#he invited the emptiness in and that has consequences if you do not treat the emptiness well

[ganymedesclock]

Honestly PK’s relationship with the void is actually kind of interesting when you consider Radiance’s implicit center-of-worship/base of operations was on top of a mountain as far away from it as possible, she calls the void her Ancient Enemy and greets it with the implicit assumption none of the vessels are individuals or even pawns of the wyrm nearly as much as they are pawns of said enemy which has been trying to destroy her all along.

PK, conversely, seems profoundly and personally obsessed with the stuff, possibly even to personal detriment. I’m reminded somewhat of the fate of Marie Curie whose fascination with radium led to great insights, but also left her massively overexposed to it.

He built his palace as close to the abyss as you’d get; his honor guard as well as some flying novelties (?) or service drones that propagate throughout his castle are effectively just great volumes of void wandering around. That the Abyss itself contains a great lighthouse that was personally attended by a royal retainer as well as a small personal office overlooking the great abyssal shore adds almost a quieter note of personal tragedy to the far greater horror that went on down there- that even to PK’s flawed worldview, the Abyss was not a place of great dishonor before he enacted the vessel project there. He liked it; he wanted other people to come down there and see it. In one of his writings he calls it “power opposed” but specifically in the context that he was sure he could get some pants on this thing somehow and put it in society.

PK is... thoughtlessly callous in many ways and one of the big ways is this belief of a civilizing force, that for him, the nicest possible thing he thinks he can do for anyone seems to be fitting them into a perfect, tailored box where they do exactly the work that is good for them and good for everyone forever. There’s a reason that Hollow is subtextually the Favored Heir, the inheritor of the kingdom to whom PK literally left all of Hallownest when you look at the message attached to the Worldsense bench- and they were literally a martyr being sent to spend the rest of their life chained inside of a seal as a sacrifice. A King without a throne or a crown or any political sway. And that up to a point, PK convinced himself this was not only the right and proper thing, but that he himself was... breathtakingly unprepared to grieve Hollow. Like it did not occur to him this might actually be a bad thing even when previous steps of it had horrified him even.

So I think it means a lot that PK has this notion of civilizing the Void. That it could belong in his big divine order that everything fits in. It’s foolish, and, from the POV the game takes- that of his own voidborn children- it’s immensely cruel, that Hollow who was offered A Place and A Meaning was no happier than others, and we see the Collector who also seems to have been born and shaped to PK’s design only to be reshaped by someone else’s- the noble who Kept them in the Tower of Love- resulting in a being that has deeply warped ideas about safety and protection and what it means to love someone else.

Like as the inspiring post said, PK absolutely has no illusions about the void’s ability and willingness to destroy him. But his fascination with it- before his other issues get involved- is almost one of the most ‘innocent’ things in his personality.

[nikki-is-a-nerd]

I Love You So

Synopsis:

Satoru thinks back on how he messed up your relationship on the day that he overheard Shoko and Utahime's conversation.

In a way he should have known that you would find someone better, after all he was the one who pushed you away.

Genre: Angst

Note:

This is part of my 2 week break from star wars fanfiction! But after that, it's back to my usual.

___________________________________

Today was quite slow in school. The students were training with Nanami, there were no curses that needed the help of a special grade, no injuries. It was a calm day, a day that Satoru took to roam around the empty halls, reminiscing good memories. With friends, with someone special. He wasn't even meaning to overhear Shoko and Utahime, he was supposed to make his presence known until he heard your name.

"Utahime, have you heard the news?" Shoko asked.

"What news? Like the local news or hot gossip kind of news?" Utahime asked as well.

"Hot gossip. This is good news, (Y/N)'s about to get married this coming October." Shoko said happily.

"Really? I'm so happy for her. She deserves that. See this proves that leaving this life behind ensures a happy life." Utahime said.

"That's true, Nanami and I received invitations, Mei-Mei too, so you should check your email too." Shoko said.

A moment of silence and all that could be heard was their breathing and the sound of fingers tapping on screens.

"I got it! Oh she looks so cute in the picture. This guy is so lucky." Utahime exclaimed.

Satoru was frozen in place. You were getting married? Has it really been that long? Why did he feel like his heart just dropped? Either way, he teleported away from that hallway. He left and went back to his apartment. He sat down, no sound was made aside from his breathing anyway. He opened his phone, to check his email, he hasn't changed it in years, so you would still have his contact and yet he saw no invitation, no message. Nothing that would let him see how you were now. Social media wasn't your priority, you didn't post much and even if you did, you blocked him. How were you? How's life? Who were you marrying? All these questions ran through his mind before settling on one more question. Do you still hate him?

Satoru in his youth wasn't the best person to exist. He was cocky, rude and mean. He spoke without consequences because, who could hurt the strongest? He wasn't the best lover, nor was he the best person. Too focused on living his life and treating everything as a game. The only person he took seriously was Suguru, his best friend. They were both special grades, bound to be strong together. You? You were a grade one sorcerer, although still strong, it was nothing compared to them. Suguru would reassure you that it didn't matter that you weren't a special grade, Satoru loves you nonetheless. Love, how funny, he thinks now. He realized how much he loved you too late.

During his youth, he knew that he was attractive, that both men and women wanted him or wanted to be him, he knew he was the best. You two used to fight over the fact that he would shamelessly flirt with them even if you were around. His girlfriend. Yet he ignored them all. Recalling a vivid memory of an argument, he swears he can still hear your voice.

"Satoru, have you no decency? You really have to flirt with that girl? I was beside you!" You said angrily.

"So? You're not my wife, stop nagging me." He said frowning.

"Nagging? Satoru, how would you feel if I flirted with other people with you there?" You asked him.

"You wouldn't, it's not like anyone would bother if it's you." He scoffed.

He just said them because he knew it would make you leave him, he didn't think his words through as you slammed the door to his dorm, just whispering how you were going to Shoko. You didn't talk to him for weeks, he remembers complaining to Suguru, calling you a crybaby. Suguru only frowned. Satoru wasn't blind, he knew Suguru held romantic feelings for you, so did Naoya Zenin, but neither tried anything. Suguru respected you and Satoru too much. Naoya was simply afraid of Satoru retaliating. Suguru only shook his head in disbelief at how callous he was. Suguru knew that he was smart but in matters involving love, he was an idiot. A fool.

"You know Satoru, continue to treat her that way and you'll lose her, sooner rather than later." Suguru said as he looked at him.

"I bet I wouldn't even care." He remembers sayin.

Oh how wrong he was. It was a year after Suguru defected when you and he broke up. He remembers shouting but not what he said. He remembers tears but not his. For nearly half a year after the break up, you remained in Jujutsu Tech, completing missions, until you returned from one, a little more bruised, soul shattered and eyes dull. You ignored Shoko's calls to go to the infirmary, ignoring his presence, you just went to Principal Yaga and after thirty minutes, you left his office and went straight to your dorm.

That was the last time he saw you. Apparently you were sent on a mission that involved two special grades. Though you could handle special grades quite well, handling two after exorcising two grade one curses was too much. The higher ups lied about your mission. You left a letter for Shoko and Satoru, Nanami had quit earlier than you. He remembers seeing the neatly written letter and inside the envelope was his gift to you. A handmade bracelet that he had to ask Shoko and Suguru to help him make. You returned it to him. The bracelet he made to help ask you on a date. Returning his feelings, his love. He scoffs once again, Love?

The tears in his eyes that he didn't know had fallen were messing up his vision, his heart ached badly. He clawed at his chest in hopes for it to go away. Then he saw the last words on your letter.

Though I do not regret our time together, I hate you for shattering my heart.

He had no right to weep the way he did. Just as he has no right this time around to wish that you'd let him see you again and perhaps try to get you to love him. Suguru was right. Losing you was painful but knowing that any chances of rekindling your relationship was truly gone.

"I love you" He whispered to nobody but himself.

"I love you, I'm sorry..." His voice cracked.

"I hope you're happier than you ever were with me."

He let his emotions go and let the tears flow out. Love was the biggest curse, but this was a curse he was willing to bear.

[kamomie]

Frequent q!Foolish defense statements and my response(long read btw):

Why are people calling q!Foolish a traitor over one lie? And why are people treating him so harshly and hating on him, in comparison to others?

I don't know why q!Foolish defenders are so adamant about that one lie, when it's clear that it's just one part of the whole issue. Arresting his friends, believing the federation over his friends, not caring all too much about what will happen to his friends, then his lie, him being purposefully deceitful when people ask him questions about what is going on. Him choosing to continue his federation work and deciding to be quiet about it. All of that adds up, all of that is the reason people consider him a traitor.

I haven’t seen anybody actually hate on q!Foolish, I’ve seen him get criticized and people(me) hoping he gets a rude awakening? Which is fair to me.

Anyway, people weren’t nicer to q!Cellbit? I know I heavily criticized q!Cellbit on twitter lmao, it first occurred to me on day 2 of him working for the federation that it could be a double game. People might be slightly harsher on q!Foolish because he’s doing this for selfish reasons, which is fine, when you don’t also harm your friends, which he did.

This is also why people are being more lenient on q!Fit, because people are waiting to see if his infiltration will help, but I, like many others, did think it was shitty of q!Fit to withhold information about q!Tazercraft from q!Forever. But mostly q!Fit is transparent about his work in the federation.

I believe people were nicer towards q!Jaiden because when she was contacted by Cucurucho, she didn’t know about q!Cellbit and q!Felps kidnapping and therefore did not know just how bad the federation is/is perceived.

Also to make it clear, no one is saying q!Foolish has done something unforgivable or unredeemable, but he deserves to face the consequences for his actions.

They didn’t take him seriously, so he felt like he had to lie! What else could he do?

I’m confused, did we watch the same thing? They very much did take him seriously, they started asking questions and when q!foolish started his empty talking, they started questioning if he was lying and asked if he did it for a cloud? No where in this situation were they not taking him seriously? Was the interrogation not a major indicator that they took it very seriously? He went into this situation already having decided to not share information and was deceitful from the beginning. Also, his lie came later when he was talking to q!Jaiden, who very much took him seriously…

Q!Foolish was always pro-federation!

Yup, but because there was trust between them, they let q!Foolish have his fun. This is also why it’s gonna be detrimental when some of them learn he was being deceitful, and he lied. Q!Foolish joining the federation would’ve been mostly fine, if he was transparent and shared information.

Q!Bad believes that q!Foolish is essentially used as a federation scapegoat and is therefore treating him much the same as before, but the trust between them has definitely taken a bit of a hit.

Poor q!Foolish, he's always been so kind and patient, even when others were killing him and bothering him. He deserves a villain arc, and to say fuck them all.

LMAO. Yes q!Foolish is a patient person, I agree, and he certainly has been very kind to others, though kind would not be the first word I'd use to describe him.

q!Foolish is an instigator. Almost all the time he's being hit or killed it's because he's actively hoping for that sort of reaction. The most prevalent example is his relationship with Dapper. q!Foolish will antagonize Dapper, and then Dapper will retaliate. It's all in good fun. It's not serious. The same with q!Bad, who is the person I know people are actually wanting to criticize when talking about this specific point. All it tells me is that you don’t understand their friendship and that you don’t understand q!Bad nor q!Foolish. Yeah, q!Bad will invite q!Foolish to a dungeon as a meat shield, but in reality, who actually tanks? Q!Bad. And that is just one example.

And if you truly believe he needs a villain arc and needs to fuck everybody over, then stop defending him and making excuses for him? It's so weak.

And a small snippet from my overview of q!Foolish in general, as it relates :)

One of the things I’ve noticed is q!Foolish is a person who rarely thinks about the possible consequences of his actions and words. This is why I hope he gets forced to face the consequences for the betrayal. I so badly want to see him handle something where the harm happened to other people and not to himself, because he can easily brush off the consequences that harmed himself, but it might surprise him that he can’t brush off the hurt he caused q!Tazercraft.

[yhwhrulz]

Today's Daily Encounter Monday, September 25, 2023

Chosen to Be Holy

"So, you must live as God's obedient children. Don't slip back into your old ways of living to satisfy your own desires. You didn't know any better then. But now you must be holy in everything you do, just as God who chose you is holy. For the Scriptures say, 'You must be holy because I am holy.' And remember that the Heavenly Father to whom you pray has no favorites. He will judge or reward you according to what you do. So, you must live in reverent fear of him during your time here as 'temporary residents'. For you know that God paid a ransom to save you from the empty life you inherited from your ancestors. And it was not paid with mere gold or silver, which lose their value. It was the precious blood of Christ, the sinless, spotless Lamb of God."1

In Decision magazine some time ago, Karen Morerod wrote about shopping in a store for a sweater. She was looking for one at minimal cost, so she went to the clearance rack. As she flipped through the sweaters, one caught her eye. It was the right color and the right size, and best of all, the price tag was marked $8.00. Without much more thought, Karen made her purchase.

At home she slipped on the sweater. Its texture was like silk. She had made her purchase so quickly that she hadn't noticed how smooth and elegant the sweater was. Then she saw the original price tag: $124.00! Karen writes, "I gasped. I had never owned any clothing of that value. I had come home with what I thought was a 'cheap buy,' but the original price was quite high. I had been oblivious to its value."

Then Karen concludes her article with these words: "Just as with my sweater, I have often treated the power of Jesus' blood like a 'cheap purchase.' [God's] grace, though free to me, carried a high price tag – the life of his very own Son."

I often have conversations with people who ask me to pray for God's blessings upon their life, but what is interesting is that they continue disobeying God's Word and fulfilling their own desires, yet expect God to bless them anyway. What they don't realize, perhaps, is that we will reap the consequences of what we sow. If we intentionally choose to live in disobedience to God, let us not be alarmed when things don't go as well as we planned. God tells us in today's Scripture to be holy just as He is holy. Many times, we focus on the impossible task of being holy in these imperfect bodies, however when we put our focus on the fact that HE is holy and HIS Spirit lives in us, we realize that we were never meant to do this alone. It may be difficult to leave old habits behind when we come to know Christ, but if we truly want to experience God's blessings in our lives, we must die to our flesh and allow Christ to live in and through us. When we realize the price God paid to set us free from a wasted life, we can't help but want to live lives worthy of such love. Once we live a life in obedience to God, trusting Him, only then can we really experience the joy of His Salvation through Jesus.

Suggested prayer: Dear God, forgive me for the times I have taken your gift of Salvation for granted. When I think of the true price that Jesus paid in my place, I want nothing more than to live a life worthy of that sacrifice. I pray that you allow me to die to my desires, so that your Spirit can guide me into the holiness you have called me to. Help me to live in obedience to your Word so that I can experience the incomparable joy of a personal relationship with you. Thank you for hearing and answering my prayer. In Jesus' name, amen.

1 Peter 1:14-19 (NLT).

Karen R. Morerod, "Lesson Learned from a Sweater," Decision, November 1999, p. 39. From a sermon by C. Philip Green, The Holiness of Grace, 4/29/2011.

Today's Encounter was written by: Crystal B.

NOTE: If you would like to accept God's forgiveness for all your sins and His invitation for a full pardon Click on: http://www.actsweb.org/invitation.php. Or if you would like to re-commit your life to Jesus Christ, please click on http://www.actsweb.org/decision.php to note this.

Daily Encounter is published at no charge by ACTS International, a non-profit organization, and made possible through the donations of interested friends. Donations can be sent at: http://www.actscom.com

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When copying or forwarding include the following: "Daily Encounter by Richard (Dick) Innes (c) 2005-2023 ACTS International

[libraford]

The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time. 

The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.

This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo

There are rules and there are rules.

In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word. 

Don't. 

Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs. 

Let them. 

There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem. 

Life is surprising. 

 I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now. 

The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in. 

"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think." 

And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly. 

"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!" 

The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door. 

"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later." 

I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice. 

While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away. 

She has a pattern.

She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time." 

The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying. 

After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods. 

Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register. 

And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out. 

This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief. 

"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices." 

"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special." 

She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story: 

"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them." 

"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?" 

Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious. 

And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag. 

She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison. 

What she went to prison for was drug trafficking. 

"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen. 

"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!" 

And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture. 

By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow. 

And that's why there are rules. 

On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful. 

"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said. 

"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse. 

It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street. 

Wren drives very fast. 

If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry. 

"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief. 

Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"

"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect." 

Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her. 

But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing. 

So now there are rules. 

If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag. 

If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out. 

If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first. 

The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00. 

We do not keep trash bags in plain sight. 

Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags. 

Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it. 

Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it. 

Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you. 

If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble. 

The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.

There are rules and there are rules and there are rules. 

If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount. 

You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways. 

She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said: 

"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!" 

"They've been sitting without water for hours." 

"They're still good!" 

"They were out in the sun." 

"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!" 

"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."

Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears. 

We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage. 

And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.

She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me. 

Again.

"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email." 

"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday." 

"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!" 

"Saturday." 

"Yeah." 

"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday." 

"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale." 

"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday." 

She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer. 

 And again.

"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together. 

"Sure." 

"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink." 

"Sure." 

I print it. I ring her up $5. 

"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free." 

"Grandpa said- banners start at $5." 

"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time." 

"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?" 

She grumbled, and paid. 

 And again. 

"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?" 

"When the work is done." 

"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"

"I stop working when the work is done, Wren." 

She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?" 

"When the work stops, I rest."

 And again. 

"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up. 

"Oh baby..." 

"No. We're doing away with the discounts." 

There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling. 

"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-" 

"How can you do this to me?" 

"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement." 

"After all these years and this is how you treat me?" 

"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.

"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar." 

Stamp, stamp, stamp. 

Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back. 

"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register. 

"Is it now?" 

 And again. 

She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.

She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin. 

I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned. 

Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go. 

She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me. 

I began taking down numbers. 

27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens. 

I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler. 

"$54? What do I have that's $54?" 

"The oasis. They're $2 each." 

"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1." 

"I can text Grandpa and ask her." 

"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!" 

"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses." 

"22.50 is everybody prices." 

"Welcome to 'everybody.'" 

"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!" 

"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else." 

She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me. 

I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me. 

"I'm gonna call Kyle on this." 

"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.' 

She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand. 

"Can you do something for me  on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty." 

"9.50." 

"9.50's the regular price." 

"Regular price is $14." 

"No it ain't." 

"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals." 

She put them back. 

She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy. 

She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!" 

There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice. 

Not here. 

Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be. 

It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes... 

... to flat-out telling someone 'no.' 

"No." 

It's such a great word. 

There are rules and there are rules. 

And there are thieves that the rules are made for. 

And there are words like 'no.' 

And all those things are magic in very human ways. 

[jishyucks]

The L Word ‣ hjs

‣ genre: angst with a fluffy ending, arranged marriage, sort of modern royalty (rich kid!au), female reader

‣ wc: 2.1k

‣ summary: “Tell me, Han. Has she ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”; in which Jisung's afraid that Y/N's going to leave him in rising of rumors but learns he shouldn't judge a situation from the words of others

‣ warnings?: The Hwang 'sibs' are mean in this (just a bit), lowkey rushed, jisung runs off because of overthinking

Looking at the ballroom’s appearance, Jisung feels as though he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Like some puzzle piece placed in the wrong box. The people attending the party lived lavish lifestyles, knowing the difference between the different forks placed at the tables. Etiquette was more important to them than the basics a middle-class person would even care about.

Though Jisung had good ideas of such subjects, it wasn't forced onto him like those around him. The only reason why he was able to attend the party was because of a marriage arrangement your father and his father had made as some kind of sick ‘contract’ regarding business. Though he wasn’t complaining, feelings for you developed through the years of knowing you since childhood, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about a handful of things.

For one, you guys were engaged through the arrangement. It’s been three years since the announcement, and even if Jisung believed you were fine with it, even if you ensured to Jisung that you were happy with the engagement, intrusive thoughts started keeping him up at night.

He knew you. You hated speaking out your feelings, whether it led to consequences or not. What if you actually weren’t fine with it? What if you were somehow threatened by your father and the contract to actually speak out about the engagement? He didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him.

Then there was his family’s reputation. His family was deemed drastically poorer than yours by the other associated families and businesses. He was afraid of tainting your family’s reputation or seeming like one of those leeches found at the bottom of murky ponds. Though it was an arranged marriage, Jisung had genuine feelings for you. It was his father that was in it for the money and Jisung was nothing like his father.

“Hey, scrounger!” Jisung turned to find Hyunjin and his sister Yeji approaching him from the opposite corner of the room. They both were dressed in clothes that were probably a lot more expensive than his own, his clothes being hand-me-downs from his father.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yeji smirked, “You don’t even have business here.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, eyeing down the boy.

Jisung didn’t cower under their gaze, instead of straightening his back, “I’m here because I was invited. My father was invited as well.” Don’t show fear, he told himself, That’s what they want.

“Ahh~,” Hyunjin chuckled, “Good way to disguise 'because of Y/N.' Tell me, Han. Has Y/N ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”

Yeji butted in, laughing, “I think love is too strong of a word… how ‘bout like? Has she ever told you that she liked you? Cause rumor has it she’s planning on breaking your engagement.”

Jisung gulped, “S-she has… and gossip is bullshit.” He lied. When the arrangement was created, there was some kind of unspoken assumption that you both liked each other. As a result of this, no confessions were made from you both. Sure it was stupid, but in Jisung’s eyes, actions spoke louder than words, and just by how he treated you and you treated him, you both cared very much for each other. Of course, other people never paid attention to actions and relied on direct statements.

“We don’t gossip, Han,” Hyunjin scoffs, “Who would pass up the opportunity to marry Bang Chan when he’s the son of the top businessman in all of Korea?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, eyed widening slightly at the mention of Bang Chan’s name.

“His father apparently wanted to create a deal with her father that was a lot better than his deal with yours,” Hyunjin explained, “Isn’t your engagement part of that poorer deal?”

Jisung chose not to reply, biting his tongue. Instead, he shoots Hyunjin a narrowed glare, not up for defending himself or arguing. With the lack of response from their target, the siblings simply rolled their eyes and walked away, taking a seat at their designated table.

When the attention was diverted away from him, Jisung couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall. He feels his heart beating quicker than at rest, thoughts running through his mind like crazy. You wouldn’t leave him just like that right? You wouldn’t.

Then his mind wanders back to Hyunjin and Yeji’s question. Yes, he did think that actions were undoubtedly stronger than words, but now that a spotlight was shone on the hidden yet obvious fact that you both hadn’t said anything about each others’ feelings, he couldn’t help but believe that you could possibly be leaving him. But then again, he has never said anything to you and his feelings existed.

He felt the sudden urge to look for you, who had been busy accompanying your father with the guests. Maybe he will actually confess how he truly felt, just in case you were actually thinking about breaking the engagement. Maybe he could save it somehow, just in case your father was willing to make the deal with Mr. Bang.

Chewing the bottom of his lip, he scanned the room, looking for the lavender dress you were wearing. But with the clumps of people, his line of sight was constantly stopped abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled politely, making his way through the crowd, “Excuse me.” He ignored the looks some people gave him, still slithering his way between the socializing people. Though his hair was parted in a way that exposed part of his forehead, he felt the need to hide under his bangs, keeping his head low as he did.

The familiar sound of your father’s laugh drove Jisung to stop and look around his area. If he was close, you’d be close. Scanning his surroundings completely, he finally spots your father, with you standing close beside him. He feels a smile rise on his lips as he begins to make his way towards you both, heartbeat racing just as his thoughts were.

Opening his mouth to call out for you, he quickly stops himself when he realizes that you and your father were holding a conversation with Bang Chan and his own father. His feet abruptly stop, allowing him to overhear the exchange of banter.

“Well, it was a pleasure having this conversation with you,” Mr. Bang chuckled, “I will see you on Monday for the papers?” He held a hand out for a handshake, a smile filled with pride appearing on his lips.

Your father nodded, “Likewise. I’m looking forward to it.” He completes the handshake, which then queues for Chan to lean in for a hug.

Shit, Jisung gulps, feeling his heart drop to his stomach, What the hell just happened?

You take a step forward and hug Chan back for a brief second before pulling back, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here, Chan.”

Chan’s dimples appeared as he smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jisung was frozen on the spot, unsure whether or not he should say anything. The notes that he had mentally jotted down in his head were suddenly ripped into pieces and he was practically speechless.

Obliviously, you turn to follow your father, who was already ready to move on to another conversation. Mid-turn, the boy dressed in a striped, navy suit had caught your attention, giving him a double-take, “Oh! Jisung!” The corners of your mouth rise higher, eyes lighting up at the sight of the familiar boy. A wave of comfort washed over you. It was refreshing to see him after interacting with so many strangers and acquaintances.

When you go to approach him, Jisung panics and begins to back into the people behind him. It was then you noticed the look of distraught on his face, causing you to speed up. At this, he turns and runs, causing commotion around him as dodges those who got in his way.

“Jisung!” You called out, turning the heads of those people around you. The music had drowned your voice out from those further away from you, “Jisung!?” You begin making your way through the crowd of people, going as fast as you could in heels so that you wouldn’t lose Jisung. A million assumptions were running through your head, worry lining each and every one of them.

Swinging the door open, Jisung finds himself stumbling out into the empty corridor of the hotel. With the choice of left and right, Jisung stops and impulsively runs in one direction, not minding where he would end up if kept running.

So you were going to break the engagement… without warning? How were you going to break the news to him? How was he supposed to react once you told him about it all? Happy? Sad? Excited?

You finally reached the door of the ballroom, slipping out rather roughly into the corridor. Your head whips left and right, seeing Jisung’s trailing feet to the right of the hallway, turning the corner. You let out a heavy breath before kicking off your heels, booking it in that direction.

Your mind wanders to why Jisung was running. What did he hear? Was he okay? Could it be what other people were saying again? But Jisung was never usually one to let words get to him.

Jisung lets himself rest once he gets to a secluded room. Judging by its content, he realized that he managed to slip into the coatroom, but he didn’t care. He needed time alone to think. He just needed to process this entire situation.

“Jisung?” He hears you call out. Jisung sinks down at the corner of the room, resting his head against the wall. He stays quiet, resting his forehead against his knees.

The door to the coat room opens, revealing your disheveled figure, “Jisung…” You pause and try to catch your breath, “There… there you are.”

Jisung doesn’t lift his head, afraid that if he did face you, he would burst into tears. He could sense you approaching him, though, settling down beside him. He could feel your dress up against him. Soon he feels your hand take his, holding it tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

When Jisung doesn’t answer, you don’t say anything to push out an explanation. You let the question simmer, resting your head against his shoulder.

At this point, Jisung’s mind was projecting none of his thoughts but static. He didn’t know where to start and what to bring up. How was he supposed to confront you about the engagement?

“I’m happy for you two,” Jisung blurted out quietly, avoiding eye contact, “I really am.” Your ears perked up, confused at what Jisung was going on about.

“I think people will like you both together more than us,” Jisung continued, “Just know that I lo–“

You interrupt him, turning to completely face him, “Jisung, what are you talking about?” You turned your body towards him, completely facing the cowered boy. Though your body language was practically begging for eye contact, Jisung still avoided it, playing with his rings to keep him from losing control over his emotions.

Building up his confidence, Jisung let himself look at you before whispering, “Y/N?” He sniffled quietly.

“Yeah, Sung?”

Jisung gulped and asked, “Do you like me?”

You’re taken aback by the question, not expecting it out of all the questions Jisung could have asked. Is this why he was crying?

“Of course I do, Jisung, what makes you thin–“

“I mean genuinely like me. Do you have feelings for me?” Words were spewing out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying. He could feel his emotions taking control of himself, which often is never a good thing.

“Jisung, I love you, okay? Why do you think otherwise?” The beat of your heart sped up with worry. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern as Jisung’s lips quivered slightly.

“The Hwang's told me you were planning on breaking our engagement because Bang Chan’s father offered a better deal than my father,” he explained quietly. He felt as though that if he spoke any louder, he would break out into tears, “I told them I didn’t believe them… t-then they asked me if you’ve ever told me if you did have feelings for me. I just didn’t know what to think when… when I saw your father accept Mr. Bang’s deal. I was afraid you were actually going to leave me.”

You gently slapped his shoulder in shock, “Han Jisung, are you serious?” Jisung responded wordlessly, though a puzzled look replaced his previous emotion.

“My father approached me beforehand about it. He wanted to break our engagement because of the deal, telling me that it was no longer necessary,” you say, “But I told him I wanted to marry you because I love you, Sung. And if he did threaten to forcibly break our engagement, I would’ve fought for us.”

Jisung wanted to laugh at himself at how much he had overreacted. Overthinking was a bitch and this situation was real-life proof, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sung?”

“I would fight for us too.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt - Nie Mingjue's temper is already not great at the Phoenix hunt, so when they haul out men and women, some who look a great deal more like frightened peasants than cultivators he snaps, this is not how you treat POWs, it turns into a riot/battle and Jiang Cheng has had enough of kowtowing to the Jin and he and the new Jiang sect members and Wei Wuxian all rally to Nie Mingjue, does anyone else? Where to the Lan fall? Was nie mingjue's snap directly at jgy or more in general?

ao3

Nie Mingjue was, probably for the first time in his life, tired of fighting.

He’d fought in secret against the Wen sect for years, thanklessly defending the other sects that had refused to even acknowledge Wen Ruohan’s actions for years on end, and yet it had not prepared him for the brutality that was open warfare, for the difficulty of being the general of the entire Sunshot Campaign, for the burden of knowing that so many lives depended on him and him alone. He’d fought battle after battle, won tremendous victories, and yet the last hope had seemed out of reach – he’d eventually resorted to a desperate stratagem that had gone wrong – he had been tortured, mocked, his men killed – and at the moment of when all seemed lost, he was saved.

Saved…only to realize that it was Meng Yao being credited with it, with being their spy, and Lan Xichen had not told him.

He’d limped back to his camp, but they’d chased after him, and the news of what Meng Yao had done got out – not really a surprise; given the man’s ambitions, if someone else hadn’t spread it he would have done it himself – and in the end, politics had meant that there really hadn’t been much of a choice about swearing sworn brotherhood with the two of them, binding them together in life and death, not unless he wanted to risk another war.

Nie Mingjue very, very much did not want another war.

He had still not fully recovered from his injuries by the time the Jin sect had set up a celebration in the Nightless City, with Jin Guangshan using Nie Mingjue’s refusal to take on any of Wen Ruohan’s ridiculous trappings as an excuse to all but name himself Chief Cultivator in the man’s place. Nie Mingjue knew he should have protested then, but he was tired, his sect in need of rebuilding – they had been the ones bearing the brunt of the war, as they always had, and the only reason they were not the worst off of the Great Sects was because of what the Wens had done to the Cloud Recesses and the Lotus Pier – and he’d never really wanted personal advancement, anyway.

After what had happened with his father, he’d had a lifetime’s worth of being promoted.

Besides, as part and parcel of their self-granted promotion, the Jin sect had promised to take care of the worst of the clean-up, including dealing with the prisoners of war, and that had seemed fine, even a good result. After spending half his life doing things for other people, Nie Mingjue would return home to focus on that which matter most to him, and for once someone else would take the lead in caring for the rest of the world.

It wasn’t like the Jin sect couldn’t afford a few more mouths to feed. 

It wasn’t like their coffers were anywhere near empty, or that they needed to rebuild; it wasn’t as though they’d ever stopped trade with Qishan or actually led in a major battle or - he should stop thinking about it before he became angry. 

He’d been angry for so long. It would be nice to stop for a while.

Of course, it felt as though he’d barely settled in back at home before he was being summoned for yet another celebration hosted by the Jin sect, this time at Phoenix Mountain. A hunt, no less, and it was so pointedly designed as the sort of thing that the Nie sect favored that it would have been impossible to turn down the invitation. Not to mention, the invitation had oh-so-casually mentioned that Jin Guangyao, his sworn brother, would be the one in charge of setting up the hunt, meaning that any disruption or failure cause damage not only to his own reputation but to Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen’s, for having sworn with him.

Jin Guangshan would either have his day in the sun or a reason to tear everyone else down - a win-win situation for him, lose-lose for everyone else.

Fucking politics.

Still, there wasn’t anything for it. They had to go, so they went.

Nie Mingjue felt himself drifting back into that disconnected state that had allowed him to survive years of discussion conferences hosted by his father’s murderer. It was a strange sort of state, that allowed him to do the things he had to do to support his sect while feeling as though the world was separated from him by a window through which he watched everything happen. Anything that occurred beyond that window – all sounds and sights and even emotional reactions – was dulled or even muted; he could look Wen Ruohan right in the eye and think to himself of how much he longed to slaughter the man where he stood for his crimes, look at Jiang Fengmian smiling quite sincerely at Wen Ruohan and Lan Qiren bowing to him as if he was a man worthy of respect, as if they weren’t hypocrites that took Wen Ruohan’s money in trade and said apologetically that there wasn’t anything anyone could prove about Nie Mingjue’s father’s death, and yet, no matter how much he hated them all, his body would do nothing. 

He would drink tea, and nod, and he would not breach etiquette, he would not bring war down on his sect’s head, he would do nothing.

Sitting in a place of honor at Phoenix Mountain felt much the same: yet another burden to bear, a torment that he could only hope passed quickly.

(It wasn’t healthy, but then again, what was? His entire life was grist for the mill that was his sect’s well-being, shortened by excessive cultivation and stress and endless rage, and knowing it didn’t change anything.)

He saw in the corner of his eye the way his little brother’s eyes flickered to him and then frown – he’d never liked it when Nie Mingjue went quiet and passive, knowing how alien the feeling was to him, knowing through fellow-feeling what it felt like, though perhaps he was wondering why the state had come upon him now again when Wen Ruohan was already dead and gone, even though it had never really just been about Wen Ruohan. 

Perhaps because of that fellow-feeling, Nie Huaisang found a conversational interlude hat allowed him to slide over a little closer than politeness dictated, casually putting a hand on Nie Mingjue’s arm as if to beg for something. He knew that Nie Mingjue took comfort in the touch, in the reminder that with his saber at his side and his brother within arms’ reach, Nie Mingjue felt as thought he had everything he valued most in this rotten world close enough that he could try to protect it.

And then the Jin sect – using Jin Guangyao as their mouthpiece, though whether it was because of his skillful silver tongue or simply because they didn’t think he was worth anything more than that, only he would know – announced that they would kick off the hunt with some entertainment.

Nie Mingjue lifted his cup of tea to his lips, feeling pained, and his eyes briefly met with Lan Qiren’s across the hall, no longer in the place of the sect leader but slightly behind, his expression making clear that the same thought was on both their minds – anything but the prostitutes again.

(Surely Jin Guangyao had a bit more self-respect than that…?)

When a bunch of people in chains were marched out, Nie Mingjue had only enough presence of mind to be briefly relieved that the presence of mixed genders meant that they were probably not prostitutes – Lanling Jin abided by rules relating to birth gender and sexuality that seemed nearly as strict as the rules they were always criticizing Gusu Lan over, and according to them no one ever switched or was misaligned or deviated at all, which frankly seemed more than a little bizarre and unbelievable – and then uncomfortable because, well, they were in chains. Weren’t they supposed to be done with war?

And then Jin Guangyao started announcing the rules of some sort of ridiculous archery contest that the younger generation would engage in, and for a moment that seemed almost a relief as well – as a sect leader, Nie Mingjue was excluded from the younger generation despite being only a few years older than the rest of them, and of course there was no point in expecting his brother to participate in any competition of martial skill, and so for a moment it seemed as though this could be another part of this torturous endless experience that he could just tune out.

Indeed, that he was obligated to tune out. No matter how idiotic it was, whatever it was, whatever he thought about it (and he wouldn’t like it, he knew he wouldn’t like it, he’d never liked anything Wen Ruohan – no, that Jin Guangshan, insofar as there was that much of a difference – he’d never liked anything Jin Guangshan had set up in nearly ten years of working together, and odds were good that he wouldn’t like this), Nie Mingjue still had to think first of his sect and the consequences of making a fuss, and that meant he didn’t. He didn’t want a war, and so he had to be polite, restrained, quiet, no matter what he thought.

It wasn’t that hard to simply pull back even further. Nie Mingjue had been suppressing righteousness in favor of etiquette at these horrible conferences for such a long time that it came naturally to him, the way all bad habits did.

Only this time he’d brought Nie Huaisang with him, which he’d always resisted before, and his brother’s hand tightened on his arm to the point of pain.

Nie Mingjue’s first thought, stupidly enough, was to be pleased by the discovery that Nie Huaisang actually had some arm muscle underneath all those prissy frills he favored. His second was concern that Nie Huaisang had suddenly taken ill – with admittedly a bit of hopefulness that perhaps it would be something they could use as an excuse to leave early, as long as it wasn’t that serious – but when he turned to look at him his brother didn’t seem sick.

He seemed – angry?

Not Huaisang, Nie Mingjue thought, heart abruptly seized with an ancient fear. He knew perfectly well what he’d gotten himself into when it came to the saber spirits, had accepted years ago that he would die young, die early, die horribly and alone with nothing but his rage, but that was not going to be Nie Huaisang’s fate, not if he had anything to say about it. 

The fear curdled in his chest, and it felt as though a crack appeared on the window that shielded him from all sensation, all pain and desperation forced far away.

No one was talking, other than Jin Guangyao droning on and on about whatever the new entertainment was – Nie Mingjue had stopped paying attention long ago – and so he couldn’t ask Nie Huaisang what was wrong, but he looked at him and furrowed his brow, trying to convey the question silence.

Nie Huaisang caught the glance and understood, and his mouth moved, shaping silent sounds – it’s an execution, they’re going to kill them –

What?

Baxia, lying by his side as she always did during these meetings, shifted a little, her rage nudging against Nie Mingjue’s mind as it always did – sometimes he thought she hated these meetings as much as he did, other times he was sure of it – and the crack in the window got a little wider, let in a little more light and color and sound, and Nie Mingjue found a thread of willpower to force himself to listen to what the entertainment Jin Guangyao was proposing actually was.

He replayed the words in his mind, turned to look at the people in chains – Wen sect, apparently, and though he couldn’t tell on sight whether they were civilians or cultivators, that didn’t matter. Not even criminals were executed like this, by standing at a distance and waiting to die, not even able to hope for an expert aiming to kill quickly and cleanly, but through a misplaced arrow that could strike them anywhere, cause them a lingering and painful death…this was supposed to be a game?

This was meant to be their entertainment?

The window between Nie Mingjue and the world shattered.

And suddenly all he felt was rage.

“What,” Nie Mingjue said, even as Jin Zixuan got up with a set expression on his face to accept a bow from his servant, “are you doing?”

Jin Zixuan paused, looking puzzled – and no surprise, since Nie Mingjue hadn’t said anything beyond the most mundane greetings when he first arrived. “Sect Leader Nie..?”

Nie Mingjue rose to his feet, his brother’s hand falling off of his arm as if he’d shaken him off like a dog. “What are you doing?” he demanded, louder this time. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Da-ge –” Jin Guangyao said, an obvious hint, a reminder of their relationship – Nie Mingjue was the one bound by it, the older brother responsible for setting a good example, and for all that Jin Guangyao was supposed to listen to him and follow his lead Nie Mingjue had never seen a hint that he’d ever planned to do so – but Nie Mingjue didn’t listen to him.

He was angry.

It felt good to be angry – a clean anger, a righteous anger, anger at injustice being perpetrated right before his eyes.

(Something so poisonous as rage shouldn’t feel this good.)

“This is an abomination,” he said, a touch of the battlefield in his voice so that it would be audible throughout the hall, would spread far and wide for all to hear. “Those are people you’re putting on the line.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Jin Zixun, Jin Guangshan’s nephew, broke it with an abrupt laugh. “Sect Leader Nie,” he said, pretending to smile, “surely you don’t think so little of us to suggest that my cousin would miss –”

“I don’t care even if he does strike true,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “You do not play with the lives of men.”

“Hardly men,” a minor sect leader, closely affiliated with the Jin sect, said. Sect Leader Qin, if Nie Mingjue placed him right. “Perhaps you did not hear, Chifeng-zun –” It was always his title they used when they wanted to avoid calling him sect leader, when they were trying to make a point about how young and angry and foolish they thought he was. “– but those are Wen-dogs.”

“I don’t care who or what they are,” Nie Mingjue shouted, and now he had fallen back into his body, back into the battlefield, because this was a battlefield; it was only that he had allowed himself – through tiredness or shock or a desire for peace – to forget it for a moment. “Is this not a celebration of peace, the end of war? If they are criminals, sentence them; if they are condemned, execute them with a sword. Even a rabid beast deserves to be put down cleanly, not to be used as target practice by children for the entertainment of others!”

There was movement in the crowd, multiple people shifting from one side to the other, the audience abruptly uncomfortable when faced not only with a gory spectacle but their own complicity in it.

“Sect Leader Nie, calm yourself,” Jin Guangshan said. His voice was stern, irritatingly condescending – as if he thought that styling himself as Chief Cultivator gave him the right to act as if he were Nie Mingjue’s father. “You go too far for proper etiquette; will you not give any face to me, as your host? Naturally, if you have a complaint, I will hear it –”

“I don’t recall the moment I yielded to your authority in matters of ethics, Sect Leader Jin,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “Please, feel free to remind me – the last I recall it, you were the one begging me for assistance.”

“Sect Leader Nie!” Jin Guangshan shouted, rising to his feet with his face starting to purple.

Nie Mingjue saw the furious glance he sent at a frantic Jin Guangyao – control him already! – and it makes his own rage surge even higher. It was not that he didn’t know that his sworn brother was being used as leverage against him, but to have it shoved right into his face like that, to think that they thought that etiquette and brotherhood would be sufficient to make him complaisant – to allow Jin Guangyao to run roughshod over his morality – to think that it had nearly worked –

“Sect Leaders, please.” That was Lan Xichen, standing up as well, his hands outstretched. “Is this not meant to be a celebration of peace?”

For a moment, Nie Mingjue thought he was standing up for his sake, supporting him in decrying what was happening in front of them – something he despised as much as Nie Mingjue did, that much was obvious from his stance – but then his eyes flicked from Nie Mingjue to Jin Guangyao as well, silently beseeching Nie Mingjue to remember how his actions could hurt Jin Guangyao’s standing, and Nie Mingjue felt cold.

So much for brotherhood, it seemed. How much was he supposed to bear on behalf of Jin Guangyao without receiving anything in return?

He turned his face away.

If the Nie sect had to make this stand alone, so be it. Even if it meant war, war against the rest of the cultivation world, war that would be ruinous to his sect...

There was no choice. The Nie sect stood for refusing to tolerate evil; to do any less would be to throw off the traditions of his ancestors more wholly than Nie Huaisang’s refusal to train the saber had ever been. Even on a personal level, he had long criticized others who stood quiet when evil was happening, and he  would not let himself become the hypocrite that so many others had been. 

Nie Mingjue had never before willingly backed away from doing the right thing, the righteous thing, simply because it was hard to do – he would not start now.

“It seems strange that a celebration of peace would begin with death.” That was Jiang Cheng standing up as well, the fourth of the Great Sects. His sister had once been engaged to Jin Zixuan, and she had been invited to the hunt as Madame Jin’s special guest – popular thought had it that the Jin sect would snap her up soon enough, allying with the last remaining sect, and leaving anyone who opposed them to stand alone. But even if that was the plan, it hadn’t happened yet, and Jiang Cheng was putting his voice on Nie Mingjue’s side – Nie Mingjue would have to find a way to repay him for his support later. “Weren’t the Wen sect supposed to be resettled somewhere peaceful? Or was the news I received incorrect?”

“The innocent branch members and civilians were of course resettled,” Jin Guangyao said, and his smile was strained – or was it? Was it actual concern, or some sort of show? Nie Mingjue could never tell with him, not now that he knew how easily the snake changed its skin. “These however are war criminals, sentenced to execution in the manner of our choosing. I hope you all understand: their deaths are in no way comparable to their crimes –”

You would know, having participated in so many of them, Nie Mingjue thought, and levelled a glare at his youngest sworn brother to remind him of that fact. It briefly interrupted the smooth flow of words, making them catch in Jin Guangyao’s throat; at least he had that much shame.

“Can I see?” Nie Huaisang asked in the brief interval, his high voice just as carrying as Nie Mingjue’s shouting – all those music and singing lessons had clearly been worth something.

“See what?” Jin Zixun sneered, stepping forward – and interesting that it was him that did so, while Jin Zixuan, the heir, remained still and silent. His expression was frosty, but he hadn’t yet spoken up in his own father’s defense; hardly filial, but given such a father it was difficult to see what else he could do. “See their crimes? Do you want a list, or for us to drag out their victims to testify? Is this how little your Nie sect thinks of our Jin sect?”

A strong effort on Jin Zixun’s part – it put the burden on them to prove that these were not evildoers and criminals who deserved what was coming to them, made the issue their rudeness and lack of etiquette, made it seem as if they were the ones looking down on everyone.

But for all that Nie Mingjue despaired of Nie Huaisang’s skill at arms, he had never doubted his skill with words.

“You misunderstand me,” Nie Huaisang laughed nervously, hiding his face behind his fan in a gesture of shyness – he made it look as though he were being bullied by Jin Zixun, rather than debating him. “I just meant, well, they’re criminals, right? They must be truly impressive cultivators to fight against the brave soldiers of our Sunshot Campaign…could we see their strength?”

Nie Mingjue knew a cue when he heard one. “Such strength must be considerable to deserve such a fate,” he said scornfully. “Even Wen Ruohan, who killed hundreds, was merely cut down, rather than tormented in the same manner he tortured so many of our cultivators…Or do you think to emulate him in this manner as well?”

“How dare you?!” Jin Guangshan was florid with rage – as if rage would ever stop a Nie. “You come to my home and accuse me with no basis –”

“I do accuse you!” Nie Mingjue shouted, letting his voice trample down Jin Guangshan’s. “But by your own acts you are condemned, by your own callousness and indifference. So much Nie blood was shed to stop Wen Ruohan from running rampant over us all – I would die rather than have spent that blood to buy us nothing more than the same dominion in a different color!”

And then everyone was talking at once, shouting, yelling, and Nie Mingjue took the opportunity to turn on his heel and stride over to Lan Xichen, standing there looking lost. Lan Wangji was beside him, only a step behind, and he caught Nie Mingjue’s eyes as he came over and nodded – he, at least, was with Nie Mingjue in this, and his support gave Nie Mingjue more confidence in what he was about to do. What he had to do.

“Will you abide by your Lan sect’s values and stand with me in this?” he asked Lan Xichen in a low, clipped tone. “Or was my oath of brotherhood only worth the benefits it could get for Meng Yao?”

“Da-ge!” Lan Xichen exclaimed, looking horrified. “Don’t think that, please. Of course I stand with you in this – what they were planning for the Wen sect members goes beyond bad taste and into the horrific.”

He hadn’t meant it the way Nie Mingjue had taken it, then. It must have only been Jin Guangyao’s pleading looks that had led him to take a stand the wrong way, seeking peace and friendship over justice.

“One should not look away from righteousness simply because it would be easier,” Lan Wangji added smoothly, sounding almost as though he were agreeing with his brother and not subtly scolding him. He saluted Nie Mingjue. “You have our full support, regardless of who is on the other side.”

Nie Mingjue continued to look at Lan Xichen who hesitated – no doubt thinking of the tough position they’d just put Jin Guangyao into – but in the end he nodded.

That was fine. Okay, no, it wasn’t fine, but right now he needed Lan Xichen’s support, regardless of his level of enthusiasm; the rest could be dealt with later.

He turned again and went to Jiang Cheng – Wei Wuxian was there as well, having appeared at some point, and he was vociferously yelling at some minor sect leaders. In Nie Mingjue’s favor, at least.

“Sect Leader Nie,” Wei Wuxian said, turning to him before Nie Mingjue could say anything to Jiang Cheng – not that he really need to confirm his support, given the public display from earlier, but it was only polite to come convey his thanks. “There’s something else you should know. I’ve heard some things about the innocent members Wen sect that were supposedly ‘resettled’ – and what’s been happening to them…”

Nie Mingjue glanced at Jin Guangshan, still shouting, and did a quick calculation. “Take Lan Wangji and go check it out at once,” he ordered. “They were supposed to be resettled by the Qiongqi Path. If Sect Leader Jin has been treating these ones so cruelly as this…I’m willing to believe anything right now. But whatever it is, make sure it’s both of you that see it with your own eyes, to make it harder to doubt your words.”

Wei Wuxian saluted him and headed towards Lan Wangji without even seeking approval from his sect leader. Nie Mingjue abruptly felt awkward and looked at Jiang Cheng, but the other man nodded his agreement before he could apologize for commandeering Wei Wuxian as if the other man was still his subordinate.

“At least he listens to you,” Jiang Cheng said, a rueful smile on this face. “Can I convince you to talk some sense into him when all this is done..? I must admit I wasn’t expecting another war so soon.”

“I had hoped we wouldn’t see one for another generation,” Nie Mingjue admitted. “I still hope we can avoid it – it depends on how the smaller sects fall out, and how determined the Jin sect is to dominate the rest, rather than willing to accept equality. But no matter how it goes, we can’t turn our faces away from injustice.”

“Agreed,” Jiang Cheng said with a sigh. “I think we have the better of the argument, and hopefully it sways the rest of them. But have you considered what happens if we win?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sect Leader Jin has been setting himself up as Chief Cultivator. After something like this, even if there’s no actual fighting, that’ll be impossible. You need respect to lead. So who will it be?”

Nie Mingjue experienced a brief moment of horror at the thought of having to take it himself – but no. It was a reasonable solution, of course, but it would also taint the whole thing. It would make his decision to stand up into a tawdry political play, designed to increase his power, rather than a genuine outburst of offended principle.

He might have proposed Lan Xichen as a compromise – he would have, even a shichen earlier. But after that display of weakness from earlier, however brief, he feared that it would somehow end up with Jin Guangyao (and Jin Guangshan behind him) pulling the strings from behind the scenes, using Lan virtue as a cover for their iniquity…no, that wouldn’t do at all.

The only other option was –

Well.

Nie Mingjue had thought to himself that he needed to do something to pay Jiang Cheng back for his support earlier, hadn’t he?

(And at worst, he’d owe him yet another favor.)

Nie Mingjue put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “You have my full support,” he said solemnly, and ignored the sudden look of panic on Jiang Cheng’s face. “Think it over before you say no.”

Being Chief Cultivator would do more to restore the Jiang sect to prosperity than anything else Jiang Cheng might do, and he’d put that together himself sooner or later even if the idea of that much responsibility had to be fairly terrible. But before they could decide things like that, they needed to win.

One more fight.

He could do that much.

[ivyaugustetc]

the dead poets at hogwarts: a headcanon from hell

@aedan-mills @charlie-dalton-simp @pretentious-strikes YOU ENCOURAGED THIS BEHAVIOR SO YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES. also i love you a lot but THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT.

also @aedan-mills i found out that some of the wand stuff is related to their birthdays and i am much too lazy to look all that up and figure it all out, but anyone else is welcome to lmao. sorry to disappoint but alas it's summer and i don't want to research that much. but other than that, please listen to me flex my extensive knowledge on harry potter :)

neil (half blood): i'm sorry,,,, can you say gryffindor? this boy would get up there and in a second the sorting hat would have him all figured out: big dreams with the will to pursue them, but not ambitious enough to step over others to achieve said dreams? sounds like a gryffindor to me. i just know he'd thrive at hogwarts, probably going on to play quidditch (def a chaser) and would excel in charms class. as far as pets go, i feel like he'd stay simple and classy with a chill barn owl he'd name after a famous broadway actor. he would kind of be a mix of james and remus, in which he's wild and crazy but still manages to get good grades. the teachers love him simply because they don't know much about him outside of class. he would absolutely LOVE going to hogsmeade and going batshit crazy at zonko's and honeydukes. he'd have a whole phase where he gets addicted to licorice wands and everyone else thinks they're disgusting but he simply cannot buy enough of them. he'd play a bunch of zonko tricks on the rest of the poets, saving the most harsh for charlie and the most wholesome for todd <3

todd (muggle born): ugh see i can see him being both a hufflepuff and a ravenclaw, but my heart says hufflepuff so i'm gonna go with that. he would absolutely HATE the sorting ceremony with a burning passion. getting up in front of everybody only to have a hat judge u??? no thanks. HAHAHA CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM ON A BROOM. i can't either because he would simply never get on one, probably referring to them as "flying death traps" more often than not. "hey todd, you think about joining quidditch?" "no thanks, i'd rather keep my limbs intact ;)". but he would love muggle studies a lot, even if the teacher was boring as hell. snape would scare the hell out of him for sure, resulting in his lowest class being potions. he would excel in classes that are more learning out of the book rather than in practice. for a pet, he'd want something that could not possibly turn on him and would just be sweet and loving, so ima give him a toad :) he'd name it something fancy and british, like nigel or sumn. and because of nigel, he'd love chocolate frogs because hey they're twins!!

fanon knox (pure blood): hogwarts fuck boy. okay well maybe not f boy but like...his favorite part is the fact that this is a co-ed school rather than an all-boys school so he can spy on both genders equally yknow. hmm i get hufflepuff vibes from him because he's a big romantic, sucker for cute relationships, etc. he would enjoy whichever class his current crush is in, although I feel like he'd do well with classes that involved spells and wand work mostly lmao. he'd want a really fucking cute pet, so i'd give him a kneazle (it's like a cat but a bit more lion like). he'd give it a strong sounding name, something german idk. but he'd love the shit out of that kneazle, i can tell you that much. i feel like he'd try out for quidditch his first few years, not make it on, and then make it on to the team around fourth year and somehow end up team captain in seventh (and that proves kids, that you too can have a redemption arc in sports). as far as candy goes, ima say he likes the super sour candy like acid pops n shit. like i feel like the others would dare him to each as much sour candy as he can and then he wouldn't be able to taste for a week. but he'd think it was worth it :)

cameron (muggle born): good god this boy just wants to learn. magic just fascinates him, what with growing up in a big muggle family (bestie he is the weasleys if they were all type a). he's a ravenclaw, no questions asked. he would love classes involving preciseness and attention, things like potions and transfiguration. i feel like he'd have a cute, stable relationship along the way ofc because he deserves so much love and happiness and UGH he's a baby. he'd stick with a lil ginger cat, naming it after one of the famous wizards he's read about. he would love spending christmas at the school and going places when the ground are nearly empty, enjoying the scenery. for candy, he'd go plain and simple with chocolate frogs. can't go wrong with those. he'd still have fun with his friends, but he'd skip a lot of parties for some studying (don't judge, i do it too lmao). would not play quidditch but would enjoy it, end of story.

charlie (pure blood): slytherin. don't dispute it. think the weasley twins but even more flirtatious. he would be a regular at every single party that happened, flirting with the guys and gals shamelessly and drinking butterbeer like it was water. look me in the eye and tell me he would not absolutely fucking HATE GILDEROY LOCKHART WITH EVER FIBER OF HIS BEING. he'd do spot-on impersonations of him though. teacher's worst enemy. like when he walks into class on the first day, every teacher collectively mutters "bloody hell not this kid again". asks the most incredibly stupid questions ("okay but is there a spell to turn my eyebrows green? just the eyebrows though, not my hair"). he would be the most aggressive beater on the slytherin team, though he would never deliberately try to hit someone, just distract the shit out of them ("put the fear of god in them and fate will do the rest"). he'd want a loud, aggressive pet but he'd probably end up with a mean cat that hisses at everyone. he'd give it the most adorable name that just. does not fit the personality. something like priscilla. for candy, he'd take his chance with bertie botts' every flavour beans and just roll with the punches. he's chaotic like that.

pitts (half blood): ASTRONOMY IS HIS JAM. he fucking loves that class. he tutors the entire ravenclaw house in that class. he's the guy that little first years who are terrified of the class go to when they're completely lost and don't understand what's going on. besides that, i feel like he'd just be everyone's cool older brother yknow? like he'd be in charge of helping all the first years figure out where stuff is and giving them advice to help them and stuff. he would be a die-hard quidditch fan although he would not play the sport (maybe recreationally on the weekends and holidays and stuff, but the fact that it's so fucking dangerous just does not appeal to him). he'd like the candy that does tricks and stuff, like fizzing whizbees and stuff. he gives me charlie weasley vibes, where he's hardcore in certain areas (in his case, astronomy) and just flipping chill in anything else. cool older brother vibes, man. it fits.

meeks (half blood): i've said it once and i'll say it again: nonproblematic ginger dumbledore. also a hufflepuff <3 this dude just wants to fucking coast along, getting good grades and not participating in the dumb shit that could probably get him killed (even though he would in a heartbeat if his friends were in danger. duh). he'd be a teacher's favorite, probably having conversations with his favorite teachers during free time. okay ik this isn't technically at school, but i swear to god he would be dumbledore one day. like he would be the chill ass headmaster who gets shit done while also being very la di da life is nice flowers are pretty type of person. that being said, his favorite candy is and has been lemon drops ever since dumbledore got him addicted to them. his favorite classes would be potions (he'd surprisingly get along well with snape) and he'd just be great and mixing shit right and just knowing how much of stuff to add in ("how much powdered root do i add?" "about three and a half shakes." "that's not a measurement, meeks." "*shrug* it works"). he'd stick with his small friend group and love them to death, but he'd be a friend to all really. he'll help anyone that comes to him asking for help with homework (and though he won't admit it, he gets super prideful when it's someone a few years ahead of him).

stick (muggle born): harry potter if harry potter could've been more harry potter. like he would just be a part of everything and end up being part of some prophecy that demands he'd save the world and at first he'd be like HEY i'm just a small boy but then he'd grit his teeth and finesse the shit out of this preventing the end of days stuff. he'd definitely be a gryffindor, and fucking proud of it. he'd be the seeker on the quidditch team because he is so short and small and yeah he'd fucking kill it there. he'd kind of be the shy one no one expected much from, but once he starts absolutely wrecking the shit out of the other houses' quidditch teams, he'd become sorta popular? like people would invite him to parties and stuff and he's too nice to say no, but he'd mostly just hang around the outskirts, saying hi to the other poets if he saw them and mostly talking to chris and ginny (danburry, not weasley). he'd like defense against the dark arts and minerva mcgongiall would become his literal mother i can't explain it. he'd have an owl as a pet and treat it like it was his own child, telling it thank you every time it brought his mail or took his mail. as for candy, he'd like drooble's bubble gum because the bubbles are all magic and shit and i just feel like that would make him so happy <3

chris (pure blood): the older sister lesbian <3 she'd be a sweet hufflepuff who would be friends with everyone while also being the greatest socialite the school has ever seen. you know that party that practically the entire school attended and talked about for months on end? she planned that shit. she'd be like pitts in the respect that she'd help all the first years find their way in the school and in life in general. she's just such a warm and kind person that everyone would love her. she's have a little pink pygmy puff to match ginny's purple one, and she'd give it such a perfect, human name like lila or something. she'd be great at muggle studies and all the teachers would love her. also every one is so invested in her relationship with ginny it's adorable. he favorite candy is acid pops even though they make her eyes water like crazy. she'd make pretty good grades, every once in a while getting one slightly lower than she'd expected, but she always manages to bring them up to her satisfactory level :) she would not play quidditch, but she would go all out to support ginny, even though they're in different houses. that's what i call love, baby.

ginny (half blood): the mom lesbian <3 she's a ravenclaw and also one of the sweetest people in the whole school. while chris helps other with the social aspect, ginny will help anyone in any subject they need help with (she and meeks are a help duo on this). she's quieter and less social than chris, but she's one of the best chasers the ravenclaw quidditch team has ever seen. she'd end up team captain by fifth of sixth year. she'd be like oliver wood in that she is sO invested in the team's success that at sometimes she'll go a bit crazy, but chris is always there to help her put things back into perspective <3. she'd make stellar grades of course, being good friends with all of her teachers. her favorite candy would be the sweetest things like fairy floss. as previously stated, she'd have a purple pygmy puff to match chris's pink one, and she'd also give it an adorable human name like lisa or something. ginny's just sweet to everyone, especially neil and his friends.

I DID IT. IT TOOK FOREVER AND A FEW HAIL MARYS BUT I DID IT. enjoy besties <3 love u all

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

Obey Me: The Brothers Accidentally Trigger an Abused MC (Beelzebub) (6/7)

Disclaimer: I’m not an expert on abuse or mental health. I’m not portraying how one should respond to these situations, only how I think the characters might. Abuse and trauma in particular are very complex topics, and people respond in all sorts of ways to them, and sometimes it gets really bad on all sides.

I can only draw from my personal experiences as well as those of people who have shared their stories or who I’m close with. There’s no one narrative of abuse and how it affects someone, so what I’m familiar with might not be what you’re familiar with. Let’s try and all be respectful of each other.

Content Warnings: Heated arguments, reference to past abuse, parental abuse, trauma response, breaking down in tears, this is quintessential hurt/comfort y’all, buckle up

Kinda cheating for the twins unfortunately! (In the sense that I’m gonna rely heavily on canon events) In Beel’s case it’s because we’ve only ever seen him lose his cool about either food or family, and for Belphie, well… you’ll see.

Gaaaah tumblr’s stupid new thing where if you resize the tab it wipes your post and switches between mobile and desktop versions made this SUCH a bitch to edit, but here it is! Once again, thank you all so much for your patience! I’ve learned not to make promises about when the next part will come out, but we’re almost done! It’s just Belphie left, then I get to the other requests!

To clarify, the initial dialogue in this scene is not mine, but comes from Lesson 4 of the game and is based on events from Lessons 4 and 5. 

Lucifer (X) Mammon (X), Leviathan (X), Satan (X), Asmodeus (X), Beelzebub (you are here), Belphegor (X)

“Now what do we have here?” Mammon soliloquises. “Looks like a custard.” 

MC has absolutely no idea what possessed them into letting him drag them to the kitchen. 

“Mammon, are you sure we should-”

“Here, eat this,” he cuts MC off, handing them a cup of custard. “I need an accomplice. I don’t wanna be the only one in trouble.”

“In trouble?!” They look down at the custard lid. A note is firmly taped to it.

Property of Beelzebub. You eat it, you die.

They gulp. They really shouldn’t be touching this, what if…

“You’ve gotta be seriously brave to eat this custard here.” Mammon snatches the dessert back and waves it around. “If you can do that, I’ll admit that you’ve got guts.” 

I won’t have any guts if Beelzebub finds out, MC thinks. They know the consequences for stealing food. I don’t care if you haven’t eaten all day, you DO NOT touch that fridge, understand?

“So you’re gonna do it, right? What am I sayin’? Do it. That’s an order.”

Then again, they don’t know what Mammon’s capable of either.

Go on, do it. You want to waste food so bad? Go in the trash and fish it out like the animal you are!

“...Okay, I’ll eat it...” 

“There we go.” Mammon’s grin is wolfish as he holds out a spoon for them.

It tastes… oh wow. It’s very good custard. They almost want to go back for another-

“You did it!” Mammon shouts, and MC flinches so hard they nearly drop the container. “You totally ate Beel’s custard! I saw ya!”

Now you’ve done it, MC! You know how mad our parents are gonna be when they get back!

I… I had to… I didn’t want to… But it had been days...

“Shhh-!”

“Great, now I’ve got an accomplice. If you ate his stuff too, that means we’re in this boat together!” He returns his attention to the fridge. “So, my turn. Let’s see if I can find anything else good in here. I’ve got a feeling there’s probably something nice hiding back here in this corner-”

A shadow looms over the pair. MC’s blood goes cold. They’ve been caught again.

“D’AH! Beel!” Mammon squeaks. “Wh-What’s the big idea sneakin’ up on me like that? How long have you been there…?”

“Did you eat my custard?” Oh no no no no no. “Did you actually eat my CUSTARD?! Answer me, Mammon!”

Who ate it? Well? Answer me! Or none of you are eating tonight.

“N-Now wait a second, Beel! Lemme explain! There’s a good reason for-”

“You did, didn’t you…?”

Pink flames envelop the Avatar of Gluttony as part of his human illusion falls away. An intimidating pair of sharp horns curl around his head and massive fly’s wings buzz angrily on his back. 

“You… ate… my… CUSTARD!”

“Uh-oh!”

As Mammon attempts to escape Beelzebub’s wrath, all MC can do is remain perfectly still, the custard container clutched tightly to their chest. They’ve. Been. Caught.

It’s ridiculous. A small, hysterical part of MC laughs at the absurdity of being caught between two of the most powerful demons in Hell, squabbling over custard and chasing each other around the kitchen. A choked noise escapes them instead. The custard turns sickeningly sweet in their mouth.

The paralysis is broken when Mammon goes sailing through the kitchen wall. Is that-?

A hole in their wall, just above their head. Screaming voices, crying, begging, accusing. They’ve been caught, and now they will be punished.

Footsteps approach MC, and a figure stands towering over them, so much taller, he wouldn’t even have to lay a hand on them for them to be scared, but he will, he will, he’ll hit them again, again and again and again and-

“MC-”

“PLEASE DON’T HIT ME!” They hold up the custard towards Beelzebub, their limbs confused between the desire to return the offending dessert and protect their face. 

The Avatar of Gluttony is almost offended by the outburst, until he hears Mammon groan and attempt to get up, shifting some of the rubble before collapsing once again. Okay, maybe he doesn’t have room to be offended right now. 

He plucks the container from MC’s vice-like grip, the difference in strength between the two so great that he doesn’t feel their resistance. Oh, it’s almost completely untouched. Maybe he overreacted… Then again, it is Mammon. 

...It’s MC’s room that connects to that wall, isn’t it?

Beelzebub opens his mouth to apologize to MC about their wall, to assure them that they’ll figure out a place for them to sleep until it’s repaired, but they’re already gone, sprinting off further into the House of Lamentation.

Did he scare them that bad…?

~

After the three hours of lecturing that ensued, MC isn’t sure if notifying Lucifer was, in fact, the best idea. While Mammon and Beelzebub had seemed bored, annoyed even, they were barely able to stay on their feet by the end of it. Perhaps they’re still exhausted from their sprint to Lucifer’s study, as well as… other factors.

Lucifer calls their name sternly, as though he has done so several times already. They start and straighten up, but can’t bring themself to quite meet the demon’s eyes.

“I asked you a question.” 

“Oh…” they say. “...Sorry...I didn’t-”

“Are you sure you’re comfortable staying in Beelzebub’s room?” They don’t reply, and something in Lucifer’s expression softens. “You were quite distressed when you came to me. If my brothers have done something to upset you, I need to know. Your wellbeing is a crucial part of the exchange program.”

MC laughs humorlessly. “You mean other than destroying my room, I’m guessing.”

The Avatar of Pride falters almost imperceptibly, disguising his surprise with a cough. “Yes, other than… the collateral damage.”

“...Yeah,” they eventually say. “Uh, yes, I’ll stay with Beel until my room is fixed. It’s fine.”

“Wonderful. You’re free to go.” He promptly leaves, muttering about calling the construction worker so soon after the last time. 

While MC has a feeling that Beel would be completely fine not addressing the Custard Incident so long as they don’t treat him any differently, they feel the need to explain themself for both their sakes. They tell Beelzebub about their upbringing, about how controlling their parents were when it came to food, and how they’d have to sneak meals more often than not. The punishments they faced when caught doing this.

Beel is horrified and feels incredibly guilty upon finding out what he inadvertently forced MC to relive. He once again assures them that he knew it was Mammon who talked them into eating his custard and that he doesn’t really hold it against them. In fact, from then on, the Avatar of Gluttony invites them on his frequent “snack runs” (which, for Beel, consist of an amount of food MC would normally call a family meal) and personally makes sure they’re eating enough regularly. 

One day, MC comes back from a long afternoon studying at RAD and nearly panics all over again at the sight of the kitchen. Saucepans, bowls, half-empty containers, and all sorts of utensils litter the room, not to mention a healthy coating of sweet-smelling fluids. At the centre of this mess is none other than Beel, who smiles and waves upon noticing them, sending more flecks of custard to the floor.

He hands them a container of custard, complete with a lining of various fruits around the edges. On its lid is a note: Property of MC. 

It’s very good custard.

“...I…” They can’t. Not if that will happen again. They shake their head, the tears threatening to return.

Lucifer holds back a sigh and nods. “Very well. We’ll find other accommodations until your room is repaired. Perhaps Mammon will get his wish after all…”

Beel doesn’t understand why the human is avoiding him. At first he thought they were still mad about the whole going-on-a-rampage-and-destroying-their-room thing, but they’ve since forgiven Mammon for causing that, so that can’t be it. He keeps returning to the thought that it was something about him, that he scared them so bad they don’t feel safe being around him. Did they think he would try and eat them?

That’s not entirely unfair, he thinks. Especially considering they’re a human in a house with a bunch of demons.

But they aren’t scared around anyone else. Not Satan’s propensity for fatal grudges, not Mammon’s recklessness, not Lucifer’s intimidating presence, not Asmo or Levi’s volatile mood swings… It was just him.

Because he’s just a useless glutton.

[breckstonevailskier]

Daniel LaRusso's experiences with Terry Silver and how they affect him in Cobra Kai

One thing that is often overlooked in Cobra Kai, because the show fixates so much on the events of the first Karate Kid movie, is how much Daniel LaRusso's behavior is influenced by his time with Terry Silver in The Karate Kid Part III.

Season 1:

Daniel's handling of Kyler: Kyler is actually a lot like Terry Silver. He was going out with Sam, putting on the act of a nice guy to get her to go out with him. In reality, Kyler is a bully towards Miguel and his friends, and is only interested in Sam because he wants to get in her pants. Kyler puts on this nice guy act while having dinner with the LaRussos, and manages to fool both Daniel and Amanda. Then he lies about Johnny attacking him in defense of Miguel, prompting Daniel to confront Johnny. Daniel goes to Johnny, finds out the truth, and immediately does a 180 about Sam going out with Kyler.

Considering their history, Daniel has no reason to believe Johnny instead of Kyler. For all someone in Daniel's shoes ought to know, Johnny could be lying through his teeth (as Amanda points out). But because Daniel's been told that this nice guy might be anything but, he now has to question if Kyler really likes Sam or he has ulterior motives...because again, Silver approached Daniel pretending to have good intentions for him. Amanda at one point in episode 3 tries to assure Daniel that Sam will be fine with Kyler at the Halloween dance because Kyler seemed harmless to her. Daniel says, “Yeah, I’ve known plenty of guys who seemed harmless that were real pieces of crap behind the scenes." He's talking about Silver.

That's why Daniel insists on chaperoning at the Halloween dance: it's to keep an eye on Kyler if he does anything sketchy. Sure enough, he sees Kyler take Sam into an empty classroom and try to get her to take off his belt, and this is when Daniel intervenes and pulls Sam out of there. A good thing, because Kyler was going to date rape Sam (this is made clear in their next scene. Before they beat up Miguel, Brucks tells Kyler that "you had [Sam] in the palm of your dick" and talk about how the bracelet trick worked on another girl at a different school, showing Sam is not the first person Kyler has done this to).

Sam's attitudes towards her boyfriends: A related consequence to this is that after Sam finds out that Kyler is a jackass (between seeing him bully Miguel and his friends in the library, and him trying to date rape her), she is much more guarded and reserved when it comes to meeting new people. This is probably a good thing because it prevents her from getting burned like Daniel did by Terry Silver. This is the reason why she's so hesitant to enter a relationship with Miguel, and is quick to dump Miguel when the Cobra Kai teachings get to Miguel's head and he turns into an asshole, then goes back to him once those asshole tendencies disappear. And while never said out loud, this also contributes to her relationship with Robby falling apart, for while Robby treats her well, he withholds from her the fact Miguel returned Miyagi's Medal of Honor so he can keep Sam for himself (because he knows full well Sam would have second thoughts about being in a relationship with him once she had proof that Miguel wasn't a bully like his fellow Cobra Kai peers).

Johnny's speech to appeal Cobra Kai's ban: Daniel has a very bad reaction when Johnny makes his speech to appeal Cobra Kai's ban from the All-Valley, in which Johnny claims Kreese is dead and his Cobra Kai is different, a place for bullied kids to seek refuge. Thing is, Daniel clearly isn't convinced of any of Johnny's words, because these are almost the exact same words that Silver said to Daniel. Silver approached Daniel claiming that Kreese had died, and at the All-Valley gave a speech proclaiming that his chain of Cobra Kais would be a place for kids to practice the values he [Silver] learned, a speech that Silver wasn't sincere about.

Daniel's reaction to learning Robby is Johnny's son: Daniel's reaction to finding out Robby is Johnny's son is an angry, “You lied to me! Was this all just a con? Some kind of sick mind game you tried to pull off on me?!” It's very telling what Daniel's word choice is, because Terry Silver played a long mind game on Daniel, pretending to be his friend while actively sabotaging him so he'd take a humiliating loss to Mike Barnes in the All-Valley tournament. And when coupled with the fact that Daniel was drunk and had just been attacked by Johnny in his own home after just inviting Johnny in for a friendly fight, his anger is more understandable.

People calling Daniel "Danny Boy": Any time someone calls Daniel "Danny Boy," whether that be Kreese or Tom Cole, Daniel's composure briefly falters, because that's what Silver called him. In fact, Kreese has to know this, since he was there for when Silver revealed his true colors to Daniel.

Season 2:

Daniel's reaction to finding out Kreese has returned: Daniel goes to Johnny intending to inform him about Robby's living situation (in light of Shannon leaving for Cabo)...but immediately decides against it when he sees Johnny with Kreese. Johnny claims to Daniel that Kreese is a changed man...and Daniel warns him not to trust Kreese. Kreese was complicit in everything Silver did to Daniel in 1985 to get revenge for him, so Daniel has every reason to believe Kreese is up to his old tricks again so he can worm his way back into Cobra Kai.

Indeed, Daniel is right: Kreese gains Johnny's trust by claiming to be atoning for what happened in 1984 (by fixing Johnny's second place trophy, and lets Johnny see him as down-on-his-luck so Johnny will take pity on him). It's all a calculated act to undermine Johnny's authority in Cobra Kai and steal the dojo away from him.

Daniel even calls out Johnny for not listening to him when they're arguing in 3x08 while waiting for Robby to get out of juvie. He says, "What did you think would happen when you summoned that devil back to Earth?"

Season 3:

Catching Sam and Miguel together: When Daniel catches Miguel and Sam making out at Miyagi-Do, Sam says to him, "I know it's been a lot. But can you please try to remember that I'm still your daughter, and that you can trust me?" and Daniel replies, "It's not you I don't trust, Sam." Having prior experiences with people who claimed to have changed but didn't (Silver and Kreese) is the reason why learning "Miguel's changed. He's a good person. He's not Cobra Kai's number one bully; he's not even in Cobra Kai anymore!" is a pretty hard pill for Daniel to swallow because any impressions Daniel has had of Miguel up to this point are not very good.

Daniel's impressions of Miguel up to this point are as follows: Johnny had Miguel use Daniel's signature Crane Kick to open the tournament as a way of mocking Daniel, then Miguel fought dirty against Robby. This is combined with whatever Sam said to Daniel about her breakup with Miguel, which probably was that he was an asshole. So seeing Miguel's speech at the town hall to save the All-Valley, and finding him making out with Sam, Daniel is on guard because while Sam has had plenty of positive interactions with Miguel since bumping into him at school, Daniel only has the filter of whatever Sam told him about Miguel to go off of.

Seeing Robby being trained by Kreese: Daniel's reaction to seeing Robby training with Kreese seems very telling. If Daniel is Mr. Miyagi, then Robby is 1985 Daniel, and Kreese is 1985 Silver. Daniel realizes Kreese is going to do with Robby exactly what he and Silver failed to do with Daniel 33 years ago. He'll certainly see the cycle repeating even further when he finds Silver has been summoned back to town by Kreese.

And I would bet he'll possibly realize in season 4 that Johnny's neglect of Robby throughout season 3 left Robby open to manipulation from Kreese, much like Mr. Miyagi's neglect of Daniel in 1985 left him open to manipulation from Silver.

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Better King (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki succeeded. The Avengers, including his brother, were defeated. The Chitauri army removed any threat to his rule. The Tesseract has been delivered as promised. The God of Mischief and Chaos is now the king of Midgard with you as his queen. But what happens when Thanos decides to pay a visit?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 981

Warnings/Disclaimers: Lots of angst with a dabble of fluff at the end.

A/N: I left the pairing above as just reader with no gender qualifiers. The only descriptors that lean towards female are “bride” and “queen” but I feel like those terms don’t have to be gender specific, at least not nowadays. There are no other descriptors here to denote sex or gender.

The trickster sat crumpled on his throne, head in his hand, a shell of the god he once was. You, his queen, stood beside him, staring at the empty doorway Thanos had left through not twenty minutes before.

Your husband’s change in conduct was absolutely baffling. Gone was the confident arrogance he exuded when attacking New York, the same trait he displayed when seeking you out to claim his bride. Now he silently sulked, seemingly at a loss of what to do. After what felt like ages, a muffled murmur escaped the fallen god.

“My king?” You quiet voice echoed through the throne room with a concert hall quality.

A sharp intake of air and he pulled back from the veil that was his hand. Leaning back on his throne, he cleared his throat. “You need not stay, if you wish.”

Wait... What?

As though reading your mind, he continued. “You do not need to be by my side. If you desire, return to your family. I will grant you safe passage.”

He was giving you an out. Why now? Why after three months of marriage would he do this now?

His regretful green eyes were glued to the floor as though he were counting the threads on the rug before him.

“I- I don’t-”

Wait. Green?

Your gaze bored into him. Yes, his eyes were a malachite green. But that wasn’t right...

The day you met him in person, the day this mischievous man came to the refugee camp in upstate New York for denizens of the city, his eyes were like sapphires, the color matching his icy demeanor. You were fairly certain his eyes had still been blue when he had guided you from your shared chambers this morning. When did the shift happen?

“The decision is yours to make. I will not hold it against you,” he breathed, picking at his cuticles.

That was new, too. You had never seen him fidget before. Then again, he almost always had that scepter in his grasp.

And then it clicked. Thanos.

When Loki had risen to greet the purple titan, meeting him halfway across the room, he relinquished the glowing, golden tool he had used on occasion to make others compliant. Thanos took it almost graciously before turning it on Loki. A bright light emanated from the tip as it touched the god’s chest. He stood motionless for a moment before falling to his knees with his hands coming to the floor for support after Thanos waltz out of the room.

Loki had been under the same spell as his victims. Now that curse was broken, leaving him to wallow in the consequences of the atrocities he had committed. As his wife and queen, you should have gone to him, consoled him. But as a victim of the attack, you had chosen to remain silent by the throne, waiting for him to pick himself up and face you.

Rounding his guilded seat, you stood before him, body rippling with defiance. “No.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead as his head jerked upwards to stare at you. “This is unnecessary. I can nullify our marriage, and you can return to your life. You do not have to shackle yourself to a monster.”

“Loki,” you began to his surprise. You rarely called him by name, mostly by various titles. “Our marriage may have seemed forced, but I still had a choice to make. I could have refused and invited death early. Yet, I came along without a fuss. Why do you think I did that?”

His head titled questioningly for you to continue.

“One, I wanted to ensure the safety of the people I was with. Two, I had hoped that by joining you willingly, I would be able to persuade you into doing right by this world. Admittedly, part of it was out of spite. The possibility of undermining your rule to help humanity was tempting. Because of the New York attack, both my family and home are gone. I should hate you. I should despise you for all of this. But... After today... I don’t think I can.”

You sucked in a deep breath and forged on. “In the time I’ve spent with you, not once have you tried to hurt or force yourself on me. You’ve treated your guests cordially and listened to their requests. You’re not what I expected.

“And right now, this world is in shambles. It needs stability. Should you continue forward and accept responsibility for the planet you’ve claimed, you will need all the help you can get.”

Hanging his head low, a sad chuckle rumbled through his chest. Loki tentatively reached for your hands, his digits cold and clammy. “When I witnessed you wrench weapons off dead Chitauri, using them to protect and lead other Midgardians away from the battle, you proved a natural leader. Strong and clear-headed in a crisis without losing sight of what matters most. You are truly a perfect queen, and you deserve a better king.”

He toyed with your fingers loosely, ready to pull away. Before he could, you sunk down on your knees and gripped his hands firmly.

“Guess you have some work to do,” a ghost of a smile graced your lips.

“I suppose I do,” he snickered, but his insecurities shuffled their way back to the surface. “Do you genuinely intend to stay?”

“For as long as you will have me, my king.”

Loki rose to his feet, bringing you to stand with him. Your eyes held nothing but the sincere truth. He never wanted to be a tyrant. He wanted to be a king, maybe even a good king, and he would try for the one person willing to give him a chance.

Leaning forward, he rested his head against yours. His lips brushed against your hairline as he murmured, “Thank you, my queen.”

[lunaekalenda]

heyy congrats on 500! 👄💰🥲 or 💖 (i can’t choose but maybe a mix of both?) with eren plz:)

obv! thank you so much for participating and i hope you like it! <3

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enemies to lovers + mafia au + romantic tragicomedia feat. Eren Jaeger

introduced original characters, mentions of blood.

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Eren Jaeger. The actual and young head of the Jaeger family. He wasn’t an easy prey, his family was one of the most important ones in this city. He moves a huge amount of money every day, heir of all the things his parents made on the past.

Unlucky him they have hired you. 

You’re the secret weapon of the Müller family. The child they trained since little to seduce and play with other’s minds to know all of them. You only need to get closer to him and discover all the Jaeger secrets. With which families are they allied. How many money do they count. How many of them are now.

If they hired an Ackerman to kill the clan that contracted you.

The Ackermans are also a really well known clan, famous for being silent and skilled assassins. Specially two of them. Levi Ackerman. The man who built again the reputation of his family. Mikasa Ackerman. The girl who protects Eren Jaeger, because the Ackerman clan knows how many benefits they can get just from protecting the young man. Your instructions are easy, but you know the plan isn’t it. Entering the Jaeger mansion is really complicated: there are guards everywhere. Eren rarely goes out of the mansion, so it’s almost impossible to make it like a casual encounter, the typical encounter between two people that ends with a coffee. You have to enter like every single soul that had meet Eren before: trough money, contracts and secrets. It’s the only way to treat directly with him. Negotiations. Dirty treats.

"I have information about the Müllers."

That false information is the key to your reunion with Eren. You're dressed for the occasion, really well-dressed. The man in front of you talks to a brown-haired girl, and she leaves, going to tell the info to a person who you suppose it's Eren. He listens the orders once she comes back and you look around, analyzing. There are big paintings on the walls, most of them from really famous painters. The corridor you're waiting in is decorated with huge glass lamps that make all the little cristal drops shine in all directions. You don't know who those two are. The tallest one, who has an undercut, nods to the other.

"You can pass." he says. "But he will make you a control. Please, take out your jacket and all the things we can easily found and claim as suspicious, such as..."

"I know, I know. Knifes, guns or another harmful things. I’m empty.” You put your bag in the tallest’s hands. He revises it while the other touches your body superficially, trying to find any hint of a weapon. The little stylet you have on your boot its cold against your leg, and it could hurt you with any abrupt movement. The boy with the bag gives it back to you. The other releases you arms. 

“Take the stairs and wait on the corridor of the second plant. Someone will call you to talk with him.” You nod quietly and make your way to the stairs. Quickly, a blonde boy appears, opening the door from Eren’s office.

“Come in. Boss waits for you.”

You enter before the blonde man, who closes the door fast, almost getting your leg with it. The movement made the stylet cut a little wound on your leg. You walk cautiously, trying not to get the stylet too close to your skin. The fact that you’re wearing the stylet without case is simple: Is a punishment. You had orders to kill someone on your last mission and doubted, so now they want the stylet to cut you, trying to make you regret the failed assassination. But you’ve learned, and you have strict orders to kill Eren Jaeger if he knows too much. The light of the room surprises you, the curtains moving quietly because of the wind that enters from the open window behind the desk, where a tall figure is sitting.

Even when you’ve seen Eren Jaeger before, on pictures the Müllers shown you, you never thought he’ll be so imposing. His dark hair is tied on a messy bun on the back part of his head, and he’s wearing a white shirt he has unbuttoned until the middle. His green eyes look tired, a little shadow under them. He takes his gaze far from the documents and tilts his head a little to thank the blonde boy, that does the same and disappears. He invites you to sit, moving his eyes from your body to the chair in front of him. You sit, your bag on your knees. Eren seems young, maybe he’s on his early twenties. His sharp jaw tenses when he sees you eyes looking the documents with curiosity. You got to read the title of some of them: they are hiring contracts with Ackermans and some transactions about enterprises being bought by the Jaegers.

During your training, they taught you how to read upside down, really fast. That’s because once you arrive on someone’s office to get info, the papers will be facing them. A normal person would take their time to read, making obvious they’re trying to get something. You can read them fast.

“If you’re here to try to get some information.” His voice sounds bored, maybe too tired, as if he doesn’t enjoy the fact that his family is one of the most important ones. Maybe he doesn’t like this? “You’re going to go back with empty hands”

It’s not time to feel compassion. You’re hired. You have a work. 

“I’m here to give information to you, not to steal it from you.” You talk. You know how to modulate your voice, try to make him think you’re nervous for being there, as if you fear for your life just for opening your mouth. Eren raises an eyebrow, as if he was inviting you to talk. “The Müllers.” Now, it’s time to make a credible story to make Eren feel curiosity. To make him want to know more. He’ll protect anything that would help him to destroy the Müllers, so he’ll probably protect you once he believes you can get information for him. You can make him hire you. Eren leans back on his chair.

“I’m listening.”

“They lost their protection. A bad made pact or something like that.” you don’t want to be really specific, that would just uncover your lie. “The clan that worked for them left because of a better work offer.” This wasn’t a lie after all. The Müller did lost their protection, but they quickly found another one, keeping that pact in secret for everyone. Eren looks to his fingers on the table, his head resting on his free hand. He nods quietly.

“You know this pacts from inside, don’t you?” his question, made with the same deep and tired voice, caught you by surprise. He sighs. “You entered and looked directly to my desk. This could be an unfortunate coincidence, you entered and felt curiosity about the papers, that’s just an human feeling. A normal person that enters my office looks down at the papers and then leaves them be, they’re upside down for them. You read them, quite fast i could say.” He takes the papers. “How many of them were you able to read?” You stay silent. He smirks. “Also, isn’t your leg hurt?” he asks. It’s impossible he knows you’re carrying a weapon with you. “I saw you had trouble landing that foot correctly when you walked in.” 

“Just a bad landing,” You answer. He nods, slowly. He knows something.

“How much do you gain with this mission?” he asks. His green tired eyes are looking directly to you. 

“Wh-what mission?” you ask, trying to act innocent. A sarcastic laugh leaves his lips.

“Stop fucking acting.” he takes out some papers. “Y/N, do you recognize this paper?” he gives it to you. 

“My contract?” You think for yourself. There it is: your name, surname, a photo, quantity you gain with this and your signature. 

“I should say, if this is permitted, that you’re much prettier now that in that pic.” He says, calmly. His smirk hasn’t disappeared. “I’ll give you a counteroffer.” He says. “I’m tired of playing hide and seek with all those bastards.” He knows too much. He discovered your plans.

You’re fast when you take the stylet out of your boot, your blood dripping from the file, getting up and leaning on the table to stab him. You’re fast moving it to his neck, but he’s faster. His hand gets your wrist, stronger than you think, making you unable to move it, and he takes the stylet out of your immobilized hand. He looks at it, with your wrist caged on his hand. You can’t sit, he’s pulling you to stay in that position - legs half flexed, the elbow against the table, his green eyes really close to yours.- It’s uncomfortable. 

“You took a risk, didn’t you, hm?” he asks. His voice is now lower. He stopped your stab. The price you pay for a bad executed assassination is death. 

They are going to kill you.

If Eren doesn’t kill you first. Tears start to run from your eyes. You don’t wanna cry, and less in front of him, but the thought of the consequences once you get home again scare you so much. Eren hisses. 

“The cute assassin is crying?” he jokes, his free hand getting some tears from your face. He doesn’t let your wrist. “I’ve heard the Müller are a really moral-questionable family, aren’t they?” he says. He knows about the consequences. “Once more, I have a counteroffer for you.” he leaves your wrist. You sit again, the skin where he grabbed you starting to change from red to a painful purple. He looks at it. “Sorry, used too much strength.” He takes out an empty contract formulary. 

You try to calm yourself. Should you accept it? The betray is also punished with death. They’ll kill you in any way. The green-eyed boy in front of you is your only way to scape.

“Only if you protect me from them.” Eren smirks.

“Granted.”

He doesn’t want to know the Müller secrets, he doesn’t have interest in that. His older brother, Zeke Jaeger, was the one that searched problems. Eren just wants to stay quiet and make easy money without getting his hands covered with blood. He doesn’t want to get in trouble with other families. He doesn’t want to kill, he’s tired of that.  He sits and starts to make your contract. You look how his hands write fast your information. 

“Why?” you ask. All the shock of the previous events didn’t let you think straight. He raises an eyebrow.

“Why what? Speak properly, hm?”

“Why aren’t you going to kill me? I tried to kill you. That’s how this works. One life for another.” Eren keeps writing, unbothered. 

“That’s how it works in Müller’s rules.” he says. “I don’t like that dynamics. Send someone to kill another one.” he answers simply. You look at him. He isn’t a bad person. He isn’t the man everybody talked about. That’s a fake Eren, made by rumors. The boy in front of you is just someone making business. Maybe not in the cleanest way, but at least he doesn’t kill. “I don’t like to kill. And less if the other person is just following orders, scared about the consequences.” He looks at you. It seems you started to calm down. 

“How are you going to cover me?”

“Faking your death. You know I don’t like to go out of the mansion, I saw you walking around it from the window this last days.” You are really surprised. He’s smart, so smart. “I need someone to help with my investments. You don’t need to go out of the mansion.” 

He was strangely calm to be negotiating with the enemy. 

“I could take out another knife and kill you, you know?” you say. He smiles.

“If you announced it, then you’re not going to do it.” He keeps writing. You nod quietly. “I need you to sign here.” He offers you the fountain pen. You could harm him with that. Your hand takes the pen in stabbing position. He sees you from the corner of the eye.

“I wouldn’t do that.” he says, calmly. “Remember that is your life the one risking, not mine.” He’s right. You sigh and sign the contract. Eren smiles.

“You should read the contract before signing.” he says, his voice being like a joke melody. 

“Whatever you’ve put there is better than the punishment of the Müller.” you say, throwing the pen back to him. He catches it easily. 

“Fine, then. You won’t get a single coin in the first year working here.” He says. Wait, was that in the contract? “You tried to kill me. I’m kind, but not that much.”

“But-” He gets up and walks towards you. His green eyes are now close to yours, his breath almost mixing with yours. He smells good.

“But?” he asks. One of his strands of hair move with him, touching your face quietly. He’s really attractive, and so near... 

“How am I supposed to eat?” Eren thinks.

“There are a hundred ways to gain extra pays, you know? Helping on the kitchen, reading my letters or preparing my baths.” he says. “Maybe I could be extra kind and let you have a bath with me.” You can hear the joke in his voice.

“I would politely decline it.” You say. He smiles.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll end enjoying it.”

“They never taught you to not empathize with the enemy?”

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Casually, it seems like you didn’t learn it either.

“Eren.” you call him quietly. You’ve been here for months now, almost eight. In that time, Eren avoided three different trials of murder from you and you got slightly punished for two of them. You ended accepting your fate and helping him, learning that he can be a soft and warm-hearted boy once he stops acting as a mature mafia head. This world isn’t for him.

“What?” he says, a little laugh following his words. He didn’t knew what to make with you, a problematic captive enemy that attempted to murder him multiple times. And your angelical aspect and sweet voice confused him. He ended understanding you, understanding the pain and the fear you feel since little, since the Müller bought you and obligated to train as a spy. He listened to your story and you listened to his, how everyone wanted him to became a good leader, one that wouldn’t doubt to kill for his own benefice. That made you understand each other, fall in love with the most human part of the other one. 

“Move.” you try to push him a little, but he offers resistance. He tangles one leg around yours. Your head is resting on his pillow. How did you went from wanting to pierce his heart with a stylet to wanting to treasure it? His arm tangles on your waist and pulls you closer.

“No.” he answers. You laugh and let you head meet his neck curve. You sigh. “You know? A lot of people want me dead.”

“So I did.” you laugh, and he does too.

“So you did.” he says. You remain silent. “At least say sorry, y/n” 

“Sorry for trying to kill you, Eren.” you say. He lets out a little laugh.

“That was the fakest sorry i’ve heard in years.” you hit his shoulder softly before pulling the blanket higher on your body, covering you two. “What would you do if they kill me?”

“I couldn’t kill you, so no one is going to do it.” You say. He caresses your hair.

“They could. And I don’t want you to be here. They could kill you as well.” His voice shows concern. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Some months ago...” you start, but he interrupts you.

“Some months ago we were just two persons with different ideologies.” he says. You sigh.

“I don’t care. I will stay here even if they point you with three guns and two knifes. I’ll be here with you, I’ll stay here by your side in any way.”

“Y/N”... he says.

“If they kill you, they’ll kill a part of me.”

[cayofdreams]

Vengeance = Repentance

PART 1: VENGEANCE

Summary: Reader had bullied Todoroki throughout all his time in high school. Years later, after a reconnection during an after-work drinking session, she goes back to his place, naively unaware of the payback he has planned for her…

Words: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit, Smut (in part 2)

Warnings: bullying by reader in beginning, murderous thoughts by Todoroki, Dark!Todoroki, drugging

(no smut in the first part, just immense build-up)

Notes: I could not for the life of me think of an interesting Todo fic to write. Until...THIS baby popped into my mind. It was actually really challenging and fun to write what goes on in the mind of Dark!Todoroki. I hope I did it justice.

~~~

He hated you.

Sometimes the only reason he had for living was simply to see the day that you’d be six feet under a cold batch of dirt. You’d be all alone down there with no one to control. No one to manipulate. No one to blackmail or threaten.

You’d have no lackey to run around and get you sweet bread from the convenience store. No lookout to make sure any teachers came to catch the abominable acts you committed in the bathroom stall or behind the gymnasium. No rich father to make sure that whatever horrible deeds you committed that were reported were swept gracefully under a rug.

And most importantly, you wouldn’t have him. The target of all your psychological and physical abuse. The one person who constantly fulfilled your insatiably engorged sadistic ego.

“Heyyy~ Shou, can you come here for a sec?” You had called out to your bi-colored haired classmate from the threshold of the class’ door. The twitch in his shoulders in reaction to your voice made you chuckle. Todoroki slowly slid his chair back, making a scratching noise against the tiled floor, and got up. He walked up towards you with his eyes trailing the floor.

“Yes?”

“Ohh! So obedient today, aren’t we? Hehe- It was only a matter of time I suppose.” You smiled your disgustingly innocent smile at him. “I need you to check something for me. It’s important, okay?”

He stayed silent as he watched you move the hand that was behind your back out forward. You had a carton of milk in your hand, and it seemed to have already been open. He saw you put the carton to your nose and sniff harshly from where the opening was before shoving the carton into his chest. A bit of milk spilled out and dripped onto his uniform.

“This milk. It smells kinda funky. I want you to check it for me.”

“…If it smells funny then it’s probably-“

“Did I ask for your cheap opinion? Just do the favor, alright?” You frustratingly squeezed the carton in your hand which made even more milk spurt out and land on your hand as well as Todoroki’s uniform again. “Ugh! Shit! Look what you made me do! From being so obstinate.”

“Sorry…” He took the carton from your hand. It was practically half full now so he wondered why you even still cared so much. But he didn’t ask. He put the carton to his nose and sniffed to try and find a rotten smell to it. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Are you stupid? Not like that, idiot. You’ll never know if its bad if you check like that.” You quickly took the milk from him and raised it in the air. “You have to check like this~” You began to slowly pour the rest of the carton’s contents onto his head, completely soaking his silky hair and ruining his uniform even more. The milk drenched into his shirt and he could feel its cool wetness trickle his skin. “Ahaha! Weeell?? Is it bad or not, Shouutoo??”

There was a loud commotion of hoots and hollers from the other classmates as they watched your tormenting of Todoroki.

“Uwaah!! Milk boy got dunked on again!!”

“Gross! He’s gonna smell so bad later…”

“Dude! Go wash up! You’re gonna make the whole class smell like milk!”

“Krrgh..” Todoroki choked up in frustration, his hands balled into a fist. The fact he couldn’t just punch you right now could drive him to a point of enraged insanity.

The fact he had to let you get away with this over and over again just because of your father’s notorious connections with various government and business groups. He sometimes thought about just killing you anyway and dealing with the consequences. Prison would be more manageable than continuing to live in this same physical plane as you.

He thought about how he’d do it, too. If he would try to do it inconspicuously with poison, or conspicuously with his hands wrapped around your slender little throat. The former lead to more chances of him getting away with it. He could have the pleasure of your death along with his freedom. But the latter…the latter was just too enticing to pass up. Being able to hear your gargled whimpers attempting to beg for your life. Your legs that would try to kick and pry him off your weak body. Your face losing its color as your body is abruptly deprived of oxygen. And finally, his personal favorite, your bloodshot eyes that would be pleading for him to give you mercy before finally greying out.

Yes…the latter would have to do. Time in prison would be a beautiful cost to pay to see you perish under his fingers. The world would thank him later, for getting rid of their waste. Your death would serve as your repentance

But he was weak. Scared. He couldn’t find the conviction he needed to actually go through with it. It made him feel even worse. Maybe you were never wrong, and he was truly as spineless as you treated him.

But he’d get stronger. He had to. He needed to. He craved to.

-------------------------9 YEARS LATER-------------------------

“Good job on closing the deal, Todo!”

Todoroki had felt a harsh pat on his back before a heavy arm was slung over his shoulder by his spikey red haired coworker as he was grabbing his blazer off the chair.

“It was nothing, Kirishima.” He replied coolly but not without a small twinge of a smile.

“Ha! ‘It was nothing’ he says!” The energetic man turned his head around to face everyone else in the office. “Hey! Everyone! Pay attention to this guy right here! You might become the most successful businessman this country has to offer!”

The office chuckled and gave soft cheers for Todoroki, some of them poking fun at Kirishima’s exuberant display of comradery.

“Todo! Kiri! You guys are coming out for drinks, right!” Another one of Todoroki’s energetic co-workers, this time with bright yellow hair, briskly jogged up towards them. “I already invited the ladies!”

“Totally, dude! Where are we supposed to be going?”

“Heights Alliance! That bar has the best drinks and food a guy could ask for. Not to mention cute girls!

Todoroki softly brushed off the arm of Kirishima before putting his jacket on. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Aw! Come on dude!” This time, the yellow-haired co-worker placing his arm around Todoroki’s shoulder. “You alllways bail on us! Come with us this time! Drinks on Kiri!”

“Hey, Kaminari! Don’t decide that for yourself!” Kirishima retorted. “But yeah, man. You should come out. We miss you sometimes, dude.”

Todoroki hesitated as he contemplated his fellow workers’ requests. Honestly, he had never gone out to just...have fun. He would clog his mind with work which was probably why he was successful anyways. He didn’t even know why he was so disciplined when it came to his career. Not knowing what his goals even were. Focusing primarily on work, but for what? To just deny any moments of pleasure or belonging?

Maybe it was time for a change.

“…Alright.”

“Wooo!!! Todo is officially on board!”

The loudness of the cheers of his coworkers rang stingingly through his eardrums but he couldn’t suppress the smile that stemmed on his face.

As he had the feeling tonight would be an unforgettable night.

-------------------------------------------------

Todoroki sighed as he sipped the last of his drink and placed it softly on the counter in front of him. He sat alone as he thought about what he was even doing there. The entire evening basically constituting to watching his co-workers ramble on about various subjects that he could not get the meaning behind. After a while of heavy drinking, that he did not participate in, everyone either went bar-hopping or went home passed out in a taxi. He truly did not understand the purpose of such gatherings and he started to wonder how he’d even fit into society.  

As he thought to himself, the sudden words from the bartender disrupted his thoughts.

“Oh hey, Y/N. Long time, no see.”

The abrupt sound of your name made him widen his eyes and his body unconsciously jolt in the barstool. Was it really the same Y/N? No, it couldn’t be. Surely there were a bountiful amount of people with names that were similar to yours. But he had to check for himself, so he looked up from his empty glass and-

“Haha…Shinsou. Looking as gorgeously sleepy as ever. How are you?”

The sounds of your conversation with the bartender drowned out with the rest of the bustled atmosphere as he glared upon you. Without a doubt, it was you. He could never forget that figure. That figure that towered over him menacingly even though he was taller than you. That figure that just watched from a distance as you sent your delinquent underlings to pummel him into the cold cement. That figure who would bow respectfully to teachers when they dismissed any reports of your lechery. And now that same figure was only a few feet away from him, sitting gracefully at the bar counter as you talked to the unknowing bartender.

His glare locked long enough onto your figure for you to finally meet his eyes. And before he could look away, you had called out to him.

“Eh..? To…Todoroki?” You had softly called out to him. Using his name in a way that he had never heard from you before. Using a voice that harshly contradicted the patronizing tone you barked commands at him with. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”. You were smiling at him. Smiling at him as if he were a longtime friend that you missed connections with due to one of you going abroad.

You had hopped out of the barstool and approached your old classmate, taking a new seat beside him. He looked over at the wall of drinks displayed in front him, avoiding your gazing. “Wow…you’re all grown up now, huh?” You looked over to the bartender raising your hand at him. “Shinsou~ A refill on whatever he had, okay? Make it two actually.” The bartender simply nodded at you before mixing up various alcohol and flavors behind the counter.

“I..I don’t want to drink.” Todoroki shivered at his own statement as he was reminded of the times you’d scream at him for not doing something you’d ask.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s on me, okay? Don’t worry about it.” You had inched your head more over the counter trying to get a better look at him. “Your hair…I always thought it was dyed. But I guess its real, huh.” You reached your hand out to run your fingertips through his silky bi-colored bangs. He twitched at your touch.

What exactly were you doing? Acting so innocent with him like this. Were you just going to pretend like the three-year long trauma you subjected him to was a fable? An illusion? Or perhaps you had minimized the damage you’d done in your mind in order to preserve your own sanity as you took over a new life.

“...Y/N. What are you doing?”

You quirked your eyebrows in confusion at his question. “What do you mean? I just…I just think your hair is really pretty is all.”

Were you faking it? Was this another one of your atrocious jokes? Perhaps within the next minute you’d start cackling at him, asking him how he could be stupid enough to believe he deserved such niceties from the likes of you.

Todoroki looked down and squeezed the empty glass on the counter. “Don’t you…don’t you remember? What you did to me?”

“Todoroki…” You lowered your eyebrows in sorrow. “I-I’m sorry for what I did to you back then. I was indeed…a cruel person. I know you probably won’t accept that…but I still want to tell you. You at least deserve my apology. As cheap as it is.”

He looked over to you, surprised at your apologetic tone. He gazed into your e/c eyes. The very e/c eyes that captured the hearts of everyone around you, yet seethed supremacy and calamity toward him. He had learned to distrust anyone with eyes that resembled yours. The eyes that were now looking at him with…

Remorse. Your eyes were burdening in remorse. As soon as Todoroki saw the guilt that dwelled in your eyes he knew that this wasn’t a joke. That you weren’t pretending to feel these things. The look in your eyes unquestionably conveyed the apology you had stated earlier.

And it was that same look that would ascend an unusual beast that lurked within the visceral regions of his body. An unfamiliar thirst that stayed submerged within him, never needing to be satisfied until now. It gurgled within the depths of his gut, practically wanting to vomit out of his esophagus.

A beast that went by the name of revenge. And it would be so easy to pursue it right now with the plague of repentance beating in your heart.

Todoroki placed one of his hands on yours and squeezed tightly. Your skin was so soft, so smooth. He could never take the time to feel how delicate your skin was when the only touch of yours he knew before was the stinging slaps you’d deliver on his face. But tonight, he’d be able to feel something more, and the touch of his hands on yours only made the beast inside of him grow more and more unruly.

“I forgive you, Y/N.” He tried to state it in the softest way possible, making sure the feigning of the line wouldn’t be discovered. However, he knew you believed him by the twinkle in your eye, signifying an immense weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“Todoroki…” A warm tear dropped from your cheek to his hand. “Thank you, Todoroki… thank you.” More tears would soon follow and drop onto his hand. He would’ve let go of you if he wasn’t so encapsulated by the feeling of your salty waters dropping onto his skin. As your tears cooled and dried up into his hand, he couldn’t have felt more enthused.

It was only then that Todoroki could take in the beauty that was your face. You looked so elegant like that, with pools of emotions trailing down your cheeks. Maybe if he’d seen this site of you in high school he’d had instantly fell in love. But such feelings didn’t reside in him anymore. They’d been evicted by the lurking beast of revenge, and that beast was craving more of this site from you.

“Two Vieux Carre cocktails” The bartender had placed the drinks on the counter in front of each of you before grabbing something under the counter. “…and a tissue”. He handed the soft fabric to you which made you giggle a bit.

“Thank you, Shinsou.”

He simply hummed a reply at you and returned to making drinks for other patrons that had walked in.

While you wiped away the allure that was your tears, Todoroki sat there, thinking of prolific strategies of how to get you under his grip. Should he just ask you to come home with him? Wouldn’t that be too straight forward? He didn’t know much about social interactions, but he knew asking a woman at a bar to come home with him had its underlying implications. And its not that he was undesired by women; he knew of the colleagues in his office that held romantic feelings for him. He just never followed through with any of them, never feeling anything close to the desires that were brought for him.

He also couldn’t help but feel subconscious about asking you to come home with him. You were the person that so incredibly ridiculed him for three years. You were still the same person who made him believe that no sane person would ever look twice at him. That he was too weak and monotonous to ever make someone feel happy.

Or were you? It seemed that whatever life change you went through caused you to redevelop your entire personality. Maybe you’d be like most the women he encountered in his life and become attracted to him? After-all, he also wasn’t the same person as he was in high school. He’d become stronger mentally and physically as well as much more confident about himself.

“Y/N, would you like to…finish drinking at my home?”

You stopped drying your tears at the suddenness of the question. “Huh?...You actually want me in your home?”

“Only if you want to.” Todoroki squeezed your hand again attempting to signal the desire to have you with him in private.

Blood rose to your nose and you looked away in embarrassment. “…Okay.”

Todoroki couldn’t stop the widening of his eyes at your acceptance. A part of him truly believed you’d call him disgusting before jumping up and delivering one of your characteristic slaps to his face. The heavens knew just how badly that needed to happen. If you’d rejected him, the beast of revenge may have gone right back to where it resided, deep in the subconscious of his mind.

But no, you’d accepted him. And with that, you’d accept your punishment. If you were truly ready to take on a new life, you would need to repent for your old one.

------------------------------------------------------------

Todoroki couldn’t stop the erratic beating of his heart as the two of you walked over the threshold into his house. He was closer and closer to fulfilling the dream of having you within his grips. But he couldn’t be too impatient as this would be the part where he would need to tread carefully. As the two of you took off your shoes, he would continue to watch your every move, like a jaguar stalking its prey.

“Woww!” Your eyes wandered around Todoroki’s living room, amazed at how expansive and beautifully designed it was. “Your house is so luxurious! And polished!” You looked back at Todoroki. “It suits you.”

Todoroki was a bit taken aback by your statement. As far as he knew, you had a rich father who catered to everything your callous heart desired. He was partly the reason behind his suffering seeing as that your father made sure any unpleasantry brought against you was hushed behind a closed door. “You aren’t used to this?” He stepped over to the mini-bar area and reached up to grab a specific bottle of wine.

“Huh?” You followed behind him and leaned against the bar counter, grazing your finger over the refined marble surface.  

“This…kind of house. You aren’t used to it?” He grabbed a corkscrew from the drawer and began to pry off the wine bottle’s cork. “Your father was a rich businessman was he not?”

You scoffed as you rested your elbow on the marble. “My father was in the yakuza. Rich in some aspects, but no businessman.” Your eyes fell from Todoroki to the counter. “And we never got to live in a place anywhere this grand. Especially after he was taken down by the cops…”

“I see.” It made perfect sense honestly. Your yakuza connections would explain the lackeys, the apathy of the teachers towards your lechery, the strange approval of your actions by the entire class. It must’ve been hard behind the scenes having to be the daughter of a yakuza member, but nonetheless it wouldn’t your crimes against his humanity. Todoroki poured two glasses of wine and placed one on the counter next to you.

“Should we…sit on the couch?” You looked towards to main part of the living room, eyes landing on Todoroki’s expensive sectional. “I-I mean…if you want to…”

Todoroki noticed the flustering of your face and couldn’t help but think that if the two of you had met under different pretexts he would surely have made you his wife. But marriage is not what this affair is about. This affair is about satisfying the demon that grew expansively inside of him.

He grabbed your hand and intertwined his fingers between yours as he picked up both glasses with his other hand. “I’d love to, Y/N”.

He walked the two of you over to the couch, waiting until you sat down to hand you your glass and sit closely beside you. He carefully watched as you took sips from the glass, mesmerized by the shape of lips and how you’d glossed them for your night out. They looked so soft and delicate and perfectly matched the dimensions of your face.

But your naivety obviously outmatched your beauty Todoroki thought. How could you so easily drink from the hands of someone who would so obviously want to get revenge on you? Did your newfound personality make you oblivious to the dangers of life? Maybe after wanting to permanently discard the remains of the yakuza from your brain, you decided to look at people in a new light. Maybe you wanted to just see the good in everyone and learn that most people aren’t out to destroy you. It is indeed a true thought; most people don’t want to destroy you.

But most people also don’t subject those around them to abhorrent acts of malice. And for that, your naivety would prove to be one of the worst decisions you’d made in your small existence.

“Your wine…it tastes very good.” You had swirled what left of it you had before drinking it all within a couple more gulps.

Probably the best compliment you could have said in your life. Todoroki had taken the time to make sure every speckle of power was completely dissolved into the wine. He couldn’t taste it himself or get a taste tester of course, so he would have just had to wait until your ultimate encountering to test it. And it worked.

“It was a gift from a friend abroad.” A lie. But a believable lie. “I’m glad you like it.”

You quizzingly looked at his still full glass of wine in his hand. “Why didn’t you drink any?”

“Oh...I- well I guess I am already a bit tipsy from the bar so further consumption would be ill-advised.” He smoothy stated before placing the glass on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggled at the statement as Todoroki internally cackled at your gullibility.

“You know, Todoroki…” Your eyes strayed to your lap. “I know this must mean nothing coming from me but…I liked you a lot in high school.” You twirled your index finger in circles on your skirt. “And I know I was mean to you but…I believe that our encounter must have been fate because, well…I still like you.”

Todoroki smiled, a cover-up for the guttural laughter that wanted to burst out of him. He let go of your hand and traced his fingers across your cheek before holding the side of your face delicately in his hand. “That…means more than you’d ever know, Y/N.”

“Shouto…”

He leaned over to give you a peck on the cheek before pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were just as soft as they looked and the gloss you wore provided a sweet vanilla taste. You sunk your hand into the red side of his hair before slipping your tongue in between his lips. Your tongue felt hot in his mouth and Todoroki grabbed your head to pull you deeper into the kiss. He tasted every part of your mouth that he could with his tongue. Your teeth, your gums, the inside of your cheeks. He made sure to leave his mark everywhere in your mouth, foreboding to the marks that would soon be left on your body.

As his kiss got deeper, yours became shallower and lazier. Eventually you pressed your hand against his chest to softly get him to back up.

“I’m sorry, Shouto…” You pressed your hand to your forehead. “It seems…I have a headache…and I’m kinda sleepy.” Your eyelids drooped heavily as sleep seemed to overcome you. “I…should go home.”

Shouto grabbed your head and leaned you down on the couch, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Ssshh…its okay Y/N. You can just sleep here for tonight. I’ll drive you back in the morning.”

“Okay…thankyou, Shouto.” You quickly drifted off to sleep at the finish of your sentence.

When Todoroki felt the heaves of your chest raise higher and lower at deeper levels, he picked you up into his arms, carrying you gently to make sure you wouldn’t wake up. Though that was a rare chance seeing as how he put a little extra power in the wine to make sure it would subdue you. He carried you down the corridor to the door that would lead to your demise. Before he walked down the stairs, he whispered into your non-listening ear.

“This encounter is indeed special, Y/N. But it will be more special to you than it will for me…because tonight will mark my vengeance. And tonight will also mark…your repentance.”

[theonlygamergost]

Gestures are louder than words - Fd!au

This fanfiction is based on the Family Dynamic au made by @antarctic-bay if you would like to know more, go check them out!!!

Also please bear in mind that the things written in this might not be canon!

Of course, this fic was grammatically corrected by the amazing @im-default

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To get a better context, read this first, if you don't want to, have a quick summary :)

Tommy comes back home in a very bad mood, Wilbur and Phil are concerned but end up making the situation worse, but Techno knows how to make Tommy talk : ASL (American sign language.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings! Bullying, repressed anger, yelling, angst, hoo boy angst, crying, angst with a good ending, fluff and brother bonding moment :)

(The cursive and bold words are meant to be when they speak in gestures)

Enjoy~

“Ah, welcome back Tommy!” The inviting smell coming from whatever Phil was cooking welcomed him in just like his brother, both of which reminded him of his oopsie: He arrived home late.

Well… Phil did end his shift early, but arriving home after him for all of the brothers meant “they stayed out too late” since he always arrived home deep into the night.

“T-thanks...” Tommy sighed, Wilbur was on the counter, too absorbed into his algebra problems to notice him. Techno was nowhere to be seen but he wasn’t surprised, his door was closed so…you could imagine where he was, hint: when he wasn’t home his room’s door was open.

Closing himself in his room, he allowed his back to slide down the door until he sat on the floor, bringing his knees to his chest and squeezing them tight.

He wasn’t sad, he wasn’t crying, he was simply angry, hoo boy he was angry.

Taking a deep breath, he got up and sat at his desk, grabbing a notebook out of his backpack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You go around with a plushie? Pff, what a child…” Tubbo reached out for his bee plushie “Give me Spins back!”, needlessly since another bully pushed him on the ground.

“Aw~ the doggy wants his toy?”

“Give. It. Back.” Tommy appeared behind the bullies, shoving one of them onto the ground.

“Oh my… the Ally of Justice, The Protector of the Weak!” one mocked him.

As a punch was about to hit the bully’s face, a teacher arrived and stopped both of them, blaming it more on Tommy than the real bully, sending them both home.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The music from his headphones brought him back to reality, scribbling down words for his English homework, god he was pissed.

How dare they bully Tubbo! And for his plushie Spins! Of course, he had already made a plan on how to get back at them, no one messes with his best friend without paying for it, yet he still couldn’t see that situation as a win for the bullies.

The teacher always saw him as the one at fault, he was the “Black Sheep” of the Pandel brothers, the disgrace of the fami-

A knock interrupted his train of thoughts, “Dinner is ready! Come wash your hands, you gremlin” came from behind the door, a distant “That’s kinda mean Will” accompanied it.

He sat at the table, one of the chairs was empty: Techno was missing, but what’s new? It was his habit to skip dinner, Tommy wondered if he would have skipped tonight’s one too.

“Techno! Food’s ready, come eat!” Phil half-shouted while serving the food, all of them stood quietly waiting for the response.

…

“Techno?” Phil took off the potholders and peeked into his room, a muffled “Kinda busy right now, I’ll come at the table in a minute” came his response.

Phil’s cuisine had always been better than restaurant’s in Tommy’s eyes, and the omelette with bacon and cheese he had prepared today was just like everything else he cooked: amazing.

Tommy once asked Phil where he had learned how to cook so well, his response was a simple “Mom and dad were both very good at cooking, you’d also be surprised how much you can learn from watching videos” kinda cliche, but fair enough.

“How was your day at school boys?” Phil asked after swallowing down a bite, Tommy gestured at Will to go first.

“All and all, my day went pretty well. Had a test but it was quite easy, Nikki and I also went to a bar and chatted ‘till it was time to go back, pretty chill day.” Wilbur nodded at his own thoughts and drank some water, then both of them looked at Tommy.

“What” He stared back, eyes flickering between the two brothers.

“So? How was your day?” Will encouraged him to talk, Tommy rolled his eyes. “Nothin’ special” he started, ”The history teacher scolded me for chewing a gum in class and…” after a deep breath and a couple of thoughts processed, “N-nothing else happened.” he decided to stay quiet. He couldn’t be bothered to explain the whole thing to them, especially since Phil could scold him for punching that dick-bag in the face, that would just put him in an even worse mood.

But of course, his brothers wouldn’t let that slide.

“Are you sure that’s all it happened? You don’t look like someone who had a “Nothing special” kinda day.” Will had always been curious, maybe too curious at times, Phil also nodded: They weren’t blind, they could see that Tommy wasn’t in a good mood.

“Oh come on Will, I was the one who lived my day, I’m telling you, nothing special happened!” Techno emerged from his room and grabbed a plate, no one really noticed him though. Tommy shoved a bite in his mouth to avoid saying more than he should.

“I know we are being kinda pushy Tommy but-” “Yes!!! You are being very pushy Phil!!!” At this point, he couldn’t hold it in, he wasn’t mad at them… but the rage he had suppressed before to avoid making a scene at school had to get out somehow.

“We are just worried about you Tommy! Show some appreciation!” Will stood up for Phil: the brothers didn’t like it when someone yelled at or didn’t treat their older brother well, many times Tommy had done what Wilbur was doing, but his mind wasn’t calm enough to think right now.

“Oh?! Worried?! For me?! If you would really be worried you would just LEAVE ME BE!!!” He turned around and slammed as hard as he could the door shut, the noise echoed through the Pandel house, then silence.

Tommy took his pillow and started punching it, letting the anger and tension out, after a couple of swings, he threw it to the other side of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the Pandel brothers ate in silence, each of them absorbed into their own thoughts about the same topic: Tommy.

“So…Who is gonna go talk to him?” Wilbur broke the silence. “It’s better if no one goes talk to him right now, you heard him, he wants to be left alone.” Will looked at Phil “But we can’t leave him in that state! We have to-!” the older one finished his sentence “Help him, I know, but talking to him now will only make things worse, so let’s wait until he comes out” He stood up and grabbed Tommy’s plate, Phil moved what he left into a small container. “And if someone should talk to him” He opened the fridge, “It should be Techno, he has more chances of talking to him without an immediate rejection” Wilbur stared at the food in his plate in defeat, Techno simply nodded and ate the last bite of omelette: He even might have an idea on how to approach him.

~~~~~~~~~

Tommy left his room as Techno entered his, to put up his plan he had to stay in the living room, so that’s what he was going to do.

He grabbed what he needed to study and sat at the very end of the counter, immediately focusing on the textbook in front of him.

After Tommy looked at Techno weird since he rarely studied in the living room, he opened the fridge and grabbed a glass, filled it with milk, and went back to the sofa where he had dropped off his switch, sitting down and plugging in the earphones, he started playing “Breath of the Wild”. Tubbo had already finished it and Tommy wanted to try it out, being too broke to buy it, Tubbo lent his out of pity.

“Techno can you help me with this?” Will approached the counter with his textbook in hand, the pen in the other hand was busy scratching his head “I keep getting the wrong result and I don’t know-”

“No” He replied without taking his eyes off of his textbook, “Awww come on! I need to do this for tomorrow!” Techno sighed and patted the seat next to his, closing his homework to make room for Wilbur’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost an hour had passed and Techno had both helped Wilbur, who was now doing other work next to him and had finished his own stuff, he stretched his arms and back gaining a smile from Phil who was also working on his old pc.

After pouring a glass of milk for the rest of the brothers, including himself, he drank it all down and flopped on the sofa right in front of Tommy, who looked up to see why the seat had moved and then went back to his game.

Techno sat in a more comfortable position and started to tap on Tommy’s leg with his foot to grab his attention.

At first, all he got was some annoyed sounds, then his legs were pushing him away, and finally, he got his attention.

“What?!” He barked, eyes fixed on his smirking face. For any other person, Techno simply started waving his hands around while mouthing words, but for Tommy that was way more, that was Sign language.

What are you doing? Tommy rolled his eyes and placed his Switch on his lap, I don’t want to talk right now, Techno snickered, As if you have a choice. The younger one sighed.

At the start of the year, Tommy wasn’t doing so good with grades, his problem was that he couldn’t remember anything no matter how hard he tried. Yet Techno had noticed how he could remember fighting moves (taught to him by Deo) and other stuff pretty easily, his solution? Sign language.

The sentences were very short to gesture and way easier to remember, like that, Tommy’s grades went up in no time.

As a consequence, Techno and Tommy were the only one in the house that knew how to talk in ASl (American Sign Language), so of course, they used it to share secrets or just to annoy Wilbur since he couldn’t understand.

They also used it to talk in the cafeteria to either insult each other without getting scolded or to have a normal conversation. It was their own special way of communicating and bonding over stuff.

I know that Will and Phil bothered you about your mood, but you seriously need to let it out, his body got stiff as a self-defence mechanism, Unless you want to become a ticking time-bomb and explode near someone you care about... again.

Tommy’s eyes widened at the flashback of him shouting at Deo for something he hadn’t done came back, he was so mad he insulted his dear friend heavily, it took him an entire week to make the guilt go away and another two weeks to muster up the courage he needed to talk to him again. Deo forgave him but… to this day, Tommy still hadn’t forgiven himself.

After a minute of zoning out, he started gesturing and mouthing again:

Two students started making fun of Tubbo and I intervened, I punched one of them but… Techno’s arms were crossed as he was reading what Tommy was saying, Let me guess Wilbur looked up from his textbook and saw Techno gesturing, he wanted to yell at them to use their voices so bad… but he had to endure it this time… for Tommy’s sake.

A teacher walked in just as you punched him, blamed it on you, and sent you both home? Tommy looked at the console in his lap and slowly nodded, Techno sighed and patted the empty space next to him, smiling at the blonde boy.

Tommy crawled to the spot and hugged Techno, who just embraced him tightly while caressing his back in comfort, and the bomb, slowly defused itself: Tommy started sobbing, letting his emotions out.

“I’ll help you avenge him tomorrow” Techno whispered just before grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around the both of them, “We’ll make them pay, I promise Tommy” Tommy nodded and got even closer to Techno.

A shaky “T-thank you…” was all that came out of Tommy’s mouth before more sobs took over.

Will, who saw the whole scene, shook Phils arm lightly, pointing at the younger brothers.

He smiled at them and looked back at Wilbur, who leaned to whisper in his ear “Let them be” to then pat his shoulder.

Wilbur looked back at Techno and Tommy and smiled too.  

[zeldasayer]

I transcribed and translated Pedro’s interview from GQ Germany for all of us. I tried translating as good as possible but bear with me, English is not my mother tongue. By @sixties-loser

Pedro Pascal, the star from “Game of Thrones”, “Wonder Woman” and “The Mandalorian” talks about becoming an adult, film, fashion, corona – and a painful surgery in the exclusive GQ interview.

It seems almost eerie how empty the streets of LA are in the sunshine. Meanwhile a new normality seems to be coming to Europe, most people in L.A. are still cutting their own hair. Many have not seen their friends for half a year. The pandemic is out of control. The reaction towards it too. Inviting someone into their garden for a “distance drink” can cause the same distress as suggesting to switch spouses.

Therefore, it was particularly surprising that Pedro Pascal immediately accepted. He accepted the drink, not to switch spouses. He is one of the rising stars and newcomers this year – if it wasn’t for corona sending the whole film industry into a forced vacation, there would most likely not have been time for said drink. After having his skull crushed in “Game of Thrones” followed the lead role as a DEA agent hunting Pablo Escobar in “Narcos” in 2015 and now he is stepping towards big Hollywood films. From the 1st of October onwards the Chilean-born actor will be starring in the blockbuster “Wonder Woman 1984”. Moreover, the second season of the “Star Wars”-series “The Mandalorian” on Disney+ starring him as the lead is going to air in October this year – but he will be underneath a helmet. Well, we all are under a helmet in 2020 in one way or another. We want to meet the man who a few years ago still worked as a waiter in New York, whose parents were political refugees who found asylum in Denmark and settled in Texas and whose son one day signed up for a theatre group in High School.

Then, the cancellation! While we were in the middle of fixing up the house and the garden for the drink with Pedro and organizing the fashion shoot, which was not easy considering the safety measures in L.A., his management called with an unfortunate message: Pedro – no, not sick with corona – had to get emergency surgery because of a damaged tooth and was lying in bed with a swollen face that was hindering him from speaking and taking pictures. The sun is shining onto empty streets. And our empty garden.

A few days later he nonetheless arrived at our front door without a swollen face but still with threads in his mouth. He was not chauffeured by a limo-service but he came with his own car – he even picked up his make-up artist. He is helping her carrying all of her utensils into the house and declares: “I’ve got time today!”. What a celebrity! It seemed like we did not want to ask him how he made it to the A-List of Hollywood but he wanted to ask us how we made it to the A-list. Pedro Pascal! Yes, what kind of a celebrity?

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for messing with your plans. The surgery was an emergency.

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling wasn’t the product of a secret visit to the plastic-surgeon. Apparently, they are drowning in work because of the quarantine in Hollywood.

PP: I have to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I was rushing to the hospital with a fractured tooth and the worst pain in my entire life – a hospital in which treats people with severe cases of corona. I was unable to reach any dentist! Right in front of the parking lot a specialist called me back. The pain was hell despite the ten injections I got. The doctor said I was not an exception because a lot of people are grinding their teeth because of all the stress.

GQ: What are you most afraid of at the moment?

PP: How the government is handling the pandemic is worrying me more than the virus itself. This shortage of intelligent management of the crisis is a moral shame. The leadership crisis in this country is turning us all into orphans – destitute and abandoned.

GQ: How did you spend your time over the last few months?

PP: I spent it with frozen pizza and sweatpants in Venice Beach. I live in a rear house that’s in a family’s garden. Actually, there are a lot of good takeout places nearby but for some reason I just love pepperoni pizza from the supermarket.

GQ: That does not really sound like movie star-lifestyle. What does it feel like being suddenly stopped from top speed to zero?

PP: Regarding what is going on around the world one should hold back one’s own mental turmoil. I would be lying if I was saying that I am not disappointed. The whole team put a lot of heart and work into the production of “Wonder Woman 1984”. We had a lot of fun on set. I wished to travel around the world and introduce the film with the same lively energy.

GQ: You come from a politically engaged, socialist family that fled from the Pinochet-regime in Chile. What do you remember from that time?

PP: My sister and I were born in Chile but I was only nine months old when we first found asylum in Denmark. From there we quickly came to San Antonio in Texas where my dad started working as a doctor at the university clinic.

GQ: Texas is not known as a socialist utopia. How did you assimilate?

PP: San Antonio is not a Cowboy-town but very diverse with big Asian, black and Latino communities. I remember it as a romantic place, culturally open. The culture shock only came as we later moved to range county in California. There the atmosphere was suddenly white, preppy and conservative.

GQ: How were you received in California?

PP: I’m still ashamed of the fact that I did not correct my classmates when they kept on calling me Peter. I am Pedro. Even if I didn’t grow up in Chile the country and the language are still a part of me. I was very unhappy in that environment. However, I was fortunately able to go to another school close to Long Beach where I felt more comfortable. Through the theater group at that school I found my way.

GQ: Were you able to visit Chile as a child?

PP: Yes, when my parents made it to the list of expatriates that were able to travel to Chile without consequences. First, there was a big family reunion and then my sister and I stayed there for a few months with relatives while my parents went back to Texas. They likely needed a break from us. They got us when they were very young, had a buzzing social life and my mother was obtaining a PhD in psychology.

GQ: Was your mother a typical young psychologist who wanted to apply her theoretical knowledge at home?

PP: You mean, whether I was her guinea pig? For sure! I remember strange tests and sittings that were disguised as games where someone was watching me react to different toys. I cannot have been older than six but I was already aware of the dynamic. My favourite thing was being questioned about my dreams. That was a wonderful opportunity to come up with fantastic stories.

GQ: Was that your first performance?

PP: Of course! My mother worried about my strong imagination because I was living in my own fantasy world rather than reality. I hated going to school. I was always categorized as the troublemaker. At one point, the topics at school became more interesting and my grades also went up. There are so many kids that are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be abhorrent. Why is it so accepted to be bored in class when there are so many stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

GQ: Considering al that has happened this summer around the world: Do you believe that we can seriously demand social change now?

PP: I Hope so. After lockdown, the first time I went out was to protest for “Black Lives Matter” on the streets. The energy was peaceful and hopeful until the police provoked severe conflicts. Nevertheless, we cannot run from problems like we used to this time and we cannot distract ourselves from them either. It seems like the pressure of the pandemic led to a new clarity: We cannot go on this way.

GQ: The “Wonder Woman 1984” Trailer revives the optimism of the 1980’s. From today’s point of view, it seems almost nostalgic.

PP: That’s right. You really are happy for two hours. The director Patty Jenkins created a film full of positive messages. We shot in Washington D.C., then in London and Spain – this sounds like I am talking of a past time.

GQ: Do you miss traveling?

PP: I’m just now realizing the privilege of just packing up one’s stuff and being able to fly anywhere. An American passport used to guarantee unlimited travel. And that’s why it the small radius of our lives is actually unimaginable. Over the last years I often retreated for a break after shootings because I was constantly on the move and overstimulated. My friends were already complaining I had become too comfortable. We all took social contact for granted and are only realizing now how dependent we actually are on human contact. Over the last weeks I often longingly thought about all the parties and dinner invitations I declined.

GQ: In L.A. people spend more time at home or nature than in other metropolises that are more geared towards public life. Could this city become your second home after New York?

PP: My Real Home are my friends. I have been a nomad since I was little and I do not have a place where I have put down roots. Up until not long ago my physical home was a place in between departure and arrival. Therefore, it was something I did not want to complicate through the accumulation of stuff. On the contrary: Without having read Marie Kondo’s book I have freed myself from excess baggage over the last few years and I lived relatively minimally.

GQ: Is there nothing you collect or something you just can’t throw away?

PP: Books! I even still have the literature I read when I was a teenager and when I was in college. Recently, I stumbled upon a box full of old theatre manuscripts and materials from my time at the New York University. I also cannot part from art easily, just like I cannot part from lamps or old photos. On the other hand, I can easily get rid of furniture and clothes.

GQ: Do you remember roles that were really only completely defined through the costume?

PP: Yes, I am particularly thinking about “Game of Thrones”. At that time I understood for the first time what it meant to be supported by a look. This is thanks to the costume designer Michele Clapton. She created very feminine robes and brocade coats for my character that nevertheless looked masculine when worn and I felt very sexy in them. Of course, Lindy Hemmings power-suits and Jan Swells bleached hairstyle for the tycoon-villain in “Wonder Woman 1984” were very important as well. At first I did not really see myself in the role because the cuts and colors of the 80s do not really fit my body. I’m more the 70s type.

GQ: Do you incorporate those inspirations into your personal wardrobe?

PP: In my free time I choose comfort over a cool look these days. Sometimes I miss the times when I expressed myself through a certain style. It is hard to imagine that I went to Raves as a teenage in the 90s; I was a real club kid with ridiculous outfits: overalls, balloon pants, football shirts and a top hat, like in Dr.Seuss’s “Cat in a Hat”. Later in New York I was hanging out with a group of people that felt it was very important to have a certain style. The fact that I am basically only wearing sweatpants everyday is actually tragic.

GQ: whoever plays roles in comic book adaptations becomes a bodybuilder and eats ten chicken breasts a day. You don’t?

PP:My body would not agree with that. It is hard enough to stay in shape normally. When you’re in your mid-forties you have to live with a lot more discipline. Up until before my tooth-incident I worked out with a trainer in my garden multiple times a week to keep the quarantine body in check.

GQ: Apart from the personal trainer, are you in a steady relationship?

PP: I am not ready for that yet. Maybe at some point I will be but until then I’ll let it be. I can’t even offer you absurd corona dating stories.

GQ: What would annoy you the most if you were your own roommate?

PP: I can be quite controlling. I have to conjure all my humanity to prevent myself from going through my entire film collection. When I don’t want something I cannot keep it to myself or be passive-aggressive, I always have to take it to the frontlines. Other than that, I tend to have tunnel view: when I am not feeling well I cannot imagine to ever feel better again. I have trouble relativizing my emotions or to wave off problems. Method-acting would really not be for me. This is why I try to only work on projects that feel good, where there is mutual support and encouragement.

GQ: When we were trying on the clothes earlier you spoke of a lack of self-confidence. How does that get along with a career like yours?

PP: Isn’t it interesting how these characteristics and circumstamces relate? Self-worth comes from inside but it is also influenced by what society values because we often internalise the public gaze. I have lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and made a living by working as a waiter until my mid-thirties because the theatre and film jobs I got did not pay the bills. There were so many times I was almost there. The disappointment of having missed the perfect role or opportunity by a hair’s width can be crushing. When should you give up and what is plan B? That is a question that is not only on many actors‘s minds but also on many others minds who struggle for a living – no matter how much potential they have or how close they seem to be to the top. We are seeing now how our narrow definition of success destroys society. At the same time, we are realizing that where we come from and the color of our skin still decide whether we can exist with dignity.

GQ: What are the positive aspects of a relatively late success as leading-man?

PP: I feel like I can decide over my own life without the pressure of having to accept projects or to have to present a certain identity on social media. This is for sure also because I am a man. Regardless of age, Women have to try harder to stand out.

GQ: Life always consists of risk management – now more than usual. For what would you risk losing something?

PP: Generally, when you never risk something you might never get ahead. That is for friendship, love, work and creativity. I have to be ready to take risks for the things that really matter to you.

[paradise-creator]

Pauline's song:

A royal Au with Daichi Sawamura! Dancing and Semi comfort. You can never feel unloved with his man.

Word count: 1.9k

Genre: Fluff

The masquerade ball has been going on for hours at this point. Starting when the sun had set and it will continue was the sun will rise. As the people danced inside, the music was loud and food was served. Daichi, the king of Karasuno, was merely watching his fellow royals walk along the crowd and finding for people to chat with. “Are you not going to socialize?” Sugawara, his right hand man asked as he placed his hands on his hips. “Oh, well Ushijima left to reunite with his love so I am just waiting for an opportunity,” The blackette said. “Opportunity to get your babe?” Sugawara teased. “Yes, exactly that,” Daichi said. “Where is M’lady anyway?” The silver asked. “She is currently mingling with a few nobles down over there,” Daichi said as he gestured to where you were.

As the queen of Karasuno, you were dressed in a gown of your choice. It was your favorite dress, after all. It was also Daichi’s favorite. Cause it really matches you and he loves the sparkle in your eye whenever you wear it. “I heard you married King Daichi Sawamura of Karasuno, congrats~” One of the girls said as she placed her fan in front of her mouth. “Yes! Sawamura has been so sweet! I absolutely love him,” You responded as you smiled. “Show us the ring!” Your closest friend said as they looked at you. You showed them the ring Daichi gave to you. The symbol of his undying and eternal love for you, his queen. “That is a really pretty ring!” One of them said as they looked at your ring. “Yeah, he picked it himself,” You responded with a smile.

As the conversation continued, things got a bit uncomfortable. “You know on how some royals marry for political purposes, are you sure Daichi loves you?” One of the nobles said. You hummed in confusion as you looked at her. “Of course I know he loves me,” You responded. “It doesn’t seem like it though,” Another commented. “What do you mean?” You then asked as you slightly glared at them. “Well Karasuno was a weak kingdom before recently, are you sure he isn’t using this as a political advantage?” One said. “Or maybe it was a scheme for them to rise to power?” One added. They explained their part and it made sense to you. Daichi is a gentleman, so maybe he was just doing this for curtesy. Was all the moments you both spent together a fraud? All the stolen kisses, the dates, and even the moments you held in close doors. Are all of them just curtsy? A sense of insecurity flooded your senses but you still kept the smile upon your face.

As the conversation about your relationship with Daichi continues, your lover noticed the change of behavior from you and decided to go check. He was observing you from afar and he knows your habits. “Pardon me, m’ladies,” Daichi said as he came towards you and your group of friends. You all greet him and some tried to change the subject. “Your majesty, these three tried to spread lies about your love for your queen,” Your friend then explained to Daichi. You subtly give her a “What was that for?” face while she mouth your welcome. “Is this true?” He asked as he looked at you. You responded honestly and looked away from his gaze. His face stoic and cold in front of the three said nobles. “Such blasphemy you are spreading,” He started as he gently made you look at him. He placed one of his arms on your waist and his other hand cupped your cheek.

His cold and stoic expression melted into a soft one. His eyes and smile could show how much love he has for you. The gentleness of his hands and the warmth. All of it reminded you of home. All your worries washed away as you leaned in to his touch. “I love you, okay? Don’t ever doubt that,” He said as he kissed your forehead. He then turned back to the ladies in front of you. “To answer the already obvious question. I love her,” Daichi started as he pulled you close. “I love her with all my heart. She is my queen, my lover, my other half. This ring I gave her shows that I want to be by her side for eternity. It is not just some political project. What I feel for her is genuine and real” He added as he displayed his ring to them. His voice was soft and filled with love. Those that are listen can feel the sheer amount of love he has for you.

It was not a surprised. Everyone can see how much love he has for you. But it’s oh so easy to feel down. How could you forget the promises he had given you? The vows that you both exchanged. For better or for worse, you both would be together. Daichi looked at you with such fondness. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. He then looked at all of them before turning back to you. He leaned in and kissed you softly. He cupped your face and pulled you closer. Once he pulled away, he had a smirk. He then kissed your forehead and let you recover from his attempt.

“Anyone who says otherwise will have consequences,” Daichi said coldly. “Come now my darling. Let’s go to somewhere else,” He then said as he led you out of the place. “See you, your majesty!” Your friend then said as they waved goodbye. You and him walked silently across the busy ballroom. As people made way for the two of you, Daichi held you close and refused to let go. Once you both were outside of the palace, things were a bit peaceful. It was silent the whole time, the tension and awkwardness was, unnerving.

“Don’t listen to them,” Daichi said as he stopped walking. Now the two of you were in a middle of an empty hallway. It was very well lit and at your left was a door to the garden. Daichi turned to face you, he gently made you look up and smiled. “I love you, and you alone.” He explained. “I’m not doing this for curtesy or for political purposes. I am infatuated with you. I am devoted to you,” He explained further. He cupped your face gently and placed his forehead on yours. “I’ll remind you, no matter how many times it takes. I love you, I love you, I love you,” He said as he kissed your forehead. “Alright?” He said as he pulled away. You responded to his advances and he chuckled. He loves your reaction, no matter what it would be.

“I have a place to show you,” He said as he held you hand. He opened the door to the left to reveal a beautiful garden. You had a garden in your castle as well, but this was something else. Everything seems so familiar and close but you knew that this was the first time you were here. “This is so pretty,” You responded as you looked around. As your eyes wander, it was hard to keep track of all the details. There were statues, lamps, and even floating lanterns. The flowers were so pretty and arranged in such a way that all of them could shine in their own way. Each of them had a different meaning and so different yet together, they seem so unified. There was fairy lights to light up the place. It gave it a more fantasy output. It gave enough light to see the path but also dim enough not to disturb the nocturnal animals. A perfect balance, Kuroo thought this through well. “That’s not all,” Daichi said as he led you further inside. You looked around and saw night butterflies or better known as moths. “Don’t worry, we are just passing by,” He reassured. As you passed by the moths, you realized how pretty they are. Some were brown in color but some were even blue and green. It gave a sense of nostalgia. The memories of childhood came flooding in.

But passing the flower area, in front of you was an arch way. It was covered in plants and seemed to be old but still very sturdy. With Daichi leading you, you felt safe. It was an unfamiliar place but it still felt nostalgic. The flowers that hang from the arc, the leaves that sway with the wind. The night gave an unfamiliar feel to this majestic garden. When Daichi finally stopped leading you, you looked at what was in front of you. It was large empty gazebo surrounded by flowers. Specifically, the flowers were different colored tulips. And within the flowers there were fake tulips that light up like fairy light. The vines that were attached on the supports made it look even more majestic.

“Here we are,” Daichi said as he smiled. But there was two people about to go out. “Ah, Daichi, a pleasure,” Oikawa said as he pulled his lover close. “Oikawa, it’s a coincidence seeing you here,” Daichi replied. As the two briefly talked, you and his lover looked at each other. “Is your idiot this tense or?” She asked as she looked at you. “Idiot? Far from that but he isn’t this tense,” You replied with a soft smile. “Oh, thank the gods. I’m dealing with this idiot everyday so at least the others won’t struggle as much,” She playfully said. “You know I just prosed to you and this is how you treat me,” Oikawa then pouted. “Oh? Really? Congratulations for a new chapter in life, Oikawa,” Daichi said as he pulled you close. “Yeah now I have to spend my whole life with this handsome hunk of a man,” Oikawa’s lover said with a smile. You congratulated them and chatted for a while. “We’ll leave you two alone now. Trashykawa and I will go now. I deeply apologize for the intrusion,” The short female said as she held Oikawa’s hand. “We are about to get married in a month and this is how you treat me?” Oikawa then whined. “You better invite all of us, even Ushiwaka,” Daichi reminded. “Yeah yeah whatever,” The taller male then said as he disappeared with his lover.

“Now that they are gone, shall we continue?” Daichi asked. “We shall,” You added as you held his hand. You both went towards the gazebo and you were in awe. The roof of the gazebo had hanging stars and butterflies. You awed at the intricate design and the hanging decoration. “It’s pretty isn’t it?” Daichi said. “It really is,” You added. “But that is not the best part,” Daichi then said as he walked towards this box that is on a pedestal. He pressed on a button and soft music started playing. “Kuroo said that he installed this for those that want some privacy with their lovers,” Daishi said. He then started to walk towards you and offered his hand. “And so I asked If I could use it,” He continued. “May I have this dance, My queen?” He asked as he offered his hand. You accept his hand and he pulled you close. “I love you,” He said as he started dancing with you. “Don’t you ever forget that,” He added. He continued to lead you with the dance, making sure that you would be able to follow. “You don’t even try but you make me feel butterflies in my stomach,” He continued. As you both danced together, the wind blow making the hanging stars and butterflies dance with you.

The night continued with the two of you dancing the night away. Butterflies aren’t the only ones that dances beautifully.