#oh i wish i wasn't art blocked so i could make new art about it

[vasira96]

it's thinking about AnnaBelle x bloodborne AU hours

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin Episode 5: "Homecoming" Breakdown

BREANNAH: I think, if Oz had it his way, I think Victor would carry on Oz's legacy. AMY: Do you think that Victor can ever see Oz as his Rex Calabrese? BREANNAH (sighs): I think that is what Oz wants. I think if Oz had it his way, by the end of this series, Victor would want to plan Oz's funeral and have a parade through the streets and be the, um AMY: The biggest parade ever? BREANNAH: The biggest parade ever. - The Penguin Podcast Episode 5

(Art by @butcherbilly)

(Episode 1) (Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 4) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

I wanna know who decided to bang up the Penguimobile so meticulously to give it the angriest, most anthropomorpic scarred face a Maserati can possibly have, on the second before it's given a Viking funeral. That thing looks like a wounded animal and I refuse to accept this was accidental.

I knew we were in for something special when it opened with "Did I ever tell of Rex Calabrese" and the Penguinmobile being burned, and then it turned out to actually be a funeral for the Penguinmobile and the history of why Oz wanted a Penguinmobile so badly, why was it so deeply important for him as a kid to dream that one day he'd get a big flashy stupid car to roll down the block with, and what burning the Penguinmobile means to him now.

"It wasn't just a car, it was a chariot. Made a kid with a bum leg feel like even he could be king." "End of an era."

"Only the good die young." Sure hope that bodes nothing terrible for Victor's future.

It is pretty funny that Oz has Tiktok installed on his phone and that this one scene confirms it exists in this universe, the jokes just kinda write themselves there.

Vic sure seems like he's rapidly getting a taste for the action, the decision he's made is bringing a fight out of him no one but Oz had ever really imagined was there. Not only is he getting comfortable with doing violence on Oz's behalf and making his own decisions, but he's gotten to a point where he's starting to actually look up to Oz, seeing him the way Oz wants to be seen.

Oh hey it's the police chief from The Batman, glad that he shows up here, especially in a context where he gets to eat shit.

I wish Eve Carlo showed up more, so far she hasn't really had too much to do although this episode definitely is the most we've seen. Someone who Oz doesn't really have much leverage with because she sees many of the cracks in his image and who's had a target on her back because of him the moment we were introduced to her, her protectiveness over the girls, the stuff mentioned in the commentary, all of that is interesting and I expect we're gonna get more elaboration regarding her down the line - it's already a big question mark whether she'll even survive the show.

"That's what I do, I fix things. That's all I ever fucking do."

I like these moments of pathetic defiance and pained regretful self-serving vulnerability that we get from Johnny Viti in this episode, with Sofia eating the scenery with the power she now holds over him even as what he reveals still very much hurts her.

The painful vulnerability of Francis nearly burning the house down while softly clutching a catcher's mitt, steeling up and joking with Victor about her bruises, and the sheer happiness and pride overflowing from her as she practically dances to the news that her son gassed an entire family to death, God what a character. She waited her whole life for these scumbags to die and die by her son's hand, it's gonna be a real gutpunch when or if she finds out the truth.

Oz doing everything he does so he can come home one day and have his mom tell him she's proud of him, and at the happiest and most prideful we've ever seen (and probably will ever see) Francis, he wasn't there to see it, and it was only because Victor spun a lie for him.

I wanna take a little aside just to highlight some of Shohreh Aghdashloo's comments regarding Nadia Maroni and her final moments, and this is probably the character I'm going to most miss because I was very interested in everything that she brought to the table, the history and the perspective that this character brings to Gotham, and what went into her creation and death.

She's coming from a huge family. She left the revolution behind. She has traveled the seven seas, she has learned a lot, and therefore she herself has been revolutionized. She's where she cannot tell the difference between right and wrong. All she's trying to do is to save her family, her husband, her son, and what's important to them. There is no right and wrong there. Which reminds me of a poem by the Persian poet Rumi, which says, "Beyond the notion of right and wrong, there is a field. Would you like to meet me there?". That's where she is standing.

Her country was invaded. Foreign occupation. Now she needs to make another country her country, and then save herself and her family. And she's willing to do everything to the point that she would even sacrifice herself for this family.

I guess when you go through a lot and do not have time to think about your doings, your past, your present, what's going to happen in the future, you're just involved with something like a snowball that comes out downhil. You really don't think properly. All you do is action, action, and what's right to do right now.

If she had been thinking thoroughly, she would have not done that - The Penguin Podcast Episode 5

‘Why does Nadia go there? She can send people to bring her son back,’” Aghdashloo says of Nadia��s characterization as an Iranian mother. “But she doesn’t, because she calls her son ‘joon,’ ‘dear,’ and she is ready to sacrifice herself for him. We can’t help it.”

Every time an Iranian mother talks to their son, their name is always followed by “joon,” or “dear.” And at the end of the conversation, it usually ends like this: “ghorbunet beram.” “I sacrifice myself for you.” Nadia literally sacrifices herself for her son. That is the best part, for me, of this scene. If she were a real mob boss, she wouldn’t get herself involved with this. But she is a housewife. She makes mistakes. That scene means so much to me. I’ve been asked, “Why does Nadia go there? She can send people to bring her son back.” But she doesn’t, because she calls her son “joon,” “dear,” and she is ready to sacrifice herself for him. Ghorbunet beram. - The Penguin’s Shohreh Aghdashloo Couldn’t Let Nadia Stay Quiet, by Roxana Hadadi,

Having established that, Jesus Christ.

Oh so that's why Shohreh Aghdashloo's name and eyes were superimposed behind the burning car the whole time in the credits, you fuckers, that's why.

The "You know my reputation?" line from the movie always took a whole different meaning with the show, but with that scene, Oz cooking a mother and her son alive while they embraced and gleefully watching it all happen, is the first time we see him deserve the reputation he boasted about, it's a real what-the-fuck moment in a way that even the stabbing in Episode 2 was not, in part because this was not necessary, and it was extremely premeditated. Oz may have done it only after the Maronis locked the door and tried to kill him, he may have done it as payback for them stealing his shrooms and trying to kill him, but he had already doused Taj in gasoline first. He likely expected Nadia to be there to retrieve him. He waited until Taj was in her arms. It's fucking vile and impossible to justify even more so than the other vile unjustifiable things Oz had done up to this point.

Extremely cool and good that, when asked if this is the worst thing Oz has done, Lauren Lefranc very quickly said No. Cool, cool cool, fun times ahead.

I highlight those excerpts where Aghdashloo discusses the character's morality because it is important to how the Maronis function differently from the Falcones, as we'll see with Sal later, but also the fact that Oz is not targeting people who are morally below him. He is not sticking it to the man by attacking the Maronis. Everything Aghdashloo describes above about Nadia's morality and decision-making aligns with how Victor and Oz function, but Nadia has more family to lose, and she respects a code that Oz wipes his ass with and actively exploits to beat them with. The Maronis still think that they can survive in this town by being strong principled gangsters, when this is a city of villains.

Something about the image of a self-pitying American gangster gleefully burning a middle-eastern family alive, under the pretense of payback but largely because he could get away with it.

"I think there's a reason that we're more interested in the life of the villains nowadays than Madame Curie or, you know, Dostoevsky, is the fact that we want to know what happens to a person that turns them from a human into a creature."

“Maybe today, where we’re standing at the junction of history, we need to get to know our villains so we know how to deal with them,” she says with a wink." -

I can't say too many of the Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul comparisons have been particularly warranted, but Oz losing his shit at daylight in a yellow/orange-lit deserted junkyard because he ruined his entire drug batch as a result of his cruel recklessness is an extremely BrBa/BCS moment, no notes.

Extreme credit to Colin Farrell that he's nonetheless able to elicit sympathy, despairing over his lifeline turned to ashes in his hands and begging Victor to get his mom somewhere safe, not even being able to name where exactly she would be, because even his mastery over the city is failing him.

Congratulations Sofia, you've risen up to the role of Batman Supervillain so fast that you even get your own Harley Quinn now

Dr.Rush is almost aggressively pathosless compared to everyone else in the show in a way that I think works for his role, that his presence is wildly uncomfortable to us in a lot of ways, and that he's even breathing speaks still to Sofia's buried need to have someone, anyone, in her corner, even a guy who was complicit in her torture.

It's easy to parse his sticking around as attraction to Sofia and I didn't quite know what to make of it, but Theo Rossi laid out a lot of very insightful commentary on the podcast regarding what he saw as the driving force of the character and those got me seeing Dr.Rush as a genuinely interesting spin on the Arkham psychologist. Even if very much not intentionally, I do think he's actually offering an interesting meditation on the broad strokes of Harley Quinn, specifically what drives an ethical-but-naive psychologist to throw themselves wholesale into submitting before the higher force-of-personality offered by a supervillain, even without being manipulated into doing so.

He, like many of us in life, was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I think that he went in with the best intentions to go into Arkham, and then he realized what Arkham was, and how horrific it was. I think, to deal with that, because someone who gives their entire life to a specific profession is kind of sheltered from real feelings, if you're dealing with other people's feelings. And I don't think he ever really explored his, in a way. So he gets this opportunity, and he sees what she has become, this butterfly. She had become something else. And he was so dying to become something else other than himself. And he had spent all these years after Arkham numbing himself and doing whatever. A lot of this came to me months after shooting (laugh).

There was a very significant part in Ep.2 where she slaps him, and what we had written in there is that he looks like he enjoyed it. It's like that he enjoyed the feeling of pain because he needed to feel something again. I think that he's become so incredibly numb to watching this horrific thing that he basically lost himself, and why he now dedicated his life to doing whatever was because he needed to rectify his soul, in a way, for what he had seen in this horrific thing.

This is someone who's lost in every single way due to the profession that they had followed, which in probably the beginning sounded like a really fantastic idea. I think that it's dedication to something and seeing now, adding on physical violence, this violence he's seeing, this true, horrific thing, and then also adding on guilt, and adding on, "Is she innocent? Am I complicit? How do I-"

And then add on his own stuff of, "I want what you have". How did you come from the depths of the worst place a human can be, to literally be thrown away, like we were just saying about Rosemary Kennedy. How do you come from there to gain your power and be fully in control? And really strut, like this peacock, where you go, "Oh my-How do I get that?". That's the superpower.

RIP in shit Johnny Viti, you died as you lived, being the idiot who thinks this is still about the money and not sending a message.

Like the other piece of shit backstabber in Sofia's life, all she needed him for was to open the door.

Extremely great incorporation of the Gigante name here, as is Sofia going to war with her mother's coat and painting her as a force too great for the Falcones to handle, assembling the final piece of the great burning self-mythology of family injustice she needs to put on a show as a Batman Villain, looking like she stepped out of the Tim Burton movies and declaring the new order everyone's gonna have to get in line with or die.

Sofia once again demonstrates the ways in which supervillains not only exist, but take over the existing orders: She arrives at the table with warpaint and fur, addressing these men as wronged underdogs like her and her mother, showing herself as a boss who will seriously and almost aggressively not screw them over for the sake of getting a cut, who will pay them ludicrously and generously if they stand by her as she chucks the royal lineage of Gotham in the trash and reaches out to their biggest enemies, as she guns down the Reasonable Businessman on the table so they can take the money caked in his brain matter - and only if they address her by her new nom-de-guerre first, of course.

Of course money is less than dogshit to her - she grew up never wanting for it, then she spend 10 years where it never mattered / actively screwed her over, and now she's single-minded on achieving vengeance and viewing money as only a necessary conversation tool - money was what Milos and Viti cared about, and that way of thinking died with them. They were the dinosaurs who thought they could out-reason or just buy out the meteor.

This is how traditional crime gets it's back broken in Gotham: the mob spent two decades with cheat codes to infinite money, and then Batman took it away, and at the moment they most needed to seriously reorganize and adjust for having limited money, the freaks they created killed them and are now taking over with equally impossible promises far more appealing to regular people, continuining the chain of dominoes that reaches all the way back to the day Thomas Wayne saved Carmine Falcone's life and kicks off why and how Gotham City becomes the place where people like the Batman and the Riddler and the Penguin exist.

It is not only the episode where Sofia comes out to the world as a supervillain, but it's the one where Oz begins doing the same, as we'll see in the end.

This new order is also part of why Sofia ultimately extends an invitation to Sal Maroni. A thing that I was not expecting about Sal, that Clancy Brown brought up as soon as he showed up on a post-episode segment, is that Sal Maroni is easily manipulated. He is the closest we've ever gotten to a classic Honorable Gangster, to a strong and silent Gary Cooper type, the Don who genuinely cares about honor and family and fairness, and he is a sucker. A dumb sucker who lost before the story began, only kept losing while in jail, who needed his wife to coach him and do the real work, and now needs Sofia, who's aiming to become an actually successful Honorable Gangster, to come in her place because he can't even avenge his family on his own.

He is not totally defenseless given the prison escape, but really the main reason he's not visibly and immediately and obviously clockable as a dumb sucker is because Clancy Brown is playing him, which fits his role as a counterpart to Carmine Falcone, Gotham's first villain The Hangman, because nobody would expect John Turturro to be the serial killer king orchestrator of everything wrong in the world. Sal is the anti-Carmine Falcone, and that's why Sofia extends him the grace of an invitation. Because he wouldn't have thrown his daughter to the wolves like that over nothing.

She knows he is right about "You Falcones eat your own", it's how she got here after all. I don't think she respects Maroni, but I think she respects every other man in Gotham even less. At least this one actually honors his word, for what good it does him, and he has just as much reason to pursue her war against Oz as she does, and in the new way of things, in this post-Batman world they live in, it is Justice and Vengeance that rule the city now.

Getting to see the horrific state Crown Point's in also goes a long way towards adding justification for Victor's decisions. That was where he lived up until Oz took him in, Squid was the most powerful person in his life up until that moment, that was the apocalyptic tragedy his beloved neighborhood had turned into. Victor has that love for Gotham and that connection to the family that died here, that the city took and he cannot accept that. That's what he shares with Oz, and with Bruce as well. Of course he couldn't leave it all behind to join Graciela in the sunset, of course he couldn't leave this city anymore than Oz or Bruce could.

Oz getting a bitter taste of his own bullshit when Eve maneuvers around his insecure temper tantrum and makes herself small so he can feel big and not endanger her any further, and he knows it - on some level he has to know she's playing him the way he plays everyone else, and he will go along with it.

Crushing stuff in that scene with Francis - Oz spinning too many plates and despairing and sinking morally and emotionally the whole episode, and then when he thinks he gets to just rest, when all he wants is to go back to his mom's arms for a beat, she shreds his heart to pieces and holds his feet to the fire so he will get back to work. Even more fucked up is that this is her doing the best she can possibly do for him at the moment, because that's how Oz gets things done. Through her negative reinforcement, when he's backed into a corner, when he's desperate and with no way out, that's when he gets miracle solutions and right now they desperately need one.

"My ma, she's what keeps me good" - even if that were even remotely true, your mom doesn't want you to be good, she wants you to win.

We're back to the shithole I raised you in and the only way we're getting out is if you become the Penguin, so be the fucking Penguin.

AND SO HE FINDS HIS OWN BATCAVE

Speaking as someone who always liked Penguin living underground as much as (maybe a little more) the Iceberg Lounge, no small part of me is happy that this one gets to do both, and that this choice of lair comes with a whole story. Oz used to play around here with his brothers, and now he's bringing along a new brother to join him down there.

Burned down to nothing but trauma and resourcefulness and the only person who hasn't given up on him, this person who's seeing him the way he wants to be seen, this kid who embodies the best of him, someone who makes this whole thing worth doing in the first place.

BREANNAH GIBSON: (on the comparison to Walter White and Jesse Pinkman) I think that's a great comparison, especially as you get into the later seasons of Breaking Bad where Walt just becomes this sort of, unrecognizable character from the pilot, and Jesse is - is sort of his moral compass. I think, in a way, Oz and Victor have a similar relationship because Oz keeps him around because he wants to mentor him, and in that way you can see that there's something good in Oz.

Like, I know that he says that his ma is good, and I think he believes that when he's saying it to Victor, but Oz would never admit that in the real situation that they're in, Victor is his moral compass here. Victor is the good in the situation, and Victor is that naive kid from the same neighborhood that Oz grew up in, that maybe Oz wants to see succeed.

And if he helps Victor succeed, he succeeds. And I think there's part of that that Oz is really enjoying about their relationship. And especially in this episode, you know, after Ep.3, Victor's all in. He came back for Oz. He saved him. He's now like, "It's the two of us, and there's nobody else." - Penguin Podcast Episode 5

Armed with these, he storms the underground to prove he can do the impossible and build an empire with two buckets.

Not just the faint last hope, but the first thing he has that's actually by his doing - not owned by the Falcones and leased to him in his role as their court jester, not something he's paying other people to let him use, something he took for himself and then grew into a whole thing.

Which is what The Penguin does - he builds and grows and takes over and expands until Batman has to deal with him. Among the Batman villains, he is the empire builder, and this is where he starts. So far he's just been fixing, now it's time to start building.

And I'll leave the final words here with @davidmann95

OZ USES THE SAME ABANDONED SUBWAY SYSTEM AS BATTINSON BECAUSE THEIR HERO/VILLAIN PARALLEL IS ROOTED IN THEIR SHARED LOVE OF GOTHAM (AS WELL AS THEIR CONNECTIONS TO THE FAMILIES THEY LOST AS CHILDREN IN THIS TAKE THAT BOTH LEAD THEM HERE), SO GOOD

we talked around it a little before but this was definitely the 'okay, fuck it, I guess I'm a supervillain now' episode

Oz, the scummy wheeling-dealing doublecrosser trying to keep all his bullshit in the air and maneuver his way into a successful partnership with anyone he can that he can eventually get on top of Someday, reaches the end of his rope

So now The Penguin has to live in his subterranean childhood trauma lair to defeat all his enemies outright by eating Gotham from the inside out with Arkham super-drugs

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

Hey, Amee!! I hope you’re doing well <3

If by any chance you’re up to it, could you please write a fic about Heist Mark being super jealous of Yancy because he and Y/N clearly seem to be into each other?? I LOVE your art and writings and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head <3 (Obviously no pressure, though!)

I'm so happy to hear you enjoy my work, thank you🥺💖 and thank you for your request! it got me out of a terrible writer's block. on that note, sorry this took quite some time, I've been in a bit of a funk of on and off general creative block, and unable to finish any writing at all for even longer. this was a pretty fun challenge! I myself view Yancy platonically so I wasn't quite sure where to go with this initially, and I had to fight every urge to just make this heist mark x y/n dfsjsjsv. that said, it did end up being more heist mark-centric than maybe you intended? in which case, I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself😔 yancy is there but very briefly haha

Don't you tell me that you never even thought, 'maybe we could run'

2,603 words | Read on AO3

‘We're all gonna be rehearsing tomorrow so youse best get some sleep.’

You nod as you close the gate to yours and Mark's shared cell, stifling a yawn.

‘Goodnight, Yancy.’

You hold each other's gaze for a moment, before he turns and heads off, a tattooed hand over the back of his neck and a sweet smile still on his face. You watch as he disappears into the outer hallway and a guard appears to lock up your cell for the evening.

Your long-time accomplice and friend stands at the edge of your vision, arms folded.

‘Having fun with your new boyfriend, buddy?’ he asks, sounding unimpressed and slightly strained.

‘Oh, shush, Mark,’ you chide, but your stomach flips at the notion.

‘Yeah… Well, while you were busy playing Broadway,’ he glances to either side of the cell outside and continues in a lowered voice, ‘I've been hard at work hatching our escape. And I'm telling you, it's foolproof.’

‘Uh huh. As foolproof as your other three failed plans? I really don't wanna get thrown in solitary again.’

‘Please, that was one time! — and I don't see you bothering to come up with any ideas. Even though you pretty much got us into this mess.’

That accusation ticks you off, but you're quick to retaliate.

‘Are you seriously still hung up on that? How is this my fault? You couldn't fly a helicopter, why would you assume I can? You shouldn't have even presented it as an option!’

Your exclamation earns you a couple looks from other inmates slowly filing into their cells for the night.

‘Nevermind that now,’ Mark says, infuriatingly placatingly, ‘do you wanna hear the plan or not?’

The thread of uncertainty that you've been avoiding coils tight in your chest and you pause, wondering how to bring up what's been nagging at you for days.

‘Um, so, I've been thinking. What if… what if we don't try to escape?’

‘Ha ha. Funny joke, pal.’

‘I'm serious, Mark. We could just… stay here and wait out our sentence, if we play it safe we might even get our time reduced on good behaviour. We could be gone in like a decade. Or a few years! Maybe. Probably. Maybe.’ Wishful thinking, perhaps.

He scoffs, as if the idea isn't even worth considering.

‘There is no way you're genuinely telling me to just wait it out. Maybe you haven't noticed since you've been in la-la land lately, but we're not on vacation, we're in prison,’ Mark spouts, voice growing thick with agitation. ‘What was supposed to be the heist of a lifetime, would've set us up for decades to come, is still on the line! And we're on a bit of a time crunch here — I don't trust that warden guy one bit with the Box, or in general,’ he sneers. ‘I mean what kind of name is Murder-Slaughter? Ugh, do we even know for sure if he still has it?’

‘Yancy mentioned seeing it in his office the last time he was there, which was earlier today, so yeah, probably.’

‘Ugh, there you go again about Yancy. It's always Yancy this, Yancy that, blah blah blah, Yancy!’

‘Wh– I was just answering your question!’

‘Y'know what? I'm sick and tired of being the only one taking this seriously while you act like it's all a big party.’

He places a hand on his hip, the other poking a finger towards you as he speaks. It would be comical, if he wasn't acting like a jerk.

‘What's up with you?’

‘What's up with me? What's up with you? You seriously wanna stay in this— this shithole, ‘cause of what? Some pretty face you've known for all of like, less than two weeks??’

‘Oh my God, Mark, it's not that terrible, and Yancy is actually my friend, he's been nothing but welcoming and kind since we got here, and—’

‘Oh, did you forget that he tried to beat you up when you first met? Real interesting, how you let that little detail slip.’

‘We just got off on the wrong foot, he's really—’

It's then that you see it — something in the slight hunch in his gait, the furrow of his brow, his pursed lips and tense jaw — and you wonder why you hadn't noticed before. It's not just anger and frustration, it's something bitter and personal.

‘Mark… are you jealous?’

Bingo. His eyes only widen a sliver, for a fraction of a second, but you're so used to reading him that even the most imperceptible of reactions on his usually very expressive face have become familiar to you.

‘Psh. I'm not jealous.’

‘You so are jealous! Oh my god, you're super duper jealous,’ you say with a grin, revelling in this new information.

‘Shut up, why would I be jealous?’ he protests, trying to sound nonchalant. But it's too late. You've already seen through it.

‘Is that what this is about?’ you say with a laugh. ‘You just want my attention back or something?’

He stares blankly for a moment.

‘Are you serious right now? You actually think the only reason I'm mad is because some random dude just waltzes in and starts acting all buddy buddy with you and you fall head-over-heels,’ he jeers with his hands either side of his face, fluttering his eyelashes mockingly. ‘Hook, line and sinker.’

‘Mark—’

‘I mean, never mind your partner, right? You know, your best friend who you've known and worked with for years? Who cares what he thinks?!’

‘Mark, I—’

‘In fact, he can get punched through a wall for all you care! You won't even bat an eye, as long as there's a random spontaneous musical number immediately afterwards, it's all in good fun!’

‘Ok, that's not fair,’ you push back. ‘Of course I was worried! But I was also surrounded by violent criminals at the time, we've been over this!’

‘Oh, so they're “violent criminals” now? But they're simply “hurt, misunderstood souls” when it suits you?!’ he shoots back, making air quotes to emphasise his point.

‘They're people, Mark! They're allowed to be… multi-faceted!’

‘Lights out, everybody,’ comes a guard's voice, ringing through the hallway as it suddenly becomes dark, save for the glow of dim lamplight emanating from one or two of the other cells.

‘Whatever, let's just get some sleep,’ Mark grumbles under his breath.

‘You always do this!’ you whisper harshly, but inadvertently let the volume slip back into your voice as you feel your blood boil. ‘You try to cut things off and act like the “bigger person” just to get out of an argument that, newsflash, YOU'RE LOSING.’

‘Oh, whatever, what-f*cking-ever!’

‘You're being so damn overdramatic, Mark! It's not like I'm trying to break up our team.’

‘Yeah, well– well maybe we should!’

You don't know why it jolts you like a gunshot when he says it, but it does. His words, the force and resentment behind them, pierce you to your core. It stops any quick-fire response you had at the ready in its tracks.

Regret immediately flashes across his face, but he quickly attempts to cover it with a steely, hardened gaze. ‘Clearly, we want different things. So maybe it's for the best.’

‘Hey!’ one of the guards calls out from across the hall. ‘Lights out means quiet, you two. Don't make us separate you into different cells.’

With a frustrated huff, you reluctantly traipse off to bed, yours being the lower half of the bunk while Mark settles above you.

It really is a rather decent bed. The mattress is nothing special, but comfortable, and the soft blanket is accompanied by an oddly luxurious, fluffy pillow. Definitely above what you'd expect is probably average prison standards. Frankly, you don't know what Mark's problem is with this place. It's honestly not half bad. As far as you expect jails go, it surely could be a lot worse.

You lay back and let your breathing even out, trying your best to allow some of the bubbling anger to die down. Eventually, you hear the guards leave.

Time passes, it could be minutes or hours; it's not like the passage of time has felt right at all to you since that last heist.

It's silent, save for the sound of your breaths and Mark's above you. You're still upset with him, but the sound of him breathing nearby has always been oddly comforting. The two of you have had plenty of close calls as a pair — even times when you had to patch each other up after jobs that went particularly badly. If you got injured on a heist, you couldn't simply call an ambulance or show up at a hospital in an emergency and risk having your whole operation blown. That was simply the nature of your line of work.

At the worst of times, as long as you could hear those steady, even breaths, you could tell yourself he would pull through, and things would be fine.

You idly watch the mattress above you, letting the rhythm of your friend's breathing become a gentle white noise, and think.

You think about that heist and the Box. Ancient, coveted, mysterious. Sitting atop its perch in the museum vault, in all its glory and allure, practically asking to be stolen. The gleam of the gem encrusted in its surface. You wonder if the prize held within would be worth all of this, if you managed to get it back.

You think about Yancy, a little rough and a little troubled and not seeing much point in trying to kick old habits; but fun and soft and sensitive and full of remorse. You think about the feeling of your hand in his when you practise a routine with him, how his whole face lights up when he's excited or falls when he's sad or pensive. You think about how he has made this penitentiary into a home, and these inmates into a family.

You think about Mark. Silly, stupid, steadfast Mark, snarky and thoughtful and loyal. Who isn't actually as dumb as he lets on. Who is resourceful and quick-thinking when a plan needs to be formed. Who makes bad puns and trusts you whole-heartedly, and who always lets you decide which course of action to take, no matter how much he disagrees, simply due to his unwavering faith in you. Mark, your co-worker, your friend, your partner in crime. Who is maybe a little enamoured with you, despite you trying to ignore it. Who you half-heartedly agreed to go on a date with, not having it in you to turn him down, nor prepared for the guilt that would be eating away at you now.

You think about one of the first things he told you when you landed yourselves at Happy Trails: About how he doesn't belong here, but maybe you do. What if he were to leave and you were to stay? The thought breaks your heart a little.

Then, a whisper from above into the quiet, gently interrupting your thoughts.

‘Hey, you still awake?’

‘...Yeah.’

You hear his voice, soft-spoken, but clear enough that you can hear the sincerity laced into it.

‘I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so worked up.’

‘Yeah, I'm sorry too,’ you reply, matching his volume.

‘And I didn't mean it,’ he says, and you think you hear the slightest tremble in the statement, almost as if he's fighting tears, and for a second you wish you could see his face, ‘what I said before, about uh, splitting up. I know I joke about that kind of thing all the time, and not coming back for you… But you know I don't really mean it, right?’

You've certainly had your doubts in the past, but those moments seem so far away now; footnotes in a slowly unfolding tale, stepping stones on the journey the pair of you have taken together as you worked your way from theft to theft to get to this point. As much as you'd butt heads over the years, you could always count on each other and you always stuck together.

‘Right?’

‘Yeah, I know…’

‘...And, alright, your lack of interest in breaking out aside, maybe I am kinda jealous.’

‘Ha! I knew it.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He sighs. ‘It's just… it took us a while to be like we are now and yet, you're suddenly so close to him when it hasn't even been that long, it just doesn't feel fair. I dunno, it's stupid.’

‘Nah, I get it. I'm sorry if I made you feel left behind.

‘And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel pressured into something you're actually just not all that into.’

You feel a bit of tension leave your chest as a small smile appears on your face. ‘I appreciate that.’

In some ways you're grateful for the small bed separating you and preventing you from being face to face. You think it makes this easier for both of you.

‘I don't want to lose you, y'know? I mean, we're supposed to be partners. Ride or die, remember?’

‘Oh, Mark… You know I still trust you with my life…’ You pause, considering your words. ‘For the first time in ages, things feel a little more complicated than just being about us.’

A beat, then you hear him inhale, and he says your name, foregoing any of his usual nicknames.

‘...Are you… happy here? Does he make you happy?’

‘There's things I miss about freedom, sure, but it's not so bad here. And let's face it, our crimes were probably gonna catch up to us eventually, one way or another, right? And Yancy…’ You let out the smallest huff of laughter, smiling to yourself once again. ‘You're right, it hasn't been very long… There's just something about him, I guess. I know he might be a little much at times but I enjoy being around him, and he honestly seems like he wants to make up for things he's done in the past by being here. Maybe nothing will come of this but even so, in a weird way, he kind of makes me want to do better?’

Mark breathes a good-natured huff of laughter as well, and the two of you take a moment to muse on the irony of that sentiment.

‘I just– I can't handle being stuck here,’ he finally says. ‘But you're right, nothing I've tried so far has worked, anyway.’

‘Y'know… Yancy knows all the ins and outs of this place. He could probably help us if we wanted it.’

‘Do you want it?’

Do you want to leave or stay? The real question beneath it all.

You're quiet again, and it feels as if every possibility is laid out before you, only obscured.

‘I don't know,’ you say eventually. ‘I need more time to think. I just don't want you to think I'm making a choice between you or him, there's so many other things I need to consider. That we need to consider.’

‘That's fair… Just don't take too long, ok? Not like we can pause or rewind time, haha.’

‘Right… In the meantime, could you at least try to get along with Yancy and the others? You might like them if you give them a chance.’

‘... Fine, I'll try,’ he acquiesces.

You raise a hand to your mouth to cover a yawn. A far more comfortable silence falls over the room, and you start to feel sleep overtake you.

‘... Hey, Mark?’

‘Yeah?’

‘We're still partners.’

If nothing else, you hope this will reassure him.

‘...Ok. Sweet dreams, partner.’

[kikuism]

hello mariam!! 💕💖 it fills me with joy when you reblog things from me and i can see the little 'kou' or 'kaname' or 'kiku' tag. they are like old friends to me. how are they doing? and how is your writing going?? i know we both share much less of it (or none of it) on tumblr these days but i hope it's going well. give your ocs a little kiss for me mwah <3

jenna your messages always make me smile 💗💓💞 i always think it's funny how i've done a complete 180 with regards to my writing....i wouldn't shut up about it, and now it’s become absolutely private and personal to me, and the thought of sharing it now feels like it would take a huge leap of faith. but i'm still writing, writing a lot ... with the same old struggles. i wish i wasn't so hard on myself, but that just means i've grown in my skills. still, i wish i could just write freely and without abandon and not pick it apart afterward.

i rotate between kiku kou and kaname all the time!! i literally feel kiku and kou growing up with me, they've been with me for so long....lately i've put them in the taisho era bc it's a fascinating time period in regard to the fusion between eastern and western culture that was flourishing (and causing a lot of anxieties) in the country. i also really love the aesthetics/fashion of this period. kiku and naomi are aloof listless heirs in their huge sprawling estate etc. they just don't really know what to do with themselves. then one afternoon new household staff arrives in the form of a blind boy....

one thing i found really interesting during my research was this concept of 'feminized' masculinity in regards to the increased consumerism and consumption of western culture and aesthetics that was happening in this era; the adoption of western material culture was 'showy' and superficial and therefore it was feminized. contrasted with this more rugged notion of masculinity that rejected everything western and was upheld by conforming to traditional values like devotion to the nation. these two representations of masculinity constituted differing responses to the problem of modernity. the fear that the nation was becoming emasculated in the wake of foreign influence is one i hadn't heard of before...it all comes down to a fear of losing one's identity in the wake of change. can you still maintain a sense of self while evolving into something new? i thought to parallel this change happening on a smaller more personal scale to kou entering the confines of kiku’s home and the feelings he arouses in him. he's puzzled and intrigued and attracted all at once. although his family embraces modern sensibilities in terms of dress and art, it's really just for appearances sake, because at this time it was still mainly the wealthy who could afford these types of clothes and luxuries. on the inside they are quite a traditional family, so there's that tension as well. i also read a little about how servants were portrayed in the literature of this time period, and how in this shared space master and servant sometimes crossed boundaries especially in the way these modern homes were constructed.

oh and kaname!! so much has changed. the assassin plotline has kind of dropped completely......it's not at all what i'm focusing on right now. i've discovered a lot about her through backstory and it's basically all i write now. it's crazy....i felt blocked for so so long with her, but all i had to do was focus on another aspect of her and then the words started pouring out. in this wip i focus on the tensions between those who are living on the fringes of society and the 'normal' people inside, no matter how frugally they might be living. kaname belongs to the former. there was a class of people in the edo period called eta who engaged in professions related to death, blood and the handling of corpses and were therefore considered defiled and unclean by the rest of society and all their work was confined to the outskirts of the villages and neighborhoods. they weren't allowed in these places unless it was to beg and only then at certain times. they were severely ostracized and had to adhere to strict rules regarding almost every aspect from their life, from the way they dressed to who they married, and an eta was considered 1/6th of a regular person. it's .... really hard to do research on the eta bc there don't seem to be that many records from that time and often i need really specific information like what the inside of their huts looked like 😭 i need information on these eta villages and what they were like. kaname works in leather making, particularly skinning hides. she's living a rather numb, listless life and her only solace comes from sneaking off and standing on the great ryogoku bridge that connects her world to the lively world of the other side, where people wear different colored kimono and eat real food and seem to live actual lives. her only friend is a sickly girl named nana who lives deeper in the eta village but who spends her evenings with her after her work drinking tea and eating the slurry of grains that make up their supper.

nana seems content with life, but kaname is restless. she really wants to eat the food she sees being sold at stalls in the village on the other side of the bridge. i love kaname and nana, they're literally 🌑 and��️.

nana loves taking care of her and kaname is like. ew. stop that. but she tries to do whatever she can to make nana happy bc her smile and laugh soothe her :') not that she examines these emotions too closely or anything. one night during the summer fireworks festival, one of the times when the eta are permitted to enter the inner village, they both go to sell handmade dolls and other paraphernalia in the hopes of getting some alms. but the night ends badly, and that's when kaname's story really starts....

so that's where i am with my writing! it's so hard but it's so fun. the light of my life. and omg i finally posted some kaname stuff 🫣

[brightsuzaku]

shipping? yeah you can ship that,

hi, effortless textpost here, but

sometimes i think one of the ways i generally avoid shipping discourse or ship wars within fandoms is mostly by being a multishipper

you can ship these characters with anyone! i don't have to always like it, though there are many pairings and throuples, and polycules i enjoy a lot, but also there are ones i don't always enjoy or like, and... it's fine!

if it makes someone else happy or it entertains them, then that's a fine and okay ship! I DO NOT ATTACH MORALITY TO SHIPPING BECAUSE A MAJOR PART OF IT IS ENTERTAINMENT.

I had a wild time in college discussing crack pairings and strange ship ideas with friends, and it was specifically because it was entertaining to think about, and not because we had any serious attachment to whether these characters "ought to be together" or something. I have shipping goggles and have used them for good, and warned a friend about their writing, "you better watch out, this sounds like an implied ship that you REALLY ARE NOT INTENDING," before.

Anyway, back then, I didn't even ship in hopes that a ship ought to be canon, as much of the fun was ships and pairings not being canon at all. Then, we could break other rules about how that would go, without any expectation that the author would actually put these characters from two different left fields together, AND IT WAS FUN.

The blessed thing about being a multishipper is also that I, implicitly, am fine with not shipping a given character to another, either. lIKE, "Oh, you don't actually ship Sherlock Holmes with anyone because you consider him aroace? Go ahead!!!!"

Heck, you don't even have to come out and defend your ships with me. This is a no-judgement zone. Yeah, some stuff miGht make me uncomfortable, but there's been plenty of characters I don't ship, and other character ships that I don't want to ship, but I see the kernel of why they get shipped, and I'm like, "dang, you're having a good time over there".

I am not even annoyed about shipping in general, I am old and tired. I have lived through the flame wars of the early 2000s internet and have been aware of even older ones of times past. It's fine. I don't mess with it.

This was supposed to be a really short post, but then it got out of hand.

Much of the thrill of shipping is first the entertainment of it, and then the rest is the romance and the character exploration. Heck, I have seen ace pairings before, and you know what? That's the coolest thing ever!

I get why some people don't want to see specific ships tagged with their art: it is very tiring if you have a strong aversion to a certain specific ship, or just find its fans annoying, or just dislike a certain type of ship, and so on. That's fine!!!

I'm not one of those people, I actually like discovering new ships, lol. But, there is nothing wrong with traversing fandom on your own terms! And ,if that means blocking ships you don't wanna see, or putting a "please don't tag" in the text, then that's all OK, too!

I would say that shipping is a part of fandom, it's been there for a long time! And while I so strongly" wish it could be wholly fun again", I know that it wasn't always fun even in the past, either. The flame wars existed back then, and they will continue, too.

But shipping isn't the only way to play with a story or tis characters, and not shipping characters is great, too!

I am always down to see more about characters that aren't romantically or sexually with each other, too!

TL;DR, hi I am a multishipper, and I like shipping in general, because it's fun. Even the ships I think are uncomfy, or ones I don't really jibe with, well: someone else likes it, and I'm not them, so that's OK! You can ship characters and you can not ship characters. All of that is fine! I think multishipping includes choosing not to have a pairing, and that is good, too.

This post is not about when people "take it too far". You gotta learn to make your own boundaries and make use of working within your own boundaries too. I promise you, teenagers have been joking about boy band members dating each other since probably forever. 90% of the time or something, it's not actually that gross, people just do this for fun. People generally start shipping characters (or people, lol) primarily because it's fun.

Yes, I turned off reblogs in advance.

[sdyuteiaok]

Ok, liking this Saturated Crayon brush for a sketcher. In Draft news, opened another Rhino, though I already had a playset from the anthology, so that's back to back drafts with Siegie, but unfortunately only got to three wins this time since I had just absolutely mediocre cards otherwise. I wound up splashing black and red and being mainly green white, which is already a red flag, since you don't want to be core in the allied colors, but I just wasn't seeing good gold cards, or enemy duals. I did pick up an on-color fetch, though, so we're making progress where it really counts, I suppose. I had an equal splash for black and red, since my incidental duals I could get made them essentially free. The only tough spot, which I anticipated encountering, was my Rite of the Serpent, which is double black, but I had to rely on it being so expensive to buy me time to get the second black source. As feared, there was one game or maybe even two where it was stuck in my hand, but fortunately one time I was able to pitch it to a discard effect. But this was the long-feared draft where I actually had less than 23 playables! It finally happened--so far, I've just squeaked by and gotten just enough picks by the time I enter deckbuilding, but this time I was definitely a couple cards short, so I happily ran 18 lands, which is the norm this format anyway, but I also tossed in a red splash morph--maybe I coulda gone for broke and played a straight-up red card, since I might as well have a potential game swinger, but I went with the 5/2 red over the "lil' guys can't block, raid: get a counter 2/1" girl. Maybe I coulda gone with my all must block green spell, but, like I said, my creatures weren't really formidable, pun unintended--I was mainly pecking away in the skies on the backs of my 2/1 free flips, as well as my outlasters stalling the ground and Parapet performing both of those roles. So we were definitely a card or two short of something we could have turned into at least 5 wins, but our card quality just wasn't there, so it was all about salvaging, and 3-3 is acceptable in that case. I see there are some new bundles in the store and I'd love to be able to get rid of my hideous default snow lands, but they're a little pricey, and I'd prefer to use my gold to draft if my gem count ever gets too low. But man, the default snow lands are mostly quite ugly, and I wish I didn't have to see them. The full arts they have up now aren't the best, but they're certainly upgrades. But I also want to get the LOTR alt art bundle, so that's a chunk of change all together, so hopefully I can keep on the gem side of drafting while I accumulate some Gs. Oh, the manland bundle would also be nice, but maybe only one or two of those are actual art upgrades, and a couple are even downgrades...so less bummed to miss that bundle, all things considered. Just gotta win more.

[28-changes]

This is me pouring my heart out.

I warned you.

I usually process feelings by not processing them at all. I know it's not healthy but I swear I thought I was so so so strong because I could so easily move on, and then I went to therapy and I had my "oh...oh" moment. Turns out I'm a fucking coward. (I'm not a coward, I've been raised in a home where we always repressed our feelings, but that's a talk for another dramic post)

The thing is, when I say I do not process feelings, I mean I don't talk about, don't come near it, I block people out of my life so I won't have deal with the feelings and I bury it all so deep in my chest that I forget the issue existed in the first place.

But I'm facing a real problem. I'm in love. I'm so deeply in love for her that if she asked me to come back to her I would be back faster than a lightening. If she asked me to travel another 6 hours just to be with her again, I would. I want to make her laugh again, I want to hold her hand again, I want to kiss her again, I want to hug her again and I would give a lot for that.

But, we broke up (and we weren't dating at all, we were just knowing each other better.) and it was because of me. I don't know how to talk about my feelings and I don't know how to deal with my happiness, so I screwed it up. I did the one thing she asked me not to do.

We broke up I repressed it, she needed to stay away because of her personal life and was all good because she just wasn't here. I didn't need to block here, I didn't need to get away, in fact I promised her I wouldn't.

So she went away, I repressed it all, I stopped talking about it, I deleted the playlists I had made for her, I forgot our pictures together, I archived our messages. It was all fun and games, I started seeing other people, I started writing new fanfic, I was at my best. I felt unstoppable! And then...she came back.

She came back as a friend, she sends me things that she knows I like, we talk about music, art, life and all of the sudden, everything I repressed hitted me right in my face. I didn't got over her, I just stopped looking at the feeling.

I can't block her from my life because I won't do her wrong again, she asked me to stay as her friend and here I am. But I just...oh, god, I wish she missed me the way I miss her.

And now I just don't know what to do other than love her. I'm trying to be her friend, which means I'm doing my best to pretend none of this hurts.

But it does.

[digitalfairyyy]

Never Letting You Out Of My Sight

<><><><><>

Summary: Fighting for the butcher army has its pros and its cons

Warnings: angst with some fluff sprinkled in, mentions of blood, hinted past abuse, choking, flinching

Pronouns: genderneutral

Note: I might write another part to this but who knows

<><><><><>

Art by Jessica Oyhenart

<><><><><>

The stars twinkled in the sky while you stood at your chest, organizing your supplies, pictures of ham and bacon hanging on the walls reminding you of the task at hand; to kill Technoblade. To get revenge for what happened to L'Manberg. You were no more than a nurse for the butcher army, and sometimes a guard, that's currently what you were doing. You had been given the task to watch Phil while the others go find Techno.

Glancing over at where Phil was sitting on house arrest, you picked up a shiny red apple from the chest and made your way to Phil's house. With a quiet knock, Phil was at the door staring at you. You held out the apple to him while he stared at you as if you were insane.

"Take this as my apology to what the Butcher army did to your home, I know an apple isn't a great payment for all the damages but you seemed hungry so," Phil's wings folded back behind him as he reached for the apple in your palm. He thanked you for the apple as he took a bite out of it, "I've never seen Quackity like this, I knew he wanted Techno to pay but not like this."

Philza's eyes narrowed looking at you, "so why are you helping him? Quackity doesn't deserve anything, he's a psychopath. You can find a better friend than that, mate."

You stiffled a laugh with your sleeve making Philza cock his eyebrow at you, "oh sorry, just reminds me of something that an old... friend of mine used to say."

"You stopped yourself before you said friend, what's up with that mate?" Phil questioned, finishing the apple and tossing it behind him into the garbage.

"Just hurts to remember that's all," you didn't want to admit the truth, besides it had been so long, he probably forgot all about you at this point, "it's been so long, you think he even remembers me? It's been such a long time."

"Hey cheer up mate," Philza wrapped one of his wings around you, "here I'll make a deal with you. Help me out of here and save Techno and I'll help reunite you and this friend of yours."

Your eyes widened, nervousness hiding behind your eyes as you felt compelled to agree. Phil smiled at you looking around his chest before pulling out a creeper and a skeleton head, tossing you the skeleton head.

"How are you supposed to leave with those?" Philza looked down at his feet where you were pointing. The iron boots keeping him on house arrest keeping him in place.

"Thinking still about that," Philza looked back at the you, his eyes showing concentration but also worry, "at least Techno knows, I got one of my crows to send him a letter. It's gonna take them a while to get all the way to him, he has time to prepare himself." Phil smiled to himself staring at the creeper head, "we're gonna fucking tail them. I know where Techno lives, with or without a compass, I know."

"But the boots."

Phil let out a breath looking at you, "not like there's a tracker in them, they just can't know I left the house. We can hide in plain sight."

<><><><><>

It was about a few hours long of a journey making your way through the snow, the skeleton head proving to be quite the annoyance as you and Phil hid in the bushes staring at Techno's house where the group had formed. They seemed to be arguing with a ghost who kept switching from going inside and outside.

Than you saw him, Techno standing on his porch staring down at the butcher army and the ghost. He looked the same as he always did, a few new scars but nothing too noticeable. He still wore the robe you had made him, it brought a smile to your face seeing how regal he still looked wearing it.

The ghost seemed to notice you and Phil, waving over at you two while Phil tried to silently signal him to stop. Phil tapping on your shoulder to move to a less visible spot while you two easedropped on the conversation. The ghost continued to float over to you two, waving at Phil and giving him a piece of stake while Phil stayed silent.

Techno started to sprint in your direction as Quackity caught him explaining that he had to come with them.

"Techno isn't allowed in L'Manberg?" the ghost said with a quiet cry, apart of you felt bad for him, he seemed so confused and not able to understand the severity of the scene right now.

It was silent.

"I choose blood!" Techno yelled as he smashed potions onto the ground, making it difficult for you and Phil to see the action. All you could hear was Tubbo, Fundy, and Ranboo's screams while Quackity was trying to get a hold of the situation.

"Big Q do something! Big Q!!" Tubbo yelled, blocking Techno's axe with his shield being an inch from his face, "Big Q!"

"Stop!" Quackity yelled, he was riding what seemed to be a horse. You remembered that horse, it was the same horse that Techno used to go riding with you on. Carl you remembered his name was, the most important thing in the world to Techno was that horse.

Techno looked away from where he had Tubbo trapped, his eyes widening seeing Quackity holding Carl, "get away from that horse Quackity!"

"Drop everything, or I will kill this horse right in front of you," Quackity's eyes narrowed. Techno seemed conflicted before he dropped his axe, his armor, his robe, and his crown, allowing Fundy and Tubbo to restrain him.

Phil grabbed your arm pulling you with him, "come on, we have to get there before they do."

<><><><><>

Sitting in the seats like you were told to do when they returned, you waited for Technoblade's execution. The cage open for Techno's place and the anvil waiting to be dropped. Carl was tied to the fence by the dock while you watched Techno be shoved into the cage.

"When I hit that lever over there it is gonna drop and that anvil up there will kill you," Quackity explained while Techno looked up at the anvil hanging above him.

Tubbo made his way over to his stand where he would read Techno's rights before the execution. Tubbo fixed the mic to his height before speaking, "Technoblade has robbed our country of everything that made it special, everything that defined what it was. He stepped in when he shouldn't have. He created chaos, he ruined the government-"

Suddenly an enderpearl was thrown and Punz had appeared smashing potions on the ground before attacking. He dropped tnt on the ground that was quickly picked up before he started to attack the butcher army. You ran out of your spot towards Phil's house which had been boarded up once more.

"Technoblade," the ghost smiled looking up at the piglin hybrid, a blue sheep following him, "I've named him Friend."

"Hello Ghostbur," Techno said in his usual monotone voice, grabbing onto the bars of the cage, "that's fantastic Ghostbur, I'm about to die Ghostbur."

"Fuck it fuck it I'm pulling this lever," Quackity ran over to where the lever was, Techno understandable being confused as he tried to escape the cage. Phil pulling out his bow to try to stop them before Quackity pulled the lever.

It was like slow motion, your back was pressed against Phil's boarded up door as you watched the anvil fall. Techno staring up at the anvil that was coming closer and closer to crushing him. Ghostbur looking confused of the situation, not able to understand. Phil looking away not able to bare staring at his friend die.

But than he didn't...

Instead he jumped ontop of the anvil and out of the cage. Running over to Carl and jumping onto the horse's back riding away.

<><><><><>

You weren't sure what you were supposed to say. You were sitting in front of Quackity stitching up his face while he sat in silence, occasionally tensing up in pain from the needle piercing his skin. You sort of blamed yourself for what happened to Quackity even though it was Techno's pickaxe that did this.

It was a deep cut too, you knew his right eye would never work again from how it had glossed over into a pure white and Quackity had mentioned his vision going blurry in that eye. Once you were done stitching it up, Quackity looked up at you, "so when did you plan to tell me?"

"Tell you what?" you questioned standing up and putting your stuff away, sorting your potions. You really hoped Quackity wasn't hinting at what you think he was.

"About you and Technoblade..." Quackity's eyes narrowed at you when you froze, your fingers tapping on your table, "how you two used to be old buddy buddies? How you helped Philza escape? How you're only helping me because you think I'm gonna hurt Tubbo or Ranboo? Maybe how you fucking love Techno?!" By this point, Quackity had stood up and was right in front of you, you gulping seeing the anger showing in Quackity's eye. It reminded you how Schlatt used to treat you when you worked for him.

"Quackity I--"

"I bet you're so fucking happy to see me like this huh?" Quackity's hand flew its way to your throat, crushing your throat under his hand, "in fucking pain, only having one good eye left, huh? Was this all some kind of joke to you? Did I ever truly mean anything to you because I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe my friendship meant nothing? Bet your fucking terrified now."

You gasped for air, trying to push on Quackity's chest to get him to let go feeling yourself lose consiousness.

"I wish Schlatt fucking killed you in the van," Quackity let go of you pushing you down onto the ground, "get out of L'Manberg, I don't want to see your face in this town again or I will not hesitate to execute you and I won't fail this time at it either."

"But my stuff," you said once you regained air in your lungs.

"Not your stuff anymore, you're on your fucking own now," Quackity opened the door, "you have 10 minutes, I better not see your face again."

<><><><><>

With nowhere else to go, you decided to say hello to an old friend. You were absolutely freezing out here with absolutely nothing to defend yourself. You could only hope that he would want to see you or even remember you and all the times you two shared in the past. You felt like you were gonna turn into ice if you were outside for any longer as you knocked on the door.

But the door never opened and eventually you fell asleep, curled up on the porch by the door. You were slipping in and out of consiousness, you'd end up asleep for a few minutes than out again, falling asleep seemed to be the only thing that kept you warm.

Waking back up, you felt your vision be blurry and your head starting to spin. You couldn't even feel your limbs trying to hold onto your shaking cold body as you slowly felt yourself lose consiousness again.

In your frozen state, you felt a pair of arms pick you up, "it's okay I got you, come on come on, you're gonna be okay." You felt something heavy be wrapped around you and heard the door be opened, "come on, we need a fire. Y/N will freeze to death."

"We need to get them warm," you heard the ghost you had seen before say with the sound of a sheep being heard in response.

You felt yourself be dropped gently onto the ground in front of a fireplace, feeling the soft feel of wool curling up behind you along with the heavy robe.

"Will they be okay Techno?" Ghostbur asked the piglin hybrid who was staring down at you. Why had you come all the way out here? Especially at night and during a storm? That was practically a death sentence. He had no clue what would have happened and what he would have done if he was just a few minutes late, "Techno?"

"Go to bed Ghostbur," Techno said kneeling down onto the floor where you were in front of the fireplace curled up in Friend's wool.

"But ghosts don't sleep."

"Just give me some time alone, go play with Steve," Techno was trying to make up any kind of excuse he could to get a few minutes alone to himself to think. Ghostbur understood that he was not wanted right now and sadly nodded moving to outside where Steve was to give the bear company.

Techno looked down at you, his hand hesitantly going to your hair brushing the few strands you had in front of your face out of the way. He had missed you but knew that the separation was for your own safety but now he wasn't so sure being separated was the safest choice now.

Techno's eyes narrowed in curiosity looking at your neck, it'd almost seemed to be bruised as his eyebrows furrowed. He didn't want to assume anything so he decided to ask when you would wake as he smiles to himself, "I am not gonna lose you again."

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You woke up warm and feeling safe, a feeling you hadn't felt for a very long time. Your eyes fluttered open to seeing a blue sheep curled up against you and a polar bear on your other side, his head resting in your lap. The fire place in front of you was still burning brightly as you heard the sound of humming coming from the other room. You pulled yourself off the ground waking up the blue sheep who let out a baa following you.

You entered the other room where the humming was coming from and you were tackled in a hug by the ghost you had met. He smiled clinging to you.

"You're alive! You're alive! I don't even know you but you're alive!" Ghostbur laughed clinging onto you. You laughed hugging the ghost back. You looked over at the corner of the room over Ghostbur's shoulder noticing Techno sitting at a table, a book in his hands and glasses on the bridge of his nose, his tusks peaking out of his lips like usual.

"Morning," Techno said with his usual monotone voice marking the page in his book and take his glasses off. Ghostbur let go of you as you made your way over to the table sitting down, Techno's robe still over your shoulders, "you look very nice in my robe I must say."

"Thank you for saving my life," Techno nodded sliding a plate of potatoes over to you as you stiffled a laugh, "you still obsessed with potatoes huh?"

"Eh," Techno shrugged as Ghostbur skipped outside with Friend following him. Techno watched the door close, finally knowing Ghostbur was out of earshot he looked at you in all seriousness, "who put their hands on you."

You were caught off guard by Techno's question, looking at him, his eyes scanning your entire face trying to read your emotions, "no one, I just had a run in with some mobs, that's all."

"Oh so you're trying to tell me that a creeper grabbed you by the throat as such a rough grip to bruise? Come on Y/N, I've known you for how long and you think I'll fall for something like that?" it was obvious you couldn't just lie to Techno but at the same time, lying would cause less blood shed, "besides you wouldn't just run out of L'Manberg like that and almost have yourself killed if everything was fine, just spit it out."

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"Because the person that I love just comes to my house out of nowhere after completely disappearing for a long time and almost dies at my door step and then I find bruises on their neck like someone had strangled them?!" Techno yelled catching you off guard. You had never seen Techno so mad at you before, sure you two had arguments in the past but this was different, he never raised his voice at you before.

Techno raised his hand to run his hand through his hair to calm himself down, however when you flinched seeing his hand go up, he froze. His hands dropping to his sides as he got up from the table and grabbed his axe before walking out the door.

You looked down at your hands, you didn't mean to flinch, it just happened, you didn't mean to scare him like that. You sighed dropping your face into your hands as you silently cried into your hands feeling Steve lay his head on your lap looking up at you.

"I gotta go boy," you scratched behind Steve's ear as you got off the chair, Steve following behind you as you went to the door, "no you have to stay here boy." Opening the door, you closed it before Steve could come out as you watched the bear jump up and look through the window of the door as you walked out.

The snow crunched under your feet as you started to walk away. You were meant to be alone. You thought coming back to Techno would make things better but all you did was make him think that you were scared of him.

You kept walking till you noticed less and less snow and noticed you were in a flower field. Your tears started to drop more as you looked at the flowers, it reminded you of the times you and Techno would spend in the flower fields together. You would sit in the grass picking flowers for different decor and dyes while Techno would tell stories of Greek mythology or his war stories. It didn't matter how many times you heard the same story, you loved to hear them everytime.

"Thought you might have wandered off to here," you vision snapped turning around to see Techno. He was just wearing his white button up, the first three button undone, his hair in a new braid. You remembered that you were the one that always braided his hair until you taught him to.

"Tech, I'm sorry-"

"Hush," Techno held up his hand moving over to you, his body towering over yours, "just tell me, please."

You looked down at the ground as Techno sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you into his chest. You clung to his body as you felt the tears starting to well in your eyes, "it was Quackity. He found out about us and then he attacked me after I helped him treat that scar you gave him."

You felt Techno tense, "I wish I could kill that duck. I can't believe he'd put his hands on you like that."

"It's not the first time," you sighed out, hiding your face in Techno's chest. Techno asked you what you meant as you bit your lip, "during the L'Manberg war for independence, Dream had grabbed me when the van exploded and held me hostage for a few weeks until I got saved after L'Manberg became independant. Than I ended up working for Schlatt for a while when Wilbur and Tommy were exiled, I guess they never told you. Schlatt treated both me, Niki, and Quackity awfully, he taxed Niki till she was bankrupt, he would yell and shame Quackity, and then he'd grab me. It was worse when he found out I had opened the gates for Wilbur to get in Manberg, he almost killed me in a drunk rage inside the van. Than well, you know Quackity."

Techno sighed, "Y/N look at me."

You shook your head hiding your face in Techno's chest until he grabbed your chin making you look up at him.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

"I love you," you held onto Techno's hand as he smiled pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you too."

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Thank you for reading. Please show your support since it really helps me out :)

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[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (02)

➭ You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively;

“A future without you is a world without color.”

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, unrequited love, heavy angst, fluff, lawyer au.

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

SERIES: CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

"Please, Joon. I just need to know if he's okay..."

Namjoon scratched the back of his head while looking at Red. The latter was practically begging him to spill things he's been forbidden to utter. He was sure he's just seconds away from telling her what she wanted to know, but then he's abruptly reminded of how heartbroken Jungkook was.

"Don't tell her I'm here," tears painted Jungkook's cheeks. "I don't want to see her. Not now." Or ever...

"He's not here, Red. I'm sorry," Namjoon sighed, trying to close the front door of his small apartment; regrettably, Red stopped him before the door shut in her sad face."I know he doesn't want to see me." She said with a shaky voice—causing Namjoon to purse his lips into a thin line.

"Right." He couldn't help but say. She deserved the snarky remark for hurting Jungkook beyond repair.

"But I'm worried about him. H-He was...so mad when he left."

'Who wouldn't?' Namjoon wanted to say, yet he kept his lips glued together. He needed to remind himself that although she hurt Jungkook, Red was still his friend.

"I'm sure he'll be fine wherever he is." Namjoon's caught Red's eyes. "Jungkook is strong, you know."

"I know." She looked at her feet; this caused the man inside the house to also look down. Namjoon was so busy shooing Red away that he didn't notice a big box on the ground. Judging by the looks of it, he deduced that this box belonged to Jungkook. The tower of sketchpads and other art materials was already a giveaway.

"Can you give this to him, though? I'm not sure when I'll get to see him again, and I know he can't live without this stuff, so..." Red picked up the box. "Please, Joonie..." She added when the older boy didn't say anything.

"Fine."

In the end, Namjoon gave in. He didn't have a choice. This was the only way to make her leave; however, he instantly regretted his decision when he spotted Jungkook sitting on the couch."What did she say?" Jungkook inquired eagerly; his eyes flew on the box that's juggling in Namjoon's arms. Jungkook saw his friend trip over a non-existent stone.

Namjoon was really clumsy.

"She wants me to give this to you." The older boy handed the box to Jungkook in exchange for his precious daughter.

"Ji-eun..." Namjoon cooed, bopping the nose of his three-year-old child. Ji-eun chuckled; her little finger was poking her father's deep dimple.

"Appa!" Ji-eun's eyes twinkled. She missed being in her father's embrace even though it hadn't been long since Namjoon left her with Jungkook.

Ji-eun couldn't help it. Jungkook used to be the fun uncle, but all he did now was cry and snort. Admittedly, she's getting tired of wiping his tears every second.

She wondered who made uncle Jungkook cry.

"Huh." Jungkook huffed as he examined what was inside the box. Namjoon was right. It's full of the younger boy's stuff.

"Is she really so eager to kick me out of the house that she personally brought my things here!?"Jungkook was seeing red. Profanities left his lips as acid dripped down his stomach. He's so mad at his ex.

"Language, Jeon," Namjoon warned, turning away from Jungkook. He couldn't let Ji-eun listen to the younger boy's dirty mouth. "Besides, you're the one who left."

Jungkook didn't know how to respond to that, mainly because Namjoon was correct. He was the one who left in the middle of the fight. In his defense, he was hurt. What Red was saying was too much for him—it was painful, the kind of pain he knew would forever haunt him.

"I love him, Kook."

Red's confession echoed in Jungkook's mind again. Red told him she loved her soulmate. Jungkook didn't want to believe her because how? How could she fall in love with another man just by looking at him in the eyes?

"We've been seeing each other for months now."

His question had been answered. Red was a cheater, and it's the last straw for Jungkook. He couldn't take it anymore, so he stood up.

"I hate you, bitch!"

The pain that crossed Red's face indicated that Jungkook had gone too far. He didn't mean it, but he's hurt, and this was the only way he could hurt her back.

Before Red could say anything, Jungkook was already out of the door.

It's two am in the morning. Jungkook was certain that the only awake person that he could bother right now was none other than Namjoon, his brother-in-law.

Thankfully, Namjoon's apartment was just a few blocks away from Red's home.

"Kook?" Namjoon squinted his eyes after opening the door. He's been awake for straight twenty-seven hours to the point that he couldn't tell if Jungkook was really in front of him or if he's just hallucinating.

"Hyung..." Jungkook broke into tears upon seeing his only family.

Namjoon let the crying boy inside his house.

"I ran out of tea..." This was Namjoon's excuse when he handed Jungkook Ji-eun's milk. Namjoon didn't even have time to buy his groceries since his daughter occupied most of his time.

Fortunately, it looked like Jungkook didn't give two fucks as he was already halfway finished drinking the warm milk.

It's been exactly fifteen minutes since the younger boy came knocking on Namjoon's humble abode. Jungkook had stopped crying, though he still looked a little shaken.

"Red found her soulmate..." Jungkook spoke right before Namjoon could ask what happened. Suddenly, the older boy found himself biting his bottom lip. He didn't want to pry about Jungkook's life, but then he's reminded of the wish of Hye-Jin, his late wife.

"Take care of my brother, Joon..."

"D-Do you wanna talk about it?" Namjoon asked before he changed his mind. This was the only thing he could do for Hye-Jin.

"What's there to talk about?" Jungkook hissed even though he's the one who started telling Namjoon things. The latter kept his head low. In times like this, he wasn't sure what to say.

It's not like he's better than Red. Namjoon also broke up with the woman he was dating right after meeting Hye-Jin. The only difference was that Namjoon's ex perfectly understood the situation. She knew that they weren't destined to be together.

"She cheated on me. She said she's in love with her soulmate." The bitter taste in Jungkook's mouth was still there. It only strengthened as soon as the word 'soulmate' left his lips. Jungkook continued pouring his heart out to Namjoon despite saying he didn't want to talk about it.

"She's going to regret leaving me. No one can love her the way I do!" Jungkook swore, but Namjoon's almost 100% sure he's wrong.

Seeing colors were different. It felt like everything was perfect. Namjoon couldn't deny that one of the many reasons he fell in love with Hye-Jin was because she helped him see the wonderful hues.

It's like the more he fell in love with her, the brighter the colors became. Even now that she's dead, Namjoon could still see colors. Granted that it kind of faded, it's still the best thing Namjoon was proud to experience.

The rule of the world was simple. As long as your soulmate was in love with you, the colors would always be visible in your very eyes. It would only become less bright if your soulmate died. However, the case of a one-sided love was different. People wouldn't be able to see colors if their soulmates didn't give them their hearts.

Some said that there were cases wherein people went blind when their soulmates started to hate them. Namjoon and Jungkook didn't know if it was true or just a myth. After all, they hadn't encountered people who apparently 'went' blind because of the mentioned reason."I'm telling you, hyung. She'll come to see me soon."

Jungkook was right. Two weeks after their fight, Red showed up. Unfortunately, it's not to beg her ex to come back. She only returned a box full of his stuff, a clear sign that she's officially kicking him out of their shared apartment.

"How can she do this to me? It's my house too!" Said Jungkook nine days after Red's appearance in front of Namjoon's apartment, it finally dawned to him that his ex was no longer a part of his life.

It's really over.

Jungkook realized this while staring dumbly at his ruined sketchpads. Ji-eun accidentally spilled a glass of water on her uncle's drawing.

The mixture of pain, anger, and frustration caused Jungkook to scream. He couldn't possibly be mad at a three-year-old kid; that's why he just directed his negative emotions to the fact that Red practically kicked him out of their home—his home.

He was aware that Red's name was written in the lease contract, but Jungkook paid this year's rental fee. He's broke at the moment. This being the case, Jungkook swallowed his pride to come to live with his brother-in-law. The thing was, it's getting hard for him to stay there. Namjoon had only one room, so Jungkook slept on the couch—wait, this wasn't about right. Jungkook didn't even get to sleep. Ji-eun's cries wouldn't allow him to do so. Aside from this, the little kid had also ruined her uncle's drawings countless times now.

"Seriously, Kook. You need to move out of your brother-in-law's house." Taehyung pouted his lips.

Jungkook couldn't decide if he could take his friend's advice seriously, at least not when Taehyung's tongue was basically down Jimin's throat.

"I can't afford to lease a new place." Jungkook scrunched his nose, eyes still focused on the disgusting public display of affection in front of him. "I only have forty dollars in my bank account."

"Oh, you poor thing." Jimin slightly pushed his boyfriend's chest to dodge his kisses and to be able to look at Jungkook.

Jungkook snorted. He didn't want to be babied, especially not by Park Jimin, who he met just a few months back.

Park Jimin was Taehyung's real soulmate. It was still weird seeing them together. All his life, Jungkook believed that Taehyung, his childhood best friend, was a straight man. Taehyung dated a lot of women before; he also seemed to enjoy being with them.

This was one of the reasons why Jungkook hated the idea of a soulmate. It was a complete bull. It was unfair to let fate decide who you'll end up with. Jungkook witnessed Taehyung's struggle after meeting Jimin. He was happy that he could finally see colors and that it didn't take him long to like Jimin, but Taehyung was so confused.

Like Jungkook, Taehyung also thought he was straight, but then his world suddenly turned upside down. Before he knew it, Taehyung was crying. He was too overwhelmed with what was happening, and Jungkook hated it. The latter didn't care about genders; he supported those who didn't identify themselves as heterosexual. Jungkook hated that people had to limit what they thought their gender was just because of the concept of soulmate. Again, it was not fair.

"But I can help you..." Jimin added as he took a bite of his frozen yogurt. They were currently inside of an ice cream shop. Jungkook had to get out of Namjoon's home since it was getting hard to look at his ruined works. He called his best friend to help him destress. Jungkook just had to let his frustrations out. Luckily, Taehyung and Jimin were more than happy to treat their younger friend some frozen yogurts. Jungkook ordered three of the said dessert.

"No, Jimin." Taehyung said as if he'd read his boyfriend's mind. "Jungkookie isn't going to suck your dick for money."

"Aw." Jimin's lips protruded into a sulky pout, making Jungkook roll his eyes. Sometimes he couldn't believe the couple's relationship. Jungkook knew that Jimin was only joking, but Jungkook thought he couldn't let the love of his life think about someone else's body. He was pretty possessive.

"We can call Yoongi-hyung, though. I think he's in the mood for some dicks—"

"Guys!" Jungkook groaned, cutting them off. His eyes were widening too. "Can we stop talking about dicks for five seconds? I have a serious problem here."

"Oh, right!" Jimin's eyes lit up. He also cleared his throat—an action that made Jungkook sigh in relief; at least he's getting serious now. "You need to find a roommate, Kook. Lucky for you, I have a friend who's looking for a housemate. I think she could cut you off some slack."

The younger boy's scoff was almost instant. "Cut me off some slack?" He narrowed his eyes at Jimin. "I don't want to owe anything to anyone. You know that."

Jimin shrugged his shoulders, taking another bite of his frozen yogurt. "It's not like that. You'll actually be the one doing her a favor. She's in dire need of a roommate, Kook. She wouldn't mind if you couldn't pay rent right now, as long as you're willing to keep the house clean and look after her cat. You can do that, right?"

Of course, Jungkook could. He was an artist; he spent most of his time inside his home, silently drawing whatever came into his mind.

"Huh." Jungkook was still skeptical. "Can't she just hire a maid?"

"Wish it was that easy. She's a mess. Not even her maids can tolerate her shit. Besides, her cat is a total bitch. She scratches anyone that's not her owner."

"I'm not sure..." Jungkook scowled. He wasn't sure if he could live with a stranger. Jungkook was a shy boy; it actually took him a long time to even say 'hello' to Jimin.

"Just think about it, Jungkook..." Jimin smiled warmly at the younger boy. "I swear she's a decent person. Yes, she's messy, but aside from that, she's fine. She doesn't pry on anyone's life; she's quiet, just like you, and oh! She likes banana milk too! I swear, Kook. You'll like her!"

For some reason, Jungkook's heart skipped a beat. He knew Jimin was kind, he's the type of person who always talked about the good qualities of a certain someone, but this was the first time he spoke about someone with such passion.

Jimin continued to talk about you, his lovely best friend. If you could hear him right now, you were sure you'd end up crying. Jimin was indeed the best friend you could ask. He's fiercely loyal.

"It's true, Kook. You'll love her." Taehyung talked about you with the same intensity. He had met you, and he instantly fell in love with you. You were smart and witty.

The couple continued sharing things they loved about you. Jungkook swore he's not easy to convince. The only acceptable reason why he's standing in front of your apartment was that Taehyung and his boyfriend knew the magic of words. They had done an excellent job convincing him.

Jungkook let out an exasperated breath when you still didn't answer the door after his ninth attempt to knock. Truthfully, he was getting pissed off.

Maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

Just as when he was about to leave, the door suddenly opened with so much force. Jungkook was startled.

"I'm sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking, so I slipped down the floor, and I..." You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.

"Oh, my God!" You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jungkook to see his reaction.

You were rambling about how this whole situation was so embarrassing, but Jungkook wasn't listening anymore. How could he focus on anything when his heart was beating this fast? Jungkook was pissed before he met your eyes, right now; the irritation he felt was rapidly boiling down to panic when he realized what was happening.

Colors.

Jungkook was used to seeing black and white, so imagine his confusion when the colors suddenly became visible in his eyes.

Nothing made sense to him, but one thing's for sure.

Jungkook had found his soulmate.

[cakelovesyoutoo]

how i overcame my issues. a letter to my former FP: thanks for breaking me.

note: out of respect for her privacy i will not be referring to my FP by name.

i hate having suspicions about someone. because when i do, they usually turn out to be true.

i will never forget your deleted tweet that you posted while we were still dating saying "sorry that you are my new obsession now". i made you do a "loyalty test", asking "does your bf like serial experiments lain?" as a way of getting you to spill your guts about the certain individual you were subtweeting about. you said "he was just a friend" and not only that but you also said that it was just a joke. i believed you at first, but time eventually confirmed my suspicions.

when our relationship ended you told me you wouldn't date ever again because you didn't want to deal with the responsibilities that come with dating. i wanted to convince you otherwise, to make you see that not everything is black and white and that we can still be something. your rejection of my offer hurt me a lot. and it took a while but in the end, i ended up accepting my new status as a friend.

i had several breakdowns before embracing the sad reality, but every time i wanted to leave the internet for some time in favor of my own mental health you kept telling me that you cared about me, that you couldn't imagine being here without me, that you'd feel bad if you made someone leave and that you wanted me to stay. i wanted you to see that i needed time to focus on my mental health, but you kept telling me to stay. and so i did, which ended in one of my worst public mental breakdowns i've had in years, in which i ended up hurting my buddy Kass for trying to help me.

now i'll be honest, i was a bit of a baby in that scenario. i do admit crying out for attention and refusing people's help, and i won't try to justify that. that was a mistake, and i corrected it by apologizing to everyone when i had to. it's good to recognize your own flaws.

anyway, now you're dating someone you just met just because he was helping you feel better about scary old me's psychotic episodes and likes the same game you like (and have likely been doing so even while we were still dating) over someone who you've known for half a year if not a year and genuinely cares about you. all you tweet about is him. you never cared about me, you never loved me, you just wanted someone who could make you feel good about yourself and when i stopped being good enough you began to plan your escape.

you rejected your art hobby, the very thing that inspired me to move forward in the art community, in favor of attention from strangers who have no emotional connection to you like i do. you used to take free requests, that's how much you loved your hobby. you even drew some artwork for my now abandoned musical project either last year or the beginning of this year. you were someone special i looked up to, and the keyword is 'were', because the last time i talked to you, it felt like i was talking to a different person. seeing you reduced to yet another girl on twitter who feeds off the attention from guys hurts worse than a stab wound to the neck.

"I wish you'd stop being mysterious to try to scare me" and "Oh fuck off" were the things you said when i tried to make you see things from my perspective. and yes, maybe my wording wasn't the best, but you completely missed the point i was trying to make with my statements and proceeded to brag about how you're happy about your decisions on your now private twitter.

maybe you think you're doing the right thing by selling me out to fulfill your selfish desires, but i've done the same before, and it didn't end well. you won't realize the consequences of your actions until they bite back and leave wounds. and when that time comes i won't be the one to treat them.

and to the guy you're dating; i don't hate you, i never did. i blocked you for my own mental health. but know that when something seems too good to be true, it's because it's a trap. you'll be hurt in the long run.

maybe you really did love me. maybe i'm the asshole here. maybe it was my "cold" personality and lack of communication that made me seem uncaring and killed our relationship. but it's all over now, and my only option is to move on.

congrats on breaking me, and thank you for doing so. otherwise i would have spent my whole life blaming myself. but now, i see the bigger picture. having lived this experience will allow me to mature, grow up, and learn from my mistakes..

to other people who have been through similar things, please know that you're not alone. the world is big, we're small, but we're all human and we all go through similar experiences. if you need someone to vent to, i can't promise that i'll be of much help but please reach out to me and i'll listen.

life gets better.

btw here's a cringe song because it perfectly encapsulates how i feel regarding this whole fiasco:

[wasabito]

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true. 

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer. 

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once. 

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance. 

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture. 

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment. 

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly. 

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more. 

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too. 

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit. 

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up. 

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!" 

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?" 

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

[agustdiv1ne]

candy hearts — TEASER

♡ READ HERE ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x reader

genre: childhood best friends to lovers au, fluff, angst

wc: tbd (projected to be 10k+)

summary: spending valentine's day with your best friend had become a sort of tradition for ever since you were seven years old. despite the twists and turns in your friendship as both of you grew up, the one thing that never changed was the box of candy hearts that he placed in your hands every year.

warnings: tbd, none in this snippet

TEASER

tuesday, february 14th; age 12

you leaned your head against your palm as you zoned out in your last period class. science had never been your favorite subject, even less so given that your teacher had been informally dubbed the school's wack job. 

as the day had dragged on, you realized that the holiday wasn't as widely celebrated in middle school. the so-called 'special' day was reserved solely for the few couples on campus, most of which had been dating for only a couple weeks. you bet most would be broken up by next month, the typical cycle for immature, hormone-riddled relationships. 

but back to your science class.

you felt your eyes nearly roll into your skull as your teacher excitedly explained the concept of genetics and punnet squares. what a riveting topic to listen to for an hour on valentine's day. however, you couldn't focus on his boisterous ramblings when your mind was chock-full of bitter thoughts of how your best friend had decided that he couldn't be seen with you at school. 

okay, maybe not back to your science class. you were too distracted, too bothered, to concentrate.

because while yeonjun had promised to not leave you behind in middle school, it grew exceedingly obvious, as the year went on, that he had lied straight to your face. this holiday was only a painful reminder of that fact.

you couldn't entirely blame him, though, the vast sea of middle school causing you to slowly drift apart from each other as you both tried to find where you fit in. he had made new friends easily, the shy boy you once knew emerged from his shell, countless peers recognizing him for his impressive talents in baseball, in dance, in singing, the list could go on. he was good at everything that he tried his hand at, and by the middle of seventh grade, he had become the campus' golden boy. even the eighth graders knew him!

this came with a cost, however, and that was leaving you, his best friend of five years, behind (for the most part, at least).

you had found your own friends, of course. you had to, or else you would have been deemed a loner, and no one wants to be a loner in middle school. it was uncomfortable, having to talk to people you had never interacted with beforehand. despite this, you had found yourself a little group through your art class: yeri, chaeyoung, and yuqi. they had welcomed you into their trio easily. though it felt weird to have friends other than yeonjun for the first time, you were happy. well, uh, besides the whole yeonjun thing.

with only one class with him, it was easy to not speak to each other during school. your hangouts were now confined to after school, when he wasn't surrounded by his new friends and could make time for you. you never tried to talk to him about it, scared that he'd twist your words and it would destroy what semblance of friendship that remained between you. honestly, you wished that you could go back to elementary school, when things were easier, when you could talk to him at school without worrying about the consequences of doing so. 

yet you knew it wasn't that easy. this wasn't elementary school anymore.

your eyes subconsciously trailed over to the boy in question. you were supposed to hang out with him after school, but there was always that one insecurity that rattled around your mind:

what if this was the year that he finally blew you off? for good? 

you shook your head, going back to the worksheet your teacher had passed out as you were distracted by your thoughts. punnet squares, okay. one parent with a dominant and recessive gene, one parent with two recessive genes. now fill in the squares…

"hey, y/n."

your head shot up from at the sound of his voice. eyes wide at the fact that he was speaking to you at school. it had been months since he had last done so.

"oh, hi yeonjun. what did you need?" you sent him a tight smile, not that he noticed. twelve year-old boys were never most observant.

he placed a box of candy hearts, the same thing he gifted you every year, on top of your desk. it was blank, no message or name in sight.

"i wanted to give you this before i forgot and it got crushed in my backpack." his voice quietened, almost as if he didn't want anyone to hear what he had to say next, "we're still hanging out after school, right? like we always do?"

you nodded, and he shot you a small smile, "great, thanks."

he walked away. as soon as he sat back down in his seat, his friends were punching at his shoulder, teasing him, asking him if he was dating you. you could hear it all from where you were sitting, but you wished you couldn't after what he said next.

"me? with her? no way, we're just friends. i could never see her like that."

you never truly realized how much he truly meant to you until you no longer hung out until after school, but this? this hurt. it made your chest ache when you saw his borderline disgusted face at the insinuation that you were dating each other. what was so bad about you for him to have that reaction? was it your hair, your face, your acne? you found yourself mentally paging through every possible flaw you saw in yourself until the bell rang, signalling the end of school. 

yuqi walked up to you at the front of campus, immediately spotting the forlorn look on your face, "hey, you good?"

"uh, yeah, i guess. listen, i have to go meet up with yeonjun. catch you later?" you asked.

"yeonjun, huh? are you sure you're not dating him?" she smirked, and you rolled your eyes, your mood worsening even more.

"we're just friends," you spat, turning away from her, "he'd never like me like that, anyway. i have no chance with him. i'll see you later, yuqi."

the further you walked, the worse you felt about how you spoke to yuqi. she didn't deserve to deal with the brunt of your wrath, it was uncalled for. you wanted to run back to school and apologize, but you were sure she had already been picked up.

you'd have to make it up to her tomorrow.

as you neared the supermarket a few blocks down the street from school, you could see yeonjun waiting near the entrance, his foot tapping against the sidewalk impatiently. his bike sat next to him, which explained how he arrived much earlier than you.

"took you long enough," he teased as you approached, but you didn't answer, only sending him a half-hearted smile in return. his grin fell, eyebrows now furrowed. oh, now he noticed how you were feeling? typical. "you okay?"

that was the second time you had been asked that now. you wanted to say no, you definitely were not okay, that it hurt to hear him say those words earlier, that it hurt that you couldn't even talk to him during school. you wanted to tell him that you felt abandoned, you wanted to tell him that he broke the promise he made a year ago, that ever since the first day of seventh grade you felt left behind. you wanted to ask him why he even bothered hanging out with you when he couldn't bother even speaking to you at school.

but you didn't.

instead, you plastered an artificial smile on your face, trying to make your voice sound a little more energetic than you felt, "yeah! i guess i'm just tired. science wasn't exactly fun today, y'know?"

"tell me about it," he laughed as he walked beside you, easily accepting your excuse without prying. you wished that he would have pried. "he's the weirdest teacher i've ever had, i can't believe he hasn't been fired yet."

"right?" you replied as you walked down the aisle full of candy. you picked out one of the overpriced boxes of heart-shaped chocolates before walking up to the register. you tried to hand some of your money to the lady helping you, but yeonjun swatted your hand away.

"nuh-uh, you're not paying for this," he argued.

"but-"

"no."

you visibly deflated, scrunching your nose at him in distaste. he simply grinned at you in response.

"ah, young love," the cashier sighed as she took yeonjun's money. your heart clenched, thanking her before you two walked outside again, the air cool against your skin, the sun glaring into your eyes, the weather the complete opposite of your mood. you glanced over at yeonjun. you wondered why he hadn't protested when she said that. you didn't ask.

his hand found yours, dragging you around the corner behind the building. your heart raced, skin heating up slightly at the contact. your reaction couldn't have meant anything. no, you couldn't like him like that. you were friends, nothing more, nothing less.

as you sat next to each other behind the supermarket, unwrapping and eating the chocolate that he had bought you just a few minutes ago, you realized that you really couldn't deny it anymore: you were in love with choi yeonjun, your best friend, and you couldn't do anything about it.

hope y'all are excited :) if you would like to be tagged when the full fic is posted, please send me an ask!

→ © to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[g0ttal0ve101]

Eddie in Wonderland (Part 1)

[This is based off of the 1951 film of Alice in Wonderland. I will be skipping some parts and characters, since the cast is pretty small. Please excuse any errors I make. This art is NOT mine, but it goes along with the story.]

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

A meadow of beautiful daises looked to be dancing as wind blew through the luscious green grass. It was a warm day, a day where animals would be roaming about, a day where children would be playing together, a day where everything was at ease. A woman's voice calmly read out words from a page of a history book, slowly and particularly gentle to make sure each and every word was pronounced correctly. Soothing, but awfully boring.

Above the woman sat a boy in a branch, who was supposedly listening to the words she read. He picked daisies from the meadow and began making a flower crown, holding his dear kitten, Sadie, in his lap. The young boy's foot slipped off of the branch, close to his mother's face as she read. Her blue eyes drifted off the page as she looked at his shiny black shoe, then up at him. "Edward, would you please listen to your history lesson? It's rather rude not to listen."

His ginger hair fell into his face a bit as he placed the daisy crown on his kitten's head. "Sorry, mother. It's very boring to read a book with no pictures."

"Edward, there are plenty of interesting books out there that have no pictures." His mother gazed off at the meadow for a moment, knowing her son wouldn't be listening anyway.

"That can't be true," he tells her, watching as the crown fell to the ground. "In my world, books would only have pictures!"

"In your world? Edward, please. That's absolute nonsense. Now, from the beginning." His mother began to read once more.

"Nonsense? That's it, Sadie!" He sang, scooping Sadie up in his arms. "If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because it would be what it isn't! And contrary wise, what it is, it won't be! And what it wouldn't be, it would! You see?" Eddie puts the grey kitten down, jumping off of the branch without his mother noticing. Sadie let out a mew, still on the tree. "In my world, you wouldn't say "meow." You would say, yes, Mr. Edward." The kitten lets out another meow as Eddie picks her up, holding her close to his chest as he began to walk towards the woods. "Oh, but you would! You'd be just like people, Sadie. And all the other animals too."

Eddie sets Sadie down in the meadow, patting her head softly with a smile. "Why, in my world..." Eddie began to sing,

"Cats and rabbits would reside in fancy little houses...

And be dressed in shoes and hats and trousers..."

Eddie lays in the the flowers, almost disappearing into them. He gazes up at the sky, seeing that the blue moon was already beginning to show.

"In a world of my own...

all the flowers, would have very extra-special powers.

They would sit and talk to me for hours

when I'm lonely, in a world of my own..."

A blue bird then passes him by, causing an even bigger smile to rest upon his cherry cheeks. It reminded him of their small bird at home, who looked very similar.

"There'd be new birds,

lots of nice and friendly "how'd you do" birds.

Everyone would have a dozen blue birds,

within that world of my own..."

Eddie grabs Sadie and began walking down towards the wooded creek. The water was rushing by quickly, so the boy made sure to hold onto his little friend tightly as he skipped over a few rocks.

"I could listen to a babbling brook,

And hear a song that I could understand...

I keep wishing it could be that way,

because my world would be a wonderland!"

Eddie crouched and touched the cool water with his hand, feeling the stream go through his pale fingers. Sadie sat next to him, staring at the liquid as if it was a monster. Eddie's ginger hair was very clear in the reflection of the water, which made him sigh. He never liked how it looked or framed his freckled face. Suddenly, it began to look different. The reflection twisted and turned, showing Eddie's shocked face and a man standing right behind him. He turns quickly, only to see a tall gentleman with black hair, two white rabbit ears, bandages all up and down his body, and wearing a fairly fancy outfit.

Eddie turns around slowly, only to realize that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. There was actually a man, a rabbit man, standing there behind him. Before Eddie could speak, the rabbit man looks down at a huge golden watch then points at it with a sickening smile.

"You made me three seconds behind. Now you have three seconds to run. That's only fair."

Eddie's green eyes grow huge and his kitten ran away as quickly as possible. He then saw the bloody knife in the man's hand, falling into the creek, but immediately getting up and running away. "MOTHER! MOTHER!"

The rabbit-man chased after poor Eddie, hysterically laughing as the boy had tears streaming down his face. His panic got the better of him, making him become lost in the forest. Eddie was nowhere near the meadow anymore, but he could just barely recognize where he was. His heart was beating out of his chest, feeling his foot fall through a hole and dropping him down who knows where. He let out a terrified scream for his mother, but nothing came from it.

However, his body felt light. He wasn't falling, rather, floating. His white dress shirt fluttered around a bit as his blue tie flew in his face from the unexplainable gravity. "Wha...? What's going on...?" Eddie mumurs, fixing his tie. The hole grew darker and darker, leaving a pit in his stomach grow. However, he could just barely see something that looked to be a lamp on a table. He reached out towards it and flipped the switch, illuminating the area. Random things were around him as he slowly fell, such as tables, chairs, and potted plants. They all seemed to be items that would be in a house regularly, but definitely not in a rabbit hole.

Eddie passes a mirror that catches his horrified expression, then a nightstand with books on it, then a rocking chair, all the way until he fell right on his bum. He was then in a hall with odd coloring floor tiles and weird doors. At the end of the hall stood the rabbit-man again, who held his golden watch. "I'm late cause of you, brat." He then showed Eddie's mask that was supposedly fell out of his back pocket as he was running. "I got this from you, lil-shit. Thanks."

Eddie gasps, knowing that was one of the only things that weren't a hand-me-down from his older brothers. He stood up and chased after the bandaged man in a fuss, forgetting how dangerous this cold be. "Hey! Give that back! It's mine!"

The man ran through a door at the end of the hall, Eddie racing after him in a spur of anger and fear. The door seemed to get smaller when he came closer, but blamed it on his imagination. He opened it, only to see two other small doors behind it, he had to crawl through it into a large room where there was another door the rabbit-man went through. He stood up and grabbed the handle, only for it to wail.

"Oh!" Eddie cried, lifting his hands up and touching his face. "Oh, I'm ever so sorry!"

The doorknob wiggled around like it had a life of it's own. "It is quite alright, young one. What is it you need?"

The voice sounded like a sweet elder gentleman, which comforted Eddie a little bit. "A man has something of mine. I must get through to get it back! It's very...important to me."

"Why, you're much too big to get through."

"I don't understand how he got through when he's taller than me."

"This is Zack we're talking about," the doorknob muttered. "Oh, but you could get through if you drink that substance in the bottle. There is a wooden table over there. It will have a bottle with liquid in it and a key underneath. Drink the liquid and use the key to enter."

Eddie followed the instructions, grabbing the bottle and key on a wooden table in the spacious room. He looked at the both of them, feeling a bit uneasy.

"Uhm...I'm sorry to be rude, but I'm not sure I should trust a liquid such as this...and this key has blood on it!"

"The blood must be from Zack...forgive it please. I have known Zack since he was a mere child. I cannot see, but I am sure the substance is safe as well."

Eddie felt naïve, but he truly believed that the voice was telling the truth. "Alright, I surely do hope I won't get sick from this."

The ginger then took a drink of the blue liquid, tasting the delicious flavor it had. Cookies, now bubblegum, now cake, now caramel. However, after it was all gone, the bottle became bigger and bigger, in which Eddie couldn't onto anymore. This is when he realized that it was not the bottle that got large, but he had shrunk!

"You should be short enough to go through now," the voice exclaimed. "Be careful, young one."

"Mhm! Thank you for the help!" Eddie gushed, opening the door and going through.

He was now in a forest-like area again, seeing the rabbit-man, supposedly named Zack, further in the woods than he was. Eddie hurried to catch up, but it was difficult to keep track of where he was. The trees were so thick and dark that it ended up confusing his eyes to thinking it was the man. "Stop! Please, wait!"

Eddie was then stopped by two pairs of hands grabbing him and pulling him back. He quickly spun around and fell over, in fear of whoever had touched him. There were two gentlemen with long black hair and strange tattoos on their faces. They looked identical, standing next to each other while gazing at Eddie.

"Oh! Why, hello there...!" Eddie nervously giggled, backing away from the two. "I'm sorry if I caused any trouble, I was just looking for a man named...Zack? He was running around just a moment ago. Again, sorry for the bother...it's been nice meeting you! Goodbye-!"

The two gentlemen then stand in front of Eddie, blocking his way from leaving. Eddie chuckled nervously before backing away a little.

"You're doing it backwards." One of them says.

"Yes, you go, 'how do you do?' and shake hands." The other completes the thought.

Eddie gasped, putting his fingertips against his lips. "Oh! Pardon me! My name is Eddie, how do you do?" he giggled, shaking their hands.

"We're splendid!" One says.

"Splendid!" The other adds.

"What are your names, if you don't mind me asking." Eddie puts his hands neatly behind his back, standing on his tip-toes.

"Our name is Shin." They both say with a smile.

"Ah! That is a lovely name! Uhm...I need to get going now, bye...!" Eddie goes around them, trying to speed off and catch Zack. However, the two jump in front of him again.

"Want to play hide-and-seek?"

"Or who has the button?"

"Thank you for the offer, but I really must get going." Eddie tries to walk around them again, but they both grab each of his arms to hold him back.

"Why?" They both ask together.

"I must catch up to a rabbit-man who has something very dear to me." Eddie says in a tender and loving tone, trying to convince the two to let him go. "Please, allow me to find him."

The two look at each other with a smirk, grabbing the boy and pushing him onto a small log to sit on. "We will tell you a story first." They both say together. Before Eddie could reject the offer, the two begin dancing around and singing.

"There once was a boy who made graves and got nothing of his own,"

"The only thing he got was the smooth and flat stone!"

"And over the trees,"

"And over the hills,"

"Laid a grave-robber at work."

"He took all the bodies,"

"It was his hobby,"

"And began to sing this song! Ohhh,"

"These bodies will make me rich, my boy! These bodies will make me rich! Take them and hurry, runaway, scurry, and watch him go berserk!"

"The young boy decided enough was enough,"

"Knowing what the man had done!"

"Grabbing his hand,"

"Pushing him in,"

"And began to sing! Ohhh,"

"This grave will be ugly, with no beauty at all! I'll put the robber in the casket with no one else involved!"

"The robber screamed,"

"And wailed,"

"And cried,"

"But no one came along!"

"This is why you never steal from a grave-keeper's son! Hurrah!"

Eddie stared at the two with complete confusion, looking genuinely concerned. "That story...has a moral to it, huh?"

"Don't steal from a grave-keeper!" The two shouted with a twisted grin, almost implying that Eddie would know this.

"...Well, I ought to be going."

"We have another song!"

"Yes, about a girl who stitches people up!"

The two began to sing about another odd topic, Eddie sneaking away when the two weren't looking. He saw a glimpse of bandaged rabbit ears behind a huge tree in the distance, regaining his composure and chasing after the man. "Wait! Please, wait! Wherever are you going?!" Eddie soon finds himself running down a dirt path, leading towards a garden of flowers. Since he was still so small from the drink, the flowers looked huge and out of the ordinary. He entered the flowerbed as he looked around for Zack. "Where are you?! Please, come bac-!"

Eddie was then met eye-to-eye with a flower, which had a face. It clears its throat, lifting up a small stick and beginning to orchestrate a song piece for the other flowers to sing. They all sounded wonderful. Eddie couldn't help but to watch them all flutter around gracefully with their petals in the air. His eyes then lock onto the most humanoid looking one; White petals, beautiful golden hair, and two big brown eyes. She laid by many spider webs underneath the sunset, the dew on her making her look so angelic. She was by far the prettiest, the most talented, and the most separated from the other flowers.

Eddie and the flower made eye contact, only for her to blush a rosy red and look away sheepishly as she continued to sing. The young boy was then stopped by the other flowers who surrounded him, seeing that he was the only one not singing. He nervously giggled and looked around to see all eyes on him.

"My, you are all so wonderful." Eddie praised their performance with a gentle smile. The girl flowers all swayed over him, whispering about his looks.

"Thank you very much, dear." The orchestrater rubbed her petals against Eddie's cheek before pushing him a little closer to the rest of the flowers. "Now, may I ask what flower you are?"

"Oh, why, I'm a steady-ready-Eddie flower!" He sang, causing the girls to swoon again.

"A steady-Eddie-what?"

"Look at that stem!" One flower exclaimed, grabbing his suspenders and yanking them a little.

"And those petals!" Another shouted, running their leaves through his ginger locks. "They smell like pumpkin spice, not very much like a flower though..."

"I think he's gorgeous," the white flower girl spoke, only to be hushed by the others.

"What flowerbed are you from?"

"None, ma'am."

"Are you a wildflower?"

"No, I'm not a flower at all!" Eddie finally told them. He didn't know that their response would be negative to that answer. Everyone began to whisper about him and the white-petaled girl looked a bit distressed. He was going to ask what was wrong, only to be grabbed and thrown away.

"He's a weed!"

"A weed!"

"We don't want weeds in our flowerbed!"

"I'm not a weed!" he cried, landing on his hands and knees. The flowers then began throwing water on him that was stored in their petals above. Eddie clenched his fists and stood up, now soaking wet. "Well, if I were my regular size, I could pick each and everyone of you!"

"Get out of here, weed!"

Eddie huffed, dusting himself off and looking back at them. The white flower girl gave him a small smile and waved, causing Eddie's anger to dissolve as he did the same. He then turned away to see that the dirt path led into a meadow that looked like a jungle, since he was so small. Each strand of grass was as big as a tree and all of the mushrooms were almost as tall as Eddie himself. He began his way through, knowing that the white rabbit must have gone this way. His black shoes that his mother had just polished grew muddy as the path grew wet. This was awfully annoying.

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I will post Part 2 later today~❤

[the-elder-beato]

also Kirby

1. It's fine for a Kirby game to not have 20+ copy abilities if the system implemented is creative enough. I know a lot of people were pissed at Dreamland 2 and Dreamland 3 in particular because they came hot off the heels of Kirby's Adventure (which introduced copy abilities) and Kirby Super Star (which added multiple moves to each copy ability) respectively. However, I still think both are really solid games in their own right because even though the number of copy abilities is lower, they get really creative with them and how they interact differently with each of the animal buddies.

Dreamland 3 is one of the best Kirby games in the series because of this, it has 6 animal buddies that all have different adorable ways of using the copy abilities, it has an amazing art style, and it has some of the best random cameos in the series, there's literally a level where the goal is to kill a bunch of metroids with the ice ability and Samus gives you a heart star for it. I could gush about this game forever, but in general I wish the Dark Matter Trilogy games that aren't Kirby 64 got some more love, all 3 deserve a remastered collection and I really hope it happens some day

2. Kirby's Epic Yarn is good. It isn't as high stakes or action-packed as previous Kirby games but it isn't meant to be. People complain about the lack of lives and shit but literally when have lives ever mattered that much in Kirby games in the past, Forgotten Land doesn't have lives and people still absolutely love it. Both games still have a penalty that takes lives' place, that being you lose beads or star coins respectively. Kirby's Epic Yarn is the kind of game you play when you want to see cute Kirby shit and look at some really awesome and creative yarn graphics. The music is also top-notch, the Ice Cream Islands remix from this game is the best rendition of that theme that's been done to date.

Also you get to fucking decorate Kirby's house with yarn furniture, any game with house customization gets instant high marks from me

3. This one is gonna be weird because I've seen people both love and hate Star Allies and I have both positive and negative unpopular things to say about it. The first being that Star Allies, base game with no DLC, is really fucking boring. Levels are really long and barren to compensate for the friend mechanic, which means there's a ton of empty space, and during boss battles especially it means that the screen can easily become really cluttered and you'll have no idea where you are. The worlds are all just "grassy area", "ice area" "fire area" without much else to differentiate them from past Kirby level theming. As an example, Planet Robobot and Forgotten Land both have ice worlds, but they actually switch things up by making the levels themselves unique. Planet Robobot has a level composed of ice pops and ice cream and Forgotten Land's ice world takes place in England (which, i mean, ew, but at least it's something new and looks nice). "Puzzles" in Star Allies tend to just be "break this block in this very obvious spot and get a puzzle piece" or "wait 5 minutes for this boring crushing block puzzle to end". It is by far the easiest a mainline Kirby game has been in years, and it really fucking sucks coming right off the heels of Planet Robobot, cause that game had really interesting level design and some actually difficult puzzles.

On the positive side of unpopular opinion though, I do think that the completed roster of Dream Friends were worth the wait, they are all incredibly fun to play and I think they were used wonderfully in Heroes in Another Dimension, it just sucks that the main game itself wasn't at the same level of enjoyment as the final DLC level. Oh, and the Clean ability was the returning ability I was the most excited to see in this game by far. Nago, ChuChu, and Pitch are some of my favorite Kirby characters and I'm so glad they got to return in some form through this ability. But yeah, overall, I really can't recommend Star Allies to anyone except the most die-hard Kirby fan, and even then I'd advise you to buy it second hand because it just isn't worth the $60 price tag. You often hear people complain about Kirby games being too easy and same-y, and unfortunately this game embodies those complaints to a T.

4. Kirby's Dreamland and Kirby Super Star are vastly overhyped. I still really appreciate them both for the strides they made when they first released, especially Super Star since it basically laid the groundwork for how modern Copy Abilities would function. But both games are very outdated and their gameplay is far more polished and enjoyable in Super Star Ultra. You even get an extra mode via Revenge of the King that basically brings Dreamland's hard mode to life and surrounds the extra difficulty with a completely new story.

This is gonna be the really unpopular opinion but I think even Super Star Ultra isn't as amazing as some people like to think. And this is coming from someone who used to have it in their top favorite games of all time, it was my very first Kirby game after all. I still absolutely adore it and it's a blast to play through but after years of replaying it to completion I have to say the gameplay gets pretty repetitive after a while. Milky Way Wishes has a unique gimmick, sure, but for the most part it's just a retread of earlier levels with repeated bosses, just recolored. Most of them aren't any stronger than they were in their debut modes, they're literally just palette swapped. The other extra modes added in Ultra definitely raise it above the original, especially Revenge of the King. Helper to Hero is also fun just for the fact that you get to play as all the helpers and see their cute little sprites. Meta Knightmare Ultra is... fine, but I'll get into that more with my 5th unpopular opinion. Basically, Ultra relies a lot on reusing stuff, which is a problem the original had as well. I just feel like other Kirby games that came after Ultra had a better balance of tons of copy abilities with a variety of moves while having a much more varied gameplay loop. Still love it, just not as much as I used to.

5. I think people will be really mad at this one but here goes. The Meta Knightmare modes are REALLY overrated. Nightmare in Dreamland was its first appearance, and overall it wasn't really all that different from the main game other than having less health and being able to play as Meta Knight. Ultra onwards is where the mode improved significantly because it gave MK special abilities and had a different final boss or bosses at the end. The final boss segments of Meta Knightmare mode in both Ultra and Robobot are fucking fantastic, but playing through the entire game all over again as Meta Knight just isn't that fun to me. In Ultra especially, it really wears on me because now you have to go through all of the already very repetitive levels all over again, with the only big difference being that you don't have to find collectibles. I think this moreso has to do with the fact that we've had a Meta Knight mode in 3 games now, because the extra mode in Triple Deluxe with Dedede was actually really fun to me because it was the first time controlling him. I was really hoping for a Bandana Waddle Dee extra mode in Forgotten Land since the game is so Waddle Dee-centric, but no such luck.

Anyway, I don't mean this to be a knock on Meta Knight himself cause he's cool, it's moreso just the oversaturation of playing as him that makes me not enjoy it as much. I had a similar issue with the Dream Friend modes in Star Allies, because after the excitement of seeing their movesets wears off, you're basically just replaying the same boring main levels over and over with only slight differences. All that said though, the boss rush at the end of MK mode in Robobot is one of the best things in the whole series, the minute I heard the fucking remix of Dark Matter's theme from Dreamland 2 I was just speechless. So as long as we keep getting stuff like that, I can deal with more Meta Knight modes.

6. Waddle Dee is the best enemy in anything ever

[minthysugamon]

Everybody wants to Rule the World. (Part 2)

Noble Assistant,Sergeant! Namjoon x Assassin! Reader.

1789! AU

Word Count: 2,111 (angel number go brrr again)

Warnings: Slight misogyny,beheading,blood,death...i think that's all.

(Credit for the Original Photo: @/athenaa. I only edited it a little bit. But all credit goes to the original artist who posted the photo first in it's original version)

(Painting: La liberté guidant le peuple by Eugène Delacroix)

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12 Août,1787. (Flashback)

After reading every word of Voltaire,Maximilien became more and more riled up by the thrill of the revolution. The adrenaline of change was getting the best of him,he had no time to care about his little sister,(Y/n) Robespierre,who would simply block him from getting in the city. The Robespierre family was more than just concerned about their eldest child,the Gem of their family. (Y/n) hated the injustice their father casted upon them. She wanted to learn,he wouldn't let her. Henriette tried to reason her but stubborn,like her brother,she went up in Paris,alone,in the quest of knowledge.

After arriving at Le Marais,her first goal was to find her brother. Nothing more,nothing less. And finding him,she did. But not in his expected state. "Maximilien,laissez moi entrer.¹" A groan was heard from the man but he got up to let his sistet in. "What are you doing here? I told you to stay at home,in Arras. Is it so hard to follow my or father's wishes?" He sighed and pulled a chair out for her. 'How chivalrous.' (Y/n) thought to herself. "Mon frère,i came here to ask you a favor." Her eyes,full of hope,heart racing,the negative answer from him already anticipated. "And what would that favor be? If it's to join some political club,it's a no. And i won't listen to any begging. No is-" "I know. No is no. I don't even want to join those. All i wanted to ask from you is to teach me the art of law."

Maximilien sighed. He knew she will never be accepted as a lawyer,as much as she wanted. In the end,(Y/n) was a woman. Not a male apprentice. But a simple woman. "So...? Will you please teach me...?" Her voice resonated through the small living room,a hint of hope and a dust of desperation sticking to it. "No. I can't. I already taught you everything you had to know. I can't teach you more." Maximilien simply sat down on a chair,looking at her. How could have his sister,a woman from such a delicate mother,turned out like a man? "Is it because i'm a woman?" "It's because you won't be accepted. I'm only doing you a favor here,if you haven't noticed. Ta demande est ridicule. Et tu le sais très bien.² I won't let a Robespierre be turned into laughing stock. Not only your honor depends on it,but our whole family's."

Objecting her brother was the worst thing she could ever do. The man was stubborn and always stuck to his own ideologies for the better or the worst. "But you know-" "STOP IT. NOW. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT THAT ANYMORE. I SAID NO. AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE THAT. YOU ARE A WOMAN. KNOW YOUR PLACE FOR GOD'S SAKE." The heavy breathing coming from the eldest was enough to make the atmosphere heavy between them. (Y/n) stood up and put the chair back as if she was never on it. "Alright. Thank you for your time,Maître Robespierre. Je me tâcherai à ne plus vous contre-dire.³" Stepping out of the residence,(Y/n) let the door slam against it's frame. The silence was too heavy around Maximilien. He wanted to tell her he's sorry,but he knew it won't change anything. Her pride was too high for her own good. So he put his aside for once,as unwilling as he was. "Alright. Come back. If you want to learn. You will learn. From me. But don't tell anyone about this. Est-ce clair?⁴"

The young woman's eyes lit up. For the first time,she achieved to coerce something useful out of her brother,something that will be helpful for her future. "Crystal clear,Maximilien." She did a 180 and started walking towards the door of the small and stuffed place the elder was living in,passing right beside him. "So? When do we start? I wanna know everything." An innocent but playful smile spreading on her face as she spoke took Maximilien by surprise. "Quoi?⁵ Not even a simple thank you?" The tone in his voice was laced with fake-hurt. He was annoyed but somewhat proud of her sister's persuasion skills. If she was a man,she would've been a very good lawyer. Putting ultimatums where they belong,it requires skill.

14 Juillet,1789.

After getting some powder,Namjoon was finally recharging his gun,the fact he owed his life to a revolutionist still had him shocked. 'Why?' wasn't his only question though,he wanted to know more about that woman. "COUPEZ-LUI LA TÊTE!⁶" the chant of the crowd grew louder and louder as his foster father was escorted by some peasants. While the sergeant of the troop was laying dead jn the hallway,the squad's organisation itself was frantic,none of them had endured such debauchery before.

"Sir,what should we do? We can't let the colonel down." One of the soldiers finally spoke up after a long moment of silence. His ears were ringing. The loud gun noises made him lose all auditory senses,but he still spoke up despite not being able to think clearly and having no military experience. "Wait here. If i signal the path is cleared,you follow. Divide in two divisions. We can't sacrifice anyone. If anything,i prefer sacrificing myself if there's a chance to lead you into safety. May God be with all of you."

Namjoon had no idea what came over him and moreover had no idea how to command,but he strong leadership De Launay has showed during his younger years may have stuck with him. One thing is sure,he won't commit the error of turning his troops against himself. Maybe getting killed was his destiny after all,but he would do everything in his power to not have the one who raised him killed. After hiding behind a pillar,the man signaled to the first troop to come and hide behind the chariot. The chariot the battle was going on for,the precious gun powder those uncultured men couldn't use. Hell,even him,he was new to the battle but the situation couldn't degrade more.

"Here's what we're going to do. We have to use up all the powder while the second troop can finally get to safety. Negociating with these savages already failed,we have to act." The youngest soldier, Nathanaël du Rhône, looked him in awe, their leader, Kim Namjoon, the man who was once a Stranger, was more worried about their safety than his. The newly appointed Staff Sergeant pointed to Nathanaël. "You. Signal to the others that they can come,then hide and leave. You have more than just a fight to live. The others,you come with me. Hide,aim and charge. I'll signal you when to shoot." De Launay has noticed his son due to his inattention,his hat was in the wrong direction. He simply smiled at the determination of the young chief then mouthed a simple 'You'll be alright son." in his direction while the three man were still escorting him out to the court of the prison.

"Wait....Now. Shoot." And the men acted as Namjoon said,including himself. They fired the shots,simultaneously touching the three who were holding the Colonel. Recharge,aim shoot again all the people who were flocking in the court. Once they had no other choice and were blocked,the hiding spot was discovered too. But he won't let his men down easily,he wasn't raised to do so. "Gather the explosives. We must light them and decimate the crowd or else this hell will never end."

After throwing one of the smoke torches in the crowd,he started running towards his elder, successfully stabbing one of the new detainers in the throat with the bayonette of his shotgun. "Père.⁷You must come. I beg you." De Launay simply nodded a no and smiled "My destiny was to die protecting the king and the prison. Now go before they get you too. You're too young to die." Namjoon wanted to do another round before he saw the head of the Colonel falling,in addition thhe man's blood splattered over his face as he wasn't more than 3 meters away. "Chef. Ils nous ont encerclé⁸. We must go." A new smoke torch was thrown by the youngest soldier on the ground,blinding the revolutionists as he held back his chief from going rampage over the ones who killed the one he called father. "NO I CAN'T. I CAN'T LET HIM DIE." Namjoon screamed frantically as Nathanaël was pulling him by the arm, at the same time asking for help from his troop mates. Two other men came to hold the new and young Sergeant down,escorting him to a hiding place,not wanting to lose their only commandant in this butchery.

15 Juillet,1789.

After staying up all night,the sun was rising. 'Finally', (Y/N) thought to herself. The night was long enough already when she simply had woken up from night terrors and waited for the light of the day to reassure her,but now that she had to wait for her brother, it seemed like an eternity. Sitting on the roof of the house Maître Robespierre lived in,she had the privilege to eat something that many couldn't, an apple. The thought of saving that guy in the early afternoon was prancing around her mind, not fully understanding why she did what she did. 'I should've killed him. Now he's one of my countless problems.' Her inner monologue was eating her up,much like she was munching on the green fruit. Due to the bad harvests of the previous years,it was as sour as her mood.

After finishing the apple,eating the core,even if it was more than just acidic and putting the seeds into a small pocket of her leather pants,she knew she should get down the roof and change back into her normal attire to hide her activity. As long as Maximilien didn't know about anything,she was safe. He wouldn't condone her actions even if she was killing the noblemen he oh so strongly opposed. As murderous as his desires were, the thought of a woman being better than him made his skin crawl. The crowd had finally died down too,people went back to their residences or the small shelter they were at to sleep,it was around two in the morning that the chants started to become more and more quiet and at three,not a single soul was seen wandering the streets. It was although now five in the morning and she knew,her brother would soon come back from the whorehouse he went to. After finally getting into her dress,she went out the door to finally get some bread. 'Oh to be a man and not give a piece of mind about the opinions of others.' she thought as she entered the local bakery.

"Bien le bonjour, mademoiselle⁹ ,early today,i see! Let me guess,the usual or are we changing it up today?" The baker, Jean-Hugues Lefèvre, was known for his kindness towards his costumers although since bread was a missing article nowadays,he always managed to sneak some to the poorest families,giving up his rations to save others. The baker had already started packing the two loaves,as usual until his actions were interrupted by (Y/n)'s voice.  "Just one loaf will be enough,thank you. I'm only buying for my brother,i am going back home today." As he was choosing the best loaf,he raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So soon? It hasn't been two months thought,as you said ten days ago." She smiled awkwardly,not knowing how to engage in the small talk,making herself feel smaller. "Well...i guess the Parisian air made me feel a little bit exthau-" her phrase couldn't be finished as somebody barged into the shop.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Lefèvre." The intruder was a tall man,smelling like gunpowder and cologne "Bonjour, Sergent Kim. Congratulations on your rank. You fought well. I am sorry about what happened with the Colonel. What can i serve you with?" Jean-Hugues gave (Y/N) the loaf as he told her the price and the  another man looked at her. "Three loaves please..." Thoughtful was the only way to describe him once he caught a look of the eyes of the woman,and (Y/N) had a suspicion why,so she ushered herself out of the bakery. "Wait a minute." The man called out. So she turned around "Yes?" Trying to seem confident out of the cape and mask that hid her face yesterday was harder to do than to say. "Haven't we met somewhere?" A genuine curiosity was displayed on his face. As much as she knew the right answer,the lie was necessary. "I don't think so. Have a nice day,Monsieur Lefèvre." And the girl started heading to the Robespierre residence.

Left dumbfounded and with three loaves for his 10 men, Namjoon was thinking about where he had seen those eyes before. "The girl from yesterday."

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Translations

¹ Let me enter

² Your request is ridiculous. And you know that well.

³ I'll make sure to never argue with you again.

⁴ Is it clear?

⁵ What?

⁶ Chop his head off!

⁷ Father.

⁸Chief,they have surrounded us.

⁹Well good morning there,Miss.

A/N: Hello there. There will be probably a part 3,but i don't know when. I don't promise it will be before april but i'll try to write it before. Please note that i try to stay as close to history as possible but as this is an AU,there are some modifications here and there. This is pure fiction please do not take this for something real. Thank you. (Only saying because i've gotten some hateful DMs bc of the first part).

[sainadazai]

Chapter 5

^^^

A/n Hey I drew a lil doodoo drawing of y/ns suit

So yeah, this was a quick one when I was bored. Maybe Ill do more art for this book and better art later. I also apologize for the body type being on the side of thin- curvy.

I simply drew the common body shape for MHA's animated style, and then made the thighs a lil thicker because I felt like a garter deserves some nice thighs . If its not your body type, or it offends you, I apologize, and I can take it off this story if it bothers anyone.

Anyway..

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On the way out of school that day, you could faintly hear the quarrel of two boys from your class, the ones whose fight earlier scared Ojiro. They seemed to have so much in common, and yet it pitted against them. They needed a wake up call, but it wasn't yours to give. The yelling was hard to just walk by, but you did your best to tune it out, you'd ease dropped enough earlier when you watched them put their hearts into their battle on the screen.

Still, your mind was preoccupied, so you walked past them easily, not even sparing a glance. Eyes stuck to the ground in concentration. Just trying to follow the little scrapes and grooves in the sidewalk you stood on.

Todoroki said thank you, after you apologized. As if he'd never heard it before, that's what his voice sounded like. Like no one ever noticed that fear he had in those heterochromatic eyes. Whatever happened to him, stuck with him. Bothered him, even. You could just tell.

Why hadn't you said something more? Or maybe all you said was all he neede-

"Oof!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you," He did see you, he saw you from meters away, looking at the ground. Perfect time for him to execute his plan.

You looked up from your spot on the ground, having fallen over. There stood Shoto Todoroki, in all his deadpan glory, looking down at you. He wasn't offering a hand so you did your best to stand on your own while keeping your underwear hidden. The boy didn't seem like the type who would look, but you never know.

"Ah, don't worry, um, its my fault anyways." You had been waiting for the chance to talk to him, but now he stood in front of you, there was nothing you felt comfortable saying. Earlier in class you totally embarrassed yourself in front of him, and then scared him. In a mean way too, in a trauma way.

"I don't really see how it's your fault."

So he did want to talk to you? He could have simply left after the brief apologies, but he stayed, protesting your claim. That and the privacy, made it much easier to respond to the boy.

"Well, I was staring at the ground, so not really the best way to walk through a place where anyone else could be." You kept your gaze at his shoes, to prevent from overthinking and getting flustered. This was supposed to be the beginning of a great friendship.

"Hm, you always look at the ground?" He pondered seriously, as you used his voice to block out the sounds of yelling a couple hundred meters away.

What was he implying with that question? Did he mean it as an insult, or was he just curious? He always seemed so sincere with his words, blunt but soft. It was strange to you, but it felt trustworthy.

"What do you mean?"

"You always seem to be looking at the ground, like in the quirk assessment test, and when you were beating me earlier. Why do you do that, L/n?" Todoroki took a step forward, standing one meter away from you.

"I guess to distract myself?" You were guessing out loud, but again something about it felt okay. Like you could say whatever you wanted and he would still just be there, curious eyes staring down at you.

"What are you distracting yourself fr-"

"You were super cool in the training earlier!" You almost yelled at him, not feeling like describing the eyes that felt so prying on you every time you spoke. Similarly not wishing to relive all the years where talking got you beat up in alleys on your walk home, and black eyes began to mark your face more commonly than not. It's not like that would be important to him, at least your wounds healed.

He had that trauma, whatever it was, constantly screaming at him in the mirrors or reflections of himself. A scar that widens his stoic eyes at the mere presence of heat, something that must hurt him very badly. Your childhood bullies are nothing to him, so it's best to talk about anything else.

"Oh, um thank you, L/n, but you were the one who won after all. I won't let you best me again, you know."

"Oh, I um, I'm not sure that win was fair.." You rubbed the back of your neck, hiding your embarrassment for your actions earlier. It didn't seem to cross your mind that what you did was actually what you were supposed to do. All you could think of was the look in his eyes that you put there, and you didnt ever wanna see it again.

Todoroki could sense that feeling of guilt in you, he'd felt it plenty of times before. Alone in his room when he dreams of his mothers face, sitting at his desk at school, thinking of all of the times he lost control of his quirk as a kid, in training. He learned to see it in others, you felt like it was an unfair win because you had scared him. That was your job, though, wasn't it? Why were you so upset at your success? He didn't understand.

"Did you break a rule, or something?"

"No.."

"Then how could you have cheated?"

"I just.. Look whatever happened to you eye-" you stopped as you noticed him stiffen. It wouldn't be nice to make him relive his trauma either, so what were you meant to say?

"I just shouldn't have used heat, I could tell that was a burn scar and it was a cruel thing to do." you looked down at the ground feeling like the shittiest hero in the world.

"You were playing the villain, though, weren't you?" He spoke again, seeming to have regained his stoic presence and stone face.

"I guess I was, but I'm here to become a hero. A hero wouldn't do something like that."

"Maybe they would." He started talking with certainty that disobeyed his use of the word 'maybe'.

"Huh?"

"Not all heroes are what you think they are, L/n." He looked you dead in the eyes, the intensity of his aura growing and it almost felt like you were supposed to cower in fear. Still, you held your ground, despite now being only inches away from him.

"Sounds like you speak from experience," You tilted your head becoming more outwardly spoken and allowing your thoughts to exit your mouth.

"That's a topic for another day, goodnight, L/n." With that, he turned away and walked stiffly out of U.A.'s gates. Leaving a million questions to run through your mind.

Did this make you friends now? When would that other day come? Had you just eternally ruined your chances at being a hero? Was he right? Were some heroes bad, like you? Were you bad? There were too many questions for you to answer yourself. So you settled from going home and making some dinner with your parents, you missed them, after having to be friends with other kids all day. They would be your comforting escape from highschool, or well, two days worth of highschool.

-

When you arrived at the barrier-like gates of your school the next morning, you were rushed with reporters. They were men and women, tall and short, circling around you all at once. You could hear the sweet and kind voice of Uraraka from afar, but you couldn't see her over the swarm of reporters. It was terrifying.

"What's it like having all might as your teacher?"

"Is the hero course majorly improved by the symbol of peace's presence?"

"Why did All Might become a teacher?"

"Have you done any training with the number one pro?"

Being here almost felt like being in your own mind. Swarmed with questions you don't have the answers too, or the confidence to answer them if you do. It was overwhelming, the world began to spin around you and your palms grew sweaty. E/c eyes shot in every direction to find an escape but they couldn't, you were trapped. Then, little black dots started to crowd up your vision like ants in your eyes and you fell unconscious.

The brown haired girl who had been happily indulging reporters noticed your fall and ran to you, grabbing hold of your arm. She wasn't really sure what had happened, but she decided to just take you into class with her. The reporters busying themselves with other arriving students.

Ochako took it upon herself to take hold of your backpack and drag your limp body by it, all the way up the hill and into the buildings of U.A. She wouldn't admit it, due to being a bit shy, but you caught her eye on the first day of school, and she'd been meaning to befriend you. Unlike the group of girls who she noticed had adopted you, Ochako spent her first few days with Deku and Iida. Securing herself in a nice little group with them.

However, you were very pretty, and adorably shy, and she really wanted to be your friend. Then after your awesome performance in yesterday's training, she was set on it. This was a great opportunity for her to help someone out, and make a new friend!

Strange looks came from every direction as the short, pink-cheeked girl dragged your seemingly lifeless form through the halls. They were both concerned for you, and confused at her calmness in the situation. However, no one spoke on it, fearing a hero class student might have some weird reason to do a strange thing like this.

Well, no one until Deku. He had been excited to greet his friend until he noticed her unusual baggage.

"Hi Urarak-Is that L/n?!" His eyes shot wide and he almost jumped back.

She looked down to you, and then back up at the freckled boy, "Oh, yeah" rubbing her neck she added, "She sorta passed out by the reporters and I couldn't just leave her there!"

"Oh my god! Is she okay? Should we take her to recovery girl? What if she has iron deficiency? Did the reporters zap her with some sort of quirk?"

"Deku...Deku...DEKU!"

"Wahh!?Yes?"

"She is fine, I think she just got overwhelmed." Uraraka tried to calm him. She wasn't all that sure about your condition herself, but it didn't seem crazy like Midoriya was implying. You just looked panicked. Her head turned as soon, Todoroki walked up to 1.A. 's door.

"Oh, hello L/n.." he looked down at you, kicked your side a bit to check if you were dead or not. Honestly, he wasn't very surprised to see you passed out in the halls, having assumed you were met with the reporters as well. Todoroki couldn't blame you for falling unconscious, he wished he could have, too.

At his nudge, you stirred awake, and then all at once, shot up to your feet defensively. "A-All Mights cool, okay! He's fine, he's just fine. Please I-" Then your eyes cleared and you were no longer in front of the school. The people surrounding you were no longer reporters, but your classmates.

"Oh, um, hi..guys?"

"I already said hello to you, L/n."

"While I was unconscious?"

"Yes."

"How does tha-"

"Get outta my way you losers!" The puff of blonde hair and rabies stormed through the halls. Back slumped like an angry old man, scowl resting on his face. He was not excited for school after yesterday, and those damn reporters made it worse, bringing up the sludge monster incident. So imagine the rage when the annoying girl who placed just behind him on almost everything was at the door, looking stupid, and nervous, and in his way.

"L/n! You better get out of that doorway!"

You squeaked, not because bakugou's empty threats scared you, but because if you defied him, that meant speaking words. He seemed pretty good at words, so you didn't want to test it. His voice was also way too loud for someone who had just woken up from what you thought was a near death experience.

People were scary.

Soon enough, however, everyone was settled in class. You, in your seat next to Todoroki, who didn't seem quite as cold as the day prior. Not to say his face was any less stone-like or his voice was any less monotone, but the aura around him wasn't as intense. That comforted you as Aizawa began the days homeroom period.

"Decent work on yesterday's combat training, you guys. I saw the video feeds and went over each of your team's results. Bakugou, you're talented, so don't sulk like a child about your loss, okay?"

Said boy huffed a breath "Yeah, whatever."

"And midoriya.."

He continued talking about how Midoriya has to break himself to use his quirk, but you tuned it out because the memory of seeing it was pretty gross.

"L/n, your battle with Todoroki was risky, he was less than a foot away from a victory by the time you took action, additionally, you're going to have to get those nerves under control. We can't have you apologizing every time you use your quirk. It's a waste of air."

His call out of your name was enough to shock your eyes open, but him criticizing your work in front of others? That was terrifying. You knew he was right, about everything, it was his job to be, after all. Still, it hurt to hear, considering it wasn't like you intended on being shy. Your body just clamped up and started to sweat when other people came around. It got super hot and loud and scary until you muttered an apology, nothing about it was voluntary. If anything, you really wanted to be extroverted and say what's on your mind and be bold. The world just seemed to have different plans, you supposed.

"Sor- I mean, uh, yes sir!"

Todoroki shot you a side glance , internally a bit proud at your ability to stop the apology that rested on your tongue. He was having an internal battle with himself about why he wanted it and why he didn't. The argument points being; it's adorable when you're shy, it's kind to apologize - versus - you being confident yesterday was arousing, and making quick progress is a sign of intelligence. A tough battle for the young boy's mind.

"Today we'll be choosing a class representative. Hurry up and choose before class ends." Aizawa zipped himself away in his sleeping bag and the class was left confused. Until you suppose everybody wanted to be class rep. Then there was an abundance of screaming and begging. From the red haired boy, the pink skinned girl, the kind girl from lunch. The whole class thought they would be worthy leaders. You heavily disagreed.

From your experience in previous schooling, class representatives were meant to be somebody smart, strong minded, compassionate, a good leader. These were just a ton of kids begging for attention, really, you aspired to be just like them.

Aizawa was right, though, you needed to get the whole shy thing under control, and fast if you wanted people here to view you as a threat. So you decided you probably wanted momo as class rep and slumped in your seat to strategize ways to be more bold.

While you were zoning off in your seat, Iida took charge of the situation, you guessed it was always going to come down to a vote, but good on him for 'coming up with it.'

"Hey, L/n."

"Wha?! Oh todoroki, um, yes?"

"Who are you choosing?"

"Um, Yaoyorozu.."

"Why?"

"Well, she is smart, and kind, and probably a good leader, so"

"Okay. Me too then."

His words didn't make sense to you. Was he agreeing with you just because of something you said?vIt couldn't be. Maybe he was insisting that he, too, was a good leader. That would make more sense than agreeing with you.

"You're a good leader too?"

"No. I will also vote for yaoyorozu."

"B-b-but...WHY!?!" your eyes widened in shock as you whisper-yelled at him.

"You don't want me to?" he asked, still in deadpan.

"I-well I do, B-but um, nevermind." It was better to return your gaze to yo[ur desk. He would think you are weird if you said something about it being because of you. He probably just also saw those traits in momo, it had nothing to do with you.

-

There were almost tears in your eyes. It felt as if the whole world was rooting against you, cheering for your failure. Eyes were watching and glaring, it felt like it'd be better to just curl up into a ball on the floor. Be so small they cant see you anymore, then maybe the universe would stop hating you so much.

They were out of soba for lunch. You would rather starve.

Next to you, on the way to some random table, momo was complaining about how Midoriya was president. She didn't understand what he really could do, being that he was so shy to attention. He reminded her of you, but she would never say that. It would make you nervous, like you and he were competitors, and he is so much nicer than you.

"Hey! Over here!" Ashido called to the two of you, waving her hand frantically.

"As I was saying, he does show some signs of good leadership, but im worried he is too nervous right now."

"Mm, yeah.." Your hand came up to wave at said boy, who had been making an uncomfortable eye-contact with you for quite some time.

Over at Midoriya's table, the conversation about pros had shifted to you. As Iida was explaining his family business, or hero-business, it led him to the memory of having been told a story about you. About your dad, to be precise.

"Yes. And I dont think I'm the only descendant of a pro in our class."

"What?!' Ochako screamed, eyes wide and shaking in excitement.

His gaze flickered to where you walked slowly next to a rambling black haired girl. No lunch in hand and mind seemingly elsewhere.

"Yes. I recall the story of one rising pro from years ago, under the name of Magneto. He was almost in the top ten ranks after less than a year of hero work, and climbed quickly. His private life was kept under wraps but his last name was L/n. That, and the metal quirk lead me to believe that the L/n of our class is his relative in some way." Iida presented the information with less gestures than he used for his own family, but more like he was solving a mystery, one he seemed quite proud to have deciphered.

"Oh I know Magneto, he retired around the same time All Might got famous." Uraraka added.

They were both quite indifferent at this information, but Midoriya was thinking a million miles a second. He knew exactly why your relative retired. In the battle where All Might saved over a hundred people, and became famous, the battle he'd watched a thousand times as a kid, Magneto was injured, along with his pregnant wife. It caught the news a couple days later and he had written down everything.

So was this hero your father? Uncle? Cousin? Is this how you got to be so strong? He was so busy feeling in awe of you he began to stare. Lost in the gate of your stride, and the stillness of your lips, how they were pursed in a straight line as if you disagreed with something. Those e/c eyes were however lost in thought. Until you spoke something quietly and looked up at him, holding eye contact.

He blushed slightly at being caught and decided he should just wave, and you waved back.

From the other side of the table, Todoroki could hear everything. He could acknowledge that you were strong, with or without a famous dad, but he wondered if the pro-hero dad thing was the same for you as it was for him, He'd hope not, he assumed not, too. Even if your life wasn't what he had thought it was, you always smiled so brightly. When you thought no o[ne was looking, you'd smile at Midoriya's success, and the fighting of the kids in front of you. Sometimes he even caught you smiling to yourself in class, as you just wrote down some English questions.

That smile didn't feel like it came from struggle, or masking pain, it felt genuine. He found that he really liked that.

"Warning Level 3 Security Breach!"