#shit that may not be okay and they may need to be held accountable for but goddamn i was legitimately worried they were gonna off

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Dark Lord (Part 2)

Summary: The reader's been tasked with devising a way of getting Sam out from under the grasp of Demon King Crowley by The Dark Lord. But Dean isn't exactly what the world thinks he is and his hiring of the reader might not be so simple...

Part 1

Pairing: Dark Lord!Dean x employee!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, curses

A/N: Welcome back to this one! There's so much going on in this part that will fill in some gaps. I'm keeping this a two parter mini-series for now but maybe someday there could be more. Please enjoy!

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Dean POV

“Why hello, Lord Winchester,” said Donna with a bow and shit eating grinning. I narrowed my eyes as she shut the door to my office. “However may I serve you today oh fearsome one?”

“Fuck off,” I said with a smile, flipping her the bird. She still wore a giddy smile, sliding into the chair opposite my desk. “I believe it was security that came up with the Protocol for when we have a new employee, hm?”

“If I have to call you Lord one more time, I’m jumping off the terrace,” she said, crossing her legs and pulling her laptop from her bag. “Besides, that protocol isn’t a hard and fast rule. She’s not a spy.”

“She could be.” Donna rolled her eyes, clacking away at the keys. “She was stealing from me so she’s not so innocent.”

She scoffed. “She stole some fucking asthma medication for her kid brother cause she got canned from her old job so she lost her health insurance, all because she wouldn’t sleep with her scumbag ex-boss. Yeah. She’s a real hard ass.”

“Did you do what I asked?” I tilted my head, Donna sighing. “I’m not going to kill him. Just ruin his life.”

“An anonymous tip will go out to authorities next week,” she said. “Wasn’t exactly hard to find the tax fraud and payoffs.”

“As I expected. So, how’s she doing?” Donna shrugged, typing again. “Come on. She barely talks to me.”

“Yeah, cause you scared the shit out of her. She’s freaking out trying to come up with a plan to get into Crowley’s place.” I breathed deeply. “Isn’t she moving in today? Why don’t you go drop the charade and help her.”

I pursed my lips, eyes darting to the window. “She only got caught at the warehouse because one of the guards twisted his ankle in the parking lot and she went to help him. We wouldn’t have seen her at all which means that girl is hiding something.”

“Magic,” said Donna. I hummed, a bird flapping by. “There isn’t any in her bloodline from what we saw.”

“Do you remember why everyone calls me the Dark Lord?” I asked. Donna’s lips parted, her gaze averting. “There’s ways of having magic without being born with it and we both know it.”

“Can…can you do what she did? Sneak in and out of places without being seen?” I shook my head, Donna closing her computer, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, Dean.”

I turned my attention back to her, Donna frowning. “What?”

“You want her to sneak in and get Sam, don’t you? You’re going to risk some poor woman that worked in accounts payable her whole life just so-” I held up a hand, Donna still pouting.

“I want her to teach me how to do that. However she got in, I need to understand it and once I do, I alone will get Sam back.”

“How do you know you can do what she did?” Donna asked. I frowned, standing up. “Dean.”

“I just do, okay? I need to go. Can you handle the latest shipments?” She nodded, her eyes far too concerned. I tried to smile but it came out flat. “Just…trust that I know what I’m doing?”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she said. 

I gave her a curt nod before I was gone, swallowing thickly as I walked the halls towards the far end of the grounds where personal quarters were.

Nothing stupid. Right.

Y/N POV

“Careful!” you said as Kyle rushed around your new townhouse that afternoon. It was modern, yet cozy, warm and inviting. It was by far the nicest place either of you had ever lived. Coming fully furnished didn’t hurt either.

A knock at the door made you jump, Kyle rushing past you to open it. “Kyle-”

He ripped it open, Dean standing there dressed in a red flannel and dark wash jeans. 

“Hello, I’m Dean,” he said, Kyle holding out a hand.

“Kyle Y/L/N,” he said back, Dean smiling as he shook it, his gaze oh so briefly finding yours in the background and god, your heart leapt at the sight. That man was hot when he was brooding but he looked downright sinful when he was grinning ear to ear.

“Allow me to properly introduce myself then. Dean Winchester although you probably know me in town as The Dark Lord.” Kyle dropped it immediately, Dean clasping his hands behind his back. “Really? Do I seem that scary?”

“Y/N says not to talk to strangers.” 

And he proceeded to shut the door in Dean’s face.

 “Kyle! That’s my boss!” You rushed over and ripped the door open, Dean chuckling when you did so. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” said Dean, Kyle tucked away behind your back now. He peered around you, giving Kyle a small wave. “That is good advice your sister gave you about strangers. You know, I wish I had a big sister when I was growing up. My life would have turned out very differently if I had someone watching my back.”

“Don’t you like being The Dark Lord?” he asked, coming around your side. You nodded and let Dean inside. He took a few steps before squatting down, letting Kyle tower over him. Dean tilted his head, looking boyish for a moment.

“Not really,” said Dean, Kyle’s eyes going wide. You kept your face expressionless but were surprised by that admission. “Outside this place, people think I’m the bad guy. I’m sure you’ve heard all the stories about how I’m a monster in a skull mask and cloak, running around killing anything that moves.”

Kyle nodded, Dean resting his elbows against his knees, sinking back into his heels.

“I used to live in town with my parents and brother. We were normal. We didn’t even have any magic in our family. When I was four though, a bad man came to my house.” Dean’s gaze fell down to the hardwoods, his jaw twitching. “He hurt my mom and tried to hurt my brother who was only a baby. It was King Crowley.”

“What happened?” he asked. Dean looked up at you though, your eyes following the thin trail of black that rose up from between his shoulder blades, curling all around the room, your eyes darting after it. Kyle looked at you strangely. “What are you looking at?”

“You don’t see…” Dean rose to his feet, the black trail curling all around your body, swirling and pulling away, stopping with a pointed look at your chest. “What are you doing?”

“King Crowley turns out was there looking for me. He knew of a curse, a powerful one. He placed it on myself and intended to place it in my brother. But my dad stopped him before he could touch Sam. Then, well then we left town.”

The smoky mist curled around Kyle, ruffling his hair without him noticing. 

“See Kyle, this curse? It only works if put on soulmates. Sam is one of mine but people have lots of soulmates. So Crowley cursed another one of mine eventually and that day, I got my powers. Incredible power, power that when working with my soulmate would be unstoppable. King Crowley isn’t happy though. I was too strong when he tried to capture me, control me. So he went after my brother to try and place the curse on him too to control us. To have power.”

Dean’s trail moved from Kyle to tuck under your chin, yours lifting on instinct. His eyes followed the movement, lip quirking.

“I never wanted to be scary but it’s the only thing that keeps Crowley from coming here and trying to hurt the people I care about again. Reputation is powerful,” said Dean, clasping Kyle on the shoulder. “There’s a few kids playing a game of soccer down past the housing quarters on the greens. Maybe you want to go check it out while I help your sister finish unpacking?”

Kyle looked at you, optimism in his eyes. 

“Alright,” you said, grabbing your phone off the front table and handing it to him. “I want you home by six at the latest, understand? And no leaving the grounds. And Kyle?”

“What?” he groaned, already rushing to put on his sneakers. 

“Have fun,” you said, Kyle scooting outside not five seconds later. Dean watched him take off, humming before he stepped back inside the townhouse.

“Cute kid,” said Dean, his smoke trail spinning all around you. “Reminds me of Sam.”

“What the hell is that?” you said, nodding to where the trail stopped, pointing at you. Dean shrugged. “Is that because I’m magic?”

“You’re not magic, Y/N. I just told you. Crowley put a curse on me.” 

“You said that already.” Dean’s black misty trail pushed forward, pressing forward, stopping at your chest. You stared down, breath hitching. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t use your powers often. You’d be more in tune with sensing others if you did,” he said, gently resting the tip against your skin. You glanced up, Dean cocking his head. “Do you remember the part where I said he cursed another, Y/N? A soulmate of mine. It’s not hard for a man dealing with demon magic like him to find out those sorts of things. So. If you don’t have magic in your blood yet you have powers…powers that allow you to see my also non-magical powers…that makes us…”

You blinked, holding up your hands. “Wait. No. No there’s not way you and me are…”

“So you didn’t eye fuck me the first time we met?” Your cheeks flushed, eyes darting away. “Y/N. Come on. Let’s stop pretending and be realistic.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What exactly does that mean?” 

Dean ran a hand through his hair, letting his hand drop slowly. “It means…it means teach me how you broke into my warehouse so I can get Sam back. After that…we’ll figure that out if Crowley doesn’t catch me.”

You took a few steps away, putting your back to him. 

“Why does Crowley want our power? He’s never come near me. Something doesn’t add up.” There was a presence behind you, causing you to turn and face Dean who had come closer. “Unless he found out after the fact our powers aren’t that same and decided he only needs yours.”

Dean held up a finger pointing it in your face. “You…have good points. He really never came after you ever?”

“Not that I know of.” You hesitated, Dean tilting his head. “Your powers…what do they do?”

Dean took his turn to move away now, slipping past you into your kitchen. He splayed his palms on your kitchen island, shoulders sagging.

“Think of them as…being like the offense on a sports team. They can attack, control, move things.”

“I can’t do that,” you said quietly. You went to the kitchen sink, turning the water to hot, too hot. Meanwhile, Dean eyed you, steam billowing against the cold metal basin. “Just…watch.”

After a beat, you placed your hand under the water, Dean rushing around the island. You held up a hand, his gaze drifting down to where the water rippled over your skin. “It doesn’t hurt me, Dean. Your powers are like offsene? Well, mine are defense I’m pretty sure. It’s like I get a bubble around me.”

Dean reached around you, turning off the water before handing you a hand towel from the counter. He tilted his head, biting his bottom lip.

“You don’t think you can show me how you do that?” he asked. You sighed. He took the towel back when you finished wiping your hand off, one of his black smoky tendrils wrapping around it, holding it up. “Maybe you can try one of my powers first. Can you take the towel?”

With a frown, you concentrated on trying to pluck it away from him but all you managed was to make the bubble around your hand larger, wrapping it around the two of you. Dean looked up and over his shoulder, pouting when he glanced at the misty dome encompassing you.

“You may have a point about us having different powers,” said Dean, touching a finger to the barrier. “Why would Crowley take Sam then?”

“Same reason as always. To get to you. If he kept Sam, he could make you use your powers for whatever he wants. Mine aren’t all that useful to a guy like that. It’s probably why he’s never bothered me.”

“Why curse you then?” he asked. You shrugged, pulling the bubble away and swallowing.

“Maybe the powers don’t work unless both people are cursed? But I guess that doesn’t make sense. I’m younger than you quite a bit,” you said. He scoffed.

“Quite a bit? I’m barely forty, little shit,” he said, breathing deeply. “...Although I don’t remember doing anything with my powers until I was older. Maybe eight, seven?”

“So you couldn’t actually do anything until I was cursed as a baby too.” You leaned back against the counter, Dean settling back against the island with crossed arms. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t think I can teach you how to do what I do. I don’t even think about it. It just happens.”

“I understand that feeling,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’ll figure out another way to get Sammy out.” 

“Setting aside the fact we are…soulmates for now,” you said slowly, Dean cautiously meeting your gaze, “I don’t think this plan stops at getting Sam back. Crowley will just come after him again.”

“You sound like you have an idea.” You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Let’s hear it. I hired you to brainstorm this stuff so I’ll take anything at this point.”

“Well, I think we need to figure out what Crowley wants. He’s all powerful so why does he need your power specifically? Crowly rules The Dark Lands. He’s eons old and doesn’t bother humans. So what on earth could he need you for and why now? He had plenty of opportunities to grab Sam over the years. He must be on some kind of deadline. What’s that tell us?” Dean straightened, eyes wide.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe I’ve never thought of that,” he said, reaching out and cupping your cheeks in his hands, planting a fast kiss on your lips. You barely felt it before he pulled back, licking his lips. “You’re a genius, little thief.”

“Uh, thank you?” He started to jog away for the front door, your throat clearing. “We’re not going to talk about the whole kissing thing just then?”

He froze, spinning around with a smile. “Couldn’t help myself. I uh, I know what Crowley wants I’m pretty sure. I’ll stop over tonight.”

“Dean-” But he was already out the door, jogging towards the main building. “Be careful, ya big idiot.”

Two AM

You jumped awake from your chair on the porch when you heard a car door shut. Dean’s muscle car was in front of the townhouse, his long legs carrying him up the front steps into the light. His eyes were dark, tired, but you saw no injuries on him.

“You worried about me or something?” he teased, sitting down slowly in the seat next to you. A long breath left his lips, his eyes closing. “You back to being terrified of me? Or is it just the nerves of being next to your soulmate?”

“I don’t like cocky guys,” you huffed, Dean chuckling, peeling his eyes open to smirk at you. “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do.” He tilted his head. “It’s flattering really. You’re fated to be with The Dark Lord. You like a bad boy, don’t you.”

“You’re insufferable,” you said. You got up, taking the blanket wrapped around your shoulders with you. “Did you come here to flirt or what?”

“Always so serious,” he said, looking you up and down. “You have anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“Don’t you have your own home?” He hummed. “Why are you here?”

He stood, cupping the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You rose up on your tiptoes, black smoke curling around your body and holding you in a tight embrace. God he was so…gentle? His large hands were holding you, grasping, tugging, yet his lips were slow, soft, teasingly playful.

He grinned when you broke off, nose touching as your hot breath mixed together. “I recall you wanting to revisit that kiss, hm?”

“How do you know we’re romantic soulmates, hm?” you said, Dean chuckling. “God, you’re annoying. I liked you better when I thought you were scary.”

“Oh, I’m terrifying, sweetheart. Just not to the people on my side. Especially not the woman that thinks I’m hot. Or would you like me to show you the security tape from when they brought you in and you couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”

“I was afraid for my life,” you deadpanned. Dean shrugged. “I was!”

“Yet here you are, kissing me twice in one day.” 

“You kissed me-” He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you.

“Details, sweetheart. Now, I really am starving and I would love to answer all of your questions but I don’t want to disturb Kyle. We can chat in the morning.” He pecked a kiss to your temple before striding off back towards his car.

“What? Why’d you come here then?” He spun around, a tinge of pink on his upper cheeks.

“I realize I left…abruptly. I didn’t want you to worry. I could say it’s because you’re head over heels for me because of the soulmate thing but really, you’re just kind. Kind people tend to worry about other people, even when they don’t quite deserve it yet.”

You crossed your arms, glancing down at your slippers. “Why do you pretend to be this scary bad guy when you’re clearly not him?”

“Because I can do a lot more good behind a mask. Good guy Dean wouldn’t have the connections I do to let me know your former boss wasn’t paying his taxes and has a history of sexual harassment. Good guy Dean certainly wouldn’t know how to get proof of that and how to relay it to authorities.” Your head snapped up, Dean pursing his lips. “You never thought it was curious why police never went after The Dark Lord with all his evil crimes?”

“Your whole thing is…a facade?” He shrugged. “So you don’t torture and kill people who wrong you?”

“I never said that. Stories get embellished is all.” You bit the inside of your cheek, Dean taking a step back. “I’ll see you in the-”

“Kyle’s not home. He made a few friends today. He’s at a sleepover.” Dean took a step forward, looking you up and down. “If you want to...talk now. Only talk.”

“Only talk. I’m good with that.” 

You were hot when you stirred the next morning. Your pillow felt hard as your eyes fluttered open to find a very bare chested Dean under your head. 

“Well good morning,” he whispered, kissing your temple. You narrowed your eyes, Dean breaking out into a laugh. “And they call me the scary one. They ought to see you first thing. Look ready to stab some eyes out.”

“Why are you in my bed shirtless? I do not hookup,” you growled. He shushed you, his large arm curling around your back. 

“Because you invited me to stay? I got ketchup on my shirt after our snack so it’s in the wash…you only have a two bedroom and we had a few beers…so you told me we could share…do you really not remember this?” Okay, maybe once your sleep deprived brain had a moment to think, you did recall inviting him into your bed, even if that had been a somewhat drunken ask. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said, laying back in bed, closing your eyes. “Just thought for a second we…”

“No. We didn’t do anything. But maybe I can cook you dinner sometime.” 

“Maybe,” you said, Dean shifting in bed, feeling his chin rest on your shoulder. “You’re like a puppy aren’t you? Now that I let you in the house you think you can stay.”

“I let you in my house first,” he said, nuzzling his cheek against your arm. “Sam would like to meet you if that’s cool, say thanks in person. He should be up for visitors later.”

“I’ll make sure to stop by. I’m glad he’s safe again.” Dean let out a heavy breath. “You were fuzzy on the details. What exactly did you give to Crowley to get Sam back?”

“It’s funny how much you can get done when you just talk to each other,” said Dean, letting him use your arm as a pillow, your fingers toying with his strands. “It’s well known Crowley’s queen was imprisoned eons ago. Well, turns out the wizard who did it died about fifty years ago after some freak accident.”

“So his magic would start to fade.”

“Exactly. Which meant the queen would die when it did fade on the spell he cast without some intervention. The wizard cursed it so only a soulmate with the curse could open the box. Crowley was running out of time and grabbed Sam as a last resort so to speak. He’s not my favorite person in the world but we came to an agreement to put all this behind us.”

“Sam for the queen,” you said.

“And Crowley sticks to the Darks Lands for the next thousand years. Figured that should keep things quiet for awhile.” You turned your head, Dean looking up through his lashes. “I never would have thought to just talk to the guy without you.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” You reached your free hand around to rest on his bicep. “You’re offense, I’m defense, remember?”

“You know, I don’t actually know if we’re romantic soulmates. Crowley wouldn’t spill on that. We might just be meant to be best friends.” You raised your eyebrows, offering a sleepy smile. “Hey, you asked earlier. I just don’t know if-”

You pressed a finger to his lips, Dean’s eyes darkening. “Why don’t we start with you making me dinner tonight and we’ll go from there?”

“What about Kyle?” he asked.

“While your concern for my little brother is extremely appealing, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind a night at one of his new friends again. Anymore excuses?” Dean pursed his lips, thinking hard. 

“You don’t feel obligated to do this because I’m your boss, right?” You rolled your eyes, Dean batting your hand away to roll on top of you. “Had to check. So. Dinner at seven?”

“Sounds great,” you said, staring up at him, Dean licking his lips. “Better run along, Mr. Dark Lord. Lots of terrorizing on the agenda for today I’m sure.”

“Between the torture and the maiming I mean I’m packed solid,” he teased, bending down, brushing his lips over yours. “Come by the mess hall at noon with Kyle. We have family lunch there on the weekends.”

“Sure thing Mr. Fluffy Lord.” Dean pecked a hard kiss to your lips, pointing a finger at you when he pulled back. “You’re so soft and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep it up, little thief.”

“One time!” you said, Dean smirking, your eyes widening. “How…how’d you know it was more than once?”

“My stock’s been short for the past year. No harm, no foul. Oh,” he said, climbing out of bed, ruffling his hair. “Remind me to talk to Michael about Kyle. He’s been researching it for the past few months and might have a magical fix for his asthma.”

“Months? But you didn’t know-”

“I knew someone was stealing the medicine and while we can’t cure everything, between magic and science, I figured he could solve it and we could put it out there.” You smirked, Dean pointing a finger again. “Do not call me Fluffy Lord.”

“Yes. You’re truly so evil.” 

“Damn right I am,” said Dean. “I got a skull mask and cloak even. Evil incarnate over here.”

“Whatever you say, Fluffy Lord.” You propped yourself up on your elbow, Dean narrowing his eyes playfully. “I hope you enjoyed this because you’re not getting back in my bed until you’ve earned it.”

“Already dreaming about the next time we share a bed, are we?” he teased. You flipped him off, pointing at the door. “Alright. I better get out of here before we have to explain this situation to a twelve year old.”

“Yes, please,” you said, Dean bending down, cupping your chin in his hand. Your heart caught in your throat, Dean smiling softly. 

“Thank you for giving me back Sam, beautiful.” He pressed a linger kiss against you, lifting his head and kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you soon, little thief.”

“Yes you will, Dark Lord.”

_____________

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter twenty-four — not friends. (💋)

[[ ALL WRITTEN CHAPTER ]] tw: lots of swearing, slight violence

Hu Tao didn’t think it was going to be this thorough working with Heizou.

For the past thirty minutes since four o’ clock in the morning, Heizou’s been doing nothing except making sure everybody in the group they came with was asleep. Checking all of the rooms and making sure they were accounted for while Hu Tao stood at the crook of the doorway in front of where Scaramouche was sleeping.

She truly wanted to find it funny, being the prankster herself. But she wasn’t laughing. “If you’re going to be patient with this, we may as well wait until he wakes up.”

“You can’t interrupt a crime scene like this. They’d just apprehend you.” Heizou whispered back, as quiet as the stillness in the night, continuing to trace his own steps back to the other rooms.

Hu Tao’s patience wore thin as she clenched her teeth, trying to contain her frustration by grabbing his arm and clawing her manicured nails into the meat of his forearm. “This floor is about to be a crime scene if you don’t fucking lock in, buster. You’re about to ruin it for both of us!”

"Ouch- alright, alright. Let go." Heizou winced, taking her silent warning.

With a begrudging nod, Hu Tao released her iron grip and approached the door with cautious steps, Heizou holding his own phone with his camera open at the ready.

She paused, turning to him and pointed a finger. "Remember, we're just looking. Don't accidentally send anything to anyone."

"Don't need to tell me twice, I feel grimy just doing this."

"And not kidnapping the kid?"

"You want me to be a child predator so bad-" Heizou was able to finish his sentence until he was cut off by a rustling in the distance.

"What are you guys doing?" A small voice asked from afar.

The both of them froze, slowly turning their bodies towards the source of the noise. Even when the hallway was as big as it was, the sound didn't seem to echo through the stillness of the night.

But the rustling stopped once a silhouette appeared from under a blanket and began to rush towards the other two. Hu Tao's heart damn near fell out of her ass, flinching at how fast Nahida came into vision.

"Holy shit," Hu Tao held her hands up in faux defense.

Heizou squinted at the girl before crossing his arms over his chest. "What are you doing awake, Nahida. Growing children need their sleep every night."

"Spare me the patronizing, Heizou. What are you guys doing in front of his room?"

"Wow. I didn't even know what 'patronizing' meant at that age." Hu Tao puffed her cheeks. "Maybe you're right, Heizou. My bad."

Heizou narrowed his eyes, reveling in his victory for a bit until he cleared his throat. His demeanor shifted into a nonchalance. "We were about to talk a walk. Just happened to be in front of someone's room."

Nahida raised an eyebrow, "At four in the morning? Sneaking directly towards his room?"

"He has the better patio view." Hu Tao chimed in. "You know how it is, sometimes you just need a little bit of fresh air."

Nahida was obviously not buying it. "Right." She said with a drawl as she looked at Hu Tao and Heizou dubiously. "And I'm the Empress of Snezhnaya. Don't act like I don't know that you two are plotting to take Scaramouche down."

"Foiled again," Hu Tao gritted her teeth. "Okay, we wanted to see if he had anything on his phone. Who wouldn't be curious? That guys a briefcase of suspicion, and I'm going to open it."

Heizou cringed, shooting Hu Tao a glare before sighing. "Yeah, Nahida. This would be a huge step in my investigation."

"You're unbelievable." Nahida responded with a disappointed frown. "If you really were curious about whether Scaramouche was doing something, it'd be less of an issue to just...oh, you know, ask him yourself? Not invading his privacy?"

"Now you know me directly asking a question would cramp my style." Heizou huffed. "We're not going to do anything except gather evidence. If there is none, we're out right away. Okay?"

There was something that was aching in Nahida, almost as if no matter what were to happen if she let them do this, things were going to go entirely wrong. With or without this happening, there was no keeping it at bay.

"Just be careful." Nahida looked in between them, sighing as her expression softened by a lot. "Whatever you find, handle it responsibly. I'm sure he's been through a lot of trouble with his own people already. We don't need more of it."

Hu Tao saluted. "No unnecessary risks. Gotcha."

Within an hour, they found themselves sitting in the corner of Scaramouche's room, looking through his phone. The soft glow of his phone casting a shadow on their faces. Every now and then, Heizou would take photos from his camera of what he'd think would be evidence for the future.

The both of them fell silent, hardly making an effort to talk to each other as they both became too interested in the contents. For some reason, seeing his life so formulated and established made it harder for Hu Tao to go through it.

"I think I'm done." She whispered before sighing, leaning back against the wall. "He's not even that bad of a guy. Ei is just a publicity demon."

"You're giving up?" Heizou looked at her.

"Yeah. I thought I would be happier to look through his things, but it seems like..." While Hu Tao was taking brief glances, her eyebrows raised at a certain detail that she missed while she was sitting there. "Wait a minute...what's that?"

"Huh?"

"He has a second account." Hu Tao pointed at the screen once she swiped the menu to Twitter. "See? It's the little circle with the 3d girl on it."

"You can make second accounts linked to your main?" Heizou scrunched up his nose. "I guess that would've been nice to know when I posted my abs on social media and the office job I tried applying to found it."

Hu Tao stared at him for a second, wanting to respond, but shook her head and continue scanning through his feed. "Sneaky little fucker." She laughed in disbelief. "I mean, I guess not- it's all just random posts too. He's not following anyone on this ac-"

Once Hu Tao tapped on his icon, her eyes widened. There was a mountain sized chill that came coursing through her body. One that she thought she'd never experience ever since (Y/N) cursed the entire Inazuma group out on their livestream.

Justsofamous338. An account from the series of accounts from Justsofamous.

"Oh my go-" She stopped herself from being too loud. "Oh my...fucking god. Heizou..." She said, her breath failing her.

"Jackpot, eh?" Heizou murmured, staring interested at the screen.

Her hands visibly trembled as she pressed the messages, her eyes glued to the screen. There were no messages from this account in particular, but the fact that he was even signed in was indicator enough. "He posted on this account two times. Both cryptic, but he definitely knows that you're looking for who he is."

Heizou was genuinely in disbelief that they both were met with a side of the sleeping Scaramouche that they didn't know about until now. How? How was somebody like that so capable of what he said to (Y/N)?

Either way, Hu Tao felt herself come to a boiling point. And with that pent up anger that she's yet to know what to deal with, she hardly slept for the rest of the night.

You didn’t know where you were for a good minute.

Despite how long you were out for, there was a nagging feeling inside of you that you should wake up soon after all the stress left. Your eyes fluttered awake, leaving your body to be wracked by the copious amounts of physical exercise you did the night before. If there was one thing you hated doing in the morning, it was waking up in general…and hurting.

But even with your pain and disorient, you still managed to regain your consciousness. The memories of the previous night, and how embarrassing they were, flooding back. You put your head in your hands, groaning in a miserably agony. “Why did I say that?!” You yelled.

“Stupid, so stupid. What the fuck?!”

It hung heavy in your mind, eyes dulling. You weren’t about to let it ruin your day, but the more you sat alone in the room that used to have Tohma and Ayaka’s sleeping bodies, the more you wonder if you’re in the backrooms or not.

After a few moments of looking at the groovy texture and the zig zags of the clock, you felt your resolve return. You put on your socks and slip ons, heading towards the sliding door and opening it…

Only to be met with Scaramouche on the other side. You almost screamed, but not because of him. It was because of how the barely cooked meat of the Shoyu ramen in his hands was touching the rest of the ingredients.

“Ah yes, my reminder of the unfortunate appears again.” You murmured grimly.

“What?” Scaramouche couldn’t help but let out a small scoff.

“Nothing. Morning, Kuni. Didn’t take you to be the type to wake up on the dot.” You tilted your head. “Something’s gone awry.”

“I wanted to see how you were doing in there. It’s almost one in the afternoon.” Scara said, holding the ramen outward towards you. “Breakfast. It’s really hot, so be careful.”

“I already had breakfast, Kuni.” You said, eyeing the ramen warily.

“You just woke up.”

“Yeah?” You contested with the same amount of attitude he gave you. “It’s called eating in your sleep. I’m good off your red ass meat. You didn’t even cook it.”

“You don’t eat it when it’s red, dickhead. You put it in the broth to cook it. That’s why it’s a conversational dish.”

“Spoken as if you want to have…conversation with me?” You asked as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Man, just say you have it hot for me already. This is embarrassing.”

“You wish, chucklefuck.” Scara said disgustedly as his violet eyes moved from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet. He couldn’t get past how ridiculous your pajama set was. “Lightning McQueen?”

“Limited edition. Like my crocs too?” You put your hands in your pockets, sticking one leg out so he could look at the full set easier. “You can afford a house in this day and age, but I can afford something you’ll never be able to get a day in your life without pulling out a mortgage. Eat that.”

“I’m sure I can live without it.”

“Nobody can ever live without the kachow in their life.” You snickered, motioning him over to the table. “Thanks for the ramen.”

You couldn't shake off the weird feeling around you as you sat down with him at the dining table. Tohma and Ayaka were already out of bed somewhere, and none of the rest were around to your knowledge.

You found yourself lingering in the ruminating thought, dipping the meat in the broth for a minute. "Hm," You mulled, "Long start to the day, huh? Were you the first awake?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." He shrugged, "I wanted to make sure everyone was accounted for."

"Ooh, the hospitality." You smiled. "Looks like you're already ahead of everyone else. Always on top of things."

"Are you impressed?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Impressed? Slightly. Planning to take advantage of it? Quite." You tried to keep your tone casual in case it was just you that felt this way. "Hey, uh...sorry about last night."

As he looked up, meeting your gaze, you almost wanted to look away. You could tell that he was trying to think about it. "What did you do last night?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to broach the topic. "...If you forgot about it, it probably wasn't even that important."

Even though the both of them sat in a comfortable silence, it was suddenly broken by Hu Tao busting through the doors of where she was "sleeping". Whatever was solidified as peace throughout their silence was destroyed, as there was now obvious tension.

Her eyes darted between the two of you, and you could practically see the metaphorical gears turning in her mind as she approached. She was visibly stiff, lacking any lax in her jaw. "Nice to grace us with your presence Scaramouche. Or something like that." You exchanged a hesitant glance with her, sitting back in your chair once you put a piece of meat in your mouth. "Did you just wake up? Why are you all clammy?" "No." Hu Tao hissed. "You thought you were fucking notorious, didn't you? Thought that you could just decide to coexist with us, huh?"

"What are you on about?" Scaramouche's brows furrowed.

"You tell me, Justsofamous." Hu Tao's voice was almost gravelly and aggravated, tossing her phone with all of the evidence popped up in her photos app. A storm was live and raging inside of her veins, turbulent and fierce. "Yeah, thought you could hoe us all out with that one? Playing with us like some fools, taking advantage of our obliviousness. Fuck you."

Your mouth twitched in disbelief looking at the said photos, looking slowly back at Scaramouche.

His face didn't say anything particularly outstanding, but there was something wrong about how he looked rather than his neutrality. Your heart began to beat with an extra pulse than you were accustomed to, trying to keep the adrenaline at bay.

"What's she talking about?" You asked him, holding the chopsticks in your hand with a tighter grip. "Scaramouche?"

"Scaramouche is Justsofamous, and him and Aether are like this." Hu Tao locked her fingers together. "They never stopped talking to each other. In fact, he's literally in the same group chat as all of our ops. Crazy, right?" Hu Tao shouted, causing the rest of the group to come out from where they were to see the scene.

You faltered in your look, feeling your entire being be worn down by the sudden outcome of your morning. "Scaramouche, say something." Tears formed in your eyes, entire face intense. "Say something..." You whispered.

But even though he was being put on the spot, there was no other way he could put it other than a small sigh in the end. "Surprise." He sat back, staring at you dead in the eye with uncertainty.

You became molten lava on the inside. Your hands were trembling with the same mixture of rage that burned within you like hot coals. And then all of a sudden, it was like all of the things that he called you, the blatant way he talked to you before he even knew you, his lack of hesitance when he poured coffee on you. The way he insulted you proudly, despite being in the wrong. He wasn't betting on being your friend, nor even an acquaintance. You knew, and you still gave him the benefit of the doubt.

He was taunting you.

In the grip of your emotions, your vision went red. Like a tempest unleashed against your body, you raged. The tears streaming down your cheeks were bitter, you were being crushed by a boulder of betrayal. "You...YOU!" You could barely make out your words from how choked up you were.

You rose from your chair in a flash, your chest ragged and heaving as you knocked the Shoyu ramen on the ground, the crash of glass and the food slightly burning you. "You fucking asshole!" You screamed louder and louder, and began coming closer and closer towards Scaramouche, pushing him.

"You got a fucking kick out of it, didn't you?! You LOVED acting like the savior, just so I could get comfortable. Fuck. You. You cum gargling piece of fucking shit!" You started pushing on his shoulder to intimidate him. "Tell me how much you loved getting under my fucking skin! Huh?! TELL ME." You screamed in his face, but you couldn't even bare to listen to him.

Your cries strangled your throat as Tohma held you back. You noticed Scaramouche's face pale, trying so hard not to break his composure but now refusing to make eye contact with you. His expression betrayed him, and you knew that he regretted it, but unsure of whether he meant it.

Did it matter anyway? You destroyed everything in your path, from paintings to throwing furniture around. Nothing was left untouched until Tohma held you back. His grip on your arms tightened, his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos. "Hey, calm down. It's not worth it."

You were almost beyond reason until then, you dropped to your knees despite all the force keeping you from it, and you sobbed violently. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You said with a full voice, screaming again, this time in a lot more pain your heart could exuberate. "You're rotten, Scaramouche. You're fucking rotten."

Having everything shattered in you wasn't fair, you knew it, and so did he. It's why he stared down at you with a flicker of vulnerability, a crack in the facade of his own indifference.

And no matter how much he wanted to respond, to defend himself, he couldn't. Because in the end, maybe all that this situation was destined for was damnation.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @melpomenelurks @liuaneee @yumejo89 (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[thatdarkfanficstuff]

Flutter - Chapter One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Mafia AU. Characters may act darker than you are used to. There will be adult content in later chapters. Steve is unhappily married at the start so there is cheating but not on Reader.

18+ Only.

Steve Rogers preferred to have meetings in the comfort of his home. On his own territory where there was no question who was in charge. But Stark’s boy had been causing issues at one of Steve’s clubs and he needed to make certain it wasn’t the beginning of a power play. Tony Stark was one of the few in the city that could cause real problems for Steve if he so chose.

So this meeting was taking place on “neutral” territory. An exclusive restaurant with private rooms and respect for its patrons’ privacy. If it was owned by one of Rogers’ shell companies, well, no one needed to know that.

The glow of the candle on the table flickered as Steve finished his meal and leaned back in his chair. His eyes scanned the faces of his companions as they too finished eating. Bucky Barnes sat to his right as always. His best friend since childhood and the only person he trusted without question. They had always been there for one another and Steve saw no reason that would ever change. Sam Wilson was on Steve’s left. He was a newer addition to the family but had proven himself more than reliable.

Across from him, Tony Stark lounged with an easy grace that belied the tension in the room. He sipped at his drink as his dark eyes studied Steve. It wasn’t often they found themselves at odds and neither man liked it. Stark much preferred drinks in Steve’s office than an awkward meal followed by thinly veiled threats. Bruce Banner sat to Tony’s left. He looked more like an accountant than an enforcer but he was one of the most feared men in the city. He was ruthless when it came to protecting Stark and his family. Clint Barton filled the last chair. As usual the man appeared completely at ease. Steve was fairly certain Barton would have a smile on his face and a quip on his tongue in the middle of a slaughter.

“Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?” Tony began, his voice smooth and strong like aged whiskey. “I have no intention of going against you. I’m not interested in being king. I just want to run my business as I always have. Let me tinker with my toys, let the cash flow and keep the streets just clean enough that the cops stay out of our hair.”

Steve’s gaze lingered on Tony, assessing the truth of his words. They’d operated in this city side-by-side for years. He didn’t see why it should stop now. He trusted Stark. But Peter, Peter was another matter entirely. Steve knew very little about him beyond the fact Tony had adopted him as a teenager. And he was smart, just like Stark. The boy was getting older, nothing said he couldn’t be getting power hungry as he aged.

Steve leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the table. “I like to think I can trust you, Tony. We’ve worked together for a long time. But you’re not the one causing issues. I need a guarantee that this is over. You can promise me anything you want but we both know you can’t control Peter.”

Tony pursed his lips but nodded in agreement. He could try to rein Peter in but there was no guarantee he’d be cooperative. “What do you need from me, Rogers? I don’t want a war but I’m not going to hand my empire over just because my kid stirred up trouble in one of your clubs.”

Bucky snorted a humorless laugh. “Stirred up some trouble? He put two of our men in the hospital. Nearly killed one of them.”

Steve held up a hand to cut off the rant. He rubbed a hand across his mouth and sighed. “I’m not going to pretend what he did was okay but it’s the fact that he claimed to be putting them in their place when he did it that is the real issue here. I can’t have him running around on a power trip, Tony. We both know what that sort of shit leads to.”

Tony rubbed at his forehead before raking his hand through his hair. “What can we do to get back to where we were? What would make you trust us again?”

“An engagement,” Steve said. The surprise of everyone in the room was obvious though they all tried to hide it. It was an unusual move but it would bring the Starks back under his control and might rid him of the irritation of his stepson at the same time. It would make Roman someone else’s problem.

“I’m flattered, but I’m already married,” Tony finally said.

Steve’s lips twitched. “Your daughter, my stepson Roman.” He leaned back and gave a lazy grin. “Everyone knows family is everything to the Starks. So we become family. Peter won’t want to embarrass his sister, he’ll behave and I won’t question your loyalties.”

Tony’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. “An engagement.”

“Family’s important,” Bucky said. “Imagine what ours could do together.”

Tony nodded slowly as he considered his options.

“Pepper won’t like it,” Bruce muttered.

“Pepper will like us having peace with Rogers,” Tony corrected absently as his mind calculated all the possible outcomes, weighed the pros against the cons. Morgan was young yet. He could push the marriage off until she was twenty. Maybe Roman would get himself killed in the meantime. He had a tendency to piss people off. This could work.

“Alright,” Tony murmured. “I agree.”

Steve’s lips curled up ever so slightly in the mere shadow of a smile. “Then we have an understanding.” He leaned forward slightly, the movement minor but deliberate. He held out his hand waiting for Tony to take it, to seal this agreement in the old way. Now it was all contracts and paperwork, but this family started in a time when a man’s word was law and a handshake was as good as a signature.

When Tony didn’t immediately take it, Steve arched a brow and said his name. “Tony.” There was a question in his tone, wondering if his old friend meant to keep to his word or betray it already.

Tony hesitated a moment more as his dark eyes ran over Steve. He was either questioning whether he should actually enter the arrangement or if Pepper was going to kill him for doing so. Morgan was the princess of the family. Which was why she was the perfect inducement for Peter to behave.

Finally, they clasped hands and Tony gave the ghost of a smile. “You’ve got an agreement, Rogers. Guess this makes us family.”

Bucky huffed a humorless laugh. “Make sure to point that out to your son.”

Tony’s jaw tightened. “I’ll make it clear as crystal.”

Steve leaned back and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder with more force than necessary. “Tony doesn’t need a lecture, Buck. He knows what’s at stake.”

Their business concluded, they rose to their feet in unison. Chairs scraped across the floor as they headed for the door. They exited out the back and stepped out into the quiet of the night. With one last nod goodbye they separated to their own vehicles to head to their own parts of the city.

***

Steve stepped into his house with a sigh. His gaze immediately found his stepson Roman where he sprawled sideways in a chair, one foot on the floor and the other leg draped over the arm carelessly. He was playing some sort of videogame and ignored Steve’s presence completely.

“Roman.” The name was not a greeting but a summons. A call for attention which Roman ignored as usual. “We need to talk. Now.”

When he still didn’t respond, Steve crossed the room and pushed the power button on the console.

Roman’s head snapped up. “What the fuck are you doing? I was playing that.”

“No shit. I guess you should have paid attention when I told you we needed to talk.” Steve smacked Roman’s foot that was hanging in the air. “Sit up when I talk to you.”

The boy did as instructed, though the resentment was obvious in every movement. Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I had a meeting with Stark tonight. We came to an agreement. You’re now engaged to his daughter. Congratulations.”

Roman shot up from the chair as if it were on fire. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not marrying that bitch. You’re out of your damn mind.”

“Watch the tone,” Steve snapped. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

“And I suppose I’m just supposed to give up the club and the women, for what? A ring and a lifetime of catering to daddy’s little princess?”

“If you know what’s good for you, you will. You know Stark won’t stand for any disrespect. You won’t have to marry right away. Get it out of your system now.”

“What’s going on down here?” Sharon’s grating voice drifted down the stairs in front of her.

Steve glanced over and flicked his eyes over the ridiculous robe she was wearing, a pale blue satin number with fake feathers at the neck and cuffs.

“Mommy, Steve engaged me to Stark’s daughter.” The whine had a headache blossoming behind Steve’s eyes. For fuck’s sake. The kid was twenty-two not ten.

Her eyes snapped to her husband. “You can’t just make decisions like this for him. You’re not his father.”

Steve took a step forward. “Can’t I?”

Roman’s backbone was apparently restored with the presence of his mother. “No, you can’t. You don’t own me.”

The corner of Steve’s lips flicked up in amusement. “It’s cute, really, how you think you have a choice.” He brushed imaginary lint from his shoulder then slid his hands into his pockets. “You both live lavishly because I allow it. Your comfort is due solely to my generosity.”

Sharon swallowed and lifted her chin to stare him down. “If you think you can bully us into—”

“You both,” he said, cutting her off, “enjoy a life others can only dream of. My terms are simple. Comply or forfeit everything.”

He paused to give his words a chance to sink in. “Think it over. The clock is ticking and my patience is in short supply.”

Roman’s gaze dropped first, defeat coloring his features. Sharon followed suit, her defiance crumbling in the face of the reality Steve laid bare. Everything they had, they owed to him.

Steve’s gaze flicked between them. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

[adalance]

There has been a rant bulding in me regarding this fandom for a hot fucking minute. The way people in this fandom use victimhood to defend and block any and all criticisms of characters (some more than others) high key feels like they missed the point of BG3. The point is to STOP the cycle of abuse and to be better than your impulses.

And when you don't, you are to be held accountable. You are not responsible for what happened to you, but you are responsible for your own actions and what you do to others. And your trauma does not give you the right to hurt others.

Also, alot of the characters in the game are assholes and its okay if somebody dislikes one of the characters, CAUSE THEY ARE ASSHOLES (minus like wyll and karlach). You can understand a character and know where they are coming from and still find them to be an asshole.

There is this knee-jerk reaction from people when they critique a character to say "just say you don't understand victims and go" or "you don't understand the imperfect victim". When that is not always the case.

And the way this fandom is about Wyll......... MY GAWD. This fandom, no matter the platform, will have people using the tiniest fucking thing to villianize him or make him to be the worst of the worst. When he is legitimately a good man. WYLL IS A GOOD MAN.

And the constant thing of trying to make him not be a good man reeks of racism and a weird ass insecurity for the other characters. You happen to like a character who may not be as good as a person as wyll, OWN UP TO IT. Admit that your fave is a shit stain. But do not tear down the only black companion over the tiniest shit to defend your asshole fave.

I have seen somebody call wyll a narcissist. When he is anything but. And you can probably guess who their fave is. There is no fucking need to treat wyll like that. Why is he held to such a different standard than everybody else? We all know why that is.

[anneboleyns-wife]

Guys, I feel the need to say these because there are some ppl who sympathetize a certain antagonist so much that they put the blame on other characters.

1. Lucifer destroyed humanity for "shits and giggles".

First of all, this statement is so fucking stupid. Did we watch the same show? Lucifer gave the apple to Eve to share the gift of free-will to her. Even if let's say the book at the start is completely wrong, the way Lucifer behaves shows that he does regret what he did. If he truly wanted to destroy humanity because he was "jealous" or fuck it, even "bored" why would he regret it?

He destroyed God's plans and if he truly wanted to do that, why would he say "These sinners are using the gift I gave them wrong." ? This alone shows that what Lucifer did was a mistake on his part. A big mistake, but you can't look me in the eye and tell me that it was okay to send him down to Hell for an whole eternity?

Trust me when I say this, if Lucifer knew that the apple contained Roo he wouldn't even give the apple. His thought process was "If I give this apple to Eve, she will be free and choose for herself." I am stand by this fact, Lucifer did not have ulterior motives with the whole apple incident.

Now, some might say "He is putting on an act in front Charlie!". And you abse this on what? He genuinely sounded sorry, and during the More than Anything song, he said "I don't want you to be crushed by them like I was.". If this isn't enough proof that he isn't in fact putting on an act, I don't know what to tell you. He is scared of Heaven, he is fucking traumatized and it surprises me to see so many people putting all the blame on him.

2. Adam is Innocent and Got Wronged by Women

This is just victim blaming. Again there is no proof that Adam wasn't abusive, the way he acts in the series just shows us that he is misogynistic and a jerk. He was a victim of the system too I'll admit. And I personally believe that only Eve ate the apple because why wouldn't the book at the start of ep 1 mention it?

He was spoiled by Heaven and he was never held accountable for his actions. Heaven never tried to fix his behavior, they just changed things up to appease him, which caused him to become a narcissist. We have no proof that Adam wasn't a toxic husband towards Lilith and by saying that it's Lilith's fault that Adam ended up like this is a wrong statement. It's just pure victim blaming.

You may think that Lilith won't be a good person, but again we don't have a proof of that! We aren't even sure that the woman on the beach is Lilith (there is like a lot of appearance differences between the Lilith we saw on the beach and the Lilith we saw on the family pictures).

. Conclusion

Hazbin is loosely based off of the bible. You can go ahead and create AUs where Lucifer is the bad guy, but I personally think that Lucifer has better morals than Adam. (Plus, Lucifer is Viv's favorite if you need a reminder) So I don't think there is gonna be a wild plot twist about the book at the start (at least for Lucifer's part.) Thank you all for reading this.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

72/10 & 74/5 Doesn't have to be pack but would be interesting to see ot8 reacting to reader saying the first half of each prompt. Like reader did something dumb (drank too much or did something dangerous while in a funk) and the guys are mixed emotions. Like some are all baby reader while at least 2 of them decided the cold facts are better.

SKZ PROMPT GAME

Prompts: "I want to get better, I just don't know how...." "That's bullshit."

"How, exactly, is this my fault?" "How is it not?!"

Members: OT8, Platonic BTS Appearance

Relationship: Mafia Boss's Daughter!FemReader x Rival Mafia!OT8

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Dark Themes, Guns, Mafia Shit, Hostages, Whump, Injuries, Torture, Minor Character Death

"Okay, no more surprises, right?" You ask into your earpiece hopefully, breathing hard, swiping some sweaty hair out of your eyes as you drag the last body into the storage closet and slam the door shut with your foot.

It's a tight fit, but you make it work.

"Yeah, right. Totally." Hoseok's voice echoes in response through the earpiece, and you hear keys clacking frantically somewhere in the background on some piece of equipment.

Something in his voice makes you take pause, and you blow out a huff of breath, leaning against the wall for a moment as you ready yourself to breach the next corner.

"Jung."

"Yeah, yeah. Here's the thing-" He hedges out, voice still bright, even though you're sure he's readying himself to tell you bad news. "-we accounted for all the security in our plans, right? But I'm getting some thermal imaging from the fourth floor that doesn't seem to fit."

You breathe out harshly through your nose.

The tactical gear you wear-dressed in black from head to toe-is making you sweat like a motherfucker, and the mask you wear is starting to itch.

"Fine. We'll deal with it when we get there." You bite out, creeping forward, gun held out cautiously in front of you, as you ready yourself to round the corner. "Just find us a clear path to the roof."

"Roger that."

You motion to the two men behind you to follow close on your trail, and dart around the corner, clearing the area with one discerning sweep of your gaze before you stand up straight and let out the breath you'd been holding.

"Fuck." One of the men behind you swears under his breath at the sight of the empty hallway, almost sounding disappointed. "I was really hoping there'd be more of our old friends waiting for us. I'm itching for a good brawl."

You toss him an unimpressed glance over your shoulder, and you see his eyes light with a grin behind his goggles as he shrugs easily, as if you haven't just finished demolishing almost a dozen men on your trek to this position on the second floor.

The other man elbows him hard in the side, making him yelp, even though you know he couldn't have felt it through the bulletproof vests you all wear.

Your father may be a bastard, but he'd taught you, and these men, how to prepare for a fight, you'd give him that much.

"Shut the fuck up, Tae. Only you would be disappointed we don't have a fight ahead of us."

"Park." You ignore their ribbing, and motion the other man forward to your side. He advances and listens closely as you say, "You and Kim take the north stairwell. I'll take the south. Hopefully Jeon will beat us to the rendesvouz point and back us up for whatever Jung saw on the imaging equipment."

"Got it, boss." Park intones seriously, before grabbing his buddy and dragging him down the hall to the intended stairwell.

You take a moment after they disappear, to catch your breath and quiet your thoughts.

You need to be on full firing mode for this next part.

You're about to face your father, and you can't back down. Not this time.

Not when he holds something so dear captive.

Creeping to the stairwell, you move upward, clearing the floors as you go, moving steadily toward your goal.

When you reach the door to the fourth floor, you pause, hand hovering over the doorknob.

"Jung."

"Yeah. I see you." You hear typing and then he says, "You're all clear from what I can see. Thermal imaging isn't picking anything up anymore."

You consider that, letting your hand drop to the door knob as you check in with the others.

"Kim. Park. You in position?"

"Roger that."

"Yes, ma'am."

You nod and take in a steadying breath, readying the gun in your free hand, ignoring the sweat that is dripping down your forehead and stinging your eyes.

"Min. You have visual of the rooftop?"

"Yeah." Your sniper comes in over the speaker, and you can hear the sneer in his voice when he says, "Bastard has everyone right where we thought he would."

That's good at least.

Your father has never been anything but predictable, and your little band of rebels, and friends, now defectors, used to be under his command, giving you the advantage in this attack.

You all know how he moves by now.

"Kim." You speak to the other hacker now, the one who has been silent all this time. "Make sure all the security feeds are looped still."

His deep, serious voice comes over your earpiece a moment later.

"Affirmative. You're good to move."

Taking that as your signal, you shove open the door to the fourth floor and go through, guns blazing.

No one is there.

"Fuck." You swear under your breath, because there should have been a small detail of your father's security here at least, if the pattern of the previous floors was to be believed, and it's suspicious that the floor is empty and silent.

Park and Kim appear from their respective stairwell at the same time as you, and you all stare each other down across the empty landing for a brief moment of frozen time.

"What the fuck-" Kim starts to say into his mic, glancing around, but is interrupted at the entrance of your fourth and final agent in the building.

"Jeon, what the fuck is going on here?" You demand, stepping toward the younger man, as he holsters his gun and slides a long knife out of a pocket on his tactical pants.

"They fucking all moved to the roof." He replies, slightly breathless, motioning with a jerk of his head to the open door behind him, leading to rooftop access. "They knew we were coming."

"Shit." Park swears vehemently, kicking his boot hard against the wall of the hallway, making a large whole in the flimsy dry wall.

"How did they find out?" Kim hisses at the youngest, who throws his arms in the air helplessly.

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?! How, exactly, is this my fault?"

" How is it not?! You were advance recon!"

"Okay, okay." You cut in sharply, reaching up under your protective goggles to rub at your nose for a moment. "We go on with the plan. He was bound to be one step ahead of us, but we accounted for that, because we all know how the son of a bitch works. We're fine."

The men nod, gathering their composure, pulling out their weapons once more as you turn for the rooftop access.

"Let's go-"

Before you can motion them forward after you, a gun shot rings out and a bullet ricochets sharply against the metal doorframe above Jeon's head, making him swear and duck for cover.

The rest of you don't hesitate, scrabbling behind debris and doorways to avoid the sudden rain of gunfire.

"What the fuck-?" Kim says for the second time in as many minutes, raising his voice over the sound of gunfire, as he leans out around the doorframe and takes down one of the guards rushing from the opposite end of the hall. "We cleared that stairwell!"

"What's going on? We lost video feed!" You hear Jung say through your earpiece in a panicked sort of voice.

"They fucking ambushed us!" You shout back, leaning around your cover to take a shot at an advancing guard.

He goes down with a sharp cry and a bullet in the chest.

"Fuck." Jung swears, and you hear him scraping his chair across to another console. "I'll try to get feeds back up. Hang in there."

"Fucking bastards." Beside you, Park leans around your shoulder to shoot another guard, this time, taking him down with a well aimed shot to the head.

Kim laughs gleefully, a little unhinged, shooting another of your father's detail in the slit between their goggles and helmet, blood spraying like a fine film across the opposing wall as the man goes down.

Jeon slides across the floor to take cover on the opposite side of the hall, taking down another two guards as he does so, a knife lodged in one man's throat, a bullet through the other's skull.

You're suddenly very glad in that moment that they're all on your side.

Another guard goes down on the heap of piled bodies, and suddenly, the hallway is quiet, the ringing in your ears from gunfire pitching upward as the dying men fall silent.

You stand up carefully, gun still at attention, surveying the area, and Jeon stands up with a groan across from you.

"Fuck, you're hit." Park exclaims, and your gaze instantly whips to Jeon as the other man hurries to his side, carefully lifting his arm and expecting the gunshot wound there, blood seeping sluggishly through the dark fabric of his tactical gear.

"It's just a graze, Jiminie." Jeon says with a slight grunt and a half smile in the other man's direction. "Nothing I can't handle."

You let out the breath you've been holding and glance to the stairs that lead to the rooftop, to your father.

"Okay. Let's go."

Behind you, you hear the other three men follow you silently up the steps, then,

"Why didn't you fucking warn us about the move to the roof, hyung?" That's Kim, hissing into the mic.

"I didn't fucking find out in time." Min grates back in response, sounding furious and on edge. "They cut the lights when they cut the feeds."

"Shit." Park mutters. "Another sure sign they know we're coming."

"We're walking right into a trap." Jeon adds, though they don't stop following you up the stairs, not even hesitating as you reach the door at the top.

"I know, but what the fuck else can I do?" You snap back in response, hand already on the doorknob, gun at the ready. "I'm not letting him have this. Or them."

A heavy hand goes on your shoulder, and you glance over into Kim's dark eyes, flashing behind his goggles with determination.

"And he won't." He offers you the hint of a grim smile and motions toward the door with his chin. "Let's give him hell."

You take in a deep breath, glancing around at the other guys, who look just as determined as their brother, and nod.

"Alright. On my count."

"One."

You turn the door knob.

"Two."

All your guns go up, the guys shuffling in to flank you.

"Three."

You slam into the door with your shoulder and all emerge onto the rooftop.

And just like you thought, your father is standing there, surrounded by his most trusted security detail, and at their feet, with guns to all of their heads, is your eight men.

You hold your gun straight, pointed right at your father's chest as you advance, expression hard, the three men right on your heels, though their guns are aimed at members of the security guard that flank your father.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Your father sneers, smirking smugly as you come to a stop about twenty feet away.

You don't want to risk getting too close and having him shoot one of the men at his feet in retaliation.

"Let them go." You grit out, as your eyes flick quickly over your men, taking stock of them, making sure they're all still in once piece.

Everybody looks okay. Changbin's got a slowly bleeding gash over one eye, and Chan looks like he's been pummeled in the face by the butt of a gun, but they're all alive.

"Where's the fun in that?" Your father holds out his hands, stepping up between Hyunjin and Felix, leaning over to jostle the rope tying Felix's hands behind his back, even as he winces slightly at the movement. "You know that's not how these games are played, my dear daughter."

"Your games are with me and only me." You hiss back, noting the blooming bruise on the side of Jisung's face, anger welling hotly in your stomach at the sight.

Your father tsks disappointedly, and motions to the men at your back.

"You made the game bigger after you sided with those traitors." Your father spits out, spitting on the ground in front of you, and you feel Kim tense beside you, but he holds his position.

He retreats slightly, moving to stand behind Jeongin, twisting his fingers in his hair as he tugs his head back roughly and forces him to meet your gaze. There's drying blood on his lips.

"After you chose them over me."

"It's easy to chose someone, anyone, over a father who never gave a shit about you." You sneer back, smirking now, as anger flashes in the depths of your father's dark eyes.

"I grow tired of this." He remarks coolly, tugging at his expensive suit, as he falls back behind the safety of his men once more. He waves a hand in your direction. "Kill them. But save her for last." He fixes you with a dangerous glare. "I want her to watch while I kill her little boyfriends in front of her."

The guards crack their knuckles, advancing toward you, and you mutter into your earpiece, "Kim. Do it now."

Your father laughs-a cold, unhinged sort of song. "Please." His eyes flick to Kim standing beside you, a haughty look on his face. "He can't get you out of this."

The corner of your mouth tips up, as a tall, dark figure appears on the rooftop behind your father and his men.

"Wrong Kim." You remark triumphantly, watching as your father's eyes widen minutely, before a chain of explosions echo around you and send the rooftop into chaos.

You dive out of the way of some of the debris as shouts ring out, losing sight of the other men as you make your way across the destroyed rooftop toward where you last saw your men.

There is the sound of gunshots to your left, and then you hear someone go down with a scream, but it's not one you recognize, so it must have been some of your father's security.

"Min." You mutter breathlessly, ducking behind a chunk of asphalt, as you shoot and take down another guard wandering in the smoke. "Take the stragglers out."

"Got it."

You jump over a fallen electrical line, sizzling in a puddle near the stairwell door, gun at the ready, and see a familiar form through the lingering ash up ahead.

Chan's gotten loose and is in the process of untying Seungmin, who has a nasty looking black eye, as Minho picks up a fallen guard's gun and covers them from the back.

He catches sight of you at the same time you see them, and before you can stop yourself, you're dropping your guard and running to him, taking his face in your hands and inspecting him, relieved just to have him alive and warm beneath your touch.

"Fuck." You breathe out, taking in the blood trickling slowly from what seems to be a split lip.

"Yeah." Minho remarks, giving you a lopsided smirk and an arched brow, always the one to keep his cool. "Fuck."

Chan finishes up with Seungmin and pushes himself to his feet, taking your chin in his fingers and inspecting your own face behind the tactical gear you wear with worried eyes.

"Fuck, princess. Are you okay?"

You laugh, but it's sorta choked, and nod as he caresses your jaw with his fingers.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"Thank god." He lets out a harsh breath and glances over his shoulder as the others come to join you, Hyunjin supporting Felix, who is holding his ribs.

You're just glad you're all still alive for this little reunion.

Changbin glares into the smoke, the gash above his eye still sluggishly dripping. "Where the fuck did that bastard go?"

"Hopefully killed in the blast." Jisung remarks, eyes narrowing dangerously, as he takes an offered gun from Minho and scans your immediate surroundings.

You open your mouth to respond, and an arm goes around your throat, dragging you backward from the men before you can react, knocking your weapon out of your hand.

You feel the cold steel of a gun go against your temple and then your father's voice, "Well, isn't this touching."

Chan's expression hardens as he stares your father down. "Don't do anything stupid, Reginald."

Your father laughs, and pulls you tighter against him, your breath choking in your throat, his words hissing hotly against your ear.

"We're far past stupid, aren't we, Mr. Bang? We passed stupid the moment you fucked me over in that little exchange of product and then took my daughter from me."

"We didn't take anything." Minho reasons coldly, expression unreadable, gun still in his hand. "Not the product. Not your daughter."

"Seems people-suppliers and daughters alike-have a habit of leaving you to find something better, hm, Reggie?" Changbin muses easily, though his eyes are hard and gleaming, like steel.

"Shut the fuck up." Your father snarls, wildly digging the gun into the side of your head, finger shaking over the trigger. "Don't push me or you won't like the consequences."

"And you-" He tangles his fingers into your hair roughly and yanks your head back so hard that you whimper slightly. He gives you an unhinged, dangerous grin, gun still aimed at your head. "-you are useless to me now. Soiled and ruined. The Yakuza's heir will want nothing to do with you, a common whore."

You bite down on your lip so hard you taste copper as he yanks your head back even farther, the gun digging into your skin painfully.

"All you had to fucking do was give me an heir, you little bitch, that's all I asked. Give me an heir to the family business, tie us up in the dealings with the Yakuza, but now-"

He laughs wildly, and you can tell, your father is losing control.

"-now you're nothing but their-" He waves the gun maniacally at your men, watching cautiously, not daring to make a move with your life hanging in the balance '-little slut, and I think it's time we end this whole charade."

"No, please." You gasp out, putting on your fakest, weakest, most imploring tone for him, keeping your face pleading even as he yanks on your hair once more. You force tears from the corners of your eyes. "Please don't kill me. I swear, father, I'll come back. I'll make good on my promises-"

His arm tightens around your throat and you choke on your next words, but his gun hand wavers against your temple.

Your father has always loved women who beg on their knees for him. It's his one weakness.

"Please! Please! I beg of you! I'm sorry! I'll do better. I promise! I want to get better, I just don't know how-!"

You swallow hard, trying to get air past his encroaching arm, and your father's lips pull into a sneer as he stares down at you, bold hatred brewing in his eyes.

"That's bullshit." He hisses out between his teeth, and his finger moves to the trigger once more.

You drop the act, glowering up at him.

"Yeah, it is. Get fucked, you son of a bitch."

His face contorts with rage and as his fingers pulls down on the trigger, you bash your head back into his face, his nose crunching beneath the force of your blow as he howls.

The gun goes off, but it misses, and you whirl out of his grip, taking out his legs with one sweep of your own, catching him off guard as he tries to stem the gushing blood from his broken nose.

He goes down hard, and you don't miss a beat as you pick up the dropped gun, standing over him with the barrel pointed right at the center of his head.

Your father glares up at you, hands still over his bleeding nose, and spits bloodstained spittle at your feet.

The front of his expensive suit is dampening quickly with crimson blood.

What a waste. Just like him.

You feel your men congregate at your back, and you hold your gun hand steady, staring down at the man who made your life a living hell, now nothing, groveling at your feet.

"If you beg, I might let you live." You offer in a hard tone, clicking back the hammer of the gun to cock it.

His eyes flash and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, blood dripping from his nose, down his lips.

"She might-" Chan steps up beside you, a hand going down on your shoulder as he stares down with unbridled hatred at the man at your feet. "-but I won't."

You cock your head, studying your father, and tsk slightly, like you're mulling something over. You crouch down, lowering the gun slightly, and stare right into his soulless rage-filled gaze.

"You know." You muse as he glares at you, gun still pointed vaguely to the center of his chest. "I used to dream of this day. Killing you, making you beg me for mercy, just like I begged you all those nights in my bedroom."

"But." You shrug, tossing the gun easily between your hands as you consider him. "My begging fell on deaf ears, and you know what? I think you deserve to know what that feels like. Goodbye, father."

You stand, and without another word, shoot your father in the head.

His body goes limp and blood pools beneath him, staining the already reddening ground a deep burgundy, soaking his expensive Armani suit.

"It's a shame." Hyunjin remarks off handedly, as Kim, Park, and Jeon all emerge on the other side of your father's body, pulling off their tactical masks. "It was a nice suit."

[alaskan-wallflower]

being so completely honest when i say this, but if you have a job, you should be showing up. it’s fine to call out every once in a while, but if you’re going two and half months hardly doing the full 8 show week because your role is “just so taxing” then you either find a way to make it sustainable or you take accountability and say that you need an alternate because you can’t do the show 8 times a week. everyone in the show has called out but no one has called out as much as brody has and in a professional theatre environment, you have to be a professional, take accountability for your actions, and respect the production, which includes showing up for your job. when jordan fisher was in dear evan hansen and sweeney todd, he called out all the time and guess what? when he got to hadestown he got his act together because he didn’t want poor attendance to be a part of his reputation. it doesn’t matter how talented brody is, if he’s gonna be in a broadway show, he needs to show up and take accountability for his actions.

okay? i don’t think it’s his call to make trevor an alternate. and agan, what’s with the sudden influx of brody hate in my inbox? yall know im a fan of him. of the musical. why do you send me shit like this? and what do you mean “he held accountable for his actions”? what actions are so dire that he has to “be held accountable” for? listening to his body? knowing that if his body says he can’t do a show then he can’t do a show? and he’s been in the show for a good fifteen productions in a row and he took one break and did another fifteen days or so. i’d say a break is well deserved. and plenty of actors take breaks. just because he happens to call out more doesn’t mean anything. and may i remind you that he’s being thrown around, he’s doing this all on the equivalent of an obstacle course, he does a while fight in the rain scene, the fire stunt, the dancing, the taxing of his voice is a lot. So yeah. I’d expect him to be out more and again, HIS ABSENCES ARE NO ONES BUSINESS! I don’t know why people only hold Brody to gunpoint over being absent like yeah, i get he calls out more, but he doesn’t make the call about an alternate. That’s out of his control. To even insinuate that is beyond idiotic.

And him and Jordan are completely different people. To compare them is unfair. and we don’t know if the reason Jordan is taking less absences is because he e”doesn’t want that in his record”-like honestly? Ponyboy is a much more taxing role than Orpheus because Orpheus at least has some downtime and while there is a lot more dancing in Hadestown, there’s also a lot more physical action in the rumble and the fire stunt and the rain sequence and whatnot.

i don’t know what it is with anons in my inbox and thinking they’re entitled to say what brody is doing in taking breaks when needed is wrong. you don’t know why he’s out and it’s not your business why he’s out. everyone is entitled to their off days. try playing pony boy for an eight week show and then you can talk shit. he’s allowed to take breaks and the fact you’re insinuating he can’t makes me believe you’re just being an entitled prick. he could very well be sick or just taking a well deserved break. and the whole “being held accountable” thing is bullshit. he’s not doing anything wrong in putting his own needs first. if he feels he can’t do the show at 100% then he can’t do the show. and i commend him for that.

idk what it is with all these people staying on anon either like if you can’t even say this without needing anonymity to cover your tracks you shouldn’t be sending this to me.

[northwest-cryptid]

Wait a second... does Mabinogi's ecosystem even make logical sense?

Okay listen, I know that technically speaking "nothing dies in Erinn" but you and I both know that's a load of shit. Animals "knocked unconscious" literally drop meat. We see foxes hunting chickens, we see wolves hunting sheep. I understand that a lot of this violence is explained through the lore of Fomors and such. However that being said it doesn't make sense. If animals were just becoming aggressive why don't they attack anything else?

Now you could say that it's as simple as the fact that other things aren't around. If we're looking purely at Tir that much is true, there are only Chicken near the Foxes, there's only Sheep and Dogs near the Wolves. Though if we look at Dunbarton we see an array of wildlife from Wisps, Bears, and even Imps, to Chicken, Rats, Cows, and Foxes. Yet the food chain seems to be completely undisturbed by this. We don't see the Spiders hunting the Sheep, we don't see the Wolves hunting the Cows, we don't see anything fighting the Bears or vice versa. These animals may be aggressive due to plot reasons but I think that logic is faulty. I think they're pulling a fast one on us, because we can actually examine a very specific food chain in action here.

By that same token, if we do look at how Mabinogi's ecosystem actually works, does it make any sense? Sure on the surface it absolutely does. Foxes hunting Chickens? That's true to life, and we could say the same for Wolves and Sheep. That being said however, we need to consider an important aspect of any ecosystem; that being that there's an established balance.

Yes we do actually see the Chicken and Sheep and Dogs fighting back against their predators. However that only accounts for mainly the natural animal life. If we expand that to Wisps, Imps, Kobolds, Skeletons, Trolls, Ogres, and various other overworld life forms who venture up out of dungeons or even just live on the surface of Erinn. How are these populations kept in check? They don't have any natural predators... other than... no wait- it can't be.

Were we summoned here to keep balance?

No I'm serious, there are no natural predators for most of the life that could be considered a "monster" by conventional means. With even most of the more "monstrous" animal life having no real competition in the food chain. Bears, Snakes, Spiders, Coyotes, etc; they don't get attacked randomly. The only natural means of keeping them in check would be either a lack of food or their prey animals killing them off.

We have heard stories, and even see in some cases that the humanoid races of Erinn do fight these creatures. Whether venturing into dungeons or simply defending the overworld. We don't get to see this naturally happen, but we hear about it and see it in quests and during the main storyline. I feel like it's safe to say that people in this world do fight these creatures, BUT only defensively. In most if not all cases of this it's a defensive measure; the sole exception I can think of being during dungeon runs. There's no natural predator of these monsters. Nothing that outright aggressively hunts them for food or sustainable material reason. Which means when these populations aren't wildly out of control and these creatures aren't being pushed out of their natural habitat and fighting for space on the overworld; they're not having their numbers kept in balance.

Though, there's good reason for this, these people are mortals; not all of them are strong enough. Not all of them have a knack for picking up new skills, learning and improving quickly; becoming strong enough to reliably and efficiently fight these beings. The Milletian is actually renown for these traits, held in high regard for not just our combat prowess, but our ability to pick up new skills and techniques quickly; and master them seemingly overnight without much issue.

Were we in fact really brought here to simply uphold the balance? Taught to fight and kill so that we could become the natural predator of the monsters that roam the world? Were we conditioned by not only the gods, but the people of Erinn to become a natural part of the ecosystem in order to stop the rampant over population of monsters?! ARE WE NOTHING BUT PAWNS IN A LARGER SCHEME?! IS THE TRUE WAR BEING FOUGHT VIA ECOLOGICAL WARFARE?!

Sorry I got a little carried away there. Seriously though I think we were brought to Erinn to become an apex predator with no rival; only when we did too good of a job the gods realized we could surpass even them. This prompted Morrighan to need us dead because we became so good at what we do, we became a predator to the very thing that felt otherwise untouchable. This is why the gods continue to challenge us, some of them wish to hone our skills through the tribulations thrown our way; others wish us dead for the threat we now pose to them. There are those among them who believe we need to become stronger, to bring balance to the ecosystem of the gods; the predator at the very top of the food chain. Meanwhile there are those who fear what would happen if we attain that power; and we have shown numerous times to already have that power without needing to become a god to obtain it.

On even a more mundane scale, consider how we're basically conditioned by the people of Erinn to partake in the life skills. Everything from weaving to blacksmithing has us traveling into dangerous areas that surround us with these monsters. A lot of the materials we need are dropped directly by these monsters, we've been given an incentive to fight; to kill without regard for population numbers or ecological impact. We don't think of it as anything more than gathering the materials we need to craft- what exactly is it we're crafting again? Oh that's right... weapons, armor; tools meant to make us better at killing.

So what happens when a predator is out of control and can't be stopped? Well if we look at a simulated situation in which we have a natural ecosystem and introduce an apex predator with no superior in the food chain; we will find that eventually they will kill off every other living thing until going extinct themselves due to having no natural food source left. Of course the gods want us dead, we're an invasive species that grew far too quickly and is out of control; Morrighan specifically likely feels personally responsible. She loves human and thinks they're special, right; and it makes sense that she would bring us to Erinn to fight for them. The problem is, looking back at that simulation, we could easily observe a situation in which entire populations go extinct due to demand outpacing population growth. If more and more Milletians come through the soulstream and begin hunting the foxes, wolves, bears, and spiders for materials, experience, drops, etc. At what point does Tir lose it's natural life? At what point does the sheep, dog, and chicken population grow out of hand because we upset the ecosystem. Does the price of chicken and eggs drop due to the over production? Do we stop breeding sheep dogs to protect our herd since there are no longer wolves? Does this effect the grazing habits of the sheep who would grow in number to the point they could turn the grassy hills of Northern Tir Chonaill into barren dirt mounds? At what point does Tir become a failing town. Would they have to migrate south to Dunbarton? Would people lose their jobs? Would the economy be in shambles because of the changes in the ecosystem?

If we think about just how powerful the Milletian really is, even in the early game; we begin to see an interesting pattern. The biggest contribution to Mabinogi's ecosystem, the one thing keeping it in check; the one thing that ACTUALLY keeps the balance?

Boredom.

We can see a sort of bell curve in the interaction between specific animal and monster species and the Milletian as they go along their journey. Early on the Milletian may wipe out fields of foxes, wolves, and spiders; but once they become powerful enough to begin fighting Bears and Wisps most of the other lifeforms are safe; they're simply not worth it. The Milletian would likely find it boring or even pointless to expend the effort to fight a wolf or spider that isn't outright attacking them, again going back to acting on self defense rather than predatory hunting. This could be said about almost every creature that exists outside of the dungeons, but even specifically for those that exist almost exclusively within dungeons.

As we examine a power increase in the Milletian, pushing them higher up on the food chain; we also see that they ignore the life that falls too far below them. No longer concerned about the creatures who couldn't put a dent in their armor, or would only take a single blow from their weapon of choice. There comes a point when spending the energy, durability, ammo, or even just time; on fighting something becomes a cost that isn't worth whatever the Milletian would gain. It's why the Milletian seeks out bigger and tougher prey animals/monsters. It's why they inevitably will end up hunting the gods, and it's exactly why the gods want us dead.

[starrgaziinggg]

SMAU | UNDERCOVER JYP-U

chapter thirteen -> feelings and secrets (written, 4K words)

directory | next chapter ->

"Okay, so that concludes the meeting?" Chan begins to wrap up, clasping his hands together. You take it as your queue to gently nudge Jeongin's side, forcing him awake after having dozed off halfway through your regular Friday afternoon student body meetings. It was safe to say Jeongin may not have been the best choice for the demanding role, yet here he was.

The sun was streaming through the large floor to ceiling windows of the meeting room, so you didn’t blame him for letting the warm sun send him to sleep. You were feeling hazy yourself, having to force yourself to stay awake through Chan’s words.

Jeongin smiles sleepily at you, leaning his head on your shoulder momentarily while the others conclude the discussion about the relevant topics, primarily the events of the charity week occurring at the beginning of the next month.

"You have until next week to choose the specifics for what you will actually do, but you've now chosen your teams for the events, right?" Chan asks, and you all nod your heads - bar Jeongin, of course, who just looks to you with a raised brow. You wave your hand, indicating you'd inform him of what he'd missed later.

The charity week was a week of events that ran once per semester. This year, your chosen charity was World Vision, and your collective aim was to raise a large sum of money to send off. It was known that most of the students that attended you university and their parents were well off, which meant it could hopefully be achieved.

There would be a multitude of events held throughout the week, and opportunities to donate constantly. It was your job as a member of the student body to advocate for the charity and push for as many donations as you possibly could.

Although it was difficult to balance the duties that came with being a student body representative with uni work and a social life, organising the dance course's activities for charity week was a great way to take your mind off of the shit show that was social media right now. Thankfully, Jisung's tweets were very well received, and he didn't get in too much trouble, but you dread to think of would could have happened to him if that weren't the case.

You were also dreading the inevitable next 'secret' that this awful account was going to expose next. It was as if you were constantly glued to your phone, refreshing Twitter like a fan girl on steroids with a constant lump in your throat. Nothing had been posted since last week, though, so you hoped it was going to be a one off.

"Excellent," Chan says, distracting you from your thoughts. Jeongin lifts his head from your shoulder to pack up his belongings, as if he'd used them in the first place. "I think we're taking a well needed break from alcoholic induced social events this week, so if I don't see you guys during the week I'll see you again, here, next Friday."

The way he switches so quickly from his head-screwed-on leader mode to his laid back, casual friendship mode never fails to crack you up. It's as if he has a split personality, and you commend him for being able to juggle everything as efficiently as he does. Once you finish packing your bag, Ryujin makes her way over to you. As the admin of the student body, she sits to the right of Chan in the school's meeting room, whilst Changbin - the vice president, sits to the left.

It was definitely an awkward hour, the two of them on edge with each other after their conversation over coffee the other day. Ryujin had come home and spilled everything to you and Hyunjin, sprawling on your bed beside you and delving deep into their conversation. Hyunjin had even taken a break from his art piece to listen intently to her, putting his input in and giving her advise when she asked for it.

Having Hyunjin over was a lot...nicer, than you'd expected it to be. He was quiet and pleasant and save for the hour he got bored and had a rush of energy, he kept to himself and worked hard at his painting. It was nice to have his company, the two of you not speaking and simply getting your work done in peace. His artwork came out beautifully, too, which left him heading home in a great mood.

That photo he'd posted was still on your mind, though you'd never admit that out loud. 

"God that was a drag," she drawls, flopping to lean on the table in front of you as you stand up, the others heading out the door. "I love Chan, but these things could be over in fifteen minutes if he kept it simple."

"He'll have an aneurism if you tell him to shorten them," you snort, walking out the room with Ryujin's arm linked in yours. Lia and Yuna had told you earlier they were going shopping after the meeting, so you watch them walk in the opposite direction to you and Ryujin after saying goodbye. They'd invited you guys and Chae too, of course, but you knew if you indulged in their shopping spree you'd spend far too much, and the cost of being a Uni student did not come cheap.

So, you'd arranged a quiet night in with some of the guys. Jeongin had just bought a projector, so the plan was to hook up Jisung's fancy laptop to it and set it up in your dorm. You would have gone to the guys dorm, except Minho's recent cooking escapade had not ended well, and he'd informed you that his dorm had smelt like rotting eggs for half the week. Decidedly, your dorm was the agreed upon source of comfort for the night.

Chan had some more meetings with some uni higher ups about charity week, so he'd bailed, and Changbin and Ryujin's awkward situation had caused him to give it a pass too. Seungmin said he'd be making an appearance after his classes. Since half of his double major was English, he attended lectures at your sister school, the mainstream Uni across the road, which meant his schedule was pretty jam packed.

That left Minho, Jisung, Hyunjin, Felix and Jeongin turning up at your doorstep holding various different items an hour after you'd gotten back to the dorm.

"What's all this?" You hear Chae ask as the raucous tumbles into your dorm. You make your way out of your bedroom to greet them, Ryujin following behind you after the two of you had scrolled on tik tok for the hour in between your meeting and now. The boys were all in their comfy clothes; hoodies and joggers, much like you girls.

"Jeongin's got the projector," Minho informs you as he gives you a smile and hands you a box. You'd barely seen him this week, since he was starting to skip classes more regularly. You were surprised he hadn't been reprimanded for it yet, but Minho somehow got away with anything and everything. "That's a cake."

"I've got snacks!" Felix says cheerily, showing you bundles of crisps and bags of chocolate in his arms.

"Why have you brought a cake?" You ask, smiling at your blonde headed friend as he sports his usual grin, turning back to Minho. He shrugs.

"It was my, 'I'm sorry your deep dark secret got posted on the internet, here's a cake' cake, but Minho and Felix somehow forgot that I don't like chocolate icing, so now you guys can eat my pity cake," Jisung explains, already flopping onto the sofa with his laptop, though he's smiling as he says it. He's received mostly praise and positivity over the internet recently, so he wasn't in all that of a bad mood about the whole ordeal.

Felix smiles sheepishly, dumping the snacks onto the table. The other guys start making themselves comfortable too, Hyunjin flashing you a grin as he flops down beside Jisung. Minho has to step in and help Jeongin set up the projector when Jeongin announces he actually has no idea how to work it, and it takes them a further twenty minutes to set the whole thing up.

You're not complaining though, since after a collective agreement to watch the second Shrek movie (arguably the best one), you're nestled in between Chaeryoung and Minho on the sofa with Ryujin between your knees on the floor.

Surprisingly, you all sit relatively in silence, save for some commentary throughout the movie. You pinned it down to the fact that everything surrounding your group had been nothing less than dramatic recently, and you could all use a chill night together to relax. Seungmin shows up halfway through the movie, taking a seat on the floor.

You're just about to choose a second movie to watch when Yuna and Lia turn up, their arms littered with shopping backs. Yuna sighs exasperatedly, dumping the bags on the ground when she comes in, whilst Lia says a hello to everyone before going into her room.

"Do the stores you went into have anything left in them?" Minho scoffs, raising a brow at his blonde haired friend. She sticks her tongue out at him. "But seriously, how much did you buy?"

"A lot," she replies, gleaming. You shake your head at her with a smile, loving her dramatics. She was an actress through and through. "The stores were giving today - I bought, like, twenty things in one shop alone."

Ryujin whistles, grabbing Yuna's bags and sifting through them. You were sure she'd give you a proper haul tomorrow. "This is some good shit," she says, nodding. "I'm so jealous, I wish I had money to splurge."

"What about the bee movie?" Jeongin interrupts absentmindedly, leaning over Jisung to watch him scroll on Netflix for a movie. Seungmin shakes his head, standing up to join them.

"We watched that last week, remember?" He says, and Jeongin nods with an 'ah'. Seungmin leans his hands on the side of the sofa before looking up at Yuna. "How do you even afford all that?"

Yuna shrugs, snatching the top that Ryujin was eyeing up and shoving it back in her bag. "Daddy's money. He's gonna cut me off soon though, I just know it."

"Your dad lets you buy all this?" Seungmin says, eyebrows raised. "Damn."

"He likes spending his money on me," she counters, collecting all her bags before making her way towards her bedroom. "I may as well take advantage, right?"

Seungmin rolls his eyes with a small smile as Jeongin points to the laptop screen. Hyunjin makes a face at you, mimicking Yuna and her shopping bags, and you can't help but to laugh with him.

"What's so funny?" Ryujin says to you curiously, turning to look up at you. You simply wave your hand in response, sharing another look with Hyunjin as if you two are in on some silly secret. It was as if you couldn't help yourself gravitate towards him recently.

"What about titanic?" Hyunjin perks up, looking towards Jisung. There's a collective squeal from you girls, and Yuna and Lia both thumbs up the movie as they join you, Yuna already having changed into her pajamas. They both squish up on the floor.

"Not happening," Jisung groans, and you remember how he'd told you it was the only movie that had ever successfully made him cry.

"Oh come on," Felix protests with a whine, finishing off a bag of gummies. "It's a phenomenal movie!"

"I'm in agreement with Jisung, here," Seungmin says, giving up on the movie search and slumping back to the ground. "It's so long."

"Yeah, but it's worth it," Chae tries to justify, pleading after having to put up with Shrek for an hour.

Hyunjin looks as you, as if he wants you to back him up, so you sigh in defeat. "It's one of my favourites," you say, feeling everyone's eyes turn to you. "Plus I'm injured. Injured girl rules all."

Jisung and Seungmin groan together, knowing they've been defeated as Jisung searches the movie and starts playing it. Yuna even goes as far as to turn off the lights, leaving the glare of the movie screen the only illumination in the room.

Three hours later, almost everyone is in tears after having sat through the movie in almost dead silence. The only noise that was heard from you was during the sex scene, when you laughed as Jisung attempted to cover Jeongin's eyes.

"It's so sad," Felix sniffles, wiping at his eyes with his hoodie sleeves when the credits roll. Yuna turns the lights on again, and turns to reveal her red puffy eyes. Ryujin laughs at her, but she's none better, tears practically streaming down her face. The only dry eyes in the room are Seungmin and Minho. Even Jeongin, who's always trying to keep up with a tough exterior has tear marks on his hoodie.

"Hyunjin, I hate you," Jisung bawls, unable to hold back his tears. "Do you enjoy making grown men cry?"

"Hey, I'm crying too!" Hyunjin defends himself, and when you look over his eyes are brimmed with tears. He wipes them away sheepishly as he smiles at you. You think it's so cute he gets so emotional at movies like this - you remember when you'd all gone to the cinema to watch something Felix suggested and he was sobbing beside you the whole way through. "Plus, you're hardly a grown man."

Jisung only scoffs in return, attempting to get his sniffles under control. "How are you two not crying?"

Minho and Seungmin turn to eachother, and Minho shrugs. "I've watched it a million times, I know the plot. Plus, when have you ever seen me cry?"

"True," you say, giving him a nudge with your shoulder. He chuckles at your tear stained cheeks and offers you his hoodie sleeve, which you take and use to wipe your eyes. "Seungmin? Jack Dawson's death didn't hit hard for you?"

He shakes his head with a brown, his dark brown hair flopping over his forehead. "Not really. Like Minho said, I know the plot, and it's expected."

"You're insane," Yuna gasps, unable to comprehend the fact that the saddest movie of all time hadn't been able to make him shed a tear. "You must be made of steel."

He only shrugs in response, standing up and stretching out his limbs. "Should probably head back; that movie went on for ages and I've got shit to do tomorrow."

That spurs a collective agreement from the guys, the ones on the floor repeating Seungmin's action. Jeongin shakes his legs out after having them cramped up to his chest to make room for Lia beside him. "It's a Saturday, have a rest."

Seungmin ignores the comment, picking up his jacket and putting it on. You stand up too to say your goodbyes to them, when Minho tugs at your arm.

"Help me up," he whines, so you pull him up with a roll of your eyes. You miss the way he winces as you do so, turning to give Felix a hug, the boy waiting patiently with his arms open.

"Why don't we go for coffee tomorrow?" He says when you hug him. "Dance crew study session, like the good old days?"

"I'd be up for that," you reply with a nod, since you hadn't had anything planned for tomorrow anyway. "We do have to have our ideas ready for our practical on Wednesday, so would be good."

"We do?" Minho questions with his arm slung round you as his goodbye, which makes Hyunjin laugh as he leaves his departing conversation with Yuna.

"Maybe you should start attending lectures," he says slyly, looking toward you with a smile after Minho rolls his eyes and removes his arm from your shoulder. Hyunjin steps towards you, bringing you into his chest momentarily. You're slightly startled by the action, since Hyunjin is never really physically affectionate with you like Felix or Minho are, but you accept the hug. Everyone else was hugging goodbye, anyway.

"Maybe you should hop off my dick," Minho retorts, sticking out his tongue as Hyunjin pulls away and picks up his jacket.

"Gross," Jeongin gags.

You shake your head, laughing, in an attempt to ignore the butterflies forming in your stomach. "So, study date tomorrow?"

"Sure," Hyunjin confirms, looking over to Chaeryoung who turns away from saying goodbye to Seungmin to give a thumbs up.

"I could use it," Minho admits, and Felix claps his hands.

"Great! Aw, we're getting the old gang back together!" He smiles, and he's so happy that you don't tell him your 'gang' talks regularly on your dance group chat and is with each other almost every day.

The guys all head off then, leaving the five of you girls alone with a pile of sweets and crisp packets strewn everywhere and a half eaten cake on your table. You start cleaning up instantly, not wanting to have to deal with it later.

"So," Ryujin says, slyly coming up to you and nudging your shoulder before starting to pick up the mess. The other girls begin helping too. "Mr Hwang hugging you goodbye? Now that's an unforeseen action if I've ever seen one."

You give her a look, but your facade cracks when you can't help but to sigh with a smile. "Am I reading into that too much? Or was that a moment."

"That was most definitely a moment," Ryujin confirms, taking the trash bag Lia hands her with a smile and starting to dump the rubbish into it. "He didn't hug any of us goodbye."

You smile inwardly, unable to help yourself. You wait until Lia is back in the kitchen before you say, “Is it bad that I kind of like him?”

Ryujin laughs - a loud, bent over hysterical laugh as you watch her with raised eyebrows. She steadies herself with a hand against the arm of the sofa as Chaeryoung comes through at the noise.

“What on earth is all that about?” She questions, clearly fed up with cleaning as she flops onto the sofa and puts her fear up on the table.

“She’s finally admitted she’s got feelings for Hyunjin,” Ryujin says, grinning at Chae like a mad woman.

Chaeryoung’s eyes visibly light up, and she turns to you with a smile. “You’re kidding!”

“I never said I have feelings for him,” you point out, though it’s futile at this point since your two friends are squealing together. Shaking your head at them, you finish clearing the last of the trash up.

“We called it months ago,” Chaeryoung sighs, a glazed look in her eyes. She pulls her long dark hair behind her ears. “I like to think this is all because of me.”

“It kinda is,” Ryujin responds, moving the trash bag so you can dump the remanence into it. “You cracked the surface, and they did the rest.”

“Can we stop talking like we’re in a movie, please,” you groan, flopping down beside Chae and letting Ryujin dispose of the trash bag. “I can’t believe I actually probably like Hyunjin. Past me would piss herself.”

“That she would!” You hear Ryujin shout through from the kitchen, followed by audible confusion from Yuna and Lia.

“He definitely likes you back, anyway,” Chae sighs excitedly, clapping her hands. “It’s so obvious. When are you gonna tell him?”

“Woah woah,” you say, putting your hands up. Chae frowns at you. “We literally just reconciled our differences a couple weeks ago - let’s not move too fast here.”

“Well you need to tell him,” Ryujin says blatantly when she returns to the room, standing with her hand on her hip. “Or else we’re gonna have to watch him pine after you all semester.”

You roll your eyes at her. “He does not pine after me, Jesus,” you say, though you watch your friends share an obvious look. “I’m just gonna see how things go for now, and if I’m still feeling this way in a couple weeks then I’ll think about telling him.”

Ryujin and Chaeryoung groan simultaneously, Ryujin throwing up her hands exasperatedly. “We finally get a bit of drama that doesn’t make me want to cry and you’re not even gonna indulge us?”

“Charity week,” Chaeryoung says with a shrug, making you both turn to her. “It’s two weeks away - if you still think you like him, that’s your deadline for telling him.”

“I have a deadline now?” You stress, thinking about how you’d only started to realise your feelings towards Hyunjin yourself not half an hour ago. Chae nods decisively.

“It’s the perfect time. There’s always the big party at the outdoor auditorium at the end of the week with fireworks and stuff - how romantic would it be to declare you feelings then?” She gushes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. Ryujin turns to you with a crazed look, nodding.

“She’s so right. Plus, if my relationship scenario is a shit show, I want to live vicariously through you,” she smiles.

You tilt your head at her, thinking about what she’s told you about her conversation with Changbin the other day. “I thought you said you were on good terms now?”

“Yeah we are, but this whole ‘just being friends’ kind of sucks. If he wasn’t all over the place right now I’d be with him. I dunno, I just…feel like I need someone right now, but he just can’t be that person,” you nod, placing a hand on her knee to comfort her.

“I’m glad you’re mature enough to understand that,” you say honestly, Chae nodding her head. Ryujin had always been such an independent person - her self sufficience and bold personality having slightly intimidated you when you’d first met her. After the shit show that was last semester, you’d seen her demeanour crack, and you’d sworn to yourself to try and not let that happen again.

“It will be so much better for you in the long run to have some time apart. You still like each other, you still want to be together, just not right now,” Chaeryoung says with a sad smile, resting her head on Ryujin’s shoulder momentarily. “Right person, wrong time.”

“I guess,” Ryujin sighs. “Doesn’t suck any less though. You know what we should do next weekend? Clubbing.”

You instantly groan at the idea, knowing clubbing was not your scene these days. Your group used to go clubbing regularly, but you’d decided the late nights and hangovers were just not worth it anymore. You would, however, indulge your sad friend if she needed you too.

“Fine,” you say after a second, which makes Ryujin smile. Chaeryoung agrees too, and after finishing your talk with the other girls when they come through to join you, you all go your separate ways and head to sleep.

The next morning, you wake up at a surprisingly reasonable time, the sound of Yuna practicing lines making you stir. She’s up earlier than you, for once, which is rare for her, but you knew she had auditions for the end of year show coming up soon, so she’d been practicing lines non stop.

You’re just about to grab your phone to check your messages when you hear her scream. It startles you, causing you to practically jump out your skin and rush through to her room. Lia is right there with you, sharing a panicked look as you both burst through the door, staring at the back of Yuna’s head.

“What the hell?” Ryujin says groggily, walking through in nothing but her underwear from the sudden commotion. Chaeryoung follows shortly after, her hair a riot and having obviously just woken up. You all crowd round Yuna who’s on her phone, watching her slowly turn around you with the colour drained from her face.

Chills run down your spine when she days, “That Twitter page posted about me.”

tag list

@cursed-mars-bars @https-skzology @imasimplol @hyunverse @aestaeticous @dorisnumber1fan @tasteskz-sword @amnmich @detectivedoodle @amara-mars @end0rchans @raresevng @thementallyunhinged @nhyun @lixie-phoria @llavendarlilacc

[anony-mouse-writer]

Okay okay okay. This is literally gonna chew on my brain, so.

Here I list the tenets that guide the blooded sword:

I. May all that you face have a fighting chance. Any sword raised to the innocent or unarmed in cruelty is blackened by its shame.

[If he won’t move, move him. This must be done.]

[He could shove Tanguish back against the wall, stun him with the blow, and his sword would be in his hands before Tanguish knew what happened.

II. May your wrath be stoked only by the Saint's wrath, tempered by the Saint's fire, and quenched by the Saint's blood. A fool are they who, gifted the Saint's power, use it in wrath or malice alone.

His body still shook like the innervated sparks of a kicked campfire, but the parts of him that mattered, that controlled his voice and his will, felt so near to nothing it was startling. Transcendent. There was just a simple surety: he was going to make Wels pay for this.

[Do something.]

III. May you meet every adversary with honor, nor despise them for their challenge. May every battle prove your glory, and every accepted challenge prove their equal.

“He’ll make you kneel like that t-too and he’ll kill you, and you won’t be able to do anything to stop him!”

“Then I won’t give him the chance to command me.”

IV. May you be steadfast and know no retreat, for the back turned is once wounded and twice deserving. May every wound won show no proof of running.

V. May you meet every obstacle with courage, for just as all that emits light must endure burning, all the courageous must make a brother of their fears.

Helsknight felt his breath begin to heave, the silent determination of his wrath giving way to something nastier and more desperate.

VI. May your word be law, as binding as chains, and as chains may it drown you when bound in deceit.

“I didn’t promise that.”

“You did!”

…

“Then it's a promise I’m breaking.”

VII. May you seek the counsel of your elders, those more versed in the order and its ways, and respect their word once given, for their communion with the Saint is long, and their wisdom earned.

VIII. May you persevere to the end of any enterprise begun, for the folly is theirs that, through unfinished business, never gain wisdom from deeds done.

“You said we were in this together,” Tanguish said quickly. “Keep your promise and stay.”

IX. May you respect the honor of your fellow helsmet, that none may know you cruel or slave to vice. For no creature, be they sibling of order or beggar or king, is ever deserving of dishonor or pain.

Tanguish was so small, and so fragile. And he was so scared of pain, maybe all he really needed to do was turn around and grab the knife off the table, and then Tanguish would run.]

X. May you treat all siblings of sword and order as your own, held accountable as you would so hold yourself. A villain are they that stray from their tenets, and a villain they that allow it.

- Redstone and Skulk, @silverskye13

…

okay, so now that we’ve gone through all the ways Helsknight broke his tenets this chapter, lets talk about the WoG confirmation that the red text is the will of the his Saint and his accusation that Tanguish is twisting his tenets.

…… yeah I mean, he kind is. He’s admitted to it in the past too.

Like, obviously I am deeply unwell about this series in general, but Helsknight’s devotion to his Saint is so fucking fascinating to me personally. Holding to a code no one else has to is hard as shit and the Saint’s code is pretty vicious. But part of the code also addresses getting help from others and I don’t even know if there are others of the order?

BUT what there are others of, is the champions of the arena. And Helsknight has been forgoing their help for a while and the Hand calls him out on it. Helsknight just now realizing that he doesn’t have a lot of things grounding himself to him instead of Wels (and self-admittedly ignoring several of those things of late) isn’t healthy and he needs to reach out and he needs someone to hold him accountable, either to his tenets or whatever internal logic he decides to replace them with, and I don’t think it can be Tanguish, because I love him, but he’s absolutely a manipulative little shit who will use Helsknight’s code to his advantage in tense situations.

Hels doesn’t get much in the way of happy endings and I’m not entirely convinced that the ideal scenario for Helsknight to follow his tenets to the letter at this moment would be to muster up his allies and a battle plan and then march on hermitcraft to duel Wels or something. Which would be lowkey highkey horrible for everyone involved, not gonna lie. But I also have to wonder reallly strongly about how the red text of the Saint’s will directly violated several of the tenets and what that means for Helsknight going forward.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

I noticed that episode 1x08 Richie and Carmy are held accountable, and there's this message of men holding things in for the sake of their masculinity.

As far as accountability. One could compare Tiffany/Richie scene where he leaves Tiffany a voicemail in jail and the Carmy/Syd text.

Richie: I was thinking about all that shit that went down with your dad. And uh, how I called him what I called him, and uh, you were right, you know? That was not okay, and um, I'm sorry.

Carmy: (text to Syd) My behavior was not okay.

Richie and Carmy have to face something head on - Richie is stuck with the reality that he may be charged with manslaughter and Carmy is holding Mikeys note. They're facing this difficult truth, and they contact the women they were once close to. Richie lost Tiffany, and in this episode, Carmy lost Sydney, but they still needed their support.

But since their relationships with these women are broken and the support and trust are gone, they could only apologize for their behavior.

It's about fixing their issues so they can old on to the people dearest to them. It's men no longer holding in their feelings. I say this because of Fak and his talk with Ballbreaker

Fak: Do you ever get sad?

Ballbreaker: Of course I do, Neil, but I don't talk about it. I keep it all inside it helps me beat the shit out of people.

The men in this show hold everything in, including their affection. Another Tiff/Richie comparison is season 2, we see that Richie is so gentle with Tiffany when they're alone vs. in public telling the family she's fine. But we get this moment of quiet between Richie and Tiffany just like we get these quiet moments with Sydney and Carmy.

I can say this is the Berzatto man effect. Hiding their feelings in front of people unless it's anger. Even though Richie is not a blood relative, he still grew up with the Berzattos.

As it was mentioned here, Pete, who's very open with his feelings for the woman in his life, he has no problem crying in front of friends of family and showing how much he loves Natalie. Just how Steven is with Michelle at the dinner table.

I hope Carmy will one day get there with being open and loving towards Sydney in front of people and it wont be too late, like Richie (as far as we know). It's not really meta. Just thoughts.

[sparkling-pink-lemonade]

I've been curious to look into Springtrap and Deliah, as I've seen some of the art of it and really liked the style, and hadn't previously heard of it. All I knew was that the relation between the two title characters was suspiciously close, and I was down to see more.

So when I see a video called "The DISGUSTING Truth About Springtrap and Deliah", I just think "oh good, an anti, now I know I'm gonna get all the juicy, hardly censored, invasive details". And I was so fucking right. Not only do I get a summary of the comic so detailed, that I honestly don't even need to read it for myself, but I get to see the drama around it in one sitting.

I just wanna rant about the stupidity of the video~

The creator of the video just keeps going and going about how abusive and creepy springtrap is, and how that would be fine if it was portrayed as a bad thing, rather than trying to "guilt trip" the audience into feeling bad for springtrap. Like honey, honey noo. That's the fucking point. This may be surprising, but even the most horrific people are still fucking people. They aren't one dimensional, mustache twirling villains. Plus, don't forget that unreliable narrator is a thing that is commonly used in storytelling. Not to mention, you want the comic to show how the relationship is bad, and springtrap needs to get far far away from deliah? Why the fuck then do you think the light/good ending features springtrap leaving her life for good, and trying to figure his shit out without her?

Also, when getting into the "dark truth about the author", it's fucking hilarious to see this warning not once, but twice. The second time, censoring the word "proship" with a zero. I get that "demonetization" is a thing, but if you had even half an ounce of respect or maturity for the topic you're approaching, monetization shouldn't matter, and you'd use the full and correct spelling of the subjects you are warning about, rather than using L33T SP34K to censor yourself.

Continuing, between these warnings the youtuber goes "the creator really liked to draw them and roleplay them in romantic and sexual relationships that were extremely violent and often non-consensual in nature. Yeah, absolutely disgusting".

That's like, just your opinion man.

"And cause I know there's gonna be at least one person that's gonna say something like 'oh but it's fictional, they're just characters, it doesn't hurt anyone,' first of all shut up. It's still weird and I don't like you."

Why? Afraid of a decent argument? You just gave two opinions and one opinion was directed at your opponent, rather than backing your claim of why this is disgusting. And anyone who uses weird as an insult needs to grow up.

"Second of all, [proceeds to describe how the author was manipulative towards friends, and used their fame to pressure others into doing erp, while showing a screenshot of someone claiming the creator would threaten to self harm for attention] And if you think THAT'S okay by any means, shut up, I double don't like you."

Holy shit man, first, correlation =/= causation. Just cause the creator was extremely mentally ill, and wrongfully hurt people due to their insecurities (everyone is sooo supportive of being there for the mentally ill, until they actually start showing symptoms that aren't pretty), doesn't mean that the depiction of fictional characters in taboo fantasies causes an inherent harm or encouragement of toxic behavior.

Seriously, if you think the author didn't know these negative traits were so wrong, and desperately wanted, yet feared, being held accountable for their actions, feeling trapped by their own issues, why the hell do you think they projected onto springtrap so hard, only for the good ending to have them lose their first and only friend in order to open up the door to accountability and self improvement? The creator was fucking 16 at the time! A time where more often than not, many teens suffering from mental illness find their issues taking a sudden nosedive in severity, drowning in the deep end, desperately searching for any coping mechanism. Being able to show that level of self awareness and desire to improve while navigating their darker thoughts with art is amazing. Even if they were far from perfect and were a terrible friend at the time, it's still something for a 16 year old.

So get over your fucking high horse and stop justifying your disgust towards dark fiction with your thinly veiled ableism.

Also youtuber really said they'd be heavily censoring the more nsfw screenshots, but they are hardly censored, only blurring half the words that could refer to erogenous body parts, while keeping the others in. Plus the blurring is a weak gaussian blur, so you can still easily read the words that are blurred. It's a pathetic attempt to play the better, pure role-model, while putting in 0 effort to what you claim.

funny at the end that they ask proshippers not to interact, watch their videos, and respect their boundaries

like damn, you sure couldn't respect the fact that sharing 7 year old private sexual dms of someone who was 16 definitely violates several boundaries

anyway that is all, time to remove this from my watch history so youtube doesn't recommend me more of their shit

[im-out-of-it]

season 1, episode 11 “blood calls to blood”

aka guess who are “siblings” 💀

1. it’s almost funny that Valentine tricks jace this way. like jace thinks it’s his father and he’s so happy but all Valentine is doing is taunting jace and tricking them just so he can have the cup. just like Alec predicted lmao

2. you don’t have to heal jace. you can let him die. we would all be better off

3. I know I post a lot of anti jace stuff but if the writing actually had him being held accountable and he was a decent person, I could get on board. but I can’t. he’s insufferable, toxic, and self involved

4. well, we are back with Alec and Izzy. one shadowhunter trial about to come up 👏🏼

5. “I can’t find jace because I weakened our bond”- yes Alec did weaken it but let’s not just put it all on Alec. parabatai are supposed to have each others back and I haven’t seen jace do that for Alec at all. anytime Alec needs him, jace isn’t there. we don’t know their relationship before episode 1 so maybe he was there but knowing jace, I fucking doubt it lmao

6. “what am I supposed to do, sit here and play solitaire while they find something else to blame me for?”- Izzy. I’m just surprised she knows what that game is 😭 but honestly it’s kind of messed up that clary and Jace got to run off with the mortal cup while Izzy is here almost about to lose her being a shadowhunter. it’s not fair at all. and I think the treatment of jace and clary vs Alec and Izzy is something that doesn’t get discussed much. they hardly are held accountable for anything. they’ve ran off and who is to blame? ALEC. Izzy may have had a hand in helping meliorn but she didn’t do it alone so why is Izzy the one paying the consequences?

7. literally jace could go out and kill a bunch of downworlders and say they attacked me first! and he still would be fine. oh because jace is supposedly the best of us all except he always needs rescuing. Alec has paid the price for so many of jace’s actions.

8. “Izzy, I’m your big brother, please let me help you”-Alec 😭

9. I love that Simon has people helping him out. Luke in season one, Magnus in season two. Magnus had to deal with being a warlock all on his own. Luke had Jocelyn but no one should have to go through their changes on their own ☹️

10. LET JACE DIE! LET JACE DIE! LET JACE DIE!

11. I know Raphael is asexual but I would have been 100% okay with a Raphael and Simon pairing. THEY HAVE CHEMISTRY

12. but I love the importance of the showing making representation matter. we have Magnus who is bisexual, alec is gay, Raphael is asexual, and I can’t think of her name but that officer in season three who is a lesbian as well as aline and Helen. so nice to see 🥹

13. “Funny how those rules for downworlders stop being such a big deal when you need our help.”-ok Raphael tell her off 🔥 literally, what I have been talking about!!!! shadowhunters can break the accords = it’s okay! downworlders breaking accords = they’re evil and must be executed and punished!

14. having Camille only being on the show as temporary was a mistake in my opinion. I’m not saying she needed to be there the whole time but I think she’s a very underrated character who could’ve been more. she didn’t have one entire scene in all of season one that was terrible

15. ah blackmailing, how original

16. how I feel everytime jace gets away with something lmao (I always try to do shadowhunter gifs but I couldn’t resist)

17. Raphael: blackmailing me? how unkind, now stick around new advisor 🥲 raphael doesn’t play any games

18. ah, inquisitor herondale. what a cold bitch she is

19. well jace lives so yay I guess?

20. “this is real clary”-jace. ugh not them putting their whole mouths all over each and making cringe facial expressions 🤢

21. not sorry, I find them so cringe

22. ah, Valentine being Michael wayland being highly suspicious (shit I hope I didn’t ruin this for anyone, SORRY)

23. I love how “Valentine” sees jace following whatever clary says and is thinking hmmmm interesting

24. Izzy is all like if Jocelyn can be on the run then I can, but she had runes and weapons and Luke for starters so it’s not like Jocelyn was alone

okay so this isn’t going to be in order and this post will be more than likely go towards the trial 😌

45. I love the way alec says done and he just stares at Magnus like this man is going to take me for all I’m worth and I’m going to be happy about it 😭

46. the struggle is real for alec because not only is he denying a man who he is most likely having feelings for but he has have the audacity to go back to that same man 😬 and literally ask him for help while also trying to fight his feelings

47. like it’s just got to be hard for alec to be around magnus. I know he’s gay, we know he’s gay, literally the whole world knows he’s gay but alec doesn’t feel comfortable being gay in the shadow world. this is more of an assumption on my part when it comes to Alec. because he’s never dated and we see him “secretly” eyeing other men. which he is rightly validated in because the shadowhunters (more clave) are such oppressive ass judgmental prejudicial dicks who would rather control a being to their mold than have someone be comfortable in who they wish to be. they have this my way or no way thinking of how a shadowhunter should act and be

48. and the show doesn’t really touch up often on what it means to be gay in the shadow world or just different (I mean the books barely did and I would rather cc stay away from all matters because she burns everything she touches so no thanks)

49. also can we talk about how fucking gorgeous Magnus is???????

50. HE KNOWS HE IS FINE AS HELL

51. like how is Alec not drooling over him?????? man he’s got to be using every strength to hold it in and fight it 😭

52. also kind of funny how we’re introduced as jace being the one without emotions and clary as the emotional feeling one and the fact that clary is the one ending valentines reign, and Jace can never handle it

53. I sympathize with Jace losing his parents and having a messed up childhood but I don’t sympathize with someone who has this and uses excuses to be a shitty person. I’m sorry but I never once saw a change in either jace or clary in the show or the books.

54. “You don’t trust Alec so clary means more to you.”- “Michael wayland” ayyyyyy isn’t this what I have been saying this whole time????? dude is reading my mind I swear

55. and now he’s trying to act as though he trusts Alec. “Valentine” is right about something. he has put clary first since she arrived and Alec last. fucking Izzy is about to get deruned and jace and clary are out here basically having the time of their life. I know it’s an exaggeration but what did they think would happen after they saved meliorn????

56. MAGNUS THE LAWYER IS HERE

57. HES IN A SUIT AND TIE ALL READY TO FIGHT FOR THE LOVE OF HIS LIFES SIS AND HE IS ABSOLUTELY THE HOTTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM!!!!!!!!! this is who I need to represent me at any time!!!

58. Magnus: excuse me, your honor but this bitch is irritating the fuck out of me (magnus having to be near Lydia lmao)

okay, so part 3 coming soon 🥰✨

[cupcraft]

I just think it needs to be said that adults have to regulate themselves in online spaces in a way that is responsible for minors in fandom spaces. This will be long im sorry.

And im not specifically talking about adults with lists of DNI minors and block anyone at or under a certain age as well as make it clear their blog may not be safe for minors (ie spaces with a lot of nsfw content). Though curating an experience is a big part of being responsible of course. This post though is mostly delving into adults' behavior and how you need to be aware of your behavior.

For example, if you're an adult who purposefully curates a blog dedicated to fandom discourse, harming other people in the fandom, vagueing, and just having general toxicity about people ESPECIALLY when the targets of said harassment and toxicity are often the youngest in the fandom this is something you really need to reevaluate yourself about for a million reasons but including how this harms and serves as a poor example to younger people what a fandom space is meant to be. Like when I see minors involved in these types of toxicity, not to say they shouldn't be informed or held accountable or the ppl harmed should forgive them, but as an adult I mostly feel sad. I feel sad because I hope they're going to be okay when they're my age and look back on themselves. I hope they're safe esp when the adults around them act like this kind of behavior is normal and okay even though they've long graduated high school (even though ot wasn't okay then either for the record). Like does it not bother you that you're an adult who feels superior sending hate campaigns and ask box harassment and cyberbullying to minors on the internet because you're insecurities are that large and you've no ability to regulate them healthily? Does it not bother you that you teach young ppl in the fandom to do similarly by your actions, and affect their experience? Does the harm not bother you?

Because it should bother you. When you grow up especially in online fandom spaces you do need to be more aware of not only your words in general, but how many people may look up to you and use you as example and that you have a responsibility to be healthy online for the sake of yourself, others, and esp the youngest of the fandom.

Because it hurts to think ppl can grow up in fandom to think "oh sending kys and gore and dead animals over [insert discourse] plus potentially bigotry is normal because everyone around me does it and I want to fit in and I also fear speaking up against the adults who do this because you know the harassment".

And you might say "well cup im just gonna block all minors the end I get to harass people forever hahaha haha!" And well okay, but for another post (plus ones I've made before) there's still a million reasons this is fucked up you see but I'm just focusing on one aspect rn in this post.

And then there's the adults in fandom who all of a sudden hit my age and all they do is belittle kids and the way they act and there is all of a sudden a Certain Maturity that needs to be upheld for Everyone but Especially Adults.

So on the first point this includes adults who are like "I hate kids!!!! They are so [insert anything negative]" and it includes any comment to meta/writing/art/etc that is like not allowing a younger person in fandom to grow. Like the way I talked as 11 years on the internet was incomprehensible and frankly would've been subject to "omg kids are so cringe ew!" For sure these days, ig I was lucky my online friends were also 11 at the time. Looking at my old fandom Meta posts when I was 15, like I could imagine the way I see adults talking about takes like "oh shit I was worse!" Which is just a bag full of insecurity for me, but I also can't imagine being young in fandom and directly experiencing such critiques all the time. Like does it not bother you, once again? That you don't want to see kids in fandom grow into their creativity and co-exist safely in fandom as they do in public and experience overall and public joy? Why do you hate I mean hateee kids as an adult and why does their joy spark hate and misery in you (you might need therapy or to work that out srsly). And do the effects of your actions not bother you? What do you think you're doing other than silencing the creativity and joy in people and invoking ways to people please or for minors to Act Mature (in reality acting the way these adults want to avoid harassment ofc!) Instead of of course just experiencing joy and fun and community as they would normally.

And that brings me to my last pt of the effects of you hit [adult age] and must Act Mature and not Care About Cringe Fandoms or Watch Cartoons and do anything that would indicate you god forbid Don't Have a Real Job. This is the reality for growing up in fandom its finite once you're 19 no more Cringe of course /s! Because I've been subject to this take before as a criticism, and I've seen essays about how adults who watch Bluey are destroying the world forever, and I can take it because I go to therapy and I'm secure in my own maturity where it matters and joy where it matters. But imagine how younger people in the fandom feel. Like you're basically telling kids "btw once you're at Adult Age you must stop having fun forever and you must have a Real Job (or Education) and stop enjoying Immature things like fandom (even though I am in fandom btw im not a hypocrite saying this) or you're a freak immature adult who will never grow up". Like wow.

Like the conservative and near unnuanced take of to be Mature you need a real job (whatever that means) and to only watch adult shows in a normal manner (again whatever that means) aside, like you're really telling kids to grow up and be insecure. I'm serious! Like of course as you grow up it's important to mature no duh, but with real maturity means realizing there are times to be serious and there are times to enjoy things. Maturity doesn't mean I can never watch bluey god forbid else I have a not real job or become media illiterate as a consequence (esp when actually marketing wise a lot of kids shows are meant to also be entertaining for adults watching with their kids... and lo and behold your media literacy doesn't go away magically the moment the show starts). Like you really want younger ppl in fandom to be miserable and grow up miserable and create a cycle of miserable lest they become Cringe Adults that watch a harmless cartoon and enjoy it.

I'm never good at ending rants like this but conclusion. Get a grip on yourself and insecurities and be really careful how you foster fandom community for yourself but also to those that grow up in these spaces too.

As always add on/send asks/correct me/add nuance/etc. ❤️

[herejusttosufferalong]

In the chance that Luke and Nic do have feelings for each other and they’re maybe afraid of worst case scenarios (having to work together even if it all goes to shit) and they’re being practical - don’t you kinda feel bad for A? And I get that she may know what she was signing up for but that probably doesn’t make all of it any easier on her. I mean right now it’s probably so exciting for her. She is dating this super hot actor - she’s getting followers, she’s getting free trips. But imagine when this shit ends - which we know it will. It would like really fuck me up mentally knowing this man dated me to appease a certain fantasy because he couldn’t be with the woman he actually wanted. Imagine the insecurity. I am 29 and I dated a guy 10 years older than me when I was 24 and I can’t even tell you how poorly it ended. I just hope Antonia knows what she has gotten herself into. On top of being in a relationship with a guy that may or may not be in it for the right reasons, she is also getting a lot of hate from the fandom and that must also really fuck with her. It has to be bothersome being in a relationship and literally the whole entire internet thinks your man is in love with another woman. I don’t know how she does it.

And I think the person who needs to be held accountable in all of this is really Luke. I think he is very talented and he could have a great career ahead of him but I think the way he is handling his personal life so poorly just reflects so badly on him. Especially when he’s subjected this young girl to so much scrutiny if it truly isn’t going anywhere. I think he is trying really hard and he is really letting his ego get in the way of making good decisions. If he wanted to be with A he could have totally done that and kept it under wraps. It’s a total fuck you to everyone.

I feel bad for A right now for a myriad of reasons.

Number one being the BS that the fandom lays at her feet.

It will never be okay.

And I really don't care for the idea that she posts to get a rise out of the fandom so she brings it on herself.

One persons actions will never absolve yours.

[baconcolacan]

How would Stay Tord react or take care of Tom, if he secretly overworked himself and fell asleep somewhere?, (like on the desk or just in a chair lol)

Not an art request

You guys make it so hard to resist.

Words: 5513 "Prompt" not to the letter.

“You should clock out soon, boss.”

“Yeah yeah, Paul. Soon, okay?” Tord yawned, long and slow, and felt his eye twitch. A burning, itchy, irritating feeling started to make itself known as he did so. He blinked a few times and winced at how dry his eye felt, he switched his pen into his right hand to continue writing, while his left hand reached up and rubbed at his eye. Another yawn escaped him at the action, he felt his left leg start bouncing as his body began to stretch out, his joints popped as he flexed, making him let out a pleased groan as the stiffness within him began to abate.

His eye still felt like it was stinging though.

“Paul, could you get my eyedrops at the table over there??” Tord gathered the files on the table into his hands, he tapped them against the surface to get them all aligned before he turned to his desk drawer to deposit them. Rows of different work files greeted the weary military commander, some tagged with small red stickers to indicate that they still needed his attention, all in varying shades depending on their urgency.

He felt a small twinge in his heart when he remembered the day Tom had come into his office with a pad full of the stickers.

“You’re overwhelming yourself, idiot. Step aside, I’m fixing your shit.”

He put up a half-hearted protest that day, not really meaning it, just wanting an excuse to mope and lean against his beloved to whine to his heart’s content. Usually, if he was being bitchy enough about it, Tom would acquiesce and coddle him a little, as much as he was allowed to in public at least, and Tord would never say no to his husband spoiling him with a few stolen kisses.

He felt another pang in his heart at that, knowing how Tom would have made it home by now if Paul was telling him to clock out. This would be…what, his fourth time working late? No doubt his husband was already asleep. Still, the thought of Tom having to eat dinner alone again made his stomach twist guiltily, sour in the way it felt.

Still….he’d been pushing work back so much recently, and it was starting to pile up and cause minor problems to arise in his army, it may not look like much now, but too many of them will become a much bigger problem all together.

…was he really prioritizing work over his own husband?

Tord bit down on his lower lip at the thought, a tangy, metallic taste seeped onto his tongue.

He shook his head.

He set the files he had to the very back where most finished paperwork was, which wasn’t much compared to those incomplete. He sighed deeply to himself and clicked his tongue when he felt his eye sting yet again, his hand ghosted over the files with light pink stickers before settling for those with dark red ones. He frowned as he rubbed at his sore eye again.

“Paul?? Eyedrops please…” He held his right hand out to the direction he knew his General was seated at. Paul and he had decided to do some of the accounting work today, which was the result of an unfortunate case of the flu spreading to almost everyone in their accounting department. He had been beside himself when he caught wind of a significant number of their employees requesting sick leave, it had been such a headache to deal with at the start.

Of course, he had some words with patient zero, the whole point of being sick was to not report to work at all! He wasn’t running a sweat shop! He preferred quality work over quantity, and paperwork that had blotchy writing and traces of snot and drool was not quality.

Needless to say, patient zero- and all their unfortunate victims- were on paid sick leave until further notice. ‘Do not come to work’ was a highly stressed point, especially to patient zero.

Paul and he trudged through all the work they left behind, with Paul taking refuge at his tea table while he camped out at his work desk. Paul had been somewhat annoying about it though, always complaining about how his back hurt, or how his hands were cramping, or how stupid it was they didn’t think to invent tech that made paperwork easier, or how its unethical of him to withhold lunch until the paperwork was done bla bla bla…….

Tord just learned to tune him out.

……..Wait…..Why can’t Tord hear him complaining?

“Paul???” Tord finally looked up from his desk drawer, three new files with bright red stickers clutched in his hand, he blinked in surprise at the darkness of his own office, half the room’s lights had been switched off. His brows furrowed together as he looked over to where his tea table was stationed at to his right. Now shadowed in darkness.

There he saw Paul’s own mountain of files stacked precariously on top of each other, papers jutted out haphazardly while a multitude of paperclips kept them all from falling apart. He spotted the plastic cup of used pens that Paul had begun to collect, after the first three had run out of ink mid-way through his work pile, which had looked to be overflowing with much too many pens at this point.

Paul’s thermos- which had been delivered by Patryck- was still sitting idle on top of the tea table next to his paper pile, alongside his calculator and reference papers of past accounting records. His service dress cap was still hanging on the edge of his chair, dangling precariously over the wastebin he had moved to his side, after a number of errors had him throwing out a few of his papers in frustration, as it had meant he would have to redo them- and their calculations- again.

But, amongst all of these items, there was no sign of Paul himself.

Tord frowned, feeling a smatter of disbelief that one of his Generals would just suddenly leave his station without excusing himself. He scoffed with a slight bout of irritation as he fell back on his chair, uncaringly dropping the files he held onto his work desk as he combed his fingers through his own hair. The nerve of that man!

Had he been too lenient with Paul?? With Patryck? Sure they were friends, but during work hours he was their boss, not to mention their superior officer, and this right here was a blatant disrespect for the chain of command.

Maybe he needs to have a talk with his staff soon, about duty and respect, maybe.

Paul had just told him to clock out, when the hell did he leave??

….What time was it?

Tord let his head loll to the side, he clicked his tongue in irritation when he realized that the grandfather clock in his office was in the shaded part of it. He squinted his eyes at the confounded thing before he gave up entirely. Why the hell does he still even have analog stuff??

….ah, yeah, aesthetics……

With a tired sigh, Tord turned to his right arm and removed the glove covering it, a glint of metallic red greeted him along with a soft blue glow of lights. He pressed down on the middle of his palm until he heard a click.

“Time?” He blew out as he rubbed at his temple with his free hand.

“It is 2:09 a.m. Red Leader.”

Two o’- What?!

Tord sat up at that, he spun his chair partway around to look at his grand arch window behind him. Outside of RA HQ, he could see a few of the night watch already stationed at their towers, the cold blue of the floodlights on top of the towers shining brightly up ahead at the farthermost territory of their HQ. He spotted the shadows of the night shift Red Sentries zipping across the surrounding forests, sometimes hovering over to the watchtowers to deposit their camera footage to the database before zooming off again.

A wanning gibbous moon shone high in the sky.

Christ, he didn’t realize how long he had been working for.

Paul often clocked out around 11 p.m. at the latest, so that means….Paul had told him to clock out 3 hours ago?!

But- But he just heard him say that!

Oh hell….maybe he really does need to leave this work well alone for now, his sense of time is starting to get all screwy….

….Fuck….he was a hypocrite, he’s patient zero now. Poor Paul was patient one, he supposed. Though, at least Paul had sense to still keep a somewhat decent time. He always did say that Tord’s work-life balance was-

…..Shit.

Thomas.

His husband. His poor husband who he hasn’t even been paying any attention to this week. His poor husband who he left all alone this week because he never came home on time anymore. His poor beloved who would have been eating all his meals alone because Tord decided that neglecting his health- and love life- was worth it to finish a budget record.

Oh my god…..he’s becoming a workaholic asshole. An absent husband!!

Dread began to build up in Tord’s chest as his thoughts began to spiral.

What if Thomas thought he didn’t love him anymore?? He wasn’t able to tell him he loved him this week!

Or worse! What if Thomas was falling into a state of anagapesis?! Falling out of love with him because he’s been a neglectful, unloving, asshole of a husband!!

“I hope you and your literal work wife are happy together.”

Tord felt himself blanch as the blood began to drain from his face. An unwanted image of his husband, of his dear sweet Thomas, dabbing a handkerchief to his eyes as tears fell down his cheeks. Imaginary Thomas continued to sob as he slammed a piece of paper onto his desk, still weeping heavily into the white lacy handkerchief he kept to his face.

Tord looked down at the paper on his desk in sheer horror.

Divorce papers.

“I’m leaving you for a real man, Tord Larsin!”

Tord looked back up at imaginary Thomas in front of his desk, only to stand up in shock as a faceless man holding a crudely made instrument had pulled his husband to his side. Imaginary Thomas wept into his shoulder before glaring back at him, causing Tord to physically flinch.

“Hello!” The faceless man greeted cheerily with a wave. “Yes I am a real man!”

“He plays the bass, actually LIKES ska, has a normal job at a coffee shop, and thinks anime is super weird!” Imaginary Thomas huffed and hugged himself closer to the homewrecker. “And he actually pays attention to me and LOVES me! Unlike YOU!” Imaginary Tom sniffled before the faceless man began to turn them both away.

“Okay honey say bye bye now! Let us go to our real people home and have many children!”

Imaginary Tom looked back at him, glaring balefully.

“Goodbye, Larsin.”

Tord let out a horrified shriek, thankfully unheard due to his soundproofed office.

NO FUCKING WAY WAS THAT EVER GOING TO HAPPEN!!!

He bolted over his work desk, uncaring of the paperwork that was sent flying in every which way, as he burst out of his own office with all the aggressive force of a charging bull and the desperation of a damned man running from the devil himself.

‘DON’T LEAVE ME FOR A BARISTA, THOMAS!!!!’

Should he be concerned that he had just had a vivid and active hallucination?

Well yes.

But that wasn’t his main concern at the moment, plus, he was much too sleep deprived to be thinking straight anyway. Ah, such is life, and love, supposedly.

Tord ran down the hall, his vision tunneling and his train of thought chugging along on just one, heavily walled, and extremely magnetized, track. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest as thoughts of his beloved husband visiting a coffee shop was starting to form into an irrational fear, the back of his thoughts were already thinking up of ways to get his Thomas quality coffee that was so goddamned good he would never even want to set foot in some whore coffee shop!

Thomas was his, his, HIS!

NO FUCKING BASS PLAYING BARISTA WAS GOING TO TAKE HIM FROM HIM.

LIKE HELL!!

….

….Though…would Tom be happier with a bass playing barista??

All at once, Tord found himself skidding to an abrupt halt, his boots squeaked loudly at his sudden cease of motion, the momentum nearly making him fall flat to his face if he hadn’t caught himself on time.

Tord clasped his hands together, his eye staring at nothing as he began to think deeper about- a frankly goofy- the situation. He wasn’t sure if it was the sleep deprivation, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he even deserved his beloved at this point, seeing as he spent a week practically acting as though Thomas didn’t even exist.

If he could stand to ignore his husband for a week in favor of accounting, what if he could do it for a month?? A year?? Hell YEARS?!

That didn’t sound like love.

What if Tom would be happy with barista bass player real man??

Tord’s overworked, over exhausted, and sleep deprived mind ran around him in circles.

He felt himself began to tear up.

Oh GOD, after he had promised his Thomas on the day they were married, after he had promised him he was a changed man, that he was going to be better, that he well and truly loved him, that he was so sorry for all the years and all the times he had made him cry, how he was so so sorry for ruining their lives when he left him behind, how he- Huh, wait why is Thomas’ office lights still on??

Tord blinked rapidly, coming back to himself as quick as his spiraling mind could allow. He straightened himself up and tilted his head at the sight before him.

Up ahead, at the end of the hall opposite of his own office, the doors to his beloved’s office were opened just a crack, letting the warm light from within spill out into the semi-shadowed hallway he was standing in. Thomas was never one to leave his lights on when he had gone home, even more so keep his doors open, his husband had always liked his privacy, so his office doors were always closed to everyone but Tord, as he also had a key to it anyway.

Frowning, Tord slowly approached the office doors, his hand carefully inched down to the pistol holster at his side, just in case.

Once he reached the dark wood double doors, Tord carefully pushed one of them open just a little more. He evened out his breathing as he took a peek into the office, because if some intruder thought they could just waltz into his beloved’s space, well, they would wish that they hadn’t.

Part of him hoped it was a bass playing barista, somehow.

What he saw however, instantly melted any of his aggression away.

There, reclined on his chair and sleeping soundly, was his beloved husband, Tom.

Tord felt himself smile softly as he fully opened the door, careful not to make any sound as he stepped into the room.

Thomas’ office was much smaller than his own, which was really just at the behest of his beloved. Tom claimed that he didn’t even know what he’d do with so much space, seeing as most of his duties and operations were focused on field work more than anything, and when he had no active operations, he’d spend more time in Tord’s office to help him handle logistics at HQ. So really, even having his own office didn’t seem all too practical anyway.

Which Tord swiftly dismissed, saying that he had to have a place where he could posture his authority, seeing as he was a Lieutenant General of the RA (and unofficially its Army Director). Plus….well, they could use the extra space for other things….

Tom had slapped him on the arm for suggesting that, calling him a ‘depraved weaboo’ for even thinking about it.

Well, what does that say about him? When he let Tord bring a couch that could convert into a bed into his office without a single word?

Yeah, Tom needed his own office. For sure. Not for any ulterior reason of course. Like he said, it was to posture authority. Yep.

Tord passed by the couch and gave it a fond pat as he did so.

He circled Tom’s desk and immediately made his way to his beloved’s side, his gaze softened as he leaned down to get closer to his husband. Tord chuckled as he brushed at the stray lock of hair that refused to be gelled out of Tom’s face like the rest of them, his husband was annoyed by it but Tord thought it was cute.

He sighed as he cupped the side of Tom’s face, but the smile on his own dropped when he noticed the blinking lights on Tom’s visor.

Was….was Tom in subcon-command?!

HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?!

“Kjaerlighet!” Tord took his husband’s face in his hands, lightly slapping at his left cheek as his right hand took in his vitals. “Kjaerlighet!! Tom!! Thomas!!” His right arm beeped and gave him a readout of Tom’s vitals through a holo-screen. Tord’s eye snapped to the data, quickly taking in the status of his idiot husband, thankfully nothing seemed to be amiss aside from the usual high brain activity that came from being in sub-com.

Tord blew out a frustrated breath and turned back to his still dozing husband, he pressed a finger from his robotic hand to the side of Tom’s visor. The action caused Tom’s head to roll a little to the side, causing the other to mumble something Tord didn’t hear, but it did make him smile in exasperation. “R.L. OV3 3447-Alpha.” A series of robotic chirps responded to his code, accepting his override access. Tord placed his free hand to the other side of Tom’s head as he prepared to remove the visor from his husband.

“39-Lima-550-“

“TT3 SL-Delta.”

“YEAOW!” Tord reeled back, shaking both his hands, as a controlled shocked coursed up his arms. The fingers on his robotic arm spasmed and whined, while his flesh hand smoked due to his glove still being on when he had been electrocuted. He huffed and bit at the singed finger of his white glove, he pulled it off his hand and let it fall to the ground before turning an incredulous, wide-eyed look, at Tom. Who, at this point, had reset his chair so he could sit upright, his arms had crossed as he looked at Tord.

“Kjaerlighet!” Tord meant for it to be scolding, but instead it came out as a whine when Tom tilted his head at him. God help him. He was so weak to his husband. “What was that for?! I know you were subcomming! You know how dangerous that feature is! Didn’t I tell you not to do it without me, Bing, or Larry present?!”

“I don’t need babysitting, Tord. I know what I was doing.” Tom sighed as he propped an arm against the desk beside him, he leaned his head against his palm. “Besides, I wasn’t sub-com for that long, it’s only been a quarter of an hour actually.”

“Still!” Tord strode forward once his robotic hand stopped twitching, he knelt in front of his husband as Tom let him take his free hand into his own. “You know how I feel about you doing these things, kjaere. The sub-com system is still experimental, the mental stress it causes you is too much.” He brought his husband’s hand to his lips, just pressing against it, mumbling into the skin. “I’m scared that something could happen to you…while I’m not there…”

“Tord….” Tom squirmed on his seat as he looked down at his husband. He had wanted to deflect, sometimes Tord was just too overbearing, too overprotective of him, but it was difficult when Tord was being vulnerable with him. Sure, his husband was a paranoid bastard, but it was born from years of his time at war with the rest of the world, born from his fear of…well….losing him.

Its so unfair, it used to be so easy to jab back at his husband.

…Maybe he really was getting old, hell….

Tom sighed and took his hand back from Tord, the split second look of heartbreak on the other’s face quickly disappearing once he settled his hand to the side of Tord’s face. “Elskede, look, I really did know what I was doing, but I didn’t mean to scare you like this. I was only trying to oversee the night watch while you were still at work, and I just…” As if on cue, Tom yawned into his other hand, “I just..got tired…is all. I thought I could let my body rest while still overseeing night watch, which, ugh, wasn’t even worth it. I still feel like shit….”

“Well, why are you even here, kjaere??”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tom gestured at him from top to bottom with his free hand. “You, Tord. You’ve been overworking lately, Paul has been complaining about your hours instead of his own. Patryck is becoming concerned with your mental state, he says you’ve been jumpier than usual.”

Tord felt his heart sting when Tom let out another yawn.

Patient two. His husband was patient two.

As if he didn’t feel bad enough about neglecting his love….now he dragged him into this.

“God, fifteen minutes sub-com but not even that made me feel rested.”

Swallowing his guilt, Tord chuckled, albeit shakily. “Your brain activity is insanely high when you sub-com, Thomas.” Tord rested his hand on top of Tom’s own on his cheek as he looked up at him. “Of course you would still be tired, Bing didn’t invent it for napping while working purposes you know?” He chuckled again as Tom huffed. “It’s an emergency feature, in case someone manages to knock you out in the field, so you can take control of the remote weaponry to defend yourself.”

“Yeah yeah, couldn’t hurt to try though, right?”

“Thomas you could have fried your brain, it would have hurt to try.”

“You’d never let me get hurt like that though.”

Tom meant it to be teasing, but Tord only smiled up at him, adoration plain on his face as he leaned up into his husband’s space. Tom was caught off guard when Tord suddenly went in for a kiss, pushing him back against his chair in the process as his husband moved to deepen it. It wasn’t even much of a dirty kiss, it simply felt as though Tord was trying to press as close as he could, still, by the end of it, Tom felt a little lightheaded as Tord pulled back, he was a little ashamed to admit that he chased the other’s lips when he did.

Tord rested their foreheads together and caressed the side of his face, still smiling.

“Never. I would never let anything hurt you, my love.”

Tom’s heart skipped a beat at the tone of his voice. He felt his face heat up. Stupid Norwegian and his stupid declarations of love…

“Yeah, well…cool, I guess…” Tom had turned his head to the side as his embarrassment reached a new high. Even after all these years, he still wasn’t sure how to respond to Tord’s earnestness, he felt really shitty for it, but Tord had always reassured him that he knew that he loved him, because of course his husband would. Tord just seems to know the things Tom could never say outright.

He glanced back at his husband, though he didn’t move his head back.

And found Tord looking absolutely shattered.

…huh???

(Well, maybe SOMETIMES he doesn’t know the things Tom could never say outright.)

“Tord-?”

“I am so sorry, kjaerlighet.” Tom ‘blinked’ in surprise, the visuals in his visor glitching out in response to his emotional state. He furrowed his brows and squeaked when Tord suddenly took both his hands and clasped them together within his own. The Norwegian leaned further into his face, disappointingly not for another kiss, causing his chair to lean backwards into a dangerous position.

“Aye-! Hey! Tord you’ll make us fall-!”

“Please please PLEASE forgive me my love!!” Tord wailed as he continued to lean into Tom’s space. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this week!! I didn’t mean to be such an asshole!! PLEASE forgive me kjaerlighet!”

“Hey! Shh! Tord! We’re in public! Don’t be so loud!! Don’t call me that!”

Tom switched his visor into his command screens and immediately selected the base cameras. He flicked through the cams until he found the main HQ building cameras, more specifically the ones that were stationed outside his office as well as the general area radius of Tord’s own office. Thankfully, none of the staff had decided to hang back like the two of them had, even maintenance had made themselves scarce. And what night guards they had wouldn’t make their rounds here until after 3 a.m. so for now they were in the clear.

He sighed in relief and relegated the cams footage to the lower right corner side of his visor screen.

Only to come face to face with a teary eyed looking Tord who took up his entire vision.

“Bwah! Tord-!”

“I AM SO SORRY, THOMAS!!” Tom instantly found himself gathered up into his husband’s arms and out of his office chair. He wheezed and choked as Tord squeezed him close as he sobbed. “PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E DON’T LEAVE ME! MY LOVE I AM SO SORRY FOR NEGLECTING YOU!! PLEASE LET ME STILL CALL YOU MY LOVE!! PLEASE!! YOU ARE STILL MY KJAERLIGHET RIGHT?!”

“To-AUGH!- ORD!!” Tom gasped out as he pushed against his husband’s hold. “Not…the….point!!” He managed to put a little bit of space between them, his legs kicking uselessly below him the moment Tord lifted him up. He glared down at his stupid idiot of a husband who only returned a kicked puppy look at him, Tom took in a deep breath and internally braced himself against Tord’s pleading look. He is not THAT weak to his husband. He is not THAT weak to his husband. He is not THAT weak to his husband-

“We’re in public idiot!” Tom slapped him lightly on the chest. “I was okay with it when your voice was low, but you are screaming it out now!”

“The offices are soundproof!”

“YOU DENSE-! My doors are open, Tord!!”

Tom gestured stiffly at the double doors which Tord had failed to shut closed when he first came in. Tord looked over to the side, he thinned his lips.

“…Ah…..”

“Yeah, ‘Ah’. God you’re daft when you don’t get enough sleep..” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “For your information, before you start panicking, I checked the cams. No staff. No maintenance. Night guards won’t make their rounds here till three.” Tom huffed when Tord pulled his wide eyed gaze away from the open doors.

Tom hooked his fingers under Tord’s chin, gently coaxing the man to look up at him. “Hey, eyes on me.” He sighed at the look on his husband’s face, most likely he was just starting to realize the danger he could have put them into now that he seemed to be thinking straight. Tom cooed at him, gently brushing at the hair that fell over the scarred side of his face.

“Elskede, we’re alright, be calm.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m here.” He kissed his cheek. “You’re here.” He kissed the scarred side of his face. “There’s no one else but us.” Tord shut his eye in response, allowing Tom to kiss his eyelid as his husband hugged him closer, leaning his ear against his chest. Tom carded his fingers through his hair. “What can you hear?”

“….Your heart…”

“And why is that?”

“…Because we’re here….because you’re mine…”

“And you are mine.” Tom finished as he felt Tord begin to relax. His husband shifted his hold on him, carrying him bridal style but still refusing to relax his grip, burying his face into his neck as he breathed in slow. Tom laughed lightly at the action, continuing his previous ministrations on Tord’s hair. “..What’s this about neglect Tord? What brought this on??”

“…….” Tord sniffled against his skin. Tom had to stop himself from chuckling. His husband could just be so goofy at times, he really had to talk to him about his habit of scaring himself with his own thoughts, or better yet, maybe he should talk to his therapist about his husband’s self-destructive habit. “….I wasn’t….around…”

“I’m sorry love?”

“I haven’t….I haven’t been good to you…”

Now it was Tom’s turn to feel incredulous, he sent a baffled look his husband’s way, but Tord was still hiding his face against his neck so he wouldn’t be able to see it. “You haven’t-? In what way have you not been good to me?”

“I neglected you this week!” Tord admitted into his skin, with just so much genuine panic it almost sent Tom reeling. “I prioritized my work over my husband! I brushed you off!! I was being an absentee asshole and now you’re going to fall out of love with me and- and you’ll go to a coffee shop because I haven’t found any good coffee yet and you’ll meet a barista and he plays bass and makes you laugh and then you’ll divorcemebecauseyoudontlovemeandthenyou’llmarrybassbaristaandhavekidswithhimandI’MgonnadiealoneBECAUSEI’LLNEVERLOVEANYONEELSEBUTYOU-“

“Hey hey hey! Tord breathe! What??? Coffee shop?? Bass barista????? Darling what are you talking about????”

“I left you all on your OWN for an ENTIRE WEEK!” Tord looked up at his face, the sheer anguish on his face more comical than not to Tom who was starting to find the whole situation too outlandish to take seriously. “I don’t even say ‘I love you’ that much anymore!!”

Tom looked down at his husband, his mouth partway open in disbelief and shock. He floundered a bit, before he gave up and let his head fall into his hands. “Oh my god….Tord Larsin, never EVER try to burn the midnight oil for multiple days, ever again starting now.” He felt his own exhaustion start creeping into his bones, he let himself go limp as he leaned against his husband’s chest. “You and I are not as young as we used to be, at this point, if you try to even stay up past 8 p.m., I’m pretty sure you’ll start getting brain damage.”

“But- kjaere- the barista.”

“Tord.” Tom gritted out, instantly making Tord shut his mouth. “You’re delirious, you haven’t been sleeping well. You just made up a wacky arse scenario that is never going to happen.” Tom tiredly pulled at his left glove, he tucked it into his pocket and brought his hand up to Tord’s face. “See that ring? I married you you dense motherfucker, and god knows why I fell in love with you this hard,” He let his hand fall on top of his abdomen once he was sure he got his point across. “Fact of the matter is, commie, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just so disgustingly in love with you for some reason I can’t even explain.”

Tom nuzzled himself closer to his husband, who had gone unnaturally still. “So shut up already about this barista or whatever and just take me home….I’m tired, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to collapse so remember,” Tom lifted his head to stare into Tord’s eye, only smirking when he saw how red in the face his husband had become. “I love you, that isn’t changing any time soon. Okay?”

Tord only stared at him silently for a moment, before he leaned down, lifting Tom’s head up in tandem, and capturing his lips in a deep, swooping kiss, pouring every ounce of love and adoration he could muster for the man in his arms. The man he had been so lucky to have a chance to keep for himself, to hold close and listen to his heart, to keep by his side for the rest of his life. Someone who could love him for all his flaws, had seen his worst, and still decided that he saw something beautiful in him.

His kjaerlighet.

“I love you, so so much….”

“I love you too. Could we please go home now?”

Tord laughed quietly, subtly adjusting his grip once more before moving to exit the office. “Go to sleep, kjaere.” He pressed their foreheads together as they passed the threshold of the doors. “I’ll get us home safe. I promise nothing will hurt you.”

Tom smiled as he settled in Tord’s arms.

“I know.”

////

GET PERCIEVED YOU LOVESTRUCK IDIOT