#but do i even have the option not to. to not care about othere is foreign to me

[wososcripts]

Face to Face (Part 1)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: After months of a toxic back and forth with Frido, things reach a breaking point.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I know it's been forever but that's what being a full time uni student will do! I hope you all enjoy this fic as much as I do, its been a wip for a while now!

As usual this is all fiction and in good fun! Nothing is meant to represent reality. All italicized dialogue is in a language other than English, and I promise... things will get better in this fic eventually.

Warnings⚠️: unhealthy situationship lol, injury, light medical description

"Get out!" You screamed, repeating it over and over until you were alone in your bedroom.

You hated yelling. Absolutely hated it. You couldn't remember the last time before today that you had actually yelled in someone's face. Plenty of people in your sport lost their tempers and shouted on the pitch—whether at a ref or another player—but it wasn’t your style. You always managed to keep your cool. It was your sport, yes, but not your life.

You'd been yelled at too much as a child to think it had any productive effect on a situation, which may have been part of why you immediately felt horrible once Fridolina left the room. You pulled your comforter around your half-naked form, wishing you were less exposed.

This was the end. Whatever you and Fridolina had, it was over. Finally.

You'd been trying to build up the will to make this happen for weeks, and yet your heart felt like it was being strangled with every moment you sat here alone. The worst part was, you knew Fridolina didn't care. She was probably angry, sure, but she was not feeling the heartbreak you were.

You weren't sure how you were going to make it through the next few days. You had to fly to Germany tomorrow for national camp—and then on Friday you were playing Sweden in a friendly. It was hard to imagine that you had been excited to get the news about the friendly last month. It meant you got to be around Frido more, got to see a few of your old teammates from Chelsea like Magda and Zećira, and you genuinely enjoyed being around the German girls. It was still home to you, there, even if you hadn't played for a German league in nearly a decade.

Now you just wanted to stay in Barcelona while Frido left. You wanted to call Alexia, or Patri, and ask them to come over and comfort you. You wanted Patri’s jokes and Alexia’s solid presence, but you were afraid of the questions they might ask. Your eyes were red now, tears running down your face, and your room was a mess. Everything had a trace of Frido, and you hated it.

Ingrid and Mapí, who you would usually call if you wanted to get your mind off of things, weren’t an option either. Though you were fairly certain they wouldn’t ask any pressing questions, Ingrid was Frido’s best friend. And that made her off limits for now, for anything regarding this.

You just had to make it through the night, and the next morning. Then you could collapse into the familiar arms of your national teammates, your family, your language, and try to forget all about this.

—

Your mother knew something was off the second you appeared on her doorstep, Laura in tow.

She wrapped her arms firmly around you, holding you tight for a minute. It had been three months since you were home for Christmas, and you hadn’t seen each other since then. You melted into her, wanting nothing more than the comfort of her protective embrace after all that had been swimming around your head lately.

Your mother greeted Laura next, and you were instructed to bring your bags up to the guest room. You’d have to share, but it wasn’t all that big of an issue. You and Laura often shared rooms when you were at national camp anyway, so this wouldn’t be much different.

“Wie ist Barcelona? Gefällt es? ” Laura asked you quietly that night, rolling over in the bed to face you.

It was late, too late to still be up. Tomorrow you’d have to be at training bright and early.

“I love it there.”

Something about your voice must have been off, because Laura stayed silent. You knew she fretted over you. She was protective too, something you experienced first hand when people were rough with you on the field—Laura hated most of your exes too. You’d known each other since secondary school, when you were barely tall enough to reach the top of your lockers.

“I’ve always wondered if it’s difficult, fitting in with the Spanish girls…”

“And I’m shy, which doesn’t make it easier.”

Laura laughed lightly.

“Well I wasn’t going to say anything!”

You poked her side playfully, and smiled.

“They’re all very welcoming. It can be intimidating when you don’t speak Spanish at first, but I’m pretty good now so I don’t have many issues.”

Laura began playing with strands of your long hair, putting it in small braids.

“What is it, Lau?”

“I can tell something is bothering you. In your texts, the way you looked when I picked you up at the airport, something is off.”

You weren't sure what to say. Laura didn't know anything about you and Frido. Nobody did. You'd have to explain the whole thing, start to finish. You'd have to explain why you stayed even when she treated you like garbage. Why you made excuses for her, compromised things you told yourself you wouldn't.

"It's hard to explain…" you mumbled.

Laura continued to play with your hair, pushing a few wisps back from your forehead.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

You needed an ally in this, you realized. Desperately.

"Just be prepared, it's kind of a long story."

And so you launched into how you and Frido had been attracted to each other immediately when she was playing at Bayern and you were at Frankfurt. How you had danced around each other when you were signed in Barcelona. How she kissed you one day after a game, before she was even out of her relationship, and then ignored you for weeks—a pattern you didn't realize was going to dominate your life for the next year.

By the end you were crying. You hadn't cried in so long it felt foreign. Everything had been building up for months and nobody had been there to help you carry the weight of it until that moment.

Laura pulled you into her arms, rubbing your back in soothing circles as you sobbed into her neck.

"It's okay, you're okay," she whispered.

"I feel like a fucking idiot."

"She's the idiot for treating you like that, not you. Not you at all." Laura looked at you sternly. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that all by yourself…"

You snuggled closer to her and kept quiet.

"If you need someone to accidentally slide tackle her on Monday let me know…" Laura teased.

You giggled into her hair, and she couldn't help but smile in return.

-

You were nervous. Typically friendlies didn't worry you much, but you didn't want to see Fridolina. You had been playing well in training sessions, but your teammates could tell something was on your mind.

"Hey—" Sara's voice broke you out of your thoughts. The two of you had played together at Frankfurt for a little while, and she was like an older sister to you. She placed both her hands on your cheeks and pressed her forehead to yours. "Whatever it is, put it out of your mind. Leave it here and just play. Just for a few hours."

You closed your eyes and listened to her, letting her voice ground you. You squeezed her hands and nodded. Just a few hours. Then you could avoid Frido for an entire week before you had to fly back to Barcelona.

You assumed your position on the pitch, the roar of the German fans filling your ears. That was the benefit of playing at home. You spotted a few of the Swedish girls you knew: Magda, Zećira, Stina, and Rebecca. All of whom gave you small smiles.

In the few seconds before the match began you closed your eyes, counting down from seven as you always did before a match. Then the whistle blew and you began.

It was a tough match between the two teams. Where the Germans were weak the Swedish girls pounced, and vice versa. You were constantly fighting for the ball, the defenders packed onto you. Stina was the first to score, slipping the ball into the box amidst a chaotic mess just the way she was good at.

From there on out you were determined to score. You were playing all out, more than necessary really. It was a throwaway game, but you just had to get a point on the board.

When your quick pass to Lena had the ball soaring into the back of the net you thought you might explode from joy. You jumped into her arms, letting her twirl you around, laughing. In your head you might as well have won the Olympics.

At halftime it was still 1-1. Your heart was pounding. Laura made you drink some of your water, massaging your shoulders in an effort to get you to calm down. Popp was side eyeing you, considering pulling you out. This behavior wasn't like you.

The second half was considerably more intense than the first. Both teams wanted to score, and the more physical players on both sides were pushing hard. It was a miracle nobody had been carded.

And then suddenly you had the ball at your feet. There was a golden opportunity in front of you. Eyes facing forward, you raced down the pitch, completely blindsided to the weight that slammed into from the side. Suddenly the world went sideways and you were slamming into the ground, not enough time to even think about trying to catch yourself. Your hip and shoulder took most of the initial impact, but something about how you'd been standing, or how you'd been hit, meant your head followed, hitting the ground with a resounding thud.

You came to a few seconds later. Someone was kneeling next to your head, and their hands were on your cheeks.

Fuck. Everything hurt. You kept your eyes closed, thinking maybe that would lessen the next wave of pain you knew was coming. At first you weren't sure what had happened.

"Are you okay?" You heard Zećira's voice in your ear.

"Zećira?" You mumbled. "What happened?"

"You went down and hit your head."

You had gone down near the goal, that was right. Things were a bit blurry. You figured it was a bad idea to move your neck, what with the severe headache you could feel blossoming, and opening your eyes seemed to run the 50/50 chance of you vomiting.

"Do you remember that now? Do you feel okay?"

So you gave her a weak thumbs up, hoping it was clear you needed the medics.

After a moment in which you gathered your resolve and swallowed your nausea, you opened your eyes. There was Zećira looking worriedly down at you. She glanced upwards, probably at the medical team that was surely coming.

"Fuck, fuck…" you heard another voice, those of your German teammates beginning to filter into your awareness. And further away, the sharp sound of yelling.

The medical team finally arrived, clearing the space around you. Your hand shot out, grabbing onto Zećira's you gave her a look that said it all. Fear and panic met in equal amounts as she squeezed your hand lightly.

"You're gonna be okay, älskling, everything is gonna be alright." If anything, her tone scared you even more. You knew Zećira, and she wasn't someone you would describe as warm and cuddly. For her to be using that tone with you meant something had gone wrong.

"Okay, we're gonna sit you up now." The medic warned you, and you felt two pairs of hands rest on your body, one on the back of your neck, slowly pull you upright.

Your nausea came back in full swing, and you fought to keep your breakfast in.

"Can you hear me?" You nodded.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?" You nodded again, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Can you squeeze my hand?" You squeezed his hand tightly.

"Okay, I'm gonna shine this light in your eyes for a moment, can you try and follow it for me?" You did your best, but it wasn't easy.

"Okay," he put the light away and you thanked whatever God in the universe for that. "We think it's likely you have a pretty bad concussion. We'll have to run a few more tests to be sure, but she definitely has to come off."

He must've been talking to your coach at that point, because the next thing you knew Zećira and the medic were helping you up to your feet, the man supporting you heavily with your arms draped across his shoulders.

"I'll visit you after the match, okay?" You heard Zećira assure you, to which you gave another thumbs up.

You cringed slightly at the sound of the crowd cheering you off.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #fridolina rolfö #fridolina rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #barca femini x reader #my writing #fc barcelona x reader

[hees-mine]

DESTROYED - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warnings: bullying, violence, crying, cursing, mentions of smut, filler chap, barely edited.

Genre: 18+, smut, minors dni!

WC: 1,992k

⟱⟱⟱

About a week had passed after you so willingly let heeseung defile and destroy your precious body.

You felt dirty, you felt used, you felt disgusted with yourself.

But though all the above was true, the feeling you felt the strongest was confusion.

You were confused with the way he treated you.

You’re aware he doesn’t know you, but not even a stranger treats someone the way he treats you.

He used your body for his own pleasure and personal gain and just left you with no ounce of remorse or care.

And you wanted to know why.

You’ve never done anything to him, so why was it so easy for him to treat you like yesterday’s garbage and walk away without so much as even an apology?

All he did was threaten you and leave you there to help yourself.

You felt like you deserved an explanation from him after he took your innocence away from you. That’s the absolute least he could do for you.

You know he told you to never look at him or call him again but right now that didn’t feel like an option for you you were going to get the answers and the closure you needed from him even if you were going against what he told you.

You’ve had a crush on him for too long not to at least know why he doesn’t like you back and why he thought it was okay to walk away from you in your most vulnerable state.

You were determined to talk to him today once you entered the school building but that changed the instant you go there.

Sharing the same class with him wasn’t easy this past week even the sight of his back intimidated but you did your best to focus on anything except him cause he took up enough of your late night thoughts already.

The one time your eyes shifted from your teacher just so happened to be at the same time that he looked up from his notepad his stare was cold as ice his jaw clenched tightly with what you would assumed to be was anger and you quickly lowered your head to focus on anything else besides his agitated face.

Your heart raced in your chest, and you couldn’t believe that just a single look from him could evoke so many emotions in you.

Whether you liked it or not, you still had a soft spot for him even after everything he did to you, and that, on top of feeling sad and hurt, was the worst mix of emotions combined.

For the rest of the day, you did your best to ignore thoughts of heeseung, and you were doing excellent, surprisingly.

You had exited the school building, and you were on your way home. You decided not to bring up last week to heeseung, at least not today. You weren’t quite ready yet, especially after the way he glared at you in class. You wanted to take your time to calm your emotions and get all your thoughts together before you had that conversation with him.

You clutched the straps of your backpack walking in the opposite directions of all the other students you took the back way instead cause it was always a few minutes faster less people were back there but you never sensed any real danger you’d been taking this route for years and so far you were incident free.

But for the first time, you did feel a sense of danger or at least fear as you were pushed against the base of a tree in the middle of the woods. You tried to scream, but your mouth was immediately covered by a large palm. “What the fuck did I say?” Heeseung was now towering over you, his jaw clenched tightly the same way it was back in the class you shared with him.

Your screams were muffled by his hand, and no one was even close in the distance to help you.

You tried to push his hand off, but he was far stronger than you, and it was no use. You quickly lost all your energy, so you gave up trying to fight him. Despite the fear rushing through your body, you just didn’t have the strength to match his and fight back.

“You think I was lying when I said next time wouldn’t be like before?” Your eyes were flashing back and forth, looking in his to see some ounce of remorse or guilt, but you found nothing but pure rage in his eyes.

You shook your head no immediately, but he kept his hand still, so you couldn’t say a word.

“Then why did I catch you staring at me again when I specifically told you not to?” He uncovered your mouth, finally giving you a chance to speak, and instead of answering his question, you tried to scream for help.

“HELP!” Your first cry for help was your last cause. You were left speechless when a harsh slap landed against your cheek, the sting causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Shut the fuck up. You asked for this.” he pinned you against the tree by your arms as your eyes shook in fear.

“Pleas-“ Even your pleas fell on deaf ears as he slammed you against the tree, knocking the wind out of you.

You whimpered from the painful impact, and not even then did he stop.

“Don’t say please now you had this coming,” he seethed and slammed you against the tree again, his fingertips painfully digging into your shoulders as he gripped you tightly.

“Hee-“ your words got caught in your throat as his hands wrapped around your neck, cutting off your air supply.

“Fucking hate when you say my name. I fucking hate you” he wrapped his hands around the entirety of your neck, squeezing until your airways were completely blocked off.

You kicked and clawed, trying your best to free yourself, but again, the struggle made you lose your strength even faster, and before you knew it, your vision was going black.

You grabbed at his arms, trying to gouge into his flesh so he would let you go, but the thick material of his blazer made it impossible for you to penetrate his skin, and now you were absolutely defenseless.

Right before you blacked, he released you, and you fell to the ground, choking and gasping for air as you trembled in fear, not daring to look up at him or yell for help.

He gathered a ball of saliva in his mouth and spat on you, neglecting your barely conscious body.

Just when you thought he would leave you alone like he did back in that classroom, he gripped your collar and yanked you up off the ground. “Let this be a reminder to keep your eyes off me,” he gritted through his teeth and threw you to the ground before he walked away, finally leaving you helpless in the woods.

You stood up on wobbly legs, your knees full of dirt and small cuts. Tears stained your cheeks as you lifelessly limped through the woods.

And after that incident, you didn’t care about anything; you didn’t care about getting closure; you didn’t care about why he did what he did to you.

You just know not to get involved with him anymore because it always ends with you feeling hurt and sad.

-

The next day, you did absolutely everything in your power to avoid Lee heeseung.

You didn’t dare walk in his direction and you kept your eyes glued to the ground you even skipped the one class you had with him just so you wouldn’t accidentally make eye contact with him and upset him further than you already had.

You hugged the lockers in the hallways, always making way for him to come through, scared of what he might do to you if you ever crossed him again. You even left school late just to make sure he was gone so you wouldn’t have an accidental run-in with him.

Heeseung smirked when he saw you avoiding him.

So you’ve learned your lesson, he thought.

You should have known better than to go against his words to begin with.

If you had listened, your neck wouldn’t be bruised with his handprints, and you wouldn’t be wandering around with your head down like a meek little mouse if you had just left him alone and stayed the fuck out of his business, but maybe now your stupid little pea brain can comprehend to keep your eyes to yourself.

Maybe now you can understand he wants nothing to do with you.

-

Every day since that day he assaulted you in the woods, you always took the long way home, and you always watched your back just in case you did something that day to offend Lee heeseung.

You know, It didn’t much matter now after all the horrid things he’s done to you.

But to this day, you are still confused by him.

His exterior would never lead you to believe that he was the kind of person he is.

The kind of person that could so easily tear someone down.

Even as you dressed your wounds when you went home the day he nearly choked you unconscious, you still couldn’t believe it was actually done by his hands.

You didn’t want to believe it was him who did it.

One of the things that drew you to him in the first place was how good of a student he was he got the top grade every time.

He was always well-mannered. He didn’t have friends, but he was exceptionally nice to his teachers.

His outfit was always prim and proper, perfectly ironed and ready for any occasion.

And even past his physical appearance and personality, there was just something mysterious about him that drew you to him.

He was quiet and well reserved which was odd cause with a face like his it seemed like he’d be the popular kid and surrounded by a bunch of people but that’s just the thing he wasn’t and you think that’s what made him attractive to you.

He was smart, nice, good looking, and he didn’t have that typical cocky jock attitude that all the good-looking guys had in your school.

Maybe that should have sent off some alarms in your head, but it didn’t.

Although you should have known something was wrong because, honestly speaking, he was too good to be true.

Thinking about it now maybe it would have been better if he had taken on that persona cause to see the person he really is was something you couldn’t have ever imagined.

You’d take the cocky jock over the handsome harasser any day.

Even as time passed, what he did to you just didn’t feel real, maybe cause you wanted him to be different, maybe cause in your mind, you thought that you and him would live happily ever after.

Alas, that wasn’t the case. The reality was that he was just another bad person walking amongst many, and your luck happened to be the worst cause. Why, out of everyone, did you have to be attracted to Lee heeseung?

If you had never liked him, none of this would have happened.

You scold yourself for even thinking that you were to blame in this situation but that’s just how messed up you were after everything that happened.

You could go down the rabbit hole all day of the endless possibilities in a world where heeseung didn’t defile your body, in a world where he didn’t harm you.

But the truth is he did, and now you have to live with the uncomfortable consequences and seeing his face every day for the rest of your school year.

All thanks to Lee Heeseung, your year-long crush, your life was destroyed.

⟱⟱⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours

[sunderwight]

Demon Shen Jiu is such a fun idea though.

Especially if he himself doesn't know. Like imagine, Yue Qi finds this abandoned baby and the baby is REALLY OBVIOUSLY not human. But this also enables Shen Jiu to survive being abandoned at such a young age -- a human baby would die without adequate nutrition or care, but demons are a little more resilient. Baby Demon SJ has a way more forgiving digestive system and can move under his own power from a much earlier age. By the time he's a year old he's hunting his own rodents and small birds, and has to be stopped from biting and mauling anyone he doesn't like. Which is most people. Qi-ge develops amazing reflexes.

Why do the slavers tolerate a demon baby hanging around? Maybe it's really not all that uncommon. Demons come across the borderlands from time to time, and are as liable to abandon their kids or die or etc as anyone else. It's maybe an open secret among slavers that demon-blooded kids are a better investment, even, because they can survive for longer on less. The only downside is if they don't ever look human enough to pass as human, because that limits potential buyers, but that's only relevant when the slavers are trying to sell them. For the purposes of having a network of street kids stealing and grifting and spying and etc, it's fine. A lot of the slavers themselves started out as demon-blooded street kids with no other options.

But in SJ's case, he pretty quickly starts passing as human. Mostly because he's quite strong, and he's convinced that he's the same as his Qi-ge, so he makes himself the same. Makes his hands look the same and his teeth look the same and etc. It's largely subconscious, and once he starts doing it, it becomes automatic. SJ forgets that he's a demon in the way that most people don't retain their earliest childhood memories -- although he remembers that some of the slavers were demons.

Then of course there's the question of why didn't the Cang Qiong cultivators notice?

A few options. One is that whatever kind of demon SJ is, it's really good at mimicking humans. Another is that he's only part demon, and like Luo Binghe, fully capable of handling both kinds of cultivation. So once he starts learning spiritual cultivation, even from a heretic like Wu Yanzi, he doesn't seem different from any other recruit with a patchy education on the subject. Anything else odd about him could be easily attributed to his exposure to Wu Yanzi and his wicked practices.

Although full demon SJ is a fascinating idea. (Also, it could contribute to all those qi deviations -- he's trying to cultivate AND "fake" human cultivation at the same time, I doubt Qing Jing's techniques are totally compatible with everything going on there even without the psychological turmoil.) Like I'd imagine Airplane wrote that SJ was abandoned on the streets as a baby, and the system was like "hmm he probably wouldn't survive that?" and then in some nine billionth wife arc, Airplane also creates a variety of demon that can fully pass as human (for some identity conflict with a prospective wife), even to the point of fooling human cultivators and demon-detecting tools. So the system just ties these two disparate pieces of world-building together in order to patch a critical plothole (Airplane doesn't know anything about babies). Which has the side effect that Shang Qinghua doesn't even know that SJ became a demon!

And SJ himself doesn't know. The only person who knows is Yue Qi.

Obviously this wouldn't come up much in PIDW, but it could be pretty funny in the SVSSS timeline. YQY just sitting there through the whole Luo Binghe being a half-demon reveal, wondering if he should say something. Subsequently being the most absolutely chill about the whole demon reveal thing anyway. Like he's definitely not upset that Luo Binghe is a demon, or part demon, and the multiple people who try to make a point about it just run afoul of his impenetrable smile and get nowhere.

Then eventually Yue Qingyuan decides that he should probably tell Bingqiu that Shen Qingqiu is a demon. For like, safety purposes if nothing else. He's kept the secret so long also for safety purposes (even if someone put Shen Qingqiu under a truth compulsion he wouldn't be able to admit to being a demon, because he himself doesn't know!), and he's done tons of stuff to prevent anyone ever finding out (although Xiao Jiu is so talented that he didn't have to do much), but Luo Binghe is the demon emperor. That changes things. If Shen Qingqiu is going to be visiting the demon kingdoms regularly then there's a chance something could reveal the truth unexpectedly, and that would probably be worse.

So Yue Qingyuan sits down and has a very serious discussion with Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe about how Shen Qingqiu is actually a demon, was just the cutest little demon baby in fact, here he drew a picture from memory of what Xiao Jiu used to look like before he learned to look more human, and also how a lot of slave kids and slavers and people who fall through the cracks in society have demon ancestry, some more recent than others, and Shen Qingqiu always retained a certain discomfort around his own kind because of the adult slavers who sold him off, and etc etc.

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #shen qingqiu #LBH: *having deep serious introspection about how his demon blood reveal probably triggered shizun's subconscious trauma* #YQY: *worried how his shidi will take the revelation that he is a being he has struggled to reconcile himself towards for his whole life* #SQQ: *excitedly trying to figure out what kind of demon body he's in and whether or not that means he gets cool extra powers* #also this would make SJ a man-hating man who is also a demon-hating demon #everything circles back to self-loathing with that guy

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 13

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 1.8k | Warnings: none | Masterlist

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author's note: everyone say thank you to @sarawritestories for bullying me to get me to write and to @milswrites for the NEW HEADER LOOK IT'S SO PRETTY

Ten minutes to the dot from getting to your door Azriel was walking into your apartment with a bowl of popcorn and several bags of candy. He brought chocolates, gummy worms, cookies, and several other sweets in the crook of his elbow, several being held by random fingers. You really weren’t sure how he was carrying it all. 

In your absence he also changed into some black sweatpants and a black tee, his arms flexed with all the snacks in his hold. He looked great at mini golf, but now he looked attractive in such a different way. 

“What are you doing?” He looked a bit ridiculous, as if he just raided a candy store. He looked even more ridiculous trying to toe his shoes off before making his way over to you.

“I know you don’t have food here.”

“Yes we do - Cassian was supposed to go grocery shopping yesterday!” You whip your head to the kitchen, as if you could see the inside of your pantry from where you sat. “Besides I ordered a pizza.”

He gives you a look, “Cassian’s version of grocery shopping is stopping at our apartment and taking what he wants.”

Your eyes widen, “no he does not! He said he goes to the store for food.”

He scoffs, setting down the candy and snacks on the table in front of you, lining them all up so you could see the label on each bag, “the store of Rhys and Az, maybe. A 24 hour convenience store Cassian has a lifetime membership to.”

You think back to all the times Cassian told you he was going grocery shopping, but you’re not sure if you ever did see him come back with bags of groceries. All the food and supplies just showed up. “Well, I’m sorry he does that. It does explain his luxurious tastes though…”

“It’s fine,” he says sitting next to you, your legs touching. “Rhys’s dad pays for the groceries, so..” 

His sentence lingers as he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s what’s worked for us for a long time. Rhys couldn't care less. Actually I think he prefers getting to spend money on us.”

“So things with Rhys’s dad are weird?”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose. His dad sucks. Gives Rhys a- basically an unlimited credit card. Rhys has played with the limits on it before. We all know he’s rich, we just don’t know how rich. He’s spent a ridiculous amount of money on that card with no response. Once he bought all of ours and Cassian’s furniture in one trip - bought ridiculously priced shit too. Didn’t even blink over it.”

He scoops up a handful of popcorn, popping some into his mouth. “Well, all the furniture except their ridiculously sized tvs.”

You giggle, grabbing the bag of sour candies he brought and opening them, popping some in your mouth. “Mm, you’re too good to fall victim to their childish antics?”

“I’m more evolved than them.”

“So it was a different Azriel that Cassian was talking about going racing with him on some backroads a few weeks ago?”

A beat passes and he refuses to look at you, his eyes straight forward. “I think Cassian has face blindness.”

“Oh yeah, mhm.” You pick up the remote, scrolling to look through potential movies to watch. “Maybe we should get a decal for your bike so he won’t get confused again. I’m thinking of something that makes you seem distinguished.”

“Oh?”

“Something that makes you seem intimidating.”

“something scary?” His eyes dance with amusement, crinkling in contained joy.

“Something terrifying. So they know you’re a menace.”

You scroll through the movie options, Azriel’s arm making its way across the back of the couch behind you. He spreads his legs a bit, and you nestle into his shoulder as you put on Jurassic Park, picking a movie you’d be okay with missing some parts to it.

The two of you had watched at least three quarters of Jurassic Park, several parts of the movie missed because the two of you couldn’t keep from making out on your couch. 

You watched the entire trilogy, staying up late with him. By the time the second movie came on, the two of you talked through most of it, until you’d reach the scenes with the pterodactyls in the third movie. Then you had forced your hands over his mouth, not letting him talk over your favorite scenes. Once you had pulled them away, he immediately dove on top of you, pushing you into the couch and nuzzling his face into your neck.

The two of you stayed up until somewhere around 3 AM, the third movie long forgotten as you asked him to stay the night. Nothing happened, except you did wake up the next morning with his arm slung around your waist, making it very tempting to completely ignore your alarm clock.

Unfortunately, Azriel had work to do, kissing your temple before he snuck back into his apartment to get dressed.

He had been gone for all of twenty seconds when your phone buzzed and he asked if you’d like to get coffee the next day before class. Your classes lined up at the same time each day, so you two would meet up at a local coffee shop in the morning. You’d park your car in the grocery store lot afterwards, Azriel holding out his spare helmet for you before helping put it on your head before he’d zip you two through campus, one of his hands always on your thigh. 

The two of you would separate once he’d walk you to your classes, and then you’d meet back up at the library. It was a bit concerning to you how quickly the two of you fell into a routine, most of your free time of the week either spent with him or texting him.

“I got you something.”

You rummage through your bag when Azriel walks up to the table, his jacket being thrown onto one of the extra chairs. He sets down his helmet as you continue your search. You slide the envelope across the table, his scarred fingers touching yours as he grabs it from you. He opens the envelope, pulling out the note.

‘To be more menacing’ is written on pink stationary, a sticker falling from the paper. He picks it up, a smile on his face as he turns the sticker in his fingers, the cartoon goose with a knife in his mouth looking back at you.

His smile is captivating in the harsh lighting of the library, the LEDs making his skin several shades too light.

But it made his smile all the more blinding. 

“Thank you,” he slips the sticker into his jacket pocket, sliding into the seat across from you.

He pulled out his laptop, his bag neat and tidy, a far cry from Cassian’s paper cluttered bag. You go back to reviewing your notes, as Azriel begins typing on his computer. The silence is comfortable between you two, and as you feel it start to settle, Azriel’s foot grazes your own, sticking itself between your crossed ankles. 

You peer at him across the table, but his tortoiseshell glasses don’t move towards you, his computer screen reflecting through them to show he was working on some form of coding you had no desire to understand. You smile back down to your books, trying to get all your work finished before Friday, the six of you spending the weekend at Rhys’s dad’s lake house. 

Cassian had been moaning and groaning for several weeks about wanting to go to the lake, but Rhys’s dad was having renovations done on the house and on the private dock until roughly two weeks ago. Since its completion, Cassian has been relentless, worming the word ‘lake’ into every conversation he’s had, not being very subtle about what he wanted.

Every morning he texted your group chat about his ‘cornfLAKEs’ or about how he just loves ‘snowfLAKEs’. He had just run out of words two days ago and now resorted to making up words that had ‘lake’ in them. Rhys immediately texted everyone to ‘please for the love of my sanity, be available this weekend or else I’m petitioning we murder Cassian’. 

None of you wanted to be stuck doing any kind of work this weekend - Cassian and Azriel already had the weekend off, Mor and Feyre were free, and your plans revolved around the work and the man in front of you. All of you were desperate to finish any work that was due on Monday before the six of you left.

“So this weekend.”

He holds up a finger, typing furiously before he stops, looking up at you. He closes his laptop slightly, pushing it away from himself. 

“This weekend.”

You put your chin in your hands, looking at his tan face. You loved seeing him wear his glasses - they made him look so endearing and soft. “Are we um going to tell anyone before we go? Besides Mor, obviously.”

You had texted Mor at some point during the second or third movie, asking her if she had mentioned your date to anyone. She had said no and that she’d be willing to keep it that way if you remembered to thank her profusely for ‘setting you up on the best date of your life’. 

You had agreed, but now this left you with a bit of a dilemma - when do you tell everyone? Does he want to tell everyone?

“You don’t understand how annoying they can get when it comes to my love life.”

You giggled, certain you could figure it out based on how nosey and meddling Cassian was. 

He clears his throat, “besides I’d like to figure things out with you before they know. I don’t want them to scare you off.”

You laughed, “I walked in on Cassian trimming his toenails the other night. I think anything worse than that violates the Geneva convention.”

His smile is bright as he watches you giggle at your own joke. “How about this,” his hands move across the table, laying them palm up so you can sit yours into them. Your fingers lightly trace the lines on his palms as his voice picks up again. “I’ll take you out for lunch tomorrow, and it will be the official end of things… until we get back.”

You raise your brows, but he’s not finished. “Obviously, not really the end of things. But just.. We’ll come back from lunch as the people we were last week. Before mini golf.”

Your voice is a bit unsteady as you ask, “do you want to stay those people? The before mini golf versions of ourselves?”

“No.” His reply is fast, voice full of conviction.

“You’re not just saying this because Rhys’s lake house has a hot housekeeper, are you?”

He blows out his lips, laughing at your waggling eyebrows, “Sonya’s been about eighty years old for the past fifteen years.” His fingers quickly snatch yours, holding them tightly. “So she’s perfect for me.”

You throw your head back, about to laugh, but he pulls your fingers forward, bringing you in for a soft kiss you can’t help but giggle through.

Series taglist: @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @impossibelle @hayrunnwr @just-a-social-casualty-1 @thisisew @brieflyclassymortal @glitterypirateduck @marshmummy @bookishbroadwaybish @azsteris @doriansgf @footyandformula @mybestfriendmademe @od-anon @judig92 @luvmoo @marina468 @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @acotarobsessed @maryssong23 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielover

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading <3

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #fourth floor #acotar writing #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar series #azriel acotar #acotar

[qqueenofhades]

Hoping you can explain this because you’re smart but why in the world are the same people who scream about a labor shortage worried about the border and immigration? Isn’t more people coming to our country a good thing if we train them properly to fill vacant positions (a lot of which are service jobs anyway)?

Alas, you are forgetting what is quite possibly the chief shibboleth of Western white supremacy/far-right nationalism: that all people from other countries, especially *gasp* the brown ones, are invaders, murderers, job-stealers, polluters of the (white) body politic, etc, and that under no circumstances should they be invited or allowed to stay. This isn't just an American thing; witness the Tories in the UK salivating over the idea of torturing migrants, trying to shut down any legal migration routes even with the employment black hole caused by Brexit, steadfastly denying that their workforce problems have anything to do with Brexit, steadfastly denying that they need to loosen immigration rules, etc. This is also the case with the European right/far right, the Australian far right, and anywhere else in the world that has historically been built on systems of white colonization, white supremacy, and other racial and legal scaffolds of privilege and exclusion. The white people who come to a country and settle it are bringing "civilization" and therefore should be welcomed and encouraged, but the non-white people who already lived there are "savages" and need to be exterminated for the good of the "master race." If they try to come back to the (white) nation state after their homelands were colonized, moreover, they are "invaders" who just want to "soak up the money of hard-working citizens" and etc etc.

The core fascist hatred of immigrants is also why Trump is directly echoing Hitler's anti-immigrant rhetoric with his "poisoning the blood of America" screeds, his promise to round up and deport migrants en masse, and otherwise be as massive of a dick as possible. The fact that there's no economic benefit and indeed a lot of economic pain is entirely beside the point. Trump and his deranged followers like the cruelty and the idea of torturing brown people for daring to come to "their" (white) America, and think that if they can be outrageously monstrous enough, this will finally deter all the other ones from coming. It won't, and no globalized economy will run without immigrants, but again, this isn't the point. Reality or pragmatic calculations have nothing to do with it. It's only about what can cause the maximum amount of cruelty and chaos to everyone who doesn't wholeheartedly worship and fit the (white) fascist model. That's why the Republicans yelled about wanting a border bill before they'd fund Ukraine; the Democrats obligingly gave them one with some of the toughest restrictions in years, and the Republicans yelled and threw it away because Dear Leader Trump told them to trash it. In some sense this is a good thing, because it meant that Ukraine got funded without being beholden to performative partisan cruelty at the border, but it also shows that they don't actually care about any of this. They have bluntly stated in so many words that they want a manufactured crisis at the border so Trump will have it as a campaign issue. Then he can take office and implement all his terrible concentration camps and all the other genocidal fascist bullshit of Project 2025 (bUt bIdEn iZ thE wOrsE oPtiOn!!!!!)

So: yeah. There's no point looking for any actual consistency or logic in the modern far right, because that is so far from the actual aim. No matter if migrants are essential, no matter if Americans literally won't take many of the jobs they do, etc. I live in a big city that has had a ton of migrants coming here and have read many, many news articles about how all they want to do is get a work permit, make their own money, learn English, and integrate into American culture; they are often far more positive about the prospects of America than actual Americans. But because the entire project of a (white) fascist ethnostate as advocated by Trump and co. in America, the Tories/Reform in the UK, and the far-right European parties, Russia, and other places (this is all connected worldwide -- again, it's not limited to one country or region), rests on demonizing (brown) immigrants as subhuman scroungers who come to rape, murder, steal jobs, and otherwise threaten (white) law-abiding citizens, that will always win out above every single other consideration.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #cw white supremacy #history #history of racism

[mochatsin]

When MC Gets Pushed Off the Stairs

You can be the kindest person or the biggest brat this exchange program has ever seen, but it won’t erase the fact that you have enemies. Some demons just can’t stand the idea of a human earning the favor of the seven avatars… and there are others that plan on doing something about it.

TW: implied bullying, falling down the stairs, sprained ankle + MC in a cast, violence, demon brothers being a bit more sinister.

I was in the mood for a bunch of dark and spiteful demons. I might make a separate part of them taking care of MC during the times they have a cast.

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

“Who do they think they are? They probably feel invincible when they have those brothers stuck to their hip.” 

You tried ignoring the rumors and whispers, you knew it wasn’t true so there wasn't any reason for you to bring this up with anyone. Though there were a bunch of demons, specifically these two girls, that are quite irritating. They definitely knew you could hear them, but that doesn’t mean they’ll lower their voices whenever they start talking about you. Seeing your discomfort is what even encourages them to keep talking, and you’re walking down the stairs to your next class so you can avoid them because there’s no way you’re gonna give them that satisfaction of seeing how bothered you are. 

“Invincible? As if! They’re just a human.” The other mocks, looking at you with disgust.

“Let’s find out.” Is the last thing you hear before you feel someone’s heel push your back, making you lose your balance and fall over. It was a blur after that, until he came by…

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

Lucifer

Students are crowding the stairwell, and Lucifer can feel the annoyance already blooming. A crowd like this usually means trouble, and he wonders if Mammon is trying to place bets in secret again. It won’t be the first time he catches his brother discreetly collecting gambling money after convincing other students to bet on something stupid, so Lucifer isn’t going to be surprised if his initial thought was right as he pushes through to see the commotion. 

That’s when Lucifer desperately wished he was right as soon as he saw you on the ground. Two demons on top of the stairs laughed and mocked you, but the moment Lucifer stepped in the scene they immediately shut their mouths out of fear and so did the crowd of students around you. He can piece the scene together and understand what happened, but he needs to hear from you first. 

He kneels down to your level to check up on you. You’re not unconscious and that’s great, though you seemed pretty shaken up. Falling down the stairs and having several students stare at you wasn’t pleasant after all. “Come, let’s discuss what happened in the student council room.” Lucifer offers, since the last thing you need is to be the center of attention and he knows it won’t be a good idea to let you stay here longer.

He helps you stand, but you stumble and cling onto him for support. Your foot… it hurts so much that putting pressure on it sent jolts of burning pain that almost made you scream. You’re trying to be strong despite the pain, you can’t show weakness in front of Lucifer who’s relying on you to represent humans. What kind of image are you showing them? That you’re fragile and weak? It’s all getting overwhelming and Lucifer can see you’re already at your limit.

He turns to the two demons on the top of the stairs and glares at them. The temperature drastically dropped, breathing felt so heavy all of a sudden, and there’s this feeling of dread that paralyzed not only the two but also everyone around them. Trying to run away wasn’t an option, the two girls knew it would just make things worse for them. 

“I expect to see the both of you in the council room at the end of the day. Or else.” There’s no negotiations, and opening their mouths to protest is already a defiance to Lucifer’s orders. He’s already quite strict on his brothers, what more to a pair of demons that doesn’t seem to understand that there are consequences to their actions? “Everyone, get back to your classes.” 

Once everyone has finally left you both alone, Lucifer carries you in his arms. There’s no way he’s letting you limp to the infirmary in this state. He checks your ankle and sighs when he realizes it’s sprained. You thought at first that he’s stressed because you getting hurt meant more work for him, but the worried look on his face shows that it’s not about that.

You’ve been so strong for doing so much here like helping Lucifer manage all of his brothers while still doing your duties as a student, trying to keep up a good impression enough for Diavolo’s exchange program. Now seeing you hurt with a swollen ankle is making Lucifer rethink his views. It’s not pity that’s written on his face, it's… something else entirely. 

“I don’t think you’re weak at all… but maybe it’s time that we take care of you, little lamb.” Lucifer says. It’s an understatement to say that you’re dependable because you’re much more than that to him. He wonders how he even managed to get by with his brothers before you came into their lives. You’ve been so reliable, Lucifer almost forgets that you’re also fragile. You’ve done too much, you deserve a break and be pampered. It’s exactly what he does now that you’ve got a cast on your foot. 

Lucifer doesn’t like seeing you with those crutches, it doesn’t sit right with him when someone like you is suffering from something as basic as going up the stairs. He starts making a proposal about making RAD more accessible for students by adding elevators or magical levitating platforms. While it’s a good idea on its own, you can tell that they had this plan so that you don’t have to suffer through the stairs anymore. Everyone else immediately agreed to the proposal without second thought. 

Lucifer had the two demons apologize to you, and he doesn’t care whether they bruise their skin or get covered in dirt, they will be doing it properly. To beg on their hands and knees, bowing down until their foreheads touch the floor. He won’t let them up until they actually feel genuinely sorry, he doesn’t care how many students will be staring at their pathetic displays. He’s almost tempted to dig his heels into the back of their skulls should they lift their heads for even a single inch from the ground. 

He’ll chip away at their pride that led them to hurting you, finding a way to humiliate them in every subtle way until they’re the ones cowering their head. Lucifer would make subtle comments each time their paths would cross, always looking for a single flow that he would call them out for under the pretense of how it’s unbefitting as a student of RAD. It’s so harsh that the brothers almost felt sorry for them. Is it petty? Perhaps it is. But he doesn’t feel guilty at all when they actively chose to hurt you, and maybe he’ll stop once your ankle is all better.

Mammon

You two were together but then he said had somewhere he needed to be. Mammon was supposed to meet up with you before classes, he just needs to talk to some people he owed a few grimm to and possibly ask for another deadline extension. He’s turning to every corner trying to make sure Lucifer won’t spot him counting his debt, though he did notice the crowd that was forming a few meters away. 

He didn’t give it much thought at first, but that’s until he heard the whispers of students walking towards the scene. ‘It’s that human exchange that fell’ ‘fell? They were pushed, weren't they?’ And that’s when Mammon starts to sprint, honestly hoping that it was Solomon and not you that they were talking about. 

“Outta the way dammit!” Is all you hear, with a few grunts from students getting forcibly shoved to the side before Mammon finally finds you on the floor clutching your ankle. He squats next to you to check the damage, and you can tell from the expression on his face that it doesn’t look good at all. 

He looks up at the stairs and sees the two demons snickering at each other before running away from the scene. Mammon recognizes them, he’s heard some of the nasty stuff they’ve said about this exchange program, and especially about you. It just never occurred to him that they’d do something this drastic when given the chance. Mammon was gone for ten minutes and that was enough time to hurt you. 

He wanted to run after them, force the two to apologize to you. To make them pay. Though the wince and cries from you are what makes Mammon think with a clear head. You tell him that your ankle is hurting, you can’t move it as much without any pain. So he carries you and makes a run for it to the infirmary. No ambulance compares to how quickly Mammon ran just to get you some help.

Mammon stays by your side, too afraid to leave you for another second after what happened. He stares as they patch up your ankle and you’ll be in crutches until it heals. He’s mad, but definitely not at you. He’s angry that this happened under his watch when he’s supposed to be making sure you’re safe from demons like those. That was a role entrusted to him and he already feels like he failed.

“Ya aint leavin’ my sight, not until that ankle of yours is back in shape aight?” And he meant every word. If he’s not glued to your hip, then you swear you can see a three-eyed crow that’s following you around wherever you go. You just feed it some snacks if you have some when you can, and you wake up with shiny trinkets by your desk the next day.

Mammon is ready to be at your beck and call anytime you need it. You let out a grunt of frustration if you dropped your bag and spilled all your belongings. Your sprained ankle makes it hard for you to bend over to get them, but the moment you turn your head, Mammon is already at your feet grabbing you everything. If it weren’t for the circumstances (like your injury), Belphie would probably exploit this and make his older brother do everything while pretending you asked for it. 

The two girls have noticed how much those crows have been following them around. Crows can hold grudges, and they definitely recognize the demons that hurt the human they (and their master) care about. 

It started off as something harmless as landing on their desks, squawking at them, or stealing their pens before an important exam. Though when Mammon noticed them occasionally mocking you behind your back for that cast once you came back to RAD, the crows became more aggressive. The birds pulled on their hair, pecked and bit on their skin, clawing at them whenever they could.

Desperate for this madness to stop, the demons are already by Mammon’s feet begging for the crows to leave them alone. Personally, Mammon would’ve done something much worse but there was no way he’s going to abandon you for a second with that cast. “I’m feeling quite generous, so if ya hear me out on my conditions i’ll let you off the hook yeah?” 

In exchange for finally getting some peace from those crows, the demons agreed to two conditions. One, never to lay a hand on you ever again unless they want the risk of the birds invading their homes. No more mocking or even looking at you with malice. Two, pay Mammon every month. By the time that you got that cast removed, Mammon has paid off some debt from his classmates and he’s quite proud of it. At least he could take care of you and save some coin at the time. No one said it had to be his money right?

Levi

Levi didn’t spend lunch with any of his brothers or classmates as usual today. He likes spending his free time alone in isolated places like the school garden, empty classrooms, or even the rooftop so he could play his games or watch his anime in peace. Socializing with too many people is overwhelming, this is his own way of recharging to get through the rest of the day. 

Though there are rare instances that Levi would ask you to join him in his little hideouts, because you’re one of the people he doesn’t feel too draining to be around. He planned to share some of the snacks he bought for the both of you, but he saw that you were talking with his other brothers at the cafeteria. Feeling dejected, he decided to spend the lunch alone as usual and wait for the class. There’s no way you would want to spend time with someone who’d rather play gacha games on his phone for lunch…

He was hiding by the corners of the stairwell to play his game when he overheard two demons talking so badly about you, followed by hurried footsteps and then a heavy thump at the end of the stairs. Then he heard a familiar voice cry out in pain, and it’s when he realized that you were pushed off the stairs. He saw your body on the floor, trying to recover from the fall and he felt like his world was crashing in on him. He’s frozen in place, unsure of what to do without making things worse.

You turned around and found him hiding behind the stairwell, eyes locked for a moment that felt like an eternity to the demon. That’s when Levi realized he can’t just stand there idly when his player two is injured. Despite the anxiety, he ran to your side anyway to check on you. His face went so pale when he saw you clenching your ankle, the pain evident in your expression. “I-i’ve got you just… dammit what do i d-do…?!” He mumbles the last part, because he knows this isn’t a game where it takes one button to heal you back. No saved file to help him now. 

Levi looks up at the stairs and sees the two demons glaring at the both of you. Out of all the brothers, they would never take Levi seriously. To them, he’s just some demon who dedicated his life to a world of fiction and seeing him fumble right now just proves it. They say that Levi just lacks any real skill to even help you before they left. 

He hates to admit that those two are right, and that makes him loathe himself even more. Levi almost went down on a spiral, but that’s until he felt a phone get placed on his hand. He turns to meet your gaze, you handed him his D.D.D. and he knew what you were asking him to do. Levi quickly dials for his brothers and help came to you after a minute of doing so. He’s thankful for their quick responses, he wouldn’t be able to handle it if a crowd started forming around you both. 

Everyone of them was huddled outside the infirmary while you were getting patched up, and Levi explained what he witnessed. Though he starts going into his self-destructive speech patterns at how he could hardly do anything to help you by himself that he needed to get his brothers to do it for him. He felt so useless to you, but Lucifer interjects. “It’s natural to panic. But if you did not call for us, then they would’ve been in pain for much longer.”

That helped Levi feel a little bit grounded hearing reassurances from his brothers. Lucifer then tasked Levi to be the one in charge of taking care of you during school days. Since Levi also takes his classes online, then he can watch over you while you’re resting in the house. You both can take online classes together while you recover from your injury.

Levi spends most of the time in your room instead because there’s no way he’s making you go up those stairs to his room, and he doesn’t want to risk you getting hurt or slipping if you try to get in his bathtub. As clumsy as he could be, Levi did his best to take care of you. He did want to spend some time alone with you, but he wished it didn’t take a sprained ankle to get what he wanted. 

“I-if only this healing item exists, it would’ve been really handy right now…” He says as you both play a two-player game, the demon staring longingly at the recovery potions on the screen and wishing it could take away your pain right now. Levi often wonders… maybe if he didn’t sulk from the jealousy, if he actually asked you that day to go spend lunch with him, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt like this. 

Levi was watching some anime while you slept, and he saw the bullies on the anime picking on the innocent main protagonist. The scene just reminds him of what happened to you, and that brings him this sense of rage and justice. It was unfair what those two girls did to you, and Levi doesn’t think it’s right that he does nothing about this (assuming that his brothers haven't gotten to them first). 

The girls found all their accounts hacked. From Devilgram to their bank accounts. Their emails and passwords were changed overnight so they couldn’t figure out how to get it back, and if by some miracle they recovered their accounts, everything was already wiped clean by then. Levi may not be the most confrontational brother, but he’s the best behind the screen. He’s chugging his third energy drink as he thinks of new ways to plant a virus in their D.D.D.’s when he goes to school at the end of the week to hand over both of your homeworks. 

When Levi overheard the girls still talking about you during break, they found all their stuff completely drenched and ruined by the time they came back to their seats even though the classroom remained dry. Gadgets were water damaged, and schoolwork that they were supposed to be submitting later is already long gone. Even their lockers were stuffed with sand and sea water, spilling all over their uniforms as soon as they opened it. The teachers scolded them for the mess they ‘created’ no matter the protests that they never did, but who would believe them if they said it was Levi’s doing? The girls never uttered your name again.

Satan

The teacher assigned you both as partners for a class project due next week, and Satan suggested that it’s best to get a head start on it while your schedules are free. You babysit all of his brothers every day, so Satan expects that your days are going to be quite busy if any of them knew you had a bit of free time to spare. At least his plans are something productive, he gets to spend time with you while also finishing some homework together. 

It’s ten minutes past the agreed time you both were supposed to meet. Satan is outside the school library, tapping his foot on the floor as he messaged you but receiving no response. He knows he could’ve gone ahead to do some research to pass the time, but the point of this study date was to do the project together. It’s never like you to be late without any notice, so he sets out to look for you. 

Satan is walking swiftly, wondering if you were still at the cafeteria. He dials your number to try to call you during his search, and he stops in his tracks when finds your phone on the ground, the screen cracked. It brought alarms in his head and he picked it up to figure out where you must’ve dropped it. It wasn’t hard because he soon spotted the crowd of demons by the stairway nearby. He could immediately guess what happened as he ran to the crowd, and he’s shocked when finally sees that you were the source of commotion.

He doesn’t care how many students he shoved just to get to your side. Seeing you on the ground in pain already warrants an emergency. Satan guessed your phone flew out of your hand when you fell. “What happened to you?! Where does it hurt?!” Satan asks, pulling you close in his arms and checking what’s causing you pain. He sees your ankle swelling slightly, and he’s trying to deduce what he can do to help after reading all of those human health care books just for you.

Though the laughter he’s hearing from the distance is annoying and distracting. Satan glances up and spots the two girls fleeing the scene, looking so proud of themselves. When he realizes what happened to you, his anger is already bubbling through the surface that it’s almost hard to contain. The pained expression on your face doesn’t help, the only reason he hasn’t fully transformed into his demon form is that he doesn’t want to draw more attention or hurt you more than you already are.

The way these students crowded around you like vultures to a feast is making Satan frustrated at each and everyone of them. How could they just stand there and watch while you were in pain? And those two girls, he will make sure to burn their faces into his memory for later. You could practically feel the heat of his wrath radiating from your pact and it’s making your body hurt more. Satan realized that his temper right now could be causing you more pain, so he focuses his thoughts into getting you some help instead of the anger that wants to burn everything and everyone around you.

“Calm down… just calm down…” he mutters over and over while he gently scoops you into his arms, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself. Satan is careful when carrying you so he can take you to the infirmary, and all the students parted like the red sea when Satan shot glares at them, quickly scattering like rats while the two of you disappeared into the infirmary. 

His eyebrows are furrowed the entire time as he waits for you to get patched up. His brothers have already arrived after they heard what happened, though they could sense that the fourth born is already on edge like a ticking time bomb. He’s quiet not because there’s nothing to say, but because he’s trying to hatch a plan. Something like this shouldnt go unpunished…

Satan is glad for his position in the student council because it meant that he could access some files from RAD. What does he do best? Studying and gathering as much information as he could. He looks for any detention notices until he finds the names and faces of the two girls that hurt you. A smile spreads across his face, though it was nothing pleasant. Like he just found his new prey. 

He just needs to wait for that detention day, patience is the key to success. So for now he’ll focus on taking care of you. Satan pays more attention to you, always attentive to your needs. He brings you notes from any classes that you’ve missed during your recovery, and you heard from one of the brothers that they’re all trying to rack up money for a better phone since yours broke. you do admit that you feel bad for all the extra work he puts up for your sake, especially since Satan even had to do most of the project that you both were originally supposed to do together in the first place if it weren’t for the incident.

“You’re speaking nonsense. I don’t mind putting in more effort just for you, all you need to do is to recover. I’ll consider that as my thanks.” Satan would bring you books in bed or make you some coffee topped with some latte art just so you wouldn’t feel so bored. You can’t go to cafes or libraries with him like you both used to, so Satan will do everything with you in the comforts of your room. 

Satan counted the days until it was time. He assigns another brother to watch over you. Asmo pretends not to hear the sound of the main door closing in the middle of the night, distracting you with something pretty he recently bought. The next school day rolls around and everyone is lucky you’re still in bed rest when the news broke out. Two students were found unconscious on the stairs in an awful state. Normally, falling down a flight of stairs doesn’t do much damage to a demon as much as it can to humans. And yet the bones in their legs were absolutely shattered…

None of the brothers were honestly too bothered to tell you the events that transpired, mostly because they knew the culprit. Satan would rather that you focus your energy on recovering. The only news that Satan told you was that you both got a perfect mark on the project you both worked on in the comforts of your room, but he doesn’t bring up what happened to those two demons. You only found out when Solomon accidentally told you during his visits. 

Asmo

There’s only a few minutes left before the next bell would ring, so Asmo makes sure to retouch his makeup in the school’s bathroom just as he usually does. He dedicates twenty minutes of his daily time making sure that he looks absolutely perfect, so he could bless the eyes of those who pass by to bear witness of his beauty. At least, that’s what he always tells you whenever he leaves. 

Just a bit of blush here and there to match his eye shadow, and Asmo has this proud smile on his face when he’s sure that he looks absolutely spotless. He wanted to bring you along to his little pre-class make up routines, and maybe next time he’ll hear that sweet ‘yes’ from you when he asks. Just thinking about you is making him giddy, so Asmo packed up his pouch and tried to look for you.

It didn’t take him long because as soon as he opened the bathroom door, he spotted a few students by the stairs. Asmo finds it unusual because what could be so important that he’s not the center of attention? Regardless, he’s intrigued enough to investigate the source and he’s horrified to see you down the stairs, clutching your ankle. 

If it wasn’t you, then it was Asmo’s shriek that probably drew more attention to the scene. He’s quickly running to your side and checks if you hit your pretty little face anywhere. “Darling, that must’ve been a nasty fall! I would hate it if you got any bruises anywhere on that perfect skin of yours.” Asmo whines as he helps you sit up to give you more support, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

When he did so, he heard a scoff and finally turned his attention to the top of the stairs where the two girls looked at you with disgust. He recognizes one of them from his fanclubs, a girl that often tried to get his attention. The facial expressions and body language says all he needs to know, he’s seen this look before. Someone like you being held by Asmo is a major offense to her eyes. The two demons storm off before Asmo could say anything. 

Asmo pursed his lips together in frustration before he turned to all the students crowding around you. For once, he hated this attention you’re getting and he sees how much you’re getting shaken by this. “Scram.” Asmo said with enchanted glowing eyes, watching as they all obeyed his command. He then turns to you and wraps your arm over his shoulder to hoist you up. “Come on, let’s get that treated or Lucifer will kill me!” Asmo says to try lighten the mood, though it doesn’t hide the bloodlust in his eyes. 

He doesn’t like sweating when he just retouched his makeup, but he can’t even bring himself to think about that now whenever he hears the pained whimpers from you everytime you struggle to take a step. The brother’s eventually arrive to find Asmo outside the Infirmary, scrolling through his phone. Looking closely, he’s actually stalking the profile of the demon he saw earlier and there’s a sinister smile on his face whenever he learns something new about his target. The smile was enough to creep Levi out. 

Asmo is always checking up on you when you’re at home recovering, trying to cheer you up whenever he has the chance. It’s gotten to the point he lessened his time clubbing or going to malls just so he could stay with you. “When you’re out of that cast, there will be a special bath full of rose petals with your name written all over it.” Asmo does his best to pamper you whenever he can, knowing how hard it must be to have that cast. It’s truly awful when these sorts of things have to happen to you when you both just bought some matching shoes together! He decides not to wear it yet until your foot gets better.

While you were gone, Asmo did what does best. Gossip. He started giving that other demon attention like she always wanted, whispering and suggesting things in her ear. About how that other demon, her friend, was saying disgusting things behind her back and Asmo is only telling her this to ‘look out’ for her sake. He relishes in her angered expression, knowing he now has her wrapped around his finger like a puppet and all he needed to do was sit back to watch the show.

Each day he found himself feeling excited to go to school just to see how those two would hurt each other this time. It started as something petty with his fan constantly bumping into what she used to consider as a friend, feigning ignorance whenever she’s confronted. Of course, she retaliated back until their silent arguments full of passive-aggressiveness turned into something more violent and hostile. It started from mean notes to death threats until they can’t even stand being in the same room without trying to claw out each other’s eyes. All because of Asmo’s pretty words.

There are times teachers are called to intervene because two girls began fighting in the hallways, screaming profanities while pulling at the other’s hair or horns. Whenever the drama dies down, Asmo would go back to add more fuel to the fire just to watch them burn. He tells his dedicated fan more lies just to enable that rage, spreading a rumor or two around the campus to make it sound reliable. He loves having that charm that captivates and charms, especially someone as gullible as this demon who’d listen to anything he says.

News was no longer about your recent incident, it was now about how the two demons fought so badly that they fell over the stair railings from the top floor all the way down. Given the severity of the injuries they’ve given each other from the week alone, they had no choice but to be suspended until the student council decides what to do with them. 

Of course, the brothers knew Asmo pulled the strings, seeing that smile on his face whenever the two girls would try to tear each other apart made it so obvious. Not only was it easy and entertaining, but it kept his nails clean too. It’s not like he broke a rule right? They both did this to themselves. “I can’t wait to tell my darling what happened~!” Asmo hums excitedly on his way home to you.

Beel

Lunch time is definitely Beel’s favorite part of the day (and the lunch lady's worst nightmare). He’s golfing down as much food as he could since he’s been so hungry from his last class which was Magical Potions. Whenever his hunger starts to act up, it’s already a struggle not to eat the ingredients to alleviate it, knowing his teacher would scold him just like last time when he chowed down the entire jar of shadow salamander tails. 

He’s lucky whenever you both are paired up together, since you bring him some candies to alleviate his hunger enough for him to focus again. You were his lifesaver. Just the thought of you makes Beel wonder where you were. He went ahead today because you said you needed to see Satan to discuss a project, and you were taking quite a while. He’s had food saved up for you and it’s getting harder for Beel not to eat your share, plus it’s always better when you both eat together. 

The last straw was when he saw Satan in the cafeteria and when he asked the blonde where you were, the fourth born said he couldn’t find you. Beel grabs a few snacks to keep his stomach going when he searches for you. Normally it’s hard to convince Beel to leave the cafeteria during lunch break, but you’re that important for him to abandon the heaping food on his table. He was trained as an angel to be ready for any sort of disaster, and his gut is telling him that something is definitely wrong. He only confirmed it when he was walking down the stairs and saw everything. 

Two girls were laughing and mocking the human he’s grown to love and care for, and when he found you on the bottom of the stairs after a fall, Beel was seeing red. He doesn’t hesitate to slam his fist against the wall and demand silence, because there was no way he was going to let them insult you any further. The two demons saw him and stiffened, quickly running away from the scene to avoid getting caught. The girls knew that Beel would crack their skulls open like he did to that wall if he got his hands on them.

Beel normally would’ve gone after them, but seeing how you’re struggling to get up on your own is what changed his mind and ran to you instead. He doesn’t even get to run all the way, at some point Beel jumps down the last flight of stairs just to reach you quicker. “Tell me if it hurts…” Beel whispers as he tries to help you up. You winced from the pain, and he decided to effortlessly carry you all the way to the infirmary because he would never make you limp this entire trip and deal with the ache. He’s a big demon, and lots of people find him terrifying when aggravated. And yet he’s so gentle when it comes to you.

Being a fangol player, Beel knows what it’s like to hurt yourself. He’s had Lucifer and Mammon help him back to the house after one intense match against the opposing team. The difference is that he could heal a bit more quickly compared to your fragile human body. What normally takes days for his body to regenerate could last months for you. He’s being careful when he carries you to the infirmary, holding you close like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held and he might be right at this point when he watches the nurses patch you up.

Beel is pacing so much outside the infirmary that his twin had to calm him down before he would drill a hole in the middle of the halls, his head is thinking about all of the what-ifs. Luckily you weren’t critical, save for the sprained ankle, but there’s this guilt on his face when he looks through the window and sees your cast. Maybe he should’ve been with you when you went looking for Satan so that he would have protected you, but what’s done is done now. So he focuses on taking care of you and reminding you that you could always rely on him for help.

He brings you some of your favorite treats whenever he comes home from RAD so you both could eat together. At some point, he heard from Solomon that milk is the key for humans to have stronger bones. You tried not to laugh when Beel got a galon just for you, innocently thinking that it would’ve helped you out with your injury if you drank all of it. 

Beel is too nice for a demon, he might be the kindest of the seven brothers. But there’s been this tension around the orange haired demon whenever he’s sharing a class with the two girls that pushed you down those stairs. There's this hardly contained rage and blood lust, so a lot of students avoided mentioning what happened to you around him unless they want to get caught in the crossfire. 

Beel finds it frustrating whenever he feels that he can't do anything about this rage. Watching you limp around in crutches around the house while those girls were striding down the halls without a care, it wasn't fair. It’s taking all his willpower not to just throw them out of the window for what they did to you. He broke several pens whenever he's too angry during class that Satan had to lend him some of his own. He feels this loss of appetite now that you’re not around to share food with him, and whenever he would remember the incident he would bend the metal of his fork, shaping it effortlessly like it’s clay. It’s a matter of concern for the brothers now.

Belphie took his twin out to the gym so Beel could let his frustrations through workouts. He may have destroyed two punching bags, but it was enough to bring down that anger to a safer level now. And during all that, Beel finally confided in his twin. About how he saw those girls mock you, and this innate urge to just see them suffer but it’s impossible to do that without destroying everything in his path. He would get in a lot of trouble, and he knows that would upset you instead. 

“It’s just unfair, you know that they didn’t deserve that…” Just because he was nice doesn’t mean he wasn’t vengeful, but he’s at a loss of what he could do that wouldn’t result in another property damage bill sitting on Lucifer’s desk. Belphie can just sense how his Beel is itching for a bit of revenge, and who is he to deny what his twin wants? 

For Magical Potions, Beel had to partner up with Satan and Belphie since you’ll be absent for the time being. They had the perfect plan, all Satan needed was a good sleight of hand to drop something in their cauldron when he walks by. Given that these two love pulling pranks on Lucifer specifically, they took a page out of their book of schemes for new targets. 

Maybe his brothers forgot to consider that these two demons do not have the same kind of strength or resistance that the eldest had… or they both did this on purpose. Adding hellfire frog legs into the girl’s cauldron during Magical Potions class was actually more explosive than they expected, resulting in awful burns on their skin and hair. Beel’s priority is to take care of you everyday so he didn’t have much time to relish in this side of his that wants to wreak havoc, but he admits that seeing your bullies in pain like this is actually fun. It’s almost as satisfying as those ten stack pancakes he had two days ago… ah great, now he’s getting hungry again.

Beel is coming home to you with a box of your favorite treats. You wanted to try those new batch of sweets from Madame Scream but the brothers kept you in bed rest due to your ankle, so Beel went out of the trouble to get them for you. It took a lot of willpower not to eat a single one on the way back which deserves praise. You’ve been feeding him so many snacks during class to help him focus, this is his way of returning the favor to you. 

He doesn’t bring up what happened during potions class with the girls that pushed you, and he honestly didn’t feel the need to do so since they weren’t important as you are to him. He’s too busy trying to feed you some yummy snacks to even think about that. You only hear about what happened through his twin who was grinning from ear to ear when he recalls the boils and burnt hair. “Well, it’s their fault for not checking their cauldron. They’re not smart and careful like you.” 

Belphie

Belphie found a perfect spot to sleep around RAD where he’s sure Lucifer won’t spot him yet. It’s hidden in the school gardens, a nice secluded area with a small bench surrounded by bushes that would surely keep him out of sight. He’s been slowly putting pillows and blankets he’s brought so that it becomes a little slumber haven for him, and Belphie feels that he’s ready to show you his secret spot. He’d never tell his brothers because he wants to have at least a few minutes alone with you every weekday.

The problem with that plan is that Belphie can’t even find you. He’s already at the verge of passing out from the exhaustion of trying to keep himself awake in his search for you. Lunch in school is normally his nap time allowance, but he really did want to show you this secret hide out so that you both could enjoy it together. 

He runs into his twin who was also looking for you, so it’s better they just stuck together right? Belphie had plans to show Beel anyways once this was done with. They passed by a corner to go upstairs in case you were already in the classroom, and that’s when they both saw you at the bottom of the stairs where those two girls were laughing at you. 

Belphie didn’t know what came over him, but his body could hardly move when he saw you like that. It’s bringing him a lot of bad memories of choices he came to regret until this day, remembering the things he did to you when he threw your body down the stairs. He wanted to forget that, but seeing this whole situation is making that memory repeat in his head. Like the guilt is creeping back to him, and he froze in place not knowing what to do other than to relive the moment. 

Beel grabbed Belphie by the wrist to snap him out of the trance, reminding the youngest that you need some help. The twins came by your side, hoisting your arms over their shoulders to help you in the infirmary. The two girls were already long gone while Belphie was in a frozen state, and Beel would’ve gone after them if not for his twin and you because his family always comes first. 

The one thing that’s comforting Belphie right now is the fact that you’re still alive and breathing, though it can only do so much. He doesn’t like seeing you in pain like this, so he offers a spell so you could sleep through it while the nurse from the infirmary patches you up. He’s quiet the entire time when he watches you rest, Beel tries to talk to his twin about it but he refuses to let his problems known. It’s not like it was hard to guess, Beel can tell what’s bothering his twin but doesn’t mention it. 

Belphie has been taking naps by your side whenever possible, sleeping in your room and making sure to give you sweet dreams each time you start falling asleep. Though he himself couldn’t sleep. Each time he tries to get some shut eye with you, he ends up reliving that day when they found you at the bottom of the stairs. The way those girls mocked you was unforgivable, and he hates how it’s hitting too close to home. Whenever he wakes up, he checks on your pulse while you’re asleep and sighs in relief every time he feels your heart beat. Like it’s the only thing that can calm him down. 

By the time he woke up from his third nightmare, Belphie had enough. If he wants to feel at peace again, then he needs to get rid of the source of the problem. It wasn’t fair that you’re suffering like this, he hates seeing the empty seat next to him in class knowing that you’re supposed to be there instead of staying at home with that cast. Lucifer told him that they’ll be dealing with the matters soon, but Belphie had no intention of listening to them in the first place. 

Belphie has been gradually giving the two girls nightmares, and each night they progressively get worse. From using their phobias against them to waking up from a gorefest nightmare in the middle of the night. It costs them sleep, and Belphie thinks it’s the perfect piece of karma whenever he sees the bags under their eyes getting darker each day. Hair and clothes started to look more haphazard when there’s barely any energy to keep themselves up.

Whenever Belphie shares a class with them, he pulls a little bit of magic to make them fall asleep during class until they get into a lot of trouble. He loves doing this when there are important tests and activities so they’d miss it and fail. No amount of coffee helps keep them awake during the day while the nightmares plague their sleep. The constant fatigue and the lack of sleep is starting to get to them, and Belphie has been observing everything. Movements were more sluggish and alertness has gone below the baseline. Just exactly what Belphie was waiting for. 

It’s a simple plan that leads to the least amount of struggling and effort needed, because all it took was one shove for them to tumble out of the railings and down several flights of stairs. When they’ve finally stopped rolling against the stairs, they hear Belphie’s heavy footsteps as he walks down to their level until he’s stepping on one of them with the heel of his foot. He’d compare them to bugs, but that would be insulting to all insects.

“You know, I had a lot of plans with them that day… I don’t like it when people, even my brothers, decide to ruin them.” His love for you and spoiled attitude is what’s fueling his anger right now, so he had no qualms with pushing them down the next flight of stairs with his foot. And whenever they think it’s over, he goes down and does this again. Like kicking a pebble he’s found on the ground… all the way down to the first floor. 

There’s this satisfied look on his face as soon as he sees the two girls on the floor already at the brink of unconsciousness. He feels so much lighter now, and all he can think of is how he wants to go home to take a nap with you. He doesn’t even walk over to the side, he just steps over the two girls on his way out. 

Belphie comes home with the usual drowsy expression, but you can tell he’s in a much better mood now. He lays down next to you in bed, already hugging you close to his chest while making sure he’s not hurting your ankle. “I think I can get more sleep now…” he says with a confident smile on his lips, lulling you to slumber with him. After that incident, it’s the first in a while that Belphie finally has his usual 10 hour nap. 

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

[lovelybrooke]

Tbh if I ever went back to my world I would take grim with me

Honestly, true, but you also have to think about what Grim wants. Grim wants to become a Mage, and even though he's a little bit of a slacker, he works incredibly hard. I think Grim truly cares for you, but he also has dreams, and it makes it hard decision if you do give him the option to come with you back to your world. There's no magic there, so everything he worked for would be for nothing. But on the other hand, he doesn't really know if he wants to continue going to Nights Raven if he doesn't have his favorite human with him. It's truly a pickle.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst

[calaisreno]

Three Women Perplex the British Government

1362 words / Prompt: Journey / A sequel to Sixth Sense. (Just in case you were wondering what Molly decided to do!)

---

He doesn’t recognise the woman standing before him. His mother trained him well, though, so he rises and gestures at the chair. 

“Please.” He glances at Anthea, who is giving him an inscrutable look from the doorway. The one that says he’s offended her in some way that she will neither admit nor explain. 

Anthea closes the door. Mycroft regards the woman, who is still standing. 

“Please,” he repeats, giving her a generic smile. 

His visitor is regarding him as well. Studying him. No smile. “I’d rather not.”

She’s a tiny woman, and he’s a tall man. If she would only sit down, he could sit as well, and it would not feel so much like he’s bullying her. That’s not his style, at least not with women. Small women, dressed in hand knit jumpers. 

He has no idea what she wants, but is afraid that some persuasion might be necessary. Not the bullying he reserves for his brother, or even the subtle manipulation he aims at John Watson, a difficult man to intimidate.

“Miss…?” He feels like he ought to know her. 

“Molly Hooper,” she says. “We haven’t met. I’m—”

“Yes, of course. Doctor Hooper. How can I help you?” He looks down at her, desperately wishing she’d take the chair. “I should thank you,” he remembers to say. “Your help was greatly appreciated. I hope my brother expressed that to you.”

“I’m here about John Watson.”

“Ah.” He narrows his eyes, anticipating the outburst of sentiment she will unleash. “I’m maintaining surveillance on him. You need not concern yourself about any retribution against him. He is safe.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, folding her arms across her chest and glaring. She’s about as intimidating as a kindergarten teacher, but she’s making him uneasy. 

He should have anticipated this. Sherlock assured him that she would play her part well, and Mycroft himself managed the business about the body. But even a goldfish might have a conscience, especially if other goldfish are asking questions.

“Are you receiving any scrutiny over your part in the plan? That can be handled.”

“No, it’s fine. What I mean is, John isn’t coping well with Sherlock’s death.”

“Ah. My brother asked you to assist him in keeping Doctor Watson in the dark, and you’re feeling guilty that you know things which he does not. I assure you that we considered all possible scenarios, and none of them involved taking Doctor Watson into our confidence.”

“Why not?”

“Doctor Watson is a soldier. He is used to death and equipped to handle grief.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” she says, glaring in earnest now. “It’s been months. Have you seen him?”

“My people are keeping a weather eye on him.”

“But you haven’t called on him?”

“He would not appreciate hearing from me, Doctor Hooper. I’m afraid my concern will not help him.”

She closes her eyes briefly, shaking her head. “You made a mistake. You and Sherlock.”

“There were not many options before us.”

“Was it you or Sherlock who decided not to tell him?”

“My brother has a great deal of sentiment for Doctor Watson. I’m afraid I had to dissuade him.”

Her voice raises. “Because he loves John?”

“Doctor Watson is not…” He considers how he should word it, decides that being forthright will end this conversation sooner. “My brother’s feelings are not returned. Cannot be returned. Sherlock is gay, and Doctor Watson is not.”

“How do you know?”

“He has stated this publicly several times. Sherlock knows as well. In order to undertake the task he set for himself, it was necessary to leave him behind. I have no doubt that the doctor will meet a lovely woman and be married before long.”

“I don’t care what label you put on him. He loved Sherlock, and it’s killing him that he’s dead. He has PTSD. When they met, he was suicidal. If anything happens to him—”

“Miss Hooper. If you are considering breaking your promise, I must warn you. This matter involves branches of our government whose existence is unknown to most people. I would hate to—”

“Don’t threaten me, Mr Holmes,” she says. “At this point, what is the harm in telling him? If there are still snipers trailing after him, you haven’t done a very good job, have you? And if there aren’t any snipers, there’s no reason not to tell him.”

He has erred. This woman is no goldfish. 

And Anthea keeps asking him about Watson, suggesting that it’s time he knew. 

And then there’s this other woman. Mary Morstan, she calls herself. A complication. She vexes him. 

“Very well,” he says. “I will handle it.”

---

“Well, I’m back,” John says. 

The headstone is silent, as it should be. John Watson does not look like a man who expects an answer from a block of marble. He squares his shoulders and stands at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I’m back again,” he repeats. “I just wanted to tell you something.”

He looks uneasy, Mycroft thinks. A confession, then.

“When you died, I thought I’d never… find myself again. I wasn’t good, not for a long time. Maybe that would surprise you.” He smiles grimly. “Well, you’re beyond surprise now, so I may as well say what I didn’t say the first time I came here. No, I’m not going to ask again. I know there’s not going to be any miracle. You’re not… coming back.” 

He lowers his face into his hand. For a moment his shoulders shake. Mycroft waits.

Drawing a deep breath, he raises his head. “So, this is it. What I should have told you… when it might have made a difference. Maybe it wouldn’t have, but I wish I’d said, just in case… well. I love you. I always did.” Choking back a sob, he continues. “You didn’t do that, though. No sentiment. Caring’s not an advantage. Yeah. But I did. Love you.”

The sentiment is so thick, it’s almost nauseating. Mycroft desperately wants a cigarette. Reminding himself of what he’s here to do, he waits.

“Once, I asked you for a miracle. But there aren’t any miracles, at least not for us. And now…” John wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper. “Now it’s time. I know I’ll never be over you, never forget what it was like… but I’m alive, and I think I have to do something to stay that way. Get on with it, try to have a life without you.” He clears his throat and sniffs. “I met somebody. She isn’t you, but I think you would have liked her, that she would’ve been the one who finally passed muster. I know she would’ve liked you. So, I’m giving it a go, asking her. To marry me, I mean.” 

He makes a sound that might be a laugh, or maybe a sob. “I have to try,” he says. “I wish… well, it’s no use. I love you, but you’re not here. And I just can’t be alone forever. So.” He straightens his back, nods at the black marble. “This is goodbye, Sherlock.” 

As he turns, Mycroft steps out. John’s eyes widen, then narrow with suspicion. 

“Doctor Watson,” he says. “There are several things you need to know.”

—-

When he opens the door of his office, Anthea is waiting for him.

“Well?”

“You were right.” He sighs and meets her eyes. “Good call.”

The look on her face softens into a barely-detectable smile. “I’ve taken care of the Morstan woman. Extradition is underway.”

“She was…?” 

“Yes. Different name, but she’d done several jobs for him. The Americans will be glad to have her back. She won’t be visiting us any time soon.”

He nods, suddenly weary, and sinks into his chair. Too much sentiment, too much emotion. It’s exhausting. “Now we only need to bring my brother home.”

“We’ve received word this morning that he’s on his way to to Serbia.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Intercept him. We’ll let Baynes and his team handle that. Sherlock needs to come home.”

Her smile broadens. “As you wish.”

The door closes behind her. 

“Good journey, brother,” he whispers. “No more surprises.”

---

Read / comment on AO3

#mayprompts2024 #mycroft holmes #molly hooper #anthea #mary morstan

[drwstarkeyy]

01. white dress

JJ Maybank x Reader

Series Masterlist here

Can also be found on wattpad as JJ x Oc here

Series warnings; abuse, smut, underage drinking/smoking, alcohol, drugs, jj is a dick so is Rafe, death, eating disorder (only a little)

"THE club sandwich, please." JJ wrote down the order on his notepad.

"Honey, what about a salad?" Y/n frowned at her mother. Camila Torres was one special lady.

"I'm not craving a salad, mom." She looked down to her hands, that were placed on her lap. Going against her mother was never easy, she always won.

"But midsummer is coming up, you need to think about what you eat." It is not the first time she had mentioned it. Her mother had already bought the dress. It took a whole day and a lot of wine, but finally Rose and Camila had decided what Y/n and Rafe should wear, she would be furious if Y/n could not fit in it.

"Midsummers is six months away." The girl spoke quietly. Fidgeting with the Chanel bracelet Rafe had gifted her.

"She'll have a caesar salad. I'll have the same." JJ scratched out the 'club sandwich' and added two salads. This was more common then you would think, and JJ learned it is best to just do as you are told.

"Coming right up, ma'am." The blond said before disappearing inside.

"Maybe you would like to join me for pilates this afternoon. You'd be amazed how fun it is." Her mom have always asked her to join, but Y/n did not see much fun in hanging out with women who had a midlife crisis, talking about how hot the guy who works for them are.

"Can't, Rafe said he would take me out." Truthfully he was, and for once she was glad she did not have to make up an excuse.

"Oh, how lovely. I can't remember the last time I had a date. You're so lucky to have him." She knew that already, and somehow it made her feel guilty, like she did not deserve him.

"And how is tennis going? All good I hope." Tennis. A sport she hated, but did it to please her mother.

"It's going good. My coach says I have the potential of getting an athletic scholarship." It was true. Although she hated the sport, she had played it for so long, and was really good at it.

"That's great, honey. Although you won't need it." Before Y/n could respond, the same blond walked up to the table, placing the food down. Muttering a quiet 'enjoy your meal', before he left.

Taking a sip out of the lemon water her mother had ordered for her, she plucked up the courage to question her. "Why?"

Taking a bite before she responded, her mother chuckled. "Well, you're going to studying law, like me. That athlete thing is only temporary. Besides it would be a surprise to even see you working after school, dating Rafe and all."

Y/n picked her fork up, moving the food around with it. This doesn't look appetizing at all right now. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's nothing bad, honey. I just mean that Rafe is a very hard working man. Soon he will inherit his father's company, and have a busy life. You guys would need someone to take care of your children, I just think it would be a good option for you to be at home. You've always loved kids, and cooking, it is perfect." Y/n felt like she would throw up. To some that life might seem as the perfect one, but to her it felt claustrophobic. She would feel trapped.

The girl picked up the napkin that was in her lap, before standing up. "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." She didn't even care for her mother's response, before she turned and headed inside.

THREE MORE HOURS then JJ's shift was over. Three more hours of spending time with ignorant kooks. Three more hours of torture.

As he picked plates from an abandoned table, he look up to meet Camila Torres eyes, who waved him over. He noticed the other girl was not there, and her food was untouched, but he would be lying if he said he cared.

"One more glass of red, thanks." JJ nodded at the request, walking away towards the kitchen. Dropping the dirty plates he was caring into the sink, before he made his way towards the bar. Picking up a serving plate, although it was only one drink, a drink he could easily just hold in his hand, his boss had given him hell about it before, 'it doesn't look good'. JJ thought that was weird, because it looks worse with just one drink on the service plate. When he finally had the glass with red wine, he made his way over to the lady.

He did not get far though, because just seconds later Y/n emerged from the bathroom, crashing into him. JJ cringed at the red beverage, that was now covering the girl's white summer dress.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." At least she had the decency to acknowledge it was her fault. Luckily, the glass had fallen on the service plate, so he wouldn't have to pick up broken glass. Feeling is boss starting at him, he quickly got into service mode.

"No, no, it's my fault, really. I apologize." The blond moved quickly to get some napkins, although he knew it would not help. As she received the napkins she looked up at him. JJ would lie if he said she wasn't attractive, she was drop dead gorgeous, but he already decided she was horrible, and her dating Rafe just proved it.

"Thank you." She sweetly thanked him. JJ took the wet napkins, and placed them next to the empty glass.

JJ leaned down a bit, not being able to resist. "Good thing daddy's money can buy you a new dress." Y/n looked up at him, a frown on her face. "Besides, white isn't your color, anyways."

"Asshole." The girl muttered, before making her way back towards her mother.

As JJ went and filled another glass with red wine, she sat down in front of her mother.

"You need to look where you are going, honey." He bit down a smile at her mother's words. Placing down the red wine in front of her. Not one single 'thank you' or even a glance was spared at him. Spoiled fuckers.

RAFE CAMERON was anything but happy when he picked the girl up, later that evening.

"You're telling me that fucker ruined your dress?" His fists clenched around the steering wheel.

"No. I'm saying I ruined it by accidentally bumping into him. He was just an asshole about it though. Saying, and I quote, 'daddy's money can buy you a new dress'. Trying to make me feel guilty or something for being born with money." Yes, Y/n ranted a lot to Rafe. It was not like he minded though, although more then half of her little rant sessions, he could not even remember.

"I told you he was a dick, babe." Rafe's right hand landed on her thigh, his left one still on the steering wheel.

"Anyways, where are you taking me?" Date night with Rafe was always a surprise.

"Topper's throwing a party. Have to make an appearance." She just nodded. Rafe was hard to figure out sometimes, and one of the things Y/n never understood was the lack of information he gave out. She just knew he was taking her somewhere, and that means everything between the fanciest restaurant in Chapel Hill, or a party. Luckily she had gotten pretty good at choosing outfits. A simple black dress did the work just fine. Usually Rafe would have been telling her to change, since it was low cut and short, but during kook parties, he loved showing her off. Like a trophy.

THE HOUSE was crowded. It was unusual for Topper to invite pogues, and knowing him he probably didn't. Yet everyone was too drunk to give a shit. The smell of alcohol and sweat, mixed with the lack of fresh air, was something the brunette was used to now. Every week, there were at least one party Rafe dragged her to.

Pouring a new drink into the red solo cup, Y/n felt someone's presence next to her.

"Told you white isn't your color. Black looks so much better." JJ Maybank had a talent for showing up where he wasn't wanted. Without even looking at him, she walked away, rejoining Rafe, who pulled her down to his lap.

Her face frowned as she spotted the white lines on the coffee table. Annoyed by the situation she decided to leave.

"Where you going?" Even though Rafe was high, he wouldn't let her wander around the house alone.

"Bathroom." She saw as he sniffed a new line, and without waiting for his response, she walked away.

Seeing the long line to the bathroom, made her realize she didn't need to pee that badly. But she didn't want to go back to Rafe, not right now. So she headed outside for some fresh air. Even though it was warm during the day, the February air made it chilly during the night.

She could still hear The Nights by Avicii blasting, followed by people screaming the lyrics.

"Finally ditched your bodyguard?" There it was again, that annoying voice that belonged to JJ. Y/n chose to just ignore him, maybe he'd go away, but it seemed like he had made her his personal target, ever since the wine incident.

She saw a sudden light in the corner of her eye, turning her head towards the blond, she found him with a lit joint between his lips. Meeting her eyes, he removed the joint from his lips, and held it out towards her.

"I don't smoke." She simply said. An answer that made JJ let out a chuckle.

"Of course you don't." Her eyebrows pulled together as she looked at him.

"Little miss perfect, right?" She didn't know why that nickname annoyed her so much, but it did.

"Why do you even bother talking to me?" She finally questioned, ignoring his statement.

"Not sure. Maybe because seeing a frown on your face, makes me happy." He spoke simply, taking another drag of his joint.

"You know that's kinda psychotic, right? Wishing pain on others." She didn't know why she even bothered talking to him, yet she continued.

"I didn't say I wish you were in pain. I just like seeing that stick up your ass disappear." He chuckled coldly. "Plus, I know you want approval from everyone, and won't be able to stand the thought that someone out in this world hates you."

"You hate me?" Her question was real, and JJ couldn't understand how dumb she was. She is a rich kook, of course people hated her.

"Damn right I do." He answered blankly.

"How can you hate me? You don't even know me." She hated that he was right, approval meant everything to her.

"I know enough." He moved closer, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "Little miss perfect. Virgin, straight A's." He leaned down to her ear. "A spoiled fucking brat." She pushed him away, her hands hitting his chest. A grin covered his face, this was exactly the reaction he was looking for. Without a word she left the blond boy for the second time that night.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx fanfiction #obx fic #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader

[everybodyhatesmiddleschool]

It has been six excruciating days since I was plunged into the Bridgerton fandom against my will.

I was minding my own business, watching YouTube compilations of the best kisses in TV history, when I unwittingly clicked on a video about Colin and Penelope, and I was immediately down so bad for them.

Let me be clear: Bridgerton was not part of my life before I clicked on that video. I wanted nothing to do with it; I had no intention of ever watching or reading that smut. And then, without warning, it swept in and took me in the night, much like Colin Bridgerton in the back of a carriage.

To say I have been lost in the sauce these past six days would be a gross understatement. The carriage scene is literally ruining my life. I haven’t gone to sleep before 1 a.m. since Sunday, and I have been over an hour late to work every day. Why? Because I cannot stop consuming that godforsaken scene — watching gifs of it over and over, reading y’all’s hilarious takes and memes about it, watching it with the audio descriptions turned on (🥵), watching it with the music removed (🥵🥵), watching Luke and Nicola on their press tour, watching, watching, watching.

Have I started actually watching season 1 of the show? Of course. Did I check out the large-print version of the first book from the library since it was the only copy available? You bet. But I do not care about these other characters and storylines. I want it to be Colin and Penelope on the screen and the page in every sentence and every scene.

And either fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t even have to be looking at a screen to be distracted by them — my daydreaming has never been as maladaptive in my life as it has been this week. I can hardly think of one ten-minute stretch in the past six days in which some imaginary scenario has not been taking over my brain. I want to be part of their world so bad — not just Bridgerton, but Shondaland. As is the case for 90% of all of my daydreams, I want these actors to know I exist. I want them to look at me with just as much awe and love as I look at them. So I might be staring at my computer screen in my cubicle, but in my mind, I’m on a press tour of my own that intersects with theirs. (I’m never the desperate fan with no life in my dreams; my idols always see me as their equal). I might be driving my commute in my car, but in my mind, they’re congratulating me about my own novel being optioned by Netflix. I might be brushing my teeth in my bathroom, but in my mind, we’re laughing together on Graham Norton’s couch.

But Lord, here comes that freaking carriage scene once again, inserting itself into my mind (pun unavoidable). I cannot get over it. I’m so stuck there that I’ve found myself wearing shoes I don’t remember putting on, carrying coffee mugs I don’t remember putting in my bag, driving a speed limit I don’t remember agreeing to as acceptable. There is laundry that needs to be folded. Bills need to be paid. Emails need to be deleted en masse without reading. But I can’t find the door that will let me out of this damn carriage.

I had a conversation with myself two days ago about how we might be able to adapt to this new living situation. After a few temper tantrums, I finally said, “Girl, if you’re going to watch this scene 1,000 times, you have got to find a way to make it a constructive part of your life.” So I did what any rational adult would do: I started writing a scholarly paper about why it’s so powerful — not just for me but, according to the internet, for a lot of women. And I have every intention of writing an entire paper about this … if I can find the time. I’m just so busy right now with consuming this damn scene.

Was starting to write that article enough to satiate my obsession with this scene, with this show and these actors? Of course not. So this morning, I started writing a spicy scene of my own, featuring not Colin and Penelope but two other vaguely outlined characters who I’m sure I’ll give names and personalities to later. I was literally sitting in my cubicle, hunched over my planner, writing down snippets of sexiness in as small a print as possible in case someone walked up on me and looked over my shoulder without me noticing. And I’m not gonna lie: this shit’s good. I’ve never written smut before, because I’ve never had enough spice in my own life to feel like I’d be able to do it justice on paper. But that imagination of mine — she’s a freak. And my mind? My mind has moved way past the gutter. It is now in the outhouse. It’s in the slop with the pigs.

It should have come as no surprise, but as usual, the act of actually writing down the jumble of mess in my brain has had the effect of breaking some of the spell. I was also forced to focus on work because of looming deadlines, and I currently feel calmer than I have since Sunday. But I am truly living in fear of June 13. I cannot go through this again, and I know that I’m bound to, because I know that what’s been shown so far won’t hold a candle to what’s coming. And if I get down bad any further, I will be deep enough in the ground for this to become my final resting place. I’m not ready to be buried, but it feels inevitable.

But somehow, despite my own wants and fears, and despite the fact that we haven’t even been introduced yet to the bedroom where Colin and Penelope are sure to end up, I am somehow already lurking from behind the window curtains in the corner, peeking out at them doing the deed. I know what I hope I’ll see: based on the excerpt I’ve seen from the book, they will be in front of a mirror — expressly because Colin wants Penelope to see herself in full for the glorious goddess she is, and she will look at her sexy, bare self with just as much pride and love as we viewers behind the screen will (but probably with slightly less lust than Colin, who I pray will be very loud about how hot she is).

I am dreaming about this scene, but I dread it. Because if it’s as good as the carriage scene, I will immediately be re-enscripted and sent right back to the trenches where I spent the last six days. I’m excited, but I’m scared. And I’m afraid of getting lost in the woods again, because I know that if I do, I won’t want to be found.

#bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #bridgerton season 3 #maladaptive daydreaming #creative writing #send help #nicola coughlan #luke newton

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Sticking Point 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: I'm moving tomorrow.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The tension turns roiling. Even in such airy halls, you cannot escape it, not that you venture very far from your rooms. It seems with each interaction, your relationship with your fiance only grows more fraught. You needn’t wonder why. It’s the very same reason your own father regards you with derision. You’re defective, less than what he hoped for. 

You sit in the window seat, looking over the greenery that reflects Jade Garden’s title. It’s a home anyone would covet and yet it feels as a penitentiary might. These walls are unyielding and the isolation suffocating. 

Your visions drifts into the distance as the leaves turn to green smears blending into the dimming blue of the sky. You close your eyes and turn your head straight, leaning against the wall as you hook your arms around your legs. 

A banquet. It’s less than a proper debut. You’re not certain anyone would be expecting you, or even know who you are. Will they be surprised when they hear your father’s name?  

There are things you know. Things you must ready yourself for. Certainly, there will be jeers, mocking whispers, and errant giggles. Just the same as anyone ever reacted to you. Even the farmhands would echo your speech and laugh bawdily. It hardly matter’s your a lord’s daughter when you sound so ridiculous. 

You hang your head and sigh. It isn’t just one banquet, it is the beginning of a lifetime of events. You will not only face this one night, but many anon. You will be the one they speak of behind their hands and the joke at the card tables. 

You stand, made restless by your dread. The window darkens with the evening’s arrival. Doreen raps at the door and leaves a tray of supper. You pick at it but don’t eat much. You must keep yourself busy so your mind is not. 

You go to your chests. You will need Doreen to unpack these soon. It’s as if the longer you leave them full, the less assured your fate. You might still strap them up and flee. 

You know that isn’t truly an option. 

You take out a gown the shade of cooked pumpkin with an overlay that lends it a bronzish hue. The bodice is trimmed with an eyelet effect and the hem of the cap sleeves and skirt finely threaded with beads. You lay it out on the chaise and find a pair of slippers to go with it and ribbon for your hair decorated with black onyx and brass. 

If Edith could see you then. It should be her in your place. That thought rings louder and louder, bolstered by the constant disapproval. 

You back away from your attire, spinning so you won’t have to look upon it. You never thought to miss home so much. Not your parents, you’re certain they hardly grieve your absence, but for the familiarity, for the simple walls and memories. Edith is there, even gone, you know you would see her in every cushion and every corner. 

You go to the door and listen. As silent as ever. You emerge into the corridor and make careful progress on the pads of your feet. You come to the top of the stairwell and peer down on the foyer. For all it’s beauty, this place is rather grim. 

You descend and let your eyes lead you. You take in every ornament, every statue, every door trim, and every tile of the floor. You want to know it all. You don’t want to feel so lost. 

You find your way along to the sunroom. Upon your approach, the door opens and you falter. A lithe figure emerges. You press yourself to the wall, unready for Loki’s appearance. He has a snifter of liquor in hand as he glowers in the light of a lantern in his other.  

He steps towards you and pauses, lifting the light higher to cast over you. His breath escapes him derisively. He lowers the lantern and sniffs. 

“Like a rat, you skitter incessantly,” he remarks. 

“My Lawd,” you push away from the wall and angle away from him. 

“I am speaking to you. Do not go until I give leave to,” he demands. 

You stop and face him again, hands meeting in apprehension. 

“This banquet business,” his nostrils flare, “I will not be humiliated. Not as you have tonight.” 

“My Lawd, I have been twained in etiq—etiqwette,” you insist. 

He scoffs, “your manners hardly bother me. Certainly you might have some grain of awareness.” 

You seal your lips. He’s said it plainly, as you have. He might be able to close his ears to your impediment but it is with you always. 

“Perhaps you might keep your words to a minimum,” he advises, “select them wisely.” 

You stare at him, cheeks fiery and eyes tinging, “If you would wather, I might make an excuse. A sudden malady, my lawd. I’d hate to stain your chawacter.” 

His eyes roll to the side and his features sharpen, “more would be said were I to appear without my betrothed after my mother’s promises.” 

That he has referred to your nuptials is not so nice as it should be. He speaks to it as a sentence. You look him in the face. 

“It won’t eva go away,” you say. 

“Hm, I only need get through the wedding night,” he retorts and you can’t help but wince. 

You swallow, your hurt turning bitter. “As do I.” 

His head tilts and he squints. He lets out another snort, “pardon?” 

“My sista would’ve hated you,” you whisper. “You did not desawve to know haw.” 

“Be wary,” he steps closer. 

“You make an enemy of me, not I you,” you lift your chin.  

He’s silent. He shifts even closer. So near, you have to keep from wilting away. You stare back at him defiantly, heart beating. 

“You do not know yet what it is to have me as an enemy so you best mind your mannaws,” he mocks your cadence with his last word. 

Your lip trembles as he green eyes sparkle like dark emeralds in the lantern lights. Your chest is a flurry of hurt and anger. What have you ever done to him, or anyone, to make them so spiteful? You swing your arm against his to knock the snifter from his hand, sending a splash of alcohol across the wall and and his vest. The smell is acrid and sour. 

You back away from him, horrified at your reaction. You have learned to restrain yourself, to tamp it all down, to swallow it with a smile and say nothing. In that moment, you simply cannot. You shake your head as your face twists in despair. 

“I would wather an enemy, saw,” you hiss, “as I would be ashamed to call a cad like you husband.” 

His glare flashes and he sways as if he might lunge at you. He rights himself and his brow arches. His lips draw and his cheeks pale. 

“Very well.” 

He spins on his heel and stomps away, the light limning his silhouette sinisterly. You stare after him mortified. What has come over you? You were never bold or brazen or brutal to any. Edith would be disappointed. A gentle soul like her could never even think a hot word. 

You fall back against the wall and clutch your hands over your chest. Is this to be your life? Are you to live in loathing, not only of that man but of yourself. To be castigated for the lilt of your own tongue, the very pulse of your existence? You’d thought your father a villain but this man has proven himself worse. 

Worst than his distaste is your own futility, for he has assured you there is nothing you might do to appease him. As he is bound to you most miserably, so are you vowed to the same fate. Not even in that might you commiserate. 

🔹

You sit in front of the mirror, holding the brooch over the table, feeling the embroidery with the pad of your thumb. You turn it over and back again. It’s the only piece of your sister you have left. Every day she feels further away from you. Every morning, you awake, expecting to hear her, to see her, and she is not there, and you are not at home. 

You peer up at your reflection as your hand hovers over the painted wood. You’ve not touched a tress or cheek. You must ready, you know it, but your reticence is like chains on your wrists. You know what you are to face but knowing cannot make it any less unpleasant. 

A knock comes at the door. You call for the maid to enter, thinking Doreen’s come to remind you again of your pending engagement. The maid opens the door but says nothing, letting in the duchess instead. Lady Frigga is almost rapturous in a dressing gown of peach fabric as her hair is set already in tight curls around an elegant chignon. You stand, apologising for your misstep. 

“Dear, it is quite forgivable,” she assures, “I only meant to look in on you before the banquet, to be certain you do not require anything, but darling, oh,” she sweeps towards you and cups your cheeks, “you’ve not even begun. What is the matter?” 

“There is no issue,” you lie, “I mewely let time escape me.” 

You smile and gently pull away, turning back to the vanity. You open your hand and once more consider the pin. 

“Is this the dress you mean to wear?” Frigga asks as she crosses the room in a swish of silk. You peer over your shoulder as she looks down on the orange fabric. “It is a rather keen shade.” 

“Yes, my lady,” you answer in a dulcet tone. You cannot find a glimmer of concern for your attire. 

She sighs and returns to you, holding the ribbon you’ve chosen, “these are far too dour,” she touches an onyx, “haven’t you some pearls?” 

“Somewhaw...” You bend your neck, staring at the bluebird, at Edith’s handiwork. You remember the day she gave it to you and the way she smiled so proudly. How she pinned it on you herself and made you go around and show all. 

“Oh, dear, that won’t go at all. It would be nice for a lunch, no doubt, but not for a banquet,” she remarks and you close your hand around the brooch. You put your shoulders straight and face her. 

“I have a pawl band in my chest,” you resign and step around her. 

You go to the chest and sift around, careful not to let the brooch slip from your grasp. You take out the pearls on the ivory band and show it to her. She tuts. 

“It won’t go with this gown,” she insists. 

“Yes, the onyx--” 

“Mmp, I prefer pearls. Darling, you must be your best. It is your first social appearance. I do not say this to demean you, only to assist. I know your own mother cannot be here to see you debut but I cannot imagine her pain at this moment. So much loss. Both daughters at once, in a way,” she bemoans. 

Yes, you think of your mother too. You know she won’t be well. Nor your father. All their hopes and dreams dashed in a deficient daughter sent to carry a legacy on with a spiteful husband who mightn’t even have the stomach to deliver one. 

“I vewy much appweciate it, lady,” you make yourself smile, “I suppose it must be nawvs.” 

“Suppose it must,” she hums, “how about you wear the orange gown and I fetch you a feather pin from my own collection? I have a fabulous ostrich and topaz piece,” she assures, “and some black lace gloves. Ooh, yes, dear, we will make certain all is perfect.” 

“Thank you, Lady Fwigga, but it isn’t necessawy--” 

“You are to be my daughter, of course it is,” she preens. “Besides, who shall notice anything but how splendid you look?” 

She twists on her heel and your smile dwindles. You know what is meant. What she will not state plainly. Perhaps a fine outfit might distract from your crooked consonants. You sit on the stool again and watch her go. 

Even those who are kind cannot help their thoughts. She mightn’t be cruel about it, but you can hear the disappointment in her pandering cooing. You are not the daughter she wanted just as you are not the wife her son wanted. Just as you do not want to be as you are. 

#the sticking point #loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #regency au #mcu #marvel #thor #avengers

[maddascanbe-blog]

Huh, I expected to get my drawing of Teen Zoé done for the redesigns first. Oh well... Only Kwami-swaps of the Lifeswap AU!

Meet Amaranth and Cerastes!

For no reason at all I decided to give Swap-Zoé long hair and Swap-Chloé shorter hair. Which is the exact opposite of my normal redesigns for them.

André won the custody battle for Zoé, and put his best foot forward into raising her and Chloé. Zoé is similar to how she is in cannon, late season 5. But she still learned how to mirror people, convincing them to lower their guard around her. She is a politicians daughter after all, and having people on your side is most important when convincing people to follow you. Zoé ultimately wants to do good for Paris, and is good friends with Ivan and the other members of Kitty section due to their activist mindsets.

Zoé's biggest fear is the secret of her being not André's biological daughter coming to light. He told her when she was 13 because he worried her biological father might try and regain custody in order to extort André for money. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that she is Zoé Bourgeois, the youngest of the family, Chloé's sister, and his daughter.

While she is happy André won't give her up for anything, she finds a new resentment for Audrey. And lives in fear this will harm her father's reputation, change how her relationship with her sister works, and effect hoe her friends see her should it ever come to light.

Chloé's know for years that Zoé was the result of Audrey's cheating, she knew that one of the contentions during the divorce was that Audrey was barely in Paris the entire first 2 years of Chloé's life. The math didn't math, so she pieced together the truth. This only added fuel to her burning hatred for Audrey, Zoé is her little sister.

As Amaranth, Zoé makes her voice Heard! There is no stopping her once she's set her mind to it. I based her outfit on a womens power suit, and those asymmetrically colored biker jackets.

Juleka meanwhile, grew up with Anarka. She remembered her brother from when they were little, and is a little horrified at who he's grown up to be. With Luka gone, Juleka lost her spark and her voice. She almost never talks, and doesn't stand up for anything. She just goes through the motions most days. Anarka tried to bring that light back to her daughters eyes, but every step forward has two steps back taken by Juleka's bullies. Being a quiet kid, who's mom can't keep a job, wears hand me downs, and whose dad ran off didn't leave much to be desired when it came to options of being harrassed.

Finally Anarka broke and asked Jagged to let the twins reunite. She hoped this might be a chance for Juleka to find herself again. And while Luka had changed too much from her caring and strong twin, she did find Zoé, Marinette, Adrien, and the members of Kitty Section.

Do you remember Juleka helping Zoé dye her hair in Sole Crusher? Well this time it happens in reverse. After getting comfortable with the group, she approaches Zoé about getting her hair colored. Naturally, Zoé's gotta help her girly out.

After Luka is deemed no longer suitable to be a miraculous holder, Ladybug and Chat Noir decide to give Juleka a chance. Cerastes isn't flashy, or confident. She's stealthy, sharp, and attentive.

Juleka's spent years just adapting to new situations and learning to read people for the sake of surviving, and it comes in handy when it comes to figuring out Akuma's.

Unshockingly, Luka isn't happy to see his miraculous sued by someone else, though it does take a while to get there since Cerastes doesn't even get properly seen for ages. She's very good at disappearing.

Anarka is so relieved that Juleka finally found her people, that she's even willing to stay in Paris to keep her close to her friends. She still struggles to keep a normal job, but anything to see her little girl smile again.

#Lifeswap Au #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanart #tiger miraculous #zoé lee #kwami swap #juleka couffaine

[slackerlifewhere]

random thought #4: no romance

I appreciate that the author doesn't add a romantic subplot for her characters just because they're of the opposite sex.

Like Cage and Taylor who, if this is a tv show, would've immediately been tagged as a couple even if they're just good friends. They're the best of friends who really care deeply for each other and right from the start, I never saw their bond as a romantic one. It's special since they understand each other so well because of their burdens and similar sense of humor. Like imagine how devastated Cage must've been in TBoaH. It must've been like losing a part of herself, her other half.

Yeah, I can see the idea that they can be a couple but it's so nice to see that the author just focuses on their friendship throughout the first part of TCF instead.

Then there's that time when Cale had Rosalyn and Choi Han help out Lock.

Cale clapped once, before pointing at Choi Han and Rosalyn.

“That is why we will pretend that you are the mother and father, or, if you do not like that scenario, then you shall be the older brother and older sister. You two will need to figure out how to protect him.”

- Chapter 30: You

I love the fact that Cale just gives them options to choose from so they can feel comfortable with each other. Especially since he knows they literally just met a few days ago. I also think that they just give off sibling vibes. Like Rosalyn and Choi Han never gave off anything else but friendship or family vibes and it's just so nice to see it happen.

I don't hate romance, okay? I actually love them. That is, when I look for that specific genre. If I'm not looking for it and it's there, I usually feel annoyed. Sometimes, it's not tagged but it still happens in the story.

I just find it exhausting at times when novels or tv shows push for romance when there's no need or reason for it. Especially the love at first sight trope. That one just aggravates me.

Like they can explore how close two characters are without putting a romantic context to it. In fact, the "romance" that we get in TCF are mostly from Deruth and Violan and from Deruth and Jour. It can't be said it's romance either since the focus on them is about the whole family instead. Other characters never show any sign of being in love with someone either.

And I also love the fact that Cale, the main character, doesn't have a romantic relationship throughout the whole first book. He has no time for one since he's in the middle of a war, he's focused on protecting his friends and family, and he's busy fighting some crazy bastards. He never looked at another person and thought he was in love.

If Yoo Ryeo Han ever adds romance later on, ✨I still hope she doesn't✨, it's easier to accept since I know these characters are close to each other. They've been together since the beginning. They bonded and experienced a lot of good and bad things together. Although it'll be weird to me...

[On an unrelated note: If this whole post looks weird, it's because I haven't slept yet]

#tcf #tcf cale #tcf manhwa #tcf novel #cale henituse #lcf cale #tcf cale henituse #lcf #lcf manhwa #lout of the count’s family #trash of the count's family #tcf rosalyn #rosalyn #lcf choi han #tcf choi han #choi han #tcf cage #tcf taylor #tcf taylor stan

[elleashling]

god i love night in the woods so much casey makes me SO SAD

the idea that that a person’s worth cannot be determined by any one arbitrary measurement. thinking about casey being a good cousin a good friend a good son. we don’t get much about him but we know he was important enough to gregg at least that he threatened to shoot the cultists. we know his parents cared and put up missing posters and looked for him. thinking about casey being judged by the cult based on his lack of a job or college straight out of highschool, in a town where people with years of experience are regularly unemployed (ex. danny).

thinking about the child we saw kidnapped as mae. what was the reason for that? why a child? what is a child doing as part of the equation, someone who is unable to work a job legally? how can you decide someone is a worthless human being who isn’t going to make it anywhere before they’re even old enough to drive, to get options, to live independently? how many other children have there been?

anyways i hate the cult and im in my feelings. masterpiece of a game

#nitw #night in the woods #nitw casey #nitw black goat cult #elle.txt

[howlingday]

Lancaster Dream House

Ruby: I never cared about playing with Barbie growing up. They were the perfect sacrificial lambs to my Power Rangers and their awesome powers!

Jaune: I played with Barbie when I played with my sisters. I never knew about the Barbie world, so I was just learning.

Ruby: How to play Barbie? Is it really that different?

Jaune: Well, yeah, because everything is so every-day and situational in the Barbie world. It's totally different from how you'd play with Naruto figures.

Ruby: True.

Jaune: I'm not making them fly up in the air and shouting jutsus at each other and punching each other in the face.

Ruby: "Kage Bunshin!" Heh heh heh...

Jaune: Exactly! I'd do all the voices, too, but... With Barbie, the way girls played, it was all situational and slice of life. They'd be like...

Jaune: "Here, they're having dinner right now."

Ruby: Huh... I never realized.

Jaune: "And now they're going driving in their car."

Ruby: Where would they go?

Jaune: Probably to their other friends' house. And I would do it because I didn't give a fuck! I just wanted to play with toys!

Ruby: What do they do when they get to their friends' house?

Jaune: They'd have dinner again.

Ruby: And after that?

Jaune: Probably go on a tour of the house. Y'know, just showing off their stuff like going on a tour.

Ruby: "I'm probably gonna have to do some landscaping and renovations if I wanna sell."

Jaune: Yeah, 'cause the houses are really nice, y'know, and-

Ruby: "Right now, I'm looking to lease with an option to buy." Like, they get really adult about it.

Jaune: Hahaha! "Yeah, I'm thinking, you know, it'll help build some equity and I think the ROI in ten years... It'll probably be... I wanna say, like..."

Ruby: "Ken is such an idiot! I told him to hire a lawyer before we go through escrow!"

Jaune: "I don't wanna get fucked by fees!"

Ruby: Heeheeheehee!

Jaune: HAHAHAHA!

Ruby: "Honey? It's time to stop playing with your dolls."

Jaune: "Play with the Dragon Ball figures, instead. Like your idiot sister."

Jaune: "And they'd go boom! A kaboosh! Bwaah! Bwerk! Kwah! And they crash into each other and smashes into rocks!"

Ruby: Snrk! Ken's like, "Barbie, I don't have a low sperm count! It's just, they have low motility!"

Jaune: "How is that better?!"

Ruby: "It's- I- I- There are pills I can take!"

Jaune: "Thanks for playing dollhouse with me~!"

Ruby: Yeah, and you're just sitting there in stunned silence.

Jaune: Ha ha ha ha!

Ruby: "With today's IVF advancements-!"

Jaune: "You know that doesn't work! I was just reading in GOOP the other day!"

Ruby: "It's worth a shot, at least!"

Jaune: "Is it two thousand lien worth a shot?! We have bills to pay, Ken!"

Ruby: "Maybe we wouldn't have so many bills to pay if you didn't run this god damned Malibu Dreamhouse 24/7!"

Jaune: "You always want the convertible! You want it custom-painted pink!"

Ruby: "Have you ever considered the climate implications on this dream car?!"

Jaune: "It's not even electric! You can see the gas intake right there!"

Ruby: "THAT'S BULLSHIT, KEN! ELECTRIC CARS STILL WORK OFF THE SAME GRID!"

Ruby: HAHAHA!

Jaune: HAHAHA!

Ruby: "Yeah, but they don't have emissions, Barbie! It's the best we can do, unless this society starts investing in trains and public infrastructure! That's all we can do!"

Jaune: "THEY TRIED, KEN! They tried in Mantle, and you know what? It was a FUCKING RED-TAPE BUREAUCRATIC DISASTER!"

Ruby: And your sisters are, like, "Can I go home?"

Jaune: HAHAHAHA!

Ruby: HAHAHAHA!

Ruby: "Barbie, that's why you need to run for office. You've been saying it your whole life, and you never do it."

Jaune: "...You know what, Ken? You're right."

Ruby: ...I love you.

Jaune: ...I love you.

Ruby: You can do anything.

Jaune: ...

Ruby: ...

Ruby: "Now let's have some tea!"

Jaune: Heh heh heh...

Jaune: MALIBU~! BARBIE DREAMHOUSE~!

Ruby: "Do you wanna be Ken now?"

Jaune: "Agh, well..."

Ruby: "You know, it's getting pretty late...

Jaune: "It's, like, three-thirty."

Ruby: "Can I bring Godzilla into this?"

Jaune: "Sure~! He can be who I'm running against for local office~!"

Ruby: "SKRREEEEEEEE! EEEEK-OOOONK~!"

Jaune: Now that I'd love to see.

Ruby: "Barbie, I want you to meet my new friend, Godzilla!"

Ruby: "Graaaaaagh!"

Ruby: "Oh my god! THE Godzilla?!"

Ruby: "Yeah, have you heard of him?"

Ruby: "HE'S WHO I'M RUNNING AGAINST~!"

Ruby: Boo-wooow-wow-wooow~!

Jaune: MALIBU~! BARBIE DREAMHOUSE~!

Jaune: Godzilla is running on a strong destroy the city platform.

Ruby: "I've gotta stop him~!"

Jaune: "And you know what? I say with all these politicians, I'd say they're all trying to destroy the city! AT LEAST HE'S HONEST ABOUT IT!"

Ruby: "He tells it like it is!"

Ruby: RAAAAAAAAAAAGHK!

Ruby: "Y'see?!"

Jaune: MALIBU~! BARBIE DREAMHOUSE~!

Jaune: ...What the fuck were we talking about before this?

Ruby: "Anyways, same time, 4PM?"

Jaune: "Yeah, sure..."

Ruby: "I'll bring Ghidorah..."

Jaune: "Ugh... Can't I just do homework instead?"

Ruby: "Can you bring the Technodrome with all the goop, too? I've got an idea..."

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #lancaster #game grumps

[oldshrewsburyian]

I see a lot of posts about how ASOIAF isn't obligated to be accurate to real medieval history since it's a fantasy world rather than real life.

For example, I saw a post saying this:

"Asoiaf fans: "Here's a fantasy story written by someone with an understanding of history and how the societies that often inspired fantasy worlds functioned, as well as an understanding of gender and class relations throughout western history. This work explores a lot of questions that most fantasy stories brush off, and it deconstructs a lot of the romantic (and often conservative) narratives about-"

Person who gets mad when fantasy stories aren't the same Tolkien clone over and over again: "But you have ice zombie and dragon? And it's wrong to think about plausible implications of anything. Having dragons means you can't try to write humans realistically. Also this isn't actually historically accurate because..." (Proceeds to incoherent rant that ignores how both history and fiction work.)"

I wouldn't say that GRRM has an "understanding of history" beyond surface-level, let alone an "understanding of gender and class relations throughout western history" or how the societies the cultures in the books are based on functioned.

I can name the dothraki as an example of entire diverse and fascinating cultures being reduced to one-dimensional racist caricatures, which can't be excused by being set in a fantasy world.

My questions are:

Is the way GRRM portrays race, gender relations and other aspects of his worldbuilding harmful to our understanding of past societies?

Does GRRM succesfully accomplish deconstructing "romantic and conservative narratives" common in other fantasy stories?

To what extent does GRRM understand how societies that inspired fantasy worlds functioned (feel tempted to ask about race and gender relations, but you already covered it in an earlier ask so lets leave it as optional).

Hi again. As a sort of prolegomenon, I'd like to object to the straw Tolkien fan, here. There are immortal races in Middle Earth. There's a giant spider. There are Ents. Tom Bombadil is there. It's not as though LOTR is devoid of fantasy elements; it's just written by a man who spent decades immersed in medieval literature and culture (deeply affectionate.)

Based on my experiences in the classroom and beyond? yes, 100%

I'm not sure what "other fantasy stories" are being invoked, here, so I'm not sure what GRRM is allegedly trying to deconstruct. I would argue that even and perhaps especially Lewis and Tolkien are a lot more complex and less essentially romantic/conservative than is usually acknowledged. But, uh, my short, more or less instinctive answer would be "lol no." If a narrative trying to deconstruct narrative conservatism and romanticism still focuses on about 5% of the population and tends to insist that women's sexuality matters to the narrative more than anything else about them... mm. The deconstruction, I am not seeing it. It is very clear to me that GRRM wants us to believe that this is a nasty world where people are nasty to each other by default, where power is routinely abused with impunity. And? I want to ask. So what? What's the intended gotcha, here, besides a reinforcement of bad medieval stereotypes?

Oof. Um. The thing is that based on the three novels of the ASOIAF cycle I've read so far: I have no idea. His societies don't function the way medieval and early modern societies in Eurasia did. I would also argue that his societies mostly don't, uh, function, at least on the evidence we see. But his historical cherry-picking means that I simply do not know how much he has learned, or cares to understand, about historical realities. And honestly: this is fantasy! It has no intrinsic obligation to correspond to historical reality! I'm just mad because both GRRM and his fandom seem to think it does. Moreover, this is, in a very real sense, my problem (see the answer to #1, above.)

#a medievalist does got #grrm critical #asoiaf #bad medievalism bingo #fantasy #asks and answers