#and i was like sure! and LO AND BEHOLD. she gives me just the book i wanted! fantastic!

[taniushka12]

6 for the reading ask game?

6) Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

i did actually!! The 7½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle, its this weird murder mystery kinda deal but with time loops & body hopping in the middle?? i've been so curious on the premise since the first time i read the back cover and its Definitely a 2023 goal to buy & read it :')

also i wanted to read some of stanisław lem's work (particularly Solaris, Tales of Pirx The Pilot, and The Cyberiad), i've heard a lot of good things abt him and i really liked the movie solaris, but it's been a busy year u_u

[end-of-year book ask!] (thank you!! ♥)

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Trick or treat!! 🍬

i'm late by several days, but you get a treat(?) it depends on if you think my writing is a treat 😂 that was a bold thing for me to claim--

-

“Oh no,” Pansy Parkinson bemoaned with a disdain she only saved for two things in this world. One: a new Witch Weekly fashion trend that simply wouldn’t do. And two: Harry Potter.

Considering there was no trashy magazine spread out on her lap, Tom could only presume Potter was within eye line. So, subtle as a herd of hippogriffs, Tom turned to see if he could also spot Potter in the courtyard. And after merely a moment of careful searching, lo and behold, there he was.

Standing beneath the shade of a sprawling oak tree, Potter held his Firebolt casually across his shoulders. Of course, he was surrounded by his typical Gryffindor entourage—and given their propensity for boisterously annoying laughter and chatter—Tom was surprised to see they were all sitting relaxed and quiet. No wonder he hadn’t heard them long before now.  

Potter’s head was tilted back as though he were admiring the warm afternoon sun through the tree’s dense leaves. And with the way the shadows and light were casting flickering patterns on the smooth plains of his face, Tom was ready to believe that. What an idyllic little picture the boy wonder was presenting. Disgusting.

“Seriously,” Pansy continued, “we can’t have a moment to ourselves? Where do they get off sitting that close to us? It’s like they’re trying to give me a migraine—everyone knows the colour red makes me nauseous from the hours of ten to eight!”

Tom thought that was a bit dramatic. However, he could agree with the overall sentiment: must Potter and his little groupies be everywhere?

Draco coughed, poorly concealing a laugh, and Theo sighed softly, shaking his head behind the book he was reading. “Here’s a radical thought: Don’t look at them,” Theo sarcastically suggested and pointedly turned to the next page.

“Come now, Theo,” Draco smiled. Something wicked and mischievous built in his tone, “Can you blame her? That is the Harry Potter. That is the Boy-Who-Lived, Ender of Grindelwald, Hero of the Wizarding World, known Dark Lord Defeater—“

Theo slammed his book shut and hissed, “Can you just get on to bloody punchline already?”

“—And close personal associate of Pansy’s long-time infatuation: Hermione Granger.”

Pansy spluttered, seemingly appalled but turning slowly the colour she proclaimed to hate so very much. “I DO NOT—“

“Oh please,” Draco rolled his eyes, “at least you aren’t as bad as Tom.”

Tom, who had been listening with a close ear and had half an eye on his fellow Slytherins, was still mostly distracted by the annoying way Potter seemed to be enjoying this perfectly fine afternoon. And how the light reflected off Potter’s eyes, making them glow like the polar night sky Professor Sinistra had shown them several classes ago. And how, even half put together in his quidditch uniform, Potter looked far too comfortable in his skin—really, no one should be that at ease wearing those tight-fitted trousers. Tom hates him.

Draco leant forward, ready to wave a hand over Tom’s face. “I mean, look at him. He’s not even listening to us,” but as Draco stretched his hand near enough, Tom grabbed his wrist. 

“And what,” Tom asked voice low and words slow, his eyes turned to meet Draco’s head-on, “do you mean by that, Malfoy?”

Draco flinched back, but because he was literally caught in Tom’s grasp, there wasn’t much space regained. “Well - I mean - surely you’ve - I thought -“ Draco stuttered.

Theo graciously decided to step in, “What this idiot is trying to say is: we know you like him.”

Like him? 

“Like who?” Tom asked, perplexed. Like Draco? Theo had said it well enough; the boy is an idiot. His older brother Lucius was helpful to a point, and his father Abraxas showed some promise in Tom’s carefully laid plans. Still, overall, the only reason Tom bothered to associate with Draco was his well-known and depressingly well-respected name. The Malfoys carried far too much weight in the upper echelons of wizarding society. So it would be foolish not to capitalise on the Malfoys’ most glaring weakness: their beloved youngest child.

Pansy searched Tom’s face, bewildered, and said, “You’re kidding?”

“Oh. Wow, no, he’s quite serious.” Theo’s brows crept high up his forehead, and he whistled, “I never thought I’d see the day our very own Tom Riddle was daft about someone. And blind to it, too? This must be one of the rarest magical phenomena ever witnessed.” 

Tom frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Draco cleared his throat and carefully twisted his wrist from left to right until he could easily slip free in Tom’s distracted state. “As I was saying, you’re worse than Pansy. She at least bullies Granger to the point of loud confrontations,” —Pansy murmured a disgruntled ‘quiet, you’— “but you don’t even talk to Potter. You just make gaga eyes at him from a distance.”

Tom blinked once. Gaga eyes? Him? At Potter? “I do no such thing. That’s ridiculous.”

Pansy scoffed, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Pot meet kettle,” Theo sighed. “Tom, at first we thought it was part of your 15-year plan, or whatever you keep calling it, to be the youngest Minister in history. After all, Potter is a good political match, and he’s Magical Britain’s sweet summer child. If you were to capture his affection and work your way through the ministry, even your darker leanings would get a pass because ‘how could our darling saviour romantically involve himself with a dark, evil, and immoral wizard?’”

Pansy and Draco both nod their heads sagely. 

Theo continues, “But when you never tried to speak with Potter, ask him out to Hogsmeade weekends, or even just offer to study with him, we realised you actually may simply like him. No strings attached.”

Tom was blindsided, and he was never blindsided. How did these three fools jump to this conclusion? Sure, Potter wasn’t unattractive, and, fine, Tom could admit that Potter’s family background coupled with his new found status was appealing and a good match for his political schemes, and, with a wand to his head, maybe he could acquiesce that Potter did have a magical aptitude that possibly rivalled Tom’s own, and, again, those damn trousers…

Oh Merlin. Was he crushing on Harry Potter?

Tom’s face scrunched up in disgust. 

“Ah - I think he’s just sorted it out,” Theo nodded. He stood up and dusted off his robes. “Well, my work here is done. See you all in Charms.”

Pansy and Draco both watched, horrified, as Theo ambled away. He walked towards the group of lounging Gryffindors and even offered them a small smile and a wave, which was more than he had ever offered to anyone in his own house. 

Tom swore he could feel his eye twitch when Potter caught sight of Theo and, with that ridiculous natural charm of his, waved back and grinned like they‘d always been good friends.

-

(to be continued...?)

[angelatmidnight1]

Brotherly Love

Ramazith’s Tower is under new leadership thanks to Tav and Dame Aylin’s efforts. Rolan moved Cal and Lia in immediately. He wants them to feel at home in their new home. But, by the Gods, he has more rules than the Counting House has vaults. Don’t touch this, put that back, why’re you touching it in the first place? Cal and Lia don’t want their dear brother to become the stereotype of a grumpy old wizard. So, they take it upon themselves to get him to lighten up. 

Arabellan Dry is Rolan’s favorite wine. It got him through the hard nights in the Shadowlands, when he wasn’t sure if he’d see Cal and Lia alive again.

 Now, after being reunited with his siblings and having full control of Ramazith’s Tower, he swore it tasted even better. 

Wine and books are a complimentary pair. Rolan poured himself a glass and went to recline in his favorite chair. He was in the process of decoding an ancient tome that Lorrokan refused to share with him. He came to realize that the bastard kept it from him because he knew he’d figure it out, and do it a damn sight better. He took a long sip from the glass and set it down, sliding into the plush chair. After a deep sigh, he put the glass on a nearby end table, then reached for where he left the tome. 

Only it wasn’t there. 

Rolan’s brow furrowed in confusion. He got up and looked under the table, thinking it may have fallen, but it wasn’t there either. It wasn’t like him to misplace things, and he hadn’t had enough wine to make him forgetful. Suddenly, there was the sound of shuffling feet, followed by two mischievous giggles. 

Rolan pinched his eyes closed. He exhaled slowly through his nose. He was ecstatic to be reunited with his siblings, and even that was an understatement. He would’ve walked through all nine of the hells if it meant saving them. But, he was still getting used to their regular company and, by default, their mischief. 

The wizard rose to his feet and turned towards the sound. Lo and behold, Cal and Lia stood at the doorway, grinning. Rolan glowered; he did not have the time or desire to play these games. 

“Give me my tome back at once,” Rolan demanded, which only made their smiles widen. “I’m serious. I have no patience for this!”

Cal looked around, as if looking for a fourth person, only to make a big show of realization. “Oh, you’re talking to us?” He chuckled, “I’m surprised you remembered us at all given you’ve spent more time with your books than us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rolan scoffed. “Once I finish my studies, I make sure to spend ample time with both of you. Right now, you are preventing me from doing so since you stole my tome. So I ask again: Give. me. my. book.”

“Well I don’t have it,” Cal emphasized his point by raising his hands in surrender. His tail flicked behind him in amusement as he glanced at his sister. “Lia?”

“What, you mean this old thing?” Lia produced the book from behind her back. Rolan let out an exasperated growl. “Didn’t realize it was so important. There’s only a million like it in this tower.”

“That ‘old thing’ may be the difference between me keeping this tower or us being forced out onto the streets,” Rolan barked. He stomped over to them. Neither Cal nor Lia moved to run. Rolan went to swipe the book out of Lia’s hands, but she tossed it to Cal at the last minute. “Zurgan, hand it over at once!”

Cal held the book over his head. “Or what?” He laughed, holding it just out of his reach. “Gonna lash out and turn us into toads?”

“That’ll be the least I do, if you’re lucky.” Rolan almost had it until Cal tossed it back to Lia, prolonging the game of keepaway. Rolan’s already red face grew a shade darker. Lia could tell he was ready to explode. Instead of throwing the book again, she held it out to him. 

“Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket. Here’s your precious book.” 

Rolan snatched it out of her hands. Usually, Lia snapped at him for being so brusque, but that wasn't the purpose of her and Cal’s visit. “We’ve just missed you, Rolan,” she huffed, “We know how important your studies are, but we hardly see you!”

Rolan checked the cover and pages for any damages. “As I’ve said,” he grumbled, “I will join you once I’ve finished here. If you stop bothering me, I will finish sooner rather than later.”

“Fine, we’ll go. Just one more thing first?” Lia stepped in front of him, arms extended out to the side. “Can you give your little sister a hug?”

Rolan took a step back. His eyes narrowed with a mix of confusion and suspicion. “A hug?”

“Yes, a hug.” Lia smiled sweetly. “Surely that isn’t too much to ask for before you go back to reading these dull books.”

Rolan hesitated for a split second. Then, he turned away with a haughty huff. “You can’t be serious.”

Lia’s smile faded. She lowered her arms, deflated. “I don’t always want to fight, you know. Just…a real hug, for once?”

After a long beat, Rolan let out a reluctant sigh. He rolled his eyes and moved closer. “Fine, if it’ll get you to leave me in peace.”

As soon as he was within reach, Lia stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Rolan resigned, but barely had time to wrap his arms around her when he felt a sudden grip on his shoulders—Cal had snuck up from behind.

Wha—Cal!?” Rolan yelped, trying to pull out of his grip, only to be pulled flushed against his chest. Cal held onto him firmly as he struggled. And, before Rolan could make another indignant demand, he felt Lia’s fingers worming up his sides. 

Oh hells, he thought. Not tickling. Not something as ridiculous and childish as—

The fluttering ticklish sensations yanked him out of his thoughts. He squirmed more vigorously in his brother’s hold, gritting his teeth to keep the laughter at bay. 

“Gotcha~” Lia sang, her fingers darting from his sides to his tummy. His robes did little to block out the ticklish sensations and, when she moved her hands underneath to knead her thumbs into the spot, his shirt offered even less protection. 

Rolan growled, spewing Infernal profanities as he tried to free his arms. “Let go of me, Cal-” he demanded. The slight tremor in his voice betrayed his resolve, and he curled in on himself as Lia’s claws poked up his belly. “I mean it! Cease this childish nonsense at once!”

“And leave you to brood?” Cal snickered and held his arms over his head in a secure grip. He gave Lia a mischievous smile. “Get him good, Lia.”

“With pleasure.” Lia’s grin widened as she tickled up his stomach, squeezed his sides, and ended with dragging her claws along his ribs. Rolan flinched and bit down hard. He clenched his jaw and shook his head, determined not to give in. He tried to twist away, but Cal’s grip held him firmly in place. 

“Enough!” Rolan barked, his voice strained as he struggled to keep a straight face. “This is ridiculous.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lia teased, fingers skittering across his ribs in light, maddening pokes. “Seems like it’s working to me.”

Rolan sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the ticklish jolts shooting through him, but the tremble in his voice betrayed him. “I—I mean it, Lia, enough of this—” His words faltered as she hit a particularly sensitive spot, and his mouth pressed into a thin line, fighting back a smile.

“Oh, you’re so close,” Cal laughed, tightening his hold on Rolan’s arms. “Come on, don’t tell us this doesn’t tickle.”

“It doesn’t!” Rolan’s shoulders shook as he fought against the maddening urge to laugh. “I-I’m n-not ticklish-”

Lia started swirling the tips of her claws in random patterns along his ribs. Rolan gasped and flinched again. He doubled over as much as he could in a last ditch effort to pull away. 

But Lia kept scribbling.

She occasionally added fuel to the fire by squeezing his hip or the side of his stomach. Rolan’s gasps and growls turned into short, reluctant chuckles. Lia cocked her head to the side, kneading her fingertips into his lowermost ribs. 

“It doesn’t tickle? Not even a little?” Lia cooed, moving her fingers higher toward his underarms, watching as his resolve started to crack. “That’s not how we remember it. You’ve always been more ticklish than me and Cal combined.”

Rolan didn’t answer. He tried to reel in the escaping chuckles, but it was becoming more and more difficult as she inched closer to his underarms. “N-Noho-” He tittered and squirmed more fervently to pull his arms free. “I am not﹘not﹘”

But as her fingers slipped under his arms, Rolan felt a bolt of ticklish energy he couldn’t contain. He sucked in a breath, pressing his lips together harder, but a small, breathy laugh escaped despite himself.

“There it is!” Cal grinned, watching Rolan struggle as his body betrayed him further with each poke and prod.

Rolan twisted, fighting for composure, but the laughter kept bubbling up. “S-stop—this—” he choked out, though his laughter was gaining momentum, his body shaking with barely contained mirth.

“Stop what? This?” Lia spidered into his hollows, earning a loud, growling laugh. “I thought you said you weren’t ticklish. What’s so funny?”

“Dahahamn youhuhu!” Rolan cursed and threw his head back as he laughed harder. Lia kept up the gentle, spidering assault along his underarms. When she wasn’t drilling into the hollows, she used her claws to trace gentle circles along the sensitive nerves. Rolan tugged against Cal’s grip with as much strength as he could muster, but he wasn’t going anywhere, and that ticklish panic settled deeper into his bones. “Lehehet gohoho of me, youhuhu brahahats!”

“Ooo, hear that, Lia?” Cal chuckled and, despite his struggling, he kept his brother’s arms locked in place. “We’re brats. Not sure if that’s a step up or down from troglodytes.”

“Oh, definitely a step up,” Lia answered, working all ten of her claws back into his underarms. Rolan lurched forward and wheezed, laughing into her shoulder. She giggled. “He’s called us worse.”

“Youhuhu’ll pahahy for thihihis!” Rolan threatened in between bursts of frantic laughter. “Nahaha! C-Cehehease this madness at onohonce!” 

“Madness? This is fun!” Lia argued. She moved her claws even faster along his armpits. Rolan’s laughter took on more of a desperate note as he bucked in Cal’s hold. 

“NOHOHO!” Rolan protested, drumming his legs against the floor. “It is mahahahadness! N-Nohoht thehehere-”

“Here?” Lia emphasized her point by kneading her thumbs into the hollows, moving them in small circles. Rolan yelped and twisted like a fish out of water. He barely noticed how Cal shifted his hold on him so that he could keep him pinned, but also join in on the tickling fun. 

“Or here?” Cal chimed in, swiping his claws along the length of his ribs. Rolan’s laughter jumped to a new pitch as he made a poor attempt to slump over. 

“FIHIHIHIENDS!” He howled and shook his head side to side, shaking with laughter. Cal and Lia giggled. They weren’t giggling at their brother, but rather with him. Rolan was usually so stuffy and proper. They couldn’t remember the last time they heard him genuinely laughing. His laughter was composed of gruff chuckles and sharper, breathier cackles if either of them got an especially sensitive spot. They kept up the tickling attack for what felt like an eternity, until Rolan’s kicking feet caught Cal’s attention. 

“Do you remember that one spot that had him squealing like a goblin, Lia?” Cal asked while kneading the spaces between his brother’s ribs. Despite being in hysterics, Rolan’s eyes snapped open. He saw the metaphorical light bulb go off in her head, and a devious grin was quick to follow. 

“Well, now that you mention it…”Lia moved so that she was now sitting in front of Rolan’s feet. “Maybe it does ring a bell.”

“Nohoho! D-Don’t you dare!” Rolan protested, drawing his legs in towards himself. Lia grabbed onto his legs in a determined grip and wrestled off his shoes. “Lia, plehehease!”

“Please? Never thought I’d get one of those out of you,” Lia grinned and fluttered her fingertips over his sole. “Now come on, I just wanna see if this spot still works!”

The effect was instantaneous—Rolan’s gruff laughter turned into loud, boisterous cackles. “NAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THE FEHEHEET!” His laughter hit a fever pitch, voice cracking as he fell into high-pitched, uncontrollable squeals. His toes curled in a vain attempt to protect himself, but Lia’s nimble fingers danced over every inch, finding every ticklish nerve.

Cal laughed, switching from his ribs to repeatedly squeeze his sides. “There it is! The goblin squeal!” he teased, laughing along with his brother’s cackles.

Lia's fingers danced over his soles, scratching lightly at his heels, then up to the balls of his feet, driving him wild. “Kitchy-kitchy-koo, Rolan!” she teased, finding all the spots that made him shriek the loudest. Rolan jolted forward, nearly freeing himself from Cal’s grasp. 

“I yiehehehield! M-Mercy! Mercy!” he cried out, his voice hoarse and eyes squeezed shut as tears of laughter streamed down his cheeks. Finally, his devious siblings stopped their attack, leaving him in a breathless, giggly heap. 

Lia patted his shoulder affectionately. “See? You need to laugh more often. It suits you.”

Rolan groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You two… are absolute menaces,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

Cal released him, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Guess we’ll just have to annoy you more often then. Can’t have you turning into a grumpy tower hermit.”

“I am not grumpy.” Rolan huffed with a smile still lingering on his lips. 

Both of his siblings giggled. “Yeah, not anymore.”

A/N: I had another crappy week and sat down to write something really quick. I couldn't decide between the current title or "Hug Me, Brotha!", which would've been inspired by my favorite show growing up: Drake and Josh. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the story. I have something in the works for Zevlor too; but like most of my stuff, I don't know when it'll be posted 😅

...Okay bye 🏃🏿‍♀️

[tonydaddingham]

so just as any besties do, @teddybearbutchh and i were talking about the whole 'shax wears a cobra belt' thing, and we might have just dreamt up The Most heartstopping thing to date... but couple of key notes first:

i know people have remarked that shax most obviously wears the belt in the modern scenes, indicating some kind of power play that she pinched it from crowley's flat. issue is - im fairly sure that she wears it in 1941 (you can see a glimpse of it at the end when she's present in the audience between furfur and dagon), which would suggest it leans more towards herons-eat-snakes symbolic explanation. taking one step further, im regarding this as some kind of foreshadowing that there will be some kind of direct conflict between her and crowley

shax is either a social climber, or has incredible amounts of career ambition - probably a bit of both, but im leaning towards the latter. im still also of the mind that the reason she has the ear of the council is because she's an informant (and a good one at that) and her MO is to recruit others to do the dirty work for her... so when she tells furfur that she'll pay him back if he ever gives her information that she can use, it stands to reason that she'd be pretty miffed re: furfur seemingly going maverick to catch aziraphale and crowley in the act. i feel like her smirk at the end of the ep, plus how cold furfur is towards her in ep5, would support this somewhat

^but shax is still armed with the knowledge that there's something between aziraphale and crowley (furfur might not have hard proof anymore but he obviously wasn't lying, not when you consider his confidence from shax's perspective), and to catch them would be tantamount to a promotion

chekhov's gun #1: the derringer

chekhov's gun #2: zombies still roaming around london, with one of them presumably still having access to the bookshop if aziraphale invited her in when she posed as an MI operative

chekhov's gun #3: constant mentions in both 1941 flashbacks of 'the paperwork'

shax makes a point in the bentley to separate out the statement that there were rumours that aziraphale and crowley were "an item", which arguably is a good hop, skip and a jump away from "consorting and collaborating" as furfur termed it

a bit about the holy water: crowley first asks for it in 1862, after an indeterminate number of times/length of time in hell, probably under some kind of torture. he and aziraphale then presumably don't speak until 1941, but he remarks again how easy it would be to get holy water from the church, "it doesn't even have guards!". then it's in 1967 that he plans the heist to rob a church. now believe me, i love the explanation that crowley was simply inspired by good, ol' 007 to make getting the water as dramatic as possible, but. if he was that desperate for it, why not just... tempt someone, or even just ask someone for a bottle of it? from a church? i can't imagine that he'd purposefully wait 26 years for something that he felt was literally life-or-death (so to speak), and then only be reminded of it when JB came out? so, what was keeping him for a quarter of a century?

herein lies the batshit part 3 spec of 1941. shax takes advantage of the situation, to get ahead on the greasy pole; goes up to earth, finds the zombies, recruits them one last time to get into the bookshop - possibly to get ahold of the photograph and take the credit for furfur's scheme. 'lo and behold, aziraphale and crowley are low-key about to jump each other (waving the tired and battered 1941 truther flag), which is just plain excellent for shax - and would fuel the 'rumours' that they were an 'item'. but zombies give themselves away before anything juicy really happens (boo), and some kind of fight ensues.

derringer gets pulled out of the mystery book (bonus points if it's a bible, or something like sense and sensibility), crowley gets shot, probably trying to protect aziraphale, gets discorporated. he's summarily trapped in hell, sorting through the fucking paperwork, until sometime in the 1960s. reinvigorates his scheme to get his hands on holy water, aziraphale hears about it, and gives it to him (now having been confronted with The Direct Consequences hell will have for crowley if anything like this ever happens again), and wards him off from getting too close to aziraphale, because of the danger it poses. "you go too fast for me".

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: anxiety attacks (this poor, poor child)

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

okay, hello! I’m alive! so is our little redhead!

part nine

❝ HITTING THE CITY (PT 2) ❞

SATURDAY — JULY 21 — 9:15AM

WHEN VERA SAID THEIR BUILDINGS WERE RIGHT NEXT TO ONE ANOTHER, SHE WASN'T KIDDING.

The Columbus and Aristotle buildings were probably not even ten yards away from each other, the front doors connected by intricate, perfectly upkept sidewalks. There was a large courtyard in front of the two where the sidewalks connected, housing a painstakingly detailed fountain and a few perfectly preserved benches.

It had been far too easy for them to get out of the building. All they did was walk — no suspicious glances were thrown their way, no odd looks. They really just walked, straight outside and nobody really batted an eye.

The sun was still shining down on Redwood Academy, what had to be hundreds of kids and parents of all ages scurrying around the campus like ants, carrying boxes for moving in. They were everywhere, and still, it was significantly less than the mobs that Bentley, Asten, and Bruce had endured earlier that morning.

He, Asten, Koa, and Varian had taken up residence standing in the sunshine next to the huge concrete fountain. There were lots of students outside talking, catching up from the years before, it seemed — so they didn’t look all that suspicious. Still, the little Bruce Wayne in Bentley's head was giving him a patented dad-look.

“Why do girls take so long?” Varian whined, leaning back against the white fountain. He was wearing shorts and a blue t-shirt, now. “I could’ve written a book.”

“It’s a universal rule,” Koa muttered. He was now awake and alert — something he very much hadn’t been for the rest of the morning. In the sun, he looked even more like the state of California turned into a human, if that were possible. A moment of silence passed, and he shifted his attention to them instead of Varian. “So, Bruce Wayne, huh?”

Asten’s eyes flicked to him from his spot near the fountain, and Koa’s seafoam irises were bouncing between him and Bentley. They’d both changed into more presentable clothes, so, thankfully, they didn’t look homeless.

“We’ve already covered this like, four times,” Varian muttered, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Must be kind of awkward telling people that you’re Wayne’s, with all the rumors going around,” Koa said with a shrug. “I guess it’s a good thing none of us buy into that junk.”

Bentley scrunched his face up. “Rumors?”

Koa furrowed his brow, like it was weird that Bentley didn’t know what he meant. “Yeah, people are saying that-“

“It’s nothing, B,” Asten spoke up, shooting a sharp look in Koa’s direction. “It has nothing to do with you.”

Bentley watched as Asten and Koa engaged in some kind of silent exchange, before the Californian backed off, moving toward the fountain to lean against it next to Varian.

Bentley turned and gave Asten a questioning look. “Then what’s the harm in telling me?”

The Brazilian blinked, raking a hand through his blue hair. His green eyes bounced here and there before they finally settled on Bentley’s face. “It’s just… not something that needs to be in your head, okay? Trust me. And don’t go looking it up, or I’ll throw your computer out the dorm window.”

“Okay…” Bentley muttered, glancing down at his shoes.

A rumor? About Bruce, that Bentley wasn’t supposed to know? What could possibly be so controversial that Bentley didn’t need to know about it at all? Surely it wasn’t that Bruce was Batman, he and Asten could shoot that one down pretty quickly.

Ah, great. Now he had something to think about for the rest of the day.

“Finally! I was about to come check if you were dead!” Varian shouted. Asten and Bentley turned, and lo and behold, a little pack of girls was coming towards them from the opposite sidewalk.

Two were Vera and Layla, Bentley could tell that much. Vera had her hair tied up in these really fancy braids that let the purple shine through, and she was wearing black skinny jeans and a really huge bomber jacket that had to be burning her up. Layla was next to her, her polar opposite, in jean shorts and a tight, lime green tank top that didn’t quite meet her bottoms. Her blonde hair was slicked back into a knot on the top of her head. She looked very excited, while Vera seemed… neutral.

The third girl, he recognized as Georgia, the one who’d waited on them at the diner they’d gone to with Bruce. She wasn’t in her waitressing outfit anymore, but a pair of jean overalls instead, with what looked like only a brabeneath them — was Bentley allowed to look at that? He quickly averted his eyes away from her to the fourth girl; Summer, if he remembered correctly.

She was taller than Layla and Vera, but shorter than Georgia, with long not-quite-blonde-but-not-quite-brown hair. She had to be around Asten’s age, maybe, or a little younger. She had massive brown doe eyes on her face that somehow reminded Bentley of his own. She was in a dress, blue and flowy, with absolutely massive platformed sandals on her feet. He would break his neck trying to walk in those.

“Hey!” Layla exclaimed, literally bouncing over toward them until she collided with Varian, hugging him quickly and tightly. “This is gonna be so fun!”

Bentley’s eyes strayed to Vera, who, despite looking pretty angry and dawning probably too high of a temperature, managed to smile at him.

He smiled back.

“Asten, Bentley, this is Georgia and Summer, some of our roommates. Georgia, Summer, this is Bentley and Asten. Bruce Wayne’s kids,” Layla explained, gesturing to the other two girls. Both Georgia and Summer greeted them quietly with smiles on their faces, and Bentley said hello back. Asten said nothing.

Bentley glanced over at him momentarily, and just as he’d expected — he was staring. At Georgia, like it was his first time seeing the sun in his whole life.

Bentley nudged him with his shoe, and he blinked. 

“Hey…”

Georgia’s face turned a shade of red that Bentley didn’t even know was possible. Did that mean she liked that he lost all cognitive function when she came around? Bentley was so out of his element it was nearly painful to watch, and even more painful to understand.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to understand for too long — someone tackled him.

He made a small, embarrassing noise when Layla did her bouncing thing right into him, hugging around his neck tightly. His arms hovered out to her sides and stayed there. Was he… he wasn’t supposed to touch girls, was he? He hugged Steph and Cass sometimes, but they didn’t really count, did they? She was maybe a tiny bit taller than him, so if he hugged her back, his arms would be around her waist, and that was kinda super weird. Why did girls make him kind of… uncomfortable?

Over her shoulder, Bentley saw Vera smirk. “Personal space, Layla. He looks like he’s going into windows reboot.”

“Oh,” Layla pulled away abruptly, her blue eyes scouring his face for a moment before her ever-enduring bubbliness died down a little. Her expression turned slightly sour.  “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“It’s okay,” Bentley muttered, glancing from her face to the ground awkwardly. He tried to work up something else to say, but nothing came, and instead, he just sort of stood there under all the eyes that were now on them.

“Where are we going?” Georgia piped up. All eyes turned to her, and Bentley was thankful for the distraction. Layla drifted away from him back to Vera’s side like a sad puppy. It wasn’t his fault she was upset, was it?

“I don't actually know,” Vera stated, glancing at Layla and Sunmer, then over at Varian and Koa. 

“You four are the ones who’ve lived here forever,” Koa stated, gesturing to the girls. “Lead the way.”

“As if you don’t spend over half a year here every year,” Vera snickered, shaking her head and turning on her heel. “Alright, then, you asked for it. Come on.”

The eight of them started out of the courtyard, Bentley taking up residence at the back of the group with Varian. Asten was walking next to Koa, who was carrying on conversation with Summer, since she was walking ahead of him. Which gave Asten a perfect excuse to attempt to talk to Georgia.

Bentley couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the way his face kept getting redder led him to believe it probably wasn’t working.

Bentley sighed heavily. “He goes to a different dimension whenever she’s around,” He stated quietly, gesturing forward. “Asten.”

Varian hummed quietly, kicking a little pebble off of the sidewalk with the hiss of his shoe against the concrete. “He’d better not get too attached — Georgia’s Rockie’s girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Bentley said dumbly, blinking in surprise and glancing forward at them. Georgia seemed really… he didn’t know. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah. It’s been a while for them now. People say high school relationships don’t work but… I think they will. They both came from sketchy places and helped each other through transitioning here,” Varian explained quietly. “They would probably kill for each other.”

Okay, so that wasn’t great for Asten, then. Bentley took a mental note to tell him about that later — just so he didn’t enter into unnecessary beef with their scariest roommate.

“Oh. That’s good. I guess…” Bentley muttered, glancing down at his shoes as they walked. Vera was leading them between the buildings and down a smaller sidewalk — one that led to the parking lots. “I’m not very good with girls.”

“Layla seems to like you,” Varian shrugged, their brown eyes meeting for a second before both looked back down. “I don’t much care for girls. I’m sure I will one day, but… not today.”

Bentley blinked. That was… strangely similar to what he felt about the whole situation. “I’m having a hard enough time just trying to be a teenager.”

Varian snickered. “Me, too. Although I think girls are one of the ways guys try to figure out being teenagers,” He continued, shrugging. “Keyword; try. I prefer to do it without dragging some girl into the depths of my weirdness.”

Bentley smiled faintly. “I guess that’s a good way to put it.”

Varian shrugged. “I wasn’t exposed to many romantic relationships for most of my life, so… I really have no desire or… business being in one.”

Bentley hummed in acknowledgment. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t interested in girls like Asten or Nico? Because romance had never been a part of his life? His father never had any romantic partners after his mother died, and Bruce never had one, either. He was pretty sure Dick and Barbara were an item, but the eldest Wayne was super ultra careful to keep it private and mostly out of the Manor. He wasn’t sure about Jason, and he wasn’t sure about Tim, although was pretty positive Tim was married to his computer at this point. He remembered that he’d dated Steph once, but that was long before Bentley, and it was not a topic up for discussion ever. Duke, Bentley thought, had had a girlfriend for a small blip of time — but he never saw her. And Damian wasn’t into romance.

With all the brothers a kid could have, one would think Bentley was at least a little accustomed to romance or romance-drama. But, alas, the most girl-oriented guys he knew ended up being Nico and Asten.

Bentley stayed quiet as the eight of them cut through the parking lots, this time, earning just a couple of glances from people getting stuff from their vehicles. Vera led the way with confidence, though — so he didn’t question it.

“You okay, red?”

Bentley glanced up at Vera, but she wasn’t looking at him. It had most definitely been her voice, though. He glanced at Varian, who wasn’t looking at him or her.

“Your mind is so full I can’t make out what’s in it,”

Bentley cleared his throat, glancing back at the ground. What use was hiding stuff from a girl who could read his mind? Could he even hide anything? 

“It’s all different,” He forced himself to think, as though he were talking straight to her face. “Being a teenager, going to a school, moving away from home — just a lot, is all.”

A moment passed.

“Please stop reading my mind,”

Vera’s voice never returned.

She led them down a few smaller, winding sidewalks, until they were on the edge of a real road. It took a lot of walking, but the Redwood grounds eventually turned into large roads, and not too far from them, buildings shooting up into the bright blue sky like stalagmites in a cave. Everyone was talking quietly ahead of them, while Bentley and Varian stayed mostly quiet, looking to the views around them instead.

A chorus of four beeps sounded from the little machine on Varian’s arm, and Bentley glanced at it. It read 192.

Varian cringed at it and pressed a few buttons, muttering: “Well, that’s why I feel like crap.” under his breath.

Bentley tried not to be nosey, glancing back up at the rest of the group to see if anyone else had reacted to the beeping. It seemed as though they hadn’t heard it — Koa had been the most in-tune to it earlier, but now he was in-tune with Summer and out of tune with literally everything else.

So, Bentley breathed in. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Oh, yeah,” Varian replied, pressing a few more buttons and putting his arm back down by his side. “Just gotta get this number down before I go puking everywhere. I’m real bad about puking when I go high.”

Bentley blinked. “Do you feel bad?”

“Pretty much always,” Varian shrugged, glancing at the machine. “I’m not good at keeping my blood sugar in the normal range… it pretty much always spikes and dips over and over. But I’m fine managing symptoms. I’ve been this way forever.”

Bentley nodded slightly, glancing forward again. If Varian had been that way since he was born, he had to believe he knew what he was doing.

So, he didn’t say anything else.

A good length walk later, they were finally getting into the city. The sidewalks started to fill with people, and the buildings all around them got taller and taller the deeper they went. The sky became less sky and more skyscraper, turning into more of a backdrop for the city instead of the centerpiece of the view.

Layla turned around with a giddy look on her face, her excitement, thankfully, restored. “I’m taking you guys to my house!”

Bentley cringed. The little Bruce inside of him did not like the idea of a bunch of teenagers, equal parts guys and girls, leaving campus to go to one of their houses. It seemed… he didn’t know. Secrety. Weird. 

Apparently, he was the only one who took that train of thought, as no one — not even Asten — seemed to care.

(Although he was pretty distracted by a girl who was wearing a bra as a shirt. Bentley still couldn’t make himself look at her.)

He kept his eyes on the city, instead, watching all the shops pass. There were so many things around — clothing stores that the girls kept ogling into, restaurants, libraries, things like eye doctors and dentists, video game stores, theaters, bakeries, and a few things called adult toy stores that had actually broken Asten out of his Georgia trance long enough for him to grab Bentley by the face and tell him not to look. 

Bentley didn’t look.

Everything in New York was so… bright. There were lots of colors, and lots of people, and lots of cars and sounds and smells. They passed a hot dog cart that was just about the weirdest thing Bentley had ever seen. (Seriously, who wants a hot dog from a cart?)

There were people on the sidewalks who looked rich, some that looked not so rich, some that might have been homeless. Old people, young people, kids like them, kids younger than them. Ethnicities Bentley had never seen in Gotham or Drew before. 

It was sort of… a lot. A really cool a lot, but a lot.

He stayed close to Varian’s side, and close behind Asten as they walked. The sidewalks were so crowded sometimes they had to stop and wait, or push through, or split up. There were so many people. So many heartbeats. So much blood.

Bentley inhaled sharply when he started hearing the heartbeats. Not just his, not just his group’s, but everybody— hundreds of them. Their blood was moving in their veins, gallons of it, suddenly so loud he made a noise of surprise. All the water in the city, billions upon billions of gallons, running through his head, roaring like waterfalls. It suddenly got really hard to think.

Someone grabbed his wrists. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t even know. He couldn’t even tell who was talking to him. He didn’t know what was going on.

“Move, get out of my way,” Came a second voice he also couldn’t identify. He was lucky he heard it at all over the absolute roaring chaos that was filling his entire mind. Why couldn’t he see? “Can you hear me, red?”

Someone touched his face. “Holy shit, your mind.”

Someone else said something that he couldn’t really hear. He couldn’t hear much of anything, actually. He couldn’t hear the cars anymore, or the people walking, or the voices. All he could hear was the water. The blood.

“Stop drifting. Focus on me,” Came a voice that was oddly loud among the screaming of the water. Someone grabbed his hands. “Listen to me, not everything else. I know you can hear me.”

He could hear them, yes, but he had not a clue who they were. He gripped tightly onto the hands that were holding his. “…Asten.”

“I’m here. I’m right here — it's okay,” It was faint, but he heard it. Quieter than the other voice. 

“Stop holding your breath, dummy. Exhale,”

Bentley obeyed the strange voice.

“Inhale,” 

He obeyed again. There were hands all over him now — on his back, his head, his hands, his arms.

“Asten,”

“He’s right here. Open your eyes and look at him,”

“Can’t,”

“Stop holding your breath, Bentley,” It reprimanded. “Exhale.”

He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know who was talking to him, and he didn’t know what was going on. But the voice told him again to inhale, so he did. How could he hear it so good through all the chaos?

“You’re overstimulating yourself. All you have to do is end it, red. Focus on your power. Reroute it. Turn it off,”

“Can’t,” He wheezed.

“Who is he talking to?” Came a distant voice.

“Me, dumbass,” Came another. “Open your eyes and look at us. It’ll help.”

Bentley tried to force his eyelids open, but they didn’t really move. 

“Turn it off. These powers don’t control you, you control them. So turn. Them. Off,”

Bentley took a deep breath, attempting to force the blood to quiet. For the water to get out of his head. How was he just supposed to cut it off? If he couldn’t even control his body, how could he control his powers?

“Open your eyes and look at us,”

With what remaining willpower he had left, he forced his eyes open.

Vera’s face was hovering not a foot from his own, her eyes boring into his. She had a death grip on his hands, which was strange, considering shewasn’t the one having the anxiety attack. 

He glanced to his left. He was sitting on the ground now, which he hadn’t noticed at all in the moment. Varian was there, holding onto his left arm for dear life, like Bentley would literally float away if he didn’t. His demeanor was completely changed, his brown eyes swirling with worry and fear.

On his right sat Asten, cool as a cucumber, like he always was. One of his hands was supporting Bentley’s head at the base of his neck, the other resting on one of his knees that was pulled up to his chest. He didn’t remember sitting down, nor did he remember curling up like that.

The water started to quiet. The blood started to fade.

Layla, Summer, Georgia, and Koa were hovering off to the side, all watching with varying degrees of worry. He couldn’t bring himself to look at them. Why, of all times, did it have to be in front of all of his supposed-to-be friends that his body decided it was a good time to go berserk without him?

He breathed in, looking down at the concrete of the sidewalk beneath him. The people walking were making wide circles around the group, not a single one stopping to check if they were alright.

He exhaled shakily. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, wrenching his hands from Vera’s grip to bring up and wipe over his face. It wasn’t wet, which meant he hadn’t cried — which made the whole thing a tiny bit less embarrassing, he guessed.

“Hey, no. Don’t say sorry,” Asten ordered, squeezing his knee gently. “That was a short one — it wasn’t so bad. Maybe ten minutes.”

Bentley glanced up at the rest of the group, only to glance immediately back down at their worried gazes. 

“Should we go back to the school?” Summer questioned, and Vera immediately shook her head. 

“That’s a long walk for someone who just had a literal panic attack,” 

“We’re close to my house,” Layla suggested, glancing up the street. “Let’s take him there.”

Bentley said nothing, but kept looking down at his own hands. Asten’s hand moved from the back of his neck up, raking through his hair like Bruce did. It was something they’d learned over time; constant touch — a system Bruce had come up with to keep Bentley present after anxiety attacks, to keep him from slipping away again. But, given the way Varian was holding onto him for dear life, he was pretty sure they’d be okay in that department.

“Is that okay with you, B?” Asten muttered from right next to him. Bentley inhaled, then nodded.

“Yeah…” Anywhere away from judgmental eyes was good, in his book. A hole in the middle of the desert would also suffice.

With a few hands of help, Bentley was hauled off the ground, and after a moment, they started walking.

Of course, of all the times in the world, he’d have an attack then.

What else should he have expected? His life hardly went to plan.

He just hoped that after this, it would… Y’know. Give him a break, maybe?

(Probably not.)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld ❤️

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[devildom-dedicated-daydreams]

An Unlikely Backer (Mammon x Reader) Chapter 4

Previous Chapter: Today I'm a Cute French Maid

Full arc title: The Unfavored Daughter Chooses an Unlikely Backer (link to arc masterlist here)

Chapter title: The Best Things in Life are Free, the Second Best Things…

Word count: 1.6K

Pairing: Mammon x FMC, Mammon x F!Reader

MAMMON

The duchy was falling apart. The mines had been stripped of every piece of gold and diamond they could offer and Mammon was now feeding his people from his own pocket. Sure the royal family would give a hefty award for winning the war but he had hundreds of people living in the dukedom, he had a lot of mouths to feed and he needed a separate award for the men who accompanied him to battle. The royal sum won’t last them long.

“You keep sighing.” It was his former nanny and current head maid, Everleigh. She brought him a pot of tea. He really didn’t like tea, but it wasn’t like they could afford wine or hot chocolate anymore. He technically could, but then what would the people eat?

“Leigh, what should I do? I suck at writing letters.” He had crumpled at least a dozen pieces of paper trying to find a way to ask for a loan from Viscount Leopold. 

“Take a break, Your Grace, you haven’t rested since you arrived yesterday.”

Unable to resist temptation, he snuck out for a drink at Ammencera Promenade without his men to clear his head. But of course, they caught him.

With another sigh, he gave up. “I think I will take a break.”

Leigh grinned before bowing and living his study.

He finished every drop of the warm tea before retiring to his bedroom.

The next morning he woke up earlier than the break of dawn, slipped into plain-looking trousers and the dirty white shirt he wore when he sparred with the knights, and escaped back to Ammencera Promenade. Everleigh didn’t like him going there, not because it was the so-called “land of the peasants,” but because she didn’t want him getting caught and ostracized even more by the other nobles.

He didn’t care what the other nobles thought about him though.

He passed by several decrepit buildings and a bunch of construction workers and glassware makers laughing.

“They look awfully cheery for men who are awake this early in the morning,” Mammon said as he met with Richard, the elderly toymaker he met with last night before getting his drink. 

“I hear business is booming.”

“Huh.” Mammon shrugged. “Ya got what I asked?”

Richard chuckled. “Ten dolls and ten soldiers, just like you commissioned.”

Mammon beamed and gave him his payment before taking the sack of toys from his old friend. “Thanks, Richard. I may need to come back again so do your best to stay alive.”

“Ha! Never gets old.”

Mammon hurried to the orphanage, where Winnet stood holding her own sack. “Finally! I thought I was going to freeze to death.”

“Why didn’t you wait inside?”

“I was worried you’d get lost with all this fresh snow.”

“I’m not that stupid.”

“I really doubt it.”

“Where are the wonder twins?”

“At home, exhausted.” Minette grinned. “They had a rush order and they found their new ‘muse.’”

“Really?” That was a first. 

“Well, come on, the kids are waiting.”

***

YOU

You were in the library when Lyrra informed you that your purchases have been delivered to the estate. 

“Send them to my room.” Without looking away from your book, you tossed her a coin, which she shakingly caught with both hands. 

“Yes, milady!”

“And be sure to call me when lunch is prepared.”

“Of course.”

The system watched the maid skip away with glee before dinging. [Won’t the family be mad about the giant hole you left in their pocket?]

You chuckled. “I’m counting on it.”

Lo and behold, your father was fuming when he caught you walking into the dining hall for lunch.

You ignored his and your stepmother’s glares as you made your way to your seat. No one spoke a word while the servants brought the meal. No one moved even when the last plate was set down.

Shrugging to yourself, you picked up your spoon to try the soup–the head of the house coughed loudly, an act that even a young child of any nobleman would deem inappropriate and rude.

You didn’t flinch, of course, in fact, you haven’t acknowledged his presence since you entered. The man has ignored this body 90 percent of the time. 

Smiling tenderly, you proceeded to eat first.

That set him off. “You dare eat!”

You set down the spoon and dabbed your chin with your napkin before making eye contact. He was a sour-looking man, with graying hair and a nasty set of distracting yellowing teeth. 

You offered a small but loose. "It is lunch time, is it not? You all seemed unwilling to eat so I went ahead and took the first bite to show you that the food isn't poisoned."

Your father turned pink so his loving wife stepped in, grinning forcefully at you. "I hear you went out shopping."

Your sisters lit up at the mention of the merchandise delivered at the door. 

"I saw everything. I didn't even recognize any of the branding," commented Deneve. 

“So many things and yet so little taste,” added Alma. “That reminds me you’re wearing an interesting ensemble today, sister.”

“Yes, the redness of your lips is so lovely. You look worthy enough to be married to Marquess Whitlock.”

Marquess Whitlock was an old man notorious for sleeping around with the so-called ladies of the night.

The two girls burst into a fit of muffled giggling, content with their wittiness.

“Now, girls, be nice to your sister. It’s your job to guide her during times like this.” Your stepmother was definitely smirking behind that veneer of pity and sympathy she showed you.

You merely hummed. “I don’t blame you for not noticing the brand names, after all, the Queen was the one who suggested them. She also complimented the glow of my face when I visited her the other day.”

The girls froze and a silence befell the room. To insult the Queen’s taste, the opinion of anybody from the royal family, was a major faux pas akin to social suicide. There was an old legend about a king from long ago who went to war and came home with a woman with origins unknown. Not much was known about her aside from her love of flowers. During a tea party, one of the guests innocently inquired why she wore a floral dress, as the pattern was commonly associated with little girls. The king cut the person’s tongue and florals bombarded the market for years.

Even if the majority found it over-the-top, no one would ever talk badly about how you previously donned the violet of the royal family or how your former fiance insisted on wearing flashy suits. (Not where it could be heard, anyway.)

“Nonetheless, even you have spent way more than necessary,” your father said. 

Before you could open your mouth, your stepbrother, Bardrich, defended you, “Father, Alma and Deneve have spent more on fur coats and hats this season, I’m sure a few more won’t be too bad.”

You narrowed your eyes but quickly smiled at him. 

Bardrich wasn’t horrible to look at. In fact, he was one of the female lead’s many admirers who made several appearances in the webcomic. They first met with her in a tree and she yelled at him for saying it was unladylike. He ate up the “not like other girls” act like grapes. 

However, your body had no memories of this man outside of being just one of the members of your distant family, so it was a big shock for him to defend you like this.

“I beg your pardon, my lord, my ladyship.” The butler arrived holding a silver tray with a single letter.

You knew exactly what it was–

“It’s a royal invitation to the celebratory ball.”

The mood in the dining hall lightened instantly as everyone discussed what to wear and who to expect.

You quietly finished your lunch before excusing yourself to your room, leaving the family to their own. 

[My Host, your ability to lie while smiling sweetly continues to impress me. Now please explain just what you’re going to do when everyone arrives at the ball and sees that Queen is wearing the same unflattering makeup!]

“No need to yell.” You picked up the boxes that didn’t have the Winfred’s logo. You unwrapped a wooden box freshly varnished and beautifully inlaid with rose flowers. You then went to find the other boxes that didn’t contain clothes or accessories. After finding the different glass vials, you opened the Witches’ Cauldron Chem Set and made a facial cleanser kit, then you made a hypoallergenic powder, a blush, and a lipstick, each one contained in ornate, professionally carved glass and metal containers. You had to thank Winnet for introducing you to such talented craftsmen.

You then wrote her a letter which included the usual greetings and polite chitchat in addition to your instructions: “Please avoid using your usual makeup during these three weeks as they will interfere with the treatment. If you must paint your face, please use the ones I have included in the box.”

When everybody was asleep, you rang for Lyrra. You handed her a delicately wrapped box and the sealed letter. 

You slipped her a pouch of gold coins. “This must be sent ASAP, and no one else but you and the delivery man is to know about it, understand?”

She nodded, arms heavy with your gifts to Her Majesty and her salary.

“Oh, and before you go.” You threw her something. “Consider this a reward for your good job.”

Lyrra drooled at the diamond bracelet between her fingertips. “I’ll continue to serve you faithfully!”

“I’m sure you will.”

[semper-legens]

76. Crumbs, by Danie Stirling

Owned: No, library Page count: 383 My summary: Ray has a favourite order at her local bakery - tea with a side of Romance. When she catches the eye of Laurie, the musician-turned-barista behind the bar, there’s a spark between them instantly. But it’s never that simple when magic is on the cards. Ray is a seer, aiming for a job on the Council; the Council who must erase themselves from the memories of anyone they used to know. And Laurie wants to get serious with his music. Will they be able to make it work, or is love not possible for someone with ambitions? My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

I read this one before - for some reason, I was thinking of it recently, and lo and behold, there it was sitting on the shelves for me to reread. It's a charming little story, one that was a Webtoon before being collected into a graphic novel format. A tale of love and loss and tough choices; a coming-of-age narrative in more ways than one. It's also the right kind of length to read in one sitting, which is handy for me - I really like that in a graphic novel. I was utterly charmed by it again, and I'd recommend checking it out.

In my earlier post, I didn't really give much time to the art, so I'm going to talk about it now! It's very colourful, with a mystic kind of haze over it and a lot of rounded lines. I keep saying the word 'charming', but that's really what it was, it was charming in its presentation. I wasn't sure, however, if some of the art didn't suffer a bit from being upscaled into a print comic format? Some of the haziness that I had assumed was stylistic came across at times as blurriness, and I didn't really see why that was being used. It wasn't too distracting, it was just something I noticed. Other than that, though, it's gorgeous art, and in particular the artist really makes the baked goods and coffee Ray gets at the bakery look very appealing.

Ray and Laurie are very believable characters. Caught in the awkward young adult stage where you're just kind of coasting by and figuring out who you are and what you want from the rest of your life, they're trying their hardest to make it in their respective paths. Laurie wants to be a musician, while Ray wants to be on the Council. But both of those ambitions come with problems. Laurie, as I said in my earlier post, was very relatable to me - he wants to be all things to all people, but this is often at the expense of his own happiness, and he doesn't ask for help or rely on others easily. Ray, on the other hand, wants to follow the path that was set out for her by her gifts - she wants to do Great Things, but cannot quite accept that placing herself where her abilities will be most useful is not the most glamorous of work. These are both really credible experiences for people at that age and in that position in life, and seeing Ray mature enough to go on and do great things or Laurie be able to reach out and be more honest about how he feels and when he's struggling is immensely satisfying.

I also like the worldbuilding here - there's very little exposition or explanation, and when it happens it's mostly organic and comes up naturally over the course of the narrative. This is a strength of the graphic novel format, I feel, elements can be introduced purely visually and the reader can intuit what's going on. Like the phones, for example - phones in this setting seem to be inhabited by little familiar spirits that can compose messages and set reminders for you, which is never explained, but we see it happening a few times and get the gist. Or how Ray's order at the bakery is Romance; we're never quite told that it's enchanted, but we understand it from context. As an overly wordy bastard who tends to write prose exclusively, I am jealous.

Next…a little book from a being named Bill.

[bookwyrminspiration]

also revisiting. GALEN AND QOWN???? was NOT expecting that turn but bro look at them (looks at them with the utmost tenderness) how are they so sweet. how does that even happen. i am so happy for them *blasting them with the joy of a thousand suns* i just like. OUGH. and getting to see GALEN first of all i really did forget about thaena for a hot minute in the first half of the memory of souls but getting to see him this ENTIRE BOOK was a fucking TREAT and to see him grown, or just free, and happy, and in a lavender marriage (but also just like the platonic marriage, the sheer care between him and sheloran is so beautiful) and just thriving in what he wants and what his wife wants and being able to actually love someone romantically so hard that it makes him vulnerable. it was SO gorgeous SUCH a solid character and then QOWN CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! discovering that he is fucking!!!! worthy of love and care and someone who will remind him to eat and care enough to make sure that he Can eat and people who respect his fucking boundaries!!!! that scene when caless (i can't remember her mortal name haha. the high lady d'talus) was like you should have told me to go fuck myself for calling you ugly and changing everything about you. who did this to you that you don't even bother to give a shit? ohhhh man. when i tell you the sheloran scene after vol karoth pulled galen out of the lighthouse made me cry i am so so serious i was sobbing right along with qown. i think all of the other things about this book were beautiful but also a thing i could have expected to happen whereas the qown and galen arc absolutely threw me for a loop emotion wise as in: despite starting this out realizing quickly it was going to be a therapy session for the characters i was not expecting there to be something about self love and acceptance in here that was just. so genuinely soft. obviously there is hurt and fear and so much pain but the two of them are so gentle with each other, yk??? also i (like janel) assumed qown was old and going to be a side character forever! glad to know this was not the case ESPECIALLY when it brought us this

Neither was I! Like you, i thought that when we left Galen in book 1 that we'd never see him again, but lo and behold he's actually got quite the role to play! Was bursting at the seams trying not to say anything when you mentioned being sad we'd probably never see him again.

We knew from book 1 Galen was queer, but was not expecting religious man who's life has fallen apart has internalized homophobia and faces it to chase his happiness. I made a post when reading this book that Qown desperately needed a hug and I stand by that statement. He is such a wet rag of a man for a hot minute there. He really is put through the works emotionally. And it's both adorable and heartbreaking how oblivious he was to all of Galen's flirting and attempts to win his heart.

And Galen and Sheloran! When she was first introduced I thought she'd be an unimportant mentioned-once character (likely because of what Senera noted, which was that Thurvishar edited her role in his first volume to protect her), so I was quite surprised to see her here. But I adore her so. Her passion, her charm, her positivity, her drive. Her and Galen's friendship is so touching, I'm so glad they found each other. The only two good royals in the world <3

And that Caless scene...man. A little obvious in it's "hey look at what this implies about Qown and his self-worth" but I appreciate it because I very well might have overlooked that the first time otherwise. He was just so lost and so confused and so used. His entire life was a lie and all he wanted was to make it better, and Relos Var promised a way. He wanted so badly for that to be real

Qown and Galen are so soft and tender with each other, they've both been so hurt for who they are but despite that they've found each other and been brave enough to risk it. Though really it was a phenomenally bad time to risk it making out in the mind of a quasi-dead god while under attack.

Another thing it highlights for me is how diverse the characters personalities are? Because Qown's mental voice and perception is so different from how everyone else functions--you'd never imagine janel thinking anything like this, for example. So as heartbreaking as it is to see what he thinks, at the same time I'm nodding in appreciation at the variation in character voices

[always-music0]

Run Rabbit Run

Hannah would considers herself the unluckiest girl in the world,having being born into a tangled web of murderers and monsters that live in your closet and under your bed. Until one day an unforeseen issue makes its way into her already fucked life and now if she thought her life sucked it’s about to get a whole lot worse.

Pt.3

A Creepypasta/Twilight crossover 18+

Bella was super fucking nice..

She showed me to the office and we coincidentally had the same schedule so we walked to every class together, she even took the heat from the nerdy Asian dude who tried to touch me.

Although I had steered her away from the people I was 99% sure were vampires, but to give them the benefit of the doubt they didn’t smell like human blood which was odd to say the least.

At lunch she pulled me to sit with a bunch of weirdos the Asian dude introduced us too. As they all chatted away I opened my lunch made by the twitchy fuck. A little note with serial killer hand writing laid neatly on top of the paper bag

‘Have a good first day I’m watching you :)’

I lifted my head to the window overlooking the forest that backed up the school and lo and behold up in a tree with his own fucking packed lunch was Toby twitching away.

I sighed and pulled out the sandwich he made me and took a bite as he waved at me. I lifted my hand unenthusiastically in response

“Who are you waving to?” Bella asked and I flinched

“What? I’m just stretching my arm” I said extending my arm up and over her shoulders she laughed and shrugged my arm off and I smiled as I listened to their conversation

All of a sudden the air seemed to shift as the group of wannabe vampires walked in

“Who are they?” Bella asked and I perked up to what one of the girls at the table had to say about them.

“They’re the Cullens..” she started, and honestly went on for ages about how attractive, weird and not that good with people… honestly about the same as my three dipshits, Bella seemed to be intrigued with the last one Edward but to be fair he was pretty looking definitely not my type though.

After a little while longer and Bella stealing glances at the Cullens the bell rang singling the end of lunch. As me and Bella walked towards out next class I realized something.

“Did you see them eat?” I asked and Bella looked confused

“What?” She asked and I frowned the pit in my stomach growing larger

“They don’t take a single bite of their food…” I trailed off as we passed two of them in the hallway.

“Maybe they weren’t hungry” Bella said walking past me and I gulped as I made eye contact with the big one

“Yeah maybe..” I scurried past them pulling Bella along

“Common we’re gonna be late.” I said pulling her arm towards our next class.

A few classes later we arrived in biology be escorted by one of Bella’s new pals,And to my utter horror there sat Edward Cullen at a table alone I scanned the room for any other empty seats and couldn’t find any obvious ones. We walked up to the teacher and he smiled

“New Students! I hope you both can keep up well, this being the middle of the year and all..” he said and handed us some books and papers

“Uhh Bella you can take a seat next to mike and Hannah… sense this is your first time according to your transcript in AP biology 3 I’m gonna have you sit next to…” Don’t say it don’t say it don’t say it done day it..

“Edwards, he can sorta show you the ropes”

Fuck.

“With all due respect sir I have been in numerous AP bio classes even some collage courses I’m sure I will be fine sitting somewhere else” I tried to deflect as my hair stood on end. He was watching me

“Oh well even so if you have any questions Edward is more than capable of answering them.” He said and shooed us to take out seats.

Great just fucking great.

I slowly walked over to where he sat, he reeked of animal blood and I tried not to scrunch my nose.

He looked up at me as I sat down.

“Hello, I’m Edward..” he said politely but his voice almost sounded strained.

I nodded and sat down

Setting my stuff out and taking out my notepad and pens

“You’re Hannah right?” He asked and I nodded again I could feel the strength radiating off of him and his blood lust almost rivaled a certain painter I knew

“Yeah..” I said and turned my attention to my notebook and book

Ask the class continued I took notes but kept my guard up and paid close attention the the thing sitting next to me and as the class went on he became more and more uncomfortable looking, he keep looking at Bella and then me and then Bella and then me and I hated the way his eyes darkened.

I looked at the clock it was a minute until the bell would ring. He shot up right as it rang and bolted out the door.

I looked over at Bella and she looked confused, I tried not to let my relief show on my face that he was gone.

I walked up to Bella

“What’s his deal?” She asked and I shrugged

“I have no clue” I lied as we walked out the door and to the office as we reached the main office I felt the buzz of my phone and stoped

“You go ahead I’ll be right there” I said and pulled out my phone, Bella nodded and walked in as I opened my phone

It was a text from Tim.

‘Need your help will pick you up soon’

I sighed I never liked helping Tim

As I put my phone away and turned to walk into the office I was almost ran over by the thing I was trying to avoid the most

Edward.

“Woah” I said and he glared down at me,

I glared back up at him make sure to try and convey as much distrust as I could

He went to go walk away and I cleared my throat, he turned and looked at me again

“Do yourself a favor.” I said and he tilted his head I took a breath and continued

“Stay away from me and stay away from Bella” I finished and walked into the office, I looked back through the glass in the door and saw him staring at me with a confused and concerned look I nodded at him and he quickly walked off.

Bella was still talking to the office lady when I got there and she quickly got me up to speed.

After finishing up some paperwork my phone buzzed once again

‘Be out front in 5’ it read and i huffed

“Everything ok?” Bella asked and I nodded

“Uh yeah my ride is almost here and he gets kinda prissy when he has to wait” I shuddered just thinking of Tim walking in here to come collect me

“Oh well maybe we could ride together some days…” she offered and I smiled at her. It was a nice thought to have friends who would bring me to school and hang out after school or something but I knew that couldn’t happen

“Yeah maybe, but my… guardians?” They definitely weren’t like brothers or best friends or anything really, they had a two jobs. Go wherever boss told them to go and watch over me they weren’t really ones to do something for the benefit of others “are kinda overprotective..” I said and she nodded

“Well If you ever need a ride let me know” she said and I smiled.

“I will” I said as we walked out of the school and into the foggy air right on cue Tim pulled up on his motorcycle and I winced ‘he couldn’t fix the truck and he’s probably in a bad moon’ I thought and trotted down the statues towards him Bella went to follow me and I turned

“Hey Umm my people are kinda interesting…, and I know for a fact he’s in a bad mood… maybe just stay up here until I leave” I said and she tilted her head confused

“Ok?” She agreed unsure

“Great thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow” I said and started jogging down the stairs

Tim had already been watching me

“Who’s that?” He asked as he handed me a helmet when I had got down there

“She showed me around school today I don’t know” I said putting it on

“You don’t know? He sighed and I shrugged

“I didn’t care enough” I said climbing on

“Hmm if you say so…” he said slowly he kicked the kickstand up

“Hold on” he said and I wrapped my arms around him he kicked off and rode out of the parking lot and into the street.

A/N: Part three bay-bee! I’m having a lot of fun putting thease together and I hope those of you who find this weird fic are enjoying it as much as me! And again thank you always for reading it really makes me happy to make stories out of the scenarios I come up with. As always have a great day/night and life!!

[chris-joseph]

A teacher who moved away for a few years is back in our school and is terrorising my friendgroup (okay, I'm exaggerating just a bit, but I still stand by my statement lel)

The backstory is this: When I first got into middleschool, I had this dude (who I'm going to call Mr. T for the sake of protecting his identity, but also because I don't want anyone from my school finding this) as my art teacher. To help you visualize him, just imagine that one uncle that you see once every few years who dresses kinda sloppy and doesn't really do much work on his appearance because there are more important things in life. He had always been a goofy guy. Back in the day, my friends and I were much more embarrassing than we are now and sort of joked with him and stuff. We created an imaginary fanclub and clapped for him whenever he passed us in the hallways. I recall how one of my friends and I would beg him to flip us off after class (he would occasionally reward us with the middle finger if we got lucky), not really sure why. He was in on the bit, though, and he'd play into it. His whole spiel was being a cool and 'different' teacher. I suppose he sort of was, looking back now.

Anyway, he moved after that schoolyear (pretty sure he was dating a teacher who works in another department at our school during that time, since he released a book just before he left, in which he gives her a shoutout). Lo and behold, he's back.

My friends and I are in grade 10 now (well, with one exception) and he's now part of the staff again.

We'd seen him on campus a few times (my school is K-12 btw), but hadn't interacted with him until one fateful day; We were sat at a table in the aula, eating, and noticed that Mr. T was the supervising teacher on that particular day. He was sitting not too far from us and I could observe him steal a glance every once and a while. Eventually he stood up and came by our table, slamming (more or less) an authoritative hand on our table. He proceeded to say something along the lines of: "Y'all used to clap for me, I want to hear clapping whenever I pass/walk (can't recall exactly which of these two words he used) by." Hesitantly, we did as he said and clapped for him infront of the entire aula. It was wildly embarrassing watching some people at nearby tables turn to look at us in confusion.

Since then it's been nonstop. Whenever he sees us he'll do a face or try to spook us. Once my friend was caught off guard by him in the halls, and shrieked in surprise. His reaction? "I have that effect on most women"... Yikes. She's become one of his primary targets. Once he pretended like he was going to knock her books out of her hands while exclaiming loudly in the crowded hallway. Another time he went freaky mode was when he passed my friend and I at the bus stop and as he was going by he turned his head and stuck his tongue out at us, with his hands by the sides of his face, pulling a wacky grimasse.

I don't know how he wants us to react, cause what even is the point??

I think it's sort of funny, but also sooo unnecessary. He's cool tho. Just felt like sharing lol

[libraryofbaxobab]

February 6th, 2024:

Actually literally might be the worst book I'll read all year. This was so bad it's actually disrespectful. Disrespectful to me for being a waste of my time, but even worse it's disrespectful to its own characters.

First, it doesn't bother to give them traits or development; instead, it hangs a sign that says "Desperate Wannabe" over each of their heads and deems that enough. I recognized right away that they were set up to be cannon fodder and nothing more. A washed-up actress, a washed-up comedian, a D-list celebrity chef, and a D-list celebrity priest(??), plus the bickering cohosts of a shitty, failing reality show for which none of these people feel anything but unilateral contempt. It's so mean-spirited and loveless. This doesn't even seem like it was fun to write; it certainly was never fun to read.

Second, and even weirder, it treats the 4 contestant characters as an emotional monolith. It's so bizarre; all 4 have the same feelings & beliefs at once, but those beliefs keep changing. They each go on about how they don't believe in ghosts, but next thing you know they're all worried the ghosts might "get" them. All four. They get scared as a unit; they get angry at the producers as a unit; they get suspicious as a unit; they become credulous as a unit. WHY! Why even have 4 characters if they're so interchangeable?

Despite having no personalities and all apparently being the same person, the characters are introduced again and again and again, for some reason. When they all meet at the beginning, it's made very clear in a normal organic way who they all are, what their occupation is, how their career is going (not great), and why they're here (see previous). But then they all talk about those things again. And they make references to their jobs constantly--the comedian & the actress in particular won't shut up about being onstage!!!! They talk openly about how much the show sucks but that they need the money & exposure. Then they all sit in a circle and tell each other why they're there. Then, about a page later, the producer throws their declining careers and their reasons for signing up into their faces and they all act shy & awkward about it like it was dirty laundry nobody knew. You just told them! It's not dirty laundry, it's clean and it's already on the clothesline!! It never lets up. That god damn actress was still saying "I'm an actress, darling" til the very last chapter. Just in case you forgot. You know, the only thing there is to know about this character. Is that she's an actress. Did you forget she's an actress?

Speaking of saying "darling," that's her only other identifiable characteristic. She says "darling" or occasionally "dear" in every line of dialogue. (Again, to remind you that she's an aging actress. In case you forgot.) But lo and behold, 3/4 of the way through the book, another character starts calling everyone "darling" out of the blue. Not as a jab to the actress (remember? She's an actress), she just starts saying it, and not just once either. The first time it happened, I thought I had read it wrong and had to restart the paragraph a couple times just to make sure. But nope, that vocal tic is just contagious I guess because they both keep it through the rest of the book. Cause these characters had sooooo many traits it must have been so hard to keep them all straight. 🙄

The ending was the only part that wasn't absolutely terrible but it was far, far too late to save it. I have nothing but disdain for this book that has nothing but disdain for itself. Pitiful and joyless.

1/10 #WhatsKenyaReading

For more complaints, see Part 2 of this review

[thedavinoparadox]

🏖 August Reading Wrap-Up (Part 1) 📚

Selenio, 13th September 2023

Phew. A lot has happened this past August which may be part of the reason why I’m only typing out this wrap-up almost two weeks in September. Oh well, what can you do. At least I’m writing it at all… I have been quite diligent with my reading however and because of this I have decided to split up this month’s wrap-up into two parts (so as not to create one monstrously long post…).

A Castle in the Clouds (Wolkenschloss) by Kerstin Gier (2017)

In this novel, our protagonist (a young girl who has just decided to give up on her A-levels) works and lives in a beautiful chalet up in the mountains of Switzerland and learns to live with (and love) all the little quirks of the old house and its inhabitants. This could probably be called a “cozy mystery” as it holds both romantic, christmassy feelings and mystery/thriller elements. (To preface this: the days in which I was reading this book were so cold and rainy, they almost felt like autumn… so I feel like I had a point in picking it up.) I was looking for something a little bit shorter and lightweight before our trip to Italy and came across this very aggressively lilac cover on my sister’s bookshelf. It seemed quite amusing and the colour – upon further inspection – quite soothing. And lo and behold, I was actually surprised by how much I was enjoying myself. Sure, parts of the plot felt a little foreseeable and a tiny bit unnatural, since some of the characters were lacking in depth and characterization but I was fond of the slight hints of supernatural elements and the subtle magical undertones. All in all, very much worth the read if you’re in search for a cozy, festive winter romance.

Aquila by Ursula Poznanski (2017)

A young German girl, living in Siena for a gap year, suddenly wakes up one morning, having lost her memory spanning the last couple of days. All she has is list of cryptic clues, the accounts of strangers and the sense that something is completely and utterly wrong. And there she goes… doing it again, completely enrapturing me with her words. My favourite thriller author simply did what she does best: creating a story I simply cannot put down, until I’m able to piece together the plot she has so intricately woven. I think Aquila is one of the rare books you can gift to perfectly anybody and still have them enjoy it a great deal. It’s jam-packed with suspense, mystery, riddles and the tiniest bit of romance and overall feels like a movie or tv-show. Everything is vivid and scenic, yet still fast-paced and gripping without being rushed. Perfect pacing and just what I needed to get me into the mood for my travel to Italy.

The Monstrumologist (Der Monstrumologe und das Drachen-Ei) by Rick Yancey (2015)

This story is not only about a professional monster-scientist making the discovery of his lifetime, but also about his assistant learning the truth about himself and perhaps mankind itself. Nothing about this book was expected. I discovered this thoroughly confusing novel stuffed away in the depths of my bookshelf and since I was still looking for something rather light and short to read before the departure (unfortunately I had already finished the other books…), I decided to pick this up on a whim. The first thing, I was struck with, was the writing style. I had expected something childlike and simple, following a well-structured plot. Oh, how absolutely wrong I had been. However I did like the non-linear plotline a lot, although it did often seem as if I was missing the bigger picture safely assume everyone’s motives. Like I had picked up the second book of a trilogy without noticing. To my shame I have to admit, that I didn’t much care about the storyline but rather stayed for the magnificent writing style, as there were a lot of quotable gems throughout it.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo (1831)

Last month’s first classic read and the story of Quasimodo, the hunchbacked bell ringer of the church of Notre Dame and the events involving his adoptive father Claude Frollo, the young dancer Esmeralda, her little goat Djali, the guard Phoebus and the playwright Pierre Gringoire. This audiobook, narrated by Oliver Rohrbeck was yet another step on the ladder of broadening my literary horizon. After reading the first pages of the book, I decided to switch to audiobook as I realized I would not be able to finish it in time otherwise. I don’t know if it was the speaker’s voice or simply my strong longing for visiting France again, but The Hunchback of Notre Dame was one of those classics which I did not only enjoy on an intellectual, but also on the personal amusement level. The characters were very well fleshed out, the humour impeccable and it was impossible to not get sucked into the dramatic plot. I also enjoyed Hugo’s flowery descriptions of places and scenes and the historical information he gave. There is just one question that remains… who ever decided it was a good idea to make this into a children’s movie?

To Sir Phillip, With Love by Julia Quinn (2003)

This is the love story of the fifth Bridgerton child, Eloise and how her correspondence with the brooding but handsome Sir Phillip Crane leads to a dramatic affair when her brothers find out about the secret arrangement. I know, I know… You don’t have to say it. After now reading the fifth instalment of this cursed book series I am no longer able to say I was forced to consume these novels. They have indeed become a guilty pleasure of mine and it has almost become a ritual to pick them up after my sister has finished them, so we can laugh about the more ridiculous scenes at dinner or on the beach (while also sometimes swooning about the more romantic ones). Perhaps I am but a romantic at heart… This book however felt a little less convincing than the other ones I’ve read so far (not that those had ever been really… close to life). Eloise’s Prince Charming just felt a little emotionless and almost dull, simply looking for a mother to his children (and perhaps a woman to warm his bed) in the beginning. A fact which did feel a little bit misogynistic at times. Still, not a bad beach read at all and laughing about some of the humour was worth the pain of the rather… less enjoyable scenes.

You can expect me to post the second part of my Reading Wrap-Up in the next few days!

[redflagbreakfast]

Journal Entry 1- The Playa Players

“I couldn’t possibly go to Mexico!” I exclaimed dramatically to my friends, who were all planning a getaway from the barren cold landscape of Fargo, North Dakota, to Playa Del Carmen. My company had been demanding all of my time and money, leaving me with barely enough energy to crawl into bed at night, let alone jet off to a tropical paradise. But my friends were a persuasive bunch, and before I knew it, I found myself rummaging through old flight credits from the summer of quarantine. Lo and behold, I had an unused one that was just begging to be put to good use. So, with a mix of excitement and trepidation, I hopped on a flight and made my way down to Cancun.

As I sat on the public bus to Playa, feeling tired but excited, I couldn’t help but wonder what the quick weekend had in store for me. I was going to secretly see Phil tonight for an innocent dinner since my friends had a long day trip planned to Tulum and certainly wouldn’t be back until late.

Of course, as luck would have it, my friends had in fact, canceled their day trip to Tulum and were lounging around the room when I arrived. My secret plans were foiled..I reluctantly had to explain why I couldn’t join them for dinner that night.

I had promised to meet up with my ex-boyfriend, who was currently living in Playa. It had been a while since I’d seen him, and even though I knew it wasn’t good for me (as I sure will be the theme for this journal) I decided to quietly make plans to catch up with him. Melania, loathes that I have kept in contact with him, and since she is the one who convinced me to book the ticket and donate a spare twin bed to me, she couldn’t help but be miffed. I assured her and the others I would be ready to party with them in a few short hours.

I slipped into a cute brown woven dress without a bra – because let’s be real, who needs that kind of restriction?? Now, I may have been running on fumes with no sleep for days, but I wasn’t about to let that stop me from the chance at fun. When in Mexico…right? I touched up my makeup and gave my natural curls a little scrunch to add some extra sass and headed out the door.

And then, there he was. The guy who had tossed me aside like yesterday’s news after I simply asked him to use protection. I mean, seriously, how hard is it to wrap it up? But even though he threw away our relationship like garbage, I couldn’t help but feel a flush when I saw him.

It had been eight long months since I’d gotten any action, and damn, there he was, looking hotter than ever. I know I probably should have been mad at him, but I just couldn’t help myself. Maybe it was his quirky aspergers traits, or maybe it was the cocaine he had for breakfast, but I genuinely feel like he is literally incapable of real human connection, so I had continued to give him the biggest hall pass of the century.

We had dated on and off for over four years, but the relationship had never been exclusive – at least not on his end, but when he gave me his undivided attention, I swear I felt like the queen of the universe.

But let’s talk about the real reason I kept coming back for more: the sex. This man knew how to make my body sing like a freaking symphony. And the size difference between us only added to the excitement. I mean, I’m a petite 5’0″ ball of pure fire and energy, while he’s this massive, calm and collected, hunk of man who could toss me around like a rag doll. And you know what? I loved every second of it.

The moment I wasn’t with him, he would disappear like a phantom, leaving me feeling confused and frustrated. At 52 years old, he had once told me that I was “the first real relationship he ever had”. I had to laugh at that – after all, he had never even met my family, and I had let him fuck other people. But to him, a real relationship simply meant being willing to be seen in public with me in front of friends and coworkers. .

There was something about the way he took control that just drove me wild. Honestly, I’m not sure if it was his attentiveness or our incredible connection in the bedroom (or the balcony, or the sleek kitchen counter ) that had me hooked. All I know is that this guy was like a drug to me, and I couldn’t get enough. So maybe I was the one with the “drug” problem after all…not him.

Despite all odds, he was actually an upgrade from my ex, the king of narcissism. The inspiration behind my decision to embark on this wild social experiment in the first place… At least what I saw with Phil, is what I got. He was refreshingly authentic. No dual lives and lies, empty promises and even emptier wallets.

No matter what, I had promised myself (and Melania) that I would not hook up with him, no matter how much tequila was involved.

Dinner went as expected. Romeo’s is my favorite hole in the wall Italian place in Playa, well, let’s be real, in all of the galaxy. Across from me, Phil chattered on about his latest achievements, from mastering the art of diving to his ever-expanding business empire. As much as I tried to stay focused on our conversation, my mind kept drifting to the past.

As I watched him eat his last bite of truffle ravioli, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at how seemingly awesome his life was despite how much he had hurt me. Aside from his philandering ways, his life seemed so damn perfect. But then again, when you’ve quadrupled your net worth in three years, it’s easy to see why the world is your oyster.

I’ve seen the new younger and hotter blondes that he’s been screwing. I’d done just an innocent amount of rabbit hole internet sleuthing over the last 9 months since we had broken up…as had some of my friends.. He was now trolling for women barely out of college, enticing them with simply the promise of 2 day long blow and liquor fueled trips to his time-share in Puerto Vallarta.

I used to think our 15-year age gap was significant, but it paled in comparison to the 30-year chasm he was now bridging with his arrangement site conquests. I realized that money truly could buy happiness, or at least a never-ending supply of willing young bimbos. The age gap works just fine when you’re 6’4” with a bio that blatantly parades your net worth is over ten million dollars.

The pandemic had been an absolute nightmare for me. My life had been crushed in every possible way, from becoming a homeschool kindergarten teacher overnight to my 5 year old son, to literally being terminated from my own company that I had started from the ground up, and getting quite literally ghosted by the new guy I thought would change my word. But then there was Phil, the lucky bastard who managed to thrive despite everything. He had even sold three bars in October 2019, right before the world came crashing down on the industry due to Covid. It was like he had a crystal ball or something. He had invested the money wisely and had exploded his net worth in the process.

“I own over 200 doors now,” he boasted, his muscular chest puffed up with pride.

While I was struggling to pay rent on my one measly apartment, Phil was buying up real estate left and right in Detroit like it was Monopoly money. His life looked so easy, and it made me queasy.

I had given this man everything, my heart and soul included. And what did he do? He threw it all away because I dared to ask for safe sex in our open relationship. Ethically non-monogamous my ass.

I swore to myself that I would never let him touch me again, no matter how desperate I was. It had been 9 long months since we had broken up, and I could last nine more if it meant I wouldn’t have to worry about some Mexican hybrid STD he’d picked up since he’d been here.. La Cucaracha in my crotcha? No gracias.

As we finished our delicious meal with a slice of heavenly berry cheesecake, Phil grabbed the bill. It was one thing he had always done, take care of me. I had been on a few dates since the breakup, but none of the men on the Bumble roster could hold a candle to Phil. Half of them didn’t even offer to pay for the damn meal. No wonder I was still single.

[idontknowmyownmind]

Surely there were, are, higher ranked demons in the previous demon king era. Imagine Mammon befriend and stole their heart without knowing because he is indifferent and zone out toward lesson in class. They baby and dote on Mammon because in term of being a demon he is just a baby for them. And Mammom being the ignorant fool he is just accept their treatment since our greedy demon long for a loving care from family :(

.

.

.

One more!! Damn, once I think about Mammon look how much ideas I got 😂

Mammon has a group of friend consist of seven people in total, including him. Four boys (excluding Mammon) and 2 girls.

(He) Azazel, a flirt but only toward people he close to and know personaly. He like to openly flirt with Mammon who has the best reaction and often flirt back.

(He) Crowley, an affectionist especially physical. Like to drap over Mammon and clingy to him.

(He) Balam, a soft spoken demon. He and Mammon like to exchange endearing nickname. Mammon like to call him love while he like to call Mammon sunshine.

(She) Iblis, is Mammon partner in crime. They get along like a house on fire. Giving each other silly nickname.

(He) Megalesius, cold on the outside but caring and overprotectibe inside. He openly care and adore those he love but seems cold and uncaring for outsider view.

(She) Paimon, the mother hen of the group. Like to dote as much as scolding Mammon. Mammon think of him as older sister.

Same idea different context with girl!Mammon.

Diavolo has a silly idea (stupid for some) for the next student council meeting. They can have their phone but everytime come a call or messege they need to put on speaker or read it out loud. They reluctantly agree because what could be wrong? The only possible one who will got a call are likely Lucifer or Diavolo. To their suprise, it's Mammon but they don't think much thinking it's about her debt. Lo and behold it's a group call from her friend!!

Let's note that the way they treat girl!Mammon is still the same like they treat boy!Mammon but more mellowed?

Azazel: hey darling. You busy?

Crowley: Mammon~ I miss you.

Iblis: heyyo firecracker, wassup!

Paimon: good afternoon Mammon.

Megalesius: Mammon.

Balam: hello sunshine.

Mammon: *laugh* heyya guys. What the gist?

They talk for sometimes. The end of their conversation end up like this,

Mammon: ah, love, can you bring me the book you show me before in our next hang out?

Balam: considering it done, sunshine.

Azazel: aw~ babe. When will you call me love too?

Mammon: *roll her eyes* when the pigs fly.

Azazel: *gasp* how cruel!

Iblis: leave her alone you weirdo. See you Sweetcheeks, love you.

Paimon: I love you Mammon, bye.

Megalesius: hmm, love you Mammon.

Crowler: lots of loves from me Sweatheart, bye~

Balam: always love you Sunshine.

Azazel: remember that I love you more than them, darling. Bye-bye

Mammon: *hufhing* bye, love you too.

Should I make certains idividuals jealous and certains brothers become overprotective toward our lovely demoness and throwing a tantrum?

[ahtsumu]

vignettes from a simple and good life ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: a year in review.

tag(s): fluff ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, kinda bad but i tried LOL ; wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy birthday to @bbytetsu​ ​! ik i said i wouldn’t write anything but i’m a woman of my own word. also sorry this isn’t geto LOL. anyway this is kinda different from anything i’ve ever done but i hope you like it! love u

1.

he walks past you and suddenly the world’s aflame.

“um,” you stutter, turning around with wide eyes. “excuse me?”

cool grey irises hold your gaze expectantly.

he’s gorgeous.

“i–” you falter. there’s no way you can describe the feeling that made you turn around. the gravitational pull that sometimes occurs between strangers. perhaps the clever tugging of two red strings. separate melodies that converge at whim on a concord. it’s all so abstract, but that’s what you’re good at.

to your surprise, he just smiles. “same.”

2.

learning miya osamu is like learning to whistle: either you get it or you don’t.

you get it.

you get that he’s not at all the serious, stony-faced man he makes himself out as. that he’s hot-headed and petty but doesn’t want to be. that just because he’s not laughing doesn’t mean he’s not amused.

miya osamu is the dead of night and all the mischief that happens during it.

3.

seven a.m. is too early. osamu isn’t sure how he used to get up even earlier for morning practice, but then he remembers that that was when he loved volleyball. either way, it’s seven a.m. and for some god-forsaken reason, miya osamu is going on a hike.

(god-forsaken is a bit dramatic. it’s not all that bad – he’s just grumpy in the morning. actually, to think of it, it’s not bad at all…)

“one cappuccino," he tells the barista. and then his eyes widen. smiling, he adds, “and a matcha latte, please.”

4.

it dawns upon you in the passenger seat of his car.

“what?” he asks, feeling your eyes on him as he drives.

“… nothing.”

“tell me,” he laughs, squeezing your hand with his free one.

“later,” you promise, feeling giddy with realization.

osamu hums, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

5.

the light from his laptop illuminates osamu’s darkened bedroom, bathing both of you in a subtle blue glow. osamu looks down at your body tucked into his side and smiles. he whispers your name. “are you awake?”

there’s no reply – just the steady stream of your shallow breaths.

maybe you hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the middle of your movie night but now that you have, osamu doesn’t have the heart to wake you. it’s late, it’s still a little cold outside at night, and it’s not like you’re busy tomorrow morning…

and maybe he doesn’t want you to go. carefully, osamu shifts around to make you both comfortable, slings an arm over your waist, and closes his eyes.

you wake up to the smell of breakfast and the swingy tune of twenties jazz.

6.

how do you know it’s love?

you tell him that he feels like a soft blanket and a rollercoaster ride at the same time.

he laughs and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest right where his heart is.

“that’s how i know,” he says.

7.

when you step into his apartment, the first thing you notice is the mouthwatering scent floating out of the kitchen.

“babe?” you call out.

a muffled “kitchen!” reaches your ears.

the kitchen’s a mess of ingredients. and in the middle of the mess is your boyfriend. lo and behold, miya osamu is yet again experimenting with new recipes for onigiri miya, mixing potential fillings in a large metal bowl, wearing the “kiss the chef” apron you bought him a while back. he takes a bite of the stuff on his spoon and looks up at the ceiling in thought. not a single muscle in his face twitches, probably because he isn’t sure what to think of it.

you clear your throat. “hey, you.”

smiling, osamu spins around. “hi, angel. can you taste this and tell me whatcha think?” he spoons out some more of the mixture in the bowl, holding it out for you to try.

“sure,” you say, and you ignore the spoon, pressing your lips to osamu’s for a kiss instead. when you pull away, you lick your lips and hum. “needs more salt.”

the grin on his face is absolutely charmed. “i thought so, too.”

8.

what most people get wrong about miya osamu is that he doesn’t talk much.

he does.

(“and i told her she had the wrong place, but that woman just wouldn’t leave,” he complains, pacing around your living room with so much force that you think you might have to check on the rug once he’s gone. “held up the entire line, too. so embarrassin’. and then she said she’d leave us a one-star review, which is ridiculous because it’s not like i could make her a burrito, right? jesus. so i told her to go fu–”

“babe,” you laugh, pulling him gently towards the sofa.

osamu sits down beside you and inhales deeply. “so i tell her to go fuck herself–” he pauses when your hand runs through his jet black hair. seconds later, you feel his firm body melt against your arms.

“well, go on,” you say with a giggle. “what happened after?”)

osamu just doesn’t talk to most people.

9.

and when he isn’t talking, he’s thinking.

“i saw something funny earlier. if you were a tortured poet,” you ask on the walk home, “what would be the cringey quote people know you for?”

osamu raises his brows and looks up at the sky. “hmm,” he says, grinning. the two of you continue walking as he mulls over your question. a few minutes later, he says, “take not my silence for a lack of thought. i am always thinking. i am haunted by the magnitude of thoughts i can never put to spoken word.”

you stop in your tracks. “that was actually good,” you say in disbelief. “what the hell? ‘magnitude’? seriously?”

he shrugs and slings an arm over your shoulder. “i’ve been readin’ lately. forbes said somethin’ about good leaders readin’ books’.”

“are you actually haunted, though? ‘cause you can always tal–”

“no,” osamu laughs. “i like my thoughts. and if i really like ‘em, i just say ‘em. it’s a simple and good life.”

10.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, pressing kisses up your neck.

the air’s thick with tension and want and he needs to be closer – he needs every inch of your bare skin touching his and even then that wouldn’t be close enough.

but it’d be a great place to start.

“god, you’re so beautiful.”

11.

when he steps into your bedroom, you don't even notice.

“hey,” osamu says, knocking on the door.

jumping in your seat, you whip your head around to face the intruder. “you scared me,” you sigh.

“i texted you this morning and it’s almost midnight now,” he says, frowning. “had me worried.” osamu walks to your desk and observes your work over your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head back against his chest. “this is due soon and i lost track of time. i’ve been at this since midnight last night.”

osamu’s frown deepens. “what?” he spins you around in your chair and studies your face with disbelief. but seeing the bags under your eyes and frazzled hair, he suddenly completely believes you. of course you’d procrastinate for days and then work yourself to the bone.

his firm hands find your shoulders and squeeze. “take a break.”

“‘samu–”

“or at least let me give you a little massage.”

12.

“when i stopped you in the street,” you say, “what was going through your mind?”

osamu laughs, the light sound melting into the mellow atmosphere of the restaurant. “nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“how romantic.”

“for the first time in my life,” he says, grey eyes twinkling, “my head went silent.”

he raises his glass of wine and takes a sip.

[smallblip]

You asked, I deliver! Part II of Accidental baby acquisition💖 I lost one of the asks 😩 but anon who asked about baby Udo, I named the baby in your honour! Saddle up cowboys! I’m not good with sequels but here we are-

Babygate:

the scandal that implies that a certain boy band member cheated on his partner (another band member) and had a kid even when the mom was never pregnant.

- urban dictionary

—

Reiner thinks things are alright. Life is definitely picking up. Pieck still sends him excerpts of her dirty fanfiction to proofread, Bertholdt is still doing all he can to “retire at 30”, Annie might have eloped with said boyfriend. But he’s seeing Porco on the regular now, he’s really cute, he’s got a nice ass. Reiner can’t complain.

He’s also recently donated his Levi Ackerman standee. Only because it’s getting increasingly hard to reconcile the fact that he has a life sized cutout of his colleague’s boyfriend in his room.

What he can complain about is said colleague (and friend) dropping bombs on him. He’s one of the moderators of one of the bigger No Name servers. Sometimes he wonders if that’s a conflict of interest because, well, he knows the guy on a first name basis. But today he has other concerns. He sees his notifications blowing up and decides to go on the No Name server. And lo and behold. There’s a paparazzi shot of Levi and Hanji with a stroller taking a walk in a new channel called “MYSTERY FAMILY?”.

He cancels his plans with Porco. “Don’t text me for the next few hours, got a fire to fight.” He clicks send, and feels kinda bad, so he sends Porco really dank meme to appease him. (That doesn’t stop Porco from doing exactly what Reiner told him not to do and demanding an explanation every five minutes).

He forces himself to take a deep breath before texting Hanji-

“Hanji… I don’t mean to be rude but…

WHAT THE FUCK?”

—

So here begins babygate. A conspiracy theory that took the Internet by storm.

“Levi Ackerman had a secret marriage! He was keeping this from us from the start!”

“It’s a publicity stunt to keep No Name relevant during their hiatus!”

“It’s an elaborate scheme by the company to punish Levi for announcing the hiatus without their knowledge!”

“Levi’s mystery partner was sent by the lizard people to take control of his mind and produce half-lizard, half-human hybrid babies to take over the world! What a bitch!” (This is Hanji’s favourite).

And the internet’s favourite- this is all an elaborate scheme to cover up the scandalous love affair between Levi and Eren- the band’s guitarist.

“What the fuck?” Levi had said during dinner once, to which Reiner had to swallow his food and pretend he never read or actively looked up ereri content. Yes. Reiner knows the name of their ship.

Levi hadn’t been too worried before, but when pictures of them shopping for baby stuff leaked online, something snaps. Something snaps and Erwin tells him he needs more time to figure out the biggest PR crisis in No Name history.

It’s Levi. Levi is the PR crisis.

So in the meantime, no shock reveals, no more social media, (if possible) no more leaving the house with pregnant girlfriend in tow. “Don’t do ANYTHING.” Erwin had said, “especially not you!” Erwin had directed that at Eren, who suggested he makes an announcement. Erwin shudders. He remembers all the past scandals they got themselves into just because Eren, bless him, didn’t know when to shut up.

“I’m sorry…” Levi says to Hanji when they’re cuddled up on the couch watching a documentary on whale migration.

“Huh?” Hanji says, voice muffled through her incessant sniffling because “whales are delivered tail first, Levi! They wear their mothers like hats!”

He apologises for putting her through the mess that is him and his job. And Hanji smiles at him. He wonders if their kid will look like her. He’s hoping they would.

“Levi…” Hanji sighs, taking his face in her hands, “that night at the bar I thought to myself ‘this man has a face I would risk it all for’… I think this counts within the realms of ‘all’”

Levi scoffs, but a smile is threatening the corners of his lips. Erwin’s nagging over the phone fades a little and he sinks a little lower into the couch. He sighs one more time for good measure before saying-

“So… you wanna know which my favourite babygate theory is?”

—

“And you’re really not bothered by all this?” Reiner asks, in an emergency meeting that he had scheduled into her calendar. He hates that he’s packing things into her already busy schedule when she’s about to pop but, he figures it’s better now than when the baby’s actually out. He had booked a meeting room and everything, figuring if he projected some of the crazy shit they’re saying on the fan boards up on screen, Hanji would start taking this seriously. Because if Reiner knows anything, it’s that the fans will do anything to keep their ship afloat.

He scrolls past another post on the lizard people and Hanji gets him to pause.

“I mean… A little?” Hanji pinches her fingers together.

“Hanji…” Reiner sighs, “you and Levi discuss and rate babygate conspiracy theories you find online I don’t think you’re taking this seriously at all…”

Hanji looks at Reiner- an absolute state of panic. And she considers panicking for a moment. She’s read articles dissecting babygate and although they’re absolutely batshit, Hanji appreciates how well-researched they are. Which is a little scary. To be fair to Levi, he’s been trying to get her to worry. “I can’t keep you safe all the time, you have to be careful” like he’s going off to war somewhere. But it’s not in Hanji nature to worry about things like this. She’s a researcher at a lab who lived an ordinary life up until the point the universe hit her with a-

Sike! Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy! What are you gonna do about it?

And now she knows what headcanons and lemons are, and she really doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge. So Hanji decides, she’ll do nothing. She’ll go on indulgently long walks Levi in tow, she’ll talk his ear off about work. And like a good girlfriend, she’ll listen to his demos (and enjoy them) and tell him “are you sure anger rhymes with danger?”.

“I don’t really know how to worry about anything beyond our samples getting contaminated…” Hanji says, sheepish. Reiner sighs. He doesn’t want to be a wet blanket on Hanji’s life. He wants to be fun Reiner. Cool as a cucumber. Reiner who manages to make it through dinner at Hanji’s without having to excuse himself to hyperventilate in her bathroom because Levi is right there. And he’s so afraid that he might just be able to read his mind and find out he had looked up Levi Ackerman x y/n fanfiction once in his foolish youth (youth being approximately four months back)

Reiner shudders.

��Yeah okay… That’s um… That’s cool… Right?” He says.

Hanji shrugs.

—

So Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy. Now what?

You go into labour of course, with a matter of fact- “oh. Look Levi. The water broke.” All while refusing to leave the house until you demolish that amazing sandwich he made for you. You go into labour and you yell and grunt like a beast as you squeeze the life out of your baby daddy because he kinda deserves it. You both kinda deserve this pain. Take it as heavenly punishment for being horny and stupid if you will.

And in the middle of it Hanji thinks huh, this feels like a mix of a reality TV show from MTV and a badly written fanfiction. Except Hanji isn’t a teen mom and she’s too old for self-insert fiction that involves a lead singer of a popular band.

But Levi is here, and he doesn’t complain one bit even though he looks like he’s about to pass out. So as far as drunken one night stands go- this is pretty damn aspirational.

The baby enters the world with a huge cry.

“Kid’s got a huge set of lungs…” Levi says, but his own voice is quivering.

“Just like her dad…” Hanji smiles.

As he watches Hanji fall asleep with their baby on her chest, Levi thinks fuck it. Fuck keeping this under wraps. Fuck the fans and them enjoying how Eren gets on his nerves. Fuck Erwin and his “Levi. You’re giving me a headache. You are the cause of this headache.” Because the baby has Hanji’s nose and his eyes and he loves them more than anything in the world.

He snaps a picture of them and tags bigdaddyzoë-

“Welcome to the world, my love.”

—

Reiner can’t help the tears that well in his eyes after seeing the picture Hanji had sent him of the baby-

“He says hi to his favourite uncle!” Was the caption, and Reiner could only reply with a crying cat meme and an incoherent text that Hanji favourites.

He’s on the bus on the way to the hospital when his phone buzzes incessantly. It’s Porco.

“REINER WHAT THE FUCK.”

“LEVI ACKERMAN IS HANJI ZO��’S BABY DADDY?”

“HANJI ZOË MY PHD SUPERVISOR?”

“LEVI ACKERMAN OF NO NAME?”

“REINER WHAT THE FUCK?”

He sends a reply at the entrance of the hospital-

“Welcome to my world”

—

Reiner thinks things are alright. He’s one of the moderator of one of the bigger No Name servers, so he can block and remove people at his discretion. Some days he lets it get to his head. It makes him feel like a king. But today, he’s putting out fires.

Erwin decided their PR strategy was absolutely no strategy, because “they’re zooming in on the pixels Levi. Once they doubt the pixels, they won’t believe anything we’re saying”. With that. Babygate has officially taken on a life of its own. Eren still sends Levi babygate articles to annoy him, and to Hanji because she asked very nicely. Hanji thinks Erwin’s strategy makes sense, Levi thinks it’s just lazy. But Erwin framed a certificate that says “survived a PR crisis (sort of)” that Hanji had insisted be hung up on their wall, so that closes one chapter. Besides, Eren has been spotted going out on dates with a mystery girl. Which has the double effect of diverting attention away from Levi and exacerbating babygate because “see? Told you the company’s doing all they can to prove they’re not together!”

“Can’t you keep it in your pants?” Levi had thrown at Eren, to which he had responded cleverly with a-

“Could’ve said the same for you!”

Touché…

“See? That can’t be Levi! Look at how he’s smiling!”

“That can’t be a baby! Looks like an animatronic to me!”

“Do they even make animatronics that realistic?”

Reiner pins his “no slander” rule- one day they’ll get it. Or at least he would’ve gotten rid of all the people that don’t.

“Who’s this bigdaddyzoë anyway?”

“Maybe she isn’t real? Company probably invented her…”

“Heard she’s a crazy groupie who got knocked up…”

“Heard she’s hot…”

… several people are typing

—

“So… I heard from Reiner you were defending my honour in the server?” Hanji quirks an eyebrow.

Levi shrugs. Whatever goes down in the server stays between Leviackerman173810 (leviackerman and all 173809 permutations of said username had already been taken) and the hundreds of people who haven’t quite figured out he’s the real deal. Besides, Erwin has issued him three warnings so it’s best to lay low for now.

“My hero…” Hanji chuckles, pressing a kiss on Levi’s head. Below them, baby Udo wriggles and yawns against the fabric of Levi’s shirt. Cute.

So Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy. Now what? You look at your son and know he’s going to break hearts like his father of course. And if you’re Levi, you pray to god he never asks about babygate because Hanji has read up enough about it to be considered a connoisseur.

One day the internet will break when they find out the identity of bigdaddyzöe. But for now baby Udo has his parents wrapped around his tiny fingers and he doesn’t quite understand the concept of him being the spawn of every typical band member x y/n fanfiction. Or the centre of a very popular, very absurd, yet strangely believable internet conspiracy theory. Or the canon plot that has sunk one of the biggest No Name ships. And that’s okay.