#ancient law code

[covenawhite66]

Written by King Antiochus ruling Commagene from (69–34 BC).

From the Kingdom of Commagene a kingdom influenced by the Persian Empire and the Greco-Roman World.

[lightningwaters]

[dannyriccsystem]

hi angel i loved your carlos soulmate fic !!! could you do a soulmate au with oscar please??

YOU’RE MINE, ALRIGHT?

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

SUMMARY: Oscar’s your soulmate, but he’s certain that you’re not his.

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

WARNINGS: Light angst w happy ending, soulmate au, Y/N usage, not proofread

FEATURING: Oscar Piastri x Model Soulmate!Reader

I’m sooo tired it’s bed time for me 🥱

Since as far back as mankind can recall, soulmates have been embedded into the universe’s coding. Ancient drawing on cave walls and old decoded passages tell fabled stories of two hearts that become one is a dazzling spectacle of shimmering lights. Your classic love story followed the mindless laws of life to a T, always beautifully describing the event that transpires upon the kiss of your beloved.

It was a simple set of details and instructions to guide you in meeting your other half. Everyone came into the world with a unique mark upon their skin— It could be anywhere from head to toe, and it didn’t even have to be in a spot that was typically visible. It was in a spot with a design specific to you, the only other person bearing such a unique feature would be the one you’re meant to be with forever.

Your mark was always appraised. Perhaps it wasn’t in the most convenient spot for the sake of the hunt, but it was downright gorgeous. Detailed angel wings were folded up on your back, covering the entire surface in the dark tattoo-like ink. Everyone who had the opportunity to perceive it found themselves in awe, jealous of such a beautiful design.

You, however, were not pleased. It was unfortunate to have your mark be located in a place most people kept hidden. You had to wonder if you had ever passed by your destined lover, unaware it was them because their shirt was concealing the truth from you. You truly tried everything from dating apps to display your tattoo to online forums dedicated to finding your soulmate, but if they were out there, they stayed silent.

It was tiring to constantly be putting in all the work. If the universe wanted you to be with this person so badly, why did they make it so difficult for you to find them in the first place? Were you doing something wrong? Maybe you were unintentionally avoiding all the sign, but then again… Maybe they simply weren’t obvious enough.

You want to be bold and make a statement. If they’re out there, you’re going to make one final move that calls out to them. With your career as a model, you had a face that was easily recognizable. However, you carried yourself with humility and a humble attitude. Just because you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing your own mug plastered on every screen and billboard doesn’t mean you have the right to act like it.

You requested a shoot for a fashion designer, particularly intrigued by the open-back dress she had just released for public view. She was delighted to have a high class model like yourself reach out and you two set up a date for the arrangement. It was the day of, and you were currently waiting in the spot you both agreed on.

When she got there, you explained your unique situation to her. She took the news quite well, and offered to feature one photo of your back in the shoot, and hopefully aid you in your final step of the search. After this, if things didn’t work out, you’d finally give in and let love come to you instead. Besides, you were a successful woman living off your own job. You didn’t need love— You were simply itching to find out.

The photos blew up, as they always do, but this time the vibes were different. You had every single fan admiring your mark, leaving sweet comments on how lucky you were to be born with such an elegant tattoo on your back. You’d reply and tell them you were certain theirs was just as lovely, and then either find yourself aww-ing or laughing depending on what it was.

It didn’t take long for expert sleuths on the internet to get to work, and it didn’t take long for the results, either. Being famous had its perks. Your fanbase had a wide range of interests, which meant when one internet user in particular laid eyes on your tattoo, they were instantly able to put two and two together.

To avoid making a scene in your comments, they decided to shoot you a private message at the risk of you never receiving it. It read simply, “Hey girl, about your soulmate mark… I think you might be looking for famous F1 driver, Oscar Piastri.” Attached to their message was an image of him post-race, his uniform pushed down to rest on his hips, while the top of his fireproof was just slightly lifted as he used it to wipe sweat from his face.

He had a strong back and a thin waist, but that’s all you could see about his physical appearance— Aside from the obvious. Just barely peeking out was the tips of a pair of wings, folded in a similar position as your own. You didn’t need a comparison, because you were certain; that was the mark you had been staring at all your life.

You thanked the person who brought it to your attention, playing it off as if they weren’t a match, despite the fact they very clearly were. With this newfound information and a slight skip in your heartbeat, you decided to look the guy up. He was indeed quite famous, and his life seemed very busy. He was always traveling for racing, posting pictures in different areas of the world, and lots of pictures featuring a pretty trophy. Impressive. Your soulmate was a winner.

This was it. You had found the person you spent twenty-three years looking for, and all you could muster up the courage for was a message, and a very straightforward one at that. “Hey” you’d begin, unsure if you would even manage to catch his attention. You just hoped that the blue check mark beside your name would push him into a response. “I’m your soulmate.” You attached an image of your back as proof.

Of course, he didn’t respond for about a day. You were sure it was because he wasn’t someone who was very active, but the more intelligent side of your brain told you that he simply was ignoring you, trying to think of a response to that. What about one even say? Not even you knew.

“Sorry mate, you’ve got the wrong guy. I already found mine.” That response was enough to shatter your heart. Right when you thought the search was over, you were met with the biggest rejection of all. You weren’t sure what hurt worse: Thinking someone was your soulmate and being wrong, or never knowing to begin with. You scrolled through his page once more, finding that he did indeed have a girlfriend— Probably his soulmate.

You had been so sure, too. It was hard to believe that your instincts led you in the wrong direction.

This certainly wasn’t the end, though. The comments finally started to flood in as more and more people connected the dots. You got thousands of messages informing you that this Oscar Piastri guy was the one for you, and you could almost guarantee he was getting the same thing. One person being wrong seemed like a viable explanation, but when more people started to tell you the same thing, you began to grow suspicious.

Maybe it wasn’t your business to ask about someone else’s relationship, but it was your business to ask your potential soulmate if they were lying to you. It was hard to face the man you had just recently embarrassed yourself in front of, but you managed. “I know you said I was wrong, but our marks are identical. I just want to know the truth.” You deserved the truth, right? Soulmates were meant to be honest with one another.

He responded immediately this time. It was like he had been there in the chat too, drafting up his own message. It was somewhat intimidating. “Fine.” You could hear his frustration, and it somewhat angered you. Was it so wrong for wanting to know if you had truly found your soulmate or not? “You’re not my soulmate. But I want to make it very clear I’m already in a happy relationship.”

“I understand.” That concluded your conversation. You hated that he dismissed you so easily, but you also understood. Lots of people dated others who weren’t their true love, because it wasn’t exactly an easy task to complete. But dating someone else when you had the right person standing right in front of you felt like a cruel joke.

If he wanted to be that way, you could too.

Being a model meant you ran on a strict schedule that other people planned out for you. Your agency was very busy, always looking for new opportunities to promote your brand and lifestyle to the public. The public opinion on you seemed to be high, considering you as one of the more relatable and influential celebrities out there.

Today was a big step in your career for multiple reasons. You were going to be featuring as a guest at a Formula One race. Not only was that a huge event, but for the first time in probably ever, you’d end up within a mile of Oscar Piastri, who was undeniably meant to be yours.

You wanted to flaunt yourself. You wore that same open-back dress you modeled ages ago now, feeling confident as you strode through the chaos of the paddock. Even without your soulmate mark on full display, the dress itself was very flattering. You received lots of compliments in under a minute, fueling your ego.

You recognized a lot of faces, mostly ones that went down a similar path as you. Lots of the other wives and girlfriends were models themselves— Models whom you looked up to, considering their years of experience and expert knowledge in the field. You greeted one of them, Rebecca Donaldson.

You recognized her boyfriend, Carlos. Beside him was a guy in a bright orange shirt with tan skin and curly hair. He seemed quite friendly, waiting to introduce himself as you chatted away with Rebecca. Finally realizing your impolite behavior, you stopped and held a hand out for both of the other men, who shook it individually.

“Sorry, I seem to have forgotten to introduce myself. Y/N.” You nodded, and followed your example. The younger one was Lando Norris, a racer for Mclaren. Your soulmate’s teammate.

You dismissed yourself, continuing to walk through the ground of the paddock, running into various fans of your own, or even vice versa: people you were fans of. It had been a delight so far, but all good things must come to a mortal demise. Oscar had spotted you at the same time you spotted him, and he didn’t seem terribly happy.

“What are you doing here?” He questioned. It sounded hostile, but his face was more monotone than anything. “I already told you, I’m not interested.”

This somewhat angered you. Maybe it was a fair assumption to make, but that didn’t help to soften the blow in the slightest. You clenched your jaw, and then took a deep breath before responding, “I’m not here for you.” With that being said, you turned around and walked away; allowing him a good view of your own tattoo.

You didn’t continue to pursue him. He told you he wasn’t interested, and that was just fine with you. Of course, his incessant teammate reached out to you again and again, furthering questioning the undeniable connection between you and Oscar. He claimed to have noticed the tattoo the day you met him, and put two and two together, since he had seen it on his teammate’s back before.

He’d bother you about your plan, trying to create schemes to put you two together. Lando’s timing was impeccable, because you just naturally assumed that Oscar’s new liking sprees were a setup caused by the slightly older man. You’d get a string of notifications letting you know that Oscar had liked your most recent posts all together, implying the stalking of your account.

You figured it could have been anything. Maybe it was for PR, or maybe it was unintentional. What you didn’t expect was his sudden message. “We got off on the wrong foot. Do you want to meet for coffee some time?”

You wanted to have a ‘take that’ moment and brutally reject him, but you found yourself softening at the idea of finally getting the opportunity to meet the person who was quite literally destined to be your boyfriend. So, even though it took some thinking, you said yes.

Come the date of said day, you chose to dress casually this time. The dress at the race was a statement, but your goal here was to have a nice time, and not to intimidate him. So, you opted to wear a nice shirt with some jeans. Still nice, but not overly dressed. You met over coffee, sharing a small table in the corner of the cafe.

You took note of how his knees would accidentally brush against yours when he leaned back in his seat, and of how his feet would idly kick at yours under the table. It all felt so familiar as you slowly warmed up to each other, sharing funny stories and catching up just like old friends would do— Except you weren’t. This was the first time meeting, and it was going so well it almost hurt to part ways.

Being the gentleman he is, Oscar offered to take you home so you wouldn’t have to walk. It was late now, both of you spending hours until evening transformed into a pitch black night sky. You admired him as he drove, smiling softly to yourself. He looked so focused as his strong arms held the wheel, only looking away from the road to sneak glances at you, and then quickly look away thinking you didn’t notice.

You did.

He dropped you off, and you slowly dragged your feet to your front door. You didn’t want it to be over— He had been a delight, but he also had a girlfriend, and you couldn’t handle the pressure of being a home-wrecker. So, even though your mind screamed to run back and kiss him, you didn’t. You kept going until you reached the front door and were forced to stop.

“My girlfriend broke up with me.” He stated blatantly from behind you. That was all he said before you peered over your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

“Goodnight, Oscar.” You slyly slipped inside, locking it behind you.

“Goodnight,” He muttered after you were long gone.

You felt stupid the next day. It should have been clear to you that he was trying to tell you something; he was trying to tell you that he was available. That he really was your soulmate, and he was willing to accept that fact now, instead of continuously pushing you away. Now it was your turn to be the one pulling back.

You were bedridden the next day. Not from a physically sickness, but from the weird feeling in your gut that made you want to throw up anyway. You should have said something. Something other than ‘Goodnight, Oscar!’ You made a complete fool out of yourself.

He texted you around the afternoon, asking if you slept well. You told him yes, but unintentionally threw your excuse out there. “I’m feeling a little sick,” you’d throw it out unprompted. He didn’t respond, until you heard the knock upon your door. Of course, standing there with a back of items in his hand was Mr. Piastri himself.

He’d ask if he could come in, because he brought some things to help you feel better. You’d say yes, even though he’d now be sure to catch you in your lie. And he did. Oscar cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy as he read your temperature, which seemed perfectly fine.

“I’m not sick,” You finally explained, shame tinging your tone. He set everything down and folded his hands in his lap, patiently waiting for you to continue. “I was trying to avoid you, but I guess I did the opposite.” You laughed weakly, and then shook your head. Bad timing, I suppose.

“Why?” He asked, his voice soft. “You were the one who wanted to find me so bad.” Yeah, you expected that sort of response.

“I just… I feel so nervous now.” You huffed a gentle sigh, leaning your head back with shut eyes. “My feelings are always straightforward, but not when it comes to you. I feel… Complex.”

“Maybe you’re not ready yet,” He stated, and for some reason that hurt even more. It was like the twist of a knife that had already been repeatedly stabbed in you, again and again. “But…” Oscar slowly stood up, turning his back towards you. Without any warning, he lifted his sweatshirt up, unveiling his bare back. There was his tattoo, just as beautiful as yours. “We’re destined to work out just fine.”

It was a positive and refreshing outlook on the situation. You slowly stood, your fingertips reaching out to brush against his inked skin. You traced the lines softly. This was the first time you got to see your mark like this, because it was hard to look at your back. He completed your puzzle perfectly, making it all clear now.

You watched his back muscles twitch and flex as you dragged your nail across the outline of the wings, your face unreadable. You stared at his skin, littered with scars and moles, like it was the hardest math equation in the world. This was a problem for you to solve, but Oscar was the solution.

“You’re right.” You pulled your hand away and stepped back, letting him shimmy back into his cozy hoodie. Oscar pivoted to face you, matching your expression. “I want to love you. I want to give us a chance.”

“Then do it.” You couldn’t help the way your lips twitched into a smile, and considering the way he matched your grin, Oscar couldn’t either.

He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses against your knuckles. You watched as your joined hands erupted in a warm light, sending a tingling sensation through your skin. You locked eyes with him, searching for some sort of guidance. Oscar squeezed your hand tighter.

Upon the first kiss, both bodies would erupt with a beautiful light, slowly beginning the fading process of their matching marks. It left you both giddy, filled with hope for this newfound love.

“We’re gonna work out,” You finally declared, actually able to believe it this time.

[girlactionfigure]

Iran and Israel: an ancient friendship

THE OLDEST DIASPORA

The origins of the Jewish Diaspora can be traced back to modern-day Iran and Iraq. In 587 BCE, the Babylonian Empire conquered the Kingdom of Judah and exiled about 25% of the Judahite (i.e. Jewish) population to Babylon. While the story of the Babylonian Exile is depicted in the Tanakh (i.e. Hebrew Bible), it’s important to note that extensive archeological evidence and Babylonian sources confirm its veracity. 

In 539 BCE, Babylon fell to the Persian Empire, under the command of the Persian emperor Cyrus the Great. That same year,Cyrus liberated the Jewish captives and allowed them to return to the Land of Israel. He also ordered the rebuilding of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem.Approximately 50,000 Jews returned to their homeland; others stayed behind in Iran and Iraq. This marked the beginning of the long, fruitful relationship between the Jews and the Persians.

Biblical historians largely agree that the Torah was compiled as a single cohesive text in Babylon. Some historians date the canonization of the Torah to the Persian period, since the Persians were known to impose policies of nationalized law codes to the ethnic groups under their domain.

THE (FIRST) GOLDEN AGE

For centuries, the Jewish community in Iran flourished under Persian rule. In fact, the period between 247 BCE-633 CE was a golden age of Persian Jewry. 

It’s estimated that Jews amounted to 10-20% of the population in Iran. They lived in peace and enjoyed many freedoms; for example, they had their own courts and institutions providing autonomy over their own communal affairs.

The Babylonian Talmud – a collection of rabbinical writings that provide commentary and interpretation of the Torah - was written between the third and sixth centuries CE, during the golden age of Persian Jewry. 

The golden age came to an end in 633 CE, with the Islamic conquest of Persia. Jews became dhimmis, or second-class citizens subject to extra taxation and discriminatory policies.

ANCIENT PERSIAN "ZIONISM"

Zionism is the Jewish movement for self-determination in the Land of Israel. Though it originated as a political movement in the 19thcentury, it is a movement rooted in three millennia of Jewish history.

As mentioned in slide 3, King Cyrus liberated the Jewish captives in Babylon and supported the reconstruction of the destroyed Jewish Temple. In fact, the term “Zionism” derives from the “Return to Zion,” when the freed captives returned to Jerusalem in 539 BCE.

Lesser known is the fact that just over 1000 years after the Return to Zion, the Persians once again supported the Jewish struggle for self-determination in the Land of Israel. In 614 CE, the Persian king Khosrau II assigned the conquest of the Land of Israel, then under Byzantine rule, to his Persian Jewish troops as a reward for their loyalty. The Persian Jews were enthusiastically joined by the local Jews in Palestine.Together, the Persians, Persian Jews, and Jews of Palestine briefly overthrew the Byzantines and Jerusalem returned to Jewish rule until 617 CE.

THE (SECOND) GOLDEN AGE

After the Islamic conquest of Persia, the situation for Jews in Iran was marked by periods of tolerance and peaceful coexistence and periods of terrible oppression and persecution. 

Then came the Pahlavi Dynasty, known as the (second) golden age of Persian Jewry. It was during this time – particularly under the rule of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi (1941-1979) – that Jewish life in Iran flourished, with the Jewish community enjoying unprecedented social, economic, and cultural mobility. 

Israel and Iran also enjoyed positive relations. In fact, Iran was the second Muslim-majority country to recognize the State of Israel. In the 1960s and 1970s, Iran supplied Israel with oil and the Israeli airline, El Al, operated direct flights from Tel Aviv to Tehran.

Iran-Israel relations crashed following the 1979 Islamic Revolution.60,000-70,000 Jews – out of a total population of 80,000 – fled Iran after the Islamic Republic rose to power.

A COMMON ENEMY

According to Iranian-American policy analyst Karim Sadjapour, the three ideological pillars of the Islamic Republic are “compulsory hijab, death to America, and death to Israel.”

For 46 years, the Islamic Republic has surrounded the State of Israel with its proxy armies – including Hezbollah, Hamas, Palestinian Islamic Jihad, Ansar Allah (the Houthis), and more – with the stated goal of annihilating the Jewish state. Additionally, the Islamic Republic has directed hundreds of terrorist attacks against Jews in the Diaspora, the deadliest of which was the 1994 bombing of a Jewish community center in Buenos Aires, Argentina, killing 85 people. 

Despite decades of regime propaganda, Iranians largely also consider the Islamic Republic their enemy. According to a comprehensive 2022 Gamaan (Group for Analyzing and Measuring Attitudes in Iran) poll, 81% of Iranians inside Iran and 99% of Iranians outside of Iran oppose the Islamic Republic.

rootsmetals

ngl I had absolutely zero plans to write a post 4ish weeks postpartum but the Middle East had other ideas I guess! since my day is 99% sleep deprivation, trying to get baby to sleep, changing diapers, feeding baby, washing bottles, etc I’m leaving the comments closed because I just don’t have the capacity to moderate and ensure the discussion remains respectful 🙃 I just want to remind everyone that Iranians and Jews are NOT enemies. 🦁 My heart is absolutely broken for the people of Iran and Israel and I pray this nightmare comes to an end soon.

[ishtareatsyouforbreakfast]

It is not the first collection of written laws. It is among the first but there are many before it, notably the Code of Ur-Nammu (as of now the oldest that we've found, about 300-400 years older than Hammurabi's laws) or the Code of Eshnunna that is still a few years older. Granted, they both are not preserved on nice stelae, but we have them in writing. The code of Hammurabi borrows heavily from the codes that came before, but of course contains some new laws as well.

The Hammurabi Law Stele - first collection of written laws from the ancient world. 1750 BC - Babylon - Mesopotamia Iraq

[cassiopeiaiaia]

Modern Outsiders Hc's

Two-bit has one of those TikTok accounts where he goes up to random people on the street and asks them stupid questions.

Two-bit: “On a scale of one to wet, how wet do you get when you see Ryan Gosling?”

And he’d pull bitches doing it too.

Two-bit would also be a Temu victim. He has one of those matching bathroom sets of AI Mickey Mouse.

Steve and Two-bit genuinely think brain rot is funny.

They’ll sing the brain rot version of songs in the shower.

Steve was (and still is) a leash kid.

Cuz he’s definitely gotten lost in IKEA more than once.

The gang just kinda accepts it now, and once they wander around long enough they’ll find Steve passed out in one of the fake bedrooms.

He also doesn’t drink anything unless it’s bright green and radioactive.

He’s like 4% Monster energy.

Water? Don’t know her.

Steve and Dally both follow like Livvy Dunne, Breackie Hill, and Brooke Monk, Lexi Rivera and all them.

Dally starts fights with verified accounts. Argue with the wall.

He has this ongoing feud with the social media manager of Burger King, and he has to make extra email accounts because he keeps getting banned.

He’d play subways surfers irl

Dally also drives like every traffic law is a personal challenge. He doesn’t ever get into accidents though.

Johnny owns the schools gossip account, and it’s the most scandalous, diabolical, astronomical thing ever. And no one expects it to be him cuz he never says anything in class.

Darry replies to anything and everything with: 👍

Ponyboy: the dog died

Darry: 👍

Darry has one of those ancient phones on life support, and won’t turn on unless you press the home button to the Morse code way of saying “Cheeseburger”

He refuses to get a new one though, he just doesn’t see the point because it’s still functional.

Pony hates E-books because he likes to smell the pages.

He still has one though, because Darry yells at him when he reads into the night.

Vape fiend.

Pony’s gasping for breath and dying on the ground because Darry locked his vape in the medicine cabinet.

He has screen time.

It’ll be ass o’clock in the morning, and Pony’s just at the foot of Darry’s bed begging for more time on his phone.

Soda may or may not listen to white girl music.

Pony caught him once before school and Soda just stood there like: 🕺🧍

Soda also texts in emojis

Chronically online, like he knows every meme the second it comes out and quotes them non-stop

[cursedcola]

Discussion: "The Prophecy of Twisted Godhood" <- A reimagining of Twisted Wonderland through Greek Mythology. Where instead of a world based on Disney - Yuu is sent to a school meant to train demigods in another realm. Dormitories: Heartslabyul (here) || Savanaclaw || Octavanille || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Ramshackle (full lore and main plot outline) || Others Notes: Hey everyone - believe it or not, this was the original idea back when I started working on my TWST otome. I went a more traditional route since I wanted more of an immersive product...but I still have all of these ideas, y'know? So why not share them since I won't be making it into a game. Character designs and comics might come if i ever want to add more

Premise: The Prophecy of the Gods’ Reawakening

At NRC on the Isle of Gods, a prestigious institution built upon the ruins of ancient temples, Yuu (the protagonist) is just another student. However, Yuu’s, a supposed ‘godless human’, arrival is no accident—there’s an ancient prophecy surrounding them that foretells the fall of all gods, threatening the balance between the mortal and divine worlds.

The gods, once all-powerful, are losing their grip over their domains. Their children, the demigods, have become restless, each facing the expectations of their divine parentage while undergoing trials at NRC. The mortals are unaware of the ancient forces at play, but Yuu is caught in the center of this storm by ‘chance’ with no power to return to their realm. As they unravel the ties between the demigods, Yuu discovers that their very existence could either restore the gods' reign or bring about their ultimate downfall.

The students of Night Raven College, in this realm known as Nether Realms College, split into seven dormitories, each reflect different aspects of the divine legacy that they inherit. Each dorm conflict mirrors a myth or curse, and Yuu must navigate these volatile relationships and broken alliances, all while uncovering their own mysterious divine heritage.

Heartslabyul - The Realm of Judgment and Destiny

Heartslabyul's - renamed 'Themantica' Dormitory - central conflict revolves around the battle between order and chaos, justice and mercy, hard work and inherited power. The dorm will undergo a transformation as its members grow to understand that their godly traits do not define them, but how they choose to wield those traits in a world on the brink of power usurpation is what truly matters. Yuu becomes the catalyst for reform, teaching them that while their divine parentage shapes them, their choices define who they will become.

Riddle Rosehearts – Child of Themis (Goddess of Justice)

Reasoning: Riddle Rosehearts is deeply connected to Themis, the titaness of divine order, justice, and law. Themis is the embodiment of fairness and law, often depicted with scales, which resonates with Riddle’s strict adherence to rules and his sense of justice, though Riddle also learns that true fairness isn’t always found in rigid systems.

Connection: Themis represents the legalistic and moral code that Riddle so rigidly follows, making her a perfect fit for him. Or rather, a perfect fit for his mother. His buried personal feelings about his role as a demigod are another story.

Conflict: Riddle Rosehearts' devotion to order, justice, and the enforcement of rules mirrors the divine influence of Themis. As the dorm leader, Riddle’s strict enforcement of rules represents his own attempt to uphold the ideal of justice in a chaotic world. However, the prophecy that ties Yuu to the fate of the gods will challenge Riddle’s worldview. As the gods’ powers begin to weaken, Riddle will confront the truth that blind obedience to law can lead to harm, and that compassion and flexibility must sometimes replace absolute fairness.

Tension with Yuu: At first, Riddle views Yuu as a disruptive force to the carefully ordered environment of Heartslabyul. Yuu, being unaware of their own divine parentage, challenges Riddle’s rigidity with their natural tendency to understand situations in shades of gray. Yuu's tendency to question authority and find balance between rules and fairness will force Riddle to confront the flaws in his belief system.

Resolution: Through their relationship, Riddle learns that true justice comes not from strict adherence to law, but from considering the greater good and acting with compassion. Yuu helps him realize that mercy is as important as law.

Trey Clover – Eldest Son of Demeter (Goddess of the Harvest)

Reasoning: Trey Clover, the thoughtful, responsible, and nurturing member of Heartslabyul, fits well with Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, harvest, and the home. Trey is dependable, grounded, and often takes on the caretaker role within his dorm. Much like Demeter’s nurturing presence, Trey ensures others’ needs are met and provides stability. He also has a calm demeanor that makes him approachable and supportive—qualities that resonate with Demeter’s ability to protect and nurture those under her care.

Connection: Both Trey and Demeter represent stability, nurturing, and responsibility, offering support to those around them.

Conflict: Trey Clover embodies the nurturing and stabilizing influence of Demeter, the goddess of the harvest and the home. Trey is the responsible caretaker of the dorm, often stepping into the role of peacemaker and advisor. However, the divine chaos wrought by the prophecy forces him to question how much he can protect others from the encroaching disaster. Demeter’s loss of influence over the harvest in the world will affect Trey’s ability to care for others, and he may feel powerless to prevent the unraveling of the world around him.

Tension with Yuu: Trey is highly protective of Yuu, as they are a triggering force that may push Riddle over the teetering edge, but struggles with a deep sense of helplessness. Yuu is an uninvolved party to the gods’ warfare, and Trey’s connection to Demeter places them in a Persephone-esque position. Yuu’s inevitable involvement in the prophecy raises the question of whether even his powers to nurture can stop what’s coming. Yuu becomes a mirror for Trey to understand that change is inevitable, and that sometimes, allowing things to grow in a different form is necessary for survival.

Resolution: Trey will come to accept that nurturing isn’t always about protecting people from harm, but rather about guiding them through transitions and supporting them as they face their own challenges. Yuu's growth into their role will help Trey understand that not all things are meant to stay the same forever.

Cater Diamond – Son of Eros (God of Love)

Reasoning: Cater Diamond is a fun-loving, social, and self-aware character with a deep connection to social media and capturing the moment. His energetic, attention-grabbing personality aligns well with Eros, the god of love and desire, who often brings people together in unexpected ways. Eros also represents a playful, seductive force, much like Cater’s ability to charm and captivate those around him, while his social media savvy connects to Eros' symbolic role in the pursuit of connection and attraction.

Connection: The playful, charismatic, and communicative nature of both Cater and Eros makes them a fitting pair.

Conflict: Cater Diamond’s connection to Eros, the god of love and desire, makes him a natural at influencing relationships and connecting people. His charming, flirtatious demeanor is a reflection of Eros’ ability to manipulate and inspire love in others. However, the prophecy forces Cater to confront the darker side of love—the obsessive, destructive, and manipulative nature that Eros’ power can also wield. As the gods’ power wanes, Cater begins to question whether his relationships with others are genuine, or if they’re merely the result of his ability to manipulate emotions.

Tension with Yuu: At first, Cater views Yuu as a puzzle to solve, someone who doesn’t seem easily swayed by charm or emotional manipulation. Yuu’s sincerity and ability to build genuine relationships challenge Cater to rethink his approach to love. As the prophecy nears its fulfillment, Yuu will show Cater that love can’t be controlled—it must be earned, nurtured, and given freely.

Resolution: Cater learns to let go of his need for attention and approval, realizing that true love is built on honesty, trust, and vulnerability, not manipulation. Yuu’s example shows him the power of real connection.

Ace Trappola – Son of Hermes (God of Trickery, Travel, and Communication)

Reasoning: Hermes, the god of trickery, travel, and communication, is known for his mischievous and playful personality. Ace, with his witty, rebellious nature and tendency to bend the rules, fits perfectly with Hermes' persona. Ace’s love for teasing others, his knack for getting out of tricky situations, and his ability to charm those around him makes him a natural fit for the god who’s always up to something playful and clever. His impulsive behavior also echoes Hermes’ swift, often unpredictable actions.

Connection: Ace’s wit, humor, and trickster nature align closely with the god of mischief and communication, Hermes.

Conflict: Ace Trappola is the embodiment of Hermes, the god of trickery, communication, and mischief. Ace’s constant need for attention, his love of pranks, and his manipulative nature align with Hermes’ playful and unpredictable qualities. However, as the gods lose their influence over the mortal world, Ace becomes aware that his tricks and quick wit may not be enough to navigate the complexities of the prophecy and the divine conflict. He must confront his own immaturity and selfishness, realizing that his usual tricks can’t solve the problems at hand.

Tension with Yuu: Ace sees Yuu as a challenge—someone who isn’t easily fooled or controlled. Yuu's ability to act with intention and thoughtfulness challenges Ace's impulsive nature. Yuu’s steadiness and willingness to make the hard decisions will force Ace to realize that his cleverness doesn’t always get him what he wants. He must learn that sometimes, real communication is about honesty, not manipulation.

Resolution: Ace will eventually come to appreciate the value of genuine connection and purposeful action. Yuu will help him see that trickery can’t always be the solution—it’s the truth and action that hold power.

Deuce Spade – Youngest Son of Hephaestus (God of Craftsmanship and Fire)

Reasoning: Hephaestus, the god of craftsmanship, fire, and hard work, is known for his dedication and loyalty. Deuce Spade shares many of these traits with his strong sense of duty, determination, and earnestness. Deuce is not a naturally gifted student, but through effort and perseverance, he works hard to overcome his challenges. Much like Hephaestus, who labored tirelessly to create his masterpieces, Deuce is a character defined by his commitment to improvement and his willingness to push through struggles.

Connection: The hardworking, earnest, and somewhat awkward nature of Deuce mirrors Hephaestus' perseverance and determination in the face of adversity.

Conflict: Deuce Spade is a reflection of Hephaestus, the god of craftsmanship, fire, and hard work. Deuce is driven by an earnest desire to prove himself through his effort and dedication. He is a diligent student who values hard work over innate talent. However, the prophecy forces Deuce to question his own worth. The struggle for divine recognition, along with the looming sense that all their hard work might be in vain, challenges Deuce to confront his belief in the value of toil. Can hard work truly protect the world from the prophecy’s wrath, or will they need something more than mere craftsmanship?

Tension with Yuu: Deuce’s strong work ethic and determination to be the best often put him in direct opposition to Yuu, who may not have the same motivations or views on hard work. He sees them as a possible connection to better understand human-kind and learn socially acceptable mannerisms. Yet their nonchalant outlook on the school’s way of teaching demigods has him question the ‘right path’ – which Deuce finally thought he found.  Yuu might remind him that effort alone is not always enough to overcome challenges—sometimes, one must rely on intuition, teamwork, or emotional resilience to succeed.

Resolution: Deuce learns that true strength doesn’t just come from hard work, but from the ability to adapt, trust others, and remain flexible. Yuu teaches him that it’s okay to rely on others and embrace different strategies to solve problems. That there is a balance between good and bad – perfection and rebellion.

[fandomfablesunleashed]

Brewed Awakenings

Law x reader (she/her)

Modern AU, Coffeshop AU, pure fluff

Summary: When Lami dragged him out for coffee, he never expected to find himself returning so often — nor was he prepared for the teasing from his close ones or how his heart would behave whenever he was near the coffee shop’s owner.

Words: 6.4k

Notes: It was requested:

I was wondering if I could request a modern trafalgar law x coffee shop owner. She's also friends with lami and laws friends...

@chillerkiller it’s finally here! Thank you for the request. I had so much fun with it.

I knew from the very beginning it was going to be a longer one, but I didn’t expect it to be that long. I also have so many more ideas for it that I’ll definitely return to in the future — like the reader attending some kind of dinner at Law’s parents’ place, or Lami talking Law up to her (maybe even from Lami’s POV?).

English is not my first language

Masterlist

Lami was rambling again, her words tumbling out in an endless stream, fast and a little too loud for the quiet morning, as she walked ahead. Law followed a few steps behind, hands in his pockets, only catching every third word. He didn’t mind. He’d spent so many years dealing with her over-the-top enthusiasm, it barely registered anymore.

Suddenly, she stopped.

“Let’s go to this café! My friend owns it. It’s such a vibe,” she said, spinning around to face him. “Like, plants everywhere, cool furniture, and their lattes are unbelievable!”

Law gave her a look, one brow raised in practiced skepticism. “I'm not paying for overpriced coffee.”

Lami rolled her eyes with a dramatic groan. “Stop being such a grump! Just trust me for once, okay?” With her smile as vibrant as her spirit, she grabbed his arm with both hands and gave it a playful shake. 

It was truly a wonder how they were so different.

He sighed resigned, already envisioning his wallet weeping.“Fine, fine.” he muttered, dragging his feet toward the café door. “But this better be good.”

She let out a delighted squeal, pulling him forward with boundless energy. The café was tucked between a bookstore and a florist. A string of warm fairy lights decorated the awning, and the scent of fresh pastries drifted out every time the door opened. It definitely seemed like a place Lami would like.

Law stepped inside, and despite himself, felt his defenses loosen. It was annoyingly nice.  Plush chairs and fluffy cushions invited visitors to settle in and stay a while, and the scent of coffee beans provided a pleasant atmosphere. Everything felt thoughtfully put together, from the crocheted throws laid over the armrests to the potted plants on the windowsills.

Lami was already at the counter babbling away with the barista. Her hands moved as rapidly as her mouth, gesturing wildly, probably recounting some overblown version of how she ended up here. 

Law sighed and made his way over.

“—yeah, so I dragged him here…” she was saying. Her whole face lit up like a switch had been flipped, and she turned slightly towards him. “ Oh, here he is. This is my brother Law.” 

He gave a small nod, just enough to be polite, and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Hi!” You introduced yourself with a bright smile. Too bright for his liking, but it did have a pleasant warmth to it. 

Warmth? 

Maybe he did need a coffee. 

“So,” you said, leaning casually against the counter as you tapped at the screen, “What can I get for you two?”

Lami answered smoothly. “I'll have the caramel latte. Oat milk. Extra foam. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” You grinned, matching her ease with a teasing wink as your fingers moved across the screen. Then you glanced up at Law. “And you?”

Law looked at the menu like it was written in ancient code.  Seriously, who needs a dozen different names for coffee?

“Uh… just a regular coffee. Black.”

You gasped, clutching your chest dramatically. “Daring choice.”

Lami stifled a laugh, elbowing him. “Come on, be a little adventurous. They make this cold brew, you will like it.” 

He opened his mouth, ready with a flat-out no, already picturing whatever overly complicated nonsense she wanted him to order. But before he could get the words out, you stepped in.

“Would you entertain the cardamom version of it?” you asked, tone light, but with a challenge tucked neatly behind your words. 

Mischief played at the corners of your mouth, like you were enjoying this just a little more than you should. He should’ve been annoyed. Usually, he would’ve been. But instead, he found himself holding your gaze for a second too long.

What the hell was wrong with him? Since when did teasing from strangers feel anything but irritating? Why was he even entertaining this?

“Fine. Cardamom cold brew. Surprise me.”

“Dangerous words, but okay,” you said, turning to start on the drinks.

Law found his gaze lingering the effortless rhythm of your movements. He couldn't help but admire how quick and confident your hands were, how your smile stayed on even when you weren't facing them. How you—

He caught himself, snapping his eyes away, cheeks heating with a sudden, self-directed annoyance.

“You're staring,” Lami whispered under her breath, her tone smug enough to make him grit his teeth.

“No, I’m not,” he muttered.

She just smirked. “Oh, you so are.”

They found a table near the window—Lami instantly claiming the seat she wanted. Law sat across from her, arms crossed, trying to act like he wasn’t thinking too hard about the barista.

The moments passed in a comfortable blur of café noise and the occasional clink of ceramic. Law watched the steam twist from someone’s mug at the next table, doing his best to ignore Lami’s sly glances.

Then, footsteps.

“Fancy foam cloud for my lovely friend.” you announced, setting the glass down in front of Lami with a practiced flourish. “And cardamom cold brew for you.” The amber liquid caught the light, the ice clinking softly, and it looked surprisingly inviting.

“Thank you,” Lami said with an exaggerated curtsy from her chair. “We are but humble peasants before your amazing coffee skills.”

You grinned, but your eyes settled on Law. “Let me know what you think.”

Law lifted the glass, hesitating just a moment before taking a cautious sip. His eyes blinked in surprise, the unexpected flavor blooming on his tongue. “Huh. That's… actually good.”

“I told you!” Lami nearly shouted, her grin wide as usual. “He's usually allergic to anything vaguely enjoyable.”

“Well,” you said with a sly smile, “miracles happen. Maybe next time you’ll even try matcha.”

Law gave a dry chuckle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

But his eyes met yours, just for a little while. That moment stretched just long enough for Lami to clear her throat—loud, drawn-out, and utterly impossible to ignore.

“Anyway,” she said, flashing a smirk that said she was both amused and smug,“I’m just gonna scroll my phone completely silently and not third-wheel whatever’s happening here.”

You straightened, breaking the eye contact. “Way to make things awkward,” you laughed it off quickly.  “I’ll let you enjoy your drinks. But if you want a refill, I’ll be right over there.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Law watching your retreating figure until he caught himself and looked away, ears warming slightly.

Lami just sipped her latte like she’d won a bet.

He needed coffee—desperately. And he knew your café wasn’t overpriced, which made it the obvious choice. It made perfect sense, really, to stop by that little corner spot his sister had dragged him to not long ago.

But you weren’t behind the counter this time.

The realization hit him with a faint, inexplicable pang. Disappointment? That was stupid. He was just here for caffeine.  Still, he couldn’t help scanning the place one more time, just to be certain you weren’t hiding in the back or stepping out from the kitchen.

He shook it off. It was better this way, anyway. If you’d seen him, you might’ve mentioned it to Lami, and she’d never let him hear the end of it. 

And he was here just for a coffee. Nothing else.

As he stepped up to the counter, ready to place his order, the barista behind the register glanced over his shoulder as someone tapped it.

“I’ve got it. Go take the order to table five,” you said, casually slipping in behind the counter with ease, as you took the other barista’s place.

“Hi there.” You smiled, warm and a little amused. “Law, right?”

He blinked, suddenly all too aware of the way his heart had decided to pick up the pace. He was here for coffee. Just coffee. And yet, here you were, standing in front of him, smile soft, eyes bright, and suddenly the café felt a little warmer than it had a minute ago.

“… Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “That’s me.”

“What can I get you?”

“Coffee. Black.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Still adventurous, I see.”

“This time I won’t be talked into anything else.”

“I thought you said the cardamom cold brew was good,” you countered, folding your arms as if genuinely curious. Were you teasing him again? Or was that real disappointed?

“It was,” he said quickly, a little too quickly, the words rushing out in his effort to sound convincing. He coughed, adjusted his posture, and continued in a more composed voice, “It was good. I just need a normal coffee today.”

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing playfully. “Ah, and everything other than an espresso isn’t normal?”

He exhaled, lips twitching at the corners. “Something like that.”

“Anything else?” you asked, your fingers already hovering near the register keys.

“No,” he said, almost too firmly. Then, catching himself, he added more gently, “That’s it.”

“All right,” you said, already turning to grab a cup. “Here or to go?”

He hesitated.

To go. That had been the plan. Grab the coffee, nod politely, walk out. 

“Here.” 

Your smile widened. Were you pleased by that? “Sure. Go grab a seat. I’ll bring your coffee over in a minute.”

There was a perfect empty spot by the window—sunlit, quiet, with just enough distance from the others. Another was tucked into the back, half-hidden, ideal for solitude.

But he didn’t pick either of those.

Instead, he chose the table closest to the bar. From there, he’d have an unobstructed view of the counter. He told himself it was convenient. Close to order something else if needed. Easy to leave when he was done.

But convenience didn’t explain the way his eyes kept drifting to where you worked, moving with effortless proficiency between the coffee machine and register, chatting with customers like you knew every name and every order. He wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

A few minutes later, you approached with his drink.

“Here you go,” you said, setting the mug down. “One very normal, very unadventurous black coffee.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Perfect.”

“Enjoy.” You started to leave, already pivoting back toward the counter.

“Wait.”

The word left his mouth before he could think better of it. His hand half-raised, as if he might reach out but stopped himself.

You paused, turning to look at him again, brows lifting slightly.

Why had he stopped you?

You were working—busy. Moving through a dozen things at once, and he’d just added one more. 

“Something wrong with the order?”

“No. No… umm…” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyper-aware of how ridiculous he must sound. “I actually might want to eat something,” he managed. “I can go to the register to order that.”

You waved a hand, already slipping back into that calm, easy tone. “No, it’s cool. Want something sweet, or...?”

He hesitated, caught off guard by the question. What did he want?

 “How about a croissant? Or maybe a muffin? I think you’d like that one.”

There was something so casual and certain in your voice. Like you’d already figured him out.  It made him wonder—had Lami spoken to you about him? What did she say?

He nodded slowly. “Both. I’d like both.”

Your smile warmed even more. “Sure thing.”

When you returned a few minutes later with the plate, he mumbled a quiet thank you, eyes darting down like he hadn’t just been watching the counter the whole time. You placed the food in front of him with that same radiant smile, like you knew him better than you had any right to.

And damn it, you were right. The muffin was perfect.

He took another bite and stared straight ahead, pretending he didn’t glance back at you every time you passed by. Pretending he didn’t like the sound of your laugh when you talked to another customer. Pretending he didn’t already know he’d be back tomorrow.

And the day after that.

Just for the coffee. Of course. 

Law had developed a very elaborate lie. One that he repeated to himself so often it almost sounded true: the café just happens to be on his way.

Never mind that it wasn’t. At all. In fact, it was at least a fifteen-minute detour from anywhere he usually went. But somehow, he found himself passing by more and more. Sometimes he went in for a coffee. Sometimes he didn’t. He’d walk by just to check if the lights were on. Just to see if you were there. 

Not that he cared. Obviously.

That evening, the café was quiet. Just Law, clicking on his laptop, his coffee long finished. The soft playlist had long since turned to slower, moodier songs. You were behind the counter, wiping things down, the sleeves of your sweater pushed up in that careless way that was starting to feel too familiar.

You glanced up, then over at the wall clock.

“We’re closing soon.”

Law blinked, snapped out of whatever daze he was in. “Oh. Right. Sorry—I’ll get going.” He pushed his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor as he stood, a little too fast.

“No.”

He paused mid-rise. “No?”

You hesitated for half a second, then shrugged, as casually as possible. “I mean… you can stay. While I close up. I don’t usually offer that, but… you’re a friend. So.”

Friend.

That word landed in his chest a little heavier than it should’ve. Friend. Was that what this was? 

He sat back down slowly, giving you a careful look, but you were already turning back to the espresso machine.

A moment later, he caught the sound of footsteps approaching. When he looked up, you were already there, a ceramic mug nestled between your hands. You set it in front of him without a word.

Law frowned, confused. “I didn’t order anything.”

You just gave him a half-smile, calm and a little playful. Like you’d been expecting the protest. “I know. It’s on the house.”

“What? No. I didn’t pay for that.”

“And I’m telling you it’s fine.” You nudged the mug an inch closer with your fingertips. “You’ve tipped enough times to fund half my rent.”

He stared at the drink again, then back up at you, unsure what to say.  You weren't being pushy. Just kind. Maybe too kind. And he didn’t know what to do with that.

“…Thanks,” he murmured, picking up the mug.

You smiled and turned back toward the counter, humming quietly as you started closing up for the night. You didn’t see him watching. Or likely you did and just let him.

So Law sat there, sipping something he didn’t order, in a place he pretended didn’t mean anything—watching you move through the dim-lit café that felt so unmistakably yours.

“I'm telling you. He is so into her!” he heard Lami overexcited voice in the kitchen.  Law froze just outside the doorway, one hand still resting on the wall. He could already feel the warmth rising in his face.

Great. Of course, she had to tell them.

He stepped into the room, jaw already tightening. 

Lami was perched on a chair, mid-rant, waving a fork around like crazy. Across from her, Shachi nearly choked on his drink, trying to suppress a laugh. Bepo tilted his head, listening closely, while Penguin had his arms crossed and an I-knew-it smirk that made Law want to turn right back around.

Lami didn’t even slow down as Law walked in.

“I mean, come on,” she said, gesturing like the evidence was undeniable. “He watches her like she’s the only person in the room. And he is there like all the freaking time. It’s adorable. Painfully awkward, probably weird, but adorable. So into her.”

“I am not!” Law called out from across the kitchen, sharper than he meant it to be.

Lami didn’t even flinch. “You so are!” she sang back, grinning like she’d already won the argument.

“I’m not,” he repeated, more firmly this time

Shachi leaned casually against the counter, “The way you keep on disagreeing makes it less unbelievable.” 

Penguin chuckled beside him. “It’s like textbook denial.”

He just scoffed. Great. Why is everyone suddenly an expert on his personal life?

Before he could shut it down, Bepo piped up from across the room. “I would like to meet her.”

Law turned slowly, fixing him with a flat stare. “Absolutely not.”

Penguin chimed in immediately, grinning like a cat who'd just cornered a canary. “You said you’re not into her, so why can’t we meet Lami’s friend?” His brows rose in mock innocence. “Unless, of course, you're lying.”

Law’s hand tightened around the edge of the counter. He was half a second from snapping—really snapping. To tell all of them off. 

But then—

“Ohh who is our Law interested in?” 

Perfect. Because if there was one thing he needed right now, it was more people getting involved.  Especially his mother.

She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes twinkling with way too much amusement. She was already smiling, like she’d heard enough to draw her own conclusions.

“No one.” He answered quickly. But it didn’t matter—because it was already too late. The spark had caught, and now the wildfire was spreading.

Lami, naturally, didn’t let it drop. Her grin was positively diabolical. “Remember my friend who owns a cafe? That's her.” 

His expression stayed blank, but internally, he was already drafting several increasingly creative revenge plans. His little sister had to be some kind of devil reincarnated. There was no other explanation.

“Oh, she is really nice and pretty” his mum cooed. “You know, she’d make a wonderful daughter-in-law.”

His friends immediately erupted into whistles and applause, Lami was grinning like crazy.

And that conversation was moving way too far.

Then his dad walked into the room, eyeing the lively crowd with raised brows. “Did I hear right?” he asked. “Is Law finally really interested in someone?”

“Yes!” his mother said, her voice bright with excitement, as if she’d been waiting years for this exact question. “We met her once, remember? That sweet girl who owns the café Lami likes? Such a lovely girl—”

Law rubbed his temple. “Mum, please.”

“She gave me an extra cookie. Can you imagine? So thoughtful. And she laughed at your father’s awful pun, honestly—”

“I thought it was a good pun,” his dad muttered.

Lami looked like she might explode with delight. Shachi, Penguin and Bepo had stopped even pretending to be subtle, practically howling with laughter at the counter.

Law, meanwhile, was reevaluating every decision that had led him to this exact moment.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled, more to the universe than anyone else.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” his mum said with a warm smile, stepping forward to smooth his hair like he was ten again. “We’re just happy for you. You’re always so serious. It’s nice to see a little light in your eyes.”

Law groaned. He really needed a way out of this conversation.

He opened his mouth to shut it down, to reclaim control, but—

“She could even help you relax a little,” his dad added thoughtfully, as if this were a perfectly rational thing to say. “You’ve always been so… tense.”

Law turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “I am relaxed.”

“You’re literally clenching your jaw right now,” Bepo said helpfully.

Law pinched the bridge of his nose.

 This cannot be happening.

He tried—really tried—to tune it all out: the excited chatter, the exaggerated retellings of his imagined love life, the growing plans for weddings, grandchildren, and god-knows-what-else. 

One voice still managed to cut through.

“Sure, I will bring you guys there,” Lami said brightly, and Law’s stomach dropped. 

His head snapped up.  “Absolutely not.”

And of course, they didn't listen to him.

Penguin let out a cheer. “Yes! I’ve been wanting to try that fancy cinnamon thing you keep raving about.”

Shachi was already pulling out his phone. “What time should we meet?”

Law stared at them, somewhere between horror and disbelief. “I said no.”

“Relax.” Lami grinned devilishly.

“It’s not a zoo exhibit. She’s not—this isn’t—just no.”

But again—no one was listening.

You befriended them way too quickly. So quickly, in fact, that Law couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment it happened. One day, Lami casually introduced you and next he was sitting awkwardly in the corner while you blabbed about something with his friends.

It wasn't a busy day, so you were able to speak with them freely. You were leaned over Bepo, animatedly recounting some ridiculous story that had Penguin wheezing with laughter and Shachi nearly falling out of his seat.

He wished he would see you like this with just him.

Damn.

Where the hell had that thought come from?

“You have to show me it one day.” you said, turning his attention to him. 

Wait, what?

He hadn’t heard the first part of the conversation—too busy drowning in the dangerous swirl of his own thoughts. You must’ve noticed the confusion on his face because instead of rolling your eyes or calling him out for zoning out, you just smiled.

“Your coins,” you clarified, tilting your head slightly, that curious sparkle still in your eyes. “Bepo mentioned you collect them.”

Shachi had the nerve to wiggle his eyebrows. Penguin threw him a thumbs-up. Bepo tried—and failed—to look innocent.

He ought to kill them. Slowly.

“It's not that interesting” he brushed it off.

But you didn’t let it go. You leaned in, your expression entirely sincere, completely unaffected by his gruff dismissal.

“I disagree,” you said, like it was fact. Like it mattered. “I mean, you let me talk your ear off about different tea brewing techniques for nearly an hour. The least I can do is learn about something you care about.”

You said like it was obvious. Completely normal thing to do.

Why then his heart react this way?

Damn it.

If it wasn’t already too much that you had somehow befriended his friends, and somehow met his parents already—then this was a line he hadn’t prepared for.

The familiar aroma of cinnamon and roasted coffee beans enveloped him as he entered the café, the bell above the door ringing softly behind him. Third time this week. Pathetic. But the place was quiet, your coffee was good, and you were—well, he hadn't worked that part out yet. 

And then he saw them.

There, comfortably seated near the counter, sipping drinks were Lami and Corazon.

He could maybe turn around. The door was still swinging gently behind him. If he was fast—

“Law!” Lami—his demon of a sister—called, voice sugar-sweet, all faux-innocence. “Fancy seeing you here!”

She knew. Of course, she knew. She always knew his schedule, she must’ve orchestrated this whole thing like a smug little devil. Law gave her a stern glare. She beamed back, all sunshine and trouble. She had absolutely done this on purpose.

Corazon waved awkwardly, his sleeve knocking over the napkin dispenser.

His pulse jumped as he caught sight of you behind the counter, smiling warmly at him. “Hi. Nice to see you again.”

He nodded, and made his way toward the table. “I was in the area.” he muttered, avoiding direct eye contact with you more than anyone. As if he could play off the fact that this was the third time this week he’d conveniently been in the area.

“He planned his route to come here. Don’t let him lie to you.” Lami said to Corazon, but with how loud she was talking she must have wanted you to hear too.

He turned his head slowly, glaring daggers at her from across the table. “Lami.”

But the little gremlin only grinned.

You brought over the coffee before he even managed to order something. “House blend,” you said cheerfully. “Made it fresh. Thought you might like to try something different this time.”

“Thanks,” Law said, a little too quickly. He cleared his throat after, pretending to focus intensely on the mug you just placed in front of him.

“Oh! Are you the one who makes those little muffins he likes so much?” Corazon asked, perking up suddenly. “I tried to take one, and I nearly lost a hand.” 

Law choked on his coffee. “I do not—” he began, voice sharp with protest, but Lami was already talking over him.

“Oh yes, he is really possessive of them. One time I reached for the last one, and he gave me this look like I’d committed treason.”

“They’re good,” he snapped, the tips of his ears visibly turning pink as he reached for his cup.

You were laughing now. That, delighted sound that always managed to do something strange to his insides—like his ribs forgot they were supposed to protect his heart. “I’ll have to remember that. Maybe sneak extra ones into your order next time.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, avoiding your gaze. “I mean, it’s not necessary.”

Corazon, oblivious or pretending to be, leaned toward you. “He gets all flustered when people do nice things for him. It’s adorable.”

Law looked up, horrified. “Cora—”

“Truly heartwarming,” Lami added, clasping her hands to her chest 

He could feel the heat in his face now.

“Well, I think it’s endearing. Now, I should get back to the counter. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Law nodded stiffly, barely trusting himself to speak. Did he hear you right? Did you just call him endearing? He couldn’t stop the quiet, traitorous tug at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re smiling,” Lami said, eyes narrowing like she’d spotted a rare, endangered species. “I saw that.”

“I’m not,” Law lied, already glaring in her direction.

“Oh, it’s happening,” she whispered to Corazon, stage-muttering. “He’s softening.”

He barely registered the rest of their conversation. Even after they left the café. They were definitely teasing him. Of course they were. If it had been any other day, he would’ve scowled at them, told them to shut up, threatened Lami with extra chores or Corazon with silent treatment. But now?

He didn’t care. 

All he could think about was the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

And how warm the muffins were when pressed the small paper bag into his hand, as you were saying goodbye to them.

Now, sitting alone in his apartment, he glanced down at the small paper bag now on his desk. It was neatly folded. Ordinary. Plain. Except it wasn’t. Because scrawled across the front in your handwriting was a simple word and a small drawing.

“Enjoy ♡”

That little drawn heart next to it, so innocent yet so lethal.

The café was busier than usual. Law sat in his chosen spot near the bar, trying to focus on something that resembled work while sipping another “on-the-house” drink he definitely tried to pay for and lost that battle again. He was going to have to tip again. To repay you for all those muffins you’d slipped him lately, one after another. He’d found out from Bepo, in an offhand comment, that you baked them yourself. That they weren’t even part of the regular menu—seasonal, you’d called them. A limited treat.

But you kept making them anyway. For him. He was almost sure of it now.

Lami slid into the seat across from him without warning, setting down her own aggressively extravagant drink with extra foam art.

“You’ve got it bad,” she said, before even saying hello.

Law didn’t look up. He kept typing on his laptop.  His fingers moved steadily over the laptop keys. Maybe if he just stayed focused, Lami would take the hint and drop it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He just kept typing, scrolling through a file he wasn’t actually reading, praying she’d get bored.

She didn’t.

Because she was his sister. And if there was one thing Lami never did, it was let something go.

“You’ve been here four times this week. You used to call cafés a scam, remember?” 

“I like the quiet. Good place to work.”

“Liar.” She took a long sip of her drink, eyeing him over the rim. Then, casually—“Just ask her out already.”

“What? No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not interested.”

Lami raised both eyebrows slowly, full of mock offense. “Wow. That was the least convincing lie I’ve ever heard, and I once watched you fake being sick for two days to avoid a family gathering”

He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“You’re totally doing this with me. Because clearly you’re too much of a disaster to do it yourself.” She leaned in, smiling way too gleefully. “Do you want me to ask her if she likes you?”

Law shot her a deadly look. “What are we, five?”

“Well, if the shoe fits.” Lami wiggled her eyebrows. “Seriously, I will. I’ll walk up there and be like, ‘Hey, my emotionally constipated brother wants to know if you think he’s cute—’”

“Lami.”

“—he’s got a weird thing for your muffins and pretends he doesn’t know your schedule, but he totally does—”

Law groaned and dropped his head into his hands, fingers digging into his hair as if he could physically shut out her voice. His sister had to have been created for the sole purpose of tormenting him. No other explanation made sense.

“You know what? I’ll do it.” For a terrifying moment, she looked completely capable of marching straight over to the counter and saying something she should not to you.

Law grabbed her wrist, looking up at her with barely restrained panic. “Lami. Sit down.”

She grinned, victorious. “So you are interested.” she cooed, smug as hell.

He let go of her with a sigh, leaning back in his chair, defeated. “You are the worst.”

Lami just sat down again, looking very pleased with herself. Law tried to return to his laptop, but the words on the screen blurred. He glanced toward the counter again, just briefly. And there you were. Looking his way with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips, like maybe you’d caught a piece of that little scene.

H was so screwed.

So,” Shachi drawled, leaning his elbows on the table with a smirk that already spelled trouble, “have you asked your dream girl out finally?”

Law didn’t even get the chance to react.

“Nope,” Lami cut in instantly, grinning like she’d been waiting for that question. “He’s too chicken to do that.”

“I’m not,” Law snapped.

“Oh, Law, darling,” His mum appeared in a room carrying more trays filled with food. “How long are you planning to wait? Until she’s married with three kids?”

Shachi and Penguin burst out laughing, and Law scowled into his drink, silently weighing the pros and cons of walking out mid-dinner.

“Yes son” Then, to make things worse, his father decided to join in after he set his signature dinner meal in the middle of the table. “If you want a girl, you’ve got to make a move. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.” he reached over to drop a casual kiss on his wife’s cheek. 

“Ewwww,” Lami groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Are you gonna be this gross with your lady too?” she asked, tossing a pea his way.

It bounced off Law’s shoulder and landed on the table.

He shot her a flat look. “Don’t throw food.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” she sing-songed.

“I’m not going to be gross,” he muttered, stabbing his fork into a piece of meat. “I’m a normal person.”

“Oh, sure,” Shachi chimed in, nudging Penguin beside him. “Real normal. Especially the going to the café a few times a week to ogle the cute barista.”

Penguin snorted. “It’s a miracle she doesn’t call the cops on him.”

“Instead, he gets specially made muffins.” Even Bepo is against him. 

Law froze for half a second, then resumed eating like nothing had happened. “He sells them anyway.”

“They’re not even on the menu anymore!” Lami shoutedn putting her fork down on a plate with more force than necessary. “She just keeps making them for you, and you’re still here acting like you’re not head over heels!”

“I’m not—” he started, but his father raised a brow.

“Son.”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“If your mother had made me custom muffins back in the day, I’d have proposed on the spot.”

Any minute now. Just stand up, walk out, go to your place, and pretend none of this ever happened.

But before he could move, Corazon clutched his chest with exaggerated drama. “Ah, love is such a beautiful feeling. Truly! You must do something about experiencing that, Law.”

“You definitely should,” Penguin piped in, grinning way too wide.

“Mmmmhmmm,” Shachi added, mouth full of food, giving a solemn, approving nod.

Law gritted his teeth. “Are any of you even in relationships?” he snapped, tone sharp.

That did the trick—for a second.

Shachi suddenly found his rice very fascinating. Penguin stared into his cup, Bepo stuffed his face. Even Corazon scratched the back of his head sheepishly and took a long sip of wine.

Finally, a moment of silence.

But, of course, it didn’t last.

His mother leaned forward, ever-gentle but entirely merciless. “Do you want us to help you out, sweetheart?”

“What?! No!” Law practically jumped in his seat, flushing with horror. “I’m a grown man. I can ask a girl I like out!”

The moment the words left his mouth, the table fell into the silence he had long wished for. But this quiet wasn’t a good one.

“OOOOOH!!” Corazon gasped, hands flying to his cheeks.

Law realized, with dawning horror, what he had just admitted aloud. “I didn’t mean— That’s not—” he began, but it was no use.

“Someone finally admitting he likes her!” Corazon declared, eyes shining.

More cheering. More clapping. Someone whistled. It might have been Lami.

Law buried his face in his hands. He was never going to hear the end of this.

And now he was officially screwed.

Because how the hell was he supposed to ever invite you to this circus? But most importantly—how the hell was he even going to ask you out?

That question lingered later, long after dinner, long after the teasing had finally died down, and he was alone again. He stared at the small paper bag sitting beside his laptop. The “Enjoy ♡” still visible on the front.

The café had just closed. Chairs were flipped onto tables, the lights dimmed, and everything was nearly prepared for closing. Law was leaning against the counter, fingers drumming against it as he watched you wipe down the espresso machine with diligent.

He'd stayed late again. Surprise.

You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow with that half-smile that always made his brain short-circuit. “You gonna keep loitering or finally get a job here?”

Law cleared his throat, straightening like he was preparing to deliver a research paper. “I… actually wanted to ask you something.”

That got your attention. You turned toward him fully, curious. “Okay?”

His mouth opened. Nothing came out. He blinked, looked away for a second, then back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

And yet, he didn't say anything again.

“Are you gonna ask that question, or should I learn how to mind read?” 

And there it was. That smile. That smile that captured his attention every single time. And that smile was what prompted him to finally dare to ask.

“Would you—maybe—want to… go out sometime?”

“Out?”

“Not like�� outside. I mean like a… a date.” He was already regretting every word. “With me. Obviously.” He paused, then added awkwardly, “…Unless there’s another guy hiding behind me who also drinks too much coffee and forgets how to be normal around you.”

There was a pause. Your smile spread and your eyes twinkle with warmth that somehow slipped into his very own bones. “You’re cute when you panic.”

He groaned, pressing his hand to his face. “I’m leaving. Forget I said anything.”

But before he could move, you moved from beside the counter and stepped close—close enough that he froze. Your hand brushed his wrist.

“Hey.”

He looked at you. You were still smiling. Not like that practiced smile you gave your clients, but the one just for him. A little nervous, maybe, but utterly breathtaking.

And before he could say anything. Before he could panic or overthink, you leaned in and kissed him.

His eyes fluttered shut without meaning to, lips parting slightly under the touch of yours. It wasn’t long. But soft and warm in a way that made his heart stutter.

When you pulled back, you grinned. How is it even possible for you to look even more beautiful? You were brightness and calm, mischief and magic, all at once, and he was undone by the way you simply existed, more breathtaking than a dream he hadn’t dared to have.

“You taste like coffee.”

Law blinked, stunned. He hadn't expected that. Of all the things you could have said, it was that.“Well… I drank way more than healthy.” A pause. His voice softened, almost against his will. “So I could see you.”

There. Said aloud, it felt foolish. He never felt so exposed before.

You laughed quietly, a disarming sound that curled into his chest and stayed there. “That’s either the sweetest or weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.”

A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It surprised him, how natural it felt. “It’s both.” 

And it was. He knew it. Sweet, because it was you. Weird, because it was him. Because he didn’t down cups of coffee he didn’t need, sip teas he barely recognized, or eat an absurd number of muffins under the flimsy excuse of hunger. He didn’t invent reasons to stay. But lately, he was doing all of that just to remain close to you.

You looped your fingers loosely through his. “Pick me up Friday. And try not to over-caffeinate too much. I do sell non-caffeinated options, you know.”

Law huffed, that might’ve been a laugh if he weren’t still so completely overwhelmed. Your hand was in his. Your lips had just been on his.

“Yeah,” he said, and then again, firmer. “Okay. Friday.”

He was going to have to thank Lami.

…Eventually.

[carnalcrows]

this is inspired by @suiana 's yandere!enderman fic lol. [link]

yandere herobrine x gn!reader

You should’ve known the second the torches started randomly popping off the walls.

You didn’t want to believe it at first. Maybe it was a glitch. Maybe the cave was buggy. Maybe — and you clung to this hope like a man on a sinking ship — it was the wind. (You were underground. There was no wind.)

But deep down, you knew. Something was watching you.

You spun around, heart hammering, and there he was — Herobrine.

Standing at the edge of your torchlight. Staring.

Not blinking. Not breathing. Just standing there like a discount horror movie villain.

You yelped. Like, actually yelped. A real, embarrassing little noise. And immediately started backpedaling.

He didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

Just watched.

You tried pretending you didn’t see him. Mined a little block. Hummed a weird, panicky little tune to yourself. Looked anywhere but at him.

You swore you could feel him grinning.

And then he started following you.

Slowly. Casually. Like he had all the time in the world to make your life miserable. You tried speed-mining. Building little cobblestone walls between you and him. Every time you peeked back, there he was — closer.

At one point, you turned around, fully ready to yell at him — and he was already right behind you.

"Can you not," you snapped.

He tilted his head, like a confused dog. Like you were the weird one here.

You pointed a pickaxe at him. "I’m serious. Personal space. Human rights. Basic decency."

Nothing. Just blank glowing eyes and this faint vibe like he thought you were being hilarious.

"I know you can hear me," you grumbled.

He finally spoke, voice low and gravelly like a landslide in slow motion:

"I hear everything you do."

You decided not to unpack that.

At some point, you got sick of it. You sprinted for the surface, desperate for sunlight, civilization, maybe a therapist.

You hit a river — freedom! Water! The one thing no ghost-coded entity could cross!

You dove into the river like it was the Olympics.

You bobbed to the surface, gasping — triumphant — victorious —

—until you felt the water ripple next to you.

You turned. He was there. Swimming. Swimming.

Herobrine, the ancient cursed glitch himself, doggy paddling toward you with his empty, glowy eyes and a casualness that should’ve been illegal.

You flailed backward.

"HOW are you even in here?!"

He shrugged, almost sheepishly.

"You looked lonely."

"You’re not supposed to like water!"

"Yeah," he said, smiling way too much for someone breaking the laws of Minecraft. "And yet. Here I am."

You floated there, chest heaving, glaring at him.

"You're a menace."

"You’re cute when you're mad," he said, dead serious.

You decided then and there that if you survived this, you were deleting Minecraft and taking up knitting.

[lightningwaters]

[blood-smiles]

𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑-𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 - TW MDNI . yandere content . yanderes . creepy thoughts from both yanderes . post-apocalypse AU .

╰┈➤ Long ago, it was said that humanity thrived together as a whole in peace and harmony, they all went to the same places and had similar experiences, they shared and traded food and items, the peace was always kept because of laws, the air was pure and the water was clear and tasteless, complete perfection.

But where was that now? It’s the year 2313, it’s been a long time since that chapter was ripped from the ancient book of humanity,

You wrapped a mask around your head, clicking your tongue as your fingers fiddled with the leather buckles of the mask,

After a struggling with the mask for a few seconds you finally succeeded in fastening the item to the back of your cranium,

The thick belt wrapped around your head and behind your ears, the borders of the leather digging into your skin and leaving an aching red imprint on your head,

You steadily got up from your couch, walking over to the deserted shopping cart in the corner, putting your hands around the cart’s bars and lifting it up from the floor, putting it back on its wheels as it used to be,

You rolled the cart around your laboratory, listening for squeaks or strange sounds, when you made sure there wasn’t any problems with the cart you put it aside momentarily,

You ran over to one of your counters as snatched a pair of goggles from the metal surface,

Securing them on your eyes as best you could, your hands grabbed the flimsy fabric of your coat and pulled up the hood, you were all geared up and ready to go.

Your hands gripped the bar of your shopping cart, your eyes scanning the inside of the empty shopping cart, the once silver metal was oxidizing, slowly turning into a murky brown tint,

you pushed your cart through your run down town, waving at acquaintances and kicking little pebbles out of your way,

This is how your everyday life went, around 5 p.m you would get geared up and go into the junk yard to look for unwanted “trash” from Ether,

most of the time what you found wasn’t even trash, maybe a little worn down, but these people were throwing away full shampoo bottles and moisturizers! You wish you had that problem..

Ether was the island above the slums or better know as “the pit”, Ether was known as the place only peasants like you could wish they could end up there, which wasn’t ever going to happen,

Only the richest of the rich or elite are allowed up there, and the people down in the pit were uneducated and poor, having nothing more than a button and a few pieces of clothes to their name,

Truly pitiful, and you were no different, the only thing you had was a run down laboratory your father left behind,

He was supposedly a smart man, one of the first developers of the species known as “Androids” yet none of his work was given credit towards him, which ended him up here, in the pit.

You knew how to repair an android, but coding one was beyond your abilities, you worked as a handyman for a few silver coins, that’s how you went on about life,

You developed your skills as you went, and apparently the only note worthy trait you had was your ability to salvage broken things,

You kicked away some trash with your muddy boots, the rubbish flying far away and into the piles of trash,

“Fuckin’ trash..” you complained under your breath, your heavy duty boots clinging to the sticky mud underneath, making unpleasant squelches in the mud,

The sound of clanking was heard when the piece of trash hit a surface, your ears immediately pricked up,

Whipping your head into the direction of where the trash fell, you immediately let go of your cart and jogged over to a pile of crap,

You stepped onto the unsteady heap of trash, your knee beginning to buckle under your own weight, warning you that you were about to loose your footing,

You fell forward, wind brushing by your ears as you began your descension , sticking your arms out, you braced for the impact,

with a loud clank you landed on top of a scrap of metal, your hands laying on a hard, cool material, you pushed yourself off the object to get a better look on it,

it seemed to hold a humanoid shape, but it by no means looked like one, instead of a face it had a screen, which was pitch black and roughed up, split right through the middle, nothing you couldn't fix.

It didn't have the look of a typical android, it seemed like it was missing its silicone skin, a normal android look closely alike to a human, this one looked more like a robot,

Its body was large, made of a sturdy material, despite having no muscles it did have something alike to it but made of steel, the shine being dulled by the dirt,

your eyes trailed to its chest, which was steel, a shocker. It seemed to have a symbol on its left pectoral in an electric blue tint, while its right one seemed to have a name tag, but the letters were scratched off, what looked deep jagged scratches on its chest, whoever did this either didn't like their name or didn't want anyone to see its real name,

that logo.. That was the logo of the best android engineers in Ether, Its obviously an android, but its strange that they would throw out androids,

your eyes wandered down the android's body to its legs, which were missing, cables poked out of the holes where its legs were supposed to be,

you rand your hand down your face, where were its fucking legs? You couldn't take it home without its legs! You put the Android's upper body on your back, then letting it slip off your back and into your shopping cart with a loud bang,

you began to look around, lifting rubbish with the tip of your shoe, peeking under all surfaces until you saw what seemed to be a foot poking out from a pile of soggy cardboard,

you pulled out the limb with your whole body weight, the sheer height and thickness of that single limb was impressive, the leg stood in height about where your waist was,

you tossed the heavy limb in your shopping cart with the Android, you walked around for about 40 minutes, looking everywhere for the other leg,

just when you were about to give up you tripped over something, looking at what made your hit the ground, you realized it was the leg you were looking for,

your heart beat happily in your chest as you pushed the heavy cart back to your house lab,

you had a dopey grin on your face the whole way home, you couldn't help but have a pep in your step, you were already thinking of how you would name your new Android,

"(Y/n)? O-Oh! It is you! How are you, sweet pea?" You could recognize that voice anywhere, if it wasn't the the village doctor!

You turned around, smiling widely at the man, still in his clad white uniform, hair tie slipping down his long ginger hair, and those characteristic cracked glasses, it was Kairo.

"Heya Kairo! 'm good, jus' pushin this home.'" You waved to him weakly, your calloused hands tired from pushing the cart,

Kairo jogged up to you, stopping only inches away, he brought a hand up to his face, his cheeks adorned with alight dusting of pretty pink,

"I recall asking you to rest, didn't I? You better have a good reason to be wearing yourself out like this.." the ginger scolded, crossing his arms across his chest, his magenta eyes staring you down something alike to a mother’s disappointed gaze,

Kairo was an absolute blessing to have down here in the slums, he was the doctor and used to be a scientist, his knowledge in both fields was greatly appreciated, especially since it seemed the world had it out for you and your physical well being,

he got kicked out of Ether many years ago, you were about 13 when he got dropped in the pit,

He really stirred the pot when he got here, no one even tried getting closer to him due to their reluctance about him and his origins, no one here trusts those who were born in Ether,

Kairo got pushed away, glared at, kicked and even sometimes people spat on him, no one really knows what he did to get him off Ether,

Yet it is still a fact that even if the others have warmed up to him, they still treat him exponentially different from the other habitants of the slums,

you were the first and only one to extend your hand out to him in times of need, you gave him a safe haven when he needed it most, and just for that fact he has sworn to always be with you, through thick and thin, he will protect you and put you back together time and time again, just how you loved him, he will love you back tenfold.

your smile turned bashful, wiping your sweaty hands on your shirt you started trying to recount the events of today,

"..So then I decided to take him home to repair him back up! He's in pretty good shape, I jus need ta' wire his legs back on then fix his screen, give him a lil' bath and I will be done with him!"

Kairo looked back at the robot with narrowed eyes, a dark shadow casting over his pale features,

you felt oddly unsettled by his sharp gaze, this side of him was completely unknown to you, and gee was it scary.

"..Where did you find this thing?" He asked—no, demanded, his voice dropping an octave lower, the sharpness of his tone wasn't quite directed at you though, but more at the robot in your cart,

"Uhm, I found him in the Junk yard.." You rasped out, your throat feeling constricted, words barely audible out of the feeling of fear you had, this mood of him was awfully uncharacteristic of him, it really creeped you out,

Kairo seemed to notice your state, the last thing he would want was to make you fear him.. for now, he will let it go.

"I see.." the taller male responded, a tinge of worry in his voice "Well, all I ask of you is to be careful, you don't know where it came from, and personally, I don't want to see you hurt.." He hugged himself, looking off to the side shyly, his gloved hand reaching up to twirl a strand of his cantaloupe colored hair around his finger,

the carefree smile you had earlier started returning as you saw Kairo softening up again, you were glad he wasn't upset at you,

you ran up to him, momentarily leaving your cart and new companion behind to give him some affection,

your arms wrapped around his slender waist as you cuddled his chest, your cheek pressed up right next to his heart,

Kairo's breath hitched, a kaleidoscope of butterflies going off in his guts, the wings of the small insects making contact with his insides, the pleasant feeling didn’t help the flush in his face spreading like a wildfire,

his longer arms wrapped around your neck, hugging you closer to him, he pressed his lips against your forehead gently, intentionally catching a whiff of your hair's scent, ‘my sweet baby.. You really don’t realize what I feel for you, do you?’ His eyes fluttered closed, long eyelashes ghosting over his tired under eyes,

these were the moments with you he could kill for, he would do anything to be this close to you always, skin to skin, heart to heart, and hopefully one day, lips to lips.

The ginger reluctantly let go, crossing his arms once again as he gazed at your retreating form longingly, his mind couldn't help but wander back to that specific Android, dangerous thoughts leaking into his brain continuously like a broken faucet,

"If you do something to her, I will rip your fucking head off.."

But you on the other hand were giddy as fuck, you had already unloaded the android and sat him down on your lab counter,

lifting his left leg up you propped it below the wires hanging off the holes of where his legs were supposed to be in,

you connected the wires carefully, melting them together once again, soon you connected the legs into his hip socket, a loud clicking noise let you know you did the job correctly,

you did the same with his right leg, another loud click reached your ears, you pulled on the legs as best as you could from different angles, and they wouldn't budge, not a single creak or sign of the limbs wanting to detach from the body anymore,

and with that you moved onto the cracked screen of the head of the android,

you somehow managed to seal the cracks and give the mask a polish to leave it looking good as new, you were pretty satisfied with the results,

you scrubbed off the dirt and grime off the metallic protective plates, you scrubbed and scrubbed every single crevice of its body until the robot was spotless and shining under the dim lighting,

he was beautiful.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest, anxiety coursing through your veins, sweat beads ran down your skin, dampening your shirt,

you opened the back of his cranium, cables wrapped in metallic material linking to the back of his head, a blue power button inside all the wires and mother boards inside, green and silver peeking out from inside his head,

you pressed on the button, then stepped back, crossing your fingers that he would come to life, you clasped your hands together in prayer,

buzzing came from the Android, limbs twitching, sparks coming from its joints,

soon, the screen on its "face" lit up, something alike to a smiley face being displayed on the black screen,

it looked down at its hands, closing and opening its fists, kicking its legs, it realized it was alive once more, that it was moving and that it was okay,

you didn’t know how to react, should you be happy? Scared? It was all so conflicting, you wanted to jump out of happiness but at the same time you wanted to run away, cry and vomit.

It turned its head to you, the gentle sound of ticking coming from deep inside his metal plates,

The sound of its metallic feet hitting the murky ground startled you, making you jump violently, you would have jumped out of your skin if it came closer,

It seemed to stop when it saw that you were scared, and so it stopped, it stared at you, not moving an inch from it place,

slowly, it extended its long arm, opening its robotic palm and holding it out to you, (e/c) looked down at its hand, analyzing how his joints popped and twitched,

you were starting to regret taking the massive machine home, Kairo was right, this Android totally had something off about it,

but even as your common sense screamed at you to stay back and run away, it all was drowned out by the overlapping thoughts buzzing in your head,

how much could this thing sell for? It was modified, Obviously, it was crystal clear that these modifications had been done illegally,

you carefully put your smaller hand in his own, you looked up at the screen that was his face warily,

“a-ah..” the android made a noise, was his voice box broken? You tried repairing him as best as you could, but his voice box was something you unfortunately didn’t know how to repair,

he pointed a finger towards you, tilting his head while making more noises,

“ah.. ah?” Was it asking you something? It gently tapped your arm, pointing at you,

oh. It was asking you for your name.

“oh.. You can’t speak, can you?” It shook its head, putting it hand on its throat to emphasize,

“well.. I’m (Y/n), and.. It’s nice to finally meet you..?” You coughed into your fist as you finished, awkwardly shifting from side to side,

an emoticon of sorts appeared on the metallic male’s face visor, it seemed… happy?

“Aaah?” It pointed to itself, looking down at its name tag, only to realize that it had completely scratched off,

it stayed silent before looking up at you, gently guiding your hand to its chest, where it’s name tag once resided,

“..You want a name?” It nodded, pointing to itself once again,

“..I actually was thinkin’ about what to name you.. Welcome to the world, Exo.” You gave it a toothy grin, watching as how the screen visor of his suddenly showed a blue glowing heart,

It took you by surprise when the droid grabbed onto you by under your arm pits, lifting you up to his height,

you watched as how the glowing blue heart on his visor beat like how a heart would, and it only seemed to be getting faster,

it brought you closer to it, holding you like a baby, it rubbed its cheek(?) against yours, the uncomfortable friction of its glass screen making contact with your own,

And that’s when you heard it, a low rumbling sound resounded from its chest, the vibrations melting against your skin,

is he fucking purring..?

“I’m glad— urgh.. you liked your name..” you barely made out, trying to create some space between both of your bodies, however the bot wouldn’t move a centimeter away from you,

after pleading with it, he decided to put you down,

it gently pat your head, before putting its hands on its knees to observe you more closely,

“uh.. Okay, Well.. You can just follow me around, I want to see how good of a job I did at fixing you..” and with that you walked out of your laboratory,

a larger hand grabbed onto your sleeve, you already knew who it was so you didn’t spare him a look,

you let him grab onto your sleeve, the cool feeling of it’s metal fingers making contact with your skin,

Exo didn’t know what to make of things, he was especially surprised when he woke up to a little human greeting him,

he couldn’t see anything, but from the noises and fleeting touches around his body he could tell that someone was trying to fix him up,

and then he could see everything, from the little scars on your skin to the exact shade of your eye color,

his memory board felt empty, he tried to remember, but his mind was a blank slate, it was like trying to squeeze water from a stone, impossible.

but one thing he did know was that he was eternally indebted to this cute human, Exo wanted to assume that this was his creator, but he knew better, his real creator didn’t care about him,

he knew he was thrown off somewhere high, he didn’t know when or from where, but just that action showed him that whoever created him had no care for him,

But.. You took the time to fix him with your caring hands, you didn’t have any obligation whatsoever to even touch him, but you did,

from looking down at his own body he could tell you spent countless hours polishing his body, not even a crevice of his body had a single spot of filth,

his joints were smooth, his movements were swift and elegant, something he never thought he would be able to regain,

you might as well be his owner now, you are so small.. So frail, he looked down at you and he felt this inexplicable feeling of wanting to grab you and cradle you like a human baby,

your smaller form was so comfortable to hold in his arms, he could accommodate his body to your liking,

he understands that his chest isn’t the most comfortable, under the heavy metal plating there is soft layers of silicone that could help with trying to make you more comfy against his body,

he wished nothing more than to communicate with you, to tell you how much he appreciated you and how he wished to serve you in the way you served him,

but the only type of noise that made it out of his mouth (?) was pathetic moans and sighs, that was no way to communicate with you,

He heard the voice of a man earlier, his sensors picked up on his heart rate, it was.. familiar, he knew that rhythm from some where.. but he can’t quite remember from where,

this mysterious man’s heart beat spiked up as soon as you approached him, his breathing turned slower and heavier,

Exo heard you call out to that man, apparently his name was Kairo.. the android repeated his name in his mind, Kairo, Kairo, Kairo.. That was an unusual name..

then he spoke, and his voice hit home, he still had no idea who this man was, but his hate for him tenfolded,

Exo hated how he spoke to you, his voice was so warm and welcoming towards you, pure love and adoration in his tone, he just knew that man wanted to shove his tongue down your throat, repulsive.

but Exo has claimed you long ago, ever since you picked him up and ever so gently put him into your cart he had vowed to be by your side,

‘Kairo’ directed his tone towards him and Exo didn’t like it one bit, his tone was so sharp, the iron-clad Android could feel the intensity of ‘Kairo’ on him, his eyes feeling like they could burn through the thick layers of metal of his body,

Then he felt a warm calloused hand on his shoulder, gently running up and down the ridges of his armor, that touch made him melt into a puddle of goo,

making him forget about the developing grudge against Kairo,

however he knew that wasn’t going to be the last time he would see him.

. . .

Several days had passed since you had booted Exo’s system up, and it was safe to say that the last days had been nothing but bliss,

it was like he was lying on cloud nine, he started to believe that he had been blessed by some force and sent you down, it was nothing less than euphoria.

You, however had to head into town, and Exo could never dream of making you go alone, never in a millennia would he allow that,

So he decided to accompany you, his large hand clasped around your own, your hand gently grabbing onto his pointer finger,

Exo kept a close eye on you, trying to sense of something was amiss, your heart beat seemed steady, your glucose was normal and your oxygen levels were okay,

he wished he could just carry you so you wouldn’t need to walk, he wouldn’t want to wear down your fragile bones!

but you refused his offer.. you said that you were ‘too old for that’, Exo really didn’t want you to be embarrassed, he decided to let this slide— for now.

his steps were heavy behind you, loud thumps being heard when his mechanical feet hit the ground,

you were pushing your cart through the dust and dirt, while Exo was carrying your backpack and money, who were comically small compared to his large and broad body,

you snickered to yourself as you looked back at him for a split second, he seemed to notice, suddenly his screen lit up, a blue heart blinking on the screen,

“a-ah..” he moaned out, tilting his head close to his right shoulder, you really wished you could understand the damn thing, but it seemed to be able to communicate through moans and exhales,

“Ya know I have zero idea what yer sayin’, right?” You sighed as you looked away, your cart wheels getting jammed on a rock out of nowhere,

it had you clicking your tongue as you bent down to pick the rock out of the old wheels,

the bot bent down to assist you, kneeling right next to you, there to help you if you needed anything,

“(Y/n)! What a coincidence! It has been a bit since we have last spoken, you aren’t running away from me are you?” The familiar voice of a certain admirer rang out from above you,

“hah? ‘Course not, You are my favorite person in this old dinky town..” you gave Kairo a crooked smile, dusting off your pants to face him fully,

his eyes softened, a gentle smile marking his plump lips, sometimes you really forgot how pretty Kairo was,

“..Y-You really think so..?” Aw shit, did you say that out loud? You nodded your head either way, an embarrassed flush warming your cheeks, Kairo put his hands on his face trying to hide the blush heating up his whole face, his hand gently extended out towards you,

Kairo was about to put his hand on your head, however his hand was stopped by a silver encased one, the mechanic fingers tightening around the Ginger’s arm,

“…” a certain chrome plated male stopped Kairo’s arm from going any further,

“..Huh. And who do you think you are?” Kairo retaliated, veins sprawling across his arm and porcelain face, an unnatural look to his other wise doll like appearance,

his glasses slipped down the slope of his nose, showing a pretty little bump on his upturned nose,

his thick brows furrowed, his pretty face twisted into a menacing scowl, his lively magenta eyes losing the shine they had when they met with your (e/c) eyes,

Exo on the other hand didn’t show a sliver of emotion, the screen visor he possessed didn’t show the emoticons he tends to show, instead a pitch black screen was shown,

Expo refused to utter a single sound, which was somehow more menacing than anything, fear instilled deep inside you, slimy tendrils of uncertainty and the urge to run pooling in your intestines,

“ha..haha— How about we calm down?” You suggested as calmly as you could, which was not very good since you were about to piss your pants,

You didn’t notice your hands shaking violently, your fingers and hands being unable to keep still, you were so distracted trying to tone down the situation you forgot about keeping calm yourself,

Both of the men turned to face you, noticing your shaken up state they seemed like they were about to stop,

the duo simultaneously reached out to you, trying to touch you, they seemed to have gotten distracted from their fight, however they were far from over,

“What the fuck do you think you are doing? Can’t you see she is scared? Tsk.. what a disgrace, to think you would care about a human being.. Touch her and I won’t hesitate to pull those cables out of your fucking head.” Kairo threatened, his hand balling into a fist

“…” the bot just stared at him, unresponsive.

This was your chance to book it out of here, a crowd of people were coming your way, you took advantage of their ‘moment’ to get away,

you blended into the streets, luckily you had a few silver coins on you, so you could hang out until Exo came to find you, which he always did,

you could apologize to Kairo later and spend some well deserved time with the ginger, not today though.

shit.. Did they team up to come after you? Because.. they aren’t where they were going when you looked back..

Is it just you or.. Are two people breathing down your neck?

[tanadrin]

Fell down a rabbit hole on ancient Israelite child sacrifice and it’s interesting that 1) it’s basically impossible (without jumping through absurd apologetic hoops) to explain important parts of the Hebrew Bible unless they are reacting to, being revised against, or being overlaid on a literary stratum which assumes the existence of Yahwistic child sacrifice; 2) as such it seems there is a very ancient strand of religious law (renegotiated at a very early date!) which specifically commands the sacrifice of all human and animal firstborn males; 3) like all religious law in the Bible, “one group of elites produced religious literature commanding a thing” doesn’t mean that those commandments represent actual universal and uncontested practices—indeed, one of the reasons people produce religious literature is to argue for a set of practices or to shore up their own position by portraying it as normative, and there is very little evidence that the ancient near eastern law codes (religious or secular) produced for propaganda purposes were used like we might use a modern law code; 4) the Canaanite/Phoenecian/Punic/Northwest Semitic religious milieu was certainly one in which infant sqcrifice was at least irregularly practiced, but no such archeological remains have been found in ancient Israel, but by their very nature this kind of infanticide leaves very little remains behind: infant skeletons are small and mostly cartilage, fire seems to have frequently been involved in such sacrifice, and the reason evidence of Carthaginian child sacrifice survived is bc such remains were interred in jars in Carthaginian tophets. 5) While a lot of modern commentators balk at taking the plain meaning of the relevant passages of the Bible seriously, and think that on grounds of basic social and emotional realism they cannot be read as supporting the existence at one time of Yahwistic child sacrifice, we really do not understand the realities of living in an Iron Age society with its attendant phenomenally high infant mortality rates, where many parents seem to have bonded with their children much later, and fertility rates were much higher to compensate for the basic reality of how often babies died. I would add to that my hunch that people in the ancient past were by modern standards just more likely to be traumatized in general, and that probably fucks up how you deal with violence and the value of human life and how you build systems which create social meaning out of death, too. “People in the past were human beings who loved their children” is not incompatible with “people in the past did horrific shit occasionally because they thought it was spiritually, socially, or materially necessary.”

And I am in some ways sympathetic to people who are reluctant to accept evidence of ancient Israelite, or even ancient Carthaginian child sacrifice. It’s so alien to our own moral sensibilities—it is in fact utterly repugnant to them! Ergo the urge to try to read the evidence differently, even if it requires wild contortions. But we know that (for instance) the death penalty and exposure of infants and religious ordeals would have all been common in the region and it seems a small step to me to imagine some ritualization of these practices that at least imbues infanticide with some kind of deeper spiritual significance, if for no other reason than as a kind of cope. In a way it’s encouraging that we have come so far that we refuse to believe any society could have ever endorsed such a thing. Nor is it a recent transition: much of the overt violence and bloodshed of the ancient Israelite law codes was renegotiated away thousands of years ago, and the renegotiation of child sacrifice happened so early that it was a major part of the formation of those codes in the form that we have them now. That too is encouraging—you don’t need modern, historically contingent sensibilities to look at brutal social systems and go “fuck this, let’s replace them with something kinder and more humane.” That tendency is as much a part of the basic forces that drive human history as our violence or our shortsightedness is.

[metaphorical-goblin]

I really love the Gregory-Miles Autism Solidarity lol.

"so little Miles seems... really really excited about law!"

Gregory, who went through a 15 year period of obsession with ancient Japanese government and samurai codes: "haha yes, children have the most fascinating interests"

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Ancient Law Unearthed From 5000 BC

Though the Code of Hammurabi is often cited as the first legal text, a much older stele dating to 5750 BC is thought to have held an earlier code of law, specifically dealing with mineral sales and metals of the proto-bronze age. The stele only has one law remaining intact but may have held over 20 total.

Unearthed from an ancient tin mine in Serbia, the Stele of Cassander The Nameless is a solid granite block measuring about 3 meters tall, engraved with Ancient Macedonian letters and mostly broken apart by time and mining activity.

Most of the laws on the stele are unreadable, but law 7 is fully intact and details the ownership rights of tin ingots, stating that it was not the miner nor the owner of the mine who had the right to sell the tin, but rather whoever participated in the smelting and reduction into the metal's pure form. Because of the past tense writing of ancient Hellenistic dialects, the first law recorded in human civilization translates exactly to, "He who smelt it dealt it."

[vorachii]

ㅤㅤ⸺ DIVINE (1)

pairing: sukuna x angel!reader.

cw: slightly graphic violence though nothing bad, reader is gender neutral, sukuna is a kid for the most part (this is meant to be platonic), reader described to have white wings and a golden halo, slow paced (kind of), angsty though some fluff.

ㅤ1ㅤ｜ㅤ2ㅤ｜ㅤ3ㅤ｜ㅤ4ㅤ｜ㅤ5

Angels are timeless, beings of hollow light and divine purpose, bound by an ancient code: to watch, to guide, but never to touch. Never to interfere. Yet even in the vastness of eternity, some laws fracture… and some angels fall.

It was raining the night the infant was born.

Not a soft, cleansing rain, but a brutal, slashing downpour that drowned out the screams echoing through the tiny, crumbling village. Inside a flickering hut, his mother lay twisted in agony, blood soaking the straw beneath her. The midwife’s hands trembled as she pulled the child free, but the moment the infant slipped into the world, the air shifted, heavy, suffocating.

The screaming stopped.

For a beat, there was nothing but the thunder outside. Then the midwife staggered backward, a raw, strangled noise tearing from her throat, knocking over a lantern that flared, hissed, then died in the rain leaking through the roof.

“Demon—”

The child in her hands was monstrous.

The infant’s skin was pale, stretched too tightly over sharp bones, foour arms, tiny fists clenched tight and slick with blood. Two faces, one sleeping, one wide awake, both twisted in something between fury and hunger. A jagged line ran down his abdomen, splitting open into a toothy, drooling maw that snapped at the cold air as if starving from the moment it drew breath.

His mother’s final cry didn’t come from pain, but horror. She tried to turn away. She couldn’t. His father stood frozen in the doorway, rain washing down his face, though his eyes remained dry.

“Kill it,” he muttered, voice hollow. “That… that thing isn’t ours.”

But no blade was raised that night. Fear bound their hands, not mercy and so Sukuna survived, yet the village did not forgive him for it.

As he grew, so did the legend of the creature that lived among them, a demon, a curse. Children whispered curses behind his back, their mothers yanking them aside like his very presence could stain them.. Farmers spat into the dirt when he passed. His extra arms became a reason to shove him harder, his sharp teeth a reason to call him a beast. The villagers spoke of him only in whispers, if they spoke of him at all.

He stopped crying the third time a stone split his brow. By the time he was six, no one spoke to him unless it was to curse him. His own father refused to look him in the eye.

The hunger was constant, he stole. Fought. Survived.

Stones followed in his wake, small at first, then bigger as they realized he wouldn’t fight back, not yet. His two faces made it worse. One could glare while the other grinned. It unsettled them. It made them crueler.

By the time he was six, he’d stopped flinching when they hit him.

The other boys in the village didn’t just throw stones — they threw fists, sticks, anything that could bruise and break. Once, they cornered him near the well, four of them bigger than him, all wide-eyed and trembling but too deep in their own cruelty to stop.

“Monster!” one spat.

The second he lunged at Sukuna, he made his first mistake.

Snap!

Sukuna’s stomach mouth shot open, rows of jagged teeth clamping down on the boy’s wrist. The scream was loud enough to stop the crows in the trees.

When the blood sprayed, something inside Sukuna twisted — not in guilt, but satisfaction.

The boy limped home, arm torn and raw.

That night, the village elders gathered. The next morning, they dragged Sukuna from his hut before dawn, ropes biting into his wrists. His father didn’t speak a word as they led him to the edge of the forest.

A demon didn’t deserve to live among man

They dragged him to the edge of the forest at dawn. No explanations. No warnings. The ropes around his wrists bit deep, but Sukuna didn’t scream. Didn’t beg. His father shoved him hard into the dirt.

“If you come back, we’ll kill you this time.”

They left him there, in the cold, in the mud, a child with two faces, four arms, and no one left to hate but himself. He watched as they turned their backs on him, as if leaving him to rot was mercy. The cold bit into his bare feet, the forest swallowed their footsteps.

Rain started again, softer this time, soaking into his hair as he stood there, six years old and already forgotten.

And for the first time in his short, brutal life, Sukuna was alone.