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#honestly thought it might still end up being sleep token
dailydegurechaff · 8 months
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Honestly, Zettour, Rudersdorf, Ugar, and Lergan all trying to co-parent Tanya is good culture.
Zettour is the indulgent one that's far too much like her for the other comfort.
Rudersdorf is the dotting one enabling Tanya and Zettour.
Ugar is the one that spoils her rotten with gifts and tries to invite her to his family's dinners.
And Lergan is the token responsible one whose attempts at discipline are sabotaged at every turn.
In my eyes, every character in the Imperial Army is just one massive found family dynamic. No you cannot change my mind.
I thought just a bit too hard about all of their differences in trying to take care of Tanya, and suddenly instead of drawing, something else came out. Oops. This isn't edited very strongly, very sorry.
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Through the walls, I can hear the sound of voices arguing. It’s getting late, and I really would prefer to be sleeping right now, but here I am listening to the unpleasant sound of annoying old men. This sucks.
“I’m just saying, with the way you act sometimes, I find it hard to believe you have her best interests in mind!”
“Oh would you relax, Lergen? You really need to take that stick out of your ass, I’m only letting her have a little fun.”
It seems that tonight’s two combatants are Colonel Lergen and General Zettour. I sincerely hope it stays between just them, but I get the feeling my hopes are going to be for naught.
“A little fun? You’ve been letting her have unimpeded access to your wine cellar! It’s completely irresponsible—”
“Tanya knows how to moderate herself.”
“Does she now? She’s still just a kid, you know!”
“Well, even if she doesn’t, she’ll only make the mistake once after giving herself a horrible hangover.”
“Have you considered you may end up making her an alcoholic?”
Ugh. I’m not sure why they’re arguing in just the next room over like this. It’s not their intention I don’t understand, I’m pretty sure I get that part. I think they might expect Tanya to feel bad if she overhears them fighting over her, so they’re trying to shelter her from it. It’s a nice thought, even if doesn’t technically matter because I don’t actually care. No, the confusion I have is stemming from their choice of location. Do they know how thin these walls are? I don’t think they do because I can hear just about every word perfectly fine.
“Oh, don’t think you’re completely off the hook, Rudersdorf! While we’re on the subject of things we shouldn’t be allowing Tanya to do, you need to stop bringing her to live fire exercises and weapons tests.” Oh, it sounds like Lergen’s moved onto the next target to harangue.
Rudersdorf is quick to clap back and argue his defense, “What? Why? Do you really someone like her could possibly get hurt watching a few little tests?”
“Yes, actually! Because the second Tanya walks onto the grounds, everyone is clamoring for the famed ‘White Silver’ to participate!”
“That only happened once!”
“Once that you told me! I have it on good authority you keep doing it!”
“Tanya herself said she loves flying!”
“Yes, well, she doesn’t like nearly getting blown up by experimental weaponry!”
“Who told you about that?”
I’m wondering about that myself. Lergen honestly has the tendency to be a bit of a mother hen, so I’d avoided telling him about it. Really, it was also for his benefit as well as mine, the poor guy gets terribly sick when he’s anxious. I thought I was being merciful when I decided to tell only Zettour that I’d recently flown for Elenium Arms again.
Ah, wait a second. Zettour. He’s been suspiciously silent now, hasn’t he? He hasn’t said anything in a while, so he’s probably just listening to Lergen and Rudersdorf argue. Considering he was just getting reamed out for the whole ‘letting Tanya have wine’ thing, he’s probably enjoying the fact that Lergen’s anger isn’t directed at him anymore. I wonder if it was him…
“Oh, Zettour, you bastard!”
Ah, it seems that Rudersdorf caught on to the same realization I did. Now the two generals are going to argue. What a joy. Lergen at least has the decency to keep his volume at normal conversational levels, even if his tone gets rather accusatory. The generals do not have that decency, so this is going to devolve into a shouting match. I really do not want to, but I’m going to have to go out there and tell them to shut up, aren’t I?
Uger, the only person speaking at a low volume and therefore the only person who I can’t hear well, says something unintelligible. Following that, I just barely hear Lergen’s sigh and the resigned words, “Alright, go ahead…”
In the next few seconds, I hear footsteps and then my door opens. Colonel Uger appears in the doorway.
“Tanya… are you still awake?”
“Yes, sir. Did you need something?”
There’s a loud noise, like someone just slammed a table with their fist, and Uger hurries to step inside the room and shut the door behind him. It does very little to mute the din of the argument.
There is a beat of silence as we both listen. Uger looks like he’s cringing.
“It’s uh… Have you been able to hear this whole time…?”
“Yes, I have.”
“L-Listen, Tanya… you should know that this isn’t your fault. They love you, and want the best for you. It’s only because they care so much that they disagree—”
Knowing where this conversation is headed, I cut off the incoming lecture he’s about to give me, “It’s fine. I know they’re only arguing out of love for me.” A bold-faced lie came out of Tanya’s mouth just now. It’s not something I believe at all, but I also know saying that will end this conversation as quickly as possible.
“Right… so long as you understand—”
“Oh, shut the hell up! What would you know about parenting?!” Uger’s kind words are unfortunately interrupted by one of the Generals yelling.
There is another awkward pause.
After a second, it seems like Uger has come up with a resolution, “Uh… You know, Tanya, my daughter has been wanting to see you again. Did you want to have a sleepover with her tonight?”
Yeah, I’ll take hanging out with a toddler over listening to this go on for who knows how long. You know it speaks to the maturity level of those old men that a little girl is more well-behaved than them.
Mind made up, I give him my assent, “Yes, sir, I think that’d be pleasant.”
“Alright, I’ll give you a second to get your things together while I go talk to them about the new plans.” With that Uger leaves the room, a stormy expression on his face.
Ahh, now they’ve done it. You know it’s bad when even kindhearted Colonel Uger gets irritated. It’s because he’s so compassionate that it’s always the worst getting reprimanded by him. If you can manage to piss him off, it generally means you deserve what’s coming.
I hope he doesn’t take too long guilt-tripping them, I really would like to go to bed soon.
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a-s-levynn · 8 months
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Okay so let's make this post the official start of my 'sleep token stuff' tag for lore ideas and thought exercises and analyses and everything alike.
Originally this went under a wonderful lore discussion post but my addition went off rails and honestly i just wanted this on it's own for me to find it easier later so feel free to ignore it altogether. It's no secret that my probably all time favourite ST song is Higher and no small part of it is the refrain.
This is mostly an in-lore thingie i guess but all of this has a purely human, self reflective read as well but i don't have the mental energy at the moment to expand on that side as well but maybe one day. But the jist of it would be that if you replace Sleep with thoughts or feelings or the "other you" you always promise shit to it makes sense in a whole different very much human level as well. At least it makes sense for me. Maybe i'm just being stupid again.
Anyway here is my short thought exercise on the refrain of Higher. These lines specifically:
With all that you believe You still refuse to shelter me
'Cause I am a danger and you're 
A long way from home you are one among many 
But you're now on your own 
And I hate the way you look at 
Me when I am not understood 
'Cause you can remember only 
When you're alone I am granting you more than 
The debt that I owe
I think this is such a two ways text because it can be read from the viewpoint of Vessel but also Sleep's. Or both at the same time. At least for me. Maybe it's just me having a brainfry again but here is my thought process on it:
"With all that you believe You still refuse to shelter me" - They both belive the other is what they need. But on Vessel's part he might feel like Sleep does not gives him what he thinks he want's or needs. On Sleep's part, Vessel might not accepted Sleep in a way Sleep wanted or doesn't go exactly the way about things as Sleep expected at first. So in neither case a "shelter" is created. Not in a way originally imagined. It may and probably did happen anyway just not how it was originally expected by either of them. Because they want kind of the same but in wastly different ways. Sleep needs the safety of having followers, to be knkwn, to be strong again, to be worshipped. Vessel want's something that a human consideres a safe place. So they want the same but not the same. And the human and divine understanding cannot be aligned perfectly. But they try. Doesn't always work, especially on Vessel's end but they still believe the other can do what they agreed on but doubt is there in the corner because it doesn't happen the originally expected way. But they do believe in the other.
"I am a danger" - on Sleep's part it's fairly obvious with the whole ancient being stick. On Vessel's part tho.. he is a danger because the human element always has some unpredictibility to it. It could bring some unforseen sideffects to Sleep's plans and who knows how much a once all powerful beeing handles not being in perfect control. Maybe the unknown is scary to Sleep in a way as well in this weakened state. And that gives an edge to Vessel, however small that may be.
"you're a long way from home you are one among many but you're now on your own" - on Vessel's part this could refer to him leaving behind his life, his home to follow Sleep's call. This includes friends, family, essentially transferring from being 'one among many' to 'being on your own' in an unknown situation. Or just simply being a lonely human being who is completely alone no matter how many people are around him because since Sleep came into his life, no one really understands him. I kinda like this second version because of a later line in this verse. On Sleep's part it very well may have been the case that there was or still is a larger pantheon somewhere beyond. And for reasons it shatterred, faded or just some clashing happend or whatever other reason, but Sleep ended up here alone, so much more close to the human world which is very much an unknown to a being that never really experienced humanity in this way but mayhaps only through worship before, from far far away.
"I hate the way you look at me when I am not understood" - on Sleep's part is just that as a deity, does not communicate in conventional ways and Vessel might not understand correctly what is expected of him at all times. On Vessel's part it can be twofold again. First when he asks, requests or says something of/from Sleep and it's misunderstood or not understood at all because divine-human comprehension can and probably has dissonances. Also it could refer to Sleeps disapproval or bafflement over Vessel being misunderstood by other people, let it be friends/family or the world in general. (This could very well tie into being alone among many. Being misunderstood.)
" 'Cause you can remember only when you're alone I am granting you more than the debt that I owe" - Sleep and Vessel are the only ones who can understand their situation as a whole. They are the only one's for each other, everyone else (even the other vessels -tho probably for a higher degree of understanding than others- can only try to comprehend what this connection entails. And it only goes beyond the strictness of the original pact formed, when the two are alone. They probably have a different bond because there is a deeper understandig, given Vessel is the main conduit. And if Sleep's power is channelled through him, he probably had glimpses into Sleep's thoughts and desires and more and vica versa and at some point decided they may give each other even more for some reason only fully know to them. We usually only focus on Vessel owing a debt to Sleep because Sleep raised him form the dark, the obscurity but there is also a debt on Sleep's side. Because without a vessel he can't achieve what he want's(followers) especially not to this magnitude and speed. And Vessel choosing to do Sleep's bidding and may even going beyond the initial agreement creates kind of a debt on Sleep's part as well. But these additional gifts and givings are only happening when there is only the two of them. It's theirs and no one else's.
Again if we assume Sleep is a metaphor or a kind of personification of certain human elements, than all this gets so phylosophical and taps into the human psyche in a way that is kind of delicious and definitely interesting. But not today or not by me.
And i'm still not sure where i wanted to go with this, it's more of an exploration of ideas sparked by lyrics in regards of lore and how lyrics can be read different ways maybe, than anything serious really.
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makeste · 3 years
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BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns
Previously on BnHA: 
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Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.
ouch. we knew this was coming, but still
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A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”
though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring
SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS
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this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??
that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this
though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it
and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there
once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback
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this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself
“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN
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(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)
“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”
lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away
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seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”
anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well
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definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep
“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??
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apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time
anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”
LMAO
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the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then
looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four
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“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage
and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple
so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight
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I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis
guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again
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even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well
yep. fuck
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that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it
“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man
okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids
but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves
so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about
anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam
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sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...
“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”
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guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/
oh for fuck’s --
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“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess
I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here
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oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here
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ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding
-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI
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go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch
POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD
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AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK
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(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)
you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now
holy shit, actual Rei thoughts
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“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol
oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part
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get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE
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yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich
(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)
and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”
ohhhhhhhh fuck me
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LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)
I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh
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I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization
and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes
oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji
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SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT
oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition
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goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes
;_;
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well well well would you look at that
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imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up
OH MY GOD
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holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk
OH MY FUCKING LORD
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(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)
“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR
and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then
AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality
so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped
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blockgamepirate · 3 years
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Technoblade’s purpose in the political narrative of the Dream SMP
I can’t sleep so I decided to finally write the post I’ve been struggling with for literal months, except way more casual because I can’t be bothered anymore and also I’m sleep deprived.
So the thing is: to me the DSMP storyline has always been primarily political, probably because I was introduced to it through Wilbur who was definitely going for political, and also because I’m just generally interested in political narratives right now. Obviously I appreciate the character work and the personal relationship stuff, that’s what makes it more interesting than just dry allegory, but when it comes down to it, this story is about politics to me. So that’s the angle I’m going to approach it from.
Also not to spoil the conclusions here, but I’m an anarchist, that’s my lens.
(Obviously all of this is about rp from here on out unless otherwise specified)
Basically the situation as Techno joins the server is this: L'Manburg exists as an autonomous nation and is de facto independent although not officially recognised by the Dream SMP. The self-appointed president Wilbur Soot decides to hold an election and rig it in order to consolidate his power over the nation he founded and he gets his VP Tommyinnit to join in on the plan. Their scheme fails and they end up voted out instead. The new president, Schlatt, immediately establishes himself as an authoritarian figure and exiles Wilbur and Tommy.
A couple of points on what the election arc demonstrates:
1: the appearance of democracy can be used for distinctly undemocratic purposes.
2: even if the elections aren’t rigged, the electoral system could be massively flawed and end up favouring a party that in fact didn’t have the popular vote
3: even if the winning government (the coalition in this case) has the majority vote, that doesn’t guarantee that they’ll actually act according to the popular will.
4: the supporters of the losing parties basically just have to let the majority overrule their wishes, espcially since apparently L’Manburg doesn’t have an established role for an opposition, yikes. That’s actually a MAJOR oversight in the system but I’m not gonna go into that too much.
5: frankly as an anarchist I am just deeply cynical towards representative democracy, and just because you have a token appearance of choice and consent doesn’t mean that it isn’t a hierarchical and authoritarian system. And to be fair, from my point of view this applies even to so-called liberal democracies and progressive parties. Full disclosure: even if L'Manburg was the ideal example of a representative democracy (which it very much isn’t) I would still be opposed to it because I fundamentally do not believe in top down systems, even electoral ones.
6: despite all these flaws, all the characters seem to implicitly accept the electoral system as legitimate. There’s criticism against the actions of individual characters acting within the system, such as Quackity calling out Wilbur for trying to rig the election, but nobody is questioning the system itself.
So at this point I’m sitting there, watching all this go down, and thinking “man, this would be so much more bearable if there was an anarchist point of view being represented in the story.”
And hey, look who IMMEDIATELY SHOWS UP.
Okay, I’m not gonna lie, early installation Technoblade is not the best representation of anarchism. I was mostly rooting for him out of sheer contrarianism initially. I didn’t really even care if it would be another Killmonger/Magneto/Zaheer situation because I’m used to reading against the authorial intent when it comes to these things. Sometimes any representation is better than no representation, even with political ideologies. That’s not to say that him just straight up spouting this hobbesian notion of a “dog-eat-dog world” didn’t grate on me, obviously it did.
That kind of worldview of humanity needing authority in order to prevent chaos and conflict is literally antithetical to anarchism and is the favourite talking point of authoritarians, the least anarchist people there are. It’s literally what people use to argue AGAINST anarchism. I think it’s mostly because cc!Techno obviously wasn’t particularly educated on anarchist thought and was just basically having fun roleplaying with his friends at this point. Which is frustrating but fair enough I guess.
Cynical ideas about human nature are pretty deeply rooted in the mainstream, unfortunately, most people just consider it common sense. And like I said, it’s a huge talking point in the propaganda against anarchism.
(… even though in fact these arguments were originally used against proponents of representative democracy. Hobbes himself was very much a monarchist, the idea of letting normal people vote for their representatives would have been terrifying to him. Like surely the world would descent into a free-for-all war, all against all. Imagine letting commoners have OPINIONS, the horror.)
So yeah, that stuff was pretty ehhhhh. It was basically what I’d expected though: cc!Techno isn’t an anarchist and we just don’t get accurate representation from non-anarchists, ever. What I dared to hope was that Techno’s character would at least stay consistent about his opposition to ALL governments. I was pretty sure that he would, even though it seemed like the majority of the fandom at the time was convinced that he would switch over to Schlatt’s side or something. It would have been a really shitty twist, I would have ragequit immediately. I mean what would have been the entire point of his character then? He might as well have been a random mercenary. Why even have his character be an anarchist if you were just going to make him work for a government?
(ftr this is kinda my biggest problem with the Hypixel Skyblock revolution event lol, honestly I think that was a worse depiction of anarchism than early DSMP Technoblade. I mean the speech was good, but… still became a government official, tho. booooooooo, cringe)
And yes, I was rooting against L'Manburg, obviously, and I would have even if it had meant having to deal with another badly written anarchist villain character. I never understood why people saw L'Manburg as the good guys, they were nationalist and exclusionary and their whole existence was based on trying to scam people for money.
I mean they were definitely funny, they were great entertainers. I have no problems with people rooting for them because they’re fun to watch; I did that for a bit too. But people were starting to get really into the story and talk about Wilbur and Tommy, the corrupt politicians, and the country that literally excluded people based on nationality as the heroes, unironically, which was wild to me. And when Wilbur started his “villain arc” well: people called it a villain arc, as if he hadn’t been pretty much a bad guy from the beginning, constantly just out for money and power and taking advantage of the people around him and then pretending to be the victim when challenged. I mean yes he got worse, but I wouldn’t call it a villain arc, more like just a mental breakdown arc.
More importantly, to me L'Manburg represented so many things I hate about the status quo in real life, and seeing the fandom mostly unquestioningly accept it as good just pissed me off. Still pisses me off tbh. I mean, to be diplomatic I could say that I understand the emotional attachment and the way L'Manburg was built up mirrors a lot of how real nations are built and how they create a sense of patriotism out of symbols and a sense of honour and loyalty, and it’s actually really fascinating how it even works in a Minecraft roleplay. Says something about the human mind I guess. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though.
Anyway, I just wanted to see literally any kind of opposition to power, even if it had to come from a character that was unquestionably a villain, which I fully assumed Techno would be. Because political narratives so often just leave us out, or at best barely mention us. And even from a narrative point of view, adding an anarchist perspective to a political story just objectively broadens its scope and actually challenges people who are used to only arguing along the lines of conservative or liberal, welfare state or privatization, nationalism or multiculturalism, etc. Even if the original work dealt with it poorly, at least it would give me the excuse to rant about it on Tumblr, which is kinda why I revived my old Minecraft sideblog for this. (That and pig!Techno fanart.)
Also how can you have a story so fundamentally about power without its counterpoint: the rejection of power?
(Yes, Dream SMP as a whole is definitely a narrative about power, it’s a huge theme for Wilbur, Quackity, Dream, Eret and the Badlanders at least, as well as obviously the anarchist characters from the opposite direction.)
So yeah, the build up to November 16th for me was mainly about the anticipation for what Techno would do, how would Techno’s character respond to the seemingly inevitable formation of a new government. THAT was the point of interest for me, that was what I was the most invested in. Would we get an actual anarchist opposition as a new side to the conflict or would they just awkwardly drop that whole angle? Or even have him team up with Schlatt like a complete sellout? There was so much potential but I worried they might just waste it.
And I was right to worry since apparently in the original script Techno wasn’t supposed to do anything, he was just there to help fight Schlatt and witness the explosion along with everyone else.
And WOW that would have been so incredibly boring
Not even just from the political perspective, just talking about the narrative in general terms here: imagine November 16th without Techno’s plot points. Not only would it have been boring for Techno’s character but it would have been equally boring for basically everybody but Wilbur and Philza. An anticlimactic fight followed by a big explosion that pretty much everybody had seen coming already. Yes, the button room scene is dramatic and heartbreaking… for Wilbur and Phil. But nobody else was there to see it. For everybody else, it was just a big explosion. It would have been such a huge disservice to anyone watching the other POVs.
Techno’s intervention gave everyone an ACTUAL climactic fight, it allowed characters other than Wil and Phil to witness some actual drama happening and to participate in it, rather than just waiting around for the explosion, while also foreshadowing the explosion. Even better, it provoked SO MUCH discussion in the fandom AND gave a perfect hook for future conflicts to arise. Wilbur’s end was tragic but it was, at the time, final. L'Manburg would have still suffered a catastrophe but it would have been left with just the same exact antagonist as before: Dream.
And at this point Dream’s core goals had barely changed, just his approach was now different. Yes, that makes a difference for the plot, but it doesn’t really change much in terms of ideological conflict. Especially since there really isn’t that big of an ideological difference between Dream and Tommy, because arguably neither of them are particularly big on ideology in the first place, they just have conflicting goals and use different tactics to achieve those goals (well, the tactics aren’t always even that different *cough Spirit cough*).
Techno’s conflict with Tubbo and especially Quackity (and honestly most of the other characters in general) brings in so much more depth to the story, just by introducing another angle, not to even mention how much it brings to focus questions about power and violence. These are themes that exist in other characters’s storylines too but nowhere in the same way or as central as with Techno.
I’m getting kind of ahead of myself here, though.
The real twist of November 16th was the fact that Techno WASN’T a straight up villain, actually. It was a twist to me anyway, because with all my cynicism I just didn’t see it coming, I didn’t expect him to actually start making reasonable criticisms. I didn’t expect him to drop the hobbesian arguments entirely and start making points that actually sounded like anarchism.
I have to assume that cc!Techno must have seen some of the criticisms of his character and been inspired to adjust because the difference is pretty notable.
(Sidenote: I’m just forever kinda sad that Techno’s “I may seem like the villain here” monologue was cut from the video and most people never heard it.)
And I felt SO validated by the way, because it works so well in the story! Everyone is mostly content with the restoration of a status quo of some sort, Schlatt is gone, this is supposed to be the good ending, and then Techno calls them all out and turns the narrative around completely: This was just a coup d'état. This was just the previous political leadership retaking power by force. Why is everyone celebrating the same exact system that lead to Schlatt’s authoritarian rule in the first place?
What he does there is force the audience to question the narrative they’ve been presented so far, that they’ve accepted without a thought. It might not convince them, but they can’t just ignore it either.
Whatever you wanna say about the discourse around Techno on that day, in the ideological narrative THIS IS THE IMPORTANT PART. Not who betrayed who or when is political violence justified, that’s about personal relationships and morality and it’s mostly all more relevant to the aftermath than the event itself. In my opinion, the REAL point in the moment is that the characters and the audience were comfortable with the ending only to be presented with a completely new perspective on the events.
It also recontextualises the finale, including Wilbur’s actions! It’s a much more ambiguous end to the Pogtopia vs Manburg arc and to Wilbur’s original run as the head writer. Wilbur’s “even with Tubbo in charge I don’t think [that ‘special place’] can exist again” is vague enough to be dismissed as just part of his paranoia and internal conflict, but with Techno, there’s a concrete question: what if Tubbo, given the same powers as Schlatt, will turn out to be just a new Schlatt? And suddenly you have to wonder what Wilbur meant by his words too. And was all this foreshadowing something about L’Manburg’s future?
Okay I’ve only made it to November 16th and there’s so much more DSMP to talk about but the post is getting too long and I’m starting to lose my energy. Will I ever make a part two? No idea. But I’ll try.
Standard disclaimer: I’m not the spokesperson of anarchism, other anarchists might disagree with my reading
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Tedious Joys - Chapter 4 -
- Ao3 link -
It had been an inauspicious year to begin with.
A poor harvest led to famine among the common people, which in turn created conditions ripe for evil creatures of all sorts; the night-hunts that were often treated as playful competition by the cultivation world became more like the boring drudgery of everyday work, disciples setting off in packs on a regular basis all over, time and time again. The tension wore on the sects, some more than others, and dozens of small disputes began to rise up, needing to be dealt with. Lan Qiren’s schedule became busy, and then busier, and then became overwhelming; he was forced to discard one pastime after another in his efforts to hold back the rising tide, and in the end sacrificed sleep and sometimes meals to preserve only two: playing for Jiwei and spending time with his nephews.
It meant that he was unprepared, both mentally and physically, for word of the death of Cangse Sanren and her husband, which took over two years to finally come to ears of the Great Sects – such a shocking failure of information that Lan Qiren briefly wondered if it had been concealed intentionally.
The sudden shock of grief hit him hard.
He tried to convince himself that he had expected it, that she had expected it, that at least her son was now safe in the Lotus Pier, and yet all he could think about was that he had one less friend in the world. The sadness interfered with his focus, creeping in at all hours, uncontrollable, until one evening he was playing guqin with his nephews and looked up to find them both weeping uncontrollably from the music he was playing. When he tried to stop mid-song, he abruptly collapsed, and upon waking was informed that he had become feverish at some point in the night.
His sect doctors advised him to go into seclusion until he could control himself.
Lan Qiren refused.
They advised him again, this time with greater insistence, and with the support of his sect elders.
“Tell them to fuck off,” Lao Nie suggested, pouring a calming tea that he’d brought from Qinghe.
He’d come to visit with his sons, Nie Mingjue disappearing with Lan Xichen as always and Nie Huaisang engaged in the newest stage in his eternal battle of wills with Lan Wangji over a game of weiqi that they were both taking far, far too seriously.
(Despite knowing Lan Wangji and indeed Nie Huaisang better than most people alive, Lan Qiren honestly could not determine whether the two of them despised each other or were close friends. Lao Nie claimed the answer was both, simultaneously, but Lan Qiren didn’t understand that at all.)
“That is not how we do things here,” Lan Qiren said, accepting a cup. It was rude for him to allow a fellow sect leader who was his guest to serve him, rather than the other way around, but he had a headache from the persistent fever and exhaustion that was even more persistent, the boundless river of grief in his heart translating into physical agony, and anyway Lao Nie hadn’t exactly asked permission before proceeding. “It would be more appropriate for me to present a well-reasoned case for it not being necessary, based on rules, authority, and precedent.”
“Except you can’t put one together because you’re upset and tired,” Lao Nie said with a snort. “That’s stupid. You’re overworked, stretched too thin, you just found out that your friend is dead – you need sleep, not seclusion. Anyway, what happens if you do go into seclusion? Aren’t they always saying they need you to stick around to be Sect Leader so desperately?”
Lan Qiren rubbed his eyes. “It would not be true seclusion. I would be expected to continue certain parts of the work.”
“You’re joking.”
“It would be primarily administrative correspondence –”
“By that token, your brother ought to do it!”
Lan Qiren glared. “It’s not the same and you know it. And they are not wrong that I need rest.”
“From what I recall of what you’ve told me about your sect’s practice of seclusion, that’s not rest,” Lao Nie said acidly. “Surely there’s something I can do to help. I could send over some of my disciples…”
“Excellent idea,” Lan Qiren said, rolling his eyes. “We can replace all those rumors that I’ve been secretly pining for years over my best female friend with ones regarding my best male friend.”
“It is a little ‘hero rushes to save the lady’, isn’t it?” Lao Nie said thoughtfully, shaking his head in amusement. “But seriously, I came here for a reason, and it’s not Jiwei or A-Jue or anything like that. You’re always trying to help me, Qiren. For once, let me help you.”
Lan Qiren would normally protest this – because Lao Nie had so done many things for him over the years that it was an incorrect statement, because he hated the helpless feeling of letting someone do things for him, because that wasn’t something sect leaders did for each other – but he was tired and he feared seclusion and sometimes he thought it might be nice to do one thing that could be considered a little reckless before he died.
“Very well,” he said, closing his eyes and drinking the tea. “Do as you like.”
That was a dangerous thing to say to someone like Lao Nie, who promptly pulled three dozen Nie sect disciples from out of nowhere and sent them scurrying around hunting down evil with the energetic enthusiasm of youth entrusted with gigantic sabers and the freedom to use them as they would, while he himself settled in very happily in Lan Qiren’s home, sleeping on a guest bed, keeping away unwanted visitors and helping with any paperwork that didn’t explicitly require a Lan. He also recruited Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen to assist, despite Lan Qiren’s protests that bureaucratic busywork was not an appropriate way for boys of approximately fifteen and definitely twelve, respectively, to spend their time; both of them very solemnly assured Lan Qiren that they were more than happy to do whatever they could.
Even little Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang bullied their way into being involved, insisting that they wanted to do it more than they wanted to train or play, although at their ages there really wasn’t much they could do besides grind ink and run messages to the relevant recipients.
As Lan Qiren might have expected, rumors immediately started about some sort of torrid affair – life would be so much easier if everyone obeyed the rules against gossiping purposelessly – and they even got to the point that several of the sect elders cautiously hinted to him that although cutsleeve relationships were far from being in vogue, they had at no point been explicitly forbidden by the rules, and cited several provisions which seemed to favor such things.
Lan Qiren had thanked them for the reminder and caustically commented that he would be sure to incorporate that into his next set of lectures as he could see no other reason for them to mention it, and soon enough they backed off, shaking their heads. Still, those busybodies that had his best interests in mind were still preferable to the ones that started once more raising the idea of finding him a nice bride of suitable age – by suitable age, they meant too old for children, lest he get any idea of challenging his brother’s line of descent – before he did anything foolish like fall in love, or, worse, to act on it.
Obviously he had no intentions of permitting that.
Still, after a month of enforced rest, Lan Qiren was feeling a bit more himself. He took on more and more of the work, albeit supervised by five sets of judging eyes, and even began to play once more, this time without bringing anyone to tears. Jiwei and Xinfei rested together by the door in comfortable equilibrium, hot and cold, weak and powerful, and the jade pendant that Lan Qiren carried with him remained cool to the touch, not hot at all.
“You will need to go soon,” he told Lao Nie, who shrugged, not denying it – a month was a long time for a sect leader to be away from home absent some valid excuse like a war, not quite too long but starting to push it. No matter how effective one’s deputies were nor how much work one did from a distance, a sect leader was still necessary, in the end, or else Lan Qiren’s life would have been very different.
“Next week,” he said. “That’ll give me just enough time to take the boys home before heading back out again for the conference in Qishan.”
“There’s a conference? I wasn’t informed.”
“No, you weren’t, because I didn’t inform you,” Lao Nie said, utterly shameless. “You’re going to stay here and rest. It’s just a stupid party.”
“That doesn’t matter if it is also a stupid party which everyone else is attending,” Lan Qiren said sternly.
“Jiang Fengmian isn’t going, either,” Lao Nie said. “Doesn’t want to leave his new ward alone just yet…newest rumor has it that Wei Wuxian’s his bastard with Cangse Sanren.”
Lan Qiren shut his eyes. “Of course. Wasn’t I the one having the affair with her last week?”
“Perhaps it was a love triangle?”
“A square, at minimum. Don’t forget she had a husband.”
“A pyramid!”
“Lao Nie…”
Lao Nie laughed. “Jin Guangshan isn’t making it, either. His wife’s giving birth – predictions say to a daughter, I think, assuming this one survives the birth – and all accounts say that she’s threatened to cut his balls off if he even thinks of leaving Lanling City. So, you see, it really is just a stupid party, and by missing it you’ll be doing just the same thing as all the other Great Sects.”
Lan Qiren felt a sudden stab of misgiving. “Except you.”
“Except me,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “Me and Hanhan.”
Lan Qiren truly did not want to know what went on in Lao Nie’s mind sometimes.
“Why don’t you refrain from going as well?” he asked, aware he sounded tetchy and irritable like some jealous wife in an opera. “If no one else is going.”
“Oh, I have to go. A-Han asked for me specifically,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren thought to himself oh I’m certain he did, then promptly felt bad about doing so. Sneering for no reason was prohibited. “Someone’s gifted him with some magnificent saber for his collection, apparently, and he was boasting that it was the best there was right up until someone stuck their nose in it and said that it was all well and good but no comparison to my Jiwei.”
Lan Qiren could imagine exactly how well a statement like that had gone over with Wen Ruohan.
“And now he’s demanding you show up and produce evidence?” he asked, unimpressed.
Lao Nie grinned. “Ah, Qiren, it’s almost like you’ve met the man before.”
“You shouldn’t encourage him,” Lan Qiren said. “Why should you go just because he asked? He’s your equal, not your master.”
“There’s no harm in giving him some face.”
Lan Qiren could think of several ways that it could lead to harm, the inflation of Wen Ruohan’s already bloated ego being not the least of them, but Lao Nie was his equal as well, his equal and his elder. If the man had made up his mind, as it clearly appeared that he had, there was nothing Lan Qiren could say that would change it.
“Good luck, then,” he said, shaking his head, and called the boys to come in for dinner. As usual, the Lan half of the table remained mute while the Nie half did nothing but chatter, each according to their own family custom. It was a test of wills and endurance – Lan Wangji’s eye kept twitching every time Nie Huaisang filled in words for him, possibly due to the extremely high pitch Nie Huaisang chose to represent him – but it was a joy to share the time with them nonetheless.
Before Lao Nie left, Lan Qiren tried, not for the first time, to press the jade pendant that resonated with Jiwei into his hand. “You should take it with you,” he insisted. “Especially if you’re going to the Nightless City to exhibit your saber – there’s a great deal of resentful energy there, and you know that always gets Jiwei’s bloodlust up.”
“Which in turn will sharpen my reflexes, just when I need them most,” Lao Nie said, pressing the jade pendant right back into Lan Qiren’s hand. “Better you have it.”
“Lao Nie…”
“Jiwei likes you now,” Lao Nie said, as if that mattered. “She’s been just as avid to protect you as I’ve been, this past month – if I didn’t need her by my side, I’d almost be tempted to leave her here with you.”
Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting that I can’t protect myself? Here? In the Cloud Recesses?”
“Saber spirits are not smart, Qiren. But even she can tell that you’re not well yet.”
Lan Qiren waved a hand dismissively. “Well enough,” he said, and it was even true – the grief was still there, of course, and likely would be every time he thought of Cangse Sanren in the near future, excluding maybe the few times when it was one of his students that resembled her only in terms of how much mischief she would get up to, but it was no longer drowning him. He had hope that, in time, this wound would also scab over and the hurt fade, and that at that time he could once again think of her with nothing but joy.
Lao Nie huffed. “Well enough isn’t well,” he grumbled, but that didn’t stop him from gathering his children and his disciples and heading out back towards Qinghe. “Take care of yourself, Qiren! Be well!”
“And you,” Lan Qiren said. “Keep out of trouble, my friend.”
From what he later heard, the party at the Nightless City went about as anyone with half a brain might have expected: Wen Ruohan swanned around until Lao Nie showed up, there were tense words exchanged, and then Lao Nie produced Jiwei, allowing Wen Ruohan to examine her and even pat her a few times before the Wen sect leader was forced, with great reluctance and through gritted teeth, to admit her superiority to the saber he had received.
The stories ended there, but Lan Qiren had enough imagination to fill in how the rest of the night might have gone, especially with the only sect leaders there being Lao Nie and Wen Ruohan. He sincerely hoped that Lao Nie had remembered all those lectures he’d given him about the foolishness of lying in the same bed as poisonous snakes, no matter how beautiful they might be on the surface.
Perhaps he had, perhaps he hadn’t.
Either way, Lan Qiren heard nothing else until the day he interrupted his own afternoon lecture with a sudden cry of intense pain – the jade pendant had abruptly gone so hot that it had burned, and although his clothing, protected by stitched-in incantations, was unharmed, the heat was so severe that it had nevertheless left a mark on his thigh through all those layers.
Clutching at his leg, Lan Qiren ordered his students to run to fetch him cold water and a doctor, and wondered what in the world had happened.
A letter, he decided. He would write Lao Nie a letter to ask.
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jayeray-hq · 3 years
Text
The Great Christmas Bake-Off
This is my SFW secret Santa fic for @rice-hime​! You have no idea how excited I was to see that you were who I got for the SFW secret Santa, Rice! You were one of my very first requests, and I love all your writing! I know you’ve been having a bit of a tough time lately, so I hope this makes you smile! 
Want more Osamu? Check out my Character Masterlist!
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Thanks to the amazing @deathcab4daddy​ for beta-reading for me! Love you Tay! 😊💖 Timeskip/Manga Spoilers! 8.6K words
Warnings: Brief mentions of depression but drowned in Fluff
You stared out the window quietly watching the snow fall, nursing a cup of your favorite hot beverage in your hands. It was Christmas Eve day, and for the first time since you’d started dating your boyfriend, you were home alone. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Osamu was supposed to be on his way back from a business meeting in Tokyo yesterday, but inclement weather meant he hadn’t been able to travel home safely.
When you’d taken his call earlier that morning he’d told you trains were delayed, and there was no word on whether or not they’d be up and running again any time soon. It didn’t help that it had yet to stop snowing. Your poor boyfriend had sounded extremely frustrated and put out with everything when you’d talked, and you’d done your best to assure him that everything would be fine. You’d told him that you’d wait for him, and that you much preferred he get home safe rather than rush and potentially get hurt because of the weather.
             You had also made sure to tell him you didn’t blame him for not being able to make it home, that you wouldn’t be angry even if he couldn’t get home until after Christmas. It wasn’t like he could control the weather after all, and the meeting in Tokyo had been incredibly important so it wouldn’t have been possible to cancel or delay it. After all it had been about finally getting approval to open up a branch of Onigiri Miya in Tokyo, expanding his business out of the Hyogo prefecture for the first time.
             Both of you had been excited at the possibility of expanding his dream restaurant, and you firmly believed that the chance had been worth potentially missing a single Christmas with him. However, despite your beliefs it didn’t stop you from missing him, from wishing rather desperately that he was there with you and not trapped in Tokyo.
             It was probably a bit strange, but you thought it might actually be harder to not have him today than it would be to not have him on Christmas. The two of you had created your own tradition for Christmas Eve, one that you couldn’t imagine doing without him.
             It had all started back during the first year the two of you had started dating. Osamu had claimed to have the recipe for the best sugar cookies ever. You’d decided to challenge him, not really understanding just how obsessed your new boyfriend was with eating, and creating the perfect foods.
             He’d brought his recipe, one he’d spent several years perfecting, and you’d brought one you found on the internet. The two of you had made both recipes together in the kitchen on Christmas Eve Day, the one day the two of you could find that neither of you had previous obligations for.
 Originally, you’d planned to make the cookies separately, each of you making your own, on your own time, but Osamu had insisted on doing the activity together. He’d convinced you that everything had to be done with the same quality of ingredients, the same oven, and in the same space in order for things to be equal. You’d conceded, figuring your new boyfriend was even more of a food nut than you’d initially assumed and finding it rather cute. It wouldn’t be until several years down the line that he’d admitted he’d only insisted so he could spend more time with you.
 After the cookies were baked, you then frosted and decorated them with the exact same frosting and tried both for comparison. In the end, you’d been forced to concede that his were much better than the ones from the recipe you’d found, but had sworn you’d find something better by the next year. Thus, your little tradition had been born.
 This year you had all the ingredients, bought well beforehand, all the equipment, and your own beautiful kitchen that you shared with your boyfriend. The recipe you’d picked out even had thousands of five-star reviews. The problem, of course, was that you didn’t have your boyfriend. Technically speaking, you could probably do it yourself. You’d made his version of the cookies with him enough times now you could do it in your sleep, but it wouldn’t be the same.
 Thus, you’d decided to wait until he came home. Was it a little disappointing not to be able to do it on the day you’d planned? Yes of course, but it couldn’t be helped. However, you’d rather do it on a different day than do it without your boyfriend. It was just one more thing that had gone wrong this year, which hadn’t been all that great considering everything that had happened.
 It was honestly wearing, and the blow of not having him there felt far heavier than it would under normal circumstances. Usually you’d be able to shrug it off with a smile and go about your day, but with everything else it felt like the straw that broke the camel’s back. You’d done your best to put on a cheerful, optimistic façade during your phone call with your boyfriend, not wanting to stress him out more than he already was.
 However, after that call you’d spent a good majority of your morning feeling out of sorts, listless, and unmotivated to do much of anything but watch the snow fall and hope it would let up soon. You wanted your boyfriend home, not just because you wanted to make cookies with him, but because Osamu gave the best hugs, and there was nothing you wanted more than to be wrapped up in his arms for a while.
 The sound of several loud knocks at the door startled you out of trying to quietly calculate how long it might take the snow to stop and when your boyfriend might be home. You hadn’t been expecting any guests today, but the sound of a scraping key in the lock let you know exactly who was at the door before it opened. After all, there was only one person who would knock like he was trying to break the door down and who you’d given a key, even if it had been a rather reluctant concession on your boyfriend’s part.
 “Well, ain’t this cheery,” a voice that was both exactly what you wanted to hear, and absolutely not at the same time, announced as your boyfriend’s twin brother breezed into the door. You shivered slightly at the cold wind he let in with his arrival, and turned to watch in bemusement as he stomped off the snow from his boots and began stripping off his outer layers, clearly making himself at home.
 “Atsumu,” you greeted, a little puzzled at the blond twin’s sudden unannounced arrival at your home, “What are you doing here? You know Samu is still in Tokyo, right?”
 “Is that really the way ya should be greetin’ yer future brother-in-law?” he asked teasingly, a wide grin on his face, “And o’ course I knew! Who do ya think was the first person that scrubby brother of mine called after he got off the phone with ya?”
 “Your mother probably,” you countered wryly, “Considering she was probably worried about him, and both of you are too afraid of her to not check in when she wants you to.”
 “Okay, so the second person,” Atsumu conceded without argument, making you smirk slightly. It always amused you that the twins were absolutely petrified of getting on their mother’s bad side. The Miya matriarch was a sweet, kindly woman, who absolutely doted on you, but according to the twins she was actually a dragon in disguise and downright terrifying in the same way Kita Shinsuke apparently was. You’d personally never witnessed this so-called terrifying side, but you had bowed to the twins’ experience.
 “So what, ‘Samu asked you to check on me?” you asked with a frown. You’d been fairly certain you’d managed to conceal your feelings from your boyfriend, but maybe you hadn’t done as good a job as you’d thought you had.
 “Actually, he sent me here ta be yer assistant fer the day,” Atsumu told you with a slight pout on his face, “Somethin’ about subbin’ in fer him and makin’ cookies.”
 “You realize you can’t actually sub out for one another in real life, right?” you asked him with a sigh. You were torn between annoyance that your boyfriend would think it was alright to substitute his twin in his place for your tradition, and touched that he wanted you to still be able to do it despite the fact that he wasn’t there.
 “Hey! I will have ya know that yer getting’ the superior twin fer the day!” Atsumu protested giving you a cocky smirk, “I even agreed ta put myself at yer disposal and everythin’!”
 “What did he bribe you with?” you asked skeptically, well aware the twins, despite being fond of each other deep down, never actually did anything for one another without at least some token bribery.
 “I can’t just come ta bake cookies with my brother’s lovely girlfriend outta the goodness of my heart?” Atsumu demanded, clearly affronted. You raised an eyebrow at him, and waited arms folded across your chest.
 “Okay so maybe there was a promise of some of those famous sugar cookies fer myself,” he conceded, with a huff.
 “Thought so,” you acknowledged with a triumphant smile, ignoring his indignant grumbles about Osamu dating a woman as scary as Kita and their mother.
 “Does that mean ya aren’t gonna make cookies with me?” Atsumu whined unhappily, “After I came all this way in the snow and everythin’ just ta help ya out?”
 “You literally live a block and a half away,” you protested with a laugh.
 “Doesn’t mean it wasn’t a cold, wet, and miserable block an a half,” he informed you with a pout, “C’mon please? I never get any cookies from the two of ya, ‘Samu always hogs em all!”
 You briefly considered saying no, wanting to uphold the sanctity of tradition. You’d meant what you’d said before, you couldn’t just replace one twin with the other. You loved Atsumu, but he wasn’t your boyfriend, more like a bratty little brother, ironic considering he was technically the older twin. However, even just his presence had been a fantastic distraction from how miserable you’d been before. Besides, Atsumu could be a lot of fun in his own way, and you could always make cookies with Osamu later.
 “Fine,” you conceded with a huff, “Let’s make cookies then.”
 “Alright!” He cheered his entire face lighting up with a boyish grin, the same grin your boyfriend wore whenever he got to cook something new. It was simultaneously comforting and a bit of a punch to the gut, though you chose to push aside the negative feeling and focus on the positive for now. Even if your boyfriend wasn’t here you still had a friend with you, one who was surprisingly sweet when he wanted to be, and you were grateful for it.
 Baking with Atsumu turned out to be absolutely nothing like baking with Osamu. With your boyfriend, the two of you had it down to an art, working with and around one another easily. You trusted one another in the kitchen and were very used to one another’s presence and it showed. Atsumu on the other hand, was a bit of a disaster.
 For all that the man was absolutely graceful on the volleyball court, it turned out he was a bit of a disaster in the kitchen. He did admittedly know what he was doing, he just wasn’t as careful as he should be. It meant eggshells accidentally got in the batter and had to be fished out, baking soda and baking powder got confused, the vanilla got knocked over, and flour exploded everywhere when he turned on the mixer, covering the two of you and leaving white residue everywhere.
 It took twice as long as it usually did because you spent over half your time babysitting Atsumu to ensure he didn’t screw anything up too badly. By the end of it all you, Atsumu and the kitchen were a mess, but you were smiling. The presence of your boyfriend’s twin having cheered you immensely, mostly because despite how cool they tried to act, both Miya twins were idiots, lovable idiots, but idiots nonetheless.
 You were so caught up in Atsumu’s antics that you didn’t notice you’d been joined by someone new, not until an extremely annoyed voice piped up, “Oy, ya scrub! What the hell did ya do ta my kitchen and my girl huh?”
 You whirled around surprised to see your boyfriend standing in the entryway, flecks of snow still clinging to his hair and eyelashes as he glared at his twin. Your heart jumped in your chest, a mixture of disbelief and joy swirling inside of you at the sight of him, home where he should be when you’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to make it at all.
 “Ya told me to distract her so I distracted her,” Atsumu protested, “And yer the scrubby one ya scrub! I ain’t the one who got stuck in Tokyo after all!”
 “’Samu!” you practically barreled into your boyfriend, throwing yourself at him without even bothering to take off your dirty apron. Not that he seemed to mind at all, catching you up in his arms and cradling you to his chest without complaint, nuzzling his face into your hair.
 “Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, pressing an affectionate kiss to the side of your head, both of you ignoring the gagging sounds Atsumu was making in the background.
 “What are you doing here?” you asked a bit tearfully, “I thought you weren’t going to make it home?”
 “And miss Christmas with you, sweets? Not a chance,” he assured you, pulling back a bit so he could cradle your face in one of his large hands, swiping his thumb affectionately along your cheekbone.
 “But I thought the trains weren’t running?” you pointed out anxiously.
 “They’re not. I rented a car and drove,” he admitted with a casual shrug, as if he hadn’t admitted to making a six-hour drive in terrible conditions.
 “’Samu that’s dangerous,” you protested. Your eyes automatically roving over him to assure yourself he was there and in one piece, as your hands clutched at him a reminder that he was solid, warm, and present, “I could’ve waited for you. I would’ve waited for you.”
 “I was real careful sweetheart,” he assured you earnestly, “Drove slow and everythin’ plus the highways weren’t so bad, promise. I just really wanted ta be home with ya fer Christmas, and I didn’t want ya to be frettin’ bout me, which is why I sent ‘Tsumu over to distract ya.”
 “Well, he did that at least,” you acknowledged with a huff, casting a glance at Atsumu who looked immeasurably pleased with himself.
 “And made a right mess of the kitchen while he was at it,” Osamu noted with clear disapproval on his face, as he gazed around the disaster zone.
 “Hey, I’ll have ya know we’re equally responsible fer the mess,” Atsumu informed him promptly shifting some of the blame your way, completely unashamed at the blatant lie, “Yer girl helped me out too.”
 The completely unimpressed look your boyfriend leveled at him let you know just how much he believed his brother. Which was, of course, not a bit. Osamu knew you were fairly tidy when the two of you worked together, so he knew who was at fault for the mess. Still, you were grateful that Atsumu had come over at all. It was sweet of him in his own way, so you decided you wouldn’t let him take the fall on his own, not this time anyway.
 “Don’t worry ‘Samu, Atsumu and I will clean it up,” you assured him, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth.
 Your boyfriend let out a long-suffering sigh in response, giving you a look that told you he knew exactly what you were doing. However, he must’ve been feeling pretty indulgent because he went along with it anyway, “Alright sweetheart, let me just put my things away and I’ll help the two of ya clean up.”
 “You don’t have to,” you insisted, reluctantly releasing him so he could move away, “Atsumu and I can handle it.”
 “Yeah ‘Samu, we don’t need ya,” Atsumu taunted, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling a face at his twin, “So buzz off, or I won’t share any of my cookies with ya!”
 “Pretty sure it’s my kitchen and my ingredients ya used to make those cookies,” Osamu pointed out, leveling a glare at his brother, clear annoyance written all over his face.
 “And I think I’m the one who made them, bought the ingredients, and it’s my kitchen too, which I believe makes them my cookies,” you informed the twins before they could really start squabbling, “And I won’t be sharing with either of you if you don’t behave. ‘Samu go put your things away and get settled in, and Atsumu we have a kitchen to clean.”
 The twins exchanged glances over your head, one of those looks that spoke volumes and sometimes made you wonder if they could read one another’s minds. However, in the end they conceded, Osamu ambling down the hall with his bags and Atsumu joining you to clean up the mess in the kitchen, though not before Osamu pressed an affectionate kiss to your cheek.
 Between the two of you it didn’t take too long to clean the kitchen up, and get everything looking pristine. It did slow down a bit when Osamu returned from your bedroom and began ‘supervising’ meaning heckling his brother and generally being a pain as he insisted things weren’t clean enough.
 By the time you finished, all the cookies were out of the oven and completely cooled, which meant it was time for frosting. Luckily this time things went much faster as Atsumu was firmly pushed out of the kitchen by Osamu, who insisted it was only right he take over since it was his tradition with you. Atsumu whined, but had eventually been appeased by you agreeing to let him lick the spoon.
 You laid out several bowls and split up your icing, quickly deciding to do red, yellow, green, and white for your colors to make it nice and simple. Or at least it should’ve been nice and easy, if not for Atsumu’s commentary.
 “Is that supposed to be red?” Atsumu asked, casually licking frosting off as he watched his brother add food coloring to the frosting, “Cuz I’m tellin’ ya it definitely looks pink from where I’m standin’.”
 A quick glance over your boyfriend’s shoulder proved that it was a little on the pink side, but getting a true red with frosting was extremely difficult without adding enough food coloring to stain your mouth. Though the comments didn’t stop there either.
 “Is that really a Christmas green? I’m thinkin’ it looks kinda pastel, don’tcha think ‘Samu?” he pressed eyeing the other bowl, “I hope ya don’t think I’m gonna be decoratin’ my cookies with such a weak lookin’ color.”
 “Who says yer getting’ to decorate any cookies at all, huh?” Osamu demanded flatly.
 “I did, cuz I helped make ‘em,” Atsumu informed him bluntly, “And I’m gonna do a much better job than you could even dream of.”
 “Oh, ya think so do ya?” Osamu asked, his eye twitching slightly in clear annoyance.
 “I know so,” Atsumu informed him smugly.
 “Then how about a bet?” your boyfriend proposed, with a challenging stare at his brother, “Whoever decorates the best cookie wins.”
 “What do I get when I win?” Atsumu demanded, as you watched them go back and forth feeling a bit like a spectator at a tennis match.
 “The cookies o’ course,” Osamu proposed evenly, staring his brother down.
 “No way! I was supposed to get ‘em anyway fer comin’ over here to help out, and I ain’t wagerin’ ‘em fer nothin’ in return,” Atsumu protested, vehemently.
 “Fine, the cookies an I’ll make ya bento fer a week,” Osamu countered, “But in return when I win, I get the cookies an’ you have ta deal with Ritsu Baa-chan at the annual holiday party.”
 You snorted at that, trying hard not to laugh at Atsumu’s terrified expression. Ritsu Baa-chan was their grandmother’s sister, their great aunt. She was honestly a rather sweet elderly woman, but she was also a bit blind and couldn’t tell the twins apart despite having different hair colors. She also liked to pinch cheeks a lot, and tended to go on long tangents about her youth.
 “That’s unless yer chicken?” your boyfriend taunted, well aware his brother would fall for it.
 “Fine, yer on, but she ain’t allowed to judge,” he compromised, the sudden finger in your face making you flinch in surprise. Honestly, you’d thought the twins had forgotten you were there for a moment, so the unexpected acknowledgment was a bit baffling.
 “Don’t point at her. It’s rude,” ‘Samu scolded, smacking Atsumu’s hand with the back of the frosting covered spoon he’d been using to mix, making the blond yelp in surprise and indignation, “And who’s gonna judge if not her eh? Don’t tell me yer tryin’ to say somethin’s wrong with my girlfriend.”
 “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with her!” Atsumu conceded immediately, shooting you an apologetic look. For all the twins argued, he’d always been extremely courteous to you outside a bit of teasing, so you weren’t at all hurt, “But she still can’t judge, she’ll just pick ya and won’t give me a fair chance cuz yer her boyfriend!”
 “So, who’s gonna judge then?” your boyfriend asked skeptically, “Everyone we know likes me better.”
 “That ain’t true!” Atsumu pouted at him, as he absently licked the frosting off the back of his hand, earning a disgusted look from his twin, “Everyone knows I’m the superior twin!”
 You watched them squabble for a minute as you considered their little conundrum. Osamu had told you back in high school he’d been known as the ‘nice twin’ of the two of them. It was actually a little hilarious to you, as the longer you’d spent around your boyfriend, getting to know both him and Atsumu by extension, the more you realized he wasn’t actually nicer. He just hid it better.
 According to Aran, your one trustworthy source on what the twins had been like in high school, things had gotten better as the twins matured, Atsumu becoming a little less uptight, and Osamu a little more open. When you’d met Osamu in college and then Atsumu shortly after, you wouldn’t have pegged either of them as nice or better necessarily, until you’d gotten to know them. Osamu was simply a bit more laidback than his twin, sarcastic, and witty. He was a bit more conscious of the people around him, and their opinions. He was also quieter and less prone to emotional outbursts. It made him come off a bit more thoughtful and mature, though he definitely still had his moments. He was meticulous and incredibly sweet when he wanted to be.
 Atsumu on the other hand, was a ball of energy- impulsive but fun. If he loved something he loved it wholeheartedly, and if he hated something he hated it just as ardently. He definitely came off as less mature, and a bit more naïve in some ways as well, which was why you’d never been able to see him as anything more than a good friend or younger brother figure despite being head over heels for his twin.
 You wouldn’t call the two of them opposites per se, but you would say to those who knew them knew that the twins were very different. It meant that despite them sharing a lot of the same friends, most of those friends had a ‘favorite’ of the twins, one whose company they preferred even if they liked both of them. It made having someone neutral to be the judge of the outcome of the little bets they liked to make with each other a bit of an interesting conundrum.
 The only two friends you could think of off the top of your head who both twins would agree on as neutral were Aran and Kita. However, you weren’t about to let the twins pester their friends on Christmas Eve. Luckily, there was one person who was guaranteed neutral that not even the twins would argue against, and who wouldn’t mind having you call, would in fact probably enjoy it a lot.
 “Why don’t we ask your mom to judge then?” you cut in, breaking off their little tiff, “We should call her tonight anyway, to wish her happy holidays. You let her know you got home safely didn’t you ‘Samu?”
 “Course I did,” your boyfriend agreed looking a bit horrified that you’d think he wouldn’t, “I ain’t a scrub like ‘Tsumu.”
 “A guy forgets to text one time,” Atsumu whined, looking more than a bit traumatized at the mere mention of the wrath he’d apparently brought down on his head for forgetting.
 “Then we’ll have her judge,” you told them, ending the argument you knew could last hours if you didn’t intervene, “It will be nice to talk to her later anyway.”
 The twins exchanged another of their speaking looks, but in the end agreed to do things your way. In order to be fair, you split up the cookies and frosting as evenly as you could between the three of you, and set to work.
 Honestly, you probably should’ve known it would be a disaster. The twins had always been competitive, and liked to do anything they could to win, which apparently meant sabotage. It had started off innocently enough, and you were fairly sure it was an accident. Atsumu’s elbow had knocked into an open bottle of red sugar sprinkles and tipped the whole thing on to one of Osamu’s cookies.
 Your boyfriend had been outraged of course, and immediately tried to retaliate by smearing red frosting on to Atsumu’s green Christmas tree. It had only escalated from there, as sprinkles and frosting flew, Osamu’s usual concern for his kitchen flying out the window in the face of competition with his brother.
 Luckily, you’d had the foresight to put yourself outside the disaster zone, well aware there was nothing that brought out immaturity from your boyfriend quite like Atsumu. Therefore, instead of stressing, you got to watch, thoroughly entertained from the side lines. Taking a leaf from Suna’s book, you recording some of it on your phone, fully prepared to share it later.
 You couldn’t help the quiet giggles that escaped your lips as you watched their antics, giggles that devolved into side splitting laughter as Osamu, fed up with having sprinkles flicked at him by Atsumu, dipped his hand into the frosting and smeared it all over his brother’s face.
 Both twins froze at the sound, your boyfriend giving you a soft fond look, the kind he reserved just for you. He quickly abandoned his cookies to come over to where you were sitting so he could wrap his arms around you.
 “Samu you’re getting frosting all over me,” you protested with a laugh even as you hugged him in return, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.
 “Ya know ya love it, sweetheart,” Osamu teased affectionately, “Besides weren’t ya the one who got flour all over me earlier?”
 You hummed in agreement, sighing contentedly in his arms. You probably could’ve stayed there for a good while longer, except you were interrupted by a very pointed throat clearing.
 “I’m still here ya know,” Atsumu pointed out clearly disgruntled, “Can’t ya save yer gross coupley stuff until I don’t have to watch?”
 “Yer just jealous,” Osamu brushed him off, squeezing you affectionately and shooting his brother a look over your head, “Ya don’t have to watch ya know. Yer free to leave at any time.”
 “An’ leave ya alone to sabotage my cookies?” the blond demanded self-righteously, “What do ya think I’m an idiot or somethin’?”
 The look your boyfriend gave his brother for that question was really all the answer that was needed. You coughed, pressing your face into his neck to stifle your giggles at the extremely indignant look on Atsumu’s face.
 “I ain’t gonna sabotage yer cookies, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu informed his brother, resting his cheek on top of your head, “I don’t think they could get any uglier if I tried.”
 “An whose fault is that!” Atsumu protested, as easily riled as usual, “Besides it ain’t like yers are any better!”
 It was true both of their cookies were complete and utter disasters, a smear of frosting all blended together into an ugly brownish color with only hints of the previous green and red. Mounds of sprinkles were smeared in and thrown everywhere in a mish mash of colored sugar some on the cookies but a lot on the floor. They honestly barely looked edible, even though you were sure the taste was probably fine. They were, truthfully, some of the ugliest cookies you’d ever seen in your life.
 “Still better than yers,” Osamu countered stubbornly, “I’m still gonna win.”
 “Like hell ya are, mine are clearly superior!” Atsumu retorted.
 “We’ll leave that up to Miya-san to decide,” you cut in before they could really start bickering again, “In the meantime, why don’t we all get cleaned up.”
 You glanced pointedly at Atsumu’s face, still covered in flecks of frosting despite his attempts to wipe it clean, along with the globs on his shirt, and at Osamu’s hair, which was shedding sprinkles everywhere.
 Atsumu grimaced down at this shirt, pouting at the frosting that covered it, and promptly reached for the hem, clearly ready to strip it right off. He didn’t get very far, as Osamu promptly released you to smack at his twins hands.
 “The hell! Don’t just start strippin’ ya scrub!” your boyfriend protested.
 “Why not?” Atsumu protested genuinely baffled, “It ain’t like ya’ve never seen it before ‘Samu, we shared a room fer years.”
 “Do ya always just casually take yer shirt off in front of girls without warnin’?” Osamu asked aggrieved, “No wonder ya can’t get a girlfriend!”
 “Oy! I’ll have ya know the ladies love when I take my shirt off,” Atsumu informed him snottily.
 “Well my lady doesn’t,” Osamu informed him, gesturing to where you were sitting, watching the whole thing play out.
 “Why would she mind?” Atsumu pointed out snottily, “If she’s seen ya naked, she’s basically seen me too.”
 “Eww no,” you interjected, unable to resist, your face scrunching up in disgust, even as your boyfriend smacked his brother over the back of the head.
 “What do ya mean eww no?” Atsumu demanded clutching at his head and turning slightly watery eyes on you, glaring in offense, “We’re twins! We look the exact same!”
 “’Samu is sexy,” you explained with a shrug, unable to resist teasing him a little, “You’re just… you.”
 Atsumu squawked in indignation, clearly very offended, though your boyfriend just looked amused, winking at you from behind his brother’s back and adding, “That’s right, so keep yer damn shirt on ‘Tsumu, no one wants to see it.”
 “But it’s got brown gunk all over it,” he whined gesturing at the rather unfortunately colored frosting smeared down his front from where he’d wiped his face clean with it, “It looks like someone wiped their ass with it!”
 You choked at the realization that he was unfortunately correct, nearly falling off your chair as you were overtaken by laughter again. Really, the twins could start their own comedy show, you had the feeling they’d make a killing. It was no wonder Suna had managed to collect so much blackmail on them over the years, the two of them really made it too easy.
 “So, go home and change then stupid,” Osamu informed his brother flatly, though you could tell from the way his lips twitched that he also found it terribly amusing.
 “No way!” Atsumu griped, “If ya don’t want me shirtless in front of yer girlfriend then just let borrow a shirt ya jerk!”
 “Go get yer own,” your boyfriend countered, completely unimpressed, “No way in hell am I lendin’ ya one of mine again. I’ll never get it back.”
 “Yer so cruel ‘Samu, and here everyone still thinks yer the nice twin,” Atsumu informed his brother snottily, “Tryin’ to send me out into a storm like that!”
 Surprised you glanced at the window only to find Atsumu was right, the weather had gone from bad to worse. Enormous flakes of snow falling from the sky, coming down so hard you could barely see the blurred outline of the home across the street from yours. It looked like a genuine blizzard out there. It looked absolutely nasty, and even though he did live fairly close by you were hesitant to send Atsumu out in it.
 You glanced at your boyfriend, and he clearly saw the concern on your face because he heaved a sigh and nodded in acknowledgment.
 “Fine ‘Tsumu, but yer changin’ in the bathroom so ya don’t make a mess in our room, and ya ain’t leavin’ in it. Rinse yer shirt while yer in there and toss it in the wash,” Osamu ordered as he grabbed hold of his brother hauling him away down the hall, completely ignoring Atsumu’s protests at being manhandled.
 You smiled after them for a moment, amused. You knew without a doubt, no matter how much he griped about it, that Osamu would never have sent Atsumu home when the weather was like this. Which meant you should probably resign yourself to having a guest for the night. Not that you minded all that much.
 You’d known from the beginning that while they were separate people, the Miya twins came as a set. If you were going to be dating Osamu, Atsumu was going to be part of your life, that was a simple, inarguable fact. You were just glad you got along well with him, even if having the two of them together did end with your kitchen a complete and utter disaster area for the second time that day.
 Huffing a sigh, you finished up the last of your own cookies that you’d carefully kept out of the line of fire, covered them and hid them in one of the cupboards. You were well aware if you didn’t they were bound to get snitched by one of the twins. With your cookies safe, you surveyed the mess that was the kitchen and grabbed a cloth intent on getting things cleaned back up again while you had the chance.
 Your work was interrupted by the feel of strong arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you upright and back into a solid chest. You immediately relaxed into the embrace tilting your head back against your boyfriend’s shoulder so you could see him.
 “Hi there,” you greeted affectionately, tossing the rag you’d been using to wipe things down on to the counter in favor of wrapping your arms over his, savoring the feeling of being held.
 “Hey sweetness,” he returned, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, “I missed ya.”
 “I missed you too,” you admitted quietly, “I’m so glad you made it home, even if you really should’ve stayed where it was safe.”
 “Like I’d let somethin’ as stupid as a snowstorm keep me away from my girl on Christmas Eve,” Osamu scoffed, “This is our day. I wasn’t gonna miss it fer anythin’ sweetheart.”
 You hummed in response, feeling immeasurably comforted by the feel of him wrapped around you, the loneliness and depression chased away completely by the afternoon’s laughter and the warm presence of your boyfriend.
 “How’d the meeting go?” you asked quietly as he rocked the two of you back and forth, the motion familiar and soothing. You’d learned early on he was completely unable to stay still for any length of time unless he was sleeping, a trait he shared with his twin.
 “It was good. The investors are all in, looks like we’re gonna get our new shop in Tokyo after all,” he told you, clear pride in his voice.
 “Our shop huh?” you asked teasingly, more than a bit touched that he said it so easily. Onigiri Miya was his dream after all, and the fact that he shared it so openly with you meant the world.
 “O’course sweetheart,” he told you, “I…!”
 Unfortunately, whatever he might’ve wanted to say after that was interrupted by the untimely arrival of his brother, who reappeared, dressed in a clean shirt, all traces of frosting removed from his person.
 “Oy! This place is still a disaster! I thought ya said ya were goin’ ta help her clean, ‘Samu?” he demanded, turning judging eyes on the kitchen.
 You sighed, partly annoyed and partly amused at the sheer audacity of the blond twin, as Osamu reluctantly untangled himself from you. The glare he sent his twin would’ve had lesser men cringing away, but Atsumu was unfortunately rather immune by this point.
 “Ya have no sense of timing at all do ya, ya scrub?” Osamu asked him rhetorically, heaving a put-upon sigh before smacking his brother over the back of the head in punishment and shoving a cloth in his hands, ordering to, “Help clean too, ya ungrateful jerk! Since half this mess is yers anyways.”
 Luckily, though they squabbled through the whole thing, they did manage to get things cleaned up, just in time for dinner. The snow was still coming down hard, so you quickly invited Atsumu to stay, though Osamu ordered him to stay out of the kitchen. He went, though you quickly sent Osamu after him, insisting that he’d had a long day of travel and didn’t need to cook tonight as you’d fully planned to cook for the two of you.
 Osamu gave you a soft look for that, one that got him thoroughly teased by Atsumu for being a sap. Your boyfriend pressed a quick, chaste kiss to your lips before joining his brother to stream the latest Black Jackals game on the tv, clearly fully intending to heckle his brother over any mistakes he made while you put together something for all three of you to eat.
 Dinner was lively and enjoyable as Osamu told the two of you more about the meeting in Tokyo. Apparently, the area they were looking to open the next restaurant was in a prime location, and construction would start after the new year once the property lease was signed. If things went well it would be open before summer, which was incredibly exciting.
 In turn, Atsumu shared some of what he’d been up to with the Jackals. He had a lot of funny stories to tell about the players you’d met briefly and heard lots of stories about from their high school days. His stories about Hinata Shouyou, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Bokuto Koutarou in particular were always amusing, mostly because they were always teasing him in some way, never allowing him to get his way completely.
 The twins also asked you some about what you’d been up to, and you shared the things that you knew they’d find interesting, little anecdotes about your day, or small stories you knew would make them laugh. It was honestly heartwarming how both of them worked to include you in their dynamic, trying to ensure you never felt excluded, and you understood how very much it meant that they tried so hard for you.
 After dinner the three of you gathered together at the twins insistence to video call their mother. The kindly woman answered on the third ring, and immediately leveled a suspicious look at the twins.
 “What did the two of ya do now?” she asked clearly resigned to whatever antics the twins had gotten up to this point. You giggled, unable to help yourself at the identical expressions of offense on their faces.
 “Oh, hello darling!” their mother greeted you warmly, “How are ya doin’? Are these two rascals causin’ trouble fer ya?”
 “Hello Miya-san,” you returned just as warm, to the woman who’d gladly welcomed you into their family with open arms, nudging your face into the frame so you could see her better, “It’s good to see you!”
 “You too dear, and I told ya, no need for Miya-san, call me kaa-san okay? Yer my future daughter-in-law after all!” she told you jovially, making you flush slightly, pleased and a little flustered, glancing hesitantly at your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t look at all bothered by the insinuation, simply watching you with a fond look in his eyes.
 “Kaa-san then,” you agreed a little shyly, earning a beaming smile in return.
 “What can I do fer ya tonight darlin’?” she asked, both of you ignoring the way Atsumu was grumbling to his brother about how unfair it was that their mother loved you more than she loved them.
 “The twins are having a bit of a contest and we were hoping you’d be a neutral judge,” you told her with an amused grin.
 “Really?” she asked partly amused, partly resigned, “Again? Ya would’ve thought at their age they’d stop doin’ silly things like this, but I shoulda known. I really probably shoulda stopped ‘em the very first time they brought me the prettiest rocks they could find and asked which I liked better when they were toddlers. It was too cute at the time though, and I didn’t have the heart ta tell em to knock it off.”
 “That is cute,” you told her with a helpless little grin, giving your boyfriend, who was pointedly not looking at you, a fond look trying not to giggle at the slight pink tinge on his cheeks. He at least was doing better than Atsumu who was fire engine red and sputtering indignantly.
 “So, what did they do this time?” she prompted, looking all too amused at having managed to embarrass them both, the vicious twinkle in her eyes reminding you yet again where the two of them had gotten their mischievous side from.
 “Decorated Christmas cookies,” you told her wryly amused, “I’ve been volunteered to show them to you, so you don’t know whose is whose.”
 The two of you exchanged eye rolls at that, both completely done with how seriously the twins took their ridiculous contests. It was a little hilarious honestly while also being simultaneously endearing and annoying.
 “Let’s see it then,” she agreed, heaving a put-upon sigh.
             You did as asked, holding up the plate with the two cookies. The twins had each chosen the one they thought came out best from their lot, though that wasn’t saying much considering they all looked rather terrible. The look on her face let you know that their mother shared your thoughts on this as she deadpanned at the cookies, which were a complete and utter mess.
             “Is yer kitchen still intact?” she asked, her spot-on guess startling you into laughter as the twins both gave indignant shouts, Osamu insisting he would never destroy his own kitchen, and Atsumu indignant at being accused of destroying kitchens in general.
             “It was a bit of a mess for a while, but they cleaned it up for me,” you answered easily, completely ignoring the pout sent your way from Atsumu and the betrayal on the face of your boyfriend for outing them to their mom.
             “Well there’s that at least,” she conceded with a put-upon sigh, “Did ya save any of the cookies fer yerself darlin’.”
             You grinned at her and stood, retrieving your own nicely decorated cookies from where you’d hid them earlier to show them off to her, “I did kaa-san, these ones are for me, and for the holiday party in a couple days.”
             “Yer such a good girl,” she praised with a proud smile, “It’s no wonder yer my favorite child.”
             “Oy!” both twins protested, clearly indignant, though Osamu looked torn between indignation and pride. Still she completely ignored them with the ease of long practice.
             “I think it’s obvious who the winner is dears, hers are much better than either of yers,” their mother proclaimed, her word clearly final, making the twins sulk.
             “How did ya know somethin’ went wrong with ours anyway?” Atsumu whined, taking his own cookie from the plate and shoving it into his mouth rather mutinously.
             “I’m well aware neither of ya have much in the way of artistic skills,” their mother informed him with a put-upon sigh, “But that was bad even for the two of ya. Besides I’m yer kaa-san, it’s my job ta’ know.”
             You giggled at that, well aware that it was the truth. Osamu could make a very pretty plate of food when he wanted to, but only when he was copying someone else. He didn’t seem to have a single original bone in his body when it came to design or aesthetics even if some of the recipes he came up with were absolutely inspired. Atsumu also could pull off beautiful movements, and plays in volleyball that were enough to impress the most seasoned of professionals. However, you’d seen him attempt to color before and the man could barely keep within the lines. There was no doubt the twins were talented, but artistic they were most certainly not.
             With the cookie judgment out of the way, the rest of the conversation was nice and casual. The family was actually due to meet up in a few days, and you were looking forward to it. The Miyas had treated you like family from the very first time Osamu had brought you home, welcoming you with open arms, and you never failed to feel included and loved when they had their gatherings.
             It didn’t hurt that your boyfriend never failed to keep an arm around you the entire time. The affectionate gesture garnered only approval from his relatives, even as it reassured you of his presence at your side.
             By the time you’d finished up your conversation with the twins’ mother it was fairly late, and just as you’d expected the snow was still coming down rather heavily. Atsumu had made one, incredibly half-hearted attempt to leave, and Osamu one even less fervent attempt to push him out the door. Attempts that your fervent insistence he stay in the guest room, one that was basically his anyway, easily overrode.
             The three of you chatted for a while longer, but eventually the long day caught up with your boyfriend. Atsumu teased him a bit about going to bed early like an old man, but considering he was yawning just as badly at that point, he didn’t really have a leg to stand on. You’d ushered both of them off to bed, following Osamu into your shared bedroom. The two of you had your night time routine down pat by now, easily working around one another to get ready for bed.
             You’d just settled down on the side you’d claimed for yourself when you were gently tugged forward, your boyfriend pulling you into his arms. You went without a fuss, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar comforting scent.
             “Thanks for today,” you told him, lifting your face so you could look him in the eye. You were more than a bit sleepy after all the activity from the day, but you really wanted to tell him this before you let yourself fall asleep, “For sending Atsumu to cheer me up, for distracting me and making me smile.”
             You were well aware that both twins had played up their antics a bit for you today. Yes, they bickered, but it had been a bit over the top even for them. It was only as you’d been talking to their mother that you realized how well they’d distracted you from the glum mood you’d been in, not just earlier that day but for a while now as things had begun to weigh on you. You’d thought you’d hidden it well, but apparently your boyfriend knew you too well for that and had gone out of his way to help cheer you up, even dragging his brother into it.
             “I’m the one who should be thankin’ you,” he pointed out gently brushing his fingers over your cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “Fer puttin’ up with his whiney ass, especially since he destroyed our kitchen twice.”
             There was a tenderness in his face and voice that belayed his words as he casually brushed off your thanks, one that let you know he knew just how much it had meant to you, and that he was just pleased it had worked. He’d always said he didn’t need thanks for being there for you, for cheering you up when you were down, or holding you when you needed it, and it seemed he was determined to stand by those words.
             “He was sweet,” you protested a bit on his behalf, accepting the gentle redirection with grace and giggling a bit at the skeptical look he gave you for that assertion, “Besides it was partly your fault the kitchen got destroyed a second time.”
             “Keep talkin’ like that and I’m gonna start ta think ya prefer him over me,” he grumbled at you a slight pout on his lips, one that you were quick to press a smacking kiss to, your over dramatics making him smile.
             “You know you’re my favorite Miya twin, ‘Samu,” you told him earnestly, gently brushing his dark hair back from his forehead and meeting his eyes, hoping he could see the honesty in your own, “Always and forever.”
             “If ya say it like that sweetheart, then I guess I’ve got no choice but ta believe ya,” he told you, a faint smile tugging his lips upwards, the soft look he reserved just for you on his face, “Cause always and fer ever is just exactly what I’m after with ya.”
             “Good,” you told him, nuzzling your nose against his, and smiling into the soft kiss he pressed to your willing mouth, “that’s all I want, for this Christmas and for every Christmas to come.”
             “Ya’ve got me sweetheart,” he assured you, his voice warm and filled with promise.
             “I love you, ‘Samu,” you murmured to him tiredly, unable to help the yawn that took you over. You were utterly exhausted.
             “I love ya too sweetness,” he affirmed fervently, gently tucking you into his chest and settling the two of you comfortably into the bed, “sleep well.”
             You hummed in agreement, unaware that as you fell asleep his eyes were locked on the bedside table, quietly contemplating the future and the small precious box he’d hidden in there earlier, where it would be safe from your prying eyes. He’d thought he’d had the perfect moment earlier when you’d asked why he’d called the new Tokyo branch ‘ours’ instead of his, but then ‘Tsumu had interrupted.
             That was alright though. He had time. Time to figure out just what he wanted to say, and time to ensure you really truly understood how much you meant to him. You’d said always and forever, and he intended to hold up his end of the bargain, for this Christmas and every Christmas to come.
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mihidecet · 4 years
Text
SBI d&d AU: Tommy (1)
Here it is! Tommy’s pov really put the hamster inside my brain in a splendid mood, so his story is currently split into two (might be three, depending on how much more I’m willing to indulge my craving for found family dynamics). I’m probably going to post the second part in a couple of weeks (I’m trying to stick to a schedule, but uni has started again today so who knows).
Thank you all for your likes, reblogs and comments on the last post, I really appreciate them!
Also, as some of you might already know, I’ve been working on character sheets for all of them too. I’m working on the written backgrounds at the moment, but if all goes right I should post the first one next week! Who would you want to see first: Techno, Phil, Tommy or Wilbur?
[Also I should mention, there are a handful of swears, mentions of blood and a not-so-quick description of a dagger, but not as it’s being used for anything bad. Let me know if you’d like me to highlight anything specific to make it easier to skip.]
You should kneel down soon, kiddo. The voice in his head tells him. Usually one would not have voices suggesting what to do or do not, but that was the life of Tommy since he'd agreed to eat a bloody apple and suddenly gained horns and a tail. That was just something that happened to him nowadays. But again, one was not necessarily made to follow said suggestions: he usually either ignored whatever had been said or sassed back - that was just the kind of relationship he had with his patron.
I'm not a child, old man. He answered, in his mind in order to avoid Wilbur's curious glances, and only heard a distorted chuckle in response.
I'm just trying to help you out! You should, totally, profit is guaranteed! Tommy rolled his eyes, huffing out in annoyance at both his insistence and the warped voice he was currently talking in. Go figure that, of all the demons he could have made a pact with, Tommy had chosen the most annoyingly nagging one. Who even used their godlike power to change their voices to unnatural pitches?
Come on, Tommy! Trust me on this! Come oon! The dragged out "on" was extremely aggravating, but just because his patron was bored he wasn't going to amuse him. He had more important things to do, like planning out what to do once they'd reached the apparently haunted mansion in the middle of a forest they were heading towards. If one was to ask Tommy, he'd say that it was just the job of a bunch of thieves, maybe an enchanter, using the abandoned mansion as a base of operations and scaring away wandering people. Everyone had seemed to agree with his idea - hell, even Wilbur had said it had been a good hunch!
Five ... Four ... Didn't he have some other poor soul to torture? Some unlucky fellow to trick into a deal? And was the echoey voice necessary? Did he really need to sound as if he was shouting from inside a cave?
Come on kiddo- Three ... Two ... Almost there! One ...
"ALRIGHT!" Tommy yelled out, stomping his foot down in anger, flames bursting out his hands as his eyes flashed golden and - despite what his stubbornness told him - he bent down.
He hadn't even fully bent his knees when an arrow lodged itself into his hood, which was slightly raised in respect to his head due to the quickness with which he had moved.
"Ohshit-"
"Who the fuck is attacking us?" Techno asked over him, tone impassible and as monotone as always, holding another arrow just in front of his face; he seemed more bothered by the thought that someone was trying to attack them than the fact that somebody had shot an arrow at him.
You're welcome, kid. His patron quipped, finally in his normal voice, before retreating to the back of his mind as Tommy summoned energy between his hands, ready to blast into nothingness whoever had been dumb enough to try to kill him.
Tommy wakes up one morning, and the first thing he sees is the sky. This is because, since he agreed to sell his soul for instant magical powers, he has a distinctively cumbersome pair of horns, which prevent him from sleeping on his side comfortably. A small price to pay, since honestly, who even has the time to spend years studying when you can just shake hands, eat an apple and be set for life?
Since they've stopped being a couple of stubby nubs on the side of his head, he also has to wear a pair of muffs over them, in order to avoid destroying his pillow in case he moves more than an inch while he sleeps. He's gathered enough evidence of how much damage he's able to cause to last a lifetime, so he endures Techno's chuckles at his hand-knitted, sock-looking muffs - damn Wilbur for using wool, it's not like his horns ever get cold.
Anyhow. The first thing he sees, is the sky. The second thing he sees is a knife sticking out of the ground next to his head.
Tommy stares at it, figuring he's either still dreaming or his patron has gotten better at his dream-messages - on top of annoying him during the day and giving him advices once every blue moon, he also enjoys sending him extremely cryptic messages through dreams, which Tommy usually forgets by the time he's awake.
He figures it has to be a dream, because sticking out of the ground next to his head is a perfectly clean and sharpened Technoblade Dagger. Thin, sleek, made in a peculiar metal that looks completely black at all time, as if it was capable of absorbing light. Rumors say it was forged with the core of a fallen star; others say it's made of the blood of his fallen enemies which Tommy finds extremely disgusting and definitely unpractical. The handle is simple, with no added leather - Technoblade always says that leather stains easily and is more a bother than anything actually useful.
But the thing is, that's not all.
Tied to the knife is also a string of white, orange and red strings. A small onyx bead is woven inside.
Aww, look! You got yourself- the voice in his head starts, but Tommy is quick to put a stop to it.
Shut up, this is important. He states, tone firm and serious, just like he was when he demanded his pact a few years before. His patron and him joke around and annoy each other a lot, but he knows that tone, so for the next few moments everything is quiet. Around him, the only sound is of the wind, flowing through the leaves, and the crackling fire, courtesy of Phil, who is probably preparing breakfast for all if the delicious smell wafting over is any indication. Tommy hears everything and nothing around him, while all his attention is focused on 1) the token of friendship innocently sitting next to him 2) trying not to yell out at the pure joy he is feeling right now. This is approval. This is acceptance. This is the confirmation that he is, in all ways, part of this team.
I know, kid. I'm glad you found yourself some good friends.
Tommy huffs out a breath, unable to stop himself from smiling - he does not need his patron's approval, but it is still very much appreciated. The demon's helped him a lot, in his own weird demonic way.
The warlock snatches up both items and mutters an excuse as he quickly makes his way towards the river next to their camp.
The first thing he needs to do is find a good place to keep the bracelet.
The thing is, he can't keep it on his wrist. They get into too many nasty places, he is definitely *not* going to let it get soiled by dirt, blood or sewer water - Tommy also does not want to think about the sewers ever again, but that is a rather common and expected reaction. His ankle is also not a good choice, because of all the walking and trudging in the mud they do.
He's not going to keep it in his pack either, he want it close. He's sentimental about it, sue him.
Do not even start. He thinks intensely, anticipating what his patron could have said about his previous thought, but he gets no answer. Whatever. It's better that way.
His arm, he figures, could be the best choice. The bracelet seems to be long enough for him to be able to tie it around his upper arm, and that way his shirt would keep it covered constantly. Not to mention, his cloak also rests over that area. It would be safe and sound, and nobody would be none the wiser!
Tommy sits down by the river and starts working on it: he struggles a bit with actually tying the knot to keep it in place, but after a couple of minutes he's sure it will hold.
Then, satisfied with his work, he stands up and tries to throw the knife in the air and catch it. He does end up letting out a small yelp and letting it tumble to the ground, but he's sure he'll be able to pull it off in time.
"Technoblade!" He calls out loudly, coming back to the round space they decided to call a camp for a night. The thief doesn't even look up, but he does let out a questioning "hmm?" as his ears twitch up.
"Thank you for the wonderful gift! I'll use it wisely!" Tommy exclaims, pointing the dagger straight at his face. Techno turns towards him, nonplussed, and stares at him through the dagger. A moment passes, then Techno raises an eyebrow and moves the point of the blade away from his face with his index finger.
"Great. How about you start by remembering not to point it at allies?"
"Pfft, of course, of course! It was merely a display of how much I'm already able to use it! I bet I could even defeat you, now!" He declares, turning towards Phil's already ready breakfast and digging in, ignoring Techno's rebuttal of him needing to train for many more years in order to have a chance at defeating him, and most importantly Phil's amused and endeared expression.
The druid can read him too well: he already knows. For what Tommy knows, being an elf he probably has a way of seeing the bracelet under his sleeves from like, the way the material bends around it.
But as he scarfs down his food, he's already hatching a plan. Because while he wants to flaunt his newly gained social status, he does also want to keep this ... for himself. This isn't something he wants to share with the world. The fact that he went from being an annoyingly persistent kid to a friend of Technoblade is a personal success. It's just ... His.
What he can do, instead, is brag about having one of Technoblade's daggers. And what if he exaggerates a bit on how he got it? Who's going to correct him and say that it was actually just a mean to deliver to him a friendship bracelet?
Nobody, that's who.
Of course, he needs just one test to make sure it's going to work. It takes some time, but they eventually reach a small town. Wilbur takes care of securing a room for them all, and a discount in exchange for him performing.
Then, one late evening, they're waiting for their food to be delivered at their table, and Tommy is idly playing with Techno's dagger - he has now gotten extremely better at it, and can now not only flip it in air, but also balance it on the tip of his finger.
A bulky man with a coarse looking mustache brings them their dinner, and eyes Tommy as he keeps playing.
He meets his eyes, and his plan falls into place.
"Did you know, good sir, that this is one of the infamous Technoblade's daggers? My prize for besting him in a duel."
Next to him, Wilbur chokes on his beer and spits it all over his fresh loaf of bread. Phil is laughing as he pats his back, and the bartender eyes him suspiciously, apparently ticked off by his teammates's reactions.
"Is that right?"
"Absolutely! Isn't it, Techno?"
Everyone falls silent - except for Wil, who keeps coughing up beer for a while longer - and turns towards Techno, who seems startled at the sudden amount of eyes on him. This is it, the moment of truth. Everything comes down to what Techno answers now, because this could either be Tommy's best, most glorious moment, or a simply rather awkward instance. A moment passes, then-
"Absolutely." Techno's monotone voice answers, and the suspicion on the bartender's face changes to surprise, then impressed respect as he nods towards Tommy.
"Good job, kid." He says, then leaves their table, and Tommy couldn't be happier.
The game is on.
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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years
Text
Not Today XXXIII
A/N: And we're back?? With hopefully better more regular updates again??? So, I am apologising with some serious fluff at the end. Oopsies <3 And, without further ado, thank you for your patience and enjoy chapter thirty-three XD Skål!
Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.
Masterlist
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No rest came for Asta after that night, or at least, it didn’t come easily. Ivar couldn’t get out of her what she’d seen, not about anything. He’d convinced her to tell him she had seen something, convinced her to tell him each thing she’d seen- Hvitserk sick, Björn falling when she fought him that final time in Kattegat, but she wouldn’t tell him why she’d woken speaking of Lagertha.
Ivar was certain now, if of nothing else, that Asta was a Prophet. He just wished that she was a Prophet who could sleep some, as she’d barely done so since the night she’d woken. In fact, as they now sat around the table for another meal with Oleg, Katia, and Igor, she seemed to be starting to doze, and Ivar had to keep gently waking her.
They were currently having a conversation about how they’d entertain themselves through the winter, and Katia’s description of bathing in a hot spring had made Asta’s brows crease, looking up at her slowly. Katia was smirking at her, smirking at Ivar as well, and Asta decided right then and there that she just wanted to take Ivar back to their room and go to sleep. Forget any dreams she may have- that would be better than how awkward she felt just then.
“And you, dear Ivar?” Oleg asked. “The future King of all Scandinavia… what would you like?”
“I would like to walk,” Ivar replied, after a few long moments of thought. Oleg began to chuckle, and Asta narrowed her eyes at him.
“That would be a miracle,” he pointed out, as if laughing Ivar’s desires off. But Ivar didn’t laugh, not at all, and Asta began to wonder if he was going to get angry at Oleg.
“I’ve heard that your God performs miracles,” he began. “Jesus Christ raised a man from the dead. He made a lame man walk. He fed a thousand people with just a few loaves and fishes. I don’t think it’s too much to ask of Him to cure a simple cripple, is it?”
Clearly, Oleg was irritated. The idea made Asta smirk, in a way which mirrored Ivar’s own smirk. Irritating that man was now something which Asta thoroughly enjoyed.
“We will all pray for that miracle, Ivar the Boneless,” he said tensely. Asta smiled softly, taking Ivar’s hand under the table.
“We will,” Asta agreed, nodding, and Ivar turned to her with a small smile, before turning back to their host.
“What about you, Prince Oleg?” he questioned. “What is it that… amuses you?” He was silent for a moment, and then reiterated, “What is it that you really want?”
Once the question was asked, Ivar lifted his cup to drink from it, and Oleg replied, “As usual, I want the impossible. I want to go back into my mother’s womb. I want to float there, in that small, limitless universe, among the stars. With no beginning, no end. Waiting for the new world to begin.”
There was a far off look in his eye, and yet Asta still found herself opening her eyes wider, her brows lifting a bit as she took a sip of her drink. Impossible, indeed, she thought to herself. She turned to Ivar then, who looked almost like he might pity the man, and so her eyes turned to Katia, who seemed as if she were… not quite enthralled, by him, but she certainly listened intently. Ivar followed Asta’s gaze, and so Katia turned to look at them both, a strange smirk on her lips.
“I know we have all been here before,” Oleg continued on. “We’re constantly reborn. It’s what I believe.” He seemed to watch, then, the way his wife interacted with the Vikings at their table. Ivar looked away as Katia returned her attention to her husband, and Asta returned her attention to her drink. “Don’t you, Ivar?” he asked.
Katia looked back to Ivar, and it was then Asta became aware of what was happening here. Rebirth… Rebirth, like the face of one’s late wife, now being the face of a new ally’s wife. The statement was designed to draw attention to that once again. Her eyes narrowed a bit, as she heard Ivar thoughtfully answer, “Yes. That’s also what I believe.” He glanced back to Katia, a nearly anxious look in his eyes, and Katia smiled gently at him. The Shieldmaiden wished she could take him from the room, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk upsetting Oleg without due cause, not now that Dir was free, even if it meant letting Ivar continue to be subjected to this sort of mental torture.
“Well,” Asta said, hoping to interrupt this conversation and change it again. “Isn’t anybody going to ask what I’d like this winter?” Ivar chuckled a little at the pouty expression she wore, as if feeling a bit left out.
“My apologies, my Queen,” he said, inclining his head to her as if he were deferring to her authority. He even gave a little flourish with one of his hands, and earned a small giggle from the woman.
Asta turned back to him, and put a hand on his cheek affectionately. “I’d like to spend some time with my husband,” she began, “perhaps having a drink in front of a warm hearth, enjoying his presence with me here. I count it a blessing every day that we are here together, and this winter, I want to be sure I don’t take that for granted.”
Ivar smiled softly at her, and covered her hand with his own. He pulled it away from his cheek so that he could kiss the back of it, before turning it and lacing his fingers with her own. “I think I would like that as well,” he said. “If my legs will not be healed, then I should like to spend some time with my wife, being grateful for the fact she remains at my side, even after all we have been through together.”
She gave his hand a small squeeze, and her free hand lifted to cup his cheek once more. “Then we will,” she promised him. And, whether he knew it or not, her want for that winter served more than one purpose. Of course, she meant all she said, about wanting to spend time with him, and not taking it for granted, but at the same time, she sent a message to Oleg and Katia, who she could still sense trying to mess with Ivar. She wasn’t going to stand by while this happened, and in fact, intended to actively stand in the way. Whatever they thought about that, she didn’t care. All Asta cared about, was that she was there for Ivar, and kept them from hurting him any more than he’d already been hurt.
Fortunately, the rest of the night passed without incident, and the next day Asta and Ivar found theirselves standing up above the market of Kiev, watching as Igor skated around on the ice beneath them, just as he’d said he wanted to do. The people around them cheered the young prince on, and Asta and Ivar were no exception. However, a man soon approached them, and stopped to stand on Ivar’s right, where Asta stood to his left. Neither of the Vikings acknowledged him, but he still spoke.
“I have a message for you, Ivar the Boneless, and Asta the Prophet,” he began, and finally earned their attention. “Prince Dir sends you greetings. He is safe, well, and restored. But for the time being, still in hiding.” The two looked back toward Igor, ensuring it couldn’t be noticed, not easily, that they had just been talking to the man who’d approached them. “However,” he continued. “He hopes that one day he will be strong enough to help you achieve your ambition… which, is also his ambition.”
Cheers and applause went up as Igor finished his skating, and stopped to bow as if having just finished an elaborate performance. Ivar and Asta, as well as their apparent visitor, joined the crowd in congratulating the Prince on not falling over, though the former two wore proud smiles on their faces. While the crowd was thoroughly distracted, the messenger sat a small, metallic object down on the banister on which Ivar leaned, a brief motion before clapping again as well.
“He sends you this cross, by which you will know him, and is a token of his enduring friendship,” he explained, and Ivar casually sat a hand down over it, as if just balancing himself. He picked up his crutch as well, in time for the messenger to say, “Now, I must leave. Please do not turn or watch me go.”
They did as asked, and the man left their side just as quickly as he had come to it. A thoughtful expression took Ivar’s face as he left, and he shared a look with Asta. Things were in motion still, it seemed, and they’d certainly have much to discuss that evening. Ivar turned then to lift his hand, looking down at the cross which had been left by Dir’s messenger. It looked quite different from the crosses Asta was used to seeing in Wessex, having two bars across the top as opposed to the one, and a diagonal bar across the longer section of the bottom. She figured, to represent the sign held above Christ’s head, and to represent the place His feet were nailed to the cross.
So caught up in what had happened as they were, they barely noticed as Igor approached them, and asked, “Who was that?”
“He didn’t tell me his name,” Ivar answered him honestly. “But, he told me that Prince Dir is safe,” he paused to uncover the cross for Igor to see it, “and that he is prepared to help us when the time has come.”
Igor nodded and looked up and out, saying, “Then he is an angel sent from God.”
Ivar made a face as if considering what Igor said, and he smiled a bit as he replied, “You’re right. An angel sent from the gods.”
Asta smiled as that conversation naturally reached its conclusion, and she moved around Ivar to go and hug Igor tightly. “And you, Igor, skated just like a little angel yourself!” she complimented him, and he grinned up at her.
“Do you really think so?” he asked happily, which earned a nod from her.
“I know so,” she answered with a smile. “You were so smooth out there! Perhaps you could teach me, hm? Though I may be too old to learn…”
She started to walk with him back to the Palace, and Ivar stood behind them and watched them go. He could hear Igor laughing, and telling her she wasn’t old, and certainly she wasn’t as old as Oleg, which made her laugh as well.
A small smile formed on his lips as he watched this, and watched them, before finally following along after them. Not that he figured he’d catch up now, but he didn’t mind. It was nice to sit back and watch the two interact, really. Asta, though still young, seemed to have a very natural way with children, and it occurred to him that he was thinking of this for the second time about her- ironically, it was also the second time he’d really just watched her with Igor.
She even walked with an arm around the boy’s shoulders, a move that seemed both protective and affectionate all at once. But, he noticed that they really did look like mother and son as they walked along, and it occurred to him once more that he rather liked the idea of them being his family, now. It wasn’t a difficult fantasy to entertain, as often as they spent time together in the ways a family would. And, truth be told, he didn’t find it a harmful fantasy in the slightest. In fact, it even seemed to warm him from the inside out- a hard thing to do in the cold Rus climate.
Once Igor had been returned to his chambers, Asta and Ivar had said goodbye to him and returned to their own, which felt a bit colder to them now as the winter wore on. Asta, ever one to take up an opportunity, smirked and said to Ivar, “I think I’m going to have a servant come and light our hearth, perhaps bring us something to drink. What do you think of that?”
Ivar chuckled a bit at the suggestion, remembering the previous night at dinner. “You want to make your winter wish come true tonight, do you?” he asked her teasingly. “I think it is a fine idea, though, you are lacking a husband to sit with, are you not?”
Asta giggled a little and walked closer to him cupping his cheek and answering, “What need do I have of a husband when I have you, dear Ivar?” She gave his cheek a quick kiss, and then went to the door to pop out and begin her search for a servant.
Perhaps dangerously, Ivar found himself considering, quite seriously, the idea of really making her his wife, making himself her husband. The idea of entering another marriage unsettled him, as horribly as the last one had gone, and he was comfortable with Asta, the way they were. Yes, they flirted, far more than was needed for the story they sold to Oleg and Katia, and every other person there in Kievan Rus’, and he felt nearly certain that what they shared was something real.
But what damage could he do by giving voice to it, by truly setting the idea before her? He would be putting his heart at her feet, he knew that, and the last time he’d given his heart away, it had been handed back to him crushed, if not tossed back down at his feet. Was he ready to risk such a thing again, to risk Asta rejecting him, for whatever reason, and perhaps leaving him alone, pulling away? He thought it must have been better to have what he did with her, than to ask for more, and lose it all.
His time to debate this ran out as Asta soon returned with a servant, one who came into their chambers and immediately began to tend to their hearth, lighting it and coaxing the flame into a full, warm fire by which they could sit and warm themselves. The servant left once it was ready, to go and fetch them some drinks, and Asta hauled one of the many furs off the bed and dragged it over to the hearth, sitting down under it as Ivar eased himself down beside her.
At first, when she offered him the blanket, he had declined and said he wasn’t all too cold. A quip had been made about Saxons, and how less prepared they were for such cold temperatures, but by the time drinks had been brought to them, and they’d had one or two, he found his shoulder pressed up to hers beneath the blanket. It was far more comfortable than trying to weather the cold alone.
And, that applied to his current dilemma with her, too, didn’t it? Perhaps it was the slight buzz he felt, the alcohol in his blood which loosened his lips, or perhaps he’d truly just made up his mind that he didn’t want to let the possibility fade away, too comfortable with what he had to possibly gain something better. It didn’t really matter, he didn’t guess, because he still opened his mouth, and still asked, “Asta?”
She turned to him with a quiet, “Hm?” not even seeming to be upset that he’d cut her off. He figured that was a good thing, given he wanted her happy when he put his question to her. But oh, how to ask this? How to even begin?
“What do you think you will do when all this is over, hm?” he settled on, tilting his head just a bit. She gave a thoughtful hum, and turned to look at the fire in front of him. 
After a few moments debating, she turned back and asked him, “What will you do?”
“That was not the question,” he answered with a chuckle. “I want to know what you want after this.”
She sighed and returned her gaze to the fire, the flames lighting up her face with their red glow, and reflecting in her eyes. “I’m not sure,” she confessed. “Part of me wishes to return to Wessex, and visit my brother. But at the same time… I’m not certain I’d be very welcome there anymore.”
Ivar’s brows creased together some as he asked, “Why would you not be welcome there now?”
“I’ve made quite a name for myself as your Queen, don’t you think? No doubt he’s been told that I’m with you, as opposed to in Kattegat with your brothers. If word has travelled to Kattegat of what I’m called here, then word may reach him, and I don’t know that he’d want to receive me now. Not to mention, we live together as though we’re husband and wife, without being… They’re liable to condemn me as an apostate.”
Asta chuckled, but Ivar could tell it lacked all humor. She was anxious, nervous about what her life since she’d left Wessex might have done to the relationship she had with her final living relative. He could sort of relate to that, having lost all his brothers either to death or simply falling out. His hand moved to rest on her leg, meant to be a comforting gesture, and Asta smiled and covered his hand with her own, taking it. Now, he thought. Now is the time.
“We could… always change that, you know,” he began. 
Asta’s brows creased as she turned to him and asked, “Change what?”
He swallowed. “You say it would offend your people, and possibly drive a wedge between yourself and your brother, if it was discovered that we lived together as though we were married, when we are not,” he said. “But we could…” Her face fell, and something cold seized his heart.
“Ivar,” she said. “No, I don’t mean to say that I want to stop. Believe me, I don’t… I don’t know how I’d go back to life before this. Being with you like this, it’s good. It makes me happy. I never felt alone before, but I know now that if I lost this, I would. I’d rather they mistake me for an apostate than lose this.”
Ivar shook his head, and turned to face her more, reaching across so he could take both her hands in his. “Asta, that is not my meaning. My meaning is that, we could change how they would see us living together this way.” Her eyes widened a bit as she seemed to realise where he was leading with this, and her lips parted slightly.
“Ivar…” she managed, but he held her hands a little tighter, and pushed through.
“Asta, if we were married, they would have no way to criticise the way we behave. And nothing would have to change. We live as husband and wife as it is, and we tell all we encounter here that we are. Why should we not be?” he questioned. “Asta, marry me.”
Her hands tightened in his, and he could see a thousand thoughts running behind her eyes, almost as if she were trying to calculate if this could work. Eventually, she managed to say, “You realize I never want to marry a second time, yes? So if I say yes right now, and we do it…”
She was considering it. Somehow, he’d not believed he would even get this far with it, and yet she was actually considering the possibility.
“I can’t lose you,” she finished. “I know I’ve said so before, but I mean it more so than ever if I agree to this. If we were wed, I could not stand to lose you. I don’t want you to offer this just to save my dignity before my brother and the people of Wessex. I may already be outcasted enough for having become, essentially, Viking. So if you’re only doing this for that reason, and don’t truly want to be my husband… Please, say so now, and we’ll leave it be.”
Ivar shook his head. “We would have to wait until all is done here, as to marry now would reveal we have not been married all along, and it would ruin the little trust we have with Oleg. But when this is done, before we return to Wessex, we could be married.”
Asta smiled at him, in such a way as she seemed about to say yes, but then her face fell, and she sighed. “You can’t know how badly I wish to say yes right now,” she confessed. “I want to say yes, to marry you somewhere between Rus and Wessex, and to truly become your Queen. But if we are honest, do we think Alfred will approve of this? I may have all but given up my titles, but that’s here. In Wessex, they will still expect me to uphold those traditions. You would be expected to ask Alfred to wed me, as no other relatives of mine still live.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes a bit. “You are a Viking Queen,” he said. “Why should you need the permission of a Saxon King to marry, huh?”
Asta gave a small chuckle and shook her head. “I’m not a Viking Queen,” she reminded him. “It’s a story we fabricated to protect us, or have you forgotten?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Ivar said, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. “You are my Queen, and when we take Kattegat back from my brothers, I want you to be Kattegat’s Queen, too.”
Asta swallowed, and for a moment, she allowed herself to indulge in a world where she could simply say yes. So, she smiled, covered his hand with hers, and leaned slightly toward him. It came as no shock to her when Ivar leaned in fully, and captured her lips with his.
For the night, Asta decided, she would believe she could be whatever she wished, and she would let herself believe that she could be his.
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rwbyvein · 3 years
Text
Firen Lhain:  Chapter 803:  Échecs:  Part III/III
Yang eagerly followed Ren and Nora down the stairs, Blake with a cheshire grin following them.
* * *
They walked into the library. "Oh, Remnant!" Yang exclaimed, "You're on, Sis!"
"Me and Blake are going to kick your ass!" Ruby replied.
* * *
Aurora arrived with a large carafe of coffee and a platter with several cups.
"So, who called the Little Bit?" Yang asked.
"Called her?" Weiss asked, "I don't believe I've ever called her."
"She simply comes out of the mists." Blake quiped.
"With coffee." Ren said, looked Aurora in the eyes, and nodded.
"If you are going to bring us coffee?" Ruby asked, "Could you?.."
"Cookies are already in the oven." Aurora said with a smile.
"Man, what did we do to deserve her?" Yang asked, causing Aurora to blush, though hard to see through her treefrog colouration.
Weiss moved over to sit on Jaune's lap.
"Hey!" Ruby exclaimed, and Weiss simply stuck out her tongue.
"Did she just do that?!" Yang asked.
"Perhaps my wives are rubbing off on me?" Weiss asked.
* * *
Jaune moved a single piece and then ended his turn. "Is that it?" Weiss asked.
"The first few turns are about building your army." Jaune replied. "You don't want to get too spread out?"
"What happens?" Weiss asked.
"Well, for one, Grimm can attack. And units too far away from the kingdom risk running out of supplies. It lowers your morale."
"I would say it would." Weiss quipped.
"Your morale is how strong your units are." Blake said, while Ruby and Yang were glaring at each other.
"This is why," Jaune added, "the game often takes hours."
"Hours?" Weiss asked, "But, our game..."
Jaune kissed her on the cheek. "You didn't know what you were doing, and let Yang lure you into a trap."
"With her Nevermore." Weiss stated. "Wait, does that mean you can control Grimm?"
"Ehn." Jaune stated.
"Since you got Ladykiller," Yang stated, "you probably won't be so easy this time, I guess I can be honest. The Grimm cards are traps."
"Forced encounters." Ren stated.
"And they all have a chance of backfiring." Yang continued.
"I believe," Ren voiced and paused for a moment, "it represents luring your enemy into a group of Grimm."
"I suppose that makes sense." Weiss stated, "Well, what about Ruby and Blake?"
"Blake wasn't paying attention." Jaune said, "And Yang is too used to fighting Ruby, so she knew how to counter her."
"Is that what happened?!" Ruby asked Yang.
"Shakin' in your little booties, Sis?" Yang asked.
Ruby put her right boot up on the table. "Suck it."
"Only if you win." Yang shouted.
"Seriously?" Weiss asked.
"Okay?" Yang replied, "Maybe I'll lick it, how about that."
"You're on, right Blake?" Ruby asked.
"What do you plan to lick in return?" she asked.
"Hm?" Ruby asked her, and then looked at Yang,
"If I win, you can do what you want with my hair."
Ruby and Yang reached across and shook.
* * *
Emerald paced across the common room in the turret. "If you can't even go inside, how can you possibly get him to trust you?"
"By sucking his cock?" Mercury asked, causing Emerald to scoff.
"You would suggest that."
"I'm actually hoping she doesn't." Mercury added.
"Well, for one, he's not neutral, he actively doesn't trust me." Cinder stated, "For two, he already has plenty of girls on his list."
"None of them can hold a candle to you." Emerald soulfully said to Cinder. Cinder in reply reached out to craddle her face.
"Unfortunatlely, he doesn't agree with you."
"But." Emerald tried to say.
"This is his house, literally." Cinder said. "While we're not allowed into the house, we are allowed?.."
"What?" Mercury asked, "In that mess they call a garden?"
"Bingo." Cinder delightfully stated. "He might not trust me, but he does believe me, and that's a start."
Mercury glared at Emerald, "Which means that any of your bullshit and we lose everything we've gained."
"My bullshit?" Emerald asked.
"Petty theft," Cinder stated, "and your Semblance."
"But?.." a wounded Emerald asked her.
"But, my dear, they are the opposite of trust."
"But... before?.." Emerald asked.
"I recruited you because of your useful abilities." Cinder simply stated, "I'm keeping you because... you both are dear to me."
* * *
Raven walked into the basement to see Qrow and Taiyang.
"Hey, Rae?," Qrow asked her, "did you talk to the kids?"
"Why would I do that?" Raven asked.
"Just admit you're a big softy," Taiyang stated, "and didn't want to interupt their game."
Raven huffed as she walked over. She nervously leaned down to kiss Taiyang on the lips, before looking over at the cell. "Just so you know, I'm the Spring Maiden. If you try to break out of here, you'll have two Maidens to face off against."
Neo used her hand to mimic annoying chatter, causing Raven to glare at her, and the boys to start giggling.
Qrow and Taiyang stood up. "See you, Rae." Qrow stated. Taiyang dipped her to give her a passionate kiss, and the two walked off. Raven struggled to regain her semblance of authority. She looked at Neo, whom was smirking at her widely.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" Raven asked, and Neo looked about her cell. She then looked back at Raven and shrugged.
* * *
Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury were standing in the garden. "It's been all day!" Emerald exclaimed, "Where are they?!"
"We are losing the light." Mercury stated.
"We'll have to try again tomorrow." Cinder voiced.
* * *
Weiss let out a disappointed sigh. "Sorry." Jaune stated, "This is my first time ever playing as Vale, so I honestly don't know what I'm doing."
Weiss gave him a peck on he cheek. "You certainly know far more than I do."
Ruby and Yang aggressively glared at each other while Blake moved pieces on the board. Yang looked back at the board. "Wait, what?"
"You're going down, Sis." Ruby said to her, "That's what."
"I do believe it's our turn." Ren stated.
* * *
Aurora and Taiyang placed blankets on the kids whom had all passed out on the table.
"Shouldn't you be getting to sleep, too?" Taiyang asked her.
"I am my mistress' personal assistant." Aurora replied, "It's my job to assist her with everything she does."
"Everything?" Taiyang asked.
"Everything." Aurora nodded.
"Even?.." Taiyang tried to ask.
"If she asked me to, yes." Aurora replied.
* * *
Yang started to rouse, slowly pulling herself up from the table, looking around. Ruby and Blake were cuddled together over the table. Ren and Nora were cuddled together over the table. Jaune was somehow laying on the table, sleeping, but still holding himself from crushing Weiss. How the hell could she be so elegant in such a strange position?
She looked around the room and saw someone sleeping on a couch. It was Aurora, who seemed to know when Yang had awoken and was looking her in her eyes. Yang tiredly waved at her. She slowly stumbled to her feet. She groped around, managing to pull the blanket over her shoulders and shuffled over to the couches. She slumped down onto one of them. Breathing for a moment as her thoughts returned to her. "Okay," Yang whispered, "I know you're like really into this assistant thing, but you don't need to be like, sleeping on the couch here if we need you."
"I'm more comfortable than you guys are." Aurora whispered in reply. "Besides, I started with nothing. Everything I made that wasn't putting food in my belly was developing the skills I would need to join the corporate elite. It didn't matter how good my skills were on paper, though."
"Why not?" Yang groaned.
"The moment they saw my face." Aurora stated. "I wasn't lucky like Blake, who could hide her Faunus nature with a bow, or like my mistress, who had the resources of one of the most powerful families on Remnant. Whenever they saw my face, they knew exactly who I was. I got good at seeing through the token effort they went to pretend like it was an interview. I actually thought that my mistress was one of them."
"But?.." Yang asked.
"Until I held the contract in my hands." Aurora stated, "I still didn't believe it. It was a pretty standard, ironclad, no wiggle room contract, except for one thing."
"Hm?" Yang asked, huddled under her blanket.
"Termination clause. On a one year contract, being paid several years salary upon termination is... actually understandable for an executive... except..."
"Except?" Yang asked.
"My face." Aurora simply stated.
"They would never give it to a Faunus?" Yang asked, and Aurora subtely nodded before sitting up. She slipped from the couch, adjusted her clothing, and walked over to Yang.
"Relax your weary head." Aurora stated, and guided Yang's head to a pillow she did not know was there. Aurora adjusted Yang's blanket, adjusted her beautiful hair. "Sleep tight."
"Mmm." Yang positively moaned.
* * *
Yang woke up with Blake laying on her. Blake looked up in her eyes and smiled, making no movement to get up. Yang looked over to see Aurora's couch empty, except for a folded blanket. She found Ren and Nora together, along with Ruby and Weiss sleeping on Jaune's massive chest.
"Does anyone remember?.." Yang tried to ask,
"Little Bit left you a note." Blake stated, and passed her the note.
Yang read the note, 'It's your turn, Yang. Breakfast will be ready by 0700.'
"Oh, shit, the game's still on." Yang said, and sat up.
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obeyme-sinners · 4 years
Text
Love languages with the boys (pt 3)
And finally, we have come to the undateables... not gonna lie, these were a struggle for me since we don’t see as much of them in the game, but I did my best based on what I’ve seen and what my own headcanons are for them! We got Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon here!
(I swear that someday I’ll stop writing in the time past midnight, but tonight is not that night)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Diavolo
Receiving
All he wants~ is your time~ and your touch~ like seriously, he will actually melt whenever you show up out of the blue to hang out with him. He’ll make the time to make sure that you two are undisturbed, and he’ll love to just sit around and listen to you talk as he plays with your hair. Or he’ll help you out with homework but you’ll have to keep him from just telling you the answers so that you’ll have some more leisure time with him... you’ll probably have to talk him out of moving you to the castle so you won’t have to make the walk from the House of Lamentation and back so often.
Second tier stuff is gifts and words of affirmation. He’s generally not a huge person for gifts, because people will just buy him like, whatever is super expensive or flashy. But if you give him something personal, like something that means something to you, or something that you made yourself?? He will treasure it for the rest of time, seriously. And really, he’s generally pretty confident... but for the few times where he starts feeling really stressed about all his goals and dreams, nothing will help him feel better like you do when you just give him some encouragement and help him work through his thoughts on the matter.
His bottom thing is acts of service. He just... doesn’t entirely see the point of it, when he has a legion of servants (and, uh, Barbatos) to help him out. It’s nothing you need to worry about, really! Everything that needs to be is covered, and the small mountain of paperwork is really just... something that needs his signature, so he has to do that stuff on his own (unless he decides to give Lucifer some of the pile, but he doesn’t entirely like having to do so)
Giving
Honestly, this guy just wants to have you around him all the time. And he wants you as close as he can get you... at all times. Because honestly to him there’s no way to show your affection like being able to hold the object of your affection. Like, as the honorary ruler of the Devildom (honestly at this point he might as well be crowned King with how long his father has been sleeping) he can do whatever the hell he want - and if he wants you in his lap, you’re gonna be there. At least, as long as you’re alright with it. He draws the line at forcing you into anything, because honestly it’s no fun if you’re not willing. But during meetings, while he’s working on paperwork, even sometimes during meals, he’ll have you in his lap and will continue working smoothly around you. He’s talented like that. And kind of an add on to this - gifting. His gifting is ridiculous when he really gets invested. He will shower you in everything you could ever want, and just add on a uhhhhh fat stack of cash on top of that just in case there’s something that you want that he somehow missed.
After all that, his lesser language is words of affirmation. He’s pretty good with his words, but sometimes after long days of meetings and speeches and working out school events and administration issues and whatever concerns teachers or students might have brought up... he just wants to chill out and stop talking for a while. He’d rather just hold you close and snuggle up to you. But when he does start talking, watch out because he will make you turn as red as his hair with his silver tongue. Also probably one of the best people ever to talk you out of emotional ruts, if you need it.
Lastly, once more, his bottom language is acts of service - unless sending someone else to help you out counts? He’s lived as royalty all his life, he’s used to getting minor things taken care of at the wave of a hand. Anything that really requires him in particular is usually more for necessity than anything, so he doesn’t really see it as an affection thing.
Barbatos
Receiving
With this guy, be prepared - any time he may or may not get away from serving Diavolo (or anyone else, for that matter) that happens to line up with your free time is going to be monopolized by him. He’s always working, but he craves to spend what time he has with you, and it grates at him when he can’t. But when you show up at the castle just before dinner and meet him in the kitchen while he cooks for Diavolo and his guests, he can’t help the smile that finds him. He’ll probably be smiling all the way through his time as he gets to talk to you and hear about your day. Along with that, he’s an absolute sucker for praise and though he might not show it, little reassurances that his service and his efforts are appreciated and not so taken for granted will really lift his spirits.
After that, his next languages are touch and acts of service. He enjoys the little ways that you show your affection, with little brushes of your hands against him or a quick hug given as a hello or goodbye, it’ll always leave him craving a little more and thinking back on it while he works. And really, if you even just offer to take on some little task for him, it is always deeply appreciated, though depending on what it is he may... or may not end up wanting to watch over you and help you through it.
His bottom is gifts! He loves getting little baubles and trinkets from you, but they really aren’t necessary to him. He’ll still thank you for each one and make sure to keep them on his shelves or something so he can see them when he’s getting ready for the day and start it off with a smile.
Giving
Maybe at this point it’s kind of ingrained in him or maybe it’s the thing that he knows that he can do best - but his top love language is acts of service. He just like... automatically finds himself falling into habits around you so that he can help you along with anything that you might need, though he’s much less formal with you than he usually is when with company. You can definitely tell that he’s doing it for you and not because he’s being told to by a superior. Also with that, gifting! Be ready to find little tokens of his appreciation in the places where you’re usually sitting or hanging out. Dried flowers, crystals and gemstones, rings or necklaces or other little pieces of jewelry that aren’t too conspicuous - he’ll leave them when he passes by wherever he knows you will be later, even if it’s as little as a few minutes later. No one dares touch said gifts for fear of him coming after them. 
This is where quality time and words of affirmation comes in for him~ as said earlier, when he knows that you both have some free time that lines up well, he’ll be there to hang out for as long as possible. And if you’re feeling down, he’ll do his best to get Diavolo to release him from his daily duties early (not too hard, though Dia is always reluctant to go without his cooking at dinner) so that he can head over and comfort you. He’s rather elegant with his words when he wants to be, and boy can he flirt, even - and especially - when he’s giving sincere compliments. Anything that he says you can take as truth, because honestly? He wouldn’t lie to you, and you can trust him with that at least.
His bottom language is touch. Though he does always want a little more from you, he’s kind of taught himself out of really needing it with his frightfully busy schedule - he’ll take it wherever he can get it, though.
Solomon
Receiving
For Solomon, his top languages are words of affirmation and time. He really just... likes to know that he is actually hot shit to someone (he’s not particularly self-conscious but when you’re constantly surrounded by incredibly powerful magical beings that would swat you like a gnat... it does shit to your perspective) and even if it isn’t about his magic! He loves to know that he really is someone that you care about! And really he just loves hanging around you - he spends a lot of time simply observing the world around him, and if you were to join him in doing so, he would thoroughly enjoy that (though it might turn into the two of you shit-talking others at some point. He’ll have you cackling along with him in no time when that happens)
Next up for him is physical touch and gifts. He loves getting little things from you, and most of the time he’ll be able to put whatever you give him to work in some form or another - using them to assist in his magic, potion-making, and whatever day-to-day things that he’ll find to use your gifts for. And, but for the times where he’s working his magic, he’ll love having your arm around him or having your fingers intertwined with his own while you’re sitting in class together.
For our magical lad, his bottom language is acts of service. He’ll appreciate it if you offer to help, but he generally prefers to do things himself.
Giving
First up, his top languages when he’s showing his love and appreciation for you is going to be words of affirmation and touch. Like, be prepared for him to be leaning close to you to whisper in your ear whatever compliments come to mind - they mind end up being a little... off the wall, and more than a little random, but they’ll usually get you to laugh along with him (probably while also getting you to blush). And he’ll also just want to have you wrapped around him at all times when he has the time for it. He loves having you in his lap, especially if you’re the right height for him to set his head on your head/shoulder. Top tier headrest right there.
Next up is gifts and quality time. He’ll probably show up to whatever dates you go on with some sort of magical item for you to have (or for you two to experiment with 030) and really... prepare to gather quite the collection of various magical items and potions. He’ll make sure to label everything with the appropriate usages and warnings so you know everything you need to about whatever he gives you~ and again, he really just likes spending time with you, watching people as they pass and snickering to you about how bad their outfits are. Shit talking king.
Once again, his bottom is acts of service... unless you consider the processes of making all the stuff he gives you acts of service, lol. He just thinks that there are better ways for him to show you his appreciation.
Simeon
Receiving
Wooo, finally to the precious angel~ now Simeon’s top love languages are gifts and acts of service, though really he’s not incredibly picky with any sort of love language you might use with him. He feels so incredibly happy when he gets something from you, whether it be something as simple as a cool rock you found or something that you made, or something that you spent money on for him - he will love each and every thing you give him. He just finds the things you give him so interesting, with the way you react to them. Each little thing is something for him to learn something about you through, and he couldn’t be happier because of that. And really, he feels especially appreciated when you put in the effort to help him with whatever he may be struggling with - you’re spending more energy than you should have to, just because you care about him.
After that, it’s touch and time (a popular pair, let’s face it). He adores spending his time with you, and he loves being able to even just hold your hand as the two of you walk around the Devildom. He’ll have his arms wrapped around your shoulders/waist with his head resting on top of you if possible while you’re standing together, eyes closed as he just takes in your warmth and your presence. And he especially loves movie nights, where he knows he can get comfortable for long periods of time with prolonged contact with you.
For him, his bottom one is words of affirmation - call it an angel thing, but he tends to just... already know what you’re trying to convey. He already knows for certain just how much you care for him, it’s obvious in all the other ways you show your affection for him.
Giving
When Simeon is the one that is showing his appreciation for you, his top languages are acts of service and words of affirmation! He’ll end up running little errands for you if he notices that you’re feeling overwhelmed, or if he just wants to be nice and lighten your burden just a little bit. And when he tells you of his affection for you, it will most often come in the form of little love notes. He most often will find proper cards to write on, but he’s not so picky that he won’t tear off a corner of a notebook page and pass you notes in class. Simeon has the most floral and sappy way of writing, too... so much pretty prose to describe just how deep his affection runs.
Next up isssss guess what, quality time and physical touch. Again, he just wants to be close to you - you’re so interesting, as a human and as someone who also just kind of got dumped into the Devildom. Based on the fact that you didn’t have any warning, he thinks that the way that you adapted to life there is simply incredible and he’s always wanting to find out more about you, in all the ways he can.
His last language is gifts - but as I mentioned earlier, he’s going pretty strong in all of these! He’ll still make little trinkets for you to fiddle with, bookmarks, little pieces of art or things that he thinks you could use. Really, he’s very thoughtful and will probably spend ample time making sure he’s got a handle on your personal style before he goes out of his way to give you anything.
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3. Breaking the Ice
Part 3 of 4 of the Winter Storm Warning Series
Summary: After the resounding defeat of your foes at the ruins of the Hoth base, you and Poe realize that with the snowstorm raging outside, you're trapped inside the base. You're not looking forward to what comes after, but maybe it won't be as bad as you thought it would be.
Notes: And now comes the fluff! If you haven’t caught them: Chapter 1 is here, Chapter 2 is here, and Chapter 4 is here! There's only one more chapter left, and more than likely, there's gonna be smut (which I know is what the people really want; there’s been practically no one that’s read this so far, but I’m hoping that changes once the smut gets posted). Anyway, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you like this one! (use of she/her pronouns in future chapters, no y/n)
Warnings: the “there was only one bed” trope, but that’s it lol
WC: 1.9k
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Because of your injury (and his guilty conscience, you believed), Poe decided he would scope out the base for a decent place to shack up for the night. A lot of the base was still collapsed in on itself, so there was a possibility that there were no bedrooms or refreshers for the two of you to use. In the meantime, you were attempting to get back in contact with the general to tell her that you were stuck. Unfortunately for you, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get a signal to go through. If only the rebel base was a little bit closer. You huffed, frustrated, but you kept going; it was the only thing you could do to be helpful right now since Poe refused to let you do anything else. It was just a broken nose, so you could walk around, but he said that he didn’t want there to be a chance that you would aggravate your injury. It kind of pissed you off that he wasn’t letting you do anything, but on the same token, you understood that it was just a desire to help you.  
After yet another unsuccessful attempt, Poe returned.
Upon seeing your frustrated expression, he asked, “No luck?”
“No,” you grumbled, “the storm is too strong, I can’t get anything to go through. You have any good news?”
“A mixture of good and bad. Good news is I found somewhere we can sleep,” his expression then grew sheepish, “the bad news is, uh...”
You quirked up your eyebrow, “What?”
“There’s uh, there’s only one room that’s not collapsed. And, there’s only one bed.”
“Oh.”
You didn’t quite know what to do. You definitely didn’t want to sleep with Poe, but the bed was really the only comfortable option. You back already hurt just from sleeping against the wall for that short burst of time. But you knew that that would probably be the better option.
“You can have it. The wall is shockingly comfortable,” you joked.
“Absolutely not. It’s yours,” he rebutted.
“I’m already sitting here anyway. I’m chill with staying here,” you said, snickering slightly.
He rolled his eyes, “That was a terrible pun. But in all seriousness, you’re taking the room.”
“Nope.”
“You are. One, you’re injured. Two, it’s my fault we’re here in the first place. It’s only fair.”
“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”
The question seemed to throw him off guard, “Don’t you want me to be nice to you? I can go back to being a dick, if that’s what you prefer.”
“No, I definitely prefer you this way. I just want to know why. Especially because it was so sudden.”
“I thought it would be obvious,” he replied, “you suffered because of me, so I’m making it up to you.”
“And even after you’ve made it up to me, will you continue to be nice to me? Or will you go back to having an unfounded superiority complex?” you asked.
He scratched his head sheepishly, “Well, I am a better pilot than you. But yeah, I’ll play nice as long as you do.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling, “Clearly, I’m the better pilot, since I was able to land in the middle of a snowstorm. But I wouldn’t mind being friends. It’s better than what we have going on now.”
“The landing was really good,” he complimented, making your smile grow a little wider.
“So, friends?” you questioned, holding out your hand.
He grinned, taking your hand and shaking it, “Friends.”
When you let go of his hand, you said, “And as your friend, I will be forcing you to take the room.”
“Like hell you are,” he shot back, scooping you into his arms.
“Poe!” you shrieked, “what are you doing?! Put me down!”
“Giving you the bed, Admiral,” he teased, “you’re injured, you need to rest up.”
“It’s just my nose, Dameron. It’s not like I’m gonna die.”
“You’re still getting the bed,” he stubbornly replied.
You huffed and allowed him to carry you to the small room. He gently deposited you onto the bed and straightened back up with a triumphant grin on his face.
“Oh, stop,” you groaned, smacking him in the arm.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, rubbing the injured area, “I’m giving you a gift, and this is how you repay me?”
“Yup.”
Then, you realized that while you were talking, you could see your breath in front of your face. In the hustle and bustle of the day, you forgot just how cold it was in the base.
“It’s fucking freezing in here,” you muttered, “there’s gotta be some kind of heating system.”
“Oh,” Poe said, “that was the other bit of bad news. I did find the heater, but it’s trapped under heavy debris, too much for both of us to move together. It’s super broken. We’ll be stuck here with no heat.”
“In that case, I sure hope that we can find some blankets,” you replied.
“I’ll take a look around, but I can’t guarantee anything.”
“Okay. I’ll try to get in contact with the general again, just in case.”
“Good luck.”
Poe exited the room, leaving you alone. You got your holo back out and attempted to contact the base once more, but once again, there was no response. Then, it struck you. Rey and Finn were on a mission on the nearby moon of Jhas Krill. Maybe if you were able to contact them, you’d be able to get them to relay the message to General Organa! Despite the blizzard, you were hoping that since the distance to Jhas Krill wasn’t very far, you’d be able to get through to them. The only thing left to do was try. You contacted Rey, and were rewarded when both her and Finn’s figures appeared on the holo.
“Rey, Finn! Am I glad to see you! There’s a really bad blizzard on Hoth, and I can’t get in contact with the general. Are you able to tell her that we won’t be able to be back until the storm clears up, until at least tomorrow?”
“Hey, Admiral! Of course we can,” Rey replied with a smile.
“Yeah, they’ll be back tomorrow if they don’t kill each other first,” joked Finn.
You rolled your eyes, “Very funny, Finn. And we’ve decided to be friends now, so hopefully that won’t happen.”
Rey looked shocked, “Friends? You and Poe? I honestly never thought it would happen.”
“Me neither,” you responded, “but I guess being the reason that we got captured and that my nose is broken has Poe singing a different tune.”
You saw Finn lean over and whisper something to Rey, who looked at you and giggled.
“What?”
“Nothing!” they both exclaimed in sync.
Of course, you knew that there was something, but you decided not to question it.
“Whatever. Well, if you’re going to keep secrets from me, I might as well go.”
“We have to go anyway, we’re about to head home,” Finn replied, “good luck with everything. See you tomorrow!”
“See you guys!”
You hung up, grateful that at least Finn and Rey would be able to get through to the general. But what had they been whispering about? You shook your head. There was no use worrying about it since they were never going to tell you.
Poe strode back into the room then, carrying a single, thin blanket.
“This is all I could find. Sorry,” he told you.
You waved him off, “It’s fine. Better than nothing. I have good news, though.”
“You got through to the general?”
“Nope,” you said, “but I got through to Finn and Rey and they said they could relay the message.”
“Oh, good,” Poe replied, unfolding the blanket, “that at least takes care of that.”
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Getting the blanket ready for you,” he stated, draping the blanket over you.
You threw the blanket off of you, “Absolutely not. You’re literally sleeping on the floor, you need it way more than I do.”
He picked the blanket up off of the ground and gently placed it back over your body, “I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll freeze!” you contested, trying to throw the blanket off of you again.
He sprinted away from the bedside and disappeared through the door, “Goodnight, Admiral!”
You rolled your eyes. Stubborn as a mule, he was. But at least you’d be semi-warm tonight. Poe would definitely regret that later.
An hour later, and you still couldn’t fall asleep. You tossed and turned, but couldn’t get comfortable or warm enough to fall into an easy slumber, so you ended up on your back, just staring at the ceiling. If you were faring like that, you couldn’t imagine how Poe was doing. You felt a little guilty not forcing him to take the blanket, but he escaped before you could give it back, so he kind of did it to himself.
Not any sooner than you thought that did the pilot stumble sleepily into your room. His lips were turning purple and his teeth were chattering like crazy.
“Oh, Poe, you’re freezing!” you exclaimed.
“A l-litt-ttle,” he stuttered, the cold making his teeth clink together like ice cubes.
“Come here, Poe,” you told him, gesturing to the bed.
His eyes widened slightly, ‘W-with y-you? A-are you ss-sure?”
“Yeah,” you replied, “I haven’t really slept either, it’s too damned cold. Maybe our combined body heat will help.”
He nodded and clambered over to you, not so gracefully removing his boots before laying down beside you. Since Poe was clearly freezing cold, you allowed him to snuggle into your side, and you gently wrapped one of your arms around him, holding him against you. His head flopped onto your shoulder, and you pulled the blanket up over the two of you with your free hand.
“Hopefully that’s better,” you murmured.
You felt him nod against your shoulder and he mumbled something that sounded like a “goodnight.” He closed his eyes and slowly, you felt his breathing even out until he was asleep. When you were sure he was, you glanced down at him. He was so close that you could see the grey hairs slowly starting to invade the brunet curls. A soft smile spread across your face. You had never seen him look so peaceful; usually the two of you only saw each other when you were stressed out of your minds.
Then again, you used to hate each other, so that might’ve been the reason behind that.
But he looked so… pretty.
You tried to shake that thought out of your head, but you couldn’t. Even when you strongly disliked hin, you had alway thought that he was handsome, but you were able to push it out of your head because of your disdain. Now, you couldn’t excuse your attraction away. You would never tell him that, of course. Since he hated you too, there was no way he thought you were good-looking.
You were finally able to break your train of thought when a big yawn fell from your lips. Maybe now you’d finally be able to go to sleep; you’d have a long day tomorrow full of hurtling through space, writing mission reports, and trudging through lots of snow. Your eyes fluttered shut, and if you fell asleep dreaming of the pilot beside you, well, at least no one would know.
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lexilucacia · 3 years
Note
Hi, can you write something where Chase is in a stable and healthy relationship with a girl/guy from outside of work and one day they make him lunch with cute notes inside and house finds it and then mocks him before the team ( original or the rest) and Chase goes I'm happy and that's what matters and then he goes home and proposes because he knows his partner is all he wants in life. Pls pls pls i just want him to be happy.
This prompt really spoke to me, so I’m sooooo sorry to everyone else’s I haven’t written yet, but when inspiration strikes, it just does!
Title: Little notes For Chase
Words: 3031
Tags: Marriage Proposal ×Weddings ×Fluff ×House Being House ×Secret Relationship ×Love Letters ×(or notes really) ×love notes ×thats not a tag ×Love Confessions ×Cross-Posted on Tumblr ×Tumblr Prompt ×Teasing ×Happy Ending ×Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts ×Author Is Sleep Deprived ×I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping ×POV Robert Chase ×
Pairings: Robert Chase/OMC
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29378082
Chase smiled again at the little note that his partner had slipped inside his lunch bag. They never failed to make him smile from the ones that had long extravagant messages to the small ‘I love u!’s that often made an appearance on a busy morning. He can’t really remember how it started, he thinks it must have been a late night where Chase was a bit too tired to pack his own bag (and that made him sound like a school kid). So, Felix had packed food for him, sending him off to work with a kiss and a ‘I love you’. 
He had seen the yellow postie flutter to the ground, catching in his grip recognising it as one of his partner’s lucky posties with ducks in the corners. The little message had caught him off guard, he’d expected his boyfriend’s weird rambles that he left around the house accidentally packed in his bag, but instead it was a little smiley face and a love heart. The note read, ‘don’t forget that you are loved (especially by me)’ with little hat drawn onto the printed cartoon duck.
He clutched the note to his chest, pinning it up in his locker once his lunch break was over. They didn’t speak of it, but at night, after Chase had thought Felix was asleep he pressed a soft kiss to his nape, and squeezed him a little tighter. 
The notes had become a constant in his life, he was used to finding one sitting one behind the toothpaste holder, one in the cabinet next to a new box of his favourite cereal and occasionally in his textbooks when he was studying for requalifications. He still found notes in his lunchbox, his favourite sitting next to a picture of him and his beloved. This one in particular read ‘I know I don’t have to woo you my love, you’d never leave me. But if you did, let’s just say I know an abandoned warehouse, you’re with me for the long haul.’ 
Chase had almost cried at that one and had wanted to pull out the wedding ring he’d put in the back of his cupboard a few months prior, that very night. Felix’s warped, wacky and weird sense of humour was the reason Chase loved him so much. He nevertheless stopped himself, unable to forgive himself if Felix didn’t get the proposal he deserved, goddamnit. 
They’d talked about marriage a lot, but neither had popped the question and Chase wanted to make the day that he did perfect (if Felix didn’t beat him to it at this rate). He was falling more in love with the man and his endearing notes, not that he’d thought it was possible and most days he thought his heart might burst with love. He’d be concerned if he wasn’t a doctor and working at a hospital.
Felix always seemed to know what to say. Reminders of love and worth came on days where he couldn’t his dad’s words out of his head, notes of memories and date nights came when Chase was feeling nostalgic, and his favourite every day the assurance of love. He never knew how to repay Felix, what to do for him, so he settled on small things, things that often would come up in the notes.
He’d notice that Felix was running out of clean socks and the next day all of Felix’s socks would be lined up, folded and washed (even if he’d had a night shift), prompting the drawing of tiny socks on his next note. Or Chase unloading the dishwasher, or putting Felix’s books away when he fell asleep with them on his chest. 
Both of them savoured these small things, tokens of their love, their bliss and domesticity. It all seemed to be going well, until one day Chase was careless. His boss House had all but ordered a team lunch, so there was no way out with his dignity (or secrets as it may be). 
Lunch started out normal, or normal as it could be with House and his nosey (pining in one case) colleagues, Cameron and Foreman, so he should have expected this. Chase pulled out his lunch bag, ignoring the snickering from House about how gay it looked and set to work digging through to see what food Felix had packed today. Inside it held a vegemite sandwich, a few pieces of chopped up fruit, juice box and a small lamington they’d purchased earlier in the week.
It honestly looked like a school lunch, House teasing him as such as he ignored his definitely flaming cheeks and certainly beet red ears. He was almost (not really) pleased to see the lack of a note perching in his bag, until something yellow fluttered past his eye, reminding him of the first day. Before he could smile goofily at the memory and snatch up his note, a loud sound rang out in the cafeteria.
The yellow disappeared under a familiar stump of wood, that Chase was used to hearing click down the halls of PPTH. The man had surprisingly quick reflexes (only when it embarrassed Chase of course) and the paper made a loud sound as it slid along the floor to House’s foot. The thrum of his heart beat and the scraping of the paper was all he could hear as the cafeteria noise was muffled around him. 
The older man picked up the note, capturing the attention of a few tables around them and the new people sitting at their table. House scrunched his eyes at the note, crinkling his nose in distaste at contents and reading it disdainfully.
“3 years i’ve put up with your ugly mug and you still haven’t learnt to fold shirts properly. Date night doesn’t sound so fun now.” The note had a crudely, pencil drawn shirt on the duck, making Chase smile as he looked over House’s shoulder.
Ho honestly didn’t know whether to sob or laugh, settling for a strange mixture of both, smile wide and tears running down his face, so that the rest of the cafeteria was staring at him, if they hadn’t been before.
It was their 3 year anniversary, Felix had remembered the conversation they’d had on their first date, he had never been more in love with the man. He must have zoned back, because when he finally snapped back to snatch the note from a gaping House’s hand, he was being barraged with questions.
“3 years?”
“Why didn’t we know?”
“Who is she?”
“What’s the crying for?”
“How could you have kept this a secret?”
“Is she hot?”
“I thought you slept with everyone?”
“What about the nurses?”
Chase was already getting a headache, not in the mood for this and wanting to sneak off and call Felix, just to rant about his day or blubber about his love, whatever came out first. He put a hand out, effectively silencing everyone. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “What do you want to know?”
Before they could all start shouting again he sighed. “One at a time.”
“Who is she? Why didn’t we know? How long Chase?” Chase had to coach his face into a neutral expression not to blow up at Cameron, the woman had made it no secret of her crush on him.
He simply raised an eyebrow, on an otherwise poker face. “His name is Felix. 3 years and I am under no obligation to share my personal life. There is a reason it’s my private life.” He glared.
Cameron looked shocked, before apologising for being rude and Chase felt a little guilty, but not enough to apologise in front of hundreds of prying eyes. He turned to Foreman who looked like he was bursting for a question.
“He?” Was all Foreman could get out, voice squeaky.
“He is the love of my life. Any more questions?”
“Knew you were too pretty to be straight.” House smirked, taking a bite into the younger man’s sandwich before spitting it out. 
“Did you try to poison me?” He shrieked.
It was Chase’s turn to smirk, picking up the offending sandwich and taking a large bite out of the other side. “I hope my boyfriend wasn’t trying to do so, it would have been me.” He exclaimed with mock horror.
He munched on the sandwich ignoring the taunts coming his way from House and walked back to his locker to put away his lunch bag and postie. Unfortunately House, Foreman and Cameron had deigned it necessary to walk him to his locker. After failed attempts to get them to walk away he opened his locker, smiling at the bright yellow notes and pictures of the two of them.
The photos detailed their story, their first date and Chase could almost feel it, smell it, taste it. Their hands damp with nervous sweat, uncomfortable suits and awkward conversation at a fancy Italian restaurant that had ended with them shucking off their ties, undoing their top buttons, kicking off their shoes and running in the rain. There was a cute, but blurry before and after photo of their date that Chase had insisted on printing for their anniversary. 
The rest of the images showed dates at DisneyLand, kisses under the mistletoe, birthdays and anniversaries spent together, hell there was even a picture of a half asleep Felix, shirtless and covered by a white sheet, Chase had taken one morning when the sun was just right and he looked like an angel in disguise. 
The post it notes took up all his locker door, some half hanging off, some stuck with blue tac, others with sticky tape and the special ones hung on a piece of string with some old pegs. It was truly an altar for his love, his life and he couldn’t be happier. Tucked behind it was an old picture of a shirtless blonde, teen, smiling widely on the beach, arm around a similar looking but younger girl, also grinning. They were holding matching surfboards and both were dripping wet from the surf, clutching ice blocks. 
Chase treasured the photo of him and his sister, but Felix took up the most space, like he did in Chase’s life. He’d bounded in and never left, from the day he’d run into him on a train and spilt coffee on him (what a cliche), while running late for one of House’s crazy ideas. Felix had filled the hole in his life that Chase hadn’t realised he’d had, life always filled with colour and joy and weirdness, with love and a warmth he’d never felt before. For once he was content, no matter what he could hear the others muttering behind him.
Foreman didn’t leave him alone the rest of the day, every time they went to do lab samples, nudging him and asking about his sex life. Cameron was more discreet but she too wanted to know everything, it wasn’t unusual behaviour for either, but it had never really been directed at him, making it disconcerting. 
House however, was acting much the same, always having teased him about the nurses, only changing the pronouns he used and adding more gay jabs than usual. It didn’t bother Chase for some reason today, maybe it was because he was too excited to see Felix, see what they were for their 3rd year anniversary, Felix had said he’d wanted to plan it this year.
As he was leaving the hospital, he was met with wolf whistles and an eyebrow raise from Cuddy (of course House had gone to her). Wilson also gave him a soft smile as he left, wishing him the next of luck Chase supposed, while House had pelted him with comments about his sex life and ‘taking it up the arse’ as he left. He didn’t care, he was floating on a cloud.
He had to stop himself from speeding home, knowing it was dangerous and Felix would definitely scold him for it, besides he didn’t want to go back to PPTH tonight. After what felt like forever he pulled up outside his house and didn’t bother waiting before he grabbed his bag, rushing up the stairs. What he saw when he entered was not what he expected, but endeared him regardless. 
Felix seemed to be juggling six pots, pans and bowls, food spilled on the counter and the faint smell of burning was what greeted him at the door. “Felix, my love?”
He called as he walked in, hanging up his coat and shucking off his shoes, going up behind his boyfriend and wrapping his hands around the smaller man’s waist. “What is this?”
Felix set everything down on the counter, turning around to give Chase a kiss and looking severely put out. 
“Robbie,” he whined. “It was supposed to be a surprise, and good, and be fantastic and awesome and it didn’t happen.”
He was pouting and giving Robbie puppy dog eyes and it felt so good to come home and be Robbie, himself, not Chase, like his father. He hummed at his partner, swaying with him and ignoring the half-hearted flails and whines to go back to the cooking.
“How about we get some take out and we’ll clean this up in the morning?” He asked, distracting the man with kisses along his freckles and pulling him impossibly closer, flushed to his hips.
Felix looked like he wanted to argue before moaning into the kiss and pulling Robbie closer. “Okay.”
They made their way over to the couch, Felix lying in Robbie’s arms while they argued over what to watch and whether Hannibal or Will was cuter. All in all it felt domestic, it felt like home. He was warm and comfortable, his brain to mouth filter had gone by now. A few too many drinks and shared thoughts about getting railed by Hannibal ensured it, but even he didn’t think he’d be this stupid.
He opened his mouth and without thinking too much about it he asked, “Will you marry me Felix?”
Felix bolted upright, jostling a sleepy Robbie who had Felix lying on top of him and was running his fingers through the smaller man’s hair, the key word being was.
“Are you serious?” Felix asked, wide eyed. He looked on the verge of tears, but the smile on his face betrayed his emotions in a second.
It took a moment for Chase to realise what he’d said, jerking himself awake. “Yeah.” He finally breathed out, suddenly breaking into a grin.
“Yeah.” Before either of them can stop it, they’re breaking out into hysterical laughter, is this what being in love is like? Chase has never felt anything as close, he wants to feel it for the rest of his life. 
“Yeah?” Chase smiles, jumping up and running to their room. He runs back out in record time, narrowly missing the coffee table and getting down on one knee just in time to see Felix sprint out of the kitchen. He opens the box up, showing the reasonable sized rock he’d gotten Felix, hoping to god that he’d like it. Felix took one look at the ring before bursting out into tears. 
“Will you be my husband?” Chase asked, smiling sheepishly. “I know it’s not a grand proposal and we just had take out and it’s on our-”
Felix shut him up with a kiss which definitely distracted Chase, then opened his own box. “As long as you’ll be mine.”
The ring Felix has chosen is beautiful, there’s no other way to describe it. It is so perfectly them. On the inside the engraving reads ‘for my silly duck’, the outside a rose gold and encrusted with tiny diamonds. Chase let out a wet sob, sliding Felix’s ring onto his hand. The inscription on his reads ‘for my post-it note hero’ and he cannot wait to spend the rest of his life with this man.
They don’t do much for the rest of the night, as the excitement and nervous energy runs down they sit examining their rings, half watching the tv and both fall asleep on the couch. They both wake up a little too late, but Felix doesn’t have to go into work until midday so he packs Chase’s lunch and sends him off to work with a kiss and a goodbye to his fiance. 
God it still made them both giddy. The team noticed as Chase walked in, earlier than usual with a spring in his step, Foreman making a crude comment about getting laid and Cameron just smiling awkwardly, obviously agreeing with Foreman’s assessment but unable to say it.
“So who asked?” House asked, walking in the room and glancing at Chase's inconspicuously hidden hand, that neither fellow had noticed. 
“It was a joint effort.” He smiled giddily just thinking of the night before as House made gagging sounds and the other two congratulated him. He got a thump on the back from Foreman, an awkward hug from Cameron, an even more awkward bout of advice from Wilson and a happy congratulations from Cuddy. Word spread around the hospital like wildfire, but he didn’t care.
He was getting married. He had a fiance.
He pulled out his lunch, sitting alone at a table, wanting to see what Felix had packed him. As expected a little note flew out of the bag and landed on the table in front of him, it all seemed to be going his way. 
‘To my duckling, my darling fiance’, it read, Chase’s heart skipped a beat at the word, ‘I love you with all my butt. I would say my heart, but it is just not as big.’ 
He laughed at his boyfriend’s crude sense of humor and big gluteus maximus Felix had given the duck in pencil, placing the note in his locker right next to the photo of their first date. The next photo to go up would be a photo of them at town hall, too excited to wait, along with a photo from their first dance and the traditional cake fight. 
He couldn’t be happier, with what Felix called them his ‘Little Notes For Robbie’.
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devildom-diaries · 4 years
Note
How would the boys react to hurting MC's feelings? Do they apologize or what lol
hahahahaa i’m dying at that last part
Thanks for the ask hun, answers are down below
Brothers react to hurting MC’s feelings
*** MAIN 7 ***
Lucifer:
- Considering that he’s the Avatar of Pride, it’s pretty rare to actually get an apology out of him
- Would probably think that you’re being silly for getting emotional over something so small at first
- Once he realizes that you’re not letting go of this anytime soon, he'll start to feel a bit guilty, wondering if he really did cross a line this time
- Would leave a small yet expensive gift waiting for you on your bed to show that he feels bad for being so harsh with his words
- He will have been waiting for you to see his gift, so once you show up he’ll sneak up from behind and wrap his arms around you
- He’ll put an end to the whole fighting situation by whispering in your ear “I hope you appreciate this token of my affection, I assume that you are satisfied now?”
Mammon:
- This idiot just can’t keep his mouth shut so it’s pretty inevitable that he’ll say something dumb to hurt your feelings at some point
- Argues with you about how he “didn’t even say nuthin’ that bad! You should spend a day in my shoes and deal with all the crap I get!!”
- Sulks after getting kicked out of your room, muttering to himself about how him hurting your feelings is actually hurting his feelings even more
- Vows that he won’t talk to you until you come apologizing to him first...
- Doesn’t even last 30 minutes. He’s already at your door with a dvd, a blanket and some snacks as a “truce” to mend the feud
- With his face a blushing mess, “h-hey I don’t wanna fight anymore so can we just act like it never happened.. LOOK I EVEN BROUGHT THAT STUPI- uh I mean that NOT stupid movie you’ve been wanting to watch haha”
Leviathan:
- “Eh?! Are you really mad at me?" He doesn’t really think of the consequences of his words so he’ll genuinely be surprised that you’re upset and ask you to confirm
- Is actually quite salty about it at first and just holes himself in his room for a while
- Binge plays a bunch of games to distract himself from missing you
- Eventually missing you becomes too much for him to handle so he uses the dating simulator games that he’s played before as a guide on what to do to fix this
- Based on his research, he goes with the classic bouquet of roses and box of chocolates. He approaches your bedroom door, trying to hide his blushing face behind the flowers “L-look I didn’t mean it so can we just forget about it?”
Satan:
- As an intellectual, he’ll tend to over-analyze the situation at first, making you even more upset than you were to begin with
- Your anger then ends up triggering his own wrath, putting a scowl across his face
- In this situation, he’d actually present an eerily quiet type of anger. However, anyone within a mile’s radius can sense the irritation radiating off of him
- “We’ll discuss this later” Since he’s had to deal with his anger before, he’ll actually leave the room knowing that he might say something he regrets if he stays. After cooling down a bit, he’ll text you to meet him in the library
- Once you’re there, he’ll straightforwardly apologize since he knows that that’s the most efficient way to end the situation and offers you cuddles by the fireplace to make up for it
- “I appreciate you honestly expressing your emotions to me so I’ll make more of an effort to be considerate towards those emotions in the future. For now though, can I just hold you?”
Asmodeus:
- Out of all the brothers, i think that Asmo would be the most emotional about upsetting you
- You wouldn’t even get the chance to leave the room because he’s already got his arms wrapped around, you wailing for dear life
- “Waah i’m so sorry darling I really didn’t mean to say that! Please forgive meeee! If you don’t, I’ll cover you in a million kisses until you do”
- He really can’t stand the idea of you being mad at him
- Spends the rest of the night trying to make it up to you. He’ll follow you around the house wherever you go like a lost puppy, not giving you a single second without him by your side
- “Are you still mad at me? Just tell me where it hurts and I’ll kiss it better..”
- However depending on the situation, he might actually use this an an opportunity to ~ s p i c e ~ things up in the bedroom but let’s not go there for now
Beelzebub:
- Because of Beel’s blunt and straightforward nature, he often doesn’t realize that he’s said something hurtful, since 98% of the time he didn’t actually mean what he said in that way
- Will often just be confused as to why you’re upset with him in the first place, so he’ll usually go ask his brothers for advice
- “Ok Beel, now word for word what did you say....mhm....ok....OH..WELL OBVIOUSLY THEY’RE UPSET BECAUSE-”
- Would probably buy you a dessert from the nearest bakery as a peace offering before coming over to apologize
- Scratches the back of his head while explaining to you that “I don’t really get why you humans think like that but I understand that you’re upset so I’ll try not to do that again. Here- I got this for you”
- Once you signal that everything is fine he’ll pull out a second fork from behind him and continue “Well actually, i got that for US... hehe i thought sharing could be romantic”
Belphegor:
- Would actually be more upset than he lets on, but he’ll play it off by acting distant and uninterested while you’re telling him why you’re upset
- “Hmm are you done now? I’m actually quite exhausted from all of your petty human ranting so I think i’m going to take a nap now”
- Marches over to his bedroom but the second he lays down, his thoughts start spiraling, not letting him get a single wink of sleep as planned since he can’t stop thinking of you
-Eventually gives up trying to sleep out of frustration, knowing that he’ll never be able to rest knowing that you’re mad at him.
- Struts back over to your room and hugs you from behind. “Ugh how troublesome.. fine, fine, if it makes you feel any better I’ll apologize” (Actually he’s really saying that to make HIMSELF feel better but he’d never admit that to you)
- Cuddles you extra tightly that night
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faulty-writes · 4 years
Text
Warning: Mention of Nightmares.
Fandom: My Hero Academia 
Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Reader
[You always kept your feelings for your Sensei a secret, but after a mission goes wrong and leaves you with nightmares. You end up going to Aizawa for help.] 
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Your heart was racing as you shot up from the bed, covered in a cold sweat. You were trembling and a few tears escaped, sliding down your cheeks until they reached your chin. Your tear droplets then landed on your hands which were currently tightened into fists. You were a hero, you shouldn’t be this scared ...this afraid. But you couldn’t help it, even if it had been a month since the mission that went haywire. You still had nightmares about it which you found ridiculous. 
But you kept it a secret, it seemed like you were full of secrets lately. Including how you felt about Shouta Aizawa, your teacher. The man you looked up to more than anyone and the one you always thought about after each and every nightmare. Yet, this one felt different. Usually, you’d jolt awake, hug your pillow with the image of Aizawa in your mind and slowly calm yourself down. 
But it didn’t seem to be working tonight, your tears continued, and no matter how hard you tried to stop shaking, to be the brave hero you were training to become. You couldn’t and it made you feel pathetic. Were heroes allowed to be this scared or were some just better at hiding it? You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer, but you knew you needed something to make these nightmares finally come to an end. 
Well ...maybe not something, maybe someone. You knew you were crazy for thinking this way, but your teacher’s had always made it a point that they would be there for their students. Wanting to push them to be their very best, that had to include helping certain students over difficulties, correct? Well, either way, you were going to find out. You quickly threw on a hoodie and left your dorm. 
You were still trembling, your face moist with your tears as you made your way to the teacher's dorm. You knew that Aizawa was dedicated and often stayed up late doing extra work or preparing lesson plans for his students. You proved yourself correct when you peeked your head into the only lit room you saw and there he was. Sitting at his desk, a tablet was on a stand next to him and he absentmindedly dragged his finger across the screen. 
You swallowed, staring at him a moment. As usual, you found yourself dazed by the way he looked. His long black hair fell to his shoulders and the tight black shirt he was wearing revealed his muscles perfectly. “Hm?” he turned his head when he sensed your presence and a shiver ran down your spine. “Uh ...I c-can e-expla-” he interrupted you when he pushed his chair back and walked over to you, an angry expression on his face. 
“Do you enjoy breaking the rules? You should be in your own dorm building,” he said and his angry tone made you glance at the floor. Your hands were pressed against your chest and that tremble returned, the weight of fear causing your heart to drop. Aizawa’s anger lessened when he noticed how you reacted and narrowed his eyes. He said nothing as he reached up and gently grabbed your chin. 
Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him fearfully. He, on the other hand, leaned close, studying your face. “Have you been crying?” he asked before a sigh came and he dropped his hand. “What happened?” he crossed his arms and despite his intimidating personality. You knew he had a soft spot for his students and would often go to various lengths to help or reason with them. You were no exception to that rule. 
You swallowed, the memories of your nightmare flashing before your eyes. “I …” you began, shifting your eyes away from him though you still felt his stare. Those eyes could burn a hole through anything. You took a deep breath, letting it out before hesitantly looking back at him. He deserved that much, even though you couldn’t help but feel pathetic and cowardice. “I-I’ve been having ...nightmares,” you muttered, feeling your face grow hot. 
It was embarrassing to admit such a thing, but if Aizawa found out about your feelings or what you did to normally comfort yourself after your nightmares. You’d be more embarrassed, so might as well choose the less revealing option. Still, your eyes quickly averted his gaze and once more focused on the floor. Your heart pounded, just panicking at how he would react to your confession. You expected him to scoff and tell you to go back to bed and stop wasting his time. 
Instead, he stepped forward, and a moment later, his arms wrapped around you. “A-Aizawa-sensei?” you questioned as you found yourself being pulled against his chest and his hand began to rub your back. “So I assume that’s the reason you’ve been so tired in my class lately.” you swallowed, oh yeah. That was a thing, wasn’t it? Sometimes your nightmares were so bad you refused to go back to sleep until the following night which obviously made it hard to keep your eyes open during class. 
Your cheeks deepened in color. Who else had the opportunity or chance to be this close to the one they liked and have them actually be concerned for your well-being? It was almost like a dream come true, a dream that would hopefully keep the nightmares at bay. You couldn’t help but notice his scent, he smelled like pine and coffee but somehow it suited him. 
You realized you had gone a moment without speaking, “I ...y-yes.” you replied, your words coming out in a shy squeak. “Hm, I see,” he replied, tilting his head ever so slightly and you could feel his hair tickle your forehead. You had to restrain yourself from reaching up and running your fingers through it, his hair always looked so soft. Surely it would be fun to play with, despite you knowing it was inappropriate to think of your Sensei that way.  
He continued to rub your back which was soothing and that underlying fear you once felt seemed to fade. A breath sounded before he pulled away and you almost missed his touch. If you had it your way, you would bathe in the warmth he provided until you suffocated. But once more, you were reminded of the relationship you held with him and pushed those feelings down. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you once more glanced away, the beat of your heart echoing in your ears. 
“I know nightmares can be a harsh reminder of reality,” he said and your head snapped up when you felt his hand on your shoulder. You tried to ignore the weak feeling in your knees as you stared at him, yet again the thought of how handsome Shouta Aizawa was crossed your mind. Especially when he was looking down at you with those beautiful eyes, his hair draped over his shoulders and his lips pressed together in a thin line. 
Aizawa’s hand came to rest on your cheek and again, you snapped out of your own thoughts. “Huh?” you glanced over at his hand, willing yourself not to become flustered. He crotched down some, getting to your eye level and moved his hand from your cheek to your hair. You nearly gasped as you felt his fingers gently massage your scalp. Then he did something you didn’t expect, he smiled. 
The sight of which caused your heart to flutter and butterflies to erupt in your stomach. He ...he was smiling and damn, you wished you had a camera. He looked amazing and you knew that smile could heal wounds for you seemed to forget all your worries at that moment. 
“I care about my students and that includes you, I wish you told me about your problem sooner but it makes no difference now,” he said before dropping his hand, leaving your hair slightly ruffled. A moment later, he leaned forward and you felt his soft warm lips press against your forehead. “Ah …” you shivered, frozen in disbelief that your Sensei’s lips touched your skin. When he pulled away, you took a breath. Almost choking as the oxygen filled your lungs. 
“Next time, don’t hesitate to come to me. I may be your Sensei, but I can also be that friend you can rely on when you need it the most. Alright kiddo.” he said, that smile still on his face. You swallowed, still a little shy because of that forehead kiss. But you nodded, “Uh y-yeah, sorry …” you muttered, glancing away. “Mm, are you?” Aizawa said, crossing his arms again. Looking down at you, he felt a small tinge of mischief come over him and leaned close. 
You looked back, a squeak escaping you. Aizawa was an inch away from your face and you nearly fainted. You trembled as he reached out, his fingers ghosting over your neck before gliding through your hair. “Y-Yes?” you replied, unsure of what he was doing as you felt his fingers curl into your hair to keep a loose grip on it. He chuckled and you wondered if he knew your feelings for him because the next thing you felt was the feather touch of his lips against yours. 
It wasn’t quite a kiss, but your lips did touch and your face lit up like a firecracker. You stumbled back, your body acting on its own, and Aizawa chuckled at your reaction. Slipping his hands into his pockets. “I thought you’d react that way,” he said, “don’t think I haven’t caught onto your feelings for me, it’s been a distraction in class.” you felt your heart sink, God ...so he did know. 
It was a little embarrassing, but honestly, you should have expected him to figure it out. Considering he was not only a Pro Hero but a very observant one at that. “But at least you were smart enough to keep it to yourself.” you could tell by his tone that he was teasing you and it only resulted in you frowning. But you weren’t sure what you could say, there was no point in denying it or arguing with him. 
Instead, you grumbled. Allowing the silence to fill the air and the embarrassing tension that came along with it. “Just remember that small token of affection next time you have a nightmare,” he turned to walk back to his desk, “that being said, return to your dorm. I expect you to be wide awake for class tomorrow and remember if you ever have a problem, you can come to me or any of your teachers. We’re here to help.” you shyly nodded. 
“T-Thank you, Aizawa-Sensei …” you replied, bowing before you shyly scurried away. Your face bright red and your mind now replaying the moments you had with him, rather than your nightmares. You were no longer sure if going to Aizawa had been a good idea or not and the fact that he knew about your feelings may make dealing with class a little harder. But either way, the man your heart called out for was your light and he certainly made the nightmares go away. 
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lumassen · 4 years
Text
What if aph England was a Scouser?
This came from a conversation on a discord server about what accent people headcanon England to have as we have so many, and as a northerner I like to think he would rock a northern accent. Based off several headcanons that England and Norway are good friends, and that nations move around a lot to avoid being clocked by their citezens for the fact that they don't age, I bring you this random drabble:
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It was getting dark by the time Norway finally arrived in the port of Liverpool and stepped off the ship. It had been 5 years at least since he'd seen Arthur, and perhaps 15 or more since he'd last visited England, and since finding out that Arthur was now living in Liverpool he took the opportunity to visit him when he was there on a trip.
Stepping down from the gangway, Norway tightned his scarf a little tighter around himself, the biting cold winter air slipping through any opening in his coat that it could find. Pulling back his glove to check his wristwatch, he noticed they'd got in a little late even though they hadn't really been delayed when they set off from Bergen.
Turning back to the ship for a moment, Norway watched with a small smile as his crew who'd kindly let him come along with them began to unload the large Norwegian Spruce. Since 1942 he'd given a Christmas tree as a gift to the people of England as a token of gratitude for the support they had given him during the second world war, something he would never forget. It started off as a single, 60 or so year old Spruce that was cut down specially and gifted to be put up in Trafalgar Square every year, but in recent years Norway had started gifting a couple more to other cities around the UK, and this year he had one for Durham, Oxford and Liverpool cathedral.
When he was satisfied that his crew didn't need any help, Norway waved a quick goodbye to them before setting off across the docks. He walked slowly at first, admiring the Christmas lights that decorated lamp posts and trees until he spotted England sat on a bench at the end of the docks. Quickening his pace so to not keep him waiting much longer, Norway's smile broadened just a little more. He and England were old friends despite their past differences and conflicts, and Norway had been looking forward to this visit since he found out that England living here.
"Long time no see." He said as he stopped in front of England, who looked up away from his smartphone and put it in his pocket.
"Likewise," he said with a smile, standing up and grasping Norway's hand in a firm, friendly handshake before pulling him in for a hug.
"So, Liverpool eh? I thought you'd be more of a country house in the cotswolds kinda old man by now, so I'm a bit surprised to find you here." Norway teased as they started strolling away from the docks and toward the city centre.
It was the end of November, so despite it being nearly dark it was still only 4pm in the afternoon and the streets were still full of people. For the past few years Norway had been living in the depths of the countryside up in Narvik with more sheep around him than people, so it felt strange yet nice to be surounded by so many people again.
England laughed a little, "Yeah, I fancied living somewhere a little livelier. I was getting a bit fed up in a big drauhty house down south, I found that I always had a proper cob on so I knew I needed to move to somewhere with a bit of atmosphere. I know we shouldn't have favourite citzens, but I've always had a soft spot for the people of Liverpool." he said, and Norway was shocked at how much his accent had changed since the last time he'd seen him.
It happened to most nations who lived among citezens to end up speaking with their accent or dialect, so he wasn't necessarily shocked, just a little taken aback.
Whether it was the fact that his own English skills were a little rusty from living in a rural place where not many of his citezens around him spoke anything but Norwegian or the fact that England's accent had thickened he wasn't sure, but Norway was struggling to keep up with him.
"What abar you? Where you living?"
"Er, Narvik. Been there about 7 years. It's nice." Norway said, with not much else to add. Narvik was Narvik. He went fishing occasionally, but other than that he was either buried in paperwork or eating or sleeping these days.
"Fancy a bevvy while we have a natter? There's a bar close by that's proper sound, you'll love it, and no I won't get bladdered before you say anything." England said as they turned the corner, and Norway quite honestly didn't understand a word that he just said.
"A bevvy?" he repeated, and Arthur turned to look at him and raised a large eyebrow,
"Yeah, a drink. Do you not fancy it?"
Norway blinked a couple of times, trying to get his head around England's changed accent. Sure, he knew that dialects and accents were a common thing, and back in his country he had many unique ones himself, but the way that England was rolling his 'r's and talking from the back of his throat on some words was tough enough to understand without the added slang.
"Sorry, yes I'm happy to have a drink with you." Norway said, a smirk crossing his lips at the fact that England was so oblivious to his change in accent.
They talked about this and that while they walked to the bar, England asked after Denmark and Iceland and they discussed the upcoming football championship until they arrived to a wobbly looking old stone pub nestled among the more modern buildings of the city. One of the things that Norway loved about visiting England was hidden gems such as this, and in summer he loved touring old castles and historical sights with Arthur.
Norway stepped inside as England held the door open for him, relieved to be inside and out of the wind. The smell of beer hit him immediately and he could feel the carpet sticking to the bottom of his shoes.
He spotted an empty table and took a seat, England following him and sitting down opposite, taking his gloves off and stuffing them into the pocket of his leather jacket.
"God it's baltic out there, but I'm proper made up that you've come to visit though. Actually this probably isn't that bad for you is it, now you're living in Narvik." England laughed, rubbing his cold hands together before he stood up again, "Let me get you a bev, back in a tick." he said before pushing his way to the bar.
Norway watched England as he leant on the bar, laughing with the bartender and chatting away and sighed, still not fully understanding what the hell he'd just said. He was pleased though that England was happy and settled in Liverpool. He'd had it rough the past couple of years with the whole Brexit thing which had obviously made him move as a distraction if anything else and Norway was glad to be catching up with an old friend, but had he realised that he would struggle to understand England as much as he was then he might not have suggested staying for a whole week...
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lol. For those people not from the UK and aren't familiar with a Scouse accent I tried to find a video. The best one I could find is still a bit crappy, but the girl at 0:12 is a prime example of how fast Scousers speak that not even I or the subtitles could keep up with her at first.
Click for the video
this fic is the closest I've ever got to writing a crack fic and this is purely self indulgent im sorry lol
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kjack89 · 4 years
Text
Love in the Time of Quarantine (Pt. 6/?)
Remember what I was saying about bumps in the road? Well...
Read parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5, or catch up on previous parts on AO3.
After their early dinner of falafel (with extra pita and garlic sauce, and Enjolras was certainly not going to make anything of Grantaire having his dinner order memorized), they played more board games.
A rousing game of Chutes and Ladders ended in further accusations of cheating, this time for Grantaire, who was convinced that Enjolras had somehow rigged the spinner. “Oh, come the fuck on,” he snapped as he landed on the long cookie jar slide for the third time. “You’re doing this on purpose!”
“Yes, me and my magical powers over the spinner,” Enjolras said dryly.
Grantaire scowled at him. “If anyone could sweet talk an inanimate object into conspiring against me, it’s you.”
Enjolras blinked. “I think there might be a compliment in there somewhere.”
Grantaire’s scowl deepened and he flopped back against the couch cushions. “Just take your turn,” he huffed.
After Chutes and Ladders, they started a game of Risk that initially threatened to stretch into the early hours of the morning as they matched each other’s strategies. But then, Enjolras made a critical mistake – or a stubborn stand, as Grantaire called it, the fine lines around his eyes crinkling as he grinned at Enjolras – stretching his troops too thin on the eastern front. 
“Shall I refer to this as your Waterloo?” Grantaire asked innocently, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he captured Enjolras’s last remaining stronghold. “The downfall of the great emperor?”
“Keep insinuating that I’m Napoleon and I will never speak to you again,” Enjolras said through gritted teeth. As Grantaire’s grin widened as he clearly pretended to consider it, Enjolras added, “Besides, the Eastern Front metaphor is more suited to the Battle of Stalingrad than Waterloo.”
Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Would you rather I call you Hitler, then?”
Enjolras glared at him with an intensity that could’ve melted paint, even though he knew damn well he had walked right into that one. “Not if you value your life.”
Still grinning, Grantaire just shook his head as he began to clean up the pieces. “Fine,” he said, “but you’re welcome to call me Stalin any time you want.”
Enjolras smacked him lightly on the arm but even he had to laugh. He sat back, glancing at the time and surprised to see how late it had gotten. The day had passed far quicker than he had anticipated, and he suspected he had the company to thank for that. He looked back at Grantaire, who had just snagged the last falafel and looked like a deer in headlights at being caught. “Classy,” Enjolras said dryly, and Grantaire gave him the finger. “What should we do now?”
Grantaire swallowed before smirking and suggesting, “Well, there’s always Twister…”
He had barely gotten the suggestion out before his smirk was replaced by a wide yawn that he couldn’t quite hide behind his hand.
“How about bed?” Enjolras asked, laughing slightly.
Grantaire’s smirk returned. “I can certainly make that work,” he started, and Enjolras rolled his eyes.
“I meant for sleeping,” he said pointedly. “Since this is—”
“A trial run, I know, I know, whatever.” Grantaire stretched and sighed. “So I guess I’ll take the couch, then?”
Enjolras stood and reached down to help Grantaire up. “Don’t be an idiot,” he scoffed. “Bed’s big enough for the both of us, and it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve slept together.”
“In either sense of the word,” Grantaire murmured before shrugging. “I should put up at least a token protest, but my back isn’t what it used to be, and I’m definitely not going to say no to your tempurpedic.”
Enjolras rolled his eyes again, but this time it was with a smile, and he led the way back to his bedroom. They both quickly changed into pajamas (or at least, Enjolras did; Grantaire stripped down to his boxers, and Enjolras tried very hard not to stare), and Enjolras slid into bed, expecting Grantaire to follow.
Instead, Grantaire sat down on the edge of the bed, his expression troubled. “Are you ok?” Enjolras asked, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow.
Grantaire shook his head. “No,” he said honestly. “I mean, I’m fine, it’s just, this is…”
He trailed off. “Everything you ever dreamed it would be?” Enjolras supplied with a joking half-smile, one that Grantaire did not return.
“More like exactly the opposite of what you were intending.”
Enjolras’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”
Grantaire shrugged. “I mean, this isn’t a trial run.”
“What are you talking about?” Enjolras asked cautiously, trying – and failing – to follow Grantaire’s sudden shift in mood. All things considered, he thought it had been a good day, certainly better than he had been anticipating when he realized he had feelings for Grantaire – and realized how much of a disaster that could potentially be, for both of them.
“I’m talking about today,” Grantaire said. “I mean, God, Enj, when was the last time you took a day off from work? Whether your job work or Les Amis work? And when was the last time you spent all afternoon playing board games and not checking your phone every five minutes?”
Enjolras didn’t even have to think about it. “Honestly? Never,” he admitted.
Grantaire huffed a laugh, though it was without much humor. “Exactly.” He sighed. “Today ended up being a really fucking good day, but it wasn’t a trial run of anything. Or at least, not anything that matches what our reality would actually look like.”
“It could,” Enjolras offered half-heartedly, and Grantaire shook his head.
“No,” he said decisively, “because then you wouldn’t be you. And that wouldn’t work for me.” He paused, pretending to consider it. “Not in the long run, anyway.”
Enjolras rolled his eyes even as he couldn’t help but smile slightly. “So then what do you propose we do?” he asked.
Grantaire took a deep breath. “I propose we actually try and live our lives like we normally would, at least within the constraints we’ve been given, and see if we actually fit together, if this actually works.”
Even though Enjolras nodded at first, he froze when he heard the two-letter word that left him feeling suddenly cold. “If?”
Grantaire’s expression didn’t change. “Yeah, if.” He sighed. “Look, I want this more than anything I’ve probably ever wanted, but…” He trailed off and shook his head. “But I don’t tend to get what I want, so I know better than to think it’ll work.” He poked Enjolras lightly through the covers, and Enjolras laughed and pushed his hand away. “You’ve always been the one for blind faith, not me.”
As much as Enjolras wanted to argue, Grantaire had a point. Not that Enjolras had any intention of actually telling him that. “Ok,” he said instead. “So tomorrow we go back to trying to live our lives, even stuck in quarantine, and we see what happens.”
Grantaire shook his head again. “Not tomorrow, he said, standing up, and Enjolras frowned up at him. “If we’re going to actually do this for real, we need to start tonight.”
He started toward the door, pausing when Enjolras asked, “Where are you going?”
“To sleep on the couch.”
Enjolras sighed. “You don’t have to.”
“I know, but it’s for the best.” Enjolras reaches out for his hand and Grantaire half-smiled. “Look at it this way – if we make it through the next two weeks while actually being ourselves without wanting to kill each other, we can probably make it through anything. Besides, your couch probably has better back support than my mattress at home.”
He leaned over and kissed Enjolras’s forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning, Apollo.”
Enjolras reached up, cupping Grantaire’s cheek for a second before letting him go. Grantaire half-smiled at him before standing again, turning the light off on his way out and closing the door after him. 
Enjolras rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Grantaire really did have a point, and even though Enjolras knew that, he still couldn’t help but wish they had waited until the morning.
He closed his eyes, willing himself to drift off, but his mind was far away from his bedroom, and racing through far too many thoughts.
And mostly wondering why his bed suddenly felt so empty.
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