#I bet you haven’t seen anything more delightful today

[season-77]

Something’s already been said about this today, but why talk about it when you can watch it again, and then again, and again, and again… and again?

[little-peril-stories]

Whumptober 2023, Day 22: "Watch out!"

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Read at your own risk! They're only snippets of a larger story, with no resolution that will be posted online anytime soon; they are being posted out of order; and the characters don't have names. Enjoy!

Contents: no whump lol

Masterlist | Next

Word count: 1350 || Approx reading time: 6 mins

"Watch out!"

Teaser: “Oh, I know you,” she said. Something about the words sent tingles down his spine.

“The heart wants what it wants.”

“Where are you taking me?”

She stared up at the towering library, her cheeks flushed from the sweltering heat. The scholar, too, was hot in the summer sun, and he was certain she regretted following him to a place where even the shady trees on the library grounds could not dispel the heavy warmth that lay over the city like a blanket.

“It’ll be worth it,” he assured her, wiping sweat from his face. “I promise.”

“It better be,” she said. The words were sharp, but her tone was airy, and she was smiling. He beckoned her forward, stepping through the heavy wooden doors that led into his favourite place in the world. An entire palace he’d had as a playground when he was a child, but it was this building, this library, that felt like home.

“So, this view of the ocean you promised me,” she said, “it’s a picture in a book, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?” For a moment, he feared she would spin around and leave, but she didn’t, and he relaxed. If anything, she seemed relieved to be in cool air, a respite from the humidity. She sighed softly as they walked toward the staircase, their footsteps like whispers.

“Oh, I know you,” she said. Something about the words sent tingles down his spine.

He led the way at a languid pace, taking each step slowly—partially because he wanted to savour every moment they spent together and partially because he didn’t want to be winded when they got to the top.

“Are we going to the roof?” She figured it out two-thirds of the way up; he should have known she would. When he nodded, delight crossed her features—the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. “How do you even know how to get up there?”

He thought back to his days as a student, to the long hours he and his classmates had spent avoiding their studies and watching the sunset from the highest point they could get to without getting chased away by angry lawkeepers. “You’d be surprised by the things people will do if it means avoiding studying for an exam.”

She laughed, the pealing-bell sound ringing through the air. “Did you have to take a lot of exams?”

“A few. The first two years, anyway. It was a lot of reading and writing by the end.”

“Hmm,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You haven’t been outside in years, have you?”

“I think that’s a little hyperbolic.”

She glanced up at him, brows furrowed, repeating the word more slowly.

“Sorry,” he said, his face heating. “I meant, it’s an exaggeration.”

But she smiled and said, “Don’t be sorry. You’re a teacher. I just didn’t realize I was one of your students.”

“You mean you’re not only here for my impressive vocabulary?”

“Well, now you’ve found me out. That’s the only reason I came along today.”

He watched her out of the corner of his eye; she was doing the same to him. “I feel so used.”

She pursed her lips, stifling a giggle, and began—to his eternal horror—to take the steps two at a time. “Come on!” She shook her head at his reluctance. “Your legs are long enough. You should be at least one floor ahead of me.”

“Aspirational,” he mumbled, “and highly unrealistic.”

“You think I can do three?”

The panic-inducing image of her falling and breaking her neck came to mind. “Please don’t.”

“I bet I can,” she said, and jumped.

Annoyingly, she could leap up the steps three at a time, which was bad news, because after her first success, she kept it up, and the scholar had to suffer through a frantically palpitating heart each time he thought she might fall.

“You don’t want to try?”

“I’d like to stay alive,” he replied, making her roll her eyes, but he gave it a try, taking a wide step as calmly as he could, clearing all three steps.

“Show-off.”

He smiled down at his feet and hoped he wouldn’t somehow trip over them before they made it to the roof.

Relief swept through him when they arrived—not at having survived the walk, although that was a positive thing, but for another reason entirely.

They hadn’t missed it.

“Watch out,” he said automatically, eyeing her as she climbed over the extra-tall step from the stairs to the roof. “We’re pretty high up.”

She sent him a look that said, You worry too much, but he didn’t mind. She could find him as annoying as she pleased. As long as she didn’t plummet to her death, he could bear a bit of good-natured scorn.

“Looks like the area’s still in use,” she said, pressing a hand to her mouth to hide a laugh and raising her eyebrows at the unsightly selection of detritus left behind by some very untidy and inconsiderate students—bread crumbs, an old chicken bone that had been picked clean, a questionable-looking spill, and glittering shards of broken glass. “There’s definitely no studying happening around here.”

“No,” he agreed, mortified now to have brought her to such a mess. “Although…there never was to begin with.”

“Never took you for a party person,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

He wasn’t, which he reaffirmed, and with a chuckle, she moved away from the door, heading toward the railing that separated her from the sky above and the city below.

“I see what you mean about the view.” Her words drifted on the breeze, but he caught them—snatched up that gentle voice that could soothe even the most furious of tempers. He imagined each sound floating on the wind like shaken petals, like pearly raindrops, like stardust. “It’s beautiful.”

Yes.

“Wait until the sun sets,” he said. He had to clear his throat before he spoke.

She turned back to look at him with her clear-eyed gaze, shaking the silk sheet of her hair, making it glow red in the light of the sinking sun. “Aren’t you going to come see?”

“I can see from here,” he said.

“Oh, that’s a translation I know,” she said with a grin. “I’m afraid of heights.”

“Incorrect,” he said as heat swept his face.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t want to get too close to the edge. I was close enough.” She held out her hand. “I won’t let you fall.”

How could he say no?

“You still came here for your wild parties, even though you’re scared of being up so high?” The grasp of her fingers tingled for a moment. He ordered himself to calm his racing heart.

“I mean, I just came up with everyone else.” He shrugged. “And stayed away from the railing.”

She lifted his hand and placed it gently against the barrier, letting go—but resting hers next to his, close enough that he could still feel the shivering, lightning-bolt warmth of her skin. “I promise not to push you off.”

“I was unaware that was something you were considering.”

“Only when you use words I don’t know. Like hyperbolic.”

“What if I promise to translate them right away?”

“No, it’s all unforgivable, I’m afraid. Just not death penalty, pushed off a building unforgivable.”

He had to check her expression to make sure she was still only teasing. She was waiting for his glance, as if she expected him to be unsure, and she laughed when she caught his gaze.

The ocean sparkled in the distance. In truth, the scholar had come up here with the other university students due to social pressure and nothing else, but the promise of the gleaming sunset over the crashing blue-and-white waves had drawn him back every time he told himself he’d never again subject himself to the horror of a late-night “studying” session that never involved a single minute of studying. It had made the pain of loud shouts, raucous drinking games, almost-fights, and near-topples off the library roof worth it.

From the way she froze, gasping, as the sunset reached its fiery red-and-gold peak on the horizon, she agreed.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she breathed.

Neither have I.

Masterlist | Next

[fruit-salad-ship]

for those wondering what could possibly push peach to bolt from the island.

The day had started as any on the Island, wake up early, feed a bunch of Pokemon, start the rounds, run a few activities, handle some clients, no big deal. How it turned into the chaos that currently consumed the docks however, was a mystery to Grey, who had a back row seat as a number of strong looking individuals addressed the people, telling them to be quiet, don’t do anything rash or brave. They commanded attention, at threat of his pokemon opening fire on the crowd he’d gathered. His lackeys hounded visitors, pokemon and staff to one central point, all of them confronted with gnarled pokemon that the thugs utilised in seemingly cruel ways, the language used with them was so aggressive. The crowd was restless, frozen in terror every time one of them moved, the nervous energy within the area uncanny. Grey had considered all the options, there were a million protocols in place to stop this happening, but somehow this guy got past them all, a near impossible feat. He must have had intel. With hostages, there was nothing that could be done as of yet, he just had to hold his breath and wait, try to comfort those around him, stay strong. Peach would figure something out, she could stop this, and was no doubt rounding up just the right crew to do so. There was a murmur, a couple of shouts, as a few people down at the front of the crowd saw something approach. A man, broad, tall, shrouded in a sporty dark coloured, modern looking cloak of some kind, lumbered over with confident strides, heavy footfall as he took a stand atop a raised concrete stepped area. It was not so much him that got the crowd shouting, some in worry, others in fear, outrage, it was what, or more aptly who he was dragging behind him. Grey’s heart tightened, he scanned the crowd below, clocking a pair of eyes that were staring right back at him, Plum down at the front, an expression he’d never seen on her face before, as the intimidating man stopped dead ahead, centre of attention, raising his arm with seemingly no effort, hanging from a tight grip, a familiar pink haired professor who already dripped with blood from a quite significant head wound, still swinging mind you, with a fierce look across her features. She tried to hook her leg over his arm, and get some leverage, but the man was fast, raising her higher briefly, eyes wide with fury, before slamming her body down to the ground with brute force. Grey bolted for the front, pushing through the crowd, beside Plum in a heartbeat, but the henchmen who rallied all the crowd got between him and the woman who lay pretty still on the floor. If it weren’t for their pokemon, Grey would have jumped the steps and taken him on himself, but there were too many civilians. The Leader, this hulking man who had dragged Peach to the front, eyes Grey, both their stares intense. A trio of Charizard opened their gnarled maws to reveal rows of teeth, some gold capped, their throats a white hot colour. “Don’t test me. Theres a lot of people here who would die today if you make any rash moves.” The antagonist gestured to an old man, a young couple, a set of kids not too far away, absentmindedly waving his hand as if their lives meant nothing, dead eyed, reminding Grey who had the power here. “I simply want to talk to my dear cousin, and I think you’d all appreciate the topical conversation too!” Almost jolly, he seemed unhinged, Peach’s body finally moving as he looked down to her, struggling, groaning quietly as she pushed forward to sit up in a slouched position. His outstretched hand pointed right to her. “You…This is your cousin?” Grey was looking directly at her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead, her gaze settled firmly on the man before her, who sneered in delight at the situation. He knew what he was doing. “Oh, oh this is wonderful. You didn’t tell him did you? I’d be willing to bet you haven’t told anyone!” His hand reached for Peach with force, yanking her to a standing position, you could see her face was pained, something in her no doubt cracked, bruised, she wasn’t wearing any gear, he’d clearly

caught her off guard. Last Grey knew, she was over in the eastern fields tending to some new species of medicinal herbs, calm work. She wasn’t ready for this. “Let me introduce myself, I’m Robbie, my friends call be Rob, and this little thing here, well, she use to call me Roro. I’m sure you’re all as charmed as I am to be here! So many curious faces in the crowd.” His grip on the woman squeezed her tightly into a very forceful, clearly fake side hug, his body lowered to be closer to her height, beaming a smile that made Plum’s blood run cold just seeing. Peach however, did not look up from the floor, not once. “We grew up in a wonderful family home, not far from Sinnoh, just across the boarders, ran a quaint little farm, lived a quiet life, worked hard!” The guy paused mid smile, straightened up, turning from the crowd as his expression turned sour, towards Peach, who looked away more, in no position to do anything, too much at stake, too many lives on the line. “Is that what you fed them? Some bullshit about a peaceful household? Ordinary salt of the earth people?�� His grip on her shoulder squeezed so tight, it forced a wince out of her, you could see his knuckles whiten, as he kept going, kept tightening until she couldn’t take it anymore, trying to get away from the hold, only to be kicked down to her hands and knees, close enough for a second, making the mistake of looking up to see Grey, Plum, both pained with fear, they were just close enough to reach out, to almost touch her hands, bloodied and split in many places. “Let me tell you the real truth about your professor Peach, the only viable heir to our name, to the family business!” The crowd looked confused, anxious, they all knew her as Peach, nothing more. Even Plum and Grey, who knew her for so long, did not know what was going on. The brute of a man held his arms above his head in a triumphant gesture, before dragging the professor back up to her feet, looming over to keep her in his shadow. Desperation started to creep onto her face, one eye starting to stein red from the bleeding head wound seeping into it, still streaking down her face. “Robbie-don’t please-“ “No! You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore! I’m in charge.” His grimace snapped to a grin as he turned from Peach to the crowd, “You see folks, you’ve been letting an Arbok into your homes, you let her worm her way into your lives-“ His eyes locked onto the two staff, Plum and Grey, in the front row, “You let her into your hearts…” he seemed to soften his gaze, glaze over a second, but it quickly got shoved aside in favour of turning to strike Peach hard, a punch right to the kidney area, that crumpled her to the ground in a heap

“She lied to you all you know. Our home, our family, we raise pokemon for war, for killing things, anything their trainer might want! We don’t even care, so long as they pay us enough for the goods! And her?” His hand grabbed her face with force, making her look at the crowd, through gritted teeth, blood, sweat. “She’s had her hand in it for 15 years! Before she bolted from her stint at the Ranger academy, she was complicit with the whole thing!” Murmurs in the crowd started to travel in waves across the area, whispers that seeped into the woman’s head and settled in like a wound, already threatening to rot, to fester. “I-its not like that…” she managed to stutter out, her life was starting to unravel around her, nerves setting in. “No? Whats it like then? Tell everyone here, we’d all so love to know, did you, or did you not take part in the removal of the weak stock? Did you not stand there with that stupid Vulpix of yours, and do what we all did? A right of passage, right? You pulled the trigger on those pokemon as much as any of us-“ “You know that’s not what we had to do Rob, fuck you! They made us and you know it! Not my fault you were a psycho who enjoyed it-!” Her shouts got cut short as he connected a kick right to the ribs that put her in the fetal position on the floor, curled up so tight. You could see it took the wind right out of her.

“Don’t let her keep lying to you, she’s not like you people, you can pretend all you like, but deep down its in her blood. Your shining pillar of the community is nothing but a filthy killer, something evil-“ He met her gaze, pain and anger mixed in amongst the blood as she just began to recover from the boot. “Something just like me.” The crowd was wildly uneasy, Grey and Plum both torn, wanting to help, but knowing it was a dangerous game to play. Was it true? While Plum knew very little about her in comparison, she had at least thought peach would mention something like that, or at least not say her upbringing was a good one? Grey on the other hand felt a tiny crack form, a cold, painful chip that hurt his heart. 10 years, and she couldn’t bring herself to tell him? Lied about every personal detail no doubt, to cover up that doozy of a bombshell. Robbie, pleased with the scene he had created, watching peoples opinions flicker and change, crouched ahead of his cousin, for the first time in a long time, her body recoiling, a lack of strength evident in how she cowered from his hand. It lay gently on her shoulder, a smile set on his face. “You get to watch this all fall apart, I hope running away from your responsibility was worth it.” The tall man stood again eyes unwavering from his family member for a moment, before he turned to his crew, whistled loudly, as they all mounted up on the backs of large scaled flying pokemon, diving off the dock front, taking flight towards the mainland.

All the professor wanted to do, was let the ground open up, and finish the job Robbie had started. Once they left, and it was safe, Grey leapt to her side, Plum following behind, though she was hesitant. There was hardly an inch of the woman’s skin that hadn’t been scraped or muddied by her own blood, every touch from her colleagues was painful, every motion ached like she’d been hit by an Aggron head on. Some staff managed to snap out of the events sudden burst of information, ushering people away from the area, giving visitors and lesser staff members words of encouragement and support. A few passed by Grey, a reassuring hand on his shoulder, a hesitant look towards the woman who was trying to get up, wouldn’t make any eye contact with anyone at this point, her entire body battered, broken in places. “It’ll be ok, we…we can work this out.” Plum tried to be reassuring, but peach didn’t hear it, her mind was consumed by the thought of what to do, where to go, how to get away from the island as fast as possible. People said words at her, but none of them registered, she was riddled with pain, could hardly focus on anything more than what was necessary, which to her, was leaving. Fast.

[therealvinelle]

I've always wondered this, but what do you think the Cullen's political viewpoints would be, given their individual backgrounds? if vampires don't change after they turn, then surely they would all be extremely racist (especially Jasper). would this not come up at some point? they aren't like the Volturi because the Volturi are too old to care, but the Cullens are young enough that they have been brought up with opinions on stuff like sexism, racism, homophobia and the like.

Oh fuck.

You get an early answer because otherwise I'll just chicken out and delete this one, pretend I never saw it.

UMMM.

Since I'm guessing you meant American political viewpoints, we need a disclaimer. I am not American, and not too knowledgeable about your politics. Not just in the sense that I don't follow the day-to-day drama, but as I am not an American citizen there are several things I don't know, can't know because I've never lived in your country and therefore can't know what the effects of living in a country ruled by American policies is like. What I do know is based off of the news in the foreign section, social media (by which I mean tumblr posts), and Trevor Noah's Daily Show.

I am an outsider looking in.

Which is really rather appropriate, since the Cullens are too.

The Cullens go to high school and college, Carlisle works, they pay taxes, they own real estate, and submerge themselves in American culture. Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella are young enough that this is in many ways their world, and apart from timeouts they've more or less spent their entire lives, human and vampire, integrated into American society.

Not fully integrated, mind you, they do what they need to to fit in and get to school or, in Carlisle’s case, to work. They go no further. No extra-curriculars for the kids, no book clubs for Esme, no game nights for Carlisle. They walk parallel to humans, not among us.

In addition to this they're obscenely rich, which puts them another thousand miles from the experiences of your average American. They won't deal with the health system, which means healthcare is a non-issue, they're not going to need welfare or other social programs, unemployment is another non-issue. Name your issue, and the Cullens don't have personal stake in it. Even the climate crisis won't be a problem for them the way it will for us.

What I'm trying to say is, American political issues are a concept to them, not a lived reality. Just like they are for me. So hey, you made a great choice of blog to ask.

I'll also add here that you say the Volturi are too old to care, and I agree- from an ancient's point of view, racism is a matter of "which ethnicity are we hating today?", and it all looks rather arbitrary after a while. Same with every other issue - after a while it all just blends together into "what are the humans fighting over today? Which Christian denomination is the correct one? Huh. Good for them, I guess."

I can't put it any better than this post did, really. The Volturi are real people, humans are nerds and tumblr having Loki discourse. Aro thinks it's delightful and knows entirely too much about Watergate (and let's be real, Loki discourse as well), but the point I wanted to get at is that politics really don't matter to vampires.

And I don't think they matter to the Cullens either.

So, moving on to the next point while regretting I didn't put headlines in this post, I'll just state that I don't think vampires' minds are frozen. Their brains are unable to develop further, and they can never forget anything, but... well, this isn't the post for that, but in order for this to be true of vampires they would barely be sentient. They would not be able to process new impressions, to learn new things, nor to have an independent thought process. Yes, we see vampires in-universe (namely, Edward, who romanticizes himself and vampires) believe they're frozen and can never change, but there is no indication that this is a widespread belief, or even true. Quite the contrary - Carlisle went from a preacher's son who wanted to burn all the demons to living in Demon Capital for decades and then becoming a doctor and making a whole family of demons. Clearly, the guy has had a change in attitude over the years. Jasper, in his years as a newborn army general, slowly grew disenchanted with his life and developed depression. James initially meant to kill Victoria and hunted her across the earth, then became fascinated and changed his mind about it.

Had these people been incapable of change, Carlisle would still be hating demons, Jasper would be in Maria's army, and James would still be hunting Victoria.

It goes to follow, then, that they are able to adapt to new things.

The question is, would they?

Here I finally answer your question.

So, we have these people who don't really have any kind of stake in politics, who keep up to date all the same (or are forcibly kept up to date because high school) and are generally opinionated people.

Where do they then fall, politically?

(And this is where you might want to stop reading, anon, because I'm about to eviscerate these people.)

Alice votes for whoever's gonna win. She also makes a fortune off of betting each election. Trump's 1 to 10 victory in 2016 was a great day to be Alice. MAGA!

The actual policies involved are completely irrelevant, she does this because it's fun. Election means she gets to throw parties. Color coded parties for the Republican and Democratic primaries, and US-themed parties for Election Night! (Foreigner moment right here: I at first wrote "Election wake" before realizing that's not what y'all murricans call it.)

Alice loves politics. Doesn't know the issues, but she sure loves politics.

Bella votes Democrat. She actually knows about the issues, and cares about them. This girl is a Democrat through and through.

Carlisle doesn't vote. I can't imagine it feels right. Outside of faked papers he's not a US citizen, this is meddling in human affairs that he knows don't concern him.

More, this guy has never lived in a democracy.

In life, Carlisle lived under an absolute monarchy that, upon civil war, became an absolute theocracy. From there he learned that vampires live under a total dictatorship.

For the first 150 years of his life, democracy was that funky thing the Athenians did in history books thousands of years ago, no more relevant to him than the Ancient Egyptian monarchy is to me. Then the Americans, and later other European countries started doing this.

Good for them.

There's this mistake often made by those who view history from a... for lack of a better term, a solipsistic standpoint. A belief that the present day is the culmination of all of history. “My society is the best society, the most reasonable society; all the others had it backwards. Thank god we’re living in this enlightened age!”

The faith in our current system of government is one such belief. We (pardon me if this doesn’t apply to everybody reading this post) have grown up in democracies, being told this is the ultimate form of rule, and perhaps that is true - but remember the kings who have told their subjects they had were divine and the best possible ruler based on that. Remember also that most modern democracies haven’t actually been democracies for very long at all, America is the longest standing at some 230 years (not long at all in the grand scope of things) and they have a fracturing two-party system to show for it.

Every society, ever, has been told they’re the greatest, and their system of government the most just. Democracy is only the latest hit.

This is relevant to Carlisle because he’s immortal and decidedly not modern. Democracy has not been installed in him the way it was the rest of the Cullens, Jasper included. To him- well, it’s just not his world. He has no stakes in our human politics, and as he is older than every current democracy and has seen quite a few of them fall, he’s not going to internalize the democratic form of rule the way a modern human has.

I think the concept of voting is foreign to him.

It requires a level of participation in human society that he’s simply not at. He does the bare minimum to appear human so he do the work he loves, but nothing more, and I find that telling.

As it is I think he'd be iffy about his family doing it. He won’t stop them, but in voting they’re... well it’s kind of cheating. They’re not really citizens, none of this will affect them, and by voting they’re drowning out the votes of real human voters. He does not approve.

Edward votes Democrat. He's... well he’s the kind of guy who will oil a girl’s bedroom window so he can more easily watch her sleep without being discovered, justifying it to himself as being okay because if she were to tell him to get lost he’d stop immediately. Same guy is so sure that he’d leave and never return again if she wanted him to, except this is the man who returned to Forks to hang around his singer, knowing there was a significant chance he might kill her. To say nothing of his Madonna/Whore complex, or of the fact that he tried to pimp out his wife twice, and was willing to forcibly abort her child.

This guy is very much in love with chivalry, with being an enlightened and feminist man who supports and respects women, while not understanding the entire point of feminism, which is female liberation.

He votes Democrat because he’s such an enlightened feminist who cares about women’s rights.

Emmett doesn’t care to vote, but if he has to he votes Republican. The guy is from the 1930′s, and has major would-be-the-uncle-who-cracks-racist-jokes-if-he-was-older vibes.

Esme doesn’t vote, that would require getting out of the house.

More, I just... can’t see it. I can’t see her being one to read up on politics and The Issues, period, but if she has to then I doubt she’d be able to decide.

Jasper doesn’t vote. Alice can have her fun, he does not care.

There’s also the whole can of worms regarding the last time he went to bat for American politics.

I imagine he stays out of this.

Renesmée doesn't vote. She has no stock in the human affairs. Who would she vote for, on what grounds? When Bella tries to pull her to the urns, she points out that she's three years old.

Rosalie, guys, I’m sorry, but that girl is definitely gonna vote Republican. Perhaps not right now as it’s become the Trump party of insanity, but the Mitt Romney type of Republicans? Oh yes.

And for the record, yes I imagine she does vote. To step back from politics would be another way she was relinquishing her humanity, and that’s not allowed to happen. So, yes, she goes to the urns, less for the sake of the politics involved and more because like this, she’s still a part of society in some way.

Now, onto why I think she’s Republican, I think it’s both fiscal and social.

This girl was the daughter of a banker who somehow profited off of the Depression, and who then became part of a family with no material needs that would soon become billionaires thanks to Alice. Poverty to Rosalie is a non-issue, as it is I imagine she views it as a much lesser issue than what she’s had to deal with. The humans can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Rosalie’s infertility is forever.

Rosalie’s empathy is strongest when she’s able to project onto others, and she won’t be able to project onto the less fortunate at all.

Then there’s the fact that the Republican party is all about traditional family values, and pro-life.

Rosalie, a woman from the 1930′s who idolizes her human life and who‘d love nothing more than to get to live out this fantasy, is down for that. And as of Breaking Dawn she’s vocally pro-life, so there’s that.

This all being said I don’t think Rosalie cares to sit down and fully understand these politics she’s voting for, the possible impact they’ll have- that’s not important. What’s important is what voting does for her.

TL;DR: I bet anon regrets asking.

[thefanficmonster]

Sweet Tooth

Corpse Husband x Asian Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Tooth-rotting (😉) Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse isn’t one to have a big preference or craving for sweet, sugary treats. In fact, he’d even go as far as to say he’s not at all a fan of candy. Well, much to his yet to be known delight, his partner Y/N takes that as a personal challenge.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request! So sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it despite the long time that’s passed. If you do, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤ 

“Hey guys! Welcome back to my channel!“ Y/N gives the camera a wave and blows it a quick kiss with their lips stretched in a delighted grin. They clap their hands together, turning to look at their guest who’s sitting in a chair on their right, his face covered with a sticker in the final cut of the video that their viewers have the opportunity of watching. “Ok, before we address the elephant in the room, I’m gonna ask the elephant himself not to move his head too much cause this is already gonna take a long time to edit, the last thing I need is to animate that sticker over your face to follow your movement.“

“Got it, babe.“ A deep voice replies obediently, earning an approving hum in response. However, just as Y/N’s about to turn to face the camera again, the mysterious - ok, not THAT mysterious - guest leans down and plants a kiss on their cheek.

“Brat!“ They squeal as they turn to glare at the person with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t appear bothered at all, chuckling as he wraps his arms around them in an attempt to soften them up. Sadly, his tries fall through as they proceed to ignore his affection instead of reciprocating it for the sake of being petty, “Everyone, this is my boyfriend Corpse.“

“Hello, I am hand.“ Corpse says, slowly waving his hand at the camera, “I shall be your entertainment tonight.“

“Oh this is no entertainment, I have a point to prove here.“ Y/N argues, breaking free from his arms before they bend down to pick up one of the two boxes that are resting by their feet. “You see, Corpse and I got in a bit of a scrap last night...“ they trail off, distracted by the contents of the box that’s now resting on their lap.

“I didn’t think me admitting to not liking sweet stuff would provoke such a dramatic reaction from Y/N but here we are.“ He interferes, lifting a finger in the air as though that will help him be heard better or would protect him in case his partner decided to go off at him.

Y/N just ignores his input yet again, continuing to address the camera, aka their audience, “So as you guys may or may not know, my mom’s Korean and my dad’s Japanese. Since they live in their respective countries for work purposes, that means I’m always one phone call - and a little bit of a wait - away from Korean and Japanese snacks at all times. I’m a person who constantly has a snack by their side so you can bet I make that phone call often. However, about a week ago, I made that call specifically for candy, the brands I was obsessed with as a kid. I don’t know what came over me but I think it was my fortuneteller sense kicking in because this mister over here decided to CASUALLY bring up the fact that he doesn’t like candy.” They turn to glare at him before continuing, “Anyways, so luckily, the package arrived only recently so I haven’t had the time to tear open all the candy and eat it all by myself as I was planning to. That being said, today I’ll be in introducing Corpse to the world of Japanese and Korean candy - a tighter circle of it, to be specific: the candy I grew up with.” They finally turn to Corpse again, the look on their face significantly different and a lot more pleasant compared to the one they gave him a bit ago. “So, how are you feeling, babe? Are you excited?”

Although the man’s face is blocked to the viewers, Y/N can still see him and they are pretty damn close to bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “I don’t know how to feel, actually. I know you have peculiar taste so it’s either gonna be a fun experience or I’m gonna very displeased with what you’ll have me try.“

Y/N rolls their eyes, “Trust me, you won’t be.” They put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, only half humoring his nervousness, “You’ll only be trying six on camera, but my parents sent a ton more which you��ll be able to try later, ok? It was really hard for me to pick only six favorites by I don’t need this video crossing the twenty minute mark.”

With a heavy-hearted sigh, Corpse finally brings himself to rip the band-aid off and get this adventure started. “Ok cool, but don’t surprise me with anything, please. Show me what you had in mind to have me try so I can, you know, prepare myself.”

Y/N, who was busy taking out packets of candy just a moment ago suddenly stops in their movements to give him a look of disbelief, “You know none of these are poisonous, right? Like, I’m not trying to kill you or anything. There’s no cyanide, no rat poison...”

His laughter cuts them off, wrapping his arm around them and pulling them closer again, “I’m messing with you, babe. What you got for me?” He says, placing a quick kiss to their temple while sneaking a peek at the packaging of the candies they’re holding right now.

Wiggling a little looser in his grip, they first show him the three items before turning them to the camera, “These are from my mom, she sent them from Korea and they are triggering a massive wave of nostalgia right now, not gonna lie.” They giggle, adjusting the brightness a little so the products can be seen properly, “Ok so first we have the long biscuit sticks that come in many flavors but I asked for my favorite - green tea flavored, that is. Then we have Pumpkin Monaca which are probably one of my most favorite sweet treats of all time. I think you’re gonna really like them. And lastly from Korea we have these butter waffles which I used to eat for breakfast when I was running late for school - which happened often.”

Corpse snorts, “That doesn’t surprise me.”

His remark is overlooked as Y/N continues, now taking out three packets from the other package, “Now we’re moving on to my dad’s box. He didn’t disappoint either: we have soda-flavored jelly beans; Black Thunder chocolate bars which you’re only gonna steal one of because the rest are MINE; and last but definitely not least we have some classic milk candies.” Setting those down as well, they turn to Corpse yet again, this time giving his a mischievous smile that’s promising him trouble, “So, Mr. Corpse Husband, after this introduction, are you prepared to have your entire opinion o sweet food changed? And more importantly, are you prepared to develop an addiction to these treats?”

Corpse nods confidently, “Oh, I’m very prepared, thank you. Let’s just get on with it.”

Needless to say: boy, was he not as prepared as he thought he was.

It goes without saying Y/N proved their point and took the win today.

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[miyuwuki]

Hi there. Would you mind writing about Aomine and Kise from KNBA and Miukiy and Kuramochi with a fem s/o who has a very long hair but next day it was cut short ? Very short and shorter than the boys hair too. I just had mine cut and everything feels weird now but its refreshing 😅.

omg hi!! i bet you look so good with your new hair, anon! :D i love this idea!

warnings: none

KNB: aomine daiki x reader, kise ryouta x reader

DNA: miyuki kazuya x reader, kuramochi youichi x reader

new look

you figured it was time for a change— you’ve had your hair growing for years now, and you wondered what it would look like if it was cut short; and i mean short, almost in par with your boyfriend’s hair.

aomine daiki:

you were waiting for aomine after school since he had basketball practice. you twiddled with your thumbs, nervous of how he’d react to your new look. you knew he loved the sway of your long hair, but it was about time you cut it short. you’ve had a couple compliments from other students during the day, but what was important to you was aomine’s opinion.

“oi y/n, is that you?”

you looked up to see your boyfriend staring right down at you, grinning. “your hair’s nice.”

a blush formed across your cheeks, bringing your hand up to twirl the short locks between your fingers. “do you really like it, daiki?”

“it suits you. though i don’t think i have anything to pull on anymore..”

“daiki!”

“just kidding.” he joked, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in, “you look beautiful to me.” he kissed your forehead and then your lips, your emotions happy because your boyfriend loved your new hair.

“but i have to do something first, y/n.” he said lowly, a menacing smile appearing.

“what is it, daiki…”

he slapped your head instantly, and started running away.

“i like your cut, g!”

oh he was so going to get it later.

kise ryouta:

“y/n-cchi, your hair!!” kise yelled when you opened the door for him.

both of you guys planned a date for today, and you figured you’d cut your long hair, that you grew for a while now, short. you’ve always fantasized about it, and you’ll admit, you look pretty darn good.

you laughed at your boyfriend, who was shrieking at your new appearance. “what, you don’t like it ryouta?” you questioned, twirling your locks with your fingers. kise huffed and pulled you into a hug, blocking your airway through your nose and mouth. “ryouta honey, i can’t breathe..” you said, patting on his arms.

“you are too darn beautiful, y/n-cchi!! i have to keep you away from everyone else!” he whined, not letting go of your head. you softly pushed him away causing a pout leave his lips. you caught your breath and giggled at him, “don’t be silly, ryouta. we’ve been looking forward to this day since forever.”

suddenly, kise grabbed your hand and kissed it, leaving his lips on it for a while. your heart skipped a beat, warming up to kise’s affection towards you.

“then i guess i’ll have to show you off for today and let everyone know that you’re mine, hmph.”

miyuki kazuya:

ah, my heart’s beating so fast.

anxiety and nervousness started to fill your thoughts, overthinking about how miyuki would react to your hair. it was one of the hottest summers in tokyo, and your long hair just became a nuisance as it just stuck everywhere. once you chopped it off, you’ve never felt so refreshed.

but you knew miyuki liked running his fingers through your hair, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be upset. will he still think i’m pretty? you thought, your emotions going more to the melancholy side of the spectrum.

then, you heard the door open, hearing your boyfriend softly pant. “ah sawamura, what are you doing in my room?” miyuki asked, putting his things down. a vein popped in your head and you clenched your teeth, annoyed that he didn’t even recognize that it was you. does he think i’m sawamura? this idiot! you cussed to yourself.

“idiot kazuya, i’m not sawamura!” you said, turning around to face him. you pouted and crossed your arms across your chest, staring him straight in the eye. you let out a couple “grr’s,” but once he realized that it was you, his breath got caught in his throat. his eyes lingered on you for a while, ignoring your complaints and focusing on the person that was in front of him. he was in awe of how beautiful you were; i mean he always thought you were beautiful with your long hair, but this just made his heart bounce in ways he never knew it could.

you started to get uncomfortable under his gaze, wondering if he didn’t like your new haircut. that idiot, why is he staring so much? you coughed, interrupting his stare. “if you don’t like it just say so,” you huffed, looking away from his eyes. he made his way towards you and hugged you, bringing a hand to your head to scratch at your scalp a bit.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.” he says, playing a bit with your hair. “it looks so good on you.” you couldn’t help but smile at his profession, ecstatic to hear that your boyfriend loved the new hair as much as you did. your worries slowly left your head as you relaxed in his arms. “thank you, kazuya. it was way too hot for the long hair.”

“mm, i get that. but damn did you look like sawamura from the back.”

“keep talking and i’m not buying you a drink from the vending machine tomorrow.”

kuramochi youichi:

“did you see y/n’s new look?”

everyone was talking about that today since you decided to chop off your long hair; it was your own trait everyone knew you by, so a lot—or everyone— noticed your new cut. some of your classmates liked it, some of them didn’t— but you really couldn’t care less. this was your choice and you were happy with it.

but kuramochi didn’t know about this and was extremely confused when everyone was talking about it. he went up to miyuki, asking if he knew what everyone was talking about. “did you see y/n’s new hair? how come she didn’t tell me about it?” he asked, genuinely discombobulated at the whispers and rumours.

“apparently she cut it super duper short,” miyuki replied, flipping through the pages of the score book. “but i haven’t seen her.”

kuramochi quickly took his phone out to send you a quick text to come to his classroom until he heard his name being called.

“youichi!”

his eyes looked up from his phone and saw you at the door, hair cut short to the head, and styled perfectly in all the right places. he widened his eyes and a pink color blossomed across his cheeks.

“i’ve been looking everywhere for you!” you said, stomping into the classroom, “i bought you milk from the vending machine!” everyone in the classroom stopped talking and kept their eyes on you as you made your way towards your boyfriend.

“wow, y/n’s actually rocking that hairstyle.”

“she’s so cute!”

“y/n-chan is so pretty.”

soon enough, the whole classroom began to chatter again about your delightful appearance, a lot of compliments being thrown into the air. you bowed as a joke and said, “thank you guys!” you laughed and handed the canned milk to your boyfriend, “drink up, buttercup.”

he took the milk and wrapped his arm around you, looking at all his classmates one by one. “listen up, you can look but you must keep a distance. she’s mine.”

you giggled at your boyfriend’s reaction, happy that he liked the new hair on you. you tiptoed to give a kiss on his cheek, leaning into his side more.

“you’re so embarrassing, kuramochi.” miyuki sighed.

OMG I HAD LOADS OF FUN WRITING THIS! would love some feedback and thank you for the support my love! i hope you enjoy <:

[fatefulfaerie]

A Precious Find

A Happy August Birthday to @v1ser1on! I hope you like it! 

It seemed like just a few months ago.

It was a sorry excuse for Link’s forgetfulness, but it was true. The fact that an entire year had passed since the two reunited in Hyrule field was something Link hadn’t even considered until Beedle said it, Link’s mouth gaping and his face looking as if all the blood had been drained from it.

“Crazy that it’s been whole year since the castle was all cursed, huh?”

Yes, it was crazy. It was beyond crazy that Link and his love had enjoyed an entire year of peace, real, true peace. It seemed like a lifetime and a couple weeks all at once.

“Why, all my life the castle has been off limits.” Beedle didn’t seem to notice that Link was gazing into the distance, panic slowly rising near his ribcage. Link wasn’t sure if the pinging panic originated from his heart or his lungs. “Now it’s a treasure trove of riches that has boosted the economy full-throttle.”

Anniversary.

Their first anniversary and Link had to be across the land at the Rito stable. He came here to visit with the Rito elder, to go through the new trade routes and treaties that the former princess had laid out for him, herself absolutely having to stay behind and study the growth of a new variant of flora she had named after her father.

Did she know when she sent Link off that their anniversary was approaching, that in a few days time it would have been a year since they met lips and reacquainted breaths? Was she heartbroken?

“Beedle.”

It wasn’t until Link suddenly said the name of the traveling merchant that Link realized Beedle had kept talking. About what, Link had no idea. He almost felt guilty, but the deed was done.

“What do you have for sale today?”

Beedle’s expression changed to pure joy, pulling out his portable shelf and laying on top of it a few different items, some rushrooms, a few dead lizards, and a bundle of bomb arrows. Link pursed his lips and worry struck his heart like a bolt of lightning.

“Do you have anything more…” Link wasn’t sure how to word it without wearing his heart on his sleeve. “Precious?”

His relationship with the former princess of Hyrule was no secret, but he wasn’t ready to show the world how red his cheeks could get when thinking about her, wasn’t ready to be teased about something so important to him. He tried his best to keep his stoic stance, as if he were buying a standard bundle of arrows and not looking for something that was even a small fraction of her beauty.

“I do! As a matter of fact,” Beedle said, Link breathing a sigh of relief as Beedle took away the first three items and began to rummage into the depths of his pack. However, the first thing erased Link’s hope completely. It pulsed with red veins and Link was fairly certain that it was one of the five Lynel guts that Link had sold him over a year ago. Beedle placed it down on his portable shelf as if it were the rarest crystal. Although she might have taken some delight in researching it, he remembering her dissecting one not a month ago. It was nothing new and nothing special.

“Hard to find these anymore,” Beedle said, attempting to make the sale. “There haven’t been any Lynels in this land ever since the castle was accessible but you’ll find that these guts are a valuable commodity not only in brewing potent potions but also in exotic recipes. Why, I hear that the Gerudo even—”

“Beedle, I hate to interrupt you again, but when I said precious, I…”

Link hesitated. He leaned in closer.

“I kind of meant something one might give to a young lady,” Link said quietly. 

Something that might impress a former princess, who once had access to the finest jewels and all the guardian parts she could have ever wanted.

“Oh!” Beedle exclaimed, putting the Lynel guts away and this time really looking in his gargantuan pack. “I had no idea!”

Half of his body was in the bag by the time he finally said “Aha!”. 

“I didn’t think I would ever sell this,” Beedle said as he pulled out a necklace with a gold chain that eventually looped around a very small charm, a unique gem that Link had never before encountered. The sunset-pink hue matched no rupee, no ore, only matching the pastel shade of her cheeks when Link made her blush. Link’s fingertips grazed the jewel gently, marveling at how it caught the light.

“Unfortunately the apocalypse isn’t the best market for jewels,” Beedle explained. “People want to sell them, not buy them. When resources are scarce, a necklace just doesn’t measure up to a loaf of bread or a bundle of arrows. Perhaps selling this means that people have started to live again.”

“How much?” Link said weakly, the thought of giving it to his beloved overwhelming his otherwise serious nature.

“Three thousand,” Beedle said, Link looking up quickly with what Beedle thought was shock at such a high, high price. “I’m sorry but even diamonds are less rare than the rose quartz. My bet is that they were mined dry a long time ago. Someone like me finding it was just a streak of luck.”

Link shook his head.

“No, no,” he said. “There’s no need to apologize. The price is more than reasonable, I…I have enough rupees, it…it’s just so perfect.”

Beedle’s smile was more genuine than Link had ever seen it, although it did grow when Link handed him the rupees.

“What’s her name?” Beedle asked, handing over the precious necklace, that shimmered in the sunlight.

Link blushed at the thought, and the name he spoke in that moment was the one of the young lady that he rushed to afterwards, racing to the nearest shrine and hurrying back home to Hateno.

“Zelda.”

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 1

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. 

Chapter 2

Read on FF.net or AO3.

Helloooo, beautiful people. I’m so excited about this story! This is now the official first part of the series, so it’s a prequel to the three oneshots I’ve already posted. If you haven’t read them, no worries, you can read this just fine. If you want to, just know they all have an established relationship and will reference the past, so you may possibly get spoiled. 

I plan for this to have five or so chapters, so buckle up, and as always, happy reading!

You’ve been expecting more.

Maybe that’s the wrong perspective to have. It’s still the military, and it’s still your first day and sure, that’s exciting and all, but you’ve heard stories. People always describe their first day of training as absolutely terrifying, but life-changing. They say that the first day is the day all the baby-faced cadets realize they’re in over their heads. It’s an introduction to the rest of their lives. At least, that’s the case for the people who stay. If one can’t handle a verbal beating, how can they stand any chance against the titans? The first day changes everything.

This, however, isn’t life-changing. It’s not terrifying. It’s rather...dull.

To be fair, the man in front doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it either.

You’ve heard of him, of course you have. Even back within Sina, people talk. A newcomer, a gift from the walls, humanity’s savior. Recently joined the Survey Corp and yet already a lieutenant, a definite shoe-in for the next available section commander position. Apparently his origins are a bit of a mystery, but he’s either the long lost son of a rich merchant or he’s come from outside the walls themselves because it’s just impossible that any common person can possess the skills he’s rumored to have. You’re not sure you believe all of it - apparently he’s so fast that the titans can’t even see him coming? yeah, sure - and yet there’s just something about him that gives off a truly well-earned confident aura. That’s been the most exciting part so far, the chance to see him up close, to see that he’s actually real.

Still, since he began talking, Lieutenant Levi hasn’t once raised his voice. He hasn’t screamed at them all for being the weakest pieces of shit he’s ever seen. He hasn’t even told them about how they’re going to train to become snacks for the titans. It’s disappointing. You’ve been ready to stand your ground, to show you’re made of some tough stuff. That can’t happen when your trainer won’t even bother to strike fear into your heart. Where other people may be relieved, you are mourning this loss of the traditional military experience.

At the very least, he’s not the actual trainer. He started his speech with a complaint that their actual instructor was sick for the day so now he had the absolute pleasure to welcome dozens of new fucking brats to their new home and occupation. His words drip with venom and boredom - clearly, he didn’t join to do any of this. It’s beneath him. All in all, Lieutenant Levi seems rather...arrogant. Maybe it’s well-deserved. But you don’t have to like it.

As he walks up to people at random who shout out their bare identities, the lieutenant snaps out comments that seem like they’re meant to bully rather than to frighten.

“Your posture is shit.”

“Oh wow, I bet the titans will be real scared of your noodle arms.”

“And here I thought these villages would send their best and brightest. Instead they sent you.”

But you’re not one to let things get to you so easily. You have your fist balled to your chest proudly, ready to serve humanity. You’ve fought to get where you are, and now you’re really, actually standing here, with your new comrades besides you, and you couldn’t be more proud. A bright smile settles on your face. You will make the best out of this, no matter your humanity-saving trainer’s dour mood. 

Unfortunately, said humanity-saving trainer takes notice of your smile, and with his gaze locked on his new target, he walks up to you, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“What’s your deal?”

You straighten your back, snap to attention, and look directly ahead as you know is appropriate. “Cadet (F/N) (L/N), sir, from Stohess District!”

His expression doesn’t throw you off, despite it looking like he’s never been so irritated in his life. You know you haven’t done anything wrong (at least not yet), so him looking that pissed off must be an internal issue, nothing to do with you. You’re not any different than any of the other cadets that have introduced themselves.

“Cadet (F/N) (L/N),” he says as though he’s testing out a brand new curse word, with just a hint of mockery in his voice. “I didn’t ask for your name or where you were from. I asked what your deal was.”

Well what in the holy hells is that supposed to mean?

Is what you want to say, but instead you simply furrow your brows and ask curly. “Sir?”

“What the fuck are you so happy about?” he clarifies, annoyance displayed clearly on his face.

Well damn, no need to be so edgy. You aren’t necessarily required to be as serious as everyone else here, and smiling isn’t a crime last time you checked. But this is obviously Lieutenant Levi’s thing, to be snarky and mean, and the sooner you answer, the sooner he’ll move on and find a new victim. “Just happy to be here, sir.”

Your smile stays right where it is.

“Oh, is that it?” He stares at you, deadpan. “You like the thought of being eaten? Does the idea just make your day? Do you fantasize about it at night? Let it lull you to sleep?”

Your smile grows a little strained.

Passion aggression is nothing new. You grew up in Stohess, you’re used to your fair share of cattiness. The lieutenant must take lessons from the tea-sipping high class ladies you’d basically grown up with, because he reminds you of them vividly. Ironic, considering you thought the military would be an escape to a life that was real and included less passive bullshit. It’s that frustration at the similarity that makes your polite mask crack.

The response slips through your lips before you can stop yourself. “No, sir, but last night I did happen to dream of a trainer that was tough enough to handle one of his subordinates smiling.”

You can be catty too. 

The grounds become more silent than they already were. It’s as though everyone is suddenly holding their breath at this new confrontation, just waiting to see what the newly dubbed hope of humanity will do if someone matches his sass. The loud silence is what finally makes you just a smidge nervous - surely, they won’t kick you out on your very first day just because of a smart comment, right?

Impatient and a bit anxious, you finally allow yourself to look directly in his eyes, and you’re suddenly stricken by how grey they are. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone with grey eyes. They’re damn gorgeous. And there’s a hint of...something in them, and to your surprise it’s not rage. He looks calculatingly gleeful, as though he’s just been waiting for someone to say something back to him. He appears cruel and delighted all at once, and the contrast of it along with the striking silver hue is more personality than you’ve ever seen in someone’s eyes before.

It’s a breathtaking sight. You move in just a millionth of a centimeter to get a closer look -

And then he moves, lightning fast, reeling back and swinging his leg around to sweep your legs from under you. With a gasp, you hit the ground hard, head ringing and vision blurring for a few seconds. Your hair, which was loose around your shoulders, flies across your face, some of it entering your mouth. From above you, grey eyes are triumphant, looking down on you as though to ask whether or not that’s tough enough for you. You’d love to answer, but your head is throbbing and you can only let out a pathetic, confused noise that causes titters to spread throughout the room.

What the hell just happened?

You move to get up, but he’s quicker, slamming his foot down on your leg and holding you right where you are. For someone with such a short stature, he looks pretty damn tall from down here. Maybe this is the sight that the titans barely get to see before he slices through them. 

Everyone is watching, even if they’re not turning their hands. This is their entertainment today, and the fool has just made its move. The fool being you, of course. They’re all hungry to see how this will play out.

Your cheeks glow bright with embarrassment, but you are not going to waver. Not on the first day. This is what you wanted, right? You wanted someone who’d be a hardass, who’d strike fear in you and make this a day you’d never forget. Well, Lieutenant Levi is your wish come true.

“Please remove your foot, sir,” you muster as politely as you can, looking up at him icily.

He digs the heel of his shoe into your thigh to make a point, and maybe to see if you’ll cry out in pain. But you look him in his strange grey eyes and you only blink, a small smile returning to your face. Will he kick someone who’s already down?

The moment seems to last forever, and you briefly entertain the fantasy that time is freezing for him as much as it is for you.

And then it’s all broken - he takes his foot off and walks right by you, and the only words you’re spared after being humiliated are, “Tie your hair up, you look ridiculous.”

Thus goes your first meeting with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

____________________

Dinner that night is filled with chatter. It seems people have found their loyal companions pretty fast, and cliques are forming faster than a speeding bullet. 

Luckily, you don’t need to worry about making friends. Besides the fact that you’re charming and perfect (according to everyone else and definitely not just you), you joined the military with your best friend from childhood. Millie Shackel is every bit the Stohess lady you are, the Rose to your Maria, the jelly to your butter. It’s amazing how much two girls can bond over a shared hate for the lack of activity happening within their stuffy town.

You gnaw at the bread on your plate, squeezing your eyes shut in pain after a particularly hard bite makes the back of your head throb. Not for the first time, you place your hand gingerly on the back of your skull, confirming that there’s no blood pouring out.

“Shouldn’t have mouthed off,” Millie quips from across the table, looking at you amusedly.

“Thanks,” you mutter bitterly, abandoning the bread for now until the soreness goes away. “Didn’t think one stupid comment was going to make him go berserk on me.”

She laughs, confirming you sound every bit as stupid as you feel. “I don’t think that classifies as berserk. That was a superior putting you in your place.”

“Suck-up,” you accuse, eyes narrowed. She only rolls her eyes, and you bring the cup of water to your lips and begin simply guzzling it down when someone claps you on the back, making you choke.

You turn to glare, still coughing up water, at two guys behind you. The one who nearly killed you is tall, with hair the color of bananas, and he’s grinning with no regrets, the shameful bastard. The other one behind him looks apologetic, red-haired with pretty green eyes. He whacks his friend on the arm. “You idiot, you nearly sent her to the infirmary!”

“Oh, come on.” The tall guy slides next to you without permission, slinging an arm around you as though you’re the closest of chums. Back in Stohess, you’d have called for his execution or some shit. “Surely the girl who talked back to Lieutenant Levi can handle some water going down the wrong way.”

Millie does not look pleased at the intruder, and looks even more grouchy when his friend sits down next to her, albeit keeping a much more respectful distance. When you finally stop coughing violently, you shove the guy’s arm away.

“A-asshole, what the hell’s your problem?” 

“There’s no problem, kid.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “I just wanted to see the balls on you. Guess it was overexaggerated.”

“Obviously,” you snap, “I just talked back, I didn’t hop over the wall and kill a titan.”

“Regardless, good job with the way you handled it. The others are talking about you.”

Millie gives you a stern look. “Hear that? Now we’re the troublemakers.”

You shrug apologetically, and decide to take another crack at eating your bread. This time, it goes down easier, with only a light sting to remind you of the lieutenant’s cruelty. 

“I’m Stephen,” the redhead says with a shy smile, extending his hand. You shake it, then turn your gaze questioningly to the one next to you. He grins cockily, waiting for you to ask. You don’t.

“This is Ricky.” Stephen spoils his fun, sounding exasperated. 

“I assume you two are close.” Millie wrinkles her nose distastefully. You bite back a laugh - there’s that Stohess bitchiness that you love about her.

“We met this morning,” Ricky responds, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

The two of you warm up to the boys soon enough. Ricky is rather friendly when he’s not trying to steal your food thinking you won’t notice, and Stephen is downright sweet, his emerald eyes brightening when you ask him where he’s from. He goes off on a ramble about his village which is somewhere smack dab in the middle of the land within Wall Rose. Apparently their local stew is the best there is. You privately disagree; nothing quite tastes like the stew they make in the Orvud District, least of all this bland loaf of bread in your hand.

Ricky, on the other hand, is from Shiganshina, which is apparently an outer city of Wall Maria (so the two boys really had just met that morning). 

“So, I’m guessing it’s the MP for you two?” Ricky says. Millie looks offended.

“That’s not right for you to assume!” She deflates a little. “But yes, it is.”

“Hey.” You shoot her a scowl. “It’s the MP for you. I don’t have any intention of hurrying back to precious Sina.”

Millie gazes at you with her we’ll talk about this later look like she has every time you’ve brought up that you have no intention of returning to fucking Stohess where nothing ever happens. Before she can say anything, Ricky ruffles your hair fondly. 

“Should’ve known you were made of tougher shit than that. So what, you like playing hero?”

You shrug. “No, I just have a sob story. Dead old Dad was a Scout, and then he was titan chowder.”

Stephen looks disturbed at how bluntly you say it, and even Ricky is a bit thrown off. You chuckle at their expressions, waving a hand nonchalantly. “It’s fine, it happened a while ago. I barely remember him. But you know, what better way to connect with your dead dad than to align yourself with the people who let him die, right?”

Ricky’s mouth hangs open as Millie snorts. “You can laugh, she’s making a joke. Get used to her sense of humor, it’s always this bad.”

“I resent that.”

“So you don’t care about getting into the top ten?” Stephen asks carefully - scoping out the competition, you realize.

“Couldn’t give less of a shit,” you answer coolly, “but Millie obviously does.”

“I’ll get into the top ten, it’s not about that.” Millie says confidently, shaking her head as though it’s ridiculous to even imagine that she wouldn’t. After all, you two were raised to be perfect. “The real goal is to be first.”

Ignoring the madly ambitious look in her eyes, you focus on Stephen. “So what is it for you? The Scouts?”

He winces bashfully. “I’m...undecided.”

You laugh out loud, a bit meanly. “What, undecided like you’re going to some top university in Mitras? This is the Training Corp, Stephen, you’re not gonna get to try out a bit of everything. Just choose whether or not you wanna be shipped off to a pointless death, and then you’ve made your decision.”

Stephen frowns, shaking his head. “If it was that simple, then what would be the point of choosing?”

Who in the holy hells asked for his philosophical wisdom, that’s what you want to know. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Ricky, who is chewing on your bread, abandoned after your taste buds just wouldn’t adjust without the butter you were used to. With his mouth full, he answers easily. “Scouts.”

You nod. At least he’s sure.

____________________

“That wasn’t right,” Millie says later, right as you’re about to lie down on a scratchy-looking bed.

“What?”

“What you said to him. He can take his time deciding if he wants to. And it’s just rich, coming from you.”

Your eye twitches in irritation. “You’re just pissed because I don’t wanna take on the most boring job in the world.”

“Grow up,” Millie hisses, venom laced in her voice. “Not everything’s about your entertainment.”

Turning around, you see your best friend with arms crossed, giving you a disapproving look that reminds you of your mother. How odd. What’s that old saying about people becoming what they most hate?

“You’re gonna lecture me now too? Hit me with some philosophy, maybe?” You raise your brow, daring her to say more. “Or do you wanna knock me over again? Maybe I’ll get a concussion this time.”

Millie scoffs, sitting down on the bed she’s claimed. “You know what, it was nice. Seeing someone put you in your place like that.” Her lips quirk under your hard gaze. “Maybe he’ll teach you a thing or two about taking things seriously. Give you some actual goals to achieve.”

The only thing Lieutenant Levi will teach you is to never get distracted by something like how beautiful someone’s eyes look ever again. Even now, you can still picture him, the way he stood in front of you, startled you, threw you off. The way his eyes were filled with more duality than you’d ever expected to see in a person.

Pretending like you didn’t just fantasize about his pretty grey irises, you roll your eyes and flop down on the bed next to her’s. “He’s not gonna teach me jack shit. He’s not even our trainer.”

Millie hums, whether it’s to you or to herself you don’t know, and when you look at her again she’s closed her eyes, clearly wanting to end what was a very long day. It’s not long before you join her.

“(F/N).”

“Yeah?”

“I miss home.”

You don’t, but you keep it to yourself.

The last thing you think of before you fall asleep is how cold the lieutenant had looked when he humiliated you, and your cheeks burn angrily.

____________________

Two weeks pass by in a blur. Once training starts, there’s not much time to think about something like goals, because everyone’s goal is simply living until dinner each night. Avoid getting yelled at, attend classes, study hard, and for the love of all things holy don’t fall on your face when you’re balancing in the practice ODM gear. 

It’s a rush, and you actually find yourself enjoying it. The food still tastes stale and the bed is still too hard to be comfortable, but there’s an easy routine that’s so much more than sit still and look pretty. While you’ve never been a fan of routine, this is different. There’s a purpose to this, even if everyone has different things they’re working towards. Whether they’re trying their best to show what they’re made of and get into the top ten like Millie, or pushing themselves because they get starry-eyed at the thought of saving humanity like Rashad, or simply staying out of trouble to avoid getting meal privileges taken away like Clara, everyone is working towards something, and it’s thrilling to be in the midst of it, to be a part of something meaningful.

You and Ricky are fast friends - he’s surprisingly not too insufferable and he shares your enthusiasm for not taking things so seriously. He also seems like he’s looking for a partner in crime, someone to partake in the oh-so delightful task of slacking off with. Millie is throwing herself into perfecting everything, and Stephen, while not as crazy as she is, is more nervous about losing respectability in front of their trainers and comrades. So the two of you naturally gravitate towards each other, because jeez, at least a few people here need to remember that life still exists outside of all of the training and military drama. 

Today is the first time they’re letting you practice hand-to-hand combat, and while that’s obviously ridiculous since you’re training to fight titans (or just bully people, if you’re joining the MP, but Millie didn’t appreciate you voicing that out loud), it’s also a chance for you to show off a natural talent. 

You’re flexible. And fairly fast too.

Sure, you’re no fighter, but back home you were put into dancing lessons since you were a wee young thing, so you have a much higher tolerance than most of these chumps. You can take a few hard punches here and there, and you’re fluid with your movements, so you’re giving as good as you get. Even combat is a dance in a certain way, it has all the same elements at any rate. Everything comes down to the placement of the feet, and every other body is an accessory that has to be utilized perfectly to do any damage. 

Unfortunately, Ricky’s fought, like actually fought - fucking peasants from Maria and their street fights - and so as much as you put up a damn good fight, he eventually gets you in a hold from behind. You squirm in his grasp as he laughs, digging his fingers in your side. You try to protest, but it’s hard when he’s tickling you so hard.

“H-hey, hey!” Your giggling only gets two octaves louder when Ricky doesn’t let up. “Stop!” Ricky’s laugh mixes in with yours, until he’s lifting you off the ground. Your breathing becomes painful as you struggle against his grip, clawing at his hands. “Ricky! Let go!”

Finally, he decides to show mercy, dropping you. He regrets it pretty soon, though, because then you’re on him quickly, throwing a hard punch against his shoulder. He groans, letting out a pained, “What the hell, (F/N)?” but you’re not done. You grab the collar of his uniform, and tug it forward briefly to give yourself some momentum to shove him back as hard as you can.

Ricky stumbles on his feet, catching himself before he falls at the last second. There’s a determined expression in his eyes, not quite competitive but suddenly eager to show off.

“So, think your dainty dancing is gonna give you the advantage here?” he challenges, balling his fists in front of his chest. You do the same. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but that’s not how that works.”

“Beat me, then. Properly.” You smirk, planting your feet firmly. Let him throw the first punch, you decide. “I have to be on the ground for you to win.”

Ricky’s clever too, knowing you intend to use his size against him. He lowers his arms, extending them as though he’s going to let you take a free shot. Yeah, you’re not that stupid. You stay right where you are, raising an unimpressed brow. The two of you stare each other down, trying your best not to break into smiles. 

“Hit me.”

“Hard pass.”

“Because you know your punch will be too weak?”

“How’s your shoulder, Ricky? Should be feeling fine, since my punch was so weak.”

He barks out a laugh, rolling his shoulder back experimentally. “Like getting hit by a feather.”

Okay, trash talk isn’t part of the combat training that the trainer, Instructor Grumman, has assigned. But it’s still fun, and it’s about a thousand times more preferable than actually fighting. Fighting is painful and pointless. Trash talk is entertaining and doable. 

Still, you hunch your shoulders. If Ricky really won’t move, you’ll come at him with full force. Digging your heel into the ground, you give yourself a boost and run towards him with a burst of speed. His eyes widen, and his first instinct is to hold out his hands to keep you at bay. But with the close proximity and his lanky figure, it won’t be enough. You’ll have him on his back within seconds if you ram into him in one, two -

You don’t make it.

You don’t make it because you’re suddenly flung into the air. You let out a frantic shriek and bring your arms up to shield your face. The ground approaches with dizzying speed and you hit it with a sickening thud. Your hands are suddenly covered in scratches and you open your mouth to furiously ask Ricky what the fuck he was thinking and how did he even do that and did he have to throw you so high -

But when you look up, it’s cold grey eyes that meet you.

Fuck.

The glare that was supposed to be for Ricky is now aimed at him, unadulterated hate coursing through your veins. This is the first time you’ve seen him since that day. Just what in the actual fuck is his problem, and just what had you done to deserve being thrown over his shoulder and up into the sky like a fucking ragdoll? You hadn’t mouthed off this time. Hell, you didn’t even know he was there, so just what the fuck was he punishing you for?

“People who don’t take their training seriously usually end up looking up like this,” he hisses. His glare matches yours, which is ridiculous, because he’s the one who knocked you down. Why is he pissed off? “‘Course, they’re usually looking up at a titan, but we don’t have any of those on hand for me to demonstrate.”

Yeah, he’s far from a titan. Fucking shrimp.

“I was taking my training very seriously, sir,” you say with gritted teeth. “In fact, I would have defeated my opponent had you not stepped in and shot me up in the air.” Your hands would also have significantly fewer bruises. 

He snorts, actually snorts, like you’ve just told a hilarious joke. “A real opponent isn’t going to let you run that mouth of yours before they come at you. You’d be dead in two fucking seconds.”

People are looking now. Everyone remembers that first day, and they all look as though their favorite stage actors have come to town to perform a show. They’re all waiting to see just what the girl who talked back to Lieutenant Levi will do now. A circus trick, perhaps? They don’t know what you’re made of - no one is going to see you crack. And definitely not because of this insufferable man.

“You don’t know that, sir.” You say it with a poisonous smile, wanting him to know that it’s not meant to be respectful. “I might just make it. Maybe I’ll even make it longer than you.”

There are hushed gasps all around you, but the lieutenant pays them no mind. He looks amused, as if you’re just a stupid little girl, an arrogant brat who somehow thinks she’s somehow stronger than him. You’re not an idiot, you know that he’s an excellent soldier who will probably make captain soon, and you’re a lowly cadet who doesn’t even know the basics yet. But once you’re trained up, once you have experience, you think you could take him on, and you could possibly win.

Lieutenant Levi leans down, crouching on his legs before leaning in. He grabs your shoulder harshly, and leans in to whisper in your ear. “I’ll be waiting, (L/N).”

You almost feel respected until he adds, “Waiting to see the day that fucking smile gets wiped off your face.”

With that, he stands up and turns. Turns to walk away. Turns as though you’re not still on the ground. Turns as though your comrades aren’t snickering around you, convinced that he just put you in your place a second time. Turns as though he didn’t just single you out for no damn reason - who even fucking asked him to watch? Who asked him to interfere in your business? Why didn’t anyone else demand his attention? You weren’t the only one goofing off. Hell, there were some people who were actually just lazing around! Where was their punishment?

Furiously, you speak before your brain can catch up.

“Why don’t you fight me, Lieutenant?” you say loudly as you get to your feet.

He stops.

Ricky, who is safely standing a few feet away now, gives you a wide-eyed look, silently asking if you’re brain damaged. But you pay him no mind, your eyes focused on the back of Lieutenant Levi’s head, probably burning a hole in him with your gaze by now. Immediately, the crowd changes sides again, hushed oohs spreading around. It’s not enthusiastic, no one actually believes you’ll triumph, but they are enthusiastic that you have the balls to try.

He turns, giving you the driest expression you’ve ever seen, and you half expect to be dismissed. To be told that you’re too weak to even think about fighting him.

Instead, his stance changes, his fists are raised, and he’s accepted your challenge.

You know you can’t win. That’s not the point. The point is to hold out. For a whole minute, at least. Half a minute. Was twenty seconds too generous?

There’s a small part of you that regrets mouthing off this time.

Lieutenant Levi doesn’t have to waste any time staring you down. He has no need to debate in his head about who should throw the first punch, and nor does he grant you the courtesy of devising a strategy in your head first. In half a second, he’s approaching you with dizzying speed, fist reeled back, about to knock you over for the second time today.

But you’re sick and tired of these fast maneuvers. 

You duck down just as he closes the gap between you, and you go for his legs. He grunts in surprise as you make contact, clutching tightly. It may look pathetic. Your arms are wrapped around his thighs, which you basically just dived into. Your face is squished against his hip. Your feet have left the ground, as you’ve thrown your entire body at him. At this moment, you look absolutely ridiculous.

But it’s worth it.

The lieutenant loses his balance as his feet slip from under him. You can feel him falling down, down, down, with a gasp that is just fucking music to your ears. This is turning out better than you’ve ever hoped for. You’ve proved everyone wrong, even yourself. He’s going to hit the floor, and you’re going to win. You’ll win.

Or at least, you would have.

You’re both hurtling through the air for one glorious moment. Then, recovering from his shock in an instant, Lieutenant Levi spins the two of you in midair, and despite all your efforts and quick calculations, it’s your back that hits the floor again with a loud crack, air knocked clean out of your lungs. You gasp for breath. His knees are digging into your neck, you’re going to choke -

He takes no time to recover. He’s up and on his feet in a second, brushing the nonexistent dirt off his pants, and you’re left panting with your hand on your throat, trying to recover what little dignity you have left as laughter erupts around you. Dizziness and confusion overwhelms you, as does something else. Just a few minutes ago, you’d been looking at him hatefully. Well, you from five minutes ago had no idea what hate was. You could kill him right now, this arrogant, pompous, cruel jerk. 

How dare he look so unperturbed? Like this is just a normal weekday for him?

A hand yanks you up by your hair, nails digging in your scalp painfully. You’re brought to your knees with a heaving gasp. He tugs your head up until you’re looking at him properly, and he has the nerve to smirk. It’s slight - perhaps he knows a full blown smile would look creepy on him - but it’s there, mocking you.

When he speaks, it’s just a little louder than a murmur. “I thought I told you to tie your hair up.”

Then he releases you, and your buckle over in pain. The position literally has you bowing down to him. White hot anger seeps through you. Consumes you. When he starts walking away, his every step thunders in your head, echoing a million times. He had no right. 

No right at all.

It seems like Millie’s wish has come true. You have a goal now. A goal that Lieutenant Levi has so graciously given you.

You’ve decided. No matter what happens, you’re going to get revenge on Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. He’s going to fucking pay.

____________________

You’re pacing out in the field later that day, muttering under your breath, the events from earlier replaying in your head on loop. Millie’s decided to give up on getting you to come study with her, and she’s blatantly refused to participate in your little quest for revenge, citing it as “pointless and foolhardy.” Well, this whole thing is pointless and foolhardy. The Training Corp is just a way to produce more dead bodies every year. But Millie didn’t agree with your line of logic and has left you to brood on your own.

Realistically, what are your options? It’s not an easy task to take on. Humiliating a man who is now so respected and admired will be difficult when his ego soars sky high. Something heavy will be needed to bring it down. Now you have no intention of ruining him for life, nothing major or extremely dangerous. If you did have such an intent, it would’ve been rather simple, just a letter back home to your mother to spread the word of what humanity’s hero was really like. Not that she’s inclined to listen to your demands nowadays, but it’s a doable plan that would work one way or another. But you want to embarrass Lieutenant Levi the exact same way he embarrassed you. You want to knock him flat on his back, while everyone watches, and you want to stand triumphantly as he kneels down to you.

Someone listening to your thoughts right about now would think you were having a vivid sexual fantasy. You groan, slumping down against the bark of a tree. It’s going to be dark soon. You have a curfew that you’re inclined to obey. But you simply can’t go back without thinking of a plan. He deserves it. He deserves to be utterly humiliated. Punishing you is one thing. Beating you in a fight is only natural. 

But holding you up by your hair like you’re one of the fucking spoils of war only to have you kneel to him - that’s sick. He’s sick, and probably perverted. You wonder if he’s always been like that, or if the glory has gone to his head. And you wonder why he’s chosen you to play this game with. Because of a smile and some cheek? That’s no excuse. 

Maybe you’re just the prettiest one here, and he has a crush.

Even the cocky thought can’t distract you enough from your frustration. You can’t possibly beat him. There’s a reason he’s getting so much attention. It’s because he can fight like no other, and it’s all natural talent too. Frankly, you call bullshit, no one is just that good without any practice, but whatever, not the point right now. Who could possibly make you capable enough to beat the lieutenant in a fight? Who could possibly know all his weaknesses? 

Probably only him.

Your eyes widen.

____________________

The sun shines brightly the next day. You feel the warm breeze from the open windows kissing your cheek as you run through the base. Most people passing by pay you no mind, although a few give you questioning looks. But they don’t say anything, probably figuring you’re just a lost newbie who’s inevitably going to get yelled at when you show up late for class. But they’re mistaken, you’re not lost at all. You’re running with purpose. And well, you might be late for class, but it’ll be fine, you know Stephen takes detailed notes that he’s willing to share, and even if he feels like being mean, this is much more important.

Originally, the plan was to go all the way to his office, the path pieced together from directions you’d gotten from Instructor Grumman who believed you were going to apologize (for what?). Hopefully, he won’t actually double check if you went through with it, because you have no intention of apologizing for a single damn thing. Your aim is far more sinister than that. Today is the first step of a plan that will take you a long while, but it’ll pay off eventually. You’re going to achieve your goal. 

That is, if he agrees.

The universe is on your side, because you don’t even need to go all the way to his office. There he is, in the flesh, talking to a blonde man you recognize as Captain Erwin Smith and a woman who you haven’t seen before. Maybe if he hadn’t been so callous yesterday, you’d have waited until he was away from his comrades before approaching him. It’s too late to care about appearances now.

You step up to the three of them and salute, clearing your throat.

He looks at you, and his eyes harden when he sees a smile plastered on your face yet again. 

“Can we help you?” Captain Erwin says gently, but there’s just the slightest edge in his tone. Clearly one is not supposed to just approach this dream team. Your bad.

You open your mouth to answer him, but Lieutenant Levi beats you to it, looking bored as he does. “She’s lost, Erwin. Classes are on the other side of the base,” he says dismissively, waving a hand like he’s swatting away a fly.

“I am not lost. Sir.” Your spine is still straightened and your fist is still balled against your heart. You’re not sacrificing it just yet, but you’re certainly sacrificing your pride here. “I have a request for you. After you pointed out my obvious flaws yesterday, I realized that if I don’t get help, I’m going to fall seriously behind.”

Captain Erwin shoots him an exasperated look, already having figured that his best friend (or whatever they are to each other) must have done something to you. Meanwhile, the woman cackles, nudging the lieutenant’s shoulder. 

“She’s being proactive! You appreciate that, don’t you, Levi?”

He doesn’t answer. His attention is now exclusively on you - you nearly feel special. 

“So what do you need from me, Cadet?” You ignore the way your stomach flip-flops violently from the way he stares at you, the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a light smirk. Something in him clearly enjoys the idea of you needing him for something. Something else to lord over your head, something else for him to be cocky about. “You want me to find someone to give you private lessons?”

“Close,” you say, mustering the brightest and happiest fucking expression you can, “I’d like you to give me private lessons. I want you to train me.”

The lieutenant’s eyes flash upwards. 

Your hair is neatly tied up in a tight bun.

Y’all have no idea how weird it is to write “Lieutenant Levi.” I loathe it.

Also, this is my first time writing in second person. Lots of firsts here, folks.

Please review, your comments are my source of life.

[skzsauce01]

King of Hearts

Synopsis: The king of hearts has a very special surprise planned for his queen. Heavy inspiration from Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass.

Warning: murder

Word Count: 4.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x king!Chan

The throne room looks best at night when the moonlight spills through the giant glass windows and illuminates the wall of weapons behind the throne. It is an odd array of mostly clubs, maces, and swords, but dead center in the wall and above the plush red velvet seat of the king is a heavy double-bladed axe. Crafted and honed to be as sharp as a diamond knife, it is the perfect tool for executions.

Tomorrow evening it’s gleaming, polished surface will splattered with the blood of a queen.

The king allows himself to admire his collection of weaponry for another minute before returning to his bedchambers where his wife is surely missing his warm presence.

“Good morning, sweet tart,” your husband purrs into your ear. “It’s a special day today.”

You have been awake for the past hour, pretending to be fast asleep when you were actually sneaking glances of Chan in various states of undress. However, you keep your eyes closed and your breathing steady, knowing that he will start planting kisses down your jaw if you’re not awake soon.

“I know you’re not really sleeping,” he continues. He taps the corner of your mouth, and you try not to smile. “I saw you looking earlier.”

You give up the charade and sit up. “Can you blame me?” you grin. “You always dress so nicely for court trials. How many are on the agenda today?”

“Four,” he replies, pulling you closer to him. You playfully squirm in his embrace, and he placates you with exactly four kisses on the crown of your head. “Will you be attending?”

You sink into him and wish you could stay there all day. Just the thought of your own schedule tires you. “I have to ‘entertain’ my sister.”

Chan’s throaty chuckle rumbles against your cheek. “Just until dinnertime, sweet tart. Then you’ll be free.”

“I know. Thank goodness she’ll be busy after dinner.”

Reluctantly you let go of your husband and stumble out of bed. Your dreadful sister will nag at you in that awful harpy-esque way of hers if you’re even a second late to breakfast. Chan makes a feeble attempt to grab your wrist before following you to the vanity.

“Is the king not needed in court yet?” you tease as you brush out the tangles in your hair.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and presses his cheek against yours. “I’m missing something.”

It’s a silly tradition from your courting days: a kiss for each departure. He insisted on keeping it even when the two of you married, and you happily obliged. You turn to peck him on the cheek, but he twists his head so that your lips land onto his. He laughs at your noise of surprise and kisses you like he’s never going to see you again. It has been a while since Chan has been this intimate with you, and you eagerly return his affections.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you remark when he finally pulls away. You feel warm all over, but Chan is as composed as ever.

He smiles, full dimples showing. “It’s a special day today.”

“Goodbye, darling,” you say as you watch him leave the room through the vanity mirror.

He gives you one last glance before disappearing through the door. You note that he didn’t bother to fix his mussed up hair and giggle when you picture how he’ll look with the crown on his head.

It’s a good start to a bad day.

“You’re late,” is what your older sister greets you with.

You sit across from her at the dining table and do your best not to scowl. You wonder how the servants feel about her. There are none in the room, so in typical fashion, she must have dismissed them for one negligible reason or another. “Good morning to you too, Nari.”

“What are you wearing? Does this kingdom only wear red and black?” she continues. She picks up her cup of tea and stares at you above the lip, waiting for you to explain. Even with a team of royal advisors and a sister married to a foreign king, she still refuses to learn anything about kingdoms other than her own.

You sigh and try to remember Chan’s words. You only have to suffer through this until dinner and then your sister will finally be gone. “It’s a court day, so everyone wears red and black. It’s custom.”

“You and your frivolous trials,” she scoffs. “What’s the point when they’re all guilty anyway? So, are you going to ask about my trip? Where are your manners, little sister?”

You’re certain she means well when she nags you, but it doesn’t make it any less irritating. “How is everything at home?” you ask instead, knowing that will produce a shorter answer.

“Fine. Felix is ruling in my stead, but most of my advisors are with him, so he’ll have no trouble with it.” Nari picks up a scone topped with confectioner’s sugar and eyes it curiously before taking a bite. “Your sweets are quite good.”

You primly nod and pour yourself a cup of tea. Breakfast is mostly silent, and you’re glad that you nor your sister care to make conversation. You can barely stand her when she’s in a tolerable mood, and it seems like she’s nothing of the sort today. Her usual haughty disposition is only tempered by her breakfast of sweets. Nari seems to be enjoying the food with less complaints than usual, and you feel just a bit smug.

When the servants come to clear away the plates, you hollowly suggest to show Nari the rose gardens. She cheerfully agrees and links arms with you as you lead her outside.

It’s an uncomfortable feeling to have her so close to you after you haven’t seen her in a year. It’s even odder when you realize that she hasn’t linked arms with you since you were five and she eight. You mindlessly point out a few varieties of flowers on the way to the garden and wonder why your normally cold sister has turned warm.

“Is everything alright?” you ask once you have led her to the middle of the garden. The sweet scent of the roses always relaxes you, and hopefully they will do the same for Nari. “You’re acting strange all of a sudden.”

She lets you go and stands in front of you. “Your husband. I don’t like him.”

“We courted for two years,” you remind her, frowning at the memory of her telling you the same thing when Chan first arrived at your home. “And we’re married now. I know you don’t like him, but there’s nothing you can do now.”

She shakes her head. “Do you know what the village girls call him? I stopped in town yesterday, and all the girls could talk about was Chan, the King of Hearts! They went on and on about his ‘perfect face’ and ‘perfect body.’ Think about what he’s done to get such a name!”

“Be an eligible, handsome future king?” You sigh and grab a nearby rose to stick your nose in. You will not give her the satisfaction of setting you off. “Nari,” you begin, your terse voice muffled by the petals, “it’s natural that you want to protect me, but if you’re only here to criticize Chan, then I’m not sure what to do with you during your stay.”

“I saw him stare at me when I arrived last night,” she protests. “Like an animal, unabashed.”

You almost snort at her claim. If anything, Chan dislikes Nari more than you do due to her constant nitpicks of him during the courting years. The incessant “You will never be good enough for her” and “Stay away from my siblings” surprisingly did not deter him from proposing to you.

“I’m sure it was disdain, not lust,” you dryly reply.

“I feel like I’m being watched in this place,” she continues, ignoring your remark. “I don’t trust him or anyone here.”

No wonder why she suddenly put on a facade the moment the servants stepped in the dining room.

“What do you think of the garden?” you ask to change the subject. You cannot fight with her on court day and with so many guests in the castle. “These are our prized roses. Chan said it took the gardeners and florists years to breed them.”

Nari glances at the flower you hold and purses her lips. “It looks like someone painted a white rose red. There’s still spots of white on them. You’re certain they were bred and not painted?”

You swallow the retort in your throat and reach out for another rose to inhale. Nari is just being Nari.

“How about a game of croquet?” You take her elbow and start leading her to the croquet court without waiting for a response. “I think you’ll enjoy it. I’ll teach you how to play.”

Nari roughly snatches her arm back, and her eyes flash with an unfamiliar fire. “You’re not taking any of this seriously, little sister. All the village tarts have likely been with him already, so you mean nothing to him! Isn’t that his cute, little pet name for you too? ‘Sweet tart?’ You’re pathetic.”

For all Nari has said in the past, she has never directly insulted you like this. The fragile restraint you have on your emotions snaps.

“You just hate Chan because he didn’t want to marry you!” you shout, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You’re just bitter that he chose me instead of you! And do you know why he and no one else likes you? Because you’re a cold, angry, bitter hag that nitpicks everything! And you think you’re such a perfect ruler, but the truth is that your advisors hate you and like Felix better! I bet the entire kingdom is happier without you!”

It comes out in one long breath, and you’re red in the face from screaming years of pent up feelings at your sister. It feels good to let it all out. With a sick sense of delight, you watch as Nari turns scarlet and as her eyes gloss over with tears.

“I’m going back to my chambers,” she frostily says.

She pushes past you, and you don’t try to follow her. Even though it’s a longer way back to the castle, you take the opposite path and head to the courtroom.

At least someone will be happy to see you.

You appear placid when you enter the courtroom, which is just the throne room with extra chairs for the jury and audience. Everyone stares at you as you walk to the empty seat reserved for you at king’s side.

“Hello, darling,” you whisper to him as you fluff out your skirts. “My sister decided to retire early to her room.”

He nods in reply and turns back to the defendant. “Proceed.”

Despite his reserved facade, he places one hand on top of yours and starts fiddling with your fingers to try and make you burst out into laughter. It’s a game you and him play during court days, and he has won the past three rounds. However, by the time the defendant is found guilty, neither of you have broken each other.

Chan calls to break for afternoon tea, but you and him linger in the empty room.

He helps you up from your seat and pulls you into an embrace in one fluid motion. “Court is much more fun with you,” he sighs into your hair. “Have I mentioned how stunning you look in red?”

“Only every time I wear it.” You reach up and brush a stray curl from his temple. “Might I say, you look even more handsome than when I saw you this morning.”

“It must be all the guilty verdicts. Are you going to watch the executions in the evening?”

“I always do.” Your eyes fall onto the double-bladed axe above the throne. “It’s my favorite part of court day.”

“I think you’ll enjoy today’s very much.” He slips his arm from your waist to your hands and begins leading you to the dining hall. “I heard the cook made jam tarts for tea today. Your favorite.”

You lean into him and smile at his pleased expression. “You requested them, didn’t you? She hasn’t made them in ages!”

“Sweet tarts for my sweet tart,” he playfully says, kissing your fingertips and making you giggle. “I thought they would make afternoon tea with your sister less awful.”

The mere mention of Nari turns your mood sour. “I hope she skips tea.”

“Did you two quarrel?”

“When do we not?”

Two servants open the door to the dining hall, and to your vast disappointment, you spot Nari seated at an empty table by a window, a cup of tea in hand. Her head is turned, and you can’t see her face, but she is the only person in the room not wearing red and black.

You hesitate by the door, and Chan nudges you toward her. “Your sister’s here.”

“Don’t you hate Nari?” you try. “Please don’t make me talk to her.”

“I do, but politics. She’s my sister-in-law” — he doesn’t even bother to hide the disgust in his voice  — “and the queen of a foreign kingdom. You hate her less than I do.”

The last part is debatable. “I get a front seat at the executions tonight,” you negotiate. “And jam tarts for tea for the rest of the week.”

Chan gratefully kisses your cheek and murmurs into your ear, “You can request jam tarts from the cook whenever you like, you know. I’ll see you after.”

You should have demanded more, like handling executions instead of getting a front row seat to them. He would have never agreed to that.

While he leaves to chat with some aristocrats about the past trials, you stiffly walk towards your sister. You take the empty chair in front of her and curtly say a greeting. She says nothing and instead pours you a cup of tea. For a minute, the two of you choose to sip your drinks and nibble on the quiches and tarts.

“Have you come to apologize?” Nari says in a strange brittle way. She finally looks up from the table, and you see that her eyes are ringed with red.

You want to say no because you haven’t, but a small part of you feels guilty for making her cry. As far as you remember, Nari stopped crying when she was eight.

However, you’re still upset. “No because you’ve never apologized to me. For saying all those things about me and for being rude to Chan all the time.”

“I meant all those things.”

“So did I.”

Another silence. You sneak glances at her, and judging by the fact that she’s still chewing on the same mini quiche from two minutes ago, she’s barely holding it together.

“Here,” you abruptly say, placing a raspberry jam tart on her plate. “I know you like sweets better.”

You can see her debating whether she should take your peace offering or not. Her jaw is set as she looks down at it, but her fingers twitch like she wants to grab it and taste it.

“It’s good, I promise.”

She takes a cautious bite of it and slowly reaches for another from the tower of treats. In the meantime, you refill your cups with more tea and smirk when you see the content expression Nari has when she finishes the tart. Across the room, Chan gives you an encouraging smile at your efforts.

“How’s Felix?” you ask. Your little brother is usually a safe topic. “He’s going to be old enough to be king soon, isn’t he?”

“According to you, he’ll make a much better ruler than me,” she sniffs.  “But I’m the eldest, so I was always going to be queen. Unlike whatever nonsensical laws you have here.”

She says ‘here’ like she said ‘pathetic’ earlier. Nari says something about Felix and how his studies are going, but you’re too concerned with keeping your anger in check to hear it.

“You can never leave anything alone, can you?” you snap in the midst of her spiel. You wrap all of the tarts — yes, every single one from the tea tower, much to your sister’s dismay — in a bundle of napkins and stand up. “I’ll see you at dinner, Nari.”

You hear her huff a reply about how immature you’re being, but you don’t care. On your way back to the courtroom, someone grabs your wrist and spins you toward them.

You already know it’s Chan. “I tried but—”

“Are you really going to take all those tarts and share none with me?”

“Oh?” You hold out the napkins and let him pick between raspberry jam and lemon curd. “You’re not here to come tell me to make nice with my sister?”

“I saw it wasn’t going well, so I called for court to resume in ten minutes,” he says, licking the leftover jam from his fingers. He smiles reassuringly at you. “Don’t lose your pretty head over her. She’s…”

“Annoying? Rude? Deserving of none of our kindness?”

He stifles a laugh at your tone and starts leading to the courtroom. “Difficult,” is what he finally settles upon, but you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “She won’t be a problem for you much longer though.”

“I can hardly wait until tomorrow,” you sigh. “Goodbye, dreadful Nari.”

All the pastries are finished by the time you and Chan take your designated seats. No one else has arrived yet, so Chan takes off his crown and rests his head on your shoulders. He contently sighs and nestles his face into the crook of your neck.

“I think you’ll like this trial,” he mumbles, his tickly breath making you giggle. “It’s why jam tarts have been a scarcity for the past two weeks.”

“Is the cook on the stand?” you joke. The double doors to the throne room start to open, and you raise your shoulder. “Darling.”

Within seconds, King Bang Chan is back and your adoring husband shelved away. More people fill the empty seats in the room, and you watch the entrance carefully to ensure your sister hasn’t decided to show up and make your day worse. It’s unlikely since she is bound to be upset, but you can never be too sure. As expected though, she never arrives, and you sigh in relief. When the trial begins, Chan’s hand is over yours, fiddling with your fingers again. You gladly continue the game as the defendant enters in chains, flocked by two guards.

However, no one wins. The trial is quickly over as the knave is soon found guilty of stealing fruit preserves from the royal kitchen. After the courtroom clears out and you and Chan exchange departing kisses, you retire to your chambers to get dressed for dinner while he goes off elsewhere to attend to more kingly duties.

You don’t see him again until you have finished your bath and the maids are pinning up your hair. Through the vanity mirror, you watch as he enters the bedchambers with his crown missing, hair mussed, and the top of his shirt unbuttoned.

“Hello, darling,” you call out, noticing his satisfied smile. “I see you enjoyed whatever it was that you were doing earlier.”

He gestures for the maids to leave, and they do so in a hurry. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing his lips to your neck at the same time. Every part of you is hyper aware of his proximity when he mumbles, “I did.”

He protests when you lean away and weakly cite your delicate half-done updo. Despite his feelings, he gives you a kiss on your temple and goes to take his bath; dinner will be starting in an hour.

Unsure of what to make of Chan’s reply, you call the maids back in and sit like a statue while they finish your hair. Nari is wrong, you tell yourself. She doesn’t know a single thing about your husband.

Her accusations of him, however, swirl around in your head, and they are all you can think about when there are no more hair tugging and pin stabbings. When Chan emerges from his bath, whistling the cheery execution song, he grins at you and says in tune, “Have I mentioned you look beautiful in red?”

A different kind of chill washes over you, but you still reply back with a stiff smile. “Only every time I wear it.”

He walks over to you and wraps one arm around your shoulders. The scent of soap and cologne that you typically find so comforting is suddenly pungent and overpowering. You can see that his other arm is hidden behind his back, and you can’t look anywhere else.

“Here,” he says. He tucks a red-and-white rose behind your hair, and you jump a bit when you feel the dampness of the petals against your skin. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice these in the bath. They’re your favorite.”

“It’s been a long day,” you tell him. You abruptly stand up and nod to the door. “Should we get to dinner?”

He loops his arm around your waist and leads you to the dining hall. “Were those tarts not filling enough?” he teases. “Or are you just excited for the executions after?”

“I suppose both.”

The finale of court day is the last thing on your mind.

Dinner passes by in a blur. For the first time of the day, you actively look around for Nari and are shocked and disappointed when she doesn’t show up. Maybe you should have been kinder. You airily laugh at the jokes the aristocrats make and make a few of your own about the trials, but your mind and eyes go back to Chan. He sits at the head of the table and merrily cheers with others over another successful court day. You catch him gazing lovingly at you occasionally, and you don’t know what to think anymore.

Soon, the crowd gathers to the execution site outside where servants have set up chairs and lit lanterns. As promised, Chan lets you have the best seat in the house. You sit quietly while he changes into his executioner’s robes and while he is presented with his double-bladed axe.

The guards bring the criminals from the prison, their heavy chains clanging against one another. Four guilty verdicts, four heads to roll. You normally would be thrilled by this prospect, but tonight’s jubilation has been dulled. Nevertheless, you clap after each punishment and admire how clean the cuts are. The wooden chopping block soon drips with blood, and a metallic tang fills the air.

A servant comes to dispose of all the remains, and most of the audience turns to leave, but Chan still lingers around.

“There’s still one more execution left,” he announces. He wipes the blade clean and nods at the guards. “A very special one I planned in surprise for my wife.”

You hear the gasps before you can even process his words. You turn to find out what the fuss is about, and your eyes grow wide when you spot a familiar lily-white dress through the crowd.

“Darling,” you shakily ask, “what is this?”

Chan grins widely at you and readjusts the axe in his grip. “You’re going to be the queen of two kingdoms, sweet tart.”

The guards force your sister to stop in front of you, and Chan rips off the gag in front of her mouth. Nari doesn’t say a word, but the look in her eye says it all: “I told you so.”

“What is this?” you repeat. You wring your hands in the folds of your skirts and try to figure out what exactly is happening.

Your sister is about to be executed for unknown reasons, your husband seems rather nonchalant about the whole situation, and you suppose you are as well. With the chains manacled around her wrists and the guards standing behind her, Nari feels like just another criminal to be punished.

“For starters, you and I don’t like her,” Chan says, walking closer. He glances over at Nari. “She’s a terrible queen, and from what I’ve been told by my advisors, she’s too busy with pretending to be a queen to actually rule.”

“He’s a liar!” Nari spits out, flushing bright red at the allegation. “Don’t you forget that he has mistresses all over town and that you’re just another pretty plaything to him!”

The audience, having heard her accusations, gasps again, and a wave of whispers rolls through the crowd. You glance over at Chan to see his reaction.

He looks terrifying.

His usual cool composure is streaked with anger so hot, you can almost feel it radiating off of him. He thickly swallows, and his hand bearing the bloodstained axe starts to shake. His breathing turns ragged when he finally looks at Nari.

“You think that I would have an affair? You think I would be disloyal to her?” The next sentence comes out in a cold, calm breath. “I’ll execute you on that charge alone.”

“Wait!” you shout at Chan before he can drag her to the execution block. More quietly, you say, “Explain yourself. When you came into the room.”

His face softens as he realizes the implications of his earlier appearance. He cups your face with his free hand. “I was getting your sister taken to the prison. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t go on her own accord, so there was a bit of a scuffle. The guards took care of her later though. I could never be disloyal to you, Y/N.”

No pet names, no teasing. He’s dead serious.

You switch back to your sister, who is still clinging firm to her beliefs. Look at her steadfast expression! “You’re the liar,” you sardonically laugh. “You almost made me believe your lies! You… you almost turned me against my husband! And what for? Your own jealousy?”

“To protect you! And I was right too!” She sharply nods at the crowd of aristocrats. “Look at this madness! Court days and execution parties?”

“Like you don’t order the deaths of criminals yourself!” You motion for the guards to take her to the execution block. You hate her so much right now, and you can barely see past the haze of red overtaking your vision. “Goodbye, Nari.”

“So you’re just going to let him kill me?” she yells. She tries to grab your shoulders at the last second, but the guards pull her back. “He’s an awful man, killing me for such a petty reason! And you’re pathetic for standing by him!”

Pathetic.

It echoes in your ears, and you want to snatch the axe out of Chan’s hands and do it yourself. However, you instead bite out, “Shut up. It’s the least you can do to apologize to me.”

Chan cleans the blade with the cloth from Nari’s gag, and you watch as the white fabric gets painted with scarlet like your sister’s stupid notion about the roses. He raises the axe over her head, and the metal flashes in the lantern light.

You look your sister in the eye. “Off with your head.”

And off her head goes.

~ ad.gray

[indulge-that-sin]

A Social Experience

Characters: GN!MC, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Mammon

Wordcount: 1700

Tags: Fluff, Domestic, Bonding Activities, Humor

(No spoilers for latter lessons, but takes place fairly late in the game.)

***

"--a gross, shut-in otaku like me!" Levi finished, on the all too familiar note.

Usually by this point you would already be launching into reassurances that he certainly wasn't gross, and shouldn't talk about himself like that, but this time there was nothing but a silence that bounced off the walls, damning and louder than any words.

You reached into your bag of chips, removed a single potato chip, and ate it as you tilted your head in thought. Levi took your silence like a slap in the face, and recoiled, his face already wavering. The sound of your chewing was distressingly loud in contrast.

You finished chewing and swallowed. "I mean, is that even true anymore?" you asked after a nerve-wracking length of time.

Levi's expression twisted more into confusion than hurt. "Huh?!" 

"Don't you kind of lose your hikikomori credentials if you become popular and people start coming to spend time with you all the time?"

"That's not-- I'm not-- You don't count!" Levi sputtered.

"Oh, I don't count, huh," you repeated, putting a hand to your chest and dramatically feigning heartbreak.

Levi looked abashed now. "Th-that's not what I meant," he rushed to add.

"I know what you meant," you said. "Give it an hour."

Now Levi tilted fully into confusion.

"Give what an hour?"

"My point to be made," you said, and placed your D.D.D. onto the lip of the bathtub, out of your own reach. It was also clearly visible to Levi as you both sat on beanbags in front of his TV, next to the bath tub. "An hour," you repeated in a portentous video game narrator voice.

Levi scowled and picked up his controller again, turning back to his game. But his reactions were off, now. His character moved jerkily around the screen, doubling back and taking wrong turns on the 8-bit map as Levi's mood roiled with the strangeness of the conversation.

You continued eating your chips slowly, savoring the taste of the limited edition novelty flavor that Levi had generously acquired for you. He'd tried to pass it as a coincidence, but he didn't really know anyone else who unironically enjoyed the taste of cream and devilradish chips.

Not even half an hour passed before there was a knock on the door. Levi asked for the password on reflex. Surprisingly, from the other side of the door came a sigh, and then Asmo's melodious voice reciting the string of nerd trivia that Levi had set as a password for him ever since they became unlikely allies for the Bloody Moon competition.

"Come in, I guess," Levi replied, giving you a long look. Your D.D.D. was still on the edge of the bathtub, untouched as you sat there elbow-deep in greasy chips. You couldn't have called anyone over. And yet, was this what you expected to happen?

"Give it forty more minutes now," you said low.

Asmo fluttered into the room, like a passing breeze bringing in the smell of perfume. 

"Oh, there you are, darling, I was wondering where you were," he said, face lit up as he saw you.

He sat uninvited next to you in the beanbag, and you scooted over to make space for him. Levi would have complained, except moving to make room for Asmo meant you shuffled closer to Levi instead, so he ended up biting his tongue.

"What do you want?" Levi grit out.

"Must I want something?" Asmo asked, "Is it not enough that I give my adorable brother the opportunity to entertain me?"

"He's bored," you translated.

"I'm soooo bored," Asmo whined, his shoulders rolling in a full-body sigh. But he perked up as he leaned forward to look at both you and Levi. "But what about all this? Mind if I join the fun~?"

"Let's find a game Asmo can play," you suggested. 

"If you'd like," Asmo acquiesced with a shrug, indicating he'd had some other kind of fun in mind.

Levi gave you another sidelong glance, full of suspicion, but his head was out of the game he was playing anyway, so he exited and pulled up his game library instead. Deciding which game to choose was the trickier part, because Asmo had terrible reflexes, and an attention span worse than Mammon's when it came to playing anything. This ruled out anything requiring twitch reflexes or understanding complicated rules. 

Asmo, meanwhile, scrunched his nose at your chips.

"All that grease and salt is going to be awful for your complexion, darling," he said, clearly disapproving.

"I'm not rubbing it on my face," you said, and defiantly sucked crumbs off your thumb. Levi nearly choked at the sound, which was borderline obscene. The little sound Asmo made in response did nothing to contradict this impression. Levi managed to swallow back the wave of envy before it came undammed by concentrating on the list of games on the screen. He still had to make a selection.

A farming sim seemed like a safe enough choice; something bright and frivolous. Just like Asmo.

Levi passed the controller as the title screen came up, and Asmo, to his credit, managed to choose the 'New Game' option without messing anything up. Yet. When the screen went dark as the game loaded, Asmo couldn't resist looking at his reflection and primping his hair a bit. Levi did resist snorting and rolling his eyes, but it was a close thing.

The character creation screen popped up with its myriad of options, and Asmo gasped in delight.

"Oh! This is a good start! Much better than getting shoved into some ugly gray metal suit at the beginning," Asmo remarked cheerfully. He cycled through the hair and clothing options with the speed and deftness of a veteran player. 

"Hey, beginner armor in RPGs can be colorful too," Levi protested.

"But not fashionable, apparently," Asmo sniffed.

Asmo had only just barely settled on a hairstyle and color combination he thought was adequately cute, and was scrunching his nose at the shirt options, when another knock came at the door.

"Come in," you called out, before Levi could demand a password.

Mammon's head popped through the door, and he pulled a face when he saw you there, just like he always did when you were in somebody else's company and not his.

"Eh? What're you doing here?" Mammon asked, closing the door behind him and sidling up to the three of you. 

He craned his neck and squinted at the screen, like he was verifying that whatever you were doing, it passed his requirements for propriety. Between knowing the kinds of games Levi had in his collection, and seeing Asmo there, maybe he was not completely unjustified in some suspicion, but it still made you want to roll your eyes.

"We're watching Asmo create his character," you explained.

Mammon guffawed. "Betcha been watching him do that for a while!"

"Fifteen minutes, more or less," you said. "But to be fair, Levi takes way longer to create characters."

"It's an important step!" Levi sputtered.

"Especially with the quality of the options," Asmo added. "Look at this. A purple T-shirt with a pink butt on it?"

"That's a peach!" Levi protested, his face turning red.

"I know what a butt looks like, Levi," Asmo replied tartly.

"Wait, wait, Asmo, that black one with the gold design ain't half bad! Go back an' pick that one." 

"That gaudy thing! Absolutely not!"

"Mammon, why are you even here?" Levi asked, now completely exasperated with his brothers.

"I was just seein' if we were still on for Devil Kart against those Purgatory Hall guys. We need ta win back our honor, ya know."

"Do we?" Levi asked suspiciously, "or are you running a betting pool again?"

Mammon made a good show of appearing indignant at the very suggestion, but he'd hit you up earlier today about whether you'd be willing to take a dive in the second half of Candy Mountain in exchange for a lump grimm sum, so you knew too much about the subject to defend Mammon without exposing him.

"Can't I be showin' an interest without ya gettin' all suspicious a' me? What makes me so weird, huh? Asmo here doesn't even play games, and I don't see ya hasslin' him!"

"I do too play games," Asmo protested.

"Really? 'Cause only thing I ever saw you play was that stupid matching thing with the gems, and I ain't seen much of even that lately."

You knew which game Mammon meant, because it was the only game app you'd ever seen on Asmo's phone. You'd watch him play in moments of boredom, swiping his screen with a completely blank look of concentration as he matched the colors of the gems in rows and columns, and they burst into sparkles. 

"Ugh, of course you haven't seen me play, I finished it. I have to wait until they add new levels."

"Didn't that game have like ten thousand levels already?" you asked. "You mean you passed all of them?"

"Eleven thousand and sixty five," Asmo corrected primly. "And yes, I did them all. I have to wait until they add more now. I asked."

The room fell into shocked silence at this. Even Levi looked mildly dyspeptic at the thought of completing eleven thousand levels of a match-3 game. You'd played it yourself for a while, and past the two hundredth level, the number of complicated mechanics the game introduced had completely broken you.

"Anyway," Mammon said after a few more beats of silence. He gestured to the screen, where Asmo was flicking between two shirt options. "This thing got co-op or somethin'?"

You finished your chips, and folded away the empty bag. When you picked up your D.D.D., fifty five minutes had passed.

"Still five minutes left," you muttered to Levi while Asmo and Mammon bickered over the choice of pants. "Wanna play the long odds and see if the twins show up too?"

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," Levi grumbled. "I let way too many people waltz in here. I'll have to tighten security."

But Levi's heart wasn't really in it, and when he turned to watch Mammon try to swipe Asmo's controller while the latter loudly protested, there was almost a smile threatening to spread over Levi's face.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Field Medicine - on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Jiang Cheng didn’t really like change.

He thought it was a rather justified opinion, as things went – he’d gone through far too much change in his life, staring from the moment Wei Wuxian appeared in his life through to studying at the Cloud Recesses, the indoctrination camp, the loss of his parents and sect, the Sunshot Campaign, and now, even after it was all supposed to be over, Wei Wuxian’s recent change in behavior and personality…

Subconsciously, Jiang Cheng clung to the few things that seemed to remain the same.

Jiang Yanli, for one. No matter what she’d been through, what they’d all been through, she was still his jiejie, warm and wonderful and caring, a refuge from all troubles, and it was so easy to forget how much had changed for her, too. Her engagement to Jin Zixuan had been broken years ago, ages ago, before everything happened and the world irrevocably changed, and yet somehow whenever he had imagined her married, imagined her wedding day, he had always seen her surrounded by the gold of Lanling Jin.

Maybe that was why he was quite so shocked when it was Lan Xichen – First Jade of Lan, Sect Leader Lan, Zewu-jun, the second of the Venerated Triad – who came to him with Jiang Yanli’s arm tucked in his and asked if it would be possible to arrange a date for their marriage.

“To…each other?” he asked, a little stupidly, and then realized how much of an ass he was making of himself. “Uh, of course! I – uh – that is – when did you even meet?”

Jiang Yanli hid a laugh in her sleeve. Lan Xichen was more polite, but there was amusement in his eyes as he recounted the story of how Jiang Yanli had been assisting with medical care during the Sunshot Campaign, how he had been injured on one of his missions, how she had helped him, how they had taken to each other, how he had asked and she had agreed –

When he finished explaining, he lifted up her hand and pressed his lips to it, and for the first time in Jiang Cheng’s life he saw his sister blush and stutter like a girl in love, delight written in every line of her.

His heart gave a pang, and then melted.

She deserved it. She deserved it more than anyone.

“We decided to wait until after the war had ended to tell you,” Jiang Yanli told him, and Jiang Cheng understood. “But it has, now, and so…”

“It’s what you want?” he asked her, just to be sure. “I’d always thought, you know…but this, this makes you happy?”

“It does,” his sister said, and there was no doubt in her tone.

“In that case, of course we’ll set the date,” Jiang Cheng said, and reached out to grasp Lan Xichen’s hands – his new brother-in-law’s hands. “You’d better take good care of her, you hear me? Or else we’ll skin you.”

Wei Wuxian would have thought of a better threat, he thought. Wei Wuxian ought to be here for this, for something of this magnitude, but he hadn’t shown his face here today, even though he’d promised he’d be there, just as he promised, just as he’d failed to appear for days –

He was probably still healing from the final battle, Jiang Cheng forcefully reminded himself, even though actually Wei Wuxian had been fairly obviously up and about for a while. He certainly seemed to find enough energy to go to the wine shops to guzzle down liquor even if he didn’t find time to help out with anything else.

Still. Jiang Cheng wasn’t the one who’d used demonic cultivation to save the day; he shouldn’t judge.

“When would you like to announce the engagement?” he asked, and then frowned, abruptly remembering some gossip that had drifted past his ears. “There’s a celebration in the Nightless City tonight, but I heard…”

He hesitated.

“What?” Jiang Yanli asked, her brow furrowing. “What’s wrong, A-Cheng?”

“I’ve probably heard wrong,” he said, even though he didn’t think he had. “And anyway it’s just rumors, rumors I discounted at once, because I don’t think Sect Leader Jin would – I mean, certainly not without telling us in advance – well -”

“What did you hear?” Lan Xichen asked. There was no judgement in his voice at Jiang Cheng’s stuttering, merely quiet, steady concern. 

He’d be a good brother-in-law.

“I heard,” Jiang Cheng said reluctantly, “that he…that he was thinking of proposing that we reestablish the old engagement. Jiejie and Jin Zixuan.”

He’d heard that Sect Leader Jin planned to surprise them with the proposal in the middle of dinner. Anyone else and he would have dismissed the entire thing out of hand for sheer shamelessness, but with Sect Leader Jin he really couldn’t say for sure.

“I would say no, of course,” JIang Yanli said, and the quickness and surety of her answer relieved him.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said, flashing a brief smile at them both. “But I don’t know if we have time to announce it to everyone before the celebration, and if we let the Jin sect ask and then reject them, they might…”

“It would not be outside the realm of possibility for Sect Leader Jin to take offense for a perceived slight, such as the notion, however mistaken, that we have played him for a fool,” Lan Xichen said, frowning thoughtfully. “And being as his sect is helping to fund both of our sect’s reconstructions, that could be troublesome…I have an idea, actually, if you don’t mind being the subject of a little gossip.”

“Gossip? For a good purpose?” Jiang Cheng said, his voice dry without even meaning to be. “That’d be a nice change.”

“In that case, I’ll leave the two of you now to go set it up. Leave it in my hands,” Lan Xichen said with a smile, releasing Jiang Yanli’s hand and bowing far deeper than he had to – Jiang Cheng made an immediate sound of protest and tried to catch him, but he carried on – and then he left, striding away purposefully.

“You’re going to get married,” Jiang Cheng said to his older sister, abruptly excited, and pulled her close. “Oh, jiejie…!”

“I’m happy,” she said, and she looked it – she looked radiant. “I’m so happy, A-Cheng!”

“You deserve every happiness in the world,” Jiang Cheng said. “Wei Wuxian and I will plan you the best wedding, jiejie, you’ll see – oh, where is he? He should be here by now! He’ll miss the celebration tonight!”

As always, he wanted to say. Just like he’s missed everything else to do with the reconstruction, with training the new disciples, with – wasn’t he supposed to help me? Didn’t he promise me to be by my side? Was all of it a lie, did he actually want my position the way mother always thought, or did he just at some point stop caring –

“He knows it’s happening,” she assured him. There was no doubt in her voice. “He’ll be there.”

“But then we won’t be able to tell him in advance…!”

“I’ll tell him it’s my fault for waiting so late to tell you, and of course it’s all Sect Leader Jin’s fault for not telling any of us what he was planning,” Jiang Yanli said. “Don’t worry, A-Cheng.”

Wei Wuxian showed up right before the banquet – without his sword, again – and Jiang Cheng wanted to tell him, but couldn’t. They were surrounded by so many people, and if people found out that Wei Wuxian hadn’t known in advance, it might suggest to them that he was distancing himself from the Jiang sect…

Which wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Don’t act surprised,” Jiang Cheng murmured to Wei Wuxian as they walked in to be greeted by Jin Guangyao. “I’ll explain later.”

Wei Wuxian shot him a curious expression, but then they were talking with Jin Guangyao and all the sects were starting to congregate. Jin Guangshan was walking up to the main seat with an avid expression; he was likely going to start the celebration with a speech soon. There wasn’t time to say more.

What was Lan Xichen planning?

Just as Jiang Cheng thought that, Nie Mingjue, looking through the crowd from his excessive height, caught sight of Lan Xichen and strode over to his sworn brother – the entire room parted to let him pass, as usual, he was a hard man to miss – and then he said, in a voice that appeared almost unintentionally loud, “Xichen! What’s this I hear about you finally proposing? I insist you let me help plan the wedding!”

The entire room stopped paying the slightest bit of attention to anything else.

“Da-ge, please,” Lan Xichen said, although he was clearly smiling. Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell at this distance, but he would bet money that his eyes were curved up in suppressed laughter.

Nor could he blame him. Using Nie Mingjue’s horn-blast of a voice to “unintentionally” spread the information was a brilliant move – everyone knew Nie Mingjue was often over-loud, especially when he was being enthusiastic, and what was more natural than a pair of sworn brothers discussing the subject of an upcoming marriage? This way, there would not need to be any public announcement until the formal one, and Jin Guangshan could change his plans without losing face.

“It’s really not necessary,” Lan Xichen continued, pretending to be oblivious to the crowd of onlookers. If Jiang Cheng hadn’t known that he knew, he would have thought he actually was. “We’re only in the most preliminary discussions – we haven’t even set the date. We’re not even ready to announce it!”

Which is why they were going through all of this.

“Nonsense,” Nie Mingjue said. “Spare me your superstitions, Xichen. Not only would no woman in their right mind reject you, there can be no doubt that you and Mistress Jiang will be a wonderful pair, and I have every intention of drinking to your health this very night. Surely you can find someone who can calculate an auspicious date among all the sects gathered here?”

The rest of the room broke out in whispers the second Jiang Yanli was referenced, people starting to turn to stare at Jiang Cheng – Jiang Yanli, out on the balcony with the majority of the female cultivators, was temporarily spared – and at that point, Jin Guangyao materialized by his two sworn brothers’ sides, his smile a little strained (although nowhere near the abrupt scowl appearing on Jin Guangshan’s face), and their conversation dropped down to a more reasonable volume.

Jin Zixuan had something of a constipated expression on his face, too, but Jiang Cheng didn’t give one tiny bit of a damn about that – he’d had his chance. If he learned now, too late, to regret what he had lost, then that was on him. Let him go mourn in private, and leave the rest of them alone.

Jiang Cheng gave the room a mysterious smile, more a smirk really, and stepped on Wei Wuxian’s foot when his shixiong looked like he was going to say something. “You really need to start showing up on time,” he murmured, his voice low. “They agreed on it ages ago, apparently, but only told me today.”

Wei Wuxian nodded dumbly.

They might have managed to actually shock him silent, Jiang Cheng reflected, amused despite himself, and he glanced over at the Venerated Triad again – smiles on all faces, even if he did think Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue looked a bit more natural with it than poor Jin Guangyao – with the thought that they ought to be venerated for this little stunt as well as all their other strengths, and that’s when he suddenly had a moment of absolute brilliance.

“Wei Wuxian, you’re not doing anything right now, right? How about you go to Gusu as jiejie’s representative to negotiate some of the details that need to be covered with the Lan sect?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Dowries and such, that sort of thing. They’ll send someone to us, but under the circumstances we don’t want to put them to too much trouble in terms of travel right now. As sect leader, I really shouldn’t be leaving the Lotus Pier right now, but it’s not the same for you.”

Wei Wuxian was clearly unhappy with the Jiang sect recently, though Jiang Cheng did not know why; the only reasonable assumption was that the problem was with him, maybe, or may be with Wei Wuxian himself. Moreover, he knew Lan Wangji had been on Wei Wuxian’s case about the demonic cultivation, asking him time and time again to go with him to the Cloud Recesses, as if he thought there was something there that could help him…

If setting up this marriage could help convince Wei Wuxian to stop everything he was doing and take up regular cultivation once more, walk him back from the strange road he’d chosen and back to Jiang Cheng’s side, that would be – fantastic.

That was the only thing left. It would make it all perfect.

Before Wei Wuxian could demur, Jiang Cheng added, “Jiejie deserves only the best.”

Wei Wuxian folded at once, as he’d hoped.

Perfect, he thought, pleased with everything. Finally, everything, from now on, can be perfect.

[swiggitswooggit]

Eat my love

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This is my first time ever putting out a fic I’ve written lol

Cw: none, just fluff and gei shit

Although Amber had to abide by a routine for most of the things in her life -- school and the bakery being some of those -- she was far from a person controlled by it. She much preferred her days with a little bit of chaos sprinkled throughout, as she thought it best to be kept on her toes. But Amber is anything if not diligent so she stuck to her routine from the moment she woke up to the time she went to sleep, which usually ended up being rather late -- something her friends couldn’t manage to wrap their heads around given how energetic she was in the morning.

It was this diligence that made her such a valuable employee at the bakery she worked at, and why she chose to take the morning shifts, since she could get out all of that energy that had built up overnight.

The way the light filtered through the large, glass windows; the warm, inviting atmosphere that enveloped you the minute you stepped through those doors; the large display cases showing off the tantalizing sweets carried within; there wasn’t a thing Amber didn’t love about the bakery, including the arduous work that it was to open everyday. Everyday, she unlocked the door and propped it open using a flower pot, then she would head to the back to prep the specialty pastries. 

Although the bakery was known for its more traditional doughy delights -- various breads, muffins, and cookies being among the customer favorites -- Amber’s heart and stomach would forever lie with the more unconventional sweet and savory options: pineapple roast pork buns, red bean buns and taiyaki, dango. The flavors just worked, and although it made her a little sad that these items weren’t as popular among customers, that just meant that at the end of the day there was more for her.

‘Don’t worry, you beautiful buns, I love you even if no one else can realize how bangin you are’ humming to herself softly, Amber arranged the trays of pastries, opened the register, and waited for the morning crowd to flow in.

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

“Thank you, have a nice day!” smiling brightly, Amber thanked the customer as they walked out the door, eyes drifting to the clock above the entrance.

The chime of the bells rang in Amber’s ears and her eyes shot up to see a sharply dressed woman walk into the bakery, eyes trained on the phone in her hand. She was rather tall and there was something about the way she carried herself that made her seem icy and unapproachable. Surprisingly, she didn’t seem stiff or rigid like Amber had expected, but rather she walked with a lightness that was characteristic of dancers. Was she a dancer? No, that couldn’t be -- she was dressed as a businesswoman, after all. Maybe she took dance classes when she was younger and that was why she was so light on her feet. What type of dance did she study? Would she answer if Amber asked-

“... do you recommend?”

“H-huh? I’m sorry, what were you saying?” God, this was embarrassing. Cheeks heating up, stumbling over her words, all Amber could feel was pure mortification at having zoned out in front of a customer.

A delicate eyebrow raised before she responded, “What do you recommend?”

“Oh, well, personally I really love these guys,” she gestured to the far end of the display case. “They’re pink peppercorn madeleines! People are put off by them ‘cuz of the peppercorns, but the taste isn’t super overwhelming and it’s a little fruitier!”

“Can I try one?”

“Yes, of course.” Picking up a madeleine with a pair of tongs, Amber placed it on a napkin and passed it over the counter to the office lady. Usually, she didn’t stress too much about whether or not customers liked the sweets; ideally, everyone would try the pastries and fall so in love they’d become dedicated customers from that point forward, but Amber understood how everyone had differing tastes. Despite this, Amber couldn’t help her nerves as she watched the office lady raise the madeleine to her lips.

Please, please, please like it 

Letting out a low hum of satisfaction, a small smile spread across the office lady’s face, “I’ll take five of these.”

“Okay, five madeleines it is then, will that be all?”

“Yes, that will be all.” Already digging through her purse, the office lady pulled out an exorbitant amount of cash and exchanged it for the paper bag filled with madeleines, turning on her heel towards the door.

Amber scrambled with the wad of cash calling out after her, “W-wait! This is way too much, don’t you want your change?” At that she stopped and turned back to look at the girl behind the counter, frazzled from the bizarreness of the exchange.

“What, you let me try out the product and expect me not to pay for it? What type of person do you take me for? I’ll remember this.” Despite the threatening nature of her words, they carried no malice, only a light teasing tone that had Amber’s head feeling fuzzy.

“Oh, well, thank you! Have a nice day!” She called out after the office lady, but she had already crossed the threshold from the bakery into the street and was walking further and further away.

Please come back 

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

The madeleines must’ve beaten out all the other bakeries and coffee shops in the area, because she came back everyday after that, always being early enough to beat the morning crowd, always keeping conversation short and to the point. Amber didn’t mind too much, not everyone is a morning person, she gets it. Still, it would be nice if she could get to know the only other regular who appreciated the same pastries she loved so much.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” Unlike with other customers, Amber didn’t bother to watch the office lady leave, she already knew she wouldn’t get a response and she was fine with giving the office lady her space. Already focused on her next task, she failed to notice how the sound of steps had stopped for a moment.

“You too.” Amber’s head shot up just as office lady walked out the door with her matcha croissant, mouth agape. Seconds passed before her words finally sank in, and when they did Amber felt pure joy erupt through her; pumping her fists, tapping her feet, and hopping around she let out an ecstatic “yes” at having finally made progress.

“Um, excuse me? Am I interrupting something?” Oh God, the embarrassment. This was almost as bad as when she’d completely zoned out in front of the office lady, during their first meeting. Of course, she hadn’t seen Amber act like a complete fool, but she couldn’t decide which was worse: completely ignoring what a customer is saying or acting like you’re on crack in front of them. Wait, customer, the customer!

“Oh, no, no, no, not all! Sorry about that, anyways, what can I get for you?”

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

  Things developed more and more from there; it seemed like office lady was finally comfortable enough to start making actual conversation, although Amber still didn’t know her name yet. That was fine though, and she was happy with just getting to know the enigmatic woman. Among some of the first things she learned were that she came from a wealthy family, but she was estranged from them now; she had taken dance classes as a child -- flamenco and tango --  and still danced in her free time; she something something. The more her icy exterior melted away, the more Amber was drawn to her, and the thing she looked forward to the most when opening the bakery in the morning.

The bell above the door chimed, signalling the entrance of a customer, “Good morning, what can I get for you- oh, hi! What will it be today? Oh, there are these pineapple roast pork buns that we have: so good!” 

“I’ll take two of those, then.” She was straight to the point as usual, but there was a warmth in her tone that hadn’t been there during the first times she visited the bakery.

Well, this was a surprise. She usually asked to try anything before buying, “Are you sure you don’t want a sample before buying?”

“No, your recommendations haven’t ever been bad so I trust you.” There it was again; that warm tone that had Amber’s stomach doing backflips.

“O-oh, really?! Well, that’s a surprise,” stumbling over her words, Amber fought to keep down the blush rising on her cheeks. Her efforts were in vain, if the gleam in office lady’s eye as she looked her over was anything to go by.

“Are you implying that I’m a bad judge of character?”

“No, no, not at all,” scrambling with the tongs, and placing the two buns inside a paper bag, Amber averted her eyes. “Well, here are your buns, Miss. Enjoy them, and have a nice day!”

She took the bag, but she didn’t move from her spot on the other side of the counter, she simply looked at Amber, thinking. Finally, she said “Eula, my name is Eula. Well then, have a nice day.”

‘Eula’ Amber thought, as she watched the newly named woman walk out of the bakery.

“Eula.” She said it out loud this time, and found that she liked how it sounded. She’d have to say her name more often, and introduce herself properly the next time Eula came in for her morning sweets.

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

Unfortunately, it would be quite some time before Amber next saw Eula. The next day came and went, and there was no sign that she was coming. This continued on for the rest of the week, and with each day that passed the crushing anxiety that she had done or said something wrong grew and grew. The weekend came, and while usually Amber would be ecstatic at having the opportunity to take a break from school, her mind couldn’t help but drift over to thoughts of Eula and what she could be doing.

‘I hope she hasn’t found another bakery.’ At that thought she sank deeper into the couch she was curled up in, and furrowed her brows as her mouth formed a pout. ‘I bet their buns aren’t as good as ours, and they probably don’t even have pink peppercorn madeleines! You know what, they probably don’t even know what matcha is!’

“Amber!”

“H-huh, what’d I miss?” Knocked out of her thoughts by her friend’s call of her name, she looked up to find her friends all staring at her; some with expressions of varying degrees of concern, others with pure amusement in their eyes. She quickly apologized and paid attention to the conversation at hand, but her thoughts always drifted back to Eula

‘I really hope she hasn’t found another bakery.’

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

When the chime of the bell rang out, Amber quickly fixed her expression and greeted the customer. “Good morning, what can I get for you today…”  her words died off when she saw who exactly had walked into the bakery.

Standing there, looking as stunning as she had when they had first met, was Eula.

“Oh, hey, what can I get for you?” As Amber spoke, the anxiety and longing she had been feeling all of last week and over the weekend came back tenfold, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Did I do something wrong? Or did I make you uncomfortable or angry?”

It was clear from her expression that Eula was taken aback by the question, and for the first time, she looked unsure of herself, nervous even. She took a breath and then, “Yes, actually, I’m quite upset with you.” With those words, Amber’s face collapsed, and if Eula noticed she didn’t address it, and instead continued talking. “First of all, there was you ignoring me when we first met,” she raised her hand, ticking off Amber’s offenses as she spoke, “then, you thought I was some type of freeloader, and didn’t expect me to pay for that sample you gave me. And finally,” as she listed the final offense a small grin spread across her face, “you implied that I was a bad judge of character when I said I trusted you.”

“Now then Miss, how do you expect to pay me back for all your wrongs against me?”

If this had been early on in their pseudo-relationship, Amber would have been prepared for the worst. She would’ve gotten on her knees and begged for mercy, but now given how she had gotten to know Eula, all she could hear was the teasing lilt in her voice that made her head feel all fuzzy. Maybe it was the way her head was all clouded, or maybe it was her desperation to have something more with Ella, so she took a chance and said, “I have an idea, actually, so hear me out. There’s this restaurant nearby, they have this amazing honey roast. If you’re free this weekend, then maybe, we could go together? I’ll be paying, of course!”

“It’s a date, then, miss…”

“Oh, Amber! It’s Amber.” Her face had to have been on fire by now, and she couldn’t contain the bright smile that split her face. She calmed down a little, when Eula held out her phone, asking for her number, heart beating out of her chest all the while. When Eula’s phone was back in her hand, she gave Amber a smile that could have almost been shy if it wasn’t for the light in her eyes. They then said their goodbyes, and Eula left for work.

‘Wow’ Amber thought, collapsed against the counter now. Her eyes drifted over to the far end of the display case, where the pink peppercorn madeleines were, and she softly smiled.

[the-himawari]

A3! Mizuno Kaya - Translation [SSR] The Company President of April 1st (1/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

I’m Tachibana Izumi, and starting today, I’ve become a new employee working at MIZUNO Enterprise! It seems I’m the only employee who’s been recruited this year due to various circumstances, so I’m a little bit anxious…

But this is the start of my adult working life I’ve been longing for.

I’m not sure where I’m going to be assigned yet, but no matter which job is entrusted to me, I’ll do my best so I can contribute to the company...!

-pause-

Isuke: Good afternoon, Tachibana-san! I haven’t seen you since orientation, huh? How do you do? I’m the Human Resources manager, Matsukawa. It’s very nice to meet you.

Izumi: N-nice to meet you! (The Human Resources manager Matsukawa-san; I was surprised at first at his tattered suit that looks unbecoming for a large company…) (But I felt moved when I heard that it was a way for others to let their guard down, and it’s his belief that he wants to cherish things.)

Isuke: Ahaha, are you nervous? It’ll be fine. You may be our only recent-grad hire this year, but don't worry since we plan to support you fully!

Izumi: Thank you very much.

Isuke: Now then, you will take a tour of each department today to gain a better understanding of the various aspects of our work. At MIZUNO Enterprise, we value the independence of our employees—. So after getting a look at the work that we do, you may provide your own request on where you’d like to be assigned. And we will respect it to the best of our abilities.

Izumi: Oh, really…! (As I expected, the company culture sure is free.)

Isuke: So then, he will take it from here. Please go ahead.

Mizuno: Yes.

Izumi: (!?!? MIZUNO Enterprise’s President, Mizuno Kaya…!?)

Mizuno: Good afternoon, I’m Mizuno Kaya. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Izumi: Y-yes! It’s nice to meet you!

Mizuno: Now then, how about we get going, Tachibana-san?

-pause-

Izumi: (It’s the first time I’m meeting with the President up close since the final interview…)

Mizuno: Sorry for startling you there. As the President, I must be able to properly explain both the company’s positive points and negative points myself—. And it’s a tradition to have the President personally give a tour of the departments to the new hires.

Izumi: I see… (I was surprised at the amazing reception, but I’m grateful for this valuable opportunity. Let’s listen properly to what he has to say.)

-pause-

Mizuno: Here are our offices. Come in. We have a variety of departments in order for the company to function, including Administrative departments such as the the Human Resources department that Matsukawa-san from earlier belongs to.

Izumi: (Woah…! It’s bustling in here.) (That department over there in particular is especially lively.)

Mizuno: Ahh, those guys over there are the members of the Sales department. Shall we head on over?

Tenma: Yeah, in that case, leave it to me. Of course, I’ll definitely deliver results that exceed your expectations. I’ll create the best product that will surprise and leave anyone impressed. Hmph, ME!!! I'm the one in charge here. I’ll make you think it was a good decision to entrust it to me, so look forward to it.

Mizuno: He’s Sumeragi-kun. He’s famous as he’s called the smug-faced salesman and he’s extremely dependable.

Izumi: (I wonder if his smug face conveys to the customer through the telephone receiver… That’s some amazing technology.)

Yuki: The design of this document I made is cute and easy on the eyes, right? Fufu, are you interested? Then let me let you a story… One of our company’s dazzling management philosophies is…

Mizuno: Over there is the beautiful salesman, Rurikawa-kun. He has many fans of his unique aura as well.

Muku: Awawawa, I’m a tri-coloured ballpen where only one of the colours has ran out. And I'm a flimsy, fluttering piece of scrap paper that’s been shredded—. I can’t believe I’m being praised like that…! B-but I’m happy you said so. If there is anything I can help you with, please let me know!

Mizuno: Sakisaka-kun’s called the negative salesman, but he’s humble, earnest, and very kind.

Misumi: How’s the triangle over here~? I recommend this triangle too! By triangle, you mean a triangle~? Yay!

Mizuno: Triangle salesman Ikaruga-kun is a mysterious person… He has more passion towards triangles than anyone else, and everyone is won over by his presentation.

Kumon: Yep, please let me know anytime! I’LL HELP YOU WITH ALL MY ABSOLUTE MIGHT!! I can ride my bike long distances at 100km/h, and I’m totally fine with meetings starting at 4 in the morning too! I’ll definitely, definitely do my best, SO PLEASE CHOOSE OUR COMPANY!!

Mizuno: The hot-blooded, sporty salesman, Hyodo-kun, is a very hard worker and that fire and cheerfulness energizes you.

Izumi: Everyone’s so distinctive, brilliant, and they’re really wonderful people!

Mizuno: Indeed. And the one with the best performance in the Sales department is…

Kazunari: That, and that, and this too—everything’s a-okaaaay! ‘Kay, just leave everything to me~! Got it, piko! Beri-san~! Oh-em-gee, for real! I totes feel you~! It’s wicked lit and hella full of feelsies, right!*

Mizuno: The party dude salesman Kazunari-kun takes pride in his overwhelming communication power. He was also the top sales performer in March.

Izumi: Amazing…!

Tenma: Damn it, just you wait and see. I’ll become the top in April.

Kumon: UWOHH, I’m not gonna lose either!

Muku: M-me neither…!

Izumi: (Woah, woah… sparks are flying…!)

Mizuno: Even so, those guys go out to play after work together and their synergy is impressive as well.

Izumi: ! Oh, really…! (I see, they’re good rivals and coworkers. I bet their private lives are fulfilling too.)

Misumi: Ah, President-san~!

Muku: Could it be, is the person with you the rumoured new employee?

Mizuno: Yes. I’m just giving her a tour of the departments.

Izumi: I’m Tachibana Izumi. It’s nice to meet you!

Misumi: Wahh, nice to meet you~!

Kazunari: Oh man, you’re a fresh, super cutie, huh! Like, legit swooned! Hey, hey, let’s exchange LIMEs, new hire-chan!

Kumon: That’s not fair, Kazu-san! I wanna become friends with Tachibana-san too!

Tenma: Heh, you do seem motivated, and you’ve got quite a good eye. What do you think, how about you come to the Sales department?

Misumi: Working together with you sounds so fun~!

Yuki: That’s fine, right? I’ll teach you lots of different things if you join.

Muku: We’d be delighted to have you! Of course, please call out to me anytime even if you decide to join a different department.

Kazunari: You’d seriously be super duper welcome! I’ll lend a hand for anything and I’ll be here for you ☆

Izumi: Wahh, thank you all very much!

Mizuno: Fufu, Tachibana-san, you’re a huge hit right away, hm?

???: Ohh, ohh, y’all at the Sales department!

Izumi: !?

---

*Yeah I took some liberties here cause not even google could comprehend this slang lmao

| next

[yoonieboonie]

The Substitute Lover (2)

word count: 1.7k

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you've been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you're really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is part 2!!! i cant figure out how to link the first part properly but if you know how pls slide into my dms and teach me hehe you can find part 1 at my tumblr profile. thank you for the love on the first chapter!!! 🥺 i'll do my best!!! NEXT | PREVIOUS

As soon as you're out of the view, Hoseok immediately swung an arm around Yoongi's shoulder. He was delighted for his friend, afterall, it has been a while since he was in a relationship.

Yoongi took what happened to heart. Namjoon noticed, it didn't take a genius to. He warningly eyed Hoseok who pretended not to see him. The mint haired boy shrugged off the hand and faced them.

"It's your fault, Hoba." He sighed, using the nickname they had for their energetic friend. "She's a senior and isn't around the campus much but news here spread like wildfire. I don't want her to think—" he continued but Hoseok cut him off.

"Think what? Listen, Yoongi. It's over between you two, it has been for a long time. I think it's time you quit moping and start giving yourself a chance to be happy again." This made Yoongi snap his head towards him. Hoseok may be chatty but he always knew not to cross that line. Both him and Namjoon did. What happened was considered taboo and was never spoken about, no matter how long ago it was.

"What did that Y/N feed you? Aren't I your friend here?" He challenged. Hoseok was about to answer when Namjoon intervened. He patted both of the men on the shoulder to kill the tension arising.

"Let's head to rehearsals, please. I don't want to be the receiving end of Mrs. Lee's anger today."

The auditorium was crowded, all students that are part of the recital are scattered around. Since the trio are all helping the backstage crew, they immediately went to their place and settled in.

"Where have you guys been?" Mijin whispered. They all shrugged in return, she wouldn't rat them out. Knowing well that she would do anything to cover up for Yoongi. Though she acts nonchalant about it, she has been crushing on him since their freshmen years.

"Just do your job and don't fuck this up. Please." She pleaded. All the trio did was nod.

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

You are now banging your head on the library table, earning looks from the other students who are procrastinating due to the upcoming finals. If the stake wasn't this high, you wouldn't be this stressed about it. You mentally scold yourself for acting so bold that day. For all you know, Yoongi might be a secret genius and that leaves you making a damn fool out of yourself not only in front of Hoseok and Namjoon but the entire campus aswell.

News of your mess spread quickly, the girl who wore thick-glasses and ugly sweaters asking the ace of the Music department out. You try and avoid their stares and focused on your notes. Praying to the heavens that you at least score decent enough if not scoring higher than Yoongi.

At this point, you don't even bother for the date. You just want to do your best. That is until it was time for your Humanities class again. Your hands are clammy as the test paper are handed out. You prepared for the test but somehow, your heart is pounding out of your chest.

You easily navigate through the questions but one left you confused. You try to recall the answer for a good five minutes but eventually gave up. If you don't know it now, you'll probably not know it later. That is until all papers have been passed and it was time to exit the classroom that a lightbulb went off in your head.

"Plato." you whine. The answer was Plato. You rub your fingers to your temple and let out a frustrated groan.

"Y/N!" a voice you recognise to be Hoseok called out. Honestly, you don't want to face them today. You are embarrassed still, and you're sure if looks could kill, you'd be dead at how Yoongi is shooting glares in your direction.

You adjust your backpack and offered a wave.

"Do you already know where you want to go for the date?" Namjoon teased. Hoseok laughed beside him, shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

"Oh," You sigh. "I don't think I'd be able to go on that date."

That made Yoongi look up at you. He should be relieved, he thought. But he was more intrigued as to why you decided against the bet.

"I forgot the answer to Test II, number 5. I left it blank instead, however when I remembered the answer, the papers were already collected." Not that Yoongi cared, but you seemed sad to not be able to go on that date.

"Think positive, Y/N. The deal was to score higher not to have a perfect score." Hoseok encouraged.

"It's okay, what matters was that I tried. I know Yoongi will ace the test. Specially when the stake was a date with me." you shrugged nonchalantly.

You moved towards him and held out a hand. He eyed it skeptically before lifting his arm to shake it.

"Wait! The results are not out yet!" Namjoon whined. If he was initially opposed to this, he no longer was. He was just as invested as Hoseok was. Pushing you to win against Yoongi.

You laughed and took a step back. "Alright then. If I do win, I want to go to Lotte World."

"You haven't been there?" Hoseok asked. You shook your head.

"I came from Daegu. This is my first time in Seoul and I haven't been able to roam around due to our classes. Besides, I don't see the point entirely but if I would go on a date, I would like it to be there."

Yoongi pretended to not pay attention. It made sense that you were not from the metro. The way you dress and your things are certainly not what a typical college student would wear to the campus. To add to that, he now does notice an accent from the way you speak.

"Namjoon!" a voice called over. It was Mijin, if you recall correctly, she was also part of the rehearsals the trio attended. Hoseok introduced the both of you the first time you had lunch with them. Taking that as a cue to leave, you gathered your things and went home.

The week flew by and before you know it, it was time for the exam results. You were dreading to attend class but not wanting to look like a sore loser, you got ready for the day.

Yoongi subconsciously kept track of the days too. Instead of practicing and attending rehearsals, he found himself too caught up with waiting for the results. He tried to convince himself that he just wants to ensure that you two never go on that date but he isn't really sure.

His heart was pounding out of his chest as he lay down his bed. He was one of the few lucky ones who doesn't have a roommate. Hoseok and Namjoon were, on the otherhand. Deciding to take the day off, he doesn't really give a fuck if he wins or loses the bet. With that, he turned and covered his head with a pillow, trying to fall back asleep.

"Pay up." Yoongi groaned as he hears Hoseok's voice inside his dorm. Namjoon chuckled and called out to Yoongi.

"Hey, I put my bet on you! Hoba told me you'd be too chicken to attend class today and I didn't believe him but seeing it for myself," he trailed off. Yoongi blindy threw his pillow at the two boys maniacally laughing to his side.

"Get up and get dressed. We're going to be late." Namjoon ordered.

Yoongi decided to not bother arguing with them. He knows he won't be able to get out of this so might as well get it done and over with.

Walking to class was annoying for Yoongi. With Hoseok waving the money Namjoon paid him with in Yoongi's face and dreading the results of the exam. He was fucking frustrated.

You came into view, trying to insert yourself into the crowd of people. Trying to get a view of the results. You failed, being lanky and small. You huff, to which Yoongi watched in amusement. You were something, he thought.

"Y/N!" Hoseok beamed and Namjoon followed. Yoongi trailed behind.

"Oh, I haven't seen the results. I'm waiting for the crowd to die down." You explained. Hoseok, excited to know the results, held onto you and helped you squeeze into the bodies of students trying to get a glimpse of their grade.

Yoongi's eyes trailed from Hoseok's hand that was holding onto both of your arms from behind. He knew that his friend was just eager to know the results in order to rub it in his face but the contact of skin made him feel as if it's something he shouldn't be seeing. It felt as if his eyes were interrupting something.

You seemed uncomfortable, he noted. Hoseok was one to be physically comfortable around people. With occasional brushes of hands or an arm around shoulders, you can always expect it from him. Yoongi knew this but he was still somehow bothered by it.

"Yoongi." He was snapped out of his daze when you called for him. He saw your tiny figure offer him a hand.

"Congratulations, Yoongi. It was a great bet." You spoke calmly. He wondered what the results were. To confirm, he didn't shake your hands but instead took a look at it for himself.

FINALS RESULT SY 20XX-20XX

1. Kim Namjoon -100/100

2. Min Yoongi and L/N F/N - 99/100

3. --------------

4. --------------

5. --------------

6. --------------

7. Jung Hoseok -89/100

8. --------------

9. --------------

10. --------------

His eyes widened. He realised you congratulated him because technically, you didn't score higher than him. You didn't win.

Hoseok and Namjoon was chatting with you, patting your back as you smiled at them in return. Assuring them that it's okay and you'll go to Lotte World another time.

"Don't worry, Y/N. Hoba and I would bring you to Lotte World soon!" Namjoon beamed.

You laughed in glee and thanked both of them.

You were about to walk away when Yoongi did something he didn't expect.

"Meet me at the campus gate, 9:00am tomorrow. Don't be late."

With that, Yoongi turned and left. Leaving you with your mouth hanging open, Hoseok and Namjoon smiling at you as they try to catch up with their friend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEXT | PREVIOUS

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Plain Sight: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

"Don't forget that I cannot see myself -- that my role is limited to being the one who looks in the mirror." - Jacques Rigaut

Being the youngest one on the team not only made you feel like you needed to work extra hard to prove you were worthy of your place on the team, but it made you feel like an outcast because everyone was so close and tight-knit. The only person you really knew was Gideon, but he was more closer to Hotch than anyone else since they were closer in age than the rest. The person closest to your age is Spencer which is why you feel like you connect more with him than anyone else.

It’s his birthday today, and everyone is celebrating at his desk with cake and trick candles. They seemed to be having a good time, and you didn’t want to join them and ruin their fun. It didn’t feel like you were part of this family just yet since you were fairly new with abilities they’ve never seen before. However, even if you weren’t celebrating with them, you still got Spencer a present. It’s special since you knew he would hold it dear to his heart. You were pretty proud of yourself for finding the exact item you wanted even though you were at the point of ripping your own hair out.

Hotch and Gideon were off to the side to watch the rest of the team celebrate, and you stood by them with your arms crossed shyly.

“Make a wish!” Elle grinned.

“Come on man! Blow, baby blow!” Derek teased when Spencer kept blowing at his candles despite them not going out.

“I thought you are full of hot air, Reid,” Elle joked.

“Come on, Reid.”

“They're trick candles, Spence, okay? They gonna come back on every time,” JJ caved in after seeing him try so hard to blow them out.

Derek grabbed the ends of Spencer’s big blue birthday hat and shoved it further down on his head with a huge smile.

“Oh, mommy to rescue you!”

“Mommy?” Spencer scoffed, shaking off his friend.

“Is it amazing he knows what he knows and he's only 24?” Hotch asked his friend with a shocked smile.

“Imagine what he’ll know by fifty.”

“I’m twenty-two,” you spoke up, causing both heads to turn to you.

“Why aren’t you over there with them?” Gideon asked.

“I don’t feel like I’m part of the family just yet. I mean, I’m the youngest, so I feel like they think I’m a kid or something. I don’t know. I’m weird,” you chuckled nervously.

“Hey, lil’ mama,” Derek called out for you when he noticed you off to the side. “Come on.”

“Yeah, come over here,” Spencer smiled.

Once he chimed in, the rest of the team wanted you to join them. Blushing, you hesitantly walked over to the group, and Derek wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“You’re part of this team now. You’ve proven yourself,” he grinned.

“Thanks, Derek,” you smiled right back.

“You blew wax on the cake, man,” Derek scoffed playfully, taking his arm away to help cut the cake.

Spencer got up to replace your spot next to Gideon since Hotch needed to take a call.

“Is this homemade or store bought?” you asked.

“I made it,” JJ smiled widely.

“Wow, this looks amazing and I bet it tastes amazing too,” you chuckled.

She put the first piece of cake on the plate, turned to Spencer, and called out to him.

“Hey Spence, first piece for the birthday boy,” she smiled.

Spencer looked from her to you, and you gave him a shy smile with a wave. He said something to Gideon before heading over, and he took the plate.

“Thank you.”

“Birthday boy,” you sang, taking a piece of cake that JJ handed you.

“When’s your birthday?”

“Not long after yours. Mine’s in February. I’ll be twenty-three. Sometimes I feel like I’m too young to be here.”

“I know that feeling,” he chuckled.

“Sorry, guys,” Hotch interrupted as he set the phone down with a sigh, “the party's over.”

The team knew what that meant, so they packed everything they could as fast as they could so they could discuss the case you knew was waiting for you in the briefing room. Each team member started for the stairs, but you grabbed Spencer’s arm to hold him back for a second.

“Sorry, I just, um… I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I got you something. A birthday present.”

“You did? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but, um, you’ll have to wait until the end of the case to get it.”

“Why?”

“It gives you something to look forward to, yeah? Plus, we usually end cases at night, and I know you were born at night so why not make it memorable.”

“You remembered what time I was born?” he asked, shocked you took the time to do so.

“Reid, Y/N, let’s go,” Hotch announced from the conference room.

“Why wouldn’t I remember that?” you asked, brushing past him to rush to the conference room.

Spencer looked at you as you left, and he couldn’t help but give a hint of a smile at that piece of information. The files were already passed out, and you and Spencer took your seats so that everyone else could begin. There was no need to apologize since Hotch just jumped right into this one.

“We're going to San Diego.”

“Not for the surfing, huh?” Derek commented.

“They're calling him the Tommy killer. Six women raped and murdered in their homes in the last three weeks,” JJ shared.

“Six in three weeks? That's a short fuse,” you whistled.

“And getting shorter. The first two were eight days apart then the next four in two weeks.”

“Rapid escalation. Do you think he's regressing to a psychopathic frenzy?” Spencer asked.

“No, he's too controlled for that. See you on the plane,” Hotch answered, getting up to leave the room. However, before he could, Derek stopped him with a question.

“Why the Tommy killer?”

“You know the rock opera? This unsub glues the victims' eyes wide open.”

“He wants them to see him,” Spencer noted.

“And feel him,” you added.

“Brenda Samms was found yesterday by her children when they got home from school. She had been strangled with a thin ligature, possibly a wire. No weapon was left at the scene,” Hotch ran over the details of the case once everyone was on the plane.

Since it was one of the smaller jets, everyone was in close proximity of each other with you and Spencer seated next to each other, JJ, Gideon, and Elle in the middle, Hotch across from you and Spencer, and Derek all by his lonesome towards the front.

“The residue on the wrist and mouth indicate that duct tape was used and then removed. Also not found at the scene,” Spencer remarked. “Brought it with him, took it with him.”

“He also started leaving messages at the fourth scene,” Hotch explained, reading from one of the quotes left on the mirror at the latest victim’s house. “This was on the mirrors. ‘Fair lady, throw those costly robes aside. No longer may you glory in your pride. Take leave of all your carnal, vain delight’.”

“I’ve come to summon you away this night,” Spencer finished. “It's a ballad from the late 1600s. A dialogue betwixt death and a lady.”

“A 17th century ballad?” you thought.

“Essentially, a woman begging death to live.”

“What kind of person knows this ballad? Are we looking for a literature professor?” Elle wondered.

“Anyone with an internet connection, actually. You should see what comes up when you type the word ‘death’ into a search engine,” Spencer chuckled.

“Reid, no wonder you can't get a date,” Derek teased, but it wiped the smile off the young doctor’s face. 

Leaning over the small space, you got close enough to his ear so that only he could hear you.

“Don’t listen to him, Spencer. You’re a catch,” you patted him on the shoulder before sliding back into your normal position.

“Reid, you stay on the messages. See if there's a deeper meaning,” Hotch ordered.

“It definitely looks like he ransacked the crime scene pretty well. A lot of damage, but nothing seems to be taken,” you observed.

“The eyes are the thing, the signature. The behavior that isn't necessary for the murder, but necessary for the emotional release. That's what he's there for,” Gideon stated.

“There used to be a widely held belief that the eyes record a snapshot of the last thing a person sees before they die.”

“Yeah, that's right. People used to write poems about talking to death,” Derek commented.

“Ballads,” Spencer corrected him.

“Whatever.”

“You think they'll ever run out of new things to do with their victims?” Elle asked.

“Well, finding new ways to hurt each other is what we're good at,” Gideon sighed.

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[ssson-of-sparda]

Two Dresses (Dante x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Patty desperately wants to know what happened between Dante and Y/N. Hopefully, Morrison is here to help. (Part 3 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2)

Tags: Pre DMC3 Dante / Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Fluff / Slight ANgst / Implied Sexual Content / Explicit Language

Author’s note: Part 3 is out. Sorry for keeping you waiting. The story is coming to its end. Only one or two chapters left.

MISSION 3

Indifference is the worst form of contempt. But how can you be indifferent when a squeaking tiny voice as unbearable as fingernails on a chalkboard constantly splits your ears with endless whining? Dante wished to know.        “Pleeeeaase Dante. You promised.” Patty begged again as she almost sprawled on the man’s desk, strangely not caring about the grease or the tomato sauce that were disgustingly splattered on the wooden surface.      “I didn’t do such thing.” Dante nonchalantly took a bite of his pizza, trying to ignore Patty’s pleading blue eyes and her feeble attempt at convincing him to tell her the rest of his ‘love story’ (she had decreed it was one) with Y/N. “Come on, Dante! You have to tell me!” The frustration in every single word coming out of her mouth was growing stronger. You could hear it in the way her voice was becoming more and more piercing by the minute. And in spite of all the time spent with Patty, Dante had never succeeded in really ignoring her childish whims. “Don’t you watch TV shows?” She added. “You know full well I don’t.” And it was the truth. Except for adults programs once in a while, Dante cared less about television, contrary to Patty who was a professional binge-watcher capable of watching a dozen of episodes a day and still yearning for more.        “Well, even if you don’t, haven’t you ever experienced the frustration of a cliffhanger? Like, in Bolero in Spring, when Jenna has a car accident right after she decides to run after Josh to finally tell him he is the love of her life and that she loves him too and you know you’ll have to wait a whole week to know what happens next?”                Dante’s brain shut down after the first question, or maybe even before that, finding a not-so-surprising fascination for the slices of salami on his pizza and their perfectly round shapes. “Like I told you, I don’t watch TV.”      “Haven’t you ever longed for anything?”            “Yes actually. Right now, I long for peace … and quiet … and for you to finally shut up.” The girl glared at him, shooting daggers at him as sharp as a thousand Rebellions.

“What’s going on here?” Relief immediately shone in both Patty’s and Dante’s eyes when Morrison pushed the door of Devil May Cry, replacing the tension in the room with paternal warmth that was so like him.                 “Morrison! You got to help me. Dante doesn’t want to tell me what happened between him and Y/N” She complained with her small fists clenched tightly, a childish attitude that would have made Morrison smile if it hadn’t been for his surprise.“ You told Patty about Y/N? How weird of you.” “Not for free.”  “You know her, Morrison?” There was a gleam in Patty’s eyes, one only curiosity and excitement could create.       “By reputation. Everybody in the mercenary business knew who she was and was aware not to touch a hair on her head. I bet even demons knew. Y/N. Tony Redgrave’s beautiful girlfriend. And probably the only girl that could make Dante act somewhat … mature.” He said as he chose his words wisely, though he wasn’t sure they were fit for the memories of Dante he had in mind.                  “ What are you talking about? I’ve always been mature.”        “ Yeah. Because eating strawberry sundaes and pizza everyday is very adult.” Dante frowned, pretty sure he had once heard a similar reprimand coming from someone else’s mean mouth. His mother? No … but close. “Have you been spending time with Trish lately?”           “ Stop changing the subject and tell me the story!” Dante eyed at Morrison with an insisting look that meant ‘Get me the hell out of here.’ but today, he would not receive any help from his friend. “You know she won’t let go, Dante. So, should I tell her or should you?”              Dante sighed. “Two dresses off my tab and it’s yours.”

TWO DRESSES

Two star-crossed lovers in fair Redgrave City, where we lay our scene …

Are you kidding me?! What? I thought you loved that kind of lovey-dovey crap. Dante! Fine …

The rest of the story was no Shakespearian play. There was no betrayal, no sword fighting, no friend or parent tragically murdered, no forbidden love, no unfair ending, no … Who was Dante kidding? There was all that and worse. Another reason why he hated Shakespeare so much.                But when love started to bloom and with it the chances at a normal peaceful life, Dante never considered those dramatic events. Not even a slight second. After all, he was an overly enthusiastic nineteen year-old with the girl of his dreams on his arm and a long-awaited roof above his head. What could go wrong? Especially when all he thought about, all he imagined were simple mornings waking up with the one he loved so dearly and nights with his silver head in between…

“In between what?” “ Y/N’s fingers... Y/N’s fingers of course.” “ You’re not so good at making this story family-friendly you know that, Dante?” “I’m doing my best here, Morrison.”

And his epicurean – though quite lewd - plans were all shared to the utter despair of Y/N’s parents who constantly reminded Y/N of the big mistake she was making in getting involved with a boy like ‘that vermin Tony’.                 “What about college? What about that confortable life we wanted for you? How can you throw all this away for that boy?” Dante remembered the time Y/N’s mother had said that with a menacing finger and a poisonous tongue. That and the infamous “Is breeding with that trash and raising his filthy bastards truly what you want Y/N?”    So long the time that family had generously taken him under their roof for a few days. Guess money does make you stuck-up assholes after all. That’s what he had wanted to reply. But instead, he had just stood still, arms crossed over his chest and had remained silent, out of respect for Y/N and also because, deep down, he was sometimes thinking the same.

He wanted the best for Y/N. He wanted to give her the best life had to offer, all the things she wanted, all the things she needed but he only had a few dollars in his pocket and a list of debts he didn’t really know how the erase. And even though she seemed like she didn’t mind now, what would happen in a few years, or even just a few months. What would happen when the little he had to offer would not be enough anymore?

“Will you love me all the same in a few years?” She asked him, soft hands placed over his strong naked chest and (colour) eyes staring deep in his looking for the truth. “I’m sure I will love you even more if that’s anything possible.”               “Then stop worrying and stop with the silly questions already.” And she kissed him with all the comfort and the love she could gather. She kissed him like there was no tomorrow, like there was just them, only them, together, on that mattress on the floor in this furniture-less and decaying shop he had just been allowed to rent for an astronomical amount of money. “A neon sign.” “ What?” Dante asked a bit confused.                  “You should get a neon sign, like the one my parents had at the restaurant.” She added with a soft smile. “You want me to get a pink neon sign?” He joked and took delight when she laughed. She was so insanely beautiful when she was laughing. “It wasn’t pink. It was red.”                “ My coat is red. That sign was definitely pink. And pink doesn’t scream ‘menacing devil-hunter in the house’?” “Menacing devil-hunter?” She repeated, arching an eyebrow suspiciously. “Where?” Dante looked at her smirking mockingly at him. “Watch it you!” He pushed her on the mattress and went to lie his burning yet still sweaty body over hers to place a multitude of hungry lovely kisses on her neck, wishing this moment would never end.

But it ended, as all good things end eventually. Thanks to Enzo Ferino, once again. That piece of shit had the knack to ruin things after all.                “Tony! Per l’amore di Dio! Tony!” He shouted from downstairs, visibly alarmed if not terrified. “Speaking of the Italian midget.” Dante sighed, his lips still on Y/N’s skin, thinking that maybe ignoring Enzo would make him leave. “Tony!!!”           “Damn it.”          “Pretty sure the menacing devil-hunter hiding in this shop will scare him away?” Y/N taunted again and Dante grinned before pressing his lips on Y/N’s one last time. “Oh, he sure will. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Dante said as he reluctantly left his girl’s loving embrace to put on a pair of pants and go welcome his unwanted guest fidgeting in the hall.                    “ You’d better.”

“It better be important, Enzo.” Dante demanded as he lazily walked down the creaking stairs to show him how annoyed he was to see him here. “You’ve just ruined a perfect moment with my girl.”               “Y/N? Y/N is with you?” The man’s eyes were widened with fear and distress and even though Dante knew how much of a coward Enzo was, he had never seen him that way. “How many girls do you think I have?”  The short man leant against the wall and took a deep sigh. “Well, that’s relief I guess.” Dante frowned, unsure if he should remain annoyed or start asking questions. Hell, why not both. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”     “A man came to Bobby’s Cellar. Looking for you.”          “Not a first.” Dante walked pass Enzo to grab a bottle of whisky he had left early on on one of the many boxes he had not yet unpacked. “One of Denvers’ goons presumably.” He leant against the wall and took a mouthful of amber alcohol, thinking about the girl waiting for him upstairs and how he should have never left her.        “No. Not Denvers. That man was working alone and he asked about a certain Dante.” The half-demon froze for a second and his blue eyes darted a brief astonished glance at his partner. A man looking for Dante - Dante, not Tony - was no good news. “I said I didn’t know any Dante but then he described you and I thought che cacchio è. Then he threatened me and … He was scary, Tony”     “What did you tell him?”  Dante frowned. He had the feeling Enzo had fucked up. He could feel it in his guts. Otherwise he would have never rushed to his new place in the middle of the night to warn him. “That you weren’t here. That you certainly were with Y/N. And then he had me, Tony. I …” “ You mentioned Y/N?” Enzo took an immediate step back when he heard the anger in Dante’s voice. “ I … I’m sorry. He … He tricked me.” Then he took another step and another one, trying to stay as far away as possible from Dante, until his back bumped against the door and he was able to spot a terrifying red flame burning with rage in the mercenary’s eyes who was towering him menacingly. “What did you say about Y/N?”                           If the weird man in Bobby’s Cellar had scared the shit out Enzo early on, what he had felt back then was nothing in comparison to he was feeling right now. Paralysed with fear, he couldn’t move anymore, couldn’t speak. He could only stare at the raging fire in Dante’s eyes and feel a burning warmth emanating from the young man’s body against him. Were those the flames of Hell? Was he about to be punished for his sin? For betraying his partner?    “What did you say?” He shouted and Enzo trembled and squealed like a pig, arms covering his face to protect himself. Yes, his man Tony was about to flay him alive. He was sure of it. “What are you?” He mumbled.

“Tony.” Enzo thanked all the gods for that divine intervention. Though whom he should have truly thanked was Y/N and her soft reassuring voice that had miraculously pulled Dante from his dark rage.

I like her. Dante smiled.

“Stop please.” Enzo felt Dante calm down and when he finally walked away from him, the small man took a deep breath. “If something happens …” Dante didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to and Enzo was already nodding furiously. “I know.” He blindly grabbed the handle behind his back and quickly opened the door to run away as fast as he could.

Dante watched him running in the cold night with a frown until he couldn’t see him anymore. Then he swiftly strode back to Y/N waiting for him on top of the stairs to pull her in a strong protective  embrace. And when his lips pressed in her silky hair and she realized he couldn’t let go, she started worrying. “What is it?” She had never felt him like that.                  “It’s nothing.” He replied softly even though the voice in his head was screaming things like Don’t you get out of my sight, even for a second. I can’t lose you. Not like my mother. I love you so freaking much. “Stay with me tonight.”

But deep down, Dante wasn’t sure this was the smartest decision.

***

“And so was it?” Patty curiously asked as she stared at Dante with her big blue eyes. “ Was it what?” He replied, pretending not to understand. He loved teasing her. “ The smartest decision?” She clarified with an enthusiasm that clearly showed her interest and her will to know more. “ I thought you loved cliffhangers.”