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inhuman-obey-me · 2 months ago

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Collab pair piece for Diavolo's birthday 2024!

Art by Mod Cosmos

Writing by Mod Chaos

His First Halloween

Can also be read on AO3 here Word count: 5.3k Description: Every year, the Demon King has always held those stuffy parties to honor the prince's birth. The nobility always come around to kiss up and pay due respects to their royals. It's a huge bore, and a chore of the noble class. But, every year too, just outside the walls of the Demon Lord's Castle, Diavolo can see a whole festival out in town! And it looks fun. It looks really, really fun. So maybe, just once...he could sneak out to see what it's like out there?

Diavolo's tiny fingers tangle nervously at the edges of his shirt as he prepares to ask. It should be alright, shouldn't it? It's his birthday, after all. And he's never asked for much on his birthdays, not really, always behaved himself well at those stuffy birthday parties that were held really more for the nobles' benefit than for his, year after year, so maybe, just maybe, this one time...

He waits for his father to turn around, anxiously deciding how to phrase his request. Careful not to sound too pitiful, or he'll get scolded for not having more dignity. Nor too proud, lest he be reminded of his place. Perhaps he could mention how well his tutors had said he'd been doing in his studies lately...?

"Diavolo." He startles out of his thoughts as his father's voice booms overhead, the Demon King's intimidating figure having turned toward him while he'd been distracted. "Why aren't you dressed yet?"

In an instant, his mind goes blank of all his considerations, and he blurts out, "Father, please, could I go out to the festival in town today?"

The silence he gets in response, however momentary in reality, feels like it lasts an eternity. Diavolo braces himself and darts his eyes down, afraid to meet his father's eyes, before slowly glancing up again to chance a peek at the other's expression.

But there's no change on the king's face. Not surprise, nor gentleness, nor even annoyance. Nothing at all, exactly as stone-faced as he'd been before asking. As if Diavolo hadn't said anything at all.

Well, it's not an outright no. That has to count for something...doesn't it?

Nervously optimistic, he decides to steel forward. "I-I saw them from my window this morning, while they were setting up, and...and it seemed really fun!" His voice picks up speed as he speaks, scrambling to make his plea before he might be cut off.

Still nothing. Not a single reaction from the imposing king, looking down upon his child.

"I-I know I'm not usually allowed to attend such events beyond the palace, but...just this once, for my birthday, could I go out to see it? Please...?"

At last, his father's disinterested expression is broken by a small, unamused scoff. "If you know you are not allowed to attend such things, why would you waste my time with such a ridiculous request?"

"But, father--"

"Absolutely not. The festival is for those on the outside. It is not your place to go gallivanting amongst the commoners on such an occasion. Now go and get dressed. The nobles will be arriving any minute for your party."

Diavolo's entire posture deflates. "Yes, father."

He leaves quietly after that, shooting one last wistful glance out of the hallway window. The colorful flags and tents wave back at him, beckoning him out -- but he can see himself as well, reflected in the glass, trapped on the wrong side of it.

It's just not meant to be, he supposes. Maybe next year. Or the year after? Or at least, whenever his father finally decides he's old enough? Yes, someday. Someday, he'll be able to go. Won't he?

"Young Master, have you made preparations for this evening's party?"

Diavolo nods, reassuring his butler that everything is ready and that he need not stress too much about the night's event. Yes, he remembers the evening's schedule. Yes, the nobles have all given their responses -- not that they need to really, none of them would ever turn down a personal invitation to the demon prince's official birthday celebration, though he almost rather wishes they would for once. Yes, he knows what he's going to say when he's inevitably asked for a speech. This is, after all, the first birthday since his father departed to the bottom of the Devildom to sleep, leaving the young prince in charge. They will want to hear his platitudes and reassurance. They will want to know that nothing will change.

But between each answer, it certainly doesn't escape Barbatos's notice how the prince's sullen gaze keeps drifting back towards the balcony.

"Is something the matter, My Lord?"

A pleading look crosses Diavolo's face, not unlike the spoiled puppy eyes he often gave the butler in the past when begging to hear stories about life outside the castle walls. "Have you ever been out there, Barbatos? To that festival in town?"

"Yes, of course. The annual three-day Halloween Celebration, honoring the day you were born, correct? Yes, I have attended a number of times in the past."

"Yes! Yes, it's quite a large event, isn't it?"

"Well, this is the capital, after all. It's only natural that the home of the royal family would be host to the largest Halloween celebration in the Devildom."

"Oh, of course! Right, the...largest." It's an oddly crestfallen tone, from the one who usually perks right up with excitement whenever Barbatos even hints at a grand tale waiting to be spun. But in this case, the reminder of its scale only makes him long to attend for himself all the more, making his disappointment at not being allowed to weigh all the heavier in his chest.

Then again, his father isn't actually around this year...

In an instant, his mind is made up. He nods resolutely to himself, golden eyes gleaming. "Clear my schedule for the afternoon, Barbatos."

A flurry of expressions crosses the butler's face -- alarm, confusion, concern. "Young Master?"

"They are celebrating my birthday, aren't they? I wish to attend."

"Lord Diavolo, you mustn't," Barbatos answers sternly. "We haven't made the appropriate security arrangements, nor have you gone into town enough thus far to know your way around. And there is too much work for you to complete besides. You cannot possibly shirk your duties now. The nobles have their eyes on you, and several of them will be on high alert for any sign of weakness. You must ensure that you are fully prepared for tonight."

Diavolo groans, sitting back down. Even though Barbatos was a bit less strict on him than his father, he should have known he would still not be allowed to go. "I see your point. I suppose you're right, there's a lot still to prepare. Very well then."

"Good. I'm glad you understand," his butler smiles peacefully, despite how menacing his voice sounds. "Then, please come to breakfast, and I have the latest documents ready for you to look over afterwards. You will find the rest of the day's agenda on your desk." His voice turns soft for a moment as he adds, "And, My Lord?"

"Yes, Barbatos?"

"I do wish you a happy birthday today. May it be a good one."

The demon prince plays listlessly with his pen, trying to force himself to read through yet another official document awaiting his signature. At his side sits a tray with a plate of perfectly rounded devilberry cookies, along with a fresh cup of tea, its steaming tendrils teasing his nose as they drift past him towards an open window. Barbatos had stopped by earlier to drop off the treats, and to see how he was doing with his work -- though, to the butler's chagrin, Diavolo had hardly made a dent in the pile.

It has been three hours since his earnest declaration of wanting to attend the festival, and hardly a minute of that time has passed by without some daydream of the festivities beyond. He's never attended a festival before -- at least not amongst the crowds, only from afar as he accompanied his father in making appearances for some official purpose or another. They'd always seemed so lively to him as he passed through in their royal processions, with games and music filling the air with sound, and every direction smelling of delicious food.

He looks down at the paper in his hand, trying again to make it through the page at least, but as his eyes glaze over, he surrenders to the boredom and picks up a cookie instead. It's about time for a break, surely? And the window in here does have such a grand view of the town, where he can look out at the realm that is now his responsibility.

But he's too restless. His head bobs around in the window, eyes drawn to every attraction at once. The main entrance to the festival isn't far off, but it really is one of the biggest events of the Devildom. Booths and tents stretch through whole neighborhoods, with a massive stage right at the center, where he can see brightly costumed demons dancing around. Balloons and flags are all over, and the crowds are larger than any he's seen before. Oh, how desperately, he longs to be there. And it's his birthday! Shouldn't a demon normally have fun on their birthday?

That's it, he can't take it anymore. There's half an hour before Barbatos returns to retrieve the tray of treats. That means a good half hour before the butler will notice he's gone.

Diavolo pulls the cloak tighter over his shoulders as he peers around the corner of the alleyway he's snuck in through. It was a last-second attempt at some kind of disguise, pulled from a random storage closet along with the overly large mask presently adorning his face, the ornate details of which now serve to obscure his horns -- and the edges of his view.

But as soon as he sets his golden eyes upon the sight beyond the small alley's opening, any concern over his poorly improvised outfit flies right out of his mind. He lets out a small gasp at the splendor of the town's decorations -- not in the wealthy, refined way he was used to, but an earnest, splashy kind of splendor, a scene designed not to boast superiority but to unite.

A row of magnificent tents stretches down the street in every direction, each one punctuated by a collection of colorful balloons. Merchants dressed in their best suits cheerfully call out to passersby, chatting up any potential customer whose attention they can get, while demons of all shapes and sizes stroll around, dressed in all kinds of outrageous ways. Several of them sport little plastic crowns or bizarrely shaped hats between their horns, while others laugh with their companions under colorful masquerade style masks, and others still wear fake dragon wings or tails upon their backs.

And the smells! The rich spice of grilled meats fills the air, permeated occasionally by the heavy aroma of frying oil that sweeps by him in tendrils. Both are interrupted in bursts by the sickly sweetness of syrupy pastries and freshly swirled cotton candy carried by passing crowds walking past his hiding place.

Before Diavolo even realizes, he's stepped out from the shadows into the crowd, hand outstretched towards a demon holding one particularly tantalizing treat, a string of rainbow candy bubbles magically suspended to dance in mesmerizing swirls in between bites. The demon in question, a lanky demon reminiscent of an olive tree, steps back slightly in surprise at the sudden appearance of Diavolo's burly form at their side, snapping him abruptly out of his reverie.

"Ah, pardon me," the demon prince says, straightening out his composure on instinct to more properly greet the demon and their two companions, a pair of plum-haired imps. "May I ask where you found that delightful confection? I would very much like to try one myself!"

The demon's head flicks upwards in mild confusion at the formality of his speech, and finds their eyes meeting deep, unmistakably golden ones in return. And it clicks to them then, though Diavolo doesn't realize it. "Uh, s-sir, yes! It's, uh, from a big yellow tent down that way! I think the shop was called Hellion Bonbons..."

"Oh, wonderful! Thank you, I will head that way immediately!" Diavolo laughs cheerily. And so he does, without hearing the frantic hushed whispers of the group as he leaves, amazed at their encounter with the actual heir to the throne, the prince of the Devildom himself.

As Diavolo makes his way through the crowd to seek out the vendor of the colorful bubble candy, he comes across quite a few other stalls that catch his interest. Several of them sell various types of jewelry and accessories, many of them highlighting wares with different arrangements of the royal colors, and others carry the same fake dragon wings he'd seen around earlier. From another, he picks up a stick of cotton candy shaped like his head, and he roars with delight at the sight of more than one stall selling various sized dolls of him as a baby. Souvenir stands dot the path at the corners where streets split off down new avenues.

"Step right up, try your hand at the Devilish Ball Catch!"

Diavolo perks up at the barker's call, turning excitedly to look at the game he's advertising. The game stall is shaped like a small room, wooden cherry walls enclosing each side except the entrance, which is blocked by a wide table where a pleasant-looking gremlin woman waves cheerfully out to the crowd. Inside, a festival attendee in a glittering orange mask is hopping around, dodging obstacles as enchanted balls shaped like horned demon heads whiz by at all sizes and speeds.

Quickly latching onto the slightest sign of interest, the fast-talking barker speeds over to him. "Well, hello there, sir, you look like a fine sort, don't you! Feel like a challenge, friend?"

To the staffer's surprise, Diavolo nods eagerly back at him without hesitation. "Oh, yes, do tell me more, please! What sort of game do you have here?"

"Why, it's the Devilish Ball Catch -- a game of diabolically wild enjoyment! Simple enough, simple, I swear! Here ya go, this is my dear associate, Tzitzimime, she'll tell you all about it!"

The gremlin at the table nods at him, and proceeds to explain. The game is simple, as promised, at least in rules if not in practice. The whizzing demon-headed balls would fly around the room, and a player has 3 minutes to try to catch as many of them as they can. Trickily, however, the balls had been enchanted with different spells, though certain counter-spells from players would also be permitted. Once caught, each one would drop into a bin on its own at the center of the room, and the score would be tallied at the end based on the sizes and enchantments of the balls caught, with smaller targets or balls with trickier enchantments being worth more. And the grand prize, worth too many points to have yet been won by any challenger -- a giant plushie of the prince himself, in full demon form, complete with a brilliant real ruby stitched into the royal dragon curled at its center.

Diavolo doesn't hesitate, swept up as he is in the excitement of the festival. "Absolutely, I would love to join a game!" he enthuses merrily, quickly passing over the grimm needed. He doesn't catch the suspicious look from Tzitzimime as she sees the all-too-familiar curve of his horn as he passes her - one she's been seeing all night already on a particular stuffed toy - nor the whispers between her, the barker demon, and numerous nearby spectators as he plays.

No, the prince of the Devildom is wholly consumed by the glee of the game as the buzzer beeps the start of the round. Demon heads speed by him from all directions, though he dexterously manages to catch most of the ones that cross his path right away. Some smaller ones slip past him, as do a few that teleport away just as his fingers begin to close around them. With about half the time left, he then turns his attention to the ones zipping around in the corners of the room, taking advantage of one of the permitted counter-spells to blast them still, a somewhat difficult type of magic normally but trivial to the demon prince's raw power. In no time, he's captured all but the smallest of the balls, which continue to whoosh around, their mouths splitting open into teasing cackles as the timer ticks ever close to the end.

In his excitement, however, he doesn't notice as his disguise gradually falls away, and with it, his relative anonymity. The hood of his cloak, already only able to stretch so far forward around his horns, has dropped entirely, revealing his deep red hair underneath, and peeks of his dragon wings begin to poke out from underneath, their golden tips catching the light as he bounds around the small room. So too do the golden marks adorning his wrist, as he swings his muscular arms to grab at the targets, gleaming beneath the sleeves of the cloak with every movement.

When the buzzer rings at the end of the game, he's floating on a rush of adrenaline, hardly even thinking anymore about the responsibilities of being prince awaiting him at home. Nor does it then especially register as strange in his mind as Tzitzimime remarks, "Truly an incredible showing, My Lord," while she hands the grand prize plush over to him with a slight bow. He's too excited over the fun and the thrill of the play, and the ecstasy of having won the elusive grand prize.

His mirthful laugh only ceases when he notices a young demon, hardly older than a toddler, staring up at him from the front of the table. "Ah, little one, you like this, do you?" he asks, crouching down to meet their gaze and waving the plush at them. "Here, you may have it."

The parent holding the child's hand rushes to refuse the gift, though he insistently gives it to them anyway. But the young demon's gaze remains unbroken, mouth agape with wonder. Diavolo tilts his head inquisitively, beckoning for an explanation. "Is there something else, little one?"

At this prompting, the young child jumps up eagerly, reaching tiny fingers out towards the prince's face. "Mister, mister, your mask is so cool! I've never seen anything like it!"

At that, Diavolo laughs again, delighted at the child's wonder. "Yes, it's very special. I'm glad you like it!"

"So, are you going to join the masked parade?!" The young demon's eyes shine up at him expectantly. "My papa said they're starting soon, from the...the...umm....ah! Right, from the...southern stage, he said! You're going to join, aren't you?"

The prince is taken aback, not having heard much about the parade, but he's jubilant at the idea. "Yes, certainly! That sounds like great fun!"

"Okay! We'll keep an eye out for you then!" the child squeals with joy. "It's going to look amazing with everyone else's masks around you, too. But I think yours is the best!!"

With a pat on the young one's head, Diavolo cheerfully waves them off before making his way to the southern stage as instructed.

When he arrives to join the throngs of other masked festival goers at the parade's starting point, even his elation at the experience so far isn't enough to distract him from the whispers that seem to surround him. He doesn't catch distinct words - the surrounding demons at least take care not to announce their notice of his presence too loudly - but there's certainly a buzz about him.

He's about to approach one of them to ask what's going on when a voice rings out from the gates where the parade is set to march from. "Attention, all participants for the masked parade. We will now be starting the route through the festival. Please make sure to stay behind this float at the front at all times, which will be opening the path for us to walk through. Again, we will now be starting the route through the festival. Please make sure to stay behind this float, and let's have a wonderful Halloween parade, everyone!"

On cue, Diavolo finds himself quickly swept into the crowd before he can ask anyone, and turns his attention towards jovially waving to the audience as he passes. The cheers in return seem to call out especially loudly around him, though it's hard to actually tell from where he is in the line. He makes sure to cheer back, amazed to see the full extent of how many demons have gathered here in town on this day to celebrate Halloween, the holiday marking the date of his birth so many centuries ago. It's truly incredible to see the many costumes around him, and humbling as well to recognize how many are looking to his future as the new reigning leader of the realm.

And then, it happens in just an instant -- another demon in the parade bumps up against the edges of his oversized mask, knocking it off one side of his face. Before he can even register the change, excited shouting emerges from the crowd around them, and he's suddenly surrounded by yells of "It's the prince!" and "Prince Diavolo!"

Immediately, he finds himself mobbed by frenzied audience members pushing forth to greet him. The parade grinds to a halt behind him, unable to get around the throngs, and he too is unable to move forward at all, engulfed in the horde of celebrating demons excited to get as close as they can to the prince himself.

Well, of course they would. After all this time famously hidden away in the castle for most of his life so far, except for a handful of official appearances and tightly secured royal events, it's no wonder they're shocked and elated at the chance to get within arm's reach of the royal heir himself. He himself is shocked and elated to see it -- proof before his own eyes of his beloved status among the people.

None of that, however, changes the fact of the current matter -- that Diavolo has been surrounded by a mob, and is unable to proceed past them, and therefore neither can the rest of the parade. Graciously, he smiles at them all, shaking as many of the hands thrust out towards him as he can, and thanking each and every demon for coming out to celebrate his birthday.

But gradually, his arms grow tired and his voice begins to fade, without any sign of the crowd thinning out. If anything, it seems only to grow further and further out, as word of the actual demon prince's appearance spreads throughout the festival grounds. He's faltering, and he knows it. And there's no end in sight.

Just then, he finds himself plucked abruptly from the crowd by one of the outstretched hands. The clamor of the crowd still rings in his ears, only a few feet from where he just was, but he finds himself led down into a dingy alleyway. He tries to get a look at his abductor - savior? - but, like the prince himself, his face is obscured by mask and shadows.

Scenarios flash through his mind. He'd like to believe this isn't a bad thing -- he was in a tough situation, and he's been pulled out of it now. But for who he is and all he signifies to the realm, is that realistic? But, would someone be so brazen as to kidnap the crown prince and acting leader of the realm right out of a giant crowd in the middle of a celebration for his own birthday?

Well, it's not beyond the realm of possibility. In the Devildom, vicious brazenness was the way of life until relatively recently. There are certainly those who would like to return it that way. And if it's one of those demons, then what do they intend to do with him? A ransom? Blackmail? Worse?

But he's too exhausted from the earlier mob. With reservations swirling in his mind, he allows the stranger to pull him through an unlit door at the end of the alley.

"And those floating candies, why -- they looked magnificent! What a disappointment that I didn't get a chance to sample them for myself. I wonder if Barbatos could make such a creation for me," Diavolo gushes excitedly, before taking another hearty bite of his burger.

They're sitting in a back corner of the kitchen, a few feet from the door which he'd been pulled through just an hour or so ago. It's a bit shabby in this room; the tiles of the floor and walls, though well-kept in cleanliness, certainly show signs of wear. So too do the counters, with small knicks and scratches across the tops. From farther in, staff work busily at their cooking stations, fulfilling orders at a shocking pace.

"You sit yourself down right there now," the abducting demon had instructed when they'd entered, pulling off his mask to reveal a surprisingly warm smile. He was visibly older, though not quite elderly, with mild creases of age showing beside a roguishly toothy grin -- or maybe those were just his demonic fangs flashing with mischief in the light. Either way, he introduced himself as the owner of the place, and it soon became apparent that he meant the prince no harm after all. Not long after, he'd presented the young royal with the delectably greasy sandwich, telling him, "Here, eat up. It'll make you feel better, after all that bustle earlier."

Thus Diavolo finds himself trying a common cheeseburger for the first time, and after his first taste, happily munches away at it, answering a few questions along the way about how he'd ended up in his earlier situation, as well as chatting about the wondrous other things he'd seen while he was out at the festival.

"Glad to see your spirits refreshed, Your Highness," the proprietor chuckles.

"Ah, yes! Yes, I'm feeling far better now. Thank you so much for your generosity, and for helping me out back at the parade," Diavolo beams. "Truthfully, I'm not sure I could have lasted much longer in that crowd. Perhaps I may have underestimated the risks of sneaking out on my own after all. Though, I thought that as long as I disguised myself...but I suppose a disguise is no use if my mask falls off."

"Disguise...?" An exuberant laugh escapes from the older demon, and he gives the prince a heavier-than-gentle pat on the shoulder. "My lord, calling what you had a disguise would be, ah, rather generous at best. Your wingtips are poking out from your cloak even now, you know. And that mask, well now...suffice it to say, it's a tad beyond anything I could afford." With a smirk, he adds teasingly, "Besides, this is a celebration of Halloween, the day of your birth, after all, Your Highness. Any demon worth their horns better be able to recognize the glow of the royal family's golden eyes when they're damn near surrounded by it."

"Oh! Oh, that's right, isn't it? Ah...that explains a lot about why people were so formal with me all day." Diavolo sighs deeply as the realization, which feels so obvious now but hadn't even occurred to him in the excitement of things, settles in. "I had thought it'd be nice to experience the festival from an everyday demon's perspective. But perhaps that's simply not possible after all. It seems it's not as easy to blend in with everyone as I'd hoped."

The owner goes quiet for a moment, pondering the dilemma. It's surprising to hear a member of the royal family lament being unable to experience the realm like a commoner, and for that, Diavolo certainly has his respect. But between his large frame, his distinctive aura, and his immediately identifiable hair and eyes marking him as royalty, it's hard to hide his identity even on a day like this, when masks and costumes are expected. On any other day, it'd be nearly impossible, at least without a very strong spell. Then again...

"Maybe you don't need to blend in," he says at last. "You just want to come to town once in a while and hear how things are going, right? Everyone's excited about you here today, but that's because it's hardly ever happened before. But if you were able to come down more often, maybe it'd become normal. The townsfolk wouldn't be afraid that this is their one chance to see you out here with them."

The prince's eyes widen at the suggestion, and he nods along excitedly. "I see! I see, that's a wonderful idea. Then, I'll simply need a way to get them used to my presence in town so they can get used to me."

Sensing an opportunity, the owner grins widely at him. "Well, I know what you can do. You're welcome back here to my restaurant any time, Your Highness -- Hell's Kitchen. I'll talk to my staff, make sure they know not to let anyone bother you while you're here."

It's shamelessly transparent self-promotion, of course, but Diavolo smiles and agrees anyway. Giving his newfound friend a small boost to business here and there is hardly much of an ask, considering how the demon had helped him today, and, well, the burger he's eating now certainly is delicious, in any case. It's a far cry from what he normally gets to eat at the castle, what with Barbatos nagging at him each dinner to finish his vegetables.

As if on cue to his thoughts, the butler in question bursts into the kitchen right at that moment, marching past all the staff directly towards them. "Young Master! Are you alright?!"

It's a relief to see his loyal companion, though Diavolo grimaces nonetheless, bracing himself for the inevitable scolding he's surely about to receive. "Hello, Barbatos. You've found me."

To his surprise, however, Barbatos's expression softens, and he doesn't remark about the prince's little escapade out of the castle. "Yes, Young Master. I have come to bring you home. I heard about what happened at the parade. I'm glad to see you are unharmed."

"Oh, yes, I have this gentleman here to thank for that!" Diavolo answers, perking up and gesturing towards the owner with the burger still in hand. "He helped me out of the crowd and brought me here to rest. We will have to prepare something to repay him when I return."

The restaurant owner tips his head in a bow with exaggerated modesty. "Oh, no need for all that, Your Highness. All I ask is that you grace us with your presence again sometime."

The butler's eyes narrow at the greasy wrapper, and he clicks his tongue lightly in disapproval, though not loudly enough for the others to hear. Junk food. They certainly do owe the demon for helping the young prince, but he'd rather Diavolo not eat such foods again. He is, however, proper enough not to let his disapproval show in his voice, answering smoothly, "No, I do believe you are owed a great debt for helping His Highness. We must reward you for it, I insist. I shall take care of it, Young Master."

With a curt bow, he adds, "We should be going now, however. If you'll excuse us."

"Ah, wait just a second, before you go," the owner answers. "I have something to give you, so wait just one moment please." He disappears out to the front of the restaurant and returns almost immediately with a small bag, which he hands to Diavolo. "Here, for you. A birthday present."

Diavolo gives him an inquisitive look, but Barbatos gives him a warning smile and reminds him of the time, ushering him out as quickly as possible.

"Come, let us hurry to get you ready before the party tonight. What did he give you, by the way?" the butler asks, as they make their way back.

Diavolo reaches inside and pulls out a souvenir plush of him in a purple mask, much less extravagant than his actual one and decorated with the words "Hell's Kitchen Halloween" stitched across the top.

And, hidden underneath, he can see a similar mask in life size peeking out, with a note: "For the next time you want to sneak out on your birthday. Come visit us common folk again soon. Happy Birthday, Your Highness."

A sly smile splits across Diavolo's face. "A birthday present. Just as he said."

#we initially planned this two years ago but then one of us didn't get the art done lmao (it was me...cosmos....)#so here it is finally!!!#chaos doesn't remember what they wrote anymore...sorry...#obey me diavolo #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #omnb #om diavolo #om! diavolo #happy birthday diavolo

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yanderes-galore · 3 months ago

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Maybe yandere master Ahsoka in a au where she never left the Jedi order and she gets a padawon , and she sees reader as family hcs please 🙏 🌙

Sure! I'm a bit rusty with her but I hope this alternate take based on her personality is good :)

Yandere! Platonic! Master! Ahsoka with Padawan! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Fear of loss, Slight manipulation, Violence, Isolation, Dubious companionship.

Jedi aren't meant to be close to many people...

Companionship, relationships, any sort of close bonds are frowned upon in The Order.

Suppressing such feelings is necessary for a Jedi to serve.

Ahsoka herself has learned how to do such things.

However... That doesn't mean she doesn't feel complex emotions.

The bond between Jedi and Padawan is a close one, but less distracting than most.

Many view their Padawan's like siblings, or a kid they couldn't have.

Such a bond is similar to how Ahsoka feels with you.

She herself had a close bond with her master, Anakin... before he went to the Dark Side.

While she may not agree with The Order all of the time, she's stuck with them for many missions.

Even right up until The Order fell.

Now, as a Jedi Master, it was only natural for Ahsoka to take a student of her own.

Ahsoka has always wanted to protect people.

She defends people and has given everything to the order.

She has the spirit of a Jedi... always caring and ready to solve problems.

Then The Order deemed her worthy to train you... a young Padawan to call her own.

Ahsoka doesn't expect taking care of a Padawan to be easy.

Jedi training is taxing on the mind and body, yet upon going on a few missions, you're proving to be capable.

You remind Ahsoka of how she was when she was younger.

Now she finally understands how Anakin felt when she was acting reckless and impulsive.

It's easy for Padawans to get carried away.

She'd know such a thing as she was once overly ambitious herself.

Yet she can tell you're not only brave... but loyal too.

Ahsoka had you as her Padawan before Order 66 was executed.

She may even still keep you under her wing after Order 66, wanting to keep you safe.

Ahsoka as your master seems like she'd give off either big sister vibes or mom vibes.

Either way she'd be protective of her Padawan, fully away from the dangers that the Galaxy has to offer.

She wants to teach you to follow your heart yet stay cautious.

She's kind to you yet also isn't afraid to scold you for your mistakes.

Ahsoka may actually be a good master for you.

The one issue I'm seeing?

Her fear.

Fear can poison a Jedi and their motives.

In fact, fear... love... and anger can poison a Jedi.

This is the reason Jedi aren't allowed to have personal connections.

Having a family, a relationship, or even children can be distractions.

If a Jedi can not control their emotions, they become vulnerable to the Dark Side.

Ahsoka's issue towards you would be the fear of losing you.

Especially after Order 66 in this AU.

She's lost many close to her, an unfortunate part of being a Jedi.

She's even lost her own master.

So, really, you'd be all she has as a Jedi master.

You're her student... the family she could never have....

Teaching you becomes increasingly hard due to these feelings.

Each time she sees you do something risky, she tries to be optimistic.

Yet she can't help but think of you getting hurt.

She wonders if The Order chose right...

She wonders... if she really is the right teacher for you.

But then you look at her with eager eyes.

It's such a familiar sight.

When she sees you so bright and determined, despite it all, she smiles.

Yes... Yes they must've chosen right.

They put you in her care.

So... She should take care of you the best she can.

No matter what.

I imagine this AU would also take place after Order 66.

During it, Ahsoka kept you close and defended you against every rogue clone she could.

She isn't sure what she'd do without her Padawan.

She definitely sees you as family, treating you protectively and always observing any who come close.

She is moralistic... but as she learned from Anakin...

Sometimes you have to bend the rules to do the right thing.

Killing people often happens as a Jedi, like it or not.

Ahsoka takes no joy in it... yet she'd do anything to protect you.

Speaking of which, after Order 66 she'd take you with her into hiding.

She can't really teach you when in hiding... as using the Force would get you both detected.

Ahsoka, as your master, would give you both a fake name to hide from the growing Empire.

After Order 66, Ahsoka views you even more as family.

Since she can't teach you to be a Jedi, you two really do end up adopting a familial role.

Be that siblings or mother and child... Ahsoka hates to admit it but she's attached.

She knows such a bond may poison her... yet The Order is no more.

You two may be Jedi at heart, yet nothing is stopping you from having personal connections now.

Ahsoka's biggest fear is losing you.

Be that by death or the Dark Side... both are just as bad.

Such thoughts are what make it hard for Ahsoka to let you mature.

At some points she coddles you, especially when you have to pretend to not be Jedi.

She's worried about letting you out into the world.

It's just... too dangerous right now.

One mistake and you could be hunted.

The thought makes Ahsoka worry more than she should.

In fact, it makes her isolate you.

Naturally you believe her subtle manipulation when she asks you to stay.

You trust her, you know she wouldn't let anyone harm you...

So, if pretending to be farmers is what you have to do, you'll do it.

Ahsoka cherishes the trust you hold for her.

Which is why she feels bad when she abuses it.

Ahsoka is mostly just... protective.

She wants a life where she'll always have you, and a quiet one away from the Empire happens to be on her mind.

Although, eventually, you'll want to leave her side.

Padawans naturally have to leave their masters at some point.

They deserve to be independent... and Ahsoka knows that...

But things have changed.

When you tell Ahsoka you wish to leave, to make a life of your own... she hesitates.

N-No... No, you really shouldn't.

She hates to say it, really does... but it isn't safe.

What if you get caught?

What if the Empire executes you after realizing you're a Jedi or... Force sensitive at the very least.

Or... what if they choose to use you as a weapon against her?

Ahsoka would try to convince you into staying with her.

All you need is each other... you've been through so much already...

Why don't you sit back and stay with her?

You can have a quiet life!

She understands you crave action... that you want to join the Rebellion...

She was once a similar way in her youth.

Yet, she may even Jedi mind trick you in an attempt to keep you safe.

Ahsoka keeps telling herself she's just... bending the rules.

What she's doing isn't wrong.

Keeping you in hiding at a farm isn't wrong.

Convincing forcing you to stay isn't wrong, either....

She's protecting you.

Cutting someone who knows your secrets down isn't bad either.

They were a threat to you

Tricking you is... underhanded but...

You need her.

Ahsoka looks after you because you're all she has now.

Many of her friends are gone, her master is gone, The Order is gone...

It's just you and her... alone in a galaxy that wants you dead...

However, Ahsoka will always protect you no matter the cost, you're all she has and she plans to keep you all to herself... under her protection... safe and sound.

#yandere star wars #yandere ahsoka tano #yandere star wars x reader #platonic yandere

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2plottwist · 4 months ago

Text

Don't Trust Strange Magic Portals

Summary: After completing the Gauntlet of Shar, you and your companions prepare to return to camp. However, Gale opts for a shortcut through the Weave using portals. A magical mishap occurs, leaving you and Astarion to navigate through multiple portals in search of the one that leads back to camp.

Pairing: Astarion x Female!reader

Warnings: None, just a funny little story

Word Count: 2k

Author: Kenna:)

A/N: The word "portal" will become non-existent to you after reading this story. I'm sorry, but I couldn't get this funny little story out of my head.

Your muscles screamed at you as your body whipped around, bringing your blade down on another Dark Justiciar. The sound of the metal hitting the hard floor was a satisfying clink that rang through your ears. As you scanned the room, you waited for another opponent to charge against you. Finding that the coast was clear, your back finally slumped, your long sword hitting the floor in that familiar clink.

“Well,” Gale’s voice pipes up from beside you, “That was a riveting experience!”

You look up at him, you tired eyes hating the fact that he’s still optimistic and happy after our battle. “We almost died!” The whining voice of Astarion shouts across the room.

“Yes, but we learned something.” Gale smiles, pointing a dirt covered finger to the air.

You sheath your sword, stretching your sore arms into the air, “And what did we learn, exactly? Other than the fact that Astarion can’t hit anyone with an arrow even from high ground.”

“Hey!” He whined again in offense.

“We learned that we work fantastic as a team!” Gale’s chirping voice grates against your battle worn ears.

You roll your eyes meeting Astarion’s, his expression matching yours. As you wipe the blood off your skin, your eyes move to Shadowheart, kneeling in the middle of the small room. Her shoulders shake as stares at the rubble covered floor.

“Shadowheart?” You whisper, moving over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She rises quickly, shaking your hand off, “I’m fine. Let’s go.” Her face was completely emotionless and unfeeling. Her eyes look numb and heartbroken after losing the favor of her goddess.

“Wonderful idea!” Gale chimes again, you have to fight the feeling of rolling your eyes. “Let me make a portal through the weave to our camp. It’ll be a lot easier than hiking through those cursed lands.”

Gale's hands begin to move in extravagant circles, purple tendrils floating from his hands and arms. Shadowheart floats close to Gale, waiting for the portal to open to the one place she feels safest. As you wipe crusted blood and dirt off your skin, a glinting light catches your eye.

You snap your eyes to the light. As it shines again, your curiosity overcomes the soreness of your muscles, causing your feet to begin moving. The small ornate chest was placed in a small room off the side of your battlefield. The arched doorway gave way to a smaller, dark room. Rubble still decorating the floor, dust covered the snuffed out torches. The only available light shining through a moonscreen on the ceiling.

As you reach the small ornate chest, you find that the lid was locked. You try to open it with brute force, maybe it’s old enough to just open. It didn’t. You sigh, dropping to your knees in front of the dark wooden chest.

The sound of footsteps caused your eyes to look over your shoulder. The blood soaked and dust covered vampire spawn walked slowly over to you, observing the walls and sconces. “Need my expertise?” He quips, kneeling down next to you.

Your body was too tired, your throat too dry to answer. You just move over the slightest bit to allow him room to pick the lock. His hands move quickly, his shoulders swiped against yours a few times, shooting chills through your bones.

You stared at his profile, his beautiful face being illuminated by the moonlight flowing through the ceiling. As he pops the chest open, you shake your head, pushing the thoughts of his lips against yours out of your mind.

You look inside the shallow box to see a regular crossbow, rotten tomato, and a scroll of Speak To The Dead. You sigh in defeat, “So much for that.” You mumble as you reach inside and take the small scroll.

You rise as soon as a huge flash of purple lights up the small room and a thunderous sound that pushes yours and Astarion’s backs into the rubble on the ground. Your back screamed in pain and your head throbbed. The large explosion still raced through your body, magic vibrating your skin as your eyes blinked open. The blur finally gave way to clear vision again.

You looked around, holding your throbbing head. You felt large hands grab your arm and waist. “What in the nine hells was that?” Astarion’s shocked voice moved through your ears, slightly dulling your headache.

His hands were a nice feeling against your body as he pulled you to your feet. You stretched your body again, noting each of the painful feelings. Astarion retracted his hands as your spine straightened. You tried to move toward the archway, but quickly tripped over a piece of rubble.

Astarion’s hands shoot to your waist again. “Come now,” Astarion chuckles, “I thought you would be more graceful after a life-threatening magical explosion.”

You scoff, cherishing the support Astarion’s hand provides to your waist. You walk forward and slide over the rubble piling under the archway. Your mind still reels with battle bludgeoned thoughts and your throbbing skull. Your eyes scan across the larger room, several purple portals spread across the expanse.

“Gale?” You shout, causing a sharp pain to bounce against your skull.

No answer.

“Shadowheart?” You ask the room again.

The metallic taste of magic fills your mouth as you observe the portals surrounding you. “Did they… leave us?” Astarion’s voice drips with worry and fear.

“Gale, this isn’t funny. Close the damn portals and let us go to camp.” You groan, bringing your hands up to your temples. You can’t handle any more shit today.

There was still no answer.

“What in the hells are we going to do?” Astarion asks, shifting closer to you, moving his eyes to watch your dazed ones over his shoulder.

“I guess we try one out.” You state plainly, walking to the center of the room.

He scoffs, following you closely, “Are you insane?!”

His voice, while always being your favorite sound, felt like knives against your throbbing head. You wince as your eyes scan the portals again, deciding which one to try first. Your instinct pushes you towards the first one on your right. You step towards it, bringing your hand up. You can feel the warm embrace of the magic against your palm.

As you extend your arm towards the circling magic, Astarion’s hands roughly grab your waist, moving you quickly away from the portal. “You are insane. You can’t just walk into strange magical portals like that. Were you raised in a barn?” He chides, dragging you away from your chosen portal.

“I don’t want to walk all the way back to camp.” You whine, your body screaming to just drop to the floor and sleep.

“I don’t trust this magic.” He narrows his eyes at the numerous portals.

You sigh, turning away from him and towards another portal to your right, “You don’t trust anything.”

Before you could hear his remark, you step into the purple light. A slight whooshing moves past your ears, your hair flies around your face and a warm embrace envelopes your body. You close your eyes, relishing in the comforting feeling then your feet hit the hard floor. You open your eyes to see the back of Astarion’s head.

“You’re right. That’s why I’ve lived this long.” His sarcastic voice moves through the air.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You say.

Astarion’s body whips around, eyes widening in surprise. His eyes move to the portal you just went through then back to you, pointing at each, trying to make sense of what just happened.

While dazed and confused, you still came up with a conclusion faster than he did. “Fuck.”

“Yes, that seems to be the correct word for this unfortunate situation.” Astarion snaps, looking around the room again, trying to decipher what portal would lead you back to camp. “Let’s try this one.” He smiles, walking over to another.

“I thought you didn’t trust strange magic portals.” You quip sarcastically.

“There should be one that led Gale and Shadowheart back to camp and left us here. If the rest of them are just going to lead back to this room, might as well try them out.” He smiles smugly as he steps into another portal.

You stand still, scanning the room, waiting for his body to appear again at another portal. You hear another whooshing sound then a wet slapping sound against the floor. You look to the other side of the room to find a sopping wet Astarion, anger radiating off his features. Water drips off his sodden hair, coating every inch of his body.

You do your best to hide your laughter, but you can’t help the loud snort that leaves your mouth. “Not. A. Word.” He states, stomping over to where you are, ire emanating off his body.

You can’t help it, his words coming back to bite him in the ass is too hilarious. His body straightens, shivers racking his body from the apparently very cold water. You wipe your smirk off your face and move toward the next portal.

As you step through, the familiar warm embrace wraps around you. Your feet hit soft soil. You smile, knowing that you’re back at camp but the missing smell of smoke confuses your senses. You open your eyes to see a large field of wildflowers laid out before you. The large tree that the portal sits under has soft white petals gracing the wind and tangling in your hair.

You shake your head and sigh in defeat. The pain radiating through your body and the throbbing in your head only makes this whole situation just that more frustrating. You step back through the portal and shake your head at Astarion.

“Now that’s just not fair!” He whines, “You get beautiful flowers in your hair and I get the godsdamn ocean.” He sighs as wet footsteps slap their way over to you. A giggle rises in your throat. “Let’s just walk back. It can’t be that far.”

“Let me just try one more.” You smile softly, “I have a good feeling about this one.” You point at the one sitting in front of you two.

Another exasperated sigh leaves Astarion’s mouth, “Fine, but I’m going to do it and if I don’t get flowers and rainbows, I’m going to rain hellsfire down on that boot eating wizard.”

You laugh and motion for his go-ahead, “How noble of you.”

“Thank you.” Astarion nods his head and sticks his hand into the portal, quickly wincing and shutting his eyes.

When there seemed to be no pain or water on the other side of the portal, Astarion moves his whole body through. You follow suit, allowing the warm embrace to again envelope your sore muscles.

“There you are!” A chirping voice broke through the embrace, “And you’re wet.”

Gale’s voice boomed across the camp and towards the open portal you and Astarion stood in front of.

“You left us there!!” Astarion shouted, causing another pounding sensation in your head.

A confused expression washes over Gale, his eye brows furrow. “I left the portal open for you.” He states, motioning to the circling portal.

“Yes,” Astarion coos softly, “and about a hundred other portals!”

“Oh,” Gale drops his eyes, bringing his hand up to his chin. A motion he does when he’s thinking, “I guess my magic responded poorly to my conjuration spell. The magic of Shar must have multiplied the portals and twisted them into their own doorways.”

“Wow, a scholar, ladies and gentleman!” Astarion motions to the camp, but he turns toward you, taking your waist again and pulling your arm over your shoulder, “Let’s get you fixed up before Gale pushes us into a portal to Avernus.”

You sigh, putting all your weight on his body and allowing him to lead you to your tent. His touch reminds you of the warm embrace of the portals whooshing and moving across your skin. “At least we learned something!” You chime, mocking Gale’s previous words, causing Astarion to groan in frustration.

#bg3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #astarion x tav

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jae-bummer · 1 year ago

Text

Wrong Number

Request: Can I request n° 14 from your prompt list with shownu or woozi pls 🥺omg I love your works 💗💗

Prompt:

14) You accidentally send a text meant for your ex to the wrong number. Your bias replies.

Pairing: Seventeen Woozi x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Song rec as you read: Still Here (Acoustic Ver.) - ATEEZ

Chewing on your lip, you stared down at your phone screen, tapping it lightly whenever it began to dim. All you had to do was hit send.

You read the message over and over again, trying to determine if it sounded like you were trying too hard. After nearly ten different variations of the same message, you deleted it all again and settled for something a little more profound.

Hey :)

Was the smiley face too much? You didn't want to seem too eager. Maybe you should - shit, you brushed against the send button.

Flying into a bit of a panic, you decided it would be the best course of action to send another message.

It was really good seeing you yesterday! I hadn't expected us to bump into each other, but I'm glad we did.

You took a deep breath before tapping send again.

That was a little better. If he had deleted your number, at least now he could figure out who you were via context clues.

Leaning back into your couch, you wished the cushions would simply swallow you up. You were mortified with your increased heartbeat. How could you let yourself get so worked up over a guy who had broken up with you?

And it wasn't a delicate breakup. You had been seeing him for nearly a year when he decided to tell you (through text you might add) that it simply wasn't working out anymore. He was your first real boyfriend since coming to Seoul, so you could admit that part of you would always hold a soft spot for him.

That's why, when you bumped into him at a cafe yesterday, you couldn't stop your stomach from plunging to your toes. He was still just as beautiful as you had remembered. Asking for his contact information felt like a fever dream now. At some point in your post-breakup anger, you had deleted any of his information that still lived in your phone. To save face, you told him you lost all of your contacts after getting a new device.

You couldn't quite remember if he had mentioned meeting to catch up or if it was you, but you left the experience in a daze. It took you hours to talk yourself into taking the plunge and sending that text. Now all there was left to do was wait.

It had been only minutes before you heard the high-pitched ding.

Vulnerability was not your strong suit. Even something as simple as allowing yourself to hope was a dangerous route to go down, so you tried to squash the optimistic butterflies that sprang up in your stomach before they could take flight.

Steeling yourself, you finally looked at the screen.

wrong number

You jerked backward as if you had been slapped. Maybe he hadn't picked up on the context clues after all.

It's Y/N. You gave me your number, remember?

Surely you hadn't dreamed up the entire interaction. He must not have been expecting you to actually text. Well, that stung a bit.

You flinched as your phone dinged an instant later.

still wrong number

You double checked the contact you had texted and felt your face grow flush. Your stomach felt hollow. Did your ex seriously give you a fake number?

Just so we're clear...this isn't a joke...right? This really isn't Jae?

Typing bubbles immediately appeared.

nope. sorry.

You blinked dumbly at the screen. God, how could you have been so stupid?

Woozi tilted his head as he glanced at the screen. When he had read the first message, he automatically assumed his number had been leaked again. It wasn't a common occurrence, but it was known to happen on occasion. After the second message came through shortly after, he narrowed his eyes. He hadn't even left his studio yesterday.

"What's up?" Hoshi asked, shifting to sit up from his lounging position on the couch.

"Wrong number," Woozi muttered, placing his phone face down beside his keyboard.

"Weird," Hoshi hummed.

Woozi's phone vibrated again, causing him to sigh.

"I thought it was a wrong number," Hoshi chuckled.

"I did too," Woozi grumbled, typing back a quick response. He had no idea who Y/N was or how they got ahold of his number, so he was certainly not who they were looking for.

After his phone vibrated again, he let out a small huff.

"What is going on over there?" Hoshi laughed, now moving to hunch over the shorter member's shoulder.

"Nothing," Woozi said shortly, attempting to set his phone back down before Hoshi snatched it from his hand.

"Aw," he clucked, holding the device high enough into the air that Woozi knew he would look ridiculous trying to jump for it. "Well, that's sad."

"Yep," Woozi groaned. "Now give it back."

"Wait," Hoshi chuckled, now typing quickly on the screen. "I need the tea."

"You need the what?" Woozi asked, now increasingly annoyed. Choosing to make a fool of himself after all, he began to hop around Hoshi, tugging at his arms in a futile attempt to get the phone back.

"The tea," Hoshi clarified. "Let's live vicariously through someone else's misery."

"I have enough of my own," Woozi groaned. "Now give it back."

"Ooooh," Hoshi said, spinning so his back faced the other man. "Jae is the ex-boyfriend."

Woozi rolled his eyes. "Why do you care?"

"Oh my god, he gave them this number," Hoshi gasped. "He ghosted them and doxed you in the process."

"Doxing requires them knowing who I am," Woozi sighed, crossing his arms. "And it sounds like all of this was just a coincidence. Now, please give me my phone and leave me alone."

"Fine," Hoshi pouted, dropping it into Woozi's palm. "Party pooper."

Shaking his head, Woozi plopped back into his desk chair and went back to work. After a few minutes, he had completely forgotten all about the person who had texted him and brought their misfortune to his doorstep.

Or at least he thought he did.

After hitting a wall while creating a new song, he looked idly around the room in search of inspiration. This was the hardest part of his job, having to work around the writer's block.

Lifting a brow, his gaze settled on his cell.

Flipping it back over, he tapped through it aimlessly before finally settling on the chat that Hoshi had continued.

who's jae btw???

Hoshi and his need for unnecessary punctuation.

He's my ex-boyfriend. He said this number was his. Prepare yourself for any other jilted lovers that might be heading your way.

Woozi shook his head. Why couldn't people just be straightforward with each other?

ugh that's the worst. i'm so sorry.

It was the worst and Woozi was sorry. That didn't mean that he wanted Hoshi to continue the conversation.

Thanks :) I appreciate that. I'll stop bothering you and crawl back into my hole now.

Woozi set down his phone and turned back to his screen. He had been in his share of unsuccessful relationships and seen plenty amongst his members. In none of those situations had something like this happened before.

Clicking through various windows for a few moments, he heaved a deep sigh before grabbing his phone again. Before he could think better of it, he began to type.

you doing ok?

It was short and not too invasive. He wasn't looking for any new friends, but he could at least be a decent human being. Plus, this could be just the inspiration he needed to continue his song. Heartbreaks were always a hit.

...

You squinted blearily into the darkness of your bedroom.

you up?

Chuckling to yourself, you turned the brightness down on your phone before responding.

Lee Jihoon, you DID NOT just send me a "u up?" text.

The response came shortly after.

i used "you" not "u." give me some credit.

Rolling your eyes, you settled back into your pillows with a smile. It had been about a month since you had purposefully texted your ex, while accidentally texting Woozi. You hadn't expected for anything to come out of the situation and there was definitely no way that you would've seen this turn of events coming.

You liked him. Against your better judgement, you were crushing on a complete stranger that happened his way into your life. At this point, you had exchanged countless texts, hours on the phone, and photos of your day. Woozi worked a lot, so on occasion, you would even sit on FaceTime and work quietly together. Just having each other for company was comforting in a way that you hadn't found with another person in quite some time. It had all been a bit of a shock, but you complimented each other well.

On several occasions, you had attempted to meet up, but life was hard for both of you. With Woozi's schedules, it was difficult to stay on the same square in the calendar. Admittedly, you had been the one to cancel once or twice as well, but the time had finally come. You were supposed to meet today.

Which made Woozi's text all the more concerning.

Is this the part where you have to cancel on our plans today?

You glanced at the time, noting it was still the early morning hours. Either he hadn't gone to bed yet, or he was waking up much too soon.

ye of little faith.

i'm not cancelling. i'm just not sleeping well.

You lifted a brow. Normally, he wasn't one to be prejudice against a sleeping situation. Since he got so little of it, he often could fall asleep anytime, anywhere.

That is, unless his brain was working overtime.

What's got your brain going this time?

You waited only seconds.

you

You inhaled sharply. Woozi was generally a direct person. Getting him to talk about his emotions, and more specifically, his opinion of you, was a bit more difficult though. Sometimes he was able to speak in such a straight way that it caught you off guard. Other times, he relied on the soft, quiet moments in between to really convey how he felt.

Me?

This time, he typed for a while.

yes, you i'm probably only saying this bc i can be a coward behind a keyboard BUT i'm nervous about today in a good way but...another part of me is scared that we're putting each other on these pedestals that are much too tall. how can reality actually reflect the image of you that my mind has created?

You sniffed in amusement.

It would have been much easier to say you're scared that this is too good to be true.

The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared several times. You knew he was going to come back with something sassy.

i don't do "easy" well, y/n

He had that right.

Rolling over onto your side, you chewed your lip. You could easily admit that you probably had an idealized version of Woozi in your head. It was hard not to when you got to see the best parts of each other every day. That being said, it didn't mean that that image was wrong. It just wasn't factoring in the darker side of his personality. Everyone had one and you wouldn't fault him for being human.

It'll work out. We both know that there's still so much to learn about each other. We just need to be patient and have a little faith.

He hearted your response before his own appeared.

my y/n. so wise.

Your heart fluttered at the simple words. Seeing him acknowledge that you were his made you feel full. You knew you were right. Everything would work out fine.

....

Spinning your phone around on the tabletop, your brain warred against you. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Unlike most people your age, you had never met with someone from the internet before, let alone a stranger you had accidentally texted in a fit of love sickness. Woozi had insisted that he had never done anything like this before either, so that brought at least a small amount of solace.

Plus, everyone you had ever met had been a stranger at one point.

And Woozi really hadn't been what you would consider a "stranger" for some time now.

You looked up from the cafe table for the hundredth time as someone entered.

Still not him.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded to yourself. Everything would be alright. You had told Woozi as much this morning. Now it was time to believe it.

"Hey stranger," a familiar voice hummed from above you. Glancing up, you met the shining, dark eyes you had only ever seen on a phone screen. It felt surreal.

"Jihoon," you breathed, a smile stretching across your lips.

"Well, come on," he clucked, motioning for you to stand. You did as directed, nearly forgetting to breath as he wrapped you in a quick hug.

"Sorry," he said, pulling away almost instantly. "I should've asked if you were okay with physical affection. Are you?"

You nodded weakly, trying to find a coherent thought through the cloud of Woozi's scent. He didn't smell strongly of anything aside from clean laundry, but it was enough to catch you off guard. He was in front of you, looking gorgeous and smelling comforting. It almost felt impossible.

"You sure?" he asked, his mouth hitching up at the corner. He slid into the seat across from where you were sitting.

Plopping dumbly back into your own seat, you shook your head. Get ahold of yourself, Y/N.

"Sorry," you croaked. "I'm just trying to...uh...wrap my brain around...well, you."

Woozi smiled, his cheeks going slightly pink. "I know what you mean."

Glancing around the cafe, he set his hands in front of him. "Let's just wait a moment...to take everything in?"

You nodded, immediately allowing yourself to look at him directly. His cuteness definitely transferred to how he looked in person. He wore his hair as you usually saw it, dark, long, and slightly wavy. He had a solid jawline and a cute, button nose (the deadliest combination). His shoulders and arms were much wider and more muscular than you had expected, which was both attractive and terrifying.

Overall, he was breathtaking.

He seemingly refused to look at you though. Continuing his search around his surroundings, you noticed his fingers slowly begin to creep toward yours. Halting before they got to their destination, he deigned a glimpse your way.

"You were right," he said quietly.

"That's good to hear," you grinned. "But what about?"

Finally placing his hand on top of yours, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "I wanted this before, but now that I have you in front of me, I want to know everything. The pedestal was high, but you're still sitting on top of it."

You were positive you were about to short circuit. Who just walked around saying things like that?

"Who would have thought," you managed. "That I would have an ex-boyfriend to thank for giving me the wrong number."

#woozi #jihoon #lee jihoon #svt #seventeen #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #woozi fanfic #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic

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kookie-doughs · 1 year ago

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Daddy Cupid

Modern!Various One Piece Men X Reader

-When your father grows weary of your single life, he takes it upon himself to play matchmaker. With him knowing the entire city, he embarks on a mission to find you the perfect match.

Chapter 2: Cupid's Arrow

As you approach the condo, the guard recognizes you and opens the door with a smile and a nod, familiar with your face.

Having a spare key, you simply let yourself in and crash onto the sofa.

"Y/N," a voice calls from behind you.

With your face planted on the couch, all you can manage is a muffled "Heyy."

The man groans, and hearing his footsteps walking away, you finally turn to face upright.

"Smokeyyyy..."

"What?" he replies from the bathroom, where he's brushing his teeth.

"I fell for Dad's tactics again..."

His head peeks out of the bathroom as he rinses his mouth. "Who is it this time?"

"Edward's son..." you sigh, realizing you've been roped into another matchmaking setup.

"Well, that can't be that bad," Smoker remarks optimistically.

"You say that, but all the dates Dad has set up for me so far are weirdos," you retort, listing off your previous experiences.

"They're not weirdos."

"King tried to rope me into his cult. Kuro is obsessed with cats, and his two cats are hideous. Pretty sure he also had a knife play kink. And Cracker plays with his food like he's 7."

"Marco isn't that bad from what I heard," Smoker offers.

"Who's Marco?" you inquire.

"Edward's son. He just moved here a few weeks ago. He's a doctor," Smoker explains.

"Ugh, you're supposed to talk shit about this, don't list off his good traits. Do you not want me to marry at 40?" you complain, frustrated with Smoker's positive outlook.

"You're hopeless. Come on, I'm on duty," Smoker insists, pulling you up.

"Can't I just stay hereeeee...." you whine.

"No," Smoker says firmly, pushing you out and closing the door behind you both.

You pout as Smoker escorts you out, and you protest, Smoker sighed. "If you want someone who'd shit on people, go visit Buggy or something."

"Fine, maybe I will!" you stomp away, and Smoker follows you silently.

Before you part ways, he ruffles your hair and says, "See ya later. Good luck on your date," with a smirk. Leaving you more upset.

As you mumble under your breath and scrunch your face in frustration, you become distracted and fail to pay attention to where you're walking.

"You're in the way!"

In a moment of carelessness, you accidentally get hit by a bike, causing you to stumble and fall to the ground. As you and the man on the bike fall, you quickly look up to see who it is. Your eyes meet his, and you both take a moment to assess the situation. You find yourself face to face with a tall and imposing figure. The man had a considerable stature, with a strong and well-built frame. He has black, curly hair cut to chin length that fans out at the tips, tanned skin, and an altogether lean, long build.

Your upsetness quickly takes over, and you glare at the man who bumped into you.

"This was a sidewalk, why are you even here!" you snap.

"Bikes are allowed on this sidewalk. Why weren't you paying attention?" he grumbles in response.

"You ruined my clothes!" you exclaim.

"You ruined my bike."

"No, I didn't!" you argue, pointing at the perfectly okay bike that was just on the ground.

"Fine, maybe my bike is fine, but you're still at fault," he concedes, getting up and dusting himself off before picking up his bike.

You hurriedly get up, not wanting him to divert from the issue at hand. However, you wince when a sudden pain shoots through your wrist as you try to push yourself up, causing you to clutch it in discomfort.

The man looks at your wrist and, despite his grumbling, takes your hand to examine it. You wince in pain and pull your hand away from him.

He then pulls out his wallet and hands you a paper. "Calling card. Get that checked, then call me. Sorry for the trouble," he mutters, seeming somewhat remorseful.

"Shouldn't you take me to somewhere I can get checked instead of telling me to go alone?" you glare at him, frustrated by his lack of assistance.

"I'm busy. Anyways, just call me," he says as he starts to leave, showing little interest in staying to help further.

You trudge to the closest hospital or clinic you can find, nursing your injured wrist. The nurse at the front desk helps you fill out the necessary paperwork, and you take a seat in the waiting area.

After a while, the doctor emerges from his room, the doctor was a tall, lean, muscular man with blond hair and a rather sleepy look on his face sporting some stubble around his chin. The doctor briefly speaks with an elderly lady, cautioning her to be careful, before turning his attention to the nurse and inquiring about the next patient to see.

The nurse calls for you, and you make your way to the doctor's room. The doctor, with a sweet smile, welcomes you inside.

"So, Ms. L/N, for a broken wrist?" he reads from your paperwork.

You nod and reply, "Y-Yeah, an asshole bumped into me..."

He chuckles sympathetically and looks at you as you cradle your injured wrist. "May I?"

"O-Oh, right," you say, realizing he needs to examine it. Slowly, you hand your hand over to him, and he gently takes it, carefully inspecting your wrist. He proceeds to move it and perform various examinations.

"Well, I'll just wrap it up and keep it on for two weeks. You can't let this get wet, and I'd suggest you remove it when you sleep," he advises, outlining the treatment plan for your broken wrist.

"Also, from your paperwork, it said you got hit by a bike. You might have bruises or something, would you want me to check those too?" the doctor inquires.

"Uh, sure..." you agree, realizing that it's probably a good idea to make sure you haven't sustained any other injuries from the accident.

The doctor carefully examined you, paying attention to any potential injuries beyond your broken wrist. After a thorough check, he pointed out, "Well, it seems you have an abrasion at the back of your thigh, and there's another one on your ankle."

You blinked in surprise, realizing you hadn't even noticed those injuries. "Oh, I didn't even notice."

The doctor chuckled at your response. "Perhaps its the adrenaline from the accident must have masked the pain. It happens more often than you'd think. I'll clean and dress these wounds for you, so they don't get infected."

After the doctor dressed your wounds and provided you with the necessary care, you paid for the medical services and expressed your gratitude before leaving the clinic.

With your wrist securely wrapped and your minor injuries tended to, you made your way to Buggy's place.

You knock on the door, and it's answered by a slim, well-endowed woman with dark-green eyes and long, wavy black hair. She greets you with a scowl, clearly not pleased with your presence.

"Who are you?" she scoffs, crossing her arms defensively.

"Don't worry, I'm not here for you," you reply dismissively, pushing past her to enter the room. She gasps at your audacity.

She quickly runs to the couch, where you spot a familiar redheaded figure watching TV. She jumps into his arms, and you roll your eyes at the dramatic display before knocking on Buggy's room, eager to get this meeting over with.

As you knock on Buggy's room, the redhead inside turns to see who's entered. His eyes light up with excitement when he sees you, and he quickly pushes away the woman who was in his arms.

"My love! Y/N~ You couldn't help but come for me, hmm~?" Shanks exclaims, trying to pull you closer.

"Is Bug home?" you ask, trying to keep the conversation on track.

"I am~ Do you still need him~?" Shanks sings, pulling you closer once more. Annoyed, you grab his ear, causing him to hiss in pain. "Ow owowowow!!!"

"Yes or no?" you demand.

"He's asleep!!!!" He finally answers, albeit reluctantly.

Pushing Shanks away, you roll your eyes and decide to call Buggy directly. You pick up your phone and dial his number, not wanting to deal with any more unnecessary drama in the room.

In the background, you can hear the woman and Shanks starting to argue, but you pay them no mind as you patiently wait for Buggy to answer your call.

Buggy picks up the phone after a few rings, and you quickly inform him of your presence.

"I'm outside, open your door," you instruct.

You hear some commotion and noises from inside the room, and then the door swings open. "H-Hi!" Buggy stammers.

Without wasting any time, you push him back into the room and close the door behind you, not wanting to deal with Shanks or the woman any longer.

"Bug, Smokey didn't comfort me," you complain, turning your attention to Buggy.

"Comfort you why?" Buggy asks, looking genuinely confused.

"Dad got me another date..." you sigh in exasperation.

"Again?? Didn't he promise not to?" Buggy questions, clearly surprised.

"I know, right?! He never keeps his promise! I told him I'm moving to mom's if he doesn't keep this promise."

Buggy raises an eyebrow. "Who's your date this time?" he inquires, curious about the latest candidate your father has selected.

"Smokey said his name is Marco. I don't know him, though..." you explain.

Buggy chuckles and says, "I bet he's an ass too."

"THANK YOU!!!" you exclaim, rolling your eyes. "Smokey said he's amazing," you mock, emphasizing the word 'amazing' with a sarcastic tone.

"Oh, I bet he also said how this one might be the right one!" Buggy adds, catching onto the pattern of your father's matchmaking attempts.

"EXACTLY OMG!!" you reply, the frustration evident in your voice. It seems both you and Buggy share a similar skepticism about these setups.

"Why not just ask your dad to help you with Hawkeye," Buggy suggests.

You flush and retort, "Shut up, you clown."

"It was just a suggestion. You want him anyway," He insists.

"He has kids," you remind him.

Buggy smirks and teases, "What a dilf, am I right?"

"You're the worst, omg! I have a date tomorrow, hellooooo!" you exclaim, exasperated by his antics.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

HI GUYS I'VE WRITTEN AND ALMOST FINISHED DOFFY'S STORY BCUZ UHM I KNOW I SAID THIS STORY WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OWNED BY MARCO BUT I FELL IN LOVE WITH DOFFY AGAIN

I'll be writing either Marco, Katakuri or Aokiji next I'll let you know who ill write

im letting you guys know in case you want changes and as ive said before characters thats been written are not receiving change of tropes

to clarify stuff too i wasnt going to make this a harem but perhaps some people got the wrong idea

these are separate stories sharing the universe where Y/N will go down the route of romance for this character sometimes they'll make references from the other stories if i can think of funny ones but yes

i hope you guys enjoy this story thanm you so much for all your supports!!

-kookiedoughs

Taglist?

@nykie-love-anime @gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @angstylittleb1tch @valen-yamyam16 @melodyidk @anicega @littlegreekgirl1 @rebeccawinters

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itsnothingofinterest · 5 months ago

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You know, I saw a post the other day talking about if Deku should get OFA back. OP thought he should, but interestingly, said they'd think different if Shigaraki was alive and saved. OFA was sacrificed for him, it'd be okay to say gone if that carried through; but since it didn't, Deku should get it back. (The actual post probably explained the reasoning better, but I can't find it now.)

I found it interesting, because it got me thinking how I'm kind of in the exact opposite boat. If Shigaraki had lived and gotten saved, I'd be okay with Deku getting back the power he sacrificed. (It's even what happened in my write up of how I wish the final fight had gone.) But since he failed and Shigaraki is dead and gone, I feel OFA should share that fate instead of returning to Deku.

I mean if Shigaraki were saved, not only would that have allowed for better, less contrived ways for Deku to get OFA back if the guy who's got it still exists (maybe Tomura giving the quirk back to somehow heal in Deku or something); but it'd make perfect narrative sense to reward the kid for getting the perfect impossible save he was seemingly aiming for by letting his dream continue. From every angle, that combination of events just makes more sense to me

Plus, if we ever got that continuation that suddenly I am the only one not talking about; it'd have been sick as hell for Deku & Shigaraki to team up in the future, Goku & Piccolo style. All for One & One for All finally united for a common cause as the naming convention implied they were always meant to. Honestly that was the ending I was hoping for until 423 shattered those dreams like it did Shigaraki.

But that's not what happened. OFA was destroyed twice over. Shigaraki died. And as much as people like to hype up the impact of Deku's 2-panel speech on holding hands, he basically failed to save Tomura in any real meaningful way. Couldn't save him from hero society, couldn't save him from AFO, couldn't even save his life. In fact he basically threw Tomura to each of those fates. This previously hopeful and optimistic story suddenly decided it was a tragedy. And in tragedies, miracles don't happen to suddenly make things go the hero's way; when they fail, they're punished, not rewarded.

It's pretty hard to see a story like that decide to somehow give OFA back to Deku when whatever was left of it died alongside Shigaraki.

#bnha #shigaraki tomura #paranormal liberation front #PLF #miroriya izuku #one for all #all for one

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suugrpop · 2 years ago

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ONLY IF YOU WANT TO | chapter one

Pairing: Bradley 'rooster' Bradshaw x female reader

Summary: When you ask your childhood friend to be your fake boyfriend for a week, his feelings show and you're a complete mess.

Author's note: This one's a little bit longer but I hope you enjoy. Sorry for not posting, finals are making me crazy. Send help.

"Bradley! I need you right now! " You screamed at the top of your lungs. He was sitting in the sofa watching a football match with Hangman.

"What is it now, Y/N."

"It's in private. Please." You say, giving Hangman a forgiving look because you destroyed their "besties night". Bradley gets up and you take him to your room to talk. You and Bradley are sitting on your bed.

"Promise me you're not gonna get angry".

He has a drunk look on his face, probably because he had too many beers already

."My auntie says he wants to meet my boyfriend". Bradley gives you a confused look.

"I told her I had one because if not I'm going to marry a wooer she picked for me."

"But, you're single, aren't you?". He asks, taking another sip to of beer.

"Not anymore. Because you're gonna be my fake boyfriend". You said, trying to sound optimistic. His head falls into his hands. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"So, what do you think?." Fuck. You fucked up. And good.

"This isn't a great idea, you know? Lying to your aunt and everything." Bradley says.

" We can make a deal. Remember that blonde girl that you talked to the other night at the Hard Deck? I think she likes you. I can get you a date with her if you go with me to to meet my auntie." You replied.

"Well, if you put it like that... Then it's a promise."

"Really?" You screamed of happiness. Just thinking about not wanting to marry that jerk made you happy. You hugged him so hard he needed to pat your back asking for air.

The next few days, you've been trying to find any information about the girl at the Hard Deck. You only found that her name was Sarah, and she was into pilots. She was pretty, you didn't denied it. Long, blonde hair (the type of the hair you'd whish you have, but you were a pilot, and your job didn't allow you to have long hair) and blue eyes. You could stare at her all day, but you don't want to see like a stalker, so your eyes go back to your drink.

You notice how some footsteps approach to you, and from the corner of your eye, it's her. You take a deep breath and relax your muscles.

"Do I know you. You've been staring at me all night". How couldn't you? She was everything you wanted to be.

"Uhm.. it's nothing". You tried to say without sounding nervous.

"You know who Rooster Is, right?" She gave a surprising look. You got her.

"Of course I know him. We met here. In fact I'm waiting for him for a second date." He didn't told you he already had a second date with her. Then, why are you here? You promise him you'll get him a date with her, but it seems he doesn't needs you. He really doesn't have to try, just look at him. He's a really hot guy, and a pilot.

"That's amazing! I know you're going to have fun with him. I don't want to ruin your date, so I'll get going. Goodnight."

You tried to sound excited, finally happy to see Bradley with someone he loves. He only had one night stands and causally dates, but maybe this one's for real. You picked up your things and say goodbye to Penny.

When you arrive home, you take s shower and go to bed. Your mind's still thinking about Bradley. Why didn't he told you anything about that date? Probably because he's busy.

A week has passedd, and the day finally came. Your hairs in a ponytail and you're wearing a red dress with low high heels and little to no makeup. Simple, but just to play it safe. You're waiting outside your house to meet Bradley.

He finally arrives and you get into his bronco. He's wearing a Hawaiian shirt with denim shorts. You don't know why, but you love seeing him like this. Casual, wearing some else than the pilot tracksuit.

"Hey, you look beautiful." He says. "Thank you. You're not bad at all."

"So, how is this going to go. " He stars the car to your aunties house. "Simple, you just have to pretend that you're my boyfriend. But we need to make it seem that we like each other. There's need to be a connection between us." You tried to not be nervous. Why everytime you're with him, he makes you feel this way?

"Can I kiss you?" Your eyes got bigger. Wait? What? "Yeah, you can" you're stupid. You never kissed anyone before.

The ride's not so long so you make it there fast. You knock the door to your auntie's house and wait for her come and open the door. Before she does, Bradley gives a reassuring look. You just nod and smile.

"I knew you'd come" your auntie says and give a warm hug. Then, her eyes reach to Bradley, who smiles and takes her hand. "You're dating Bradley!?" She looks surprised. How wouldn't she? You never had a boyfriend before, and you don't go out much.

She lets you inside and you take a seat to have dinner. She keeps asking questions to Bradley, about how he date you even though you're an antisocial freak and germs give you the ick.

"It just happened, you know. I knew I wanted to spent the rest of my life with her". You just smile. Does he always lies this good, or is he telling the truth?

"Do you remember the wooer I picked up for you? You almost forgot. Spending time with Bradley made you dizzy, feeling things that you can't explain.

"Uhh... Yes, I do. Is something wrong with him? Your nerves get the best of you and your leg starts shaking. Bradley notices and his hand touches your knee, putting the tiniest bit of pressure. His hand is warm and relax.

"Nothing. I need to call him to tell him that I don't need him anymore. Bradley looks so in love with you". Fuck. Fuck. What are you going to do now? At least you won't have to see his face any more. He did horrendous things to do just for you to like him.

"Yeah, I think Y/N doesn't need him anymore, right baby? You look at him. Gosh, he's so handsome. His tan, sunkissed skin and his beard that matches his hair color. You could stare at him all day.

"Well, I have someone in my life so". You replied. His hand is still on your knee, and you'd whish he never took it from there. It feels nice.

The rest of the night went well, until your auntie opened her mouth and asked you if you had any plans on getting married.

"We're still thinking about it, don't worry." Your auntie has always been interested in your romantic life. She wanted you marry someone who you're happy with, and have kids. Unfortunately, you were scared. How are you going to tell Bradley about your feelings? Does he feel the same way?. Tonight made you realize that you have feelings for him, but you're scared.

Bradley just looks at you, maybe waiting for all of this to be over and go home. Both of you didn't have to work tomorrow, but it was a long day anyway. You say goodbye to your auntie and walk to Bradley's bronco.

"Are we going to fake the weeding too? He asks. He looks pissed. "Look, if you don't want to do this anymore just tell me, okay?" You get on his car, waiting for an answer.

"I can't do this anymore" he says.

"Do what, Bradley?

" I love you"

#top gun maverick #top gun fandom #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster imagine

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pluckyredhead · 7 months ago

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It's time for more Fourth World thoughts! Previously I've covered the comics of the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Now let's talk about the 2000s.

Orion (2000): AHHHHHHH. If you read no other Fourth World book (besides Kirby ofc), please read this one. It is so good and it is so epic and Orion makes so many well intentioned bad decisions and suffers so much. I devoured all 25 issues in 2 days and immediately wanted to reread it. Writing and art are both Walt Simonson and he gives this book such tragic grandeur. He also does my favorite thing which is multiple slow-burning subplots, some of which lasted so long that I was afraid they wouldn't be resolved, but no, every loose end is wrapped up in a satisfying (ish) way by the last issue and I love everyone in this bar. And the art! THE ART!!!

So basically, Orion kills Darkseid (again lol) and becomes the new ruler of Apokolips, and decides he is going to drag this planet over to the side of good kicking and screaming, which...doesn't work out so well for him. Ultimately he winds up semi-accidentally in possession of the Anti-Life Equation, which allows him to completely control people, so he uses it to force people to be good, which...baby, no. This series is like 40% Orion whump, 35% Orion being a badass, 5% Lightray and Orion being blatantly in love, 5% Scott and Orion making dramatic gestures of brotherly devotion, and 5% Orion wearing a stupid hat that I unironically wish I could buy and wear.

It looks like his helmet! I NEED IT.

Also, during his Stupid Hat Era, Orion briefly acquires an orphan girl sidekick, and like...look at my icon. This is my GREATEST WEAKNESS. Simonson, why did you come for me like that???

I have only two quibbles with this series:

1. It's the early 2000s so the only female characters of any significance (besides the aforementioned orphan girl sidekick) are femme fatales who are drawn in ludicrously skimpy outfits and sex inch heels. Now to be fair, Darkseid wears a miniskirt, but the degree of cheesecake of these two characters was ridiculous.

2. The last issue reveals that Scott possesses the Anti-Life Equation naturally, and he once accidentally killed dozens of people with it, and he's tormented by both of these things. Which...the actual issue this story is told in is really good, and I think it's a really interesting idea to have Scott possess the Equation, but I don't love the idea of weighing down this optimistic character who values freedom above all with such a traumatic history of, uh, accidental mass murder. He already grew up in a torture orphanage! Hasn't he suffered enough?!

But honestly, the overall series is so good that I'll let it slide. PLEASE READ ORION (2000). THANK YOU.

Seven Soldiers: Mister Miracle (2005): This is part of a set of miniseries Grant Morrison did: there was Seven Soldiers #0, and then 7 4-issue minis, one for each of the Soldiers, and then the whole story concluded in Seven Soldiers #1. I only read Seven Soldiers and the Mister Miracle miniseries because I'm a ridiculous person when it comes to reading comics, but I'm not going to read 24 issues that have nothing to do with the Fourth World.

Anyway, the Mister Miracle mini is actually about Shilo Norman, not Scott, and it's pretty good, even if Shilo should know perfectly well who Darkseid and his entourage are. The surrounding issues were incomprehensible, but maybe they would have made more sense if I had read all the other minis. On the other hand, maybe not...this is Morrison we're talking about, after all. Anyway talk about making comics as inaccessible as possible. Great job, everyone.

Death of the New Gods (2007): I knew right away this comic was going to be dogshit because of a) the title and b) the fact that it's a tie-in to the worst event DC has ever published, Countdown to Final Crisis, but hoo boy, it is DOGSHIT.

Basically, some mysterious being starts murdering New Gods, starting with Lightray and Barda, the latter of whom is murdered in the kitchen - you know, where women belong. Scott then dons a truly idiotic goth version of his costume and the rest of the book is mainly Scott, Orion, and Superman flailing around aimlessly and failing to figure out who the killer is while everyone from New Genesis and Apokolips is slaughtered. It's a truly godawful murder mystery in which implausible suspects are accused at absolute random (the Forever People, the pacifist hippies! Orion, the least sneaky being in existence!) even though Superman deduces the killer (sort of) in #5 and tells the other characters, so there's no reason for them to still be trying to solve it.

Anyway at the risk of ruining this comic for you (impossible, it comes pre-ruined), the killer turns out to be the Infinity Man, but he's actually being piloted by the Source, which is eradicating the New Gods and harvesting their energy in order to create a Fifth World. In #7, a horrified Scott is like "But I've worshiped you all my life! Don't you care about any of us?" and the Source is like, "Eh." The most spiritual and reverent aspect of the Fourth World, and Jim Starlin came along and just dropped a little turd right on top of it (after, of course, blatantly copying Darkseid when he created Thanos).

The art (also by Starlin) is hideous, and the plotting is atrocious, as he desperately tries to stretch six issues of story at best into eight, plus dragging each issue out over 30 pages instead of the normal 22. Everyone is wildly out of character. The only vaguely good thing about the book is that Scott and Orion finally get to spend a significant amount of time together, but given the context, I really don't think it's worth it.

In conclusion: "rocks fall, everyone dies" turns out to not be a good idea for a story! Who knew!

Final Crisis (2008): Well, after 16 years of successfully avoiding this story, I finally read it. You win this one, Morrison.

I have avoided Final Crisis since it came out because it felt so emblematic to me of the worst of late 2000s DC: literally constant crossovers with histrionic stakes, characters being slaughtered left and right, whatever the fuck they did to Mary Marvel in this story. I know it has a good reputation, and if I'm being honest, I do think the first 5 1/2 issues of it are pretty good. On the other hand, if I wasn't very familiar with 2000s DC, I think this would be a very confusing book to read, the final 1 1/2 issues dissolve into incomprehensible, self-indulgent nonsense full of obscure characters and OCs randomly dropped in just to make it all harder for the reader. I'm sorry, I know many people consider Morrison's habit of writing comics that you need a companion volume, twenty Wikipedia tabs, and a Reddit forum to understand to be a feature, not a bug, but it infuriates me. It's like the structure of the Seven Soldiers series(es) up above. Aren't comics impenetrable enough? Must we gatekeep with every page?

Anyway the New Gods stuff: they're all dead, but all the evil ones managed to land on Earth as disembodied souls, and are possessing various humans. The only good one is Orion, who dies at the very beginning when he is shot by Darkseid in the future shooting him with a bullet that travels back in time. I love goofy comics shit but for some reason this one strikes me as real dumb. Also Orion literally died twice in the comic that was about all the New Gods dying, so...hm.

Anyway the evil New Gods take over the planet with the Anti-Life Equation, and again, the pacing and storytelling are actually really good for most of this. But there's also all the worst the late 2000s had to offer, like Mary Marvel in the WORST costume of all time and Supergirl flashing panty shots at the reader while they beat each other up and call each other sluts, or Tawky Tawny being beaten to a pulp before ripping out Kalibak's entrails. Tawky fucking Tawny. SIGH. Also they keep miscoloring Shilo as white. NOT GREAT.

Honestly at this point I'm like begging for the New 52 to happen and put me out of my misery, so...good job, DC? I want to go back to Orion (2000), that was great.

Next up: the 2010s! Which is all the New Gods books, they haven't had a series yet this decade. We're almost done, gang.

#fourth world #meta #orion #scott free #mister miracle #big barda #barda free #lightray

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the1northlanderprincess · 4 months ago

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Early, early finale hypotheticals

I may be four weeks early (NOT FAIR), but I have ideas and scenarios running through my head about the glimpse of Halbrand!Sauron and the highly anticipated fight scene.

Okay, the overall consensus (or wishful thinking) is that Galadriel will join Sauron at the end of the season, mostly because it would be too predictable if she chose to overcome her darkness so soon after season one.

So, first off, I think it's rather obvious that Halbrand's appearance will be in the final moments of the last episode. His expression as he looks down at Galadriel. It seems as if he's passing by, going on his way to Numenor. He stops to say something, but doesn't get off his horse. At least, that's not the vibe I'm getting currently. What I find so interesting is her proximity to him and the casualness. It's as if she's there to see him off on purpose, leaving me to believe that they did come to some sort of compromise after their fight. It's giving the end scene of Spider-Man 2 with Mary Jane gazing out the window when Peter leaves to fight crime, complete with an apprehensive expression.

Now, then, the fight. Some people are suggesting that it happens over the crown. I'm not sure, but what I do know is that Galadriel knows to find him there. The duel ensues, and Sauron goes on the defensive, because she, for certain, instigates. He doesn't want to fight or hurt her. He probably tells her as much when he says her name like that, and wants to try to explain things; make her see reason. She refuses, and they continue their battle. Along the way, she gets hurt, and maybe calls a timeout (ROFL). Galadriel asks what he wants, and he only longs to see the ring on her finger. She holds the hand up gracefully, and he is enthralled by it...and her. He takes it and presses his lips gently against her fingers. And maybe, just maybe, they come to an understanding. As far as him actually kissing her, I would like for that to happen if he feels as if he's getting through to her after being allowed to kiss the ring hand. But, if not, the sentiment would be the same.

Anyway, those are my optimistic, idealistic, and perhaps slightly incoherent thoughts. Let me know what you think!

Stay tuned next week for my opinion of what may happen if Sauron infiltrates Gal's mind while captured by Adar, as theorized by @buffyfan145

#haladriel #rings of power spoilers #haladriel spoilers

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raineydaywhispers · 2 years ago

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I want to write an essay about Raine's (short, but sweet) arc in The Owl House now that the show is officially over, but for now I just want to put my thoughts somewhere about their arc in the final episode, as to not lose them. Thoughts under the cut!:

I am glad that Raine had an active role in defeating Philip, and had their own symbolic break away from the covens when they broke their violin.

I also loved the return to the bard magic they invented- the whistle-during both the struggle to cast Belos out of their body, but in the last fight as well. It was a part of their return to self agency, a nod to a time before the coven system where they were allowed to be free and explore magic on their own terms.

It's interesting to me that Philip calls them "annoyingly powerful," and it makes me believe honestly that their ascension to being a coven head was, while based on skill, also based on the fact that he knew they were. Belos always wanted to take advantage of that power, and control it. We see this with Lilith, and Eda as well. I believe it stands as a further explanation for the brain washing and the only time we see a sigil used against somebody.

Raine is one of the most powerful witches on the Boiling Isles, even with the constraints of their coven sigil. They not only broke out of the collector's puppet spell as a show of that true power, but would break from being possessed by Philip as well multiple times- and they almost stopped him on their own.

But Raine failing to stop Philip on their own is also significant. Raine needed help to do that- and Eda being the person to put their glasses on them, pull them from Philip's corruption of the isles, and show them that they're safe was the final crossing of the threshold for Raine. It's another return to a time before they lost their agency, but in a way that shows both themself and Eda have changed.

If they're going to defeat Belos and share the new future free from constraints with somebody, why not Eda their childhood friend, and her adopted children Luz the human and King the Titan. Why not end it all by quite literally stomping out the coloniser monster that caused them so much pain and heartbreak?

I'm also okay with them not returning to being a bard in the epilogue. I wish we would've been able to explore why exactly, and I'd like to think that their arc that was scrapped due to cancellation would've. But I think their separation from that part of themself makes sense no matter the reason. It's part of an old, long lasting traumatic experience. Maybe they did return to it and we just sadly don't get to see it. Or, maybe they'll return to bard magic on their own terms. Maybe they won't. I guess I'm going to have to fill those gaps in on my own time through writing and fan content.

But in summary, I guess, I'm glad that they finally had a way to regain agency over themself. I'm glad they got an ending where their skills as a leader are respected and put to use. I'm glad the show continued this notion of trust with Raine working with the old Hexsquad and new Hexsquad members to rebuild. And I'm glad they get to share a community with Eda that they can both flourish in, with each other. Even if we didn't get a Raeda kiss.

I'm going to be mourning the loss of a character that as an nb transmasc person, is the first time I've really felt represented on screen. I'm so thankful to Avi Roque, Dana Terrace, and the entire crew of the show for bringing to life such a good, kind character. Eda's Requiem aired during a time where I was questioning what my gender meant to me, and was struggling to find the light in my life as a trans person. I will always be grateful.

Though I'm not optimistic that we'll get extra content in the future, I hope we do. I want to explore the Boiling Isles again, this time as it heals, and I want to do it with Raine, Eda, Luz, King, Lilith, and all the other characters that made this show so special to me.

But for now, I'm content I got to experience The Owl House. It was such a weird, proudly neurodivergent and queer show. Though I would've preferred a full third season I'm glad the ending was a sound, well written send off. Until we see more (if we ever do) I'm going to be watching and dreaming for the future, thanks to them.

#the owl house #toh #raine whispers #toh raine whispers #toh watching and dreaming #toh spoilers #raeda #toh series finale #watching and dreaming #sorry if this is rambly #i have a lot of feelings

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gachagon · 1 year ago

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Hiori's ego is really fragile glass

and it's really fucking cool, I adore the imagery they used for this reveal. In Blue Lock there's always this big moment where the characters come flying apart in strange fragments, either in puzzle pieces or weird black "monster goo" etc which is supposed to be representative of their ego. And we finally have Hiori's ego!

When I first saw it I thought that maybe it was just random shards not meant to really represent anything but this panel where he and Isagi are both thinking at the exact same time about the same play let me know that this is him showing his ego off proudly, and I think Hiori's ego is super cool in a unique way.

Often times, when we think about glass or mirrors, we think about how easy they are to break. How fragile they are, and when mirrors are broken you can't exactly see the reflection in them clearly anymore. That is exactly why Hiori gets paired with glass shards as his ego, because seeing everything all at once was the thing that was holding him back. From Hiori's perspective, whenever he would play, he wouldn't do it for himself but for the dreams of other people. His parents expectations weighed heavy on him, and were the sole reason for him joining Blue Lock.

When he's finally breaking free from the idea of playing for others, the moments on the glass shards are from his childhood, times where he had played soccer just for the benefit of his parents and nobody else. So in a sense, Hiori is breaking apart but in the best way possible because now he's playing for himself and making choices he wouldn't have thought about making before. He's not seeing the "big picture" that his parents had forced on him, which is why he relies more on his instincts instead.

I really feel like this is an interesting subversion of the predator eye skill that has been touted in other chapters, because those characters all had this big revelation the moment they could use it. They all spaced out, and were awed at just how much thinking and brain power they had to do in order to fully use it on the field. But Hiori isn't thinking, he's just playing by ear for the first time in his life, and that's how he's able to use this new skill to his advantage.

Breaking apart was the key Hiori needed in order to unlock his ego, because the thing that was holding him back was this constant anxiety and fear about doing things on his own. Being allowed to fail in life is such an important thing that people need to experience, and since he was never allowed to be anything less than perfect at soccer, he built this whole solid wall around himself when he played and would only rely on others to try and get ahead instead of truly playing selfishly.

He may have thought he was an egoist simply because he joined Blue Lock, but it's clear Hiori didn't think he'd ever have the possibility of being like the others, of truly being number 1 (because being the number 1 striker isn't even a dream of his, it's someone else's entirely).

And what's also really neat about Hiori's ego being represented by glass is how it contrasts Isagi's puzzle pieces. One is a chronic over thinker who's always seeing everything all the time in his head, and the other just turns his brain off to do the sickest shit on the field with pure reflexes. Now it makes so much more sense as well why Hiori's backstory chapter included him playing so many video games, specifically shooters. Because those are games you play where you mostly have to rely on your instincts and reflexes. You don't have to see everything in front of you, you don't even have time to do that in those types of games.

So it's cool to see how this little hobby of his was foreshadowing the way he'd use his skills in the upcoming match. The only thing left to wonder is if this will really be enough for them to win. If they don't score here Noa will be really upset by it since he let Isagi take a gamble with adding Hiori to the field. Part of me is optimistic, but I'm also convinced they'll lose because they've already won most of their games so far lol.

#bllk #blue lock #hiori yo #isagi yoichi #blue lock manga #bllk spoilers

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ironworked · 1 month ago

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I posted this as a reblog, but I'm going to post it here separately to add to it a bit:

I think we’re acting like the finality we’ve gleaned from interviews basically means that Tim ‘I’ve never seen a show bible’ Minear has created one just to write 'never have Tommy back’ on it.

But I think what’s most likely is that the finality is with regards to the conclusion of this arc, 'Baby Bi Buck’s First Queer Relationship’, consequently freeing up LFJ for other roles.

But, what might the future hold? ¯_(ツ)_/¯

we don’t know why the 4-episode arc was extended (milk the praise? they didn’t know what else to do with Buck?…) or why it ended now (budget? Tommy was a mouthpiece for the writers and it’s them who believe that Buck needs to 'explore his bisexuality’? bc they don’t really want Buck settled in a relationship?…)

we don’t know what their internal numbers will say about the GA’s reaction, if any significant backlash will recover with time or with Buck’s next LI/storyline, or if it is (or it's going to be) bad enough that they’ll scramble to pivot.

we don’t know how long this show will be on air, how much notice they’ll get before cancellation, or even if Minear will remain showrunner or leave for the spin-off.

we do know they don’t plan very far in advance (how’s that go, he’s 'laying down the train tracks’ as he goes?)

we know they change storylines, they pivot, they scrap scenes,…

we also know that the break-up was, whether by intent or accident, written in a way that easily allows for a reunion (asks for a conclusion, even, in my opinion). No one’s dead and it wasn’t acrimonious.

It could happen that they get cancelled this year and they try to get Tommy back to give Buck some closure; it could happen that the show goes on for 3 more seasons and they manage to strike gold twice and give Buck a good love interest; if LFJ gets asked back maybe he says yes, or maybe he has to decline... SO much can happen, and this is just the predictable run-of-the-mill stuff, not getting into actors leaving the show or stuff like that!

So, I’m going to remain hopeful, but not super-optimistic, and certainly not expectant.

#Tv: 911 #bucktommy #and interviews... well. We know by now they should be taken with an entire shaker of salt don't we?#what I know is I won't be watching in the meanwhile #for many things including lack of trust #because for example next time Buck has a near death experience they're gonna asks us to believe Tommy wouldn't be in the hospital #and I don't truck with that

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idontplaytrack · 5 months ago

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could you do more amber appleton x reader fics please? I don’t have a very specific request but maybe one where reader finds out ambers living situation and begs amber to let her help somehow with some angst? thank you! <3

Honey

Amber Appleton x fem! reader

Warnings: coarse language, angst, implied/mentioned sex

Amber hates asking for help, but reader’s had enough of it and begs Amber to step back

Amber was…a lot of things: bubbly, kind, helpful, supportive, optimistic. Well, and was also quick frankly the cutest person you’ve ever laid your eyes on. She was the first friend you’ve made at high school, and your crush on her only started to show up in junior year. So when you’ve been around her for the last nine or so months, you’ve been a tad nervous. That you’d make a fool out of yourself if you ever drew a blank while you were hanging out with her. Expertly, you shoved those feelings for her aside and chose to ignore them— hoping they’d go away. You could never be good enough for her, she was a straight-A student and as established, very pretty. You knew a bunch of students off the top of your head that had crushes on her and/or tried to ask her out. Though she hasn’t said yes to any of them, you never once thought you’d have a chance. Did you dream of it? Yes. But did you think it would ever happen? Absolutely not.

“Amber~” You walked up behind her, chin resting on her shoulder for just a second, “Good morning.”

She grunts, shrugging slightly. You took the hint and moved off of her. You were immediately concerned, she’s never been like this before. Just yesterday, she was on cloud nine because she got invited to audition for Carnegie Mellon. So this, was unexpected. Especially from her.

“Hey, what’s the matter, Ams?”

Her face perked up, she smiles at you, “Nothing. I’m fine!”

You bit back a sigh. “Are you sure? We still have time before class, we can talk—”

“Yep!” She confirmed in her usual chipper tone. “Come on, let’s get to home room.”

“Okay…” You squinted at her. She squinted back, “y/n, I’m okay.”

“Sure. Okay, let’s go.” A quiet sigh inevitably falls from your mouth as you agreed with her, walking side by side to the designated classroom. You decided to drop it— for now.

After lunch, you finally saw her again in wood shop and what caused alarm bells to go off in your head was how careless she was being, it was as though she was purposely trying to injure herself. "Amber." You seethed, "What are you doing? Be careful."

Not a single peep out of her. You were very quickly losing your patience, especially after what happened before homeroom. You had been worried about her all day. She huffs and went up to the teacher to ask for permission to use the restroom, knowing that you couldn't stop her and that the teacher only allowed one student to go at a time. When she returned to the workshop about ten minutes later, she didn't even look at you anymore. But she did seem super agitated which only caused you to be more concerned and even a bit anxious. What the hell was going on?

"Hey, could we talk? Please?"

"What's there to talk about? I'm gonna be late for my shift." Amber says dismissively.

A lie. She had more than a half hour to get there.

That look on her face was seriously starting to irk you, why was she acting as if you owed her the world?

"So?" She tilted her head up, "What? What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"What happened?" You asked, "Why are you acting like this? I'm just trying to help you and you're acting like— like you hate me now."

"I don't hate you." Amber's gaze softened as she gnawed on her lower lip, "I'm sorry, okay? It's just that something happened last night with my Mom and I've been pissed off about it." "What happened?" You repeated, "Let me help you, Amber."

And then that expression was back on her face, that annoyed, unhappy look. It was very subtle, but having spent nearly everyday with her, you knew.

"I don't need your help."

"So then you're just gonna be like this from now? So angry?" You snapped.

"I don't need your help y/n, leave me alone."

"Fuck, Amber. Why is it so hard for you to ask for help? Let people help you?" Your voice got shaky towards the end, you were looking right into her eyes. That harsh glare had its moments of softening, she was about to cry.

"I don't know what to do." She mumbles, "I don't know how anyone will be able to help me. I didn't want you to know that I—"

You tug on her arm and told her to sit down on the bench, you did the same. "Amber, it's okay. You can tell me anything. Whatever it is, we'll be okay. We'll figure it out...get through it."

And that triggered the waterworks. Amber just broke down in tears and gave you the shock of your life. You instantly engulfed her in a hug, rubbing her back to calm her down. "Last night— they found out me and my Mom have been sleeping on— on one of the school's buses."

Oh. Fuck, it was much worse than what you could've guessed. Your heart shattered, you couldn't believe you didn't find out sooner and helped her, and her Mom.

"She got fired and she was just so upset and I didn't know what to do because she wanted me to go stay at Oliver's with her but he hits her and has her drinking again. I didn't want that, so I told her no, told her not to go...but she still went so I just— I slept on a bench and now— I guess, now you know."

"Stay with me." You told her, biting back the rapidly forming tears. "Please, Amber, let me help you. You're my best friend, I don't want you to feel unsafe at Oliver's, I don't want you sleeping on benches, I don't want you to be scared to come to me for help. Do you have any idea how much you've helped me since we met on our first day?"

Amber sniffled, "You're my best friend, of course I'd help you."

"And you're mine, of course I'd help you." You breathed out heavily, a painful lump in your throat.

"I got to get to the donut shop." Amber got up, taking a deep breath to recompose herself, "I'll see you later? Promise."

"What time do you get off?"

"Eight-thirty."

"I'll be there." You promised. A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips, "Okay."

————

While you headed home, Amber headed in the opposite direction towards the donut shop. The whole time, her revelation kept replaying in your mind on a loop. You simply could not shake it off. In the shower, it had you screaming out of frustration from the fact that it kept haunting you. "Fuck!" You groaned, fist slamming into the wall on your side, "Stop it! Stop it, just help her. Stop thinking about it, Amber's alright right now."

After your shower, you dried off, got dressed and started to deep clean the house. Again, out of frustration. And to distract yourself. It worked, though you were sweaty again after you finished the chores two hours later. Plopping onto the couch, you stared at the clock: 6:35pm. You had plenty of time before you had to go pick Amber up from work. Your Mom was on the way home from work, your Dad was on a business trip. But that was the least of your worries because they knew Amber and absolutely adored her. Amber doesn't come by to hang out that much, because she worked after school most days, but they knew her and knew her well enough to trust her completely.

After some thinking, you got started on dinner. Your mom gets home right around that time. "Mom, hey."

“Hi, sweetie." You mom smiled at you, approaching the kitchen, "What are you making?"

"Nothing fancy, just a lasagna since we had the ingredients." You smiled back, "Um, Mom? Amber's gonna have to stay with us for awhile."

"Oh. Amber? No problem, she can stay as long as she wants to." She agreed quickly.

"Thanks." You were a little shocked by the fact that she didn't even need to know more first, but really relieved she didn't and trusted you and Amber like that.

Your Mom excuses herself to go take a shower, you acknowledge that with a nod and off she went while you finished up putting the lasagna together then into the oven. And when your Mom came back downstairs, the lasagna was done, fresh out the oven. "Honey, that smells amazing." "Thanks, mom." You beamed brightly, "Oh, I have to go pick Amber up in a few, but if you want you can eat first."

"It's okay, honey. I'll wait, I'm not that hungry yet since Jodie at the office brought cake to celebrate her birthday."

"Oh, alright. I'll get going now, but I'll see you back here in a bit."

"Drive safe, sweetie." Your Mom gives you a hug before you leave.

It was a short drive to the donut shop. You pulled up right outside, watching Amber wipe down the counter and then she saw you. Her face lit up with a smile before she waves at you. Lloyd sees you as well and waved hello. Amber puts the rag aside, picked up a pink box and walked outside to meet you. "Good night, Lloyd!"

"See ya, Amber!"

"Hello." Amber was back to her usual self now, and thank god because you couldn't cry anymore, no way.

"Hey, how was work?"

"It was fun, never boring because Lloyd's always cracking jokes." Amber shrugs, "And we get free donuts."

"Those are always great." You nodded gleefully.

Parking your car in the garage, you stepped inside the house with her swiftly. "Hi!" Amber greeted you Mom instantly.

Your Mom playfully stares at her, "Remember not to call me 'Mrs. y/ln'?"

"Yes, I remember, Eda. How are you?"

"I had a good day at work, got to leave on time." Your Mom answers, "It's been awhile, and I get to see you?"

Amber chuckles, amused. "I come bearing donuts."

"Do you have rainbow sprinkle?" You and your Mom asked in unison. Amber laughs, so did you and your Mom.

"Certainly do. You each get one."

Dinner was lovely, you got to be with Amber and your Mom. Having good food and chatting the night away. But eventually, dinner concluded and you were by the sink— with Amber, washing up the dishes. Your Mom was gonna do it, but you offered, seeing that she was likely tired from work. "Let me help you."

"You are helping." You squint at her jokingly, "By standing here and chatting with me. Keeps me awake."

After the dishes were dried, you head up to your room with Amber at your heel, holding onto your hand as you walked up the stairs. She initiated the hand-holding, not you. But honestly, as startled as you were, you did not want to let go. Why? You were happy she was showing you affection.

Amber would be sleeping in your bed with you. It was big enough for two but besides that, it wouldn’t be the first time she slept here. She had no objections to sharing a bed with you, with you being her best friend.

“Just take whatever clothes you like.” You told her as she stood by your dresser rifling through the drawer, “Towels are in the bathroom. So are extra toothbrushes and pads— if you need them.”

“Okay.” She answered softly, “Thanks, y/n. Really. You don’t know what you’re doing for me, I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“As long as you’re safe, that’s a big enough thank you.” You replied earnestly.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” You nodded, “Take your time. I’ll just…be here getting comfy in bed.”

She grabs a carefully selected stack of clothing and began walking towards your bathroom. “Amber wait.”

“What is it?” She asked, turning around to face you completely.

“Where’s Bobby?” You asked nervously.

“I left him at Ricky’s this morning.” Amber tells you.

“Oh.” You heaved a sigh of relief.

Amber leaves you alone for the next twenty minutes to shower, then she was back out with you again. You picked up on a difference in her mood, it was intense and made your heart race. She was looking at you a certain…way that made butterflies rage in your chest.

“Can I…give you something?” She asks, sitting down next to you.

“What?” You asked with caution.

“A kiss.”

“A kiss? Sure, Amber. You, want to kiss me?” You scoffed. But in the next second you feel her hand on your cheek, her face inches away from yours. “Yes.”

“Amber, you’re vulnerable right now, I don’t think I should—”

“That’s not why I want to kiss you.” Amber says, face somehow closer.

Fuck, you were so tempted. You wanted this. You’ve dreamed of this.

“Okay.” You decided, she kisses you. Not just fleetingly but a hungry, long kiss that caused you to ache. When she pulled away, you were damn near whining into her mouth. One thing led to another that night, it was everything you could’ve ever imagined and more. Amber was passionate, but so, so gentle with you, it was the best sex you’ve ever had and the first time anyone’s made you come.

As happy as you were, you were quickly bothered with the question of ‘what are we?’ right as you sobered up. Was this a confession of sorts that led to more? Or was it just…a one night stand? You looked at her looking at you, wondering if it was the right thing to do albeit enthusiastic consent from both parties, given the circumstance.

Before you could even process that you had tears in your eyes, she was asking you if you were okay. “I’m worried.” You revealed without much thought.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You continued, “I’m scared that I shouldn’t have done that because you’re—”

“I wanted that, okay? Don’t be scared, I would’ve stopped you if I didn’t want that.” She caresses your cheek.

“But I’m more worried about how things would be like between us now, Ams.” Your voice quivered with each word, “I— I wanted to tell you that I had feelings for you but I could never do it, I just— I didn’t want things between us to change, not in a good way.”

Amber smiles, thumb still smoothing over your cheek, “I like you too, y/n. So much, I wouldn’t have done something like that with you if I didn’t. We’re okay, we’re more than okay. We’re spectacular.”

You laughed a little then ended up bursting into tears while your head was nuzzled against her chest. Amber rubs your back, planting a kiss to the crown of your head, “You are mine.”

A smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours.”

Amber chuckles, combing her hand through your hair in a calming motion. “Yes, you are. About time.”

“Good night.” You whispered, then took some deep breaths to even out your breathing.

“Sweet dreams, honey.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

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