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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years ago

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Hi don't mean to bother you but I wish to know if you were going to continue the yandere kny cat.

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You’d been so antsy lately you almost forgot to actually meet your new landlord

Apparently due to some unfortunate circumstances your old landlord had died was murdered

And his son has come to run the place instead rather than having the whole system shut down and everyone evicted

You were anxious because your baby Magenta was nowhere to be found

He didn’t even come home when you left catnip on your doorstep

Despite all that you made or bought some cookies for the new guy

And aren’t you surprised when you come face to face with those eyes

“M-magenta?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh uh sorry! It's just your eyes…they’re very pretty.”

“Well, thank you. Care to come inside?”

He’s trying to act normally like his heart isn’t pumping with such intensity

To think you’d recognize him so quickly

Even in his experience going undercover as a human not too many spoke about his eyes

At least not in a positive light

When he finally waves goodbye he’s reeling with intensity

There is something so much more exciting about experiencing you like this

Your shorter than him

So much smaller than him

So fragile compared to him

Demon or not you’re so weak

He can’t have you out here unprotected

With that in mind he waits until you’re out

Before letting himself in to see the stern-faced cat of Giyuu Tomioka waiting near the door:

“I was waiting for you to trespass. I wonder can you even understand me now.//”

“I can.”

At his words he lifted his hat letting his cat ears and lengthy tail out. Flicking, agitated he moved to let himself further into your home only to be stopped by the black cat hopping from his post on the counter to stalk in front of him. He glared into the deep blue eyes of the black tomcat before gliding him away with his foot.

“Where are the kittens?”

“Why?//”

He growled, further letting himself into the house making a beeline towards your room. Ignoring the resounding hisses he let himself into your room. Expecting to see the kittens curled up on your bed and pillows, a position he typically ushered them to, only to find a completely different scene.

“Oh Master! I’m happy to find you so close to your true form!//”

A blonde turkish angora with rainbow eyes was currently dangling a burgundy kitten off the bed by his collar. Nezuko was swatting at the bigger cat while Rui seemed to have awoken at his entrance immediately mewing positively at him.

“Doma put him down.”

“Yes sir!”

Unceremoniously dropping him, the cat proceeded to fully turn and stand at attention towards Muzan. Thankfully Tanjiro’s descent was halted by Giyuu dashing in to catch him by scruff. With a growl and bristled tail he carried him out the room immediately being followed by Nezuko who shot him a glare of her own.

“Why are you here Doma?”

“One of (Y/n)’s friends have decided to go on a trip for work, so she left me here in the meantime.”

“I see.”

Doma stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for Muzan to give him orders or something only to find that the demon king was quite occupied. Holding the pillow to his face he aggressively sniffed letting his imagination run wild as he recalled smelling it on you during your last visit. Moving on, he used his enhanced sense of smell to guide him to your wardrobe. Folded with clothes and underwear he wasted no time rubbing them on himself specifically on his sweatglands-near his neck face. Completely focused he missed the increasing meowing his subordinates were doing.

“M-master w-what are you doing?!//”

“I-I spent all morning scenting those Master? Can’t I have a little bit, since I am going to be leaving soon anyway.//”

Muzan didn’t stop what he was doing, only turning his head to deliver his aggressive glare making Rui and Doma bow their heads in submission.

“Don’t be bold. When I’m here I’m the only one allowed to imprint my presence.”

“But you left!//”

The accusatory remark came from Tanjiro who was barging back into the room with Nezuko right behind. Giyuu also peeked around the corner, seeming to have tried to stop him. Muzan seemed annoyed at the statement, turning wholly to look at the burgundy kitten.

“You left (Y/n) and us all alone, how can we even trust you?//”

“Tanjiro!//”

Giyuu scolded him as he watched Muzan’s face remorph into one of anger; he moved to stand beside his junior only to be stopped by Doma who was standing on guard with his own way of smirking.

“You’re such a kitten! Don’t you realize what I’ve done?”

He abandoned his scenting, looking down at the kitten who was continuing to glare at him completely unphased.

“I got rid of that cockroach that kept sneaking in here! Do you think I should have just let him be when I could have gotten rid of him?!”

“No, but we could have gone about things another way!//”

“Like what?! And what do you know! I’m hundreds of years older than you!”

“Well I’m not a monster that just kills all their problems!//”

“You say that but aren’t you the one that promised to ki-”

“ENOUGH!//”

Giyuu meowed, bringing Tanjiro’s and Muzan’s fight to a halt. Both still seemed plenty worked up so Giyuu spoke again.

“Didn’t we agree that we leave all of that for home!? Just leave it. The only thing we focus on is protecting (Y/n)!//”

The air between them seemed to calm as both Muzan and Tanjiro closed up on themselves. Giyuu shot the kitten a look and if that wasn’t enough Rui who was no longer on the bed swatted at Tanjiro who huffed before turning back to the cat-human.

“I’m…sorry for misunderstanding you.//”

“And I forget that you're a kitten sometimes, must be the human side of this body.”

Everyone grimaced at the not-so-much apology before collectively breathing in a sigh of relief when Muzan began to smile at him.

“I have no intention of staying away from (Y/n) after all. So it’s best you get used to me.”

“Oh babies I’m home!”

Both dread and excitement ran through everyone as they realized that you were in fact home from work. Doma wanted to dart off toward you only to be held back by Giyuu who motioned towards Muzan who was very much still a cat-human who was digging through your drawers. Running around frantically Rui was raving about how they were supposed to hide him, Nezuko was getting worked up and proceeded to run around just as wildly leaving Tanjiro to chase her and try and stop them. All the while your steps increase as your sweet voice calls out for them as it was strange that they hadn’t greeted you at the door.

“Babies, where are you guys? Are you guys all hanging out in the bedroom?”

Your steps grew louder as Giyuu tried to rationalize what to do. You finally stepped into the room watching the kittens run around on the floor with your black, blue eyed tomcat trying to ignore the rainbow eyed cat. A drawer in your wardrobe was open and came to find someone familiar digging through it.

“Magenta!? Where have you been, sweet baby!? Awww did you get bigger?!”

You scooped up the shorthair cuddling into him as he nuzzled into you. Turning right out the room you too focused on showering your returned cat you missed the prideful look he sent towards the stunned looking cats.

“Did you know he could do that?//”

“...No…But I wish I did.//”

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kanene-yaaay · 4 years ago

Text

Go to Sleep

Kanene’s note: Gosh, having a schedule is weird. I just wanna post everything I already wrote and ramble non stop about it asdfgtyujkigfdo. XD

Well, this was suppose to be a drabble, but it’s very long so sdftyujikgfred. I hope you like it!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders from the serie Sanders Sides.

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic. If you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Lee!Virgil with Ler!Roman. Around 1.500 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Listen a bit to the birds today. Changing the way you think is not a bad thing. Drink water, sleep, eat and love!

[~*~]

Roman growled, missing by a few inches the button of his thunderous, infuriating alarm before finally hitting it. Staring and blinking lazily at the numbers his brain struggled to discern and recognize, only to confirm it was really time to wake up and start the day. He grabbed his pillow and squeezed it with all the strength he could muster, rolling from one side to other on the mattress, trying to wake up his body as quick as his mind and almost falling from the bed a reasonable number of times during the process.

He got up, yawing, stretching and humming as the first lyrics of the day stuck on his head, hand rubbing at his eyes as he followed the kitchen’s direction with slow steps and tired sways on the beat of the song.

Two dark, wide eyes stared right back at him, their owner completely frozen on the spot with his hand inside the cabinet, probably already holding some sort of a snack. Roman also stopped mid-step, gears running inside his mind, gaze locked on the other, his brow progressively furrowing.

“Virgil,” he began, voice slightly hoarse “What the heckty heck are you doing up? It’s barely seven in the morning!” Virgil only stared back, slowly closing the cabinet’s door, as if afraid the movement would startle the other. Roman proceeded to get some eggs and other cold ingredients from the refrigerator for the breakfast, his words growing more awake and vivid as they spilled with no filter or whatsoever from his lips. “You got an early shift again or something? Those are absolutely hellish. A bunch of people exhausted, tired and glaring at you as if you are the holder of all their problems and their solutions can only be achieved by being insufferable pieces of- Urg. I can’t believe they would give you one right after you got the night one. Damn, I didn’t even see you arriving here yesterday!”

He turned his attention back at the other, looking for a kind of frustration in the place of the still startled, wide gaze which continued to be directed at him. Virgil nodded slowly, stepping away and putting some physical distance between him and the confusion on Roman’s features.

Then, between the strings of sleepiness that clouded his brain, it clicked.

Suddenly more details on the other’s behavior started to become clearer: the way Virgil’s hair was messier than his usual ““style”” (Roman scoffed mentally, thinking that if he rolled his eyes any harder they would never come back to his normal place again), his wary, yes, but way too much slow movements, the way he seemed to be unable to stop blinking at every millisecond and, above it all, the final piece of the puzzle.

Virgil wasn’t wearing his pajamas.

“YOU DIDN’T!” Roman gasped, as if Virgil’s life choices were a personal attack. “YOU DIDN’T GET ANY SLEEP LAST NIGHT!!” A turn of heels and he was again fixating his glare on the other, his free hand accusingly pointing in his direction, receiving an annoyed hiss as immediate answer.

“Shut up!” Virgil snarled, practically growling back at him. “It’s fucking seven am don’t be so freaking loud.”

“Don’t change the subject! Why didn’t you go to sleep?”

The one being questioned just snorted, half amused. “Bold of you to assume I’d ever sleep in my whole life.”

“That is it.” Virgil didn’t even have the time to wonder the meaning of his friend’s sentence before the aforementioned picked him up, resulting to a not very contained shriek escaping from his lips and his hands not much gracefully – or gently, although since they were keen on just jumping on each other out of nowhere to play fight Princey would be fine - meeting his friend’s face.

“Roman! What the he-”

“Did you just SLAP me? My beautiful face?! Before my own beautiful eyes??” Virgil Storm always got, even if he would never admit this out loud, surprised with Roman’s capacity of doing a series of offended incoherent noises which evolved to words before being carefully metamorphosed in weird noises all over again, and in the end still managing to form comprehensible sentences. His surprise did nothing to quell the grumpy snark immediately flying from lips, though.

“And I’m going to do it again if you don’t let me go in this exact instant.”

“You go and try to help and that is the acknowledgement you get,” The one wearing pajamas with little crows printed on it huffed, mumbling in a lower tone as he noticed the sharp gaze being thrown in his direction. “fucking unbelievable.”

“I still can hear you, Princey. You’re literally carrying me.”

“I sTiLL cAn HeAr yOu-OW! Ow! Ow!” The sentence was interrupted when the sleep deprived one punched Roman’s shoulder. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Let me fucking gAAH!” In a way his wish was granted, one could say as they watched his protest being cut as Storm was impolitely tossed on his bed, Roman quickly following his friend on the mattress, arms hugging him from behind, and physically preventing him from escaping his current soft predicament. “Prince, you’re dead.”

“Shhh, no talking. We’re sleeping.”

“We are not. You are being a pain in ass and I am about to defenestrate you.” Despite his fervent protests, his sharp, flaming glare began to lose its heat, his body not doing any actual effort to free himself from the other’s – strong, good - grip, muscles starting to relax against the great warmth involving him in a comfortable and secure blanket.

“Sure, sure, mister Grumpy Pants, you can do that when you wake up.” He tightened a bit his hold around Virgil, yet being the most careful as possible, actively ignoring the annoyed hiss his friend gave him. His hoodie was really fluffy at the touch, slightly remembering his stuffed animals he frequently hugged to sleep.

For a moment, everything was pleasantly quiet. The one with smudged makeup, since he hadn’t time to get it off before being trapped by his roommate and best friend, felt the tiredness becoming sleepiness as the seconds went by.

…That was until an electric sensation shot across his spine, leading him to almost jump in the same place

“S-stop nuzzling me!”

“Hm? Oh sorry.” Virgil pressed his lips tightly closed, preventing the wobbly giggles to escape as Roman speaks, not realizing how close his mouth was from the base of his neck, every breath sending tickly shocks across every nerve. “You’re just too much sooooft.”

Roman opened an eye when realized that no snark remark from the other followed his words, the figure in his arms shaking too much to be asleep. A frown painted his feature as he readjusted the position of his hands, trying to get a bit more of balance to look at Virgil’s face when suddenly a high-pitched yelp escaped, cutting the air and immediately catching their attention.

“Did you just squeal?” He questioned as his glare assumed a playful shine seeing a blush spread on his now frozen friend.

“It was NOT a squeal! It was a yelp.” Virgil’s words came so fast that they almost tripped on themselves. Roman snorted, a smile taking over his face. “Get off me!” and, in the moment the one wearing a hoodie tried to pry his hand from the spot on his right side where it was resting, the pieces finally clicked in the right place and his smile quickly submerged, giving space to a smirk.

‘No WAY Doctor Doom and Gloom is ticklish!’

However, the red lover only blinked as the true personification of innocence and naiveness, his hand firm in its place, fingers starting to slowly move, light pokes being delivered on the sensitive skin. “But why that, Knight Mare? It’s cold and all I could ever want is just to hug my bestest friend!”

“You already hugged me, now go aWAY!” His voice trembled in the last second, the exact moment his thumb experimentally scratched the spot right under the lowest ribs, leading a surprised squeak to leave Virgil’s mouth.

They both stared at each other, gleaming, filling their wide eyes.

“No.” Virgil said, trying to squirm away but finding himself stuck between Prince and the wall. Roman didn’t even attempt to hide his smug grin, anymore. This was going to be so much fun

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you freaking dare!!” His friend only laid down again, now carefully, yet firmly, pulling him one more time against his chest, growling playfully. Years and years fighting for the Tickle Monster title on his family, battles and battles against Remus only sharpening his skills, which showed by the way his fingers seemed to find every single weak spot on Virgil’s skin, wiggles, scribbles, pokes and scratching exploring everywhere. “No! Nononono! You fucker, you moron, you bitch, you-” A few chuckles cut his curses as he one wearing pajamas squeezed his side a couple of times, the tip of his fingers also teasing his ticklish stomach. “Roman!!”

“No, no, my so dear, so ticklish, friend. Roman is no longer here, this is…” He paused for a dramatic effect, basically beaming at the giggly giggles and wiggly wiggles from the other. He shoved his face on his neck, the next words vibrating almost as bad as the spidering on his ribs. “The Tickle Monster!!”

#Cursing #This is inspired on a meme I saw that was basically two beans staring each other like ':0' with the legend 'Me waking up at 5 AM' and-#- 'My roomate going to sleep at 5 AM'#Idk why but this is so funny to me xDDD #I will probably use that exact scenario in others fics in the future #Lee!Virgil #Ler!Roman #Ticklish!Virgil #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's Fanfic #Kanene's Fic #Kanene's Art #I couldn't write the tickles here for some reason xDD Honestly if someone want to continue the idea/fic pls feel free to!#I really like this idea xP

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obeyme-ladiesnight · 5 years ago

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Card Overlay made by @/azulsartdump

Unlock the story below!

Hungry Eyes

It was a typical morning at the House of Lamentation. A majority of the residents finished their breakfast and had left to take care of their tasks for the day. Only three girls remained in the dining room. Lucifer and Asmo sat at one end of the table causally chatting about various topics, while their younger sister Beel sat on the other side. She was starting her brunch meal.

The two ladies were enjoying their conversations until the sound of loud monching and crunching ramped up. Lucifer and Asmo paused to awkwardly look at each other then awkwardly look at Beel. Beel never paused. She simply continued gorging on her meal.

“Oh wow! She’s really going at it… Ah Ha-ha.“ Asmo commented ending her sentence with a nervous laugh. “Umm… Should we stop her? This is getting hard to watch…” The ferocious pace Beel was eating at was quite intimidating. Lucifer sighed and nodded agreement.

“Beel…” The first born called out to no response as Beel was too consumed in consuming. “Beel.” She repeated more sternly, but still no response. “BEELZEBUB!” Shouting finally got sixth born’s attention. The sudden call of her name made her flinch in the middle of taking a bite out a danish.

“Hmm… What’s up?” Beels asked then continued to take a bite.

“Ah… Well… Don’t you think you shouldn’t be eating like that, dear?” Asmo started to say. “You know… Unladylike.”

“Oh…” Beel looked at the empty plates surrounding her. “Well I don’t care about that as long as I get to eat.”

“You don’t view this a problem, Beel?” Lucifer questioned. “Aren’t you worried of what others might think?”

“No.”

“So you’re okay with others thinking of you as a pig then?”

Beel flinched at that statement and there was twinge of hurt in her face. Her cheeks turned bright pink and she quickly looked down at her lap. Even Asmo flinched at the harsh comment.

“Hey~ She didn’t mean it like-” Asmo attempted to console her sister, but was cut off by her suddenly standing up.

“I understand.” Beel was still looking down as she picked up her plates and hurried off drop them in the kitchen and then run back to her room. Asmo shot Lucifer an accusatory look after Beel left.

“Wow Lucy… Bold of you to call her a pig to her face. Totally not a bitch move or anything…” She scolded.

“What? I didn’t call her a pig. I was simply implying that-”

“Oh sure sure… You didn’t mean it like that.”

“I wasn’t trying-”

“HMM-MMM…”

The two continued to bicker.

~*~*~

Beel entered her shared bed room face still flushed from earlier. Lucky for Beel, her twin went back to napping after breakfast, so she couldn’t ask about her pink face. She proceeded throw herself in her bed and began clutching the sheets and pillows.

“Do people actually think I’m a pig?” She softly questioned herself.

Beel never really thought about it. She was the avatar of Gluttony. It was in her nature to like eating… a lot. If anyone had an issue with her eating habits that was their problem not hers. However, all of a sudden she felt so self-conscious at the thought of someone judging her.

“Do… they think I’m a pig?”

“Haaah…? What are you mumbling about?”

Beel’s eyes widen and she flipped around on her bed to see her sister Belphie was no longer swaddled in her own covers, but instead looming over her.

“Belphie… Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” Beel sat up in her bed still clutching a pillow. “I was just thinking about… Things. I’m fine.” She gave a small smile to assure her twin everything was alright. Not that Belphie was buying it.

“Things? What things?” Belphie crossed her arms and frowned at Beel. She knew something was up and intended to find out what.

“Ah… Well I thinking about how good breakfast tasted.” Beel’s kept darting around avoiding Belphie’s glare.

“And…?”

“…And I like what you did with your hair.”

“And…?”

“…And how it’s nice weather out today.”

“Annnnd…?”

“…And maybe I want to not eat so much anymore.”

Belphie would have done a spit-take if she was drinking something. She gripped her taller sister’s shoulders.

“Beel what is going on? Are you sick? Hurt? Does Belphie have to smack a bitch?” Her stare was so serious. Beel shook her head.

“I just think it would be a good idea for me… to cut back. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m a pig or anything…” Beel turned her head and quietly murmured that last part.

“Beelzebub… The always-famished sixth born… Avatar of Gluttony… Is on a diet?” She was utterly dumbfounded.

“Not a diet, per se, I’m just going to eat less. Like normal portions like everyone else!” Beel beamed. Belphie arched a brow.

“So are not going to eat for the rest of the day? You ate enough that would last anyone else the rest of the week actually.” Beel pouted. Belphie sighed. “Why are you so worried about what others think about your eating habits all of a sudden. This never bothered you before…” Beel refused to make eye contact as her cheeks turned light pink. “Is there a certain someone you’re worried about looking down on you?” Beel perked up turning bright red. “Ha. Gotcha.”

Before Beel could protest, her DDD sounded with a text. She took out her device and read the message and promptly got up to leave.

“Hey where are you going?”

“MC and I had plans to walk around Devildom today.”

“Hehehe… Good luck walking around the food vendors, sis.” Belphie teased.

Beel merely shot her twin a frown and shut the door behind her. She sighed. She knew how badly she was going to need that luck.

~*~*~

“Oh Lady Diavolo give me the strength to endure this hell…” Beel quietly chanted to herself.

“Isn’t this great, Beel? There seems to be some sort of food festival today. Look at all the different stalls! Where do you want to go first?” MC cheerfully asked. “I bet you want to visit all of them. Haha~” Oh how badly she wanted to do that. Beel’s face turned pink and she quickly brushed passed MC.

“L-Let’s keep walking.” She blurted out before continuing down the side walk. MC immediately pegged this as strange. She wasn’t a picky eater unless it came to Mammon or Solomon’s food, but they weren’t around so what could be wrong? They followed after her.

Trailing behind her for a couple minutes it was absolutely clear to MC that Beel was denying herself the pleasure of eating for some reason. She’d eye other people snacking on delicious goodies and stared at plated meals on display with deep longing in her eyes. Her stomach would growl occasionally scaring anyone in earshot. It was very strange, and every time MC tried to point out how weird she was acting she’d quickly change the subject.

MC got tired of going circles. They were going to get to bottom of this.

The two decided to take a break from their stroll to sit at an open cafe, and of course Beel wasn’t ordering anything. MC was fiddling with the laminated menu while Beel looked off to the side miserable.

“Ahem- So what are you going to get? This crepe looks-”

“I don’t want anything.” Beel lied.

“You don’t want anything? Anything at all?” MC asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

That was it. MC wasn’t going to be nice about it anymore. It was time to go for the throat. MC flagged down a waitress and placed an order.

“Hey~ You better not be ordering something for me!” Beel said eyeing the waitress walking away.

“I wasn’t.” “Good… Because I wasn’t going to eat it.”

“I know.”

Moments later, the waitress returned balancing an immaculate sundae on a silver platter. The waitress placed it on the table told MC to enjoy and left. The two of them stared, one with more desire in her heart. Beel stared in a daze which was broken when MC picked up the cup.

“MMMM! Doesn’t this look just scrumptious?” MC started playing it up. Not that it was really needed as Beel couldn’t shake her gaze. “The freshly cut strawberries smells so sweet and look how the sugary syrup oozes down the soft ice cream!” There was an audible gulp. “This dessert is truly divine if I do say so myself~” MC eyed Beel for a reaction.

“W-w-Well go head and enjoy it!” She crossed her arms and pretended not to be fazed.

“Okay~ Here I go!” MC scooped at the sundae making a big show out of it. They examined the spoonful, and wafted the aroma, and even closed their eyes to take a bite. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah~”

“Wait.”

MC opened their eyes to see Beel madly blushing with tear welling in her eyes, one hand over her mouth, and the other raised giving the stop hand sign.

“I want it.” She whimpered.

MC chuckled. They shifted their chair over to her and offered her the spoonful. She took a bite and her expression of relief, pleasure, and happiness made MC’s heart feel light.

“That’s my girl. Now after this let’s properly enjoy today.”

Beel smiled and nodded, licking the sweetness off her lips.

#Obey Me #GenderBend #Beelzebub #Fanfic #I'm reposting this so it looks noicer #Queued

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boxbusiness · 5 years ago

Photo

Totally didn’t try to make a bootleg card with a devilgram story or nothing...

👀💦

But if ya wanna read some fluff with Fem!Beel check under the cut~ 🙃🙃🙃

Also apologies if it’s wonky~ I’ve never written a self insert and it’s kinda not and is at the same time >3>”

Hungry Eyes

“Oh wow! She’s really going at it... Ah Ha-ha.“ Asmo commented ending her sentence with a nervous laugh. “Umm... Should we stop her? This is getting hard to watch...” The ferocious pace Beel was eating at was quite intimidating. Lucifer sighed and nodded agreement.

“Beel...” The first born called out to no response as Beel was too consumed in consuming. “Beel.” She repeated more sternly, but still no response. “BEELZEBUB!” Shouting finally got sixth born’s attention. The sudden call of her name made her flinch in the middle of taking a bite out a danish.

“Hmm... What’s up?” Beels asked then continued to take a bite.

“Ah... Well... Don’t you think you shouldn’t be eating like that, dear?” Asmo started to say. “You know... Unladylike.”

“Oh...” Beel looked at the empty plates surrounding her. “Well I don’t care about that as long as I get to eat.”

“You don’t view this a problem, Beel?” Lucifer questioned. “Aren’t you worried of what others might think?”

“No.”

“So you’re okay with others thinking of you as a pig then?”

Beel flinched at that statement and there was twinge of hurt in her face. Her cheeks turned bright pink and she quickly looked down at her lap. Even Asmo flinched at the harsh comment.

“Hey~ She didn’t mean it like-” Asmo attempted to console her sister, but was cut off by her suddenly standing up.

“Wow Lucy... Bold of you to call her a pig to her face. Totally not a bitch move or anything...” She scolded.

“What? I didn’t call her a pig. I was simply implying that-”

“Oh sure sure... You didn’t mean it like that.”

“I wasn’t trying-”

“HMM-MMM...”

The two continued to bicker.

~*~*~

“Do people actually think I’m a pig?” She softly questioned herself.

Beel never really thought about it. She was the avatar of Gluttony. It was in her nature to like eating... a lot. If anyone had an issue with her eating habits that was their problem not hers. However, all of a sudden she felt so self-conscious at the thought of someone judging her.

“Do... they think I’m a pig?”

“Haaah...? What are you mumbling about?”

Beel’s eyes widen and she flipped around on her bed to see her sister Belphie was no longer swaddled in her own covers, but instead looming over her.

“Belphie... Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” Beel sat up in her bed still clutching a pillow. “I was just thinking about... Things. I’m fine.” She gave a small smile to assure her twin everything was alright. Not that Belphie was buying it.

“Things? What things?” Belphie crossed her arms and frowned at Beel. She knew something was up and intended to find out what.

“Ah... Well I thinking about how good breakfast tasted.” Beel’s kept darting around avoiding Belphie’s glare.

“And...?”

“...And I like what you did with your hair.”

“And...?”

“...And how it’s nice weather out today.”

“Annnnd...?”

“...And maybe I want to not eat so much anymore.”

Belphie would have done a spit-take if she was drinking something. She gripped her taller sister’s shoulders.

“Beel what is going on? Are you sick? Hurt? Does Belphie have to smack a bitch?” Her stare was so serious. Beel shook her head.

“I just think it would be a good idea for me... to cut back. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m a pig or anything...” Beel turned her head and quietly murmured that last part.

“Beelzebub... The always-famished sixth born... Avatar of Gluttony... Is on a diet?” She was utterly dumbfounded.

“Not a diet, per se, I’m just going to eat less. Like normal portions like everyone else!” Beel beamed. Belphie arched a brow.

“So are not going to eat for the rest of the day? You ate enough that would last anyone else the rest of the week actually.” Beel pouted. Belphie sighed. “Why are you so worried about what others think about your eating habits all of a sudden. This never bothered you before...” Beel refused to make eye contact as her cheeks turned light pink. “Is there a certain someone you’re worried about looking down on you?” Beel perked up turning bright red. “Ha. Gotcha.”

Before Beel could protest, her DDD sounded with a text. She took out her device and read the message and promptly got up to leave.

“Hey where are you going?”

“MC and I had plans to walk around Devildom today.”

“Hehehe... Good luck walking around the food vendors, sis.” Belphie teased.

Beel merely shot her twin a frown and shut the door behind her. She sighed. She knew how badly she was going to need that luck.

~*~*~

“Oh Lady Diavolo give me the strength to endure this hell...” Beel quietly chanted to herself.

MC got tired of going circles. They were going to get to bottom of this.

“Ahem- So what are you going to get? This crepe looks-”

“I don’t want anything.” Beel lied.

“You don’t want anything? Anything at all?” MC asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

That was it. MC wasn’t going to be nice about it anymore. It was time to go for the throat. MC flagged down a waitress and placed an order.

“Hey~ You better not be ordering something for me!” Beel said eyeing the waitress walking away.

“I wasn’t.” “Good... Because I wasn’t going to eat it.”

“I know.”

“W-w-Well go head and enjoy it!” She crossed her arms and pretended not to be fazed.

“Wait.”

MC opened their eyes to see Beel madly blushing with tear welling in her eyes, one hand over her mouth, and the other raised giving the stop hand sign.

“I want it.” She whimpered.

MC chuckled. They shifted their chair over to her and offered her the spoonful. She took a bite and her expression of relief, pleasure, and happiness made MC’s heart feel light.

“That’s my girl. Now after this let’s properly enjoy today.”

Beel smiled and nodded, licking the sweetness off her lips.

#Obey Me #genderbend #rule 63 #Beel #Beelzebub #Fanfic #Fluff

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blue-lions-baby · 4 years ago

Text

Operation Confession (Dimitri x F!Reader) [Ch. 3] [FINALE]

hi!! well, this is it. the final chapter of operation confession. to be very honest, with everything going on it was quite difficult to write this, but i hope the quality is still relatively the same as my previous chapters! i had so much fun writing this series, and i hope reading it was just as entertaining! thank you so much for sticking with it-- it means the absolute world to me :)

this will prob be my last post for a bit before i head off to college; please rest assured i do not plan to leave this blog or this wonderful community anytime soon! thank you for being patient with me as i adjust to this very new chapter of my life!!

without further ado, please enjoy ch. 3!

~*~

“Hey, false alarm!” Sylvain traipsed back in, hands behind his head. “(F/N) and Felix are actually gonna freshen up a bit before heading to dinner.”

Groans and angry huffs spilled out of the frazzled Lions; the menacing stares that the redhead bore made him squeak, and he cleared his throat.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry! They ran into us while His Highness was changing--”

“While he was changing?” Dedue and Ingrid looked like they were about to have a stroke.

“I-It’s a long and,” Sylvain looked at The Hand, “painful story, but what’s important is that they didn’t see him! All thanks to Yours Truly.”

“You were a blubbering idiot. The only reason why (F/N) didn’t bother questioning you further was because she was too tired to care.” Felix joined in, the permanent scowl on his features deepening.

“Felix!” Sylvain’s countenance lit up joyfully before hazing into confusion. “Wait, I thought you were gonna freshen up before heading to dinner.”

“I don’t need to. Hardly broke a sweat during training.”

“W-What?! How?!”

“I guess you wouldn’t understand, seeing as how your only form of exercise is chasing after anything that wears a skirt.”

Sylvain’s eyes took on a glossy, hollow quality as the Lions hollered in laughter.

“Uh... So Sylvain, where’s His Highness?” Asked Annette, having expected him to walk in.

“Oh, he ran back to his quarters to put his clothes away. He should be coming back any minute now.”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

After neatly hanging his uniform in his closet and giving himself a quick once-over in the mirror, he gave himself one last pep talk before swinging the door open and--

Seeing the side of your head as you idly engaged in conversation with a fellow student.

Oh Sothis, help him.

As quickly (and loudly) as he opened the door, he closed it and promptly went back inside to scream into his pillow. Where in the world did you even come from? Weren’t you supposed to be ‘freshening up?’ Your quarters weren’t even down this hallway; what in the Goddess’s name were you even doing here?

He pressed his ear further into the door, straining to pick up bits and pieces of your conversation in hopes to inform himself on your sudden visitation. Nothing. All he could hear was muffled banter bouncing between either of you-- muffled banter that didn’t sound like it was going to end any time soon. He screamed curses in his head and awkwardly slid down onto the floor, lightly banging his cranium against the solid wooden door.

He desperately wished for someone, anyone to save him.

He sighed while rubbing his temples-- a desperate attempt to quell the arising headache. Dimitri combed through his options, each less viable than the last. After eliminating any and all half-baked ideas of escape, he was face-to-face with the one option he didn’t want to consider.

Sit here and wait until you left.

So Dimitri sat (more like paced) in his room, occasionally pressing his ear against the door in hopes that he didn’t hear your lighthearted banter outside. Why was it the one time he didn’t want to run into you, there you were! Right outside his door. You might as well have come with a giant bow on your head!

The floor beneath him rumbled slightly, pulling him from his thoughts; the even pacing grew stronger and stronger until it stopped just a little ways past his door.

“(F/N).”

Wait... That’s... It’s unmistakable! That has to be--!

“Dedue! Hello!”

“I apologize for the interruption, but I have come to remind you that it is your turn to tend to the greenhouse today.”

A short pause ensued, followed by an audible gasp.

“Wait, yes! You’re right! I’ve completely forgotten, thank you so much for reminding me!”

Dimitri heard muffled apologies and goodbyes sputter out of your lips, followed by light footsteps scurrying away. Your former companion proceeded to engage in very light talk with the Duscur man before quickly excusing themselves from the scene; Dedue, glancing down the hall to ensure that no one else was nearby, approached and gently rapped his lord’s door with calloused knuckles.

“Your Highness, you may come out now.”

The inner mechanisms of the door clicked softly, the hesitancy of the room’s occupant translating directly through the brass knob.

“Oh, thank the Goddess you came, Dedue. Frankly, I had given up any hope of escape.” Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck tiredly.

“I knew something was wrong when you did not return. I am glad that I came.” Dedue gave a curt bow.

“Thank you Dedue. Come. Let us head to the dining hall, shall we?”

“Of course, Your Highness. (F/N) should be preoccupied with her greenhouse duties for a time.”

“Yes... Actually, Dedue, how did you know it was (F/N)’s turn to tend to the greenhouse today?”

“Truthfully, Your Highness, I didn’t. It was pure luck she was scheduled today.”

“You mean--” Dimitri’s eyes widened.

“Yes. That was just a fluke. I have no knowledge of the schedule, other than the times either you or I are assigned.”

“Hah!” Dimitri’s hand landed on his retainer’s shoulder. “What luck! After hearing that, I can not help but feel a bit more confident about tonight.”

“And why is that, Your Highness?”

“If fate is as real as the ground beneath us, I would say that, perhaps, (F/N) and I are truly meant to be together.”

“That is quite a romantic notion, Your Highness.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Dimitri sighed as they crossed the threshold to the outside. The sun was just starting its descent past the hills; the slowly extinguishing rays of light brushed the sky with vibrant hues of vermilion and marigold.

“Despite that, I can not help but feel... hopeful. And... happy.”

“I am glad that this whole experience has collectively been a pleasant one, Your Highness.” Dedue responded as they neared the dining hall. “You deserve to be happy.”

Dedue’s words echoed in Dimitri’s head, ringing alongside Sylvain’s previous sentiment. Guilt wrung his heart until the familiar pangs of remorse pounded in his chest.

“Do I... Do I really deserve such a thing?”

“Without a doubt, Your Highness.”

“Even after everything that I’ve done... Even after... everything... I still... deserve it?”

“Of course, Your Highness. You deserve to be happy, just like everybody else.”

As the duo ascended the stairs and approached the Lions that were all congregated together for Dimitri’s cause, the prince’s features relaxed and-- just for a moment-- the voices that incessantly plagued his thoughts ceased.

“Thank you, Dedue.”

“I am always happy to help, Your Highness.” Like his prince, Dedue’s rough exterior melted away to reveal a warm, genuine smile.

“Hey, there you are!” Sylvain bounded up to them, meeting them halfway across the platform. “We were gettin’ worried about you! What happened?”

After Dimitri and Dedue explained what transpired, Sylvain couldn’t help but laugh at the terrible wonderful luck that Dimitri possessed.

"Dedue really got you out of a tough spot, huh?”

“As he always does.” Dimitri cast a grateful look at his retainer.

“I was shocked when I learned that (F/N) was actually scheduled today.”

“What were you gonna do if she wasn’t?” Sylvain queried.

Dedue paused thoughtfully.

“Perhaps I could have asked her to help me weed the courtyard, or to tend the horses.”

“Fair enough.” Sylvain nodded. “Well, it’s getting late so people are starting to leave the dining hall. Hopefully by the time (F/N) is done tending the plants, you two will be all alone.”

Sylvain wriggled his eyebrows and peered cheekily at the reddening face of the prince.

“Please do not be so nervous, Your Highness. (F/N) will surely appreciate all the effort you had put in.”

“Yeah!” Sylvain propped an arm on Dimitri’s shoulder. “Remember what I told you, Your Highness? You’re the leader of the Blue Lions! Start actin’ like your namesake! You gotta be bold!”

“R-Right. Bold.” Truthfully, Dimitri looked anything but; however, this only prompted a deluge of much-needed encouragement and hype that the two happily supplied-- Sylvain taking a more... fiery approach to his psyching while Dedue slightly doused the ecstatic flames set by the redhead with more grounded assurances.

“Now remember, Your Highness. Look her in the eyes, smile, and tell her that she’s beautiful. Like this!” Sylvain turned to Dedue, who suddenly became an unwilling participant in the playboy’s example.

“Hey, babe. You look gorgeous tonight. I gotta admit, I’m no mathematician, but I can still see you’re a ten outta ten.”

“Please get away from me ... Thank you, Sylvain.”

Dimitri stared at the duo with a confused fixed smile plastered on his face. The gears in his head took their sweet, sweet time to churn and process the cursed pick-up line, but it eventually clicked.

“Hah! I get it now! That’s a great one, Sylvain. I’ll definitely remember that.”

A flush of pride stained Sylvain’s cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Thanks! Oh, here’s another one. This one’s also super popular with the ladies.”

Sylvain cleared his throat and turned to Dedue, who was quietly trying to shuffle away.

“Hey, hun. Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

“If that is the case, perhaps it would be in your best interest to stop looking at me.” Dedue lightly glared. Dimitri’s eyes crinkled gleefully.

“Ah, these are all wonderful! I look forward to using them on (F/N).”

“Great! But remember Your Highness-- too much of a good thing is a bad thing. You can’t just spout a couple lines like that and expect her to fall for you instantly. You gotta do it tastefully.”

“Tastefully... Got it.”

Dimitri nodded his head, soaking and digesting this newfound knowledge. His eyes suddenly shot up, excitement bubbling out of its watery depths.

“Oh! It appears that I have come up with something!”

“Go for it, Your Highness!”

“I’ve got no taste, but I’d still like a bite of you.”

. . .

“Sylvain?”

. . .

“Dedue?”

. . .

“... Perhaps the map one wasn’t so terrible after all.”

“You said it, Dedue.”

“Wha--! Surely it wasn’t that atrocious, was it?”

“I believe it would serve His Highness well if you taught him more pick-up lines, Sylvain.”

“Sure. Whatever it takes to keep him from saying stuff like that.”

“H-Hey!!!”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

After sprinkling the few remaining drops of water onto a patch of slightly wilting plants, you dropped the empty watering can with a clatter and threw your arms high above your head, stretching all the bundles and ties that knotted in your shoulders. Your stomach gurgled and a pulse of hunger radiated throughout your core. Perhaps it wasn’t the brightest idea to completely skip your meals.

You placed the watering can in the shed and, making sure everything was as orderly as it could be, stalked out of the greenhouse while still massaging the few stubborn knots that remained tied in your muscles. The sun had long disappeared below the horizon; whatever light remained served only as a prelude to the beginnings of a starry night.

A nippy breeze nibbled your exposed skin, contrasting the slightly humid atmosphere that you’ve grown accustomed to in the greenhouse. Teeth chattering and tummy churning, you hastened your feet to move faster to the brightly lit dining hall.

As you approached the door, you were pleasantly surprised to see that the hall was practically empty, save for some guards and faculty sneaking in a nightly snack-- but even they didn’t linger for long. As you were racking your brain for ideas on what to eat, you walked into the warm building; the ambrosial aroma of succulent, roasted duck caught your attention immediately.

To say that you didn’t shed a small tear from the experience would be a lie.

You scouted and scoured the kitchen for the fowl of your dreams, but it eluded you. Where in the world could this duck--

“A-Ahem.”

You had come dangerously close to collapsing from shock.

Your body jumped and slowly turned around to face the owner of the voice.

“Good evening, (F/N). You look as radiant as ever.”

A young man wearing a white suit decorated with small pins and medals stood before you. Gloved, quivering fingers delicately brushed the lone strands of hair that slipped onto his forehead to the side.

“D-Dimitri...? Is that you?”

“Ah y-yes, it is I. Please forgive me if I had surprised you.”

“N-Not at all!” You replied, your cognitive processes hiccuping at the sight of this magnificent angel. The light from the torch gently surrounded the prince with an almost ethereal quality, rendering him simply divine. The corner of his lips turned up slightly, pulling his handsome features into a half-smirk.

“Please, allow me to escort you to our table.”

“O-Okay...”

He took a step towards you and his eyes flickered down; you followed his gaze and saw his slightly shaking hand slowly reaching for yours.

“May I...?”

Whether it was a simple case of the jitters or the excitement bubbling from within, it didn’t matter much as you enthusiastically clasped your hand in his. Dimitri froze in place, every muscle in his being stiffening at that small point of contact. However, he managed to get his racing pulse (somewhat) under control-- just enough to pull you into a stiff walk at least.

“Please follow me, (F/N).”

The pounding in Dimitri’s heart found its way into his ears, drumming and thundering an aggressive beat. He never knew that fear and glee could intertwine so readily with one another-- until he felt your hand gently press into his palm. Worries and questions and warmth spurred his thoughts into a hazy flurry of emotion. Was he squeezing too hard? Was he holding your hand correctly? Were you at all uncomfortable? Oh Goddess, you look so beautiful when you smile like that--

“Ah! Dimitri, what is all this?”

“W-Well,” Dimitri swallowed what felt like a boulder, “it is our dinner.”

“Our... Dinner...?”

“Yes. Um...” His locked fingers reluctantly separated from yours. “We have prepared a roasted duck, a fine, savory pastry called ‘garlic bread,’ a simple salad, and baked sweets made by Mercedes. I pray this is enough to whet your appetite.”

“You whet my appetite Everything looks so good...” You swallowed thickly, eyes resting heavily on the succulent fowl. “Heh, well... I actually didn’t eat at all today, so--”

“I beg your pardon?!” You blinked and immediately found yourself sitting in front of the palatable entrees. Dimitri’s countenance-- full of concern and tinged with anger-- stared at you from across the sea of food.

“You mustn’t skip meals. That is terribly unhealthy for you.”

“You’re one to talk, Dimitri!” You laughed. “You skip meals all the time!”

Dimitri’s visage fell and his entire face took on all shades of red.

“I... admit, I am not one to berate you on this matter, but regardless, I ask that you still heed my warnings... You should never skip meals.”

Giggling to yourself, you rested your chin on folded hands and your head tilted slightly. That, combined with your killer smile and rosy cheeks, introduced Dimitri’s palpitating heart to a livelier pace.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do my best not to skip meals.”

“Urgh-- Yes! Please... don’t.”

Your lips curved into a smile and your eyes lustily darted to the food in front of you.

“Well, let’s dig in, shall we?”

You, of course, immediately reached for the duck-- as did Dimitri.

Your hands collided en route to the silver cutlery by the fowl, and a fountain of apologies spewed out of either of you. Dimitri, somehow managing to awkwardly bounce back from the innocent error, cleared his throat and took this opportunity to impress you with his... gentlemanly charms.

“Please excuse me, (F/N). Allow me to cut a slice for you.”

“Oh! Well, um... sure?”

Dimitri’s fingers rounded the shiny handles of the knife and fork before cutting into the tender meat. Delectable smells spilled forth from the bird, eliciting a growl from your stomach-- a... very, very loud growl. A growl that was loud enough for Dimitri to stop and look up.

“Uh... I’d like to apologize...” You mumbled ashamedly, your cheeks growing hot to the touch.

Dimitri chuckled, slipping a thick slice of duck onto your plate along with a small bushel of salad, a few pieces of garlic bread, and some sweets.

“Do not worry, my Beloved. I know you haven’t eaten all day.”

You smiled, graciously accepting your plate filled to the brim with food. You cut the slice of meat into more manageab--

Wait...

‘Beloved?’

It seemed that Dimitri realized his mistake around the same time you did.

“Dimitri--”

“Er, (F/N)! Aside from this morning, how was your day?”

“Huh? I-I mean it was fine, but Dimitri--”

“Ah, splendid! I am glad your day had gotten better. I was really worried when you suddenly left class like that.”

“Dimitri,” you cut in, “did you just call me... your... ‘Beloved?’“

Dimitri simply sat there as his brain was fried and shriveled into a crisp.

“W-Well, uh, I-- You see-- I deeply apologize for-- That was, very inappropriate of me--”

“Oh! No, no, it’s okay... Um, I was just a bit surprised is all.” You brought your cup to your lips in a pathetic attempt to cover the bashful grin that threatened to escape.

“Ah... Of course...” Dimitri stabbed a small tomato with the prongs of his fork and shoveled it into his mouth, his cheeks seeming to absorb the color of the little red berry.

You cleared your throat and thumbed the surface of a macaron with light fingers, a heavy silence blanketing the table. The quietly screaming royal took a bite of some garlic bread, his brain hardly processing the soft, fluffy texture of the dish.

Dimitri’s eyes widened inconspicuously, his mind flashing to the one thing that could save this dumpster fire of a date from certain demise--

His pick-up lines.

He could only pray that you were a fan of such things.

He cleared his throat and borderline slammed his fists onto the table, rocking a handful of mini cupcakes from their tiered seats. You quite literally jumped in your seat and got caught in the fierce stare of your house leader.

He can do this.

Come on, Dimitri! Remember your training with Sylvain!

He can do this.

Be a lion! Be bold!

He can do this!

“A-Are you ten? Because y-you look lost and I’d like to bite you.”

. . .

If-- in that moment-- Dimitri were to suddenly be thrown onto the path of a charging chariot, he would make no effort to move.

Simultaneously, you were well on your way to combusting into open flames-- if your swiftly coloring cheeks were any indication of that.

Neither of you spoke for a long time, gawking at the other in a silent, unconscious contest to see who could reach strawberry red first.

And Dimitri was the unwilling winner.

“I--”

“You--”

“I am so--”

“What did you--?”

“I am so, so sorry--”

“You want to bite me--?”

“Oh Goddess, I am so sorry (F/N)-- I can explain--”

“U-Um, perhaps it would be best for me to go...”

“Wait!” Dimitri shot out of his seat with a clatter. “I-- um--”

“Goodnight, Dimitri.”

You made a mad dash for the door, leaving the flustering royal a metaphoric fish out of water.

“(F/N)!”

He tailed after you, the delicious food that he and all the other Lions labored to prepare becoming a distant memory.

The sun and any trace of it had all but vanished from sight, replaced by its nightly counterpart. You were speed walking to the stairs when your wrist was snagged by a firm grip.

"(F/N)...!”

“Dimitri, listen, I really appreciate the food and everything, but I really should get going now--”

“Wait, please! I...” He gulped, finally throwing caution to the wind. “I love you.”

Your heart had stopped beating altogether and your lungs ceased operations. Your clenched jaw prohibited you from speaking, and you simply stared at him as those three simple words resonated in your mind.

“Er, that is to say...” He sighed, resignation taking hold of his features. “Can we... talk about this please?”

He loosely pointed to a nearby bench shaded under a tall tree. His hard grip softened, moving to interlace his fingers with yours as he led the two of you to the secluded spot. He sat with a deep exhale and pulled you beside him.

“(F/N).” He gazed at you steadily, his fingers rubbing shallow circles into your hands. “It is no exaggeration on my end to say that you mean everything to me. I-- along with the other Lions-- labored to make tonight the best it could be. Though truthfully, I never imagined my confession would turn out like this. But alas...”

Dimitri chuckled tiredly then sighed.

“I’m afraid I can’t hide my feelings for you a moment longer. I love you, (F/N). With all of my being. You motivate me to work harder, train harder-- to be a better man. You are so kind, and smart, and... absolutely mesmerizing. I can not keep my eyes off you, really.”

He laughed at your sheepish response then continued.

“You mean the world to me. So... I humbly ask that you... Um...” He cleared his throat and lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Be mine.”

A gentle breeze swept through, carrying his small plea along with it. He stared at you, intensely and unblinkingly, with bated breath.

“Although,” he added, pain thinly veiled in his eyes, “if you do not feel the same way, I understand. I promise I will not hold anything against you. If it’s not too much trouble, I... I hope we can still be friends after all this--”

You dove straight into Dimitri’s arms, effectively knocking his words and the air right out of him. You felt his muscles tighten and the thumping in his chest blared loudly in your ears. You nuzzled your face into him and looked up, smiling.

“I love you too, Dima!”

D-Dima...?!

Poor Dimitri looked like he was about to choke. The little streams of moonlight that slipped through the holes in the trees reflected off of the prince’s reddening face; for a long time, all he could do was stare at you-- cheeks darkening and eyes widening.

Finally, the Goddess re-granted him the ability to speak.

“R-Really...?”

“Yes! Yes, I do!” Your arms moved from his torso to snake around his neck, pulling him a bit more to your level. “I love you, Dimitri. I’ve loved you for so long...”

You drew him into a hug again, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The crisp, sharp scent of his cologne flooded your senses, sending pleasant tingles and goosebumps throughout your body. You felt the prince’s arms wound around your frame, pulling you closer to his racing heart.

“If this is a dream, I wish to never wake.” He muttered into your hair, thankful that he could appreciate the light apple notes that came from it to the fullest.

“This isn’t a dream, Dimitri.” You whispered against his skin, causing a sweet shiver to run down his spine. “I love you, Dimitri. I love you so, so much...”

“My (F/N)... My Beloved...” He pulled away from you slightly, cupping your cheeks in his hands and brushing it gently. He could hardly contain all the love and pure adoration he held towards you; the way that you and only you reflected in his beautiful eyes showed that. With a gentle smile he pressed his forehead against yours, relishing the moment.

“May I... May I have the honor of kissing you, my love?”

His hot breath tickled your sensitive skin and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sensation, in addition to his endearingly adorable politeness.

“Yes, you may.”

Dimitri’s eyes flickered to your slightly parted, wet lips and leaned closer, his eyes fluttering shut. You followed suit, guided only by the synchronous beating of your hearts. A warmth like no other blossomed upon your lips, melting any and all tension into nothingness. Your lips engaged in a clumsy yet heartfelt dance, eliciting an airy chortle out of you.

Dimitri’s chest rumbled with a chuckle of his own and he parted to catch his breath. Not a moment later, his lips found yours again and again, more ravenous than the last. Each kiss left your head spinning faster and your heart wanting more, more, more. His teeth nibbled your bottom lip, drawing out a gasp from you; his fingers found residence in your hair as he slipped his hot tongue into your mouth. He explored your wet cavern excitedly, every one of his senses wracked with newfound pleasure. Your moans and sharp breaths intertwined heatedly, sending your thoughts into a frenzy and numbing oblivion all at once.

The chatter of guards and metal boots clanking against cobble spurred warning bells in your head, and a painful reminder of how exposed you were for any curious passerby. Dimitri reluctantly leaned away, still pressing his lips to yours until the last possible moment.

“Ahem... M-My apologies... I got a little too excited just now...” Dimitri panted, a dazed yet elated expression on his face. You, panting as hard as he, shook your head in response and pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead, down to his nose, his cheek, and finally stopping at his flushed, pink lips.

“Not a problem, Dimitri. I know you mentioned you wanted to bite me.” You gazed at him teasingly.

“T-That’s...” Dimitri sighed, burying his face in your neck to hide his blush (though how hot his skin felt against yours was all the confirmation you needed). “Please don’t tell anyone what I said...”

You snickered and patted his head, smiling when you felt him relax into your touch.

“Okaaay, I promise.”

“Good. Thank you, (F/N).”

He pulled away from your neck and adjusted himself into a more comfortable seating position. He securely placed his arm around your shoulder and you both sat in comfortable silence for a long time.

“It’s getting quite late, no?” Dimitri mumbled out of the blue. “Allow me to walk you back to your room.”

“Actually, Dima... Do you think we can go back and finish dinner? I’m still really hungry...”

“O-Oh! I have completely forgotten about that! Yes, of course we can. Although... Regrettably, our food would have gotten cold by now.”

“That’s okay. Being with you warms my heart anyways.”

“Ah-- Um--” Dimitri coughed, looking away. “I confess that your teasing will take some getting used to... But it is a pleasant thing nonetheless.”

You giggled as he stood up and helped you to your feet.

”Hey, Dimitri?”

“Yes, my Beloved?”

“I love you.”

Dimitri planted a soft kiss on your forehead and stared fondly into your eyes.

”I love you too, (F/N).”

bonus: despite swearing to himself that he would *never* use pick-up lines ever again (its powers being too great for any mortal to fully wield), dimitri would still indulge a line or two for you if you asked him hard enough (and swore on your life you would never divulge what he shared with you to anyone else). and yes, when you two eventually got more comfortable with each other, he did get a bite of you from time-to-time but that’s a story for another day.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fe3h dimitri #fe3h #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri x reader #fluff #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fire emblem x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader insert #i had to pull so many all nighters for this one #hopefully the quality didn't tank or anything IJSDLFJLSDJF #fire emblem three houses fanfiction

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faunusrights · 5 years ago

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 14

IN THIS EPISODE OF THE OFFAL HUNT LIVEBLOG:

On the other end of the line, Cinder let out a tight sigh. “Yeah. Okay, well—I’m in a difficult position right now. I’m balancing a lot. So, that wasn’t, you know, directed at you or whatever… I’m just trying to deliver you to Atlas. That’s all.”

“Yeah,” Glynda said. “This apology sucks.”

CINDER FALL TRIES TO HAVE MANNERS. AND FAILS. BUT SHE TRIES.

it’s been a WHILE but i’m STILL HERE!!!!!!!!! also i’m a little late to the draw and also unlike w/ prior chaps i did actually read this one when it came out so i’ve had my first run already. BUT that means i actually get 2 Focus so lets get this party started

so we’re now entering into the New Umbraroot Arc which Frightens me on a deep and intrinsic scale because now i have no padding to ready me for whatever the Hell is going to occur, but i do know it will be gay(er) than the current content was (is/shall be) and here’s the proof

It had only been a day, but the sound of Cinder’s voice was a relief to Glynda’s senses.

glynda that’s gay. hey. hey. glynda have u been told yr a lesbian. lesbeeb. besbion--

“Not at all.” Thank god. It was one thing to be traveling with Cinder Fall. It was entirely another to have her checking in on Glynda’s well-being.

cinder: my well-being is SHIT but thankfully there’s someone nearby doing WORSE than me, which makes me feel better at least,

“Oh.” Our sounded strange in her mouth.

my favourite thing abt any gay media and content is that it’s gay in ways that hettie(tm) nonsense can only dream of being. when a story is abt a guy and a gal all the romantic tension comes from like. looking at a tiddy or getting naked or w/e the shit. here? it’s literally found entirely in the use of the word our. such power. i love it.

I went from unknown to one of Atlas’ most wanted overnight, which is charming… And also annoying, because they refuse to stop pasting wanted posters on every street corner.

i feel like cinder is the type of bitch to send pics of them back to emerald like ‘is my face ACTUALLY that janky??? my hair is a state. you think they’ll use a selfie if i ask nicely???’

Cinder hummed, affirmative. “Which would be unnecessary, if you hadn’t reported me.”

Glynda returned, “I wouldn’t have reported you if you hadn’t been committing a crime.”

glynda you snitch. you narc. you bootlicker. does be gay do crime mean NOTHING to you,

We left a funny taste in her mouth, almost as strange as when Cinder had said our. She tried not to examine it too closely.

again. look at this shit. this is real slowburn hours. this is how u DO IT.

Her heart was beginning to feel like a pin cushion with all the needles pulled out, little holes left in their wake.

would i be showing my age if i glanced at this and wondered if it were a reference to the inciting og offal hunt inspiration fic or. it does doesnt it. okay moving on.

“Okay.” And then, in an effort to change the subject to something lighter: “I’ve never broken into a country before.”

glynda’s complete and continuous inability to actually like. do what she plans on doing is SO funny to me. she’s going to be stealthy, she says, throwing a man aside in obvious fashion. i’m going to be subtle, she says, being as conspicuous as possible. she’s a disaster and i live for it.

"The Faunus." Cinder's voice was cold. "Don't speak to her."

this part of this fic is subtitled ‘cinder’s rank opinions time’, apparently. not that u can tell. but it is. dsfhgjsdfghjghfjdk

In the silence that followed, Glynda thought of the stunted horns jutting above Cinder's hairline at the restaurant.

Glynda murmured, "That’s a horrible thing to say."

"Don’t start." There was no concession in her words. “I mean it.”

“...I just didn’t expect that from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There was something in Cinder’s tone that told Glynda that nothing she said would be correct. She said nothing.

cinder’s! rank! opinions! time! honestly this section victimises me the MOST as i very famously cried over an earlier section in which cinder thought abt all the faunus she grew up with, so i know that kc and diesel were looking to hurt me directly. that said i DO find it funny that cinder, yet again, looks like a pile of shit. she can’t do anything right. naturally inclined to be the villain completely unintentionally. what a moron.

A harsh laugh. “What do you think we are, friends?”

“Well, no—um. Not really, but—”

YOU SEE. CINDER. PLEASE. £10 FOR U TO BEHAVE FOR FIFTEEN SECONDS.

“Then, just—just listen to me. I’m going to get us there. I p-promise.” There was a soft sound, like disgust or the prelude to a gag. “Urgh, your soul—give me more space.”

cinder: i’m inclined to being an asshole glynda: every time yr mean 2 me i’ll make u feel worse cinder: ah no. ah shit. i have to be nice??? ah fuck. what the shit is this.

Glynda thought of Ozpin. It wasn’t a comforting thought—more like the memory of a near-accident, like sliding on ice and feeling the world shift beneath you. It was a flinch-thought, and it would have made her miserable instead of just homesick had she not shut it out so quickly.

god the writing in this fic is so especially pristine. everything feels so real and visceral and you just know Exactly how that feels. it’s brilliantly punchy and i adore the way u get have the exact sensation click into place. it’s SO good.

She wondered if it was the same moon Bacia and Vivienne had looked upon. If they had felt the same beneath its pale light. The Great War had seen two shatterings of the moon, so perhaps it had appeared different, but… Glynda couldn’t help but wish that it was something they shared, even lifetimes apart.

👈��👈

actually im a little nervous abt doing fingerguns because WHAT IF SMTHNG HAS CHANGED... but i think this bit is. safe. maybe. diesel. kc. am i safe,

Glynda closed her eyes and tried to feel out that instinctual power within her. Tried to know herself better. It resonated around her like a water in a tank, nearly palpable.

again this is just GREAT storytelling. i just LOVE how well kc and diesel turn abstract ideas into such physical manifestations it’s completely unreal. r y’all seein this shit???

upon checking his number, she’d discovered it had been blocked.

i love that glynda is abt as knowledgeable abt little jumps like this as the reader is. are we surprised as a reader? yes. is glynda also surprised? HELL YEAH SHE IS. SHE AIN’T GOT A FUCKIN CLUE MY DUDE.

Remembering the notes to herself not to trust Winter, Glynda opened the log hesitantly.

glynda no yr sending read receipts to yr future gf and thats a bad move on everybodys part

The indicator showed this wasn’t the first time Glynda had accessed the message. She couldn’t remember doing so.

OH NO BITCH U ALREADY DID

“Special Operative Schnee, things are…” Glynda paused, searching for something suitably vague to say. “Proceeding.

do you see what i mean abt glynda’s ineptitude. it’s slapstick levels of ridiculous and i’m living for it.

Do you suspect she’s attempting to cross the border?”

“Maybe.”

‘sure,’ glynda says. ‘you could word it like that if you wanted to.’

“Bold of her, if nothing else. She should know there will—” Glynda skimmed through the rest of the paragraph to reach the end, the corners of her mouth curling. “—can make arrangements. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

HGSDFGKHJSFDGHKJDF JESUS CHRIST

its like in fallout 4 when someone tells u important info and when u click past it the main character just goes ‘uh huh’ ‘yeah’ ‘okay’ ‘sure’ ‘mm-hm’ as the text boxes whizz by GLYNDA PLEASE

Bubbles appeared, showing that Cinder was typing. Glynda waited.

And waited.

The bubbles appeared and disappeared four times.

She flipped back to Cinder’s conversation and found that, after all that time, Cinder had finally settled on a reply.

It said:

“Good.”

i just had to pair these up for a second if only to say: dis me lol

okay let’s double back for a second just to cover this Juicy Lore:

If you’d like, I can arrange a bouquet of flowers to be left at your mothers’ memorial site. My thoughts are with you.”

For a long moment, Glynda simply stared at the screen. [...] In quick succession, she realized that it had been sixteen days since she’d met with Cinder in the restaurant and that it was soon to be the anniversary of her mothers’ deaths.

WHAT IS THIS LORE MA’AM AND MX??? **MA’X**??? firstly idk what the HELL the Black March tragedy is but im fascinated but also: did u have to do that. can ONE person in this fic not have [spoilers redacted cant say that yet no sir] problems??? no??? die. dsfhjgghjkfsddf

Glynda picked herself up from the armchair, neat and tidy, and disassembled into bed, pulling the covers up to her throat. With her Semblance, she turned off the lights. She closed her eyes.

It was quiet. Cold. The only thing she felt was the weight of her soul.

Her Scroll buzzed. Glynda answered it.

“Glynda.” It was Cinder. “I can feel that.”

okay following on from cinder’s text message, i just. love that cinder’s having such direct repercussions to her shitty shitty actions. like this is all tying together in some 👈😎👈 instances but having cinder be her usual callous self and having to literally turn around and start fucking Being Nice For Once is VERY gratifying. fuck you you lil round-faced one-braincelled baby. time to learn to have some Manners. jgdsfghsdfghfjd

She’d simply resigned to the loneliness of having no one to trust but Cinder, and then, not even having her.

... thats gay. hey lads is that gay? its gay. it feels gay.

“Yeah,” Glynda said. “This apology sucks.”

this feels like a reference to 👈👈👈😎👈👈👈 (IS IT. AM I RIGHT. IT IS ISNT IT) but also: LOOK AT CINDER GO. TRYING. BADLY. BUT TRYING. i love her she sucks so much shes such a dumbass. feel the consequences. feel them.

Glynda chided herself; Cinder Fall wasn’t capable of remorse, but she was more than capable of simple math. It seemed the worse she treated Glynda, the worse she herself would feel.

glynda: she’s doing this because it makes her feel better, not me cinder in like idk 20 chapters down the line:

(i guess thats another 👈😎👈 moment but for GOOD REASON)

There was a shift, like Cinder was rolling over, or maybe propping herself up. Was she in bed also? It triggered the remembrance of Glynda’s own physicality, and she turned over as well, searching in the dark for the nightstand and the lamp upon it. The light clicked on. The room brightened. Glynda settled in, ready.

OOOOOH THE PARALLELS. glynda turning the lights off and sinking into darkness and the void versus perking up and sitting up and turning the lights on when talking to cinder!!!!!!! POETIC CINEMA. OOF. OOF. HOW DOES FIFTEEN POINTS OF LOVE TASTE.

“Great! Lovely. Glad to hear it.” Fangs rounded out the words like scissors. A pleasant sense of satisfaction unfurled in Glynda’s chest. “So, once upon a fucking time—”

there were two gays and they were enemies to lovers but didnt know it yet. but they will be.

THATS CHAPTER 14 BABEY!!!!!!!! i LOVED this chap and i can rly feel kc and diesel gearing up for umbraroot. its great being able to like. feel the shift of focus goin on here and im SO ready to see this arc play out. once again offal hunt is the best fic ever made. this is a fact.

#rwby #liveblog #offal hunt #i almost typed 'offal hut' which is not the pizza hut experience i want

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yoon-kooks · 6 years ago

Text

A Prince’s Kiss

Pairing: Yoonkook

Genre: SleepingBeauty!AU, Prince!Jungkook, Guard!Yoongi, Fluff, Crack

Summary: Yoongi “accidentally” falls victim to an eternal slumber in hopes that his prince will come to his aid with true love’s kiss.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: also posted on ao3 @yoon_kooks!

“Umm, Yoongi?” Jungkook, the youngest prince in the Bangtan Kingdom, looks at his personal guard with the biggest eyes and the most innocent smile.

“Yes, Prince Charm-… I mean… Jungkook?”

“You can let go of my hand now,” he chuckles, swinging the entwined fingers up and down as they walk back to the palace. “We’re safe and out of the woods now. Besides, I’m pretty sure the bunnies and deer were never going to attack us…”

“Yeah, but what about the dragons?”

“Dragons?!” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. In fact, he kind of wants to see it with his own eyes. “Yoongi, we have to go back. I didn’t get to see the dragons…”

“We just spent two hours searching the woods for Totoro, and you best believe we aren’t going back for the dragons.”

“But-”

“Look Jungkook, I was assigned as your guard to protect your cute little ass from anything potentially dangerous, and Totoro and dragons just so happen to fall under that category.” Yoongi pinches the prince’s cheek. “I think you’ve had enough exploration for today. Let’s go back home and rest, yeah?”

“You always treat me like a baby,” Jungkook tugs his hand out of his guard’s grasp. That’s never a good sign.

“I’m just trying to keep you as safe as possible,” Yoongi puts his hands up and gets all defensive like the guard he is. “Remember there was that one prophecy about someone pricking their finger on something and then they fall into an eternal slumber? That could be you. So don’t go asking me to save you with true love’s kiss when it happens~”

“I hope it’s you who pricks your finger,” Jungkook says with the sharpest of hmphs as they enter through the palace gates. Not good… not good at all. Yoongi dies a little bit every time the prince gets upset, and especially when the anger is directed at him.

So he backs away and sheepishly follows ten feet behind Jungkook, only to ensure his prince arrives back to his room in one piece before ending guard duty for the day.

But of course, an unforeseen obstacle pops up before reaching Jungkook’s room on the seventh floor of the palace.

“Watch out,” Yoongi calls out, jogging up to the prince to hold him back from proceeding until the coast is clear.

A tiny hermit crab scurries in confusion across the dark red carpet of the sixth floor. It appears the most well-read of the princes, Namjoon, has returned from his studies at sea. And knowing what a klutz he can be, he’s probably the one responsible for his own crab’s escape.

With careful fingers, Yoongi scoops up the delicate crab which apparently is a threat to Jungkook’s life and watches it crawl around the palm of his hand.

Jungkook lets out a very audible sigh and continues to walk up to his room, completely ignoring Yoongi and his act of heroism.

“Jungkook, wait u- OUCH!” Yoongi yelps as a tiny red dot appears right where the crab pricked his pinky finger. Wait one fucking minute. “Jungkook. Come back, I’m dying. I’ve been pricked.” The guard runs, perfectly fine, to the prince’s room.

“You look pretty alive to me…” The prince pays more attention to the hermit crab climbing on Yoongi’s head than at the negligible speck of blood on his pinky. He approaches his guard and places a firm hand on his shoulder, but only to reach and grab the crab. “I’ll return this little guy to Namjoon, so you can leave now, Yoongi.”

“Did you not hear me? I’m literally dying,” Yoongi scoffs, pauses, and then starts yawning like crazy, “I mean, o-oh no… I suddenly feel sleepy… I guess this is it for me… Jungkook, I always wanted to tell you this, but I lov-”

What cuts off Yoongi’s chatter isn’t an eternal slumber, but rather the fact that Jungkook has already left the room to return Namjoon’s crab.

Unbelievable. Yoongi yawns again as he crawls into the prince’s bed and closes his eyes.

“I know you’re not dead.” Jungkook’s voice is still as harsh as ever when he returns from Namjoon’s room. Does the boy have no heart?

“Of course I’m not dead, I’m just sleep-… s-sleeptalking… yeah…”

“You’ll be fed to the crabs if you don’t get out of my bed in ten seconds.”

“I can’t… I need… true love’s kiss…”

“10, 9, 8…”

“W-wait, just hear me out… I need someone…”

“Who?”

“Jung-”

“Ah! Jung Hoseok! Namjoon’s guard. He’s your true love, huh?” Jungkook gets a lot more cheerful than Yoongi would prefer. “Let me go get him for you~” he hums as he runs out to fetch the other guard. The fuck is he so happy about?

After counting to 381 in a failed attempt to actually fall asleep, Yoongi hears mumbles just on the other side of the door.

“Why the fuck do I need to kiss him?”

“So I don’t have to do it!”

“But I thought you l-”

“We had an argument, okay?”

“That’s your problem, Jungkook. Not mine.”

“Fine.”

The door creak open, but it sounds like only one set of footsteps is audible.

“Hoseok didn’t want to kiss you, so he left.” Jungkook’s tone is a bit softer this time.

No response. Yoongi finally decides to shut up for once.

“Actually, I don’t think there’s anyone out there who wants to kiss you.”

…Well that’s kind of rude…?

“It’s because you’re no fun. And you lie a lot. And you’re old.”

True, but he could’ve left out that last part about being old.

“I know you’re only that way because you want to protect me. So I’m grateful for that.”

That’s actually really sweet. But what does that have to do with being old??

“I guess I just wish you didn’t treat me like a baby all the time?”

Okay, the old thing kind of makes sense now.

“Maybe things would be different if you didn’t see me as a baby or as a prince.”

Different in a good way?

“So… just this once, I’ll be the one who saves you… Just this once!!”

Oh? Is it actually going to happen? Is Jeon Jungkook actually going to-

The softest pair of lips brush over Yoongi’s, leaving a tingling sensation—a sensation Yoongi would like to believe is the effect of true love’s kiss. There’s a long wait period after that subtle yet alluring tease, but once the lips return, he’s sure not to let them leave so soon.

He leans in, eyes still closed, and kisses back. The mere thought of Jungkook being the one to wake him up from his eternal slumber is enough to overwhelm the other boy with a warm tenderness and affection. Because truthfully, there’s no one else he’d rather experience true love’s kiss with.

At long last, the time may be right for Yoongi to express the love he’d always thought was unrequited.

“Jungkook, I…” Yoongi opens his eyes for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s surprisingly difficult for his eyes to adjust to the dimmed lighting because the body on top of him certainly doesn’t look like the prince he knows and loves. In fact, it kind of looks like Jimin, Bangtan Kingdom’s resident sorcerer and the most sought-after boy of non-royal blood.

Oh no.

Yoongi rubs his eyes in panic. This must be some kind of mistake, or perhaps a bad dream. It’s not that Jimin is terrible or anything remotely close to that—in fact, he’s the boy most people would dream about locking lips with. But not Yoongi.

Once his vision has fully returned, Yoongi can confirm that the soft plush lips he felt had indeed belonged to Jimin and not Jungkook. What has he done?

“Jungkook asked me to do it on his behalf.” Jimin slips off the bed and blows one last kiss before walking out of the room.

All that leaves is a woke Yoongi and a quiet Jungkook sitting at the edge of his bed.

“Why did you get Jimin to kiss me?”

“He was the only one in the entire kingdom who was willing to kiss you,” Jungkook shrugs. “And even then, I had to bribe him with nudes of Prince Taehyung and his knight, Seokjin.”

“…Why do you even have their nudes? Wait, don’t answer that lol.” Yoongi tries to wipe those wild thoughts from his mind. “I guess what I meant was, why didn’t you just kiss me yourself?”

“Because I didn’t want to.” He doesn’t even try to sugarcoat it.

“Not even after all the sweet things you said while I was asleep?”

“You were never asleep!”

“Okay fine, but… you knew I could hear your words, and you still said those things?”

Jungkook nods.

“Then why couldn’t you kiss me? You said you’d be the one to save me.”

“I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Scared of you not waking up… and not responding to my kiss… and not seeing me as your true love.” He was scared of not being loved back.

“Jungkook, you know how I feel about you…”

“No I don’t. Because you’re a liar and a snake,” Jungkook huffs. “How am I supposed to know what’s real and what’s fake?”

Yoongi climbs to the edge of the bed where Jungkook sulks. With a deep breath, he plants a delicate kiss on the prince’s booboo cheeks. Rather than the tingling sensation he had felt with Jimin, Yoongi feels a mix of jitters and excitement, uncertainty and hope, love and bliss. And he only hopes that Jungkook, too, feels what he’s feeling. Euphoria.

The prince does his best to hold back, but a small smile still manages to slip as he nods in response to the bold move made by his guard.

“Jimin gets a whole tongue and I only get a tiny peck on the cheek?” he chuckles.

“In my defense, I thought it was you,” Yoongi pouts, “I wanted it to be you when I opened my eyes.”

“And I wanted to see dragons, but I guess we can’t have good things in this cruel, cruel world.”

“I’ll take you tomorrow.”

“Today.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tonight.”

“Fine, but only because you’re cute.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” Jungkook gives his guard a good squeeze. “I’ll love you forever if we can witness a real dragon together~!”

“Haha… right… a real dragon,” Yoongi nods, painfully aware that he’ll need to do some shady bargaining for Jimin’s sorcery in order to pull off this miracle. But if it makes his prince happy, he’ll do his best to make it happen.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fluff #yoonkook fanfic #yoonkook fluff #yoonkook #bts #bangtan #bts imagines #bts crack #yoonkook crack #bts royal au #bts sleeping beauty au #yoongi #jungkook #a prince's kiss

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yodawgiherd · 6 years ago

Text

Wind's howling

Rating: T

>>>Read on AO3<<<

“No….no, I’m still not feeling it. Take it off. “

“You can’t be serious. “

“Oh but I very much am. “

The make-up lady was patient, very patient in fact, but even she had limits. With an expression of total anguish, she turned towards the bald photographer.

“Dot. For god’s sake, we’ve been sitting here for the last hour trying different things, and you are still not satisfied. What the hell do you want? “

“I… don’t know! But not this, that’s for sure. “, he gave the woman a very friendly smile. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t work unless It’s perfect. “

She groaned, turning towards Mikasa who was perched on the stool and started dabbing her face with a wet cotton pad, removing the make-up she placed there a mere minutes ago. Behind her, Pixis started pacing around the room, muttering to himself.

“I’m sorry I’m taking so much of your time. “, Mikasa whispered, feeling the woman’s pain.

“Oh don’t be. “, she smiled at her, “You are an amazing model dear, not a word of protest or discomfort, I wish I could work with you every day. Dot….Dot is always like this. “, with a practiced motion, she wiped the eyeliner away with one sweep, “This is my job after all. “

“Mikasa, tell me, when you train, you don’t wear anything right? “, that was Pixis asking, coming close after he finished his round around the studio.

“W-What? Of course I’m wearing clothes! “

“Oh, no, not like that. “, he grinned when he saw her blush furiously, “I mean make-up. You don’t have any when you work out right? “

“Well, of course not. Why would I? “

He snapped his fingers.

“That’s it. We are going to make the shoot without any make-up. “

The make-up artist was just about done.

“Pixis…“

“No, no, it makes perfect sense! This is a gym clothes presentation, and I aim to make it as realistic as possible! “

Model with a naked face. You know what? Fine. The girl had a really pretty complexion anyway, nicely pale skin which complimented her black hair. The artist gave up. With a last shrug, she carefully wiped everything from Mikasa’s face, leaving it completely bare, before standing up and going to sit by the door with an expression of total apathy. The model-in-making straightened herself, looking around the room. It was arranged to look a little bit like the gym, with Dot having a few men drag in actual machines. There was a punching bag, bench-press, and a few more, but somehow, she didn’t feel right at home. Maybe because of the lights everywhere and the agitated photographer running around.

“How do you want me? “, she asked, kinda eager to be done with this.

Upon hearing the slight hitch in her voice, he stopped and walked over to her, putting a supportive hand on her shoulder.

“You are still nervous, aren’t you? “

“Yes…“

“Look, Mikasa, I know that’s it’s rather cliché to say, but just be yourself. “

“But I just…“, she hugged herself, the earlier boldness she felt completely gone by now, “I don’t feel like a model. “

“Don’t feel like a model? “, he repeated after her, shaking his head, “And how is a model supposed to look like? You have a body to die for, my dear, and it’s clear to see that this, “, he gestured around himself, pointing at the gym machines, “is what you are good at, it’s something you understand. So use it. The muscles you have, don’t hide them, show them! Be proud of your work! Look, If I wanted a generic blond woman, I could pick one out of the hundreds that apply here. But those, they wouldn’t fit like you do, you are a natural for this kind of photoshoot. So please, as I said, just act like you normally do when you work out, and ill snap a few photos. That’s it. “

Following his advice, Mikasa took a deep breath and walked over to the punching bag, hitting it a few times experimentally. The clothes she had on now were similar to her normal gym wear, tight cropped top and shorts, not hindering her movements at all. And as she gave in to the routine, everything, the lights, Pixis, all of the studio simply faded into the background. Why did it matter where she was? Here, there’s a bag, punch it. Mikasa was just getting warmed up when a hand fell on her shoulder, and after she turned she could see that it was the photographer, eyes shining.

“That was amazing! The expression of perfect focus! The grace! The strength! “

“Ehm… Why did you stop me then? “

“Well, “¸ he pointed at her chest, “we need you to change clothes, I got this set covered. “

This went on for some time, with Mikasa being left to her own devices, Dot only chiming in when he needed her to dress in something different. It was…relaxing after all. There really was no pressure from anyone, just a few quick easy requests from time to time, that was it. And Mikasa, despite her expectations, found herself enjoying this. When Pixis put down the camera, calling it a day she wasn’t even winded, but looking outside she could see that the sky darkened significantly. And a new thought struck her.

Where the hell was Levi?

“It was…uhm…nice working with you…Petra. “

“Same. Be seeing you. “

And with that Petra, who he hasn’t seen since college, turned her back and left. Once he was alone, he leaned back against a wall, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. Fuck, this so was awkward. Levi really wished that he could have a cigarette right now, but there was some bullshit rule about no smoking inside and shit, so he ran a palm over his face instead. When she came through the door for the first time, they both froze. It was really her. He knew Petra back in college, she was his…friend? Sometimes he liked to think that they were about to be more. But then the stuff with Mikasa happened, Levi had to drop out, and he hasn’t seen her since. He couldn’t say anything, he just stared at her, unable to conjure any two words together. In the end, it was her who managed to move first, coming close with an outstretched hand.

“Hello, my name is Petra Ral, I’ll be your photographer today. Can we start? “

Taken back, he shook her hand, thoughts racking in his brain. Did she forget him? But if she did, why did she freeze when she came in? It made no sense. But Petra was already setting up her machine, completely ignoring him. For some reason, she just acted like she didn’t know him, and he, having no idea what to do, went along with it. She took the photos with an efficiency of a professional, talking to her model only when she had to, the camera in her hand snapping away. Levi followed every instruction she gave him as quickly as he could, and they proceeded swiftly, until she straightened and announced that they are done. And left, without another word. Fuck. To add insult to injury, he could see Mikasa approaching with some old man in tow, apparently deep in a conversation.

“…oh don’t be so modest, your ass is going to make that brand of yoga pants a best seller. And we haven’t even done the bikini yet! That reminds me, is there something else we could use? “, he was just asking.

“Well, I ride a bike…“

“Amazing! We could definitely use a new face for biker stuff, and you would look gorgeous in leather! I’ll put that on a table for Kiyomi. How about….“

But Levi just wanted to be fucking gone, the unexpected meeting turning his world upside down.

“Hey brat, you done? Can we go? “, he stepped in, rather rudely interrupting Pixis.

“Yea… Sure, ehm…“, she turned back towards Dot, “Thanks for everything, today was a lot of fun. “

Ignoring her rude midget of a brother, he smiled at her.

“Of course, anytime. I’ll be in touch! “

With that, they parted, with him going back to the studio while Mikasa came to stand next to Levi.

“What’s eating you? “, she asked, frowning.

“Nothing. Let’s just fucking bail. “, he walked away at a brisk pace, heading towards the exit. They couldn’t get out of this fucking building fast enough.

“Just act normal, please. “

“Sure, let us all forget that she broke your heart and…“

“She didn’t break anything, okay? We just ended it, it happens. “

Sasha groaned, frowning at Armin who was so pale that she wondered if there is any blood left in his face.

“I’m still going to spit in her drink though. “

“Please don’t. “

“I just don’t understand! Why would you invite her here? “

“I just…“, honestly speaking, Armin had no idea what made him call Annie and ask her if she would come to the bar. Desperation? Alcohol? Probably both. “She said that we can still be friends so…. Please? For me? “

“Fine! But you owe us. “

“Thanks Sasha, you are a doll. “, he leaned down, wrapping her in an awkward hug, but that didn’t stop her from frowning. Honestly speaking, she was very, very far from forgiving Annie, but if Armin begged them to try and do their best to act friendly towards her…. Damnit, she liked the guy too much.

It didn’t take Annie long to arrive, fidgeting with her buttons on the way in, clearly also not very comfortable. But well, promise is a promise. So Sasha wheeled herself over to her, pushing her dislike down and chattering away. With the help of drinks and the fact that she came here to work, not just stand around, the awkwardness slowly melted. It wasn’t gone, but it grew a tiny bit smaller, as everyone just sort of accepted her being there. It was surely handy that Annie was rather knowledgeable about this kind of work, filling in for Carla who had some charity stuff to do today and couldn’t be at the bar. With Eren at work and Mikasa and Levi doing god knows what for the fashion mogul, it left just Connie, Sasha, Jean, Armin and now Annie to move the work forward, even by a tiny bit.

With the day progressing, Jean was the first one to leave, saying that he has some errands to run, but both Armin and Annie continued until the sky went dark and evening came. Seeing them together, watching the teamwork they had, Sasha wondered what the hell happened between them that made them end their relationship. They just looked so good, managing to relax in each other’s presence even with the elephant in the room, making Sasha question if they truly moved past, or if they were only very good at pretending.

“I appreciate all that you did, but we are about to close. So unless you wanna sleep here, you should head out. “, she said, wheeling herself over to the pair.

“Oh, right. Erm…“, Armin scratched the back of his head while Annie played with the hammer in her lap, “We’ll be right out. “

Once outside the bar however, Armin realized that he didn’t want to part himself from Annie, not yet. Her presence just warmed him, inside out, something no one else managed to do.

“Hey, want me to show you something? “, he asked, doing his best to smile.

She nodded. And his heart fluttered.

It took them about half an hour before they reached their destination, a rooftop of one of the buildings around.

“Wow, the view is….breathtaking….“¸ she said, looking over the darkened city, with stars shining over their heads.

“We used to come here with Eren, back when we wanted a break from the world. It’s pretty relaxing wouldn’t you say? “

“Yeah….“, she leaned on the railing, and after gathering his courage, Armin followed, coming to stand next to her. Together they enjoyed the way the city was slowly lighting up with the thousands of little artificial suns. But then, then Armin looked left, and she looked right, and they saw something shining even brighter than all of those combined. When they kissed, everything, all the pain and suffering he went through was nothing compared to this feeling, because now, he felt that he matters again, that the future is bright and….

Something hard pushed against his chest. Armin staggered and fell backwards, landing on the hard ground and looking up at Annie, who was covering her mouth with one hand while staring angrily at him.

“W-What’s wrong? Annie? What…“

“Shut the fuck up. “

He had no idea what to say. Just a second ago, she was kissing him back as much as he was, and now there were tears of anger in the corners of her eyes, which she promptly blinked away. She was hurting, he could tell, he had to help her, do something…

“Annie…“

“I said, shut. The fuck. Up. “

She took a deep breath.

“I thought I can do this, but I can’t. We…can’t be friends, you understand? Armin, I wasted enough of my time on you, I don’t want to see you ever again. Don’t write. Don’t call. Don’t ever contact me again. We are done. “

Shaking her head, she took a few steps backwards before turning and running down the steps, disappearing from his view.

“Your phone is ringing brat. “

“I know. “, Mikasa glared at Levi for a second before picking up, not even looking who the caller was. “Can I help you? “

“Mikasa….Hey….“

She frowned. It was Armin, but he sounded so….down? “

“Hey Ar, what’s up? “

“Can we, uhm, talk? In person? “

“Sure thing, where you at? “

She waved at Levi who drove past her and into the city, leaving her alone.

“Do you remember the old roof where me and Eren used to come. We took you too after you guys started dating. “

“Sure, I’ll be there soon. “

Mikasa didn’t really question why he was up there. Armin was a free soul, perhaps he just needed a breath of fresh air. Taking a moment to make sure the helmet was secure on her head, Mikasa started up the engine and navigated the motorbike on the road and towards the place where her friend was. But when she parked and walked up the familiar steps, her heart jumped into her throat.

“Armin! Why are you… Armin why are you standing there? “

He turned back from the edge, behind the railing, where he was looking down into the street below, and smiled weakly.

“Hey Mikasa. You came. “

“Of course I did. Why don’t you come here so we can talk? “

But when she took a step forward he took one backwards, shaking his head. He was literally one more step away from the fall.

“No, no talking, not anymore. “

Seeing him balance on the rim of the roof, she stopped, eyes wide. What was he doing?

“Armin, please, step away from the edge. You don’t want to fall, do you? “

He barked out a laugh.

“What if I do? “

“Don’t talk like that. Please, just tell me, what’s happening? “

“It’s just… I realized something. “, he turned away from her back towards the city, watching the lights. “I’m a leech. “

“What? “

“A parasite. I’m not even a human being. Back when I was kid, I was leeching on Eren, but then he found you, and suddenly I had no host, no one to sap life from. “

“Nonsense, you are Eren’s friend not some parasite. “

“Oh please, who would want to be my friend? I’m nothing. “

“That’s not true. “

“Isn’t it? “, he barked out a laugh, “ You are an amazing fighter, now even a model, Eren is a prodigy surgeon. What am I then? Writer? We both know the best use for anything I write would be if people used the paper to wipe their asses. Oh, you are biased, because you know me, but we both can agree that its crap. And other than that, what do I have? Nothing. “

“What about the bar? The work you do here? “

“Sasha took me on only because she felt sorry for me, Connie was more than enough for her. “, he shook his head, “I’m nothing. I do nothing, just steal time from other people. I’m trash. “

Mikasa was slowly but surely uncovering the truth. There was only one person who could get Armin, who was otherwise always so happy and full of life, so down.

“This is about Annie, isn’t it? “

“No, this is about me. I can’t blame her that she realized the truth sooner than I did and understood that spending time with me is a waste. You should do the same. “

Mikasa could feel her fists balling. She had no idea what that bitch did, but this was way too far. Way too fucking far.

“Armin listen to me, you are a great guy and an amazing friend, to me, to Eren, to Connie and Sasha, hell, even my brother likes you. Uncountable times you managed to cheer us up when we felt down, helped us in need, or just was there for us when we needed someone to talk to. And we both know you are a great writer, so cut that crap. Please, don’t let Annie do this to you, come here, and let’s talk. “

The wind was howling around them.

“Looks like rain. “, he said, not looking at her, still watching the city.

Armin took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Mikasa. “

And he stepped forward.

#eremika #fanfic #snk

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whisker-biscuit · 7 years ago

Text

Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 4

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Summary: Dr. Flug Slys is a successful psychiatrist working at one of the world’s most respected mental institutes for the criminally insane. But this new patient is unlike anything he’s ever encountered. Flug is determined to help him, nonetheless.

Black Hat has other ideas.

Note: All Black Hat POVs are in first person

Chapter 4: Naming Conventions

Before we continue, I suppose I should make a few matters quite clear.

First, I am not, as you humans say, beyond this world. My body is very much physical, for all of its horrific capabilities. I require sustenance as any other, although the frequency and form of it differs greatly from most current life on this miserable mass we call a planet. I also have the potential, hypothetically, to experience pain in its most basic, physical manner.

I have yet to encounter something able to do so.

Secondly, I have a biological drive, so to speak, in the same way all living creatures do. But unlike the pathetic urges felt by these creatures to survive and reproduce and further the existence of their species, mine is the unconditional opposite. I live to destroy, to halt the process of life and its advancement. These inclinations are most strongly felt during the potential removal of a soul – a being, if you will – from the corporeal world, but that does not mean I am unfulfilled in the more subtle eradications of the every day. Far from it; I relish the inconsequential inconveniences, the negligible nuisances, the eventual ends of equanimity that develop only from the consistent and repetitive breakdown of the emotional and mental states. One does not have to lose their head to, well, lose their head.

Third and last of all, I am not above admitting my faults. I will not deny to being prideful, or confident, or even arrogant. The accusations of those concepts mean nothing to me. But to be unwilling to recognize a mistake, or refuse to believe one can be made, is a dangerous and frankly foolish mindset. How does one expect to prove themselves the best, if they cannot seize their moments of weakness, however few, and use them as stepping stones to an even higher level of awareness and efficiency towards their claim? The thought baffles me.

That is not to say I allow my enemies or allies to recognize them, or admit to them there are indeed mistakes that I can make. Quite the contrary – one must always display a certain poise in the presence of others that does not betray any hint of fault, as failing to do so often leads to insubordination, mutiny, and challenge on all sides. A lapse in judgement is fine, so long as it is known to only yourself.

And so, of course, we reach my current predicament. I had one rare moment of weakness, and it was such an unfortunate occurrence as to happen in a situation where many significant details were at stake – the disruption of human lives, the destruction of human lives, and myself. Needless to say, my error cost me dearly, and I soon found myself captive at the hands of the detestable Inspector Marcus Daniels and his deplorable team from that blundering group known as Interpol. It was not my first time in incarceration, but it was the first instance in which I was actually treated as a more viable threat than most convicted individuals. Imagine my surprise and disbelief when I was finally released from my, transport, to find I had been dropped rather unceremoniously at a criminal mental hospital, of all things.

To say I was insulted would be an understatement.

Even more humiliating was the presence of who was supposedly my psychiatrist. A thin, clumsy, stuttering excuse of a human who hid his face under a paper bag and was so woefully unprepared for the task appointed to him. His boldness surprised me, near the end of our first meeting, but that was quelled easily with the threat of bodily harm. Humans are so breakable, really. I should have snapped his neck and been done with it.

But in the high brought on by my inclination, I forgot myself and my situation and erred yet again. I attempted to change the shape of my jaw, for easier access to wrap around the beautiful, beating veins of the throat and tear it open in the most visceral, painful way. But I was thwarted as soon as I tried.

That damned collar.

So here I was, confined in a high security room reserved for the most mentally unstable and unable to do anything about it. You could imagine my frustration, perhaps, in those first few hours after I was wrestled away from the pitiful doctor and left alone to do nothing but dwell on my newfound situation.

Of course, one does not create a means of escape without first knowing every variable, so I spent much of that isolation observing every inch of my outfit, my cell, and the door. I counted every buckle keeping me restrained – six – as well as every bolt covering the only way in and out – forty-five. No windows, no manipulated patchwork in the floor or wall or ceiling, and no immediately obvious form of liberation. Everything was a lovely shade of light blue, intended for its calming effects I’m sure. Even the blasted toilet seat was the same color. It too would be unhelpful to my predicament – nothing more than a basic hole in the ground with a foot pedal for flushing.

My mortification turned to fury rather quickly.

Unfortunately, the bloody padding was thick and smooth enough that my teeth – currently my only way of expressing my ability – could not puncture in any place I attempted. Ironically, it was not my physical strength but my…release of emotion that garnered attention.

I had admittedly overlooked the possibility of the presence of other inmates.

A few responded immediately to my outburst of anger, loud in their screaming and thumping. Whether they were declaring their presence, asserting their own dominance, or were simply emboldened by my actions I cannot say. Regardless, it was enough to startle me out of my emotions and instead pay attention to the direction and distance these sounds occurred in relation to my quarters. At least three voices, maybe more, all coming beyond the right side of the wall when I faced my cell door. Whereas I had stopped my actions quite suddenly, it took nearly five minutes for most of the others to calm themselves.

Fascinating.

Moderately satisfied with my conclusions – or as much as I could be in the present situation – I settled down on the raised cushioning that no doubt was meant to resemble a mattress. One side was raised in the imitation of a pillow, but no blanket or detachable items were available. It struck me as odd until I remembered a personal assassination of a high-ranking nobody in which I tied him with his own comforter and proceeded to suffocate him with his pillow.

Unlike the fools at Interpol or that idiot doctor, there was a semblance of competence here, at least.

My surprise the next morning was apparent even to the densest of people when I was visited by the same psychiatrist who had pressed my patience just the previous afternoon. He was not alone this time, obviously having learned his lesson; another man in a white coat arrived at his side, along with one of the guards who had so rudely assaulted my person. They stood shoulder to shoulder like a meager mimicry of force, and I could not help the expression of amusement from outweighing my irritation.

“Back again already, are we? I didn’t take you to be that imbecilic.” I took the time to incline myself against the far wall in the perception of laziness. Nonchalance is often greatly underestimated.

“Ah, I, I did say we have to w-work out a schedule while y-you’re here,” Dr. Slys resembled a skittish antelope, rather remarkably well. “Since yesterday, uh, since we d-didn’t get to finish our, your orientation, I thought it would b-be best to try again as soon as possible. I’ve, brought another psychiatrist if, if you’d be more comfortable with someone else.”

This particular individual puffed his chest up most pathetically at the declaration of his presence. “That’s right, Doctor, and I’m here to let you know that we won’t tolerate any breach of protocol or improper behavior from our patients.” He was reckless enough to glare at me. Fool.

In response to the feeble display at superiority I allowed myself a chuckle. “So it would seem. And what shall I call you?” He was considerably larger than Dr. Slys; at least six feet if I had accurately estimated the height of the security guard, to whom he rivalled in elevation. Nothing outstanding about his features, except perhaps the dainty silver watch along his wrist.

“I am Dr. Bautista, but you can address me as either sir or doctor.” The newest intrusion held up a clipboard in a parody of importance and clicked his pen most unprofessionally. “According to our records, you have no known history of substance abuse. Is that correct?”

His words had long stopped holding my attention, and I deemed the watch to be more significant. Not knowing the time and date can be so cumbersome. My gaze stayed fixed on the polished silver metal, waiting for the angle in which I could read it properly. The watch’s owner did not have the intelligence to realize this, as he cleared his throat in obvious frustration.

“I asked you a question, Patient 513.”

“So you did,” was my soft reply. Patient 513. How interesting, that they had already assigned me a number. No doubt an attempt to disassociate me from my former life. At yet another sound of aggravation, I flicked in the direction of the nuisance’s face. He had stepped closer, just past the human line of defense.

“Yes I did, and I expect you to answer it.” I studied the movements of his hands, waiting for the clock face to be visible. “And I also expect you to make eye contact in a conversation. Honestly, can you believe this?” The miscreant turned to his colleague, no doubt trying for sympathy.

He got none. Instead of catering to the ego of his fellow, Dr. Slys surprised the psychiatrist, and myself, when he looked directly at me and said very sincerely, “It’s 9:47 am, on a Wednesday.”

I had already written off Dr. Bautista as useless and of no interest to me. Yesterday, I thought I had come to the same conclusion about Dr. Slys. But now he tiptoed closer, and despite the limp I saw in his gate – my doing I was certain – he did not appear bothered by the decrease in our distance. He offered his gloved hands to me, palms up.

“That’s what y-you were wondering, wasn’t it? That’s why you were, um. You wanted t-to know the time.”

To see a human again who I had attacked less than a day before was unusual. To see him willing to visit me in my own territory, backup or no, was abnormal. For him to be observant enough to recognize what I wanted, and to give it to me without negotiation in his favor, well. It was rare to the point that I found I could not ignore it.

“If I say yes, Dr. Slys, what would that matter?” I could feel the edges of my mouth part fractionally, poised to expose my only current weapon. Regardless of subject, it was dangerous for anyone to feel they had power over me. Dangerous for me, of course, but even more so for them.

“Ah, well, I j-just thought, you might want to know, since you…” His goggles fluttered briefly in the direction of his colleague’s watch, but he did not reveal me. Smart creature. “Well, I know I like kn-knowing the date, and the t-time. It’s…easier. Everyday.”

“Is that so.” I could find no lie in his expression, despite the headwear. This was the second time he had been so earnestly truthful, and the second time it had caught my attention, for what reasons I could not say. I would have to be careful with this one.

At his eager nod, a good-natured smile stretched along my visage. “Well, Doctor, I suppose I should thank you. You may ask five questions, and I will answer them.” Both psychiatrists were visibly astonished by my change in attitude, and my smile spread further. Two could play this game of catching the other unawares.

Of course, the idiot Dr. Bautista attempted to open his mouth, but I stopped that behavior short with a hiss. “Dr. Slys may ask me five questions, and I will answer them.” He looked affronted, but had enough self-preservation to let his colleague take his place.

“Okay, um, okay.” He fretted with the serrated edges of his paper bag; a bizarre motion I had witnessed before. “I g-guess, we’ll start with what we asked earlier. Do you have any history of substance abuse, or currently using? Our records have no indications of anything.”

“No, I do not. Nasty, uncontrollable things.” I was not lying. Drugs of all forms – except alcohol, perhaps – were useful tools of destruction but entirely unpredictable in combination with my biology. One methamphetamine mixture could have no effect beyond an itch along my feet while another could leave me in the closest I’d ever experience to a seizure. There was no way of knowing which black market substances were pleasurable, painful, or nullified without personal experimentation, and I did not have enough interest in the subject to waste my time.

“Well that’s g-good,” Dr. Slys scribbled along with his fellow psychiatrist and looked me in the eye. “Next q-question. Are there any allergies we should be aware of? Food, medical, latex, etc.?”

“I have no such weaknesses, Doctor.” To even insinuate that human issue was insulting.

“Okay, um. Third question. Are there any actions you feel would be detrimental to your psyche? Some patients have a history of physical, emotional, or sexual abuse that can accidently be brought to memory in a, situation, such as restraining involving human contact or the sound of raised voices. We cannot comply with all requests, but if there is anything you think is noteworthy, we will take it in consideration. If you have a preference for the gender of your psychiatrist or physician, we can do that.”

“I do believe you offend me, Dr. Slys, to assume I am so easily triggered by petty things like those.” I had noticed that as my supposed doctor continued his query, he appeared more relaxed and confident in his posture. The stuttering had also vanished. Fascinating. “But to fully answer your question, I do not have many, requests. However, I must ask that your security keeps their hands to themselves. It was rather irritating yesterday.”

“Well, we can try our best to accommodate you, but I’m afraid that would depend on your behavior around others.” Dr. Slys moved on the weight of his heels and winced, clearly still injured. I offered him a cruel twist of lips. “Okay, so that’s about it for the preliminary. Now about your schedule, I was – we were thinking that the best option would be to start with a bi-weekly counseling session in your room, with me and possibly Dr. Bautista depending on…conduct. I would also suggest a three-hour period of recreational activity every day, and we can work out the activities at the beginning of each day. Perhaps after a full evaluation of mental and physical stability, we can include group therapy and/or outdoor privileges as well. Would you agree with this tentative schedule plan? Your first counseling session would be with me tomorrow at 11 am.”

I pretended to consider it, to assume as they did that I would be actually be imprisoned any longer than a week. “Yes, I suppose that is a plausible arrangement. How long would you estimate my sessions with you to last?” I tilted my head, amusement broadcasted freely.

“Roughly about an hour and a half, give or take.” To my surprise and admitted delight, he looked at me with narrow, calculating eyes and continued, “And I expect we’ll be having them for a long time, Mr. Black Hat. You shouldn’t underestimate our facility.”

I should have been incensed by his calling out of the real meaning of my question, but frankly I found it interesting. Here was a human who understood at least the basic rules of how I played. That he had willingly defied my orders the day before and was now matching my serve with a fair enough return was not as bothersome as I had earlier considered.

“Very well, Doctor. You may ask your final question.” I crossed my legs on the imitation mattress, nearly finished with our conversation, lovely as it was. But what he asked next caught me off guard.

“In your case file, it mentioned you had named flying as your favorite mode of transportation. Why is that?”

I could not help the bemused twitch of my eyebrows nor the brief, startled blink that passed my face. Dr. Slys waited patiently for me to recover, and the colleague at his side appeared just as rightly confused.

There was no gain or loss to be had by answering this, so I settled with a shrug and laid back, studying the unusual human. “Flying is statistically the safest method of travel.” He looked at me, and I looked at him. My mouth parted. “At least until it hits the ground.”

His gloved hands tightened on his clipboard in what I assumed was anxiety. Imagine my surprise when he let out a solitary laugh, not much more than a breach of air past his lips. It stopped just as suddenly as it started, and the doctor seemed shocked at his own action.

“Is something funny, Dr. Slys? I didn’t know humans could find a plane crash humorous.”

My psychiatrist was nervous now, and fretted yet again with that silly headwear, but still he responded despite the abrupt suspicion placed on his shoulders.

“I j-just thought it was a coincidence, a-a bit of a funny connection.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Unfortunately, my doctor has already shown to be more observant than he looks, because he shut his mouth promptly – I could even hear the click of teeth – and returned to his notes in an attempt to protect himself. His colleague was not so perceptive, however, and gave up the doctor’s secret.

“Hey, doesn’t your name mean a plane wreck? Like in German or something?”

Dr. Slys squeaked most unbecomingly, but it was too late. As someone who prides myself on my knowledge of social etiquette and culture, I knew most languages thoroughly, and those of Indo-European roots were no exception.

“A flugzeugabsturz?” I gave my psychiatrist a lengthy once-over, considering him. “No, your last name is Slys. But you pronounced it as the English adoption. So how…?” As I calculated, Dr. Slys’ body language grew more nervous, apprehensive even. “Perhaps not German, then.” The answer came to me just as my doctor appeared ready to flee, and I smiled.

“Icelandic, I do believe.” My delight heightened at the stiffness setting in his legs. “Plane crash. Flugslys. Dr. Flug Slys.” I practically purred the word. “Do tell me, since you pronounce your last name so hideously, does your first name follow its Icelandic rule, or is it more barbaric? Floooog.” My psychiatrist shuffled backwards to the door. “Fl-ugh.”

That was it. That was how he introduced himself. I watched, twitching grin wrapping my face as Dr. Flug Slys grabbed his oblivious colleague and the forgotten guard and hauled them out. There is a lot of power in names, you see, and he seemed to know it as much as I did. The two doctors stood just outside my cell and whispered hushed nothings while I laughed longer and louder than I had since my capture.

“It truly is a pleasure, Flug Slys!” I raised my voice, standing and gliding to the center of the room. I could see the top half of brown paper through my window. “I look forward, to our first real session tomorrow. You are a fun one indeed, Dr. Flug.”

Every use of his name sent my psychiatrist into a flinch until he disappeared from my sight and I heard his retreating, feathery footsteps leave the hall. The mirth from the encounter left me in a much better mood than I had expected while confined here. Perhaps I would not be so short of entertainment.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough, in my honest and humble opinion.

#villainous #villainous au #asylum au #dr flug #black hat #demencia #paperhat

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yourheartsaremine-blog · 8 years ago

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You’ve been matched with...

@arashino This one is a little more serious considering who the character in question is. :’D You didn’t list him as a character you didn’t want to be matched with so hopefully this is okay.

Well the scenario’s not serious because.....idk ?__?

I feel like you’d be a good match for Akechi! The fact that you’re not someone who only maintains a single, constant demeanor is definitely a good thing for this boy; he’s not the most in tune with his controlling his emotions and all of those self-deprecating thoughts that haunt him, so having someone who can be sweet but also bold enough to go against him when needed is vital. He can be stubborn with some of those fixed beliefs of his, so he requires a person who can fight back with their own viewpoints and tear down those walls that he’s constructed. Akechi tends to hold people at a distance at first, but if you persist in staying close to him and showing him that you genuinely care, then you may find yourself gradually breaking through that carefully tailored mask. He’s definitely a very difficult person to “crack”—he’ll become very resistant and conflicted, even if a large part of him wants to accept the idea of a relationship—but he is a highly loyal and protective individual if you manage to get through. Akechi has a pretty good read on people (when it doesn’t concern himself, anyway). He’ll likely quickly pick up that you can be sensitive when others critique your flaws, and so he’d be careful to avoid doing so. If something does come up that he wants to discuss with you though, he’d approach it in a tactful manner; his desire in this case would not be to point things out for the sake of making you all the more aware of your flaws, but to help you grow past your insecurities. If it is something that can be changed and you express the desire to try, he will be there to help you grow and improve; if it’s something that is an unchangeable part of yourself, he will simply acknowledge that everyone has their own virtues and flaws. He will accept you in the same manner that he hopes that you accept him despite all of his own shortcomings. It also means a great deal to him if you are willing to help him improve; he knows that there’s little he can do about what he’s done, but perhaps with your help he can at least be guided to a better path. He honestly doesn’t mind too much if you’re a little clingy; it’d be one thing if it was with an acquaintance or someone who he doesn’t particularly like, but it’s another if it’s someone who is cdear to him. If anything, your clinginess may even serve to reassure the boy that he is loved and appreciated, something that he has never really felt in his life. You probably should expect him to be a little clingy in return, though! Akechi will be careful not to be so to the point where it’s overbearing (I feel like he’d have insecurities about driving you away), but he’d definitely make sure to stick close to you when you’re out together.

HCs (w/ Akechi)

He prefers to have quiet evenings with you above all else. Cuddling side by side on the couch while you’re both reading books is his ideal way to unwind with you, particularly if it’s been a long and stressful day at work. Sometimes he doesn’t mind if there’s some soft music playing as well, so if you happen to be writing on a laptop or something beside him, he may request that you put something on.

Speaking of music, if he’s feeling particularly playful, he might put something on and then sweep you up in a dance. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a good dancer or not—sometimes it’s just fun to twirl around, and although Akechi usually isn’t the silly type, this is probably one of those situations where you really get to see his more carefree side come out.

When you’re out in public, you may find that Akechi will reach for and hold your hand. It helps him feel secure and happy knowing that you’re near, and he usually does this subconsciously. If you point it out early on in your relationship, he may immediately drop your hand and apologize, but if you are comfortable with the physical affection, then it absolutely becomes a frequent occurrence for him to lace your fingers together.

Some days will be hard. This boy has got a lot of things going on, and even though your relationship would make him happier than anything he can recall, it won’t repair every single crack. Patience is important here alongside making sure to acknowledge everything that he’s done wrong. Akechi doesn’t desire to fix or dismiss what he’s done, but he does want to seek out ways to grow and improve for not only his own sake, but yours as well.

HCs (w/ Phantom Thieves)

Futaba will be your anime/game, glasses wearing, and nerdy rambling friend! In all seriousness though, it seems like you two would get along pretty well in terms of both your personality and your hobbies. Whether you go to hang out at her place or she goes to yours, weekly anime viewing or video gaming sessions are definitely a thing! Akechi is a little intimidated by her (and the hacking skills he knows she possesses) but is grateful to know that you have a close friend to spend time with.

Makoto is your go-to friend when you have something to discuss about books or what you’ve been writing recently! She has a ton of great book recommendations, and is always eager to learn of new things to pick up and read herself. She’s also always willing to provide you with a listening ear if you ever feel the need to rant about anything, and is just the kind of level-headed person who gives you great advice.

I feel like Ann would be fantastic friend for you! She’s so friendly and easy-going that I think it’d be easy to relax around her, and she’s also someone who is fairly empathetic and knows when to tread carefully lest she accidentally hurt someone with her words. She’d be the type of person to encourage you to come out of your shy shell more and be comfortable with yourself, though it’s not something that she pushes if you’re obviously resistant.

Short scenario:

Futaba swings by to play video games with you, and Akechi is awkward.

Akechi going to work on Sunday was not common, but also not entirely unheard of either. It had been disappointing to know that the two of you wouldn’t be able to spend the day together as you wanted to, but you acknowledged that little could be done about that; work is work, after all. Still, the prospect of spending the day doing nothing but laze around on your lonesome didn’t sound particularly appealing, so you decided to fire a message off to your friend. Futaba, who had responded almost immediately, agreed that a gaming session sounded like fun and let you know that she’d be there within the hour. Thirty minutes later, there the two of you were, perched on the couch with your controllers in hand. Futaba was jamming hard at the buttons, as if believing that the intensity of her button-smashing would directly result how strong her character’s attacks were. To be fair, you thought that that wasn’t a totally unreasonable assumption; she was absolutely dominating the enemy units, and you even momentarily stopped playing yourself to watch her character in action. “Geez, Futaba! How on earth are you doing this so easily?” Her lips spread into a wide grin, her eyes flashing from behind her glasses.“Hehehe, I’ll never reveal my secrets!” “Aw, come on!” The two of you proceeded to engage in a silly, mock bicker, only to stop when you both heard the door open. “I’m back!” Akechi’s voice called out, the slight breathlessness in his voice betraying the fact that he must have ran, “I rushed through everything as quickly as I could so that I could come back and—“ “Welcome hooome~” Before you could respond, Futaba had paused the game and turned, peering out from over the back of the couch as she called out a greeting. You turned then too to see that Akechi had froze, one leg half-raised as he had been about to remove his shoes. His eyes were slightly wide, but he was quick to collect himself, straightening up. “Oh, Futaba-san, hello. I…I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” “Well,” Futaba answered, propping her elbows up on the back of the couch and setting her face in her hands, “Your girlfriend was getting bored without you around so we decided a gaming session was an order!” Akechi turned to look at you at that, but he didn’t seem upset—at least, not at you. That guilty look was one that you were rather well acquainted with, and you knew that a talk and some cuddling later tonight would be an order. “I didn’t think you’d be back so quickly,” you offered in apology, “But why don’t you join us?” The boy’s brows shot up. “Er, would that…truly be alright? I don’t know anything about games, and I wouldn’t want to interrupt.” Futaba rolled her eyes. “Psh, we wouldn’t have invited you if you were interrupting! Now come here, young grasshopper, and let us introduce you to the world of video games!” She wriggled her fingers at him, and then scooted over on the couch so that there would be room between the two of you for Akechi. You could see him hesitate. With a smile, you beckoned him over with a hand. After another beat, Akechi slowly removed his shoes and jacket, walked in, and stiffly sat down between the two of you. You slid your controller into his hand, and watched as he stared at it blankly and then slowly looking up at the screen. “O-okay, what do I need to do?” The rest of the day was spent watching as Futaba absolutely dominated your poor boyfriend in every single game you played. You had wondered a few times if you should step in, but the light you had seen in Akechi’s eyes made you stop.

#Persona 5 #Matchups #Goro Akechi

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baesketballers · 8 years ago

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桜 sakura

gentleness ft. Kagami Taiga

Seeing you underneath the light fall of cherry blossom petals causes him to zone out from the conversation he is engaged in. After all, how could one not when seeing their lover basking, albeit unconsciously, underneath something so transient yet beautiful? The thought of how similar you are to the blooming flowers occupies his mind and emits a warm, slightly painful feeling in his chest.

Kagami, you, and the rest of Seirin are situated under a cherry tree, one of the many in Ueno park, for a hanami gathering—he forgot whose idea it was, but certainly he didn’t object. Kagami even brought along some rice balls for everyone to share, much to the pleasure of the team. In the midst of the group’s lively banter, a gust of spring breeze sweeps through the park, bringing some cherry blossom petals falling down ever so gently. The visitors of the park gasps in delight, not excluding his team mates, as they gaze up at the beautiful cherry rain—

—except for him. For some reason, he can’t stop looking at you.

You’re sitting across his spot, a homemade bento in your hands (one that he made for you) as you look up to marvel at the flower petals. Your lips tug upwards in a small smile, visibly pleased at the sight before you. Kagami takes in the whole of your appearance: your wind-ruffled hair, the outfit that you’re wearing, the look on your face...

When you avert your gaze from above to look straight at him, he almost jumps in surprise, as if he was shook out of his trance.

“Beautiful, right, Kagami-kun?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stutters out, “beautiful.” Of course, he pretends to admire the fall of the petals before his eyes fixates themselves at you again, because as impressive as those flowers are, you seem to outshine them effortlessly. Kagami continues to munch on his food, bento idly situated on top of his thighs as he lets thoughts wander.

Come to think of it, there are so many things in you that he finds comparable to those cherry blossoms. Like the petal that landed softly on your head, your gentle nature is an almost comedic juxtaposition to his gruff, rough mannerisms, especially in the public eye.

He remembers how you treat him like he’s not a teenage boy whenever you reach out a napkin to lightly dab on the side of his mouth during your date in Maji’s, and you claiming that there was sauce near his lips. There’s that occasion where the two of you studied together, and you very patiently stroked his hair in the midst of his frustration to convince him that he’d get the lesson. “Just give it a bit more time,” you said, and proceeded to offer him some drinks.

He remembers the subtle touch of your palms against his chest when he kisses you, the soft sigh you emit as he presses his lips against your neck in an unplanned, bold move—

Kagami feels as if he has a hard time swallowing and reaches for a can of soft drink, sipping the sweet liquid to help the food go down his throat. During the few months he has been with you, he realizes that you are no less than a compassionate partner, and although you might not be softspoken and graceful all the time, he appreciates you as a whole instead of that one aspect.

As Kagami’s mind runs, he observes that the liveliness of the team seems to melt into a peaceful calm, and so does the rest of the visitors. The third years are sitting next to each other, talking quietly (presumably about the future) with canned drinks in their hands. Kawahara, Tsuchida, Furihata, and Fukuda are grouped in a similar fashion, appearing more animated in their occasionally silly gestures but remaining silent, as if trying to copy their seniors. At the other side of the picnic mat is Kuroko keeping a close eye on Nigou to make sure the pup doesn’t get himself into trouble by eating weird things. The phantom sixth man catches Kagami’s observant gaze and sends him a small smile.

It is then you decide to stand up from your sitting spot to silently make your way to the empty spot next to Kagami. Kuroko averts his attention back to Nigou, not wanting to ruin the private moment between you and his teammate.

When you sit next to him, and rest your head on his shoulder, Kagami feels heat overtaking his face. Being in a relationship with you up until now still hasn’t erased Kagami’s slight embarrassment of being affectionate in public, but after looking at your wistful face as you stare up at the cherry blossoms, he is more or less stunned.

You look so peaceful, yet retaining some mysteriousness around you. You look entranced, but more than that, you look happy.

For some reason, his hand started moving on its own, stroking the top of your head as he nuzzles closer. A warm feeling rises in your chest at the gesture, but if you were to lie to him, you would say it’s the warmth of his body that engulfs yours.

He told the team that they could make their way home without him—he wasn’t going to end the day so fast, at least not with you around. So you parted ways with Seirin ten minutes ago at the train station, thanking them for their pleasant company during the flower-viewing and giving Nigou one last pat on the head, to which the Malamute pressed back against the palm of your hand as if asking for more.

“Where are we going now?” You ask your boyfriend.

“Maji’s.”

“...”

“What?” He asks back, almost defensive. You choke out a laugh.

“You’re still hungry, aren’t you?” You reply teasingly. Kagami stutters out his words, evidence that your guess is spot on.

“W-Well, that box of bento wasn’t enough!!”

“Alright, alright.”

Surprisingly enough, the fast food restaurant is nearly empty, for once. The two of you take the luxury of sitting on a wide, four-seater sofa by the window—the only thing Kagami doesn’t like about this seat is that his knees won’t bump with yours, but that can be remedied easily by holding hands above the table. As usual, he ordered a mountain of burgers to quench his appetite, while you modestly have only a Maji’s cheeseburger and fries. He’s more than halfway done with his pile when you are on your last bite, which is an impressive feat you can never get used to, so you offer him a small, almost silent clap. Kagami tries not to laugh with a food in his mouth but it proves to be a hard task—the smile on his face is evidence of how ridiculous he finds your applause to be despite his attempts of holding it in.

Not more than ten minutes later both of you are sipping on your drinks while engaging in idle talk. His basketball career, your academics, how Nigou is the cutest thing in the world and how he gets jealous easily, even towards four-legged creatures. He pouts, you laugh, and when he takes his turn in teasing you the opposite occurs.

It hits him that the two of you are having the time of your lives.

And as you’re talking about how you’re interested in working out together with him, all he can think of is the resemblance between you and sakura. He remembers people saying how first loves don’t last, not to mention high school relationships, but even then, he can’t help but wish you’re not as transient as the blooming flowers, withering after two weeks of covering the earth with bliss. He wants you to be infinite, forever his, no matter the circumstance and situation.

“Kagami-kun, are you listening?”

“Huh? Uh, u-umm—”

“You look out of it for a second just now.” He feels the cool of your hand pressing against his forehead, pushing some of his hair back. “Are you feeling okay?”

No, I’m not feeling okay, his mind answers, I want to tell you ‘I love you’ so bad, but it’s too soon for that, isn’t it? You’d shy away if I did, so here I am, figuring out what to say to you.

“I’m fine, really,” he offers you a slight smile, holding your hand in his. You give him a look that says “are you sure?”, only for him to exasperatedly nod at.

“I was just... thinking.”

“Of what?”

“That maybe... y-you should call me by my first name.”

You blink in surprise, lips apart. Then you chuckle, which makes him doubt himself for a second—is the notion that weird?—until he sees the pink dusting your cheeks.

The laughter dies down, leaving you biting at your lip slightly due to the butterflies uncontrollably whipping up a storm in your stomach. Kagami’s hand is still enclosing yours, and his thumb draws soft circles on your skin as if to say that it’s okay if you don’t want to do it yet.

“Taiga,” you try his name out on your lips, “Taiga... kun?”

His heart jumps as if it were trying to escape his ribcage, and this time he’s blushing. You press a hand against your mouth to stifle your laugh.

“Just Taiga,” he blurts out. “Just Taiga is fine.”

Yes, it’s fine, he thinks. He can take it slow, because you’re not going to stop blooming in fourteen days. He will make sure to take care of you for as long as he needs to, if that means you will stick with him. He has plenty of time to spend with you, and one day the right time to say those three words for you will arrive.

Hopefully, when it does, you’ll reply with the same words, too.

#kagami #kagami taiga #kuroko no basket #knb #writing #reader insert #scenario #imagine #hanakotoba

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

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[RO] [NSFW] Pray for Two

I was upset over a girl this Christmas and sought to drain some bitter emotion in a manner that didn't involve excessive drinking and masturbation. I appreciate comments, tips, and reviews

Pray for Two

It’s custom that on Christmas, before my parents and I sit around our ornamented table to eat, we attend mass at the local Roman Catholic Parish. We spent the daybreak in a shouting match about my refusal to emerge from my *dziura and leave with them to church.

Polish word for “hole”. The narrator's father uses it to describe his son's room.

By the time I finished masturbating, it was twelve; afternoon mass had just commenced. I contemplated blowing it off completely, but figured it was the least I could do for my father as he never ceases to remind me that nothing would bring him more joy than my company at Sunday night mass.

I dressed in a plaid red flannel, light gray slacks, a light gray peacoat, and a pair of brown suede dress shoes. If I wasn’t so pressed on time, I’d have swapped the flannel for something more elegant, for with the addition of my beard, I looked like a lumberjack in the early stages of converting to a gentleman. However, once I shaded my eyes with a pair of dark amber Wayfarers and gazed at my reflection in a tinted car window, I felt like a thin white Rick Ross (the rapper). And so I started toward the end of my block taking long lofty steps. At the end, down by where the community piled their garbage twice a week, a small pup was dragging his nose on the ground. The pup was preceded by a small, fair-skinned girl with dainty features. Two flat antlers protruded from her cherry-red hair. The dog whipped her around and I observed a small red sphere extending from her nose. As I approached, I recognized her to be the young Jewess who moved into my neighborhood about four years ago. Upon her arrival, she was only fifteen, and although her blossoming beauty radiated to a dangerous degree, I always managed to keep myself in check while in her presence. We hit it off pretty fast—she was quick-witted and bookish. It was easy with her, you’d introduce a topic, a recent event for example, even just a headline that you read, and she already had a thought-out opinion of the matter. And even if you played devil’s advocate, as I often did, she’d cement through with bold conviction. Back then, I rejected her chutzpah. At the time, the only thing I was confident about was being unsure of everything. That was until she convinced me that confidence, even in the face of uncertainty, is the only way forward. Once I was convinced, I became both jealous of and feverishly attracted to her.

She turned eighteen at the start of one summer and literally parted her legs before me the minute the clock struck eleven forty-three pm, the time recorded on her birth certificate. We had gone out for dinner at The Olive Garden that evening—our parents knew that she and I would talk for long stretches of time outside and didn’t think much of it. My parents liked her; they remarked that she was always cordial whenever running into her outside in the neighborhood. My mother would blush whenever she came up during dinner-table conversation, “I heard the neighbor girl got accepted into Princeton,” she said one evening. “Yeah, she did. . . but I think she’s choosing The Rhode Island School of Design,” I replied. My father looked up after forking up some pickled cabbage, “Perhaps she’ll convince you to go back to school,” he snickered under his breath with grim sarcasm. At the time I was in the midst of a brief hiatus, taking a year or so to master the art of Chinese food delivery.

I once asked her how her parents felt about me as a serious prospect, and she replied, “Have you ever baked a dreidel?” I said nothing in response, understanding the message, but she proceeded to pinch my cheek saying, “Aw, fuck ‘em, you’re my favorite little gentile.” With me at six-two and her at five-four, I towered over her.

At The Olive Garden the night of her eighteen birthday, she took a breadstick and began to wiggle it horizontally as if trying to perform the rubber pencil illusion. She then turned her head and pressed the tip of the breadstick against her rouge lips. She kissed it lightly and turned to me, smiling coyly. Then, without waiting for my initial reaction, she shoved the stick into her mouth and ferociously chomped down on it before chucking it back into the basket while crumbs were still raining down onto the table. Afterward, she fell into a wild hysteria, laughing like a hyena, gripping her stomach with one hand and pointing at my frozen wide-eyed gaze with the other.

That night, I paid seventy dollars in exchange for three unbothered hours with her in a bedroom at a Days Inn down the street from the restaurant. She was ravenous from the get-go, and we nearly skinned each-other when removing clothes, but once bare, I slowed the tempo—her growing more feverish with every graze. It was tight when I inserted. I manipulated my stroking sequence taking feedback from her every micro expression. We commenced the Bang-Mitzvah with missionary and for at least five minutes she vocalized nothing but high-pitched mouse-like squeaks. Then she looked into my eyes, wrapped her hands around my neck, brought me down to a hair's width away from her face and said, “I’m glad it’s you. . . .”

As I approached her this Christmas morning, she smiled, the sun glinting off her face as if it were the surface of a lake.

“Hey, how you been? How’s school?” I said while bending down to pay my respects to her furry little brown blotched shih tzu.

“Oh, it’s fun. . . have my own space now. . . the freedom,” she replied, sneaking a wink in at that last part. This caught me off guard. Ever since I took her innocence, we hadn’t really been corresponding much. She left for school that summer, and Rhode Island was a ways away from Staten Island. And a week after that fateful night, I was let off from my food delivery position. The owner informed me that the restaurant's old driver was moving back into the area and that she had promised him a position if ever was the case. But after about a week, a ‘Driver Wanted’ sign hung in the window, and I began to doubt her story. I think she actually caught on to me. At the end of every shift, I was supposed to report my tip earnings and fork over a percentage . . . I always skimmed some off the top though, reporting less than I actually received. She must’ve been aware of realistic averages from past, honest drivers. After that bombshell, my funds quickly exasperated and as at least one of our parents was always home, I simply couldn’t afford to have sex with her.

“Must be nice,” I replied, petting the gleeful pup. “I found decent work, but I don’t want to pay rent and share a kitchen with some rando.”

“What’s the job?” she asked while I rose from the ground, “And I get you.”

“I’m a. . . like a teachers assistant. . . I work at a school.”

“Aw, I’m so happy for you.”

I didn’t reply to that. Her pitiful tone indicated that she knew, or at least assumed, that I was going through a rough patch. Instead, I switched the topic.

“So. . . what’s up with the Rudolph theme? And that’s a wig right?”

“Ah, yes. . . . See, I’m a rebel Jew—you should come in and see my house, I’ve dressed this collapsible Christmas tree that I keep tucked away in the attic, and ABC Family’s ‘25 Days of Christmas’ is blaring in the living room.”

“Your parents are cool with it?”

“Oh, hell to the naw—but every Christmas my dad spends all day at his office and my mom’s in the city consulting with a doctor.”

I put on a thoughtful expression and became quiet.

“Yup, this is just the way I am,” she continued, “but come over! Let me show you all the cute little ornaments I put up for the day.”

“I’m actually running late for mass,” I replied.

“Well, if you’re already going to be late, it doesn’t matter how late.”

“Bulletproof logic. . . . I guess I can step inside for a second. I’m interested in seeing how rogue you’ve actually gone.”

After the dog hosed down the fire hydrant, I followed her inside. All the while I thought of our first and only fuck, and how, if I had the money and she wasn’t in Rhode Island, I’d get my own place just be alone and comfortable with her.

Inside was an assortment of Christmas things, mostly little knick-knacks sort of strewn about. There was a nativity scene on the sill under the kitchen window and I wondered if the depiction of Jesus’ birth was the same by Jewish doctrine. Ironically, the Christmas tree was topped with a Star of David. I couldn’t discern if this was done out of mockery or a whole-hearted display of cultural amalgamation.

“So. . . what do you think?” she said as I was gazing at the star atop the tree.

“This mesh of cultures is causing my eyes to well up. . . it’s. . .” I drew in air through my nose and skimmed my finger across a lower eyelid, “it’s. . . beautiful.”

“Oh, you’re full of shit. . . but thank you, that’s very kind of you to say.”

Albeit her saying that I was “full of shit,” a soft rouge blossomed in the centers of her pale cheeks; I stepped towards her and softly clasped my hands around them. Her lips parted slightly, revealing the blinding whiteness of her front teeth. Frosty blue rings around her tiny pupils gleamed against the cold, winter sun streaming in through the windows. I inched my head forward as if it were precious cargo being moved by a crane. As our lips met, I dropped to the couch beside the tree. My body buzzed warmly as if I had just taken a swig of old scotch. I kept my eyes closed, straining in an effort to send her telepathic messages. I yearned for pressure, I’d have settled for a slab of stone over me. And then she went, toppling onto me as if caught by a fainting spell.

Much like the first time, we stripped each other frantically, but when going through the motions, I realized she had gained much experience. While on top, she rode me in various styles as if it were second nature. Before, I was the sole director, now it was a mutual effort—push and pull. This left me conflicted; from one side I was a bit saddened at the thought of some gung ho college boy, or plural, taking temporary reign over her body; and from the other—her promiscuousness, dressing up in racy little clothing just to attend some haphazard frat party, being the object of unshakable desire, willing and ready for the taking, made her all the more alluring! It was enough to drive me mad with desire. I was aroused as I had ever been. Her flesh was as pure as it was the summer before she left for school, and now it was supplemented by experience. I was so lost in my burning desire and her plush interior that I couldn’t fathom a reality that was devoid of it. Clinging onto what seemed like fantasy, I asked her:

“Are you on birth control?” My breath was heavy, my thirst for air insatiable.

“Yes. . . kind of,” her voice faltered; her breathing matched mine. “Kind of?”

“Just cum in me!” she howled, gripping the back of my neck, bringing my lips to hers as I came down. No further questions, her resolve was what would finally drive me to orgasm. I have only once ever came inside someone before, and severe paranoia had followed me like a rain cloud for weeks afterwards despite the girl’s assurance that her ex always finished inside without consequence.

My muscles numbed as bliss spread from the tip of my penis through the rest of my body. My back hunched as I slowly pulled out. My thighs gave out and I collapsed on the carpeted floor, sprawling in ecstasy.

I spent a long moment simply lying there, catching my breath and recovering my senses.

“What did you mean by ‘Kind of’?” I asked, now having recovered the rationale one often loses during sex.

“I meant. . . it doesn’t matter if I’m on birth control or not.” “Doesn’t matter?”

“No. . . it doesn’t. . . it doesn’t because I’ve been diagnosed with cancer.”

“What?. . . When?”

She didn’t reply.

I raised myself till my neck was level with the couch. Her head was turned to the side, tilted up at the Star of David.

“Were you aware before the first time I was with you?” I questioned.

Again, no answer.

“Say something!”

“Look,” she said turning her head towards me, her eyelids like buckets of water preparing to overflow, “I did know and—”

“In the event of,” I rudely interrupted, “would you keep it?” “Birth wouldn’t outlast the cancer.”

“So. . . no?”

“I’d prefer to leave this life with a piece of you within me!”

“That’s murder!”

“And abortion is not?”

I fell silent and wished desperately for the ability to rewind the day, deeply regretting not remaining in bed.

“And this fantasy of yours is supposed to justify murder?” I continued after a tense silence.

“Who are you to speak for what goes on in my body? The fate of whoever is developing within me is no ones but my own.”

I fell silent and fell against the carpet. I looked up at the star atop the tree then shifted my gaze to the digital time on the cable box below the TV. Mass would end in ten minutes; if I sprinted, I’d be able to make it in time for a single prayer. . . and I’d pray for two.

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#Blogger #Story

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anciawendprocessjournalip · 8 years ago

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Individual Project

Preliminary ideas:

From the start of the semester I found it difficult to come up with a solid idea for my individual project, for a few weeks I had nothing while just aimlessly researching.

After about 3 weeks I finally stumbled across Vanessa McKowens work of mashing two things together to create a surreal still life photo. After looking at her work and researching more I wanted to create my own photo mash-ups.

For the viva I researched various photographers work and even sports wear campaigns and tried to figure out just how they did it.

I wanted to create images that were weird and bizarre, and definitely out of the ordinary. I wanted people to see my images and have that moment of “oh OH, haha I get it.”

Viva Shoots:

I started out with the idea of spaghetti being headphones. And played around with a small light box I have at home, and just using the material backgrounds that came with it. Although I liked the idea the execution of the images was not well done, and the backgrounds of the light box just looked awful.

From here I moved into the studio and used some light coloured paper on the S table to create a smooth even endless background, like a mini cyclorama.

Here I played around with some simple food mash up ideas, like the spaghetti-headphones idea. And I even tried just a simple mascara and chocolate idea, although this idea didn’t work very well as it didn’t quite make sense.

From feedback in class it was determined I needed to replace a certain aspect of objects or food, with something that ‘could’ look like the aspect I’m replacing, not just anything (like the chocolate and mascara).

I went back to do a simple test shoot of a banana and corn, I shot the two separately and photo shopped the corn into the banana photo. This was relatively simple. Although the background then has too many shadows so I proceeded to fully remove all shadows and have a very fake one coloured background. Once showing this image in class, Alannah and others did enjoy the photo although the fact it was a food and food mashup, not food and an everyday object, I decided to steer away from that idea.

After looking closer into my 3 past test shoots I realised the shadows did add the touch of realism the photos needed. As removing the shadows like in the corn-banana image it took it a step too far into the surreal. And I wanted to create images that still left you wondering if it could be real. And leaving the shadows within the image I believe creates that other dimension where the photos could in turn be perceived as a real image.

From here I decided to do some more research into other photographers who have explored similar photographic techniques. And I found Zucas Zarebinski’s work. Whilst answering my own questions for the VIVA I found Zarebinskis work had the photographic look I was after. His harsh lighting, which creates bold colours, was the same techniques I wanted to use for my images. The very direct shooting, of looking directly at the object was also a look I wanted to create. Also using a two tone image, of a surface, and a backdrop inspired me to start exploring using two colour background instead of one flat coloured surface.

Although I spoke of many artists in my VIVA I found Benjamin Henon’s Work very interesting. His images were very surreal and life like, that you could hardly tell if it was real or fake. This is exactly the response I wanted to evoke from my images, the unknown and disbelief of the surreal life imagery. His postproduction is so careful and complex I could only strive to be as advanced as he is. Henon’s use of everyday objects also ties back into the real. I wanted to also incorporate the use of everyday objects most of us use on a daily basis within my images, as this would allow the audience to relate to the images on a personal level.

After this research I explored 6 different object mashups to complete for my VIVA, I had written notes in my phone every time an idea would pop into my head, or an object that could possibly be used for a mashup. For my first shoots, I used a table with a coloured card on the surface, and hung other complimentary colour from behind to create the “wall”. My first few images were shot using direct lighting from the side; I set my camera on f8, 1/125, and iso100. The one directional studio light was set on 6.0 a moderately low setting.

The settings on my camera allowed for enough of the shot to be in focus, and at a very sharp quality and a slow enough shutter speed to catch the flash. These images came out with a very harsh shadow; so dark it was almost black. I firstly didn’t mind this, although after receiving feedback from Alannah it was decided to try and bring up the shadows, and try to reduce them for the other images.

For the other 3 shoots I decided to bounce my light against a large Styrofoam board. This created a softer light onto the objects, and dramatically less harsh shadows. Since I was now bouncing the light, but wanted to keep the same focus and speed on my camera, I bumped up the light to a 6.5-7.0 intensity to compensate for the light lost in bouncing.

Getting the lighting and backgrounds right was the easy part. The hardest part of this semester I found was coming up with good mashup ideas that worked. For my VIVA I wasn’t 100% happy with all of my images as they weren’t as refined and pre-planned as they could have been. Some of the mashup ideas, just didn’t work. As I struggled to find inspiration without copying other peoples ideas I had seen on pinterest etc, I spent almost an hour just walking through woolworths and kmart just looking and every possible object and correlating food item that could work together. Sometimes the inspiration would hit and then I would try it in the studio and it just wouldn’t work, or I couldn’t find the exact object or colour I was after. It turned out to be a much harder experience than I initially thought it would be.

Once I found objects and foods that would work together, shooting each object took at least and hour or 2 per mashup. As halfway through finalising my VIVA I decided I wanted the objects to be floating, as this again added in the touch of the surreal. Although making object ‘float’ is really bloody hard as I found out. Some objects were much easier than others, but some were almost impossible although the best solution I had was fishing line and a lot of bluetac. Although some objects just required some strategic placement and holding so it could be photo shopped out later.

Photo shopping the objects was time consuming although rather easy, some objects could be done in camera which made my life much easier.

Once it came time to present the VIVA, my images were getting closer to what I wanted them to be in the end. Although as I didn’t have time to reshoot all of the images, half of the images were still left with dark harsh shadows and half were the new lighting with softer shadows. Also there were some objects that were not floating and didn’t work as well as the ‘surreal’ images that were ‘floating’.

Once the VIVA was finished, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue with the duel coloured backgrounds or go back into single colours. But from feedback it was decided the two colours worked better than the single colours. From here I needed to explore further ides that worked together, and worked well together. Again I found myself taking random notes on my phone of objects that could work together. I again went back looking at the artists I had used for my VIVA more specifically Benjamin Henon and Vanessa McKowen. I didn’t want to copy anything they had already done, but just seeing where their ideas went, and the random things they came up with helped spark up a few ideas for myself.

From the VIVA completion to the final shooting, I did cut it fine with time. As we had other assignments due I lost track of time and didn’t spend as much time as I would have liked shooting and planning all of my ideas.

For my final shoots I again set the lighting up with bounce lighting on a 7.0 intensity setting. And set my camera on f7.1-f8. Using my 24-105mm lens, shooting mostly between 70-105mm. Using the wider aperture meant that more of the objects would have been in sharp focus, and the telephoto lens, although cropped close allowed for the objects to not get distorted and be shot within a tight frame.

Final Shoot:

For my final ideas I decided to shoot a lipstick as a chilli. Firstly I left the chill uncut in its natural form, although once showing my peers, it was suggested I cut the chilli into the shape of a standard lipstick, and have some of the chilli seeds showing through. This idea worked much better and made the “lipstick” more authentic.

For my second image I shot a bubble-gum as sticky tape. Getting the bubble gum into the sticky tape holder was much more difficult that I first expected, but as this shot was done all in camera, it was much easier to execute.

For the third image I decided to do a condom as a lollipop, as the shape of the wrapper and the condom within could easily be perceived as the shape of your average wrapped lollipop. With some handy bluetac on the back of the condom wrapper this shot was easily done in camera, with little hassle.

For my fourth image I wanted to imitate a Christmas bauble, as a lime. This shot took a bit of creative effort as the lime was too heavy for the top of the bauble to hold it up. So I had to shoot each shot separately. First the lime, hanging by the Christmas bauble top (no idea what this bit is actually called) just held on with some bluetac, which looked awful and is why I didn’t use it to do it in camera. I then show the Christmas bauble hanging from some fishing line to get the top in focus, and then proceeded to Photoshop the two together.

For my fifth image I decided to revisit my roller with bread, and replace it with corn, I felt like the corn worked better as it is a completely cylinder object, unlike the bread which has a flat side to it. Again I had to shoot each object separately as I was unable to shoot it in-camera. Once photo shopping I did have to puppet warp the corn slightly to allow it to fit seamlessly into the paint roller.

For my sixth image I wanted to create a basketball with an orange. Doing so I just drew the lines for the ball straight onto the orange (although this could have been done much better now I look back at it). To create the illusion of the orange floating it was very difficult, firstly I tried just dropping it and seeing if that would work, although with my camera settings it didn’t go to plan. Then I decided to use a long wooden skewer and stick it almost all the way through and balance the orange on there, and Photoshop the rest out later. Some puppet warp was used to create a more round ‘ball’.

For my final 2 images I decided to use the ice cream and light bulb image and popsicle-sponge image from my viva, as I felt these two images worked well and didn’t need to be reshot.

Evaluation:

Looking back at this whole experience this semester, I did have a rocky start and a did of a late start off the bat getting my ideas in place, but once I had my idea set it was easy to get started but I did have moment where I felt very, very stuck for ideas and it was quite frustrating at times. Looking back at my techniques and images I do feel like I could have executed them better, and spent more time and effort photo shopping and refining the images, to make the perfect like Benjamin Henon made his. The lighting isn’t as consistent as I would have liked it over the images, and the backdrops need a bit of work and the lines are all different angles, and if I was to go further I would either have the all diagonal or on the same degree of a slope. Although I found this assignment difficult at times, I did really enjoy seeing my work come to life, and being quite proud of myself when images worked, and the cool mashup ideas really worked well together. I belive I have quite good photo shop skills and I was constantly learning new techniques and ways to execute the images I was producing, although using brushes at 1% pixels did start to hurt my eyes and I would have to take constant breaks before all I saw were pixels, I did enjoy this assignment, although I am unsure where I would like to take it next semester as I struggled to come up with new ideas this semester I will need to think about where I can take this in the future and what else needs to be modified and changed to be able to continue this and perfect it for next semester.

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