#PUTTING IN THE CUT BC

[starry-bi-sky]

this just in: danny fenton is just as much of a mask as Brucie Wayne? - another danyal al ghul au

Turns out, being placed in a civilian family who have no knowledge of your background is actually detrimental to the health and development of a child assassin due to lack of proper support! Surrounded by strangers in a foreign city, Danyal Al Ghul does as assassins do best. He hides. Espionage is one of many teachings one learns in the League, and it only takes half a day for Danyal to construct a new persona to hide behind: Daniel Fenton.

By the time dinner rolls around, Danyal al Ghul is safely and securely tucked behind the face of Danny Fenton; brand new adoptive child of the Fenton family who came from overseas. A shy, quiet little boy with a thick accent and curly hair, with brown skin and blue eyes, and an avid interest in the stars. The best fictions are always cobbled together in a little bit of truth, it's some of the only truth he ever lets through. He apologizes in a meek voice for his behavior early, he didn't mean to be rude, and he watches the three of them eat it up with coos.

Lies roll like silk against his lips, he struggles to meet their eyes and offers them his weakest, shyest smile. It's too easy. It's easy to go from there.

Danny Fenton, adoptive son, shy and awkward and unconfident but friendly. Who struggles in his classes and isn't the brightest, but tries his hardest. He makes bad jokes and has a quick tongue and a sarcastic mouth. He wants to be an astronaut. He's got the best aim in school, and is a terrifying dodgeball player. He's one of the least athletic kids in his grade.

It's like playing two truths and a lie, but there's only one truth, and the rest are lies. It's easy to pretend when he knows it's insincere.

Danyal Al Ghul, grandson to the Demon Head. Deadly, trained assassin. Has spilled blood, has had blood spilt from. Environmentalist, animal activist. He loves the stars. He owns a calligraphy set. A sharp tongue, an even sharper blade. He's clever, quick-witted, he would be top of his grade if he tried harder. He purposely doesn't.

He misses his family. He misses his mother, and he misses his brother. Mother visits a few times a year, so few times that he can count it on both hands. He cherishes every visit, as brief as they are. It helps remind him who he is.

Sam and Tucker are Danny's best friends. They've never met Danyal, but Danyal's met them.

It becomes routine to become Danny Fenton. As familiar and as easy as pulling on a shirt in the morning. Danyal wakes up and is always first to the bathroom in the mornings; stares at himself in the mirror until he can finally see Danny staring back at him. At night, he locks his door and sheds the mask.

Dying throws a wrench in his mask; splits a crack straight through the porcelain. He's able to smooth it over with sandpaper and liquid gold, but it's a little hard keeping his ghost form under wraps. It instinctively wants to shift to show his true self. Danyal can't have that, he's spent four years as Danny Fenton, he'll spend another four as him as well. Even if the feeling of the hazmat suit in his ghost form feels restrictive, like a too-small shirt suctioned to his skin that needs to be peeled off.

He'll live. Er-- well, you know what he means. It's frustrating however, trying to keep his Danny Fenton mask up even as Phantom - fighting in the air is something he needs to get used to, and the sudden propping of powers throws him off. But he is nothing if not adaptive, and he hates that he needs to slow his own skills down in order to keep pretenses up in front of Sam and Tucker.

The first time Danyal summons a sword when he's alone, is one of the few times Danyal gets to grin instead of Danny. He's fighting Skulker, and from an invisible hilt he draws a katana from thin air. It startles them both. Skulker takes a step back at the smile that spreads across his face.

They're both silent as Danyal examines his new sword.

"Do you know what people like me do to people like you, poacher?" Danyal finally asks him, the accent he began to hide a few months in slipping through. He drops all pretense, dragging the flat end of the blade slow and appreciatively against his palm. It's a good make, and when he cuts it through the air, it slices through like butter. He looks up at Skulker with a smile; "are you ready to find out?"

When Sam and Tucker ask about why Skulker seems so skittish around Danny now, Danny shrugs at them and says with a playful smile; "I don't know, I guess I kicked his butt too hard after our last fight." and he watches as Sam rolls her eyes exasperatedly, and Tucker snickers with his own joke.

By the time he reunites with Damian before their 15th birthday, Danyal is buried beneath so many layers of Danny Fenton that his brother will need a shovel to dig him out. He's not sure what he'll find.

[angelsdean]

"You're my guys....Those other toys, they don’t…spark joy."

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” pages 12-15

1 - 2 - day 3 - 💙free day❤️ - 4

[bitegore]

Zionists want you to conflate Judaism and Zionism. Zionists want you to believe that Judaism cannot exist without Zionism and that all Jews are Zionists. Zionism would have Jews believe that a Jewish state is the only way that they can be safe from antisemitism and will point to any instance of antisemitism as proof that Zionism is the solution- so Zionism wants gentiles to be antisemitic in their support of Palestine. They want you to conflate all Jews with Zionism and the state of Israel, and they want you to treat all Jews regardless of political affiliation as the face of Israel. Antizionist Jews exist, and incidences of antisemitism ostensibly acting against Zionism will not help dismantle the forces propping Zionism up.

Don't do their work for them.

[heartorbit]

the star you've longed for

[haunted-xander]

I think one of the (several) reason for why Shadowbringers is so good is because the narrative is more about the individual characters than it is the Greater Conflict.

Like, the Greater Conflict is definitely there, obviously, it's what keeps the story going, but the focus is always on the people, much more so than the other expacs. HW and STB also have some level of character focus ofc, but it's very selective and even then the focus is based on them in the specific context of the current conflict.

But in SHB, the story bends around the characters' narratives, rather than the other way around. The story forms to put them in situations that challenges their flaws and limitations, by forcing them to confront it and actually deal with it. Even just at the very beginning, you see the twins being dealt a terrible hand that very neatly clashes against their faults.

Alisaie is confronted with a situation that she can and could never do anything about. She has no means to help the patients (at the time at least). The only way for her to help them is by eradicating the source of the affliction itself: the Light. But the Light isn't just some Big Bad she can kill and be done with. Even when all the lightwardens are down the Light is still there, it's just more manageable. Alisaie learns to not only see the bigger picture, but to care for it for her own reasons. For all that she has participated in Big Operations, it has always been because that's what others were doing, what others cared for to be done. She feels for the people of Doma and Ala Mhigo, but she didn't set out to liberate their homelands because she has any personal investment in it. But other people do, and she cares about what other people- be they strangers or friends- care about.

Caring about other peoples feelings and opinions isn't a flaw by itself of course, but doing things without any sense of personal purpose, is. This is what SHB helps her fix and confront, because it is personal now, she does it because she cares.

Alphinaud is forced into a situation where diplomacy and negotiations does and would never work. He can't talk himself into Eulemore, and he sure as hell can't convince Vauthry or the free citizens to let go of their life of ignorant luxury. The problem here also isn't as straightforward as a corrupt ruler, because even after Vauthry is revealed for the bastard he is, it takes considerable effort and convincing to get them to get off their asses and get to work. It's one thing to change the minds of people who wanted the same outcome just in a different way (like Ishgard- they rejected unity with the dragons, but they still wanted an end to the war), but it's another thing entirely to convince people that another way of life is even worth it.

And this is what SHB teaches Alphinaud, that words and deeds can achieve much, but that there is much more to diplomacy than appealing to their wants and/or sensibilities to convince them of an alternative outcome. His development may not be as immediately noticable as some of the others (largely bc he had a lot of it already from HW), but it is still very much there.

Urianger's development had already been build up and sort-of started already, but we don't really get to see it until it near explodes in his face after we kill Vauthry. Even after he swore off secrecy, he's forced to confront his morals when the Exarch bids his assistance. Urianger has always been looking at the greater picture, to the point he'd almost lose himself in it if it wasn't for the overwhelming guilt he feels. He works with the Exarch, because he knows he's the only one capable of it, and he hates the very fact that he is. When the climax of the plan is about to be executed, he is pained to the point that even he can't mask it anymore. He has betrayed their trust once more and once more it will result in the death of a friend.

But it doesn't, and that's what's needed for him to confront himself. As terrible and unexpected as the circumstances around it was, it did show him that there are other ways. There is no one way to solve a problem, the first choice doesn't need to be the only one. And he would find those other ones of he had just talked to the others.

The pay-off doesn't quite come until EW, where we see him actively make the choice to go against his first instinct of acquiesing to the Loporrits' plans, and instead chooses to consult us, but that scene wouldn't have made sense or even happened had it not been for his development in SHB.

Now, Y'shtola is a bit of an odd one because while she does get her due focus, she doesn't quite get the same amount of development as the others. Rather, it shows how she thrives when not held back by others interests and (often somewhat needless) bounderies. Her intelligence and charisma have the chance to shine, her independence and confidence now rewarded rather than punished. In ARR, she is constantly annoyed by the Maelstroms way of dealing with things, and how no one bothers to actually listen to her. Her advice and reprimands are almost entirely ignored until the problem blows up in their faces and they have no choice but to concede that she was right.

Being independent and confident aren't flaws by themselves, but her sometimes aggressive approaches to telling others off does her few favors. In SHB, she has the Night's Blessed who actually heed her word and respect her, they listen to her and actually take what she says- be it advise or reprimand- to heart.

She does also, however, have to deal with Thancred who, much like the Maelstrom, ignores her reprimands and doesn't listen to her. The difference here is that her bluntness actually serves a purpose. In ARR, her bluntness lacks tact and meaning, simply a result of frustration. The Maelstrom won't listen to someone who doesn't come up with fleshed-out arguments and solutions, but Y'shtola doesn't bother giving them any until she knows they'll listen. But with Thancred, she does give him the solution. It's just that the solution is him. His words, to be precise, and his acceptance. And he needs to be reminded of that, and she does. It doesn't automatically solve anything, but that's simply how it is with complicated situations like that.

Speaking of Thancred, his narrative is probably the most important of all for SHB. He's always been shown as a capable, but ultimately self-destructive man who genuinely does not know how to deal with himself in a healthy manner. Theoretically speaking he knows, he recognizes that he is self-destructive, but he still has no idea how to actually fix it. It's been shown as early as ARR when it results in him getting possessed, but it's not really made a point of until it almost ruins his relationship with Ryne. Up until now he could just ignore his problems, but with Ryne he can't because now The Problem(s) aren't just his anymore. Anything that would hurt him now would also hurt her, meaning that if he wants to continue doing the one thing he actually cares about (protecting his loved ones) then he needs to get his shit together.

But Thancred doesn't know how to. And for all that his friends try and try to help him, he doesn't know how to. He's paralyzed. Thancred is so deep into his self-destructive habits that it takes the threat of both his and the person(s) he loves the most in the worlds deaths to get him into action. He doesn't know if it's Minfilia or Ryne who will return, and I'm not sure he expected to survive Ran'jit. He only has this chance, and if he wants to die without (as many) regrets he has to do something now.

And he does. He does and what it is he does is tell Ryne that whatever happens, it has to be her own choice. That he will accept any outcome, that he will still care about her no matter what, that as long as she lives or dies as she wants to, that he still loves her. He still loves her. And it works, because that's what he's needed to do all this time, to be able to just tell her that she matters. That he cares.

He tells her to live her own life, and he learns to live his own too.

[bunniebi]

outfits for the infamous ROs ^-^ (except O, Seb, E and LA... </3 but maybe in the future)

[myokk]

💘

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 11)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“Adam, for your transgression, you will be dealt with accordingly. For now, you are dismissed.” 

Adam’s voice and demeanor had become so grating to you that you actively blocked out the bitching that followed. You weren’t sure if, when he’d finally stopped having a foul-mouthed tantrum, a lot of time had passed or not. 

It didn’t matter when you were blessed with near silence at last. A slip of harsh gold out of the corner of your eye led you to believe that Adam’s lackey had followed him out. 

“Emily, please follow.”

“But Sera…” 

“No harm will come to her here. She just needs time.”

There was no need to look up, as the fluttering of Emily’s wings were now telltale in spite of how little you’d known her. 

“Go on.” 

You hadn’t seen her go, but it was like all the energy in the air had been sucked out as she left you behind. In her stead was a still, oppressive atmosphere where anxiety lingered to crawl up your spine the longer you sat in it. 

Sera was staring down at you. 

“Why…” Your voice was hoarse, even if you hadn’t been screaming or sobbing as you wanted to. 

Swallowing back the thickness that had built in your throat physically hurt. An errant thought that it shouldn’t (nothing should hurt anymore) passed you by. 

“Why am I here?” You looked up, staring back at Sera. 

The Angel considered you for a long moment. 

“Your place here has been ordained by the Father, a privilege bestowed upon you for your act of service.” 

The words from her lovely mouth didn’t make sense for so long that you almost asked the Seraphim to repeat herself. Your eyes narrowed as your gaze turned roundabout, as if whatever could make sense of this was somewhere in your surroundings. 

“I… Wait, I’d have thought that…” Head shaking, you implored Sera again with your eyes. “What service?”

“You delivered upon the world Christ’s opposing force through your union with —” Here, you saw Sera’s long throat flex with the effort of swallowing.

“Lucifer.” You finished, watching and confirming as Sera’s frame twitched that just the mention of the Devil made this powerful force uncomfortable. 

It was odd, but didn’t take away the pain that just mentioning his name brought. You felt as if a great gaping hole had been punched through your chest, taking with it all your vital organs and the power of your lungs.

Impressions of his anguished face and the sound of Charlotte crying were permanently etched in your mind. You bit down on your tongue, lest you scream your grief. 

It felt like they had died and not you. 

“I’ll never see them again.” Your head fell into your hands as you were overcome. “I barely got to hold my own baby.”

Sera sighed deeply, inching toward the War Table adjacent to you both. 

“I understand that leaving people behind can be painful.” Her great arms reached over the table, motioning until light rose from the board and took on fantastical shapes. “But time heals all.” 

Instead of comfort, her wisdom made you sniffle. You rubbed your eyes like a child to prevent the steady rise of tears threatening to escape. 

Through the blur, you saw Sera smile wanly. “You may feel grateful with time. Staying any longer could have led you further astray.” 

That made you pause between shuddering sobs. 

Fuck, you’d been sobbing on the floor of heaven.

Fucking Heaven. 

“W-what?” You asked finally.

Sera’s idle hands continued to create new sources of light and shape. You rose from the floor of cumulus and nimbus on jelly legs and walked toward her, for lack of anything else to do. 

A perfect sphere rose above the table, with little pinpricks of light surrounding it. It could’ve been anything but you had the sense to imagine it was a depiction of Earth. 

“Had you stayed mortal and lived another 10, 20, perhaps 30 years, you could have become susceptible to the enemy’s mindset.” Sera said. “It’s not unthinkable when human beings are often led by their hearts, even if it goes against their best interest.”

Your heart was jabbed with indignation at that.

“Acts of Service can become Acts of Sacrifice if one veers off the path.” She gently swirled around the Earth with one hand, and it fell into a tilt naturally before rotating among the stars. 

Sera eyed you from her peripheral as you stood beside her to watch. “You might’ve grown attached and… denied yourself.” 

“Hold on, please — just…” You closed your eyes after several moments.  “I’m here, in Heaven, because Lucifer asked that I be let up here when I died?” 

“That is correct.” Sera guided the stars in a variety of paths. 

“And you agreed because having his baby was actually a good thing?” You asked. “But how? Why would God want that to happen if the Devil is his enemy?”

“Life is all about balance.” The celestial took on the role of teacher naturally. “Light needs darkness to exist. This is how it has been and will always be, since He created the Heavens and the Earth.”

“Lucifer has gone on too long without an heir - Hell cannot be unmanned should anything happen to its King. To ensure that this would never come to pass, He agreed to certain terms, which have been abided by — despite Lucifer’s constant revisions.”

At that, the Seraphim looked borderline petulant. Her disapproval was clear in the way the many eyes that decorated her wingspan, hair and crown-like halo shrunk into slivered crescents.

“It’s been centuries since he was ordered to conceive a child. Out of Love, the Father bestowed an exorbitant amount of time on him to make it happen. Once you were found and the contract was signed, your place in Heaven was guaranteed as stipulated.” She halted her recital to spare a glance your way.

“His ways can be opaque, but they are always meant to take us in the right direction.” Sera offered after a lull, to dispel the dumbfounded look on your face. You could see the way her lips pursed, as if daring to question that explanation was an affront to her existence. As if what she’d just told you didn’t change your perception so thoroughly that your head was spinning.

Self-preservation no longer being a factor, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, ‘God works in mysterious ways’.” You mocked. “People say that when they don’t know what to say. But you actually work under God, don’t you??” 

“That is a crude way to describe my role here.” Sera responded with reproach. 

“But essentially correct.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You take orders from Him, clearly.”

The Seraphim’s manicured nails pierced through the infinitely shifting stars, fingers curling into a claw as the line of her mouth grew severe. Her brow downturned as she faced you, irritated. 

“Just like Lucifer took orders from Him, I bet.” The pieces were slotting into place. “Until he… until he… did exactly what he was supposed to.” 

You laughed with disbelief at the revelation, hands coming up to grab at your thankfully unchanged hair. The starlight before you began to dim, falling back into the passive marble of the war table. Sera pivoted rather abruptly, a touch of disquiet in her fractured facade as she took in your dysfunction. 

Her gaze became shifty, and you caught it, but it was the least of your concerns. You were in the middle of a manic breakdown for the second time in less than an hour. 

Lucifer didn’t like to talk about Heaven — that was evident from his stuttering when he first revealed himself to you. So, whether it was out of the goodness of your heart or built-in doormat passivity, you hadn’t discussed the place. Truthfully, you’d thought very little of it as a place and more as a concept, even when the Devil came knocking on your door in flesh and blood. 

It was an uphill battle to calm yourself. You closed your mouth to stop the laughing and coughed at the tickle to your throat. You’d never been good at breathing through your nose. Arms slid down to clutch at your stomach and center yourself, frame slowly easing out of the hyperventilation.  

“So… God damned his own son to Hell and made him into Heaven’s Big Bad for the sake of balance… And he wanted that Big Bad to have a child like He Himself did, also for the sake of balance…” 

‘And Lucifer agreed as long as you got to go to eternal paradise…’

Your summation was stated lifelessly, a knife’s edge away from sarcastic. The big secret to Life was out: it was all a fun little show that God put on for himself to stave off boredom. Even those he held closest weren’t safe from it. 

“An-nd you’ve never ever questioned this?” You asked faintly, a crooked smile of disbelief on your face. “Ever?”

A breeze blew back the hair that had fallen into your face.

Sera was suddenly so much closer in proximity, and you flinched back at the power exuding from her like an aura. 

“We do not question the Father.” The Seraphim’s glower betrayed her true feelings toward you. Yet, instead of continuing to back away from the hostility, you forced yourself to stand in place as best you could. 

It gave you whiplash when Sera’s pinched face relaxed. She straightened up with another deep, deep sigh. The danger that felt like static electricity dissipated from your skin, but you held onto the edge of the war table regardless. 

The light show had gone off as quickly as it was turned on. You felt its loss of warmth as sharply as you’d felt Emily’s. 

“Lucifer was unable to fully grasp the Great Purpose.” Sera was imposing as she straightened to her fully height and towered above you once again. “He questioned everything, and for it he Fell.” 

“And I would suggest,” The Seraphim glared at you as if you were an insect she wanted to crush. “that you do not emulate his sin. For the sake of your immortal soul.” 

***

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[vastwinterskies]

crew is asleep, post modern Goodlittle on main

[liamlawsonlesbian]

what book I would give each current formula one driver to introduce them to the joy of reading

an intellectual exercise no one* asked for

Max Verstappen: Guns, Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond - if you are nd and have read this book, you may understand me. otherwise just trust me. the impetus for this post

Checo Perez: The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White - this is an excellent read-aloud book for Sergio Jr.'s age, and there is nothing as wonderful as reading a compelling book to a kid you love, imho

Charles Leclerc: The Golden Compass by Phillip Pullman - he is on the record as a Potter enjoyer. also, I think he would enjoy having a little animal friend

Carlos Sainz: Priestdaddy by Patricia Lockwood - okay yes this is partially a joke about the title, but this is a hilarious and wonderful memoir, about weird families and Catholicism, and I think Carlos would enjoy it.

Lando Norris: Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett - in my mind Lando is a little bit like @bright-and-burning but less cool, so this fits. also, the combination of high number of jokes/page + action/mystery seems like a good fit

Oscar Piastri: Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie - this book has the kind of mystery that really draws you in, plus I think Oscar would dig the questions about AI it digs into. I choose to believe with zero evidence that he would be interested in the funky gender stuff

Fernando Alonso: Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell - look me in the eye and tell me this book wasn't written for Fernando Alonso

Lance Stroll: Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card - yeah

Lewis Hamilton: Die Trying by Lee Child - Lewis deserves to read mildly trashy thrillers <3 plus there's a Tom Cruise movie

George Russell: Changing My Mind by Zadie Smith - as a proud Brit, George should be reading one of the premiere English authors of the 21st century. her first book of essays is a fun and readable place to start

Yuki Tsunoda: Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel - I don't have a Yuki-lore explanation, I just want to give him one of my favorite books

Daniel Ricciardo: The Gunslinger by Steven King - The Dark Tower series is Lord of the Rings-esque in scope but Western-inflected in aesthetic and written by The Horror Guy, I think DR would enjoy

Alex Albon: The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer by Siddhartha Mukherjee - I say this with so much love in my heart, but Alex wants to be seen as smart. this book is brilliantly written pop science

Logan Sargeant: Bloomability by Sharon Creech - yes this is a book for tween girls, but it's about boarding school in Switzerland, and Sharon Creech is a genius. if I could convince him to read it, I think he would love it

Valtteri Bottas: The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien - what are hobbits if not humanoid moomins?

Zhou Guanyu: Piranesi by Susannah Clarke - a fun, exciting, stylishly written book for a stylish guy

Kevin Magnussen: Watership Down by Richard Adams - rabbit warfare <3

Nico Hulkenberg: A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles - Hulk SEEMS like a Dad Who Reads Historical Fiction, even if he isn't yet

Pierre Gasly: Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo - I almost said A Game of Thrones but I don't think that would be good for him. so, Six of Crows. he likes heists!

Esteban Ocon: City of Brass by S.A. Chakraborty - a superhero origin story of sorts for Mr. Spiderman

Bonus: Liam Lawson: Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir - lesbian from New Zealand. let me have this

*ro asked for it, take it up with them @oscarpiastriwdc

[casualavocados]

Chiang Tien as AI DI & Chen Bowen as CHEN YI KISEKI: DEAR TO ME, Ep. 12 (x)

[wife-beam]

sqq wasn’t bad at acting like sj, the peak lords have that meeting AFTER the demon invasion and all the things they notice, besides sqq being pleasant to yqy lol, is stuff sqq did after OOC was unlocked. like you can’t argue that they’re seeing through him when sqq is purposefully easing up on mimicking sj. they are MONTHS behind

[woahjo]

spending time in the high lords office is an almost daily occurence now. you never ask to stay, but he always invites you to. you feel obligated to accept, but you're finding that it's little more than an excuse. katsuki is surprisingly pleasant to be around.

as you spend time with him, you come to realize that it's not what he says that's harsh, but his tone. every day it seems more and more likely to you that he's not quite the man people have made him out to be. in fact, he's awkward and somewhat sensitive with an intellectual side and an odd manner of side-stepping points he doesn't want to make. of course, he has a temper, but he's not unreasonable. never unreasonable.

you get the impression that he drags his time with you on longer than it needs to be and, to your surprise, you're grateful for it. there's a quiet sort of tranquility that comes with sitting in his office. it's become a rather peaceful place for you.

soon, you're having conversations instead of just reading books, talking idly about the grounds or the books you'd read or your life before coming to work here. katsuki listens most of the time, usually with a cheek resting on his palm in a way that is somehow unbefitting of a man of his station. sometimes though, he'll tell you about his troubles. bills and servants and things so far beyond your reach that they almost seem to be a far off fantasy.

katsuki looks at you often too. it's not unintentional and you've noticed that when you read (or pretend to), he'll steal glances through his lashes as he goes about his paperwork. for a time, he'd dart his eyes away when you noticed but, in recent weeks, he's been unflinching when you do. his gaze bores into you unabashedly, almost as if he's trying to swallow you with his eyes.

he's doing it today, meeting your eyes and playing this game of chicken. there's something hungry behind it, something you recognize as belonging to katsuki alone and it's so distracting that you've been spending your time staring at the cover of the book you hold rather than opening it. it's the sort of look you give someone when they've gotten under your skin, for better or worse. you shudder and cross one leg over the other, feeling a rush of heat and desire flood your lower belly.

"how are you today, my lord?" you ask, breaking the long silence and raising your eyes to look at him. you're more comfortable now. he's made you that way.

katsuki's eyebrows twitch and he leans back in his chair.

"and what would you know of the troubles of lords?" he teases.

"all that you've told me," you respond, a smile creeping onto your lips. "or nothing. whichever you prefer."

katsuki let's out a short huff of laughter, his shoulders rising briefly.

"what do you want to know?"

"you seem particularly distracted from your work, my lord."

"i don't get distracted," he responds evenly, lightly fingering the page in front of him.

"and i don't spend my time in here with you. since we're both done lying, you might as well just answer me."

"it's a great crime to accuse me of lying," he states.

you hum and nod your head, knowing better than to believe his teasing threats. they used to scare you. those comments would have been enough to make you tremble only a season ago. he'd gotten upset with you for it once before, placing his fingers to his temple and groaning as if the idea of being perceived so harshly by you frustrated him. though, looking back, he seemed less upset with you than he did with himself.

"marriage," he says, his tone a little more crass and unsettled.

"marriage?"

the idea comes as a shock to you, though you know it shouldn't. of course katsuki would get married. he's already well past marrying age and many of the other lords born in years near to his have married and had children. still, you can't hide the look of surprise on your face which katsuki answers with a distinctly apologetic look. what does he owe you to be looking at you that way?

"a lady?"

"yes," he breathes and leans back in his chair. "a noble. beautiful, wealthy, and someone i've never once met before."

you nod your head solemnly as katsuki stares at the papers in front of him with a scowl on his face.

"and you don't want to marry her?"

"why would i want that?" he responds, raising his voice a bit. "my mother arranged it for the purpose of strengthening the house position. bullshit."

you raise your eyebrows at the swear word, though you've learned that katsuki's vocabulary can be harsher than his tone.

"so you never plan to marry then?"

katsuki raises his eyes to look at you upon hearing this. his brows are pulled together in the center and he looks distinctly angry. well, angry to someone who doesn't know him better. katsuki looks sad.

"not her," he says evenly and you flinch at the intensity of his gaze. he looks away from you at this, dismissing the tension with a lighter tone. "someone else, maybe."

"a different noble...?"

you're not sure why you ask, but you do and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but katsuki doesn't give you an answer. he simply groans and rubs at his temples with his pointer finger and thumb.

"talk to me about something else," he demands. "your family."

"i've already told you everything there is to know about them," you say a bit urgently, startled by the fierceness in his tone.

"the book in your hand, then."

the conversation feels like it begins to spiral, moving faster and faster.

"i haven't opened it yet."

"your dress."

"this old thing? it's the standard uniform."

"anything about you!"

"there's nothing to know about me!"

"well, i want to know everything about you, damn it! how you wake up in the morning or how you'd like your tea. what you think about during the day. all of it!" he says insistently, his chest rising with an indignation characteristic of having said something you don't intend.

you don't know what to say and katsuki's cheeks turn pink through his scowl before he let's out a frustrated huff of air.

"i'm sorry."

you shake your head. he doesn't need to be. there's a brazen question on the tip of your tongue. it burns with how cautiously it creeps up your throat, too big to swallow.

"who is it that you want to marry?" you ask.

katsuki looks up and you and then away with a huff. he scowls to himself, standing from the chair and turning to face the window behind him. you can see his side profile from here, the way his eyebrows force a crease between them and the downturn of his lips. it's a regretful expression. you should have held your tongue. you dread the answer.

"i'll see you tomorrow," he says, softer this time.

"are you dismissing me for the day?"

"do whatever you'd like with your day," he states. "i can't keep you."

what an odd choice of words. you don't dislike it. not because it's true, which you find more an more unfortunate with each passing moment, but because it insinuates that he might like to. you'd be kept, you think. if you could. if it were him. since when has be become so special to you?

you make your way towards the door, setting the book down on his desk and moving to the door opposite from him. you turn as you reach it, bowing deeply and letting his honorific roll off of your tongue. my lord. then, he turns to face you as you rise, stepping back up to his desk and sitting down.

"tomorrow," he says, facing his paperwork. "come back tomorrow."

"as you wish, my lord."

[satans-knitwear]

It only looks so owie bc nobody has kissed it better yet 🥺😢

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[codacheetah]