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bloody-bee-tea · 1 year ago

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Height

No thoughts, just height difference

The General Mahamatra carries a presence with him. He’s adept at hiding it–capable of sneaking up on almost everyone–but generally, his presence is loud and overwhelming. He enters a room and he instantly demands attention.

Alhaitham had the privilege of witnessing it more than once already. There’s just something to the way Cyno carries himself in official meetings and it scarcely has to do with his headset. It might be the most distinctive sign of the General Mahamatra, but even dressed down and bandaged up Cyno manages to command the attention of everyone present with merely a look and the way he carries himself. Sometimes it feels as if the General Mahamatra is larger than life itself.

Alhaitham also has heard what people say about the General Mahamatra; how his reputation is huge and his legacy will carry on, long after he’s gone.

Alhaitham doesn’t disagree with any of that, though to him the General Mahamatra is even more. To him, the General Mahamatra is Cyno.

And Cyno is small.

His presence might be great, the power he commands terrifying and overpowering, but physically, he’s just a sliver of a man. Alhaitham knows of course, just what kind of power lies behind the deceptively slim body–has felt it first hand during their clash at Aaru Village–but that doesn’t change the fact that Cyno is almost an entire head shorter than him.

He’s not even of a good height for forehead kisses, something that Alhaitham laments every morning, when he awkwardly has to bend down until his lips connect with the crown of Cyno’s head. Not that a little discomfort is going to stop him because nothing can stop him from showering Cyno with his love. Not even the glower he gets in return.

“Stop that,” Cyno says, very notably not rising on his feet to make it easier on Alhaitham, but Alhaitham knows it for the token protest it is.

The blush dusting Cyno’s cheeks gives him away.

“Tomorrow, maybe,” Alhaitham says, and they both know very well that he won’t stop it, not tomorrow or any day after.

Cyno huffs, but doesn’t protest anymore, and Alhaitham just catches the hint of a smile on his face when he turns away from him.

~*~*~

Cyno’s wrists are delicate. His arms are capable of wielding the spear with a frightful power and they are able to block the heaviest of attacks but to Alhaitham, his wrists seem fragile, as if they could splinter apart at any given moment.

It doesn’t help that he can easily wrap his hands around Cyno’s wrists, his fingers circling them with space to spare.

“What are you doing?” Cyno suspiciously asks him, eying the hand around his wrist and Alhaitham isn’t even sure why or when he reached out for him.

Something about Cyno just calls to him, he guesses.

“This,” Alhaitham answers, trying to smoothly cover up his unconscious gesture and uses the grip he has on Cyno’s wrist to raise his hand to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles.

“Alhaitham, we’re at work. I was handing you important documents,” Cyno sighs out, clearly exasperated, but Alhaitham only shrugs.

“And I’m thanking you properly for it.”

Cyno narrows his eyes at him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You like it,” Alhaitham shoots back, noting the fact that Cyno has not wrenched his arm free of his grasp yet, even though they both know he easily could.

Cyno’s hesitation with that gives Alhaitham time to put the grip he has on him to another good use; he tugs on Cyno’s arm until he stumbles right where Alhaitham wants him to be.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Cyno whispers from his spot between Alhaitham’s legs but the only answer he gets is a kiss.

It should be answer enough, anyway.

And it seems to be, because the instigator of the second kiss is certainly not Alhaitham.

~*~*~

Alhaitham eyes Cyno's hands. They are strong around his spear, sure and steady with their grip and Alhaitham knows just how hard the fingers can cling on to him.

It doesn't change the fact that Cyno's fingers are slender and his hands are small. Probably small enough for Alhaitham's own to fully engulf his hand.

"What is it now?" Cyno asks with a sigh, coming to a stop with his training and Alhaitham smiles as he hears the exasperated fondness in his voice.

"Come here?" he asks and even though Cyno rolls his eyes at him, he vanishes his spear and makes his way over to Alhaitham.

That alone is cause enough to immediately kiss him when he's in reaching distance, Alhaitham thinks and then does exactly that.

"That was not what you wanted," Cyno says when they part and in answer Alhaitham holds up his hand.

"I want to see," he simply says, not bothering to explain himself further but—like always—Cyno indulges him by placing his hand against Alhaitham's.

Alhaitham’s hands are bigger; his palm broader and his finger longer, just like he knew they would be.

Seeing it though, is entirely different than just knowing.

"Satisfied?" Cyno asks, clearly eager to get back to his training but he's stopped when Alhaitham intertwines their fingers.

"Never, when it comes to you," he honestly gives back and watches Cyno's face go soft.

"Good," he whispers right before he steps in for a kiss and Alhaitham marvels at that just as much as he marvels at the smaller hand in his.

~*~*~

Alhaitham eyes Cyno’s waist. His midriff is always exposed, for everyone to see, and Alhaitham thinks it might rankle him more if he wasn’t so certain that he’s the only one to touch. And he wants to touch.

“Alhaitham,” Cyno warningly says, clearly already picking up on what Alhaitham is thinking about, but now that the thought entered his head, he can’t stop himself.

He wonders if Cyno’s waist is small enough and his own hands big enough to touch once he encircles it.

Only one way to find out, Alhaitham thinks.

“I want to try something,” Alhaitham says already marching up to Cyno who puts a hand out to stop him.

“We’re in public,” he says, giving a pointed look to the people around them at the market but Alhaitham couldn’t care less.

Everyone knows that they are in a relationship, so he fails to see how it matters. Well, almost.

“Are you uncomfortable with that?” Alhaitham wants to know, because that really is the only reason he could see to not go through with his experiment right now.

Cyno huffs out something that could be called a laugh and then levels Alhaitham with a look.

“I let you kiss me during an official meeting where every high ranking person in Sumeru was present, including our Archon. You’re so smart; take a guess as to what the answer could be.”

“Good,” Alhaitham nods and continues to close the distance between them. “I just want to–” he mutters and trails off as his hands make contact with Cyno’s bare skin.

His fingers don’t quite touch, but only barely. He thinks if he squeezes–

“Alhaitham!” Cyno’s voice is choked and Alhaitham’s gaze snaps from his hands around his middle to Cyno’s eyes.

He tries to put up a stern front, but Alhaitham can see the fire burning behind that.

“I think we’re done with our shopping, right?” he innocently asks and lets his hands slide off Cyno’s skin when he whirls around, marching back to his home.

Alhaitham guesses that is answer enough, though the way Cyno sucks in his breath once they are in the bedroom to make Alhaitham’s hands fit more easily around his waist certainly is an answer as well.

~*~*~

Alhaitham wakes up when Cyno’s cloak hits the floor. He has to blink against the sleepiness still clinging to him but once his eyes fall on Cyno, he’s fully awake.

Cyno seems fragile and especially small in the moonlight that’s filtering into their bedroom. He’s clearly exhausted, tired from days of pursuit and it makes him look delicate in a way Alhaitham isn’t quite used to.

“Welcome home,” he whispers out and readily scoots back in bed to make space for Cyno.

Cyno hesitates at the edge of the bed before he crawls in and Alhaitham fully expects him to bury into his chest.

What he gets instead is a Cyno who puts his back to Alhaitham and curls up small.

It takes Alhaitham’s breath away how little space he takes up in bed like this and it seems it takes him a moment too long because Cyno harshly breathes out.

“Would you come here already?” he demands, glaring over his shoulder. “You’re usually so quick to lord your height over me and now you can’t even do this?”

Not a good mission, then. Alhaitham makes a mental note to ask about it tomorrow. For now, he has other things to do.

“I’m here,” he promises and moves forward, until he can curl his entire body around Cyno’s smaller frame. It’s startling how tiny Cyno feels in his arms and how easily Alhaitham wraps around him like this. “I’m here,” he says again, this time accompanied by a soft kiss to Cyno’s head.

It’s enough to finally get Cyno to relax and he melts into Alhaitham’s bigger body.

He loves Cyno, always, but there is something especially soft in his chest when Cyno is like that in his arms; small and fragile and trusting Alhaitham to keep him safe.

#bt writes #haino #cytham #genshin impact #alhaitham #cyno #height differences #established relationship #fluff #soft

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wistfulweaverwoman · 2 years ago

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After planting the primroses, Peeta sets about giving his house a thorough cleaning. Having been shut up for almost a year, the dust is thick and there are cobwebs everywhere. He throws open all the windows to clear the stagnant air, smelling faintly of smoke.

Puffs of fresh spring flow in, disturbing the grey dust. It swirls up into great sooty clouds before dispersing in the air. Realizing the dust is mostly ash, Peeta rushes to the kitchen sink, gagging. He splashes off the sick and rinses his mouth. Squaring his shoulders, he retrieves the vacuum cleaner.

Once the house is in order Peeta showers, and then fixes himself a light lunch of crackers with peanut butter and canned peaches. While creating a grocery list, he mentally prepares for the walk to town.

Hearing the clop-clop of a horse, he looks out the window to see Thom half-carrying Katniss toward her door. Tensing, he fights the instinct to rush to her side and scoop her up in his arms.

She had looked feral this morning. Wild and beautiful and too thin. He was still trying to decipher her strange behavior and the multitude of expressions that had crossed her face when she saw him and the bushes he’d been planting. It had taken every ounce of self-control to remain casual while his body was screaming to shelter her fragile frame in his embrace.

Fist raised to knock, he hesitates, and instead turns the knob. Surprised at the cleanliness, he heads to the living room to find, as usual, Haymitch snoring on the couch. Using his boot, Peeta nudges the leg that’s dangling off the side. Haymitch lurches upright, swinging his knife wildly, until he’s able to focus on Peeta.

“You’re back,” says Haymitch. Rubbing his bloodshot eyes he slouches and reaches for a bottle.

“That’s what Katniss said,” says Peeta.

“Oh ho, you’ve seen her?” says Haymitch. “And she spoke to you?”

“I was planting flowers around her house and she came out. That’s all she said, before she went back inside, and started banging around upstairs. Then I heard the shower. Later she left with her bow, heading toward town.”

“Well, shit,” says Haymitch, eyebrows raised. “That girl has been sitting in one of them rocking chairs in the kitchen since we got back, barely speaking. Most days she doesn’t even realize someone else is there.”

“You were supposed to take care of her,” says Peeta, with an accusing tone. “She’s practically starving.”

“Trust me,” says Haymitch, “She’s filled out a bit since coming home. Sae cooks for her, well, us. Makes sure we eat.” Peeta looks over the old man, noting that he barely looks better than Katniss had that morning.

“When was the last time you showered and changed?” say Peeta.

“I don’t know, kid,” says Haymitch. “A week? A month? Well, well. So she left the house with her bow. Seems like sweetheart isn’t the only one who affects people.”

A year ago Peeta would have blushed at a comment like that, not really sure of the truth. Now, he understands the depth of their connection.

“I don't know how far she got,” says Peeta. “Thom had to bring her back in his cart. I just came by to see how you were and ask if you needed anything from town, but you seem to be set.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to a fresh loaf,” says Haymitch, taking a long pull on the white liquor. Peeta smiles while heading for the door.

Once outside, a lamenting wail emits from the house kitty-corner, and his heart clinches. He’s inside her house before he’s even decided to check on her. Approaching the formal living room cautiously, he hears the sobs slow to hiccups. Peering through the doorway he sees Katniss curled on the floor in a fetal position, shaking, and a sense of deja vu flairs.

Helplessly, he’d watched Katniss curled and shaking on the jungle floor, surrounded by jabberjays, unable to ease her torture. Just as he’d done before, he gathers her in his arms.

A streak of furry mustard darts past, hissing. He settles on the couch, rocking her, whispering soothing words, stroking her back until she slowly stops shaking. Soon her body relaxes into his chest.

Knowing that she’s sunk into a deep sleep by the cadence of her breath, Peeta carries her up to bed. This, too, seems familiar. He’d tucked her in and she’d asked him to stay. She’d taken his hand against her cheek, and he’d whispered back as she’d fallen victim to sleep syrup.

“Always,” Peeta mouths.

He smooths hair away from her crown, and lightly kisses her temple. Leaving the window open, to hear when she has a nightmare, he goes to the kitchen. After setting out a saucer of milk for Buttercup he walks toward town. On the road, he meets Greasy Sae on her way to Victor’s Village. She grins at him and thumps his shoulder.

“About time you’ve come back,” she says. Informing her of how he’d left Katniss, she cackles and her eyes twinkle, “So you’ve taken her to bed? About time you did that, too.” Blushing deeply, Peeta hurries away.

“Come for breakfast tomorrow,” calls Sae to his retreating back.

The rest is on AO3. It’s just a series of a few scenes the take place between cannon scenes.

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her-devils-advocate · 3 years ago

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I'll be the mess, you be the medicine

♥. Genre: angst and comfort

♥. pairings: Lucifer + Gn!Mc (can be read as platonic or romantic)

♥. content warnings: Descriptions of depression, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and mentions of insecurities.

♥. notes: Title is from Icon for Hire- Fix me! ~ This is a small vent fic so please keep in mind the warnings as it can get heavy.

♥. part 2: "Why don’t you fix me? I can’t help myself"

♥. Word count: 1320

Breathe in.

Breathe out..

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

The simple trick which you had held onto for your entire life no longer seems to work as the black void of the Devildom’s night dances around you, claiming you as its own as the emptiness in your chest begins to weigh you down. Guilt floods your system as you cry out into your pillow. How could you feel so alone in a house with 7 demons who never cease to shower you with praise and affection? Not to mention the others who would jump at the chance to spend time with you…Despite all that you feel miles away from them, rapidly falling further away with each passing second. The hands of the clock ticking loudly, the only sound within the room to accompany your cries.

Your breath catches in your throat, breathing becoming harder and harder with each passing second as the overwhelming yet familiar loneliness begins to suffocate you with its icy hands gripped firmly around your already fragile heart.

You consider going to one of the brothers, they were so close and you're pretty sure you can hear someone pottering around in the kitchen nearby. But then you would have to show them just how shattered you really are under the strong mask you put up for them. What would they think if they saw that their beloved human who helped mend their breaking relationships couldn’t even hold themselves together most nights?

Clutching the blanket around your aching shoulders, you prepare yourself for the long night ahead of you. Your body violently shakes no matter how much you try to control it or hold it still. You no longer feel like yourself, instead feeling like a puppet to the depression that is desperate to pull you under its rapid currents once more, slowly letting yourself sink further and further into the cruel lies floating around your head.

“They pity you.”

“They dislike you, they don’t really want you around.”

“You should just do them a favour and leave their lives…one way or another.”

“....Shut up…Please”

Tears fall down your frozen face as your body begins to move of its own accord, movements already becoming muscle memory as you reach towards the object resting upon your dresser, its reflective silver surface glittering in the pale moonlight which breaks through the gap in the curtains. You have been here before many times, enough times to know how it ends, relief and shame being close companions, holding you tightly as you come down from that familiar yet horrid high most nights that it came to this.

But you really didn’t wish for this to keep happening, silently hoping for one of the brothers to barge into the room and catch you before you could let yourself fall back into that pattern of self-destruction.

Never wanting to willingly open up about it yet wanting it to end was a vicious cycle that left you spinning through it each night it hit and with each passing night, it began to hit harder and harder until you were left exhausted with no energy to function the next day. Your grades were probably dropping but besides the sinking feeling in your stomach each time you imagined Lucifer’s disappointment in you, you couldn’t find the strength to care.

Not wanting to spend one more moment within the suffocating room where the whispers of old and new insecurities are doing their best to try and force your hand, you throw the metallic object to some unknown part of your room and sprint for the door, no longer giving a damn about what people might think if they saw you in such a frenzied state.

You run through the House of Lamentation; shadows intertwining around one another, stretching out to you from the corner of your eyes to meet your panicked form as you rush past them, knowing that you would finally soon be safe from yourself, wrapped in strong and comforting arms. Your sudden midnight run comes to a halt as you peer up at the door to Lucifer’s bedroom, nothing but the void leaking out from under the door frame.

“He must be asleep. Of course he would be, it's already almost 5 am on a Saturday…” Your quiet muttering was the only thing which could be heard within the corridor as you consider your choices. You didn’t want to have to wake up the eldest brother just for some comfort…What would he think of you if you dared?

You had been doing fine for all the years you had struggled alone…Hadn’t you?

“How fine am I really…?”

Gently brushing the healed remains of the angry red lines which you had inflicted upon yourself only a few nights ago, you come to the heartbreaking realisation that should have been obvious if only it wasn’t for the stubborn denial that fueled you most days until the night brought it crashing down, “I’m not fine.”

More of the horrible thoughts and anxiety begin to flood your mind, catching you in its agonising game of ping-pong until candle light snaps you back to reality. Ah yes…you were still outside his room.

“Mc, is everything alright? What are you doing right outside my room at this hour?” His calm voice soothing your mind for just a moment.

“Can I stay with you tonight please? I don’t think I can be alone.”

His black eyes widen a fraction as he processes your words carefully before he moves aside, granting you access to his room. The fireplace’s gentle crackles distracts you for a moment as he takes in your appearance, frowning slightly.

After carefully considering his words, Lucifer turns to face you. His face is passive but you know him well enough by now to see the hint of concern which he fails to banish from his eyes when it involves you. The concern that burns at your heart without reason. You should be happy to see proof that someone cares…so why does it hurt? Trying to ignore the doubt that follows you around without ceasing, you hear him gently clear his throat, instantly grabbing your attention as your head snaps to meet him.

“Mc, will you tell me why you don’t believe you can be left alone right now.” Lucifer leads you towards his bed, still perfectly neat from the morning, hinting that the oldest demon within the house had yet to sleep despite the hour. His bare hands, gloves long forgotten, firmly grasps yours as you sit on the edge of the plush mattress.

With a watery smile, you do your best to hide the sorrow in your voice,

“It’s…just one of those nights, but there's no need to worry, Lucifer. I was…I was afraid that I might do something that I would regret later…y’know?”

You hear a sharp inhale to your left, not wanting to risk a glance at his face out of fear of what would greet you, you continue.

“Can we discuss this in the morning? Please? I promise I will explain everything, I just…I just want…I just need some rest right now. My head is spinning and I wouldn’t be able to explain in this state.”

“Fine, but we are discussing this first thing after dinner tomorrow, understand? Now come, lay down and get comfortable. You are safe now.”

He slowly gets comfortable within his bed, holding open the covers so that you could perfectly fit beside him. The warmth of his body comforting you as he holds you tight to his firm chest. Feeling secure for the first time in the night, you know that this won’t magically fix everything and that you will continue to fight, but in the arms of pride himself, you are proud of yourself for taking the first step to getting better. Knowing he will be by your side for each step of the way.

#♥. writing #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me luci x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me fic #obey me angst #obey me one master to rule them all

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fanmoose12 · 2 years ago

Note

Addition to the previous ask. What if Armins is confused on why Hanji has become sick in the mornings and could not come to early briefings. Historia hearing what happened to Hanji immediately knows what is wrong and tells Armin which sets up the whole, Hanji is pregnant? Who is the father?

The 104th kids finding out about Hanji being pregnant and confronts her is she's alrighr and if she needs anything. Hanji is surprised but thinks she could be pregnant based on her symptons. When asked how she could be so calm about this, she tells them that's just normal for married people.

Hence, another confused shouts of her being married. Hanji trying to calm them down. Levi somewhere in the city trying to buy tea leaves when he feels a chill down his spine.

It is only morning but the weather is warm already and the outside world seems so blissfully sunny that it is almost criminal, at least in Armin's opinion, to have him spend it inside his small and stuffy office in the capital.

He'd rather spend it in their apple orchard, getting drunk on the aroma of peonies and Annie's sweet perfume. She's still by his side, so soft and pliant, snoring so adorably into his chest. Armin smiles, as he pushes one blonde lock away from her face. He allows himself nothing more - his usually serene Annie can become a beast, if her sleep is disturbed, and gets off their bed.

Immediately, she snuggles into the pillow that still holds his warmth, and once again Armin laments that he has to leave. Definitely a crime, he decides when he exits the bedroom; he'd have to speak with Historia about it, maybe implement some sort of punishment. Working on such a fine day is definitely an offence worthy the worst kind of penalties.

But someone is coming to the capital, for the first time after being away for almost a year, someone hardworking and brilliant, and being absent from his dear fiance for a few hours is definitely a price Armin would pay to receive a chance to converse with Hange Zoe again.

The thrilling prospect gives him enough motivation to brush his teeth, take a shower and get dressed in his best suit - blue in color, since Annie insists that it brings out his eyes. He's in the process of brushing his hair, when she herself emerges from the bedroom: wrapped in a blanket and still blinking sleepily.

"Good luck," she mumbles, before pecking him on a cheek. "You'll do great but- wipe that creepy grin from your lips."

Armin checks himself in the wardrobe mirror - his smile is actually a bit too wide, but Hange is coming to town! He simply can't help it! For Annie, though, he tries his best to dim his expression. "Better?" he asks, placing a hat on his head.

Annie fixes it, with a critical look on her face. "A little. Keep it in mind, though. Oh, and-" she straightens his lapels - "don't forget about cinnamon rolls. You know, the ones from the bakery near Queen's residency."

Armin makes a mental note about that, Annie absolutely adores her cinnamon rolls and her face - covered in powder and with a blissful smile on her lips - is absolutely the sight he would die for.

"I'll be home by six," he promises and then kisses her on the lips - her morning breath be damned. "Say hi to Pieck if you see her."

Then he is gone, a briefcase clasped securely in his hand, excited spark lightening up in his eyes. Hange Zoe comes back to town - and Armin rushes to her, like a schoolboy runs to his favorite teacher.

---

When Armin arrives, he's almost late; at least - compared to the others. Jean, Connie and Sasha are already waiting near the entrance to Historia's quarters, leaning against the concrete wall. Jean holds a cigarette in between his fingers, puffing it slowly. Armin doesn't approve - the smell is atrocious and it looks like Jean doesn't even enjoy the process, just indulges in the vice to keep up with an appearance of a cool guy, but Armin doesn't scold him either; Jean puts out the cigarette as soon as Armin is in his vicinity, and, in the end, it's his own life and health.

"So?" Armin nods at his friends; barely contains his excitement. "Is she here?"

"Has been since early morning, or so the guards tell me," Jean says.

Sasha claps her hands together, all but jumping with happiness. "Let's hurry then! Oh, I can't wait to see Hange-san! It's been so long."

Connie seems just as thrilled. "Do you think we'll see Captain Levi as well? I mean there are no barracks for us to clean so seeing him..."

"Will be a pleasure," Armin agrees, waits for Jean to throw the cigarette butt away, then lets his friends go inside the building first. "We need to go on the second floor. Fourth door on the left."

Sasha turns to gawk at him, now walking backwards. "They let Hange-san have her own office?"

Armin shrugs good-heartedly. "She used to be a Commander of Survey Corps. And, technically, she's the one who brought Marley and Paradise to work as one. That, at the very least, warrants a separate office."

"I'm actually surprised she got out of it," Connie chuckles. "I always thought that our Hange-san will quit working only in case of death."

"She still works, I heard," Sasha scratches her chin. "Something- um, something related to the maurine fauna?"

"That, or microscopic creatures? Something that excites her anyway," Jean says, and Armin makes sure to commit that piece of information to memory - everything Hange studies is worth his attention. Then Jean adds, "by the way does someone know - Captain still lives with her?"

Connie hastens to get in front of the group on the stairs, and says, "I'm pretty sure he still does. I mean-" he rubs at the back of his neck - "someone has to look after him, right?"

"Just don't mention it in front of him, dummy," Sasha chastises, slapping Connie on a forearm. "But I've heard about it too - Captain Levi does share the house with Hange. They're like Connie and I!" she brings him in for a quick hug, despite his abundant protests. "Together till the grave!"

Jean raises a sceptic eyebrow. "And what about Niccolo?"

Sasha huffs - so indignant, as though a mere doubt hurts her to the core. "Niccolo is my heart!" she declares proudly. "And my stomach- maybe. But Connie!" she smooches his shaved head. "Oh, he's my soul!"

"Maybe," Armin tries, all too quiet in comparison to his companions. "Captain Levi is all that for Hange-san?"

The trio laughs at him - almost in unison. After a second, Armin chuckles too, joining on their fun. Captain Levi and Hange-san? Together? What could be more ludicrous?

---

They wait until Historia and Mikasa arrive on a balcony on the second floor. Sasha and Connie had just started a surprisingly competitive game of tug and chase, almost pulling Jean in it, when Mikasa shows up.

Jean immediate straightens, like a soldier on a parade, and puts on the most bored yet handsome face Armin has ever seen. He has to give him credit for that, and - maybe - also ask for some advices later. Or give some himself, because surely, if he ever tried something like that on Annie, she'd be chuckling about it even on his deathbed.

Mikasa smiles too, just briefly, and when the Queen, at last, makes her entrance, shockingly - without her baby, she leads them to the door of Hange's office, knocking on it decisively.

The muffled 'come in!' sounds instantly, and Armin has but a second to pull himself together and remember - wipe that creepy grin - before he tumbles inside, propelled forward by impatient Sasha, and finds himself in tight clutches that he quickly identifies as Hange Zoe's famous suffocating hug.

"My dears!" she all but gushes. "Come here, come here. I missed you all so, so much."

Armin did too, as he is sure did all of his friends. The island's been too quiet without Hange's shrill voice.

"If you missed them so," comes a deep and gruff voice that Armin too recognizes instantly, despite not hearing it for almost a year. "You should have come back much sooner."

"Levi," Hange huffs, stops her smothering of Connie to admonish him a tired look. "You know that my work is important."

"More important than people who care about you? Or your own health?"

This feels like an argument that's been steering for too long, and discussed almost daily. Armin nearly bursts into laughter as he looks over Sasha's head and meets Mikasa's eyes.

"Some things never change, eh?" Jean remarks dryly, and now all of them - except Captain, of course - break into giggles. But even he shows a smile - small and quick to disappear, but Armin's keen eyes pick up on it all the same.

"It's good to see you," Levi says, as he rolls his wheelchair forward and shakes everyone's hands. "Although, you all are so big I don't think I can even call you brats anymore."

"Aw, you absolutely can!" Sasha assures him with a wide smile. "By now, it's actually endearing."

Levi shares a look with Hange then, as though telling her, "Look what weirdos we raised up," and Armin is hit by a huge wave of- of something - of affection, nostalgia and gratitude that it was those two exceptional people that helped him become the man who he is today.

"How have you been?" Historia asks, dragging Jean, Sasha and Connie to take a seat at the sofa in the corner of the office. Armin and Mikasa occupy the two chairs that stand by Hange's desk.

"Oh, you know," Captain makes a vague gesture. "It's almost the same - I look after the house, make sure that this weirdo over here," he jerks his thumb at Hange, and she makes a face at him in retaliation. Armin hides a smile. "Doesn't die from something stupid and easily avoidable. Although, I do have to say that cleaning time has reduced severely, now that I only have to clean our shit."

"Just you two in the house then?" Mikasa asks, and it doesn't escape Armin - that look she shares with Sasha.

"Just the two of us," Hange replies, with a sigh - almost dreamy? Content? Armin catalogues it for later. "But now that we came back-"

"The boring ones stay with four-eyes. And everyone else is invited to have a tea with me and catch up."

"I'm not boring. I'm fascinating." Hange turns to Armin, her gaze adopting a puppy-eyed look. "Am I not right?"

"You're right, as always," he answers truthfully, and Hange absolutely beams. She sticks her tongue at Levi, and he sighs warily, but relents quickly and pats her head affectionately.

And that- that familiarity, that flawless back-and-forth, easy banter and certain knowledge of each other's boundaries - Armin knows it. He and Annie have all of it, but- but, Annie and he are together, romantically involved. They are so far away from Hange and Levi are. Maybe, it's years and years of knowing each other then, that makes their relationship appear so comfortable.

After all, they've always been the same way. It's only Armin's new perspective that now shines a different light on it all.

It's their Hange-san and Captain Levi, in the end. Them being in love? What could be more ludicrous?

---

He and Jean are the only one who stay behind with Hange, everyone else has moved to the Queen's living room, but Hange-san- doesn't seem to be insulted by it in the slightest. On the contrary, her eye shines brightly, as she shares with Armin and Jean her latest discoveries.

And it's- invigorating, she pulls them into her orbit so swiftly Armin barely notices it. She's brilliant - in every way, one of the few people who can interest him and not only keep up with him in a conversation, but actually pose a challenge to his intellect.

But it's all too soon, unfortunately, that the others come back. Armin is nearly devastated that their conversation was cut off too short. And his surprise is enormous, when he learns that they've been talking for almost two hours.

"There," Captain Levi is by Hange's side in an instant, eerily quiet despite his wheelchair. He puts a cup of tea before her, and pushes it closer insistently. "Your throat must be dry like sand, from all that talking."

And that tiny moment - Armin knows it too; Annie always brings him coffee and cookies, when he has to deal with paperwork for too long. What does it mean, he thinks, that his relationship with Annie resembles that between his ex-superiors so much?

Hange thanks Levi with a small tap on his shoulder and quiet smile, grateful but not surprised in the slightest, like that same scene between them had replayed a dozen of times before.

It had, now Armin he remembers it swiftly: the many-many nights he had spent in the office of Commander Hange and Captain Levi, who despite his own numerous duties, had always found the time to ensure that their brave leader remained sated and healthy. And even now it doesn't seem to change, even though duty doesn't bound them anymore.

This loyalty- is inspiring, if nothing more. And begs for a few questions.

Is it - just friendship and loyalty? Or is there something bigger that they up until now has been oblivious to?

"Forgive me, my dears," Hange's gentle voice cuts through his convoluting thoughts. "I would love nothing more than to stay and chat with all of you for a little longer, but there are others who, I'm sure, have missing us even more. And though I'm quite positive they are in no hurry," her smiles wobbles, ever so slightly, and Captain presses a finger to her forearm, offering his silent support. "I'm as eager as ever to talk to them."

"She'd bore Berner to the second death with her lectures," Levi snorts, and his joke, as deadpan as it is, lifts the mood in the room once again.

"You have my full permission," Hange huffs lightheadedly, "to request the kids' help and drag me back home."

"Don't think I won't do it, four-eyes," Captain warns, and Hange laughs, as she stands up.

And Armin notices instantly - something's not right. Or, more precisely, something is not the way it used to be. Before Hange stood with her back straight, and only in moments of deep concentration or awful exhaustion could she allow herself to relax her posture and put a hand on her hip.

Now, though, she stands with a hand on her side, prepping up her back, and her stance- is not exhausted, not exactly, but it's not utterly relaxed either. Hange carries herself strangely, as though her own body has grown unfamiliar to her.

As though she is dragged down by a weight that wasn't there before.

Armin knows, he's not seeing things, everyone noticed it too and now all of them wear the almost identical lost expressions. Silence over the rooms, drags on forward, wedges on a side of being uncomfortable, almost tense, but-

The day is saved flawlessly, by their amazing Queen.

"Don't forget to come over for tea," Historia says, and Armin blinks, shifting his intense (creepy, Annie's voice chides in his head) gaze from Hange's stomach. "The little one can't eager to meet you."

"Oh, we won't be strangers, don't worry," Hange puts on her hat, then helps Levi with his. Armin watches it keenly, something akin to revelation brewing inside him. "Armin, Jean and I yet have much to discuss, and I'm sure-" she giggles, patting Levi's shoulder. "Our shorty will undoubtedly find some errand for the others to run with him."

"We'll be honoured," Jean slightly bowes, and Hange smiles at him one last time, before helping Levi with making their exit.

A bit of silence follows, before Connie asks, as unsure as Armin himself feels, "So Hange-san... she's eating well?"

"Connie!" Sasha shrieks and slaps him on the arm. "You can't say things like that!"

"But he's right," Mikasa says quietly. "Hange-san does seem..." she falters, not quite finding the suited word.

"A bit chubbier?" Jean comes to the rescue, wincing as he does so. "Plumpier?"

"She must be eating something real tasty..." Sasha whispers, her eyes lightening up almost fervently.

And he's the one with a creepy smile, Armin shakes his head. At imaginary Annie in his head and at his friends too. They're wrong, Armin thinks, Hange got more round, that's true. But that's not the core of the problem, that's not what has changed. Then what exactly has changed?

"You dimwits," Historia chides softly. Her eyes twinkle brightly, like she knows something they don't. Perhaps, she truly does. Armin waits with a baited breath. "Hange-san isn't fat. She is pregnant."

Again, the silence follows. But this one is broken by Connie's loud yell.

"What!"

And accompanied by Jean's disbelieving. "Hange-san? It can't be!"

"No, no," Sasha shakes her head. "Historia might just be right. I remember when mom was pregnant with my little bro. She looked a lot like Hange-san does now, at least, in the beginning. Oh no," she draws a hand across her face, takes a deep breath, "she really is pregnant. We are going to have a little brother."

"Or a sister," Jean objects.

"Or maybe both!" Connie finishes merrily.

They all share a smile that diminish, when Mikasa, innocently sipping on her tea, asks, "Who do you think is the father?"

Jean chokes on his own tea, and Armin too is shocked to the core by that seemingly logical question. Of course, if Hange-san is pregnant, then someone else must be involved in the process. It is perfectly logical, natural. But somehow just thinking about it gives Armin a whiplash.

"So..." Connie drums his fingers against the table. "Drinks at our place?"

They all nod eagerly.

---

Opinions were passed around the table, along with the alcohol.

"Maybe, it's Onyankopon?" Historia offers, thanking Connie for pouring her a glass of sweet wine. "They used to be pretty close..."

"Wouldn't he come with her to the island then?" Jean reasons. "Onyankopon seems like a good man, and a good man would never do that. If I ever got someone pregnant," he declares, and even tipsy, Armin doesn't miss the look of longing Jean sends Mikasa's way. "I wouldn't abandon them even for a second."

He makes sense, ruining Historia's theory, and they all drink to that, each staring into their glass.

"Then..." Sasha tries. "Hange-san met someone during her travels?"

"Why didn't she introduced them to us?" Mikasa questions. "Besides," she softly chuckles, playing with a rim of her glass. "I think Captain would have had that someone else's head, if they treated Hange-san so negligently."

Armin takes another sip of wine as he mulls over it. Would their Captain, who is famous for looking after oftentimes careless scientist, really let someone get so close to her? Armin tries to imagine it, along with a scene of Captain giving that someone the good old 'if you ever hurt her' speech. He is not a proud man, and he admits readily that if he were that someone, he'd probably shit his pants. As Captain would have called it.

But if it's not someone new...

"I've got it!" Connie yells out suddenly, slamming a palm on the table and startling everyone around it. "It's Flegel!"

"Flegel?" everyone mouths the name in confusion, and only Historia seems to know the man behind that name. She makes a face at the mere mention, a quiet whine slipping from her lips.

They all - almost simultaneously - turn to look at her.

"He's a son of that bastard Reeves," she says, and both her and Armin take a gulp of wine, washing down unwanted memories. "He's a nicer man than his father, though. And I know he's very fond of Hange-san, but ugh..." she shakes her head. "He's such a bother! Comes to my office almost daily, requesting permission for this and that."

"He's- fond of Hange-san?" Sasha asks, the rest of Historia's words flying right through her. "He is the father then! Hange-san must come to the island to reunite with him."

Armin has a dozen - or even more - arguments against this particular claim, but all of them are just on the verge of being past tipsy, so when Connie proposes to go and talk with that Flegel, no one finds the words to protest.

---

The evening already rolls around, the setting sun throwing red beams on the walls, when they finally reach Flegel's home in the capital. It is not just a house, though, Armin notes. It looks more like a mansion, and that observation- gives him a pause.

He can imagine a child playing in that pretty garden they pass through on their way to the front door quite clearly, he can even see Hange-san, elbow deep in the soil, getting out only to write down some notes. But he cannot, for the love of him, picture Hange-san and her baby - almost identical ball of energy - existing in this giant house that is as grand as it is soulless.

The little cabin he knows Hange shares with Captain Levi seems so much like her. Does she really love that Flegel then?

The light in the house is on, when their group approaches, and Sasha quickly glances over at Connie, before she knocks on a door.

The man opens it after a moment, smiling expectantly. A butler, Armin guesses, although this one is dressed far more casually than the one that works for Historia.

"How can I help you?" the man asks. His eyes scan their group, until finally- they find its target. His smile grows tenfold, as he cries out, "Your Majesty! It is such an honor!"

He opens the door wider, letting them pass, and frets over Historia's outwear and her drink of choice, before he darts away, calling out Flegel's name.

They all hold their breathes, waiting for Flegel to emerge and hoping - that he'd do so with Hange by his side.

When Flegel comes out to greet them, he really isn't alone. A hand is wrapped around his waist, but it's not Hange's, it's- the butler's that actually isn't a butler.

Some sigh, some shake their heads, disappointed, Connie actually curses out loud, and Flegel watches them with growing confusion, stuttering out a quiet, "M-my Queen?"

"Forgive us for interrupting your evening," Historia recovers swiftly and smiles, the literal picture of grace. "But I've been just telling my friends about your wonderful wine..."

"Not another word!" Flegel raises a finger. "I don't have much at my place, but the best bottle yet is in my cellar, I'll have it brought to you in just a moment."

He turns to his servant, barking orders, and im meanwhile Historia shrugs and looks at her friends.

"At least, we got more wine," she mouths.

It is a disappointingly small conciliation, but- good wine is hard to come by. Hopefully, it'll be just sweet enough to wash away the bitter taste of their disappointment.

---

The bottle of Flegel Reeves' best wine expends fairly quickly, on a bench near the oak tree. Connie is just finishing the last drop, when he starts swinging the bottle around, and yells out, "That Flegel! Old bastard! Jean, me and you," he pulls Jean in by his shoulder, and hard as he tries to resist his friend, Jean simply is not strong enough to do so. "We should have beaten him up, for our Hange-san! How dares he-"

"Connie, Connie," Sasha shushes him, and carefully takes the bottle away, passing it onto Mikasa. "You realize that Flegel isn't the father? He isn't cheating on Hange-san."

"Oh..." Connie's eyes round up. All his anger melts instantly. He tilts his head, looking up at Sasha. "He's not?"

"No, you blabbering idiot," Jean smacks him on the head, now finally having strength to pull away. "We're back to square one, with no clue who is the father."

"Maybe, we can just ask?" Mikasa says simply. Everyone gawks at her - despite the simplicity of her solution. To add to their flabbergasted state, she adds, "Actually, I'm pretty sure that Hange-san will tell us everything herself."

Mikasa is a genius, Armin decides, and all of them are bunch of idiots. What mystery are they even trying to solve, if in due time, it all will come out anyway?

"You are our guiding light," he whispers to her, presses a kiss to her hand, and, while Mikasa is blushing prettily, Jean is getting lost in watching it, and Historia is bickering with Sasha and Connie, he leaves their ranks, to head to the bakery that is just a street away.

He might come home late, terribly drunk and embarrassing, but at least, he'll come home with the cinnamon rolls his fiance had asked him for.

He tries to be swift as possible about it, not wanting to leave his friends alone for too long, but by the time he comes back, he finds them all back on their feet, moving away from that bench they were sitting with clear intent in their stride.

Hugging the package from bakery to his chest tightly, Armin catches up with them, and at his question that comes out, accompanied by a heavy pant, Connie answers, "Historia got us a hefty discount. We're going to the best restaurant in whole Sina!"

"Hey!" Sasha kicks him, and Connie quickly corrects himself, "Best restaurant in whole Sina, after Niccolo's, of course."

Armin hums, and follows after them contently. Of course, he'd be just - if not more - content to go home to his Annie, but it's so rare when all of them gather together like this, and even rarer when the cause for it is something so lighthearted.

The restaurant is packed, naturally, but after just one smile from Historia, the stuff find them a table and swear to bring their orders in almost no time.

Armin twiddles his thumbs, half-heartedly participating in a conversation with Jean and Historia, and looks around the room. The guests here are dressed so much better than him that he almost feels embarressed. One couple, however, stands out of the crowd, their fashion actually very similar to Armin. He squints his eyes, trying to get a better a look at them, when-

"Guys!" Connie outpaces him, attracting everyone's attention. He motions them to get closer, his voice hushed and excited, as he says, "It's them! It's Hange-san and Captain Levi! They're here!"

Instantly, all of them turn their heads in that direction, and become witnesses to Hange feeding Levi her soup. The mere act of their stoic Captain having someone to spoon-feed him is startling enough, but then, as if previous deed wasn't enough, a small drip of soup trickles down his face, and Hange-san, with no hesitation at all, licks it away and then presses a kiss to the same place.

Their table is engulfed in silence, as they stare at the scene, eyes getting rounder and rounder, because Levi - their Captain Levi, who made them clean toilets if he noticed a single speck of dirt on the floor - doesn't slap Hange's hands away, doesn't hiss and curse, barely chastices her. And then they carry on, with whatever conversation they were having. As if nothing have happened.

"My god..." Sasha mumbles, barely above a whisper. "So Captain and Hange-san- are they together? He is the father?"

"Looks like we're getting an actual sibling," Connie jokes, but no one laughs, too shocked to do so.

Armin is bewildered himself. It makes sense, he supposes, they live together, after all, they've been by each other's side even before he got to know them, but somehow this simple truth... appears too fantastical to be true.

Hange-san and Captain Levi, they were together for so long that the fact that they are, in fact, together sends them all in turmoil. But it's quite logical, on the other hand. They were just too blind to see.

"Should we let them know that we know?" Historia asks, leaning over the table. "Congratulate them or something?"

"No need," they all jump in their seats, when that voice appears. How can he remain so quiet, even on a wheelchair will be forever a mystery to Armin. "You brats are just as loud as you always were."

"But they've grown more observed," Hange says, and when Jean notices that she too has approached, he scooches over to let her sit down. She does, with a heavy sigh. "We were going to tell you tomorrow," she says, her hand quickly, seemingly without her even realizing it, wrapping around Levi's. Another hand falls on her stomach. "But I'm glad you've figured it out yourselves."

"Saves us the trouble," Levi grumbles.

"And makes me proud for raising you that way," Hange adds, smiling softly.

"So..." Historia begins cautiously, but practically brimming with excitement. "When is the wedding?"

"The wedding?" Hange and Levi share a look. Both seem utterly confused at the question. "We don't need it."

"But it's the wedding!" Sasha urges on, even though the rest hang their hands in disappoinment. "Surely you need it - to celebrate you, get rings and..."

"Oi," Levi raises a hand, halting her. "We said we don't need it."

"What's the point in a second wedding anyway?" Hange laughs, and everyone's jaws touch the ground.

"What!" Sasha all but shrieks. "What do you mean a second wedding? Was there a first one?"

"Naturally," Hange nods. "A long time ago, of course..." she tugs on Levi's hand. "When we had done it?"

"Just after Maria fell."

"Oh, right, I almost forgot," she shakes her head, minutively tilting it to give Levi a wistful smile. "Too much tragedies for our lives, I'm afraid."

While two adults bask in their affection, Armin drags his gaze away from the scene and stares at his friends in confusion. Captain Levi and Hange-san are married, have been way before they even joined Survey Corps? How is that possible? How did they not notice, not a single sign of it?

"And you've said they're sharp," Levi tuts, noticing their long faces. "We'd be shitty soldiers," he explains to them, "if we shouted about our feelings."

"And it became even more complicated when I was outranking Levi... Reputation and all that, kids," Hange chuckles. "Really important, even in the army."

"So you two..." Armin stummers, in disbelief. "All this time?"

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it all out." Hange says. "We weren't exactly subtle."

But all of them were too blind to see. Now that he knows the whole truth, though, certain moments take different shapes.

"Well, it's been fun," Levi announces, as he pulls on Hange's hand. "But as all of you now know, someone needs to rest a lot."

"Yeah, we'll be going," Hange agrees, standing up to wrap her hands around the handles of Levi's wheelchair. Jean jumps up to offer his help, but instantly, Hange waves him off. "Go and have fun, my dear, I'll take him home just fine. I mean-" she laughs, and the sound is so merry that everyone joins in. "What kind of a person can't take her husband home? Have a good evening. And," she fixes Armin with a look, "Hangover or not, I expect you in my office next morning."

"Yes!" Armin cries out, forgetting himself for a moment and almost giving Hange a salute. But then he remembers something else, a moment from a long time ago, and gathers the courage to ask aboit it, before Hange exits the room. "Oh, and by the way, Hange-san? Remember that time when a table broke in your office. Was that-"

"Oh yeah!" she throws her head back, laughter carrying all over the restaurant. "Levi fucked me real good then."

They leave without saying another word, but Armin and his friends stay, digesting the information. They first stare dumbly at the table, then look up to look each other in the eyes.

It is Jean who breaks the tense silence.

"Another bottle?"

"Oh god, yes," comes an instant reply.

#levihan

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moemammon · 4 years ago

Text

You are not Beyoncé but you're singing your heart out when you think you're home alone.

(Featuring the demon brothers and GN!MC)

For once, you had the house to yourself! Was this a miracle?? Were the heavens finally smiling down on you from above? Was this the result of all your good karma??? Whatever it was, you were almost certain that you were alone for once.

And what did that mean? Time for a good ol' fashion jam session. You put on your favorite tunes and set them to blast through the speaker of your D.D.D. while you danced around the house, singing your heart out. Who cared if some of your notes were flat, or if you had to drop a few pitches to hit those high notes?

Not you. You were just living your best life without a care in the world.

Until...

Lucifer

Of course the eldest would be around. Arguably the most mysterious and omnipotent brother in the house, so yeah. He's there.

He told you this morning that he’d have a meeting to attend after classes today. You thought he’d be out for a long while, but it just so happened that the meeting ended early today, much to his relief.

Not to yours though, because that means that Lucifer has front row seats to your amazing concert without your permission.

He didn't even have the courtesy to make himself known! He just waited in the kitchen, quietly preparing his coffee while your singing echoed through the halls.

You were sauntering your way to the kitchen as well, fumbling over forgotten lyrics without a care in the world, when you saw him.

Enemy spotted.

Does this mean he heard every single time your voice cracked-

Your eyes lock and Lucifer doesn't even mention what you were just doing, despite the obviously being within earshot of you.

You really start feeling the heat rising in your cheeks when he says "You seem to be in a good mood. Did something good happen to you at RAD today?"

Regardless of how you respond (or not), Lucifer turns his back to you to tidy up, and says "....I don't believe I've ever heard your singing before. You'll have to give me an encore in my office some time."

You swear you can hear the mischief in his tone....

Mammon

This seriously was unheard of. An afternoon without having mammon glued to your hip?? Hell must've frozen over or something.

Regardless, you weren't going to take this for granted! Mammon did mention something about a 'foolproof money making scheme' he had a dream about last night, so he was probably off trying to see if he could make it a reality.

Things like this usually took a huge chunk of greedy boy's afternoon, so you figured you were safe to sing as you pleased!

Besides, he probably would've texted you if he were on the way home, right?

Apparently not, because Mammon was very much home, and did not send you a text. Honestly? He forgot to. He was too busy wallowing in self pity.

How was he supposed to know that using magic to duplicate grim was illegal??

He managed to escape any real trouble and made his way back home, only to have his ears immediately blessed (or assaulted) by your singing.

He's not the type to sit around in secret until you notice him, so catch this boy marching around the house until he finds you himself. Not so quietly calling out your name the entire time, too.

Mammon caught you in the empty library singing your heart out. The acoustics were great in there! They also kinda drowned out the outside noise, so you couldn't really hear him yelling for you.

"Oh, I thought you were screamin' about a bug or something. What song is that?"

He's not shy about singing in the shower at the top of his lungs, so it's not like he's judging you?? But he's got his phone out when you spot him. The bastard is recording you...

So your knee jerk reaction is to attack

"Wh- Oi!! What're ya hitting me for?! I don't care if it's just a pillow- Hey!"

He has chosen death. Goodbye Mammon.

Leviathan

It was kind of bold of you to assume that Levi would ever be out of the house, but he DID mention something about a concert he wanted to attend..? Or some kind of book signing?

You don't really remember, and you don't have the mental strength to scroll through the sea of spam texts he's sent you today.

C'est la vie.

Since you're pretty sure you're alone, you're not taking your solo concert all around the house of lamentation, from the foyer to the west wing, up to the attic and down to the dining room.

Gotta find the perfect spot to sing this next part. It's got a really good bit with a flute, and you wanna stare longingly out of a window or something-

And it's when you pass by otaku man's room that he decides to make himself known by poking his head out. His headset is around his neck and his hair's a little tousled, hinting that he was in the middle of gaming.

You freeze. Neither of you can look the other in the eye.

It takes a while before the silence can be broken, but before you can say a word, Levi speaks.

"Y-You know... you should come to karaoke with me! Only if you want to, I mean! I didn't know you were a fan of singing, so... but you probably have other plans, right? You don't want to hang out with a gross otaku like me blah blah blah-"

You aren't sure if your brain is malfunctioning from being caught in the act, or from the word vomit spilling from everyone's favorite weeb.

Satan

Satan is a good, studious boy so you assumed he was staying after class to head to the library. He was lagging behind, so you didn't question it.

Or maybe he was planning his next prank? Lucifer did have to make an announcement tomorrow morning in front of the student body, and Satan had been awfully interested in glitter bombs lately...

Whatever the case, he wasn't home right now! Or so you thought.

You were busy switching between two different choruses AND a sick guitar riff all in one song, so there was no time to be thinking about the demon's whereabouts.

You did wonder where you left your bag at, though. You vaguely recalled dumping it at the front door, so maybe that's where it was?

Scooting your way down the hall like a music powered locomotive, you were right in the middle of imitating the sound of drums when you spotted the trembling grin plastered to Satan's face.

Hm.

Maybe you could ask Diavolo about sending you back to the human world right now.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were here, or I would've said something." Satan tells you, clearing his throat to further suppress his laughter. From the way his shoulders are shaking, he was barely holding on.

"I didn't think you were the type to like songs like that. Do you have a playlist you could recommend me? I'm interested after seeing how much you enjoy it."

That cheeky grin of his never breaks for a second, so you can't tell if he's actually asking for recommendations, or if he's watching for your reaction.

Asmo

Not a surprise that you assumed he wasn't home, since he rarely is. He's always out partying or shopping around, so you usually don't see him much around this time.

But that also means you're free to sing as loudly as you want! Look out Mariah Carey, there's a new high note singer in town.

Asmo can vouch for that! Because he can hear you. Clearly.

Okay but he's one of those people that joins in while you're singing.

Legit the moment he goes inside and recognizes your song, he's trying to serenade you from the other side of the house.

And boy do you hear him. This man can SING (as expected of a fallen angel), and he likes to sing loudly. He wants all eyes on him after all!

And maybe you'll be so smitten by his angelic voice that you'll come running into his arms and beg that he takes you right then and there!

Wishful thinking though, because that is not how you reacted. Boo...

He finds you, and wants to know what you think of his voice. "Well? My singing was beautiful, wasn't it~? I used to sing all the time up in the celestial realm! I don't mind giving you some private lessons back in my room~"

Was he implying that you needed lessons? Maybe... but he's a sweetheart about it so can you really be mad at him?

Beel

A crepe cart recently opened up for a limited time, and there was no way Beel was going to miss that. And knowing him, he wouldn't come home until there were no traces of food left in sight.

So you figured you'd have plenty of time to brush up on your sea shanties! Bold of you to assume...

Beel can inhale a billion times his weight in food in like, five minutes. What made you think he wouldn't be back home by now?

He was full for a good ten minutes (a new record!) and spent that time in his bedroom, hence why you didn't hear his usual rummaging through the kitchen for food.

Speaking of food, you were feeling kind of hungry yourself! And a little parched from all the singing, so a snack break couldn't hurt!

You slid on your socks along the hardwood floor all the way to the kitchen... where you nearly slammed into Beel. There he was, the mad lad himself.

He was also on the way to the kitchen. Surprise surprise, right? And he managed to catch you by the shoulders before you could slide into anything.

Beel is the least phased by your singing. He just thinks it's nice that you were comfortable enough to sing so loudly! Good to see that you're enjoying yourself.

He doesn't exactly address it? Instead he moves his hand forward to place something into yours.

It's a crepe that he saved, just for you! You stare at the delicate pastry, all topped with layers of fluffy whipped cream, strawberries and blueberries, and lovingly drizzled with chocolate sauce! There's a bite taken out of the side, though-

"I tried my best to hold back, but I took a bite. Sorry..."

How can you be mad at him?? You're not even embarrassed about the singing anymore tbh. Too full of love to care 💕💕

Belphie

When,,,, was Belphie ever not home,, like,,,,

This man has never seen a classroom in his life, so it's not like you could've expected him to be at RAD.

And he wasn't usually in town?? Definitely a homebody.

But Beel wanted someone to go with him to that crepe cart, and Belphie couldn't exactly turn his dear brother down when he gave him those big baby eyes-

And since Beel wasn't home, you figured Belphie was still out, too!

Spoiler alert: you thought wrong.

Belphie was home, and now wide awake thanks to your banshee screams singing. He managed to slip away from Beel when he got too tired. He didn't really want a crepe anyway, so he decided to head back.

Only to be rudely awaken... how dare you...

He's hellbent on finding you, JUST so he can get you to shush. Please.. let him rest his weary bones...

When he does locate you, you have your back turned to him and your music on max volume, occupying yourself with grabbing your clean laundry to take back to your room.

He doesn't speak, instead choosing to watch you shimmy around to the beat of your song. And when you do a little spin, you turn right around to face him and get to witness the sheer amusement on his face.

He's NOT letting your forget about this moment. And you can't escape him either, he won't let you.

The bastard corners you just to repeatedly ask "Hey, what were you singing? I haven't heard that one in a while. Mind singing it again for me?"

"With a voice like that, I'm afraid to ask you to sing me a lullaby."

"...Just kidding. Your face is really red right now, you know?"

You feel the sudden urge to stuff him into the dryer, but you resist.

The urge grows stronger when he imitates the little dance you were doing.

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randomnameless · 2 years ago

Text

I was yesterday years old when I realised that FMA was more than 20 years old (it started in 2001!) and how I fell in love with it, and the general theme that you can’t dwelve too much on what you have lost, you must move forward and live in the present (especially if it involves resurrecting people through questionable means)

And then, how the Fodlan games completely shat on this universal (?)/general message, because if Rhea’s obsession with resurrecting her worthless Mother is detrimental to, well, her and Fodlan in general, which is what the game(s) really push (her focus on her mom made her blind to some other things), it is ultimately erased by the fact that player privilege means the world, and Fodlan, is saved because Billy - born, partly, from Rhea’s despair to resurrect Sothis - saves the day.

Nopes (tried to) lampshaded it, without Billy, Fodlan is more or less fucked (ignore AG for a moment?). No matter what the Fodlan people, humans and Nabateans try to do, as long as the Goddess’s vessel isn’t here to “guide” people, Fodlan will be ruined.

In other words, it’s because Rhea couldn’t let go of the past that Fodlan is saved, to make an analogy, it’s because the Elric bros tried to resurrect their mom that their world was saved, because the resulting... creature somehow was the key to save the world.

(well, Sitri wasn’t a creature like the ‘thing’ the elric bros created, but)

That’s why the Worst Support in the game (FE16) still has some positive traits, Billy who was born from Rhea’s despair and loneliness ultimately became (or always had been?) someone else, someone separate and a life that was born and decided to do things on their own.

Just like Citrus, what was supposed to be a host and a homonculi was instead a separate human being, with her own thoughts, emotions and will.

Rhea comes to realise it still being soaked in Hresvelg Grey though and can finally move forward.

Billy (and Citrus) aren’t only proofs of Rhea’s despair and loneliness, they are beings, regardless of the circumstances of their birth (creation?) who decided to do some Things on their own.

Back to Nopes -

Nopes is supposed to portray the cast without Billy’s influence, thus the cast who doesn’t solve their issues (or whatever clout is supposed to be).

What would be a Rhea who doesn’t solve her issues, or whose character doesn’t develop?

A hundred of fics earlier theorised that in the Nopes situation, she’d catpure Billy, make them sit on Sothis’s throne and force a Sothis take-over, hopefully, those fics were, fics, and moreover largely OOC.

A Rhea who doesn’t go through the journey SS tried to depict is a Rhea who is still stuck in the past.

While she knows who Billy is, she doesn’t pursue them, no.

But a Rhea stucked in the past is a Rhea who, for example, thinks she needs to apologise to her brother for having been a brat 1100 years ago.

(it wasn’t her, it was Seiros the Warrior, but she feels like she has to apologise.)

I made fun of that scene, but Seteth tells her that it doesn’t matter anymore, since it happened so long ago (and it wasn’t serious, i mean just a shield).

Rhea notes about the state of Indech’s hamlet and how there’s no place of his workshop anymore, when it has been several centuries that Indech left it - for sure it could be nostalgia, but when we know Rhea’s deepest desire was to meet again with her worthless Mother and “recover all” she had lost? Is she chasing after those memories and this time passed?

(why the sad portrait?She wanted to borrow more weapons?)

Seteth, again, tells her that the hamlet’s decrepit state was to be expected, after so long.

Once again, he is the one bringing back the present, and how those times she remembers have long passed.

In her special quotes, with Supreme Leader, Rhea laments Willy’s absence, and wishes he had been there - and in Golden Shower, Rhea even goes as far as to regret sparing the descendants of the Elites when Clout does his thing, confounding the current Riegan asshole to Riegan the Elite’s kid - when she more than anyone else knows that a child shouldn’t pay for its parent’s sins.

Again, while this could be seen and interpreted as nostalgia, given who we’re talking about and her deepest desire to return to a time where she didn’t “lose” everything, it gives the impression that while Rhea might express nostalgia, she really thinks this past will return, and will do what she can - within the limits we know - to make her dream a reality.

IDK, it’s as if the young Elric brothers, while they are gathering “materials” mention how they miss their mom’s potato stew, it could fall under nostalgia, but knowing they are trying to ressurect her?

“why, the first thing i’ll ask her to cook for us is a potato stew!”

Does it mean all is lost and Rhea will always try to return to the past if the Worst Support never happens?

Well...

No.

In AM, she returns “home” - which could be a red flag, but in certain endings, she will take Catherine with her, Catherine who is very much someone anchoring her in the “present” and has no ties to the past she longed for.

Which is interesting, because despite longing for a period of time she can never return to, unless Sothis returns, Rhea still lives and interact with the present/current times.

Not as much as the Fodlan “yippie imperialism” games would like, but Rhea, even if she wants to return to happier times, still saves people, cares for them and considers some of them as her children “she has to protect”.

In AG, while being engrossed in her Nostalgia trip to Indech’s hamlet... Rhea expressedly invited her son-figure, a human living in 1180, Cyril. She cares for him, and worries about his safety. She later seems to acknowledge Dimitri as an ally (at least!) she can trust (to some extent, of course!).

Billy is Billy, Jerry and Citrus’s kid, and not a key to meet her worthless mom or to bring back all the people she cared about.

So, in routes where people don’t want to kill her for the “lols” or because her ears are pointy, she makes some progress.

She had been making some tiny baby steps of progress through the years - being attached to other people bar those from the past - which more or less matches with what we know of the Sothis project : only 12 vessels in 1100 years means that, no, Rhea wasn’t always trying to resurrect “the past”; she tried (?) to live in the present.

Would she come to the Worst Support conclusion and finally move forward without Billy ?

I want to think so, because at least, as the AG route showed, Rhea still has her brother (or whatever Seteth is) with her.

And I really want to think (HC time!) that all those off-handed comments during the paralogue somehow lit a lightbulb in his head, on how Rhea’s attachment to the past is not normal and beyond mere nostalgia, and hopefully, he can help her realise that the past might be gone, but they are still alive and can live in the present world.

So while Rhea’s ultimate fantasy is to reunite and live with Worst Mom, Siblings n° 554 through n° 1987, Wilhelm, the Apostles, Luca, Iris, Marcelle, Gajus (and all the people who have a legacy golem), Cyril, Catherine, Jerry, Citrus, Aelfric, all the unnamed people she cares bout and a trillion of pets - this is just a fantasy that will never happen.

Rhea cannot recover what she has lost, but she can make new bonds and reunite and live with all the living people from the aforementionned list.

Tl;Dr : Instead of boring everyone with 15 different renditions of the Edge of Yawn, even including one in her battle theme (not the one where she dies to the sound of her own cries tho), Rhea as a character really reminded me of the Elric bros and their different theme (at least i think) songs -

From Brotherhood I think there’s a theme called Trisha’s Lullaby which immediately made me think of Rhea’s theme - the song of nabateans - being her mother’s lullaby

And from the 2003 anime, I can’t just ignore this song and the very fitting, imo, last verse :

So where do we go from here? And how to forget and forgive? What's gone is forever lost. Now all we can do is live.

i still think the plot would have been much more interesting if Macuil had been stucked in a :) golem, for all the fucks the devs gave to him, at least we would have had something new (and a new unit!)

#random musings #FE16 #FE16 and FMA comparisons #3 nopes #rhea stuff #how can you mess something like this honestly #or miss maybe #the Worst Ending isn't the Worst because of the ship of something #it's the worst because all those bonds Rhea made in the present or some in the past but were the people are still alive are erased #so yes she moves forwards with Billy #but everyone else is left in the dust #Ed'n'Al were never 'oh well we couldn't save Nina or Hughes so let's forget about them and move forward to a better tomorrow' no

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equizona · 4 years ago

Note

Hiii!! How are you? I hope you are doing great💕✨

I wanted to request headcanons for the bros having a normal dinner at the HoL until Mc who used to have really long hair shows up with a self-cuted bob, you can tell they cutted it by themselves but it’s still cute. When the bros asked about it they responded that they were having a really bad day and they cut their hair as an alternative to self harm.

If you feel uncomfortable you can skip the self harm part! I understand! I was just having a bad day and I decided to cut my hair for the same reasons and my Mamá didn’t take it really nicely, and idk i guess I just want comfort. Thank you I love your writing and again, I hope you have a nice day💕💕✨✨

Scenario: cutting your hair as an alternative to self harm

Note: Hello there! First, I wanna say how proud I am of you, even if I don't know you. The fact you cut your hair instead of cutting is amazing and I am so proud of you. I hope you continue to stay strong, and I'm sorry this took so long! Feel free to contact me if you need someone to talk to. [P.S: I did change the request up but it's mostly the same!]

Fandom: Obey Me!

Character's: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor.

Reader: Kinda G-N! But also has hints that you're most likely a female in this.

Warnings: self harm mentions?

He's very confused.

He does NOT remember you ever leaving the house of lamentation, and your hair was still long earlier this morning.

What happened?

He'll ignore it though.

He'll give you compliments about your hair, and he'll be surprised when you say you cut it on your own.

Tells you that you have talent.

After dinner, he'll ask for you to meet up with him in his office.

He'll immediately ask you why you cut your hair.

Was something wrong? Did you simply want a change? Are you sure you won't regret it? He could find you someone who could grow your hair back out for you if you did?

When you tell him you did that instead of self cutting he's... uncertain on how to feel.

Firstly, he is EXTREMELY proud of you for deciding to do that rather than cut yourself.

He's also a bit disappointed in himself that he didn't notice.

He'll pull you in for a hug, and tell him how proud he is of you for doing that. And how lovely your hair looks short.

He'll tell you to talk to him if you ever feel that you need to cut, and you don't have any other option.

Or if you are simply sad.

He'll get you a therapist if you don't want to speak to him or his brothers.

He'll do almost anything so that you can feel better.

Won't get you knives or things that you can hurt yourself with, but anything else is fair game.

Shocked because why???

Your hair was so nice, and silky! And he loved running his fingers through it and making different hairstyles and all that fun stuff.

He's kinda sad.

But also, you look really good with that hair style?

And you did it on your own?

....ever thought about opening a hair salon? People would pay so much if you had that much talent and skill.

Now, Mammon is most likely the one that is the best on emotions of ALL his brothers.

He can tell when you're not feeling yourself, and it's only like 100 times stronger thanks to the pact you both have.

He'll talk to you when you're both cuddled up in your room, asking you what happened.

When you tell him he'll put the mask he usually has on down and let you know how amazing you are and how proud he is.

Will offer to speak to Lucifer about getting you a therapist, if you'd like.

It won't matter if this is a common way you feel, it only happens once or twice or this only happened once.

He'll do anything you ask of him.

'Cause he loves you more than even money.

Kinda jealous because he' never be able to look good with a hairstyle like that.

And then you're just like

"Oh, I cut it myself."

And he just shirt circuts.

You can cut hair? And even more importantly, your own hair!?!?!?!??!?!

That's so cool!

Why did you never tell him?

At least he's happy that it doesn't seem like any of the others knew about it either.

Now, I honestly feel like Levi's bad thoughts about himself has led him down the path of self harm.

He's surpsingly strong willed, and almost always manages to catch himself and do something else.

And he recognizes what you did as a common thing to do instead.

Asks just to be sure.

And when you tell him that yes, that was why you did it, he's heartbroken.

You don't deserve feelings like that. Actually, you deserve everything good and only the good.

He'll be a lot nicer, doing his best to give you compliments on the new hairstyle and telling you how proud he is.

Mainly fails, but it's okay.

He's trying, and he'll try his best for you to be happy.

<3<3<3<3<3

This man feeds off of anger, so if you did it in a fit of rage or anger, no matter small, he's there in a second to ask how you're doing.

If not? He won't notice. It's only anger he can feel, much to his dismay.

He'll have troubles connecting the dots at first, and will only be handing you out compliments next to Asmo.

Then it hits him that it might be more to it, considering how you're acting.

He'll wait until after dinner and claim you have to help him with something.

Get's really angry when you tell him why you did it.

Not at you though, never at you. At himself, and lucifer, at everything.

He won't keep it up long though, calming down really quickly.

He'll ask you to sit down and read with him, or he'll read to you. Or you can do something on your D.D.D while he reads.

Whatever you want.

Hell, he might decide to let you drag him out somewhere.

Whatever it takes to make you feel even a tiny bit better.

Immediately gushing about how amazing you look with the new hairstyle.

He wants to know where you cut it in the first ten seconds he sees you.

Super shocked when he finds out you did it on your own.

Will ask you to trim his hair sometime.

To be fair, he's no stranger to doing things about his appearance in a fit of strong emotion.

Something Lucifer isn't always the happiest about.

He won't point it out though, if you want to talk, you know he's there.

He drops hints like that, just to be sure.

If you do tell him the reason, he'll immediately pull you in for a hug and shower you in compliments.

Not only on your appearance, but on how amazing you did to cut your hair instead of cutting your skin.

Self care day

He'll push away any of his brothers, doing his best to make you feel the most confident you have ever felt in your own body

Also, he'll make sure you know he's there for you and offer to get a therapist if you'd like one

When it starts to get late he'll put on a movie in the background and cuddle you💞💞💞

He thinks you look great with the new hairstyle!

You looked amazing before as well, but you also look amazing now!

Honestly, he kinda forgets about it during the dinner, a hair cut doesn't change who you are and you're still his very best friend and love of his life

He'll do his normal "get up at 12am and drag you for midnight snacks."

And if you tell him, he'll drop his food and pull you in for a hug

He doesn't say much, but offers you his food.

Whenever he's sad, food makes him feel better, so he does what he knows and hopes it'll share you up too

He'll also be willing to do anything you ask

Want him to carry you? Hug you? Cuddles? Want him to talk to lucifer for you? Want to vent? Want to cry?

He's there for you

Honestly, I doubt he even notices.

He's to busy sleeping to care.

When he DOES notice it's when he drags you down to sleep and tries nuzzling his face into your long hair-

Wait it's gone?

He'll get kinda pissy, 'cause he liked your long hair, but then he noticed it's still super soft and just goes back to sleep

He won't even bring up the possibility that you did it as an alternative to self harm

It crossed his mind but he refuses to believe it

If you tell him, he'll react kinda negatively, and won't talk to you

For like 30 minutes max

Most likely only for like 5 minutes though

He'll realize that he should be there for you

Isn't sure what to do, so he just kinda cuddles you and apologies for how he reacted

He's very lazy put he puts in an extra effort to tell you how proud he is

Because cutting your hair is way better than hurting yourself and you did super good doing the hair cutting instead

He'll let his brothers help you during the day, and have you cuddle with him at night so he can make sure you have the best dreams

I'd say he's horrible at it, but the effort is actually pretty obvious and he makes sure you're guarded in the night

He tries

His best

And it works to some degree

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hornime · 3 years ago

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i. fresh | akaashi keiji x f!reader

ripe for the picking: masterlist

warnings: none, this is plot stuff and fluff so fluffy i almost puked

w/c: 1.9k

a/n: this chap and next chap will be sfw. after that...

the blaring alarm from your phone, something straight out of a nuclear fallout zone, wakes you with a groan, and you kick the covers off of your pajama-clad body, blindly smacking your hand down on the headboard in the hopes of turning off that godforsaken noise. after your fourth try, you get lucky, hand clasping around the device and your finger slamming down on the snooze button with such force that you fear your screen—or you finger—will break.

fucking hate that sound, you lament, but it’s the only one that can actually wake me up.

you stretch your hands above your head with an exaggerated yawn, before slowly making your way to the closet of your dorm room, weaving through half-empty cardboard boxes that you’d been too lazy to unpack when you’d arrived to campus at some ungodly hour the night before. staring at your sleepy face in the mirror, you silently wish that you could just curl back up in the blankets and sleep, but skipping class probably wouldn't send the best message to your new professors.

it's your first day of class at a new university after transferring in the middle of the semester, and you're not really looking forward to swooping back into the social hierarchy of college after a blissful week at home.

unfortunately, you don't really have much of a choice. not if i want this damn degree, you groan internally.

after taking a half-hearted shower in the grimy dorm bathroom, you throw on an random outfit—you've long since lost the motivation to make a good impression on your classmates since, in your experience, everyone's a snake anyway.

making your way out, you grab a coffee from the cafe across the road from your building and rustle around in your bag for the granola bar you'd thrown in their yesterday, fully aware that you wouldn't have time to go to the dining hall the next morning.

you walk through the doors of your class at eight sharp, ignoring a couple of intrigued glances from people that were, rightfully so, curious as to why there was a new student this far in the year.

it's a pretty large group of kids—from the class description, you knew it was a pretty niche course that likely wouldn't garner that much interest from people who weren't actually going to pursue a career in the field��so you're a bit surprised at how full the room is. you find a seat near the front—first impressions matter, you tell yourself—and make yourself comfortable, but not too comfortable.

after all, the last thing you need is to spend the next two hours dozing off.

to your delight, the course is interesting, and you spend your time taking notes and joining in on discussions in a way that is not-at-all boring. on top of that, a cute, dark-haired guy in the front row shoots you a couple smiles when you say something smart, so yeah, you're feeling pretty great.

as the clock strikes ten and students start trailing out, your professor waves you over and make your way to your his desk, almost tripping over someone's backpack.

"you did great today, i'm really impressed with your insight," he grins. "you seem like a very bright young woman."

"thanks," you beam. "i'm excited to be taking this course."

he hums, sifting through some papers before him "you just transferred in right? you need some help getting around or anything?"

you give your schedule a quick once-over, mentally noting that you don't have another class until two, but it's in a building that didn't show up on google maps.

typical, you'd grumbled when your search yielded no results of its location.

"yeah, i have a class in the south wing but i just have no idea where that is."

"that south wing's impossible to find," he laughs, looking for someone behind you. his eyes light up in recognition as he sees them, and he waves them over. you take a glance only to see the cute guy from earlier making his way towards the tow of you.

"this is akaashi," your professor explains. "he's my best student, though i can see you challenging him," he chuckles, "and easily one of the top in your year. and i'm pretty sure he was a tour guide last semester..." akaashi nods. "...so he can probably show you around."

you open your mouth to speak, but akaashi chimes in. "yeah, that sounds awesome," he says, turning to you with a charming smile, blue eyes simmering with friendliness and... something else that you can't quite put a finger on. for an instant, you feel like prey, but you shake it off as nerves. "i don't have to do anything for a while so we can go now, if you'd like."

you can't help but feel heat rush to your cheeks as he makes eye contact with you. you almost lose yourself in his eyes—they're so pretty, you think—before remembering where you are. "sure, sounds great!"

akaashi cranes his neck to look over your shoulder to look at your schedule, making you shiver at the close proximity. you close your eyes, subtlety taking a whiff of his cologne—even he smells good, you think. so he's hot, he's smart, he's hygienic, and—

"south wing, huh?"

your eyes snap open and meet his. "oh, yeah. not a clue where it is."

he whistles. "yeah, it's a doozy. about a seven minute walk, give or take, but it's not on the main campus, so it makes sense why you couldn't find it."

"gotcha, gotcha."

he slides his phone out of his back pocket, lip slightly quirking up as a couple messages flash across his screen. suddenly, he glances up at the clock, fingers hovering above his keyboard. "about how long ago would you say we started talking?"

"oh," you furrow your eyebrows, a bit caught off-guard by the question. "uh, around two minutes, maybe?"

"so like," he looks up at the ceiling, "10:02:43-ish?"

you shake your head. "no idea," you laugh. "what do you need such an accurate time for, anyway?"

he turns to you, and for a quick second, there's an intensity in his gaze that makes your blood curdle. it's gone as soon as it comes.

"nothing, just a bet with my friends."

"and you need minutes and seconds for it? must be an important bet."

"yeah, well," he glances back down at his screen. "i'm a pretty competitive person."

he fires off a quick text, to a groupchat, you presume, and then locks his phone, sticking it into his bag.

"so," he offers his hand and you nearly swoon, cursing yourself at how easily you've let this guy nestle himself into your frontal lobe, "next stop: south wing."

as you navigate your way out of the building with akaashi, who lets you take the lead, insisting that "i'm not always going to be here!", you realize how easy it is to talk to him—he's kind, funny, and intelligent, and best of all, he seems genuinely interested in what you have to say. the two of you fall into an easy rhythm, and you soon find out that he's a literature major. he laughs at the weird look you give him when he tells you that.

"i know, i know. it's kind of useless in the real world."

you gape at him, before trying to defend yourself. "i wasn't—that's not what i was gonna say," you pause. "it's just—"

"—worthless?" he stares at you, trying to look as serious as possible, but the curve of his lip and the glint in his eyes tell you that he's just messing with you.

you shove him lightly, rolling your eyes. "no. it's just probably not the easiest degree to get a job with, that's all. but i'm sure you knew that when you chose it, and you're a relatively smart guy, so i'm sure you have a reason."

"only 'relatively' smart?" he quips, bringing his hand to his chest. "you wound me. i'll have you know that i was valedictorian in elementary school. i'm sure that warrants more than 'relatively' smart."

you tap your chin in faux thought. "hm, maybe i should knock it down to 'moderately smart'."

"unbelievable," he scoffs, shaking his head. "anyway, what about you? why'd you choose your major?"

you go into a spiel about your interests, your career goals, and, after a slight moment of hesitation, why you left your old university.

"sucky people," you explain. "specifically my ex. he's the stupid bonehead of a frat guy with absolutely no respect for anyone other than his 'bros'." you practically spit out the words. "he made my life hell and treated me like shit."

he nods, chuckles, and frowns at all the right places as you talk, and you feel something burning in your chest.

i didn't come here to have a crush, you try to remind yourself, but it won't hurt... right?

as you open the door and begin walking on the main promenade, you realize how popular he is. it's not surprising, especially with the ease he conversed with you, a complete stranger, but it is annoying; what was supposed to be a seven minute walk turns into a stroll of over twenty minutes. it seems like every few seconds, someone's coming up to him, patting him on the back, or calling out to him.

"you're a big man on campus, aren't you?" you joke during a rare second of silence. "you sure know a lot of people."

akaashi shrugs. "i'm in a few things, yeah. i'm on student council, honors society, and i'm in a fra—" he cuts himself off as he looks up, "—we're here." he dramatically waves his hands behind him, making you giggle. "welcome to the gloriously elusive south wing."

"thank you, mr. tour guide. i appreciate it."

"appreciate it enough for a tip?" he rubs his fingers together like he's asking for money and you snort.

"not quite," you respond playfully. "might need another tour before it comes to that."

"whatever for the lady," he grins, waving his hand. "i'll see you around."

you turn, trying and failing to wipe your stupidly large smile off your face, and begin walking towards the building entrance. hearing the sound of footsteps, you whip your head around, only to almost crash into akaashi, who's made his way towards you.

"geez, you scared me!"

"sorry," he huffs. he looks down at his hands, appearing to be almost... shy?

"um, i was wondering if i could have your number?"

your mouth falls open. oh my god, you think, your brain blanking. he's asking for my number. kind, funny, and intelligent boy is asking for my number.

"y-yeah, totally," you stammer, hands almost shaking as he gives you his phone. you plug in the digits and pass it back, both of your faces hot in nervousness.

he begins to walk backwards, eyes still on you. "see you around," he says, like it's a promise.

"you too."

it's a maximum of five minutes after you've parted ways that your phone buzzes.

[10:47 AM] unknown: hey it's akaashi :)

the way your heart flutters at the message tells you that you've fallen a lot faster for a stranger than any sane person should. but for some reason, you don't feel scared, only excited.

akaashi seems to have that effect on you.

if you enjoyed, reblogs + comments are appreciated!

#this is just plot it'll get juicy soon i swear #i love unrealistic college interactions #akaashi smut #akaashi fluff #akaashi angst #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji x you

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obeymeluv · 4 years ago

Text

The Bros as Dads

PSA: The boys would be very attractive dads (emotionally and physically). That is all.

Note: the headcanon also includes genders for the kids. I can see some of them having sons, and others having daughters. And, obviously, everyone is older (20′s-ish).

Lucifer

Takes a while to process the news. It’s kind of a big thing. His love life was something of a roller coaster (or nonexistent) until you. The ‘L’ word was a hurdle, now there’s a B word and a P word?!

When his brain realizes what you’ve said or if you show him some proof, the pride takes over FULL SWING (you can feel it explode in him, like his aura) and he purrs

You are truly his stars, his moon, and the heavens he so dearly misses

There’s this raw, vulnerable love in Lucifer’s eyes and it pretty much awes everyone because he’s usually so proper and reserved

The memories are old and dusty but Lucifer’s parenting instincts are strong

A type-A, fussy person. You may have 7 months left before you give birth, but the house will be spotless and perfectly proofed before you hit bed rest

Piles of parenting books suddenly sprout around the house. No one’s sure where they came from or how there’s even that many WRITTEN about parenting.

You and the child become his world. You’re his kryptonite, the only thing to convince him away from long hours or break him out of sour moods

Lucifer is very stressed, more than he thought he’d be, because you’re carrying his child and he worries for your health.

He’s with you every step of the way, from appointments to birth

He’d absolutely drop everything to tend to your needs, or appoint one of the brothers if he couldn’t.

Likes to busy himself with making a nursery and is actually good at themes/interior decorating

Has a tiny desk built in his study. The child won’t be able to join him for a while, but the idea of his tiny joy working on something beside him warms his heart

Hunts down obscure herbs and items from folklore that are supposed to bless pregnancies or benefit the unborn. Turns out he’s really nervous and superstitious.

Lucifer is the worst when it comes to shopping because his pride outweighs his logical restraint. If he convinces himself IN THE SLIGHTEST that his child would look good in something or the nursery could really use an item, it’s coming to the House of Lamentation

He ugly cries when he realizes you’re having a girl because he feels like Lilith has been given back to him.

Refuses to name his child Lilith because of everything that happened. Can’t settle for anything close to her name or any nicknames they gave her.

Makes you a sleeping space in his study. Loves to take breaks to watch you sleep. Unintentionally takes a break to kiss your stomach and talk to the baby.

Firm believer in ‘in the belly’ enrichment so you’ll have music playing and Lucifer will read to them all the time.

If the baby’s not with you, she’s with him. Lucifer has definitely shown up to a meeting with Lord Diavolo with his baby in a chest carrier. The meeting went flat because Diavolo wanted to play with the baby.

He’s the type of dad that demands total silence when the baby’s sleeping. Might have tied up some of his brothers to achieve it.

He’s not a total hard-ass (this kid has made a sucker out of him, okay?) but his kid will definitely have manners and knows to help clean up.

The type to take naps with his kid. He’ll get up at 2 in the morning and climb into their crib if they’re fussy.

Lucifer spent so much of his life being the primary caretaker for his bros that he forgets he’s not alone this time. When you push him back down so he can sleep, and tend to your daughter, his heart almost bursts with love.

On the fence about another child. The kid’s going to have pride in spades and he thinks a sibling will humble them (and make them less lonely). He’s also afraid of that prideful wrath and doesn’t want two prideful little demons always fighting

Isn’t the best with dressing up his kid but likes to give them fancy shoes. The shoes are always on point even if the rest of the outfit is a disaster.

Is 100% ready to receive any and everything “#1 Dad” because he IS, DAMN IT. He’ll use it regularly, too.

Mammon

He’s freaking out hardcore (”You sure? Really, really sure? Maybe you just have gas or something. Y-yeah!”)

Doesn’t believe it until he sees a test. Promptly faints. Dead-ass faints as soon as he sees it.

Kind of remembers it when he wakes up, and you have to remind him again.

This time he’s pretty excited because THE GREAT MAMMON will be having a child. WHAT A GIFT, RIGHT? THE BEST GIFT!

All the magazines are snapping up this gossip and, for once in his life, he puts the earnings away. Kid has a nice fund going before they’re even born.

His schedule is 50% work, 50% family because YOUR MAIN MAN HAS TO BE THERE. Work just pays the bills and pads the nursery account, okay?

The Devildom has something similar to a baby shower and Mammon puts all KINDS of high-dollar shit on there. His baby’s going to be stylin’, okay?

Some crying in front of others, but an entirely different kind of crying behind closed doors. Vulnerable, grateful crying about being loved and having a tiny someone who will love him, too

Pays someone to explain baby stuff to him. How to change them, feed them, what type of breathing you should be doing. It surprised his bros because Lucifer could just give him that info. The fact that Mammon paid for it means he’s pretty serious about learning.

Gets tons of free maternity photos because all his magazines want the scoop. He gets to pamper you and see you all dressed up and beautiful and EVERY magazine has a shot of him crying like a proud sap.

Mammon hoards all of those pictures. Has a pile of them in his room, totally separate from everything else.

Has a lot of nervous energy and can get frustrated with all the baby books, so he distracts himself with scrap-booking. Surprisingly good at it.

Mammon thinks you’re just the most beautiful thing ever. He loves taking pictures of you. Wants the kid to have no doubts about how much he loves them and their parent.

He’s so lovesick. When you sleep or hug your belly or just touch it he melts.

Stacks Grimm on your belly when you sleep. Thinks it’s fun. Likes to record how big the towers get.

Not the best at getting up for your random-hour cravings and has definitely made you cry with his bluntness. When he’s more awake he’ll apologize and you guys will work it out.

When he finds out he’s having a little boy, the bros throw a party. Mammon gets semi-drunk and has a huge, ass-chewing lecture about how the bros made him feel for centuries and how they better not say ANYTHING like that to his kid.

You shot down any and all attempts to name the kid anything money related.

Almost passed out when you had the baby.

Cried when he first held him. Calls him Mamm-mini.

Totally planning the baby’s first photo shoot. Has people on standby to make matching outfits.

He now has a partner in crime and the kid can charm the pants off of anyone!

Mammon is 100% devoted to this kid and he secretly hopes he’s the favorite parent.

Lives for any second of bonding he can get. NEEDS IT TO LIVE. 100% a sappy dad.

The most supportive dad, always saying nice things because he knows people didn’t always say nice things about him.

Levi

Brain stops working. You almost think you’ve given him a heart attack

Levi feels you take the controller from his hand and instantly has to fill it with something else, taking yours. He looks at you and asks you again if you’re sure.

He can see it in your eyes and he just crows. He doesn’t know if he’s excited or scared but he made the noise.

Worries A LOT about the idea of becoming a father. Can gross otakus be good fathers? How does he dad?

Gets pre-stressed about social interactions. Kids have to go to school and have play-dates and Levi’s going to have to talk to people...ugh! Gross!

Definitely has a few break-downs (feelings of inadequacy, etc.) before Lucifer or Satan comfort him. He’s better than he thinks, just insecure. Everyone learns as they go. They have classes (”They’re like cheat codes, Levi.”) and it makes him feel better

His gaming friends send their congratulations and he gets lots of themed blankets and onesies.

Wants you to have a water birth because the water is his child’s calling. Really attached to the idea.

He’s constantly looking up guides to baby-proofing, double- and triple-checking safety specs of anything before buying it.

Spends HOURS scouring Akuzon, comparing brands, and reading reviews for everything.

Akuzon noticed he was buying lots of baby books and looking at baby-related things so they sent him a onesie.

You get a lovely beach/water-themed maternity shoot and Levi is so love-struck he gets a nosebleed. Once he’s cleaned up it makes a darling photo shoot.

Has already made lists of anime for the kid to watch. Some are his favorite, some are for the lessons and moments that stuck with him

Asmo messaged TSL on the down-low and Levi got some quality kid-sized merch.

Tries to get you to name the baby Henry if it’s a boy. When he finds out it’s a girl, he pushes for Henrietta.

Reads TSL to the baby and plays ocean sounds.

As you get further along in your pregnancy, he buys a fridge for his room and stocks it with your favorite cold stuff. Any snack foods are just added to his stash.

You are absolutely worshipped. Craving something? Akuzon has it and the fastest pig is on it’s way. Your feet hurt? Try a water bath!

You’re his Player 2 now and forever (always have been), and he’s keeping you in perfect health.

Probably keeps a video journal for the kid or of the two of you during your pregnancy. Big on preserving stuff digitally.

Probably makes a game for his kid just because. They’ll be able to play it when they’re older.

Bought a ton of Magical Girl-style hairbows and things for when their hair grows in. His daughter’s a fucking princess, okay?

Belphegor bought the baby a goldfish onesie and Levi loves it to pieces.

Bought the baby a seashell bassinet and rocks them to sleep with his tail.

Levi has a bad sleep schedule and wakes easily, so he’s usually the first one to get up and handle the baby.

He has this complex about being a good dad. People can call him a weird, gross otaku but they’re ALSO going to mention how good of a dad he is!

Super affectionate with his kid in a quiet, whispering, mumbling way. Just thinks they’re the best thing.

Having a daughter really makes him rethink some of the ways he viewed anime characters and made him super critical. If his daughter ends up liking anime he’ll make it very clear what he thinks and how she shouldn’t let other people treat her like an object.

His demon form gets triggered REALLY EASILY if his bros hold her for too long. THAT’S HIS BABY, THANK YOU!

Satan

Secretly hoped to be a father one day. Wanted to prove so badly that he could be one, and move past the constant fear of his temper looming over him. He didn’t want wrath to be his only legacy.

Can’t manage more than a genuine smile and a lilting laugh when you tell him, but he’s literally almost sick with joy. He’s just not the type to jump from the rooftops or anything

Asmodeus and Mammon convince him into drinking because he needs to let loose and really show it!

Satan ends up drunk-stumbling to Lucifer and plunking his head into his chest and crying. He’s crying because he’s happy and mumbling something about ‘granddad’. When his tears dry he’s happy as can be, smugly calls Lucifer an ‘old fuck’ and promptly throws up.

They’re past most of their bad blood but even Lucifer wasn’t surprised Satan never got EVERYTHING out of his system. A lot of his childhood memories are tainted with pure wrath instead of coming into his cardinal sin through some other mean. Or naturally, like puberty.

Between his personal research and Lucifer’s expertise, the baby-proofing is totally covered.

His book binges are strictly about pregnancies, suspicions, rituals, parenting, and anything he can think of that has to do with kids.

He’s big on teas and brews that are supposed to help with pregnancies and pains. Uses his many connections to get ingredients for said teas

Reads the classics and big epics to his unborn child.

Buys you some Hellcats for protection. They’re fiercely loyal, so he’ll know you’re safe.

He’d be the type to nag you about your diet, but not to be mean. He’d support it with this absolute WALL of evidence that turns into a lecture that could last for hours.

Has to fight the Hellcats to sit next to you or touch your belly a lot more than he thought he would. He’d never say it out loud, but he’s starting to hate the cats (he doesn’t mean it though).

Starts cleaning up his book piles a lot more. The baby would get hurt if the stacks fell on them. His room becomes virtually spotless.

You pick books to read together. You end up reading Satan to sleep, too. He keeps a hand on your belly.

Gets nervous about you wanting to go out, and basically tries to keep you in the House of Lamentation. Relents a little because hormones make you scary. He was basically afraid of nothing because the walks were fine.

You like to sit in the Devildom gardens and he thinks you look picturesque and wonderful. It takes his breath away.

Asmodeus is your personal photographer because Satan doesn’t think anyone else will do you justice.

Finds out you’re having boy-girl twins and totally shuts down. What does he say? How does he respond? BELPHIE OR BEEL WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE TWINS! WHY HIM?!

Lucifer is BEYOND amused. This is definitely payback for everything Satan did in his childhood (so the saying goes).

It doesn’t bother him as much when he starts buying smart little cardigans, button-ups, ribbons, and bowties. He’s actually quite happy.

The Hellcats act weird and tip him off to your contractions before your water breaks. Satan gets you to the hospital and helps you give birth. The twins grow to look more like him than you, but if someone mistakes you for the nanny or says something derogatory, he’s pulling two ferocious kids off an idiot

Satan was afraid he’d be a short fuse, but he becomes the parent that explains everything to death (for better or worse). The kids will get a lecture when they’re bad, when the ask ‘why’ to something, he’ll explain why he gave the punishment he did, and be very clear with anything.

Asmodeus

Quickly falls in love with the idea of you being pregnant. It’s the best! Proof of his truest love, the thing that makes his heart beat!

He loved you to pieces before you were pregnant, and loves you even more now (if that’s possible).

Always wants to be with you, smothering your belly with kisses and touches and looking at it like it’s the next greatest love of his life

Takes names very seriously. “My child is a gift unto this world. People will know their name, so it has to be a good one!”

Gets really wrapped up in decor and aesthetic. He’d be a one-man force for all of it if you didn’t tell him to stop and breathe! Asmodeus just has lots of ideas, okay?

Has a really hard time understanding the value of baby-proofing until Satan smushes a few of his lipsticks in his hand and knocks around some finishing powder (”Now imagine that. All the time. With anything you love.”).

Hires someone to baby-proof the room because that’s just not his thing. He’ll handle securing the valuables, okay?

Constantly reading about beauty rituals and things to do for his pregnant wife. She’s doing something really hard and deserves to be pampered!

You’ll constantly be pampered or trying ‘this and that’ because he read it was good for the baby. Good for beauty, good for health, etc.

Has a pretty decent diet, himself, and keeps you on yours.

You definitely have pregnancy sex a few times. Anything he can do to help you out, you know?

Asmodeus ADORES watching you grow round with his child and LIVES for helping you take care of yourself. He’ll let you lounge in his fantastic tub and has no issues sitting on the floor and doing your toes

Picks out all your outfits. Wants you to look your best! Don’t worry, you’ll be comfy!

When he finds out you’re having a girl he cries. A lot.

SO MANY BABY UPDATE BROADCASTS ON DEVILGRAM! There is an official ‘baby watch’. It’s trending more than you thought it would.

Takes TONS of videos.

His baby is easily the most fashionable child in all of Devildom.

Takes really candid, private photos that have a lot of sentimental value. A lot of your pregnancy photos are you looking comfy in bed or sitting at a vanity in breezy clothes as he does your makeup.

The type of dad to sit down in the middle of the store to play with toys (are they good enough for his kid? Like, really?). Must feel everything before he buys it. If he doesn’t like how it feels, he won’t buy it.

You end up giving birth earlier than planned and Asmo almost throws up because birth doesn’t look like he thought it would

Super nervous during your pregnancy because you’re in pain and there’s lots of noises.

Busies himself doing your makeup because that’s the only way he can handle the situation. You’re holding his tail and he SWEARS you’re going to break it off!

The bros help deliver his little angel and Asmo is SMITTEN. ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN.

Holding his baby 24/7.

Loses sleep just because he watches them sleep. Sometimes he loses sleep for real because DAMN, babies don’t sleep a lot, do they?

It’s really hard to adjust to and he’s surprised his skin isn’t god-awful.

Doesn’t regret a thing, fawning over their tiny nails and little curls, and OMG EVERYTHING! Cries a lot because they’re just perfect

His wardrobe reflects his dad status but he still looks like a DILF. You can give him the most classic dad attire and it just looks good on him.

Beelzebub

He’s excited about your pregnancy. Boy honestly tried for it, you know? Studied positions and everything.

Beelzebub has so much love and the idea of holding a tiny someone just warms his heart

Everything kid-related is totally foreign to him except for how to act with them. He and Belphie were the youngest so he was used to being taken care of until he got old enough to climb and eat on his own.

The type of guy to need explicit, step-by-step instructions on EVERYTHING. He doesn’t have a brain for it like Satan or Lucifer, so he needs help

Seriously. Give him a checklist for baby-proofing and he’ll get it done.

Gets pretty down about not being able to cuddle and snuggle like normal, but he’ll look into safe ways to do so.

Has special snuggles with the baby. Kisses your belly and rubs it. Talks to your baby like the little demon it is (even if it doesn’t have a name yet).

Lives for the times you talk to the baby, talk yourself out of bed, or how you absently talk to your belly throughout the day.

Works out to deal with stress and nerves, but also because he wants to be a good, strong dad

The doctors give him a list of exercises you can do and he does them with you

Can’t really take the nutrition advice seriously. He eats pretty much everything and you probably will, too.

When people ask him about your pregnancy, he uses very inclusive language (”We’re expecting, etc.”)

You make mini-dates out of your late-night cravings. Beel is totally in love with it.

Beelzebub becomes your food finder. There’s been times where you look at him so cutely, so imploringly, and all you can manage is ‘spicy and crunchy’. He’ll find you something, don’t worry! He’s an expert!

Big on massages and cuddling. Likes to cup his hands over your belly and trace it.

The type of dad to gain weight with you as your pregnancy moves along. Becomes soft, strong dad.

Finds out you’re having twin boys and has the happiest crying session ever. Belphie is the first to know and all Beel can say is ‘Just like us!’ as he nearly crushes his twin to death.

Likes to dress them in cute and comfy clothes. Animal onesies? Yes!

At some point yours twins are going to look like hotdogs and hamburgers. There’s no shortage of food costumes thanks to Levi, Asmo, and Beel.

Suspicious about baby food, bugs Satan about how nutritious it is, and tries all of it just to be sure.

Some of their teething toys look like real food. Beelzebub ate one on accident.

Is a perfect gentle giant. Afraid of hurting them, for they are tiny and precious, but gets over that pretty quickly.

Always wants to cuddle and hold them. You have to make him leave them alone to sleep. Gets kind of sad when they’re napping because he can’t make faces at them or hear them laugh. Right back to his usual self when they wake up, though.

You best believe they learn their alphabet by studying food. Beelzebub will stand in the kitchen and dig through the pantry until he finds things that match the letters of the alphabet

Belphegor

He’s kind of surprised you ended up pregnant because the sex is usually lazy and casual. Yes, he has the moments where it’s pretty hardcore, but...wow. For some reason, he just didn’t see you getting pregnant.

Secretly hopes you have more than one kid. Something in him would just be happy if there’s more than one kid. You think it comes from the time he spent alone in the attic but never say it.

Sleeps a lot more. Not out of avoidance or anything, but because naps will be rare in the future. He likes to think he’s stockpiling sleep.

Makes sure you’re comfy at all times.

Would love for you to sleep and be cozy but apparently that’s not healthy for humans, so he takes easy walks around the house and keeps you semi-active.

He’ll give you his cow pillow to use as a back pillow. It’s his way of letting the baby use it until he can share it with them.

Listens to a lot of audiotapes about parenting. Looks at books, too, but does better with audio.

Reads a new bedtime story to your kid every night.

Sometimes you guys sleep in the star room so he can talk to them about constellations. They can’t see anything, of course, but he still goes into detail.

Isn’t much of a picture person and doesn’t see the point in taking maternity pictures. It’s actually because Belphie has a photographic memory so he remembers everything.

The bros force him into taking maternity pictures.

The type to journal everything. He writes a big-ass, super-detailed diary for the baby.

Is kind of worried about his temperament, so he’ll take some classes on how to handle stress and stuff before the babies arrive

Becomes King of Lists. There’s lists for everything. Lists help. Lists are good.

When he finds out you’re having triplets (a boy and two girls), he doesn’t know how to react. You saw him smile though. It doesn’t sink in until you’re hugging him. “I’m never sleeping again,” he realizes with absolute terror.

Beelzebub is super excited. “That’s twins plus a bonus!”

Very snobby about the nursery decor. Also very tactile like Asmodeus. If it doesn’t feel good, it’s not going in the nursery.

Wants a barn-themed nursery (to include as many cow-related things as possible)

You get the comfiest PJs.

With three kids, he lives by embroidery. He has to have a way to tell them apart, after all (the girls, at least).

Can’t hoard the babies but wants to. Hates that he doesn’t have enough arms to hold them all at the same time.

Is very interested by their tendency to hold each other and nap together. Finds it super adorable.

Makes a super-sized crib he can climb in and sleep with them. It’s basically a Belphie-sized bed with little attachments his kids sleep in. Separates them all just enough so he doesn’t worry about hurting them, but there’s still contact

Thanks whatever god exists that they mostly stay on a schedule together. Makes it stressful for changing diapers, but very fun to feed them.

Almost dies laughing when Lucifer holds them for the first time because one vomited on him, the other sneezed in his face, and one pooped so much it got on his pants leg.

Lulls them to sleep with his happy purr, and gets woken up from a dead sleep by pure love when they make the sound back. Suddenly there’s three chirpy purrs rolling against him and he’s in love.

Proud they love their mama so much (to the point of being TOTAL mama’s kids), but also kind of relieved he can breathe.

The three trade off occasionally when they realize he’s free real estate and come to him for snuggles. They all love him so he doesn’t mind.

This house supports cuddle piles! Belphie got them hooked on group naps for a young age and they sleep together now.

Hope you liked it :)

#Obey Me!#Obey me! x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #levi x reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmo x Reader #Satan x Reader #beelzebub x reader #Beel x Reader #Belphegor x Reader #Belphie x Reader

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introvert--weeb · 3 years ago

Note

Hi, fellow matchup blog here as well. Could I persay get an Obey Me matchup?

More information can be found on my navigation post [ about me ]

Fem Aries / pansexual (they/she) / ENTJ-A 8w9

I’m known to be either very smiley and optimistically loud or very serious/demanding, quiet, and passive/realistic.

I get angered/irritated very easily but I’m quick to get over it. I don’t hold grudges given I don’t really see the need to , but also I forgive people very easily.

I’m the type of person that just doesn’t care what people think about me. People say I come off as arrogant or selfish. Arrogant yes but I won’t really say I’m selfish. I like to do things that benefit me in a way, but also in a way that also benefits my surroundings.

I like to lead and be in charge of things. Im a quick thinker and like to get things done right then and there. Im very blunt and brutally honest in my leadership/also in general and because of that people may call me an ass or an insensitive beatch. However I’ve learned and tried to compromise with others to get what they also want. Besides that I’m a very energetic person who tries to see the good in others and tries to come off as my best self to ones I don’t know.

However get to know me and I’m actually just a chaotic being. I’d like to say I’m a pretty kind and open minded person who’s fairly goal oriented. I have a problem with not living in the moment and would rather constantly plan things out. I adore (deep) cleaning and will do so whenever I want to, feel the need to, or when I’m pissed off. When I’m alone I prefer to be left alone and I’m very quiet whereas in public I’m very extroverted and energetic.

I play violin/piano. I sing anywhere and anytime. I always find myself humming or singing something.

I tend to like people romantically or even just as friends/people who are much more smarter than I am. And very affectionate through words or not. And people who know how to live in the moment unlike me who’s always future oriented. I like to give people things as an act of love.

Apologies for the long request. Do take your time.

Hello! Of course you can! You sound amazing, I'm not gonna lie ❤️ @vbee-miya

I can see you suiting...

Lucifer ❤️

You both would be the power couple of Devildom.

Your personalities and ideals are similar enough where he doesn't get easily irritated with you being around. With you around, he would learn to not keep as many grudges (especially against Mammon and his spending habits) and calm down every now and then.

The main issue in your relationship would be that you both like to be in charge and will make it so things go your way. If you both want different things then expect to try and convince him to compromise with you. However, because he loved you, you would have an easier time doing this than his brothers.

You would help Lucifer when it came to building the relationships he had with his younger brothers. This was because you would both learn how to make better compromises with the others so that everyone was happy with the choice. This was definitely difficult for Lucifer but with you by his side, he was getting better at it. Although he would only do this every now and again so that no-one would try and take advantage of this kinder side. He was still the eldest brother and Avatar of Pride after all.

When it came to the rest of the brothers, you would be close with them all with a preference towards Satan and Mammon.

Satan was because he reminded you of your boyfriend (although you would never admit this to him) and he would tell you about all the new things he had read about. You would settle down in his room with a cup of your favourite hot beverage while the conversation would consist of any topic that had caught his and your attention recently.

Mammon was simply because he was chaotic and you felt you needed that energy in your life sometimes. When you hang out, your energies would match up and you would both try and find something fun to do. This was usually going out shopping so Mammon could buy all the things he saw while you would be trailing behind him, resisting the urge to lecture him about how irresponsible he was being. Although, you did love that he lived entirely within the moment, no thoughts on the consequences for his spending until it came down to facing them. Sometimes you wished you could be just like him.

Dates could happen at any moment with the two of you, but extravagant dates are often left until the end of each month. Smaller dates would usually be held within Lucifer's study or the music room he loved so much. Once he had found out you could play the piano as well as sing, you can bet your ass that he would constantly ask you to entertain him with a song. As you played, he would be sat comfortably in his chair, eyes closed and a glass of wine in hand. Lucifer adored this side of you and made sure you knew just how much he did. Compliments were showered over you, which is surprising since he was known to very rarely say anything nice to anyone else. Pride was definitely thrown out the window around you though (not entirely but he sure wasn't how he usually is).

Lucifer understood the importance of alone time and so would make it a point to allow you both time to yourselves. You appreciated it more than he probably knew. Although he loved you with his entire being, being around you 100% of the time would have caused arguments and resentments. After all, having your own life away from each other was an important aspect of any relationship to prevent co-dependency.

Cleaning day was every Sunday in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer would make sure Mammon and Belphie didn't try to get you to clean their rooms so they could goof off or sleep. Even though he knew you loved deep cleaning, there was only so much you could do and he didn't want you to get worn out. Might even buy you specific things you wanted to get a better cleaning experience. He would find it hard to say no when you begged to clean his study because it was becoming cluttered. He appreciates how clean you are, even trying to get on your level but it's just too difficult when he has Diavolo to deal with.

In public, the most affection you would get is him holding your hand or placing a quick kiss to the top of your head. When you both are in the comfort of his study or room, this demon gets SUPER affectionate. Might even be a little touch starved so he would enjoy cuddles and other softer expressions of your love. Definitely would place you on his lap while he completes paperwork, his spare hand rubbing circles into your palm. Anything to just have you touching him.

He keeps everything you give him in a special drawer at his desk. Cards you had given him for his birthday or valentine's day, little love notes, dried up flowers, this drawer had them all. Secretly will reread the love notes every night before going bed. He is secretly a softie when it comes to you.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me matchups #match up requests #match up event #100 followers event #requested #@vbee-miya #obey me lucifer

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years ago

Text

The One With The Merry Little Christmas

Summary: The chill at this year’s Lawrence City Fire Department’s Christmas party has nothing to do with the snow falling outside and everything to do with the Dean and Y/n.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K+

Warnings: Language, implied smut, angst (with a happy ending, no pun intended)

Author’s Note: Ah, can you smell Christmas in the air already? Cause I can! Anyway, this fic was written for @smol-and-grumpy ‘s SuperFriends Title Challenge, The One With The Friends With Benefits, and @janicho88 100 Followers Supernatural Christmas Celebration with, of course, Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. These both kind of morphed into the same idea so I decided to combine them. I hope you guys enjoy xoxo and a very Merry Christmas -Alex

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Let your heart be light

From now on

Our troubles will be out of sight

Across the small town, snow covered the streets of Lawrence, Kansas, the massive, fluffy flakes continuing to fall as the street lights came on that evening. The town was quiet, the blanket of snow muffling the ambient sound in the winter evening. Just south of downtown sat the city’s one modest fire station. The golden brick building was glittering with red and white twinkle lights, the glow lighting up the street for a few feet in either direction. Music could be heard bumping on the sidewalk from inside the building, its inhabitants sure to be enjoying their company Christmas party.

Inside, the common room was filled to the brim with the entirety of the company and their loved ones. The kids were chasing each other around the bases of the fire poles. A few of the older ones knew enough to jump full force on the metal to pull open the chute at the top, entertaining the younger ones each time the plastic split open, their giggles chiming in with the festive holiday music the Captain had found in his playlists earlier that day.

Food and drink littered the expanse of the countertops. Anything one could have been craving was set out for the group to enjoy. Dean was pouring himself a soda since this was his year to be on shift during the party and he had to behave. The fireman had grumbled about it when he stopped by his best friend’s apartment to drop off the ingredients for her taco dip. The taco dip she had only agreed to make for him if he purchased the product. After all, the woman had already made a few dozen sugar cookies for the festivities as her own contribution this year. She politely reminded him then that he could get as pissed as he wanted next year. Not that her words much appeased the Winchester.

The first responder turned to his buddy and coworker, who was filling another bowl with his famous chili, and held up the red plastic cup with a mock look of disgust, “What is the point of Coke if it doesn’t come with any Jack?”

“A suga’ rush?” The Cajun drawled in his signature accent. Dean snorted, bringing the cup to his lips when the object was snatched from his hand before the two could meet.

“Hey--” he spun on his heel, coming to face to face with his best friend. Her eyes were narrowed as she looked over the rim of the cup at him. “Come on, you don’t want that, there’s no rum.”

“Sure,” the woman wet her lower lip before taking a sip of the soda that Dean had poured for himself.

“Satisfied?” He quirked an eyebrow at her, holding out his hand for his drink back.

“For now,” she admonished. “But I’m watching you, Winchester.”

“That’s hurtful, Y/n/n.” Dean placed his hand over his heart, giving his friend the puppy dog look that he had learned from his little brother. A peak of a smile tugged on the corners of her lips as she looked at him before it faltered once again. Finally, she relented and gave the drink back to its rightful owner.

“I’d say more like rightfully cautious,” the other firefighter chimed in on their conversation, earning an elated grin from the woman standing across from him. Y/n clapped her hands together like a child, her tongue peeking between her teeth as she bounced on her toes. Placing his arm over Dean’s shoulder, Benny added, “Right, Dean-o?”

“You two are incorrigible,” Dean lamented, shrugging his friend’s arm away from him. The pair laughed at Dean’s irritation as Y/n scooted her way in between Dean and the drink table.

Dean internally cringed as Benny chose then to walk away, leaving the two friends alone for the first time that evening. The thing was, the air between the two friends was actually colder than the snow that blanketed the town outside the fire station. He knew that Y/n was putting on a show for everyone in the station since she couldn’t get out of going to the party last minute, which he also knows she would have preferred. The woman was as much a part of their work-family as she was her own family. That was what happened when best friends were joined at the hip for over fifteen years. There was no way she was getting out of going without raising suspicion, and Y/n was too private of a person to deal with answering questions that her absence would have surely raised.

As much as people like to think they know the real woman, she only has ever fully opened up to two people in her life, her mother and Dean. No one else has ever stuck around long enough to try and break down that wall that she had put up around herself. If Dean wasn’t just as stubborn as her he might have stopped trying a long time ago, but he was determined to get to know the real woman no matter how hard she seemed to try to stop him.

In the grand scheme of things, he supposes that’s is why it was so easy for them to fall into their friends with benefits relationship. One post-breakup, alcohol-fueled night in bed together two years ago had begun the whole thing. It didn’t take them long after they woke the next morning to realize the cliche arrangement could be just what both of them needed. Even still, Dean could count on his hands how many times in total they had spent in the other’s bed.

The most recent of which just happened to be last night. Dean had stopped by with dinner for his friend and the ingredients for the dip he had conned her into making. A few glasses of wine later, as it usually did go, and the two of them enjoyed their time together. But it wasn’t the sex that was the problem, it was the conversation after.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Make the yuletide gay

From now on

Our troubles will be miles away

Dean ran a hand through his sweaty hair as Y/n climbed from the bed in search of her strewn articles of clothing. She picked up the various garments, throwing them in her hamper as she passed by it and into her ensuite bathroom.

“Why are you so quiet?” Dean’s voice carried across the room and over the sound of the shower starting. He pulled himself out of the bed and slipped on his boxer briefs as he followed after her.

The woman bit her tongue as she tested the temperature of the water. It was only a matter of time before Dean caught on to her charade. Some days she hates how well he knows her. It’s not that she wants to keep secrets from her best friend but it can be downright creepy when he basically reads her mind. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” he questioned, stepping into the bathroom as she climbed into the shower.

“How to tell you something,”

“Alright, you’re kind of scaring me, Y/n/n,”

Allowing the hot water to cascade down her face and body, Y/n took a deep breath before choosing to answer him, “It’s Sean.”

“As in douchebag Sean?”

“Dean, do you have to call him that?” she sighed, having already expected this reaction from him.

“Yes, because he is one. You know what, douchebag is the nicest thing I could be calling him right now,” Dean countered, leaning against the bathroom vanity, his arms crossing over his freckled chest at the mention of that prick’s name.

“He wants to get coffee,” her voice was low, knowing her admission was about to rile up the man on the other side of the curtain. She wasn’t even sure he had heard at first, that was until he whipped the curtain open.

“What?!”

“Jesus!” Instinctively, her hands flew to protect her modesty as her heart tried to escape from her chest. “Dean, what the hell?”

“I could say the same thing to you! Do you not remember what that jackhole put you through over the last year, because I do. He doesn’t deserve a second of your time.”

“You think I don’t know that? It’s just coffee, he didn’t ask me to move in with him?” Y/n spit back, her stance relaxing along with her heart.

“But you and I both know that all it takes is one look at those blue eyes and you’ll be putty in his hands. You can’t go.” The way the last three words came out of his mouth, the definitive tone behind, it them was enough to get her blood boiling underneath her skin.

“Oh, I can’t? Is that an order, Lieutenant?” The title rolled off her tongue, her eyes hardening as she stared at Dean. “Last time I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“You know that’s not what this is. Y/n/n, I only want what’s best for you. I don’t want to see him screw up your life again. I was there to pick up the pieces last time and I don’t want to do it again.”

“Well I can guarantee you won’t ever have to do it again,” her voice was low, her words steady even though her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“You know that’s --”

“Get out!” she commanded suddenly, stopping him before he could say anything else. Her eyes scrunched closed, willing herself to not look at her closest friend, the one person she was supposed to be able to count on as he let her down.

“Y/n,”

“I said get out!”

Here we are as in olden days

Happy golden days of yore

Faithful friends who are dear to us

Gather near to us, once more

That was the last time the two of them said anything to each other until she walked into the fire station a little over two hours ago. He had to give it to her, she was putting on a good show, even messing around with him like usual. But he could see the truth in her eyes when she looked at him. Y/n was pissed, but most of all, she was hurt.

Dean turned around, leaning against the counter to face her. The woman didn’t acknowledge his presence, instead choose to continue with preparing herself a drink, one with a bit more whiskey than needed, but he wasn’t going to comment on that. “I’m glad you are here,” he tried instead.

“Well, I haven’t seen Sam and Jessica and the kids in a while, I wasn’t going to miss out on that because you are an ass,” she noted, still choosing to not look at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No, you never do, do you?” She swallowed thickly, turning on Dean, the flicker of a flame telling the experienced first responder it was best not to stoke the fire. The two of them stared at each other for what felt like minutes to them, when in reality, it was merely a few seconds, the bubble they were in being popped by Dean’s niece running and crashing herself into his legs.

“Uncle Dean!” She cheered, reaching up with her short arms as he bent down to pick her up. He situated the little girl on his hip as she squealed in delight. “Can I have another cookie?” Her tone dropped, the small child looking up at her only uncle from underneath her insanely long lashes.

“How many is that now?” He asked her, the glint of a smirk on his face.

“Uh… two,” she held up two fingers, her argument completely unconvincing.

“Uhhuh, I bet,” Dean grumbled, but he knew in his heart he couldn’t say no to that face. “Okay, one more cookie, but you can’t tell on me to you Daddy. He thinks sugar is for suckers.”

“Promise.” The little girl held up her pinky to her uncle, one of the first things he ever taught the kid because he knew he was a sucker from day one and he was not trying to get into trouble with his little brother over it. Even if it never worked to his advantage.

Dean held up his pinky and wrapped it around hers. He shrugged to Y/n before taking his niece over to the sweets table. In reality, Dean knew the conversation needed to be over, it wasn’t the time or place, but if there was one thing he hated more than anything it was fighting with Y/n. It felt like a piece of him was missing when he couldn’t talk to her or see her, and if he was being honest with himself that kind of scared him. When he became so codependent on her he couldn’t be sure. It just felt like she had always been there, and always should be, right by his side.

Clara tried to steal a second cookie as Dean helped her pick out the first, but he knew he would be in it if he let her get away with that one, so he made sure it got put back. When he turned around to set the five-year-old down, he noticed Y/n was gone. He scanned the whole room and couldn’t find her anywhere in the mix of people.

As suspected, the little girl rushed right to her Daddy, who scowled at his brother. Dean offered a shrug and a smirk as he made his way over to Sam. “Don’t you start with me too.”

“Oh, it’s not me you have to answer to, it’s Jess because she’s the one that has to put her down tonight.”

“Eh, she’ll forgive me, I’m her favorite brother-in-law,” Dean waved off his brother.

“You’re her only brother-in-law.”

“Whatever. Did you see where Y/n went?”

Sam crossed his arms, his brows rising on his forehead, “Looked like she was headed outside.” Dean pursed his lips, two small dimples forming at the corners. “Did you two fight?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, but you are all brooding and pensive right now,” Sam moved his hand in a flourish in front of Dean as he spoke.

“Really?”

“Yeah, what’s going on with you two?” The taller brother pushed for Dean to talk, and he pondered his pros and cons of answering.

“Sean wants to have coffee with her?” Dean said, nonchalant.

“And?”

“And the guy is a dick, she deserves better.”

“Better? Like you?” Sam tried to hide the amusement from his features as Dean whipped his head from where he was staring at the door to his little brother.

“What?” Dean’s voice rose an octave at his brother’s question.

“Oh come on, I know you guys have been sleeping together for a while now.”

“Sam, it’s not what you think,” Dean sighed before running his tongue over his bottom lip. “It’s only happened a handful of times.”

“And?” Sam shook his head, trying to convey his meaning to his brother. “Listen, you guys have known each other for longer than I’ve known Jessica. You spend all your free time together. You are basically a couple which I would say without the sex but we all know you are doing that too, so basically a couple. Why can’t you just man up and tell her how you feel?”

“Cause I don’t know how I feel? It’s never felt like a relationship with her. It’s just always been easy.”

“That’s how it should be, Dean. The two of you are perfect for each other. I think you owe it yourselves to at least try.” Sam urged.

“And what if it all blows up?”

“What if it all works out?” Sam countered. “Every relationship is either going to end in forever or end in a breakup, but that doesn’t mean that you just don’t try. Take the leap, Dean.”

“I hate you, you know that,” Dean grimaced, knowing that his brother was right. While he had never thought of Y/n like that before they slept together the first time, he couldn’t ignore the chemistry they had together. She was his other half, he already admits to that, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t amazing sex. Sam was right, how would admitting anything be different than how they already lived their lives together?

“Yeah, well, I’ll say I told you so at your wedding,” Sam clapped his older brother’s shoulder before running off after his toddler. Dean glared after his brother, he hated when he was right, mostly because Sam loved to say ‘I told you so’.

Through the years

We all will be together

If the fates allow

Hang a shining star

Upon the highest bough

The firefighter stalked off towards his locker to grab his jacket before following out the doors that lead to the side of the firehouse. If Y/n went out, that’s where she would be, sulking in the shadows. Cold air swirled in to replace the heat from inside as he opened the door, the rush of it sending a chill through his body. He zipped up the coat as he went down the few stairs, finding her sitting there on the stoop.

“Dean, I don’t want to talk about it,” She sighed when she looked up to see it was him that had followed her.

“Then just listen?” He quirked one brow at her, waiting for her invitation before taking a seat next to her. “I know that you are hurting and I wanted to start by saying I’m sorry. It was never my intent to hurt you.”

“I know that.”

“I just… I can’t stand seeing you so down. Sean hurt you badly and I didn’t want you to allow him to do it again. You deserve so much more than that.” Dean pulled his arms in closer to his body as the chill of the night set into his bones and the snow continued to fall around them.

“It was just coffee Dean, not a marriage proposal.”

“Yeah, and I hate that even more,” Y/n looked up then, confusion written all over her features. “Y/n you know that you are the most important thing in my life, next to my brother. Hell, most times you outrank him. When we fight, or you go out of town, it’s like there is a piece of myself missing, I have this hole in my chest that only you can fill. I guess I never really understood what that meant in the grand scheme of things.”

“Dean,”

“You know I love you right?” He cut her off.

“Of course I do. I love you too,” The word rolled off the tip of her tongue like honey. Like it was the most simple thing in the world. Because she did love him, and she had for as long as she’d known the eldest Winchester.

“But Y/n/n, I think I’m in love with you,” Dean held her gaze, his amber green eyes searching hers for the words she had yet to utter. The girl across from him could feel her chest filling with emotion, the confession by her favorite firefighter igniting something long dormant inside her.

“You do?” Tears were threatening to overflow her eyelids, the feeling inside her needing to escape somewhere. She wasn’t in control anymore, her voice cracking with her words.

“I do,” he nodded, affirming his words to himself as well as her. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I just thought that maybe we could give us a chance.”

“Us?” Dean nodded, at a loss for what she was thinking for the first time in a long time. “I like the sound of that, us.” Y/n repeated the words with a snort, a coy smile upturning one side of her mouth. Dean’s breath hung in the air as he waited for her to continue.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, Winchester.” The woman shook her head as he sighed, his body visibly relaxing next to her. Dean took his hand out of his jacket pocket, cupping her cold cheek in its warmth. A bright smile lit up her face as he ran his thumb over her reddened nose and down over her bottom lip. “Just kiss me already.”

“Is that an order?” He threw her words back at her, earning a fist to the chest. Her nose scrunched up as she playfully scowled at him. Dean felt her fingers wrap around the lapels of his jacket before she was pulling him to her, their lips meeting in the middle. Both of them were hesitant, this being their first kiss that wasn’t alcohol-fueled or rushed. Dean opened his mouth to her just as the alarm inside the firehouse sounded sending the two of them apart as if they had been electrocuted.

“I’ve gotta go,” Dean silently cursed the universe’s timing.

“Go save lives,” she patted down his jacket against his chest as her fingers unraveled themselves from the material. Dean pecked her chilled nose before getting up and running to the door, pausing as he pulled it open to turn back to her.

“Wait for me?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

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obaby-me · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, uh feel free to ignore this but, could I have some headcanons on how the brothers react to an MC with really bad depression but it’s hard to spot? Like, they’re a really sweet cinnamon roll and always putting everyone before them and loves talking about anime, books, cats, music, and anything else they like. It’s hard to spot but the more time they spend with them the more the little details show, like how they never finish a meal(pt 1)

Author’s Note: No need to apologize. Really, you just handed me a bunch of starter sentences.

Lucifer

“I’m used to it,” you said with a smile.

There was nothing to smile about.

Lucifer had this whole evening planned out for the two of you. A night out at one of the finest restaurants in the Devildom, a special bottle on reserve for the two of you. He’d been prepared to take you to the skies tonight, to see the meteor shower up close tonight, and have you make wish after wish tonight.

You had been so excited for the shower. You told him of the human custom of wishing upon shooting stars over a month ago and the minute he knew the shower was coming, he made positively sure to clear his schedule for it. And yours as well.

But he’d had to break them. Diavolo had requested his presence on an emergency and he couldn’t say no. You knew that. He knew that.

And when he broke the news, while he knew you’d be understanding, he had expected at least some disappointment, maybe even tears.

He’d been prepared for that.

“The things happen all the time,” you assure him, giving him a smile. “I’ve learned to accept that. Plans are always more likely than not to be cancelled. I’ve learned not to keep such expectations.”

Lucifer felt guilt well up inside him. “My sincere apologies,” he said once again. “I did not realize I had made it such a habit to put you aside like this. I will make it up to you,” he promised.

“Oh, it’s not you,” you told him waving away his concern. “Everyone does it. It’s okay, really!” To emphasize your point, you continued, “One time, for my birthday, we were going to go to this giant indoor waterpark. But mother sort of forgot and took the family car for the day to a friend’s place. We had to cancel.”

And you laughed. You laughed and Lucifer knew that something was deeply wrong. Wrong with the people around you to treat you with such disrespect to put you aside for the most menial and selfish of reasons; and wrong with you to believe it as acceptable.

Lucifer would have to correct that. While in this particular case, because it was an absolute emergency, for the future, he made sure to keep a perfect record: every plan he made, he kept—and always perfectly on time. Nothing but Diavolo emergencies, real emergencies, could deter him. If it meant sleepless nights in preparation, or sending a brother in his stead, he would suffer it. And he made sure each brother kept their promises as well. Punishments became extremely severe should they be late when attending to you or in skipping any plans to you.

You had to know you were worth the time promised to you.

Mammon

“My church always did say I was going to hell,” you chuckled in response to Mammon when he officially, and drunkenly, proclaimed you “one of us!”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, slinging an arm around your neck and giggling drunkenly into you. “What for, troublemaker?”

“For being bi.”

Mammon gave a small snort, and waited for the rest of your list, but apparently, that was the end of your list. Or maybe he missed it. His head was spinning rather terribly. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Mammon laughed loudly in response, his grip on your shoulders pulling you to sway with him as the two of you walked towards the House of Lamentation. “Love ain’t a reason to be sent to hell!” What a ridiculous concept. Love wasn’t a sin, in fact, it was a kind of virtue.

You gave him a smile, smaller than you should for a night like this. Did you not believe him?

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound as sober as possible despite his drunken state. He figured it’d help if maybe he stopped walking to do so. “We really don’t judge that here,” he said. “Ya ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that.”

“I know,” you said as you tried to get him moving again.

“No, ya don’t. Ya lookin’ all sad. About bein’ bi. Ya ain’t gotta be sad ‘bout that.”

“I’m not sad that I’m bi,” you clarify.

“Ya look sad,” he insisted.

You giggled slightly in return, and he just knew the words in your brain were something emasculating, like ‘cute.’

“On the contrary, I’m happy. I’m happy you don’t mind.”

Mammon laid his head against you. “Course I don’t. They shouldn’t either.”

“Well, they do.”

“Well, I don’t. And I’m here. And they’re not.”

You gave a small laugh as he blearily babbled on about how he intended to protect you from such people, from such things. You needn’t worry about a thing with him around, he assured you.

Leviathan

“I can relate.”

“To... this?” Levi asked with some surprise, eyes averting from the screen to you cuddled into his side.

You gave a small nod, unexpressive as you watched the protagonist, having lost his match against his rival, defeatedly monologue his own existential crises to the audience. Was all their efforts for nothing? What was the point of trying for more when clearly their dreams would never be realized?

Levi was quiet for a time, watching as the hero wallow in himself, waiting for the inevitable turn around, where the hero finds the answers to his question, finds his inspiration and resolve to keep them going.

But it didn’t come, not by the end of the episode.

Offended, Levi began a tirade of criticisms for regarding the episode, his worries not for the hero despite the context—but rather, for you.

For the next week he searches for anime and manga that center around the same themes, making sure the episodes and chapters that would bring the answers and conclusions necessary were available.

You had to read them.

You had to know.

Satan

“I think I was raised by a cult,” you murmured quietly.

Satan peered over his book at you, the air of silence you two had been enjoying while you read side by side broken by the most unexpected sentence.

He had many questions, but the first to make it out of his mouth was, “what?”

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly for having broken his concentration.

“A cult?” Satan continued, curious as to where this was going. “What kind of cult?”

“I was raised to think I was my dad’s property and that to go against my parents was to go against God.” You explained quietly, embarrassed to be speaking about this topic at all. But you had been the one to bring it up, albeit by accident—your mouth converting thoughts to your external voice rather than internal.

“Not an entirely novel concept for the middle ages. Have to say I’m surprised it’s managed to stick around,” Satan responded with a frown, closing his book carefully, a marker set into place to save it.

“Do you believe that to be true?” He asked.

You shook your head. He felt relief wash over him.

“But sometimes I still feel that, sort of, guilt, you know?”

Satan shifted so that he could get his arms around you, laying himself gently against you. “I imagine it would be difficult a feeling to unlearn.”

You said nothing in return, but quietly put some of your weight against him in acceptance of his affection.

“You don’t belong to anyone. You have every right to your own choices, no matter how your parents feel.” Satan murmured reminders into you. You knew these things, but to hear it felt reassuring.

It became a running theme that when asking you out for a date, Satan would ask or simply surprise you with, “something you’ve always wanted to do that you’re parents would absolutely hate.”

Asmodeus

“My dad’s always saying how fat I am,” you explained as you decline Asmo’s offering of his parfait.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Asmo asked with a tilt of his head.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat across from him and give a small noise that he thought you thought were words, but were entirely unintelligible once it hit the air.

“What was that, darling?”

“I said, I just don’t think I should have any.”

“Are you on a diet?”

“I mean, I should be.” You fidgeted in your seat, refusing to look Asmo in the eye. This was supposed to be a happy occasion: a special date he’d planned for the two of you out on the town trying all the most wonderful trendy treats the season had to offer.

“What do you mean you should be?”

“Well, my dad—“

Your dad, again? Why did his opinion matter to you so much? Especially when that opinion was just so wrong?

“Your dad has no right to say anything about your beautiful body, love!” Asmo protested. “If you want to diet, honey, we can go on one together. But don’t you dare say no to this parfait on account of your dad.”

For the rest of the day, and on into the evening, Asmo laid his compliments thick, and showered you with the attention your lovely body deserves.

Beelzebub

“I’m just not that hungry.”

“You said that at lunch too. And at breakfast.”

It wasn’t entirely unusual for you to skip a meal now and again. Sometimes, you just weren’t hungry after spending two hours snacking on gummies and popcorn in Levi’s room while marathoning TSL. Technically not a meal, but at least you had something in your stomach. Sometimes you were just too focused on a task that you’d forget the time all together.

But today you’d had nothing at all while holed away in your room. The few times he’d passed by, you laid curled on your side, scrolling through your phone.

A growl erupted in the room, and it wasn’t Beel’s. Your stomach was calling you out as a liar—outing you to the Avatar of Hunger incarnate.

“You should eat. I’ll pick something up for you.”

“I’m really not up to eating anything today.”

“Are you ill?”

“No,” you responded, turning your face away, as if ashamed to even look at him.

“You need to eat,” he insisted.

“I don’t want to.”

The question of why didn’t need to be asked. He only need to stare at you expectantly until you’d cave under his gaze.

“I don’t feel well,” you grumbled, contradicting yourself.

“Is it a cold? Satan does say you starve a cold and feed a fever.” He paused a moment. “Or was it the other way around?“ Beel asked himself, trying to recall the last time he and had his brothers had gotten sick. It had been centuries ago. (And it had been a disaster of each one getting sick after the other, passing it around.)

“It’s not that kind of sick.” You mumbled softly. “It’s not a body sick. It’s just... a...” You sunk further into the cocoon of your covers looking miserable. An unusual look for you.

“Sad sick?”

Not quite the way you’d put it, but it was apt enough for youYou didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Beel quietly joined you on your bed, wrapping his arms around your comforter wrapped form and tugging you close. He’d feed you later, he’d hug you now.

Belphegor

“My needs don’t matter.”

“They do,” came Belphie’s immediate response—cutting in a way that felt dangerous, frightening: an end to the sentence, to the thought. His eyes were stern and you shivered beneath his gaze, having both been caught off guard by how quick his response had been, and how angry it had been.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered in response, feeling guilty that you had upset him, to have ruined the lovely moment you two had been having.

Arms wrapped around you as Belphie pulled you against him. He shifted from sitting beside you, to wrapping himself around you, trapping you between his legs and his arms. “Don’t say it again. Don’t think it.”

Easier said than done, he knew that. “Belphie, it’s okay—“

“It’s not.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, an automatic response.

“You matter,” Belphie said, his head dropped into your shoulder and neck as he curled tighter around you. “You matter to me. If you need something, you should ask it. I’ll give it to you. I’d give you everything.”

There was quiet as you thought the statement over. “I just don’t want to be a bothe-“

“You’re not.” Belphie pre-emptively answered. “You could never be. Ask me. Ask anything of me. I gave myself to you, didn’t I?”

You thought yourself so little, so unimportant, but to Belphie you were so significant, so important, so beloved—and to have you not recognize that was as disrespectful to yourself as it was to him.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon #ouch #my heart #it's gonna be okay anon #i hope these make you feel better

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years ago

Text

philia

n. a love between friends; based on mutual respect, common values, shared desires, and unwavering trust

Words: 2.5k Relationship: Sasha James & Tim Stoker, past Sasha James/Tim Stoker Tags: Light Angst, Canon Compliant, Aromantic Sasha James, Lovers to Friends, Awkward Conversations Warnings: internalized arophobia (throughout), fear of arophobia from another character (doesn’t actually occur)

|| Ao3 ||

If one thing could be said about Sasha James, it’s this: she doesn’t scare easy. All the traditional spooks—spiders and the dark and heights and everything in between—don’t send her heart racing like they did some of her childhood friends, and when she was old enough to go to the library by herself, she slowly and methodically worked her way through the meager horror section at her disposal. She liked the way that the fear tasted, metallic in her mouth and sending gooseflesh tingling across her arms and lips, and even when she landed on a book or a movie that pushed her beyond her limits for terror, she found that she couldn’t look away, too immersed in the way that her hands shook as she turned the page.

Maybe that’s why she ended up at the Magnus Institute. When the horror began to feel stale, each story contrived beyond the point of enjoyment, where better to turn to than somewhere that collected horrors that were real?

Sasha lasted three months in Artifact Storage before she decided that she’d finally found her limit, and it was gold monocles that turned your sight inward and stainless steel knives that leaked briny blood and a chalkboard eraser that could peel the skin clean off your face with a single stroke. Her brand of horror lay in stories, not in things, she decided then. In stories, at least, the fear was contained.

The problem, though, is that it’s easy to not be afraid of stories. Even if they’re real ones, told by real people, they’re still just stories, and so Sasha can separate herself from them, lock them away in the Institute at night and return to the more mundane horrors of her television screen or her bookshelf. It’s much, much harder to not be afraid of the things she can’t escape.

Sasha James doesn’t scare easy. But when she walks into the Institute on Monday morning and sees Timothy Stoker sitting at his desk, positioned opposite to hers and in the perfect location for mid-day glances and snippets of conversation, her heart jumps into her throat so fast she thinks she might choke on it.

Sasha puts on her headphones, sits down at her desk, and doesn’t let her eyes stray from her computer screen for the rest of the day.

And the next.

Fear is a funny thing, she thinks as she stands in the shower that Friday night, letting the water drum against the back of her skull and trying to figure out why even after fifteen minutes of standing in the scalding spray, her skin still itches with unseen dirt that she can’t quite rid herself of. It can spur people to go to lengths they never thought imaginable. Like Gregory Chavez, who found he could run nearly two miles at a dead sprint when chased by a thing that had once been his son but that now craved nothing but blood and terror. Or Biah Wynn, who found it within herself to burn her family home to the ground with her brother still inside when a sharp-tongued thing from her dreams told her to.

Or Sasha James, who’s been avoiding her best friend for a week because she had sex with him and now can’t bring herself to admit that it was a mistake. Or, more accurately, to admit why it was a mistake.

Tim probably hates me now, she thinks as she tips her head back and lets the water run over her eyelids, holding her breath as it trickles over her closed lips and hits her arms where they’re crossed over her chest in a protective gesture. And he’d be right to. I kind of hate me now.

Sasha turns the shower off, laments for a moment the state of her water bill for that month, and readies herself for bed.

She allows herself to continue this way for two more days before the voice in her head manages to convince her that don’t ruin a good thing is becoming more and more of an impossibility the longer she ignores the inevitably awkward conversation that they need to have. Her resolve finally breaks through the sharp static of fear Monday evening, when Tim pushes back from his desk and Sasha says, breaking the silence with all the grace of a battering ram, “Fancy a cuppa?”

Timothy Stoker doesn’t startle easy. At the sound of Sasha’s voice, however, he jumps so badly that the file folder he’d been preparing to stow away slips from his hands, spilling loose pages on the ivory tile floor in a mess of white paper and black ink.

“Jesus,” Tim says, bending down to collect the papers. His eyes are cast firmly on the ground when he says, voice tight, “A little warning next time before you decide to break a week-long vow of silence?”

Sasha’s wince is full-body. “Sorry,” she says, trying and failing to impart a week’s worth of apologies into a single word. Then, with forced levity: “Permission to speak again?”

Tim’s quiet for a little too long. He’s collected all the papers and they sit limply in his hands as his eyes trace the lines between the tiles, lips curled down into a pained expression that Sasha hates, though she knows it’s nobody’s fault but her own. Then, quietly, he says, “I don’t know, Sasha. Maybe a week ago, the answer would have been yes? But I… I don’t know if I feel like talking now.”

Thorns of Sasha’s own design dig into her heart and claw up her throat, and she fixes her eyes on the surface of her desk. It’s full of yellow post-it notes she doesn’t remember writing and approximately twenty stray pens and pencils and a million other things that are far, far less important than the man still squatting on the floor next to her, pretending to organize the papers in his hand.

“Okay,” she says, and the word bites into her tongue with razor-sharp teeth. Then, even though she said she wouldn’t, she says, “I’m sorry, Tim. And I want to explain, if you’d let me.”

Please let me.

Tim looks at her, just once, and the hurt in his eyes cuts into Sasha like broken glass. “I… I just need some time,” he says, like Sasha hasn’t given him too much of that already, like she hasn’t already had the thought of I just need more time, more time to figure this out running through her head for days.

“Okay,” she repeats. The smile she musters up feels hollow, too full of hope to hold up to scrutiny.

“Okay,” Tim says.

Tim leaves. And Sasha works late, if only to give her mind something to do that isn’t wallowing in guilt and self-pity.

She works late Tuesday, too. And Wednesday and Thursday. Then, as her computer blinks 17:00 on Friday and she flips open another file, she hears from behind her a quietly amused, “You’re turning into Jon, you know.”

If asked later, Sasha will maintain that she didn’t startle at the sound of Tim’s voice. The file, at least, stays firmly clasped in her hand, though she sets it down before turning in her chair to see Tim standing a few feet away, jacket slung over one arm and hesitance written all over his face even as his mouth forms a teasing smile.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Sasha says, aiming for levity and coming close enough for it to count. “I don’t have nearly enough grey in my hair for that yet. Besides, you know I can’t pull off a sweater vest.”

“Not with that attitude, you can’t.”

Sasha smiles fully, letting tendrils of humor pull the corners of her mouth up toward her eyes, and the lines of tension in Tim’s face begin to smooth. The hesitance is still there, the hurt lying just beneath, but it feels a lot less like a wall and a lot more like a locked door. She just hopes that Tim still trusts her enough to give her the key.

“Fancy a cuppa?” he says.

They pick a little tea shop a few blocks away from the Institute, open later than the rest and with prices that only make Sasha wince a little bit as she orders a cup of jasmine green tea and then sits at a little corner table across from Tim, away from the hum of the rest of the café. He wraps his hands around his mug of Darjeeling, looks at Sasha, and says, “Is this the part where you say, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’?”

Sasha winces and takes a long sip of her too-hot tea to cover it up. When she pulls back, the roof of her mouth thoroughly scalded, she says, “In… a manner of speaking.”

It’s Tim’s turn to wince, though he doesn’t bury it in his tea, instead painting over it quickly with a mask that’s not so thick that Sasha can’t still see the hurt that lies beneath. “Right,” he says, and the little laugh that escapes him is entirely devoid of humor. “Guess that’s it, then. Nice and succinct—don’t know why it gets such a bad rap in rom-coms, to be honest.”

The guilt is burning its way up Sasha’s throat, hot and sticky. It’s a struggle to force herself to speak around it, but she does, because it’s important. Because it matters. Because she’s not going to lose her best friend just because she’s afraid. So, she swallows the lump in her throat just enough to say, “It’s not because I don’t want to be in a relationship with you, Tim; it’s because I don’t want to be in a relationship at all. A… a romantic one, at least.”

Tim doesn’t say anything at first, and though Sasha knows he’s just taking the time to parse her words, to understand what she’s trying to tell him—he’s ace, he told her before they… before, so he’ll know what she means—she can’t keep the anxiety from clawing up the back of her throat with acid-dipped nails. She takes a drink of her tea, and then another, until she’s staring at the bottom of her mug with her heart thrumming in the back of her throat. The sound of her own pulse in her ears is so loud that she almost doesn’t hear Tim when he says, quietly, “I’m sorry, Sasha.”

Sasha sets her mug down hard enough to chip, surprise and guilt turning her blood to liquid nitrogen and her muscles to ice. “No, please- please don’t apologize, Tim, I should be the one who- I should have told you sooner instead of- of leading you on when I was never going to reciprocate. And then you told me you were ace and I- I still didn’t say anything because- because—”

Sasha waves her now-free hand in the air wildly, grasping for a reason that just won’t come. Finally, for want of anything better, she lands on, “Because I somehow thought that was going to be the thing that you’d hate me for instead of for how I’ve been acting all week.” She deflates, ever so slightly, and says, “I am so, so sorry, Tim.”

She affixes her eyes to the table, to the spiraling wood grains that trace lines across its surface, and doesn’t let go. She can think of a million expressions Tim might be wearing right now, ranging from guilt to sympathy to frustration to hurt, and she doesn’t want to see any of them.

A hand, warm and terra-cotta brown, settles on top of hers, and Tim says, “I meant that I’m sorry for assuming that the reason you were avoiding me was about me. I should have asked sooner, but I…” He lets out a small laugh. “I suppose I thought you hated me. That I’d done something—though I couldn’t figure out what—and now you never wanted to see me again. And then I- I made it about me. Got frustrated when you wanted to talk. Didn’t even consider that there might have been something else going on.”

“Why would you have?” Sasha says quietly, eyes still glued to the table. “I didn’t give you any indication that there was. I didn’t say anything.”

Tim hums, a sad sound, and says, “I suppose neither of us did.”

It’s quiet between them for a moment. In the interim, the sounds of the café filter in: the clank of cups against countertops, the hiss of steam as it spills free from stainless steel water heaters, the chatter of those around them who are lost in their own worlds of words and wants and wishes. Then, Tim’s hand tightens around Sasha’s, almost imperceptibly, and he says, “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”

Sasha finally looks up from the table. Tim’s watching her, his eyes full of an affection so sweet it tastes of melted caramels on Sasha’s tongue. “I’ve loved you in so many ways, Sasha James, in so many times and places and moments. And I’m not going to give them all up if one of those ways isn’t something that you want from me. I’ll just put that one aside and replace it with new ones.” Tim shrugs and smiles, and it’s so casual, so easy, that Sasha thinks she must be dreaming it. “If you don’t want to date, then we won’t. And that’s not going to make me love you any less.”

Sasha looks at Tim, trying to wrangle the tendrils of emotions within her into something beyond the electrifying, giddy happiness that she feels bubbling up in her chest. What comes out, in the end, is a small laugh and a quiet, “It’s that easy?”

Tim holds up a hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“Huh.” Sasha taps a finger against the edge of her mug, feeling the press of now-cool ceramic on her skin. The smile tugging at her lips is insistent enough that she finally just lets it slip free, uninhibited by shaking hands or acid claws or rapid-fire heartbeats. It’s still a nervous thing—a fawn just learning to walk, a baby bird pushed from its nest and struggling to unfurl its wings mid-freefall, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon with stained-glass wings and a life turned upon its head. It remains so for several weeks, through the still-awkward coffee runs and the times Sasha spends curled up on Tim’s couch with the space between them burning red-hot and icy-cold in equal measure and the staggering guilt that still returns as Sasha stands in the shower or lies in bed or walks through the doors to the Institute to see Tim sat at his desk, his smile growing wider each day.

Then one day Sasha reaches for it, almost absently—that nervous feeling, the almost-falling swoop of her stomach—and finds it gone. She reaches and instead finds Tim, standing in the kitchen of her flat with flour dusted on his nose and kneading a ball of bread dough as he regales her with a story of his first tried-and-failed attempt at making bread that involved not one, but two separate fire-alarm incidents. And when she smiles at him, it feels so light and freeing that a laugh comes with it, bubbly with surprise and affection.

She spreads stained-glass wings, strong enough now to carry her weight and beautiful in their own right, and lets the wind carry her home.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #aspecarchives #the magnus archives fic #tim stoker #sasha james #asexual tim stoker #aromantic sasha james #internalized arophobia //#my fic #my writing #looks like we're keeping this posting style! i think i like it a lot better.. more readable

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egcdeath · 4 years ago

Text

a blip in the reader-verse

chapter 4: going once, going twice

summary: you meet an interesting character while attending a charity auction.

warnings: soft moments, angsty moments. asshole ransom, soft ransom. you’ve been warned.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader, overarching steve rogers x reader

word count: 3.4k

author’s note: before anyone asks, i don’t really consider this cheating since it’s just steve in a different universe. but i’d skip this chapter if it won’t sit right with you!

p.s. i had to google translate some french, please don’t hate me if you speak french and it’s awful🥺

previous chapter / series masterlist

Sounds seemed to be the first thing you noticed as you entered a new universe. This was absolutely no different.

Well, except for the fact that the first sound you noticed was the announcing of your own name.

From the moment your eyes opened, you were met with a blinding yellow light, and the urge to stand up. You glanced over at the table that you’d previously been sat at, and received raised brows from Aaliyah, who’d been sitting at the white, round table across from you, along with a hand gesture that shoo-ed you away.

You timidly walked up to the small and raised platform of a stage, and stood next to a person who vaguely resembled your old boss from your main universe.

“Alright, ladies and gents! Our final lady of the night, well, not a lady of the night, is the gorgeous Y/N L/N! Starting at $1,000, do we have any takers?”

You looked out into the ocean of round tables, and watched a decently handsome man, with dark hair and a beard raise his paddle, “1,500!” he called out.

The man received a death glare from someone else at his table, and looked up at both the stage and you to raise his own paddle. “2,500,” he responded in a bored tone.

After getting over the extreme ego boost that was being bid over, you let yourself take a good look at the second man who’d offered the cash, and,

Holy shit.

It was Steve, but it definitely wasn’t Steve.

His hair was slightly darker, he was wearing a cream sweater and long, multicolored scarf that your Steve would never be caught dead in. He held an air of confidence and cockiness that you could see from miles away, and according to his bidding style, he was loaded.

After seeing him, you desperately wanted to find a mirror and find out if your own appearance had changed at all.

“Fine, $4,000,” the bearded man offered, glancing back and forth between you, and this alternate version of Steve.

“$5,000!” A new contestant jeered, this one a rather old man whom you could tell you wanted nothing to do with.

“Old fucking geezer,” the alternate Steve muttered. “$7,000.”

There was a gasp, and a silence throughout the audience.

“$7,000 for Hugh, going once, going-”

“15,” the bearded man lifted his paddle once again. You glanced over to Aaliyah, whose eyeballs seemed to be bulging out of her head at this.

“Fuck it, 30,” Hugh sighed.

The bearded man threw his hands up in defeat, and set his paddle all the way down on his table.

“45, final!” The old man called out.

“75,” Hugh glanced around the audience, a rather smug look on his face.

“Oh wow, $75,000 going once, going twice… sold to Mr. Hugh Drysdale! Miss L/N, is there something you’re not telling us about the nature of your date?” The auctioneer passed the microphone to you, and you laughed awkwardly into it.

“Nothing that I know of,” the rest of the crowd seemed to laugh with you at this, but you couldn’t help but feel the growing discomfort in your stomach.

“Well, I’m sure the folks over at One Mission will be very happy at this sizable donation. Can we get one more cheer for Miss L/N?” You gave a friendly wave before awkwardly stepping off the stage while the people around you clapped.

You’d had a decent idea at this point of what was going on, but you couldn’t quite piece together why this Hugh character had decided to bid so high on someone he’d never even met. You sat back down at your table, and slipped your phone out of your pocket to look at yourself. Yep, same you.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Aaliyah asked you, a mixture of confusion and excitement present in her tone.

“Hell if I know,” you sighed, and scratched your neck nervously.

“I mean, I get it, you’re hot. But the price of a luxury vehicle for a date? You’re gonna have to let him finger you at least,” she giggled.

“Shut up,” you groaned at the thought. You were still feeling pretty confused about the fact that the Steve in this universe wasn’t actually Steve at all. You so far, you’d only really met Steves that were well… Steve.

You internally lamented the situation, until you noticed someone plop down at the open seat at the table, causing you to turn and look at him.

“This seat taken?” Hugh asked, and you shook your head. “Great, now it is,” he quipped.

“I’ll give you two a moment. I’m gonna go find my own socialite,” Aaliyah bantered, slipping up from her chair and following through on her comment.

“So you must really love those kids you just donated to,” you awkwardly chuckled.

“Oh hell no. Fuck those kids. I just hate losing, and I absolutely was not gonna let those douchebags win,” he looked down at his hands and played with his pinky ring in an extremely bored manner.

“Oh, okay,” you nodded slowly. This man was a complete 180 to the type of Steve that you were used to. Your Steve was warm and caring, but this man seemed cold and apathetic. Your Steve would gladly lay his life on the line for anyone, and this man didn’t even seem to have the emotional capacity to hold the door for someone else. “So Hugh, what do you plan to do on our date?” You lifted up your glass of champagne and took a little sip.

“Call me Ransom, only the help call me Hugh. We’ll probably just go to Europe or something.”

You nearly spat out your drink at this. In fact, you felt a little carbonation in your nose. Then again, Ransom just spent ¾ of a hundred thousand on a date with you. “Jesus,” you murmured.

“Think you can head out tomorrow?”

----

Waking up in the bedroom of the apartment you seemed to share with Aaliyah taught you two things. One, you could apparently sleep in these universes and not wake up elsewhere, and two, the walls of your apartment were far too thin.

You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and noted the time. You had about an hour before you needed to be at the airport.

You quickly threw a mixture of clothing, a phone charger, a packet of birth control, and some skincare products into a suitcase before heading out to the kitchen to grab a granola bar. You chewed half the bar before hopping into the shower, then tossing on some ugly, but comfortable travelling clothes.

Maybe you spent a bit too long checking yourself in the mirror that morning with the newfound knowledge that you were now worth at least 75,000 dollars. Frankly, having multiple (attractive) men fight over you was the greatest boost to your pride that you’d ever been given.

Glancing down at your phone after the matter, you realized that you only had a few minutes to order an Uber to pick you up, unless you wanted to be late and miss your flight.

----

You had your baggage checked, stumbled through TSA, and showed the screenshot of your plane ticket a boatload of times to a multitude of people before you finally reached the lounge, and found Ransom sitting on a sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Why the hell are you dressed like that?” Ransom asked you as you approached, looking up and down at your outfit of a college sweatshirt and loose joggers.

“Because I want to be comfortable, you dick. Do rich people not like being comfortable?” You sat down beside him on the sofa, and slumped into the chair. Who knew travelling throughout the multiverse could be so tiring? “Besides, you have like seven holes in that sweater. I wouldn’t be talking about anyone else’s clothes if I gladly let moths have a four course meal on my things,” you scoffed.

That seemed to shut him up for a bit.

Eventually, your flight number was called, and you, along with the few other first class flyers piled into the plane.

You sat down next to Ransom in a soft chair that seemed to lower back into some sort of makeshift mattress, and slipped your phone out of your pocket to send your friends a message that you were taking off.

“You excited?” You asked Ransom while he began to slip a pair of Beats onto his head.

“Yeah, I like Nice,” he nodded, then grabbed his own phone to connect to the headphones.

“So you’ve been there before?” Ransom nodded, clearly trying to ignore you. “Do you have a plan on fun places to take me?” He shrugged.

You got the message, and huffed as you sat back in your seat. Right before takeoff, you received a message back from Aaliyah of a picture of her cat, and that was enough to bring a smile to your face.

——

About 7 hours into your flight, you noticed Ransom picking out a movie to watch, and you found the idea intriguing.

“What’cha watching?” You asked, leaning over a bit into his space.

“Nothing,” he said stiffly, and you rolled your eyes.

“Porn?” You joked, glancing up at him to see if it landed or not. It did not.

“You know what? You’re a lot prettier when you’re quiet.”

You slunk back into your seat at this and turned your head away from Ransom. The words really bit at you, considering that it sounded just like your Steve, and if you squinted enough, it looked like him too. But your Steve would never say something like that to you, right?

For a moment, you twisted the watch on your wrist consideringly, wondering if you should go to the next universe, where you might gain a little more respect from your partner. Yet something told you to wait it out. If this was still, in some convoluted way, Steve, he’d come around, right?

That alone gave you enough reason to stay.

----

You dragged your suitcase into a hotel room much too big for just two people after nearly 12 hours of an extremely awkward flight, and even more awkward cab ride to the hotel.

After plopping your things down into the bigger bedroom of the hotel, you stretched rather dramatically in hopes of waking up some of the stiff muscles in your body. In the midst of this, Ransom came up behind you, and set a hand on your back, scaring the life out of you.

“What the hell, Ransom! A knock or a ‘hello’ will do it next time!”

You turned to look at him, and became a bit flustered at his shirtless, short-clad figure. It was silly, because you’d seen Steve naked a million times before, and this was simply Steve in another universe.

“You coming to the spa with me?” He smirked as you blatantly checked him out. “Okay, yeah. You’re coming with me. I’ll meet you at the front door.”

You spent around an hour at the spa with Ransom, sweating yourself out in the sauna until you were likely majorly dehydrated, soaking in the heated pool until your skin became pruny and wrinkled, and ending the night with a massage that sent you straight to sleep.

Like, deep sleep. When you became even slightly conscious, Ransom was laying you in your pillowy soft bed. As your eyes opened the slightest bit at him, he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Pretending to sleep, how cute,” he muttered sarcastically. You’d argue with him, but you were simply too exhausted to do so. In fact, you were convinced you’d just given him a whole monologue about how travelling makes people tired, but the most that had exited your mouth was a tiny squeak.

You watched Ransom leave the room, before your head collapsed onto your shoulder, and you fell back into a nice rest.

When you awoke, it was not on your own will.

An overly saturated light attacked your eyes from behind your eyelids, and came all at once, snapping you out of your dreamless slumber. When you glanced over at the harsh source, you noticed none other than Ransom by your window, with a hand on the drape.

“Time to wake up. It’s like, 3 PM, by the way,” he huffed before exiting your room, not even allowing you to reply.

You groaned in annoyance, having an off handed thought about how jet lag was kicking your ass, before rolling out of bed and trying to find something nice to put on.

By the time you left your room, Ransom was standing by the door, aimlessly scrolling on his phone. “You wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure, I guess. I’m kinda hungry though, so maybe we can stop somewhere first?”

Ransom shrugged and gave you what seemed like the hint of a smile, and you hurried to put on your shoes before heading out.

——

The two of you ended up on the patio of some local restaurant, your eyes skimming the menu while Ransom took sips of his complimentary water.

What seemed to be out of nowhere, a burly man came rushing over to your table, and appeared to be approaching Ransom, as he turned his head to look at the man, then quickly looked away.

The man, who you could only assume to be the owner, clapped Ransom on the back, and in return, Ransom slumped over in embarrassment.

You were definitely going to enjoy this.

“Où étiez-vous?, Ranny?” Where have you been?

“Occupé, Henri.” Busy, Henri. Ransom clearly had a dark red blush on his face now, and he glanced at you as if you could offer him some sort of assistance.

“Trop occupé avec la dame?” Too busy with the lady? Henri asked with a smirk.

“No!”

“Présentez-moi à elle,” Introduce her to me.

Ransom sighed dramatically, then sat up from hunching, “Y/N, this is Henri. He’s a family friend,” you couldn’t help but notice how pleased Henri seemed, “Henri, this is Y/N, mon rendez-vous,” My date.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Henri extended a hand out to you and you gladly shook it. He turned back to Ransom, and continued grilling him. “Est-ce votre cavalier ou votre petite amie?” Is she your date or your girlfriend?

“Mon rendez-vous!” My date! You don’t think you’d ever seen anyone become this flustered so fast.

“Hey Henri,” you interrupted, feeling a tiny bit left out, “any way that we could order first, then you could come back here and tell me all the embarrassing stories about Ransom you can remember?”

“That sounds fun to me,” he shrugged.

——

During lunch, you’d learned more about Ransom than you ever knew you needed to know. In the midst of it all, you couldn’t help but to think about how different he was compared to your Steve. His parents were extremely wealthy (no surprise there), he went to boarding school in Nice (which explained his ability to speak French), and Ransom was a bit of an art nerd (perhaps some characteristics could transcend universes).

Surprisingly, he was starting to grow on you. Which was why you were far from opposed to his suggestion of going sight-seeing around the town.

The first stop you took wasn’t too far from the restaurant. A quaint little gift store with tiny knicknacks lining the shelves, and a relentless, old, orange cat who did not seem to want to leave Ransom alone.

“You should pet her, Ran,” you suggested, leaning down to do so yourself.

“First of all, don’t call me that. Second of all, if you pet her once, it’ll literally never stop,” He glanced over at you from where he was standing at a set of tourist-oriented keychains.

“Are you speaking from firsthand experience?” You grinned down at the cat who was now aggressively rubbing its head against your hand.

“Yes. Luis may seem nice, but one second you’re petting his head, and the next, you’re carrying him around the store, the whole time he’s whispering in your ear for you to buy more things.”

You were a bit taken aback at this, for a second concerned that the man you’d impulsively travelled to Europe with had a few screws loose, since he was apparently hearing local cats speak to him. That’s of course, when Ransom broke into laughter. It took you a second before you laughed a bit too.

“That was so weird, man. Don’t do that again,” you lightly punched his shoulder, then went to pick up Luis who was more than happy to be transported around like an infant.

After buying a nice mug and a postcard to give to Aaliyah once you returned home, and parting with Luis who seemed to feel a bit, you suggested hopping in a cab to visit one of the many art museums Nice had to offer.

After a bit of bickering in the backseat, the two of you compromised on the Modern and Contemporary Art museum, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit excited.

Around two hours post-arrival at the museum, you realized that, maybe modern art wasn’t exactly your thing. But it certainly was Ransom’s. He rambled on and on about different pieces that seemed completely mundane to you. Who knew that someone could talk for nearly half of an hour about a canvas painted completely one color?

You noted a shift in Ransom’s attitude towards you. It was clear that you were willing to put up with his little antics, and as the day went on, he began to let down more and more of the tough guy persona he’d had up for so long. To your Steve, at least, art was something that made him feel a bit vulnerable, and you figured that Ransom held the same sentiment. This thought made you feel vaguely homesick, and go in for a half-hug from Ransom, who gladly returned it while he shamelessly effused.

It wasn’t the same, but for you, it was good enough.

----

You very much enjoyed the rest of your day with Ransom, hopping from interesting site to interesting site with him, and sharing a multitude of fond memories that you hoped would stick with you throughout your inter-dimensional travels.

You ended the night with him on the piano bench in the lobby of your hotel. He wordlessly played a Chopin piece while you mindlessly listened. It was a rather relaxing experience, and quite the finale of your day. You had a bit of a nagging feeling that this was the finale of your time in this universe as well.

“Today was really nice,” out of nowhere, Ransom began.

You hummed in agreement, “it was.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have taken you to all my favorite places on day one, but oh well,” he half chuckled to himself, and you pulled back to look up at Ransom.

“You took me to your favorite places? That’s.. Wow. That’s really sweet,” you glanced down at the piano, then back up at Ransom. He gave you a soft smile in return.

This was the moment, right? The silence that followed that was your perfect opportunity to be kissed. Yet, Ransom wasn’t taking it. So you decided to lean forward slightly, and do it yourself. Catching onto what you were getting ready to do, Ransom moved away from you slightly, and shook his head.

“Hey, I don’t really do that,” Ransom looked down at you, and bit the inside of his lip.

Deep down, you knew that this was just a man who looked like your man rejecting you, but the less rational side of yourself only told you one thing.

Steve was rejecting you.

He was leaving you again, he wouldn’t even kiss you. The thought of it put you somewhere between seeing red, and seeing nothing at all from the tears that were now flooding your vision.

The one thing that had once convinced you to stay, was now begging you to leave.

You reached down to your watch, and fiddled aggressively with it. Part of you felt bad for leaving a version of yourself to deal with the awkward aftermath of what just occurred, but another part of you just wanted to get the hell away from all of the distressing emotions you were feeling.

That part of you seemed to be stronger than anything else. You glanced down at your watch, pressed the button on the side that you were told could make you leave, and let nature take its course after feeling the soft vibrations run throughout your arm.

next chapter

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #ABITRV

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rohad93 · 4 years ago

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Moonlit Masquerade: Fall Showers

Part 8 of the Moonlit Masquerade Series

She hears about it at the market on Monday after school.

Amity has to go home straight after school, so Luz teleports herself to the market, in no rush today to head straight home. She's browsing a stand, looking over an assortment of magical trinkets curiously when she happens to overhear two people standing nearby talking.

"So are you taking her to the 'fall shower' tomorrow night?" One asks.

"She'd never let me hear the end of it if I don't. It's the 'most romantic thing a couple can do together'," the other quotes, rolling his eyes.

Luz pays closer attention to those words.

"Girls are so sappy…," the first chuckles and they walk off.

Luz hums to herself and finishes her browsing before hurrying home to ask Eda about this 'fall shower'.

Her pseudo mom is strewn haphazardly across the couch with a magazine laying open over her face when she gets home.

"Hey, Eda!" she calls when she bursts through the door.

"What?" she grumbles, but otherwise doesn't move from the couch.

"What's the 'fall shower'?" she asks as she sets her bag on the floor by the door.

She reached up and pulled the magazine down to her nose to regard Luz with tired, dual-colored eyes.

"Where'd you hear about that?" she asks, voice muffled by the magazine still sitting halfway on her face.

"In town, some guys were talking about it being some big romantic thing," she says. Eda grunts, head lolling to the side to better look at her.

"Yeah, it's a couple… thing." She waved a hand, before pulling the magazine back up over her eyes.

"That didn't tell me anything…" Luz frowned at her.

"Go ask Lily." is the muffled reply.

"Ask me what?" Lilith chose that moment to walk into the living room, some books held under her arm.

"What's the ‘fall shower’?" Luz turns to her.

"Ahh, you heard about that." Lilith smiles, walking over to the couch and using the books to sweep Eda's feet out of the seat on the end to sit.

Eda grumbles, shooting her sister a dirty look as she sits up.

"The Fall Shower is a meteor shower that takes place around this time each year," Lilith explained as she arranged herself on the couch.

"So, what makes it so romantic?"

"The legend behind it is that long ago two lovers, kept apart by circumstance would meet under cover of night, only once a year to be together, and after many years of this, and watching it, the Titan was so moved by their dedication and love, that it made the very sky weep," she gladly explained while Eda rolled her eyes.

"It's a bunch of sappy gobble de gook," Eda gruffed but frowned when she saw Luz was looking at Lilith with wide, starry eyes.

"That sounds awesome!"

"It's a widely watched event by lovers all across the Isles. Specifically from the Eastern forest where the lovers were said to meet," Lilith finishes happily. Luz is always willing to listen and learn from her, which does do something for her ego and the teacher in her.

"You and Amity gonna go?" Eda asks, cocking her head curiously.

"Oh… I dunno…" luz hesitates.

"Why not?”

"We're together but we're not… ya know…," she says, waving a hand, cheeks pink. She finds it hard to say that word. Eda gives her a wicked grin.

"You love each other dont'cha?" She cocked her head, smirking "You're lovers." It took everything the owl lady had to keep a straight face as she said this, but it broke the second Luz began to turn crimson.

"That's not what the word…. 'lovers' implies, and you know it!" Luz squeaks, red-faced as she finally gets the word out. Eda threw her head back and laughed maniacally.

Sometimes she forgot that Luz was still pretty innocent by most counts.

"It's an event many couples go to, regardless of their… um, stage of relationship" Lilith tries to supply helpfully. "It's quite beautiful, I would recommend it."

"You've been?" Luz and Eda both ask, surprised.

Luz watches in fascination as the former coven leader's face tints pink.

"I have," she says.

"With who?" Eda is looking at her, grinning.

"Never you mind!" Lilith growls. "The point is, regardless of the state of your relationship, it's something worth seeing."

"I'll ask her tomorrow." Luz nods.

She picks up her bag and heads upstairs, listening to Eda prod at her sister.

"Come on, who was it?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"Was it that snot nose boy from the bard track you had the hots for?"

"Edalyn!"

Luz just laughs to herself.

Tuesday, she's sitting next to Amity in class and the teacher has stepped out to see to something, so Luz takes the opportunity to slide a note across the table to her.

Amity looks at the folded slip of paper with a cocked brow before looking up at her, but Luz is carefully not looking at her.

'You busy tonight?'

Her eyebrow arches higher at that.

'No, why?' she slides it back.

'Wanna go somewhere with me?' it reads when she's passed it back.

'Where?'

She can practically hear her girlfriend's wary tone in the written words and grins.

'The eastern forest.' she's being intentionally vague and Amity knows it.

"Why?" She finally just whispers and Luz shakes her head making a 'shhhing' motion and Amity makes an annoyed sound and simply pushes the paper back to her. Luz can sense she's quickly reaching the end of her girlfriend's patience for her game and jots down a reply before sliding it back.

'Want to go watch the 'fall shower' with me?'

Amity's head whips up to look at her with wide eyes the second she finishes processing the words on the paper, looking at Luz, who is looking back at her, both brows raised in silent question.

"The…" she starts but manages to stop herself, remembering where they are and starts scribbling furiously on the paper before shoving it back.

'The fall shower? How do you even know what that is?'

'Heard some guys at the market talking about it. So, mi amor, up for a romantic night under the stars?'

Amity pursed her lips, glancing at Luz out of the corner of her eye and she feels herself smile when she sees Luz looking at her in that adoring way that is much too telling of a way for school.

She hesitates a moment before putting something down and pushing it back.

'It's a school night.' is her weak argument.

'so?'

She shoots Luz a look but she only grins back.

'Okay'

"Passing notes in my class, Miss. Noceda?" The professor returned while they weren't looking, his abomination looming over their table. "On principle, all notes are read aloud in my class." He holds his tiny hand out for the paper.

Luz glances at Amity, who's gone pale as a ghost, gold eyes filled with panic and fear at the declaration.

Knowing the nature of their relationship is written plainly on the paper for all to potentially hear, Luz makes a desperate decision and shoves it into her mouth.

The teacher and the whole class look at her with wide eyes and hanging mouths, including Amity as she chews it, wincing at the sharp edges. It's the longest hand full of seconds ever as the whole class watches her eat a piece of paper.

But Luz is nothing if not committed and swallows, eyes watering.

"No, sir," she rasps. "No notes here."

"Well then… on with the lesson…," he says numbly at what he'd just witnessed and returns to the front of the class.

Amity is still looking at her with wide, unbelieving eyes.

Let it never be said that Luz Noceda wouldn't do whatever it took to protect her girlfriend, whether it be eating a punch or a piece of paper.

She grins, though it looks queasy, and Amity slaps her palm against her forehead.

"You ate it?" Gus says disbelieving at lunch but then turns thoughtful. "Do humans usually eat paper?" he asks curiously.

"No, no, they do not…" Luz makes a face and smacks her lips. She can still taste it, paper on the Isles tastes different. Willow has her head in her hand and is shaking it.

"I'm torn between calling you an idiot and finding it endearing that you ate it, so it wouldn't be read out loud," Amity mumbles.

"Yo también te quiero." Luz winks and Amity grins back at her. The way they're looking at each other makes Willow sigh.

"You two have been kind of bold lately. You've got to be more careful at school," she mumbles. "Unless you like eating paper…" She looks at Luz, exasperated. Her friends are too much sometimes, on a good day, much less when they're being all… coupley. They're sitting in the back corner of the cafeteria, Luz and Amity sitting against the wall so no one can see them holding hands under the table

"She's right," Amity says quietly, and Luz sighs.

"I know." She mopes. "There's just not enough time in the day…," Luz laments and Amity squeezes her hand under the table.

Gus and Willow share a look. They feel for their friends, they really do, the two just want to be so sickeningly in love whenever they're together. Even though they don't want to be subjected to it all the time, they also wish their friends could just be a couple in public.

"Well, fall break is coming up, that's a whole week off coming up soon." Gus piped up helpfully.

"That's true, we'll have to all hang out together during the break," Willow suggests and the couple was quick to agree as they discussed possible plans for the coming break.

It's well and dark when Luz pulls on her new Hexside hoodie. An apology offering from the twins after she'd bled all over the other one, and steps out the door with Owlbert on her shoulder and the staff in hand.

"Be careful, and have fun," Eda calls.

"I will. love you!" she calls, closing the door.

"Ready, buddy?" She smiles and the palisman hoots happily before hopping atop the staff and fusing back with the wood, wings spread, and she hopped on before flying away from the owl house toward Blight Manor.

It's colder and colder with each passing day as they move into true fall. Leaves have fallen everywhere across the Isles, starting to give it an even more barren look in some places then it usually had, though in others the forest is awash with color of every shade and hue Luz can imagine.

The moon is full and the sky is clear. It couldn't be a more perfect evening for watching a meteor shower.

Blight Manor comes into view after a few minutes and Luz makes sure to hover down in the woods, well outside the wrought iron gates, just in the tree line.

Luckily most of the trees outside Blight Manor are of the coniferous variety and their branches are still full of green needles, shielding her from view.

She pulls out her scroll and sends a message.

'I’m outside, flash your light.'

She slipped it back in her hoodie pocket and glanced over the windows, most of the lights were on, then suddenly a light on the far side of the house began to flicker. Luz grinned and spurred the staff into motion toward the side of the house and over the fence to hover outside the second-story window.

She could see Amity inside, sitting on her bed and tapping her foot anxiously. She was wearing the white and purple hoodie she'd borrowed from Luz three weeks ago, which the human had completely forgotten about till now.

She definitely liked that hoodie on Amity.

Luz grinned as she flew in close and tapped the glass quietly. Amity jerked, gold eyes wide as she looked up to see her girlfriend hovering out the window, waving.

She smiled brightly and jumped up, opening the window.

"Buenas Noches, mi amor. Your chariot awaits." Luz grinned and hoped it came out as dashing as it did in her head.

"You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, querida," Amity giggled at her behind a hand and climbed onto the window sill. Luz held out her hand, taking Amity's to help steady her as she slipped out the window and onto the staff, hands wrapping around Luz's waist.

Just as she's about to close the window the bedroom door opens and before Amity's heart can come out of her throat, Edric sticks his head in and looks around a second before spotting them, hovering, outside the window, looking back at him with wide eyes.

They stare back at each other before Ed's face morphs into a wicked grin as he steps into the room, closing the door behind him.

"I never knew you had it in you, Mittens." He smirked, crossing his arms.

"Ed!" Amity hissed at the only Blight son as he walked over to the window and set his elbows on the sill, setting his head in his hands.

"Where are you two off too?" he asked, looking between the two with glee.

"We're gonna go watch the fall shower," Luz said with a grin before Amity could tell him to buzz off.

"Oooh…, and if mom or dad should happen to pop their heads into your room and see you're gone?" He cocked a brow. Amity frowned at that, suddenly doubting the brilliance of this plan.

Edric saw it and smiled, he twirled his finger and in a pale blue flash, a duplicate Amity appeared in her bed, appearing to be sleeping.

"I got ya covered." He winked, and Amity smiled at him. "Don't stay out too late, you two" He grins, wagging a finger.

"Thanks, Ed!" Luz grinned before they pulled away from the window and flew off into the dark.

Amity clung tightly to Luz's back as they flew over the island, she was downright hot in comparison to the cold air that whipped past their faces.

"Where are we going exactly?" She leaned forward, lips pressed against Luz's ear so she could hear her over the wind.

Luz shivered at the hot breath in her ear.

"Lilith told me about a spot on a cliff at the edge of the forest that was perfect when she went," she answered back, as she steered them.

"Lilith's been?" Luz can hear the surprise in her voice.

"I know, crazy right? She wouldn't say who with, Eda bugged her all night about it." Luz shrugged.

When they’re flying over the forest they can see the faint glowing of lights dotting the area.

"I don't think we're going to be the only ones here…," Amity mumbles and Luz nods, bringing them down away from any of the other couples that appear to be in the woods tonight.

They hop off and Luz leans the staff against her shoulder and pulls up her hood.

"We don't wanna be recognized if anyone we know is here. It'd be hard to explain why we're here together," she reasoned when Amity looked at her curiously.

"Right," she said, pulling up her own hood. "Nothing you can eat would fix that." She smirked as Luz pulled out a light glyph and lit up the area around them.

"I thought we agreed that that was endearing!" Luz yelped at the teasing. Amity just chuckled as she walked through the forest, Luz hot on her heels.

"A true labor of love," Amity agreed, though the way she was giggling told a different story.

"That's the last time I get a paper cut on my tongue for you," Luz huffed, grabbing Amity's hand. The witch's fingers laced between her automatically even as she rolled her eyes.

"What do you want me to do, kiss it better?"

"Maybe…," Luz grumbled, and they both turned bright red beneath their hoods.

"Come on, you dork," Amity mumbled, glad most of her face was hidden by the purple hood.

They walked quickly through the woods, hand in hand as they searched for a relatively private spot from which to watch the sky.

"It should be just over this way…," Luz said quietly as they walked, their breaths coming out in little clouds.

"Did Lilith say exactly where it was?" Amity glanced around at all the trees, their feet crunching in the leaves.

"No, but she said around here, and that we'd know it when we saw it. There should be a bunch of rocks with initials carved into them," she said, holding her hand up, the light out in front of her.

A few more yards and she stopped, jerking Amity tp a stop as well.

"What-," she started.

"Shhh," Luz hushed her and tapped the staff to the ground, snuffing the light out, casting them in darkness before pulling Amity against her and pressing her back flush against a wide tree trunk. It took a few moments before their eyes adjusted to the dark, the light of the moon filtering through the trees cast a faint, but low, glow over everything.

They stayed perfectly still and quiet. All Amity could hear was her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then, the crunching of leaves approaching, followed by voices growing steadily louder. A moment later they could see the light bobbing between the trees a few yards away.

"How many more of these losers do you think we can catch on camera?" A voice cackled.

'Boscha' was the thought going through both girls' heads. Amity's grip on Luz tightened and her heartbeat sped up. Luz pulled her closer, as though trying to sink into the bark of the tree and make themselves disappear.

"There were a bunch down by the river." Skara's voice answered.

"Perfect, my penstagram followers could use a laugh," she snorted.

They were walking past them, through the trees, and both girls held their breath as they walked by.

Their voices and the light growing steadily more distant along with their footsteps in the crunching leaves. Eventually, the sounds faded entirely, replaced with the ambient sounds of the forest and Amity sighed in relief, her head sagging against Luz's shoulder.

"That was close…," the witch mumbled once she was sure they were far enough away.

"She just came out here to make fun of people…" Luz frowned, and Amity pulled back to look at her girlfriend's face.

"That's certainly something she would do…" Amity agreed.

"She's such a…" Luz chewed on her words, face screwed up with anger.

"A bitch," Amity supplied and Luz looked at her with wide eyes before a grin broke out across her face and she snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughing and Amity grinned at her.

"My, my, what strong language, Miss Blight." Luz grinned once she got her giggling under control.

"You were thinking it," she argued, still grinning.

"I would never." Luz held a hand to her chest, but her own grin betrayed her.

"Come on," she laughed, tugging Luz away from the tree and spelling a light orb into existence as they continued on in the same direction as before.

They pushed through some bushes and in front of them were an outcropping of rocks.

"I wonder if this is it…," Luz hummed as they pushed through and rounded one of the large rocks only to smack directly into someone.

"Ahh!" Four yells echoed through the woods.

Luz holds the staff out in front of them defensively before she realizes who it is they’ve run into.

"Amity!?"

"Emira!?

The sisters stared at each other.

"What are you doing here?" they both asked.

Amity blinked, then noticed the other person standing at her sister's side.

"Viney?" Luz cocked her head, looking between the two older teens.

"Sup?" She smiled, not looking at all bothered by the events going on around them. Amity looked back and forth between her sister and the other multi-track student.

The older Blight's face turned panicked.

"I can explain!" Emira practically shouts at them. Her sister's mouth is hanging open as the scene in front of them begins to sink in.

"I knew it!" Luz points, grinning wildly at the other two girls. Amity blinks at that, head whipping to look at her girlfriend.

"What do you mean you knew it!?" she yelps and Luz chuckles, scratching the back of her head.

"Well, yeah, after Viney fixed my face and was so weird about how she knew Em, I kinda started paying more attention, and saw Em head into beast keeping one day after school when I had to go back because I forgot my bag, so I just figured." She shrugged. The older teens stand there, red-faced at being so easily figured out.

"Them, you figured out in two weeks, but you didn't know I liked you till I said it to your face after almost two months…" Amity frowns, crossing her arms. Luz turned red at that and grinned sheepishly, shrugging.

"Lo Siento, mi amor."

Viney snorted at that, drawing the two girls’ gaze.

"That sounds like, Luz," she agreed, and Amity sighed.

"Are you guys here to watch the fall shower?" Luz grins.

"Of course," Viney smiles back, hand on her hip.

The sisters are still looking at each other. Emira looks embarrassed and Amity can't help but feel betrayal sinking in her gut like a stone.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this…," she finally managed to mutter and the betrayal she feels must be clear on her face because Emira blinks at her and grimaces, rubbing one of her arms.

Luz and Viney share a glance.

"I can't believe you!" Amity frowns and Emira jerks but then glares.

"It's not like you told me about, Luz!" she bites back defensively.

"You already knew!" she argued.

"Anyone with one eye and half a brain could tell how bad you had it for her!" she barked.

"Hey!" Luz jumps in, offended by the implication.

"Babe..." Viney rested a hand on Emira's shoulder and she relaxed, sighing.

"Look, Amity, it wasn't anything personal… it was just that the fewer people that knew the better. I shouldn't have to tell you that." Her eyes darted to Luz before focusing on her sister.

Amity continues to frown and Luz nudges her with her hip. She glanced at the human, smiling at her in that way, egging her on. Amity sighs, looking back at Emira.

"You're right… I understand."

"I should have told you though… there just hasn't been a good time lately," Emira admitted.

"I don't understand…," Luz said, drawing everyone's gaze. "I know why your parents wouldn't like me… being all human and everything, but what's wrong with Viney, why keep it a secret?" She held her hand out at the other upperclassman.

"Besides being a multi-track student, formerly of the detention track, and bottom of the barrel social class-wise?" Viney chuckled, seemingly not at all bothered by this characterization of herself.

"Our parents are very… traditional," Amity hedges.

"Anyone who falls outside the norm, someone studying multiple tracks, like you," Emira pointed at her. " Or aren't of the right social class, they are not going to be fond of." Emira frowns, resting a fist on her hip.

"Wow, I think that's the first time I've checked every box on a list…, and not the list I wanted too..." Luz frowned, crossing her arms.

"I still love you." Amity nudged her, making her smile.

Emira cleared her throat and they both turned red as they focussed on the two grinning teens in front of them.

"So yeah," Emira said with a grin at her sister's bright red face. "That's why."

"Blight's just have the hots for trouble makers." Viney winked and Luz laughed as they high fived, making the sisters roll their eyes, but both their faces are pink.

"I'm surprised though, never thought you'd have the guts to sneak out, Mittens." Emira looked at her sister appraisingly. "Then again, you do a lot of surprising things these days…" she smiled, glancing between the two younger girls.

Amity stood a little taller, chin jutted out.

"How'd you guys get here?" Luz asks.

"Puddles" Viney grinned, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at the young griffin laying curled up in the grass.

"I want a griffin…" Luz pouted, making her fellow multi-tracker chuckle.

“You do not need a griffin…,” Amity mumbled.

"You guys better find a spot to watch from, the shower should be starting soon," Viney reminded.

"And this is our spot," Emira said.

"Oh, right. Come on, Amity." Luz grabbed her hand and tugged.

Amity sent a last glance at her sister who seemed to read the look.

"Later," she promised. Amity nodded and let Luz drag her away.

"Stay close and we'll warn you if anyone's coming our way!" Viney called to the two's retreating backs. Luz waved over her shoulder.

"We can still find a good spot." Luz smiled at her as they walked. Amity nodded. The cool night air had made her nose and the tips of her ears red, Luz looked much the same.

They followed the edge of the cliff till they pushed through some bushes as tall as them and stopped.

In front of them was a small clearing of grass surrounded by large stones on one side and the edge of the cliff, hanging out over the ocean on the other, providing perfect shelter from any onlookers and a clear view of the night sky and moon above them.

"This is perfect." Luz smiled and Amity nodded in agreement.

They glanced around and Luz perked up. "Hey check it out!" She trotted over to the rocks and the light spell lit up the rocks, casting long shadows against their jagged shapes and the many initials carved across their faces. "This is it!" Luz grinned.

"Lilith was right, this spot is perfect," Amity admitted, looking around. The moonlight reflecting off the ocean amidst the starry sky was beautiful.

Luz glanced around before her eyes lighted upon a sharp rock and picked it up, resting the staff against the rocks and immediately going to work on a free space on the rocks face, tongue poking out between her lips in concentration

All the scratching and chipping noise brought Amity's eyes back to her, hunched over one of the large rocks.

"What are you doing?" She tried to peek around her, but Luz covered her work with her arms.

"Hold on, I'm not done!"

Amity can practically hear the grin in her voice, and stood back, waiting. After a few minutes, Luz leaned back, eyeing her work critically before smiling and standing up to move aside.

"Ta~da" She held out her arms at the rock.

There, chiseled forever into the rock's surface, deep enough to never fade is: 'L+A' Inside a slightly misshapen heart.

Amity's face warms, and heat blooms in her chest in a way that only Luz is capable of eliciting. She can't stop the smile tugging at her lips even if she wanted too; and she doesn't.

"You're a dork," she says, but the adoring tone can't be mistaken for anything else.

"But I'm your dork, mi amor." She grins wagging her eyes brows and Amity snorts into her hand.

"Yeah, my dork," she agrees, grabbing the sides of Luz's hood and pulling her in for a kiss.

Luz laughs against her lips and she pulls back, shaking her head.

"Come on…," she mumbles, still smiling as she tugs Luz over to the grass. Luz dropped her hand to plop down on the ground, flopping onto her back in the grass, one arm outstretched in invitation. Amity sat down beside her laid back in the grass atop Luz's arm, letting her tug her in close. Her warmth immediately soaks into her, and Amity shuffles closer, throwing an arm across Luz's waist, humming contently and Luz is happy to oblige any and all snuggling, her free hand reaching across to entangle her fingers with Amity's. Their cold and Luz just squeezed tighter, trying to warm the digits in hers and Amity smiles against her.

It's quiet, the sounds of the ocean crashing against the shore and the slight breeze in the trees are the only sounds for a few minutes, but Luz and quiet never did mix for long.

"So, when is it supposed to start?" Luz mumbles against a pointed ear, hot breath making it twitch. Amity half shrugs.

"Anytime now," she hums.

Honestly, she doesn't even care if it ever starts, though she's sure Luz would be disappointed if it didn't. She's happy to just be right here, her girlfriend holding her close, alone in the calm quiet of the night. It's only ever here, wrapped up in the unending warmth and affection the other girl exudes, that Amity is ever truly at peace, unworried by everything else going on in her life, whether it be school, her parents, or anything in between. Here, above all else, is where she's happiest.

She lets her eyes slip closed for a moment, and the warm earthy smell she would know anywhere fills her senses, so much stronger then on the hoodie she's been wearing to bed for two weeks. She doesn't pretend to understand what Luz is thinking half the time, but her thoughts must be of a similar vein because she feels her nose bury in her hair.

It's probably only a minute before she hears Luz gasp.

"It's starting!" Is the excited whisper against the shell of her ear, and her eyes pop open.

First, it's just one, then two, then three more, and before she knows it, stars are streaking across the sky leaving bright trails of light in their wake as they flash and vanish almost as quickly as they appear, but are quickly replaced by more.

"Wow…," Luz breathes as she watches with wide eyes. It reminds her of rain on a window, or tears falling, like in the story.

Amity watches silently, but no less entranced by the spectacle.

"Totally worth it," Luz says and Amity can see the cloud it makes before it evaporates against the sky above them. She hums in agreement.

The stars continue to flash across the sky in bright flecks of whizzing light, slowly fading out against the inky blacks and deep blues and purples of the nebulas above. Amity’s thumb runs over the back of Luz’s knuckles slowly.

The sky is alive with the bright streaks for a long while before they begin to slow, and as they do she can feel her eyes droop, the quiet, and Luz's warmth slowly lulling her to sleep.

After a while, Luz notices the constant rubbing of Amity's thumb over her knuckles has stopped and she glances down to see her eyes closed and breathing soft and even as she sleeps, curled against her. Happiness, hot and searing, fills her whole being; beyond words to describe it.

She smiles to herself, and buries her nose in mint hair, letting her eyes slip closed, just for a second, listening to the calming sound of Amity's breathing and feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest against her.

Then she's asleep.

The next thing they know, they're being shaken awake.

"Huh, Wha-" Luz blinks drowsily.

"You two gotta get up, and Mittens has to come home with me," Emira chuckles as she and Viney stand over the two, smiling, Puddles standing behind them.

Luz grumbles, clutching her girlfriend closer.

"No…," she mumbles thickly. She feels the hot puffs of air against her neck as Amity sleepily laughs at her.

"We have to go…," she says thickly, pressing a drowsy kiss to Luz's neck without thinking, unaware of the jolt it sends through Luz’s system, before extracting herself from her. Luz just whines and makes needy, grabby motions with her hands; she’s colder now.

Amity chuckles and holds out her hand.

"Come on, you dork." She smiles down at her.

Luz takes her hand and lets herself be hauled to her feet. She walked over to the rocks and picked up the staff. The wings spread and she hops on, hovering off the ground and looking at Amity expectantly.

“I better go with Em,” she says sadly, and Luz pouts. Amity smiles and takes a step forward and kisses her goodnight, and it if lasts longer than it really needs to, the other two teens don’t say anything, just wait for Amity to extract herself from Luz.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promises quietly, and Luz hums in agreement. “Goodnight, querida,” she mumbles.

“Goodnight, mi amor,” she says quietly, and then is flying off over the trees and disappearing from sight.

Viney jumps on Puddles back and Emira climbs on behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Let’s go, Mittens,” her sister calls. “We have school tomorrow.”

“When did you suddenly become the voice of reason?” Viney chuckles.

“Cuz, she’s too head over heels in love with Luz, someone has to do it,” her sister teases, and Amity huffs, climbing on the griffin’s back behind her sister.

“Shut up,” she grumbles as they take off back toward Blight Manor.

“I’m curious…,” Emira starts after a few minutes, looking over her shoulder at Amity. “What’s ‘mi amor’? I’ve heard her say that before,” she asks, and Amity’s cheeks pink.

“It’s Spanish…,” she grumbles.

“Yeah, but what does it mean?” she stresses, almost knowingly. Maybe she doesn’t know exactly, but she knows a term of endearment when she hears one, especially the way Luz says those words to her; soft and meaningfully.

She mumbles something.

“What?” she asks and Amity sighs to herself.

“It means ‘my love’,” she finally says, and predictably, Emira coos at her.

“Aww… so ‘querida’ is like…,” she trails off and Amity scowls at her, of course, she heard that.

“Dear or darling,” she grumbles.

“You two are too cute.” She grins.

“Like you don’t call me ‘honey’,” Viney pipes up, and it’s Emira’s turn to blush and grumble something under her breath. Amity snorts, grinning. She likes Viney more and more by the minute.

They land in the woods, just beyond the house and dismount, there's no way to get the griffin as close and quietly to their windows as Luz could get on a staff.

Amity turns away as Viney and her sister say their own goodbye’s, and then the multi-tracker is flying off into the night and the sisters make their way to the door. It’s late and all the lights are out, their parents are definitely asleep by now.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Emira says after a minute. “About Viney,” she clarifies, glancing at her sister.

Amity shrugs.

“I get it… I’m... terrified, about mom and dad finding out about Luz, and never being able to see her again,” she says quietly. Emira wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes.

“Ed and I have your back.”

Amity smiles to herself and nods before it turns into a grin.

“And I’m sure if Luz starts inviting Viney to things it will be just a coincidence,” she teases, and Emira scoffs, shoving her away, but her flushed face says it all and Amity laughs.

“Whatever…,” she gripes, but she’s grinning. It would definitely be less conspicuous if the four of them hung out together. They love hanging out with Gus and Willow, but she’s sure their friends get tired of them being all lovey when they're together.

They silently open the door and walk in.

The kitchen light is on and they share a look before tiptoeing down the entryway and peek their heads around the corner, the fridge door is open and someone is scavenging through it. They stay perfectly still.

Then, Edric steps back, fork hanging out of his mouth and a piece of cake in hand, and closes the door.

“Ed,” they hiss, and he jumps, nearly dropping the plate.

“Shit! Don’t do that!” he huffs as they walk into the kitchen. “Wait, where were you?” he points at his twin.

“We were both at the Fall Shower,” Amity says and Emira pinks as her twin looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“With who?” he asks.

“Her girlfriend?” Amity says obviously, and Edric’s eyes widen.

“You have a girlfriend?” he hisses, and Amity blinks, looking from one twin to the other.

“You didn’t tell Ed?” She blinks. Amity had always assumed that the twins told each other everything.

“Who’s your girlfriend?!” He leans forward and Emira turns red.

“Viney…”

“Your multi-track friend?” He blinks and she nods. “Huh… I shoulda pegged her as your type,” he hums before taking a bite of his cake. “So, how was it?” he asks, mouthful. The sisters glance at each other.

“Perfect,” they say, and Edric just nods sagely before he stops, looking thoughtful.

"So… wait… I'm the only one without a girlfriend!?" Edric yelled, throwing up his free hand.

Amity snorted, and Emira just shrugged.

"Sorry, Bro." She smirked, not looking sorry at all.

"Whatever, I don't want one anyway. I have this cake," he huffs, sticking his nose in the air and walking back upstairs with his treat.

The sisters share a look before they start laughing.

Luz hops off the staff and pushes open the front door of the owl house, careful not to wake Hooty as she steps inside.

“Hey, Kid,” Eda greets her when she steps inside. The sisters are sitting on the couch when she walks in, and she smiles at them. Eda doesn’t even need to ask how it went by the dopey smile Luz can’t seem to rid herself of. “You’re home late for a school night,” she scolds but is given away by her grin.

“How was the shower?” Lilith asks her, smiling, she too can see the giddy aura that surrounds her sister’s apprentice like a fog.

Luz clutches the staff tightly in her hands, well aware of how dopey she must look.

“Magical” she sighs and Eda chuckles.

#Moonlit Masquerade #lumity #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Emira Blight #Edric Blight #Eda Clawthorne #Lilith clawthorne #Gus Porter #Willow Park #fic #the owl house #toh

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