#RIP to that monologue he had prepared indeed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 3 years

Text

Crossfire

Panda’s Notes: Hey, it’s a new fandom. >w< I kind of fell in love with the chaos and characters from Friday Night Funkin’, so I’ve got a few stories in mind. This one is based on this piece by @fluffymary!

Find it on AO3!

John didn’t have a side. Demons, mortals; the blood of both ran through him. All he really knew was war. The smell of the gunpowder; the ringing in his head from explosive shells; the sounds of tanks and jeeps rolling across their battlefield and the men calling—

“Sir!!” He flinched out of his inner monologue and spun around to see one of his soldiers panting softly in the doorway. “He’s back again.”

As if on cue, there was a chorus of shouts under a melody of loud gunfire. Usually, John wouldn’t bat an eye, but today, he snatched his helmet and the staff leaning beside his door.

“Get Squad 17 together; tell them it’s time.”

The soldier sprinted down the hall, and John took a brisk march in the opposite direction. As he passed the infirmary windows, he could see several soldiers already appearing in beds; and with enough frequency that they quickly began to appear on top of each other. The kid certainly wasn’t slacking this time either.

The soldiers that had recovered were quick to fall into line behind John as he made his way out of the building and onto the field, fanning out to return to where their weapons had fallen from their deaths.

The air screamed as something tore through it at supersonic speeds, and the bullets from several soldiers’ guns were redirected or ricocheted back into their own or a fellow soldier’s face. A cloud of dust suddenly appeared, swirling around the little beast that caused it with his sudden stop.

Fully clad in red and green scales, carrying a beast of an automatic rifle, and excitedly whipping a long tail was the brat they’d met all those weeks ago; and had been continuing to meet every time the bastard needed to blow off steam or something. The little dragon glanced over his shoulder, eyes glowing bright green as he smirked with sharp teeth at John.

John only huffed as the dragon disappeared in a burst of speed, and he drew a strained breath as he felt blood strike his face from a soldier that happened to pass near him. Oh, he was going to teach this kid a lesson alright…

“Sir, do you copy?” John’s radio crackled softly on his shoulder, and he glanced around warily before tipping it closer to catch his voice.

“Copy. What do you want?”

“Squad 17 is in position. On your mark, sir.”

John smirked this time, drawing his staff from its holster on his back and stepping forward. “Everyone, you know what to do.”

The soldiers mobilized quickly, scattering away from the main area and gathering up in a tight group on the target practice field. Many were less than thrilled about the position they knew they were in, and they could only clutch their riot shields and brace when the call went out.

“Here he comes!” Someone shouted, and indeed, the beast could be easily spotted perched on a lamp post and sneering down at them. The rifle in his hands glowed with his green aura before he ripped it into the pair of Uzis they were all too familiar with. The second he vanished, soldiers were dropping and vanishing left and right as bullets ripped through them.

John took his time approaching; there was nothing more that the little bastard seemed to enjoy beside playing with his prey. In the meantime, he leaned into his radio, reconfirming the position and preparation of every member in Squad 17. He could feel a surge of power swirl around him and his staff, and he couldn’t resist the smile on his lips as he finally called out to their attacker.

////////////

Pico adored the battlefield. Miles away from any cities or towns to damage or helpless people to put at risk; dozens of targets to mow through for his personal speed tests; and, most importantly, he knew he couldn’t kill any of them. Pico had known about the “Tankman’s” power long before he’d first been summoned to this place by Lilith’s own abilities. He’d always assumed it was just some kind of rumor; one if his mother’s exaggerated stories.

But here he was again, watching the same soldiers he’d shot through the head reemerge from the main building to come rushing back to the fray.

Fuck whatever Heaven’s got; this was the life.

He must have been a damn sight, tail wagging all over the place. He hadn’t razed like this since he was little, and even then, it was with his mother over his shoulder making sure he was sticking to the targets and locations she’d been assigned. Nothing like letting a fully loaded toddler do your job for you, after all.

He was smacked out of the casual memory by a bullet bouncing off of his armored hand. An attempt to disarm him, probably. Yeah, right. He lunged into a run, his aura spreading out around him. He never got tired of the way bullets hung in midair, easily redirected by a slap from his hand or tail and usually finding a new target in one of the soldiers firing at him. He paused again to catch his breath, unable to keep from laughing to himself as he rolled his shoulders and checked the stopwatch he’d mounted on his rifle.

He felt a sort of tingle as a new, powerful aura hit his senses. The half-blood; the leader; the Tankman. He glanced over his shoulder, sneering a bit fiendishly at the man before zipping off and sending a shot through the soldier that was running by him. He adored pissing him off almost more than mowing through his soldiers. Almost. Nah, no he didn’t.

He spotted a crowd growing at the far end of the training field, and he made his way to the top of a lamppost to get a good look. They were practically lined up, every other row bearing riot shields that wouldn’t stand a chance against Pico’s shots while the others were taking aim.

“Here he comes!” Someone called, and they all seemed to brace and cringe.

Oh, well, now he had to flex. He made a show of transforming his rifle into his favorite pair of Uzis before lunging down into the crowd. The sounds of his guns couldn’t even reach him with how fast he was moving, and he couldn’t resist tackling some soldiers to the ground to make room for a sweep of bullets before shooting them as well. His average time was coming up; he just knew it. He needed a good finisher. Maybe something flashy…

“Alright, you little shit!” Pico flinched at that familiar voice, looking up from his position of standing on a soldier’s chest. Oh, perfect! A high level tag. It’d be a first, for him at least, but taking Tankman down a peg in front of all his soldiers would be a fantastic note to head home on.

“This little game of yours ends now, ya goddamn salamander!” Tankman barked at him, holding a…a fuckin…glowing stick?

Pico blinked, capping the soldier he was standing on before turning to face his target. Why was it taking so long for him to catch his breath? He could have been over there by now. He scoffed as he caught sight of Tankman’s smirk; what’s a little headache if he got to punch that jaw in?

His aura spread out as he prepared to rush, and whoa, whoa, time-fucking-out!

He was dizzy; way too dizzy. He stumbled to a stop, keeping his distance from Tankman; but he was still shaking. His guns vanished, and his head cleared a bit. He could see the staff in Tankman’s hand glowing, and when he narrowed his eyes to hone his demon senses, he could see purple lines and symbols etched into the ground around him. Unfortunately, such an effort threw his head back into a spin, and he found his butt hitting the dirt as his tail and scales shifted off of him to leave him seated there in his school clothes. He pushed his red curls out of his face, panting softly as he glanced around at the soldiers surrounding his new little cage. Shit; there went his run.

“Men, I’d say Operation Coyote was a complete success.” Tankman said with a grin as he stepped forward, and the soldiers cheered and laughed around him.

Pico growled as he locked his gaze on Tankman. His face shifted suddenly as his eyes glowed, flames wisping between the gaps in his teeth as he—promptly faceplanted into the dirt from the sudden lightheadedness.

“Aw, isn’t that cute?” Tankman jeered as others chuckled, and Pico looked up to see him kneeling beside the edge of the circle, which seemed a lot smaller now than it had a minute ago. “He tried to do the scary eyes.” The man popped the visor off of his helmet, and Pico’s face fell as bright purple eyes bored into him from pitch black sclera.

Tankman sneered for a moment at Pico’s speechless staring, standing up as he reattached the visor. “Heh, and that’s how you do it, kid. You like your new playpen, brat?”

Pico blushed a bit, embarrassed, and quickly got to his feet. “It’s tacky, old man.” He growled, clenching a fist and trying a punch. He wasn’t surprised when his hand couldn’t go past the circle, but he was surprised when Tankman’s hand came through to grab him by his shirt.

“Yeah, it’s an older setup;” The man hummed, easily dangling Pico’s human form as the kid kicked against the barrier. “It’s amazing what you pick up when you’re raised by Demon Hunters, eh?”

Pico snarled softly, trying to pry those deceptively strong fingers off of his collar. “When I get out of here, I’m gonna fucking—!" He was shut up when his face was yanked against the barrier.

“You’re not gonna do a damn thing, you shitty little snake-spawn!”

Pico had winced a little at what he assumed must be the “Captain voice” he’d heard rumors about, a cheeky smirk seating itself on his lips to mask his nerves.

“We’re getting sick of your games, runt; and it’s about time you were put in—”

“What?!” Pico shouted exaggeratedly, tipping his head back and kicking the barrier again. “I-I can’t hear you; some old fuck blew my eardrums out with his bitching!”

He just knew Tankman was glaring at him through that stupid visor, and Pico couldn’t help laughing tauntingly until he was dropped on the ground. The man drew his hand back, resting it on his hip as the other tightened its grip on his staff.

“Men, next step. Get started.” He ordered shortly, stepping backwards.

Pico scrambled to his feet. Okay, he was fine as long as he didn’t use his powers; no problem. The soldiers were regrouping, and about ten of them stepped closer to the circle with staves or wands or whatever conduit they carried. Pico growled softly; he had a feeling he knew what they were doing, but dammit, he couldn’t tell which of them was going to attack first. He glanced over his shoulder, sure that they’d go for his blind spot, only for something to lash around one of his wrists.

He yelped, planting his feet and trying to lean back. He did his best to suppress the instinct to use his demon strength, and he growled angrily as he was forced into a tug-of-war with at least one full-grown man who didn’t look like he was having much of a problem keeping the magic coil still. The soldier beside him seemed to perform the same spell, another coil of magic energy zipping around his free wrist.

“Ack! F-Fuckers!” Pico barked, his sneakers dragging in the dirt for a moment before he was yanked down to the ground. He cried out as his tongue got caught between his teeth, and he struggled to find traction to pull against the magic ropes.

“Not bad, boys.” Tankman called, sauntering into the circle. He rested his boot heavily on Pico’s back, and a pair of soldiers managed to wrangle Pico’s flailing legs from outside the circle. “Well, kid, not so tough now, are ya?”

Pico growled up at him, but dammit, he couldn’t think of a response. They’d actually caught him.

“Pfft, no stupid quips either, huh?” Tankman jeered. “Damn, that’s almost sad. Stevie! Front and Center!”

Pico could hear footsteps running toward them, and another soldier made an effort to pass through his sightline and give him a wave.

“Hello, Pico.” He said almost politely, carrying a book under his arm; and Pico hated how genuine he sounded. “Ah, sir, the spell’s ready when you are.”

////////////

John couldn’t help a roll of his eyes when Steve greeted the little brat, given the position they were all in. He was a sweetheart to a fault.

“The spell’s ready when you are.” Steve said with a smile, the book floating out of his palm as his hands glowed. As the pages flipped rapidly on their own, John cracked his knuckles and grinned.

“Good to hear it.” He chuckled, removing the glove on his left hand. “Hit me, Stevie.”

Steve took a deep breath and spread his fingers, and John felt magic wrap around his arm. It coiled and tightened between his fingers, supplying his powers without the circle draining them away. His arm shifted: a dark black-purple form with sharp fingers, meant to reach and pull at souls and the essences of life itself.

“Alright, kiddo…” John hummed, curling his fingers and sneering when he caught sight of the brat looking up at him. “Time to learn ya a thing or two about messing with soldiers.”

The kid yelped when John’s hand clutched at his shoulder, and John’s eyes glowed behind his visor as he forced the brat into a partial shift. Scales quickly covered his back, and half of his head became dragonesque, glowing eye included. The soldiers restraining him had to plant their feet and pull as he got a burst of strength to fight.

“Stevie?” John huffed, setting his knee on one of the kid’s legs as his free hand gripped a handle on his belt.

Steve knelt in front of their captive, smiling in that calming way he does. “Now, Pico, I can imagine how upset you must be, but I’d suggest you keep still. All we’re going to do is a sort of test. Research purposes.”

“Fuck you…” The brat hissed, and John smacked him on the back of the head with his free hand before he could stop himself.

“Don’t fucking talk to Stevie like that, shitstain.” He growled, returning his hand to his belt to finally pull up the knife he’d been unsheathing. “Since you don’t want it sugar-coated, I’m going to scrape some scales off you so our boys can find out what kind of bullshit makes you so damn bulletproof. Knowledge is half the battle, you know.”

The kid’s glowing eye turned to him, a mouth half full of sharp teeth trying to snarl.

John just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, kid, I’m so terrified.” He flipped the knife in his hand, angling the blade against the boy’s spine.

Despite the fact that he’d spent at least an hour sharpening the damn thing that morning just for this, it simply rattled along the scales like a tire of the off-road track. John sucked his teeth, his shifted hand clutching tighter when the brat tried to kick again.

“Knock it off!” He barked, sounding closer to a whine from where John was kneeling.

John bit back a chuckle, but a smirk played his lips as he set the tip of the knife at the back of the kid’s neck. “Why should I? You haven’t quit shooting up our battlefield every other day for weeks! I’d say this is the least of what you ought to get.”

Steve was eyeing the kid curiously, and he took a seat on the ground to look a little closer. John crisscrossed the knife along the scales at the center of their prisoner’s back, growing a bit frustrated when he realized he was only dulling his blade.

“I s-said quit it!” The kid’s voice pitched to a squeak, and he tried and failed again to pull. John actually paused this time, quirking an eyebrow.

“Ah, I see!” Steve suddenly said, smiling happily as he tipped his head to try and make eye contact. “You’re a little ticklish, aren’t you, Pico?”

The kid promptly looked away from him, not even letting out a growl this time.

Steve smirked a little, crossing his arms. “Oh, you’re very ticklish; my mistake.” He corrected teasingly, purposefully raising his voice a bit and giggling at the look the kid must have given him.

John rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Takes one to know one, Stevie.” He said with a little smile of his own, attempting to curb his frustration with that cute blush on Steve’s face. Of course, after all this hassle, the damn kid’s dragon hide turned his sharpest knife into a tickle tool.

Wait a fucking second…

////////////

It probably would have been easy for Pico to just tell Tankman that his demon form was pretty blade-proof, but he couldn’t resist the chance to upset him a little for putting him through this. He quickly regretted that decision when the knife managed to catch his nerves despite not breaking through his armor.

“Knock it off!” He insisted, trying to keep any giggles from slipping into his voice. That “Stevie” guy was watching him closely, and Pico was too focused on trying to struggle to hear whatever Tankman was saying. A shiver shot up his spine when the knife made zigzags across it, and damn him, that tickled so bad!

“I s-said quit it!” He squeaked out, still unable to escape the magic coils on his limbs.

“Ah, I see~!” Stevie said playfully, watching Pico’s face as he struggled. “You’re a little ticklish, aren’t you, Pico?”

The human half of his face felt hot, and he looked away from that stupid smile. He was just trying to get Pico’s guard down; he just knew it.

“Oh… you’re very ticklish; my mistake.” Stevie taunted, raising his voice enough that a few soldiers behind him actually reacted.

Pico gasped indignantly, and Stevie just giggled. Oh, he didn’t care how nice this guy was; Pico was lighting him up next time. He heard Tankman scoff, and he realized the knife wasn’t touching him anymore.

“Takes one to know one, Stevie.” Tankman teased, but then he seemed to pause as Stevie was pouting at him. Pico blinked and shook his head as it suddenly started to shift back to fully human. He didn’t have the leverage to look over his shoulder, but he saw Stevie and a few soldiers behind him smile and snicker.

Before Pico could figure out what was going on, he found himself laughing loudly and trying to struggle again. Tankman’s fingers were digging and scribbling over his back and shoulders, occasionally giving more firm scratches right over his spine. His hands crawled up and shoved into the spaces between his shoulders to flutter along his neck, ripping a squeal out of Pico’s mouth as he tried to scrunch his shoulders up to his ears.

“Gee, Stevie, I’d say he’s definitely pretty ticklish~” Tankman taunted, wiggling his fingers against Pico’s neck where he could. “The little brat’s caught my fingers.”

Pico, indeed, was making an effort to keep Tankman’s fingers pinned where they were despite the squeaky giggles he kept pulling out of him. This was embarrassing enough as it was.

Tankman leaned slightly, and Pico heard him whistle. There was a bit of a murmur, and a few footsteps crunched on the dirt.

“Oh, quit being a bitch, he can’t hurt you. Now, come here.”

Pico tried to look back, only to squeak and squirm when Tankman so much as twitched his fingers. Another weight set itself on his left ankle, and he could feel his sneaker being worked off.

“W-Wait a minute; that’s not fa—!” He tried to protest, giggles mixing in as Tankman leaned over him.

“Oh, yeah? And why is that? Your little dragon paws tickwish too?”

“Fuck you!” Pico shot back, unable to keep from laughing when the new soldier scratched gently at the sole of his foot, seemingly tracing the snake patterns on his sock.

“You know what I think is unfair?” Tankman continued, letting his nails drag one last time as he finally pulled his hands away from Pico’s neck; Pico still hesitated to let his shoulders down. “I think it’s pretty damn unfair that you keep running in here taking pot-shots at my soldiers just for shits and giggles.”

Pico had to bite his tongue to keep from giggling as Tankman aimed a poke between his shoulders to punctuate the line.

“So, obviously, it’s only fair that they get a few pot-shots at you. And hell, if bullets aren’t going to work, we’ll stick to what does.”

Tankman’s hands burrowed into Pico’s armpits, and the poor kid shrieked and yanked his arms down. “Ohoho! There it is! That’s a tickle spot, alright!” Tankman’s left hand came to pry at Pico’s right arm, his free hand scribbling faster and digging to draw out loud squeals.

Fingers were scribbling all over his foot, and someone else was digging into the back of his knee. He let out a cackle when someone’s hand found the soft part of his side, almost catching the edge of his stomach. Stevie still sat in front of him, ruffling Pico’s hair with one hand while the other gave gentle scribbles around his ears that made him giggle even harder.

“Sir, why don’t we flip him over?” Stevie suggested. “Get the poor thing out of the dirt.”

“Heh, yeah?” Tankman asked playfully, hooking his hands under Pico’s arms. “Or do you just want to find out if his tummy is as bad as yours too?”

“John!” Stevie scolded with a chuckle, and Pico flailed a bit as he was lifted up. Two soldiers grabbed his wrists, and—Wait, when the fuck did his hands get free anyway?! Pico didn’t have a chance to think about it, since several soldiers’ hands returned to their positions of scribbling or pinching around his torso.

Pico’s voice was lost in squeals and cackles as he tried to writhe. That same bastard had ahold of his foot again, and someone else was reaching over to scratch under his toes. An arm was hooked around his leg, and fingers scribbled under his knee; a claw-shaped hand vibrated and squeezed around his stomach, catching the edge of his bellybutton every time he squirmed; knuckles dug and twisted against his ribs; and there was some feather-light tracing under his chin and down his neck.

Pico was a damn patient person. He’d have been willing to forgive all that shit.

If the fuckers weren’t teasing him!!

It was mostly the fact that they were laughing at him that irked him—no, he was not just going loopy from his own laughter, the soldiers were chuckling at his ordeal like fucking sadists—but the cooing in his ears and to each other about ‘how cute’ he was, and ‘poor thing’ and ‘Maybe we could let him go if he’s learned his lesson~”

Oh, yeah, that Stevie guy was so dead.

Tankman laughed beside him, arms crossed for a moment as he tapped his foot. “Nah, maybe a little longer. Kids like him tend to need some tutoring, y’know?”

Stevie gave him a little push, chuckling, and Pico tried his best to find some clarity.

A little headache was worth the glow that came to his eye.

////////////

John shook his head as he observed the chaos. Poor kid was kind of getting destroyed. Not that he didn’t deserve it, of course, but John certainly didn’t envy him right now.

Steve approached him with a smile, softly nudging John with his shoulder and adjusting his glasses with his thumb. “The guys are ruthless as usual.” He commented, sidestepping the poke John tried to give him.

“Yes. I’ve trained them well.” John chuckled, only to snicker and shake his head as a few of his soldiers broke off into their own little tickle fights.

“Think they should let up a little yet? I almost feel bad for poor Pico.”

John wanted to roll his eyes, but they stuck on Steve as he smiled fondly. “Yeah, no.” He snorted. “Good cop ain’t on call today, Stevie.”

“Maybe we could let him go if he’s learned his lesson~?” Steve suggested, raising his voice so the kid could hear him.

John let out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nah, maybe a little longer just for that. Kids like him tend to need some tutoring, y’know?”

“John, you’re terrible.” Steve giggled, punching his arm lightly, and John chuckled with him until he felt something.

He looked up to see the kid glaring at him as best as he could through all that laughter, one eye glowing a bright, flickering green. He rolled his eyes and smirked.

“Yeah, kid, I’m so scared…” He huffed, stepping forward and kneeling in front of him. “But as long as this circle’s up, your powers aren’t getting you any—”

Something rattled, and John spun around for a second. It had sounded like it was right against his head, as if he was wearing a rattlesnake around his neck.

Rattlesnake…

“John?” Steve called hesitantly, looking around for a moment as well. When John’s eyes fell on him, they widened fearfully before he could catch himself. A tiny spot of green light rested perfectly still on Steve’s chest. As he was pulling his staff from over his shoulder, a hail of bullets came down fast enough to turn Steve into a fine mist and hard enough to rip deep burrows in the dirt where he once stood.

“Stevie!!” He cried out, eyes narrowing sharply as he turned around. “Men, get back; get behind me!”

The air itself seemed to rattle with gunfire as the soldiers around the bastard kid were quickly thinned out. Those who had managed to get behind John were encased in the purple shield he cast. Slashing lines were cut deep into the dusty earth, cutting through anyone in their path, and, as John was quick to realize, upsetting the ground enough to break the barrier spell they’d spent so long setting up.

The kid seemed to realize, too, since he shifted quickly into his demon form and curled up tight to protect himself. The rattling came closer until bullets were battering John’s shield. He growled to himself, and the soldiers around him attempted to aid him in boosting the shield’s power, but it seemed to chip faster with their effort.

It burst within seconds, and all of John’s soldiers were gone before he could blink. And to top it all off, John’s body was thrown to the ground by a weight attempting to cave in his ribs. A heavy boot came down on his collarbone. When he was finally able to open his eyes, he found himself staring down the barrel of a rifle, his helmet lost or broken somewhere during the chaos.

Two rattling tails swayed slowly in his peripheral. Less than he was used to; she wasn’t too mad. The gun was shoved up against his cheek as she ground the toe of her boot into his neck.

“O-Okay, easy, easy! Krotalía!” John choked out, grabbing at her ankle with one hand.

“Sergeant John Captain…” She hissed slowly, eyeing him through the sights. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten my name. Maybe got your hand shot off in a way ya finally couldn’t fix it. Would explain why ya never write me anymore.”

John could hear his soldiers’ footsteps coming from the main building, but they knew to keep their distance from this one.

Krotalía continued with a snide chuckle. “But, nah. Here I find you: still in one piece; still running the boys up and down the field; and most importantly: Picking on my goddamn kid!”

“Ma, I was fine!” The kid suddenly argued, stepping forward half shifted. “I could have handled them!”

John saw one of Krotalía’s tails split into two, and a gunshot rang out as the kid was thrown backwards with a little squeak.

“Oh, we’ll be discussing your punishment in a second, ya little hell spawn.” She snarled, but John could see her smiling over her shoulder.

“Alright, Rattlesnake, cut the shit.” John huffed, giving a small grin of his own. “Let me up. We’ll chat, yeah?”

Krotalía hissed faintly, unable to keep the smile off of her lips as she finally pulled the gun away from John’s face. “Yes, let’s…” She stepped back, turning away from him and giving her son a playful kick where he was lying.

John sat up with a wince, coughing softly and spitting some blood between his teeth. “So, who wants to talk about how your little brat has been razing through our battlefield like clockwork for the past few weeks?”

The woman chuckled, lifting her kid up by the back of his shirt and setting him down. “Yeah, I had a feeling he’d been getting some training in somewhere. He’s been getting awfully competitive with me lately.”

John glared slightly; fuck him for expecting a mischief making snake bitch to discipline her mischief making dragon brat.

She laughed at him though, resting her rifle over her shoulder. “I know that look, Johnny; you read like a bad script.” One of her tails whacked her kid to nudge him forward. “Go on, Pico. Make nice for once.”

The kid crossed his arms and looked away, thumping his tail on the dirt behind him; and when he finally looked up at John, he just stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry.

John snorted before he could catch himself. “Y’know, if you’re going to act like a four-year-old, maybe you should expect the tickle monster to get ya again next time too.”

He blushed brightly and snarled, shifting suddenly and attempting to lunge, only to be caught in one of his mother’s tails. “Dammit, Pico!” She growled while John just laughed again.

She set him on his feet again, and he shifted back to a mostly human shape before she gave him another whack on the back of his head this time. He grumbled angrily and stepped forward, extending a hand.

“…You know I’ll be back, right?” He asked, hinting a smirk.

“You gonna call your mommy to bail you out then too?” John teased, but he was quick to accept the handshake before the brat… Ugh, before Pico took it back. He even ruffled that mess of red hair as he chuckled and let go of his hand. “Krotalía, you don’t have to make him apologize. We’re all friends here, yeah?”

Pico spit out a little spark of flame and tried to pout, but he couldn’t help smiling a little. Krotalía looked between the two of them and rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“Boys…” She snickered, slipping one of her tails around Pico to guide his turn away from John and the soldiers. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go over those numbers you got.”

Pico had bounced excitedly at the idea, but he glanced back as they were walking. He drew one of his handguns from thin air and sneered right at John. “I’ll get you, old man…” He growled playfully, getting a little smack on his arm by his mother’s tail.

John chuckled, shaking his head. He’d look forward to it.

“John!” John glanced back to his troops, and the crowd parted slightly to let Steve run up. John smiled as he caught him in a hug, sighing softly over his shoulder and squeezing him tight.

“Are they already gone?” Steve asked softly, having to fix his glasses when John let him go. “That’s a shame. I wanted to speak to her.”

“You would say that after getting fucking shredded, wouldn’t you?” John chuckled, giving Steve a playful shove before addressing the soldiers that had gathered.

“Alright, men! I’d say we handled that pretty well, all things considered…”

There was a chorus of chuckles and murmurs in agreement.

“Now, I think we all know damn well this isn’t the last time we’ll be seeing Pico rushing through here. More importantly, the kid’s not gonna fall for that trick so easily again. It’s time I put you all on some heavier demon hunter training.”

He glanced back at Steve, who was already flipping through his summoned spellbook. “Game on, Stevie?”

Steve smiled fondly and shook his head. “Game on, sir.”

#a panda writes a thing #friday night funkin #friday night funkin pico #tankman #Tickling #fnf tickling

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daily-rubbersoul-redux · 3 years

Text

Jacian stood across from Natalio in the abandoned street, hand on the hilt of his sword. A determined frown was painted across his face, and the wild was blowing gently through his hair.

This was it. The final confrontation.

….He knew full well that he would be incapable of taking down the man on his own, especially since he had no idea where his main sword had gone after the incident three weeks ago. But if he could hold out until Gabbrielli and Taiana returned, and wear him down enough, then…

He was sure they would not fail. He would not fail.

“….So this is the course of action that you have decided to take.” Natalio let out a sigh. “…I expected as much.” He met Jacian’s gaze with a stern frown of his own. “Fine then; You know what comes next.”

“Indeed, I am well aware. And I do not intend to lose.” His gaze hardened.

“Hmph. Then allow me to ask you this: Why fight? Or rather, who are you fighting for? Your father? Your friends? The girl?”

“…While I would normally say yes to all of those, my answer is no. This does not pertain to them; It is between you and I. This is a battle not of strength, but of convictions. And so, I am fighting for myself; I am fighting because I believe in the strength of my own convictions, and I believe them to be stronger than yours as they are now.

Face it, Natalio; You have fallen from grace. And until you yourself can see how far you have strayed from the path you once set off on…

I REFUSE TO LET UP!” With that, he drew his sword, swiftly taking a combative stance before leaping forward with a battle cry.

[the rest has been put under a cut bc this shit is 18 fucking pages long, and i'm not about to clog everyone's dashes with a text wall THAT LONG-]

Natalio stood firm, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to take Jacian’s blow head on. Normally, he would be at a disadvantage; He was fighting with no weapon, and Jacian had a sword and the skills to use it masterfully, after all. However, as he would quickly prove by parrying Jacian’s oncoming attack, he had no need for a weapon.

Jacian’s boots skidded against the pavement as he went flying back. He had expected this, but even still… He felt a twinge of fear as he watched the slashes left by his blade rapidly heal and disappear. This was going to be a difficult fight; It would likely come down to a test of stamina, and even then, he was at a disadvantage due to his lower defenses and inability to utilize his full power. But all he had to do was hold out until the others returned; And that, he was sure he could do. He once more took up an offensive stance. Alright then, it was time to put his training to use…

As soon as Jacian finished that thought however, Natalio decided to go on the offensive as well, springing forward to attack. Jacian only had less than a second to process this, and dodge, but…

He was ready. With a small flash of greenish-yellow light he dodged to side, almost too quickly to be seen. Small particles of electricity surrounded him as he went in for a counterattack, though he was once again intercepted, this time by Natalio catching the blade before it could hit its mark. He ignored the blood slowly making it’s way down his arm as he looked over Jacian. “So, you have been practicing with your powers… Hm. Hm! I must say, I am impressed Jacian.

…Though we both know that simply dodging will not be enough to tip the scales in your favor.” In one swift and powerful notion, he threw Jacian’s blade back towards him; Though the blonde managed to keep a hold of it, he was sent flying back once more. Natalio crossed his arms as Jacian regained his composure. “You say that he with the stronger convictions shall be the victor, full well knowing the strength behind my own, and yet you still choose to fight. You are no coward, but I also know you are no fool.” His eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you implying?”

Jacian gave no reply, simply taking an offensive stance once more, eyes narrowing as well.

Natalio let out another sigh. “…Then, so be it. No more talk.

And no more holding back.”

And so, the two began to truly battle; Each clash resulting in cuts that quickly healed, burnt flesh that quickly regenerated without as much as a scar. Jacian managed to dodge most of the man’s attacks, but the few blows he did take were akin to getting hit by a sledgehammer. He still was managing to keep up, but… It was clear that he was losing in terms of stamina, if only by a bit. But still…. If he didn’t do something fast to buy himself some more time, he might be in trouble. He had an idea, but… He glanced at his blade.

… It would be very, very risky…

…He had no other choice. Without giving a Natalio a chance to fully recover from the last flurry of blows, he rushed forwards, electricity swirling at his hands. He had to time this right; he only had one shot.

He leapt forward, letting out a determined scream and, letting the electricity flow through the blade milliseconds before impact, slashing diagonally across Natalio’s chest, and leaving a long, deep gash of burnt, bloody skin. The man gritted his teeth, letting out a groan of pain as he staggered back.

Jacian sprung back, surveying the damage both to the other man and his own weapon. It was now half as long, with naught but jagged fragments of steel left at the end. The entire top had been vaporized… It was most certainly unsuitable for battle. But still usable if need be…

Natalio was still reeling from the attack. To think that Jacian had that kind of power within him… Truly, he had potential.

…To bad he would…

Hm…

Jacian took a minute to try and regain some of his stamina as the wound across Natalio’s chest slowly began to heal itself. At this rate, he… He wouldn’t have enough time. And having a smaller weapon meant he would have to get closer if he hoped to get any hits off…

Shit. This was looking bad.

And bad it was; In the split second that Jacian had been trying to figure out the best course of action, Natalio had recovered enough to go for another attack. By the time that Jacian noticed, he no longer had any opportunity to dodge; All of his options were covered. He took up a defensive stance, not knowing what else to do, and closed his eyes as he braced for impact.

…Which never came. Rather, all heard was a grunt of pain from Natalio. What in the gods name…?

Even to someone like Jacian who was probably closer than most people to approaching anything resembling an understanding regarding the principal, he still had no idea how it was that Orlando was that good at being sneaky when it really mattered. Maybe it was just a skill he developed to be more "evil" at some point, but the end result was that, in one moment, he wasn't there, and in the next he was, brandishing Jacian's lightning blade like someone who was completely unfamiliar with the concept of sharp metal. That said, the only explanation for the way the sword lodged itself into Natalio's back like a thrown battleaxe lodged itself in a skull was pure luck.

"I've gotta say, I probably should've asked you about how your powers worked before building a contrived plot around them, but any chance you can magic this thing up for me?"

Jacian opened his eyes in shock. "Wh- Orlando!? Why are you... WHY DID YOU COME BACK!?"

Unfortunately, in the time that Jacian had been distracted by his friend's appearance, Natalio had already managed to rip the blade from his back, hissing in pain as he did, before the wound started to heal itself once more. He inspected the blade as it held it before him; This was the sword that Jacian had forged specifically so that he could utilize his abilities more often, yes? Hm...

"Orlando, please, you must leave! You are in great danger being here, and I refuse to let anyone else get hurt, so please, just this once, listen to me!" Rather than holding an expression of pleading of desperation, Jacian's face displayed an expression of pure, raw determination.

Orlando huffed, crossing his arms. "I don't know how much I really managed to help you while we were talking things out, but at the very least I figured out this: If I'm in 'great danger' or whatever, then you're in danger too, and I'm not going to just let you take everything on by yourself! We're supposed to be... a TEAM!"

In the midst of Orlando's brief monologue, Chumbawamba had crawled its way up on Natalio's back and delivered as many stings as it could before Natalio could tear it off as he had done with the sword - the poison delivered by its stings wouldn't be capable of freezing a man of Natalio's size for at least an hour, but it did hurt like hell, staining the wounds a neon pink even after they'd regenerated. Just as his Stand had been disarmed, Orlando used the word "TEAM" as a war cry - in one fluid motion, he drew his hammer, spun around, and shattered the man's jaw.

The blow sent Natalio reeling and forced him to stagger back a few paces. He slowly straightened his head out, wiping the blood from his mouth with his free hand. Tch…

“Dammit Orlando, this is not-”

Before Jacian could finish his sentence, Natalio had firmly planted his foot into Orlando’s chest in a manner similar to Ganondorf’s forward tilt, sending the principal flying back, landing splayed out on his back. Natalio sighed as he resumed a normal standing position. “Stay down; This is not your fight.”

Though those words fell on deaf ears, as by this point Orlando had likely lost consciousness. Jacian tried to run over to his friend, but his path was blocked by the larger man.

“He will be fine. Here.” He tossed Jacian’s sword to him. “There is no point in us fighting if you are at a disadvantage; It would not be fair, and any victory on my part would be meaningless.”

Jacian was at a loss for words as he caught his greenish blade, looking at the pathetic specimen that was the remains of his other sword. He silently tossed the broken blade aside, doing a few practice swings with his regular sword to get re-accustomed to its weight. With this, he…

He had a chance again.

Before the fighting could resume, however, Taiana finally returned, though she could only look on in shock at the scene that was laid out before her. “What on Earth… WHY IS ORLANDO HERE!?”

Jacian turned his attention to her, with Natalio simply waiting as the two conversed. “He came back to try and help, despite my wishes. Taiana, I know you want to offer me aid, but… Please, could you see him to somewhere safe?”

“Jacian, I can’t just… You look tired already as is! I can’t just leave you on your own, what if…”

“Taiana, do you trust me?”

“What does that-”

“Just answer.” His expression was somehow both comforting and determined at once, as an eerie shine made its way across his sword. “I can do this, Taiana. I promise, I will not leave you. Not again.”

She went silent for a few seconds, looking between him, Natalio, and Orlando, before giving a small nod. “…Okay. I trust you, Jacian. I’ll get him out of here.”

Jacian smiled. “Thank you.”

She nodded again, making her way over to Orlando’s unconscious form and hoisting him up, before departing from the area once more.

…Good. With no one else around to worry about, his true weapon back in his hands, and a foe near impervious to death…

He had no reason to hold anything back.

Once she was out of sight, Jacian let out a deep sigh, before giving Natalio a determined glare. “Now then…

No more holding back.”

As Jacian said that an eerie greenish-yellow glow began to envelop the blade, sparks of electricity coming off of both the blade and his own body. With a roar akin to thunder, he charged forward, using his power both to propel him forward faster and to deliver a large, electricity imbued slash.

Natalio narrowly dodged, getting nicked by the blow on his forearm which still left a fairly large gash. It was clear that the regular blade that Jacian had been using before had been hindering him; No wonder he had spent most of the fight simply dodging and biding his time. The man smiled. Good.

Now he could stop holding back as well.

With a roar of his own, Natalio charged at Jacian for a counterattack, throwing a meaty punch which Jacian only barely managed to block with his sword; A solution which still resulted in him skidding a good three feet back.

They both continued in a constant exchange of blows; Jacian was getting hit less, due to his speed advantage and the fact that Natalio often had no need to dodge, but every blow he did take was devastating. However, Natalio was beginning to show some signs of exhaustion as well; The battle could still go either way, though it was likely that the next few hits would decide its outcome. And at this point, Jacian was beginning to tire. His movements were becoming a bit sloppy; He was having to resort to blocking rather than dodging much more, and the strength of his blows were diminishing as well. He had to be careful, move too slowly even once and… No, that wouldn’t happen. He refused to allow it to.

He only had to hold on a bit longer. He could do this, he…

He…

Jacian went in for another attack, hitting his mark with exceptional force, but leaving himself open for a split second in the process. And in that split second…

Natalio sharply kneed him in the chest, completely throwing him off and causing him to double over in pain, before following through with a roundhouse kick, sending the blonde flying. He tumbled against the ground, landing on his side with his sword clattering against the concrete beside him. He let out a small groan of pain, curling up a bit as he clutched at his chest. Shit…

Natalio slowly wiped away the blood that had accumulated on his face over the course of the battle, his breathing heavy and labored. Many of the wounds he had sustained were mere memories at this point, but some—a select few, mind you, but some—had managed to leave actual scars. He was impressed, very impressed, but… This fight had drawn on for too long; He needed to end this, now, while he still could.

He began speaking as he approached Jacian. “I must admit, Jacian; You have done exceedingly well. I could feel your determination to win in every blow, see it in every movement. You are incredibly skilled young man. You should be proud of that.”

Jacian weakly looked up at the man, as he now stood over him blocking out the evening sun.

“However, you made one fatal mistake, Jacian.

You underestimated my resolve, and my faith in my convictions.

And for that, you shall pay dearly.”

He grasped the boy by the collar, lifting him up to meet his gaze. “You are well aware of the consequences for betrayal, Jacian. I truly do wish that it never had to come to this. But,” He swiftly punched Jacian in the gut with immense force, prompting a gag of pain as the boy began to cough up blood “I am afraid that you have lost.

…Send my regards to your father.”

As he prepared to throw another punch, Jacian weakly began to raise his arm, and made a feeble attempt to hold the man’s hand back. Natalio stopped moving, further impressed by the boy’s resolve, although… A bit confused as to what he hoped to accomplish with the meager action.

He hacked up more blood, and at this point was barely able to keep his eyes open. “No.” he croaked out, his breathing as shaky as his voice.

“…Y-you are the one who… has lost.” Before Natalio had a chance to reply, Jacian screwed his eyes shut, shouting as loud as his weakened lungs would let him. “GABBRIELLI, NOW!”

Natalio’s expression turned to one of confusion as a figure veiled in shadow with a hold on a long object leapt down from the roof of a nearby building. Before either of them could react, Natalio would find himself with a lance plunged into his back, letting out a yelp of pain as he released his grasp on Jacian, who crumbled to the ground in a pitiful mass, breathing heavily.

Gabbrielli ripped his weapon out, using his father’s back as a springboard to gracefully leap to Jacian’s side, before gently picking him up and putting some distance between them and Natalio.

“I-I told you I could… Do it…” Jacian smiled weakly, before hacking up more blood.

“Hey, easy there Jacian… And I know. You really are skilled, both in combat and with your words and plans. Now hold still.” Gabbrielli gently placed his hand on Jacian’s forehead, a warm light enveloping them both as what appeared to be feathers fluttered around them. After a few minutes, the glow dissipated, and Jacian grabbed his sword once more, using it to help him shakily get to his feet.

“…Are you ready?”

“Yes. Thank you, my friend.” The two turned to face Natalio, who was still recovering from the deep wound in his back, and the deeper wound in his heart.

“Gabbrielli… You…” He was trying his best to keep up his anger, but… It was clear that the metaphorical mask of his emotions was cracking.

Jacian, now having recovered enough to stand without the support of his sword, opted to point it at the man instead, his determined expression returning once more, with an intensity far greater than previous. “Face it, Natalio. You no longer hold the iron clad resolve that you once did; Your convictions have become weaker, and you no longer fully believe in your goal. The fact that I was even able to pull this off proves that. And if you still do not believe me…”

“THEN ALLOW US TO PROVE IT!” Both boys shouted, rushing forward before engaging the man in what could only be described as a dance of blades. They took turns landing blows, gracefully pulling back after they struck to allow the other to take a turn, before finishing with a simultaneous slash that left two large, vertical gashes across the man’s chest.

Jacian hopped back as Natalio groaned, staggering backwards a few steps, though Gabbrielli stayed put, facing his father with a sad yet stern expression.

“…It pains me to do this father. It really, truly does. I… I didn’t want to believe it, when Jacian had told me what you had done, but… After seeing what I have today, I am unable to do anything but believe his words.” He lowered his lance, his expression staying stern. “…So I suppose that you can consider me as an opponent as well, father. That is, if my lance work was not enough of an indication.”

Natalio stayed silent, head hung low. Was this truly what it had come to? The ones standing in his way were…

…

…So… Be it…

Without a word, he wound up his fist, preparing to throw another punch. Gabbrielli stood firm, not a trace of fear in his eyes.

Natalio threw the punch.

…Though his fist stopped less than an inch from his son’s face; He had begun trembling.

…He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to willingly, KNOWINGLY, hurt his child. But why, why? He had always been able to crush anyone who stood in his path; He had slain people who he considered to be his greatest allies, who he would have trusted with his life. So why, why now…

…Was there truth behind Jacian’s words?

“You see it now, do you not?” Jacian approached the man, his own weapon lowered as well. “If you really wanted me dead, then I would have been dead before the battle could truly begin. I know how you work, Natalio. I can tell when you are holding back. Even when you had me by the throat, the punch you threw was not full strength. You either did not intend to kill me, despite your words, or…

…You could not bring yourself to. Even though I am a traitor, in your eyes.”

The man stayed quiet, still shaking a bit but otherwise staying motionless and emotionless.

“…Natalio, please. For your own sake, just stop all of this. I understand your reasons, I truly do; When I first realized the truth of what happened to him, I was willing to do near anything to avenge my father as well. But surely you too can see that this has gone too far; That the pile of innocent corpses has grown too high for this to be considered anything close to moral anymore. Losing your own children should have been the wakeup call. This needs to end no-”

“SILENCE!” The man roared, finally looking up with a burning fury in his eyes. In the matter of mere milliseconds, he once again had Jacian up by the collar, though this time Jacian made no effort to struggle, his gaze and expression unchanging.

“You truly think you have any right to sit here and lecture me, telling me to QUIT? After all I have done to get here, all I have sacrificed? After having to let that… That THING use me in order to stand a chance against him? After I was duped into killing my own children, you simply expect me to QUIT!?”

Jacian stayed quiet, which only proved to further push the man over the edge. This rage, this fury...

He could tell it was naught but the result of denial.

“ANSWER ME! ANSWER ME!” Though his eyes still held the same maddened fury, tears had begun to stream down his eyes.

“…If you cannot come to that conclusion yourself, even after clearly displaying a sense of doubt in your actions, then nothing I say will serve to sway you. And as it seems that you will not willingly stop on your own…

…We shall stop you ourselves. This is for your own good, Natalio.

This is the last thing I do to serve you.”

Before the man could respond, Gabbrielli used the pole of his lance to sweep his father’s feet out from under him, causing him to fall forward, losing his grip on Jacian in the process, who hopped onto the man’s back and attempted to hold him down with Gabbrielli’s help.

Meanwhile, Taiana, who had been waiting on the same abandoned building’s roof that Gabbrielli had been, cracked her knuckles. It was time for her to do her part. She wished she could have helped more, but… Gah, Orlando just HAD to be himself. Still, at least she was here for the most important part of Jacian’s plan.

The part only she could do.

Taking a deep breath, she dived from the building, a blue light enveloping her as she fell.

Time to end this.

Natalio was struggling to throw the two boys off of him, though they had still managed to hold him down for the time being. “Ngh… Get the hell off of me!”

“I’m sorry father, but- Gh, no!”

Jacian stayed quiet, opting to focus what little energy he had left of keeping the man down, and nothing else.

If not for the fact that they had been fighting for nearly an hour, and that Natalio’s energy was drained from not only the battling but also from what could only be qualified as an overuse of his stand, there would have been no chance that the two would have been able to keep the large man down. But tiring him out first, and forcing him to take on massive injuries in an effort to drain all of his stamina…

It had all been a part of Jacian’s plan; He knew he stood no chance using brawn alone. But he was no mere soldier, no mere knight. No, he was THE Jacian Von Rittedel; Esteemed leader of the White Lily Corps, and professional evil rival.

Plans and strategy were his forte.

And this plan,

Was about to reach its grand climax.

As the three lay on the ground before the abandoned building, a blue light began to bathe over the area as well as the sound of something making impact with the ground.

Something BIG.

Being the only one actually facing the building, Jacian was the only one to bear witness to what this something was; Emerging from the light was a large, reptilian creature clad in black and orange scales that shimmered with a warm glow in the evening light. Its golden horns seemed to form a crown atop its head, and its slender build in combination with its aerodynamic wigs made it apparent that it was agile, yet also likely strong due to its apparent musculature.

It was a dragon, and not just any dragon.

It was…

“TAIANA!” Jacian shouted up at her, preparing for the final act of his grand plan. “NOW!”

She let out a roar, which could likely be heard across town, before grabbing onto the side of the abandoned building, beginning to crush it between her hands.

Debris was already beginning to fall, ranging from pebbles to rocks large enough to crush someone’s skull. Gabbrielli grabbed onto Jacian, but the two didn’t move.

Not yet. They still needed to keep Natalio, who was beginning to get more panicked in his attempts to escape them, down. By this point they had both utilized their weapons to pin the sleeves of his suit—as well as the shirt underneath—down as to limit his movements. Even so, they were lucky to have been able to manage for so long.

Taiana was moving as fast as she could, blue fire beginning to come from edges of her mouth as she barred her fangs in frustration. Just one more push and…

The side of the building began its collapse. Gabbrielli quickly sprung into action, feathered wings seemingly made up of a warm light springing from his back. Once again using his father as a springboard, he leaped off with Jacian in tow, both boys grabbing their weapons as they departed, before Gabbrielli flew them a safe distance away.

And it was a good thing that he did, as not even seconds after their departure, the avalanche of concrete and debris made its way to the place they had just been standing.

Natalio had no time to react; His legs were crushed near instantly, and any attempt his stand made to recover them was in vain due to the constant, unrelenting damage being dealt by the rubble.

Not that it mattered whether he was healed or not.

It was not as if he could feel his legs any longer anyways.

He lay there dumbfounded, as Gabbrielli and Jacian landed in front of him, with Taiana joining them shortly after, once more in her humanoid form.

The three teens stood over the man, looking down at him expressions varying from stern anger to determined sadness.

Jacian was the first to speak up.

“It is over, Natalio. You are no longer in a state to fight on; No longer in a state to pursue your goal. You have no other option than to surrender and accept punishment for your actions.

In other words, this is checkmate.”

Natalio looked down. “…I admit defeat. And if that defeat is to be at the hands of my own son, the person I aspired to take from, and the person I trusted most, then…

So be it.” He looked up at them as he said that, a tired smile on his face. “I think I understand now, Jacian; I understand your convictions. Your purpose for fighting.”

Jacian gave a curt nod. “Good. Now then, we are going to call the authorities to get you medical aid, since your stand will not do that for your legs anymore, and so that you can begin your atonement. I expect that you will wait here and accept what is to come.”

“…Of course.”

By this point, Gabbrielli had turned his head, trying to hide the tears that had begun to well up in his eyes. “Father, I… I wish it didn’t have to turn out this way. Why… I… I need to hear it from you. Why?”

Natalio’s expression softened, as he looked down once more.

“…Because I was emotionally weak, and unable to let go, my son. And I thought that by becoming strong, and destroying the thing that had taken my love, your mother, away from me, that I would be able to fix everything, and put her soul to rest.

Maybe I was wrong.

…But that does not mean that the bastard should be allowed to continue to soil the world with his foul presence any longer. No matter what, I will stand by that assertion.”

“…Yes, that’s the street. Alright, please do hurry.” Taiana hung up, before turning to the other two. “Alright, wrap it up guys. We gotta go.”

“…Farewell, father. I never will agree with what you’ve done, but… I still love you.”

“…And I love you as well, my son. Please, take good care of your sister.”

“O-of course.” And with that, Taiana and Gabbrielli began to depart, though Jacian hung back for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. His emotions were… Conflicting to say the least.

“…You need not say anything, Jacian. Thank you for your service; And for doing something for me that I was unaware I needed done. I hope that you continue to grow into an excellent young man. And please, watch over my son for me. Consider it a last request.” Natalio smiled again, and Jacian nodded, giving a small but genuine smile back.

“Of course. Farewell, my Lord.” And with that, he departed, joining his friends as they walked off, leaving the struggles of the past three weeks behind them.

Finally, it was over.

#and with that #it's over!#well #almost :]#thank you ceph aka orlando mun for helping me out with this :]#[white lily knight] jacian von rittedel #[bloodstained purple gladiolus] the lord; natalio roi #[blue sky prince] gabbrielli roi #[bladed rose] taiana seiryu #[actual lore?] story post

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chicago-reeed · 4 years

Text

Detroit Evolution

These are some notes that I took while I watched DE for the first time. It’s a lot. Like, six pages, a lot. I decided I should probably spare everyone’s dashboards and put it under a cut.

Warning: overuse of the fuck word because I am a dramatic little shit who gets overwhelmed easily

- Alright here we go. I don’t know if I’m mentally prepared to go through this hhhhh

- THE CINEMATOGRAPHY I NUT

- fuck he smellin the flowers good

- “hey tin can :P” “good morning gavin :P”

- I’m actually fucking crying IVE HAD TO PAUSE SO MANY TIMES JUST TO BREATHE AND IM ONLY AT 1:25

- FUCK ITS 1:27 AND HES FIXING HIS COLLAR HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WATCH THIS WHEN MY VISION IS BLURRY WITH TEARS

- “I don’t need to breathe” BAZINGA

- *slaps my face repeatedly* keep it together bitch

- “I like the way you look<3” aaaaaaaaannd here I go again

- HAHAHA HE WAS DAYDREAMING SAME NINES SAME

- oh god oh god witty banter WITTY BANTER I CANT FUNCTION

- C H R I S IM SCREAMING

- detective motha fuckin chris I don’t need to see any more I got what I came for

- Honestly all they need to do to calm down the protestors is get nines out there so he can say “please stop you’re being very mean >:/“ and they would probably just go home ngl

- “I’ve never been intimidated by people who hate androids” OH MY GOD NINES WITH THE BAZINGA’S TODAY WHAT A LEGEND

- can I just say the white jacket is such a power move I can’t believe nines invented fashion

- Gavin bein soft and reaching back for Nines in the crowd🥺homygod

- Gavin “no one calls him plastic but ME” Reed

- The only time I will support police brutality™️

- Gavin is so OP we stan

- Nines “you raise a fist, then I get PISSED😡” RK900

- “y’all have a nice day” Protect Detective Chris Miller at all costs

- Nines sees Gavin’s scars as charming PUT ME TO DEATH

- ADA OH LORD SHES STUNNING IM SOBBING

- Okay I need to pause and breathe again the cinematography got me chokin

- Uh ooohhh someone is jeeaaalouus😛

- Nines really said “no worry fam I’ll airdrop the case files to u”

- Ada: *exists*

- me: I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me

- HA GAV DEFINITELY JEALOUS RIP

- And nines back at it again with the sass I AM LIVING

- Chris and Gavin’s reactions to Nines imitating Ada is the best thing I’ve seen all year

- “I can do your voice too” HIS FACE IMDBDHDJKDJD CRYIGGGSBSN

- oh ;-; shit Michael really finna make me cri

- God damn the intro credits are so beautiful

- TINAAAAAAA BABYYYYY

- Real coffee hours with the sharktreuse mug🦈

- “our boy” SHIT IM CRYING AGAIN

- Tina knows Gavin was absolutely feral before Nines appeared at the DPD

- Half An Asshole squad please stand up we ride at dawn

- Gavin with the knockoff timbs WE STAN😎

- maybe “thank god, I hate you, you love me, move your feet, oop” will be our always

- I’m living for the whole “criminal minds” vibe goin on here

- Bruh Gavin got the hook-ups fr fr

- ❤️WITTY BANTER WITTY BANTER WITTY BANTER W❤️

- The level of reed900 is staggering

- I’ve had to pause and breathe so many times it’s pathetic I’m not even 15 mins in

- GAVIN SAID mwah<3🖕IM FUCKING DIED

- 850% godt damn Nines got that IOS 50 update

- NINES PUT CHRIS’ PROMOTION PARTY IN THE CALENDAR WHAT A GOOD DAD

- maybe “our calendar” will be our always

- Chris “wingman of the year” Miller

- Who’s that Pokémon??? It’s JEALOUS GAV

- The way Nines said “I don’t feel anything for her.” I see you bud

- insecure Gavin needing reassurance™️

- Im fucking dying I fucking died bro BRO WE ALL KNOW WHO YOURE TALKING ABOUT, NINES, WE ALL KNOW

- Asexual Nines FTW👊😤👏👏👏❤️He gives zero fucks of ANY kind

- AN ANGEL HAS APPEARED WITH A GLOWY BLUE SCARF

- BREAKING NEWS: affection-starved Gavin™️ is literally begging for love

- GAVIN REED STOP BEING MEAN TO GAVIN REED OR ELSE

- “But there’s much more to admire about you than to detest, I think.”<333

- JJ not being suspicious at all nope no way Jose

- Lazzo has said two words and I love him already

- I don’t think I’ve seen this episode of COPS before🤔🤔🤔

- We all know Nines secretly wants to wear those fun glasses

- “Officer I swear I’ve never seen that arm in my life, it’s my friend’s he just asked me to hold it for him, Android arm what android arm heh”

- “Like robot arms, not gun arms.” You’re doing great sweetie🥰

- HAND TOUCH HAND TOUCH HAND TOUCH H

- Chris “the interrogator” Miller😎

- THE CINEMATOGRAPHY

- soft n sleepy gav™️ is soft n sleepy

- FUCKING SLEEVELESS SWEATSHIRT IVE BEEN TALKING ABOUT GAV IN A SLEEVELESS SWEATSHIRT FOR SO LONG AND NOW IT’S REAL IM

- You can wear my😋😘sweeaatshiiiirt😝😁🤗 (I’m sorry I had to)

- inconspicuous loving glances™️

- #GiveAndroidsFuckinHealthcare2K20

- AAAHHHHHHHH I CANTT BREAF

- HEAD>ON>SHOULDER

- INCONSPICUOUS LOVING GLANCES™️

- Gavin has not slept in 80 years

- He really said “I’m fine” BITCH

- Bed time for brats™️ no later than 8:30pm

- hell yeah sleepover time

- “stop lookin at my insides n shit” I want that on a t shirt

- ANDROID DREAMS

- Nines is so soft I might die

- But he’s somehow equally suave as fuck how is this fair

- Oh my god dream!gavin is like Nines’ conscious this is so presh

- “What do you think Gavin was gonna say?” nsndJSKDOFIWKDBDNDNSJDBBDJDJDJDNDJXJNDIFUIFIEKWN HES STILL THINKING ABOUT THEIR CONVO

- dream!gavin you sly dog

- “To have this. Out there.” DONT FUCK WITH MY HEART LIKE THAT THIS INNER-MONOLOGUE FLUFF IS SO SWEET

- Nines being insecure™️

- Listen to dream!gavin, Nines, he has big brain

- The fact that Nines subconsciously KNOWS that irl!Gav “just wants someone that doesn’t hate him” but he’s STILL like alas, I can never be what gavin needs :’(

- nu babie don’t be sad🥺

- oh my god they’re both train wrecks protect them at all cost

- c r i p e s❤️the reed900 hurt/comfort we all needed

- FUCK

- Concerned boyfriends™️

- Maybe “I’m fine” will be our always

- GAV🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💔💔💔💔💔💔

- Insecure boyfriends™️

- Nines “I’m not going to get any closer to Gavin because I can’t help him but also I want to cuddle with him because he had a nightmare” RK900

- did someone say c a t

- dumb babie gav jus spoon the dumb android so you both feel better

- Me: *rubs evil hands together* aha here comes the angst

- cue tragic backstory

- oh

- tragic backstory indeed

- YES DAD!FOWLER WE LOVE

- Gavin is so desperate for anyone to care about him I’m crying tears

- SHIT IT’S CUDDLE TIME™️ NOW IM REALLY FUCKING CRYING

- Alexa this is so god damn sad play despacito

- YES

- HAND>HOLDING

- HEAD>ON>SHOULDER

- NINES’ SKIN RETRACTING WHERE THEIR HANDS ARE TOUCHING THIS IS LIKE EVERY REED900 STAN’S DREAM COME TRUE

- Oh shit it’s about to get domestic I don’t think I’m mentally prepared

- YOU CAN WEAR MY😝💪SWEEAATSHIIIIIIRT🤪🔥🔥🔥 (I’m never letting the sleeveless sweatshirt thing go)

- Uh oh NO FUCK I’ve read enough fan fiction to know that this is where Gavin’s fucking trust issues kick in and he decides pushing nines away is safer than getting closer to him SHIT

- AND NINES GETS CONFUSED AND HURT

- AND THEN GAVIN GETS HURT

- I feel angst in this Chili’s tonight

- “I need you to leave” aaaaaaahhhhhhhh here come a whole different kind of tears

- frick dude that ouches

- Insert sad babie noises

- Oml the tension☠️poor Chris and Ada are like😑😑

- Chris could solve this case all by himself change my mind

- Gavin and Nines = (ò///-///ó)

- Chris = :D~oblivious~

- HELL YEAH PARTY TIME

- BEST WIVES TINA AND VALERIE AHHHH

- reed900 who??? I don’t know her. I only know ❤️valerina❤️

- I can’t believe Gavin and Nines invented angst

- I went and got blue gatorade just so I could pretend I was drinking thirium like Nines

- #DetectiveChen2K20

- real sad gavin hours

- Ruh roh Gavin bouta die from the ‘rona virus because rat man smokes hella

- CINEMATOGRAPHY CHEEEEECK HOLY SHIT

- my entire aesthetic in a single shot jfc

- Aaaaahhhh Nines trying to be a supportive bf just makes me ;-; [takes damage]

- HES ACCEPTED GAVIN AS MORE THAN A PARTNER🥺that, my friends, is what we call character development

- We stan the otp aggressively talking about their feelings

- “I’m not going anywhere.” FUCK™️

- SMOKE>FACE

- Aaaaand they’re back at square one. It’s cool it’s fine it’s all good we can work with this.

- Gavin: I don’t need you ò-ó

- Gavin: *immediately after Nines leaves* fuck ó-ò

- “It’s fine”™️

- I love Ada so much hhhhhh she said 🤨

- “Basic Instinct” TINA WITH THE HEAT OMG

- *nervous laugh* haha Ada sis maybe chill a little bit ha ha

- oh no I have a not good feeling

- ADA CHILL ADA CHILL

- WHY IS HE FOLLOWING HER INTO AN ALLEY AFTER THAT SKETCHY TALK

- AAA FUCK FUCK FUCJDJEMNSNDJDNXU FUCK I FUCKING KNEW IT FUCK SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK

- 😖x1000000

- Oh my god this is so fucking sad Alexa play The Sound of Silence

- Nines got fucked up and Gavin is CONCERNED

- aayyyyy bro Nines full on nakey

- Tina and Gavin sad bro huggin👊😔

- ADA HOW DARE YOU. HOW VERY DARE YOU.

- Uh oh Nines is fckn PISSED

- he MAD mad

- Tina speakin straight facts I love her

- WOOP GAVIN FINALLY ADMITTING HE NEEDS NINES

- f u c k right in the heart

- I don’t want to attempt writing any notes at this moment because my thoughts are completely incoherent I am a MESS

- “I need you to come back, Nines.” DONT PLAY W ME LIKE THAT

- HAND HOLDING FTW

- Did Gavin really almost bring Nines back through the power of love I am SHAKING

- Dream!Gavin speaking truth as ALWAYS

- These damn flashbacks making me feel some type of way

- OH SHIT HE AWAKE

- that actually low key jump scared me

- God damn these sets are so fucking pro, I’m so happy

- REUNION

- Tina really say “Chris ;) ;) lets go get some ;) coffee ;) ;) ;) ;)”

- CHRIS’ REALIZATION FACE FUCKING LAID ME OUT I HAD TO PAUSE I WAS LAUGJINB SO HARD

- You Undead Asshole™️

- Gavin: ( ⚆ _ ⚆ ) fuck he actually heard me talk about my feelings n shit

- Nines: You literally told me you fucking needed me like five minutes ago

- Gavin: huh weird that doesn’t sound like me I actually hate you

- ooOOHHH S H I T

- REALLY IS THIS REALLY HAPPENIGN

- woah shit sorry I blacked out for a second what happened

- MY POOR LITTLE FUCKING REED900 HEART IS EXPLODING AND IMPLODING AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME

- CAAAAAAAAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE TONIIIGGHTT

- holy shit I actually gave myself a bloody fucking nose because I smacked my face too hard in excitement

- ❤️💘🧡💞💕💘💓💚💛💘💞💓💛💛💞💘❤️💚💘💜💕💖❤️❤️💕💓💗💘💖💚💝❤️

- FUCK

- “What dipshit programmed you to do that?” 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️FUCK

- My aunt came in and told me she heard me shouting then asked why I was crying

- HAHA FUCKING CHRIS IS MEEEE

- shit I need to like..,,,,physically recover from that

- whew okay break time is over let’s fucking go

- Nines in the cheeky turtleneck I SEE U

- #DETECTIVECHEN2K20

- Gavin: I’m ready to take this hoe DOWN

- Initiate protocol: SAVE ADA FROM HERSELF

- I could listen to Tina talk to dispatch for hours🥰❤️❤️❤️

- WHITE TRENCH COAT WHITE TRENCH COAT WHITE TRENCH COAT WHITE T

- Gavin being hella concerned boyfriend™️

- FIGHT SCENE™️

- omfg that crowbar really went *CLANG* when it hit Ada’s steel fkn abs what a legend💪😎

- Hell yeah epic Nines gif moment

- no Ada don’t choke Gavin it only makes him stronger

- CHRIS THE MOTHER FUCKIN GOAT😎👏👏👏he really said “fuck ur monologue I’m here to get shit done”

- ADA QUEEN YOURE OKAY SWEETIE

- That character development godt damn

- I might be reaching but Gavin is now wearing a white/off-white shirt/gray that kINDA RESEMBLES DREAM!GAVIN’S SHIRT. Coincidence? I THINK NOT. THATS SYMBOLISM IF I EVER DID SEE IT.

- “buyer’s remorse, huh?”

- “I can’t be everything you need.”

- That awkward moment when you realize the person you were hiding your feelings from has also been hiding their feelings from you.

- “a year of that fuckin’...Ken Doll face smirkin’ at me every day” BE CUTER GAVIN, I DARE YOU.

- naked hand = love

- CHEEKY BASTARDS

- FUCK FUCK FUCK ME

- THAT WAS SO DAMN BEAUTIFUL

- So my review of this film could be summed up by saying that I basically cried for an hour and fifteen minutes.

- Holy damn

#fun game: watch the film and try to guess what each of these crazy ramblings is referring to #im still reeling from all of that #I think I need to watch it again #yes that sounds like a plan #this is kind of like a review #if it were written by an emotional crackhead who got zero sleep last night #also #happy easter babes #if u celebrate it of course #what did we do to deserve this film #jfc there are still tears in my eyes #I need to watch it again asap #Detroit evolution #octopunk media #reed900

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years

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“90″ - Oneshot

“90” - Oneshot

My Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Plantonic!Gil Arroyo x Reader

(Mentioned) Sibling!Malcolm Bright x Sibling!Reader

Word Count: 2,145

Key: Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color Chunks or lines of text that are in italics means that it's (Y/N)’s thoughts.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of trauma (Whitly)

Summary: While out on a lunch break with your boss, you find out that your brother is back in town. Unsure of what to do, Gil tries to give some advice.

Author’s Note: So I had an idea while at work because I find myself thinking a lot about crime shows at work. The line that Gil says “Should have said 90. 100 I know you’re lying” really stuck with me for some reason. So I thought, what if he was told that by Malcolm’s sister, only to use it on him later? And boom, here we are.

It’s not my best, but I thought it was a cute oneshot ramble thing.

This takes place right before season 1 episode 1.

This was not beta-read, so please let me know if there are any errors!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to your father messing your family up from a young age, abnormal and criminal psychology seemed to be a “natural” path for you and your brother to end up going down. Words cannot describe the negative effect that Dr. Martin Whitly had and continues to have on your life. Growing up and really realizing the awful things he did to those women, your brother, and you made you see the world for what it truly is: Chaotic, painful, and full of surprises (both good and bad.) You saw that there were more monsters like him out there and you wanted to figure out who and where they were.

While Malcolm went on to change his last name and run off to Quantico to try to help catch more of these deranged killers, you changed your last name and stayed closer to home. If there was one monster living in your own home, they really could be anywhere.

Gil Arroyo was the officer that caught your father and helped make sure that your family was alright after The Surgeon was put away in Claremont Psychiatric. He helped you and Malcolm bond and grow as much as you could. While you did drift away from the rest of your family, you kept in contact with Malcolm and Gil.

As soon as you graduated college and walked into his office asking to be on his team, Gil knew he had to say yes. Not only to make sure you were safe, but also because he knew you had the ability to help get into a mindset that could help the team solve some of these trickier cases.

Which leads to today, a normal lunch break.

You and Gil went to a sub shop not too far from the station and got your usuals from Mr.Santos. While waiting, Gil was slightly shifting his feet, slightly visibly unsettled by something on his mind. You made your way to a table off to the side of the room and motioned for him to sit across from you.

“Go on and tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever's got your headspace all worked up.” Gil looked down and sighed out a slight laugh.

“What gave it away this time?”

“Do you really want to know?” Gil shrugged his shoulders and leaned back, trying to feign being comfortable even though he knew he was going to have to speak his mind sooner or later. You leaned forward, elbows on the table, slightly squinting your eyes, preparing for the rare chance to put the Gil Arroyo in his place.

“Well, for one, you haven’t been able to make eye contact or even look at me since we left the station. You’ve also had your arms crossed more than usual, which could be an attempt to make a physical barrier to whatever is creeping its way out of your mental barriers. Your jaw has been clenched for at least the last fifteen minutes, which means you’re at least slightly stressed about something. Do you want me to keep ripping you a new one, or do you want to just tell me what’s going on?”

Gil looked down to see that his arms were indeed crossed over his chest, he let out another sighed laugh, shook his head slightly, and dropped his arms. He took a deep breath.

“Malcolm is coming home.” Gill didn’t look up until after he spoke, trying to gauge your reaction.

When Malcolm applied for Quantico, you were happy for him. That same day, you found out that he had been meeting with Dr.Whitly. You had made a choice to try to stay as distant from his as possible, and yet, Malcolm was visiting as if he wasn’t locked in there for murder. You didn’t even hear him out, you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone wanting to visit that creature.

It drove a spike between your relationship with your brother. You knew that you two would mend it and make up eventually. But you didn’t expect to have to talk to him so soon.

One of the downsides to growing up like how you did and knowing so much about psychology now, you knew how to hide your emotions fairly well. Some would call it a blessing, especially working with the NYPD as a psychological analyst assistant. But right now, Gil hated it.

“(Y/N)? You still with me?” Gil tapped your hand to try to get you to focus on the real conversation as opposed to your inner monologue. You shook your head and tried to put on a small smile.

“Yeah. I’m here. I’m fine.”

“Now I know that’s a lie.”

“Oh really? And how do you know that?”

“Your real smile reaches your eyes. This one,” Gil pointed to your face, “is as fake as Pamela Anderson’s boobs.” A small chuckle left you at his choice of comparison. Gil now matched you and leaned on his elbows on the table. “Talk to me, kiddo. What’s going on in that big ole brain of yours?”

Leaning back, you started to play with your fingers as you tried to settle on a single question out of the handful that were swimming around your mind to ask right now.

“Do you know why he’s coming back?”

“From what I know, he got fired. Assaulted an officer.”

“Must have deserved it.”

“Which one? Him or the officer”

“Honestly, either one.” Gil slightly chuckled, knowing your brother as long as he has, he could definitely see the punch landing either way.

“Well, I don’t know. But... you can ask him that yourself.” You raised a questioning brow at Gil as he paused, trying to choose his phrasing. “I think it would be good for you two to talk. Go get coffee, take a walk, something.”

“Really? You think it would be a good idea to reopen that broken door labeled ‘Warning! Malcolm Bright! Do not open?’”

“100%” Gil tried to smile, but similar to how he pointed out on you moments ago, his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Mr.Santos came to your table with your sandwiches wrapped up and some chips. The two of you thanked him before getting ready to head back to the station to eat. As you got back out to the sidewalk and fell in step with him, you spoke about the case that you were both working now. It wasn’t until you got back to the station that you spoke on what was bothering you.

“You should know better than to lie to me, Gil.”

“And what am I being accused of lying about now?” He couldn’t help but sound a bit annoyed as he opened the door to the conference room where you had all of your notes and evidence board set up. The two of you setting up lunch as you continue.

“When you were saying that it would be good for me to try to meet up with Malcolm, I asked if you were sure, and you said ‘100%.’”

“And?” Gil asked, mouth half full of chips.

“You should have said 90.” Gil looked at you, waiting to hear your reasoning. “100 I know you’re lying.”

“You know I’m lying by me saying 100%?”

“There are very few things that we can say we know with 100% certainty. You of all people question the certainty of things. And with the subject being Malcolm, then there is no knowing how us trying to reconnect could go. And you know that. So--”

“I just think that you could help him out.” Gil interrupted, not wanting to hear your whole dissertation on probability and chance.

“So could you. You’re basically a father figure to us, albeit thanks to unfortunate circumstances.”

“Yeah, but he knows that I usually bring cases, not social visits.” A slight sigh exhaled through your nose, knowing that he was at least partially right. “And I know damn well that he would like to see his sister.” Gil pointed his sandwich at you before taking a bite.

“That's the great thing about him having two sisters though. He can go talk to Ainsley. Although, I know she is like mother in the way that they are dreadfully draining to talk to.” Gil put his sandwich down, looking down at the table and taking another deep breath. “There’s more you’re not telling me.”

The only response you got from him was a hand pointing towards the evidence board. You looked at the board, trying to see if he was pointing to something specific. When you couldn’t make anything out, you looked back to meet Gil with a questioning look.

“I think having two profiler brains on this killer could be helpful.” You took a deep breath in through your nose as you leaned back in your chair, looking up at the ceiling slightly, everything clicking into place.

“I see. You want us to make up so we’ll play nice when you eventually wave a case file in his face and drag him to the next crime scene.” You looked at Gil and saw him holding his hands out getting slightly defensive.

“That’s not the only reason. I know you two are some of the best profilers in New York. You are also the only ones that can truly understand and help each other thanks to your... life experiences. So in order to try to help catch bad guys like how we want to, and help you two finally get the relationship back to where you want to, yes, I want you to make up and play nice.”

You knew he was right and that this would be a smart move. You reach for your drink and take a sip. Your lack of response let Gil know that he had “won.”

“Plus, he feels bad for how things left off before he moved.”

The next few minutes were silent as the two of you finished your lunches. Gil got up to throw away your wrappers and such. As you thanked him, you turned to the evidence board and sipped on the last of your drink.

You tried to find more correlations or similarities between these victims, but you kept thinking of the same ones you already had written down. As much as you loved your team, they weren’t trained much when it comes to the thoughts and motives of a killer.

You haven’t been able to have a psychologically focused and interesting conversation with anyone since Malcolm left for Quantico. He was always one of a select few that didn’t completely drain your social battery and understood how far to push you to challenge you without causing any damage. Malcolm understood your humor, your ups and downs, and how to really help you. And you understood the same thing for him.

You missed that.

Maybe a mind like his would be refreshing and helpful nowadays.

JT knocked on the door’s threshold before poking his head in, phone in hand. You swiveled your chair around, knowing what he was going to say.

“Uni’s called in from east side of 42nd. Something weird. All I could make out was ‘blood paint’ and ‘skin mural’ before they begged for backup.”

“Sounds like something right up your alley, (Y/N).” Gil turned to you. You nodded and started to stand up, gathering the last of your trash and tossing it in the can.

You stopped before leaving the room. Looking down at the piles of case notes along the table, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty about not finding this guy yet. All of these victims with no answers yet. Gil noticed and put a hand on your shoulder. Before he could say anything, you spoke.

“I’ll try and reach out to him. I can’t let this guy walk around doing this shit again and again. I need a brain like Malcolm’s to jump off of.” Gil just squeezed your shoulder before moving his hand gently to the scruff of your neck, ushering you towards the door so you could get to the crime scene. “I’ll see if he wants to go to that nice place off 16th. But I can’t promise anything.”

You stopped again before getting into the front seat of Gil’s car. Looking at him over the roof, you were a bit nervous now about meeting up with your brother.

“Are you sure he actually wants to try to make up?”

Gil nodded his head side to side with a slight frown, as if he was weighing options in his head.

“I would say 85, maybe 90%.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Hey! I’m learning this all from you! I’ll have to use that line next time someone says 100.”

Gil smiled as he leaned down into the driver's seat, you followed and soon you were on your way to catch another monster.

~~~~~~

Tag List - @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan @malindacath @shadowfoxey

#gil arroyo x reader #Father!Gil Arroyo x reader #Malcolm Bright x Sibling!Reader #gil arroyo fic #gil arroyo imagine #Malcolm bright x Whitly!Reader #Malcolm Whitly x Whitly!Reader #Sibling!Malcolm Bright x Reader #Gil Arroyo Fanfic #prodigal son fandom #prodigal son fanfic #malcolm bright x reader

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zachvillasource · 4 years

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Remember when celebrities had to have an actual talent to earn their fame? When they had to be able to sing, dance, or act — sometimes all three at once? There doesn’t seem to be too many multi-talented celebrities anymore. That’s why when Zach Villa enters the room, the energy completely shifts. He is so talented, you won’t be sure what hit you. This energy may initially be attributed to his neon hair— but that’s not the reason his presence is so arresting. Want him to dance? Sure. Want him to sing? Ok. Want him to do a monologue? He’ll likely ask you which one you want to hear. Villa is a genuine triple threat in a sea of reality TV stars and wannabe Instagram influencers.

Most recently, Villa appeared on American Horror Story: 1984, portraying a disturbingly hot version of real-life serial killer Richard Ramirez, which has garnered him acclaim. But contrary to people thinking he just popped up out of nowhere, he’s actually been performing for a very long time. How did Zach Villa go from zero to 100 in triple threat domination? [more under the read more]

Villa has a pretty significant background in musical theatre, which comes as a surprise considering he mostly plays dark characters on TV and currently fronts the emo punk band, Sorry Kyle. Musicals and tap dancing are the antithesis of his roles as a performer now, but it all began by him playing a gargoyle on stage in a community theatre production. “I couldn’t remember my two lines to save my life. Give me a break, I was a child!” Community theatre subsequently became a big part of his life. “There were so many dance performances to choose from and my mom probably has some adorable (embarrassing) footage of those times… I played Dallas in The Outsiders my last year in public school. That was a turning point when I realized that there must be more training involved in acting…” And training Villa got, at one of the most prestigious institutions in the world—Julliard. And no… it wasn’t just like the ’90s classic, Save the Last Dance, and probably not the kind of training one imagines will prepare an actor to become a serial killer on American Horror Story—but, indeed, it did prepare Villa. “You learn just as much from a good experience as you do a bad experience,” Villa reflects of his time at Julliard. “And that made me strong and skilled, and I am grateful. Also, it’s a conservatory, so there was no way I was going to convince the program to let me take a dance class with Julia down the hall with my course-load… but trust me, I tried.” Though currently Villa spends a lot of his time doing various TV shows like NCIS :LA, Fox’s Bordertown, Honeyglue, and Cardboard Boxer, he also still continues to perform locally in various Los Angeles venues, including having made a guest appearance as the Sexy Oogie Boogie in a Halloween show last October. So which type of performance does Zach Villa like most? “Each provides a different kind of high. There is nothing like hundreds or thousands of people screaming at you while you rip a solo, or the breath being collectively held in a theater as you say the climactic line reveal — but in all performative mediums you are manipulating space and time. As performing artists that is what we do. But in theater or on stage with a band you have a very different set of parameters and violence with which you can paint the picture that you are making for the audience. So basically, I’m greedy. I really like to ‘paint’— and performing in all of these mediums lets me do it in a variety of ways. And at the end of the day, they all feed each other. I act like I do because I dance, because I sing, because I understand rhythm, because I understand melody, because I understand energy and inflection… you get the idea.”In Ryan Murphy’s American Horror Story: 1984 series last year, though you won’t see his character busting out a tap solo, there’s no question that Villa’s extensive background and training helped him to win over fans with his portrayal of Ramirez. “A ton of research went in to it — and then at some point you just have to sail the ship with what you know and riff on it like jazz and make your own original thing. One of my favorite parts as the show developed included finding opportunities to show some humor with this character, who I’m sure for most audience members represented chaotic evil. And learning how to levitate for the role. That was pretty cool… I enjoyed the role of Richard Ramirez less because he was a murderer and more because he was a complex psychological case. Trying to find empathy in that mess was so satisfyingly challenging to me. I think any character that has a wild or complex life — someone that we don’t societally see as being relatable or simple — those characters are interesting to me.” When considering his so-called overnight success, Villa asserts that Lizzo may have said it best: “8 years of touring, giving out free tix to my undersold shows, sleepless nights in my car, losing my dad & giving up on music, playing shows for free beer & food w/ -32$ in my bank account, constantly writing songs, hearing ‘no’ but always saying ‘yes.’ Glad I never gave up. This is what ‘overnight success’ looks like.” Villa adds, “I mean, how do I improve on that explanation? Art is a lifestyle, a developing, ongoing relationship you build with yourself, and like any career there is a grind to get that payoff. I think that through the grind, you come to appreciate what you have when you get it. And some people never get it. I’m very grateful. That being said, I know my gifts and have been shining the light, and I am glad that I have some company nowadays.”In addition to his ongoing acting roles, Villa is increasingly focused on music projects — his aforementioned emo punk band, Sorry Kyle, and a solo project that showcases his darker side. His latest single, “Revolver,” is a mashup of hip hop, Trent Reznor-esque industrial rock, and melodic spoken word. On the other hand, Sorry Kyle is a dream come true for anyone who loves Jimmy Eat World and Green Day. “’I am large, and I contain multitudes.’ Someone brilliant said that and I agree with them. The current projects are fairly representative of some main tenets that are current for me. Sorry Kyle with pop punk and emo vs. my solo project that is darker, moodier and more complex. But does it encapsulate everything? Heck no. Let’s circle back in 40 years or so when I’ve pushed out a few more records.”Villa teases that new music is on the horizon. “I am releasing a ton…records for Sorry Kyle and my solo project respectively, and maybe a couple other surprises. I just want to keep that flowing. I hope to be back for AHS again. Going to make more tap dance videos. Get my pilot’s license and ride my motorcycle a lot more. It’s a very exciting time and this is just the beginning…I’d also love to play an action spy/hero, or a political figure of intrigue. Give me a curveball, I’ll hit it.”

#zach villa #ahs cast #ahs 1984 #zvs:article #zvs:interview #*

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momestuck · 5 years

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Epilogues: Meat ch 9-13 [Epilogue 2]

We have set the stage for the Masterpiece. Now the Masterpiece itself. For reference to the original work, it begins here.

Chapter 9

We are informed that Caliborn may have taken some creative liberties. In pretty much as many words. Nevertheless, from John’s perspective, it is indeed true that Caliborn traps him and the three other beta kids in the house juju - for ‘quadrillions of years’, ‘from the outside perspective’.

Chapter 10

Jane POV chapter. She gets the news that she’ll be running against Karkat. She’s not terribly happy.

She also keeps thinking in really eugenic ways like ‘stock’, and correcting herself on the level of words and not like, actual principle lol.

We learn a little more about Dave’s politics: he’s against “neoliberal austerity measures”, whose phrasing suggests like, either a Keynesian or a socdem type approach...

Anyway, to ensure her victory, and make sure a troll couldn’t preside over the first generation of troll reproduction (no that’s not my gloss, she actually goes and says that in the narration!), Jane calls up Jake to try and win over his endorsement.

She certainly doesn’t have any sudden desire to fuck him in this timeline.

Chapter 11

John was apparently not aware of the whole ‘house juju’ plan, because he’s moping about being trapped in it.

The beta kids can at least talk to each other through the walls of the house, but it’s hard to hear. They can also hear the battle taking place outside - apparently in real time.

John can’t really talk to them very easily, so he starts thinking about, what else, his own massive depression. Hey, been there. Terezi, he reckons, would have helped - pushed him to live a bit.

Chapter 12

Oh hell yes it’s time for Dave to monologue about economics.

Basically Dave’s a classic socdem, and he sees what Jane’s aiming for as an appeal to ‘supply-side economics’ favouring tax cuts which, it’s alleged, create economic growth.

He points to their own inadequacy to the task, and continues to hero-worship Obama:

DAVE: which is fine i mean you cant really expect a bunch of teens who didnt finish middle school to set up a sustainable form of social democracy that isnt just blatantly ripped off whatever we incorrectly thought obama god rest his soul was doing back in the day

That’s certainly a take...

Anyway Dave says they’ve merely been ‘playacting capitalism’ the last five thousand years, but he anticipates Jane will try to restrict the use of grist alchemy to stimulate ‘growth’ - a move which Dave anticipates would lead immediately to a communist movement, or possibly a clown dictatorship.

In an echo of her role in ‘Candy’, Jade inserts a sexual innuendo to Karkat’s massive discomfort, but Dave manages to blow it off before it can get too awkward.

Jade wants to get them together just as much in this timeline. But she instead tells them about the Laffer curve, which you’d think Dave would know about given his whole presentation, but the narration treats as a foreign concept to him.

Quick summary: the Laffer curve is a fancy name for the relationship between tax rate and government revenue. Set the tax rate to zero, you obviously get no taxes; set the tax rate to 100%, and nobody has any money after the first year of taxation, so there’s no economic activity and the revenue thereafter is once again zero. By a theorem calculus, if we assume the relation between tax rate and revenue makes a continuous curve, there must be a value in between these two extremes which maximises government revenue. So far so good... only economists can’t agree on what the actual Laffer curve looks like, or where exactly this peak might be. Reagan justified his program of tax cuts by claiming that the US was on the right hand side of the Laffer curve, so reducing taxes would increase government revenue.

tl;dr: Jane == Reagan, economically, got it?

Anyway we’re not really here for economics, we’re here for... shipping. This time, instead of weird sexually-assaulty boundary-pushing moves to jujitsu them into admitting feelings, Jade just... straight up talks about it.

Karkat is not prepared for this conversation, oh no... we get quadrants, god tier bullshit, it’s exactly as chaotic as a conversation about relationships with the people who invented the penis ouija should be.

But despite the heavy davekat teasing... not yet.

Chapter 13

And now we’re “the true hero of this tale” - Vriska, who appears to have taken over the narration. Back to second person again.

This is Vriska on maximum arrogance - proud of all the people she hurt, including her alternate self. Unfortunately she gets caught in the head by a sharp piece of spacetime.

Head wounds are serious business. Call an ambula -- ah. Well. I asked my girlfriend, who knows more about first aid than me, what to do when you have a head injury, there are no hospitals or ambulances because you’re fighting Lord English in paradox space and there’s a giant black hole. She said it would be very hard to diagnose the severity of a head injury on Vriska because the diagnostic criteria ask whether they’re acting like a DICChead, but then we established there would also be considerable danger to the first aider from the giant black hole, reality collapsing, and Lord English, and as such they should make these safe before attempting first aid.

Vriska gets pulled into the giant black hole - which we now know will dump her in the ‘non-canon’ universe of the Candy story.

That’s the end of Epilogue 2. Phew.

Epilogue 2, in summary

I expected the Lord English confrontation. Candy had informed us that Vriska would be forced to leave the battlefield early.

I did not expect the extensive discussion of taxation rates.

Homestuck!

#momestuck

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colorofmymindposts · 5 years

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Hope for the Stars

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairings: Twelfth Doctor/Missy

Warnings: Major Character Death, Alternate Ending to series 10, Major Canon Divergence, Description of a Corpse

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Status: Complete but part three of my The Doctor Falls series. Reading part one is pretty optional but I definitely recommend checking out part two before reading this.

Word Count: 2134

Chapter: 1/2.

Summary: A final goodbye between the oldest friends in the universe seems as though it's the last chapter. But with the Doctor, every end comes with a beginning.

Tags: Heavy Angst, Messy Feelings, Coping with Death, Funeral, Grieving Missy, Twelve is very dead

I don’t know if the tagging system is still messed up, but you can read this work on ao3 under my username colorofmymind! Kudos and comments will be much appreciated!

The silence is deafening, save for the intermittent low hums of the TARDIS. Her hands drift and glide over the console as she circles round it, making no effort to start for any destination. A destination would require a plan. Missy has none.

What was the original plan, exactly? Redeem herself in everyone’s eyes, and then? No more tentative friendship. Renew their pact. Midnight, with the stars and him. It had been absolutely too vague, almost totally meaningless. And yet it was something. Now, there is nothing, no friend, without hope, without witness.

“Without reward, indeed,” Missy chokes out, voice hoarse from disuse and grief, realizing now she never precisely knew what that meant until this moment. Her death at least would have allowed her to escape from the shallow, crude reality of it all. Missy makes the mistake of looking down at the Doctor’s lifeless body. The sight alone is enough for her hands to tremor, knees to buckle, eyes to water and weep openly, now that the privacy allows for it. It takes much more time than she’d like to find the lapels of his jacket, fisting them in her hands for purchase. It doesn’t do much other than prevent her from strangling him, or herself.

“You absolute imbecile!” she cries out, venom behind each word. “I would have stayed here, the Vault, anywhere you would have liked for the rest of those thousand years! Two thousand even. You’d be there at least. You’d be alive.

But we were always so impatient, weren’t we? We couldn’t keep to the confines of Gallifrey or the Vault. We just wanted the universe. I wanted you.” Those last three words fall out her mouth without her permission, and she knows full well what she communicated with them. The humans always wait, desperate for that confession, that one word: love. There isn’t even a comparable translation for it in Gallifreyan; what is the need of such a word to Time Lords? Time Lords are supposed to have two hearts that are full of nothing.

She wants to rip her hearts right out of her chest, stamp them into mincemeat under her boots, and wail with the confidence and indignity of a newborn babe until she keels over. Or maybe she could cut her hearts out, carefully, scientifically, and transplant them into the Doctor, make him breathe, live again; he could cry over her body, but at least that’d be familiar for the both of them.

Death is for other people, dear. Missy said that, once. She never dreamt that the Doctor would number among the others.

The grip she has on him slackens. With complete gracelessness and depravity, Missy collapses on top of him, her chest on his, face burying into the crook of his neck. The endless propulsion of loss and guilt wracks her body; the tears flow out as quickly as the notes to Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor K. 466 - 1. Allegro, one of the Doctor’s favorites that she used to play on the piano. The piano he gifted to her. Missy cannot form words even if she tries. So heavy is this sense of finality, and she’s drowning under it. Her friend is dead. Time levels and undulates and then ceases to be around them, and all Missy is aware of is the uncontrollable shaking and the gasping and crying like she’s being gutted from the inside out for existing at all and the fact that he’s gone, gone, gone forever and she’s the only one left...

It’s some time later that Missy finally awakens next to the Doctor, colder than he’s ever been. It’s not really him, she reminds herself. His essence, the playful and wonderful mind, they’re gone. Could she reclaim them, she would. She should, really. It’s the least she can do when this whole monumentally stupid test to prove herself was the very reason they had found themselves in that disaster, created by her former self, no less. Resurrection has its risks though, this she knows. The potential for a miscalculation or chemical imbalance is extremely high, and his entire body could irrevocably malform; of course the safer alternative, transferring the consciousness into a living host, is something the Doctor would have never even entertained whereas the Master had, ever so frequently when in a tight spot, regrettable now in retrospect.

The stinging pain in her back and abdomen from the Laser Screwdriver has lessened slightly with her rest, but her eyes feel terribly sore and dry from what was probably the greatest lapse into emotional breakdown of her life. There are no more tears to cry, now. Missy picks herself up, squeezing the Doctor’s hand before standing only to find it has become extremely stiff with the onset of rigor mortis. The realization leaves her nauseous and quite wishing she hadn’t done that.

That does bring up the present dilemma. What to do with his body. A Time Lord’s body, particularly the DNA, would be a precious asset to almost any alien species. Burial and cryogenic freezing are right out then. The Doctor will have to burn.

Somehow, she still manages to hobble over to the TARDIS console with that thought on her mind, pulling on the levers and buttons by mere muscle memory. Already, Missy has the perfect idea for the location for the Doctor’s funeral, a strange thing to be sentimental about, but if he were still part of the universe, she thinks he would appreciate it.

“I’m almost certain you never prepared for this, my dear,” Missy begins, completely aware that the Doctor can no longer hear or respond to her. “I’m not talking about death, no, you practically begged for it when you were feeling particularly morose. What comes after is what I mean. Did you really think you could lie on a battlefield and that just be the end? It should take no more than a few centuries for a human exploratory crew or some other ship to find you with all your DNA and unleash terror on the universe. That just won’t do, not when you’ve put so much work into the place.”

The whole monologue was meant to calm her down, but she’s made an all too rational point. This is a universe without the Doctor, and it has been such a very long time since that was the reality. What will happen now, without that man roaming the stars, trying to bring kindness and goodness to the places and people he visits? As flawed as he could be while doing it, a small voice inside her offers.

“Because one day everyone's just going to need you too much.” Bill was right. The universe will never survive without the Doctor.

The TARDIS hums somewhat admonishingly, and suddenly the psychic link is made between her and the ship, and a flurry of images and memories are the sole occupiers of her thoughts: the TARDIS landing unannounced and needing help for some unknown reason, Missy’s constant maintenance of the TARDIS, Missy trying to find a way out of the TARDIS doors to help the Doctor and his companions when he was about to sacrifice himself to the Cairn gate, and the moment she stepped out of those same doors declaring confidently “Hello I’m Doctor Who.”

Oh. Oh.

Missy smiles and tuts quietly at the now reicent sentient machine. Being, she corrects herself mentally. After, she and this Type 40 are going to have to get along if this is to work.

“You knew well before any of us, didn’t you? Oh, you clever girl,” she purrs.

The ship creaks and groans upon arriving to their destination. In all fairness, this is the most hectic point in time and space besides the literal end of the universe, and Missy’s been there before. Placing the stabilizers on as a precaution, Missy retreats down one of the corridors, hoping she’ll find what she’s looking for.

“Ah, there you are,” she says upon finding it. The casket’s exterior shines just as brightly as the wood from whence it came: the silver trees of Gallifrey. Adorning the side panels are the traditional Gallifreyan rites for the deceased. Measurements in this case are not necessary; Time Lord technology has once again thought ahead to accomodate for any particular regeneration--the dimensions are bigger on the inside. It’s a difficult task for someone of her stature and injured status to not drag the damned thing on the console flooring, but she manages it for the Doctor’s sake alone.

Upon placing the casket next to him, however, she cannot seem to find the strength in the moment to lift him into it and send him away for good. A hand of hers secures itself on one of the handles on the console to ascertain that she does not collapse again.

“Well, this is it then. Me, Missy, your oldest friend, assisting you with your death. Goodbye, effectively for the two of us. What am I even saying,” she finishes under her breath, beginning the process of lifting the Doctor’s body into the casket. For appearances’ sake, she brushes off the lingering dust and debris off his coat and trousers and face, though it won’t matter for much longer. No one else besides her will be viewing him, and he’ll be crisper in just a few minutes than she ever was back in the old days. From underneath the console, Missy locates four hover discs, placing one at each end of the casket to ensure his departure is as seamless as possible. For some inexplicable reason, she is unable to close the casket lid. There is something she must say first.

“We made a pact once, you and I. We were going to see the stars together and abandon all the trivial troubles of Gallifrey. But something went wrong in the plans. We went on separate paths. Well, you went on your own path, and I followed you. I followed you everywhere I could,” Missy confesses, tangling her fingers in her Doctor’s curls. “In some ways, I wish...I wish I hadn’t woken up from that shot, the one I should have died from. We both could have been dead martyrs together. Wouldn’t that have been nice? But I understand now why I couldn’t...join you. I never got the chance to, did I?” Her voice escapes her for several moments, and she blinks away the forthcoming tears she previously didn’t know she still had.

“Standing with you...was all I ever wanted, too. Thank you, Doctor, for trying. It worked. I am standing for something now, after this and evermore, and I’m sure it will kill me someday, for good.” Missy pauses to collect herself. If she’s giving him a closing testimony she’s making sure it’s a damn good one.

“This is the last chance you have to announce you’ve miraculously survived before I send you off into Dante’s Inferno, just so you know.” The silence that follows is answer enough to her request.

“It actually isn’t Dante’s Inferno. That place isn’t real. You wanted the stars, so I brought you to them. Every single one.”

In a few quick steps, Missy is able to pull the doors open, revealing that they have indeed reached the intended destination. Gas clouds are just beginning to circulate and weave their ways, nebulas are brewing stars within their wombs, and galaxies expand their territory among the vast devoidness of empty space. The constellation of Kasterborous is just a few hundred million light-years away from forming.

“It isn’t the moment, not the singularity that started it all. Although, it’s reasonable enough to presume you’ve already been there. We’ve entered the structure formation period of the Big Bang, when stars began existing,” she explains.

“No star ever existed before this point or would be able to exist without this moment. Your casket will fly into one of those stars and burn with its light and passion, and your atoms be dispersed all around the universe and help bring life to all of creation. I think without a doubt this is the best surprise party I’ve ever thrown for you,” Missy claims, placing her hands on her hips with a certain sense of self-satisfaction in this truly bizarre and dizzying ceremony.

The casket hovers just by the TARDIS doors. All she has to do is guide it out, and discs will direct it over to that red dwarf star, his final resting place. With a certain solemnity and poise Missy has never reserved for anyone in her lives, she seals the casket shut.

In a whisper, hushed so only the infant forces of the universe behind the two of them can hear, she gives the Doctor her final farewell.

“Goodnight, my dear friend.”

#my writing #fanfiction #twissy #thoschei #space spouses #best enemies #missy #the master #gomez!master #twelfth doctor #the doctor #doctor who

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rhainontheshelves · 7 years

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Musical Theatre!Rocky

A/N: Please forgive me please!! You have a long-ass bullet scenario ahead of you if you choose to proceed because yo girl doesn't know how to condense rip This is dedicated to an awesome friend, @sanhatation! The feelings might be long past but I promised to write this for you. A short part 2 will be coming to describe the life under the stage lights. Happy Reading! - Rhin

Rocky originally wanted to go to school for dance

Why wouldn't he? He knows he's stellar

But, he also wanted to sing

Unfortunately, it wouldn't be possible for him to get a minor in vocal

Dance takes a lot of effort and practice hours

So he worried and thought about it a lot over his senior year of high school

One day, Sanha approached him with a poster

It was advertising auditions for the school spring play

Immediately, Rocky was interested; acting had always piqued his curiosity but he had never gotten a chance to try it

He accepted the offer

Cue many practice meets with Sanha (who was auditioning as well) to memorize the monologue required

He memorized it quickly, just like any step or note

Pretty soon he made it his own, reciting with sincerity and little hand motions

At one point Sanha wondered if it was even worth it to audition anymore because Rocky was killing it

Come audition day

The director and the people helping him judge were very impressed with this young man they only saw passing the theater to go to the practice rooms

By the end Rocky was virtually guaranteed a spot in the production

He walked out of there the proudest boy alive but also as the most internally dying and relieved it was over with

Because he will never admit it but the audition really stressed him out and he worried over miniscule details

About three days later the director approached Rocky

He wanted to talk about the role he was thinking of assigning to the boy

It was an important part, however it wasn't the lead

"It's your first time." Was the director's reason

This disappointed Rocky a bit but the director had come with a plan in mind

Rocky would also be assigned as the understudy for the lead

The director had some suspicions about the boy casted as the lead's loyalty to the show, so if he did leave Rocky would get the role he really deserved

This pleased both parties and the next day the cast list was posted

A month later, practices were in full swing after school

Rocky was well on his way to getting his part down word-perfect and memorizing the lead's lines

He liked the cast and had made some new friends

The vibe in this group was carefree and fun while still hard-working

That's Rocky in a nutshell so he fit in quite nicely

The only thing that he didn't like was the inactivity

There were plenty of stage directions, sure

places he needed to be and actions that needed to be carried out

but where was the variety?

he thought back to when he was a tot and his grandparents took him to a show

There was dancing and excitement and singing and emotion throughout the whole thing

he wondered what had changed since then

turns out nothing had

he was just in the wrong year

"We switch between musicals and plays every other year," giggled Doyeon, the girl who was casted as the female lead

"You just came a year too late. I'm sure you'll have a chance to do one sometime in the future."

Rocky sure hoped so

First show night couldn't have come fast enough

There were still parts that needed more work, which is normal in any production

But the director felt that this was the most prepared that any of his recent shows had been

certainly not because of how hard some had wanted work to catch up and surpass Rocky

The show went amazingly well but there are always the oopses

aka a couple of props falling apart in the user's hands

Improvisation is a wonderful thing

It seemed like bows came too soon

Rocky stood up at the front of the stage with the rest of the cast, smiling and waving a bit after their final bow

His heart was soaring

The only thing that compared was when he finished performing one of his own choreographed dances and he got a standing ovation

That's when he realized that this was what he wanted to with his life

Fast forward to the last part of 2nd quarter, freshman year of college

He had just finished his homework for a history class and headed down to the theater department to grab audition material for the spring musical

Gotta start early

He gets outside the professor's office and sees someone else is in there

So he hangs around and waits, because he can be patient

He ends up dancing for like ten minutes, waiting, because this meeting is taking a really long time??

The door finally opens and a really happy girl exits

Rocky swears that the hallway gets a bit brighter

She turns around to thank the professor one last time but sees Rocky and almost has a heart attack

She totally didn't notice him there

Now flustered, she rushes away without giving Rocky a chance to see if she was okay

Slightly confused, Rocky just watches her go

The professor is in the exact same boat Rocky is

So they let it go and have a small talk about what the auditions require

For the rest of the quarter Rocky sees the girl in a lot of his classes and comes to the conclusion that she has the same major he does

However, before he gets the chance to approach her Christmas Break rolls around and he's off on the road back home

3 weeks, one memorized song and dance routine later, 2nd semester starts

Musical auditions are at the end of the first week back

and that first week couldn't have seemed slower

Lectures stretched on forever and homework seemed to take twice as long as it usually did

Finally, the last class on Friday was dismissed and Rocky was out of there like lightning

his class ended about halfway through the audition hours r.i.p

He ran as fast as his dancer legs would carry him over to the auditorium

Luckily the line is semi-long so he has time to catch his breath

The line shortens to about half the length it was when another person sprints in

The thudding of tennis shoes makes Rocky look up from the sample script

lo and behold the girl that ran away that one day is bent over a couple of feet away from him

"Are auditions over?" she asks fearfully

"No, I'm the end of the line" he replies

"Okay, good" she comes over to stand next to him in line

Rocky wonders if she recognizes him

she barely got five seconds in before she dashed away so he figures probably not

silence settles

until she curses

"I forgot my music in my room" she hisses to herself, smacking her head

Rocky's mouth runs before she can

"You can borrow mine, I have it memorized anyway"

she stares at him in surprise

"Really?"

"Yeah, here"

"Thank you so much!" Her gloomy mood brightens and Rocky's world does too

"No problem"

By this time the next person is called, and Rocky is torn away from a perfect opportunity to talk to her.... again

The audition goes by fast as always

Rocky stays for the girl's audition

Now or never am i right

She does a great job

Dancing needs a bit of work but that comes with practice

He's still standing in the doorway when she comes up the aisle

she gives him a "why are you still here" look but quickly replaces it with a smile

"You did awesome!" she compliments

"Same to you," Rocky nods

"Nah, I was just average... Thanks again for letting me use your music, uh... what's your name?"

"Minhyuk, but you can call me Rocky if you want to."

Cue the Zelda "object acquired" music because a new friend has just been made: (Y/N)

Rocky walked (Y/N) back to her dorm and got to know her a bit

She indeed has the same major as him

Her dream was to be on Broadway someday

but she's going through a slump rn so things aren't going so hot

Rocky understands; that happened with him and dancing around 7th grade

He promises himself that he'll check up on her and make sure everything's going okay

so he acquires her number before she takes the stairs up to her floor

and proceeds to do just that over the rest of the semester

checking up becomes full-blown conversations complete with memes

and they became best friends

they both got into the production that year

which made them even closer ofc

Summer Break rolls around and (Y/N) and Rocky swear to not let distance separate them

it doesn't

and this friendship continues until Junior year....

when (Y/N) drops out

her parents can't continue to support her financially and she doesn't have enough to support herself

Rocky, of course, is devastated

Where will (Y/N) go? Will she be safe? What about her dream??

He dies inside while helping her move her stuff out of the dorms and into her car

He goes back to cry in his room when her car is finally out of sight

The rest of the day is spent reflecting on every single memory

especially the one where she finally remembered that he scared her that one day Freshman year

"That was yOU??????"

and Rocky realizes that his world is no longer as bright

they continue to message each other

but it teeters out after a few months bc (Y/N)'s working two jobs to pay off her debt

soon Rocky has lost all contact with his former best friend, although he never forgets her

Fast forward a few more years

Now Rocky's graduated with a Bachelors' in the Performing Arts

He just auditioned for a role in Newsies

It fits his skill set perfectly

Acrobatics?? Yas

He's feeling pretty confident until he steps out of the building and someone runs smack-dab into him

He's dazed for a bit but when he asks the person if they're okay, his brain goes on over drive

(Y/N)'s there staring back at him in shock, an audition packet in hand

Rocky grins and immediately encases (Y/N) in a hug, questions falling out of his mouth at a million miles an hour

All (Y/N) does is hug him back at first, but Rocky notices her hesitation so he lets go

"I'm so sorry, it's just been a long time and I've been worried? How are you?"

(Y/N) finally smiles and replies, "I'm just fine now."

the two catch up while (Y/N) waits in line for the female auditions

(Y/N) was on vacation and she overheard someone mention auditions

she had never forgotten her dream

and a small little voice told her that something good would happen there

now she knew what the good thing was

*nervous and awkward blushing from both parties*

(Y/N) was called in before she could say anything else, so Rocky waited for her outside

fifteen minutes later she comes out smiling

She has a really good feeling about it

About three hours later

(Y/ N) has to go back to her hotel so she can pack and catch her flight

Rocky is determined to never lose (Y/ N) again

Bc he realized over lunch with her that his world was bright again and he never wants that to end

So he walks her to the airport, insisting that he see her off

(Y/ N) pretends to mind, but she really doesn't

She really missed Rocky the second she got into her car Junior year

The exchange of cell phone numbers happens once again at the terminal

It takes Rocky a couple of minutes more to enter his new number into (Y/N)'s phone

When (Y/N) looks at his contact, she blushes

it reads: Minhyukkie 😘

it doesn't seem special, but it is bc Rocky was insistent that only his girlfriend could call him that

(Y/N) makes a mental note to ask him about it the next time she sees him

fast forward one last time to the phone call

(Y/N) and Rocky were both super excited when Rocky picked up his phone

They had just gotten phone calls saying that they had been accepted into the production

Their first reaction was to call each other

In fact Rocky was just about to hit the call button when (Y/ N)'s contact popped up

The first five minutes was just screaming tbh

Eventually proper congratulations were exchanged

But it got lost in all the excitement

They would see each other for the rest of their Newsies career

And that was possibly the best thing ever

#unfortunately this isn't very accurate to real life #I was already too far in when the info was released #Any way I hope you had fun at camp Riley!#remember the anon with a lot of questions?#yeah that was me #Bullet scenario #Rocky scenario #Astro Scenario #almost my brainchild #Rewrite (para)

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inkling-hero · 7 years

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Monoku Monologues, #001: Life and death

You may be wondering those of you watching or reading or however this event was recorded what unholy grandfather of all evil surrounding my area and body is and why i'm bleeding to death preparing the mother of all finishing moves, well I’ll start with this, my name is Riptide J. Monoku and i'm a hero born with a curse destined for something greater than myself. That living nightmare and physical form of malice and chaos before me eating away at my world and everything I’ve ever worked for is Luxxar, the embodiment of evil itself. I was born to kill him, created by fate to save all life as existence itself was crumbling to nothing, everything that has and ever will be rested in my hands as my tears blurred my vision.

I had one final trick up my sleeve to save everyone, as the chaos and malice of Luxxars true demonic form swirled around my area and body, the fate of the whole world no the fate of all life rested on my being, I knew that to win this final fight I had to make the ultimate sacrifice and break my promise...to him. I gave it one final push and looked at the embodiment of hatred and anger, "LUXXAR!" I shouted my right fist and arm being enveloped in ink, fire, ice and electricity, the last of my armor being destroyed by the increasing wind pressure from my body expelling it by flexing. "YOU HAVE TAINTED EXISTENCE WITH YOUR VERY BEING AND I RIPTIDE JUPITER MONOKU WILL BRING AN END TO THE SUFFERING YOU HAVE CAUSED ALL LIFE BY TAKING YOURS!" I screamed my scars glowing their brightest with my fiery red and white aura enveloping my own body. I could feel the hopes and dreams of all my friends, every one that I’ve ever encountered cheering me on praying for my safety as I jumped and said my final words to expel the world ending demon lord. "TRUE" my eyes were as full of water as a river my body and will power giving it beyond 100% "INKFERNITE" the memory of my father telling me that I was destined for something grand washed into my mind as i said my final word "PUNCH!" I gave it 1000% of my max might letting the world see what a hero had to do to save the world but i'm getting too far ahead of myself, and yes I know what a dick move to just end that amazing visual, I gamble that you’re on the edge of whatever you’re sitting on just dying to know what happened as soon I landed that punch, you’ll learn about it soon enough, for now let's start from the beginning, my beginning as the greatest hero Inkopolis has ever known.

It all started a little over 18 years ago on May 7th, the day I was born along with my younger brother Fiery, I was born with a terminal illness, I had clear colorless tentacles and my eyes were as red as blood. The doctors did all they could to see if I could be corrected but nothing could fix me, my parents would have been devastated that is if they were normal inklings but they weren’t at all they knew from that day I had to be protected at all costs, for I had what my family calls ‘Makos blessing.’ I won’t get into the details what I will tell you guys however is how much time and effort was spent into ensuring my safety.

Now my dad King Cross Monoku was the leader of a small tribe hidden in the mountains far away from Inkopolis, and I know what you're thinking ‘sweet cod you're royalty!? You're a prince!? Why are you a fighter then!?’ to answer whomever asks yes, yes, and tone it down a bit i'll get to that soon enough. Now my father Cross, my mother Fiora and the rest of the village were always watching over me. It didn't matter if it was 3 am in the morning on the coldest day of winter, the royal guards; (who were very nice I might add) those guys and many others constantly took shifts making sure I couldn't get hurt. I was always feed food softer than memory foam. It took two hours at least to bathe me because and I quote my late mother “The sponge could scratch you and you can die.” I mean would that really kill me, probably not.

Fast forward to when I turned seven, my twin Fiery was already walking, running, speaking and dreaming of growing up in Inkopolis, he said that he’d one day be an elite inkling just like in the articles and stories he read every night. Hearing him dream so highly wanting to become a worthy turf war champion, it inspired me to help him achieve that goal no matter what the cost, even though deep down I knew I couldn’t help him with my illness. I was allowed to watch my brother however, train and practice turf battles, he wasn’t really good at it at first but it didn’t stop him from trying his best. I always cheered him on and it was pretty fun viewing his progress but a part of me felt hurt, because I knew I couldn’t ever get to experience that joy.

A month or so had passed since my twin started practicing his turf war skills and I endured yet another physical, still my condition was as bad as ever, I felt sorrow course through me, tears filling my vision. All I could do was pray for so that I too could one day lead a normal life like Fiery, fate however had something else in store for me. I was one day watching Fiery try to perform a backflip from my little protection bubble, my guards taking a quick tea break and the second the two of us were left alone, the second everything changed.

We both heard a monstrous cry and my brother Fiery was nearly stabbed by an odd black shadowy figure, had it not been for my guards that rushed in to save him, it was very mighty indeed shattering their weapons and taking their lives. It’s still a bit fuzzy in my mind but seeing that thing kill my guardians, my companions, the two people that had watched over me as a child when my parents could not, it infuriated me. That thing aimed for my brother next since it flew past me with a rapid lunge and I saw the terror and fear swell in his eyes, and that’s when it happened. It was like a flame had been ignited and jump started my body, I broke out of my bubble and clenched my fist tightly it felt hotter than the sun itself quickly turned around, facing its sharp fangs and claws and punched it dead on in its gut. For the first time in my life I knew what it meant to be strong to know rage and hatred, my fury didn’t end there, each punch that was thrown at that thing made it cry out in anguish. Fiery couldn’t believe the sight that I Riptide the most fragile inkling on earth, risked my life to save his. “MY BROTHER HAS A DREAM AND I’LL GO TO ANY LENGTHS TO MAKE SURE IT COME TRUE!” I roared with all my might, I clenched my fist tightly and ink surrounded it having a red and pink glow lash over it. I let that bastard thing have it directly smashing it in its face before it yelled in agony exploding into smoke and steam, my father barely rushing in to see me yell at the top of my lungs having its blood stain my ripped clothes and body.

Turns out it was a shadow beast my father claimed, very rare and dangerous, he was ecstatic to see his own son beat one to death, and as a child to no less…yeah not really a normal thing to be proud of heheh, but the point was that my body had suffered a few injuries I was bleeding, but alive, by the miracle of all miracles, I was alive, I had color all over my body, a nice shade of magenta mixed with red and pink. During the aftermath of the attack I immediately went to the doctors, after hours and hours of examination, it was concluded that my body was no longer vulnerable to any hits, I was finally free of the risk of losing my life to a simple toe stubbing on the coffee table, (yeesh what a way to go huh? Ohhh nooo my son died due to stubbing his toe, cod i’d never hear the end of it from the villagers beyond the grave.)

My father Cross and my mother Fiora, decided that I could train under their wing now, to be a hero to defend and protect those who can’t protect themselves. Years passed, both mind and body were sharped, heightened to a higher peak than I ever thought possible. I learned and excelled at using my family's Ink manipulation arts, I trained day and night having my own dreams now, to become the greatest hero in history and make my family proud. On that fateful day now 11 years ago, I created my dream, and that's how I started to become the greatest hero in Inkopolis.

Finally after so much preparation here it is, the first chapter of Monoku Monologues, learn how Riptide became the greatest hero of the city and quite possibly the world! Once a week or two I’ll be releasing a new chapter, so get ready to explore the inner workings and mind set of the great legend himself!

//BONUS: IF THIS GETS 5 NOTES BY TOMORROW MORNING ILL RELEASE THE SKETCH I MADE FOR RIPTIDE FACING OFF AGAINST LUXXAR//

#Riptide Monoku #Fiery Infakun #Monoku Monologues #Fic

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allofthisnonsenseplease · 7 years

Text

GabexJack modern AU meet-cute featuring bodymod!tattooartist!Gabe.

I hadn’t seen that done, and thought it might be a cool idea. =)

Gabriel had just finished putting up his inks and sterilizing his equipment when he heard the front door open. After years of extra shifts at secondary jobs, sacrifice, and saving up, he had finally managed to open his own shop, Death Blossom Tattoos. He still wasn't used to being the only one on shift, though, and this wouldn't be the first time he'd forgotten to lock up after his last client.

“We're closed,” he called.

“Hello...?”

The voice that called from the front was rough—pack-a-day smoker who gargles with gravel, rough—but hesitant. Feeling every second of the long, long day that he'd been on his feet, Gabriel stripped off his gloves and flung them into the trash, then stepped out to send the man on his way. He didn't anticipate that it would take long. Being just over six feet tall and built like a pro-wrestler alone sufficed to make most people think twice about crossing him, but Gabriel had taken that canvas and run with it. His curly hair was shaved on the sides, just long enough on top to spike into a mohawk when he felt like bothering, and tipped in red. Steel glinted against his dark skin from multiple piercings: left eyebrow, bridge, septum on the right, and a labret winking like a ruby in a patch of hair below his lips. His ears sported rings and studs from top to bottom in steel, jet, and candy apple red acrylic, and the lobes were stretched around inch-wide gauges. Dark, tattooed clouds of red-tinged nebulae seemed to issue from the gauges opening his cheeks and exposing his teeth. Malevolent red eyes stared out of the deepest black of the ink as it bled back into the stubble on his skull. His tongue was forked. His sclera had been tattooed black, although he had foregone the red contacts today.

He fixed a neutral expression on his face, and turned the corner to get a look at whoever it was that had wandered into his shop so late at night. The sight almost—almost—made him falter a moment.

The guy was hot. Tall as Gabriel and absolutely ripped, dressed in dark jeans and a tight black polo that contrasted deliciously against the creamy latte color of his lightly tanned skin. The shirt clung to his pecs, shaping them out of shadows and soft edges, leaving his trim waist less defined. His hair was too bright, bottle-blond over darker eyebrows. Freckles dusted his nose and flushed cheeks. His pale eyes were wide, lips parted as he stared.

Gabriel licked his lips reflexively, then frowned, hoping the gesture had gone unnoticed. He stepped up to the man, close enough to smell the alcohol reek of his breath.

“We're closed,” he repeated shortly.

“Oh,” the man said. Then: “Shit.” He goggled at Gabriel a moment longer, taking in the tattoos and piercings and visible mods with drunken intensity and a vaguely worried expression. “I went to Hell.” He said it with a fatalistic sort of acceptance that made it hard for Gabriel not to laugh.

He must have been very drunk. Gabriel watched as he looked over each shoulder and made a wobbling turn to check behind himself. All the while, he was absentmindedly patting himself down as if searching for the feel of lost keys in pockets. Or trying to make sure he was still in one piece. When he turned back to Gabriel, wavering but still managing to remain upright, he looked downright bewildered.

“Did that car actually hit me?”

“Wouldn't know about that. But I can tell you that you aren't in Hell.”

“I'm not?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I can also tell you that we're closed.”

“Um.” His gaze wandered uncertainly for a moment before returning to the general vicinity of Gabriel's face. “I'm lost.”

“Not my problem, Blondie.”

The man's shoulders sagged. His heavy brows drew in, his lips turned down at the corners, and he hung his head. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Gabriel felt like he'd kicked a puppy. Heaving a sigh, and hoping the drunk could take directions at least long enough to get lost someplace else, he asked: “Where are you trying to go?”

“Home.”

He waited a beat, just to see if a kernel of common sense might take root in the man's head. When it didn't, Gabriel crossed his arms and scowled. “If you want directions, then you have to tell me where you live.”

“In...an apartment complex. I just moved here. My name's Jack.”

He was staring at Gabriel's crossed arms, eyes wide. They were an unusual washed-out shade of blue, like pale sea glass. Gabriel pictured wave tattoos for him, a sleeve in the Japanese style, spotted with white camellias. Maybe with a fish, seeing as he apparently drank like one.

“You have....” Jack gestured unsteadily at Gabriel's arms, then looked up to meet his eyes once more. “There're...faces,” he said. “In your hands.”

“Subdermal implants,” Gabriel said by way of explanation. Uncrossing his arms, he held up one of his hands for Jack to take a closer look at the glowering, skull-like owl face rising up just beneath his skin.

He wasn't quite prepared, although maybe he should have been, for Jack to take his hand in both of his and hold it close to his face. Jack's hands were warm, fingers pleasantly rough with calluses, and his breath tickled over Gabriel's skin. He shifted his grip, one hand holding Gabriel's, the other moving to stroke hesitantly over the implant. His fingertips skated erratically over it, dipping clumsily into the recesses of the eyes. Jack looked up at him suddenly, eyes fever-bright in his flushed face.

“What's your name?”

“Gabriel.” He jerked his hand back more roughly than he needed to. “What apartment complex do you live in?”

“The one near the park.”

There were three parks in the city, all with several apartment complexes within a block or two. “That narrows it down to a couple dozen. Try again.”

“Over...Overlook?”

“Overwatch Apartments?” Gabriel asked, thinking: No, it couldn't be.

Jack lit up. “Yes! How do I get there?”

Small world. With a sigh, Gabriel waved him to the bench against the side wall. “Sit down. You live in the same complex as me. I'll take you there once I'm done closing up.” While Jack got settled, Gabriel took a moment to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge behind the desk. “Here. Drink this. I think you need it.”

Jack took the bottle, staring first at it, then up at Gabriel. “You're not s'posed to drink the water in Hell. You get stuck there.”

Leaning down to look Jack in the eye, Gabriel reminded him, enunciating carefully: “You are not in Hell, Jack.”

“Oh. Okay.” He paused, water probably all but forgotten, and lifted a finger to point at Gabriel's face. “Your eyes are...kinda...black.”

“Tattoos.”

“Oh. Cool.”

It didn't take long to finish straightening up and close out the register. Gabriel locked the day's take in the safe, leaving the deposit for his future self to deal with. He herded Jack out the door, locked up, and led him down to the bus stop. Any thoughts he'd had about babysitting Jack being nothing but a pain flew out of his head when the bus pulled up and Jack lurched in front of him to get on first. Jack stood between him and the bus driver, a man who was neither unfamiliar with Gabriel nor drunk, and proceeded to reassure the driver that Gabriel was not, in fact, a devil, but was his friend and a very nice man. The driver shot Gabriel a look over Jack's shoulder. Gabriel was too busy shaking with repressed laughter to respond.

They took their seats at the back of the bus, and Jack explained in a halting, wandering monologue about how his new coworkers had dragged him out for a party, then disappeared one by one until he was alone in a bar in a part of town he didn't recognize. Not a great thing to do to a guy, Gabriel thought, but Jack was an adult and should have been able to fend for himself. He was just lucky that the person he had asked directions from could take him home, rather than just sending him on his way alone.

Jack was doubly lucky, as it turned out. He could barely keep his eyes open, even as he finished explaining how he'd gotten into his predicament. Long before they had reached their stop, he was slouching against Gabriel, head resting on his shoulder. The warmth was nice, the contact pleasant. Gabriel let him doze, wondering if Jack's freckles spread like a star chart across the rest of his skin; if he already had tattoos, or if he was a blank canvas; if he might someday let Gabriel leave his own mark. He wondered what sort of design would suit Jack best.

Their stop was only a block away from the complex, but Jack was too muddled by alcohol and exhaustion to wake up fully. He followed groggily along in Gabriel's wake, responding to questions in grunts and brief nods or shakes of his head. In the stairwell, he dug his keys out of his pocket and let Gabriel sort through them for the one with his apartment number barely legible in scratched black sharpie. Jack lived on the same floor, several doors down. Very small world, indeed.

When Gabriel stopped in front of Jack's door, he had just enough time to get it unlocked and open before Jack stumbled into him from behind. The warmth and weight of his body didn't linger, but the feel of his hand did. Gabriel held still as Jack rubbed a hand up and down his spine, tracing the bumps of small, rounded spikes.

“More like your hands?” Jack murmured. He sounded far more alert after their march up the stairs.

“Got it in one.”

“Do you have more tattoos?” Both hands were resting on Gabriel's back now, firm against his shoulder blades.

“Of course.”

“Can I see?”

Gabriel let himself be pushed into the apartment, reaching out to flip the light switch as automatically as if he were in his own home. Jack slipped past him, emptying his pockets of phone, wallet, and spare change onto the coffee table. When Gabriel handed back his keys, they joined the pile as well.

Jack turned back to look at him, shadows under his sea glass eyes, expectation making his expression eager, almost hungry. The air between them felt charged, and Jack's drunken intensity sent a shiver running over Gabriel's skin. Lips twisted in a crooked smile, he tugged off his hoodie, then his tank top. He grinned to see the way Jack caught his lower lip between his teeth as he stared.

Most of Gabriel's body was covered in tattoos. His chest featured a massive one done in red and black, glistening with white highlights. The edges were cracked and burned skin, dry as desert rock, peeling away from the curved lines of ribs, the rounded lump of a heart. More of the nebula-edged darkness congealed around the edges, dripping from just beneath his collarbone. Eyes opened up in the depths, iris and pupils livid red against the black. His right arm was tattooed with slashes that puckered red around the edges, weeping more of the watching darkness and exposing musculature, tendons, ligaments, and bone. A black barn owl perched on his left arm, talons just above his elbow, head on the curve of his shoulder. Its face was ghostly white, its eyes deep blue and dotted with stars. Feathers fell the length of his forearm, mingling with graceful curls of smoke, and morphing into shell casings by they time they reached his wrist.

He turned to show off his back, the column of subdermal implants like spikes down his spine, the twin shotguns, heavy and black, that stretched nearly from the crest of his shoulders to the curve of his lower back. They breathed smoke that coiled up his neck, darkening against his skull to mingle with the clouds that wrapped around over his temples and cheeks.

Facing away, he didn't see Jack move, didn't hear him step closer. The first warning he had was a breath of moving air against his skin, and then the heat of Jack's palm was back, far warmer without the barrier of clothing between them. Jack stroked down his back, thumb ticking against the sides of the implants, fingertips lingering just over the waistband of Gabriel's jeans as he pulled his hand back.

Gabriel turned and Jack took another step in, entranced by the tattoos, by the shape and planes of Gabriel's body half hidden beneath the lines of the ink. He watched as Jack reached up, slow as a dreamer, to set his palms against the flesh of Gabriel's chest and drag his touch down over the swell of pecs, the toned muscles of his stomach. Gabriel's nipples and navel were pierced, as well as parts further south. However, despite Jack's open show of fascination, he wasn't going to be seeing anything else. At least...not just yet. Gabriel had seen the heated look in his eyes from others before, often enough that he knew it wasn't only the tattoos that were arousing Jack's interest. Drunken one night stands held no appeal for him, but if Jack still looked at him like that when he was sober....

Gabriel definitely wouldn't mind feeling those plush pecs fill his hands, finding out what Jack's creamy skin tasted like, getting a good look at the bared canvas of his body. He wondered again if it would be blank, or if Jack already had some ink of his own. Something patriotic, maybe? He had something of a military air about him, something in the way he carried himself, even drunk. Some iconography from the service? A motto, maybe? Discoveries to be made later when Jack could think straight and they'd had a chance to get to know each other a little better.

“That's it for tonight,” Gabriel said, pulling his hoodie back on and stuffing his shirt into the pocket. “Lend me your phone for a sec.”

Jack blinked at him, a bit slow on the uptake, but handed it over without question. He watched as Gabriel took a selfie, grinning around his forked tongue, then saved his contact information and sent himself a message. Maybe Jack would want to forget the whole thing come the morning, but Gabriel wouldn't bet on that.

“I'll text you tomorrow. We can set up a day to get you better acquainted with the city, if you want.”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, neighbor.” Grinning and feeling well-rewarded for his good deed, Gabriel waved and left for his own apartment and his waiting bed.

-------------------

Jack woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, an unpleasantly roiling stomach, and a mouth that felt like he'd been chewing on dirty laundry. He groaned, realized that the vibration was making his head pound worse and his stomach threaten to revolt, and stopped. Blindly, he reached out and groped across the nightstand for his phone, wondering what time it was and half afraid to find out. When he peered blearily at the screen, he saw that he had a new message from....

“Not A Devil...? Who the—”

[good luck with that hangover jackie]

Memories trickled back in, slow at first, then in a rush. The bar. The empty, unfamiliar streets. The bright light of the tattoo parlor.

Gabriel.

“Oh, God...!”

He remembered an unfairly handsome man with more tattoos and body modifications than Jack had even realized existed. Had the whites of his eyes really been black? He squinted at the picture, saw that yes, they were, and yes, Gabriel was just as good-looking through the unforgiving fog of a hangover as he had been when Jack had been drunkenly mistaking him for a devil and later pawing him in the living room of his apartment.

Not the sort of first impression he would ever be able to live down.

“I'm in Hell,” he groaned into his pillows. “Never drinking again.”

His only consolation was the vague memory of having somehow earned a second chance. He must have done something right in that case, and whatever it was, he was glad it had worked. Jack definitely wanted to get to know that particular neighbor much better.

#cornfuck and the reaper #fanfiction #i'm actually really tempted to throw this into the tags but it doesn't really go anywhere so...#i dunno i just wanted bodymod!Gabe 'cause i thought it kinda worked as a stand-in for bodyhorror!Gabe

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luvdsc · 3 years

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hello miss cat! omg yes i'm SO glad they're over they took up so much of my time and were so prolonged for no reason? i never understand how colleges keep 2-3 exams a day, give a long break, then keep 2 exams a day AND STILL have the entire thing go on for two weeks esp when it's online :/ the burn out 😔 aah i had a few research papers for my ergonomics class and econometrics which is always so hard to trudge through esp right after giving papers. but they're my chosen subjects after all

so i can't complain omg what have you been baking? does it turn out well? facetiming friends is always fun 💗 and 10 minute paintings sounds like such a stress buster! how is work? i've been working towards preparing for my drama exam coming up and i'm also teaching speech and drama to kids those younger than me :D and have also been researching for debates that i moderate with my friends from school. and YES i watched their dance practice it was sooo fun to watch i thought the winderella

i thought the entire escape room idea was so cool and the entire episode was just super fun to watch plus taeyong eating chocolate when everyone was solving the mystery!! 10/10!! i even liked the last episode I WAS ROLLING WHEN KAI JUST KEPT PULLING NOTES FROM THE BOX 😂😂 which was your favorite episode miss cat? hsbdkas i haven't watched the enquete episode entirely yet but i should now that sicheng said that LOL and YEAH OMG i thought it was kind of a red flag when he didn't tell her anything

hey that's so exciting! what do you want your space to look like?? being an artist as a profession is actually really cool! but it wasn't the most..what can i say now, stable? when it came to the economic standpoint so my mother didn't go with it :") ooo ok so from what i know when she's working on her cityscapes she's always like "the bigger the better" and she always works with knives on those so there's a lot of place to experiment with that! but otherwise when she has little time on hand she

prefers smaller canvases! omg yes a lot of her art was hung up at home (tbh it was more like storage before it went to exhibitions 😅) but she took them down because when my brother and i were younger we used to run around the house with darts and toy guns with ink rubber bullets which always ended up hitting the paintings rip and now she has her own studio so most of them are kept there! but yes she painted a family portrait so we have that up :") and a few more scenic paintings too!

dskcsjd i don't really think i enjoy interior designing that much mainly because i'm too lazy to start and move things around but yes conceptually it sounds like so much fun and i have sooo much respect for everyone interested in it. omigosh miss cat i could talk a lot about this but mainly since i teach speech and drama along with studying i love to experiment with different ways the characters can be portrayed when the younger students are performing! i love planning out play moves and

various voice modulation techniques! after all, there's no such thing as a bad molly weasley dramatization now is there? i looove performing arts and the feeling of being on stage is unparalleled for me with acting and dance :") i also used to write and edit but that was in school i don't think i've got it anymore rip. how about you? would you consider yourself creative? you've got a way with words so that's surely down for you 💗 it's so cool that you enjoy museums! do you have any favorites?

oooo yayoi kusama!! wasn't she the artist behind the fireflies room? (or was it something like that i'm sorry i don't remember what it was called jdbnsd) and monet is such a classic! oh wow, do you often incorporate impressionism into your artwork? (if that kind can be applied rip i'm sorry i'm not that knowledgeable about this stuff aah) 3d design!! ooo what materials do you use there? hndjxjdk oil paints take such a long time to dry don't they? awww doinf 10 min paintings sounds so cute!

what are they like, if you don't mind me asking? my weekend was good! i went to the park and fractured myself rip but otherwise i enjoyed by eating and sleeping well! did you have a good weekend? i hope you're having a super week and continue to do so! oh oh also, thank you for taking the time out to respond to me this is really sweet of you <333

also im sorry to randomly pop this in but i saw you got the album signed by our lord and savior our knight in shining armor our light at the end of a dark tunnel the woman herself QUEEN JISOO??!?!11/!?1 AAAAAAAH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU MISS CAT YOU ACTUALLY MANAGED TO SNAG ONE WOW SJSNDJKNSKJ (maybe now you'll have luck with pulling her i hopeee ahaha)

✿ ✿ ✿

hello, sweetpea!!! 💕 oh my god, i feel- i had like 3 exams in one day many times before and i just wished they spread the exams out over two weeks instead of cramming all of them into one ): it’s such a terrible class structure /: also hate when teachers still teach new material when it’s supposed to be dead week ugh asdfkaljshdfkl i heard economy and i’m that spongebob aight i’m out meme 😬 econ was my least favorite business subject rip. do you like what you’re learning in ergonomics and econometrics? is it interesting for you? 💓

i’ve been baking bread!! my mom and i like making little french baguettes or the japanese milk bread :’) and they come out really nicely!!! we have fresh bread for the week, and i love making breakfast styled sandwiches with it 💖 work is going well! i managed to finish work early on friday and got off at 7 pm :D so that made me very happy, and i’ve been relaxing over the weekend 💕 omg a drama exam! what do you have to do for it? will you be reciting a monologue or performing or is there an actual written exam too? :o and you’re teaching little kids and moderating debates too omg you’re so busy!! is it difficult managing all of that? 😦 and winderella is soo pretty like wow visuals 🤩💝

omg YES i love love love the escape room episode too!!!! it’s also my favorite! and LOL yeah, i noticed that too and laughed when i saw taeyong more interested in the chocolate than the game aksjhflaksjd also lucas is so smart?? he figured out the clues so quickly in the most simplest ways, and i wished they had acknowledged that ): watching mtopia made me more interested in ten too, like wow, he’s really quick witted too 💕 sicheng is whipped for lucas and lucas only. lucas won the life lottery, he received sicheng’s affection and their feelings are mutual 🤧💗

i would want it to look like how i decorated my dorm!! i pinned up all the art postcards i collected from different art museums around the world in a sort of mosaic collage on my walls and hung up my paintings too :’) and i had my paintbrushes and paints stored in these jars on my desk along with a bunch of my books stacked here and there. it was like a bright organized chaos in my dorm room in a sense? i had large sketchpads and blank canvas shoved behind my desks and bed and paintings drying in various areas, but i knew exactly where everything was placed ✨and i totally get it!! it’s why i didn’t choose to major in art too because i wanted financial stability

ooooh my gosh, your mom does palette knife paintings??? those are so gorgeous!!!! 🤩🤩 i looove seeing those being painted and i wish i was skilled enough to do those :o AND SHE HAS EXHIBITIONS?? SHE’S LITERALLY LIVING THE DREAM 💘💘 aksdjfahjlks i hope none of her paintings got hit 😅aaaah it’s great that she still has some of them up though :’) my mom hung up all my paintings too and it made me so happy when i saw 🤧

akjlshfdlja omg i feel that, like it’s fun to just think about it but actually moving furrniture around is hard work rip. once i move in somewhere, the furniture is gonna stay like that until i move again LOL oooo so do you teach different ways to portray a single character? do you create your own characters or do you use a preexisting one? have you ever created your own original play before? :o omg i have so much respect for actors and performing arts honestly, like memorizing all those lines and then having to add emotion to it plus remembering where you’re supposed to stand and go amongst a million other things?? i would completely fail. the only times i participated in performing arts are for piano recitals :’)

ooo yes, i would consider myself creative!! i love making things, like whether that be through building robots, drawing, painting, soft sculpting, 3d designing, graphic designing, baking, cooking, writing, etc. it’s just so much fun to be able to create. there’s something magical about being able to bring something from your imagination to life ✨ also, thank you so much 🥺💗 i looove moma!!! both the sf one and the nyc one! i also really love the louvre and museo thyssen-bornemisza 💜 i also really really want to visit the monet museum in france one day because i wasn’t able when i traveled there in the past, and i imagine that one will become my favorite if i do get the chance to 🌷

omg yes, you’re correct, she is indeed the one who made that!!!!! she made all those pretty mirror rooms with lights ✨ i absolutely adore her work 💟 and yes, i do!!! I try to incorporate monet’s style into my own paintings by doing a lot of short strokes and studying how sunlight hits nature. and rather than trying to be perfectly accurate, i go with my intuition. it’s kinda like how cher describes it in clueless, like from far away, it looks ok but up close it’s a mess LOL and omg it’s ok, you don’t need to apologize!!! thank you for taking an interest in my art :’) for 3d design, i used foam, cardboard, newspaper, wax, and metal wires!! and yeah, oil painting takes days, even weeks, to fully dry rip but it’s so much easier to blend and paint with because of the slow dry!

i do small paintings of flowers in ten minutes! i included some of them in my letters here 💛 oh my god, you fractured yourself??? how did that happen 😭 did you go see a doctor and get a cast? does it hurt now? pls be careful ): i did have a good weekend, thank you! 💞 i slept in and ate lots of good food :’) and thank you so so much, my week went well too 💟💟 and omg of course, you don’t have to thank me, lovebug, i enjoy talking to you!! 💓 💓

AND YES I DID!!!! I’M SO HAPPY 😭💜💜💜 I HAVE IT DISPLAYED IN MY ROOM AND IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL 🤩 THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺💟 omg i actually just bought all her pcs 🤧💗 jisoo is an expensive woman, but i have most of her pcs now :’) and yes, hopefully when the next album comes out in two years hopefully, i’ll be lucky enough to pull her pc 💞💞

how have you been, sweetpea? how’s your weekend going? 💚

#asks #shawtythatsyou

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recentanimenews · 5 years

Text

The Latest Black Clover Has Left Fans Heartbroken

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. SO IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED THE MOST RECENT EPISODE OF BLACK CLOVER, PLEASE TURN BACK NOW

If you're like me, you've taken the last week to mourn. In the previous episode of Black Clover, after an amazing fight, Licht/William Vangeance stabbed Julius Novachrono, the Wizard King. Meanwhile, Yami, in a worse mood than usual, came upon the murder and prepared to draw his katana. And as the newest episode starts, Licht is exhibiting one of his primary personality traits - being uncomfortably glib.

Licht introduces himself and his personality "situation" to Yami, but it doesn't seem like Yami is interested in doing anything other than ripping Licht's head off and throwing it across the Clover Kingdom. Meanwhile, Marx is panicking so Yami yells for him to go get some help and Valtos pops up like a gopher...

...and he and Licht escape before being hit by Yami's Dark Cloaked Dimension Slash.

Yami tells Julius to hang in there, but that advice would have been better suited about ten minutes ago because Julius doesn't look too good. Of course, Julius, being, like, the best, compliments Yami on the magic he just used.

Julius spends most of his dying breaths telling Yami about how rad Yami is and how much hope he has for the next generation of Magic Knights. Meanwhile, Asta is watching Mereoleona absolutely decimating Rhya, and is thinking what we're all thinking...

But Rhya plans to self-destruct, which Asta nullifies in the most awesome, navel-destroying way possible.

Asta then punches Rhya, angry that Rhya would even consider self-destructing in the first place.

Asta demands that Rhya and the Eye of the Midnight Sun members explain themselves, while Mereoleona is more than ready to just burn them all to a crisp. But Asta intervenes, saying that they can understand each other because they're all basically the same. Asta talks about trying to remove all of the "rage" and "hatred" that motivates the Midnight Sun, all while a dying Julius thinks of similar subjects. If Asta doesn't eventually become Wizard King, I'm gonna throw my laptop out a window.

Licht and Valtos meet up with some of the other Midnight Sun members to discuss some light villainy, because now Licht has all of the magic stones.

Yami keeps pleading for Julius to hold on. With Julius, Asta and Yami, this episode is just a parade of Good Boys being their Best. And of course, Julius is waaaaaaay too humble:

Yami is like, and I'm only slightly paraphrasing here, "NAH, BRO. YOU'RE GOOD. WE ALL SAW THAT LAST BATTLE. THAT WAS WATCHMOJO.COM TOP 10 ANIME FIGHTS-WORTHY." We're then treated to a flashback to when no one really liked Yami except Julius who, definitely ahead of the curve, thought that Yami's dark magic was absolutely awesome. We see Julius try to help Yami fit in a bit and Yami has the same reaction I had when my elementary school teachers said "I know we've been teaching you this one certain way to write for five years, but have y'all heard the good word about our savior CURSIVE?"

We see years of Julius complimenting Yami and bribing him with dinners and promoting him to be the Captain of the Black Bulls. And then, back in the present, Julius "leaves the rest" to Yami, and after talking about how happy he is to have gotten to meet all of these different kinds of people and see different kinds of magic, Julius passes away, seemingly satisfied. Take it easy, Wizard King.

Meanwhile, Yuno and his group are making it to the center of the Midnight Sun hideout, where they discover someone suspended in an intense amount of mana.

Licht prepares to insert the final magic stone and Valtos, Sally and Rades are suuuuuuper pumped about all of the magic that they're about to acquire. Valtos talks about his sad pre-Licht life and how devoted he is to Licht, and Licht, jumping on Julius' compliments train, tells them how great they've been doing. And then (TWIST) Licht tells them that they're actually just ugly, awful humans and, as a strange power seems to sweep across the Clover Kingdom, Yuno's ears grow elf-shaped and a mark appears on Yuno's face....

And credits. Well, until Petit Clover, which is just more Julius telling Yami that he should believe in himself, and honestly, I could sit through a whole episode of that. But what does this all mean for Black Clover? Well, I imagine that we're going to have to wait a bit before we see everyone's reactions to the death of Julius, which will be just icing on the cake of whatever Licht has planned now.

Asta punching Rhya before he could self destruct and then monologuing about all of the good stuff he wants to do for the kingdom is a lesson in "Asta-tude" (That won't catch on, will it?) And it's going to be interesting to see how Yami shoulders Julius basically leaving him in charge of ensuring that the next generation of Magic Knights stays solid. And on the side of the bad guys, Licht has always seemed like someone that would add a bunch of hidden folds to his plan, so I'm eager to learn A) What kind of pain Valtos and his unlucky gang is about to go through, because a lot of hurt is definitely about to come their way, and B) What's up with Yuno.

But anyway, let's dive into your reactions to this episode:

Asta's speech pic.twitter.com/MMVCQkkfzI

— Ashley (@smash_1209) July 30, 2019

As we all know, a Shia LaBeouf clapping gif is the highest compliment that one can recieve.

OH NO

— erin ♡ (@daydreamwariors) July 30, 2019

OH NO, indeed.

Damn... my heart. I’m worried about everybody else now too. pic.twitter.com/TUYPjAhHhl

— +Uʟᴛʀᴀ (@AddUltra) July 30, 2019

This Dumb & Dumber gif hits real close to home, as it's pretty much me for the entirety of the last two episodes. And Black Clover is great at leaving us in a constant state of "Welp, I hope the entire cast is okay."

pic.twitter.com/ypzW5vlZoS

— Tyler Cecil (@Cecilman99) July 30, 2019

When words cannot do an episode justice, a simple gif will suffice.

????????????????????????

— Just Daisy (@sunnydaisydee) July 30, 2019

You know what I just said about gifs? Emojis work, too.

Magical.

— El serpent warden (@AdmaAnime) July 30, 2019

Simple, but true.

YUNO

— David (@TheeParallax) July 30, 2019

SAME.

So u guys killed JULIUS??????????????

— Girish.K.L (@GirishKL19) July 30, 2019

I think we're all gonna need some time after this one.

What did you think of this episode of Black Clover? Who, if anyone, will be the next Wizard King? Let us know in the comments!

--------------------------

Daniel Dockery is a writer and editor for Crunchyroll. You should follow him on Twitter!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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