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mxvladdy · 3 years

Note

I would like to request! Can I request? Well I wish for you to consider what type of person/what kind of situation would cause the brothers to make a pact with someone. Maybe even what they would request in exchange? This can be before or after they met MC. With that out of the way, I totally binge read all of your works after my sister gushed to me about the True Form series, and just thank you??? It made me really happy reading them and it's always impressively detailed and well thought out.

Awww thank you! I’m glad it’s rave-worthy! I plan to add to it soon bc it was an absolute riot to write and research for lol

And wow this one is a toughie! I’ve actually never thought of what would make them want a pact! Hope ya like it!

Lucifer- Pact of Success

Absolutely the hardest brother to do business with, but that is probably a good thing. He is incredibly selfish with his contracts. Sure, they’ll benefit from his pact mark, but he will get the most out of it. Aside from MC he only takes requests for contracts from the human “elite”. They make wonderful feathers in his cap.

But also he takes some enjoyment in breaking them. They always get so cocky with his contracts thinking that they have him on the ropes and at their beck and call. It gives him a good chuckle, humans are so brazen considering their very short lifespan.

He destroys them slowly over time- all the little minutia he peppers in his legal bindings adds up. Not that his normal clientele ever read the fine print. But he designed it that way to make sure they don’t. All their requests are the same and so simplistic. Big boats, fancy cars, climbing the proverbial ladder faster than their friends or enemies - blah-blah-blah. At least the paperwork is easy to complete.

Very rarely does he find a contract he is excited to make. Those contracts are given to artists and craftsmen he sees potential in. He loves good art, and every artist should take pride in their work.

When it comes to the “price” of his pact it is worryingly simple. All he wants is some of their time. It sounds simple, and it is. Which is why it’s dangerous. The contract doesn’t specifically say how or the rules of it. How he takes your time is completely up to him.

Sometimes he simply comes for a drink and to ask how business is going. Or with the pacts he gives a damn about- he pops in to see progress on their artist visions or listen to their latest musings.

Other times if he grows tired of his pact holders’ ever-growing demands or ludicrous requests he comes and takes time right out of their lifespan. His visits leave them weak and fatigued though they can’t place why. He is a slow siphon of death and they are too foolhardy to notice. If he is feeling especially cruel, or sentimental he takes memories, things that a demon generally wouldn’t want.

Time with family, the first time they met the love of their life, a child’s birthday. He takes them all and leaves them with only a blurry recollection in his wake

When MC crosses his path though he is very apprehensive. He doesn’t want a pact or anything that could jeopardize Diavolo’s upcoming plans. But they make his skin itch with want. He doesn’t want them to be another trophy on his wall. He wants a mutually beneficial pact, one that almost leans in their favor and it grates him. Should/ when a pact is made he won’t use his powers on you as then he would have to take something in return. Instead, he takes his time and coaches them to be successful by their own right, though if he has to eliminate some obstacles- well they don’t need to know that.

Mammon- Pact of Riches

I love his man with all my heart, but even when he isn’t losing bets or getting tricked into pacts he still isn’t the most selective with who he conducts business with. He is the avatar of greed, after all. I guess it comes with the territory.

He scouts for already wealthy humans or people with a good head for numbers and is money smart. Some are too smart to deal with him, knowing that whatever monetary gain they are granted from him will backfire in the end (or their mama’s taught them not to make deals with strange demons). But a sucker is born every minute, and he has nothing but time on his hands.

His pacts are pretty simple and upfront. Sign on the dotted line and they get some of his wicked gamblers’ luck and more riches than one human life span could do much with. While he gets a glorified accountant and a nice percentage of their profits. It’s a win-win… for him.

See he forgets to mention that there are two sides to every coin, and his flip side is particularly detrimental to one’s health. He just so conveniently glosses over that his luck will wear out over time depending on how frequently the pact holder uses it.

But the hunger for more doesn’t. If anything that particular sensation grows into an all-consuming fire in the pit of their pitiful guts. It forces them back into the seedy basements or griming gambling halls. One more roll, one more stack of bills, just one more time and they will hit pay dirt surly! But the losses just keep coming. If one of his pact holders ends up face down in a ditch after one too many bad hands and uncontrollable greed… well ain’t nobody’s fault but their own.

He has a softer spot for humans that seek him out and treat him like a living being instead of some tool to be tossed around at will. It’s refreshing. He will actually take some care with these pacts and tell them to temper their use of his magic so they can get the most out of it in the long run. They still might run into misfortune and he is genuinely sorry for that but there is only so much he can do in the end.

With MC he doesn’t even tell them about what his pact can do or how to use it. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to his human. If they want something tell him he will do it himself no magic or pact summoning required. He wants to keep them happy and healthy for as long as his lifespan will allow.

If MC should find how to use his pact mark he will get pissed. Not so much at them but the situation in general. He’ll be upfront about the whole thing, judge him how they want but he refuses to let greed consume them too. He focuses a lot of time and energy on learning how to reel in his magic with them so they get some of the perks but none of the major downsides. Unlike with his other pacts where he lets it all just run wild (just means they use up their contact faster and he can move on to even bigger fish).

Leviathan- Pact of Wisdom and Skill

Surprisingly, despite his antisocial tendencies with “normies”, he gets around when it comes to contracts. Perhaps it’s jealousy at his other brothers or perhaps he finds collecting contracts a bit of a game on its own.

He has a small niche of people interested in his pacts. Pacts with him give people a strategic advantage in nearly any situation. Seemingly overnight his humans turn into near tactical geniuses. Because of that, he is very popular with military leaders and humans with dangerous careers.

He also makes mini contracts with foot soldiers and humans with dangerous oceanic jobs. They just want to make it out alive and he gets that. With contracts like these, he is more lenient and doesn’t ask for much. Make an offering of fancy food to Henry 2.0 or wait in line for a rare human figuring he wants. Wam-bam thank you ma’am kinda business.

This is completely different from his larger contracts. With the military contracts, he expects them to continue with their duties until they die in the field. Simple as that, he doesn’t mince words in his contract. It’s what he would do as General so he expects it from them. Should they try to define him he will get rid of them.

He takes delight in defiant contract holders. They think they are as clever as he is now. But they forget that they are using his magic. He could take his magic away right after they defy him sure...but he won’t. He lets them stew for a bit, thinking they have had the last laugh on envy. If they wish to play games with a General then he will make sure it’s good.

With MC he plays on easy mode, granting them insight and little touches of his magic during exam week or when playing a game against his brothers. He wants nothing in return from them but some quality hangout time.

Satan- The Pact of Retribution

As the only pure-blooded demon out of the seven, he does these pacts out of necessity like most other demons. While the others do it more so out of monetary gain and an obligation to the crown. Or if you’re Belphie, sheer enjoyment.

He does it because he hungers, it a hole in his very self that he is trying to fill. He hunts for one reason only- relief from his cardinal sin. He will never feel the calm after a storm of rage naturally. Patience and tranquility are the antitheses of his very creation. So he gets it artificially through his contracts.

He looks for the downtrodden, angry, and the most bitterly despondent humans he can find and gives them the chance to seek vengeance. He is very upfront with what his pact entails. Once the vengeance is complete his rage will consume them and they will become another soul for him to consume.

He isn’t cruel about the process or tries to trick a human into a mark. Very few of the ones he approaches turn him down even after hearing the details. It is possible that humans once shot to get even and he gets to feel bliss, to feel calm. He finds out that the longer or more obscure the plan for retribution is the sweeter the outcome is for Satan.

If he is feeling super ornery he will go after people affected by the outcomes of Lucifer’s pacts. They are easy prey and almost as wrathful as Satan himself. Bonus it aggravates Lucifer to no end when he has to go out of his way to clean up the mess Satan’s contract made of his own. Anything to piss him off makes Satan feel all the better.

With MC he doesn’t need to use his pact magic. Mostly because they are always around him in the Devildom, and no one is stupid enough to mess with someone Satan favors. If someone or something does irritate his MC he will take it out before it can fester into something his magic will try to latch onto. Keeping you calm and happy makes him feel almost tranquil as well.

Asmodeus- Pact of Gratification

Another very popular pact to try to get, and how could it not? He is fabulous~ But as much as people try to find him, he only goes for a certain type of contract. He has his perfectly manicured fingers on the pulse of the fashion and beauty industry.

His name is a whisper among the up and comers in the business. Many-while not looking for a pact - at least want to see him at least once. Many never will, they get cut from their agency or quit before they could get a foothold. It happens, and he hates to see it. Everyone deserves to feel gorgeous, or at least get a chance to be in the same room as him!

But for the ones the perceiver and climb the ranks get invited to one of his many parties. They can only get invited by someone wearing his mark. He trusts them to know who would be amenable to his contract.

His pact grants its bearer a glamor that can’t be broken by any meer mortal or mage. It makes them absolutely irresistible. How they wield that power is completely up to the user, he won’t judge or intervene.

Once they sign the contract all his holders see him frequently. He absolutely loves dropping in on their shoots or fancy dinners to say hi or get a recap on how they are fairing. Not because he is a nice demon or just super friendly (though they would like to think so). No, he just likes to watch.

His payment is slow, methodical and no one sees it happen until it is already complete. In exchange for beauty and the graduation of getting whatever their little hearts could as for he gets their ability to love, whether that be familiar or sexual. Asmo loves the feeling of being loved; he wants it in all ways possible.

Some pact holders don’t have an issue with this. They got their looks, a successful career, and people to manipulate to their heart’s content. Not having strong contentions with anyone works in their favor. But others don’t and while they search for him to try and get that little slice of humanity back he is long gone. He got what he wanted anyway.

MC is his darling. He can and will make a special contract just for them (reviewed by Lucifer). A beautiful new contract for a beautiful soul! He wants you as unchanged as possible because this MC is the one he fell for.

Beelzebub- Pact of Prowess

His pact is a very elusive one as he isn’t keen on going and looking for one. Beel isn’t a big fan of these trades, but he needs them every once and a while. Nothing is more filling than a contracted soul.

His trade is basic, make a pact and you get his strength. He, like Satan, is upfront about what his payment is and what side effects will plague them. He sees no reason to lie about it. The more they draw on his power the more the host's body gorges itself. Their bones will collapse in on themselves from the stress of it- the magic feeds on anything in the host bodies. It will deplete the iron in the blood, go after the calcium in the bones, sink its teeth in their muscle system.

It’s all rather gruesome and Beel does feel bad about it. He tells though who are still adamant about binding with him ways they can negate some of the side effects by taking supplements and augmenting their diets.

But it is like patching a deep cut with a bandaid, it just won’t work. His stomach is near bottomless- humans most certainly aren’t. They simply can’t eat enough to sustain their body like he can.

It surprises him that people still seek him out. To some, the pros outweigh that very huge cons. Some really do believe that they can find a loophole or find the right mix of medication to offset it.

He doesn’t get beaten up about it anymore but it gets on his nerves how obstinate humans can be about his very clear warnings. When his magic finally consumes them he takes both the body and soul back down with him and feasts on both.

With MC he keeps an eye out on them. Consistently checking in, making sure they don’t skip a meal, and join him at the gym often. He wants them to be strong and healthy enough to not ever want to use his pact. Though he does speculate that their angelic bloodline buffers both his and his brother’s magic a good bit.

Belphegor- Pact of the Visionary

Dreamers come in every shape and size and from different walks of life. But they are are all suckers to Belphie. He is known as the Lord of Decet for a reason.

He will promise them everything and anything their heart desires. That invention that will change the world? Done. A patent that is long overdue. Easy enough. A sudden rush of ingenuity to complete that nagging project. He is a devil of his word, it will be done. It- just won’t be done in the way they would want it.

See manipulating the physical realm is hard work. Like a lot of hard work. More than he would ever do for some stupid little human. It’s a lot easier to control outcomes in his realm.

The moment the contract is signed his hosts fall under his control and he takes it from there building a perfect little dream world for them to frolic in and believe they are getting what they want. He feeds off of them here, taking little sips from their energy and exploring these new fresh dream worlds. His dreamscapes get boring every once and a while, so having a new human under his influence is always refreshing.

While his humans thrive inside their minds their bodies waste away in bed as his magic draws them further and further into an endless sleep.

He doesn’t see anything wrong with his contracts. Who would argue with him that the dream realms aren’t real in their own sense? Did his humans not accomplish their goals in the end? He doesn’t think of the outside effects of his magic and pacts. Belphie really doesn’t care about what families he broke apart or lives he inadvertently affected.

MC is different to him though. He doesn’t keep them under his spell hardly ever (maybe if they are spending too much time with Dia or Lucifer. But he doesn’t push it with them.).He still walks into their dreams whenever he feels but he comes just to visit, not to change. He simply just enjoys keeping you company and relaxing in the little mini paradise you always seem to create in your dreams.

#obey me #request!#obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #headcanon

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themissinggenius · 4 years

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Part 2/2

Another conversation was coming, but it was avoided for the time being. Clarice showered in the guest bathroom; earlier, she had tried peering around the house—still mad but a bit embarrassed by the outburst. The door had been put back into place since she showered, and the water had been cleaned off of the floor. Hannibal was nowhere to be found. I really did it this time, she thought. Her body relaxed, and her face softened. She didn’t think it was appropriate to laugh, but the thought still surfaced, prompting a sad smile. I pushed around the violent centerpiece of the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. And he just cried. Shithouse mouse. The smirk dissipated as she ruminated further... She had hit him. Being a domestic abuser wasn’t just rude; it was boringly common.

She moved the thoughts about violence to the side and shifted her attention to the cause of the scuffle. I don’t know what he expected. Hannibal knows the depth of my old relationship with Jack, as much as he hated him. He told me to say goodbye to my father, so why not Jack?

Your daddy and Jackie Boy aren’t the same, she reminded herself. At this moment, she was both grateful and resentful that her internal voice of reason was that of her husband. At least it was helping her see his view. Okay, so the relationship isn’t necessarily comparable. But why would he think I wouldn’t come home? Did he really read my intentions so incorrectly?

Clarice laid awake in the guest bedroom for hours.

Hannibal Lecter relies on his intuition; it may just be his most famous attribute. On rare occasion, though, his cunning will fail him. On the day that Jack Crawford died, it most certainly did.

However, he doesn’t know that yet. Instead, he is reclined in repose at the seat of his harpsichord which he does not play. As he is off in one of the ill-visited quarters of the home, Clarice would be unable to hear the notes carrying from her position in the guest room; even so, he does not play. Hannibal gleaned a look of disgust and frustration from her earlier, and thus, he was certain his Starling would take flight by the morning for reasons known but difficult to accept. There is no reason for him to play.

Poised on the bench, he disappeared to his memory palace without struggle. The difficulty came when he walked down the halls, closing each door that had belonged to her. Hannibal contemplated as he walked: There is a certain symmetry to this—an appreciable one. Clarice’s hotheadedness had been a defining feature of hers, whereas he relied on coolness. He chastised himself for his own emotional outburst; it was unlike him to breakdown, and though he had allowed himself to become vulnerable to his wife, with her likely departure, he had to withdraw from all this fragility. He had to shut down. He had to be the ice to meet her violent fire.

Thus, he closed her doors, sealing the emotional ties within each.

Hannibal emerged at the sound of her voice. He had not heard her approaching in nor had he smelled her.

A few paces away from the harpsichord, Clarice stood. Hannibal had been contemplating whether to address her as Clarice (Perhaps too informal at this point...), Agent Starling (But even when she goes back, she won’t be an agent...), or Miss Starling (Ummmm, I don’t like this one very much...) when she interrupted.

“Hannibal,” she started.

“Ah.” He paused but spoke again before she could continue. “I see you’ve finally decided to join me. Had enough tossing and turning up there, or did you come down to use me as your personal punching bag again?”

“No, no. I just think-”

He cut her off again. “You know what I think, Ex-Special Agent Starling?” Oooh. That works, he thought. “Well, actually I wonder. I wonder if that was how Daddy took care o’ Mommy when she wouldn’t shut ‘er yap.” His imitation of her accent—which she had long abandoned—made her flinch. “If Ma didn’t have dinner on the table at five-o-clock, yes siree, she’d be in some kinda trouble. And boy, does Clarice still wanna be like her Daddy! No matter what,” he emphasized with a drawl, “she’s gonna stand by him. It sure do seem that way tuh me!” Hannibal smirked, and his face betrayed no warmth.

The room had felt colder to Clarice when she had walked in. She had expected him to be upset, but she hadn’t expected this. The woman paused and considered the implications: her musings were correct. He really did misread her, and now he was trying to drive her away. Well fuck that.

In their years of marriage, the couple had picked up on a few of each other’s traits. For one, Clarice was not going to allow a bit of intimidation break her. He came close to doing so in Baltimore, but he would not again. She steeled herself, adopting a bit of his icy demeanor.

“No, Hannibal. My father did not hit my mother. I think I would’ve told you by now, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer right away; rather, he just pursed his lips and smiled.

Then, he began: “As you know, I don’t try to predict you because it often proves fruitless.” He looked off before setting his gaze squarely on her. “However, considering these... outbursts of yours and the contempt plain on your face, I have bought you a ticket back to Arlington in time for dear Mr. Crawford’s funeral. For my safety, I will also be leaving, but not to Virginia. I know how much you must miss Jackie; please, give him my regards when you go. Maybe if you scream and pound on his grave hard enough, someone will hear and they’ll finally find you... Three years after you were reported as a missing person.” Lecter’s eyebrows shot up, and he shrugged. “Though I doubt you’ll be reinstated, as you haven’t kept your resume up to date. It will be no problem for you, though, Clarice.” He gave her a kind, patronizing look. “You’re a very smart girl. When you rediscover that the FBI has no use for your intelligence, try showing off your trophies from the firing range. Maybe even tell them about your skills in hand-to-hand combat... I could write you a glowing reference!”

Hannibal was perfectly still in his seat with his wife just beyond him. He waited patiently for her to break. He wanted no end to be left untied when she left. Your turn.

“I see you still try and lick tears after you’ve tired of tasting your own.” Clarice took a slow step toward him. She needed to crack his facade quickly. “Fortunately or unfortunately, I have no intention of moving back to the States. I find that I’m quite happy right here.”

Only she could have noticed the slight twitch of the doctor’s right eye upon this admission. And she did.

Starling inched closer. “Now, about this ‘contempt plain on my face’...” She mirrored his voice and flat expression; her imitation was even better than his had been. “Did ya happen to consider that it’s because you just tried to tear me apart—unsuccessfully, I might add? Let me tell you what I know, Doctor.” She hammed up the formality in her tone. “I know you’re not comfortable feeling worried about another person. I know that you felt vulnerable when I was gone, and I know you didn’t like that.”

She paused, remaining collected. She raised her voice a tad for this last bit. “Lastly, I know that you ASSUMED. And if there is one—just one!—good thing that goddamned Jack Crawford taught me over the years,” she laughed, “it’s that, when you assume, you make an ASS out of U and ME. Trust me, baby, you did just that. And despite what your intuition told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

She did it. The true stoic’s face had broken, and Hannibal the Cannibal sat, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth and then closed it. She continued.

“I’m sorry that you misread my motivations. I spent yesterday reflecting on how I had gotten to this point, and I had come home feeling glad. I was planning on going upstairs to find you, drawing a bath for the both of us, and then dancing later on in the evening. Your assumption got us a bit sidetracked, though.” Looking down at her watch, it was 2am. Holy crap. She focused back on him and noted that he was still unmoving but appeared less rigid than before. The room felt like it had finally warmed up.

Clarice took a last step towards her husband. Now above him, looking down, she said, “I am sincerely sorry for hitting you, Hannibal.”

Finally, he stirred. “Clarice, I have not once so much as laid a finger on you in anger...”

“I know. Ironic, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

His wife smirked at that, and he returned the favor. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. Anyway, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. You know what else won’t happen again?” She held his chin and spoke softly. “You doubting us. I’m with you for the long haul. Where the hell did you even think I was going?”

“Ummmm. To be candid, I’m unsure of what I thought your plan was. I assumeddddd,” he looked up at her teasingly, “that you were leaving because of a change in heart.”

“My, Dr. Lecter, you didn’t have every one of my steps planned out before I could even think of them? What have I done to you?”

“I can now definitively say that you bring out the worst in me.”

Clarice laughed and sat down next to him. “Crying? And worrying?” She was feeling more relaxed, placing her hand on his leg as she started laughing harder. “Why am I not surprised that you consider that to be Hannibal Lecter at his worst?”

Her husband just smiled back at her. She saw his cheeks blush almost imperceptibly, which then prompted a further fit. It wasn’t long before they were both laughing.

“You had better... go back... into that memory palace of yours... and open up my doors ASAP,” Clarice ordered while catching her breath.

“And how did you—?”

“You were sitting on that bench for quite a while before I called out to ya. Try not to forget about me so soon, huh?”

“I wouldn’t even think of it.” Never again, he added silently. “But I must ask... Would I be incorrect in assuming you still want to dance?”

Clarice smiled widely. Hannibal shifted in his seat and began to play.

#fluff+angst=whatever the fuck this is #THE FLUFF IS UNREAL OMG #it went from 100 to 0 so quick #clannibal #Clarice #clarice starling #hannibal #hannibal lecter

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mrreindeerface · 4 years

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WTNC Mini-Fics

So @galleywinter threw a challenge flag at my head to start writing again. These are dedicated to her (thank you for listening to me scream on discord for a week)

Under the cut because there’s a few of them and it got kinda long.

Butterflies in your stomach and your heart skipping beats- that can’t be safe

Alkar is pouting again.

Wren still finds it adorable, likes to watch from the warmth of Omen’s embrace (be it tail or arms) as the two of them watch their wolf stalk around their home, muttering under his breath as he rearranges things that don’t need to be moved. Sometimes they wake at night, red eyes glaring in the dark even as he burrows deeper in between the two of them.

It’s just feelings, Alkar, they’d tried to tell him, palms pressed against his cheeks. His ears had gone back and he’d scowled.

Doesn’t feel healthy, his grumble hadn’t done anything to hide the blush skating across his cheeks.

Tonight… tonight is different – tonight there’s only two of them. Laid out under the night sky, grass soft beneath them as they trace meaningless patterns between the stars. The earth is cool against their skin, but held by the living furnace that is Alkar Wren barely even notices.

It would be easier, they muse, with Omen there. But he had gone to see Elaine and Armaros, so Wren was on their own to keep Alkar from sulking into the next century.

“Hey,” they say, turning far enough to slide a hand into his hair.

“Hey yourself,” he mumbles, flicking back the ear they had been reaching for.

“You’re pouting again.”

“Am not.”

“Alkar.” Wren sighs. “You can say you miss him. It won’t kill you.”

“I do not miss people,” his voice is just a hair above a growl. Wren ignores the small thrill it sends through them.

“Oh?” Wren puts on a fake pout (they’ve gotten better since practicing their Alkar imitation.) “Not even me? I guess that means I can go away on longer assignments then?”

There’s a moment where they swear they see fear in Alkar’s eyes, and then he’s on top of them, pinning them to the ground while they try to get enough air to laugh under the weight of a six-something Lycan.

“Mean,” Alkar says, nipping at the shell of their ear. “You are mean.”

Wren buries their hands in his hair, holding him close.

“You love it.”

Praying won’t do you much good around here.

She knows there’s something wrong in Lunaris from the moment they arrive. Call it a feeling, superstition, paranoia from years of Hunter training to see threats around every corner.

Night falls in waves in this town: one calm as the sky after rain and one oppressive enough to be felt. There is a night of starry skies and a night cloaked in shadow so dark her bones ache.

The people are terrified to be outside, running for safety as the sun sinks below the horizon. They watch with shuttered, suspicious eyes as she carries out her investigation, wishing for an end to the madness and not sure if they can believe she’ll be the one to deliver it.

Hell, she isn’t even sure she can save them. Lunaris keeps many secrets, and it keeps them well protected. Even those who offer her their assistance, their friendship, look at her with apologies scrawled on their faces. They know things, they don’t tell her these things, and she runs into every problem blind.

Don’t trust anyone.

The sooner she can get this done, free this town from whatever nightmare that holds it this time, the sooner she can get away.

I'm not playing 20 questions with you

Two cards hit the table – a 3 from Omen and a 10 from Poppy.

“Favorite place to be during the day?”

“Down in the markets,” Omen replied dutifully. Poppy began scrawling his answer in their notes as he continued. “There’s a lot of activity so it’s easier to get a read on people.”

Alkar snorted into his tankard in what might have been contempt. Hard to tell with him.

Their table is surprisingly tame for its current occupants. Alkar, it seems, is contenting himself with watching their game while studiously ignoring the looks he’s getting from the other patrons. Alaric, for once, has his “let’s fuck with Alkar” gauge set to low, because he’s been nothing but well-behaved since they sat down.

They had seen Finn and Ezra only briefly, the two had kept their heads down and come and gone in record time. Ezra had looked like hell: Poppy had heard from passersby earlier that afternoon that someone in town had been badly hurt in the woods. Maybe they hadn’t made it.

They flipped another round of cards.

Omen made a small sound of delight and Poppy looked own. Omen’s King outclassed their 8 by a long shot. They raised their glass and took a drink.

Omen grinned, mindful of his tusks. “What is your favorite color?”

“Green,” Poppy replied immediately. “Emerald green, more specifically.”

“Bullshit,” Alkar smacked a hand on the table. “I’ve never seen you wear anything green!”

“You don’t have to wear something for it to be your favorite color,” Omen replied, though he added that fact to the list on his page as well.

“Not that it’s any concern of yours, but I do wear green. Almost every day, in fact.” Poppy looked up at him without raising their head. “Just because it’s somewhere you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”

Alkar sputters and goes red: Alaric raises his glass in toast. Poppy tries very hard to ignore the grin on Omen’s face that had gone from curious to mischievous faster than expected.

“If you have any further questions you are welcome to join the game,” Poppy offers in lieu of addressing it. Alkar’s nose crinkles.

“I’d pay to see that,” Alaric muses. “Where do you live? Fuck off. Why don’t you wear shoes? Fuck shoes. Do you have any other clothes? Fuck clothes.”

Omen has a hand over his mouth to hide his laughter – the shaking of his shoulders would give him away were it not for the fact that Alkar had his wrath focused on the Hunter across from him.

“I know more words than fuck,” Alkar sneers. “And I do own other clothes thank you very much.” He turns his attention to Poppy and Omen. “Don’t write that down it doesn’t count.

They both write it down anyway. He tells them both to go fuck themselves.

Time you enjoyed wasting was not wasted

“Hunter,” there was a warning in August’s voice. “We’re supposed to be working.”

Alaric hummed, contemplative, even as he crowded August back against their desk. “Work will still be here in the morning, General.” Slowly, giving August the chance to back out if they wanted it, he raised his hands to their shoulders, sliding palms down their arms until he could tangle his fingers with theirs. “I seem to remember someone making me a promise to stop sleeping in their office.” August rolled their eyes, but the defensive set of their jaw had softened as soon as his hands were on them.

“It’s hardly late enough for that to be a concern.” They sighed, leaning their forehead against his and closing their eyes. “I’m not going to overdo it.”

“Uh-huh.” Alaric tugged at their joined hands, pulling August’s body forward against his. “Let me take you home, August. The reports can wait.”

“I have to get these done before the gala on Friday,” they warned, even as they let themselves be drawn across the office. “I can’t keep wasting time.”

“Resting is not wasting time.”

August arches an elegant brow at him. “I very much doubt whatever is on your mind could be considered resting, Hunter Fehler.”

Alaric didn’t bother hiding his smirk. “Come now, give your husband some credit. You know I have your best interests at heart.”

“We’ll see.” August took their hands back, nodding towards the door. “Lead the way home then, husband.”

I think it's safe to say that we have a really big problem on our hands.

Piper is laughing at her.

Correction, Piper is laughing at the ground, if only because she is doubled over and cackling hard enough that she can’t stand up straight.

“You could be helping me, you know.” If her voice is sharp it’s deserved. So much for being partners, eh General?

“Right, right,” Piper makes a half-hearted attempt to get herself under control. “Sorry, Lieutenant General.”

Alkar headbutts her again. Piper starts on another round of laughter.

“I hate you both so much right now,” Greer mutters, feeling the beginnings of a blush creeping up her neck. She places her hand in the middle of Alkar’s furred forehead and braces the next time he tries to push forward. “Personal space much?”

For all her years of service, she could firmly say she’d never seen a Lycan under the full moon pout. She wishes that were still true.

“Oh gods now he’s sulky,” Piper manages between gasping breaths for air. “You hurt his feelings Hunter Taggart.”

Greer cuts a glare in her direction. “You can start being useful at any time, Merriman.”

Her attention divided, Alkar takes the opportunity to press his head against her stomach. Again.

“Fucking- Alkar!”

“All right, all right.” Greer watches as Piper bodily pulls herself together. “Let’s see if we can’t get him to Finn. Hopefully that ancient mosquito will know what to do.”

#wtnc game #writing #Galleywinter

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some-cookie-crumbz · 3 years

Note

Huwumi betting kiss in a bar?

I had way more fun writing this than I should have! Flirty Fuyumi is something I’ll have to indulge in more often!

Gonna say this is rated T/ PG 13 so behave yourselves!

Also, Minor Trigger Warning: Aggressive Swearing, References to Sexual Content (Non-Explicit), Cheating (Don’t worry; neither Hawks nor Fuyumi are involved in this one!), Of Age Binge Drinking

Every time Misa had a rough break up, Fuyumi knew that their whole group was going to end up spending a night in a bar making questionable life choices. For as much as she loved Misa, the girl did not handle her heartaches well. Fuyumi was willing to wager that it was most likely because Misa wasn’t exactly the best judge of character. Many a time, she ended up letting partners slip into her life without focusing on the glaring red flags. She’d fuss and accuse and scream at everyone else in the group that they were being unfair, that her newest sweetheart had just been mistreated and needed love to guide them back on to the proper path. Every single time, the rest of them would agree that this was the last time they were going to deal with this from Misa. If she couldn’t be bothered to listen to their concerns and cool her heels just a little, then why should they constantly dab her eyes and pat her back when her ignorance got her hurt?

Because everyone has their weak moments, just like Misa, Fuyumi thought wistfully. She sipped at the sparkling water in her hand while Taigen slipped into their booth. “Well if it isn’t my most favorite people in the world,” he said with a tired huff, slumping down beside her.

“Hey, Tai,” Akiko, sitting to Misa’s left and rubbing her back, said with a quick wave of her other hand.

“Howdy hey Tai-Kins,” Nagisa sang, her tone only the slightest bit less chipper than usual. She was on Misa’s right, gently patting her head.

Misa herself had thrown her whole upper body against the table, hiding her face in her arms, and was wailing shamelessly. A part of Fuyumi was almost jealous at how unbridled her friend was in her grief. There had only been one or two instances in her own life where she’d ever dared to make such a spectacle of herself over anything. And she learned quite quickly to never do it again.

“So what was it this time?” Taigen asked, leaning over to flag down one of the servers, and then leaning back in his seat. “What caliber of douchebag are we labeling this guy as?”

Misa let out a particularly loud, hysterical wail at the prodding, making the other’s at the table wince. Fuyumi motioned Taigen closer to whisper, “Misa-Chan caught him and Akane-Chan touching each other in places where they really shouldn’t be.” He balked and stared at her, expression jumping between horror, anger and then settling comfortably to mortification. Fuyumi couldn’t blame him, though; she had probably made very similar expressions. And she couldn’t really blame Misa for being particularly upset, either, since she didn’t think she’d feel much better if she caught her significant other getting down and dirty with one of her younger siblings.

“Okay. Wow. That’s… certainly something,” Taigen trailed uneasily.

“That filthy motherfucker!” Misa outright shrieked, causing a few patrons at the bar proper to give them a sideways glance.

“That’s right, get it all out,” Nagisa encouraged quietly.

“They’re all motherfuckers, hun,” Akiko agreed, her own tone taking on a soothing note.

Taigen made quick work of ordering their first round of drinks – excluding Fuyumi, who insisted she really couldn’t tonight – and some appetizers to get started. When the food and drinks arrived, they managed to coax Misa up enough to eat and down her first two drinks, which seemed to put her in higher spirits. They let her vent what she felt comfortable venting and took her lead on when to sidetrack to a new subject.

The distractions were clearly having a good impact on Misa as she moved on to her third, fourth, fifth and sixth drinks.

“You bastards,” Misa slurred with a small hiccup, waving her glass about in a semi-circle to indicate them all, “make it seem so easy to just meet someone! Like I can just pluck any ole’ person off the street and BAM! SOULMATE FOUND!”

“Don’t you already just pick the saddest looking sack o’ flesh outta the gutter? At least if you pick someone off the sidewalk instead they might have their shit more stitched together,” Taigen scoffed, a sly smirking taking over his face as he sipped his own drink. “Well, that or if you just gathered your courage to actually make the first move instead of waiting for these parasites to catch a whiff of your desperation.”

Akiko started to outright cackle while Misa’s face turned a much darker shade that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Fuyumi was quick to set her drink down and lift her hands, ready to step in between any ensuing fight. Nagisa took everyone else being distracted as a chance to stuff another pot sticker in her mouth. “Say that again, you angsty twink!” Misa squeaked angrily.

Taigen’s eyes narrowed, the dark blue tint of them gleaming dangerous. “What did you just call me?”

“Ya heard me!”

“Okay, Misa-Chan, Tai-Chan, how about we settle down and take a breath? We don’t ended things to esca-!”

“Sorry for giving you some practical advice, damn! Maybe if you actually listened you wouldn’t constantly be getting pumped and dumped!”

“Oh, no! Tai-Chan, that is incred-!”

“Well not all of us can hook up with some dimwit from work! Besides, a truly worthy suitor prefers a lady who waits to be chased!”

“Misa, I don-!”

“Masaki is an absolute angel and you fucking know it, you jealous little asshole! And you know what? I’m gonna prove my fucking point that your fucking point is stupid!” he snapped back, slamming a hand on the table. There was a beat of silence before he whirled his head around to face Fuyumi. “Yumi! Go over to the bar and get you a smooch!”

“What?” she squawked indignantly.

Akiko started giddily giggling into her hand. “Oh, yes, yes! It has to you, Yumi, babe!”

“But why me?” she argued. “I wasn’t even involved in their little wager!”

“But you’re the only one that’s single, aside from Misasasasauce,” Nagisa slurred, swaying a bit in her seat. “You’re the only one that can really prove Taikadaikado’s point.” She shifted the glass in her hand to take another sip but then stared at in horror as she realized it was empty.

“‘Sides, it’s good for ya!” Akiko chimed in, swaying to lean heavily on the table. She looked about to topple over at a moment’s notice.

“There’s no way for me to get out of this, is there?” Fuyumi sighed.

“Nope!” Taigen said, making a popping noise with the word as he shimmied out of his seat. He gestured grandly towards the bar across from them. “Now go, dearest Fuyumi, and find yourself a hottie to mack on! Make me proud!”

“No, make me proud, Fumi!” Misa shot back.

With a resigned sigh, she carefully slipped out of her seat and made her way towards the bar. She loved her friends, but they were ridiculous, honestly. She slid into one of the many empty seats at the bar a few spots away from a cute young woman in a halter dress, but opted against making the pass when she noticed the ring on the woman’s finger. There were mostly just groups there, all settled up together in proper booths. The only other two people that were at the bar proper were all the way at the other end from her and seemed much more focused on some hushed debate they were having. She flagged down the bartender, instead, to request a fresh water and a small bowl of cherries.

“My, what an odd order to place at a bar,” A deep voice chimed from beside her, dripping in amusement. She jumped and glanced at the young man making his way into the stool beside her. He seemed to be about her age with just the right amount of scruff gracing his jawline, baggy clothes that screamed workout attire to her, and a hat tugged down low over his head, hiding most of his hair. What caught her attention most, though, with the blazing gold eyes fixed on her like a predator on prey.

He didn’t strike her as being her usual type, but she kind of liked the way he was watching her. She admittedly did like the ones that seemed confident. Nine times out of ten they weren’t nearly as self-assured as they played at, so it was always cute watching them get flustered when she called a bluff. A smile flitted across her lips as her water and dish were set in front of her. “It’s called the Responsible Friend drink. Not for the faint of heart or low of impulse control,” she purred teasingly, plucking a cherry from the dish.

He hummed quietly beside her as he watched her split the cherry open and drip the cherry juice on top of the ice inside, being careful not to drip too much on herself. “That seems like an insult,” he hummed back.

“If you take offense,” she hummed, stirring the juice in, “that seems more like your problem than mine.”

He seemed taken aback by that, tilting his head at her curiously. “Do you… Not know who I am?”

She cocked her head and gave him a look at that. She tilted her head to try and get a better look at him, letting out a thoughtful hum. Now that she thought about it, there was something familiar about his face, but she couldn’t place it. Perhaps a model or something? Or maybe he’d had a short guest role on one of her television dramas? She shrugged instead and began dripping another cherry into her drink. “Kinda but… Not particularly. Why? Should I?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head. “Actually, you know what? I like this better,” he mused, leaning one elbow on the counter and cupping his head in his hand. “So, you’re the friend staying sober? Or just keeping your wits so no creeps try to take advantage?”

Fuyumi nodded her head back towards her friends, who had seemingly forgotten their beef and were now aggressively singing some anime opening at each other, just barely keeping their volume manageable. “Those are my wards for the night,” she said.

He snorted. “You sure you don’t want something a little stronger than cherry water? Which, by the way, is still incredibly unusual. I mean, lemon water I expect, or even lime water, but cherry? Not so much,”

“But you’ve never tried it,” she retorted, taking a sip and resisting the urge to sigh contentedly. He made a small noise of agreement as a thought occurred to her, her smile turning mischievous. “I could give you a little taste if you want.”

“Oh?” he mused, perking up. He shifted a bit closer, clearly intending to swipe her glass, but instead she moved closer to him herself. He seemed a bit stunned as she leaned forward to press her lips to his, one of her hands cupping the side of his neck. The spark of surprise left his eyes quickly enough as he melted into the kiss with a throaty groan, instead sliding shut to bask in it. She tilted her head to give a playful nip to his lower lip. Getting the hint, he opened his mouth and allowed her tongue to slip inside, prodding his to press along her own. The taste of spearmint from his mouth mingled with the cherry juice on her tongue, making for an odd but not entirely unpleasant combination.

It was the scandalized squeals of her friends that pushed her to pull away from the stranger, making a show of smirking and licking her lips at him. There was a blush dusting up along his cheeks and, if she was honest, she couldn’t help but think about how good he looked like that. “There, I gave you a little taste. Maybe we’ll see each other again, sometime,” she hummed, grabbing her drink and cherries to head back to her table. She would blame her behavior, uncouth as it was, on the energy her friends had been pumping out all night. Plus, she reminded herself, she was likely never going to see the guy again. Despite what he’d said, she doubted that he was anyone that noteworthy.

Three days later, Fuyumi’s heart leapt into her throat when, grinning up at her from glitzy headlines about Number Three Pro Hero Hawks, was her bar stool beau.

#crumbles grumbles #Huwumi #my fics #I hope this was a fun one!#I actually struggled a little to get this to work #But man am I really happy with how it turned out!

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blakescoven · 5 years

Text

Undress Rehearsal (Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader)

Summary: You got a fashion degree and moved to DC to work as stylist assistant. Unexpectedly you meet a familiar face during a meeting and it seems there’s a spark between you two...but things may take a wrong turn.

A/N: Hey lovelies!! This is my first fic EVER, so be nice! Also, forgive any grammar mistake (English isn’t my first language). Since the ending is kinda open, I guess I could write a PART 2. I’m so happy to finally be able to post this one-shot, even though it sucks! I’d appreciate every comment/reblog/DM about it and about how I could actually improve my writing. This is a sort of experiment! I’m still trying to figure out “my style”. Oh and this is important: bold type means flashback, italics are Y/N’s thoughts and // means a few days passed! ENJOY and thank you for reading! I love you.

Warnings: mean!Duncan (just a little), making out and veeery light NSFW, plot!twist, lol I think that’s enough(?)

Word count: 6.1K

moodboard by the talented @hecohansen31

You were late again. It happened twice this week. But how could that happen? You had always been a punctual and reliable person, at night you ensured that the alarm was correctly set and you never went to bed too late, afraid to not being able to wake up the morning after. So how could it be possible? Maybe because of your jetlag, but after almost a month, well, this had become a really bad excuse. Then perhaps, the frenetic pace was already affecting you that much, making you too tired to hurry up and get ready. This couldn’t happen again; you were jeopardizing your new dream job because of this straggler behavior. While you were running along the streets of Washington DC, those were your recurring thoughts. Your wheezing and the speeded-up heartbeats, pounding in your hears, were drowning out any deafening noise coming from cars and traffic, which always filled the city driveways.

From the early hours of the day, the avenues were swarming with people going to their office, each of them withdrawn into oneself, busy minding their own business with their smartphones, bringing takeaway breakfast on the other hand. You were way too anxious and distracted from running breathlessly; you had already bumped into three stupid human beings, slowly strolling down the sidewalk like damn sloths. Every single step was followed by a quick glance at your cellphone screen, checking the time and ensuring there was no missed call of your boss.

If you knew anything in this world, it was that you had to take this job seriously, dealing with the fact that your exhausting dues would have allowed your eager ass to work your way up and finally become a fashion designer. So, you didn’t expect any great satisfaction to come very soon. And starting from the bottom was really tough. After years of studying and a well-deserved university degree, you were prepared for whatever the future might have brought. Despite that, you didn’t expect at all to end up in DC, working as a stylist assistant. Sure, this would have opened the door to your real dream job, be part of the style department, designing collections for a luxury brand. You had tried your luck moving to New York, but you ended up broke, with no savings left and no available job opening. For this reason, you decided to take that chance here. You hadn’t made any progress till now though. You were new, yes, but your tasks and assignments were hardly restricted to bring coffee or running around the Capital with tons of garment bags for upcoming fittings.

Finally, after that insane 3km rush, without even stopping for a second - no, you couldn’t afford an Uber ride every time -, you arrived. Your feet hurt like hell, your cheeks covered with scarlet shades like the worst of sunburns and your breath coming in short gasps…and your hair, oh dear Lord, it was a mess. You were sure you were also sweating. Luckily, Richard, your boss, was quite nice to you and somewhat tolerant; he was sincerely impressed by all your efforts, skills and abilities, so much that he wasn’t utterly certain what you were doing there.

Five minutes past the established hour and, thank God, the client hadn’t arrived yet. You didn’t have much information or details about that meeting. You only knew that you had to help during a fitting for a client, extremely influential on the political scene. He needed a few new looks and outfits for public appearances, interviews, and fundraising events. Of course, you assumed he would have been an old middle-aged white man, with too much money to count and eager for power.

Mr moneybags is getting late tho. Too busy making grands? you thought.

Meanwhile, you were trying to look more presentable, also to not risk damaging the brand reputation.

“Y/N?”

Your calves burned and, in that moment, you thought that bringing extra sneakers would have been a good idea.

“Y/N?!”

Since the client hadn’t arrived yet, maybe you could sit down and rest for a minute on that super comfy booth near the mirror…

“Y/N!!!! HELLOO!!!” Your train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by your boss’ yells, which suddenly caught your attention.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I zoned out! Forgive me, what can I do for you?”

The man, a healthy and elegant 40ish brunette, looked at you concerned “Y/N I know it’s hard to settle down, but I need you to be 100% focused today. The man who’s coming is a big deal for us, he’s a powerful figure in Washington politics! He has recently taken her mother’s place as CEO of the family company. So, I want us to make a good impression!” after saying that, he looked at you from head to toe, a bit baffled.

“So…” he continued “…I need you to – in that moment you really hoped you were about to receive a major task, finally a turning point – ..to run to the bar across the street and buy some coffee, and come back quickly!” All your expectations fell apart in a sea of disappointment. “Hurry up!”

You put on a forced smile and went straight to the exit.

After having waited in line for centuries, you figured that probably the client had to have arrived, and therefore, just as you had started your day, you came back running as fast as you could, to save time.

You were holding the coffee cups in your left hand, while you were struggling to turn off your phone, which had started ringing. Opening the glass door with your hip, you were still trying to silence the ringtone, this, without even minding where put your feet up. Ugh, mom, stop calling me...always the worst timing! you screamed in your own mind, frowning. Before you could slow down your steps, one of your heels didn’t grip well the lacquered floor, making you stumble and trip. A sudden change in your balance and you couldn’t avoid slipping forward, causing the not-so-angelic flying of coffee directly on the special guest of the situation.

Damn it.

And to make matters worse, you fell to the ground, cursing the day you were born. Hell no, it can’t have really happened to me. You had just made a complete ass of yourself. You would have rather sink below the waves into the oblivion.

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT I-I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know h-how it happened!” you were apologizing, still keeping your eyes fixed on the once-full cups rolling down the parquet, next to your badly chipped mobile touchscreen.

“The floor must be slippery…please let me make it up to you, I ca- ” you stopped all of a sudden when you lifted your gaze, for the first time since you had stepped in. Standing in front of you there was the most attractive man you’d ever seen. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, like two burning flames almost forming deep holes in your soul.

It’s hot in here or it’s just me?

He was tall and his toned arms were easily visible through the once-white shirt. Now that expensive fashion piece was all covered by a huge stain of hot coffee. And it was your fault. You were speechless. Your attention all focused on the man’s features. Your gaze was busy running down those perfect shaped cheekbones and the sharp jawline. Oh boy, gods’ gift indeed.

Oddly familiar to you though.

You clearly remained to stare for too long to not be noticed, because the man himself broke the silence.

“Uhm, don’t worry” he seemed taken aback for a second “I’ll send it to the cleaners or I’ll throw it away, I don’t care” he said, immediately composing himself, while carefully unbuttoning the ruined shirt, with those long fingers... You were blushing. His low soothing voice sent shivers down your spine. But his tone was plain, no apparent emotion, he seemed almost indifferent, maybe even a little annoyed. Ah, pompous ass.

Your attention was caught by your boss, who, with a worried voice, while pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, proposed him to choose another shirt among the others and take it as an apology gift. The man accepted, nodding with a crooked smile and with smug remarks about the needlessness of gifts for a man as rich as him.

Cocky asshole! You mused, with a roll of her eyes.

Anxious to change the subject, Richard, started the introductions. “Mr Shepherd, she is my smart – but clearly clumsy – assistant, Y/N” at that very moment that name awoke the memories in your mind.

No. It can’t be true.

“Well, nice to meet you” he remarked “Y/N”, repeating your name like he was tasting it on his own tongue “..or so.” he added, with a stupid smug grin on his breathtaking face. When they shook hands, you felt a sort of jolt and realized you had been holding your breath all this time. You remained silent.

That was the same man you met 6 months ago on the flight you took to go to New York, when you moved for the first time. It was him the influential man of the meeting.

Duncan-fucking-Shepherd.

Duncan. This name was the only thing in your mind right now, while you were lying on the couch, in your little apartment, with a glass of wine loosely resting on your lower lip. Oh my God, did he recognize me? Did he figure out it was me? How had he called me that day? Oh, his angel, right. Fuck.

Your head hurt, but you couldn’t help but keep on repeat your two first meetings again and again in your mind. The Duncan Shepherd from today was completely different, compared to the man you had encountered on that plane.

He hadn’t talked about himself very much, just spilled that he was a businessman traveling for work. You had immediately noticed how mature he was to be in his late 20ish. And incredibly handsome. And charming. And seductive.

Ok, stop.

You still couldn’t understand why you. Among all the attractive available women he could easily have, during all the time of the flight, he had been flirting with you. You. He made you feel sexy, desirable and safe, after a very long time.

It was the first class. You were there because of a lucky misunderstanding. While the plane was taking off, you two had a moment, since he saw you panicking. You had started talking for real only two hours after having left Milan. The conversation started casually, then developed into a flirty game. Little did you knew that a few hours later, you would eventually find yourselves making out so much intensely, whilst the rest of the passengers was sleeping with lights off. This wasn’t like you; you were strangers after all. Damn, you only knew his first name. But you couldn’t help your crazy attraction towards him. A sort of electricity, a particular connection that you had never felt with anybody else in your life.

You were staring off into space, completely lost in your inner thoughts, while biting hard your lip and fidgeting with the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You nervously swallowed and closed your eyes. Your hand began to move from the fabric and wander over your bare legs, brushing them with your fingertips. Throwing back your head and swallowing again, you frowned and sighed. You couldn’t make those thoughts disappear. He got under your skin and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake him.

His soft lips on yours, hot and peachy, the trailing of his wet open-mouthed kisses along your throat and the series of marks he was leaving on your skin, on the way down your collarbone. Feeling the smile of the other against your lips as you two kissed. The best feeling in the world. His small moans when you had pulled his lower lips between your teeth, while his hands were touching and roaming all over your body, as if he wanted to memorize each spot, each curve, each part of you. “Baby I wish it was just the two of us right now, damn, I want you so badly” he whispered. God, if they had been alone, you’d have gone further for sure. You were both turned on, you could tell, especially from the prominent bulge on his designer pants. All you wanted was to climb on top of him, straddling his hips, panting in his hear and feel his hot breath all over you. Intense was the craving to undress him, feel his skin against yours. Shit, it was like a living a dream.

The meeting had been canceled and rescheduled for tomorrow. The situation was quite unpleasant. What you were supposed to do now?

Judgment Day had come. You hadn’t slept at all, all night spent tossing and turning between the sheets and looking at the ceiling. How were you supposed to act now? Should you have mentioned anything? What was really killing you, was the feeling that ‘your moment’ had meant nothing for him. Yes, after 6 months, you had gone over it, also because you had no idea how to contact him. But after seeing him again, all the buried thrills came rushing back. You absolutely needed to test the waters today. What did you have to lose? Well, your dignity maybe. If he wanted to, Duncan could have easily said something. And of course, a man of his status could have anything, or anybody, he wanted. Maybe you were overthinking, maybe not.

Since it was almost dawn, and the sun was peeking through the blinds, creating a delicate play of lights and shadows on the curtains, you decided you could actually distract yourself choosing what to wear for the meeting. You shouldn’t have done it. Your bedroom had become a battlefield, all your clothes scattered all over it, like some lifeless leftovers of the closet, now empty. Almost like a little bomb went off. You kept trying combinations on combinations, each time taking off the pieces and throwing them away anywhere around you, as if you were on the verge of a breakdown. It was still a business meeting; you couldn’t dress up too revealing or doll up too much. But at the same time, you’d never give up on being yourself and express your personality through what you wore. Respecting yourself was the most important thing. Self-love. However, this didn’t solve the problem at all. You wanted to appear at your best, challenge him, in a subtle way.

On your way to the office, an unexpected call tuned you away from your own thoughts.

“Richard! Good morning! Are you calling me for coffee? Because I’ve already stopped off at the bar, now tell me who is the best assistant in the whole world?! And I’m not even late!” your smile vanished as soon as your boss answered.

“WHAT?! What does it mean you won’t be there today?” Your heart skipped a beat and started pumping so much blood through your veins, that you felt as a heatwave was rushing inside of you. “W-well if you have family issues, we agree that it’s necessary to postpone the gathering..I-” your eyes widened at the realization that you’d be alone. With Duncan.

You almost fainted on the spot.

“I’m sure you can handle it on your own! You can still reach me with a phone call, if you ever need me. Plus, don’t you think this would be the right chance to prove yourself and finally level up, get noticed and considered for that vacant position in the style & design dep.? My money’s on you, girl!”

How could you blame him, though? He was always so encouraging.

You sighed through the phone, so he added “Look, it won’t be hard. Remember that Mr Shepherd is in your hands. We have to turn him into one of the brand advocates; he’s young, a self-made man, the best choice to promote the brand awareness. It’s up to you now.”

Wow, that’s very reassuring you figured, shaking your head.

“Ok, you can do this, I have to go now, let me know how it goes. Bye!” Fuck.

“W-wait! I can’t do that withou-” he has already hung up. Looking up to the sky and letting out a frustrating grunt, you allowed yourself a childish whine and mumbled a ‘why me’.

Now you were standing outside the building, trying to collect yourself before entering. You were wearing an oversized see-through blouse, tucked in a black knee-length skirt, and an *accent color* blazer with rolled-up sleeves, to complete the look. You were ready to fight. No more clumsy bullshit.

Breathe, remember to breathe you reminded yourself, looking at the elevator door.

You strode next to the receptionist’s desk, Tiffany, or, as you liked to call her, ‘Crazypants’; since her eyes were always so disturbingly wide open – Does she ever blink? – and her hair painfully pinned back, so tight that must have hurt her. She seemed a cross between a barbie and a psycho killer. As soon as you walked by her desk, Crazypants greeted you overly excited, calling you with her earsplitting high-pitched voice. You put on your fakest smile and replied,

“Morning Tiff, uhm, I wish I could stay and chat, but I have work to-”

“The client is already here. He’s waiting for you in the fitting room” she winked. Hell, you hoped your blushing wasn’t so obvious, you couldn’t even have a few minutes to be psychologically prepared. Well, maybe better pull off the band-aid.

“Thank you for warning me! I’ll be right there” you answered. Not even before your exams you felt all this pressure.

Why is it always so hot?!

Walking along the hallway as if you were going to your own execution, you found yourself in front of the door of the rehearsal room. You gently opened it and entered. Do you know when, at some point in movies, there’s a slow-motion moment with background music?! There it was. Precisely. He had his back turned, gazing the skyline through the glass wall. And the second he heard the clicking of a pair of heels, he turned his head, smiling at you and looking intensely at your figure. You were about to die for real now.

How could someone be so beautiful?

His hair perfectly styled, his hot stubble,... Oh, that stubble was your weakness. You could already feel it between your legs and…

“Hey hey, easy with that” he teased with his deep honeyed voice, pointing the take-out coffee cups you were holding. You winced and giggled

“I’ll never stop apologizing about that, ehm, incident…but if you want one, go ahead!”

You looked at each other smiling for a while, until you had to break the silence and eventually get down to business. “So, I guess it’s better if we start…Mr Shepherd, so then you’ll be free to go back to work”, he exhaled and nodded

“Oh please, just call me Duncan.”

You saw a sort of shift in his features. His face went blank. He adopted a bossier and intimidating position, like last time. Ok, maybe he just wants to keep it professional, I understand.

“When is Richard coming?” he questioned while taking his trench coat off. “To be honest, it’ll just be me today, but it’s all right, you’re in good hands” you slightly smiled. He sighed again and you rose your eyebrow, taking it as an unspoken insult.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, yes, I didn’t come here to waste my time with a newbie assistant.” Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to get upset darling, this is what you are, after all” he stated shrugging. You were speechless; yes, you were an assistant, but the way he said that, as if you were a dumb zero…What an asshole.

“Oookay, since I’m here..let’s continue” he glanced at you, waiting for her next move. “I agree, you can change in the wa-” you paused; he was literally undressing in front of you.

“What? There’s nothing you’ve never seen...I guess” You were confused…was he teasing you or something? “You should be more professional, I’m saying it for you”, your rage slowly increasing and flowing throughout your entire body. He was a completely different man, with all those unnecessary mean remarks. He gave you mixed feelings. You would have punched him, but at the same time, contemplating his perfectly-shaped heavenly body, his toned muscles, his thighs..you wanted to jump on him, kiss him and be his, in every way possible.

“You’re staring.”

“W-what?! No. I’m waiting for you to finish undressing, so I can give you the first change to wear..”

“Sure.”

You’d already had enough of his attitude. “I suggest starting with this evening suit, since Richard told me you’ll attend a charity gala in a few days.”

“Hush, please, save it. I don’t need all your pointless suggestions. I can handle it by myself.” he seemed almost..angry? You didn’t know how to hit back anymore. Why was he acting like that, all of a sudden? He tried on a few different outfits while you were staying there, silent, shifting your weight from a leg to another, your eyes wandering through the room, your lips pressed into a thin line and your mind trying to figure out what was happening. Duncan, noticing the tapping of your fingers on your thigh, rolled his eyes and gave you an annoyed look.

Then he huffed “Impatient, uh?”

You were hovering on the brink of an outburst.

“Why don’t you do your job and bring me some water, or take notes, or whatever you get paid for?”

“My job is helping you find a set of appropriate clothes for various occasions, trying to create the right mix & match that suits your taste and personality...” you retorted in a plain tone.

“Oh, thanks for the not required explanation, Wikipedia..”

“..but I’m not stupid, I know what a fucking stylist does” he was pushing your buttons.

“If you’d allow me to do my job, instead of questioning me, I could recommend something..”

“No need to whine, baby girl…So do it, instead of staying there like a scared little girl.”

“If relying on someone to select your wardrobe really bothers you..why don’t you choose them by yourself?” you sassed, struggling to remain polite.

“Well, I’ve demanded the help of a professional, not that of a ‘coffee-bringer’…and I’m wasting my time here”.

Ok, that’s enough.

He was still a client, but for you being treated like that wasn’t acceptable anymore. “You know what? I don’t fucking care if I get fired after saying these words. But I’m done with your dumbass comments. You’re a douchebag. I’m trying to do my job and, just because you’re rich and influential, you think you can treat me like that. Like I’m trash?” you were finally giving in to an outburst “The saddest thing is that I really hoped you would remember me. About that moment we shared 6 months ago, on that flight to New York. But obviously, I’ve given it much thought. Turns out that I’m just one of many, aren’t I? I’ve been thinking about you for weeks and when I saw you again, it all came flooding back. I’m so stupid. It’s not your fault, I was wrong to think that day could have really meant something.”

While talking, you were struggling to hold back the tears, you weren’t supposed to look pathetic, but your eyes were already watering. “So, do me a favor: end this meeting now. I’ll call Richard and tell him to take care of you, since you do not believe I’m capable enough to fulfill your needs..”

“..oh and don’t worry about seeing me again, I don’t want anything to do with you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” you spat, entering the small wardrobe room, without bothering to switch on the light, hoping that your angry tears would have remained unnoticed in the darkness and that Duncan would have gone for good. So you started moving crutches on the clothes stand, to make room for those outfits to restock over.

Unexpectedly you felt an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. It was Duncan. He hadn’t left.

His body pressed against yours, you were paralyzed, his arms keeping a firm grip on you. What’s happening? You knew you should have pushed him back and kick him out, but something inside you decided against it. It was like a part of your dumb heart wanted to stay still in that position forever. You two remained silent, until he whispered in your hear, with his hot breath and his cologne filling your nostrils - a mixture of cinnamon, sandalwood and tobacco.

“I’m sorry..” he sighed. He sounded sincere.

“..I went too far.”

Now your own hands were resting upon his arms. You could feel the heat his body was radiating right now. With a honeyed soft tone, he murmured “Please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that having you standing here again, in front of me, stunned me. I didn’t know what to do and I misunderstood your demeanor. I thought you were pretending nothing had happened, or that you didn’t recall that day, or that you simply didn’t care.”

His hold slowly loosened, allowing you to turn around and look at him with narrowed eyes and a puzzled expression, without a word.

“Uhm, I’m not very good at communicating my emotions, but you’re right. I’ve been a dick. You didn’t deserve it, but I was overwhelmed by the attempt to suppress my own feelings. Since I saw you again,”

he paused,

“you are all I can think about.” he admitted, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb, but you tried to resist him,

“I hope you’re not trying to play me, because otherwise I’ll smash that stupid hot smirk to the ground.”

“So do you think I’m hot, uh?!”

“You dumbass.”

“God, you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad.” he teased, coming closer.

“What?” you giggled. He stared at your lips “I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you right now…” and unexpectedly, his hand drifted to your hip, pulling you even closer. You inhaled deeply. You were against his warm chest, sculpted to perfection. Why must he be so perfect? You placed your hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead you left it there. You froze, from both fear and excitement.

You two stared into each other’s eyes and his breathing quickened as did yours. He slowly leaned in, so his forehead rested against yours. You closed your eyes. Your faces were inches apart now, and he lightly traced your lips with one finger. His other hand placed behind your neck, shortening the distance even more.

Your noses bumped and your mouths matched up slightly-opened, breathing each other’s air directly. He brushed his lips against yours and you freaking loved it. You loved the way your body melted into his. The way your lips perfectly fitted like two puzzle pieces. The way Duncan held you tighter and tighter. It sent shivers down your back. His only desire was to touch you, to move his hands under your layers and feel your smooth skin.

You two broke the kiss for a second to catch your breath. Then he pulled you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense. Duncan lowered his hands down your hips, cupping your ass and dragging you impossibly close. You deepened the kiss swallowing his groan of pleasure as you lost into each other, no space between you two. His hands were exploring your body, while you grabbed his hair tightly to restrain your own moans.

Slowly, you started exploring each other’s mouths with your tongues. Sometimes sucking his lower lip and biting it a little bit. He started kissing your jaw and leaving hickeys on your neck. He didn’t want to let you go, so he pulled you again and kissed you so hard, with much more intensity. He squeezed you, suggesting that he wasn’t going to stop. You didn’t mind at all and continued making out.

He slowly put his hands under your blouse, trying to reach and unhook your bra, eager to run his fingers along your breasts and rub it. You began unbuttoning his button-down, seductively leaving wet kisses and love bites on his chest. He moaned. Then Duncan raised your blouse and took it off completely, so he could see you.

“You’re beautiful” he purred, and started massaging your chest and kissing it hardly, licking and biting gently your nipple. While Duncan was playing with your body, you could only keep on tugging his hair, making his moans vibrate against your body. Then he kneeled down kissing your stomach.

Both of you couldn’t silent your groans anymore, the entire room was filled by sexual noises. But you didn’t care at all. You knew where it was going. Duncan pushed you against a wall, grinding on you and you could clearly feel his hardness pressed against your body. You needed more friction.

“Jump.” he suddenly hinted, and used his veiny arms to hold you up by your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your core was throbbing at that very moment.

But you were brought back to planet Earth right after; that divine feeling was ruined by a pesky thought that clouded your mind.

What if he’s just interested in sex?

He sensed your sudden slowing down. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you remained silent, he brushed his mouth against your temple,

“Or now.”

he followed the line of your cheekbone,

“Or now.”

now he was kissing your chin,

“Or—”

then your lips were against his, again. You kept undressing slowly, savoring the moment.

But that damn thought came back, stuck in your mind. And eventually it hit you. “Wait…wait” you said, trying to steady your breathing.

“What’s wrong angel? I did something wrong or..” he questioned worriedly. “No, not at all, it was perfect..but I don’t think this is right.”

“Wait what?! Why?” Duncan replied in disbelief.

“I’m not a yes girl, Duncan. I’m not looking for casual hookups, I really want to know you better and see where this leads us.” you smiled reassuringly, caressing his cheek. You were scared as fuck. Maybe he wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, just random booty calls. But you had to take the risk. You wanted to.

“Uhm..yeah. I guess that sounds fair enough.” he chuckled and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “How about a coffee date? I know a place, it’s quite secluded, to not attract the attention of press and journalists” you tilted your head and frowned,

“What do you mean?”

“Angel, I don’t want you to be targeted by newspapers, they aim to find some dirt on me and make every aspect of my private life public. I prefer keeping a low profile, and put you in an uncomfortable position is the last thing I would want.” “Oh, ok. I got it.” you were a little thoughtful, to be honest. But in that moment, you would have agreed with everything he was saying. You used every inch of strength you had, to stop and not go further. Not that there was anything wrong with that. You just wished to learn more about that handsome man in front of you; his desires, his passions, his values and aspirations.

“I’d better get back to work, they’ll wonder what happened to me.” he smirked. “Yeah, you better hurry up, then” you laughed, while putting your blouse on. “I’m gonna put aside the chosen clothes” you informed, but before you could leave the cramped room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in his arms, giving a last soft peck on your lips.

“How can I focus now, with the thought of you against me?!”

“You’ll have to make do with the memory..” you shot back “..for now.” you cooed, whispering in his hear.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. You had exchanged numbers and with all those texts you were sending to each other, you felt like a schoolgirl again. Nothing could have ruined that sensation. Before going back home, Richard called you, questioning you about the meeting, not noticing your struggle to not make disconnected sentences or beat around the bush, to hide your embarrassment. Then, to thank you for having his back, he gave you another assignment: a high-society lady had requested a selection of gowns to choose, to attend a few fundraising events. Another important add-on for your CV. A few more efforts and they would have finally offered you the long-awaited position in the creative team.

The consultation had been set up two days later, you had to go to the customer’s penthouse this time. Ugh, lazy rich people. You rang the doorbell and right after you were greeted by a thin blonde girl, all fake boobs and tinted tips, wearing a dress that seemed closer to a long top, rather than an actual dress.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Come in! I’ll be right back” she yelled. You came in holding the garment bag; you were shocked when you found out how actually big the apartment was: super modern, black & white themed and with some art hanging on the walls.

Uhm, de gustibus you muttered to yourself.

“Here I am, sorry for the waiting. I am Madison!” Why rich people seem so reluctant to share their last name with me? you mused, smiling to yourself.

“Let’s start, shall we?”

And then Madison took you to what has to be her large bedroom. Odd. That seemed more like a bachelor to you, but judging wasn’t your thing.

The fitting went smooth as silk. This Madison was a bombshell, every single dress fitted her body as it was sewn on her. For the upcoming event she chose a nude silk dress, that perfectly matched her skin tone. She looked pretty excited for the pick, so much that she started screaming and calling out loud, making you aware that there was someone else around.

“Muffin come here!!! I chose the dress!! It’s perfect oh my God! You must see it before I take it off!”

MUFFIN.

Seriously? Do not laugh, please, do not laugh.

You were biting her lip a little too hard. While Madison kept calling her…muffin, you decided to do something and began packing all the stuff back up into the bag.

“Oh finally, you walk so slow, babe…now, look! What do you think?” Before the man could answer she continued “Oh wait, how rude I am. Y/N, this is my fiancé...”

As soon as you turned around and lifted your gaze, your heart stopped beating.

“…Duncan!”

His smile soon disappeared too, replaced by a shocked and guilty expression, like a deer caught in the headlights. You froze in place.

You were trying to hold back the impending flood of tears, washing it away with your anger. A million different feelings rushed through you, but at the same time you couldn’t feel anything, just your own heart, literally breaking down in pieces.

“Do you already know each other?” Madison asked, noting Duncan’s surprise. You gathered all the strength left within you and stated

“Just one of the many customers.”

Then, lowering your broken voice, you sputtered a “Now I really have to go.”

Without saying anything more, you took the garment bag and run straight to the door, shutting it down behind your back. Right after, a teardrop rolled over your cheek, and your eyes started watering. Once that the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Before turning into a sobbing mess, you walked fast down the hallway, reaching the elevator and waiting for the doors to open up.

Before you could take another step, a large hand took you by the wrist, keeping you in place. You turned around and instantly pushed him back, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“Please,” he begged,

“Let me explain. Please, I don’t want to lose you! We have something..w-we can talk about it, please, wait!”

“Go to Hell” you snapped;

and then you shoved his hand away, entering the elevator. Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. You two looked at each other one last time, shedding tears. The eyes of both soaking blatantly. And then the doors shut.

That heartbreak felt like concrete drying in your chest.

________________________________________________________________

Tagging: (I hope you don’t mind BUT tell me if you want to be removed, I was just curious to know your opinion about it, if you'd like to read it) MUCH LOVE @ladynuwanda @hecohansen31 @michael-langdon-appreciation @sojournmichael @so-langdon @stupidocupido @sammythankyou @emmyrosee

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gwenbrightly · 5 years

Text

Elements

Oh look! My brain decided to create a random drabble about elemental powers instead of focusing on OMAC… Oops. I guess Misako's appearance will have to wait… All the headcanons and stories I've been reading lately that mention Lloyd's powers acting up when he gets emotional made the temptation to write this too great. So yeah. This one shot can probably be considered a part of Of Milk and Cookies, and takes place just after the chapter titled Awkward. I hope you enjoy!

Elemental powers are weird, Lloyd muses early one morning not too long after their visit to Darkley's Boarding School. He can control his now – sorta – and the others can do some pretty amazing stuff with theirs – like being able to lift a sports car with your pinkie. Or spark fire with a snap of your fingers (literally). Or charge your phone using only your own energy. Or meditate inside of a freezer for hours on end without getting cold (okay, maybe he hadn't been around for that). All those things are incredibly cool, and Lloyd's not complaining, because someday he'll be able to do all of that too, which is super exciting. He can't wait, really.

But sometimes... Sometimes having powers isn't exactly the best. He's been around this weird, dorky family of his long enough to notice that there are days where things get a little out of wack. Where Kai or Zane get emotional and the temperature around them suddenly changes to the extreme, or any number of other bizarre side effects. Just last week, Lloyd walked into their skimpy apartment only to feel his hair immediately begin defying gravity due to the sheer amount of electricity filling the air. Puns involving shocking had most definitely been made. Cole and Jay's latest argument (See: whether or not pineapple is an acceptable topping for pizza) had gotten a little... heated, and the master of lightning's powers had acted up as a result. It wasn't the first time this sort of thing had happened, and the blonde is pretty sure it won't be the last. Still, he has to admit that it's a little (a lot) unnerving to deal with the aftermath of an elemental outburst... Especially... now that he's experienced his own for the first time... Okay, he'll admit it – that's the real reason he's up right now – not because he was craving poptarts. Which is what he plans to tell the others if they question it. Not that they're awake, so he's safe. For the time being, at least. Maybe he can get this glass cleaned up and replace the lightbulb before anyone finds out? If he's lucky. Lloyd slips over to the meager set of cupboards that they've installed in one corner. They have to be keeping some extra lightbulbs around here somewhere... Honestly, given what's happened during training, he really shouldn't be surprised that his latest nightmare ended with him blowing up their light source – it had been so vivid, and just… he'd woken up terrified. He hates feeling like that. He'd stared at the mess for quite some time, too shocked to do anything about it at first, but. Having all that power running through his veins was guaranteed to catch up with him eventually. He knows that, but it doesn't make attempting to quietly remove broken glass from the floor any less of a struggle. Carefully picking up the largest piece of what used to be a lightbulb, Lloyd shoves it in the garbage. Bit by bit, the debris begins to disappear. The green ninja has managed to dispose of most it by the time someone else wakes up (it's impressive that it took this long, to tell the truth). It's Nya, of course, trying hard to cover up the fact that she isn't a morning person (at all). The girl seems to have some sort of magical sensing abilities that activate whenever he's in trouble. She gives him a concerned look before wordlessly grabbing a fresh lightbulb from a shelf too high for him to reach. The samurai drags their one whole rickety stool over to the socket and screws it in with a large yawn. Then, Nya gives the floor a quick scan, looking for any remaining hazards that might exist. There are none.

"So. I earned some extra cash at the autobody shop yesterday. Wanna go get some donuts?" The girl asks her adoptive brother, eventually.

"Huh?" Lloyd stares at her, not fully processing the question. She shakes her head with a sigh. Clearly today's gonna be a rough one. He really could stand to get away from the apartment for awhile – to decompress and all that therapeutic stuff you're supposed to do when you're dealing with emotional triggers.

"Donuts, Lloyd. You know, those pastries police men are so obsessed with? I'm leaving in five with or without you." His mind may not immediately get what she's saying, but his stomach certainly does. Growl.

"That's a yes, then?" Nya says, smirking.

"Sure. Okay." He replies with a shrug, because donuts do sound awfully good, now that he thinks about it and. He's not gonna pass up the opportunity to eat something other than off brand cereal for breakfast. That would be completely out of character, no matter what the reason for doing so is. They slip out of the apartment, careful not to wake the others (though Cole's definitely going to be offended if he finds out about it later) and wander down the sidewalk. As it turns out, the nearest donut shop is less than a block away. The smell of freshly fried dough greets the pair as they push the door open. Mmm… It's only when she notices the distinct lack of customers inside that Nya realizes how early it is. A glance at her phone (which she probably should've checked before they left) tells her it's not even 5:30 yet. Oh well, if the place is open, it's not like they're intruding or anything. Lloyd perks up noticeably when she lets him pick out his own donut – a questionable decision, since he immediately chooses the one with as much frosting as humanly possible and a thick coating of rainbow sprinkles. It even has gummy worms on it. A part of her wants to scold him for being so unhealthy, but the grin on his face. She can't. So, she selects a donut of her own (powdered sugar with raspberry filling) and hands the drowsy cashier a bill. They find themselves a booth near the windows lining the front of the store and enjoy their breakfast in silence for a few minutes before Nya says anything to Lloyd.

"So. Nightmare?"

"Yup." He tells her in a small voice, playing absent mindedly with one of his gummy worms.

"I kinda figured." She comments wearily, "You gonna be okay?"

"Dunno. Hope so."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I-I…. Don't really remember much about the dream itself… Just… It was so freaky to wake up with the light going crazy… and then it exploded, and I've never had my powers go out of control on me like that and…" Nya wraps a comforting arm around the blonde's shoulders. He leans against her, regretting having been woken up so early, and perhaps still a little shaken by the events that transpired earlier.

"I'm sure it was pretty freaky… You know you can always wake on of us up if you need to, right?" Lloyd nods unconvincing. There are no tears, surprisingly, which Nya takes as a good sign.

"I know… And I was gonna. Eventually. But I wanted to take care of the glass first – so nobody stopped on it. Thanks for helping. With the lightbulb. Being short sucks sometimes."

"Course it does. But it's gonna suck even more someday when you finally stop being such a pipsqueak and end up taller than me." Asserts the samurai. He giggles weakly.

"You don't know that that's what's gonna happen… maybe you'll get lucky?"

"I guess you have a point there. But seriously, if you have any more issues with your powers, I'm here to help. And so are the others. I mean, Kai accidentally set his bunk on fire when he first got his true potential… Maybe you should talk to him about this – I'm sure he'd understand…" Kai is a pretty okay listener from what Lloyd's seen at this point. He probably wouldn't have convinced himself to revisit Darkley's without him.

"M'kay. I'll think about it." He decides through a mouthful of donut, "Not right now though? I kinda just wanna forget about the whole thing…"

"That's valid. This can be our little secret. Betcha the guys aren't even awake yet." The girl agrees, figuring he'll share more when he's ready. She's not gonna push him. This time.

"They're really missing out. This donut is delicious." Lloyd tells her, clearly done talking about powers, nightmares, or anything related. Life's really not so bad when you've got an awesome older sister to buy you junk good. Even if it is only because your elemental abilities went haywire in your sleep.

"Totally. But they don't need to know anything about that. You, on the other hand, will be taking a nap as soon as training is over for the day. And I don't meaning laying around reading comic books. Actually sleeping will be expected." Nya stated, giving him a pointed look.

"What? But that's not fair! I just got a new one!" Lloyd groans indignantly.

"And I'm sure you find plenty of time to read it eventually. However, you also need your rest, so that's gonna have to be a priority for now." Deep down, he knows she's right. He just doesn't plan on admitting it. So, he decides to focus on what's left of the mound of pastry, frosting, and sprinkles instead. He feels better now, anyway.

" So, that happened?" Lloyd says one day, several years down the road, as he stares at a soaking wet Kai. He's not even sure where that much water could possibly have come from.

"Uh... Oh my gosh, Kai, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..." Nya apologizes, attempting to use her abilities to draw the moisture away from her brother.

"I mean, we all knew it was gonna happen eventually. S'not that big of a deal. But you do owe me a new tube of hair gel..." He shrugs, not particularly concerned. The reason for their... Disagreement isn't important anymore. Things have been tense for everyone since the battle with Morro. He just wants her to be okay. She's not exactly the biggest fan of her elemental powers in the first place.

"Yeah. That's fair." She agrees after a second, looking sheepish.

"Happens to all of us." Lloyd reminds her, "Wanna go get some donuts?"

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #my fics #lloyd #nya #kai #elemental powers #side effects #stuff explodes #but donuts make things better

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dcrken · 5 years

Text

* ♡ ˙ ˖ / herman tommeraas + cis male + he/him. — did you know beck’s real name is beckett holsen ? oh yeah, they are a twenty-two year old bartender known as the dirtbag that has been in town for three years. this pansexual aries can be truthful + self-reliant, as well as sardonic + assertive. i hear their soulmark is a wilted rose on the neck, and their soulmate looks like axel auriant. bruised knuckles, neatly poured shots, a journal filled with unspoken words.

hello friends, it’s cee again for an encore round feating this .... lil fucker , BECK ! he’s the light of my life & a recycled muse that i would do anything for, but he’s a lil demon so i apologize in advance. again , please give this a lil LIKE & i’ll hop into your dms !

BACKGROUND. abuse tw, alcohol abuse tw, death tw.

a true southern boy, beckett was born in savannah, georgia. he’s got a very norwegian family, so he speaks fluent norwegian & english, but he’s never been outside of the states. he was born to a very protective mother and a very focused father. where his mother was the loving one, his father was less. surrounded by drinking and anger problems, his father was never comforting or loving, and beck wasn’t raised to be kind and sincere.

as beck grew, his fathers personality and anger only settled in more. often times there would be disagreements that got physical, and the more his father yelled at beck to hit back, the more willing he was to defend himself. unfortunately, his father considered this a+ parenting and felt this was helping beck ‘be a man’ and grow up.

eyes often doted with bruises and knuckles sore from fighting back, beck found solace in his mother. she was kind, soft spoken, and he had no idea why she was still with his father. despite their so called love, he was a terrible husband and father, and no amount of poor guidance would lead beck to think otherwise.

meanwhile, as beck made his way through school, he had a gift for intelligence. he excelled quicker than any other student in his school and was quickly pushed up two grades. at barley seven, he was already passing through third grade and was quickly labeled as gifted.

though he was intellectually on a higher level, he wasn’t at the maturity rate to be so young going through much higher grades. he often got in trouble for acting out, mostly due to his high intelligence mixed with his low maturity. by the age of sixteen, he had already graduated high school and was beginning college. it wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy school or learning ; he’s got a major love for reading and learning, but it was hard to have a stigma over his head.

meanwhile, his father was pushing him to do better and better - there were children who graduated college at sixteen, and his father always thought a pushy do better attitude mixed with physical forces would someone make beck smarter than he was. however, beck knew he wasn’t child prodigy material, he just excelled in school and was able to finish earlier than others. but his father always expected the world, and it weighed heavy on the young boy.

at sixteen years old, beckett left home as he was excepted into princeton university. he longed to be away from home, but he was clearly not ready to be on his own yet. still young and impressionable, his inherited traits got the best of him, and beck had fallen into the partying scene. his father, a business man, had urged his son to become a business major despite his wants to be a teacher, so he did; and it drained the life out of him.

he was still making his way through, despite his struggles, and only faltered when he came home for christmas when he was seventeen. no phone call or text had indicated that anything was wrong - and he realized he had been too focused on his party scene and actually being a kid to call home. however, as he returns home, he’s met with the news that his mother had passed away. his father, being the asshole that he is, didn’t even both having a funeral or contacting their son.

devastated and at wits end with his father, they get into a huge brawl which leaves beck pretty badly hurt and with no choice but to go back to princeton because at least he’s not with his dad.

he only lasts until his eighteenth birthday before he drops out and leaves the state, his degree, and his abusive father behind. he does however, bring the emotional baggage of his childhood and the loss of his mother with him, along with all of the funds he had in savings for college; now protected in his own bank account. he drives and drives until he finds jericho, a small hidden gem that his life had needed.

with his struggles still tucked under his belt, he finds solace in a local bar that allowed him to bartend ( thanks , maine bartending law ), though his job is threatened several times when he’s caught drinking on the job. slowly, however, he pulled himself together. he still has some missing pieces that likely won’t ever put themselves back, but he spend the last three(ish) years becoming his own person.

sometimes he regrets not finishing college, not being there for his mom, and everything else that haunts him from his past, but he’s young, independent, and as happy as he thinks he can get in the small town. he still struggles with alcohol issues, but working at the bar as well as confiding in the owner has actually helped him stay grounded; and his biggest inspiration being.

the focus his anger and to keep his head on straight, i feel like he was briefly involved with some underground fighting but it turned into boxing & some mma type fights locally. nothing professionally or as a steady form of income, but more so for his own well being and so he doesn’t get into actual fights with people. he likes fighting because he grew up with a heavy self defense mindset, and it helps keep him focused and gets out his anger. definitely has a little area at home with a punching bag so he can let out his anger when needed.

PERSONALITY.

beck is ... damaged, but he’s not an asshole. well. he’s kind of an asshole. he’s definitely got temperament issues, but he controls it through work & fights. it helps keep him centered so he doesn’t actually punch people. is incredibly impatient and probably carries a stress ball around with him. i’m not kidding.

however i gotta be honest he’s not that controlled. will probably punch you if you piss him off. very fighty. also

incredibly cynical and doesn’t really believe all the hype around jericho & soulmates. the idea of love in his head is incredibly jaded and he doesn’t think he’ll ever find it. sometimes all he sees in himself is his father and would rather not induce that onto other people. likely comes off as a player-type, though it’s not intentional.

i don’t know if i’d classify him as brutally honest -- but he’s very truthful. he doesn’t intentionally say things to be rude or unkind , but his truth isn’t always what people want to hear and he doesn’t mind being the one who has to say it.

comes off as very much emotionless and that’s how he likes it. he doesn’t like to show weakness. he doesn’t necessarily come off as closed off - he’s honest and truthful , but in technical terms he’s very closed off. little to no people know anything about his past because he won’t talk about it. the most he discloses is that he’s from georgia and he went to princeton.

curses like a sailor. every other work is fuck. every insult in suck my dick. i’m sorry.

he writes in a journal to get his thoughts/feelings out on paper and out of his head. if you touch it, he’ll kill you. not a joke. he also really loves to read??? two things that are usually Unexpected of him.

very typical leather jacket wearing cigarette smoking kinda ‘bad boy’ image although he has a great smile when he decides to use it.

he’s slowly beginning to understand that he needs to let go of his anger & past and is actually pretty happy in jericho. felt super lonely for.... years and probably doesn’t feel as lonely anymore.

LINKS.

wanted connections.

stats.

pinterest.

#jericho.intro #beckintro

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venus-says · 5 years

Text

Kiratto Prichan Episodes 52-58

K-A-W-A-I-I~♪

Surprise~da-mon

I wasn’t going to do this. If you know me you know I don’t have the best track record with everything related to the pretty series. But since the begining of this year, as I saw myself getting more angry at Aikatsu, I’ve grown found of Prichan and saw myself enjoying the show quite a lot. So here we are to follow season 2.

I don’t plan on writing as much as I do for precure or aikatsu, because even though I like the show I wouldn’t call it a favorite and I’m not that attached to it, so my eager to shower it in praises or think of ways to make shitty things better isn’t the greatest. But talking a lot is part of my being so let’s see how that goes. XD

Before I start talking about this episode here’s a quick summary on my thoughts from Prichan’s season 1: For the most part I don’t care for the plot, specially when it regards to the main trio. Meltic StAr is my shit and I would say I love them just as much as I love Honey Cat. In general the beginning is boring but the show gets way more interesting in the second half, that’s when good songs finally start to come out. Mirai is as bland as any protagonist, Emo annoys me, Rinka I don’t have an opinion on her, Anna is hilarious, Sara is bae, Mel is my favorite (even being the most stereotypical character EVER), Anju is a goddess and she carries it.

And I guess that’s all you need to know of how I feel about season 1. Now to season 2.

Episode 52 doesn’t have a lot going on. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t amazing neither. Mirai’s new song is meh but is better than her solo from last season. The idea of doing everything on the jewel pact is pretty dumb, but I can give that a pass (I think). Meganee being annoyed at Dear Crown’s popularity was amazing, probably the best part of the episode.

In just a few minutes I already love Maria and Suzu more than I ever liked the main trio in the past 51 episodes. I love their looks and personalities and I can’t wait to see more!

One thing that I like is that this episode lays down everything we need to know for this season and they set all of the objectives nice and clear from the start. Is nice to know what to expect and what to look for. There’s no mystery, they go there, make their show, do a live, if they’re worth of it they get a jewel coord and when 10 are chosen they’ll compete to get the diamond dress, simple and easy.

The Designers 7 are now the Designers 10, which means there won’t be no new characters added other than Maria, Suzu and Daia on her non virtual form. Which is kinda good and kinda isn’t, and hope they make a good use of this shorter cast. While talking on designers I’m kinda disappointed because I thought Anju was going to follow along Aria and start her own brand and I was really excited about that but judging by the numbers she’s still with Precious Muse. But that’s not really an issue, just me being me again.

I have just one word for Episode 53: KAWAII~

Maria is annoying as hell and her love for cuteness is way too unreal to be true but I still love every second of it.

I think Mel may just have lost her spot as my favorite in this show. I love Maria’s personality, I love her song, I love her coord, I love EVERYTHING. I don’t even have anything else to say, just this. All I did through this whole episode was laugh and press the screenshot button non stop for 22 minutes straight.

There’s one thing that concerns me though. I hope they don’t make Maria just a flat character that all she has going for her is her love out of this world for cute things. I don’t need a serious character development or anything, I just want her to be more than just “the cute girl” and I hope they can deliver this.

Not a lot to say about Episode 54. I’m glad they’re already making “normal Daia” a part of the group so later on it’ll be more natural to have her join the gang. Also very nice that they at least acknowledge the similarities between the two Daias, is a much better way of dealing with it than what they’ve done last year with Anju and her sparkling lady persona.

Rinka recording their show in the pact is just the weirdest thing EVER, bring pricast back please.

Jewel Chance was weirdly short for some reason, Kiratto Chance seemed to last longer last season. Not that I really care for it since this concept never appealed to me, but it was weird. But I guess in this season they’ll at least have a more meaningful purpose to it, kiratto chance last year seem to be there just because it was a mechanic in the game.

Side note: while Suzu is dancing on the streets they have an amazing song playing in the background and I hope it’s the instrumentals for her solo and if it is I CAN’T WAIT TO LISTEN TO BEST SONG OF THIS SHOW.

What do I have to say about Episode 55? I don’t really know, it was pretty boring to me. Like I said before I don’t care for Miracle Kiratts so the plot of them trying to make a video to call more costumers to Prism Stone didn’t caught my attention. The little bits of Meganee, Maria and Suzu, plus seeing SUPER CUTIE SUPER GIRL (the best song from Kiratts, including solos) were the only things I enjoyed on this episode.

We of course also have the problem of the protagonist getting the super special coord of the season SO EARLY ON. I’m not gonna repeat myself, yall know what I think about this, I’m just disappointed. Now we’ve only seen one priticket with Mirai which may mean she only has one piece of the coord and she will have to work to get the other two as well and this may save the whole situation, but for now I’m just rolling my eyes and asking why they do this kind of stuff.

Episode 56 was surprisingly good! I've gotta be honest but when I saw Emo would be in one of the main characters in this episode I thought it would be garbage as much as Maria would be in there too, but I was wrong. It was amazing, I wasn't expecting to be this good.

I don't really have a lot to say, but I'm glad they used Maria's love for cuteness for something good. Even though her dream of bringing world peace using cuteness seem unrealistic she is still doing good for the world by using her cuteness to change lives. She was very nice to that little girl and it made me feel all fuzzy inside. As annoying as Maria is she is a very good person, she is one of those people who makes you believe there's still hope for this, and this makes me like her even more.

PS.: What the hell is her family, they're so weird. Now I understand how she's so crazy, who wouldn't be if they were raised by this family? XD

PS.2: If anyone did a drinking game taking a shot every time Maria says "Kawaii" this person would be in alcoholic coma by now and I'm sorry for you. XD

57 is our first episode focused on Suzu. AND WHAT A GREAT EPISODE IT WAS. There's not a single thing I dislike in this episode.

Getting to know more of Suzu was great, and I loved to watch as she started to grow fond of Maria even though she annoys her to death. They form such a great duo, it was great to see more of them together. I believe this is the first time we see them interact in a more complex way than just Maria following Suzu like crazy, and they did a great job at it. I like how natural it was, Suzu didn't just started liking Maria from nowhere, we had a build up and it was something gradual. It feels rewarding to see that they're closer, and if I already liked them before I feel like I'm even more in love with them now. I confess I would've like it more if we got to see Suzu perform, they teased with that same instrumental again and I'm just like AAAAAAA I NEED THIS SONG. I know Suzu's song hasn't been added to the game yet, but prichan releases song before they're in the game so I think they still could do it. But I'm happy with Maria's song anyway so, is all good.

I don't know how I feel about episode 58. I think I would have more strong feelings about it if Rinka was a character that I like, but as I said I don't really care for the protagonist trio and Rinka is probably the most bland of them in most of the situations so I don't really care for her.

The whole situation that makes this episode happen is good, Meganee is so stressed out by Dreamy Crown that she's breaking and she needs to rest. But then when it comes to Rinka and Yuzuru taking over thinks just get boring. I admit that huge part of this may be because I never liked Yuzuru and seeing more of him just makes me roll my eyes, but still as much as this episode tried it just didn't hit me.

The other big event on this episode was Rinka's new song and i'm a little disappointed. First because they give the most generic coord they could for her to wear, second because the stage is basically just a copy & paste from Netemo Sametemo Dreamin' Girl, and last because the song is just bland. It starts great like a callback from Rinka's solo from last season but then it comes the chorus and just kills the vibe. Also I don't think Rinka should've got Jewel Chance that time, she hasn't done anything exceptional on the episode to get it imo. But I like her dress design better than Mirai's so maybe that's a positive side.

And that’s it for the first few episode from Prichan Season 2! All in all I’ve enjoyed them, it was a great start and I’m sincerely excited to see what will comes up next!

Thanks for your time and till the next time~da-mon ♪

#Kiratto Prichan #Prichan S2 #prichan #prism series

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the-innocent-papyrus · 7 years

Text

ENTRY NUMBER 4.4

((Lazy and Orion sit down to translate some of G’s old notes, and get briefly sidetracked by a displaced king complaining about his temporary accommodations.))

((Muses involved:

Orion, from here

Lazy, @sans-nyan))

lazy

[knockknock...... he's Here.]

Orion

*come on in, z.

lazy

[in he slides... he's brought a Pencil. and many papers from his own gaster. actually, he has a lot of pencils.] hey, 'rion. i wasn't sure what all to bring, so... i figured it was better to be safe than sorry. i'm a little rusty on this, so...

Orion

*it's cool.

[Orion is sitting on his bed, surrounded by a pile of papers. There doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to the arrangement at first glance. Upon closer inspection... yeah there really isn't much of an organizational system apart from maybe original notes on this side, translations on that side.]

lazy

[HE UNDERSTANDS. he approaches, studying the papers that are all about for a few seconds before he climbs up onto the bed, sitting on the edge of it.]

what've you got so far? i've mostly brought my own notes as some comparison stuff, just, y'know. make sure they write sort of similarly.

Orion

*well, mostly it's been stuff about the core so far. i mean, makes sense. was kinda his life's work and whatnot.

lazy

yeah, that's fair. hm.

[he interlaces his fingers together.]

didn't ever think to look at those papers. i just figured since it was finished and all... well...

[in he leans to try to read it anyway.]

Orion

*yeah, i'm just sort of. going through everything, since i don't know what's like... important and what's not.

[The notes that have been translated are, indeed, various things about the Core. Theories, plans, random ramblings. There's a couple of random notes about silly things Roan has apparently done.]

lazy

yeah... that's fair.

[oh... his heart. he glances down at his phone, making a nervous face, before tucking it away again, pulling out his substitution code translation. that'd always made everything easier once he'd got it figured out. it was just always working out what had actually been written sometimes. he passes over his translated cipher.]

i don't know if this will help or not, but...?

Orion

*i mean, i've got it more or less memorized but. once the headache really sets in it'll probably be helpful.

[He clears away some of the papers to make room for Lazy.]

lazy

[little sympathetic 'mmmm'. he curls up a little on the bed, propping himself up by the elbows, one hand on his cheek and the other holding a pencil. he reaches for one paper, pulling an average sized notebook out of his inventory. he's ready to translate.]

...are you doing okay? i just, i dunno. figure i should ask.

Orion

[Orion sighs and rubs his head.]

*about as ok as i can be, considering. there's some large version of the kid hanging out downstairs, bro's off hanging with his boyfriend, and i've decided now's a great time to be giving myself a headache.

lazy

...

[little worried look. he leans in to give a gentle headbunt.]

i'll stay with you tonight, like. you know like, even after. this sounds weird. just uh.

[HE CLEARS HIS THROAT!!!]

i'm, sorry. i'm, doing a, bad job at, translating.

[HE'S GONNA. WORK ON THAT...]

Orion

[Orion leans into the headbutt a little.]

*thanks, bro. sorry if i'm a little. scatterbrained.

[He grabs a piece of paper for himself.]

[The one Lazy has is apparently the first thing that's not (solely) about the Core. There's a few token notes on the Core, along the lines of "wouldn't it be cool if there were this type of puzzle room in it". Most of this page seems focused on musings about the nature of souls, and the various "traits" that make them up.]

lazy

no, it's okay.

[he ignores his phone buzz for a little bit as he reads through the notes with some interest; mostly about the traits.]

i've done some writing and have some of gaster's notes on this....

[he's quickly scribbling down a translation for the page in his notebook, before pulling out his phone.]

...crazed cannibals?

Orion

[Orion glances up from his page and gives Lazy a weird look.]

*crazed... what? what is going on?

lazy

uhhh, zax is talking in my group chat, and says that he's in a house with two crazed cannibals.

Orion

*what

lazy

LOOK!!

[HE SHOWS ORION THE CHAT.]

Orion

*...those aren't the bones of the deceased, bucko. we summoned those things.

lazy

i-i think he's calling roan's cooking shit...

Orion

*well. he's not wrong, technically...

lazy

yeah but he's saying that we put in the remains of the deceased in the food... [HES KIND OF LAUGHING IN DISBELIEF???]

Orion

*the day my bro starts cooking with dust is the day i... i'm not sure where i was going with that sentence, actually.

lazy

also dust?

Orion

*yeah, probably.

lazy

except i think i'd dust if i actually ate the pasta.

i'm joking.

i don't mean any offense. but.(edited)

Orion

*bro's cooking sucks.

*or at least his pasta sucks.

lazy

okay. at least we agree.

i can't believe we're crazed cannibals.

Orion

*seriously.

*i mean, it's news to me.

lazy

...well, guess he knocked out.

Orion

*guess that's good, at least.

lazy

[...little sigh.]

...guess it's back to this. i kinda have some info similar to what's on this page... i don't know if i had much that was detailed. like this, i mean.

Orion

*well, it's worth a shot.

lazy

this is soul aspects and stuff. i think... i never got many details, but i know my gaster did a lot of experiments before i was even born. i might have to go digging for the papers again.

[...little nervous look.]

sorry for rambling. i'm just a little, chatty, i guess.

Orion

*no, it's fine. i'm just... probably not much of a conversationalist right now.

[He flops down, raising himself on his elbows and clearing a little space for himself.]

*show me what you've got.

lazy

it's okay.

[he slides over the translated version...]

there's some stuff about the CORE, but it's a lot more stuff about souls. we've got about like, seven confirmed soul aspects. i always kind of assumed there's more, like... this probably can't cover all the types. but seven's a nice number. a real good power number.

Orion

*yeah, seven seems to be a really popular one, heh heh.

[He glances over the notes.]

lazy

and it's not covered on the notes, but i know if you take extracts from the souls-- and, i mean, this might be different from timeline to timeline, but...

[he's jotting stuff down on another paper.]

you can extract the primary personality components of a soul and inject it? and it'll affect people. i think i told-- yeah, i told you about dt. an example, uh... like, my boyfriend, bones... i'm still mad about this, but. he got injected with the aspect of kindness, and-- it wasn't a permanent change, thank the gods, but. it made him care more about others than himself. i mean, he already had that problem anway.

[little laugh.]

i know my soul aspect as a human ended up being determination, but i'm honestly kind of suspecting there's some self-destructive crap in there.

Orion

[Orion listens. He lets out a thoughtful hum and starts going through the papers next to him. He pulls out one page of notes and glances over it.]

*...i think... that's one of the things my bro was toying with. i mean. here, look at this.

[The page is untranslated, and very disorganized. It's like the writer was just jotting down notes on any available corner of the paper as the ideas occurred to him. But the general jist is just as Orion said: G was apparently musing about the possibility of being able to inject or "transfer" traits from one person to another. Of course, the only problem according to this page of notes is extracting them in the first place...]

lazy

[zoinks scoob.]

yeah... 'cause, the whole, you could accidentally absorb the soul. my gast made containers to put them in, and you'd extract it remotely. we also used the soul of the first child to keep... a lot of things in the underground powered. kind of related to the CORE, i think. if you don't absorb the soul or destroy it, it can... sort of regenerate itself, i think.

Orion

*huh... you guys still had access to the first child's soul? i'm not sure what happened to ours.

lazy

yeah, i think, or if it isn't theirs, it's... from the war, maybe. i don't know for sure.

[he doesn't have the heart to explain what happened to the first child, or to asriel.]

Orion

[Orion shall just have to remain in blissful ignorance. He has some idea since he's heard the stories, but...]

*right, yeah. though... the idea of keeping a soul around to use as a power source seems a little... morbid, to be honest?

lazy

[little weird grimace...]

yeah. it... yeah. i just... try to not think about it too hard.

Orion

[Orion nods with a grimace of his own.]

*can't say i blame you.

lazy

we don't really know how to... dispose of the souls without absorbing them. and we still don't really want the humans topside to know what uh... happened.

Orion

*oh. that's. yeah, i can't imagine that would go over well.

*...man. if we ever make it to the surface, i. don't think anyone's gonna be too keen to explain how we got there.

lazy

nnnnope. i'm dreading when it comes to light. i mean... the humans are going to find out about it sooner or later.

it probably won't even matter that we've been underground for... literally over a thousand years.

Orion

*haha, yeah...

[Orion slumps forward a little, glancing down at the papers around him. He lets out a sigh.]

*...i remember having an argument with g at one point. g wanted to come up with a way to break the barrier. i asked him what the point would even be.

*we've been stuck here for so long that the people actively working on the problem now... well, at the time we hadn't seen real sunlight.

lazy

...

[...he goes to lean against orion.]

...yeah. ...i'm sorry.

Orion

[Orion leans against Lazy in turn. He rubs his head.]

*thanks. it's. yeah.

*...i miss my brother.

lazy

...i don't blame you. [little nuzzle... he doesn't know what to say but he knows that feel!!!]

Orion

[Orion returns the nuzzle.]

*thanks. ...but, hey. we've. got work to do, heh.

[Starts flipping through papers, trying to distract himself. Among the pages he flips through is a page with a very familiar image. It looks a lot like a preliminary sketch for the DT Extractor...]

#!sans talks to people #!entry number XX #!off tumblr rp logs #!long post #(( >:3c ))

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