#i’m so confidently saying their losers and that most people would have a chance with any of them

[tsumuus]

“realistically i wouldn’t be able to pull anyone in haikyuu”

be so fucking fr bc most of these boys are absolute fucking losers (apart from like oikawa and the miyas who, yk are canonically popular) and have probably never even been close to getting w a girl

like sure some characters like kageyama, kuroo, and tsukki are canonically handsome but they’re still lowkey losers lol

that being said, i am plotting 50000 different ways to make atsumu mine wbu

[inarizakis-manager]

First of all, thank you for letting me know you have a writing again! 😭✨

Second, can I please request some headcanons on how the MSBY boys would be as boyfriends, considering how professional athletes are a form of celebrity? Would they show off their s/o on social media? Do they talk a lot about their s/o during interviews?

Thanks for the support as always sweet potato 🥺 gosh, the MSBY boys!

Dating the MSBY boys and how they go about their relationship!

includes: Hinata, Bokuto, Atsumu and Sakusa.

She/her pronouns!

Hinata:

He would definitely ask you about how private you’d like your relationship to be.

If it were for him, he’d show you off to everyone always.

It is known on his social media that he has a picture of you as his lock screen

Always holds your hand when you guys are out, so fans obviously know you two are together and often see you around

If you want your relationship to be somewhat private, he’ll still occasionally bring up your name during interviews but usually to reference something you said, he won’t give out any details if you don’t want to.

Like his friends tease him for sometimes speaking in Portuguese out of nowhere and he says stuff like "sometimes when I’m sleepy I’ll start talking in Portuguese and y/n just stares at me"

If you want to keep your relationship private, he’ll only be saying stuff like: I love my gf sm 🥰

Everyone knows he’s in a happy relationship but might not know anything else.

Bokuto:

This man never shuts up about you

You are his EVERYTHING

And he makes sure everyone knows it.

He sees a chance to bring you up into a conversation, he will

He won’t give away every single detail on your relationship but by now everyone knows y how you two met, how long you’ve been together, his favourite things about you

He refers to you as his girlfriend and number 1 fan

He’s always talking about how he’s gonna marry you someday even if he hasn’t actually proposed.

The only time he’s not seen with you is when he’s in the court playing (but you’re still there in every single game)

Atsumu:

Similar to Hinata he’ll ask you how private or how public you want to be

He’ll talk about you constantly, but not so much like Hinata and Bokuto.

He is often seen walking on the streets with you

You’re probably close friends with Osamu and boy the DRAMA

Fans always make a scene when you’re seen hanging out with Osamu trying to start rumours about you two

Atsumu laughs at them publicly on his social media: "y/n obviously has great taste bcs she’s dating me, she’d never leave me for that loser"

Osamu honestly doesn’t care, he just likes to rile his brother up, so he’d tease me like: "we often get together just to complain about you 💞"

Atsumu probably gave you a necklace with his jersey number, and you’re never seen without it.

Sakusa:

Hella private guy, no negotiating

Everyone theorises he might be dating someone but no one is sure

He never answers absolutely anything about his private life

You two have been living together for the longest time and people are still convinced he’s single

Black Jackals fans think you’re someone’s friend because you’re always seen in the games, but the last thing they suspect is you dating Sakusa.

He might not look like it, but he’s hella romantic, okay? And seeing you in the crowd cheering on him, boosts his confidence.

If the public ever finds out, is because one of Sakusa’s friends (most likely Bokuto) accidentally said something like: "oh the other day, Sakusa and his gf…" and everyone is SHOCKED

Now they all begun theorising as to who could Sakusa be dating, but he’s just that good at keeping the relationship secret. He doesn’t want people sticking their nose on something so special to him.

[luv4freddie]

Coward - S.B

Sirius Black hated being a coward, but something about your presence always turned him into one. Everyone has had enough and you refuse to let him get away with it again.

Sirius x fem!reader, non house specific, mostly fluff and comedy, a spicy kiss but that’s as suggestive as it gets, yn is a bad b, drinking, 1128 words

Sirius Black was many things, depending on who you asked— a gryffindor, a “bad boy”, a blood traitor, a marauder— the list went on. But one thing Sirius vehemently denied was being a coward.

“That’s literally the opposite of being in Gryffindor. Of course I’m not!” He would argue.

And maybe he was right, in most situations.

But when it came to you— Sirius Black was as cowardly as they get, a fact his friends had not failed to notice.

“Mate, are you just gonna stare all night?” James questions, following his friends gaze to the same place it’s been since you entered the common room.

“What? I don’t know what you mean,” he says defensively, turning his head and tipping back the rest of his fire whiskey.

“He means you’re being a little coward,” Remus chimed helpfully from where he leaned against one of the walls.

“I’m not a coward!”

“Why’s Siri being a coward now?”

Your voice rings sweetly in his ears, and Sirius’s face lights up despite the fact that you’d just insulted him.

“Hi.”

You look at him in confusion, “hi?”

He says nothing else, just refilling his cup, and you look at his friends in confusion, only to see the same look reflected on James and Remus.

They teased him a lot about you, but they knew Sirius was good with girls; they figured he just hadn’t had the chance to woo you.

But seeing the painful interaction between the two of you they now realized they were wrong.

Your mere presence turned notorious ladies man Sirius Black into a full fledged loser in love.

“Refill?” Sirius asked, gesturing to the cup in your hand.

“Sure.”

He sets his drink down on the table and refills your cup, turning around to return the alcohol to its spot on the table before stopping and looking at the two plastic cups.

“Uh,” he looks around, hoping no one has noticed, but you’re already smirking at him.

“Forget which one was which?”

“Maybe.” He sounds dejected, and you grin, grabbing the drink you know is yours. “Are you sure that’s the right one?”

You laugh, “why, are you scared of cooties?”

“We’ll no but I-”

“Relax, Sirius, if we’re swapping spit it’s not gonna be like this.”

He blanches at your comment, but the wink you throw him as you disappear back into the crowd immediately restores color to his face.

James laughs hysterically, watching his friend gasp like a fish out of water, and even Sirius’s glare can’t make him stop.

“Dude. You’re such a loser.”

“Shut it, Prongs.”

Two hours later and Sirius has finally recovered, the liquid courage flowing through his veins as he winks to intimidated third years standing in the corner or Hufflepuffs who have made their way into the party.

“Truth or dare time!!” James bellows, and the huge crowd quickly forms into a circle.

“Lily flower, truth or dare,” he starts.

She chooses truth, knowing better than to get dared to go on a date with him.

She ends up answering that no, she does not have an unexplainable hatred for people with curly hair, just him.

She asks Marlene next, who ends up trading shirts with Peter, and Peter chooses Sirius.

“Dare. I’m no coward.” He drawls confidently, and a few of the third years look like they might just faint.

All three of his friends smirk at this, having been expecting it after riling him up about it for so long.

“Fine. Kiss the prettiest person in the room.”

‘Ooooo’s ring out from everyone in the circle, and Sirius steels his face as he crosses the circle.

The third years frown, but you grin as Sirius approaches you.

“Yn?”

“Yes Siri?” You look up at him through your eyelashes.

“Can you scoot over please?”

You try to cover your shock, moving a step to the left as he swaggers past you and straight up to— a mirror.

The boys’ groans echo throughout the room as he places a smooch on the glass and strides back to his place in the circle.

“Coward,” comes a cough from his right, and Sirius’ eyes shoot daggers at James.

“Coward,” your cough echoes his best mates.

“Coward,” Remus and Peter let out suspicious sounding coughs at the same time.

When Lily joins in, not knowing why but just liking to rile the Marauders up at any given chance, he finally breaks.

“Merlin’s bloody ballsack,” he huffs, grabbing your forearm and marching you out of the portrait hole.

He lets go of you once you’re in the silent hallway, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Why did you do that?”

You laugh.

“I didn’t even start it! Why didn’t you drag James out here? Or one of your other best friends?”

He glared at you.

“Because you’re different!”

“And why’s that?” You challenge, stepping closer to him and looking defiantly in his eyes. “Why am I different?”

You knew Sirius acted different around you. You recognized the way he would blunder over his words or drop his quill when you approached him.

It was the same way you’d acted around him in fourth year, when you’d had a helpless crush on him and he was too busy enjoying his newfound charisma to “settle down” with just one girl.

Since then, you’d grown up. You grew in confidence (and a few other areas) and now you were sure Sirius was interested in you, even if he was too much of a coward to do something about it.

“You don’t even know!” He shouts, although you both know that’s not what he meant to say.

But you weren’t going to let him off that easy.

“Oh I know plenty, Siri.” Your face is getting closer now, and his breath catches in is throat. “If you weren’t a coward, nothing would have stopped you from kissing me in there.”

You know you’ve won before he moves, but soon his hands are on each side of your face and his lips are pressed into yours.

You let him push you against the wall, tangling your hands in his hair as you kiss him back.

He looks pained when he has to pull away to gasp out a breath, but he grins when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Your teases are shushed as he kisses you again, before dragging you back into the common room.

“Call me a coward again, pricks,” he yells as he stands on a table and dips you low to kiss you like a bride on her wedding day.

His friends cheer, and you can’t help but laugh once you’re fully upright again.

Sirius was many things— your boyfriend now one of them.

[sserpente]

A/N: I know there’s been so much Billy lately. I’m so obsessed with him though, it’s crazy, haha! Have fun!

Words: 1403 Warnings: mentions of racism

The local fun fair was a highlight of Hawkins’ boring small-town life, you had learned this much when Steve had called and asked you to join him, Nancy and the kids for a fun evening out.

You were having the full experience—silly music blaring from speakers high up on the lampposts, candy floss, roasted almonds, rigged games and fun rides… it was a lovely break from all the work you had been doing the past couple of weeks. Building a career in a small town wasn’t all too easy, after all.

Everyone here was lovely all the time. Well, maybe except…

“Having fun, Maxine?” Speak of the devil.

Max froze. As if someone had flipped a switch, her confident and careless demeanour was gone and she transformed into a little girl terrified of her step-brother. You narrowed your eyes at Billy.

He leaned against the lamppost as if he had all the time in the world, muscles bulging. His friends loomed around him like little minions.

“I’m not late…” Max claimed. “You said nine p.m.”

“For once you’re not, shitbird. I’m early. What? Can’t I enjoy myself too?”

Billy’s eyes locked with yours. You’d moved here shortly after Billy and Max themselves had and needless to say, Billy had not been happy to find out you were immune to his charms. Truth be told, you were just really good at hiding it.

You were not dumb—you knew he knew exactly what to tell women to lure them in, how to behave and what to do. You’d watched him once. He had the skill to talk about sex without talking about sex and it had gotten you riled up enough for you to race home, lock yourself in and masturbate for the rest of the afternoon.

Billy Hargrove would remain just that for you—a fantasy, for you were certain that becoming another notch in his belt would only lead to heartbreak and a bad reputation. You didn’t just spread your legs for anyone. The guy had to earn it, properly.

Until then, you would—much to the others’ dismay—remain friends. You’d been in school together, after all, and you made a habit of getting along with people. What had really fused you together though was when you had witnessed Billy getting punched square across the face by his own dad. You’d known that there was more to his arrogant and entitled demeanour than he let on.

Behind you, Lucas shifted on the spot. None of them had forgotten the undoubtedly racist comments Billy had made, not to mention this one time he almost beat him up had Steve not interfered.

“Come on, man, just leave them be. I can take her home too later,” Steve said just at that moment. Billy scoffed.

“You’re not taking her home, that little shit is my responsibility. Don’t be late,” he added, turning to Max who only nodded without another word. You thought the situation was successfully averted but Billy had other plans, for when you started strolling through the stalls, he and his friends followed right after, always a little too close for their liking. Lucas was, understandably, the most nervous. You sighed. You’d put an end to this. Last time, when Steve fended him off, it didn’t end well. Time to take action.

You walked over to him, watching with reluctant attraction how he lit himself a cigarette and eyed you up and down like prey as you approached him at the basketball stall. Before you could even say a word, he spoke up.

“Why are you hanging out with these losers?” Your name left his lips almost seductively.

You tilted your head at him—slowly, to give him a chance to take that back even though you were certain he wouldn’t.

“What are you doing, Billy?”

“What am I doing? I’m having fun. You should try it sometime,” he said, feigning innocence.

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around him to greet him properly. He reciprocated it more heartily than you would have expected and held you close just for a second too long.

“You could give Max a break though, you know. Let her have fun for one evening as well. Why are you following her around now?”

“Because whether she likes it or not, we’re family now and I have to look out for her, alright?”

You sighed. “Did your dad tell you to…?”

Billy glared at you and you shut your mouth. “I told you to stay out of this.”

“Guys? Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll stick with Billy for a while.” You could tell they all disapproved, Steve the most. They clearly weren’t fond of the idea of you being friends with Billy. And sometimes, you weren’t either. He was like a ticking time bomb, always on the verge of lashing out. He was dangerous—and that made him even sexier.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked.

“I won’t kidnap her, King Steve, don’t worry,” Billy mocked. Steve rolled his eyes, gave you one last nod and off they went. You could practically feel Lucas’ relief. You still had a lot of work to do when it came to convincing Billy that disliking someone because of their skin colour was fundamentally wrong but you were making progress—slow progress.

“What do you say, boys? All five wins the big prize,” the stall owner announced with a sly grin, pointing at the massive plush toys hanging from hooks on the wooden ceiling of the stand. Given that the metal circles the basketballs here were supposed to be tossed through were rotating, it seemed highly unlikely anyone had managed to win before. You weren’t surprised. Most of the games here were rigged.

“That’s it?” Billy asked, unimpressed. The stall owner blinked all the while Billy pulled out a crumpled five-dollar bill from his jeans pocket and practically slammed it on the counter before grabbing the first basketball.

“Which one do you want?”

Your eyes widened. “What, me?”

“Yes, you, doll. What use do I have for a giant bear?”

You pressed your lips together to a thin line, suppressing the comment dancing on the tip of your tongue. Billy gave you a taunting look. “Don’t you dare make a stupid remark.”

“Aw, why not, they’re so fun!”

He purred your name darkly and almost… threateningly. Something inside you stirred and clenched. It almost felt like it was travelling right between your legs. Damn him.

“The black one,” you said then, pointing at a dark bear with white eyes. Billy followed your gaze, finished his cigarette and got to work. He scored one basket, two baskets, three baskets… his friends kept cheering him on.

You weren’t surprised—he’d had a basketball scholarship before moving to Hawkins, after all. He was skilled… and he was not too humble to show it.

Four baskets… five. The stall owner started clapping. “You actually did it, young man! The black one, yes?”

You grinned from ear to ear when he handed it to you and Billy nodded triumphantly.

“Let’s go, guys. I need a beer…” Billy’s friends cheered once more and yet, Billy did not move an inch. His blue eyes locked with yours and for just a split second, you felt yourself unable to move as he approached and leaned down to you seductively.

“Do I get something in return for your new friend?” he asked. His hand sneaked around your waist, pulling you close as you finally started walking, a few feet behind his bickering friends. The massive teddy bear almost covered you whole.

You smiled up at him, shaking your head slightly before standing on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Billy. See, you can be sweet after all.”

And if you could be certain he wasn’t just trying to woo you…

Billy snorted, smiling mischievously. “And what do I need to do to earn a proper kiss?”

You glanced up at the Ferris Wheel—he followed your gaze, then looked you in the eyes again, smirking.

“Let’s go then.”

“What about your beer?”

Billy paused for a moment, pretending to ponder with his index finger tapping against his chin. “Hmm… an overpriced beer at the fun fair or a kiss from a beautiful girl… that’s a hard decision to make.”

“You’re so cocksure, aren’t you?”

“But it’s working.”

You sighed. Yeah. Unfortunately, it was.

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

[caffedrine]

Gilbert von Obsidian - Challenge From the King of Trampling - Event Summary

Do I ever know what I’m doing? You shouldn’t trust me, or my suspect understanding of what’s going on in my daily life, much less in Gilbert’s world.

Accuracy is not guaranteed - you should definitely pick up this event when it reaches the English server.

This event is set in the event series that predates Gilbert's route - where he and Emma will never be anything more than friends.

Prologue

The afternoon is very lovely, with a peaceful blue sky, bright sunshine, and the promise of a peaceful day. Emma wishes this moment would last forever.

Sitting next to her, munching on a small pile of cookies on the table, Gilbert asks if Emma would like to play a game with him, trampling on that peaceful moment like the villain he is. Emma asks why he suddenly wants to play, and Gilbert glibly replies that it’s just his current mood.

Emma is only here because Gilbert had told her to make a lot of sweets for him, but maybe his real purpose wasn’t just to eat a small army’s worth of cookie rations but to play a game instead. And tide himself over with the cookies. Gilbert is very skilled at manipulating people into doing what he wants.

Gilbert continues, it would be boring just having a game with no reward. Oh, but if they made it a winning condition that the loser would have to do anything the winner wants . . .

Sensing a trap, Emma quickly refuses. Gilbert laughs, does she think she can say no? Emma asks him to cut to the chase and tell her what he wants her to do. She already knows that she’ll lose.

Well not necessarily. Gilbert is thinking up games where she has a good shot at winning as well. In fact, he already has a plan. Placing his cloak over the table, Gilbert snaps his fingers and pulls back the cloak to reveal a box. Warily, Emma opens it only to find some sheets of paper, pens, and ink.

Gilbert’s idea is for both he and Emma to put their own game ideas into the box. Two ideas each, and then they’ll blindly draw. And, to make it fair, they will have the winner be the best two out of three.

Emma realizes that Gilbert is allowing her to write a game that favors her. Maybe she does have a chance of winning. She turns to Gilbert and asks if when he said the loser would have to do anything the winner wanted . . .

(For once, Gilbert can make Emma sweets instead!)

Gilbert promises that it goes for him as well, if Emma wins, she can ask him to do anything. It’s a high-risk, high-reward game. And, as a handicap, Gilbert is okay with Emma asking for help during the game.

Emma points out that it would put Gilbert at a great disadvantage. Gilbert laughs and asks if she’s serious. He’s the Marshall of Eternal Victory, he’s never lost a match or game.

While Gilbert gloats, Emma considers it. She already is forced to follow his whims, so this might be her only chance to get payback. Even though it’s risky, Emma decides to accept Gilbert’s match.

The peaceful time is ended, and Emma’s battle with the Trampling Beast has begun.

Gilbert only smiles at her; he’s looking forward to having fun together.

Round 1 – The Affectionate Confrontation of Sweets

The first match was a game Emma had put in, and she does not doubt that she will win. The stage is the kitchen, filled with all the ingredients the castle cooks were able to spare. The game is to make as many sweets as possible with the ingredients on hand and feed them to Gilbert. If he eats everything, he will win. If Emma can make enough sweets that even Gilbert has had too many, she wins.

Sitting in the kitchen at a nearby table, Gilbert admits that he is looking forward to this game. He wonders what kind of sweets will be made for him. He and his stomach are looking forward to this challenge. He seems confident, which only invigorates Emma’s fighting spirit.

Behind Emma are her three reliable helpers: Yves, Licht, and Luke. She had chosen the people most familiar with sweets to face Gilbert in this challenge.

(Team Sweets)

Proud as a peacock, Yves admits that since Emma seems a little over her head, he’s here to help. Luke’s role was to bring the honey, which he has 5 liters that he’s willing to share. Licht isn’t entirely sure why he’s here. Yves assures him that his presence is essential – he needs to finish up whatever Gilbert doesn’t eat.

Please, Licht, your big brother is counting on you.

Emma thanks all of them for coming and helping her win against Gilbert. With Yves and Luke, who are good at making sweets, and Licht tasting them for quality, there’s no doubt that she will win. Licht asks if she’s decided on what to make.

The plan is to make something very high in calories, that will fill up the stomach quickly. Luke thinks that honey would be put to good use, and Yves suggests a classic cake with cream and honey. Luke notes that with this plan, Gilbert will have to give up eating due to how sweet it’s going to be, not to even mention the calories. Surveying her supplies, Emma thinks that they have enough to make 50 servings.

Licht is taken aback and asks if Emma has some grudge against Gilbert or something. Pipping in, Gilbert corrects him, it’s not a grudge, it’s love. Emma ignores him and begins putting ingredients into a bowl. Luke is about to say something, but Gilbert interrupts him, giving him the universal ‘secret’ sign. Emma asks what that was about, and Luke tells her that it’s nothing.

Continuing, Emma tries to silence her bad feeling, wondering if she’s just overthinking it.

A few hours later.

Emma wonders if this is all just an elaborate lie. Yves wonders if his eyes are deceiving him. Licht wonders if all this time, Gilbert was secretly a monster. Luke wonders where Gilbert put all of it.

(In his fifth dessert stomach)

A giant cake, filled with cream and honey, large enough to serve fifty people, was now all inside Gilbert’s stomach. Smiling sweetly at them, Gilbert compliments the cooks and asks if they have any more.

Emma recalls Gilbert happily munching on the cookies before the match. He should have already been more than half full. How did this happen? Wailing in despair, Emma collapses to her knees in the kitchen.

Gilbert admits that he’s about 80% full now. But he wants the other 20% to be full too. His only complaint was that the cake was too sweet – it gave him mild heartburn. To be fair, he half expected it from Emma and her friends. He admits that the four of them (including Licht, somehow) are amazing chefs.

Yves is in a weird state of being pleased with praise, and not happy with being praised. Luke admits that he had the feeling that this was going to happen anyways.  He points out that if they were serious, they could have just made really foul-tasting sweets.

Oh. Oh yeah. That probably would have won them their victory.

As if thinking the same thing, Gilbert’s shoulders shake with poorly repressed mirth. He tells Luke that Emma is still Emma, she wouldn’t do that to an honored state guest. Honestly, he likes that about her.

Well, at least one person seems happy, even if it’s not the person Emma wanted to be thrilled by this. At least he’s praising them for all of their hard work.

Standing up, Gilbert walks over to where Emma has collapsed and kneels in front of her. Emma looks up, awkwardly noticing that his face is so close. Very politely, Gilbert thanks Emma for the meal and kisses her cheek, and suddenly Emma’s thoughts screech to a halt. He smiles as if enjoying her reaction.

Yves cuts in, asking them to stop being so shameless in the middle of the kitchen. Gilbert asks what he means by ‘shameless’, his fingers running over Emma’s lips. Suddenly, Emma realizes that she’s in danger.

Emma jumps up and hides behind Luke, announcing that it’s time for the next match. She definitely won’t lose it. Gilbert has an exaggerated expression of regret but shrugs his shoulders in acquiescence. He wonders what the next game will be.

Current Score: 0 wins and 1 loss.

Round 2 – The Honey Trap and the Jewelry Showdown

The second match was a game invented by Gilbert.

Gilbert explains that Obsidian is the land of military and ore, and there is a ‘fun’ game they can use stones to play with. He pulls out a pouch from the inside of his cloak (which Emma was certain hadn’t been there a second ago) and hands it to her. In the bag are two rocks, and one gemstone. Emma has 30 minutes to guess which one is the gemstone. Gilbert will just wait right here in this room, in this chair (digesting) for her to come back with her answer.

To be honest, Emma isn’t confident in her ability to appraise gems or jewels, but if she has someone to help her, then maybe she has a chance. The palace is full of princes, there has to be at least one of them familiar with jewels.

Right?

The only two princes she can find are Nokto and Jin, the battle-hardened womanizers of the palace. Emma hopes that, with their experience of picking jewelry as gifts for women, they can help her. At the very least, they’ve seen more gemstones than she has.

Jin admits that he’s seen his fair share of gems and knows a lot . . . . he looks into the bag and asks if Emma is serious. Nokto looks as well, his face looking grim.

The gem in the bag is unprocessed, it looks just like the other two stones. A true merchant or jeweler could recognize the true gem, but it becomes quickly apparent that the moniker does not apply to any of the three of them.

Nokto notes that probably only Silvio or Chevalier would be able to tell which one was the true gem. Jin recalls that Silvio has left the castle on business, and as for Chevalier . . . Nokto finishes the thought, noting that he won’t help them. Jin wonders if maybe Chevalier’s big brother can convince him to embrace the spirit of cooperativity, but Nokto points out that if anyone could do it, they can’t do it in the next 30 minutes.

Well, there’s no help for it. Emma will just have to rely on blind luck. Gilbert probably put this game in, knowing exactly that she would have no help.  

Oh, no, no, no, that won’t do. Who does Emma think they are, amateurs? Nokto adds that if she came to them for help, she already knew that a straightforward attack against Gilbert wouldn’t work.

Uh, no, Emma just came to them because there was no one else available, she was absolutely planning on a straightforward attack.

Jin places his hand on Emma’s left shoulder, and Nokto places his hand on her right. Jin tells her to leave it to him, he’ll teach her a very special technique. Nokto will also cooperate, though he expects something in return.

Emma has a very bad feeling.

After most of the time is over, Emma returns to Gilbert, who had been leisurely looking out the window. Turning to face her, he idly greets Emma, only to come up short when he sees her face. Looking absolutely dumbfounded, he asks what happened.

(Of all the plans and eventualities Gilbert anticipated, this was not one of them)

Emma is not going to tell him. She’s not going to tell anyone what happened. Why, oh why did Jin and Nokto have to go that far? Maybe she should just quit right now before it becomes worse.

Oh, right. If she loses, it’ll be worse.  

Throwing all the shreds that remained of her dignity to the wind, Emma walks over to Gilbert and sits down in his lap, wrapping her arms around him tightly. It’s actually a blessing in disguise that he’s so cold, it’s almost a balm against her too-hot skin.

Gilbert asks what Emma thinks she’s doing.

(Seriously, Gilbert wants to know what's going on)

Her face blazing red, Emma is barely able to look into Gilbert’s eye as she croaks out that she wants a hint.

Gilbert eventually recovers enough to ask if this is some sort of honey trap. If so, Emma is really . . . he can’t say anymore without laughing.

Emma shouts at him to stop laughing, she’s desperate. Maybe she should have just given up and accepted the loss. But she’s already here, in Gilbert’s lap, wrapped around him. It’s far too late for her to back down. Instead, she clutches him tighter and shouts that she’ll never let go of him until he gives her a hint.

Gilbert considers this for about half a second before telling her that it’s okay with him if they stay like this forever. Not expecting this, Emma looks at him as if he has grown two heads. If they stay like this forever, Emma will be in big trouble!

And Gilbert doesn’t see how that’s his problem. In fact, he’s thrilled that she’s doing this of her own accord. To Emma’s horror, instead of her gambit working, Gilbert wraps his own arms around her, gently stroking her back.

As Emma’s discomfort grows, Gilbert just grins at her. The only way to avoid looking at him in her position is to bury her head in his shoulder. Gilbert tells her that if she wants to continue, she could at least kiss him.

Well, that is impossible. Emma will only kiss someone whom she likes. Gilbert asks if she doesn’t like him, but Emma is only silent. Gilbert complains that Emma is so sneaky.

Well, if Emma likes anyone, it wouldn’t be someone who makes fun of her. Gilbert asks if that means that she likes kind people, and Emma admits that she likes kind people more than mean ones.

Gilbert considers this slowly and eventually tells Emma to hand him the pouch. Curiously, Emma complies, and Gilbert lines up the three stones on the table next to them. He tells her that the stone on the left is worthless. When Emma just looks confused, Gilbert explains that her choices are either the middle stone or the right stone.

Emma is still confused, so Gilbert explains that she just said that she prefers kind people. So, this is a special service just for her.

Emma doesn’t understand Gilbert. She wonders if he’s teasing her, and she slowly faces the stones. Right now her odds of winning are 50/50, so she has to believe in herself.

Emma chooses the stone on the right, and Gilbert’s eye narrows. He admits that she got the correct answer, and Emma cheers, thrilled that she has won. She’s so happy and relieved that she has forgotten that she’s sitting in the lap of the Trampling Beast.

Gilbert notes that she has lost a lot to gain this victory, and Emma asks him not to say that. Suddenly remembering where she is, and whom she is on top of, Emma starts to get up, only to be restrained by Gilbert.

He warns Emma not to do this to another man unless she wants to find their corpse later. Emma tells him not to worry, she’s never going to do this again, not even to Gilbert.

Gilbert makes a disappointed face as Emma slides off his lap. Whether or not it’s a joke expression, Emma feels her heart pound in her chest. This is nothing, it’s just embarrassment.

To cover her feelings, Emma announces that the next round is the last, the deciding round.

Current Score: 1 win and 1 loss.

Round 3 – If You’re Embarrassed You’ll Lose! Hide-And-Seek Showdown!

The third game was a match Emma had devised.

It’s a simple hide-and-seek showdown. Emma hides, and if Gilbert finds her within the time limit, he’ll win. If he can’t find her and Emma escapes him, she’ll win.

Gilbert is overjoyed to play this game, he’s very good at hide-and-seek. Finding and killing hidden pests is not only his hobby but the favorite part of his job.

Emma asks him to refrain from killing her.

It’s dangerous, but Emma was always good at hide-and-seek since she was a child. Besides, there’s a secret spot in the castle that she’s confident Gilbert doesn’t know about. She is certain that she’ll be victorious, as long as she’s careful.

Behind her are her two reliable allies, who came to help her when she explained her predicament. Clavis, the royal hide-and-seek master promises to guide her to victory. Meanwhile, Leon has agreed to his role of referee where he watches Gilbert to prevent him from doing anything illegal or immoral during the game, so Emma can be free to hide. Gilbert asks if Emma really doesn’t trust him.

Ignoring his comment, Emma starts the game. Gilbert wishes her the best of luck.

Clavis is impressed, even he never knew that there was a secret room only accessible via a hidden passageway. It was a room Emma and Rio had found by chance while exploring the castle, and she hopes that if one of the residents, particularly Clavis, didn’t know about it, then maybe Gilbert won’t either. It’s no exaggeration to say that this room is perfect for a game of hide-and-seek.

Clavis reminds her that Gilbert is on a different level, he will probably find this room without much trouble. Emma admits that he’s right, and she’s already considered it. Gilbert is the Marshall of Eternal Victory, a genius who makes the impossible possible. With that in mind, finding a secret passageway and locating this room is well within his abilities.

Which is why Emma made sure to have Clavis on her side.

It suddenly hit Clavis what Emma’s true plan is, and they both have evil expressions on their faces. Emma tells him that she will stop at nothing and do anything to win this game. Clavis approves of this, and if she’s like this then it’s time for him to get serious as well.

As expected, Gilbert found the room. From behind, Leon very calmly and without any anger asks Gilbert how he already knows about the hidden passages in the palace. Gilbert doesn’t feel like answering, besides, if Leon uses his brain just a little bit, he’d already know.

Yeah, there’s obviously a spy in the castle who has rooted out the secret passages.

Looking around the room, Gilbert notices that Clavis appears to be the only person in it. So far, he hasn’t noticed Emma hiding behind the bookcase.

Emma holds her breath, the real battle starts now.

Clavis asks if something is wrong? Why doesn’t Gilbert come on in and look around a bit. Leon agrees, the hide-and-seek game isn’t over until he’s found Emma, right? Silently, Emma urges Gilbert to just take a single step inside.

There are about 20 of the Lelouch series traps set at the entrance of the room. If Gilbert enters, he will be in hell. Not even he can avoid the trap Clavis set up.

Gilbert announces that he’s happy where he is, he’ll just wait for Emma to come out to him. Leon reminds him that there is a time limit, but Gilbert only laughs; Emma will definitely come out before then.

Clavis asks how he can say that, and Gilbert responds that Emma is actually very fond of him. So fond, in fact, that just earlier she had climbed on top of him, straddled him, and hugged him tightly.

Leon asks if Gilbert is okay. In the head.

Oh, but it’s true. It was actually a very nice hug too. Usually, Emma is very shy, but Gilbert thinks she might like him. When she kisses him, her face turns so red, and her body shivers when he touches her. What could that mean other than she likes him a lot? Even now, Gilbert has no doubt that she’s desperately restraining herself from throwing herself at him.

Clavis is amazed at how far their relationship has progressed. Weakly. Leon asks if Gilbert is joking.

(Who's side is he on again?)

The betrayal!!

Gilbert sweetly apologizes for stealing their precious bunny away from them.

Okay, maybe what Gilbert is saying is true, but he’s taking everything wildly out of context.

Gilbert asks if they want to hear more about his and Emma’s ‘friendship’. Eagerly, Clavis asks how many volumes of material this romance series will go over, and Gilbert estimates at least 50 novels worth of quality and true content.

For the prologue, Gilbert will talk about all the different ways he’s touched Emma and made her feel good. The results are-

Okay, Emma gives up! She nearly collapses out from behind the bookcase, her hands desperately covering her ears. Gilbert laughs and announces that he’s found her, asking if she missed him so much. Emma yells that everything he’s saying is too malicious and out of context. Gilbert counters that it’s all true.

Okay, maybe there were facts in there, but Gilbert had gotten everything so twisted up!

Clavis muses that there were ‘facts’ in what Gilbert was saying. Emma tells him to stop thinking. Leon tells Emma that she has poor taste in men and that she should dump Gilbert. Emma wails for Leon to believe in her and her taste in men.

(Leon discovers what it feels like to be a father disapproving of his daughter's boyfriend)

Gilbert cuts in saying that he is deciding to have absolutely no idea what Emma’s talking about, but he wants to claim this win. Which means that Emma has lost their game, and now she is his to do with as he pleases.

Ugh. Emma wishes she could just disappear. Her only salvation is the Lelouch trap series that continues to separate her from Gilbert. What a pathetic way to lose.

Clavis asks Gilbert to wait. In Rhodolite, there is a tradition in these three-game matches for the loser to have one final chance to come out on top. Leon quickly agrees, it’s actually quite standard for the loser to get one final chance in Rhodolite with one final game.

Gilbert notes that Rhodolite is quite friendly to losers.

Clavis reminds Gilbert that he’s the Marshal of Eternal Victory, he will win no matter how many battles he wages. So, what’s he afraid of now? Would it really be so bad to have one last match?

Gilbert considers this and agrees that it would be boring to just end like this. Okay, he’ll be merciful to Emma.

Emma thanks Gilbert profusely, feeling like her head was suddenly yanked back from the chopping block.

Next time she will win for sure.

Current Score: 1 win and 2 losses.

Round 4 – Ms. Bunny Quiz Game

Emma looks at the final sheet of paper, written in Gilbert’s handwriting, and very slowly looks up at him. She asks what he means by ‘Ms. Bunny Quiz Game’.

Well, it’s literally a quiz showdown about Emma. She can ask Gilbert a question about herself, and he will answer it. He kind of thought this would be simple and easily understood.

If Gilbert can answer all three out of three questions, he’ll win. Otherwise, if he gets even one answer not 100% correct, Emma will win.

Emma asks if this isn’t too much of an advantage to her. Since it’s about her, there are things she can ask that Gilbert has no way of answering. Granted, if it was Rio answering instead, she’d be in trouble, but she hadn’t even met Gilbert until she came to the castle.

Gilbert asks if Emma is confident in her win. Emma is, and Gilbert points out that she should be overjoyed at this opportunity to win.

It’s too good to be true. It seems too obvious that Emma will win, but she can’t see the hidden objective.

Gilbert reminds Emma that she can still get help for this final game. He has a refreshing smile on his face, and Emma can’t see through to his evil plan. At times like this, there are only a few people she can rely on.

Sariel and Rio thankfully have some free time and are able to help her. Sariel is not thrilled to find that Gilbert and Emma are playing a game, but Rio assures Emma to leave it to him. He won’t overlook any of Gilbert’s wrongdoing. Gilbert asks what he’s done to make him so mistrusted.

Emma hopes that the two of them will figure out Gilbert’s evil plan that escapes her.

Emma has announced that she has already written down the answers to her questions on the papers before her, so Gilbert can’t say that she’s cheating. She and Rio are the only two who know what the papers say. Sariel is going to monitor Gilbert and make certain that there’s no way for him to peek at them.

Rio is confident that no one is a better master at knowing Emma than he is, and there’s no way for Gilbert to win. Gilbert asks if that’s so, he knows a lot about Emma himself.

Emma suddenly feels anxious, wondering why Gilbert is so confident. Even in this situation, where there is no way Gilbert can cheat, he has not lost his composure. What is going on with him?

First question: There is a place where Emma always buys food when she goes into town. What is it?

Gilbert complains that the question is too easy; she buys sandwiches from a bakery run by her elderly neighbors.

Emma is alerted, she’s only mentioned the place to Rio and the Bookstore Owner. How does Gilbert know? Gilbert only waves his hand and says that it was a lucky guess.

Sariel is doubtful, it was a very specific answer that one can’t just ‘luck into’. There are a lot of rats living inside and outside the castle that need exterminating. Gilbert only laughs.

Okay, so does that mean that there is a spy attached to Emma as well? That answer can’t have been a coincidence, right? Clearing her throat to hide her growing anxiety, Emma proceeds.

Second question: Where is Emma’s favorite place in Rhodolite Castle?

This is her trick question, and if she does have a spy monitoring her, they would have given Gilbert the wrong answer.

Gilbert muses that every day, Emma goes for a walk in the rose garden, which is considered the most spectacular place in the castle. He has no doubt that Emma likes it, but that is too obvious of an answer. If Emma is banking on this question, that means that the real place is something she’s confident Gilbert can’t guess at. So, it’s a secret place that she can’t enter all the time.

Emma is a well-known book lover, but most of the books in the castle library are reference and technical books. There is only one place in the palace that has the kind of books Emma likes – Chevalier’s Secret Library, home of the beast that no one can approach.

Rio is amazed that Gilbert knows about the existence of Chevalier’s secret library. Well, of course, Gilbert knows, basically, everyone does at this point. Besides, Gilbert loves ‘borrowing’ books from Chevalier from time to time, he’s never said anything when Gilbert entered.

Oh, Emma never knew that Chevalier and Gilbert were friends.

Gilbert tells Emma not to be so discouraged and asks what the final question is.

Final question: What is Emma’s special skill?

Emma is confident only Rio and the Bookstore Owner would know.

Gilbert considers her special skill, he doesn’t think that it’s making sweets. Emma agrees, she thinks of it as a hobby rather than a skill. Gilbert personally disagrees, she always makes him delicious sweets.

Oh, he gets it now.

Emma is liked by everyone, right? Today, she had many princes helping her, because they like her. He thinks her personality makes it natural for them to lend her their help, even though they are all such peculiar beasts. It’s a compliment to her that they care so much about her. Besides that, they must all find her very attractive, himself included.

So, Emma’s special skill is her perfect imitation of her butler, Rio.

Emma is off kilter for less than a second before demanding to know what that windup was about, and how did he get from that to her skill? Worse than that, it was what she had written down!

(But how did he out stalk Rio?)

Rio is suspicious and asks if Gilbert was able to peek at the answer sheet. Gilbert insists that he didn’t and asks Sariel to back him up. Sariel is worried that he somehow blinked and missed Gilbert cheating. Gilbert assures Sariel that he was most vigilant in monitoring him. Gilbert never had a chance to cheat.

Really, the natural explanation is that everyone underestimated his obsession with Emma. Turning back to her, Gilbert adds that he wants to know everything about Emma.

Well, how about that?

Oh, how scary! Emma steps back, but Gilbert quickly closes the distance between them and grabs her hand. The Marshal of Eternal Victor has won the game, completely. He tells Emma not to look so scared, he won’t do anything cruel to her.

True or not, since Emma has lost, she can no longer protest. Gilbert entwines their fingers, looking so happy that he might start humming. Emma’s heart is pounding, but is it out of fear or something else?

Worriedly, Rio calls out to Emma while reaching out to her, but suddenly Gilbert’s cloak blocks Emma’s view of him. Gilbert tells the room that their rabbit is now his.

Epilogue – The Winner’s Privilege

After losing the game to Gilbert, brings her to a quiet place so that they are alone. Gilbert reminds her about the terms, the winner can do anything they like with the loser.

Okay, but before that, could Gilbert let go of Emma?

For some reason, after bringing Emma to his room, Gilbert had her sit on his lap facing him while he sits on the sofa. He is holding Emma in his arms and doesn’t let her go. She’s put some room between their bodies, but there’s only so much she can do.

Gilbert reminds her that she lost, so she can’t argue about what he does with her.

Emma considers their position and wonders if that ‘win’ she got out of the gemstone showdown gave Gilbert ideas that she’s going to regret. Thinking of back then, that was not something she should have done to a distinguished foreign guest. However, all the regret in the world won’t turn back the clock.

A cold hand cups her cheek, as if trying to pull Emma out of her thoughts.

As the winner, Gilbert’s privilege is to go on a date with Emma.

Emma is confused and thinks about what he’s saying. It sounds like he wants to go out to the town with her, and asks if he’s sure. Since it’s Gilbert, she was expecting him to demand something far worse of her.

Oh, is Emma under the misconception that this will be a simple outing? Gilbert means the kind of date between a man and a woman. His finger flicks Emma’s earlobe and she reflexively covers it. Fingers run over the back of her hand, tickling it.

Gilbert explains that they will be together in the morning, the afternoon, and at night. Oh, they can also stay out all night long and return the next morning as well. Emma immediately protests, but Gilbert reminds her that he just won their game. Emma just stares at him with a look of horror, waiting for him to laugh and say that he was joking.

The back of Emma’s hand is stroked, and her face grows red. She wishes she can escape from this embarrassing situation, but the arm around her waist won’t let her.

Gilbert laughs, Emma’s face is so red right now. Is her imagination going into dirty places? Emma denies this, and asks what his goal is, first playing those games and then going on this date. Gilbert asks if she has any ideas of why two people would go on a date together.

Emma asks if this is part of his plan to mislead everyone about their relationship and further isolate her from the court. If a rumor about her and the enemy prince spread, it will become even colder for her at court.

Gilbert denies this, he just wants to know more about her. He notes that Emma has a suspicious expression, but he swears that it’s the truth. Emma asks if he’s telling the truth, and Gilbert insists that it is. He just really wants to get along with her. He knows that it doesn’t sound like a big deal to her, but it is one to him. It’s like a treasure.

To be fair, he would be lying if he said that he didn’t hold any malice towards her, but it’s also true that he genuinely enjoys the time they spend together.

Emma looks at Gilbert, but it doesn’t seem like he’s lying. Instead, he has a dazzlingly refreshing smile that makes her chest feel light.

Well? Gilbert thought that a date would be a nice way of spending time together. Emma considers their deal, no matter what, the loser would have no right to veto the winner’s choice.

Maybe Emma can have a little faith in the untrustworthy words of the world’s greatest villain. Truth be told, she doesn’t always hate spending time with Gilbert. Sometimes it’s fun and happy. Of course, there are a lot of painful and difficult times, so it’s not really a treasure for her.

At least, the games they played today might go into the category of ‘a good memory. Emma did have some fun during the day.

Well, that’s a promise then. Gilbert smiles, and leans forward, biting Emma on the cheek. Emma is startled and asks what he thinks he’s doing. Gilbert responds that this is kind of a promise token between them.

Oh, but to have a bite mark in such a place .  . . .

Yes, Gilbert agrees that it’s quite prominent. What kind of rumors will spread tomorrow when everyone sees it? Emma begs Gilbert to stop biting people. Gilbert complains that Emma says it like she finds it’s disrespectful, even though he only bites her. She’s special.

As Emma caresses her painful cheek, Gilbert looks satisfied. His face is full of joy, just like a winner. Emma doesn’t know what it means, but when Gilbert is with her he always seems to be having fun. She grumbles that Gilbert is the only person she would just let bite her.

There’s no real meaning in what she just said, it’s only that Gilbert is the winner.

~~

That night Gilbert passes Chevalier in the hallway and asks if he’s returning from official business. Chevalier, who is not at all put out that no one wanted to play with him, asks if Gilbert really spent the day playing games. Gilbert is impressed that Chevalier has already heard about it.

(Why does everyone but Chevalier get to play?)

Chevalier cuts to the point and asks what Gilbert wants. Gilbert only laughs and says that if Chevalier is following him closely, he can probably guess by now.

Chevalier admits that Gilbert’s actions in Rhodolite are incomprehensible. Gilbert asks how Chevalier would react to the idea that his motive is to be incomprehensible.

A man full of contradictions and incomprehensible motives is rare, Chevalier will give him that. Gilbert asks if that’s really how Chevalier sees him, and Chevalier asks if he’s wrong.

With a snort, Chevalier continues walking past Gilbert and leaves.

Gilbert begins to walk away too, but then catches his reflection in the window.

Oh, that’s what Chevalier was talking about.

Gilbert smiles wryly at the reflection in the window. It has an expression of sorrow as if lamenting the coming end. He needs to be careful not to show this face to anyone.

[toastyeverlark]

“And our top student this year is…Peeta Mellark!”

Peeta Mellark. It’s always Peeta Mellark. Peeta. Freaking. Mellark. Of course it is. When is it not?

It used to be me…Katniss Everdeen, until he transferred here.

Finnick nudges me playfully. “Wow, Katniss. Looks like you’re never going to catch up to him.”

I shoot a dirty look at Finnick. I don’t know why I still have him as a friend if he’s always getting on my nerves. He knows how annoyed I can get when it comes to Peeta, and yet he likes to bring him up just to spite me.

“We’ve never spoken to him before,” Finnick says to me as I’m putting my things away in my locker.

“So?”

“Do you think he’s nice? I’ve heard people say he’s really nice.”

“Yeah, and you thought I was mean because everyone was saying that about me.”

Finnick tries to hide his smile. “Well, they’re not really wrong about that.”

I elbow him and he backs away, laughing. “See? Proves their point.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s probably a jerk, and really snobby and overly confident. They’re always like this whenever they get good grades. Besides, he doesn’t…look bad, so they’ll definitely be crazy over him, which will make it ten times worse. His ego is going to explode. It probably already has.”

“You get good grades and you’re not like that,” Finnick says a little half-heartedly. He’s looking over at something.

I scoff. “Yeah, thanks.”

“He’s coming over,” he frantically nudges me.

“What? Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“What? I don’t have a boyfriend - ”

I turn around and come face-to-face with Peeta Mellark.

“Glad to hear that you don’t have one,” he smiles. He’s got one of the most genuine smiles I’ve ever seen. Maybe this is where the ‘Mr Nice’ persona comes from. His smile makes him seem like the purest person in the world. I don’t like it.

“Why are you talking to me?” I frown.

“I’ve been waiting for the chance to talk to you ever since I heard about you.”

“Well, congratulations.”

“You’re Katniss, right? I’m Peeta. Mellark. I’m not sure if you already knew,” he looks at Finnick and smiles again. “Hi, you must be Finnick.”

“Unfortunately I did. Is there anything else?”

He looks slightly disappointed. “Oh, no…I was just wondering - never mind. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” I manage to say before I take Finnick’s hand and walk off.

“Katniss,” he yanks his hand out of my grasp when we’re out of sight. “Why were you being so mean to him? This is the first time someone from the male population has taken an interest in you other than me, and I don’t even think you’re that interesting anymore.”

“Why would he talk to me for no reason? He’s never talked to me until today. He’s got to have some ulterior motive. I don’t need to be nice to him.”

“He’s clearly interested in you.”

“Yeah, interested in how he can get to know me so that he can take advantage of it to continue doing better than me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to study for tomorrow’s test. Try not to fail, because I’m not going to tutor you again.”

“At least I’m not a complete loser when it comes to romance. At this rate, I’m gonna have to marry you.”

This makes me laugh out loud. “What makes you think that?”

“Because if you’re always going to be mean, you’ll need someone who’s okay with your meanness. At the moment, no one’s okay with that but me.”

“You’ll need someone who’s okay with how annoying you are, too. I’m not the only one with a problem, Finnick.”

“I guess we both have problems.”

—

“Hi. Katniss.”

I look up from my laptop. It’s him again.

“What do you want, Peeta?”

He smiles and scratches the back of his head.

“Are you studying?”

“I don’t see why you need information on that.”

“Oh. Well, I was wondering if you mind…the other seats in the library are all taken.”

Why does he have to ask me? He could’ve asked anyone, especially since he’s so popular. They would be tripping over themselves to give up their seats for him.

Fine. I’m not going to fight with him for a seat.

“Alright then. I’ll get going.”

“No, no, Katniss, wait. I don’t mean it like that. You don’t have to go. I…wanted to ask if I could share the table with you.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been here for over four hours anyway,” I start gathering my things and shoving them in my backpack.

He stands there without another word, and only mutters a ‘bye’ when I leave.

“I saw that.”

I stagger backwards to avoid bumping into Finnick.

“You scared me. Can you stop popping out of the ground like that?”

“You need to take a hint, Katniss,” he says in exasperation while crossing his arms. “Peeta wants to talk to you.”

“I don’t care.”

“You need to stop being so bitter just because he does better than you, you know. He has never offended you and definitely doesn’t deserve you being so mean to him.”

I have to admit, hearing Finnick say that makes me feel a sense of guilt for all the times I grumbled about Peeta getting better grades and stealing the title of valedictorian from me. Maybe all this while, I have been the problem.

—

“Hi Katniss.”

I’m starting to recognise his voice now.

“Hi, Peeta.” This time, I choose to give him a smile. Just out of politeness. His already bright eyes seem to brighten even more when I do that.

“The other seats are taken…again. I was wondering if I could join you?”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll go. You can have the table to yourself.”

“No, I really would like for you to - okay. I’ve got an extra cup of coffee though. You can have it.”

He places a brown paper cup on the table.

“I only take caramel macchiatos, sorry.”

“It is a caramel macchiato,” Peeta smiles. That smile again. For some reason, it makes me feel a little weird inside. If there was a contest, he would’ve won hands-down for having the nicest looking smile.

“Oh. It’s okay. I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that,” he pushes the cup nearer to me. “I got the wrong order. I wouldn’t have drank it anyway.”

I look at him doubtfully, and he edges it closer towards me.

“Please?” he looks me in the eye when he says this, and I have to look away.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll…get going.”

Maybe Peeta Mellark really isn’t that bad.

[maxattax]

Look Away - Chapter 2

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Epilogue --

Danny sat on his bed, flanked by Sam and Tucker. “I can’t believe Skulker attacked me at school. I thought we had an agreement! Like, I know he’s not gonna stop hunting me, but at least do it when I’m not at school or sleeping.”

“You can’t expect sportsmanship from Skulker,” said Tucker. “The dude wants to skin you and display your pelt in his lair, you think he cares if you’re sleep deprived?”

“I don’t know, Tucker,” said Sam. “He does seem to want to give Danny a sporting chance. He could have killed him in his sleep ages ago, but he wants the fight.”

“Thanks guys,” Danny said sarcastically. “Now I’m definitely not worried about Skulker killing me in my sleep.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m just so frustrated. My parents are getting concerned about my grades. I don’t need them looking closer to find out why I’m failing.”

Tucker put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, dude. Your parents are oblivious; they’ll never figure out your secret.”

Sam picked at a loose thread on the sheets. “On that note, there’s something you should know. Wes has been talking to people about you.”

Danny threw his hands in the air. “Of course. Just what I need.” He sighed. “What is he saying?”

“He hasn’t talked to me, I think because he knows how close we are. But I’ve overheard some things. He’s been talking about how you look a lot like Phantom and is asking people if they’ve noticed anything weird about you.”

This was unexpected, but not surprising, considering all the pictures he’d been taking. “Do they believe him? That I’m Phantom? Have they noticed anything?”

“Pfft, no,” Sam scoffed. “They all think he’s some crazy conspiracy theorist.”

Tucker added, “If I didn’t know the truth, I’d think he was crazy too. How can someone be alive and dead at the same time?”

Danny chuckled. “I guess I do have scientific impossibility on my side.”

“There’s also the fact that you act really different in ghost form,” Sam said.

“I do?”

“Yeah. You have this confidence about you as Phantom. You’re funny and put on a show when you fight ghosts, even with no audience. You’re strong, and you kick butt. As Fenton, you’re still funny, but nobody else really sees that side of you. You’re sweet, and caring, and…” Sam trailed off, her face turning red. “Point is, people see what they want to see, and they see us as losers who couldn’t be as cool as Phantom if we tried. No offense.”

Tucker looked like he wanted to take offense, but Danny said, “None taken,” before he had a chance to protest. “Do you guys notice that I act differently? I’m still me.”

Tucker said, “Well, you do act a bit more… what’s the word?” His brow furrowed as he searched for the word he wanted.

“Emotionally volatile?” Sam supplied.

“Sure, let’s go with that. You get angry easily, which could be because ghosts are trying to kill you all the time, but you get short with us too. You get really happy when you’re flying. You get… I don’t know, it’s hard to put into words.”

Danny was silent for a moment, a pensive look on his face. “I guess I do feel things more strongly in ghost form. Most of what I feel is frustration at the ghosts that are attacking me, though.” He decided not to mention the nights he would sit on the roof of FentonWorks in his ghost form and cry. Life was rough for a half-dead kid. “I don’t feel like I act that differently.”

“No, you definitely do,” said Sam. “Just like… bolder, I guess. As Tucker said, it’s hard to put into words. You’ve just got different vibes.”

“Vibes. Okay.” Danny didn’t get it. If he acted differently, couldn’t they tell him how? Give him something more concrete than “vibes”?

“It’s getting late,” Danny said without looking at his watch. “You guys should probably start heading out.”

Sam and Tucker shot each other a look. Danny knew what it meant, and he didn’t like that they were concerned about him. He was fine, he just wanted to be alone.

“Okay dude, if you’re sure,” said Tucker. Danny nodded.

“Have a good night Danny. We’ll see you at school,” said Sam.

“Night.” Danny watched them leave, then flopped down onto the bed, laying on his back. He stared at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling of his bedroom. He couldn’t be that different in ghost form, right? He was still the same person.

The plastic stars were a poor substitute for the real thing. Danny transformed and phased through the ceiling, out into the night sky. He flew over the town, watching the cars and street lights twinkle below him. He didn’t feel any different than usual. Freer, sure, but having the ability to fly would make anyone feel that way.

Why didn’t they understand? They couldn’t know what it was like, being him. Being caught between two worlds, having all this responsibility. Of course he was angry! His parents and most of the ghost zone wanted to destroy him. He had to balance schoolwork and fighting ghosts and keeping his identity secret. Who wouldn’t be a bit “emotionally volatile” with so much going on? Danny was shaking, his flight becoming more erratic. 

They just didn’t get it. They couldn’t get it. He was a half-ghost freak, and they were still human. They’d never go through what he did every day. How could he make them understand? His human form and his ghost form, they were both him. He was still Danny. If Sam and Tucker of all people didn’t see that, who would? 

The city lights blurred as a couple glowing tears fell from Danny’s green eyes. Up there, high above Amity Park, he felt entirely alone.

[warningsine]

The French president, Emmanuel Macron, has named a new government led by the prime minister, Michel Barnier, marked by a shift to the right 11 weeks after an inconclusive parliamentary election.

The first major task for Barnier, appointed just more than two weeks ago, will be to submit a 2025 budget plan addressing France’s financial situation, which the prime minister this week called “very serious”.

Barnier, a conservative, is best known internationally for leading the EU’s Brexit negotiations with the UK.

Most recently, he has had the difficult job of submitting a cabinet for Macron’s approval that has the best chance of surviving a no-confidence motion in parliament.

Opposition politicians from the left have already said they will challenge the cabinet, announced on Saturday evening, with a no-confidence motion.

n the July election, a leftwing bloc called the New Popular Front (NFP) won the most parliamentary seats of any political bloc, but not enough for an overall majority.

Macron argued that the left would be unable to muster enough support to form a government that would not immediately be brought down in parliament.

He turned instead to Barnier to lead a government drawing mostly on parliamentary support from Macron’s allies, as well as from the conservative republicans (LR) and the centrists groups.

Macron was counting too, on a neutral stance from the far right – but the leader of the National Rally (RN), Jordan Bardella, was quick to condemn the composition of the new government.

It marked “a return to Macronism” and so had “no future whatsoever”, he said on Saturday.

At the other end of the political spectrum, the leftwinger Jean-Luc Mélenchon called the new lineup “a government of the general election losers”.

France, he said, should “get rid” of the government “as soon as possible”.

Among the new faces in key cabinet posts are the foreign minister, Jean-Noël Barrot, a centrist, and the conservative Bruno Retailleau at the interior ministry, whose portfolio covers immigration.

The defence minister, Sébastien Lecornu, a close Macron ally, has stayed in post.

The difficult job of submitting a budget plan to parliament next month falls to the 33-year-old Antoine Armand, the new finance minister. He has previously served as head of parliament’s economic affairs commission.

The centrist and conservative parties will depend on others, and in particular the RN, to stay in power and get bills adopted by a very fractured parliament.

“The centrist government is de facto a minority administration,” Eurointelligence analysts said in a note. Its ministers “will not only have to agree amongst each other but also will need votes from opposition parties for its bills to pass in the assembly. This means offering even more concessions and manoeuvring.”

The RN gave tacit support to Barnier’s premiership, but reserved the right to back out at any point if its concerns over immigration, security and other issues were not met.

“I’m angry to see a government that looks set to recycle all the election losers,” Mathilde Panot, who leads the hard-left LFI group of lawmakers, told TF1 television.

Even before the announcement, thousands of people with left-leaning sympathies took to the streets in Paris, the southern port city of Marseille and elsewhere on Saturday to protest.

They were objecting to a cabinet they say does not reflect the outcome of the parliamentary election.

“I am here because this outcome does not correspond to how people voted,” said Violette Bourguignon, 21, demonstrating in Paris.

“I am worried and I’m angry. What is the point of having an election at all?” she said.

Reuters contributed to this report

[bwprestwick]

When his little sister had first found out that Bradley was in frequent contact with Persephone Blake (he’d been way too scared that calling their dynamic a ‘friendship’ would be presumptuous), he’d half-expected the full canine population of New York to show up outside his apartment what with the high-pitched shriek that Maia had emitted. He’d been forced to endure a play-by-play of each and every one of Persephone’s theatre roles, given to him in excruciating detail until he was pretty sure he knew the whole ins and outs of the blonde’s Broadway career. To say that his little sister was a fan would be an understatement, but it only served to make Bradey more uncomfortable than anything else.

Any decent big brother would have asked Sephy to sign something for Maia, wouldn’t they? He knew his sister was chomping at the damn bit to get a photo with Sephy in order to impress the kids on her college course, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Maybe he would have managed to find the words if he wasn’t already snowed under by the guilt of not being readily forthright with Sephy about already knowing her.

And not just in a ‘my little sister religiously listens to any and all of your Broadway cast recordings’ way. There was the whole mess in LA when he’d been the only one in a group of morally loose paparazzi losers to put his camera down and help the girl who was staggering about an alleyway, clearly not in her right mind. Somehow he’d managed to get her home and safely tucked into bed, with no idea whatsoever that a few years down the line he’d bump into her in a bakery and somehow become friends with her. In the middle of all of that, when was the right time to tell someone that you used to profit off of their misfortune? He was still too cowardly to ever bring it up.

Instead, he’d let himself fall into a friendship-of-sorts with the blonde. Truth be told, he could confidently say that he knew her as Persephone-the-baker, rather than Persephone-the-actor, which was a privilege he knew most people didn’t have the luxury of. What that meant for their specific relationship, he didn’t know. It didn’t seem wise for him to speculate too much.

Plus, it was possible that the duration of his friendship with Sephy had already run its course now that he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at a flour-covered Sephy and knowing fine well there was little chance of her not being pissed off with him. 

A coward from the day he was born, Bradley’s first instinct was to step back, drop the remaining trays and try his best to flee the scene. It didn’t paint him in a particularly good light, but by the end of the day he’d still be able to say that he still had all his appendages attached and intact.

At her question, spat out at him through gritted teeth, he froze in place. Okay, so running was out of the question now, he guessed.

“Oh, nothing,” he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant and not at all like he was staring into the face of a hungry goddamn Rancor right now. “Just… maybe your expression and your tone and the fact that if this were a cartoon, you’d definitely have steam coming out of your ears right now and I’m not really helping my case, am I?”

His inane ramblings were cut off by the squelching noise of cake batter slapping against his face. Immediately, he screwed his nose up but made no move to flinch away, surrendering himself (and his flannel shirt) to be the victim of the lumpy, eggy, floury mess. It was cold and sticky as soon as it hit his jaw and he felt his whole frame wilt in defeat.

“Yeah, okay, I deserved that,” he acquiesced. So agreeable, it was kind of pathetic. He eyed Sephy for a moment, knowing that she would be satisfied with getting him back in this way. 

Hey, she looked happier already. And Bradley was an idiot. So after putting two and two together and getting ‘chaos’, he shoved the remaining trays he carried onto the table at his side and reached up to wipe the mix from his face, before quickly letting his hand dart out so he could smear it onto the tip of Sephy’s nose.

Then, he jumped back, to the far end of the kitchen where he hoped Sephy couldn’t reach him all that quickly.

“Hey, yellow’s your colour more than it’s mine!” he reasoned with her, face stretching wide in a grin.

Even on a casual Wednesday afternoon, Persephone loathed the hustle and bustle of Whisk & Wonder. She hated listening to children – who, in her opinion, should be at school and nowhere near her direct line of sight – throw tantrums to exhausted and indifferent parents as they relentlessly insisted upon why the deserved an assortment of baked goods of their own choosing. Spoiler Alert: They didn’t deserve shit. She hated dealing with entitled, asshole businessmen who strutted on in like they owned the damn place; Making unreasonably large orders at the last possible minute while being far too impatient and self-involved to understand that baking and providing 36 red velvet cupcakes, 16 cronuts, 8 slices of gluten free raspberry cheesecake and 4 vegan salted caramel cookies would take a little time, sir and that no, we don’t have your extremely vast order of 64 baked goods of your own personal tastes on demand because, actually, other people like to order from us too, pal. 

So, considering that today was a Saturday and she was dealing with the frantic screams of 20 children at a 7th Birthday Party, it was probably fair to assume she was feeling a little stressed. 

Luckily, she and Kit had been relieved of one screaming baby when Bradley had sheepishly offered to take sweet Jenna off their hands for a little while. It gave them both the time to swap places every hour or so – Kit in the kitchen (where, frankly, she thrived far more than Persephone did) and Sephy serving up an endless supply of sugar to a room full of already hyperactive children. Currently, Sephy was tucked away in the kitchen, pouring all of her energy into a new batch of cupcakes; Apparently 4 and a half hours into a children’s party was the appropriate time to tell the bakers on hand that, actually, two of the children were vegan, three were gluten free, and one of them was a Type 2 Diabetic.  

The sound of Bradley clearing his throat caught her attention as she lifted her head to offer him a warm smile. As embarrassing as it was to admit it, she kind of loved seeing his stupid face. Days with Bradley usually always ended in aching cheeks, a sore stomach, and a sense of calm washing over her that she had rarely felt in recent years. And, given that he was no sans-Jenna, a tray in hand and with Kit nowhere to be seen, Sephy quietly delighted in the knowledge that Bradley would have no choice but to be her helper for the next 20 minutes or so. 

That delight, and the smile that went with it, were soon washed away as she watched him spill the contents of his dirty tray directly into the bowl of flour she’d set aside mere moments ago. 

If it had been anyone else, she might have been furious. Really, the fact that it was Bradley meant she should be even more furious, but something about the events that had just unfolded seemed entirely on brand for her lanky friend. As flour showered her, spilling directly into the bowl of gluten free cake mix that she’d just been tending to – now deeming it entirely useless – she stood stock-still, wincing slightly as soft, white specks dotted her cheeks and coated her hair. 

Sephy knew better than most – both from a lifetime on screen and stage, and as a byproduct of being friends with Ripley – that making a mess was much easier than cleaning it. Things didn’t go as smoothly as they often did on screen – a simple shake of her head wouldn’t free her from the layer of speckled dust that had made a home atop her head, so there was really no use even trying. 

Exhaling slowly, Persephone blinked in rapid succession, trying to clear her now-smoky vision so that she could take a better look at the absolute clown that she’d, inexplicably, laid so many of her affections upon of late. 

“Now what would possibly make you think I’m going to yell at you, Sasquatch?” she asked, through gritted teeth. 

Carefully, she lifted her hands out from the bowl of ruined mix that she’d been working on, and slowly rounded the counter. Taking a few, small steps towards him, her hands held up in surrender, she tipped her head to the side. 

“No, like. Seriously? Why would I yell at you...” she pondered, aiming her eyes to the sky as she came to a stop in front of him. “When I could do... this?” 

With that, she accented her final words by bringing both of her hands to either side of his face, a moist splat sound echoing through the kitchen as she caked his stubbly jawline in yellow mush. 

[arent-i-the-fairest]

Idia with an s/o who used to stalk him (not in a perverted way) before they started dating bc they wanted to befriend him but was too afraid to approach him pls?

#𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲

author’s note : a non-perverse stalker, what an oxymoron lol— but i did my best to write it here! hope you enjoy~!! ( ＾∇＾）

cw : stalking

idia remembers the day you two started dating— which was also the day ortho revealed all the things you did to get to this point. (not knowing you didn’t want him to.) and idia was absolutely speechless— like, how does he react to this information?? does he… does he thank you for all the effort you went through? run for the hills?? thank you then run?

well, over anything, he is baffled. baffled that you went to the lengths you did just to try getting to know him. the biggest reason being because, well, it’s you— like, the coolest person in the school. you’re mx. magicless person that came from another world that also took down several overblots.

—he’d think you, of all people, would be able to just walk up to a loser like him and ask for his number with no problem. but ends up you were afraid of him. him. idia shroud.

(well, having someone intimidated by him… it’s not a first or anything— far from it, in fact— but still! he’s surprised.)

but anyways, it’s oddly amusing for him to hear all the shenanigans you got into before you two started dating. let’s take a look at a few of them, shall we?

one of the things you used to do was constantly look through his magicam— so you were always checking to see if he posted anything new, rereading his old posts, so on and so forth.

grim watched you scrolling from over your shoulder. “and just what are you trying to gather from reading all of his posts?” he asked.

“his likes, dislikes— stuff like that. he posts a lot about them, and is so passionate about them too! for example he loves this one idol group, premo— and this anime, attack on…” grim started tuning your voice out, sleepy.

“you…” he yawned, crawling up up your lap. “sound crazy— MRRAH?!” he hissed as you suddenly stood up, starting to pace back and forth around the room. “damn it..” you muttered.

“henchman?”

“I ACCIDENTALLY LIKED SOME RANDOM POST HE MADE 6 MONTHS AGO—”

you would often try and send your friends to go and ask idia questions, and they were… not the most enthusiastic about the idea of being your errand boy, to say the least. but hey, you gave them good rewards, so they all caved in at the end.

“so, you want me to run to ignihyde just to ask idia what his favorite food is?” ace asked, squinting his eyes.

you nodded. “correct.” “pfft— no way, you can do it by yourself, you’re a big kid!” he scoffed, walking away. “ace, come back! you know i can’t, i don’t even know how to approach him! do this for me and you get to copy off my homework for every day the next week!”

ace stopped in his tracks and turned right around. “ohoho— sold!” he laughed as he started running towards the dorm.

there were some times where you wanted to drop this whole scheme— several, in fact. because, well, this is weird. so you’d try and talk to him face to face, like normal people would— you had a pretty good chance of having a good, smooth conversation too, since you had the advantage of knowing what he likes and doesn’t like! —but still, every attempt failed since you ended up getting cold feet.

thanks to reading through idia’s posts, you felt prepared to talk to him. extra prepared, actually, since you brought something that he’s had his eye on— a manga, which he posted about wanting yesterday. that you went out of your way to find and purchase.

manga in hand, you approached idia’s room, but stopped halfway. did you really have the confidence for this?

on the other side of the door— idia looked at his younger brother, who suddenly seemed alert. “idia, i’m detecting someone else is super near— they’re right outside your door!” “WHAT”

hearing all the commotion, you were tipped over the edge and ended up running away. womp womp~

this whole thing was kind of a wild journey for you, one you don’t quite know if you enjoyed or not— but hey, you got your man now.

[messers-moony]

My Everything | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Wife!Reader

Summary: When five marauders goes to two within the instance of a day. Two children are left without fathers and a wife is left without a husband.

Request: Sirius Black x Wife!reader reuniting and she's Remus sister

A/N: My first Harry Potter request. I got so excited to see this in my inbox and I hope it isn’t the last :)

Perhaps it was the feeling of betrayal she felt when he was finally gone. The fact that everything he’d ever said was a lie. She couldn’t help but think maybe his vows were a lie too. The five Marauders were now two. Only two left. How did this even happen? 

The unbreakable group of five. James Potter, the so-called leader of them all. The mom friend who always made sure everyone was okay and cared for. Sirius Black, the second in command. The mischievous, charismatic troublemaker who was always in detention. Peter Pettigrew, the outcast of them all. The shy and naive boy who gave them all a sense of logic. Remus Lupin, the intelligent and solace of them all. The only boy smart enough not to get caught. Y/n Lupin, the creative and sneaky one. The only one who could sneak and out of the Potions cabinet without Slughorn noticing. 

Now it was just the Lupin twins who, as Sirius called them, the “Linking Lupins.” It was hard in the beginning. First-year was difficult. All they had was each other. Lyall hadn’t really been accepting in the first place, but Hope was always blissfully unaware of her son's problem. All she knew was that he had to go away once a month. Lyall cursed himself out every night that Remus went away, cursing himself for letting this happen to his son. 

The cries of his baby girl begging for her brother. The wails of Y/n pleading for Remus not to go away. Not wanting to let go of him, hearing Remus from inside the room in the basement begging to be let out. Sobbing, crying for his mum or his dad to let him out, praying that the wolf doesn’t take over. Whimpering at how much it hurts the way his bones dislocate and relocate back together in a new way. 

So yeah, first year was challenging. But Dumbledore had a safe place for him to go every evening of the full moon, and Y/n would be there when he woke up every time. Remus relished in the way her hands felt in his. They were so soft compared to his calloused ones. So gentle compared to his often rough movements. Small compared to big. She was everything he wasn’t, and he was happy about that. 

James Potter was the first to talk to them with his flamboyant nature. His eyes were the lightest of browns with spotted glittering green. His smile was perfect and straight. How could someone’s smile be that way at the ripe age of eleven? Despite his aura screaming, “I’m the popular kid, and you’re the loser,” he was actually quite nice. 

Upon looking at James, the Lupin twins both thought of trouble. They remembered the popular kids from their muggle school before this one, how they used to belittle Remus for his scars and how Y/n used to push them away. So, forgive them for being a little cautious around him. It didn’t help that James’ counterpart was the opposite of them both. 

Sirius Black, lanky and confident. This boy had no boundaries and absolutely no limits. If he wanted it, he was going to get it. His eyes were the purest iron, and his smile was white like quartz. Hair black as coal and personality as gregarious as the color wheel. His style was toned back, but his character could’ve put the color wheel to shame with how bright he was. Sirius Black could’ve been the antonym to Remus and Y/n Lupin. 

During second year they found another boy who was being beaten by Slytherins for his scarlet and golden robes. He was stocky, and it seems that he was pretty timid. His blond hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes full of fright. Y/n had stepped in front of him just like she had Remus from the bullies back in muggle school. Her wand was held tight in her grip as she stared at them. 

“What are you gonna do, Loony Lupin?” One of them snarled. 

“Aguamenti.” 

The Slytherins were now covered in water. Damp like they had all taken a shower with their clothes on. Their black robes turned a shade darker. The evergreen accents turned olive, and the silver turned into grey. The main Slytherin boy gritted his teeth, and his icy eyes stared into Y/n’s e/c ones. 

“You’ll pay for that.”

Y/n pocketed her wand in her robes, smiling sweetly, “I’m sure I will. Now, run along before I do something worse.”

They didn’t want to obey, but they also didn’t want to stay in that situation. The Slytherins scurried off like dogs following their owner's command. Y/n fixed her hair with her hand and turned around. She was offering her soft hand to the boy who was frozen, shocked, staring at her. Hesitantly he gripped her hand, allowing her to pull him up. She was only slightly shorter than him. 

“Y/n Lupin.” She introduced, “You are?”

“Pe- Peter Pettigrew.”

Y/n bowed playfully, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Peter.” 

“Pleasure.” Peter muttered shyly as her group of friends approached. 

Remus swung an arm around her shoulders, “You’re bloody brilliant, you know?”

“Our star.” Sirius swooned jokingly as Y/n punched his shoulder, causing him to pout, “Who’s this?” James queried, looking at Peter, who cowered under the hazel-eyed gaze. 

“Boys,” Y/n smiled brightly, “This is our new member of the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew.”

Peter fiddled with his hands anxiously, “New- New member?”

“Mhm!” Y/n hummed, “You’re our new addition.”

James smiled, “Any friend of Y/n’s is a friend of ours. Welcome, Peter.”

From then it went from four to five. Peter never really stopped thanking them for letting him in. For the first time, Peter felt at home, and it was thanks to Y/n. He realized how kind she was, how creative she was. It was so strange. The group was so different, like extraordinarily diverse, yet they worked together so well. Y/n and Remus seemed to be the brains of things. James and Sirius seemed to be the trouble makers. Peter just did his own thing but always contributed. 

In fifth year Remus started to worry. Everyone was so secretive. They stopped hanging around as much, even his sister. It hurt. It really hurt to see them seeking around on the map that he and Y/n created together for the most part. It wasn’t until during the winter break did Y/n finally realize what they were doing affected them. 

Remus barely cried. Or at least that’s what people made it out to seem. Remus actually cried a decent amount. He was snuggled up in his room. His blanket encasing him, and his arms held around his pillow tightly, gripping it as if it’d leave him like he felt everyone else was. His heart felt broken. Y/n was outside his door, hearing his soft cries, and gently knocked on the door. 

“Rem. Can I come in, please?”

He didn’t say anything, so she just let herself in. The door closed behind her with a click, and she saw her tall brother curled up into the tightest ball with silver streams on his cheeks. Y/n sat in front of him and rubbed the side of his arm. Remus’ eyes continue to release water like a dam that had been broken. He couldn’t swallow it no matter how hard he tried. 

“What’s wrong, Rem?”

Remus didn’t say anything. He just dug his head deeper into the pillow he was holding. Y/n’s hand made its way to his sandy-colored hair. She was scratching at the scalp and smoothing his hair away from his face keeping the strands from getting wet. Her hand hesitantly reached his cheek and wiped away the tears that kept falling. 

She sighed, “Remus, please.”

“You’re- you’re gon’ leave me, aren’ you.” Remus choked. 

“Leave you?” Y/n questioned softly, afraid if she raised her voice any more, it’d make things worse, “I wouldn’t leave you if I was given a chance, Remmy.”

He sniffled, “You- you haven’ been a- around.”

“I know.” Y/n soothed, caressing his cheek, “But there’s an explanation for it. James, Sirius, Peter, and I have been distant. We know that. But there’s a reason for it. You’ll find out soon.”

Remus’ eyes met his sister's warm e/c ones, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never.” 

He smiled gently. The corners of his lips barely curled, but she knew it was there. Remus had fallen asleep with his sister's hand in his hair. When she was sure he was sleeping, Y/n left the bedroom, allowing him to sleep peacefully. Then she wrote a letter to James where she knew Sirius was staying too. 

One more week, Y/n thought. One more week of this Mandrake leaf in their mouths until they could be done with this. 

It took another month before it was ready. Before they were ready. They were in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when they started. James started first. When he turned into a stag, they all began laughing. James turned back, pouting. Sirius turned second into a huge black dog. Y/n smiled and petted his head. 

“Very fitting, Sirius.”

Sirius turned back, letting Peter turn next. He was so tiny that Sirius almost stepped on him. James and Y/n sniggered at their rat friend. Next was Y/n, who turned into a graceful cat. Her fur was black, and her eyes were a striking e/c. James smirked and nudged Sirius. 

“Matching animagus’, eh?”

Sirius scowled, “Cats and dogs don’t match.”

Y/n turned back, “Don’t they?”

“Ready for this full moon?” James asked them all. 

“‘Course!”

“Yep!”

“Can’t wait.”

That full moon was better than them all. Remus had people to join him. There was something that he noticed, though. Every time he’d get close to the cat, the dog would growl and stand in front of her. It was like the dog was protecting what was his. Y/n noticed it too. Every time Remus got close, Sirius stood in front of her, keeping him at a safe distance. 

It wasn’t until a quiet night in the Marauders dorm did Remus finally bring it up, “Sirius.”

“Remus.”

“How long?”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “How long what?”

“You know,” Remus moved his hand in a circular motion for him to continue, “How long have you liked my sister?”

“Woah, Remus.” Sirius stated in shock, “That’s quite the accusation.”

Remus tilted his head, “Is it?”

“Yeah. It is.” Sirius replied, “Y/n is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“So, you not sleeping with any girls for the past year is just a coincidence?” Remus questioned knowingly, “You staring at her during class and parties is just on accident?”

Sirius’ cheeks went pink, “And it’s definitely a coincidence that you always hug her first after every Quidditch match.”

“Okay, fine, fine.” Sirius confessed, “I like Y/n. I have for a while.”

“So why haven’t you asked her out?”

“Excuse me?”

Remus shrugged, “Why haven’t you asked her out yet? You know she enjoys going to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks.”

“Mate, have you forgotten we’re talking about your sister?” Sirius asked, “Like your twin sister?”

“I know.” Remus replied, “She likes you too, you know.”

Sirius’ eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. How in the name of Merlin was Remus so calm about this? He said it so casually as if they were talking about the weather. Sirius expected Remus to get angry or throw a book at him. 

“Are you- Are you giving me permission to date your sister?”

“As long as you don’t hurt her, sure.”

Sirius hesitated before asking his next question, “Can you help me do it?”

Remus smirked, “Casanova of Hogwarts can’t ask out Y/n?”

“Please, Remus.” Sirius begged, “I really like her, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Remus snorted, “You always fuck things up.”

“That’s why I need you!” 

Remus just smirked triumphantly. 

“Pleaaaseeeeeee.”

“Alright, fine.” Remus relented, “Just be cool about it, yeah? Take her to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks. She’d enjoy that a lot. Maybe take her to Tomes and Scrolls.”

“You’re a lifesaver!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Remus rolled his eyes, “Now shut up. ‘M tired.”

The following day Sirius and Y/n did go to Hogsmeade together. She was amazed when they went into Honeydukes together. She picked out some of her favorite sweets and some for Remus since the full moon was a week away. When she went to pay for it, Sirius pushed her hand away, paying for it himself. Y/n wouldn’t stop thanking him. 

Next, they went to Tomes and Scrolls. On any ordinary occasion, Sirius would’ve hated this. Truth be told, he wasn’t really a reader or a book person in general. But for her, he’d do absolutely anything. Y/n picked out some new books and began raving to Sirius about one in particular. So again, Sirius paid for them and told her to find a table in the Three Broomsticks. 

Sirius went to the area where the book she was raving about was found. He grabbed one for himself, planning to read and annotate it for her. Maybe he’d give it to her as a birthday gift or just a random gift. Nonetheless, he knew she’d love it, and Sirius would fall off a cliff if she asked him to. 

Inside he found her sitting with a hot chocolate and a butterbeer for himself. Sirius slid into the booth smiling at her. They talked about everything and anything. Sirius even went as far as to tell her some stuff about his family the other guys didn’t know about. He went on about how he envied Remus and her relationship wanting the same thing with Regulus. 

Sirius told her how he wanted his future to look. How many tattoos he wanted. Where he wanted to live. How many children he wanted. So on and so forth. He was so open and so honest it surprised her. Generally, if someone asked Sirius what he wanted his future to look at, he’d just shrug. Now he was spilling everything to her. 

It didn’t take long after that for them to become official. Remus smiled when she announced it. He was happy for her. Remus could see how happy Sirius made her, and for that, he was grateful that someone could take care of her in his absence. Y/n only wanted that for him too. One day she’d have a family, and Remus wouldn’t be her main priority. That scared her because, for all seventeen years of her life, it was just her and Remus. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, they got married. It wasn’t anything huge, especially with Voldemort on the rise, but it happened. James was Sirius’ best man, and Marlene was Y/n’s maid of honor. Remus walked Y/n down the aisle and gently kissed her cheek before letting her go. Seeing Sirius and Y/n get married made James overjoyed to marry Lily, but that would happen all in due time. 

So what was it that made her feel this way? Was it the betrayal? Was it the dishonesty? Was it the disloyalty? What was it in truth? The moment Sirius was locked away in Azkaban, everything changed. When Remus heard about it, she was his first stop. Inside he saw her with a baby on her lap. Their baby boy, just a year old. He was born only months before Harry. 

Little Perseus Sirius Black. Y/n’s pride and joy. He was everything to her. Remus had walked into the house seeing his broken sister holding her child close to her as he cried. Remus walked in and gently took the child from her arms, allowing her to lean on his shoulder as he held Perseus. The little boy smiled at the familiar face of his uncle. 

“Rem!” 

Remus smiled softly, “Hey, Perseus.”

It took a long time for Y/n to collect herself. Remus had taken a spot in the house since he couldn’t find a place by himself. Y/n worked at the ministry most days, and Remus would take care of her little troublemaker. As Perseus grew, he looked more and more like his mother. The same e/c eyes and h/c hair. The only thing that made him look like a Black was his defined body and facial structure. 

The sharp jawline, the defined nose, the straight cheekbones, the semi-hollow cheeks, and the pointed chin. His features were that of the Noble House of Black, yet he could’ve made his way to look like a Lupin even more. For a while, Y/n worked a lot. She was trying to keep her family afloat. But it wasn’t until Remus said he got a job offer at Hogwarts did she have to stop. Working for her felt like nothing. Every day she was worried about Perseus going to school. Especially with Sirius being out of Azkaban. 

The night that Remus saw Peter Pettigrew on the map, he knew something was wrong and sent Y/n and owl for her to come to Hogwarts. Without hesitation, she did. On the night of that full moon, she was also down in the Shrieking Shack, holding Harry close to her, not wanting him to get hurt. When everything got resolved, she cried. 

Y/n went home that night rethinking everything. A week later, Remus and Perseus returned home. She couldn’t remember holding Percy that tight ever. Y/n was just thankful that he was safe and he was home. That night that Y/n and Remus told Percy what really happened, why his father was never really in the picture. 

A year later is when Perseus finally met his father - well, that he can remember. He was fifteen now, going into his fifth year at Hogwarts when Y/n and Remus took him to Grimmauld Place 12. It felt foreign, and it felt evil. Needless to say, Percy didn’t like the place. Inside, Sirius was waiting for them along with many others. 

When the door opened and shut gently, he knew it was her. For the first time in over twelve years, he’d be allowed with his wife again. The woman he loved and the woman he felt the most solace with. He’d also see the boy that he used to know grown up into a young adult. The young gentleman Sirius always wanted. 

Perseus stood in front of her, Y/n’s hands on his shoulders. Sirius almost chuckled at it. Percy was protecting her even if she didn’t know it herself. He stood in front of her for a reason, to make sure she’d be safe. Sirius stood in front of them, swallowing harshly. 

“Remus, Y/n.” He choked on the last name.

“Good evening Sirius.” Remus greeted politely, “How have you been?”

Sirius shuffled, “I’ve been better.”

Remus hugged him, whispering in his ear, “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Hey, Siri.” Y/n smiled with tears in her eyes, “Hey, love.”

Gently she walked in front of Percy and hugged him tightly. Sirius’ arms went around her waist, and his nose dug into her hair. The scent of her perfume and shampoo calming his nerves slightly. Y/n dug her head into his neck and placed her arms around him. They pulled away and smiled. Gently he kissed her forehead. 

“I’m sorry for believing that you would ever,” She looked down, “You know.”

Sirius picked her chin back up gently, “You have nothing to be sorry for, love.”

Y/n kissed his lips softly. His lips were far from how she remembered. They were no longer soft and tasted of smoke. Instead, they were chapped and tasted of firewhiskey. Perhaps some things never change. Their lips melded together perfectly, just as they did so many years ago. They pulled apart, smiling brightly. She pulled from his embrace to stand by his side. 

“Sirius, this is-“

“Perseus, I know.” 

Perseus smiled nervously; they had the same smile, the same straight smile, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

It was silent for a while as Perseus shuffled, “Are you- are you staying this time?”

“I’d like to.” Sirius replied, “I’m not quite sure the extent of my living abilities, but I’ll be here.”

“I’m- I'm in Slytherin.”

“Okay.”

Perseus looked incredulously, “Okay? That’s all you have to say?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with being in Slytherin.” Sirius stated, “Your heart is in the right place.”

“How would you know?” Percy snapped, “You’ve been gone for most of my life. You don’t know anything about me.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “So you standing in front of your Mather was just a happy accident? You weren’t planning on protecting her. Shall something go wrong?”

Percy looked at the ground, “Someone had to make sure she was safe while you were gone.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“Life isn’t fair!” Percy yelled, “You left us. You don’t realize how badly you hurt her while you were gone.”

Remus walked back into the corridor to see Y/n frozen staring at her son. Sirius was standing in an argumentative stance. Percy’s eyes were filling with tears of frustration as he stared at the man who abandoned him from the start. 

“You left me. You left mum. You left Remus.” Percy cried, “How did you expect this to go, huh?”

Sirius didn’t say anything, “Did you expect me to be happy?! Did you expect me to hug you and fall into your arms?!” Percy shouted, “Because I’m not. I’m not happy, and I’m not going to fall into your arms and hug you like a naive little boy. My mum deserves better than this bullshit.”

“Enough!” Remus snapped, and Percy froze, “Your father is risking his life to be here right now. To meet you. I get it. I wouldn’t be happy either if my father did what Sirius did. But with things, the way they are right now is holding a grudge really that important?”

“N- No, sir.”

“Percy.” Y/n called, and he stared at her with watery eyes as she approached him, “I get it. You’re angry, you’re upset, but he’s still your father. He wants to be here now.”

“B- But he-“

“I know, my love. He’s going to try and make up for it. You don’t have to trust him right away. You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ right away. He isn’t expecting that.” Y/n wiped the tears from his cheeks, “All he’s expecting is his son. The little boy that he last saw.”

Percy looked down, “I know you aren’t that little boy, and I wish you still were. The little boy that used to make me smile and laugh. The little boy that used to cause mischief around the house driving Remus mad.” 

Sirius smiled, “You’re older now, and that will take some getting used to. I know you don’t remember, but Sirius used to be the only one who could get you to stop crying. He used to hold you all night, sleep with you in the rocking chair.”

“Sirius used to babble nonsense to you while I was at work. He used to take you to the park. Make you laugh by turning into a dog.” Percy sniffled, “Back then, Sirius was your everything, baby.”

Percy hugged his mom tight, “I- I’m scared.”

It was only loud enough for her to hear, “Why, baby?”

“What if- what if he leaves again?”

“He’s not going to.” Y/n moved the hair from his face, “Sirius wouldn’t leave us unless he had to.”

Percy knew what that meant. Sirius wouldn’t leave unless he got killed or died. Percy looked at Sirius’ eyes which were filled with tears from recalling the moments of his past. Y/n smiled reassuringly before Percy allowed himself to hug his father. He was wrapping his arms around his stomach, nuzzling his nose into his chest. 

When they pulled apart, Sirius smiled, “You’re my everything, kiddo.”

[astaroth1357]

Hello I really love your writing. I’m glad that you decided to open requests for a bit. I have a personal headcanon that the boys are a lot nicer to MC then they are to everyone else. Could you do a headcanon of the boys being out with MC and they are talking with MC happily. Then a lesser demon sees them with MC and says that the seven brothers have gone weak and they aren’t scared of them anymore. Thank you again!!! 😖 (Also the way you write Levi is great)

Aww thank you!! Levi's kind of my favorite character (if that hasn't become painfully obvious) so I try to write him well, you know? This one was a little hard for me to write because I just have a hard time imagining Asmo and Beel as something intimidating to the masses, but I tried my best! I hope you like it!

Lesser Demons Think the Brothers have "Gone Soft…"

Lucifer

If anybody had something to lose by acting sweet on a lowly human, it was Lucifer. His entire image was built on the back of power and intimidation, so really who didn't see this coming?

He knew there were whispers… Mostly in the RAD hallways. Students would see him with the MC and gossip amongst themselves… 

"Did you see them together again in the courtyard?"

"How did some random human even score a pact with him??"

"And I used to seriously look up to him, too…"

He'd always silence their chitchat with a well placed glare, but this was a symptom of something more… troubling. A decay of his social image if you will.

Perhaps it speaks to how well and truly enamored he was with the MC that this proud creature didn't just dump them the second he started looking bad, but still… a part of him really couldn't stand for this...

So maybe it was a blessing in disguise when he finally got an excuse to establish his superiority yet again!

He and the MC were walking the halls of RAD after school hours and they had just made an amusing joke at the expense of of his brothers. Unfortunately, Lucifer collided into a lesser demon student while he was laughing…

On most occasions, he would have expected someone of such station to pay him deference then offer an apology - they had just ran into Lucifer after all - but the student just scoffed at him!

Lesser Demon: "Oi! Watch where you're going, Lucifer! Or were you too busy sucking up to that human to notice?"

This… was maybe not the best response to have (if the "Oh shit" look on the MC's face was any indication) but for as annoyed as Lucifer was, he was also somewhat delighted.

Finally, he had the perfect messenger for just how cruel he could still be!

Lucifer: "MC, feel free to go home without me for now and tell my brothers to save my dinner for later…" *starts pulling out his favorite rope with a cold, but pleased, smile on his face* "I have a feeling I'll be home late tonight..."

The MC left him and his unfortunate victim to their fate and Lucifer later came home in the night with his uniform in a bad need of cleaning...

A new body decorated the RAD entrance hall the next morning - swinging from the ceiling and making an awful mess on the floor - but still alive enough give a very important message to the rest of the students:

"Lucifer hasn't changed a bit…"

Mammon

So, not even lesser demons see Mammon as some kind of high-ranking badass… 

Just to be clear, he is, but it’s hard for him to come off that way when he's begging for his next Grimm... Then enter MC into the picture and he somehow lost even MORE cred.

"There goes poor Mammon… Did you hear he got tricked into a pact?"

"Just look at him nipping at the human's heels! How pathetic is that??"

"Well that's Mammon for you… What a shit excuse for a demon."

Like Lucifer, Mammon wasn’t immune to the whispers, but unlike his brother he was able to push them mostly out of his mind. People look down on him? Yeah, what else is new?

To be honest, he didn’t really feel the need to prove anything to a bunch of lesser demon losers… But insulting his MC takes things a step too far.

He and the MC were out at the Devil's Coast, "enjoying" some of the haunted house attractions and generally having a good time…ish. 

Any time they managed to make it out of one, the MC would have to peel Mammon off their back and hold him to assure him they were back to safety (a process he seemed to like enough to repeat the horror that precedes it).

It was during one of these calm down sessions that the two were accosted by a couple of snickering lesser demons, clearly looking for a fight…

Lesser Demon 1: "Hey look! There's the 'Great' Mammon and his little master!"

Lesser Demon 2: "Guess the master fits the demon… Of course someone like Mammon couldn't even score a pact with Solomon and gets stuck with the weakling!"

Lesser Demon 1: "Well how's the babysitting going, Mams? I bet you can't wait for them to kill over, can ya?"

Lesser Demon 2: "Careful! With his luck, they'll probably get eaten by the end of next week! Haha!!"

Now… an important thing to know about Mammon is that you can fling all the mud and stones you'd like at him… but never at his MC. That's just asking for a bruising...

Mammon: *smiling like usual, but his eyes are practically burning with rage...* "Yo, MC… I'm gettin' a little hungry. Can ya go find us a snack over there? I'll meet ya in a bit…"

MC: "Mammon, are you-?"

Mammon: "Don’t worry 'bout me, babe." *takes his glasses off and flashes a fanged grin* "This is'a piece of cake."

And indeed, it wasn't difficult at all. No matter how fast those demons ran, they could never out speed Mammon and he was looking to give more than a warning…

The MC didn't know what he did while they were waiting in line, but they heard the sounds of pleading go silent before Mammon turned back up with a nice bruise on his cheek. Oh, how they fretted and dotted on him…

Meanwhile, the haunted houses just earned themselves a couple new mannequins!… when rigor sets in anyway.

Leviathan 

Levi has a… mixed reputation in the Devildom to start with. People who only know him for his titles usually expect him to be some kind of sea-hardened badass. Those who meet him are… well let's say less than impressed.

This isn't anything new to Levi. It does take a blow to his confidence sometimes but even still most people aren't dumb enough to say something to his face… most people.

Unfortunately, "most people" have been getting bolder after seeing him with MC - because Demon Lord forbid Leviathan actually look happy for a change…

He and the MC were out and about for once. There was a raffle for exclusive merch at Anidaemon and he brought them along to boost his chances. They were grinning and chatting about anime but well…

The human couldn’t hear this, but he could - sensitive demon ears and all that. There were a couple guys who were tailing him… heckling him just loud enough that he was CERTAIN they knew he could hear them...

Lesser Demon 1: "Is that seriously Leviathan hanging out with a human? Isn’t he an Admiral??"

Lesser Demon 2: "Ha! The whole family's turned into simps, are you that surprised?"

Lesser Demon 1: "Wonder what the human's giving them that's got them all brainwashed…"

Lesser Demon 2: "Well... I've got an idea." 😏

If there were ever a reason for bile to fill his throat, it was now. He might be a shut-in, but those guys were the real creeps…

To be honest, Levi isn't one for public confrontation. Even with how gross and disrespectful those demons were being, he would have let it slide if they had just left it at that… but no…

He and the MC were browsing the ani-music racks in the store when those idiots popped up again. They hovered a while until they MC suddenly left his side to go find a store clerk.

When he saw the other demons move their direction, he naturally put himself between them and the would-be harassers. It was a little telling that despite his ticked off expression, the demons just laughed in his face!

Lesser Demon 2: "Hey look, the puppy's come out to protect its owner! How cute!"

Lesser Demon 1: "I can't believe you're that predictable, Levi… Do you really think we'd be scared of you?"

Well. That settled it.

When the MC came back, they found that Levi had moved from the music racks to the merch tables near the bathrooms. They didn't think anything of it… but...

One body was paralyzed by his venom and stuffed head first in a toilet while the other getting strangled by his tail just underneath the tablecloth… Meanwhile, Levi was cheerfully rambling about the raffle like nothing was happening at all.

Maybe they should have been a little more scared of the shut-in...

Satan

This may actually be a case where the rumors have a point… The MC has made Satan "soft."

Well, if "soft" means actually in control of himself, anyway. 

Satan would probably call their effect on him both a blessing and a curse. Though he loved finally having a handle on his inner rage, it flew in the face of a lot of his public image… and people were starting to notice….

"Do you think there's something off about Satan…?"

"I saw the human step on his toes earlier and he didn't even flinch…! The old Satan would have torn them apart!!"

"He's gotten way too nice all of sudden… Wrath shouldn't be nice."

Was it a little frustrating? Certainly. Especially for someone as image conscious as him. But for as calm as he was now, Satan wasn’t any less cruel and he'd be more than happy to remind others of that fact….

His chance came when he and the MC were together having just left the local art gallery. The two were exchanging a healthy dialogue about a curious sculpture they saw on display when a latte suddenly went soaring through the air and ended up all over Satan's sweater… The culprit was plain to see, being the only other demon on the road that night.

Whether the act was intentional or not, the correct course of action would have been to apologize immediately and beg for mercy forgiveness… but all the demon did was laugh in his face…

Maybe he thought that since Satan had mellowed out and his human was right beside him that he'd be lenient… Oh no. Not gonna happen.

Satan's fist slammed into the guy's mouth with the force of a jetliner and knocked him over two benches before his back bent over a lamppost… To say it was a KO move would be an understatement.

He probably could have done a whole lot worse to the guy while he was down, but you know… the MC being there and "self-control" and what not…

The demon survived (barely) and only had to spend a few months in the hospital, if anything he got off light.

Not a soul would gloss over Satan's temper again and really he preferred it that way.

Asmodeus 

Well, to be fair not a lot of people thought that Asmo was tough to start with… but that's also his intention.

"Scary" is the opposite of "cute" and he prefers to be "cute" at all times! 😊

Buuut that doesn’t mean this scorpion is without a stinger. He CAN be quite brutal when he wants to be, you just have to push him that far and trashing his looks is a good way to start.

Asmo was out with the MC getting his hair done for the week at his favorite salon. They weren't the only people there that day, obviously. There were other customers - one being a lesser demon classmate of theirs - though neither he nor the MC thought much of him at the time...

Well… It was supposed to be a prank. Probably something the guy intended to use for social media clout. While the staff was too busy to notice, he snuck by and replaced Asmo's preferred conditioner with pink hair dye…

Asmo. Was. Furious. And honestly, the dude could have gotten away with it if he hadn't been laughing and recording the whole thing!

When Asmo's ire naturally fell onto him, he hardly looked fazed!

Lesser Demon: "Ah, please! You won't do shit to me with the human still around! You don't want to look any uglier to them do ya?"

Asmo: *freezes, but still furiously eyeing every sharp instrument within arm’s reach* "MC? Darling?"

MC: "Got it..."

Perhaps the prankster should have kept his mouth shut, because suddenly the MC needed to take a looong bathroom break…

They didn't come back out until they heard the sounds of screeching and broken glass finally die down and then they stepped back into a warzone… Broken mirrors and items seemingly flung everywhere in a fit of rage! The guy (and his phone) now nowhere to be seen…

The salon comped Asmo for the botched hair job and touch up… and then billed Lucifer for the property damage (which he got an earful about later). On the bright side though, Asmo actually looks pretty great with pink hair! Silver-linings. 🙂

Beelzebub 

… The concept of Beel "going soft" is almost an oxymoron. He IS soft, but his personality was never what made him intimidating to start with.

Behind all his kindness, Beel packs more firepower than at least 4 for his siblings combined and most people remember that fact. Hell, the guy looks like he could lift a semi and he probably would if he ever tried. 

However, that doesn’t save him from being underestimated completely... Especially when an upstart or two thinks he's too nice to actually start a fight...

He and the MC were coming back from the grocery store with the usual armfuls of sacks when the MC accidentally walked into a lesser demon on the street. Since their arms were full, several items spilled out from the bags and onto the ground…

The MC was quick to apologize to the demon and try to get down to clean the mess, but the asshole just kept walking… and Beel really didn't like that.

Beel: "Hey! Aren't you going to say, 'Sorry?'"

The lesser demon hardly looked over his shoulder to respond.

Lesser Demon: "Why should I? That's your human. Take care of them yourself."

Well it didn't take long for some of Beel's bags to hit the floor so he could lift the demon up by the back of the neck properly. When he turned the guy to face him, he made sure to bring his face reeaal close so he could hear him growl...

Beel: "Apologize. Or I'll eat you."

And like that, the asshole's mood went from "Do it yourself," to "Yessir Mr. Beelzebub, sir!" right quick!

The MC didn't have to carry a single bag another step and Beel got to keep his free hand so he could link it with theirs!... all while Beel kept mushing their new pack-mule forward like a sled dog back to the House. Thanks, Beel! 😊

Belphegor 

Kind of similar to Asmo, Belphie prefers to come off as unassuming on most days. But don't let his, "I'm a harmless sleepy boy" shtick fool you. He will cut a bitch if he's so motivated...

Thankfully for the world, he's generally not motivated. But that can be changed under the right circumstances...

Belphie and the MC were on yet another date to the botanical gardens. It's a peaceful place, though the MC can never go alone because of the frankly concerning amount of flesh-eating plants… Pretty, but also deadly, you know?

The two of them were walking to another rest spot when Belphie heard whispering from a demon behind them, seemingly on his phone…

Lesser Demon: “Yeah, I can see them right now…”

Lesser Demon: “I know right? It's so lame that these guys are in charge of us… They can't even say no to a dumb human!”

Lesser Demon: “What do you mean keep my voice down? Dude, it's fine! This is Belphegor we're talking about, the hell is he going to do if he hears me?”

… Huh.

The answer to the man's question was a simple one. Flash into his demon form for just a moment and whip out his tail... It only took a quick swipe to make him trip and fall right into the foliage. The man-eating… carnivorous… hungry… foliage….

Belphie was back to normal by the time the jerk let out his first scream and the MC almost stopped to see what had happened.

MC: "What the-oh my God!! Should we help-??”

Belphie: *puts his hands on their shoulders to keep them moving, not even glancing back* “Someone else will take care of it. Let's see the roses.”

Even when the desperate cries for help became distant, it took all Belphie had to stifle a smile…

Sometimes, you've got to love irony. 🤷‍♀️😏

[hansensgirl]

push it to the limit.

summary. | As he watches you ogle the man who would pop champagne moments before touching heaven, he puts his foot on the gas pedal and his hand on one of the levers, ready to push it to the limit. Maybe this time, you’ll finally notice him.

warnings. | Non/Dubcon, watersports, obsessive behaviour, coercion, bribery, dark themes, drinking (champagne), hate fucking, unprotected sex, rough sex, public sex, dumbification, degradation, dirty talk, humiliation, breeding kink, choking, allusions to anal, reader is really rude (so is Niki), *sexism/misogyny/paying for sex (see a/n), and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 8.4k

pairings. | Dark!Niki Lauda x Reader, James Hunt x Reader (it’s one-sided).

author’s note. | please enjoy, and please don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. *he talks about paying you for sex as a way to degrade you, it’s brief and in german! it does not reflect anything about me or my blog. we are pro-sex work here! it’s just fiction.

“Look! There he is!” a small voice tells you, pointing somewhere with a great distance. You’re not sure how he manages to spot his favourite racer from so far. Among the sea of heads, your younger brother sits on your shoulders. You can feel him touching you down to your bones, and you try to ignore the pain just for him. “You sure? You said that five times before, y’know,” you denote, and you hear the six-year-old groan. “Yes, I’m sure! Look, he’s drinking that nasty stuff like always,” he adds, and you realize he’s talking about James’s signature champagne.

“It’s not nasty,” you mumble under your breath, remembering the way the pleasant liquid felt and tasted against your tongue. Sticky gold is what you’d describe it as, and you recall how it stained your skin. Shaky hands are bound to tremor even more under pressure, and your friend is an absolute clutz. It’s no wonder she made such a mess, as it is one of her best traits. But a particular pair of hands that seemed to have Midas’s touch cleaned you up, and you still to this day wish you were awake to thank them. You have many regrets, but that’s just a small one.

“Can we go closer to the fence? I want to try and talk to him,” your brother politely requests, and you let out a heavy sigh. Your mouth is pressed in a line, and you begin to shift your feet. You’ve got boots made of suede, a brown colour that always seems to go best with your all-black outfits. There’s a matching jacket on you as well, and it has fur on the cuffs and collar.

“What’s the marvel of watching it in person rather than watching it on television? Out here, we struggle so much, and you can barely even watch them properly. On the television, well, you see it all, and you can be as comfortable as you want,” you wonder out loud, and the child holds onto you tightly. He squeezes your head tightly, and the ribbon in your hair begins to fall in your face. It’s white silk, with a lovely hem to it. You save it for these races your sibling always wants to go to. Your other coloured ones are left for daily excursions, and sometimes a good party, too.

“Excuse me!” you loudly call out, and other women cast you nasty glares. You’ve seen those same looks one too many times, and you don’t pay any mind to them. If they truly care about their spots, they’d stand up and fight for them. But they’re just like babies with a piece of candy in their tiny fists. Maybe a jellybean, or perhaps even a pack of those oh so enjoyable Sour Patch Kids. “Why do you like only him?” you ask, raising both your eyebrows as you get closer to the fence. “I like James and Niki!” he exclaims loudly, and you loop your fingers between the holes of the fence.

“Niki? As in Niki Lauda? That arrogant, Austrian asshole?” you question in shock, not minding your foul language at all. “Yes! The guy that Dad hates. He’s cool, and he’s fast,” he explains, rolling his eyes. “Honestly? There’s nothing cool about him. He’s just… fast. James is the cool one,” you argue, and you can hear him groaning. “You like James Hunt because he looked at you that one time,” he snaps back in annoyance, and you sigh dreamily in remembrance. “Exactly! Now I need to look for Niki, I wanna say hi to him!” your brother exclaims, and your eyes scan the entrance area for Niki Lauda.

“Don’t just say hi to him; ask him for an autograph! We can sell it to one of his fans afterwards. They’re always dying for anything of his,” you propose, and your brother simply ignores the swindling ways that you’ve inherited from your grandfather since you were a kid. It’s the reason why you tend to find purses with deep pockets and smooth zippers that don’t pinch on the inner fabric. You reach into your bag, and you grab a marker that you’ve always got with you.

The crowd gets louder and louder, almost as if you’ve got headphones on your head and you want to turn down the volume, but you keep hitting the wrong button. A woman shrieks in your left ear, and a man whoops in the other. More bodies press against you, and with the marker in between two of your digits, you hope that you don’t return home with billions of bruises. On the big screen, recaps from the previous races are being played. It’s win after win, all on behalf of Niki Lauda and his incredible luck that doesn’t seem to have any end.

You’re finally able to make out what people are screaming; the curly-haired man’s name. “Niki! I love you!” they all shout, and you wonder if any of them like James. It seems like you haven’t found your people, and maybe just for today, you’re the odd one out. “Seems like you’re not the only one that has Niki amongst their favourites,” you grumble, and your brother lets out a giggle. A few moments later, he sits up far more proper on your shoulders. The hand with the marker in it grabs onto one of his legs, and you make sure he doesn’t fall down and ends up being the true loser of this race.

“Niki! I’m your biggest fan!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, using his full voice and then some. You look over to the entrance, and you spot the brooding Austrian wrapped in red walking out with a deep frown on his face. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but your brother doesn’t care about your deep annoyance towards his idol. Niki shoots a look over to where you’re both standing, and your brother waves his arms from side to side, trying to get the racer’s attention. Even if he doesn’t, you have a feeling that Niki will be more displeased than anything.

It only makes sense, as he always acts that way with his fans though they’re the only people who appreciate him.

His nose is upturned, and he tries to pinpoint your brother and his powerful screams. High-pitched yet so loud, it’s no wonder why his tantrums are the root for almost all household headaches. “He’s looking over here,” you tell him, and your brother nods. “Yeah, because of me! He’s going to come, and I’m going to meet him!” he squeals, somehow connecting none existent dots to fuel a form of hope that dwindles inside him. You can be mean, but you’re not cruel. So you won’t be a realist, and you’ll let the youth on your shoulders believe what he wants to think.

“And when you meet him, ask him to sign something,” you advise, not letting go of your chance to make a few hundred dollars. He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s pondering whether or not he should do it. “Niki! I love you!” the woman next to you screams as if she’s using every bit of her energy to get him to notice her. Your head already starts to ache just a bit, and you wish you brought some form of a pain killer. Niki saunters over to the fence, and for some reason, you don’t feel proper behind the fence.

It’s the way he carries himself with the highest of heads, a sort of confidence dragging with his every step. He knows he can do anything right now, and everybody except you would love him for it. He could make an entire turn and not greet his fans, and they’ll laugh it off. You’ve witnessed his haughtiness, and there’s no doubt inside you that you’ll see it again. “Niki! Good luck on the race!” a person says, and the rest of the crowd laughs at them.

“Dude, he doesn’t need your luck,” someone next to them says before elbowing the poor fan’s ribs. You can hear them wince in pain before they start to scream at the racer once again. Niki raises his hands up to his chest, almost as if he’s surrendering to something. That bratty smirk of his is replaced by a cheerful smile, and while everyone adores it, you see right through the façade. “Hello, everyone!” he greets, and you already want to roll your eyes until they fall back into your skull.

Niki stands right in front of you, and you try to look somewhere other than his face. Your view darts wildly until you finally settle on looking at the exceptionally boring asphalt underneath your feet. The screaming quiets down, and you wonder if everything is okay. “Uhm, Mr. Niki Lauda? I love you! I’m such a big fan! I watch all of your races, and I try to go to them all! Can I have an autograph?” your brother gleefully expresses, and you snap your head up at his words.

Much to your dismay, you lock gazes with the man you hate most in this entire stadium. His eyes are rather dull, yet they’ve got a sort of darkness in them that makes you feel just a tad bit uneasy. Both begrudgingly and excitedly, you hand the marker to your brother, who, in turn, gives it to his idol. Niki takes it gratefully, and he raises his least dominant hand. The other fans try to reach for it, for him. But he ignores them, and he gives a high-five to your brother.

You can’t hear the sound of their palms meeting because the displeasure of the crowd drowns it all out. “What do you want me to write it on?” Niki questions, taking the cap off of the marker. “Uhm, my shirt?” he offers, stretching the red fabric towards the elder. You observe as the racer awkwardly signs his name on your brother’s clothing, and you know that your Mother is going to be more than angry. Your Father, on the other hand, will be filled with pride and excitement.

“Thank you so much!” the child squeals, and Niki simply waves his hand as if it was no big deal to him. But you know that deep down inside, he was probably a bit annoyed. “Do you want an autograph, Miss?” Niki asks, and you take note of how his demeanour has changed. His features are softer, and his eyes seem to be lit up. “Oh, uh, no, thank you. I’m waiting for James. I love him a lot,” you tell him, pushing your shoulders back in confidence. The people around you let out gasps, and they follow their sounds up with whispers that aren’t so hushed.

Niki’s face drops, and you give him your fakest smile. He stares at you, almost as if he wants to lash out and scream. Maybe even call you a name or two. “That’s alright,” he assures after a while, and you have the urge to say something snarky. He hands the marker back to your brother, who is too busy being in awe of his favourite racer to listen to you being on your worst behaviour. Niki walks off, but this time, his stride lacks his boldness. “He’s so cool!” your brother squeals, staring at the Sharpie. You sigh, knowing that you two will constantly butt heads over Niki.

“Well, I beg to disagree.”

“Niki! Is everything okay?” one of the mechanics asks, and the star nods his head mindlessly. Instead of pressing him for some sort of answer, he leaves Niki alone to mull all by himself. There is not one person who dares to talk to him before the race unless it has to do with the car or the competition itself. It’s out of pure fear because nobody likes to face the Austrian’s wrath. From screaming way too loudly to piercing, uncomfortable stares, he never knows how to properly communicate with others.

He gazes at you from just a few mere metres away. His eyes are like ice, and he hopes you can feel the coldness from where you are. He really fucking hopes you do. You’ve got that sultry look to you, and it’s not cast towards him. No, it isn’t at all, and it irks him all the way to his bones. You ogle James fucking Hunt. Of all the other inferior racers there, you choose to admire James, and Niki hates you both for that. At every single race, he’s seen you show up to, you never look at him.

You don’t acknowledge him at all. It doesn't just hurt his ego; it also breaks his heart. Your preference and love for the Englishman injure those butterflies inside Niki’s stomach, and yet they still continue to flutter. The funniest, most ironic part of everything is that the races you attend always end with Niki being the winner. Never James. But you still idolize him over the Austrian, and he’s tired of it.

“Make sure it goes fast, okay? Fast, but nothing should catch on fire or malfunction,” Niki tells his technicians, and they halt what they’re doing. “But, Sir-” one of them starts, and Niki closes his fist for them. “No,” he simply states before crossing his arms once again. Niki looks back over to you, and you’ve now got a smile on your face. He loves the sight, but he knows his adoration will turn sour in a few seconds once he follows your line of gaze. So he chooses not to, and he decides to use you as his motivation.

The racers all go to their cars, and they pull their helmets on. Some are dressed in black, some in white, and only two in red. James and Niki. Niki is surrounded by his team, and James has twice the number of people next to him. Along with mechanics are girls in short skirts with jackets similar to yours. Deep down, you wish you could switch places with one of them, but maybe it isn’t as good as it seems to be. Perhaps your spot behind the fence with your younger sibling is what’s meant for you.

Your neck is more than exhausted. Your shoulders have a unique pain to them, one that not even doctors can begin to describe. Your bones are in desperate need of a crack, and your muscles crave a lengthy stretch that’ll leave you shaking. Yet, you continue to stand there with no complaints ready to fly off your tongue. The whooping behind you is so loud, but you’ve gotten used to it. “C’mon, Niki! You can do it!” your brother cries out, clapping his hands in excitement.

Niki flashes a thumbs up, and he looks at you one last time. As he watches you ogle the man who would pop champagne moments before touching heaven, he puts his foot on the gas pedal and his hand on one of the levers, ready to push it to the limit. Maybe this time, you’ll finally notice him. Perhaps this time, you’ll realize he’s the best racer there is. He takes a deep breath, and he reassures himself that he’ll win as always.

“I have a feeling Niki is going to win this one,” the lady next to you says, and her friends nod their heads in utter agreement. You want to ask why she thinks that, but you’ve already left a bad taste in the crowd’s mouth. “Do you think Niki will win?” you ask your brother, looking up at him as best as you can. “I think so, but maybe James will surprise us!” he predicts, and you nod your head. “I hope James wins,” you whisper under your breath. Your bottom lip falls victim to your teeth, and you gnaw on it out of stress.

You keep your sights on James, and occasionally, you glance at Niki. Perhaps it’s simply just morbid curiosity that’s eating at you because there’s no way you’d just casually look at a man you despise with all your heart. As all the racers go to their designated spots in their cars, excitement fills your stomach. But it’s mixed with fear, as anything can go wrong at these tracks, and that’s the last thing you want to happen. You get lost in your thoughts, thinking about all possibilities.

Who will win? Who will get hurt? Who will get angry? Who will become sad? You ask yourself all these questions that don’t truly matter much to your life, and yet you still try to find an answer inside of you.

Suddenly, the sound of engines revving and then taking off fills your ears. Screams follow them up, and you realize that the race has started. You wait until every single car leaves your view before looking at the scoreboard. You can’t bear to watch them risk their lives while you stand not so comfortably yet safe behind a fence. “Oh my God! James is in the first place!” you squeal like a kid in a candy store, and your brother claps.

Some of the people around you cheer for James, and others for Niki. But you ignore them, and you simply focus on what the orangish-yellow neon lights say. Some names switch spots rapidly, perhaps too quickly for you to keep up with. But you stay trained on the upper two; I. HUN, II. LAU. The former stays on top for most of the race, and the latter switches with him every now and then. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” you nervously mumble, hoping that the Englishman stays on top.

“Seems like your favourite is going to win,” the known lady cleverly smirks, and you give her the side-eye. “Yes, because he’s good at what he does,” you confidently agree, hoping that you won’t have to eat your words in the next few minutes. She chuckles before shaking her head. “No wonder you don’t like Niki Lauda,” she expresses, shaking her head practically in some form of awe. “What are you talking about?” you annoyingly press, already growing tired of whatever conversation she’s trying to make.

“You’re both egotistical and full of yourselves. You do it because that’s who you are, and Niki does it for his own reasons, like pure enjoyment. It’s so obvious for you to dislike him because he’s a reflection of you, and you hate that,” she states, proud of herself for whatever reasons. “That’s dumb, and so are you. He does it because that’s who he is. I do it because I don’t like some people—such as yourself—and because I have plenty of reasons to be prideful. Not egotistical,” you snap, and she raises her hands as if she’s surrendering.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

Your mood has turned absolutely irritable, and the bitterness has claimed you entirely. You realize that you haven’t checked the places since before speaking to the lady, and you get excited. Flicking your head up, you expect to have your preferred person’s name at the very top, but instead, you see the name of the one and only Niki Lauda. I. LAU, II. HUN. “No, no, no!” you panic, watching as James stays in second place. None of the names change places at all, and you find yourself to be absolutely crushed. “Yes, yes, yes!” the crowd cheers and your face has fallen in disappointment.

Niki’s name gets announced, and everyone is absolutely elated. Everyone apart from you. Your brother celebrates the win from his high spot, and everybody jumps for joy. You stay silent, and you try your hardest to not swallow your pride. Each driver gets out of their cars slowly, and they congratulate the Austrian with smiles on their faces. You stare at him callously before you notice that James is still grinning. Despite not winning entirely, he never actually lost. So there’s no reason for you to be so dull and gloomy.

He walks off with his posse of men and women, and you realize maybe it’s time for you to head home as well. “So, your favourite won,” you say to your brother, and he giggles. “Yep! And yours lost!” he jokes, and you let out a forced giggle. “Yeah, yeah,” you brush off, making your way through the energetic body of people you strongly dislike.

Niki is engulfed in overly suffocating hugs. Some hands shake him, and some even slap him on the back, not so lightly. He doesn’t know which pairs belong to which bodies, and yet he goes with them all anyway. “You did great, Niki!” one voice praises. “Yeah, great job, Niki!” another adds. He thanks everybody in one sentence, and he pulls away once they start to mingle amongst themselves. The fantastic win of his isn’t what’s on his mind. It’s the thing that’s been etched and burned into his brain for him to think about, even though it should be appreciated now.

No. You’re what’s on Niki’s mind, and he has no intention of letting you leave.

He looks over at the swarm of heads that may have drowned you, and he can’t find you there. Not one trace of you is left behind, and his blood boils. Do you truly hate him to the point where you can’t even stay back for a few more seconds? Niki swears in Austrian under his breath, and he frustratingly walks over to the crowd. Fingers that aren’t yours reach out for him, and he ignores them all. “Have any of you seen that woman with the little boy on her shoulders?” he angrily questions, cracking his knuckles in anticipation.

His heart is still clamouring wildly in his chest, practically beating against him to be let out. “Uhm, she just left… She went that way! But I could easily replace her if you want…” a woman flirts, and Niki completely ignores her words after he gets what he wants. He leaves abruptly, and they are still yelling after him. “So eine verdammte Schlampe. Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dir eine Lektion zu erteilen, du hast darum gebettelt, seit ich dich gesehen habe,” he grumbles, walking through the crowded entrance.

Niki emerges with perseverance and even more anger than before. He searches through the sea of racing enthusiasts, and he spots you being bent over. It’s a wildly lewd position for you to be in, and Niki finds himself feeling flushed and displeased at the way you let others leer at you. He should be the only one to see you that way, nobody else. The Austrian wants to storm his way to you, to grab you and drag you somewhere more private so that he can put you in your place, but he knows the current setting isn’t right.

“Uhm, Mr. Lauda? Would you like a drink in honour of your win? It’ll be on us!” a shy waitress offers, appearing out of nowhere. He jumps in fear, but he quickly calms down. “Well…” he ponders, even though he’s not a fan of drinking after a race. In a trice, the lightbulb in his brain goes off. It shines brightly, and a clever idea starts to nag him. “Do you, uh, mind doing me a favour? I’ll even pay you extra,” he quickly prompts, and the waitress smirks. “Sure!” she agrees, carefully balancing the glasses on her tray.

“I need you to take all these glasses—maybe add some more champagne and make sure they’re really full—to that person over there,” he instructs, pointing to where you are. He watches as you wave to your family, who drives off without you. “The one with the brown jacket?” she double checks, and he nods in assurance. “Yeah, that one. Take them to her, and tell her they’re from someone who adores her and her love for champagne quite a bit,” Niki directs while trying to hold in a villain-like laugh.

“Ok! Then I just leave?” she asks, tilting her head innocently. “Yes. And don’t mention my name or anything about me at all,” he adds quickly before placing a hundred-dollar bill on the tray. The waitress slips it into her pocket before walking to where you’re standing idly. Niki watches the innocent worker make her way towards you until he realizes he should hide away before she makes a mistake.

“Excuse me, ma’am? Hi, I have something for you,” a waitress tells you, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I- What? I never ordered anything, I think you have the wrong person,” you tell her, turning your back and facing elsewhere. “No! I have the right person. They said they’re someone who adores you and your love for champagne!” she gleefully clarifies, and only one person comes to mind. James. You let out an excited, eager gasp. One that can’t be rivalled by any of Niki’s fans from his win.

She hands you the two full glasses, and you can just tell that the golden liquid is of high quality. You get drunk quickly, perhaps a little too easily. But that’s never stopped you from enjoying yourself at all. “Thank you so much! Oh, and I’m sorry for being rude at first,” you softly whisper to her, and she simply waves you away. “No worries,” she reassures, and she walks off before you can finish your first glass.

Tilting your head back, you bring the first flute to your mouth and you down everything it has to offer in just a few gulps. The drink slides down your throat with such ease. It’s brut, and it has a sort of bitter yet sweet taste to it. Sighing, you smack your lips and take whatever is left of the first glass gratefully. You then switch the glasses around with shaky yet skillful hands. “Thank you, James, for being such a lovely guy,” you murmur to yourself, dragging out the last letters of each word.

The alcohol quickly settles inside you, and it starts to distort you as always. Blurry eyes and a hazy mind, you’ve turned into a drunken mess in a matter of a few seconds. You slowly sip on your second and last glass before your temptations grow tired of your sluggishness. You down the entire thing until there’s a small drop at the bottom that just won’t budge. You let out a tiny sound of amazement, and you find yourself wanting to have some more. You lick your lips, trying to search for a slight hint of the sort of melon flavour until it goes away.

“Uhm? Does anyone know where that waitress went?” you ask loudly, and those who hear you shake their heads ‘no.’ “Damn,” you frustratingly mutter, lightly stomping your foot against the concrete. You roll your head backwards, in both a stretch and a habit. Your mind feels heavy, but your bones and muscles are even more burdensome. You bring your skull back to its normal position, and you decide to go look for her. Stumbling clumsily, you walk back into the dreaded arena where everyone is still celebrating Niki Lauda’s victory.

Niki watches you amongst a crowd of fans who are trying to form some sort of discussion with him. They hound him with all kinds of questions, some about the race itself and some about the esteemed racer and his personal life. Like a hunter stalking his prey, his eyes stay trained on you until you disappear behind the red door that leads to rooms that only named people are allowed to go to. “So, what are you going to do now, Mr. Lauda? How are you going to celebrate?” one of them asks, with a sort of sultry tone to their voice that he fails to notice.

“I have plans with a friend of mine for tonight,” he briefly states before pushing through them and following you into the stadium. “Can I join?” another asks, and he simply ignores them as they call after Niki with even more curiosity. It’s not hard to spot someone in bright red overalls suddenly walking into somewhere he shouldn’t be, but it’s easy to pay no mind to him because he’s a champion and most people who see him aren’t.

“Where, where, where are you, kleine Maus?” he hauntingly calls out, and his voice echoes back. Niki can hear the sound of your shoes clicking against the ground, and he decides to follow it. He tries his hardest to calm his heart down, but it’s hard to both hold your breath and make sure you’re not nearing cardiac arrest. The racer quickens the paces of his feet, practically jogging towards you as you decide to turn around and forget about the champagne.

Your jacket slips off your shoulders as you whip your body around, and suddenly, you’re pushed against a wall. The brick is painted over with a sort of cream colour. You begin to panic as strong hands keep you from fighting your attacker. “Du bellst wohl nicht nur, kleine Maus,” he notes out loud, and you don’t understand a word of what he’s saying. The voice is familiar, though, except for the fact it’s a few octaves deeper than you last heard.

“Niki?” you question, halting your flailing fists and restless legs. “Yes, kleine Maus?” the man questions and your jaw drops in shock. “What the fuck?! Are you insane? Get off of me!” you scream loudly, and his hopes of getting you still begin to die like a flower in the wintertime. Niki grabs ahold of your wrists in his dominant hand, and he swiftly turns you around and stomps on your ankles. “Help!” you cry out, but his other hand presses your face against the wall.

“Shut up, shut the fuck up,” he orders in your ear, pushing your white ribbon out of your face. You listen to him, but you disobey his commands at the same time. Writhing around, you try to escape the claws that squeeze you tightly, and you fail miserably. “Cute. Now stop fighting me, or else I’ll hurt you so badly you wouldn’t be able to go to anyone for help,” he threatens, and you gulp thickly in fear. Your saliva tastes of alcohol still, and you regret ever coming to the race.

“Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard. All you need to do is listen to me,” Niki instructs, talking down to you like you’re some child who doesn’t know any better. “Why?” you choke out through gritted teeth. Your cheekbones rub against the brick, and the pain is gruesome. “Because I need to put you in your place. Do you seriously think you can just mouth off to me like that? To disrespect me like that? To prefer that pathetic racer over me?” he asks, and you let out a whimper. Each of his words sinks into you like needles filled with anesthesia.

They numb your mind until you realize what’s really happening, but by then, it’s too late.

“Well, obviously, I prefer James over you! Look at you, you’re rude, and you’re a horrible, shitty person. Now get off of me!” you lash out, even though your body doesn’t move. Niki simply laughs like a maniac, and you find yourself wanting to take back your words. “Maybe I’m so rude because I like you. Like how little boys tease little girls when they have crushes. You do know what a crush is, right? Just making sure since you’re so cold-hearted. Bet you don’t know anything other than hatred,” he spits, and you’re pretty offended.

“I know what you’re talking about! I’ve had feelings for people, okay?” you bite back, and Niki becomes curious. “Really? Let me guess. James Hunt? Some old boyfriend of yours? A man at a party who cleaned you up because you don’t know how to take care of yourself?” the Austrian questions, and you don’t realize who he’s talking about until you look at his hands. They’re the same as those gracious ones, except they’re more rough and lack gentleness. “That was you?” you ask, and you’ve lost all fight in your body at the realization.

“Well, of course, kleine Maus. Someone had to watch your back, and that someone is me! Du bist nicht so klug, wie du dich selbst darstellst, ganz ehrlich. But that’s okay, it’ll be okay. It’ll be just alright now that I’m here to put you in your place,” he reassures you, and you don’t even have the energy to ask him what he means. “Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I’ve learnt my lesson now, can you let me go? I won’t tell anyone, Sir, I promise!” you plea and your words start to blur into one another.

“I don’t think you’re sorry, kleine Maus. I need to do what’s necessary because I’m fucking tired of you and your bullshit,” Niki snaps, and you whimper from the harsh tone of his words. His change in behaviour gives you whiplash, and you realize that there’s no way out of whatever he has planned for you. “So careless, so mean, so ignorant… So clumsy. I guess you aren’t as independent or as strong as you claim to be,” he whispers, and he causes tears to sting your almost empty eyes. They hurt, and they carry such maliciousness to them that you can’t help but be terrified of Niki.

A hand comes up to the waist of your jeans. They flare out at the bottom, and well, they look pretty damn good on you. But maybe a little too good because they make Niki think wild thoughts. He expertly takes the buttons out of their holes, and he unzips your rusted zipper. “P- Please, Niki,” you beg one last time, but Niki ignores you. He pulls down your pants against your protests, and he lets them get tangled with your tired feet. Your bare ass is exposed to the cool air of the arena, and goosebumps begin to rise on your skin.

“Such a lovely ass, kleine Maus. Maybe I should fuck it instead of doing what I had planned. Would you like that?” Niki politely asks, and your eyes nearly fall out of your skull. “N- No, thank you, Niki,” you shakily reject, and he nods. “You see, unlike you, I’m not so mean. So I’ll spare you, but only this once,” he cheerfully tells you, acting as if you’re supposed to start jumping up and down at his words. The closest thing to gratitude he’ll ever get from you is silence.

Niki still has a tight grip on your hands, and with your legs now immobilized from the mess by your feet, you can’t do much to save yourself. He wraps his arm around your waist, and he grabs at the crotch of your panties with no care at all. The cotton bunches up, and his fingers graze lightly against your folds. You try to ignore his touch, but he does the opposite and forces you to focus on it. He’s frozen, and you’re waiting for his next malevolent move. You can hear his heavy breathing, and he angles his digits upwards so he can touch you even more.

You press a fist against the wall, and you try to brace yourself as best as you can. Unexpectedly, a fierce pain strikes you in your hips, and it hurts more than you can describe. His hand has left you, and you can feel the air breeze against your pussy. Your panties are on the floor, ripped into a shred of fabric that no longer has any good use other than reminding you of how you could’ve avoided this entire situation. “I’ll get you better ones, don’t worry,” he reassures you in a humorous manner, and you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance.

Instead of having your hips jut out for easy access, he pushes your torso against the wall until there’s a pressure inside your stomach. Instead of pain, it’s a sort of tingling sensation that makes your eyes bulge out in shock. “Uhm...” you hesitate, and his ears perk up. “What is it?” he frustratingly asks you, and his harsh tone snivelling. “N- Nevermind,” you mumble, and you just try to take deep breaths. “Are you ever going to shut up?” Niki questions as his other hand skillfully unzips his red overalls.

He’s wearing a simple pair of shorts and a t-shirt for the hot weather and occasional coolness. You keep quiet, not sure if you should answer him or not. Niki grumbles in another language that you don’t understand, and you realize that no matter what you do, you’ll always make him angry. Even your begging doesn’t bring you any fruits of labour. Only disappointment.

His shorts join the pile of clothing on the ground, many colours clashing that leave his eyes to be sore. Sunset pink panties, pale blue jeans, vibrant red overalls, and black shorts. It’s a fashionista’s worst nightmare. His hard cock is left in his boxers, and he’s just too impatient to fully undress. He throbs out of want and need, with a swollen tip that leaks with pre-cum. “I know this isn’t so… What’s the word you people use? ...Ah, romantic! I know this isn’t so romantic, but it’s not supposed to be. I’m the only one who’s supposed to enjoy this, not you. So I don’t care if you want to fake a smile or anything like that, all you need to do is not say anything,” he explains, and you nod your head.

“O- Okay, Niki,” you assure, and he lets out a groan that is followed by his tongue clicking against his pearly teeth. “Dumb whore,” he spits, and his hand wraps around your throat. You’re inebriated beyond belief, and you don’t realize he can crush your windpipe in a split second until he whispers in your ear. “Can’t do one thing right, can you?” he retorts. The grip he has on your wrists suddenly loosens up, but you’re too sluggish to fight him. And even if you try, you’ll end up a pathetic loser with even less honour than before.

The fat tip of his large cock presses against your mildly slick pussy. “You’re already wet for me, kleine Maus! Oh, such a whore. You say you don’t want this, yet your little cunt is telling me otherwise. Maybe you should use it to think instead of your empty brain. You’d end up in better places if you did so,” he advises, and you try to tune him out. But he’s like an alarm that just won’t stop until you do something, and yet, you’re helpless. “Ich kann es kaum erwarten, dich zu meiner Hure zu machen. Wie viel verlangen Sie? Einen Dollar? So oder so, du wirst von mir gefickt werden,” Niki snickers, and you have a feeling his words lack kindness.

But who the hell are you to worry about kindness?

Niki pushes his hips forward as his cock slowly sheathes itself inside of your tight pussy. The way you hug him makes him moan immediately, and he wonders if he’s the first you’ve ever had. “Jesus Fucking Christ, you’re so right, kleine Maus,” he groans, slowly bottoming out inside of you. You’re biting down on your wobbly bottom lip, trying your hardest to keep quiet and not let out any cries. The pain is searing. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever felt, and it ingrains itself into your mind until it’s all but an illusion. You’re practically about to be torn in half from his cock, and you’re at an impasse.

The racer curses as his balls rest against your ass, heavy and swollen. He’s deep inside you, filling you up until you’re bursting and you don’t know what to focus on; the pressure in your stomach that just seems to grow with each passing second, or the pain that leisurely turns into pleasure you’ll be addicted to? Everything is so much all at once. “Feel that, kleine Maus? Do you feel how deep inside you I am? Good, because you’ll have to get used to it,” he tells you, and you writhe around.

“So desperate already…” he whispers, watching as you can’t stand still at all. Niki’s hand leaves the base of his cock, as he thrusts his hips forward to elicit a reaction from you. He holds onto you tightly, and your body jerks from his movement. Your swollen stomach is pushed further against the wall, much to your dismay. You let out a gasp, and you try to close your legs as much as Niki will let you. He chuckles before he drags his cock backwards. His tip is the only thing inside you, and he suddenly begins to pump into you roughly. “Oh my God,” you whimper quietly, and your words are drowned out by the sound of skin against skin.

He thrusts up into you at a quick pace, one that your fingers or past lovers could never rival. It seems as though he’s fast when it comes to almost anything. “Die beste Muschi, die ich je hatte,” Niki whispers. Your pussy slickens up as he fucks you, coating him with your sticky wetness. The sight is something to behold, and his cock slips in and out of you with each thrust. “Make some pretty noises, kleine Maus. I want to hear how much of a slut you are for my cock,” he demands, and a loud moan moves past your lips without warning. It’s lewd and pornographic, yet it’s not as debauched as the sounds your wet pussy makes.

“Yeah, that’s more like it, hure,” Niki praises, and you mewl once his cock begins to touch that sweet spot of yours. It makes you go dizzy and hazy, and it also makes your legs weak. You involuntarily stop clenching your thighs together. Each thrust brings you against the wall, and you feel like you’re about to explode. Your pussy clenches down on Niki’s cock tightly, and his motions stutter. “Are you going to come already, my little slut?” he questions, slowing down his thrusts just to see you get frustrated. But the reaction you have is quite the opposite of what he wants, and he’s confused.

You let out a shaky breath that is filled with relief. You try to cross your legs together and push your ass backwards so that you’re far from the wall, even if it means that you’re closer to Niki. Your efforts don’t do much, and you want to wail in defeat. Niki observes you carefully before he shoves you back against the wall. You cry out before whispering a simple ‘please’ to him. He doesn’t realize what you’re talking about until he watches you place one of your hands on your stomach. You splay your fingers out delicately, and Niki chuckles.

The hold he has on your hips goes away, and he reaches for your hand. “Shh, it’s okay,” he reassures, and you furrow your eyebrows in both confusion and surprise. Niki pulls his cock out of you until you’re an empty, gaping mess. Suddenly, he presses down on your bladder until warmth trickles down your legs, soaking the fabric at your feet. A few tears leak from your eyes, and Niki watches as you burn up with embarrassment and shame. The pain and pressure in your abdomen go away as you finally alleviate yourself.

“Dreckig, dreckig, kleine Maus,” he degrades, and you don’t have it in you to be offended. The streams of liquid eventually come to an end, and you’re so ashamed. You press your face against the wall and wait for Niki’s next word. But he doesn’t say anything at all. Zip, zilch, nada. Instead, he pulls his hand away from your stomach and uses it to silently guide his cock back to your drooling, aching hole. “Couldn’t help yourself, I know. It’s okay, it’s not entirely your fault, liebling,” Niki tells you, even though he’s more patronizing than comforting.

“Es ist nicht deine Schuld, dass du nicht weißt, wie man etwas richtig macht. Keine Manieren, keine Höflichkeiten... Ich verstehe, dass du so bist, aber ich bin hier, um dich zu ändern. Ich bin hier, um dir beizubringen, dass du unter mir stehst und dass du nichts anderes tun solltest, als meine Hure zu sein und mich zu verehren,” he continues, and you’ve decided to give up entirely. You forehead rests on the white brick, and Niki begins to fuck you roughly once again.

He pounds against your sweet spot relentlessly, not one error in his rhythmic thrusts. “Poor little thing acts all tough until it comes down to it… And now look at you, you’re a complete mess with my cock stuffed inside this perfect pussy,” Niki grunts, leaning his body forward. His chest is right up against your back, and his chin rests on your sweaty shoulder. Your white ribbon is a tangled mess, the two ends of it twisting together and falling in your face. The silk material is no longer cooling, and the styling purpose of it has lost its touch.

The plunges of his cock are more deep than quick, and each shove of his hips sends you spiralling in pleasure. “F- Fuck,” you moan, seeing stars in your vision as your legs twitch from overwhelming gratification. “Yeah, you like that? You like the way my cock makes your pussy feel, kleine Maus?” he questions, and he further pushes his head down until his mentum digs into your skin. You wail loudly out of pain before nodding your head desperately. Niki squeezes the sides of your neck even more, but he also pushes down on your windpipe until you’re gasping for air.

You wheeze resoundingly, and the sound of you suffering for breath sends even more blood down to Niki’s pulsating cock. “Say it, tell me how much you love my cock and how much of a slut you are for me,” he demands, and you grasp at whatever’s left in your vocabulary. “I- I love your cock, Niki. I’m such a slut for you and your cock. You make me feel so good. I love your cock so much,” you pathetically mewl, and you can feel a form of tightening building up in you. Your lower abdomen burns up with searing flames, ones that trail all the way down to where you’re both connected.

You get wetter and wetter, more loud and desirous as your climax builds up. It’s like a staggering tower that reaches up to the sky and past the clouds; it has an end, but it keeps growing. “Are you going to come, kleine Maus? Are you going to come around my fat cock? I know you are. C’mon, do it,” Niki urges, and you moan his name loudly. “Do it, come on my cock right fucking now, or else I’ll make this worse for you,” he demands, and your back arches violently. You let out a gasp as your jaw goes slack. Red fills your vision, and you’re clamping down on his cock.

You moan his name loudly, and your juices coat his already sticky cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mewl, digging your nails into your skin as you struggle to keep quiet like he ordered you to do. Your pussy spasms wildly, and your clit throbs, desperate for a few fingers to rub it. Your legs shake just a little bit, and you find yourself meeting Niki at his every thrust, desperate to keep going. Your ass moves backwards, and his hips move forwards, and the Austrian fucks you through your orgasm. Your nerves have sparks flying from them, and every part of you is sensitive.

“You’re so pretty when you come, kleine Maus. You look just like a desperate whore,” Niki grunts, and he can feel himself inching closer to his own climax. It’s like the light at the end of a tunnel or the chequered flag that usually waits for him at the race track before he’s announced to be the winner. “I’m gonna come inside you, kleine Maus, even if you don’t want me to. I’m going to fill you up with my seed and make you all nice and round. That way, you’ll know who you belong to, and you won’t be whoring around for the James Hunt you love so much,” he whispers in your ear, and you rapidly shake your head.

No, no, no, no.

“Yes, yes, yes, kleine Maus, you’re going to take my seed because I said so. Now stop fighting me,” he moans in your ear, and his thrusts grow sloppy and lazy. Niki shallowly fucks into you, and his balls begin to tighten up. His chest rises and falls, and he can feel his high beginning to climb up to the sky. Up, up, up, and away. Niki moans out the little pet name he’s applied to you, and he entirely shoves his cock inside you until he can’t move anymore. Growling, he comes inside you without a care in the world.

The raging, red tip of his fat cock is so deep. White ropes of his seed shoot into your womb, filling you up until you’re an upset, messy cumdump. “This is all you’re good for, kleine Maus,” Niki whispers in your ear, reminding you of your so-called place that he believes you belong in. His cum drips down your inner walls and leaks past his cock, and your fluids mix with each other. Niki’s cock twitches inside of you, but he remains as hard as a rock.

“Can’t wait to see you with my baby, kleine Maus. And I can’t wait to see James’s face when he sees you with me. Er wird so schockiert sein, dass sein Gesichtsausdruck unbezahlbar sein wird,” Niki laughs wickedly, and you can’t imagine you’ll ever meet anyone as cruel or as twisted as he is. “Can you get off of me now? I want to go home, and I want to stay as far away from you as I can,” you snap in both annoyance and exhaustion. “Nu-uh,” he tuts in a disciplinary manner. “You’re not going anywhere, kleine Maus,” Niki tells you. He tilts his head up until his lips touch the skin of your ear.

“I still have to celebrate my win with you, and I’ll make sure to push you to the limit, kleine Maus.”

[arcadejohn127-9]

How would the demon boys react to some random demon saying that they "went soft" while they were with MC? love your page btw x

Oh ho ho I see! This is going to be fun! And thank you, I love seeing everyone's support!

Lucifer:

Him? Soft? Impossible

The audacity that lesser demon had was almost respectable

But he wasn't going to let it slide

"Perhaps I've been too kind to beings like you, if you truly believe I've grown soft you won't mind me practising my new equipment on you-"

"Luci? What cha doing? I've been looking for you."

As soon as he saw you he didn't even realize the love sick expression on his face

The lesser demon snickered

He realized he didn't keep his mask up

They believed they were going to go free due to his embarassment

But they only made him grip the demons face tighter, his sharp nails digging into their flesh

"not right now, I'm currently putting a demon in their place-"

"oh okay! Don't take too long, you promised you'd help me go shopping, there was a really cute outfit and I don't want to miss it."

"yes, of course, now run along."

You kissed his cheek, thanking him for taking you out

He happily sighed

Quickly placing a kiss on your lips before you left

His head snapped back to the demon with a blood thirsty smirk

"where were we?"

Mammon:

Him?! Soft?! He's got a reputation to uphold!

Like his rep isn't already destroyed by being a bunch of witches servant

Whilst he is feared for his status as a demon, in general his rep is more 'famous guy who Everyone respects but will laugh at him at any given chance'

But Don't tell mammon that

So when a leaser demon says he's gone soft due to you he's insulted

He grabs the lesser demon by the collar, yanking them towards him, pulling down his shades just enough to show off his furious glare

"You're real bold for speaking up against me like that, I'm the avatar of greed! I can destroy your well being with just a slight influence-"

You came marching towards him, brows knitted

"Mammon!!!! Stop picking fights, you promised we'd go to cafe today, I even made sure we'd get matching couples items."

You shoved your phone in his face, showing off the link he sent you

He wanted to go to the cafe due to the couple's coupon and the fact you were allowed matching gifts you can buy

"You Damn human-! Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?! The great mammon needs to defend his rep!"

"you're wasting your time, the cafe is going to get packed if we don't go now."

He didn't budge, trying to counter you but you just raised a brow

You let have a few moments before Rollin your eyes

"I'm going without you."

"BABY NO!!! DON'T LEAVE ME-! I'M COMING I SWEAR!"

He immediately hugged you and was pouting, complaining you embarassed him

But he quickly forgave you when you kissed the corner of his mouth, reminding him he couldn't jump into trouble or else his grades will be effected

Lucifers orders of course

Levithan:

"I will summon Loton on you for even perceiving me!"

It was a bold move on the lesser demons part

And today the ocean demon didn't feel like being talked to by anyone so hearing this made it even worse

He raised his hand in the air, magic glowing at his finger tips

The lesser demon gulped, regretting thinking Levi would be easy to mess with

"Levi, don't summon Loton, we'll get in trouble."

He didn't even realize you were there nor did he notice you arrive

He pouted, lowering his arm and started quickly moving his arms as he spoke

"But they're saying I've grown soft! That's insulting to demons! Especially high ranking ones! It's basically saying I'm a loser!"

"As a high ranking demon, just ignore them~ you're just fine~!"

You didn't want to deal with getting levi out of trouble because he flooded one part of R.A.D so you went to save the confident lesser demon

You grabbed his shoulders, nuzzling your cheek on his

He wanted to push you away due to embarassment and the fact it was in public

But he couldn't help but do the same, squishing his face next to yours with a massive blush on his face

"You're not helping-"

"You're great, let's go back home and finish the game we were playing."

The lesser demon was spared.....for now

Satan:

Does he look like the type to go soft?

Sure he was normally a pleasant guy to be around but soft???!

Despite his charming smile and gentle peaceful presence, he was known for being the most aggressive out of his brother's

So some lesser demon saying he's soft? He wanted to just scoff and ignore it but it chewed at him

"Soft...? Hm, you won't be saying anything when I'm done with you, you'll be too busy crying and gurgling on your own-"

"There you are! I wanted to give the book you let me borrow back- am I interrupting?"

You looked between the cowering demon in Satan's grasp

His horns flickering in out and out, his expression immediately going soft when he looked at you

"yes but what did you think of the book? I thought the characterization of the main lead was the selling point of the whole thing."

"oh definitely but chapter 104 had the best arc."

Satan opened his mouth, removing one his hands off the other demons throat to point at the book but his finger curled

Deciding to not argue with you

"I'll have to debate you on that one - excuse me I need to finish it here before I can debate you on arcs, I won't be long."

You nodded, kissing Satan's cheek and gave the lesser demon a sympathetic look

The lesser demon couldn't enjoy their freedom for long as Satan turned back to them, snarling

Let's just hope he decides it isn't worth his time for that demons sake

Asmodeus:

"me? Soft? Honey, I'm never soft~ I'm always hard~!"

The lesser demon cringed

Asmo crossed his arms, deflating slightly as his joke didn't land

Sure he was offended Someone would call him soft

But it's not like really based his reputation as being some intimidating thing, he wanted to be loved and admired!

But being soft can get you disrespected

So something has to be done and asmo is known definitely by his brothers for getting physical when needed

"Don't look so disgusted, you do understand who you're talking to, right? The avatar of lust - I'm able to bring out all your desires, I know you like things rough so let me show just how violent i can get-"

"hey, are you done threatening-flirting? Whatever you're doing, I need help with some design choices."

You definitely didn't know what you walked in but the lustful demon was your best bet to go to

He was currently caging a lesser demon to a wall and harshly gripping their chin

You just wanted a second opinion on your clothing designs!

"I'll be right there! Can you hold on for a moment please?"

You nodded, sensing the angry aura coming off him

"sure, I got wipes in my bag incase you need them."

"you're wonderful, I love you~!"

He sent you a few air kisses as he smiled at you, you shook your head at his affection

You were thankful you didn't look back because as soon as you walked away you heard a scream

And you were pretty sure it wasn't a good one

Beezlebub:

The lesser demon sure had balls to approach this walking mountain

Was no one intimidated by jocks anymore?

They snarled and teased that he was going soft, expecting a reaction

But Beel just glared at them, his resting bitch face coming in handy

"don't talk to me."

It wasn't long before you found him, he was walking through the halls heading to the main door

"heyy Beel-y, What's up?"

"a demon said I've grown soft....have I?"

You blinked a few times, not expecting the question

You definitely didn't expect the Insecure look on his face

The closer you got to him he was definitely a softie, he was always gentle with you and is super kind

To you, he hasn't changed at all

"I think you have from what I've heard but I don't think that's a bad thing, you can still hold your ground and it just means you're letting yourself not be on guard."

"that makes me feel better, you always know what to say - I'm hungry, let's go eat."

You linked your arms with him, both of you smiling

"sure! I heard there's a nice dessert place opening up!"

Belphegor:

"I think you're talking to the wrong demon, I haven't grown soft."

Again, lesser demons are getting too gutsy towards these demon brother's

Belphegor has never woken up and not chose violence

Sure he was a big cuddle bug and sleeping most of the time

But he could be absolutely ruthless -In words and actions!

"Belphie, I'm heading to the study room, wanna join?"

You didn't really care he was about to go toe to toe with another demon

Knowing he was going to win anyway but you did want to give him a chance to get away

He was on thin ice and could be put on house arrest if he kept acting up and pranking people

"I'm in the middle of threatening Someone right now."

"Alright, don't go too crazy or else you'll get in trouble but I'll be waiting, I bought a pillow for you to sleep on~"

You tugged the pillow out of your bag, wiggling abit as you showed it off

You were already walking away before the sleepy demon could say anything else

He glared at the lesser demon

"I'll prove them wrong another time, too much energy wasted if I did it now."

He immediately went jogging after you, looping an arm around your waist and nuzzled his cheek on your shoulder

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 9

Chapter 1     Chapter 8

Marinette stopped a few feet from the corner of the restaurant at which M. Wayne had made their reservation in order to collect herself. She checked her reflection in the restaurant’s darkened windows to make sure nothing had changed in the past few minutes. It wasn’t that she wanted to impress M. Wayne, but she didn’t want to make him think less of her either.  She wanted to be perfect for him and yeah, maybe, she wanted to impress him, make him want to stay… this time.

She brushed her bangs out of her face a little rougher than she intended to, trying to force those thoughts out of her head and punish herself for thinking them in the first place.  This wasn’t about making him like her.  She lived this long without him.  She didn’t need him.  She’d be just fine without him.  She had been so far.  It didn’t matter if he didn’t love her.  It didn’t matter if he didn’t like her.  It didn’t mean she was unloveable.  

She watched as her reflection deflated.  It just meant that one of the two people who were biologically programmed to love her no matter what, didn’t.  That he fought through biology to brush her off. She shook her head and stood straight up again.  But! But, that didn’t make her unloveable.  Jagged did the same to Luka and Juleka and they were two of the most amazing people she knew.  They weren’t unloveable, and neither was she. They repaired their relationship and so could she.

This was about adding to her family, not filling a hole in her life.  There was no Bruce Wayne shaped hole in her life.  His opinion of her didn’t matter.  His opinion of her didn’t change who she was.  She was going to be who she was around him and if he didn’t like it, she lost nothing.  She would still have an amazing family.  She would still have amazing friends.  She would still be loved.

This was about him fitting into her life.  Not the other way around.  This was about her deciding if there was a place for him.  If she wanted him there, to give him a chance or not.  This was about getting answers so she could make those decisions.  She took a breath.  This was about giving him a chance to speak and for her to listen to what he said.

She nodded to her reflection resolutely and pushed through the doors to the restaurant’s waiting area.  Her eyes widened incrementally seeing the lobby. It screamed luxury and exclusivity. Only certain people were allowed here and Marinette was confident if she hadn’t been meeting Bruce Wayne, she wouldn’t be considered one of those people.  The maître d’ eyed her with a sneer that looked so at home on his face it must have been his normal expression.

She gave him a nervous smile.  “I’m here for a reservation under the name Wayne.”  The maître d’ looked her up and down and gave a curt nod.  He walked toward the doors to the dining room without saying anything to her.

Marinette smoothed down her hair one last time as the maître d’ led her through the doors to the dining area.  She clutched her purse so tightly her knuckles were turning white.  She really hoped Tikki had found a different spot to hide in, because otherwise it had to be incredibly uncomfortable for her. Marinette was focusing all of her tension into her hand and forcing the rest of her body to relax so she wouldn’t appear as terrified as she actually was.  Now if she could just get her heart to start beating in a regular rhythm, she’d be all set.

She gave a nervous smile to Bruce as he stood to greet her and struggled to remember any part of the pep talk she had just given herself a few minutes ago. Because as soon as she saw his relieved and excited face, she started forgetting.  It was not about wanting to see that expression on his face and knowing she was the cause.  This was about her.  She should not be filled with anxiety about making him lose that expression and wanting to walk away.  He was proving himself, she wasn’t proving herself.

“Marinette!”  He gave her a warm smile and held his hand out to shake hers while she went in for a cheek kiss greeting at the same time.  He chuckled awkwardly and quickly shifted his hand to her arm as he kissed her cheek as well.  He nodded to the maître d’ and pulled her chair out for her.  As soon as they were alone, he sat down anxiously.  “Thank you again for agreeing to meet me.  You look nice.”

Marinette smiled and nodded to him.  “So do you.  And thank you for agreeing at such short notice.”

He chuckled nervously.  His eyes darted between her, his glass of wine, the menu, really anything as he searched for his next words.  It shouldn’t be this hard.  He spoke to boardrooms of hostile and dangerous businesspeople.  Speaking to his daughter shouldn’t be harder.  She wasn’t going to destroy a city.  She wasn’t going to undermine entire groups of people just so she could make a few more dollars.  She wasn’t dangerous… well, not to anyone but him.  With him, she had the power to destroy his heart with just one word.

“I ordered a merlot if you would like some.  If not, I can call someone in…”

He started to get up to call someone over, but Marinette lunged at him to get him to sit down and not draw attention to them, knocking over his glass of merlot. Marinette’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh no, no, no, no,” she whimpered helplessly.  She grabbed a few napkins to clean it up.  Why?  Why did her clumsiness have to act up now?  In front of M. Wayne.  Why did she have to be such a klutz?  She could feel the tears stinging her eyes as they tried to escape.

“Marinette,” Bruce cooed gently.  He gently gripped her wrists and pulled them away from the table.  “Marinette, it’s okay.  It happens.  You should see a normal dinner at the manor.  If there isn’t at least one spill or something isn’t broken, we start thinking someone is sick.”  She finally looked up at him apprehensively and he could feel the breath leaving his chest. His eyes softened and he tried to give her an encouraging smile.  “It’s fine. We can just move to another table and I’ll leave a big tip.”

Her eyes widened even larger and she looked around.  “We can’t just…”  She stopped when she noticed the empty restaurant.  It was prime dinnertime, or at least it was in France.  Maybe a bit early, but not uncommon.  But this restaurant was completely empty.  Not even families with kids.  And there was no way M. Wayne would choose a restaurant that nobody liked.  “Do Gothamites eat dinner really early?  Or really late?” she whispered, not wanting to break the silence that engulfed them.

“Hmm?” Bruce hummed in confusion.

“There aren’t any… It just isn’t as crowded as I would expect,” she explained. “Not that that doesn’t work in my favor in this case.”

“Oh,” he nodded his head in realization and gave her a soft smile. “No, not as crowded as the place usually is.  I rented it out.”

“You rented out the entire restaurant?” she whispered incredulously. “At the last minute?”

Bruce’s smile widened at the astonished look on her face.  “I didn’t want people gawking at us all night or taking pictures and the manor is rather hectic.”  He grimaced slightly at the thought.  “Not to mention, we’d have just as many gawkers there.  And I wanted this first meeting to be just between us.  So I made sure we had some privacy.”

Marinette shook her head.  “Right. Forgot.  Rich.”

Bruce chuckled too.  “Yeah, I forget sometimes too.”  He sat at a table next to the one they had been sitting at.

Marinette scoffed lightly and joined him at the new table.  “I doubt that.”  She slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide as she stared at him. “Sorry.  I’m sorry.  That was… so rude,” she stuttered.  She dropped her eyes quickly.  She mentally berated herself for sabotaging this so efficiently.  She doubted she could do it more effectively if she were trying.

Bruce shook his head.  “No, not at all.  You’re not wrong.  And a lot more polite about it than Jason would have been.  Or Stephanie.”

Marinette looked back up at him through her bangs.  “Oh… um… okay.”

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut behind his menu.  He was screwing this up so badly.  Instead of making her feel more comfortable, he was making her increasingly nervous and doubtful.  He pursed his lips as he searched for anything to talk about to lighten the mood. “I hope you like it here.  The food is really good.”  He had to stop himself from physically slapping himself for that terrible non-sequitur.  His entire job was to say things in an engaging, elegant way.  It was a skill he’d started honing decades ago.  Where was that training now?

Marinette opened her menu as well with an anxious smile.  “Great.  I’m starving.”

“Hi Starving, I’m your father.”

Marinette blinked a few times at him, trying to catch his eye but he was staring blankly at his menu.  “Did you just…”

“I admit to nothing,” he answered flatly, still staring at his menu.  

Marinette continued to stare for a few seconds before breaking down into giggles, the tension that had been building since she entered the restaurant breaking with his joke.  “I… I can’t… believe you sai… said that,” she gasped out between laughs.

He watched her with an amused glint in his eyes and a relieved smile.  “Do not tell your siblings.  Dick will pout for a week that he wasn’t here to hear it.”

Marinette let her giggles die down and nodded.  She looked up at him with a much more relaxed smile.  “Not known for your sense of humor?”

“No, definitely not,” Bruce shook his head with a grin.  He set down his menu to focus on Marinette.  “Jason used to tease me mercilessly about it.”

Marinette quirked her head to the side, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.  “And was Jason a comedian or he just liked to tease you?”

“A little of both.  Dick is more of our comedian.  He’s usually the first to make a joke… to lighten the mood.  Stephanie will make a fool out of herself to get you to smile, or herself.  She likes being over the top.  But Jason, when he was a kid, was excited about everything.  Everything in life was new and exciting.  He was constantly smiling and bouncing from thing to thing. So optimistic.”  Bruce’s eyes unfocused as he remembered the first year after Jason came to the manor.

Marinette furrowed her brow in doubt.  Not a single one of those words were ones she would use to describe Jason from the time she’d spent with him.  Maybe her translation of the words was wrong?  “Jason?  Jason Todd. Your son Jason.”

Bruce chuckled wryly.  “Yes, that Jason. “  A pained expression flashed across his face morphing into a sad frown he didn’t even try to hide.  “A lot changed over the years.  Some… things happened about eight years ago.  It changed all of us.”

Marinette let out a dry laugh as images of Hawaiian shirts and rock giants flashed through her head.  She turned back to her menu to avoid his eyes.  “I can understand that.”

Bruce furrowed his brow, a guilty frown settling on his lips for a few seconds before he plastered on a smile.  “Now he’s more likely to make a sarcastic remark than a joke.  But, he’s fiercely protective of his family, maybe more than any of the rest of us.”

Marinette thought back over their interactions and slowly started nodding. “He seems like it.”  She paused when the waitress came in to take their orders. She smiled politely while the waitress was in the room, acting the part of a dutiful, happy daughter rather than a temperamental stranger who took her frustrations and insecurities out on him without letting him explain.  And that’s what this was about, letting him explain.  But before he could do that, she needed to make sure he knew she wasn’t mad. Well… that she wasn’t going to attack him anyway.

As soon as the waitress left, her shield was gone.  She could no longer hide behind the façade.  Now she had to face him.  She looked down and squeezed her eyes shut.  She took a beat before she looked back up at Bruce.  “I wanted to say sorry for how I behaved when you came to my hotel room.  I wasn’t being fair to you.  I only found out about you a few days ago and then the world found out and then you were at my door.  It was a lot all at once and I did not handle it well, so I’m sorry.”  

Even with half her face hidden from looking down as she spoke, Bruce could see the shame radiating from her expression.  When she finally looked up to make eye contact he had to force himself not to gasp at the guilt and pain in her eyes.  His heart clenched at the sight.  He hated seeing her look like that. He’d do anything to keep that look off her face.  That was his job.  That was the entire point of what he’d done.  But he failed.  He might have failed at it so far, but he was going to make up for it now… if she would let him.

His hand shot out almost too quickly to see and gently squeezed hers, hoping that at least that level of intimacy was allowed.  “No, I invaded your space.  I forced a confrontation before you were ready.  I knew I shouldn’t do that.  Sabine… your mother warned me not to do that and I did it anyway.  I’m sorry for that.  I didn’t… I didn’t want to lose my chance to…”  He looked down at the table and frowned trying to get his words in order.  

“I didn’t want you to leave before I could talk to you, to try to connect and explain.”  He looked at her almost desperately.  “You were here, right here.  So close. I couldn’t let you slip through my fingers again, not when I knew you knew.  Not when I didn’t have to keep it a secret anymore.”  He frowned and looked down at his glass, pulling his hand back into his lap.  He suddenly chuckled wryly.  “If there was ever a good reason to begin with.”

Marinette sucked in a breath not ready for this conversation yet.  She thought they’d ease into it.  Get comfortable, then get into it.  But apparently M. Wayne’s approach was to rip the Band-Aid off. Dealing with uncomfortable situations was definitely not an inherited trait because her method of avoiding any uncomfortable conversations in increasingly unlikely and embarrassing manors until the entire thing festered into a debilitating, unnecessarily explosive fiasco, was not a technique she picked up from her maman either.

Bruce looked back up at her with a determined look.  “Marinette, you had a right to react.  You had… have a right to be upset or hurt or both.  I deserved it.  Believe me, I understand that.  I’ve gotten worse from your siblings for less.  Don’t feel like you have to apologize to me.  However you react, I can take it and I’m not going to walk away again.  But I am hoping that you being here means you want to move forward, you want to try.”  He looked up at her questioningly, an edge of fear in his eyes.  “Do you?”

Marinette let out the breath she’d taken in.  She looked down and pushed a strand of hair that was still in place behind her ear, letting her fingers linger so she had something else to focus on for a moment.  When she looked back up, there was a more determined look in her eyes.  “Yes.  I… I want to listen.  I want to understand.”

Bruce nodded with a grateful smile.  “Thank you.  I know this is a lot and it hasn’t been fair to you and I’m sorry for… everything.”  

Marinette nodded.  “Thank you.” They both sat and looked in the vicinity of each other uneasily, both waiting for the other to say something first. Marinette tapped her fingers together while she waited for him to continue speaking, to give the explanation he’d promised.

Bruce was waiting for… he wasn’t sure.  Inspiration maybe.  He’d thought through what he wanted to say.  He’d gone over it all, but somehow seeing her in front of him, looking in her eyes and seeing her vulnerability laid bare, none of his excuses seemed like enough.  None of them seemed valid, but then again, they never were.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke up.  “When you were born, I was younger than you are now and I didn’t think I’d be able to be a good father.”  He frowned at the table.  “And in my head it was better for you to not be with me at all.  I thought I’d bring you down.  But your mother…” he gave her a wan smile, “she was always strong and good. I knew she would be an amazing mother… without my interference.  I thought you had a better chance away from me and Gotham and in my idiot mind that meant cutting off all contact.”

“But you took in other kids,” she pointed out timidly.

Bruce nodded and flicked his eyes up to hers before looking back down in guilt. “I didn’t intend to.  I came across Dick about awhile after your mother took you to France.  He lost his parents.  They died, were killed in front of his eyes, like mine had been.  He was angry and violent.  He needed someone and I thought I could help.  I might not be a good parent, but I could help him… keep him from becoming… me.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed sympathetically.  “Would that be bad?”

Bruce cringed slightly, remembering how he was at the time.  “Yes, it would have.  Anger and desperation?  They can do bad things to a person.”  He looked at her pointedly.  “Makes you make terrible decisions.”

Marinette nodded in understanding.  She understood how far desperation could drive a person.  She understood how dark some people could go. She understood how bad things could get if they continued unchecked.  She’d fought those people.  She’d helped defeat one of them.  And no matter how bad the battle was, it was always harder handling them after they were defeated, when all they had was their grief.

“Jason… he came a few years later.  He was alone and on the streets.  He was tough and smart and so excited about life, but he was never going to get the opportunity to do anything on the streets.”

“And you wanted to help him too,” Marinette finished his unfinished thought.

“Yeah. He needed someone to let him be a kid, let him be passionate, to love him like a parent should.  And I couldn’t leave him there.  And Tim… he kind of snuck in and declared himself family.  He wasn’t wrong.  He is.  He came along after Jason… was gone.  He filled a void I didn’t even know I had until he stepped in.  And I hope I’ve done the same for him.  He didn’t have the best childhood either.  And now… I can’t imagine the family without him.”

Marinette gave him a small smile.  “Sounds like he adopted you.”

Bruce nodded absently, his eyes taking on a far-off focus as he remembered the past. “Sometimes children are smarter than their parent.  In the case of my kids,” he looked up at her meaningfully, “all of them, it’s true.

“They didn’t have a better choice… you did.  And in my idiotic self-destructive mind, I was helping you.  I was convinced for more than a decade that the best thing I’d done in my life, the most selfless, was walk away from you, not force you to have to suffer with dealing with me.  But I was just afraid and selfish.  I made a stupid choice.  By the time I realized how monumentally I’d screwed up, Jason was gone and by the time I got my head back on right, Damian was here and Damian needed all my attention.”

“You didn’t have Damian since he was a baby?”

Bruce shook his head.  “No.  I didn’t even know about him until he was ten. Then his mother just dropped him off with me.  His childhood…” Bruce let out a long breath.  “His grandfather taught him since birth that he needed to earn love, or as close as he’s capable to love.  Damian’s mother told him he was better than everyone else… so you can imagine the kinds of issues we had for quite a while.”

He gave a proud smile.  “He’s made such a big change since he came.  He’s grown so much.”

“You sound proud,” she observed poignantly.

Bruce’s smile turned bittersweet.  “I’m proud of all of my kids.  You’re all amazing people.  I don’t know how I ended up with so many amazing kids.”

She smiled and hoped it didn’t come off as awkward as it felt.  “So what about Duke?  And I think Jason mentioned sisters.”

Bruce nodded.  “Cass is the only one I adopted.  Stephanie is just around enough that she’s essentially a child.  Same with Barbara.  I ran into Cass while I was travelling.  Her parents were mentally and physically abusive to the point that she didn’t speak until she was a teenager.”  Marinette gasped.  “She’s a lot better.  She communicates with us a lot, mostly through sign language.  And Duke… Joker tortured his parents because they saved me once.”

Marinette gasped and grasped his hand, squeezing it.  When he met her eyes she gave him another encouraging squeeze and a warm smile.  “They’ve all come such a long way.  I’m sure a better parent could have done more but somehow we’ve all become a slightly dysfunctional family.  Watching them… It’s amazing to see how far they’ve all come.  They’ve all had to fight so hard, go against so many obstacles.”

“It sounds like you’ve done a lot of work with all of them.  And they’ve grown amazingly with you watching over them. They were incredibly lucky to have you,” Marinette said quietly a strained smile on her face, no longer making eye contact with Bruce.  She took back her hand to take a drink of her wine.

Those were valid reasons.  She could admit that and she didn’t begrudge them the better life being with M. Wayne afforded them, but still…  She fought frowning at her lap.  It all made sense.  Every step made sense.  They needed someone and he could provide, so he did.  From an objective perspective.  It made sense.  Did it make her a bad person if that didn’t make her feel better?  What did it say about her that she was still hurt?  That she still was angry, felt betrayed?  That it wasn’t enough?

Bruce’s face fell as he watched her change in demeanor.  His chest clenched.  “I never stopped thinking about you and how you were doing.  I never stopped loving you.”  He reached out for her hand but let his hand dropped when she didn’t offer it readily.  “I know you don’t feel that way about me, you just met me, but I’ve loved you from the moment you were born.  And I know it’s hard to see and I don’t show it well… at all… but I’ve always tried to make sure you were taken care of, that you never wanted for anything. I’ve kept up on your life to make sure.

“And I need you to know it was never because I didn’t want you.  It was never that I thought my other kids were better than you in any way.  It was never because I didn’t think you were good enough. I didn’t think I was.  I thought you deserved better than I could ever give you, better than you could get in Gotham.  But running away wasn’t the way to do that, and I realize that.”  He was unsure how to interpret the wide eyed look Marinette was giving him, but he plowed on, needing to say it anyway.

“I really did intend to try to connect.  That’s why I went to your final showing.  I showed pictures of your work to someone on the fabric project and said I happened to see you there.”  He chuckled lightly and shook his head.  “I thought I’d have to do a bunch of conniving behind the scenes to get Lucius to use you.  But as it turns out, he’s just as excited to get you on the project as I was.  He mentioned you to me after you spoke with him.”

Marinette smiled.  It was small and self-conscious, but significantly better for Bruce to see than the strained smile she’d had earlier.  “M. Fox is a very nice man.  I liked speaking with him a lot.”  

“And he is quite fond of you.”  Bruce smiled fondly at her but his smile quickly turned conspiratorial.  “I think he likes you better than he likes me, actually.”

Marinette straightened up in her seat.  “I plan on accepting his offer to consult on the project.”  She looked up to make eye contact with Bruce.  Her body tensed slightly in preparation for her next words.  “If… if that’s okay with you.”

Marinette gave a small, uncertain smile when she saw Bruce’s brilliant smile. “Yes!  That’s great to hear.”  His face turned serious.  “What does that mean for… do you want to…”

“I was hoping to take you up on the apartment offer as well… if that’s still an option.”  Marinette looked down again, her anxiety back.  “It will help Max while he settles in and I thought I could use it while I figure out how the project is going to work and what the requirements on my time will be.”  She tapped her fingers together, unable to control her fidgeting.  She looked up nervously.  “I thought it would also give us a chance to see each other more and your other kids.”

“Absolutely.  It is absolutely still available.  If you want your own apartment, I can get a penthouse for you.  Or you’re welcome to stay at the manor,” he rambled excitedly.

“M. Wayne,” Marinette interrupted.  Bruce immediately sobered at her serious expression.  “I don’t need special treatment.  I don’t need you to buy me things.  And I don’t know how long I’ll be in town.  Adrien and I are trying to figure out where we want to set up and I’ll need to start taking commissions again.”

Bruce nodded.  “I understand.  Sorry. I got excited and got carried away. Rich, you know… it’s how we show love.”

Marinette’s face immediately soured as she thought of Adrien’s and Chloe’s childhoods. “That’s not love you’re showing. I’m staying to get to know you and your family, not get things.”

Bruce blinked at her a few times.  “Right. I know that.  I never thought it was,” he assured her awkwardly.  He took a sip of his wine and glanced around the room. He suddenly perked up.  “Speaking of commissions, I was hoping we could finally commission you… if that’s okay!” he added quickly.  “I don’t want to put pressure on you.  I’ve just been waiting to get something made by you for years.”

Marinette blinked a few times and looked down.  Her brow furrowed.  She fought letting out a sigh.  “No, you’re right.  I should.”

“We’ll pay you, of course,” he insisted.

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “I’m not going to charge you to make something for you.”

Bruce shook his head.  “You run a business.  I’m commissioning the business.  I can cover our commission.”

Marinette huffed and narrowed her eyes at him.  “Compromise.  You pay for materials.  Nothing more.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes back at her.  “Materials and time.”

Marinette huffed out a laugh.  “Okay fine.”

Bruce grinned.  “I’m excited to work with you.  I wasn’t kidding.  I’ve wanted to commission you for years.  I’m a fan of your style and art.”

Marinette opened her mouth but closed it quickly when the waitress came back in with their food.  Bruce leaned back so she could set the plates down.  “Speaking of, how would you feel about going to the art museum tomorrow and then maybe get some lunch after?”

Marinette nodded.  “Oh yeah, there was an exhibit that looked interesting.”  She nodded to the waitress and thanked her.  The waitress lingered for just a moment before leaving the room.

“Would 9 work for you? Oh, no wait.” He scrunched his face in annoyance.  “I have a meeting at 10.  It should be done by noon though.”  He looked up and gave her an earnest look.  “I’ll make sure it is done by noon.  How about lunch then art museum?”

Marinette smiled and nodded.  “That sounds good.”

“Great.  I can bring the keys for the new apartment.  Now, I’ve done all the talking.  Tell me more about you.  Tell me about your friends.”  He took a bite giving Marinette his full attention while Marinette talked about her friends and how they had all met and some stories about their time together.  

She started out slowly, building up more confidence as she spoke.  The more she spoke the more comfortable she was with what she wanted to say.  The quicker she was able to filter out what information she didn’t want to share. She wasn’t ready to give him much yet, not enough to do anything with, not more than he could probably get from searching Instagram or Tik Tok, but it was a start.  A start to what exactly, she wasn’t sure.  But it was a start to something.

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone@ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[i-just-like-goats]

Miya Atsumu x Female Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: The Inarizaki team have all placed bets on when you and your longtime best friend Atsumu will finally get together. Kita is close to losing the bet, time for him to step in.

It is known to all students at Inarizaki High that Atsumu was a lady’s man. Sure he wasn’t a womaniser or a player, but that didn’t stop him from breaking hearts everywhere he went. His mere dismissal of a girl would lead that girl to burst into tears, straight up rejections even worse. His casual flirtatious comments did not at all help with his reputation, leading oblivious girls to believe he actually held interest in them. How wrong they were.

Whereas you. You deemed yourself nothing special. Nothing too flashy, unlike a certain someone. You didn’t stand out in a crowd, and most certainly never attempted to shine or take the spotlight. You left that to your best friend.

Miya Atsumu.

“Hey could you-“

“No.”

“Will you please put in a good-“

“No.”

The first two girls had left, their hopes crushed, you felt relieved they had gone to class until another girl replaced them and effectively disrupted your short lived peace.

“Y/N!” She said, her voice oozed with fake sweetness.

“Do I know you?” You asked bluntly.

“We sit next to each other in chemistry, silly. Don’t you remember?”

“And?”

“So I was wondering if I could ask you a favour?”

“If it’s homework we had none. If it’s class work I’ll send you my notes. If it’s anything else; leave me alone.”

“I just need you to give this little gift to At-“

“Not interested.”

With that you swiftly walked away, which left the unnamed girl open mouthed with shock. This was the daily routine you had to put up with. Reject all of Atsumu’s fan girls who approached you in order to reach him. Truth be told it was extremely tedious, but you couldn’t really complain - after all you were the one who befriended him. It was a small price to pay for being friends with him.

“Hey I was wondering if you could set me up with Atsumu?” A different girl asked.

Scratch that it wasn’t small. At all. It was a big price to pay. Very tedious. Very irritating. Very time consuming. By the time you reached your first class - English - you were already exhausted and plopped yourself into your seat.

“Don’t you look wonderful?”

“Well you wouldn’t look so hot either if you had to fight off Atsumu’s admirers in the space of one morning.”

Osamu noticed your sharp tone and held his hands up in mock surrender. You shook your head at him and started writing down what your teacher was saying.

Lunch came around and you made your way to your usual table next to your best friend.

“There’s my favourite best friend!”

All eyes were on you as you made your way to Atsumu. Some looked with contempt. Some with envy. Others with anger. All harboured ill feelings towards you. He had that certain look in his eye when you walked over to him, like you were the greatest thing in the world. His smile widened once you took the seat across from him, Atsumu’s eyes sparkled with joy as though it was his first time seeing your face again. Suna scoffed at his expression, not before taking a sneaky picture of proof about how much Miya Atsumu was whipped for Y/N L/N.

“Where were you all morning! I missed you so much,”

“I was dying,”

Silence. Atsumu tilted his head in confusion. Next to him, his twin stifled a laugh.

“Bro, your girlfriend here was busy fending off the wild animals that make up your fan club. She had no time to see your stupid face, and the last time you saw her was yesterday,”

Everyone in proximity of your table tensed up at Osamu’s words. From the table next to yours, Atsumu’s fan girls glared daggers at you.

“Yesterday was ages ago,” Atsumu whined.

“That’s what you focus on?” You ask incredulously.

Instantly Atsumu’s demeanour changed and he glanced to his left.

“Way to go Osamu, now Y/N’s on their hit list,” Atsumu said dryly.

“Well if you didn’t flirt back none of us would be in this mess,” Kita kindly passive aggressively informed his teammate.

Ever since Atsumu’s first official match, girls had been flocking to Atsumu like a swarm of bees to their queen. Every day the Inarizaki volleyball team had to deal with squealing fan girls gushing over Atsumu’s talent for volleyball, essentially distracting the players and disrupting practice. At first Atsumu shamelessly flirted back, basking in the attention, now he, as well as the others were fed up. In short, Kita was tired. Tired of the fan girls. And most importantly tired of the fact that you and Atsumu weren’t dating yet. At this rate Kita would lose the bet that Osamu and Suna had coerced him to take part in. He had bet that you and Atsumu would be dating by the end of the month, which was this Saturday, and the way things were going between you two, he’d probably have to ask you out himself for Atsumu in order to win the bet. On the other hand, Osamu bet that Atsumu would ask in their third year, Aran bet that you would actually ask instead of Atsumu and Suna bet that Atsumu would ask at the end of next month. It was decided that the losers would do what the winner wanted for a day, with no complaining whatsoever. A whole day of getting the team to do what he wants without complaints. A dream come true for Kita.

“It’s the end of the month on Saturday. Two days,” Osamu sing songed.

“So?” You asked.

“Oh, nothing,”

You dropped it and shrugged. Opposite you, Kita sent a saccharine smile towards Osamu, while the latter playfully smirked back. Kita had a plan.

Two day passed as usual, nothing significant happened; that is until the end of the second day. As usual, you made your way out of Physics with Atsumu; your best friend filled in the silence with his cheerful chatter. Unusually, Kita stood there at the end of the corridor.

“Hey cap! What brings you here?” Atsumu inquired.

Kita seemed to snap out of whatever was bothering him, for his face returned from his previous scrunched expression to his more neutral expression.

“Hm? Oh I came here to speak with Y/N. If that’s alright with the two of you?”

You nodded, though intrigued as to what Kita wanted to talk to you about, Atsumu on the other hand stayed silent. Before you left with Kita, he crushed you with a hug and sent puppy eyes at your retreating figure, walking next to his captain.

During the walk out of school grounds, Kita mentally prepared himself to convince you to ask Atsumu out, allowing both his and Aran’s plan to work, so that the pair won the bet - Kita was too engrossed in his thoughts. A while passed before you and Kita spoke; you were already halfway home before you confronted Kita.

“Kita?”

“You have feelings for Atsumu, don’t you?”

Kita panicked at your sudden dialogue and spoke the words that first came to his mind. His panic was not conveyed through his steady tone of voice. Truth be told, it was more of a statement than a question, it certainly caught you off guard. The latter half of the sentence seemed to be added hastily as though to soften the bluntness.

“What makes you say that?” You answered evenly, and turned your face away from him, a small blush settled firmly on your cheeks.

“Answering my question with a question I see,” he teased, “Everyone knows, the both of you don’t hide your feelings very well, it surprises me that you two aren’t dating yet,”

“I know he has feelings for me, I’m not an idiot, I see the way he looks differently at me and I see how he’s more clingy towards me than the others. I’m not an idiot,” you repeated.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know,”

“I think you do know. Idiot,”

You pouted and let out a huff.

“Fine. Fine,” you finally conceded, “I’m not an idiot but I am a coward. I guess - as cliché as it sounds - I don’t want to ruin our friendship. What if it doesn’t work out and we end on bad terms? Years of friendship would be wasted and gone in an instant. I just. I just don’t want to risk that happening,”

“What’s life without a little risk,”

At Kita’s attempt at lightening the mood, you scoffed and shook your head.

“Sorry, that was unlike me. What I meant to say was you won’t know until you try. Sure there is that possibility that the relationship may end badly and the precious friendship between you and Atsumu would probably be lost, but there is also a chance that this relationship will end happily, with no heartbreak. I can’t guarantee that everything will be peachy; obviously there’s going to be some problems along the way but knowing your stubborn personality I am confident that you will fight for you and Atsumu, because I know you care way too much for him to let him go,”

Kita’s speech surprised you, this was the most encouraging thing he had said to you. Ever. You smiled.

“Thanks Kita. I really needed that,” you said as you finally reached your house.

Kita made his way to his house, waving as he walked down the steeet. He left you with a lot to think about.

Later that evening you called Kita again, and talked until he decided that it was time to go to sleep.

That morning you walked to school with Kita in a comfortable silence. Once you reached school you spoke.

“Ok I’m going to do it,”

“Yes you will,” Kita encouraged.

Confidently you walked up to your long time best friend, then suddenly turned the other direction.

“I can’t do it,” you cried out.

Exasperatedly, Kita shook his head and forced a strained smile.

“Y/N do you want to do this or not?”

“I do,”

“Then go get him,”

“I’ll do it while we walk home,”

Anyway, the school day passed, honestly you couldn’t remember what happened, it was all a blur.

“Atsumu?” you called.

“Yup?”

“Do you want to walk home together?”

“Yes! I’m still kinda annoyed you walked with Kita, Kita of all people instead of me,”

“Sorry about that ‘Tsumu,” you replied bashfully.

With that you both made your way out of school. Little did you know Kita, Osamu, Suna and Aran followed you both from a distance. Osamu and Suna because they just wanted to go home. Kita and Aran to make sure you confessed.

“Get ready to do what we want for a day,” Kita stated.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Suna questioned.

“Kita and I formulated a plan,” Aran answered cryptically.

“Guys shut up Y/N stopped walking,” Osamu whisper shouted.

You had indeed stopped walking, leaving Atsumu to carry on walking and talking. You had been quiet the whole walk, which wasn’t unusual, as you normally let Atsumu talk, while you listened. You were just too lost in your thoughts.

“Y/N?”

Atsumu had finally noticed that you were no longer by his side.

“Hellooo. Earth to Y/N,”

“I like you,”

Atsumu was taken aback. That was not a reply he was expecting.

“I just really like your smile, your personality even though you can be quite big headed at times, I like your laugh, I just like you for you, not in the way that those girls like you for your looks and skills. I like everything about you even your flaws,”

“Whoa, for real?”

You glanced at his expression and burst out laughing.

“You look like surprised Pikachu!” you wheezed out.

Atsumu joined in with your laughter. The two of you continued laughing for several minutes.

“I like you too,” Atsumu said once both your laughter finally died down.

You turned your gaze towards his eyes. His beautiful eyes that held all the stars in the galaxy.

“That’s a relief,”