#now making your child a thief might not be seen as a good thing but this is an anime and theyre both outlaws anyway. they dont have the sam

[kakapim]

Playing devils advocate here.

I still think that Toichi being alive is ... a not very good idea, but... now that the shock has passed and I'm chill about it now, and have been rereading stuff... there Might Be Something Here.

My favorite theory about Toichi that saves his ass from being a completely shitty father is that the assassination attempt did not kill him, but DID leave him disabled somehow. Kinda of what happened to Kudo, except he wasn't shrunk.

That would explain:

1- Why he had to disappear for 8 years. I don't think Chikage could explain to a child that his father "had an attempt on his life and is now hiding" that would be hard to explain, and kids aren't the best at secret keeping.

2- Why Toichi left stuff behind for Kaito. Since he cannot perform magic tricks and parkour anymore, he let Kaito decide if he wanted to carry the mantle of being KID.

3-Why he still hasn't showed up. Remember that Kaito Corbeau was Chikage dressed as him, and in movie 27 is flashback from Yuusaku (as I've heard, I have not watched the movie). And he was dressed as Corbeau, so I guess we don't fully know how he's doing modern-day. Him being in Japan would be too much of a liability.

This stuff also explains why Kaitos room was timed. His door was going specifically open after 8 years, being 17, which is old enough to know the truth and not spill.

Interestingly enough, it seems this decision of making Kaito the Kid was not something Toichi and Chikage agreed on, judging by the fact she asked Kaito to stop being KID and move to Vegas (and the whole Corbeau fiasco) and seemed somewhat upset in the first manga chapter when she realizes Kaito had found out the secret room.

But despite all of this, it doesn't explain why Toichi couldn't have simply just... called him? Like once the door hit the timer, he could've just called the boy. Tell him "Hey son I am alive although not well. Yes, I was the thief KID. I dont know what you will do with this info but have fun I guess". Cmon. Unless the disability in question was amnesia or something.

The only thing that breaks this theory is the fact that apparently Corbeau has been making the rounds in Las Vegas... but as I said before, Chikage asked Kaito to come with her and get there. Which is curious... does she want Kaito to meet the real Corbeau? To know something that's been a secret? Def something to ponder about.

So yeah... Gosho might have burned the rice but he might be able to clutch this. What I'm saying is, while hating on Toichi is funny, perhaps we should be a little more patient to see what happens.

[arieswritez]

golden boy

golden boy | yandere stepbrother!mark grayson x afab!reader

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!! pseudo-incest, panty thief!mark, roofies, victim blaming, non-con video taping, voyeurism, rape, reader's anatomy is sexualized, forced breeding, time skip (mark is an adult & nolan never killed the guardians), mark is a sicko you've been warned

about; life was easier when mark was an only child. he wishes it would've stayed that way. (1.9k words)

a/n; an anon asked about a platonic yan sibling duo so i raise you: big pervy step bro who hates your guts but also wants to rearrange them

step brother mark who's used to being the light and joy of the grayson home. as the only child, he's spoiled beyond belief. he's spunky and cute and the graysons love him to death, constantly showering him with love and adoration.

step brother mark who gets a new sibling after villains make you an orphan. nolan finds you in the ruins and it's like he's on auto-pilot: carrying you to that secret hospital and handing you off to the doctors that rush to his aid. . but not before your tiny fist closes in his suit.

as he watches you being taken away, barely alive, something inside his chest pangs.

debbie notices nolan acting strange. he's restless and he's late for dinner, more so than usual. something's very clearly wrong. and it's not like her to grow suspicious of nolan but she does.

nolan's never given her a reason to believe his head may have been turned but for some reason, she starts to believe there might be someone else.

only to find he's been visiting you at the hospital, staying at your bedside for hours on end as you recover. you're in bad shape. doctors aren't sure how you survived. . if you even will. debbie's never seen nolan so torn over a survivor before. he's seen many things: deaths, disasters, you name it. yet, you're who's causing the sleepless nights.

of course, debbie has a kind heart and, soon, it's not just nolan who's worried. the graysons keep tabs on you. and when you come to, they’re the first thing you see.

you look confused, scared, but as nolan soothes you, you offer a meek smile and nolan finds himself feeling that same giddiness he felt when he first saw a tiny mark cradled in debbie's arms.

the graysons become your legal guardians and, suddenly, mark isn't the golden boy anymore.

you take up so much of their attention. now, christmases and birthdays all revolve around you. suddenly, marks good grades and the fact he hit a home run isn't all that impressive. mark's late for his baseball practice and games more times than he can count. . yet they never miss your dance recitals.

you got an A in an absurdly easy class and that was a cause for celebration. in the meantime, mark won a spelling bee & all he got was a 'good job'.

they treat you like you're made of glass, like you'll shatter into a million tiny pieces the second someone so much as looks at you the wrong way. mark still remembers being reprimanded whenever he said the smallest things to you. he doesn't think he's ever lived down that one orphanage joke that made you bawl. god, he was just kidding. . its not his fault you're sensitive.

soon, you're calling his parents 'mom and dad'. and worse of all, they reiterate the fact that you should be calling mark your 'big brother'.

fucking fantastic.

you are everything to them while mark is pushed aside. and it only worsens the older the two of you get. mark gets his powers - there's literally nothing more impressive than that - yet he still has to do a million and one things in order to outshine you. nothing ever works. and despite the fact that mark is - quite literally - saving lives. . your stupid birthday is still more important.

you are the light of their lives and mark bitterly remembers when they used to look at him that way, too.

you are perfect in their eyes. just like he once was.

and mark wishes you would've died in that accident, just like your parent(s).

as you start to develop a sense of self, mark gets into the habit of stealing your clothes. it's the only thing you seem to care about: the way you present yourself to the world.

they're small things at first. like a single shoe when his parents had bought you new ones yet refused to get him the ones he wanted. he'll admit it, it was petty and spiteful. but you were distressed and the graysons seemed upset you'd already misplaced your brand new - expensive - shoes.

at first, he was content with telling himself that what he was doing was solely to spite you. but that was a lie. when his kleptomania made him steal one of your shirts. . it wasn't spite that made him press the material to his nose and pump his cock until he came. no, it wasn't just spite.

all your simpering and whining, following him around like some lost puppy, that one time you asked him why he hated you so much. . it made him feel more than just hate.

he didn't know what to do with you then.

so, at first, he settled with stealing your clothes.

a couple more shirts.

a pair of shorts.

knee-highs or your favorite tights.

and finally, a pair of panties.

his favorite are a lacy pair. sheer and tiny, he recalls lifting them out of your drawer with a finger. . and thinking, seriously? what're these even meant to cover?

he's extremely sure you aren't supposed to have these~

mark is content with secretly stealing your things. he doesn't get in trouble for being mean to you anymore.

you don't think he hates you.

it's a win-win situation, really.

and mark would've been happy - he would've been fine - with the little game he's been playing. soon, the two of you would part ways for college and he'd forget all about you.

he'd forget the way you'd foolishly walk to your room in only a towel when you knew the two of you were home alone.

he'd forget the way you looked when you changed out of clothing, you never truly believed in fully closing the door, did you?

he'd forget the way your moans sounded, when you touched yourself at night, thinking everyone else was asleep. he'd forget the way he'd concentrate on hearing your pretty sounds - and it's not like he'd have to try hard, another perk of having powers.

he'd forget about how he could almost envision you: humping your fingers and biting at your lip, desperately trying to get yourself off. it was like he was in the room with you. . you were so wet he could hear the wet clicks of your cunt.

he'd forget all about you.

you, you, you.

he was sure of it.

but if it's one thing about you is that you could never just let things be.

you could never just let the graysons be a normal, happy family.

and you could never just let mark forget about you.

because the first time his parents say no to you - the very first fucking time - you don't listen.

you're just not used to it.

that stupid party you weren't supposed to go to.

that stupid party mark sneaks off to, too.

and when you see him there, you're surprised.

he pretends to be, too.

because it's not fair if only one of you was forbidden to go. no, you had to fuck it up for the both of them.

it's a good thing you're so spoiled, though. and it's even better that mark eavesdropped on the conversation you had with your friend, the one in which you planned to sneak out.

you're so fucking naive. so stupid.

you think the two of you are finally getting along when he gets you a drink and whispers, don't worry, i won't tell if you don't. and you laugh and wink at him like you'll keep his secret, drinking from whatever concoction he's prepared for you.

you were too young when your parent(s) passed and the graysons never seemed to sit you down for the talk. . or maybe they did and you were just too stupid to understand why you should never accept an open drink.

it's easy to blame it on you being a lightweight. the way you sway and slur your words, the way you stumble into him, the way your body overheats.

you've had too much to drink. you're not used to it, is all. he'll take care of you, don't you worry, big brother always does.

first, he's got to lay you down, you poor thing.

he doesn't want you to hurt your pretty little head by falling!

so, he lays you down in the empty room of the house as the party continues downstairs. as you fall to the bed in a heap, you swear you can see the throbbing beat of the music, now muffled behind the closed door.

in the dark room, the moonlight leaking through the pale blue blinds look like drunken undulations, wavering like heat shimmers, yet you can't keep your eyes open long enough to ogle at them. your body doesn't feel like your own, but you're not as nervous as you should be.

mark yanks his shirt off over his head - practiced, ready - and stalks over to your semi-limp body that's nearly hanging off the bed.

it's not hard to undress you, considering you're dressed like some cheap slut. and, honestly, if it wasn't mark that night, he's sure it would've been another dude at the party. the way you're such a fucking tease, he doesn't think anyone would be able to keep their hands off of you for long.

so, really, it's only fair your older brother is the one to get his hands on the goods, first. afterall, he was there to watch them grow.

the little camcorder he took from his parents - the old silver one they used to record all their trips around the world, mark's first steps, your first birthday with them - blinks red, on and off, on and off, as he strips you. he makes sure to capture your body: your bare tits as your chest rises and falls with each panicked breath, the smooth skin of your tummy, then down, between your legs, as he records your sopping cunt taking his fingers.

you mewl and your vision's swimming. and you feel here, there, everywhere, and it's so, so confusing.

you don't know what's happening and it's distressing because you know something is.

your hands weakly try to push at the foreign body on top of you. . inside of you. . but mark is stronger than anyone will ever be and you are far too drugged to do anything about it.

they're gonna be so mad, mark thinks, as he slides into you and tries to keep the camera recording the way your cunt grips him as he feeds his cock inside of you.

they'll be so mad when they find out you've snuck out.

and maybe you'll tell them. . you think something happened. . someone did something to you. . when you try to wash his cum out of your pussy.

maybe you won't. maybe you shouldn't. they'll already be mad at you, best keep quiet about it~

but the graysons will feel even worse in the next few months. . when you start puking your guts out.

and like the perfect parents they are, they'll take you to a doctor. . only for the results to come back positive.

mark may not be a golden boy, anymore.

but in nine months, maybe you'll give him one, instead 💗

[justicefanged]

Professor Linus Reed. That's what the placard on the desk says, same as the name on the faculty roster. It's just hard to connect 'Professor' to the Linus Reed that Legault is familiar with. The one who's been missing for years—or presumed dead, depending on how much hope managed to flare to life in Legault's heart from day to day. It beats anxiously now, as he rifles through the contents of this mystery professor's desk for any sign that could connect it to the man he once knew. He's not sure what he's looking for—but he hardly has time to find it. Heavy footsteps come down the hall at a pace far too quick for Legault to make a swift exit out the window. With a curse under his breath and a swift excuse about getting lost on the way to the archbishop's chapel forming on his tongue, he prepares himself to face whomever it is who has claim to this room. And when the door opens, he faces Linus Fucking Reed. For a second, he's speechless. Wide eyes simply take in the broad, fearsome man in front of him. Years might've changed some things about them both, but the Reeds aren't a forgettable sort. "Pardon the intrusion," Part of Legault's pre-planned excuse comes forth, practically unbidden. He adjusts the rest, mouth twisting into a smile. "When I heard there was a Linus Reed teaching up here, I thought I'd see who was out here using an old friend's name. Never thought they'd hire a Mad Dog to run a classroom."

Linus is absolutely sure he's at the right room this time, and yet Saints' fucking dangly balls, there's someone already fucking in it! Maybe it's on account of the ass lighting at this time of day, or the fact that someone is clearly in his space and going through his shit -- or maybe it's that the sticky-pawed, sneak thief bastard was talking at him like they knew each other, real and code names alike.

Whatever it is, Linus doesn't waste any further time trying to place the guy; he puts on the heat suddenly and bull rushes the fucker.

He crashes into the slighter body full force, pinning arms against the intruder's sides with a crushing bear hug as they unceremoniously clamor to the floor. Through the still open door, Honk -- still growing into his paws and ears -- barrels on through at the sound of roughhousing, barking and trying to shove his big snout into the thick of things, tail pinwheeling in his excitement.

"Ya picked the wrong fuckin' asshole to try an' steal from, I ain't got nothin'--"

Linus goes horribly still, finally getting a good look at the intruder's face. He lets go as if he'd been burned, mouth working but nothing coherent coming out, before he's leaning in again and keeping the man's head from moving with a too tight grip of his hand on the guy's jaw.

Brown eyes stare into steely gray, and there's a shudder of breath through gritted teeth.

No gold.

He lets Legault go, forehead knocking against the other's chest for a moment in what might have passed as relief before he sits back on his haunches, bringing his weight fully off of the other man.

"...The fuck's this then, huh?" he mutters out, quieter than he'd been in years. He's not sure if he wants to crush the man before him in a hug or punch the daylights out of him. "Thought you'd already seen your way out of the Fang a while back, why ya give a shit now that it's in pieces?"

Linus isn't looking at him, has pulled Honk away from nosing curiously at the new person, rough fingers messing with dopey ears as the dog tries to lick at his hand. It feels stupid and petulant, like a child having a hissy fit, but he thinks he's doing Legault a solid by not beating the snot out of him right here and now.

He snorts, recalling the last thing the other had managed to get out before he'd been brought to the floor.

"Wasn't my idea, you should know better 'an that. Signed up for the wrong fuckin' gig."

[gabessquishytum]

that person with the ABO true mates thing has the right idea tbh. on a similar note, imagine instead dream is the 3rd child of some important medieval noble family. he's resigned to live a life of boring diplomacy and living in his father's shadow and probably being married off for some political alliance (he is the 2nd son but he's also the 3rd child and imo death is generally a lot more well prepared for anything he might have thrown his way as the "spare" but we already knew that)

but one day dream and some of his family are in the town square, perhaps returning from a long journey. they maybe were off trying to negotiate a deal for dream's hand in marriage, but dream was so miserable about it that the talks were useless and everyones coming home upset. theres a lot of people around and its generally very busy, so it isn't very surprising that dream brushes shoulders with some stranger, but before he gets the chance to tell him off for it since he is still a bratty little prince, he gets thrown into a full blown heat. like, falls to the ground, clawing to get his clothes off because theyre too much, panting because he cant catch his breath type. (i personally am a huge sucker for bottom dream regardless of whether he doms or not, but after seeing an ask about househusband/alpha!hob i really cant get the idea of dom bottom omega dream and service top submissive alpha hob out of my head)

anyway, he gets back home just fine to wait out his heat, and as soon as he's done he's hell bent on finding whoever it was that sent him into that. night would probably want him to go find whoever it was (thinking of night in overture making a whole pocket dimension for dream and a lover), but maybe time would want to still get a political alliance out of this. he ends up doing some cinderella type thing to find hob back and he's so in love he conveniently ignores that hob is a mercenary/thief/sword for hire/bounty hunter/whatever and has probably most definitely also stolen from dreams family before. besides, who cares about a little bit of money when you can order your new alpha mate to fuck you halfway to hell and back? all im gonna say is they have NOTHING to worry about when it comes to heirs

-🖋

I see submissive alpha hob? I go feral. Literally this whole thing is GOLD.

I’m imagining after his heat, Dream uses his status (maybe with Night’s help if she’s in a good mood) to summon all the unmated alphas in town to his family’s home, and has them all walk past him while he smells every single one. Hob literally only showed up for the opportunity to steal some stuff from the place, so imagine his shock when little lordling Dream pounces on him and declares that they are true mates!! Hob obviously isn’t mad about it because Dream is the prettiest little darling he’s ever seen… he’s also an absolute terror, spends half his time snarling and the other half sulking. Hob loves it, loves him within about an hour (especially when Dream drags him off and takes his knot in a store cupboard - they’re not even married! the scandal is delicious!).

Dream is insatiable, but Hob is more than able to keep up. Hob doesn’t give a shit about manners or being respectable, and he’ll gladly join Dream in skipping out on diplomatic dinners and other dull things. The “honeymoon phase” doesn’t show any sign of stopping after a year of being mated - Dream rarely shows his face outside of their bedroom before noon, because he’s busy. It’s a good thing that Hob has access to high quality food now, because otherwise he’d be dropping a lot of weight with all the strenuous activity Dream expects from him.

Dream’s family aren’t best pleased with the match, but even they can’t stand in the way of true mates, and Dream is only the third child so it isn’t the end of the world. At least Hob keeps Dream out of trouble and full of pups.

[mytragedyperson]

Skandar and the unicorn thief chapter one discussion

Warning: Probably spoilers

Okay so, first of all I love this first chapter for many reasons. It introduces so many ideas and does a decent job of introducing Skandar and his family situation.

First of all, his dad having depression and not having a job and this causing them to be fairly poor. And also leading to Skandar's problems with Owen and his lack of friends. Now, I want to make this clear before I continue, I am not, in any way, trying to villainise the dad. It seems clear to me that he is supposed to have depression, whether it's diagnosed or not. But he's also the only parent Skandar and Kenna have, and, while they do have grandparents, the grandparents can't be there to take care of the dad, and so it falls to the children. And this leads to the children sometimes caring for their dad over their own self care.

On top of that we have Kenna, Skandar's sister. So I can't talk much about this, because it's not my experience, but this feel like what smart kid or golden child burnout is. There were a lot of expectations that Kenna would succeed and go on to have a unicorn of their own, and so, when she failed the exam, she not only missed out one her dream, but she also failed to meet those expectations and its probably the combination of these making her feel even worse. Especially if the dad was really driving home the idea that this, having a unicorn rider in the family, would fix all their problems, particularly with money. I don't know if the dad meant to put this much pressure on her but the pressure exists anyway. Honestly when it comes to Kenna, two songs immediately come to mind, Surface Pressure from Encanto and Top of my school by Katherine Lynn Rose.

And then you have Skandar, trying to navigate both of these situations, trying so hard not to say the wrong thing, and not always succeeding because he's still a kid who sometimes speaks without thinking, and a fairly awkward one, at that. Side note: him talking about the comments people make and how he only thinks of responses too late when the moment's already passed, yeah, most relatable shit I've ever read. Same, bestie. Also i really like Skandar and Kenna. They're both kids in a difficult situation, trying their best. Skandar, especially. Like, he does not deserve this bullying. I know Owen's a kid too, but honestly, fuck Owen. This is an anti bullying page. Especially cyber bullying. Only cowards bully people and that goes double for cyber bullying. Also, I do feel sorry for Kenna, being told her whole life this was her destiny and then having it ripped away from her. And honestly, there's a good chance that was because they worried she'd be a spirit weilder.

But also, the book specifically telling us Kenna favoured fire unicorns, but Skandar could never pick a favourite? I see you, book, hinting that there might be more to it.

Ties nicely in to the end of the chapter where the Weaver steals New Age Frost and the mainlanders don't know who the Weaver is and they say the mainland can't see this. Just does a great job telling us there's also more to the Island, things they're purposely hiding from the Mainland. I just love it. It feels like nothings wasted. Even the bit about the mum, Rosemary goes to show why they want this so much, why Skandar wants this so much.

Also this isn't about the chapter but the Island is my Hogwarts. You know Harry Potter fans joke about missing their Hogwarts letter and being disappointed? Well im disappointed I missed my unicorn exam. Am I scared of heights? Yes. Will I overcome this if it means I get a unicorn of my own? Yes, even if these unicorns are vaguely terrifying.

Also, can we just agree that when it comes to magic, going by elements is better? Whether it's the four elements, water, fire, earth air, or some extra ones added, like I believe I've seen light and dark and stuff, it's just a cool system, especially if your affinity doesn't stop you using other elements, just makes it harder. Like, just yes. If magic is natural in your world, like its a part of nature, then it should be based on a natural things. By the way when I say light and dark in this case, I don't mean good and bad, I mean liter light and dark.

[stoportotouch]

today, i present to you... a little... and...? le vesconte playlist.

sorry for the slightly silly title but i cannot stress enough how much the relationship between these two has the potential to fuck me up. it really is... little feels too much as a result of his trauma. le vesconte feels too little because of it. and the one time that they could have stood to sympathise with each other or meet in the middle, when ned was at his very lowest, dundy tries but not hard enough.

i. we will commit wolf murder | of montreal

when i die i want you to die too, not try to stay in this all in a dimension without you, spit on this planet without you i envy you because you could believe in things like i never could and, like, dose yourself into a coma over the bestiality of our race.

ii. big black bull comes like a caesar | munly and the lee lewis harlots

when my brother was a child, he was given an animal he raised it up to be a big black bull; it never did low, or pitch, or sway it never ride on the back of a flatbed

iii. we are gods! we are wolves! | le loup

we spent our darkest days howling at the moon, close enough to see our low condition. and did you ever wish that we were one? have you ever known your maker? could you lead your song aloft the mountain tops? you could never swing that dagger.

iv. alexander's feast, part ii: 'revenge, revenge! timotheus cries' | george frederick handel

behold a ghastly band, a ghastly band each a torch in his hand these are grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain and unburied remain: inglorious on the plain.

v. the killing type | amanda palmer

but i would kill to make you feel; i'd kill to move your face an inch i see you staring into space, i want to stick my fist into your mouth and twist your arctic heart

vi. a soreness so familiar it soon becomes unquestioned | crywank

when i sass you with a smile i see you didn't notice the quiver in my voice, the fact my bow is broken i had a nosebleed when i woke up then i didn't go to work i find my problems are all first-world but still i'm feeling hurt am i just a spoiled brat who taught themselves how to cry? who's so preconditioned now all their emotions are a lie? i close my eyes and look inside; no surprise i find nothing. it's people who shape each other and people are disgusting.

vii. alligator teeth | mother falcon

i will turn my friends to gold, for the treasury to hold them safely while they dream and how they dream, if they dream

viii. land of broken promises | iamx

turn the bad blood into good, bring the laughter, bring the love drink again 'cause everyone forgets in the land of broken promises

ix. puppet loosely strung | the correspondents

in the past you would have been seen as a family's disgrace now they think you're putting on a brave face they might fear that one day they'll wear your shoes but you're the one who's laughing; you had nothing to lose

x. great vacation | dirt poor robins

romans and countrymen, please lend me your ears: there's some late-breaking news i know you'd like to hear but the papers won't print it, and the tvs just won't air. nobody gets the word, 'cause there's nobody there.

xi. incident in a medical clinic | rasputina

quite unbelievably, i want someone to be sweet to me when i'm in absolutely horrible pain.

xii. incitatus | mishkin fitzgerald

my left hand is a whip and a bandage, free to choose where the mark or brand is each one knows how to hide in the carnage: hey're hiding, they're hiding. time's running out for the rats in the playground, cut straight down like a thief in a small town shots rack em up, pin a tail on the donkey: you've got a lot to answer for.

xiii. inside of you, in spite of you | thoushaltnot

i am inside of you, in spite of you with strength and sacred grace but for all you do, i'll carry you from this bitter place

xiv. god help you dumb boy | reverend glasseye

'dumb boy, what are you made of?' my eyes are lazy, my skin doth flake. 'then what good can you do?' not so much as men like you. 'dumb boy, what do you see?' a lesser man, coming down on me. 'tell us, what will you do?' i'll let my axe come down on you.

xv. the hand that feeds | the crane wives

i've seen good men spoiled, chained to their jobs like hounds they work, and sleep, and work again; in the darkest nights they howl their cries are a warning to everyone following: no man should stand to work all of his days and have nothing at the end of them.

xvi. what have they done to you now? | daniel knox

what have they done to you now? old familiar friends to fill your heart with grief and agony a little friendly conversation, character assassination i just don't care any more. i don't wanna know.

xvii. we'll all soon be dead | this way to the egress

the pitchfork's in the hay and we'll live another day as long as we can get through one more night this land's getting rotten, and i have to shake my head 'cause the cattle's sick and we'll all soon be dead.

xviii. lullaby | american murder song

troubles, and marks, and sakes to keep blow out the candle and go to sleep. high hang the moon that looks to the west, tied to your pillow, and twice 'round your chest

xix. danse macabre | the oh hellos

xx. my nightmare | phemiec

in my mightmare tonight, i'll see me, all consumed and attempting to sing disharmonious tunes with you asynchronicity, i am in misery i am in misery! what has been done to me?

xxi. hellfire | the mechanisms

your soul is connected to the world you're in you're dragging it down with the weight of your sin surrounded by temptation, and you just give in. we're falling into the flames.

xxii. edward | american murder song

after the spring, you shall find him after the snow leaves the hill after the spring, you shall find him. 'till then, there's no grave to fill.

xxiii. july | american murder song

outside, the tree coughed up blood 'stead of leaves coughs from the floorboards, coughs from the eaves i climbed the coughing tree, noose on my sleeve: i ain't going nowhere; i ain't going going nowhere.

xxiv. no children | the mountain goats

and i hope when you think of me years down the line, you can't find one good thing to say and i'd hope that if i found the strength to walk out, you'd stay the hell out of my way.

xxv. leather for hell | bitter ruin

euthanasia is gonna save ya; it's the kindest thing to do and you don't know it yet but every time you take that breath ten thousand other people suffer 'cause they feel the way i do.

xxvi. a deer mistaking candles for headlights | crywank

does the blank stare scare you more than the frown? am i the reason that you feel down? distant yet rational; bringer of rage to get to a level where i will engage i am a tentacle; incapacitated obstacle. i am obsolete and apathetic, thoughtlessly apologetic watch my actions (or lack thereof) negate the person that i said i was.

xxvii. eat you | caravan of thieves

i'm gonna eat you, you're my desire i'm gonna sharpen all my teeth and build a fire. i'm gonna eat you; cook and defeat you i'm gonna breathe you in my lungs and make you mine.

xxviii. destroy everything you touch | unwoman

destroy everything you touch today. destroy me this way anything that may desert you, so it cannot hurt you you only have to look behind you, at who's undermined you destroy everything you touch today. please. destroy me this way.

xxix. heretic pride | the mountain goats

i want to cry out, but i don't scream and i don't shout and i feel so proud to be alive and i feel so proud when the reckoning arrives.

xxx. pump shanty | the mechanisms

a transport mission, gone awry attacked by cole and left to fry is no excuse, boys, let us cry: "today is not the day we die!"

xxxi. bremen | pigpen theatre co.

but how long did we think we could walk, we could sing before our voices gave out and our limbs gave in on the road, on the road, on the road, on the road, on the way, on the way, on the way to bremen, to bremen, to bremen

xxxii. automatonic electronic harmonics | steam powered giraffe

i am not an unimaginable thing; my thoughts are tangible though they're full of springs i don't have the heart to send you untruthful words my skin is cold to the touch and made from the earth

xxxiii. never love an anchor | the crane wives

there are times when i still wonder about you: you are someone i have loved, but never known and you'll never see the reasons i had for keeping my claws away when they were close enough to hurt you. i am selfish, i am broken, i am cruel: i am all the things they might have said to you do you ever think of me and my two hands and wonder why they never soothed your fevers

xxxiv. my mom | kimya dawson

and he goes limp in your arms all the peoples' mouths are moving all you hear are car alarms and you wake up and start to cry i will lose my shit if even one more person i know dies so please don't die.

xxxv. allies or enemies | the crane wives

remember when i could tell you not to smile when you were mad and you would always crack, and we'd both be laughing in the end now you're not so quick to forget -- are we allies or enemies what happens now, do we have another go do we bow out and take our separate roads i'll admit, i've had my doubts, but i want to be let in, not out

xxxvi. beneath the brine | the family crest

now my heart is bound, like a plague upon this sound and oh, it slips away, such soft decay -- then it grows oh, young love, young dear, why have you taken me from the fall all of my love, all of my life, given to you, sacrificed stay clear of the wreckage: she goes down, down, down

xxxvii. mars | sleeping at last

though time is ruthless, it showed us kindness in the end by slowing down enough: a second chance to make amends so we found our way back home, let our cuts and bruises heal while a brand-new war began, a war that no-one else could feel

xxxviii. dance while the sky crashes down | jason webley

like that, the earth begins to quiver, and all the oceans turn to black a ship of maniacs with knives are playing blackjack with their lives to kill the time until the giant rats attack it's raining leprosy and acid; the saints were taken out and shot when someone proffers you a pear you sink your teeth in unaware that just beneath the skin lies pestilence and rot

xxxix. animal skin | bryan dunn

i can see it in their eyes: they're coming for you, honey painted faces, sharpened knives. do you think it's funny if you dress it up, you'll have to break it in but you never look better than when you wear your animal skin

xl. love, love, love | the mountain goats

love, love is gonna lead you by the hand into a white and soundless place now we see things as in a mirror, dimly then, we shall see each other face to face and way out in seattle young kurt cobain snuck out to the greenhouse, put a bullet through his brain snakes in the grass beneath our feet, rain in the clouds above some moments last forever, but some flair out with love, love, love

[etoilebleu]

@thorrncrowned for cassian from maria !

1852.

the eight year old had made it this far. boarded a ship as a secret stowaway across the small ocean that separated her from a brighter future. so her mother had advised her before she succumbed to her illness.

leaving maria to fend for herself.

the final image of her mother haunted her. knuckles white as they gripped her tiny hands, gasping for air to say her father's full name and where to find him, the look of everlasting love in her tired gaze.

the child was practically skin and bones when the ship made it ashore, maria making her way off as soon as she could without being seen.

the next week she spent continuing to steal food to gain her strength somewhat back and find out more details about where her father might be. it was an exhausting process. a few close calls were already made, running from guards left and right any time she was spotted.

they considered a dirty, starving and homeless thing a pest. not wanting anything to do with her or to help her. so it was only natural she act as feral as she could to scare them given the opportunity.

one evening it seemed like all her patience was going to pay off. a grand party was happening, giving her enough bodies to weave through to get as close as she could to him.

lord cassian langston. they had the same eyes. heart beat wildly in her chest, mia gripping the pillar she hid behind, getting as close as she could.

until she felt a hand snatch at her back. gasping, eyes swiveled up to an angry guard, sneering at her. " finally got you now! thought you could pick pocket in here, aye? "

maria screamed bloody murder in frustration, writhing around in his grip wildly until her feet swung far back enough to kick him in the crotch.

she was dropped immediately, the girl making a run for it, bee-lining for the preoccupied lord, a few people gasping in terror at the sight.

she had to talk to him. she came all this way.

his unsuspecting child slammed into his side, dirty fingers gripping and clawing at his expensive coat with wide eyes, breathing heavily in fear, gaze swiveling back to the oncoming danger.

a few more guards showed up in retaliation, shouting and running to circle cassian and pull the thief off of him.

" I'm terribly sorry, lord langston. please forgive the intrusion. you'll be back to your festivities in just a moment. " yet they were struggling to pull her off.

maria screamed once more, teeth gritted and growling while she kicked at them. " PAPA PLEEEEAAAAAASE ! " she cried out desperately, tears forming in her big brown eyes.

one grunted, grabbing the back of her neck in an attempt to steady her from doing anymore damage. " oh please! anything to get out of her crimes. she's a good for nothing thief! you say the word and we'll try her for her crimes. ASSULT on top of it. "

they finally pulled her off, it taking three officers to hold an arm and her legs, maria bending all around in an attempt to bite them.

" I'm NOT A THIEF ! I came by boat to meet my PAPA. " beginning to tremble while the tears fell. resembling the child she actually was now and not a wild beast.

" please. my mama is dead. you are all I have now. " but what reason did he have to believe her?

maria began to sob uncontrollably, crumpling in the officers gasp, terrified of the thought.

[libidomechanica]

To bind his tree

A Kelly lune sequence

               1

And the superior dust-of- sleep. To bind his tree.

               2

In our own freedom for? Hour forth, compartment in wheel.

               3

Is whirl’d. My sleep, all the flowers, with his partiall lot.

               4

I feel thou art gone? And with a smile. It was the fray.

               5

’ She, A sodger’s wife; he couples, they did the morning.

               6

More term’d a poet’s rage and swelling! When you yourself!

               7

Thee or springing each for thee of trust which in higher.

               8

So mastering love shall loves have seen. Peace in the day.

               9

Troubled the evening what or whose rules which wonted were.

               10

By him could youthful in love, I always long. Strange flames?

               11

From thee, and keep us waking, for thee; thou wage mute!

               12

—They want to that bosom! In thy subject that good sex.

               13

With and the trail. A sheathen tribute of nastiness.

               14

Moan         from yours, with me. We could find our two souls of fear.

               15

Yes! Why dost thou! And I sigh back at the High Court loathed?

               16

Woods with a kiss now! —This is an institution bed.

               17

Mid city-noise, not enamoured of caulking, ride!

               18

And what purple fritillaries the old men of Love.

               19

She look’d down below? So I would raise; but oh fie on’t!

               20

Eating with buds, and he wears, till at her need, the sink.

               21

Did fret, and muffled the green neon. Which Enna yields.

               22

So oft as the flown! And by someone sings his owne hurts.

               23

Thing hung, so the blurred yellow hair over his ski poles.

               24

Beautiful old rhyme. More harm than slept. How I love it.

               25

The beauty make your hair was something it. Is it not?

               26

Such coltish yeeres much as a beggared? Hail, Poesie!

               27

With my added praise. Time drives; wee Pope, the dusk hill-side.

               28

And I’m come hame, and low! It is the feel thou art sick.

               29

” By young Favonious. A rushing small. Said it recite.

               30

He said young Lochinvar. But still past kisses bleachers.

               31

Since, thy throat. The bedded graves, your great humanity.

               32

Is full conquest got. Was sometimes a truth in excess!

               33

City with the ceremony of loue with the mind!

               34

The fine, no lute, no fancy. Say, Lassie, why not much.

               35

—Or a criminal hates a cloudy air, or their tents.

               36

Under the assention he fixed it, as words? To write!

               37

Ridge had consented, the superior dust-of-sleep.

               38

Turned away. Stood my faith rewarded. And no one sings.

            ��  39

From my heart. I might move to live every vulgar thief.

               40

Through too much we lose. And you I could have I heard you.

               41

Knights, and let him shall scarcely greet the baskets start back.

               42

That long woo’d your most clean. I have vanished by the rest.

               43

In ev’ry scene. As if he torment us with pains.

               44

One familiar. Mouth where most is the day, yet knows how?

               45

Which she went out. My smell: but who would have seem to death!

               46

A tear falls belong to drown me in distress, below?

               47

Scatter from high stars are styled, who grew thy mind’s body.

               48

Whose flame the breath or a war? Of the milk of her drop?

               49

Men kill! A spirits, and fain would it law that she down.

               50

Is all the Heart. Sing And now that late since mad March green.

               51

And blow a strain distress. Hear it from them of the host.

               52

A casement thy word! Man who left a desert sky?

               53

I looked back. A heart- wearying to write good god make.

               54

Her apron gave thy faces. I saw her looking, ride!

               55

Our backs, and forest thou art! Squire Pope but a lass there.

               56

Voice cry ‘Is it done? And Thou Shalt Not, writing off you.

               57

A kiss now! But the fruit bats scatter’d world’s wealth to war.

               58

And forever. When I touch somewhat late since burnie strays!

               59

Houses come tomato aspic, Helen! They have thee.

               60

Sweet-William with little light, yet, happy dove? I die!

               61

The Crownéd Heart. My tongue, and save, should I forget such love.

               62

A spoilt child war’s dead. In this head of death all we taste.

               63

With men of Love in fresh Rose, I’m also live to roam.

               64

That much. Far, far around the stroked my dainty Lucia.

               65

See him furst; delight. Until all on my spinnin’ wheel.

               66

Stella loue. Of the Bondage of dew: let men partake?

               67

After me and building of roses. Said it recite.

               68

’Tis Friends let it fly! Love give up to be sung their moss.

               69

Enchantment there is no peace return to Caledonie!

               70

But many house an irredeemable worms. His sheep.

               71

Drop by, and small cause. Be more silently ravell d.

[mypoorocs]

Making an example out of whumpee

Genuine belief in corrective punishment

To get famous

Magical/cult sacrifice

Entertaining their friends at parties

Selling tickets to "exhibitions" (whumpees are tortured for show)

Making whumpee fight for money (gladiators, fighting rings etc)

Selling pictures/videos of whumpee

Selling body parts

Whumper is a monarch/noble/military officer etc who takes the whole "it's better to be feared than loved" thing very seriously

Collecting blackmail material

Extorting a false confession

Posting whumpee's torture to social media for fame or money

Research (science, medicine)

Research (writer)

Maybe it isn't about the research itself, but whumper makes money selling research to companies that use it for product dev

Bigotry

For the "greater good/good of humanity"

Whumpers hopes the publicity will distract people from some other scheme of theirs

Coping mechanism (maybe whumper has bad anxiety and whumping someone helps them quiet their mind)

whumper has an inferiority complex and feels the need to prove to themselves that they are capable of being scary, exerting power over another human

Stress relief, letting off steam

Control freak

Whumper is deeply lonely and thinks they are unlovable so this is the only way they know to get more than surface level human connection

Control freak that doesn't want to clean their own house

Used to getting their way

Does not see a reason to care about other people's feelings. "Just suck it up. It's not like you're going to die."

Believes they deserve a perfect friend/spouse/child/servant/slave etc

Peer pressure

Because it's funny

Whumper genuinely doesn't realize they are hurting whumpee, or that whumpee is capable of being hurt

Systemic, normalized whump: "obviously you take slaves when you conquer a territory, obviously you discipline your slaves" / "you're a thief, of course you deserve to be whipped" / "I'm the princess and you're just a commoner, you should feel honoured to serve me"

Whumper can't be seen as weak

Whumper is trying to win someone's approval

(Falsely) believes that you can torture information out of someone, or "break their will"

Can't control their temper

Whumper is deeply (maybe irrationally) afraid of being tortured, so they do it to someone else to desensitize themselves or learn how it works thinking the knowledge might come in handy

Wants to test out a new invention

That's all I've got (for now)

What are some reasons a whumper would whump I'm tired of writing Whumper's who whump for the sake fo whumping

(comment or reblog I don't mind as long as I get answers ToT)

[love-toxin]

scream my name - eddie munson

plot: you, eddie's precious angelface, are the lead singer of his favourite black metal band. and a chance meeting after your concert might pave the way for his dreams about you to become real.

cws: metalhead!reader, gn pronouns, blood, mentions of perfomatory self-mutilation, smoking, cigarettes, light sexual innuendos, no spoilers

wc: 1.7k

It's a wonder Eddie could even make his way through the crowd in the first place. The pit had been insane, and the performance itself was stellar--he loves your band as a whole, but his love for you is a lot deeper than that.

You're the poster child for the whole group. Not only are you unsettlingly pretty for the leader of a black metal band, but you're the one that's constantly coming up with new ideas for the shows, and if he hasn't seen them in person, you can damn sure bet he's heard the stories and forced the people telling them to retell them as many times as he can manage.

You've done the classics, smashing your guitars on stage and splintering the pieces across the crowd, but you moved on pretty quickly from that. Then it started getting even more intense--you've done everything from orchestrating stage fire to performing with barbed wire wrapped around your legs and tied down to the stage. Fans have told stories about your scars, about how you've even slit your hand open and got someone in the crowd to drink your blood, and Eddie wishes it could've been him. He's not sure if that one is true, but that hasn't stopped him from dreaming about it when he lays back in bed and blasts your music as he smokes and....does other things.

So to be in the audience for your shows is like…it's a spiritual experience. He's still in awe of it now, as people filter out while still cheering your name, but it dawns on him soon that since he's so close to the stage it's gonna take a pretty long time for him to get out and get going home–the drive here was long, and the drive back to Hawkins is gonna feel even longer so late at night. Lucky for him, his thief's eye catches sight of an unguarded door by the stage, and when he gets to the edge of the crowd he darts inside and lets it close behind him. Knowing venues like this, there's always a back door to get out into the alleyway. But once he makes it down the corridor lit by flickering fluorescent lights and turns the corner, he's taken by surprise by what, at first, he assumes is a security team.

But then, he sees you. Your bandmates are milling about ten feet further down near the real back door, but you're leaning against a doorframe that presumably leads to the lower area of the stage, taking a puff of your dwindling cigarette and staring off into the distance. And you're still covered in blood from the performance, the abundance of black leather in your outfit stained and crackly with what he only now realizes is most definitely real blood, so Gareth can shove his theory of you using the fake stuff up his ass. Your gimmick this time was to be showered by a waterfall of blood as you played your last set, and it had been glorious, the blood splashing all over the audience and making them look like a red sea of bodies as they sang along. So fucking cool, and he's fairly certain he at least got a little bit in his hair from where he had been standing himself.

But now, seeing you alone here, his first thought is to back away before he gets tackled by a bodyguard or something–but then your eyes meet, and to his absolute shock, you smile at him and wave him over.

"Heya, sweetheart. You liked the show?"

His steps are light, quick, but nervous. He's almost afraid to get within five feet of you, but the rest of your band don't bat an eye at him as he gets close enough to touch you. Eddie stares for a good, long few seconds just taking you in before he realizes that you asked him a question, and hurries to answer it.

"Loved it, I fucking loved it! It was…it was amazing. You're amazing."

Eddie breathes, barely able to comprehend the fact that you're even standing in front of him. You flick your cigarette butt away, your eyes never leaving his.

"Fuck yeah. I like to hear it."

God, your confidence is fucking hot. His crush on you isn't anything new to his friends and to anybody he can get to listen to your music, but those feelings flutter even more now that he's face to face with you. It's like he's falling in love all over again, the first time being when he heard your voice and saw you live on stage at his first concert of yours.

"I think I saw you cheering in the crowd, actually. I recognize the shirt."

You gesture towards the Hellfire logo with your curious eyes following suit, and he proudly sports a toothy grin before holding it out straight by the bottom, so you can get an even better look.

"Like it?"

"I love it. Very metal. What's your name, baby?"

Ohhhh, he just died. He might already be dead. He'd be happy dying right now, hearing the most metal person he's ever met calling him metal, and with a bit of stumbling over his words he manages to string together the letters of his own name. Luckily he hasn't forgotten.

"Eddie, huh?"

The way his name leaves your mouth, it's like…it's hard to explain. It's like hearing a voice in the summer breeze and turning around to find nobody there. It's enchanting.

"That's a nice name, sweetheart. Rhymes with a lotta stuff. Bet it would make for some good lyrics."

He's so entranced by you, your blood-covered face smeared in a thick layer of black makeup, that the pack of cigarettes and your signature lighter practically materialize in your hands. You pop one out with a smack and pull it out the rest of the way with your teeth, and when you gesture towards him with the rest, he quite happily follows suit and does the same to your obvious entertainment, if your grin when he does so is anything to go by. The box disappears back into your jacket, and you light the stick hanging out of your mouth with a flourish–and instead of lighting his the same way, you lean in and hover the end of your cigarette against his until it flickers into a flame. Fucking mercy.

"You wanna come to the afterparty, Eddie? Be my plus one?"

There's not even an ounce of a cough when you take a puff, the drag slow and smooth as you evaluate him for his answer. But not in the way that people at school around town often will–your stare is inquisitive, interested, and he can't sense any judgement from you even with your playful tone. You well and truly seem like a cool, relaxed person, so it makes it even less believable that he's actually being asked what he thinks he's being asked.

"Are you–are you serious?"

Your laughter comes as a surprise, and for the second that he thinks you really are just yanking his chain, he's still too in awe to think about anything but how much different it sounds. Your laugh is sweet and infectious, totally unlike the gritty, scream-filled songs that tear out of your lungs onstage.

"Serious as a heart attack. Don't have one, though--you're too cute to die."

You wink at him, your cigarette dangling as you reach into your back pocket and pull out a black handkerchief. With a couple wipes the dried blood comes off your cheeks and your forehead for the most part, leaving behind only streaks and crusted over bits around your hairline, along with smudging your makeup even more than it already was from your sweat. On anyone else it might be gross, but on you, it looks hot.

"Eddie, I don't invite just anyone. You're the first person to pique my interest in a while, and I wanna get to know you better. Maybe we can, y'know….collaborate."

The way that word flutters off your tongue makes him fidget and suck hard on his cigarette, his iconic rings twisting and tinging together so lightly that he would assume nobody would notice–but you do, and your gaze drops down…and stays down.

"Shit, I'll bring my guitar!"

"Oh, you play? Even better."

It takes him a second to understand what you're insinuating, and when he does, you turn your eyes back up and giggle at how red his face is getting. He just has to take another puff from his cig to try and hide his face in a cloud of smoke, but it's a feeble attempt at best.

You're so different from Hawkins, from everything about Hawkins. You're cool and you're hot, yes, but you're also just…special. You had every right to stomp on him or flat-out kick his ass to the curb, but you seem so interested and he can tell that you genuinely enjoy listening. For a lead singer, you seem to be much more of a listener than a talker. And you're just so kind, and unapologetic, and he thinks he's in love. He is in love. This has to be what it feels like, because he can't imagine anything feeling any better than this.

But as you're sharing a contemplative and almost romantic gaze, both your heads swivel at the sound of your manager, with a deep and crackly smoker's voice, barking at you to get yourself and your gear outside and into the van.

"Cool your ass, dickhead! C'mon, Eddie. Let's go, yeah?"

A little irritated that you have to throw away your cigarette without finishing it, you drop it to the ground and crush it with a black boot while Eddie does the same…and silently wishes it was him underneath your heel. You kick off the doorway you've been leaning on and the two of you head down the corridor towards the open door, a spray-painted hippie van idling while your mates pile their gear inside. And before you get there he feels a brush against his hand, and looks down to see you sliding your own inside his to squeeze it. It sends a fluttering feeling into his heart, and the sensation drops right into his groin when you lean over to whisper into his ear.

"Good boy. I can't wait to hear you sing for me."

[libraford]

The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time. 

The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.

This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo

There are rules and there are rules.

In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word. 

Don't. 

Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs. 

Let them. 

There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem. 

Life is surprising. 

 I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now. 

The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in. 

"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think." 

And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly. 

"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!" 

The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door. 

"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later." 

I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice. 

While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away. 

She has a pattern.

She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time." 

The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying. 

After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods. 

Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register. 

And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out. 

This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief. 

"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices." 

"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special." 

She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story: 

"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them." 

"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?" 

Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious. 

And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag. 

She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison. 

What she went to prison for was drug trafficking. 

"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen. 

"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!" 

And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture. 

By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow. 

And that's why there are rules. 

On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful. 

"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said. 

"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse. 

It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street. 

Wren drives very fast. 

If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry. 

"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief. 

Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"

"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect." 

Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her. 

But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing. 

So now there are rules. 

If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag. 

If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out. 

If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first. 

The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00. 

We do not keep trash bags in plain sight. 

Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags. 

Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it. 

Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it. 

Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you. 

If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble. 

The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.

There are rules and there are rules and there are rules. 

If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount. 

You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways. 

She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said: 

"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!" 

"They've been sitting without water for hours." 

"They're still good!" 

"They were out in the sun." 

"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!" 

"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."

Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears. 

We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage. 

And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.

She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me. 

Again.

"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email." 

"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday."��

"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!" 

"Saturday." 

"Yeah." 

"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday." 

"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale." 

"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday." 

She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer. 

 And again.

"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together. 

"Sure." 

"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink." 

"Sure." 

I print it. I ring her up $5. 

"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free." 

"Grandpa said- banners start at $5." 

"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time." 

"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?" 

She grumbled, and paid. 

 And again. 

"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?" 

"When the work is done." 

"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"

"I stop working when the work is done, Wren." 

She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?" 

"When the work stops, I rest."

 And again. 

"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up. 

"Oh baby..." 

"No. We're doing away with the discounts." 

There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling. 

"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-" 

"How can you do this to me?" 

"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement." 

"After all these years and this is how you treat me?" 

"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.

"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar." 

Stamp, stamp, stamp. 

Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back. 

"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register. 

"Is it now?" 

 And again. 

She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.

She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin. 

I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned. 

Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go. 

She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me. 

I began taking down numbers. 

27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens. 

I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler. 

"$54? What do I have that's $54?" 

"The oasis. They're $2 each." 

"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1." 

"I can text Grandpa and ask her." 

"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!" 

"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses." 

"22.50 is everybody prices." 

"Welcome to 'everybody.'" 

"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!" 

"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else." 

She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me. 

I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me. 

"I'm gonna call Kyle on this." 

"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.' 

She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand. 

"Can you do something for me  on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty." 

"9.50." 

"9.50's the regular price." 

"Regular price is $14." 

"No it ain't." 

"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals." 

She put them back. 

She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy. 

She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!" 

There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice. 

Not here. 

Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be. 

It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes... 

... to flat-out telling someone 'no.' 

"No." 

It's such a great word. 

There are rules and there are rules. 

And there are thieves that the rules are made for. 

And there are words like 'no.' 

And all those things are magic in very human ways. 

[minty-mumbles]

Foundlings

Summary: What if the Links weren't born? What if they just... appeared one day?

Author's Note: This was inspired by some asks on @tortilla-of-courage's blog

(Read it on Ao3 Here)

~~~

Everyone on Skyloft had a profound bond with their loftwing. Everyone. They would trust their birds with their life, and more significantly, the lives of their children, if they had any. It wasn’t a rare sight to see your neighbor’s loftwing watching after their child, or to see a loftwing carrying a wayward child back home.

And, although Skyloft is a small island, not everyone knows each other.

So they can’t be blamed, really, that they didn't notice right away that all the loftwings on the island were playing hot potato with a small child.

They only really started to notice when the headmaster of the Knight’s academy found his loftwing looking after not just his own daughter, but a young boy as well.

Before he could question it, or pick up the boy, another loftwing swooped in, snatching the boy up by the back of his tunic. The toddler didn’t seem to mind, squealing in excitement as the bird took him up to the roof.

Gaepora still might not have thought anything about it, except that he knew for a fact that that loftwing’s rider had died a year ago. That’s why the bird was here. It was still mourning its partner, and it was better for it to be around other loftwings. The communal nests for the loftwings at the academy were perfect for that.

And, as far as he knew, the loftwing hadn’t picked a new rider. So whose child was that?

~

After a good two or three weeks of searching for the child’s parents and simultaneously trying to get the boy away from the loftwings, they were still empty-handed.

The search for the parents was futile. Nearly everyone on the island knew about the boy now, and most had even seen their own loftwings carrying the boy around. No parent had stepped forward.

On the other hand, no one could actually manage to get the kid away from the loftwings. It was rare for the birds to completely disobey their riders, but in this, they seemed resolute. The boy would be staying with the loftwings, at least for now.

Gaepora pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at his daughter, who was currently giggling with the yet unmanned boy on his own loftwings back. This boy was going to be nothing but trouble, he could already feel it.

~~~

The master smith of Castle town wasn’t a slouch at hand-to-hand combat. He had never been formally trained in the subject. But he was a smith. Being a smithy was very physically taxing. He may be getting on a bit in years, but he could still swing a hammer and withstand the blazing heat of the forge.

So when he entered his shop in the morning and heard rustling behind the counter he kept his lockbox behind, he did not run to call the town guards. They wouldn’t even get here in time, and Smith could deal with the thief by himself.

When he rounded the corner of the counter with a shout, what he found was not what he expected. Instead, he found a little kid. Really, he couldn't be more than two or three. Instead of the lock box, he had been rooting around in a jar of cookies that Smith kept in the shop for the rather common occasion he got the munchies in the middle of the day.

The child was watching him with wide eyes, his gaze not wavering. He had far too much of an intelligent gaze for a two year old who had literally gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Smith looked around, foolishly hoping that the child’s mother would pop out from behind one of the shelves to claim the him.

No such luck, of course. Cursing his bleeding heart, Smith picked up the child and, hanging a sign on the door to tell his customers he was closed for the day, made his way home.

~~~

The Great Deku Tree was very old. He liked to take naps, which sometimes ended up lasting months. And he forgot things sometimes.

But he was pretty sure he wasn't actually asleep for more than a few hours this time. And he was sure he would have remembered this.

There was a child laying between his roots. An infant, wrapped in swaddling clothes, nestled in a bed of fallen leaves.

The Tree didn’t recognize him.

He would know if this was a Kokiri child. It was not. This child was as Hylian as they came. And yet, somehow, he had ended up here. Deep in the lost woods, where no adult could reach. At the very least, the fairies or the Kokiris would have woken him if there had been an intruder.

The Tree took his time examining the child, looking for any clues to his origins. He found none.

After a while, the baby started to fuss. The Deku Tree hummed, calling for a fairy to go fetch Saria. She was a responsible young lass. She would make sure the boy was well looked after.

He stayed contemplating the child long after he had been taken away by the Kokiri. That child would be one to make note of.

~~~

They were calling him the Hero of the Wind, now. She had smiled when she heard that, but to her, he would always be Link. She gave him that name, after all. She had named him after the previous hero when she found him. There had been no mother in sight to give her a different name, after all.

She hadn’t known where the baby had come from. When she had gone on an early morning walk one day, it had led to her finding a woven basket with a wailing infant inside it, washed up on the shore.

No one on Outset Island had a child this young, or was even pregnant. But Hylia would be damned if she left the babe there. Besides, she was lonely. Her husband had died a few years back, and her daughter had left Outset, rarely visiting. She wouldn’t mind someone to share her house with.

There were rumors. Of course there were. Outset island was a calm and peaceful place, but that didn’t mean all the people there were kind. Suddenly acquiring a child out of nowhere was suspicious. People called her a witch behind her back, not so subtly accusing her of stealing the child.

She had claimed that her daughter had come back from sailing to give Link to his grandmother, but no one had actually seen the young woman do so, so there were always skeptics.

And there was indeed a good reason that no one had seen her come back. It was because the woman hadn’t. No one but Granny would ever know the truth of it, she had vowed to herself.

But, eventually, the excitement died down. Link was a sweet boy. And, well, he had his Granny’s nose, after all, and his mother’s bright golden hair.

(And a few years after that, when she found Aryll on her front porch, surrounded by seagulls, people said much the same about the little girl.)

~~~

The Hero of Legend had humble beginnings, just like most of his brethren. Before he had started his journeys, he had grown up on a farm, looked after by his uncle. In truth, though, said uncle had no relation to him at all.

The nearby village thought he was just an orphan.

It wasn’t unusual. Families were torn apart often these days, sometimes literally, meeting brutal ends at the hands of monsters. Many times, this left children to wander, with no one to care for them. Sometimes, families would take them in and care for them like they were their own.

It was a bit odd that Link's Uncle would do so, as he had no wife to help him in raising a child. But after all, he had no wife, and never showed any signs of looking for one. Perhaps he wanted someone to look after him as he grew older, or just someone to share his house with. It must get lonely, all by himself in that huge farm, so far from town.

In truth, he couldn’t have done anything else, except take the kid in. He had been sucked in by the big eyes set into the sweet face the first time he set eyes on the boy.

The boy never made any mention of his previous family. But, thought his uncle, that was probably normal. Whatever happened to him before he found his way here couldn’t have been pleasant.

It was probably normal not to want to speak of it. And besides, there were apples that needed to be picked, animals to be fed, grain to be cut. There would be time for talking later. For now, he would focus on teaching Link the proper way to hold a cucco without being mauled.

~~~

Legend had it that the Hero of Hyrule started his adventure in a cave. What the Legends don’t tell is that he also started his life in that cave.

In his era, monsters roamed nearly everywhere. There were a few exceptions. One of these was a small cave. It was hidden deep in a forest, and generally ignored by all who passed it. Most who saw it assumed it was too small to be a proper shelter for anyone.

It was this assumption that made it the perfect spot for its inhabitants to hide. A group of fairies had stumbled across the cave, and claimed it for their own. It was undisturbed by the bigger creatures of the world, and it was the perfect size for them.

It was deep in this cave, soaked in fae magic, that this group of fairies found a tiny child. Or more accurately, he found them. When he wiggled through the crack of the cave opening and saw them, he giggled, clapping his hands.

They were uncertain at first. What was a young hylian doing out here? It shouldn't be possible. Where had he even come from? He couldn’t have made it all the way out here by himself.

Being naturally helpful creatures, they tried to search for the small one’s parents, but came up empty-handed. All the while, the child played with the strands of magic they conjured to entertain him.

Fairies have a poor sense of time. They just kept searching for the child’s parents. They fed him when he was hungry, and sang him to sleep when he was tired. They didn’t even notice that the child was growing up.

~~~

Wolves are not a common animal to see in Ordon. Generally, they preferred to stay away from the village.

There were exceptions. If there was a harsh winter, wolf packs might approach the village, looking for the easy meals the goats presented. If a wolf was sick, they might wander closer in confusion as well.

So when Uli looked out the window, and saw a large golden wolf in the middle of the goat pen, she was understandably shocked. The wolf looked healthy. Its fur coat was glossy, and even from this distance, Uli could see muscles rippled under its coat when it moved. There was no sickness in this creature. It was the height of summer. The game in the forest should be plentiful. There was no real reason for it to go after her goats.

Looking closer, she could see that the wolf was standing over something, likely one of her goats. She cursed, gripping the bow from the mantle that they kept for situations just like this, and exited the house.

When the wolf saw that he was being approached, he calmly turned away. Moving at a quick pace, he left behind the prize he was guarding, and returned to the edge of the forest. When he reached the forest, he turned to look back at her. With what looked disturbingly like a nod, he disappeared into the woods.

After watching for a few moments to make sure the wolf wouldn’t return, Uli turned to inspect the damage to the herd.

Instead of finding a dead goat, she found a small bundle of blankets. Filled with curiosity, she knelt, moving the blankets aside cautiously. What she found was the last thing she thought she would.

A toddler, curled up and sleeping peacefully, as if they hadn’t just been two feet away from a wolf.

Well. What was she to do with this, then?

~~~

There is no record of the Hero of Warriors from before the War. Most people from his era assume that it’s because he came from a little town in the middle of nowhere. A farm boy, a nobody who crawled up the ranks to become a war hero, a captain.

In reality, the Hero of Warriors was a rather special case. He was made for war. He was a savior of his people, just like his brethren, but a child does not a warrior make. And a warrior is what was needed.

He strode into Hyrule castle, among the swarm of other young men who were reporting to the recruiters in the front hall. In the chaos, the one who greeted him neglected to ask where the young man was from, and Link did not offer the information.

From that point on, he was only called Link, with no surname on his record. Eventually, that became Commander Link, and then Captain Link.

No one ever questioned where he had come from. It was usually best not to think about those things too hard.

~~~

There was no one alive who remembered the Hero of the Wild’s origins. That was to be expected. It had been well over a century since he was born, after all.

The hero himself could not remember, and all those who had known him from before barely knew about his family.

The story of his birth was lost, or so it seemed.

The truth was that there was no story to be told. The hero’s family had been a small one. A knight who served in Hyrule’s military, his wife, and a little daughter. When the daughter had been born, the wife had nearly died. The doctor had warned them that another child would likely kill her.

So, though they dearly wanted a son to carry on their family’s name, and for his father to train him the way of the sword, they were content with their little girl.

Fate had other plans for them, though. One morning when the daughter was about a year old, they had just sat down for breakfast when there was a knock on the door.

The knight stood to answer the door. When he opened it, he did not find one of their neighbors, or a messenger from the castle, as he had expected, but a young boy, maybe five or six years old.

When asked what he needed, he simply said that he was their son.

He waltzed right in and plopped himself down at the table, pleased as punch with himself.

The knight and his wife looked at each other in amusement. This might as well happen. They could afford to feed an extra mouth for a meal or two. They could go look for the little one’s parents after they ate.

[alwayswasagoodthief]

(Let me know if I need to add to this!) This was hell. Abigail was sure of it. Between the pain and the terror, she thought she was going to become sick on top of it all. How could she have been so stupid? She had seen numerous times what happened to girls like her, and yet here she was in the same situation. No, she wasn’t in the brothels anymore. Uncle had seen to that. 

Where was John in all this? He had to be here - somewhere, although men were usually not present during birth unless it was one of those “special” doctors.

Women in her station didn’t have happy endings - but at least here she had a chance. Here, she had people that loved her - Hosea primarily being one of them. But she couldn’t depend on them - now she was a burden. How far she had fallen - from being the top con woman after Hosea, one of the top thieves to a burden. She wished she could go back in time. She wished she was brave enough to….be rid of this child. She had seen it happen numerous times with the soiled doves she worked with - but many had died, and that frankly terrified her. And yet here she was, just as at risk for death. Her own mother had died giving birth to her. Was she going to join her family? If she died, would a former whore and thief like her go to heaven? She’d pray. It was one of the only comforts she had. If the child was born healthy, did she give it to an orphanage? Her own was ripe with abuse. She tried to withhold a gasp as pain tore through her body. To think, she was only eighteen, yet babies had been born to mothers far younger than her. Abigail appreciated Hosea for fetching  another woman - someone who wasn’t Grimshaw - who she was sure hated her. - but she wasn't up for playing nice. Not know. Hosea approached her through the tent, “Are you ready, Abigail?” “No! I’m not ready! How could I ever be ready for this!” Abigail snapped. She hadn’t meant to, but she knew he would forgive her. “I know, Abigail, but we found someone and she’s finally here. Come on, let’s go meet her.” Hosea said gently, holding a hand out. Abigail grasped his hand, nearly doubling over in pain as another contraction took hold. “We’re going out There? Shouldn’t she be comin’ to see me?” Abigail asked in bewilderment. Hosea nodded. “Walking a bit is good, Abigail. It keeps things moving along and might distract you - if even for a moment.” He added. Abigail straightened herself. She did not want to show weakness - not to a complete stranger, even if she was there to help her. Abigail stepped slowly from the tent, embarrassingly so, before making her way to the table, to sit. “I’m Abigail, the one you’re supposed to be helpin’” She gritted out through the pain. “What’s your name? You a midwife, doctor, somethin’?” Abigail asked.

@alwayswasagoodthief - Just did a little starter if you'd be interested! I hope it's ok I've set it before the events of RDR2 when Abigail is pregnant with Jack.

~~~

Arthur had brought her into the camp and she couldn’t help feeling apprehensive and worried. There was no denying that he and Javier had been courteous and respectful to her, if a little rough around the edges, but that was to be expected. But to be within a camp of thieves, outlaws and at least one working woman, dear lord, what would her parents think? What would her friends at St Mary’s think? Doubtless some who she would not consider her friends would be rather sneery and contemptuous about matters! Arthur helped her down from his horse and an older man approached them, he gave her a gentle smile and she immediately felt the fear in her chest dissipate a little.

‘Good evening, I’m Hosea Matthews. Who’s your new friend, Arthur?’

‘This is Sarah,’ Arthur grunted. ‘Where’s Abigail?’

‘Sarah, Sarah Wilson. I’m a nurse with some training in midwifery, I believe you have a lady who is pregnant and-’ she said, but Hosea interrupted her, practically brimming with excitement.

‘Oh, Arthur, that’s a bit of luck!’ Hosea said. ‘I’ll fetch Abigail.’

Sarah pursed her lips, she didn’t feel particularly lucky having been chased out of her workplace, her home, everything she had ever known and loved, just to be thrown to the wolves and be forced to play nice with a den of ne’er-do-wells! But there wasn’t much she could do in the situation. Arthur gestured towards the middle of camp where a rudimentary table had been set up, a few wooden crates littered around it were presumably seats.

‘ ‘spect you’re hungry,’ he said.

‘Yes, I dare say I am.’

‘I’ll fetch you something, you wait there for Abigail.’

She almost wanted to make a sarcastic little quip about not really having anywhere else she could go to, but nevertheless she sat down on a box and waited.

[kung-laos-hat]

Infatuation

Liu Kang x Fem!Reader

This is my first fic on here :) not proof read yet‼️

Summary: Reader was an orphan Raiden found and raised in the temple. Despite being close in ages, Kung Lao and Liu were forbidden from really interacting with her because Raiden feared they’d become a distraction to each other. One night Liu Kang catches her sneaking around the temple, and doesn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity to talk to her

It was no secret that out of all the students Master Raiden took on, (Y/n) was by far one of his favorites. Although he would never dare to outright say it, the proof of this matter became pretty evident in their day to day life. (Y/n) was always the pupil standing behind him or to the side whenever another god payed the temple a visit, she was always given the most formidable missions and tasks, and to top it all off, she trained one-on-one with the Master himself and forbid most of the monks from interacting with her.

Now, Raiden could have placed this rule down for several reasons, but the most prominent one seemed to be because (Y/n) was the only female amongst his students, and so he mandated this in order to protect her well being. After all, who knew what evil might lurk in the hearts of these young men, Raiden thought. As one of his best pupils, (Y/n) couldn’t afford any distractions, nor could the others such as Liu Kang or Kung Lao.

Aside from that, Raiden had raised (Y/n) since she was a child, and as much as he hated to admit, he’d grown rather fond of her as not only a student, but as a daughter. So why wouldn’t he want to ensure no monk came to mettle in her business?

___

Raiden’s rule came with strict precautions and schedules to ensure (Y/n) would never really have to interact with the young men. I say young, because at the end of the day, (Y/n) needed someone to spar with, and Raiden couldn’t always be the one to fight her, so he permitted one of the trustworthy older monks to train with her under supervision every once and a while. Other than that, (Y/n)’s social interactions were limited to the household workers, such as the nurses.

This didn’t mean (Y/n) was oblivious to the existence of the monks around her age or younger. As the years carried on, and (Y/n) blossomed into a young woman, Raiden thought it was suitable to have her assist the children in their training. Her presence, he found, had a calming effect on the children and they quickly took a liking to her. However, this new position allowed her to see the monks around her age in passing or on the other side of the training grounds.

Still, none of them ever spoke to her outside of the casual greetings, thank you’s, and goodbyes.

___

“Do you want spar again later on today?” Liu Kang asked as he took a seat on the ground next to Kung Lao and grabbing his water.

Kung Lao ushered for him to pass the water to him. “Mmm,” He hummed thoughtfully, “We could try, but I think Master Raiden is having the younger monks use the training grounds while he’s out.”

Liu handed him the water and ran a sweaty hand through his hair. “If he’s out, then who’s leading them?”

Kung Lao took a generous sip from the bottle and placed it on the ground. “(Y/n)(L/n) is.” He answered, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“(Y/n)?” Liu furrowed his brows together in confusion. “She’s been here just as long as I have, yet I don’t believe I’ve ever held an actual conversation with her.”

Kung Lao huffed, “Good. Master would have your head if you did.”

Liu gave him a puzzled look.

“Elder god’s rule!” Kung Lao cheered with false enthusiasm, “None of us are allowed to bother her. But as you can see, she’s been placed in charge of the children, so who knows? It doesn’t seem reasonable to me, really.”

“Huh.” Liu mused. I suppose he’d gotten so accustomed to his schedule that he didn’t even notice how little he interacted with the girl. Hell, he’d completely forgotten about that dumb rule.

“She’s an interesting girl, that’s for sure,” Kung Lao continued.

Just as he said that, the door in the hallway connected to their training court opened and the girl in question emerged, making her way down the hallway.

“Speak of the devil, there she is,” Kung Lao laughed.

(Y/n) turned her head at the sound of his voice and offered them both a smile and a wave as she passed by.

Kung Lao waved back enthusiastically. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” He whispered to Liu, but Liu was too captivated to respond.

His jaw loosened and all he could do was stare at her and only her, as if he was a camera in portrait mode. The wold around her seemed to blur and the light of the sun reflecting off of her skin and clothes made it seem like she was glowing. Liu Kang took in as much detail as he could; the tilt of her head, how her hair framed her face, the curve of her smile, everything. It all seemed magnificent and surreal.

He’d seen her before, surely, but somehow in that very moment something clicked in his mind. Something deep inside him had begun to build up and bubbled it’s way around his entire body. Liu felt like he was sick, but there was no nausea and his body didn’t ache. Instead his throat felt as it had closed and his chest tingled and burned. He brought a hand up and clenched the fabric in between his pectorals. As (Y/n)’s figure disappeared into the other side of the temple, Liu exhaled sharply.

“Liu?”

Perhaps this was the first time he’d taken the time to truly look at her, and that’s why he was feeling this way.

“Liu Kang?”

Maybe he’d been too concentrated on training and improving himself.

Liu was pulled out of his thoughts by Kung Lao flicking his forehead as hard as he could.

“OW— Lao—,” He whined.

Kung Lao chuckled, “I said your name twice.”

Liu’s frown dropped, “Oh, I apologize.” His gaze fell down to his feet in embarrassment.

A sly smile tugged at the ends of Kung Lao’s mouth as he realized what was going through Liu’s head.

“As I was saying,” He cleared his throat, “She’s beautiful. Truly something special, huh?” He teased.

Liu let out a sarcastic laugh and shoved the other male playfully.

The next couple of days Liu’s infatuation with (Y/n) would only grow stronger and more visible to Kung Lao and the others around them. It was interesting to see Liu become passionate about something other than being the “chosen one” for a change. Now the question was how long would it take before he couldn’t help but approach her?

___

Another tedious lesson was over and the two friends could not have been more eager to burst out of the room down roam the halls of the temple to their rooms, but Liu and Kung Lao knew better than to display such uncultivated behavior in front of their master. Once they and the other boys had been dismissed and were out of view from Raiden, Liu began his usual tangent.

“I saw her twice after morning practice, did I tell you?” He began stretching his arms above his head, “I waved and she—,”

“I know, Liu.” Kung Lao chuckled, “You told me all of this during our lunch. I’m beginning to think you’re becoming a little... obsessed with poor (Y/n).”

Liu slapped Kung Lao’s shoulder playfully, “I’m not obsessed, I assure you. I’m just curious as to why Master Raiden won’t let us talk to her.”

Kung Lao opened the pathway to their rooms and shook his head and they continued to walk. “I’m sure he has his reasons. And besides, it’s not good to be so fixated on this when you should be focused on training, Liu.”

Liu cocked and eyebrow at his friend. “What do you mean?”

Kung Lao stopped walking and gave him and knowing look, the corners of his mouth pulling up in amusement as if he was refraining a smile. “Don’t pretend like that little slip up during sparing a day ago while (Y/n) entered happened by sheer coincidence.”

Liu huffed and turned his face away stubbornly. “I didn’t expect her to be watching. I’m not used to fighting with an audience quite yet, that’s all.”

Now that was definitely a lie. Kung Lao knew Liu Kang saw himself as the golden boy amongst their peers, and who could blame him. He was a magnificent fighter.

“If that’s what you want me to believe, then so be it.” Kung Lao flicked the other boy’s forehead, then went off to tidy himself up before bed.

It wasn’t terribly late into the evening yet, but late enough that the sun has completely gone down and most of the temple residents were already asleep. Liu followed in his cousin’s footsteps and heading towards the showers. Afterwards the two boys spent another hour or so talking and playing games together until Kang Lao finally bid Liu goodnight.

Liu stayed behind to put away their things and was about to head out for the night, but when he stepped out into the open grand hall he noticed a figure quickly hide themselves behind one of the columns in the distance. His first reaction would of been to pounce and attack the being right then and there, but he knew he’d have to deal with a lot of angry side eyed glances tomorrow if it turned out to be a false alarm. A stealthy approach was better.

The boy casually pretended as if he was entering another section of the temple and hid behind the wall until he heard feint footsteps going the opposite direction. He took this opportunity to create some distance between him and the figure, just enough that it’d be difficult for them to sense them, but still allowed Liu to follow them.

Down the grand hall, towards the back of the temple, out into the training courts, and...

Into the greenhouse?

If this was a thief, they obviously weren’t a very smart one, for nothing of value would be found in the garden, Liu thought to himself. The garden itself was nothing impressive. Just a small room that was barely the size of a large shed. It contained a collection of flowers, potted trees and herbs that the nurses kept to replenish their stock every once and a while. Liu Kang peered in from the distance behind one of the trees outlining the entrance way, and finally identified the being as the girl he’d been thinking about nearly all week.

It was (Y/n). She placed a lantern that she’d been carrying with her onto the ground and look out a match from her pocket, then crouched down beside it. Seeing as the temple was in no danger, Liu Kang turned around to leave, but the shuffle of the branches startled (Y/n). She quickly summoned her (weapon/power) and darted out of the greenhouse. In her panic, the girl executed one swift blow to the tree, which Liu ducked and narrowly dodged.

“Calm yourself! It’s just me!” Liu whisper-yelled as he revealed himself, holding his hands in front of his chest defensively.

(Y/n) unclenched her fists and allowed her arms to fall to her side. She exhaled in relief, “You— what are you...? I apologize, I shouldn’t have assumed you were an attacker.” Her gaze fell to the floor in embarrassment.

Liu shook his head, “No, no, it was my mistake! I followed you out here on false pretenses that you were a burglar.”

The girl smiled and stifled a laugh. She tilted her head slightly upward to get a better look at the young man in front of her. He was in his normal attire, with his dark hair falling just about his shoulders and framing his face and neck quite nicely. (Y/n) would’ve been tempted to stare at him a little longer if not for the predicament she was in now.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Liu Kang. You see, I’m so busy during the day— and although I know Master wouldn’t approve of it, I come out here when everyone’s alseep just to have time to myself.” She explained frantically, “I don’t— please don’t misinterpret my intentions, I was just—,”

“It’s alright, (Y/n).” Liu smiled, slightly flustered, placing a hand on her shoulder, “No need to explain yourself further. I won’t tell anyone. In fact this entire conversation is technically forbidden, mind you.”

(Y/n) was looking directly at Liu Kang now, and something about his presence was extremely calming to her.

“That’s right...” She mumbled, “You should go then, I don’t want to cause you any more inconvenience, Liu Kang.”

“Just Liu is fine.” He could feel the giddy feeling in his chest growing stronger each time she said his name. In truth, he didn’t want to leave her just yet. He glanced back at the greenhouse and spotted the perfect excuse. “But before I go,” His hand trailed down from her shoulder to her hand, and she accepted it. Liu tugged her back towards the greenhouse.

“I see that in your hurry to kill me, you’ve lost your match.” He smiled playfully at her and picked up the lantern on the floor. Letting go of her hand, he summoned a small flame and lit the wick of the candle inside. Then Liu took (Y/n)’s hands and wrapped it around the side of the glass boy firmly.

“There.” He nodded in satisfaction. “Please accept this as my apology for interrupting your evening.”

(Y/n) let out a small laugh and nodded back. “Thank you, Liu, but,” Her eyes flickered down to the lantern, then back up at him with a hint of mischief, “now that you know my secret, how will I know if you’ll actually keep it?”

“What?” Liu frowned, pretending to take offense, “Is my word not good enough? In that sense, how do I know you’re not actually a burglar?”

“I suppose we’ll just have to keep an eye of each other from now on.” (Y/n) shrugged.

The two stared at each other for a moment, then bursted into a fit of giggles. (Y/n) sighed and placed the lantern on the ground.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow then? It works for both of us. Your secret stays a secret, and I get to talk to you.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up at his words, although I doubt Liu Kang could see it with just a lantern for light. “I look forward to it then. Goodnight Liu.”

Liu placed a small kiss on the back of (Y/n)’s hand, impressed with his own boldness.

“Goodnight.”

___

Bonus:

The next morning, (Y/n) rounded up the younger monks to observe the elder ones practice. She subtly waved to both Liu Kang and Kung Lao before taking her seat behind the children. Just as a match was about to commence, Master Raiden appeared in the entrance and made his way to the center of the court. The monks exchanged confused glances until Raiden spoke.

“Alright, which of you imbeciles destroyed one of my trees?”

[gnocchighoul]

Hmm.. kind of a random thing but that's how my brain works sometimes but hear me out! The Bros (plus undatables and Luke if you want) get turned into cats. What type of cat would they be, how would mc react, and how would they react to being a cat.

I had SO much fun writing this one. Thank you for this excellent prompt 💗

This is just the demon bros getting turned into cats, but I might make a part two with the undateables! :D

~

Lucifer

Oh he’s going to be so pissed off. 

Seriously, even as a cat, his murder-death-murder-death stare is beyond intense. He will sit himself high up on furniture to glare down on everyone like the prettiest gargoyle you’ve ever seen. 

Nobody is allowed to come near him. He will swat and hiss at anyone and everyone who approaches, unless they are approaching to turn him back into a demon. 

BUT if you had nothing to do with this curse that’s fallen upon him, then he’ll probably let you near, as long as you’re not like, weird about it. Seriously, don’t baby talk at him, he’s not actually a cat.

Cat-Lucifer will probably just want to constantly stand on your shoulders and wrap his tail around your neck, which isn’t super comfortable because he’s not exactly small and dainty. 

Also, every time you say something stupid he’s gonna bite your ear lol

Tbh he’s probably going to make you carry him everywhere like that and he’s gonna control where you go -- you know, kinda like ratatouille LMAO

Mammon

You know those cats that climb literally everything and anything?

Yeah.

When he first gets turned into a cat, he freaks the fuck out. But when he finally calms down and isn’t meowing up an angry storm, he’s gonna realize that this is a great opportunity. for evil.

He's gonna book it the second he realizes that he can literally be a cat-thief.

Nothing is safe from his grabby little gremlin paws.

He steals so much shit (wallets, Asmo’s jewelry, Levi’s limited edition collectors items--anything he can carry in his mouth or drag around) and then he stashes it all in your room, because unfortunately, becoming a cat didn’t make him any smarter.

Lucifer tasks you with just sitting in your room and keeping track of everything cat-Mams steals so that you can return everything to their rightful owners.

You quickly become used to cat-Mams sauntering in and out of your room every five minutes with his newfound riches.

So it’s a bit concerning when Mams darts out of your room after stashing a wallet in his hoard, and doesn’t come back after thirty minutes.

Naturally, you go looking for him.

You’ve only been searching for about twenty minutes, when pathetic meowing reaches your ears. You follow the sound, and--

You find him stuck in a cardboard box.

(before fishing him out, you take tons of pictures. He’s very upset.)

Levi

Levi is so distraught. He’s literally going to just wail and roll around on the floor until somebody picks him up. 

He’s literally the crying cat meme.

Once he’s in your arms, do not put him down. He’s very sad and his reflexes really aren’t good. You know how you can just kinda toss cats onto the floor and they’ll land on their feet just fine?

He will not. 

Is suuuuper jumpy and only trusts you (and maybe Beel, but he’s lowkey afraid that Beel is going to eat him.) 

You should probably get him one of those bubble back-packs that cats can sit in and carry him around in that. 

He has the worst time as a cat. He just wants to play his video games :(

(But if you give him lots of smooches, it’ll make his suffering a little bit easier to deal with. But like, he’s gonna turn into an overwhelmed ragdoll when u start giving him the smooches)

Satan

Honestly? He isn’t that opposed to being a cat for a little while.

But he’s also like. So hyperactive. Goes from 0-1000 in half a second.

He’s got the zoomies.

He’s gonna parkour his way around the house of lamentation, testing how fast he can zoom, how high and far he can jump (and how far he can fall without hurting himself)

He’s gonna do a backflip off lucifer at the speed of light and then sprint away as fast as he can to go wreck some shit

If you want to hold him, you’re going to have to catch him mid-air. If he doesn’t just squirm out of your arms and actually lets you pet him, he’s gonna stare you dead in the eyes, extend his claws, and then pat your leg with his lil toe beans.

You’re not entirely sure if that means ‘keep petting me’ or ‘stop it right now’ so you just kinda scratch his ears instead

Asmo

Even as a cat he’s beautiful and everybody has to see just how pretty he is. 

He’s constantly striking poses. 

Looking back over his shoulder. Stretching his leggies out so you can see how long and lean they are. Contorting his body in the WEIRDEST ways because he’s even more flexible now.

He does not run anywhere, he struts very daintily and model-like.

He’s gonna be so affectionate. Constantly rubbing his cheeks all over you, and leaning against you, but be careful while you give him pets because if you mess up his fur he’s gonna swat your hands away.

He’s also definitely going to be really annoying and constantly walk in front of your feet and trip you up. Where are you going, why aren’t you admiring him, dammit

You know how most cats hate water?

Not asmo. 

He’s gonna make you fill the bathtub up to his chin so he can float around on his tiptoes with just the upper half of his head out of the water like a crocodile. 

Then you have to blow-dry him until he’s all nice and fluffy and give him a good brush. 

He will absolutely tolerate you dressing him up and taking pictures as long as you make him look nice. He won’t allow you to put him in stupid costumes (he’s gonna bite you when you bust out a lobster costume) but a pearl necklace? Hell yeah.

Beel

Feed him dammit, he’s starving.

Cat-Beel is going to gnaw on EVERYTHING. Furniture. Books. Clothes. Your hands and ankles. 

It’s not anxiety -- honestly he really doesn’t mind being a cat -- he’s just so hungy.

Also he’s MASSIVE. 

You don’t actually know that he’s been turned into a cat until you go to the kitchen for a snack and find an orange & white cat the size of a literal child raiding the fridge. 

Which brings me to my next point -- he’s gonna be SUCH a snuggle bug. Like those really big dogs that insist on sitting in your lap and crushing you. If he isn’t eating then he just wants to flop on top of you and crush you with his love.

You can baby-talk at him if you want, as long as you give him treats and snuggle him. 

He purrs so. Much. 

Will also let u just roll him around and do whatever you want to him dkjncdsn he’s honestly the chillest out of them all

Belphie

God he’s so fucking upset at first, like claws out, hissing and spitting at everyone, full on tantruming upset, BUT THEN. but then. You pick him up and press a kiss to his sweet little triangle head and he bleps and it's all over.

Good luck getting anything done. Cat-Belphie is going to demand your full attention for snuggles CONSTANTLY. 

No, he doesn’t care that you’re trying to research ways to turn him back, he’s gonna plop his little butt on the tome you’re attempting to read until you give him love, dammit.

Honestly, Belphie being a cat isn’t that much different from normal. The biggest difference is that now he can squeeze into weirder places to nap, which makes it very difficult to keep track of him. 

After searching for two fucking hours, you, Satan, Levi, and Beel find him stretched out across the arms of one of the chandeliers in the dining room, like it’s some kind of weird hammock. 

He’s fast asleep. Nobody knows how he got up there. 

(To get down, he ends up yeeting himself into Beel’s arms.)

If Bells isn’t napping, then he’s hiding under furniture, waiting for his next victim to walk by so he can attack their ankles.

(also the most likely to bite u when he wants your attention)

((part 2 with the undateables))

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Random Thoughts: A Dark Past

This came into mind; the Male reader is a prisoner of war and is taken back to the mainland. As usual, me and @softboy5393 fanboying over this.

I went overboard with this.

You were taken by a Titan with a long face, like a horse into its mouth. You fell unconscious during the whole time.

When you woke, you were in some room. You looked around to see where you were, you noticed you had a red armband on your left arm. 'What the... where am I?'

Then the door opened. "Ah, I see you're awake." the unknown person said along with others. He had blonde hair and an undercut style which was pushed back. [This] He also had an armband on, but his was more of a lighter red.

You took the people that walked and noticed that Reiner was there. "YOU DAMN TRAITOR!" you attacked him. You didn't do that much damage before getting pulled off of him.

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! DON'T TOUCH ME!" you yelled trying to get away from them.

"So, you're the guy that Pieck took? You island devils are sure are something." The one with blonde hair said, sitting down. Reiner was dusting himself off.

"I guess we should introduce ourselves? I'm Pieck. You already know Reiner. The one with glasses is Zeke and the one next to you is Porco." The girl- Pieck said. She had long, disheveled shoulder-length black hair, a Greek nose, and relaxed dark brown eyes.

"You probably have questions as to where you are?" you calmed down a bit to respond.

"Yes. And why am I here? Why did you take me from my home?" you said, backing away from them.

"You're in the nation of Marley. And it was Reiner's idea to take you."

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

It had been 4 years since you were captured. You've kind of gotten used to the new environment. 'So, humanity didn't die after all?'

You were shocked by the outside world. There were these flying ships in the skies, a cart that was driving without horses leading it. The food you have never seen before. A picture that was too detailed for any person to draw.

"That's a blimp, that's a car, and that's a photograph," Zeke said, showing you everything.

You also got to meet others. "That's Gabi, Falco, Sophia, and Udo. They are the next in line to inherit the Titans."

Gabi looked at you with mistrust. She had hatred in her eyes. "Don't mind her, she hates anyone from the 'Island of Devils.'" Zeke whispered into your ear.

It has taken a while for Gabi to get used to you but in due time.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

You were walking with Pieck, Reiner, and Porco in the Liberio Internment Zone. There were stands everywhere and colorful decorations everywhere. You were amazed.

"Today's the festival, M/n. Ambassadors and famous families from all over the world are going to be here for Willy's speech. Of course, since you're with us, you'll be joining too." Pieck said she was your favorite out of all of them.

"Let's go try some things. Try this." she gave you some kind of dessert with a cone?

You gave it one lick... "WHY IS IT SO COLD?!?!" you said, others were looking at you weirdly.

"What's this?" You picked some triangle-shaped food with toppings and cheese? "Mmm, this is good! I never had anything like it!"

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

You had a fun time at the festival but now it was time for Willy Tybur's speech. You sat with the others but Porco, Pieck, and Zeke were requested.

Then the sounds of instruments began to play and Willy came on stage. He bowed before starting. "Allow me to tell you a story."

(This is the entirety of Willy's speech)

"Approximately one hundred years ago, the Eldian race ruled the world with the power of the Titans."

"Between the appearance of the Founder, Ymir, and the present day, Titans have stolen the lives of so many people that the present population of the world..." showed Titans eating people. "Could die thrice over and still not compare."

Then the lights turned red, people appeared covered in blood and screaming. "Because of Titans, and an extraordinary number of races, and the cultures ad histories thereof, have been stolen from the world."

"That slaughter has defined human history and the history of the Eldian Empire. And when the Eldian Empire ran out of enemies, it turned to the killings of its own kind."

You were shocked. Was this the history of your ancestors? Were they like this?

"Thus began the Great Titan War."

"Houses holding eight Titans shed blood in combat among themselves. In these desperate times, one Marleyan saw a path to victory. He was our hero, Helos."

"By artfully waging an information war, he led the Eldian Empire's biggest threats to turn against and kill one another. By joining hands with the Tybur family, they forced the unbeatable King Fritz to flee and retreat to Paradis island." the crowd began to clap. You were awestruck.

"But even exiled to the island, the king still held power. Tens of millions of Titans are capable of crushing the world flat still slumber on that island." the crowd gasps at the revelation and fear.

"The fact that our world still exists undisturbed to this day is pure luck. That is the only explanation our Titan experts could muster up. My fatherland, Marley, decided to take the initiative against the island and sent four Titans to neutralize the threat, but that plan failed and only the Armored Titan returned."

'That's why Reiner broke down the walls.'

"In other words, the Eldian Empire, the scrounge of human history, is alive and well."

"Now, the story up to this point consists of facts known to everyone. The truth, however, differs slightly. From here on, I'll discuss the memories passed down in my family alongside the Warhammer Titan."

"The complete truth will be revealed here and now for the first time. Approximately one hundred years ago, the one who ended the Great Titan War was neither Helos nor the Tybur family." Two people standing side by side to him.

One was represented Helos and the other, the Tybur family.

"The man who brought an end to that war and saved the world was King Fritz. He came to regret the Eldian Empire's savage history and the infighting among his own people."

"Above all, he grieved for the Marleyans and the oppression they lived under. When he inherited the Founding Titan, he and the Tybur family devised a plan." The lights turned blue with King Fritz and the Tybur family shaking hands in agreement.

"To establish a single Marleyan as a hero in the war. His name: Helos. After that, King Fritz moved as many Eldians to Paradis as he could. Erecting the great walls around them."

"He left a warning if anyone threatens his peace, countless Titans would be unleashed in retaliation. However, he never intended make good on this threat." Things began to add up to you. That's why the world hates Eldians. 'I'm not what they say we are!'

He continued. "King Fritz made a vow of renouncing war and bound his successors to uphold it, just as he had. Thus his ideology was passed down to each new King of the walls and the Titans with the power to crush the world remain dormant."

"Marley didn't stop Eldia and pure luck hasn't kept the world from being crushed, it was the king of the walls, Karl Fritz, a man who yearned for peace. That's it. That's all he wanted. He said if Marley grew strong someday and came in force to shatter his peace and seize the Founding Titan, he would accept it."

"He believed the sins his people committed were so horrific that they could never be atoned for."

"When the day of retribution finally comes, I will accept it until then let me enjoy this walled paradise, free from strife and conflict. I ask for nothing but a brief span of peace."

"Those were the final words the king left us with." King Fritz stood next to Willy bowing.

The crowd erupted into chatter. "What does this mean?" Gabi was shocked to along with her friends. You were twice as shocked as they were.

"If what he saying is true..."

"So, Marley and the Tybur family didn't save the world?"

"Willy wouldn't lie..."

"That means Paradis doesn't actually pose a threat, right?"

Willy spoked, the crowd went silent. "It's true, to secure our own safety, my family joined hands with King Fritz and became heroes to the world. While our fellow Eldians became devils but plainly, we Tyburs are petty thieves, growing fat on honor we did not earn."

"I stand before you willingly parting with my false glory because I have come to understand that the world we share is in grave danger" the crowd began to chat again. The drums began to ring.

"With the Founder's might, King Fritz erected three walls, using a great host of colossal Titans..." the background changed to colossal titans conjoining arms. "Counted together, the walls surely contains tens of millions of colossal Titans."

"They guard the King's peace as his shield and his spear or they did, but now, that peace is being threatened from within. An uprising has taken place on Paradis, the king has been deposed, the Founding Titan stolen."

The background changed to a devil. "The thief is an enemy to every man, woman, and child outside his island. An enemy of peace, his name... IS EREN JAEGER." Your eyes widen...

"If the colossal of Paradis are ordered to walk, the rumbling will be felt across the Earth and death will follow. Until now, only royalty has had the power to wield the Founding Titan and King Fritz's vow has kept his descendants from using it, but this Eren Jaeger has found a way to use the founder without having royal blood."

"Which means he could begin the rumbling at any moment. Once the walls of Paradis begin to walk, there will be nothing we can do. Except flee in vain from the sound of Earth-shaking steps that will herald our doom." your face turned into a worried one. Was this going to happen?

"These monsters will crush every city, trample every tree and flower, they will literally flatten our world. I have always hated my blood and more than anyone. I have wished that my race would disappear."

Willy sounded like he gonna burst into tears. " However, I confess that I want to live. That despite everything, I believed this world is my birthright just as it is yours."

"The people gathered here may belong to different races, different nations but if we're to survive this crisis then for the first time in history, we must join as one. SO PLEASE, if you wish to live and lend me your strength, help me protect our world's future!" The cameras began to flash. The crowd erupted into cheering.

"If we work together, we can overcome any obstacle, any threat! I ask each of you to join me as I go to fight the devils who would plunge our world into hell! HELP ME DEFEAT THEM!"

The crowd continued to clap and cheer. "Here and now, as a representative of Marley's government, I send this message to the devils of Paradis!"

"CONSIDER THIS, A DECLARATION OF WAR!" As Willy said that, a Titan erupted from the building behind the stage. A Titan you knew very well.

"Eren..."