#which is how their other forms of affection arose

[waitineedaname]

thoughts on the kageyama brothers hug when they were captured in claw arc?!

cuz in my heart i don't think they ever really Touched after That™? but i do think mob and reigen have this whole thing with Casual Hugs and Physical Intimacy and the like between them (a feel for another time) but i can't think of anyone who ritsu could get that comfortable with?? so?? i think it was like he rediscovered what human touch actually felt like at that moment??

anways im just thinking about ritsu coming into mob's room like a week later being like Brother i can not take this anymore i NEED you to do the thing again right NOW:-< and mob just stares at him and ritsu starts gesturing vaguely, but then mob immediately gets it because that's the exact same vague gesture he did when he asked reigen for a hug years ago (<-they are so brothers who share similar mental illnesses)

hhh don't know if this makes any sense ^^ i justthink they deserve to be intimate again

OUUGUHGHAAAHUGH <- sounds of me lighting on fire

I think one of the funniest but also saddest but also most accurate to being thirteen moments that ritsu has is when he's like "I have secretly always hated you, brother. our relationship is OVER" and then the next time they interact, he gets a hug from his brother and immediately breaks down into tears. I love him.

I agree that it's probably been a while for both of them tbh. the kageyama family doesn't seem like the most touchy family, but they probably still got the occasional hug from their parents, but they're at that preteen age where it's less frequent. it's wild to me that I can't think of any times where mob and reigen actually hug, but I think reigen probably gives him little side hugs and shoulder pats and hair ruffles or whatever, but you're absolutely right in that ritsu didn't have anyone for that except his parents after The Incident :( I think after the confession arc, "going back to how things used to be" means they get more comfortable asking for comfort again

[jackietorrance]

Smart Girl

During your childhood to adolescence, you spent hours and hours studying, whether it was school content, or content for some competitions you participated in. While your friends were enjoying your summer vacation doing what, you had your face stuck in some book about algebra or physics.

Your "pastime" was not something you did for the sake of obligation or pressure, or because you could not socialize with people, your passion for this type of entertainment arose from the freedom you had to express yourself. That was the first thing you found comfort.

And well... the second thing happened a few years ahead.

During your time at university, you met Jenna, a girl who sat with you in a class that you two coincidentally shared. Your first conversation began with a complaint coming from Jenna, talking about the absurd amount of duties that the mentors went through, you responded with a simple laugh and a comparison of the amount of your classes with those of Jenna, which were visibly superior, and then you mentioned a scene from some classic movie that Jenna quickly asked if you really liked that genre of movie.

It was this moment that began her approach with Jenna, exchange of phone numbers, an invitation for you two go to the movies, and after a few weeks, she served as a glove on you and you as a ring on her.

During any frustration you were there for each other, whether some mental conflict that was going through, Jenna would think of you to comfort her, whether you had won first place in some competition, the first person you would rush to hug and thank would be Jenna, during any moment of joy you and Jenna would be openly willing to share with each other. Until then, she had already been the best point of comfort and affection you could receive.

But that could get better. Of course you had.

Over time, Jenna began to feel a greater need to be close to you, to touch her, a despair for your presence, how restless she was when you praised her, again and again, oh girl, you really managed to mess with her.

With you it was not so different, you didn't know when you started to have feelings for her, in the end you were very busy trying to find a way to talk to Jenna about it, but when you saw her again, these thoughts disappeared, in an almost imperceptible way, the feeling that you could make your friend feel uncomfortable was one of your great fears. In your relationship with her, Jenna was always the one who spoke the most, you didn't mind letting her stay with you while studying, you understood Jenna's voice as a melody that would be of great company for your cold afternoon.

In a moment, you kept the books at a table, and Jenna stayed in your bed talking about something you couldn't understand the subject, you were very busy distracting yourself from your studies to watching her attentively, every detail of your face, part by part. This was the first time you wouldn't commit a murder If someone interrupted your studies

The big leap of her relationship came from Jenna, who at first seemed a little insecure, but when you held her hand and caressed her palm, she managed to calm down, your warmth being shared to her, how "the ancient peoples felt protected in the Paleolithic" you would say, and so she managed to open up, tell you how much she loved you, How much she wanted her words and humor to be the only kind of fun for her, how much she wanted you to be part of her life, each day closer. “And who knew that two people as different as us would be able to fit into the most perfect form of love?”

-

Now you were at home living in a very frequent scenario since years ago, you sitting in an armchair with Jenna resting on your lap, a caressing session you would say.

“Uh Jen-“ you were studying a short time ago, but let's say Jenna's arrival changed the plans a little. At this moment your girlfriend was kissing your neck. Not that you weren't liking it, but you knew where it was going to go.

You pulled Jenna's chin and left a calm kiss on her lips, "Sweet, I need to finish this essay today".

Jenna rolled her eyes, if they could they would go inside her head., “Ugh, right. Call me when you're done." Jenna said pensive, she got up and walked slowly to the door.

In your defense, you couldn't feel free with Jenna angry, and in the end you didn't mind receiving some sermons from your superior later.

“15 minutes to be able to make you kneel for me." You got up and looked seriously at Jenna, a presumptuous smile covered her face, and Jenna knew she had with her what she craved so much

——————————————————————————————————

Hey, in this story the reader's genre is not so explicit, so you can read it like a gn! Reader.

[horizon-verizon]

Alysanne set Targaryen women back. Had she been less pussy watching her misogynist husband stealing their daughter and granddaughter crown in favor of men and just selling their daughters or sending them away like some rabid dogs (justice for Viserra!)… Oh and helping her brother to steal their sister’s crown (sister who damn near raised them). She pissed me off so bad, she’s going to hell with her nasty ass husband 🙏

Even though this is true in a real sense and she hadn't been fair to her own daughters, even with Gael (when she reasonably had the more breadth to change after losing her other daughters) & even is responsible for one's death, I do also see how tirelessly she worked for women in Westeros and they do have some form of protection from noblemen because of Alicent's "Queen's Laws" (right of 1st night abolished and the Widow's Law). These are meaningful acts, even though they had less impact on Targ women directly than they did on peasant folk and other noblewomen.

Two things can be true at once; she clearly had a lot of power with Jaehaerys but what she most wanted to do--to raise the female heir apparent and have Jaehaerys' naming a girl when that opportunity arose--she found that she hit Jaehaerys' limit(s), saw how little she could do to really negate his power as the king/really understood the consequences of what being a Queen consort meant in terms of the unequal powers and subservience, and I think she was compelled more and more down the years, without really realizing it consciously, to anticipate and shape her own actions, words, and plans around what she knew and felt he'd approve or allow. Which in turn affected how she'd view her daughters and how she'd arrange their lives. We see how she's condescendingly treated by the maesters at Oldtown when she visits when she remarks that she'd like to see female maesters and how Jaehaerys never makes a comment to perhaps back her up. (Condescending because they obviously don't believe that women can be as smart as them even with one clearly being in front of their face; they probably thought of Alysanne as an exception.) ("Birth, Death , and Betrayal"):

It's quite obvious she felt more and more like she had no agency or control to do the actual things she wanted. I feel like there was most likely tiptoeing.

Yeah Jaehaerys said to Viserra that he doesn't interfere with Alysanne's decisions concerning marriages, but he says TWICE that Viserra's marriage to Theomore Manderly would be extremely beneficial to "the Iron Throne" ("Policy, Progeny, and Pain"):

...Alysanne wasn't blind or deaf to this, she herself went North to convince Alaric Stark to be more amicable towards Jaehaerys and was involved in the deal of the New Gift. Alysanne was acting for Jaehaerys' interests and then seemed to justify the wrong by making as if Viserra was disrupting the harmony of the family Alysanne is supposed to have the higher authority over (again, note that she probably felt more of her authority & agency as illusory) as both the mother and the Queen Consort. Her decision to marry Viserra off to Theomore specifically was greatly due to it being what Jaehaerys most wanted.

While she never lost courage to bring up things or confront Jaehaerys completely, she did this less and less over the years. She was always much more limited than Rhaenys, Alyssa Velaryon, & Visenya concerning politics. Perhaps she felt this and-- By how she reacts to the Braxton Beesbury duel and how she progressively gloms onto Gael--she simultaneously opted to distance herself from Jaehaerys more and more without really making big confrontations until it came to the head of Saera running away, Daella dying, Viserra dying...when things are too late.

It's a pattern for sure, but a pattern I think Alysanne didn't feel she could get out of. Ironically, it matches Rhaena's own pattern of being "too late" in regards to Alyssa Velaryon and Aerea Targaryen's deaths. Both of these women seem to burrow into their psychological "safe spaces" or coping mechanisms and eventually harm or isolate themselves from those closest to them because they are compelled to try to preserve the smallest sense of agency their privileges as dragonriding Queens in a dynasty quickly assimilated into Andal patriarchy allows.

So, kinda sure. Yes she was complicit. She made her choices, but those choices were made under social compelled personal compromises. So, not too too much on Alysanne so as to make her equal to Jaehaerys. She wasn't perfect by far and again, was responsible for her kids' deaths (Viserra and Gael and Daella) but she can't be called the same or motivated similarly as Jaehaerys was nor that her actions would have been what they were if she hadn't lived in the misogynist setting with a sexist husband she married at 13 as she did. Another perfectly flawed, misguided female character, one who really wanted to "change the world" but was confined by her gender-exclusive role. She did deserve that "Good Queen" title.

Ironically, one of the only reprieves Viserra would have had if she had married Theomore was the very widow's Law that Alysanne made sure became a thing. A small and perhaps unsatisfactory "compensation", considering. Or a lifeline? Shows us all the more the precarious state of married life for women and girls.

[bestfriend491]

Hateful Love

Okoye x Female Reader

Summary: You and Okoye have a different appraoch to love. One that tends to look like hate when being challenged. Few people see the layers under that. Only the two of you personally know how deep the love runs

Word count: 5.9k

Authors Note: Guess who's back? 🤭

Slightly Angsty, with fluff ending

Warnings: Minor Injury

Subtle Love is an unknown realm full of possibilities. A kind of love that is never talked about. Repeatedly misunderstood and misinterpreted as a lack of love. Though it's often the strongest internal builder of most healthy relationships.  

The average life consists of many forms of love. Puppy Love, Toxic Love, Struggle Love and so on. They all come with their own benefits and detriments. Usually sub- sections of the average love story. 

They all build up to become society’s standard of what love should be. 

Good Love. 

The type of love that comes with romantic grand gestures and constant compatibility. The type of love that comes with no problems. 

But Good Love isn’t real. No relationship comes without problems. And in that same breath, not all problems can be fixed with grand actions. 

It’s the subtle things that matter. The soft kisses of reassurance.. The consistency in trust and honesty. The open nature of the communication with the person, or people in which one has chosen to love. 

Subtle Love is filled with subtle things. Ones that only showed their purpose in the later stages, when families have been established, and the foundation to it all has been put down thoroughly enough to securely be able to deal with troubling situations as one unit. 

It’s the type of love that Redeh didn’t grow up with. 

Her parents, like most, strived to achieve the graceful look of Good Love. With great effort, they tried to make sure that everyone thought that they loved each other. More effort being put into the public persona than in the physical relationship itself. 

It took a toll on them both after years of pretending, resulting in a nasty divorce that lacked reasoning but was filled with resentment. 

By her tenth year of existence, Redeh routinely witnessed the two fighting about anything that their senseless heads could think of. It was a situation that no child should have had to be a part of. A type of love that a kid should never have been exposed to in the first place. 

Before the concept of being alive ever came to be fully grasped, Redeh was a mediator. The devil’s advocate that came between her parents. Never getting an explanation as to how it all fell apart. Only seeing joy followed by immediate sorrow.

It was an unending, thankless job that haunted her childhood and often affected her in her newfound adulthood. It was the one thing that Redeh feared most. Losing the spark that lit under a relationship as soon as an inconvenient problem arose. Even when she wasn’t with a single person, she feared that one thing.

Good Love.

Many people were the same. Witnessing the early signs of Good Love in childhood, never learning how to communicate meaningfully. They learned that the synchronisation that came with being in love only stayed existent as long as problems remained non-existent. And when those problems refused to continue hiding themselves, the relationship turned permanently sour. 

There were thick lines that labelled what healthy relationships consisted of. Ones that Redeh took most of her adolescence learning for her own sake. She tried to memorise all the ways that relationships could work. Every scenario where the lines would possibly be crossed and blurred and how to see other healthy relationships in a positive way.

She often struggled. The trauma that being raised by unloving parents always warping her ability to ever believe that Subtle Love could ever exist. 

The only rolemodels that she had were the movies that she watched. The ones that showed the natural, and sometimes ethically questionable love stories where all the hardships came before the couples would even get together. It taught her that that was the only way to get Good Love. Having all the problems appear at the beginning of it all. 

These movies became her solace. Her safe haven. Her expectation for how she would find her love in the coming years. 

They were also her downfall. The sole reason for her struggle in grasping how love truly worked now that she was no longer in the presence of her parents on a daily basis. 

They were an unrealistic expectation wrapped with a fake ribbon. 

For Good Love did not equate to Concrete Love. Revealing itself to be only another sub-section in the perfect love story. 

Subtle Love was what she craved, but because she had yet to discover that that was an option, she knew of only one love that came with conflict before the final storm.

Hateful Love.

Redeh stood in her all but tall form. Staring at the mirror that captured her in her new uniform. Her Dora Milaje uniform. The uniform that was of the utmost importance to her as she wore it. 

After a decade of not having a clue where life would take her, and another one where all she could think of for her future was the life she’d live as a Dora. She was finally going on her first non-group mission with only her and her successors. 

The news having come only days before; she’d crossed her fingers and hoped that she’d be the one chosen. When her name was called, excitement washed over her and she became fully ready to observe the two best Doras in action. She was  even ready to offer help wherever she could, no matter how nerve wracking it became.

Though nervous, due to not having her fellow new Doras there to help cover her mistakes if needed, she knew that she was right where she needed to be. So she walked. Out of her home and straight to the official Wakandan Hangar by the palace, where unsurprisingly she was the second person there. 

Second to General Okoye. 

“Redeh.” the General spoke, offering her greetings as she looked down at her beads, analysing something on its screen. 

“General Okoye.” she returned, failing to hide her excitement. 

Okoye cracked a smile as she saw her, remembering the first time that she was hand picked from her group to join the more experienced Doras in combat. 

She briefly told the girl what would be expected of her for the day. A threat in some unoccupied land between Wakanda and a neighbouring nation, being the main issue. The queen had offered to investigate in representation of both nations, with a small group of Wakanda's fighters. 

“We’re not fully sure what we're getting ourselves into so make sure that you stay fully aware of your surroundings out there. We won't be able to make sure that you're safe the entire time.”

“Of course. General.” she quickly said, the realisation of how real the situation was having fully set in for her. 

The General nodded, content with her answer. They continued briefly going through everything, up until Ayo showed up, just as serious as Okoye, and ready for what was coming. 

Seeing her 2 biggest inspirations looking at her with full faith and trust put a drive in her that nothing else could. They knew that she had something in her. Surprising Redeh everytime they looked at her. No one else ever had that look. Not even her own self. 

Looking around and walking towards a quinjet like she was ready to go, Okoye was stopped by Ayo, who looked utterly perturbed.

“General wait! Where’s Y/n?” she asked her. 

Redeh stood between the two, having never been aware of you coming with them. Apparently the other two had left that out of her briefing. 

Her heart raced now. You, being one of Wakanda’s best armourers, almost never physically went on missions with the Dora, only supplying them with their best weapons. 

All occasions where you were physically there were well-known missions where you and the General, an extremely powerful couple, worked together to beat the worst of people. What you two had, it was the true definition of Good Love. something she aspired to achieve.  

She watched the other two Adored Ones look at each other, Okoye struggling to make a definite statement about where you were, though she must have been with you earlier. 

Then she started, "She's actually not- " 

“-I'm here!" your voice came from a distance, as you happily made your way to them.

Redeh smiled as you crossed your arms in salute to her before happily looking at the others. 

She looked at the General’s face, hoping to see the look of utter bliss that often consumed the faces of the people who were with the ones that they loved in real life. Or at least, in the movies...

To her dismay, there was none of that. Instead came a harsh, “You're late.” from Okoye. One of almost disbelief. 

You quickly dismissed her. 

“Oh what will the world do now? Y/n was five minutes late.” You said calmly, gaining an intense eye roll from Okoye. 

The other three went on into the quinjet, leaving Redeh a bit thrown aback. That had never been in the movies. It was always a peaceful, almost surreal reunification. Not one filled with mixed emotions. And although she knew that her mission wasn’t to analyse this new rule to love, she was enthralled by it. It was so much like her parents, but also not at all like it too. It was a moment that she wanted context for, because there had to have been a before. 

By the calling of her name, she realised that she had gotten distracted, and everyone else had gone into one of the jets, and were patiently waiting for her to do the same. 

With the jet's engine's still off  for the meantime, the 4 sat on one side of its double seated benches, looking at the briefing that had been sent to all of them via Okoye. 

The tense moment picking up where it left off, you spoke about what you’d brought with you to assist in the missions. 

“I don't get how this decision was made. Taking you on a mission.” Okoye whispered, barely letting it out of her lips. It was your turn to roll your eyes, though it was more of a half-roll. 

“You said it yourself. We don’t know what we might encounter. Queen Ramonda thought it would be better to bring me if it’s more than we think it is. Now can you just read the briefing?”

Mouth hanging open, Redeh tried to keep her eyes on her screen, too confused to even attempt mediation. 

‘Something’s wrong.’ she thought, knowing how kind you both were to others. She reminded herself of all the good memories she had with you both. The two of you were far from toxic. But thinking of it, the two of you, although having a very public relationship, never talked about the true ins and outs of it. 

It was easy to forget that you were together if she didn’t constantly remind herself of the fact. Or maybe you just weren’t. 

Either way, there was tension. And it was especially evident when you made your next suggestion. 

“I’ll be in one of my aircrafts, watching out from above. If I see anything I’ll go down to help.” you said. A completely reasonable suggestion. 

"That sounds good." Redeh said, trying to show that she was actively participating. Still, she looked around for Ayo’s approval, just to make sure that she wasn’t completely off the mark. 

Ayo gave her a slight nod, not fully dedicated to the idea. Redeh raised her brows, unsure as to how this was a bad idea. That was until she saw Okoye’s face. 

"No." the General said bluntly. 

You were the only one shocked by this. "No? What do you mean no?" 

"You're not gonna be up there by yourself." 

This was a fight. Redeh knew it, and despite her better judgement telling her not to, she couldn’t stop from at least asking. 

"Are the two of you okay?" This did not defuse the situation at all, but Redeh could tell that she wasn’t fully aware of everything going on. 

"It’s my machine! You should feel honoured that I'm willing to use it."

"I feel sick, actually." 

The sound of a gasp was all that came from the otherwise silent space. Redeh covered her mouth when she realised that she was the owner of said gasp. 

Ayo stood up, making her way to the front of the jet, where she prepared to start flying. In total embarrassment, the young adult that still had her hand over her mouth followed her, sitting in a co-pilot spot, even though she knew that she wasn’t going to be helping in the flight department , her skills in the sky being her only struggle in training. 

She turned to look behind her large chair, catching a glimpse of the couple she’d left still sitting together. 

Something was said, or at least she thought it was, because Okoye swatted your hand away when you tried to hold her hand. You looked beyond hurt at that. 

The overwhelming resemblance of her parents made her turn away, directing her gaze to the pilot now. This couldn’t be the love that she constantly heard that the two had. Where were those grand gestures she knew of?

"Are they still together?" she asked, being sure that the two of you could very well have broken up. That would explain a lot. 

"Yes." Ayo said bluntly, confusion laced in her eyebrows. 

"Are they always like this or is there some big fight that I'm not aware of?" Redeh went on to ask. 

"They're usually like this." 

That answer was baffling to her. 

"But they don't hate each other."

"Bast, no. They love each other.” 

Redeh, crossed her arms, reluctant to believe those words. She was no expert but that kind of love was far from familiar to her. Not in a good context anyway. That was the ‘love’ of exes if she knew anything about it. It was Hateful Love. 

Ayo noticed the young woman struggling to understand what was truly going on, and not wanting to scare her off, didn’t tell the full truth about the small change in demeanour that you and Okoye had only moments before.

“Look. Different people show their love publicly in different ways. They’re not like that when they’re alone. Trust me. The love that they like to keep more secret is less tense.”

Turning again, she saw you closer to Okoye, reading from her screen. 

“Be quiet. Your breathing is distracting me.” the General said to you. 

“Oh, okay, yeah, I’ll just stop breathing.”

“Thank you, that’ll be very helpful.”

For a split second they looked at Redeh and she quickly turned back for the last time. 

"If you say so." she said to Ayo. 

In the 2 hours that passed coming through to the height of the mission, Redeh couldn't help but be doubtful of the validity of your relationship. Even though she knew that it was none of her concern. 

From the beginning there was constant bickering between the two of you. 

You were able to get your way in regards to your aircraft. Something that even hours later, Okoye was seemingly upset about. 

While you were in the sky, Okoye constantly said things through her earpiece that made it clear where she stood on the issue. 

When you realised that the issue that was taking place on the land was a rebellion group that was causing complete destruction, you activated the weaponry that you’d given the other 3 to help them defend themselves beyond their spears. Another thing that Okoye wasn’t too fond of. 

Though they helped, you felt like there was no other choice than to go down there yourself. You had more experience with more helpful weapons and you thought you could help more on the ground now that you knew what you were working with. 

“I'm coming down!” you said, already lowering the aircraft while you unbuckled and prepared to jump down when you were close enough. 

“No!” Okoye yelled instantaneously. 

“I have to!” 

“Y/n! Now is not the time to be trying to prove something. Stay on the plane!” Okoye yelled, as she struggled to take down the clutter of rebels on the left. Redeh and Ayo stayed silent fighting for their lives on opposite sides. 

Not even a minute later, your jet was nearly on the ground and you were practically flying out of it.

Surprisingly, you landed on your feet. The noise of it bringing the attention to you. 

Half a dozen rebels ran towards you, ready to attack. 

Just like before, you didn’t hesitate to get to work. You tried to go for them all at once ,your impressive weapon skills prompting more to want to approach you, their interest being in the ultra-powerful hydrogen blaster that worked effortlessly with the use of vibranium. 

It all went downhill as 2 more dozen rebels approached you, and you were being surrounded.

"You've got to be kidding me." Okoye said, running headfirst into the madness with Ayo and Redeh close behind.. 

The battle was a blur for the latter. The only thing resonating with her being the glares that Okoye shot at you whenever she got a split second to. 

At some point the rebels had stopped gathering around you, as they all laid on the ground, severely injured. 

Your  job was soon done, with minimal casualties. 

When Ayo went up to Redeh, and told her “well done.” She couldn't even remember what she had contributed to the event, only remembering a few significant fights with a handful of rebels. 

Regardless of memory, she was glad that she's done well in Ayo’s eyes. Her first day was more than a success

Walking back to the quinjet, her mind still worked, feeling unfulfilled in her analysis of you and Okoye. She’d easily gone to protect you when you were surrounded, though you’d constantly done things that seemingly annoyed her the entire day. And when she was done, the tension rang just as strong as at the beginning of the day. 

“I think it’s broken.” your voice rang in her head, causing her to turn her head to look at you and Okoye walking a few steps behind them. 

“Of course it is.” Okoye responded. 

She turned back again, looking at Ayo with a face that was still concerned.

All Ayo did was smile. Smile like she knew something that nobody else did. 

And she did. She knew that the entire day's events were all symbols of love. Subtle Love. 

Subtle love is a form of love that is never talked about. The feelings that surround it often fully authentic. Not artificially created for the approval of others. 

Just like a lot of hate, it often lives unconfronted. Whether known or not, it stays under the wraps, softly undisturbed. 

It’s the kind of love that is open to all. Fully welcoming and accommodating. The kind that holds a safe space where full transparency and vulnerability can be openly expressed without the fear of judgement. 

It’s the major things expressed in small ways. The “love” proclamations. The physical and emotional holding of one’s partner. The tears of confession. The late night conversations. All happening in a single moment that only those present get to and want to share. 

It is the kind of love that outsiders often can never decipher, but it is one of the closest forms of Concrete Love.

It’s not the kind of love that Okoye or you grew up in. The paths leading up to your relationship having many different examples of love and the dynamics that came with it. There was good and bad with all of them, as they showed you what you wanted and needed and also what you wanted to be kept far away from you. 

Subtle love only came into the picture when the two of you collided, When the two of you realised that the only people you wanted were each other and when you realised that that meant dealing with every hurdle that you faced individually, together. 

It came into the picture when you realised that Okoye had many things to say to you about how she felt, but struggled to get it out in the presence of others or with great gifts that were

-other than materialy- quite useless . 

It came into the picture when Okoye realised that around others you were open and friendly but often put their feelings above your own and you needed help stopping yourself before it went too far. 

It helped the two of you navigate through the first 2 years of being together and after the two of you became a known couple, it only became needed more. 

The fun part about it was that there was no pressure to constantly implement it, but the comfort of having it made your relationship feel much more in sync. 

Almost completely unspoken words were quickly decoded when you were in public, and both of you slowly stopped hesitating to ask for help or  space, knowing that with that you could fully let go of the expectations that people brought with them for your relationship because of the love you had.  

It made it easy to have completely different conversations behind closed doors, while also quietly continuing those words as the day went on without people being easily able to know exactly what was being said and what was meant. 

This love carried weight in its natural existence, but it also made every moment meaningful. 

Meaningful enough to be able to bicker in public without heavy words accidently being thrown out where all eyes could see. 

It was the perfect grounds to safe communication, and to getting the best out of a relationship.

Subtle Love often got mistaken for Hateful Love. But it was always quite the contrary. 

Hours before the mission. 

Heavy weighted material closed off the access to cool air to your body as you awoke from  soft noise. 

You felt instant warmth from this material, like the atmosphere was giving you a soft hug. Attempting to lull you back to sleep.

Feeling hands gently placing themselves around you, you opened your eyes.

Irises of warm brown stared back at you, more aware that you were awake than aware that you were staring back at them. They brought a welcoming hello with them. A silent serenade. 

They were owned by the same body that possessed the arms that wrapped around you.

Okoye. 

“Morning, my love.” came the words from the lips that you’d unconsciously been staring at. 

No words came out of yours. Your mind still fully absorbing her presence, and the gift that it was. 

She’d placed a previously fallen blanket on you; you’d come to realise. Tucking you in before she left to tend to her General duties. 

You gently lifted your arms out of the tight hold that she’s put them in. 

Feeling warm enough knowing that she was there with you, you proceeded to move the rest of your body out of the blanket's grip, eventually lifting your body up to sit. 

Stable in your position, you pulled her towards you. Your eyes and hers met and locked, refusing to let go of each other. All you could do was smile, the peace that you felt bringing joy with it every time. 

Aeons passed before another word was spoken. 

“You have to go?” you asked, though you knew the answer already. 

“Mhm,” Okoye responded, bringing you into an embrace now that you were fully aware of what was happening. 

“You smell good.” 

She laughed, turning to kiss your forehead, before looking at you directly again. 

“I’ll be gone for a while. You should sleep in. You looked really tired yesterday.” she said.

You gazed at her in question. “I should sleep in?” 

She nodded, clearly oblivious to the information that  both you knew and her clearly knew too. 

“Okoye…” you started, making sure that she didn’t try to avoid your gaze at you. She looked at you, guilt written all over her face. 

“Yes.”

“Are you trying to make me late?” 

“Ini (What?)!” she lied through her lips but the rest of her face gave her away. 

“Ujaxoka (You’re lying.)" you said through a grin, more of a funny statement than an accusation.

She performed her best fake gasp, “Njani ( How?)” 

You laughed, in complete disbelief that her act was still continuing. She joined in, knowing that she’d been caught but happy to entertain you. 

“I already got the call from Queen Ramonda, Okoye.” you said, shifting over to allow her room to lay with you in bed. 

She opted to lay on your legs, her face looking directly up at you while you played with her hands.

A heavy sigh left her system and the mini suns that you knew as her eyes grew darker than usual. 

“Why don’t you want me to go?” you asked. Now avoiding direct eye contact because that would make it harder for her to want to tell you. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“My entire job consists of working with weapons. I’m always in danger of getting hurt.” you tried to reason. 

“I know,” she sighed, lacing your hand into hers properly before kissing it, “But it’s different when you’re just making weapons by yourself. I don’t want you fighting and getting hurt.”

Then she added, “You get reckless sometimes.”

“I’ll be safer this time.” 

“You won’t” 

“I will!” 

“You won’t, Y/n. You say you will every time but when we get there you’ll lose yourself in the battle and forget that you ever said that.” 

You stayed quiet, knowing that she was right. You did have a bad track record of putting yourself in situations that were dangerous despite promising not to. 

Still in your train of thought, Okoye began to get up. 

“I’ll tell everyone that you’re sick and then you'll be able to sleep in.” 

She looked at you with pleading eyes. Your lack of response leaving a big question in the room. 

She couldn’t wait for an answer, but gave you a kiss on the lips, promising not to be too upset if you chose to go after her. 

“Okay,” you said into the open, unaware that she had heard you.

Waiting a while before getting ready, you debated whether you should've texted her saying that you were coming, but eventually settled on just showing up and dealing with the consequences later. 

When you arrived with a smile wrapped around your face, you saw her grow tense. 

“You’re late.” she said bluntly. Not wanting to confront the matter in front of Ayo, and especially not in front of the new Dora that was to accompany the three of you. 

You went for a childish dig, claiming that five minutes wasn’t much in any case.

Though she looked mad, you still saw the hurt that shone through her eyes. Not tears, but a defeated lowering of her gaze telling you all that you needed to know. 

Her words came off more harsh than your usual banter did, and you knew that a line was crossed. 

“I’m sorry.” you mouthed to her, pleading for her to accept it or at least take it in. You really were, but you also wanted to keep her safe. And with the direct request of attendance coming from the queen herself, it was only right for you to show up and do your job.

Okoye knew this. She wasn’t new to what your job entailed, but she sure wished you could be kept away from all the possible danger. She gave you a side nod, acknowledging your words but showing that she was still a bit unsettled and maybe even upset by the dishonesty. 

As you went onto the jet, and the young woman that was to join you stayed staring into the open, you figured she was going through her own thing. 

Next came the whisper. “I don't get how this decision was made. Taking you on a mission.” she breathed out. 

She was in panic mode and there was nothing you could do to stop it. It was directed towards herself more than at you but you felt the need to try to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. 

“Sthandwa sam.” you whispered more effectively than she had. 

“You said it yourself. We don’t know what we might encounter. Queen Ramonda thought it would be better to bring me if it’s more than we think it is. Now can you just read the briefing?” The last part was your plea to her. One that would hopefully get you somewhere in the long day. Or at least off the ground. 

She continued at your request, a worried expression escaping her every time she saw your name written with an instruction to do anything at all. 

Seeing this worry, you knew it was a bad idea to suggest flying alone. 

“No.” she said. 

“What do you mean no?” you knew exactly what she meant. You’d made a promise, and breaking that a couple hours after its creation wouldn’t make her feel like she could trust you with things like that. 

When Redeh asked if the two of you were okay, you admittedly let your tongue slip. 

"It’s my machine! You should feel honoured that I'm willing to use it."

"I feel sick, actually." 

A gasp was let out and the two dora that sat next to you left for the front of the jet, leaving you to talk. 

“Okoye, I-” you started. 

You went for her hand, and she was quick to swat it away, a reflex. Immediately she linked legs with you -a way for her to show that she wanted you to stay close. and tried to get herself to calm down. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”

“I know. I’m sorry for lying about not coming.”

“I‘ll be safe, I promise.” you finished. 

“And I’ll be there when you change your mind.” you both laughed at this, knowing that that was the more realistic plan. 

The rest of the trip to your destination was just filled with banter.

“Be quiet. Your breathing is distracting me.” she said, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, okay, yeah, I’ll just stop breathing.” 

“Thank you, that’ll be very helpful.”

Your gaze went back to Redeh’s seat where she watched the encounter in dismay. 

Locking eyes with Okoye, you both couldn’t help but start chuckling at the clear misunderstanding. 

“She’s gonna think we hate each other.” Okoye said, finally taking your hand now that things were back to normal. 

“Most people already think that. I’m sure a lot of them think we called it quits a while ago.” 

She agreed, realising that besides Ayo, most people refrained from mentioning you to Okoye or her to you. Assuming that the two of you were no longer an item. 

You never confronted them on their assumptions, enjoying the fewer questions that came in about your relationship. 

When you saw the rebels approaching from all ends of the land, you had to think quickly. 

Your banter with Okoye stopped and you became serious, noting that you didn’t have many options to choose from. If you shot from above they’d target your plane and wreck it, putting you at risk of crashing. 

You had to help from the ground, much to Okoye’s displeasure. 

“I’m gonna jump down there!” you said through your earpiece 

“What! No!” your love spoke almost the second you finished saying it. 

“I have to!”

“No, you don’t!” 

“Okay fine. I want to do it.“ 

“Y/n stay in the-” before she could finish, you were on the ground and attracting the rebels attention. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you heard as you became trapped in a circle of rebels ready to fight you. 

In true Y/n fashion, you charged for them all, the cause and effect being a sharp fall and a nearly irreversible demise. 

Okoye was by your side alongside the others, and although the “I told you not to jump.” was on the tip of her tongue, she refrained. Her instinctive need to protect you coming before her need to be right. 

When it was all over, you made your way to her. 

Slowly, you walked to the jet with her nudging; her shoulder with your own once you caught up to her. 

"See. Told you I would be safe." 

"I can see you limping." she looked down at your left foot, where she could clearly see you trying not to put weight on it. 

You relented, getting rid of your act and limping more consistently. The pain was excruciating. 

“I think it’s broken.” 

Okoye stopped dead in her tracks. "Of course it is." 

Inspecting your face for any indication that you were overreacting. When she couldn't find any, she was quick to lift you up bridal style, not wanting any pressure being placed on the offending ankle. 

You watched her walking with you, smiling up at her. 

“You look rather pleased with yourself.”

"I am." you continued to smile.

When Redeh looked back to see you being carried by Okoye, with a bright smile on your face, she felt a sigh of relief. Not at your injury, but at how content the both of you looked in your moment of chaos. 

You weren’t like her parents after all. Or like any couple she’s ever seen. After seeing you at your worst (though she knew far worse had most-likely happened before), she’d expected one of you to stop trying, or stay angry forever. She didn’t expect to see organised disruption.

Even as you flew back to the city, and Okoye determined that you had indeed broken a part of your ankle. It was calm. There was synchronisation even when there were problems. 

You threw in your jokes here and there, “Who could have predicted that?” Okoye rolling her eyes at you. 

It was reassuring, seeing how subtle the obvious love could be. How well it worked for the two of you. How almost therapeutic it was. 

Her ideas of love always came in pictures of no complication at all, but seeing the smiles plastered on your faces made her feel just as excited as any grand gesture she’d ever seen would have.. 

Looking at Ayo she smiled for the first real time that entire day. “They’re good for each other.” 

Her successor looked at her fondly. “They are.”

And on the other side of the Quinjet, where you laid with your foot supported upright for the trip back, you gazed up at your favourite 2 things again. 

Your suns. Warm and full of life. Staring down at you. They made your pain go away -even if only theoretically-.

They told you everything you needed to know about their owner. They exposed every soft spot that she had for you. They were your symbol of subtlety. 

“I love you.” you said to the woman who held you. 

“I love you more.” she planted a peck on your forehead, before laying her head against the back of her seat, closing those eyes for a while. 

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

"Sonnet XVII" is a renowned poem written by the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. It is part of his collection "One Hundred Love Sonnets" ("Cien sonetos de amor"), published originally in Spanish in 1959. Neruda wrote the collection as a declaration of love for his third wife, Matilde Urrutia, with whom he had an affair during his second marriage.

In "Sonnet XVII," Neruda expresses his deep affection and admiration for his beloved, using vivid and imaginative language to depict the intensity of his emotions. The poem explores the theme of love's transcendence, celebrating the unique qualities and beauty of the beloved. Neruda's words convey a sense of overwhelming love, describing his devotion as both physical and spiritual.

The sonnet is considered one of his most popular and beloved works, capturing the universal essence of love and the power of words to express profound emotions.

One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII Translated by Mark Eisner

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself, and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you, so close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

[Courtship Academy]

[bardic-tales]

9.3.24: GTKMO: Issue # 3: Bianca Moore

Ah. The third issue of Get to Know My Character is going to focus on Bianca and her time in the Final Fantasy 7 universe. I have to admit that I am so excited for this arc I have planned for Bianca. It's very rare that I will write the villain as the protagonist, but here we are.

As September is upon us and the only remaining of my COVID is a hacking cough, I'm looking forward to getting fully back into writing. I'm also excited that my husband decided to join me on Tumblr as @bigbillythewetwilly. And of course, he names himself off of a cat meme he found on Youtube. lol.

As always, Sephiroth's death is taken from the anime: Last Order: Final Fantasy VII.

What is your character’s current conflict? What steps are they taking to address this conflict?

Trigger Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Psychological Distress, Obsessive Devotion, Exile, Loss of Identity, Manipulation, Self-Destructive Behavior, Main Character Death, Canon x OC, AU: Canon Divergent

Bianca’s conflict arose from her fatal flaw: her obsessive devotion to Sephiroth. After she watched her father, Azrakiel, behead her husband with only his claws, she felt immense grief. This allowed her to form an emotional bond to the SOLDIER 1st Class member, Sephiroth. Their mystical link allowed them to read each other’s thoughts, feel each other’s pain, and experience each other’s emotions. This allowed her mind to be vulnerable to emotional highs and lows.

After she emerged from the cosmic rift that sent her crashing into Sephiroth and she woke up from her unconscious state, she found his developing psychosis affecting her, as well as the grief from losing a love one, allowing her to trauma bond with him. Then, when she sees him stabbed in the back by Cloud and begs him to stay with her only for him to step off the platform into the mako vats below, she begun her fall from grace which directly fostered the start of her histrionic personality disorder and devotion to Sephiroth: even as he planned to end the world with Meteor and merge with the Lifestream.

Of course, there is a lot more that goes into shaping her devotion to him. I haven’t touched upon how her love for him exiled her from the Celestial Realm and how she will never feel the Eternal Moonlight upon her skin or how he can influence her — much like he does with his clones, including Cloud — but she gave up her world, her friends, and her very identity for this man.

There is several steps Bianca is currently taking right now to address her internal conflict. The first one is that she is fully embracing her dark side and any powers that come with her Jenova infusion, as well as her natural demonic abilities. This includes and is not limited to learning how to manipulate space-time and reality.

As she delves further into her role as Sephiroth’s ally, she is determine to suppress any memories of her former life with Sesshomaru and her mother, Seraphine, who lives as a living conscious within her. She will use her manipulative skills to control and deceive those around her, as she tries to control her position within the narrative: of finding the Promised Land eventually.

Bianca is a villain who is unabashedly loyal to her partner and will do anything to see his goals succeed.

[leggerefiore]

Oblivious S/O is always good, but consider S/O being secretly aware of Volo's attempts to woo them over, to which S/O makes a point to act particularly starstruck and affection towards Cyrus whenever Volo is around. Not necessarily to ease Cyrus's nerves, because he'd clearly trust S/O to not betray him, but to deter Volo. And absolutely not in any distasteful way, status and appearances were critical in such times, besides, Cyrus would not appreciate it no matter the social context.

Volo's in town? S/O is absolutely wearing something that belongs to Cyrus if he isn't with them, and if he is, they stay within intimate proximity of his personal space. A bright smile, tender glances from the side, maybe a small tug at his sleeves (because I think actual hand holding would've been a taboo at that point, maybe briefly to help you down stairs or off a carriage). Perhaps even slightly leaning your body weight further towards him. Together or not, S/O won't give Volo much time to speak or act, and given the social norms, Volo would be very limited on what he can say or do with a person who's already taken.

Volo approaches them while they're on an expedition? S/O will strategically gush about Cyrus, always mentioning him in conversations that aren't strictly about work, maybe even when it's work-related. Again, S/O wants to hurry and get back home to their Cyrus. He is their sunshine after all.

Volo comes to them after they quell a noble? S/O will patch their own wounds up and let Cyrus take a closer look at them later. If only Cyrus could have been their to observe the noble's frenzy and the odd lights that shattered like glass, he's an intelligent and well-educated man, surely he would've provided some insights or formed a feasible hypothesis. Another plate? S/O has to let Cyrus see this.

Long story short, the sneaky blonde is seething, absolutely livid. Being a skilled manipulator himself, I'm sure Volo would catch on to S/O's behavior, though I think he'd take it as a challenge. Or maybe he can calm himself with the notion that once as he upsurps Arceus, nothing will prevent him for taking S/O for himself, he just needs to wait.

Even better if Cyrus doesn't immediately realize what his S/O is doing and just assumes the change in behavior is because of their previous seperation. Or maybe it's because their is much bigger risk of life and limb in Hisui. I do feel that Cyrus would have a rare sense of bemusement and/or smug-ness once as he found out that his S/O is actively pushing Volo out of the picture.

That said, all this talk of social norms and taboos has me wondering if Cyrus and S/O, as an unmarried couple, would've actually been permitted to share a living quarters and have so much time alone. It's a tiny village, posing as the great captain's cousin and being the star of the survey corps would create a certain dignified status, I wonder how well that would've worked.

Whether or not mini Cyllene was born in Hisui or post-Hisui, wouldn't Cyrus and S/O had to have gotten married to be granted so much privacy as a couple?

High Five Anon

Cyllene probably lied for them both. She might have found it undignified, but she could tell they absolutely needed each other's company within private quarters. It had to be allowed. Her plan originally was to take him in herself, but she changed her mind upon seeing them together after he woke up. She just subtly added them both to her family registry and lied about it being an arranged marriage to those who asked.

(Cyllene has a headache in a timeline where mini-Cyllene came before Hisui. Her however-many-greats granddaughter can't be adopted to her family registry, sadly. Not without a father. Thankfully, it's quickly amended whenever Cyrus falls down.)

Volo is going mad that Arceus's chosen one is foolishly deciding to stay with some completely random man with little to no desirable traits (in his mind). Even if he understands the relationship arose from before you came to Hisui, he simply cannot comprehend why you would choose to stay with him. He knows that you do not know his ultimate goals, but assuredly, his kindness during your time of need in Hisui has been greater than whatever Cyrus could provide.

If he does catch on, you are correct in your thinking he just figures he will amend it with the power of Arceus. This Cyrus doesn't need to exist. He's only here through some unknown entity's will. When he becomes god of his recreated world, you will happily be at his side, and all this jealousy and pain that currently eats at him will fade.

Actually, I was just considering how Cyrus would find himself utterly intrigued by Cogita's obviously grander knowledge about Hisui than she would let on and the plates' purpose. Thankfully, the knowledge of Arceus evades him while he still has his will and vision to create his new world.

[atla-recluse]

Adventure Time/Lemongrab-Princess Bubblegum Theory

Lemongrab was created to be everything Princess Bubblegum loved, believed in, wanted, preferred, feared, hated about herself and saw the world as. To be everything she was and still is.

The problem arose after he was "born" when PB found that he just wasn't those things—in the exact way she had desired him to be. This caused her great disappointment and led to her associating LG with disappointment and, on some level, insult to her person. She very likely sees/saw herself in LG, no matter how warped he gets/got, because of her reasons for creating him. He literally IS her. Just male and more extreme/dramatic. Like a living symbol of her pain, made real, and a constant reminder of what could have been.

Even his sourness could be seen as being somewhat based on who she is/her essence. Sure, she's closer to what we would consider regular, everyday candy than him; but let's compare her to the other candy people. Bubblegum in general is less sugary than other forms of candy and is more unstable and unpredictable, too. (Ever gotten gum stuck to your shoe?) She's not sour, but she's not very sweet either. Or edible, if we're being honest. (Even lemons/lemon candy are typically okay to eat.) This, along with her general personality, worldview and disposition, puts a large amount of separation between her—along with LG—and the candy people.

This also leads me to believe that this is why PB seems, on some level, stuck on/attached to LG. Despite everything. It's due to sensing those sorta-intentional similarities and wanting to preserve their existence. Maybe she's always thinking about what could potentially be, or she just refuses to let go of and forget about the happy memories and fantasies related/connected to that which will likely never change.

It should also be noted that the show doesn't shy away from the belief that what you are will definitely affect who you become. All candy people are on some level sweet and that sweetness partly or fully dictates how they think and act. This helps to explain why LG is always so disgruntled and in pain. He's candy and he knows it. He was made by the Queen/Goddess of Candy herself to be an heir or friend/family member of some sort. Yet, he often feels out of place and like a mistake due to that sourness, and how different it is from the other candy people's sweetness. Perhaps PB should have made and integrated more sour candy before or after LG was created, to make the kingdom more bitter-friendly and inclusive?

Anyway, that's my thoughts on that. Princess Bubblegum made Lemongrab to be like herself in many if not all regards. He just didn't turn out to be the right amount of "like herself" that she'd hoped for or would/could tolerate. That is, he was arguably too much like herself, as opposed to not enough.

[dailycharacteroption]

Roleplay Ramblings: Food part 3

(art by Amaya Mori’ta on Artstation)

 Cultural Inspiration

 So now that we’ve talked about cooking terminology, let’s take a look at how the culture of a region will affect what cuisine is available, as well as how they season and prepare it. After all, cooking started with discovering how heat could make food softer and easier to digest, and preparing complex dishes arose from discovering how multiple foodstuffs could be combined to create new flavors.

Depending on what you have to work with, this can, and indeed has created a vast array of foods from across the world, so why shouldn’t it be the same for your fantasy world?

Now obviously many fantasy cultures may draw inspiration from or be almost wholesale lifted from real-world inspiration or even other fantasy fiction, so with them often comes the cuisine. Don’t be afraid to use such inspirations. After all, most fantasy settings are earth-like enough that the food should be similar, but as with taking inspiration from other cultures in other aspects, it’s best to practice self-awareness so you can leave biases at the door and do the research to understand what these cultures truly have to offer.

Moving beyond direct cultural comparisons, let’s talk about availability. The end-all and be-all of figuring out what cuisine a culture has is what there is available. While one nation might balk at the idea of frying large insects and eating them, in places where they are ultra common and might even otherwise be pest species, being able to do your own pest control and fill your belly is a very viable option. Also, consider what fruit and vegetables are local to the region, which could influence how they grow and cultivate such cuisine, to say nothing of how they prepare it, including the brewing of fermented drinks from it.

Also, think about the challenges that a culture might experience. A culture that hasn’t developed hot enough cooking fires might consider certain meats to be taboo to eat purely because they can’t cook it well enough to destroy toxins, parasites, or bacteria native to it (pork and seafood being key examples of this). But also consider how the environment might make certain foodstuffs hard to carry with on journeys, leading to the development of dried rations and travel cakes and hard tack. Rest assured that if there is a problem, sapient beings will find a solution.

Of course, the biggest way to get around not having a particular foodstuff locally is to trade for it. Once a nation gets big enough and develops the means to create or utilize byways to other nations, foods that would normally be distant dreams become available, much more so when methods of preserving said foods for long journeys are developed.

In the best scenarios, this may lead to nations taking traded fruits of other nations and planting them for their own supply, breeding such produce to create cultivars that survive better in the local area or even incorporate new flavors and other traits for a unique cultural staple which in turn gets traded back, increasing prosperity and the vast well of experiences across the world.

In the worst, however, a powerful militant nation might seek to invade, conquer, and colonize other nations for their resources, which includes not just the usual valuables like metals, minerals, wood, and the like, but also the unique foods and spices found there, which in turn further influences what foods are considered staples of a nation.

Also consider what the food itself means to the culture. For example, rice was such an important staple of Japanese society that it formed the basis for their units of measure and economy, and even had a sacred component in Shinto, as only the most thoroughly scrubbed white rice was used as an offering to the kami. Is a particular animal considered sacred, or seen as a key part of meals for certain celebrations, or something similar? Does your nation have particular iconic street foods that vendors might offer to passersby looking for a quick snack?

 Such are a sampling of the questions you might ask yourself about a fictional culture and their food, but we haven’t touched on how various fantasy ancestries throw even more questions into the mix. We’ll take a look at that can of worms tomorrow, however!

[dododan]

"The words we are afraid to say"

A short story related to Rottmnt recently popped into my head. As you can see it is a short scene between Splinter and Big Mama.

"There are a lot of questions swirling around in Splinter's head, and most of them involve Big Mama. The questions arose after he found out that she was the one who helped his boys find him. He didn't understand why she did it. He hoped that after all these years the woman would answer at least that one question for him."

The voices from the television resonated. They echoed through the abandoned metro station, which had been taken over a few days ago by four turtles and a certain rat. The faint light of the television illuminated the room. Splinter looked at his sleeping sons. His boys were buried between the pillows and blankets they had taken from their old home. Tired, but safe. This scene filled him with relief. There were times when he thought they would not make it through the fight. But they made it through. Together.  

Splinter found it hard to get used to the new place as much as his sons. Few things from their old home had survived. Only it wasn't that important. They may have lost their hiding place, but it was just a place. He couldn't deny that they had spent a lot of nice times there, and he felt regret despite everything. His boys, at such a young age, had to face a terrifying monster that almost took their lives - the Shredder. Only because when he was young, Yoshi was too arrogant and filled with regret to at least listen to what his grandfather had to say. Maybe if only he had been smarter....   

He just couldn't change the past. He did what he did. He sighed while still looking at his sons, who were cuddling into each other. He smiled slightly at the sight. His children were safe and nothing else should matter to him. They had made it.   

Splinter disappeared into the depths of the corridor, walking silently. His boys slept undisturbed by the sound of the TV, so there was no way they could have heard their father slipping out into the night. Still, Yoshi preferred that none of his sons knew where he was going, especially Leonardo. There were some things that couldn't wait any longer and Splinter needed to find answers to his questions. Even if the hope of getting them was slim, he had to at least try.   

 There was simply something inside him that told him to go and see for himself. He glanced once more at the old photograph he held in his hand. He took them from Big Mama's flats a few months ago. He suspected that she had probably already guessed that he had stolen it, because who else could silently sneak into her flat?   

 He slipped the photo back into his pocket, exiting the underground tunnel.   

...  

Her usually brightly lit office, tonight was bathed in semi-darkness. It was her first day on the job when the medico allowed her to get out of bed. She couldn't afford another day of delay. She had a lot of work to do, and the world was waiting for no one.   

Anyone who ever tells her that the world won't collapse if she allows herself a few days of convalescence is an idiot and doesn't have a clue how business works. It took less than a week for so many issues to accumulate that Big Mama wasn't sure she could handle everything.   

 Compensating the hotel's customers who had been affected by her champion being "out of control".   

 Meeting with the Hidden City Council to explain her "little freak out" in the form of Battle Nexus New York. She will likely be forced to make a sizable donation to the city budget.   

 Hotel refurbishment.   

Compensation for the affected employees....  

 She didn't even want to think about what else was on her to-do list.   

 She put her pen aside, straightening up in her chair. She began to massage her temples with a healthy hand. The severe headache had been lingering for days, but the potions she had seemed to alleviate it at least a little. Still, the faint light of the lamp irritated her, but she could not work in the dark. Her broken arm and damaged ribs were also a nuisance. Every more violent movement caused her unpleasant discomfort.  It flashed through her mind that maybe she should rest a few more days, as the medic advised, but she quickly dismissed it.   

 She could not show that she was weak. She was Big Mama. A few fractures or bruises shouldn't prevent her from running the empire. She had rested enough anyway.   

 She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind before going back to reviewing the documents. She can't read the same page for 15 minutes. A barely audible creak sounded across the room. Big Mama pulled her eyebrows together, but continued not to open her eyes. Probably someone from the staff was strolling down the corridor. She took a deep breath, returning to her work. She tried to focus on the document, talking about the damage on floors twenty-two and twenty-three.   

 A hole in the ceiling in the corridor, three rooms flooded. The wall between room 234 and 233 had collapsed. Maybe she'll make it into one bigger flat? Cheaper than renovating two rooms.   

 Once again, a rustling sound echoed through her office. A small moment, as if something had brushed the floor.  Was her mind playing tricks on her? No one but her was in the study. She corrected her glasses without taking her eyes off the document. Perhaps fatigue was setting in?   

She ignored the rustling, trying to gather the rest of her strength to focus on the paperwork. She needed to review a few more documents today before heading off to bed.  The rustling noise reappeared. She didn't know why, but the hard-to-describe sound seemed familiar to her. It was as if she had heard it many times.  

 She played with her pen, wondering how such a rustling sound could be familiar to her. Suddenly, she experienced a daze. She chastised herself in her mind for her absentmindedness. She had let him lurk around her office for too long. She put down her pen, straightening up in her chair. The rustling sounded again, but now she knew who it belonged to.   

 “Are you going to continue hiding in the shadows, Yoshi?" asked Big Mama in a confident voice, gazing into the dark corner of her office. "Or should I say Splinter?"Although she couldn't see him in the darkness, her gut told her she was looking directly at him. "Or did you fancy this life as a rat?”   

 Her loud voice spread through the office. It radiated confidence, perhaps even superiority. Big Mama knew she had hit a sensitive spot as soon as a quiet creak sounded. She knew how much Yoshi had valued his appearance in the past. He had always tried to present himself well, even when fighting in her arena. She knew what she was doing to lure him out of the shadows. She couldn't let him continue to wander around her office.   

 “Polite as ever," , said Splinter, and a note of cynicism could be heard in his voice. 

 Even though she knew what he looked like these days, it was hard for her to get used to it. Grey fur. The moustache. He looked so foreign, and yet she could see the old Lou in him. Those dark brown eyes that watched her closely. The slightly upturned nose and the pulled down eyebrows.   

 Yoshi knew there was no point in hiding anymore. He turned towards the faint light of her desk lamp. The first thing that caught his eye was the cast on her left hand. He furrowed his brow. He had expected her to be injured after what his sons had told him, but hearing and seeing were two different things. Even in the semi-darkness, he could see a slight grimace on her face, although she tries to maintain her typical smile. The dark shadows under her eyes and the empty potion bottle had not escaped his attention. He knew exactly what could have been in there, as he himself had used this potion many times after his battles in the Arena.   

 “How do you feel?” asked Splinter directly.   

He was not going to hide the concern that resounded in his voice. If the last few days or months had taught him anything, it was that he needed to be honest. Not to others, but first and foremost to himself. There was no point in hiding the reason he had come here. Maybe it was silly, looking at the fact that he was talking to Big Mama, but he hoped that if he was honest with her she would return the favour.   

 “I've been better," Big Mama replied, turning her head away from her guest. She didn't want him to notice the surprise on her face. She hadn't expected him to ask so directly. But she couldn't allow herself a moment's hesitation. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Yoshi's sigh of relief. She saw the frown on his forehead disappear and his shoulders slump gently. She wondered how much truth there was in his behaviour, and how much he was playing to get something out of her. Usually she could read people or yokai. Only Yoshi was a mystery to her. She used to think he was always honest with her.... But everyone in this world has an ulterior motive. Everyone wants something. There is nothing for free. If you figured out quickly what exactly they were you had an advantage. Big Mama couldn't afford to be behind. "But it's not something I can't handle.” 

 Nevertheless, she allowed herself to take a close look at the man. Seeing no visible injuries in him, she felt a strange relief in her heart. Yoshi could feel Big Mama watched him, even if she tried to hide it. Maybe someone who wasn't as close to her as he was wouldn't have noticed how closely she was watching him. But neither of them could say out loud what they wanted.   

 “Full of energy as always” Yoshi commented, smiling slightly. Still, he chickened out and didn't tell her he was glad nothing serious had happened to her. Big Mama had always intimidated him. She had something about her that made Yoshi run out of words. Today was no different. Despite her visible fatigue, she continued to radiate the same strength he had seen during their first meeting.   

 “It can't be any other way my dear”, she replied frivolously, correcting a strand of hair that had slipped during their conversation. She turned back to the man, looking into his eyes. She was overwhelmed with fatigue. This day really had been a hard one, and she would gladly drop all games if it would allow her to cut this conversation short. Unfortunately, she couldn't. A woman like her had to keep her guard up, especially against the man whose love she had betrayed. She couldn't be sure what he would want to do. "But you didn't come here just for that, did you?” 

Splinter stared at the woman, trying to put his thoughts into words. He knew why he had come here, but when it came down to it doubts got to him. He lowered his gaze, wondering if this was the right choice. Big Mama stared at him unceasingly. Any other person she would have rushed to not waste her time, but not Yoshi. I guess he still meant something to her if she gave him time to think. Or she herself was curious about what he had to say to her. She wasn't sure about that.   

 She saw his shoulders tighten gently. He ran his claws through his grey hair. She remembered that mannerism of his. He did that every time he had a conundrum of some kind. She'd never forget those evenings when they'd talked through entire nights together. She had many opportunities to remember how he behaved. It ran through her mind that, despite all these years, some things had not changed about him.   

 “Why...” began Yoshi, and then raised his head. "Why did you do that?" His voice trembled.   

 “Isn't it obvious?"She asked squinting slightly, and the sly grin never left her face. Splinter saw her tilt her head. She always did that when she wanted to tease. To throw the interlocutor off balance, to show all their cards. It might have worked on others, but not on him.   

 They stared at each other. They measured each other with their eyes. Both waited for the other to crack. In the old days, they both cared about winning an argument or a clash. Then they were unable to let go. Yoshi was usually the first to explode, driven by anger. They would shout at each other. Yoshi blamed her for the woman's inability to open up to him.  Even towards him she used these tricks and hid from him. She, on the other hand, would catch him at his words and stick a pin in him, hiding behind a wall.   

 Only many years had passed since then, and Splinter was no longer that man.  

 Big Mama had seen his stature change. It seemed to her that he was more upright. As if more confidently. A seriousness dawned on his face that she had never seen in him before. Involuntarily, the smile descended from her face. She stared at him for another moment, as if unable to believe how he had acted. It was so different from what she remembered.   

 “I just found it more worthwhile,” she said, glancing at the papers on her desk.  Splinter knew she was trying to show him how indifferent she was to the whole thing. She wanted to show how little impression it had made on her. He slipped his hand into his pocket, touching the photo. He just continued to stand there and wait. Big Mama felt as if this answer was not enough for him, so she went on. She marked something in the document. "Shredder was a good champion. Not as great as you”, she said, suspending her gaze on Yoshi for a moment. It did not escape her notice how the man twitched slightly. "But when he stopped fulfilling his purpose, he had to be dealt with. Just when Shredder started causing problems, your sons appeared" This time she noticed how his ear twitched. She wasn't sure how to interpret that in Yoshi's performance, but he responded. “It would be a shame not to use them to get rid of this problem.” 

She was so calm throughout her argument. Her every word was carefully chosen. Splinter felt again that she was trying to get him off balance. A memory of his past. Big Mama's memory of how he was against further fighting in the Arena. The memory of his sons, knowing how important they are to him. Speaking so brazenly in his presence about using his sons as tools to clean up the problem she had in part created.   

 He couldn't say it didn't upset him, but Splinter was no longer as short-sighted as he once was. Nor was he going to ignore that gut feeling that told him the truth was different. In the past, he hadn't trusted that hunch and had paid a heavy price for it. This time, he was not going to let her hide the truth.   

 Initially, he didn't intend to do so, but she gave him no choice. This time, he's not going to let her get away with the answers. Even if he loses this photo, he might finally hear the truth. He probably deserved it after all this time.   

 He approached her with a slow but sure step. He could see Big Mama playing with a pen, playing relaxed. But he knew that she could easily hit the security button, which was camouflaged next to the pen cup, at any time. In less than a minute her best staff would have arrived. Nevertheless, she did not call them. She couldn't tell why. She didn't see Yoshi as a threat. Not that kind. Yoshi was a man of principle. Of that one thing she was sure.   

 She saw him reach into his pocket, and then she froze. He had the picture. He placed it in front of her. The woman grabbed it, looking at it carefully. It was her photo. Tucked away in her flat. In her locker. He was here, and she didn't know it. She felt anger rising in her. She didn't wonder if she was angry at the fact that he had broken into her room and stolen the photo, or maybe at herself for not realising. She thought she had lost them somewhere.   

In her anger, she did not notice how sadness and a certain longing crept onto Splintra's face. He really didn't want to lose that picture.   

 "You!” she was going to yell at the man, but a sudden pain in her ribs prevented her. For a moment she ran out of breath, propping herself up against the desk top with her healthy hand. She scowled, trying to take a breath.   

 Splinter found himself at her side. He wanted to help somehow. He didn't intend to upset her that much. He didn't want her to suffer because of him. Despite everything, deep down he still cared about her. In some strange, twisted way, he wanted to find out if the woman he loved reciprocated his feelings.   

 “Don't touch me,” growled Big Mama at him before he could do anything.  

She looked down at him. If only she were well, she would have given him a shove. The man stood still. Surprised by her vehemence, he didn't dare move. Big Mama concentrated on her breathing, sitting down in a chair. She leaned back, closing her eyes in pain. She didn't care if Splinter saw it. That wasn't what was important at the moment. Big Mama calmed her breathing, contemplating her next move.   

She was angry. Annoyed. She would have loved to throw him out of here. But she also felt a strange sense of relief. Happiness, perhaps? There was so much emotion in her that she felt like crying. It had been a long time since she had felt so out of balance. She looked at Yoshi, who continued to stand sideways to her. She could see that he wanted to hear the truth. Just what kind of truth Big Mama herself wasn't sure what it was. Instead, she knew one thing. She was Big Mama. The owner of the Nexus Hotel and the Battle Nexus Arena. She had her empire and the long road she had to travel to achieve it all. In this world, a woman like her could not allow herself a moment of weakness. Otherwise she would be devoured by others, as she had done thousands of times before. 

“It was a purely business decision. Then as now”, she said slowly and trying to maintain her composure. "I chose you to be my champion and I did everything to make you one. You did not protest. At least not at first.” 

Splinter clenched his hands into fists. The fur at the nape of his neck gently grew thicker. He felt it wasn't the whole truth. It couldn't be.   

“What about us? With what we had?”   

“Yoshi” Big Mama interrupted him, looking into his eyes. She could see him starting to shake, but it wasn't important. She had to make him realise. "Love is a weakness. And you were just an investment that paid off. You did a good job as a champion. I don't need you anymore.” She spoke slowly and clearly, emphasising the last sentence. These words tore at Splinter's heart. “I only helped your sons because it was more profitable than letting that maniac run wild.” 

A heavy silence fell between them. They both looked into each other's eyes. Splinter knew it wasn't true, or at least not entirely. Still, her words hurt. They hit where they hurt the most. They opened old wounds that Splinter had found so hard to come to terms with.   

“Now, if you'll allow me, some people have work they have to do. And you've got sons who I think need your attention," Big Mama turned towards the papers, ignoring the rat.   

She thought he was going to walk away and she wasn't wrong. She heard Splinter moving away towards the window. The man stood at the open window, looking at Big Mama's reflection. She sat bent over her desk as if nothing had ever happened. Splinter sighed heavily.  

“I don't know what I was hoping for”, Splinter said with such regret in his voice that Big Mama sat paralysed. "I guess for you to be honest with me for once.”  

The woman wasn't sure why those words hurt her more than anything she had ever experienced in her life. Somehow his words and how he said them hurt her more than when she thought he had run away from her. She turned towards the window, opening her mouth.   

Only Splinter was no longer there.   

She herself doesn't know what she should have expected from the way she had treated him. Big Mama herself found it hard to believe, but she wanted him to call her his Sassy Sugar Badger again. 

“Unfortunately, in this cruel world only the strongest survive, Hyggypoo”, she said in a whisper, reaching for their old photo.   

She stared at it and felt her heart ache. It squeezed in her chest and ached more than bruised ribs. Yoshi was the past, and she couldn't lose herself in it. She couldn't show weakness, because that was the world she lived in. Still, a thought ran through her mind as to whether she was doing the right thing. Had she not lost something precious along the way, climbing to the top? Had she not missed the chance for something better, if only she had allowed herself a little honesty? 

She sighed heavily, hiding the photo in a drawer. She had more important things on her mind than a would-be affair. She needed to concentrate on her business. She knew that the path she had taken would not be easy. But she could handle any challenge. She has to, because at this point there is no turning back.   

Meanwhile, Splinter was returning home. To his beloved sons. Maybe he had suffered through what had happened. Maybe he was foolish for believing that Big Mama could change. He has to move forward. It will hurt, but he has a new light towards which he can move. His sons. 

[ruewrites]

How Time Has Changed You

AO3

Ship(s): Diavolo/Lucifer, Background Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 2648

Warnings: None

A/N:

Hello! Adding once again to the Next Gen!AU that @leviathanswingman and I came up with. I wanted an excuse to bring in little Ariel and to write some fluff between Lucifer and Asmo. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

Comments are appreciated!

"I'm surprised you were able to come here alone."

"You know how Diavolo gets at the very prospect of nieces and nephews."

"I know. That's why I'm surprised you were able to come here alone."

Asmo was currently swallowed in Lucifer's coat, a cup of tea steaming in his frail fingers as his tiny figure made itself impossibly smaller as he curled up on the couch. He hummed softly in thought, blowing at the dancing steam as it arose from the cup. 

No, he wasn’t entirely frail now. In other ways he was less frail than what he had been. His hips were rounded out, his hugs not as bony and even warmer now than what they had been years ago. He was even softer now, even warmer. He was still energetic and spunky yes, and his eyes still sparkled, but he had softened more and leaned even more into his gentle nature. He also let his hair grow out, and it was now tied in a neat little bun on top of his head. He had caught Solomon playing with it on many an occasion at gatherings. Overall, he had… matured… but it was still Asmo.

Lucifer leaned back in the armchair he was in, taking in Asmo just for a second longer, "Solomon made his instructions quite clear that he wanted you to be in a calm environment. It sounded like he could certainly make use of his own requests as well."

And if Diavolo had come as he oh so desperately wanted to, the house would be anything but calm. He would want to know everything and anything about the new little demon brewing within Asmo's form. Or was the more correct term fallen angels? Partial humans?

"My husband certainly has seemed stressed hasn't he?"

"You going on impromptu outings without notice or times when you will return certainly doesn't help with that."

Oh Asmo was giving that sorcerer a run for his money. It made Lucifer chuckle a bit. From impromptu coffee shop and bakery runs to deciding he wanted to pick up a part time job at the daycare, Asmodeus was throwing Solomon into a panic. He'd become extremely accustomed to anxiety-riddled texts sent in the family group chats, unsure of where Asmo was or when he'd be home or if he was alright.

"He really does get himself worked up, I try not to upset him so much, really it's one of the few things we've ever really gotten into lil tifts about," Asmo sighed, brought the cup up to his lips and paused, "And of course that's why you're here, to make sure I don't get into any unsupervised trouble."

"Unfortunately, I find myself in slight agreement with the man you decided to marry Asmo," Lucifer smirked, "You are carrying his child as they say."

"They being humans?"

"No changing the subject, and he is correct to be concerned. The process affects you and puts you in a targeted position," Lucifer leaned forward ever so slightly, "His concern stems from valid reasons."

Asmo looked back down towards his tea cup, eyes flickering in order to avoid Lucifer's gaze. His fingers tapped along the porcelain glass before he spoke again. 

"I think it all comes from guilt," he didn't look at Lucifer, "He missed Lilith's. There's no way he could have known, I didn't even know, yet he blames himself for missing it… And for her being early." 

"It could be both."

Asmo's fingers tightened around the teacup.

"Which reminds me, I'm surprised you don't have anyone with you either. Lilith usually spends time with both of you and stays with you when Solomon has to go out."

Asmo's body softened and relaxed at the mention of his daughter. It had always been clear that, even if Lucifer had had rocky feelings about the man who sired his niece, she had grown up in a very healthy and loving environment. Both Asmo and Solomon gave her everything they could to get her to thrive. Their efforts paid off in the form of a blossoming young woman. 

"She's busy with being a much better student than I was, she gets that from Solomon you know," Asmo chittered, "And she has friends at RAD. But she's so excited about the baby, she's already planning on weekends that she can come up to visit. It's always a treat to have her stay with us again."

"I could imagine."

After all, it was always a treat to have one of his brothers visit or to see Oleander, so Lucifer could share in that sentiment. 

His eyes were trained on Asmodeus. Watching as he took another slow sip from the cup. His muscles tensed at the ready the second he saw the slightest tremor. The moment he arrived in the house, he became Asmo's shadow. Lucifer opened doors, lifted anything he personally considered too heavy, and always had a place for Asmo to sit. 

Yes there were moments his brother appeared slightly agitated with his protective streak, but a little pampering appeared to take the edge off of his fury.

Asmo hissed and shooed him away the second Lucifer tried to take the knife he'd been using to cut fruit away from him. It was a noise Lucifer had never heard come out of Asmo before, but one he understood nonetheless. However, he was soon back to playing guardian once again to the younger demon.

"Stop."

"I haven't done a thing, Asmodeus."

Asmo rolled his eyes, "I swear, you are just as bad as Solomon."

"You offend me."

Asmo set his cup down and buried himself deeper in Lucifer's coat, "Being compared to your brother-in-law isn't that terrible of a thing now is it? He did help make both of your nieces. Niece and nephew?"

"You don't know?"

"Shush, no changing the subject."

Lucifer chuckled, once again relaxing in his own chair  and motioning with his hand for Asmo to continue.

"Anyways, Solomon makes me happy and he cares for all of us, that's gotta give him some good graces in your book right?" 

Lucifer didn't say a word on the matter. Instead, he took in the image of his brother, so content, so nurturing. While he couldn't fathom why Asmodeus would willingly wish to have another, especially not after his own experiences, he did know that the new little one would be incredibly lucky to have Asmodeus raise him. For a moment he was taken back to his days in the Celestial Realm. Back to days when a very young Asmo would steal a Belphie who was barely starting to open his eyes, hiding in the trees and bushes while Beel cried for his twin and the older angels searched in a frenzy for the two missing little ones. Back to when Asmo would herd all of the tiny baby angels one by one, and how much he adored his little doves. He would teach them so many little songs and play the cutest of games with them. Back to when Asmo fantasized about having a little flock to call his own.

It shouldn't have been a surprise that he would go on and have his own and yet-

Lucifer would not have questioned Asmo in the Celestial Realm. But he had questioned him when he had his first.

But his jewel had overcome Lucifer's fears. He had broken a cycle and even found a partner who had chosen to be just as attentive. 

Sometimes Lucifer wondered if he had ever been able to break the cycle himself, or if he was just another perpetrator in the endless circle. 

"Do you have a name picked out for them?"

Asmo smiled, albeit a bit sheepishly, "Well, yes. I told Solomon to pick one out since I named Lilith."

"And? Did your human manage to come up with anything worthwhile?"

"He did," Asmo's features softened as he pulled Lucifer's coat closer to his face, "Ariel. He seemed particularly fond of the same. He says it so sweetly. Humans are funny, he likes to talk to him, it's adorable really-"

"He talks to him?" Lucifer smirked.

"It's a funny thing humans do. I told him it's not the same but he still speaks to Ariel so fondly."

Lucifer noticed Asmo's eyes dip and quickly took the cup from his hands to set it on the coffee table. Asmo tried to wave him off, but Lucifer still pulled the coat up  closer to Asmo's chin all the same. The process was a draining one, Lucifer still didn't entirely understand why Asmodeus would go through it a second time.

He could never picture himself doing that again.

That ugly concern  rose up within him again. Asmodeus was so drained, so tired, so vulnerable. What if he couldn't protect him? What if there was nothing he could do to truly do to help? What if he could not be there when Asmodeus needed him the most? What if Lucifer failed to protect them again?

"Lucifer-"

"Sleep."

"Mm not-"

"Sleep." 

Despite the pout on his lips, Asmo's eyes grew heavier and heavier.  

Solomon would eventually make it home that evening, he would find Asmo fast asleep and the Avatar of Pride watching over him steadfast and unmoving.

***

It was snowing. It was one of the few things Lucifer remembered. It was a cold December night, the whole Devildom was silent and Lucifer could see his own breath even within the confines of the castle walls. No doubt the human world was just as frozen tonight.  He was pacing back and forth. No real thoughts ran through his mind, only feelings. 

He'd almost missed Solomon's text, almost didn't answer the frantic phone calls masked behind the attempt of a calm tone. A quick quiet promise of a call back and then soft click of the call ending.

Perhaps he should brew another cup of coffee. Maybe it would take his mind off his itching wings and how badly he wanted to be there despite the weather.

"You should try to go back to bed dearest," Diavolo's voice echoed off of the walls. His voice was soft and coaxing, but he was also smart enough to keep some distance between him and Lucifer at a time like this.

"And potentially miss an urgent message that needs my attention? I think not," Lucifer snorted. He fidgeted with his D.D.D., ruby eyes boring into the device as if it would give him answers sooner through his own will power. His wings twitched as he glanced back out the window. How hard would a trip really be? Just so he could be there, just so he could manage everything with his own eyes…

A hand grabbed his own, and Diavolo's eyes met his and he slowly shook his head, "Don't."

"I wasn't planning on anything."

"Don't lie to me dearest, you know I know the truth." 

They stayed in a stalemate. Their disagreements were always like a game of chess, calm and carefully navigated. There was never a trace of aggression, never an ounce of contempt, only carefully crafted words and an understanding of the moves the other side made. Diavolo used his next move to bring Lucifer's hand up to his cheek, letting him relish in the warmth and comfort of the prince. "If you will not come back to bed, at least allow me to attend to your needs."

Lucifer let out a long breath  and laid his head against Diavolo's shoulder.

He couldn't say a word as he allowed himself to be led over to one of the chairs next to the fireplace. Slowly his eyes followed Diavolo around the room as he lit the fireplace, placed a warm blanket on Lucifer's lap, and did his best to prepare tea. His hands fumbled  causing the stream to lurch as it traveled downwards towards the cup. He was nowhere near as talented as Barbatos, and his movements were clumsy, but none of that mattered. Even now, with his nervous laughter and concerned puppy dog eyes, Lucifer felt his chest flutter.

As he picked up the cup, Diavolo moved behind him. A trill left his lips as strong hands kneaded into his shoulders and along where his wings connected with his back. 

"You should let me tend to you more often."

"As if you don't do it daily?"

Diavolo chuckled and pressed a kiss against the back of his neck. "Asmodeus will be fine, you know as well as I do that Solomon wouldn't let anything happen to him."

Lucifer's eyes softened and he found himself staring deep into flames before him. He wished he could find solace in his husband's words, and yet the darkness continued to consume him. 

***

It wasn't until the early hours that Lucifer finally heard back. The storm was still unrelenting and bit the bones of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way of it's wrath. The sound of his D.D.D. buzzing filled him with the most terrible sense of dread. For a moment, he was frozen, he couldn’t bring himself to look at the notification. Diavolo nudged it towards him on the little table. Their eyes met, and Diavolo offered him a smile and a soft nod. 

There were no words in the text, only a single image. 

Relief flooded his being. Asmo sat, exhausted but otherwise unharmed. In his arms a bundle sat wrapped on the brink of consciousness. He had a messy mop of black hair, the tiniest hint of wings peaking out, and his eyes were ones that Lucifer couldn’t help but recognize fondly. They were the color of sunsets and warm summer days. 

“He looks like Solomon.”

Lucifer hummed, “He has Asmo’s eyes… and his nose… and dimples.”

Diavolo let out a short laugh and scooted closer, the eagerness radiating off of him was palpable. He looked nothing short of hopeful. There was only one way to handle this, the correct and proper way. After all, Asmodeus had just had his second child-

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“No we are not going to bother them-”

“It wouldn’t be-”

“Asmodeus just had a child mere minutes ago and you want to barge in there and pester them both with seeing the baby? Their newborn?”

Diavolo pouted. Some things never really changed, now did they? Letting out a low chuckle, he pulled his husband closer. He ran his fingers through red locks that had darkened with age, and yet both of them were still very much the same… and also very much not. “Let them rest for a while and settle with the new one, besides weren’t you the one who was worried about me traveling in this weather? We shall visit in a few days and then you can spoil your new nephew all you want.”

Diavolo scrunched his face as Lucifer poked his nose, “Can you at least ask them for his name?”

Lucifer could feel his wings flutter, he leaned into Diavolo as he looked back down at the photo. Asmodeus hadn’t done too bad, and his human had managed to pick out a fitting name for his new nephew.

“His name is Ariel.”

"Ariel," Diavolo repeated softly, "What a human sounding name. It's wonderful."

The image before him looked so soft and warm, both of them were protected from the harsh cold of the outside, and Solomon stayed close by making sure to keep contact with Asmodeus. They were safe. They were safe, and that was what mattered. Asmodeus had someone else watching over him and that made Lucifer’s mid ease ever so slightly. They were safe, and now Asmo’s little family grew once more, and in a way Asmo continued to grow with it. 

Maybe, just maybe, Lucifer had changed as well.

Diavolo’s words tumbled in his head, and his eyes softened, “It is, isn’t it?”

[foodandfolklore]

Snow-White and Rose-Red

Art by Kerry Darlington

With all the content about the new Snow White live action Remake coming out, it got me thinking about the character in other forms. I don't mean other retellings of the story. But the name 'Snow White' was oddly popular for young, beautiful and kind maidens in fairytales. It may be a translation problem. Both Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs as well as Snow-White and Rose-Red were both written by German Authors. The famous Brothers Grimm. Actually, when I first read this story, I mistook it for the original source material of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I thought Disney took WAY MORE creative liberties.

This story has an interesting, What goes around comes around, kind of message. There are two sisters, named after Roses, a Bear, and a weirdly mean dwarf who encounters a rather sudden end. The sisters are kind to the bear so the end up happy. The Dwarf was mean to the bear so he ends up....splat. Oh, and the bear is a Prince, as is fairytale tradition.

Bears have strong correlations to endurance, adaptability, protective power, wisdom, and maternal/paternal energy. They are well known for hibernation, which can invoke a sense of cycles, dreams, and renewal. But they are also dangerous creatures, drawing feelings of danger, defense, and death. How many themes, if any, can you pick up on in this story?

Snow-White and Rose-Red

A poor widow once lived in a little cottage. In front of the cottage was a garden, in which were growing two rose trees; one of these bore white roses, and the other red.

She had two children, who resembled the rose trees. One was called Snow-White, and the other Rose-Red; and they were as religious and loving, busy and untiring, as any two children ever were.

Snow-White was more gentle, and quieter than her sister, who liked better skipping about the fields, seeking flowers, and catching summer birds; while Snow-White stayed at home with her mother, either helping her in her work, or, when that was done, reading aloud.

The two children had the greatest affection the one for the other. They were always seen hand in hand; and should Snow-White say to her sister, "We will never separate," the other would reply, "Not while we live," the mother adding, "That which one has, let her always share with the other."

They constantly ran together in the woods, collecting ripe berries; but not a single animal would have injured them; quite the reverse, they all felt the greatest esteem for the young creatures. The hare came to eat parsley from their hands, the deer grazed by their side, the stag bounded past them unheeding; the birds, likewise, did not stir from the bough, but sang in entire security. No mischance befell them; if benighted in the wood, they lay down on the moss to repose and sleep till the morning; and their mother was satisfied as to their safety, and felt no fear about them.

Once, when they had spent the night in the wood, and the bright sunrise awoke them, they saw a beautiful child, in a snow-white robe, shining like diamonds, sitting close to the spot where they had reposed. She arose when they opened their eyes, and looked kindly at them; but said no word, and passed from their sight into the wood. When the children looked around they saw they had been sleeping on the edge of a precipice, and would surely have fallen over if they had gone forward two steps further in the darkness. Their mother said the beautiful child must have been the angel who keeps watch over good children.

Snow-White and Rose-Red kept their mother's cottage so clean that it gave pleasure only to look in. In summer-time Rose-Red attended to the house, and every morning, before her mother awoke, placed by her bed a bouquet which had in it a rose from each of the rose-trees. In winter-time Snow-White set light to the fire, and put on the kettle, after polishing it until it was like gold for brightness. In the evening, when snow was falling, her mother would bid her bolt the door, and then, sitting by the hearth, the good widow would read aloud to them from a big book while the little girls were spinning. Close by them lay a lamb, and a white pigeon, with its head tucked under its wing, was on a perch behind.

One evening, as they were all sitting cosily together like this, there was a knock at the door, as if someone wished to come in.

"Make haste, Rose-Red!" said her mother; "open the door; it is surely some traveller seeking shelter." Rose-Red accordingly pulled back the bolt, expecting to see some poor man. But it was nothing of the kind; it was a bear, that thrust his big, black head in at the open door. Rose-Red cried out and sprang back, the lamb bleated, the dove fluttered her wings, and Snow-White hid herself behind her mother's bed. The bear began speaking, and said, "Do not be afraid; I will not do you any harm; I am half-frozen and would like to warm myself a little at your fire."

"Poor bear!" the mother replied; "come in and lie by the fire; only be careful that your hair is not burnt." Then she called Snow-White and Rose-Red, telling them that the bear was kind, and would not harm them. They came, as she bade them, and presently the lamb and the dove drew near also without fear.

"Children," begged the bear; "knock some of the snow off my coat." So they brought the broom and brushed the bear's coat quite clean.After that he stretched himself out in front of the fire, and pleased himself by growling a little, only to show that he was happy and comfortable. Before long they were all quite good friends, and the children began to play with their unlooked-for visitor, pulling his thick fur, or placing their feet on his back, or rolling him over and over. Then they took a slender hazel-twig, using it upon his thick coat, and they laughed when he growled. The bear permitted them to amuse themselves in this way, only occasionally calling out, when it went a little too far, "Children, spare me an inch of life."

When it was night, and all were making ready to go to bed, the widow told the bear, "You may stay here and lie by the hearth, if you like, so that you will be sheltered from the cold and from the bad weather."

The offer was accepted, but when morning came, as the day broke in the east, the two children let him out, and over the snow he went back into the wood.

After this, every evening at the same time the bear came, lay by the fire, and allowed the children to play with him; so they became quite fond of their curious playmate, and the door was not ever bolted in the evening until he had appeared.

When spring-time came, and all around began to look green and bright, one morning the bear said to Snow-White, "Now I must leave you, and all the summer long I shall not be able to come back."

"Where, then, are you going, dear Bear?" asked Snow-White.

"I have to go to the woods to protect my treasure from the bad dwarfs. In winter-time, when the earth is frozen hard, they must remain underground, and cannot make their way through: but now that the sunshine has thawed the earth they can come to the surface, and whatever gets into their hands, or is brought to their caves, seldom, if ever, again sees daylight."

Snow-White was very sad when she said good-bye to the good-natured beast, and unfastened the door, that he might go; but in going out he was caught by a hook in the lintel, and a scrap of his fur being torn, Snow-White thought there was something shining like gold through the rent: but he went out so quickly that she could not feel certain what it was, and soon he was hidden among the trees.

One day the mother sent her children into the wood to pick up sticks. They found a big tree lying on the ground. It had been felled, and towards the roots they noticed something skipping and springing, which they could not make out, as it was sometimes hidden in the grasses. As they came nearer they could see it was a dwarf, with a shrivelled-up face and a snow-white beard an ell long. The beard was fixed in a gash in the tree trunk, and the tiny fellow was hopping to and fro, like a dog at the end of a string, but he could not manage to free himself. He stared at the children with his red, fiery eyes, and called out, "Why are you standing there? Can't you come and try to help me?"

"What were you doing, little fellow?" inquired Rose-Red.

"Stupid, inquisitive goose!" replied the dwarf; "I meant to split the trunk, so that I could chop it up for kitchen sticks; big logs would burn up the small quantity of food we cook, for people like us do not consume great heaps of food, as you heavy, greedy folk do. The bill-hook I had driven in, and soon I should have done what I required; but the tool suddenly sprang from the cleft, which so quickly shut up again that it caught my handsome white beard; and here I must stop, for I cannot set myself free. You stupid pale-faced creatures! You laugh, do you?"

In spite of the dwarf's bad temper, the girls took all possible pains to release the little man, but without avail, the beard could not be moved, it was wedged too tightly.

"I will run and get someone else," said Rose-Red.

"Idiot!" cried the dwarf. "Who would go and get more people? Already there are two too many. Can't you think of something better?"

"Don't be so impatient," said Snow-White. "I will try to think." She clapped her hands as if she had discovered a remedy, took out her scissors, and in a moment set the dwarf free by cutting off the end of his beard.

Immediately the dwarf felt that he was free he seized a sack full of gold that was hidden amongst the tree's roots, and, lifting it up, grumbled out, "Clumsy creatures, to cut off a bit of my beautiful beard, of which I am so proud! I leave the cuckoos to pay you for what you did." Saying this, he swung the sack across his shoulder, and went off, without even casting a glance at the children.

Not long afterwards the two sisters went to angle in the brook, meaning to catch fish for dinner. As they were drawing near the water they perceived something, looking like a large grasshopper, springing towards the stream, as if it were going in. They hurried up to see what it might be, and found that it was the dwarf. "Where are you going?" said Rose-Red. "Surely you will not jump into the water?"

"I'm not such a simpleton as that!" yelled the little man. "Don't you see that a wretch of a fish is pulling me in?"

The dwarf had been sitting angling from the side of the stream when, by ill-luck, the wind had entangled his beard in his line, and just afterwards a big fish taking the bait, the unamiable little fellow had not sufficient strength to pull it out; so the fish had the advantage, and was dragging the dwarf after it. Certainly, he caught at every stalk and spray near him, but that did not assist him greatly; he was forced to follow all the twistings of the fish, and was perpetually in danger of being drawn into the brook.

The girls arrived just in time. They caught hold of him firmly and endeavored to untwist his beard from the line, but in vain; they were too tightly entangled. There was nothing left but again to make use of the scissors; so they were taken out, and the tangled portion was cut off.

When the dwarf noticed what they were about, he exclaimed in a great rage, "Is this how you damage my beard? Not content with making it shorter before, you are now making it still smaller, and completely spoiling it. I shall not ever dare show my face to my friends. I wish you had missed your way before you took this road." Then he fetched a sack of pearls that lay among the rushes, and, not saying another word, hobbled off and disappeared behind a large stone.

Soon after this it chanced that the poor widow sent her children to the town to purchase cotton, needles, ribbon, and tape. The way to the town ran over a common, on which in every direction large masses of rocks were scattered about. The children's attention was soon attracted to a big bird that hovered in the air. They remarked that, after circling slowly for a time, and gradually getting nearer to the ground, it all of a sudden pounced down amongst a mass of rock. Instantly a heartrending cry reached their ears, and, running quickly to the place, they saw, with horror, that the eagle had seized their former acquaintance, the dwarf, and was just about to carry him off. The kind children did not hesitate for an instant. They took a firm hold of the little man, and strove so stoutly with the eagle for possession of his contemplated prey, that, after much rough treatment on both sides, the dwarf was left in the hands of his brave little friends, and the eagle took to flight.

As soon as the little man had in some measure recovered from his alarm, his small squeaky, cracked voice was heard saying, "Couldn't you have held me more gently? See my little coat; you have rent and damaged it in a fine manner, you clumsy, officious things!" Then he picked up a sack of jewels, and slipped out of sight behind a piece of rock.

The maidens by this time were quite used to his ungrateful, ungracious ways; so they took no notice of it, but went on their way, made their purchases, and then were ready to return to their happy home.

On their way back, suddenly, once more they ran across their dwarf friend. Upon a clear space he had turned out his sack of jewels, so that he could count and admire them, for he had not imagined that anybody would at so late an hour be coming across the common.

The setting sun was shining upon the brilliant stones, and their changing hues and sparkling rays caused the children to pause to admire them also.

"What are you gazing at?" cried the dwarf, at the same time becoming red with rage; "and what are you standing there for, making ugly faces?" It is probable that he might have proceeded in the same complimentary manner, but suddenly a great growl was heard near by them, and a big black bear joined the party. Up jumped the dwarf in extremest terror, but could not get to his hiding-place, the bear was too close to him; so he cried out in very evident anguish—

"Dear Mr. Bear, forgive me, I pray! I will render to you all my treasure. Just see those precious stones lying there! Grant me my life! What would you do with such an insignificant little fellow? You would not notice me between your teeth. See, though, those two children, they would be delicate morsels, and are as plump as partridges; I beg of you to take them, good Mr. Bear, and let me go!"

But the bear would not be moved by his speeches. He gave the ill-disposed creature a blow with his paw, and he lay lifeless on the ground.

Meanwhile the maidens were running away, making off for home as well as they could; but all of a sudden they were stopped by a well-known voice that called out, "Snow-White, Rose-Red, stay! Do not fear. I will accompany you."

The bear quickly came towards them, but, as he reached their side, suddenly the bear-skin slipped to the ground, and there before them was standing a handsome man, completely garmented in gold, who said—

"I am a king's son, who was enchanted by the wicked dwarf lying over there. He stole my treasure, and compelled me to roam the woods transformed into a big bear until his death should set me free. Therefore he has only received a well-deserved punishment."

Some time afterwards Snow-White married the Prince, and Rose-Red his brother.

They shared between them the enormous treasure which the dwarf had collected in his cave.

The old mother spent many happy years with her children.

[yo-momsin-mybed]

Admit it (jalim)

Summary: Nick and Jason talk things over after the events that took place, it was an innocent conversation at first, simply going over what happened together. But once they started talking about Rachel, a certain question arose in nicks head.

Note: everyone survived, Nick and Rachel are together, and Salim is being questioned during this.

Jason felt a lump form in his throat, he was clenching the railing under the big one way mirror in front of him.

"Kolchek, what's good?" Nick laughed placing a hard hand on Jason back, looking into the window as well.

Salim was chained to the table, a bit of fresh blood smeared on his forehead.

"He doesn't look to good," he commented again searching for a reaction from Jason.

But there was none, "how's the love triangle?" Jason laughed before hesitantly stepping away from the window.

Nick started laughing more, slumping himself in the chair across the hallway, "Rachel officially dumped ol' Eric King, she told him "you can't always fix what's broken"" nick mimicked, smiling proudly.

"I seen you two eye balling each other up in the helicopter, man, I'm surprised Eric let you live,"

Nick laughed again in return, his eyes fixated themselves behind Jason. The gaurd was swiftly throwing a punch towards Salim.

"Holy shit," he said standing up.

"They've been doing it all day, I tried- I tried talking to them," Jason shook his head and looked away

The room around them went silent

"You like him don't you," Nick said breaking the silence

"Yeah, I mean, hes a good guy, y'know-"

"No, no, Jason, you-"

"Shut up," Jason hissed turning sharply towards Nick, "sorry, I- I just"

"You've never felt like this? You feel like a little girl with a crush?" Nick laughed

"I- I don't know, I guess,"

"Man stop guessing yourself," Nick placed his hand back on jasons shoulder, "I think you should talk to him,"

"Yeah right, fuck no"

"What? What's the worst that can happen?"

"He ain't gay, hell two days ago if you even brought up gay around me I wouldn't even think of it"

"I think you'll be surprised," Nick shook his head, walking away.

5 minutes passed and finally the gaurd was done questioning him, releasing him back into Jason's care.

In those 5 minutes Jason thought more then he ever did before, everything in his life was starting to make sense, he always denied it.

"I think I'm gay," Jason blurted out once it was just him and Salim in their shared quarantine room.

"Okay?" Salim answered caught off guard a bit, "I'm happy for you?"

"No, no like," Jason took a shakey breath and sat down, "I hardly know you and your all I think about you, I don't even think I remember your last name,"

Salim smiled down at Jason who was now on one of the two beds in the room, "I know it's hard," Salim said, taking a seat next to Jason, "how long have you known?"

"Like ten minutes," Jason said honestly, "I never thought of it until," Jason stopped and looked up a bit, "God this is cheesy," he groaned

"Until we met?" Salim laughed, "I have to admit we have quite the connection,"

"I'm sorry man, this is probably so weird,"

"Compaired to vampires? I'd say this is pretty normal,"

Jason laughed, pushing Salim with his shoulder a bit, "do you have this affect on people often?" Jason flirted

"Actually your the first," Salim laughed, "what I'm trying to say Jason, is that this is okay, and normal,"

"Is there something between us?" Jason asked impulsively, nearly gagging on the words in fear

Salim didn't say anything, which didn't help Jason's nerves much, the nervousness quickly turned into relaxation.

Salim closed the gap between them, his hand trailing down Jason back, and gliding up his chest.

He pulled away and looked at Jason, "does that answer your question?"

Instead of answering Jason quickly connected their lips once more.

Bonus:

Nick and Rachel sat in the cafeteria area, eating their breakfast peacefully.

"Kolcheks been acting off, you think it has to do with the iraqi?" Rachel asked alwardly

"Oh for sure, what kind of person runs into hell like that AGAIN just to save someone they just met"

"Do you think he has a crush," Rachel laughed

"More like a boyfriend," Nick nodded over to the two men in the cafeteria, both curled up again the wall sharing stories about their past.

"Okay but they are really cute," Rachel said gazing at the two.

[masterjacobofficialblog]

Babee Mark, edit

Although Mark's birthday is not coming soon, but I can't help but share some other information about AU stuff.

The birth of Mark arose in an interesting way. The fact is that on their planet, everyone except the citizens of Bunny Island and Frowntown are born with the help of love and IIF (In Incubatio Fertilisation), thereby preventing the occurrence of extramarital, unplanned and teenage pregnancies. This decision was made during the time of Unikitty and Puppycorn's mother, Princess Unica. Therefore, citizens of all regions, except two, were completely unaware of how they made children initially, except for Bricks, which have one initially convenient way of birth.

Once upon a time Dr. Fox, as a man of science, decided to investigate the nature of people, their origin, but learned about the "ceremony" between two people (most often between a man and a woman), which the so-called "Legoids" entertained themselves by first kissing themselves and removing their limbs, and then proceeded to more complex things, after what eventually fall into ecstasy. The fox could not share this seemingly "sinful" thing, so she created devices and various partners for herself in order to achieve ecstasy..... But Hawkodile appeared in her life, she realized that she could trust him with her secrets and she told him about many of them, including this....

And everything seemed to be fine until Dr. Fox did not notice that it became physically difficult for her and began to suspect a parasite or an alien form of cancer inside her, since her own computers were, unfortunately, with limited information and did not know about the concept of "pregnancy". If Dr. Bunny had not come to their aid, they might have lost Dr. Fox as "the most cunning and intelligent royal scientist and a close friend of Princess Unikitty." And also, if not for this "squad", Hawkodile and Fox probably would not have been able to have their own child even in an incubator and with their genetics.

Speaking of the condition, Fox's pregnancy was not easy due to the fact that she constantly wanted to occupy herself with some project, but other members of the Unigang and hers robots-helpers had to do it. However, it did her good, because from the point of view of psychology and education, and just taught her affection, despite the discomfort inside the body.

But some of the fears of both future parents about the genetics of their child were justified: after birth, Mark was born a little weak, very sensitive to direct light rays, and there were no bones in his wings. This upset Hawk, but he understood that there was no point in saving his wings, which is why they decided to cut them out.

Much later, there were more wool-feathers, and his fangs and claws formed so quickly that Puppycorn had to arrange a competition about gnawing bones.

[creepymarshmallow3]

"Butterflies in the Stomach" incident

(WARNING: trypophobia)

Stephon - this trollge is based on philophobia (fear of falling in love or becoming attached to someone). In the past, he was a rather shy and insecure guy, he had a hobby - collecting moths and butterflies. He was very much in love with a girl in his college. She was the most popular and beautiful in his class. He was very afraid to confess his feelings to her. He helped her if the opportunity arose, but she reacted weakly to this. One day, he decided to confess his love to her. He got it all. She said that she also loved him and had long wanted to say this, he was very happy, he literally flew with joy, and was not himself. He went on walks with her, on dates, almost the entire college knew about it, seeing how happy the guy was. He found and looked for any reason to see her. But... when he once again went on a date with her, she told him to come to the alley and wait for her. Blinded by love, the poor fellow agreed. But when he arrived at the place, he was met by some guys who were stronger than him. They are his kidnappers. Stefon woke up in a dark room, and when the light turned on, his girlfriend appeared. He asked her for help, but she laughed. She told him that she lied to him and that he was just a stupid toy for her. The guy couldn't believe it, those meetings and those words, lies? After that, five of the girl's friends started beating him. But suddenly one shouted: "He is not breathing!". The teenagers panicked, but then decided to just run away, leaving the body in the same room.

In his trollge form, he lacks eyes, instead of them only a cluster of holes, from which bright moths periodically appear, accompanying him everywhere. He is wearing his old coat and pants from a past life. He is quite secretive and taciturn. he does not like it when someone discusses him or his feature on the face. He ignores any relationship and affection for anyone, fearing that he will be passed on again as in the past. It is very easy to make him blush when he hears compliments, but he usually covers his face at such moments. He is still interested in butterflies and moths, he no longer collects them.

He kidnaps his victims in uninhabited places (lanes, outskirts of cities), catching them, he brings them to the room where he was killed, and he begins to ask questions that need to be answered with the truth. If the victim lies, which he learns from the reaction of her body, he begins to injure her by stabbing with a knife or an axe. If the victim answered truthfully, then he does not harm her, but does not let go, waiting for the moment when he lies, and then he will kill her.

He is not interested in other trollges, except for those who just want to chat without touching on the topic of relationships.

[vincentkeehl]

Four Lessons from Baphometrix’s “Clip-To-Zero” Production Method

(or why loudness only matters as much as it does)

Baphometrix’s CTZ (clip-to-zero method) encompasses just about everything I wanted to know about loudness when I first started producing. I don’t adhere to it religiously, but the lessons it’s taught me about dynamics in digital mixing are priceless. Baphy clearly delineates how mixing choices affect overall loudness in a way I’ve never found anywhere else. After years of asking about loudness on forums and being repeatedly told by old heads to more-or-less not worry about it, CTZ was like fresh air. I highly recommend Baphometrix’s long and hyper-detailed video series to anyone seeking in- depth lectures on how to push a digital mix louder. For anyone seeking something more concise, I will share with you my favorite bits. But first, let’s understand what CTZ is with respect to traditional methods of mixing.

CTZ represents a hard break from conventional mixing. Conventional mixing methods largely arose from the limitations of analog technology. Analog compressors, amplifiers, and mixers are known for having a wonderful “color” to them. This is a gift and a curse. It’s a gift, because the gear itself is able to impart a special warmth or tonality to the mix that purely digital workstations can only mimic at best. Analog heads love their gear for a reason. It’s also a curse, though, because this warmth is technically just noise and distortion. Analog equipment can’t be pushed very hard before the processing becomes obvious, or even ugly. Also, the signal coming into an analog mixer needs to be kept lower than it would in a digital interface. This is because a hot signal can often distort an analog channel, even if doesn’t actually clip! So to get the most out of analog dynamics processing, the conventional wisdom came to be that compressors, limiters, and the like should be applied gently, carefully, and incrementally. And even when working digitally, this approach still works wonders for the people who practice it. When you watch an engineer work this way, it’s like they begin with a mellow mix and massage it upwards into a loud and clear form, sculpting and adding color as they go.

CTZ on the other hand, is a mixing discipline for the digital age. Rather than the “color” or “warmth” sought by other mixing methods, CTZ prioritizes loudness and fidelity. It maintains the track’s cleanliness and transparency, while keeping the mix as flush against 0db as it can. This of course comes with some caveats. Firstly, it assumes that you are working completely in-the-box. It needs you to commit to sterile, digital compression. It depends on you being able to create as many tracks, sends, and groups as you want. Secondly, while it can be used on any genre, it was developed specifically for bassy EDM tracks. When DJs at live venues mix an EDM set, they don’t always perfectly gain stage the songs within it for equal loudness. This means that a dance track which sounds perfectly fine on your home speakers might end up sounding quieter and weaker than the other songs in the mix, if it happens to get thrown in the wrong way. Because of this potential variance, it’s advantageous for the EDM producers to err on the loud side when mixing their music, to ensure that it sounds powerful and exciting when the DJ plays it. This is the core focus of CTZ.

Because it departs so far from accepted mixing traditions, CTZ is often criticized to an unfair extent. Yes, it’s a little out there and it fetishizes loudness, but it also kicks ass as what it was built to. As someone who’s studied and sees the value in both worlds, I feel compelled to advocate for CTZ. Here are four things CTZ taught me that sources on conventional mixing did not.

1. I Can’t Believe The Oscilloscope is Actually Useful

When you achieve loudness by slamming the master bus through a brick-wall limiter (as was common at the height of the loudness wars), you get a big fat loud-ass rectangular waveform. But at what cost? If you look up the first CD remasters of Michael Jackson’s pre-CD music, you’d probably be appalled at the distortion. It was ugly. When older engineers would tell me about the loudness wars, I assumed they were being hysterical. This was because I was younger than them, and had missed the worst period of what they were talking about. After all, the digital remasters I was listening to sounded fine! But in time, I found out that yes, the very first wave of CD remasters really were that crazy. It’s as if the engineers of that time were huffing paint or something. They thought all that distortion was worth it for a fat, sausage waveform.

The oscilloscope allows us to sort out this conflict between loudness and fidelity, navigating through the best of both worlds. Mixing may be done with the ears, but the oscilloscope gives the eyes important clues about about how well we’re filling the mix out. It allows us to empirically test how our mixing decisions affect the fatness of the mix’s waveform. By watching the oscilloscope as you shape elements and mix them in, you can see how your choices are contributing to the overall volume while aurally confirming that it still sounds right. That means you can visually see that you are building that sausage waveform organically, minimizing the amount of squashing the final limiter has to do.

2. Hard Clipping is Cool as Hell

When I was a total beginner, I would hear a lot about clipping. Specifically, I would hear that it was bad and you shouldn’t let it happen. And to be fair, this is good advice to give to a beginner. Clipping could cause them to mess up their recordings or gain stage in a crazy or unworkable way. The idea is that when you clip, you distort. And that’s true! But what they don’t tell you is that any kind of dynamics processing causes distortion. It turns out, a little controlled clipping on an element here or there is often the perfect way to boost it without having to hear the compression. Compared to typical compressing or limiting, a hard clipper provides exceptionally clean output gain, acting only upon the the loudest peaks and keeping attack/release pumping to the bare minimum. Normal compression is still good for imparting musicality and shaping the envelopes of sounds, of course. But if you’ve already done that to an element and still need a way to push it hotter without changing its vibe, try a hard clipper! For tonal elements like guitar and piano, you’ll be surprised how far you can push it before you notice the distortion.

3. You Can Get Away with More Sidechain Compression and Ducking than You Think

One core idea of CTZ is “checkerboarding.” The idea of checkerboarding is to reduce the amount of work your final bus limiter or master limiter has to do by minimizing how much the elements overlap. You try to keep each piece clearly defined and separate, like tiles on a checkerboard. This will keep the dynamic peaks of the mix more balanced and manageable, so we can turn the mix up way more at the end. We already kind of do this when we use EQ to give elements their own little space, partitioning them by their spectral makeup. Another way to do this is by making sure big elements don’t occur at the same time, such as arranging a song to have kick drums only on every quarter-note and big bass notes only on every other eighth-note. But if you’re already past the arranging and EQ, another way to checkerboard your elements is with sidechain compression and ducking.

Imagine I didn’t have the foresight to arrange my kick and bass in the way that I described earlier. Imagine I put the bass on every eight note. Now in the mix, the bass and the kick will overlap, forming needlessly tall transients that run too hot into the final limiter. But I can separate these elements a bit by sidechaining the bass to the kick, so that it “ducks” out of the way of the kick transient as much as possible. If you set the compressor attack to hard-zero and play around with the other parameters, you’ll be surprised how much you can duck things without creating the “pumping” effect that sidechain compression is known for. It’s a great tool for precisely tucking a transient element into a steady one without relying on glue compression, which would squash them together in a less controlled, more obvious way. If you’re willing to create an intricate scheme of bus groups, ducking your steady elements around your transient ones, you can squeeze a lot of extra juice out of your mix without much impact on how it sounds. Often, when my mix is too dynamic, I will go through and duck all my major elements in this way, just short of making it noticeable. When I come back to the master bus, I find that with the overlap of elements controlled, the peaks are much milder and I have way more headroom to turn the mix up.

4. The Kick Drum Envelope Should Look Like a Dorito

Getting the kick drum right is hard. Sometimes it sounds nice and punchy when you start mixing, but by the end you’re only hearing the transient and missing the body. Or maybe you have the opposite problem— it sounds big and heavy at the beginning, but by the end you’re only hearing the body and missing the punch. Why do kick drums go off the rails at the end like that? I’ll tell you: Having the kick decay too suddenly or having the transient too high ends up overemphasizing the transient. That leaves it sounding clicky and abrupt. Having the kick decay too late or having the transient too low ends up overemphasizing the body. That makes it sound flat and weak. The sweet spot between these two decay patterns? A line drive.

In order to have the kick drum both punch through the mix and have a strong body, a good rule of thumb is to make sure the waveform looks like a Dorito. By this I mean, the initial transient should be the highest amplitude, and the body should follow a straight line from that amplitude to silence. No matter how long the decay is, try to keep it shorter than the period in between kicks, and make sure it’s shaped like a triangle. This can be accomplished by only using Dorito kicks in the first place, or forcing your kicks to conform to this shape with dynamics processing. Like all heuristics, there are exceptions to this. But for typical dance music, this will ensure that your kick drum stays punchy and dominant, while using up as little headroom as possible. And you know what extra headroom means? We can crank the volume higher later on.

The Valid Criticisms of CTZ, and Why the Loudness Wars are Over

Critics of this particular method and the general pursuit of loudness are right about one thing: the loudness war is over. Direct competition of music recordings on the basis of loudness is a holdover from a previous era. Let’s talk about that era. For a brief period at the zenith of CD’s and mp3 files, there was a special set of circumstances that gave audio engineers both the ability and the motive to push tracks to incredible loudnesses, often at the expense of quality and fidelity. The ability to do so came from the introduction of computers to analog studios. By incorporating DAWs and computer plug-ins in their workflow, music makers were no longer bound by the limitation of analog production. They gained access to digital gain and digital compression— harder and cleaner methods of increasing loudness than they had ever imagined possible.

The motive to crank it came from the forms of popular music at the time. CD players and iPods did not normalize the music played by its perceived loudness. If they normalized the levels at all, it was by the average volumes of the tracks. Volume is related to loudness, but differs in that it only represent the electric signal needed to produce the sound— not how loud it feels to our ears! This meant that in those days, the loudness of a finished track was entirely up to the people who made it. There was no platform to turn the music up or down for the end listener, nor any penalty for a track for being too loud. Songs and albums were exactly as loud to the listener as the engineers printed them to be. And as you probably already know, listeners are generally biased to favor louder versions of the same sound.

It’s common sense when you think about it. If you’re a pop, rock, or hip-hop musician at this time in history, your audience is rapidly switching between your CDs and their other CDs in the disc player. They’re shuffling your raw mp3 files together with all the other ones in their iPod. Wouldn’t you want your track to feel bigger and stronger than the others? Wouldn’t you want it to stand out?

One (one) good thing about the streaming services which replaced those disc players and iPods, such as Spotify and YouTube, is that they normalize audio based on loudness. They do this by weighting the volume of a track against the distribution of its signal across the frequency spectrum, giving more weight to the frequencies we are more sensitive to. This ensures that almost everything, respective of genre and tone, sits around the same level. Today, we still have the ability to to crank audio to crazy- high levels. But because loudness normalization has become standard, pushing the loudness of a track past the target loudness platforms normalize for no longer makes it sound any louder to the end user. The incentive to crank it is no longer there.

But even now that loudness normalization is ubiquitous, it’s still important understand and have control over loudness. Even platforms who normalize this way still have optimal loudness ranges, within which tracks are sufficiently loud without being affected much by the normalization. The target for streaming is around -16 Lufs to -12Lufs. Plus, in other audio media such as audiobooks and certain podcast platforms, hard loudness requirements are common. So it’s definitely still important to know how to increase the loudness of your mix in a controlled, precise way. You may even need to cool your mix down, reversing CTZ thought to precisely add dynamics rather than compress them out.

It’s for these reasons that I wanted to synthesize CTZ with conventional mixing, yielding four simple heuristics for managing loudness within a digital mix. But always remember, loudness is a perceptual quality to our ears— not a number on a meter. LUFS and waveforms, as useful as they are, are merely tools to help us understand what we’re hearing. Ultimately, the best way to sound loud is to produce and work with material that sounds loud in the first place. Beyond that, it comes down to processing. So whichever side of the CTZ debate you’re on, these four distillations are fantastic tools to get the loudness and dynamics of your mix exactly where you want them.

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