#you're in your own world. safeguarded away from our hands and our love and our pain and our hate

[djevelbl]

"this was it, there was no turning back now; when I go beyond this wall I'll get to live the life that I deserve — that everyone deserves. And I'll never have to return back to this nightmare of a place" ohhhh you sweet summer child. If only you knew. If only we could tell you. If only we could protect you, teach you, have you grow to learn what's up next in the journey.

If only your next steps were an informed choice, then maybe it wouldn't hurt to see you go.

Guess what tf I'm watching nowwww

[thatmcgwords]

In the world of money, financial predators are nearly as dangerous and they're always lurking nearby, waiting to strike. The key to financial survival is learning how to spot them and protect yourself. Financial predators come in many forms, but they all have one thing in common. They're constantly looking for ways to legally separate you from your hard-earned cash. The more money you have, the more attractive you become to these predators.

So, how can you tell if you're giving away too much of your wealth to others? One way is to look at the percentage of your income that you keep versus the percentage that goes to others. For instance, someone earning $100,000 a year might pay 50% in taxes, leaving them with just $50,000. Another person with the same income might structure things differently and pay only 15% or even 0% in taxes, keeping much more for themselves.

Regardless of how you feel about your tax burden, the ability to retain more of the money you earn can be considered part of your financial IQ. There are seven types of financial predators.

- The author calls them the Bs. First up are the bureaucrats, which are simply the tax collectors. Their job is to take your money and hand it over to the government to spend inefficiently.

- Now, for the bankers, those who are meant to safeguard your money but, ironically, have become some of the biggest predators of all.

Through hidden fees, outrageous credit card interest rates, and questionable practices like subprime lending, bankers often skim far more off the top than most people realize. Even state institutions like pension funds engage in tactics that line their pockets at the expense of the average worker. For example, pension funds sometimes enter into revenue-sharing agreements with mutual fund companies.

To protect yourself from bankers, make an effort to understand all the fees associated with your investments and pension plans. Ask for detailed explanations and consult external advisors as necessary.

- Our third financial predators are the brokers. These are the salespeople who earn fat commissions from your financial transactions. While many are honest, others are just looking to make a quick buck and don't have your best interests at heart. These brokers may churn your account with excessive trades or else steer you into high-fee products that benefit them more than you.

- Next up are businesses, which are always angling to get you to part with more of your cash. Store credit cards with sky-high interest rates, manipulative sales tactics, and shoddy products are just a few of the means by which they transfer your wealth to their own coffers.

- At number five we have bows and brides, who can turn out to be financial predators disguised as devoted partners. These love predators are more interested in your bank account than your personality. Celebrities have lost huge chunks of their wealth in divorces from partners who may have married them more for money than love. Those concerned with this type of financial predator may consider prenuptial agreements to protect their assets in the event of an acrimonious divorce.

- Our six Bs are the barristers, the lawyers who use the court system to go after your assets.

Frivolous lawsuits abound in our litigious society, and legal predators are some of the wiliest of the bunch. Even if you win a suit, the legal fees alone can bleed you dry.

- Finally, at number seven we have brothers-in-law. These are the family members and others who swoop brothers-in-law. These are the family members and others who swoop in like greedy vultures to grab a piece of your estate after you die. Without proper estate planning, your wealth can end up dissipated and not passed on according to your wishes. Plan your estate carefully with wills, trusts, and other legal instruments to ensure your wealth is distributed according to your wishes.

For anyone who wants to accumulate and preserve their wealth, swimming with the financial sharks is an unfortunate fact of life. But by learning to recognize the various species of predators, and by taking proactive steps to protect yourself, you can dramatically improve your odds of coming out ahead. It all starts with financial IQ, having the awareness to spot predators, and the determination to not become their next meal.

Pay yourself first. When it comes to creating lasting wealth, the most successful individuals and organizations understand that budgeting isn't just a matter of arithmetic, but of concerted strategy. Reaching your financial goals means moving from a budget deficit, where expenses exceed income, to a budget surplus, where income exceeds expenses.

the path to abundance lies in expanding your means, growing your earning power, and generating more income. So, how do the wealthy approach budgeting differently? In essence, they pay themselves first.

Most people take their income, pay all their bills and obligations, and only then look to save or invest the meager amount remaining, if there's any left at all. But the rich flip the script. They allocate a hefty chunk of their earnings to savings and investments straightaway, essentially treating their wealth-building like an essential expense. Only after that do they budget for other costs. They recognize that while frugality has its place, it will never create abundance alone.

Each time money flows into your accounts, divert a predetermined percentage into a dedicated investment or savings vehicle. This might be a brokerage account, real estate fund, or high-yield savings account. Only after the self-allocated wealth tax has been paid should you allocate funds to your other obligations. At first, this approach may feel constraining, like trying to squeeze into a tight budget. But that pressure is actually the point. By making wealth-building a non-negotiable priority, you force yourself to become more resourceful and creative in boosting your income and managing your cash flow

Another hallmark of the wealthy is their ability to use assets to fund liabilities. In other words, they acquire resources that generate income and then use that cash flow to cover their expenses and lifestyle choices. For example, instead of saving up to buy a vacation home outright, they first might purchase a rental property that generates enough income to cover the mortgage, taxes, and upkeep, and still have enough left over to fund their own holidays. Or they might invest in a portfolio of dividend-paying stocks, using the quarterly payouts to finance their desired standard of living. The goal is to make your money work for you, even as you enjoy the fruits of your labors.

When faced with a budget shortfall or a looming debt, the default reaction is often to hunker down and cut back. But while frugality has its place, it can also become a form of financial paralysis. Instead, the most successful people view financial challenges as a chance to become more adaptable, innovative, and resourceful.

For example, if your business is struggling to make payroll, you might be tempted to slash salaries or lay off staff. But what if instead, you diverted funds into a bold new marketing campaign or invested in training your team to be more productive and efficient?

It's not that there's never a time to cut back. But ultimately, the path to financial freedom lies not in penny-pinching and austerity, but in expanding your means. By paying yourself first, leveraging assets to cover liabilities, and viewing challenges as opportunities for innovation, you have the opportunity to steadily become more wealthy and more resilient. Invest with Intelligence

What separates the savvy investors from the hapless gamblers? The answer lies in one crucial asset – information. Imagine yourself as a prospector, sifting through a constant stream of data in search of that elusive nugget of insight. Each of us is bombarded with a cacophony of facts, figures, and opinions, clamoring for our attention.

Start by classifying information based on three factors – timeliness, credibility, and relevance. Fresh, reliable data from primary sources should take precedence over stale, second-hand speculation. For example, a company's audited financial statements will provide a more solid footing than the musings of pundits on cable news. Next, look for patterns and cycles that put today's events in a historical context.

Markets often move in roughly 20-year cycles, alternating between booms fueled by irrational exuberance and busts driven by fear and pessimism.

If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Or do they use high pressure sales tactics, urging you to act immediately before some supposed once-in-a-lifetime opportunity evaporates? Real opportunities will still be there after you've done your due diligence. Of course, all the information gathering in the world is useless without the wisdom to interpret and act on it effectively. That's where true financial intelligence comes into play. By studying the fundamentals of industries and companies and continuously stress-testing your ideas, you gradually develop a kind of investing sixth sense.

You learn to trust your instincts when a deal feels right, and pay attention when your gut tells you to walk away. Make no mistake, this is hard work, and there are a few shortcuts. But if you're willing to put in the effort, the rewards can be tremendous. Because, at the end of the day, the most powerful investing tool isn't an algorithm or insider tip.

It's a well-honed mind, finely tuned to navigate an often noisy and chaotic financial world. And that, in a nutshell, is how you become a smarter, more successful investor. By relentlessly upgrading your most important asset, your own financial intelligence.

Rich Dads Increase Your Financial IQ by Robert Kiyosaki is that developing your financial intelligence is crucial for building and protecting wealth. Be wary of financial predators like bankers, businesses, and barristers that may try to separate you from your money. Use the strategies of the affluent to budget wisely, such as paying yourself first, leveraging income-generating assets to fund liabilities, and viewing financial challenges as opportunities for growth.

Finally, constantly seek out credible, relevant information, both to help aid your decisions and to hone your financial instincts over time.

In this way, you increase your financial IQ, allowing you to navigate the world of money with ever-increasing success.

[cheelduh]

How to strike your way into someone’s heart (Highschool AU)

Part 2 to this. Can be read alone!

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing I mean what do you expect they’re all teenagers. Lots of brick slapping. Childe clowns Scaramouche. OH YES this isn’t edited at all lmfao have fun.

Synopsis: It’s your big date with Childe after you lost the bet miserably. You decide to pay the occult club a visit in hopes of finding something that can...ease your concerns. Childe on the other hand has Signora give him a friendly piece of advice, believe it or not. 

Note: SRY THIS TOOK ME LIKE A MONTH

For as long as you can remember, you've never believed in ghosts, demons, or souls that lose their way in the endless void, forced to roam the earth in repentance.

Believing in the unknown takes creativity, adventure, maybe even a little sense of fear. Scratch that—a shitton of fear, because humans love to weave in their insecurities and inability to explain something into something of a phenomenon.

Bad luck lies in this category. Bad luck is simply a way to justify the catastrophe that one cannot admit they have fabricated themselves. Everyone wants a reason as to why shit hits the fan, and it can be anything but their own fault.

Bad luck is nothing but a load of bull to you. That's totally why you're standing outside the calculus classroom during lunch break, which happens to be the official meet spot for the occult club.

You raise a fist to knock, but then falter, thinking over your options once again. Is this what it has come to? Putting your faith into the weird kids that once tried to summon Schrödinger's cat for the physics final.

Fischl kicks the door wide open, a smirk playing at her lips once she spots you. "One cannot refrain from the song of your cogitation. The feline for which thou dwell on—"

A squeak leaves your throat and you flinch back, cutting her off. "You can read my mind?"

"Fischl," An icy eyed boy shows up from behind her and points a thumb back. "Mona needs your help."

Fischl squints at you for a brief moment, and then spins onto her heel to go back into the room.

The blue haired lower class man, Chongyun you guess, narrows his eyes at you. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Finally you manage to speak, palms all sweaty. "Yeah uh, I need your help. You know, with occulty things." You use your hands to articulate your thoughts, but ultimately give up.

You're not sure if it's pity towards your pathetic explanation or simply annoyance, but Chongyun widens the opening. He silently gestures for you to follow.

Stumbling on your feet and putting on your big girl pants, you hurry inside of the room, hoping you aren't seen by Beidou. She wouldn't let you hear the end of this.

The temperature instantly drops, and you have to adjust your sight to navigate. There's heavy incense in the air as well as a a few lighted candles from the dollar store, you guess.

Sitting smack dab in the middle of all the demonic markings is Mona, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Chongyun has made his way next to her, crossing his arms with a sigh, and Fischl is busy cooing at her bird.

"Well well well..." Mona's amused, eyes almost twinkling as she gets up from the poor desk that had to suffer the wrath of her ass. "If it isn't Y/N."

Mona is a glorified dick wiper in your books. One time, she partnered up with you in chemistry last year and refused to do any work because apparently her "star sign" said she was incompatible with science. You haven't forgiven her since.

"I need your help." You barely manage to choke out the words, reigning yourself in by clenching your fists instead. It'll be unethical to claw her face, especially since you're the one who's come to her.

"Oh?" She smiles wickedly, revelling in every moment of this no doubt. "Why would the high and mighty Y/N need help from the 'Whoroscope whore'?"

Fischl nearly slips out a laugh, trying with her upmost ability to refrain from rolling all over the floor.

You blink away your tears of almost-laughter, casually sliding in twenty mora across the table dividing you two. If she's a whoroscope whore like you say she is, she'll definitely put it in her bra.

Mona raises a brow, but her eyes linger on the bill for a second too much. "What makes you think I'll do it for money?"

"That's simple," You say, rolling your eyes. "When you see mora, you cling to it like a baby clings to a tit. Now just take it and solve my issues."

She fumes a litany of curses but snatches the money up anyways.

"What do you want?"

You breathe in, then out. "I need a talisman."

Mona raises a brow, hand on her hip. "I'm sorry. Did I get that right?"

How dare she. You will your eye into not twitching, the beginnings of fire thrumming through your veins, scalding hot. How dare she make me repeat myself.

"You know, the thing to fend off evil spirits," Your statement hangs heavy in the air as the cogs in their brains click into place. "I need one that can remove the most evilest thing times ten to the power of twenty five on this planet."

Everyone immediately thinks of Hu Tao.

Chongyun is the first to speak from an area of expertise, seemingly shocked at your words. "Are you sure you want a talisman that powerful? How bad is the evil spirit you've come across?"

You glance out the window, through the semi-open blinds. The apprehension curls in your stomach once you spot Childe chasing Aether with safety scissors, and you've never been more sure of than anything in your life.

Gulping, you turn back to the exorcist. "I'm 110% sure."

He doesn't ask any more questions and goes to fetch the talisman.

Mona clears her throat. "So I hear you have a date with Childe today. Quite the character you've taken to."

"Oh please," You hiss through your teeth, your blood pressure going up tenfold, "you're the one that told him our star signs were intertwined and that we're fated lovers."

She shrugs innocently, stance casual unlike your own that is ready to lunge an attack.

"Here you are," Chongyun hands you a talisman, a colourful mix of some charms, some kind of liquid in a bottle, and about a shitton of other things. "You'll need these if you're going to face the most demonic of all evils."

You think of Childe's stupidly handsome smirk, the playful life of his eyes, and how gentle and considerate he is with you. You think about how cruel he is to others, but how loving he can be to you.

"Oh, I will be."

—

Childe is getting his ass handed to him by Scaramouche on the switch. It's just that he can't seem to focus, not with the forthcoming date all over his mind.

He hasn't experienced these kind of jitters in a long time. Has to endure that foolish smile that's about to plaster all over his face.

Scaramouche may be a son of a bitch with an agenda, but he doesn't appreciate his acquaintances safeguarding their personal crap when it starts to leak onto him. Especially when it comes to video games.

"Okay," The short boy sighs, stretching over the staff room sofa to drop his controller on the cushions. "Let's hear it." He can't even properly enjoy his victories when Childe isn't giving it his all.

"Hear what?" Childe lays his head back, relaxing from all the strain of endless gaming during the lunch hour. He seems too relaxed for someone who's broken into the teacher's lounge.

"Why you're so distracted." Scaramouche points out. "Not that I care—hey! I'm serious here!"

Childe's cracking up for absolutely no reason, rudely cutting him off. "I'm sorry—sorry it's just so hard to take you seriously when you're wearing that stupid fucking hat."

"Don't question the drip." The older moves his head to glare at him, but the thin stripe of silk on his hat swooshes with him, and it's enough to have Childe clutching his stomach in pain as he barks out in laughter.

"Grow the fuck up." Scaramouche says, no doubt exasperated from the constant shit he gets.

"Ok—ok I'm sorry."

There's a knock on the door before Scaramouche gets the chance to intimidate him again.

"Fuck shit fuck who is that? Wasn't there a staff meeting?" Childe whisper yells, panic clear in the ocean of his eyes.

Scaramouche shrugs and downs a can of soda with no care in the world.

Childe would be nonchalant too. If it were a normal day, he wouldn't give two shits about getting caught.

However, he's looking forward to that date he has with you today. Detention is going foil all his lecherous plans.

"It's me." The feminine sound of a threat calls out from the other side. "Open the door." The clicks and clacks of her toes tapping the floor indicating her impatience.

The two sigh in relief, Childe getting up to open the door. It's way too early in the afternoon to deal with this crap.

"Surprised to see me?" Signora greets sweetly, and if not for the murderous glint in her eyes, he would smile back.

"Yeah, I didn't say Bloody Mary three times." The ginger replies, keeping a steady eye on the upperclassman in case she pulls a fast one.

The blonde shoves him aside in offence, and prances in like she owns the goddamn place. Scaramouche greets her with the bird.

"There's this rumour going around—I'm sure you've heard..."

"Oh?" Childe pockets his keys, ready for an attack, not even remotely interested in the topic.

"Something about how Y/N gave Mona a visit today" Signora muses, elegantly taking a seat on the arm of the couch, "with your date and all, I just thought you should know."

"Hah!" Scaramouche bursts out in laughter, tears in the corner of his eyes. "I can't believe she went to get a horoscope reading on how shitty your date's gonna be."

"Get castrated." Childe growls, flipping him off on both hands.

"Now now boys," Signora's lips curl, and she clasps both manicured hands together, prepared to break the fight if it ever reaches its peak. "Settle down. You two are comrades."

"As if I'm comrades with this SIMP!" Scaramouche has to wheeze out the words.

The youngest clenches his fists, unclenches, and then lets a smirk grow. "Oh? I'm the simp? What about that time Mona pantsed you in-front of all the freshmen and you fell in love with her."

Scaramouche glares at him, a glare strong enough to have anyone shaking in their shoes. "I'm attracted at her sheer audacity of trying to fuck I, Scaramouche, the 8th harbinger, over. It takes balls."

"Mad respect." Signora leans forward to place her phone on the coffee table, then approaches Childe. "Moving on, the reason I've decided to bestow my precious intel on you is because I have a favour to ask of you."

"What?" He says blankly, confused that she has a request for him out of all people.

"I need you to let me get you ready for this date of yours." She gives him a gaze that is enough to wither away any arguments.

Childe shares a look with Scaramouche as if to say "am I fucking deaf because I sure as shit didn't just hear that."

"You sure as hell did, boys." Signora intercepts the connection of their two brainwaves with a dreaded sigh. "I hate Y/N. This is the only way I can get back at her."

"Hey!" Childe exclaims loudly, waving his hands in the air incessantly. "What makes you think I'll let you shit on my future girlfriend."

"I'll be doing nothing of the sorts." She points out, giving him a sly smile. "I just know she's terrified of what's coming. The better the date is, the more she's gonna hate herself. What more do I need but to sprinkle some inner conflict within her airtight resolve?"

As favorable as the proposal is, Childe  contemplates for a second. Signora...helping him? This could work to his advantage if he plays his cards right.

His inner turmoil takes him into the future, where you two are happily married with eight and a half kids. If you ever managed to find out Signora was the culprit that was finally able to set you two up, you'd never forgive him.

"Nah I'll take a hard pass." He doesn't want to think about divorce and custody battles this early on. He'd rather face the brunt of Signora's wrath.

Scaramouche chooses right then to make a tactical withdrawal out through the window since he doesn't want to be a witness to a murder he hasn't caused.

Surprisingly— "Fine then." Signora shrugs, unbothered when summoning out a minty juul from no where. She's disappointed nonetheless.

Childe tilts his head, perplexed, but decides against mulling over it for too long. Instead, he strides off to the door, wanting to get the last two periods over with so he can run home and freshen up for this date.

"Oh and Childe?" Signora calls out to him, but he barely acknowledges her, only pausing momentarily without looking back. "A piece of friendly advice. A diligent student like Y/N, there's no way she'd be into rash things like fighting. So try and control yourself, hmm?"

He flashes the senior a sheepish smile, the front row tickets to the illegal underground fight-club burning in the back pocket of his pants.

—

Childe conceals near the bushes by the gate, expertly hiding his shaking hands by pretending to look for something in his back. His goal isn't to seem desperate, even though he's raced out here at the speed of light after Havria's dismissal.

It's not like he's trying to eavesdrop or anything. He just wants a little insight on how you're feeling about this, in case the rumors of you visiting the occult club wasn't a farce.

From his peripheral, he spots you and a familiar figure that is Lisa, leisurely walking side by side as you approach the main side walk.

"Ready for your date, Y/N? You've been daydreaming all afternoon." Lisa winks, and dodges the shove you send her way with experience like no other.

"Yes, daydreaming about punching you in the face." Your left eye twitches in annoyance as you fix your hold on your skateboard.

"Well then, I'll be off—ah!"

The gorilla grip you have on her sleeve takes away all the time she has to get on the last bus she's about to miss.

Your utter strength is enough to make Childe's knees weak. How pathetic he thinks.

"Oh no you don't," You say in a sing-song voice, "you got me into this, so you're going to help."

"Help with what?" Lisa fakes a hard pout as she bats her lashes, trying to collect pity points.

"I—" You inhale, loosening your grip on her and averting your eyes nervously to see if anyone's watching. "Don't make me say it."

The older girl motions for you to continue, and you're sure you've suffered more for less at this point.

"I've never...been on a..." The sentence ends in a trailed murmur.

Childe doesn't think he's ever seen you so flustered. He's about to snap a picture for later, but decides against it. They'll be plenty of moments later on to see your cute expressions.

Lisa's grin is both seductive and terrifying, Childe notices. "You've never been on a date?"

"Shut up!" You hiss, dropping your board so you can cover her lips with your palm, eyes darting around your surroundings frantically. "Not so loud."

He has to bite at his fist to hide his amusement.

As if she has a sixth sense, Lisa's eyes somehow find Childe's through the abundance of leaves, and there's a glint in her eyes that nearly makes him shart his pants.

"Of course Y/N," She replies sweetly to you, who is currently unaware of the staring match going on. "I'll teach you everything you need to know...and more."

Childe doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing. Nor does he want to find out.

—

You ponder on what's taking him so long, more on edge than you usually are. Thankfully, Lisa basically pried your hair down from its usual up-do. Said something about how you can hide your lack of shits given as to not offend him.

Except you think you're giving more shits that you expected to. Why else would your heart be pounding so hard?

"What took you so long?" You sense him creeping up on you, ceasing his chance to pounce.

Childe groans playfully and slaps a hand over his face as he comes into view. "How'd you know?"

"You have a douche-styled gait." You reply as you remove your gaze off your phone to approach him.

He's prepared to shoot a witty reply, but it dies halfway through his throat when he procures a good look at you. Your hair frames your face elegantly, eyes shining despite the tiredness that's so clear, all complete with a cooling spring dress that hugs you just right.

Mouth going dry, he forgets how to speak the common tongue, unable to tear his gaze off your form.

You shift in place awkwardly. "Uh are you okay? Looking a little...blank."

"Sorry—sorry just thinking." Childe stumbles over his words like the complete idiot and a half he is, berating himself countlessly on the inside. He regains his confidence once he spots the light dust on your cheeks. "You ready for the best date ever?"

"The best date huh?" It's the first time you smile today, and he swears his heart leaps in his rib cage. You're the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on. "I'm ready. I better not be disappointed."

"I wouldn't dare disappoint, girlie." He feigns mock offence as dramatically as possible. "I'll show you how to have some real fun. Cool keychain by the way, for good luck?"

It's one of the charms Chongyun urged you to carry with you at all times to keep all forms of evil away.

"Yeah...something like that."

The two of you ease into the walk in a relatively comfortable fashion, contributing with lively chatter and a few jabs here and there. It's not awkward at all, not like you thought it would be. Your nerves loosen up, mind diverting from the roots of the stress of high school.

"—And you won't believe what Kaeya did the other day. I'm telling you there's something wrong with him because that SoundCloud rapper wannabe Venti goaded him into birdboxing through the hallways at lunch."

"And the son of a bitch did it?"

"The son of a bitch did it." Childe confirmed, gasping through his laughs as the two of you converse in psychobabble. "And guess who he bumped into?"

You're choking in laughter, tears in your eyes as you hunch over and shake. "He didn't. Childe—no he didn't."

"Straightttt into Diluc. And he had the balls to feel him up because he thought he bumped into a hot bab—"

Childe crashes into a sturdy chest and stumbles backwards towards you, but manages to catch his balance midway. Both of you freeze when faced with a buff guy from another school, bandages on his fist and a crooked smirk on his face.

Fuck. You think. Classic high school cliché.

Realizing he can't risk the remainder of this date when it hasn't even begun, Childe raises a hand in apology, aiming to be the bigger person instead of socking the kid in the face.

"Sorry. I wasn't looking." He offers to the guy, but you can tell he isn't buying any of it. There are about four more kids who group, a setup that isn't going to end in your favour.

"Hey punk. You don't remember me?" The upperclassmen barks out, glaring holes into your date.

You deadpan towards Childe, but he's too is racking his brain to remember. Ends up shrugging with no recollection.

"I have a list of names but they're in my other pants." Shit, what an a-grade reply. Now you know you're done for. "Listen dude, I'm kind of on a date and the vibe is going great. Don't ruin it."

"It's a good thing she's here to watch then!" The guy yells, stomping so that he's right in-front of Childe, ready to pounce. "You humiliated me in front of my gang last week. I'm here to rip you a new one."

Childe blinks, tries to remember, and when he doesn't, he grabs a wad full of cash from the his Fanny pack and throws it at the guy's feet.

Everyone's eyes bulge out of their sockets, including yours at the amount of money placed there casually on the crack of the dirty sidewalk.

"Hopefully this is enough for the damages." Childe offers, aiming to not further escalate the situation albeit how pissed he is right now. If you weren't here...well that would be another, much more violent story.

With a soft tug, Childe brings you close and begins to pass the guy, until he's abruptly stopped by a hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

"I don't think so!" The guys barks, and his lackeys move to surround you two. "You gotta pay taxes too buddy." Oh he's getting way too comfortable now.

A feral smile grows on Childe's face as he looks over his shoulder. "Oh?"

"Yeah shithead." The guy seethes, puffing out his chest to size him up.

Childe itches for a fight. He can no longer keep in the urge and is just about ready to raise a heavy fist, but is beaten by the sound of a loud thwack, and then a painful groan following.

There you are, standing in front of the trembling asshole, spinning your crossbody bag in circles like it's a nunchuck in all it's glory. There's a deadly glint in your eyes, pure, unadulterated vexation in your features.

If Childe could fall for you any harder, it's probably happening now. In that exact moment, his heart beats in his ears uncontrollably, and there's nothing but raw adoration that piles up all at once.

You're an angel of destruction, a force not to be reckoned with, and shit, you're the eye of the fucking storm.

Fire courses through your veins as you pulverize the guy with your bag, swinging with such expertise it has Childe in awe. "He may be an absolute idiot for not remembering—"

"Hey girlie you're killing me here!" Your date snaps out of his astonishment temporarily.

"—but you don't get to call him a shithead, you asshole!" You snarl angrily, gripping the handle of your bag tightly, decking everyone that lunges at you, letting out strings of curses with every hit. Every hit sends a flock of them either stumbling back in pain, or knocked out completely.

Childe doesn't even get a chance to lift a finger by the time you're done violating them with your heavy ass pink bag. Stands there like an absolute loser.

"Apologize." You pant, prepared to send another flurry of attacks at the leader, who is crawling away with a battered face. "Apologize or I'll—I'll fucking Russian neck tie your ass."

"S-sorry!" The guy whimpers out and tries not to piss his pants at the threat.

Childe is still in too much shock at the whole ordeal to reply, short circuiting.

Another thirty seconds pass until he registers the smaller hand waving in front of his face. He catches your cold hand through his haze, brings it closer.

Running a free hand through his locks, he doesn't hide his astonishment. "You're fucking gorgeous, girlie." He whistles lowly, eyeing you with a new kind of regard.

"I-I uh." Your face is all shades of red by now, the adrenaline from kicking ass wearing down. "Let's go."

"How is that bag so heavy?" One of the fallen gasps out in pain, clutching his ribs as he trembles on the floor. "Like a buh-brick."

A part of your zipper in open, and Childe briefly peeks out of morbid curiosity. His jaw slackens. "Is that a...no, it can't be."

"It's a brick." You murmur guiltily, gnawing at your bottom lip. "Just in case." Fingers tentatively play with the straps.

Childe is head over heels by now, all smitten as a foreign warmth bubbles up in his throat, and he's just about sure he'll puke his heart out.

His next words are picked out carefully. "There's an underground fight club going on—"

You lock and aim for his right kidney.

Worth a try, Childe thinks.

"SIKE. Joking—joking. Just a joke." He insists, gloved hands raised by his ears in defence.

Clicking your tongue, you scowl and rush past him.

It hasn't even been an hour and it's been the most exciting date Childe's ever experienced. When he sees your lips twitch, he knows it's the same for you as well.

"Are we going or not?" You mumble, avoiding eye contact, a tinge of red still decorating your cheeks.

Childe crumbles into his hands at your deadly duality. One that comes for his enemies and one that comes straight for his heart.

[grey-eyed-menace]

Like A Dame (Snapshots)

Mammon: *trying his best at being casual* ...so, uh, why're you and Flower-Girl in suits?

Sora: *looking down at her watch in vague interest, frowning at the time* Diavolo provided our outfits for the evening, I complied, Mio guilt tripped Lucifer and Satan into providing a mishmash of their clothes.

Mammon: *visibly disappointed* Don't ya still have a bunch of leftover dresses from the other times?

Sora: And deal with Asmo's appraising glare? No thanks, I get enough flack from him as is about my lack of taste in fashion. I mean, fuck the rest of the Devildom, but I live with Asmodeus. I have to deal with that shit, I'm not Mio, I can't just zone out.

---------------------------------------------------

[Pan behind the refreshments where Leviathan, Mio, and Beel have decided to hide out for the night. The latter two of which are currently splitting what looks like to be an entire raspberry cheesecake, and the former seems to be playing a Gacha game on Mio's phone.]

(Luke stumbles upon them, wearing a rather pretty sailor dress, with his hair done up in pigtails. He puts his hands on hips, frowns cutely, and looks down on them in disappointment.)

Luke: Is this really how you spend every event? No variation?

Mio: *casually fork wrestling Beel away from her three claimed slices of cheesecake* Not every event, no. Sometimes, Belphie or Satan join us, other times Levi and I shack up in the coat room, or Beel decides too safeguard the entire refreshment table. There's plenty of variation.

Luke: That's not what I meant and you know it.

Mio: And you're hiding from Phenex, aren't you?

[In the distance, a rather high pitched call of 'Luke!' can be heard as an incredibly pretty female looking aqua haired demon traverses the dance floor.]

Luke: ...*sighs* Can you slide over?

------------------------------------

Sora: So that was Marchosias?

Satan: Yes, unfortunately, it seems she's not incredibly fond of you.

Sora: *blinks stupidly* Not fond? She's my lab partner. If anything, she loves me. It's just... Well, I'm hanging out with the guys she kind of... You know, followed into hell? It's awkward dude. Like... I think I've seen her vault out a six story building just to avoid Beel.

Satan: Truly?

Sora: *shrugs* Hey, a large majority of people avoid their family like the plague, others try to stay connected, and some, like Phenex, decide that they're gonna be said families problem. Whether they like it or not.

Satan: And you? What's your category?

Sora: *without so much as pausing to think* Reluctant orphan adoptee with five siblings, three cousins, and a really fucking weird extended family.

------------------------------------

Solomon: Ah, Diana!

[Solomon rushes over to his old student with a bright smile, clad in a black form fitting dress with white accents, paired with a gold sash, and silver heels. He also, rather inexplicably, has a rather modest set of breasts.]

(Diana, by comparison, is dressed in a rather oversized midnight blue tux with a grey bowtie, and a white sash around her hips, a large spade sewn over her heart.)

Diana: *blinks tiredly, presses a hand to her face, and sighs, preparing herself for an oncoming clusterfuck* Yes Solomon?

Solomon: *grin persisting* I'm calling in a favor, I need you to help me with something.

Diana: *closes eyes, breaths in, and then exhales* ...next time, next time, I'm taking Bridget and Eirny up on that fourth honey moon.

------------------------------------

Spade: Has anyone ever told you that you're infuriating?

Phenex: *humming as they drag him around the dance floor* Constantly, you?

Spade: Only my children.

------------------------------------

[As the party begins to wind down, Mio has decided to briefly venture out from behind the refreshments table, only to come upon a staring contest between Phenex and Simeon.]

(Simeon looks incredibly uncomfortable. Phenex is simply Smiling, it's not a pretty smile, no, it's the smile that got Diavolo to back down from including them and Luke in the butler fiasco.)

Mio: ...do I want to know?

Simeon: *still uneasily meeting Phenex's gaze* No.

Phenex: *still Smiling* It's just drama between siblings, you understand don't you Mio-chan?

(Mio raises an eyebrow at Simeon, then turns to Phenex, and back to Simeon, before casting her gaze to where Luke and the others were at before sighing.)

Mio: Right, uh, well, I'll be leaving then, see you guys at R.A.D. tomorrow, I suppose.

(Mio proceeds to speed walk back to where Beel, Levi, and Luke are without a second thought.)

------------------------------------

[By way of an escaped Lucifer, the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins are currently dancing with one another.]

(Mio is leaning against Sora's shoulder, as the latter leads her through the steps of a butchered slow waltz.)

Mio: How's day been so far? Well, I know mine hasn't been the best, Levi stole the last cupcake.

Sora: *sighing* I see you've been dreadfully bored.

Mio: Bored doesn't begin to cover it, I miss the more... Nerve wracking events!

Sora: Mio, we nearly die everytime those events happen.

Mio: Not always! Sometimes I get lucky! I got to hold Mammon's hand during that room by room puzzle!

Sora: ...Lord above *pointedly ignoring the scandalized gasps from passing demons* you two are pathetic.

------------------------------------

[After what seems to be an eternity, Diana and Spade join together on the dance floor.]

(Sora and Asmo watch from by the refreshments opposite to the one Beel, Levi, and Mio are hiding behind, Diana and Spade gliding right by them, completely ignorant of their presence, only focused on one another.)

Sora: *eyes following them* Please tell me you feel like your intruding, please, I don't want to feel alone.

Asmo: *humming, already going about fixing Sora's bun* I don't know why you're hoping to find solidarity with me Sora, I mean, it's cute, but honestly? This just excites me. To see something so intimate and gentle... Ah, it makes me ache for simpler times.

Sora: *whimpers*

Asmo: *pats her shoulder reassuringly*

------------------------------------

[It's the last dance of the night, and the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins are each dancing with their own prospective partners completely stone-faced.]

(Sora, dressed in a silver suit and black tie, with her hair up in a braided bun reminiscent of Arturia Pendragon, is dancing with Mammon.

Mio, by comparison, dancing with Belphie, and therefore helping support him, is dressed in an odd mishmash of Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan's clothes. A pair of navy blue slacks, a black dress shirt, dark pink tie and white blazer. Her hair is gathered into a short ponytail at the base of her skull, tied off with a red ribbon. Asmo is distinctly glaring at her from where he's dancing with Diana.)

Mammon: What's got you pissed off Girlie?

Sora: *still completely stone-faced* Fate, the world, Phenex's continued existence, an array of things. Most glaringly, perhaps it's the fact that you couldn't ask my cousin to dance so you stole me away from Beel and Belphie?

Mammon: *clears throat, as Sora leads him into an awkward dip* ...right, got me there Girlie.

(Across the floor, Belphie stirs enough to ask a question.)

Belphie: Why're you so stiff? Actually, why aren't you Sora, and where is Beel?

Mio: *pointedly smiling at Asmo as he passes by with Diana before answering* Mammon's a coward, and Lady Rose is genuinely convinced I'm a man.

Belphie: *already drifting off again* Got it...

------------------------------------

[After the ball ends, the brothers and the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins proceed with the trek home.]

(Beel has taken to supporting Belphie with his left arm, while Sora, on his right, proceeds to routinely supply him with snacks.

Mio has taken to trying to convince Levi to give her phone back before they arrive at the House of Lamentation, while riding on Mammon's back piggy back style, grin plastered on her face, with Levi arguing hotly about being in the middle of raid on a mobile dungeon game of some sort.

Asmo is on Mammon's left side, mumbling obscenities about Mio's fashion choices.

Meanwhile, Satan and Lucifer are at the back of the pack quietly bickering about something or other.

Phenex, as usual, is stocking the poor 'family' of nine from the shadows.)

Sora: It was a good night, you know.

Beel: *chewing around a candy bar of some sort, and shifting Belphie's weight slightly* Yeah, it kinda was, wish there was more food at the refreshments table though, it was good.

Sora: Meh, I'll take your word for it, all I had was some of that Blood Punch, which... Yeah, not really for me, I think Solomon spiked it with something for the lesser demons.

Beel: Is that why Diana looked like she wanted to drop dead every time Diavolo came by for a drink?

Sora: Mmh, that and I think it was because she was forced to dance with Phenex for most of the night, she and Mister Spade only danced once, even if lasted the rest of the night.

(They silent the rest of the way to the House of Lamentation. At which, they all separate, undress, and promptly pass out, well, except for Levi, who remains with Mio's phone held hostage well until early morning.)

------------------------------------

[The next morning, the household is rather groggy as they make their way down to breakfast.]

Mammon: Last night must 'ave been something else, my feet freakin' hurt.

Beel: You're one to talk, I feel like my ankles are planning a mutiny.

Mio: I woke up in a binder, guys, a binder. What the hell? I thought I wasn't going to be the Dame!

Sora: At least you didn't feel like you were suffocating the entire night, my chest still feels like it's about to cave in, fucking hell...

Levi: *shrugs* I'm actually fine with whatever happened.

Belphie: *head thunks against the table*

(Several moments later, there's an array of notifications from Asmo's phone. Loud shrill beeps are all that make up the next two or so minutes.)

Lucifer: *sighs* ...It seems I forgot about the social media ban, lovely.

[theseventhoffrostfall]

Fallout-anon here. Just wanted to share a few more ideas I had for my "perfect" Institute idea. Where the Institute has reclaimed part of Boston and has turned it into its own technologically-advanced city.

One of my ideas would have been that, in this world, since the Institute is already on the surface and well-known for its technology, the Insitute has its own "mascot." By mascot, I mean that the Institute created a fictional character, a sort of super genius scientist/agent who fights evil in a radio show. The reason for it is because the Institute argues that kids in the Commonwealth have no real role models and that, rather than have them look up to a guy who spends his time killing people for money or reading Pre-War comic book trash, they can hear the stories about the "amazing Doc Tesla" (or some kind of catchy name) and how he protects the Commonwealth from evil using his super smarts. I get if it's a bit goofy for your tastes, but I just like the idea of someone trying to make a good role model for kids to look up to. In-game, you'd hear kids talk about the cool radio show and how they're studying more because they want to be smart and save the world too.

In contrast to that, outside of the Institute-controlled city, you'd have the rest of the Commonwealth. While some would love to live in the Institute's city, others are a bit wary. You see, following the war, many survivors became disgusted with the use of science and technology, seeing as how much misery and grief all these "miracle" inventions gave them. Further fueling this idea of turning away from high-technology were scientists who, remorseful over their part in building the bombs, took a vow that mankind should embrace an era of "simplicity is beauty." Now, this wouldn't mean that the people you meet in game are backwater illiterates who live in shacks and have sex with each other-- instead, you'd meet people who have actual farms, working plumbing, shabby but comfortable homes, and actual skills like repairing machinery or making natural medicine. They didn't reject technology to live like cavemen, but they live a life of simplicity. No Mr. Handies, no nuclear-powered generators, nothing that isn't more advanced than a water wheel or a steam generator. These people trust farmers, plumbers, and machinists more than a doctor or a scientist. After all, if you're not controlling the machine, who's to say it's not controlling you?

I actually like the radio show idea. You get another bit of reference to 50's retro stuff, while at the same time it's actually justified in-story as a bit of propaganda designed to be kid-friendly.

Speaking of propaganda, how do you envision the trend of luddite-lites (or Luddlites, if you will) interacting with the Brotherhood? Again, my idea for them is that they only have small missions and scouting forces in the Commonwealth rather than a massive army, but maybe if we were combining the ideas, the Brotherhood's main effort here is a series of embassies, where they push the ideas of "yes, technology unfettered is bad, you're right. The knowledge should be preserved, and options of high-tech countermeasures against grave threats should be kept, but that's what makes it important that scientific knowledge be safeguarded in responsible hands. Like, you know, ours."