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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 4 years ago

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Types of love - Jin Drabble ft Jungkook {fluff + angst} Housemate au

You hear a deep sigh beside you as you take out the laundry from the washing machine.

“Noona what are you doing?” Jungkook sounds exasperated with you and it’s only 7 in the morning.

“Jin’s got a meeting at 12, I told him I’d get his clothes ready for him,” you grin brightly at your youngest housemate.

“Why can’t Hyung do it?” He doesn’t return the smile.

“He wanted a lie in.”

There’s that sigh again but you ignore it, it made you feel a little shame that you tried to push down.

“Okay new question,” you could see him pinch the bridge of his nose from the coroner of your eye as you put the clothes in the dryer. “Why are you doing it?”

You shrug, “he’s been busy and I just though-”

“Noona,” cold judgy eyes came from the maknae.

“Kookie leave it, I’m doing it because I want to,” your sunny outlook on today was suddenly dampened by the annoying brat following you.

“He’s taking advantage of you and your feelin-”

“Kook I said leave it!”

You slam the door as you walk out.

——————————————————————————

It was no secret to anyone that you may have feelings for the oldest of your housemates, even though you’ve never ever said it out loud. Your actions spoke for you. You always went the extra mile due to your unrequited affection, but you didn’t mind, you were always taught to love without limits and you swore you did what you did without expecting anything in return. He was just so handsome and funny, you were happy just to be his friend, even if your heart hoped to be something more, you couldn’t help it. Maybe he did sometimes take a little advantage of you? But truly you were to blame for that and you took full responsibility.

You and Jin ignored the way Jungkook was staring daggers at him as you brought him his tea with some cakes to the table when he got back from a long day of work.

“How was work Jin?” You asked.

“Perks of being son of the CEO, everyone offered to do my work for me,” cue the windshield wiper laughter you loved to hear. “The new girl on my floor slipped me her number, it was a pretty good day.”

Your heart sank and with it your smile, you forced it to stay on as he rambled about his day and the pretty new girl, if they both could see your discomfort they didn’t say anything.

Jin wasn’t oblivious he just didn’t care, Jungkook on the other hand now watched your reactions like a hawk.

“It may not be the most professional thing to do as her potential new boss but I may have agreed to drinks Friday night,” he chortles, his spiel coming to an end.

“You’re not taking over the business any time soon Hyung, hold your horses,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Wait Friday?” You suddenly speak after staying quiet. “Jin we’re all supposed to go for dinner Friday, we booked the table and everything.”

The three of you reserved dinner at the same place every year on the anniversary of you all moving in, it was an important night for you, you three were always so busy or tired so nights out were rare. Plus Jin was always so busy, he was either at work or at the gym or sleeping or out, the housemate anniversary was the only real time you got to spend with him.

“Y/n I think you missed the part of the story where I told you she was hot,” he argues with what he thinks is sound logic.

“Jin it’s the housemate anniversary, it’s sacred are you seriously ditching us for some random girl?”

“It’s not a big deal Y/n, hoes before bros you know?” he laughs at his own stupid joke and for the first time it irritates you a little.

“Not your bro Jin,” you grit your teeth.

“You might as well be Y/n, you’re not exactly the girliest girl ever,” he responds.

“Hyung,” Jungkook warns, finally butting in after watching your discussion like a tennis match.

You sit back in shock, did he seriously bro zone you? What the hell!

“Noona is pretty Hyung, stop being mean,” young Kookie comes to your defence when you fail to speak.

“Oh no I’m not saying she’s not, she’s just not my type,” why the hell was he talking about you like you weren’t there, he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. You sit deflated with you head low, biting back tears. Jin didn’t notice, when did he ever, Jungkook did.

“I think that’s enough.”

Jungkook was right, that was enough, you stood up to leave without uttering another word to them both. Once he heard your door close, Jungkook unleashed hell.

“What the hell hyung! Are you trying to upset her on purpose?” He seethed in a hush tone. “You know how she feels about you what the hell was that?”

“God Kookie don’t start on me it’s been a long day, it’s fun to pick on her a little, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is you hurt her feelings,” Jungkook says a little louder still trying to control the rage he felt at the man sitting in nonchalance while he had his fists formed and jaws clenched. Jin shrugged his shoulders and Jungkook wondered what happened to his good friend, he was never like this before.

“Hyung you take advantage on her all the time, she literally does everything for you because she cares about you without expecting anything in return and you treat her like shit,” he explains, “it has to stop.”

“I don’t know why you’re lecturing me you brat,” Jin rolls his eyes, “I’m older than you by 5 years, learn some respect.”

Jungkook walked away before he laid his fist into his friend and lived to regret it, he didn’t realise you heard every word.

——————————————————————————

“Is he seriously not coming?”

It was stupid to hope that Jin would make an appearance while you both waited for him at home dressed and ready. He still hadn’t come from work... he finished two hours ago. You weren’t upset because you liked Jin, you were upset because you thought at least you meant something as a friend. Jin and Jungkook became what you thought were best friends for you, regardless of stupid feelings, you just thought they felt the same.

Jungkook stood next to your sitting form, moving his weight from foot to foot.

“I don’t think he is Noona, he said he wasn’t going to,” Jungkook sighed. “Why are we still waiting, we’re going to miss our reservation.”

He hated seeing you sad, if he could punch some sense into Jin he would, hell he’d punch him anyway for making you look so downcast. He sighs deeply again, throwing his head back in exasperation.

He kneels down in front of you, taking you hands into his as you look up slightly to meet his gaze. He has stars in his eyes, you think, why hadn’t you noticed before?

“Noona should we just cancel?” He asks delicately. “We can go get our pjs and order an Indian and have a stupid movie night.”

He was really trying to make things better you could feel it, your blatant emotions for his friend must’ve made him feel so uncomfortable but he’s still trying for you. You offer him a small smile.

“Sounds great Kookie,” you say sincerely.

——————————————————————————

“Oh my god are you kidding me!” Jungkook says half seriously yelling at you. “Iron man is way better than Batman.”

You laugh out so loud, you can’t remember the last time you felt like this.

“I didn’t mean it Koo,” you say between breaths of laughter. “You’re just so cute!”

He fights the red feeling blooming in his face as he pokes the inside of cheek with his tongue in faux annoyance. Jungkook was loving your impromptu movie night, it was the first time in forever you didn’t mention he who must not be named.

“That’s just cruel, you don’t joke about iron man, it’s blasphemy,” his words make you laugh harder and it makes him break out in a big grin, one that wipes away as you both hear the keys turn.

Jin was not expecting you both curled up on the sofa with take away containers on the coffee table when he walked home from a rather boring date. Your laughter dies in your throat before he even walked into the room, eyes boring into the tv. Jungkook keeps his arm around you in place, he felt warm and comfortable he didn’t want this feeling to end.

“Good date Hyung?” He doesn’t know why he asked when he could feel you stiffen in his hold.

“Yeah,” he says a little dazed at the sight in front of him. “did you guys not go out?”

“Nah we stayed in and had a iron man marathon,” the bunny teeth were out as he grinned.

“I lost Rock Paper Scissors,” you offered meekly. Why did you feel like you were cheating on Jin? That was ridiculous, you were not dating Jin and you were just friends with Jungkook, right? “Wanna join?”

He shakes his head, “no you guys look like you’re having fun, plus I’m a bit tired so I’m going to head to bed.”

You normally offer him some tea and cake at this point, but you stay silent, Jin tries not to read into why it makes his chest feel heavy with disappointment and something else he can’t quite figure out.

——————————————————————————

You were laughing loudly again, it was irritating the broad shouldered man to no end, he didn’t mind the sound honestly, he just hated the reason why you were in this state. Jungkook was making faces at you while you both cooked and honestly Jin couldn’t understand why you found it so funny.

“You look like a meme!” You chortle.

“Is dinner ready yet?” Jin interrupts.

“Patience Hyung,” Jungkook doesn’t break eye contact with you, still smiling brightly. He’s so pretty when he smiles, you felt like you hadn’t seen it for a while before your movie night.

“Are you two dating?” Jin slams his laptop shut in his outbreak, he didn’t mean to ask but it came out anyway. You nearly drop the plate you’re holding but Jungkook catches it before you let it go. Now your both holding a plate while staring at each other wide eyed, while Jin gawks at you both with a quiet anger simmering away inside of him.

Why are you both blushing furiously? Jungkook is the first to break away as he stares his Hyung down with his own anger.

“So what if we are?” He asks. “I don’t think it’s any of your business either way.”

“Jungkook...” you frown, you were not dating, why didn’t he just say no... why didn’t you just say no?

Jin scoffs, he couldn’t really say anything to that but it pissed him off.

“I didn’t realise you were into toy boys Y/n,” he jeers.

Now you were frowning at Jin as Jungkook started to shake with rage.

“I could treat her a lot better than you ever could,” he seethes back.

“You’re still a kid Jungkookie, Y/n always treats you like one,” did he seriously not hear the irony in his words?

“That’s enough!” It’s you that breaks up the inane argument. “Jungkook is not a kid Jin, just because he’s young and nice doesn’t make him any less of a man than you.”

They’re both shocked at your outburst.

“He’s been a wonderful friend to me for years, he’s always had my back, always looked out for me even when I was being a stupid idiot pining after you!”

The youngest of the trio can feel his chest full with warmth at your words and the way your glaring at the oldest with such disdain he never thought he’d see. Jin stays quiet at your onslaught starting to feel shame as he reflected on how he’s treated you through the years. He used to really adore you too, really appreciated everything you did for him but when everyone at work started treating him the same it became a normalcy, something expected instead of a gift.

“I’d be so lucky if Kookie dated me, although he’d be out of his mind to after how pathetic I’ve been, he’s the best guy I know, don’t speak to him like that.”

Jungkook can’t help the small smile fighting to turn the corners up on his mouth, Jin doesn’t miss the way he looks at you, full of love. You were an idiot not to see it, it had been there for a while.

“Noona, the pastas burning...”

You turn back to the stove feeling the heat in your face from your rant, you didn’t expect it from yourself to be honest. Jungkook stood beside you, mixing the sauce in the other pan while the room sat in silence.

He couldn’t help but steal glances at you, couldn’t help the hope in his heart build, maybe you felt the same way about him too. Maybe this is what redamancy feels like.

You try to sneak a peak at the man standing next to you, surprised to see his eyes already on you, you feel your heart stop for a second before it restarted anew.

You return his smile, you can’t help it.

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mynameliterallymeanslove · 3 years ago

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◇ The Ghost Of The Future ◇

~~~~~~~~

▪︎Five Dies AU▪︎

~~~~~~~~

Part Five

Ben is reading when the screams start, an old paperback book Five snuck away for him years ago, one he'd been gazing longingly at as they drove away from a mission next to a bookshop. It's worn, pages smudged from constant palming. He remembers the smug gap toothed grin Five had given him when he'd jumped into the room, pulling the book out from behind him, holding it out like a trophy.

He'd snickered at Ben's shocked gasp, the sound quiet and amused. He keeps that memory close to himself as he reads, pulling the memory of Five's soft snicker around himself like a blanket. Tries to imagine little Five tucked beside him as he reads like all those years ago. Pretend he can hear the faint whisper of Five's words as they read together.

" Told you I could do it "

" I can do it I know I can Ben, if Dad would just let me "

He does this this almost every night, sits and reads, trying to ignore the oppressive silence of the room across from his. The absolute lack of movement is......, stabbing unnerving

So lost in his thoughts he almost misses the first scream sound doesn't travel easily from the attic, he can't sleep near the others he's dangerous

The Horror however doesn't. It stirs awake, roiling around in his stomach, Ben is ripped from his daydream hunching over from the discomfort.

He doesn't miss the second scream, neither does the horror, it jolts awake pressing against Ben's ribcage, prodding and poking searching for a way out.

He pushes on his stomach, the action a futile attempt to calm the horror, his mind is flooded with various awful scenarios and he's halfway down the stairs before he comes to a stop. In the time it had taken to calm the horror, the screaming had stopped.

The creeping feeling of unease doubles. He listens carefully for the sound of the mission alarms, nothing. It's awfully still now, frozen and quiet, Ben hesitates.

Missions recently have been disasters, his control over The Horror, faltering and nebulous. He has no idea what is going on downstairs, storming in without any idea what the situation could easily make everything worse. Gripping the banister he whispers to himself

" What should i do ? "

The next scream answers his question

" FIVE ! "

Ben runs

Luther is zoning out, perhaps it isn't the most appropriate action at this point in time, but he can honestly admit to himself that he cannot be entirely blamed for his lack of attention. It is about three in the morning from what he can tell and Father has once again called him down to his office, pulled him from his bed for a private lecture conversation. Luther can only be grateful that they have not gone to the groove thus time, as he greatly doubts his coherency required for the trek.

Luther cannot make himself feel any shame or guilt for the feeling of exhaustion tugging at his very bones. He is so tired

He stifles a sigh and shifts in his chair

" Number One!, are you listening"

He snaps to attention

" Of course sir"

The usually well lit office is dim at the moment but he can see clearly the look of disapproval directed at him. Luther's hear twists

" I need you to understand that with Number Five gone you need to have firmer control over this team. You have the responsibility and duty as a the leader. The position was awarded with careful consideration towards the various temperaments...

Father keeps talking but something is prodding at Luther's mind, a slimy sick feeling begins to crawl up his throat. A feeling of upset is creeping over him, which he fails to push away.

Despite what the others like to think, Luther isn't actually stupid or completely oblivious. He can read through the lines and he knows exactly what Father means

" You need to have firmer control over the team "

You couldn't keep the team together

Five left and you couldn't stop him

Five left

Five is gone

You couldn't stop him

Its your fault

It's all your fault

I'm going to do it Number One and you cant stop me

" Am i perhaps boring you Number One ? "

Luther startles to attention

" Of course not sir i just-

Luther hears it first, faint and fleeting but still there. For a moment someone screamed

#allison hargreeves #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #number five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #dead five au #five dies au #spaceboy #ben hargreeves #the horror #tua fic #Ghost of the future

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clefairymuke · 4 years ago

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regrets | chapter sixteen

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1912

"You act like a child."

Levi's voice, though calm, rang a striking forte in the hushed atmosphere of his office. You were used to him raising his voice at you, of course, but this felt different. His repertoire of angry lectures with you were previously livened with notes of discipline and superiority; his tone, now, could only be described as personal.

Your blood ran cold as if the ice dripping from his voice had infected your veins. This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself, trying to make sense somewhere in the emotions of the man in front of you. "I act like a child?" you scoffed in an attempt to save face. You were unsure of what audience you were putting on for -- he saw right through you, and you knew it. You remembered your gleeful grin as you changed clothes before coming, how you practically celebrated with Jean when Levi was out of earshot. It was childish, but you were comfortable with that. It felt justified.

The scene in front of you was less than romantic: Levi stood to face you in front of his desk, his eyes narrowed to a glare. His face was less void of feeling than it typically was; his lips were drawn into a scowl and his brows dipped towards the corners of his slate eyes. There was no tea set, no papers strewn about, and no thing out of place. It was simply you, a spotless room, and an insufferably furious man a couple of yards away.

Your hands were balled into fists at your sides. You were angry in part because he had you figured out -- his first words to you upon your arrival were accusatory. He knew just as well as you did that you and Jean were playing a silly game. You both knew it was designed to get under his skin. This didn't make him any less pissed off, of course, and likely only fueled his fire further.

"Yes, you do," he asserted. His glare was unending and unforgiving, boring into you like knives as you put forth your best effort not to cower. "Children play fucking pretend."

"What makes you think it was pretend?" you questioned him, insulted by his critique of your acting skills. For the pain it required, you thought, you deserved a bit of recognition.

"Are you insinuating that you're actually in some kind of relationship with Kirstein?" he inquired, knuckles growing white as he dug his nails into his palms.

You considered your answer carefully -- admitting guilt too early may not lead to the most peaceful conversation; on the other hand, neither would keeping the lie going. Avoiding the question altogether seemed to be the most logical choice. "What does it matter to you anyway?" you asked him, trying to deflect. Regardless of your intentions, you were curious to hear his answer. If he truly didn't care about you as you did about him, he would have no opinion about what you did and didn't do with Jean -- or any other guy, for that matter.

"You know exactly why it matters to me," he hissed, his glare breaking momentarily to show the most minuscule bit of softness. It took no time to return to his hard, unforgiving stare.

You groaned, close to losing your cool. "I actually have no fucking clue why it would matter to you, Levi. I don't understand anything about how you feel," you told him, honestly yet harshly. Your breathing began to balloon your chest as you drew short, shallow breaths; the physical reaction behind your fury was conspicuous and annoying. "You haven't spoken to me outside of scolding since I was in the infirmary; even the last few days there, you gave me the cold shoulder without any explanation. How the hell am I supposed to know how you feel?"

You watched him sigh, removing his nails from his palms so that he could rest his face in his hands, his eyes hiding behind his fingers as considered your words. "You aren't --" he started, breaking off midway. There was a strange tone to his voice now, more understanding, more sad, yet still angry. It was like satin laid over barbed wire. "You aren't even supposed to be considering how I feel. You can't think of me that way."

Fury bellowed within you like a match on the floor of a rickety wooden house; it overtook you as the fire would, enveloping you completely and without remorse. Your mind raced with disbelief -- how were you to keep from thinking of him that way? He opened that door wide with his stupid, comforting teatime chats and tiny smiles, with tender touches and lingering caresses long past the hours that would be considered appropriate for him to be alone with you.

It took longer than you would have liked for the words to travel from your brain to your tongue. Now you were the one raising your voice. "You made me think of you that way! You're fucking impossible, Levi, do you know that? How can you pretend that there's nothing between you and me?"

"Because there is nothing between you and me. You have a stupid schoolgirl crush, and I'm trying to get these dumbass ideas out of your head," he argued, face twisting yet again. His words pressed tight against your heart, pain oozing through the rigid wall your anger had built by hand. Still, you refused to let it fall.

"Then why do you care so much about me putting on a show for you with Jean today? Why was it so important that I had to be called to your office like you're going to make me clean the dorms over it? Your words don't align one bit with your actions, but I'm the crazy one." Your hands shook at your sides as you yelled at him; you didn't care if Erwin, Hange, or every scout you knew heard you. You were sick of the embarrassment he brought you. For every second you've been happy with him, there was an equal and opposite force of mortification. You would yell at him until your voice couldn't handle it any longer -- anything to get your point across.

Seeing Levi so full of emotion was rare. If you weren't so overtaken by rage you might have saved a moment to appreciate it. His typical straight-set lips hung open as you watched all the things he wanted to say pass over his tongue. His eyes were dancing with anger, sadness, passion, yearning, annoyance, confusion -- all at once, one after the other like a montage of color. Your anger blinded you. You had a million and one harsh replies to a million harsh things you thought he could say, but you had no answer to what finally came out of his mouth when all of the emotion in his eyes settled within him.

"I knew you were doing it to bother me," he began, his tone gentler than it was before. "And the worst part was that it did. I couldn't stand to see someone touch you that way, even if it was all for show."

You hadn't expected that. The anger in you hadn't died, but the breath you took after hearing that was the most satisfying one you'd ever had, as if you were in atop a mountain breathing the cool oxygen for the first time. You studied him closely, meeting his soft eyes with the most understanding gaze you could muster. "Why couldn't you stand it?" you coaxed him, waiting to hear the words.

He let go an irritated sigh. "God damn it," he grumbled. He took a long step toward you, leaving only a few feet of distance now. "I --" he shook his head, "I can't do this with you."

You rolled your eyes with ever ounce of energy in your body. He came even closer, but you weren't paying attention. "Of course you can't. You get so close to finally just admitting the truth, and then you hide from it because it's impossible to admit that you have feelings for me." You were yelling again, despite how he was closing in on you. You hoped you were giving him a headache as he inched closer.

"It's inappropriate for you to even think that that's a possibility," he shouted back.

As he stood only a foot away and your words exchanged grew ever louder, you wondered where the crescendo would end. One of you would have to quiet down eventually -- and you would be damned before backing down. "I don't know why you think I give a shit about what's appropriate, Levi!"

"I know you don't give a shit. It's pretty fucking obvious."

"Then why are we even talking about this? Why didn't you just keep ignoring me?"

"Because I couldn't. I--" he broke off again, his eyes darting around to read your face. "I just -- You know what? Fuck it." Before you could process it, he took another step forward. His hand launched to the back of your head, the feeling of his fingertips somehow still gentle despite his rough movements as he pulled you towards him.

His lips crashed onto yours with a reckless abandon.

Your hands came to his chest to push him away, but once realization set in, you left them to rest there. His fingers began to tangle themselves in your hair as his inhibitions disappeared, every muscle losing its tension and every thought fading to static. What he lacked in the argument became clear in how he enveloped you; the screaming match seemed to continue into the way your lips battled, still ever-building.

Your hands left his chest to loop round his neck, one of them wandering off to grip his hair similar to the hold he had on you. His arm snaked around your waist to pull you flush against him, every curve in your body neutralized by a curve in his until it was difficult to tell where you ended and he began.

The time-slowing force that visited with absolute ecstasy had paid you mind, permitting you to relish in every movement. The kiss was deepening and deepening and deepening, leaving you to wonder what was left to explore, and yet still keeping you captivated with every second. In this moment, every doubt or worry was solved, and you would be content to never experience anything else; to stay clutched tightly in Levi's arms seemed like a well-enough fate to spend all of eternity. Despite your pleas to whatever controlled the universe to leave you just where you were forever, it had to end. The sight you saw when he pulled away was almost as satisfying as the kiss itself: Levi, eyes wide and almost frenzied, lips red and the tiniest bit swollen. When he pulled away, he did nothing to alter the position of your bodies, still pressed as tightly together as humanly possible, unsure of how to separate and not wanting to find out, either. He gazed into your eyes for only a second, light pants filling the space between you as you searched each other's faces for answers to questions you were unsure of. You brought your hand from the back of his head to rest on his cheek, tilting your head just slightly as if to get a better look.

Without exchanging words, the two of you had finally come to an agreement. You closed your eyes as his lips attacked yours once again.

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sidespart · 4 years ago

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The Fall of King Romulus part 4

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

“I will grant them handsome features and beguiling voices,” the maiden whispered, her own voice dripping with honey “that all who great them will be blessed from the meeting.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work!” Remus grinned smugly when Romulus was deposited back in in their room, their nanny shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Urghh.” Romulus whined as he hurled himself face first onto Remus’ bed, making his giggling brother bounce from the impact. “But it should have! It always does in the stories!”

What was the point of having a twin, Romulus wondered if they couldn’t even switch places to get him out of boring geography lessons?

Remus poked him until Romulus rolled over onto his side to pout at his brother.

“It’s because I’m better lookin’ than you.” Remus told him cheerfully.

Romulus thwacked him with a pillow. “We’re identical!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus grabbed a second pillow from the floor, “I’m still the cute one!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are to – oof!”

The pillow fight soon descended into a wrestling match, their shrieks and giggles echoing through the bed chamber.

Eventually they ran out of breath and Remus flopped back down on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge. Romulus collapsed on the floor amongst the fallen pillows, batted Remus’ foot away from his face and gazed up at the family portrait hanging above their fire place.

They were identical. The artist had taken care to draw the crown prince a little bigger than his brother, closer to the forefront of the picture, but even so; their hair, eyes, nose - everything was the same.

Romulus glanced up at his brother, who was currently digging snot out his nose with every sign of enjoyment. Romulus gagged. They were not the same -Remus was gross!

Except.

Everyone said what a handsome young man Remus was growing up to be. How brightly his eyes sparkled. How confidently he held himself, even as a child. They never said that stuff about Romulus.

Remus shone, even when he was being gross.

“Your voice is better.” Remus said suddenly, snapping Romulus out of his sulk.

“What?”

“Your voice.” The older twin lent over the bed, staring his brother in the eye “It’s nicer than mine, ‘specially when you sing.” Romulus beamed, showing off his gap toothed smile. Their parents had hired teachers to drill both boys on the lute and harpsicord, but Romulus’ talent for singing was all him.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Remus smiled back at him. He’d lost a baby tooth that week too – one of his canines, giving him lopsided fangs. “And you’re way better at crying.”

“What! Well – your feet are stinker!”

“You’re worse at pranks!”

“Well you’re worse at fencing!”

“But l I’m the best at tickling!” declared Remus and leapt from the bed, pinning Romulus with his knee whilst his fingers attacked his brothers armpits. The younger prince’s peals of laughter and cries for mercy were so loud nanny came rushing back to check on them, finding the future rulers of Notaleveale wrapped around each other on the floor, covered in dust and wearing matching smiles.

“I will grant them strength and creativity.” The mother smiled, she had a thousand eyes and all of them twinkled under the halls many candles “so that their rule will never be questioned.”

“Lord Venchi?” Romulus asked.

The royal treasurer, normally one of the more composed members of his father council, was pacing the entrance hall alone, what little hair he had left sticking up in all directions as he tugged at it.

“Oh, Your Highness!” The he gasped when he caught sight of Romulus, “oh thank goodness! He-“

Romulus sighed. “What has my brother done now?”

Romulus had spent the morning on a rare visit into town, missing the days council meeting. It was completely unfair - Romulus attended meetings almost daily, under Julius supervision, as part of his training to one day take over managing whichever aspect of the kingdom bored the future King Remus the most. They were mind numbingly dull sessions and it was only Julius’ steady glare that kept Romulus’ eyes open and his face attentive.

But today, visitors from the far south were attending. Which meant the session might actually be interesting. Which meant Remus got to go, and Romulus was immediately barred from entry. Instead, his father had asked him to represent the family at the ceremonial graduation of the latest batch of city watch recruits. So, instead of hearing tales from beyond the kingdoms borders, he had spent most of the day on a podium waving dispassionately at a crowd of braying onlookers.

It was always daunting, being around so many common folk. They lacked the decorum of the nobles at court. Whilst most seemed content to gape and sigh at him from a distance, there was always one who would shout out ‘my prince, look at me!’, ‘come here!’, ‘kiss my baby!’

Even with his fathers voice ringing in his ears – “no matter what you hear, stay by your guards side until you are back in the palace.” – Romulus had spent the day tense and unhappy, pinpricks of pain dancing in his skull. By the time he was allowed to speak he had quite forgotten his prepared speech and been forced to make up a quick poem on the spot. The crowd had seemed happy enough – the watch captain had tears in his eyes - but he knew neither Julius or his parents would be happy with his improvising once his guards had reported in.

He had hoped to get a few hours alone before the inevitable lecture, and were it anyone else he might have tried to sneak by without getting pulled into whatever chaos Remus had caused.

But Venchi was an old ally, one who had served his father wisely for years and who always took the time to compliment Romulus on his few measured contributions to the councils discussions, or to explain carefully any point he had missed.

He had also seen Remus at council. There shouldn’t have been anything left that the older prince could do to shock him to this extent.

“He-“ the old man looked like he couldn’t quite believe his own words, “He flipped the table.”

Romulus stared at him. The council table was ancient and enormous, made of a stone so old it’s real name has been lost. Moving it was impossible, the palace had practically been built around it.

“The Arkazeii ambassador is being seen by a healer.” Venchi continued, “but I believe his foot Is broken, I-“

The side door behind them slammed open suddenly, crashing into the wall with enough force to make the hanging portraits shake. “I said.” Remus roared, a snarl on his handsome face, “Leave me alone!”

His voice was so forceful Romulus found he had taken three steps towards the main door before he stopped himself, face flushing. The order hadn’t been meant for him. Julius, who had clearly been chasing after the young crown prince, was now openly glaring down at Remus, two spots of colour high on his cheeks.

“Your highness I must insist-“

“Seriously?” Remus cackled, “You’re insisting? Juju, honestly, I am not interested in what you have to say.” He barred his teeth at the King’s advisor, eyes wild, “If my father wants me he can come get me himself but if not you can go and -oh.”

“Hello Remus.” Romulus sighed, giving the shortest bow he could get away with, “I hear your meeting went well.”

Remus eyes narrowed “Hello Romy, have fun getting your butt kissed in town?” he slug his arm around his brother’s neck, adopting a high pitched, sing song tone in apparent impression of the townsfolk “Oh Prince Romulus, you’re sooo clever and handsome and perfect. Won’t you pretty please sign an autograph and let me suck your di-“

“Your highness, please!” Venchi looked disgusted “There is no need for vulgarity.”

“Aww hey Vee! Wow, your hair is really going, you know the balder you get the more you look like my ballsack? Romy – I’m serious, picture him with two heads” he held up his thumbs and index fingers and positioned them in front of the red-faced treasurer like a frame “I can’t be the only one that sees this.”

“You are.” Romulus snapped, shrugging his brothers arm off of his shoulders, “Did you really break the Arkazeii ambassadors foot?”

“The Arkazeii ambassador deserved it.” Remus snarled, good humour vanishing instantly. “They want to dig up Orenlla till it’s hollow. Use the rock to turn their sky black. Have you heard the stories outta that place? All the chickens are dying, ’s a travesty.”

“The chickens are- what? Just. Whatever. Not liking his trade ideas doesn’t mean you can hurt him!”

Remus eyes were always sparkling. Like a man on the brink of madness. “I can do whatever I want little brother.” He grinned at him with too many teeth, “you should try it sometime.”

“Your sons have all the makings of rulersss” the final fae smiled, her one golden eye glinting in the depth of her cloak. “My gift is for you. I give your children honestly and obedience.” She smiled sweetly, “May they bring you joy.”

“Your father is sick” Julius told him.

I know that Romulus thought but didn’t say. Watching the old man carefully.

They were in Julius practice room, at the top of the northmost turret, where Romulus had spent so much of his childhood.

“There is of course, still hope. And we have the finest healers, from every corner of the Kingdom.” Julius was pacing as he spoke, wringing his hands. It was profoundly odd, to see the old man so unsettled. But he had known Romulus’ father from when they were both boys. He loved him, as much as he was capable of loving anyone, and he loved the kingdom that he helped rule.

So Romulus found he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been with what Julius said next.

“Your brother cannot be allowed to take the throne.”

Since Romulus curse had been recognised, his parents had taken great pains to limit the brothers’ interactions, for both of their safety.

Remus could not keep a secret.

Remus was honest. He was honest at their mothers funeral when he’d announced to the mourners that she was ‘a bitch by anyone’s definition’ and honest later than evening when he’d sobbed into Romulus’ shoulder and cried that he would miss her.

He was honest when he announced to Romulus causally, over are rare shared meal, that he dreamed about killing him. “I’d do it with a morning star” he told him, slapping his spoon down onto the head of a roasted tomato and watching the red pulp fly about his plate. “Just like that.”

He was honest when he forced his way into Romulus’ room at night, shook him awake and told him, shaking, that the palace was haunted. That voices whispered to him from every corner - so loud that he couldn’t sleep.

He was honest when Romulus asked him, baffled, why are you telling me this. “I trust you.” Remus admitted, his voice thick, “You’re the only one I can trust.”

Just because he was honest, didn’t mean he was right.

Romulus gazed at Julius, his face carefully blank – a skill he had perfected over many council meetings.- and said “I don’t think you can order me to change our birth order.”

“No.” Julius smiled, and had the decency to look pained. “That’s not what I’m going to ask.”

In this room, Julius had tried every trick to strip Romulus of his curse. And when he failed, he’d dedicated himself to learning every possible way it could be exploited. In order to help protect him, of course.

“Sit there and listen to me until I finish.”

If Romulus didn’t hear an order in full, even if he could guess it, it could be ignored. As a child he’d sometimes escape his teachers simply by running away before they could give him the next task.

“The next time you lay eyes on your brother, kill him. Ensure no one can trace it back to you.”

Vague orders were still orders, and often more effective than those that were too direct. If he couldn’t prevent someone from seeing him, then he would have to kill the witness too in order to obey the instructions in full.

“Let no one know you did it. Tell no one of our conversation”

There was, by now, a long list of things Romulus was forbidden from talking about. It was one of Julius’ favourite orders to give.

“If anyone contradicts this order, ignore them.”

Contradictions were tricky. Normally the most recent order would take precedence, but often enough once the newer order had been completed, the old one would return.

“Do you understand me, Price Romulus?”

Romulus nodded and some of the tension left Julius’ shoulders.

He smiled at Romulus then, and lent over the bush back a strand of hair that had fallen across the young man’s face. He left his hand on Romulus cheek and gazed at him like he really was a kindly old mentor and Romulus his favoured pupil.

“This year, it will be the rise of King Romulus. You will be a just and fair ruler. I’ll make sure of it.”

***

As the second son of a King, Romulus future had never been certain.

His parents discussed it often. He should have become a commander in the army, or a leader of the church or married off to a neighbouring princess and become king in his own right. With all options too likely to lead to discovery however, it had been decided he would stay home, construct a reputation of studious detachment and become his brothers distant advisor.

Help him. Protect him.

Like Julius protected them.

Instead, Romulus ran away and became Roman.

Roman was loud and confident and sprouted poetry and song without hesitation. He basked in the attention from crowds and flirted with every pretty face who crossed his path. He worked and earned for himself and argued back with anyone who disagreed with him and never sat still if he could help it. He kept Romulus and his memories of home buried so deep sometimes he forgot he’d ever had another name.

Even so, there had always been, at the back of his mind, the paranoia of this day. When he would be found. Recognised. Forced back to Romulus life.

He just didn’t think when it happened it would be so embarrassing.

They’d reached a fork in the road. The Marquis paused and whipped his head from side to side, presumably checking for witnesses although it looked more like he was trying to shake water free from his ears. He stepped in front on Roman.

“You.” He enunciated slowly and loudly “Turn left. Okay? Le – e -e f -t”

Roman stared at him.

He had been kidnapped by an idiot.

With great deliberation he rested all his weight on one foot and turned left. And then kept turning, spinning in a circle a few times until the Marquis hissed “no!” and grabbed his arm.

And then dropped it immediately, wiping his hand on his sleeve.

“You. Just – follow me, alright? This way.”

Roman rolled his eye but did as he was told. The man could have just told him in the beginning to follow him to wherever their destination was, and Roman would have done so. There was no need to give him a new instruction every few paces. But if the Marquis – what was his first name? Romulus must have known at some point – didn’t know the ins and outs of his curse then Roman wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

They continued on, the Marquis stopping every three feet to stare at him, or repeat some instruction, or glare at a crumpled map in his hands. Roman despaired. Romulus had had a crush on this man.

At first, Roman assumed he would lead him towards the Royal Palace and present his find to the Princess or to whatever other Notalevealian nobles were already here for the coronation. But instead he tugged him away from the wider streets, back down hill towards the main sprawl of the city.

“Where are you taking me, villain?” Roman asked after twenty minutes of marching “because I’m pretty sure we’ve passed that street lamp three times already.”

“Somewhere where your little friend won’t be able to help you.” the Marquis muttered, glaring at the lamp in question.

Roman felt his heart freeze. His friend?

He supposed it made sense. There was no conceivable way they could have been followed in the woods. Not without Patton or Virgil noticing. The Marquis must have spotted him in the market and followed from there, which means he would have at least seen Logan, perhaps the others too since he had been at the tavern…

Although why would a noble be at the Stevangie street market?

He tried not to let his anxiety show on his face, puffing his chest out and summoning his most haughty glare.

“Listen to me, lordling, if any harm should come to them I will personally-“

“Them?” The Marquis stumbled, map fluttering to the floor. When he spun to glare at Roman his eyes were enormous. “How many are there?”

Roman blinked, haughty glare ruined by his genuine confusion. “Erm,” he tried “lots?”

The Marquis audibly gulped, but before Roman could even attempt to interpret that the man’s face brightened, his gaze caught on something behind Roman. He smirked, some swagger returning to his step.

“No matter.” He said and grabbed Romans arm, dragging him towards a nondescript building in the centre of the street, unlocking the door and shoving the bard through.

It was a bath house. The back entrance, perhaps, but the damp in the air and smell of scented soap was unmistakable.

Roman tried, in his sleep-deprived, underfed, over-stressed state, to come up with a reasonable explanation for this.

He had nothing.

“Why-“

“Shut up” The Marquis snapped. “Walk that way.” He pushed Roman down a long corridor, past arched doorways through which he caught a glimpse of the bathhouse proper, and into a dusty looking stairwell. He had produced a candle from somewhere, but the dim light did very little to illuminate anything as they gingerly picked their way down.

When they finally reached the bottom floor Roman squinted to see boxes and crates of empty bottles– a storage room? But he had no time to take it all in before he was being dragged through another pair of doors. Two more rooms and another set of stairs later and the Marquis finally stopped.

The room he’d led them to was hot and humid. Sweat dripped down Romans nose after only a few seconds. At first he couldn’t work out what the noise that filled the room was, until his eyes adjusted enough to see the tubes running from the floor to ceiling.

“You’re lucky to see this.” The Marquis had to raise his voice over the rush of running water to be heard “This room is a modern miracle – the lifeblood of the city!”

Steveange’s heated bath houses were famous. So much so even Virgil had heard of them, and he seemed to take pride in knowing nothing about the outside world. Roman had assumed the city must have been built on hot springs or some other natural source, but this was something else.

“The furnace is below us.” The Marquis explained, as he propelled Roman towards the back wall. “The pipes bring water from the river, it’s heated and pumped up and out to every bathhouse in the city.”

He grinned with something like pride as he tapped one of the pipes above Romans head, making it sing, “Arkazeii engineering and Orenllan iron. Lined with Orenllan copper of course…give me your jacket.”

“But. Notaleveale doesn’t trade it’s ores” Roman blinked rapidly, trying to remove the sweat from his eyes, as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Jacket was a generous term – it was a silken red thing, better suited to performances than travelling. But he enjoyed the way it billowed as he walked. The Marquis took it and without so much as a moments respect for the garment, ripped one of the sleeves clean off.

“Hey!”

“You’ve been away a long time.” the Marquis snarled, “you little fae touched traitor.”

Roman gaped at him, even as the man grabbed his right arm and began attempting to tie it to the nearest pipe.

“I used to look up to you” the Marquis continued, “you were everything a Prince should be. But you betrayed your father and put a curse of madness on your brother - all because of your own petty jealousy!”

He squeezed Romans wrist with enough force to leave bruises. And stepped back to admire his handywork. The silky material had no grip and it was painfully obvious the man was not used to getting his hand dirty. The resulting knot looked more like a bow. “You are no prince of mine.”

“Lucius.“ Roman knew he’d known his name. “That’s not true. That’s- that’s not even a clever story! Who came up with that?”

“Shut up.” Some of the panic from the journey had come back to Lucius’ eyes but it faded quickly “And don’t think you can scare me with my name, there is more iron in this room then anywhere else in the city.”

He grinned at Roman nastily. “Your little friends aren’t coming to save you.”

Roman stayed quiet, mind whirling. They thought Remus was cursed?

Well. He was. But not in the way Lucius seemed to believe.

They wouldn’t send a mad man to another kingdoms coronation would they? Had the seller actually been certain Remus was coming?

Tied up, exhausted and with a man who seemed to hate him glaring down, Roman started to giggle in giddy relief.

Lucius stepped back, looking unsettled, before reaching out, roughly grabbing Romans chin and shoving the remnants of his jacket into his mouth. “Stay here,” he told him, slowly and clearly “until I come back with your transport.”

He stood, taking the candle with him to the door. He paused for one moment before leaving, the flickering light illuminating a cruel smirk. “You had better hope I can arrange it before the furnaces come back on.” And he was gone.

Roman glanced above himself into the darkness, where his wrists were strapped tight to the currently cool metal. A rush of fear went through him, finally bringing him down from the giggling hysteria.

Alone In the dark, tried to think.

Roman was a bad friend. He lied to his companions as easy as breathing and took his own fears out on them.

Romulus was a bad prince. He had abandoned his kingdom and his subjects and allowed some sort of conspiracy to spring up in his wake.

But he was a good brother. Remus was alive. And he would stay that way.

After all, this afternoon he thought that Remus was here. That he would have to confront his past, escape the city, evade every member of the Notalevealian court and his own friends and steal a horse.

Now all he had to do was get out of this basement and outwit one idiot who could barely tie knots and hadn’t even thought to pat him down to check for hidden daggers.

Easy-peasy he thought, his eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion finally overtook him.

Part 5

#roman sanders #sanders sides #remus sanders #creativitwins #sanders sides fic #ts: fall of romulus #sidespart writes

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anonymouslyangsty · 3 years ago

Note

Been seeing a lot of taka lives au which is *chefs kiss* but it really does make me wonder just how difficult taka's physical and mental healing process would be if he survived the hit.

Chefs make out session more like it

But that's a really good question. Like, this boy has a horrible time. He makes his first friend in a death game, only to have said friend brutally murdered in front of him. Then he gets depressed, has a total mental breakdown that ends with him adopting his dead friend's personality, then gets bludgeoned half to death.

Yeah, Kiyotaka is going through it.

And yes, he's the Ultimate Moral Compass. But at that point, you really have to question if his upbeat, kind personality can endure. We already saw him break under the weight of the loss of Mondo, and I don't think he'll ever fully recover from that break.

I don't think he'd snap and break his morals, but I can't see him going back to his normal cheerful demeanor either.

Maybe he'd give up his title of Moral Compass. He failed to keep the students alive, he failed to save Mondo, he lost control and threatened another student, then he broke the rules to try to find an exit. After all that, does he really deserve his Ultimate? He's done nothing but fail the people around him.

Not to mention that Mondo's death in itself shattered his entire worldview. Because how could Mondo, a man he looked up to so much, be a killer? Taka has a very black and white view of the world, and Chihiro's murder utterly shatters that. I don't think he'd be able to pick up the pieces easily.

And honestly? I could see this segwaying into him actually making friends that aren't Mondo. Because to be honest, it's clear that Mondo was his only friend there. Makoto and Hiro were also pretty nice to him, but besides that, he’s kinda disliked or tolerated at best.He's not very popular, and a part of that is because he's so strict.

But if he gives up on his title? Then he doesn't need to be as perfect. He doesn't need to carry the burden of taking care of everyone. And sure, he'll frame it as "I'm not worthy of such a role" rather than "I shouldn't carry the weight of every life here", but the end result of him taking on way less responsibility is there.

Without that strong need to take care of everyone, Taka would feel less obligated to lecture everyone. Plus, he can be less strict with both his classmates and himself. Because let's be honest. Taka deserves a nap and a hobby that isn't studying or working out.

(Dang, now I wish Hifumi was still alive in this situation: I want him to try to show Taka some anime)

Slightly off topic here, but I don't think the title of Ultimate Moral Compass is doing Taka any favors. Yes, morals are important. Yes, working hard is vital. However, Taka is so extreme that he denies himself the ability to relax and also seriously hinders his ability to socialize.

Without the burden of that ultimate, Kiyotaka would have a much richer life. Which is ironic in a way. Kiyotaka thinks that one cannot succeed without hard work, which is true. But can one thrive without a life outside of work? No. And it's only through giving up, something Taka would normally never do, that he can start really bonding with the other students.

Also, if Kiyotaka gives up his Ultimate, then he can be mean to Togami. He doesn't need to take the highroad anymore. Taka gets to punch the hell out of Togami because his bro never got to.

This can all lead to a new Kiyotaka by the end of the game. One that is still trying to help everyone, but is far more open to different points of view. One who is more flexible, and thus more resilient. One who doesn't carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Because no, he is not fit to lead them. He's already failed them time and time again. But that doesn't mean he has to give up either. Mondo wouldn't want him to.

So I mainly talked about character evolution, but there's still the physical to consider. He got freaking bludgeoned over the head. And yeah, I hear that head wounds bleed a lot even if they aren't bad, so it may look worse than it is. But still. He's not walking away from that without a concussion.

And I love the idea of that being an excuse for him and Sakura to hang out more. Because of all the group, she and Hina probably have the most experience with injuries, so it'd make sense for those two to take care of while he's healing.

I feel like that situation has so much room for character development! Because let's be honest here, it would've been so cool if Hina and Sakura actually tried helping Taka after Mondo's death. It seems in character for them, because both are very kind people. So this gives the chance to make this happen.

Plus I just think those 3 would have a great dynamic. Both Taka and Hina are loud, expressive, and passionate. With Kiyotaka abandoning his ultimate, he'd have no reason to refuse Hina's indulgent attempts to cheer him up. They can eat doughnuts together <3

Sakura and Taka are both strict, determined, and moral. So I think they could both get along really well! Let them drink tea together, and Sakura can give him some wisdom. She can help him realize that good people can make bad decisions, and that bad decision doesn't immediately make them evil. Good advice given Mondo's death, plus foreshadowing.

Also! I love how this could lead into Sakura's death! Sakura being the traitor would once again fit into that whole "oh no my friend who I see as morally good did something horrible" thing. But now, without the weight of his talent and a more flexible worldview, Kiyotaka can withstand that type of blow.

I can see him and Hina being the ones to vouch for Sakura, to look for solutions rather than attacking her. And when Sakura does die, and Hina has her breakdown, Kiyotaka can be there for her. He knows all too well what it's like to lose a friend to the death game.

Just...let Taka and Hina be friends. Let them be part of the "I made a buff friend in the death game but they became a blackened and died. Also fuck Togami" club together.

So basically: Taka gets a more healthy level of depressed (not comatose) and abandons his talent. That lets him explore more things about life, even if they aren’t related to school. He makes friends with Hina and Sakura, who help him with balancing work and fun (Hina), and having a more flexible view on morality (Sakura).

Then Sakura dies, and Kiyotaka is better equipped to be a comfort to Hina.

#Taka says 'i'm not perfect' and gets character develpment #kiyotaka ishimaru #aoi asahina #sakura ogami #danganronpa #an ask tag

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charlie-boio · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Here For You

Summary: Stiles has been avoiding you for a few weeks and you aren’t sure what’s wrong. Is this the end of your friendship?

Word Count: 3200

A/N: I enjoyed this little idea. Hope you do too. It’s pretty cute in my humble opinion. Also I based their high school schedule (like how long their classes last) off of where I graduated high school so I know it’s probs different but idc. Also I’m not super comfortable with how well written this is but I like it 😊

WARNINGS: angsty, but with some well deserved fluff

You took in a short breath, and then another. Your knees were starting to burn, the back of your throat felt like it had been scorched, and your head was pounding. The pain and nausea in your stomach wasn’t going away, but you thought that you didn’t have much left to throw back up. At this point, you were merely dry heaving.

These past few weeks have already been pretty much hell for you. For the past three weeks, Stiles had been bailing on your Friday movie nights, and last Friday was no exception. You didn’t even bother to text him and ask if he was coming, and apparently, he hadn’t cared.

Feeling the lowest you had ever felt in your life, you had just decided to melt into your bedding and binge watch cooking shows. What had started as a dull ache on Friday had taken a dramatic turn for the worse on Monday, and you simply could not catch a break with the pile on of essays, projects, and tests that your teachers handed you.

In all honestly, you could not catch a break. Never mind the slow burn of feelings that were building inside of you for Stiles, but now it appears you were also losing him as a friend. Which hurt…more than anything.

You shook your head, feeling yourself shudder. Standing on shaky legs, you flushed and went to rinse out your mouth.

“Just get through school,” you muttered. “Then you can go home and sleep this off.”

You finally left the bathroom and walked slowly towards your class, hand clutching desperately at your right side. Grimacing with each step, you opened the door and shuffled inside.

“About damn time! Get back in your seat y/l/n!” Coach Finstock barked at you, causing everyone’s eyes to snap up and pierce right through you. You shrunk into yourself more than you already were.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, walking carefully over to your seat without disturbing your side too much, which was a fruitless task. Sitting down, you looked over a Scott, whose eyebrows were furrowed together. Stiles didn’t bother looking up, his face buried in his notebook. You felt your heart break just a little more at the sight, so you forced a smile and whispered that you were okay, knowing that he could hear you. Scott’s eyebrows stayed knit together, but he turned away from and put his attention back on Coach’s lecture, letting the matters drop for now.

Coach’s class went by in a foggy haze, the occasional stabbing pain in your side brought you back to reality until the bell rang. Stiles jumped out of his seat and rushed out the door, not sparing you a glanced. Scott was close behind him, but not before sending you another worried look, to which you gave him a forced smile. His eyebrows furrowed, but he left anyways.

You moved slowly, face grimacing with each step. You couldn’t help your mind wandering to Stiles, imaging him helping you through the hallways to your next class. You two always used to walk together…

Shaking your head, you continued forth, barely managing to make it to your next class on time. Thankfully, you didn’t have another class with Stiles until after lunch, but you had this class with Lydia.

“y/n are you feeling okay?” Lydia asked, her face etched with concern.

“I’m fine, just a little nauseous, nothing to be worried about,” you said, but your wavering voice betrayed you. Lydia quirked up an eyebrow and pressed the back of her hand to your forehead.

“You’re awfully warm sweetie. I know you said, ‘You’re fine,’ but maybe you should go home. Just in case,” she said sweetly.

“I can’t. My parents are out of town for their anniversary.”

“What about Stiles? He usually gives you a ride to school anyways right?” Not for two weeks, Not for two weeks, you thought sadly.

“Um-I-“

“Girls, pay attention please!” your teacher snapped at you two. You and Lydia mumbled your apologies. Thankfully, class went by without another opportunity for you to talk to Lydia, and when the bell rang, you two parted ways since her class was across the school.

You managed to get through your next two classes, trying to pay attention to your teachers and zone out the stabbing pain in your side, the pounding in your head, and the heavy weight in your heart. You were hoping and praying with all of your might that you could get through the rest of the day. You weren’t sure how the fuck you would get home, but you decided you’d cross that bridge when you got there.

If you get there, you thought miserably, but you quickly shook that thought from your head. You were overreacting, obviously. How could you be so stupid? You got your period on Saturday, and occasionally they could be a little extreme.

“Stiles, you really didn’t have to do any of this…” you said sweetly, a small smile stamped on your face.

“Come on, kid. You’re my best friend, of course I’m gonna take care of you!” Stiles said, flashing you a toothy grin.

He had surprised you out of the blue, hearing that you had gotten your period and that it was kicking your ass this month. Stiles brought chocolate, popcorn, movies (Star Wars, obviously), blankets, one of his sweatshirts, sour patch kids, and a heating pad after you had complained that yours broke. He spent the next hour setting everything up and not allowing you to lift a finger despite your protests.

After settling down, you had tried to cuddle with him like you two usually do, but your cramps weren’t having it so you settled for having your head in his lap, the heating pad laid across your lower abdomen, blankets curled around both of you while Stiles continuously ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you.

“Any better?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,”

“Come on, kid. You don’t have to lie to me. Not ever…”

“It is better, since you came and helped me,” you turned your head slightly to look up at him, and you saw his swirling amber eyes looking down at you with adoration. You felt your heart skip a beat while you smiled at him.

Stiles leaned down quickly and placed a lingering kiss to your head. “You know I’m always gonna be here for you kid. Always,” he mumbled into your head.

You closed your eyes and sighed happily, his fingers resuming running through your hair. You could’ve died happily in his arms.

Bitter tears that burned your eyes welled up, threatening to fall at the memory. What did I do…? You thought miserably to yourself.

Closing your eyes, you shook your head, ridding yourself of both the tears and the memory. If you cried right now, the pounding in your head would only get even worse, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last like this.

Unfortunately, the bell rang for the end of fourth period, and fifth was lunch with the rest of the pack, including Stiles. You felt a pool of dread hit the bottom of your stomach. Stiles used to sit next you at lunch, cracking jokes back and forth with his sarcastic comments. Now, he sat as far away from as he could, and you had a feeling that today would be no exception.

Sure enough, walking into the cafeteria you saw all of your friends sitting together, happily chatting away. There was a seat saved for you on the far right while Stiles sat at the far left across the table from you, right next to Lydia. For once, it didn’t look like Stiles was drooling over her; instead they were quietly arguing about something, but you were too far away to hear what it was.

Still, you sat down and did your best to smile through the physical and mental pain of everything. However, your stomach had decided to dial up the pain a notch, making sure it was something you no longer could ignore. With each beat of your heart your head pounded louder and louder, the voices around you starting to fade.

Uh oh. This isn’t good I need to get out of here!

You tried to stand, legs wobbly, but the second you stood up your vision began to tunnel, your pain double by the second. You could vaguely hear Scott, and you felt the pack’s eyes on you.

“I need to…to…” you stuttered, and you felt your knees buckle as you sank to the floor. Before you could hit the ground hard, a pair of strong arms snaked around you, breaking your fall. You could vaguely hear someone scream for help.

Your breath hitched, ears ringing as you fell into darkness.

“HELP! PLEASE SHE NEEDS HELP!” Stiles shouted through the hospital, nurses and doctors rushing over. You were in his arms bridal style after you had passed out in the cafeteria. He had managed to catch you before you could hit your head, and he had sprinted as fast as he could to his jeep to drive you to the hospital.

That was two hours ago, and there hadn’t been any word on y/n’s condition. Not even Melissa could tell them anything, and Stiles was getting tired of hearing ‘We are doing everything we can right now,’

“Stiles?” Scott asked gently.

For the first time in his life, he was still. Absolutely still. He didn’t fidget with his hands, bounce his knee, or even pace. He merely sat there; hands clasped together. He didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore; all he did was stare at the floor and just let every single one of his negative thoughts rush through his head.

“Stiles,” Scott said a little more forcefully. Stiles barely turned his head, his drawn low.

“Look I already know what you’re gonna say-“

“The ‘I’m Gonna Avoid Her So My Crush Can Go Away’ plan? The one that everyone thought was the stupidest idea ever?” Lydia interjected, having found about this plan at lunch.

“Stop it, okay? I get it!” Stiles snapped, then he sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, it’s just…I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known something was wrong. We’re best friends…she’s never gonna forgive me,” Tears lined Stiles’ eyes. Turns out he did have more to spare.

“Stiles, you and y/n are idiots,” Stiles’ head snapped up, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “You two have edging around a relationship for at least three years at this point, and each time you’ve both been like ‘Oh there’s no way they like me back!’ Seriously! I’m tired of hearing it,”

“Scott, what if it’s too late? We don’t know what’s going on-“

“Why am I not surprised that you’re all here?” Melissa’s voice came out with a carefree tone. She had a clipboard with her, and she looked relatively at ease. Immediately Stiles shot up and made his way over, his hands fidgeting with each other, not taking note of Melissa’s relaxed stance.

“What happened? Is she okay?” Stiles asked, his eyes pleading. Melissa gave him a reassuring smile.

“Stiles, relax. She’s totally fine. She just had appendicitis, nothing super major I promise,”

Stiles took a deep breath, feeling the tension from waiting around slip away from him. He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. “She’s…she’s gonna be okay?” he asked tentatively.

Melissa smiled at him. “She’s going to be just fine,” she looked over her shoulder, then lowered her voice. “Now, usually it’s family only, but for you I’ll make an exception. ONLY Stiles,” she finishes when everyone else tried to rush past her. Melissa gave him a knowing look, telling him the room number.

Suddenly standing behind the closed door of your room, he felt his anxiety come crashing down again. He had acted like a complete idiot these past few weeks, not being to stand the fact that you would probably never feel the same way about he as he felt about you. He thought he was doing what was best for both of you. Now he wasn’t sure if you’d even want him around as a friend anymore.

I wouldn’t he thought to himself miserably. It took a few more deep breaths before he was ready to open the door.

Thankfully, you were asleep, but he hated how pale you still looked. The hand with the IV laid across your stomach, your chest rising slowly as you took in deep breaths. Stiles crossed over to your left side and pulled up a chair, taking your left hand and placing a gentle kiss to the top of it. With his free hand, he slowly pushed a stand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear.

He had almost lost you today. Appendicitis was a simple procedure, sure, but what if something worse had happened? What if it was something worse, and he missed it because he was too cowardly to tell you how you felt?

“No more hiding,” Stiles whispered to you. He settled his head against the bed on your side. His hand that wasn’t laced with yours was gently stroking your arm while his eyes dropped lower and lower until complete exhaustion finally took over and he fell into a fitful sleep.

Your body felt light and heavy at the same time. This didn’t feel like your bed, or the cafeteria where you were last. You could vaguely remember being carried, but it was all a pain filled blur. You scrunched your face before peeling your eyes open, your heart skipping a beat. There you saw Stiles, one arm resting on your leg while the other clutched yours. You couldn’t help the small smile that spread across your face. Was he really here?

You moved your hand to run through his hair, causing him to stir. Stiles looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed together before shooting up into his hairline.

”You’re awake!” he jumped out of his seat, his hand never leaving yours. A huge grin broke out across his face which contradicted the tears that fell from his eyes. He leaned over and pressed a long kiss to your forehead, your eyes closing at the feeling. “How are you feeling? Do you feel alright? Is there any pain? Because I can go get a nurse for some pain medicine. Or are you hungry? Because you didn’t eat at all at lunch and I doubt you ate this morning since you left class to throw up or maybe you did since-“

“Stiles shhh its okay, I feel okay I promise,” you said, voice a little hoarse. Stiles sighed happily before sitting back down, both of his hands coming up to play with your fingers. You wanted to relish in the moment, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling that took place in your mind. He doesn’t really care, once you’re better he’ll go back to ignoring you.

“Stiles-“

“I like you,” he blurted out, his face beet red. “And I’m sorry. Really fucking sorry okay? I’ve had this giant crush on you for the longest time, and I had no idea how to address because you’re just absolutely everything to me. I thought that if I put some distance between us that it would be easier, but it wasn’t. I could tell that you were upset, only this time it was my fault. Look, if you don’t feel the same way, or even if you hate me after what I did, I get it I fucking deserve it, it’s fine. But after today, seeing you collapse like that, I don’t think I can’t not have you in my life. I really, really like you y/n, and if you can forgive me one day, can we at least stay friends?” his eyes were pleading with you, tears lining his eyes.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “So…you don’t want to be with me like that…” you whispered.

“No-I mean yes, of course I would love more than anything to be more than friends, but you-“

“Stiles,” you said with a small smile. “I feel the same way. I have for awhile now…”

His eyes lit up, the tears falling now. “Really?” he asked softly.

“Really.”

“But,” he looked away from you, swallowing thickly. “I-I’m not like, super strong or a good lacrosse player. I’m not a werewolf. I’m only human, I’m just…me.”

“I don’t want any of those things, I want you. I want the boy who can always figure out the cases, the boy who would come over and take care of me whenever I’m upset, who came over every Friday to watch movies with me, and the boy who never ever fails to make me laugh, even when it’s the last thing I want to do.”

You continued to run your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. His smile grew with your words, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief moment.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Stiles stood once again, leaning over you while trying not to crush or hurt you in any way. He cupped your face with one hand before gently placing his lips on yours. The kiss was soft, your lips moving slowly against his. It didn’t become any more heated then simply kissing, but your heart still exploded. You two kissed until your lungs burned, Stiles pulling away for just a moment to take a quick breath before diving back in, tilting his head a little, the kiss picking up its pace slightly.

After a few more moments, Stiles pulled back for good, smiling down at you while he pulled his chair even closer you as he sat down, and you were positive that your grin was just a big as his. You leaned over and wiped the remaining tears off of his face, him leaning into your touch.

“Can I take you on date?” he asked.

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Just a date?” you joked.

“Well, I feel like I should take you out on a proper date before I ask you to be my girlfriend,” he laughed, and you smiled at him.

“Okay, then in that case, I’d love to go on a date you,” you said, affection laced in your tone.

He smiled dopily at you, resting his hand back on the bed next you, your arm coming around him comfortably.

“Get some rest, kid. I’ll be right here, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you, always,”

You sighed, closing your eyes, and for the first time in a few weeks, you were able to sleep peacefully with Stiles by your side.

#stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x reader #stiles #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #thomas #the maze runner #american assaisin #sam taylor #sam taylor x reader #thomas x reader #dave hodgman

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chibinekochan · 3 years ago

Text

How to become a Demon Ruler 206

Part: 00 I 01 I 02 I 03 I 04 I 05 I

Gender Neutral Reader insert

taglist: @ayesha95 ; @nomnomcupcakesworld ; @fex-phoenix ; @depressed-bixch ; @kitsune-oji ; @witch-o-memes ; @gallantys ,@tanspostsblog ; @undertaker-02 ,

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

The class ends uneventfully and it's now time for lunch. I study my plan and see I have magical training next after this.

I sigh deeply. How am I supposed to survive a class like this?

"Not having anything they like on the menu?" Beel sounds concerned.

"No, I was just thinking about my next class. It's magical training." I frown.

"Ah I see, I have that class too. It's not always easy to keep control." Beel wants to make me feel better, it seems.

I appreciate his help. "It's just that I don't think that I'm capable of doing any magic at all."

"No way. Everyone has a bit of magic inside of them. You just need to train to get access to the power within." Levi shakes his head.

"This isn't a shonen anime Levi." Mammon already has a tray of food with him. Making Beel drool.

"He isn't wrong though. It's just a matter of training." Satan also chimes in from the side. Then he leans closer towards me. "Besides we all know about that pact of yours so even if you hadn't any magic now you do."

I'm not surprised they all know. It's probably to keep me safe from others.

"I don't know how to access that either," I whisper back at Satan.

"We will figure it out. I mean it's nothing to frown about and ruin your pretty face." Asmo just arrived and seems to indicate they will be supporting me.

"That's very nice of you. I just can't fail a class you know." I sigh.

"Too much pressure in my opinion. We also need to hurry before Beel eats everything." Belphie points at the huge pile on Beel’s tray.

"You are right, nobody can think with an empty stomach." Satan agrees and so you are all lining up to get food.

I have no idea what to choose from.

"You should try the buffo steak." Levi points to it.

"No, try the seven sin salad. It's very healthy and filling." Asmo objects.

"I'm just going for the soup today. I'm too tired for anything else." Belphie yawns.

"Just take the golden shrimps. I mean, look how much they sparkle." Mammon chimes in.

I have no idea why he is even here since he has food already.

"Just take a bit of everything," Beel says with a full mouth.

I shake my head. "I see everything is tasty. I will go for this dish, please." I order with a smile the item that looks the best.

"Ohhh, great choice. It even comes with a dessert." Beel is still chewing.

Everyone else just moves on to their own choices.

Once I'm done I'm looking for an open table. When my eyes meet Mammon's, he waves me over. "Hey, come sit here."

I awkwardly make my way through the tables.

"They aren't a dog you know." Levi giggles.

"I hope I'm not a burden on you." I sit down beside Mammon. "I won't say anything to Diavolo if you aren't including me." I don't want to be a bother to them.

"Nonsense." Belphie shakes his head.

"Yeah, like Lucifer can order us to do exactly what he wants." Satan sneers.

"I would never eat with anyone who I'm not interested in." Asmo winks at me when he sits down next to me.

"You better be grateful to the great Mammon." Mammon boasts.

I can hardly stop myself from laughing.

"Don't say that Mammon. We just hope to become friends with you." Beel smiles in between bites.

I smile at them.

"Now that is more like it." Asmo grins and we all eat together.

I feel very welcome by them, it's nice, even when they are all a bit strange.

After being full I'm on my way to my next class.

I see a group of students around a white-haired guy. He somehow catches my eye, maybe it's because he somehow stands out between the demons.

He meets my eye and gives me a short smile.

"Hey Solomon, I thought you were going to miss the first day." Satan knows the guy.

"I made it somehow. You must be the other human exchange student." Solomon seems friendly but I somehow feel on guard around him.

"Nice to meet you. If you don't mind me asking how do you know Satan?" It seems a bit strange to me.

"That's because I have a pact with him," Solomon answers very nonchalantly.

My eyes go wide. "Wow, you have a pact with a pretty powerful demon." I'm quite curious to know how this even happened.

Solomon chuckles. "To be exact, I have pacts with 72 demons."

"72? That's a huge number. Are you collecting pacts or something?" It seems like a ridiculous amount.

Satan laughs at this. "You could say that. He got pacts with Levi and Asmo too."

"What can I say? I might just like making pacts." Solomon shrugs like it's no big deal. Then he looks at me again, like he is now truly seeing me for the first time. "You seem to be a pretty unique one yourself. I mean it's not been that long and you have a pact of your own. I might have some competition at this point." He seems to be able to sense my pact.

I wonder if he knows who I made my pact with? I almost shiver from that thought.

"What can I say, I adapt fast." I try to be nonchalant about it but I'm unsure if it works on him.

"Oh, I don't know much about how humans access their magic, you might be able to help them." Satan has thought about this, it seems. Which is honestly pretty nice of him.

Solomon thinks for a moment. "It's been a while since I learned how to use magic but it's different for everyone. It's like pulling energy from the elements around you. Since you have a pact you can also draw power from that. You can do that by recalling how you felt when that magic force entered your body. I can give you some pointers later. I'm staying at Purgatory hall by the way." He seems to want to help me out.

"I will try that. It's just kinda hard. I tried to feel my power but got nothing." I sigh.

"That's normal with beginners. You are probably best off trying to feel magic power from another strong force. Like a fire or a waterfall. Maybe even a strong demon." Solomon smiles calmly.

"You might want to exchange numbers to make it easier for everyone." Satan's suggestion is really good.

"That's a great idea." I exchange information with Solomon. I have questions for him, even when he seems a bit shady.

"You are awfully eager to help the new student Satan. Are you into them?" Solomon grins suggestively at Satan.

"Do I look like Asmo to you? They gave me a very nice present. I'm simply returning the favor." Satan denies it, but not very strongly.

"A present? That's interesting." Solomon looks at me with glee. "That's certainly one way to gain favors for pacts."

The class bell saves me from the rest of this conversation.

The magic class is very hard for me. I can't do a single thing. Even when it's very easy.

Solomon aces every task and Satan just seems to be there to assist the teacher.

I wonder why Solomon is even here, to be honest. He is clearly not very frustrated. I want to manage just one spell. Then I recall Solomon's advice.

The memory of my pact with Diavolo is still fresh. I recall the warmth that his energy left within me. The sensation on my back. I start to feel the warmth from my back. It seems to work.

I calm my excitement and focus on that feeling. It seems to be spreading. I feel warmer, I try to imagine the energy going into my arms and hands. It's like a river in front of my inner eye. Warm and red flowing through me.

I close my eyes, getting lost in the feeling. It's flooding me slowly.

Then someone yells out in fear. My concentration breaks and I open my eyes.

In horror, I see flames in front of me. I set a table on fire.

Behind me, I hear Solomon laughing.

"Omg! I didn't mean for this to happen!" I panic and frantically look for a fire extinguisher.

"It's alright, I can handle this." The teacher steps in and the fire dies down. "Are you alright?" He seems worried.

"Y-Yeah." Other than shaking from the shock, I'm fine.

"I think they should be set free from the rest of the class. I will bring them outside for some fresh air." Satan sees me shaking.

The teacher nods.

We go to a bench outside and we sit down.

"That was quite something. Usually, it takes until lesson six to set something on fire." Satan chuckles lightly.

"Not helpful." I sigh and look at my own hands. I never thought I could summon such powers. It's kind of scary.

"You don't need to beat yourself up. Diavolo is extremely powerful so it's no wonder that by tapping into his powers you cause such destruction. To be honest it could have been way worse. It's awesome that you could do it on the first try so all you need is some practice." Satan tries to cheer me up and I'm grateful for that.

"I hope you are right. It was so scary. I didn't even realize what I did." I wonder if I will be able to control it next time.

"Maybe just imagine water next time? Oh, wait then you're probably gonna flood us all like Levi." Satan chuckles.

"Levi floods stuff?" This sorta surprises me.

"Yeah, he always summons Lothan when he is very upset and then the whole building gets wet." Satan sighs.

I have a hard time imagining it. "Seems pretty reckless."

Satan shrugs. "Living with demons is just like this. When I get very angry I destroy stuff all the time too. It's hard to control my anger in my demon form. We all might seem cool and powerful but our sins are also a weakness." Satan smiles ruefully.

I nod. "I see, thank you for sharing that with me." Somehow it helps to know that they also screw up.

"Just be prepared for the lecture from Lucifer if you get into trouble. Well, maybe in your case it will be Diavolo scolding you. No, wait, that's too hard to imagine. Who is doing the punishment in your home?" Satan seems genuinely curious.

"I haven't gotten in trouble yet, but I somehow feel it's Barbatos." He is at least punishing Diavolo, it seems.

"I can see that. I wonder what he will do in that case." Satan seems to imagine a few things.

"Who knows, but I certainly don't want to find out." I giggle slightly.

Satan nods and we sit for a while on the bench.

It's nice of him to keep me company.

School is probably pretty good after all.

I feel like I made a few friends and I guess it can only get better from here on out.

#obey me #omswd #demon ruler 201 #how to become a demon ruler #obey me fanfic #om!

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panharmonium · 4 years ago

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you know what?

no. absolutely not.

i already did part 1 of this post here. i’m back again with part 2, because unfortunately the awfulness factor doesn’t stop with arthur, and as much as i adore hunith generally, this entire sequence is a MESS.

and yes, i am aware that pretty much nobody else thinks so. every time i see this scene referenced in fandom, it is always framed as a fun, cutesy, sing-songy moment of “oooo, hunith ships merthur!” literally every time.

which, you know, like i always say about everything fandom-related - that’s fine. everybody is going to enjoy things differently; you do you, and keep on having fun! but here on my own blog, in my own space, i am gonna do me, and in this case ‘me’ involves yelling about how much i can’t stand that particular read, and how angry the end of 1.10 makes me.

disclaimer, to help folks curate their own fandom experiences: i am going to be Very Cranky for the rest of this post. if you love this particular scene in the way i just mentioned, you will probably want to scroll on by, because this piece of meta most likely won’t be your jam. as always, these are my personal thoughts and nobody is obligated to share them, so please do not hesitate to simply skip this post if we are on different wavelengths - instead, keep enjoying fandom in whatever way is most fun for you!

fair warning now given, off i go on a long, frustrated tirade.

i already wrote about the first half of this scene, where arthur decides that the appropriate thing to do at this particular moment is to give merlin a scolding about the evils of sorcery, despite the fact that the only reason arthur is even alive to deliver this lecture in the first place is because merlin’s ‘sorcerer’ best friend just DIED saving arthur’s life. but sure, you know what, let’s use said best friend’s funeral to chastise merlin about how “dangerous” sorcerers are. let’s just make that completely dickheaded decision.

and, moving on to the second half of this scene - here’s the thing. hunith overhears this entire conversation. she overhears arthur telling merlin off about sorcery, in front of the burning corpse of merlin’s best friend, who is, as far as arthur knows, the ‘sorcerer’ who died saving arthur’s life.

and yet, for some inexplicable reason, hunith still cannot get off the arthur pendragon train for two damn seconds.

she has known arthur for less than a week. by contrast, she has known will for his entire life. but the instant arthur walks away, hunith sidles up next to merlin and says, “you’d better be going” - like. okay, my god, can you try to hustle him away from his best friend’s in-progress funeral any faster????? how about we maybe give him a second? the pyre hasn’t even burnt down yet, and merlin hasn’t had a single second to himself since this sequence started. he’s had to stand there and listen to arthur insult the dude who everyone is supposed to be memorializing, and then hunith - who overheard the entire thing - zips right over and tries to chivvy merlin on his way. you’d better be going.

HELLO?! the pyre is still roaring. how about, instead of hassling merlin and hustling him offstage, everybody just sits down and waits for a minute. how about they all just leave merlin alone for three everloving seconds.

honestly, just - every time i think about this scene i get angrier.

i love hunith, and i know she’s well-intentioned. but everything she gives merlin in this scene is the exact opposite of what he needs. he doesn’t need to be hurried off the village green like there’s some reason he can’t stay there for the entirety of his friend’s funeral. he doesn’t need to be pushed into going back to camelot when he is clearly struggling with the idea of leaving ealdor again. and he absolutely does not need to be told how much someone else “needs” him right now, when he himself is the one who is having a fucking crisis and who needs someone to take care of him.

i cannot emphasize that last point enough. it is just - beyond upsetting to me that hunith literally watches arthur shitting on merlin’s dead best friend (and, by proxy, merlin himself, since merlin is the actual sorcerer) and she still somehow thinks the right thing to do is walk over and start telling merlin how great arthur is and how arthur “needs” him and how merlin “belongs at arthur’s side.”

i can’t stand that. it makes me so angry. it’s not right. it’s not fair. it’s damaging. it’s the same shitty messaging that destroys merlin’s life in later seasons, this idea that he exists for someone else’s sake, the complete disregard for what he himself might want at any given moment, for what he himself might need, for the reservations he might have about this plan that other people have formulated for his life.

he is UNCOMFORTABLE when she says these things to him! he doesn’t look at her; he shifts his gaze to arthur and the camelot squad with this grim, unconvinced expression on his face, and then he averts his eyes from her.

everything hunith tells merlin in this scene is the exact opposite of what he needs to hear. he does not need someone to tell him how badly his services are “needed” by a man who hates the person merlin truly is, not when the only friend who ever accepted merlin’s true self has just been killed. he does not need to be told that arthur, who is alive solely because will is dead and who only seconds ago expressed exactly zero gratitude for that sacrifice, is the person to whom merlin owes his undying loyalty. he does not need to be shuffled off to camelot as quickly as possible, as if it would be better for him to just rush forward and forget what happened here, as if what happened here didn’t matter.

because what happened here did matter, whether hunith and arthur find it convenient to acknowledge or not. i have to lay this out again, because what happened to merlin in ealdor is so much more important than anybody ever seems to realize - and i do understand that, i really do (because yes, it was just one episode for us) - but we have to look at it from merlin’s perspective, not the audience’s.

will wasn’t ‘one episode’ for merlin.

i can’t say this enough times. i cannot say this loudly enough.

merlin, at the beginning of this show, has only ever had ONE FRIEND.

most of us can’t even imagine something like that.

but try. TRY.

merlin has only ever had one friend. he’s only ever had one friend to love him. he only had one friend for the first two decades of his life. he’s only been in camelot for a couple of months; he’s only known these camelot people for a couple of months, and they don’t know his real self anyhow. and now his ONLY FRIEND, the person he’s known all his life, the only friend he ever had who knew him for who he truly was, was just violently cut down before his very eyes, whilst saving a guy who can legally have merlin murdered for just existing. and even though merlin and will spend the entirety of 1.10 having a painful, complicated argument, will still uses his last moments on earth to tell the biggest fucking whopper of his life, in order to shield merlin from harm, taking all of the danger and infamy and condemnation upon himself. he dies with a lie on his lips. he dies with merlin’s hand in his hair.

and all the while, merlin knows that this would not have happened if he had just been willing to use his magic in the first place, instead of letting his fear of discovery prompt him into allowing his neighbors to offer themselves up for the slaughter in his place.

the avalanching double-whammy of grief and guilt that merlin is suddenly slammed with at the end of this episode is almost incomprehensible in scale.

i’ve talked about this before, but again, i think it’s something we don’t generally remember: losing will is the first time merlin has ever experienced personal bereavement. and he doesn’t get to start out with a warm-up; he goes straight to the big leagues. this is not some trifling thing. this is a total implosion of merlin’s world as he knows it.

when we think about the mark this episode leaves on merlin’s life, i don’t think most of us consider the magnitude of this event deeply enough. losing will in this way is not some one-off thing that merlin just...gets over. this is the most earth-shattering thing that has ever happened to him, at this point in time. it is still one of the worst things that has ever happened to him, period, even years later. the guilt never goes away.

and the thing that’s unique about this particular trauma is that merlin has to manage it alone. there are other tragedies in his life where we witness him receiving support/comfort from others - freya, lancelot, balinor (though of course there are aspects to these miseries that merlin has to keep secret from other people, as well) - but with will, merlin has to do everything on his own. he can’t get one single moment of peace at will’s funeral. his own mother, the only person who knows what really happened, can’t help him without making everything about arthur. and merlin can’t tell anyone else what happened, not the truth of it, because doing so would squander the gift he’s been given - will’s lie is still protecting him, years later, from arthur and morgana both.

merlin, at the end of 1.10, is forced to navigate this grief completely alone, in the silent secrecy of his own heart. arthur is actively making it worse. hunith is out here singing arthur’s praises. and will is just like - he’s suddenly not part of the conversation anymore. he doesn’t even register on anyone’s radar.

it truly is...incredible, for me, to watch hunith overhear arthur being legitimately terrible to both merlin and the guy who just died saving merlin AND arthur’s lives, and then to see her come over and start talking about how merlin belongs at arthur’s side, how much merlin needs to be there for him, how they’re two sides of the same coin. meanwhile, the guy who literally just lied his life away to protect merlin’s secret and who NEVER made merlin feel like he had to hide who he was and who never had any problem with magic in the first place and never made merlin feel unsafe and never treated merlin like he was less of a human being just for existing -

- he’s just burning to ash there, and hunith doesn’t even acknowledge that, despite the fact that merlin is so visibly, intently, single-mindedly focused on that funeral pyre, and so clearly in distress and in pain and NEEDING somebody. all she can talk about is merlin’s responsibility to arthur.

the dissonance here is baffling. hunith has known will forever. she met arthur less than a week ago. she barely knows him, and what she does know is that he thinks magic-users are dangerous/evil. she saw him being a dick to her kid. she knows her son is having the worst day of his life. and she still doesn’t offer a single comforting word in reference to the person who just died protecting merlin’s secret, instead choosing to wax poetic about a man whose bigotry is what merlin needed protecting from in the first place.

that...is a hot mess. the merlin-hunith-will dynamic is one of the few things in this show that reflects less-than-stellarly on hunith’s character, however much i love her. and even though it all stems from an overwhelming desire to keep her son safe, it doesn’t make her choices any less damaging. she sends merlin away specifically because she finds out that will knows about his secret. she spends 1.10 analyzing and encouraging and dissecting merlin’s relationship with arthur, when merlin’s relationship with will is the one that desperately needs attention. she’s proven wrong about will’s trustworthiness in the most stunning, powerful way possible, and then she never even acknowledges him, instead choosing to laud the dude who literally forces merlin to live in fear of execution.

she’s merlin’s mother. she’s the only person in his life who knows anything about what will actually meant to him. she is his only possible resource as he tries to weather a kind of devastation that defies description.

and she, like arthur, just barrels right on ahead and makes everything about someone else.

the cinematography choices in this scene matter. whenever arthur or hunith tries to talk to merlin, the camera is placed on the opposite side of the fire from them, meaning the flames are always in the foreground of the frame. they are something we are required to see and look past before we can get to anything else in the scene. and in terms of directorial/acting decisions - merlin doesn’t take his eyes off the pyre until the end of his conversation with hunith. ��not once while talking to arthur does he look away from it.

the funeral pyre is always in the foreground of the shot, because it’s in the forefront of merlin’s mind. that is where his focus is right now. that is what is taking up all of his attention. that is what is edging into the frame, eating up our entire field of view. that is what he needs help with.

but he doesn’t get any such support. the entire sequence ends up revolving around arthur. will’s entire funeral is about arthur fucking pendragon. arthur inserts himself so he can talk to merlin about how evil magic is, and then hunith inserts herself so she can talk to merlin about how great arthur is. nobody ever stops to think that maybe merlin doesn’t want to talk to anybody right this second. merlin’s entire ‘farewell’ to the only true friend he ever had in his life is completely swallowed up by the prince of camelot, and if that isn’t a metaphor for the rest of merlin’s life, then i don’t know what is.

i know nobody needs to hear this, because very few people are invested in this kid at the same level of embarrassing detail as me, but here it is, anyway.

yes, will is prickly. he’s hard to get on with. he’s angry. he’s bitter and snappy and uncharitable, sometimes.

but you know what? he has every reason to be like that.

this kid has nobody. his own best friend’s mother - who has known him all his life - doesn’t trust him and doesn’t respect him. she is too afraid for her own son’s safety to give will any credit. she sends merlin away to camelot, the most violently anti-magic place in the world, because apparently, will knowing about merlin’s secret would be even more dangerous than uther pendragon’s genocidal reign.

think about how that would feel. to hear something like that about yourself. to be somebody who is already so goddamn alone in the world, and to have your only friend vanish without so much as a ‘see you later,’ and then to be made to feel, however indirectly, like this is somehow your fault, like you’re the liability, like you’re the untrustworthy element here. as if you, somehow, are more dangerous than a king who literally pays to have sorcerers trafficked to him in cages.

will has every right to be upset, all the time. he has every reason to be angry, and bitter, and hurt, all the time. to be thought so poorly of - to be held in such low esteem - when he hasn’t done anything wrong, when he hasn’t ever done anything to earn that kind of mistrust - and to have that same misplaced suspicion used to justify separating him from the only person in the world who gives a damn about him - if it were me, i would be constantly on the verge of screaming, all the time.

will has always been on merlin’s side, and he has never done anything to endanger him, and in the end he gives up everything to make sure merlin can stay safe and hidden and unhunted. he shouldn’t have needed to prove his goodness, his constancy, his worth; not when he’s already kept merlin’s secret for who knows how many years, but even after he does do so, it doesn’t even matter. arthur acknowledges him only to disparage sorcery. hunith passes him over completely in favor of praising arthur, with no acknowledgment of the misjudgment she made.

i have said before that merlin tends to befriend people who have nobody, people who’ve been left behind by the rest of the world, people who’ve been made to feel that they aren’t worthy of love. and will, merlin’s oldest friend, was the first of those many characters, and it is so heartbreaking to me that in this instance, the same kind of disinterested and careless attitude towards his worth that dogged him all his life is perpetuated and affirmed after his death. ‘people are used to ignoring him,’ merlin tells arthur, and merlin is right - even when will is dead and burning, arthur only sees sorcery. hunith, who we would expect to be more sympathetic, only sees arthur.

merlin is the only one who knows better. merlin has always known better, and he loves will so much, but he is the only one, apparently, and honestly, after will dies? nobody else even tries to understand.

to sum up:

hunith and arthur, for all that i love them, are both way out of line at the end of this episode.

the legacy of this experience, for merlin, is that he spends the rest of his life processing this particular trauma alone. and that is why i always, always have to keep will and ealdor in the back of my mind when i write for merlin in any capacity - because this event isn’t some simple stumbling block for him; it changes him forever. it teaches him what he can and can’t expect from the people around him, and it solidifies how irrelevant his own needs are when viewed in comparison with arthur’s, even to people who barely even KNOW arthur; people who are supposed to put merlin first over everything. it teaches merlin to bury his sorrow, and to wrestle with personal suffering in secret, because if things aren’t ultimately about arthur, then they aren’t important enough to be granted any significant amount of time for merlin to deal with. merlin’s own grief, even at his best friend’s funeral, takes too long to resolve. arthur walks away from the pyre, and it’s time for merlin to leave, too. you’d better be going.

bottom line: i don’t care if other people think this whole ‘ooo, everybody wants merlin to be with arthur’ thing is wonderful or beautiful or dreamily romantic. it isn’t. it’s ugly, and it’s cruel, and it stripped merlin of his present identity and his future potential, one stolen moment at a time.

#and that's what i have to say about that #so.#in case you all weren't already aware #will is a goddamn hero #and merlin misses him every day #the once and future slowburn #meta #no kings no masters

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creacherkeeper · 4 years ago

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AAAAA SAME ANON AND I LOVE UR THOUGHTS ON THIS AU SO MUCH!!!! hskdhdkdbd PLEASE ignore this if u don’t want to talk about this au of course, but honestly i only have more !!!!! about it with every piece of info. like the line about fabian and riz’s jaeger being “unstoppable. almost.” and about how adaine joins the fray specifically bc they’re down and adaine and aelwyn are the only ppl who can fill in their place right now. also how kristen is drift compatible with everyone im!!

NO NO NO IM SO HAPPY TO TALK ABOUT IT!!!! like pacific rim really blessed us by not only being an AMAZING movie but also the best au fodder of all time??? god pacific rim au my beloved <3

some additional stuff because i cant stop:

i think ayda and adaine are totally drift compatible, but never tested together, as ayda only joined the program to pilot with fig

penelope, dayne, and ragh actually triple piloted until fig signed up. everyone thought it was better to separate penelope and dayne because they were ... not always team players when together. but after it came out everything that had been happening between dayne and ragh, that decision was heavily regretted. ragh got ... a lot of counseling after dayne was kicked out. when he was moved to combat trainer, he got a lot happier and became good friends with tracker, who'd been on base long enough to see everything go down

ayda and aelwyn actually knew each other in undergrad. aelwyn became friends with her mostly for strategic purposes, because she was the daughter of the head of the jaeger program and aelwyn wanted to build jaegers. ayda became friends with her because they were both the youngest in the STEM program and she was desperate for someone she could relate to, at least a little. they got along okay but didn't really keep in touch after graduation. they didn't start getting closer until aelwyn became a pilot, because then they COULD actually relate to each other, as scientists-turned-fighters

ayda still found out she was autistic through jawbone, once she finished school and came to base to study kaiju. she opened up to him about how hard it was to relate to her peers, and he was like kiddo youre probably autistic?? like over half of the scientists here are?? and she was like. OH. after everythings over and fig goes back to being a musician, she donates a lot of her touring profits to autistic-led advocacy groups because like. she's literally felt what it's like to live with an autistic brain, and it makes her the biggest ally of all time (and ayda being a very prominent autistic scientist AND pilot actually does like. SO MUCH for autism acceptance. she frequently gives lectures on fig's touring routes)

after they close the breach, fabian gets into a huge blowout fight with bill. cause bill makes his money by selling kaiju parts, so without the kaiju, he doesn't have a job. and by that point fabian has had enough distance and experience that he's like. i would have died for you but i fucking made a name for myself that was better than anything you've ever tried to do, now i get to live for me. and even though he wasn't expecting it, bill actually completely accepts and supports that

yeah so pok actually died cause he got eaten by a kaiju after drifting with one using the pons system he invented. its extremely difficult to hear but riz is also like. that is the most badass thing ive ever fucking heard oh my god (they name the neuroscience program at riz's college after pok. sklonda starts law school there the year after they close the breach)

kristen literally proposes to tracker the day after they close it, barely conscious, with a giant hole in her chest, from her hospital bed. everyone is like. my dude. tracker thinks its extremely romantic

(they end up adopting a bunch of kids who were orphaned because of kaiju attacks)

gorgug goes to college and becomes a high school social studies teacher. zelda runs a local gym. they have an extremely quiet life and are happy to, most of the time, not be noticed or bothered. every once in a while an extremely nerdy kid will recognize gorgug's PARENTS as jaeger mechanics and completely ignore gorgug and zelda thinks its hilarious

after they close the breach, the abernant parents reach out to BOTH aelwyn and adaine to ask them to come back home to visit and be celebrated. and theyre like. mmmm fuck that actually?? but adaine does have a BIT of an existential crisis cause shes like OKAY WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO WITH MY LIFE NOW?? they actually end up getting a little apartment together somewhere and aelwyn pays the bills as an engineer making advanced prosthetics. she encourages adaine to just try out as much as possible, and she takes a ton of classes at the community college, the community center, and at various local businesses. but its actually jawbone who inspires her to go back for another degree and become a psych researcher. she makes waves in the trauma and ptsd field

theyre all pretty happy that kalvaxis, category iv, and nightmare, category v, got blown to hell at the bottom of the ocean

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #the bad kids #OKAY I REALLY HAVE TO STOPPPP #YALL STOP ENCOURAGING ME IM TOO INVESTED IN THIS AU #(dont stop i love it)#pacific rim au

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kaitycole · 4 years ago

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you broke me first (part 2)

Summary: You and Oikawa dated all three years of high school, that is until he broke up with you out of nowhere. Then three years later, you open the door of Iwaizumi’s apartment to find Oikawa there.

Word Count: 2825

Rating: Angst. Pinning. Mentions of anxiety. Talks of a break-up

Pairing: OIkawa x Female Reader (past tense), Iwaizumi x Female Reader

A/N: Fingers crossed I’m capturing these guys right lol I think maybe it’ll have one more part, I'm not sure. Let me know your thoughts though!

Also, I’m thinking of having two different ending, let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in!

Song Choice: you broke me first by Tate McRae

Tag List: @yatoatyourservice

When Iwa finally gets back to his apartment, Oikawa is sprawled out on the floor on his phone. Shaking his head, he simply walks passed him, grabbing two beers from the fridge. He just knows he’s gonna need some.

“Oi. Here.”

Oikawa takes the beer, clinking it against Iwa’s before taking a sip. While the two of you were gone, Oikawa practically dissected all the posts on both your social media profiles. He came up empty, either you weren’t dating or weren’t making it public. It’s driving him crazy to not know, while he wasn’t expecting you to be here, he’d be lying if he said seeing you didn’t stir something up inside him. Didn’t make him rethink the last three years, comparing them to the three you spend together.

“How long as you in town?”

“A week.” He makes eye contact with Iwa, “But I’ll find somewhere else tomorrow.” Iwa shakes his head in protest, “Just stay in the spare room.” “Is Y/N okay with that?” Oikawa raises an eyebrow, trying to see how he react; but he’s stoic as usual.

He nods, “As long as you don’t act like shittykawa, I’m sure things will be fine.”

A few beers later and Iwa’s phone goes off, he excuses himself to take it. Oikawa leans back on the couch, trying to not think about you but failing.

------

It was just like every other day, an early chilly morning before school. You and Oikawa were sitting on a bench close to the school, he had just finished up a brief practice. He enjoyed this time with you, before the campus filled with tons of students especially his “fan club”.

“Oh, I brought you something!”

“Oh really? What is it, princess?” You pulled out a small bag and handed it to him: milk bread.

“Y/N, you’re the best. I love you.”

Your face turned bright pink.

“Oh, I…uhm…well, no, I love you.” He shrugs, “Wasn’t how I was planning on telling you.”

It made your heart skip, he had been planning on telling you that he loves you. And instead of some grand gesture or in some super overthought way, your dork of a boyfriend told you after getting milk break.

“You are such a dork.” You pulled him close and kissed him, “I love you too.”

There had been great days in Oikawa’s life; most of them included volleyball, but this day topped all of them. He draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.

“Say it again?”

Your face turned even redder, it extended to the tops of your ears, “I love you, Toru.”

Oikawa could’ve died right there and he’d have been a happy man. You and volleyball are all he needed in life and luckily, he wouldn’t have to choose one over the other, right?

Two years and three months later, he had to choose one and it wasn’t you.

------

Iwa comes back into the living room, “That was Y/N. She’s back at her dorm.”

“When did she start calling you Hajime?” His voice is full of regret and Iwa instantly picks up on it; his heart sinking.

“I’m not really sure, sometime during our first year here I think.”

“You two are together, aren’t you?” Oikawa asks, not really wanting to hear the answer. His eyes are closed and he feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Yeah. We are.” Iwa rubs the back of his neck, he never intended to keep this from his best friend.

“How long?”

“Three months.” There were several days within those months that Iwa had dialed Oikawa’s number just to hang up or not bring it up. He wanted to tell him, there was nothing keeping him from it other than himself; there was just some mental block.

“Guess you picked up all the piece, eh?” Oikawa stands up, chugging the beer on the table before grabbing his bag. He tries to think of where he can go because he can’t stay here. He doesn’t want to hear about how Iwa was there to catch you when he had left.

“It wasn’t like that. We…she didn’t even talk to me that summer or the first few months of school.” Iwa hates thinking about how you were back then, remembering just how broken you were when Oikawa left.

“Then enlighten me.”

“You broke her, shattered her, destroyed her.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “You were it for her and when you just left she fell apart. I honestly thought she didn’t come to university until we had a class together the second part of our first year.”

When Oikawa first left, Iwa assumed you’d need a few days to adjust, but it was after a few weeks that he tried reaching out. You ignored him. He eventually swung by your job at a local convenient store, only to find out that you had quit. When he went to see you at home, your mom had been the one to tell him of the break-up and that you had gone to stay with your aunt in Tokyo for the summer.

Iwa sits down, elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. Oikawa drops his bag, he didn’t realize how hard the break-up had hit you. With him going abroad, he thought it’d be easier for you. Though it hadn’t been easier for him either.

“I felt horrible, she’d become my best friend through high school and there she was and I didn’t know the slightest thing about her anymore. So, I sat next to her, made study plans with her, invited her to meals; anything that I knew she’d agree to and not see as unnecessary like parties.” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

Iwa tells Oikawa about how you’d practically jump each time your phone went off, praying that it was Oikawa. How you flinched every time someone brought up volleyball or when people would eagerly ask you if you knew Oikawa when they learned where you went to high school. Or that you missed two days of classes when she learned he had injured his bad knee again and that it was almost a year later when you actually gave Iwa a sincere smile and laugh.

Iwa doesn’t look up Oikawa as he recounts the last few years; part of him want his best friend to feel guilty and miserable, but the other part of him feels guilty for wanting that. He recalls the time when you called him first to make plans that didn’t include the library, studying or a lecture.

He laughs, “You know she came in here about a year and a half ago now, randomly telling me she hated all my furniture and over the next four months, she had completely redecorated the apartment.” Oikawa smirks, that sounded just like you.

Oikawa continues listening to Iwa. Learning that it may have taken you a bit longer than expected, but you learned to be happy again. That a day came where you could hear his name again without cringing and how one random night you brought up a memory of the three of you out of the blue. Oikawa isn’t sure if the ache in his chest is still from hearing about how you were or from the proud smile Iwa sports talking about you.

He stands up, once again picking up his bag before nodding his head towards the hallway. “I’m beat.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Iwa stands up, motioning his friend towards the guest room.

In three separate beds lay three individuals, minds all filled with a mix of worries, regrets, and memories. In the room at the end of the hall is Iwa, trying to convince himself that laying in the middle of the bed will prevent him from missing you. It’s been months since he’s slept alone; even before an official relationship, you slept in his apartment. It started by innocently crashing on the couch after a long day to Iwa saying you could keep a few things in the spare room until the start of your third year of university, about six months ago, when you found yourself in Iwa’s bed, cuddled to his side.

It’s not until his head hits the pillow that he finally realizes why he couldn’t tell Oikawa about the two of you; he never wanted Oikawa to think he liked you during high school. He didn’t want his best friend to try to tear apart every memory, wondering if Iwa had ever tried to sabotage the two of you. He didn’t want him feeling that all his advice through your relationship was in hopes to break you two up. Because that wasn’t the case, although he couldn’t pin point when he had fallen for you, he knew without a doubt that he didn’t look or think about you in that way during your time with Oikawa. All Iwa wanted in the world was for you and Oikawa to be happy.

Just down the hall, Oikawa finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed thinking about what Iwa has just told him. He didn’t want to imagine you the broke mess he learned you had been, it’s what got him through the last three years. It was the immature reason why when he got on the plane, he didn’t glance back. He falls back on the bed, his face in his hands as he lets out a groan. This isn’t what he expected when he came to visit, he thought he and Iwa would hang out, talk about old times, and just have a good time; seeing his ex-girlfriend aka the only girl he’s ever loved was not part of his plans.

He doesn’t like that Iwa was the one who helped you get through the break-up. He doesn’t like that you were completely destroyed. He doesn’t like that three years ago he took the coward’s way out and broke up with you. Seeing you just brought up all the feelings he’d been burying for these last few years, reminding him of all the reasons why the two of you fit together so well and why he fell in love with you. And he definitely doesn’t like feeling like he’s too late because all he wants is to beg for you back. He groans again, wanting for just a moment that he could turn off his thoughts.

Across the city you’re in your college dorm room, laying on the uncomfortable twin mattress that creaks every time you roll over to adjust. Even when you move as slowly as possible, it squeaks and you feel awful for your roommate; even though she’s assured you that she can’t hear a thing. Tonight isn’t going how you originally planned, you woke up this morning thinking that you’d spend the night at Iwa’s, wake up early to him cooking breakfast and then rush to campus to work on your project. But with the slight turn of events, you probably won’t eat until lunch and be early to your group project.

There’s a pit in your stomach, thinking back to the moment you opened the door to see your ex-boyfriend standing there; looking way too good for someone that you wanted to hate. You smack your hands to your face letting out a low groan as your mind wanders. You have worked so hard to get over Oikawa; to be able to breathe and live again after he just left you. His sun-tanned skin, soft brown eyes, all have your stomach in knots and you don’t realize just how long you’ve been holding your breath until your phone vibrates.

Oikawa: You awake? (2:34 am)

Oikawa: It’s Oikawa Toru (2:34 am)

Oikawa: I’m so sorry if you’re sleeping (2:35 am)

Your stomach twists more, surely this was a coincidence and not the universe sending you a sign, right?

Y/N: Did you just send your ex a ‘you up’ text? (2:39 am)

Y/N: Classily Toru (2:39 am)

He sharply inhales, the use of his first name leaves him shocked. All night you had avoided his name altogether, going to the lengths of talking to the wooden table, but here you were using his first name. He has two favorite sounds: a volleyball smacking his hand and the way you say his name, especially his first name. You stare at the text, mentally kicking yourself for the slip up, but it felt comfortable.

Oikawa: I didn’t mean it like that (2:41 am)

Oikawa: Just wanted to talk (2:41 am)

Your hands shake as your thumbs hover over where the J and D are located. Could you? Could you just talk to Oikawa? Act as if he didn’t carelessly toss everything in the closest airport trashcan as he walked towards his gate three years ago? Could you talk to him like you did back when you first met and had become friends? Before you have time to type anything, it buzzes again in your hand and your chest constricts.

Oikawa: I know this is three years late (2:45 am)

Oikawa: And this won’t mean much at all (2:45 am)

Oikawa: Wait, I’m going to call. Hold on (2:46 am)

His hands start to sweat, feeling clammy as he tries to calm his nerves. You start to slightly panic before practically jumping out of bed and rushing into the bathroom. The light blinds you momentarily and the door clicks shut just as his name pops up on your screen, your phone buzzing repeatedly.

Taking one last breath you swipe the screen, putting your phone to your ear, “Hello?

He picks up on the shakiness of your voice, hoping his will sound more still, “Hey.”

Your stomach is all but completely knotted up as his voice fills your mind. It’s soft, like it usually was right before school in the early mornings or when he answered the phone right after he woke up. But you pick up on how it shakes just like yours, wondering what has him so nervous.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.”

“It’s…” he cuts you off.

“Wait, please let me get this all out.”

You nod, instantly realizing he can’t see you.

“An apology won’t ever be enough for what I did. What I put you through. But I am so sorry.”

Tears gently fall down your face, you wanted those words for years. Dreamed about hearing him call and apologize, saying that he made a mistake. Here you were, squatting on the floor in your dorm bathroom at nearly 3 am getting exactly what you wanted all those years ago, but is it what you need now?

“I know and I forgive Toru.” You feel winded, wondering if you really did forgive him. You know that you did, you had years ago because it was once you did that you started to feel better.

There’s a wide smile on his face, “Thank you, Y/N. Could we maybe get together? To just catch up, that is.”

“I have a project tomorrow, but I’m free Sunday.” You bite your lip nervously, but feel your stomach untwist only to fill with butterflies? Are you allowed to get butterflies with an ex? Maybe they were more like moths.

“Sunday. It’s a date then.” He catches his words just as they leave him, he leans against the wall feeling like an idiot. You were dating his best friend, he needed to word things more carefully, he didn’t want to come between you and Iwa.

“Yeah. A date.” You don’t think twice about the term, it was just an expression.

What you also didn’t think twice about is that the room Oikawa is in shares a wall with Iwa’s. The exact wall that Oikawa is leaning up against and the same Iwa who heard just enough of the conversation to feel heartbroken.

This was part of the reason when he tried telling you where Oikawa had been planning to stay, he didn’t correct your when you said girlfriend even though he knew that wasn’t correct. He was going to stay with his sister, but his nephew was sick and he didn’t want to risk it. The same way Iwa didn’t want to risk giving Oikawa an in with you. He trusts you, more than anything, but that doesn’t stop his insecurities from creeping in convincing him that he’s not worthy of anything; especially not someone like you.

When he asked you if you were still okay with dating him, it was more for him than you. He needed to know that he hadn’t been some last stitch way for you to hold onto Oikawa. That you had picked him for him, you had picked Iwaizumi Hajime and not Iwa-chan Oikawa’s best friend. And now at 3:10 am, those same insecurities wrap around him as he can’t help but wonder if your relationship is on stolen time.

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years ago

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THE OBEY ME BOYS AS YANDERES: GAKUEN EDITION

**thank u @sl33pymimikyu and @thelazystrawberryboi for the ideas! es para todos ustedes

You are accepted into a particularly exclusive, prestigious school. As you are of low class, it is an acceptance based purely on merit. A fact that some of your wealthier classmates use to bully you. Due to your lonely upbringing – your parents and close relatives died when you were young – you find yourself determined to make friends, pass with honors, and prove yourself.

Unfortunately, you just so happen to draw the wrong kind of attention.

Word Count: 3,369

TW: Blood, Violence, Mention of Sexual Harassment, Yandere

PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO / TRIGGERED BY THESE TOPICS. I HAVE TAGGED AND INCLUDED TRIGGER WARNINGS.

BELPHEGOR

You can’t remember the last time you’ve managed to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. Time passes by in a sleep-addled haze, given your penchant for afternoon naps and sleeping in, and each day is a struggle to focus on your classes. Belphie tells you that you should see a professional for your narcolepsy, that he can pay for the best medical treatment, but you won’t hear it. You’re not even sure if it is narcolepsy, considering its strange, sudden onset. You’ve tried time and time again to cure your condition. Pills, alarms, strict sleeping schedules – you’ve tried them all, to no avail.

Thankfully, you have Belphie at your side. At his behest, you’ve taken residence in one of his guest bedrooms for the time being. A precautionary measure to watch your condition. Without his generosity, you’re not sure if you’d have the ability to keep your scholarship.

You struggle to read the textbook in front of you. The words go in and out of focus, making you dizzy, and you grip the edge of the desk to stop yourself from falling over. It only works for so long. One wrong movement, and you feel your body tumble out of the chair and towards the ground.

Much to your surprise, Belphie catches you before you can crash into the floor. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“You shouldn’t be so careless,” Belphie chides, firmly placing you back in your seat. You mumble a quiet thank you, trying to hold him in your wavering vision, but he merely waves off your gesture of gratitude. “Coffee’s by your book. If you want more, just tell me.”

The coffee mug is warm in your hands. Freshly brewed, homemade, and steaming, with the coffee beans roasted to a deep flavor. Belphie insists on making cups of coffee for you day and night, which you greatly appreciate. Honestly, you’re not sure if you would even be able to stay awake without the extra caffeine.

LUCIFER

You’re sure that this is a direct violation of school policy. One involving sexual harassment, specifically. Lucifer, your biology professor, is close enough that you can feel his breath tickling the nape of your neck. His skin radiates warmth, even through the fabric of his dress shirt, and the darkness of the classroom shrouds his expression from you. The result of a random and unexpected blackout during your tutoring session. While the contact isn’t exactly unwelcome – Lucifer is very, very attractive, after all – you’re not certain that you’re comfortable with the current situation. Especially when he hasn’t made any indication of –

“There’s something dirty on your uniform,” your professor says, pulling the aforementioned object off your shoulder. You blink. “I see that blackouts are a bit too nerve-wracking for you.”

Oh.

He sighs. “I thought you heard me tell you that.”

You didn’t, but he could have just repeated himself. It’s not like you don’t have the ability to straighten your uniform. The blackout does have you a little on edge, besides – it would have been better if you had done it yourself.

The conversation for the rest of your tutoring session plays out nearly as you had expected. There is pride in having a perfectly clean, composed school uniform, he states, and it is imperative that all students learn the importance of appearance in the workplace. All impurities must be cleansed. Removed totally from one’s person and the surroundings. That is a major part of the school’s creed, after all. It would do no good not to follow it.

You wish you had listened that day. You wish that you had noticed the hunger in his gaze at the time.

Yet you would only realize the importance in his words months later. Your hands handcuffed to a pipe, the light flickering above in the sterile laboratory, and that hungry gaze branded on Lucifer’s features. The classmate that had dared to kiss and touch you without your permission had been strapped to the table.

You hadn’t bothered to listen to him the first time. If this lecture in biology isn’t enough, Lucifer says, then he’s not sure how else he can explain it to you.

MAMMON

He did give you a chance, he explains. Countless chances. If you had just agreed to be his the first time, you wouldn’t have forced his hand. If you had just allowed him to be greedy with your time, he wouldn’t have had to pay off his hitmen. If you had just given him everything of yourself – your time, your touch, your smile – then he wouldn’t have felt compelled to do what he did. So it is your fault that all your friends are dead, really. It is your fault that you have no one else but him now, if you can even consider it that.

Which you don’t, of course. You had glared at him from the golden bars of your cage as he had gone on and on in his spiel, adjusting your position in your shackles, and then you had spat on him when he dared to come close. While he had effectively monopolized your time, he would never have your heart. He would never truly have all of you, no matter how much he tried. No amount of money could buy it. You had called him a monster, a demon, a complete fucking bastard – anything and everything that you could think of. You had told him that nothing he could do would ever win you over. Your demands on being freed from your prison had fallen on deaf ears.

Even now, with a knife to your throat and his body pressed too close to yours, you don’t regret that decision.

“If I finally stop fucking around and take ya for myself, would ya hate me?” Mammon draws out, testing the blade against the delicate skin of your neck. You force yourself to stay still as blood begins to trail down the edge. “’Course ya would. But I’m nicer than that, so I think I’ll go ahead and explain again. Just for good measure.”

You gasp as you are driven higher up the golden bars of the cage, the cold metal digging uncomfortably into your back. Still, you fail to relent. Your glare is just as intense as ever, focused on Mammon, and Mammon responds in kind. The cocky smile that makes itself known on his features does nothing but irritate you, as is the sickening knowledge that you have little control over the situation. Your escape attempts have only angered Mammon further.

“I’d carve yer tongue out first, ya know,” he reassures you. “I’d carve yer heart out and take it for myself before ya gave it to anyone else. If ya think you can pull a fast one on me – well, ya got another thing comin’.”

LEVIATHAN

Each drop that falls from the shower head is a needle against your back. Piercing, biting, and numbing in the most unpleasant manner possible. Worst of all, it is a sensation that has forced you into a violent awakening, as if your mind had been clouded by some unknown entity. Denial, contradiction, some sort of psychological defense mechanism – regardless of whatever the name is, it is one that has been ripped away from your consciousness. And so you find yourself curling into fetal position on the floor of Levi’s shower, attempting to drive away the thoughts that threaten your already fragile psyche. Needle-like drops bury themselves into your skin, the tiled floor of the Levi’s exorbitant bathroom has rendered your fingers numb, and your wet hair plasters itself against the nape of your neck.

You should have known. Perhaps there was some part of you that was aware of Levi’s atrocities, quietly connecting the murders and disappearances to his obsessive adoration for you. Perhaps some part of you had known all along, and you had chosen to ignore it.

“Do you need help in there?” Levi’s voice calls beyond the door. You flinch. “You didn’t fall or anything, did you?”

Your mouth is dry when you open it to speak. The words are silent.

The cases were too clean to be anything but planned. You’re painfully aware of that now. The fact that they were all romantic rivals of some sort hadn’t been a coincidence. They hadn’t drowned on their own, either. Something had pulled them under, deep into the black waters and underwater caves, and they had little choice but to do so. Nitrogen narcosis and hypoxia could only occur so many times. Someone with a knowledge of the underwater cave systems near your school had known of its dangers and lured the victims there.

Who was more suited to do that than the captain of the swim team? It is an answer that is almost too obvious – as well as one that he had skillfully manipulated to hide himself in plain sight.

A knock at the door. It swings open. You can’t bring yourself to move.

Levi tuts as he gathers you up in a towel, doing his best to pat you dry. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he says, sighing. “Still, if you were too tired to shower without falling over, you should’ve told me. We’re friends, right? You can ask me to do anything.”

You hadn’t asked him to drown every one of his romantic rivals, but you keep that to yourself. Instead, you mumble something that you hope sounds like agreement.

Even as Levi works to dress you in your catatonic state, you think of the last expression you had seen on your date’s face. A mixture of surprise and bewilderment. You had noticed the familiar glove of the hand that had pulled him under, and the revelation had shocked you into complete and utter stillness for a few moments. Then you were desperately swimming upwards, your panic forcing you to use too much of your oxygen. You’re not sure if Levi dragged your date into a false chimney. You’re not even sure how Levi got you out of the water and to his family’s manor.

Regardless, you’ve been unconscious for nearly a day, your date’s body hasn’t resurfaced, and you’re now trapped in the same room as a murderer.

SATAN

While you haven’t sustained a concussion, you’ve awoken with more injuries than you would like. Which is just as well, considering what you’ve been through. One of your many harassers had saw it fit to throw you from a story balcony – payment for your uppity nature, he had said – and you had been powerless to fend him and his friends off. Your books had gone off the railing first, your papers fluttering to the ground. Next was your bag itself, your pens and pencils, and the calculator you had saved up to buy. You had flinched at the sounds of your belongings cracking and scattering against the concrete below.

And then it was your turn.

You remember screaming. Begging for your life. Despite your pleas – you wouldn’t score as high next time, you hadn’t cheated, this could very well kill you – they had decided to toss you off the balcony.

The crack of your own bones was sickening. You had fractured your femur, broken one of your arms, and earned more than a few lacerations and bruises from the impact – but you had lived. Satan had managed to find you mere seconds after you had fallen, he had explained. A fortunate coincidence. As the heir of a healthcare corporation, it had been no trouble to call an ambulance and have you treated for your injuries. He and his family could waive the fees for your treatment, of course. It was the least he could do as a friend.

Yet you have a nagging feeling that something is wrong. Something off about his story. You were dragged out of your dorm at night and taken to a secluded part of campus that night, you remember. How had he known you would be there? How had he found you in such a short amount of time? And the perpetrators had mentioned something about being paid off, too. If you didn’t know any better, then you would think that –

The door to your hospital room slides open.

“How are you feeling?” Satan asks, a worried expression on his face. He crosses the room with quick, long strides and places a tray of food by your bed. Curried vegetables, white rice, and a hot cup of tea. “I know it’s not the best, but I hope it’s to your liking. I had you put in a more private wing, too – I figured you’d want some space.”

He shouldn’t feel obligated to apologize for hospital food of all things, you tell him. A pang of guilt strikes you. How could you think so badly of one of your only friends? You’re grateful that he was there.

Satan smiles. “Well, that’s good to hear,” he says. “My family owns this hospital, so feel free to stay here for as long as you like. I’ll inform the school later.”

You offer him a grateful smile, thanking him. He responds in kind.

Why would Satan pay someone to throw you off a balcony? The idea itself is completely ridiculous. Maybe you should get yourself checked for a concussion. Satan – your bookish, glasses-wearing, and studious friend – is about as dangerous as a newborn kitten.

ASMODEUS

It was, admittedly, a slow process. Anyone that had ever dared to harass and bully you had disappeared for a variety of reasons. Inexplicable ailments that sent them to the hospital. Drug overdoses that turned out to be fatal. Air embolisms for a variety of reasons, despite the youth and health of the victim. Calling cards that sent them to schools overseas. Freak accidents regarding pharmaceuticals. Mix-ups in medication.

Yet you ignored the strange occurrences. You sorely regret that decision.

Asmodeus twirls a ring of keys on one of his fingers, offering you that familiar, teasing wink. Given that you’ve been locked in this lavish room for days, however, it has an entirely new meaning now. He steps towards you with deliberation, his heeled boots clicking lightly against the marble floor, and you swallow audibly. He’s trying to intimidate you. He’s only trying to scare you. Asmodeus hasn’t raised a finger to you once since your capture, so you can at least have faith in that. Other than the drugged tea he had given you – a measure to render you unconscious and drag you in here – he hasn’t done anything else untoward.

“You’re really cute, you know,” he teases. “All that planning and scheming and plotting. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I thought you knew me better than that.”

You won’t say anything to anyone, you tell him. If he lets you out of here, you won’t tell anyone what he did. It would be disastrous if his family were to find out that he was using their pharmaceutical company for such purposes, wouldn’t it? While you don’t understand why he’s killed so many people, you promise you’ll –

Asmodeus stops for a moment, thinking. The keys are just an arm’s reach away. If you can just bolt off the bed fast enough and knock him out, you’ll have them. You’re fairly sure that you can overpower your waifish former friend.

“Really?” Asmodeus pouts. “You promise?”

You promise. You open your arms to give him a hug, urging him closer. You two are friends, right?

A moment passes. The tension between the both of you is thick and palpable, as is the silence.

And then Asmodeus is flying into your arms. You find yourself relaxing for a brief second as he sinks into your embrace, holding you close in that familiar way, and you let your guard down. This is the person who so valiantly defended you from harassment during the first few weeks in school. This is the person that helped you clean up your locker after class, emptied the tacks out of your shoes, and wiped off the derogatory scribbles on your desk. This is the person that had bothered to introduce himself on the first day of school, regardless of your status. If this hadn’t happened – if he hadn’t drugged and imprisoned you here – you would have considered him an infallible friend. Now, if you could just shove him to the –

Pain shoots from your shoulder. You turn to see a bright syringe sinking into the skin of your shoulder, the liquid forcing its way into your body. Asmodeus offers you a smile as you sink to the floor. Cradles you as your body goes slack. You mouth wordless questions at him.

“You idiot. You didn’t think I was that dumb, did you?” Asmodeus draws the now empty syringe from your shoulder. He sighs. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now, but I guess you’re still as dense as ever. Guess you’ll need some more reinforcement.”

Your vision blurs. A lock of hair is brushed away from your face and tucked behind your ear. Your limbs are unbearably heavy, your body refusing to listen to you, and your eyelids follow suit.

“It’s okay, though,” he reassures you, placing a quick kiss against your forehead. “Even if your mind breaks, I’ll still love you.”

BEELZEBUB

Despite being on the way to inherit a number of high-class restaurants, you often find Beel doing menial work in the kitchen. It was a sight that had caught you off-guard the first day of your part-time job – one that you haven’t gotten quite used to, actually. Beel explains that it’s best for him to know every aspect of the food and customer service industry, that it takes a load off the other employees, but you don’t quite believe that. You’re pretty sure he’s just there to snack on bread sticks and extra food. Most of the time, anyway.

Still, you can’t deny that he’s exceptionally good at cooking dishes made of ground meat. It becomes tradition to make you dinner after seeing you working in one of his father’s restaurants, which you gladly welcome.

And so you are treated to pub burgers topped with blue cheese and arugula. Spaghetti with wine-infused meatballs and freshly shredded parmesan. Baked mac and cheese filled with ground meat, five cheeses, and cream sourced from a local dairy farm. Shepherd’s pie with perfectly piped mashed potatoes on top. Wild mushroom soup with buttered, crusty bread. Stuffed zucchini drizzled with olive oil. After a long day of both school and part-time work, you gladly clear your plate each and every time.

You watch a news segment on your phone over dinner one evening. A newscaster prattles on about missing students in the area, some of their names seeming vaguely familiar, and you find yourself staring at their photos. While they are suspected to be murdered, it appears that the bodies are nowhere to be found. The killer must have some way of disposing most of the body parts, if not all of them. Anyone with information is welcome to –

Beel reaches over and turns off your phone for you, much to your surprise. There is a strangely serious expression on his face as he informs you that it’s rude to have your phone out at dinner – especially when he’s gone through the trouble of frying up croquettes. A hot plate of freshly fried, meat-stuffed croquettes is placed in front of you, and your thoughts about the strange news segment are immediately dismissed.

Halfway through dinner and with most of the croquettes devoured between the both of you, it occurs to you that you’ve never asked what kind of meat you’ve been eating.

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sweatpeeee · 4 years ago

Text

Love potion AU

Part 1

Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 2k

Summary: Peter Parker, infatuated with an uninterested MJ, creates a liquid potion to have her fall in love with him, but what if the wrong person drinks it???

Warnings: lowkey angst, Peter is a desperate fool, Ned is a supportive friend and MJ is an absolute queen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Pete-” You blush, books clutched between your arms.

“Hey.” You notice Peter glancing behind you constantly, barely acknowledging your greeting. A forced thin tight smile replaces your shy smile, but soon recovers when you see Ned beside you, you give him a grin, readjusting your backpack strap,

“Hey Ned, new hat?” You chuckle lightly at the boy with a red fedora sitting on top of his hair.

“Why Hello, m’Lady, and yes- I do have a new hat in the collection.” He beamed, you laugh at his response,

“Well it looks great on you-”

“Hey, have you guys seen MJ? I haven’t seen her enter the school yet-” Peter interrupted your conversation with Ned, His eyes scanning the hallways and the entrance doors.

“Peter, give it a rest- MJ made it quite obvious that she’s not interested in a relationship right now-” Ned seemed tired of constantly lecturing his friend about his crush on the girl, but that didn’t seem to stop him from ogling her from afar.

“Yeah- I know Ned, but maybe I can convince her to-” Ned was quick to shut that down,

“Absolutely not- Peter, do you realize how insane that sounds?!” It sounded like Ned was about to patronize the boy some more before you decided you heard enough and walk away, sad and in a way- feeling a bit rejected. Although you did nothing that would cause you to become rejected, you felt like Peter rejected your presence in general. It’s not anything new, it’s not like it’s the first time either. You fell for Peter when you first met him, the boy was an absolute sweetheart, you had no idea why every girl wasn’t head over heels like you were. The kindest and most genuine smile you’ve ever seen resting upon his face with adoring puppy brown eyes. With a heavy heart you went to your first period class 10 minutes early.

Ned finished his lesson with his friend, Peter grumbling under his breath- Ned spun around in your direction just to find that you weren't there, even glancing around hoping you haven’t left… again. Again and again, every day- you always left early and Ned noticed, he also noticed when Peter didn’t. Dejected, Ned sighs loudly before glaring at his best friend,

“Well, are you happy?” He huffs

Peter cocks his head to the side, brows furrow, clearly puzzled, “About…?”

Ned was getting frustrated, “Oh, you know- the fact that you’ve technically been a horrible friend and blatantly ignored Y/n’s existence.”

“Y/n was here?” Ned reached over and slapped the back of Peter’s head.

“Ow! What the hell Ned!” Peter rubbed the back of his head realising a groan.

“You deserve that, and more-” Ned then turned on his heels and walked to his first period as soon as the bell rang, a slightly disoriented Peter ran after him, his curls bouncing along with his small jog,

“What? Why? Ned!... Wait- god, Ned! What does that mean?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*y/n*

“God, I don’t even know what to do anymore! It’s like- It’s like I don’t even exist! Not even as friends! He couldn’t even look me in the eyes! I’m not that ugly… am I? Maybe-” You lay on your bed with your legs up against the wall while a bit of your head peeks off the side.

“Alright let me stop you right there.” Michelle interjected, looking up from her book and placing her book mark before shutting it closed, “You are not ugly- don’t ever second guess that, plus the fact that you question your value because of some boy is just plain stupid, I mean like, women have been subjected to a society where our beauty and our worth is determined by men, and that’s honestly disgusting, like who the hell do they think they are-”

“MJ~” you grumble, plopping a pillow on your face.

“Right right, my bad- point is, you’re a bad bitch- and no boy should make you feel like you’re less, I mean this is Peter we’re talking about right?” MJ reaches and nudges the pillow away from your grasp, hitting the ground with a soft thud, you nod in agreement,

“That’s the thing MJ, like I understand I’m not supposed to let a boy make me feel less but when I look at him, it’s like the whole room lights up,” your hands flailing above you, occasionally tangling your fingers through your h/c hair, “and he has the most beaming smile and it just melts my heart, and I just can't keep that ‘I don’t give a fuck what you say’ attitude with him.” A smile creeps on your face a tthe thought of the adorable boy with the brown locks and puppy dog eyes, “I just wanna tell him that he’s the sweetest and he makes my knees go weak and my heart swoons and wants to jump out of my chest at the sight of his beautiful fucking face.” you finish with a sigh, as if you’d been holding that in all day, and you kind of were.

“First of all, give me a second to hold back the urge to projectile vomit all over your room-”

You let out a chuckle as you cover your face with your hands, your ears burning in embarrassment, “MJ, stoooop” Your hand’s muffling your words

“No seriously, that was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard in my life- did you rehearse that?” She laughs. You don’t reply to her question.

“Y/n, tell me you don’t rehearse that in the mirror-” She gasps with a smile

“I mean sometimes-” Before you can finish, Michelle is bursting with laughter, your laugh shortly joins along.

You adored these moments with your best friend, and you appreciated how forward and comfortable she got with you after a bit in your friendship, you guys were such great friends, anyone could see it. Not a lot of people saw this side of Michelle, the funny, goofy, and loving person you know now. You could understand why Peter fell in love with her, I mean not only does she have a great personality, but she is absolutely stunning as well without even trying, wearing no makeup and a simple jogger and t-shirt and she could be on the cover of Vogue.

Michelle’s laughter died down, wiping her tears that were at the edge of her eyes, coughing a bit from the force her lungs gave out, “god, who is this girl Peter is so ‘In Love’ with, as you put it, anyways?”

Your laughter died down, clearing your throat a bit, you sat up, your legs crossed beneath you, “um, well- it’s kinda hard to explain-” your eyes drop to your fingers that tug on your cuticles, a habit you had if you were nervous or anxious, Michelle notices, “Stop picking at your fingers, you know that they’ll bleed,” you jerk your fingers away and instead start playing with the loose strings from your socks, “and what's complicated about Peters crush?” her eyes squint as if she’s trying to get into your head.

“Well, i-it’s not that it’s complicated- it’s just, i dunno… I- “ your eyes are on your shirt, your teeth nibbling on your lower lip.

“Y/n, would you quit stalling and just tell me?” MJ stands up and sits on the bed, shifting to lay her head on your lap, you softly chuckle at her antics and lightly slap her forehead, “God bless that forehead” you giggle as Michelle groans.

“So?” her finger reaches up and boops your nose. Dejected you sigh.

Might as well tell the truth, lying will just get me into more shit anyways. Besides, MJ’s my best friend, she deserves the truth.

“Liz.” god, you felt like a dumbass.

“Liz?” MJ cringes

Alright, now’s your chance to come clean-

“Yup! I know right.” Your voice definitely went up a couple octaves, your palms instantly clamming up.

“Huh, I guess that makes sense-” She shrugs

“Y-yeah, I definitely think so too... “

Makes sense?? What is that supposed to mean??

“No you don’t, listen- don’t stress about it. Liz has nothing on you, “ MJ smirks up at you, sitting up and placing her hands on her shoulders making you face her, “ You are stunning y/n, like genuinely- I’m not saying this because you’re my best friend- because you know that i’m brutally honest 24/7, i’m saying this because it’s true.” Your ears burn pink and you cast your gaze to the side, “Hey, look at me- I mean it. You are so beautiful, no matter what- all those imperfections? All those flaws? They are beautiful and they are real. They prove that you aren’t a fake ass bitch who replaced everything with plastic surgery, it means that you have flaws and that you love your own flaws. Ok? And if Peter can’t see your beauty while accepting your imperfections, then he's absolutely not worth your time.” Hearing MJ talk so highly of you made your eyes brim with tears, MJ smiles in adoration.

You let out a choked up laugh “Thanks MJ” you sniffle

“Of course, y/n. And remember what I said about boys?”

“Boys aint shit” You burst into giggles

“That’s right queen, and don’t you forget it-” She stands up and holds your hands in hers, dragging you to your feet, “Now let’s go get pizza or something- I’m starving.” she begins pulling you towards the door, You laugh once again and follow her out.

*Peter*

“It’s honestly incredible how he just suddenly comes back to life, I mean what a plot twist-” Ned was ranting about the End of Skywalker, Peter couldn’t bring himself to care honestly so focused on finding a way to make the girl of his dreams fall for him. Was he looking it up? Yes. Every wikipedia article, witchy craft site, fuckboy sites, everything.

“Peter, are you even listening to me?” Ned sighs and puts on the spiderman mask.

“Sounds fantastic, ned.” a mumble leaves Peters lips as his fingers mindlessly tap at the keyboard for more results to his search.

“See, that response right there doesn’t make sense. I mean I asked a yes or no question and you replied with ‘fantastic’-”

“Woah. no way” Peter once again mindlessly interrupted his friend.

“Oh for the love of god, Peter! Give it a rest bro! This is deadass everyday, like all you talk about is having her fall for you! Besides all those sites won't help, to make MJ fall for you would take some magical miracle!” Ned burst, feeling lightheaded.

Finally Peter stops his rapid typing and spins to look at Ned, eye’s wide and his jaw to the floor, “Ned! You absolute genius!” Peter shoots up from his seat, grasping his coat and wallet as well as his house keys.

“I’m- what is going on-” Ned removes the mask, confusion written all over his face.

“Magic, Ned! Magic! I’ll be right back, dude- Bye!” and with that Peter left in search of a magical wizard.

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

“No absolutely not.” Dr. Strange muttered as he read his book, probably a spiritual thing.

“Oh come on, Mr. Strange-” Peter pleaded, nearly pouting.

“It’s Doctor Strange, and my answer is still no.” Dr. Strange stood up, his eyes glued to the book as he swirled his hands in a graceful motion to create a small table with more books and a glass of tea of which Dr. Strange takes a sip of before walking around some more. Peter right on his heels.

“Look, all I’m asking is to have a small enchanting spell of some kind, or even a potion-”

Finally Dr.Strange finally looks up from his book and turns towards the young spiderboy, “Peter, you do realize that you are asking me to enchant a human-”

“Of course I know-”

“No you don’t, you are tampering with the emotions of a human being. This could cause some real trauma to the one being enchanted. Are you aware of that?” Strange seemed to become frustrated with Peter’s persistence.

“Well… I am now-” Peter’s gaze fell at his feet, fidgeting with his fingers, a habit he had when he was nervous, “Listen- I understand if you don’t want to help me, but all I want is some time. Just.. I dunno, a week- to prove that I can be the perfect boyfriend for her. I just want time to show her, and when the time runs out, if she’s still not interested, then I won’t insist. Please.” Peter’s soft brown eyes gazed up at the wizard, his pout showing itself.

“Oh no… not the pout.” Dr.Strange groans, he rubs his eyes in frustration, inhaling deeply before muttering, “One week. No more than one week.”

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

And that concludes part one of my Love Potion AU series! thanks so much for reading- and i’m so sorry it took so long, like I said, I’m a HUGE procrastinator. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or have any suggestions on how to improve my writing! Thanks Again and I hope you enjoy!

@puremusicbeat-blog @halparkebitch @missmulti @everyoneyoulovedies @le-yona @universeoffandoms1 @writeroutoftime @bluelida

Ok just an FYI I tagged people who asked to be tagged AND people who voted on it, if you don’t want to be tagged, message me and I will remove you from the list!

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hopeless-deerie-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

MC who’s panic response when in danger is to say kinky shit (eg: harder) and the brother’s reactions

Masterlist and requests info as well as the fandoms I write for is the pinned post on my page, so go check it out if you like this! Had some fun with the prompt because hey why not XP

WARNINGS: NSFW, SWEARING, KINKS, MINOR SPOILERS PRE EP.10, MAJOR SPOILERS for pre ep.20 for Belphie’s one, so avoid that one if you arent there yet. Lemme kno what you think and enjoy!

LUCIFER

- This poor man

- He thought he could handle the human exchange student

- Honestly so far things have been going quite well

- And then he gets angry and you step in between to stop him from hurting his brothers

- Part of him is impressed you even have the guts

- But he is Very Angry and you should move if you don’t want to get hurt

- He takes a step closer and grasps your neck, about to make a warning threat

- When suddenly you just scream at the top of your lungs, fear wide in your eyes

- “HARDER DADDY”

- *Lucifer.EXE has stopped working*

- You broke the poor man

- Gobsmacked is the only word to describe the expression on his face

- He’s so shocked that his anger dissipates and he turns back into his regular form

- At which point you collapse to your knees heavy breathing

- “fuck, fuck, um sorry, uh when I panic I just blurt out anything to try and throw people off and uh, well normally kinky stuff seems to work”

- Lucifer just blinks

- Then smirks

- “Come to my room later tonight, a punishment is in order for distracting me from disciplining my idiot brother”

- Your heart is pounding a mile a minute, face flushed, and from the look on Lucifer’s face he knows it

- Yeah good luck looking him in the eye for a while without immediately remembering and getting super flustered

- You did this to yourself hun

- When you do go to see him that night you expect something hot, but he just sits you down for a two hour long lecture on ‘appropriate use of language’

- Of course once he has drained all the excitement from you, just as he dismisses you, he runs a gloved finger across your jaw, tilting your face up to his, standing a little too close for comfort

- “What darling, were you expecting something else when you came here?”

- He’s smirking, and you’re melting under his gaze

- He knows what he’s doing and is relishing in your squirms

- Sadistic bastard

- (but you love it)

MAMMON (read lucifer’s first)

- By this point mammon has already sprinted off, half of him thanking his luck at getting away scot free, the other half completely bamboozled (and kinda turned on) at what you said to get Lucifer to stop

- Of course the moment he sees you again he’ll burst out laughing

- Now that his life isn’t in immediate danger he can process the humour and oh man

- You really said THAT

- To LUCIFER

- And LIVED

- Maybe he should try it next time he’s about to get strung up by his ankles

- Nah it wouldn’t be worth the punishment plus his brothers would make sure he would never live it down

- Would be hilarious though

- But seriously, he’s pissing himself laughing

- Internally though, he wants you to say that again, this time to him

- And if you do?

- Man oh man, he will melt into a pile of blushing spluttering mess

- “H-Hey ya, ya can’t just go around sayin’ that stuff!”

- *pause*

- (under breath) “say it again, but louder”

- “What was that mammon?”

- “I-I said I GOTTA TAKE A SHOWER” *slams door as he runs away*

- It won’t be long till he’s back beside you, honestly just use this method any time you want a 5 minute break

LEVIATHAN

- Oh he was PISSED

- You beat him at the *clearly RIGGED* quiz and he wasn’t having any of it

- How could some measly normie possibly begin to understand the complexities of ‘The Tale Of The Seven Lords’ when you had only watched it for the first time last week and hadn’t even read the hundreds of manga that feed into the backstory!? What about the Extended Cut!? The Holiday Special!? The Japan Only Release of the secret episode where Henry gets possessed by an ancient cheese spirit and trapped in the fridge realm and the Lord of Corruption has to go and rescue him in a daring feat only ever seen by 17 pairs of eyes in stop-motion clay!?

- Rage coursed through him, and now in his demon form he stepped closer, ready to strike

- At least that was until…

- *anime girl voice*

- “CHOKE ME WITH YOUR TAIL ONII-CHAN”

- …

- Cue silence

- You could hear a pin drop

- Levi is BEET RED

- Drops out of demon form and stares open mouthed, wide eyed at you

- Asmo’s the first one to let out a snicker

- Then Satan

- Then Mammon

- Levi’s panic response is ‘Retreat to the bathtub-bed’ so that’s what he does

- Because Hoooooo he’s suddenly got a bulge in his pants and he *DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT*

- HOW did this stupid normie human NAIL Ruri-Chan’s voice from that one tentacle hentai he watched, had they seen it!?!? Were they secretly an Otaku like him!? Were they real life Ruri-Chan dressed up in a human costume!?!?

- And how did they know one of his kinks-

- HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO PROCESS THIS INFORMATION!?!?

- THAT IS NOT NORMIE BEHAVIOUR!!

- He will avoid you till the end of time until you go to him and explain and apologise

- But he will never see you in the same way again

- And if you two end up getting physical at any point in the future he will use this to your advantage

- Knowing what you like makes him feel more comfortable

- Poor baby needs reassurance though

- And you bet he’ll blush the whole time

SATAN (read Levi’s first)

- He was actually snickering at Lucifer’s expression when you said …*that*… to Levi, because he has never seen the eldest look so shocked and appalled

- Do it again human, keep going, drive Lucifer insane and let him watch

- He was shocked initially of course, but quickly morphed it into pleasant surprise

- And curiosity, if there’s one thing this man seeks out it’s knowledge

- And in this case, knowledge of just how many things he can get you to say in Lucifer’s presence to infuriate and/or horrify him

- He isn’t all that phased by what you said

- But he will tease you about it

- Only when Lucifer is around

- He likes watching the irritation in his eyes as you stutter over your words

- Or better yet when he Kabedons you to the wall and you yelp out an incoherently horny mish mash of words

- That is until one day he does this and your words ignite something in him other than his usual supressed anger boiling deep beneath the surface

- “M-MASTER MAKE ME BEG”

- Well, if you didn’t know what he was into... you do now

- His pupils immediately widen and there’s no missing it

- Something about the way he moves closer to you screams predator cornering prey

- He breathes and whispers softly against your neck

- “Say that again”

- You’re shell shocked

- “u-um.. m-master-“

- He nips at your earlobe he doesn’t care who’s watching

- Of course Mammon walks in and screams as he throws himself between the two of you shrieking incoherently

- But next time you’re alone, looking for a book in the library…

- …

- You and Satan may be a little, lets just say, preoccupied, with something other than books.

ASMODEUS

- Need I say anything here

- The only one who is 100% down with this straight off the bat

- Not even phased in the slightest

- “Oh, so that’s what you’re into huh~ hmmmm you have good taste” he practically purrs into your ear

- He’s running his hands over your hips, tracing your neck with his tongue

- The others have to tear him off of you but when they do he simply smiles and winks at you

- “You know where to find me if you want to play out your fantasies sweetie~!”

- If he catches you alone you know he will take that opportunity to do what ever it is you yelped out

- And of course he will pry to try and figure out more things you’re into

- Purposely make situations where you are more likely to blurt out yet another kink

- If you do go to him?

- Well, he’s the avatar of Lust for a reason

- And you will come to know just what that entails

- He will ensure you are completely satisfied, no leaving you all fired up and no place to go

- Good luck ever sleeping alone again

- Or ever sleeping again without him occupying your time and your bed first

- You will be busy every night, and will need to learn to avoid secluded closets and quiet rooms alone with him if you don’t want to get railed in public

- If there’s one thing Asmo appreciates, it’s Voyeurism

- And if you get caught, don’t think he’ll be stopping any time soon

- More likely than anything he’ll ask them to join if you’re comfortable with that

- But the pampering and aftercare he provides is second to none

- This man practically worships your body through sex

- If you didn’t know he was once an angel, well, you do now

BEELZEBUB

- Big beefy teddybear boi just wanted a midnight snack

- But he found a midnight snacc instead

- So he is shoulders deep in the fridge hunting for goods

- You come in to get a glass of water not noticing he is there

- So when he leans back, lapping up a full tub of custard pudding and swings the door of the fridge closed with a loud *thunk*

- You whip round in shock and your brain decides to betray you

- Or perhaps bless you, it really depends how you see it

- “WHY DONT YOU EAT ME OUT LIKE THAT”

- …

- Wide eyes

- Pupils dilated

- A new hunger is present and the avatar of Gluttony won’t stop till he’s satisfied

- He finished the pudding in a second flat and immediately made his way over to you, leaning close to your lips

- But he hesitates

- “Did you… mean that?”

- He asks

- He is hesitant but hopeful

- Clearly trying very hard to resist the urge to not ask permission and just dig in

- But he can see the blush on your face and tell that it was not something you meant to allow to slip out

- And come on, who could resist his big round eyes gazing down at you

- If you nod he’ll take it as enough of an answer

- I hope you don’t mind some public action because this boy is far too focused to cart you back to his room

- Up on the counter you go, legs spread, bottoms discarded

- If you’re wearing a skirt it is pushed up

- He licks up your thighs first before trying his meal

- This… well, you will be there a good while, he just can’t seem to get enough

- And once you have let him have a taste, the more he cannot have you, the more he will crave you till he’s begging you to let him try once again

- The only way he’s stopping is if somebody interrupts you, and it will take a couple tries to actually pull him away

- He’s a strong boy but he tries so hard to be gentle

- And if you’re embarrassed he’ll take you to his room and tuck you in, taking the couch out of fear of crushing you unless you insist that it is absolutely, 100% ok to share

- But if you do let him share…

- Don’t be surprised if you wake up to him trying you for breakfast

- It’ll be the only time he’s ever late to breakfast

- Eventually somebody will come and find you two and once again, it will take a few tries to pull him away

- But then he’ll give you a beaming smile like sunshine

- “You’re delicious, let’s go get some more breakfast, huh?”

- And lead you to the kitchen

- Diavolo forbid you can ever again look at a kitchen counter without getting turned on

BELPHEGOR ( SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 20)

- So, it’s not like it was a normal day to start with

- What with, ya kno

- Belphie breaking out from the attic

- And going ape shit

- And trying to kill you

- So of course, in what could have been your final moments, your last words, the thing they would read at your funeral or put on your gravestone

- Your brain really said ‘hm, how do I want to be remembered, as this very angry, vengeful demon stands over me ready to slaughter me?’

- “IF YOU’RE GUNNA FUCK ME OVER AT LEAST MAKE ME COME FIRST”

- …

- Belphie doesn’t know if it’s the rush of emotions or the heat of the moment or the fact that those are the worst last words that have ever been conceived by a living being

- But he just

- BURSTS out laughing

- Completely breaks

- He’s on the floor

- None of the brothers know what to do

- One minute he’s about to kill you, the next you say… *THAT* and then his reaction is to start rolling around on the floor, tears streaming down his face, uncontrollably laughing so hard that he’s clutching his sides in pain

- And what do you do?

- What do you say?

- “… wow I cant believe that worked”

- Absolute fits

- He can’t contain it

- He manages to supress his laughter for a short while once he finds out about Lilith’s connection to you

- But at this point he was already gunna keep you

- He can’t bring himself to kill anyone who would voluntarily go out with those words, it would be WAY more fun to spectate such a lunatic, not to mention the abject horror across Lucifer’s face is more than enough to sate his hunger for revenge for enough time to process and calm himself down

- But he’s not going to forget this, human

- You just wait

- …

- 3 days and you find out that he has teamed up with Mammon and made TSHIRTS

- TSHIRTS that say what could have been your last words

- Not only that, they’re selling them at Majolish and it’s a best seller

- And he’s rubbing it in your face

- Yeah

- You will never live this down

- At least he seems to be getting along with most of his brothers now

- Who knew you being a horny idiot with no verbal filter would be the thing that saved your life?

- Certainly not you

- All of Devildom knows what you said

- And you can bet Solomon bulk buys some t-shirts and sells them in the human world too

- He’ll wear one until Simeon manages to pry it off of him, saying it’s inappropriate to wear around Luke

- That won’t stop him from teasing you about it too though

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