#I guess I’d let him express himself and then express myself and explain where I’m at right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

life-at-hogwarts · 1 year ago

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Crucio (Ominis x GN! reader) HURT/COMFORT

Pairing: Ominis x reader

Warnings: whump, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, alcohol

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: When you get trapped in Salazar Slytherin’s room of torture, Ominis is forced to relive past trauma. Not being able to bear hearing the sound of your screams he insists on taking your place.

Authors note: This is the first fic I actually finished, hope you enjoy it. Might be a one shot, but I’m thinking about continuing the story.

Finally, Ominis turned around to face you. His expression softened, his mask melting away, revealing the hurricane of emotions he was struggling to hold back.

“Please let me do it. I’d rather take the pain that hear you scream. Believe me, you’ll never forget these kinds of screams. I can’t take hearing you suffer. Please, „ he pleaded. It was an impossible choice, but when you looked at him you knew what to do.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure. Not my first time, remember?”

---

“This is where she died. This is where we’ll die! I shouldn’t have listened to either of you!” Ominis cried out, his voice unusually shrill. While you were searching for comforting things to say, Sebastian, who had been studying the door finally broke his silence. “I’m sorry about your aunt, Ominis. But I know how to get us out of here. It’s going to be difficult,” he murmured absentmindedly. Unlike his friend, the tall brunette did not seem to be bothered by the situation at all, which could only mean he had already come up with a plan.

“What do you mean you know how to get us out of here?” you asked.

“Look around. Tortured faces on the door and ‘Crucio’ etched into the stone. My guess is if we cast the Cruciatus curse the door will open. That’s why Noctua died - she had no one to cast the curse on. Ominis has the most experience with this. He should cast it. You seem to be in Ominis’ favor. Will you ask him about this?”

Knowing how insensitive Sebastian could be, you agreed and carefully approached Ominis, who was still anxiously pacing on the other side of the room. Before you could say anything, he blurted out, “I overheard you and Sebastian, and I won’t do it. The Cruciatus curse is pure torture - I would know.”

“Sebastian told me a little of what happened when you were young. It sounded as if you had no choice,” you replied, hoping he wouldn’t mind his friend sharing this with you. You still vividly remembered how badly he reacted to finding out you knew about the Undercroft. To your surprise, this time he didn’t even mention it. If anything, he seemed glad that he didn’t have to explain it to you himself.

“One always has a choice. I’m as guilty as the worst of my family. Unforgivable curses won’t work unless you really mean them. I had to want to cause pain and for that I shall never forgive myself. That spell is the reason I have no family left,” he exclaimed frantically.

“You’re not a bad person, Ominis. I know you. You are good. What happened was not your fault, do you hear me? You have to forgive yourself.”

Ominis misty grey eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t make me do it. I can’t. I won’t,” he whimpered and covered his ears with his hands, as if to block out a noise only he could hear. “I don’t want to. Please don’t make me.”

Shocked by his reaction you immediately started apologizing. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t even have asked. We will figure out another way, I promise,” you assured him, softly placing your hand on his arm. Seeing him this upset rattled you, and you wanted nothing more than give him a hug, but he pulled away and sat down on the floor, cradling his head and rocking back and forth. Unsure what to do you looked at Sebastian for help. He gestured with his head to come to him. You felt awful leaving Ominis like this but obeyed his bidding.

“I’m guessing that’s a ‘no’ from Ominis. It’s up to us then. I can teach you Crucio or I can cast it on you.”

“You know how to cast Crucio? Why did you have me ask Ominis in the first place? You know how badly that spell messed him up!” you snapped at him, pointing at his friend who clearly was not doing well.

“I’m not sure I do. But I think I can cast it if I have to. It sure is a better option than dying in here,” Sebastian replied calmly. His composure was truly remarkable, and you were glad that at least one of you was keeping a cool head. Now it was your turn to do your part. You had already made the decision.

“Alright. But you must cast it. I could never bring myself to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Sebastian nodded and you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to brace yourself for what was coming next. When you opened them again the two of you exchanged a solemn look, and he pulled out his wand. Before he could open his mouth, Ominis had crossed the room, moving with the stealth and swiftness of a cat and grabbed Sebastian’s arm, forcing him to lower his wand.

“Cast it on me,” he demanded, his face an impenetrable mask.

“Ominis, no. He’ll cast it on me,” you protested but the blonde ignored you, standing his ground.

“Didn’t know you’re all so eager to be tortured,” Sebastian remarked dryly.

Finally, Ominis turned around to face you. His expression softened, his mask melting away, revealing the hurricane of emotions he was struggling to hold back. “Please let me do it. I’d rather take the pain that hear you scream. Believe me, you’ll never forget these kinds of screams. I can’t take hearing you suffer. Please, „ he pleaded. It was an impossible choice, but when you looked at him you knew what to do.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure. Not my first time, remember?”

You recalled what Sebastian had told you earlier regarding Ominis’ experience with the curse. The thought of his family torturing him as a child, made your blood boil with anger, and now he had to go through it again. Everything inside of you was screaming to take his place but you knew how stubborn he could be. You opened your mouth, ready to argue, but closed it again when you caught Sebastian quietly shaking his head to signal you that you should leave it alone. This way Ominis at least had some control over the situation. The tall brunette took the lead, by pointing his wand and preparing himself to cast the spell.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at Ominis grimly.

“I’m ready.”

Sebastian took a deep breath and his eyes darkened.

“Crucio.”

The second the spell hit him, Ominis groaned and doubled over in pain, his body twitching involuntarily as the curse shot through him in a bolt of cackling red light. The door seemed to feed off his pain, absorbing every single drop of it. You watched with tears in your eyes as he fell to his knees screaming out in agony. Ominis had been right. This was awful. The sounds he made vibrated through your entire body, making the hair on your neck stand up in terror. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stop it, Sebastian.” you screamed hysterically, your voice breaking but he shook his head again. The door was not open yet. Not knowing what to do you threw yourself on the floor next to Ominis and took his hand, hoping it would give him some sort of comfort. His screaming had died down to a mere whimpering, which for some reason was even worse. You fought the urge to hold your ears to block out the awful sounds coming from the boy on the ground and held his hand even tighter. At last, the door started to melt away, giving way to the room behind it and Sebastian stopped the spell.

Ominis was on his side, his misty eyes staring into nothingness. “Ominis?” you asked carefully but he didn’t react. Sebastian joined you and kneeled next to his other side, checking on his friend. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?” When this too was met with silence you exchanged a worried look with Sebastian. You had both heard the horror stories of people being driven mad by the curse. “Ominis. Say something.” After another 30 seconds that felt like an eternity, he opened his mouth and whispered, “I’m fine.” Slowly, he sat up and a small sob escaped your lips. He was a mess. His face was wet with tears, his hair disheveled and robes covered in dirt. “Don’t scare us like that,” Sebastian grumbled and roughly patted his friend’s shoulder, before getting up and glancing through the doorway. “You have to see this! We made it. We found Salazar Slytherin’s scriptorium.”

Still in shock, you watched Sebastian disappear into the other room, leaving you alone with Ominis. For a moment, you sat in silence, both trying to process what just happened. “Are you really alright?” you asked, even though you could already guess the answer. He most definitely did not look okay. In fact, you had never seen him in such a state before. He was there but not really present. The confident, sassy Slytherin you had gotten to know and love was gone, his body an empty shell. It was like he was trapped in his own dimension of hell, having to relive the torture he went through as a child. He flinched when your question brought him back to reality, then slowly turned his head to face you, “Not really. You?” “Not really.”

You fell into each other’s arms, desperately holding on to each other, trying to find comfort in the warmth of the embrace. You felt his body relax against yours and leaned into him, even more. A stifled sob escaped his mouth, and he buried his head in your shoulder. Following his example, you let your tears flow freely. The sound of his screams still rang in your ears. The sheer agony in his voice was the worst thing you’ve ever heard, and you couldn’t stop replaying it in your head. You needed him as much as he needed you. His arms wrapped around you, holding on to you as if you were the only thing keeping him from drowning.

You let your fingers run through his hair and pressed your face into his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his shampoo. Your touch seemed to have a calming effect on him, his breathing slowed down and his grip on you weakened. “You’re okay,” you murmured over and over again, like a mantra, unsure if you were saying this to soothe him or yourself. Slowly, the chaos in your head started to ebb down. It was impossible to tell if you stayed like this for minutes or hours but neither of you was ready to let go. Finally, Ominis tightened his grip on you once more before breaking away.

For a moment you looked at each other in awkward silence, both unsure what to say after the intimate moment you had just shared. “Ominis…” you started but he interrupted you. “I don’t want to talk about it. For now, let’s focus on getting out of here.”

With one swift movement he got up and elegantly offered you his hand. A gentleman as always. Glad, that he seemed to be back to his old self again, you let him help you up. After dusting himself off, he took the lead and walked towards the entrance of the scriptorium, with you following close behind. All of a sudden, your gaze fell on the pile of bones in the corner, and you froze. “What’s wrong?” Ominis asked, his voice full of concern. “Your aunt. Her…remains are right behind you.” “Oh.” You guided his hand towards the spot so that he could see it with his wand, watching his face closely for his reaction but he remained expressionless. Then he quietly asked, “Would you mind giving me a minute alone?” It broke your heart how much pain he had to endure in one single night, and you squeezed his arm reassuringly before stepping through the doorway.

When you entered the scriptorium, you were greeted by Sebastian, who seemed to be completely oblivious to what just happened. “What is taking you guys so long? Come take a look at what I found. Slytherin’s spell book. I have only browsed but it looks promising. I think this could be the key to curing Anne.” His eyes sparkled with excitement when he showed you the old dusty tome with Slytherin’s initials on the front.

“That’s great news Sebastian,” you replied, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Of course, you were happy that there was new hope for curing Anne, but the price for this book had been high and Ominis was the one who had had to pay it. Sebastian didn’t notice and enthusiastically continued talking while he showed you around the scriptorium.

“This room is amazing. I could spend hours and hours rummaging through all of these books.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s with the sour face? Ominis is fine, isn’t he?” he grumpily asked, as he turned around to look for his friend, who was nowhere to be seen.

“No. And neither am I. I want to leave. You got what you came here for.” It wasn’t your way to be so cross with him, but you were still on edge and desperately wanted to get away from this place, that was practically vibrating with dark magic.

Sebastian looked at you with a mixture of confusion and defiance. “You can’t be serious? There is still so much to explore.” You let out a deep sigh and prepared to argue, when Ominis appeared at the foot of the stairs, joining in on the conversation. “I agree. Let’s get out of here.” His voice was calm and authoritative, leaving no room for debate. In one hand, he held his wand, the other was clutching a gigantic vase. You furrowed your brows in confusion before you realized what he had been doing while you and Sebastian had been talking. “Is that…?”

“I am going to take her with me. Give her a proper burial.”

Finally, understanding dawned in Sebastian’s face and he gave in, waiting for you to take the vase from Ominis before gesturing to follow him. The exit was hidden in an eerie looking statue of Salazar Slytherin’s face with a snake coming out of its mouth. Sebastian stepped forward and tapped the snake’s head with his wand, causing the statue to rotate and reveal a platform of sorts. “After you.” A few minutes later, when all of you were back in the Slytherin dungeon, Sebastian spoke up. “About your aunt Ominis -”

“Please, Sebastian. All I want is for you to swear never to engage in anything to do with dark magic ever again. You almost got us all killed tonight, with your stupid obsession with the scriptorium.”

“We are so close to curing Anne. I found Slytherin’s spell book in the scriptorium, and I think I saw something that could be useful….”

Ominis face crumpled with pain and disappointment. His best friend truly did not care about anything other than his search for a cure. He turned away from Sebastian, who was still rambling on about some spell he had found. When he noticed that Ominis wasn’t listening he snapped at him, “Why are you not happy for me? I thought you cared about my sister.”

After a long, tiring night, you’d had enough of his selfish behavior and stepped in.

„I know how important finding a cure for Anne is to you, but right now this is about Ominis. We put him through hell tonight, do you understand that? He has every right to be angry at you. You keep putting yourself before everyone else and completely ignore the wreckage you leave in your path.”

Sebastian glared at you, ready to retaliate. “Why isn’t he angry at you then? After all, you convinced him to go in there.”

“I’m sure he is, and he is right to be. Tonight was a mistake. Now take this and find a place to hide it for tonight. It’s the least you can do. Tomorrow we will decide what to do with it. I’m taking Ominis home.” You handed him the vase with Noctua’s remains and held his angry gaze.

“He can find his own way back to the dorms you know. He’s not helpless.”

“Of course he can. I just don’t want him to be alone right now.”

With that you turned around and demonstratively took Ominis hand, interlocking your fingers with his. “Let’s go.” You felt his surprise, but he went along with it and didn’t pull away. Usually, he hated it when people tried to help him in any sort of way, and you almost expected him to snap at you but tonight he was tame as a kitten, letting you lead him down the corridor, away from a fuming Sebastian. He too seemed to be too tired to argue. The sound of your steps echoed through the empty corridors as you walked in silence. When you stopped in front of the entrance of the Slytherin dorms, you waited for him to take charge and decide whether or not he wanted to invite you into their common room. He didn’t let go of your hand when he spoke the password and the gigantic snake revealed the door. After a few seconds of hesitation, he stepped forward, gently pulling you with him and you followed.

You had been here quite a few times with Sebastian, still the elegance and grandeur of the Slytherin common room never ceased to amaze you. The room was filled with eerie greenish light leaking from the windows showing the depths of the black lake. The only sound was the gentle cackle of wood being devoured by the flames. You followed Ominis, or rather let him guide you, to a sofa right in front of the big windows that faced the water. Only then did he let go of your hand and slumped into the soft pillows. You awkwardly waited a few moments before sitting down yourself. Ominis rubbed his face and sighed wearily, “I don’t need you to stand up for me.”

“I know. I just wanted to make it clear to him how wrong his behavior was tonight. I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I should have never asked you to show us the entrance. This is my fault.”

“I appreciate that. I have already forgiven you. Everybody makes mistakes.”

You raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that Ominis was usually not one to hold back his anger when someone screwed up. His tongue was as sharp as his wits and not something to be messed with, as you knew from firsthand experience. Tonight, he was oddly calm, it was almost unsettling.

“Yeah, but mine almost got us killed.”

“You know me. I’m a thrill seeker,” he replied dryly, making you snort with laughter. Amused by this, Ominis too started giggling and you laughed even harder. It probably was the adrenaline, but you could not stop laughing, both of you cackling hysterically like maniacs. It took you some time to calm down, but the laughter had helped dissolve some of the stress and you felt a little better.

“Glad you have your sense of humor back. Seriously though, are you going to be okay?” you asked solemnly.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you, silly. You have been through a lot tonight.”

“Please don’t. I can’t…I can’t talk about it,” he whispered, and his entire body stiffened. Trying to hide how much this affected him he dug his nails into the palms of his trembling hands and avoided your gaze.

“That’s alright. Just know, if you do need to talk, I’m here for you,” you replied softly and placed a hand on his outstretched leg. By now you understood that physical touch had a calming effect on him. It was odd, since he was a very withdrawn person, not like Sebastian, who was rather touchy and comfortable with physical proximity. Ominis was a proper gentleman, always keeping his distance, never intruding your personal space. Yet tonight he really seemed to need the intimacy of human touch.

“There should be some firewhiskey in the globe behind us, would you mind getting it?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m inviting you to join me for a nightcap.”

“Well, if you put it like that, how could I resist?” you chuckled and got up.

As promised, when you opened the globe, you found an almost full bottle of firewhiskey. You waved the bottle in the air letting the liquid slosh loudly against the glass, to let him know about your find and returned to the sofa, but it was empty. Ominis had made himself comfortable on the floor in front of it, resting his arms on the seat. Following his example, you sat down next to him on the soft carpet and handed him the bottle. He took a deep swig of the bronze liquid and passed it on to you. You took a small sip and coughed, quickly handing it back to Ominis. After another few sips he broke the silence.

“Why are you so kind to me?”

“Because I care about you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

Too tired to talk, you reached for his hand, and he took it. The way his fingers wrapped around yours ever so gently felt like the most natural thing in the world and you felt the urge to never let go of his hand again. For a while you sat in silence, quietly passing the whiskey back and forth, then Ominis spoke up again.

“You know why I like to sit here so much?” He paused for a moment to look at you, waiting for you to meet his gaze. For a moment you got lost in the reflection of the lake in his milky grey eyes. “Because I like the way, the water breaks the light. I can see light and shadow, you know? When I watch the lake, the light is dancing.”

“That sounds beautiful. Tell me about it.”

“It dances with the rhythm of the waves. It’s so soothing it’s like listening to a lullaby. Sometimes, when it’s stormy it gets really fast and erratic, it’s like I can see the thunderstorm.”

Slowly but surely the alcohol was taking effect and he was struggling to stay awake. He rested his head on your shoulder and asked, “Can we just sit here and watch them for a while?" already starting to slur his words a little.

“Ominis?”

“Mhm?”

“Never scare me like that again.”

Instead of answering he nestled his face into your neck and sighed. You rested your head on his and listened to his breathing slow down as he started to fall asleep, still not letting go of your hand. You smiled at his cute little snores before you too drifted off to sleep.

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daytaker · 7 months ago

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Tea Time

In which MC and Satan accidentally travel to a pocket dimension simulacrum of the underground labyrinth in the demon lord's castle.

Ship: None (MC & Satan, not MC/Satan) Word Count: 2.6k CW: Choking Set in the Nightbringer timeline.

You can find it on AO3 by clicking here.

(Author's note: Just as a heads-up, this is a very "early on in the game" version of Satan. He is mean. He is violent. He is mean and violent towards MC. I keep the tone light but I figured I should be a bit explicit about what you'll find below the cut.)

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Perfect.

So...yep. That’s me. I’m the one on the left, running for my life through a torch-lit labyrinthine corridor, being chased by a three-headed devil dog. Now, it might be a cliche, but we’ve already done the record scratch bit, so I might as well go all out:

You’re probably wondering how I found myself in this situation.

Well! Let me direct your attention to the other individual onscreen. On the right, has black horns, a fur mantle, and murderous intent written all over his face. This charming person is Satan. Yes, that Satan. But also, no, not really that Satan. For this story to make any sense, you’ll have to take my word for it that Satan is, in fact, a skinny blonde kid who looks like he's in his early twenties.

Suspend your disbelief for me, please.

So what happened was this...

I spilled some tea on a book lying haphazardly on the floor of Satan’s room. It was an accident, of course, but try telling him that. I was bringing him tea in bed because he was griping in the group chat about his headache and I’m a very considerate attendant and friend, when suddenly the whole room shook.

Now, I never did figure out why that happened. Maybe Cerberus was acting up. Maybe someone ate Beel’s custard again. Maybe there was an earthquake! I don’t know if Hell has those, but it might be a possibility. The point is, the room shook, and I shook, and the teacup shook, and the tea inside the teacup shook, and it all poured out onto a book on the floor. I hardly noticed it, since the only drops that didn’t land on the book had scalded my hands, meaning I was a bit distracted, but Satan sure did. I don’t know if that headache of his had been exaggerated or if he was so angry that he didn’t care about the pain, but before I even found a place to put down the teacup and tend to my burns, he was out of bed and in my face.

It was scary. I’ll admit it. Satan scared me. Back in my own time, I’d always had the hardest time feeling like I was “getting to” him out of all the brothers. Even Lucifer had clear enough motives and something resembling a moral code that I felt like I could follow. But Satan was different. Always different. He put me on edge with his cynicism and short temper, and he carried himself with a haughtiness that devolved into irritation whenever he felt someone was doing something stupid.

Still, we’d gotten to a point where things were at least friendly between us, and I sometimes got the feeling that he was trying to play-act the sort of easy friendship I’d formed with Mammon and Levi and the rest. But it never felt…authentic. I appreciated the gestures–book recommendations, shopping trips, things like that. But he was never really comfortable, so I was never really comfortable. I guess, more than anything, I felt sorry for him.

…It makes me feel like an asshole to admit that to myself.

That’s Satan from my time, though. This Satan… Where do I even begin? Trying to explain would be tedious, so I’ll just continue with the story and let you figure it out yourself. To recap, this was the situation: I’d spilled tea on his book, but the expression on his face made me feel like I’d been caught killing a kitten. Horror. Disgust. Disbelief. But most of all, rage.

His hands were on my throat before I could get a word out. So we’re back to where I was before this little tangent, when I said: Satan scared me. I was scared. Part of me knew that this wasn’t actually going to be how I died. I’ve been assaulted and almost killed by demons too many times to count. Maybe I should have been used to it by now. But the panic that set in when I couldn’t get air to my lungs, and when I looked into his green eyes, clouded over with fury, and when I felt his hot breath on my face, like I was staring down a raging bull–

You don’t get used to that.

My eyes were watering and my chest was burning and I was clawing at his hands, and as darkness swept over us, I thought that maybe I really was going to die like this.

But then, the hands were gone, and I fell onto my knees, sputtering and wheezing as my pulse thundered in my ears. It was only after a few seconds of steady breathing that I realized my hands were touching a cold stone floor. Wiping my eyes, I looked up. I was in a dark hallway lit with only torches, with divergent pathways splitting off in a variety of directions. It was musty, and damp, and my skin felt clammy, but there wasn’t anything new about this place. Not for me, at least.

“What happened?” Satan’s alarm seemed to have overridden his anger for now. He looked up and down the hallway, peeking down a few of the off-branches, before turning to me again. “What did you do?”

I made a weak attempt at answering, but the instant I inhaled to speak, my throat stopped working, and I burst into a frenzy of dry coughs, gripping my burning chest and neck.

Satan tsked and turned away from me uncomfortably, looking the hallway up and down again. Something seemed to catch his eye at the same time that I caught my breath.

“I don’t… know what happened, but…” I wheezed, and Satan cast me a sharp glare over his shoulder. “I know where we are. This… is the labyrinth… under the Demon Lord’s castle.”

There followed a fresh fit of coughing, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t playing it up somewhat at this point. I wanted him to feel bad. I wanted to see some flicker of guilt on his face. The Satan that I knew was at least capable of that.

“Would you stop that?” was all this one said to me. “I have a headache. And I know where we are. I lived here for a year, or did you forget?” He reached down and picked something up from the shadows by the wall. It was the tea-stained book. He turned and held it out for me to see, silently gloating in this evidence that, whatever had happened, the tea fiasco was related, so this whole thing was really my fault.

Satisfied by my silence, he approached the nearest torch and held the book up to the light. "Mysteries of the Demon King's Castle," he read off the cover. "Now equipped with easy-to-use pocket dimensions, giving you a fully immersive experience– dammit !”

He stopped reading and hurled the book down the hallway, out of sight.

“...I didn’t realize pocket dimensions were unlocked with tea,” I muttered sullenly. “Why did you leave a book with transdimensional charms on it lying on the floor?”

I thought it was a sober, reasonable question, but based on what I could see of Satan’s face, he disagreed. As he turned on me, he suddenly seemed taller than I remembered, so much so that he blocked out the torchlight. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

I couldn’t see what kind of face he was making in the dark, and I was glad about that as I backpedaled somewhat. “I’m… I’m just saying there’s fault to go ‘round!”

That didn’t seem to do much to quell his mounting annoyance. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was angry about at this point. The spilled tea? The wet book? The pocket dimension? The suggestion that he might be partially responsible for our current predicament? All I knew was that there was a dark energy stirring around him. It wasn’t out of control yet, but I took note and stepped back.

“...This is stupid,” he finally mumbled. That illusion that he was taller than before had ended, and he was the same stature as always as he walked in the direction he’d tossed the book. “I’ll get us out.”

I stayed where I was, rubbing my sore neck, and stared into the darkness after him. The sound of footsteps slowed. Everything was silent.

Then the sound of footsteps picked up again. Rapidly. Satan was running back in my direction, and chasing him was–

“Cerberus?!” I was running before I had time to think I should be running. “What’s he doing here?!”

“Shut up!” Satan said rather unhelpfully. Then he made a sudden turn, and I nearly tripped over my feet skidding to a stop and running after him. I made a grab for his hand, just to have something to keep us from being separated in the dark, but he hissed like the touch burned him and pulled it free again.

Now, I was starting to feel pretty angry too.

“Why are we running?” I snapped between pants. “Isn’t that your dog?”

“Lucifer’s,” was his terse reply. “Stop following me. If we split up, at least one of us will live.”

“Are you being serious?” I struggled to keep up my pace while giving him a look of appropriately scathing incredulity.

Satan didn’t appreciate my expression, because he refused to look at me. He kept running, eyes trained forward, gritting his teeth. “I don’t know! I need a minute to think! So shut up!”

Fed up with him, I picked up my pace with the last of my flagging strength and shoved him bodily into a crevice. He was so shocked that for a few seconds, while he was reattaching his jaw to his skull, I was able to take his own advice and assess the situation clearly. No running like a lunatic. No accusatory jabs. Just me and my thoughts… And that was all I needed.

It was incredibly simple. Cerberus was here because Cerberus wasn't really here. This pocket dimension was designed for the book it came with, so it goes to figure that the creatures living in it were little more than illusions.

“How dare you–?”

Satan had recovered his senses and looked ready to lunge at me, so I sidestepped out of the crevice and into the path of the other beast.

“Wind and fire, heed your master’s call!” I shouted. The wind began to whip fiercely around me as the torches blazed. I never got tired of this. It was badass every time. But I didn’t have time to appreciate the theatrics. Cerberus had just rounded a corner and was loping towards me, all three jaws snapping. “Vile illusion! I cast you back into the darkness!”

The wind blew so violently that I could barely keep my balance, and from the sound of a thud and a hissed “damn!” behind me, it seemed like the wind was even less considerate of Satan. But in front of me, the gale seemed to blow the image of Cerberus away. The wind rushed, the torchlight blazed, and in seconds, the creature had vanished completely.

The air settled down and the torches dimmed to their usual brightness. In the absence of the howling wind, every sound was intensified. My heavy breathing. Satan’s heavy breathing. His voice behind me when he rasped, “What…?”

“It wasn’t real,” I answered breathlessly. “Just… an illusion.”

“What…did you do?”

I turned around to face him, only to find him on his knees, fists clenched on his thighs. I wilted somewhat. I hadn’t meant to draw power from him, but he was right there, and the illusion had been so intense…!

“I…guess I had to borrow some of your power to banish the illusion. It- It wasn’t intentional…” I started to stammer out the best excuse I could pull from my ass, but then he looked up at me. His eyes flashed dangerously, his teeth were bared, and the sound he made was more like a snarl than a voice.

“This is my body! You can’t use it! You can’t, you can’t, you can’t! I’ll kill you!”

As enraged as he was, he was too weak to do much about the situation. I mumbled an apology, taking a step back. Satan kept muttering curses under his breath, head bowed, and before long, I’d pushed his words out of my mind. It wasn’t like this was the first time one of the brothers threatened to kill me, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Fatigued from my own burst of mana output, I shut my eyes, slid down the wall, and sat on the floor, running a hand through my hair as I exhaled. We would be fine now, I reassured myself. Satan would blow off his anger, and we’d figure out some way out of here. Leaving a pocket dimension should be relatively simple. Even if that failed, at the very least, Lucifer or Solomon would figure out how to rescue us. Right… All we had to do was…

......

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but then again, who does? When I woke up a short time later, stiff and sore against the stone wall, I was alone in the hallway.

“Satan?”

My voice echoed in the stone passage, and I reflexively shuddered. How many creepy things have chased me down these halls? Sure, this one wasn’t the real thing, but… what else besides Cerberus might be waiting in the wings?

It took some courage for me to shout louder. “Satan!”

Nothing.

I groaned. Loudly, too, just in case he could hear it. That bastard. My head reeled as I forced myself back to my feet. There was no way he would have just walked off into this maze without me, was there?

…Was there?

A nervous knot was growing in my stomach. “Satan, if you can hear me, you’d better say something!”

“Something.”

The voice came from directly behind me, and I shrieked. It was an ugly shriek, and it was loud, and when I turned around indignantly, I saw Satan. That asshole. He stood watching me with an irritating expression of self-satisfaction, and in his hand, he held the damn book that started all of this in the first place.

“So you’ve decided not to kill me?”

It was a stupid thing to say, and I knew it wouldn’t do anything besides annoy him, but I was embarrassed and I wanted to wipe the smug smirk off his stupid face.

It worked.

“Don’t you ever get tired of asking such irritating questions?” he snapped. “I was going to tell you I’ve found a simple way to get out of this nightmare.” He started thumbing through the pages, which smelled strongly of green tea.

One haphazardly sketched pentagram later, we were both standing in Satan’s room. A quick glance at my D.D.D. confirmed no time had passed during our little excursion to the illusory labyrinth. Thoroughly drained, I sighed and plopped down onto the floor with a bump. Three precariously stacked books proceeded to fall and hit me on the head, one after the other, like this was some sort of Looney Tunes skit.

“Careful!” chided Satan, steadying the stack. “You’ll start an avalanche, and I don’t have the patience to deal with that today! I have a headache.”

As I stood up, he flopped down on his bed, his back facing me. I stared at him for a few long seconds, then sighed. I could no longer repress a smirk.

“Want me to get you some tea?”

This was something I wrote while I was developing Let's All Be Shadows. It's a little sillier tonally. While I'm finishing Chapter 19, I figured I'd post this here, since I realized I hadn't done that yet.

#daytaker fanfic #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me fic #obey me satan #obey me satan fic #obey me mc #satan #fanfic

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screemnch · 1 year ago

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The Pathologic Russian and English analysis: Artemy Burakh the Haruspex Part 2.

I think I've officially been classified by the world's forces as a fanfiction author because of this, for you see... The reason it took so damn long for me to get around to this is because I was trying to not get deported, avoiding homelessness and having a generally horrific time. But that is none of your concern, I suppose, so let's cut to the chase.

As the Changeling: I can’t exactly say that there are many differences between the Russian and English versions of the Haruspex here - same as outlined previously, he is laconic, distant and impulsive. In terms of tone of voice, the main difference would be the constraints of grammar in the English language. Russian is quite a versatile language and allows for people to structure sentences very… Liberally. This is what I meant when I spoke about the Bachelor speaking with a very “deliberate” sentence structure. He would construct his sentences properly, with all the nouns and verbs there need to be in a sentence, never neglecting the “I” - speaking in a very proper manner, even when using not so proper words. In English it’d be quite difficult to illustrate where the difference lies - these two languages employ vastly different sentence structures. The curt tone of voice is furthered with Burakh particularly because he doesn’t structure his sentences formally. His communication is very barebones, often foregoing the “I” in what he says, for example, since it can be indicated through the form of the verbs used. I’d previously said his manner of speech reminds me of fairy tales, and I think it’s particularly because of that - the modern way of speaking is very individualistic. It’s all about explaining yourself clearly and concisely, putting emphasis on the person. Artemy doesn’t put much emphasis on himself in his dialogue, talking about actions instead. The order in which he puts words is also distinct from more modern sentence structures, though that is a bit more difficult to explain. Y’all aren’t here for that anyway so let’s get to the screenshots. Once again, the order of dialogue here is dubious at best.

I want to bring attention to the last sentence here (partially because I don’t know how much material I’ll have for this part of the analysis, so I’m just putting in whatever I want) - the original Russian version says “Where do [someone’s] eyes have to be to mix us up…” which is where I get to talk about Russian expressions. See, the implication here is that the onlookers eyes have to be positioned on/in said onlookers rear end - because that is a common way for Russian people to express that someone is inept at something. Someone’s clumsy and can’t do anything well with their hands? They must be growing out of their ass then! Though I can’t think of any other instances in which that would be used off the top of my head, but yeah. Ass eyes.

It is. So difficult to not just start talking about Clara right here and right now, she’s my special little blorbo and there’s so much about her BUT. I will limit myself to this note (yeah, right, we’ll see). Main things to note here - Clara goes from addressing Artemy informally to then using the formal version of “you” (or, I guess, the formal version of the verb addressing him because Russian is a totally real language that exists). This is combined with the fact that the way she asks Artemy who he is is specifically worded in Russian in a way that implies scrutiny. It’s extremely difficult to explain, the difference is in only one word but the literal translation would also not convey the meaning well. But basically - she asks him who he is in a standoffish manner, realises she’s talking to the Ripper himself and immediately goes to address him formally and here’s the kicker: instead of saying “don’t hurt me”, in the original version she said “don’t upset me”(literal) to which the English equivalent would be “don’t be mean to me”. So yeah, Clara realised she just gave snark to a murderer and immediately went for the “I’m just a little girl, you wouldn’t want to hurt me right?.” Comedy gold. (Or a stark example of how girls and women have to force themselves to be more palatable in fear of violence from men. You decide).

The focus here is on the “Love will find a way. Blockhead” line (the rest is for context). The sentence before that isn’t even present in the Russian version. In fact, the original version just says something along the lines of “You’ll find her if you love her” (with the exception that with the freedom Russian allows it was expressed in just two words.) I also had a good laugh at Clara calling Artemy “blockhead” because I thought it was a bit anachronistic (it wasn’t, the word was used as early as the 1500's and I swear I’m gonna have to start using MLA format citations for this one day aaaaa) but it suited the translation well, as the original insult that Clara threw at him was comparing him to a large and unformed mass of stone - a common insult for someone stupid. Just wanted to point out the fun stuff.

Entirely unrelated since I can’t be bothered to look for context for either of these, but the fact that they’re in proximity and similar to each other (while being very different in Russian) was kinda funny to me. The former being something along the lines of “So what do you need here?” and the latter meaning something like “Have you come with business?.” The second one also bears the hilarious implication that Artemy expected Clara to just… Come by on a whim, with seemingly nothing to do - either because he doesn’t think highly of her, or because there’s a precedent for people to come wandering into the Ripper’s hideout for no reason. Either way, once again - funny.

Listen, I don’t know if this is anything, and hopefully there are other Russian speakers who can tell me if I’m being a little stupid here, but! I also know that a large number of pathologic fans love to talk about this silly little thing called gender. And the fun thing about Russian is that everything here is gendered as all hell. In terms of “adoption” there are two words that essentially mean “to make someone (take them in as) your son” and “to make someone (take them in as) your daughter”. And it is a very common thing for anyone to say they’ve been adopted (as a son) regardless of their gender - since so much literature is oriented on men and talks about them more than it does women, so it’s a word that comes to mind first (had to talk to my mom about this, heehoo). However in this particular instance, Clara says that Alexander took her in as his son. It’s something entirely normal to say in Russian, and I don’t think that this thing alone is enough to build off of, but since I know there are people who would add this to a pile of headcanon justifications - I’ve pointed it out to you. Because I love you. You’re welcome. (yes I’m talking about Clara again, I can’t help it if she’s just better than everyone)

This! This is what the translation should’ve said in the Bachelor route!! I know I’ve already talked about this, but now I’m even more confused - they got it right with the Changeling, what was stopping them from recycling the same translation with the Bachelor? Like, I would like to think that maybe it’s an error on the side of the website I’m using (but also hopefully not, I don’t have the time to play the games at the moment) but it’s also entirely possible that the translation team translated this phrase TWICE instead of saving time. Because people aren’t always efficient. Anyways.

This isn’t as much of a translation thing as it is maybe an “I don’t know English” thing. I was really confused when I first read it and only after comparing it to the Russian version did I understand what the second sentence was supposed to mean. As in - yeah, I can tell how you could read this in English and understand it - but it isn’t intuitive at all. And I get it - it’s pathologic and very little is actually intuitive here. But I wonder if I wasn’t the only one confused. In Russian, the sentence states “if it weren’t for me, you would’ve drowned your town in blood.” A simple little clarification, and I think an argument may be made about the difficult to understand nature of patho’s writing but… There’s a difference between a message reaching the audience with some difficulties and the message not reaching the audience at all.

Hey hey it’s time for “Burakh (and maybe other characters, we’ll see) treats Clara as more of a concept than a tangible person!” In this edition we’re gonna be focusing on the “deadly girl” turn of phrase, where the original Russian version has him call her “girl-death.” Not in a sense that she’s the death of girls, or that she is the reaper with a pink bow over its hood, rather that she is “the girl that is death”. We saw this earlier in the Bachelor’s campaign, where Artemy referred to her as “evil,” meaning the concept of evil - Burakh seems to be prone to identifying Clara through these big generalised ideas, rather than giving her concrete qualities. It’s actually pretty funny, because Clara constantly appraises him in their conversation, calling him rude, scary, and mean. They both call each other demons though, so at least there’s that. Also instead of “henchmen” Burakh refers to Dankovsky being surrounded by “squires.”

From the same conversation - the second sentence is only similar in essence. Maybe I’m making it more of a deal than it is, but there is a hint of an apology in the Russian version, which goes something like “There’s not much faith in you; you understand that yourself” (Conveying vibes here). I like the distinction between “faith” and “trust” because Russian (fortunately this time) does have different words for those two concepts. And it’s interesting to me, what with how religion oriented the Changeling campaign is, that Burakh specifically says that he doesn’t have much faith in her. Something-something themes.

Unfortunately that is about all I have in terms of specific points to bring attention to. It sucks immensely that there was so little time for IPL to work on the Changeling campaign, because not only is she super interesting, but also because (for the sake of this particular analysis) the interaction that her and Artemy have are absolutely wonderful. On one hand they have a lot of comedic potential (which I know isn’t the aim of the game, but hey, I laughed a lot reading their dialogue) and on the other hand some of their dialogue is actually quite heartfelt. In comparison to the Bachelor’s campaign, we get to see the Haruspex from a very different perspective. There’s even a little bit of that “does not get paid enough for this” energy that most people like to portray him as here. There were not that many differences in the “did you know we were dolls” dialogue between Artemy and Clara, so I didn’t get to talk about it much but I would suggest anyone to read or reread it - there is a lot of wonderful insight into both of the characters in there. Haruspex saying that he is still human specifically because he didn’t figure out the situation he is in (as opposed to Daniil, who figured out they were dolls) and that he is actively choosing to stay in this unfair predicament because he knows that finding out the truth would leave him permanently scarred? I don’t know about you, but it made me go a little bit insane. And even with Clara having the ability to understand where he’s coming from and that you’re given the option to invite Burakh to the Cathedral even after we are shown that he is completely blind to the bigger picture? That’s different from her conversation with Daniil, in which they are both on the same page about being dolls. This conversation in particular seemed so earnest to me, and if I wasn’t talking about translation differences, I would do a whole bit dedicated to that conversation. Otherwise I’m just a bit sad, since I don’t have that much to say about the Haruspex in the Changeling route.

As usual - comments, concerns, feedback is welcome. Genuinely no clue about when the next instalment of this mess of an analysis is going to be, but we are finally going to talk about Clara properly, so keep an eye out for that.

#pathologic #pathologic classic hd #мор утопия #ramblings #artemy burakh #clara saburova #we're on to 21 pages in the insanity document #madness project

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allthingsfangirl101 · 2 years ago

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Scary Secrets–Steve Harrington

I couldn't keep this a secret any longer. Not after my parents kicked me out. Steve was all I had left. If he turned me away. . . I'd have no one.

I walked into the school gym, instantly wrapping my arms around myself. I smiled when I saw him playing the game as if his life depended on it. My breath got caught in my throat when he noticed me. He sent me a smile and waved his hand. I put on a brave face and waved back. My smile fell when Billy walked up behind him.

"Your girl is pretty sexy," Billy smirked. I watched as Steve's jaw clenched and he slowly turned toward him.

"Don't even think about it."

"Harrington! Hargrove! Back to the game."

It took them a second but Steve eventually backed down. The game went on as I walked over to the bleachers. Throughout the game, Steve kept glancing at me. Sadly, so did Billy. I couldn't hear him, but every time Billy looked at me, he made a comment to Steve.

The only reason I knew it was about me was because of the way Steve's jaw clenched. And the way he started playing a little more forcefully, aimed at Billy. He got frustrated with himself more, too.

Throughout the game, I kept thinking about what Steve's reaction would be to what I had to tell him. My parents freaked out. Would he?

Would he break up with me?

The second that thought popped into my head, my chest tightened. I looked up at Steve, unable to stop the tears from streaming down my face. I looked down to see my hands shaking.

As my anxiety built, so did the feeling of wanting to run. When I couldn't take it anymore, I stood up and quickly jogged down the bleachers. I wrapped my arms around myself as I left the gym.

"Y/N?"

My breath got caught in my throat when Steve gently grabbed my arm, turning me toward him.

"You're missing your game," I whispered.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" He asked, his voice dropping. He reached up and caught a tear with his thumb.

"Nothing," I stuttered.

"Y/N, you're leaving," he sighed. Steve grabbed my hands, pulling me into his chest. "You never leave unless something's up. What's wrong?"

"I told you. . ."

"Babe," he gently cut me off. "What's wrong?"

"It's not a big deal," I stalled. "I mean, it kinda is. I'm not sure how to explain it. Or where to start. But the thing is. . . It's kinda funny. Not ha-ha funny. More like ironic funny? I guess. You might not think it's. . ."

"Y/N. . ."

"My parents kicked me out," I blurted out.

"They what?!" Steve yelled. He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Why would they do that?" He asked through his teeth.

"The thing is. . ."

"Y/N," he whispered, anger still in his voice. "What happened? Why would your parents kick you out? They can't just do that. It doesn't sound like them. Why would they randomly kick. . ."

"I'm pregnant."

Steve dropped my hands, his eyes as wide as saucers. He opened and closed his mouth, struggling to form a thought. My eyes filled with tears as I over-examined his surprised expression. I took a step back, a sob slipping out.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I know this puts you in a tough position and. . . You just got that big basketball scholarship to Indiana State and now this. . . I don't want to force you into any of this. Or force this on you but. . . I don't have many options. Especially with my parents kicking me out. But I'll land on my feet. That doesn't matter. What matters is that you take time and think about whether you want to be involved. Again, I don't want you to feel any pressure. If you want to be involved, great. If not then. . ."

"Let's go."

"Go?" I stuttered. "Go where?"

"Go get your stuff," Steve explained.

"I don't understand," I said under my breath.

"You don't think I'm going to let my favorite girl and my baby that she's carrying be homeless, do you?"

"I didn't think you'd want anything to do with us," I mumbled as I looked down and placed my hand over my stomach. I looked up when Steve gently put his hand over mine.

"I love you, Y/N," Steve said instantly. "I want everything to do with you. Both of you."

"What are your parents going to say?" I asked, looking down at our hands still over my stomach. "We're seventeen and still in high school. We can't have a baby. My parents practically disowned me. But your parents. . ."

"It doesn't matter what they say," he gently cut me off. "You and I are going to have this baby. If they want to be involved, great. But if they say one word about us not being able to handle this, they will never see our baby."

"But they're your parents," I whispered.

Steve moved his hands from my stomach to my lower back. He pulled me closer, smiling at me the entire time.

"Y/N," he whispered. "Nothing they say is going to change my mind. I want to be in our baby's life. Every step of the way. I love you and I am going to love our baby with every ounce of love I have left. We're going to have an amazing life together."

"What about your scholarship?"

"I can still take it," he shrugged. "You and the baby can move to Terre Haute with me. Or I don't have to take it. We can stay here and guilt trip our parents into competing for Best Grandparents."

"Steve," I sighed. "They're not going to. . ."

"The second they meet our baby, your parents and my parents will be begging to be involved," Steve tried to reassure. I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning my head against his chest.

"I'm sorry I kept this from you," I whispered. "I was scared. I told my mom, hoping she'd help me, but she instantly told my dad and they started yelling until they kicked me out."

"And what?" He asked. "You thought I'd respond the same?"

"I didn't know. But I was scared to find out."

Steve pulled out of our embrace and leaned down, pressing his lips to mine. I let out a small moan as we moved our lips in sync.

"I love you," he whispered. "And I will always be here for you and our baby. You and the baby will come first. Always."

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader

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codythecheshirecat · 1 year ago

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I Think I've Been Interacting With Myself Differently Lately CH 8

AO3

Cody's stubbornness reappears. He and Rex have a talk where nothing is communicated.

Bored on his lunch break, Cody taps through various files on his datapad. There are three reminders for the month, a handful of photos and videos sent to him by brothers and friends who thought he’d appreciate them (some are comedic, some are serious, and he’s kept them all whether he liked them or not because he appreciates the thought), and-

His notes from Gregor’s class. He bites the inside of his cheek– an annoying, new habit that he can’t break- and opens the file. He stares at his notes for Deadnaming. He’s memorized the words, but reads them anyway.

And then he turns his attention to the topics he has yet to continue researching– Gender Identity, Transgender, and Sexual Orientation. He’s not sure why he hasn’t researched them more. He’s had plenty of time to do so. And, honestly, these concepts aren’t foreign– Kamino hadn’t exactly prepared them for the wider galaxy in any way other than for war, but Cody has been around. He’s paid attention. He’s learned.

So he can’t really explain why it’s easier to throw himself out of a gunship during open fire than it is to search those terms again.

People who don't experience any sexual attraction for anyone often call themselves asexual.

Clearly there’s more than one definition for the term asexual, considering this is a very different usage than asexual reproduction. Why use the same term? Because there’s no sexual partner? Surely it must get confusing.

Transgender is an umbrella term for individuals whose gender identity, gender expression or behavior does not conform to that typically associated with the sex to which they were assigned at birth.

Cody can honestly say that he’s never put enough thought into his own gender to even think this might be a possibility. The Kaminoans had told them they were clones, and that was that. Nothing more to think about.

And now there are things like taxes and gender to think about, Cody thinks, rolling his eyes internally. People honestly think about this?

How much thought did Rex put into realizing he was attracted to Senator Organa? About Queen Organa? Did he think about it at all?

Actually, here’s a new thought: is Cody supposed to be thinking about that all?

Am I the odd one out?

“You look like you want to kill that thing,” Sen says, sliding into the chair beside him. “You alright?”

Cody turns the datapad off. “I’m fine,” he says. “Although, I’d appreciate a distraction.”

Her lips twitch into a grin. “Anything in particular?”

“Anything.”

She pulls a datapad from her pocket. “Alright, so we’re trying to find something to do with you for your birthday. Marsi thinks we should be sneaky about it and make it a surprise, and Fi is insistent that mini golfing is the best activity.”

“And you disagree with both of them?” cody guesses.

“Not really, they both have good points. I definitely think we should do something you’ve never done before, though. You ever been to a concert?”

Have I ever been to a concert? “I was present for a handful of celebratory events that involved music,” Cody says. “Other than that, no.”

“No, then. Well, I’ve been looking at concerts happening around your birthday here on Coruscant.”

Cody tilts his head. “Anything I’ve heard of?”

“Let’s see. Poor Man’s Poison?”

“No.”

“Lovejoy?”

Cody shakes his head.

“Hey Violet?”

“Maybe?”

“Probably not,” Sen says, eyeing the datapad. “Have you heard of Taylor Swift?”

“I don’t live under a rock, Sen,” Cody says. “I know Taylor Swift.”

“Would you go to one of her concerts?”

“I wasn’t made to deal with that crowd,” Cody says.

“What about Snail Mail?”

Cody is suddenly transported back to the Negotiator, where he’d borne witness to the tail end of a conversation about what the world would be like if they were all snails. “No snails, please.”

Sen puts her datapad on the table. “Well, that was all of them.”

Cody stares at the datapad, where ‘Ghost’ is clearly written underneath Snail Mail. “What’s Ghost?”

Sen snorts. “Ghost is my favorite band, and definitely not your speed, Cody.”

“Ghost company.”

“That’s great, and I still think it’s not your speed.” Sen shakes her head. “Trust me, you’d fit in better with the Swifties.”

“Skywalker would fit in with the Swifties,” Cody says. “I’ve made up my mind. Tell the others we’re seeing Ghost in concert.”

“It’s a terrible idea to do that.”

“Your insistence is only making me more stubborn.” Cody tilts his head. “I was supposed to be a Captain, you know. Alpha-17 was supposed to train me as a Captain. Commander happened because I didn’t take no for an answer.”

They have a stare off. Cody has two minutes until he has to clock back in for lunch. After a moment, Sen sighs.

“Alright, your funeral. I’ll tell the others it’s your deepest wish to go see Ghost in concert. You want a heads up of what their concerts are like?”

“Is it anything like the battlefield?”

“I can’t imagine that it is.”

“Then I’ll be fine,” Cody stands, tilting his head like a polite bow. “Enjoy your break, Sen.”

Rex breaks into his apartment and makes himself caf. Cody watches him, not saying a word, knowing that Rex knows he’s there and that this is an intricate ritual that they must take part in and that neither of them fully understand.

This is what it’s like having brothers, as Cody understands it.

Rex has brought with him an Orchid plant. He sets it on Cody’s counter, and Cody eyes the handwritten note attached– all he can see from this distance is Fox’s signature.

Finally, Rex situates himself on the opposite end of Cody’s couch and stares at him.

Cody deems it time to talk. “Rex.”

“Cody,” Rex says. “Fox made me bring that Orchid.”

“I figured,” Cody says. “Rex, how did you know you were interested in the Organas?”

Rex blinks at him like a fish out of water. Cody waits patiently for him to get his mind back together. “What?”

“How did you know you were interested in the Organas?” Cody repeats. “What was the thought process?”

Rex gives him a curious look. “There wasn’t a thought process.”

Well, that doesn’t make sense. “You have to have thought about it.”

“It’s more of a feeling,” Rex says. “Like when you’re on the battlefield, and you’re acting on instinct more than conscious thought.”

“You have to have thought it through.”

“Whether or not I wanted to act on it, sure. Not the attraction itself.”

Cody stares at him. “Is that not the same?”

“No,” Rex says slowly, making his thinking face. “What’s another metaphor? It’s like facial expression and verbal communication.”

“I’m not following,” Cody says, frowning hard. “How are they like attraction?”

“Cody, what’s this about?” Rex asks. He sets his cup of caf on the floor. “Is everything alright?”

Like when you’re on the battlefield, and you’re acting on instinct more than conscious thought. It’s like facial expression and verbal communication. “Do you not think about your facial expressions?”

“...Only when I might have to disguise the expressions on my face,” Rex says. “Are you saying you do?”

“I think we might be looking at the same thing from different angles,” Cody says. He bites his cheek again. “Different words, same thing. Forget about it.”

“If you’re sure,” Rex says. “Did you still want to talk about Bail and Breha..?”

“No,” Cody says. “Forget about that, too. Do you have birthday plans?”

#star wars #tcw #commander cody #writing #no order 66 #au

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astralegacy · 3 months ago

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Chapter 3: Leap of Faith

Camron spent his time waiting for Becca to take her break practicing his bowling. Frame after frame, it was all he could do to keep from looking back at the bar, at her, to check if she saw him- for better or worse. During the last frame of his game, he surprised himself with a strike and whooped in excitement before catching himself. That, he thought, was so not a good look, he thought to himself, blushing. He tried to act casual, keeping his eyes away from the bar, when he heard someone clapping behind him. “Nice way to finish a game, Camron!” Becca said earnestly. Camron’s face turned crimson as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh, you saw that? Yeah I suppose it’s the best way to finish it out,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Let’s grab a table, I’m terrible at bowling,”

“But you work at a bowling alley!” “Yeah, at the bar!” Becca playfully swatted at Camron and walked over to an empty table. The two soon settled into the usual first date conversation topics: How long have you lived here? Where did you live last? What do you do for work? And so on, and though Camron had to be vague (“I just moved here recently, actually”; “I moved from the suburbs of San Myshuno”; “I recently finished a gig helping out at the community center garden, now I make money selling my own flowers and produce for the most part,”), he enjoyed every minute of conversation, soaking up every detail of Becca’s life and personality. There was an ease of conversation he had only ever experienced with close friends and romantic partners, he had never known someone so new could feel so familiar. Maybe, he thought, this is why I’m here. Camron shook his head ever so slightly, banishing the thought. The best case scenario for his night was that this is a good first date, so why in the Watcher’s name was he thinking about destiny? He shouldn’t feel this attached to a stranger, should he? The conversation eventually turned away from icebreakers and getting to know you into deeper topics. Becca explained that she was in school to write, she had always wanted to be a writer of some sort and college just made sense, she came from a long line of University of Britechester graduates so of course she would attend as well.

They talked about hobbies, of pets they’d love to have when circumstances allowed; Camron always wanted a betta fish that he would spoil with a big aquarium, a castle of sorts for a single fish, and Becca talked about her love of cats, even though she never had one growing up. All too soon Becca’s attention wavered, her boss was waving her back to the bar. The gesture was firm, but the manager’s expression was soft and understanding. “Here, let me give you my phone number-” Becca started to say, standing. “I, uh,” Camron hesitated, “my phone doesn’t really do well with texting, it’s an older model,” he lied. Camron could see Becca’s smile waver, “but I can use SimsApp, at least when I have access to wifi” he quickly added. “Oh well hey, that works too! Here, let me put in my info, message me any time!” she said. Camron felt some tension leave his shoulders at that. She can be flexible, I guess that’s a must in my case, he thought. “Yeah I’ll message you soon! I, uh, I’ll see you around,” he said, and gave an awkward wave. Becca smiled and returned the wave, then returned to the bar with a skip in her step that Camron hoped was because she enjoyed their date as much as he did.

The next day, Camron rushed through his gardening as fast as he could manage without neglecting or damaging his plants. “I’ve got to get myself a bike,” he said to himself, practically speed-walking with arms full of flowers to sell at a local shop on the way to the community center. “Morning Camron, I’ve never seen you in such a hurry! New gig?” the shopkeeper, Kellen, asked. “Oh, uh, well not really to be honest,” Camron confessed, “I promised someone I’d talk to them this morning and well, my phone is busted so I have to go through the community center computers,” That was probably too much information, he thought to himself the moment he finished his sentence. But Kellen looked earnest in his response, “Well don’t let me keep you, but hey, we still on for that meeting you asked about? The one where we talk shop about gardening and fertilizers?” “Oh right! Yeah of course man, still the cafe at noon?” “Yep, see you then! And good luck with whoever this person is,” Darren said with a knowing smile. Is it that obvious that she’s a crush? Is that even the right word? I guess so, we’re not going steady or anything like that. And who even says ‘going steady’ anymore? This time travel must be getting to me, Camron thought as he made his way to the community center, attempting to walk as quickly as possible while still appearing casual. He was excited, he had to at least admit that much to himself. It felt like he was on the edge of something, and though he had no way of knowing whether it was good or bad, he was ready to take a leap of faith.

To Be Continued…

#accidental time traveler #camron astra #astra legacy #the sims #the sims 4

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dialovers-translations · 2 years ago

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol.13 Kino [TRACK 5 + EPILOGUE]

Original title: ボクは幸せ者 + エピローグ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 13 Kino

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Tomoaki Maeno

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: I’m Blessed

*Rustle*

“Uu…”

You call out his name.

“Where…are the Ghouls…?”

You explain that they left.

“I see…I guess they grew tired of it…or they felt satisfied? …I guess it was in my best interest not to fight back…Ugh…”

You express concern.

“I’d love to say that I’m fine but…I have to admit it does sting quite a bit…I haven’t gotten beaten up this badly…since childhood…Ever since my powers awakened…I would always get them before they got me. …More importantly…Why are you crying…Don’t tell me they hurt you as well in some way…?”

You shake your head.

“So you’re…unharmed, right? …Haah…But you’re still in pain, aren’t you…? Sorry for the wait…Let’s leave right away…We have to hurry and…get away from here…”

Kino attempts to get up but falls down again.

“...Wah…!”

You try to support him.

*Rustle*

“I’m alright so…Come on…You can’t walk on your own either, can you…? So grab onto me…”

You refuse.

“I’m not pushing myself…so please…Just hurry up! Guah…!”

Kino falls down again.

“Haah, haah…Fuck…”

You try to convince Kino that it’s fine and he doesn’t need to push himself.

“It’s not fine at all…I mean, at this rate, your health will only get worse and worse…I can’t let that happen…!”

Kino pushes himself.

“I will…save you…no matter what…! …Kuh!”

He fails to get up.

“Haah…haah…”

*Rustle*

“I’m sorry…Everything…It’s all my fault…If I had never brought you here…If only I had let you go sooner…If I hadn’t made myself the bad guy…None of this would have happened…I’m sorry…So sorry…”

You shake your head.

“I’m not wrong. I’m to blame…for everything which makes you suffer.”

You try to explain that he’s wrong.

“Eh…?”

You elaborate.

“What do you…mean…? Your condition…isn’t a result of the bad air?”

( While gently caressing my wounded body, she began to explain with a soft, weak tone. Apparently she had realized that her heart was not functioning correctly for quite some time. She first became aware of this a few days before we left for Rotigenberg, so her stay here was unrelated to her deteriorating health. )

“No way…But…You never said anything about that…Noー I guess I never gave you a chance to, huh? I was always the one venting out my frustrations on you, wasn’t I? In that case…It really is my fault that things had to come to this.”

( I couldn't help but condemn myself for everything I had done. But even so, she said: “It’s not your fault, Kino-kun. Don’t worry.” …Even now, she still smiles at me gently even though she’s at the point where even just smiling must be painful to her. )

“...I’m sorry. I’m covered in blood and dirt but…”

Kino embraces you.

*Rustle*

“This is…the only thing I can still do for you…Ugh…Ah…Haah, haah…”

You offer your blood to him.

“Suck…your blood? But why…?”

You explain.

“You’re not wrong that it might give me energy but…I’d be the only one gaining something from it, right? If you lose blood now…You might actually…die…In the past, I might have not cared about that though. I might have very well sunk my fangs into your neck, only thinking about saving my own skin…However, I won’t do that now. I mean, if I lose you, I’ll be all alone again…You won’t leave me. Right?”

*Rustle*

“So…Let’s just stay like this.”

You nod.

“Ahー You’d think I’d be used to it by now but this place really does stink. Just look at me…I can’t believe I actually dared call myself the ‘Chosen One’...Many years ago, I got beaten up in a similar fashion by the Ghouls, you see. …Back then, as I was getting punched and kicked…I wished to become strong…and eventually, said wish was fulfilled…However, I doubt that ever…helped heal the scars left behind on my heart…

Thanks to you, I have come to a realization…It was never the power that I wanted in the first place. ーー What I truly wished for, was somebody who would love me, and stay by my side. I wonder if that’s why…even though I’m here battered and bruised, aching all over…with my body covered in blood and dirt…Truly a horrendous, hopeless situation…Yet, I believe that right now, I’m the happiest I have ever been.

…You are what I yearned after forever. You are that person I wanted more than anyone. And finally my wish has come true, huh?”

You nod.

“Hey…Please call my name again? I think some blood might have gotten into my eyes…I’m having trouble opening them…But I can still hear your voice so, please? Call my name. Whenever I hear your voice, I feel at ease.”

You call his name.

“Mmh…Hehe, I can’t believe just hearing you say my name…fills me with so much joy. If only I had realized this sooner…”

The wind blows in the distance.

“...Huh? What’s happening…? There’s a blinding light…?”

You explain.

“Ahー The morning has dawned? …Sunrise at the Demon World, huh? What a lovely sight. To be able to witness this together with you…I feel blessed. But even if it’s pitch black…at a lonely place with nothing or nobody else around…As long as you’re there by my side…I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. …I hope you feel the same way.”

Track 6: Epilogue

*Tick・tock・tick・tock・tick・tock*

Kino walks up to you.

“Hey…Are you asleep? I’m hungry, you see…”

You do not respond at first.

“...Hello?”

*Rustle*

“She won’t wake up…and Yuuri is currently out of the house as well. Haah…I wonder why she has to be taking a nap now? …Hm. It’s her own fault for ignoring me and being asleep, right?”

Kino bites you as you sleep.

*Rustle*

“...Mmh…Nn…”

*Gulp gulp*

“Hah…”

*Rustle*

“Oh? You woke up…? Oh well, whatever. Keep still, okay?”

He continues drinking.

“Nn…”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

You protest.

“Huh…? You’re protesting more than usual. Are you grumpy because you just woke up? I love this reaction…makes me want to keep going…Mm…”

*Gulp gulp*

“Ah-ahー Didn’t I warn you about not moving? Look, the wound is deeper because you made a big fuss. However, I guess a little surprise attack isn’t too bad once in a while. I like how your skin is softer when you aren’t expecting it.”

You glare at him.

“Haha! You look furious! Right, I guess I was pretty mean to you, huh? Go ahead, get mad at me.”

You remain quiet.

“Huh…? You’re not going to get mad?”

You insist that you are upset.

“Right? Then why won’t you say anything?”

You ask him why he did it.

“Hahaha…! In other words, you’ll let me get away with being cruel as long as I have my ‘reasons’ for it? You really are too naive. I almost want to applaud you for it. I wonder if all people who were raised at a Church are such saints? Nah, I guess you’re just a special case.”

You repeat your question.

“I don’t. Does a Vampire need a reason to suck blood? But perhaps I would have abstained if you had been awake instead.”

You ask if he felt lonely.

“I wasn’t feeling lonely, just bored. …There’s still a bit of blood coming out. Guess the wound must be pretty deep.”

He laps up the blood.

“Mmh…”

You flinch.

“This is treatment. I won’t bite you again, geez. …You really are too kind.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“No, it’s nothing. …Nothing, really.”

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kino #diabolik lovers daylight #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Nie Huaisang hasn’t found anyone to do the body sacrifice ritual for him, and so in desperation he tries it himself. However, the ritual was not designed with a Nie cultivator in mind—something Nie Huaisang does not realize until he’s doubled over on the floor, far too close to a qi deviation, because his (admittedly tiny) saber spirit has been replaced with Wei Wuxian.

ao3

Well, that was the dumbest thing ever.

The thought so closely matched Wei Wuxian’s that he didn’t even notice that it wasn’t his own.

How could you be so stupid? Wei Wuxian tried to shout at Nie Huaisang, who was curled up gasping on the floor. The floor, which was stained with Nie Huaisang's own blood, with cuts he had made himself on himself, with the ancient body sacrifice summoning that – that –

Don’t you realize that you’d be gone? You absolute idiot! Wei Wuxian howled, even though he wasn’t actually a person right now. He didn’t know what he was, a ghost or spirit, maybe, but he was there and he was angry and Nie Huaisang’s arms were covered in blood from where he’d cut himself up in order to destroy his own soul – Nie Huaisang, the mincing sensitive little master who would complain for three weeks about having stubbed his toe! – and his robes that he had always taken such great care to keep clean and neat were a mess and he was bleeding from the nose and eyes and ears because something had gone wrong. Something had gone wrong, and Wei Wuxian hated to be grateful for it because he didn’t want to be brought back by Nie Huaisang’s death.

Not anyone’s death, really, but definitely not Nie Huaisang, who’d never hurt him or treated him badly. Even when the whole world had hated and reviled Wei Wuxian, isolating him in Yiling on the Burial Mounds, Nie Huaisang hadn’t – he’d waved jauntily to him during Phoenix Mountain, and Wei Wuxian had never doubted that if he’d somehow found his way to Qinghe, Nie Huaisang would have treated him just the same as always.

You – you –! You good-for-nothing!

“Don’t be rude,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, slowly uncurling. “Didn’t bring you back to be rude to me.”

You know what you’ve done, then? You could have died!

“Was I supposed to let someone else do it?” Nie Huaisang rubbed at his face with his sleeve, then frowned at the blood on it. “I thought about it, but I really just – couldn’t.”

So you decided to kill yourself?

“It’s like you said, Wei-xiong. I’m a good-for-nothing. I couldn’t – I can’t – I can’t fix this. So why not bring back someone who can?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t have words to express how much that was not all right with him.

Go fix yourself, he ordered. I don't care what 'this' is; I’m not talking to you until you get cleaned up.

“After all that work I did? Wei-xiong…”

Nope! You’re not dying, so you can get cleaned up before we talk, and that’s that. I still can’t believe you nearly – I don’t want it. I’ve never wanted anyone to get hurt for me.

“Wei-xiong, you’re being silly. Who said I did it for you?”

Wei Wuxian would have stared if he had eyes.

“I did it for me,” Nie Huaisang said, and finally he got up properly and staggered over to a basin to start washing himself clean. “Obviously! I'm incredibly self-absorbed. It’s about what I need from you…hey, how did you come back? I thought the ritual only worked if I died.”

It should have, Wei Wuxian agreed, unwillingly intrigued by it. I don’t know, actually. It’s strange: it should have either worked, in which case you’d be dead and I’d be possessing your body, or else not worked at all, in which case I shouldn’t be here.

“I always mess things up.”

No, really, I don’t think you messed this up? The array is perfect. There’s no reason for it not to have worked.

“These cuts won’t heal,” Nie Huaisang observed, looking at his arms. “Did I accidentally curse myself to fulfill my obligations? Ugh, why.”

As the person you were going to impose said obligations on, I’m now going to laugh at you. Hahahahaha –

“Shut up, Wei-xiong. Where are you, anyway? I don’t see any ghostly figures that might be you, and anyway, we’re in the Unclean Realm; there are ghost-repelling arrays in every stone.”

I don’t know, Wei Wuxian said, and then something else said, Ghost-repelling arrays only repel ghosts.

At first Wei Wuxian thought that it was Nie Huaisang who had said that, and he was about to ask what he meant by that, only Nie Huaisang got there first and said, “What do you mean, Wei-xiong? Are you not a ghost?”

I didn’t say that, Wei Wuxian said. That – wasn’t me.

“Who was it?”

Me.

“…Wei-xiong…?”

No, that wasn’t me. I mean, it wasn’t me that said ‘me’ just now!

Of course not, the voice said, and it was Wei Wuxian’s voice – or not-voice, anyway, whatever it was that he was using to communicate – but not Wei Wuxian speaking. It was me, of course. Master forgot to account for me in his array.

What? Wei Wuxian asked, utterly confused, but apparently that made more sense to Nie Huaisang because his knees went weak and he fell down on his ass.

“Aituan?” he gasped. “I – what – is that you?”

Yes.

Can I interrupt? Wei Wuxian asked. Who – or what – is Aituan?

“My saber!”

Your – what?!

Nie Huaisang attempted to explain. It ended up being a fairly long explanation, involving his sect’s cultivation style, saber spirits, and his own personal saber spirit, which was named Aituan, and which Nie Huaisang swore up and down did not speak prior to this.

Of course not, the voice now known as Aituan said irritably. Why would I speak? I’m a saber. We’re sensible, not like you humans – but now you’ve shoved a human spirit in with me, so what am I supposed to do? Not use his abilities as my own?

I feel like I should feel violated, Wei Wuxian said.

“When in fact you think it’s really neat?”

…yeah, basically.

Aituan huffed. Can we get back to the part where we plan a murder? he (it?) whined.

Sorry, Aituan, Wei Wuxian said. No murder.

“Uh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Actually, about that…”

I think we should kill him.

“I can’t do that!”

Dunno, I think Aituan has a point, Wei Wuxian said. We should probably just kill him.

“You’re supposed to be helping me, Wei-xiong!”

I’m helping! I’m a saber now, I can totally help you stab him.

“Not helpful!”

I like this human, Aituan declared. Good human. Proper blade on his hilt.

You mean head on my shoulders?

Whatever.

Nie Huaisang threw his hands up in annoyance. “Would either of you like to remember the part where I can’t actually fight? San-ge would beat me black and blue if I so much as picked up a pocket-knife in his presence!”

Get someone else to help, Wei Wuxian suggested pitilessly.

“I tried! You!”

Someone else.

“Like who?”

Hmm. Lan Zhan? He’s great.

“I don’t know. He’s er-ge’s brother, isn’t he? He might not believe me…” Nie hUaisang grimaced. “He hasn’t been much inclined to believe me before.”

Why doesn’t the loudmouth do the talking? Aituan suggested.

Oh, that’s a good idea! Lan Zhan was always inclined to listen to me before.

“I thought you said he hated you?”

He still listened!

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh.

Your other alternative is stabbing your enemy directly, Aituan said. If you’d like to give it a try…

“…I’ll talk to Lan Zhan.”

“I can’t believe you’re perving after my saber,” Nie Huaisang complained.

I can’t believe Lan Zhan likes me! I mean, likes me!

I can’t believe I’m still stuck here with you idiots. Can I go share bodies with Baxia instead?

Lan Wangji just looked awkward.

Some people might mistake it for looking noble and genteel, but by now they all knew: it was just him being horribly awkward.

“I have no such intentions,” he said stiffly. “Only – if it was possible for Wei Ying to exit the saber…”

Nie Huaisang grimaced, humor falling away. “I…don’t really know about that.”

Wait, wait, wait. If I can’t – if I’m stuck as a saber – I can’t – but I really want to kiss Lan Zhan! This isn’t fair! I don’t want to have to wait until I reincarnate.

You won’t reincarnate, Aituan said. You’re a saber. Unless we’re melted down or get ground down by time…

No!

“Surely there has to be some way. Aituan, stop being a part of the problem and start being a part of the solution.”

Fine. Let him possess you.

“…what.”

He just needs a human body, right? Let him possess you. Problem solved.

I can do that?

Technically, I can do that, and you can do it because I can do it. But we’d need Master’s permission.

“There are many, many, many books about why you don’t grant your saber permission to possess you. Anyway, that’s my body!”

Yeah, I guess it would be weird for you to kiss Lan Zhan, would it?

“I mean, not really? He’s very pretty. I could swing it.”

You could?

“…you could swing what,” Lan Wangji said.

“Having Wei-xiong possess me,” Nie Huaisang explained. “So that he and you can get the whole missed opportunity thing out of your system.”

Lan Wangji’s face did a few strange things.

"Assuming that it wouldn't be an issue for you, that is, it being me on the other side..."

"No," Lan Wangji said, and cleared his throat. "That would be - fine."

Ooooooh. Does Lan Zhan like you, too?

"What? No. Don't be ridiculous, Lan Zhan doesn't like me like that."

He'd be willing to kiss you.

"Physical attraction isn't the same thing," Nie Huaisang argued. "Lan Zhan, you're with me on this, right? You wouldn't be interested in -"

Lan Wangji cut him off.

A few moments later, he pulled back and said, thoughtfully, "As suspected. It is fine."

Nie Huaisang opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"...well then," he said blankly, then frowned. “Aituan, can I revoke permission for possession?”

No idea. You'd just have to trust that we'd give it back; it's a risk you'd have to take.

“…well, as illustrated, it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had. Let’s try it, and then once everyone’s a little more focused we can go do what we need to do. Sound good?”

“I really didn’t expect you to start a relationship Nie Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said to Lan Wangji, not long before the end. He sounded deeply puzzled. “I didn’t think you liked him like that.”

“Not by himself,” Lan Wangji said with a shrug. “But he’s good in company.”

“…you’re with other people too? Both of you?”

“Mm.”

Lan Xichen, knowing his younger brother’s reticent temper, especially of late, declined to ask who the other parties were. “Doesn’t that make things crowded?” he asked instead.

“…surprisingly no,” Lan Wangji said. “Not as much as you’d think.”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #wangxiansang #my fic #my fics #crowded

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midgardianweasley · 4 years ago

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The Royal Ball

Loki laufeyson x Fem!reader

Summary: There is an Asgard ball being hosted in the palace, Y/N is yet to find a date to accompany her. She’s disappointed when a certain God doesn’t ask her, however, what happens when he sees someone else getting a little too close for comfort throughout the night?

Warnings: lil bit angsty, self doubt, JEALOUS LOKI, fluffy ending

Word Count: 3.3k

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Requests are open loves <3

Y/F/N - Your Friend’s Name

It was a beautiful autumn’s day, crisp brown leaves were falling off of the large trees in the courtyard and scattering the cobbled ground. Loki and I had been wandering around for some time now, discussing everything from the books we’ve been reading to the dreams that have come to us in our sleep.

“And then this huge ghost thing was chasing me around the halls! and if that wasn’t weird enough, you popped up-”

“Ah, seeing me in your dreams are we, darling?” Loki chuckled, taking great pleasure at the fact that he had made an appearance in my subconscious, completely ignoring my distress at being chased by a supernatural being.

“Funny you should say that, right after seeing you, I woke up. The sight must’ve given me quite the scare.” I scoffed, a smile unable to stop itself from making its way onto my face, eyes meeting his, face etched with shock. With a hand to his chest, he spoke again in disbelief.

“You have truly offended me, love. I never knew you had this side to you.”

“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” I winked, nudging his side slightly with my elbow.

“Really? Can you produce illusions?”

“No.”

“Look inside other people’s heads?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Turn yourself into a snake to scare your eight year old brother?”

“I still can’t believe you did that”

“My greatest achievement yet.” He smirked, the memory never failing to amuse him.

His stories always had me in awe of his capabilities, even if it was to give his brother a long-term fear, it was still an incredible talent. Whenever he tells me of his latest adventures or tricks, I always think of how well his title fits him. God of Mischief. Maybe that’s why I liked him much more than what a best friend should, not that I'd ever admit it. Not to him anyway.

We soon found ourselves standing next to one of the windows of the hallway, the crystal clear glass giving a beautiful view of the city of Asgard. From here, you could see the Queen’s gardens, full of flowers in all different colours and types, grass cut to perfection. You could see the families in the town, walking around the different buildings, children playing. It was lovely to watch, seeing everyone enjoy the seasonal weather and the light bounce off of the windows, it was ethereal.

“I never get tired of this.” I sighed, voice only slightly above a whisper

“Tired of what, love?”

“Just, this. This view, this kingdom, it’s incredible.” I looked up at Loki, trying to see if he was seeing the same beauty that I did. He was already looking at me when I met his eyes and upon seeing the way they sparkled, I assumed he did.

“Actually, speaking of the Kingdom, I have something to tell you. There’s-”

Abruptly stopping him from continuing his sentence, voices were heard from the other end of the hallway, though we couldn’t make out the words until they came closer. We gave each other a quick look of confusion before turning to see where the commotion was coming from, hearing the quick and heavy footsteps before being able to put names to the faces.

“Loki! Y/N!” A deep voice bellowed. Was that Thor making all of that noise?

Before I could process any more information, a blur of a pastel pink dress was in my face and hands were placed on my shoulders. I smiled down at the slightly out of breath figure using me as a support stand, it was Y/F/N.

“Wow, Y/F/N, you sound much different than when I spoke to you yesterday, did you drink something funny?” I chuckled, receiving a glare from my friend and a quiet laugh from the God beside me. Thor soon appeared next to Y/F/N, hands on his hips and head thrown back as he tried to compose himself.

“My God, Y/F/N, you run fast.” He pants.

“Care to tell us why you’re both running like madmen through the palace?” Loki speaks, one eyebrow raised in curiosity and what looked a little like concern.

“We..had to..tell you..there’s a ball..next week.” Y/F/N spoke, a bit more stable now, but still in between breaths.

I felt my eyes widen, a ball? I didn’t know Asgard held balls.

“Father is opening up the palace next week to neighbouring kingdoms, in hopes to be closer with them, open Asgard up to more trade opportunities, build relationships and whatnot.” Thor explained, emitting a loud sigh to come from Loki.

“I was just about to tell her, brother. Thank you for interrupting.” He rolled his eyes, half joking, half serious. I reached up and patted his shoulder gently, a small smile on my face.

“Maybe next time Lok” He nodded in response, I didn’t get a chance to comfort him much more before I was being pulled away by Y/F/N. With a small huff of surprise, I gave Loki a glance, silently apologising for our conversation being cut short, receiving a shake of his head in reply, affirming me to not worry about it.

“So.” she begins. “We need to find you a date and a dress. I’m thinking blue. I’m wearing purple so it’s probably best to avoid that one. Hmm. let’s see..oh! I know! we could- Y/N? You listening?” I snapped my head around, not missing the sly smile that was plastered all over my friend’s face.

“Y/F/N, don’t-”

“Loki! He has to be your date. You could wear green and match! If he’s even going to wear green, I'm sure I can get Thor to find out, I assume they’ll get ready together. And black accessories! I have so many ideas.” She clapped her hands, over-excited about the opportunity to plan this evening for us. Except for one minor detail.

“That sounds great, Y/F/N, it sounds wonderful, you’re just missing something.”

“Missing something? Oh, if you mean our hair then i’ve already-”

“No, not our hair. Loki hasn’t asked me, and I doubt he will.” I spoke, the second half coming out more as a whisper, my heart dropping a little at the thought. He’d never really expressed having those kinds of feelings for me and I'd always seen him be close with different girls around the palace, he’ll probably ask one of them.

“He might ask you, you never know what’s around the corner.”

“I guess so, we’ll have to wait and see.”

And that was the last we spoke of it before she went into full planner mode again, while I continued to ponder over all of the thoughts running through my head. I mean, he could ask me, right?

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

He didn’t.

After talking about it with Y/F/N, I had a glimmer of hope that maybe I was wrong, maybe I hadn’t noticed something that she had, that Loki would approach me and ask me to be his company for the evening.

I spent the next couple of days with him, hoping he would ask me, everytime a pause would appear in conversation, maybe he was finally going to do it. And everytime, a little bit of the hope I had, had fizzled out.

I’d even considered other reasons as to why he hadn’t asked, maybe the King didn’t want him and Thor to have dates so that they could mingle with members of the other kingdoms. Of course that theory had flown right out one of the Palace’s windows when Y/F/N told me that Thor was going to be her date. I was right then, he wasn’t wanting to go with me.

I guess I understood, I’m the best friend, we’d always been that. I think a part of me just thought that maybe he, like me, wanted something a little more. Clearly, I was mistaken.

Y/F/N and I had been getting ready for a while now, our hair was styled to perfection, our dresses were on and both of us were fully accessorized. We were looking at ourselves in the mirror, doing spins and curtseys and gushing over how good the other looked.

“You look amazing tonight, Y/N, really. Loki is missing out.”

“Thank you, and I'm sure his date is beautiful.” I spoke, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress, trying to avoid the subject and the twisting knot in my stomach at the thought of him with someone else all night. “You look incredible! You were right to pick purple, it’s definitely your colour.”

“Y/N’s right, you look gorgeous.” Thor declared, leaning against the doorway sporting a black suit and a dark purple tie, the perfect match with his date’s dress. I could feel my eyes light up when seeing how happy the simple, yet effective comment had made Y/F/N. Rushing over, she engulfed Thor in a hug before leaning up slightly and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Ah and can’t forget, Y/N, you look stunning tonight.” He gestured to me, arm almost scanning me up and down.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” I laughed. “You both head off, I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure? We don’t mind waiting?” Y/F/N questioned.

“Don’t be silly. You guys go on ahead, I'll meet you there.”

With a nod and a wave, they were off. They really did look like a perfect match tonight. I continued to look at myself in the mirror, fixing any stray hairs, flattening any kinks in my dress. Realistically, I was probably trying to prolong leaving for as long as I could. I was excited, but I was turning up on my own while everyone else had someone, it was a bit nerve-wracking. I still wanted to look my best though.

“Stop trying to convince yourself that you look good, you could literally blow an army of men away by looks alone.” A voice spoke, I spun to see who was speaking, the flash of green was enough to decipher who it was.

“You look lovely tonight, darling.” He grinned, the pet name had set off butterflies in my stomach.

“Thank you. As do you.”

“Well, I did put in an effort, nice to know it’s appreciated.” He joked, a breathy laugh left my lips, entertained by his words.

“Yes, well, I'm sure plenty of others will too.”

“The eyes will never leave me, I'm sure. Unless they’re on you, then I'd be surprised if I get even so much as a glimpse in my direction. Someone is a very lucky guy tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, confused by his statement.

“Well, they get to be beside you all evening, it’s a beautiful view.” He winked.

It could’ve been you, I thought. I knew he was joking, however that didn’t stop the fire in me from igniting.

“I could say the same for you, someone is a very lucky girl.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know if she ever thinks otherwise.” Joking, again.

So he had asked someone. Albeit disappointed, I'm happy he’s happy. Though I still wish I was the girl in question, I couldn't stop him if he was interested in someone else. That wasn’t fair.

Giving him a brief nod and a tight lipped smile, I picked up the front of my dress a little bit and made my way out of the room and downstairs to the ball. I could still enjoy myself, the night is young, I've got this.

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

“It was crazy! And let me tell you, my dad was so angry with me. He didn’t let me serve Turkey again after that year.” Charlie, a guy that I had met an hour or so ago, finished his story of the Christmas horror he had, allowing me to relax for the first time that evening. Up until now, it had felt like all I’d seen was either happy couples, or stares from across the room. Usually the second and usually Loki. The same Loki who had a girl’s arm linked with his and was looking at him like he held the world in his grasp. I broke the gaze, finding it difficult to look at the pair for any longer, as I turned back to Charlie so he could have my attention again, a lazy smile was present as he took a sip of his wine.

“I don’t blame him, really, it sounds like you started a riot!” I exclaimed, sending us both into a full on belly laugh, thinking back to the story. This continued for another five or so minutes, laughter turning into a low chuckle, as if we were about to be told off for how loud we were being. Just as my hand had reached his arm to help hold me up, saving me from laughing myself into the ground, Loki and his date had made their way over.

“Enjoying ourselves, I hope?” He beamed, taking one look at me before giving his full attention to Charlie.

“Yes, yes we are, thank you. How about the two of you?”

“Ye-”

“It’s been fine, yeah, good. So, what’s your name then?” Loki interrupted, his date having no choice but to leave him to respond instead.

“I’m Charlie Fernsby.” He held his hand out, greeting Loki. A gesture that was very awkwardly not reciprocated as he let his hand fall back to his side before Loki spoke up again.

“Charlie..Charlie, now, isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“Loki!” I scolded, giving him an evil side glance, what was he doing?

“No, no it’s okay. Yeah, it can be used for girls too, but it's common for boys to have the name Charlie.” Polite as ever, he responded. A mischievous look made its way onto the God’s face. Oh no.

“So, I take it your parents wanted a girl?”

“I- I’m sorry?”

“I assume your parents wanted a girl, considering they’ve given you a girl’s name?” I rolled my eyes, this teasing was unnecessary.

“Charlie, let’s go and get a drink.” I tried to tug him away, only to be halted by another sentence leaving my best friend’s mouth.

“It was only a question, I'm sure he doesn’t mind answering, do you Carl?”

“Charlie.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said-” I tried to interject, but he was quick to stop me

“I know what I said, Y/N, but I'm speaking to him. Let him answer the question.”

Loki’s date was long gone by now, she’d left to speak to another group of people, presumably another few couples, leaving us three to have this discussion, thing, whatever you would think to call it.

“I’m just saying, maybe they would’ve preferred a daughter, seeing as they’ve very obviously made that clear.” He beamed, expecting me to join in and agree with him, I don’t find this funny. At all.

“Can you excuse us, Charlie? Loki, A word.” I pointed to the door, giving him a look implying for him not to test me.

“I’m in trouble. Wish me luck Carlos.”

“Charlie.”

“I know, that’s what I said.”

I pushed him all the way out the door, into the hallway and round the corner so as not to disturb everyone else’s evening. When I’d made sure there was no one else around, I looked up at the Asgardian, my arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, I wasn’t impressed anymore.

“So, are we out here for some hide or seek, or?”

“What the hell was that in there?!” I raised my voice slightly, his need to always make everything a joke wasn’t working this time. He had his night, his date, he didn’t need to come over and insult mine.

“What was what, darling? I was making conversation.”

“You were making fun of him.”

“No, I showed some concern about his parents choices, that’s all. Friendly advice if anything.” He looked a bit more frustrated with me now, as though he was stating the obvious and it was going over my head. I wasn’t having it this time.

“No, Loki. You weren’t and you know you weren’t. You had your date, she was fine, you were fine-”

“Well-”

“Let me finish. Everything was fine. Until you caught sight of me having a friendly conversation with another guy who wasn’t you. But guess what Lok, I’m allowed to do that! I’m an adult, I can speak with whoever I like!” My arms were all over the place now, my frustration was starting to show itself, it seems I had a bit pent up.

I saw his lips move, I heard something, but it was so quiet I couldn't make it out.

“Speak up, Loki. I can’t hear you.”

“I said, if you think he was just being friendly, you’re clearly out of your mind.”

Is he serious?

“Are you- Loki, you have no right to make a judgement on who and how and why I interact with other people. Not that it should matter to you anyway, you’ve spoken to other women before and I've never said a word or tried to stop you. Why does this matter so much?”

Silence.

“No, please, go on, tell me, enlighten me as to why this bothered you so much tonight, because trust me, I'm dying to know, truly.” I was shouting now, I just wanted answers for his behaviour, I didn’t think it would be this difficult.

His hands had made his way into his trouser pockets, eyes looking everywhere before settling on mine. He looked conflicted, I wanted to drop it when I saw his troubled gaze, but I couldn’t go back in there without an explanation.

“Ple-”

“I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, love? That I was so uncomfortable seeing some you get close with some guy that I had to embarrass him in front of you? Something I'm sure my father won’t be so impressed to hear, but there, you’ve got your confession.” His voice had gone much louder than mine, taking me by surprise, so much so that it took me a minute to process what he had said. He liked me?

He turned to leave, I assume because I hadn't said anything for a matter of minutes, but I gently grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards me. I looked up into his eyes again. I was so close that you could see the specs of different colours spotted in them, they were flawless. This view beats the Asgard view anyday.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Worried I guess. We’d never spoken of moving past friendship and I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I’m more than interested, Loki.” I grinned, my smile meeting my eyes, never leaving his.

“Not Chelsey?”

“For the love, it’s Ch-”

I couldn’t say his name, a certain pair of lips had stopped me from doing so. As they molded against mine, my hands went up to tangle themselves in his hair, his hands falling to my waist and pulling me closer, I didn’t even think that could be possible. We pulled away when we needed to catch a breath, foreheads falling against each other, smiles painted on both of our faces.

“I bet I'll be in your dreams again tonight.” He whispered.

“I bet I'll be in yours.”

“Always are, Darling. Always are.”

taglist: @horrorxweasley

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holylulusworld · 4 years ago

Text

Courting

Title: Courting

Square Filled for @spnabobingo (Round 6): Opposites attract

Ship: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester

Rating: Teen

Summary: When a tall and handsome alpha moves to town, you do something no one would expect from an omega.

Warnings: angst, pining, courting, shy reader, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, sick reader, cuddling & snuggling, fluff

Word Count: 2,1 k

A/N: I found a cute headcanon about an omega courting for her chosen alpha on @omegaversethings and turned it into a fanfiction. Thank you again. <3

Divider by @firefly-graphics

You always were a ‘classic’ omega. Meek, silent and shy. You never dared to talk to a foreign alpha let alone introduce yourself to one.

But here you are, offering the new alpha in your neighborhood a homemade cherry pie. You hope Dean, that’s the name of the alpha giving you sleepless nights, will like it.

“Hi, uh-erm,” you stammer, eyes glued to the ground. “I know how it feels to be new in town and the neighborhood. I made a cherry pie. If you don’t like it, it’s okay.” Before the alpha can say anything you push the container with the pie in his hands to run off.

“What?” puzzled Dean watches you run toward your house. His eyes dart from the pie in his hand back to you struggling to unlock your door. “She just brought me pie…awesome.”

The alpha strolls back inside his house, grinning as you baked him his favorite pie. “Love me some pie.”

Over the next week, you spied on your neighbor. You tried to talk to him again, to give him more gifts but you’re not the only unmated omega in your neighborhood.

Last week Lisa offered her help with decorating his house.

Three days ago, Cassie parade along the street, wearing a skirt leaving little to nothing to your imagination, and right now, Bela tries to hit on Dean, purring for him.

You hate omegas like them as they always get the alphas you like. Being a shy omega, plain and meek, means a disadvantage when it comes to courting for an alpha.

“Not again, Bela-“ you growl low in your throat, rummaging in a paper bag. You bought random things for your chosen alpha to impress and court for him. “This one is mine…”

“Hi,” you whimper catching the tall alpha’s scent. You can feel his intense gaze on you and the heat creeps into your cheeks. “I-I,” for a second you look up at the alpha, give him a soft smile before you place a pair of socks in his hands.

“Hi,” he says but you are halfway on your way toward your house, whimpering as you can still smell his scent linger on your clothes.

“What?” Dean stands outside of his home, looks at the socks in his hands, puzzled.

“Do you want to finish the kitchen now or not?” Sam asks, poking his head out of the door. “Dean? Is something wrong?”

“Last week she brought me a cherry pie and ran off, today it’s socks, with pie on them,” Dean huffs. “What’s going on?”

Sam starts laughing, he even holds his stomach at his brother’s puzzled expression.

“Dean,” Sam rolls his eyes at his brother’s question. “Did you really not realize you are being courted?”

“I get the pie, but why socks, Sammy? And since when do omegas court for an alpha,” Dean sniffs at the socks, growling low in his throat when he catches your scent.

“Some omegas do court for an alpha. I just never thought Y/N would do so. She seemed to be shy and meek,” Sam smirks when Dean presses the socks to his chest. “Maybe you should talk to her?”

“Why? I got pie and socks,” Dean grins. “I will just wait for her to come back. Maybe she makes me food too.”

Watching Lisa talk to the alpha again you growl low in your throat. You waited patiently for Dean to come home and now that woman is chatting him up again.

“He’s mine,” you mutter. “Get your hands off my alpha. Can you just not be all over my alpha, all of you.” your hands ball into fists when Lisa giggles and her hands grip one of the tall alpha’s biceps.

“Hi,” you shuffle from one foot to the other, offering the container with food to the tall alpha. You still don’t meet his eyes, not even when he clears his throat.

“You know, you could just talk to me, Y/N,” chewing on your lower lip you lift your head to glance at the tall alpha. You don’t know why he knows your name, but your heart began to race when he said it. “Hi, I’m Dean and I liked your pie. What did you bring me today?”

“Uh-steak and green beans. Potatoes and sauce. I-I wanted to bring you pie too, but I can only carry one container,” nervously babbling you hand Dean the food, ready to run off again.

“Why don’t we share the food?” he offers, smiling softly. “You gave me all those nice things and I would like to-“ you dash toward your house, unbeknownst Dean just wanted to invite you.

Your heart races and your head starts to spin when you slam the door shut to sink to your knees.

“He-he talked to me,” you whine, sniffing at your hand. Dean brushed his fingers over your skin, and you can still scent him.

Another day passes when you sneak toward Dean’s house. Right, when you try to knock he opens the door, offering a soft smile again.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says, and you whimper when he says your name. “The food was delicious but I would’ve liked to share it with you. Why don’t you come inside?”

“I-I got a pie for you,” looking at the container with another pie and another pair of socks on top you bite your lower lip. “I hope you’ll like it.”

You try to hand it to Dean to run away once again but he steps outside, cups your face with two fingers to force you to look up at him. “Omega, come inside,” he says, and your heart does somersaults. “I want to share the pie with you. And,” he dips his head to catch your scent, “I cooked. Thought I should invite you over.”

“Y-you cooked,” you squeak when Dean moves his hand to your neck to brush your scenting gland. “I-I don’t know if I should-“

“Come inside, omega,” he says, voice deeper now, more commanding. You immediately drop your gaze and nod silently, knowing he just used his alpha voice. “I want to get to know you better, sweetheart.”

“O-kay…”

After you had dinner with Dean, you decided to think about better gifts. You assume he tried to be friendly and pay you back for your food, but you want him to know you courted for him.

“What can I bring him next?” pinching the bridge of your nose you sigh deeply. “Maybe new socks – no, I already did twice. Underwear – too obvious. Oh, maybe a hairbrush.”

A knock brings you out of your thoughts. You slowly get up, wondering who knocks at your door on a Sunday evening.

Sighing deeply, you make your way to the door, opening it to find Dean on your doorstep.

“Hi,” you gasp when Dean offers you a book and a chocolate box. “I wanted to come over and thank you for the delicious pie and food, and I’m wearing your socks.” He points at his feet.

“A-are you-“ biting your tongue you look at the gifts in Dean’s hands. “Are you courting for me, alpha?”

“Thought you’ll never ask,” Dean grins, stepping closer to catch your scent. “Can we go out? I’d like to invite you for dinner, Y/N.”

“You are courting for me,” your heart flutters when Dean hands you the gifts. “Yes, uh-please. I’d like to go out with you, Dean.”

“How about Saturday?” he asks, demanding an answer. The alpha makes his interest known when he looks at your mating gland. “Omega?”

“Yes, I got time,” you nod eagerly, gifts pressed tightly to your chest now.

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up at six,” he says, giving you a once over before he nods to himself. “I’ll be seeing you, Y/N.”

When he turns to leave you must stop your heart from racing. You watch him waltz toward his house, giving you a little show when he purposely stops at his mailbox to raise to his full height and rolls his shoulders.

“Damn,” you bite your lower lip, squealing when he turns around to give you a wink. “He’s so tall and handsome…and cocky. Oh-God-where-did-I-get-myself-into?” you babble, walking back inside your house.

“Omega, Y/N? Did you change your mind?” Dean mutters, knocking at your door. “It’s quarter past six.”

“Hi,” you cough, barely finding the strength to hold the door open. “’m sorry but I don’t feel good.” you whine, hating you must turn Dean down. “I got a terrible cold and I’m freezing and I’m hot all the time.”

“Jesus,” Dean immediately scoops you into his arms to carry you toward your couch. He looks you all over, presses one large palm to your forehead. “You’re burning up, sweetheart. I’m gonna help you out of your sweaty clothes. You’ll have a hot bath while I get you something, okay.”

“Uh-“ you sigh, eyes fluttering close, “you can’t see me naked, Sir…” you drift into sleep, mumbling something about pancakes when you suddenly feel like you are floating on air. “Wait!”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I will prepare the bath and you can undress. I’ll just go back to my house and get something for you. ‘K?”

Humming you rest your head against Dean’s shoulder, let him carry you upstairs to look for your bedroom.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“Second room to the left,” you whine, nuzzling your face in Dean’s shoulder. “I can’t scent you.”

“You’re sick, sweetheart. Lemme just get you comfortable, Y/N,” he ushers inside your bedroom, carefully places you onto the bed before he looks for your bathroom, cursing as you almost roll off the bed. “Careful, omega. Hmm…guess I must stick around…”

Dean came back when you finally made it out of your bathtub.

You barely had the time to walk out of your bathroom when he stormed into your bedroom, blankets, pillows, and a few of his clothes tugged under one arm while he balanced a bowl of chicken soup with his other hand.

“I changed the sheets and tried to get you my clothes, blankets, and anything fluffy I could find at my place. It’s not much, though,” you purr when Dean puts everything on your bed to create a safe nest smelling like him. “Lie on the bed and I’ll help you get comfortable. I brought you chicken soup.”

“Soup? You made me soup?”

“Uh-I asked my mom how to make it,” Dean shrugs, explaining his mother always made chicken soup for him when he was a boy. “Now let me help you, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to, Dean,” you sigh, snuggling into one of his soft plaids. “Smells like you, I like it.”

“Yeah, everything smells like me,” he purrs, watching you relax on the nest he made for you. “You’ll smell like me too.” Dean hides he feels his heart swell when you rub his scent into your skin.

The primal part, his alpha purrs in delight, loves that you are covered with his clothes and scent.

“I’m so tired…”

“You need to eat something first, sweetheart,” Dean insists. He helps you sit while you claw at one of his shirts. You press the fabric to your nose, inhale his scent deeply, finally purring when he sits next to you to feed you with the soup.

“I wanna sleep, Dean,” you protest but Dean pushes the spoon carefully past your lips, smirking when you swallow the warm soup.

“Good, isn’t it?”

“Good,” you cough. “And tasty…”

“I got my stuff for the next few days. Food. Clothes. Toiletries and my phone and laptop. I can work from home and take care of you,” Dean explains, while he covers you with a warm blanket.

You are wearing one of his plaids, and he can’t help the smile creep onto his face when you snatch another from the nest to cradle it in your arms.

“I called in sick,” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Good,” Dean crawls under the covers, not missing your breath hitches in your throat when he lies behind you to bring you in his arms. “I’m gonna take care of my omega.”

“Your omega?”

“Mine,” he kisses your mating gland, purring when you tilt your head to grant him more access. “When you are healthy again, I’m gonna take you out, or make you dinner, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t think I got a chance,” you mumble. “I’m shy and meek, you are so—”

“I like you are shy and sweet,” he noses his way along your neck, breathing you in. “You smell so good, like – home.”

“Home,” you whisper happily. “You smell like safety and adventure at the same time. Musky and like a warm apple pie.”

“Did I tell you I loved your pie?” Dean licks his lips, “I love me some pie. My omega bakes the best pies in the world.”

“Your omega,” you hum, liking the sound of it…

Tags in reblog.

#Courting #spnabobingo #dean winchester #alpha!dean #alpha!dean winchester #opposite attracts #dean winchester x you #dean winchester SPN #fluff #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

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engie-ivy · 3 years ago

Text

The Ministry’s new legislation messes up Remus’ plans, but Sirius is having none of it.

(Short Wolfstar fic, maybe a bit of angst in the beginning, but overall Fluff!)

Unlawfully Wedded

The door opens and Sirius’ voice echoes through the flat. “Moony! Guess what? Your favourite brand of chocolate was on sale! Does chocolate have an expiration date? Otherwise, I hope you’re hungry, because-”

Sirius stops talking when he sees Remus, huddled in on himself on the couch, not looking up. “Moony?” He asks, worry lacing his voice.

Remus just crouches in on himself even more.

He hears Sirius put down the groceries, and then his approaching footsteps. “Moony, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Remus can feel him sitting down next to him on the couch. Not really able to speak, he just nods at the copy of The Daily Prophet lying on the table.

With a frown, Sirius picks up the paper to read the article on which it’s opened.

Ministry Passes New Legislation Making It Illegal For Lycanthropes To Marry

Effective immediately, the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has expanded its Lycanthrope Act. According to this new law, people infected with Lycanthropy will no longer be allowed access to marriage.

By sharpening the legislation, the Ministry recognizes the danger of Lycanthropes using matrimony to pose as normal families, and thereby infiltrating our Wizarding communities. The Ministry has decided it must prevent encouraging or aiding Lycanthropes in the formation of their “packs”. These packs are known to be infested with lawlessness, violence, and immorality. Moreover, the Ministry hopes to send a clear message that breeding among Lycanthropes is undesirable, as Lycanthropes might pass on their infliction to their offspring, and raise another generation of unscrupulous creatures.

When asked about the necessity of this law, Dolores Umbridge, its initiator, smiles. “Of course one may wonder. Marriages are rare among Lycanthropes. After all, who would want to marry a Werewolf? But it is also about sending a message. Marriage is for love, and creatures who are biologically incapable of feeling that emotion should be excluded from it.”

Furiously, Sirius throws the paper back on the table. “Such bullshit! Don’t they have bloody fact-checkers at The Prophet?”

“Wouldn’t have mattered if they did,” Remus says. “All literature on Lycanthropy is terribly outdated and biased anyway.”

“Moony,” Sirius says, his voice now soft. “I don’t know what to say. I can tell you that it’s all nonsense, all lies, but you already know that. And I know it doesn’t change the fact that right now, it just sucks. I’m sorry.”

Remus doesn’t reply, and they just in silence for a while.

Then, Sirius gently bumps their shoulders together. “So, ehm, I know that any such discriminatory legislation sucks, no matter the contents, but... was it something you think you maybe would’ve wanted? Someday? Getting married, I mean.”

Remus bites his lip. It’s ruined anyway, so it doesn’t matter if he knows, right? He gestures towards his jacket, hanging on the coat rack by the door.

Sirius looks at him in a silent question, and Remus gives a small nod. Sirius gets up and walks over to the rack.

Remus doesn’t dare to look, and stares down at his knees. He hears Sirius’ sharp intake of breath. A moment later, Sirius sits back down next to him, his hands clutching a small, black box. His hands are trembling as he carefully takes out a silver ring, holding it between his thumb and index finger.

The ring has a simple elegance, but at the same time a sort of captivating beauty. Just like Sirius, Remus had thought when he picked it out.

“How were you going to ask?” Sirius’s voice is unsteady.

Remus shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me,” Sirius says.

Remus hesitates.

“Please, Moony?”

“Not anything extravagant,” Remus shrugs. “I thought that maybe this weekend we could’ve gone by that deli to pick up those cheese sandwiches you like so much, and then we could’ve gone to that park at the outskirts of town, and maybe walk around the lake? We could’ve stopped at that bench overlooking the water and watch the sunset. And then I suppose I would’ve gone down on one knee, and, well... ask.”

“What would you have said?” Sirius sounds breathless now.

Remus laughs wryly. “Nothing you don’t already know.”

Sirius just looks at him, silently urging him on.

“You know I’m shite with words,” Remus eventually says. “But I suppose I would’ve wanted you to know you’re my best friend, and you somehow make everything better, and I never want to do without you anymore.” Remus runs a hand through his hair, allowing the words to come. “I always had these walls up, you know? I would’ve tried to explain that I never thought another person would be capable of making me feel this way, never thought I’d allow myself to love someone so completely and unapologetically.” He shakes his head. “But that’s not... That’s not even what amazes me most about being with you. I would’ve told you that it’s not even how happy you make me, it’s how happy I know I make you. Like, I don’t feel like a bother, I don’t feel like I should be grateful that you seem to want me around, because I know that everything you’re giving to me, I’m giving to you as well. You show it to me every day. I would’ve told you that you make me feel valued, important. That I’m not afraid to want you, to need you, as much as I do, because I know you want and need me just the same.” Remus lets out a small laugh. “Then, if you’re still with me by the end of all that, I would’ve asked you if you’ll marry me.”

“Yes,” Sirius chokes, barely audible through the lump in his throat, his cheeks glistening with tears. He scrapes his throat. “Yes, Moony. Yes, I will.”

Remus can’t help the surge of delight at hearing that three-lettered word that under other circumstances would’ve ensured his everlasting happiness. Caught up in the moment, he takes the ring as Sirius gives it to him, and slides it around Sirius’ finger, where it belongs. Both men stare at the elegant ring around Sirius’ slender finger, with blissful expressions on their faces.

Until Remus shakes himself out of it. “No, Sirius, it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s no use. We can’t.” Once again, their lives are held back by what Remus is.

Sirius makes a dismissive gesture. “Who cares what the Ministry thinks? We’ll hold a ceremony! We’ll ask one of our friends to officiate it! We’ll write vows, we’ll exchange rings, we’ll feed each other wedding cake, we’ll celebrate with all of our loved ones! Who cares if the Ministry won’t accept it? It’ll be real to us. You’ll be my husband, and I’ll be yours.”

Fierce determination is a very good look on Sirius, Remus decides. He can feel tears well up in his eyes at the intensity of his feelings for this man. “I love you,” is all he says.

“Good,” Sirius says, wiggling his finger with the ring in Remus’ direction. “Because you kind of signed up for forever now.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #lycanthropy #hurt remus lupin #wolfstar fluff

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joonie-beanie · 4 years ago

Text

The Demon Brothers + playing the Pocky Game with you

[The Undateables Reactions]

Lucifer:

Is a little confused when you appear in front of him--a thin, chocolate covered cracker sticking from your mouth

Why are you leaning in, and tilting your head up towards him? There’s a smile on your face, and a playfully innocent look in your eyes.

“Yes?” he finally asks, cocking an eyebrow. You pout, lifting a hand to momentarily remove the stick of pocky from your lips.

“It’s the Pocky Game!” you say, as if that explains everything. Lucifer fixes you with a look, and you sigh.

“The idea is that two people eat a stick of pocky together, and whoever pulls back first, loses.”

At that, Lucifer breathes in amusement. What a silly game.

“Now--,” you lift the stick back between your lips, but before you get the chance to say anything else, Lucifer’s gloved hands have cupped your cheeks.

Your eyes widen as he drags you towards him--his lips parting as the other end of the stick disappears into his mouth.

He bites the pocky only once your lips are already touching. You can feel the grin on his lips as he kisses you, and your face heats up beneath his palms.

“I believe the game is flawed,” he finally remarks once he has pulled back, gently chewing the cracker in his mouth. His eyes flash playfully as he regards your now red face. “After all, I’d much prefer to lose than win.”

“You’re an ass,” you mumble, and Lucifer chuckles.

“Would you care to try again? Losing is quite enjoyable, so I don’t mind.”

Mammon:

Barges into your room whilst you’re sitting at your desk, working on some homework.

There’s a stick of pocky held between your lips as you swivel to face him.

“Can I help you?”

“What are ya doin? Homework?” he approaches your side and leans over you--clearly having no concept of personal space. “That’s lame.”

You rolls your eyes and raise a hand--pressing your palm against his chest and nudging him back. He blinks, eyes dropping to your face as you smile.

“We could play a game instead, if you like.”

“What game?”

“All it involves is you eating this cracker with me,” you say, motioning to the chocolate pocky between your lips. “Whoever retreats first loses.”

Mammon scoffs, leaning down towards you. He grabs the non chocolate end of the pocky and guides it between his lips. He fails to realize exactly how close he is to you until he looks up and finds your face mere inches from his.

...oh fuck.

Nonetheless, he inches forward on the cracker, feeling his face heat up as you move towards him as well. He doesn’t want to admit defeat and run, but...

Noticing his internal struggle as your lips reach the point of nearly touching, you roll your eyes and press forward. Your lips connect with his in a gentle kiss.

Mammon, shocked, is the first to rear back.

“You lose,” you tell him, swiveling back to look at your homework, and Mammon stumbles over his words.

“H-Hey! That’s not fair! We need a do-over!”

Levi:

Has been eyeing the box of pocky ever since you brought it into his room.

Since he’s an otaku, he’s very aware of the Pocky Game, and how popular it had been in the human realm.

He’d always wanted to try it with someone, but...

You notice him staring and squirming out of the corner of your eye, and finally put two and two together.

Smiling, you grab the red box and pull a fresh stick of pocky out--placing it between your lips.

“Do you want to play the pocky game?” you mumble, the cracker wobbling between your lips as you speak. You turn towards him, leaning in close, and immediately Levi’s face is turning multiple shades of red.

“I-I, um--,” you see his gaze fall to your lips, and his hands fist in his lap. Of course he’s nervous.

“You can close your eyes if it helps,” you tell him sweetly. He nods, too frazzled to note that closing his eyes won’t exactly aid him in winning.

Nonetheless, Levi closes his eyes and waits. He expects to feel the thin cracker press against his lips, but instead, after a few seconds--he feels something softer, and fuller.

Curious, he peeks his eyes open, and finds that your face is directly in front of his. You’re...kissing him.

“Wha--,” he rears back, holding his hand in front of his lips as if he’s been scandalized. You giggle quietly.

“I just...couldn’t help myself, Levi. I’m sorry, I know I didn’t ask fir--”

“N-No, I...,” he steals the pocky held between your fingers and brings it between his lips. There’s a newfound look of confidence in his eyes as he looks at you, and it makes your heart flutter.

“I liked it, so...let’s play the game now.”

Satan:

Somewhat like Lucifer, Satan doesn’t understand the point of this silly human game.

It’s obviously just a ploy to kiss someone.

“Aren’t you interested in trying, at least?” you ask, a little disappointed as Satan turns his attention back to the book in his grasp.

The red box of pocky is held between your hands, and you scoot a little closer to him. You’d brought them with you as a snack to munch on while you and Satan read together, and upon recalling the pocky game, had decided to bring the idea up to Satan.

After all, it could be fun!

However, the Avatar of Wrath is expressing less interest than you’d imagined, and that’s...disappointing.

Your disappointment does not go unnoticed by your current companion.

Sighing, Satan sets his book down and turns to face you.

“You do realize that this entire game is basically a tactic to kiss someone, or to be kissed, yes?”

The demon watches as your cheeks turn a little pink, and you cradle the box of pocky a bit tighter. “....yes.”

Satan blinks, surprised. Oh.....oh.

Laughing at himself, Satan reaches forward and plucks a stick of pocky from the box in your hands. You open your mouth to question if he has had a change of heart, but he simply sticks the chocolate cracker between your lips, and then grabs your chin.

A moment later, he’s kissing you--biting off a majority of the snack.

“You don’t need a silly game to kiss me,” he tells you with a grin as he pulls back, and you lick your tingling lips. You’ll definitely remember that.

Asmo:

When you explain the game to him, he’s ecstatic.

What a cute game! Not only does he get to have a sweet little snack, but he’ll also get to kiss you!

(Oh yes, he decides the moment you explain the game that he’s going to kiss you. Any opportunity to kiss you is an opportunity he intends to take)

Sat together on Asmo’s bed, he excitedly takes a stick of pocky and places it between your lips. You giggle, thinking it cute how happy he is to be playing this game with you.

“You know, Asmo,” you mumble around the cracker as he scoots in--your knees knocking together. He lifts his hands to cup your cheeks, and you feel your skin warm.

“You’re not actually supposed to kiss me.”

“But I can, right?” he responds, grinning knowingly as his gaze shifts up from your lips to meet your eyes.

You pout, not enjoying being called out. Of course, you’re okay with him kissing you, but this is supposed to be an innocent game!

“Oh no~ Look at you pouting~ Guess that’s all the more reason to kiss it off of you!”

Holding your face steady, he parts his lips and takes in the other end of the pocky. Before long, his lips are pressed against yours, and he moans contently.

“Delicious,” he comments, pulling back after a few seconds. Without missing a beat, he reaches into the box of pocky and pulls out another stick--holding it to your lips.

“We can play a few rounds...right?”

Beel:

He has never tried pocky before, so he’s already excited the moment you offer to share some of the human world snack with him.

But when you mention that there’s a game revolving around the snack, his interest is further piqued.

He loves food, and games, so to him it’s basically a win-win!

“So, all it is--,” you start, bringing a stick of pocky between your lips. Beel watches you with rapt attention. “--is a game where two people eat a stick of the snack together, and whoever backs out first, looses.”

“So...it’s basically sharing a snack, then?” Beel questions, cocking his head to the side. He leans in towards you, hunger brewing in his gut as his eyes fall to the snack held between your lips.

“Well...I mean, I guess so, but--”

You’re cut off as Beel suddenly chomps onto the other end of the cracker. Before you can even react, he has made is way up the stick of pocky--his lips pressing flush against your own.

It takes him a moment to realize that he’s kissing you.

“Oh, I--,” he leans back, cheeks heating up shyly as he stares at you. His stomach had taken over, and he’d only been on the hunt for more food to eat...

“I’m sorry...”

“No! No, it’s fine Beel!” you reassure him, resting your hands on his knees. You flash him a bright smile. “It’s fine! I didn’t mind!”

Beel sighs in relief, and returns your smile. However, a new idea quickly occurs to him.

“Can we do it again, then? I’d like to eat all of the remaining crackers like that.”

Belphie:

Is half alseep on your bed when you tear into the small red box and start munching on the chocolate snack.

He watches you mindlessly as you bring the pocky to your lips--munching on them quietly as you scroll through your DDD.

Belphie had come over to hang out with you, but had accidentally fallen asleep while waiting for you to finish homework. Now, it seems that you’ve finally finished.

“You know,” you start with a little laugh when you notice him staring at you blearily. “This is a pretty popular snack in the human world. There’s a whole game it’s used for.”

“Mmm?” Belphie hums, urging you to continue. He presses himself into a seated position, rubbing at his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty silly. Two people eat a stick together, and whoever pulls away first loses. It’s pretty much a game to see if you’re ballsy enough to kiss someone.”

...Belphie wakes up a bit quicker at hearing that.

“Hmm~ Let’s play then.”

It takes you a moment to digest his words--a stick of already half eaten pocky dangling between your lips.

“Wha--”

Before you can finish, Belphie’s hand has found the back of your skull. Using his grip, he turns you to face him--his lips meeting yours as he eats the remaining half of the stick of pocky.

When you jump back in surprise, Belphie grins. “Looks like I won.”

“That’s not fair--you can’t just--!” you attempt to argue, your cheeks pink, but he cuts you off.

“If you think it’s not fair, then let’s just do it again.”

#let me know if you're interested in the undateables too!#it's just too long to include them in one post aldshjaskd #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmo #asmodeus #beelzebub #beel #belphie #belphegor #om!

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writingonsaturn · 3 years ago

Text

Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile.

“Come on, that was funny.”

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.”

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?”

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.”

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around.

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year.

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.”

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right.

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--”

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.”

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.”

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?”

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.”

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.”

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed.

“What do you want?”

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.”

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking.

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?”

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.”

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything.

“What is it?”

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?”

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel.

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.”

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.”

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--”

“I’d feel more assured.”

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.”

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.”

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick.

“What are you doing?”

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label.

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father.

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings?

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.”

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow.

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.”

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.”

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.”

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent?

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.”

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.”

“Really?”

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek.

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.”

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.”

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--”

“I’m not wrong.”

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?”

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.”

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.”

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.”

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.”

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?”

“I’m older than you.”

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.”

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.”

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body.

“Y/n?”

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?”

“You’re being quiet.”

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.”

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.”

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.”

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep.

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him.

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine.

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words.

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.”

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.”

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.”

“Now you’re sure?”

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.”

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.”

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.”

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.”

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine.

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up.

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously.

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare. I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently.

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me.

“Y/n, I--”

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.”

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once.

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?”

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I thought I had lost you.”

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.”

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand.

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.”

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.”

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--”

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“If anything ever happened to y--”

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--”

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?”

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage.

“Y/n?”

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him.

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?”

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares.

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?”

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.”

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--”

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--”

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.”

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?”

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.”

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?”

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.”

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?”

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.”

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.”

“I am not tired.”

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.”

“I can see it in yours too.”

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.”

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know.

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest.

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?”

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.”

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.”

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight.

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips.

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars fic

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makeste · 3 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 320: Deku vs. Class 1-A

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Kacchan was all “fuck Deku and fuck his stupid goodbye letters, I need to speak to somebody in charge.” Endeavor was all “hello, I am Somebody In Charge.” Kacchan was all “listen up asshole, you need to let us go out and collect our wayward nerd because you stupidly left him alone with All Might and that’s a fast track to disaster right there.” Endeavor was all, “[self-incriminating silence].” Rat Principal was all, “okay sure, have fun kids.” Back in the present, class 1-A was all “hi Deku” and Deku was all “I’M FINE!!!!!” and Kacchan was all “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT YOU’D SAY YOU DUMB FUCKING NERD” and so the kids all got ready to fight, because OF COURSE they’re gonna fight. Sorry guys, but yeah it’s happening.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all “what’s up Deku you look like a possessed Rorschach test, so anyway how are the new quirks coming along.” Deku is all “they’re coming along like THIS” and uses Smokescreen to try and get away. Kacchan is all “PHASE ONE COMMENCE”, and Kouda, Sero, Jirou, and Ojiro leap into the fray to shower Deku with heaps of love and violence, because this is a shounen manga and kicking someone’s ass while simultaneously proclaiming your undying admiration for them is just how it’s done in these parts. The KoudaSeroOJirou squad then passes the baton to Satou, Momo, Tokoyami, Kaminari, and Shouji, who are all “fuck this mask” and do a bunch of stuff to tear Deku’s mask off because they’re the real heroes. Shouto is all “LOOK AT THE LITTLE CRYBABY, THAT’S RIGHT, GO AHEAD AND FUCKING CRY and by the way let us share your burden please,” and once again I swear this is all very deeply moving and touching within the actual context. The chapter ends with Tsuyu being all “look at me. I’m the cliffhanger now,” and damn.

lol what

I don’t think anyone was expecting that. I mean, not that I’ve got anything against Tsuyu or anything. anyways it’s a very nice cover and I love the colors and I hope this means Tsuyu’s gonna do something badass

also, “Deku vs Class A” -- pretty much the expected title, but it’s still got me hyped nonetheless fuck yeah let’s go

IIDA ANGST

Iida Tenya really said “fuck the uniform code, we’re leaving the helmet at home today.” sorry kids, prim and proper C-3PO Comic Relief Iida has left the building. can I interest you in some Serious Iida

meanwhile Kacchan is all “sup Deku, I heard you got a few more quirks, and might I just add that you look like the Snyder Cut of Detective Pikachu”

“you look like a tarred and feathered squid” okay easy there Kacchan. I mean it’s all true of course, but still

“thank you all for coming” OH EXCUSE ME SON, WERE YOU PLANNING ON GOING SOMEWHERE. LET’S JUST SEE HOW THAT PLAYS OUT

yep and there’s Smokescreen, right on cue

okay Horikoshi, I leave it in your hands. hopefully you can come up with some more interesting combos than my dumbass predictions lol

LOL THIS ISN’T A COMBO AT ALL

“explosions solve everything” -- Horikoshi Kouhei, 2021. something something shockwave, something something handwave ta-da no more smoke. lol okay then

oh, ouch

he would know, wouldn’t he. nice application of one of your many hard-earned life lessons, Kacchan

by the way you guys, just as an experiment, I’m going to try to anticipate some of the discourse this week in the hopes of preemptively addressing it and thus saving myself some time later on lol. so here’s our first test run!

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “oh my god what a fucking hypocrite can you believe this fucking guy”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: it’s precisely because Kacchan has been in this exact situation himself that he’s able to recognize his past self in Deku now and call him out on it. just because it took him sixteen years to get it through his head that he can’t accomplish every single thing completely by himself doesn’t mean Deku has to go down that same path. so yeah, maybe it is a bit hypocritical, but if you insist that the only people qualified to call out stupid shit are people who have never done a single stupid thing in their own lives, then what you’re basically saying is that absolutely no one on earth is qualified lol. so yeah, I’d have to disagree

and one last unrelated note, I’m willing to bet the whole “you didn’t even say a word before you ran off” thing is possibly the first thing Kacchan’s said in this whole encounter that actually does stem from genuine hurt rather than his tough-love-harsh-truths strategy. I’M TAKING NOTES HERE HORIKOSHI. at this rate it’ll take twice as many chapters as DvK2 for them to hash out all the stuff between them, geez

anyway so I gotta say, so far Deku vs. Class A is looking an awful lot like a DvK3 wearing a hat, trenchcoat, and sunglasses lol

OH SHIT I TAKE IT BACK??

FUCK YEAH, YOU GO KOUDA. and I guess he ditched his mask as well! excellent

so far the strategy here seems to be “Kacchan says all the mean tough love shit while the rest of 1-A balances it out with warmth and kindness”, which actually works pretty well imo. Deku is one of those people that doesn’t usually need a Kacchan Translator anyway, but just in case, this is very efficient

mm but of course Deku is slingshotting himself away with Blackwhip. all right then, who’s up next!

FUCK YEAH

okay but seriously you guys, what is going on with Sero’s face in these last couple of chapters though, it’s really starting to unnerve me. is he trying to emulate Kacchan’s whole asymmetrical facial expressions thing?

in fact let me just quickly hit pause here because,

ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “SERO IS TOGA??!”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: no

oh snap looks like Jirou’s getting in on the action too!

poor Jirou probably spent days racking her brain trying to think of something she could bond with Deku over. is Horikoshi doing these in reverse order of the kids who have had the most interaction with him? that would explain why poor Kouda didn’t get a flashback lol

omg. well that answers that

so by my count, Satou and Hagakure are the only ones remaining in this first tier of kids who Still Appreciate Midoriya even though they’ve barely ever spoken two words to him in their lives lol. so they’ll probably be next, and then we’ll get to the next tier of kids who are pretty good friends with him but not quite besties. and then we’ll move on to the IidaRokiRaka trio, and then lastly, to the boy who is in a tier all his own

BUT FIRST, A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR

and by “sponsor” I mean the Dekuangst. just in case that wasn’t clear. indeed, many thanks to the Dekuangst for making this all possible

(ETA: okay so this whole “take me away” line seemed pretty weird to me, and sure enough it’s yet another one of those cases where only the verb is specified, and the object is left to the reader’s interpretation. so even though the translation says “take me away”, I’m pretty sure that what Deku’s actually saying is “take you away” -- as in, his loved ones will be taken away by AFO.

and that is literally the way he phrases it, though -- the verb used is “奪う” (ubau), meaning “to snatch away; to dispossess; to steal.” which, god, that hurts my whole goddamn heart though, because for him to say it like that?? not “AFO will kill you”, but “AFO will take you away from me.” he can’t have nice things anymore because of AFO. he can’t be around the people he loves because AFO will hurt them. he can’t have happiness because AFO will take it away from him. anyway so where the fuck is AFO right now, motherfucker I just want to talk.)

by the way can Ojiro just extend his tail to whatever fucking length he wants or what because it’s like twelve feet long in this panel lol

WOOO FUCK YEAH TOKOYAMI

YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!! BUT WHERE’S YOUR FLASHBACK? YOU’VE HAD A BUNCH OF INTERACTIONS WITH HIM, THAT’S NOT FAIR

okay so now Satou’s stepping in which is back to my anticipated order, so maybe Toko will finish his little moment afterward

dskfjfkk

“REMEMBER THAT TIME DEKU BORROWED SATOU’S FOOD COLORING” Horikoshi says, sweating. “AND REMEMBER THAT TIME HE, UM, SMILED IN HAGAKURE’S GENERAL DIRECTION”

actually I am curious about what Hagakure’s part will be because, you know, the whole traitor thing lol

(ETA: funny how we just skipped right over it huh. can we get a traitor reveal countdown started here? definitely getting close to that time.)

whoa lol wtf

MOMO??? THIS HAS MOMO WRITTEN ALL OVER IT DAMMIT

-- SWEET MOTHER OF FUCK

“SORRY MIDORIYA-SAN, I LEFT MY FUCKING CHILL AT HOME IN THE LOCKER NEXT TO IIDA’S HELMET” holy shit lmao

and here I thought she’d get a flashback to her time on the Baku Rescue Squad or something. but nope, no flashbacks from Momo, only terrifying sci-fi torture devices

poor Dark Shadow is such a trooper omg

“why am I the only one who has to make prolonged contact with his smelly disgusting self” taking one for the team there DS

FUCK YEAH KAMINARI NO JUTSU

THE PRICKLY BASTARD WHISPERER STRIKES AGAIN!! don’t suppose you brought any clean clothes you could sneakily force him into huh Kami

okay here we go, so now Shouji and Tokoyami are joining forces

um excuse me this is fucking awesome

wonder how he’ll break free? don’t think he’ll reveal Fa Jin until the end of the chapter, so maybe Air Force or something? idk

TOKO GETS AN EXTENDED MOMENT BECAUSE HE IS A TIER TWO PATREON REWARD LEVEL FRIEND YAY

WHY IS MOMO MAKING THIS FACE LOL YOUR THING WAS WAY WORSE

and Shouji just casually hitting him with what is easily the best comment from anyone yet. too bad Deku’s just gonna ignore it. you deserve better Shouji

KAMINARI OMFG

it only just occurred to me that Kami is currently trapped inside Dark Shadow right along with him lmao omg. realest one in the entirety of BnHA, right here. we will never forget your sacrifice

aaaaaaand Deku’s yeeting himself

do you really hate the thought of taking a bath that much my dude

oh shit the mask!!

-- oh shit the feels

o(TヘTo)

fuck. and I mean, we knew he was crying, that was a done deal. but still, to see him in this much pain is just...

and the acknowledgement that he knows they’re worried about him, but that it doesn’t change his mind one bit. this, right here, is why they have to be a bit harsh with him, you guys. because they’re up against the full, unbridled stubbornness of Midoriya fucking Izuku, and if they don’t match that stubbornness with an equal stubbornness of their own, they basically don’t stand a chance

(ETA: quick note that there is apparently another mistranslation here -- rather than saying that his friends are oblivious to the danger, what Deku is actually saying is that none of his friends have activated his Danger Sense once throughout this entire fight. which I had been wondering about, and it turns out Horikoshi actually confirmed it. so basically none of the kids bears any ill intent toward him, and there’s literal proof right there.

incidentally, as @class1akids pointed out, this also casts an interesting light on this chapter in terms of who hasn’t fought Deku yet. not to play the Hagakure Traitor Music for the billionth time you guys, but I’M JUST SAYING lol.)

anyway, but the good news is that they all seem to understand that. and the even better news is that we have reached the tier 3 friends!!

“OR ELSE” lol, great to see Shouto wielding his friendship just as aggressively as Deku once did towards him. I do love a good role reversal

p.s., ANTICIPATED DISCOURSE: “why is Shouto being so cruel to Deku can’t he see how hard this is on him”

PREEMPTIVE REBUTTAL: this is a callback to the classic “even heroes cry when they have to” Shouto line from chapter 137. Shouto is clearly following Kacchan’s lead here and going for the more ruthless approach, knowing that the gentle approach isn’t getting through to him (if anything it’s only making him more stubborn as we saw on the previous page). basically it’s his way of pointing out that even heroes are still only human, and so is Deku last time he checked

ah okay, and there Tsuyu is at last

okay real talk, I get why Tsuyu is included in the tier 3 friends, because she was one of the first people to team up with Deku going all the way back to USJ. but that said, this probably would have had more impact if their most recent interaction hadn’t been like 150 chapters ago

but anyway though it’s still a good speech. maybe not quite a cliffhanger-level speech, but a good speech nonetheless. in a way though, I’m glad to see that Horikoshi seemingly didn’t give a fuck whether he ended this on an actual cliffhanger or not for once

and that “headed toward the climax” part has me excited too, ngl. because if we really are getting to the so-called climax this soon, that makes me even more certain that there is indeed a DvK3 in the forecast. so I presume that next week (or I guess two weeks from now) will be the tier 3s along with the remaining tier 2s like Kirishima and Aoyama

and then after that, well... [orange and green banners being hoisted] [sound of screeching airhorns and vuvuzelas in the distance] [sound of All Might approaching in his car which I didn’t notice until I looked back at this page a second time whoops] THE PROPHECY WILL NOT BE DENIED

#bnha 320 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #asui tsuyu #tokoyami fumikage #kaminari denki #todoroki shouto #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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