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#but I wanna clean some stuff up and refine some bits
doctorsiren · 1 month
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I have an idea (concept sketch that I will make a more refined version of in the morning since it is midnight)
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Just gonna throw this at you! Hope you laugh! Kinda inspired by Retro Reader.
Valentino: Your Little Feral 'Wife' just killed one of my performers!
Vox: I'm sure Retro had a very good reason for that.
Velvette: It was that one who kept bragging they planned to sleep with you to get to the top. I'm shocked it took them a week to notice the fool.
Vox: They spent the past week thinking I didn't notice them killing my former assistants.
Valentino: You mean the ones you fired for trying to bankrupt you? Why didn't you kill them yourself?
Vox: Retro would pout and its much more enjoyable to see them prove their loyalty. I should buy Retro some flowers, maybe that outfit they were looking at.
Velvette: Hon I think the thing they would want most is you taking a day off.
Enjoy the weird thoughts from my brain after reading your amazing stuff! If you wanna do something with this be my guest!
I’m sorry, I just imagine Retro popping up out of nowhere and being like “I would like that!”
And Valentino is just. Terrified screaming.
Anyway.
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Vox is thinks that actually a good point, so he leaves work early and shows up at the house without warning. Retro has a mild heart attack because they weren’t expecting him and the house might not be clean enough. But Vox brought flowers and the outfit they liked, so it works out nicely. Vox pretends not to notice the drops of blood on the kitchen counter.
Retro is also in a much better mood than usual with all the killing. They really like being uninterrupted in their work, able to take care of it as they see fit. I imagine it’s part of the reason Vox fired his assistants instead of killing them, too. It lets Retro blow off some steam.
I also think that Retro would become progressively protective of Valentino and Velvette as well. Not to the same extent as Vox, of course, but they wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who’s giving them a hard time.
As we all know, Valentino is the problem in most relationships, so Retro wouldn’t need to protect him much. If anything, I think they’d serve as a good way for Val to vent some frustration. They get together on the back porch, Retro knitting a sweater or blanket or something while Valentino decorates a new gun he got. Retro has tea or something and Val is trying not to smoke (and failing) because he knows Retro doesn’t particularly like it.
He also knows Retro won’t deal with any of his violent bullshit like the other Vs do. We see Vox let him break things, but Retro? They won’t allow it. They think letting of steam is healthy, though, so they’ll arrange for target practice while Val is there. They also start doing research on guns (they weren’t interested before since they are very loud weapons) first Val so they can recommend some new ones, how to decorate them, etc. Valentino is an artist and I feel like Retro would love indulging that side of him. If they become genuine friends (or partners, if they end up in a poly relationship with Vox) I imagine this would be a big part of it.
He’d complain about some performers he’s had trouble with, which ones are good, which ones aren’t. Retro would learn a bit about Angel Dust (but not much, considering Val knows better than to disclose how he treats his employees to someone like Retro). Retro would keep this information in mind for future killings, giving the better performers more leniency and keeping a watchful eye on all of them in general. Vox would invite them to a club or studio before this, and they’d usually reject the request since it’s not their thing (also not very housewife-type thing to do, and because a club meant flirting and we all know how they deal with that). After getting close with Val, though? They’d be more up for it.
Retro would end up refining their killing, having actual rules for what’s acceptable and what’s not when it comes to people talking to or making a move on Vox. They decide that if it’s someone’s job, like the performers, they get a pass. Random club goer? Thin ice, but they’ll have some patience. Both Vox and Retro make it a point to remind people that Vox isn’t interested in anyone else, so if someone knows that and keeps making a move? Well, Retro can’t kill the, right then and there, but they’ll go on the list of people to kill. I also imagine the list has different sections that people get sorted into depending on their threat level, both in terms of power and how likely they are to cause problems in their relationship with Vox.
Anyway, I’ve been neglecting the Velvette and Retro interactions so here we go!
I think it’d be a bit of a rough start between them, probably due to the fact that Vel already knows about Retros murders, but they’d get along pretty well. When Valentino described them to Vel, she got the impression they’d be more crazed and all over the place, an absolute mess. So imagine her surprise when she met Retro, someone who’s so polite and calm and well mannered. She’d understand immediately. Instant besties, especially with Retros fashion sense.
Now, Retro and Val have an odd sort of relationship but Vel and Retro have something more genuine and wholesome, I think. Vel would go to Retro for some advice, ask about ideas, and the like. She appreciates their unique tastes and preferences, as well as the out of the box ideas they can come up with. If Velvette is ever afraid something she’s making may not be functional as an outfit? She gives it to Retro, asks their opinion.
I also imagine Retro would have a good understanding of what fabrics feel nice together and which ones don’t, something Velvette may struggle with. She doesn’t have a problem with fabric textures, so she doesn’t realize how it may impact the buyers opinion on the outfit. Retro offers that new perspective, too, since I imagine they’re quite picky on that sort of thing. They care a lot about fabric texture, flow, and feel (something I can personally relate to) not only because it impacts its mobility and functionality, how hard it is to clean after killing, but also general comfort. Retro would be more than happy to help with whatever Velvette needs, but modeling is strictly off the table. They’ll do private photo shoots for fun, sure, but Retro is determined to keep up the housewife routine.
Valentinos visits probably tend to be more infrequent and out of the blue, but Velvette has a tight schedule and specific dates with Retro, something they greatly appreciate. The gossip they discuss? Top tier. Val and Retro usually discuss dancing skills, choreography, people’s tastes in partners and their horrible life decisions, which is fun but not exciting. Velvette always has some dramatic tea to spill and I imagine she’s great at explaining it in an immersive way that captures Retros attention. Retro would probably be able to offer up good theories and thoughts on how the situation would go, too. I think they’d really enjoy Velvette’s company and listening to her talk.
I also think Velvette would be mostly supportive (at the very least, completely okay) with Retros habits. She thinks their dedication is adorable. I think they talking about Vox’s work habits, too. Probably complain that he needs to take a break. Velvette offers valuable insight into what the workplace is like, so Retro has a better idea of the dynamics Vox holds with people, his habits, what he likes and what he doesn’t. They use this information to make him extra comfortable and relaxed after an especially long or tiring day of work. I don’t think Vox would really notice at first.
Retro berates Vox about his bad habits, how he needs to take care of himself, and I think he’ll start to listen. He’ll take a few more days off than usual, come home with flowers, and maybe go out for a nice dinner.
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redrockbluerock · 7 months
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On a scale of one to ten (1 meaning the easiest and ten meaning impossible), how easy was it to bathe Baby NiGHTS and Baby Reala?
so! really funny thing. I actually have a fanfic about this exact thing more or less (it was sitting in my drafts unfinished for like months and this ask motivated me to finish it)
but! It really depends on who you are. NiGHTS goes from being an a 6 at best to most frequently a 10- She hates being bathed so much, being submerged in water scares her so bad, NiGHTS bites everyone.
Reala, if things are the way they like them, is a 2 at worst. However, they're very sensitive to smells and stuff so they'll cry endlessly if things aren't right, making them about a 5 (or a 10 if you're like Puffy).
anyway fic is under the readmore if you wanna see it without clicking that link
Hand Wash Only
According to Wizeman, the First Levels were his greatest creations; Powerful, intelligent, and with the invaluable ability to steal every kind of Ideya. 
At least, they would be. Currently they were little squirming beasts that fit in the palm of your hands. Even the younger visitors could lug them around effortlessly, even more easily than one of the nightopians. They were weak- eyes barely opened, movements clumsy and uncoordinated, incapable of flight. 
Utterly pathetic life forms. 
Currently-Currently they were filthy and needed to be washed. 
Puffy had no idea how exactly two freshly hatched nightmarens who did little more than eat and sleep could get so dirty- Jackle’s explanation was frankly incomprehensible, somehow even more so than when the deranged imbecile was composed. 
Still, she was the only one with a proper bathroom, so this had become her responsibility. Both had gotten a quick rinse to get most of the gunk off of them- plus their clothes and helms being washed, but they’d need a bit more focused cleaning to fully remove the rest. 
Reala was more difficult for Puffy to deal with- which was why she chose them first. Yes, their sibling was much more snap-happy with biting, but NiGHTS was at least quiet. 
Reala, by contrast, seemed to cry over everything.  Being held, being put back down, being hungry, being fed, the list goes on. 
Currently the offending issue was soap. It wasn’t the texture- she’d barely gotten to open the bottle before they’d begun wailing. 
Any of the bottles, actually. The second the seal was broken on a soap, they’d begin sobbing, a shrill noise that hammered into her head ruthlessly. 
Her sensitive hearing- enough to detect sounds in other nightmares- was usually a strength of hers, but this sound used it against her. 
Puffy begins humming, a small soothing tune that slowly makes Reala calm down. The hatchling twitches, their whines quieting down into small whimpers. They curl up against her palm, staring at her with damp eyes. She sighs. 
“Picky little soul, aren’t you darling?” 
“Bbyeh.” She sets the bottle back down, before reaching for one final bottle. 
“Look, darling, I’m running out of options. You better like this one or we’re both going to be miserable.” With that, she opens the bottle. Reala wiggles a bit, before-
A squeak.
Just one. 
She blinks, tilting the bottle closer to Reala. They sniff at it a few times, before looking up at her. Reala mewls- a weak little sound, but notably not crying. 
“Of course you like that one, it’s difficult to make.” She gently pets their head, the hatchling’s eyes dampening a bit. “You have quite the refined taste considering how young you are.”
“Myehhhhhh.” 
“Let’s get to washing you then, yes?” She pours a small glob of soap onto the hatchling’s belly before lathering it up, careful to not get any in their throat. Reala is surprisingly quiet, minus a few chirps from their face being touched by a damp towel. Still, they’re very cooperative, especially when she begins to rinse them off. They splash a bit in the water, cooing with excitement. Puffy tilts her head slightly, surprised by this behavior. 
“You… certainly have some secrets, darling.” 
“Byu!”
Given their small size, Reala is wrapped in a washcloth to dry off, still burying them in quite a bit of fabric. 
Reala snuggles into the towel, purring loud enough that their entire body was shaking. Despite being arguably louder than their cries, the rumbling was a welcome reprieve from the piercing noise. 
Soon enough, Reala’s helm is slipped back onto their head, hiding their nubby horns and tuft of hair. A peep of protest comes from the hatchling before their vest is once again on their body, snug on their miniscule form. Their tiny hands are slipped into their gauntlets, gently locked onto their arms to keep the child from losing them. Boots were placed on tiny paws- earning Puffy a wiggly kick from Reala, and their collar was placed back on, the hatchling’s head tucked safely into the fabric. 
“Time to rest, darling.” With that, she headed back to her bedroom, where the twins nightmare- and NiGHTS herself- currently resided. 
Their nightmare was little more than a red and violet cushion, but it still was incredibly generously sized for the two infants. 
NiGHTS was beginning to wake, eyes cracked open slightly as she wiggled around the nightmare.
She sets Reala back down next to NiGHTS, earning a bite from the purple hatchling. “Nice to see you too, dear.” NiGHTS growls, before letting go of Puffy’s fingertip. “Now it’s your turn.” Puffy scoops her up, getting another growl in response. 
Reala gives a single peep of protest at her taking away their twin before they fall asleep, too tired from the oh-so-busy job of crying. 
NiGHTS was afraid of the water. 
Incredibly so. 
As soon as it touched her, all the snappiness melted away, replaced by the hatchling desperately digging her tiny needle-like claws into Puffy’s skin. She’d managed to claw her way up the second level’s shoulder before stopping, burying her face in Puffy’s cheek fur. 
“Mm. Let’s try something different.” 
After a few minutes of preparation, Puffy gently pulls the hatchling away from her face. Instead of the sink having water inside, there now was a washcloth placed at the bottom, with a water jug set on its side- alongside another cloth and the soap. NiGHTS stares up at her, eyes wide and body shuddering. 
“I will try to be fast, dear.”
With that, she sets the hatchling onto the sink-cloth, NiGHTS’ claws immediately digging into the fabric. Pouring a small amount of water from the jug got a small squeak from her, but thankfully no panicked squirming.
 A small glob of soap was placed on the second washcloth, before being rubbed in- easier to have the lather ready before bothering the snappier twin. 
NiGHTS didn’t seem to care as much about scents as Reala did, not reacting until the washcloth touched her belly. 
“Nyyeeeeb.” She wiggles around, trying to pull away from the soap-cloth. 
“Dear, you smell terrible. It can’t be pleasant for you to be coated in… that.” 
“Byyyeeeh!” 
Soaping up NiGHTS took significantly longer than Reala, given her constant squirming. 
Washing it off made the protests begin anew, more displeased squeaking coming from the hatchling. Still, her energy being used to whine meant she wasn’t biting, which was some sort of a plus. Eventually, despite NiGHTS’ protests, she was clean. 
Putting her clothes back on was effortless- for the most part. NiGHTS had clamped down on one of Puffy’s fingers with her lantern, but the collar was much too small to really get stuck, instead sticking onto the pad of Puffy’s finger. At the very least, it made it easier to place the collar over her throat.
Fully washed and dressed, NiGHTS just glares at Puffy.
“Exhausted, dear?” 
“Graaaaa.” She halfheartedly bites Puffy’s palm, lazily staring up at the second level. 
“Mhm. Let’s find your sibling.”
Reala was still dozing by the time they returned, still tired from their own bathtime endeavors. They didn’t even wake from NiGHTS being placed beside them, instead sleepily snuggling up to their twin. NiGHTS continues her angry glares, staring up at Puffy despite actively falling asleep. Alas, after a minute or so exhaustion won, NiGHTS joining her twin in sleep. 
Puffy exhales softly, sitting down in an armchair beside their nightmare. Watching them rest peacefully made an odd feeling bloom in her chest. 
She wasn’t the type of person to be a mother despite what her-not her memories insisted. 
That wasn’t relevant here. 
Her feelings weren’t relevant here. 
Only Wizeman’s orders were. 
She was, however, content to observe them. To study them. Train them. 
She could be their teacher, and nothing more
…she lies to herself. 
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SORRY I DISAPPEARED
Hello there! It has been way too long since i updated you guys on how i've been doing, and i've probably only got myself to blame on this one. But i have FANtastic news to share! (get it? Cus i'm fan? Genious, i know.) I finally managed to get a job! And a decent one this time, no more cleaning mediocre school halls for me! (Horrayyy!)
So this entire hiatus hasnt been for nothing, i've been very hard at work finally being able to persue the thing i love the most, writting! Now i can officially call myself a journalist instead of an amature blogger. The self-improvement sure is real, love to see it. Sadly, I am constantly restricted from putting my heart and soul onto the paper in favor of transmitting what could be classified as useless information to whoever is bored enough to watch the news. And that constant restrain has made me miss the days of the good ol' Fan blog, so i guess you could say that's the reason i'm here. I've missed writting whatever i want to without the need to always double or triple check my work, its fun to not worry if every single word i type fits into my current streams of thought and stuff like that. But you don't wanna hear about all of that do you? You wanna hear about the funny stories! The authentic work experience i have gained! Atleast i hope so, because if not then youre probably in the wrong blog. But if that IS what you came here for, bluckle up bukaroo because im about to tell all about the working woes and friendly foes!
First off the job aplication process was VERY off-putting, my 2 future bosses took care of the interview and they asked... odd questions. They were also always a little too...rude. But thats ok! Nothing that i havent already handled. On the job i have met some interesting personalities such as suitcase! (I was given permission to state her name, duh) suitcase is very kind and funny, but she also has social anxiety, which is weird considering she is one of the few reporters we have, the type that usually goes out, interviews others and deals with harsh weather conditions for some reason. Suitcase is always busy going from one place to another so she can grab the needed fotage, and since im normally the one who writtes her scripts, i get to go with her sometimes! The news channel utilises this totally not ominous and cramped mini-van to cary all of the needed equipment and people. Surprisingly enough, my supervisor is the one who drives the van! She's quite chill, her voice is so smooth that i have to stop myself from yawning when i'm around her. Dont get on her bad side though, i once saw her almost yell at our make-up artist. Speaking of that, they both have some weird relationship going on, i genuinely have no idea if they are friends or enemies and at this point i am too scared to ask suitcase about it.
Working there is pretty chill, i tecnically dont need to phisically be there but hey, a bit more of social interaction wouldnt hurt. Besides, i wouldnt have met suitcase if i only sent my scripts via e-mail! So its a win-win! What else do i have to say abt work? Hmmm.... oh yea! I have a funny story to share!
On my first few days, suitcase told me that the make-up artist was an extreme chatter-box that preferably likes to "spill the tea" on everyone. But if you've been following this blog for a while now, you'd know that im not really good with understanding these types of frases, so for the longest time i thought that this guy actually spilled tea on people on porpose. (he looks really refined, so i just assumed he would be the kind of guy to like tea) So i, being extremelly cautious to not get tea on my lovely red paper, avoided him for like 5 days straight! He eventually caught on and complained to suitcase about it, she then told me so, and i explained my conundrum to her. After she explained what the frase actually meant, we couldnt stop laughting! I never actually apologised to the guy, i sure hope he doesnt hold grudges!
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afreakingdork · 1 year
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Hey Dork! It's been a while since I came to your ask box hehe, I just wanna say that CtM was such a ride, and I'm glad I found that fic cause it's probably one of the greatest Donnie x Readers I have read!!!
Which also makes me come to my question, which feel free to ignore if you've already answered something like this!
But you've inspired me into making an OC x Donnie story and I've gotta ask you about some writing tips? Also writing Donnie's character since I'm... uh... Not that great at writing for him? 😅 is there just anything you do to get into his character or is it just something that easily comes to you?
AA sorry it's long I got carried away-! I hope you have a good day/night wherever you are! :D
Goodness gracious, it's good to here for you! You come back just to make me blush!
Even if I have answered this, it's certainly been awhile. First off, the fact that I inspired you to write makes me doubly blush! There is nothing in this world like inspiring someone else to make art! Back to the question at hand, it's funny I recently wrote a little example of my process on my membership ko-fi, but that's not really tips, is it? Not to schlep this off onto someone else, but @kathaynesart wrote an incredibly poignant bit about storytelling that I hope everyone has a chance to read! To be specific, I especially jive with "the Greenhouse Method" and their notes on scenes mattering. Even when writing something akin to a slice of life, I'm a huge proponent that the scene has to mean something. Even if the whole sequence happens just so one tiny revelation or line of dialog can be said, I think that justifies the scene for the plot! I get frustrated, especially with movies as of late, that are long for the sake of being long and have scenes that don't serve the plot. Everything is in service of the plot; that's the point of a story!
My writing has been refined through years of reading as well. Whether that be fanfiction or real books, being a voracious reader is practice step one and integral to hearing many voices in a means to hone your own! Also, just like drawing, you just have to start writing now. Good... Bad... It's all subjective and what's important is practice. Plus even stuff I look bad on that's 'bad' grammatically or problematic that I wrote a decade ago, still has merit because the idea may have been good or the emotion I explored was interesting! It breaks my heart when old media gets deleted for the sake of 'cleaning up.' I understand the necessity for brand management at a certain point, but sometimes I wish there were more options like orphaning a fic on ao3!
As for Donnie, and this specially I have mentioned before (again, not a thing, this is a note for myself), but I got to a standpoint where I felt comfortable writing him after listening to hours upon hours of compilations of him on YouTube. I have this thing where I 'hear' a character's voice, but I need to tune that and compilations help tune out the noise of other characters when you really want to sharpen your ear for just one. That isn't to say this process ever ends. I still watch compilations to this day to remind myself what I'm going for!
I believe I'm the one who ended up getting carried away, but I hope any of this helps and please feel free to message me if you'd ever like my thoughts on your work! This has been a delightful addition to my day so I wish you a similarly wonderful day/night as well!!! ✨
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andro-dino · 2 years
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Ey art question
How do ya pump out sketches and drawings so fast? I see alotta mfb fanartists do doodles and drawings so fast. I mean im saying this as a slow arse fanartist myself so, ig it just looks so fast to me.
Honestly this is really interesting to me because it depends. As of late, I’ve definitely been able to draw a lot faster but there’s definitely stuff that I’ve taken a lot of time on. My fully finished and cleaned pieces can take me between 3-9 hours (there was even one that took me 12 hours lmao). Those ones I usually spend my whole afternoon-evening doing and the reason I’m able to finish some of those in 1 sitting is just because I’m really excited to finish it and just want to see it through. For a lot of my stuff that I put out in shorter time spans, it’s honestly just that I cut a lot of corners. Usually when I post several times a day, it’s pieces that I don’t spend much time on that I’m not really trying to make big finished things. Lots of posts like those, especially when it’s like, mini comics and things, are very simple and messy and I don’t spend a lot of time trying to refine them because I just wanna get the idea out more than making it a clean piece. I think another big one is that I don’t do a lot of lineart lately; I just go straight from sketch to color. When I want to make a finished piece but not do the lineart, I’ll put in a bit of effort to not make it too messy and clean it up a bit, but that’s really it. Lineart takes a lot of time and I’ve definitely noticed that in my pieces, so I just opt to not do it to save time (I also just don’t really like doing lineart all that much lmao). And of course, a big aspect of it is just practice. I like looking at my times on procreate and I’ve definitely noticed that more of my older art took me longer than some of my recent stuff, and I really just chalk that up to practicing and getting more confident in my art to be able to do it quicker. When I have a clear image of what I want to do, I’m able to make it quicker than something I’d redo over and over to get right, and sometimes just trying to not focus on getting it perfect is what helps save time.
Sorry this was kinda long lol. This is actually something I’ve thought about a lot and I like talking about it
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simonsworkshop · 2 years
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Musical sentence starters!
these will be from different musicals! these usually end up being really long so as always, I apologize for that. I’m using musicals that aren’t quite as tumblr famous but Should Be maybe this exposure will make some people listen to some new stuff! tws for sex n violence also swearing!
Something Rotten
God, I hate Shakespeare
“God, I hate Shakespeare!”
“Don’t be a penis!”
“The man is a genius!”
“Ah, geeze you sound just like him!”
“The way he feigns humility when all he does is gloat!”
Bottom's Gonna Be on Top
“My name will be synonymous with being on the top!”
“ I'm the cat's meow!”
“ It's gonna be great!”
“If you're the star you are, you couldn't be any more brighter.”
“Thank you, Jesus, and Hail Mary!”
“My accomplishments are much more accomplished than yours.”
“In your dreams.”
“Bottom's up!”
“Nice metaphor bro!”
Hard to Be the Bard 
“Just me and my beer and the terrible fear that I might be losing it.”
“It's hard.”
“ It's really hard.”
“I make it look easy but honey believe me It's hard.”
“It's a burden, but I suffer through it.”
“He is suffering.”
Oh don't make me do it, don't make me go through it... can somebody get me a drink!”
“Can somebody get me a drink!
“ Hoping for just a bit of divine intervention.”
Evil Dead The Musical
What The F*** Was That
“What the fuck was that!?”
“She just ripped my pre-ripped Abercrombie.”
“ What darkness lurks beyond this wooden sanctum?”
“ Dude, these hoes been zombified!”
“ I cannot stay here anymore.”
“ I'm getting out of here!”
“I cannot stay, I killed my lay!”
“ You can't go now.”
“Bitches out for blood!”
“ I can't take this anymore.”
“ We don't even know if there's a way back.”
“ I'll find a road where I'll flag down a van!”
“Just listen to me...”
“No I won't!”
“ It's time to go!”
“Now I'll put an end to this vacation.”
“ I'm gone!”
Look Who’s Evil Now
“You will die!"
 “Now I'll ask you a question, not where, or why or how...”
“Sock it to me, baby!”
“I heard you suckers mocking me!”
“If being evil's cool, consider me Miles Davis.”
“ You can't stop me now.”
“Who's the stupid bitch now, [name]?”
“ I'm sexy, I'm cute And so evil to boot!”
“ I'd kill you with these guns, but I don't think they shoot!”
 “Dude, grab the fucking gun!”
“Shoot her!”
“Shoot it!”
“ I can't shoot [name]. S/he's a friend of ours.”
Join Us
“Join us!”
“Don't you wanna join the crew?”
“You'll be dead and evil too.”
“The coolest thing to do is join us.”
“Your life sucks you know?”
“Don't be just a fucking shmo!”
“You'll be dead with no remorse and be hung like a horse.”
“You can even bang a corpse if you join us!”
“so just lay down that big gun...”
“ Ah! Ah! No, I'm not going to join you, never!”
“You don't want to look beautiful, like me?”
“Please! I'd rather look like this moose.”
“Why thank you!”
“ I'm here to tell you all about the fun and excitement you'll experience if you take us up on our offer and join us!”
“Can't you see we'll have a scream? Evil's funner than it seems!”
“Being evil is divine, you'll be dead but so refined!”
“ Party like its '99..."
“Oh you bastards! You dirty bastards!”
Blew That Bitch Away
“Well we thought you were fucking with us.”
“We thought you were a lying prick.”
“It just sounded like, uh, bullshit.”
“But apparently you weren't talking smack.”
“She was going to eat us!”
“You saved us all!”
“You're the baddest motherfucker in this whole strip mall!”
“We thought you were a phony on some mad tirade.”
“Now we see that you're a hero.”
“You saved the day!”
"You blew that bitch away!”
“I told you I could kill these demons.”
“Who knows who the next victim will be?”
“We need a clean up on aisle three.”
Ode To An Accidental Stabbing 
“Goddamn you, woman!”
“You fucking stabbed me!”
“Do I look like a fucking zombie?”
“It was a mistake!”
“What can I do to prove I’m sorry?”
“Well in the future I’d appreciate it if in the future you could not fucking stab me!”
“I’ll make you feel better!”
“This hurts like a son of a bitch!”
“Take this cloth and apply pressure to your wound.”
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lasquadrasfuckhouse · 3 years
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my roommate @bettyblanctorche and i are really into perfume and scent science so we decided to compile scents la squadra would wear 🌸🌲🍐🍫🍵
featuring our stupid commentary transcribed by yours truly
the roommate: you can just TELL this was written by gay people. like two gay people sat in a room and thought, what are we gonna do today?
bucci gang post here
risotto ✂️
rich and dark scents with a lil pop of somethin somethin. leather, tobacco, coffee, patchouli, frankincense, with notes to brighten it up like cranberry, plum, black orchid, peppercorn. dark chocolate would be a good middle note for him. he also just kinda smells like metal and ozone cause of his stand (like how it smells outside in a lightning storm!!!!)
prosciutto 🚬
BIG into cologne and perfume. earthy and complex, clean but a lil dark and sharp w/ some spice. ginger, bergamot or orange/tangerine, black tea, black currant, shiso, sandalwood. quality tobacco obviously. if he’s feelin floral he goes for the occasional note of smth like jasmine or lavender.
the roommate: that guy would wear chanel #5
me: HE WOULD WEAR CHANEL #5!!!!
the roommate: great while we’re at it he also wears versace dylan blue
pesci 🎣
the roommate: he probably just wears whatever prosciutto wears because he thinks that’s what he’s supposed to wear and he doesn’t really get it. they’re working on it.
me: [gives them a Look]
the roommate: I HAVE THIS LOCKED AND LOADED.
goes for fairly cool, green, fresh scents like green tea and cucumber with somethin a lil beachy like coconut or sea salt. he'd like to smell like rain. i had this one sample that smelled like sun-baked sand in a warm, lightly earthy way, and yea, pesci would wear that too.
the roommate: moss as a base note, it’s very green and foresty.
me: I WANNA SMELL LIKE MOSS WHAT THE FUCK
formaggio 🧀
axe spicy kinda guy. basil, thyme, pine, spruce, also sea salt, musk, amber, would like to mix it up a bit sometimes with somethin sweet n spicy like cinnamon.
me: WE CAN’T LEAVE IT AT THAT WE NEED MORE FOR THIS GUY!!!
the roommate: HE JUST WEARS AXE PROSCIUTTO HAD TO MAKE HIM WEAR NICE SCENTS SO HE WOULDN’T EMBARRASS HIM THIS IS ITALY YOU CAN’T BE DOING THAT!!!!!
me: it’s ok they at least get him to migrate from axe to old spice because at least old spice smells nice
illuso ✨
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the OTHER big into cologne and perfume. florals like rose and lavender but especially white florals!!! orange blossom, jasmine, lily. has refined taste in scents but it’s a lil old school. aldehydes for a sharp airy smell with an 80s touch. occasionally a creamy, milky note (almond or shea) like a milk bath with roses.
me: whatever the scent equivalent of glitter is, that’s what he wears.
the roommate: cassia, also known as chinese cinnamon, and water hyacinth. that’s what makes things smell sparkly. i like dropping hints that i have synesthesia
melone 🍈
this is definitely fruity.
the roommate: this guy smells exactly like an early 2000s nightclub and i can tell u exactly how that happens: pear, vanilla, grapefruit, jasmine, honeysuckle.
mango, peach, yellow plum, violet, frangipani, lotus, white musk. light n fruity sweet scents. he just smells gay. and we love that for him.
the roommate: if u want something specific, he would wear viva la juicy.
me: what the fuck is viva la JUICY.
the roommate: that and gwen stefani L.
me: THE DEATH NOTE SCENT????
ghiaccio ❄️
minty and cozy but also a bit sweet, clean and fresh but then underneath he kinda smells like cookies. sweet mint more than spicy peppermint. clove, might go for cinnamon or nutmeg if it's paired with vanilla, DEFINITELY vanilla in general. something a bit powdery like iris. the scent equivalent of white chocolate, shea and almond probably. cherry blossom and magnolia. green or white tea, sage.
sorbet and gelato 🔪🍦
they like to keep things interesting so they go for the more unique stuff that’s harder to wear. they both like spicy stuff and share a lot cause they are both gay and have similar tastes, honey for something sweet b/c it's such a deep and rich sweet that it's almost spicy and magnolia for something floral. but they have some differences!!!
sorbet is a bit deeper spicy. black tea, licorices like shiso and star anise, he smells like that kinda really good quality root beer that’s like $4 a bottle. but he also likes things that are clean and fresh without being too high or watery, think basil and juniper!
gelato is more mid tone spicy with a sharp pop: pink peppercorn, cinnamon paired with black pepper to give it some oomph, spruce, sage, ginseng, lime because no one knows what the fuck to do with it. if FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT was a smell, it would be gelato.
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spahhzy · 3 years
Text
Devil and Derilects.
Team RWBY had decided to take a vacation to the schnee manor to enjoy some of the high refined aspects of life.
Yang: oh look jaune posted another photo on Instagram!
Blake: oh let me see? *snags yang scroll*Blushes intensly* oh my...
Weiss: let me see that what could be possibly...oh...*Blushes intensly as well* oh goodness...
Yang: yeah vomit boy has got it going on! Look at those ABS!
Ruby looked at her team also wanting to see
Ruby: I would like to see...
WBY stop what their doing and stare at Ruby whomst stares back at them.
Weiss: Come again?
Ruby: I would like to see the noodle..
WBY just looked at each other hesitantly before Weiss handed her the scroll.
Ruby: oh nice ooh...
WBY stares at each other getting a bit weirded out.
Ruby: Jaune is quite the handsome man..
Ruby: I'd eat chocolate chips...from those abs...
Yang: yep I'll take my scroll back sis...
Ruby hands yang her scroll back.
Blake: uh you okay ruby
Ruby: I've never been better in my life *she starts to sweat while fidgeting in her seat*
Weiss:...your sweating...
Ruby: No I'm not...
Weiss: like you body is reacting to high temperatures...
Ruby: That isn't true...your just overreacting
Weiss: I'm just saying ruby...you looking kinda sweaty.
Ruby smiled at Weiss before turning away from them.
Ruby: oh no these ladies are growing suspicious of my behavior...
???: You weren't done yet...
Ruby: w-what?
Ruby looked down to see a mini version of her just woth a set of devil horns and a pair of wings looking at her from her left shoulder.
Devil Ruby: I said you weren't done yet...you know your weren't done looking at the good stuff you horny bitch.
Ruby: noooo
D-Ruby: take out your scroll and finish looking...let the noodle consume you
Ruby: I don't even know Jaune's IG...
D-Ruby: ask Yang...
Ruby: I can't do that...she'll know my secrets
D-Ruby: don't act like you wanna know...play it cool!
Ruby: I wanna leave a funny comment on Jaunes photo...what is his account name?
WBY all looked at their leader before looking at each other again.
Yang: NoodleKnight
Ruby: why thank you in kind sister and in a flash pulled out her scroll.
D-Ruby: Good good...hey don't pay attention to them!
Ruby *biting her finger*: oh duck
D-Ruby: Yeaaah...look at those thighs, those abs...and that ass...thats an ass that will send you right to the hub...you know what talking about you horny bitch.
Ruby moans while looking at her screen...prompting her team to stop their conversation to look at their leader in worry.
D-Ruby: Shut up your starting to make noises and shit!
Ruby: I can't be this horny in front my sister and team.
D-Ruby: Then get the hell out of there.
Ruby: how!?
D-Ruby: tell them you have go to the bathroom.
WBY resumed their chatting aside of their leaders weirdness...
Ruby: I have to use the bathroom
Weiss looked at Ruby in worry
Weiss: I don't like this girls...
Yang: Sis could you hold it cause I actually have to go.
This caused a spat between Blake, Weiss and Yang as all them actually wanted to use the bathroom.
Ruby: I have a disease....
That shut the three up as Ruby looked at them nervously
Ruby: and the disease is making me die...
Weiss: oum go the bathroom you dolt!
Ruby got up an excused herself before using her semblance to go to the bathroom
Blake turns to Yang: ...a disease?
Yang: ...I don't even know.
As soon as Ruby got to the bathroom she quickly closed the door: oh my oum...
D-Ruby: oh kay its time to finish the job...turn the shower on so these ladies don't hear you
Ruby turns the shower on.
Back with the rest of team RWBY Blake and Yang were discussing plans for a trip to Vale and Weiss was looking over some notes on her scroll.
Suddenly a loud ticking sound came from the TV screen.
Yang: oh no oh oum no...
Blake smiles before pulling out a notebook.
Weiss looks on and blushes intensly: Is that oum...is that dolt... is she!? in my bathroom!?
On screen was certain hub where all derelicts go to...satisfy themselves.
Weiss: Klein just cleaned it! Moist towelettes and everything! Damn!
Yang closed her eyes trying to maintain her lil sisters innocent image.
Blake just kept scribbling.
Back with Ruby: oh no I think I pressed the wrong button...
D-Ruby: Shut up its too late...
Back with the other three...
Weiss: Hurry up and pick a video you dolt!
Blake: that one video right their okay, starts off slow but its really good after the first 5mins
Weiss: oh my oum...
Yang: think of Ruby playing hopscotch...think of Ruby playing hopscotch think of Ruby playing hopscotch~
Back with Ruby...
D-Ruby: hurry up and pick a damn video!
Ruby: I can't all the thumbnails look so good!
D-Ruby: pick the freakiest looking one
Ruby: oh oum this will make me....*intensly blushes*
Back with the three...
Blake: Strong blonde knight takes petite redhead?
Weiss: this isn't happening this isn't happening this ISN'T happening!
Yang eyes closed : horny ruby isn't real, she can't hurt you, horny ruby isn't real she can't hurt you..
Yang opens here eyes at the screen and screams.
After ten minutes...Ruby finally comes out of the bathroom, looking disheveled.
Ruby: t-that was an excellent shower
Weiss: did you....did you..DOLT!? *blushes*
Blake: interesting...uh choice Rubes...
Ruby: shit...they know..
D-Ruby: you fool!
Yang: Rubaby! My sweet innocent Rubaby!
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seiin-translations · 3 years
Text
2.43 S1 Chapter 2.2 - Dracula and Princess Briar Rose
2. DRACKY
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Where’s Yorimichi’s moped
Previous || Index || Next
Let’s go back a little. It happened last September after summer vacation, so was that already nine months ago? It was at a time when I lived in a much more stubborn, headstrong and serious way than I did now.
The real boundary line between middle school and high school was unmistakably the summer vacation of the first year of high school. That was what I was convinced of after looking over the girls in my class, who were slightly more refined and stylish compared to the first semester. Starting with the sudden increase in the number of girls who shortened their skirts—which had been in line with school rules during the first semester—they pierced their ears, hairstyles were no longer only unsophisticated bobs or long hair, but, I’m not sure, somehow the cut of their hair ends was stylish and their bangs fell diagonally across their face, and I kept hearing them talk about stuff like going to the pool with their boyfriends or their first times, whether I liked or not.
On the other hand, as for me and my teammate Ayano, we were immersed in club activities almost everyday during summer vacation, so we had nothing to do with those kinds of flighty summer experiences. Therefore, our topics after summer vacation were…
“By the way, did you go cheer for the middle school prefecturals?”
And other such dull subjects.
“Mm, no.”
“You didn’t go with the other kids from your middle school? For us, it’s like a duty for the previous graduates to bring refreshments for us.”
“We’re not that friendly with our advisor.”
I answered, while opening the cleaning locker with a mop in one hand. A step ahead, Ayano, who had finished cleaning the hallway, was carrying baggage for two people and waiting. I carried my school bag and enamel sports bag separately, but Ayano packed all of her stuff into her polka-dotted backpack.
“I only heard the results. They lost in the first round.”
My alma mater, the Monshiro Middle girls’ volleyball team, had advanced to the Hokushin’etsu Tournament for two years in a row since the year before last, but I heard that this year, they were miserably defeated in the first match. Well, I wouldn’t say that the strength of last year and the year before was because of me, but I was tooting my own horn on the inside.
“Ibara-chan, the boys at your school are strong this year.”
“Our boys? They aren’t any good, though? I mean, are there even enough members for an official game?”
“I don’t know, but they’re fourth this year.”
“Fourth!? You’re kidding, right!?”
I wildly threw the mop into the locker without thinking and a high-pitched sound pierced the steel walls. Ayano, ducked her head as she said with her cheeks puffing out, “I’m not lying! A girl from my middle school went to the boys’ game.” I was even more shocked that there were girls who turned out to the boys’ game venue.
“Apparently, they have an incredible setter. I heard he was a third-year, so he should be there last year, but do you know him? If there was such a great player, you would think that they could have done better last year too.”
“Wha…I really don’t know. Did we have someone like that?”
This year’s third years were a grade lower than me, but was there an excellent setter there? I had zero impressions of that. I was pretty sure there weren’t any outstandingly tall boys. I remembered that the Kuroba house’s Bon was a bit big in that year, but he wasn’t skilled at all.
“Well, boys can get good all of a sudden.”
Ayano murmured with an absentminded look on her face. I didn’t know why, but…I didn’t like that remark and said, “The cleaning’s done. Let’s go,” and snatched my things from Ayano’s hands a little too roughly.
“Ibara-chan, you’re heading to practice now?”
“Do your best!”
A pair of girls from the neighbouring class called out to me when I went out into the hallway. Both of them were around one-fifty centimeters tall and compact. Their club must be some cultural club.
“Thanks. Take care on your way home.”
After I patted their heads and passed them, they squealed with joy and jumped up and down with their hands joined together (A little bit, really, not even five centimeters off the floor).
“Ibara-chan, you’re naturally scattering pheromones again doing that… They say that the percentage of boy-girl couples in our grade is low because of you.”
Ayano said with a wry smile.
I had been on the taller side since elementary school, so I had always been treated as the “handsome” type of girl rather than “cute.” I was the ace of the volleyball team from my second to third year of middle school, and on February fourteenth, the bag I used for club activities would be filled with chocolates in cute wrapping. I had been wearing my hair short for a long time now. After a long holiday in my first year of middle school, it grew out a little, I was innocently told by the smallest and frailest kid in class at the time, “Long hair doesn’t suit Ibara-chan. You look more handsome when it’s shorter.” I cut my hair in my room that day with a pair of scissors. It was then that I realized clearly the character I was looking for, and since then I had come to discover my identity as a “cool and handsome” girl.
When I joined the Seiin girls’ volleyball team with a lot of fanfare as an ace candidate, I was 173 centimeters. It was a height comparable to the average boy. However, right now I still wasn’t even on the bench because there were so many second- and third-years.
What I wanted most right now was a bench member uniform, a height of 180 centimeters, legs for jumping even just a centimeter higher than other people, not pierced ears or a haircut with a bit of work on the ends. Breasts were a hindrance, so smaller ones were better. I honestly wanted to stop having periods because I didn’t want to have kids in the future.
⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆
The two-story row house beside the fence of the first sports ground was the club room building for the sports clubs. The first floor was mainly for the clubs that used the outdoors, and the second floor was for the clubs that used the indoors. The girls’ volleyball team’s club room was up the outside stairs and second from the front.
In front of the club rooms for the baseball and soccer clubs that were next to each other on the first floor, the first-year boys who had been locked out by their senpais were sluggishly changing their clothes. It was a common sight, so we passed by without paying attention to it. Half naked or in just their boxers, the physiques of the first-years still weren’t that much different from those of middle school kids.
“I can see your undies!”
Ayano teased, peeking through the gaps in the steps as we climbed the outer stairs.
“Go away, pervert!”
Saying stuff like that, the boys wiggled around and laughed.
“We let you see them for free, so show us your panties back!”
“Sorry, but I’m wearing shorts.”
Ayano purposely picked up her uniform skirt between her fingers towards the idiot boys who gathered under the stairs while half-dressed in their pants. I left Ayano behind without following her lead.
There was some booing. “What, shorts are the devil!” “What the hell do you think a man’s romance is?” But I could also hear some of them whispering, “Did you see? Suemori’s not wearing shorts.” “They were white, white!”
I was so indignant about the stupid boys who were crowing about something so ridiculous that I stomped up the stairs like I was trying to step through the steel steps and drop kick those empty heads, if luck was on my side.
“Excuse me,” I said, forcefully opening the door to the room.
It was the girls’ volleyball team’s custom to have the first years change first after school and then go and set up, and then the second and third-years would change more slowly afterwards. So, right now, there would only be first-year girls changing in the room—at least, that was what I thought.
There was a foreign element. There was a single different creature standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by female team members.
“…Why is Kanno here?”
I said in a sharp voice. From behind, Ayano impulsively peeked inside.
“Oh, Dracky got abducted!” She cackled.
Kanno’s enamel bag was at his feet, as though it had been roughly thrown in. The female members had all changed into the summer-like practice clothes of T-shirts and shorts, but Kanno was still in his uniform. The Seiin High School uniforms had black blazers and reddish neckties for both boys and girls, but due to the season, we were of course wearing the summer uniforms, the boys wore shirts without jackets, and the girls just wore blouses. However, only Kanno was wearing a long-sleeved hoodie on top of his shirt, his hood worn deep over his eyes and the zipper zipped all the way up to his chin, and what’s more, his hands were completely tucked into his sleeves. It was a getup that screamed unseasonable.
“Okay, we captured Dracky!”
“I think it makes sense that since you’re practicing with girls’ volleyball, you should change in the girls’ club room.”
“If you don’t hurry up and change, our senpais will come.”
“Or maybe you wanna change with our senpais? You’re surprisingly gloomy.”
Surrounded by jeering voices, Kanno shook his head with his head still hanging down. “Then hurry up and change,” one of them said and reached her hand out for his hoodie before he said “Stop” in a voice that was as tiny as the sound of a mosquito buzzing. He tried to shake them off, his long sleeves cutting through the air. This feeble attempt at resistance was amusing everyone more and more. He desperately pulled back his hoodie that was being tugged in all directions and curled his back.
His face, peeking out from behind his hood, was morbidly pale, but only his lips were exceedingly red. Together with the thinly scattered freckles on his cheeks, his vaguely Western features gave him the appearance of a vampire who was afraid of sunlight, so his nickname was undeniably right on the mark.
Glaring at the racket with my eyes half-closed, I stepped in and loudly tossed my things into my locker on purpose.
“You’re cutting into your practice time, so why don’t you change as soon as possible? I’m not interested in watching you change, and I don’t care if I’m seen either. If the rest of the girls are done changing, why don’t you all get going?”
I said in a stern tone, not only to Kanno but also to the girls surrounding him, and the girls obeyed me with embarrassed faces while saying, “Yes—” and “We’re no match for Ibara.”
I turned towards my locker again and quickly changed. I undid my necktie and unbuttoned my blouse, exposing my back. “I’ll change too,” Ayano said brightly, then slipped under my armpit and shoved her backpack into her own locker.
Feeling eyes on me, I looked over my shoulder and saw Kanno jump before turning around and starting to change his clothes. He took off his hoodie that he had been preciously wearing like a turtle’s shell and squirmed out of his shirt. When he curled his back and pulled off his T-shirt from his head, I was surprised. Huh…wasn’t his body thicker than it had been before summer vacation? On his upper body, which was so weak and thin that it could be called a washboard, there was a thin but definite layer of muscle added, it looked like… He changed into a black long-sleeved T-shirt from his white short-sleeved T-shirt (so there’s ultimately not much difference from the hoodie…), undid his belt and took off his pants. I saw his boxers peeking out beneath the bottom of his T-shirt,
…Ah.
Snapping myself out of it, I turned my face back to my locker. I was staring at Kanno changing while saying I had no interest in him. Weirdly flustered, I pulled up my shorts beneath my skirt while…I should have worn a T-shirt…before that… I think I felt Kanno’s gaze on my back again when I was only wearing my sports bra. I casually looked sideways, but Kanno had his back turned and was about to put one foot into his long pants. He also seemed to have gained a hint of muscle on his thighs.
With no place to look, when I let my gaze wander, I caught sight of Ayano’s cleavage as she was humming and changing clothes. It had gotten a lot deeper in the short time we didn’t see each other, and the bra that encased her breasts that were growing heavy were now made of the same smooth and shining material like those worn by adult women, with larger cups. It appeared that Ayano had also stepped over that “boundary line” during summer vacation, leaving only me behind.
***
I should add some things about Kanno.
Kanno Akito was a member of the boys’ volleyball team who practiced with the girls’ team for half of the week. …I know that didn’t make sense, but there’s nothing I can do about that. Due to health reasons, he couldn’t exercise for a long time outdoors, so he was allowed the special treatment of joining the girls’ team practice in the gym. This measure had been in effect since the Monshiro Middle School volleyball team days, and I, who was from the same middle school, had been “half” teammates with Kanno since our first year of middle school.
For example, if Kanno was an easily flattered idiot boy who was quick to say dirty things, or if he was an incredibly masculine muscular man, the way he would have been treated in girls’ volleyball would probably different. But you could tell from a glance that the actual Kanno was weak with a gloomy and withdrawn personality, a boy who couldn’t stand up to being made fun of with a firm attitude, so he had been a suitable toy for the female members since middle school. I think he was less than 170 centimeters tall when we entered high school. He wasn’t big for a male volleyball player, but more than that, he was too thin.
Getting club chores forced on him was cute—in middle school, he was pretty much lynched by getting balls thrown at him by a group in the name of individual practice. In high school, in place of the disappearance of this kind of physical bullying, being made the target of sexual teasing like today had increased.
There was one baffling thing—even though he was being subjected to things where normally it wouldn’t strange if he quit, but rather than quitting, Kanno never missed a practice unless for good reason. He had school-approved circumstances, and I think it was okay to show up to the boys’ team practice as much as possible without having to seriously participate in the girls’ team practice, but…
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“Um, Ibara-chan, thanks for earlier.”
Kanno said in a small voice during passing practice. Passing practice was basically done in groups of two, but when Kanno practiced with the girls’ team for the first time in our first year of middle school, I invited him to join me after I couldn’t stand watching him standing there by himself as a leftover. So even now, three years later, Kanno still happily joined the pair I was in. Ever since I became friends with Ayano in high school, it had always been me, Ayano, and Kanno as a three-person group.
“I don’t want your thanks. I just wanted to change my clothes, I wasn’t looking to stand up for you.”
I wasn’t one of the members who bullied Kanno, but I wasn’t necessarily nice to him. In fact, I’ve never gone out of my way to stand up for him. Even if I happened to be present at situations like before, I would leave it alone as long as it wasn’t blocking my way. And yet somehow, he had been strangely attached to me since middle school.
Thanks for always helping me, Ibara-chan. Ibara-chan, you’re so cool… I wanna be like Ibara-chan too… With his pale face dusted red and some kind of enraptured look in his eyes, he had said stuff like that dozens of times until now.
When I was in middle school, I wasn’t uncomfortable with being branded as “Ibara-chan.” I was called that on the team, so Kanno just naturally came to call me by the same way. However, what about a high school boy adding “-chan” to a girl’s first name…? As for me, when I suddenly realized how embarrassing it was to call him by “Akkun,” my old nickname for him, I changed how I called his name.
“Ibara-chan is Dracky’s knight, eh?”
I gave a side-eye glare at and silenced Ayano, who had been smirking and teasing me. On the edge of the opposite side of my vision, Kanno was nodding repeatedly, looking shy. Wasn’t it usually the other way around? Why was he being so happy and bashful when a girl acted as his knight…
The ball passed between the triangle we made. We passed it around with overhand passes and underhand passes for a few moments, and then spikes were added, and we rotated the setter, spiker, and receiver roles in order.
Every time Kanno spiked to me, the swing of his arm would stop for a moment before he hit the ball. There was a break like he was looking at my face before smacking the ball.
This late summer heat was relentless, and even worse, the windows had to be closed because the badminton club was in the next court over today. Even though the gym had turned into a steam bath, Kanno, who was the only one out of place of a long-sleeved T-shirt and long pants, looked unruffled. I felt hot and dizzy just looking at him.
Everyone had somehow been told that Kanno’s “health condition” was that he must not be exposed to sunlight or something like that. Not only outdoors, but he also persisted with dressing to cover his exposed skin as much as possible indoors as well, so Kanno’s bare skin was a rare occurrence which also became a thing. There was even a time when some girls got fired up about the “mission to take a picture of Dracky’s bare skin.”
“Hey, putting that aside, do you know about the middle school prefecturals thing? Did our boys really get fourth place?”
“Oh, yeah. I went to watch it. They really got fourth.”
“Who’s that incredible setter? Did we have a kid like that?”
“Oh, that’s the transfer student who came during the third semester. I’ve never met him so I don’t know though…sorry.”
While feeling a bit irritated at Kanno meaninglessly being sorry, I was convinced, thinking, So that’s how it is. If it was the third semester, then our grade would have retired a long time ago, so it was no wonder I didn’t know.
“Heh, he’s pretty amazing. It’d be nice if he came to us next year.”
Ayano carefreely cut in, and Kanno nodded with a “Yeah.” I frankly didn’t care about the assets and talents of our high school boys’ team, but I couldn’t help but be intrigued by that setter dragged that weak and puny Monshiro Middle boys’ team all the way to fourth place in the prefecture.
When Kanno was active, the Monshiro Middle boys’ team had a chronic lack of members, so they couldn’t participate in official games, putting unofficial competitions like inter-city friendly matches aside. Since the boys’ team wasn’t going to compete anyways, the girls from the girls’ team put him in the girls’ uniform and tried to drag him to the girls’ competition, but the advisor got angry as expected. But even if it had happened, the other team unexpectedly might not have found out. However, we probably wouldn’t have been allowed to participate even if our advisor hadn’t stopped us. The reason was plain and simple. Before the problem of gender, he was not up to the level of the regulars. Even in the girls’ team, Kanno was on the small side and he didn’t have the power.
This was a story from middle school. If the current Kanno dressed like a girl, he would definitely be found out immediately.
What about…his level then…?
My receive was deflected high up in the air, and Kanno jumped and knocked down the ball with one hand. It looked like his arms grew by about 1.5 times. I caught a glimpse of his navel from beneath the hem of his t-shirt that rose. The “rare bare skin.”
With a “Hoy,” Ayano sidestepped and went into cover. I couldn’t help but notice that her chest swayed with each action. Not just her chest, but she had also put on some meat on her upper arms and waist as well over the summer break. Ayano seemed to be the type to get fat easily, and when you took your eyes her for a second, she got rounder.
While Ayano was doing her best to chase after the ball with her short limbs, every single one of Kanno’s movements were relaxed and he seemed to be able to pull them off with ease. Since a while ago, I’ve been accumulating a noisy, scratchy something inside my body, something I didn’t even know what it was.
“Hey, hey, Ibara-chan, let’s put the middle school prefecturals aside. Dracky, I heard you were chosen as a starting member for Akitai?”
“What!?”
Even I was shocked at how loud my voice was reacting to the topic Ayano brought up. Kanno’s overhand serve slipped and he got a ball to his face. “Sorry!” Uselessly apologizing once again while pressing down his nose, he went to pick up the ball that had rolled away.
Akitai, a.k.a. the Autumn Tournament, was a prefectural tournament in early August, right in the middle of summer break even though it had “autumn” in its name. It was a one-off tournament, so the ticket to Nationals wasn’t hanging in the balance or anything, but it would be a big official summer game.
As mentioned before, the Monshiro Middle boy’s team was a tiny team that couldn’t participate in official matches properly. For Kanno, the days where he practiced with the girls’ team were probably more fulfilling than with his original boys’ team. Even without being in outside games, he acquired game experience from joining intra-team games (it goes without saying that the boys’ team didn’t even have enough people for intra-team games). In other words, Kanno was finally able to make his official game debut when he became a high school student.
I was going to congratulate him with a “Heh, congrats,” but,
“…Why didn’t you tell me?”
For some reason, what came out of my mouth was a biting and low voice.
“I’m, I’m sorry. There’s not a lot of people on the boys’ team…”
“Why are you making excuses for that?”
“I’m sorry…”
Kanno’s voice got smaller and smaller. He hung his head down so low that his forehead was touching the ball he was holding in front of his chest and peeked upwards to see my face. “Did, did I bring up an awkward topic?” Ayano’s face grew tight.
“Hey, I don’t want an apology. I’m asking you why you didn’t tell me. Don’t tell me you were trying to be considerate of me?”
The girls also had regular games in June and August, but I wasn’t even on the bench, much less a starting member. The girls’ team was a large group with thirty members, so it wasn’t surprising that the first-years couldn’t make the bench, since the second and third-years could fully cover the bench. However—at the August tournament, a first-year from another middle school was selected to be a bench member, which hurt my pride exceedingly. In middle school, I had participated in the Hokushin’etsu Tournament twice, so I was supposed to be the one who joined the team as the head of the rookies.
Beep, the manager senpai blew her whistle. Spiking practice was after passing practice. The team divided into two groups and scattered to both ends of the court.
“Oh, we have to move. Let’s go, Dracky, Ibara-chan.”
Ayano said, as if to mediate, then twined her arm around mine and pushed Kanno on the back. It grated on my nerves that Kanno blatantly let out a sigh of relief, but our senpai was glaring at our group who had stopped passing practice before the whistle blew, so we ran to the end of the line.
One by one, the first person in line passed the ball to the setter to have it set to them, and then ran in to spike it. After I ended one turn, I stared at Kanno’s form as he spiked after me while I returned to the back of the line again.
It wasn’t like he jumped very high, or that he had a lot of power. I just realized it again when I observed him. He wasn’t using his full power at all. The set was too low for Kanno, so he couldn’t swing his arm with all his strength. He could play at the boys’ height in an official game, so he should be able to jump even higher if he wanted to.
The height difference between the men’s and women’s nets was nineteen centimeters. While watching Ayano hit the ball next, I imagined another nineteen-centimeters of netting on top of the current net. Ayano’s butt, which had increased in mass than before summer vacation, swayed and dragged her body downwards. In my imagination, Ayano’s spike was completely blocked by the net.
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thefinalyeehaw · 3 years
Text
(Obey Me Fic) Deathly Hearts {Ch. 2 - The Great Mammon and the Third-born Brother}
The House of Lamentation was more refined from the usual image of an academy's dorm house. The entrance hall was a grand room; vaulted ceilings emphasized its vastness. The walls were luxuriously decorated with oil paintings and golden light fixtures. Two stone statues of dragons sat hunched over at the curve of the dual staircases as if to attack any unwelcome guest. The floor shined with a fresh layer of wax on the wood surface, a long, intricate runner stretched across the length of the shiny floor ending in another room beyond the grand hall. The rug looked to be recently laundered, definitely by the command of Lucifer.
"This is the House of Lamentation. It's one of the dorms here at R.A.D. Well, it's not JUST one of the dorms. It's the dorm reserved for student council members." Mammon's voice echoed as he strolled into the center of the hall. He gestured lazily around like a bored tour guide.
His fluffy white hair contrasted the dark colors of the entrance hall. Killian noticed a trend with the demonic brothers; all were extremely attractive. Mammon was a handsome demon with a slender yet athletic physique, his tan skin reminiscent of warm chocolate. His golden-blue eyes reminded her of gold and sapphire; a few necklaces she owned came to mind.
Before meeting Mammon, Mattie and Killian were introduced to three other brothers. First, there was Asmodeus, the fifth-born brother, beautiful with wavy champagne hair. The demon's orange eyes held a yellow gradient, reminiscent of a human world sunset. The fifth-born spoke with saccharine words and coquettish mannerism. However, the reaper wasn't blind to the way his gaze slid down her physique before shooting her an impish smile. Killian scoffed in response, quickly neutralizing her face when Diavolo looked at her quizzically. She knew Diavolo would ask her later about it. Fucking Great.
Next, the fourth-born Satan, devilishly handsome as Lucifer. Golden blond locks, reminding Killian of a particular bothersome angel, and smoldering green eyes, blurring into yellow, heavily contrasted the hall's gothic style. Killian grew unnerved as Satan spoke, sensing the unbridled rage concealed by the poise of a gentleman's demeanor. Unlike Asmodeus's seduction failures on Killian and Mattie, Satan's wrath was concerned, to say the less, for many reasons. Many included the safety of her and the human as she doubted the Avatar of Wrath was exceptionally patient with others. Since he greeted the reaper with the warmth of an iceberg.
Last was Beelzebub, the sixth-born brother. Standing the tallest of the other demons, except for Diavolo. A disinterested frown etched on the towering man's handsome face, violet eyes stared blankly at Mattie and Killian. Clear hints of muscles barely hidden underneath his rumpled uniform as Beelzebub shifted slightly. He spoke bluntly to them before complaining about his hunger to Lucifer, prompting a glare from the firstborn.
Although Killian would admit rooming with attractive demons for a year is a plus, to an extent. Honestly, she might have flirted a bit with Mammon or Satan if one wasn't so full of himself and the other being a ticking bomb of rage. The arrogance practically bleeds from Mammon's attitude from the moment he barged into the assembly hall, spewing useless threats and shooting glares at her and Mattie. But, of course, he is a totally insufferable bastard. Even better than Lucifer appointed him as the unofficial babysitter of her and Mattie as luck loved to fuck Killian over sometimes.
Mattie strolled further into the room, eyes twinkling at a stone dragon statue. They hovered a hand over the stone, fingers mimicking the curved designs on the dragon's chest. "So, I guess we are members of the student council, then." They awed. Killian smiled at the child-like curiosity on the human's face. "It seems like it. Although, oddly, mostly all of the council are brothers."
Mammon's face soured at the reaper's words, the second-born began to rant, "Lucifer, Asmo, and the others take every chance they can get to insult me. Callin' me scum, sayin' that I'm a money-grubber and stuff...but I'm an officer on the student council, same as them. The elite of the elite, the top of the R.A.D. social pyramid." Mattie and Killian exchanged looks as they watched as Mammon grew more riled, thriving the captive attention of two new members.
Mammon's gesticulation grew more dramatic as he became more impassioned with the speech of his sheer greatness, "In other words, I'm a big shot. A REAL big shot. Like, even regular big shots are impressed by what a big shot I am. So don't you go thinking that I'm just some ordinary demon. I'm nothing like those other peons walking the halls here!"
Killian grinned, "I doubt any of those 'peons' would dare to compare themselves to the great Mammon." Mattie hid a laugh behind their hand as Mammon puffed out his chest proudly. Apparently missing the sarcasm oozing from Killian's words as she studied a painting of an unsmiling couple dressed in Victorian attire.
"Exactly!" Mammon exclaimed, believing Killian's words as the human let out a snort behind him. The second-born cleared his throat "...Anyways, the long and short of it is that us seven brothers all live here together." He quickly summarized, his golden-blue eyes never leaving the emotionless porcelain mask as Killian turned around. "It's time I show you to your rooms. Follow me, and ya betta not get lost!" Swiftly pivoting on his feet, Mammon ascended up the left staircase. His stomps clicked against the marble steps.
Mattie hurriedly followed the demon up the stairs as Killian lagged behind; a bulletin board pinned to the wall against the second landing caught her attention. Although she was a princess, Killian enjoyed working. As a young reapling, Killian helped her nanny with simple tasks such as cooking and cleaning. As an adult, she performed countless jobs in the human realm, accumulating vast life experiences and skills. Maybe she'll ask Diavolo about part-time jobs in the Devildom when their first meeting is scheduled.
Unlike Mattie's tasks as a R.A.D. student, Killian's tasks included monthly meetings with Diavolo, a check-in on her progress in the Devildom. The prince's eyes shone as he cheerfully commented on how he looked forward to their sessions. It seemed he was suggesting the meetings were like a hang-out between old friends and not a conversation between a student and the headmaster of R.A.D. Not wanting to curb the prince's enthusiasm, Killian expressed how she also looked forward to it as Lucifer stared her down like a hawk.
"Hey, don't just stand there with your jaw open. Hurry up, or I'm gonna leave ya behind." Killian's eyes moved towards Mammon standing at the top of the staircase, arms crossed impatiently. "If there's something you wanna ask me, you'd best do it now," Killian snorted at the demon's growl.
Mammon acts like a snarling dog, but he becomes a meek puppy whenever someone bares their teeth at him. On the phone, the demon behaved imperious, dismissing any time she or Mattie brought up what Lucifer had told them as if he was an important king wasting precious time on peasants. After Mammon's audacity to shout through the phone, Killian's patience wore thin. She quickly figured out the Avatar of Greed had a cowardly side. He yelped when the reaper subtly threatened to rip his tongue from his body if he ever interrupted her again.
The slip of cowardice vanished quickly as Mammon regained his crass persona. Although she unintentionally wounded his ego, the drop gave insight into how Killian could handle Mammon if his overconfidence got out of hand again. "Nothing in particular. I just got lost in my head a bit, sorry," Killian flashed an apologetic smile, quickening her climb up the stairs.
Mammon eyed her, determining whether to question the reaper further. "Hmph...fine then." He grunted, not caring enough to pry. "Now, I'm gonna give you a piece of advice, so listen up. If you wanna survive even a day here in the Devildom, you'd better listen REAL close to what I'm about to say." Mammon stopped to turn towards the two exchange students.
Golden-blue eyes observed them, shifting between the two curious students. He leaned close if he was about to reveal a big secret. "If it ever looks like a demon is about to attack you…" Mammon's voice dropped low. Killian ignored the shiver down her spine at the huskiness.
"...run away. Either that or die," Mammon stated, drawing back to gauge the reactions. Mattie blinked, their eyebrows furrowed in sheer confusion, their mind progressing Mammon's advice.
"Huh?" They muttered under their breath as Killian raised an eyebrow.
"How about this? I vote for YOU to die, Mammon." A venomous voice hissed. The three turned as another demon stormed down the hallway towards them, orange-blue eyes glared daggers into the second-born.
"D'ah…! Levi…" Mammon paled, eyes widened in surprise like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. The second-born stiffly gestured to the fuming demon, failing to school his features. "Uh, l-listen up, human! This here is Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy. He's the oldest of us brothers." His voice slightly trembled.
Mammon coughed as a fake smile appeared on his face. "Since his name's sorta hard to say, you can just call him Levi!" He began to usher Mattie and Killian further down the corridor, trying to flee the anger of the third-born.
Levi's glare intensified. "Mammon, give me back my money. Then go crawl in a hole and die." He demanded, stomping closer to the white-haired demon. Unsurprisingly, Levi was just as attractive as his brothers, with fair skin that lacked any blemishes or scars. His indigo hair was styled nicely with sweeping bangs, framing his orange-purple eyes that glowered at Mammon.
Mammon winced under his brother's angry stare, "Come on, I told you I'd get it to you! I just need a little more time. … And you still want me to die even after I give it back? That's real harsh, Levi!" Need more time? Sounds like famous last words. Killian wasn't too surprised the Avatar of Greed was indebted to others.
The frown on Levi's face deepened, "You need a little more time? How much more?"
"A little more, okay?! A little more means a little more!" The second-born tried to reason, but to no avail.
"You've been telling me that for the last 200 years, Mammon." Levi shot back. Mattie made a choking sound while Killian let out a low whistle; that is a long time to wait for the money.
"Hey, no! It hasn't been 200 years! It's been 260! Get it right, Levi!" A pause of silence stretched as the three stared at Mammon in disbelief.
Killian let out a baffled sound, "Why would you correct him on that?" She couldn't believe Mammon actually corrected how many years he owned Levi's money. She must have offended Diavolo in the past, and now he was punishing her by making this idiot her guardian as revenge. Killian made a note to be more cordial to the prince during her stay. Maybe she and Mattie could upgrade to a more competent guide as a result.
Levi sighed at his brother's dumb remark, obviously used to Mammon's lack of filter. "Unbelievable. Seriously Mammon, you're-"
"I'm what? Scum? Is that what you're gonna say?" An unreadable emotion flashed in Mammon's eyes, frowning at Levi.
"-you're a lowlife and a waste of space." Levi continued to spew insults.
Mammon let an offended gasp, "Hey! Come on, that's even worse!"
"Whatever." Levi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms impatiently. "Just give me back my money. I need it to buy the Blu-ray box set of Journey to the Devildom: The Tale of a Little She-Devil and Her Reluctant Companion." His angry face slightly brightened at the mention of the show, "The initial round of copies includes promotional tickets to a live event as a special bonus."
Mammon huffed, growing frustrated with the conversation. "I've got no idea what you're even talking about, but it doesn't matter! Because I don't even have any money to give you. How am I supposed to give back money I don't have, huh?!"
"So then. You're telling me you refuse to pay me back?" The air in the room grew thicker as the tension built.
"...What? You looking for a fight, is that it?" The smirk on Mammon's face fueled the boiling tension as the air pulsed with solid auras. The situation was becoming increasingly dangerous. Demon fights were notoriously nasty to witness. Killian feared Mattie and her were about to get stuck in the crossfire of one.
"Mattie," Killian spoke low, catching the human's attention as they watched the brothers' bickering. "Stay behind me no matter what happens." She felt almost bad as Mattie flinched at her words. Their eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. With the potential of the bickering becoming a brawl, Killian knows she can easily defend herself if someone happens. Still, Mattie doesn't have the power to protect themself from something as brutal as a demon fight. Mattie said nothing as they quickly followed Killian's order, stepping behind the tall woman, partially hidden behind her slender frame.
Killian raised her right hand slightly, her thumb stroking the obsidian ring on her ring finger. She felt the familiar tingle of energy warming her arm as it swiftly spread through her body, ready to activate her scythe at a moment's notice.
As if sensing the mounting stress of the room, Mammon turned his attention to the two exchange students. Killian remained rigid, her arm raised to her chest with feet firmly planted to the carpeted floor. The porcelain mask was void of all expressions. Two piercing blue eyes glowed in the shadows of the eye slits, trained on the scene as if waiting for an opening to defend. Mattie stood semi-hidden behind the alert reaper, watching the scene, fear etched on their face as their frame slightly trembled.
"Listen, you two. You remember my advice from before about what to do when demons attack? Well. You're about to witness that for real. So…" Mammon inched backward, walking a bit further in the hallway. Killian's eyes widened at Mammon's flighty action, wasn't he about to—.
"Hold on. I thought your advice was to either run away or—damnit, Mammon! That ass...he ran off…!" Levi screeched furiously as Mammon sprinted down the empty corridor, vanishing past a sharp turn.
Mattie stumbled out from behind Killian, taking in a shaky breath as their eyes stared down the hallway where Mammon had once been. "What just happened?" Shock trembled in their voice, gawking at the fact the second-born had just ditched Killian and them at the first sign of trouble.
Killian heavily sighed as she relaxed her stand, rolling the tension out of her neck and shoulders. It wasn't indeed a surprise Mammon escaped at the first mention of conflict. She figured that the second-born brother was a coward. Rarely do cowards actually fight, usually fleeing as Mammon had done. "Do you realize what just happened? Mammon used you as a distraction to get away from me!" The third-born retorted as Levi glanced over to Killian and Mattie, irritated by his older brother's escape. "Or maybe I should say he used both of you as sacrifices."
"I think it is a little bit of both," Killian commented. However, she didn't appreciate the slight blame behind Levi's words as if they were naïve toddlers swindled for their candy.
Levi ignored the two as he rambled, "I'll admit that Mammon is one of the scummiest scumbags you'll ever meet...a total lowlife. But still, that was pretty dumb of both of you letting him use you like that."
"Excuse me?" Killian placed her hands on her hips, angrily gritting her teeth.
Levi was too ensnared to notice the increasing amount of magic slipping from the frustrated reaper as he chose to continue his rant. "This is EXACTLY why reapers and humans are—Wait a second. Humans....yes, that's it...Suddenly, I've got an idea." Levi turned towards Mattie; his face grew a focused expression as he studied the human.
"You know what? Never mind." Mattie yelped in surprise as Levi's hand reached out and grasped their wrist, tugging them deeper into the house's unknown bowels. "Either way, you're coming with me."
Levi let out a squawk, jumping as a warm hand gripped his wrist. "No. We're coming with you." Killian stated, smirking at the glare Levi shot in her direction. "We're both exchange students, guests in your house. It is rude to ignore a guest, right?" Slipping on a polite smile as she not-so-gently tugged Mattie from the third-born's grip.
Where the human goes, I go, remained unsaid, but the warning was apparent in the reaper's tone. Killian wasn't dumb enough to let Levi drag Mattie away, to allow a demon to carry a human away in unknown territory. If Mammon was any instance, it showed that the brothers weren't as reliable as Killian initially thought. It was already apparent the disinterest of some brothers towards both Mattie and Killian. She already wanted to punch Lucifer, and she hadn't even known him for a day!
"Well, yes...but no! I don't want to bring a bunch of normies to my room!"
She ignored whatever the fuck a 'normie' was supposed to as she shot back, "Then, tell us right there and right now. If it is revenge on Mammon, you can tell us. I doubt he will be for a long while." The straightening of Levi's back revealed his idea did involve revenge. Taken back, Levi muttered about 'stupid normies' as he tried to make a decision, fidgeting.
Mattie shot a concerned look to the reaper, who gently patted their shoulder in reassurance. Killian predicted it was up to her and Mattie to properly survive this year. Telling Diavolo would only make matters worse and just piss Lucifer off more if he had the demon prince breathing down his breath. Not to mention how complaining to Diavolo would only hurt her reputation further. She couldn't afford that, especially this early in the program.
Fuck, she wanted a cigarette.
Killian felt a buzzing in her pocket. She reached into her jean pocket to retrieve the vibrating D.D.D. There were four unread messages from Mammon.
Mammon: Heya, I suddenly remembered I have some business I gotta take of. So, if ya need something, just ask Levi.
Bullshit.
Killian scoffed at the winking demon emoji Mammon had sent. It was a blatant attempt to placate her after his vanishing act.
Mammon: Oh, and just to make sure... Don't go around tellin' stuff to Lucifer, ya got that?
He sent a glaring demon emoji, which Killian promptly sent back to Mammon. But, of course, she wasn't planning to tell Lucifer to begin with. She might be a royal, but Mammon being a cowardly bastard wasn't worth the energy for a conversation.
She smirked as Mammon quickly sent a nervously grimacing emoji back. Oh, she had an excellent idea as she tapped the keyboard.
Killian: Okay, I won't tell Lucifer.
Killian: But Mammon, the next time you put on that stunt, you won't have the chance to run.
Killian slipped the phone back into her pocket, ignoring the buzzing on her thigh. Glancing back up at Levi, she grinned. "So, what is your good idea?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I finally had the time and energy to edit this!!!
I hope you enjoy this chapter, please reblog and heart it if you want (constructive criticism is also appreciated!)
Stay in-tuned for the next chapter: How to train your Avatar of Greed (with blackmail).
Thank you!
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miss-tc-nova · 3 years
Text
Ursine Ire - Hermod x Fem!Reader
I’ve been dying to do something with Hermod and his temper, so here it is! And I think I’ve finally got my chaos in check for a while, so hopefully I can get another fic or two out before Christmas rolls around. Also, sorry this one feels a little more straightforward than most of my stuff. 
~~~~~
              I’m late! I’m so late! They’re gonna kill me!
              Feet hit the stone path as fast as I can manage without blindly running into innocent bystanders—though there were a few close calls.
              Today, my friends and I are off to see a production Vor and Urd have been demanding we all attend—I was supposed to meet them half an hour ago. Now I’m racing like a rabbit from a dog praying I don’t have to face the wrath of the female wielders.
              Rounding a corner, my heart, just like my foot, skips when I nearly collide with the crowd I’ve let down.
              An outstretched arm intercepts me before I can crash. “Woah! Slow down!”
              Hermod, my boyfriend and the reason I have a great group of new friends, pulls me upright. Steadied by my grip on his haori, I heave so hard my lungs might just fall on the concrete.
              “And here we thought you’d forgotten,” teases the red-head. When I can’t stop gasping, Bragi tacks on, “Geeze, I thought Eraqus was Tardy Fleetfoot.”
              Said ‘Fleetfoot’ leans down. “Are you okay?”
              One more breath gives me my voice back. “I’m so sorry I’m late! I was reading a book and I lost track of time! When I looked at the clock, I freaked out and ran all the way here! I’m so sorry!”
              Soft chuckling brings my attention to the young man with an arm still around me. “It’s alright. We’ve still got some time,” he chuckles. A dip of his head connects his lips to my forehead, washing over that anxiety with a sweet serenity.
              “Cut it out, you two,” Urd insists, clearly not pleased by my tardiness. My boyfriend leans back, still happy but with a tad bit of sheepish mixed in. “That time we have is not enough for you to make out. If we don’t get going, we’ll miss the show.”
              “It might already be sold out!” little blond Vor exclaims.
              “Then let’s get a move on,” urges the boy in black.
              The group agrees and scampers through the streets towards the theater. When we get there, we see the mass of people shuffling into the stadium.
              “Okay, Vor and I will get the tickets,” insists the taller girl, holding her hand out expectantly.
              The boys rifle through pockets, but when I notice Hermod doing the same, I take his sleeve.
              “I’m paying this time,” I say.
              “Oh, it’s alright. I don’t mind.”
              “I don’t care if you mind. You paid for the last date; it’s my turn.” His mouth opens to argue. “Don’t make me ask nicely.”
              As it so happens, my asking Hermod ‘nicely’ is actually giving him the best puppy eyes I can, letting my bottom lip slip forward just a little, and saying please. My poor teddy bear has yet to refine any resistance to this technique. Due to this unfair trump card, I reserve it for dire occasions but sometimes just its mention is enough to tilt things in my favor.
              Shoulders slouch. “Fine.”
              Victoriously smiling, I place a peck against his cheek and scurry after the girls. As we chat, a peculiar couple comes up behind us. The woman tears into the man about them not showing up on time—I kind of feel sorry for him. Even so, their conflict is so unbearably awkward that it completely silences the light-hearted conversation we’d been having. There’s only a single person in front of us, but they cannot move fast enough to get us away from this disaster. Thankfully, after Urd gets her batch of tickets, the man sends the woman away, leaving the queue in an uncomfortable silence.
              Vor grabs hers next and bustles away while I quickly purchase mine. About halfway between the ticket booth and my friends, a hand takes my shoulder: it’s the man.
              “Uh…can I help you?” I ask, disquiet quickly simmering in my gut.
              “Yeah, actually, you bought the last two tickets. Mind if I take them?” There’s not even a trace of politeness in his words—it’s more like a statement than a request.
              Eyes dart to the group gossiping not that far away. I point in their direction. “Actually, I’m here to see the show with my friends. Sorry.”
              Anger rivaling the woman’s snaps into place. “So what. They can tell you about it later. Give me those tickets!”
              Not exactly a fighter myself, I step back. As I do, he reaches for me.
              A flash of green swipes up, swatting the grasping hand away. My boyfriend has come to save me with suspicion written across his face.
              “Is there a problem here?”
              “It’s none of your business,” growls the man.
              Slate eyes turn on me and I tell him, “He wants our tickets.”
              “And you paid for them?” I nod. Ever polite, the young man says, “I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t have our tickets. Please excuse us.” He turns back to me. “Come on. The show’s starting.”
              Relief takes over too soon when a fist appears around my wrist. So tight is the grasp that my hand quavers and I’m certain there will be bruising. This sudden spike of pain draws a yelp from my mouth that the heckler doesn’t acknowledge as he jerks me closer.
              In the next instant, I’m free. In the same manner, a hand crushes the thug’s wrist. An existential dread rolls over me and the man seems to realize he’s made a mistake.  
              I’ve always described my soft Hermod as a bear: he’s the biggest sweetheart, always looking out for me, and as cuddly as one might expect. However, another reason my brain thinks of a bear when concerning my boyfriend is his rage. He has a saintly patience; it takes something truly serious to push him to anger—something like assaulting his girlfriend—and when he reaches that point, he is terrifying. I’ve only ever seen this one other time when he was having a truly miserable day. He apologized afterwards but I will never forget the fury he exhumed, almost as if he were another person. He is the embodiment of a bear, anger and all.
              “Hermod!” Vor shouts.
              “Hold on there, Brother Bear!” Bragi appears and places a hand on the threatening arm.
              “How dare you,” Hermod snarls lowly, ignoring his friends. Barely veiled violence hides in his eyes. “She is under no obligation to give you anything and her refusal to do so gives you no right to put your hands on her.” I see his grip tighten, bringing the assailant to his knees. “Now apologize.”
              There’s resistance but a further constricting grip accompanied by bared teeth coerce a response. “S-Sorry!”
              Hermod’s hold releases, signaling that his uncertain classmates can relax.
              “You’d do well to learn some manners,” growls the irate boy. With that, an arm gently ushers me away from the scene. Every bit of that tense anger can be felt in his shielding arm. Anxiety bubbles in my chest but I follow without fuss.
              Only a few steps away and the man shows us he’s learned nothing. A boot to the back of my knee messes up my balance. My elbow scrapes across the ground though I’m far more concerned with the ensuing roar. Peering back reveals a frenzied Hermod swinging his keyblade. The weapon strikes the man hard enough to send him across the clearing into a brick wall where he crumples to the ground. Only three straining boys stop the young man from resuming his rampage.
              “DON’T YOU FUCKING COME NEAR HER AGAIN!” My jaw drops—I’ve never heard Hermod utter a single curse word in all our time dating, even on his worst days.
              The girls dash for the downed man. Urd exclaims, “He’s out cold!”
              “I WILL DESTROY YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?!”
              “He can’t hear anything!” Xehanort shouts.
              “You got ‘im!” adds Bragi. “He’s done!”
              Their words fall on deaf ears as the fight to get at his foe floods Hermod’s mind. It’s frightening, far worse than the last time I saw him like this. If the others let him go, who knows what he’d do to that man—I can’t even guarantee murder would be off the table.
              As I watch the struggle, his name barely escapes my mouth. “Hermod.”
              Nothing changes; he’s still fighting—fighting to defend me.
              This is for me…
              Shoving off the ground, I rush to help the boys. Fists snag handfuls of the haori and push against his chest.
              “Hermod, stop! Please!”
              It all freezes; only heavy pants from the four boys breaks the silence. Almost afraid of what I might find, I peek up at my boyfriend’s face—it’s blank, like a chalkboard wiped clean. I don’t know if this makes me relieved or worried.
              Vor breaks the silence with an announcement. “Guys, he might need a doctor.”
              The wary boys release their classmate and Xehanort leans towards Bragi. “We’ll take care of the moron; you get these two someplace they can calm down.”
              “Good plan.” A palm to the chest pushes the impassive boy back. “Alright Brother Bear, let’s get outta here. You too, chickadee, come on.”
              Bragi steers the two of us down the street away from the mess we left. Silence stirs the distress I’d been boiling throughout the ordeal; I’m unable to stop ruminating on images of that fury.
              At the student dorms where the keyblade wielders train, our chaperone branches off. He leaves us in the entrance hall, still stifled in quiet, but returns rather quickly.
              “Yo, Hermod.” He shoves a box into the taller boy’s arms. “You might wanna patch up your girlfriend.”
              A light finally sparks in his eyes and Hermod turns on me. “Are you okay?”
              This is my Hermod and it’s almost alarming how this gentle giant could turn into something so vicious.
              “Yeah,” I mumble.
              That pain adds to my uncertainty, but it all goes out the window when my feet leave the ground. Too stunned to do anything about it, I let Hermod carry me through the halls of the student dorms; I do, however, flinch when his door flies open and closes with another slam. Hermod’s back hits the wall and he slumps to the floor, still clinging to me.
              “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into my shoulder.
              It takes a moment to gather my words. “That…That was pretty scary,” I whisper back.
              “I know and you deserve to be mad at me. I was out of line and I wasn’t thinking, but when he…”
              I already know why it happened, not that it makes it any better. Still, Hermod’s actions were for my sake; I don’t condone what he did but that man made it clear he wasn’t giving up without a fight. My boyfriend was protecting me.
              “Thank you.” Those slate eyes give me a perturbed look. I let the corners of my mouth turn up. “For sticking up for me.”
              Gods, I wanted to make him feel better, not add to that misery. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
              “I know.” I brush the hair from his face. “You’re such a sweetheart. But maybe next time we don’t knock someone unconscious with our keyblade.”
              He let’s a guilty sigh escape him, dropping his gaze. “I’m so sorry.”
              A finger leads his gaze back to me. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry I put you in that position.”
              Again, his face hides against me. “It’s not your fault.” Pushing him back, I take his face in my hands and raise a brow; he gets the hint. “But I forgive you.”
              “I love you, Hermod,” I say, running circles across his cheeks with my thumbs.
              There’s the smile I’ve been looking for. “I love you too.”
              Content with the response, I kiss him. It’s short but oh so sweet—they always are with Hermod. I’d spend hours on end kissing him if there weren’t other matters to attend to.
              “Hermod?”
              “Hmm?” It’s a dreamy, peaceful sort of hum.
              “Who taught you the F word?” My accusations are mostly in jest but the results are perfectly entertaining. My gentle teddy bear bursts into a blush and begins stammering like a fool. “It was Bragi, wasn’t it?”
              “I—I—you—wh—”
              “I’m only teasing,” I sing, pinching at his cheeks. “Now fix my elbow please.”
              This vexed sigh comes with an adoring smile as he reaches for the first aid kit.
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dyde21 · 5 years
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Soul Eater: Height
So @azroazizah made some incredibly cute freaking art for Soul and Maka and that really inspired me to try and write for them again. It’s been years, but they were originally the OTP I wrote for first. This came out kind of short, but they gave me a cute prompt that I wanted to try and fill! I hope you enjoy! It’s based off this drawing by them HERE
XxXxXxXxX
Maka let out a huff as she scooted back into the corner of the couch a little more, hiding her face behind her book. She was glaring at her boyfriend Soul as he was currently rummaging in the kitchen for food. He was in just a pair of sweats, freshly out of the shower as he was on his toes slightly, reaching to the back of the top shelf. Now Maka wasn’t complaining about his attire, living together for so long meant she was rather accustomed to the pleasant view. But it was the fact he was reaching the top shelf with relative ease.
Why was he so damn tall? 
They had met when they were both young, they were both about the same height. She had gotten used to that and enjoyed it. She liked feeling equal with Soul. They were partners, and they balanced each other out. 
But then… that happened. Puberty had hit him like a truck eventually and he just kept growing. The change hadn’t been too fast, it had taken her a while to realize just how big of distance there was starting to be between them. Whether it was him complaining that his pants didn’t fit him anymore, or that she kept finding things placed on shelves that she couldn’t easily reach and he wasn’t doing it intentionally. Sure, puberty had hit her too. She was a little curvier, which she was thankful for, and a little taller. But it had apparently only gave her a passing glance. She had stopped growing while she swore Soul was still getting a little taller every once in a while. 
“Soul?”
“Hm?” He asked, turning around as he scratched the back of his head, an apple in his mouth. 
Maka’s eyes trailed up and down his annoyingly tall body for a moment before she sighed. “Do you think I’m still growing?” She asked, not really caring that he probably didn’t understand where she was coming from with that question out of the blue. 
He looked at her for a moment. “Maybe? You’ve grown pretty nicely though in my opinion.” He offered, glancing at her. “Didn’t you say you your bra size is bi-” He let out a gasp of pain as her book collided with his head with a dangerous precision. He leaned back against the counter, rubbing his head and cursing her. 
“That’s not what I meant.” She muttered, blushing slightly as she looked away. “Then what?” He asked, patiently walking over to hand her her book back.
She shrugged. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid.” She countered.
He let out a sigh, muttering something about her being uncool. “I’m hungry and we don’t really have anything. Let’s go out for dinner.” He offered, looking at her patiently.
With a sigh, she nodded and stood up. “Fine. You can buy me dinner tonight.” She said, putting her book away.
“What? Now hold on, I didn’t say…” 
“Shush. We wanna go before the lines get long. Now go get dressed.” She countered, shoving him gently towards his room as he just walked away, muttering about crazy questions and crazy girlfriends. 
While Maka gathered her stuff, she smiled to herself. It wasn’t lost on her that Soul was trying to get her out of the house because he was worried she was upset. She knew all his tricks pretty well by now. Especially when they had gone shopping yesterday and picked up all the snacks he usually loved eating.
Standing in the mirror, she adjusted her hair a little bit. It was just a casual outing, but she did still want to look nice for him. 
When he left his room, she felt her heart flutter a bit. He was looking cool, as usual. He could always clean up so nicely. While others may have thought he was super casual about it, Maka knew he did actually try hard to look nice. His secret was just pretending he didn’t. 
“Ready?” He asked, sliding his wallet into his back pocket.
“Mhmm.” She said happily as they left, climbing on his bike. 
As they rode down the street, Maka had her arms wrapped around his waist. She noticed she could see a lot less now. She used to be able to see around him pretty easily, but his back had gotten so broad. It also felt a little firmer, he had definitely buffed up a bit since his more scrawny days of youth. 
Looking down at herself, she frowned slightly. Had she really changed like he had? Some days it didn’t feel like. Especially when next to girls like Blair or Tsubaki. Hugging him a little tighter as they drove, she forced those thoughts out of her head. Jealousy wasn’t healthy. Soul loved her, he had proved that many times by now. He was just a little bigger now.
They eventually got to their usual pizza place, and she approached the door. Soul’s arm reached out, holding it open when she opened it and noticed his arm was comfortably above her head. She hurried in, standing in line as she tried to figure out what she wanted. Maybe she was just hungry. She didn’t normally how tall he was. 
“So-” She was about to ask him if he had decided what he wanted, going to take a step back when she collided with him. He budged slightly, but when she looked up, she saw him gazing down at her with his crooked smile. “Careful.” He warned, wrapping an arm over her shoulder and kissing the top of her head.
Maka realized two things. One, that she barely reached his shoulders now. The second was that she felt safe. While he always made her feel safe when he was around, even in the midst of combat, something about his height made her want to lean a little closer into him. 
“You’re tall.” She muttered, without really thinking about it too much. 
Soul glanced down at her. “Huh? I guess.” He said, scratching the back of his head nervously. “It’s kinda lame, I know. Nothing fits right, and I’m all lanky now.” He confessed, pouting slightly as he looked away. 
Maka’s mouth just opened slightly as she stared at him. He didn’t like being tall? 
Before she cold refute him, the cashier cleared her throat and Maka realized they had been next for a little while. Blushing, she quickly stepped forward and dragged Soul with her, ordering the first thing she saw. They paid quickly, leaving a tip for good measure before they backed up to go sit at a table. Maka buried her face in her hands, hating how spacy she was today. She should be past this by now. 
Soul was still looking out the window, resting his chin in his hand. He had a slight pout on his features and Maka felt a frown creep on her face. Was he really bothered about what he said earlier.
“I’m jealous that you’re tall, you know?” She said after the food had been delivered and he still hadn’t said anything.
He paused mid-bite looking over at her. “Why?” He asked, before chewing. 
“Cause you look older and mature. You look even cooler now.” She confessed, resting her cheek on her hand for a moment. “You’ve really grown into yourself.”
Soul just stared at her, slowly chewing. “Maybe. But you didn’t get all lanky. You guys got hotter.” He admitted. “You grew up too, just in a more refined way. Trust me.” He admitted, blushing slightly and looking away. 
Maka also felt her cheeks flush at the compliment, not knowing Soul to be that direct that often.
The rest of their pizza date was a little brighter, in Maka’s opinion. They spent more time laughing, and Soul kept nudging her foot under the table, until it turned into an all out kicking war that earned some kicks but had them both laughing. 
Eventually their little mini-date ended and they found themselves back at the apartment as night fell. They were cuddled up, watching a movie on TV. Soul kept dozing off, but she didn’t mind. His arms were wrapped around her, pulling her tight against his chest and she could feel the rise and fall of his chest. It wasn’t the first time they had spooned by any stretch of the imagination, but she realized how well felt felt against him. His presence was like a warm blanket, keeping her safe as she snuggled a little closer. She managed to turn down the volume of the movie, moments before her eyes slid shut and she fell asleep safe in her boyfriend’s arms. Maybe him getting a little taller wasn’t such a bad thing.
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Sweet! I want to commission you for a story then. I was hoping for Rhackothy for the pairing, and this is the prompt: Jack/Tim does something impressive with their hands (cooking/gun skills/something) and Rhys notices. And then obsesses. And then is basically thirsty for their hands on him. But Jack and Tim don’t notice, (or Jack doesn’t notice at first but then catches on and starts messing with Rhys?) because they are both super busy until Rhys just finally snaps and gets what he wants.
This labeled as A Curse and a Blessing. Also on my ao3 here. I had so so much fun writing this, I had to go 2 chapters xD  See that post for all relevant tags and shit woo!! My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.
There were certain privileges to being Handsome Jack’s personal assistant, Rhys found.
The obvious things like a bigger paycheck, a nicer apartment, and bragging rights were a fun novelty that he’d quickly gotten used to. Access to executive-level information, tech upgrades, and the power that went with having Handsome Jack’s ear were among the nicer benefits that still gave him a rush over a year later.
And right now— with his cybernetic arm laying palm-up on Jack’s desk- the CEO himself was performing a delicate upgrade to Rhys’ hardware. The special attention got his blood pumping quicker for more than a few reasons.
Jack’s attitude was very much like his body: large and in charge. But while the older man might’ve enjoyed strangling the life from especial-idiots with his bare hands, he also had more refined skills. The spectrum of things Jack could do with his hands wasn’t exactly new to Rhys, but having Jack’s deep in the circuitry and wires of his forearm brought a whole new level of understanding, and with it, fantasy.
The delicate machinery and circuits inside of Rhys’ arm were handled with utmost care as the CEO manipulated the tech. Jack knew how to be careful, just like he knew how to effectively snuff out life. That Rhys was on the end of the ‘care’ spectrum definitely had him inwardly-preening, and it got his brain applying Jack’s particular handiness to other scenarios in his mind.
“Hand me that screwdriver, pumpkin,” Jack said flatly as he was focused on a wire inside his arm. This was one of the few times Jack ever wore glasses, his usual frenetic-energy centered on working with surgical precision. It wasn’t helping Rhys pay attention, rather lending more fodder to his less-than-pure daydreams about his boss.
Jack had his free hand open expectantly to Rhys as he kept his attention on the inner-mechanisms of the cybernetics. His other hand was carefully maneuvering a small purple wire around a coil with a pair of grounded tweezers, moving to see from different angles. The area the CEO was working in was delicate indeed, and if Jack really wanted to, he could cause some real damage and considerable pain without even trying (Rhys had hurt himself quite a few times tinkering).
Frankly, Rhys was impressed by Jack’s technical skills being put to use.
Those bigs hands of Jack’s had strangled more than a few necks in Rhys’ presence, and the violence he was capable of was legendary in fact and fiction. But the sheer control the older man had— the skill needed for the upgrades- made Rhys’ pulse race. Not out of fear, but of excitement.
Hands as big as Jack’s shouldn’t be able to be so careful with him. They were strong hands meant for violence. Jack’s particular brand of violence was always so messy, but this… Well… The PA found Jack’s competence distractingly attractive.
Rhys passed the screwdriver and let his mind wander further as he absently observed, watching Jack expertly manipulate the other tools in his hand. He wondered what else those skilled fingers might be capable of if put to better use. The CEO had already made a few jokes about Rhys ‘letting him put some fingers in him’, and while Rhys had rolled his eyes, it certainly gave him something to think about.
Jack was making a voluntary-override for Rhys’ surge-protection, the idea being that the younger man could store a burst of energy in his arm for later use; enough to direct an electrical-current from his fingertips.
While the idea of finger-guns being brought to a brand new level was amusing in of itself, the very-real issue of Rhys being kidnapped or taken hostage— due to his relationship to Hyperion’s CEO- only made the shock-delivery system make sense. It would only be a single shock, maybe two, but enough to bring down a potential kidnapper, and essentially a weapon that wouldn’t be detected in meetings with rival companies.
There were a few minor calibrations Jack had to do, and a few more adjustments in directing the electrical flow inside Rhys’ palm circuitry to his ring- and middle-fingers. Jack held the back of Rhys’ palm in his own while he worked, the CEO’s hand dwarfing Rhys’ cybernetic one as he cupped it.
It didn’t take much at all to imagine what it might be like if Jack curled his fingers to entwine them with Rhys’ own. The innocence of a hand-holding fantasy quickly switching up to the visualization of Jack’s larger hand pressing his into sheets. It was easy to imagine as Jack moved his hand as he worked, the firm grasp feeding back through his arm’s sensitivity receptors.
He bit his lip to bring himself back to reality, and they tested out the connections before Jack eventually closed up the paneling, and Rhys went home for the day.
Rhys was… maybe a little embarrassed that his front door was barely closed before he was palming himself on the way to the shower. He couldn’t take the thought from his mind of Jack’s large hands being put to better use on other parts of his body.
Rhys knew Jack’s hands well. The breadth of them, the general size. Especially after watching him all afternoon up close and mentally fighting the half-chub in his pants. They’d fit good around his waist. Probably be able to cup his entire ass in both hands. What would it feel like to have Jack’s warm, large hands sliding up his inner thigh? Or to feel one of those palms cupping his throat without intent to kill?
Rhys cleaned himself off in the shower with minor shame, figuring to put things out of his head as he knew Jack, and this level of infatuation after working for him so long already was ridiculous.
He couldn’t stop his dreams though, and the visions of Jack’s hands on his body— holding him, pinning him, touching him- assaulted Rhys throughout the night.
Suffice it to say, he didn’t get any rest that night, and he woke up in ruined sheets and a sense of agitation that kept him on-edge all weekend.
“I got you one of those caramel-foam things since you didn’t answer any of my messages,” Rhys spouted off early Monday morning as he walked into their shared office, the CEO sitting at his desk as the younger man strode in with coffee for the both of them. “And they were out of cheese bagels. We’ll have to order something in later.”
As he got closer, Rhys realized it wasn’t Jack in his seat, but Tim— the man’s body-double and sometime stand-in- and he pulled up short at his misplaced snarking. “Oh, hey! Sorry, I, uh… ha ha… thought uh….” He looked at his hands, coffee in each. It was clear who he’d thought Tim was. “Well. Would you like a coffee?”
Tim snorted as Rhys offered up the sweet concoction he’d brought for Jack, the man making a few noises of gratitude as he took a careful sip. “That is way better than the crappy instant I had this morning,” Tim said with a smirk. “Jack’s not coming in today. Obviously.”
“Sleeping-in or hungover?” Rhys prompted with a grin, sipping from his own cup as Tim chuckled and laughed as he confirmed that, yes, Jack was hungover or something, but he wasn’t even on the station right now. Probably still sleeping off the meeting-turned-party that had gone very well on Elpis.
Tim took another sip of the coffee as Rhys put his stuff away at his desk. His voice was just like Jack’s, but there was something always just a bit softer there when they were alone in the office. Tim took another sip of the sweet concoction before speaking again: “I think there’s the one echo-meeting he wanted me to do on video for payroll, but what else is on the roster for today?”
Rhys easily opened up the display of Jack’s schedule on his palm, quickly opening to the date with his echoeye and scanning through the day’s lackluster agenda. “Yeah, there’s a few things, but most of it’s just signatures and stuff or quick calls.” Rhys frowned to himself. “…he could’ve just given us both the day off too…”
Tim made an annoyed sound that Rhys agreed with wholeheartedly.
“Oh! Yeah-” Rhys began suddenly in idea, “did Jack tell you about the upgrade he did to my arm?”
A smile spread across Tim’s face. “He did, yeah, but I didn’t wanna be nosey… Is it cool?”
Rhys smirked. The differences between the CEO and his body-double were obvious if you only paid attention, and as handsome as the namesake, Rhys was indeed paying close attention. “Well… You wanna see how it works?
They ordered-in for lunch after the novelty of playing with Rhys’ new finger-gun wore off; noodles and vegetables and sweet and spicy chicken. Rhys used a fork to eat his while Tim expertly ate with chopsticks like it was nothing. His smoothness was enough for Rhys to comment on as they were settled in eating together at Jack’s desk.
“How’d you get so good at that?”
“A’ wha’?” Tim asked before swallowing, making Rhys smirk.
“That,” Rhys said, motioning with his fork.
“What? Chopsticks?”
“Yeah.”
“A lot of long nights eating take-out while studying in college.”
He made a show out of smoothly picking up a piece of chicken and popping it in his mouth in one completely-natural motion. Rhys couldn’t manage that type of finesse if his life was on the line.
Tim smirked and continued eating, maybe showing off a bit as it was clear Rhys was still watching. Rhys felt a mildly-excited chill go up his spine, followed by an aroused sense of shame as he realized that Tim must be just as good with his hands as Jack was knowing the CEO’s standards, and while they might be identical physically as far as Rhys knew, he’d never considered their less-showy skills might align as well.
Rhys was already scheming as thoughts of big hands on him invaded his mind, and he knew he wasn’t going to forgive himself– nor stop himself- from taking advantage of a perfect opportunity to have those identical hands on him again.
Rhys put down his fork and looked at Tim as innocently as he could otherwise pretend. “Can you show me how?”
Tim’s brows raised, and the curious expression there looked so amusingly out of place on ‘Jack’s’ face that Rhys almost wanted to laugh.
Tim sat up and dug out the other pair of chopsticks from the takeaway bag, and he moved Jack’s huge yellow chair to sit closer to Rhys to demonstrate.
“Okay, so eventually, you want to hold them like this,” Tim presented his own chopsticks in repose between his fingers. “If you do this-” Tim moved the position of the utensils, “you lose the strength at the bottom to hold anything with. If you do this-” Tim moved them again, far lower, “your hand is going to get tired and sore before you’ve even started.”
“Tell me about it…” Rhys muttered, then blushed at Tim’s laughter. He quickly got back on topic, doubling down and pursuing what he expected to be a hands-on lesson. “Okay, okay. So down the middle or whatever. Am I holding them right?” He hoped he wasn’t. He was counting on it. He ignored the thing inside him that told him he was dirty, and greatly enjoyed Tim’s hands on his own correcting the hold. Inwardly he complained when Tim fixed it and removed himself, and asked Rhys to try to pick up a piece of chicken.
While momentarily distracted by his dastardly plans to have Tim put his hands back on him, Rhys did want to actually look good, but he didn’t manage much. Tim insisted he try again, and Rhys deflected by opening his palm and asking where the chopsticks should be making contact with his skin, or if he was using the right finger muscles (did fingers even have muscles?) Rhys sure didn’t care as he made his own excuses.
“Like, let me show you what I mean, I don’t know what it’s called,” Rhys said as confidently as he could and willing away his telling blush as he took Tim’s hand and opened the palm. He shamelessly traced the inside of Tim’s hand with his thumb, asking if the ‘muscle-thing’ was supposed to touch here, or here, and should he feel the pressure of doing it right from this side of his palm or that as he traced along?
Rhys kept his eyes on Tim’s hand— not daring to meet his gaze in case Tim realized what Rhys was up to- and Tim patiently explained what parts of his hand he should be using to make the best hold, and he put them back in Rhys’ hand and had him try again.
Had Rhys not been successful this time, he was pretty sure that Tim might’ve caught him out on his ulterior motives. But he managed to pick up a piece of chicken and get it to his mouth, and for that, Tim gripped his flesh arm in an excited touch of congratulations and praised that he was a fast learner.
Rhys used the excuse of ‘practicing’ to finish his lunch with chopsticks instead of a fork, even though Tim gently teased that it would take him twice as long to finish.
That, Tim didn’t know, was the whole idea. Rhys was half-stiff in his pants as he sat there. Unnoticeable, unless he got up, but he had to admit that maybe indulging in Tim’s hands on his own– after sleepless nights dreaming of those same hands, only Jack’s, all over his body- maybe wasn’t the best idea. The half-realized boner was his punishment for indulging himself.
By the time lunch was done, he was safely able to return to his own desk and continue boring secretarial work that could’ve been done at home while Tim did much the same. He didn’t think Tim caught the interested looks he gave him as they finished off the work day, but as far as his psyche was concerned, he wasn’t going to get any rest anytime soon.
Jack had been in and out of the office all week, and Tim stood in more often than not for the random video call needing the CEO’s face.
Between Jack’s sudden interest in cleaning his gun at his desk when he was present, and take-out meals with Tim when Jack wasn’t, Rhys was in a hell of his own making.
The PA had been certain he was being punished by galactic karma for his dirty thoughts about Jack’s hands on him, and for the shameless touching of Tim’s own a week prior. Rhys didn’t know if he was just conscious of taking notice now, or if his fantasies had gotten just that deep under his skin, but it was like he could focus on nothing but the strength and dexterity in Jack and Tim’s respective hands.
And it only snowballed from there.
Jack became rather insistent— after Rhys’ denials of any ability- that his PA know proper gun maintenance, which then lead to an intensive lesson in structure as Jack expertly took the weapon apart, and put it into Rhys’ own hands to make him learn to properly put it back together, he’d said. Jack was already a touchy-feely type of guy, and Rhys credited sheer force of will for not outwardly-blushing as Jack moved his hands freely about Rhys’ person in his teaching. The touches were peppered with all the usual familiarity and innuendo Jack normally used with the younger man, but whatever desensitization Rhys had developed in a year working for the older man was raw and easily-excited again.
Jack would probably never let Rhys live it down if he knew he was actually hitting the mark, and Rhys had been trying to fight a hard-on the entire ‘lesson’. While it gave him more wank-material to pull into his fantasies, it wasn’t exactly lending to his quality of sleep.
Tim had stood in for Jack a few days that same week, and it was like the PA couldn’t catch a break with him either.
Tim and Rhys had gotten noodles for take-out again— so Rhys could practice, Tim pressed- and the gentle encouragement and demonstrations not only made Rhys’ chopstick skills better, but they fully aggravated his rekindled obsession for his boss and his body double.
And after that trying week, that was how— after not being properly laid in months, and fueled with more than enough reality-based fantasies in his mind- Rhys had been absolutely going to town on himself in the shower, using both hands, and toys, as he fucked and jerked himself off.
And right as he’d been enthusiastically working the Master Handsome 5000 into himself, flesh hand drifting down to tug at his cock in earnest, the worst damn thing had happened.
“The whole arm’s dead, Jack,” Rhys hissed agitatedly into his comm. He was pulling on clothes as he spoke, a long week of sleepless nights and ruined sheets making his mood go from bad to worse.
He hadn’t even gotten to come when his arm had suddenly gone dead, and the panic had been real enough to kill his hard-on.
And now all that pent-up frustration and arousal was being used to fuel his anger.
“Your arm’s dead?” Jack repeated nonchalantly. “Like, you can’t move it, or—”
“As in no movement at all,” Rhys snapped, then cleared his throat a little. He took a breath as he realized that Jack was still his boss, and he was asking him for help and probably shouldn’t be snapping at him… even if it was probably Jack’s own tinkering that had caused it, and thus in relation, was to be blamed for his current lack of orgasms. “It was fine, but then—”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, babe,” Jack spoke into the comm like it was nothing. “Come on over and I’ll fix it for you.”
Rhys opened his mouth to say something back to that blasé tone, and then thought better of it as his exhausted mind quickly whiplashed him from thoughts of anger and resentment back into the morally-ambiguous territory of recent arousal. “…at the office?” he asked far more calmly than he felt.
“Nah, I’m already home. Got everything to make-do here.”
The anger came right back. “Jack…”
Rhys bristled at the thought of ‘making-do’, and things getting further screwed up inside his cybernetics. He was already frustrated that he’d gotten no rest all week due to filthy dreams about large, warm hands all over his body, and to top it all off, now he couldn’t even get off. Not in the way he really needed, anyways.
Jack’s own tone shifted, and something in it made Rhys’ mood shift as well.
“I can fix it, okay?” The exasperation in the older man’s voice was only shadowed by the confidence there; the promise to make it better under the tone asking for his trust.
Rhys sighed. “…Really?”
“You betcha,” Jack promised, the smirk evident over the comm. “Come on up, cupcake. I’ll leave the door unlocked for ya.”
Chapter 2 will be found at my ao3 :)
kofi | ao3 | commission ‘info’
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No Place Like Home 💜
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Dedicated to @marvelpotterlove 💜 This was a 5 part series, but I extended it to 6.. and now I'm extending it again with this epilogue long after the fact but @amethyst1993 made me wanna do it so here we go.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
•▪• ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ •▪• ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ •▪•
Epilogue: Happy New Year
December 31st began with waking up in a California king with a California king as sun rays streamed through stark white curtains onto the bed to illuminate his scar-riddled skin a brilliant gold. The best part about the peaceful moment was that it was not an anomaly. The same angelic image of him could be seen any given morning after a devilish night with him at his place and it was forever burned into your memory. You watched silently as his eyes blinked open and adjusted peeacefully on yours. No words were needed. With a lighthearted smile, you dipped your head under the sheet and grabbed his morning wood in your hand, trailing your lips up and down the shaft. Your tongue happily followed the same path as he turned laying fully on his back.
"That lip balm is the truth," he groaned, voice almost as deep as your affection for him. You smiled into the vein running lengthwise up his stiffness, silently sighing a small laugh and he twitched in your hand. Since you'd bought both of you your own tubes of Beekman's Pure Goat Milk Lipbalm, he'd been using his nonstop and noticing just how soft it made his lips. He swore yours were softer too, like silken rose petals, although you'd been using the stuff. Sticking your blanket covered butt in the air, you enveloped him in your mouth, sucking gently on the head. You could taste his precum as it mixed with your spit and you let it drool back onto him, twisting your hands around his shaft. You took it slow, with neither of you having anywhere else more important to be. Slowly and passionately, you channeled all of your lust into the soft cushions of your lips. You could hear him exhale short gusts of air and swallow. His hands felt on your shoulders and when he pulled the blanket off of you, you looked up at him.. feeling him twitch in your mouth. Your hands traveled up his abs and rubbed all over his chest before you popped him out of your mouth and rubbed him all over your face, getting messy. You slapped him gently against your cheek and when you sucked him again, he groaned deeply. "Where you want it, baby?" When you didn't release him, sucking more vigorously instead he knew the answer and he came with a final twitch and slight jerk of the hips. You made sure to swallow every drop. "You.. are perfect," he sighed watching you with wide eyes. He was completely enamored and the thought made your head swim with elation. "Come here," he whispered curling his fingers in a matching hand motion. You wiggled up to kiss him before he guided you onto your back and kissed from your lips to your neck to your navel. "My turn," he said huskily, making himself comfortable as if he planned to be down there a while. Three and a half hours was the current record and that was because you were marathoning Brooklyn 99 when it happened that one time.
Brunch was prepared by a shirtless Erik and you made sure to watch carefully as he wrapped scallops with brown-sugared bacon and cut up smoked salmon, arranging it neatly over capers, eggs, onion, and a toasted baguette. He then moved onto a pasta dish. It was elegant and picture perfect and his signature cocktail was the perfect complement. You cut up the fruit, set the table, and washed dishes as a contribution and after the food, you kissed Erik goodbye and promised to be ready at 7:20 PM for your date.
---
Ang sat on your bed while you got dressed telling you about how drastically her older brother's veneers changed his look and now he might get married now. "He used to say hook me up with one of your friends," she copied in a deep voice that made you shake your head with a grin. Somehow she looked as sounded like him when she did that. "..And I'd tell him no because he's ugly.. and he was!"
"Oh I remember," you scoff and she shows you his glowup on her phone. "Oh yeah, he'll be married by next year if that's what he truly wants. He looks good."
"I'm not telling his bighead that.. and you! So you didn't try to work at all today, whaaat? That beautiful man has turned you out and I'm here FOR it, child," Ang waved her hand in the air with a sip from her wine glass.
"It's New Year's Eve, Ang! I don't typically work on New Y--" You couldn't contain it, your snicker sprung free from your gut as she stared through you calling out the lie with her eyes. Once you cracked, she did too giggling with you. If Erik weren't in the picture, you'd be working right now or thinking about it. "Oh wait! I have your New Year's gift," you jump, shuffling to your closet. "For you, my darling." You hand her a shiny blue gift bag and her lip curves into a happy pout.
"Awwww," she fawns pulling out the Coach scarf and matching leather gloves. "I would say you didn't have to--"
"BUT I DID," you yell with a knowing smile, finishing the sentence with her in unison.
"I've got your gift in the car! I'll go get it hold on," she grins. Your phone buzzes and when you check it, it's Jamira. Ang stops short so you pass it to her and she rolls her eyes at the name on the screen, typing a response.
"What.. do.. you.. want.. tacky little girl," she says slowly, typing it out. "I still don't like that mousey bitch or her tangled ass wig," she mutters crossing her arms flippantly, the phone dropping to the bed.
"I'm just glad she finally got from up under my mama's toxic ass and went and got some business," you say twirling in the brand new white dress you purchased for your date. It had a flowy mid-thigh length a-line skirt, a ruffled sheer hem, sheer long sleeves, and deep v-neck cleavage. You paired it with white pumps, a silver necklace with a diamond pendant, and diamond stud earrings. "Crazy what space and self-reflection can do for a person."
"You're better than me. I wouldn't care about her little transformation. Transform these hands, little Yoda."
The shift in your family structure was something serious. You heard through the grapevine that your stepdad passed, but you didn't so much as call let alone go to the funeral. You were grown and he'd had years to develop a relationship with you.. but he chose not to.. so you didn't feel bad about your decision in the least. You didn't comment on the Facebook posts and videos. You didn't send any condolences. Shortly after, you learned that Jamira left the city and relocated to New Jersey.
The phone rings this time and you both stare at it, letting it ring. "Answer it," you say finally and with a long groan Ang picks it up, putting it on speaker.
"WHAT... little girl," she sighs.
"Can I speak to my sister."
"WHAT? LITTLE GIRL," you repeat.
"Y/N.. I wanted to call you to say... I'm sorry.." she pauses and you exchange bewildered expressions with Ang.
"I don't give the fuck," Ang mouths and you chuckle silently listening to hear what comes next.
"I was a bitch and mom is still a bitch. I don't know why I was so bad to you.. Well no, I do know. I was angry at you because you had this huge plan like you just knew you were gonna be hot shit and then you left and I thought you'd come right back after you failed but then you didn't and I kept waiting for you to fall on your face. We all did, but you never came back and then you'd send money like you were rubbing it in our faces. You always had everything, like you were above us all. I hated you, or I thought I did.. In reality, I hated myself and I see that now too. Sooo.. Instead of hating you, I've decided to try and make my life something closer to the life I want. I just wanted to tell you that."
You stare at Ang and she stares back, her wide eyes matching yours. You're lost for words.
"Thank you for calling to tell me," you finally say calmly, unsure of how to respond. You aren't sure you're ready to wipe years under the rug just yet. "If you want to call me to talk from time to time.. you can," you add.
"I will," she says and when you hang up, you and Ang both let out a long sigh.
"I need a drink now," you laugh pouring yourself a bit more wine.
---
When Erik picks you up in his black NSX, he's looking sharp in his tailored deep navy and black suit. You can tell he got a fresh haircut to clean up around his locs and you smile reaching to touch it. "Well look at you," Ang yells from the door, heading to her car with her Coach goodies. The day was definitely all about elegance and refinement, you note gleefully as he hands you a beautiful bouquet of red and white flowers. "You know about flowers," he asks. You chuckle shaking your head. You hadn't a clue about them except that they were pretty and you were glad to get anything from him.
"Red carnations and white chrysanthemums," he points. "The red means love, pride, and admiration because I admire the way you handle yourself and persevere by any means necessary. The white means truth and loyalty.. and the ring in the middle," he points again watching your eyes grow wide at the princess cut yellow sapphire set in white gold. "..This is a promise ring," he smiles, silver fangs gleaming. "It says I promise to always support you, be there for you, and available to you. You're strong and you've only gotten stronger since we've been together. I've gotten stronger. Better. I don't know what forever looks like, or fuck it, next year honestly. But one day at a time, I think we can do this.. What you think?"
"...Yeah," you nod meekly and laugh, your feelings beginning to overflow. You pick up the ring and he helps slide it on. You can feel a tear slip down your cheek and it's not even a proposal.
"How's my gift supposed to compare to that," Ang pouts playfully revealing a silver bag.
"So you just gone ruin my moment? I had her crying tears of joy," Erik stresses in a brag like the moment he'd created was a woven masterpiece.
"Hush, prettyboy." Ang playfully bumps him out of the way and he steps back. She puts the bag in your hands and as soon as you try to look in it, she grabs it back with a mischievous smile. "I put something in there for him too. Happy New Year!I'm putting this in your living room. Look through it later, okay. For now, you two go have fun" she says dancing toward the house, locking the door and returning your keys. You don't stop her because you know she has plans for the night as well.
---
In the car, you told Erik about your sister's call. His response was to leave the decision up to you as to whether you would forgive her or keep contact with her. "You're the only one who can decide if you are or will ever be ready for that," he said simply. "Just keep her away from me." You couldn't be mad at it.
The Fox Theatre was his surprise. You jumped into his arms wrapping yours happily around his neck when you realized you were there for an Ella Mai concert. Loudly, you both sang and there was nothing that could've possibly been better. You were almost ashamed to give him his gift which was in your trunk.. an Aerogarden.. a stainless steel mini countertop garden with LED lighting that would allow him to grow his own fresh herbs, greens, and veggies right there in the kitchen. Thankfully, he loved it. "Thank you, baby," he said between smothering kisses all over your face. He really loved it.
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It was the perfect date night and when he dropped you back at home, you invited him in to see what Ang brought the two of you. From the bag, you pull out a Kate Spade wallet and a mug that says Reformed Workaholic. Erik smirks and you hit him playfully. Then you pull out an envelope but it's addressed to him. He opens the it and reads the card:
Erik, Thank you for taking care of my bestie. She deserves it. I'm glad she found someone like you. If she ever gets on your nerves, just drop her off at my house, but stick around.
"Ain't gotta tell me," he says slipping it back into the envelope. There's a pair of Gucci black rimmed glasses and he grabs them immediately putting them on.
"Damn..," you jerk at how fast he moved to grab them. "I'll tell her you liked them!" Chuckling, you take out the last items. A bottle of honey and a can of whipped cream. "What I'm supposed to do with this," you mumble, your mind putting it together. There's a dark glint in his eyes.
"You gone really thank her after I show you how they do New Years kisses in Australia," he whispers lowly in your ear with an Australian accent. "Down under." You cackle. Pulling you up from the couch, he drapes you over his shoulder like a caveman, slapping your ass and he takes you up the stairs, honey and whipped cream in hand. You're thanking her in your head already.
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bitch-aucoin · 5 years
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3, 7, and 11 because I love your headcanons
3. What’s your headcanon for their spaceship design?
Oh I defs go with the Africa MV/Meow Wolf aesthetic now. In Stellar Objects the boys currently have a lil shit box junker ship that just gets them from place to place. Eventually I want to give them that crazy set up (TARDIS style it, yanno? Bigger on the inside, maybe with rooms that can change based on moods or needs of the boys. Stuff like that.)
7. List each of the boys favorite hobbies, and why.
Oh! I think I’ve mentioned before Sung likes to do a little bit of everything because WHY THE FUCK NOT? I think his favorite things to do tho are practicing karate with tai jutsu cool downs, building absolutely unnecessary little bits of tech (nothing too big, nothing too crazy either. Just voice activated nutritional fact listings that shame them not into snacking, or maybe gloves that can act as a TV remote for when he’s feeling really lazy and can’t find the ACTUAL remote. Stuff like that), and then lastly I just think he likes to read. He’s not really a big fiction fan. His life is crazy fun and wild enough for him. But he just reads how to books and “so you want to be...” books and just is constantly looking to learn. He can speak french, Japanese, and American fluently in my canon as well as ASL, because why the hell not. He has an interest in those things. They matter to him. Why wouldn’t he? Also he defs plays video games a lot.
Phobos does a lot of gardening. I don’t really have him doing herb garden stuff. More fruits and flowers. Flowers are his favorite too because he’ll press them into books and sometimes he’ll write poems out on them and paste them around his room or slip them under doors for the other boys. I also canon him as the second song writer of the group. He has so many words that he can’t speak so at the very least he can write them all down. He also reads romance novels. You can find them ALL over the ship, each cover and description worse than the last. He’s probably gonna pick up tea leaf reading soon, but tarot and astrology are a little too out there for him (really, he just likes the idea of tea ceremonies/high tea because it seems simultaneously refined and relaxing.) I feel like he wants to learn to knit because he likes wearing oversized sweaters, but he hasn’t fully committed to it yet. And while Sung plays a lot of video games, he doesn’t touch the handheld stuff. That’s all Phobos.
Havve’s a bit more meticulous. First off you may not say this is a hobby, but he really does pride himself on cleaning up after everyone. He doesn’t mind it, although everyone’s rooms are their own problem. He’ll just really get into it. Actually looking into cleaning hacks, or new ways to tackle grime and dust. If anyone pops into the ship/their place back on Earth and just hears Skid music they know immediately to leave and let Havve to his devices. He also just has a habit of sharpening and collecting knives, and while he can already perfectly throw them he likes to fuck around with his internal parts to make it so he has to learn it all over again, so seeing Havve at an axe throwing place would not be surprising in the slightest. It’s about the challenge (same with drawing. He does it only with pen, tries to see if he can draw the perfect circle over and over again, or things by memory.)
Meouch is a record collector. Has a vintage record player that Sung helped him patch up that he’ll just pop on every night with all sorts of old school stuff. He’ll roll his own cigarettes and joints while the vinyl pops and crackles warmly and he’ll just find his inner peace while he does. I also canon Meouch as a piano player, something he got from his childhood, so once Phobos and Sung have come up with the lyrics Meouch is always the one that pulls it all together because he just has the right wired brain for it. The logic, the measure, the way the notes should come together. When he isn’t being the old man of the group, I feel like Meouch just likes traveling! Going new places, trying new food, enjoying the sights on his own personal time instead of in big groups.
For some reason, I wanna write a thing where Meouch fishes, but that just feels like it’s digging into the idea of him being an old man! i write him so different from everyone else!!!
11. Headcanon favorite foods for all the TWRP members.
Sung would die for both ramen and pizza. Just gonna say that right now. He’s defs a miso chicken ramen guy and likes to get that spicy, but when it comes to pizza he can do everything and anything, but he can just also pack away a plain cheese and love every second.
Phobos is the sweet tooth of the group. All sorts of candies, fruits, juices, honeys and nectars? That’s all him. I feel like he doesn’t enjoy chocolate as much when a fruiter option presents itself (like cake and brownies) but he’ll still go for it, no doubt.
Havve don’t eat food! I think he’d eat very healthy if he did (fish, for some reason my brain keeps saying fish!)
Meouch fucking loves a good ass burger with everything on it. He doesn’t like to get fancy. That or wings and of course, we can’t forget poutine!!! He’ll top it off with a nice beer or cider and that’s kind of why he’s got a nice lil paunch to him hehe
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