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a-collection-of-villainous-aus · 3 months

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You chose

Flug asks to study him to help can aid others of Hats kind

“You’re the first one in all these years to figure that out you know...so let me make you a different offer for allowing you to stay...instead of having you as my lover for room and board how about you let me study you so I can aid others of your kind...."

He said gently, letting himself sink back into the water so only his head and shoulders were peeking out the waters surface .

Moving to rest next to Amadeus , his voice was somber

"The sad fact is anytime I've come across your species it's usually after some despicable being has almost mutilated you beyond recognition...."

Hat stared at him like the man had grown two heads and splashed him with water, water droplets now dripped from Acylius's glistening white beak

"I am not something to be used for a science experiment, I am not a toy for you too play doctor with!"

Amadeus screeched, slapping Acylius across the face, the slap , Acylius had expected to feel like that of a child throwing a tantrum instead he curled in on himself and was thrown to the bottom of the enormous bath they were in.

Amadeus looked at his own hand and then where Acylius had been a few small feathers floating to the top....

SHIT HAD HE KILLED HIM!? SHIT , SHIT, SHIT, SH-

The surface bubbled and suddenly he was staring up at the shadow, nothing left about him was white apart from four now glowing eyes , his voice raspy, sounding pained.

"Without......my mask.....I live in this form.... suffering....you have.... destroyed....it, I was asking, offering....I would never have done so without your permission...."

Hat also noticed the air felt thick and heavy as he watched what looked like thick fluid continuously oozing and trailing down Acylius's barely formed body, the world around them distorting and twisting, he saw four wings spreading out further than the expanse of this room.

It wasn't until there was a tiny mew that came from the door way, of Mew mew loaf staring up at him wanting to be made a fuss of that Acylius managed to contain himself and pull himself back together to his human form.

He collapsed on the floor not too far from her and she came over nuzzling his wet hair and giving him a small lick to his cheek.

Hat's heart was racing , he was in awe and yet terrified, the books about this man had never mentioned that...he saw the mask finally coming to the surface in two pieces , webbed cracking from the impact of where his hand had come in contact.

The room still seemed to have an errie throbbing motion as if it was alive....so Acylius purposely stunted his own powers for others? ...And for the sake of himself...

He focused on the man and his laboured breathing, he didn't know what to do, he should have heard him out first, so far Acylius hadn't kicked him out or let him starve, he'd taken him to this bathroom that clearly was otherworldly to actually get a decent one... besides being tossed in.... Acylius hadn't really been so bad....

Acylius slowly moved to his hands and knees, he could see he was trembling, his eyes widening as the man removed his clothing, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the scars and tattoos he had on his body, another thing the books had never mentioned and he found himself wanting to trace them all with the tips of his claws....to be under him and listen to the power of his voice, the loss of humanity as he....no, no he mustn't think of that....after what just happened, no doubt being his lover for the winter has just been wiped off the table...Hat felt his own body whimper in disappointment and that.

Acylius picked up Mew Mew loaf after stripping himself of his soaked clothing and cuddled her, gently squeezing her tiny pink toe beans and making a fuss of the black cat and nuzzling her, she was purring happily.

"You're my little ray of sunshine, your sweetness and warmth always help ground me, thank you for coming to my aid."

He cooed scratching behind her ears only for her purring to get louder.

"I'm going to get the the biggest salmon you could imagine and it'll be all yours, yes it will, you'd love that wouldn't you baby."

He placed little kisses all over her face until a paw was put on his lips and he chuckled

"Heh heh okay I get it you've had enough, I'll let you go, go on rest by the fire place dear."

Mew Mew Loaf gave him another small lick and stared at Hat , her pupils slits, she was far from impressed with him at the moment.

Nuzzling her master again she then padded off up stairs.

Hat had taken the two pieces of mask and was surprised by how light they were, especially for how big the mask was, bringing them to the baths edge he stared down at them and cleared his throat just a little to get Acylius's attention.

He saw him turn his head naturally far over his shoulder to look at him and a glimpse of the secondary eyes Acylius had opened and disappeared.

Standing up and turning to face him Hat tried not to look but it was....well kind of hard not to because there was nothing there between the man's thighs....it was like a blank canvas.

"Yes stare all you want, I only form what I want for self pleasure, but for my bed fellows I form what pleases them, shape size, type, human , in human, after all even today people are using devices shaped after non human entities, it's nothing new to me."

He stepped forward and took the mask pieces, his face expressing anything but a smile despite the scars that made it look like his face had a permanent one carved into it.

"Damn it, I'll have to go home to get this repaired, if I stay like this all winter....I won't be able to contain this form...."

Amadeus let curiosity get the better of him

"What , what do you mean?"

"The mask you just broke, it's what keeps me stable in this world, even now the earths metallic core is pulling at me, pulling me apart, if it was the height of summer I'd have to leave immediately....are you happy now that you know more than the other deluded morons who thought me a god I did not want to be."

Hat's breath hitched as he saw those scars parting and the snarl forming made of sharp teeth, his heart thumping, but not from fear.

"No, I didn't mean to.... I'm sorry..."

He whispered as he saw Acylius continuing to look over the mask.

"This is not an easy thing to break, you are not like the others of your breed, maybe I should put you on a discecting table after all , cut you open and see what makes you tick...."

He saw the fear in Hat's eyes and sighed

"It was a jest small one, I can just use my powers to examine you painlessly, all I would need is a little blood here and there to see what would be poisonous or not."

Acylius sighed and placed them carefully to one side.

"Please stop making everything so difficult, I simply intend to treat you as a doctor, the items I intend to use are herbal and medicinal, it'll help your body ache less and reduce swelling if you have any while also revitalising you, I will not touch anywhere that makes you uncomfortable, I'm a doctor first unless said patient is coherent and asks otherwise...by patient I mean you."

Part one

You are on part ten

#poll story #acylius flug #paperhat #2012 black hat #amadeus black hat #acylius #paperhat au #au as all hell #villainous #villainousau

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terrifictoonman · 9 months

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~On the PAW-sitive~

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[Story 01 || Week 24]

Written: 01/04/2024

Prompt: You become a witch’s cat after drinking a potion she gave you, promising to give you powers.

Prompt By: u/Akbones63lives (Reddit)

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Wanda stares gleefully from her living room couch at a black cat sitting on her coffee table with its back to her. Wanda reaches out to pet the cat, but it drops off of the table, landing in a pile of loose clothes farther away from her.

"Awww!" Wanda whines, "Come on, Felix! Just one pet? Just a quick one?" Felix turns his head to face Wanda, glaring at her with his piercing green eyes before looking forward again. Wanda pouts while lying on the table. "You're mean!"

"Says the witch who cursed me," Felix mumbles.

"And a damn good curse at that!" says Wanda. "Do you know how hard beast morphing spells are? All the ingredients, the amount of magic it takes out of me?" Wanda dramatically slides forward off the table, slumping to the ground closer to Felix. "I'm practically drained to husk! The least you could..." Wanda tries to sneak a pet, but Felix kicks her hand away with his hind leg.

"The deal wasn't for you to make me your pet cat!" says Felix, turning completely to face Wanda. "It was for you to give me powers!"

"Cats have powers," says Wanda. "They see well at night, have an incredible sense of touch, can hear better than dogs, and can fall twenty stories with little to no injury."

"And all of that would be pretty cool if I wasn't PHYSICALLY A CAT!" Felix yells. "And not just any cat, a black cat, everyone hates black cats!"

"Wow, stereotype much?" says Wanda. Felix raises a paw, flexing it to reveal a set of claws.

"I will scratch your face off," says Felix. Wanda nervously crawls back behind the table.

"I'm serious though," says Wanda, "put some respect on cats. Not everyone hates them, and why would they? They're self-reliant, beautiful creatures. They're stunningly graceful as they are sassy, loving when they want to be, can steal luck from others, have the most adorable toe beans..."

"Wait," Felix interrupts, leaping back onto the table, "say that again?"

"...toe beans?" Wanda asks. Felix looks at her, unamused.

"No, you said something about luck," says Felix, "that part."

"Cat's stealing luck?" Wanda asks. "It's a survival thing. They steal the luck from other creatures to help increase their chance of survival. It's where the myth about cats having nine lives came from."

Felix's face lightens up, possibilities filling his feline brain while pacing on the table. Seeing an opportunity, Wanda slowly and cautiously moves closer to the table, raising her hand and reaching out to pet Felix again. However, Felix jumps down from the table before Wanda can reach him.

"You know, maybe you're right," says Felix. "I should give this body a try, at least until you can turn me back. How about we head out for a walk and take these powers for a test run?" Wanda jumps to her feet in excitement with an overjoyed gasp.

"I'll get my coat!" says Wanda. Starting to run for the front door, Wanda slams her pinkie toe directly into a table leg. She immediately drops to the floor with a pained yelp, tears welling up as she holds her aching foot. Felix sassily walks by Wanda, using his tail to wipe her face as he passes.

"Oooh, rough luck," says Felix. "You really watch your step."

__________

Happy New Year!

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed the story.

You might have noticed a little extra color in my story this time around. Well, a certain someone (luv ya @doctorfelixir) thought it would be a good idea to use color to help differentiate who's talking. Probably won't be doing this much in the future, but hey, who knows.

If you have any comments, critiques, or corrections, please let me know (as long as they're constructive (or funny)).

Stay safe, keep warm, be kind to yourself and others, and here's hoping for a terrific 2024!

ToonMan, AWAY!

Next Week->

#writing prompt #fantasy #witch #black cat #potions #writing #creative writing #writeblr #first story of the new year!#witches #short story #pain #Don't be a jerk #friends don't make friends into pets

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harunayuuka2060 · 2 years

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Simeon: Luke, it seems that you're unable to write your notes. *chuckles*

Luke: *giggles*

MC: *sleeping on his notebook open* *lying on their back*

Luke: *plays with their toe beans*

The teacher: *clears throat*

Luke: !!!

The teacher: *lowers her voice* Mr. Luke, please pay attention to class.

Luke: Y-Yes, Miss...

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*At the cafeteria*

The other students: *watching Luke and MC*

Luke: *cuts the food into pieces*

Luke: Here, MC. You like meat more, right?

MC: Meow!

Luke: *giggles because MC makes cute, little growls while eating*

The other students: Aww~.

Luke: *doesn't notice their classmates' admiration towards MC* Here's some more. *gives them fried tempura*

MC: Mreowmreowmreow... *hisses when Simeon acts on stealing it*

Simeon: *chuckles*

Luke: Simeon?

Simeon: Sorry. Just trying to see if MC is still feisty.

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*The students trying to lure MC to their desk while Luke and Simeon are out*

The students: Come here, kitty-kitty~

MC: *snarls* *claws on anyone's hand who tries to touch them*

Satan: *clears throat* Everyone, you all should know that you shouldn't upset a cat.

The students: But we just want to play with them.

Satan: MC is a student of RAD. Please respect their boundaries.

The students: *all of them gets back to their respective desks*

MC: ...

MC: *looks at Satan*

Satan: *smiles*

MC: *hisses* *then do a turn before lying down*

Luke and Simeon: *have returned*

Simeon: Hm?

Luke: What's wrong, Simeon?

Simeon: I think our classmates have claw marks on their hands.

Luke: Eh? *looks at MC*

MC: *got exhausted and fell asleep*

Luke: *frowns slightly* *has guessed what had happened*

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me satan #luke's project

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pleasantanathema · 4 years

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Santa Daddy | Jean Kirstein x Reader

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Daddy kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, mutual pining, friends to lovers (or, rather, idiots to lovers), lots of holiday fluff

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift to @whats-her-quirk 🎄💕 June, thank you so much for being a wonderful friend; I was truly lucky and privileged to get you as my Elf for Secret Santa! I hope this fluffy (and dirty) little fic with our best boi Jean brings you some holiday cheer!

There were only a few things in the world that made you happier than watching Jean Kirstein smile. Like most of your friends, you’d met him through work, but there was always something so special, almost magical, about seeing his darling smile and hearing his boisterous laugh. And you rarely passed up on a chance to see delight spread across his handsome face, which is why you couldn’t say no when he asked you to join him on a get-a-away with your friends for the holidays.

The inquiry came after you mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the holidays due to a winter storm blowing in. It would be the second season in a row that the weather kept you from visiting home.

You could still hear his voice in your head, “alone? For Christmas?”

He’d then insisted you join him and his friends at Sasha’s family cabin. It was tradition for them, a gathering of misfits finding communion together out in the wilderness for a few days before the new year. You had taken trips with your friends before to amusement parks, festivals, even to the beach at Armin’s request, but something about being invited to an intimate setting to celebrate holiday traditions had you anxious.

So, there you were, swaddled in blankets, listening to Eren bicker with Mikasa while Sasha and Connie bustled in the kitchen to make eggnog and treats. Armin had declined to join, citing that he’d seen too many horror movies about young adults alone in cabins to feel comfortable making the trip.

And, true to form, Jean was running late. He was always late, his mind constantly moving a mile a minute unless he consigned himself to much needed rest and relaxation. Though, this time, you felt a little lonely while waiting for him on the couch, like there was a small part of you missing as you watched the snow fall outside.

“So, none of you guys go home for the holidays?” You looked over toward the modest, plastic tree that Sasha had thrown down from her attic to bring a little holiday cheer to the living room, a few poorly wrapped presents and bags nestled under the branches.

“Well,” Eren cleared his throat, “we are orphans.” He pulled at Mikasa’s scarf for emphasis.

“Oh fuck, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t worry about, he just always brings it up to get sympathy gifts.” Mikasa sighed, jerking the red cloth from his hands and scowling. Eren only laughed, brushing a stray hair from his face that had come loose from the bun at his nape.

You sunk a little deeper into the cushions, eyes glancing out the window in hopes you’d see headlights flash in the driveway.

“Do you think Jean’s okay? He should’ve been here a while ago and the storm is getting closer.”

“Jean, Jean, Jean,” Sasha trotted into the room, balancing a mountain of sweet-smelling cookies on a plate, “you’re always worried about him.”

“Someone should be, guy’s an idiot.” Eren chimed in, green eyes shining from the low flames rolling in the fireplace. He and Mikasa were sitting in the floor, a game of checkers spread out before them, with more stolen pieces resting near the cunning Ackerman’s side of the board.

Eren wasn’t wrong, but over the years you’d known your group of friends, you’d noticed just how much the man in question had grown. In his early twenties, Jean had been quite the bumbling fool, having literally met you by bumping into your shoulder while leaving work, only to look at you and mumble “god you’re beautiful,” before issuing a quick apology as he rubbed at his neck sheepishly. You’d never mentioned the moment again, though your stomach still churned with a slight thrill every time you thought about it.

But over the years he’d managed to turn that puerility into something much more charming. He was more refined, almost infuriatingly suave, easily gaining attention from anyone and everyone. And though you sometimes hated to admit it, he’d captured your thoughts as well.

You kept your budding crush on Jean Kirstein close to your chest, not admitting it to any of your close friends. You always figured he was out of your league, seeing that he had a new, more beautiful girlfriend just about every other month. But, despite your simmering feelings, you still allowed yourself to get closer and closer to him over the years—some might say he’s your best friend, but you might call him your most treasured vexation.

Another hour or so went by, your time spent nibbling at cookies and reminiscing with everyone about another year passed.

Then the door finally opened, cold air gusting into the small living room as Jean stomped his damp boots on the entry mat.

“Have you guys opened presents yet?”

You glanced over the back of the couch, heart tugging in your chest as you noticed snow dusted in his long hair and a sizeable red and white polka dot package in his hands.

“No because Christmas is tomorrow, or did you forget that too?” Connie said it with crumbs in his mouth, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

Jean laughed, running a hand through his hair before wrapping the gift in his arms like it was something valuable.

“I know, I know, and sorry I’m late, had something important to go get.” He smiled, bright and cheery, hazel eyes bouncing between his friends and the carefully guarded box, “I ask because…uh, this needs to be opened kind of soon.”

“Is it perishable?” Sasha perked up, already ready to go make room in the fridge if something delectable was waiting as a gift.

“I mean…you could say that? It may or may not be alive.” He was laughing, that kind of infectious laughter that had everyone in the room grinning whether they wanted to or not.

Jean didn’t set the present down to even take off his shoes, instead tracking snow in with him and plopping onto the couch with flurries still on shoulders. He nudged your knee with his, pushing the present toward you. You pressed your lips together, hands getting sweaty as you pieced the puzzle together.

“Is that…?”

“Yeah,” his grin was pulling at his cheeks, eyes so sincere and happy and it almost startled you, “it’s for you.”

The top of the box moved, the green bow popping on top of the polka dots.

You moved the gift into your lap, pulling off the top to find perky ears and green eyes peering up at you—a kitten, grey and striped, with long, white whiskers and a pink bow around its neck greeted you with muted curiosity. You just stared at it for a moment, and it stared back, like you were both wondering just how it got into your lap.

“I just,” Jean was getting nervous, carding his fingers through his hair again as he waited for your reaction, “I wanted to make sure you’d never spend another holiday alone, you know?”

You carefully picked up the little cat, watching how it stretched and yawned as you pulled it from the carefully lain blanket inside its temporary home.

You smiled, pulling the warm little bundle to your chest.

“Um, Jean, this cat has six toes on her paws,” you said, pressing your thumb gently against one of the extra appendages in question.

“Six toes?!” Sasha was jumping up from her seat, bounding over to kneel in front of you and pluck one of the kitten’s paws into her fingers. The cat quickly pulled its paw back, little black toe beans curling to its chest.

“Yeah, it’s what drew me to her. She’s extra special…” you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, a little musing of “just like you,” but any hushed murmur was overshadowed by the ohs and ahs of your friends gathering around to look at the adorable little creature.

The kitten had been lulled to sleep by the car ride from the shelter to the cabin, content to just curl up in your arms as inquisitive fingers prodded at her little kitten mittens and the silky, white tufts in her ears. Even Mikasa was enraptured by the tiny animal, taking the time to retie the little pink ribbon around her neck to make a bigger, prettier bow.

You noticed how your friends were whispering, cheeky grins pressed against eager ears as they looked between you, the precious kitten, and Jean on the couch. You were starting to feel like you were missing something, or maybe that you were at the end of a joke you hadn’t caught on to yet.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Jean after the fuss died down, everyone returning to their seats and back to their previous fixations.

You’d mentioned perhaps wanting a cat a few weeks ago; it was just a silly, off-hand comment you made over coffee about how you’d once read that people with cats live longer because they pick up on the nine-lives of their feline partner. You didn’t believe it to be true, but you’d mused about the idea of having a cute kitten of your own to snuggle up with on lonely nights.

“I know it’s sudden and a lot of responsibility, so if you don’t want her—”

“No,” you cut Jean off, bundling the kitten a little closer in your arms, your heart singing as you felt her start to purr, “no, I want her, she’s perfect.”

Jean finally started to get settled himself, standing up and shrugging off his jacket. He was in a tight turtleneck, coal black threads stretched to their limit across his broad chest and shoulders, hugging his trim waist. You were careful not to stare for too long as he stretched his arms above his head to shake off the weariness of his drive through the snow.

He always looked like he stepped out of a fashion catalogue, fresh and so put together that sometimes you were tempted to snap his photo when he wasn’t looking; he just looked that good all the time. He loved to wear designer clothes and keep up with the latest menswear trends, and tonight was no different, that beautiful black turtleneck (that was covered in grey fur) undoubtedly belonging to a designer whose name you probably couldn’t pronounce.

“What are you gonna name her?”

He sat a little closer this time on the couch, a brawny arm outstretched behind you as he leaned over to scratch at the kitten’s chin.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, gazing down at the serene, sleepy face in your arms, “I’ll have to get to know her first.”

“Well, I’ve been calling her Frankie.”

“Frankie?” You smiled through your confusion, the name sounding oddly right.

“She was pretty wild in the car and kept meowing when Frank Sinatra was on the radio.”

“I see,” you laid the kitten down into your lap, sweeping your fingers through her fur and watching as she curled up into a tighter little circle, “well, I’ll consider it.”

You felt warm, heavy fingers brush against the back of your neck, Jean absentmindedly painting figure eights into your prickling skin. Heat flushed to your face as you realized just how close your bodies had become—his thigh was pressed against your own, dark jeans tight and hot, the scruff of his cheeks brushing against your own as he toyed with the sleeping cat’s tail.

There were voices all around you, the muffled sounds of your friends relaxing together falling almost on deaf ears. Your whole world felt like it just revolved around this couch, like nothing else mattered beyond the simple touches to your skin and the drowsy kitten beneath your hands. He never wanted you to spend another holiday alone, you replayed his words, the sweet sentiment finally settling into your spirit.

_______________

You could tell everyone was starting to get a bit sleepy, a few hours spent drinking spiked eggnog and chasing the new kitten around with a feather toy having left you especially exhausted. Your head was a little swimmy as you bid everyone goodnight, the grey tabby cat following closely on your heels to your bedroom where Jean had already brought in a litter box and a bed for her to sleep in. Jean, underneath all the designer bravado and smiles, was perhaps the most thoughtful person you knew.

But despite the heaviness in your head, you couldn’t seem to sleep. You tossed and turned in the bed, occasionally picking up your phone to scroll through it or just watch the time tick by. You had a lot of thoughts mulling around in your mind, most of them revolving around the man sleeping just right across the hall.

Never in a million years did you expect Jean to walk in with a beautiful, perfect kitten as a gift. The little thing was back to sleeping again, this time curled around one of your feet, each exhale a little purr against your toes.

You’d carried the weight of this crush around for too many years. You rubbed your palms against your eyes, sighing as you came to terms with your feelings for Jean for what felt like the thousandth time. Your pining was starting to take its toll, too, what with the sleeping giant so close yet so far away.

And you still felt like you were missing something.

Throughout the night, your friends had seemingly been playing coy, teasing Jean about getting you such a big, sentimental gift. Maybe they had all caught wind of your suppressed feelings and were poking at Jean for even daring to indulge you. Now you were just getting frustrated with your thoughts, sighing as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep.

But then you heard a little sound, the soft buzz of your phone against the wood of the night stand.

Jean: You awake?

Your heart skipped a little in your chest as you saw his name flash upon your screen. You texted him nearly every day, yet he never failed to send a little jolt of adrenaline down your spine.

You: Yeah. Can’t sleep.

Jean: Me either. Cabin is too fucking cold.

You: I have a kitty asleep on my feet, definitely helps beat the chill.

Jean: A warm kitty sounds nice right now.

Only a few seconds passed before the next message appeared.

Jean: Wanna come keep me company?

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment, your mind not even thinking about the words in front of you. Instead, you were picturing Jean in his bed, hair tussled with his own phone in his hand as he texted you, light spilling over his bare chest in the dark. You wondered what he was thinking—maybe he just wanted you to bring the cat over to see him for a bit, or maybe his mind was wandering in the same place yours was, which was picturing him naked beneath his sheets.

You set the phone down, momentarily starting to panic.

You hadn’t prepared for this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility that Jean might be asking you to come get in his fucking bed with him. Thank god you took a leisurely shower earlier—and you still smelled good, you checked.

You stood up from the bed, watching the kitten stretch and quickly fall back asleep on top of the blankets. You bent down to slip on your pajama pants, but then found yourself debating if you should just leave the flimsy material behind.

If this was what you were hoping it was, walking in without pants would send the “I got the hint, I’m here to fuck,” message loud and clear.

But if this was just “hey pal come keep me company, I’m bored,” walking into his room in nothing but a shirt and panties could be quite awkward.

You decided to hedge your bets, stuffing your pajama bottoms back into your bag as that lingering liquid courage from the eggnog set in. If worse came to worse, you could always say you forgot to pack them.

You carefully closed the door behind you, making sure the cat didn’t follow.

Then, it was literally just a few steps to Jean’s room. Conveniently, his door was cracked. Did he get up and leave it open for you? Did he always sleep with his door cracked? Or had he planned all along to ask you to come over?

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. Those inessential thoughts needed to be quieted.

The door creaked as you slid past it, the old hinges signaling your arrival and making Jean’s attention whip towards you. His phone was still in his hand, like was watching your messages and too-eagerly anticipating your reply.

“Hey,” you whispered into the darkness, wincing as the door kept groaning as you pushed it shut behind you. You leaned against it for a moment, too nervous to just waltz up to his bed and fall in. You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to break the silence.

“Aren’t you cold?” He whispered back, shifting in the bed.

His figure was illuminated by the pale, grey light from window, the snow clouds still keeping the moon suppressed in the sky. Like you’d imagined, he was shirtless, all those hard-earned muscles on display from where he was propped up on his elbows, sheets low against his waist.

“I thought you were cold, Mr. No Shirt.”

“You’re not wearing pants.”

“I’m not wearing pants,” you parroted back.

You watched the smile spread across his face, that darling, infuriatingly pretty smile that made you a little too happy in this moment.

He pulled his sheets back in invitation, revealing that he, too, was not wearing pants, only clad in blue boxer briefs that were sinfully tight around his upper thighs, etchings of Calvin Klein pressed against his lower stomach.

His hands were on you before you even settled onto the mattress, warm and greedy and pulling you flush against his body. All those worried thoughts you had before vanished under his touch, the message you had been missing suddenly loud and clear: you weren’t the only one hiding your feelings. All those veiled emotions came alive beneath wandering hands, your fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as his found the flesh of your thighs.

“Was this what you were thinking about when you invited me here?”

You breathed in the smell of his warm skin as you settled against him, notes of his cologne still lingering against his body.

“This is what I think about all the time,” he confessed, nudging his thigh between your legs.

You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your mouth as the muscles of his thigh pressed against your aching core.

“Me too,” you were pulling his face down to yours, thumbs against his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his.

A satisfied sound rang from both of your throats, lips melding and slanting against one another hungrily.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His words were lost within the kiss, being swallowed down as you kept drinking him in.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You echoed back, gasping as his hands slid underneath your shirt and began to wander across your belly, reaching up toward your ribcage.

You both knew the answer to that: you were idiots, too scared to admit feelings even though they were clearly on display for everyone around you. But now the question didn’t matter, all the answers you wanted about to be shared between your anxious bodies with starved kisses and touches.

You shamelessly pressed yourself a little harder against his thigh, sighing as your pussy found relief against his leg. He groaned at your action, moving his thigh back and forth a little bit to see how you would react. When you whimpered, your own thighs squeezing around his, he smirked, repeating the motion of sweeping his thick, sturdy thigh back and forth between your legs.

“You like that?” His head was tilting down, teeth nipping at your jaw and down your neck as your head fell back against the pillow.

“Y-yes, feels so good.”

His hands were still traveling, wandering across your heated skin like he wanted to map your curves into his memory. He groaned against your throat when he discovered you’d also forgotten to wear anything under your t-shirt, his thumbs lazily brushing the undersides of your breasts.

You felt like you were burning beneath his sheets, like he was painting fire against your skin with every touch. His large hands engulfed your breasts, carefully kneading and rolling your soft flesh in his palms. He was eager to kiss you again, to slip his tongue past your parted lips and get addicted to your taste.

Jean pinched and pulled at your hardening nipples, greedily taking your little mewls into his mouth. He touched you like he already knew you, pulling at your body like you were the perfect little sex doll on strings for him to play with; rocking you on his thigh, tugging at your nipples, tongue dancing in your mouth, his hair tickling your cheeks, his cock hard and hot against his stomach.

Your panties were getting more and more wet by the second, the soaked material sinking into your folds as you rubbed yourself against the downy hairs and rounded, solid muscle of his upper thigh. His boxer briefs were bunching closer to his hips, pre-cum already staining against the fabric where his cock was imprinted into the threads. You slipped your hand down his impressive chest, fingers dipping into the elastic of his briefs.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling back to suck in a breath as your fingertips brushed against the head of his cock, “fuck you’re so hot riding my thigh like that, so fucking wet.”

“You did say you wanted a warm kitty.”

Your words had him pinching harder at your nipples, making you gasp as he chuckled.

“Mhm I can’t wait to play with your kitty, make you mine,” he punctuated his sentence by bouncing his leg up, sending electric pulses of pleasure racing over your nerves.

You responded by pulling his cock from its confines, wrapping your fingers around it and tugging at the silken skin. God he was thick, barely fitting in your palm as you moved your wrist up and down. You suddenly felt so small against him, realizing that he was dwarfing you just by lying next to you in the bed. His long, thick fingers could spread across the entirety of your chest, the thigh sliding against your pussy was enormous, but it felt like it belonged there; you could get used to riding him like this.

You both fell into a frenzied, delirious rhythm, your bodies bucking and panting as you found bliss against each other.

His hands slid down your body, leaving your tender breasts and searching for a new home. He found your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked you back and forth against his thigh himself, using the strength in his forearms to have your pussy pressed down against him in the most perfect way to have you seeing stars and whining his name.

“Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum just from riding me?”

“Fuck, yeah, yes, please, make me cum like this.”

Your hand had gone slack against his cock, your mind almost unable to concentrate under the waves of pleasure building and coiling inside you.

It felt too good to have his rapacious hands on your hips, grip mean and tight as he basically fucked you against his thigh. You wanted to scream, your other hand clawing at the back of his neck for stability.

“Baby,” he breathed, peppering a few kisses along your cheek, “could…could you call me daddy when you cum?”

There was a hesitancy in his voice, like he was ashamed to ask such a thing.

Your lower belly clenched, heat racing across all your nerve endings like he’d just poured sin straight out of his mouth.

You nodded your head for him, uncontrollable moans and gasps getting in the way of your own words. The thought of calling him daddy, that sent something wicked down to your pussy, had your fingers squeezing and tugging at his cock again and your eyes falling shut.

It felt like your sanity was breaking, like reality was splintering and this wasn’t real—you were dreaming again, weren’t you? But then you felt his cock twitch in your hand, felt your swollen clit brush against your panties and his thigh, and you were thrusted back into the actuality of your situation. You were with Jean, he was groaning in your ear, and you were about to cum all over him.

“D—da…,” you were choking, so overwhelmed with a final cresting of bliss that you almost felt like sobbing.

But he just clutched you more tightly, pressed you harder against him, whispering your name in encouragement to let yourself go for him.

Then, you lost all of your sensibilities, euphoria washing over your body as you snapped and came undone with a little whine of, “daddy,” against his lips. You slowed the rocking of your hips, your heart beating out of your chest, your pussy pulsing and clenching as you rode out the last remnants of your orgasm.

“Holy fucking shit that’s so hot, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, one of his hands smoothing against your cheek.

“Wha—,” you smiled, shaking your head as you caught your breath, “what are you doing with a daddy kink, Jean?”

He mimicked your smile, hands moving to slide your ruined panties down your legs and removed the rest of your clothing as he repositioned your bodies. You let him move you around like a ragdoll, so delirious in your afterglow that you barely even registered how he was hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

“Do you not like calling me daddy?” There was a seriousness laced into his tone that told you he’d drop it if it made you uncomfortable.

“I like it,” you fisted one of your hands in his hair, bringing his lips to yours for a slow, messy kiss, “just didn’t expect it.”

“I’m full of surprises, baby.”

You felt the head of his cock nudge between your wet folds, his hands back on your hips where they belonged. Your head fell back against the pillow as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls and making your toes go almost numb from the pleasure. You felt like you were splitting apart, like a fissure was forming down the middle of your body, stemming from where he was spearing into you.

With your legs on his broad shoulders, he was pushing you into the mattress, his hands urging your hips to relax and let him sink into your warm heat.

“Ohhhh fuckkkk daddy,” you couldn’t help but to whine, all your senses suddenly overwhelmed again. You were drowning in him, falling deeper and deeper into the throes of heaven with every inch of his fat cock slipping inside of you.

“God you’re so tight,” he presses his forehead to yours, keen eyes watching how your lips were falling apart and your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, “that’s right, daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

It felt like all your history with him was being wiped away, like this moment wasn’t about two friends fulfilling all their years of mutual pining, but instead about a new relationship blooming between two bodies full of lust and desire. This was about Jean fucking you senseless, about him taking control and finally having what’s belonged to him for longer than he probably even realized. You wanted to lose yourself to him, lose yourself to his appetite and just let him devour you.

All the air left your lungs when bottomed out inside of you, your walls clenching and sucking him in. He stayed still for a moment, nearly lost himself at the feeling of your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock.

“So fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging his cock out of you slowly before pressing in again, your cunt greedily sucking him back in.

“I always have been,” you teased, one hand lost in his hair while the other slid down the expanse of his back. You bucked your hips in his hands, coaxing him to keep moving.

“Oh fuck. Good girl.”

His praise made you feel drunk, liquid heat rushing to your ears and between your legs.

He began to snap his hips, repeatedly burying his cock into your depths, the angle of your body making him hit that fleshy patch inside of you. You cried out at the feeling of being so stuffed, your walls burning from the intrusion but that coil inside your belly tightening again, hotter and more intense than before.

“Mhmmm, such a good girl, I promise,” you pressed your lips to his in reassurance, letting your breathy moans fall into his mouth as he started to get a little rougher. His pace was steady, solid, a hard motion of his cock thrusting in and out of you, each push and pull full of purpose and passion. Every plunge was making your lower stomach spasm, making pleasure burst across your body so forcefully that you felt that urge to cry again.

“Wanted to fuck you for so long,” his face was tucked underneath your chin, mouth trailing across your throat between his words. A particularly hard suck against your neck had your back arching, breasts flattening against his chest and your nails clinging to him.

Jean sat back on his knees, big hands smoothing down your thighs as he looked to where your bodies were conjoined, watching how your pussy enveloped his cock with every thrust of his hips, sweet skin encasing all of his length. He looked enraptured by the sight, groaning and hissing every time he pressed inside of you.

Then his eyes were flashing up to your face, softening as he took note of your blissed-out state, your face flushed and your lip between your teeth.

“So pretty,” he mused, a palm ghosting up to your chest to toy with one of your tits as he found a new rhythm.

You were ensnared by the scene before you as well, eyes wide with delight as you admired the man before you. Jean felt unhinged, electric between your legs, like he’d finally let go and was pouring all his clandestine secrets into your willing body. His chestnut hair was swept over his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and across his body rolling, rounded and thick like he was marble come to life. And his face was smooth, pretty, concentrated, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body.

Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

“Daddy,” you called out to him, having to bite back a grin as you observed how quickly you earned his attention, “you feel s-so good,” your hand was traveling down your chest, trailing over his fingers on your breast before snaking down to your clit, “p-please let me cum again.”

You had an inkling that he would take over for you.

�� His thick, long fingers hovered over your own, carefully aiding in swirling over your aching clit. You hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly.

Jean’s other hand slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, legs tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted. His thumb was almost impatient on your clit, now circling so quickly that your body was shaking, lower stomach clenching and unclenching repeatedly like you were lost in a reckless tide.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last with you squeezing me like that, baby.”

Your mouth watered at the thought of him finding that ultimate pleasure inside of you. Your ears became tuned to the chorus of resonances between your legs, the sweet, wet sounds of skin against skin, of slick at the base of a fat cock, of Jean grunting your name like a lost prayer.

The final chord of your sanity was threatening to snap, you could feel it again, like he was pulling the strings of your body too tightly and you were going to splinter and break with just the right swipe of his thumb.

“I-inside,” you mewled, unable to keep your eyes open any longer as your thighs began to quake, “daddy—oh fuck, fuck—cum inside me, please,”

God you were so fucking close to falling off the edge, and he could feel it, using his grip to bring you even harder and faster down onto your cock to get you careening and falling again.

Your push into oblivion came when you heard him pleading, almost whining, above you, sweat dripping down his skin as his syllables flowed together, “please, please, please, fuck, cum for daddy, cum for me, please.”

You could both feel it, how you creamed around his cock, pussy sucking him in so deliciously tight that it caused him to lose all control. His fingers dug a little too deep, his cock throbbing and pumping deep inside of you with his release. It was like the world went quiet, like a blanket of snow fell onto your bodies and hushed your sounds and cooled your skin. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, like he was meant to be there. Your body relaxed, feeling like you were sinking into the mattress and he was the only thing keeping you from being lost.

When he finally pulled his spent cock from inside you, he wasn’t gone long. His hands were back on you again, pulling you in for simple, affectionate kisses and rubbing tenderly at the places he’d perhaps explored too roughly.

“Jean…” you cut yourself off with a yawn, fatigued limbs winding into his own.

His thigh found its home between your legs again, both of you groaning with a mixture of lust and disgust as you felt his cum drip into a mess between your thighs.

“Whatever it is can wait until morning, we need to sleep.”

“Oh fuck, it’s Christmas.”

He nuzzled your cheek, lips searching for yours.

“Mhmm, Merry Christmas, baby.”

You laughed, laying your head against his chest.

_______________

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but it felt like you spent a small eternity in Jean’s bed before your eyes opened again. When you awoke, he was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the kitten in his arms. She was ready to play, striped tail swishing as he dangled a toy mouse just out of her reach.

“What time is it?” You stretched, suddenly all too aware that you were still very naked beneath the sheets.

“It’s only eight, everyone else is still asleep aside from Mikasa who actually went for a run in the fucking snow.”

Jean smiled, hair tucked behind his ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized just how madly in love with him you were. You always aimed to make him smile, to hear him laugh, but to see him gazing at you in the morning sun with pure adoration shining in his hazel eyes had you practically melting into the bed.

“I meant what I said last night, you know,” he said, turning the kitten loose to run across the bed.

“You said a lot of things last night, daddy,” you teased, watching his cheeks turn a pretty pink at the mention of that name.

“I meant about you never spending another holiday alone. Because, you know, I’d like to…” he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck like he was genuinely nervous.

You sat up, running a hand down his arm before kissing at his shoulder, momentarily getting lost in the smell and feel of him.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

No one was surprised that the two of you, and the kitten, spent every single holiday together thereafter, mostly naked, and always smiling.

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein x you #aot jean #aot jean kirstein #snk jean #snk jean kirstein #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #snk #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot #jean aot #jean kirstein fanfic

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controlkris · 3 years

Note

Send “ you and Susie should bring some self designed stuff like drawings and notebooks to the dark world , even rocks and plastic gems might give you something Interesting, also have you noticed that ralsie looks like he could be your cousin”

Kris looks thoughtful at your suggestion, then looks befuddled at the last part. They don't say anything back, however.

Ralsei has explained that the Color Cafe is here, too! It's bustling inside, with many citizens.

(time to check every single one of them..... oh........)

TASQUE MANAGER

* The manager of all the tasques, she's very strict, but only to everything that's NOT a tasque...

HOTNESS: 5/10

meh. she's okay, you think. Her mask is off-putting. She's tough, which is cool. But... You dunno, she's just so... refined. Not your type. But you can see someone else liking her.

KILL DIFFICULTY: 8/10

She's mean, she's got an electrified whip, fighting her means you gotta FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS... plus all her cats. You wouldn't want to.

TASQUE

* A friendly feline. You want to cuddle it.

HOTNESS: dude. no.

KILL DIFFICULTY: 10/10

It's a cat. Easy to kill, but oh... the emotional pain.

ADDISONS

* They're Addisons! All they do is advertise! Even now, they're holding up their drinks like a product placement...

HOTNESS: 2/10

They're just some guys. Who cares. You think the glowings cool, though.

DIFFICULT TO KILL: 10/10

Judging by how hard it is to fucking get rid of an ad on your computer, these guys must be like cockroaches. An ad blocker though... Oh... That'd change it up.

Kris sees the Tasque, and immediately goes over to pet it.

"Excuse you!" Tasque Manager scolds, shocking Kris with her whip. "Do NOT touch my tasques."

"Why not? They like pets, don't they?" Kris asks, trying to focus through the song that is now playing in their head.

"You would have to ASK first."

"Oh."

Kris looks down at the Tasque. "Hey... Could I... Pet you?"

The Tasque mrrps, and nuzzles Kris. Kris smiles and sits down, running their hands through the fur excitedly. They also squish the Tasques toe beans. Both parties seem happy about this.

#👾 kris #🏰 castletown

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fickleminder · 4 years

Text

the years start coming and they don’t stop coming

In which Lilith’s return distorts her brothers’ perception of time.

Part 2 here

You’ve never seen the demon prince look so embarrassed.

“I can call for —”

“No, it’s okay. They deserve this.”

But you don’t, goes unspoken. You can see the pity in his eyes, feel the palpable disappointment in the air. Even Simeon and Luke make sure to hug you extra tight before stepping through the portal to the Celestial Realm, and Solomon promises to check up on you after you’ve returned home.

Thanking Lord Diavolo and Barbatos for their hospitality, you turn towards the final demon in the council room and put on the biggest grin your breaking heart can muster. “Hey, c’mere.”

Satan doesn’t hesitate to throw his arms around you. It’s almost like he’s trying to make up for his brothers’ absence, the way he crushes you to his chest and cradles the back of your head.

You can’t find it in yourself to blame them. As far as miracles go, this is a pretty big one. Lilith coming back to life is an unprecedented event, one not even Barbatos had seen coming. Nobody has any answers either. She’s definitely not a demon, not an angel, not human; just an immortal who knocked on the front door of the House of Lamentation three days ago.

Her brothers haven’t left her alone since. You’re happy for them, you really are, but a bitter part of you can’t help but wish her return had waited until after the exchange program ended. At least Lucifer had the courtesy to pull you aside and thank you on his family’s behalf (though you’re quite certain you had nothing to do with your ancestor’s sudden revival), in addition to making a pact with you as a token of his gratitude.

With that, you could have summoned all of them to send you off just as effectively as Lord Diavolo giving the order, but it won’t be the same and you know it. Your only saving grace is Satan, the one brother who’d kept his head and anchored you in the sea of loneliness you’d been set adrift in over the last few days.

“I’m gonna miss you, cat boy.”

“I miss you already,” Satan laughs softly, pulling back with a warm smile. “I’ll stay in touch, I promise.”

You squeeze his arms affectionately and glance past his shoulders at the closed doors. There’s the smallest shred of hope in you that thinks the others will come bursting through any moment now, scrambling for one final chance to see you. You give yourself five seconds, silently counting down to a pipe dream, before pressing a kiss to Satan’s cheek and releasing him.

“It might not seem like it now, but the Devildom will always be here for you,” Lord Diavolo says as the world around you fades to white. “Farewell.”

“Did you lose track of time at the library again? You missed dinner last night LOL.”

“Levi, be nice!”

Satan only hums quietly in response. He can’t be bothered to correct the assumption; it’s a convenient excuse for when his brothers actually notice he’s missing anyway.

The irony of Levi calling him out isn’t lost on him. While the otaku is still obsessed with his games and shows, he’s no longer as shut-in as he used to be, venturing outside the comforts of his sanctuary more often. Satan has passed by the common room on many occasions to find him and Lilith gaming or binging anime together, and the content expression on Levi’s face proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that the void from his Henry’s departure has long been filled.

“Oh, but speaking of,” Lilith sets her cutlery down and smiles shyly at the fourth-born, “I haven’t had the chance to explore the libraries here yet. If it’s not too much trouble, can you show me around and recommend a few books?”

Shrugging non-committedly, Satan continues with his meal, not once looking her in the eye.

You’ve always wondered how someone with the Avatar of Lust for a brother can have such terrible fashion sense. It should be impossible to go wrong with dressing for a funeral, but you guess life (along with a certain eyesore of a tie) just loves to disappoint you. Still, you’re too glad to have Satan with you right now to care.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Anytime.”

You lean into the demon’s side as he holds an umbrella over both of you. Your eyes are drawn to the flowers he’d placed on your mother’s grave, the only splash of color against the dull tombstone. For the longest time, all you can process is the pitter-patter of the afternoon rain on the plastic wrap of the bouquet, and the comforting weight of Satan’s arm across your shoulders.

“She was in a lot of pain,” you admit after a while, your voice slightly hoarse. “The doctors had to sedate her. She went in her sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” Satan fidgets awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. He’s no stranger to death, but the loss of someone dear is unfamiliar to him. “Perhaps Simeon can find out if —”

“No, no it’s fine. I just — I need to —”

The umbrella is forgotten as Satan catches you, lowering you gently to the ground when your knees give way. You cling to him desperately, and it’s all he can do to draw you close as you start to wail.

Satan barely makes it three steps into the house before getting pounced on.

“How was it? Where did you go? Ooh you lucky demon, I want to hear all the details!”

“Oi, oi! What are you babbling on about?”

“Don’t act coy with me! Lilith saw you at the florist’s yesterday with the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers!”

“Yesterday? But —”

“How come you never told me someone caught your eye? I would have dolled you up, lent you some of my clothes —” Asmo gasps dramatically. “You didn’t wear that horrid jacket to your date, did you?”

Wrestling a hand free, Satan musses his younger brother’s hair. “None of your business,” he growls, walking away with a smirk when Asmo immediately releases him to fix his appearance. “Who do you take me for, anyway?”

“Aww come on, just give me a hint! Do I know them? Is it someone from RAD? Ooh, did you meet them at the library or —”

Ducking into the safety of his room, Satan shuts the door in Asmo’s face.

“Thank fuck. Who picked your outfit this time?”

“Barbatos. And shut up.”

You grab Satan’s arm with a laugh and lead him towards your table, politely introducing him as ‘Stan from work’ to any relatives who ask about the handsome young man accompanying you. Satan’s usual mask is in place, but there’s no mistaking the gleam of wonder in his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

“Finally,” you sigh, sinking into your seat and grinning sheepishly at the blond. “Sorry about them. It’s just that they’ve never seen me with anyone, so they’re really curious about you.”

“Well, I’m glad you invited me along. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” The romantic in Satan is openly basking in the ambience of the reception. “You mentioned that your niece had gotten married?”

“Technically my first cousin once removed, but yeah.”

“And you’ve not been seeing anyone?”

“You would have been the first to know if I have,” you tease, nudging him playfully. “Apparently a lot of people are put off by the way I dress. Too modest, they say.”

But not without good reason. The pact marks on your body may be slightly faded from disuse, but they’re still discernable if stared at hard enough: Lucifer’s at the back of your neck; Mammon’s over your heart; Levi’s curled around your right calf; Satan’s circling your left arm; Asmo’s dangerously close to tramp stamp territory; Beel’s just under your navel; and Belphie’s on your ribs at the side you like to sleep on.

Passing them off as tattoos without attracting the wrong kind of attention is a little tricky, so you’d rather take a page from Solomon’s book and cover them up. Being called a prude is easier than dealing with cultists.

(It also helps you to keep your mind off of them, because some wounds continue to hurt even after they heal, so there’s that.)

Sensing the drop in your mood, Satan clears his throat to get your attention. It’s only then that you realize there’s music playing in the background, and couples moving from their tables to the floor.

Your companion stands up and offers you his hand, this time with a genuine smile on his face. “May I have this dance?”

Lucifer’s tone books no room for argument. “This will be a family event, so I expect your attendance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your little escapades over the past few months.”

“Tch.”

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Whatever. I’ll be there.”

Satan has to resist the urge to hurl his hardcover at the back of Lucifer’s head when he takes his leave. That’s no way to treat a book, after all.

Beel’s Fangol team has an upcoming match and it’ll be Lilith’s first time watching him play. She’s been hyped up for weeks, so it comes as no surprise that Lucifer would use the opportunity to turn it into a family outing. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

Gone is the stuffy first-born who can spend days in his office if left unchecked. Lucifer is still as strict as ever, still fulfills his duties to Lord Diavolo diligently, but it’s like he’s managed to master balancing work and play overnight. He makes more time for his siblings now, even if it’s to dole out punishments for their endless shenanigans, punishments that vary in severity depending on how cutely Lilith pleads on their behalf.

Lucifer has always doted on her, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. Belphie has even gone as far as corrupting her into pranking him, and she need only bat her eyelashes to get off scot-free.

Lilith was the catalyst for the Fall, her descendent the glue that brought her siblings back together, and her return the final piece in making their family whole again.

But you were family too, Satan thinks sourly, pulling out his D.D.D. to mark the date in his calendar.

When you invite Satan over to your apartment for tea, he never expected to be introduced to your new housemate: a handsome fellow with chestnut brown hair, sharp jade eyes, a runner’s body, and the softest-looking toe beans he has ever seen in his immortal life.

“Satan, meet Satan!” You hold out the tabby towards him with a shit-eating grin.

Both demon and cat blink owlishly at each other. The blond doesn’t know whether to feel endeared by the feline sharing his name or insulted that you would replace him so easily, but all it takes is a single bop on the nose with a curious paw for him to melt.

Satan the tabby, who normally prefers to scale your shelves and nap between your books, spends the entire day a purring puddle in Satan the demon’s arms, shamelessly relishing in pets and massages to the extent that at some point, you have a very real fear they might just end up absconding back to the Devildom together. Thankfully, some kibble and freshly baked treats help you separate the two for a while, at least long enough for you to get some decent conversation in.

You brew a pot of Earl Grey with the beautifully crafted tea set Barbatos gifted you when you had first moved in, and serve the scones you made earlier in the morning using the baking tools blessed by Luke during your housewarming. You don’t know if the little angel had actually imbued them with Celestial magic, but everything you cook somehow always lifts your spirits when consumed.

Satan has to catch himself in the middle of regaling you with Mammon’s latest half-baked scheme. The wistful look on your face is new; you’re usually eager to hear what his brothers have been up to, but something feels off today. He pours you more tea, slides another scone onto your plate, and waits.

“…Are they happy?” You ask after a while.

The demon knows better than to lie, even if it’s to spare you from the truth he suspects you’re already aware of. “Yes,” he admits grudgingly.

“I’m glad.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

Lilith stands outside his room, holding a tray of tea and cakes.

“Hey, um, may I come in?” Her smile is both hopeful and uncertain. It’s a gamble, ambushing the fourth-born when he obviously has no interest in her. At best, he’ll make up an excuse to turn her away or just ignore her completely; at worst, well… she doesn’t really want to think about that. To her visible relief, he opens the door wider and steps aside.

Satan clears a space for her to set the tray down. There’s the briefest moment of hesitation before he drags your favorite armchair over and offers her a seat as well. He looks guarded but not openly hostile, a promising sign so far.

“You’ve been in and out of the house lately, so I haven’t had the chance to catch you. I thought we might sit down and talk,” Lilith says, pouring two cups of the hot beverage as she chooses her next words carefully. “The others told me about how you were born, but I understand that you are your own person. I’d like to get to know that person.”

A part of Satan is acutely aware of their one-sided relationship; he is familiar with her through Lucifer, but she has never met him. It makes sense for her to be curious about him, though Satan isn’t so sure he wants to return the favor. She reminds him too much of you in the way she prepares her tea, how she sits on your chair, her shy lopsided smile —

But she’s not you, and you’re not her, Satan has to remind himself lest he commits the same mistake his brothers nearly did after your lineage had been revealed. Now in a convoluted turn of events, it’s you who’s gone and Lilith here, and there’s no reason why he can’t give her a chance and treat her like the sister she could be to him.

It’s what you would have wanted.

Lilith tries not to let her shoulders slump too much when Satan quietly stands up and heads towards his door. She’s prepared to pack up and leave until she spots him grabbing several books from a nearby shelf.

“Have you ever read Mid-Fall Murders?” He asks, handing her a hardcover with a shy smile of his own.

“What’s it like?”

Satan’s grip on your hand tightens. “I don’t actually know,” he confesses, shuffling closer so that your shoulder and arm are pressed against his. It’s a strange sight, the two of you lying side by side on your bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

“Will it hurt?”

“No.”

You’ve never heard a single word hold so much promise, but you have no reason to doubt the demon’s sincerity. Satan wouldn’t take pity on you just because you’re —

A light knock on the door, and in pokes Simeon’s head. “Ah, little lamb! I’m glad we made it in time.”

“Not so little anymore, Simeon.” You laugh softly, greeting Luke and Solomon as they trail in behind him. Satan brushes his lips over your forehead before getting up to receive your guests.

The day is as ordinary as it can be. You talk and catch up with your friends, trading stories and laughter over cups of tea that neither grow cold nor go empty. When the session turns into a mini book club gathering halfway through, Luke helpfully retrieves the debated titles from the massive shelf in the living room. He takes a while to find them; you’ve accumulated plenty of works over the years: recommendations by Satan, literature published under Simeon’s pseudonym, and handwritten tomes from Solomon to keep you in touch with your magic. The shelf is practically jam-packed with books, the only exception being a corner on the topmost tier, housing a little space that’s empty save for a worn green collar with a rusted bell.

Come sundown the five of you are still neck-deep in discussion, but as with all good things, the get together eventually reaches an end.

“Thanks everyone, it’s been fun,” you say, reclining back in your bed as Satan wordlessly cleans up. You squeeze his hand when he returns to your side and bid the others goodbye. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys soon?”

“About that…” Solomon clears his throat, wearing the smug look that usually accompanies a trick being pulled out of his sleeve, but this time it’s tinged more with excitement than mischief. “Simeon has a little present for you first.”

The guileless smile on the angel’s face betrays nothing as he steps forward and reaches into a small pouch at his hip. “Solomon, Diavolo and I have a theory. Now, keep in mind that this is all very experimental, but if it works, you’ll have more options to choose from, should you so wish.”

And then he brings out a ring.

“Are you, uh, are you okay?”

“Not in the mood, Mammon.”

“Oi, I’m trying to be nice here! Who do you think covered for your sorry ass when you came back past curfew the other day, huh?”

“What the hell do you want?”

“You may think you’re all stealthy and shit, but your eyes were pretty red that night. I thought you were at a book club meeting. Did something happen?”

“None of your business.”

“Argh, fine then! This is the last time I try to be a good big brother.”

“…Mammon?”

“?”

“...”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh, what are you — you can’t just say that and then run off! Get back here!”

“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…”

Lilith’s countdown echoes along the deserted hallway, prompting Beel to nudge the deadweight on his back. “Belphie, go get your own hiding place.”

“Mmngh… zzz…”

“Come on, or she’ll win this round with a two for one. Again.”

“…Just dump me somewhere she won’t find me then.”

A tall order, especially since Lilith can easily track them down by listening out for Beel’s stomach and/or Belphie’s snores. Still, the sixth-born lumbers through the house as quietly as he can, doing a one-eighty whenever he hears Lilith’s cheerful hums coming from the opposite direction. Technically they can avoid being caught if they keep moving, but that would be cheating. They hid in the attic previously so that’s a no go, their room’s too obvious, the kitchen too tempting, the common room too exposed…

Maybe Levi’s room? The otaku had sound-proofed his walls to avoid distractions from the outside world when he’s gaming, so it’s an ideal location to hide. He can stash Belphie in the bathtub and run interference until time’s up.

Backtracking, Beel breaks into a light jog towards the other wing, keeping his ears open for their seeker. It’s only because of his heightened senses that he’s able to pick up the faintest traces of magic on one of the walls, causing him to pause in his steps.

“Hmm? Why’d you stop?” Slightly more awake now, Belphie rubs his eyes and slides off his twin, who’s studying the blank space intently. “What’s wrong, Beel?”

“There’s something here, something…”

“It’s just a wall —”

“No, don’t you feel it? I know you weren’t around then, but it’s the same glamor as that time Luke went missing and we —”

Beel goes white. He whispers a name, a name not spoken in the house for years, and a door flickers into view. One hand grabs Belphie’s in a death grip as the other twists the knob and pushes the door open, revealing an old yet familiar room.

The place is devoid of life. Most of the furniture are covered by sheets, resting under thick layers of dust. In the middle sits a tree, sagging with age and soft with rot. Sunken footprints mark the demons’ furtive venture into decrepit memory, and the creaking of floorboards with every step only tethers the growing nightmare closer to reality.

A photo frame crashes to the ground.

They deserve this.

Satan feels it the moment the spell concealing your room was broken. It had been his way of protecting your memory, ensuring that your sanctuary would only be accessible to those who made the effort to remember you. He cast it about a year after you had left the Devildom, after he realized that leaving your door in plain sight wasn’t doing you any favors.

Hidden away in an alcove at the back of the garden, curled up with a blanket and a thermos of hot tea, Satan slides a bookmark between the pages of his latest novel and leans his head back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

Even this far away from the house, he can hear the cacophony of screams and shouts, objects being flung and shattered into pieces, a muted bang suggesting that a wall has just collapsed. The fallout comes as no surprise; waking up after living the past hundred years or so in a daze will do that to a person – or in this case, demons.

Although the sounds of fighting call to the rage bubbling within him, the vindictive thoughts of his brothers getting their just desserts cool it to a simmer. He knows he’ll have to face them eventually, but he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“Meow?”

Emerald eyes blink open. There’s a faint rustle from the nearby bushes as a tiny Calico wanders out of the foliage, peering around the garden curiously. Upon spotting the blond demon, it perks up and makes a beeline for him.

“Hm? You’re not Callie. Are you new here, little one?” His mood considerably improved, Satan extends a hand towards the kitten. It skips the finger sniffing step and goes straight to headbutting his palm, begging for attention.

“You’re an affectionate one, aren’t you?” Satan caves immediately and scritches away with a delighted chuckle. He examines the markings on its tri-colored fur, wanting to recognize the friendly feline if it comes back in the future. The Calico is mostly white with patches of brown and black splashed over the back of its neck, near the base of its tail, just under the side of its ribs, and several other spots that seem to collectively resemble a familiar pattern…

Satan’s hand stills. He whispers your name, trembling with hope, and the kitten practically leaps into his arms, nuzzling his chin with a happy purr.

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me replaced mc au

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sunsumu · 4 years

Text

Surprise!!

Inarizaki x Team Manager!y/n

Genre: fluff scenario

a/n: someone sent in a birthday req for inarizaki, i think they deleted their req tho ))): anyways today is (or at least in my time zone) is their birthday! i kind of rushed this because i didn't really know what to write..BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!! happy birthday!! sorry this is kinda of late. i didn't really get specific with the present y/n gets or the cake she eats because you guys can substitute it with what you like. this isn't my best best work, but i tried..anyways hope you enjoy!!! -admin oli💫

“She’s turning the corner annnnnd.....SHE’S GONE! Alright guys, what’s the plan?”

It was their manager’s birthday in two days, so the team decided to plan a surprise party for her. They wanted to show her their appreciation for all she’ve done for the team.

“So Osamu will make the cake, we already got permission to keep it in the teacher’s lounge. The rest of us will do the decorations,” Kita explained.

As he continued he looked up at Atsumu.

“Atsumu, you have the most important part, you think you can handle it?”

“Pfft I can handle anything ya throw at me,” Atsumu answered with a confident smirk.

“You can’t even do ya own laundry without mom hollering at you ‘Tsumu,” Osamu said.

“Oi no one asked ya, ya ugly piece of shit!!”

“We have the same face dumbass.”

“You think I’m the dumbass?? What about-“

“Can both of you shut the fuck up??” Suna interjected. Hearing the twins bicker usually amuses him but this time it pissed him off.

The twins stopped fighting when they saw the look on Kita’s face.

“Anyways, Atsumu you will have the job of distracting y/n until we give you okay to let her come in.”

“Easy, I’m her favourite ya know.”

The whole team stares at Atsumu with disgusted looks on their faces as Atsumu gave a pleased, closed eye smile.

“I knew he has an ego but I didn’t know it was this bad,” one of the members whispered.

“Alright! Let’s do this Opperation y/n is now under go.”

“You’ve been watching too many spy movies, Aran. It’s making you meta,” Suna pointed out.

“Shut up eagle 2.”

Osamu makes eye contact with a make believe camera.

“People think Aran is the mature one but he’s lowkey a geek.”

“Where the fuck are you looking at and who are you talking to-“

“If you’re asking me Osamu is the meta one,” Aran added.

“JUST CUT TO THE NEXT SCENE ALREAD-“

The next day, the team was on their toes. y/n couldn’t help but notice that they were acting a little weird.

They were gathered together and kept whispering to each other. They kept looking behind them as if someone was following them.

She poked her head into their little huddle.

“So what we talking about boys?”

“AAAAAAAAH!!”

“SCATTER SCATTER CAT HAS ENTERED RUN. PISS HAIR PROCEED DISTRACTION”

With that the team scattered with a few rushed “hey y/n!!” and nervous laughter. Atsumu was left standing in front of you, staring at his team in disbelief.

“Did they just abandon me?? I mean it is my job to distract her but they wouldn’t even tell me what they got her for a present...” he mumbled to himself.

“Jeez what’s up with them? Wanna go buy some bread from the cafeteria Atsumu?”

“Huh? What Oh yeah yeah sure,” he replied distractedly with a slight pout on his face.

He followed in y/n steps toward the cafeteria.

“Well that’s weird but then again it’s Inarizaki. People think we’re intimidating but they’re kinda off...” y/n thought to herself.

She decided to ignore their behaviour for now. Maybe if she messed with Atsumu he’ll spill the beans, but right now all she wants to do is go home and sleep.

At practice things were a little off. It was shorter than usual and the team seemed distracted.

“Alright, tomorrow’s practice will begin later than usual, so you guys don’t have to come early. That goes for you to y/n.”

“Will do captain!!” y/n replied cheerfully.

The team was in an awkward silence. The guys suddenly stared up at Atsumu. It took him a hot second to figure out what they were signalling.

“OH HEY Y/N!!”

“We’re standing next to each other you don’t have to yell-“

“Let’s go to this uhh place yeah this place after school tomorrow!! Since we have time before practice starts.”

The team collectively let out a small groan.

“hmm...sure! I got nothing else to do. Anyways I’m gonna leave first, see ya tomorrow!!” y/n said tiredly.

y/n walked out of the gym to head home, where her bed is waiting.

“This place.’ Nice one ‘Tsumu,” Osamu said sarcastically.

“Hey, it worked and she didn’t question it, so it’s FINE. You try to improvise on the spot.” he retorted.

Kita grabs the team’s five second attention span.

“Okay so tomorrow we meet up usual time. Atsumu you keep her with you at all times. We’ll bring in the cake and decorate the gym,” he said.

“What about the present?” their libero asked.

“I got that. I’ll bring it tomorrow and we can wrap it here too. It would look to suspicious if I walked into school with a present in hand.” Suna said.

“What did we get her?” Atsumu asked.

“Can’t tell ya. Ya mouth is gonna run loose.” Osamu replied.

Atsumu frowned, knowing it’s true.

“Okay, we all set for tomorrow? Everyone understands their roles?”

“Yessir!!” the team answered in unison.

“Day 2 of Operation y/n begins now.”

“Shouldn’t you be saying that tomorrow?” Suna questioned.

“Oh shut up with your technicalities.”

y/n’s whole day was the same as usual, ignoring the fact that the team has been weird lately. She feels like she forgot something though. Today feels like it should be more special but she doesn’t know why...

“Hey y/n let’s go!” Atsumu called from the classroom door.

“Coming!!”

Atsumu and y/n walk out of school together.

“So where are we going, Atsumu?” y/n asked curiously.

“It’s a surprise!” he replied with a wink.

The road they walk on slowly turns into dirt. Atsumu suddenly puts his hands over y/n’s eyes.

“Oh god, I always knew you’d be the one that kills me,” y/n said with a gasp.

“What the fuck are ya on?? No, I just want you to be surprised.”

Atsumu guided y/n forward and turned her. He released his hands from her eyes. In front of her was a field of flowers.

y/n’s eyes lit up with excitement and wonder.

“WOAHH ATSUMU HOW DID YOU FIND THIS PLACE?? ITS SO PRETTYY!!” she exclaimed.

“I have my ways. I knew you’d like it.”

He winked again.

The two of them spent some time wondering the field, being careful to not trample any flowers, and taking pictures.

Atsumu’s phone went off. It was a text message from Kita.

[Captain Kita: get y/n here in 10 mins.]

[Tsumu: will do boss!!]

“y/n!!! practice is gonna start soon let’s head back.”

“awww but it’s so pretty hereeee...can’t we just stay a little longer??” she pleaded with a pout.

Atsumu chuckles, “We can come back tomorrow if you want.”

y/n eyes are lit up with the excitement of a child.

“REALLY?? YOU’RE DA BEST ATSUMU!!” she exclaimed while hugging him.

The both of them walked back to school, talking about their plans to come back to the flower field.

[Captain Kita: you can bring her into the gym]

[Captain Kita: everything is ready👍👍]

“y/n you go to the gym ahead! I need to uh go to the...restroom! yeha i need to go to the restroom real quick!!” Atsumu said as he ran off in the opposite direction of the restroom.

y/n walked up to the gym doors. She slowly opens them. She is welcomed with darkness. The lights are off.

Suddenly they flash on.

“SURPRISEE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!”

y/n was shocked. This was what they were doing? Planning for a birthday that she forgot she had and NOT her murder?

“oh my god...y-you guys didn’t have to,” she stuttered.

“We wanted to show you how much we appreciated you!! You do a lot for the club, y/n,” Kita replied.

“NOW OPEN YA PRESENT, I’VE BEEN DYING TO KNOW WHAT IT IS,” Atsumu yelled, kind of out of breath.

“Where did you come from-“

“Took the long way around,” he replied.

y/n takes the nicely wrapped gift into her hands. She immediately starts shaking it.

“y/n you’re gonna break it, just open it-“

y/n carefully takes off the wrapping paper. It was too nice, she didn’t want tear it up. What she saw made her so happy. It was something she has always wanted!!

“Oh my god, THANKS GUYS!! How did you know that I wanted this?”

“You’ve mentioned it a couple of times and I saw you looking at them on Amazon during our free time,” Suna answered.

Osamu turned to y/n and handed her a slice of cake, “Have some cake y/n. I spent all night baking it.”

y/n took a bite of her favourite flavour cake.

“THISHH ISH SHOO GOODJS OSHAMYU!!” she exclaimed with her mouth full of cake.

The rest of the team got their slices and sat down eating it. They were making jokes and laughing. All in all they were having a good time together. Opperation y/n was a success.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x you #shinsuke kita x reader #osamu miya #kita shinsuke #atsumu imagine #osamu miya x reader #suna x reader #x reader #one shot #admin oli

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feral--bog--witch · 4 years

Text

I don't know if anyone of my mutuals are from Texas but here is a really good list of winter survival tips from a lady who lives where it gets to be -40C (up to -55C sometimes).

Layer your clothes.

Start with leggings or skin tight pants, then put sweats or another fuzzy type pant over top of that. Put on a tank top, then a t-shirt, then a sweater, then a coat. Same with socks. Layer your socks as well. HOWEVER do not put so much on that you start sweating. If you start sweating you MUST remove a layer to where you are warm but NOT hot. If you get cold while you are sweating, it negates all your layers and you WILL get cold faster.

For going outside without winter gear.

Do the layering and if you have wind pants or a wind jacket (waterproof outer shells can work too), put that over top of your clothes. Its not rated for cold weather but it will keep the wind from cutting through you which is a big thing that can affect your core body temperature. The wind will be freezing and it won't take you long to get freezing as well if it can cut through your clothes.

For your feet, water proof foot wear but NOT rubber boots. Those will make your feet freeze.

And for gloves, if you don't have any, you can make some quick ones out of socks but you MUST put them on BEFORE you go outside otherwise it negates the reason for them. They KEEP you warm, not MAKE you warm.

Also remember leggings can be doubled as a scarf and you can and will lose heat through your head so wrap it up or wear a hood.

What to do if you think you have frostbite.

You can tell if you are frost bitten due to the fact your skin will kind of go numb and you can no longer feel it. The worse it is, the more you can't feel. Now to warm that area back up once you are safe inside DO NOT USE HOT WATER! This is imperative. You WILL cause second or third degree burns because you can't tell how hot it is. Start with tepid water and rub the area vigorously while you run water over it or hold it under the water. Increase the temperature slowly over time. Another point. This WILL hurt. It will hurt A LOT but you need to keep going. It hurts because your nerves are thawing out and you are regaining circulation. This is normal and GOOD. If it hurts you know the area is slowly thawing out.

If you don't have access to water, rub the affected area a lot, massage it and work the skin and muscle. The friction will slowly thaw it out through heat and you will need to keep doing it to ensure it thaws out completely. Once again this will hurt but you need to push through it to ensure you retain functionality of that area be it your hands or feet or fingers or toes.

What do do to prep your house for freezing temps.

First thing you need to do, especially because in the south your houses are not built for freezing temps is to drip your taps. All the taps in your house should be dripping hot and cold water. This will prevent your pipes from freezing.

Also open your cupboards under your sink to help prevent the pipes from freezing. If you are concerned about it still freezing you can use cardboard to wrap them, it's not the greatest for insulation as it's not built specifically for it but it will work in a pinch to keep your pipes from freezing. You can also wrap some cotton batting around them BEFORE you do the cardboard to insulate even better.

Then we move onto draft proofing your home. If your house is drafty it will get cold VERY quickly, especially when you have freezing wind blowing. So for your windows, hang dark blankets up to cover the windows, this will help prevent drafts and the darker colour will absorb heat that will be help keep your house a touch warmer.

For your doors, roll up towels and put them at the bottom of your doors to help stop drafts from coming in or out. If you are leaking around the edges, if you have it, staple double over plastic to over hang the door to isolate the draft to the door itself. If you don't, hang a blanket to cover the door completely. This will block the draft and keep the cold from coming in and the heat from escaping.

What do do if your power goes out.

First thing you are going to do is bring everyone into a single room, if you can centralize the room to be in the middle of the house, that's even better as the cold will take much longer to reach it. As you do that, close all the door you can and then you are going to amp up your space to help retain heat. So you are going to cover the door with a blanket and you are going to bring as many blankets as possible into that space.

You are going to stay there with everyone and eat and sleep in this room TOGETHER. Your body heat will keep the room warm and if you insulate it properly it will retain that heat. If you notice a wall is super cold, hang a blanket up on it, if you notice a draft, stuff it with a towel or hang a blanket up on it.

You want the room to be as insulated as possible. And yes I include pets with this so bring in their food and water dish and if it's a cat bring in toys and their litter box.

For light, use flashlights or camping lights. If you have kerosene lamps use those, but generally use candles. Make sure they are high off the ground, not where they can tip over, and make sure they have a plate or a tray underneath then so that if they DO tip you won't catch anything on fire or get wax every where. Remember that crayons can be used as candles, and if you shove a candle in a can of Crisco that shit will burn for like six days straight. Also if you have an orange, cut it in half, take the pulp out, pour in a little cooking oil into the half a peel (make sure the flash point of the oil is high so it doesn't catch fire), and then stick a small candle in the middle, this will give you a large amount of burn time for a small candle.

For heat. There are several methods you can use to heat up a space, one is you take a tiny can, put a toll of toilet paper inside of it, then you dump isopropyl alcohol (min 70%) over the roll until it's soaked, and then light it on fire. This will provide both light and heat for several hours.

If you want to double that heat, take a terra cotta pot or a metal pot and have it slightly over top of the can. NOT covering the fire but resting slight over top of it so the rim of the terracotta pot or the metal pot it level with the edge of the candle. If you have several of those, you will heat the space rather quickly.

If you have a woodburning stove or a fireplace, then use that! Just make sure you have your chimney unobstructed donut draws properly and for all burning types of heat ALWAYS HAVE A CARBON MONOXIDE ALARM. If you DON'T then make sure your space is ventilated.

Also never fall asleep while the fire is going. So candles, your little flame heaters, ect.

Keeping yourself warm at night.

The absolute BEST blankets to use to wrap up in are sleeping bags. Use them on-top of all your other blankets and they will keep your heat in so much better than anything else. They are specifically designed for colder weather and keeping you warm.

Keep your feet warm. The best and easiest solution to this is to make a 'bed rock'. Back in the old times people used to warm up rocks and stones and stick them at the end of their bed underneath their covers to keep them warm. We can mimic that by using hot packs, so those little plastic bean filled baggies that you warm up in the microwave. Pop those into the microwave for two minutes and stick them at your feet under your blankets and you will have warm feet for up to three or four hours.

If you don't have a heat pack, that's fine! You can make one with a sock, rice, and a hair elastic. Fill your sock with rice, tie it closed with the elastic and there you go! Homemade heat pack (I actually made one this winter when our power went off. It makes a WORLD of difference.)

If you are stuck outside in the freezing cold (and can't get into a shelter).

Layer your clothes and if you are still cold, crumple up newspaper and stick it between the layers. This will act as a insulator to keep your body heat in. You need to stay warm. It's easier to stay warm than it is to warm up.

Try and get access to a tent and a sleeping bag will increase your chances of staying warm. You need shelter and a tent with a sleeping bag is the best way to do that. If you have shelter you can survive but if it's snowing do NOT let snow accumulate on your tent. This can block air flow and can cause your tent to collapse.

Sleep on something that protects you from the ground. Even if you have to layer cardboard to keep the cold away from you, do so.

If you have no shelter, you can make one using cardboard boxes. Find a large box if you can, then a smaller one that fits inside of it but still fits you. Once you have them, find a place that is sheltered from the wind and then place your boxes so that the opening it towards the shelter and then shove crumpled newspaper in the space between the boxes to provide insulation and while it's not pretty, it will work in a pinch. If you want too insulate it more, put plastic over the boxes and then pile snow on the sides and a thin layer on the top. This will insulate your shelter as snow acts as a great insulator.

Buddy up. The more people you find the more heat you can generate. Never be alone out in the cold. It's easier to fall asleep when you shouldn't and you won't have someone else there who can help you if you need it. Have at least someone else with you if you can manage it.

Never go to sleep cold! If you are warm you can stay warm but you can't warm up if you are cold. Doing jumping jacks, rub your legs and arms, do whatever it takes to get warm before you go to sleep.

If it's super cold out, keep moving and find public spaces that are open to get out of the cold. Sometimes it is too cold for you to stop and sleep. You might want too but you can and will die if you do. The cold will kill you quickly and it is better to keep moving to keep yourself safe and awake. If you can find open public buildings, like 24 hour laundry mats or libraries or other buildings like that. Go in to get warm as best as you can and if you can sleep there, do so but you cannot sleep outside if it's too cold.

Stay safe.

This is the biggest piece of advice I can give you. This cold snap is horrible for people who have never experienced it before so stay safe and stay warm. Im worried for you, I'm used to this, you aren't. I love you all and stay safe!

#texas snow storm #texas #survival #survival tips #please boost #please interact #cold weather survival #tips and tricks #texas is frozen #get this to where the people who need it can see it!#stay safe #stay warm

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manyblinkinglights · 3 years

Text

HOW TO USE THE MBL ANYTAUR BASE - PART ONE

These instructions will be structured around a main narrative--someone who has everything they need for best results, and for whom everything goes right--with digressions for what to do when things go wrong at each step.

Pictured: gryphoranguAnytaur.

WHAT YOU NEED (WANT):

- A fully weight-painted taur model .fbx. *If you have a quad instead, see “I HAVE A QUAD INSTEAD” **If you’re modeling from scratch, see “I’M MODELING FROM SCRATCH” - CATS Blender plugin, just in case. (We’ll be using its assign rest pose function, if we need to.) - A Unity 2019.whatever.it.is project, with the latest VRChat Avatars 3.0 SDK. - Pumkin’s Avatar Tools package (THIS IS SO IMPORTANT). ***If this tool is unavailable, see “I DON’T HAVE PUMKIN’S AVATAR TOOLS, OR IT ISN’T WORKING FOR ME NO MATTER WHAT I DO”

Open MakeYoursInHere.blend. Find the Humanoid hips on the base Anytaur, but DON’T touch them--just find them. Turn on Isometric view and import your taur .fbx; scale and move your model until its Humanoid hips (you know, the bone below its spine, in the Humanoid torso up front), or Humanoid hip-ish-area, matches the Anytaur’s, and the legs are long enough to put your feet ALMOST on the floor (same as the Anytaur is fine). You don’t want to leave so much clearance it’s obvious you’re hovering, but you do want your taur’s (mesh) feet to be raised very slightly above the floor. This makes it easier to avoid clipping. *If you CAN’T STAND having your feet clip into the floor at all, you may wish to pursue using Final IK to run your taur limbs instead, but that’s the opposite hookup method from this tutorial!

When you’re positioned and sized, select your taur and put its wings into a flat T-pose, like the Anytaur’s, and its arms into an A-pose, at the same angles as the Anytaur’s. Apply this pose as your rest pose with CATS, or look up how to do it without CATS if you don’t have CATS. Then select the Anytaur, and, WORKING ISOMETRICALLY AND SYMMETRICALLY (symmetry has been preserved within the Humanoid armature, so you can work normally), you may move the spine, chest, neck, and head around to match the scales and angles of your taur’s existing armature. Again, make sure nothing you do alters the hips--OR interrupts the hierarchy!

If you have Dynamic Bone rigging on the Humanoid torso chain (like for fur or accessories), you may separate the bones out from your taur’s armature at this stage and join and parent them to the Anytaur’s. Same with anything wiggly you have on the arms, next, too.

Once the Anytaur’s Humanoid torso chain matches yours, select the either the left or right WHOLE ENTIRE Anytaur arm, including shoulder. View it isometrically, and shift it in xyz and scale it until it matches your taur’s arm. DO NOT rotate ANYTHING in ANY WAY! *If you have changed the angles in the Humanoid arms or legs, see “I CHANGED IMPORTANT BONE ANGLES IN BLENDER. :(”

You may rotate and reposition the fingerbones freely, though!

Now that both taur armature Humanoid upper bodies match, go into Pose Mode on the Anytaur and find RRA.spacer, off the Humanoid hips. Grab it and rotate it; the Anytaur’s taurbody’s back should respond dramatically. You’ll be toning this behavior down later in Unity, but I’ve recreated it here in Blender to help with weight painting. Try to understand what you’re looking at in the Anytaur’s hind torso chain. Hind.spine is one huge bone to make an optional Dynamic Bones-based-sit work correctly; hind.chest ends wherever is necessary for the “hinge” of that sit. We WILL NOT be going over how to implement sit in this tutorial, but since you’re looking, you might as well know why it’s like that. The .tinybones are because Dynamic Bones needs at least two transforms in a row to operate, and when I had ONLY two, I got stupid bugs preventing the butt collider from showing up in hind.hind.tinybone, so with this setup, Dynamic Bones gets THREE transforms, and the collider on hind.hind.tinybone definitely shows up. Unless you specifically commed your artist for it or they worked with this base in mind, you won’t have a BEND bone, and will need to paint your own, but you should already have hind.hips to start with! There are bone constraints in the hind thighs for weight painting purposes, again--you’re advised to leave them until you’re satisfied with the BEND/hind.hips torso chain action you get on your own taur.

NOW:

Go into Object mode, select the Anytaur’s mesh, and delete it. *If your taur IS NOT weight painted, see “I’M MODELING FROM SCRATCH.” Then select your taur’s mesh and duplicate it. Then, shift-select the Anytaur armature, and parent the duplicate to it with empty groups.

You could go to your duplicate’s vertex groups and start finding and renaming them to match the Anytaur’s armature as best you can at this point, but first, I recommend you fit the Anytaur armature to your taur!

Using your original as a reference, BUT ALSO taking at least a glance at a real animal’s skeletal reference (especially for shoulder length and angle), work isometrically from the sides and front--symmetry has been preserved in all the taurbody legs, lucky you! Rotate the Anytaur’s taurbody bones pair by pair (of bones, left-right) until they’re all angled right to fit your mesh. You may wish to grab and hide anything that’s getting in your way, if you haven’t already, like the zillions of wing and utility bones, and the Humanoid legs (shortcut in edit mode is “h” with a bone selected.) When you’re finished from the side, select the taurbody foreleg chains, switch to viewing isometrically from the front, and shift them in X until they mostly match the width-apart of your forelegs. For the forelegs, I’d prioritize matching the feet to the feet over matching the width of your taurbody shoulders. DO NOT ROTATE ANYTHING--they must stay straight-up-and-down from the front! Do the same for the hindleg chains, though unless you intend to individually articulate your hind beans, you may wish to split the difference between matching the feet versus matching the width of the hind hips above, or just match the hips width and ignore the hind feet, like I did on the Anytaur--If you noticed before deleting it, the hindpaws are quite far outside the hind foot armature--that’s about the limit I’d ever recommend you deviate, though. I just started to get some weird behavior on hindpaw twist at that distance (but I did get to enjoy having my hindlegs always look a little extra jaunty because of how they were modelled “at rest” around the bones here). If you’re lucky, your artist just has those hindlegs straight up and down lol so you won’t have to make any decisions.

You may add/graft on extra bones out of your old armature if you’ve got them (floof bones, etc), SO LONG AS YOU DON’T DELETE, REPARENT, OR RENAME ANYTHING ALREADY THERE, OR OTHERWISE BREAK THE ANYTAUR HIERARCHY.

The twist bones don’t like being moved, sometimes, so make sure to check on them specifically and fix them if they’ve gotten skewed by grabbing just their left/right heads or tails at a time and shifting them in x.

Don’t forget to fit your toes! They don’t have to be straight up and down, just have them fit your toes. You don’t have to use EVERY beanbone either, there’s a final (FINAL--do NOT do it until you’re SO SURE you’re finished) optimization pass in Unity where we’ll delete any bones that didn’t get used. You could probably just graft your old toebones on, here (but DON’T do that with anything but the toes! We’ll need the leg chain transforms to all be named in PRECISELY this way or nothing will work AT ALL later. Working this way around, renaming your vertex groups to the Anytaur armature, allows you to check your work here in Blender AND not ruin anything silently before we move to Unity).

The Anytaur armature should now be fit to your taur! Well, except for wings--SYMMETRY IS BROKEN IN THE WINGS, I’M SO SORRY, so if you need them, handle them by scaling left/right pairs of the bones’ heads and tails in and out in X from the isometric front and top views, and moving left-right pairs freely together with g + zy shortcuts. If you have dragon wings with extra wing fingers, graft yours from your old armature onto the Anytaur wingfingers. Just shrink the Anytaur wingfingers way down first; they’ll act as control bones. If you have feathery wings, look at the weight painting “zones” of influence that already exist in them. You’ll likely want to rename and/or merge your weight paint vertex groups to use only the (wing upper arm, forearm, and hand, obviously, but also the) first, the fifth, and the tenth feathers, OR--if you have a bunch of existing dynamic rigging, graft your wing surface rigging bones ONTO (parent them to) the first, fifth, or tenth feathers as appropriate. Only use the individual feather rigging if you HAVE (or are making!) individual feathers, it will look weird if your wings are a solid surface (each of the bones is going to roll quite a bit). Basically, the fifth and tenth feathers are rigged to “smooth out” the wing-arm action... hopefully the effect looks okay. If it winds up looking weird later you can reparent your (YOUR) bones directly to the appropriate Anytaur wing-arm bones instead.

Oh, and tails. Do whatever with the tail. The Anytaur tail comes with six bones and limited but ready-to-go rotation constraint rigging, but it isn’t Dynamic Bones compatible, so you’ll probably just want to keep the rigging in the tailbase bone in Unity later, because it’s important for finishing the harmonious “feel” of the movement of your hind hips, and capturing all of your Humanoid hip motions. You can make it really small and not weight paint it if you want, though, so it’s at the base of your tail as a control bone. Do match the next five Anytaur tail bones to the rest of your tail, then feel free to add (or graft on) however many more you need. If you graft your entire old tail on instead of the existing one, you’ll NEED to rename it to match/replace the Anytaur tail in the hierarchy EXACTLY, taking into account whether you kept the first tailbone as a tiny control bone or not! Pumkin’s Avatar Tools, at least as I’ve used it, will FAIL on EVERYTHING DOWNSTREAM OF THE FIRST BREAK... so watch out.

Okay... NOW the Anytaur armature has been fitted.

Use Pose Mode to pose your original model and then your Anytaur duplicate, into a pose suitable for weight painting (or for referencing, in your original). Now, begin the process of renaming/recovering your original vertex groups...

Using your original as a reference as necessary, rename each corresponding old-naming vertex group in Your New Anytaur(tm) to match the naming of the new taurbody bones. Since some preserve symmetry and some do not, especially in the wings, just copy-paste each of the bone names out of the Anytaur hierarchy and into your old vertex groups’ names. Every time you find a match, the fixed mesh should leap up and stick to the right bone!

But maybe you have multiple vertex groups that all need to be collapsed onto one Anytaur bone, because the Anytaur rig is so different. In that case, use the VERTEX WEIGHT MIX MODIFIER. Important: this modifier HAS to be first in the list of modifiers, or it won’t work! It’s to the left in the modifiers list, under the wrench icon for “modifiers”. The first slot is the vertex group you’re adding more influences into (it should be an Anytaur one, like hind.spine). The second slot is where you put the group from your original model you want to add. After you put those, you change the dropdown mix method to addition. Rather than applying each modifier as you go, I recommend you duplicate them as needed and get them all ready and moved above your Armature modifier. Then look them over a few times once you think you’ve captured everything, then apply them one after the other when you’re sure it’s all there. There should be a big, immediate improvement in your Anytaur(’s taurbody torso chain, you’re probably doing this for stuff in the taurbody’s torso chain) after this step.

Once you’ve figured out somewhere for all of your preexisting vertex groups to go, and you can freely pose your Anytaur without leaving any vertices behind, it’s time to WEIGHT PAINT TWO THINGS.

You’ll need to grab the RRA.spacer animation-rig-style control bone (off the Humanoid hips) in Pose mode, rotate it a little (A LITTLE) from the side isometrically, then find the vertex group for the BEND bone and start painting on weight at either full strength 1 yolo (valid) or around .4. Your back should begin to either raise or dip, depending on which way you rotated RRA.spacer. Don’t do too finicky of a job yet, because BEND doesn’t work alone, it operates in conjunction with hind.hips. Find and switch to hind.hips, and add or blur some weight forward into the lower back and belly, just, probably the whole taurbody tube. You want to balance the action of hind.hips and BEND until you get a strong but reasonable-looking response in your taurbody. Moderate the action you get by trying out the levels function on your hind.spine group (though levels is a little bugged currently--click back and forth between the viewport and the hind.spine vertex group a couple times so it doesn’t bump you back to the vertex group you were on previously). Give levels a value less than one to turn it down and free up the action in your BEND and hind.hips, or turn it up somewhat to damp them down if they’re just too freaky/rubbery/bendy. If you’re working with everything way up bright red at one you do risk getting lost in the sauce somewhat, so I recommend toning your hind.spine down to a firm green and working with red in your hind.hips and BEND that you then blur out as necessary.

Once you can grab RRA.spacer and get an amusing but like... coherent... and goodlooking... response from your torso chain, at least to moderate/reasonable movements :p, add twist bone weight painting to your taurbody thighs if you haven’t already! That’s where the hind thigh twistbones get the top halves of the thighs up to the butt--make sure they’re well-positioned up there, with their heads matching the regular thighbones’ heads, and that they reach the halfway point on the regular thigh bones--and the regular thigh bones get the bottom half of the thigh to the knee.

ONE NEAT TIP: to prevent butt crunch, move the heads of your thighbones down to the level of the “crease of your buttcheek” (but maintain the same angle as they’re supposed to have; the head of the thighbone should still be ALONG the original thighbone’s line). When your thighs hinge from THERE, they won’t vanish your butt and leave your crotch poking out into the wind when you crouch or sit! However, after moving your thigh bones’ heads, you’ll need to revisit the isometric front view and grab the tails of your twist bones, then move them back into alignment with x. If your leg chain is still properly straight up and down, you can just zoom in and move their tips to touch the dotted line.

Your Anytaur should now be FULLY WEIGHTED to its armature!! Now it’s time to GET THIS BEAST INTO UNITY.

#text post #anytaur

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joonie-beanie · 4 years

Text

Feline Charms

Pairing: Satan x Reader

Word Count: 5,753

Preview: After sneaking into Satan's room to return a book for Mammon, you end up coming in contact with a charm that turns you into a cat. Everything starts off innocently enough, but...

“Can you not feel it? The way your tail is wagging behind you—like you’re ready to pounce. Did you enjoy the outcome of me getting frustrated with you?”

"I..."

"If you admit it, I'll give you what you what."

"What do you think I want?"

“I think you want me to be rough with you. I never thought of you as the type to get off on being dominated, but I can see now that I pegged you wrong. You’d love to be used until you’re just a toy with no thoughts of your own, wouldn’t you?”

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter was originally posted on 2/6/2020 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

This is all Mammon’s fault.

…as things usually are.

The Avatar of Greed had begged you for a favor; “ya gotta take this book back to Satan’s room for me. He’s pissed because I haven’t given it back yet—but if you’re the one who takes it, then at least you’ll make it out alive!”

So, you’d agreed out of the kindness of your heart, and had made your way to Satan’s room. After knocking and receiving no response, you debated taking the book back to Mammon and telling him you had tried. Instead, you test the doorknob, and are surprised to find that it’s unlocked.

With all the precious books Satan treasures so dearly inside his room, he tends to lock the door when he’s not home. After all, the last thing he needs to deal with is another body-switching incident, or worse.

For a moment, you hesitate. You don’t want to invade his space without permission, but…all you need to do is take a few steps in, set the book down, and leave. What could possibly go wrong?

Pushing the door open, you cautiously pad your way into the book laden room. You fear that simply leaving the book on one of the many stacks won’t be obvious enough. It will likely blend in, and as annoying as Mammon is at times, you don’t want Satan to maim him.

So, you opt for placing the book somewhere more obvious—like Satan’s desk on the other end of the room. Making your way over, you place the book directly in the center of the flat wooden surface, and then rip a piece of paper out of the notepad resting nearby.

A gift from Mammon –Y/N

You smile at your own sense of humor, and set the note on top of the book. Turning, you begin to head for the door, but a flash of gold catches your eye. You pause, walking over to the source of the gleaming metal.

On top a pedestal is a book with a golden charm. You note that the charm is in the shape of a cat—almost like one you’d find hanging off a middle schooler’s backpack--and giggle to yourself.

Despite what Satan says, you know he has a soft spot for felines, and it’s adorable.

Reaching forward, your hands skim the soft white pages of the book. There’s an illustration of a cat in the middle of the page, and you have just enough time to make out the word’s “magic” “charm” and “water” before there’s a clicking sound behind you.

Panicked, you jump, and accidentally stumble—losing your balance. The only thing to help steady you is the pedestal, and you reach out to grab it. However, as you do, you touch the golden charm, and suddenly the world has gone black around you.

What the hell? You think to yourself, aimlessly reaching out. It feels like there’s fabric around you, and after a moment you manage to find some light ahead. Pushing your way through the darkness, you blink at your new surroundings.

It still seems like you’re in Satan’s room, but…everything is…much larger.

“Guess I forgot to lock it,” you hear the Avatar of Wrath mumble, and your blood runs cold. How are you going to explain why you were snooping around in his room?! Returning a book is one thing, but clearly you’d done something wrong, because his room is about 5x bigger than before!

“Satan, I--,” you open your mouth to explain, but the only sound that comes out is a…meow?

Blinking, you hold a hand up in front of you, but instead you only see fur, and a 5 squishy pink toe-beans.

“Oh? How did you get in here?” you hear Satan speak again, and suddenly a hand is tucking beneath your belly. You squeak in surprise, wide eyes turning up to face the blond man now holding you. There’s a perplexed look on his face, but he doesn’t seem mad.

“Satan, it’s me!” you try to say, but again, the words come out as mewls. Satan frowns, leaning in closer.

“What’s wrong? Are you hungry?” he asks, and you vehemently shake your head. The clear side-to-side motion obviously surprises the Avatar of Wrath.

“Well, you’re a smart one, aren’t you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You nod, and Satan takes a few steps forward, placing you gingerly on top of his desk. You sit, staring up at him—so badly wishing you could just explain the situation. At least when he and Lucifer had switched bodies, they’d still been able to communicate.

Unsure what to do, Satan cocks his head to the side and stares back at you.

“Cats, as cute as they are, typically aren’t so…aware,” he mutters to himself. Reaching a hand forward, he rubs your head, and you immediately startle. However, after a second you realize how soothing the feeling is, and can’t help but lean into his touch.

Satan chuckles. “Feel good?” He moves to mess with the furry ears on your head, and you melt at the feeling, a purr rumbling in your chest uncalled upon. The sound startles you, and you know that you should really be focusing on the issue at hand—but damn.

“Y/N would likely be happy to meet you. She loves cats,” he muses to himself, and hearing your name manages to snap you out of it. You duck out from his grasp, taking a step back and staring at him sternly. Satan eyebrows raise.

“What?”

You lift your front paw and then slap it back down on the desk—something akin to a child stomping their foot in dissatisfaction. Satan looks positively bewildered.

Unsure what to do, he attempts to reach for you again, but you dodge his hand. As you do so, you notice the note you had left him nearby, and immediately dash over to it.

“Look!” you cry, your desperation reflected in meow that leaves you. Curious, Satan glances over. He takes the small note into his hands, his eyes scanning over the words. His brows furrow, clearly wondering why the feline that had magically appeared in his room is so adamant about this note, but after a moment realization shines in his eyes.

He looks from the note, to you, and back again. Then, his eyes stray to the other side of the room, where the book with the golden charm is now laying face-down on his floor.

“…Y/N?” he questions, as if not believing it himself. You nod, your head hanging in both embarrassment and relief. You’re glad that Satan is smart, because if it were anyone else, you’re not sure they would have thought twice about your un-feline-like reactions.

Sighing, the Avatar of Wrath brings his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Let me guess…you came to return Mammon’s book for him because he’s a coward, accidentally touched the charm on the other book, and now you’re a cat?”

You meow your affirmation, and Satan shakes his head—a tiny chuckle sneaking past his lips.

“Of course.”

Turning, he moves to pick up the book that obviously contains some sort of magic, and moves to sit in a chair nearby. Curious, you pad your way over to the edge of the desk and watch him.

“I just got this book recently. I knew that the charm hanging on it contained a spell, so I was being careful not to touch it, but…,” he trails off, and you feel your ears flatten in embarrassment. Satan notices, and reaches over to pet your head. Again, the feeling is strange to you, but not unwelcome. If anything, you want to sprawl out and let him run his hands over your fur, but…that seems a bit strange, even if you are trapped in the body of a cat at the moment.

“It’s not your fault. We’ll blame Mammon,” he says, trying to cheer you up, and it works.

Turning his attention back to the book, Satan quickly scans through the pages. Your curiosity gets the best of you as you watch him, and you daringly hop off the desk onto the arm of the chair. Satan blinks in surprise, watching you as you unthinkingly make your way onto his lap. You take a seat on his thigh, your innocent gaze peering up at the book, and he can’t help but laugh.

“Maybe I won’t turn you back,” he says, his fingers moving to rub your ears once more. “You’re very cute like this.”

You whine at his words, head turning to look at him. Your eyes are nearly begging, and despite himself, Satan lowers his book and bends down to kiss the top of your head.

If you were human, you’re sure your face would be the color of a tomato.

“I’m joking. Give me a few minutes to read. I haven’t gotten to the section about spell nullification yet.”

You nod, understanding, and patiently wait.

Sure enough, after a short while, Satan makes a satisfied grunt, and closes the book. You jump up in excitement, looking back at him. He responds by picking you up—cradling you against his chest as he begins to pad across his room.

“Unfortunately, it seems that I can’t break the spell. It will wear off naturally within the next 24 hours. However, according to the text, there is a way to lessen the effects.”

Your ears perk up curiously at that, your eyes taking in your surroundings as Satan leads you up a spiral staircase and to a part of his room you’ve never seen before. At the top of the stairs, you find a nook with another chair and another book shelf. Just beyond it is a doorway, and as he traverses the threshold, you note that the inside of the adjoining room is much cleaner—a perfectly made bed positioned against the middle of the far wall.

However, Satan doesn’t lead you to the mattress. Instead, he diverts to another doorway, and beyond it you find a bathroom. It’s spotless—a spacious, dark tiled shower located in the corner. The walls of the shower are clear glass, and Satan makes his way to the door—pulling it open.

You watch him eagerly as he reaches inside, turning on the water. Immediately droplets begin to rain down from the showerhead—and he places his hand into the stream, waiting for it to warm.

You meow up at him, wondering what he’s doing.

“Water, apparently, is an aid to nullification,” he explains.

After a few seconds, steam begins to fog up the glass walls, and Satan bends to set you on the ground.

“Go on,” he tells you when you stare up at him. However, your instincts are screaming at you to run away. You’re pretty sure it’s because you’re a cat—and cats hate water—but no matter the logic you try and convince yourself with, your body doesn’t move.

Satan frowns. “What?”

You shake your head, fur standing on end as you back away from the evil shower. Realization dawns on the demon, and he sighs—finally getting a bit irritated.

“You don’t want to go in the water because you’re a cat?”

You whine in affirmation, taking another step back. The Avatar of Wrath narrows his eyes.

Abruptly, he reaches down and grabs the hem of his green sweater. You stare in shock as he pulls the fabric over his head—his blond hair messy at the action. Next, he undoes his belt, and slips off his shoes and socks—tossing them to the side.

It’s in that moment that you realize what he’s planning, and without thinking twice, you make a break for the door. Seriously, if you were in your right mind, you would have just gotten in the shower. After all, it’s not like you want to stay a cat! But your feline nature is affecting your actions, and right now, warning alarms are sounding in your head.

“Oh, no,” he speaks up, closing the bathroom door in your face before you can escape. You bristle, turning and trying to find somewhere to hide, but he scoops you up before you can. Satan holds you tightly to his chest, making his way back to the shower, and you push against him. Your claws draw lines in the skin on his chest, and he gives you a little squeeze in warning.

“Stop. Don’t make me punish you,” he growls, finally pulling the door to the shower open and stepping inside. You cry out as the hot water washes over you—struggling against him to break free and escape—but Satan has no intention of letting you go.

You feel your claws sink into his skin once more, and you see anger beginning to seep onto his face—but before either of you can react, something happens. The world around you blurs, and when you regain your bearings, you find your face just inches from Satan’s.

He’s still holding you tightly, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize that you’re…

Your cheeks flush deep pink as you experimentally move—feeling your wet breasts slip against his chest.

…oh god. You’re naked.

“Satan, I--,” you babble out, intending to apologize, but when you look back up, Satan captures your lips with his own. You startle, goosebumps rising on your skin as he loosens his hold on you—one of his hands moving to rest on your hip as the other moves to tangle in your hair.

“Mm--!” you cry when he sternly yanks on the wet strands, effectively deepening the angle of the kiss. His tongue claims your mouth as his own—swallowing up your whines—and despite yourself, you begin to feel arousal swirl in your gut.

“I told you to stop. You didn’t,” he speaks after pulling back, his displeased emerald eyes boring into you.

You know from experience that Satan’s anger appears as if flipping a switch, but this is the first time he’s responded like…this.

“I…,” you blush, unable to look away. “I didn’t want to fight you, but my instincts…”

He stares at you for a few long seconds, his grip on your hair gradually loosening, before he sighs and releases you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching past you to turn off the water. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, blushing. Your arms raise and hug your chest—thighs pressing together—and suddenly Satan is turning red as well. For a second there, he’d forgotten that you’re, um…ahem.

“I’ll grab you a towel,” he says, pushing the shower door open and stepping out. He rummages around in a nearby cabinet and you hesitantly follow after him—stepping out onto the cold tile floor. When he turns back and notices you standing there, you note that his eyes do a quick rake of your body before he hurriedly averts his gaze.

“Here,” he says, holding the towel out.

“Thanks,” you respond, taking it from him. He idles for a moment, seemingly lost. And to be fair, you’re not quite sure how to act in this situation either. It’s not like you had ever expected to be naked in Satan’s bathroom after accidentally turning into a cat.

“I’ll, uh, let you dry off,” he eventually speaks, coughing, and turns to leave. You nod, waiting until he’s gone to start drying yourself off. You start with your arms—quickly brushing the towel down your front, and then your legs. It’s not until you move to run the towel down your back that you jump in surprise—a certain spot above your tailbone unexpectedly sensitive.

What the--, you think, stepping in front of the mirror nearby. What you find causes a small cry to slip from your lips.

“Y/N?” you hear Satan question from the other room. Quickly, without really thinking, you reach for the nearest piece of dry clothing—shove it over your head—and then burst out of the bathroom.

“I have ears!!” you exclaim, appearing inside the bedroom in nothing but Satan’s sweater. “And a tail!”

The Avatar of Wrath stares at you with wide eyes, his brain trying to process the sight in front of him. If your outburst isn’t startling enough, seeing you standing there—barely covered by his shirt—definitely raises the stakes.

“I did say water would cure only some of the effects,” he tells you, and it’s in that moment that you realize he’s standing just feet away from you in nothing more than a fresh pair of boxer-briefs. Your eyes drag down his toned torso, pausing when you notice a bulge in the fabric, angled against his thigh.

Satan notices where you're looking, and is about ready to apologize again—making excuses regarding why he’s rock solid—when he notices that your tail is waving behind you. Pausing, he glances up to your face, and finds that your pupils are dilated as well.

Clarity washes over him, and a wicked grin spreads on his lips.

“Did you like it? When I kissed you in the shower?” he asks, posing a hand on his hip. The cocky look on his face catches you off guard. How is he able to so easily switch between being kind, and…sadistic.

“W-What? Why are you asking?” you retort, cheeks flushing pink. Your hands grip the soft fabric of his sweater as he takes a step forward.

“Can you not feel it? The way your tail is wagging behind you—like you’re ready to pounce. Did you enjoy the outcome of me getting frustrated with you?”

You can feel your heart thundering in your chest—embarrassed, and nervous, but…the way he’s speaking also has arousal pooling between your legs.

“I…”

He’s bearing down on you now, one of his hands lifting to tenderly rub against your cheek. You can’t take your eyes off of him—watching his face carefully as he wraps his other arm around your waist, dragging you into him.

“If you admit it, I’ll give you what you want,” he says, his fingers lightly coasting up the skin on your face. You feel his touch on your ears—ears that are fuzzy, and usually not on your head—and the sensitivity of them has you gasping quite loudly.

You attempt to escape his touch (despite your instincts, which are currently screaming at you to let him continue, because god it feels so good), but Satan isn’t letting you go anywhere. With his arm wrapped around you—you’re stuck. There’s no way you can beat him in a game of strength.

“What do you think I want?” you manage to respond, mustering up a bit of courage. It’s not in your nature to just let someone talk to you like that without teasing them back. Satan, however, is blunt with his rebuttal.

“I think you want me to be rough with you.” His fingers leave your ear, moving down to wrap around your throat. His grip is firm—not enough to choke you—but you still feel light-headed nonetheless.

“I think that despite attributing it to a natural feline reaction, you enjoyed the repercussions of our little chase in the bathroom.”

He takes a step forward, and your back hits the doorframe. Still, you’re unable to look away from him—his bright eyes full of unspoken promises.

“I never thought of you as the type to get off on being dominated, but I can see now that I pegged you wrong. You’d love to be used until you’re just a toy with no thoughts of your own, wouldn’t you?”

Your breathing has picked up now—fanning in hot puffs between your bodies. Each of his words causes sinful scenarios to bloom within your mind—and you feel your pussy clench around nothing—hot, and aching to be filled.

“But…if I’ve got it all wrong, just tell me to stop, and I will,” he says, taking a small step back. However, you don’t want him to stop. You desperately want more.

Without missing a beat, you close the gap he had created—your lips greedily capturing his own as you lift your hands to cup his face. Yet, as soon as you touch him, Satan is pushing you away—your back roughly hitting the wall behind you.

His fingers tighten around your neck.

“If you want more, I expect a verbal response.”

“Please touch me,” you respond, breathless. Satan leans in, your lips nearly touching, and he looks you in the eye.

“Tell me how. If I’m not satisfied, you won’t get anything.”

“I…,” your mouth feels dry—brain amiss with the amount of desperation currently afflicting you. You’ve never needed to be touched so badly before. If Satan doesn’t fulfill your desires, you’re not sure what you’ll do.

“I want—,” your words are cut off as a gasp involuntarily escapes your mouth. Satan’s other hand has found its way between your legs—two fingers rubbing between your soaking folds.

“D-Didn’t you just say I wouldn’t get anything?” you question, thighs clenching against his hand—desperate for more. He cocks an eyebrow at you, an infuriating smile on his lips.

“Does this really count as something?”

His fingers tease at your entrance, barely dipping into your pussy. Even if you think of grinding down to force him deeper, his hold on your neck prevents you from doing so—and you whine as he pulls his fingers away—simply continuing to tease your womanhood while neither touching your clit nor pushing his digits inside of you.

“I would suggest saying what’s on your mind, Y/N. You shouldn’t be a mindless slut just yet, considering I haven’t really touched you.”

His words have you feeling warm all over, but you decide to listen.

“I want you inside of me,” you say, starting off innocently enough. You’ve never verbally been lewd before—the idea of telling someone what you want them to do to you while they’re standing right there is a bit terrifying—but you know if you don’t start somewhere, you’ll never get what you want.

“I want you to finger fuck me until my knees buckle, and I’m begging you to let me cum.” You get braver with every word, and when you feel Satan’s cock strain against your stomach—trapped in the tight space between your bodies—a wave of satisfaction emboldens you.

“Your sweater smells like you—so very good—and I want you to rip me out of it. To punish me for wearing what’s yours without permission. I want your hands on me—pushing me down into your mattress and grabbing my hips as you fuck me with little regard for my own pleasure—only chasing after your own.”

Satan’s breathing is a bit gruffer now—his face burying against your shoulder as his hand drops away, coming to momentarily rest near your hip. You feel his canines scrape the flesh on your neck—his hand sneaking beneath the hem of his sweater and dragging upward—and goosebumps rise on your skin. Your confidence momentarily falters—a hot wave of arousal jumbling your thoughts—but you continue.

“I want you to have your way with me knowing that what I desire doesn’t matter. You’re in charge, and I have no say—just the way it should be. The Avatar of Wrath’s personal little pet.”

Without warning, he bites down on your skin—two of his fingers slipping inside of your pussy at the same time. A breathless whine escapes you—pain and pleasure mingling—and when you attempt to grind your hips down on his hand, he nips at you again.

Immediately you cease all movements, wincing at the sting, but you’d be lying if you said the pain didn’t turn you on. And Satan knows it does. He can feel your pussy clenching around him, getting even wetter as he soothes his tongue over the marks on your neck.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad--,” he speaks up, mumbling hotly against you, “—if you kept the ears, and tail. I could put a collar on you—let everyone know that you’re my personal property. Wouldn’t you like that?”

You open your mouth to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance—his lips moving to capture your own as his digits thrust between your walls. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, swallowing the moans that rip from your throat—his pace ruthless as he fingers fucks you. But he knows it’s what you want—your pussy positively drenched for him—lewd sounds permeating the room with each flick of his wrist.

His other hand finds your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly and causing you to whine. Satan’s touches are sure to leave you sore and bruised, but the idea of having marks to remind you of this moment for days to come is undeniably appealing.

“S-Satan,” you gasp, your knees beginning to buckle. You’re already racing towards your climax—his fingers pressing into your sweet spot with every jab.

“Are you already going to cum?” he asks, placing an open-mouthed kiss against your jaw. Your head is spinning, but you manage to nod.

Satan hums. “Should I let you cum?”

“Please.” Your voice is raw with desperation—your head pressing back against the doorframe as the dam holding your orgasm at bay threatens to collapse. Weakly, your hand raises to grab Satan’s arm—your fingernails digging into his skin.

He chuckles, placing a tease of a kiss against your jaw.

“Cum then.”

And you do—mouth opening into a silent scream as you release around his fingers. He pumps you through it—pace slowing to drag out the waves of pleasure. And finally, once you’re able to breathe again—your head slumping forward against Satan’s shoulder—he pulls his hand from between your thighs.

You feel him wipe his soaking digits on your leg, smearing your own juices against your skin. It’s an embarrassing realization—that you had drenched his hand with your arousal—but you don’t get long to think on it, because both his arms wrap around the backs of your thighs. He hefts you up—your arms instinctively raising to wrap around his neck as your legs dangle on either side of his torso.

You can feel his clothed erection pressing at your womanhood—and you realize that despite cumming—there’s no way you’re done.

“Don’t regret what you said earlier about letting me use you,” he whispers into your ear, and turns towards the bed. Within seconds, you find yourself thrown onto the soft sheets—the Avatar of Wrath flipping you onto your stomach.

There’s movement on the mattress behind you, and then Satan’s hands are reaching forward to grab your hips. He forces you onto your knees—dragging your ass backwards—and without warning, something quite large shoves between your walls.

“Mm--!” you bite your lip, fingers grasping at the sheets as Satan begins chasing his own release. His hips smack against your ass, rattling the bedframe with each movement, and despite yourself, pleasure begins building in your gut once more.

“Look at you,” Satan speaks, a little breathless. “So submissive, and perfect.”

You whine at his words, thighs shaking as the intensity of his love-making begins to overwhelm you. If it weren’t for Satan’s grip on your hips, you’d be slack against the sheets—twitching, and taking a much-needed breather.

But this isn’t about you. Right now, it’s about him, and you both know it. It’s Satan’s turn to do whatever he wants. It’s the least you can give him, considering he’d already let you cum, right?

“Do you think you can cum again?” he asks, and you shake your head no. He chuckles, one of his hands reaching around to toy with your clit. The stimulation immediately has you crying out—pussy tightening around him and forcing a grunt from his throat.

“Let’s see, shall we?”

The next few minutes are a blur—your mind spiraling into incoherency as Satan’s dick stretches and fills you in all the right ways. With his fingers rubbing circles at your clit, you’re brought back to the brink of orgasm quicker than you’d imagined—the pleasure beginning to tip into overstimulation.

“Please please please please,” you chant, forcing yourself to clench around him. Satan groans, retaliating with a brutal thrust that has tears pricking at your eyes. You’re not sure if you want to cum, or simply want him to cum so you can finally catch your breath.

“Shit,” he curses, beginning to fall apart around the edges. His fingers work at your clit even faster than before, and you choke on a cry—attempting to pull your hips away—but he doesn’t let you.

With a guttural moan tearing from your throat, he forces another orgasm from your spent body. You go limp—any remaining strength fading from your limbs, and Satan drags you back onto his cock a few more times before his pace falters, and he finds his bliss as well.

When his touch disappears from you, you immediately collapse onto your side—covered in sweat—your clit twitching with aftershocks. Your eyes are closed, yet they open tiredly when you feel a palm cup your cheek.

Satan is sat in front of you now, a tinge of concern showing in his emerald eyes. Since you can’t move, you simply lean into his touch, and he breathes a laugh.

“I tend to forget that humans are so fragile…”

“I’m not fragile,” you respond, smiling a little. “I’m just exhausted. You gave me the fucking of a lifetime—how am I supposed to act after an experience like that?”

There’s a beat of silence, and you glance up to find a perplexed look on Satan’s face. It’s almost as if he feels…guilty.

“Hey,” you speak up, catching his attention. You beckon him forward with a nod of your head, and Satan complies—scooting to lay next to you. Once close enough, you reach your arms forward and hug his head to your chest.

“I really enjoyed that,” you tell him honestly. “Please don’t feel bad.”

“I…it’s hard for me to control my nature, sometimes,” he admits, but relaxes into your embrace. “While it feels good to give in, I don’t like the idea that I did anything without your consent first.”

“I know that if I had asked you to stop, you would have. So, don’t worry, Satan. We’re fine.”

At your reassurance, he sighs quite loudly, and you feel his lips press a soft kiss against your breast.

“Will you stay here? Tonight?”

You laugh. “You would have been stuck with me either way. I can’t move at all right now.”

He snorts, his blond hair tickling your chin, and you continue thoughtfully. “Well, I guess you could have carried me back to my room. But then you run the risk of running into the others—and having to explain why I can’t walk and have ears and a tail. And I don’t think you want that.”

“The others don’t get to see this,” he speaks up seriously, pushing onto his forearm and catching your gaze. “I want these moments to only be mine.”

His words cause a blush to spread on your cheeks, and you avert your eyes.

“That’s quite greedy of you. I thought you were the Avatar of Wrath, Satan.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Will you let them be mine?”

Shyly, you nod, and Satan smiles with satisfaction.

“I’ll get a wet rag, and some clothes for you to sleep in,” he says, and disappears from your side. You hear him padding around the room, but you’re too tired to move an inch. Eventually, you feel a warm cloth on your thighs, and a soft shirt being pulled over your head, but the minutes blur together. You’re exhausted, and as soon as Satan returns to his bed—his arm resting across your waist as he settles in beside you—you’re out like a light.

In the morning—

“Oi! Y/N!” Mammon’s loud call startles you as you step foot into the dining hall. He presses up from his seat, hurrying towards you. The other brothers are already gathered around the table—Satan included, and he watches the interaction silently.

“Where the hell were you last night? I went knocking at your door and you never came to answer. I thought Satan had killed ya!”

“LMAO but you were too scared to go to Satan’s room and check,” Levi butts in, causing Mammon to flush bright red.

“I ain’t scared ‘a him!” he denies, pointing a finger at the 4th eldest brother. Satan ignores the outburst, but from his side, Asmodeus hums happily. There’s a sparkle in his eye.

“I don’t know, Mammon, I would be. I could have sworn I heard Y/N screaming when I walked past Satan’s door last night~”

Asmo’s comment has heat creeping up your neck, but Satan’s response gives nothing away.

“She decided to stay and read a book from my collection. I realized she was getting to a scary part, and decided to play a prank on her. She didn’t really appreciate it.”

Six pairs of eyes turn to you expectantly, and you laugh—your hand rubbing at your neck.

“Sorry if I worried you…I’m really bad with scary things.”

There’s a look on Asmo’s face that tells you he doesn’t buy your excuse one bit, but nevertheless, he decides to roll with it.

“Ooo~ If that’s the case then I say we have a scary movie night soon! I want to hold Y/N in my lap and make her feel safe while watching~”

“That might be the most dangerous spot to be,” Belphegor mumbles, and Asmodeus feigns hurt. At the same time, immediately Mammon is yelling about how you’re under his watch, and no one is allowed to touch you but him. That draws responses of indignation from an array of people at the table, but in the middle of it all, Satan raises a hand to hide his smile.

His eyes meet yours, his emerald orbs flashing with something akin to mirth, and you know that even while the others argue about who has the right to touch you—from here on out, your most intimate moments will be reserved for Satan.

And that, you don’t have any problem with.

#om!#obey me!#obey me fic #obey me smut #om! satan #om! satan smut #satan smut #obey me! satan #om! smut #om! fic #guess what I still hate tagging #satan x mc #satan x reader

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sub-hoshi-enthusiast · 4 years

Text

I know it might be too soon cause I just got into them but I had a mighty need 😔😔 also no one writes anything for my babie Keonhee wtf- (this one has been completed in my drafts before the haechan one 🙃)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!oneus, mentions of crossdressing, mentions of petplay, mentions of bondage

Oneus as Camboys

Ravn

Alright, so we all know the confidence this man holds so he was made to be a camboy and I will not fight on this. Of course, as the prettiest boy, he gets a lot of attention right off the bat. He seems so cocky at the beginning of his streams which make viewers question if he's submissive at all, but then he'll whip out a fucking machine and proceed to get railed until enough comments give him permission to stop. If he ends up cumming before then he'll let it run for a little bit longer to overstimulate himself as his punishment, even when no one tells him to. He thrives off the comments that tell him how pretty he looks (which of course he already knows that but it never hurts to hear it again-), so much so that if he's getting close he'll start to ask the viewers if he's pretty just to help bring him over the edge. One of the viewers even mentioned that he looked similar to a kitten so the next stream he did he wore some cat ears he had laying around the house (no one knows where they came from or why he had them laying around but-). Now he never takes them off. Someone even bought him a cute little collar with a bell on it that everyone was thankful for cause it jingled everytime he moved and it only made him even cuter 😔.

Seoho

This man has the sweetest face so the first time people started watching him they were very confused as to why such a sweet looking boy is doing something this dirty. Originally he didn't know what he would be doing but the second people started telling him how precious he looked he knew he had found his act. (Of course everything he does on camera is just an act and you really wish he would listened to you as much as he listens to his viewers sometimes but nope, you get left with the bratty bitch we all know and reluctantly love) He'll log on wearing big sweaters and panties that barely cover him up, and he'll let people buy him toys for him to use on the stream. When these gifts arrive he acts clueless as to what they're supposed to do, asking viewers if he's doing it right every five minutes cause he's just a big dumb babie that needs to be told what to do all the time 😔😔. Towards the end of his streams when he's coming down from his high, and he's all shaky and covered in his own cum, he'll look toward the camera and murmur "Was I a good boy for you?" Which of course makes everyone's hearts burst then and there. Then he'll just lay there for a minute or two, all smiley and giggly as he reads through all of the comments telling him how good he'd been and how proud they are of him :(. There are also times he'll claim that he's a virgin which no one knows if it's true or not it's definitely not but they roll with it cause he's just too darn cute.

Leedo

Everyone was hyped as soon as he started making his own streams after seeing him appear in one of Hwanwoong's. They were a little surprised to see him all shy and awkward after seeing him pounding into one of his friends but he's hot so no one questioned it that much. His first stream he didn't really know what to do so he's just awkwardly touching himself, trying his best not to look at the camera. The first time he glanced up, his eyes landed on a simple comment that said 'you don't have to be so shy baby, you look so pretty :)' and everyone sees his cock jump in his hold as he murmurs "I'm.. pretty…?" under his breath. From that moment on everyone flooded the comments telling him how cute he was and he was finally able to relax a little. Someone mentioned that he whimpered so much he might as well be a dog, so it really wasn't surprising that he received a package a few days later with some puppy ears and a collar. Let's just say he enjoyed the collar a lot more than he thought he would. He'll start off quiet and shy but as he gets closer and closer to his release he can't hold back how loud he is. To 'spice things up a little' he wanted to do a stream where he cums without him touching himself, which leads to someone asking him to hump a pillow for them like the desperate puppy that he is. He enjoyed it a lot and has done many videos with it since then. But overall he's just the sweetest puppy who's ready to please 🥺💔

Keonhee

I genuinely don't know why I wanna tie this man up so bad but we're gonna roll with it. His first ever stream isn't meant to be sexual, he's just asking for advice on how he should tie his shibari cause he wants to surprise his girlfriend. The next one is of him showing off what he learned, and he's smiling so wide cause he's all proud of himself :(. But he starts to notice a bunch of comments telling him how pretty he is and how much they would pay to see him in nothing but the red ropes he had tied around him. He thinks about it for a bit before asking if you're ok with it (cause the sweet boy would never want to do something you're uncomfortable with) and after getting the go ahead he starts his camboy career. You tend to stick around behind the camera while he's filming cause 1) he tends to be more confident when you're with him and 2) he needs someone to help untie him when he's done (and secret reason 3) he gets really turned on by you watching him doing something so filthy). Let's say, giving a totally random example, he finishes up a stream where he's been tied up and gagged as he helplessly writhes around with a vibrating buttplug in and after the camera goes off, instead of untying him you take out the plug and replace it with your strap to make him cum again and again until you've drained him of everything he has to offer. Theoretically, if that ever happened, he wouldn't be against it- 👀 theoretically of course.

Hwanwoong

No one is surprised this man has a camboy account. He's the most likely to have one out of all the boys and everyone knows it. He's such a whore- But anyways everyone who watches him has a size kink. Obviously, everyone logs on to see his tiny body get absolutely ruined and you can't argue with me on this. His streams consist of him inviting over his tall, strong friends to just completely destroy his little hole for the world to see. One friend he invited over really caught people's attention cause of how pretty he was (*cough cough* Leedo *cough cough*) so he tends to keep bringing him back, and even convinces him to start his own camboy account. He's even done a few videos of him giving his friends a lap dance before he gets railed, which made someone mention that he'd make a good stripper and that's how he got his job at the strip club a few miles from his house (and this man would be loaded cause who doesn't want a piece of that?). He doesn't do a lot of streams of him by himself but they tend to be popular when he does. He gets a little shy cause he has to actually read the comments himself instead of someone just telling him how cute he looks as he rides his favorite dildo. Plus when he does it by himself it gives viewers a better view of him instead of another person.

Xion

This sweet boy lives for crossdressing. Originally he just wanted to show off a few cute outfits he had, which blended into him only wearing cute skirts and dresses he buys, and even though he isn't doing anything sexual everyone gives him money cause he's just so precious. One stream he's doing what he always does but things suddenly take a turn when someone tells him that if they were there right now then they would bend him over the nearest surface and fuck him senseless cause he just looks so cute, which leads to him touching himself cause just that one comment got him so worked up. He'll also get into roleplay and stuff too, usually around halloween cause it's easier to find costumes to wear. A fan favorite was a maid costume he bought for a halloween stream for some master/mistress and maid roleplay (Think of this cause I got lost in the world of catboy maids for a hot second the other day). He's been calling his viewers master ever since then cause he kinda likes the humiliation he feels when they call him their dumb little servant. Someone even sent him some cat ears, a collar with a bell, and some cat toe bean thigh highs to really pull his outfit together. He even bought matching pink lace panties to make him even more irresistible. I think out of all the boys he'd be the one to talk with his viewers most cause he just wants to make sure he's doing good for them cause he aims to please.

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rosy-cheekx · 4 years

Note

Or, if you're more in the mood for something fluffier, “It’s too cold for you to come out here without a jacket on” from the protective sentence starters!

Combined this prompt with your “ for the holiday fluff prompts, how about any combination of one or more of these: ❄️ ☃️ ☕️ 🥘 🧩 ~ “ and went with flurries + holiday coffee date. hope you don’t mind it being a little derivative!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370325

It had been a few years since there had been a white Christmas. Snow in London didn’t last long anyway; it would be snowplowed off the streets and turn gray and slushy or melt under the trampling boots of passerby on their way to work or school. This meant that even when it did snow, no one held out much hope for it to last longer than a day, two at most.

All this to say that Jon didn’t think much of the snow when he saw the flurries drifting outside his bedroom window. It had clearly just started snowing– didn’t even seem like it was sticking. He really didn’t think he’d need a coat. His bus route took him less than a block away from the institute and he resented the way his puffy winter coat made him feel: bulky and heavy, restricted at his joints. His thick white woolen sweater, made with oversized yarn and thrown over his collared shirt, would work fine. He thought he looked rather fit like this, hair half-knotted and curling over his shoulders. Tim would give him shit for having an “academia” aesthetic but, he “worked in academics, Tim. Every aesthetic I have is an academia aesthetic.”

Jon was, as usual, the first person to arrive at the archives. Diligently, he began his workday ritual, cranking up the thermostat and pulling the day calendar on his office wall to reveal the 23 December and chuckling to himself at today’s cat: all grey and massive, green eyes staring at the observer innocently. Sasha was next, blustering in her red peacoat, calling a greeting, and shaking it off before hanging it on the coat hook in the bullpen. Then came Martin and Tim, who had begun carpooling after realizing they lived less than two blocks away from each other. Greetings from the pair, “Happy Early Christmas”es. Now, the quiet, empty archives hummed with life and warmth. Jon, now seated his desk in his small office, could hear the chatter taking place in the main office space, the electric kettle humming in the breakroom, the Christmas music being argued over from the small speakers. All felt right. The Archivist smiled to himself and settled into work.

“What the hell? Tim!”

“That wasn’t me, Sash! I’m right here!”

“Calm down, you two. It was just the lights.”

The commotion outside his office confirmed to Jon that he wasn’t the only one whose office lights had suddenly blinked once and cut out. For just a moment he was reminded of Julia Montauk’s story about Mr. Pitch, but shook his head. They were fine. He stood and made his way to the breakroom, eyeing the also dark room, now lit by three phone torches. Being the underground section of the Institute meant they didn’t have much by way of windows, save for the single squat one high up in the breakroom, and Jon could see from here something was blocking the light that usually streamed through.

“I think it’s the whole Institute,” Jon offered unhelpfully. “Can one of you ring Rosie and check?” He turned and wandered absently into the breakroom to investigate the window. It was covered with snow. Frowning, Jon grabbed a chair and dragged it beneath the pane, climbing and pushing on the window.

“I think you need to unlatch it.”

“Jesus Christ, Martin!” Jon swayed and recovered his balance. How could he not hear such a large man come up behind him? He did try the latch though and pushed again. Once, twice, th-

“Fuck! Cold, cold, cold!” The snow that had piled up against the window had shifted and fallen through the gap Jon had so helpfully created; his face, glasses, and sweater generously dusted with cold and white. He sputtered and brushed it off himself, feeling dot of cold seep into his skin. The pane had been cleared though, and Jon could see, as he shoved the window closed again, blustering snow sweeping through the alleyway the window looked out on to. Jon turned back, seeing Martin’s face red with the effort of suppressing a laugh. “It’s snowing. Hard.”

“Yeah,” his voice wavered, lips parting in a warm smile. “I-I guessed that.” Even so, Martin offered Jon a hand and he took it, stepping off the now-wet chair with little grace. “Let’s see if there’s word from Rosie. Sasha was calling her when I came in.” Jon nodded wordlessly, holding Martin’s a little too long (it was so warm! And he was so cold) before letting go and leading Martin into the bullpen.

Sasha was lounging in her office chair, a finger curled in her thick hair, with her legs on her desk and her free hand holding her mobile to her ear. She was nodding, brow furrowed, and kicking Tim idly, who was perched on her desk, feet perched on the handles of one of her desk drawers and shining his torchlight in her eyes while she scowled at him. “Alright, brilliant Rosie. Tell Elias we send our warmest, fondest regards. Especially Tim. Oh—What’s that, Tim?” She eyed her perched friend mischievously; his eyes were wide, and he shook his head vigorously. “Oh. Tim says to tell Elias that he’s deeply in love with him and has been since the day he started.” She listened for a moment and nodded gravely. “Mmhmm. Thank you Rosie. I’ll let him know. Happy Christmas!”

“You little-”

Jon cleared his throat and Tim snapped his head up, eyes alight with mirth. “Bossman, I’m being slandered! You can’t expect me not to defend myself.” Jon chose to ignore his comment, though his expression was soft.

“Sasha, any word from Rosie?”

“Mhmm. Two things. Firstly, power’s out in the whole building. Apparently there’s a bit of a blizzard. Elias said we can have the day off. Secondly, Elias said he’s promoting Tim to his personal ass-isstant.” Tim howled and lunged at Sasha, who was giggling madly. Martin had lost it now too and was chuckling behind his hand at the scene of the taller woman scooting away on her rolling office chair from her dear friend. Even Jon scoffed, eyes following the pair affectionately. Jon didn’t notice he was shivering until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw the silhouette of Martin.

“Are you cold? I’m feeling it too. I think the heat’s off with the power.”

Jon shrugged noncommittally, turning his eyes back to the vague forms of Sasha and Tim, who had given up on their wrestling and were sharing the office chair, Tim lounging across Sasha’s lap and scrolling on his phone. At this, Sasha perked up, nudging Tim. “If it’s gonna get cold in here and we have the day off, we should go get coffee! There’s a cute new place across the street from the park. Steamed Beans or something.”

“Beaned Steams,” Tim mumbled under his breath, extricating himself from Sasha’s lap and getting to his feet, smoothing back his hair before refluffing it expertly. “I’m game. But Sasha’s buying my drink because she’s being a bully.”

Martin nodded, rocking on his toes behind Jon. “I’m in. But the snow is intense. Bundle up if you don’t want frostbite.”

Silence stretched in front of Jon. Of course he hadn’t thought to bring a coat today. There was no way his sweater could weather the snowstorm going on outside. He’d have to say no and wait it out, hope the snow dies down. Or he could just embrace it. The park wasn’t that far away…Four or five blocks. Not far enough to call a cab and too far to walk unprotected. Shit.

He’d been quiet for too long. The other three were poised, waiting for his response. “I don’t think you would let me say no if I tried,” he relented. Tim whooped and clapped Jon on the shoulder as he passed him, grabbing his coat and winding a scarf around his neck.

“That’s the spirit, Sims! C’mon, get your coats and we’ll leave before the weather gets worse.” Jon meandered into his office, the chill hanging in the air, and searched the room for any abandoned coats he may have left behind. He was a bit forgetful (and a bit of a packrat) but he was pretty sure he’d taken home his forgotten clothes before Halloween, when Tim was threatening to dress up as him for the archive party Sasha had hosted. The only thing he found was a pair of fingerless gloves, abandoned in his desk drawer. He slipped them on, flexing his hands against the knit fabric, and shrugged inwardly. It would have to do.

Jon closed the door to his office, locking it as he did so, before turning to see his assistants standing in the hallway, wincing at the lights they shone at him. “Jon? Where’s your coat?” Sasha’s voice was equal parts accusing and patient, like reminding a child to wash their hands.

“I-well, I didn’t bring one today,” Jon flushed like he had been caught in a lie. “The snow wasn’t that bad when I left the house. And I, I don’t like the way it feels to wear one.” He held up hands helplessly. “I have these.”

Martin crossed his arms over his vested chest and the tails of his scarf. “It’s too cold for you to go out there without a jacket on. Too windy. You’ll catch pneumonia and die or something.”

“You can’t catch pneumonia like that, Martin. It’s a wives’ tale.” “You get what I mean! You can’t just wear a sweater and button up and fingerless gloves of all things and call it winter gear.”

Tim was stroking his chin thoughtfully, head cocked. “Would the old married couple shut up? I think I have something.” He took off his coat and unzipped the inside, extricating a fleece lining from the waterproof shell. “Here,” he draped it over Jon’s shoulder when he refused to take it. “If you don’t wear it, Martin has to buy all our coffees. You wouldn’t want to do that to sweet ol’ Marto, would you?”

Jon shrugged on the coat, grateful for the dark to hide his scowl and blush.

Sasha let out a noise of realization. “Oh! I have something too.” She disappeared and returned in less than a minute, holding out a knitted cap of some kind. “I keep a spare for when it’s too cold down here.” The inside was soft, lined with silk or satin or something, and Jon could feel some sort of applique on the side. Realizing there was no way he was going to win this fight, he tugged on the hat, frowning at the way it squished down the knot of hair he had so carefully arranged to be just the right amount of messy and structured.

Martin was stepping forward now as well, stooping slightly to wind a scarf around Jon’s neck and gently tucking the ends into the neck of the fleece. “Uh, here.”

“I-hm,” Jon struggled for words, feeling warm from more than just the new apparel. “Thank you, all of you, I suppose. I’ll-ah, I’ll give them back to you after.”

“No rush!” Tim nudged Jon with his shoulder as he grabbed Sasha’s hand, pulling her through the hallway to the stairwell. “Come on, I need the most expensive drink they sell in my belly, pronto!”

As the Archival staff left the Institute, they waved goodbye and wished a Happy Christmas to Rosie, who was packing up her own desk. They pushed themselves through the rotating door, immediately bowing their heads against the blinding white snow and the buffeting wind.

“Shit,” Martin said, pocketing his glasses. “No point in having these out. The one day I don’t bother with contacts. Are we sure we shouldn’t cab?” Jon glanced at the road, somewhere between slush and ice.

“I don’t trust lorry drivers on a good day.” Martin hummed an agreement.

Sasha led the way, the four keeping tight together against the wind and cold, the whirling of the snow drowning out all conversation, save for Tim’s occasional directions via his smartphone. Jon removed his own wire-rimmed glasses eventually, tired of them fogging up and of the snow melting into blurred spots, obscuring his vision even more. Martin held out his hand and Jon passed them over for Martin to put in his pocket. There was no one else out on the streets, no cars, no people. Jon imagined as they walked that they were the only four left in London, cursed to wander alone forever. His theory was proven wrong, however, when eventually the warm orange lighting of the coffee shop beckoned, the name Bean Village painted on the window.

“I think Sash’s name was better,” Tim declares in a low voice as they stamp their feet against the welcome mat and shake off snow from their hair and clothes. Jon removes the knitted cap to see the faux leather flower applique and the embroidered “S” he hadn’t been able to see in the dark, chuckling to himself and stuffing the mauve hat in his pocket. Their faces were all various toned shades of pink and the heavy heat of the air of the café, smelling strongly like coffee beans, vanilla, and cinnamon, made Jon’s once-numb nose and cheeks tingle as they were brought back to life.

Jon squinted at the chalk-written menu, moving to push up his glasses only to feel his hand falter when he found the nosepiece not there. “Oh-uh, Martin. Can I have my glasses?”

Martin frowned. “Ah, huh? Oh! Yes-yes, of course, sorry!” He fumbled for Jon’s glasses, drying the remaining melted snow on the hem of his shirt before handing them back.

The Magnus Institute’s archival staff were the only four customers in the store at present and made a point to order probably more than necessary, scones and muffins (blueberry for Martin and Sasha, cinnamon for Martin, a pumpkin muffin for Jon) in addition to the teas and coffees (chai lattes for Jon and Martin, a caramel latte for Sasha, and some sort of ridiculously sweet mocha for Tim), despite it being barely eleven in the morning. Jon saw Martin make a point to slip some extra money into the tip jar as well, feeling warmth bloom in his chest as he decided to do the same.

Honestly, this, squeezed into a booth, leaning into Martin’s side, with Tim and Sasha across from him, chatting, swapping stories, and sharing some institute-related memes Tim had drawn up on his phone, was the best Christmas gift Jon could have imagined.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fanfic #season 1 archive gang #s1 polycule #kinda?#not officially but its the vibes that count #timsash #jmart #at the least #holiday fic

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hypersweettea · 4 years

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The Miraculous Alignment: Dawn of the Wild Age

For @miraculous-mused from a prompt they reblogged that I dare not link lest this get lost to the crappy tumblr tagging system

When Marinette first began to merge with the ladybug that landed on her hand one day after the celestial event people were now calling the Miraculous Alignment, she was terrified. What if she became really small? What if her eyes got all creepy looking? What if she got a sudden uncontrollable craving for aphids that could never be sated because they were so dang small?

Luckily none of that happened. As the Wild age began its fledgling stages and people learned more and more about its affects, they realized that you didn’t get all the traits of the animal you merged with. Some believed it had something to do with you personality and scientists, those that had dropped what they were researching before the Miraculous Alignment to dedicate the rest of their lives to studying the Transformation, still weren’t sure.

For Marinette all she got was some mandibles sticking out the side of her mouth almost like tusks (that the boys and girls in her class swore to her were cute); a hard chitonous plating on her forearms, abdomen, and legs; some antennae; and a figurative green thumb. After she’d adjusted to the changes she took some time to mourn the fact that she hadn’t gained wings, it would have been nice to fly.

Some of the kids in her class had also been transformed. Most have them hadn’t been too drastic though. Kim had merged with a monkey, gaining opposable thumbs on his feet and a tail. Alya got a fox ears, tail, and hind legs. Kagami had merged with a bearded dragon and all she got was scaling and some horn like ridges over her ears. Alix got the ears, tail, and buck teeth of a rabbit which Kim has made the mistake of making fun of only once before he’d found himself on the business end of the powerful rabbit legs and feet she’d also gained.

Max got the trates of a horse that made him look like a satyr if they were part horse rather that goat. Max was thankful that nothing had changed to hinder his ability build robots or code and design video games. Luka had lost his legs to become basically a naga. Beyond that he hadn’t changed much in appearance besides some scales that accented his cheekbones and covered his arms. But if he opened is mouth you could see he had a full set of colubrid snake fangs that were thankfully nonvenemous. Like with Max, Luka was just thankful he could still play guitar. There were stories in the news of people that had lost their arms and hands for flippers or wings.

Nino had merged with a turtle and got a shell as well as scaling on his forearms, legs, and torso. Although his shell made his back basically immobile it otherwise didn’t hinder him too much in his day to day life. Kagami had said that he reminded her of a kappa when she’d seen it for the first time and Nino had taken such a shine to it he changed his DJ name to Cappa as a tribute to his new form and a nod to his cap that he was never without. He also found out after going swimming with the class one day, that he could breath through his butt, which all the boys, of course, thought was awesome. They had all spent the rest of the day timing how long Nino could spend underwater before he had to surface.

Chloe’s transformation was completely unfair. She got chitonous plating on her arms and legs that looked like elegant gloves and boots and the spoiled brat also got wings dang it. Marinette counted that as a negative for the existence of karma.

As if Adrien wasn’t going through enough being a famous model, the poor guy had gone and merged with a cat, gaining all the affects of a cat boy; ears, eyes, a tail, and some adorable little cat paws with toe beans to match on his hands and feet. He also gained a cult following from the Venn diagram intersection of weebs and furries. His dad, on the other hand, got the wings, eyes, and antennae of a Hawkmoth as well as an extra set of limbs that resembled their insect counterparts. As a result the man had shit himself in as a recluse and put his new appendages to work designing. They were at least good for multitasking.

Gabriel has been one of the more unfortunate victims of the Transformation. But none had had it worse than Lila, which Marinette counted tha as positive for karma’s existence although she still felt bad. Lila had had the misfortune of merging with a naked mole rat. First she lost all the hair on her body, which would have been fine people live with alopecia all the time. No, what made it truly horrible was that along with the hairlessness, Lila gained the wrinkly skin texture. So not only was she bald, she was covered in wrinkles that made her look truly unfortunate. Gabriel had taken one look at her with his many lensed eyes and fired her on the spot. Lila had taken the news extremely hard and had been dragged from the Agreste studio kicking and screaming. Marinette’s classmates had tried to console her but she’d practically bitten off the heads of anyone who tried to speak to her and the class walked on eggshells around her for about a month before she calmed back down.

After Lila calmed down Marinette noticed she started focusing more on her studies, especially biology. She even asked Max to help her get her grades up and study. When Alya asked her why the sudden change Lila vowed that should would find a cure for the Transformation. She said it was so people that had been affected negatively by the changes could get their lives back but Marinette knew it was so she could get back her smooth skin and glossy brown hair. The rest of the class saw through her charitous claims as well but ignored it in favor of praising Lila’s forward thinking. They figured that if she did find a way to reverse the changes at least some good would come from her vanity.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #lila salt #mild chloe salt #one shot #writing prompt #my writing

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frustratedpker · 4 years

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“First day” [PKNA fic]

My first official fic, Camera 9 centered of course!

I told you I‘d do it! And I did it! Thank you wonderful humans for encouraging me to write this (you know who you are ♥)!

I ‘ll soon post it on AO3 once my account is set up! It’s my first time writing in english so please have mercy.

Summary: Camera 9′s first day at Chanel 00 from Stefan’s POV / Rating: Approved for all audiences / Words: 1829

His first day hadn't been bad so far.

Well, it hadn't been great either.

He had done some takes, visited a few locations, done a few scoops, nothing extreme, nothing he wasn't already used to. Also, he really liked -although he felt a little bit guilty for it- his new gear. It was the latest technology with really interesting functions. Still, nothing like his good ol' reliable camera, but since the Chanel provided it for free... Plus, this time he didn't have to carry the camera around. At least not with his hands.

Some colleagues had tried to talk to him earlier, probably curious about this quiet, new recruit but their friendliness and willingness to keep the conversation going had eventually faded mostly due to Stefan's laconic answers.

But what was he going to tell them?

That he had some canned beans for breakfast and a whole life to keep secret? That, after his shift ended, he would go back to an almost empty apartment?

Anyway, it didn't matter anymore. It was lunch break and everyone was too busy unwrapping sandwiches and catching up to the day's gossips. Stefan looked around. The Chanel 00 office room was buzzing with chatting reporters, stressed archivist and complaining technicians, all gathered in small groups around their desks. Many were leaving the room in twos and threes to go grab a coffee from the nearby shops.

Stefan had thought of going too, but quickly dismissed the idea. After all, he had already ate his lunch an hour ago when he took his break. The deserted and quiet alley in the side of the building had been more to his liking than any cramped main street coffee shop. At least he wasn't required to talk to the stray cats there. Or take off his gear.

Going back to the cameramen room wasn't an option either. They would all be gathered there, talking loudly and telling bad jokes, sharing the mishaps of the day. No doubt they'd notice him and start asking questions. Questions Stefan wouldn't be able to -or even want to- answer at this particular moment. Or any moment to be precise.

“I'm Stefan, I just moved here after I got this job, I'm from Northern Calisota”. Stefan had well rehearsed this speech the night before but the will to actually use it had significantly decreased from the moment he went to bed - if his plain mattress could be called a bed. He now found this absolute anonymity as a great comfort, standing silently next to the wall of the crowded room. A lot of time had passed since he had been absolutely unknown. He was actually grateful that no one had asked. That he, hadn't given them any chances to do so. Unprompted friendliness wasn't something that he could deal with at this moment.

He, himself, had still so many loose ends to tie. It was only a week after all since he had arrived at Duckburg, found his apartment and this job. He was sure that he would get used to this new life sooner or later. But not just yet.

Ideally, he would have waited a month or so to settle down before finding any job. Just give himself enough time to discover the area, make his apartment look a bit more like a home, finally put his thoughts in order. Oh, so much had happened. But the bill wasn't going to pay itself and he had enough of canned beans. In addition, if he wanted to start over, he would have to move on. Even if it meant forcing himself to go out there.

That's how he, a stateless ex-photographer, found himself in an urgent need of a job when the Chanel 00 found itself in an urgent need of cameramen.

And it also happened that Stefan was more than just qualified for the job.

So, there he was! Monday morning, in the Chanel 00's crowded office room, also qualifying as a wall decoration after all this time he had been standing there.

Dan, the Chanel's director had asked him to wait for a moment before he assigned him his next task. He had vanished in the long corridor since and ten minutes had already passed.

So, Stefan could do nothing but awkwardly wait as reporters and errand boys would come and go. He had gotten some side glances and curious looks but no one had approached him. It didn't surprise him as he was the only cameraman in the room and also still wearing his gear.

That was another reason he liked it. He felt quite at ease with his face hidden by his helmet. Sure, he heard the other cameramen complain about headaches all the time but that wasn't his case. At this particular moment where he felt like a fish out of water, this physical barrier between him and the world was oddly comforting. Like a safe space where his thoughts could roam free. Plus, the dark glasses gave him the chance to observe without being seen, a fact that he found highly amusing. He wondered how many of his colleagues knew that the brunette reporter -Helen wasn't it?- was secretly dating Ross from the tech department or that the tall anchorman was stealing others' pens when they weren't looking. Oh boy! And that was only his first day! Stefan smiled.

But where was Dan? It must have been fifteen minutes since he had left. Of course, he was the director. Anything could have come up, anything was more important than an insignificant cameraman in his first day. He nervously looked around. Should he wait some more? Should he go? But what if he went away and then Dan couldn't find him? Should he go find his boss, was that appropriate? Should he go and wait somewhere else? Oh God, not in the cameramen room! Would the other reporters think of him as an idiot, waiting without moving a finger for this long? Stefan sighed and tried to ignore that he was getting more anxious by the minute.

Thankfully, Dan appeared in the end of the corridor. Stefan relaxed as he saw the director coming towards him holding a bunch of papers which he presumed were the details of the next scoop. He was ready to make a step forwards when a voice interrupted him.

“Oh, Dan! There you are”

A tall, blonde woman appeared out of nowhere and approached the director with a quick step. She was holding some record papers which at once got Dan to examine under her worried gaze.

Stefan hadn't seen her before. She was wearing a white shirt and a pink blazer with matching pants. Her long hair was styled in a messy bun. An anchorwoman? That was possible. Stefan noticed the pens arranged in her shirt's pocket and the handwritten notes visible in the papers she was holding. A journalist? That was more likely. But why was she still working during lunch break?

The woman's gaze shifted from Dan to Stefan.

“Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt!”, she apologized with a nervous smile.

“It's fine”, Stefan said, realizing that this was the first time he had spoken in hours. Whatever these two were doing must surely be more important anyway.

The woman had left Dan to read the notes by himself and was now looking straight at him with a curious air. Stefan did his best to hide how awkward he felt while her gaze was examining him, head to toes. As if she was scanning him. She didn't look intimidating though, perhaps even sweet.

“Are you new here?”, she asked with a smile.

“Yes”, was all that Stefan could mutter.

There came the questions! He wished Dan could read fast enough so he could get his next scoop assigned and just go.

“Well then, welcome to Chanel 00! Perhaps we 'll get to work together sometime, I'm a reporter”.

She balanced her papers under her arm and extended her hand.

“I'm Lyla Lay”

Stefan reluctantly shook it.

And now to the dreaded part! It was time to introduce himself, he couldn't avoid it anymore. Somehow the speech he had rehearsed seemed so stupid now. Would she be okay with just a first name? She had given her last name so he probably ought to give his too. She had been really polite after all. But wouldn't she recognize him? As if anyone would remember him... Why was this making him so nervous?

Dan, who had meanwhile finished skimming through the notes, interpreted the silence and decided to spare his colleague from the new weirdo's shenanigans.

“Well Lyla, that's our new cameraman St-”

“Camera 9!”, interrupted Stefan firmly.

Yes, it finally clicked. That sounded so much better. He had started to like this number. Although a little bit taken aback, Lyla nodded politely.

“Nice to meet you then Camera 9! I look forward to working with you!”, she said as sweetly as she could and then turned to Dan to take back her papers, “are we alright with this?”.

Dan nodded. Lyla shuffled her papers, greeted them and disappeared as quickly as she had come, leaving them alone. Stefan looked at her direction for a bit, listening to her footsteps fade away. This one seemed a little better than the others working in the Chanel. Maybe a little too friendly but still professional and polite. It wasn't out of gossip that she had spoken to him. At least she had noticed him...

“Are you even listening Camera 9?”, Dan violently brought him back to reality by snapping his fingers in front of him. How he hated when people did that...

Dan gave him the details and left him alone in the now empty office room. Stefan took out his helmet. His coworkers were right, it does get heavy after a while. He would have to get used to it. One more scoop and he would be able to go home.

Now, whom was he assigned with? The reporters he had met so far weren't necessarily bad, just... indifferent to work with. The only good thing about them was that they were snob enough to leave him alone. Maybe he had been assigned with this Lay woman. He had already met her so he wouldn't have to worry about it. Still, she had seemed rather chatty and Stefan wasn't sure if he had enough energy for this right now.

Stefan's eyes reached the bottom of the page. Ah yes, there was the name. He hadn't met this reporter yet, although -even in those brief hours- he had heard his name being yelled across the corridors. He folded the paper, placed it in his front pocket and put his helmet back on. One more scoop... One more scoop and he could go back to his apartment to enjoy some canned beans in the quiet of his empty living room.

After all, how bad could this Angus guy be?

#I wanted so much to share this #my fic #fic #pkna #Camera 9 #stefan vladuck

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