence. He thought he was right when he saw you noting down the surroundings even with the absence of the body

You were followed carefully to check if you had family and/or friends that would make a fuss of your disappearance. When you had none, he thought you were an easy target. But you weren’t a detective nor a police. Imagine his surprise when he only found you returning home. Never once had you went to the police with that notepad of yours

Odd

So he followed some more. It then that he noticed you had a spark in your eyes whenever serial killers or their killings were mentioned. While other would shiver with the sight of fear in their eyes, you had interest and excitement. So odd, but he didn’t dislike it. It fueled his interest in you

He tried striking conversations with you, but you were so plain and common, one he can brush off as a local polite individual. You fitted in with the commonality that quickly and easily. Though his concern was your disinterest and ignorance to him, he once let his assistant to play a pre-recorded show to see your reactions to his killings reported

There it was. You and that spark of yours with that notepad and pen, writing so furiously like you were possessed. You were more expressive and childish even, swaying from side to side, tapping your feet, drumming your fingers. It was like he witnessed your true self. He confirmed it when the topic changed and like a switch, you were that mundane self of yours

It was all so fasincinating to him and he had to talk to the real you. So he staged this meeting. He was right on the money, you would start off with someone common, then poke at your interest, wanting him to start the topic so you’d be involved. Slowly and with time though, you’d just talk outright with him

It was routine for him, meeting you before his show at that cafe and in their secluded booth you basically marked your own when it was in the morning. He’s review his notes with you and then talk about the (his) killings with you, the newest discoveries, the clues that detectives and polices missed, all that juicy details you’d like

Another problem came. You saw him as a friend. He saw you as a romantic interest

To you, it was rare that you could connect this much with someone. No one back home, not even your closest family members and frends, would indulge with you in this interest of yours. No matter how much you spoke your thoughts on serial killers and their killings, Alastor didn’t push you away and even ask questions on your thoughts. You cared so much for him, as a friend, but he wasn’t your interest

To him, you were now one of his reason to kill more. That bloodlust was on par with the spark you’d have in your eyes when he struck again. Some poor victim died and you only focused on him, the killer! He once compared you to his friend Mimzy, she knew and helped his killings, but she didn’t give him the same joy and bubbly emotions he’d have when talking to you about his kills. It wasn’t the same. So were you the one? The one to his cold dark heart.

And he confessed. More than just his feelings

“My dearest darling, I would be so honoured if you’d agree to allow me the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to officially court you.”

“No.” There was no hesitation in your voice, nor was there a pause. “Sorry, Alastor, I just considered myself married to serial killers. Or at least, this one in your town. I love them no matter what. So I can’t accept your feelings. But I hope we can continue being fr—”

Alastor held onto you, it was just a stroke of luck that this place was the secluded forest he was familiar with. He kneeled down on one knee and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring straight at you with that crazed look in his eyes and that murderous grin he only let his victims see, “Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Alastor, the Bayou Serial Killer.”

Note: I had SO MUCH FUN writing for this. Thank you for suggesting this, Any~ (I’ll just call all the anonymous asks this from now on). I would tag the person but this is anonymous request (╯︿╰)

Requests are open, but keep in mind of what I wrote in the Masterlist. I’ll ultimately decide whether or not to write for them. Thanks!

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: Random Messages You May Need 🌈🎆⛅

Sup, y'all. I'm finally back for another pick a card reading. I really apologize if folks have not heard from me over the past month, I meant to get this reading (among other things) out a while ago. I have not been able to touch tarot for the past few weeks. Life has been… topsy turvy, to say the least. Heh heh. [sweating profusely]

I meant to have another game out and to have paid readings available by now--that is still part of the plan. What was meant for June will be in July. So this blog might go from 0 to 100 mph real soon, to move along with plans as intended!

I was loosely inspired by the Baker pride flag from 1978 for this group selection. These piles are pretty nondescript: each one contains a random message that may resonate with you. Pick based on whichever color of the Prism Oracle speaks to you most, and feel free to choose more than one. Take only what resonates.

Pile 1 - Strength (Red) Pile 2 - Happiness (Orange) Pile 3 - Illumination (Yellow) Pile 4 - Movement (Green) Pile 5 - Flow (Turquoise) Pile 6 - Trust (Blue) Pile 7 - Intuition (Violet) Pile 8 - Love (Pink)

Pile 1 - Strength (Red)

10 of Swords, Insight

You've been asked by the universe to put up with a lot, especially recently. You're reaching a finish line of a very long and brutal marathon. There have been too many times where you questioned whether or not to throw in the towel. If you have, you may also have questioned whether or not it was the correct choice. Sometimes, things don't work out, and it's better to move on. It can be difficult to hold everything up when one thing after another seems to fall apart at the seams, but either way you're being reminded of the light at the end of this long and turbulent tunnel.

Collect yourself, pick up what pieces you can. Time has shifted everything, but the essentials still stand. Gather the wisdom you have learned from this ordeal. There is still beauty to be found in the decay, glittering gems in the rough.

Maybe you don't want to get stronger. Healing may feel like a better option than grinding for difficult experience points. Give yourself the rest and repair you need. Let go of only that which is keeping you from starting again, but you don't need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. You've gained so much wisdom and strength, this trial wasn't without gain. Treasure it and begin anew.

Pile 2 - Happiness (Orange)

2 of Swords, Clarity

Whatever answers you seek are coming to you. Or perhaps they've already arrived; open your eyes and see for yourself. You may be wondering which path will satisfy you more. The process of reconciling this could take forever unless you lean on your gut here. This can't be decided based on intellect alone, for you could get stuck mulling it over for days. Imagining all the different possible outcomes could be taxing for your brain, so narrow it down. Eliminate the weakest links and home in on what excites you. It should feel like an "aha, yes!"

If you cannot see the answer right away, go within to the realm of imagination. Feel your way through. Visualize not just with sight but with yearning. Does the light of the sun make you feel hopeful? Does the cool rain make you feel relaxed? Would an art class expand your capacity to imagine many things, or would taking a science class?

The X mark in 2 of Swords is like a railroad crossing sign. Redirect that train of thought into brighter and more positive avenues of expression. Say "what if" as if you can't wait for something to happen. "What if I saw a shooting star tonight? What if my cute neighbor asked me out?" Let the future shine its beacon for you. It will all make sense in due time.

Pile 3 - Illumination (Yellow)

Ace of Cups, Reconciliation

Have you been staying up way too late trying to figure everything out? Please give yourself a brain curfew: no problem solving or saving the day after 10 pm! I'm getting that you may tend to ruminate on the same strong emotions. For some I'm getting that there is a crush here. There's inconsistent text messaging. I know it's easy to get too nervous about their reply, but try to wait until at least the next day to hear back. They may need time to formulate their words right. They may not even see your message straight away. Take it all in stride and sleep on it; if they want to reach out to you, then they eventually will.

For others in this pile, you may be going through a rough patch with another person right now and could be wondering how things will pan out. Give them time to respond, they could still be processing it. Stay on the more positive end of things with the idea that things will work themselves out. I feel like if you can manage this in a relaxed and non hurried way, the knot will untangle easily. The coffee in the Ace of Cups is very hot, so give it a chance to cool.

There is opportunity in your near future to make up for something that went awry due to a miscommunication error. You may get a chance to make up for a test, appointment, or an interview. You will receive grace for any mishaps. Remember that tomorrow won't necessarily be the same as today, so cherish both the good you have now along with the good that soon awaits you.

Pile 4 - Movement (Green)

IX Hermit, Devotion

Looks like things are progressing faster than you even thought they would. You may be blinking your eyes in partial disbelief: could this ball really be rolling? Indeed, thanks to your efforts, goals are being met and results are more evident by the day. You eschewed a lot of distractions to make this work, so give yourself a pat on the back for the level of commitment you put into it. Some of you in this pile may have just graduated, if so then congratulations! But try not to get too comfortable with your laurels, for you have a long road ahead of you in whatever you do next. This one completion is the start of many.

Does that thrill you? If so, wonderful! On the other hand, some of you may be feeling uncertain about continuing. You may be reviewing your options to see if this really is worth pursuing. Something that requires a lot of dedication and focus on it to the exclusion of all else… yeah, I can see how that can get tiring after a long time. There are folks who can get their Master's right after their Bachelor's, or have another child right after the first, but people can also happily move on to what feels more right for them instead.

It's okay to stop and assess your tracks if necessary. Taking time off is not the same as quitting. It's not losing motivation, it's recovering it. This is your passion and your discipline, not anyone else's. If you need to give other parts of your life more room to breathe, then do so with the confidence that your great work will wait for you.

Pile 5 - Flow (Turquoise)

4 of Wands, Hospitality

Have you been stuck with something for a while? There's a strong sense of a blockage that is being eroded away over time. This process can be sped up by allowing the ice to thaw a little more. "Break the ice." You may be wanting to open up and spend more quality time with other people but don't know how. Or you could be faced with meeting new people and being nervous about interacting with them. Even more so if they're roommates. A few people in this pile could be moving or have just moved. This is a chance to ease up and get to know new people.

This blockage could be a result of the past and of anxiety. The sound of a turning doorknob just jumpscared me as I typed the last sentence. You may benefit from learning about social anxiety and how to manage it. It's not an overnight job for you to fix this, though, but to just be aware of it and not allow it to get in the way of positive change in your life.

If you're struggling to figure out how to deal with meeting new people, I would suggest looking up videos or how-tos on social interaction, especially if a certain etiquette is required for an event. Learn about conversation starters and fun things you could do together like hosting a game night. Practice makes perfect, and over time the blockage will melt into the stream.

Pile 6 - Trust (Blue)

3 of Swords, Conversion

You have a very soft and tender outlook on life, which makes it all the more painful when reality doesn't conform to such a compassionate vision. It doesn't always try to respond to vulnerability in appropriate ways. Much of the time, this isn't from natural events as much as it stems from the ways in which people can treat one another cruelly. You've had some toxic people in your life who have put you through the wringer and attempted to squeeze every ounce of kindness they could from you. Making light of this pain to them only resulted in further deflection and antagonism on their part. The only outcome was to salvage whatever you could and pray for the best.

It is not your job to change their closed minded perspectives. They're on their own, here. Do not concern yourself with their messy inner world and lose any more of your energy. Also, do not attempt to regain what energy has been lost through bargaining either, as much as it hurts to press onward without looking back. You will recover, but you have to move on first and prioritize what you deeply care about most (you included).

There will come a time when your heart will be healed so you can see the brighter side of human connection again. All the beauty that your gentle soul is seeking is still there, shrouded by layers of protective petals that will one day bloom again and your life will truly flourish. For now, this is a time to give yourself all the comfort you can.

Pile 7 - Intuition (Violet)

XII Hanged Man, Spring

I get the feeling that you've been waiting quite a while for some good results to come in. This could either be from something that you started back in the spring, or are waiting to see results which may come around springtime. It is a season of flowers, so you may be waiting for this thing to blossom--that is, to be fully presentable to the public in some way. To have something to show for the time you put in. Like "hey, this is what I've been working on, this came from the seeds I planted." It could be growing in a direction unlike what you're used to, leaving you wondering how it could succeed in such unusual and burdensome conditions.

Lean on your inner guidance when it comes to the right timing. I don't believe that you're currently in a space where you need to push so hard for the best results. You can let things move at their own pace. Over tending to anything can end up in just as much trouble as neglect. There's only so much you can do before you have to let the flower do the growing and blooming for itself.

It's not always easy to sit in the place of uncertainty with the idea that doing more will provide more. But sometimes less is more. What you're creating is coming to fruition and may even turn out better than you expected. Trust in both the knowledge you've earned over time from learning lessons, as well as your natural intuition, to help you decide when it's time to take action.

Pile 8 - Love (Pink)

7 of Swords, Gossip

Let your heart lead the way here, not your worries over what others will think. Sure, you may end up with some people talking about you, but opportunities will keep passing by if you wait for everyone else to catch up to you. Leaning too much on everyone else's perspectives will only distort the vision you have for your own life journey. We all have unique journeys to go on, but unconditional kindness remains at the center of the Love card, the one thing that brings us together. Following life from a heart centered place may result in having others glance over and whisper, but that shouldn't distract you.

There is a rather delicate message here about dealing with friendships, colleagues, or possibly even family. You may have a tricky situation between several other people right now who have beef not with you but with each other. They may be coming to you to air their grievances and ask for advice.

If you care about both of these people, then it's best to approach this issue as diplomatically and impartially as possible and avoid feeding into the conflict. What would an enlightened mindset do in this situation? How would you want the other person to behave if they were in your shoes? Come from a place of pure compassion. They may choose to make amends or not, it's up to them. If their butting heads is bringing you down, it's always okay to step back and take a break. You are not responsible for what's going on in their heart, only your own, so protect yours well.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Salutations! Might be a… oddly specific request? So feel free to throw it out if you don't like it! I've just had this idea floating in my brain for awhile and I think its cute.

So basically Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) makes friends with someone who is also really grief stricken over their last relationship. (I was thinking that they would be a widow/widower but you can go whatever route you want) They both find solace in one another and feel like they understand eachothers pain. They both get really close and before he can realize whats happening, Lucifer is head over heels and it hits him like a freight train when he realizes it. He wants so desperately to hold this person to his chest, protect them, and build a future together that neither of them had thought possible before; but he is also terrified of scaring them off if he does anything. Both of them are wounded, and Lucifer isnt sure how deep or raw those wounds are. So Lucifer just ends up turning into a puddle of a man when they are around.

Like I said, Ive just had this rotting in my head for awhile and I am not nearly skilled enough to do anything with it, sooooo have fun with it if it peaks your interest! <3

Broken Hearts Still Beat Again

Hazbin Hotel Lucifer x Reader

"I may not be your first love, kiss, or date..... but damn baby, I want to be your last everything." -Unknown

Tw: Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Failed relationships, fear of abandonment, learning to love again, taking risks, slight spiciness at the end

~Prior to the beginnings of the Extermination~

You can't remember how long it's been since it happened. Years, months, and days are far too long, honestly. All you could remember was his face, his sad, sad, lonesome face, and the grinning menace Adam beside him. Yes, that's right, Adam, the first Winner. You, too, were a Winner till all that time ago. How long?

Your husband, best friend, and closest confidant was also a Winner. You were Winners together. You two died in your sleep peacefully due to a shared illness. It was sweet, almost too romantic like St. Peter said when you two crossed the gates. 

Then it happened; you don't know why Adam sank his teeth into you. Yes, you were an incredible fighter in the mortal world, teaching children how to fight for their safety and never to provoke. So when he came to you and invited you to the exorcist guild, well, you were happy to train young fighters to protect themselves. Your partner was even happier to watch you flourish in Heaven as much as you did in your mortal life. 

Then you overheard Lute talking to an exorcist one day. You heard about the extermination of the poor souls, the damned being killed again and again. This news broke you. Who would remotely allow this? Who would stoop so low?

You called an impromptu meeting with Sara and Adam to inform them of this horrible act Lute was performing. The tyranny she was showing against the other angels to go down to Lucifer's territory and kill again.

Only things didn't go as planned, no see you did go to the meeting; you spoke your peace, and then they just smiled at you, eery creepy smiles, sent you on your way, and told you it would be handled. It was all quite odd; there was no demand for a trial, no need for proof of your words, nothing.

When you returned to your home where your husband was, it happened all too fast. Exorcists were grabbing you; Adam was telling your husband something; his face dropped, and he looked at you with hate. You were shouting, begging, pleading for anyone to listen to you. No one would, and you were flagged as a traitor right then and there.

You were taken to a ledge, and standing there, you looked into your husband's eyes, tears staining your face, your throat raw from screaming. You could feel the saliva strands between your parted lips as you whimpered and cried. You freed your arm from one of the exorcists and reached out to your husband; it was too late as he turned from you.

He spared one last look at you, turning back with tears in his eyes. You called out his name once again, and Sara spoke her orders of your treason against the balance of good and evil. Then, you were pushed off the ledge. 

You began to fall from heaven, assuming a more permanent death would be treating you soon. You closed your eyes; you didn't want your last memories to be death or Adam or any of what just happened.

You thought of your lover when you two were young and carefree the day he told you he loved you. As you felt the rushing of wind and air surrounding you, this thought alone was your solace, and then it all went black.....

~~~~ Lucifer's Pov ~~~~

The day that Lilith left was a cold, cold day in hell. Well, not for everyone, but definitely me.

The woman I gave everything up for was gone in an instant. Without a word. Without a trace. My relationship with Charlie was far more strained and hindered now. I was nothing now. A kingdom all to my own and nothing of value now that the two women I loved the most were gone. What was I to do in this lone castle whither away? 

I turned to the picture of Lilith and Charlie, and tears formed in my eyes. It all felt too surreal to much. She was gone, my family gone, my life gone, all gone gone gone. As I sat there and cried, fists beating into the floor below, my wails echoing through the halls of my now abandoned residence, I felt so empty.

That's when an imp came in, holding a letter from the angels above. It was time to sign our agreement on the executions. Maybe that's why Lilith left; I was so willing to save our family that I gave up on our dreams for hell. 

I should have spoken to her and let her decide, but they threatened Charlie, so I had to act. I had to save my precious daughter, my pride and joy. That's also why I had to tell Charlie that her plan to 'save all sinners' needed to end. I remember it like yesterday, sitting at the table with them, breaking the news of the agreement I would sign soon. They looked so hurt, so betrayed.

I honestly was a failure. 

I stood, heading to the bathroom to clean up before my meeting. Soon after my name is signed on the soul pact, the first and only angelic building will grace hell, and the clock will start counting down. I was prepared for my subjects to hate me, but my family, it was all too much.

There was nothing to lose now, though, so hell with it. I made my way to the opening portal to heaven. It's now or never. I will sign this and keep the ones I love safe, even if they never know.

I love you, Lilith, I love you, Charlie. 

~~~~ Reader POV ~~~~

When you woke back up under a dark red sky, you figured you had to have fainted while falling to your death. Yet when you looked down at yourself, you were the same old you. The only notable difference was that your skin was no longer pure white. You had greyed out some, and your clothing was torn from your fall. Looking around, you saw a giant pentagram in the sky and a large white orb to the right. Was that heaven?

Standing on your legs again, your back was killing you. You began to walk anywhere; people here were very different from the Winners. Death, porn, canabalizim, all of it fully welcomed. This would take some getting used to. 

As you crossed the threshold of the city, now standing in the middle, you heard a horrible noise. It sounded like a bell, but it was so loud. You turned to your left, where the noise was coming from, and there was a clock and some numbers; just above the numbers, it read 'days till execution.' that's when you realized it.

A building, the only building that looked like what you are familiar with in heaven. You were shocked it wasn't Lute causing tyranny. It was all of them, every single one of them, in charge. 

You sank to your knees, realizing you would never be safe. You signed your sentence when you went to them with the information you learned. You were no longer a Winner...You were a Sinner, and your days were numbered.

You had something over everyone else; you knew how the angels fought and trained them daily. Using this knowledge to your advantage, you went through the town, trying to find anywhere you could start your new life. 

~~~ FLASH FORWARD 7 YEARS ~~~

You were lucky when you ran into Charlie. She was a godsend if god was even real. The Princess of Hell had the same morals and values as you, which you respected. Vaggie was also a pleasant surprise; you could tell a soldier you taught a mile away.

She remembered you as well. She kept to herself till you three made it to a safe place, Charleis's soon-to-be hotel. Once Charlie was out of earshot and working on getting supplies to heal everyone, she confronted you. 

Tears welled in her eyes when she asked what had happened. She was in shock when you explained how you ended up here. According to Vaggie, everyone was told that you died on a mission to hell.

The Sinners alerted Lucifer of your whereabouts, and he killed you; thus, in doing so, a protective force of angels was created. Fearmongering was the one thing Adam was damn good at. 

It was broken to you by Vaggie that your partner had moved on with another. He was in love and happy with another woman, one Adam hand-picked for him. You were devastated again; years of promises, lost nights, and romantic meetings disappeared. He gave up everything because Adam told him to.

You two agreed that your past lives in Heaven would no longer be discussed that night.

Crying your eyes out long after Vaggie returned to her shared room with Charlie, did you swear off love by taking your wedding band off and locking it in a drawer.

It was no longer a hidden fact that Lucifer had signed the deal with the Angels, and it was far less hidden knowledge that the relationship between King and Princess was strained.

The rag-tag group of residents was growing by the day. Angel Dust was fun, and you could quickly tell from how he talked and looked he wanted a way out. Soon after Charlie's broadcast, Alastor and his group, Husk and Nifty, joined the hotel's crew. Though the Radio Demon was creepy, you knew something was eating him deep inside. Nifty was a riot to get talking to and always brought you exciting things she found while cleaning. Husk was a perfect bartender, and you knew he would keep your dirty secrets for you. He was the only one you confided your past in. 

You supported Charlie wholeheartedly in her decision to overrule the exterminations. You were eager to help her prove that sinners could become winners. Look at you, for heaven's sake; if it could go one way, it had to go the other.

Sir Pentious was the last to join and was easy to talk to. He was awkward, but you loved his fabricated war stories and eggbois. Then, one day, he came along; you won't lie.

You were hesitant. I mean, he signed away Hell's right to life. You couldn't deny it, though; he was funny and ethereal. You swore off love, though, and you wouldn't let another break your heart again.

~~~~ Lucifer's POV ~~~~

When I got Charlie's call, I didn’t know what emotions to feel: sorrow, excitement, fear, jubilation. I was beyond myself, and as I finally answered the phone, all I could muster was, “Hey, Biiiiitch.”

Yeah, it was smooth of me to say that; however, it didn’t deter Charlie. She wanted me to come and visit her. I was over the moon; depression had nothing on me.

I looked at my hand as I was cleaning myself up and getting ready to go. Looking down and seeing that cursed band I once shared with the love of my life.

I found Lilith's ring left on her nightstand just days after her departure to who knows where. I couldn’t bring myself to take the ring off; it's all I had left of her; it reminds me to keep hoping she would forgive me; maybe I'll forgive myself. 

As I made my way to Charlie's hotel, thoughts pressed into my mind about how I wanted this reunion to go. It never occurred to me how much Charlie may have changed. Was she still the same woman I knew before we fought?

Sighing as I approached the door, I realized it was now or never. Let's do this, baby. What's the worst that could happen? She hates me and leaves me forever like her mother did, and now I am forever alone? Hahahahah NO!

I entered the hotel door, and jeez, what is this place?

Putting a smile on my face, I approached Charlie and hugged her, introducing myself to her girlfriend. Woah, I like girls, too. See, we can bond. As I was making my rounds with Charlie, meeting everyone, I saw her….She was….gorgeous. I could tell from her looks that she wasn’t an everyday Sinner, and something was different about her. 

After a brief and, might I say, victorious battle with this ‘Alastor’ fellow, I spent some time with my daughter, allowing her to show me around her hotel. As we stood atop the balcony, I made the first fatal error of the night. “So, CharChar, what is this all about?” 

Charlie rolled her eyes at me and excitedly smiled, “It’s a hotel to cleanse and rehabilitate Sinners! I told you this, Dad!” The excitement on her face was genuinely adorable, but she couldn’t do it. I couldn’t allow this. The elder angels would just hurt her like they did me. They already threatened my family once; I can’t let them do this again.

I knew by the look on Charlie's face that my reaction wasn’t what she was expecting. As I went to speak to her, a loud explosion was heard downstairs. 

We rushed down, and I saw an opportunity to prove to Charlie why we couldn’t follow this plan. As I ran forward to catch up with the others, I saw the mystery woman again. She was fighting alongside Alastor and his demons perfectly; she was beautiful and brilliant in battle, always expecting the next attack.

Once the sharks were dealt with and the young lady who seemed to know Alastor left, I turned back to Charlie and attempted to plead my case. “See Charlie, look, they are all the same; Sinners will never be redeemed; they will never go to heaven.” 

“You don’t know that, Dad, please.” The look on Charlie's face broke me, but this had to be done. I couldn’t let her get hurt. 

“What makes you so sure, Mr. King of Hell, that these people here can’t be redeemed?” This voice was new and soft.

I turned to the mystery girl. Her eyes were lit with a flame. I could see how much passion she had for my daughter's cause. As I went to speak back, Charlie interjected. 

“Father, I only want to do this for you, for my people. Your dreams are what gave me this goal.” I was taken aback. I was Charlie's prime motivation; my stories and goals helped her become this remarkable woman. 

“Your daughter is twice the ruler of you; she's willing to save her people; what are you willing to do?” The mystery woman had a point. I was a coward, too prideful of what I had to allow it to fall potentially. I looked at Charlie, and a moment formed between us. 

“Alright, let’s get Heaven on the line then.” I knew it was time to face my fear to help the people I pleaded for all those years ago. I may not be able to stand my ground due to the contract, but damn can my daughter and her friends do it. 

While Charlie started getting ready for her meeting, I was a nervous wreck. What if something happened to her? I knew the cruel hands that played in heaven and what could be done.

As I was pacing back and forth in the lobby, a figure stood before me, a drink in hand, and the other extended a glass to me. I looked up, and it was her; she was still just as beautiful as the first time I saw her. I gently took the glass and downed the concoction in it. “Thank you, uh, my name is Lucifer Morningstar, affamed fallen angel and father of Charlie.” 

“I know; I was here when everything went down.” She looked at me blankly. Of course, she was here. Jesus, could I be any lamer?

She snorted at my facial expression and stuck her hand out for me. “My name is Y/N; nice meeting you, Mr. King of Hell; it’s a pleasure. By the way, I only said all that because I knew it would strike a nerve in you. I learned from my past anyone prideful hates when their authority is challenged.” 

In her past, odd, there weren’t a lot of demons here who A would let someone challenge their authority and live, so she must be powerful, or B, she is speaking of her mortal life. However, something about both of those options did not seem quite right.

I nodded gently at her and sat at the bar. She soon tended to the others in the hotel, and I began to observe her. She acted like a mother, telling the others what to and not to do double-checking the other inhabitants of the hotel before they left the building.

Hell, she even talked to Alastor on some sort of equal ground. Something was different about her, so so different. I looked at my hand again while I took another swig of my refilled glass. Setting the glass down, I started to twirl the ring. Would Lilith have been this good to everyone? Would Lilith have even cared? 

I sighed; if I wanted to help Charlie, I had to let go of the past. I took the ring off, dropped it in the liquor, and went to the front door. As I reached for the handle, I was stopped by a soft hand on my wrist.

Turning, I saw Y/N, “Hey, one second, mister, you forgot this.” She placed the ring down in the palm of my hand. “I have been scorned by love too. Don’t get me wrong, I also took off my band long ago. However, I can say that though their memory is tainted now, you should enjoy the memories of good when you can. Helps keep the bad thoughts away.” She smiled up at me so brightly I couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it. Do say you seem like a swell mother figure to all these people here. Why tie yourself to this place if you don’t want redemption? I remember what you said earlier, ‘All these people’, excluding yourself.” She stalled, hesitating about how she wanted to answer.

I just shook my head and smiled at her. I began to walk away back to my home. As I made my way back I heard Y/N shout, “COME BACK SOON LUCIFER!” For some reason, I really liked how my name sounded from her. 

~~~~~ Reader POV ~~~~~

You were sat at the hotel by yourself, Angel, and the others all went to a club while Charlie and Vaggie went to Heaven. You had time to think about the most recent occurrence in your life: Lucifer.

It was a whirlwind that day meeting him. So many emotions overtook you: fear, anger, an odd sense of curiosity. You couldn’t lie. He was attractive, and the way he was protective of Charlie was adorable. You never got to have children; your ex-husband never wanted them.

You don’t know what possessed you to speak to Lucifer like you did, telling him he was a lowly king. You used the excuse that you had done it to others in your past, which was valid; you and Adam argued a lot. Deep down, you knew, though, that's not why you did it. You wanted to protect Charlie and her dream. 

Sighing, you made your way around the building, ensuring the halls were clean and everything was orderly. You still weren't fond of all the allowed things here in hell, so going out with everyone was a once-in-a-blue moon.

It struck you as amusing when Lucifer commented on you being a mother figure because that is how everyone saw you. Hell, even Alastor commented one or two times that you reminded him of his angel of a mother. You just wanted the best for everyone; it wasn’t fair to die and then be killed again. 

You heard the lobby door open once you were done doing your rounds. Odd, typically, everyone stayed out way late, and the girls weren't expected back till tomorrow.

As you descended the stairs, you saw none other but the man plaguing your mind: Lucifer. Smiling softly, you met him at the base of the stairs, giving him a short wave. He smiled at you and announced that he figured everyone would be gone today and was going to help out Charlie. You snorted at him and explained how you stayed back to help but were more than pleased to allow him to keep you company. He took refuge at the bar, and you soon joined him.

You two talked for hours about so many things, from his life as an angel to your old mortal life. You guys even talked about the differences between Heaven and Hell. Hopefully, you weren't giving your old station away to him, but a part of you didn’t care.

By the time you two got to the dreaded conversation about relationships, you were inebriated. You recounted your betrayal to Lucifer, holding nothing back. From your teenage years with your ex till the day he turned from you while Adam pushed you. Lucifer looked so heartbroken for you.

He gently pushed some hair out of your face when he said, “I am so sorry that happened to you, Y/N. I knew something was different about you, so you too fell from that dreaded cliff like I.” You nodded sadly. 

Lucfier explained why he made his decisions and how Charlie's life was threatened if he didn’t end Lilith’s music and allow the Exorcist to come down. He told you something interesting about the clause of the agreement: No Hell Born Could Be Harmed In The Extermination Less The Binding Be Null And Void.

This was amusing to you; even after singing his people away for slaughter, he was still concerned the angels would trick him and harm his child. He was always thinking about those he loved. It was endearing.

How could someone leave such a handsome, kind, protective man? The thought even crossed your mind that Lucifer would have fallen with you if he had been your husband instead of letting Adam take the lead.

As these thoughts crossed your mind, you didn’t realize how close your two faces were getting. Before you knew it, your lips were touching Lucifers gently. Seconds passed, and his hands were buried in your hair, kissing you with a passion you never got from your ex. 

As you two broke apart, the doors to the hotel opened again. Angel came running over to you, noticing your state of drunkenness. He apologized to Lucifer, stating you never really drank much and took you to your room.

You smiled softly as Lucifer said a quick ‘goodbye’ and ‘good night’ to you before drifting off to sleep. Your dreams that night were full of Lucifer, his beauty, charisma, and devotion eating you alive. You may have sworn off love, but for him to love you how he once loved Lilith would be beautiful. 

~~~~~ TIME SKIP ~~~~~

Months had passed since your night with Lucifer, and a whole war between you at the hotel and the angels broke out. Everyone learned of your past in Heaven from Adam before he perished.

You felt free, no longer chained to the past that harmed you. Now you had something more to look forward to. Though you and Lucifer never spoke of that night again, you held the memory close. He loved Lilith a lot, and especially Charlie; for all you knew, when he kissed you that night, he was just imagining Lilith once more. It hurts to think that, but you must be true to yourself. 

After Adam's carnage, it was awkward for you and Lucifer. You two avoided eye contact and only spoke when you had to. However, as time passed and you both pretended the night alone never happened, things changed.

You and Lucifer did become fast friends, though. Having shared a fall from heaven, deep heart break, and even more so a hotel together it was hard not too. It was hard ever to see you two separated from one another. Laughing, joking, talking, and even debating over effective ways to pull in more Sinners.

You two became more affectionate as well, his hand on the small of your back, him guiding you by his arm, or even you adjusting his cravat and making him his favorite teas. To onlookers, it seemed like you two were married. 

It was so compelling that you two were married that even Charlie told you she would be fine if you loved her dad.

Love…That's such a strong word. Is that what you felt? You can’t lie. You fantasize about it. You were scared, though. What if he let you down like your ex did? Can you handle being a mom to Charlie, not just a figure, a real mom taking the spot Lilith left? That was a worry, too; what about Lilith if she returned? Would he go back to her?

Would you be left so suddenly again? 

While your mind raced, you mindlessly swept the corner of your room, thinking deeply about this debacle. When suddenly, your door bursts open. 

~~~~~ Lucifer’s POV ~~~~~

I was ecstatic after my night with Y/N. She was excellent, calm, cunning, and articulate. She also knew my pain of the angels turning on you. The kiss meant so much to me. I was finally feeling things I hadn’t felt before Lilith left.

Lilith….was I ready to move on? Could I move on?

When I closed my eyes that night, I saw both old memories of Lilith and the times we had, but also new visions of Y/N and all we could be. She was terrific; if only I could get to know her more and see how she felt. She also stated she swore off love, too.

Would I be included? 

When the day came for the extermination, I couldn’t bear to turn on the news; I didn’t want to see Charlie's dreams get crushed. I sat and waited, staring at the clock. As soon as the chaos broke out, I was up and pacing.

It wasn’t just Charlie; I was worried about Y/N being there too. Yes, she was a fighter and trained those Angels, but what if the worst happened? What if you died protecting Charlie?

That's one thing he loved: how motherly you were for his daughter. Not that Lilith never was, but it was clear to him that no matter how hard life got, you would stand by those you loved side.

Why couldn’t Lilith have done that for them? 

That was when I felt the tug, a complex, sudden pull. Half of the signed agreement shriveled; that only meant one thing.

I ran as fast as I could to the hotel; once I saw the carnage, I flew to protect Charlie. It was Adam, the man who turned the heavens against me, who turned heaven against you. Years of pent-up rage and a new passion for protecting Y/N overtook me as Charlie and I took down the angels.

Once the battle felt calm, everyone began looking for you and Alastor. Honestly, I could care less about the Radio Demon. He gave me bad vibes, but you were missing. You went in to save Vaggie from Lute; however, no one saw you anywhere when the building collapsed. 

Shouting, digging through rubble, I heard Charlie yell out that she had found you. Sighing now that I knew you were alive and only minorly injured, we cleaned up.

With a bit of magic and a whap bam boom, we had a new Hazbin Hotel, oh and Alastor returned. I wanted to discuss your past with you about a potential us, but I couldn’t. You looked so happy now that the chains of your past were broken. 

The next couple of months were odd, for sure. I couldn't stand to look Y/N in the eyes, and though I yearned for her, I couldn't bear the weight of rejection again.

I tried, though, to show her how much I wanted her in subtle ways. What was a once-stolen night became a close friendship. I could tell her anything and everything. She was like a breath of fresh air; she never denied any of the ideas Charlie or I had, instead helping make them better. With her and I’s past with heaven, we knew how to overcome the obstacles they would throw. 

Before I knew it, I craved her touch and comfort, and she gave it to me. Small lingering touches of hands, hugs that lasted too long, small gifts and favors never asked for. I was falling and falling hard. She was everything I could want. I loved Y/N.

Oh god, I loved Y/N. I was a wreck seeking counsel from the only other person who knew me best, Charlie. She was so happy, begging me to confess and tell Y/N how I felt. Could I, though? Would she accept me? Could she take the new title of Queen of Hell? 

As I lay in bed pondering the conversation Charlie and I had, thinking of the new memories I had made with Y/N, I was stuck. Confess and have a happy new life, or confess, and she leaves me, too. You weren't one to go, though I knew that. What if, though, you weren't ready?

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander; I saw Y/N in a beautiful dress at our wedding, Y/N giving me another child, and Y/N fighting alongside Charlie and me. That’s it; I can’t hold back any longer.

I dressed myself in my robe and marched my way to your door. I began to knock, but I heard nothing in the room. Sighing because I knew Y/N had to be in here, I busted the door open, and there you were, staring off into space so cutely.

Shit.

~~~~~ Readers POV ~~~~~

The noise startled you from your thoughts. There before you stood Lucifer in his robes. Smirking, You turned away from the man and laughed gently into your hand. “What are you doing here, goober? It's the middle of the night, and you are very underdressed.”

No questions were answered, though, as Lucifer approached you; he stood there staring you in the eyes. You didn’t know what this look meant, but it was intense. Had you offended him? 

As you went to speak again, Lucifer placed one of his hands on your cheek, cupping your face. You looked at his hand and back up at him; you were breathing too fast. As you two looked at one another, no words were uttered; slowly, Lucifer placed his other hand on your waist.

You laid claim to his chest with your hands gently splayed there. Something in his eyes begged you to be closer and not push him away. How could you? He was holding you in a way that you had only dreamed of. 

Lucfier moved closer to your face, your lips mere inches apart when he spoke, “Y/N, I love you. No, that doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. I am fascinated, lust-filled, and desire you and you alone. I want forever to be with you, a time I only thought possible with one person who never intended to fill that role. A forever purely our own with our family. A future dedicated to following dreams and passion. Following our love. Will you stay with me, Y/N? Please stay with me.” 

You were speechless, your mouth slightly agape, and you didn’t know how to process such emotions. You were overwhelmed and so excited. You knew if you took any longer to confirm or deny him he would leave and never speak of this, just like the kiss before.

You did the only thing you thought you could at that moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the gap. Kissing Lucifer this time felt just as good, if not better, than the last. Your hands tied in his hair, holding him close. His hands are keeping you in place, his kiss fierce and dominating. Before you knew it, he had his hands just under the cusp of your ass, prompting you to jump. As you did, you never broke the kiss. 

Lucifer leads you to the nearest wall, kissing your lips and neck. This was everything you dreamed of, everything you wanted. Each kiss was a contract that you two would never hurt the other as your partners did.

You felt alive, like electricity was coursing through your veins. Every kiss made a new pattern in your heart, soon beating in time with Lucifers. The heated kisses died down and turned into soft, light ones. Placing your feet back on the ground, you hugged Lucifer close, his head buried in your neck and yours in his. 

You smiled a large smile before whispering, “I will always stay by your side, Lucifer. You and Charlie are my reason, my purpose now.” You could feel his smile next to your ear without ever having to open his mouth.

You were so happy.

You two heard a shutter sound as you pulled away, and a bright flash erupted behind Lucifer. As you turned to the door, everyone stood there: Charlie was happy and clapping, Vaggie was giving a thumbs up, Alastor was holding the camera, Nifty was making gagging sounds, and Angel was smirking. You laughed wholeheartedly; who knew a broken heart would beat again?

My good friend @willowaudreykeyes helped me with the editing a bit! I appreciate the effort and time they put into assisting me. Even though we live halfway across the world from one another, you have my back!

[supernaturalscribe67]

Unwarranted

Words: 4,983

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Team Free Will x Male!ExAngel!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Mention of past sexual harassment, sexual harassment, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Humans are interesting and complex creatures, and ever since the reader lost his grace, he had to learn to become one. Luckily, he had his friends by his side to help him through his trials and tribulations. What happens when he's face-to-face with a human experience he never anticipated, and how will Team Free Will help him resolve his issue?

Request:

Hi! I hope you're having a good day/night. This request is very specific. I would write it myself, but im awful at it. I hope you don't mind, lol.

May you do (ex?)Angel!Male!reader x TFW (platonic obv). You can make it where Reader joined after the angels fell and was castiels past battle partner and was good friends with him, or something else if you'd like.

Reader lost his grace after a rogue angel took it from him. He has no idea how to be human and struggles a lot, even with the help of Dean, Sam, and Castiel. Anyways, to get to the point- Reader picked a pretty attractive vessel, so both men and women hit on him a lot when the group goes to diners or bars and most of the time Reader wanders off to explore since hes never really gone to earth before so the boys never notice, and he doesn't know how to react or what to do when they start to get touchy, only that he doesn't feel comfortable with it at all, but he thinks if he tells them to stop its a form of being rude, so he never says so. the person usually stops when they realize Reader isn't having the type of reaction they were looking for.

When Reader mentioned this to the boys randomly, they realized that Reader didn't know that it was bad that they were touching him and explained what it was, what to say, and do when that happens and comforts him when he finally cries as a human.

Anonymous

A/N: I am so sorry for going off the grid for a while! Honestly, keeping track of dates and time frames has not been my strong point, especially with everything going on with work. Luckily I'm almost done with another request as well and will have that up by this weekend! I hope this gives the request justice. As always, feedback is very much appreciated!

~ Much Love!

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Humans are interesting and complex creatures, each with their own thoughts, wants, needs, and interests. When (Y/N) first joined Castiel on Earth two years prior, he was amazed by the array of personalities and emotions. No two people are alike, but, due to the vast differences, many of them can be categorized under three distinct titles; good, neutral, and evil.

The good people are the ones who are selfless. They take the first step when it comes to helping others. They aren’t perfect but they are as close as anyone can be. Only a small amount of people fit into the category of ‘good’, most of which find themselves canonized into sainthood years after death. Many strive to be classified under such a prestige title, but few make the cut. However, just because someone isn’t worthy of the title, doesn’t make them a bad person automatically. 

Neutral individuals are what most would describe as your ‘average Joe’. It is the category in which most people lie. They are neither good nor bad. The choices they make in life come with a mix of positive and negative intentions. An example of a neutral person could be someone’s English teacher, who partakes in volunteer work after hours, or your boss, who had just been caught cheating on his wife with Jim from the mailroom. Just because people do bad things, doesn’t make them inherently evil. 

True evil is much darker. An individual who would put a demon to shame with their actions, thoughts, and desires. One with little regard for the well-being of others. Ones that hurt others purely for self-gratification. To gain an advantage. Those are the ones that end up in prison or a seat in Congress. They’re usually manipulative, have a silver tongue placed in their mouth at birth, and can easily coerce those who are weak and gullible. 

(Y/N) had met his fair share of individuals from all three categories throughout his time on Earth, supernatural entities excluded. At first, with his angelic powers, he was able to make an assumption of others based solely on their thoughts. Ever since the fall, however, his judgments on people had become rather askew. He was able to get the full experience of being human - not able to truly tell what one was thinking during various interactions - and he would be lying if he said he enjoyed it. Rather, the lack of understanding when it came to others caused him to develop a sense of paranoia. The last thing he wanted was for others to assume the worst of him. Even as an angel, he would treat the worst of the worst with as much kindness as he could muster.

Little did he know that the paranoia would lead to his downfall and a deep realization of how evil some people could be.

The first couple of weeks after his grace was stolen, (Y/N) was lost. He knew next to nothing about maintaining the necessary needs to keep his body alive. It was all tedious in his eyes. Why did humans need to eat, drink, and go to the bathroom so much throughout the day? Who possibly had the time to do so? Do they have to thread their needs into their schedules for work and school? On top of that, why did humans need to pay for food and water? Were they not necessities? Why would someone need to pay to survive? (Y/N) held a plethora of questions in his mind that still go unanswered. 

Thankfully, Castiel, Sam, and Dean were all there for him, guiding him through the processes necessary to provide for his new form. It took a while for him to get the hang of it - the most overwhelming thing was when he was introduced to a large variety of foods. All the new flavors and textures send his tongue into sensory overdrive. Dean was more than happy to realize, though, that the two of them were rather fond of the same flavor of pie. 

With the loss of his grace came the depletion of his strength. He was no longer invincible to man-made weaponry. Because of this, and since Sam and Dean’s jobs were so physically demanding, they spent weeks in training. Blades, firearms, and hand-to-hand all had their challenges, but (Y/N) was a quick learner, something the brothers respected him highly for. Within a month and a half, he was on the road with them, hopping from case to case. 

Saving people, hunting things, the family business. 

And true it was. The time he had spent with Castiel and the Winchesters was extensive, and there was never a dull moment. Away from the darkness and the monsters that crept in the night, Sam and Dean were playful jokesters. Childish, yet mature when they needed to be. It was noticeable that Castiel had also developed certain aspects of their personalities, as he was more lighthearted than when (Y/N) first met him. As time passed, (Y/N), too, started to display those characteristics. He felt like a member of the team. A real Winchester. For the first time since the fall, he felt at home. 

*~*

(Y/N) had been to a handful of bars since he turned human, before becoming an honorary member of the Winchester family, and there was one fact he could confidently state; he didn’t like them. 

Sure, he met some rather nice people while at said bars, mainly the middle-aged female bartenders who gave off a motherly aura, but with every kind individual he saw, he encountered twice as many assholes. Those were the ones that drunkenly called him slurs even though they knew nothing about him, the ones that shoved him out of the way when they wanted to get to the bar, or the ones that continuously pushed their limits on his personal boundaries.

Unfortunately, he had experienced the latter more than he would have liked.

He couldn’t quite describe how he felt when he had those interactions. When a bar patron would press themselves against his back or chest, touch his ass or thighs, or even leave kisses on his neck, shoulders, cheeks, and lips. It was decided, though, that he was extremely uncomfortable. Why would he possibly feel that way? He assumed that touches and kisses were how humans expressed affection towards one another. So, why didn’t he like it? He chalked it up to not being used to that form of affection or affection in general. Surely, he was bound to get comfortable with it eventually. 

After-hunt celebrations were common with the Winchesters. Either the day of or the night after, they would all gather at the nearest watering hole, grab a drink or two, and then head back to the motel. Sometimes, Sam or Dean would abandon the group to retreat with a romantic partner, but (Y/N) would always stick with Castiel and the remaining brother. He never had any interest in human relations. It was a new, complex situation outside of learning to be human. He was just getting used to that concept, and he had no desire to learn about other aspects of humanity yet. 

Classy Cline’s sat on the edge of a small town in Washington state. While its name suggested an upscale establishment, the place was, in all actuality, a shit hole. The booths and barstools were ripped at every corner of the seam, the tables were chipped and scuffed, and it appeared as if the employees hadn’t swept or mopped the floor in well over a decade. They had all been to nasty bars in the past, but Classy Cline’s took the cake.

“I don’t even wanna drink from this glass,” Sam mumbled as he eyed the pint glass Dean had placed in front of him. 

While aesthetics weren’t on Cline’s side, the beer looked more than appetizing. An amber/gold liquid, topped with a beautiful, white head. Any beer enthusiast would foam at the mouth at the sight. The glasses, contrary to the floors, looked spotless. If they had put as much effort into cleaning the building as they did disinfecting the glassware, lines would be out the door, and Cline would be a millionaire.

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Sammy,” Dean rolled his eyes and gave a beer to (Y/N) and Castiel. “It may not live up to its name, but the beer sure looks good.”

“Thank you, Dean,” (Y/N) and Castiel spoke in unison.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Dean shook his head and sat down next to his brother. “It’s as if you two are constantly in sync.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as he cupped the glass with one hand, condensation coating his palm. “We’re an American boy band from the 90’s?” He cocked his head to the side.

Dean froze, the glass inches from his lips as he shot him a questioning glance. “While I’m proud of you for remembering what I taught you about music, that’s not what I meant. ‘In sync’. Two separate words.”

“Oh…”

“(Y/N) and I have worked together for well over a century. We’re bound to have some similarities.” Castiel explained.

Dean shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” he took a sip of his beer.

(Y/N) noted Sam’s hesitancy to drink, so he took a moment to examine the liquid himself. It looked clean, safe, and better than many other beers he had drank before. He took a swig and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still very cold. A layer of foam coated his upper lip. Sam picked up his glass and examined the bottom.

“Will you stop that?” Dean scolded. “The beer is fine, Sam, you’re not going to die. You look like an idiot.”

“Well, excuse me for being skeptical, Dean! Have you seen the state of this place? I believe I have a right to be concerned.” Sam hissed.

“The beer is very pleasant, Sam,” (Y/N) smiled as he took another long swig, downing half the pint. 

Sam slowly nodded. “I can tell,” he mumbled and glanced down at his glass. He hesitated for a moment before he took a careful sip, letting the liquid rest against his tastebuds before he swallowed. He hummed and raised his brows. “Wow, that’s pretty good.”

“See? Your big brother knows a thing or two about beer,” Dean smiled.

A bartender waltzed into view - an overworked twenty-something with her dirty blonde hair tossed back into a bun that she should have fixed hours ago. She sat a rocks glass in front of (Y/N), the ice emanating a clink inside as it shifted. He stared and intensely studied the dark liquid.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t order this,” he looked up at her.

The bartender sighed and gestured towards the bar. “The man over there sent it,” she grumbled, her voice unenthusiastic and laced with exhaustion. She didn’t give him any time to further investigate before she swiveled through the booths and tables, vanishing into the crowd of regulars. 

The group looked at the drink with curiosity before their attention shifted to the bar. Only one of the patrons had their gaze glued to the hunters. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with short, salt-and-pepper hair decorating the top of his head and a beard to match. Age lines crinkled the corners of his mouth and eyes. A leather jacket covered his broad shoulders and the jeans he wore left little to the imagination. When (Y/N)’s eyes connected with the stranger’s, the man smirked and winked. (Y/N) continued to stare at him, lips slightly parted, until he felt an elbow in his side. His gaze shot over to the eldest Winchester.

“Give him a smile and a wave. That shows him you appreciate it.” Dean said through a smile.

“Oh,” (Y/N) raised his brows and looked back at the man, whose eyes were still on him. He gave a small smile, followed by a timid wave.

The stranger grinned before he turned his head away. (Y/N) looked down and studied the glass once more. The liquid was a slightly darker shade than the beer, but more transparent. When he picked it up, the liquid sloshed inside. The smell was strong but slightly sweet. Whiskey. A sip of it caused him to cringe. It was Fireball. Not the best choice to send a stranger across the bar, but to each their own. 

Dean leaned in close to him, his cheeky grin still prominent. “You should go over and talk to him.”

“Why?”

“He just gave you a drink. He wants to talk to you.”

(Y/N) gave Dean a confused stare. “How does that-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Dean waved him off. “He’s flirting with you by sending over the drink! You should go flirt back.”

(Y/N) looked from the drink to Dean, from Dean to the stranger. He was a very attractive man, but (Y/N) was far from interested in flirtation. However, if Dean thought he should, what could go wrong? He trusted Dean’s advice.

Hesitantly, (Y/N) stood, the glass of Fireball in hand, and made his way over to the bar where the gentleman sat. He took the empty barstool next to him. The man looked at him out of the corner of his eye and smirked.

“Good to see you up close,” he said and turned his body to face (Y/N). “You’re even cuter than I thought. Chris,” he held out his hand.

This is a handshake. This is how strangers greet each other.

(Y/n) grasped Chris’ hand and shook it gently. He noticed how firm his grip was. “My name is (Y/N),” he said.

Chris smirked. “A beautiful name for a beautiful man,” he pulled his hand away and casually placed it on (Y/N)’s knee. “I’ve been coming here for, close to, fifteen years, and I have never seen anyone as good-looking as yourself. You new around here?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to Chris’ hand before they returned to his face. “My friends and I are on a trip.” He replied. It’s a classic lie most hunters use and one that was taught to him early on in his training.

“Ah, and how long will you be staying?”

“I believe this is the last night we’re here.”

“You’re not sure?”

“My friend, Dean, drives us. He knows more about our itinerary than I do.”

“A ‘go with the flow’ kind of man. I like it.”

As they continued to talk, Chris’ hand ventured further up (Y/N)’s thigh, squeezing the flesh on his leg from time to time. Simple conversation switched to flirting rather quickly, the majority of it one-sided. What started as cheesy ‘first date’ type questions turned risque in the blink of an eye. At first, they were easy questions that (Y/N) could answer without an issue, but once they started to get dirty, his mind turned blank. Half the vocabulary Chris used was new to him. While he knew all of them revolved around sex, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the definition, regardless of the context clues provided. 

He could feel the familiar pit in his stomach as the questions droned on. The sensation that he couldn’t quite give a title to yet. At least, not an accurate one. ‘Uncomfortable’ seemed as if it fit too loosely for the circumstance. It felt as if there were a swarm of bees buzzing around in his stomach, moving from his gut to his chest periodically.

Chris leaned in close to (Y/N)’s ear, his warm, whiskey-filled breath caressing his cheek. (Y/N)’s eyes were cast down. He had lost the ability to maintain constant eye contact when the mood shifted, and the bees began their attack.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Chris asked. “I could show you a thing or two.”

When Chris’s hand landed on (Y/N)’s crotch, every muscle in his body was on fire as they clenched tightly. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and his body froze. The bees didn’t just fly, they infiltrated his entire nervous system. He felt an overwhelming need to retreat like one would in a battle they knew they couldn’t win. But he wasn’t in a battle. It was a simple conversation. Why did he feel like that?

Chris pressed small kisses on the back of (Y/N)’s ear. (Y/N) inhaled and turned his head slightly, the need to get away from Chris strong. Chris immediately stopped and opened his eyes. He paused for a moment before he pulled away and sighed.

“I see you’re not as interested as I thought you were,” he gave a tight smile, pulled out his wallet, and slammed a twenty on the bar. “Thanks for nothing.” He grumbled before he got up and stormed away.

With his presence gone, (Y/N) felt a sense of peace and ease wash over him. The beating of his heart inside his chest began to lessen and return to a normal pace. With a glance down at his hand, he noticed the way his fingertips trembled. That hadn’t been the first time someone else had gotten so bold with touching him, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. When was that feeling going to go away?

After a minute or so passed, he was able to compose himself enough to stand from the barstool and wander back to the table where Sam, Dean, and Castiel sat. He joined them without a word, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, and grabbed his lukewarm beer. There was no chance he was going to drink anymore that night. Not with his stomach as uneasy as it was.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam asked.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) spoke.

“You sure?” Dean chimed in. “Guy looked like he had a stick up his ass when he left.

(Y/N) shrugged. “I believe he just wanted to leave.” He tried to keep his voice as straight as possible. He could tell his nerves hadn’t fully recovered.

Dean shook his head. “Well, his loss.”

*~*

One thing (Y/N) adored about being human was the way showers made him feel after a hunt. He never quite realized how tense his muscles could get until the hot water caressed his limbs. It was as if all the adrenaline was washed from his body. It made him feel refreshed. Renewed.

That night, he got the last shower. The water wasn’t as hot as other showers he had taken, but he would accept warm any day. By the time he left the bathroom, clad in a pair of night pants and a loose t-shirt courtesy of the youngest Winchester, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were dressed to leave. Another post-hunt celebration. Dean glanced at (Y/N).

“You’re not coming?” He asked. 

(Y/N) shook his head and walked over to his bed. “Not tonight, no.”

“Why not? You never miss out on a bar.”

(Y/N) settled into the bed, and sat up with his legs crossed. “I notice that humans get very physical when they are at bars. I’m not quite used to it yet, so I think I’m going to wait until I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, (Y/N)?” Castiel asked.

“The touching.”

The three of them shared a concerned look before Sam waved his hand dramatically, eyes closed tightly. 

“Wait,” he reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you mean ‘get used to’?”

“Well, I’m not accustomed to the way humans express attraction. I surely wasn’t aware that there was as much physical contact involved. So, I figured it was something I would be more comfortable with as time went on. I mean, I never knew strangers were so interested in touching each other’s genitalia.”

They all furrowed their brows, confusion etched perfectly on their faces, and slowly made their way over to the bed. Sam sat at the edge next to (Y/N), Dean stood next to him, and Castiel sat on the opposite side of the bed from Sam.

“(Y/N),” Sam started, his voice soft and steady, the same voice he used when talking to the families of victims. “Have you…given these people permission to touch you?”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side, slightly taken aback by the question, as it was something he had never even considered before. Had he permitted them to touch him? He could not recall. Then again, he didn’t remember them asking. He took a moment to think back on the times he had been in bars since he became human.

“No,” he answered. “The first couple of times it happened, I pulled away from the touch, as it made me rather uncomfortable, but they would just get upset. One man told me it was wrong to ‘lead him on’ and then deny his touch. After that, I let people touch me. I would like a break from it for tonight.”

“(Y/N), other humans need permission to touch you,” Castiel said.

“But they get upset-”

“To Hell with them being upset,” Dean interjected. “No one has a right to touch you, especially if you don’t want them to.”

“Is that why that one guy left the last bar we went to left? You wouldn’t let him touch you?” Sam asked.

(Y/N) could feel his cheeks and neck heat up. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hide his face. Was it because of the answer to the question? Was it because of the question itself? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the origin of the sense of dread, but he knew it wasn’t going to vanish anytime soon.

He shook his head, eyes cast down to his hands. “I let him touch me. I assume it was because I didn’t respond when he asked me to leave with him.”

Dean’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand down his face. “Son of a bitch,” he growled and began to lightly pace between the motel beds.

Sam slowly shook his head. “(Y/N), those people are horrible. You should never touch someone without consent, and you should never let anyone touch you if you are uncomfortable with it. Do you understand?” His eyes were laced with sympathy.

(Y/N) went to say something, but he felt a lump in his throat prevent him from doing so. Instead, he just gave a short, brief nod.

“I can only imagine how tough it was to become human. To lose all that power. You may not have the power to heal us anymore or read others’ minds, but you are still your own person, (Y/N). You have the power to tell people to keep their hands off of you. You have the power to let yourself have a good time at these places. It doesn’t matter what other people think about your choices. In the end, all that matters is you, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice shaky and barely above a whisper. 

(Y/N) sniffled, and he felt as if his head was pulsing. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks. For the first time since he lost his grace, he cried. It wasn’t loud and dramatic, but, rather, soft.

It explained so much. How he hated the way bar patrons touched him, the sinking feeling when they got too close, the panic that coursed through his veins. That was no flaw on his part, but a flaw on the strangers. What they did was wrong, not him.

And that validation broke him.

(Y/N) immediately knew he hated crying. His chest ached as the silent sobs racked his body. In a way, it was relieving, though. It felt as if all of the pent-up discomfort was being released. As if he was reborn. Still, it hurt worse than it did comfort him.

Castiel was the first to respond as he placed a gentle hand against (Y/N)’s back, Sam, being the closest, engulfed him in a near bone-shattering embrace, and Dean halted his paces to kneel beside the bed, one of his hands landing on the small of his back. (Y/N) closed his eyes tight and leaned his head against Sam’s chest. Their touch made him feel safe. This was a good touch. This was how touch should make him feel. He shouldn’t be forced to feel uncomfortable to please others, because, in reality, some people aren’t going to like him, even if the reasons are far from valid. It was a harsh reality, but as long as he had his family by his side, he didn’t mind if the whole world hated him.

After a few quiet minutes, filled with silent cries, the tears stopped. (Y/N)’s eyes were bright red and puffy, and he occasionally sniffled.

“Hey,” Dean said, his voice soothing.

(Y/N) lifted his head from Sam’s chest and glanced over at him. Sam pulled back a bit so the embrace wasn’t nearly as intense.

“If you’re ever in a situation like that, where some douchebag won’t keep his hands off of you, all you have to do is say the word and we’ll kick his ass for you.”

“What if it’s a woman?” He asked quietly.

Dean opened his mouth to give a quick answer but shut it as he thought about it. “Then we will have Cas bring Jody or Charlie in to kick her ass. The point is; fuck everyone else.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Does that not mean to have intercourse with them?”

Dean sighed. “Sam, Cas, a little help?”

“What Dean is trying to say,” Castiel chimed in. “Is that you should not prioritize other peoples’ desires over your comfort. You are more important than a stranger. They are not important, you are, and what other people think doesn’t matter. If someone does not listen to you when you deny them, we will do everything in our power to protect you. We still care about you, and want what’s best for you.”

Dean pressed his lips together and nodded. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. That’s exactly what I meant.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Look, we know how tough it is to be human. Dean and I have been dealing with this our whole lives. We know that there are setbacks that come with the package, but there are also a ton of fun experiences. We don’t want some jackass to ruin it for you. Cas said it better than Dean or I could. We care about you and want to do everything we can to look out for you. You deserve it.”

The tears reappeared, but they weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of joy. Of relief. As if his heart would burst with all the love and care his friends will it with. (Y/N) took a moment to wrap his arms around each of them in an individual hug to show his appreciation. 

“Thank you. I am very grateful to have friends like you.” He smiled warmly.

Dean smiled before he cleared his throat and waved him off. “Alright, enough of the chick-flick crap,” he said as he stood from his spot on the floor, a groan escaping his throat that he tried not to make too noticeable. “What do you say we skip the bar tonight, order some takeout, and watch a movie? I hear Roadhouse is on at seven.”

(Y/N) cocked his head to the side. “What’s Roadhouse?”

Dean froze, wide-eyed. His jaw dropped in shock. “‘What’s Roadhouse’?” He repeated in disbelief. “Action movie? Patrick Swayze? Sam Elliott? Kelly Lumch? Julie Michaels? Keith David!?” With each name, his voice got louder.

“Are those actors?”

“I-” Dean threw his hands up as he turned his back on him and began to pace around the room once more.

(Y/N) flashed a worried look at Castiel, then Sam. Sam shook his head and chuckled. 

“Dean’s just being dramatic,” he whispered, which caused (Y/N) to let out a sigh of relief.

“I am not being dramatic!” Dean retorted before he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “This is all my fault. I was so focused on teaching him about good music that movies never crossed my mind. Have you at least seen Indiana Jones?”

“Indiana…as in the state?”

“If it makes you feel any better, (Y/N), I, too, have yet to see Roadhouse or Indiana Jones,” Castiel said.

Dean deadpanned. “I have some work to do. Sam, go get us some food. I need to make a list of movies for them to watch.”

Sam snorted as he stood from his spot on the bed. “Yeah, yeah. Just text me what you guys want.” He mumbled and retrieved his jacket from the back of one of the chairs.

As Sam left to get them food, Dean began to ramble on about movies he determined (Y/N) and Castiel had to watch, most of which were either action or old westerns. He talked with such passion regarding the films that (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Dean was right, the opinions of others didn’t matter, especially those whose only goal was to satisfy their selfish desires, disregarding others’ wellbeing. They were foolish, scum, true lions in sheep’s clothing. Those hidden evil beings could make themselves look innocent. (Y/N) didn’t need to please them. Didn’t need to make them happy. He only wanted to make his family happy, just as they did him. For how much they’ve helped him on his treacherous journey into manhood, they deserve it, for they have taught him the most valuable lesson of all;

His worth was priceless.

…

“Hey, are you even listening?”

[usmsgutterson]

omg hi i never realised i wasnt following you, i was wodering if you could do something with kaz brekker (romantic) /crows (plationic) where reader is mattias's sister and they met her and its really angsty like shes a new recruit for the fjerdian girl in the menengrie and inej sees her

and i love your writing so much!! you were the first kaz brekker fanfiction i ever read <3

Brandy- K.B x platonic! crows x matthias' sister! reader

First off, thank you so much for sending this in! I am so sorry it's taken me so long--I've been demotivated and only started getting into a kind of rhythm again recently!

On another note: the kaz brekker part of the fic is more implied to come later on than right as the fic takes place because the reader goes through a lot and having a romantic subplot just BOOM RIGHT THERE didn't feel right to me in the writing process

Fic type- this is some heavy angst that leads into hurt/comfort

Warnings- this one is a heavier fic--trafficking and rape are mentioned. The scenes wherein the reader is taken and put onto the slavers ship is depicted but not in too graphic detail (it's described as being knocked unconscious and blindfolded before being loaded onto a boat. The room that the reader ends up in isn't described in too heavy detail either, but there are mentions that the food the reader got came at random and their access to sunlight was restricted), theres a lot of discussion of death and a couple of mentions of strangulation--I've edited this but still might have missed a thing or two so feel free to tell me just in case.

You'd left Fjerda in search of your brother a solid eight months after he'd disappeared, when the letters you'd exchanged while he was in Druskelle training ceased and hadn't come in for that duration. You'd initially gone to the Druskelle--Jarl Brum, the Druskelle your brother had mentioned by name in the letters you'd exchanged. They'd all told you he'd been dead, but you didn't believe it.

So, you kept your ears open, and when you heard of a Fjerdan going to trial for involvement in the slave trade in Ketterdam, your instincts set you off on a boat to Ketterdam to find out if it was him, thinking that it could go two ways.

Either the first way, which was that it was Matthias and he'd been a shitty person for getting involved with the slave trade, or the second.

He was dead, the person on the slave trading charges was someone different, and you had lodgings in Ketterdam booked for a months stay before you headed back to your beloved country of ice and snow that would turn out to be pointless.

But you never did get to Ketterdam.

At least not on the boat you'd booked a ticket for. The night before you were to leave, the tavern you'd been drinking warmed brandy in was raided by slave traders. You were knocked unconscious, blind folded, and loaded onto a boat.

In the time thereafter, you spent no less than a week in a dodgy room, eating and drinking when your slavers deemed it a good enough time.

You were allowed sunlight only when you were taken to Tante Heleen, auctioned off to her and then forced by her to sign a contract in a language you hardly understood, as you'd barely been learning Kerch for six months by then. She'd grinned at you when you signed though she made it clear that you could not walk out of the room without doing so, and to even attempt it would result either in your death or her grabbing your hand and forcing you to sign the contract in a way that made the forcing seem much more obvious than it was.

As you were taken to the Menagerie, she'd grinned at you again. She'd asked where you were from, and when you told her that you were Fjerdan, her eyes had lit up.

"Oh, I've needed a new wolf! My men have been excellent to me this day, little wolf, and you shall reap the benefits!"

You got to the Menagerie and were given a tattoo on your wrist, silvery furs to wear and the natural color of your hair was tailored away in favor of a platinum blonde.

There were golden bars on the window of your room and each night, rather than sleeping, you looked through them. You watched the sun as it set and you watched the people blunder from one pleasure house to the next.

You cried whenever Heleen would introduce you to a client at first, but crying warranted a beating, so you stopped after the first month and a half. You took to crying when you were alone, thanking Heleen for every meal you got and hoping, hoping your indenture decreased by the minute.

But then, one night, as you were people watching, you caught sight of a girl on the roof of the building across from you. Your eyes widened as she met your gaze, pleading, desperate.

Get me out of here, you thought. Get me out. Please, get me out. Make this madness end.

Her gaze hardened and you thought you'd mistaken her for someone who could've sympathized with you, but then she rolled up her sleeve and you saw a patch of scarring. It looked almost like a botched tattoo removal, and as much made you confused.

But you didn't have time to question it. She was there one second, gone running and jumping across rooftops the next. You wondered if you'd ever see her again, hoped that you did. If the marks she'd showed you were any consolation, you had at least one person to rely on and that moment, a solid six or so months since you'd been taken to Ketterdam, even one person to rely on meant the world.

-

It had been two months since Inej had seen you that first time. Two months of plotting, planning, and it was all coming to a head that morning.

"Tante," Inej greeted on the first morning of autumn. "I am in need of one of the girls you keep here. She's Fjerdan."

"You walk into my enclosure," Tante said, gesturing at it all as she sat behind her desk. "Knowing that you, too, were once indentured here? I can have you indentured here again just as easily, my little lynx. What do you require of my little wolf?"

"If you try to kidnap me again, there is a sharpshooter ready to aim and fire at you within a split seconds notice," she said. "There is a very angry ex-Druskelle standing outside the front door, along with a heartrender, a bombs expert, and a someone so good at cards he can control any hand he wants. Let me see the girl or so help me, I will stab myself and make it seem from the sharpshooters perspective that you are doing it, and you will lose your life right here in this parlor, in front of all of your girls and all of the rapists that you call clientele."

At that, Tante showed a second of pause before turning to one of her men and nodding. "Unlock her door," she said. "Tell the little wolf that the lynx has come to visit. I can grant you fifteen minutes, Mrs. Ghafa."

Inej nodded. That was enough. It had to be enough.

Enough time for Tante to busy herself when Matthias came in posing as a client, for Nina and Kaz to sneak in through a back entrance and steal your indenture contract right from her desk, swap it with a contract that held both your signature and her own but had different wording, and make it back to the front, where the three of them were meant to be waiting while Wylan smoked a cigarette--a fake, one with chamomile and lavender in the filter--and tried his damndest to look casual.

She followed the man to your room, tried not to feel her heart break when she watched you flinch before she showed herself from behind his back.

Carefully, Inej slipped a knife out from her forearm--Sankta Alina--and pressed it against the mans back.

"You report that flinch to Tante and I will find you and cut you in two," she whispered. "You are actively participating in the trafficking of innocent girls. I understand that this is the Barrel, but I guarantee there are less vile crimes to commit. I would reccomend you find something better unless the last thing you fancy a sight of is my knife plunging into your chest."

The man gave a single nod and left the room, standing guard outside the door.

"Who are you?" You asked. "I wasn't informed anyone would be visiting, let alone the girl who's been watching me like a hawk since I hit the six month mark of being indentured here."

"My name is Inej Ghafa," she said. "I showed you the spot where my tattoo used to be--I was the Suli Lynx before Kaz bought out my indenture and I started working for the Dregs. I assume that your name is Y/N Helvar?"

"I have been Tante Heleens precious little wolf since I got here," you said. "I need to leave--I've been trying to figure out how, but I just can't figure it out for the life of me."

"Matthias is downstairs now, pretending to be a client very interested in owning a share of the business," Inej said. "Kaz and Nina are currently doing a grab and swap--they've managed to forge a contract and your signature based off of old job contracts you signed while in Fjerda. It'll hold up to scrutiny and at worst, look like Tante Heleen made a mistake. The contract they'll replace with the one they burn later will say that your indenture was set at a finite amount that's decreased rather than increasing since you were brought here."

"Has it not been?" You asked. "My Kerch wasn't great when I first got here--it's definitely gotten better since, I will say--but I thought that it had been decreasing. The decrease was what I'd been hinging my hope on."

"Tante writes them so that the cost of the indenture increases," Inej said. "You would've been stuck here--but our time is limited. I've only got fifteen minutes before I'm gone. Tante will call you down no less than ten after I've left, and you'll meet a guy who is all sharp edges and rough cuts--his name is Kaz Brekker, and he's someone you can trust, Y/N. I promise."

You stepped forward, hesitant, and Inej pulled you into a hug, using the hug as an excuse to tuck a knife into your furs.

"I understand hesitancy to kill," she said. "But if maiming, in the least, is necessary, I can pray to your Fjerdan saints with you later. We can ask that you get forgiveness for doing harm to those who have done worse to you."

"Did--did you say Matthias?" You asked. "I'm sorry--it's just that a lot has been thrown at me today. Matthias as in Helvar?"

"Yeah," Inej said, smiling at you as she puled away from the hug. You had tears in your eyes. "He's alive, Y/N, and he thought you were dead from the Ice Court heist onward, but he's relieved you aren't."

You wanted to cry, but of happiness or sadness, you didn't know.

Inej didn't say much of anything during the rest of her time, just sat with you on your bed, your hands locked together, until her time was up and the man who stood guard outside your door knocked to let you know that your time with her was done.

She left with tears in her eyes, remembering a time where she looked and felt just as helpless as you did.

-

Fifteen minutes later, you were being called down to the parlor. You followed a guard down the stairs, and when you caught sight of the person Inej had described--all sharp edges, rough cuts--you forced yourself to meet his gaze briefly. He was the one shot you had at getting out. His plan had to have worked or you would've died while stuck working as a slave to Heleen.

Next to him stood Matthias.

"Do you know this person?" Tante asked, gesturing to the one beside whom your brother stood.

"I do," you said, hoping that the lie was convincing enough. "I do know him."

"And do you know his business partner?" Tante asked. You glanced at your brother. He had murder in his gaze, and he kept it focused on the woman who'd been holding you in the hostage that was your indenture.

"Yes," you said. "His name is Matthias Helvar. His associate is called Kaz Brekker."

"See?" Kaz asked. "Old friends, she and I, and if I am to remember it correctly, she told me that you told her her indenture would be out with the start of fall. Today is the first day of the season."

"Her contract says otherwise," Tante said. "And I said no such things to her--Y/N, did I?"

"You did," you said, hopefully going along with the plan that was in place. "You said I'd only be here for eight months. It has been eight months, Tante."

"Must've been an error," she said, glaring at you. You stepped back in your fear and like the protective brother he tended to be, Matthias stepped forward.

Kaz glared at him as Tante pulled your contract from her desk.

"Does the contract say as we claim?" Matthias asked. "Y/Ns signature should be on it. As should yours."

Tante glowered at Kaz. "Whatever you've done, this fake will not hold up to close scrutiny."

At that, Kaz shrugged. "I've not done a bloody thing, Ms. Heleen. Perhaps you were drunk in the contract writeup, decided to take pity on one of your girls?"

"I was sober as a cow," she said. "But--fine. You win for now."

"You will give Y/N to us immediately," Matthias said. Kaz nodded, affirming the words.

"She is to be under the protection of the Dregs," Kaz said. "Any attempt on her life is as good as an attempt on mine, and I will make you pay for it. It will cost you more than all of the indentures of the girls here combined, Ms. Heleen."

"Fine," she said. "Take my little wolf away from me."

You stepped toward Matthias.

"You have a good day, Tante," Kaz said. The three of you made a beeline for the exit, and Inej gave you her hand. She let you lean on her in the walk from the Menagerie to the Slat, where Nina gave you clothes to change into and toiletries to shower.

You showered, washed eight months of grime and dirt and the general feeling of disgust off of yourself in the forty five minutes it took to get most of it. The feeling of disgust, the extreme disdain, the pain that you carried, were things that you were sure could not be washed away with a simple shower.

The outfitting you'd been given had been a dress that was flowy and did not adhere to every part of your body. It was black and stopped just a bit above your ankles. There was a dip in the neckline but nothing that would have anybody looking, and sleeves that stopped at your elbows.

Along with it, you were given an old cardigan, a pair of appropriate socks, and brand new combat boots, good for giving anyone a kick where it hurt the most if need be.

You headed to the bottom floor of the Slat, thanked Nina as you found her amidst the chaos and decided to lean against a wall rather than sitting down.

Matthias brought you a glass of brandy, and that was all it took.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

You took a sip of the brandy. "It's not your fault," you said. "I was going to come to Ketterdam to look for you--I couldn't believe you'd died--and the tavern I was in the night before I left was overtaken. I was put on a slavers ship and sold to Tante. None of that is on you, Matthias."

"You came looking for me," he said. "So, therefore, it's my fault."

"No," you said. "It's not. It's the fault of the slavers, the captain and crew of that boat, and Tante Heleen. You and I are blameless."

"But--"

"I was trafficked, Matthias," you said. "I was sold to a woman who indentured me to servitude. I was raped. None of that is your burden to bear, and if you start bearing it I will cut off one of your fingers."

You took a sip of your brandy.

As much as you loved your brother, you knew that a meaningful conversation was not likely to start until you both had time to think. Matthias was at the stage of it wherein he blamed himself. You had long grown past that, and the shame you felt because of it had transformed in two different cycles--first, desperation to get out of the Menagerie, and second, anger at Tante Heleen and those involved with your capture and sale.

"Matthias, dear," the one called Nina called out to him. "Wylan thinks that an espresso martini is better than bourbon. Discuss."

You shot her a grateful look. She nodded at you and for a moment you almost thought she understood.

"I've gotten into contact with a tailor," Kaz said. You took a sip of your brandy. "Inejs removal was botched, but Matthias forked over the kruge if you want it removed."

"You said that I am to be under the protection of the Dregs," you said. "A gang, as is obvious now, but what does that protection mean, in no uncertain terms?"

"It means exactly what it says on the tin. You are protected by us, Y/N. I can't promise you safety, nor happiness or health in the Barrel, but I can at least promise you that. Inej already seems like she'd fight tooth and nail to keep you alive, and she is the best ally you can have in these parts."

"Might it also mean a job?" You asked. "I have nothing, Kaz. People home probably think I'm dead. I wanted a fresh start terribly when I was in Fjerda, so this might just be my best bet."

Kaz nodded. "Your first shift at the Crow Club is in two days time, and a room in the Slat is free. I'll have the current bartender teach you how to make a couple of decent drinks, and provided I see any other ways in which you might prove to be an asset, you'll join us on the jobs that make us rich. You don't need to take up the crow and cup if you don't want to--I am sure you've had enough of tattoos for a lifetime."

You nodded. "Thank you."

"You could still die," Kaz said. "Your death was a likely thing in the Menagerie--I saw one Karl Van Houden on your list of clients? He killed two of the girls in other brothels city wide--and it's just as likely outside of it."

"If I die in these streets, I am dying with my dignity," you said. "In the Menagerie, I would've died without it, strangled by a client who hated the fact that I was crying. Dying with your dignity intact, you'll find, makes a world of difference."

Kaz shrugged. "I will be taking your word for it," he said.

You shook your head as he walked away, grinned at Inej as you noticed her approaching.

"How are you doing?"

"I've been worse," you said with a shrug. "I've been without brandy and good music. Definitely worse."

Inej grinned, took your free hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "Does it hurt?" She asked. "The pain of accepting all of it. Are you okay?"

"It burns in my chest when I think about it too long," you said. "I just--I think about Heleen and I want to set the Menagerie on fire. I hate it. I hate her. I don't know how to deal with this."

"And you won't figure out the right way for a bit," Inej said. "It varies for everyone. You just come to a point where--you accept that what happened happened, that sometimes, good people are subjected to terrible things and the people who subjected them to those things just go on living in places like this one. It does get easier with time, though you never feel like it will."

"Thank you," you said. "For rescuing me. For giving me council as you have."

Inej shook her head. "I've been trying to convince Kaz to let you onto the team since we first made eye contact," she said. "It wasn't an easy feat until Matthias, Nina, Jesper and Wylan backed me up without knowing any of the real details, and even then, it still took a bit more convincing. Kaz is very selective with the people he lets onto the team, but you'll be a good asset."

"Thank you," you said again. "Seriously. I would've died within those walls, Inej. Thank you for saving me from that."

She walked away, and you glanced at your nearly empty glass of brandy, heading to the bar to get yourself another.

You had your entire future ahead, and you didn't want to think another minute of Tante Heleen, but you did.

You decided you'd get your revenge on her someday, even if it was just a miniscule form of such.

[cordyce]

(we are written) in the sand and in the stars

Neteyam x Reader

Fic Summary: Sullys stick together. That is something you have heard since the beginning. But when you are forced to uproot and leave your home, it is something you must learn to fully take to heart. You are not technically a Sully, but you fight like one. And that in turn is enough to be shielded like one as well. There is no choice but to openly accept that this family, these Na’vi, are your fortress. It is perhaps harder, though, to accept that Neteyam has seemingly appointed himself as your personal guard.

༄ CHAPTER ONE: THE TURNING OF THE TIDE

Chapter Summary: It’s quite normal for you to find yourself in a position where you’re forced to rescue your siblings out of whatever trouble they seem to get themselves into. This time, though, the trouble they stumble in has your life uprooting right out from under you.

Next Chapter | Read on AO3

Change is not always wished for.

Sometimes it just crashes in; ebbs and flows like the ocean waves as the tides attempt to conquer their never ending battle of easing against the grain. It does not give you much of a choice, does not care about your contentment in the moment, whether or not you are ready to embrace it. Fair amounts of times there is no warning, no siren to let you know of its approach.

It simply comes. And it uproots you from the comfort of where you find yourself to be planted. Your roots being forced out of the only soil that you know, that makes you who you are, that augments you.

And it plants you elsewhere.

Life on Pandora was the only life you knew, the only life you would ever know. You were born here, on the ship before the initial war happened. Apparently guns aren’t the only thing the human military doesn’t know how to keep to themselves, because you weren’t the only baby left behind either.

Growing up with Spider by your side as your off-the-record brother was a bit unorthodox, especially in the early years. You were older–by just a month, but you’d forever hang it over his head–and you felt that weight on you from the start. Which in turn might be where the guilt that settles so cooly in the bottom of your gut spawns from.

He has always been so curious, adventurous in his own right in a way that seemed to always tie him into trouble and get dragged down by it like a rope around the ankles. And you were always the one responsible for cutting him free, cleaning up his messes and tugging him back to reality when he would venture out too far in his escapades. The tether tying you two together was knotted and it reflected in how you felt the kinks tug at you like a bind on your wrist.

You were both human, exceptions that were allowed to run free in a fleeting sense among the Omaticaya clan and embrace it as you so chose. The Sully children were more accepting, more open to the thought of the two of you being there, than the rest of their people. You understood that–and you thought Spider did, too–but it was still so easy to selfishly question why you received such shunning looks as a child as you walked around their home.

Yet, it was comforting–to know you had someone who could really relate. Being orphaned in the same place really does wonders in bonding with one another. So maybe that’s why you felt so guilty, so contrite when it all went down.

You were still so young–just seven years old–when you started getting sick. The technology carried over by the scientists on Pandora was vast, sure, but it wasn’t like there was a research hospital planted there that could explain every medical outlier that occurred. So when they tried running tests, monitoring vitals and having trials with the different medicines they had on hand and nothing seemed to work, you came to mature conclusions at the brink of your childhood.

You were going to die, is what you had deduced. A month before your eighth birthday and your prognosis was due up by before then. And it was scary, of course, (the concept of dying is not an easy one to swallow, let alone for a seven year old) but you were more worried for Spider.

Leaving him there? Alone? As the only human child in all of Pandora when you yourself knew what it was like to feel like an oddly placed outcast? It hurt you, pained you, but even when you were bound to the confines of your bed you put on a brave face.

Because, after all, that’s what older siblings are supposed to do, is it not? Make sure their siblings never have to worry about anything? Make sure they think everything is okay?

It was then you learned the very dire lesson of what it meant to fake it until you make it. Smiling at Spider’s and Lo’ak’s absurd stories about whatever bind they had gotten themselves into this time and using your hand to cover up the blood you felt on the tip of your tongue as you laughed. Shielding him, protecting him, until the very last second.

But, as stated, the technology on Pandora was quite vast. And, while it was clear there was no human antidote that could cure you of whatever ailment was plaguing your body, there was a last stitch resort.

It was Kiri, who you heard propose it to Dr. Max.

To this day you think her origins are what give her such enlightenment about things, what opens her eyes to solutions of problems that always hold the best intentions and always seem to have ties to her soul. Even at such a young age. She’s connected to something, whether it be the pure humanity that Grace once held or something else, you’ve never been quite sure, but it has never failed to captivate you.

There was one singular unattributed Avatar that had been a sort of.. test.

Being the first abandoned baby left behind on Pandora in lieu of the resolution of war meant more opportunities. While the scientists knew full well how their prior Avatars maintained, there was a bit of a question in hindsight. Why not have one grow alongside you?

It seemed like more of a moral dilemma than it really was, but all you had to attribute was a sample of your DNA, which was really harmless enough. The Avatar would not be used–not while the driver was still young, at the very least–but it would be monitored, observed. They already knew how Avatars grew when being aided with rapid growth hormones during their flights from Earth, but this one would be left to run its natural course.

Unbothered, undisturbed, isolated from every outside force besides the scientists who were cleared to be in the room with its amnio tank, it grew freely. You had never seen it, never asked about it, because it was a touchy subject to address. After all, Spider didn’t have one, and while it seemed partially trivial to you (it’s not like you were going to be able to use it anyways), you could see how jilted it made him. So no one chose to bring it up into conversation.

That is, until you were dying. And suddenly Kiri’s seemingly innocent suggestion held more vital weight than anyone could ever imagine.

It took a bit to prepare and things like this tend to take some convincing. It was hard enough the first two times, bringing in one of the sky people for a consciousness transfer is never an easy subject to propose, understandably. But you were a special case. You were different; sick, innocent, familiar.

You were a dying child.

It wasn’t primarily easy but it was also easy enough convincing Mo’at to attempt the transfer when Jake carried you to her. You were frail, weak. It was clear your time was running out and running out fast, mere grains of sand away until your hourglass’s top half went empty. So it was set into motion accordingly.

After all, even if it was unsuccessful you were going to die anyway. It’s not like there was much to lose.

The night of your transfer was the first night you’d ever seen your Avatar. Looking over as Neytiri carried it, walking next to Jake as they took you to the Tree of Souls. Staring into a Na’vi-esque mirror is the best way your young mind could think to describe it. It looked like you, but it didn’t. It looked Na’vi, but it still had its flaws.

That was the last you saw of your Avatar before you were placed at the roots of the tree next to it. The feeling was strange, alien, as tendrils began to connect to you. You figured that was about accurate– alien. Though up until this point (and after) you realized that was how the Na’vi viewed all aspects of you.

Your last memory before you felt your consciousness slipping was the touch of each member of the Sully line pressing their palm to your temple. Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, Lo’ak, all of their presences known to you. Spider wasn’t there, he was not permitted. And as your eyes fluttered shut and your consciousness regressed, you wondered what he was thinking about it all.

That was your last thought, before white light engulfed your mind.

Fast Forward - Present Time

“We will need to run another raid as soon as possible,” Jake states, looking to where the three of you were flanking him on your ikrans. “Keep them on their toes. Back to back blows will be the most effective.”

“Yes,” Neytiri nods, “Continue to cut off supplies.”

“More patrols should take place. Son, I need smooth patrols. If you are not up for that–”

“I am,” Neteyam interjects instantly, and your gaze flickers to him as he does so. His expression is serious, promising. “There will be no more errors, sir. Smooth patrols only.”

You study him, cinch your brows as he makes this promise as if he’s the one who chooses to stray from the marks. You suppose you get it though, understand the duty he feels to attempt to bear the chastisement for his younger brother. Still, it seems a promise too faltering to keep.

As if he senses your thoughts on this, his eyes dart over his shoulder to you. A side eye as if asking you to not comment on it, not pipe up. You hadn’t planned to but now you have the urge to retort something just because. However, you don’t have the chance.

“Devil Dog? Devil Dog, this is Eagle Eye. Over.”

Lo’ak’s voice over the comm brings all of your attentions back to hand. If not for his randomness, then his tone came through wired enough to have you all focused.

“Eagle Eye, send your traffic,” Jake answers, fingers to the button at his throat.

“I got eyes on some guys. They look like Avatars, but they’re in full camo and carrying ARs. There’s six of them. Over.”

The change in the air is instant. Despite flying it feels stiff, like the four of you are suddenly suspended rather than gliding. Lo’ak’s news means there’s people on the island, which you’re all obviously well aware of. But it doesn’t just mean that. It means there are Avatars, and if he doesn’t recognize them then it’s very clear on who they belong to.

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. “What’s your pos? Over.”

“Uh..” A breath. “We’re at the old shack.”

His father stiffens on the back of his ikran and sends a tense look to his mate. “Who’s we?”

There’s a pause now, at this question. A short one, a slight hesitation. You feel a tingle at the tips of your ears that doesn’t sit well with you. There’s a touch of static, a falter, then the silence breaks.

“Me, Spider, Kiri.. and Tuk.”

You see Neytiri’s eyes widen. You watch as Jake’s jaw clenches. You take note of how Neteyam’s grip tightens ever so slightly. And you become fully aware of the feeling of your stomach dropping as if you’ve fallen off your ikran from the peaks of the mountains.

“Son, you listen to me very carefully,” Jake instructs, no waver in his tone. “Fall back right now. Do not make a sound. Get the hell out of there. Move. Copy?”

“Yes sir,” Lo’ak hits immediately. “Moving out.”

Neteyam shakes himself free first and sends a glance back at you before moving up and getting in line with his father.

“Dad! I know a quick way,” he affirms, then instantly banks a hard right to which the three of you follow close behind.

For a moment you wonder how he knows a short cut. It was forbidden by Jake and Neytiri (especially the former) to go anywhere near the old fight zone, for anyone. So how would Neteyam know a way? If not that he had already been? Had not already broken that rule?

The thought turns trifling immediately after you have it though, because the weight of the situation finally hits you. It’s not just your friends turned family down there, it’s your brother. Your mindless, idiotic, always getting himself into these absolutely stupid situations brother.

The shortcut suddenly seems far too long to be considered as such.

As soon as your squad lands, you’re all immediately sliding off the backs of your ikrans. Jake and Neytiri are gauging up and you find yourself stepping right along with them, Neteyam as well.

“No no no. Stay with the ikran.” Jake lifts a hand to the two of you, looking at Neteyam a bit more intensely as he gives his order.

“But Dad,” Neteyam butts in, taking another step forward. “I'm a warrior like you. I’m s’pposed to fight.”

“Neteyam.”

Jake hardens his gaze. “I’m not gonna say it again.”

Neytiri gives her son one last look then shoots one to you before the pair turns their backs and brings up their weapons. You bite the inside of your cheek, clench the handle of the knife at your waist.

“Yes sir,” Neteyam mumbles back obediently. He turns around himself and brushes past you to walk back next to his ikran.

You stare after their retreating forms for a moment. Staying behind and doing nothing does not sit well with you. Not to mention the building up of anxiety in your chest that has your fingers twitching and your ears wanting to press back against your skull. Whirling around, you stalk back to your ikran and pull your bow off of where it's cinched to its side.

“Where are you going?” Neteyam catches you by your wrist as you go to follow the path your clan leaders have just taken.

With a shake of your hand you loose his hold and fix him with a glare. “I am not going to stand by while they are out there alone.”

It’s raining, and a drop hits you on your cheek that feels strangely cold. The pattering of rain in the forest normally calms you, puts you at ease. But it is different this night. This night, you can hear the artificial animal calls Neytiri and Jake are voicing to signal to their children. This night, you are on edge as you wait for your family to be returned to safety.

This night, you hear a blaze of gunfire.

Both you and Neteyam snap your heads in the direction of the noise. You suck in a breath, harden your hold on your bow at the sounds of yelling and machinery going off. You’re taking a step forward instantly, but just as quickly you’re being shoved back from your path.

“Let me go, Neteyam!” You hiss, bare your teeth at him as he locks his hands on your upper arms and pushes your back against the tree.

“You stay here,” he jeers right back. “Stay here in case they come back. You do not stray.”

You shove against him, get your back a few inches from the bark. “I will not– ”

“Stay here!” He barks in a tone you know to be his future leader voice as he forces you back again. There’s a squeeze to your arms, reassuring but also pleading. The look in his eyes is one you can only describe as desperate. “Rutxe.” [ “Please.” ]

Neteyam has this sort of air about him that tends to command respect, compliance. So maybe that is what steels you as he retracts his grip and runs into the forest. You watch him for a moment, hand still on your bow before your eyes flicker to your surroundings. Surely the ikrans would warn you if they sensed any incoming danger that you had not, but as you draw up your bow you think it right to be better safe than sorry.

It’s painstaking, the waiting. You twitch and turn at every creak and crack you hear around you. Wondering when and who is going to be coming through those trees first, who will reach the brink of safety in order.

The gunfire continues and unfamiliar voices mixed with those you know all too well seem to get closer and closer. It’s like everything begins to heighten, increase and expand like walls closing in. There’s a snap to your left and you ready your bow, pointing it in the direction your ears lead you just in case.

But it is no foreigner. You drop your weapon as Lo’ak and Tuk breach the small clearing and skirt in panting. Tuk jerks her hand free from Lo’ak’s when he stops to bend over and catch his breath, not faltering until she runs straight into you.

“Tuk,” you sigh in relief as she collides into your arms. As you’re kneeling to embrace her, checking for any injuries or damages on her young self, the second group of your clan comes through.

“You okay? Are you hurt?” Jake questions instantly as he and Neteyam make it into the clearing. Lo’ak shakes his head, and you do the same when he takes a quick glance to Tuk as she runs to him the next second, high sobs falling from her lips.

A bright light sweeps over the forestry and the Sully brothers step up to your sides as all of you look up to see an RDA aircraft come down to retrieve their men and then fly away. Just as they’re falling out, the missing segment of your family tumbles into the huddle.

Tuk makes an immediate bee line for her mother, who wraps her arms around her and exhales gratefully. You’re still on your knees as everyone begins embracing one another, holding and clinging and regaining themselves after too close of a call.

But not you, no. Slowly, you rise onto your feet and put your head on a swivel. Not everyone is here. Not everyone has been reconnected.

“Where’s Spider?” You ask, under your breath at first before his absence fully hits you. “Where’s Spider?!”

Kiri gets on her feet herself and a cry shatters out of her chest. She takes a step towards you, shaking and trembling as she reaches out.

“They took him,” she sobs. “They took him.”

As Kiri crashes into you, you feel all the breath evacuate your lungs as if you’ve been hit so hard your chest has concaved. You grip onto her, weeping and crying and gasping so harshly you feel as if you will never be able to breathe again.

A hand comes to your head and you feel yourself and Kiri being tugged into a firm chest. “Hey, it’s alright, babygirls. He’s a tough kid. Shh, shh. He’s gonna be okay,” Jake comforts and shushes, hooking his chin over the tops of your heads as he pulls you in tight.

“We’re all gonna be okay.”

But you do not believe that for one second. You can not all be okay because you are not all together, you are not all safe. Your brother has been captured by the very people who destroyed this land and population decades prior. Nothing is going to be okay. Not everyone is going to be alright.

And the solution decided for this problem only reinforces that for you.

[ununotter]

I kinda wanna write something up properly reflecting on my time at Japanese language school but the main thing I've learned from being here has probably been how I best learn a language and what I'm going to keep using to continue studying after I leave, especially since I signed up for the N3 in December.

Not that I'm an authority on learning Japanese in any way but in case these help someone else I figure I'll make a list of what I'm finding most useful (w web/Google Play links where applicable!) as learning resources. Just an NB for anyone looking for recs, I have ended up paying for most of these services either for additional unlocks or just because they are fully paid but most do at least offer some functionality or a free trial so you can check them out and decide if you also find them worthwhile.

Kanji

I like apps on my phone for this and what I'm using at the moment to prep for kanji tests at school is Kanji Dojo since it lets me create custom lists that can include individual kanji or full words including compound kanji and okurigana and I can set it to review my word lists with writing practise since we get tested on writing kanji not just recognising them (for me these are two _very_ different things and just know I envy you if you can remember how to correctly write a more complex kanji from memory without practising it like crazy beforehand).

On a similar vein, I also really like Kanji Study although its main shortcoming is that you can't add full words to custom lists for writing practise, it's just individual characters. But otherwise I really like all the features and the fact that it as an additional library beyond just the JLPT kanji lists.

If you don't feel the need to learn stroke order/writing then I think the undisputed king of kanji learning is probably Wanikani since it really focuses on teaching you how to see complex kanji in terms of radicals also gives you a lot of vocab on the side. Speaking of which:

2. Vocab

So if you can look up a word for something once and just remember it, great, but if you're like me and have to encounter a word a few hundred million times before it forms a solid part of your instinctive vocabulary then you can't go wrong with plugging into an SRS system regularly. I feel like Anki is the big dog in this space but personally I came to Kitsun first via getting the premium version of it bundled with another service I'll mention later and I really like its web UI. But whichever, really. I know you can add existing lists to your library or make your own custom ones with both of these so solid options.

I'll also note here that both of the services I'm about to discuss in relation to grammar also have vocabulary learning systems on the side, but I particularly like being able to make custom decks for mined vocab really easily using Kitsun (the card generation tool that lets you hook right into Jisho.org's database is very helpful).

3. Grammar

What I've loved most about language school is having teachers explain Japanese grammar points in terms of whatever Japanese we already understand. So while the services that I'm going to list next give text based explanations in English, I also like to try to find YouTube videos where the usage and nuance of grammar is explained in simple Japanese and plenty of examples are given.

I mainly use these because on top of getting an understanding of the grammar point that way, if I want to actually be able to use the grammar smoothly and correctly myself I have to get used to, for example, putting the verbs in the right form on the fly - so again good SRS systems that will drill me on that kind of thing are a real necessity for me.

Currently, I think Bunpro has the most complete grammar library in terms of JLPT coverage however I do think it's worth mentioning what I think is probably their main competition in this space: MaruMori. MaruMori is still adding N3 content and I don't think has anything for N2 or N1 yet at all but given the speed of their development and the amount of features they already have not to mention what is on the roadmap I feel comfortable giving them a rec. The overall style might be on the cutesier, more casual side but I have to say I do actually find the conversational and humourous style of their grammar explanations more engaging and less dry than Bunpro's.

[corallapis]

hello!! sorry, i just finished watching new who and i am DYING for more thoschei content. i know classic who has more obviously but i heard there are like also books and audio dramas and comics and infinite other stuff (?) and i was wondering if you could recommend like a list of things to stream in order to get to know more of these two idiots (affectionate) as i am a bit lost in between all the content. or if you could point out a source where i can look that up for myself, it would be great as well! thank you so much in advance <3 and sorry if this seems silly i am v new to the fandom rip

hey anon!! no need to apologize, i'm honored this ask ended up in my inbox! :) and it's not silly at all, there's a LOT of stuff out there. which is wonderful! but can def be a bit bewildering, too.

i'd definitely recommend classic who as a place to start! don't feel like you need to go in headfirst w/ s1e1 tho. just jump in wherever interests you! if you'd like a slightly more curated d/m list:

terror of the autons/the mind of evil/the claws of axos: okay, so it was almost impossible for me not to just rec “all the three & delgado eps,” so have the first three & feel free to continue on if you find yourself loving them (you will)

the keeper of traken/logopolis/castrovalva: a proper lil trilogy of stories that gives us four -> five & beevers -> ainley

survival: the final dw ep! seven & ainley 😼

for some not-really-classic but still on-screen essentials:

the tv movie: aka “the enemy within.” eight & roberts 🐍

scream of the shalka: an animated webcast that at one point rly was the canonical ninth doctor. shalka!doctor (r. e. grant) & shalka!master (jacobi. yes, again. or previously, rather.)

the curse of fatal death: a comic relief sketch written by moffat which features a het version of d/m getting together romantically (now why does that sound familiar?)

for audios, here's a couple that are both standalone & very d/m-focused:

master: seven & beevers. a great audio ft. an origin story that is probably one of the most talked abt things on tumblr, so def check this one out!!

the last line: ten & jacobi. when you're on trial, who do you call for help? your best enemy, of course

blood of the time lords: four & dreyfus. a must-include for me personally bc it has one of my fave d/m concepts ever :)

for books, once you're in the deep end all the novelizations of the classic d/m eps can have great tidbits. some original story recs:

the dark path: two & “koschei.” another origin story that gave us that name for a pre-master master, written by our d/m comrade-in-arms david mcintee

harvest of time: three & delgado working together & confronting the past w/ a lovely dose of master angst

the infinity doctors: infinity & the magistrate <3. don't let these names or its timeline placement intimidate you, just go into it with the idea that this is an au (ish) where the doctor & the master both returned to gallifrey & you'll enjoy yourself!

and finally some comics:

flashback: another origin story which i've uploaded here :)

the eleventh doctor year two: the eleventh doctor confronts the time war ft. my fave lil guy the war child master!

doctor who: missy: aka “the master plan.” missy breaks delgado out of stormcage while pretending to be a version of the doctor he hasn't met yet

hopefully these will get you started! for even more, the main resource i use when looking for d/m stuff is the theory timelines for the master & the master's incarnations on the wiki! i just poke around & click links until i find something that sounds interesting! enjoy!!! :)

[themsthenow]

Ok so this is kinda a tutorial but not really cause I don't recommend doing some of the things I did, cause it's not safe.

The pic on the right is 1 out of 12 thingys I cut out of ply wood

I used a saw to cut them out.

you could probably just use something slightly wider than a regular lollipop stick to get the overhang , like the free wooden utensils at a cafés.

You'll probably need 2 or 3 if so for each finger joint

The claws were cut out of some board I found in my house, but a clipboard should probably work, maybe double up just incase idk.

I don't recommend getting a knife and hammering out the outline of each individual claw thing, a scissors should hopefully be enough.

I dont have a photos of:

1. drilling holes into each end of all of the stick joints(the black dots were holes I burned, until my wood burner died, they're also held together with bent nails)

2. Cutting out the board for the palm part where my hand is

3. Taking a bunch of clothes pegs for the springs to attach the fingers to said palm board using a long piece of metal? To hold it like the bent nails, you could probably just use a skewer

4. Tying wires like a cm apart from the drilled holes(you can't really see it in the image) to thread string through, so it can move the joints when pulled, you can see the twisted part on the outside of the finger joints, once they're tight just flatten them into the joint and put hot glue over them so they don't catch on anything like your clothes or skin

5. Gluing a foam sheet and elastic band to the palm board

6. Gluing the half pegs on to the outside of each of the finger joints so they don't go backwards

I added another Layer of foam to the board to cover the elastic and the painted them.

There was a lot of trial and error (and hot glue) trying to get these things to not overlap when moving them but they work now

Hopefully this helps someone somehow, be careful and stuff

Each finger joint was made with 2 lollipop sticks and 1 ply wood cut out thing, with the ply wood thing hany out . The holes were put in at both ends

The wires on the joints can be any type, I think, as long as its sticks

The claws and hand board can be made out of layered clipboard(probably)

I used acrylic paint, idk if it matters though

When drilling or burning the hole be careful, for both your safety and not breaking the lollipop sticks

Idk if the bent nails could be replaced with anything. Wooden skewers?

The thread I used is actually fishing wire because it's thin, strong and passes smoothly between the joints

Soo for 2 hands

Lollipop sticks x 24, bring spares

Ply wood cut outs/ an alternative x12

Clipboard board cut outs of claws x6

Pully wire /fishing wire

Craft Foam x1 sheet

Clothes pegs x12

Nails /an alternative x12

A bit of elastic fabric

Paint

A glue gun with lots of glue sticks

A SAFE way to cut out everything

A SAFE way to drill the holes

[0rczy]

ORCZY'S FAN FICTION RECOMMENDATIONS

For following Fandoms: Varian and the 7 kingdoms, Lego monkie kid, JRWI riptide

Hi there! I tought I would share some of my favourite fanfictions I've read since April last year, as sort of a recap and also recommendations. These are all longer stories btw, ranging from 78K to  236K words. Hope you find something that piques your interest :D

If you have any other recommendations, PLEASE share them, I'd love to read more from these fandoms.

VAT7K

-Varian's Tangled Trials by IFoundYouJustineTime and TheArtistsMuse A complete Vat7k story adapting the original creators' plot points into an amazing, 24 chapters (episodes) long fic that reads like an actual cartoon. If you're new to Vat7k or Tangled The Series, or even if you haven't seen the latter (like me), you WILL enjoy this. If you like a fun adventure with a bunch of nerds as a found family, this is for you.

-What Summer Meant to You -If I Really Hated you (and I really, really do) both by Battybatzgirl First one's a battle of the bands/modern AU, second is an AU where the boys are rival engineers, both focusing on the ship Varigo. The writing style is what made me stay and read these to the end. Incredibly funny and entertaining to read, the way Varian and Hugo are characterised is just. So good. If you like a well written, lighthearted, romantic comedy, this is for you. (Both include some skippable adult scenes, but the story is much more about the romance)

-Making End's Meet by Meltthepoint As the author's name suggest, this is a melting point (Donella x Ulla) story, set in a modern setting. Donella enrolls Hugo into this new school, who then befriends Varian. Ulla and Donella meet again. This is about how two women make up and start anew after their lives went into directions they didn't want. The story is much more character focused, a really fun read. Very insightful about the women's characters. An exception, as I still haven't finished reading it. Definitely not the type of fic I can binge read, but I'm really enjoying it.

At the end of everything by Squirrelflight A Night in the woods AU (haven't played the game, you don't have to, to read it), and unfinished as of yet, but man. Worth checking out! Unlike the stories above, this one's definitely darker and has a really tense aura. Love it. The writing is so good it makes me so thrilled about what will happen next! I also really like, once again, the characterisation.

LMK

-You can stay here by KALL A pre canon story about how Pigsy and Tang adopt MK, how MK gets to be in a safe environment and starts figuring himself out. Great writing style, entertaining plot, what more could I ask for? (maybe an update lol) As of yet, unfinished, and hasn't been updated since late 2022. The author actually posted ( https://www.tumblr.com/its-kall-the-clown/735524530668371968/are-you-going-to-be-updating-any-fics-on-your-ao3 ) about wanting to rewrite the story sometime. Which is great! In case you're reading this, take as long as you want!

-A garden across our collarbone by PittedPeaches Spicynoodle soulmate AU where what you write, or in MK's case, draw on your skin, appears on the soulmate's skin as well. Red Son's journey of (very slowly, this is a slowburn) falling in love with MK. A lot of inner monologues, the story plays out more like a retelling of what happened from Red Son's perspective. Kind of like a diary entry and I LOVE IT. I actually didn't understand the pairing before reading this, nor was I that invested in Red Son's character. This fic changed everything. (it also sends you good luck if you read it on the train! I acquired: friends!)

RIPTIDE

-BREAKING FREE! by earlgray_milktea A fish 'n chips Highschool Musical AU (another thing I haven't seen, you don't need to, to read this). The writing is so undoubtedly Disney, it is at times so over the top dramatic, you can't help but smile at half the interactions. The charm is big on this one. The characters are exagerated but somehow not (completely) out of character. Basically if Riptide was on Disney, this is exactly how they'd act. Also it's just really, really cute.

-Depths of Natarus by goldpines Chip Mermaid AU set in an Undersa/Oversea war, focusing on Fish n Chips as well as Jay Ferin (my girl!). Two reasons why you should read this right now. First: the descriptions are SO detailed and immersive! It made me also kinda have a crush on Gillion Tidestrider. How. Second: it made me care about Jay. And the way she's written here is just so so great. You can tell the author knows what they're doing, the feels just keep coming, I alost teared up multiple times. This story makes you feel a lot of emotions at once, an overall amazing reading experience.

And these were my favs since last April. Specifically the ones that made me go absolutely insane. In a good way. Again, if you have any good recommendations (preferably longer stories, but shorter ones are also fine), please feel free to share them.

Thank you for reading this, if you did :D

[bestworstcase]

it is so sad to ruby not even being able to pick up her weapon, afraid she'll lose something again

ooh hm. tbh that’s not how i read her aversion to crescent rose? (if your reading here is that she’s anxious about losing her weapon again.) especially in light of how things went down in perils—she ran out of jaune’s house without it, she froze with it cradled in her arms when the fighting started, she had trauma flashbacks, she couldn’t bring herself to fire a single shot, and she flinched away when jaune tried to put it back in her hands. like… crescent rose represents so much of who she is, crescent rose was her baby, but it’s also intricately entangled with Being a Huntress and that’s something ruby clearly doesn’t want to be anymore.

there’s some emotional thorniness in how ruby kept reflexively reaching for crescent rose when she didn’t have it, and the distress its absence caused then—& of course she grabs it before taking off, so it’s not like she wants to ditch it altogether—but i think what ruby’s struggling with fundamentally is crescent rose not feeling like it’s truly *hers* anymore.

it’s become a burden. it’s the yoke of her leadership. it’s all the expectations piled on her shoulders that she desperately wants to be free of. and this new association is overpowering and alienating her from crescent rose emotionally. (and this was reinforced by not having it on her—when ruby met the blacksmith she was already halfway to thinking of crescent rose in the past tense. “i already have a weapon. or… i did.”)

also, intermixed with that i think ruby has been profoundly traumatized by the experience of being a huntress in and of itself. which has been building for a long time—since beacon fell, really—but it’s catching up to her *now* partly because of the acute trauma of the evac battle and partly because she had this brief window where she didn’t have her weapon and that meant she didn’t have to fight.

like ruby’s never really gotten rescued before? not since she enrolled at beacon. even in situations like mountain glenn where she needed saving, that saving took the form of rushing in and tossing her weapon back to her so she could join the fight. whereas in the space of just a few hours in the ever after, ruby was genuinely rescued and protected by the cat three times! (and then the cat fucked off right before she had crescent rose sprung on her again.)

and i think that made some things… coagulate a bit. ruby wanted to be a huntress because she liked fighting grimm! she was great at it! but the reality of being a huntress for her has been that she’s mostly fighting other people, and her friends keep dying, and every time she gets knocked down she hears someone shouting “get up! we need you!” and she doesn’t know what she’s doing and everyone wants her to save them and if anything goes wrong it’s HER FAULT but also everybody expects her to be able to somehow do the impossible and kill an immortal adversary (<- nora all but says this outright in a night off, “maybe someone else could [destroy salem],” significant glance at ruby) which her own mother who everyone says was THE BEST! couldn’t do, and every time she tries to say she’s not okay she gets another fucking pep talk.

and then. in the ever after. she gets the cat intervening to protect her. she gets the herbalist’s trial telling her you don’t have to. she gets the blacksmith inviting her to lay a burden down. and then she gets jaune and her teammates dumping crescent rose and all the responsibility it represents back into her lap with celebratory fanfare followed by scolding when She Can’t Do It.

like that’s. a lot, emotionally. and crescent rose is inextricably linked to all this seething, hitherto repressed trauma that’s bubbling up now bc she can’t hold it in anymore. she Doesn’t Want To Be A Huntress Anymore.

[mangi-is-struggling]

How i self-study

This is by no means a method of its own nor is it a guideline. This is simply what works for me and gets the brain juice boiling. It's been a lot of trial and error to get to a comfy place where I feel able to retain informations.

Audio!!! Most of the time, the language I've chosen is extremely auditory pleasing to me so it's a win/win situation : I get to listen to my target language w/o visual distractions and my brain soaks up the speech patterns, the flow and the overall expressiveness of the language. I love starting the day with a podcast while I make my coffee and get ready. Even if I only understand about a bazillionth of the whole thing.

In that same vein, any kind of audiovisual content. Movies, dramas, series, documentaries, News channel, ytb vlogs etc. I turn on the subtitles and try to figure out basic patterns. My latest game has been "Spot as many 是's, pronouns and 不' s as you can" when watching chinese movies. I never hesitate to pause the movie and go back a few seconds. It's literal hell for the people watching with me but I don't care. Furthermore, I get an insight on the different speech patterns (the news anchor does not speak the same way as the main character does in the sci-fi movie...). Audiovisual media does take up more energy to process so i usually save it for the evening, when I know i can use up the remainder of my brain power and go to sleep right after.

Learning-specific content. And by that I mean textbooks I bought, free online courses, websites and YouTube teachers, for the most part. I take notes on another notebook. I try and make my notes as simple as possible. I rephrase everything and try and make it as palatable as possible. I keep in mind that my notes should make at least a tiny bit of sense to someone who has never tried to learn my target language. I tweak the phrases around to make them really easy to understand, as i am not the best with grammar.

I stick vocabulary post-it's on my belongings. My bed has 2 post-it's. One has 침대 on it and the other has 床 [chuáng].

I'm not comfortable with the whole "keep a journal in your target language" spiel yet so i usually stick to parroting sounds i like, even if i don't understand what i'm saying. A while ago i learned how to say "my cat is small" in mandarin and i've been saying it out loud a lot since.

I must also be transparent with you guys : I am very bad at consistency and long term effort, so my progress is slow and i'm nowhere near fluent. I actually have no idea how good of a learning method this is.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to realize right after posting it i forgot about something very important but it's okay. I'll just edit the post.

Hope this helps !

See ya ★

[dustyratt]

Hey I hope you’re doing okay! Ive been stalking your page for a while! I’m in the same process of making a visual novel! I was wondering how you do the AI+Sims 4 without it looking you know jacked up! Would love to know your progress!

Hold your hats everyone, i'll be explaining in details...

I was quite sceptical about AI previously. It felt like I'm being replaced with something monstrous, artificial - the imitation of life that's superior me on every single parameter. The sudden sting of a guilt for years of seemingly vain trials and tribulations. Was it all just for nothing? I believe everyone of us came to that question sooner or later. But here I stand telling you how to make a machine fulfill your demands.

First thing. The machine loves precise. From my personal experience, a better formed human wish grants a better machinery result. A less formed wish gives it a choice. Think beforehand, seek the patterns (keywords) that may help you sustain the artstyle throughout the workflow.

Tell the AI what it needs to do. Give it a reference image and explain how you want it to be changed. For example, I want this alien dude becoming a:

"A visually ominous face of an eyeless humanoid creature. This divine image, resembling a digitally rendered painting, showcases the ancient Egyptian god of chaos in detail: sharp chin and cheekbones, dark gray and beige skin, shimmering with pulsating rainbow hues, blood is visibly circulating under his translucent, cadaverous skin. His mouth with tightened teeth grins menacingly. The overall composition is dynamic and captivating, evoking a sense of fear, malevolent power and impending chaos". That will be my prompt. If you're lacking skills then put your hands on other's results, copy their prompts and reshape according to your needs.

Oh. Not so eyeless. Let's give it less of a free will shall we?

Better now! Sadly the eyes are in place, as you can see it is not perfect even with precise input. Now let's make about 5-10 generations with same settings. It may take time to pass a cooldown after you'll run out of tokens, so be patient. If you have absolutely no spare money to buy a decent amount of generations (or if the transactions themselves are banned in your country 👍) and your enthusiasm is on pathetically vigorous level join me on free trial option almost any of the AI sites provide. That is fair exchange - money or your time.

You get what I mean? It could be anything shaped into another anything. Put here your sim, order a nice shot - here you go! Make something out of nothing with the power of words. Make a human being... some kind of.

Hooray! Not only we have the result we craved for but a whole bunch of reusable high-quality textures of various nature.

Our next step: we go in a deep dark lair of creator's mind. Hm-m, I'd correct here and there, erased that part and attached that one... Now we play "compile your Frankenstein out of everything that is not in its place". Of course a machine is not yet on the level where there wouldn't be a possibility to distinct its presence. So to hide these little (big, actually) inconsistencies we use a power of photo editing. Grab your software. With the power given to you by the sense of vision eliminate the overgrowing fingers and fight back mutilated teeth clumps.

Meet my favourite one hundred percent AI generated method. Generate a simple low quality image free and effortlessly (I use Craiyon, the perfect weapon)

Let another AI add the details for you. Catches the concept just great. Though it does not mean no handiwork after.

You can stylize it even further. Here you can see AI generated monster dudes crispy pixelated after a luxurious tour into pixelart AI. Good thing for a pixel indie gamestyle.

So, that's it. The secret is basically in your own hands. Acknowledge the style of your game, follow it while generating contents and patch up the AI mistakes.

+ zero investments

+ compensation for a lack of skills / hardware

+ easy to use

- even more work than if you would do all the same without AI

- straight dependence on sites / chat-bots, etc.

- time consuming

- many limitations (forget this if you're not on a free subscription... wait a second that abolish the first plus too!)

Hope it was helpful!

[goingsparebutwithprecision]

Five Ships In Five Fandoms

Thanking @tallangrycockatiel for the tag!

Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Teen Wolf

What can I say about them that hasn't been said a thousand times before by people more eloquent than I. A classic. The ultimate comfort ship.

Cyrano/Roxane/Christian, Cyrano De Bergerac

Cannot overstate the hold these three have on my heart! One of the most excruciating canon endings of all time. I can think about them endlessly. Just rotating them forever in my mind. The Cyrano/Christian kiss from the National Theatre 2022 production lives rent free in my brain. If I loved them less I might be able to talk about them more etc etc.

Lord Peter Wimsey/Harriet Vane, the Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries

One of the slowest burns of all time. Starts with absolute clownery, the tragedy in the absurd of asking a woman on trial for the murder of her previous lover to marry you, continues with the spikiest most resentful discoveries of drift compatibility, the get-together comprises an entire book's worth of meditations on gratitude (the hatefulness thereof), inequality of gender class and intellect, whether intellectual honesty is more important than romantic loyalty (and/or one's continued ability to feed oneself), musical metaphors for relationship dynamics (anybody may have the harmony if they leave us the counterpoint!!!!!), and of course the massive continuity of ducks.

Cliopher Mdang/Fitzroy Angursell, Nine Worlds

OK actually maybe i take it back, strongest contender for slowest burn of all time??? In that these fuckers have been dancing around each other for something close to 10 000 years (not a joke not an exaggeration time is fucky here). Although tbf. Tbqf&h. To be brutally Frank and Esme. I'm not sure I count those 10 000 years in that we (the readers) were not actually there to witness that. But still. Where do I even start with these two.

That feeling when you've been installed as a puppet-god-king against your will for over a hundred years unable to choose your food or drink, experience sunlight, or touch another person (because if you do they will literally and immediately immolate because of magic curses) and although this would be cruel to do to anyone it is particularly cruel to do to you, nameless child and infamous anarchist poet revolutionary whose work shook the empire to its very foundations, and then you are finally sent a competent secretary who proceeds to steal your empire out from under you, dismantle it completely, institute universal basic income, universal housing, universal education, fix the post office, provide you with ships that fly?!?!, audit all of your government offices until every single speck of corruption is gone, end a world war and prevent there from every being another one, and all the while is humming your most treasonous song cycle under his breath for fully ten thousand years. Oh and then he also journeys into myth and legend, through sky ocean to the house of the sun, essentially to barter fire from the gods, because he thinks he's not good enough for you.

Also such a wonderful nuanced portrayal of an ace/queerplatonic/this relationship-is-what-we-decide-it-is-but-the-most-important-thing-is-that-you're-it-for-me relationship. It's very queer. They're working it out as they go. It will break your heart and heal your heart. I cannot even.

Thara Celehar/Iana Pel-Thenhior, Cemeteries of Amalo

Another they are taking it so so slowly and I am all about it. There's a theme here somewhere I just know it. Sad wet cat detective man with life-destroying trauma talks to dead people, stray cats and this one guy who writes riot-causing opera and very gently invites him to dinner occasionally and helps him solve murder cases. We are two books in and they've only just a) held hands once and b) started using informal you to refer to each other. It's exquisite, I'm in hell.

No pressure tagging @ereborne @july-19th-club @morkaischosen @trans-cuchulainn and anyone else who's interested :)

[cerastes]

By the way, have you seen/reacted to the news, re, Gundam Evolution shutting down? It's not the most surprising thing in the world, but it's still kind of a shame. (At least we're getting the Zeta gundam in august)

Yeah, I saw.

I hate to say this about a game I enjoy but the signs were there and I was very much expecting the End of Service news for a few weeks before it happened. The player pool was so small that I kept getting the same people over and over on Quick Match practically every time I played. I did not manage to get into a single Ranked Match, ever.

The thing with Gundam Evolution is that it does not give you almost any incentive to play other than liking the game a lot, but even then I don't think the game lends itself to be something a lot of people will want to earnestly play just for fun. I need to elaborate on this, because as you well know, I'm a huge advocate for playing games because they are fun and that a game's main focus should be to be entertaining first and everything else second. Why would I think, then, that this was a negative when it comes to GunEvo?

Well, GunEvo took the Overwatch format of Hero Shooter With Unlockables... But it failed to implement any of the overarching things that made Overwatch stick with you until you really got into the guts of it and played it for fun: GunEvo fails to make a sticking impression.

Loathe it or like it, the lootbox system of Overwatch had a practical effect on the user experience besides trying to drive up sales: Every time you level up, you get something, and in between games where you don't level up, you get to be one step closer to another reward, potentially a big one. The fact that these are ever-present gives an incentive to the average player that they'll be able to get something new, so even if they are still not fully sold on the game's mechanics or are still struggling to get to the point where it seems natural to them and they want to just play the game because it's a good game, the allure of more rewards is always there. Ranked also allowed you to play with people that were trying to play at a higher level, around your own level of play, so that was always a fun option as well, with its own special rewards.

This doesn't cover all there is to it, but as a baseline, it lets us understand something GunEvo lacks: Any sort of rewards that aren't drip-fed, really. Once you complete the beginners' trials and get their rewards, your ONLY way to get rewards is that every couple of levels (not every level, every couple), you'll get a single pull for cosmetics (not even playable Mobile Suits (characters)), and there's also the battle pass, which as usual, comes in free and premium flavors, which, if you're not premium, only has rewards every 3 or 4 tiers. And there's no real extra incentive to play Ranked, like unique rewards or anything, so a lot of people just... Don't. It's a desert in there.

There's very little incentive to play other than liking the game, and that in itself wouldn't be bad, if the game wasn't so insistent on shoving on your face all the stuff you're missing. THIS is where it goes from "well, obviously, I'm going to play a game because I like it" to "oh, yeah, alright". Bandai Namco is one of the greediest companies, and they know that Gundam fans are quick to open their purses, so every damn time they make a Gundam game of any sort, you know it's going to have some sort of twisted monetization strategy, and GunEvo is no different: Every match, every menu, every log in, every time you go equip something new, every time you even want to collect what few rewards they give out, every single time, they take the chance to rub on your face all that you don't have and won't have unless you grind for years unless you're willing to spend.

Are they the first to do so? No. And that's a factor, in my opinion: People have just gotten more and more tired and less forgiving of this, especially when the game doesn't even have the decency of rewarding you every couple of matches with some sort of new minor trinket or color, when practically all other games of the genre do. And, man, in the West, the Gundam IP is NOT strong enough to drive such slavedriver design philosophy, the kind that expects you to, at face value, tolerate having all sorts of premium goods rubbed on your face that you and they know people will defend in the vein of "oh, but you don't NEED to pay, you can just get that all for free, provided you play daily for years".

Without knowing the devs themselves, I think GunEvo's demise is fully the fault of Bandai Namco and not the development team of the game: They made a good, fun game. But they unfortunately work for Bandai Namco, well known for making greedy games that are honestly fun but ultimately crash because they are so immensely aggressive in their monetization and how much you're not ever going to get in a reasonable amount of time if you don't pay. I don't think the game was shallow in the slightest, but neither was it truly deep, and with the constant look at all the stuff you'd never feasibly get, yeah, I can see people just not wanting to deal with it unless they really vibed with the gameplay, with a Gundam game, or a mix of both. And we have to talk about the fact that it was and still is region locked for a lot of places, lol.

So in the end, we have 400 concurrent players and we know each other by face and name. Some will tell you this is "comfy", I will tell you it's telltale that a developer somewhere in Japan is soon to be called into an office and be told that they have to shut down all operation of the game before the year ends.

[fangirlshrewt97]

A Dream Come True

You know, it’s been a minute since I wrote for RamBheem. And @umbrulla shared the most adorable/delightful drawing recently that really set my gears turning. 

I originally envisioned this as a comedic drabble, but predictably perhaps, it became super mushy instead. 

Warning: This is set in an A/B/O world, but its as family friendly as can be. Just didn’t want to blindside you...

Still, I hope you guys like it!

///

Ram hums as he pats Hathrini's back, a steady beat that turns into a caress when she finally burps. He smiles as he feels her small nose twitching against his neck as she rubs her petal-soft cheeks against his scent gland. Caressing upwards, Ram rubs his thumb in a circular motion in the back of her skull.

He shifts her, so she is laying in the middle of both his arms, parallel to each other as he gently curls and uncurls his arms. The motion makes her lips twitch in a smile as her eyes blink slowly, halfway to falling asleep. Ram coos as her when she reaches up to grab at his hair.

"I think that's enough playing, my little talli." Ram tells her. He places her in his lap, jiggling one knee to rock her. When she yawns, he presses the side of his index finger to the bottom of her chin, closing her mouth for her. She blinks at him.

Ram kisses her hair, a dense layer of raven curls that immediately make obvious who her father is.

His heart feels so full nowadays, especially in the moments when his daughter is in his hands. The past few months, no, years, before her birth had been an unending series of trials and tribulations, miseries and unforgivable actions. But against all odds, for reasons he cannot fathom, yet is deeply indebted to, Ram has somehow managed to get a happy life. With a mate who adores him, and a daughter he loves beyond comprehension, with friends who are loyal to them, and their cause.

Of course, the fight is ongoing, and now more than before, Ram knows it is imperative that India be free.

Hathrini deserves to grow up in a land that is not being crushed under the heels of foreigners who think they have a right to it.

The baby mewls, turning to rub her face against his thigh, face scrunching at the feel of cloth in the way. Ram huffs. "Come now, amma, you have already had your dinner. Go to sleep."

He shifts her so she is laying pressed to his chest where his shirt is unbuttoned. At the feeling of warm skin beneath her, the baby settles.

Ram cups the back of her head as he tilts his head back. He is sitting up against the wall of their hut, on their old mattress and worn pallet. The village is quiet as everyone retires for the night, and from the shifting curtains by the doorway that are swaying with the breeze, he can make out the night shift sentries heading to the lookout post.

Ram and Bheem had had several discussions about whether to set up their home in the village or a little away, with Bheem saying Ram would feel more comfortable with the privacy they could get. But Ram had argued that Bheem's duties would be best fulfilled if he was near his people, and ultimately won him over.

Speaking of Bheem… Ram opened his eyes when he heard the patter of familiar footsteps cross over the threshold.

As always, Ram's heart skipped a beat as he drank in the sight of his mate. When Ram had first met Akthar, something inside him had woken up, and as they had spent those weeks together, that…thing, it had yearned. Yearned for this man who he could never be with, for so many reasons, not the least being his life was not his to give, but one pledged to a cause he could not fail. And yet. He had been weak, and selfish, and let himself have one night.

When the stars align, one night is all it takes isn’t it?

After ascending to pleasures he had never known, everything had been ripped away by the cruelest of circumstances. When he was given the “honour” of punishing the Alpha who had dared to stand up against the Britishers, it was also with the idea of adding another layer of humiliation for Bheem, being forced to kneel for an Omega. Ram had bled that day, but could not shed any tears, because he did not deserve it. He had been the one inflicting the whip, what right did he have to pain?

After everything though, Bheem had accepted him anyways. Not because he was with his child. He had accepted Ram.

Bheem carefully stowed away all his weapons before unwinding his turban. He stripped out of the rest of his clothes, removing his waist sash, kurta, and dhoti, leaving him in his brown loin-cloth.

At times Ram would pinch himself discreetly, just to ensure this was his life, and not a fantasy his brain conjured up as he lay dangling from shackles, awaiting a noose that would send him and his child to doom. Other times, he felt such a tidal wave of gratitude and love crash into him, he thought he would drown. And many times, he would feel pride, because that was his mate. So strong and broad, with a heart the size of the world, and a light that would never let Ram feel the cold, or solitude ever again.

Ram met his gaze with a fond smile, head still tilted against the wall. Bheem's answering smile felt bright enough to mimic the sun.

"And how are the two halves of my heart doing ?" Bheem asked as he walked over to them.

"You say two halves, yet your eyes are only glued to one of us." Ram teased, pointing out how Bheem had not taken his eyes off of Hathrini since he entered, save the one smile.

Bheem shrugged dismissively, getting on the bed and crawling over to the pair. The gold of his nose ring reflected the oil lamp's light. "Did she behave?"

"She always does. When she isn't trying to copy her father's roaring at the top of her lungs." Ram said wryly.

Bheem's eyes seemed to twinkle as he stopped scant inches from them, instead opting to lean forward to look at their baby. "She's amazing."

Ram took in the profile of this tiger of a man. So much ferocity and protectiveness within him, but looking at him now, he could be confused for a little kid. Ram bit his lip to curb the urge to throw his arms around Bheem. Hathrini would not appreciate the gesture.

"With who her father is, you expected different?"

Bheem's gaze flicked up to him. "Her dame is pretty extraordinary too."

Ram's cheeks reddened as he looked away. Bheem chose the worst times to be suave and charming.

Bheem chuckled, a deep, happy sound that settled into Ram's bones. He reached out one hand to cover Ram's on Hathrini's back. He peeled Ram’s hand away, sliding his own around the baby to carefully lift her. Ram jerked forward, a growl escaping him as Bheem giggled playfully, holding Hathrini close to his face.

"Bheem! I nearly had her down!" Ram complained as Hathrini blinked her eyes open, legs kicking when she realized who was holding her.

"But I haven't played with her in so long Rama!" Bheem replied as he shifted to lie down with his head on Ram's thigh, lifting the baby up as far as his arms would stretch before bringing her back down, and then lifting her again.

Hathrini gurgled happily, fists waving as she reached out for Bheem, only to be lifted into the air before she could grab his beard. Ram's smile twitched, at once adoring the sight of his mate and child playing, as he sighed at all his efforts for bedtime going to waste.

"You played with her two nights ago." Ram pointed out.

"Exactly. So long!" Bheem exclaimed as he brought his daughter close enough to rub his nose against hers in a motion that made her laugh delightedly.

"You're a menace." Ram said as he starting carding his fingers through Bheem's hair, his free hand laying on Bheem's shoulder.

Bheem winked at him as he turned, bringing Hathrini down to also lay her against Ram's thigh. He gave her his index finger which she grasped tightly, immediately bringing it to her mouth to suck on. "Such a strong grip."

Ram hummed, rubbing two knuckles against Hathrini's cheek. "Just like you."

Bheem pulled the fist holding his finger to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Hathrini gazed up at him wide-eyed, like he was the wonderful thing she had seen. Ram could understand.

"Her eyes are just like yours though. I'm glad." Bheem said as he brushed his thumb against her cheek. Ram’s cheeks flamed.

He tightened his grip on Bheem's hair, and when he looked at his mate, his figure blurred from the tears that had gathered at the corner of his eyes.

Bheem smiled kindly at him. Looking at their child, he cooed. "Looks like I tired her out."

Hathrini was fast asleep, sucking her thumb as she lay sprawled between them. Ram made to get up, but Bheem pressed his hand to his thigh. "I'll do it."

Bheem rolled out of bed, standing to receive the baby from Ram, and turned to place her inside the saree-cradle they had tied  next to their bed. He gripped the saree about halfway down, gently shaking it so it started to rock on it's own. Once he were sure Hathrini was not going to wake up, he let go of the saree. He then went to the oil lamp, extinguishing the flame before finding his way back to their bed in the dark.

Ram waited where he was, eyes closed as the world around him fell dark. “Did you have dinner?”

Bheem hummed. “Yes, before we crossed the river. Gayathri Akka had packed some food for us.”

Ram nodded, covering his mouth as he yawned. He went to shift down the bed, only to instead find himself yanked towards Bheem.

“Bheem!” he hissed, but didn’t resist as his mate pulled him onto his lap.

Bheem made a noise of acknowledgement as he smushed his face into the curve of Ram's neck, inhaling deeply as arms wrapped around his waist in an iron grip. "Do you have any idea how good you smell right now?"

Ram sighed, wrapping his own arms around Bheem's shoulders as he buried his nose in Bheem's curls. "I smell like sweat and baby."

Bheem nipped at his jaw, making Ram jump. "You smell like campfire and sweet milk. Like dinner, and Hathrini, and us..."

"Bheema..." Ram whispered as Bheem held him closer.

"I want to roll in your scent, Bangaram. Let’s never be apart for so long again."

Ram squeezed his arms. Bheem’s trip had lasted two days. Missions would come that would keep them apart for longer. They both knew it was an impossible request, but Ram nevertheless wished he could grant it to his mate.  

In the dark, Bheem tilted his head upwards, and Ram obliged by running his nose down Bheem's forehead to kiss Bheem's lips, pausing only to nip at the tip of Bheem's nose.

It was a soft exchange of kisses, the heat and desire banked in the background as they just relished in the presence of their mate in their arms after their brief separation. At some point they tipped over, Bheem ending in the space between Ram's legs as he peppered his face with kisses. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. The moon still stood high in the sky.

Desire started to make itself known when Bheem rolled their hips together, Ram bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut as he swallowed a whine. "Bheema..."

Just then, a quiet mewl broke through the lover’s haze. Ram turned towards the cradle.

Bheem's sigh was more felt than heard as he lifted his face to look at Ram. With their eyes adjusted to the dark, Ram reached up to tuck a stray curl back into place. "I'm sorry..."

Bheem leaned down to nip at Ram's lips. "Nothing to be sorry about, Rama.”

Ram rolled out from under Bheem to pull their daughter out of the cradle, trying to quiet her cries. “Hungry so soon, bangaram?”

Hathrini’s cries were hiccuping as she rubbed her face against Ram’s chest. “Yes, yes, hold on.”

Bheem had left the bed to grab the oil lamp. Ram shot him a smile in thanks as he settled back against the wall, shrugging off the shirt before bringing her up his suckle. He frowned as she didn’t latch, even switching sides.

“She’s not hungry?” Bheem asked.

Ram shook his head. Hathrini started to cry again, and Bheem ruffled her hair. That got her to stop enough to look up at them with teary eyes. Bheem blinked before his face split into a wide grin.

“Is that it, amma? You want to sleep with us?”

“What?” Ram asked, confused. Bheem took Hathrini from Ram, instead laying her in the middle of the bed.

“Come on, Rama, she just wants to sleep with her parents.” Bheem said as he laid down, left arm tucked under his head as he patted her tummy with his right.

Sleep with… Ram’s brows straightened. It had been two days since Bheem had spent the night with them. She had missed their combined scents.

Feeling his heart simultaneously beating rapidly and melting in his chest, Ram laid down in a mirror image of Bheem.

Hathrini’s sobs quietened as she noticed both her parents bracketing her. Ram smiled at her. “Was that all,  my vajrala moota?” Ram asked her.

Hathrini babbled sleepily at him as her eyes fell shut. Bheem giggled on her other side, winking again at Ram.

“Looks like its bedtime for us all.” Ram shook his head in amusement as he settled more comfortably, pressing a kiss to his daughter’s hair. And after a second, he pressed one to Bheem’s as well.

"Good night Bheema."

"Good night my love."

///

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