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trippinsorrows · 4 months

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with me + part two

authors note: well, holy shit, the response to this has been so unexpected yet insanely appreciated and humbling! the kind words of support and interest really have been so wonderful to receive. thank you thank you thank you!

this ended up much longer than i intended, but i couldn't find a "good" place to break it in half, so i apologize for the length.

i also feel like this is a bit on the boring but necessary side in terms of setting the scene and backdrop for what's to come....

i also feel like this is gonna def be more than 4 parts, so sorry!!!!

warnings: language, slight sexy time, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

words: 7.5k

tag gang: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @tshepisho @lizzycaraballo-blog @xiamentshoneypot

“I need a break.” He slid out of you, the absence of his thick dick noticeable and borderline uncomfortable. Despite the fact that your voice was hoarse, limbs jello, and pussy tender as all outdoors, you still wanted him. Wanted to feel him inside you. But you knew you also needed some amount of time for your body recoup for the next round, so you made logic overpowered lust.

He made a sound, lying on his back, eyes on the ceiling. “So fucking needy for this dick.”

“Shut up.” It was intentionally not a denial, because he wasn’t entirely wrong. It’d been a shitty past couple weeks, what with parent teacher conferences, your least favorite time of the year. There were only so many different ways you could try to gently explain to parents that their child wasn’t the next Cornel West and actually could benefit from “additional evaluations.” But that almost always went over their heads as they attempted to tell you, the professional, the real reason why their child wasn’t doing well.

You were just over all of it and damn near at your wits end when you got the text from Joe that he’d be in town this weekend. That goofy ‘i’m about to get some good dick’ smile was damn near stamped on your face in the days preceding his arrival. You needed an outlet, and wearing yourself out on his dick until you were physically incapacitated happened to be the perfect one, the best one.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have options, you did, but they were subpar. And that was the problem with having a chance to experience superior dick, everything else that followed was mid. No one had ever fucked you like Joe. No man before him had ever made you come from just penetration. You always needed more. Had to sometimes physically instruct them on what you needed. Not with him. He gave you more—-the man could and had stayed with his face buried between your legs for hours on end—-but it wasn’t necessary. He could fuck you to a toe curling, light blinding climax with just a few good, deep strokes.

And yes, you still struggled with the guilt of fucking someone else’s man, but in times like this, where you were beyond stressed the fuck out, all you could think about was getting off and decreasing that stress. The guilt session could come later.

“What’s wrong?” He asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. You could both be around each other and not say a word without an ounce of discomfort. It was nice.

“Parents suck.” You answer, bluntly, afterwards realizing how vague that is. “I’ve had parent teacher conferences the past couple weeks, and they’ve been getting on my nerves trying to tell me how to do my job.”

“That sounds annoying.”

“Beyond, and makes me feel like they’re insinuating I don’t know what I’m talking about. I do. They just don’t want to hear it.” They prepared you in school, to some extent, to expect those select parents that weren’t the easiest to work with but to always stand behind your professional judgment regardless if one agreed or not. And for the most part, your parents in the years since you’d been teaching were relatively chill. It just seemed that this time of the year is when all of them decided to be in their difficult era.

One hand behind his head, Joe looks over at you. “Then that’s on them.” He shrugs. “You can’t make them hear what they don’t want to hear.”

Groaning loudly, you turn on your side, propping your own head up with your hand. “I know. It just sucks for the kids. There’s a couple who might be on the spectrum or have ADHD, but I can’t outright say it, so all I can do is strongly imply. And trust me, my implications are clear as fucking day. It’s just annoying when I have to work harder than I should to get people to be their kids' advocate, not their adversary.”

He’s quiet for a second and then asks. “What’s the best part of your job?”

The answer doesn’t even require contemplation. “My students. Hands down. I love kids. I love helping them learn and seeing the excitement on their face when they finally grasp a concept I’m teaching. It’s super rewarding.”

His gaze lingers on you, “Then focus on that. You do this because it’s a passion and a love and you’re clearly good at it.”

His words marinate over you, reminiscent of past conversations where you’re the one feeding positivity into him, reminding him to not lose focus of what’s most important and why he does what he does. The roles being reversed is different but nice. It’s nice to have him to talk to, it’s always easy to do so.

You move your hand to his chest and slowly walk your fingers downward. “Good dick and good advice. This trip is a double win for me.”

His jaw clenches when you begin to stroke him, sinfully and intentionally slowly. A smirk forms on your face. He’s just as needy for you as you are for him.

Joe’s voice is hoarse with desire. “You ready for the next round?”

“Yes.” You’re not sure if physically, you’re well enough, but that’s what epsom salt baths are for. And Motrin. You need him. Climbing on top, you grab his hardened length and align it at your entrance, dew coating the tip and serving as natural lubricant. “But I want to be on top this time.”

________

“Mommy!”

You’re startled awake by the loud voice, jumping body, and smiling face of your personal alarm clock. The only alarm clock you’ve ever had that you can’t dictate the time it goes off. It takes a second for you to settle yourself, to push away the inappropriate afterthoughts of such a salacious dream—one you’re slightly disappointed couldn’t play out longer—to focus on the little human in front of you.

The shining sun beaming down on you from the curtains you’re certain she opened assists in doing just that. You rub at your eyes, a small, warm smile growing. “Good morning, Callie Bear.”

Her eyes, big, brown, and always full of curiosity are focused on you as she stops jumping and lands on her knees. “You’re up!”

You chuckle, how can you not be up with a rambunctious four year old jumping on your bed and screaming for you to wake up? ”I’m up.”

“Yay!” She cheers, tiny fists raised up and victory. “Can we have pancakes?”

“I don’t know.” You pretend to contemplate her request, index finger against your bottom lip. “Can we?”

She pouts, and you bite on your lip to suppress your laughter. Her arms cross over her tiny chest, bonnet covered head tilting to the side. “May we have pancakes?”

Sometimes, you feel bad for your daughter, having a teacher for a mother. You’re always going to be on her about anything academic related, especially English. “We certainly can.” Yawning, you sit up in bed and scratch your scalp through your bonnet. “But first, hygiene.”

Swooping her into your arms, you’re met with a chorus of giggles as you tickle her stomach with your index finger. Walking into the bathroom, you sit her on the counter and reach her her toothbrush, putting on her (Halle Bailey) Little Mermaid themed toothpaste before letting her do her thing as you do hers.

This is the first time in a while that you’re grateful for your daughter waking you up so early on a weekend. Those dreams….you’d be lying if you said they didn’t happen more than you’d like to admit. You’d tried to figure out what triggered them but have yet to be successful.

The simplest answer would be that you miss him. You miss Joe, but that’s also the answer you refuse to admit. You can’t miss him. Don’t have the right to miss someone else’s man, someone else’s husband.

All you can do is be appreciative that one of the biggest regrets in your life brought you your biggest blessing.

Calista, Callie, to almost everyone she knows, was a complete and utter surprise.

It was time for your women’s wellness exam, and in the set of questions they asked you, one was of course the date of your last menstrual cycle. Being stumped for a second was normal, hence why you used your beloved Flo app to track your cycle. But, it’s when you opened the app and realized you hadn’t logged a period in two months, you knew.

Didn’t need a blood test to tell you the obvious.

You were most definitely pregnant.

You’d used Flo consistently since you were 14 years old, there was no way in hell you’d forgotten for two whole months to input the period dates.

So, after crying and damn near having a panic attack, your doctor provided you with pamphlets. Options, as they were called. You wouldn’t review them until a couple days later, needing that time to process that you were actually pregnant. Pregnant by a married man that you’d ended things with, ironically, on the night your daughter was conceived.

What in the actual fuck were you supposed to do? Send him a text and say ‘nvm. Congrats, we’re expecting. Are you gonna tell your wife or should I?’ To this day, you’re convinced that the nasty wave of ‘morning sickness’ you experienced the first few weeks of finding out you were with child was actually just your absolute disgust that you’d allowed another woman’s husband to impregnate you.

It was like you were walking in the same footsteps your mother molded for you. Something you swore you’d die before letting happen.

What’s that saying? We make plans, and God laughs. Well, he must be having a field day with you.

It was actually in confiding in Mariah, your best friend since kindergarten, that you were able to look past your shame and panic to see this for what it is.

“You want to have kids, don’t you?” She asked in an obvious tone, picking through the big bowl of popcorn you two shared while Insecure played at a low volume on your TV. “Well, here’s the kid.”

“I wanted to have kids with a husband, Mariah.”

“Well—“

“Shut up.” You tossed a few pieces of popcorn in her direction. This was not the time for her occasional joke. You were too busy having a mental breakdown.

“Does it really matter how the baby got here? Aren’t you the one always saying kids are a blessing? Why are you trying to block yours?” It’s a fair, valid point that you’re too stubborn to want to hear, even if it’s what you needed to hear. “I’m just saying if you’ve been blessed with being a mom, something you’ve always wanted. Seems kinda silly we’re having this discussion instead of baby names, baby showers, and gender reveals.”

“I’m not doing a gender reveal.” That much you are absolutely sure of. Never. But, Mariah’s words do resonate with you. Why were you so caught up on how you got pregnant? Yeah, it was fucked up, but dwelling on it did nothing but make you feel worse. You always imagined this would be a happy occasion, couldn’t you find it in you to be happy? Regardless of the father and that whole Tubi of a situation.

There was a life growing inside of you, no matter the dynamics of the creation, the child had done nothing wrong, didn’t deserve to be blamed. And the truth was you weren’t really that upset, you were more happy than anything, if you really allowed yourself to feel without reservation. Borderline excited, even. Maybe even at the fact that you would always have a small piece of him with you in a really big way.

Even if he wouldn’t be a part of that experience.

And it was then that you decided. You didn’t care what anyone thought, couldn’t think about how your mother, who was completely unaware about your relationship with Joe for the entire three years, would react. You’d figure out the rest of this later because you were having this baby, but you were having this baby by yourself. Joe couldn’t know.

He wouldn’t know.

And almost five years later, nothing has changed. Yes, you absolutely couldn’t see yourself making it through your pregnancy and even the first few weeks postpartum without the help of your mom and Mariah. But, for the most part, you did everything you could by yourself for your daughter, wanting her to see the strength and perseverance of a strong, single mother.

She finishes brushing before you and spits out the remnant toothpaste in her mouth. “Are we gonna see grandma today?”

You finish a few seconds after, spitting and wiping your mouth before answering. “We certainly are.”

“Yay!” She celebrates as you bring the towel to her face, giving it a gentle cleanse before tossing it into the hamper. Callie wastes no time in removing her bonnet and giving her curls a good shake. The two of you share a laugh as you follow suit.

“Pancake time?”

Separating some of her coils, you answer with a wink. “Let mommy wash her face, and I’ll be right out, kiddo.”

“Okay.” Nodding, she jumps off the counter and hurries into the kitchen knowing good and well what’s about to come out of your mouth.

“Sis, what have I told you about jumping off this damn counter?” All you hear is giggling in the wake of her dash. This child has daredevil tendencies that bring out a certain, uncomfortable level of anxiety. Medical bills weren’t in the budget, so you needed her to calm the hell down.

She probably gets it from–

Shaking your head from unnecessary thoughts, you quickly work your way through your routine and eventually meet her in the kitchen to find her on her tablet, probably trying to figure out what movie to put on while you two cook. On the weekends, you remove the passcode from her device but still maintain the time limits for her overall screen time.

You refuse to allow her to become an “ipad kid.”

“What’cha pick for us?” Moving through the kitchen, you pull out the necessary items and place them on the small island.

Climbing onto the barstool, she flips the screen with a proud smile. “Moana!”

Gasping with faux surprise, you ask, “again?”

Much like her mother who was like her mother, an affinity and passion for all things Disney is another thing your child inherited. She could watch Disney movies for the rest of life and never get bored. And Moana was at the top of that list, the new Little Mermaid was a close favorite, but Moana resonated deeply with Callie for reasons you still don’t fully understand.

Well, she is half Pacific Islan—

Clearing your throat, you and Callie get to work on breakfast, both singing along and dancing to the catchy Disney music. It’s a sweet bonding moment between the two of you, a bit of a tradition on the weekends. You’re not much of a cook, at all, but breakfast food is relatively simple. And thankfully, your child is not as picky as some other kids. A stack of pancakes with sausage is always enough to satisfy her.

It’s when you’re both sitting in the living room, on the floor, legs crossed while you eat the delicious breakfast that you’d prepared together that a thought crosses your mind.

A distraction could be beneficial, the dream from earlier still floating around in the back of your head. And not even the dream in as much as the main event from the theme.

You needed some dick. It’d been too long, that itch needing a scratch to give you some much needed reset.

So, it’s when Callie is focused on the scene in Moana when Maui’s hook is broken that you grab your phone and shoot off a text.

You free today?

Not even five minutes later, your phone buzzes with a response.

Just tell me when and where.

________

Walking through the doors of your mother’s hair salon is always an experience, nostalgic almost, to all the times you and your friends would hang out there with the hopes that you could get free or discounted services. Usually free for you, not so much for your friends.

Business was still business.

The familiar smell of hair oils, deep conditioner, and the overall sound of flat irons sizzling through hair brings a warm smile to your face. It’s things like this, this place even, that remind you why you decided to come home after college.

Home, where the closest major stores like Target and Walmart, and even the airport, are nearly half an hour away. Where you have only one elementary school, one middle school, and one high school. Where many of the streets are two laned and littered with storefronts, like your mom’s salon. Hell, the freaking bank, post office, and city hall are in the same building.

Everyone knows everyone, and for the most part, everyone looks out for each other.

It isn’t for everybody, this almost Hallmark movie type setup. You know this. Hence why many leave for school and never or seldom return. But, for you, it’s home.

It’s also the perfect place to discreetly and raise the daughter of a celebrity.

“Grandma!”

Your mom is in the middle of a conversation with a patron but almost immediately redirects her attention to the equally familiar voice of Calista. “There’s my grandbaby!” Callie runs into your mom’s arms and is peppered with kisses all over. “Looking more and more like your mama every day.”

That genuinely makes you smile. You tend to think she favors Joe more than yourself, usually when she’s making certain facial expressions. She has a lot of his mannerisms, which you are grateful for, happy that she has characteristics from both sides. But any and all of the good things she can take from you, you want her to have.

Callie’s smile is bright and infectious, as always. “That’s cause mommy’s my mommy!”

You laugh, approaching them and leaning in for your mom’s one armed hug as she has Callie in her other arm. “Hey, mama.”

“Hey, baby.”

Your relationship with your mom has definitely been up and down over the years, which you’d like to think is the standard for most mother-daughters. It’s something that’s arguably strengthened over time, especially post Callie. You’d gained so much more appreciation for your mother raising you on her own as a single parent. There was always appreciation, but infinitely more now as you were also in the same position.

“I was hoping she could hang out with you for a little bit today. I have some business to take care of. If that’s okay?”

Your mother gives you the look, the look that indicates she knows there’s more to what you’re saying but she won’t push out of respect for your privacy. And you’re grateful for that. You don’t necessarily want to explain that you need her to keep an eye out on Callie while you attend your dick appointment.

Sucking her teeth, she starts walking to the back where her office is located. “When have I ever had an issue spending time with my only grandchild?” She has you there. Your mom would take Callie every day if you let her, and you’re so thankful for that. Not even for the tremendous assistance your mom provides but for the close relationship she has with Callie, similar to how close you were with your grandma. “Want me to do her wash day for her while she’s here?”

At that, Callie’s eyes go wide as she starts to whine, “noooo. I don’t want to.”

You chuckle. “That’s how mommy feels too, babes.” You dreaded her wash day as much as you dreaded your own. The women in your family were blessed with long, thick, healthy curls that Callie clearly inherited from you but also her father’s side cause the girl had some hair. “If you don’t mind, mama.”

She waves off your unnecessary added comment and starts to assess the state of Callie’s hair, murmuring comments to herself.

You lean down in front of Callie and move your hand to her knee. “You sure you’re gonna be okay, sweetie?”

She nods and asks, “can we get ice cream when you come back?”

“We surely can.” You don’t allow her to have a lot of sweets—she already has enough energy as it is—but every so often, you two get the homemade ice cream cones at the local parlor. Sometimes you’ll sit outside and just talk, sharing laughs and inside jokes over the best ice cream anyone could ever have. And considering she’s about to endure a wash day, she deserves it. “I love you, Callie Bear.”

Putting her tablet on her lap, she leans over and hugs you tight. For such a tiny human, she always gives the best, most loving hugs. “I love you too, mama.”

Callie goes back to her tablet, and you issue your mom one more statement of appreciation before heading out so you can have your urge squashed and get back in time to have dessert with your little girl.

On the car ride there, you send up a quick prayer that this time will be different, that you can get what you need and be gone without being asked to stay. It’s always the same answer, so maybe the last one finally stuck to where he won’t hope.

Won’t get his own feelings hurt.

________

“You know you don’t always have to leave right away.”

Of course.....of course.

You’re in the midst of hooking your bra back on when he hits you with the offer you were stupidly hoping he’d pass on this time around.

Bold of you to assume you could come get some dick without this man trying to turn it into a cuddle session.

Your smile is tight as you politely decline. “I don’t want to leave Callie at the salon too long. You never know what she’s hearing.”

It’s a weak excuse, hence him poking a hole right through it. “You know your mom would shut that down right away. Get back in the bed.”

“Really, Amir, I can’t stay.” Once your bra is on, you reach on the ground for your panties, sliding them back on as well. The sooner you get yourself decent, the sooner you can dip.

“Can’t or won’t?”

And here it goes. Sometimes, you wonder why you continue to put yourself in this situation. Amir’s stroke game is nice, but is it really worth this constant routine? You two fuck, he tries to make it more, an argument, silence on both ends for a little while until one of you needs that urge handled. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It’s been roughly the same since you were in high school.

Amir was your first damn near everything: first crush, first boyfriend, first kiss, first time. It was a textbook small town romance. He was the quarterback, and you were the cheerleading captain. Everyone said you were perfect together and predicted at one point you’d get married after college. Truthfully, you once thought the same. But outside of aesthetics, your relationship was always rocky, borderline toxic.

He had poor boundaries with other girls but never saw an issue because it never went beyond flirting. And because you were young, dumb, and just as toxic sometimes, you’d intentionally flirt with other guys to piss him off, knowing it was wrong to drag innocents into your Bobby and Whitney of a relationship but more interested in making him see your side of it..

Still, young and dumb. Not an excuse, but definitely a reason.

Even as you both went off to college, each attending separate schools, you’d occasionally hookup during the winter breaks. More often during the summer. He was your constant, preferred over allowing random dick into you, especially as he was most familiar and you knew he was clean. The devil you know type of thing.

Post college was when you really ended it, deciding that it was time to put the childish things behind you, time to put him behind you.

And you’d done relatively well for a while, the two of you becoming damn near strangers. Especially when Joe came into the picture. Amir was good in bed, but Joe was heavenly. Just the thought of anyone other than him fucking you at that time was repulsing.

But, Joe is gone, has been, so now you’re stuck returning to the same nigga you just can’t seem to get rid of because he has a decent sized dick he, mostly, knows how to use.

And your rose can only go so far.

“Fine. Won’t. Don’t. Not interested.” Standing up, you shoot him a look of challenge, of defiance. “Better?”

Your words understandably tick him off as he cruelly asks, “How long are you gonna let yourself be stuck on him? That nigga abandoned you and his kid, what is there to even be stuck on?”

Regardless of what happened between you and Joe, mostly with how it played out, you refuse to allow anyone to speak badly of him. Specifically when it pertains to his absence in your and Callie’s lives, especially since that was 100% your call. Only a select few know the full story, therefore the majority have no right to speak on it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so please just shut the fuck up.”

“Where is he then, huh? It’s been almost 5 years, Y/N. You need to move the fuck on. He’s your past.” Moving out of the bed, he comes up to you and places one hand to your face. You fight the desire to pull away. His touch is suddenly uncomfortable, feels wrong and noisome. “It’s time to focus on your future.”

Not that you’d ever admit it to Amir, but there’s a hint of truth to his voice. Eventually, random hookups to fulfill your sexual needs will become insufficient. Hell, even now, you still desire to be married, to give Callie that 'traditional' family. The problem is mostly lack of options, even if Amir seems convinced you two should give it another try.

When hell freezes over.

Your voice is even and to the point as you finish dressing and pull out your key fob. “Like I said, thanks for the scratch, but that’s all this is.” Without giving him time to talk more shit, you head out the door without another fucking word.

________

“Oh shit, is that ole girl Randy used to mess with?” Joe is only halfheartedly listening to what his cousin is saying, mostly focused on the work email he’s reading on his phone. It’s far and few in between they actually have time off, let alone enough time to go home and be among the rest of family. He’s trying to enjoy it and is enjoying it, but work is always on his mind, hence his inability to ignore the email notification that slid in mid-group conversation. “What was her name?”

“It started with an M, didn’t it?” Jey suggests. “Mariah, I think.”

It's when the correct name is stated that Joe’s attention is briefly redirected. Mariah was your friend, the reason he was ever introduced to you. It’s a name he hasn’t heard in years. If only that was the same amount of time it’s been since he thought of you. No, instead, you’ve taken up real estate in his mind more than he’d ever like to admit or acknowledge.

“Wait, isn’t that—-” Jimmy is silenced, and out of the corner of Joe’s eye, he can see it’s because Jey gave him a look. That look you give someone when you want them to shut up.

Now…now they have his attention.

“What?” It’s when the twins share a look with each other, Jey shaking his head that Joe puts his phone to the side as Jimmy hits the lock button on his phone. “Let me see.”

“Look, Uce—”

“I said, let me see.” One thing Joe can’t stand more than anything is when people beat around the bush or try to hide things from him. He prefers people to be upfront and honest, damn whatever feelings come up. The truth is always better, in his mind.

And yet……

Shaking his head, Jimmy blows out a breath and hands his cousin the phone.

Joe looks down and instantly regrets ever pushing the matter.

Five years.

It’s been almost five fucking years since he’s seen that beautiful smile, those deep dimples that were one of the first things he noticed about you, outside of your breathtaking beauty. You looked almost exactly the same, maybe a bit heavier, still in all of the right places. Hair a little longer but still the same deep onyx with streaks of purple. You’re smiling and posing with Mariah who also hasn’t changed much outside of a new hair color and the huge baby bump she’s sporting. A baby shower, he’d guess.

But outside the shock of seeing you, Joe’s attention is also on the third person in the photo. A child, young in age, no more than 4 or 5, black, curly hair styled in two space-buns and a deep dimpled smile that’s almost identical to yours. Her eyes are a beautiful light brown shade, a contrast to your chocolate colored eyes.

But similar to….similiar to his.

Brows furrowed, Joe is surprised to see you’re tagged in the photo, so he goes to your profile and is even more shocked to find it public. You were always such a private person, but he chalks it up to the fact that the only people who’d really know how to find it would have to be those close to you.

You don’t have a ton of pictures, but he clicks on the first one that has a set of photos of you and the same little girl from the baby shower. It’s dated almost six months ago, so not the newest but better than nothing. The post is a slideshow, so he begins to scroll through the photos, each of them with you and that same child, clearly at various points in her life. The last one stops him for a moment, a photo of you, crying, in a hospital bed holding a newborn baby.

Swallowing back his emotions, Joe redirects his gaze to the caption:

my calista, my callie, my baby girl. God used one of the hardest periods of my life to bless me with the best gift anyone can receive. every day with you is an adventure. from your incessant questions about the most random of things, constant requests for disney movie marathons, to the way you refuse to part from me without giving the biggest hug and kiss goodbye while yelling ‘i love you, mommy!’. callie, you are my whole heart, and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, sweet girl. here’s to year 4 and many many more of having the biggest honor and privilege ever of being your mama bear.

So many things are going through his head right now.

You had a child.

You have a child.

Based upon the date of the post, you have a child who will be five years old in a couple of months.

A child who has your smile, but his eyes, his nose, and a complexion that looks the perfect combination of the two of you. She looks like the perfect combination of the two of you.

It’s hard to not jump to the obviously glaring conclusion that all of this brings, and still, he tries to not allow his head to go there. You would….you would never do that. You would never keep his child from him, no matter how things ended between the two of you. There was wrongness to that that reached low levels of depravity, and he just couldn’t conjoin that kind of deception with who he always knew you to be.

You were a woman who believed and tried to live by her morals. It was the reason you eventually cut him out of your life. Nothing about not telling him he has a child is moral.

He wordlessly hands the phone back to Jimmy and goes back to reading the email, acting like nothing just happened and he doesn't have a million and one thoughts running through the back of his mind.

It’s after he walks away, giving off an excuse that he needs to call Hunter to discuss a proposed promo that the conversation commences.

“So, we all just gon act like that lil' girl don’t look like Uce? She even got his eyes, man,” Jimmy, being Jimmy, is the first to say it aloud, the only one to actually verbalize what the others are thinking.

“Jimmy,” Naomi chides but can’t help adding. “Do you really think that could be his kid?”

Jey decides to join in on the conversation. “It’s possible. They messed around for years.”

“But would she really do that? Have his baby and not even tell him about her?” Naomi only met you a handful of times, but all of the interactions were pleasant, and she secretly thought you and Joe would have made a cute couple if the stars were aligned differently. “She had to have told him.”

Jimmy gestures to the sliding door Joe walked through minutes earlier. “Does that look like he knew?”

“This is all just speculation.” Joseph decides to join the conversation, always the one who prefers to listen to all sides before adding his two cents. “Similiar facial features don’t mean they’re related.”

“No, but add in the timeline plus the way it ended, and you can’t help but lean one way.”

“What did happen between them?” Somewhat newer to this circle, Joseph realizes that’s a topic he’s never really heard much about. He knows his cousin basically has an open marriage and sleeps around, but he’s always heard whispers there was a woman he was with for years.

“She just ended it one day.” Jey answers with a shrug. “Uce really ain't say much outside of that. It was sudden though.”

“But was it? Three years of waiting around for a guy to maybe or maybe not leave his wife for you?” Naomi serves as a counter, shaking her head and leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand. “Sounds like more than enough time to me.”

“It wasn’t nothing like that though. They was just messing around,” Jimmy defends.

“He cut off every other woman he was messing with when they were together.” Jey distinctly remembers how his cousin had one woman and only one woman on speed dial during that period, and it was you. It was always you. “I think it was more than just messing around.”

Joseph nods, taking in all this information. “So, if she is his, do you think she kept her a secret to get back at him for not divorcing Jadah?” It’s a bold question, but a valid one that Jey is the first to dispute.

“Naw, I’m with Naomi. Y/N wouldn’t do that.”

Jimmy shakes his head, starting to see how this is all looking to play out. “Well, if that is Joe’s daughter and that’s how he found out he has a child….this shit is about to get real ugly.”

________

Joe tried to tell himself it was just a wild coincidence. Reminded himself that you yourself said you wanted to get married, have kids. And you’d done that, had a kid. However, revisiting your Instagram pictures, in none of your posts did he see a man.

Or a wedding ring.

And just how fucking quickly could you have moved on? Doing the math, you would have had to have someone on speed dial to get pregnant as fast as you did. And that doesn’t line up with who he knew you to be. You were fucking him and only him.

You were with him and only him.

So that left him and only him.

And like a man hyperfixated on trying to solve a puzzle, he looks at every single post on your Instagram, starting from the year you met up until now. He focuses especially on the posts that include your daughter, not that many, but enough.

And when it’s all said and done, thoughts vs counterthoughts, logic vs emotion, Joe is 100% convinced that this is his child.

That he’s just now found out he’s a father through fucking Instagram.

And now he’s pissed because who the hell were you to keep his child from him? He didn’t give a fuck how you felt about him and his being married, that didn’t give you an excuse to hide a whole kid?

His kid.

________

“Ready for your bedtime story, Callie Bear?”

Reading with Callie has been a must since you found out you were pregnant. Your mom always told you how she read to you in the womb and to this day believes it’s why you always tested out so high with your reading abilities, even in the first grade. You’re not sure how accurate it is, having read some studies and whatnot, but you’ve followed suit, reading to Callie even when she was in your belly. Almost five years later, it’s now a tradition. She can’t go to sleep without a story.

She nods happily. You laugh and slide into the bed next to her. Naturally, she cuddles close to you, book already picked out and waiting on the bed. It’s one she’s heard a dozen times before but one of her favorites, so you read it just as theatrically, voice changes, and everything. Her giggles of happiness and merriment warm your heart. You love these one-on-one moments, wishing you could jar them and keep them stored away forever.

You’re a couple chapters in when she starts to yawn, eyes struggling to stay open, that you slide in the bookmark and promise to pick it up again tomorrow. You know Callie is ready to call it a night when she doesn’t protest.

But, it’s after placing the book on the shelf and going to tuck her into her covers that she hits you with a question that nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

“Mommy, why don’t I have a daddy?”

You’re not stupid, far from it. This question was bound to come up, sooner or later. For your own selfish sake though, you were hopeful for later, much much later.

She continues, almost nervous in tone. “Ms. Leah said you need a mommy and a daddy to make a baby, so where’s my daddy?”

Curious how the conversation of where babies came from came about, you make a mental note to discuss this with your daughter’s preschool teacher before working to answer her valid question. Truth be told, you have no idea how to answer it. But if anxiety was the dominant emotion before, sadness and devastation easily topple that at the next thing to come out of her mouth.

“Does he not love me?”

It’s not until that moment that you truly know what it feels like for your heart to shatter into absolute pieces.

“Oh, baby….” Crouching down beside her bed, you move your hand to her forehead, thumb gently caressing her soft skin. You’re so damn lost on how to handle this, what to say to take away her obvious pain, that you go with the soonest thing that hits the forefront of your brain. “Your daddy…..he….he wasn’t ready to be a daddy.”

It could be the truth, it could be a lie. You never gave yourself—or him—the chance to find out, and up until this point, you never saw an issue with that. But now….now you’re wondering just who you made that decision for.

And if it was the right one.

Callie’s frown deepens, the answer clearly not one that makes her feel any better. “What if I’m a really good girl? Will he be ready then?”

The shattered pieces are now dust, granulated dust that you struggle to hold together in trembling palms. You bring both hands to her face. “Calista, you listen to me. You are the kindest, sweetest, most amazing little girl in the whole wide world. You don’t need to do anything to be a good girl because you are already a good girl, the best girl.”

Her eyes glaze over as she sniffles and asks in a small voice. “So why doesn’t he want me?”

“Oh, sweetie…” You pull her into a hug, holding her close and tight, as if doing so will allow her to absorb all of the love and adoration you have for this tiny human who made your life have meaning. “I’m gonna talk to him, okay? I’ll….I’ll talk to him.” That’s all you can say, even if it’s not a guarantee, even if you have no idea where such an offer came from. And you hate yourself for doing that, for getting her hopes up over something that may not even happen. You haven’t spoken to Joe in almost five years, there’s no guarantee the number is even still the same.

Still, you know you have to at least try, especially when you pull back and see the renewed hope in her teary eyes, the eyes she shares with the father she’s clearly desperate to know about, to meet, to have.

You close your eyes and press your forehead against hers, speaking with all the love and affirmation in the world, “I love you, Calista. Always, baby.”

You’re relieved to hear her reply in a less saddened and more hopeful tone, “I love you too, mommy.”

It’s after you’re certain Callie is knocked out and you’ve exhausted every single step of your nighttime routine that you pace around your room, partially trying to avoid an action you know you need to take.

Especially when you find his number in your phone from an old text thread you could never find it in you to delete.

You go back and forth for nearly twenty minutes before deciding on a simple question.

is this still joe’s number?

You feel like a damn child, throwing the phone down on the bed and burying your face into your hands. This is so much more difficult than it needs to be, or maybe it isn’t. You made the executive decision to not make Joe aware of your pregnancy for a variety of reasons that felt solid at the time.

Now…now you don’t know any fucking thing anymore, it seems.

What you do know is that you nearly jump off the bed when your phone begins to ring. Frowning, you look at the time, wondering who in the hell could be calling you at damn near midnight.

But, it’s when you lift your phone to see the caller you know exactly why someone is calling you at damn near midnight.

Ignoring it is so tempting, but the image of Callie in tears wondering why she’s not loved or wanted is more than enough to trample your selfish desires. Sliding the green button upward, you place the phone against your ear, take a deep breath, and speak, “hi.”

He exhales, your name leaving his mouth for the first time in years. Hearing his voice, let alone hearing him say your name, creates a heaviness you weren’t expecting. Then again, you weren’t expecting to speak to him at all tonight.

Or ever, for that matter.

Communication is suddenly incredibly difficult as you struggle to string words together to create a cohesive statement. “I’m….I’m sorry for calling so late, but—”

“We need to talk.” While your tone is soft and nervous, his is serious and borderline stoic. It takes you for a bit of a loop, but you try not to put too much into it. The real focus should be why he interrupted you so harshly with such a bold statement. He’s not wrong, but why does he think you need to talk? “I’ll get a flight out tomorrow.”

That breaks you from your thoughts. A what? “wait—”

“You still at the same place?”

Swallowing, still very much confused, you answer, “yes, but—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

The phone goes silent on the other end, and you realize it’s because he’s ended the call. You must stare at that phone for a good five minutes in complete utter shock. Eventually, coming out of the catatonia, only one thought circulates around your mind.

What in the actual fuck just happened?

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns #black writers #roman reigns fic #arisnotebook

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m00mis · 2 years

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hello~ i saw that you're accepting requests and i really like how you write seventeen. 🥺 if it's not too much can i please request a scenario where seventeen tries to make up with their partner after a fight? thank you and i hope you're having an amazing day/night! ♥️

thankyou! that’s the best compliment <3 i took my sweet time doing this sorry they’re kind of long… hope you enjoy!

how seventeen would make up after a fight

cheol - he is devastated. so angry at himself and always blames himself for every fight. cries after bad ones because he cant imagine losing you. he would be very scared to attempt to make up with you because what if he says the wrong thing? so he writes his thoughts down and memorises what he wants to say but when your eyes meet his he forgets it all. it doesnt matter though because you can tell how sincere he is, he’s on his knees with his big eyes, long eyelashes wet, begging for forgiveness. he doesn’t need to say how he’s sorry when its written so clearly right there on his face

jeonghan - would text your best friend for advice on what he should do, not because he doesn’t know how to make up with you, but because he needs to know if you had said anything that he could fix and how angry you were at him. after confirming the details he would trap you in bed with him lying on top of you, smiling at your irritated expression, pressing tons of kisses to your whole face until it softens. when you finally gave in he would sit up and hold your hands in his saying how sorry he was and how you should forgive him because honestly what you were angry about was a little silly (“have you been messaging friend’s/name again? goddammit hannie.” “i had to know! it’s not like you were in the mood to tell me what was wrong 🙄”)

joshua - loves making you something to show how much he appreciates you. your bedroom is covered in trinkets and little crafts he has made for you to express his feelings so this time he decides to sculpt a vase. he picks out the flowers for it especially, making sure all the flower’s meanings amplified his apology. he also got you jewellery that you had been wanting and waits by the front door for you to return home to present them to you. he would say how sorry he was, taking your hand to show you the table where the vase with flowers is surrounded by candles, with your favourite food laid out. “i love you so much y/n, i’m truly sorry”

jun - he dislikes confrontation so would avoid you to give you time to cool off. the fight was accidental, he wouldn’t have hurt you on purpose but he takes time to understand your point of view. endearingly sits next to you and listens to every word you say. after you’ve explained yourself he would give you a big hug “i understand now, i’m sorry for what i did” and give you a little kiss before trying to lighten the mood by playing with your hair or booping your nose or something lmao

hoshi - he would lock himself away and rake through his song library to find the perfect song that encompasses all his feelings, then find you and drag you to his room, making you sit down and listen to this perfectly selected song that can speak for him and he stands there facing you grooving to it, mouthing along to some parts and clutching at his heart at the end. luckily the fight wasn’t too serious or you would beat his ass. he’s too cute (and cunning), he knows that this way you would forgive him, but he’s still scared after the song ends when he has to start using his own words “what i say always gets me in trouble”

wonwoo - this one is hard because i really can’t see him getting into that much difficulty in a relationship? i think if something came up it would be because you wish he would communicate a bit more with what goes on deeper inside him. but he would apologise straight away after he saw the slightest change in you and explain that he just couldn’t find the right words to express himself eloquently. but i also feel sometimes he would stay up late and talk about things that would metaphorically say what he wants to tell you, very poetic man when the time is right

woozi - man is extremely gifted with his words and knows just what to say to you at any time. a huge comfort knowing that he is a word wizard because no matter what, he says what you need to hear. i actually don’t think he would like writing songs for you in the sense that his work and you are completely separate to him and if he merges them in any way it will lessen the importance he holds for you. he gives you himself in his raw form and wants you to accept that, as he’s such a perfectionist in his work. polishing his feelings for you in a song would take away the raw power of love he has for you. so he would just give you his feelings right there, apologising and letting the words fall so he gets his feelings out before he starts overthinking and they have the chance to form into something he doesn’t mean

dk - his emotions are so big he wears them on his sleeve which means when you two fight he is so visibly upset. overthinking 101 and might go to one of the members, probably minghao for advice. he would book a hotel in your favourite city, so you could get out of the environment that is straining your relationship. he would pack everything for you and would plan out your trip with a plan a and b incase you just wanted to relax together. he’s so giving and just wants to see you happy. it really hurts him when you’re stressed out. he’d serve on you hand and foot and that’s how he would apologise. at the end of the trip he would say he’s sorry for letting things get so rough between you two and promise to take better care of you

mingyu - he would knock on your bedroom door and whisper through it explaining how sorry he was, edging the door open, slowly shuffling in just so he can hold your head in his hands and wipe away the tears he caused with his thumbs. you wouldn’t make eye contact with him but he pulls you in to his chest to cuddle and rocks you while apologising and tries to sort the misunderstanding out while stroking your head. later on he would cook you your favourite meal and watch you eat it. he would refuse to eat any because its all for you, “and anyway, i’m already full with love”

minghao - goes for the longest walk to take time to mull it over and analyse. he’d learn from his mistakes and realise what he should have done and how to improve himself for you. but he wouldn’t take it as a negative. he would come home with food he had bought walking back to your place and explain how you two fighting is a sign of good emotional boundaries. it shows you still stand up for yourselves as individuals, not neglecting your own values and views. he would respect you even more and it’s a learning curve, just a bump in the road that strengthens your bond.

seungkwan - would be extremely worried and stressed out, replaying the fight over and over in his head. he would approach you very gently, wanting to talk. because you two always confided in each other, when you didn’t tell him what was going on he would begin overthinking and spiralling, he wouldn’t sleep or eat. he knows you need space but because you were so close, not knowing how you were feeling was wrecking him. he just wants to listen to you and know what is going on in that beautiful mind of yours!

vernon - classic romantic guy that will do acts of service and buy gifts like flowers, chocolates, clothes, cute classic apology gifts. he can’t figure out the right thing to say when he’s the one who made you upset, he doesn’t want to make it worse. only after the air had cleared a bit he would sincerely apologise and promise not to repeat his mistakes. he would take you out on a date to a fancy restaurant, but you would feel so out of place that you leave and go get takeout and ice cream instead, eating it in his car while listening to music. he would joke about how uncomfortable it was in the restaurant and how this is way better but he really wanted to treat you to show how much he cared for you. you'd have a very long, deep talk together in the car before heading home

dino - he would be so confused if you didn’t accept his apology right away and he’d ask all the members “why wont she forgive me i’ve done everything wikihow told me to” making them sigh in disappointment. when he starts to accept you’ll hate him forever, you finally forgive him. he is so happy, practically jumps on you to get you to go out and drink with him to celebrate. after way too many drinks he would confess how scared he was, how much he loves you and how he would do anything for you. you had to drag him home and tuck him into bed while he rambled on about how you’re the love of his life. he only stops saying that he loves you when he passes out in bed. when you get in he wraps his arm around you and mumbles “i love you” again before starting to snore in your face

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yuyu1024 · 8 months

Text

Birthday Sex

Pairings: San x Y/N x Wooyoung x Mingi

Genre/tags: FWB, MxM & MxF

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞🔞 smut/angst, cursing, sensual touching, making out, semi public, pet name, kink, unprotected sex, mxm /mxf relationship

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.6k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: no plot. Just pure smut hehe sorry this is short and random 😅

*******

Everyone have gathered to celebrate your birthday. The table is filled with food and drinks. And the whole room, probably the whole house is occupied by the loud yelling, cheering and the singing as you are all enjoying the karaoke that came with the vacation house you guys rented out for the weekend.

"My throat hurts." Wooyoung says as he coughs after singing the highest note of the song San selected for him to sing. "Can we just play a game... I'm tired now from singing..." he flops down at the sofa and sit beside you.

"What game do you suggest?" San asks as he chugs down a glass of beer

"Card game?" Mingi suggests

"What kind of card game?" Wooyoung asks

"Wait... I did see something here..." San crawls towards the drawer where the games/toys are at. "This place is so cool providing games for kids and adults..." he then shows you guys one by one the stuff toys, board games and even the toy cars.

"But I'm too tired to play games..." you whine as you lean to Wooyoung's shoulder. "A little tipsy too... to even use my brain." You giggle

"Then, tell us what you want to do baby?" San asks

You smirk. "Don't call me baby... you know how I feel when you call me that."

"Why... what do you feel? Huh?" Wooyoung then cups your chin and kisses you on the cheek.

"Secret." You whisper, winking at him.

"Hey..." Mingi goes to sit on your other side and pouts, "why kiss her?"

"It was just on the cheek, Mangi." Woo explains. "Don't get jealous." He teases

"Are you... jealous?" You ask Mingi as you move to his side and lean on him this time.

"I am! Coz last time I didn't get to kiss you." He is serious. Yet adorable.

"You know you can kiss me anytime..." you says as you pinch his cheeks.

"Really?" He smiles

"Yes."

"Can I kiss you now?" He asks

"If you want to... yes."

Mingi smiles and leans in, lower, so he could reach and kiss you. The kiss is not just a smooch. It is a definite KISS.

His hand placement on your nape, positioning you for the perfect angle and then his tongue exploring your mouth as if his rent is due tonight.

Mingi is such a good kisser. His kiss could just make you go nuts especially with those lips.

"You two sound so sexy..." Wooyoung mumbles before he goes in to touch you. He begins cupping your breast while he leans in to lick your exposed collarbone with that off-shoulder top of yours.

"Yah... how about me?" San is sitting on the floor watching.

His whine made you pause and smile, stopping your make out session with Mingi. "What do you want, Sannie?"

"I don't know... but I want you." He's so red from all the drinking you guys did. He is tipsy too but he's still in control of himself and knows what he wants.

"It's your birthday, Y/N..." Wooyoung says before he goes in and kiss you on your neck. "Choose...who you want... to fuck first..." he says in between kisses

"Only one?" You asks

"Baby, you know we get jealous easily thats why four-some is not ideal for us... we only did it once and it got a bit heated..." San explains while his eyes is on Mingi

"What?" Mingi reacts cutely

"I think... It's better for us to have you one at a time...plus while we wait... we can..." Woo pauses to reach out to your other side and give Mingi a smooch on the lips. "We can keep each other busy."

"But I want to spent time with you all... it's my birthday..." you whine as you flop and lay your back on the sofa.

You are being too greedy. You're not demanding like this. It's the alcohol talking for you. Coz you know it can be chaotic if its four of you.

"Baby," San finally gets up and crawls on top of you pushing the two men on the side. "Woo and Mingi can stay in the room if you want... but no touching for them of course... while... I fuck you 'till break of dawn." He snarls right at your ear before he nibbles your skin, leaving marks on your neck.

"Hmmm..." you hum as you enjoy his kisses. "Are you sure we can do that?" you ask San

"Anything for you." He answers before he plants a soft kiss on your forehead

"Why is it always have to be you... the main guy...?" Wooyoung asks, rolling his eyes

San whips his head to him, grinning. "Coz I am the main guy..." then he kisses you on the lips before gazing at you. "Y/N is mine."

"Yah..." Mingi protests, "She never said she's yours..."

"But she is..." San explains, "I am dating her..."

"Not officially..." Mingi says

"Yaah... Mangi..." Woo suddenly stands up and kisses Mingi on the lips once again to get his attention. "Are you horny?"

Mingi with puppy eyes and cherry cheeks, "I am."

"Fuck me then..." Woo takes Mingi's hand and place it on his cheek. "I can be your buttom tonight... if you want." He says, smiling ear to ear. "Coz... I am horny as hell now too... just seeing you get jelly over them."

"Are you sure?" Mingi asks, "you want it?"

Woo looks down at Mingi's bulge, smirking. "I can take you... don't worry." Wooyoung then pulls Mingi up from the sofa and leading him to walk with him, so they could go to the room upstairs.

"Have fun you two!" San shouts as the two disappears from their sight. "Also there is lube up there!" He giggles

"Don't you think.. Wooyoung likes Mingi a little bit more than us?" You say, pointing the obvious.

"Maybe... how can he not... Mingi is his type. The cute type." Then San frowns. "why are you jealous? I'm right here."

You giggle. "I know... I can see you..."

"Don't be literal... I meant--"

You hush him by putting your index finger on his lips. "I know."

Then whilst biting your lower lip, you start to strip your clothes off while San is watching you. He's kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"Damn..." he hisses under his breathe the second he sees you just wearing your bra and panty. "Fuck... baby..." he can't take it anymore. He pushes his face forward and smudge his face on your chest. "You're so damn sexy..."

"Looks like you are more excited for my birthday sex than me..." you tease

"Baby, c'mon... you know I'm always excited when it comes to you."

"Aah!" You gasp when you suddenly feel his hand go to your clothed core.

"You're already excited..." he mumbles, smiling as he felt you wet and ready.

"Of course..." you exhale as you wrap your arms around him. "How can I not be?" Then you tilt your head and crash your lips to his.

Both of you are moaning into the kiss. You are not rushing this. You are just enjoying every little pleasure you two could give to each other. You have the whole not so why bother going to heaven so soon?

"F-fuck! S-San...! Nngggguuuh..." you are shaking. His finger in you is already a beautiful toture whilst you to are making out on the sofa. "Yes... there..." you move your hips along his rythm

"Ughh... My dick is twitching.. just hearing you cry..."

San's eyes is on you. Always on you whenever you two pause on kissing. He likes to see you react when he hits your spot or your body jerk whenever he makes you feel good with just his hands. He enjoys it. It turns him on even.

"Sannie... just... fuck me... I can't wait anymore... I want you in me..." you breathe, holding onto him for dear life. Your breathing is heavy and you are about to explode with all the sex drive.

"Let's do this then..." he grins. And then he switches your position, putting you on the sofa whilst he is on top of you.

"You looks so handsome..." you say to him as he rips his button up shirt up.

"Am I?" His dimple is showing. He likes that you called him handsome. "Or you're just saying that because..." he got lower, his face is inches from yours. "my dick is about to rip you apart?"

"Oh, Sannie..." you sensually glide your hands over his face and then his broad shoulders. "You are handsome... always... fucking me or not..."

He scoffs, trying not to smile. "I fucking love you... you really know how to make me fold and melt."

"I fucking love you too... my sannie." You whisper

"Fuck!" He grunts as he eases his length in your core. "Baby!" He nuzzles his face on your neck, breathing in and out slowly. "You're....taking me... so well...ughhhh..."

He is lengthy and thick. He fits you perfectly. More than perfect actually that it makes you clench even more.

"B-baby..." he is shaking. "I'm not even moving yet... but... but... fuck, fuck, fuck! Your so warm and holding me so well."

You start to kiss him from the back of his ear, his cheek and then pull his face up so you could kiss him on the lips. He is sweating bullets.

"We can go slow... we have all night." You say

"Fuck... just thinking about how we can be stuck like this... all night..." he positions his hands to find support from the sofa and start to move his hips. "I'm so fucking happy!"

You chuckle as you see him get excited. but then you stop smiling the second it hit you. Meaning, the second his dick hit your spot.

"Holy fuck!" You grab onto the sofa as well, above your head, to support yourself. He is thrusting in like you could feel him hit your stomach. It's so powerful and so intoxicating. "Fuck! Aaah!! San!!" You moan loudly

"Happy birthday, Baby." He says

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fraugwinska · 3 months

Text

Chapter 2 - Limbo

Limbo (noun) 1.Religion: the place between heaven and hell to which Roman Catholics believe that the spirits of dead children who have not been baptized go 2.Uncertainty: an uncertain situation that you cannot control and in which there is no progress or improvement

Tags & Warnings: Mentions of Cannibalism If you want to listen along to the intended arrangement of the song, play the following when you see this symbol: ♫ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eu1auaUHy0c

Again, you woke up alone.

For the few months you've been in hell, you could count the times Alastor was at the breakfast table on one of your hands. You didn't complain, you had more than enough to do, and without him there to distract or tease you, you were more focused anyways. Like every morning, you got yourself up and ready. Alastor had a fable for a certain look, and by association you had to dress accordingly. Shortly after your death, Alastor brought a tall, elegant female demon to his house (you learned her name was Miss Rosie) to fit you for some much needed clothes. She treated you with unexpected kindness and care, and you instantly admired her. As you learned, she was a long-time friend of Alastor's and owned a fashion emporium in the cannibal district of Pentagram City, the capital of the Pride Ring in which you apparently lived. While she measured you, she tactfully asked about your typical style, your personality and your scars.

Ah, yes, your scars. It took you a while to really comprehend your hellish form. From what you learned from Alastor and Rosie, humanoid sinners like you were pretty uncommon. Normally sinners would have a mostly animalistic form – snouts, fur, scales, maws. The only new appendages you had were two very small, black, pointy ears and a long, silky tail in the same color – faintly reminiscing a lynx. Your skin looked like the saturation was drained, leaving a grayish, almost ghostly hue. Your hair shimmered in different shades of charcoal, silver and porpoise, although the length and style stayed the same from when you were alive. Essentially, you decided, you looked like a black-and-white version of your old self. Your eyes though had changed dramatically, even Alastor was obsessed fascinated with them. They were bright and golden, with a much unusual opalescence, shimmering in every color imaginable where direct light hit them. The first few days you avoided mirrors, the sight of them startling you whenever you saw them. And then, the scars. Dark, inky stains that looked like surrealist paintings on your gray skin. As you offered, Alastor had indeed consumed your living body. Well, parts of it – as he later explained to you he made very calculated choices, after all, 'he was a connoisseur'. The memory of this particular part of the deal was mysteriously wiped from your head, and you didn't dare to question this unexpected trace of mercy. So, you were left with three marks: One dark stain on your shoulder, one on the side of your back (you heard him one time raving to Rosie about the best filet he had since 1931) and one where once your heart was. You didn't know whether he ate it or not, and you definitely didn't need to know, but according to him it was the last piece that he took, and the final moment of your life when he did.

You quickly washed up and put on the uniform Rosie had made you. She had offered you to make a bunch of elaborate outfits, but you were adamant you just needed workable clothes. So, she and Alastor decided on a simple, everyday uniform that matched the style of your master and a simple selection of basic loungewear. The uniform Rosie designed was plain but elegant. A white flowy and ruffled blouse with a modest collar and puffy long sleeves combined with high-waisted black balloon dress pants (of course fitted to accommodate your highly untrained and very annoying tail). She also brought a corsage belt, made out of suede leather, in Alastor's signature color crimson red, and matching red and white oxford heels, 'to tie the outfit together'. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that everything was neat and in order and you swiftly put your hair up to a loose ponytail, as usual fighting with some loose strands of your hair tickling your cat ears. Then, you began to work.

Alastor had instructed you to a strict daily routine, whether he was home or not.

Eat. Study. Housework. Study. Eat. Sleep.

Heading to the kitchen, you glanced at the french press – your master has had his morning coffee already before he left, a sip of cold, deep brown liquid still in the pot. Sometimes you thought he was running on black joe like a car on fuel, and wondered how – or better even IF – he slept at all. You sighed, cleaned it out, washed and dried it and put it back into the cabinet. You weren't the biggest fan of coffee, and proceeded to make yourself a cup of black tea. Cutting an Apple, you took your meager breakfast and sat down on the dining table, where he left you your first daily task – reading the newspaper. Oh. What. Fun.

Alastor was adamant to teach you about hell before you were allowed to venture around the city. The only places you've been since you arrived were his house and his garden. Hell wasn't the infernal, torturous void full of rabid monsters like human religions often depicted it, but a blooming society of demons and sinners with strict hierarchies and an established culture. A very... questionable culture, but culture nonetheless. You were never religious, the furthest spirituality you've felt in your lifetime was a long-living obsession with gemstones and their properties. But this place felt not too much different from life in the overworld. Except for the unsettling normalization of casual bloodshed, explicit taboos, sexual debauchery and gruesome violence.

According to Alastor, reading the Infernal Times Today should give you an overview of everyday social life in hell. A lot of it was trivial or uninteresting to you, but you did as you were told, and read about ongoing turf wars, latest celebrity gossips, conflicts rising in other rings of hell (and yes, there were more than one as you quickly learned) and newest safety recommendations regarding the upcoming 'exterminations'. It had disturbed you less than you expected when you learned about the yearly cleanses by the hands of heaven sent angels. It was barely another addition to the many unfamiliar, inconceivable facts you learned about your new eternal home.

Finishing up, you put away your dishes and folded the paper neatly, putting it on the coffee table next to your masters armchair in the spacious living room. He had a tendency to question you on it's contents, most likely to see if you really read it. If he came home in the evenings.

Next came the books. oh...The fucking books. You always liked to read a good book now and then, but for the last months you've read more thick, complicated, verbose tombs than in years of your lifetime. 'A brief history of Hell' (HA! Very funny, the 'book' was as thick as your arm), 'The new Atlas Infernale', 'Demon Royalty for Dummies' (you still struggled throughout the whole thing) or 'Facts and Fiction of the Malleus Maleficarum' were just a few he had you study. Which was the only form of torture he had you endure. You had expected to be treated... not that nicely. But Alastor didn't seem to want to hurt, or torture you. In contrary, he treated you more like an exotic pet – sometimes staring at you with what you thought was interest, amusement or fascination. He seemed to enjoy discussions with you about philosophy, literature or music, and besides mocking some of your more modern tastes he was mostly cordial and... nice. Too nice. You had an underlying feeling that he was lulling you in a false sense of safety, as if to one day catch you off-guard.

Today's book was the lightest he had yet prepared for you. You eyed the cover suspiciously.

“.. Huh. Mary Moore Bremer. New Orleans Creole Recipes. A cook... He wants me to read a cookbook!?”

That was new. And very specific. You allowed yourself a moment of confusion, then you decided to shrug it off, sat down in the plush armchair, turned on the radio for some soft jazz (the only music allowed in this house), and started reading.

Alastor's garden was wild and chaotic, in stark contrast to his house. Strange looking plants and weeds grew unrestricted, creeping over the iron fences from the turquoise, swampy forest that surrounded the west and north sides of the mansion. Some of them were even so much alive that they snapped at your ankles or blinked at you hungrily through yellow eyeballs.

Since the house was tidy enough, you decided to work on getting at least parts of the front garden under control.

You rolled up your sleeves and pants, put on a very tacky, frilly pink apron you found in a shed and started with the more harm- and toothless plants. One by one, you pulled them out. You didn't care to change clothes, even though hell's sun – a big, orange orb wit a black pentagram against a scarlet sky – gleamed in full zenith. The day was cool and a little breezy. You hummed absentmindedly while you worked, one of the few quirks you didn't lose the day you died. You chuckled internally when you realized the irony in the tune you were humming – 'Whistle while you work', the old Disney song from Snow White. In fact, that was one thing you didn't really do anymore. Laugh. Smile. Chuckle, snicker, giggle. When was the last time? A few weeks ago, you remembered, when you found the tattered photography of your mother under your pillow. You came to hell after that one fateful night with nothing but your new body, so you were sure Alastor put it there (who else could it have been?), and even though you did not understand why he gave it to you, you didn't question him about it. You were just grateful - getting this memento back felt a bit melancholic.

A shrill bell ripped your train of thought back into reality. You turned to the overgrown iron front gates, face suddenly hard and a sharp sickle tight in your grip. “How may I assist you?”, you shout out, muscles tense and ready to react.

“(Y/n), love, it's Rosie!”

You promptly jumped up, relief relaxing your stiffness and you hurried to open the gates. There she stood, Miss Rosie, in her usual, elegant day dress and the big sunhat adorned with skulls, smiled with sharp, pearly white teeth down at her.

“Miss Rosie, it's a pleasure as always. Do come in, please. Tea?”

“Thank you, love. I won't stay too long, but a cup of Darjeeling would be much appreciated.”

She patted your head gently and walked over to the front porch, taking the liberty of occupying one of the two lounge chairs and sat down a wicker basket you didn't notice she had in her hands until now onto the matching table. You quickly ripped off the embarrassing apron and brushed over your uniform so as not to carry too much dirt into the house and hurried after her.

“Am I correct in assuming that Alastor has left you alone yet again?”

Your face softened. “He is a busy overlord with little time to leisure at home I guess. May I take your hat?”

“Gladly, love. But ugh, that scoundrel, I should really reprimand him. Leaving my favorite dove alone all the time.”

She pinched your cheeks after handing you her hat. Your face felt a bit warm, and you turned to hang her huge hat on a little gold hook on one of the wooden columns before hurrying inside. Tea was prepared quickly and on the table in no time, you also remembered to fetch Rosie her favorite black lace fan. Even if it was cold, you've learned she liked the feeling and 'drama' of it in casual conversations. She gestured you to sit next to her on the other chair.

“How are you doing, (Y/n)? Are you making progress with your studies?”, Rosie chatted, sipping the piping hot tea. She liked it almost boiling.

“I'm very grateful, Miss Rosie. My master is treating me kindly and I learn... something new everyday. I just... maybe feel a little useless...”

The tall and slender demonesse laughed in her cup. “His name is Alastor, (Y/n), you know you can address him with it. So, still no powers yet? You both must be bursting with frustration.”

“Almost at the seams, miss.”, you nodded sternly.

“Don't put yourself under such scrutiny, my dear. If they come, they come. You can't force them out, not here anyway, locked in this...” She circled her hand around with a huff “...ivory tower that this estate has become to you. You haven't even seen a faint glimpse of hell. Alastor and you just have to learn to be patient. And get out once in a while.” Rosie giggled.

Your folded hands cramped together. “If I didn't know that he was a demon, I'd say he has the patience of a saint. But... I mean, that's not the way our deal was supposed to go. I wanted to be useful to him, after... all he helped me with. Instead i feel more like a millstone around his neck. I feel like I'm not holding up to my end of the bargain.”

Rosie stopped giggling and raised a brow at you, her deep, blackened eyes shooting you a puzzled look.

“You have a lot to learn about your new home, and about Alastor, love. I know him better than many others, true, but he is an enigma nonetheless. But believe me, one of the only things I can say about him with complete certainty: He never makes deals that don't benefit him.”

Because you remained silent, she leaned forward, her face looking like she felt sorry for you.

“You truly feel guilty about this, don't you my sweet girl? Ah!”, she huffed, setting down her teacup and fanning herself in theatrical outrage, “He doesn't deserve you, really.”

You felt your ears twitch, which had quickly become a tell of yours that you were amused. Rosie flicked the feathery tufts at their tips and chuckled in mutual understanding.

“Anyway, I brought something for you.“

Rosie opened the basket and took out two square packages.

“Miss Rosie, you shouldn't have...”

“Silence!”, she interrupted, holding up one of her long-fingered hands, “I will not hear any protests. Go on, love, open them!”

She handed you the two packages. The first one you opened was a bit bigger, wrapped in crinkly, white paper and very thin and light.

“Oh Miss Rosie! How in hell did you get them?!”

In your hands were around three copys of sheet notes, songs you loved to sing – music was a topic of conversation Rosie often explored with you. She was more open minded than the radio demon in that regard, so one of the copys was a more modern song. Your heart jumped when you saw a powerful piano-arrangement for 'I'm still standing' by Elton John. She also got you wonderful arrangements of 'La vie en rose' and 'How deep is the ocean', two songs you knew that were Rosie's favorites.

“That is for me to know and for you to wonder. I hope you'll finally grant me to hear at least one of them from you once you've made yourself familiar with them? I am dying to hear your singing voice.”, Rosie smiled, pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Ever since Alastor told Rosie you had studied musical theater at an independent academy for performing arts when you were alive, she pressed you time and time again to show her hints and bits of your skills. You were always able to gallantly shift away from this topic. You had enjoyed your craft, although you never made it. 'Too niche', was what casting agents said, or 'too short', or 'Too indie', the list went on and on. Talent didn't really matter that much if you weren't the standard cookie-cutter, belting, long-legged (generic) blonde main character, and the few shows you had booked were mainly side characters, ensemble or straight-up dancing roles in small, short productions. Even though you knew you would struggle to become some kind of successful, the feeling of failure had crushed you. Gone were the childish and naive fantasies of being so famous you'd earn enough cash and influence to be able to provide for your mom and keep her out of Franks grimy claws. And because life wasn't free, you had to bitterly compromise, running from bars to smaller theaters to make some extra money on the side in cabaret shows (which you kind of enjoyed), sometimes even doing gigs in some very shady burlesque bars or by gogo dancing in clubs (which you absolutely loathed). A few times you had sat down on Alastor's piano, your fingers caressing the ebony and ivory keys. But you never felt less like playing or singing. You forced a somewhat friendly expression on your face, bowing your head to your benefactor. The sneaky dame had made a smart, strategic move - you had no way of getting out of this one.

“I promise to see to it, Miss Rosie. I can't thank you enough for your generous gift.”

Rosie just chuckled, showing her sharp teeth in a pleased grin, then she pushed the other package nearer to you. You understood the unspoken command and unwrapped the thicker, more compact square. It contained a journal. Thick, sepia sheets of lined writing paper, bound in a maroon brocade casing. Golden and burgundy floral embellishments covered front and back, and it could even be closed and locked with a latch. It felt decadent in your hands and must have been expensive – and totally wasted on you. You looked up to her, trying to find the right words to gracefully reject this gift.

“I'd ask if a cat got your tongue, but, well, I'd feel it would be an inappropriate joke.”, Rosie chuckled, casually waving to your nervously whipping tail. Then her face fell, and she became serious, speaking in a soft but stern voice.

“I chose this gift so it serves a very specific purpose for you. Write, (Y/n). Hell is a lot for a young girl like you, much more since you are one of Alastor's souls. Once you leave this house, you'll know why he, and I for that matter, want to prepare you for that. You will see and moreover feel a lot, meet dangerous people, and more than often they will be... unpleasant experiences. And if you can't contain it, if it all gets too much - write it down. Please.”

It was almost dusk when Alastor returned. He found you on the piano bench, staring at the sheet notes of 'La vie on rose' on the stand, fingers hovering over the keys. You heard the vigorous buzzing of his shadows and knew from experience that he had materialized right behind you.

„Welcome home, master.“, you greeted him without turning around.

„Hello darling, glad to be back! But, for all that's unholy, stop with the formalities, kitten, how many times have I told you 'Alastor' is just fine, at the very least when it's just us.“

„Yes, Alastor. Apologies.“

For a few seconds, you must have looked like an oil painting, unmoving, eyes narrowed and your fingers still not on the keys. Were there crickets in hell?

„You know, piano was never my... forte.“ The invisible audience that followed Alastor everywhere broke out in laughter, your ears twitched. He joined their laughter in a joyous 'Ha ha ha', then leaned over your shoulder to examine the papers, his face inches from yours.

„I see Rosie made good on her threat. Too bad I missed her visit.“

„She gives you her best, and promised to return tomorrow for breakfast, if you are available.“

„And you intent to sit here and will the piano to play on it's own until then?“, he mocked.

You sighed defeated, flexed your fingers and folded them in your lap. „Miss Rosie really wants to hear it, I promised her, but my french is abhorrent. I don't want to butcher it and offend her.“

„Nonsense, my dear. Atta girl, let's give it a go, it's about time to see where you come from!“

He playfully knocked your head with his cane two times, then he threw it in the air where it popped into nothingness. Alastor placed his hands on your shoulder, his long clawlike fingers delicately resting on your collarbones. You took a trembling breath – you had no choice. „Alright then.“ You suddenly felt tense with a strange nervousness. Although he had shown a special interest about your past work, especially enthused by your choice of career (he was delighted, as he was 'sort of a thespian himself, made for the limelight, my darling!'), he never once asked to see or hear you perform something. How uncomfortable, yet familiar and calming – you could still feel stage fright. Who would've guessed that these things didn't die with you after actual death?

Well, here goes nothing. ♫

Your fingers reset over the keys. Softly, they pressed down and you felt the notes dancing around you. Even though your hands felt stiff and rusty, your muscle memory set in and the familiarity of the feeling of ivory and ebony keys made playing so easy you could focus entirely on singing. You softened your voice, reminiscing that this song always had a feeling of melancholy about it, something sweet, a bit bitter and tart.

♫Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l′homme auquel j'appartiens♫

While you played, you felt the weight of Alastors sharp claws on your clavicles. Even though you were focused on the song, you could feel them slightly move, scratching your skin – he was most likely swaying. His never-fading static flew from his hands over to you, encasing your body like warm, drizzling sand.

♫Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors, je sens dans moi Mon cœur qui bat♫

You closed your eyes, lost in the music and weighted down by his hand, and for a second, you almost felt human again. The presence of actual, intensifying feelings felt overwhelming and deliciously sorrowful. You envisioned yourself sitting in one of the dusty, cramped practice rooms in the academy, one of the places that have always made you feel calm and relaxed, a place of solitude and safety. It was almost as if you could smell old sheet notes, the flying specs of dust tickling your nose.

♫ When you kiss me, heaven sighs And though I close my eyes I see la vie en rose ♫

You imagined what it would have been like to sing this song, for the one special someone, in a musical confession of your love for them. It had always been a romantic, bitter-sweet dream of your artists soul, the never occurring grand gesture, such a perfect image in an imperfect world, back, when things like hope and miracles weren't just words, but even possibilities. Maybe that's what made songs like these so melancholic – because it lured you to wish for things that could never be fulfilled.

♫Give your heart and soul to me And life will always be La vie en rose♫

Your voice felt different, layered and full, as if a whole choir sat in your throat, and you thought you could hear yourself harmonize with it before the song ended and you lifted your fingers from the keys. Alastor's hands jolted up from your shoulders as if struck by lightning, his invisible audience applauding and whistling. The sudden loss of contact made you jump in your skin, and you looked up to him in confused insecurity.

„Marvelous, my dear! Really astonishing! Rosie will be over the moon! Your pronunciation may be a bit off, but nothing that can't be worked out! Maybe you'll even give Mimzy a run for her money!“ He praised over-enthusiastically, a tenacious smile on his lips. „Well, I'm starved, how about you? Let's head to the kitchen, we'll put your daily studies to good use!“

The gumbo you cooked together was nothing less than delicious – rich in flavor and spice and warming your body all the way through. Well, together was barely accurate. Your master had a passion for cooking, and normally you would just set the table and do the dishes. Today, he insisted on you preparing the veggies and meats, making the roux and seasoning the stew, under his watchful supervision (and obnoxious commentary) of course. You suspected he was indirectly checking if you've read the cook book, and you tried hard to remember everything you've read about the dish.

Dinner, however, was significantly more quiet than usual. Normally Alastor wouldn't stop chatting about his daily endeavors, sometimes he would pry you about parts of your past life or discuss his latest topic of interest (The week of Machiavellis philosophy was exceptionally excruciating...), but this time he ate in silence, apparently lost in thought, so you did the same. Sometimes he glanced over to you, eyes narrow as if he tried to figure something out, but then returning to his meal without a word said. It made you feel uneasy. With both plates finished and cleared, you began to stand up to clean the table, but Alastor held a hand up.

„Don't worry about that today, kitten. I have something to discuss with you.“

You sat back down, folded your hands and looked at the demon in uncomfortable anticipation. He snapped his fingers, and the dishes disappeared and were replaced by a glass of red wine for him and a delicate cup of hot pomegranate tea for you.

Alastor leaned back in his chair and twirled his cane. He seemed more serious than usual, his toothy grin less wide than you were used to. „Rosie sent me a telegram after she's been here, about you.“

You tensed, nails slowly pushing into your gray skin. „I hope I didn't offend her?“

„No, no, (Y/N), you know she is always delighted by you. But she seemed to have the impression that you felt a bit... futile?“

You willed your face to remain calm and steady, but still felt the heat of a blush rushing to your cheeks. Damn, Rosie, you traitor. You thought for a moment, choosing the words for your answer carefully.

„I may have hoped I'd be of more use to you by now, yes, sir.“

„Alastor.“

„Apologies. Alastor.“

He stared at you for a long moment. He didn't seem angry, but you had a hard time to decipher his expression.

„Well, beginning tomorrow, we'll change that.“, Alastor exclaimed, fetching his wine glass and toasting you before leaning back in his chair. „Since my newest project is picking up speed it's the best opportunity to prove your capabilities. I'll personally prepare you for the rest of this week, and then we'll move.“

You were too stunned to speak, not really understanding what he was trying to say. You knew from dinner conversations of his latest endeavor, a hotel in the middle of Pentagram City, founded by the daughter of Lucifer to redeem the souls of sinners. As laughable as he thought the idea was – and he wasn't that wrong in your opinion – he had spent more and more time away from his mansion, presumably there. But what did he want you to do? What did he mean by preparing you? And what did he mean by...

„Move, sir?“

He glared at you with an impatient rustling static, his toothless smile dangerously twitching. You suppressed an eyeroll. „Move, Alastor?“

He nodded in contempt, then he flamboyantly stood up, rounding the table. Like a spider in it's web, encircling the fly.

„This project of mine became a lot more... exciting, so by so that I need to invest almost all of my time into it, it's just common sense to move into the hotel itself. And I can't leave my newest investment undefended, starving and alone in the middle of nowhere, can I? I may even put you to good use there, powers or not.“

You shook with growing excitement, your tail started to whip enthusiastically, back and forth.

„Thank you, Alastor!“, you said so eagerly it sounded as if you were shouting, „I will not disappoint you.“

You felt an upcoming sense of ...pride? – damn, Rosie, you wonderful woman. He deemed you ready to finally work, and by satan, you wouldn't fail him. You would finally get out of this house. You would prove to be actually useful. You would prove you were worth the deal he made.

With a little smile tugging subconsciously on your lips, you sipped your tea, enveloped in your thoughts about all the things you wanted to do and see in Pentagram City. Blissfully unaware of the ominous aroused, buzzing shadows around your master and the morbid curiosity in his glowing eyes as he observed you, drinking his blood red wine.

„Don't count your chicken before they hatch, my brave kitten.“

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #ao3 fanfic #method to madness #metoma #radiogem

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bajistadiamond · 9 months

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Yuu and the Magical Power of Songs

Yuu Singer, 🎶💎Ramshackle💎🎶 (We wish you a Merry Christmas - Phineas and Ferb Version)

I couldn't think of a better idea for this Christmas than to use "We wish you a Merry Christmas" that they used in Phineas and Ferb… Well. I will do the same for this New Year... This story takes place after the OverBlots; After the near destruction of NRC, Malleus and Yuu combined their magic into a time spell that returned them all to the entrance ceremony to start things off without disaster.

The holidays are the funniest and happiest time of the year for many.

When Yuu first arrived at Twisted Wonderland he didn't imagine the seriousness with which they prepared for each celebration… what he discovered in spring and fall.

And that's not to mention the events that occurred randomly.

Anyway, at this moment the 8 dorm leaders were in a meeting.

"So we agree to decorate everything?" Yuu asked those present, who nodded at his words.

Since for some reason the entire student population wanted to celebrate the holidays at NRC, they needed to vote on whether they would decorate just their dormitories or the entire school.

Azul already had many ideas for the most fruitful season for Mostro Lounge.

"I have many selected items to order." Kalim said excitedly as he showed his cell phone to Riddle.

"Send me the links, I have my contacts so shipping will be cheaper hehehe~". Idia said with a giggle, who was present forced by Ortho.

Leona looked at the largest of the Shroud inquisitively, but he did not want to know.

"And who will pay for everything?" Vil asked, adjusting his Santa hat.

Yuu smiled and the others could swear that demon horns appeared on his head. "The director of course."

The others looked at Yuu strangely; Crowley was a cheapskate no matter how much he said otherwise, they highly doubted that he would pay for Christmas decorations.

"The director is so kind that he gave me his credit card." Yuu said taking said card out of his pocket. "Besides, when he realizes it, it will be too late."

Everything was silent for a moment before everyone laughed like "villains."

These holidays would be expensive for Dire Crowley…

The light music club was preparing to practice; they would have a lot of work performing at Mostro Lounge and the Christmas and New Year party.

"So what should we play today?" Cater asked looking at her cell phone for ideas.

"How about it, all I want for Christmas is you~." Lilia suggested doing a riff.

"It's already widely seen." Kalim commented, much to Carter's surprise.

Kalim had been using a lot of internet tutorials to be more independent, so he also updated himself on trends on the web… Jamil still couldn't decide if Kalim being addicted to MagiCam was good or bad.

"And a classic?" Ortho suggested with a smile. The young man with the shrouds had become a member of the club shortly before the Malleus OverBlot.

At that moment, Yuu entered. "Sorry guys, the decorations arrived and I wasn't going to risk leaving Grim alone with the glass things." He explained, leaving his coat on the coat rack.

"Don't worry Yuu-kun, we're still thinking about what to play." Cater said to the white haired one.

Yuu thought for a moment; He had managed to listen to Ortho's suggestion and thought it was a very good idea.

"And if we sing, we wish you a Merry Christmas?" The others looked at Yuu, it wasn't a bad idea.

"We can use a classic, with a little tweak." Yuu explained to them grabbing a microphone.

"Alright, you're in charge Yuu." Carter said to the aforementioned before turning on a LIVE for everyone to see. Yuu smiled mischievously as Kalim started playing the drums...

We wish you a Merry Christmas ~

The "voice of the gods" was instantly present. Everyone's clothes changed to a unique Santa Claus outfit for each one. For Kalim it was with two shades of red and round gold glasses, for Ortho it was blue with white and a tulle cape with snowflake embroidery, for Carter it was bright green with black and pearls in her hair, for Yuu it was the typical red and white and cool ski goggles.

We wish you a Merry Christmas ~

And a Happy New Year ~

The song was heard throughout the campus; filled everyone with joy. They organized themselves in the patio to decorate. Many were singing or humming with their hands full of golden tinsel.

We wish you the best day ever ~

And hope all your Christmas endeavors ~

At Heartslabyul, Trey watched in barely concealed horror as Riddle pulled out the fruitcake the aforementioned had made. Riddle cut a piece of the cake from him and then looked nervously at the green-haired man. The one with glasses forced a smile before trying the cake… It was because of the magic of friendship and the miracle of Christmas that Trey didn't have stomach pains.

Are super-fun, amazing and clever ~

And that your New Year's rocks too! ~

Many were using their brooms to fly around NRC and decorate it. The white already contrasted the black and gray of the building beautifully, but with the gold and green tinsel it looked much more impressive. Inside the building there were white LED lights as far as the eye could see and pine trees were added in the largest rooms. Meanwhile, in the teachers' lounge, they were enjoying a good eggnog… The principal was just crying in a corner because of the receipt of everything.

Oh, come, tell me what'cha doin' ~

All my relatives just flew in ~

In Pomefiore, Vil was reflecting on his life choices. The salon was in chaos with many enjoying to "let their hair down" and enjoy themselves. Epel led the party wearing an ugly sweater with lights while he sang about his family's traditions.

From Harveston and Shaftlands ~

For the holidays! ~

Neige had been included in the party. It had been a shock to have discovered that he was distantly related to Epel and now the two got along very well. Vil had no problems with this, after meditating and having Yuu with a therapist, he was able to come to terms with himself and accept that he and Neige were unique.

Both Christmas trees and menorahs ~

It can be confusing for us ~

Strangely enough, Epel managed to bring out the most sarcastic and stubborn side of Neige. The two always ended up arguing whether it was about musical tastes, food or clothes. And now they were fighting over which decorations were better. Luckily for Vil, Rook managed to calm things down by saying that both decorations were beautiful together; and he also brought cocoa, which Vil was happy about.

When we break into a chorus ~

Of olé, Olé ~

And oy vey, Oy vey ~

In the NRC cafeteria, many were preparing a magnificent Christmas dinner; Many were grateful that Lilia was busy and not in the kitchen.

Delicious meals I will try~

Groceries A through Z ~

Leona sang before taking a big bite out of a turkey leg. The lion was in a dream when the taster of the dinner was selected, to the jealousy of many. And Leona enjoyed teasing the others with moans of satisfaction at how delicious the food they brought him to try was.

Ruggie, get away from that punch bowl ~

Ruggie pouted as he was caught drinking the fruit punch while pocketing a couple of cookies.

I'm saving that for me ~

Hyena Boy, offended that his lazy friend wouldn't share punch, threw some figgy pudding into the punch bowl.

Sorry, sir ~

Ruggie sang mockingly because he knew that of all the fruits, Leona hated the fig the most. In the yard, Silver was sleeping peacefully among a small mound of snow. No one wanted to bother the boy during his nap, but they couldn't help but decorate him; They put a headband on him with reindeer antlers and shiny spheres in his ears.

We wish you a Silver Christmas ~

Yuu had changed it from "Perry" to Silver as a joke, but when he sang it he realized that the phrase was not so bad, a silver Christmas.

We wish you a Silver Christmas ~

And a (ZZZ~ Silver´s snoring ZZZ~) New year ~

Azul seriously needed a calculator; His had broken strangely shortly after Jade told him she needed to rest. Now, the lens guy was in her office doing the math by hand and with an abacus.

I want a calculator ~

Slash-Earnings-English Translator ~

"At this rate I finish in the new year." Blue thought tiredly as the music from the music club's LIVE was what kept him sane. The boy was also grateful that Yuu's magic decorated his office; he hadn't had much time to do it.

To find a common denominator ~

In all my tongues! ~

Mostro Lounge was enjoying free time with good music. Some were dancing dressed as elves and others were enjoying a good coffee or hot chocolate.

I will give you good hugs ~

To all you shrimps ~

Floyd with a big smile was trying to hug whoever he could, but everyone was avoiding him because of the mistletoe that the boy had hung on his head. Everyone knew how strong the hug and joking kiss they would receive from Floyd would be.

That's how I say "Merry Christmas" ~

I ain't good with words! ~

Floyd was finally able to grab someone to hug him and kiss him on the cheek, poor thing was Jamil. The one from Scarabia walked out calmly, still in shock, to go to the bathroom and wash his face with bleach.

I wish you would let me rule you ~

I'm going to teach you about anime ~

In Idia and Ortho's room, the oldest was dancing around the room while programming the lights, preparing the gifts he had for his brother, and turning on all of his monitors for the special Christmas events in all of his RPG games.

I won't sugarcoat or fool you ~

Your New Year's looks grim! ~

The oldest of the Shroud danced in the comfort of his chair, for him it was very noob to start singing at Christmas. Although he will deny to death that he sang Christmas songs from his favorite anime in the shower.

We wish your every endeavor ~

Makes this the best Christmas ever ~

The music club put the best of their voices into the final part of the song. Carter, Kalim and Ortho could tell that this was the best version of "we wish you a merry Christmas" they had ever heard. LIVE had ranked #1 in trends and throughout Twisted Wonderland they were dancing no matter what.

And we're all so glad that we will never ~

Mention figgy pudding ~

"Pudding?". Many people asked themselves when they heard the lyrics. Although they didn't give it importance; It was the best one of the best Christmas songs. And needless to say, they enjoyed the chorus at the end.

"Merry Xmas!". Yuu, Carter, Kalim and Ortho exclaimed into the cell phone before the LIVE ended...

Night Raven College had a good day that day and the decorations could be seen from the town on the island. And they were better than the other academy, to the envy of some in the RSA.

...

... As for Crowley, he stayed in his nest for the rest of the holidays…

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mayiwritesomething · 6 months

Text

Love is an Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 7)

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Wordcount: 2,1 k

Warnings: friends talking about sex, basically an allusion, no big deal.

A/N: In this slightly longer (and quite sad) chapter we have a Pedro who is a bit... let's say a jerk . but along the we will understand why this kind of behavior is happening, I swear haha

PART SIX

——————

Fear (Of the Unknown)

"Neeeeext," Jenny demanded, munching on a bag of Takis while perched on the couch. "I want all the juicy details, girl." You finally met the girls at Jenny’s room on Sunday night after spending the whole day at Pedro’s.

"Well, we have to give the guy credit," Amy chimed in, reclining at the end of Jenny's bed. "I can't even remember the last time you had a sleepover with a man. He must've really impressed you to change your mind."

"Hey, it's not like we were going at it like rabbits," you chuckled, the memory still fresh in your mind. "We talked a lot too. It just felt like any other day, you know? Even during sex, we found our rhythm quickly."

"Have you noticed how radiant her skin looks?" Amy observed, peering at you with curiosity as you sat in the middle of the bed.

"Fuck, you're glowing!" Jenny exclaimed in surprise. "We'll have to find out what his secret is." You simply laughed it off.

"He really paid attention to what I wanted, always checking if I was comfortable," you admitted shyly. "But he could also be quite dominant. And like I said, we had some deep conversations in between... activities," you finished with a silly grin.

"My friend, I have some news for you," Amy interjected with a laugh. "It's a good thing that you finally let yourself date someone you've known for a while, it is way better than with some random shit—and you’re going to have to swallow your pride and admit that this guy was good. You probably didn’t let him know, but he got you on your knees.”

"He got me at least three or four times that I can remember," you chuckled.

"Come on!" Jenny playfully tossed a Taki at you.

"I'd pay to see that," Amy teased. "YOU," she pointed at you, bursting into song, "Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there." She laughed.

"It was definitely a great point of view; I can't deny that." You smiled, feeling a shiver of excitement run down your spine.

"Amy, look at her. SHE IS FUCKING SMILING," Jenny pointed out, munching on her Takis.

"And to think he was so nervous about approaching her," Amy added, causing both you and Jenny to look at her in shock. She realized her mistake.

"WHAT?!" You and Jenny exclaimed simultaneously, eager for more information. Amy tried to backtrack, claiming it was obvious, but you pressed her for details.

"Please don't tell Timmy I told you this," Amy pleaded, disappointed in herself. "Remember that night you were feeling down, and he joined you on the patio? You two spent the night together. He was feeling confused and guilty for maybe mixing things up, so he confided in Timmy."

"And why are you telling this now, Amy?" You snapped, a hint of irritation in your voice. "I could've been having this great sex all this time. Single people also deserve happiness, you know," you added sarcasticly.

"Timmy only told me at the pub! before we went to check on you," Amy explained. "I was mad at him too, ok? But he told him that you're not someone to mess with. If he screws up and you decide to leave, you'll walk away just like you did before." Tim knew you; he had seen you broken before.

"Well… that explains a lot," you mused, recalling your conversations from the previous night when he decided to explain himself.

—

You jetted off to LA for a few days as planned, but true to your workaholic nature, you managed to squeeze in a business meeting during your vacation. After years of toiling on scores and earning some awards such as an Academy and a Golden Globe, you now have the luxury of being selective with your projects. The upcoming project was one you couldn't afford to pass up.

Your conversations with Pedro continued as usual, but as you boarded your flight on Monday, a nagging fear crept in—would he suddenly disappear? You didn't want that to happen; the memory of your past involvement with someone you had a prior connection to still haunted you.

Despite your reservations, you decided to give it a chance. Spending a long night with people you had no attachment to was much easier, you understood why the girls were excited to see you with someone you shared a connection with. And from your conversations with him, you learned that his friends felt the same.

A lingering question plagued your mind: Two different people, same traumas. Could it possibly work?

You pushed that thought aside, refusing to indulge in self-sabotage this time. You were enjoying yourself and didn't want to ruin a good thing. Upon returning to Canada, you and Pedro found yourselves in a rather funny situation—sneaking into each other's rooms like teenagers trying to evade their parents' watchful eyes.

Both of you excelled at maintaining a professional demeanor during the day, and no one would suspect that you were secretly meeting in the middle of the night. You were admired for your serious demeanor, while Pedro's easygoing nature was already known. Despite your differences, you both managed to keep your clandestine rendezvous under wraps, maintaining the facade of being nothing more than good friends.

In the past few months, you have been seeing each other at least once a week, a frequency that felt just right for you. With both of you thriving in your careers, it was important not to let things spiral out of control. So, when Pedro broached the topic of aligning your schedules to spend more time together, you felt a sense of relief. It was evident that he was trying to downplay his excitement about seeing you more often, but you welcomed the conversation, knowing it was a discussion you had also been considering.

You made sure to let him know that after the post-production phase, you would go on tour with Mended Fragments, so it would be harder to meet during these months, but with the tour ending, you would have a break, which he acknowledged and agreed, considering he had his own projects.

—

As usual, you meticulously planned the agenda for the following two weeks, which included a trip to New York to produce a quick soundtrack for a runway show while assisting your team via Zoom. Additionally, you had been invited to the show’s after-party, where Jenny would accompany you, presenting an excellent opportunity for networking and reconnecting with familiar faces, so you had a good feeling about it. During a post sex conversation, you discovered that Pedro would also be attending the same event.

"She's a good friend I made during my time in New York, so I'll finally have some free time to catch up with her. Oscar is also attending," Pedro mentioned, his gaze fixed on you as you both layed on the bed.

"Wow, I had no idea you knew her. Vivienne sounds like a lovely person," you replied. "She was blown away by Rick's show in Paris last season, so she reached out to him to know who the composer was, and that's how we met—even though you didn't ask," you added playfully, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

"I would ask, but you're quite quick, baby," he said, his demeanor distant as if his mind were elsewhere, which made you feel quite bothered.

"Is everything okay?" you asked softly, pulling away from his embrace to look him in the eyes.

"Yeah, it is; you just wore me out a bit, that's all," he replied, though you sensed he was not being entirely truthful. Or perhaps it was just your own mind playing tricks on you. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, you decided to let it go, so you kept talking.

"It'll be nice to see you there without anyone from work around," you said without hiding your smile. "I mean, being able to talk to you without having to sneak around like thieves." Your excitement was palpable.

"Well, baby...” Your smile faded, his tone felt weird. “I think it's best if we keep things as they are now. It's not like we have anything serious going on to show up at a party as a couple," he said, getting up to get dressed. His words stung like daggers, piercing through your skin. "It's almost 7 a.m. I should head back to my room."

"I never said anything about us being a couple, Pedro," you retorted, your tone sharp with frustration. "I simply mentioned meeting you at a party you were already planning to attend. I'm not suggesting anything." You were hurt by his sudden change in behavior.

"Okay. I just don't want us to misunderstand things," he said, noticing the glint of tears in your eyes. "I really enjoy what we have, baby, but it's more of a close friendship with benefits, isn't it?"

You couldn't understand why he was bringing this up out of nowhere. Perhaps it was the tequila you both had indulged in due to exhaustion. While you tried to make sense of his actions, you refused to throw a fit at that moment. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you beg for his affection.

"If that's how you see it," you replied curtly, masking your hurt with sarcasm. "I must have misunderstood, but thank you for clarifying. I guess I'll see you at the party then. I'll be leaving on Monday."

"I thought you were supposed to leave on Wednesday," he remarked, surprised. "So, I won't get to see you?" Closing the distance between you, he attempted to embrace you, now fully dressed, while you stood by the bed, wrapped in a blanket.

"No," you answered firmly.

"I'm going to miss this body," he said, adjusting your hair, his breath tinged with the scent of alcohol. You held back tears, refusing to let them fall.

"Is the body all you'll miss?" you asked, trying to maintain a facade of strength.

"Is there anything else to miss?" he replied, deliberately cruel. It felt as though he wanted to see you break down in tears, solely because of him. He wouldn’t let you win this argument.

"Leave,” you were about to break. “Go have a shower and eat something, you’re fuckin drunk.” Your voice was trembling. You were also quite dizzy.

His gaze lingered on you, taken aback by your response. It wasn’t the plea for attention he anticipated. Why hadn’t you begged for his affection? Though he wanted to express his regret and admit he'd miss you, he needed validation from you. It was then that he realized he had screwed things up. You held the door open, silently urging him to depart. As he reluctantly exited your room, he reached out, attempting to grasp your hand.

"Please, just go," you stated firmly, unwavering in your resolve. And so, he left. Without a word.

Two hours later, after shedding all the tears you had in you, a message from Pedro lit up your phone screen. "Sorry for what I said." You decided to ignore him, but the persistent ringing of your phone indicated that he was calling. Reluctantly, you answered. "What?"

"Babe, I'm sorry.” He started, “I shouldn't have drunk that much. I was upset about work shit that happened yesterday, and I took it out on you—It's not your fault, please,” he added. ” I was a jerk, and I'm sorry for being mean to you. I'm really sorry, baby."

"Okay, anything else?" you responded coldly.

"Baby, I'm fuckin scared—what we have... it scares me," his voice quivered, betraying his own tears. “I don’t want to fuck things up; I truly don’t—”

"Listen, I always make an effort to see things from your perspective, Pedro. I hope you can do the same for me now," You wanted to express more, but you held back. "I don't want to talk to you right now, okay? Can you respect that?"

"Babe, please..."

"Can you respect that?" you reiterated firmly.

"I can. I'm really sorry."

"Goodbye. See you at Vivienne's," you abruptly ended the call. All you wanted to do was cry. Little did you know Pedro was doing the same: crying about the cruel words he said to you. He wanted it to be just a friend with benefits kind of relationship, but deep down he knew it wasn’t, and he was scared. You both were.

“Imagine two complete strangers

Who suspect they were meant to be

Both in need of love and affection

Yet their suspicions prevent something heavenly

Fear takes control — fear of the unknown”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedrohub #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro x reader

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echoedcrosshairs · 1 year

Text

Anatomically Defective - Echo x Fem Reader

Summary: Pre-Order 66 the boys walk into 79’s to blow steam and you catch Echo’s eye 🩶Smut with a Fluff Plot♥️

Warning: NSFW, Crude Language, PiV, Toy, Echo’s history, drinking, self conscious Echo (esteem issues), 69, oral (f receiving)

word count: 4852

Part Two

"I'm going to talk to her if you don't make up your mind," Crosshair scoffed watching his brother stare longingly at the pretty girl at the counter.

"You're not her type," the bar tender laughed at Crosshair setting down another round of drinks, "I haven't seen her go home with just anyone and you come on very strong," he said walking away chucking more, "Refill, love?" the bartender said tapping your shoulder showing you a blue drink in perfect view of the squad behind him.

"Thanks, Arthur," you said deliciously eyeing the mysterious drink and the group of men staring at you, "Did that on purpose didn't ya?" you laughed lowly so they couldn't hear.

"The frosty one, Crosshair is kind of an ass but the ladies never shut up about him afterwards, but you might like the half droid, Echo. Nice Trooper, one track mind for duty though," he admitted walking back around the bar, "just thought I'd point them out."

"Their clones?" You asked dumbfounded trying and failing to keep yourself from looking at them one more time before wide mouth gawking at him.

"It surprised me too when I found out, but the it explains why they all got the same brown color."

Actually Echo's eyes are more golden then brown, "Tell me about Echo," you asked looking back at him again before downing the dangerously sweet drink.

"War hero of the citadel rescue and Anaxes, blown up trying to defend the ship, captured, revived then experimented on, rescued and then got right back into the fight... and helped finally defeat Trench. I honestly don't know much more then that, I never met him pre... blown up," he admitted, "I think you'll get along."

"Give him one of these on my behalf," you said swirling the empty glass, "Also, another one if you kindly have the time."

"Echo," Arthur said setting down the glass, "It's from Y/N, but I know you know that because you watched me make both of them."

"Are you serious?" Crosshair said watching Arthur setting the matching drink down in front of Echo, "You're barely human and don't even have a-"

"Percentage wise he is correct about the first part. To think of it, I don't think Echo has had relations since he went-" Tech paused "boom. Is pleasure even plausible given the lack of anatomical parts?"

"I don't want to know," Arthur said excusing himself and walking around the bar, quickly pouring himself a shot and downing it, "Don't eveeen want to know."

"What?" You asked taking a sip of the drink, eyeing him cautiously.

"Nothing... nothing at all."

You roll your eyes at him. He leaves you to go poor drinks for a couple other regulars clients at the other end of the counter. It was so far a peaceful night, to early for the rowdy troopers to show up and but late enough for the regular fun ones to show up. You finished the drink, eyed Echo who was still staring at the drink. Well I don't think he's that interested, he hasn't even had a sip of it. You set the drink on the counter along with a few credits and made your way over to the slowly filling dance floor.

"Block!" You said running into the robot DJ getting groovy on the dance floor, grabbing him one of the girls could, "Mind if I cut in?"

"Hello, Y/N. Are you enjoying tonight's musical selection? I thought the alternating between slow and fast would create an interesting rhythm."

The song switched into a slow one, he reached out coldly and grabbed your hand, "I actually really like it, it's creating a dynamic atmosphere. It is most excellent," you said enjoying the dance, "Although it looks like some people don't understand it."

"As protocol dictates I must ask that I return to my post and adjust according, did you enjoy the dance?" Block asked.

"I did, thank you," you said letting go.

You laughed watching him walk away noticing eyes on your back, you ignored them and sat yourself in the dark corner of the bar furthest from them. You watched the dance floor in anticipation watching everyone enjoy the build up and the fall of music. The erotic dancing then fade into adorning swaying, watching the confused troopers was kind of fun. Arthur put another blue drink in-front of you saying it's on the house and apologized for being turned down. You told him it's okay, the night was young.

Echo watched her slide her empty drink towards the lip of the table and brought his gaze back to the glass. His brother's had a point, what could a girl like that want with a mess like him. Tech's words were cutting into him like a vibro blade, It's true I haven't been with a woman since, it's not that I don't want too... I just don't know if I can and she'd have to be very special to understand. He brought his eyes up noticing you were gone.

"She's with the DJ droid on the dance floor talking about the music selection," Hunter said finding you immediately, "Why didn't you go over there?"

"He's not a man that's why," Crosshair scoffed taking a drink, "Maybe I'll give it a shot," he said putting the glass down trying to stand up before Wrecker pulled him back down.

"Don't even think about it," Wrecker said with a yank.

Hunter was still staring at a silent Echo waiting. They looked to each other often for decisions but he didn't seem to trust him to go after it, "The girl showed interest in you and is over there dancing with a droid. I don't think the rest of us are her type," he said trying to encourage him, nonchalantly pointing at where you and Block were noticeable, "I would if I was you."

Echo watched Block nod at you before retaking his station. He looked at Hunter who gave him a nod. He got up which got him an off handed comment from Crosshair, You can keep her entertained and I can dick her down, which got him a loud thud of a punch from Wrecker. Echo scowled leaving the table, 'Was that a completely necessary comment?' he heard Tech say. Echo searched the booths for your face but the bright blue liquid at the end bar caught his attention.

"On the house. Don't know if he's just self conscious or more of droid then he appears to be, next time I won't try to help."

He watched you pick up the glass and swirling it watching the blue sparkle dance, "The night's young, won't let being turned down effect my night."

Echo watched you take a drink, looking around but didn't seem to notice him before looking down back at the glass. It is effecting you. What am I doing? Echo shook his head, took a breath trying to talk himself into walking up over when he left a shove behind him. 'Go' Crosshair hissed at him before stalking off. Oh, he was just trying to make me. Asshole.

"Sorry about that," Echo said shocking you causing you to shake a little and your drink slipped on you, "Fark I am so sorry," he said reaching and grabbing you some napkins. This is what I was afraid of, idiot, idiot, idiot.

"It's just a dress," you laughed blotting up the tiny spill, "I didn't even see you walk up," you said putting the wet napkins on the counter, "changed your mind?" you asked giving him a side glance looking at the sunken expression on his face before wiping up the counter.

"I just haven't had anyone take an interest in me since," Echo said raising his data port arm and sliding into the stool, "I am actually flattered."

"Really?" You said wide eyeing him, you looked at him closer. Sure he was paler, had a cyber connection relay system around his head but he still was insanely beautiful, everything else was just a bonus, "You're one of the cutest guys who's walked in here for a long time."

"She'd know, spends all of her free time here," Arthur laughed putting a glass infront of Echo.

"Dude... I live next door," you laughed.

"I just like giving you a bad time, keep this up though I might as well put you on the civvie payroll," he laughed walking away, "Don't make me regret this."

Your face flushed red, you put your hand over your check to try to cover it when you looked him equally as red but not bothering to try to hide it. You giggled a little bit removing your hand and putting both of them on the counter instead, "So what's with Frosty's glare?" You said noticing Crosshair looking in your direction.

"Crosshair? That's just his face."

"Not my type," you laughed winking at him making the glare worse.

"Got a thing for droids?" Echo asked nervously.

"What gave it away?" You laughed more thinking it was a joke, noticing the serious and the solemn look on his face observing you, "Oh, that wasn't a joke to you. I'm sorry. No, I don't like guys who think they can get anyone. Anyway he looks like a piece of work and not pleasant to be around."

"He's not," he laughed, it was warm like a planet that had two suns, "But he did shove me over here and in his own way told me to give it a shot. Sorry I saw you with Block and kind of assumed plus," Echo gave a small forced chuckle raising the arm again.

"Block? Maybe if his interface was better, at least I know he's reliable. Arthur wasn't kidding though, I spend a lot of time here so sometimes I give my input on the music when crowd watching especially when he changes it up and they don't seem to like it."

"Wait so you DO have a thing for droids?" He asked wide eyed with a smile this time.

"Guess I'll have to figure what out you are," you smiled into your drink sipping on it, "But that doesn't matter, it's who you are that matters. Nothing else matters, to me at least."

Echo's smile got bigger, maybe someone who actually sees me, "I liked that."

"Sooooo, how's it going," Wrecker asked tapping Hunter for his attention.

"I like her," Hunter said pulling his attention back to the squad, "She's definitely different."

"Excuse me, I'll be back momentarily. I- forgot something on the ship," Tech said drinking the drink and getting up.

"You? Forget something? Funny" Crosshair chuckled eyeing them at the end of bar.

"About you tell me about yourself," you smiled at him.

"Not to much to say that isn't easy information to find, I'm CT-1409, Echo. I was apart of Domino squad-" he started before you cut him off.

"That's not what I meant, how did you get the name Echo? What do you like to do in your free time? Favourite battle droid to fight, normal stuff."

"Normal stuff? Back when I was a shiny, I use to repeat every order given so I became Echo, hated it for the longest time but now I think it is the most perfect name my brothers could have given me."

"Oh," you asked turning your seat towards him.

"I'm the only echo left of Domino squad, last one still standing all of my brothers... gone. Echo of a man... I don't know, it just fits. For fun I use to enjoy reading regulation manuals, that's kind of boring to most people."

"It's... a beautifully poetic name," you said stunned, "as for the manuals, it just proves you've always been smart. People forgot knowledge comes from text just as it does from experience."

"What about you?" He asked.

You told Echo about yourself, his eyes seemed to continuously get more and more golden. He hung on every word you said time to time asking questions. Unlike other guys he seemed genuine and wasn't obviously undressing you with his eyes. Although I wouldn't mind if he did.

"Do you want to dance?" You asked, the liquid courage taking effect.

Echo stared down at his socket arm, "I'm not sure if-" he said awkwardly.

You grabbed his hand and elbow and dragged him to the dance floor, placing his arm around you and kept his fingers intertwined with yours, "Come on, scared?" you teased.

"Of making a fool out of myself."

You rested your head on his shoulder, "I'm not going to judge you, if anyone says anything they'll will regret it," you could hear his heart rate speed up and it speed up even further when he rested his jaw and cheek on you, "I take it confidence isn't your strong suit?" you whispered.

"Compared to my brothers I am... anatomically defective, more machine then man."

"I think you're more of a man then most of men in here."

Your hand moved tighter around his back and his breath hitched for a second before regulating. What was that about? You remember the padded circle your fingers moved over, Oh, his ports. His hand held yours a little tighter. The sensation was like a small jolt of electricity trying down him, "I don't know what that was," he whispered embarrassed.

You moved your hand again and it happened again, "I think it's cute," you giggled feeling his hand tighten again, "What does it feel like?"

"It feels like electricity... it's... good," he said hoping you wouldn't look up at the red across his face, at least now I know it's still plausible.

"Updateeee?" Wrecker asked watching them another with an ear to ear grin, "He look's happy."

"He does" Crosshair admitted.

Tech walked with a large punch with a project he'd been working on for some time, he looked at where his brothers were staring and found them on the dance floor. He gave a small smile when he caught Echo's eye and quietly walked forward and clipped it to his belt, "you might need it later," he whispered before returning to his squad.

"What was that about?" You asked looking at the large pouch.

"For once I have no idea what he's been tinkering on, but I know this isn't the place to open it."

"Want to go for a walk and see or... we can go back to my place," you suggested bashfully.

"Whatever you're comfortable with," he offered picking up his head.

You squeezed his hand, pulling back and smiling at him dragged him to the door, "I'd like the second open."

"What was that?" Hunter asked.

"Given Echo's lack of anatomy, I supply crafted him that anatomy."

"So... you made him a dick?" Wrecker said confused.

"Precisely."

You wrapped both of your arms around Echo's taking about the legend known as Domino squad and who they were and his loathing of Commando Droids and the Techno Union. You guided him into the building of your apartment quietly as you let him ramble about his adventures with Clone Force 99 but he missed his 501st brothers but it was his duty to let them go. You steered both of you up to the higher floor where your residency was.

"It's not much but it's home," getting him to chuckle at all of the manuals on your book shelf, "there's always something to learn" you said dragging him to the couch and turning on the holo.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who enjoys learning," he chuckled sitting. Echo's hand grabbed the pouch off his belt and stared at it, What was so important... It can't be... can it? Echo carefully opened the package so only his eyes could it, his jaw fell agape and he stared it for a moment before quickly closing it and putting it back on his belt.

"And?" You asked watching several emotions and questions play across his face.

"It's an uh... indecent attachment," Echo said staring at the roof for a moment contemplating why Tech made it, how long as he been waiting to give it to him and if this was the wrong time to find out.

"That's actually kind of sweet," Echo heard you say and was shocked bringing his attention back to you plopping yourself gently into his lap, "We don't have to use it if you don't want too or I'm more then happy just sitting here and talking for the rest of the night."

"Cute girl in my lap? I'm happy with either too," the shameless flirt came out before he even realized what he said, he smiled that part of his old self was still there, "Plus I don't know if it even works-"

You moved yourself and straddled him instead place you mouth by his neck see what he'd do. Echo tried to keep his breathing even, It's been forever since a woman's been this close. She obviously doesn't seem to mind, I need to stop minding. Echo opened up his neck in offering, letting his hand move your hips, "You really don't mind do you-" the pressure of your lips on his neck silenced him.

You kissed up his neck and pressed harder into the spots that made his breathing quicken while doing your best to make sure no marks were left, "Not in the slightest," you purred bringing your hands up to the ports on the top of his neck seeing if they had the same effect, "How about you kiss me and we'll see how tonight goes."

Echo smirked a little knowing he was a damn good kisser, he moved his hand to your mouth and pulled you towards him. He took your bottom lip between his putting pressure on them and pulling you closer with his lips. Your hands started tracing around the ports, his breathing got more shallow, "You really seem to like that" you breathed between kisses.

"It's pleasurable," he admitted.

"I thought so," you purred leaning back into him, "take this off," you said running your hand down the front of his uniform.

You saw the momentary confidence on his face fade but he complied taking it off, exposing pale skin and a thin sunken torso. You grabbed his face and pulled him back to your mouth before letting your hands trace around chest and ports, "You're handsome," you breathed resting your forehead on his staring down at him, "lay down," you said standing up and pushing him down on the couch. He looked at you but laid down his heart pounding. You crawled back onto his lap, moving your mouth down his neck again and then down his chest kissing everywhere while your hands played with his ports causing him to let out a small quiet moan. Your pressed your mouth into his chest mouth and quicken the tracing of your fingers making a silently loader moan escaped him.

The feeling in Echo started building up, every second making it harder to think. He sat up and pulled you up trying to center himself, "How about somewhere a little more comfortable for both of us and something a little more reciprocal?" he suggested nervously. You took his hand and guided him towards the bedroom, "Did you want to try it?" Your eyes flickering down to the pouch. He smiled putting his hand on your strap of your dress, "Wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I use to be quiet talented with mouth."

You took his hand and used it to removed the strap, "Prove it," you said taking the other strap off your self.

He stared you up and down blinking, mouth slightly watering, "Yes, ma'am," he watched you crawl on the bed waiting for him. Maker help me. He crawled on the bed, grabbed and kissed your hand up to your wrist and placed it on the back on his head nuzzling himself between your legs.

You let out a small 'ah' noise once his mouth made contact. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth seeing how wet you were for him already. You looked mildly embarrassed but he love, your fingers finding the ports and stroking them. Echo moaned into you, the warmth of it causing you twitch mildly for him. He ran his tongue up scooping gently into your soaked opening, savoring the sweet bland slick that was because of him. You felt him trail his tongue up to the delicate section of nervous sticking out, he adjusted his lips around it making a little vacuum seal with his mouth and twirling his tongue around it.

"Kark" you moaned your hips tilted into his mouth, pushing him harder against you.

He took his non useful arm around your leg and pulled you closer to him, letting his tongue coast up and down coaxingly. He could feel the electric feeling building up again, he brought his fingers to the the slit of the opening letting you cover his fingers before pushing them inside. He feel your clit engorging, content with himself that you were really attracted to him. He worked his lips up and down while his fingers tried to find the pace and motion you preferred.

"There," the word trembled out your head going further back into the pillow.

You could feel his arm trembling around your leg, you stroke him faster. Maker does this feel good. He took a chance, ever so gently stroking you upward with his teeth, "Echo," you moaned coming undone on his face with the surprising sensation. He pulled you closer to his face, his nose resting on you and his fingers not stopping as you road them through the sensation. You started shaking harder and he started shaking. You felt the moment the surge took him, his mouth came but his fingers went deep as they could, "Mesh'la," he let out shakily his breathing ragged. You cupped his cup cheek staring at him still panting staring at the bliss across his face and his big golden eyes staring at you. He carefully removed his hand still shaking, he licked each of his fingers and his eyes rapidly blicking he left out another small delish moan.

"I am jealous of whatever is going on in that neural connection," you scooted over creating space for him, "join me?"

He moved himself next to you, laying on his back his breathing still ragged, you rolled up and put yourself around his data and interlaced your legs with his. Echo was still reeling, his whole body felt like it was adrift on pleasure cruise, when you brought your hand to his chest he shuttered with a groan escaping. He brought your hand to his mouth, kissed and put it back on his chest covering it with his own. She's so beautiful, his hand tighten around yours and his arm also wrapped you closer.

"Handsome," you mumbled turning more into him, "and so so so talented."

"You're so beautiful," he looked admiring you, "I'm glad you think so. How about another one?" he offered.

"Maker please."

"Do you want to try it?” Echo asked awkwardly looking down at the pouch.

“We can just go see if it works, or I’ll happily keep your face between my legs,” you smiled.

Echo pulled himself up and finished stripping his leg armor and blacks. He watched you examine him, “See something you like?” he said slowly and awkwardly opening the bag.

“I really do think you’re handsome,” you smiled sitting up pulling him back towards you resting your face against his stomach and running your hands down the cold of his legs, “Nothing to be self conscious about or embarrassed about around me,” you said pulling back so he could fiddle with the attachment.

Echo attached two tiny connectors to the ports closes on each side of his lower stomach and one on each thigh, “So figured out what I am yet?” He teased smiling feeling the attachment connect and accepted into his system.

“Well… what do you want to be?” you asked pulling him back onto the bad.

“I’m definitely a happy man,” he kissed you until your head laid against the pillow, “Where I currently want to be however? Definitely in you,” Echo moved onto his elbow, letting his free hand trail down you while he took your pebbled nipple into his mouth letting his fingers drift back inside, “Do you know that you taste good?” He whispered into your ear.

You squirmed under him, his touch and the comment making a physical reaction. Bringing your hand back to his head, “Echo,” you breathed feeling his touch start being rougher and faster. You could feel yourself coating his fingers, he smiled pulling them out and using them to stroke the attachment and his stomach tense, you removed his hand and stroked it yourself. You moved your legs around his and flipped him on his back on the bed the smile turning into a grin, “How about a test run?” You worked it up and down watching parts of his body tense and release.

He tried flipping you but you planted your knees deeper into the bed in defiance, “Why don’t you back up then and put that tasty pussy back in my face?” He said enjoying the sensation but wanted it to be fair. Did I really just say that? After all this time I’m still the same. He watched you slowly turn around putting your legs back his arms and painfully to slow put your self on his mouth. ‘Maker’ he moaned feeling your grip tighten on him. Echo let his tongue slide in and out of you, twirling it around the inner edges of the split before working his mouth back down to your pulsating need for him. He hummed against it the small vibration making you press your self a little further down on his face, he let his hand trail around your body enjoying the sensation of your skin against his. He felt his leg start to lightly drum against the base board of the bed, I guess it’s my turn first this time.

You watched his leg drum and the other one start to quiver, you moved the hand that wasn’t stroking him to a connector on his leg wondering if he could feel both or if his body only registered one at a time. Surprised with your self you picked yourself off of him so you could see his face, he grabbed you and pulled you back down holding you there. Someone’s enjoying himself. You felt the moment he stopped, the orgasm take over. You gently continued to stroke him until his hand gently begged you to stop. You moved yourself back between his legs, you could see the speckling of sweat glistening his body and some of you on the corner of his mouth which took him no time to find and lick up with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes trailed around his body, the pale skin, big eyes, the bigger then normal lips and his jawline and cheeks sculpted like the maker made him himself. For me. His breathing was raspy but you wanted the rise and fall of his chest putting your hand on the his lungs slightly feeling the mechanical system underneath try to catch up.

“Do you think I’m a man?” He asked weakly, looking at your hand knowing what you were feeling.

“I do. One I wouldn’t mind getting to know more whenever your around.”

“I think I’d bore you,” he admitted.

You leaned up kissing across his collar bones, “Rules, regulations, reports, none of that could bore me as long as you were apart of them,” you paused leaning over his neck, “You’re the only man who hasn’t bored me,” you said kissing the base of his neck slightly pulling on it waiting to see if he’d stop you from making a mark but his moan and hand squeezing your hip was the green light, “You are not lesser Echo” you whispered before turning your attention back to his neck.

“I’d bring you with me if I could,” he said picking you up with the handful of hip he hand a grip on moving you back and plunging his cock attachment into you, his hips spreading bucking all of it into you, “No one’s made me feel like this before,” his voice sincere gentle and softly moving you up and down him. He brought the side of his non useful arm to your face nudging you up, watching you nuzzle the arm realizing how different and understanding you were compared to everyone.

Cautiously he moved himself back on top of you resting his forehead against yours, nearly pulling himself all the way out and rushing himself back in, “Is it comfortable?” he whispered.

“I wouldn’t be able to tell your anatomically defective” you teased, “If it feels good to you, that’s all I care about.”

“I care about you.”

“And I you.”

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androgynousblackbox · 7 months

Text

Welcome to Hazbin Vale. 6 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N2qk6VZokx0 Song on the background] "Greetings, everyone, good morning to all of you. Apologies for the late broadcast, there was a sudden issue I had to take care of that couldn't wait. Now thankfully it's all sorted out now so there is no need to talk more about it.

In fact, the less we talk about it all the better. If we can just pretend that never happened at all that would be just peachy. I am a profesional after all. A profesional who would never mix up personal affairs into his job.

Absolutely not. You all can trust on that.

But why dwell on nonsense when we can start the day at last? I hope our selection of music while you were waiting on your dear radio host was at the very least tolerable for all of our listeners. I didn't choose any of it so I can only hope. If they are any like the music that is on the background right now, then probably you all didn't had such a bad time.

Good. I am glad for that.

And the issue that is totally sorted out and that I totally didn't mix with my job can find her zippy cup on the left. Right there where I put it. Follow the direction of my hand, dear. That is right. Excelent.

Mmm. Let's start with the first order of business. I am sure that a good number of you already know, but for those who don't, today we are welcoming in our beautiful community a new resident.

Remember how we talked about the death of the old man Jenking? That poor man whose mental capabilities were already on their way out and made him say all kinds of crazy ideas at the pub? Well, apparently he wasn't just a noise maker.

He was also a grandpa. Which does explains the boxes full of baby stuff in the attic now that I think about it. Not that I ever saw them, by the way.

Anyway, because of that he had his own grandson that now has decided to come reside on the old house. I even had the pleasure of running into him during my morning stroll while he was bringing up some stuff inside.

I would have stayed there and talk some more to rely you more information, but as we established before, I had other things to take care of. I did managed to tell him to tune in with the rest of us, so hopefully he is listening right now.

Are you listening? Are you really listening?

Don't open that folder.

My friends, please give your warmest welcome to our new neighbor, Anthony.

I am sure he will be a valuable member of this community and won't cause any sort of problem for anyone. Hopefully he will remember our safety guide to keep himself safe.

Don't feed the raccoons, unless you have to, then denying them food will only make things worst. Remember to close your garbage can because nobody has to care about your business and, above all else, have fun! We love fun around these parts!

I hope you find that our beautiful town Hazbin Vale just about as beautiful and wonderful as we all do. There is a good reason why is that here where you can find your best friends…

What is that?

Oh, a phone is ringing.

Our own phone in fact!

I had no idea that we had a phone here or it was still working! Nobody has ever used it before. What a delightful surprise. Well, I guess since this listener took the time to give us a call, we should respond accordingly.

What button was it…

Oh, right, that one.

Hello and good morning, dear listener. You are on the air right now. What can your favorite radio host do for you on this lovely day?"

"Hi, sweetie. How are you and Charlie doing over there? I wanted to call you over, but you don't have your own cellphone so this was the best second option. Hope that is okay.

That is a lot of static right now. Hello, can you hear me?"

"We are both fine. I hear you perfectly well. Everything is fine and oh… yes, that is your dad. Do you want to…? Sure, why not. Just give me a second.

Alright, here we go. Dear listeners, for the first time in a long time we have a guest coming in the air with us today. Everyone be nice and pay attention to our very own small resident Charlie Morningstar. Say hi, Charlie."

"Hi, daddy!"

"Hi, duckling. How is my little princess doing?"

"I am good! I made a drawing of you and Alie like duckies!"

"You did? Aww, I bet it's the cutest thing I have ever seen. Make sure to show it to me when I go to pick you up. I am glad you are having a good time, baby.

Alastor, I just wanted to thank you so much for taking care of her so suddenly. It's my fault, I forgot that I had this reunion with the investors today and I didn't call the babysitter the night before so I really didn't have a lot of options. You really saved my life there."

"It's fine, unexpected things happen all the time. We have a lot of space here and Charlie is a good kid so she won't cause any trouble. Right, dear?"

"Nope! Alie wanted me to tell you that he gave me cookies and limonade! I liked the ones with strawberry yam inside."

"Off air, dear. You were supposed to say that off air."

"That is wonderful, duckling. I will try to wrap this up as fast as I can. What do you both want for lunch today? Alastor, you are coming of course."

"If you insist."

"Can I have burgers, daddy?"

"My baby girl can have anything she wants. Alastor, burgers are okay with you too?"

"Sure, sounds good to me."

"Then burgers for everyone it is. With some fries on the side?"

"Yes, fries!"

"Ha ha, I knew it. Alright, I will get them as soon I can. Right now I see that the bunch of old geezer coming back to the office so I should be going too.

I-I mean, the respectable members of the board! Who I totally respect and don't look a day older than 20!"

"Nice save, darling."

"Oh shush you. I will see you both later. Love you lots, Charlie, be nice with Alastor! Alastor… you should really do something about that static. I am sure that is not coming from my side. Yes, I am coming! Talk to you soon! Bye!"

"Bye, daddy!

The noise is gone now, Alie."

"Well, would you look at that. The issue was solved by itself and that means we don't have to talk about it ever again. How convenient.

You are rubbing your eyes a lot, dear. Do you have some kind of infection or are you sleepy?

That was a big yawn you let out just now."

"MMmmno sleepy."

"Well, you can be not sleepy on the couch over there if you want. Grab my coat if you get cold. I won't take too long here. I just need to take care of a couple of things and then we can get you home."

"Okay…"

"Good girl. Down you go.

That was our guest star of today, dear listeners, our very own Charlie Morningstar. Isn't she a doll?

But anyway, I know we are all eager to get back on track so…

Another call?

Well, this day is just full of surprises, isn't it? Wonder who that could be. Greetings, dear listener, you are in the air right now."

"Hey. So. What was that about being a professional that doesn't mix personal affairs with his job?"

"Oops! Clumsy me!

I accidentally pressed the button to end that call. But don't worry, officer Husker. I am sure that while you were wasting your time making that call only a handful of criminals got away. I am so glad to know that our tax money is being put to such good use.

You are still on time to catch them though, if you start moving fast. It could be a good exercise after eating all those donuts. If we are ever so lucky you might be able to find a manhole to fall into from the streets and get lost in for all of eternity. Wouldn't that be so grand?

If I do ever need advice on how to be a waste of air, I will be sure to call you.

Don't push your luck, old pal.

Ah.

Are we done with the unexpected interruptions now? Are people going to stop requiring my attention? Mmm, mister telephone? Some people can be so rude and then they just advantage of your good manners, dear lsiteners. You give them a hand and they take a shoulder. Must the suffering of yours truly never end?

I think we are good now to finally return to our schedule.

As I was trying to say before a much less wanted interruption, the cemetery as of today is also off limits for everyone.

Try to avoid it as much as possible and, like always, don't pay any mind to any sounds, no matter how loud or frequent comes from there. There is nothing to worry about at all. If you find yourself on the same street, change your ways. You will thank me later.

Your dead will be taken care of anyway. Just leave them where they are and walk away. As fast as you can.

The workers are working to get rid of some pests just to feed a few mouths that have been hungry for far too long.

The moon is smiling upside down for all of us. Let's be in our best behavior tonight and not turn it into a frown. The night doesn't want to claim anyone else, it won't need to, so let's try to come back to home early and have heavy, uninterrupted dreams.

Goodness me, is that really all the time we have left? Where did all those minutes go? I was planning to add a little something there, a bit of a friendly words for our new resident, but I guess it will have to be for tomorrow. For now, I can tell you this, Anthony.

Don't let your curiosity get the better of you. No matter how tempting. No matter how much you want to.

It could be the last thing that you do.

Now, for the weather…"

#appleradio #radioapple #duckiedeer #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel au #lucifer x alastor #alastor x lucifer #my fanfic

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keymintt · 3 months

Note

Not sure if this has been asked before but, how did you start doing professional work for traffic cabinets? Was there some sort of job fair or exhibit that you advertised your art at and the city decides "this guy is really good, let's get his art in public"?

OKAY so the thing with public art is it's all local and every city kinda does it differently, but so far in my career all of the public art stuff i've done has been application-based

this got long so i'll go into details about what the searching/application process looks like under the cut but tldr: a big part of finding work like this is knowing where to look for local opportunities and submitting applications

generally the cities/towns/whatever will put out a call for artists (also sometimes called a request for qualifications or RFQ) that's basically like "hey we need some artists to do this, this is how much we'll pay you and the details for the project" and from there they'll link a form (or sometimes give you an email address) to apply to where you submit stuff like your contact info, resume/portfolio, sometimes references, and usually a letter of interest on the project

because i submit applications to things pretty regularly, i'm usually good about keeping track of what i use to apply to things—this includes what i've written for applications and stuff like image descriptions—so when I apply to new things it's a lot of copypasting and editing things to explain how i'm a fit for the specific project yadda yadda it's cover letters. it's basically cover letters. pain and agony

in terms of finding the applications, i'm signed up for several local newsletters and arts organizations, but i also check sites like the az commission of the arts (bc i'm az-based) for their updated list of opportunities pretty regularly, as well as searching for stuff like [city] arts and culture and poking around the .gov sites to see if they have an arts opportunities page. in all honesty a pretty big component of finding this work is knowing where to look, and unfortunately if you're doing public art a) it's not always listed on social media b) the best places to look/start are local, and that differs for everyone so i can't say like "oh look here and you'll find something"

once you apply it usually takes awhile to hear back (they usually give you a timeline on the initial application of how long it takes to review all the applications), but i've found people in these fields are good about letting you know when you didn't get something so you can move on with your life lol. atm i'm waiting to hear back from....over five things so i'm kind of always doing this "applying to projects while i'm working on other projects" song and dance which is honestly just...kind of the freelance artist experience?

i feel the need to mention that public art stuff like this consists of about...2/5 of my yearly income...? i'm not solely making a living off of doing these things bc i also usually have teaching and ttrpg illustration stuff in the mix BUT there are artists who can and do make a living off public art and murals and whatnot. i simply cannot resist the urge to stick my finger into any pie i'm even remotely qualified for

working with public art stuff is also that same thing with a lot of fields where once you get some sort of experience, it's easier to get more jobs, BUT as an artist your portfolio can do a lot of speaking for you, even if you don't have experience with public art specifically. take my traffic boxes for example: i've done three of them now and have a fourth lined up, i know that if there's an application for one i have the exact experience they're looking for and will in all likelihood be one of the selected artists at this point. however with my very first one, i obviously didn't have a traffic box in my portfolio so i included a digitally illustrated city banner i designed, several other digital illustrations of mine (bc they wanted a digital artist), and a mural i had painted on a 3d object (to demonstrate i could design with 3d forms in mind), and together these things all helped my credibility as someone who could do this project. as much as i loathe writing letters of interest these are also good places to elaborate on how your portfolio can connect to the project

also with public art starting local is also your best bet at first (not to say you can't land other opportunities right off the bat though), bc people like their artists to know the local scene. i have the experience to back me up more nowadays, but when i was first applying to things you bet your ass i was all like 'i love it here and want to give art back to my local community bc i'm an artist and i'm fresh out of college yaaaaayyyy' you don't have to mean this when you say it, but they don't have to know

thank you for the ask !! and best of luck with any of your potential artistic endeavors (to anyone reading this)!! feel free to ask any more questions, i'm happy to elaborate on anythin btw for anyone :>

#insidiousclouds-2 #asks #it's so funny bc my general perception of myself is 'guy who fucks around and draws pictures'#but then i write stuff like this out and i'm yet again forced to confront the fact that i am a semi-competent professional in my field hsdh #also i think i specify this enough but. public art varies so much location to location #i'm starting to branch out into less local opportunities but there is a lot to be said about me being fortunate enough to live in an area #where there are these arts opportunities. the traffic boxes specifically are a popular thing here in recent years so idk abt other places #also sorry if there are typos

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sequestered-song-skirmish · 1 year

Text

Round 3 Poll 13

Use My Fkn Pronouns：　「I first met Allegra on the bus in 8th grade. I thought they were cool, but I didn't approach them for a couple months because I couldn't figure out if they were a boy or a girl. When I finally did talk to them, they told me they were nonbinary and explained what that meant. They asked me why knowing their gender was so important to me that I was afraid to talk to them, and that question spurred a series of epiphanies that lead me to who I am today.

The conversation moved on. We giggled about how mad their mom was that an *allergy medication* of all things used the same name just a couple years after she had her baby. They told me that they were a guitarist and that someday they were gonna be a rockstar. I said that when it happens, people will finally think of the musician first and not the medication, and we cheered.

Being openly gay and trans in a red state is fucking daunting now, but it was even moreso a decade ago. Allegra was *the* out queer kid in our class. Having the grit to withstand that kind of social abuse while remaining a goofy and deeply kind person speaks to their character. They used their music to carve out a precedent for the classes below us: showing them a queer person can be out and well-liked and successful while still having personal boundaries. Even here.

Next month they'll be onstage performing at the biggest music festival in the state. The song I submitted is the flagship single from their second album. It's about how tiring it gets to have to ask for simple respect all day every day. It's at about 3,600 some streams on spotify now, which puts it above the stream limit. (I submitted Windmill, a personal favorite of mine off the same album, as a backup.)

I think Use My Fkn Pronouns should be included in this bracket because it represents my friend standing on a stage and singing out to thousands of people, in the face of a government that is actively trying to erase them, that their life and experiences have value. They're gonna stand up there and BE the role model we needed when we were kids, and they're gonna fucking rock while they do it.

Even if it doesn't win, I want everyone to know that I am so, so proud to be their friend.」

youtube

Fang into Vein：　「okay listen.

Not only is this a chilling and beautiful song about vampires (the way he sings "it means nothing to me" the first time?! HOLY SHIT) it also is by someone so fantastic I don't have words for it.

So he is a Trans Elder TM, he is iconic for many reasons but most of all because he transitioned publicly in his mid 40s after having an established career and EXPLAINED THAT HE IS A CHANGELING, that a faerie had lived his life for him under a glamour while he the real boy had been kept in faerieland! It's the best metaphor of all time and he has stuck to it for 15 years no matter how much it baffles cis people. Also he is kind and thoughtful and if he were a spiritual leader I would follow him. Might be too popular for this bracket but this song only has 1.7k plays on youtube (I can't check spotify because I don't have a computer)... so, thank you for your consideration!」

youtube

#good luck on this one everyone #poll #allegra hernandez #alexander james adams #underground music #lgbtq #Youtube

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thefinalcinderella · 1 year

Text

Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 2 - Rainbow-Colored (Part 1)

I don’t know if you guys can tell...but my motivation for working on this novel is kinda low. But thankfully the author has ways of pushing me by putting in some of the most insane shit that makes me question if I know how to read

Also for the Tsurune: Irodori no Issha audio dramas: it’s not that I’m too lazy to do them, it’s that I keep forgetting about them. I’ll get them all out eventually

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. An oonusa is a wooden wand traditionally used in Shinto purification rituals, salt water is also used sometimes

2. Oshikura manju is a children’s game where children gather in a circle with their backs pressed close together and tried to push each other out

3. The words used here is チラ見えの帯 and I have no idea what this is referring to

4. Guu Choki Paa is some kind of Japanese rock-papers-scissors song

5. The Iroha poem is an ancient poem that contains each character of the Japanese syllabary exactly once

Previous | Next

In the morning, Minato was standing on the balcony of his room.

Raindrops beaded the railing. The transparent drops were bathed in the morning sun and glistened in orange, green, and blue. As he gazed at the sparkling water droplets glittering together like jewels, he heard his father’s voice calling him from downstairs. He hurriedly wiped the laundry pole.

Suddenly, a figure entered his field of vision. It seemed to be looking at him. He moved closer to the railing, but the figure was already gone. Thinking that it must have been his imagination, he held the empty laundry basket in his hands.

Recently, Minato had made some changes to his morning routine. He had added ritual chanting to the gods and sutra chanting after doing his run. He learned this from Saionji-sensei, and had stopped since he got target panic in his third year of middle school. Many foreign kyudo enthusiasts were inspired by Zen in the Art of Archery to start kyudo. Mindfulness was underpinned by Buddhist concepts.

The sutra Minato was reading was the Heart Sutra. It gave concrete examples of the Buddhist idea of emptiness and explained how to attain the wisdom of the Buddha. The author was unknown, but it was translated into Chinese by Xuanzang, made famous by Journey to the West. It was a very short sutra of 262 characters and was composed in the form of Kannon talking to Sariputra.

Minato, who was in fifth grade when he heard the Japanese translation, wondered what “All is empty.” When he told Saionji-sensei that he didn’t like the idea of enlightenment if it meant the absence of feelings of happiness and sadness because it wasn’t human-like, Saionji-sensei told him, “You aren’t capable of contemplation. Please study more.”

The Golden Week training camp of three days and two nights began today.

The venue was the same as last year, Yata Shrine.

The rain that lasted the night before cleared up, and red-purple mountain azaleas and white fringed irises were blooming in profusion. Because of the renovation work, the Yata no Mori kyudojo was now extremely bright with LED lightning instead of fluorescent lights.

But Minato’s spirits were heavy. Lately, Masa-san wasn’t looking him in the eye.

He would immediately look away whenever their eyes met, and he seemed somewhat distant. Minato hadn’t seen his grin in days. Was he avoiding him? Or rather, he felt like he was being ignored. Did I do something to make him hate me? He wondered if he yelled something like “Masa-san’s a dirty old geezer!” in his sleep without realizing it. Once he started worrying about it, he couldn’t stop himself from spiralling deeper and deeper. His head was spinning with delusions summoning more delusions.

Tommy-sensei was standing in front of the referee’s table.

“First of all, the selected members will do a demonstration of the competition format.”

The selected members, Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Kanbayashi, and Minato, lined up at the entrance.

At last year’s training camp, they had a lot of trouble stepping together as five, but now they had grown to the point where they were able to match each other’s steps in an instant with someone they were grouped with for the first time. Kaito, walking in the lead, learnt to feel the presence of the people behind him and didn’t miss anyone. After he nocked his arrow and fixed his eyes on the target, he raised his bow towards the sky.

After everyone finished four shots, the results were announced. It was four, three, four, two, for a total of seventeen hits.

Kanbayashi sank down onto the floor after returning his bow to the rack.

“I didn’t think this when I was watching you all, but everyone’s kai is really long. Being between President Takehaya and Narumiya-senpai is really nerve-wracking.”

Seiya knelt down next to him.

“Don’t be so nervous. Just be your normal self.”

Overhearing their conversation, Kaito glared at them.

“Kai isn’t ‘long,’ but ‘deep.’ And it’s no good shrivelling or getting too worked up, no matter who’s in front of you or behind you. Well, I can’t blame you for getting distracted if Seiya’s in front of you, though.”

Seiya stood up and got his face right up to Kaito’s nose.

“I wonder what do you mean by that, Onogi-senpai.”

“I meant it exactly as it is.”

Kanbayashi blinked his eyes rapidly and Keyaki looked fed up as they watched Kaito and Seiya’s exchange. When Nanao was about to step in between them to divert the conversation, Tommy-sensei asked them to gather again.

“Now, the theme of this camp will be ‘Steady Mind and Body.’ The way you breathe is very important.”

The first-years, excluding the competitors, gathered near the makiwara, while the rest stood in front of the targets.

Masa-san undertook demonstrating the practical skills.

“Let’s start by practicing the ‘dantian breathing technique’ again. I want you to listen with the understanding that there are various theories about dantians and I may correct this at a later date.”

“Yes, sir,” everyone answered.

“First, about dantians. It means ‘a place where energy is cultivated.’ There’s a theory that there are three dantians: upper, middle, and lower, but generally speaking, dantian refers to the lower abdomen dantian, which is three sun below the navel. That is, about ten centimeters below. It’s in the middle of the belly, not in front. Next, let me explain the ‘martial arts-style dantian breathing technique.’ The reason why I added the words martial arts is because when we say abdominal breathing or dantian breathing, people are generally taught to expand their abdomens when inhaling and contract it when exhaling.”

Ryouhei raised his hand.

“My sister had childhood asthma, and she told me she learned how to do it at the hospital. They do the same thing in yoga, too.”

“However, in kyudo, exhaling doesn’t cause the stomach to depress. In recent years, there’s a theory that has been adopted by athletes and has proven successful. That is the Stanford-style ‘IAP breathing method,’ also known as the ‘intra-abdominal pressure breathing.’ It is a breathing method that increases the pressure in the abdomen and tightens the area around the abdomen when inhaling and exhaling. Top athletes and musicians can naturally do IAP breathing.”

“Musicians do IAP breathing too?”

“I’m sure some of you have been told to project your voices from your stomachs during choir or vocal training. An easy way to understand this is that clenching your butt holes can help you produce higher-pitched sounds.”

“Ahh, ahh,” Ryouhei tried it, and he certainly did sound different. It had a resonance to it, not just a flat sound.

“For a singer, their body is an instrument. It’s the same for archers. The tsurune is the sound of the bow and string when an arrow is shot. Bow, string, and person become a musical instrument and resonate. Even among ‘tsuruoto,’ ‘tsurune’ refers to a particularly clear and beautifully lingering sound. To be alive means to breathe. There are times when everyone unconsciously does dantian breathing, but that’s when they’re laughing like ‘ha-ha-ha.’”

Seiya sighed.

“It feels like we’re listening to a monk’s sermon rather than an explanation of shooting techniques.”

“I am a priest. Yata Shrine is a shrine that has its roots in Shugendo, so there’s a fusion of Shinto and Buddhism here. Many teachings have been handed down, such as the Buddhism of Gautama Buddha, the esoteric Buddhism of En no Ozunu, and the secret teachings of Kuukai.”

“In other words, Masa-san, you’re a hybrid of a priest, monk, and old man.”

“Hahaha, you sure have a way with words, Seiya.”

The two’s smiles froze the boys there. The six girls gathered, and Hanazawa and Shiragiku put their hands on their own abdomens and Seo’s to compare the firmness.

After that, they began practicing on their own. Before they knew it, the first-year Himuro became the oomae. Minato wondered just when did he get there. He was like a stagehand, someone who was on stage but treated as though they didn’t exist.

Masa-san looked at everyone’s shooting in order starting from the front, but he skipped over Minato and went straight to the person behind him.

His eyes blinked weakly. Kanbayashi was also doing the same thing in front of the makiwara.

Minato covered his eyes to hide how much he was blinking.

Early next morning.

Same as last year, Minato was woken up by Masa-san’s older brother Ren pulling his hair. When he turned around, he found that he was sprawled out on someone else’s futon with one elbow propped up. Ryouhei, awakened by Minato’s voice, tried to pull Ren’s arm away. Beside him, Nanao was still half-asleep.

After finishing the morning preparations, the club members gathered in the front shrine. They were attending the morning offering and worship.

Masa-san chanted the ritual prayer loudly. After reciting the words in a rite called the shubatsu, the purification was performed with the oonusa and hot salt water. (1) Minato couldn’t look at Masa-san in fear that he would avert his gaze again. He turned his eyes to the window and caught a dark shadow moving quickly.

The club members then proceeded to clean up. The second-year boys were in charge of the precincts. When Minato and Kaito finished sweeping around the pond and took a breather, they found a white tabby cat sitting under the shrubbery.

Minato slowly crouched next to the cat so as to not make eye contact. If you looked into the eyes of an animal you were meeting for the first time, it would think you were threatening them and run away. You hold out the back of you hand to have it sniff it, and if it gives you permission, you stroked its chin. His grandfather taught him this way to interact with cats when he was little.

The cat purred.

It was the sound of “I love it.”

As Minato was stroking its back, it got onto its back as though tell him to stroke its belly. Minato learned that it was a mother cat.

Kaito’s feet had become a puddle of cats in an instant. A brown tabby cat with one ear cut into a V-shape clung to him with its tail up.

“Oh, is this a Sakura cat?”

Sakura cats were stray cats that had been spayed and neutered by animal protection groups. They were also called local cats. They got their name because the V-shaped scar looked like a sakura petal.

The white tabby cat kicked him and left, perhaps because he stroked him too persistently.

Kaito’s cat puddle also disbanded. In their place, Ryouhei, Nanao, and Seiya gathered.

“Minato, you really love fluffy things,” Ryouhei said.

“I’ve always wondered this. Why aren’t humans covered with fur and feathers? We used to have them, didn’t we? Did we like clinging together?”

Hearing that, Seiya and Ryouhei sandwiched Minato between them and they ended up looking like a game of oshikura manju. (2)

“Stop it, you guys! I didn’t mean to clinging to me.”

“Really? Then what did you mean?”

Ryouhei separated from him with a puzzled look on his face. It seemed that his habit from childhood still hadn’t gone away. Not wanting to go through that again, Minato took a step away from his two childhood friends.

Kaito propped his chin on the end of the broom handle.

“Seiya, as the club president, you shouldn’t be fooling around.”

“Huh? Kaito, do you want to be squeezed too?”

“No way! I’m gonna punch you!”

Seiya covered his mouth with his hand and turned around, his shoulders shaking.

Minato expressed what was on his mind to Kaito.

“Actually, recently, I feel like someone’s been watching me. Ever since the training camp started.”

“Huh? Aren’t you just being too self-conscious?”

“It might be one of Nanao’s groupies. We have to be careful.”

Seiya smiled. The mole under his eye stood out. “I don’t think it’s either of them. It’s probably just your imagination. Come on, let’s go back and change into our hakama.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.”

Seiya, Ryouhei, and Nanao headed for the kyudojo.

Kaito, who was one step behind, couldn’t quite make sense of it. Seiya was so overprotective of Minato that Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo teased him by saying, “Seiya Home Security, watching over you 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.” But for some reason, he wasn’t concerned about this case.

Minato was walking away from the four of them. Nanao walked in place to slow down his pace and naturally ended up next to Minato.

“Minato, I really am okay. Is there something you’re worrying about too? Tell me about it if you want to.”

“…Lately, our eyes aren’t meeting.”

“Oh, oh? Is this about romance?”

“Not at all.”

“Hmm, the eyes can say as much as the mouth, and you can pretty much tell what people are looking at. For example, who’s the person you care about looking at? Who’s the person you always care about looking at, Minato?”

“Mm, I guess it’s the gods?”

“Mm, that might be outside my area of expertise.”

A bird chirped.

The two looked up and they could see the blue sky and the fleecy clouds between the budding trees. At first, they couldn’t make out where the bird song was coming from, but when they strained their eyes, they were able to spot a varied tit on the treetops.

Minato’s eyes, which reflected the fresh green, shook.

“It’s so pretty.”

“That’s right …I realized that I wasn’t so frustrated when I didn’t make it into the regular lineup. I was fine with being a substitute.”

“You really are fine with that?”

“What’s important to me isn’t winning or receiving praise from anyone, but being able to feel Kacchan’s presence.”

“——I want you to stay by my side.”

“Whoa, Minato, you can read my mind?”

“Of course not. Maybe we just happened to think the same thing?”

“Yeah. If you had that ability, you’d be at the top of the class after reading Seiya’s mind. Oh, look, there’s Masa-san.”

In the direction Nanao pointed, there was Masa-san, who had changed into his practice clothes, and Ren, who had a camera in his hand. The two of them were smiling, and Masa-san had a childish expression on his face that wasn’t normally seen.

When Nanao waved at them with a “Merha,” they also replied with “Merha,” but Minato looked away.

The twins ripped the target papers together.

I’m so frustrated. I’m so frustrated.

They peeled off the hole-filled target papers from the target frames.

To lose to that newbie and have our places next to Shuu stolen. Ah, I can’t believe it.

They were cleaning up after practice at Kirisaki High School’s kyudo club.

In order to set a good example for the new members, the second-years were taking the initiative. After washing the target frames with water, they left the rest to the first-years and went to the azuchi. When they slammed their trowels against it, part of the azuchi crumbled, and they hurriedly scooped up the crumbled earth.

Senichi and Manji felt the same way. It was absolutely unacceptable to be disrespected by a cocky junior who had no idea what he was talking about, just when they were starting to communicate with their seniors, Kabashima and Yushima. They themselves had also done quite a lot of trouble, but they of course put that aside. They quickly swept inconvenient things under the carpet.

Shuu was silently facing the makiwara. Kuon asked him a question with a composed expression.

“Fujiwara-senpai, you promised to watch my shooting when we’re together, didn’t you?”

When someone around them remarked, “I hate to admit it, but the two of them are a perfect match in terms of looks, ability, and pedigree. Even the clothes they wear are first-rate,” the twins glared at the person who made that comment.

A few days later, Senichi and Manji sprang into action. At every possible location, they guarded Shuu by staying ahead of Kuon.

What should we do to win against him?

He’s a strong man. Men speak with their fists.

They started going to a kickboxing gym. Jumping rope, shadow boxing, hitting mitts. One-two hook and one-two uppercut, middle kick from cut, then straight right. Kyudo emphasized shooting form, but in kickboxing, even if your form was good, it was meaningless if it didn’t work on your opponent. Put your weight in it and bring your fist down!

After sweating, they took care of their hair and skin to master the art of beauty. Ayurvedic beauty treatments from India. Dripping oil on the forehead had a great detoxifying effect. Their tired skin and hair became glossy and lustrous, resulting in well-moisturized young men.

They decided to completely remake their appearances. Aiming to be fashionable men, they were stylish even down to the places that weren’t visible. They bought silk underwear and layered obis (3) at a long-established kimono shop, and wore intellectual-looking glasses. While they were at it, they put a wig and silk hat on Yushima. They had used those props for the Rokumeikan Café during the school festival.

Yushima Kaoru, dressed in his kyudo uniform and silver wig, stared at them with narrowed eyes. At this time, the kyudojo was only for second-years, but there was a stir coming from the female members.

Manji spoke. “Kaoru-senpai, the crew cut is cool and on, but have you considered growing out your hair?”

“…Hey, twins, do you see something wrong with the direction of questions here?”

Kabashima also chimed in. “I don’t care if you look nicer or got stronger, but what about kyudo practice? I hope you haven’t been slacking off.”

“Huh? We practice properly. Look at our feet. The gaps between our toes are open, and we were praised for having nice feet. Maybe we can be both archers and martial fighters.”

Senichi and Manji took off their tabi socks and showed off their bare feet. The two faced each other and began playing Guu Choki Paa (4) and feet rock-paper-scissors. Kabashima buried his head in his hands even more at their comical movements.

“You know, a fighting man has to put his life on the line. What do you think Fujiwara recommended hot and cold baths and home cooking for?”

“So we can become househusbands and mountain hermits.”

“No, you got it wrong. They are ways to recover and nourish the body, to develop the strength and steadfastness necessary for an athlete.”

“Nope, nope, no way. We’re living far away from that kind of thing.”

“Hey, Fujiwara. Say something to these disgraces of Kirisaki High School. It’s setting a bad example for the juniors if their senpais are messing around too much.”

Called to by Kabashima, Shuu put down his bow. He sat on his heels and took off his yugake. His straight back, graceful nape of his neck, and swaying bangs made all those who saw him fall into raptures.

“Isn’t it good to try different things? You never know if something’s good or bad until you try it, and you might get something out of it.”

“Fujiwara, are you aware that you actually spoil those twins too much?”

“My father told me that a well-bred person respects others. Life dwells even in the plants and roadside stones. The rock cannot be cut by those who cannot see its life. He said that this isn’t a metaphor, but him telling the truth as it is. Sen and Man put their hands after the meal. The two of them are fine just the way they are.”

“Shuu!”

Senichi and Manji rushed over and tugged on Shuu’s sleeves from both sides. As expected, he didn’t seem to like that and quickly brushed them off before returning to practice.

Kuon, who was watching the situation from afar, raised his eyebrows.

He had a dream the other day.

In it, he and Shuu were having a conversation on a wide lawn with a Western-style building behind them.

“I’m thinking of welcoming a dog into my family,” Shuu said.

“Have you decided on the breed?”

“It’s hard to decide between Japanese and Western. A black Shiba inu, a Labrador Retriever, or do I go with the classics and choose a standard poodle? It’s pleasant to imagine a furry creature snuggled up to one’s side.”

“It is wonderful.”

“That’s right. There’s a cute creature that’s always bright and energetic, and when it sees my face, it flies towards me, and even shrinks its huge body when it fails.”

And then, Shuu turned to a tall man. “Your hand,” he said.

“Awoo,” he said and put out his hand.

“Your chin.”

“Awoo—wait, what are you doing, Shuu-kun!”

That was when he woke up. Kuon was covered in cold sweat.

What kind of dream was that?

Who is this guy who’s so familiar with my Fujiwara-senpai?

The crime of disrespect is also serious. Unforgivable, even if it’s just a dream, something like this would never happen. Fujiwara Shuu is a solitary genius. Everyone kneels before him in awe and reverence. Being the sublime Young Lord is his truth. Associating with lowly people will only degrade your status. Playing around with them is outrageous.

Dogs must be strictly disciplined.

The training camp at the Yata no Mori Kyudojo was on its last day.

A practice match was held. A total of twenty-five mixed male and female archers, excluding five first-year students who didn’t participate in the training camp, shot four arrows in zasha in teams of five. The order was decided with “yaburi.” Himura took an arrow from each participant, held it in a bundle behind his back, and then placed them in a random order on the floor, one at a time. The order was determined by checking the arrow and the owner calling out their own name.

The entrance ceremony began. The first-years were a bit slow, with their shoulders tensed and their steps not in sync with each other, but their spirit was well-conveyed.

It was fun shooting in a different lineup than usual. Seiya was behind Seo, and Hanazawa and Shiragiku were behind Kaito, neither of them giving an inch. What made kyudo great was that it allowed men and women of all ages to compete without handicaps.

The first-years were checking that they have memorized the shooting form and Eight Stages of Shooting, so hitting was of secondary importance. Still, they were so happy that they felt like they could soar when they hit one. Everyone shouted “Yes” as if it were their own. When all the shots were finished, there were three who hit with all four arrows. It became a tie-breaking match, and in order to shorten the time, it was an izume match instead of an enkin match.

Masa-san and Minato left the kyudojo to pick up the kimonos for the nosha.

The disciple followed the master who was walking in a hurry, but there was no casual chat as usual. The two of them were in the positions of working adult and student, and keenly aware of their different speeds and strides.

Unable to stand it, Minato called out to him.

“Masa-san.”

“What is it? If there’s something you need, it can wait until after camp is over.”

“Since this year’s beginners are using the bow earlier than usual, I know that you and Tommy-sensei must keep an eye on them in order to prevent accidents. But why are you only ignoring me?”

“Wait, Minato, let’s talk about this later.”

“It’s true that no matter how many times I’m told, I forget to tense the little finger on my left hand, and I can’t even do dantian breathing, but am I such a terrible disciple that I’m given up on?”

When Minato grabbed Masa-san’s arm, he heard a quiet voice.

“I’m sorry, but please don’t look at me with those eyes.”

Minato let go of his grasping hand.

In his blurry vision, he saw Masa-san covering his face with his left hand.

“It’s not what you think. When Seiya took a survey of the club members, he found that ‘Coach Takigawa shows favouritism towards the second-year boys. Especially Narumiya-senpai.’ So, to avoid misunderstandings, I tried not to talk to you too much in front of the first-years.”

“…Huh?”

“And Minato, you were the one who didn’t react when I waved to you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to make eye contact with me.”

“It’s more like there are times when it’s troublesome.”

“What do you mean, troublesome? Tell me clearly.”

“I sometimes find myself wanting to pat your forehead uncontrollably, but I can’t let anyone else see me like that, now can I?”

“Wh-wh-what are you talking about?”

Just when Minato was at a loss for words, two figures suddenly appeared and stood in front of him.

“Making our grandson cry, you’re a failure as a coach!”

Minato couldn’t believe his eyes. He had seen these faces before.

“…Grandpa!? Grandma!?”

“We thought that this club must be an exploitative club, since they have club activities during the holidays, but it seems that we were right. Isn’t it important to spend time with your family and friends outside of club activities?”

“Grandpa! There were people who were against training during the holidays, but we were the ones who asked for it. That’s why only volunteers are participating.”

His grandfather, who was about to grab Masa-san, loosened his clenched fist. After understanding the situation, the grandparents turned to Minato.

“When we learned about your kyudo activities, we really wanted to see you face to face. Since we were against the marriage of your parents, we were too embarrassed to go see you, so we hid and watched you,” his grandfather said.

“We’re sorry for coming to see you so late. We haven’t seen you since the funeral. Your mother had been sickly ever since she was little, so we were worried about letting her live so far away. Because we were so stubborn, we never got to see our precious daughter and grandchild. We weren’t able to properly express our feelings. We can never get rid of our regrets, so this is how…” his grandmother said.

“…I’m the only one who survived… I wondered if Mom was in more pain than I was, or if she was scared, but I couldn’t breathe…”

When Minato pressed his hand against his left side, his grandmother gripped that hand and his other hand.

“What are you saying! There’s a song your mother used to sing to herself when she was a child. It goes like, When I cross that mountain, I will feel very peaceful and content. Your mother always loves your smile.”

Masa-san placed his hand on Minato’s back.

“Ui no okuyama kyou koete, asaki yume miji yohi mo sezu—that’s the ‘Iroha poem.’ (5) It talks about how when you cross the mountains, Miroku-sama will come and greet you.”

“Yes, that is also an interpretation. You seem to be a diligent person who studies hard. I’m relieved that there’s someone like you by Minato’s side. Please continue to take good care of him for a long time.”

“No, I should be thanking you.”

While still holding Minato’s hands, his grandmother exchanged a few words, then let go of them in reassurance.

“We’ll come visit again!” Minato saw his waving grandparents off.

Kaito and Seiya, who were looking for Minato and Masa-san because they were late in coming back, hid behind a tree.

“Seiya, you knew that Narumiya’s grandparents were secretly checking on him, didn’t you?”

“Oh, I knew. They visited us. That’s why I left it alone.”

“Good grief, you should have told me. If I had known, I wouldn’t have gotten worried.”

“Sorry, Kaito.”

Kaito stiffened at Seiya’s honest response.

Afterwards, the nosha was held. Nanao, who won the match, was the archer, and Minato served as the first kaizoe, and Kaito as the second. They wore peach, bamboo-green, and crimson kimonos respectively.

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#tsurune #tsurune translation

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biscuits-of-bagend · 3 months

Text

DnDoc, Space Band #3 - Childhood Favourites

Kind of want to make a playlist of Rogue's music library now... any suggestions? I'll explain the whole 'Space Band' thing and what that is in the real world at the bottom of the chapter.

Part 1 Part 2

Previous story: DnDoc, Coming Home

---

Rogue's music selection was displayed on a large touch-screen set into one of the walls and Ruby's face passed through various expressions as she scrolled through it.

"Taylor Swift, nice, Queen, of course, Linkin Park…" Ruby looked around the room then back at Rogue. "Sounds about right."

"Hey, they're great," said Rogue. "You don't realise how lucky you are for music in twenty-first century Earth."

"Ooh, you have music from other centuries?" said Ruby.

"And other planets," said Rogue. "Hang on. Listen to this."

He tapped the screen on a song called Rock the Socks off the World. A short sharp riff blared out of the speakers then a young-sounding male voice starting singing about rocking the socks off of planets. Rogue bobbed from side to side and nodded his head up and down.

"Space Band?!" the Doctor cried.

Rogue looked round and saw the Doctor standing near the entrance where they'd left him. He had looked up from his sonic screwdriver and was staring at Rogue, mouth held open.

"They were my favourite band when I was little!" said Rogue. He laughed and said, "Will you two leave me and my music taste alone?"

"No no, I love Space Band," said the Doctor.

"Also they're actually called The Earthlings. People just get confused because of their song 'Space Band.' They were from Earth, originally," Rogue explained to Ruby, "But they've played all over the galaxy."

"They're fantastic," the Doctor said. "But I haven't listened to them since I was like, a hundred."

Rogue closed his eyes and breathed out nervously. "Forgot about that. The age thing."

"Ah," said the Doctor. "You… okay with that?"

Rogue nodded. "You just look way too good for it so I keep forgetting."

The next Earthlings song had started, a two minute fifty-nine second track commenting on its own length from beginning to end.

Ruby thought for a moment, then said, "I can see how this would be awesome if you were a kid."

"Ten-year-old me thought this was the greatest band in the universe," said Rogue.

"You ever been to see them?" asked the Doctor.

"No, I always wanted to, but we were quite a mobile family and our paths just never crossed. I've seen the livestreams, but never in person," said Rogue.

The Doctor cocked his head to the side and listened to the sonic cloud for a moment. "Oh boy, careful everyone. Step the wrong way and I reckon you'd fall into the Space Band audience right now, unless the sonic's just got really into drum solos in the last ten seconds."

"The portal…" Rogue screwed up his eyes and tried to work it out. "It took me to music, to my Kylie-obsessed ship, so it could get fed? And now it wants to go see The Earthlings for dinner? …That sounded more sinister than I meant it to."

"I think you're right," said the Doctor. "And most people who made it that far into the forest had no music left to offer it."

"Did you ever work out why you were immune?" Ruby asked, looking up from scrolling through the rest of Rogue's music library.

"Honestly, no idea," said Rogue. "I guess just different biology. I'm from a whole different dimension, so the bacteria just didn't know what to do with me."

"Maybe, could also be the TARDIS protecting you. You were in there for a little while," said the Doctor. "And nothing's as magical as the TARDIS."

Rogue smiled across the room at the Doctor. "True."

The Doctor moved the sonic screwdriver slowly back and forward through the air. "Excellent, the cloud's latched on. If I put the sonic screwdriver in its console slot back on the TARDIS I should be able to take us wherever the cloud feels like showing us. Right now, I reckon that would be a Space Band concert. So, what do you say, Rogue, would you like to make your ten-year-old self's dreams come true?"

---

Part 4

SO, Space Band. It's a children's novel written by Tom Fletcher, one of the guitarists and singers from McFly. He and the rest of McFly made an album to soundtrack the children's novel and it is genuinely really fun. I ended up reading the book as like, research for this last week? And frankly, it's excellent. If I was 10 years old it would probably be my favourite book in the world... or should I say universe...

@off-traveling-in-the-stars @casavanse @monster-donut @letsargueacrossthestars (let me know at any point if you no longer wish to be tagged in each post)

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #fanfic #dw spoilers #fanfiction #doctor who rogue

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dialovers-translations · 2 years

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Animate Tokuten Drama CD ”The Contest is the Smell of Money!? ~The Vampires’ Desire~”

Original title: コンクールはお金の香り!?～ヴァンパイアたちの欲望

Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS SONG Animate Tokuten Drama CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke, Katsuyuki Konishi, Midorikawa Hikaru, Takahiro Sakurai, Kimura Ryouhei & Morikawa Toshiyuki

Translator’s note: Once again, the Vampires prove that they are more human than anyone else because their number one motivator in life is...sweet, sweet money. xD They’re all so thirsty for cash 99% of the time, it’s honestly hilarious. I wonder what else you could push them to do, just because there’s a large amount of prize money on the line. The climax of this CD kind of caught me off guard because I expected they would just royally fuck up on the day of the concert but no...They never even got to enter lol. Great move by the MC. They don’t really hint at what her explanation for not submitting the application on time was, but I want to believe that she did it on purpose to get revenge for all the times they treated her like trash. You go girl.

*Rustle*

Ayato: Haah…God…The fuck is this? And here I thought I’d head straight home to pick on Chichinashi…Oi, you. Have you heard anythin’ ‘bout what’s goin’ on?

*Flip*

Ruki: Hm…

Ayato: Oi, bastard! You’re just gonna ignore me, huh!?

Ruki: Was my lack of a response not clear enough of an answer?

Ayato: Aah…!?

Ruki: Haah…

Ruki closes his book.

Ruki: I haven’t heard anything. Now relax. I am sure we will find out sooner or later.

Ayato: But you know…Whoever decided to gather this group of people here must be fuckin’ bonkers. I feel like we’re bein’ set up for some weird shit.

*Rustle*

Kou: Well…I guess I can’t blame you for feeling that way…

Carla: Heh…

Ayato: Anyway, how come you’re here as well, Carla? I can’t imagine you’d actually show up under normal circumstances.

Carla: Is my appearance truly that puzzling?

Ruki: Well, I do believe you must have a solid reason for doing so.

Kou: I mean, Mr. ‘Almighty Founder’ doesn’t even show up for class usually, does he~?

Carla: I had nothing better to do, that is all.

Ayato: Smells fishy.

Kou: Right? I can only imagine you have some kind of ulterior motive.

Carla: You fiends…Who do you think you are talking to…?

Ayato: Hah!? You wanna throw down!? Fine, I accept your challenge!

Reiji: Come on now, everyone. Please stop getting up in each other’s faces like that.

Ruki: Hm? This voice is…?

Reiji enters the room.

*Rattle*

Ayato: Reiji…? Don’t tell me you’re the one who…?

Reiji: I had no other choice. Otherwise you lot would have never shown up.

Carla: Oi, you. You are the one who summoned me here. So it must be safe to assume that you had a good reason for doing so?

Reiji: You are rather impatient, are you not? I shall explain shortly, so please wait a few more minutes.　ーー For starters, I would like all of you to take a look at this.

Reiji starts distributing flyers.

*Flip*

Carla: …Hm? …This isーー!?

Ruki: Could it be…?

Ayato: Haah!? A music competition!?

Reiji: Exactly. We will participate in it.

Kou: Eh? You’re joking, right?

Reiji: No, I am dead serious.

Ayato: …!? Are you out of your mind!? You want to sign up with the people gathered here?

Reiji: Yes. I have carefully selected a group of people who would aim for victory.

Ruki: I see…You are after the prize money, correct?

Kou: Hm? What do you mean?

Carla: Take a good look at the flyer. Especially at the part about the prize.

*Flip*

Ayato: …!? For real…!? The winner gets…ten thousand dollars!? (1)

Kou: No way!?

Ruki: It must be a print mistake of some sorts, right?

Shuu: Sounds too suspicious.

Reiji: Oh my, Shuu. Seems like someone has finally woken up.

Shuu: You really think I could sleep with you guys making such a fuss?

Reiji: I believe it is more likely that it was the prize money which caught your attention…But oh well. Ahem. I have already contacted the organizers about it. It would appear that our school would like to shift their focus on attracting promising artists, so to catch the attention of potential stars from all across the country, they have chosen to attach a bountiful prize to the contest.

Kou: I see. I expected no less from Reiji-kun! Nothing gets past you.

Reiji: Of course not. …So, what will you do?

Ayato: What do you mean? Are you askin’ us whether we’ll participate or not?

Reiji: Yes…According to my data, the people I have gathered here have the highest chance at success.

Shuu: And how exactly? We’re the only ones who have any sort of musical talent, right?

Kou: Excuse me!? I have published my own CDs, you know!?

Shuu: Those are not even worth mentioning.

Kou: Haah!?

Shuu: I mean, think about it. We’re joining a musical competition, not some kind of concert. Unless you’ve actually taken proper vocal music classes?

Reiji: Shuu…It would appear to me that you don’t understand the true meaning of a contest.

Shuu: What do you mean?

Reiji: In a contest, the winner is decided by the judges’ votes. In other words…By people.

Ruki: I see. So appearance is an important factor as well.

Reiji: Exactly. I am glad you are quick to understand.

Kou: In other words…Since I’m a good-looking idol, it’s possible that I could appeal to the judges?

Ruki: Exactly. Humans are so easily won over by appearance. It is possible they will let you get away with making some mistakes because your looks make up for it.

Kou: Ruki-kun, how mean…That doesn’t make me happy at all.

Shuu: Then what about the other two guys? Ayato most likely has zero experience with music whatsoever, and I can’t imagine old man Carla (2) over there playing music either.

Carla: You fiends…You really do not hold back at all, do you? Calling me elderly, a fossil or even an old woman!

Kou: Wait, nobody ever called you an old woman, did they?

Ayato: I actually took violin lessons many, many years ago!

Reiji: Exactly. I remember.

Shuu: Are you talking about when aunt Cordelia forced him to start taking classes in hopes of competing against us?

Ruki: Heeh…The eldest triplet plays the violin, huh? That’s new information to me.

Shuu: If I recall correctly…He gave up after just one week and smashed his instrument.

Ayato: Just so you know, that wasn’t my fault!

Shuu: Hm?

Ayato: That hysteric old hag destroyed it during one of her crazy moments. I mean, I was glad that I didn’t have to bother with those lessons anymore.

Shuu: …I guess destroying violins was her thing, huh?

Reiji: …W-Well…Anyway! He isn’t a complete amateur when it comes to music, so his chances are somewhat higher than any of the other guys. …And you, Carla, you are none other than a Founder, aren’t you?

Carla: …!

Reiji: The cream of the crop of all Demons…A First Blood. Therefore I believe it is only safe to assume that you would have no issues mastering music, a human invention?

Carla: W-Well…

Ruki: I guess it might be tricky after all?

Carla: A-As if…! I am a First Blood! A Founder! There is nothing I cannot do!

*Clap clap clap*

Reiji: A true Founder!

Shuu: …I wonder.

Reiji: That being said, what will you all do? Will you participate?

Ruki: I would like to ask one question. I assume that we will be splitting the prize money even amongst all participants?

Reiji: Hm? Of course.

Ruki: In that case, I’m in. Kou as well.

Kou: Eh!? Excuse me!? Why!?

Ruki: Don’t play dumb now. Whose fault do you think it is that we have to be so careful with our spendings?

Kou: …!? W-Well…

Ruki: It is your fault for being such an impulsive buyer. Isn’t that right?

Kou: Nnー...

Ayato: …I don’t want to! Joining a contest sounds like a big pain in the ass.

Reiji: Hooh? Is that so? What a shame…If you were to win, then the ‘takoyaki pool’ you have dreamt of for years might just be able to become reality.

Ayato: …!?

Shuu: I’m skipping out as well. It’s obviously too much trouble.

Reiji: Oh dear, is that so? I mean, I personally don’t mind since the less people participate, the less people we have to split the money between. …You might just be able to buy the antique gramophone you’ve been wanting so badly though.

Shuu: …!?

Reiji: Ah, right, right! The jamon iberico you love so much, Carla, you should be able to purchase a few logs of it with the prize money.

Carla: …!! You shall not bribe me with such a thing!!

Reiji: Ahaha. Of course not. You are a lofty Founder after all. You must not let yourself be won over by money, correct?

Carla: Exactly!

Reiji: However…It truly is a shame, isn’t it? It would be such a perfect opportunity to get an entire log of the finest quality jamon iberico. That vaguely nutty flavor spreading inside your mouth…growing stronger and stronger as you chew. Seasoned to perfection.

Carla: …Ah…

Reiji: I suppose you three do not want any of those things. It is a shame, truly.

Ayato, Shuu & Carla: …

Ayato: G-Guess I have no other choice…If you insist…I suppose I do have some free time on my hands anyway.

Shuu: I had been thinking it was about time I picked up the violin again…I guess this is the perfect opportunity.

Reiji: Oh my, is that so? I am glad.

*Rustle*

Reiji: Then, what about you, Carla?

Carla: Hm…I shall help you out. It is one of my many duties as a Founder to show compassion towards the lower masses after all.

Reiji: I see. I am terribly grateful for that.

Ruki: Seems like we’ve come to a conclusion. In that case, we should apply at once. I shall head to the agency at oーー

Reiji: Ah! About that, I suggest we leave that up to her. She does not seem to have anything better to do after all.

Ruki: Hm. I understand. Let us start practicing at once then. Time is money. If we want to aim for victory, then we have no other choice but to practice as much as we can.

Kou: But what exactly will we do with our group? We can’t pull off an orchestra, can we?

Reiji: Please do not worry about that. I have come with a plan. We will participate in two groups of three members each.

Ruki: I see. To get as much out of it as we can, correct?

Carla: What do you mean?

*Flip*

Ruki: According to this flyer, a prize will be awarded to both first and second place. If we participate in two groups and get both prizes…

Reiji: The combined prize money would be fifteen million yen. Split amongst us six, it means each of us would get a total of two million fifty thousand yen.

Ayato: Woah…! Amazing!

Reiji: Right? As for the groups…I suggest Kou, Carla and myself as one group and Shuu, Ayato and Ruki as the other, effectively splitting up Shuu and myself as we have the most experience with music.

Ruki: I believe those are well-balanced groups.

Reiji: Why of course. I put them together based on precise, evidence-based data after all.

*Rattle*

Kou: Ah! M-neko-chan~!

Ayato: Chichinashi!

Reiji: Oh dear, what’s the matter? Is there something you need?

You explain.

Reiji: I see. You came to check up on us? Well, I suppose you would find it intriguing why the teacher would lend us the music classroom and its instruments.

Ayato: Perfect timing! Chichinashi, you should join our team!

*Rustle*

Kou: Eh? Hold up! M-neko-chan is coming this way…She’s joining our group!

Ayato: Haah!? Excuse me!?

*Clap clap clap*

Reiji: Stop right there, no fighting! While we may have split up in two groups, we are still on the same team.

Ruki: Exactly. Now is not the time to have a fall-out. …Oi, Livestock. You shall listen to our performance as we practice and act as our advisor.

Shuu: Well, I guess we need someone who can give us some objective input. Let’s not question whether or not she’s the right person to do so though…

Reiji: Ahem. Well then, I suppose we should discuss within our teams who will play which instrument first.

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle*

Reiji: Well then…As for our team, I believe it makes most sense to start by asking which instrument each of you feels most comfortable with and then we can decide on our line-up based on that.

Kou: Hm…Why not? Seems like the most logical solution.

Carla: I am a Founder. You can assign me any instrument you like.

Reiji: What…do you mean by that?

Carla: That I can play each one with ease.

Kou: Really!?

Carla: Why would I lie about such a thing?

Reiji: I see. I suppose you were not simply bluffing earlier. In which case, I shall randomly assign you an instrument…Kou, what about you?

Kou: Um…I could probably handle the end-blow flute, the triangle, the tambourine…

Reiji: Any string or wind instruments?

Kou: Hm… For percussion instruments, maybe the djembe, ngoma? (3)

Carla: What are those?

Kou: They’re African instruments! The locals taught me how to play them when I visited the area during one of my on location photo shoots.

Reiji: Those are some awfully niche choices…As an idol, are you not capable of playing any instruments with a little more flair? Like the piano or the flute?

Kou: Hmー I can play some simple tunes with one hand on the piano…

Reiji: That simply won’t do…

Carla: I mean, we do not actually need to play for real, do we?

Kou: Huh? What do you mean?

Carla: All you need to do is pretend to be playing. Say we go for a violin trio, then only Reiji and myself need to be able to actually play the instrument.

Reiji: I see. I suppose we have that option as well.

Carla: Exactly. One cannot get delicious cured ham by only playing fair.

Reiji: Exactly. …Nor will I be able to get my hands on that high-tech built-in kitchen…

Kou: Huh? Did you say something just now?

Reiji: No, not at all.

You try to convince them to keep things fair.

Carla: Excuse me? Did you say something just now?

Reiji: Hmー Well…I suppose it is true that we risk losing our prize money if they find out that we cheated.

Kou: I’ll do the vocals instead then! Although I haven’t actually ever taken proper singing classes like Shuu-kun mentioned either.

Reiji: That sounds good. Let us go with that. You should not have any complaints then either, correct?

You nod.

Reiji: Well then. From the various scores I have brought with me…

*Flip flip*

Reiji: This one should work. Let us practice this for about an hour and then we can try to put everything together.

Carla: I can go right here, right now.

Reiji: Oh, come on. At least check the score first.

Carla: Hmph.

You start walking away.

Carla: Oi, you. Where are you going?

You explain.

Carla: Ah…You want to go check up on the other group? …Well, I am somewhat curious as well. Now that I have decided I will participate, I definitely do not want to lose to them.

Kou: Eeh~? We don’t really need to compete amongst each other, right? As long as one of our groups wins, we’ll split the prize money anyway.

Carla: That is not my style.

Reiji: Hm…I guess you have a point. I believe it only makes sense to want to aim for first place with our group.

Kou: Hm…Well, I guess being ‘first’ sounds kind of nice.

Carla: Oi, woman. You heard us. I shall allow you to investigate the other group. Once you are done, I expect you to report back to me at once. Understood?

Kou: M-neko-chan, we’re counting on you~! Off you go~!

You head towards the other group.

*Rustle*

Shuu: Well then…About our group…The two of you don’t need to do anything. Or rather, please don’t.

Ayato: Aah!? The fuck!? What do you mean!?

Shuu: I don’t want you two to hold me back.

Ayato: That tone of yours is really pissin’ me off. You usually don’t give a shit ‘bout anythin’, so what makes today different?

Shuu: My gramophone is on the line here…Besides, music is kind of dear to me. Oh well, my reasoning doesn't matter. Anyway, it’d obviously be better for me to perform a solo act than to try and force some weird instrumental trio.

Ayato: Look who’s talking when you haven’t even heard me perform yet!

Shuu: I’m saying this because I unfortunate have heard you play.

Ayato: Ah!? For real!?

Shuu: Back in the past, I thought some idiot was playing around by opening and closing some rusty, old door of our castle, when it turned out the sound was coming from you playing the violin.

Ayato: …!!

Shuu: Besides, you haven’t touched the violin in years, have you?

Ayato: W-Well…

Shuu: I’m spot on, aren’t I? …As for you, Ruki, I’m pretty sure you grew up in an environment where music was the least of your worries?

Ruki: It appears you have quite the faulty image of me. I was actually rather good at playing the violin.

Shuu: Heeh…That’s surprising. In that case…Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?

*Rustle*

Shuu grabs one of the violins and plays a bit.

Shuu: …You can choose any song you want, try and play a bit.

Ruki: Very well.

Ruki plays the violin as well.

Ruki: …As easy as pie.

Ayato: …Kuh!

Shuu: …Heeh. You’re not half bad.

Ruki: What do you think? I bet you wouldn’t mind letting me join the performance now?

Shuu: I mean, I have to admit that you are miles above Ayato in terms of skill.

Ayato: Ugh…Fuck off! Do you really have to put it like that!? I can easily pull that off as well!

Ayato grabs the violin.

Ayato: Gimme that!

*Rustle*

Ayato: Now listen closely, ‘kay? ーー Kuh!

Ayato plays the violin badly.

Ruki: Ugh…What a disaster…

Shuu: Kuh…Cut it out! You’re making my ears bleed!

Ayato: …Huh? That’s weird…? Fuck! One more try!

*Rustle*

He plays just as badly.

Shuu: …Enough!

Shuu steals the violin from him as you walk up to them.

Ruki: …Hm? Oh, it’s you, Livestock. Why do you look terrified?

You explain.

Shuu: Hm? Screams? Ahー That was Ayato playing the violin. You’re not wrong to compare it to someone screeching.

Ayato: Chichinashi, you bitch…!

Ruki: Well, I guess you realize why you have to give up now?

Shuu: Just pretend you are playing instead.

You protest.

Shuu: …I know you’re against cheating but you heard his performance earlier, didn’t you?

You offer for Ayato to sing instead.

Ruki: Kou will be singing for the other group? Which means…

Shuu: Vocals, huh?

Ayato: …I just gotta sing, right!?

Shuu: Guess we have no other choice. Let’s go with that.

Ayato: I’ll blow your socks off with my beautiful voice!

Shuu: Anyway, you got a feel of what the other group’s doing, right? How are things coming together?

You explain.

Ruki: I see. The other group as well. I cannot wait to show them what we’ve got.

Ayato: I mean, as long as we do a half-decent job, we shouldn’t lose to them, right?

Shuu: Anyway, we should probably get some practice in as well and then come back together after an hour.

Ruki: Agreed.

*TIMESKIP*

Reiji: Well then, we should probably show each other what we’ve got so far.

Ruki: We just gathered together again. I believe your group did as well?

Reiji: Yes, exactly. …You seem very well informed.

Carla: You must have a lot of time on hand to eavesdrop on our group from the shadows.

Shuu: She’s the one who informed you guys as well, right? We’re in the same boat then.

Carla & Reiji: …!!

Kou: Why are you guys being so competitive towards each other when we’re all working towards the same goal…? I mean, whatever. Anyway, let’s just get to it. This isn’t the real deal yet. We’re only practicing.

Ruki: Even so, we still have to try our best.

Reiji: Exactly. Well then, how will we go about this? I believe this is the prime opportunity to decide which one of our groups is superior in terms of skill.

Carla: Fufufu…I shall show you something truly breathtaking!

Kou: Uwah~ It’s no use. His switch got flipped.

Carla: Oi, woman! You shall judge who is the superior group, understood?

Ayato: Hey, bastard! Don’t be threatenin’ Chichinashi now! She’s gonna get scared and favor you guys as a result!

Carla: I am not intimidating her in the slightest. Once you hear our performance, it will be clear that we will come out victorious. …Oi, Four-Eyes. Let us begin.

Reiji: …’Four-Eyes’, could you be referring to me, by any chance?

Carla: You are the only one here wearing glasses, are you not?

*Rustle*

Reiji: …I am rather displeased by that remark.

Kou: Let’s get this party started~! …Ah, by the way, you’ll have to wait to hear me sing until the actual performance day~

*Rustle*

Reiji and Carla start playing the violin.

Shuu: They’re not bad…

Ruki: No, wait…Take a look at Carla.

Carla: Haah…

Ayato: Haah?

Kou: Eh!? The bow’s moving by itself…!? Could it be…?

Ruki: It’s magic! He’s using his magic to play the violin…!

Shuu: Haah…

Carla: Phew…There you go, I did not even break a sweat.

Reiji: Hahaha…First place is as good as ours. …Right? Hey, you!

*Bzz bzzt*

Reiji: …!? E-Excuse me!?

Carla: Do you have a problem with our performance!?

Kou: I mean, you can hardly blame her. Any normal person would be in shock after seeing that performance from earlier.

Reiji: …! Carla! This would not be an issue if you would simply use your hands as you play!

Carla: T-That’s…

Reiji: Hm? Don’t tell me…You cannot?

Carla: …!!

Shuu: Fufu…Hilarious.

Ayato: This competition is ours!

You point out that they have yet to play.

Ayato: …Ah? I mean, sure, we haven’t performed yet, but it’s so obvious.

Ruki: I mean, why not give them a listen?

Shuu: Haah…It’s a drag but I guess we have no other choice. I’m sure they’ll admit defeat after hearing us play.

*Rustle*

Shuu: Anyway, for now, we’ll let you hear the violin part. Let’s go.

Shuu and Ruki start playing.

Carla & Reiji: …!!

Ayato: Hehe! How’s that? Pissin’ your pants?

Kou: Both of them are actually using their hands to play! I had no idea Ruki-kun was gifted at the violin!

Reiji: …!! …This is rather infuriating.

False notes start mixing in.

Reiji: Hm? …T-This is…!!

Carla: What is going on…!?

Kou: Aah! Ow! What a horrible noise…Stop! Time out!!

Shuu: …!! Oi, Ruki! What was that just now!?

Ruki: What do you mean? I played the violin.

Kou: We know that! You started off great but then it all went downhill halfway through!?

Ruki: Ah, about that. Oh well, do not let that bother you.

Reiji: How are we supposed to do that!?

Ruki: It’s the first few notes which truly matter. In short, as long as I can make a good first impression, the tone has already been set for an amazing piece.

Shuu: Haah…In other words, you can only play well for a couple of seconds?

Carla: Hahaha! I guess that means we have won.

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi! What’s the verdict of this competition?

You frown.

Kou: I’m pretty sure both groups had issues of our own? …But I doubt these guys will let this pass without there being a clear winner.

The other guys act competitive towards each other.

Kou: Hm? What was that? We should wait for a winner to be declared until the day of the actual competition? Makes sense. It’s not like there’s any point in fighting over it right now.

Shuu: Oi, Ruki. I expect you to master the rest of the score by then.

Reiji: Carla! You should learn to play with your hands as well! Come on, start practicing at once!

Ayato: …Seems like those two got stuck in between Shuu and Reiji’s personal conflict.

Kou: Oh well, whatever. All that matters is that we get our hands on those ten million yen by winning both first and second prize! We better give it our best shot.

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki: ( ーー And so, we continued to practice playing the violin from dusk till dawn for days on end. )

Carla: ( It was more challenging and daunting than any task I had faced in the past. )

Reiji: ( All I want is to surpass Shuu’s team! )

Shuu: ( I became more serious about honing my violin skills than ever before, all for the sake of that gramophone. )

Ayato: ( Even I - who wasn’t too thrilled about the whole idea at first - got very serious about the competition. )

Kou: ( Everyone held tightly onto their violin’’s bow, as the moment of truth arrivedーー )

*Rustle*

Ruki: …Ridiculous! Can someone please explain this to me!?

Kou: R-Ruki-kun, calm down…

Ruki: How am I supposed to keep calm in a situation like this!?

Shuu: Unbelievable…

Reiji: You! I am fairly sure I told you to submit our application in time so how has this happened?

You explain.

Reiji: Haah…I was a fool for entrusting you with this task. ーー Well, all of us know how to properly play now, so let us put those skills to good use at the next given opportunity, I suppose. …Right, Carla?

Carla: …W-Wha…?

Ayato: Oi, do you also smell trouble?

Kou: Yeah, you’re right…

Ayato: Let’s dip before it’s too late!

Kou: Good idea…

Ayato and Kou sneak away.

Carla: Haha…Hahaha…

Reiji: Good grief…Laughter is the only thing coming out of him.

Carla: Ahahaha…!

Shuu & Ruki: …!?

Carla: You bastards…!!

*WOOSH*

Reiji: …Carla!? R-Relax! Everyone makes mistakes! Let us remain calm and talk it out!

*BOOM*

Carla: My Iberico serranoーーーー!!

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) 一千万 or ‘issenman’ is 10.000.000 or ten million yen, when converted to dollar, it would be around ten thousand dollars.

(2) Shuu calls him 化石男 or ‘kaseki otoko’ which literally means ‘fossil guy’.

(3) There’s one third instrument he mentions but I could not find what it is for the life of me. To me it sounds like he’s saying ‘zunzun’ or ‘zunzu’ but I couldn’t find any African instruments with that name.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #ruki mukami #kou mukami #carla tsukinami

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