#(or had it been some other debt) the debt would have more likely be repaid or at least tried to be repaid somewhat

[fragmentedblade]

The more I learn about them the more I think the heliobi are in the right

[uranusruby]

────────── · · · · ✦

││ SEONG GI-HUN

││ your ex is at the

││ game too

││

││ 2382 words

││ SFW

││ gender neutral

│✧ ✧

There was no denial, Gi-Hun has been a good boyfriend when you were in a relationship. Well, or at least not the worst. Maybe he did forget an anniversary, and maybe he also forgot your birthday two years in a row. But apart from that, and the debts he seemed to accumulate despite your help, he was very loving in his very own way.

After a moment, the two of you started to have more and more fights. Whether it's Gi-Hun or you, words were said that you might regret though you also might never admit it. But even when you wanted to excuse yourself, it was like Gi-Hun disappeared. He wasn't answering your texts, nor your calls.

After a moment of not getting any news from him, you just thought he didn't want to see you anymore. Maybe you went a bit too far during the last argument? Probably. But did he really have to act like he was dead? Not really.

Years passing by, you eventually have your own problems arriving. Debts accumulating higher and higher, it was almost inhuman. It was high enough for you to wonder how long will it take for you to repay everything, or will you even be able to repay everything one day? At this point, it was like you would die with those debts. Who knows? Maybe the people you own money to will dig up your coffin to find something expensive to be repaid. Or maybe they'll spit on your grave.

But everything wasn't so doomed when a man approached you in the subway. All you had to do to win money was playing ddakji? Easy. But you also had to play more games to get more money? Easy again. Of course, you'd join whatever this game thing was. It couldn't be that bad, right?

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Well, you definitely didn't expect to be picked up late at night, then slept in the car to then be awake in a huge room looking like a dormitory, with so many other people, and wearing a green tracksuit with a number on it. The music playing wasn't really reassuring, though for now you were safe. Maybe it was just a silly thing the organizers were doing, trying to put some suspense or competition?

But as people came in, looking like some staff of this game with their pink outfit and masks hiding their face, the other players were all pretty much lost, not understanding what was happening. And the fact that they seem to know a lot about everybody was almost scary. For now, you were making yourself discreet, staying on your bed and just listening and observing what was happening.

After signing a contract containing just four rules that you quickly read, the first game was soon arriving. Everybody following the guards, you were asked to take a picture of yourself before continuing. But, a part of you being a bit stressed (maybe because of the unknown or because of how it felt like being a prisoner), you only managed to get an awkward smile in the picture. Seeing this rapper being so enthusiastic when doing the picture was almost scary as well.

Climbing many stairs to finally reach the doors, the players discovered that the game was just a simple Red Light, Green Light game. It made you silently chuckle to see that, as you thought of how silly it was for you to stress about the games you had to win. Just like with the man in the subway, it was a silly childish game, nothing impossible to win.

As some people were chattering together while waiting, with you being in a corner just like before in the dormitory, everybody got silent as the voice of a man was heard. Your eyebrows knitted together as you were pretty sure to recognise this voice. Just to be sure you weren't crazy, you walked at the front of the line of people to check who was screaming about how this game was actually lethal. Your eyes widen as you saw that it was really him. Gi-Hun. Your whole body had an itchy feeling, as if you just wanted to run to him to get some explanation.

But as much as people weren't taking him seriously, you knew Gi-Hun very well, though he definitely seemed changed since your unofficial break up. If he was saying such a thing, then it probably was true. Gi-Hun wasn't the type to make some conspiracy theories. Of course, it was hard to believe that some people would kill players if they were moving. But yet, you believed him. Maybe you still had blind trust in him after all, even after all this time.

As the game started, Gi-Hun standing in front of everybody to give instructions, your legs naturally moved. Your eyes were locked on Gi-Hun, not hesitating in listening to his advice about not moving and keeping your calm.

Things were going well, as scary as it was (even more with Gi-Hun screaming to stop, as it was always surprising), everything changed when one player got shot. One panicking leading to another and more panicking, the loud gunshots were getting people even more scared and clearly ignoring every word Gi-Hun was saying.

Your heart was racing in your chest, and your instinct was clearly telling you to run away for your survival. But your brain was also telling you to just follow Gi-Hun's instructions. Your legs felt frozen, anyway. It was hard to go back to running now that you witnessed what happened if you were doing a movement.

Crossing the whole way felt like an impossible task, as if it was actually never ending. People kept running, and some others died. Your eyes were always switching from the finish line to Gi-Hun, the feeling of seeing him somehow reassuring. At this point, Gi-Hun was your anchor, more than he's ever been.

When your feet finally reached the finish line, it was a big relief. You didn't move at first, still afraid of the idea of getting shot even though you were in the safe zone now. It took you a moment to realise you would be safe (or at least for now), and when you did, your legs felt wobbly and you could just fall to the ground, sitting on your butt.

Seeing Gi-Hun going back to it to save a hurt man made your heart stop beating for a second, your eyes widening. Someone went to help him, but it wasn't more reassuring. It felt like the world around you stopped spinning, each second feeling like an eternity. But when he eventually managed to come back to the finish line with the man, the man was shot dead anyway. Everybody was surprised, including Gi-Hun and the player who helped him.

But even despite this, nobody really had time to realise and understand what just happened. The roof closing was grabbing every players' attention. Though it was unbelievable, you didn't look up. All you could see was Gi-Hun. And of course, you staring at him eventually got him to notice you as well. Your eyes locked for a few seconds, the shock visible in his gaze just for a short moment. And you could have sworn he said your name, or maybe just mouthed it.

As everybody was walking back to the dormitory, there was silence. Maybe it would be ironic to call people dead silent. You were looking down while you were walking the stairs, until you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw Gi-Hun, accompanied by his long life friend Jung-Bae. Usually, you would have greeted him happily, but at this point you were still a bit disoriented.

"What are you doing here?" was the first thing Gi-Hun told you.

"The same as everybody, I guess," you answered while glancing at him.

"Please, stay close to me," he eventually said with a serious expression on his face, though looking worried.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

Things were pretty much going downhill as time was passing by in this game. No matter how hard Gi-Hun was trying to convince people to quit this game, most of the other players didn't care about it. Only money mattered to them, they didn't care about the survival of the others, let alone because of how deaths were how money was increasing.

And with every new game played, Gi-Hun was being careful with you. Of course, he was doing his best to help everybody, but he had just a little extra protection on you. Gi-Hun didn't care about how awkward you two could be together, maybe because the two of you knew you missed each other very badly. But once again, none of you would admit it despite the danger hanging around.

With people deciding in majority to stay in the game, you soon reached the third game. Staying in group, you slowly entered a room where there was a carousel. With Gi-Hun, Jung-Bae, Jun-Hee, Young-Il and Dae-Ho deciding a plan, you were looking around, observing people and their behaviour, maybe expecting to catch their plans and be sure you wouldn't be thrown to the wolves.

The decided plan was quite easy: trying to stay together as much as possible. Then, if needed, it would be improvising and trying to get other people to be the right number to enter the room and so be safe. Not so much reassuring, but maybe adrenaline would help.

After gathering a little courage while motivating each other in your group, Gi-Hun discreetly grabbed your wrist with his fingertips touching the palm of your hand, guiding you towards the carousel where everybody was standing. He gave you a little glance, nodding slightly before letting go of your hand. You had to trust him, just like you always did.

The music started playing, the carousel slowly turning in round. Your heart started to race in your chest, just like in every game when you were realising that once again, your life would be in danger.

Each round was going, with a new number being announced when the carousel was suddenly stopping as well as the music. And at every round, it was always pure panic and chaos going around, people pushing each other in hope to find enough people.

If at first things were going in some kind of way smoothly, things escalated step by step, and soon the number two was announced. It was just like Young-Il previously guess when Jung-Bae asked. When the music and the carousel stopped, your eyes went on Gi-Hun as if asking if you should go together. But the mess of the game and the lack of rooms didn't give much time to think and decide. Before you could say or even do something, you felt yourself being pulled away. A little glance was enough for you to see Young-Il being the one pulling you away. Your eyes went back on Gi-Hun as you watched him leaving with Dae-Ho.

It was even messier than before, everybody desperate to have a room to survive this round. Your eyes were now on the room Young-Il and you were running too, your breath feeling like fire in your lungs and your heart furiously racing in your chest.

But the competition this game was creating made things hard, even harder than before during this round, made things difficult. People pulled you back to arrive first, your feet slipped because of the blood; nothing seemed to go on your side. You saw Young-Il looking at you for a second as you were getting back on your feet. The moment he saw you were okay, he just went back to running to a free room to be sure you would both get one.

When he pulled a man out, you two went into the room only to see another man already being here. For a short amount of time, there was tension. Someone had to leave, and that man didn't seem to want to leave.

"Get out," Young-Il firmly said, obviously not open for a discussion.

Feeling the door being opened by the previous man, you leaned your whole body against to stop the man from entering the room. It was hard to hear that poor man, maybe harder to helplessly watch Young-Il killing one barehanded. Staring at each other in silence, you weren't moving anymore. It was horrifying to see Young-Il do such a thing, yet a tiny part of you was grateful for ensuring your survival.

No matter the conflict in you, your eyes immediately went to the little opening of the door when hearing the end of the game announced. With every gunshot of the guards, your eyes were quickly trying to spot if any of the victims were Gi-Hun. But the small size of the slot wasn't helping, let alone with the fear of Gi-Hun not making it.

When the door was unlocked, you immediately opened the door, practically throwing yourself out of the room. You looked everywhere, until you finally saw Gi-Hun who also seemed to look for you. It felt like your shoulders lost a heavy weight when you realised he was okay. You walked towards him, while he practically ran. You were almost certain that it never felt that good to have Gi-Hun's arms around you.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he pulled away, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your face.

"Yes… Young-Il… helped me," you answered, nodding your head. There was unspoken words as you looked at Young-Il.

"Thank you," Gi-Hun said with a look at Young-Il, who just shrugged it off as if it was no big deal.

Gi-Hun then gave his attention back to you, now both his hands on your face. He didn't say anything, just letting his thumbs caressing your cheeks. Your lips then connected together in a natural way, just like you used to do years before. The kiss was soft, yet showing how worried he was for you, and maybe how much he missed you.

When he pulled away, you just once again looked at each other again. There weren't any words, just looks of love that used to be given. His hands left your cheeks, for one to grab your hand and leave the room with the other players.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ✩ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

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[lizzy06]

Osamu Miya x Reader Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Inarizaki Fic Rec Masterlist

A Debt Repaid ✨✨by matchumu (oneshot, sibling love)"Just keep the money." Atsumu repeats. "Don't think of it as a charity. Just think of it as a debt repaid."It was Miya Atsumu who bought the first Onigiri Miya store. [COMPLETED]

a world without you by my side ✨by farozaan (oneshot, happy ending, waking up in alternate au, time travel) He wanted just a single day without his brother all around him. That would be paradise. Miya Osamu makes a wish and regrets it. [COMPLETED]

tick. thump. pt 1  Pt 2 , Pt 3✨✨ by @seokiloquy (soulmate au)[COMPLETED]

long shots ✨✨by vogonpoetry(oneshot, fluff, grad student! reader, TA! osamu )miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him

Markings✨  by @storyoffracturedstars (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) There are multiple trypes of soulmate marks... timer, tattoo, compass, you could hear whatever tour soulmate hears from tie to time.[COMPLETED]

Finding Your Soulmate by @leafsgarbage(oneshot, soulmate au, fluff) [COMPLETED]

All I Want ✨✨by Declaraso(friends to lovers, fluff, secret crush)The twins have been your friends for as long as you can remember. They've always been there and you reckon they'll remain with you 'till all of you are old and gray. Miya, Osamu wants nothing more, as long as he's the one holding your hand.[COMPLETED]

Switch Up✨ by mochi_puff (strangers to lovers, fluff)Miya mama pesters Atsumu to find a girlfriend and sets him up on blind dates. One day, he decides to rope his twin brother in to switch with him in disguise. What's the worst that could happen?[COMPLETED]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits✨✨ by secretpeachtea (fluff, humor)Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job.You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players. [COMPLETED]

fair chance by seliene (friends to lovers, humor, fluff, angst with happy ending)sure, he isn’t a star athlete, like his brother, but you (still) think he’d be the man of your dreams—do all that he can, be all he can be.[COMPLETED]

Lapse in Judgement ✨by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst)A car crash has taken Osamu’s brother away, the boy you liked so dearly. Osamu was dull to the pain, his crush on you blinding him from reality. But when he dyes his hair in hopes that he could make you feel the same, he realizes he may have gone too far.[COMPLETED]

Comfort Food by bloomgloomy (friendship/ love, fluff, humor)When you finally meet Atsumu's twin, Osamu, everyone but you sees the sparks fly. That's when the Black Jackals decide to give their blind manager the push you need.[COMPLETED]

A Good Dream/without theme ✨✨by @yourstarvic (oneshot, fluff, humor)Osamu had a good dream but with some repercussion.[COMPLETED]

long shots by vogonpoetry(oneshot, fluff, slowburn)miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.[COMPLETED]

Love at First Bite by secondhand_trash (domestic fluff, eventual romance)Your story with Miya Osamu started with tears, rain, and really good food.[COMPLETED]

Put my lips to something by tsumoo (starngers to lovers, blind date, fluff)The thought that you could be another person for Osamu to take care of—it satiates the ache. Loneliness is just another form of hunger. You realise that now.[COMPLETED]

around by satendou(heavy angst, post breakup, mentions of cheating) how you and osamu find your way back to each other.[COMPLETED]

Fishes of the Same Pond ✨by admiringlove (fake dating, fluff, humor, angst with happy ending) a book. a boy. a shelf at the empty side of the library. and a sweet little spin of fate with romance and some pining. what could go wrong?[COMPLETED]

How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq(oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Loyalty, Honour, A Willing Heart

I absolutely adore a good character deep-dive. And ADM had me in the mood to take a microscope to Thorin.

And Thorin makes such a good prospect...

The Hobbit Trilogy has four main scenes that I think speak absolute VOLUMES about who Thorin is as a person. There are more little parts, but these are the big ones that just punch me right in the feels.

Bag End

Bag End is where we see Thorin’s first major character reveal when he was talking with Balin about who they have gathered to go on the quest with them. 

He's speaking kindly about who joined him (mainly because one of those warriors is Dwalin, perhaps...) and Balin is shooting him down (his brother being one of the "old warriors"), and we eventually get into the dialogue that tells us SO MUCH.

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

Given that all that happened with the fall of Erebor, Thorin is not contractually obligated to do all that he has done for his people. Honestly, that weight rests more on Thror rather than him. But he still bears that burden. He has already done so much for his people, and repaid that nonexistent debt ten times over. His is in NO WAY obligated by ANYBODY to go reclaim Erebor.

But, Thorin has quite literally been raised with that as his entire purpose.  As the next line of dialogue goes... "From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland."

That burden rests so heavily on his shoulders.  It’s a given for him.  He has never lived a life or had any circumstance before Erebor. It’s always been his duty in some sense.  He’s always been obligated, because he was always regarded as Erebor’s crown prince before it fell.  (I've never seen anything that would point towards Thrain taking over after Thror, especially given those longer life-spans the dwarves have, so it would potentially make sense for the line of succession to skip every other generation).

He also always had to have the right behaviors and etiquette that becomes a Crown Prince™. That's part of what makes him the grumpy garden gnome that he is. His entire childhood was probably spent preparing him for the role he was going to take over one day.

After Erebor falls, Thorin is in exile, so his grandfather and his father are plotting to reclaim Erebor in some way down the road, (as Thorin's dialogue points out), so he’s involved with that because he’s the crown prince. 

And then they have the Battle of Azanulbizar.  Which was an absolute tragedy. 

Before Azanulbizar, Durin's Line was still well intact. It was not decimated by any means. If absolutely necessary, Thror or Thrain could potentially produce another heir just to secure the line of succession.

After Azanulbizar, Thorin is the last remaining male of his specific line.  I say that because Fili and Kili--while also technically descended from the line of Durin--are not truly from Durin's Line like Thorin is. They are maternally linked through Dis. If Thorin does not have any sons to carry on the 'name', then Durin's line would essentially become "daughtered out" since Dis would have produced the only direct descendants. If they had a last name, their line would die out with Thorin since he would be the last to be carrying it.

So, as much as I adore the brothers, they are only viewed as a close second. Not the best as they technically are not of Durin's Line.

So Thorin is the last remaining son of Durin, and all the responsibility falls on his shoulders.  Essentially, what his father and grandfather wanted to do, that is now on him, (again, the dialogue). And he no longer has Frerin there either. Both to help him with that responsibility, and to potentially produce an heir.

Another point that plays off of that is what would happen after Erebor if Thorin survived BOTFA. Given that his whole personality seems to be "must reclaim Erebor", it got me thinking about what would happen if he did get to rule Erebor.

I don't think this is necessarily something I've seen really explored in a fic. Most tend to place him as adjusting well into the leadership role--which, I do think he would do quite well because he has been living his whole life for this moment--but I definitely think he would go through some sort of 'mid-life crisis'.

When he has reached the goal that he's been striving towards for basically his entire life, where does he go from there?

Does he know how to be anything other than the savior of his people? That seems to be the role he has had for the majority of his life.

Now, circling back around to Bag End, there's still one more bit of dialogue. One that I LOVE.

"There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

Balin's earlier dialogue hits the nail on the head. Balin is telling Thorin that he does not have to reclaim Erebor. He has built them a life in the Blue Mountains that they are thriving on (now). He has placed his people before himself consistently. That reclaiming Erebor isn't just another part of his duties towards his people that he is required to perform. That he has a CHOICE about this.

And Thorin's response to that implies that he's never had a choice. Both from his grandfather/father, (who groomed him for the role of King), and from himself. That he is 'destined' so-to-speak to accomplish it. That his whole life has been leading to this moment right here.

That's my breakdown of Bag End and that scene there. And....it's long enough that I'll probably break these up.

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

Yan Wushi and Shen Qiao Comparison

The author of Thousand Autumns, Meng Xi Shi, wrote in the Foreword, "The two leads have extreme personalities that are diametric opposites: one finds joy in helping people, while the other resolutely believes that human nature is evil. But because both are them are incredibly strong, they cannot convince each other. And so when they meet, they’re destined to clash in a blaze of intense sparks." While I reread the series, I collected a few of my favorite quotes that described Yan Wushi and Shen Qiao's personalities and world views so I could compare them side by side. It is amazing how two characters who are polar opposites can complement each other so well.

Shen Qiao: “When it comes to worth, every heart weighs it differently. Grudges have a source, and debts a debtor, but involving innocent people should never be commended. When you don’t save the people you could have, when you don’t take action when you could have, a shadow lodges in your heart forever. Whether other people know about it—whether they’ll feel grateful—that’s their business.”

Yan Wushi: As always, whenever Yan Wushi opened his mouth, sarcastic comments streamed out. Hearing them was enough to make any listener grit their teeth. But with the way he stood upon the cliff face, hands clasped behind his back and robes dancing, the assembled spectators simply had to look up to him as well. His achievements and martial arts, his incredible strength—many understood that they’d never reach such heights. It was human nature to admire those of great strength, and if anyone claimed they felt no trace of admiration for the egotistical Huanyue Sect Leader—who had the power to warrant such an ego—they’d be lying.

Shen Qiao: Even when he’d fallen into the mire, when he was smeared with dust and grime and was at anyone’s mercy, still he struggled back to his feet and walked onward, step by step. His comrades’ betrayal, his kindness being repaid with enmity—it was as if he’d taken none of it to heart.

Yan Wushi: But Yan Wushi was the kind of man who reserved even his egotism and conceit for those on his level. The mediocre remainder weren’t worth his attention, so he couldn’t care less what they said or thought.

Shen Qiao: “During our time in this world, everyone has to make their own choices. Some will choose to preserve their lives at all costs, and some will choose to give up their lives for their reputation or to demonstrate their innocence. In all cases, there is nothing to criticize. Only during the darkest hour will one’s true self emerge.

Yan Wushi: This Huanyue Sect Leader’s character was just as the rumors painted him: mercurial and unpredictable. Even after they’d spent so much time together, Shen Qiao still dared not say that he completely understood him.

Shen Qiao: “There are many people in this world. Some of them good, some of them bad. But even more can’t be categorized as simply ‘good’ or ‘bad.’ Their thoughts may be different from yours, and the paths they choose may also be different... You mustn’t reject others just because they’re different from you. As a person, you have to be like an ocean that embraces the hundred rivers: tolerant and broad-minded. The same holds true as a martial artist. The narrow-minded are limited in what they can achieve. Even if they reach the summit, they won’t be able to stand there for long.”

Yan Wushi: In Yan Wushi’s eyes, the incompetent would never be worthy of his attention. Counting decades into the past, there’d been one exception in Shen Qiao, but there was only one Shen Qiao. No one else deserved any extra concern from him, even if they were his disciples. He’d already taught his disciples his skills; if they needed his protection in everything, why bother wandering the jianghu? They might as well bash open their heads and die.

Shen Qiao: He was happy to treat others with kindness, and he didn’t care how much he gained or lost in exchange. But when other people returned him a similar kindness, to the point that they were willing to die for him, it was far harder for him than simply receiving nothing in the first place.

Yan Wushi: Shen Qiao shook his head. “He’s not cruelhearted—he never had a heart in the first place. He treats everyone in the world with the same callousness, and he’ll never be particularly gentle toward anyone...”

Shen Qiao: In this world there are many, many situations where giving someone something doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll receive anything in return. When you choose to give, you must remember this, or else the only one hurt will be you.”

Yan Wushi: In Shen Qiao's opinion, Yan Wushi had no reason to bring trouble down on himself like this. But ultimately, Yan Wushi was Yan Wushi. If he moved according to other people’s expectations, he wouldn’t be Yan Wushi anymore.

Shen Qiao: “From the great Dao springs forth many thousand paths,” said Shen Qiao. “Some are fast, some slow, but none are better than any other.”

Yan Wushi: He adored Shen Qiao to a ridiculous degree, but this kind of adoration was usually expressed through teasing and bullying.

And what they think of each other by the end of the series:

Just as Shen Qiao was thinking this, he heard Yan Wushi say, “A-Qiao, do you know?” “Mm?” Shen Qiao returned to himself. “In the past, I classified all humans into two categories.” “Mm,” said Shen Qiao. He knew this. “They were either your opponents or insects.” Opponents were those who could stand on equal footing with him. Insects were the ones not worth his attention. In the past, Shen Qiao had been an insect in his eyes. “But now,” Yan Wushi said leisurely, “I’ve changed my way of thinking. A-Qiao, you’re different from most people in the world. You have compassion for all mankind carved into your bones, to the point that you’re willing to give yourself up for others without asking for anything in return. In the past, I thought you were the same as everyone else: you might start out good and innocent, but the world is fickle, and in the end it’d teach you to change as well. But you went completely beyond my expectations. Human affairs are like a stream, yet you are a rock. No matter how the stream flows, you will never shift.” Shen Qiao gave a brief laugh. “It’s rare to hear Sect Leader Yan praise me. How remarkable! This humble Daoist is greatly honored.” “Do you still hold a grudge against me in your heart?” Shen Qiao shook his head. “No, it’s the exact opposite. I admire you greatly. There aren’t many people in this world who can live so willfully, but Sect Leader Yan is one of them. Before I left the mountain, the only world and jianghu I knew was the tiny little space that my late master had told me about. I’d never seen it with my own eyes. If not for Yan Wushi’s instruction, I wouldn’t be alive listening to you say these things now.”

[h4arts]

hi! saw you are open for asks 🦢 i have this idea with kaz and reader, where kaz is like ready for the next step to make more bold touches, but reader still acts super cautious with him. maybe their touchy with others but strain themselves with kaz for his comfort and it makes him sad mad( so he makes the first move and reader is kinda shoked but ofc happy

hope it’s fine 🤍

red lily, kaz brekker -synopsis: after a job across kerch, you question if kaz wants you to stay in ketterdam, and he takes the opportunity he'd been waiting for. -warnings: maybe ooc kaz (i'm, still trying to figure out how to write him best)

Kaz Brekker, dirtyhands, bastard of the barrel, he had a sharp eye for details, for things that could be worth something or could be useful later on. That's how he raised himself to be in the barrel, be above anyone else before they can be above you. It was quite literally kill or be killed, he quickly realized that after Jordie's death.

He knew from there looking forward that he had to seek revenge, if not for himself, for Jordie, to silence his brother's voice ringing in the back of his head. When he rose up the ranks of the Barrel, closer to getting exactly where he needed to be, he had gained a name for himself (or many names) that gave him a new purpose of life. A kind of rebirth from Kaz Rietveld to Kaz Brekker. From the darkness rose a nightmare.

His gloves, really, were his only weakness, the only hint he had outwardly towards the past where he was forged. He'd heard the rumors, even fed into some to keep people's minds grasping for an answer they would never find. It hadn't at first occurred to him really that someone might reach past the gloves, the barriers he had set to keep out the water threatening to reach back in and drown him.

You had come along sometime before Inej by pure chance. You knew of Kaz Brekker, and needed his help. Something small that would hold a price you could repay easily, yet was still worth enough to get him to agree. He hadn't expected you to stick around even after the debt was repaid. He told himself it was because of Inej, who had recently been brought out of the Menagerie. He saw how compatibly you worked with one another on simpler jobs that didn't require a mess. Not a big one at least. He certainly hadn't expected your company to evolve over the next couple years.

Now, he sat at a table below the deck of the ship they were on, going back to Ketterdam from a job across Kerch. He busied himself with refolding maps and blueprints that were no longer needed, but he couldn't help from hearing the laughter coming from right above him on the deck. Your laughter, mixed with Jesper's. He shouldn't have been surprised, it was like you and Jesper shared the same brain when it came to making jokes. But that knowledge didn't seem to matter, because he knew exactly why you were laughing from the thud that echoed right after, cuing Nina and Wylan's laughter as well. You and Jesper were probably a mess of limbs on the deck right now, wrestling over something stupid and impractical like usual as Matthias tried to pry you apart despite his amusement that he tried to hide.

Kaz felt something stir inside him, a feeling he had become familiar with when he saw how tightly Nina would hug you or how easy it felt for Jesper to wrap an arm around your shoulder when walking. It made him wish he could get over whatever he felt against touch when he saw Wylan instinctively reach for your hand whenever something excited either of you, he wished he could take Matthias' place with a comforting hand on your shoulder after a bad job or take Inej's place smoothing bandages over wounds after a fight.

Kaz recalled the first time he had felt your touch without any fabric between his skin and yours. It was and unpleasant trip in his mind, to say the least, but it had to be done. You were the only one around that didn't feel like letting Kaz Brekker die that day. It was a light press of your knuckles as you tied off a stitch, but it was long enough to signal the panic waiting to be released. You had quickly stepped away, not wanting to make it worse, but you hadn't seen it coming, and you didn't know how to stop it.

The second time was close, he had held out his hand for the jewel you had collected on a job, his gloves resting on the desk beside his elbow. You had dropped it in his hand right before you touched him, but he still felt the air of your retracting hand, and the small bit of warmth that had radiated from it in the second it hovered over his own.

Since then, he had allowed you to help him with it. He told you it was only to avoid an encounter where his one weakness might be a compromised vulnerability. He couldn't risk that happening even though no one knew besides his crows. It started small, you would rest your hand on his desk, palm facing up. The rest was at his pace. It was slow process, progress did not come quickly or easily, as the mind is a powerful thing, and trauma's claws are sharp and hurt to pry from the victim.

You gave him the space and time he needed. On a day he could manage linking your pinkies, he wouldn't take his gloves off for another day. On days that weren't so much, he could try again the next day. Progress comes slow for anything, you should know. He did know, not only from experience, but your reminders repeating over and over in his head.

Inej's hand appeared over the map Kaz had been staring at, slowly pulling it towards where she was seated across from him. "You're missing the party up there." She chose not to comment on his blank stare before she had made her presence known.

"You could hardly call that a party. Maybe a group of maddening school children." Kaz picked up the next map unfazed, folding it according to all the previous creases it bent at. Inej allowed a near invisible smirk to pull at the corner of her lips as she folded her own map.

"Maybe you could excuse the heartrender in that group that saved us all from being blown to pieces." This time, Kaz looked up at the girl across from him, expression completely unreadable besides the annoyance clouding in his eyes that only a select few knew where to find. "The sunlight may do you good anyways. Maybe even someone else up there would find extra company pleasant." But Kaz didn't make a move to get up, and Inej didn't push it.

The two sat in silence, save for the loud conversations still coming from above deck. The maps had been folded and stored away until they neared the docks, and Inej watched as Kaz's fingers twitched slightly beneath his gloves. Your voice echoed over the others again, something about the flowers of Ketterdam. A joke, Inej knew. There were no flowers, at least none easy to come by.

But Kaz knew there was another meaning to your joke, he had heard it before during a job, back before even Jesper or Inej were around. He had asked you about it, and your response was simple, it's easy to make jokes of things that will never be.

Kaz couldn't understand why he remembered it, why such a small detail held such a big memory, like it was a secret kept between the two of you. Inej had left, and you had taken her place. Kaz didn't seem moved enough to greet you as you sunk into the chair.

"The flowers of Ketterdam?" You duck your head at his question, instead staring at the rough skin around your nails.

"Yes. I might grow some lilies at the club. Red ones." Kaz shook his head at that.

"There will be no flowers at my club." Kaz reaches for his cane that had been propped on the edge of the table, holding the crows head between his gloved hands.

"Is Nina not a flower then?" You grinned, looking up from your hands.

"Nina is far from a flower."

"That's not what Matthias thinks."

"I don't care what Matthias thinks about her. Though I'm unfortunately reminded of it every time he looks at her."

"What, the way you look at a new stack of kruge?"

"Have you simply come to pester me or do you actually need something?" Your eyes go back to your hands, shrugging your shoulders that were still visibly tense from when you had gotten on the ship when you had first left Ketterdam.

"Just letting you know we'll be back in a few minutes." The room fell into silence then, besides the light tapping of your heel against the wood beneath you as your leg bounced.

"The job went fine, why are you still acting like it's your first one?"

"Maybe because we're constantly putting our lives on the line for more money even though we just steal whatever we want on the daily." Your eyes were still trained on your hands, twisting your rings back and forth around your fingers.

Kaz knew you were right, but he couldn't just stop. That was how he made his income, that was how he got to where he was, and ultimately, it would be how he destroyed Pekka Rollins. He didn't want to risk the lives of his crows, but honestly, they were probably safer where they were now than wandering the wrong side of Ketterdam homeless, stuck under contract with the Menagerie, or thrown in a prison cell awaiting death.

"This can't be how we live the rest of our lives." You finally look up from the glimmering rings adorning your fingers, meeting Kaz's gaze which had also been fixated on your rings.

"It won't. Think of it like a phase in a game, long but never lasts." He stands from the chair across the table from you and instead sits in the one next to you. "You'll all leave this place eventually, and with that, you'll be leaving this life behind."

"What about you?"

"I'll always be here." A frown settles across your face, it sounded horrible that he'd always be stuck in Ketterdam, even though you knew he could go anywhere if he wanted.

"Then I will too." You disliked Ketterdam just as much as your friends above deck, but also like them, like Kaz, a part of it felt like home now. The Slat, the Crow Club, where you'd spent days and nights talking and laughing when jobs weren't lurking around your schedules. You weren't alone like you were when you first arrived in Ketterdam. You'd all found a small, broken family in each other.

"You shouldn't." You couldn't have expected those to be the words that left Kaz's lips. Something else was happening, gears were turning in a multitude of directions in his mind. In fact, you were so focused on that, you had missed how carefully he'd slid off his gloves.

"Do you not want me to stay?" Your voice had dropped to a whisper, scared of the answer. You weren't sure what Kaz wanted exactly, no one ever was. But rather than a verbal response, you were shocked at the sudden feel of a hand taking yours. Looking down was when you noticed Kaz's gloves resting on his knee, the skin of his hand uncovered and touching yours.

He didn't say anything, about holding your hand or a response to your question, but the grip of his hand on yours was reassuring to you, and it answered any possible question you could think to ask in the moment. He did want you to stay with him, but he wanted better for you. Not the dim streets of a city that would kill before it would love.

Kaz had found that he surprised himself with how easy it felt to have your hand in his once he had pushed the waters down and the resurfacing memories back. Carefully, he ran his thumb down your palm, resting at the pulse point of your wrist. You watched him with gentle eyes as he put the slightest amount of pressure there, feeling your pulse beat lightly against his thumb. He left it there for a moment, until it began to feel like too much. You noticed and lightly pulled your hand away before the panic could set in.

"You don't have to stay." He mutters, pulling his worn gloves back on, refusing to meet your light gaze.

"I want to." Your response calls his eyes back to your own, and he saw the feeling you held in them. "I'll use my flower money to buy you some new gloves. Or maybe a hat."

Kaz knew he still had a long road of work ahead of him if he wanted to touch you properly, without gloves or multiple layers of fabric between you. But he knew you were patient with him, and he trusted you would stick to your word of staying.

"We're home children, you owe me waffles!" Nina's voice calls down the stairs, followed by the echo of footsteps moving off the deck. Giving Kaz a small smile, you stand from your chair and head towards the stairs that would lead above deck.

"I'll wait for you up there."

───☆───

The next morning, you woke up a bit later than normal. Though you'd had a reason too, the boat ride was not the most relaxing thing after the job you'd all performed the previous two days. Stretching out your arms, something brightly colored caught your eye from the night stand beside your pillow. With a smile, you reach for the object resting neatly in the center. The floral scent pleasantly stung your senses as you observed the bouquet of red lilies that had been placed on your nightstand, along with a note that instructed your presence at seven bells at the corner restaurant the crows had been meeting at for dinner lately.

[therandompagesblog]

Her Soul for His Soul Chapter 2 🌜Seungmin🌛

Trigger Warnings: violence, torture, sexual references, death, slavery, disturbing imagery

For a thousand years, I have existed. Over a thousand years I have been a slave to Lucifer and the council. Collecting and stealing souls. Being summoned by pathetic humans to do their dirty work for the last five hundred years, all because I killed someone named Jisung's lover. Who was a pathetic mortal being. This ended up with the council sending me to do shit for humans. Until today, I was finally freed from the Kim family. The council have freed me from my debts as I have repaid them and Jisung over by a hundred. I learned to never make the same mistake again. I should have researched that demon before committing the act. It was because I thought it was funny to execute a human in the biblical sense which everyone but Jisung found funny. It was funny to see people praying for a God that didn't exist. Except he did but there was more than one God. There was a group of them, but their politics was complicated.      God's were not perfect like the mortals thought. Some were graciously good and sickeningly pure. Others were similar and yearned for pure virgin mortals as a sacrifice. Some gifted witches practised for years and years to become a God and then ascended into the higher realms to be a God. One thing gods have in common is they all agree not to involve themselves in each other's business. In a sense, you could say Lucifer was the God of the Hell realms. The highest-ranked angel with all the power was banished to a realm a God created for him, so Lucifer created six more realms that Demons and Reapers could cross over.      Us Demons are like angels. We have wings but horns instead of a fucking pathetic golden ring around our heads that controls us. We worship freedom. We hunt souls to help the reapers to send them to the underworld. We have so much power and money that any human would be lucky to have. When we collect souls their money becomes our spiritual money. If we ever returned to the mortal world we could transfer it to their coinage or any coinage in their world. Here it was the same. If we went to the market in Hell realm four we could buy, bargain and haggle. It sucks if your are a poorer monster or a novice demon because it requires skill and experience.

I ENTERED THE BAR TO GREET MY FRIEND. He was so excited. He hasn't seen me in over two hundred years. That was the thing about being a Demon. Time goes by far too quickly. The concept of time for us was very different. We had forever. If something didn't kill us or we weren't executed we'd survive a very very long time.      "Long time no see hyung." Jeongin called out, his blue eyes glowing in the dark as he found a table for us. The word 'hyung' was a word for older brother. It was a word from our dead language that only demons and repears could speak but it was pretty much a dead language now. No one but the older demons spoke it. "You did see me, Jeongin. Two hundred years ago." I said, my tail pulling out the chair for me to sit on. Jeongin was a young Demon. About three hundred years younger than me but he was an extravagant soul hunter. He was half Reaper half Demon. His cousin was the Grim Reaper. No one knew the Grim's real name and no one messed with him. He was the guard to all the souls and the keeper of the underworld. He rarely stepped foot in this world.      "Did you get your book back in the end?" Jeongin asked. "Fuck. No. It's still in that mortal realm. I couldn't fucking find it." I growled. Slamming my fist upon the table. That book was the key to summoning me. The book bound me to its owner.  They became my keeper. The book was part of my soul. I had to hand that book over to the Kim bloodline so they could summon me, but it was torture. Some Kims in the past would build a tunnel for me to live in. Some would shackle me and torture me. It was worse than hell. "We're going to have to go back to the mortal realm and get it," Jeongin said worriedly. He knew how much pain and effort I went through in the mortal realm. I had to get it back. "It's Halloween soon. What if some idiot tries to get hold of it? Does the Kims still have it?" Jeongin asked. "No. When Lucifer granted me protection for a week I questioned them. One of their idiot grandchildren lost it and sold it to a charity shop." I growled. Jeongin laughed but abruptly stopped as he realised I would be dragging him into this.       Jeongin hated the mortal realm. He almost never hunted souls in the mortal realm. He got frightened off by some witches and then bullied by other Demons for it. Jeongin slayed creatures in the hell realm for souls. He was more comfortable here and so was I. I loved it here. I yearned for the heat. The comfort. The freedom. Hell was a never-ending place. The humans may even refer to it as being like space. There was no ending for us in this realm. Lucifer expanded it every century so no one could reach the end. There was even a rumour he would expand a ninth realm because of the amount of criminals passing through to us because the Gods changed the laws. Even a one-time a liar who died the next day was banished to this realm. It was crazy. The Gods were mean. They weren't as merciful as Lucifer. He was forgiving. He was all-knowing. He was nobel. But, piss him off, he would hurt you.      "So we going then," Jeongin asked nervously. I smirked at him, flashing my gold eyes. I was so ready to fuck with humans one last time. I just pray to Lucifer an idiot doesn't find my book. "Yeah let's fuck and find out for a few days since Halloween is coming up."

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @linocz @hyunmikim @eastjonowhere @skzdreamer13 @mavischerry @kiaralynn3838 @jellyleggz @mihoonz @hanniesbubuwife

[flatassthrowaway]

Passionately and Deeply

I hope everyone's been doing okay in light of what's been happening. I have another chapter for you all, so I hope you enjoy. As usual, let me know what you think. This one is a little angsty, but mostly fluff. 18+ for suggestive content, MDNI.

~Masterlist~

~Chapter Seven~

Ford really is amazing.

He woke me up with a kiss, and breakfast in bed, along with a warm washcloth to wash my nether regions. He told me that he should have offered it to me our first night together, but I accepted nonetheless.

We’ve been doing this since the 9th, so… for four days straight.

We really wanted each other.

I also found that the towels all over the couch were from another surprise he was planning. He wanted to take me on nearly each object in the room. From the couch to the table to the dresser to the space in between the sinks in the bathroom… goodness.

I feel like he was almost making up for lost time. I didn’t mind though… I wanted it too.

As we ate in bed, completely nude and in each other’s company… I decided that I would tell him why I acted so weird when I first met him at the diner.

“This is gonna sound weird,” I told him.

Ford ate some french toast before swallowing it. “Try me,” he said. “I study weirdness, sweetheart.”

I chuckled. “I didn’t want to be indebted to you,” I told him.

“Why is that?”

“I always had this weird thing about needing to repay people’s kindnesses, so that I wouldn’t be indebted to them,” I told him. “I also kept track of the kind things I’ve done, and made sure that I’ve done more kind things so that my debt would be repaid, and it would stay that way.”

Ford sighed. “The stars above know that I haven’t been the kindest man,” he said. “I pushed away my brother, my family, my best friend… all for my ego. Ever since I came back into their lives, I found that I’ve been doing the same thing on occasion. Trying to repay the debt– reversing the cruelty I showed to them.”

I sighed. “Oh Ford, I had no idea…”

“You couldn’t have known, I never told you,” he said. “But if there’s anything that I’ve learned, it’s that the people who are worth it who also stick around don’t keep score.”

I nodded, looking down. His words made sense, but I didn’t absorb it well. “That makes sense.”

“You don’t need to keep score with me, sweetheart,” he told me, lifting my chin up with his index finger and thumb so I would look at him. “Your presence is worth more than some silly debt that doesn’t even exist. You know how fond of you I am, if last night was any indication.”

I smiled at him, fixating my gaze on his lips. “I do.” We both leaned in, kissing each other sweetly.

Ford hummed. “That syrup tastes so good on your lips~” he said before kissing me again.

I smiled against his lips. “It’s funny you should say that,” I said. “I was going to say the same thing about yours~”

We kept making out, softly chuckling, or giggling in my case, until we had a knock at the door. We parted, and I grabbed my robe. I got out of bed, wrapped it around me, and opened the door.

Stan was in the doorway. “Sweet Moses,” he said as I let him in. “I was beginning to think you and Sixer were dead in here. The family and I haven’t seen you two in forever, and neither of you cared to respond to our texts.”

Stan whistled as I closed the door. “You’ve really been busy, huh?”

“Stanley!” Stanford scolded as he covered himself up.

“Poindexter, we literally showered next to each other while we were on that boat,” he said.

“You looked?!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Shit, you didn’t tell her about our Stan-o’-War adventures, Ford? You oughta tell the lady!” Stan said. “And no, I didn’t look at your naked body. Not on purpose, anyway.”

“I’m so glad we retired the boat last year,” Ford said, covering his face with his hands.

“What adventures were you up to?” I asked the two of them.

“Oh, ya know. Treasure, and most importantly, babes,” Stan said with a wink. “Even Sixer got lucky a couple of times.”

“Oh, did you?” I asked turning to Ford as his blush grew deeper. “How were your partners?”

“They were fine,” he said, uncovering his face and running his hand through his hair.

“Come on, Ford! That’s not what you told me before!” Stan said. “Especially when ya hooked up with that Calvin guy!”

I looked at Ford. “Guy?” I asked curiously.

I guess he wasn’t making up for lost time. I guess he just really wanted me… which I’m very, very happy with.

“What? Ya jealous?” Stan asked.

I shook my head. “Why be jealous of his past partners when I’m the one who has him in the present?” I countered as a smirk grew on my face.

“Ha! I like her! I hope ya keep her, Poindexter,” Stan told his brother.

“But anyway-”

Ford cut Stan off. “Stan, there’s a time and a place, and this is not the time, nor the place,” he said.

“Au contraire, brother of mine! This is the perfect time!” Stan exclaimed. “We’re in your room without the kids here, and we’re not doin’ anything until the afternoon.”

I turned to Ford. “You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to, Ford,” I told him.

“No… I do want to tell you, sweetheart,” he said. “I’m just not sure how you’re going to take it.”

“Don’t worry about that. You know how curious I am,” I told him. “If it gets to be too much, you can stop.”

Ford nodded. “Very well,” he said as he swallowed. “So I meet this gentleman who’s around the same age as Stanley and myself, and he’s rather charming. Dare I say, cute.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” I told him, but he just looked at me. “Oh, sorry, continue. Was he a true gentleman, though?”

I saw a slight blush come across Ford’s face. “He was. He also told me he had a speech impediment, but with the way he spoke, you wouldn’t have been able to tell,” he told me. “He was brilliant as well. What he knew as an astrophysicist blew my mind.”

Stan elbowed me. “He blew his mind in more than one way.” I smiled.

“Stan!” Ford cried, his blush deepening. “A-anywho, he starts flirting, thanks to Stanley’s tips I successfully flirted back. I followed him to his hotel room… and that’s how I found that I liked to have… Stanley, can you leave us?”

Stan had a massive smirk on his face. “No. Go on, Poindexter. Tell her what ya like. It’s important for your lovers to know what you like. And it’s not like you didn’t tell me about this, either.”

“It’s just… I would like to tell her… alone,” he said.

“Shit, don’t let me get in the way of getting your rocks off, Sixer,” he said as he made his way to the door. Before he left, Stan turned to me and called my name. “Just make sure he isn’t too fucked out. And make sure she can still walk, Ford.”

Stan slammed the door shut before Ford rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “If this story is making you jealous, I can stop. I know if you told me a similar story, I most likely would be.”

I shook my head before making my way back to the bed, sitting next to him. “I’m curious, honey,” I told him. “Don’t hold out on me now. I might find something that I can do for you.”

Ford nodded, looking away as a small blush spread across his face. “If you’re certain…” he said as I nodded. “So, once we did the deed… I found that I liked having my prostate stimulated.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh. That’s it?” I asked. That was pretty anticlimactic.

“You’re… you’re not turned off?” Ford asked.

I shook my head. “No… should I?” I asked.

“No! No,” he said. “I just thought… you wouldn’t like it, that’s all.”

I smiled as I placed my hand on his. “If you want me to stimulate your prostate, I’d be more than happy to do it for you,” I told him.

“So… you don’t mind the fact that I’ve been with a man? And another woman?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you care that I lost my virginity years ago to a guy I no longer speak with?” I asked.

Ford chuckled. “I see your point.”

“I don’t care, Ford,” I clarified. “Honestly… I’m glad you told me about how much you like your prostate stimulated.” I kissed along his jawline.

I heard his breath hitch. “Let’s save that for later tonight, sweetheart,” he said, grasping my chin with his index finger and thumb, and planted his lips on mine. He may not have been hungry, but I was.

“Still so hungry? Especially after the last few nights?” he asked.

“After all this time, I finally have you to myself to enjoy~” I told him as I kissed him again.

He moaned on my lips before parting. “What time is it?”

I looked for my phone. Once I found it, I saw that it was 11:15.

Of course Stan texted me that we were going out at 1 today for a picnic on the beach. He sent it a few days ago and I never saw it.

I set my phone down on my night stand, and went back to him. “We have an hour if we conserve resources~” I tempted him as I bit my lip.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I didn’t think my libido would be so high,” Ford said, resting his forehead against mine with his hands on my hips and smiling. “You really unlocked something in me, sweetheart.”

I giggled, staying in his lap while placing my hands on his chest. “I’d say the same, honey~” I told him. “That night when you called me a cheeky girl… oh goodness...”

I abruptly got out of his arms and lap and walked towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna shower, honey,” I told him.

“Would you like company?” Ford asked.

I gestured to him to follow me, and I heard him follow behind me as we showered together. Feeling the warm water on my skin, and just feeling his presence was a simple delight all on its own.

We got dressed, and I opted for a sleeveless pastel green sundress with an inner cucumber green chiffon shawl and black sandals. When I opened the door, Ford had a short sleeved red v neck shirt with his signature red sweater wrapped around his broad shoulders lazily with the same black pants and his signature boots on.

“Beautiful as always, sweetheart,” he told me, grabbing my hand and kissing it as I smiled.

“Thank you, handsome~” I told him as I kissed him on the cheek. It felt hot to my lips, and I saw that he was blushing once I separated myself from him.

I heard my phone go off. I went to grab it, and Stan had texted me twice.

Stan: Alright, 10 minute warnring! You better come down before we leave!

Stan: Damn it, I meant warning.

Me: We’re on our way, don’t leave

I turned my phone off and turned to Ford. “Come on, honey,” I told him. “Stan’s gonna leave without us.”

Ford came closer to me, smiling. “Okay,” he said. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against him while he gave me a kiss.

I laid my hands on his chest, sighing happily into the kisses he gave me. I pulled away, smiling, but Ford pulled me back into him. “One more~” he purred as we kissed one last time. Ford kissed my forehead before we left.

On our way down, we held hands in the elevator. Once the door opened, a family was waiting to get on, but Ford quickly took his hand back and began walking out.

I tried to recover as quickly as I could and tried to catch up with him. We eventually found the teens and Stan in the lobby, waiting for us.

“There ya are! Ya- uh, dollface?” Stan said. “Ya might want to have a look in the mirror. Look at your neck.”

I turned to look at the mirror in the lobby, and found that a burgundy round bruise was starting to form in the junction between my shoulder and my neck. I groaned before wrapping the chiffon shawl higher, around my shoulders. Even though that’s not how it’s supposed to be worn, it works.

I turned back to see Ford scratching the back of his head, and Stan laughing heartily. With the teenagers, all the girls were talking together, and Dipper was on his phone, typing away.

Perhaps he took my advice and is starting to focus more on Pacifica.

Mabel called out my name. “You’re finally better!” she said, getting up from her seat and giving me a hug. “That means I can give you your present!”

Mabel handed me a hunter green cloth elegantly wrapped in a white bow. I unraveled the bow, and it revealed that the hunter green cloth was actually a sweater, and it had a white lotus print on it. It was stunning.

“Wow, that one came out real pretty, pumpkin,” Stan commented.

“Oh, hon… this is so beautiful!” I told her as I broke out in a grateful smile. “Thank you so much!” I gave her a hug.

“I’m so glad you like it!” Mabel said.

I decided to try it on real quick, and it fit me perfectly… almost too perfectly.

Mabel is more intuitive than I thought.

“Aaaand I, too, have a present for your birthday,” Dipper said my name, giving me a small black box with a bow on it.

I unraveled the bow, and opened the box, which revealed a midnight blue, almost black velvet satchel. I opened the small satchel and saw that he had given me my own set of die for D, D & More D. They were black with gold on the edges, which added some elegance to them.

“What a thoughtful gift, my boy,” Ford commented.

“Oh Dipper… I love these! Thank you!” I told him as I also gave him a hug.

“Now you don’t always have to borrow them. These are yours for life,” Dipper said.

“That’s so sweet,” I told them. “Thank you… both of you.”

“Of course!” Mabel exclaimed, before giving a goofy side eye to Ford. “What did you get for her birthday, Grunkle Ford?”

“Well… this whole vacation,” he admitted.

“And you had us thinking that this was all planned months ago. Genius!” Dipper exclaimed.

Stan cleared his throat before scowling at his brother. “Don’t you mean it was our birthday gift to her?”

Ford nodded. “Right, yes. It was my and Stanley’s idea,” Ford said.

“Which I was very grateful to hear, so thank you honey,” I told him as I kissed Ford on the cheek. Dipper smiled and Mabel squealed.

“Hey, do I get a kiss on the cheek?” Stan asked comically.

“Sure,” I told him, giving him a quick peck before returning to Ford’s side.

“Alright family!” Stan announced. “Let’s go to the park!” 

Everyone cheered as we went to the park, which I came to find out was Cannon Beach City Park, nearby that same beach we went to a few days ago.

While we were in the RV, Tambry came up to me. “I just wanted to apologize to you,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow, caught completely off guard. “Apologize? For what?” I asked.

“You seemed to catch my cold. That’s why I apologized,” she told me, shifting around and wringing her hands.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, dear,” I told her. “I don’t think I caught it from you.”

Tambry gave me a half smile. “Well, if you say so…”

I smiled. “I know so. Don’t beat yourself up,” I told her.

She thanked me as she went back towards the front of the RV, with Wendy and Dipper.

“If only they knew,” Ford said in a dark lustful tone.

I looked at him to see his eyes were dark again, clouded over by lust.

I chuckled as cutely as I could. “If only they knew…”

We arrived at the park, and set up everything. Apparently, the kids took charge of gathering everything, so I definitely have them to thank.

There were multiple jams, breads, cheeses and premade sandwiches, as well as chips.

The tall evergreens surrounded us, and the overall lush background was ever so beautiful. It was as if Mother Earth was swaddling us with the rich verdant vegetation.

As we joked and conversed, my mind drifted back to when Ford quickly took his hand back when the elevator door opened. It was almost like… he was ashamed of me.

I’m sure that’s not the case, but I can’t help but feel that way. The more I thought about it, the more rotten my mood became, although I hope I didn’t express it much outwardly.

We ended up staying until sunset, which was when we decided to leave. On the drive back, I think Ford sensed something was wrong.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart?” He asked.

I shook my head. “Once we’re in our room I’ll tell you.”

Ford looked a little worried after that, but it soon faded as we both watched the sun disappear into the horizon.

Once we arrived at the hotel, we said our goodnights to the kids and Stan, and made our way up. I felt Ford reach for my hand, but I put both of my hands in front of me, holding each other. I didn’t bother to check his facial expression, and he put his hand back at his side.

The elevator door opened, and we got off on our floor. I swiped the key to our room, and let the both of us in. I faced Stanford as he called my name.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“I feel like I should be asking that,” I told him.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“You pulled your hand away when we exited the elevator earlier today,” I told him. “It was almost like… you were ashamed of me. Like you didn’t want that family to know we were together, even though they were strangers.”

“I… I didn’t realize…” Ford told me. “I thought you would have been ashamed for them to see us in that way, so that’s why I separated from you.”

“So why didn’t you let me make that decision, Ford?” I asked. “If I really felt that way, which I don’t, I would have done it myself.”

“I… I acted preemptively. I’m sorry…” he told me, saying my name.

“...Do you feel ashamed to be with me?” I asked, fearing his answer.

“No, sweetheart, no,” he told me almost immediately before wrapping his arms around me and trapping me in a bear hug that… admittedly felt really nice. “Of course not. I believed that you would feel ashamed, but… now I know that I shouldn’t assume things like this.”

“Okay… I believe you,” I told him as I wrapped my arms around him. “I’m sorry, Ford.”

“No… I’m sorry, my sweet,” he said. “You’re an independent person. I shouldn’t be making decisions like that for you.”

“Well, while we’re on that topic,” I told him. “I don’t have any living family, so… would you like to be my healthcare proxy, should something happen?”

Ford held me tighter. “Don’t say that!” he said my name.

I hugged him tighter too. “I don’t plan on going anywhere, but… life can be unexpected,” I told him. “And I know it's a little random to ask this so suddenly, but... will you?”

Ford nodded. “Of course. So long as you will do the same for me.”

“Absolutely.”

We parted, and we got ready for bed. Ford finished before I did, and climbed into bed. Once I was done, I climbed into bed, and on top of him. His arms languidly glided around me, and I rested my hands on his chest.

Ford gave me a smile, which I reciprocated as we shared a sweet yet soft kiss before I laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His steady, slow rhythm lulled me into a deep sleep almost instantaneously as I felt the warmth and the love that this sweet man held for me.

💚💚💚

Thanks for reading~

[maxdibert]

Re: the ask about Lily being Snape's "attachment figure" and him confusing that for love. Based on the people you work with experiencing similar... how well can people manage to move beyond that with the correct support/therapy/environment/other interventions, and form healthier relationships and have a better quality of life? Like, best case scenario

I'm imagining Sev leaves Hogwarts and Spinner's End, gets some peace and quiet and maybe some therapy(?) - although Sev doesn't seem the type to me to naturally step away from an unhealthy place or engage with any sort of treatment, at least at first, and in any case the wizarding world has a very "get over it" attitude and like 0 awareness of mental health lol (and his next big problem if he survived ofc would probably be being mobbed by fans and haters alike, and Rita Skeeter turning up in his floorboards to write a colourful biography).

BUT in an ideal world, how (and how well) could he perhaps move on from being overly attached to Lily and her memory, and form new, healthier relationships and prioritise himself?

And only if you care to write about it because i know this has gotten long, but how about on the flip side of if he survived, his purpose fulfilled (Harry lived and is safe; his debt to Lily repaid) - and he received no support or new friends/community, how would he cope? Without that goal/focus? Without the structure of Hogwarts? With the tumult of the end of the war, more attention, but no purpose, and probably no job teaching? I've seen a few fics where he turns to drink but I can't really see it myself, and would love to hear your thoughts!! Love seeing that you've posted 💕

It depends on whether it's driven by mere emotional deprivation or part of a clinical diagnosis. For example, having attachment figures is quite common in people with bipolar disorder or borderline personality disorder—most of them experience it regularly. It's also the case for those of us who suffer from anxiety or have an anxious attachment style; we tend to have attachment figures as well, but that’s more of a clinical issue.

From what I've learned and what people who work directly to improve people's daily lives (I'm in the legal field, after all) like psychologists or social caregivers have told me, it all depends on the case, the severity, and the person themselves. Generally, younger people have more success with recovery than those in middle age, which makes sense because the younger you are, the more adaptable you are and the easier it is to develop tools and ways to self-manage. The older you get, the harder it becomes, because these behaviors have been established over many years, and it's quite difficult to change them. But for younger people, especially teenagers and those under 30, the prognosis is generally good, especially if the person is intervened, receives good therapy, and is properly supported. BUT ABOVE ALL ELSE, if that person wants it, because no matter how many resources you give someone, if they don't want to make use of them, there's nothing you can do. One of the first things you learn when you work in social services and community work, lolololololol.

Now, it's a bit like what you said. I can't imagine Severus just leaving Spinner's End like that because, personally, I think he never left because it was a self-imposed prison for him when he wasn't at Hogwarts. His penance as a professor was something Dumbledore had given him, but when he wasn't teaching, he had another penance: going back to that house, which was tied to his childhood and all the bad memories. So, I find it hard to picture him leaving easily... but, well, let's pretend we live in La-La Land. If a 21-year-old Severus hadn't gotten stuck in that spiral of suffering and guilt, selling his soul to Dumbledore after already selling it to Voldemort (those daddy issues, my dear Sev, I love you but it's true), and if he'd managed to find some rehabilitation, I think he'd have had a decent prognosis. Being so young, with good therapists and professionals? Sure. Especially because good therapy also involves learning to relate socially and emotionally in a healthy way, but we’re talking about very modern therapy concepts, not the 80s where they just handed out Prozac and antipsychotics for everything, lololol. I don’t think Severus was a lost cause back then. I think circumstances made him a lost cause. And yes, I believe he could have learned to relate to others (maybe not perfectly because, socially awkward to the max), maybe even have friends, and potentially even a partner. Absolutely. But not in the 80s and not in the wizarding world where mental health issues seem less important than in medieval times.

Regarding the AU where Severus survives, that's something I really like and read a lot of (I even wrote an SSxReader with that premise). I honestly think that if he had survived after completing his mission—settling his debt to Lily by ensuring Harry survived, making sure Voldemort was dead, and achieving his goals—he would have fallen into a severe depression. That’s how I portray him, essentially as someone very depressed who doesn't know what to do with a life he never asked for, because he always thought he’d die in the war or be killed at some point, so he never had a plan for survival. And also someone deeply ashamed for Harry knowing everything about his past (imagine surviving knowing Harry Potter knows EVERYTHING about your past—just thinking about it would blow your mind) and at the same time knowing that to some, he’s a hero, to others, he’s a jerk, and to some, he’s a traitor, but the thing is, he’s never indifferent to anyone, and he just wants to be left alone. Without being a professor because he’s always hated kids, but not really knowing what else to do because, well, that's the only thing he's ever done. In general, he’s someone who doesn’t know what to do with his life because he’s never had one, so he doesn’t know how to handle it. That’s my general vision.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

hello! I saw your recent post for asks, so don't mind me! x) someone said that Jiang Cheng lost his Golden Core because he saved Wei Wuxian, which is.. not true at all? I would've asked where they got that take, but I don't feel up to receiving hate ;-; have a nice day!

Hi there!

I will answer some of these seriously and others not so (Yours is one of those to be taken seriously even if Jiang Cheng doest deserve that).

On to the question... I believe this is conflated with the assumption "Jiang Cheng decided to chase away the Wens that would have seen Wei Wuxian" hence this saved Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian losing his core. And to that: there is nothing in text as to what would have happened if the Wen soldiers saw Wei Wuxian instead. What we found know is that Jiang Cheng led the soldiers away, we don't know how else he had been caught by Wen Zhuliu eventually or how he had been retained long enough by them for Wen Zhuliu to use the core melting technique.

As to saving Wei Wuxian, in one way, at the time, yes he did. But this is immediately rescinded when he chooses to strangle Wei Wuxian, again, and regrets very resentfully, the sacrifice this cost. Jiang Cheng does not like to make sacrifices, especially on s detrimental to himself or what he sees as more trouble than that sacrifice would be worth. He did not expect to sacrifice anything from this saving of Wei Wuxian. And even after this his hate is enough that he expounds on what he thought Wei Wuxian owed to the Jiang parents to himself and reasons them as debts owed by Wei Wuxian. Yet sacrifices aren't supposed to be repaid and to do without. Even thirteen years later after Wei Wuxian had died and provided Yunmeng Jiang with a better place and chance it had before, Jiang Cheng still expects continued sacrifice from Wei Wuxian as he does think he is entitled to it, even when that goes against Wei Wuxian's ideals.

We have two instances where Jiang Cheng decides to protect Wei Wuxian, once when they are nine and he says he will protect Wei Wuxian from his fear of dogs, which he stops doing and uses a dog against Wei Wuxian rescinding his own promise. And when he chased the Wen soldiers from Wei Wuxian where he did not expect to lose a thing, and even after getting a core, he chooses to frame this all as Wei Wuxian abandoning those that gave him life and helps to have Wei Wuxian killer one way or another.

What he wanted was an outlet to hate with what he hater in himself and his lack of taking his own choices and actions into account. This is only stopped when he is faced with Jin Ling under worse circumstances as Wei Wuxian once had and goes out of his way to leave his faith in someone finally unquestionable and unable to be exploited.

[wondertrio]

Wendell was found and adopted as a young child (5-ish) by a family of halflings named Erling and Berthe Tinselfoot. They already had a young daughter named Winnie, but brought Wendell in, named him, and raised him on a relatively isolated farm in Longsaddle, near the city of Luskan.

Wendell remembers very little of his early childhood. It’s mainly a blur of his time on the Tinselfoot farm, nothing earlier than six or seven years old (though it should be noted he has no idea of his actual age or birthday). He was a quiet, solemn kid who dragged his feet (hooves) about doing farm chores and would instead sneak into the fields with a book to read the day away. He particularly enjoyed stories about paladins slaying devils and demons, or adventurers getting lost in the faewild and falling prey to fae trickery. He tried to cut off his horns at around age 11, and was stopped by his mother after cutting one. It never fully grew back. He was uncomfortable with his tiefling appearance, especially since other tieflings didn’t seem to have hooves like him, but he has more or less gotten used to his body as he grew up.

Wendell (early 20s) went to the same shop in Luskan three days in a row to study a scroll of plane shift. It was 500gp and he couldn’t afford it. He would clean for two hours in exchange for one hour of study time. On the fourth day when he was studying, the shopkeeper told him someone (Roben Klement) was buying every spell scroll in stock and he had to hand it over. Wendell, frustrated after having just spent time cleaning, asked if Roben could wait a while longer. Roben let Wendell keep the scroll. When Wendell said he didn’t need any handouts, Roben replied that it was just a gift from one magic enthusiast to another and left. Wendell caught up to him and asked to work to pay for it, like he had done at the shop. Roben says he always has components to process if he wanted to come over.

After a few weeks, Wendell casually mentions he wants to go to school but can’t afford it. Roben offers to pay, Wendell declines. Over the next week, the Tinselfoot farm gains dozens of new clients wanting to stock their produce and dairy, the Tinselfoots become quite wealthy very quickly. Wendell is suddenly able to go to school. Roben denies involvement but Wendell knows better.

Wendell is grateful but not stupid. He is very dedicated to Roben, despite knowing very little about him. Wendell also knows this debt will likely need to be repaid at some point in the future, not with money, but more likely with favors or allegiance, which at this point he is happy to do.

Wendell (now around 35ish) maintains a small apartment in Luskan, and frequently travels between there, Longsaddle, Candlekeep, and Silverymoon. His knowledge (and level) come from diligent study, NOT real world application. He spends his time teaching, and researching interplanar travel.

In game it has been revealed that Wendell is from the Faewild, that he houses a fragment of a fae queen’s soul, and that he was taken to Faerun for his safety. He and his party are now actively working to get to the Faewild to resolve a number of issues!

[arathejedi394]

snippet from into the dark

The conference is not held in a board room or auditorium, but what looks like Mikoyan’s personal office at the Ritz. The office is definitely spacious, but with the number of people shoehorned in, it feels rather cramped. Bucky’s crew is limited to a ten by five foot square; Murdock and Nelson sit in straight-backed armchairs, Natasha, Clint, and a few of the other goons are in folding chairs, but most of them are left standing. Given the number of times the arguing has escalated to drawn weapons, Steve fully understands why there are ten armed men standing behind them.

However, Steve’s bored as shit. Bucky’s definitely bored as shit, too, considering the argument currently taking place has nothing to do with his territory. Steve’s pretty sure the root cause of this problem is Pascal Boissieus’s insecure relationship Va niquer ta merehis father, becVa niquer ta mereause it really seems that this argument is purely between him and his sister, Charity (Cyril’s the one married in, turns out). Shit’s weird.

But it’s day 9 of this fucked up conference. Steve is texting Darcy, Peggy, and Peter to complain and trash-talk. He misses his bed back in New York and he’s getting tired of having nothing but the food served at the Ritz; they haven’t had time to get In’N’Out or pastrami from The Hat, the conference is so demanding.

“Can we table this?” Bucky asks for the eighth time in the past twenty minutes.

“C’mon, it’s just gettin’ good!” Simon Robel protests.

“You stay out of this!” Charity snaps.

“Seriously!” Bucky calls. “This has nothing to do with the rest of us!”

“For once, I agree with Barnes,” Krikor Mikoyan announces. “There are more important topics we have not yet touched on.”

“Like what?” Charity Boissieus snaps.

The attention in the room all shifts to Krikor, but he, instead of speaking, turns to look at Fisk. Steve’s phone screen blacks out from inactivity, but he doesn’t move. Fisk stands and steps forward.

“I have a grievance I feel I must share,” he begins.

“Talk shit fast,” Boissieus says.

“It greatly concerns the eight families,” Fisk assures Boissieus, bowing at the waist to the family leaders one by one. 

He doesn’t, however, bow to Bucky. He lets his gaze linger on them and smiles a little. Steve’s jaw tightens.

“What I propose today could change the structure of everything we do,” Fisk says. “My family’s honor was spat upon some fifty years ago, you see.”

“Talk faster,” Bucky snaps.

“It is your organization that slighted me,” Fisk returns, stepping into the center of the room as though taking on a spotlight. “When I was just a boy, my father borrowed money from the Seyrbakovs to fund an election campaign for the city council. But he failed, unfortunately, and was unable to pay back the money he was loaned.”

Steve’s gaze sharpens. Fisk pauses to look around once more, tongue wetting his lips as he takes in a breath and lets his words sink in. Steve sits up a little.

“My father asked the now late Aleksei Seyrbakov, senior, to allow him some time to find a way to repay his debt,” Fisk says. “Seyrbakov gave him no time. Even before the original date that he and my father had agreed upon, Seyrbakov demanded the debt repaid. My father could do nothing, we were penniless and he could barely afford to keep me and my mother off the streets. My father was a good man,” Fisk tells the room, as though insisting the point.

Insisting, Steve knows, because Fisk is fucking lying.

“But Seyrbakov did not see it that way,” Fisk tells them. “When my father failed to repay his debt, Seyrbakov sent men to collect. In blood. I was only twelve.”

“Why should we care?” Marlies demands. “Your pops couldn’t pay up, it’s what happens when you borrow from the mafia.”

“Suck it up, as the kids say,” Constanza Genovesi tells Fisk.

“Had I been an honest businessman, I would agree,” Fisk answers Constanza. “But I am not an honest businessman. I am the new competitor for the Seyrbakov family.”

Bucky opens his mouth. Steve grabs his knee and squeezes. Bucky meets his gaze and Steve just holds it steadily. Let him finish, he tries to silently communicate. Trust me.

Bucky tenses his jaw. He glances to Fisk, then back to Steve. He works his jaw back and forth, his gaze concerned. Steve, maintaining eye contact, slightly lifts his chin. Bucky thinks for a moment, but then, almost imperceptibly, he nods and leans back, and as Steve relaxes next to him again, he flicks his gaze back to Fisk.

“I ask that this conference treat the murder of my father the same way you would your own,” Fisk announces. “The Seyrbakov dynasty has ended, you all agree that Barnes is not the rightful heir to the family, he deserves no seat at this council. My business is bigger and better. I could wipe him out in an instant, but I stand before you today because while I may not be an honest businessman –”

Fisk turns and looks directly at Bucky.

“I am no underhanded serpent,” he concludes darkly.

Fisk stops. The room is silent. Steve swings his spiked red bottom Death Metal heels off the opposite arm of the sofa and sits upright. He looks Fisk in the eye despite the quickening of his heartbeat, then brings his hands together and claps once, twice, three times. 

Fisk blinks. Steve applauds slowly. No one joins in and everyone looks at him like he’s insane.

“That was really moving,” he starts calmly. “Did you write it down or was it off the top of your head?”

“I am not sure I understand –” Fisk starts, but Steve cuts him off.

“It’s a really convincing story,” he says, flicking his eyebrows up and even smiling. Fisk looks flabbergasted now. Steve just smiles. “A story,” he repeats, “but go off, I guess.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Fisk asks, sounding highly insulted.

“I ain’t callin’ you a truther,” Steve snaps. “Pal, who the fuck you kiddin’? You killed your father!”

Fisk sucks in a breath and his eyes widen. Bucky lets out a sudden and sharp laugh and flops backward in his seat, covering his eyes with a hand. Krikor Mikoyan grabs Fisk’s arm and makes as though to whisper in his ear, but Steve stops him, again.

“Credit to him,” he announces, looking around the room, “his pop beat him and his ma an’ I really don’t think a jury would’a convicted him, even when he was 12, but his pa didn’t get offed by the Seyrbakovs and it had nothin’ to do with money!”

“He’s lying!” Krikor laughs, sounding very unconvincing. “Seyrbakov had Wilson’s father killed –!”

“Blah, blah,” Steve interrupts. “You wanna call out an underhanded serpent, how ‘bout you call out yourself, you fucking p***,” he spits out violently, impulsively. “Well, I suppose technically, you’re an ephebophilic.”

Bucky jolts. Fisk’s eyes narrow and Steve doubles down. 

“Yeah, I said it!” he snaps, clapping his hands together. “You’s a snake and a creep, you nasty! Take your grievances and GTFO, asshole!”

“What?” Krikor splutters.

“How dare you –” Vanessa, Fisk’s fiancée, starts on Steve.

“Sis,” Steve interrupts her, too, “just don’t.”

“Was this your grand plan to oust Barnes once and for all, Kay?” Kempinski asks Krikor angrily. “A weak lie by a low-level mob boss?”

“I am not lying!” Fisk says in almost a roar.

“You told Garrett,” Steve snaps. 

Fisk’s gaze snaps back to his and Steve just raises his brows. 

“Back in the Persian Gulf, remember that?” he spills. “The night the two of you lost your squad and you was deep in enemy territory, thought you was gonna die, so you told each other your worst secrets?”

Fisk doesn’t reply. His silence says everything, though.

“Don’t feel bad,” Steve adds, “Garrett never keeps secrets. Kept,” he corrects himself. “Satan torture his soul,” he concludes.

(Satan’s not torturing his soul. Because Bucky’s not done torturing his body.)

Marlies Robel starts slow-clapping. Boissieus quickly joins in, then Charity and Cyril and the other Robels join in. Garine rushes in and grabs Krikor’s arm, yanking him away from Fisk and hissing angrily in his ear. Vanessa moves to her man’s side and touches his arm gently. Fisk doesn’t move.

“Let’s touch back on that p*** thing,” Simon Robel says. “I fucking hate p***s.”

“Wilson is no child predator!” Vanessa snaps.

Steve waves a hand at her. “What’d I just tell you two minutes ago?” he demands. “Sis, just don’t.”

“Do you have proof?” James Wesley tries to ask.

Steve turns his gaze on him and just stares blankly at him. Wesley spreads his hands, raising his eyebrows. Bucky sets a hand on Steve’s back, but Steve works his jaw, then leans forward and looks at Garine and Krikor.

“Does that big screen have a cast function?” he asks, waving his phone a little.

Krikor glares. Garine glances at the nearest large, flat-screen TV mounted on the wall – there are many – and she shrugs, then grabs a remote and switches it on. Steve looks down and unlocks his phone, jaw clenched, and opens up his Google Drive.

There were definitely more things to hate about his time learning from Garrett, but Steve can be glad for a few. One of which, Garrett’s insistence on security.

“What are you doing?” Vanessa asks.

Steve taps on an old video, hits cast, and selects the nearby TV. He looks up and watches as the TV loads the media from his phone. His pacemaker’s keeping his heartbeat from pounding out of his chest. This is overkill. This is so overkill, but Steve’s pissed. Does he fucking have fucking proof?

[mariacallous]

A US judge has cleared the way for billions of dollars to be refunded to former customers of bankrupt crypto exchange FTX.

At a court hearing in Wilmington, Delaware, on Monday, judge John Dorsey gave final approval to FTX’s reorganization plan, the terms of which had previously been put to creditors and voted through by a landslide.

“I think this is a model case for how to deal with a very complex Chapter 11 proceeding,” said Dorsey. “I applaud everyone involved in the negotiation process.”

FTX filed for bankruptcy in November 2022 after running out of funds to process customer withdrawals. Billions of dollars’ worth of FTX customer deposits were missing. The money, a jury later found, had been swept into a sibling company and spent on high-risk trading, venture bets, debt repayments, personal loans, political donations, luxury real estate, and other illegitimate dealings.

A year later, FTX founder Sam Bankman-Fried was convicted of multiple counts of fraud and conspiracy, then sentenced to 25 years in prison. In September, coconspirator Caroline Ellison received a two-year prison term after testifying against Bankman-Fried at trial.

First proposed in May, the FTX bankruptcy plan charts a path to a full refund, plus interest, for former FTX customers—a level of recovery rarely seen in bankruptcies. “Generally, anything over 100 cents on the dollar is close to miraculous,” says Yesha Yadav, associate dean and a bankruptcy specialist at Vanderbilt University Law School. “What tends to happen is that unsecured creditors get cents on the dollar, if they’re lucky. The expectation is that it is a process of scarcity.”

In this case, though, the administrators of the FTX estate were able to recover billions of dollars by liquidating investments made by the exchange’s venture capital arm, FTX Ventures, and its sister company, Alameda Research, along with other assets. A rise in the price of cryptocurrencies in the period since FTX filed for bankruptcy, meanwhile, raised the value of the coins left in exchange coffers.

Under the plan, government bodies in the United States—including the Internal Revenue Service and the Commodities and Futures Trading Commission—have agreed to suspend high-value claims against FTX until creditors had been repaid (although the IRS will receive a $200 million upfront payment as part of the settlement).

Even FTX equity holders, typically the last to be repaid in a bankruptcy, stand to make back a portion of their initial investment—a maximum of $230 million between them—paid for using funds recovered by the Department of Justice through the prosecution of FTX insiders.

But despite the abnormally high expected recovery, some creditors believe they are still getting a raw deal by virtue of the way their claims have been valued.

Many customers held crypto assets like bitcoin on the FTX platform, but through a process called dollarization common to bankruptcies, their claims have instead been assigned a dollar value based on the price of those assets on the date of the bankruptcy filing. When FTX fell, the crypto market was in the doldrums, but it has since lurched to new all-time highs, meaning some customer claims would be far more valuable if the refund were mapped to the present value of crypto assets. Therefore, though dollarization is proper under the bankruptcy code, “saying [the return] is over 100 percent is just wrong,” says Yadav. “For the average person, it’s very far from that.”

Among the parties that stand to gain the most from the approval of the plan, meanwhile, are investment firms that spent millions of dollars purchasing claims from people with assets stuck in FTX, who either preferred to take a haircut and reinvest the money or had urgent need of the funds. Those claims were typically purchased at a cut-price rate before a handsome recovery was considered likely—some for less than 10 cents on the dollar—but are now worth multiples of that.

“In terms of internal rate of return—holy shit. It’s the best trade I’ve seen in my lifetime,” says Thomas Braziel, cofounder of 507 Capital, an investment firm that specializes in buying up bankruptcy claims and took a large position in FTX, and 117 Partners, which brokers claim sales. (In July, Braziel was ordered by a Delaware court to repay $1.9 million that he misappropriated as receiver of failed financial services company Fund.com to make investments and luxury purchases.)

In August, a number of former FTX customers filed formal objections to the plan with the bankruptcy court. The customers objected, variously, to the legal immunity provided under the plan to those that have administered the bankruptcy, the likelihood that cash payments would trigger costly taxable events for creditors, and other elements of the plan. “I felt vindicated when Bankman-Fried went to jail—and I believed that would flow through to bankruptcy court,” says Sunil Kavuri, one FTX customer to cosign an objection. “I’ve been unpleasantly surprised.”

In the course of the five-hour hearing, Brian Glueckstein, an attorney at law firm Sullivan & Cromwell and counsel to FTX, responded to each objection in turn. “There is no evidence on the record that somehow these debtors are not providing maximum value—none,” said Glueckstein.

In providing his approval, the judge rejected the pending objections and cleared the way for FTX administrators to begin to execute the plan.

It remains possible to lodge an appeal against the plan after its confirmation in limited circumstances. Logistical complications may also delay repayments to creditors, expected to begin late this year at the earliest. But few realistic options now remain for parties hoping to change the course of the FTX bankruptcy.

The confirmation hearing “is the last chance in a practical sense for changes to be made,” says Yadav. “This is the defining day.”

[mitaukanoarts]

Huh, I never posted her backstory anywhere. Well then. Lets recitify that shall we? Mair Hendwr Backstory -

Gifts are never given freely by the fae, and one such gift the Lord and Lady Hendwr did receive. Two children the Prince of Boars Twrch Trwyth would bestow, but the third would be their own and that was the price he demanded. One fully human child to stay in his kingdom ten years after its birth, he would keep it in his world and then the debt would be repaid.

The third child born was Mair, the most human and mundane of the children. With coal black hair, deep brown eyes and a penchant for mischief she easily made friends and was most glib with her speech, a young couturier in the making it seemed. All would have been well, had the closest noble house not sought out an early marriage arrangement for their daughter as the two children had become fast friends. Tentative agreements were sent, and one last trip to meet with the other nobles to discuss the details at length.

While the children played, the parents plotted. The Lord and Lady Hendwr unwilling to let their ambitions of a greater alliance for their house be stopped by a mere fae bargain signed the proposal for a future alliance of the houses. But Twrch Trwyth is no fool, he waited until the girls played far from the keep, waited untill servants looked away and the older boys clashed sticks in battle before snatching Mair  up in his jaws, a gigantic red bristled boar with red eyes. It would be a memory that scarred her friend, haunting her into adulthood the memory of the red eye’d boar and Mair’s scream of terror.

Though Twrch Trwyth demanded payment he was not cruel or harsh with Mair, though she did see him rage across the Fae realm when his anger did consume him, and from this she learned when to be quiet and when to be seen for even Princes of the Fae have tells for their emotional state. He kept her there for two hundred years though she stopped feeling the effects of age at twenty-five. For two hundred years in a land where time was slippery at best, Mair fought, read, and learned some magic. Any extended time will change any human in the fae realms especially one so close to the Prince of Boars. The hair that grew past her ears, all new growth since coming there was red, her eyes also changed after the first ten years to match Twrch Trwyth’s now she was all but his daughter in blood.

One day, in the eternal sunset of that world he came to her with a proposition. She would be allowed to leave, and return to the world of mortals perhaps even live a full mortal life but only if she established herself in the human court. For Twrch Trwyth had heard rumors that other fae had their hands and eyes on the court of the Britannia’s young King Arthur. The Prince of Boars, being far older and wiser than they, must then have an envoy as well.

So Mair once again found herself brought back into the mortal world, resigned that it must have changed significantly in 200 years. But to her shock, she found while her time in that otherworld had been long in the mortal world it had only been fifteen years. The Prince of Boars had kept her for two mortal lifetimes and while she felt all 200 years the world had not much changed. She was now an outlier older inside than she appeared. Worse yet, her childhood friend had never forgotten her and once a year made her way to the place of Mair’s disappearance to honor the memory, so it was a shock when a woman with eyes like the boar and hair with more red than black appeared in that place.  There was a brief scuffle between the two, the friend being sure the Fae Boar had taken on the appearance of a human to taunt her or as some sort of trick.

She attempts to keep her otherworldly appearance from being a distraction she generally wears a hood to disguise herself. Her hands, and arms, are covered in black blackberry tattoos a reminder of her new home in the fae realm.

[loosingmoreletters]

for the ask game? your current favorite ship, and meeting on a train ride au

this couldn’t ever be anything but an ORV fic

Kim Dokja didn’t want to feel uncharitable, but the last thing he needed right now was his train getting delayed because someone had decided to end their life in such an inconvenient way. There were neater solutions to it, though he supposed jumping in front of a train was at least more effective than jumping out of a window.

But honestly, Kim Dokja couldn’t care less. He just wanted to go home and, well, figure out what he was supposed to do with the rest of his life. Maybe he should just read Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse again? Even if the novel had disappeared from the website, Kim Dokja had copied and saved a version on it on his laptop at home. He had left the author many comments, been its only true commenter. It was a story written just for him, he could allow himself this indulgence, especially if he would pay for the novel in the future.

And then, finally, an announcement rang out.

Telling all passengers on the train. Telling all passengers on the train. E-Everyone run away… Run…!

What?

The moment the announcement was finished, the inside of the carriage became a mess, people standing up and screaming. Kim Dokja checked his phone, wondering if there was some other news appearing, yet he saw nothing but the usual weather forecast, the random game apps he had downloaded. And then the time switched from 6:59 p.m. to 7:00 p.m.

At once, the darkness grew heavier, oppressing, the weight of the world bearing down on him as slowly a figure emerged.

[The free service of planetary system 8612 has been terminated.]

[The main scenario has started.]

Familiar words rang out and Kim Dokja held his breath as a scene he’d only ever pictured in his head and drawn clumsily in school notebooks blurred into reality. A small fluffy creature floated above their heads and it proclaimed horrors Kim Dokja had seen as his salvation for over a decade. As people needlessly pestered the dokkaebi, Kim Dokja sat still. This was just like his novel. A train, a monster—

Kim Dokja raised his head, searching for the number of the train carriage. Which one had he boarded?

[3707]

Oh.

This story could only have one ending, could it? And it wasn’t one he was meant to see.

The subway became a bloodbath before the main scenario even started. Had Kim Dokja not read this story before, would he have reacted the same way? Would he be smeared against the glass windows now, dead before the story even really began?

Kim Dokja calmly put his phone in his pocket. Only he knew the future and if he was lucky enough, had proven himself faithful enough to his reason for living, then maybe he’d be allowed to live past the prologue.

A small window emerged in front of everyone’s blank eyes.

[The main scenario has arrived!]

The dokkaebi smiled bloodthirstily before it bowed. [I look forward to an interesting story.]

The next moment, the screaming started again. Kim Dokja turned to the left, the very end of the carriage, from where the people were starting to drop like flies. No question then where the protagonist was. Kim Dokja turned to his right. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the person next to him, they hadn’t moved at all either, had they?

There sat a boy, probably not even middle school aged, holding a box of grasshoppers. Wirely, Kim Dokja thought that he’d need the power boost to face the protagonist.

“Let me,” he told the boy and took the box from him. He opened it just so to get a single one out and pressed it into the boy’s hand. “Now squeeze.”

The boy did as told on reflex, his widening a moment later. With that, Kim Dokja had done his part, repaid the debt he owed the kid. Another particularly gruesome scream and a glance towards the left told him he didn’t have much time. Quickly he reached within the box, squishing all the insects and eggs inside.

[You have killed a living thing.]

[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation.]

Rapidly, the notifications rang out, and just as quickly, Kim Dokja invested them, and that not a moment too late as the last person standing between him and the protagonist was easily tossed aside.

Kim Dokja grimaced and pushed the kid behind him.

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him with cold narrow eyes, as if searching for something. “Unusual.”

Somehow, Kim Dokja couldn’t keep from grinning. “Did that not happen in your last regression?”

It was only thanks to his added speed that Kim Dokja evaded Yoo Joonghyuk reaching for him. Yoo Joonghyuk might have killed more people than anyone else on this train, but it was Kim Dokja who’d win the trophy for mass murder, having killed the most living beings.

“What do you know?”

“More than you,” Kim Dokja replied. “I can definitely lead you to the end of scenarios. Make me your companion, Yoo Joonghyuk. You won’t regret it.”

The protagonist’s eyes widened.

Yes, Kim Dokja thought. This is what I stayed alive for.

[di-writes-stuff]

Cowboy Like Me

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Chapter 2

TW: Mentions of alcohol? Literally nothing, which is weird for me.

It’s of no shock that Valentine isn’t exactly a land of dazzling opportunity. It seems Mr. Mallory was about the only person worth robbing in the whole damned county, and of course that chance slipped right through Arthur’s fingers.

All thanks to you.

You wouldn’t exactly say you felt guilty. That’s not the right word. Empathy is better suited, although you’ve never been one to let a good job slide right past you. Nevertheless, there was something more driving your decision to send that letter.

You would never admit it, not openly. But something about him…you wanted to see him again. Maybe it was his looks, maybe the fact that for once, a man might understand you.

Or maybe it was how sweet he was that first day, coupled with the danger that comes with a man like him. The thrill of knowing damn well you’ve seen that face before, and only later realizing where. In the middle of a bounty poster with a reward of more money than you’ve ever even gotten close to.

Five thousand dollars on his head alone. You’d be a damned liar if you said that didn’t make him more enticing. And so, after you heard about a goldmine in the midst of the barrenness that surrounds Valentine, writing to a certain Arthur Morgan didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

After all, everybody deserves a second chance.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Outlaws don’t typically get mail from random women, so when Miss Grimshaw let Arthur know there was a letter from a lady sitting on his cot, confusion was the first thing that sprung to mind. After he saw your name on the envelope, then came the recognition.

A poster pinned up outside the sheriff's office a couple towns back. He could have gone for your bounty, it was decent enough, but something in him told him to go with the man next to who he now knows to be you.

He’s never felt better about that decision than now as he reads your swirling handwriting.

Dear Arthur,

You don’t know me very well, and I’m not quite sure I know you at all. But, I figured if the price on your head is of any indication, your skills could be useful to me, and mine to you. See, there’s a train running through these parts this Saturday, full of all kinds of rich folk with plenty to go around. If you’re as interested in this prospect as I believe you will be, meet me on Friday morning at the Valentine saloon. I’m sure we can think of some kind of plan together.

Besides, I’m afraid I’ve been in your debt since poor old Mr. Mallory “misplaced” some valuables. I figured it was high time I repaid you for that little incident.

- Y/N

He sits on his cot like a fool for a few moments, a boyish grin on his face before the realization hits him. It’s Friday, and it’s already well past sunrise.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

For a moment you started to believe he wasn’t coming, imagined images of him throwing away your letter in confusion filling you with humiliation.

That is until the man himself walked through the doors of the saloon, although if his appearance had anything to do with it, you’d say he rushed. His hair is a little messy as he removes his black leather hat, and you can’t help but notice that the top few buttons of his shirt are undone, hair peeking out of the loose collar of his shirt.

His steps come down heavy on the creaky wooden panels of flooring as he makes his way over to you, willing his heart rate down to normal as he does.

You, on the other hand, look like a perfect picture of a civilized lady. The vest you bought with the money from oh so generous Mr. Mallory fits snugly around your waist. Enough to be attractive, but not too enticing, that wouldn’t be very lady-like, of course. Your skirt hangs off the edges of your stool, covering any bit of skin that would leave the rather judgmental citizens of Valentine scoffing and tugging their daughters away from such a bad influence.

In short, you look innocent, something you’ve mastered after years of being the exact opposite.

You also look beautiful, something Arthur notices very clearly as his eyes sweep over your waiting figure. The saloon had few windows, flickering candlelight creating shadows that seemed to dance along your face. You can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your face at the relief on his upon finding you awaiting him.

He walks over slowly enough, not too eager, although the way his fingers rap along the leather brim of his hat tell you otherwise, the the dull tapping the only sound made between the two of you as he sits on the stool beside you.

You break the silence, seeing as you’re the one who invited him here. “You came.” Is the only sentence you utter, his presence in front of you a little nerve inducing, if you’re being honest. You keep your voice at a low murmur, watching as he leans in ever closer to hear you better.

He nods slowly, and you watch his lips move as his gruff voice sounds. “I’ve learned enough not to keep a lady waiting.” The smile on your face only grows at his words as you examine every detail of him that your previous meetings were too short to notice.

His honey-colored hair is choppy, only a few tufts growing long enough to brush along his forehead. Tanned skin shows little crows feet by the corners of his eyes, ones that you assume are from years of squinting against the desert sun rather than laughter. His eyes are just as entrancing as the day you met, swirling shades of blue and green trapping you like a moth to flames. Stubble adorns the lower half of his face, the only spot untouched a little scar on his chin.

The most noticeable thing is that Arthur Morgan is handsome, distractingly so. The sleeves of his faded blue shirt are rolled up to reveal the strong build he has underneath, a sheen of sweat across his forearms.

Your eyes snap back up to his face to find a rather cocky smirk waiting for you, a clear sign that your admiration hadn’t gone unnoticed. You don’t mind too much, seeing as his didn’t either. After the pregnant pause you find your voice again, enough to respond to his little quip. “Good choice, Mr. Morgan.” You watch as shock flits across his gaze for a moment at your knowledge of his full name.

It’s a small victory, but impressing him once again fills you with a bit of pride. “Now, about that train.” You begin carefully, not wanting to abandon the small talk too forwardly.

After all, men can have such fragile little egos.

Although, it seems Arthur had been waiting for you to bring it up, his eyes lighting up at the thought of a good job. He nods, waiting for finer details than what he found in your letter.

It seems as if the train is on a scenic trip through the countryside. Giving all the stuck up rich folk from the big city what they think is a taste of western life. All from the from the safety of a train, of course. After all, what would they do if mud disgraced the bottoms of their fine, imported shoes? It couldn’t be further than the reality of living out here, but you imagine they don’t care to know what it’s really like. They never do, it’s all about if something looks nice.

For a moment you find yourself thinking they’d like the sight in front of you then, too. He’s certainly easy on the eyes, but you try not to linger on that thought too long.

You receive only nods and the occasional “mhm” as he listens, sipping a beer as he does. Once you’ve finished explaining he looks confused for a moment, and you wonder if getting him involved with this was a mistake. The question that leaves his mouth next certainly isn’t what you expected. “I’ve seen you work. You’re good, so why do you think ya need me on this?” He asks, his southern drawl hushed to avoid any gaining any listeners.

You can’t help but blush as little as you look down, a lock of hair falling in front of your face. The truth is, you don’t need him. You could do this job yourself and be out in no time. Sure, two people might get it done faster, but working with an outlaw as known as Arthur comes with it’s own slew of risks.

The truth is, you wanted to see him again. For some foolish, girlish reason, you did. Enough that the payout wasn’t the first thing you thought of upon hearing about this job.

It was him.

You clear your throat a bit, resisting the urge to look away again when you see a certain glint in his eyes. You’ve seen it before, on different men, on different days. The only difference is they were all, well, them.

Dull, cookie cutter versions of the same man over and over. No cracks in the surface, nothing to strike your interest. So dreadfully un-ordinary that they could all be clumped into the same category of men trying to be what they assumed you would be attracted to.

Perfect.

It’s not as if you know Arthur well. Some would argue you don’t know him at all. Maybe it’s foolish of you to think he’s different simply because he’s not so eager to take a step into the new world. Void of outlaws and freedom, of wild land untouched by gluttonous men who believe that it’s something to be owned, dominated.

Void of people like you and him, living with the land rather than atop it. Maybe it’s because in him, you see that fire that everybody seems to be trying so hard to extinguish.

And so, you answer honestly, because lying to him is something you’re not sure you want to do. “I don’t need you, Arthur. As shocking as this might seem, I’ve found I rather like your company.” The smile on his face is mirrored on yours quickly, brightened cerulean eyes watching you over the rim of a beer bottle.

He’s a smart man, so your answer didn’t exactly come as a shock. Still, hearing it brought a certain flush to his face he hasn’t felt in years. The sound of your voice is still just as sweet as it was the very first day when you speak again.

“So, are you in?” He smirks, a devilish kind of excitement on his face.

You know you shouldn’t, he’s trouble. It’s as clear as day. But that look sends your stomach fluttering like a teenage girl.

“Course’, miss.”

It’s a bad idea to involved with the likes of him, but you can’t seem to find your reason as a smirk grows on your face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night. Meet me at the train station.” As you stand to leave, you can feel his eyes follow you to the door, just like the last time you met, and just like the time before that.

You can’t help but throw one last glance over your shoulder at the figure watching you, smirking as he brings the bottle up to his lips.

“Goodbye, Arthur.”

A/N: JENDHWJSGDHWGDHEBHEHD

(i love him sm)

- di <3