#hes not the only character who that is true for

[redheadspark]

i would like for the june prompt to request benedict bridgerton with dialogue #1 and prompt #7

A/N - This is cute for Benedict! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Regret

Summary - Benedict always spoke from the heart, unless it was about his childhood crush

Warnings - Fluff :)

It started in your childhood.

Your family moved into the estate next to the Bridgerton home, being instantly welcomed by Violet Bridgerton and her plentiful children.  It amazed you to see 8 children at your doorstep, Violet at the helm of course, and making sure her children were all well-mannered in their introductions.  It was a contrast to your family, you being the only child and rather shy when it came to meeting new people, mostly your parent’s friends and associates.  

However, each one of the Bridgerton children was pleased to meet you: Serious and yet kind Anthony, boisterous and playful Benedict, sweet-natured Colin, friendly Daphne, intelligent Eloise, timid Francesca, and playful Gregory and Hyancith.  You were envious of them and how they were great siblings together, but they “adopted” you into their world so to speak.  You were invited over to play with them several times, thanks to the growing friendship of your parents and the Bridgerton Matriarch.  

One Bridgerton latched onto you rather quickly: Benedict.

Whether was his playful nature or his boyish charm, you fell for it all the same when you two would chase each other and read side by side in his parlor.  Although you were more of a reader than he was, he never minded reading with you since you were telling him all the good parts in the books that he would like.

“I thought there were pirates in this book!” 

“There is, you must wait for the good part, Benedict!  Or would you rather read it yourself?”

“No, I prefer your reading it to me!  You know the bigger words than me,”

Of course, your parents were trying to raise you into a proper young lady, and yet you would return home from a playdate at the Bridgerton home with mud on your dress and your hair askew.  It wasn’t Violet’s fault, you were the one who would sneak off to run around with Benedict or learn how to draw with him too.  He becomes your favorite Bridgerton as time goes on from childhood to pre-adolescent. 

You both would still read together, though it was mostly you reading out loud to him as he would rest his head in your lap. He loved hearing your voice, vent using different voices for the characters in the book and knowing how to make the action scenes exciting.  It was one of your favorite times of the day with him, the pair of you almost tucked up with one another in the parlor.  You love this company, his light heartiness when you were stressed and his eye for creativity when he would talk about his art.  

When he started drawing with charcoal, you saw a new shift in him, a new spark.  He would be hunched over his pad and charcoal stick, etching out nature or something more abstract.  You would watch in fascination while he would bring art to life, thinking of him as a genius as his fingers would be strain black and his smile to widen even more.  Sure, you would say every single piece of art he drew was amazing and mind-blowing, but it was true. You saw the passion in him and in how he drew the curves, 

It was Eloise who first planted the seed inside of Benedict as you left for your home for the day.  She leaned over to whisper to Benedict, “I sense you have a crush on our neighbor,”

Benedict was flushed, whipping his head over to his younger sister who smirked at him as he huffed, “What makes you say that?  I simply enjoy her company!”

“Yet you would let her read to you for hours on end when you wouldn't let me do the same for more than 5 minutes,” Eloise replied smoothly and with no hesitation, Benedict was quiet for a moment as she raised a brow at him, “I wouldn’t dwell on it too much since it would only bring you a headache,”

Benedict thought back on that conversation every once in a while, thinking back to those smaller moments when he would be next to you.  You were a breath of fresh air for him, someone who made him laugh constantly and would take on one of his rants and quirks.  It made him feel special to be with you for hours on, on how you would choose to be with him over any of the other Bridgerton Siblings.  

But as times passed and you both became teenagers, feelings started to shift on both sides.  You were finding him attractive, his dark brown hair and bright eyes, the way he laughed and joked daily, it was all becoming a crush that you could no longer ignore.  Even with the impending notion that you were going to come out and go to balls in hopes of finding yourself a suitor, later on, a husband, Benedict never left your mind.

It was just was same with the second eldest Bridgerton.  He watched you blossom from a young girl with gangly knees and smudged cheeks into a beautiful young lady...  Even as the pair of you still read together or did art together side by side, it was a shifting change of tides for Benedict to see you as more than a friend.  He too knew the life of young women coming out and making their singles known in upcoming balls and throughout the season, and the thought of some random stranger of a man taking you away from him sickened him. 

He wanted you to be on his arm, to call him your husband, to choose him every day, and beyond that.  To him, it was more than friendship and comradery, it was love.  He was deeply in love with you and he couldn’t picture his life without you.  Then he was petrified, not knowing what to tell you or how to tell you. 

But leave it to his older brother Anthony, who was good friends with you, to tell him exactly what he needed to hear:

“You will regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t the girl of your dreams how you feel,”

So during the ball, the third ball you’ve been to with your dance card filled to the brim with suitors and hopefuls, Benedict saw you into the crowd.  You were dancing with another bachelor, though the look of your face was proper yet uninterested.  Benedict felt his stomach drop to the ground from the view of you in your gown, your hair in its curls, and how you looked more radiant than the rest of the ladies in the ballroom.  To him, you were still the little girl who laughed and played with him, who encouraged him to grow in his art and told him to never give up on his passion.  

You were the little girl who stole his heart.

Finally, as the song was ending and the couple bowed to one another, Benedict made his move.  He weaved through the crowd and kept his eyesight on you, seeing you look a bit grimaced as the bachelor was still lingering and attempting some small talk on you.  Now he was moving a bit quicker, Benedict thinking that he had a small window to do what he wanted to do.  He finally made it to you, giving you a slight bow and seeing the suspicious look on your face as he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Apologies for interrupting, but I was told to accompany Ms. L/N to her parents for a serious discussion that cannot wait,” He explained, both yourself and the bachelor looking at each other in confusion.  But Benedict held out his arm for you to take, giving you a look to follow his lead.  You knew him well enough to take his arm and apologize to the potential suitor, yourself and Benedict walking away and moving out of the main crowd.  Benedict would see Anthony out of the corner of his eyes, a massive grin on his face as he was talking to his mother and your hand clutched his arm with uncertainty.

“Follow my lead,” He whispered to you, not wishing to cause a scene with the look you were giving him.  You nodded, remaining composed while he finally led the pair of you out to one of the main hallways that led to the garden.

Once you two were out of earshot and out of sight, you whirled around and glared at him, “What has gotten into you?”

“I have something I wish to say to you before it is too late,” He said to you, making you freeze from what he said and now look at him in confusion.  Benedict could only remember what his brother told you, how to tell you how he felt about you.  Seeing you there in front of him, looking beyond beautiful and radiant for him to only see for a few small moments.  He finally felt his heart settle in, and he opened his mouth.

“You have been a big part of my life, ever since we met as children.  You see me past my jokes and banter, you see me wishing to be myself and you accept it wholeheartedly.  I cannot deny how I feel as though I can fly every time you’re in the room, when you smile at me, simply looking at me.”  He explained, his lands slipping into your own as you were listening and watching him with undivided attention with your own heart beating fast and erratically.

“But seeing you tonight being pursued by others, others who do not know the real you and how authentic you are.  They see only one side of you when I have seen them all: when you nearly broke your wrist climbing after me as I went up a tree, when I taught you how to paint and sketch, and even when we first met so long ago.  We can’t go on like this.  Like friends is all we are.” He explained once again, his heart pouring out to you and perhaps he was lost in his own words.  Not realizing that you were grinning from ear to ear, that you were scooting a bit closer to him, that you were thinking the same thing too.

“It’s brash for me to tell you this since you probably have others who have already caught your affection and attention, and it must be worse since we have known each other for far too long to cause questions, but I am willing to take on any—“

You silenced him with a passionate kiss.

Benedict’s mind swept away as you were pressing against him and left your lips along his, his own passion for art was now dimmed and replaced with something ten times brighter.  At first, he thought that he was demeaning and this was something he made up within his own mind, but then again a dream would not feel this real.  Smelling the perfume that was on your skin your mother inside on your wearing, feeling the cooling touch of your dress against his fingertips that seemed so soft like a cloud, and the touch of your lips that would be his new favorite taste that he will never forget in his lifetime.

Yet it also seemed short-lived, you were about to pull away and Benedict inwardly feared that to happen.  So he tucked his fingers under your chin to keep you there, kissing you back softly and making you almost whimper from the kiss itself.  Benedict felt you smile, making him smile back as you pulled away to peer up at him.  He saw the shift in your eyes, how bright they were compared to before, and how they now almost glittered in candlelight.

“It took you long enough to do something, Mr. Bridgerton,” You teased, Benedict’s eyes going wide as you gigged and went on, “I thought I would be a spinster by the time you shared your feelings for me, and I would have said the same about you,”

“You….you had…now hold on!” Benedict questioned as you crossed your arms in front of yourself with slight annoyance, “You too had feelings for me?”

“Of course, I always had feelings for you!” You explained, seeing him cock his head in confusion while you gestured to yourself, “I would have thought you asked sooner to court me!”

“Oh,” He replied, you grinning back at him as he smiled liked a fool hopelessly in love, “Well…and I mean this with the utmost respect…why did you not voice your feelings for me before,”

You sighed, looking down rather sheepishly, “First, I was told it was unlady like.  And…I did not know if you mirror those affections as I did,”

Benedict saw the flushness of your cheeks, the inner conflict that you had to say how you felt.  He then realized that you both were tip-toeing around one another, willing to stay friends with one another, and having the ultimate fear of being rejected or seen as foolish.

So Benedict tucked his fingers under your chin again to coax you in for another kiss.  You took it willingly, leaning into him as the small light of the candles gave an ever-loving glow over the pair of you.  Almost a shield from the rest of the ball that seemed to have melted away as you kissed.  Feeling nothing but bliss floating between you two as you both were finally living out the dreams.

Neither of you noticed both Eloise and Anthony watching while they were hiding around the corner, both with massive rings on their faces.

The End

June Prompt Session

[erosiism]

A CASE OF REGRETS | YANDERE IMAGINES.

prompt: you die during a rebellion, and he turns back time for you in desperation | reader is childhood friends with claude (OC), both are planning a rebellion to usurp the throne.

character(s): duke, you

warnings(s): nil

note(s): male reader, second person, past tense, not beta read, excerpt from my fic on wattpad, to make amends

FIND MORE MOMENTS OF CLAUDE AND THE READER HERE.

"Y/n!"

Blood spurted out.

"Y/n!"

Your vision blurred.

"Oh gods, are you okay? Are you—"

Your ribs hurt: were they broken? Bloodied? You could certainly taste the horrible taste of iron present in your tongue. It was clear to you that somehow you were dying. That something had turned against you. That you were...

"Please, please, please—"

Through your muddled vision you could make out a figure. A familiar silhouette running towards you, legs stumbling in desperation, breaths ragged.

It was nice to know that when you died, someone would grieve for you. That someone would cry for you.

There was only one person in the world who cared so much for you.

"Claude," you murmured. There was a smile on your face. "There's no need to cry..."

"Y/n, please—no—"

"Save it." You sighed, "there's no way I'm going to be surviving this."

It was true. Blood jetted out of your wound in spurts, staining your tailored uniform with a bright, crimson hue. You had loved that color mainly because Claude had ruby eyes, but now it just seemed gruesome, horrid. Pain had simmered down into a steady brew, and you wondered if your pain tolerance had simply grown stronger, or it was a telling sign of your fading consciousness.

"You were such a brat last time." You murmured. "You used to throw tantrums and everything...for a while, I thought you despised me. Even when we became adults, you were still heartless, cold...so why do you weep for me? Why do you grieve my death?"

I was a fool last time, Claude thought silently. I was a fool. I was a fool not to have shown my affections last time.

Because the truth was plain and simple, written in ink, written in the stars: Claude adored you. Was it not you who had held his hand in the gardens for strolls? Was it not you who accompanied him throughout, was it not you who could make him crack a smile, make him laugh? It had been all you. Every single joyous moment he had was caused by you. When he had finally received the title of the Duke. When he had finally defeated his family and his foes.

But Claude had been so wrapped up in his own troubles he had failed to notice your problems. Your dastardly family. Your...

He had neglected your wellbeing—he hadn't seen your deteriorating state, your weakening smile—he hadn't see any of that. He had been self obsessed, too engrossed in his own matters that he hadn't even—

Claude had taken too long to warm up to you. He could have been sweeter earlier. Made your life easier, no matter what it was. Claude had taken a while to truly open his heart to you: he had been rude, ungracious, curt. And you had been patient. Endlessly patient with him.

"We can save you," Claude said desperately, "we can."

You laughed. A tinkling, magical sound—but at that moment, it was so damned. So fucking painful to hear the cracks inside, the strain hiding inside the tone.

He knew it would be the last time he would ever heard it.

"You are the Emperor. You finally reclaimed your right to the throne. You finally..."

"Y/n," he whispered.

You shook your head.

"You achieved everything you sought for."

Perhaps he did. But the thing he truly wanted had been in front of him this whole time and he had been blind. Utterly blind.

And he would never forgive himself for that.

The tears slipped. His voice felt suffocated; choking.

"Don't cry," you touched his cheek gently and that pulled Claude temporarily out of his panic—"don't cry, alright? It was inevitable, Your Grace. Don't cry. The future Emperor doesn't cry."

Your Grace. Even then, you hadn't referred to him by his name. If he had another chance—just one singular chance—

He would allow you to call him by his name.

You were his everything.

You're my heart, Y/n.

If you die, then that would make me heartless.

There was so much blood, Claude realized. Coating his palms, running down your back. So much of its thick texture, its color, all drenched. Every single bit drenched—

Why was there so much blood? It wasn't his. He  wasn't unhurt, really. He wasn't that well off, but not to your extent. You sounded so tired when you spoke, so faint. So weak. You could have disappeared any second. Claude held you in your arms softly, gently—you could disappear any moment, your breaths wavering and quivering.

No, no, no.

I love you, Claude thought deliriously. I love you. I love you. I love you so much—

The voice grew and became stronger; louder even as you grew cold. Claude rocked you even when your hands fell, holding one to his own cheek. Your hands still had the faintest bit of warmth. He clung onto it desperately; motionless with the tears dried up with his throat feeling like sandpaper.

You can't leave me, he'd thought deliriously, hugging you close and rocking you again and again and again, you can't leave me.

Y/n L/n, I love you too much to let you go.

.

.

Claude had failed to save you. In front of him, your beauty was still visible in his eyes; your (h/c) hair, your (e/c) eyes—because of his arrogance, his incompetence, you had unfairly died. He had not noticed the blooming feelings in his stomach until you had been cold in his arms, and his tears had splattered on your cheek.

The universe has been cruel to you.

He had stood by your side and had watched you suffer and suffer and suffer; and for what? Only for the gods to turn their back on you? What was the point, really? Claude had been with you this whole time. Had seen the sacrifices you poured in, had seen—

He should have been the one that died, Claude despaired. Not you. Never you.

That night he couldn't sleep. The place was too empty without you. He had been crowned Emperor. But there was no you to accompany him by his side.

There was...absolutely no point.

Why was he even alive at this rate? Claude wondered. Everything would go back to life before you. Tedious. Long. Meaningless.

"Your Majesty, the Empire—"

"—do whatever you want." Claude rasped out. "Just...just..."

Please. If the Gods are listening. Please, please—

Turn back time. For me, for Y/n.

For...

[ The Gods have heard your prayers ]

.

.

Turning back time was unheard of. Something in the legends. Something Claude didn't believe in. Yet when he woke up—there had been disappointment in him, he had assumed that this was heaven yet you were nowhere in sight—there was the familiar surroundings of a room.

Not the Emperor's bedroom.

The bedroom from the manor he once lived when he was the illegitimate son of the Duke.

I must be dreaming, Claude thought. There was a flicker of hope he didn't dare to believe in. I must be dreaming of the happier times and the million what ifs.

Pain was tugging at his heart. It was painful. Everything was painful...

"—don't bother him. He just recovered from a sickness."

What?

What?

Delusional. Hallucinating. Delirious. To hear your sweet, sweet voice in such a dream—perhaps this was heaven after all. Claude didn't ever want to wake up. He didn't.

Because you were there. In front of him.

He sucked in a breath.

As sweet, as polite as he remembered. Every inch of his face had been committed to his memory. Every contour, every line. He had mapped you out in his head and had aligned you with the thousands of dazzling stars in the universe because you were the reason he bothered to continue living. Because you had become his reason for living.

You stood, in regal attire, with your posture as graceful as he had remembered. The sunlight streamed in through the paneled windows, caressing your features and alighting upon your lashes. He swallowed, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Ah, you are awake, Your Grace." You smiled at him.

"Y/n L/n," he said finally. "Y/n L/n." It's been so long since he could say this name to someone who would hear and respond to it. So many times he called your name out of your desperation in vain: hoping for some sort of hallucination to pop up, for some sort of inkling that your voice would carry over to his ears.

And you smiled.

Smiled.

Smiled.

Smiled—

Claude reached out to you and buried his face into your clothes.

You gave a startled smile.

.

.

The Duke had done a 180 complete turn.

"Y/n," he spoke with uncharacteristic fondness that you just didn't understand, "you are..."

Tears. There were tears on his cheek. Had you done anything to offend him? You thought not.

"Your Grace..." you reached out to brush his forehead with your fingers, "are you alright? You don't seem to have a fever."

Claude stared at you with wide eyes.

"Oh," You heard him say, and then, "you are as beautiful as I remembered."

What?

"Your Grace, are you really sure you are fine—"

Claude dashed forward, not even registering your words. He crushed you in his arms, a hand in your hair, head buried in his neck. He missed this. This warmth and this scent. Home, home. It's the smell of home. It's the smell of you. It's you. It's you. It's you. 

It worked, he thought. It worked. It fucking worked. I traveled back in time. 

"... Well then," you gave a small chuckle, confused upon what was happening, "it's a relief to see you have awoken—why are you crying?"

"You're here," Claude breathed, his first tangible words since his return. "You're here."

"Of course I'm here, Your Grace." You looked at him with confusion etched all over your features, frowning. "What's wrong? You..."

The Duke was looking at you like you were the only one that mattered in the world. And that—

Wow. What kind of coma did he have, to be behaving so peculiarly?

You wiped his tears, sighing and fussing.

"You know what—never mind. Tell me later—why are you still crying, Your Grace?"

Claude held onto you tighter.

Maybe he had bad dreams in his coma, you thought. He was holding on to you like you were a lifeline. Like you would disappear any second, any minute.

As though he would never let go of you again.

You patted the Duke's head gently, slowly, fingers running through his hair. "Don't cry. The future Emperor doesn't cry."

Those words. It was so hauntingly painful to him.

Claude didn't want to remember anymore. He didn't  need to remember. He had succeeded. The Gods had listened to him. You were alive and breathing, in front of him. You were—

Alive.

reblog/like the post! comments are appreciated even if you read this before :)

[dicenete]

I repainted his face more times than probably necessary but something always caught my eye and still does, but it is done. is done. It's fine. xD IkePri Tagteam:

@scummy-writes @goustmilk @solacedeer @m-mmiy @mxrmaid-poet

@pawnkyyy @ludivineikewolf @violettduchess @floydsteeth @wistfulwanderingone

@sh0jun @lorei-writes

A little bit of rambling of him below the break, spoilers (Keith's route, and little bit of Nokto's route) and such :0 so you have been warned.

TL;DR: I enjoyed the route despite its questionable elements. MC is too forgiving at times, but other than that, romanctic route was cute. Licht, the third wheel, was funny but sad.

Okay first about Keith's visual design: I really love how his design is the most asymmetrical from the suitors. Like the jacket and the vest he has. The jacket is very interestingly layered, almost like you aren't sure which part is the main thing and what is the accent. The green or the gold? The host or the alter? : D Same with his vest. His duality is battling in his clothing too hahaha

Keith's route was interesting. I had heard lots of differing opinions about it and I had my own reservations.

One mainly about the portrayal of DID and how the route does it. First things first: I'm not an expert at all. I won't even humor the idea that I had any say in anything regarding it. But overall, it could have been worse? Of course it might be very extreme in the way Alter Keith is hostile towards Host Keith. And of course you shouldn't take this as the only way the alter systems work. But as I said: I'm not an expert.

I had heard that the dramatic route follows Alter Keith and romantic route host Keith. I picked the romantic one. I had my personal reasons for that tho. But aside from that, it was nice to be with Keith that who struggled with self-worth. It was nice to see him grow as a character and find that strength to stand up for himself. (The fact that the host Keith seems to think that he is inferior to Alter Keith and that people would prefer the alter over him. The amount of stress that will bring. )

Keith's uncle was your very generic villain/antagonist without any real depth. He was a spoiled noble and so on. But since this was more about Keith inner journey I thought it was fine that it was like that.

The drugging scene… Well. That's a… a topic. Hmm… Host Keith himself felt very guilty about it and was full of remorse. Not that it was his choice to do it. Alter Keith well… He might justify it because he was gathering information about a rumor that might endanger his home country and people if it were true. I kinda can see where he is coming from, but also...IT CERTAINLY WAS DESTROYING OF TRUST. Like that time when Nokto "accidently" gets MC drunk. but hey ho. Since there is limited time frame for the chapters, I do understand they can't really jam all the things there, but I wanted Belle be more angry with him with Alter Keith for longer.

Maybe that's what bugs me sometimes. That Belle/Emma/MC is sometimes too forgiving and too much of a doormat. It works in routes like Yves and Licht (from the routes I have played, Leon seems like the most respectable gentleman too), because they are not being insulting towards her. I would even think that she works with Clavis, tho I would love to see him with someone who shares his chaotic gremlin energy. But with characters like Chev, Silvio or Alter Keith the their "power" doesn't feel balanced. MC seems to be completely on their mercy even if they stand up to them in some way. (Gilbert is another can of nasty things.)(With Chev's route, well, that is also a rambling for another time. But I haven't finished his route yet. so I will keep my ramblings to myself for now.)

Is Keith's route more about acceptance then? Accepting the good and the bad of a person? Possibly. I would think that is a good way to put it. Both Keiths have good and bad sides. And it seems that they are working on them.

[rosemaryblossomworld]

Reaction. That throne belongs to me!

The characters' reactions to Y/n's phrase, during the hearing, "Go to hell! That throne belongs to me! Not some drunken half-blood! I am the purest blood of the Targaryen line!" (The reader is the daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon, but she is introduced as Laenor's daughter).

✧.* Y/n: She's tired of being treated like a bastard. And they forget that she is the pureblood heir to the throne. She knew Laenor wasn't her father, and the whole court knew it. The older she gets, the more she resembles her own father. Now it's her turn to defend herself and her family!

✧.* Rhaenyra: She didn't expect the argument over Driftmark to turn into an insult to her children. The princess thought it foolish of Vaemond to draw the court's attention to her children's appearance. Her boys might not have taken on her features, but here was her eldest daughter! Rhaenyra was happier than ever, rejoicing that she had slept with her uncle that night and that they had a beautiful child. She stood behind her daughter and felt protected.

✧.* Daemon: He smiled. He had seen his daughter lose her temper for the first time, but the way her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw clenched, her posture and her clenched fists reminded him of himself as a teenager. His little princess had become a warrior, ready to repel any attack. The prince gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, preparing to cut off the head of anyone who dared to harm his child.

✧.* Alicent: She squirmed and tried to hide her excitement, but she chewed her lips and discreetly peeled the skin off her fingers. She looked at Aegon and realized that she could only brag about the fact that he had white hair and light eyes, the same as Y/N. She closed her eyes, trying to escape the situation.

✧.* Otto: gritted his teeth. For long months he had planned Y/n's death; she was a true heiress, just like Rhaenyra, and she had interfered greatly with his plans. The man was just glad that both heiresses were women! No one would choose them! But when he looked into the eyes of the young princess, glowing with dragon fire, his courage slowly faded.

✧.* Vaemond: He remained silent, realizing that he had said a foolish thing, directed at all of Rhaenyra's heirs, forgetting the young white-haired beast!

✧.* Rhaenys: She just nodded and smiled in agreement. She knew that Y/n wasn't Laenor's child, but he had raised her and she saw his words afterwards as 'her granddaughter'.

✧.* Jace: grinned contentedly. He watched the faces of the nobles change, and it made him want to laugh! He panicked as he noticed Vaemond looming menacingly over his sister. He looked over to see Daemon clutching his sword, so he followed suit, ready. He wouldn't let anyone hurt his sister!

✧.* Luca: pressed his lips together, he didn't like this 'event' from the beginning. He was unsure of many things. The boy feared for his older sister who had moved away from them and was already in the middle of the throne room.

✧.* Baela: clenched her fists and was ready to come out and stand next to Y/n, but Rhaena grabbed her under the arm at such a bad time.

✧.* Rhaena: She just held her sister back and looked at Y/N to make sure she was okay.

✧.* Aemond: Only a blind man would not notice his smile. He was looking at this doting figure standing opposite the great, angry Vaemond, ready to attack the old man. In all the years he has known this storm, she has never ceased to amaze him. Maybe that's why she's his favorite.

✧.* Aegon: He was only smiling drunkenly and wanted to end this "game" quickly. A jug of good Dornish wine awaits him in his chambers, and perhaps a meeting on Silk Street. If Y/n became the heir, he would be doubly happy, since he had no interest in the throne. He had talked to his mother about it and was ready to give the throne to his younger brother, but for some reason he refused.

✧.* Helena: She felt uncomfortable. There were too many people and too many emotions, so she blinked a lot and made a face. And the situation itself didn't bother her much, she had lost the point of this meeting long ago and was somewhere far away in her thoughts. She often dreamed about Y/n, but until now she couldn't understand the meaning of her dreams.

୨⎯ ୨⎯ 𝒷𝑜𝓃𝓊𝓈 ⎯୧ ⎯୧

"Or is the problem that I am a woman? Or the fact that your significant other, Otto Hightower, will not be on the throne?" Y/n glared defiantly at the man sitting on the throne.

"I would ask... "The man pursed his lips unhappily.

"What if I told you something that could close those two points?" the princess smiled.

"What could it be, silly girl?"

"Let's see... I spent the night with Prince Aemond Targaryen!"

The court erupted in shouts of indignation and surprise.

As Y/N stood next to her mother, she looked into eyes full of surprise and fear.

"What are you..." Rhaenyra couldn't get her thoughts together.

"What? You're the one who said we should team up with the Greens, I found a quick way" Y/N hummed and shrugged.

Daemon couldn't help himself and laughed all over the hall.

[starillusion13]

Yunho×reader fic,where yn is divorced from mingi,and yunho is also divorced(Both are recently divorced).

Mingi wants yn back,so he calls her to meet in a resto,but there she meets yh who is an old frnd,they greet e/o. Mg gets a Lil jealous....(This was just a beginning in my head)

Can u make it plz(if u hav time)

Never Yours

Pairing: bff!Yunho x f! reader (husband! Mingi x wife! reader: divorced)

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, bff2l

Warning: Mingi is a toxic husband here, using reader’s feelings, neglecting and ignoring the reader…basically he is a bad guy who doesn’t know how to care for others. Shouting in public, divorce, bestfriends to lovers, confession, fluffy moments. Except for the angst scenes, everything is pretty normal.

W.C: 4.6k Network: @k-vanity

[Please read the note in the end.]

🫧

“y/n, this is not working how I wanted.”

How he wanted…

Your husband’s sudden serious tone made you look towards the entrance of your bedroom, knowing all the unspoken words behind that particular sentence. Not working--- nothing works between you two after the marriage. Why didn’t one of you think about this before everything started? It started out as a normal hangout with both of you meeting each other at Yunho’s house and that’s how some common topic sparked a connection between you and Mingi.

Yunho has been your best friend since elementary school and when he found out about your little affection towards his friend, he obviously supported your feelings, of course hiding his own behind the smile.

Still, he warned you about Mingi’s irrational behaviors and his characters that he and other friends find a bit problematic to deal with. But you ignored these comments. Love is blind. You never noticed that Mingi’s attraction towards you was not out of love but a pure obsession. He observed his friend’s subtle glances towards you and your oblivion self not noticing the obvious state of your best friend. And that’s how he took the best opportunity to approach you, to get so near to you that it made Yunho distant even farther from where he was.

Mingi is always a step ahead from his friend and so he successfully blocked Yunho’s perspectives from your eyes. He treated you like a princess in his university days. You three were always seen together but after getting into the relationship with the youngest one, Yunho made himself busy with joining a painting class. You are well aware of his passion for paintings and pouring his emotions into it.

Three years of university love led to the day of marriage.

You still remember the look Yunho gave you when he handed you an invitation card on the day of your wedding. Your confused eyes staring at him earned a chuckle and he patted your head, “come to my wedding……with Mingi.”

“your wedding? All of a sudden?”

He gulped and nodded before turning around and disappearing into the crowd of people spread across the grand hall. Mingi came up beside you, snaking a hand around your waist, following your way of vision, finding no one particular in sight and glancing towards the envelope in your hold.

“What's this, love?”

He noticed your absence of response and pulled you closer to repeat the question when you glanced at him and to your hand, “Yunho’s wedding invitation card.”

He smiled, “oh…he is marrying? So sudden?”

“yeah, I asked him about this but he didn’t say anything.”

He kissed the side of your head, “let’s not think about this. This is our day.”

Yeah, that was the only last day when it felt like yours.

You loved Mingi with all your heart but for him it was all just a game of obsession. To win everything over his friend. Not into marriage for more than a year, he started to show his hidden true self which was all hidden behind his façade of love.

The glints of his unusual behavior were all displayed in front of you since the first day but you never cared to notice them because you loved him. you wanted him as a part of your life. You wanted his love.

You noticed him staying outside the house longer than usual. Him ignoring your texts and calls and blaming you for the roughness in your relationship.

The same remark—the relationship between you both is not working how he wanted. How did he want it? And what about your side? Does he care to listen to you? Simply, No.

He never cared for you. You were a bait for his pride. Getting the most popular girl of the campus and the beautiful girlfriend making him a lucky bastard in his friend’s group was all he wanted. The hurt and lost expression on Yunho’s face was enough to boost his ego. Smirking to himself, he pats his friend’s back, “get a girl, dude. You look so lonely these days. What happened?”

Yunho would glance at his friend and just smile.

 ‘You took away the most precious part of my life.’

.

.

.

It’s been six months that you have parted your ways with Mingi. One might wonder how you got out of his obsession. Lily, the only daughter of the rich business partner, offered a huge deal of money and who is he to ignore the offer. His statement that you both are not working together leads to the divorce between you two. You didn’t question him and never tried to reason to try it in a different way.

You didn’t even cry because all those sleepless nights and hopeless days have not left a single piece of feelings to stay back in yourself. You left his house without turning towards him for the last time. And he didn’t even call you back when you closed the door behind your back.

It was a Saturday afternoon when you were chatting with your school friend when you suddenly got a text from a person whom you didn’t want to keep in touch with but somehow it turned out that it was not the same from his end.

‘Can you meet me today?’

Why? You wanted to ask him. your fingers trembled and tears slid down your cheeks, remembering how he texted you for the first time after he got your number.

‘Hey! It’s nice to meet you.’

You should not have proceeded your friendship from that part. You should have just remained as a passing stranger or a casual friend. 

You stared at the message of him texting you to meet him today. All of a sudden? Why? You don’t know, not even having a hint of the meaning of his text. Before you could dwell on the thought more, your phone started vibrating, indicating you had a call. The same person. Your mind didn’t process what to do further and you swiped the call button to green.

“hello, y/n.”

Why does his voice still have the same effect on you like it had during the university days? Why is he making you regret leaving him? Why do you still care for him? why?

Why can’t you forget him?

“Mingi…”

“Are you free today?” His voice was low and he was patiently speaking to you as if there was no hurry like the other days when he didn’t have a bit of a time to look at you for a second.

“yes.”

“can you please meet me today at your favorite restaurant?”

“but we are no longer like before. Don’t forget you gave up on me.” you pressed your lips tight and prevented yourself from crying into the call. You couldn’t let him know about your weakness. You don’t want to feel stupid, the way you were stupid in love with him. even though you wanted to say so many things to him yet you decided to stay silent, hearing him calling your name when your tears were flowing down your cheeks.

“please…we should talk about everything. You didn’t utter a word when you left me.”

I left him? And he did nothing? It was not his fault? He is not guilty for anything. So he is blaming you for all these?

“There's nothing to talk about. we are done.”

“please. I want to say sorry.” He quickly murmured his apology when you denied to meet him.

After a few more requests, you agreed to meet him in the evening. When you agreed to meet him, he quickly cut the call. As expected from him. Why did you agree to meet him? Are you out of your mind? What will you do? What will you say after meeting him? you don’t know but still you want to clear your mind off and there’s so much to confront him.

Back of your head hit the mattress and your blank eyes staring at the ceiling, when the thought of your best friend came across your mind. After both of your marriages, you never contacted him because he changed his contact details, isn't active on social media and also moved to a different country with his wife. Mingi doesn’t like you to have contact with any other boy and so you didn’t want to try to contact him.

The last shared moment between you both was—

“Congratulations, Yunho. I wish you a great and happy life ahead.”

He smiled and rested his palm over your cheek, thumb caressed the skin and his eyes following how your eyes were sparkling and you were smiling brightly at him. you were glowing in front of him.

“I hope you are happy, y/n.”

no other shiny thing could compare your radiance and he knew one thing.

Mingi is really a lucky bastard. He always gets everything whatever he wanted before him.

How is Yunho doing out there? He must be very happy with his wife. It’s been two years since you have last seen him, talked to him.

.

.

.

A simple straight peach coloured knee length dress with a little no-makeup look with your hairs resting on your shoulder, you reached the restaurant.

As soon as you entered the glass doors, you looked around to find the familiar face which you swore once to never come across again but here you are searching for him again. You stopped in your tracks when you found him sitting at the table near the wide window. You took a step back when you found him smiling with someone on the call and you thought to turn around and return back home.

But your trance broke when someone held your forearm and whispered your name, “y/n…”

You quickly glanced to your side, eyes going wide when you noticed who the person was.

“Yunho… is this real?”

He nodded and left your hand when he noticed the table at the far end where you were looking at previously. But to his surprise, you hugged him and pressed your face against his chest, “ I missed you, Yunho. Where were you all these years?”

Hesitatingly, he raised his hand to pat your head. The warmth of your body against him, the tears staining his shirt and your fist clutching him. the main reason for your tears was meeting him after years or you were overwhelmed with Mingi’s apology?

Actually you wanted an embrace in which you could cry. And you chose to let your heart out to Yunho in spite of Mingi. He caressed your hair, few people glanced in your direction but neither you nor Yunho cared about it. He was desperate to know everything from you, he could feel that you were crying not only because of him but there’s something more you were hiding. He knows you too well, more than yourself.

When his eyes again went to that table, he saw the raging eyes glaring back at him. Mingi was not happy with the moment you both were sharing. As if you would love the moment with him. He stood straight from his chair, keeping his eyes fixed on you and started walking towards you.

Yunho averted his eyes from his friend and looked down at you, stroking your hair, he whispered, “y/n, Mingi is here. He doesn’t like us to meet like this.”

You shook your head in his embrace, refusing to part from him when he tried to pull you back. He was confused yet deep down he wanted to hold you close like this the whole day. Whatever he wants with you is always achieved by his friend and it makes him feel jealous to say less. He wants to steal you from him. even if it’s possible. What about you? Would you like to accept him the way he wants you?

“Yunho, long time no see. How come you are here in this country? Vacation?”

Mingi’s voice bloomed in the light chatter of the people surrounding you. As a reactive action, you pulled apart from Yunho and stayed beside him, looking down and collecting your composure.

Yunho forced a little smile and nodded, “yeah. I’m on a vacation, just to spend time in my home country for a while and then go back.” You could hear a hidden hurt in his voice, you both have spent so much time to notice this even after so many years.

“Where is your wife? I don’t think she would like to see you here being so close to another woman.” Mingi had a mockery in his tone. He never leaves a chance to make Yunho realize that you are not his and never would be.

Yunho cleared his throat and replied, “we are divorced.”

Divorced?

“divorced?” your soft voice made him look at you and he smiled before patting your head. His usual activity whenever something problematic is going on in your life or his and he would pat your head as a sign not to worry about it. He would be fine and could handle it on his own. “What happened, Yunho?”

Mingi chuckled irritatedly. You mentally scoffed at the audacity of him laughing at the situation.

“don’t worry about him, y/n. I suppose he will get another one.”

“Shut up, Mingi. Don’t think everyone is like you. I wonder how you both are friends when he is so unlike you.”

“y/n-“

“no, Yunho. Let me speak. I have had enough. Enough of him.” you raised your voice making the oldest quiet and confused while the youngest one had a wide smirk on his face. He was enjoying the scene you were creating in front of all the people in the restaurant. You could feel the stares and low whispers all around but you were on your spot and wouldn’t let this chance slip to make him realize, “stop your games here, Mingi. Nothing is serious to you in this life. You seem to believe everyone and everything to be working according to you. No, it’s not. You are wrong here.”

“and what makes my wife believe that this is wrong?” Mingi folded his hands and titled his head when he chuckled, clearly amused by your act.

You hissed and grabbed the collar of his black shirt and glared, “I am not your wife anymore. Don’t forget that you and I are not related anymore. And I regret the fact that I even have to associate myself to you as your ex-wife. I regret everything. I regret my six years because of being with you. You destroyed my life, Mingi.”

Ex-wife…you are divorced. This news was shocking to Yunho and the way he was looking at you didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He clenched his jaw when he felt that he still has that adoration and love in his eyes for you. Tears were flowing down your eyes and you cared less for your appearance because you wanted to care for your heart which was lost in an endless feeling of hurt.

“Because of you, I did everything that you have told me. I have loved you so much that I distanced myself from everyone because you never liked others to be around me. I was blind to notice that you wanted me as your puppet and all you wanted to show off to others. You have used me in every step of your life, in the end, you blamed me that our relationship is not working because of me. It's because it's not working how you wanted. And what about me? Have you ever thought about what I even wanted? Why did you make me dream of things which you will never be part of? Why Mingi why?”

You were shouting at this point and Mingi was losing his temper hearing your words. Each word slipping out your mouth was irritating him. He himself knew that you were not his love but his obsession. A game to win. To win over Yunho.

“what the fuck are you saying, y/n? be in your limits.”

“I won’t.”

“y/n-“

 A loud sound echoed in the area. You slapped him. the thing which you would have done long ago. You don’t know from where you got the sudden courage today but you were proud of yourself to not hesitate to let it all out. You needed this and now a little relief settled inside you.

But the thing you didn’t expect is an arm wrapping around your shoulders and a pair of lips touching the side of your head with a whisper, “My good girl.” Looking towards the owner, you realized Yunho was smiling at you but before you could say anything he looked back at Mingi and glared.

“I suppose this hurts your ego and image so if you still want to insult yourself you can stay here. But I won’t let her be here anymore, especially with you. I don’t know what exactly happened between you two but I know for her happiness and to see her smile, I can do anything.” Yunho pointed a finger at his friend, “and I won’t ever let a single drop of tears fall from her eyes. And the things you did to her, I will make you regret it.”

“She is not yours.” Mingi rubbed his cheek and brushed his shirt. Mingi smirked when he saw the fuming rage of Yunho hearing his statement but Yunho chuckled, making you both confused.

“and you couldn’t keep her as yours.”

When the youngest extended his hand to grab your bicep, Yunho grabbed his wrist and clenched his jaw, “don’t even fucking touch her. Get lost from here.” He breathed heavily and continued, “I don’t fucking care where you want to go but we are leaving this place right now.”

“Yunho-“

“Keep quiet, y/n. we are leaving unless you want to repeat the mistake again.” He has never spoken to you in such a low and demanding way. He waited for your move to see if you refused to go away from him but you squeezed his hand tight and nodded, which as a signal to him, he smirked at Mingi.

He took your hand in his and turned around but as soon as he stepped outside the glass doors, he pointed at a particular car and told you to go there and he would be coming in two minutes. The hesitation of being left alone was well aware to him and he himself didn’t want to leave you but he had to go inside for once. Eventually you stepped towards the car and his eyes followed until you stood beside it and looked at him. He gave you a smile and went inside the doors again, he met Mingi on the way and stopped him.

“why the hell are you here?” Mingi asked in a frustrated way.

Yunho chuckled and patted his shoulder, “just to let you know one final thing. Even if you tried to win her over me. she was never yours. She was always mine to start with and I got her back from you.” Giving a final smile, he went back to his car.

As soon as he reached near it, he saw you petting a cat and wiping your tears.

“y/n…let’s go somewhere.”

You stood up straight and furrowed your brows, “where? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“y/n, have I ever told you that you are a bother to me? ever in this whole life since the day we first met in our childhood.” He smiled softly and cupped your cheeks. You shook your head and smiled when he planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

It took almost thirty minutes to arrive at the cliff. Both of your favorite places and the place where you could relive your memories. You were lost in your thoughts until he opened the door for you and extended his hand with a smile on his face.

Standing at the edge of the cliff, you let the fresh cold air caress your face with closed eyes. Yunho was enjoying the city view from where he was leaning against his car and his way of vision stopped at you, a smile automatically spread across his face. He admires you a lot…hell…he loves you a lot.

“y/n…”

“How is life, Yunho? Is it different from how you thought?” you asked him and turned towards him, mimicking his posture against the car.

He bit his lips and looked up at the sky, “I don’t know. I felt like I was lost when you got married.” He looked towards you and smiled, “I felt I am nothing without you.”

You laughed at him, if it were other times, you would have teased him for these lines but somehow neither of you were joking right now and you both were well aware of this. You are lost without him too.

“Me too.” You breathed out.

He furrowed his brow, “what do you mean?”

You took his hand and stared at it. The size difference between you both always makes you smile and it still has the same effect on you, “I have not seen you for years and today I feel like I got myself back again. Thank you.”

“what happened between you and him?” he was hesitant to ask but still as your best friend, he felt like asking you, to know what made you two separate…for good. At Least he was glad that you got to know about his real intentions maybe.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” your sudden question perked his ear up and he inhaled when your innocent childish face flashed in front of his eyes…the first time he saw you in the school courtyard. He nodded, “yes.”

“did you feel like you got everything you wanted?”

I got you but you never were mine.

“Maybe…” he wanted to say more than a word but your questions were puzzling his mind and not getting the answers he wanted. “But why are you asking me this?”

“coz Yunho…I felt like I was in paradise when I fell in love with Mingi. I had everything and I was happy…but I didn’t realize it was all just an illusion to trap me in his game. I was blind for him. I ignored you for him. I gave up everything for him. I couldn’t differentiate between right and wrong. I was lost in a void of lie. I-“

He pulled you in front of him and hugged you tight, pressing a long kiss on top of your head, “I know, y/n…it’s okay. You are here with me. We are here together. He can’t separate us again.”

“he was everything to me…but I was never his.”

“but you are always mine. Sorry if I’m late.” His arms around you tightened and your hold faltered. Mine?

You looked up and he was smiling but still you could see tears, “why are you crying, Yunho? Aren’t you my strong boy?” you wiped his tears. You haven’t seen him so weak in front of you. In childhood days, he had cried to you so many times but as you both grew up, he became a tougher and stronger guy, hiding his emotions behind his smile and always distracting you from all the negativity by his goofy side.

“I love you, y/n. I love you so much. Fuck…whenever you are with me, I feel like to keep you away from everyone. Today, after all these years, I realized how much I love you even more than I could realize. I think about you everyday. I have loved you everyday and I don’t why you are the only one who can make me feel like this.”

You cupped his cheek and he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of your palm, “I married her to get over the fact that I was deeply in love with you. Seeing you in the bridal look made me realize that you won’t be ever mine. I have lost you. You were standing there in the most mesmerizing look with a hope in your sparkling eyes for him…not for me.”

“Yunho…”

He opened his eyes to meet your starry eyes under the night sky, “you could have said to me earlier.”

“but I was never yours.”

“And I was never his. I was just an obsession.” Tears fell from your eyes.

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, “but you are my dream. Everyday I felt like to fall asleep forever just to see you for once where you are mine.”

“kiss me, Yunho. Don’t wait any more, you have already wasted these years. Before you lose me forever, make me yours. Make me feel like how it is to be someone’s dream.” You smiled before he pulled you in a kiss.

A kiss for which he waited from the day he tried to confess to you.

So this is how it’s like to be yours, y/n.

The slow rhythm of lips, the desire in each other’s embrace, the warmth of love, the admiration in their eyes and moreover the love they can feel in the kiss. The cold air surrounding the warm embrace they were sharing under the dark night with twinkling stars like the twinkling hope for each other.

Parting from the kiss, he pecked your lips and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t want to lose you ever. From now on, wherever you go, I go.”

“I love you, Yunho. I should have realized this back then when I had a crush on you but I always thought that you were interested in other girls and I was just a best friend. I was so shocked that you never told me about your lover but suddenly handed me your wedding invitation.”

“I never loved her.”

“So you only married her to forget me. Using her?” You stared at his brown orbs and glanced how his brown hair was blowing in the wind.

He shook his head, “no. She knew it already. She even stayed up late at night when I couldn’t fall asleep. She was a good person and I helped her to run away with her lover. It was all planned to settle in a different country.”

“Thank you, Yunho. You still remained as a good person, a person I fell in love with. I don’t want to lose you too. You are perfect, Yunho and this hurts me.”

“You are my perfect dream.”

“But I exist in reality.” You chuckled lightly and he laughed heartily before pulling you to his chest.

You tightened your grip around his body when he hummed and resteda his chin on top of your head, “tell me I am not dreaming like always and you are finally mine. I am yours and he didn’t snatch you away from me.”

You kissed his chest, “even if this is a dream. Let’s not wake up together. Let’s be like this forever and dream of each other like this. You are mine and I’m yours, Yunho.”

“I always felt like I was never yours but now I feel like to be with you for eternity. Let’s run away.”

You smiled and closed your eyes in his embrace, “together.”

[Anon <3 I hope this is okay with you. I feel so emotional whenever I write for Yunho. I should declare officially that he is my bias. Anyways he is MY MAN 🎀]

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. So basically I guess you have come across my recent posts regarding me abandoning all my smut fics and drafts coz of an issue. But yeah! There’s a thing I can do, I can omit the smut parts and post the fics. How about it? Would you guys still read it?

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[moonlightseve]

There is something tragic about Viktor Nikiforov. We get to see so little of his values and personality during the show, but the bits you can glimpse make this fact abundantly clear.

He commissions his own music in order to tell the story he wants to tell — we know that for sure. So Stammi Vicino was exactly what he wanted, a desperate plea for someone to understand him, to want him. The line “have you been abandoned as well?” sticks out to me especially, because it implies Viktor already has been abandoned. We don’t know much about his family or his friends, but the fact that we only ever see Yakov supporting him kind of makes me think that that’s all he has. He himself says he’s neglected life and love for over twenty years… it’s hard for me to accept that he could have any sort of fulfilling familial or platonic relationship we just don’t see on screen and for that statement to remain true.

The façade he insists on, the image of victory incarnate that even follows him in his name (he is a victor, down to his core) is something he never sheds. He has identified who he is SUPPOSED to be, first and foremost. The beach scene where he asks Yuuri who he is supposed to be for him breaks my heart because it has to be a conversation he has with himself regularly. Who do other people want him to be, and how can he be that for him? Never mind his own desires. The man is so reigned in emotionally that we don’t ever see an outburst from him, despite the fact that they’re frequent from the other characters. Viktor is calculated in every regard, to the point that Yuuri is downright shocked when Viktor starts to tear up when he’s practically kicked out of Yuuri’s life.

Whenever he tries to coach Yuuri, he seems to reflect on how he has been treated in the past and use that as a starting point. So when he refrains from the smooth confidence and gentle reassurance Yuuri favors, instead trying to motivate him through fear of loss and attempts to shame him (I will stop being your coach, how have you not medaled) it makes me think that that’s how he has been handled in the past. And he has a thicker skin than Yuuri, I think, but he was only a child when he started skating. To completely lack that sort of unconditional support explains why he hides so much of himself away and insists on constructing an image of himself for other people to admire instead.

Since we aren’t getting Ice Adolescence, I doubt we’ll ever really know what his early career or childhood looked like, but I’m almost certain that it wasn’t the warm, loving environment we see Yuuri has in Hatsetsu. When you’re at the top, there’s no one that can be up there with you. It’s lonely.

[mrhaitch]

what *do* you think of nanami and higuruma as just.. characters at face value? without the connotation of... smut??

are you into jjk in the first place? 🤔

I've only seen the anime, so I don't have much of an opinion of Higurama and I'll have to focus on the rest of your question, which I'll answer in reverse order (you'll see why).

JJK is a story about how contemporary society exploits, abuses, and seemingly loathes youth and innocence - attempting to discard or hammer it out of the young at the earliest opportunity. As a society, it's a gerontocracy with older citizens gleefully flinging the young at every danger and threat with abandon. I often associate the quote below with the show:

"Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past. The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living." - Karl Marx

That last bit is key and actually touches on something central to my own research and writing - how the actions of past generations can limit those of their descendants. Jujutsu society, especially if you look at the noble houses, only values those of the younger generations whose abilities and talents suit the demands and priorities of the elders - with all others discarded or excluded, such as Toji and Maki although they have very different reactions to that rejection.

Nanami is a window into, and a reaction to the gerontocratic order. My understanding is that he's the first sorcerer in his family, an automatic outsider, pushed further to the edges and even temporarily outside of Jujutsu society by the death of his friend. He lives outside of it for several years, and discovers a similar order to the world elsewhere - a cycle of exploitation and abuse. His return seems to be predicated on a refusal and a resistance to the very social order that killed his friend and stole his youth, fulfilling his role but modelling an alternative path where the next generations are valued and protected.

It costs him his life, in the end: he pushes back against the world, and it crushes him for it. I can see his death being a significant turning point for several central characters later on.

So what do I think of them as a character, as a person? Despite his insistence on rules and regulations, he's a frustrated idealist - one who is not at home in his own world, and knows full well that it will one day destroy him. There's a lot to like and respect there, and I often prefer characters who cleave to causes that seem hopeless - but recognise the importance of resistance and remaining true to their ideals, and shielding the vulnerable from institutional harm. Another quote (sorry, I'm an academic):

"You can fight all the devils and slay them, but if you're made hard at the days end then they win." - Brother Ali, Live and Let Go

I realise that's probably far more detail than you expected or even wanted, but this is what happens when I answer questions at 4:45am while entertaining my children.

[emblazons]

forewarning: this is the longest "this is mike's arc and I'm tired of denying it" breakdown i've done in a min (it's def about gay mike bar none so. skip if you want)

I keep reading posts about "where Mike is with his feelings for Will" all across the dash now, and...while I get the idea of wanting a Mike as devastated by not hearing from Will as Will was because Mike's aware he has romantic feelings, *Arya Stark Voice* that's not him?

In the show, Mike Wheeler wears his heart on his sleeve. He is prone to emotionality and doesn't really track his feelings within himself the way Will does—is "less interior," for a lack of a better phrase, which both plays dramatically into how things are playing out with both El and Will and makes it (dare I say it) out of character to believe he's as "hurt by his own hope" as Will is when it comes to mutual feelings.

Let me see if I can explain.

First: I think it's important to keep in mind that, at least with Mike, you get someone who will subconsciously act on "inner truths" before he even realizes they're true about him—and someone who will behave according to whatever external reality deems "correct" until he realizes 1) its bullshit or 2) its not true for him personally. We see this season over season:

First with how he willfully breaks rank with authority (his parents, the police, even the community) first to find Will and then again breaks rank with even his friends to protect Eleven in season 1

Then in S2 when he throws "proper" behavior to the wind (which is even slightly acknowledged in Will's 'don't tell the others' / 'crazy together) to be there for + lowkey confess the depth of his feelings to Will (everyone say thank you shed scene)

Again (though slightly different) in S3, with how there's this bubbling thing being gay he doesn't realize has started to manifest itself—cue that comment the duffer's made forever ago about S3 being about "the monster of puberty," aka when people start to understand their own attractions—until the very end of the season with how he realizes he's not attracted to El

And finally in S4, when he consciouslly knows for a fact he's not into El and tries to hide it—quite poorly, because, as I said, he can only abide a "lie" when he doesn't realize it is one—but hasn't yet realized that the thing bubbling up inside him THIS season (that keeps slipping out without him realizing it) is his attraction to/romantic feelings for Will.

In Season 4 especially, its easy to track how this "I can lie...until I know it is one" affects Mike's romantic prospects; we see plainly that his lying about his feelings to El during the monologue was a failure because the power of Mike's whole character is rooted in the importance of him being true to himself and his heart. Season over season, we've seen that Mike has to be honest with people once he knows what he feels in order for his leadership to be effective—and by S4, he knows he doesn't love El romantically (+ has known for a HOT minute, aka since his little S3 post-kiss revelation)—which is why he tries to skirt around the issue with that "I care for you so much" rather than lie to El's face about his lack of romantic feelings.

Basically: once Mike consciously knows something is not right in either the world or inside himself, he has to act on it...or suffer the consequences of his lack of honesty. But then....what does that have to do with him not being the one "not trying to be in love" with Will?

Despite the fandom urge to deny it even in the wake of The Duffers and Finn Wolfhard themselves telling them it's true: Mike being oblivious to his own feelings, or at least consciously unaware, of his own romantic feelings for Will is a solid amount of what's driving his character's growth right now. Mike "friends don't lie" Wheeler has spent the entirety of this show trying to be as honest as possible with the people around him, and we've clearly seen as of S4 what happens when he isn't honest—the world (quite literally) falls apart.

When it comes to his romantic arc especially, it's important to remember this is true, because it means, through logical deduction, that Mike isn't hiding the fact that he has feelings for Will throughout season 4—he's hiding the fact that he's not in love with his girlfriend the way he's supposed to be, which both plays into the whole forced conforming through-line of the season and explains the crux of his narrative even as we are primarily shown that experience through Will's eyes—unreliable as they are. The thing leaking out of Mike without his knowledge is the fact that he likes boys—but the thing he's consciously hiding and lying about is the fact that he doesn't like girls the way he knows he's supposed to.

Now: does that mean he doesn't have a million subconscious responses to things regarding Will—one's rooted both in his attraction to men and his friendly/romantic/evolving feelings for him? Absolutely not. Half of what drives Mike's S4 narrative was built into his wordless/subconscious actions throughout S3, from the way we see him look disgusted with girls when they're mentioned, the way he take's El's hands off him when she tries to kiss him, and even the way he looks conflicted by her kiss at the very end of the season. Just because Mike is consciously unaware that something is happening to him doesn't mean the thing isn't happening—it just means that Mike himself is oblivious to it.

Even so: Mike being oblivious to the fact that he's attracted to men/in love with Will means he isn't consciously trying to keep himself away from Will—which is clear, if you pay attention to every moment before he gets guilted into remembering he has a GF by Argyle.

Basically, the crux of Mike's own experience with his problems is—

"I don't love El the way I'm supposed to, and it's going to cause problems if I can't do that for everyone I care for,"

not

"I am trying to hide my feelings for boys/Will and have to pretend they aren't there to be normal."

—which is a subtle but critical distinction in understanding both where he is by the end of S4 and where he's headed moving into S5.

Now: I get that it's more fun to imagine a Mike fighting his feelings for Will consciously throughout S4, but....that's Will's story and experience of his feelings, not Mike's. Mike is fighting with his lack of attraction to women more than his attraction to men/Will—which is also why you see it slip out so much despite the time/era/what he knows of what happens to gay men in Hawkins.

If Mike knew he loved Will/boys consciously, he'd be much more afraid of himself and Will than he is even as of the last shot of S4—but he's not, which is shockingly telling if you consider how he already knows what he doesn't feel for Eleven. Once he does know what he feels—his "a-ha" moment about liking Will, the same as his consciously realizing he didn't love El "like that" as of end of S3—it will be impossible for him not to address it in himself...and finally be honest/undo the damage of The Lie he told El (he loved her) during the monologue.

That's the (canonical) trajectory of Mike "The Heart" Wheeler—and why him being oblivious to his feelings for Will, not just "secretly longing without wanting to indulge hope he might have the boy he loves" the way Will is experiencing moving into S5. 🤷🏽‍♀️

[accio-victuuri]

bobo the piggy. 🐽 + cpns

i think it’s about time to make some kind of compilation about this aspect of the fandom. mainly because xz seems to be attached to it lately. this characterization of him is more of good natured teasing and endearment — nothing derogatory. i know there is a negative impression when someone is a “pig” but that’s not the case at all with yibo. it’s more of the cute side, and to represent that “soft side” of yibo when he’s not on lion or panther mode.

a huge part of this is mugui laoshi’s bobi character that everyone loves and why it’s really stuck with the fandom. who wouldn’t love that cute character? in the same way that yibo also has that cute side to him we all adore.

let me start first with yibo and his connection to the “pig” title. with him being known as the Little Golden Pig in c-ent. i’m getting this one from Baidu:

"Little Golden Pig" is a nickname for entertainment star Wang Yibo. This title comes from his extremely high popularity in the industry. With great influence, he is regarded as one of the top artists. The commercial value is so high that in the activities he participated in such as Weibo night or YH Family concert. Using his name the prices of related products will rise rapidly. Therefore, he known as the "Little Golden Pig" in recognition of his achievements in the business field.

TOTALLY AGREE. <3

other instances of this association:

• videos of him with pigs for your pleasure ( trying to be friends with one and this show actually had him rapping to this pig lol and feeding a pig at DDU )

• the miniso collab doll that is supposed to be yibo is a cute pig.

• he once wore Nike shows that’s called Pink Pig.

• the fact that we associate Pink as being his other favorite color and how he seems to associate that with romance.

• that viral pig meme that danced to Wugan 😂😂

• meme/expressions of him sometimes used by fans where he looks like a pig.

i bet there is some more, but i will stop here cause i know people ( and me personally ) want to move to the cpn side of things already! the first one will have to be PEPPA PIG. something that started within the crew and has somehow evolved into being about wangxian — and by extension — yizhan. ( some cpns here here and here )

• this video by BYS ( by your side ) of a behind the scenes clip when xz called wyb a pig. that’s it, in the video he calls his attention by shouting “pig” and then asks him to catch the sword and then they proceed to their usual banter.

• there is an lrlg rumor where xz was talking about a piggy nose. i think he really fixates on that. and the way xz says it, you can see that it’s good natured teasing. then wyb compares him to a black pig.

• his pig drawing, but it is doing a finger heart sign. a pose wyb was fond of at some point.

• the book xz was photographed with “The Maverick Pig” by Wang Xiaobo. i mean, look at the cover and the name of the author. tho we know that xz loves to read a variety of books and this one seems interesting.

and there was an lrlg rumor where it looked like wyb was reading a letter by xz to him. he started with “i give you my whole soul..” and xz cuts him off. like he is embarrassed and doesn’t want wyb to continue on. cpfs thought it’s from a poem by the same author called loving you is like loving life.

I give you my whole soul, along with its quirks, tantrums, flickers, 1800 bad habits. It's really annoying, there’s only a little good, Love you.

🫠🫠🫠🫠

• pig on his phone! 📲 i think this one is more telling and personal. you can explain it differently and say that since gg is superstitious, he believes that it’s some form of attracting prosperity. which could be true. but at the same time, wyb does the same for him. his piggy who brought him happiness and good fortune in life.

• fake rumor of them arguing as they usually do and then xz saying “the pig is angry” pertaining to wyb.

• another cute rumor:

🟢"It's cold, I'm afraid he'll freeze his head. Doesn't this look good with a hat?"

🔴"Yeah, you're pretty good at taking care of yourself."

Teacher Wang locked his phone. You're not going to reply? Hahahahaha. It's a piglet doll wearing a hat with the number "16" on it. It's pretty cute.

people are pointing at this stuffed toy as the alleged pig that yibo is taking care of. and the fact that it has 16 on it. 👀

and it’s a cow piglet!!!! 💕

just thinking about xz giving bobo a doll to take care of is making me somft!

• and another rumor 😂😂😂

XZ: There is a pig here wyb! [There is a pig sticker on the side of the makeup mirror. I don't know who put it there. ]

then xz was saying it’s cute, wyb then says “don’t say it looks like me!” to which xz replied: “I didn’t plan to say it! Why do you always think about yourself?” 🤣🤣🤣

they are so chaotic!!!!

there is something funny in all of this because with all the symbolism we have associated with them like the moon — xz chose the pig. maybe it’s because there is no room to misunderstand the meaning or association. you can explain what the moon, stars and umbrellas are for in a non-cpn way when he posts about it, but this leaves almost no room for escape. xz is really out here going on vacation and relaxed but leaving us stressed out with the candies he drops!

source.

[lostyesterday]

It’s interesting to me that Voyager has so many episodes where Tuvok becomes disabled and then stops being disabled by the end of the episode. The obvious examples are Year of Hell where he becomes blind before the timeline is restored, and Riddles where he experiences a major brain injury whose symptoms are cured at the end of the episode. But then there’s also Endgame, where alternate timeline Tuvok is in the later stages of a degenerative illness, and Meld, where what happens to Tuvok when he mind melds with Lon Suder could arguably be considered a disability (especially from a Vulcan perspective). Arguably Flashback counts too. These types of plots aren’t uncommon in Star Trek, but I think it’s interesting that such a large proportion of these storylines in Voyager happen to Tuvok in particular.

So, why Tuvok? I think it partially comes down to the fact that many people find it narratively interesting to see the most in-control, stoic, and independent characters stripped of their skills or strengths in some way. In other words, disabling them. How does a character who is defined by their self-control and discipline deal with a sudden loss of ability to control themselves? How does a character who deeply values their independence deal with a sudden necessary dependence on others? Tuvok is arguably the Voyager character who most represents competence, ability, and control. If being disabled is to be unable in some way to measure up to the standards of what a person “should” be able to do in society, then Tuvok in his typical state represents or possibly strives to represent the opposite of that. So, from this perspective, making Tuvok disabled affects him as a character more fundamentally than it would other characters, which is theoretically more narratively interesting.

From an able-bodied perspective, it could be argued that such a storyline represents a deep-rooted fear of becoming disabled. Able-bodied people fear disability because it represents the weakness and dependence that anyone can find themselves embodying under the right circumstances. Accidents and illness and old age can happen to anyone, and happen to almost everyone in time. Disability is a fact of life, but for many people, it is a looming cloud on the horizon – something they might ordinarily choose to ignore. To explore such a theme in fiction is to thus look at a subject tinged with discomfort. To give such a storyline to a character that represents the peak of control and ability could serve either to heighten that discomfort by showing even the “strongest” person being vulnerable to disability, or to lessen it by displacing that fear from an “ordinary” and thus more relatable character to one who is unusually skilled or strong (in this case, Tuvok being Vulcan on a ship of mostly humans). Either way, though, if the character is cured in the end and their disability is gone by the next episode, that discomfort is narratively relieved. Disability affects able-bodied characters only temporarily. There’s nothing to fear – they’ll be returned to “normal” next episode.

This might make it sound as if I entirely dislike the disability storylines centered on Tuvok, but that isn’t true. To a certain extent, the cures or time resets that bring Tuvok back to his able-bodied state after every episode are an inevitable part of a mostly episodic show like Voyager. Beyond able-bodied fears and miracle cures, I do think there can be something compelling about telling a disabled story centered on a character like Tuvok. I like that Year of Hell shows Tuvok skillfully using a tactile console and navigating the ship while blind, while at the same time having much more difficulty with certain tasks than he did before, because that’s realistic – that’s how it often actually feels to become disabled. Some tasks that were easy before become impossible. Some tasks seem at first to be impossible, but over time become possible as you adapt and learn new strategies. A skilled and resourceful character can be skilled and resourceful in adapting to disability, but they are still disabled. I also like that Riddles asks the question of what it means for a person to feel less valuable when they become unable to perform the tasks they did before. That kind of question can become more profoundly unsettling when applied to a character who defines himself fundamentally by the abilities he has lost. I do think it would have been interesting if Tuvok had been disabled for longer – if disability had been a more defining element of his character rather than merely a frequent theme. But I also think that what is there in the text has interesting elements as well.

[prismsofmystery]

DISCLAIMER:

Nothing here is canon ya'll. It's just a story I wrote for fun. I've also added some of my original characters and lore for fun fr. @joydoesathing owns the genderbent designs, characters and AU lmao. I chose Helga as the doorman because I love her sm.

Synopsis - Helga has no problem protecting the people of the apartment..until their true occupations come into question. Are they really who they say they are? Do they really need protecting? Or are they just as dangerous as the creatures outside denied entry every day?

Helga was the unfortunate doorman for this particular apartment. Like the ones who would come before her and after, she was tasked with letting the neighbors in and taking the doppels out with the help of the D.D.D. She usually wasn't one to question her job as it seemed fairly easy, paid pretty well, and as long as she did her job right gave her no problems.

It wasn't the doppels she was worried about, well mostly. It was the neighbors. The people she was being paid to protect. Not every single one of them, but a good few.

Some of them did look like their occupation, like Martin Bubbles, the seamstress, Stephanie Rudboys, a pilot, Harbertine, Robertine, and Albertine, the shoemakers, and Marcille, the miner were just a few examples.

However…some of them…did not. Like Agnes, the "businesswoman", Wilma, the "physicist", Eryndor, the "historian", and quite possibly Ann. Even Anatolii gave her such vibes, but she was sure he was just a normal kid.

McKendra was one of the first neighbors to return in the afternoon. She had Eryndor right behind her. Helga turned up from her notebook, looking at them. She got rid of the notebook quickly and turned to her clipboard instead. "I-ID and Entry Request, please…?" She mentally cursed herself for stuttering. McKendra and Eryndor handed her the required paperwork.

"Grocery shopping again, Ms. Rudboys?" Helga asked, looking at the Entry Request with a bit of a chuckle. McKendra smirked and put her hands on her hips. "Yep. My food be disappearin' quicker than my daughters when they go off to work. Especially with this one." She put her arm around Eryndor casually.

Eryndor turned to face her, looking utterly embarrassed and slightly annoyed. "Ma. I am right here." McKendra laughed. "I know. That's why I said it."

"You both are free to go." Helga said, stifling her laughter. She handed them back their papers. "Thank ya, dear." McKendra said, walking away with Eryndor right behind her, still looking like she wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

Although Eryndor had grown up in a rich English speaking family according to McKendra, who had found the little one by her doorstep one day, only 5 but speaking clear crisp pristine English. Only to go from that to McKendra's southern accent due to McKendra and Stephanie's influence. It was interesting, and took Helga by surprise when she first heard her speak.

"Yer lucky I ain't say nothin' about them country ass curb stompers ya got on." She heard Eryndor say to her as she walked towards the elevator.

Helga waited for the next neighbors to enter, hoping this day would be easy. "Ah, Izabelle." Helga noted, seeing the woman come up to the booth. Izabelle grinned widely and handed her the papers.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Izabelle slightly averted her gaze, looking disoriented and slightly unhappy for a moment. Izabelle had previously mentioned the upsurge in doppelganger casualties, which she had to cover every single time. Helga shared a sympathetic look, putting her hand on Izabelle's hand through the hatch, where it was frozen. "It'll get better. I promise." Helga tried to reassure her.

Izabelle let out a sigh, not quite looking so hopeful. "I can only hope you're right." She muttered. Helga opened the door and allowed her inside.

"Mm. Hello." Was all Helga heard from then.

Later that night.

Helga was getting ready to head to her room in the apartment. She let in everyone, and had those who didn't belong were decimated. She was about to head upstairs when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. A silhouette, one she couldn't quite make out.

She then heard footsteps from behind her. She saw someone walking out of the building, almost oddly resembling Agnes, but she was too slow to catch them. She just really hoped that they weren't doppelgangers. She'd have to investigate tomorrow.

The fate of the apartment was in her hands, and she couldn't afford to fail. Not with this many lives at stake. She had to do something if this was a threat to her neighbors.

[atypicalamortentia]

Yule Ball

Synopsis - The boys ask you to be their date.

Warnings - SFW.

Notes - All characters are aged 18+!

Words - 4.3k.

{Caffeinate Me}

SEBASTIAN SALLOW had no problems getting someone to agree to going to the Yule Ball with him, he was charming, charismatic, handsome, clever and funny. It wasn’t his lack of ability to find someone that was hindering him, but rather his inability to actually ask the person he wanted to go with: you. 

You were sitting in the Undercroft with him one evening, drinking your classic fire-whisky and chatting about your upcoming exams and how the Yule Ball was a pleasant distraction when Sebastian asked who you were going with. Curiosity glimmered behind his brown eyes as he watched your face twist and turn, a variety of emotions flickering through your expressions. “I’m not going with anyone yet,” you replied with a slight shrug. 

“What do you mean, ‘yet’?” Sebastian asked as he raised an eyebrow at your response. 

“Well, Amit actually asked me-” you started, but Sebastian cut you off. 

“Amit huh? That’s nice,” jealousy bubbled in his chest at the thought of you actually going to the ball with Amit.

“If you'd be so kind as to let me finish before interrupting me,” you reply with a cough, rolling your eyes. “Amit asked me to go with him, but there’s someone else I want to go with.” 

Sebastian took a large swig of the amber liquid before responding. “Someone else you want to go with?” For a second, with the way you were looking at him, Sebastian felt some hope swirl through his chest but that was short lived when you replied. 

“Yeah, but I doubt this person would actually want to go with me. I might just agree and go with Amit… What do you think?”

“Absolutely not,” Sebastian shook his head, determined to not let you attend the Yule Ball with Amit. Amit was nice enough, but he couldn’t treat you the way Sebastian could. “Who is this other person?” 

“It’s nobody,” you mumbled, averting your gaze away from Sebastians. 

“Why wouldn’t this other person not want to go with you? You’re smart, beautiful, funny and don’t even get me started on your personality!” Sebastian exclaimed, his voice slightly slurred from the fire-whisky. Your eyes widened at his words, a slight pink blush scattered across your cheeks in response. “Anybody would be happy to go with you.” 

“You think so?” you asked Sebastian, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“I know so,” Sebastian whispered as he leaned in slightly closer to you. Whether it was the courage he had gained from fire-whisky or his dire need to go to the ball with you, Sebastian finally spoke up. “I don’t think you should go to the ball with Amit. In fact, I don’t think you should go with anyone.” 

Your eyes widened at his words and you visibly frowned at him. “I want to go, Sebastian. I’m not going to not go just because you’re jealous.” 

Sebastian smirked at you, shaking his head. “First off, I’m hardly jealous of Amit. Secondly, I’m not saying don’t go to the Yule Ball Y/N. What I’m saying is you should go with someone else.”

“And who would that be? Because I’m pretty sure the only person who wants to go with me is Amit.”

“That’s not true,” he whispered, his voice husky. He leaned in even closer, so-much-so you could feel his breath fanning across your face. “I want to go with you, as more than just friends.” 

You blinked rapidly at Sebastian, wanting to make sure you heard him right. “You? Want to go with me?” Sebastian just nodded, watching as you thought and with every second that you didn’t respond to him, Sebastian couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. That was until you grinned at him. “I’d love to go with you, Sebastian.” 

He was shocked. “Really?” 

“Really,” you nodded your head. 

Sebastian placed his glass of fire-whisky on the stone floor of the Undercroft before cupping your face in his hands gently. He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs before capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. After a few seconds, Sebastian pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “I’m glad. I’ll pick you up from your common room tomorrow evening, about six?”

“Sounds wonderful,” you whispered back to him, your lips tingling from the kiss. You couldn’t wait to see what the Yule Ball had in store for you and Sebastian, but whatever it was, you were eager.

OMINIS GAUNT hated the idea of the Yule Ball, after all, socialising with his peers didn’t exactly sound like a good time to him. The only reason he was going at all was because you and Sebastian wouldn’t stop pressuring him about it. You were sitting next to Ominis in Charms class when you turned to look at him, placing a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention. “What is it?” He asked, turning his head to your general direction. He couldn’t see you, but he could sense you were staring at him. 

“Who are you going to the Ball with?” You asked softly, your voice a whisper so as to not disturb the class. 

“You and Sebastian?” Ominis replied, his voice sounding more like a confused question than an answer. 

“I mean who’s your date?”

“Date?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, your date,” you replied as if it was the most obvious question in the world. 

“I don’t have a date,” Ominis replied, swallowing the lump in his throat. Truth be told, he had wanted to ask you to be his date but had disregarded that idea altogether when Sebastian had told him to ‘dream on’. 

“Ominis!” You whispered. 

“What?” He replied, his voice a low hiss. 

“You need a date!” You responded.

“No. I don’t,” Ominis hissed. Truth be told, if he couldn’t go with you then he didn’t even want to go. “Besides, who would want to go to a ball with a man like me? I’m blind, remember?”

“So?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Well,” Ominis cleared his throat and sighed. “Usually women like to be complimented on how beautiful they look. I can’t see a thing.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Ominis. He was always putting himself down because he couldn’t see or compliment someone. “You compliment me all the time even though you can’t see. Just because you’re blind doesn’t mean you can’t show someone that you care.”

Ominis shrugged his shoulders, his behaviour half-assed as he turned his attention back to the front of the classroom. “It just comes naturally with you,” he mumbled under his breath, too low for you to hear. You drop the conversation and pay attention to Professor Ronan’s class, all while Ominis thought about asking you to the Yule Ball. He knew that Sebastian had implied that he shouldn’t even bother asking, but Ominis couldn’t help but think of the possibility you could say yes. Sure he was pessimistic about most things, but he couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of optimism when he thought about it. 

Ominis, as usual, gathered his things after class and took his wand out of his robe ready to make his way back to the Slytherin common room when he felt a hand intertwine with his. “What is it, Y/N?” He asked, his voice full of intrigue. 

“How did you know it was me?” You asked softly, your eyes widening. 

“A few reasons,” Ominis replied sheepishly before changing the subject. He didn’t want to admit to you that he had memorised the size and shape of your hand in his.

“Who do you want to go to the ball with? Come on, I’ll help you!” You exclaimed, dragging him along the corridors. 

Ominis let out a sigh and stopped in his footsteps forcing you to be pulled back against his body. You stammered out a quick sorry and put some distance between the two of you as you looked away from him with a faint blush on your cheeks. You were glad, in a way, that Ominis couldn’t see your flushed face. “Look, Y/N, Sebastian told me that I shouldn’t tell you but I can’t hold it in-”

“Tell me what?” You asked. 

Ominis squeezed your hand lightly before running his free hand through his blonde hair, letting out a nervous exhale. “Will you come to the ball with me?” His voice was a whisper, almost as though he didn’t want anybody else around the two of you to hear. 

“Are you, Ominis Gaunt, asking me to the Yule Ball?” You asked, a sly smile appearing on your lips. 

“I understand, I’m sorry I-” Ominis stopped his sentence in his tracks as your response and inflections fully registered in his mind. Ominis knew when you were smiling, and he knew when you were about to agree to something. “Wait… is that a yes?” 

“Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!” You exclaimed, squeezing his hand tightly. Ominis used his thumb to rub small, soothing circles on the back of your hand as he let out a breath he never knew he had been holding in. “Also, you spoke to Sebastian about this?” Ominis nodded his head sheepishly, his milky eyes looking away from your direction as if embarrassed. “Ominis you know never to listen to Sebastian’s opinion,” you chuckled, shaking your head in faux disapproval at your friend's judgement. 

“I know but he really had me convinced this time,” Ominis shrugged in an attempt to defend himself. 

“I’d be honoured to go to the ball with you Ominis,” you smiled softly before standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

Ominis felt his face redden at the feel of your lips against his cold cheek, electricity igniting deep within him. He couldn’t, in that moment, find it in himself to kiss your lips. The moment he kissed you had to be perfect, and what moment was perfect other than a ball?  

GARRETH WEASLEY had asked you to the Yule Ball plenty of times during the run-up. In Charms class, in Potions class, hell he’d even come up to you during lunch and make a grand gesture, but each time you would turn him down. Not because you didn’t want to go with him, you really did want to be the girl on his arm, but you saw his asking as nothing more than what you thought it was: a joke. He had approached you yet again asking you the same question, if anything the man was persistent. “Will you go to the Yule Ball with me Y/N?” Garreth asked, on one knee as if he was proposing to you. 

“Garreth I’ve told you a million times, no.”

“Why not?” He pouted, standing up and looking at you as if he were a lost puppy dog. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Look Garreth, you’re a really really sweet guy. You are-”

“If I’m so sweet and charming then why won’t you be my date?” He interrupted, causing you to roll your eyes at him. 

“I never said you were charming, but if you let me finish I’d tell you why,” you snapped, clearly beyond frustrated with the ginger's antics. “I won’t go to the ball with you because I don’t want to be asked out as a joke. I want to go with someone who genuinely wants to go with me.” Garreth stood there looking rather stunned at your admission, and he quickly realised that you thought his hopeless attempts of asking you to be his partner at the Yule Ball was a joke. Before he could say anything in response you turned on your heels and walked away to your next class. 

That evening, you had snuck out of your common room to go to the astronomy tower. The stars were shining bright and it was certainly a sight to behold. Your mind was swimming with various different thoughts between your exams and the upcoming Yule Ball when suddenly a cough caught your attention. You spun around coming face-to-face with Garreth. He eyed your curiously. “What’re you doing out here?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Needed some fresh air,” you replied, leaning against the railing of the astronomy tower. 

“It’s almost midnight,” Garreth reminded you. 

“So?” You asked, shrugging slightly. “What are you doing out here?”

“Needed some fresh air,” he repeated your lines back to you as he stalked over to you. Grinning at him, you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’re you really doing out here?” You asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence. 

“I had a feeling you’d be out of bed,” Garreth replied. “I wanted to speak to you.”

“Look, Garreth, if you’re going to make another joke about us going to the Yule Ball together, save it.”

“That’s the thing, I’m not joking,” he said quickly, his hands resting on your shoulders. “I want to go with you.”  

You cocked your head at him curiously, searching his eyes for any sort of a lie. When you saw none, your mouth hung wide open. “You want to go with me?” 

“Yes. More than anything!” 

“So, you weren’t joking?” 

“Merlin, no. I wasn’t joking,” Garreth smiled warmly at you and it sent your heart into a fluttering frenzy. You blinked rapidly at him, batting your eyelashes like a moth flying towards a flame. 

“I swear to Merlin, Garreth if you’re joking you’ll never see the light of day again.” 

“I’m not joking,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Why did you think I was joking?” 

“You kept making these big, overly affectionate grand gestures. Hell, some people even thought you were proposing to me earlier today because you were on one knee.”

“That’s my love language,” Garreth replied defensively. “The time to worry is when I’m not being overly affectionate and making grand gestures.” 

“Besides,” you ignored him and continued talking, the words coming out of your mouth like vomit. “I thought we were just friends.” 

Garreth took a step closer to you, resting his hands on your hips. “I want to be more than just friends with you Y/N.” 

“Y-You do?” You asked, shocked to your core. Garreth continued nodding, his smile widening at your shocked expression. 

“I want you to come to the ball with me, as my date, not my friend.” Immediately you nodded your head. There was no doubt in your mind that you wanted to go with Garreth, and so you didn’t hesitate to answer. You wrapped your arms around Garreth’s neck and pulled him close to you, nuzzling your head against his chest lovingly. It was sweet, the way his heart was beating so fast. “I take it the nodding of your head is a solid yes?” He asked, grinning widely. 

“Yes,” you whispered against his chest. Garreth brought a hand up to stroke your hair. 

“Wear something red,” he said after a few moments of silence. 

“Red?” You asked, slightly confused. 

“Gryffindor colours,” he replied, confirming your suspicion. 

“Right,” you nodded your head and pulled away from Garreth’s chest. “I should go back to bed, but I'll see you tomorrow?” 

“You can count on it,” Garreth smirked, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. You felt your heart flutter in your chest as his lips met your head. You brushed your nose up against his before planting your lips softly on his. Garreth was slightly taken back by your boldness, but accepted the kiss nonetheless, eagerly kissing you back. When you pulled away, Garreth was breathless, his chest rising and falling dramatically with each deep breath he took. “I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful.” And with that, he watched you walk away from the astronomy tower.

LEANDER PREWETT was shy, nervous and anxious about asking you to go to the Yule Ball with him. In fact, he was insistent on not going at all, but when you batted your eyelashes at him and begged him to come, Leander couldn’t say no. “Who are you going with?” You asked Leander as you walked with him to your next class. 

Leander stopped in his tracks and rubbed his neck awkwardly. “I don’t have a date, actually.” 

You were shocked to say the least. Leander was a good looking man, who wouldn’t want to go to a ball with him? “Is that why you didn’t want to come?” 

“Something like that, yeah.” 

You sighed, sitting down on the bench outside the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom and patting the seat next to you for Leander to sit down. Nervously he looked towards the classroom door before obliging, sitting down next to you but leaving just enough distance to be considered respectful of your personal space. “You know, I don’t have a date either. But just because I don’t have a date, doesn’t mean I don’t want to go.” 

Leander nodded, a slight hum leaving his throat at your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go, he wanted to go and enjoy his night. The issue was he wanted to go with you. “I suppose,” he whispered, looking down at his feet. 

“Are you thinking of asking anyone?” You asked him softly, placing a hand on his knee. Leander became acutely aware of your hand gripping his kneecap and felt his breath hitch in his throat. He became a bumbling mess of a man as he tried to explain his predicament to you without telling you exactly why he didn’t want to go. 

“Yeah - I mean there’s this girl - but I don’t think she’d want to go with me and, I feel too nervous to ask her in case she shoots me down,” Leander muttered. 

“Who would ever shoot you down, Leander?” You asked him seriously as you furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re smart, charming and handsome. Plenty of women are just dying to ask you to the ball!” 

Leander felt his heart skip a beat at your description and he looked up from his feet to gaze into your eyes. Were you saying that just to be nice, or did you really mean it? Surely if you meant it, then there’s no way you’d turn him down… right? Leander let out a shaky sigh. “Do you really mean that?” 

You nodded your head, a bright smile playing on your lips. You hated to admit it, but the thought of Leander asking someone else other than you to the ball cut you deep inside, but you were his friend and you had to be supportive. “Why don’t you practise asking me? Pretend I'm the girl.” Leander looked horrified at that suggestion and he felt his palms become sweaty. You squeezed his knee in reassurance. “Don’t be shy, Leander, it’s only me.”

‘That’s the problem’, Leander thought as he opened his mouth to speak. His throat ran dry as the words came tumbling off his lips, and fast. “Wouldyouliketocometotheballwithme?” 

“Good, but…” you trailed off, giggling slightly. “It was a bit fast. Try to slow down, the trick is to act confident. If you act confident, but not too confident, you can’t go wrong! The girl will be like putty in your hands.” 

Leander took another breath and ran a hand through his ginger hair. He looked down at your hand on his knee before looking into your eyes once more. With a deep breath, he spoke. This time sounding more serious and determined than before. “Will you, Y/N L/N, attend the Yule Ball with me?” 

You removed your hand from his knee and clapped in approval. You couldn’t deny the beating of your heart in your chest at the thought of him truly asking you to the ball, but you shook your head, trying to get that thought out of your head. “Perfect! If you say it exactly like that, that girl is bound to say yes!” 

Leander furrowed his eyebrows and pinched the bridge of his nose. He decided to try again. “Y/N… Will you accompany me to the ball?”

You blinked at him, heartbeat thumping in your ears. You wanted to believe that he was just practising again, but the way Leander was looking at you made you realise quickly that he wasn’t. “M-Me?” You asked him, pointing at your chest.

“Yes. You.” 

“Why me?” You managed to stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush red from embarrassment. 

Now it was Leander’s turn to place his hand on your knee. “Because you’re smart, charming and beautiful,” he replied, echoing the words that you had used to describe him earlier back at you. “And I would be the luckiest man in this castle if you agreed to attend this ball with me.” You hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was just some prank. Leander squeezed your knee slightly, a gentle push for you to answer his question. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, you just nodded your head. “You mean it?” He asked, scooting closer to you. 

“Yes, I mean it,” you whispered softly, nodding your head. You felt as though the man had just proposed marriage to you. 

Leander smirked, all his insecurities washing away with a nod of your head. “Great! I erm, I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, nodding his head slowly. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Leander,” you smiled softly, watching as the man walked away from you. Leander couldn’t stop smiling as he walked back to his dorm room, the feeling of finally being able to ask you, making him feel as though he could do anything.

AMIT THAKKAR watched you from across the room as you talked to Ominis and Sebastian, your two best friends. Amit desperately wanted to ask you to the Yule Ball, but he had managed to convince himself that one of your friends had already asked you. He had lost himself in staring at you, only noticing his gaze remained on you when you turned to look at him. Clearly, Sebastian had pointed out Amit’s staring to you. Just when the embarrassment couldn’t get any worse, you stood up and began walking over to him. Amit stiffened as you walked towards him, his eyes quickly diverting away from you. Then your voice came, “hey Amit.”

“H-Hi,” he managed to stutter out. Amit finally turned to look at you again, a soft, awkward smile on his lips. 

“You okay?” You asked, voice silky and smooth. You sat down on the bench next to him, getting yourself comfortable. 

“Me? I’m fine. Are you?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“I’ve been better,” you replied honestly. This made Amit frown.

“What’s wrong?” He couldn’t help but ask you. 

“Well, it’s a bit silly,” you mumbled, shifting awkwardly next to him. “But nobody has asked me to the Yule Ball yet.” 

Amit’s eyes widened. Nobody had asked you? How could that be? You were utterly stunning. He couldn’t believe that nobody had asked you, not even Sebastian or Ominis. “So you’re not going with Sebastian? Or Ominis?” His voice held a hopeful tone. 

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly. “Sebastian? Ominis? Seriously?” 

“I-I just meant as friends,” Amit stammered as you shook your head, still laughing slightly. 

“No. I’m not going with either of them,” you stared at Amit with a grin on your face. “What about you? Who are you going with?” 

Amit shook his head. “Oh. No one.” 

“You haven’t asked anyone?” Amit shook his head, suddenly feeling very nervous. Was he making it obvious that he wanted to ask you? Should he ask you? He felt dizzy at your close proximity and sighed slightly as you asked another question. “Is there anyone you want to ask?” 

Amit nodded his head slightly, almost shyly. “Yeah, but, I can’t seem to work up the courage to ask.” 

“Why not?” You asked. “Surely whoever you want to ask would say yes! I mean, you’re amazing Amit. Don’t think about it too hard, and don’t think too harshly about yourself either.” You smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly and squeezing gently. Amit looked at you, a slight blush peppering his cheeks. 

“Do you think so?” He asked, eyes widening slightly. 

You nodded your head. “Yes. I really do.” 

“In that case…” Amit turned to you, a gleam in his eyes. “Would you like to go to the ball with me?” 

Your lips turned up into a grin as you looked at Amit, both of your hearts beating rapidly. You didn’t even hesitate to nod at him, smiling widely. “I’d love to go to the ball with you!” You exclaimed, clapping your hands together excitedly. 

“R-Really?” Amit asked, shock covering his face. 

“Of course! I thought you’d never ask me,” you chuckle, shaking your head. Amit felt his face getting hotter at your comment. 

“Honestly? I thought I wouldn’t ask either.” 

“I’m glad you did,” you replied, taking his hand in yours and bringing it up to your lips.

“Me too,” he whispered, letting your lips skim across his hand. This was a dream come true for him, and for you too. “What will you be wearing?”

“Ah, you’ll just have to wait and see,” you grin, a slight giggle in your voice. 

“Well whatever it is, I’m sure you’re going to look stunning,” Amit smiled, forcing you to blush lightly. 

“Thank you, Amit,” you replied, slightly embarrassed. You stood up from your position on the bench to make your way back to your friends, but not before pressing a gentle kiss on Amit’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Amit.”

“Y-Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”  Amit watched as you walked away, a wide smile on his face. He was already excitedly anticipating the ball, but now he truly had a reason to: he’d be dancing with you. Drinking with you. He couldn’t wait to see how beautiful you looked. To have you on his arm, finally.

[allastoredeer]

manlyman al/uwu lucifer, buff al/skinny lucifer, lucifer in a drag with al dressed in a suit - all the same crap, it's also very noticeable how much of luci in dress with al in a suit there is and how little the other way around or when they both in dresses and also luci in dress? 10000+ likes, while rare alastor in dress? well, barely 1000 or 2000. Same with any reverse of usual fandom versions of them. Very telling if you ask me. Blond, short, goofy, did a sad face few times? Of course it's the one who's we gonna make a girly girl here and there's can be only one in our mlm ship 🙄 People want fanon charlastor but without charlie in it because she's actually a female

Damn, you came in swinging.

But, like...I see no lies here. It is kind of funny that people put Lucifer in dresses more than Alastor when Alastor literally wore a nun outfit in the show. It's such a shame too because with Al's long legs and slim waist, DAMN he'd look so good in dresses.

It is very telling that in every fandom space, with at least one pairing - usually a very popular one - one of two becomes a girly girl and the other a darker, menacing, and more intimidating manly man. There's nothing wrong with feminine male characters, nor them being in mlm relationship, but when it happens to every. Single. Ship. where the characters are stripped down to basic archetypes.... ಠ_ಠ

It really is funny, because going by what we've seen in the show, Alastor is so much more of a girly pop than Lucifer is. Him and all his little wrist flicks and sassy remarks.

I mean

Look at this guy

Look at him

LOOK AT HIM

LOOOOOOK AT HIMMMMMMMM

How can people see this man as a super serious big bad muscle daddy? I don't understand. He's so unserious. So full of whimsy. He's a clowning troll. And I'm telling you, look at that thin waist and those long legs. He'd look amazing in a dress.

This actually reminds me of a previous ask I got a while back. The topic was centered around some fans saying that Alastor would never bottom and the over all characterizations of him and Lucifer, and this line here sums it up perfectly:

"shows such a patriarchal-ly drenched heterosexual view of sex, that they then apply to a MLM ship that drives me INSANE."

Particularly, the drenched in a patriarchally heterosexual view. Having one man in a mlm relationship be more feminine than the other is totally okay, there is nothing wrong with that, and there are a lot gay relationships like that.

But the way a lot of radioapple is depicted feels weirdly heterosexual, and it's because of the behaviors and archetypes that get assigned to them. Lucifer becomes this teeny tiny, wide-eyed, awkward little waif and Alastor this big dark possessive boyfriend who's always looming over his shoulder and glaring at anyone who looks at Lucifer. It reads like every other cringy straight romance I've read. Add in the trope of Alastor drinking Lucifer's blood and it's basically "Twilight" set in Hell.

Okay, not to derail, but there was this one AU that I was obsessed with. It's a Hades/Peresphone AU for radioapple, and it sounded amazing, but there were so many depictions of Alastor as Hades and Lucifer as Persephone and I was just...

I was flabbergasted.

You have Lucifer, the king of Hell, the DEVIL himself, be the goddess of spring instead of the Lord of the Underworld. I'm....whut?!!?!?! Alastor is literally a deer, he would be perfect to play Persephone. That guy would be hunting down all the people poaching and harming his domain and making them suffer, and I can totally see Niffty as a psycho little nymph that tags along on his "hunting trips."

I've seen one or two au's where Alastor is Persephone and Lucifer is Hades, and they are glorious, but every time I see the opposite I feel like I'm taking psychic damage. A year of my life gets taken away. I fear I'll be on my death bed soon.

Also this line "People want fanon charlastor but without charlie in it because she's actually a female" it's so true to fandom it hurts, but it's so fucking funny, I'm wheezing

You ate with this ask 🤌

[romchat]

The Double (Ep. 32): You reap what you sow

I'm always riveted when I watch a Shen Yurong scene because not only does Liang Yongqi have electrifying chemistry with the actresses around him but my goodness do I LOVE how the show's visual storytelling reinforces what a pitiful man he is.

Framing, Blocking, Lighting

For example, this episode makes fantastic use of doors and other forms of architectural framing to show Yurong's fundamental flaw: his cowardice.

At the beginning of the episode, we see Fangfei gaze at two doorways, one that could lead to her future (Duke Su) and the other a painful reminder of the trauma Yurong has caused her. It's only when she recalls Duke Su's reassurance ("A'Li, from today onwards, there's no need to be afraid of anyone") that she's able to step forward and face her memories.

But when Yurong enters the hall and offers to open the door for her, suggesting he knows her true identity, Fangfei side-steps him and their blocking slowly changes. Fangfei now faces the light, her back to the door of their past.

They've never been quite aligned as husband and wife, and in this moment the gulf between them is even clearer.

Unlike Fangfei, who fights for survival and will no longer compromise what she believes in, Yurong refuses to see that he has always had a choice to fight for his conscience, regardless of how difficult it might be. His constant need to pass blame instead of choosing the path he knows is right has left him a pitiful shell of the vibrant scholar he once was and so he remains shrouded in the darkness of the hall.

SIDE NOTE #1: I love the parallels between Fangfei's argument with Yurong ("So, in your opinion, the crimes of your mother and sister don't need to be atoned for, while my innocence and grievances don't need to be compensated") and Grandmother Jiang's admonishment of Minister Jiang ("Can you really let this go?...You haven't fulfilled your responsibilities as a father for all these years"). Both are men who have failed their families--my heart broke when Yurong distinguished between Fangfei and his "family"--by choosing who they decide to protect.

Camera Angles

Ok, this scene has GOT to be one of my favorites from the whole show and so much of that is due to the way it plays with camera angles and the visual language of power.

In cinematography, low-angle and high-angle shots are often paired to visually enhance the power imbalance between characters. Low-angle shots make the subject look more powerful and threatening while high-angle shots make the subject look weaker and more vulnerable.

But in this particular scene, that visual relationship is subverted.

The scene starts with Yurong taunting Princess Wanning.

He is at such a low point after being accused of assaulting Fangfei that he embraces the idea of banishment or death. He is shot at a high angle with the Princess looming over him as usual but it's clear that at this moment he has reclaimed some power now that his all-consuming despair has liberated him from his fear.

When she tries to attack him, he pushes her back and then gets up to bow mockingly. It is he who is now shot from a low angle, signifying his dominance.

But then Princess Wanning seductively leans back in the straw. As they trade barbs, she is shot from a high angle but it's clear there has been another shift in power:

Yurong: Your highness, you don't have to save me. You've fooled me for so long, I'm sure you're bored of it. Princess Wanning: I'm not bored. Shen Yurong, in this world, I'm the only one who can decide how you die. Your life is in my hands.

As noted by @dangermousie, Yurong's lack of self-interest just "makes her more interested again, because someone broken is not her thing but someone who she can potentially break more?" And we can see the fear creep over his face again once he realizes that.

Regardless of the temporary relief he might have felt challenging her, it was all an illusion, as demonstrated by the constantly shifting meaning of the scene's camera angles to maintain her power within the scene. He is completely trapped now.

SIDE NOTE #2: The fact that Princess Wanning always finds a way to make a crop out of anything even a piece of straw and bring a man to his knees (literally or metaphorically) cracks me up.

SIDE NOTE #3: This moment? Hot. Am eagerly waiting for the fanfic.

[nthspecialll]

Bill Williamson "being an asshole"

I hear quite a lot of people saying that they do not like Bill because he is an asshole but I actually don't think it is that true. Some of the points I am gonna run through are going to be shortened but I will link to longer explanations.

Let's drop directly into the one I hear the most "Bill is responsible for Sean's death," yes and no, but mostly no. A lot of people use the argument "how could Bill not see it was a trap?" however I think we forget it wasn't just him who couldn't. Micah, Bill, heck even Dutch could not see it, it is also mentioned around Lenny and Karen while they ride to Valentine, and they don't mention a problem with it either, actually, the only two characters who shows any concern are Sean and Arthur and yet they both go along with it anyways because they think they can handle it.

Quite a lot of times we see characters going on risky jobs even though it might not turn out well, including Arthur and Hosea going to the Braithewaite manor, which was literally turning up two people to a massive family with something they stole from them, but they do it anyways because they think they can handle it, and for the majority of the time they can. A job going wrong, a risky job, going wrong is not new, but as Bill points out "when you mess up it is just one of those things, but when I do it I am an idiot."

One of the many reasons why Bill is being called an idiot by many is because of the dynamite in chapter one that didn't go off, but a surprising amount of people forget that !!Arthur!! set that charge and even admit it! It is even stated other places that Bill is an explosives expert, now imagine some amature comes along, asks if you want help, you give them a simple task, they mess it up and now everyone blames you for the one thing they previously respected you for.

There are a lot of the others reason why he is being called an idiot in camp, but it is more complicated.

Bill is very eager to please, and that is not anyone, but Dutch, Bill owes Dutch everything. Bill got thrown out of the army for being homosexual and lost himself completely, completely lost faith in himself, completely lost confidence in himself, became the man he said he would never become, but Dutch saved him, pulled him out of that hole and gave him everything, just like Dutch gave Javier or Lenny everything they could dream of.

That said, Dutch does not replicate, he likes Bill, he trusts Bill, but he doesn't value Bill half as much as some of the others which weighs Bill down quite a lot. Bill also works hard for the gang, being of the gang members present at most jobs, six-point cabin, Valentine bank robbery, coach robbing, security job and so forth, he mentions it himself, while Arthur is out, so is he. He most likely does just as much coach robbing and stealing as we do.

The difference between Arthur and Bill though is that while they work about as much, Bill does not get the same recognition from the others, especially Dutch, whom he worships, this leads to a lot of jealousy and a feeling of unjustness. This is displayed as fustrated anger and snarking comments as well as the "when you mess up it is just one of those things, but when I do it I am an idiot," but also more visibly when he drunkenly speaks to John and says "everyone thinks you are Dutch's pet" - "or at least I do." He is jealous that those two have such a long leash and no consequences, yet a small mistake from him and he will never hear the end of it.

For seven entire years Bill tried to please Dutch but was only ever made fun of.

In chapter four if you meet Sonny (if you don't know who that is, be glad) Bill will come up and say "he seemed to know all about you!" a lot of people see this as Bill making fun of Arthur's sa, but taking in historical context and the dynamic between Bill and Arthur, that does not make sense, rather it sounds like Bill thinks Arthur had a consensual homosexual hookup and Bill sees a chance to bully Arthur with the very thing Arthur bullies him for. (A link to further explanation)

Then we have one of the reasons why I am not too fond of him and that while I can explain will not excuse, his abuse of Kieran. Now we are going back to the homosexuality because while this is a progressive gang, this is not a homosexual accepting gang, they bully him quite a lot and that isolates him quite a bit. Suddenly he finds a person in camp who he likes, but he doesn't know how to approach. The fustrations of being alone, as well as the lack of "protection" Kieran has, leads to these unfortunate events of him trying to flirt and show affection but not knowing how to. (Wonderful explanation)

I also see some comments on his general racism against Lenny and Javier (which he btw only does when drunk, otherwise he knows to keep his thoughts to himself), and this is very simple to explain. Bill is a man in 1899. That is it. We sometimes forget that people in 1899 were not like Dutch, they were not like Arthur, people in 1899 were racist. Finding an Arthur would be like finding a needle in a haystack, finding a Bill would be finding a haystraw in a haystack. Does that excuse it? No, but it explains it.

A Reddit post called "why I hate Bill Willimason" that I am using right now also mentions how he didn't get any leads at the majors party "because he is a massive idiot and struggles to fit in or get anyone to continue talking to him. Why on Earth was he even brought along to this event?" Because he wanted to, because he wanted to impress Dutch. Again, Bill feels in debt to Dutch, he looks up to Dutch and to some degree Hosea as well. Most likely it was only meant to be Dutch, Hosea and Arthur who went to the ball, but Bill valuneteered as well.

We hear how excited Sean is about going out with Charles, Arthur and John, saying "me and the big cheeses, love it!" This was most likely Bill's "big cheeses," he is used to going on jobs with Charles and John, but Dutch and Hosea? The important ones? That is special to him and he wanted to prove that he could do something, that he was worth something but he failed, why? Because he is not used to people, because he struggles fitting in, when you follow him around at the party you can hear him awkwardly trying to start a convosation but people judge him and ignore him. He is trying but the others are rejecting him.

I have also found this lovely sentence in the post: "Him not giving a damn about Lenny's death and never actually addressing it in the entire game reflects what a piece of trash he is." Bill Williamson grew up as a boy in the 1800, he was taught from childhood that showing emotion means he is weak, something physically beat into him in the military, and the fact that he is gay makes it even worse. Bill being gay, something seen as weak, makes him try to make up for it, he is not going to show a lot of emotion. It is not just Lenny who's death he doesn't comment on, and it is exactly because of this.

Then the redditor goes on to compare Micah and Bill and how they are both terrible but comes with this sentence: "The difference between them is that Bill is supposed to be one of the senior and more trusted gang members." But the thing this lovely person fails to acknowledge is that Bill is not given that seniority, he sleeps together with Lenny who says he "sleeps with the juniours" (even though he sleeps with Hosea? But point either way), Dutch mocks him by saying "yeah what about you Bill?" None of the other takes him seriously and he is talked down to.

Lastly there is the whole he sided with Dutch and he acused John of being the rat. Yeah, he sided with Dutch because Dutch is a god to him, Dutch is his savior, his everything and Bill trusts him, the idea of John being the rat itself was Dutch's idea that Bill just adopted. Now that said, he not completely blinded as some might think, as soon as the Pinkerton's show up in the end Javier and Bill are gone. You can use the camera to search all around camp and while Micah, Joe, Cleet and Dutch are very easy to find, Javier and Bill are not, you cannot find them. Most likely they ran away as soon as it started because they knew that the revenge was stupid and pointless and saw their own surivial more important, not to mention the clear, at least, annoyance that Bill has with Dutch in rdr1.

I am not going to go into talk about rdr1 because there he is a proper asshole, but rdr2 Bill is very defendable and I really dislike people just slapping the label "asshole" on him and calling it a day without looking deeper into who he is and why he does what he does.

Another not so fun fact, Bill's father was an alcoholist who lost his mind due to it, Bill hated it, hated all of it and his biggest fear was ending up like him... I don't think Bill ever liked himself for drinking.

(This is not a defending post and you can absolutely hate Bill if you want, this is an EXPLAINING post to make people understand him and his choices better)

[sundayworshipper]

*~Orthodoxia

«Sunday x Gn! Reader»

🪦| SFW, Angst, Undefined relationship, can be read as romantic/platonic (bed sharing, cuddling)| WC: ~11K

⚰️| CW: Inspired by the song Orthodoxia by Guchiry, misplaced religious worship (fictional religion), Sunday is a priest and cult leader, Small town cult setting AU, Third person prose (reader is referred to as [Name]), Major character death, Minor character death, Murder, SH? (Sunday), Allusion to suicide, Graphic descriptions of violence, Non sexual grooming, A bird dies, Ena=God, Gopher sucks ASS, mostly Sunday angst with reader being there sometimes, English isn’t my first language, non chronological, first fic ever （╹◡╹）

Credit for the commandments to Guchiry

A/N: This is so long 💀.. There’s a few plot holes? and the writing is kinda repetitive but i spent too long on this not to post. Extra warnings, beta read but not proofread, reader char is intentionally bland, not canon compliant/OOC-ish ∩^ω^∩

1. God’s great grace is given to those who are completely faithful.

Sunday inhaled deeply while tugging at his pristine white glove in an attempt of straightening it. In his mind, he looked like a complete mess, completely unfit for a High Priest. His Master and founder of the One True Religion, Gopher Wood, had recently taken his last breath, finally succumbing to the horrible illness that had tormented him for years. As his adopted son, the gray-haired halovian was to take on his duties post-haste. The young man only took half a day to compose himself enough to make a public statement. He probably would have taken longer, had he actually cared to pretend to grieve.

Upon deciding he was satisfied with the state of his attire, Sunday stepped out of the sascrity, taking his place at the pulpit. The gazes of all of his Master’s- no, his own followers, locked onto him, confused and impatient to hear the reason for Mr. Wood’s absence at yesterday’s service.

The man smiled, hoping that the way it didn’t reach his eyes wasn’t very obvious. After a few moments, he just decided to close them.

The fear of rejection by his followers felt as if it was rapidly piercing holes trough his insides, however, he knew that THEY wouldn’t fail him when he needed THEM most. After all, the first ever thing taught to those interested in the religion, is that good things come to those who believe.

2. Only the high priest is permitted to take God's name in vain.

“Fuck! God fucking damn it!” An unfamiliar voice screamed from an alleyway, which Sunday was just about to pass while on his routine walk. His wings twitched, and the ones on his torso tensed. He contemplated if this even counted as a violation of the second commandment, as the use of the words ‘God’ and ‘Lord’ had less restrictions than the uttering of the true name of the one they were referring to. He also thought about the possibility that ‘God’ was the three-faced idol the next town over worshipped, that maybe one of them had snuck in. He ultimately decided that using any heavenly title accompanied by such words was disrespectful, and he’d try to steer the speaker onto the right path, be they a follower of Order, Harmony, or something else entirely.

Despite the amount of information he mulled over, he really didn’t spend long thinking before rushing into the alley.

“Are you alright?” He inquired to the person that had emitted such obscene words just moments ago. Their clothes didn’t reflect those of a citizen in this town, nor the neighboring one’s. They whipped around to face him, wearing a frightened expression.

“Ah..Huh?” The emotion of surprise seemed to overshadow that of fear. Sunday gave an amused smile at this.

“Do not be afraid. I am Sunday, messenger of Ena. I heard you…Cussing, earlier. Judging by your attire, you are a foreigner, which explains that. However, I feel as if I should inform you that such an act is quite worrisome here.” He could no longer suppress his giggle, which confused the stranger.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hmm..Do not worry. Mind telling me how to address you? And, if you’re comfortable, what brings you here?” Sunday stepped closer, and leaned in towards the person.

“I’m [Name].” They replied, taking a step back. After spending a moment deciding whether or not to reveal the circumstances that led up to them ending up where they did, they concluded that he was trustworthy.

Sunday listened, and considered their words carefully.

“I see. Since you have no home, would you like to live with me, for the time being? I’ll help you find a job. All I ask is that you attend church and clean up after yourself.” He offered his hand, wings relaxing.

[Name]’s breath hitched. It wasn’t like they had many choices… If they stayed on the streets, they’d most certainly die. If they went with Sunday, the outcome had a slightly lesser chance of being the same.

After thinking very carefully, they took Sunday’s hand wordlessly.

3. Those who do harm to God's messenger, the high priest, will be expelled.

As much as Sunday wished he could forget the worshippers of Xipe existed, trade between the two towns was beneficial for everyone. After the death of Gopher Wood- who refused any sort of contact and terminated the transaction of goods-, Sunday begrudgingly sent one of his trustworthy followers to request that the old commerce deal be reinstated. And so, it was.

To the average citizen, all seemed well. However, Sunday could notice the way everyone that interacted with Xipe’s Worshippers on a regular basis attended church less and less often. He tried to brush it off as them being busy with such an important new task. This was until, on the seventh day’s service, the holiest of all, one of the traders defied the rules and interrupted Sunday’s sermon by standing directly next to him. The halovian’s heart skipped a beat, but he simply smiled.

“Good sir, are you not feeling well? This is not an appropriate place for you.” He placed a gentle hand on the trader’s shoulder. His kind act was met with a harsh slap which resounded through the entire chamber. However, his smile did not falter.

[Name], who had been sitting in the front row of pews ever since Sunday ‘rescued’ them, stood up, as did the woman next to them. They wanted to separate the two, but the priest extended a hand towards them as a sign to stop.

The atmosphere was painfully tense and uncertain, until the merchant reached into his pocket to retrieve his dagger. He then pressed it to Sunday’s throat, finally causing his expression to shift.

“You bastard… You rotten, filthy, deceptive scoundrel! You lied! All you and your good-for-nothing father have ever done is lie! You will pay for this.” The trader hissed, preparing to slice the man’s flesh. Sunday’s eyes narrowed as he effortlessly ripped the knife from his hands by the blade, cutting deep into his own palm. He then tossed it to the side, and grabbed the traitor by the neck.

“Tsk..What a shame. You were quite valuable.” He shook his head disappointedly before dragging him outside.

No one dared to follow… Except for [Name]. Before anyone could tell them not to, they sprinted after Sunday, finding him kicking his attacker in the stomach repeatedly just outside church doors. [Name] gasped, but they were cut off by the disgusting feeling of bile rising up their throat. This caused Sunday to turn his head. His eyes were wide, however, a disturbingly sweet smile stretched across his features. He delivered one final kick- to the chest this time- and quickly closed most of the distance between him and [Name].

“You shouldn’t have followed me. But, I suppose it’s my fault for not teaching you what to do in such situations.. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

[Name]’s eyes darted between the priest and the corpse he had just created. They soon murmured the first thought they could muster:

“Your hand..”

“I will be fine. Go back inside, and stay put. Service will resume shortly.” He smiled before promptly walking out of sight.

[Name] considered running for their life as far away from this town as geography would allow. However, something was holding them back. After taking a minute to process, they re-entered the church, earning dirty looks from the other members. Only the woman that had stood up alongside them earlier spoke to them.

“Don’t do that. No one wants to see what happens to those who get ‘expelled’.”

4. It is the high priest who is the rightful successor to God’s will.

Despite it not feeling like such, Sunday was once a child. He had a family as well, more or less. Although thinking of Gopher Wood as his parent made him feel sick to his stomach now, a brief period of time where this wasn’t the case existed.

After the traumatic loss of their parents, Sunday and his dear sister, Robin, were sent to an orphanage much like any other unfortunate soul in the same situation. Robin thought they’d be adopted within the year, but Sunday was already planning the way in which he’d make a living for himself the moment he became an adult. He’d save up any and all money he didn’t use strictly on survival to be able to sustain his sister when she reached the age of eighteen as well, he thought.

In a surprising turn of events, a man from a small, far away town, visited the orphanage only three months after the siblings’ arrival. He smiled the instant his gaze landed on them. Originally, Sunday thought it was because of their shared, relatively uncommon species, but he’d later come to convince himself that Gopher Wood saw something in them that day.

In what had to be record time, he had legally adopted them. As they rode the horse carriage to their new home, Robin snuggled close to her brother, and whispered an optimistic ‘I told you so’. Sunday simply smiled, for the first time since the death of their mother.

The first day felt like the most fun a recently orphaned child could have. They were given various sweet treats by their new neighbors, and a tour of the town. Everyone seemed to dote on them, which almost made the young boy finally lower his guard fully. He thought he was safe at last, and could heal.

Big mistake.

That very night, Sunday was ripped from bed by his eerily silent ‘father’. Before he could even ask what he was doing, a hand had been slapped over his mouth. He, being docile and untrained at the time, allowed himself to be molded like clay.

In less than an hour, Sunday had been exposed to things that would shatter the mind of most children into pieces. At the end of his extensive explanation, Gopher took Sunday to the dark, empty church, where he forced him to kneel in front of the altar. Because he hadn’t succumbed to the information that he had to forcibly ingest, Gopher considered him a worthy heir, and introduced him to Ena as such.

And yet, that was not the point where he stopped seeing that man as family. In fact, he never saw anything wrong with that behavior. He always felt so proud to be chosen, entrusted with such an important position.. Gopher said he was special. Smart. Nearly perfect. He was everything he could’ve ever wanted in a son. The knowing glances they exchanged as Robin discovered the surface rules of the religion at the pace that everyone else except for him did made Sunday feel good.

For about a year, Sunday loved his life. He felt as if he finally had a purpose..

On the night of a seventh,going into first day of the week, in the latter half of November, Sunday found himself choking back tears on the bathroom floor, knees hugged tightly to his chest along with his discarded shirt. Gopher Wood, that monster, sat behind him, trimming away at the child’s lower wings. When he was done, he’d move on to permanently tainting them black, like his own.

‘The truest act of devotion’ he called it. To prove their loyalty to Ena, high priests had to discard something they held dear at a young age.. For halovians, their wings were naturally their pride and joy, so, the dark haired man picked those for him. Sunday asked to be allowed to choose something, anything else, but his request was declined.

Of course, this wasn’t any form of religious practice. Gopher had made it up to further mold his poor victim into what he needed him to be. Every time the boy dared to show any feelings regarding that action, he reminded him that as the high priest, all his actions were carried out trough God’s will.

Sunday never wore a base layer of clothing that didn’t almost perfectly match his new wing color after that. He felt hideous, and he’d rather have people think he lost his wings completely than show off the cruel defilement he’d endured.

Since then, Sunday could no longer see him as a father. Of course, he still respected and obeyed him, as not doing so would be disrespectful to THEM, too. After all, priests were naught but a mirror of their God’s desires.

5. God’s teachings are the divine providence of this world.

Sunday tossed in bed, wings wrapping around his face as he groaned quietly. He was tormented by thought, and couldn’t sleep.

Upon the passage of one hour, he rose from his spot, and slowly stepped out of his room. [Name] slumbered on his couch, as they had since the first time Sunday brought them home. He felt bad for not being able to provide them a proper bed, and made a mental note to work on that soon. After all, it wasn’t like it cost much, or… anything at all. He was just a very busy man.

The priest then stepped on the single creaky floorboard in the entire house, alerting his roommate.

“Sunday..?” They yawned, rubbing their eyes as they blinked them open.

“Ah. I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“It’s alright,, but what are you doing up so late? And why are you going out?”

“Mm. I need a walk, to clear my head. I’m finding it hard to rest well tonight.”

“Me too. I barely even fell asleep a few minutes ago, and it was so light.” [Name] stretched their back as they spoke.

“I see. Do you want to join me?” He offered, and the other person excitedly accepted, standing up and almost stumbling. Sunday caught them, helping them to stand better. They gave a grateful look in response.

The two then exited the house, the cold night breeze gently biting at their skin. They set a comfortable pace as Sunday directed them to the woods across the river that served as town border. [Name] hadn’t gotten the chance to go there yet, as it was ill-advised to venture too far from the town.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?”

“Don’t you trust me? Do you think I’m going to murder you for your sins?” Sunday smiled, turning his face away so [Name] couldn’t see.

“I do! It’s just that… Wait, have I sinned?”

“Of course you have. You are still new to our religion, you’re bound to make mistakes. Even devout believers sin sometimes, but God forgives all, therefore so do I.”

“Do you sin?”

“Me? No. Sinning would be disgraceful to our Lord. I mean, if even the high priest doesn’t carry himself as THEY intended, how would any normal person be inclined to either?”

“True.. Doesn’t it get exhausting having to be perfect all the time, though?”

“Not at all. Do you know the fifth commandment?”

“God’s teachings are the divine providence of this world?” [Name] cocked their head at him, almost tripping on a fallen branch in the process.

“Very good. As the high priest, I have to know these teachings better than any other mortal. The stronger one’s knowledge, the stronger they feel God’s love.”

“Oh. I never thought about it like that.”

“Well, now you have.” He halted, left arm occupying its spot behind his back as usual. [Name] stopped as well, confused.

“Why’d you stop? Aren’t walks supposed to be continuous?”

“Yes…Would you mind pausing here for a moment? If I’m not mistaken, this is the clearing I used to come to for respite when I was a child. I have no time for such things anymore, but it brings me a sense of nostalgia.”

[Name] nodded, and awkwardly walked closer to Sunday. There didn’t appear to be any sitting spots, so they just took a moment to appreciate nature’s beauty.

Not much time later, Sunday decided it had gotten far too late to be outside any longer. As they trekked back home, the priest noticed [Name] become slower by the second. He offered to carry them, and in a moment of exhausted weakness, they accepted. They’d soon fall unconscious in his arms.

The following morning, [Name]’d find themselves in Sunday’s bed, with him nowhere to be found.

Confused, they stepped into the living room. Sure enough, the man was curled up on the couch.

6. To disobey God is to deviate from Paradise.

[Name] was integrating nicely into the town already. While trying to decide what job they should try land, they picked up gardening as a short pastime. Sunday had graciously lent them a patch of his backyard to plant things in, so long as they managed to keep it free of weeds. They agreed, and were doing a great job so far. The first thing they tried was strawberries, as it was the optimal season for planting them.

[Name] decided to ask the neighbors to see if anyone had any runners they could borrow.

“Hello!” They waved at an older lady who was conveniently planting something in her own garden. She lifted her head, smiled, and waved back.

“…Ahem. I was wondering if you had any strawberry runners? I want to grow strawberries… I don’t have any money right now, but I’ll pay you for them someday!”

“Ah, such nonsense.. Since Mr. Wood saved us, money is obsolete.”

“Huh? Then why do people still have jobs?”

“So they don’t get bored, of course! If you’re worried about payment, pay with a favor. Give some to Mr. Sunday when they’re ripe. I’m sure he hasn’t had strawberries since Miss Robin… Ah, nevermind, I’ll fetch ‘em for you.” The lady hobbled into her house, leaving [Name] confused. They made a mental note to ask Sunday about this ‘Robin’ someday.

The woman soon returned, and handed the runners to [Name], eagerly.

“Here you go, dearie. Give some to me too, if I’m still around by then…” she chuckled, trailing off into a cough.

“Don’t say that.. But, I will! Thanks so much!” They waved again, and sped off to plant the strawberries.

About three months later, the fruits were ripe. [Name] was utterly delighted… They looked absolutely perfect, as if it was obvious from a glance that they had the perfect texture and amount of juice. They quickly collected them all in a basket, and ran inside, where Sunday was actually home, for once. [Name] was happy about this, and hurried to separate the basket’s contents into bowls. The priest tilted his head at them, curious.

“I see you’ve made good use of the land I gave to you.” He hummed observantly.

“Mhm! I couldn’t have done it without the grandma across the street, though. I have to give her a portion back, but.. She asked for something else as payment.”

“Oh?”

[Name] handed Sunday a full bowl, happily.

“She wanted me to give this to you! She said you probably haven’t eaten any since some Robin something something..”

Sunday froze, and his breathing paused abruptly.

“Who’s Robin anyway? It sounds like you know her…”

“Robin is a sinner who denied our Lord’s presence in her life. She is where she deserves to be right now.” His voice had a weird edge, almost as if it was breaking.

“She’s not someone you should concern yourself with again. Ahem; thank you for the gift. It was very thoughtful of you. Send my regards to the neighbor, too.” He left, strawberry bowl in hand.

[Name] frowned, dejectedly dragging themselves and one of the remaining strawberry bowls to the neighbor’s house. She was in the yard once again, so they just walked up to her.

“Ma’am! I picked the strawberries today!” They handed her the dish.

“Thank you, dear. You gave them to Mr. Sunday too, yes?”

“Of course. He said to give you his regards. But, something weird happened. When I asked him about Robin, he just said she was a sinner. That wasn’t much of an answer, so could you tell me more, please?”

“Really? Hm. I wouldn’t expect him to be that cold towards the memory of his own sister…”

“…What?”

“I’ve said too much. Please leave.”

[Name] frowned, but did as asked. It was taking them some time to accept the fact that there were certain topics everyone seemed to get tense around..

7. To harbor doubts about God is to suffer the disintegration of thought.

Gopher Wood always despised the neighboring town, in which he was born, raised, and first established his religion. He hated not having control over every single atom there, so, he left. However, he wasn’t always completely unwilling to maintain a cordial relationship with them.

When his daughter, Robin, reached the age of twelve, he assigned her the role of ‘peacekeeper’. She was to befriend politicians and people of note, engage in the culture there. and report any intel she could’ve gained back to Gopher, who would then try to usurp the town and convert its residents to worshippers of Ena, ergo himself, by commandment fourteen.

By her 13th birthday, Robin’s reports suspiciously all turned into ‘They didn’t tell me anything’. The high priest soon grew skeptical, and ordered Sunday to get an answer out of her by any means necessary.

And so, he did.

He approached her door, taking note of the unfamiliar tune she appeared to be loudly humming. Due to growing older, they now had separate rooms. This didn’t help their relationship whatsoever, as their paths in life were already pulling them apart.

“Sister?” He knocked.

“Come in!” She called out, ceasing her singing. Sunday did, avoiding her gaze.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Sit down.” She gestured to the empty spot on her bed, next to herself. Sunday shook his head, which felt like a dagger being pierced trough robin’s heart.

“Oh. Okay… What did you want to talk about?”

“Master ranted to me earlier about the lack of new information regarding the neighboring town lately. I found this weird, so I just wanted to ask you about it. Please be honest with me, are you hiding something?”

Robin’s eyes widened, before drifting downward. She dipped her head in a slight nod.

“Brother… I’m sorry, I meant to tell you earlier, but I feared your response. I..” she inhaled, then exhaled. “…I worship the Harmony.”

Sunday stared at her with the most disgust his face had ever held. He began to slowly shake his head.

Robin stood, paced over to him, and grabbed his hand, holding it close to her chest.

“Please, just listen to me. I discovered something that will change your view on-“ She trailed off as she met his gaze. It was evident that there was no possible way to reason with him. At that moment, it didn’t feel like she was even looking at her sibling; but rather, at the man that destroyed him.

Defeated, she let go of his hand, and sat back on her mattress. As she watched her beloved brother leave her room, she accepted that her days were now numbered.

8. To blaspheme God is to deny one's own existence.

Robin wore a gentle smile as she was walked down the path to a completely empty plain by her brother. The girl was dressed in pitch black robes, a symbol of her betrayal and a way to make her death far more painful. And yet, she didn’t seem all that bothered.

“Sunday..” she hummed.

“You’re not supposed to speak.”

“I’ll be dead soon either way. What’s one more sin?”

“…”

“I love you. Please don’t blame yourself, I forgive you.”

Sunday didn’t reply to this, and pushed her towards her final resting place.

“Press your back to the stake, please.”

Robin obliged, placing her hands behind the wooden pole as well, without even having to be told. Sunday, under the watchful gaze of Gopher Wood, tied them together, then her torso to the stake.

A citizen then dumped the wood Gopher had hand picked the day prior as the fire fuel to Robin’s feet, before backing up. As per the high priest’s request, Sunday was to light it.

The heir felt nothingness rip and tear away at his being. As his Master placed a flaming torch in his hand, Sunday thought about all the things he wanted to do right now. He wanted to cry, but that would be ‘disgraceful’. He wanted to grab his sister and run, far away from here, and start a new life together, but they were just children, with a horde of angry, violent adults behind them. He wanted to fall to his knees and scream in despair, but the raven-like man behind him would definitely punish him severely for that. As his legs trembled, threatening to give out, Sunday wondered what the worst consequence could even be. Upon remembering the ruined state his wings were in and that he had another pair in an incredibly visible location, he took several deep breaths to calm himself down.

“I’m sorry.” He mouthed, before pressing the torch’s tip to the firewood.

9. God sees, but THEY never save.

Sunday inhaled deeply, eyes shut. The winter air numbed his lungs, allowing the cold to overwhelm his body. He felt no pain, or any physical sensation at all. He simply felt like pure consciousness.

“Brother!” The worried voice of his sister called out to him. Alarmed, he exhaled, and ended his meditative state.

“What is it?” He questioned, tone unusually flat.

Robin held her hands out to him. They contained a baby dove. It was barely even covered in pin feathers, meaning it couldn’t have been more than seven days old.

“I was walking to Mr. Gary’s farm because I promised to help feed his animals, but i found this hatchling crying by a tree… I can’t find its nest, or parents, b-but it’ll freeze to death if we don’t do something!” She sobbed. Sunday examined the tiny avian closely.

“Yes…I do suppose the best course of action would be to raise it ourselves.” He crossed his arms.

“Why do you sound so hesitant..?”

Sunday was worried about what his Master would do upon discovering the animal. He wondered if its wings would be clipped, like his own were. The boy pressed a hand to his mouth in thought, eventually settling on the conclusion that there would be no reason to commit such act, as it was only done to himself so he could prove his worth to Ena.

“Fine. Give it to me.” He demanded, and the girl obliged.

The siblings rushed back home, where Robin filled a shallow bowl with warm water. Sunday placed the chick in it, but held on, just in case. It let out chirps of increasing volume, which the boy found endearing. He soon let go, stroking under the bird’s chin instead. Robin gasped, and leaned in closer to observe this. Her brother interacting with animals was a truly beautiful sight.

“How long will it take until it’s grown? I can’t wait to teach it how to fly!” She smiled widely, blinking up at Sunday.

“Huh? Why would we do that..?” He raised an eyebrow.

“So we can release it?” Robin now looked confused.

“What? You can’t be serious. What even is the point of saving it now if you just want to send it to die later?” He pulled the bowl closer to himself, protectively.

“It won’t die! It’d just be cruel to keep it inside for the rest of its life!” She argued, straightening her posture.

“It will.”

“No, it won’t!” The girl gripped the edge of the table. Sunday pinched the bridge of his nose, and turned his back to her.

“Fine. If you insist, you’re now responsible for its well-being until the end of the next week, when you must release it into the wild.”

“Fine.” Robin huffed, and pulled the bird and its makeshift bath back towards herself.

Seven more days passed, in which the dove grew out all the needed feathers for flight. Robin was absolutely ecstatic, and dragged Sunday outside.

“Okay..How do we do this?” She asked.

“What, you made a decision that could be the difference between life and death for another living being without any research?”

“Well, when you put it like that-“

“Do you admit defeat?”

“No! I know it’ll survive! Just tell me how to help it fly.”

Sunday simply shrugged, which upset Robin. After some contemplation, she placed the dove down on the ground, and held her breath waiting.

The bird soon spread its wings, and departed from the ground. The young girl squealed happily, and watched with wide eyes. She then turned, grinning triumphantly at her brother. It was then that she noticed the tall, dark figure looming right behind him.

“Master? What brings you here?”

Gopher Wood simply smiled eerily, and Sunday grimaced, eyes fixed on the now flying dove. A chill of deep dread struck Robin’s spine, making her turn again… Just in time to see the razor sharp talons of a raven dig into the body of the smaller bird. Right as its beak was about to rip flesh off, the girl ran into the house, sobbing loudly.

Sunday and Gopher kept watching. The scene was horrible, gory and disheartening, to say the least.

After a period of silence, the boy spoke up.

“That was a trained raven.”

“What a keen eye.”

“…Why? Robin didn’t have to see that. She’s just a child.”

“I disagree. It was her choice to free the dove, wasn’t it? She has to learn that her actions have consequences, and that defying the concept of order won’t get her anywhere.”

Sunday wordlessly nodded, before walking off.

On the way to the clearing he’d claimed as solely his- which he only turned to when he was having ‘sinful’ ideas that he felt too scared to even think about in the confines of the city- he wondered if Ena would really want one of THEIR creations to suffer, just to teach another a valuable lesson. He then considered that THEY might not truly even care about anyone and anything at all. If he could see and intervene in anything happening in the world, Sunday would try to save every being. But, in the end, he was not God, and THEY were.

10. God listens, but THEY never speak.

“Father..” a weak voice on the other side of the confessional threatened to break. Sunday straightened his posture, as he instinctively always did when spoken to, even if he couldn’t be seen.

“Speak your sorrows, child of the Order.”

“I can’t take it any longer. It feels… It feels like my prayers are falling on deaf ears. My life has only been spiraling into misery… Hell, even a sign would help loads!”

Sunday closed his eyes, thinking deeply.

“I understand how you must feel. However, you should know THEY don’t often give ‘signs’. You may share your troubles with me, and I promise to try my hardest to help you.”

“You’d really do that?”

“I would.” He nodded. He’d trained himself to be aware of his body language and what every single difference in stance could be interpreted as. So, he applied that even when alone, hidden, or in an otherwise casual situation.

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you… May I ask a question first?”

“Hm?”

“Do THEY give you signs? Speak to you? Anything at all?”

The halovian fell silent. He didn’t know. Ever since he’d taken over Gopher Wood’s duties, he felt like a failure for being ‘spiritually disconnected’ from the Lord.

“The answer is what you think.” Was what he settled on.

The person on the other side sighed. The next time they spoke, their voice sounded muffled.

“I’m a murderer. I don’t deserve to live. Do you think THEY would forgive me if I..”

“Don’t say that. You are stronger than you think. Why do you consider yourself a murderer?”

“I had an argument with my little sister. It was over something so stupid, I don’t even remember what it was. I was so angry that I pushed her. She hit her head on the kitchen counter, and… oh god. There was so much blood. I saw her brains, Father. I will never forget the sight. I see it every time I sleep, every time I close my eyes, every time I see things that remind me of her. Please, how do I make it stop?” They sobbed.

Sunday was silent, eyes unfocusing as the vivid memory of Robin’s body being charred alive by flames tore its way out of the corner of his brain he’d banished it to.

“Father?”

“…Apologies. That is a lot to process, I was thinking of the optimal way to help. How long ago did this accident happen?”

“I don’t know. It could be anywhere from a few days to several months. After I buried her, everything’s been a blur. She was everything I had left… i hate to think that if I treated her nicer, showed her how much I appreciate her; if I tried to understand her better and didn’t let my emotions get the better of me, she’d still be here.”

“Yes.. You said you buried her body?”

“I did.”

“Where?”

“…”

“I see. You don’t have to tell me. I can feel that you are genuinely remorseful. Fear not, the Lord will forgive you, and I’m sure your sister would too. As for the mental scarring, I can only hope that your confession has lifted some weight off your shoulders. You are not alone. If you ever feel as if you need to take drastic measures, I hereby permit you to seek me in my free time. Your life matters, and I’d rather a slight inconvenience to myself than lose another life. It gets easier, I promise. Hardship is the key to happiness.” Although he was saying all this, he barely even believed or understood himself. He’d never had anyone comfort him when he was in a similar situation, nevermind attempt to help him. When he tried to turn to Ena for solace, he was only met with silence… Which was to be expected. However, the toll it took on him was greater than he could’ve ever expected. In any case, he hoped he’d helped the member of his community, even slightly.

The sound of the fabric belonging to the other person’s clothes could be heard- presumably them standing up. It was then followed by footsteps. Sunday groaned loudly once he figured they’d have long exited the church, and placed his face in his hands. This was going to be a long day.

Upon returning home way past midnight, Sunday looked uncharacteristically horrible. His eyes were bloodshot, his wings drooped pathetically as he slouched, including his ‘deformed’ second pair, which usually stayed tucked into his coat.

“Sunday!” [Name] ran to the door as soon as it opened. As they bore witness to the state of the halovian, they fell into baffled silence. He blinked blearily, far too tired to be embarrassed.

“I’m sorry. Go to sleep.” He mumbled, trying to push past them and towards the couch, as the two had traded sleeping utilities after their late-night walk.

“No! Are you okay?”

“Excuse me?”

“You look horrendous. I’m worried.”

“Thanks.” He deadpanned.

“I obviously didn’t mean it that way. It’s just not like you to be so… improper. Woah, wait, you have four wings!?”

“I don’t want to talk about either of those things. Please move, I’d really like to sleep.”

[Name] frowned, and instead of letting Sunday go to sleep on the near back-breaking couch when he was clearly in no condition to, they intertwined their hand with his, pulling him towards the bedroom. Before Sunday had the chance to protest, they’d reached their destination.

“What are you doing?”

“What, you said you wanted to sleep.”

“Are you implying you want to… share a bed?”

“Yeah! That’s not sinful, right?”

“I suppose not.” Sunday gave up.

“Great. I’ll let you change, call me back in when you’re done.”

Sunday didn’t know what had happened to him by the beginning of the next hour. He found himself cuddling his housemate, face buried in their chest as their fingers carded through his hair. If he wasn’t so far gone, he would’ve felt shame to the depths of his bones.

As [Name]’s breathing and heart rate slowed steadily, so did their hand. Sunday smiled, slowly shifting their position until they’d fully swapped roles. While he appreciated being on the receiving end of affection for once, it was just his nature to want to return any kind act done for him.

He draped a wing around their body, figuring he’d finally found a use for the unsightly body part.

11. God knows, but THEY never teach.

Sunday’s hands balled into fists at his sides. He’d been staring at the glass casing containing the stone slate which the commandments had been first carved into for what must’ve been many hours now. He read them over, and over, and over, and over… Despite the fact that his mind was already similar to the slate, in the sense that the words had been permanently etched into both. Every day, he could feel himself growing more and more…Hateful. And so, he decided connecting with the Lord again would be the best course of action.

Unfortunately, he was wrong. As he obsessively examined and carefully thought over every word of the sacred obligations, he could only form more and more questions… More anger. More doubt. The contradictions between several entries now seemed painfully obvious. For example, it was specified that the high priest was the exception to commandment two, but no such thing exists for the numbers nine, ten and eleven… But, communication between God and the high priest was supposed to be the basis of the religion.

As the gears in Sunday’s brain turned, he began to laugh. How could he have been so foolish? These were all just lies. Lies made up by a selfish man who desired nothing more than to rule the whole world by himself. As his laughter grew, so did his fury.

Sunday dug his fingers into the side of the glass; fragile, as all things in this forsaken town. If everyone was under the permanent illusion of safety, why was there any need for precaution? It was so bad, that nobody locked their doors anymore. No one would want to break into your house and kill you, after all. The most likely murderer was the person you trusted enough to live with. As these realizations plagued his mind, Sunday’s hands only gripped the long since shattered shards of glass tighter, and tighter. It hurt so pleasantly right now. Although, soon enough, he dropped them in favor of grasping the stone tablet itself. As he turned around, his eyes darted through the church. He needed something to break it with.

After looking for a considerable amount of time, Sunday decided he’d just fling it at the wall.

As the glorified boulder was about to leave his hand, he hesitated. What if he was wrong? This definitely had to be a misunderstanding. Maybe he just wasn’t open minded enough to understand the deeper meaning of the commandments. After all, every older resident seemed so happy living the way they were. The younger generation- including himself- would grow into doing the same, surely… God is good, Sunday thought.

God is loving.

The priest lowered his hand slowly. He rotated back to his original position, regret filling him at the sight of the broken display and bloodied glass scattered across the floor. If he were to look into his hand, he’d notice the crimson seeping from his open wound was quickly transferring to the commandments.

Sunday closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He just had to clean this up, find a replacement case, and no one would ever know. His sin could stay between him and the Lord, forever.

As for understanding all the contradictions, he was now sure that he just had to try a little harder. After all, God doesn’t teach. For a start, this probably meant THEY wanted THEIR subjects to learn from their and others’ mistakes throughout their life.

Yes, this had to be the solution. This was nothing but another trial for Sunday to overcome; a test of faith.

12. The entire Word of God is passed down through THEIR oracle, the high priest.

In an extremely rare occurrence, Sunday had found himself with a few hours of free time on his hands. He decided to spend one of them browsing the local grocery store, deciding on what snack to purchase for [Name], as a token of appreciation. He hadn’t asked them about their tastes outright, so he was attempting to piece them together from the few, yet valuable conversations they’d had. This was proving to be a more challenging task than expected, but he wasn’t about to give up.

“I believe this is what you’re looking for.” A voice coming from Sunday’s right spoke sweetly. He turned his head, confused. Before him stood a person, with an appearance so strikingly out of place that he managed how they even managed to make it into the city. They had white hair, parted into short twin tails on either side of their head. They also had long curtain bangs, however, the upper part of their hairstyle didn’t even utilize as much as half of their locks. The expanse of white fell down to the floor, dragging along it whenever they moved. They wore simple, yet eye grabbing make up, which nicely complemented their tanned skin. Their eyes appeared to naturally stay shut for the entirety of Sunday’s examination of them, not displaying any of the twitching that the eyes of a normal person forcing them to stay closed would. What was really out of place, though, was their clothing. They wore a tight, black dress which was about as long as their hair. It was rather revealing, especially in the chest and leg area. Whilst the town Sunday lived in didn’t exactly enforce ‘purity culture’ anymore, it was still unusual to dress immodestly. Additionally, the sort of corset piece wrapped around their midriff and neck appeared to be real gold, solidifying their status as an outsider. The followers of Order weren’t exactly wealthy, as money had not been used since the founding of the religion, and Gopher Wood considered the concept to be inherently unfair. Of course, this didn’t stop him from continuing to hoard any currency he came across, to be able to afford imported garments and accessories of the finest quality for only himself and his children.

“Pardon?” He narrowed his eyes, inspecting the item. It was one of the choices he’d been considering for [Name]’s snack, although he was still second-guessing himself.

“This is their favorite.” The foreigner extended their hand further, as if urging him to take it.

“What are you talking about?” Sunday was becoming uncomfortable.

“[Name]? Your.. Friend. This is their favorite. You are looking for something to get them, no?”

“Hah..I see. You’re one of Xipe’s slaves.” He chuckled bitterly, and grabbed a duplicate of the item they were holding off the shelf.

“I’d strongly urge you to return to your home, if you know what’s best for you. Good day.” He turned to leave, but a hand as cold as death itself gripped his wrist with a hold that would be sure to cut off his circulation if it was kept too long.

“Is this all the thanks I get? You would’ve spent another hour deciding if it weren’t for me.” The person pouted in mock offense.

“Stop. Get out of my mind, please.” He tried to pull away, to no avail.

“And what if I don’t? Are you going to call upon Ena to save you? Oh wait..” They laughed.

“Tsk…Do not use THEIR sacred name with such mocking purpose.”

“I really don’t get what you see in THEM. I mean, THEY’RE such a deadbeat! The Great One would never let THEIR subjects suffer.”

“Says the one whose idol abandoned THEIR town without leaving as much as a divine messenger.”

“Hm? But I am the High Priest.”

“High Priest? My a-.. ahem… That does not sound very likely. Clearly, you’re blessed in some form, but knowing Penacony, they would hold a week-long festival in your honor if you gave substantial proof of this. Who are you, really?”

The person smiled, and let go of his now bruised wrist. They’d still not opened their eyes once.

“Oh, would you look at the time. Well, I should get going. Until we meet again~” they waved, and walked away, humming an awfully familiar tune.

Sunday would then stand in the middle of the aisle, snack in hand as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He wondered if the person was trying to convince him to turn to the Harmony, or just teasing him. What’s worse is that if it was the former, he believed he might’ve actually considered.

The halovian soon dragged himself home, deep in thought. As he opened the door to see [Name] sitting on the couch as they had been doing more often lately, Sunday smiled. He sat next to them, far closer than usual.

“…I got you something.” He handed them the snack. [Name] gasped quietly.

“Ohh.. Did you know this was my favorite? Thank you so much!” They hugged him.

“Really? Must’ve been a lucky guess. In any case, consider this payment for the strawberries.” Sunday shut his eyes. Perhaps the worshipper of Xipe wasn’t all that horrible.

13. God’s aims are the aims of the world

Lately, Sunday had been frequenting the church in the dead of night. Since the meeting with the strange worshipper of Harmony, he’d been questioning his faith more than ever before. A part of him struggled with the same urge to run that he’d felt in Robin’s final moments. However, instead of his fear of angry, violent adults holding him back now, it was the fear of repercussions for becoming one.

He considered himself weak minded. He knew very well what he was getting into before accepting the position of high priest. He knew he’d have to murder and hurt, and yet… He never truly could. A secret Sunday swore he’d take to the grave, was that he never truly punished traitors as God commanded. Even after the incident with the tradesman, the worst he could muster was kicking him into unconsciousness and dropping him off into Penacony’s territory. That very night, he prayed to the God he himself had just betrayed, that the man was taken to a hospital. In his heart, Sunday still believed that if he were to implore the Lord to forgive those who turned away from them, THEY would.

Sunday had what one might call a heart of gold. He wanted the best for everyone, even if it directly contradicted the teachings of his Master, and the undeniable holy rules given to the world by God. However, his constant desire to help came at the cost of his own sanity- fact which he was acutely aware of. He considered it a small price to pay for the joy of others.

In his mind, he was responsible for the actions of each and every one of The Order’s followers. If they sinned, it was purely his fault for not managing to stop them. He’d be the one spending eternity in the burning embers, while any who sinned under him and died before he did, would be forgiven and led to the peaceful afterlife they strived for all their lives. If he’d explain this to any sane person, they’d most likely immediately pick up on how specific, flawed, and barely comprehensible his logic was… Unfortunately, he never would.

“You look tired.” The sickly sweet voice of the strange worshipper called from behind Sunday, making him halt.

“I know for a fact that I locked the gates.” He crossed his arms, but didn’t give the person the pleasure of looking at them.

“What can I say, I have my ways… Anyway, I don’t think burying yourself in your delusions is very healthy. You should rest.”

“I must say, you’re very bold. You simply can’t hold yourself back from insulting the Lord in front of THEIR messenger, hm?”

“I am simply stating a fact. You’re starting to doubt THEIR very existence, and you know that. If you acknowledge your situation, why do you still choose to indulge?”

Sunday did not speak for a long period of time.

“If you truly were a High Priest, you’d understand. God is all I have. I’ve invested so much time into becoming what I am now, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself otherwise.”

“And you still don’t follow the very principle that supposedly founded your religion. Clearly, deep down, what you want is to help everyone. You’d be well suited for the Harmony…”

“No. The harmony dictates that everyone must live through trial and error. That’s such unnecessary suffering, that can simply be avoided by protecting everyone.”

“Learning through mistakes? Isn’t that what you ultimately decided Ena’s ideal was, when you noticed people making mistakes over and over again, even when the whole point of this religion is to establish ultimate control and peace to the point where people will actively seek out pain to break the monotony?”

“…Then, I was mistaken. I never saw the similarities to the Harmony before. I pray THEY can forgive me as I try to truly understand THEIR commandments once more. Thank you for telling me this. I shall… Become a better fit for my role, through any means necessary.”

“Really? Or will you do as you’ve always done, and continue to refuse to harm anyone as your God dictates?”

“…Even if I were to do that, which I will earnestly try not to, the spiritual consequences would fall onto me, solely. I’m the one not doing my job, I-“

“Sunday! When was the last time you’ve uttered or thought something that makes any sense, at all!? Look deeply within yourself, you’ll realize how absurd you’re being.”

The halovian simply smiled. Perhaps, long ago, that would’ve been true. However, that was no longer a possibility. Any time he’d come to the same realization, his being would instinctively suffocate itself with a half-hearted explanation that would seem plausible enough at first glance, until he’d begin to deconstruct it, at which point the process would repeat.

The stranger’s expression shifted into a sorrowful one. They’d really tried to help him, but he was truly too far gone.

“I see. I hope your soul will someday be able to find peace.” They left, giving Sunday the opportunity to continue destroying himself in peace.

14. God and the high priest shall be regarded as one and the same.

Gopher Wood’s amber eyes intently observed Mikhail. His head was informally resting on the table, wings fluttering in anticipation as he waited for his ally to finish reading the documents he’d presented him with.

“So? What do you think?” He finally spoke, having grown impatient.

“I’m not done yet..”

“Well, you’ve read most of it. What do you think so far, then?”

“I didn’t know you had such little patience, Mr. Wood.”

“Yes, yes..Well, now you know.”

“I don’t consider it appropriate to share my opinion on something that I don’t fully understand. I ask that you continue waiting.”

“Fine.” Gopher scoffed, and stood up.

“I’m going to get another drink. Want anything?”

“No, thank you.”

Mikhail sighed as he continued reading. Him and Gopher had met just over three amber eras ago, under inexplicable circumstances. At the time, it seemed they had similar ideals for the future of Penacony- a beautiful town, ravaged by an unfortunate dispute. The two quickly struck up a friendship, or at the very least, a cordial working relationship. At first, they agreed that their end goal was to join The Family, a union of towns and cities who worshipped a god known as Xipe and believed in the concept of Harmony. The men slowly gained the respect of most Penaconians that, too,wished for peace, who allowed them to become something akin to a two-person government.

After all that, they successfully completed their goal. Although, soon after, Gopher began acting unusually. He distanced himself from Mikhail, only talking to him to ask odd questions, such as ‘if he ever wished the entire town’s residents could be puppets’. The blue-haired man grew incredibly concerned for his partner’s wellbeing, but could never reach Gopher to speak to him about this topic.

A few days prior, he had invited him out to drinks to discuss ‘an exciting new discovery’. They now found themselves here, Gopher having handed Mikhail a folder full of papers, detailing the proof of the existence of another deity before Xipe. THEY were known by the name of Ena, and represented Order, which was awfully close to the concept of Harmony, besides the awfully concerning attitude towards those who desired to follow their own path in life.

Just as Mikhail finished reading, the halovian returned.

“Are you done yet?”

“Yes…?”

“Wonderful! So?”

“I’m… Not quite sure I understand. Do you want to leave The Family and pursue this religion? Do you even have any current proof this, ‘Ena’ even exists..?”

“Oh, THEY don’t!” He giggled, joyfully taking a sip of his wine. Just as Mikhail was preparing to open his mouth, he continued:

“Not anymore, at least. But if we can make people believe THEY do, we’ll have them wrapped around our fingers. They’ll just do anything we want under the guise of religion. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? There can truly be peace upon Penacony.”

“…How drunk are you?”

“Plenty.”

“You’re not thinking straight. That would never work, it’d just be defying human nature. Besides, if the ones who continue trying to end our lives for opposing them can’t even agree with Harmony, what makes you think they’d want to obey the words of an imaginary God?”

“Oh, them? They have no place in Penacony either way. If I were to execute my plan, I’d be doing a great favor to everyone.” He grinned.

“That’s enough. Get up. I’m taking you home, and you’re going to sleep off all that wine.” Mikhail stood, tossing the documents into the nearest trash.

“I know what I’m doing, my dear Misha. I’ve been fantasizing about this since before we even met… It’s my greatest wish, and what’s the best for Penacony- no, the world, even! Why must you be so cruel~?”

“…You’re not who I thought you were. Why.. Why would you even say that?”

“Mm.. Tell me one thing, then.” He rounded the table, until he was face to face with Mikhail. He then grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him even closer, grinning. “How long do you think a society under the Order’s rule will last? Hell, even with the most haphazard basis I can throw together in one night?”

“Don’t-“

“Answer me.”

“…A decade, at most.”

“Very well.” Gopher hummed, and let go.

“I say… Triple that, before it spreads to Penacony. At least a century after that until the downfall.”

“What are you planning to do..?”

“You’ll see.”

“You’re,, a psychopath. This will never work! Even if it somehow lasted for your entire lifetime, you’d never find a successor gullible enough to extend your little cult’s existence for that long.”

Gopher’s smile widened sinisterly.

“Cult? I prefer the word social experiment. Anyway, I should get going now. I heard the next town over has little contact with outsiders, and I’d like to get there before that changes.” He turned, and began to walk.

“Until we meet again, Misha.”

15. God is absolute.

After his second encounter with what seemed to be Xipe’s chosen one, Sunday felt completely drained. He hadn’t fully felt like a living, breathing entity since he was maybe six years old, but the mental haze that affected him worsened with each significant event that happened to him. He stumbled home at the same time that the sun began to peek over the horizon.

Despite the fact that he returned to sleeping on the couch after the night him and [Name] cuddled, he didn’t feel like sleeping alone at this moment.

Following several minutes of hesitation, Sunday opened the bedroom door, cautiously stepping in. Of course, his friend was sleeping peacefully, and luckily for him, deeply. The man stalked over to the closet door, which had been divided into halves to accommodate both his and [Name]’s clothes. He quickly discarded his current outfit, changing into a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. The shirt rode up his stomach slightly, as he hadn’t ever found the time to poke wing holes into his casual garments; therefore, his wings were just hanging naturally.

He slowly sat down on the unoccupied side of the bed, pausing to see if the sleeping person would wake. When they didn’t, he made himself more comfortable, even pulling half of the blanket over himself.

That action caused [Name] to turn. Sunday was preparing an apology speech for waking them, but they were unbothered. They grabbed his arm, snuggling it. The halovian took a moment to process, upper wings tensing in surprise. He was still not used to being touched, but he’d feel too bad pushing them away. So, instead of getting any rest, he just awkwardly stared at them for hours, frozen in place.

Finally, [Name] yawned, attempting to stretch. They were stopped by the sensation of a warm, solid object being held between their arms. When their eyes shot open, they barely stopped themselves from screaming at the sight of Sunday, who looked at them with a tired frown.

“Sorry,, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just feeling unwell, and I thought…” He didn’t finish his sentence.

“It’s alright. I’m just, a little surprised. You don’t really seem like the type of guy who’d enjoy this kind of stuff.”

“‘Stuff’…?”

“Yeah. You know, like, closeness.”

“Really? Hm.” He turned his head away, deep in thought.

“I guess you’re right.“ He nearly whispered, pulling his arm away.

The silence that followed was painfully awkward. So much so, that [Name] decided to speak the first thought that came to mind:

“Can I touch your wings?”

“Sorry?”

“I want to touch your wings. They look super fluffy.”

Sunday narrowed his eyes, wondering where they obtained such courage. A halovian’s wings were just about sacred, and most only allowed those closest to them to do as much as stare at them for extensive amount of time. And still…

“You may. But, please be careful. They’re very sensitive, and tear easily.”

“Wait, really? I wasn’t really expecting you to let me..” [Name] was dumbfounded.

“I suppose so. The idea doesn’t make me uncomfortable, as I… Truly appreciate you. It feels like you’re the only person that has seen me as human in an embarrassingly long time. This is the least I can do to express my gratitude.” He leaned in closer, extending the wings on the side closest to [Name]. They didn’t speak, only reaching out to pet the wing sticking out from under his shirt. Sunday was surprised, as he figured they’d first pick the carefully preened, pristine, and intact wing on his head.

“It’s so soft..” they gasped, brushing a finger along the trimmed edge of the appendage. They then moved on to his upper wing, scratching behind it like one would with a cat.

Sunday metaphorically melted, gently collapsing onto [Name]. His eyes closed contently as his roommate continued their exploration of his features.

Unfortunately, their happiness didn’t last long. The distinct sound of wood being axed through snapped both people out of their relaxed state. Sunday jumped out of bed, and out the bedroom door. The sound was coming from the front entrance- which was stupid, as it was unlocked, much like any other door in the town. He crossed his arms, glaring at the widening hole in his door.

Upon completely decimating the wooden structure, a furious mob of followers of the Order barged in, carrying pitchforks and unlit torches. Sunday blinked in disbelief, if only for a couple seconds.

“You liar… Murderous whoreson of a cunt! How could you… How? Do you even realize how many people have lost or wasted their lives on your fuckass cult!? You will pay for this!” A man near the front screamed, spit flying onto Sunday as he did so. He wiped it off his face, giving his subjects a tired smile.

“My children, please. This must all be one great misunderstanding. I urge you to lay your weapons down, and explain to me what crime exactly you think it is that I committed.” He clasped his hands together, eyes closing inoffensively. Once again, his communication attempt was met with a slap.

“Misunderstanding? Hah. Tell that to The Devil! Tie him!” The man ordered, in response to which, the follower of Harmony stepped forward, rope in hand. As they stood parallel to Sunday, they opened their eyes for the first time. The blue outer ring transforming into a deep purple one didn’t look the least bit human, and neither did the grey sclera. If anything, such colors more closely resembled the written description of Ena, if only reversed.

It was then that it clicked.

Sunday began to twitch, in what seemed like the unfortunate moment where the psyche of a tortured man finally shattered. Hell, maybe that was accurate. He soon began to laugh, louder than he ever had before.

As he found himself preoccupied with that, Xipe gave him one last pitiful glance.

“I’m sorry.” THEY mouthed, beginning to bind his arms and wings.

[Name] gripped the edge of the bedroom doorframe. They had been observing for the entirety of the conflict, frozen. Perhaps, if the sea of people didn’t extend well past the confines of the house, they would’ve tried to help Sunday.

“See? He’s gone far past mad- Wait, should we do something about [Name]?” A villager questioned another, causing Sunday to cease his laughter.

“Absolutely. Burn the entire house down, everything he’s touched is tainted.”

“Are you insane? They’re pretty new. What do you think are the chances that they knew?” A third chimed in.

“[Name] didn’t know. It… It was all on me. I’m the one who lied to you. I deceived each and every one of you in pursuit of control. I corrupted the pure intentions of Gopher Wood, and, I ended his life via poison. I am the only culprit.” Sunday tensed, frantically looking around to see how many people believed his faux confession. Of course, only the first sentence was even remotely true. However, if he were to die today, there was no reason to drag the dead and the innocent along with him.

The villagers fell silent, looking between each other in a silent discussion.

“I believe him.” Xipe said, tugging on Sunday’s binds as THEY lead him towards the door, clearing a path through the mob.

The crowd followed, much like a herd of sheep would. This left [Name] alone, and confused.

When the silence became deafening, they hurried to follow. They figured that even if they couldn’t physically be that close to him during whatever was going to happen, then being there at all might make Sunday feel less alone. Even if what he’d confessed was true; which they didn’t fully believe, he did save their life. This was the least they could do for him.

Tears rolled down Sunday’s face, shining golden from the bright sunlight seeping into them. He was awarded the courtesy of choosing when he’d be ended, and he picked sundown. He’d been nailed to a cross, through his hands, wings, and shoulders. The fallen priest was in utter agony, and yet, he was quite alright with this.

Xipe took the same role Sunday had all those years ago; the killer. The villagers were seething, and craved nothing but blood. So, they all collectively decided Sunday was going to be nailed, burnt, and finally shot in the neck. Xipe offered THEMSELVES as executioner. No mortal deserved to have to live with the fact they were the direct cause of another human being’s untimely demise…

As THEIR lit torch approached the kindling, Xipe gazed into Sunday’s eyes once more. They smiled. It was barely visible, yet earnest.

Sunday returned the gesture, inhaling the last breath of fresh air he’d ever take.

[Name] kneeled in front of the charred, bloodied, and decaying corpse of Sunday. They didn’t even think he saw them in his final moments, ergo, they exposed themselves to his disgustingly brutal end for nothing.

They dipped their head, placing the bouquet of wild flowers they’d picked from the clearing which Sunday introduced them to, at his feet.

“Do you want to bury him?”

“…What?” [Name] turned, recognizing the voice as Sunday’s executioner.

“You cared about him. I doubt you want him to publicly rot for..What, a decade?”

“Yeah.”

“Stand. And take the flowers. I’ll carry him.”

And so, they did. In the same clearing the flowers had been picked from, [Name] and Xipe had buried Sunday. They didn’t mark his grave, deciding to finally let him rest.

“So? What will happen now? To everyone in the town, I mean. I don’t know about anyone else, but I have nowhere to go, and a town without a leader is a town without laws. But they’re all so violent…”

“Hm..Penacony has a place for all. Even with their violent tendencies, they can learn and grow.”

“So, why couldn’t Sunday?”

“Despite not knowing what he even believed in, Sunday thought he was nothing without Order. No matter what anyone could ever try, he’d refuse to change. It’s unfortunate, but, he should be allowed to make his own choices.”

“…But that’s so unfair.”

“Being forced into obedience would be equally unfair, no? Sunday died on his own terms.”

“I guess. It’s just, sad.”

[Name] received no reply. They felt as if the other presence had suddenly vanished, but didn’t bother to confirm this.

They laid down next to Sunday’s resting place, closing their eyes. They still struggled to comprehend how their life had taken such a horrible turn so quickly.

It didn’t matter now. [Name] yawned, rolling over onto the side they were most comfortable on. Upon waking, they’d set off to Penacony, where they would find a job and make a living for themselves. But tonight, they just wanted a semblance of a proper farewell to the cozy lifestyle they had grown so accustomed to, and to the man that made it all possible.