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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here.

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield…

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over.

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes...

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up…

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory.

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!!

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night…

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully…

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

#you say athena mc is smart #i say athena mc is spy #because where better to use your smarts #in war #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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dreaminpeaches · 3 years

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“Ladies, Gentlemen, Enbies...HER--I mean Him? Or them?-- whatever, anyways here's the first part of my daydream paracosm, Humble Pie. I was really happy I was able to come up with the first part in a somewhat cohort manner. Part 2 is also going to follow this sometime soon, but after that its probably just gonna be short shorts, text exchanges, and or drabbles, but that first part’s finally a thing! And that’s cool”

“Also just reminder that this paracosm is set in a mix timeline, like people have flip phones, cassette tapes, but still also have stuff like gamer chairs, and slang like sus/lit exist, so I hope that doesn’t bother you..oof”

“Also I wrote this from my Remarkable, then convert it to text, and did some proof reading, but my handwriting is still can only be read by chickens and my dyslexia ninja has sneak 100 accuracy so..yeah

Word count: 6,115

TW: mention of Bullying, DeadBeat dad, Smoking, Drinking, Swearing (only for comedy’s sake tho’), Dissociation, Guilt (but don’t worry there’s still A LOT of fluff in this piece, tho)

Link to Alternate version on my off-site daydream blog: Humble pie part 1

=================================================================

"Okay, here we go" Beau said, taking one last drag of his cigarette, and taking in one last look at the panoramic view of the town below, Newbury, his hometown, he was away for a year because of college which he dropped out of. Well, "dropout" made it seemed like he had a choice, more like he flunked out, there were' 'reasons that 'made college impossible for Beau, reasons that he couldn't get into or more like reasons he didn't want to get into, these were the some reasons that turned what was suppose to be a 5 hour drive into an 8 hour one, making him stop ever so often to the nearest park, overlook, or clearing to get out, smoke and or take a short walk. These stops were so frequent by the time he reached his hometown’s overlook he was on his last stick, hard to believe he started the trip w/ a full box.

He dropped the last of the remains of the cig on the ground and stomped out the glow ember with his dark brown rounded toed boot, watching the embers glow go out made him feel similar in a way.

Beau took one more last look at the small town below blanketed by the dark, light sky. He looked around. the overlook, bring back memories of. late night make outs, sneak outs and general teenaged shenanigans.

Beau remembers once on a night he was really buzzed, a rare event for him, drinking with his buddies, rather it was the buzz from the beer, or he was just 'riding the 'high off scoring the winning goal for the team, or general teen hormones. He felt invincible, so invincible he stood up on the ledge and proclaimed himself as king of the world

A moment Beau looks back at and shakes his head as if to try to erase the memory from his mind like an etch n’ sketch, suddenly he got a bad taste in his mouth or maybe that's just the cigarettes "King of world….yeah, right" Beau said pulling up the collar of his jacket and shrugging his hands into his pockets, and headed back into the car.

It was getting late and there was no use in stalling any longer, might as well continue to the inevitable. Stalling may be that’s the feeling that's been following him the whole time, stalling the fact that he would have to return to his hometown a failure after being touted and praised for being a star athlete , and getting into a ivy league school, a feat his mom was really proud since she herself couldn't go to college because of having Beau at such a young age, and having to deal with a bunch of other “BS” as Beau would put it.

Beau really wanted to make her proud by becoming a famous football player and make tons of money so she wouldn't ever have to worry about bills n 'stuff and live in the malibu dream house she dreamed of living in since she was a kid, a dream she would talk about to her children like it was fairytale during when time got real tough.Even though she sounded upbeat over the phone about the news, Beau knew his mom was an expert when it came to masking her disappointment and skill that was pretty integral with dealing Beau's birth father. He just hopes she's not too disappointed

As the twilight sky grew more dark the street lights flickered on. Familiar and nostalgic landmarks and structures rolled by as Beau drove by with one hand gripping the wheel while the other hand hung casually out of the rolled down window. the nighttime breeze gentle, tossing his cart dirty blond hair mullet. The 'murmur of punk music lighty playing from the car's speaker, that was playing louder earlier but the volume's quickly depleted because blasting punk 'music at night in a small town is pretty serious offensive a risk, a younger Beau would play around with, but now being older he knows better.

Driving into his old neighborhood, seemingly not much has changed, but what do you expect from a small town? The old neighborhood consisted of typical signatures of most middle upper class .. neighborhoods, Christmas ' decorations long over due to be taken down, manicured lawns, next to slightly less manicured lawns. Some lawns adored w/ gnomes and flamingos, a step up from the lawns of homes in his childhood neighborhood whose homes had what one could consider a lawn but just barely, Beau and his brother were lucky enough to have a sizable back yard and a tree house.

His family's lawn had a bunch of outdoor toys laid about on their lawn: a nerf gun, a pink tricycle, a tiled dyed color bouncy ball and an empty container of mega bubble wand. Beau drove up in the driveway being careful to not accidentally run over any of the toys in the yard.

He eject the mixtape from the player and put it into his jacket chest pocket. Beau leaned over and rummaged through the glove compartment fishing out a small travel can of axe's body spray and another small spray can of mouthwash, he used both to cover the scent of cigarette smoke, a smell his mother was highly sensitive to. He popped in a stick of spearmint for extra measure before getting out of the car and going to the trunk to retrieve his suitcase. Beau only had one suitcase since all the stuff really needed and cared about conveniently fitted in one suitcase.

Beau propped up his suitcase as he closed the trunk, the car beeped and blinked as he pressed the lock button. He headed up the pathway to the front door, his heart beating louder and louder with each step leading up to the front door.

Beau took a deep breath, Pulling himself together. "Okay" He said under his breath as his hand slowly reach for the knob but before he could even get a good grip, the door swung open, Beau's eyes raced up to see the thinning hair of a middle aged man, Beau eyes lowered a bit more to see the mustached clad face of the man the hair belonged to. "Hey, Big Boss! '' the mustache man said with a grin. The man was Beau's stepfather, David.

"Hello, David, I-I mean Dad." Beau awkwardly greeted his stepdad, trying his best not to show discomfort at his step dad's “nickname" for him.

"Ha, ha that's okay, son!”David laughed, giving Beau a hefty pat on the back.

"Here, let me get your bags." David said, reaching for Beau's suitcase, looking behind Beau expecting more bags

“You only brought one bag?" he questioned, looking curiously.

'--I like to be efficient" Beau muttered with a shrug and a side glance. "HAHA you and me both, Big B" David chuckled playful elbowing Beau, who gave a half-smile and a small chuckle--well, more like a slight nose huff

"Hey, honey Big B is home!" David shouted as Beau closed the front door.

His mother came rushing from the bedroom in her rose pink robe w/a barbie in insignia on the front with matching fuzzy slippers, her sandy blond hair still damp from the shower.

"My little boy, oh!" she said, warping Beau in a tight motherly embrace. "Welcome home!" Beau's mother pulled back for a second, cupping her son's face in her hands “you’re still so handsome"

"Wait..." Beau gently removed his mom's hands from his face "Are you okay, mom?" He asked his considerate brown eyes searching his mother's teal eyes for any sign of distress.

"Of course, sweetie," his mom beamed. "I have all of my loved ones under one roof. What's more to ask?"

it's just that I didn't- Y-you know." Beau said with downcast eyes

"Oh, that" his mom said wide eyes and then shaking her head in dismissed

"Don't worry about not finishing college, I mean just look at me"

“But You just seemed so proud that I got in, I just didn't want to let you down"

“Sweetie, it's fine," his mom said, gently guiding his head up with her hand to look at him "I was not proud that-You were becoming the smart, sweet kind young man, I always knew you were, but now. I'm just happy that you’re here and I get to see you go. on the journey myself!" Beau chuckled tightly and blushed at his mom's admiration.

"Plus, Your mom's not the only one who is happy to have You home!” David said, gesturing towards the hallway. Beau looked to see a small figure peeking from the corner, the figure quickly disappeared followed by an overflow of giggles.

A smile slowly creeped across Beau's face, he slowly kneeled down. " "Gasp * Is that my little care bear?"

From the shadows totted out, a little girl dressed in a blue care bear patterned nightgown, her blonde hair tied up in pigtails, she grasped a love-a-lot bear in one arm while her other arm was open as she raced towards Beau, also with arms wide open for a hug "Bo-Bo"

"Hey, care bear!" Beau cooed as he picked up his little sister "Wow, You've gotten so big since the last time I saw you!

"Carrie's been asking when you were coming since you told us you were coming home "David stated

"Really?"

"Yep!'' Carrie nodded proudly "You still have the love-a lot bear I won at grad night". Beau vividly remembers winning Love A Lot and his friends making fun of him, but Carrie really appreciated it more than he thought.

"Yeah, she takes it with her everywhere!" mom emphasized “Thank god, the kindergarten has a security blanket policy!

"Aww..." Beau said fondly looking at Carrie, who had her head resting on his shoulder, still grasping love a lot.

Beau thought for a moment and looked around "wait, where Dev?"

"Oh" mom said putting her hand on her head with a semi sigh "He's been going through... things"

"Teenager things: David specified "He's the big one three now.. "

“Don't worry, I can talk to him!”Beau said, confidently, slowly nodding his head

. Carrie lets out a small yawn "Aw, you sleepy, care bear?" Beau asked as Carrie rubbed her eyes

"It's past her bedtime, but she really wanted to see you," Mom said, stroking Carrie's hair. "Is someone ready for the sleep shuttle'?" Beau asked Carrie, looking at her in her sleepy hazel eyes, she nodded in response

"Alright, Here we go!" Beau held Carrie in both hands placing his arms out in front of him, he kneeled down and started counting down. "3…..2...1. Blast off!"

Beau shot Carrie in the as he stood back up. As he moved towards Carrie's bedroom, he moved all around side to side, up and down while making spaceship sounds, Carrie was giggling all the way through.

"Incoming! "Beau shouted as he swooshed Carrie round a few more times before landing her swiftly on the bed.

"Huston, the eagle. has landed!." Beau said, holding his ear as if he had an earpiece "Not eagle! Bear!" Carrie stated holding up her care bear "correction, the "BEAR" has landed!" Beau correcting himself, bringing a huge smile to her face as she nuzzled her care bear

"Okay, night, right, care bear" Beau said patting carries head

"Wait!" Carrie said holding on to her brother's arm "Is Bo-Bo still gonna be here in the Morning?""Of course, I'm not going anywhere at least for a while.." "Beau said, kneeling down to Carrie's eye level.

"Okay, I like having Bo-Bo around:'' Carrie said "and I like being around" Beau said, "see you in the morning, care bear" Beau gives Carrie a good night kiss on the forehead.

She settles into bed as Beau closes the door. Beau grinned to himself, feeling lucky to have such a cute sister. He remembers when Devin was that little, speaking of Dev. Beau apphoraced Dev's bedroom door. The door was caution tape, Don't enter signs, with a please knock before entering sign.

At first Beau did think about knocking but then thought "I could be a respectful older brother respect the sign or I could have fun and be a little shit. He pondered about it for a minute then-"yeah, I'm gonna be a little shit.”

Beau took a card out his wallet and wedged it in between the door to jimmied the lock. He peeked through the door to see Dev playing a video game on the tv. "you little..." Beau said under his breath, before bombastically opening the door "Hey there, squirt!" Beau said, shoving the door open

"Didn't you read the sign?!" Dev said as he turned around in his gamer chair in both shock-and annoyance

"Wow, that's a pretty warm welcome to give your older brother you haven't seen in a year!" Beau snarked, pretending to look hurt'' "Nice to see you too!"

"Oh my god!" Dev said, rolling his eyes and turning his chair back to tv, bringing his attention back to the game.

"and here I thought you were working on a project or homework or some school shit!" Beau continued "but no, you're just sitting here playing one of your little nerd games"

"Oh my god, can't you just leave!" Dev groaned as he hunching closer to the tv.

"You couldn't at least say "Hi" " Beau said now standing right behind Dev gamer chair

Dev raised and waved his hand half-heartedly and flatly said "hi"

"Well, damn I feel loved," Beau said sarcastically. "aren't you at least gonna look at me?" shaking the gaming chair a bit to gain an ounce of his little brother’s attention.

“ I saw you "Kool aid man" into my room. Is that enough?" Dev said still focusing on the game Beau sighed, then got an idea "Dev! Dev! I think there's something wrong with my heart I think I gonna-ugh!" He said staggering forward a bit before falling in Dev's lap, knocking out the game controller out of Dev's hands.

"Come on! I was in the middle of battle!" Dev whined looking at his brother playing dead

"Get off of me!" Dev go armed as he tried to push beau off with no luck

"Come on, Beau!" He gored in frustration “I know you're not dead! I can still feel your heartbeat..."

Get up!" Beau remained still, Dev rolled his eyes; he knew the exact words to get his brother off his back or in this case lap.

"Big brother, can you please get off of me n Dev utter begrudgingly "Aw, you haven't call me ‘Big brother’ in years" Beau chimed with a smile, finally getting up "I'm still kind of hurt, that you cared about your gaming progress than the well being for your one and only big brother"

"You were still breathing, I could literally see you inhaling and exhaling." Dev clarified rubbing his forehead

"Touche, I guess" Beau said he then directed Dev's chair in front his bed," now that I have your attention"

"Okay, I guess I should say sorry since you couldn't and say "hi" to me because you were too busy saving some elf princess, or some anime chick with huge melons"

"I-H-Hey I don't even play those types of games!" Dev argued blushing

" .-sure you "don't'." Beau taunted with a wink, Dev goanned "Anyways, Anyways you don't have to say "hi",; but you could at least not talk to me"

Beau suggested, shrugging. "I guess" Dev mumbled kind of sinking into his chair "cool, so how's life?" Beau started, trying to start a diagoul "okay"

"How's school?"

"Okay"

"How’re your friends?"

"Okay"

"Got a girlfriend?"'

"NO”

"Got a boyfriend?"

N-NO"

"Got any crushes"

“….NO…..."

"joined any clubs or any other after school junk?"

" ..... NO..."

"Are you just gonna answer all my questions in one word?"

Dev fell quiet, and shifted his gaze from his brother

“Okay, that's it!" Beau huffed, he picked up Dev and hoasted him over his shoulder "Hey! put me down!" Dev-shouted , beating his fists on Beau's back "Not until you talk to me like an actual person, and one worded answers aren't gonna cut it, squirt!"

"MOM! Dad!"

"Mom and Dav-Dad are fast asleep, and you know they both sleep like rocks!" Beau stated'' the only person you'll wake up is Carrie, and You don't want to wake little care bear, now do YOU?"

Dev fell Quiet again, "You know I can hold you like this for hours, you aren't really that heavy, or you can just end this and talk to me" Beau suggested ending the suggestion with a sigh and started to stomp his foot impatiently..

Dev continued the silent treatment for a bit until letting out a meek "Okay...I'll try" .

Hey, three words, that's a start!" Beau cheekly commented,He sat Dev back down in his green gamer chair.

"Okay, do over!" Beau said casually sitting across from Dev and his bed. "so, how's school going?" "F-fine” Beau gave Dev a intense look, reminding Dev of his word count “N-no, I mean it's just weird" Dev stuttered choosing his words carefully, Dev fiddled with his hoodie sleeves.

"and it's weird because..." Beau initiated, gesturing his hand toward encouraging Dev to continue "It's weird because.... I don't know, Middle school is way different than 'elementary school, I mean I knew that from tv, but middle school isn't like tv."

"It's okay, nothing like tv, that thing lies” Beau softly chuckled to himself and continued “I remember thinking Pogo sticks were the SHIT-cuz 'of people and cartoons on tv made it look so easy"

"I finally got enough money for one-- you were like little you probably don’t remember this-- but I was SO HYPED, I wanted mom to watch me. I took one hop, fell on my ass, and never hopped on that bitch again. I was pissed, I think mom was trying to her best not to laugh but I was so pissed I think I didn’t notice until now. I chucked the pogo stick in the garage, and I never looked at that bitch again”

Dev let out a stiff laugh, the defensive wall Dev put was slowly breaking

"Oh WAIT WAIT!” Beau said taking a moment to correct himself “ That WASN’T the last time the last time I looked that bitch, I fished it out of garage years later, only cuz’ I need some money for Madden. So, I did look at that bitch one more time, but only to sell that bitch.”

Dev let out a more audible laugh, but quickly caught himself and recollected, returned to his disillusioned teenage state.

"Anyway, The teacher's are kind of weird, like a lot of them hate my guts already, except for the coaches who are super nice to me." Dev explained, kind of looking away from his brother

"Weird, why do you think that is?" Beau asked whole hearty

"Because I'm related to you, Numb skull!" Dev blunted , groaning putting his hand on his forehead

"Oh damn, I guess that's my fault." Beau realized, rubbing the back of his neck "My bad. that my awesomeness is just lengardy"

Dev shook his head and rolled his eyes "It's not awesome to live in YOUR shadow!" Dev sulked, sinking back into his chair, his hands covering his face.

"You don't have to follow in my awesomeness, I know I'm a hard act to follow." Beau boasted teastingly so"You just gotta make your own awesomeness."

"What does that even mean?" Dev questioned, moving his hands down, allowing his eyes to peek through his fingers, trying not to given the urge to roll his eyes

"It's like my awesomeness comes from my boyish charm and good looks..." Beau claimed, striking an award winning smile, The urge not to roll his eyes was becoming even hard for Dev, but he still had to try and respect Beau "But your awesomeness could come from being good at games, or computers shit or math or robots or something--I don't know something real nerdy"

"I guess, you're right" Dev mumbled and shrugged,lifting himself up back into a sitting position rather than almost spilling out of his chair.

"Its not a guess, its science!" Beau declared proudly, tapping his temple with his index finger

"No,that's not science!" Dev arguing his brother's stupidity, flatly shaking his head in disagreement

"See, there you go using your nerd awesomeness" Beau pointed out with a wink "Keep that up and you'll go from Beau's lil bro, to just ‘Dev’ in no time." Beau playful tousled Devs mop dirty blonde hair

"I mean.." Dev continued batting his brother's hand away, "I was also thinking of joining the video game club or the robotics club at school."

"There you go another nerdy thing that to add to your own awesomeness" Beau said

"Yeah...." Dev continued ignoring his brother's comment' “Some of my friends are thinking about joining, and it would be a nice place to go away from mom and dad."

"I had sick memories of hanging out with the team, we got into some wild shit." Beau said laughing to himself, fondly reminiscing "But I'm sure you and you geek squad could have "wild" times too, like making an anime robot 'weify." or whatever those called or finding a new math formula or something"

Dev fell quiet for another moment, Beau always seems like he’s in between being supportive and subtly roasting him, Dev then uttered "um... I think I kind of have a crush... on a girl..."

"AYE, let's go! "Beau exclaimed, clapping and shaking Dev's chair for a bit before bouncing back on the bed'' Come on, don't leave me hanging, what's her name? "Have you talked to her vet? Have you asked her out? Have-"

"Calm down!" Dev demanded "I said I had a crush, I didn't say we’re going out.'"

"Oh, so you haven’t talked to her, huh?”

"No, I-I don't even know her name" Dev huffed, he let his arms slip into his oversize sleeves and covered his sleeves with his face in frustration.

"You know you could just ask, not the chick, like just ask around"

"I can't do that because if I do, people will find out I like her and if she finds out, I would just have to stop going to school!”

"Okay, let’s just pretend you DO have the balls to talk to this girl, what's the worst that could happen?" Beau suggested

"She finds out that I like her, thinks I'm weird and never wants to talk to me again or even look at me!” Dev muffled through his sleeved covered face

"You really think she can sus that out all in one go!" Beau said "I mean she is a middle Schooler unless she's like a young nancy drew, she is not going to chew you up and spit out like that." Beau explained "speaking of which''

Beau paused for a moment to spit out his gum into the trash can "Score!"

"Anyways, have you done anything weird to her or around her?"

"No, I mean I look at her in the hallways before and in between class, but I don't like-- stalk her or anything too weird." Dev mumbled, moving his sleeves from his face, but his head was still targeted down at his fingers fiddling with a tag on his black shorts

"So, then what's the fear?" Beau inquired, resting his chin on the heel of his palm

Dev thought for a moment, his eyes shifting looking for an answer." I-I guess I just don't know how to talk to her."

"Well, fuck, that's easy" Beau chuckled “Just talk about school shit, or just say "hi"

"Is it really that easy?"

"Yeah, if you have the balls for it" Beau reiterated "Think about it like this, the dudes you play in your little nerd games have to fight a dragon, a demon or some anime witch with huge melons to talk to the girl they like and they er brave enough to do all of that wacky shit. But you’re lucky, you don't have a dragon for real in your way to keep you talking from your crush. The dragon's just in your head! If those hero dudes can fight dragons they actually can see, doesn't that mean you can fight a dragon you don't even see."

"That was a really lame and kind of confusing metaphor" Dev sassed " But I guess understand what your trying to say"

"Exactly" Beau said nodding confidentiality

"Can we talk about mom and dad?" Dev asked sheepishly, looking up at his brother, (well as much as he could with his shaggy bangs in the way), his fingers now toying with his hoodie strings

"Did something happen?"

"No, I mean yeah, I mean it's just weird" Dev said "Mom and dad are starting to get more annoying but I don't know if they were always like that or they like charged"

"No, parents don't really change-usually” Beau explained “It's just that being a teenager makes you hypersensitive to a bunch of shit and makes you wanna be alone more. Parents, the good ones like spending time with their kids and they actually want quality time n' shit and that's where they start to get annoying".

“"Oh okay,” Dev nodded.'' It's just weird because sometimes I feel like I hate them, but I don't want to. I think I just really want to be alone more like you said but I don't want to shut them out, I just want them to get that." Dev-fiddles with the strings of his green hoodie

"Yeah, I think they do in a weird old people kind of way. Believe it or not they were teenagers to even if that was back in the stone age n' shit" Beau joke"

Dev let out an actual laugh, a sign to Beau that he's little bro was being less of a moody teenager

"Anyway, even with that said mom and david-I mean dad aren't mind readers, it would be cool if you give them a heads up, you don't have to tell them all about what's going on in your little teen nerd brain but at least something simple like something weird or funny that happened at school, or asking for help on homework or a project for class or some shit like that, I'm pretty sure Dav-dad would love that.."

"I guess I could try". Dev said slightly nodding his head "But Carrie is kind of weird too!

"How can Carrie be weird, she's 5.” Beau scoffed "she doesn't do anything weird really"

Dev added" it's just sometimes she's regular cute and other times she's annoyingly cute if that makes sense"

"I mean like kind of get what you're saying but "Beau shrugged gesturing his hand toward prompting Dev to continue

"Like I still look out for her because she little, but because she's little that means I have to do dumb stuff like look for monsters under her bed or do that sleep shuttle thing you do, but I can't really do it because my arms give out halfway through and she's heavier than she looks."

"Well, little brothers and sisters are annoying, it's kind of their job, trust me I know from experience" Beau: put his hand on Dev's knee, Dev tried to Swat at it but Beau quickly put his hand back with a smirk.

"But like with mom and da-David just cuz she's annoying doesn't mean You can’t look out for her n stuff"

"I guess, its because lately, it seems like'' Dev paused 'for a beat, his hands hard gripping the strings of his hoodie, before continuing" I don't know mom and dad have been paying more attention to her than me"

A mischievous smile creeps across his face. "AW does someone miss being the baby?"'

"Oh, fuck! I knew you 'er gonna say that!" Dev blurted out, feeling really exposed, he pulled his hoodie strings allowing his head to be consumed by his hoodie, all but his nose.

"Hey! language,” Beau said, surprised at his little brother's reaction those harsh words coming out of the mouth of small boy sporting a Yoshi hoodie

"You cuss' all the time!" Dev huffed pulling his hoodie back down, then crossing his arm definitely

"Yeah, but I'm older than you, and if mom and David--DAD hear you curse they’er gonna know you got it from me and won't get off my ass about it!"

Dev stared at his brother, simmering in frustration in failing to coming up w/a good come back or a flaw in his brother's logic, He let out a heavy sigh and resumed "Anyways, it's NOT like I miss being the baby, I just miss being able to hold their attention without Carrie coming in and stealing them anyway, I don't know its weird"

"Wait, did you just say that you wanted to be alone and away from mom and David-fuck. I'm not even gonna try more-he's asleep anyways." giving up any attempt to make the word "Dad" same with the name "David"

"Yeah, I know that's what makes it weird!" Dev admitted, he sulked back deeper into his chair and let out a groan.

"You know Carrie's not awake all the time, maybe you can talk to mom and David, when she goes down for her nap, hell, I could just take her to the park for a day." Beau offered

"You'd really do that for me?" Dev peeped, quickly lifting himself up in a sitting position, surprised at his brother kind offer

"Yeah, anything to make you less of a weird angsty shut in, with a bunch of cringy keep out signs and keep out tape!" Beau gestured towards the door

"Actually, I got that caution tape from a real crime scene" Dev clarified, with a smug smile

"Really?" Beau taking a longer closer look at the door

"No, thick head, I found it in a dumpster next to party city!"

"You go dumpster diving?" Beau said, raising an eyebrow

"I have a life outside of YOU!" Dev stated proudly

"Okay, and on that... Weird garbage goblin flex, sibling bonding time is over." Beau said getting up from the bed and heading for the door

"Actually, one more thing..." Beau said quickly, turning around, rushing towards Dev, putting him into a headlock.

"Did ya miss me? Come on, tell me that you missed me!" Beau taunted as he gave his brother a long and through noogie "Ouch, Ow, Ow, Okay, okay, I missed You. Geez:" Dev pleaded trying to struggle out of his brother's grip

"That's what I wanted to hear!" Beau said with a smirk, letting 'Dev go.

"Ugh! my hair" Dev fumed , gawking at his even more messy mop of hair.

"Like you care about appearances" Beau chuckled" mop top nerd!"

"Mullet-hair metal meathead!"

"Ouch, that was pretty good" Beau teased pretending to look hurt "Garbage Goblin"

"You already-"Dev started but was cut off by Beau closing the door

"Too late, the door is closed, I can't hear you, which means I win!" Beau said through the door, laughing at his brother's muffled fury of frustration.

Beau grinned relishing in the absolute confusion of his younger brother, but that good vibe quickly faded once he arrived at the door to his old bedroom. He just stood there and stared at the door for a bit, he could feel the icky stew of the emotions from bubbling back up again.

He flexed his hand a few times as if this was the first time he's ever pored a door, Beau's hand reached for the door handle before retracted as if the knob was red hot.

Beau sheepishly looked around as if somebody was watching him, no one was but it sure did feel like it. He considered sleeping on the couch, but that would be weird, since it seemed like his step dad put his luggage in his room. so, eventually he would have to go into his room anyway.

Beau took a deep breath. "Come on, it's just a door, dude!" He told himself Beau's hand rested on the door knob, he took another deep, his hand gained a stronger grip, and he slowly pushed the door open, Beau carefully entered the room as he closed the door behind him. Looking around the room was plaster with posters of football players and a few pinups of doe-eye, sensual women in swimsuits and other scantily clad outfits.

Athletic medals, trophies and awards displayed proudly on his bookshelf that lacked any actual books, those trophies stood next to pictures of Beau with his teammates, all illuminated by the moon's dull pale blue light. These relics of what felt like a bygone era used to fill Beau with so much pride and joy but looking at them now just leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

He could barely even recognize himself in those photos. This whole room felt like a shrine or more like a tomb to someone who no longer exists.

Looking at all this stuff just made the icky feelings from before rise up to the back of his throat making the bad taste linger even longer.

Beau couldn't really pin what-these feelings were, so he shifted his focus on just getting some sleep

As he thought, Beau's step dad put his luggage on his bed. He opened his bag and quickly changed into a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. He fished out the mix tape from his jean jacket and put into the gray clucky music player on his nightstand. Beau turns the music up loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough for disturb anyone else. Heavy metal music (ironally) helped him sleep on hard nights.

Beau laid in bed focusing on the one spot in his room that wasn't decorated with high school memorabilia. Focusing on that spot was way better than focusing on the icky feelings from earlier. All he needed to was focus on sleep just sleep, Beau closed his eyes and tried to focus on just sleep.

The next time Beau opened his eyes, he was back in the hallway of his highschool. Beau looked around confused why he was back here but before he could really sus out the situation, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud. He followed the sound of the thud that led to a scene of a bespectacled student being shoved up against the lockers. The student's face contorted by fear.

"P-please, d-don't hurt me. "the student uttered, the words quivering as it left his lips.

"Aww, look at him, guys." a familiar voice said, Beau couldn't see whom the voice belonged to. There was a strange mist in the hallway that obscured the person's face.-

"He's scared." the voice said mockly, the person nodded towards a group of people whose faces were also obscured by the mist, they laughed in response

“Don't worry, little buddy, I'm not gonna hurt ya:" the person taunted as he tightened his grip on the student and shoved his body up against the failing student. "As long as you don't squeal" .

"You squeal, and I'll fry you like the pig you are, got it. Swine?"

"I-I p-promise I W-won't. J-just please let me go!" the student begged

Beau was disturbed by scene happening before him, but along with the feel of disgust came a feeling of familiarity, like he's been there before

Just then the fog lift to reveal the face of a younger version of Beau dawned in his red “New Burny High school” letterman jacket. He was smirking relish in the fear he was inflicting on the poor student.

Older Beau slowly back up, almost stumbling as he was coming to the realization of the origin of all those icky feelings from before

"I don't know, do we trust him, guys?" Younger beau asked cocking his head back to his teammates, who shook their head in disagreement "The Boys and I don't seem very sure of that, I think I'm gonna have to test your loyalty !" Younger Beau winded up his arm for a punch, But before his fist could make an impact.

Beau found himself back in his room in a cold sweat, hyperventilating as quickly rose from his bed. His room, still illuminated by the moonlight, with the metal mix tape softly playing in the background. He looked at his hand as if they were lethal weapons. How could I do such a thing?

#daydream blog #daydream blogging #daydream dairy #paraportal #paracosm: humble pie #para: beau #para: devin #para: carrie #immersive daydreaming #paracosm

17 notes · View notes

softlighter · 3 years

Note

Blake feels haggard, and world-weary, but a passing painter asks her to pose for her a few times and the resulting painting is a masterpiece. Blake doesn't understand how Yang sees her as anything but weather-beaten, while Yang doesn't understand Blake's inability to see her own beauty or self-worth.

I hope you know how much I adored this prompt, nonny friend! I hope it was worth the wait. Also posted as “sketch of hope” on Ao3!

~~~

Blake takes a drink of her tea. It’s over-seeped and bitter, something no amount of milk or honey will fix, but it’s tea, and it’s warm going down. Still, she squeezes more honey into the chipped ceramic mug and stirs it in. Her eyes feel heavy, but she flips open her book once more and begins reading where she left off. It’s something she’s read before but it’s as worn and familiar as her sweater; just what she needs right now.

Another sip of tea, her nose crinkling as she’s hit with the sour and sweet syrupy taste, but she still downs half the cup. She would normally go to her favorite cafe, a ten minute’s walk away from her apartment, but it’s too much effort to exert right now. Everything is too much effort right now, hell, she’s just happy she managed to leave the apartment today. It’s something, it’s an improvement, even if this tea is awful and she wants to crawl back to her bed.

She puts her book down and sighs, rubbing her forehead. It’s a beautiful day. The sky is a crisp blue with fluffy clouds like cotton candy, and the spring wind is sweet with florals. Blake is at an outdoor cafe, and it’s a beautiful day. It’s a beautiful day, and she should be grateful.

But she’s not, and she’s tired.

Blake leans back in her chair, picking apart her croissant with her fingers and popping a bite in her mouth. At least their croissants are decent. She takes another bite, directly from the pastry this time, and casually brushes the crumbs off her sweater. Blake scans her surroundings and the few other occupied tables at the cafe. It’s still relatively cold, and not many are apparently wanting to brave the sharp nip of the rickety metal table and chairs.

But there’s a couple speaking in hushed tones and giggling every few minutes, even if their noses and cheeks are pink. There’s a group of boys across the patio playing some kind of game with dice and they shout loudly every once in a while, even with the couple sending them dirty looks. There’s another woman across from her, also sitting alone, but she is scribbling in a notebook.

She drifts back to her tea and croissant, but the back of her neck prickles, and her ears instinctively stiffen. Blake looks up once more, and she meets eyes of bright lilac. Her cheeks feel hot, but she doesn’t look away, despite herself. The other woman is blushing too, though, and she smiles sheepishly at Blake. “Guess I should’ve known better,” the woman says.

Blake’s brow furrows. “Pardon?” she says, more on instinct than anything else.

The woman’s face turns a deeper red, and she gestures toward her notebook. “I know I should’ve asked permission, but-”

“Were you drawing me?”

The woman nods sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s a bad habit. One of my old art teachers always encouraged it, said we got more natural looking sketches that way, but people don’t exactly like it. But, well, I couldn’t help myself. Hard habit to break, and you’re a perfect study.”

“I am?” Blake snorts. “Hardly.”

The woman frowns, her pink mouth curling downward. “Well, I say you are.” The woman hesitates before scooting closer to Blake’s chair. “You’re not upset?”

Blake shrugs. She doesn’t feel much beyond the heat in her cheeks and curling in her stomach, doesn’t feel much at all these days. Her eyes drop down to the notebook before looking back up at the woman. “I feel like there’s a compliment in there. Somewhere.”

The woman smiles, and she looks over her shoulder before getting up and taking the seat across from Blake at her table. Blake raises her brows, but she says nothing as the woman slides her notebook to her. “What do you think?” she asks.

Blake studies the dark lines, the way they curve and dance across the page in sketches and hatches. It’s obviously just a sketch, but the word just demeans the art before her, ignores the simplistic beauty of something in progres. The woman is talented, obviously so, but Blake still frowns. “That’s not what I look like,” she says finally, even though it, obviously, her.

“Maybe it’s not how you see you, but it’s how I see you,” the woman says.

Blake scoffs, but her eyes linger over the page before she forces herself to slide the notebook back. “You don’t know me.”

“I’m a good sense of character.” The woman closes the notebook and smiles at her, tucking a long blonde strand of her back behind her ear and underneath a purple hat the same color as her eyes, but even the electric lilac of the wool dulls in comparison to her eyes. “Can I ask a favor?”

“You can ask whatever you want, doesn’t mean I have to answer.”

“Would you consider posing for me?”

Blake blinks. “What?”

The woman nods brightly. “Come to my studio, with proper lighting and stuff like that.”

“Again, what?” Her brows knit together, and she’s not sure if she’s amused or concerned. “I don’t know you.” And you’re not going to want to know me.

The woman shrugs. “Are you a serial killer?”

“No, but-”

“We can stay here if you’re more comfortable with that,” the woman presses. “You’re just- well, you’re exactly who I’ve been looking for.” Blake’s stomach turns, but the woman quickly adds, “I mean, just, wow, that sounds so creepy, but seriously. You’re a delight to draw.” The woman laughs. “That’s not much better, is it?”

Despite herself, she smiles. “No,” she agrees. “It’s not.” She considers and tilts her head, her fingers tapping against the cool metal of the table. “If you want to, I’ll be here for a bit longer. So do whatever you like.”

The woman’s face breaks out into a bright grin. “Thanks!” She laughs, scratching the back of her neck. “I’m Yang, by the way.”

“Blake.” Yang extends her hand, and Blake nearly gasps when she sees Yang’s arm. Yang’s smile fades. Blake stumbles for her words, her tongue feeling thick and clumsy. “That’s beautiful,” Blake says finally, taking her hand in her own. The metal is cold in her hands, but smooth. “I take it you designed it?”

That warm smile returns. “Yeah, I did,” Yang admits, and she rolls her sleeve up to her elbow. The prosthetic is sleek, but there’s a thousand images all painted onto the metal. Sunflowers, roses, and lilacs all creep up and over her fingers to her palms, bright and abundant, before the blooms swirl into gleaming golden scales and, finally, crackling flames. She’s never seen anything like it, and she can’t help but stare. “Painting with my left hand is hell, though.”

“Well, you did an amazing job,” Blake says, forcing herself to wrench her eyes away from the breathing art to meet Yang’s eyes.

“I mean, if I’m gonna be wearing it all the time, it better be, you know?” Yang shrugs, but she opens the notebook once more. Her pencil appears from nowhere, and Yang starts sketching, her eyes on the page. She looks up at Blake and smiles. “You can keep reading, if you’d like.”

And she would’ve, but instead she says, “I thought you wanted me to pose for you.” Yang’s jaw slackens, and Blake smiles to herself. “Tell me what to do, artiste.”

Yang laughs. “Pick something comfortable for you,” Yang says. “This can be my proper warm up.”

Blake straightens her shoulders and leans her elbow onto the table before resting her chin on her hand. She’s staring at Yang in this position, she realizes, but Yang just smiles again and resumes sketching. Her pencil flies across the paper, sure and steady but light, and Yang looks up at her, but it’s different. Her eyes are appraising now, still warm, but studying her. Studying her like she’s a piece of art, like she’s something beautiful.

“I thought you said this was your warm up,” Blake says a few minutes later. “This looks pretty intense to me.”

Yang shrugs, still looking down at her paper. “You speak to me,” Yang says simply. Blake’s stomach clenches. “Maybe I’ve found my muse in you.”

“I’ve never believed in muses.”

The corner of Yang’s lip quirks up. She’s so quick to smile. “Well, I do,” Yang says. Yang checks her watch, frowns, and looks up at her, and her eyes are soft. “I gotta go, but if you’re ever around Sixth Street, I work on thirty-eighth. You’ll know it when you see it. Feel free to drop by to see the finished product.”

“Alright.” She doesn’t address the offer, just lets it sit between them as Yang packs up. “Have a nice day, Yang.”

But Yang rips out the first drawing and hands it to her with that bright smile. “Just so you remember how I see you, Blake.” Yang winks, and then she’s gone. Blake swallows hard, her eyes unexpectedly hot, and she stares at the sketch.

When she gets home, she tapes it to the wall next to her bed before burrowing back under the covers and letting oblivion take her.

~~~

Blake tells herself that the bakery on Sixth is why she’s there, that she’s had a craving for their challah bread and the bakery’s bread closer to her apartment isn’t what she’s craving. She tells herself that, but she still takes the long way to Sixth and walks around so she’s on the higher end of stress addresses. The apartments here are nice and made of bricks, colorful and inviting. Perfect for Yang.

But thirty-eight takes the cake. There’s a mural on the bricks, and it’s a collision of paint and color and wonder. Even in the overcast day, Blake’s eyes can’t get enough of it. She instinctively knows Yang did it, and a smile tugs at her lips before she can stop it.

She bites her lip, but she can’t stop herself from walking up the stairs to the door. Blake knocks, and she hears a voice within call, “One sec!” Her heart skips a beat, and her hands bunch into fists. This was a bad idea. This was a very, very bad idea.

But the door opens, and Yang is there. She’s in a tank top and paint-speckled jeans and her long blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail. Blake weakly waves, and Yang just grins at her. “I’m happy you’re here,” Yang says, holding the door open. “Wanna come in?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she says, trailing off, but she still steps through the door. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“Whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

Blake looks down to Yang’s bare feet and slips out of her shoes, all too aware of her pastel lemon-patterned socks. But Yang doesn’t even give her or her feet a second glance before ducking deeper into the apartment, and Blake’s stomach clenches.

This is a bad idea. This is a very, very bad idea.

But she follows Yang deeper into the house, and with every step she has to stop and stare. Art is everywhere, but she can tell it’s not just Yang’s. There’s monochrome paintings and stunning glossy photographs and sketches done in smeared charcoal over every square inch, and Blake wonders what it must be like in Yang’s mind, what it’s like to see beauty everywhere she looks.

Yang leads her through a small kitchenette and into the real show. There’s canvases everywhere, leaning against the walls and blank and ready to be painted, in all sizes. The easel is already set up with wet paint. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Blake says, biting her lip.

Yang waves her off and tosses her a bottle of water, which Blake manages to catch somehow. “You’re not, trust me,” Yang says. “This can wait.” Yang takes the canvas off the easel and smiles at her. “So, you here to pose or to see what I did with the sketches?”

“Both, I guess.”

Yang laughs and grabs a smaller canvas, carefully handing it over to her. “Take a look.”

It’s of Blake’s hands, the paint thick and chunky but somehow creates an incredibly smooth picture despite the obvious physical texture. Her hands seem delicate but sturdy, like Yang had snapped a photo of her in movement, acting with purpose and surety and certainty. Her hands have been painted with light haloing around them, a soft buttery gold that warms the icy blue background. Like she’s a saint. Like she’s capable of being a blessing, of blessing someone. Like she’s good.

Her fingers hover over the smooth whirls of paint that seem to arch off the canvas and beg her to touch them, to feel what she imagines is silky soft. But she pulls her hand back, even if she doesn’t dare wrench her gaze away. “Beautiful,” she whispers, her throat thick. Yang even noticed the small scar on her right ring finger from a papercut that somehow left a pale scar and the freckle on the inside of her left index finger.

“Thank you,” Yang says, and when Blake looks up, Yang is smiling. “But this is just the start.” Yang takes the painting from her hands and sets it back down before gesturing Blake over to a chair by the window. “Here, just sit down here and look up or down, your choice!”

Blake gives her a quizzical look, but she still sits down. Yang’s hands hover around her but don’t ever touch her, something she appreciates. The stool isn’t the most comfortable, but she quickly settles in a position. “Is this what you’re looking for?” she asks as Yang settles behind her canvas. She’s looking at the feet of the easel, but when she raises her eyes she can make eye contact with Yang.

“You’re perfect.”

~~~

Blake comes back the next day. And the next day. And the next day, and the next day, until she’s been by Yang’s every day for two weeks.

“You know, I need to pay you,” Yang says suddenly one afternoon.

“What? Why?”

“I mean, you’re spending hours sitting in the same position. You’re providing a service, the least I can do is pay you for it.”

Blake shakes her head, her mouth dry. “No,” she says. “Please, don’t.”

“Are you sure?” Yang asks, her brow furrowing. “I mean, like, I’m pretty sure it’s unethical to not compensate you for doing this.”

Blake doesn’t say that she doesn’t have anything else to do, doesn’t say that she enjoys Yang’s quiet and loud company, doesn’t say that this is better than laying in bed and gives her a reason to shower. Instead, she says, “I don’t need the money.” It’s true, she doesn’t. When she sold the publishing house, she knew she would never have to work again, but, until a few months ago, she had still worked as an editor. Coco sometimes still texted her asking if she wanted to read manuscripts, but Blake usually gave her a noncommittal response. “And you buy me lunch, so call it even.”

Yang snorts. “Lunch is the least I can do,” she says, but she’s picked up her paintbrush once more and resumed. “Let me make you dinner one night.” Blake opens her mouth to respond, but Yang keeps going before she can. “I make a mean lasagna, and I always make too much, so you’d be doing me the favor.”

“Are you sure?” Blake asks. She’s barely eaten anything besides pastries and readied meals for months, and the sound of a home-cooked meal makes her stomach rumble.

“Yeah,” Yang says. “Least I can do.”

“It’s really not,” Blake says. Yang raises a brow, but she keeps painting, so Blake continues. “You’re just nice, Yang. Not everyone is as nice as you.”

“Well, I just want to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.” Yang shrugs. “And maybe a little better than that if I can, but seriously, Blake. I don’t know who you hang out with, but you deserve nice things, and, dare I say, good things?” Yang winks at her. “You’re my muse. I think I’m allowed to give you as much as you give me.”

“I just sit here,” Blake says, but Yang is already shaking her head.

“No, Blake. You do so much more than that.”

~~~

Yang doesn’t show her any of the finished paintings after she sees the hands, but Blake knows she’s made several. She doesn’t mind not knowing, even if it makes her stomach twist. She wants to know what Yang sees, even if she doesn’t understand her perspective. How Yang can see her as anything good.

“So, uh, I have to tell you something,” Yang says one night after dinner, scratching the back of her neck.

Blake freezes up, but she nods. “Shoot.” She’s sick of you, she doesn’t want you, she’s done with you.

“Well, um, tomorrow is my mom’s birthday, and I won’t be around until after lunch.”

“Yeah, of course,” Blake says, her shoulders sagging. She’s washing the dishes, which Yang always protests her doing, but she still manages to get in there before Yang can. It’s the least she can do. “Is your family doing anything?”

“Not really. My, well, my mom died a couple years ago.” Blake stills, but Yang keeps talking. “And my sister is with my dad, but I got class in the morning, and I didn’t want to cancel.”

Blake pauses, setting the dish down on the drying rack. “Do you want to do something?” she asks. “Something for her?”

“Well, I usually get dinner at her old favorite restaurant here with my family or some friends, but I was thinking we can meet here and-”

“You should do that. Go out to dinner, I mean. Don’t- don’t feel obligated to hang out with me.”

“Obligated?” Yang repeats. “Blake, I do this because I want to. I want to be around you.” Yang’s voice wavers. “Do you not want to be around me?”

“No, I do, I just-” Blake sighs, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t want to be a burden for you on a day like that. And you should see your friends.”

Yang is quiet for a moment. “Well, maybe I am,” she says carefully.

Blake turns around. “We’re friends?” she asks.

“Well, yeah.” Yang shrugs. “Unless you don’t wanna be friends, I mean.”

“No, I do! I really do, Yang.” She clears her throat and averts her gaze. “How about we go out to dinner? Celebrate her life and her wonderful daughter.”

Yang laughs, but the sound cracks briefly. “I’d like that.”

“Then tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

~~~

“No painting today?” Blake asks, slipping off her shoes as she enters Yang’s. Yang is wearing a jumpsuit the same color as her eyes, and there’s golden earrings cascading down onto her shoulders. She looks fancy. She looks good, and Blake can’t take her eyes off of her.

“Nope,” Yang says, smiling. “I wanna show you something.”

“Alright?”

Yang leads her to the upstairs with the actual kitchen and living room, spaces she’s practically lived in for the past few months. There’s a laptop open, which Yang silently slides to her. Blake raises her brows, but she reads the article title, and her heart stops.

“It’s not published yet,” Yang says, the words distant. “I wanted to surprise you but show you first.”

XIAO LONG’S ANGEL the title reads, and Blake silently scrolls through the unpublished article. There’s pictures of paintings, and she instantly knows they’re the paintings Yang did of her.

There’s none of her face. Nothing that could identify her. But there’s more of her hands, reaching and praying and receiving. There’s her silhouette in golden light, and she seems to be breathing and moving. There’s her bare shoulders and back, and there’s sharp golden shards of wings growing from her body. There’s her mouth curled in a smile and soft and shining, pink and rosy. There’s her dark hair cascading down her back as she reaches for something out of frame.

Pieces of her, and not. This isn’t her. She’s too broken to be this beautiful.

“Blake?” Yang asks, and that bright smile fades.

Blake wrenches her gaze from the laptop and stares down at her hands, her eyes hot. She’s not that, she can never be that. “That’s not me,” she says hoarsely, her voice shaking. “That’s not me, Yang.”

“It’s how I see you,” Yang says, her words a burning balm. “It’s you, Blake.”

Her throat closes up. “I’m not-”

“You are beautiful,” Yang says firmly. “You are beautiful and kind and amazing. And this is how I see you.” Yang hesitates, but she hands Blake a wrapped box. Her stomach turns, but she can’t stop herself from opening it with shaking hands.

A broken sob leaves her mouth. It’s her eyes.

Blake sets the canvas on the counter and closes her eyes, trying to breathe. “You don’t know me,” she says, and her voice cracks. “I’m not this person you see.”

Yang cups her face and leans down to look her in the eyes. “You are,” she says. “You are.” Her eyes dart to her lips, and Blake’s face flushes. “You are beautiful, and kind, and amazing,” Yang repeats. Her mouth parts. “And you are worthy, Blake.” Yang thumbs away a tear on her face and smiles sadly. “I just want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

“Yang-” She cuts herself off with a shaky breath. Instead of speaking, she leans into Yang’s touch. Her hands are soft but calloused with her work, but, most importantly, they’re Yang’s hands. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispers, but she still reaches back for Yang.

Yang smiles, and there’s tears in her lilac eyes too. “Yes, you do.”

She isn’t sure which one of them leans forward, if one or both of them do, but Yang’s mouth is on hers, and she can’t think. She doesn’t want to think beyond Yang. So Blake keeps her eyes closed and kisses her back, her hands grabbing onto Yang and not letting go.

Blake doesn’t deserve Yang. But Yang thinks she does, and maybe that can be enough. Maybe that will be enough, and Blake can love her. She doesn’t know, and there’s no way to know. But for the first time in months, in almost a year, she feels hope being sketched into her chest.

#rwby #bumbleby #my writing #answered prompt

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zambie-trashart · 4 years

Text

Land of The Free and the Home of the Wayne 2

Part One

Clearing up some ages: Jon 14, Mar’i 13, Damian 17, Class 15-16 (Marinette and Adrien are both 16 tho)

...................................................

A man stepped out of a bunch of black haired boys who were standing on the front stairs and cleared his throat.

“Hello students, my name is Bruce Wayne and I will be your host for the duration of the stay. these are my sons and my granddaughter. They all felt the need to come back home for those who have dared to leave the nest.” The last remark was pointed at one boy who looked up mock hurt.

“I get it B, you want me to move out but everything is so free here,” the boy complained and another was holding hands with a woman and started laughing at his brother’s anguish.

“Jason, I think Bruce actually planned this speech,” another boy said bumping the first boy who must have been Jason in the ribs.

“Will you two shut up and let father finish his speech?” another boy pushed the other two apart.

The class just stared at all of them in wonder.

“I guess you boys deserve an introduction, these are my sons Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. This is Dick’s fiance and daughter Kory and Mar’i. Alfred would you show them around?” Bruce asked already looking just about done with this field trip.

There was another boy sitting further up the stairs looking down and playing with the sleeves of his sweater.

“Where did Master Jonathan go Master Damian?” Alfred asked the youngest boy in the group.

“I don’t know I tried to put a bell on him but then he just got distracted by it,” Damian said and the boy in the back stood up rolled his eyes and started walking down the stairs only to trip on the last one and Damian reached out and caught him the wrist without even having to look.

“Thanks Dami!” Jon said dusting himself off.

“Why am I friends with you again?” Damian asked and Jon just laughed before looking out at the class.

“Hi, I’m Jon Kent.” Jon waved at the class and Alya just took a picture of her idol’s kid who happened to be standing right in front of her single and bashful. This could be her chance.

“Wow no one did the thing, this is an improvement from last year,” Jason said nudging Tim and then there was a squeal from the back.

“OH MY GOD YOUR MOM KNOWS SUPERMAN AND YOUR DAD KNOWS BATMAN!” someone shouted from the back. Jon covered his ears wincing slightly and Damian just glared and took Jon inside.

“You couldn’t have said nothing?” Tim asked trying to stop his ears from bleeding.

“Alright class, let’s follow Alfred to see our rooms.” The students walked inside following the butler to their assigned rooms.

Tim fell to the ground out cold and Jason just laughed pointing. Jason may or may not have put tranquilizer in his coffee that morning.

“Did Tim just die?” Mar’i asked her dad who shook his head at Jason’s behavior.

Damian and Jon started walking up the stairs toward the direction of their rooms but Jon just tugged on Damian’s arm and nodded in toward the guest room wing. Dick had just walked in and saw them sneaking off.

“If you two start spying on the class I will be... and they’re gone.” Dick just sighed.

They stood outside the first room and heard giggling.

“Jon was totally into me and Lila you’re so lucky to have Damian as a boyfriend,” one girl said and another laughed along with her.

“Oh yeah Dami made sure that our class won and I could totally talk Jon into asking you out. The chemistry was totally there right Rose?” the girl who had to be Lila asked.

“Yeah, I could feel it!” Jon’s eyes started glowing red and Damian pulled him to the next room. There were three girls in there too one was crying and the other two were comforting her.

“Come on Marinette this field trip is supposed to be fun you can’t just cry the whole time!” a blonde girl said and the other nodded along.

“I only came here to meet Jon cause I think he’s my pen pal but I didn’t know it was going to be him, I mean Alya’s obsessed with him,” Marinette said crying and Jon just wanted to go and hug the girl that he had been talking to for months but Damian shook his head and pulled him to the next room which had three boys.

“Oh please, Jon Kent came out a year ago so Alya’s crazy if she thinks that she’s going to date him. You on the other had have an actual chance,” a boy in a baseball cap said laughing.

“He’s cute though,” a boy with blonde hair started laying in his bed, “you know how I get around cute guys.”

“He’ll probably be nervous when he sees you too, you’re a model Adrien and he is kind of adorable in that nerdy sort of way but that just means that you should ask him to show you around or something,” a red-head said sketching on his bed.

“You don’t like hi...”

“No Adrien I’m dating Marc,” the red-head responded patting the other on the shoulder.

Jon stared and Damian pulled him to the next room which had three more boys.

“I bet you could ask Mar’i out, she’s like only two years younger than you dude.”

Yeah Jon had to pull himself and Damian away from that room before either of them went explosive to protect their friend. They made it to Damian’s room before Damian grabbed a piece of paper and started writing.

“It seems like we have four missions for the duration of the field trip, do not let that kid get near Mar’i, get you a date, cheer up that Marinette girl who seems to be your pen pal, and prove a liar wrong,” Damian said and Jon nodded smiling.

“Wait what was that date part?” Jon asked blushing.

“What date part?” Damian asked back holding out his hand to signal that this was a real mission and Jon took it.

“Let’s show them how we work in the land of the free and the home of the Wayne.”

......................................

JPS: @loveswifi @ash-amg @thatonecroc @wannajointhecrabcult @toodaloo-kangaroo @mochegato

#jon kent #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x damian #damian wayne #protective damian #jon protection squad #jon x adrien #mar'i grayson #adrien agreste #gay adrien agreste #gay jon kent #dick grayson #dick x kory #jason todd #tim drake #bruce is done #bruce wayne

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the-odd-job · 3 years

Note

What is your step by step drawing process like, if you don't mind my asking?

I'll just use Sunstealer as an example since he's the most recent thing I did. Under the cut because this is horridly long. You wanted step by step, I’ll give you step by step.

That is a threat.

And every step of the way I use a sharp pen with high pressure sensitivity and a sharp eraser with high pressure sensitivity, unless stated otherwise.

1. Alright, sketch first of all. I pick a whatever color, set a folder to multiply, and add layers in it. I start with the face/helm and take moderate care with making it look decent.

2. From there I sketch the rest of the the pic, preferably very loosely. I aim to not lift the stylus from the pad very much and instead just SCRIBBLE lines into the vague shape I'm after.

3. Set the sketch folder’s opacity real damn low, like somewhere under 10%, create a new folder, set it to multiply, and this is where the horrid amount of layers and layer folders I use comes in. But, you can see I actually did a second sketch of the arms (and legs, though that isn’t visible here) ‘cause I couldn’t make them look right based on my initial sketch.

4. On top of my second sketch I draw the rest of the clean lines. The lines were drawn with this purplish color, btw. I use something akin to it pretty often in my lineart.

5. After all that I use the Auto Select tool to select everything outside my lineart, e.g. everything I don’t want to have color. I then invert the selection and lay down my flats. At this point I used the gold as my base color, but then added separate folders for each following color, clipping them to the gold base layer below. In the case of black, its folder has a whole bunch of layers while I tried to figure out what parts to color black. With layers for the different parts, I can just click them on and off to see what things look like with or without them.

6. Okay, now to the meat of things. I use a correction layer (hue/saturation/luminosity in this case) to change the base gold to a far darker color that I can easily edit later without losing my initial color choice, and create a new layer on top of all my colors, set it on multiply, and in this case used a sort of peachy color to add my first shadows on top of the whole entire picture. At this point the exact colors in use don’t matter one bit, though, as long as you see what you’re doing.

7. I create a second multiply layer on top of the last one, and go over the whole thing again, adding deeper shadows, this time using bright red. But again, color doesn’t matter yet. I like contrast too, so you can see some areas turn almost black.

8. Shinies! We add our first Add (Glow) layer (that can be named differently in other programs, in SAI it was just “Luminosity”). Once again, color doesn’t matter, just as long as you see what you’re doing, but I was working with about the same peach I used on my first multiply layer. And how I add the shines is basically just color the glow over the whole area, then use the eraser in sweeping and circling motions to remove parts of it. I don’t treat each plate/portion separated by lines individually, because then you’ll just end up with mismatched areas that don’t communicate with each other at all and just fight. (Remember to erase the shine from over your shadows too. Auto Selecting the shadows and erasing the glow from the selected area is a good trick.)

9. More shinies! This time we want it to show up as a bit lighter/brighter than our previous shiny. Using a brighter color or higher opacity does the trick. I do the same thing of coloring large areas and erasing shapes out of them afterwards, but this time I make it argue with my first glow layer a bit. Some overlap is good, but I also want them to live their own lives. (I included a view of the second glow layer alone, but I worked with both glow layers visible.)

10. We now have two multiply layers and two glow layers. What we also have, is a base color (gold) and separate folders for every subsequent color (black, face, insignia in this case. And optic, but let’s not touch that yet). We now copy our two multiply layers and two glow layers, and move copies of them into each folder (sans optic) and clip them to the base layer in that folder. We move copies of the multiply and glow layers right over our base layer too, below our other color folders. (I deleted the glow layers from the “face” folder because I don’t want the face to be as shiny, and the multiply layers from the “insignia” folder because there’s actually no shadow over the insignia.) We can make our original multiply and glow layers invisible so they’re not messing things up, and what we should have is... The same exact thing as in step 9. Wow.

11. Now we actually make it look good! Though let’s just color the optic while we’re at it so it’s not all empty. Anyway, this is the stage where we really start to think about color and opacity. I want a neutral lighting to showcase his colors best, so let’s see how we get that. The thing we’ll just do is use Tonal Correction > Hue/Saturation/Luminosity to change our multiply and glow layers one by one, starting from our first multiply layer. I turn the other multiply and glow layers off so I can see what I’m doing and and tweak the colors until I get something that doesn’t scream “interesting lighting”, because I want neutral lighting.

12. Then I go through all of the layers one by one and do the same thing to each of them. The reason I have them each on separate layers is exactly this, that I can affect all of the drawing’s colors individually and make them look just as I want to and always have the option of just going back and easily editing things. I also add a glow layer to the face, but with a brush rather than a pen so I get a softer look, buuut then add a second glow layer with a low opacity to add just a little bit of sharp light in there. And now we have a thing! But it looks pretty flat, doesn’t it? We don’t want that.

13. First of all, let’s add some soft glow to the gold. New glow layer below our multiply and other glow layers, choosing a soft color to accentuate the gold, and then using either a brush or airbrush we add just a bit of color in there. Arrows point to the spots where I added it, because we want the effect to be subtle and easy to miss.

14. We can do better than that, though. Let’s add a multiply layer and do the same thing, adding juuuust hints of darker color here and there. It adds a touch more depth, but again, we want it to be easy to miss.

15. Let’s have a look at the black, next. You may have noticed I turned off the second glow layer on it entirely, and that’s because it was decided that the black shouldn’t be as shiny as the gold. We still want to add some life to it though, and because Sunstealer’s black tints towards blue, let’s make some blue happen by adding a glow layer, and again, very softly with a brush or airbrush, add just hints of color in there.

16. It still doesn’t really good though, does it? It’s pretty boring and lifeless despite our efforts. More layers, then! Some fucking edges, this time. A glow layer above all of our existing layers and folders to affect all of them (except optic, ‘cause optic doesn’t need it), take good ol’ bright white, turn the opacity down a bit, and add sharp light to the edges. Like, all the edges that are touched by light. Seams, everything. We want this motherfucker to shine.

17. Okay, now do the same, except this time on the shadows. The layer is on lower opacity and I didn’t use white but desaturated blue instead. Just add a bit of reflected light in there.

18. Slowly getting there, but let’s do a couple more things. First of all, warm color. Basically, I just like to slap a random color on top of the whole damn thing when I’m finishing a drawing, using either a color, a glow, or a normal layer, depending which one gets me the best results that time. Or, all three, if that’s what I feel like. This time I used a color layer with briiiiiight neon orange. I switched the layer to normal and opacity to 100% so you can see where it’s actually applied, which is, again, on top of all the layers. A pretty large area, but even on 100% opacity with a normal layer you can see it’s pretty transparent. If I had wanted to do a more interesting lighting, I would’ve left it more visible and maybe added another similar layer in a different color, but I wanted neutral lighting so we leave it as just a tiny, tiny hint in there.

19. Still not done. Colors reflect other colors, so let’s make that happen on the black and have it reflect our gold some.

20. Almost there. What are we missing? Color correction, that’s what. I didn’t do much of it for this piece, but with some I really play around with correction layers and layers set to overlay and whatnot. But let’s see what we have here. First of all, there’s one brightness/contrast correction layer affecting the gold only, increasing the contrast so things look a bit brighter.

21. There’s also a second brightness/contrast correction layer, this one simply increasing the brightness a bit. It’s mostly for the sake of the black, because I wanted to make it look a bit more blue by making it lighter, but it worked to make the whole image a little brighter along with it. Aside from the optic, that’s still on top of everything else. But like said, how many corrective layers I have going on depends entirely on what I’m doing. In some cases I can have around a dozen in effect, not all of them always affecting the entire image, but split around to do their thing on different layers.

22. But speaking of the optic! It glows, so let’s make it glow with two layers on top of both of the “color” and “lines” folders. One layer is for the blurred red glow, the second is for the sharply reflected light.

23. And for things like these I like a simple background, which I generally do by just using a couple of gradients and altering their color to whatever looks decent. I also often add an outline to the entire character in pieces like this to make the character pop a bit more, by just copying my base color layer and performing gaussian blur on it.

WHEEZE. That’s that, though. Finished product can be viewed here.

Oh, and ctrl+shift and tap will jump you straight to the layer you tapped on. Makes moving between layers and finding the damn layer you wanted to edit a hell of a lot easier.

Annnnnd obsessively naming layers and layer folders so you can tell what the heck they actually are when you have way, way many layers to work with.

*thumbs up*

#asks #anonymous #is that step by step enough #i might've forgotten to mention some layers because there is A Bunch even just for the colors #but i tried to be thorough #but yeah non destructive editing and editability #that's how we get to some overachieving layer counts but make sure we can always go back and always have control

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mama--moth · 3 years

Text

Forever and Always

Chapter 6- The Beach Episode

The next morning, Martha and alcina were standing by the Castle doors, waiting for their three daughters. Both women were wearing beach robes over their swimsuits. They had a few bags of beach stuff. They had never been to the beach before..or this far into the public. It was a scary thought, but Mother Miranda insisted that this would help productivity. They were even given beach stuff that Mother Miranda had obtain from the outside.

"Mother....its too tight!" Cassandra complained.

"Thats because its mine!!" Bela whined. The two went to swap and daniela stood by martha.

"Mum? Why are we going to the beach?" She asked.

"We dont have any duties today...so we invited your uncle heisenberg, uncle Moreau and Ms. Beneviento to the beach...i hear its really warm!" She smiled.

The two rascals soon returned wearing the right swimsuits. The family went to the basement and out through the carriage pickup. They stepped into a insulated carriage and were taken to the beach.

At the beach, Heisenberg was trying to figure out the grill, donna was putting suncreen on angie, and Moreau was already in the water. The girls jumped out and immediately sped over. Bela sat with Donna, Cassandra went to Heisenberg, and Daniela went into the water with Moreau. The two big mamas set up on the beach. People were watching the strange family, moving a bit away. Some groups like a group of younger men moved closer due to the daughters and their hot moms. The women took off the beach robes. It was like a scene out of a movie. Alcina was wearing a connected two piece, the top had bunched fabric like her signature dress that connected to swim shorts. Martha was wearing a bikini with cute heart cutouts on the top and bottom. Both women had stretch marks, but martha seemed embarrassed and alcina didnt give a shit. She kinda hid behind alcina.

"Whatre you doing?" She asked.

"Sunscreen." She said quietly.

"You need the sunscreen to do that hon.." she handed it to her and called her girls in. "Girls! To me! Now!" The three little gothlings scampered over and Daniela dried herself off. They put sunscreen on while martha was putting it on her wife.

"You know i can do this myself love?" Alcina asked.

"I...wanna do it." She said, blushing. The young men watched from afar and their jaws dropped. Martha massaged it into her wifes skin and smiled. When she was finished, she went to apply it on herself but she felt her wifes big hands on her tummy, already at it. She put it on her sides like one would sculpt pottery clay on a wheel. Alcina was very thorough, occasionally making martha let out a small squeak. Her snake tongue split and flicked out.

"Thhhank you sthweetheart" martha said, having a lisp. Her tongue reconnected and she kissed her wife. This blew the young mens' minds.

"Mhm.." alcina was a blushing mess. She really enjoyed caressing her wifes soft curves and...stuff..but she forgot she was in the public eye.

Heisenberg was watching martha with intense jealousy. He very well knew martha liked women, but he was a hopeless fool... he seemed to be daydreaming about her because he didnt notice his hand was on fire.

"Uhm...uncle?" Cassandra poked him. "Your hand.."

"Uhhuh....huh?" He snapped out of it. "Fuck." He put it out.

Moreau was sitting in the water while Daniela was finding shells and bringing them to him. Some of them had crabs in them and he liked to watch them skitter around.

Bela and Donna were essentially making jewelry for each other out of smaller shells.

Martha sat down on a towel. And alcina sat down in the sand, not really minding it. Martha seemed a bit more uneasy with the sand, but soon warmed up to the tiny grains.

"Man i wish i was that towel..." one of the men said, and the rest nodded in agreement.

Martha started to make a sandcastle. Alcina went to get water to make molds with her wife.

"Nows out chance!" The men walked over. "Hey miss...uh...whatre you doing this evening?" Wow. Graceful.

"Well..uh...i guess ill be eating dinner with my wife and fami-" she was cut off

"Well your wife has an amazing rack and you have an amazing ass so-"

"What did you say about my wife?" Martha said, eyes narrowing.

"I was just saying she has a nice set of-"

Marthas eyes dilated and she opened her mouth and her big snake tongue hung out. "I could eat you in one bite you pathhhetic little weasthhhel...." marthas tongue went back in and she looked normal again. "Oh hi sthweetie..." she smiled deviously. Alcina was standing behind them, looking down blankly at them..her claws out.

"Oh hi miss....i...uhm..." they backed up and one of them tripped and fell back onto marthas lap and looked up. She was soft...and if he wasnt so terrified, he would enjoy this moment. They were all trapped..

"You filthy manthings every speak about my wifes hindquarters like its some plaything, i will dice you up and feed you to her.." alcina threatened. Martha stood, causing the man on her lap the fall. Alcina pulled her close and gave her behind a squeeze just to tease these filthy rats... and martha lay her head on alcinas chest, her tounge flicking and grazing it. "I could slice you..."

"I could crush you.."

Now knowing how terrifying these women were, they ran off. The women giggled and watched them panicking and dashing for their cars.

Heisenberg finally got the grill to work with Cassandra's help and started to make burgers. Donna and Bela walked over to the big women and gave them each shell necklaces. With donnas threat and craftsmanship and belas creativity, the two had made very cute necklaces for the family. The big wives were all gushing over this and hugging the two...how embarrassing. They gave one to Salvatore and Dani and Heisen and Cass.

Alcina got more water and helped her wife make a sandcastle that looked like the Castle. Martha looked very happy and alcina did a lil sketch of martha and the sandcastle. Alcina loved drawing martha...and she was great at it too. There were MANY tasteful paintings of martha in a hidden room in the Atelier.

Heisenberg decided to test his luck and strutted over and 'accidentally' kicked the sandcastle over. "Whoops! Sorry doll face" he said to martha. Marthas expression went blank. Something inside of her snapped. Alcina also snapped and stood.

"Oh shit.." heisenberg started to run and alcina moved the fastest she has ever moved in quite a while. Alci chased heisen around until she ran out of breath. She returned to martha who had made a sand sculpture of heisenbergs bust and punched its head and it fell apart. Alcina hugged martha.

"Its okay hon...it was a wonderful sandcastle.." she rubbed her wifes back.

A while pasted and the burgers were done. Everyone gathered and began to eat. Martha and alcina fed each other the meat lovingly. The girls ate and everyone soon went back to their business. Martha seemed to want to go in the water but was nervous. Alcina picked her up bridal style and started walking towards the water.

"A-alcina what are you-" she was suddenly an inch above the water. Alcina was waist deep and holding her right above the water. The water waved a bit and touched marthas lower back making her try to get up more. "Its so cool...."

"Ill ease you into it." She said, droppjng marthas legs in which immediately wrapped around her. Alcina looked down at Martha...she looked nervous. Alci have her a reassuring smile and crounched so they both went down together. Martha seemed much calmer. They splashed and played together for a while. The women were now laying in the sun while their daughters splashed in the water and the other lords were relaxing. Heisen and donna were finishing up any leftovers and sal was in the water. The sun was getting low so they had to leave. They got in the insulated carriage and went home.

When they got home they unpacked and bathed, washing the outside off of them and getting ready for bed. The younglings were still full of energy and their mothers let them stay up a bit. Martha and alcina put their necklaces on display and sat in bed in their nightgowns. Alcina took her sketchbook out and started to sketch martha, who was laying there on the bed reading a book with her cute reading glasses on. She looked up and blushed. "Must you?" She chuckled.

"I have to capture this moment..." she smiled. "Althought i cant to the real thing justice...." she teased.

"Oh hush you..." she said.

"Can I paint you tomorrow?" Alcina asked. She had a sort of obsession with painting. Her wife was a wonderful subject too.

"Sure...but go to sleep.." she kissed her and laid down. Alcina stayed up a bit to draw her but eventually went to sleep.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina x oc #martha sinclaire #resident evil

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zacc-attacc · 3 years

Text

Nature: A Javid Oneshot

A/N: My first ever oneshot on this website! I hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count- 1.2k

Jack loved the open sky. He loved the stars, the sounds of nature, and everything in between. But, more than anything, it calmed him, something that not many things were able to do. As a kid, he had always dreamed of falling asleep under the stars every single night. And when he was bounced around in foster care, the night sky had been the one common variable. Always there, like a blanket. Luckily for Jack, Some of the Newsies had put together a camping trip in the woods near campus. They had tents (from the Dollar Tree, probably), a bunch of marshmallows, some hotdogs, and a whole lot of energy. And Jack? Jack an invite and a limited will to live. At least Davey would be there, which, to be honest, had its ups and downs.

Ups, because Davey was single-handedly the sweetest human alive and a fun dude to hang out with. And downs, because Davey was Mom Friend Supreme™ and also had an annoying tendency to make Jack’s normally stoic heart do a tap dance in his chest. Which really was inconvenient because Jack’s last relationship had ended only four weeks ago. It wasn’t a nasty breakup, he and Katherine were actually still friends, but the boys still expected him to be depressed about it. But Jack didn’t like to linger. He was upset for a few days, but now he was over it. Katherine obviously was as well, since she was seen going on a few coffee dates with some girl.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, he could be whoever he wanted to be because that’s just how it was with the Newsies.

Tonight, he could eat bargain hot dogs and s’ mores, and avoid the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the only man he couldn’t have; because god forbid David Jacobs dated a mess like him.

Jack knew exactly where he lay in David’s mind. He was a close friend, maybe a sort of Uncle to his future children with his perfect little life with his husband in the suburbs. David liked him well enough, but he would likely never love him. And Jack had tried to accept that, even though, thus far, it had only made it much worse.

“Ay! Jack! You packed?” Crutchie yelled from his lower bunk. Jack was stretched out on the top bunk, staring at a half-finished political cartoon for his class.

“Yeah… What time’d the guys say to be there?” Jack sat up, hitting his head on the low ceiling. He wasn’t even that tall and it managed to injure him on a daily basis.

“...In five minutes.”

“Shit-” Jack muttered, scrambling to jump down the bunk, only succeeding in hitting his head yet again on the ceiling. After hitting the floor in the heap, all Jack could hear was Crutchie’s cackles.

“Just kidding, It’s actually in 20- I just wanted to see your reaction,” Crutchie wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Yeah, real funny, Crutch,” Jack mumbled, rolling his eyes and smiling. As much as he loved his little brother, he, unfortunately, knew exactly how to get Jack riled up quite easily, which normally ended in Jack running into a wall or stabbing himself in the arm with a pen in a panic.

“S’funny to me,” Crutchie choked out, still laughing. Jack pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the assorted chip crumbs that had migrated from the shitty shag carpeting of his dorm onto his shirt.

“I know, I know,” Jack muttered, grabbing Crutchie’s crutch from the wall and handing them to him. Looking at his laughing face, Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Alright, let’s get a move on… You ready?” Jack shook his head while still grinning, snatching his duffle bag and Crutchie’s backpack from beside the door.

“Ay! I can carry that!" Crutchie protested, making a grab at the bag.

“Wow, brother dearest, won’t even let me carry a bag,” Jack joked, sticking out his tongue and popping into a dead sprint down the hallway.

“NOW THAT’S JUST UNCALLED FOR!” Crutchie yelled from the hallway.

“LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU, STUPID HEAD!” Jack shouted back, slamming open the door for the stairs and sliding onto the railings down the flights. Once he reached the bottom, he pulled out his phone.

“Text RaceyBoi.”

“What would you like to say?” that stupid automated voice asked back, not fully human or robotic.

“‘Can you go walk Crutchie to the campsite? Left him for CPS reasons.’” CPS was not, in fact, Child Protective Services, but instead Crutchie Protection Squad.

Smiling to himself, Jack started walking towards the woods on the outskirts of campus. He thought he saw Kid Blink and Spot at one point, Heely-ing towards the woods. He couldn’t help but wonder how the wheels would hold up amongst all the vegetation, and quietly hoped he wouldn’t have to call an ambulance tonight.

“Hey, Jack!” came a familiar voice from behind him. His heart automatically deciding to kick into overdrive, Jack turned around to see none other than David Jacobs, grinning and clutching a duffle bag.

“Whaddup, Dave,” Jack grinned back, clapping the taller boy on the shoulder. Seriously, who gave him the right to be this tall? He was like a noodle with a head and arms.

“You heading down to the campsite?” Davey asked, falling into step with Jack.

“That’s the plan. Race is taking Crutchie so that idiot won’t try to carry his backpack again.”

“...You realize he can carry it perfectly fine, right?” Davey said, looking slightly confused.

“Yeah, but I just feel like doin’ something nice for him, y’ know?”

“You may be stupid at times, but you are a good brother, Jack Kelly,” Davey chuckled, taking off his hat and flipping it backward.

“Ey, now don’t get to tellin’ the boys that, I have a reputation as a jerk to keep,” Jack couldn’t stop smiling. Why couldn’t he stop smiling? He felt like someone had turned him into the fucking sun from the Teletubbies.

“I don’t think you could pass as a jerk if you tried,” Davey shrugged, looking into Jack’s eyes so he could get the point across. God, his eyes were brown. Beautiful, chocolatey, perfect brown.

“You would be surprised,” Jack said, tearing his eyes away.

Don’t let yourself get attached, dammit.

“Hey,” Davey stopped. Jack stopped too, staring at him. He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“Don’t… Don’t talk like that. I know you, Jackie. Okay? And you aren’t an asshole.”

“Jeez, David, only a few minutes into the trip and you’re already on the late-night talks-” Jack turned away, hoping Davey couldn’t see that he was blushing.

“I need to hear you say it, okay?” He turned Jack around, forcing him yet again to look into his eyes.

“Fine. I… I ain’t an asshole. Ya happy?” Jack bit his tongue forcefully. That almost physically pained him to say.

“Yeah. I… I’m sorry Jack,” Davey said. Jack still wasn’t looking at him.

“Don’t apologize for caring, Davey.”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was late. The shitty fire that had taken them almost a full hour to make was burning low, and Jack had to keep prodding it with a random stick to keep it lit. Most of the boys had already retired to their tents and sleeping bags, and Davey was fast asleep on his chair. Race was the only one still out.

“Do you think we should wake him up?” Race said, tossing the remains of his s’more into the fire.

“What? Oh, nah, I’ll wake him up when I head in. Poor kid, being a pre-med student probably never sleeps,” Jack pointed out.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying out?” Race asked, standing up and stretching.

“‘Till I get tired,” Jack prodded the fire again, before throwing in another stick.

“Then he’ll be out here all night,” Race joked, cracking a smile.

“I’ll wake him up before then. Wouldn’t want him to get hypothermia or some shit.”

“It’s the middle of April, I highly doubt he’ll get hypothermia, Jack.”

“...Did Racetrack Higgins seriously just say an educated statement?”

“Goodnight-” Race turned away suddenly, seeming intent on changing the subject.

“YOU CAN’T CHANGE IT NOW, WE KNOW YOU’RE SMART,” Jack whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake any of the boys up (especially not Davey).

Race replied with his silence.

Sighing, Jack sat back in his chair. Not having any will to sleep, and nothing more to do, he grabbed out his sketchbook. Nature was always good for inspiration.

Well, it could’ve been nature, or it could’ve been Davey. Because, without even realizing it, Jack had started to sketch the sleeping boy’s figure. His right fist was supporting his cheek, his hat was half-tipped onto his face, shading it slightly. His legs were crossed, and his left arm was set on top of them.

Behind him was a backdrop of pine trees, and, even though that wasn’t the actual view, a full moon, and stars. So many stars. All spelling out little words of love in Spanish, Jack’s first language.

Precioso. Bonita. Perfecto.

His hair was mostly tucked under his cap. His eyes were softer when he slept. A ghost of a smile played at his lips.

Increíble.

Perfect.

Just as Jack was signing his name and dating the piece, Davey began to stir.

Quickly shutting the book, Jack simply stared up at the stars he could see despite the light pollution and thick trees.

“Hey, Jack, saw you drawing there,” Davey said, quietly.

“Oh- uh- yeah, just… lookin’ through some old pieces,” Jack stammered.

“Can I see?”

“Uh- no, this isn’t my graded stuff, it’s all just sketches-“

“Y’know, for an art student, you really don’t like showing your art.”

“Uh- Fine.” Jack gave up and strode across the fire to hand him the book. It was mostly drawings of the boys, maybe he wouldn’t look that far.

...Spoiler alert, he looked that far.

“...Is this me? Right back then, when I was sleeping?”

“Uh-“

“You really made me look better than I’ve ever seen myself.”

“Well, that’s how I see you,” Jack said before he could think about his words. Y’know, like a normal person who is trying to hide a massive crush that could end one of his best friendships.

“Th-that’s… how you see me?” Davey was blushing now. Blushing. Not disgusted.

“Uh… yeah. Y’see here, th-the moon behind ya, the way it… it focuses on you.” Jack said, kneeling by his chair and pointing to it.

You are digging your own grave, Jack Kelly.

“Jack, I… that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Davey was still blushing. He turned his face to Jack’s. He was so close…

“Well… I draw what I think, Dave, ‘cause words… they ain’t my strong suit,” Jack chuckled, pulling back. But Davey leaned forward.

“Your drawings don’t need words, Jack. But the artist of them… That is a man that deserves millions of words said about him.”

“D-Davey… Don’t. Please, don’t do this,” Jack shook his head, standing back up.

“Did I make you uncomfortable? I- I’m sorry, I thought that we-“

“No, David. You didn’t. That’s the exact issue! D-d’ya really think I want to end up breaking your heart? We… We can’t do this, ‘cause it’ll end with me hurting you just like I have a million people! And you don’t deserve that fate! You’re too good for me, David,” Jack might’ve been crying. He wasn’t sure. But he sure as hell was ranting.

“Jack-“

“Don’t Jack me, don’t try to act like it could be any different. We know exactly how this is going to end, and I- I can’t stand losing you, Dave.”

There was a moment of silence. It was obvious Davey was picking his next words carefully.

“You won’t.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You won’t because I won’t let it, Jack Kelly. I won’t let you lose me as a friend, ever. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“Da-“

In two strides, Davey crossed the circle of chairs and shut Jack up with a kiss, half-crushing him with how tightly he was holding him.

He did this… this thing that made it obvious this wasn’t his first kiss. The way he moved his head up and down just a little bit. The way he seemed all in but ready to pull away if they needed to at any second.

But more than anything, there was a definitive Davey-ness to him that made it all perfect.

So Jack had found one more reason to like nature. It was where he shared his first-ever kiss with his boyfriend, David Jacobs.

#javid #javid fanfiction #jack x davey #jack kelly #newsies #david jacobs #racetrack higgins #newsies the broadway musical #musicals #musical fics #oneshot #dice writes

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vgckwb · 3 years

Text

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 59: A Deeper Look

On Thursday, Ren got a message from Yusuke.

Yusuke: Pardon me, but do you think we could go to Mementos, just the two of us?

Ren: That’s an unusual date spot.

Yusuke: Ah! Forgive me. I wasn’t asking you out on a date.

Ren: ...I know...I was just teasing you…

Yusuke: Ah. Forgive me. I’m not used to being “teased”.

Ren: I can tell…

Yusuke: So, you forgive me?

Ren: Sure.

Yusuke: Very well.

Yusuke: So, is that a ‘yes’?

Ren: I guess…

Ren: Why just the two of us?

Yusuke: This isn’t meant as a proper traversal of Mementos.

Yusuke: Rather, I’d like to sketch Mementos if possible.

Yusuke: I would like to make it the focus of my next art piece.

Ren: So why am I coming?

Yusuke: Just for backup, if need be.

Yusuke: While we aren’t going in fully, I imagine shadows might pop up.

Ren: Yeah, that makes sense.

Yusuke: Plus, it gives us a chance to get to know each other better.

Ren: Right.

Ren: Let’s go!

Yusuke: Hold on, where are we meeting?

Ren: The usual spot, I guess.

Yusuke: Very well.

Ren and Yusuke met up and headed into Mementos.

They didn’t venture terribly far before Yusuke found a good place to begin his sketchwork. Ren began her patrol. “So,” Yusuke started asking, “how does this ‘teasing’ work?” Ren seemed confused. “I find it better to work when something else is occupying my time. Besides, one of the reasons I asked you was so that we can get to know each other better.”

“Right,” Ren said, somewhat awkwardly. “So, you wanna know about teasing?”

“Yes,” Yusuke said.

Ren was stunned. “Basically, it’s just saying things in a jokey, lighthearted tone to get a reaction.”

“Why do you do that?” Yusuke asked bluntly.

Ren continued to be stunned. She didn’t know how to react to someone with Yusuke’s disposition. So, she decided to remain honest. “Well, part of it is it’s fun, but mainly it acts as a barrier. A wall. A mask.”

“Hm,” Yusuke said. “I thought we were supposed to be getting closer.”

“We are,” Ren said. “I don’t do it all the time. Even now, I’m opening up to you.”

“Right, but why do it at all?” Yusuke pondered.

Ren paused for a moment. Any attempt at obfuscation would be met with more of Yusuke’s personal brand of blindness. In a way, it made a better wrecking ball than any aggressive attempt to break her. She sighed. “Well, you know I’m not from Tokyo originally.”

“Right” Yusuke answered.

“Back in my hometown, I wasn’t all too well liked,” Ren explained. “So, I put up these walls because I’m afraid. I’m afraid the next person I run into will hate me outright simply for just existing. If I pretend not to care, then maybe they won’t. And maybe I won’t either.”

“Huh,” Yusuke said. “I think I understand.”

“You do?” Ren asked.

Yusuke nodded. “There were plenty of times when I lived with Madarame where all I wanted to do was cry, or scream, or get upset, but I eventually grew to know that that would only make things worse.”

Ren was shocked. “Jeez. When you put it like that, my problems seem a little more trivial.”

“Ah, rest assured, I wasn’t trying to trivialize your problems,” Yusuke said.

“...Thanks?” Ren responded.

“Rather, I was trying to hearken back to our delicious hot pot celebration,” Yusuke explained. “Everyone was sharing their views on the world, and how that they’re all askew from the typical outlook. But in that askewed view, we found each other, and more importantly, we can save each other, and everyone else.”

Ren was once again stunned, but not out of confusion this time. Rather, she was impressed. She chuckled. “Thanks.” She looked at Yusuke’s sketch. “Um, if you don’t mind, why do you sketch?”

“It’s to get a reference so I can focus and take my time on the finished product” Yusuke answered.

“Right,” Ren said, running right back into Yusuke’s wit. “I mean, when Kosuke made that painting for me, he just took a picture.” Ren took out her phone. “Although I’m assuming our phones don’t function here. Which I guess is a net positive. If someone saw real evidence of all of this, it would cause problems.”

“Ah,” Yusuke said. “Well, that’s just a matter of personal preference. A lot of artists like sketching because it gives a sense of how they work with it right away. Kosuke even sketched a lot, but I’m assuming that this was more of a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, rather than a big plan.”

“Yeah,” Ren said.

Yusuke stopped, took a look at what he had, and said “Alright, I’m finished.” Just then, a bunch of shadows showed up. “What impeccable timing. Joker! Let’s vanquish these foes together!” Ren nodded, and the two fought the shadows. It was an easy victory. “Boy, these shadows do not know how to pick a fight they can win.” He noticed something. “What’s this? It looks like one of those cards we’ve been picking up.”

“You’re right” Ren said, getting a good look at it. “This one’s blank though.”

“Right,” Yusuke said. “Maybe if I…” Yusuke drew on it. “Ah! It became real.”

“Wow” Ren said.

Yusuke thought about this. “Perhaps the fact that this is a world based on what one perceives, maybe by drawing on it, it gives it real power.”

“That makes sense,” Ren said. “If I find any more, I can give them to you. It works out for us, plus I assume this’ll be a nice way of keeping your sketching skills up.”

“Hm. A real Theo now, aren’t we?” Yusuke said.

“Um, that’s not my name…” Ren said.

“Ah. I should explain” Yusuke said. “When I say ‘Theo’ I am referring to Theo Van Gogh, the brother of Vincent. Vincent didn’t achieve fame in his lifetime, but found a supporter in his brother.”

“I see,” Ren said, impressed. “Well, if you ever need help with your art stuff, or anything in general, then I’ll be happy to be your Theo.”

“Thank you,” Yusuke said.

I am thou... Thou art I… Thou hast acquired a new vow...

It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.

With the birth of the Emperor Persona I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.

Emperor-Yusuke Kitagawa: Rank 1

“We should get going before any more shadows show up,” Yusuke said. Ren nodded, and the two quickly left Mementos.

Later that evening, Ren headed over to Untouchable to stock up. “Hey kid,” Iwai said, literally a split second after she walked in. “What impeccable timing.”

“I take it something happened?” Ren inquired.

“Well, something’s about to,” Iwai stated. “I’ve told you about Tsuda.”

“He’s the one you didn’t meet in the diner?” Ren asked, just to get her facts straight.

Iwai nodded. “He called me to set up a meeting soon.”

Ren was concerned. “Is that a good thing?”

Iwai grunted. “I doubt it, based on what we heard at the diner. Besides, out of everyone in the clan, Tsuda and I were the closest. We were practically inseparable. I know him like I know the back of my hand, and I know he’s up to something.”

“So, what happened when you, well, separated?” Ren asked.

Iwai smirked. “I asked him to come along too to be like an uncle to Kaoru, but he refused. He did help smooth things over with the higher ups though.” Ren chuckled slightly. “Hm. Anyways, let’s get back to business. I’d like to see what he’s up to, but the problem is Tsuda knows me just as well, so I can’t collect any information from my usual sources without tipping my hand.”

Ren smiled. “This is where I come in.”

“Sharp” Iwai complemented. “Tsuda knows ME quite well, but he has no idea about you. You’re my wild card.”

“They don’t call me ‘Joker’ for nothing” Ren said, a bit too excited.

“What?”

Iwai was still confused, but decided to let it go. “Anyway, I just need you to ask around about anything big Tsuda’s done recently. “ He took out a piece of paper. “He’s a list of people who might be in the know; their general description, as well as where they’re likely to hang out. Can you investigate to see if you can find anything?”

Ren was a bit put off, because the last time she went investigating about a mobster, a former police officer got brainwashed into enacting murderous justice as his favorite superhero. Well, that’s not gonna happen twice in a row. Ren grabbed the list.

“Thanks kid,” Iwai said. “I’ll be here. You know my number. If anything happens, don’t hesitate to call, and if you get into REAL trouble, put me on speaker.” Ren nodded and headed out.

Ren searched around and found a scruffy looking guy hanging about. He matched one of the descriptions, so she approached him. “What do ya want?” he said, slightly angry at her approach.

Ren remained brave. “I’m looking for information on Tsuda.”

“Tsuda?” the guy said. “Who put you up to this?”

“That’s on a need to know basis” Ren said.

The man was curious, but concerned. “You with the cops?”

“Please,” Ren said. “I don’t trust the cops farther than I can throw them.”

The man laughed. “That's REAL disdain in your voice. Alright. You didn’t hear this from me, but apparently at the beginning of the year he struck a deal with the Hong Kong mafia for about 100 million yen.”

“Oh my” Ren said.

“That’s all I know,” the man said.

Ren nodded. “Thanks.” She took out some money. “For your efforts.”

“Heh. Keep it” the man said. “I’m a lost cause. You look like you can still climb out of whatever hole you’re in.” Ren was surprised, but walked off, nodding in appreciation.

Once she got back, she saw Iwai was on the phone. “Uh huh...yeah...of course...seeya then.” He hung up. He took notice of her. “Ah, you’re back. Find anything?”

“Something about a deal with the Hong Kong mafia worth 100 million yen at the beginning of the year,” Ren answered.

“I see,” Iwai said. “Say, did you have to pay for that? Cause I’ll reimburse you.”

Ren shook her head. “I tried, but he told me to keep it.”

“Woah, you talked to HIM?” Iwai said, surprised. “How’d you get him to talk to you?”

“He said I had ‘real disdain’ in my voice,” Ren explained.

“Makes sense” Iwai rationalized. “You told me you were arrested. I doubt that leaves much room in your heart for liking the police.” Ren shook her head. “Anyways, that was Tsuda on the phone. He just finalized the date of our meeting. So, maybe it’d be a good idea to not come around here too often for extended periods of time.”

Ren smiled. “Well then, mind if I do all of my shopping now?”

“Knock yourself out,” Iwai said. “But not really though. While they aren’t real weapons, they’re still kind of heavy.” Ren giggled. Ren proceeded to make her purchases. After Ren finished shopping, Iwai sighed. “Tell me, do you fear the unknown?”

Ren was alerted. “Where is this coming from?”

“It’s just,” Iwai sighed again, “I’ve known Tsuda for a while now. But ever since I left the mafia, we’ve grown apart you know. I’m just worried that the man I’m going to talk to won’t be the same.”

Ren could sense his tension, and decided to be honest. “Well, sorry, but you’ve asked the wrong girl for advice on this.” Iwai looked at her, surprised. “Aside from people I’ve met in Tokyo, I would LOVE to meet someone I’ve known for a while and not recognize them.”

Iwai got a laugh out of that. “I’ve been there before. That’s part of why I joined up in the first place. But then the whole thing with Kaoru happened, and I decided that he needed an honest shot. And if no one else was going to give it to him, I might as well try.”

He looked over Ren “Sounds like Tokyo is giving you an honest shot too. If you want my advice, figure out what’s really important before it’s too late. Once you know what that is, don’t let go.”

“How will I know what that is?” Ren asked.

“Heh” Iwai chuckled. “From what I’ve seen, you’re a smart kid. I’m sure you have something of an answer already. I’m just saying this to help you think some more.” Ren chuckled back. “Anyway, once I’ve had my meeting with Tsuda, I’ll message you, or something. Oh, and thanks for the info.”

Hanged Man-Munehisa Iwai: Rank 4

Ren nodded, and left without saying anything else.

#persona 5 #persona fanfiction #persona 5 royal #p5 femc #p5r rework #p5r #p5 rework #p5 #FeMC #female ren #ren amamiya #yusuke kitagawa #iwai munehisa

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 47 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet bombed her design pitch, and Adore and Pearl broke up.

This Chapter: Violet gets a lovely surprise, Aiden gets angrier, and Courtney comforts a friend.

***

“So,” Fame looked over at Raja, leaning back on the green velvet couch. “What do we think?”

Ivy had come by with lunch, two salad containers now sitting half empty on the table. They had received printouts from Ivy with the original couture sketches, whatever samples the designers had handed them, and polaroids of the garments as they looked today.

“About the couture looks?” Raja smiled. They were talking about the Spring collection, but Raja was also finalizing the dresses and roles for Monday’s holiday collection showroom show.

“Mmh,” Fame nodded, fiddling with her thumb, the edge of her manicure looking like it was cracking.

“Who do we want this on?” Raja held up one of Kiara’s holiday designs, the dress a lovely red. “I’m thinking blonde?”

“Good call.” Fame smiled, that particular dress without a doubt ending up in Chad Michaels’ closet. It always got Fame in the best of moods to watch Raja work, her friend at her very best when she was pulling final styles together, her eye for the entire picture unmatched.

“We still need a holiday dress for Raven,” Raja smiled, holding up her fiance's headshot. “Opening or close?”

“Who says she’s getting either?” Fame teased, a laugh leaving her when Raja shot her a look. “I want her closing. She does that very well. Makes everyone feel like spending money.”

“Mmh,” Raja smirked, a proud expression on her face, putting Raven with one of the prettiest dresses in the bunch. It was weirdly romantic how Raja always looked out for Raven, though Fame was sure she’d deny it if she was ever confronted directly.

“Okay,” Raja sat back on the couch, putting her elbow on the back, golden bracelets clacking on her wrist as she rested her head on her hand. “What’s the verdict for couture?”

“Hmm,” Fame chewed her lip, flicking through the folder on her lap. “I think Alexis should open. This sky-inspired piece of hers,” Fame pulled the sketch out, “is lovely.”

“I agree.” Raja nodded. “And closing?”

There were several to choose from, but if Fame was being honest, there was only one that made sense for her.

“What about Violet’s?”

“Violet’s?” Raja sounded genuinely surprised, her eyes widening. “I thought you hated it?”

“What? Why?”

“Because you cut her off?”

“Raj, please,” Fame rolled her eyes. “She was talking my ear off, explaining all these incredibly unnecessary details when her work clearly spoke for itself. It’s very unbecoming to need that much reassurance of a job well done.” Fame pulled Violet’s dress from the folder, the flared sleeve and horizontal beads exactly what Fame wanted.

“Aha.”

“Good.” Fame put it down on the table, not noticing the small smile on Raja’s lips. “We’ll email everyone, and start looking for our exclusive models if we need anyone from overseas-” Fame paused. “Hold on. I have to call Courtney. This manicure is driving me absolutely crazy.”

***

It was always a rare relief when Fame decided to go into Raja’s office for a meeting rather than the other way around, and today was one of those lovely days, Ivy taking care of everything they needed and urging her to go take a real lunch break while she had the chance, that she’d call her back if necessary.

Which for Courtney meant a visit to her favorite department at Galactica: makeup. It was incredible how just walking into their suite made her whole body relax, the bright and sunny creative energy something she absolutely craved. Even the way people dressed was better down here: bright colors and fun patterns and hair every color in the rainbow. Alaska gave her a warm welcome as always, inviting her to sit down and eat with them, even sharing some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, which was a very nice addition to Courtney’s own sad little garden salad.

“You know,” Kim said, wiping her mouth with a napkin as she took in Courtney’s face, eyes squinted as if imagining the way the colors would look, “the Spring Rain palette would look amazing on you.”

“Omigod, it so would! Let’s try it out!” cried Amy, clapping her hands. Amy was the department’s coordinator, and Courtney hadn’t spoken to her much, but based on her electric-blue pigtails and ruffly Lolita dress, she knew she liked her.

“Whaddaya say, Court? Wanna be a canvas for a bit?” Alaska asked.

“Sure!”

Soon, Courtney was sitting in a director’s chair as Kim and Amy went to town on her face.

“Are your eyes green or blue?” Kim asked, tilting her chin this way and that in the bright light.

“Green. But I think in some lights they look blue.”

“Yeah, this cerulean is really picking that up.”

“Try adding a bit of the peacock,” Amy suggested.

“Yes! Good call!” Kim said, picking up the palette again.

Courtney closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of brushes being swiped against her skin, Kim’s movements both precise and certain. It was awhile before Courtney felt any urge to speak again, asking a question that had been on her mind for awhile.

“Um...do you guys know Bianca Del Rio?”

“No, I wish!” Kim chuckled. “She’s such a badass.”

“We have mutual friends. Why?” Alaska smiled curiously, and Courtney suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.

“Well...I don’t know, I was just wondering what you think of her.”

“She’s everything I want to be when I grow up,” Amy piped up, swatching a few lip colors on Courtney’s arm. “She’s supposedly a real ball-buster, but my friend at Marie-Claire says she’s a decent boss. At least, people like working for her.”

“That’s cool,” Courtney said, biting her lip, cheeks growing hot under the lights as she worked up the nerve to ask what she really wanted to know. “What about, um...her...dating history. She’s gone out with a lot of girls, huh?”

“Yeah...she has,�� Alaska replied slowly, exchanging a look with Kim as Amy stepped up to apply the chosen lipstick.

Kim waved a pair of lashes in the air, waiting for the glue to become tacky.

“The thing about Bianca is…” Alaska paused, seemed unsure of whether she should continue, before saying, “She’s not really into relationships. She just doesn’t ever seem to want more than flings. I mean, we’ve crossed paths dozens of times over the years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with the same girl twice.”

“Oh.” Courtney nodded, settling back while Kim applied her lashes, wondering why her heart was pounding so fast.

“But that said, I mean...she does seem to treat people pretty well. You certainly never see girls crying about her in the tabloids, which I think says a lot, considering her...volume.”

“It helps that she’s apparently god-level in bed,” Amy giggled.

“Don’t trust the rumors,” Alaska warned.

“Well, I’ve heard it from someone first-hand, so…” Amy trailed off, giving a suggestive wink before reaching forward to finish the look with a delicate, shell-pink lip gloss, as Courtney tried her best not to squirm in her seat.

“Umm...anyway…” Alaska began awkwardly, when loud buzzing from the table interrupted. “Oh, Court, it’s Fame.”

Alaska handed her the phone, the usual seizing of Courtney’s stomach whenever her boss called telling her that the fun was over.

“Hello?”

“Courtney. I’m done with Raja, and my thumbnail is chipped.”

“Ye-”

Fame hung up before Courtney could respond, leaving her slightly puzzled.

“Thanks guys, this was super fun,” she said, sliding off the chair and grabbing her handbag, knowing she’d be expected to send a memo to design right away, along with apparently finding a manicurist to come to the office? Maybe?

“Wait!” Kim cried, holding up a lighted mirror for her to see the whole look.

“Wow.”

It was certainly a lot more colorful and dramatic than the makeup Courtney normally wore, and for a split second, she let herself imagine that she was backstage getting ready to perform, or on the set of some glamorous photo shoot, before pushing those silly fantasies down and giving Kim a grateful smile.

“Thanks, really, you guys are awesome,” Courtney said, internally lamenting the fact that she had to leave this colorful and fun office to go back to the stark white institutional tension upstairs.

***

From: Courtney A. Jenek To: (undisclosed)

Subject: Spring Runway Selection

MEMO TO GALACTICA DESIGN AND TAILORING DEPARTMENTS

FROM THE OFFICE OF MISS FAME

Please find attached the selected looks for the opening and closing of the Spring runway show, along with the alternates that we are keeping in the show, placement TBD.

Additionally, make sure to note the following upcoming deadlines in relation to the Spring couture collection:

December 5, 7 pm - submission for the rest of the Spring couture runway looks

December 11, 7 pm - final revised Spring couture submissions

December 12 - Selection of final couture looks/alternates

December 14 - Individual designer meetings with tailoring dept

December 18, 11 am - First fitting

January 11, 11 am - Second fitting

***

“Oh...“ Violet couldn’t believe it.

She had clicked on the placement, hoping that her dress would be in there somewhere, Trixie’s promise that nothing would get scrapped completely not enough to reassure her, but there it was, in black and white.

Her first couture look for Galactica was closing the fucking Spring show.

“Holy shit-” Violet whispered, the information not sinking in at all.

She had been chosen, she had done well, she was making the company proud.

Violet was just about to panic, everything so overwhelming, when a second email ticked in.

From: Courtney A. Jenek To: Violet Chachki

Subject: Fwd: Spring Runway Selection

OMG ALKDJALSKDJALDJ IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!11 AKFJSALKFJASLKFJALFSD CONGRATS!!!!!!!111

Violet snorted, Courtney’s excitement radiating through the screen, that message somehow making it real.

From: Violet Chachki To: Courtney A. Jenek Subject: Re: Fwd: Spring Runway Selection

Thanks

***

Aiden closed the door to Trixie’s office firmly behind him, using all the strength in his body not to slam it with full force. He briefly imagined how good it would feel, to be able to make the walls vibrate with all of the rage he felt inside. Instead, he swallowed down all the bitterness and headed to his desk.

It had been an awful meeting, Trixie pulling his typical nice guy act to say that he was “concerned” about Aiden’s “attitude” and wanted to make sure that he was gonna be the right fit for the Galactica team long-term. That he wanted to see more collaboration with the other designers, and as a learning experience, he should be prepared on Monday to assist backstage for the Holiday collection show.

Assist.

Aiden was a designer, not a fucking tailor, not a fucking assistant, and this was going to be a new low. Not to mention that he was already in a foul mood, having seen the selection for the opening and closing Spring runway looks. That new little brat, the baby with no experience, not like Aiden, had been chosen to close the show.

He sat at his chair for almost a minute, saying nothing, just breathing deeply. Before Kiara asked, “Everything alright, dude?”

“Oh yeah. Everything is fucking great!” Aiden snapped, not bothering to stay and take in the stricken look on her face before getting up and marching to the restrooms, where he could at least lock himself in a stall and get a tiny minute of peace and quiet.

***

“Omigod, I’m so happy to see you!” Adore exclaimed, pulling Courtney inside her apartment, over to the sofa. “I stole a bunch of alcohol from Bianca before I left, so I’m well stocked! What do you want?”

“Gin and tonic?” Courtney asked, taking off her coat and settling down against the plush velvety purple fabric of Adore’s sofa.

“Coming right up, ma’am!” Adore exclaimed, walking over to the open kitchen to pour Courtney’s drink.

“So, you seem...how are you?” Courtney ventured, knowing that Adore was probably still in a fragile state, but not wanting to destroy what seemed like a decent mood.

“Well you know… It’s been shit. But I stayed with B all week and she’s like, kinda the best in this situation. She didn’t even gloat over being right.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. I’m glad she took care of you.”

Adore set Courtney’s glass down.

“Yeah, it was nice.”

There was a firm knock on the door, and Adore jumped up again, running to answer.

“Pizza’s here!”

“Pizza?”

“Yeah, I ordered ahead because I knew you’d be working late and you probably haven’t had a real meal all--thank you!” She closed the door, carrying the boxes and a bag over to the coffee table and setting it down with a smile.

It was such a sweet gesture, and Courtney was truly starving, so she almost felt bad reminding Adore, “Um...I’m still doing that vegan thing, remember?”

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, I totally forgot, I-” Adore bit her lip, looking more distraught than was probably necessary, given the circumstances.

“It’s okay, I’ll just pull off the cheese, don’t worry!” Courtney reassured her.

“But you’ve told me like a billion times and I keep forgetting and I’m just the worst friend ever,” Adore sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, it’s okay, really.” Courtney crawled over to Adore, hugging her tightly.

“It’s not. I got you a kale caesar salad too because I know you used to like those but that’s not vegan either. God, what is wrong with my stupid brain?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re human, you make mistakes. It was still so nice of you to get all this.” Courtney pressed a kiss to her temple. “And you know what? I’ve been so strict for a few weeks, I think it’s okay to have one cheat day.”

“Are you sure? We can order Chinese or Thai if you want, or there’s-”

“I’m sure. I came here to try and cheer you up. Not to make you feel guilty.” Courtney snuggled against her, head on her shoulder.

“Okay. We can postmates some vegan gelato for dessert.”

“Perfect.”

Adore sighed, leaning her head against Courtney’s for a moment before sitting up and opening the food. Courtney accepted the plate from her, pulling the cheese off her pizza and shaking up the caesar salad - she decided that she could handle the dressing if she omitted the little container of parmesan.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Courtney looked up at Adore and asked, “Do you want my cheese?”

Adore’s eyes widened, looking down at her plate.

“Yes!”

She took it with such enthusiasm that it made Courtney laugh.

“Was this the plan all along?”

“I wish. I’m not that smart,” Adore told her.

“Yeah you are. You’re very smart. You’re the best.”

Adore held her gaze for a few moments, eyes welling up before the tears spilled down her cheeks. She covered her face, and Courtney shoved the plates aside, laying Adore’s head down in her lap.

Courtney stroked her hair for awhile, letting her cry, not saying anything, tears soaking into her skirt and tights. When her sniffling finally subsided, she asked, “So on a scale of 1 to 10...how much do we hate her?”

Adore rubbed her red, swollen eyes. “That’s the hardest part. I don’t really hate her at all. I mean, I asked her to be honest with me, and she was, and...it just wasn’t what I wanted to hear. So...no, I don’t hate her. It would be too exhausting to hate her.”

Courtney took her hand, holding it tight and solemnly saying, “Okay. Then I’ll hate her for you. So you don’t have to.”

Adore’s face crumbled as her tears began falling again.

“You’re the best friend in the world.”

“No, you are,” Courtney said with a grin. “Come on, let’s go wash your face and order that gelato!”

***

“I just can’t believe that my dress is going out on that runway, like, I was so sure Fame absolutely hated it, and-”

“You don’t need to chop the parsley that finely lovely eyes,” Sutan smiled, stirring the pasta puttanesca sauce they had made together. Sutan wasn’t necessarily the best cook in the world, neither he or Raja ever really picking up on their mothers love of spending time in the kitchen, but he could do a few dishes well, and after seeing Violet’s fridge, he had made it a mission to make sure his girlfriend had a minimum of culinary experience.

“Oh,” Violet paused, looking down at the cutting board. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sutan pressed a quick kiss against her temple, standing side by side in the kitchen surprisingly nice. “I know it’ll be just as amazing as your holiday dress.”

“Please,” Violet smiled, though Sutan could see on her face that she was pleased. He wasn’t going to buy anything at the show, but he was still coming along, both to test one of his newer models, but also because he wanted to see what Violet had created in action.

“I’m serious.”

The sauce was almost done, Violet pulling a face when she had seen him slice up the anchovies, but Sutan was pretty sure that she’d like the dish, if what she tended to gravitate towards could be used as any indication.

“Would you mind setting the table?”

“Not at all,” Violet smiled, putting the knife down, quickly washing her fingers, her jewelry left in the little bowl by the sink that Raja and sometimes Raven had used when they all lived together.

Sutan hadn’t actually noticed it until Violet had dumped her rings into it, the fact that it was there completely escaping his attention, interior design never something that had interested him.

When he had gotten married to Kahmora, he had moved from this apartment directly into her place and back again after their divorce, how she wanted things decorated not anything that had mattered to him in the short time they had been married.

He had never really lived with Jinkx, their relationship thankfully never moving any further than their disastrous engagement, but he was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have been asked about his preferences, shame momentarily curling in his belly at the thought of how unfair and terrible he had been to Jinkx.

“Sutan?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by Violet’s voice, the woman standing by his cabinet with a smile on her face. “Did you buy wine? To have with dinner?”

“I got us a bottle of red.”

“Okay,” Violet nodded, grabbing the wine glasses from the shelf. Juju used to complain when she came over, and had told both Raja and Sutan multiple times that the apartment was furnished for giants, but Violet never had trouble getting anything.

Sutan’s alarm went off, telling him it was time to drain the pasta, Violet handing him two plates so he could serve up their meal, both of them sitting down at the table.

“Do you like it?” Sutan smiled as he watched Violet taste the food, a thoughtful expression on her face as she chewed on it.

“It’s fine.”

“So you hate it?” Sutan lifted an eyebrow, a smirk on his face.

“No!” Violet seemed outraged. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” Violet kicked him under the table, smiling now. “It’s nice.”

“Sure,” Sutan laughed, Violet’s deadpan deliveries still something he was getting used to, her dry humor a lot more enjoyable than he had ever imagined. “Good.”

They ate for a while, chatting back and forth, Sutan refilling their glasses, Violet almost finished with her pasta when she put down her fork.

“I-” Violet looked at him, her teeth biting into her lip. “I’ve been thinking about Aspen?”

“Yes?”

“And I’d like to go.”

“Oh?” Sutan wasn’t aware that it had been something she had been considering, the fact that she was even thinking about turning it down not even crossing his mind.

“Well I’m glad.” Sutan smiled, hiding his confusion. “Mostly because I already booked your plane ticket.”

“Really?” Violet sounded genuinely surprised, almost as if she wasn’t sure if he had been serious about the offer.

“Really, not that I would have forced you to come.” Sutan tapped her foot under the table, Violet still such a mystery to him. “Raven on the other hand,” Sutan smiled. “That could have been a problem, since she’s bought matching everything for you two.”

“... What?”

***

ADORE: Courtney’s a vegan, you know.

BIANCA: Yeah, she told me.

ADORE: I keep forgetting like an asshole so I just wanted to make sure you knew and would have some vegan stuff on thurs

BIANCA: It’s gonna be 100% vegan, I hired a chef to cater. She even making vegan relleno de pavo

ADORE: WAIT WHAT

ADORE: How the FUCK do you make vegan relleno de pavo?

BIANCA: I dunno, but she’s a professional.

ADORE: And what about the corn pudding? IT NEEDS BUTTER

BIANCA: Would you relax? It’ll be delicious

ADORE: WHAT ABOUT THE TURKEY

BIANCA: I don’t eat turkey. You’re outvoted 2 to 1.

ADORE: BIANCA DEL RIO I’VE HAD A VERY TRAUMATIC WEEK! IT’S THANKSGIVING! TURKEY!

BIANCA: I’ll get you a package of fucking Hillshire Farm, calm down

ADORE: I want to be mad at that but I love Hillshire Farm. lol

BIANCA: You’re welcome

BIANCA: Btw you’re also welcome to cook whatever you like and contribute to the meal

ADORE: Um...no thanks

BIANCA: Thought so, cunt

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #vitan #bitney #miss fame #raja gemini #alaska thunderfuck #courtney act #kim chi #violet chachki #aiden zhane #adore delano #bianca del rio #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au

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janette-b · 4 years

Text

Out Of Time - Part 2

Adrien's POV

"I still can’t believe I kissed Marinette, Plagg." Adrien confessed, admiring the ceiling.

"Me neither, kid, me neither." Plagg was nibbling on his love, Camembert as per usual.

"I don't know what got into me, I just… when I saw her eyes, oh they were beautiful and her lips, they felt so soft against mine and-" His admiration of Marinette was interrupted by Plagg.

"Ewh, you don't have to go into detail. Let me eat my cheese in peace." Plagg groaned in disgust.

"The point is I like Marinette. I know we only kissed yesterday but, I’ve known her for years! She had to have felt a connection too, why else would she have kissed me back, right?" He asked rhetorically.

"Really, Adrien? First it's Ladybug, then it's Kagami, and now it's Marinette? Are you ever gonna make up your mind kid?"

"I mean it this time though, I was just trying to get over Ladybug with Kagami, and I don't really have a chance with Ladybug since she says she likes someone else, then there’s the fact that we can't know each other’s identities. With Marinette though, I can talk to her about almost anything, and plus she seems to also like me.”

“So you’ve finally figured it out? You must feel so dumb after how obvious it was.” Plagg cackled.

“What are you talking about, so Marinette does have a crush on Cat Noir?” Adrien seemed in awe at this piece of information.

“Are you serious- ugh forget it. To think I assumed you were smart for once. So, are you gonna ask her to go on a date or what?” Plagg rolled his eyes, disappointed that his owner hadn’t grown out his oblivious ways.

“I can’t, Plagg what if we start dating and it’s all over the news? Especially because she probably tells Alya everything. Knowing her, Alya would post it on her blog as soon as she knew. Hawk Moth is bound to find out and use it to his advantage. I can’t risk putting Marinette or her family in danger like that.”

“Well simple solution, you just ask Marinette to ask her friend to keep it a secret, how hard can it be for you humans to keep your mouth shut?”

“I guess you’re right.. it shouldn’t be a problem asking Marinette this favor. She’s always so considerate, I’m sure she’ll understand. Thanks Plagg.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re planning on going over there right now? I was gonna take a nap.” Plagg grunted, snuggling up to his cheese.

“Guess it’s gonna have to wait then." Adrien shrugged and transformed, while wearing a cheeky grin.

Meanwhile with Marinette

“Can you make the inside fabric comfy?” Tikki asked while Marinette was choosing some fabrics.

“Don’t worry it’ll be fully Tikki-approved.” Marinette replied, wearing a bright smile.

“Thank you Marinette, sometimes I like taking a nap when you’re in class. I even sneak a cookie in from time to time.” She admitted, chuckling.

“No wonder I find crumbs in there. I’m just glad you don’t like Camembert.” Marinette teased while making a smelly gesture.

“At least I eat something normal, All Plagg eats is cheese. I mean I’d understand if it was normal cheese but Camembert? Ugh and I swear if that stinky sock calls me “Sugarcube” one more time I’m gonna explode!” Tikki scowled.

“Oh, so that’s where Cat Noir gets his flirtatious personality.” Marinette chuckled. Just as Marinette was about to continue the purse, she heard a knock on the trap door.

“Speak of the devil.” Tikki giggled, while hiding.

“Oh hey Cat, what are you doing here?” Marinette gently opened her balcony trapdoor.

“I thought I would take you up on my offer from yesterday. You know the one where I help you design and stuff?” Cat asked coyly as she led him into her bedroom.

“Oh… You mean like a- a date?” She blinked in surprise, cheeks suddenly turning pink.

“Only if you want it to be, we could just hang out as friends… if you don’t feel that way-”

“Y-Yes! I would love to go on a date with you.” Marinette burst out, unable to stop smiling.

“Really? Oh thank goodness, I thought I’d be making it awkward if I asked.” He took a breath of relief.

“Awh, was my kitty afraid I was gonna say no?”

“Maybe just a little. Hehe” Cat Noir blushed slightly. “I just thought, well you’re a beautiful girl, Marinette I’m sure there’s plenty of other guys who would like to date someone as great as you.”

“Wow that’s- I… Thank you Cat, that's very flattering.” Marinette suddenly felt self-conscious and simpered. “Anyway.. Uh, I kind of started our date without you. I was actually just about to finish sewing the hems of the inside of my purse together so I could go to the craft store and pick out some leather for the outside of the purse.”

“Oh, okay. How can I help?” Cat Noir asked, unsure of what to do.

“Let’s see… Oh! I know you can sketch out some ideas for what to put on the outside. I was thinking of like a paw print or ooh, maybe a little black cat, Oh wait we could put a cat and then two paw prints on the sides! Hold on, let me get some inspiration from pinterest really quickly.” Cat looked at Marinette as she pulled out her phone, mesmerized by how excited she was getting to make this purse.

“I thought I was the one sketching, or did you decide to leave me empty handed?” Cat Noir teased her.

“Don’t worry kitten, you’ll get your paws on something soon, I just need to make sure you know what you’re doing. You can make a simple drawing, right?” Marinette raised a brow, teasing him right back.

“Of course, I mean I’m more of a musical artist than an actual artist but how hard can it actually be, am I right?”

“You’d be surprised Cat Noir.” She laughed. Marinette began finishing what was left to sew, while also criticizing Cat on his drawing skills. Once finally finishing the inside of the purse, they took a trip to the craft store to get some items for the rest of the purse.

The Craft Store - Cat Noir’s POV

“I think we need to find some silver or gray leather since the cat is gonna be black, I want it to really pop against the background, ya know?” She clarified as they strolled around the fabric isles together. She looked so comfortable in this place, and him? He barely could tell the difference between all these leather fabrics and she chose them out like it was nothing.

“Cat? Cat. Cat Noir? Is something wrong? Oh no do I have something in my hair!?” Marinette looked around nervously, and tried plucking a ghost object from her hair.

Oh no... was he staring? Awh Camembert he was!

“What? Oh, no, no. Don’t worry your hair looks as beautiful as ever, I.. was just umm-” What possible excuse could he have for staring into those mesmerizing, deep, beautiful bluebell eyes for too long? Maybe he could say that she-

“Oh I see what this is! You’re trying to be flirty with your eyes. Well listen here tomcat, I know we’ve known each other for almost 3 years now, but you’re not getting another kiss out of me that easily. Let’s just have a few dates and see where this goes... okay?” Marinette looked up at him and pointed up at his face, a bit demanding. Well at least now he didn’t have to worry about making an excuse as to why he was staring at her.

Hold on. Did she just say she wanted to have a few more dates with him? As in.. more than one? She really liked him just as much as he liked her? Cat Noir couldn’t contain his camembert-eating grin, as his heart began to beat faster for her. Plagg was right, he really did have a chance with her!

“Cat... why are you grinning like that?” Marinette narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms.

“Oh nothing. I just realized, while we’re on this date looking for fabric materials, how much I like spending time with you.” Chat Noir gave her the most affectionate smile, making eye contact with her. He could have sworn he saw her cheeks turn pink and chuckled at how adorable she looked. “Oh, that reminds me! Shouldn’t we also be looking for some accent grays to go on the linings of the purse?” He had a little bit of an idea on what clashes, what matches and all that, since his dad has worked with a bunch of designs for his company.

“Uh- Oh yeah! I almost forgot about those, let’s go find some!” Marinette grabbed his wrist and dragged him along with her to the other side of the shelves, where the darker colors were. They continued looking for a few fabrics until finally finding the perfect ones. After that they went back to the bakery and ate some delicious macaroons and continued making her Cat Noir-inspired purse. What a lovely night it was for the two teens to end off their first date.

#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #plagg #tikki #chat noir

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smellycinnamonthundahfudge · 5 years

Text

5 gifts peter got for mj and 1 she gave him

im still alive bishes haha. am i really just choosing to participate in a different prompt that i barely have anything planned out for instead of finishing the one i was late in following up on? yes i am. prep urselves for some gift giving spideychelle to develop their relationship pre-ffh hehe

after hoco and peter starts to gain a work spidey life balance, he finally starts to notice that mj apparently... cares... about... him???

it wasn't obvious at first, hidden under a layer of deadpan sarcasm and witty comebacks, but the interest seemed to be there

which was why every time peter would miss a meeting, he'd actually feel bad this time because he really did want to be there this time

he'd feel terrible every time mj would ask him where he was, why he didn't show up. she was hoping he'd show and he let her down.

the first couple of times it happens, mj's understanding enough.

but it happens a couple of times too often and back to back and something snaps

you see, peter and mj have developed a bit of a rapport over the couple of months after hoco.

peter finds out mj likes coffee and tea, she read a stephen king book one time, he noticed, and they talked basically all week about king (and some of the issues surrounding him, his work, and their adaptations ofc)

soon enough their talks extend beyond school and they start meeting up in the library, at their places, at coffee shops, pizza places, an arcade one time where mj managed to beat peter at air hockey. her lil energetic whoop and almost doing a victory dance (before realizing she was in public) was worth losing for.

but admittedly, peter was just a tinge bit stressed and overextended and he unfortunately let his time with mj fall by the wayside.

he'd accidentally left her at seen for days after he completely forgot she sent him a message. she called, he answered, a robber was currently running away from some cops, he hung up on her...

suffice it to say, peter became a bit of a bad friend and he completely understood why mj reverted back to their previous relationship, he did it first

which was why peter decided enough was enough

mj has been a great friend to him, a true one, and an underappreciated one at that

which was why he decided he'd spend as much time, effort, and thoughtful gestures necessary trying to make it up to her

problem was, they were currently on clipped one word reply speaking terms right now. mj barely looked at him, she went back to sitting all the way to the other side of the farthest table during lunch again...

he needed a way in

so he went back to basics, the next day, he knew mj had a 7 am class so peter went to school at 7 am too, just to give mj some much needed caffeine

trouble was, was that mj was running late and when he gave the coffee, she left just as quick as she came

she said a quick "thanks, parker" and swoosh she sprinted to class

and peter was left there with 3 hours to spare til his next class. oh well, at least the effort made her do that quick lil toothy smirk

his efforts would work eventually won't it?

but if an omniscient narrator were watching him for the following days, they probably would have said no, no they wouldn't

one of those days, peter brought a thermos of tea only to find that mj had brought her own

"great, i thought the point of these gifts were to make things less awkward between us" peter thought to himself as he winds up walking away in slight shame from the awkward interaction

he winds up sharing the thermos with ned instead, who promptly responded "wow i get your secondhand gifts, you sure know how to make a guy feel special, peter"

"shut up, ned, do you want some or not?"

"no, come on, give it to me. free drinks are free drinks even if it's essentially just warm leaf juice. besides, i heard this helps with a sore throat."

"well, at least someone's happy with my gift"

they clink their cups together and peter begins brainstorming his next probably bound to fail gift idea

as he was walking home from school that day, and saw mj heading to the library, said idea lights up in his head in the form of bookmarks

those were cute right? and mj would probably use em all the time cus she reads so much and she reads multiple books at a time, so she'd probably use multiple bookmarks as well, right?

bookmarks it was, peter decided

he thought he'd print a bunch of personalized ones. ones that were photos of them, had quotes from significant historical female figures, and of course science puns

he knew mj didn't appreciate them as much as he did, but a part of him thought she'd like them nevertheless and would think of him when she'd use them

peter knew this gift giving crusade would be... heavy on his wallet, but as he stared at the price for laminating a couple of personalized bookmarks. he concluded lamination was a scam and believed mj would be careful enough with her books, and consequently, her bookmarks, to not need some flimsy piece of plastic to protect it

so peter opted for some folders and cardboard to make said bookmarks instead

it's only later after he got tossed into a sewer by a dude in a mechanized rhinoceros suit that he learned a valuable lesson: always laminate bookmarks

ok he was kidding (lamination was still a scam and bad for the environment and you couldnt write on the things after you laminate em)

but really tho, he did learn something. he realized he hasn't had the best of luck keeping his gifts intact in time to give said gifts to mj

so he decided to employ reinforcements

once peter's saved enough money to buy his next gift (a sketch notebook that he saw at a cutesy old crafts store), he decides that he should take ned with him when he buys it and that ned should just give it to mj instead

(better safe than sorry)

but peter still wanted mj to know the gift was from him tho, so he decided to write a letter and insert it within the notebook.

so he writes, or more like incoherently rambles and apologizes really

but peter thinks he got to the crux of the importance their relationship had to him and really, he just wanted to make things up to mj

that's what mattered

here's the thing tho, halfway thru writing said letter, he realized that having ned give it to her was kind of a cop out.

not to mention, not giving it personally but writing this long ass sort of confessional letter?

pfftt peter liked to think he was better than that

talk about sending mixed messages

so peter decided that he would still have ned keep the notebook and the letter, right up until the point that he was going to give the gifts to her.

and finally, peter parker, in this whole gift giving crusade, is finally given a fucking break.

at lunch time, the three of them are now all sitting at the same table

(peter and mj's relationship have mostly improved in the time it took him trying to give all those gifts, but he still felt guilty and he still wanted to show his appreciation for her)

ned "slyly" (mj saw it, how sly could he have been?) passes peter the notebook under the table

and peter braces himself

"i can do this" he repeatedly quietly mutters to himself until he finally approaches

"hey, mj"

"greetings, parker" casually replies mj without so much as looking up from her book

"i uh... got you something"

"is it something ned gave you?"

"what?"

"cause if it is, he can give it to me himself, you know" says mj in a semi shout to ned as well (ned looks at peter with a facial expression that said dude wtff?? how did i get in the middle of this???)

"what? no no no this isn't from ned. i bought you this."

"so why did ned have it?" says mj in her cool suave investigator mj interrogatory tone

"well..."

peter had officially maybe five? six? seconds to decide whether to share his embarrassing tales of failed gift giving woes to mj or to make up something on the spot

screw it, embarrassing failed gifts it was instead. truth shall set you free and all that, right? plus maybe it'd help him practice for when he tells her his biggest secret

peter sighs in defeat and tells mj in an almost quiet mumble "all my other gifts were destroyed when i kept them so i decided to have ned keep them instead"

"i'm sorry what?"

"it's just that the last time i tried to get you a gift, it just wound up getting ruined so i thought i'd just have ned hold onto it until it was time to give it to you."

peter can barely look mj in the eyes, the cafeteria just seems so interesting all of a sudden.

"oh"

that made peter look back at mj cus she seemed... shocked?

mj is.... shocked????

"soo... you bought that... for me?"

and god forsake peter parker because mj just gave him the cutest shyest little happy smile that he never knew she was capable of having.

"yeah yeah i did" and peter finally gets to give mj his gift/s (im counting the letter as the 5th gift cus im lazy af hahaha) and all the other trials and errors and failed gift attempts completely made the end result worth it

until ofc mj opens the damn thing and finds said letter that peter had completely forgotten at the moment was there

"what's this??" mj asks in an overly sarcastic teasing tone that kinda makes peter want to die

as mj opens the letter right there during lunch in the school cafeteria, peter suddenly lunges to block said letter's contents from mj's sight

"petet what the hell are you doing?" asks mj with the sweetest laughter that peter would totally googoo eyes about at any other moment had he not been focused on trying (and obviously failing) to keep his dignity intact

"uhhh can i ask that you just read that some other time, mj? and uh not right here, right now, in the cafeteria? it's just really embarrassing" peter shyly requests of mj, scratching his neck and looking at everything in the cafeteria but her

to that, mj simply has a sympathetic look on her face in reply

"sure, peter" says mj with a reassuring smile

and with that, peter breathes a big sigh of relief and finally lets go of his feelings letter for mj

mj closes the notebook up, keeping the letter safe inside it in the process, and secures the notebook safe inside her bag inmediately

suffice it to say, for mj, that notebook is precious cargo and she shall treasure it as much as she is capable of treasuring something

because peter parker felt guilty over not getting to spend time with her as much as they did and kind of pushing her to the sidelines and so it was just a genuine thoughtful gesture that showed peter valued their friendship/relationship as much as she valued it

PRECIOUS. CARGO.

but speaking of said cargo...

"hey peter"

"yeah?"

peter had gone back to his seat right next to ned

"sooo what was the other gift you tried to give me?" asks mj, getting back to their playful teasing banter ways

mj's question sends peter facepalming himself with the table

"don't think i've forgotten about that, i'm probably not going to stop investigating til i find out so might as well just spill the truth, parker"

peter stops his repetitive headbanging onto the table and sighs

"fine, mj"

and peter goes on to explain his bookmarks idea beginning all the way from the thermos incident

the three of them spend the rest of their lunch looking at the photos peter was going to use for the bookmarks, fondly recalling memories upon looking back at the some of the photos and laughing at all the corny science puns peter had planned on using as well

things were finally back to normal, if not better than ever.

time for some cliche corny af happy end quote ending about how their friendship and the memories they shared together was the real gifts they had buuuttt i did mention mj would be giving peter a gift didnt i? soooo mj pov epiloooggguuueeeee

here's the thing, mj had an inkling peter parker was trying to attempt something

he was at school at the same time as her crack of dawn class and gave her some much needed caffeine

he tried to share his thermos of tea with her

it seemed like peter was trying to make amends and it really was sweet and thoughtful so ofc lil by lil she began to soften back

but as mj was printing the bookmarks peter had planned to give her

mj requisitioned the idea for herself since they actually were good ideas if she's being honest

tho she would never tell peter that, ESPECIALLY the science puns one

she'd reserve those for only when she's at home, the least likely place peter could ever see her use that

ok so back to- as mj was printing said bookmarks, she began to appreciate peter's thoughtfulness

and it is totally not because of any feelings said gifts and gift attempts gave her

but right now, as she had finished printing bookmarks and got nostalgic and reread the letter of peter confessing to her how much their relationship meant to him again, she suddenly had the unscratchable itch of needing to sketch peter

and a balancing of the scales gift idea was born

because you see, rn, peter had the upper hand in terms of the morality of their friendship and mj couldnt have that nooo

mj was sketching a screen cap of a video she took of the class while they were waiting for a professor and peter gave her that impossibly adorkable smile

because she HAD TO

she couldnt let peter hog all the gift giving glory

she didnt do it because of feelings or whatever ppfftt

this was just to balance the scales, mkayyyy???

or at least that's what mj told herself once she's finished her sketch and proceeded to look for all her old ones of peter

just to even things out

and that's exactly what mj told him as she shoved said sketches that were currently inside a plastic envelope onto peter's hands

(1. less likely for them to be ruined that way. 2. she was not going to have those sketches out in the open for everyone to plainly see wtf)

"this is just to make things even between us, no need to make a big deal about it"

peter was in awe for a while, his jaw slightly dropped, but he smiles in adoration of the girl of his dreams and gives a genuine "thank you, mj"

"you're welcome, peter."

mj even smiles a little before the bell rings and she hightails out of there

mj lightly sprints away, still slightly in shock and unsure of what she just did and what just happened

while peter is left looking at mj's direction fondly and looking back at her gift for him

and as he peeked inside the envelope to see its contents and saw all those sketches of him

peter felt like he truly didn't deserve someone like mj

and he felt like all the gifts in the world he could think of and muster up wouldn't be able to make up for that fact

holy fucking shit i cant believe i actually finished one of these things again. it's like pulling fucking fingernails and teeth at the same time, i tell you

but honestly i'm just really really happy i finished it and it's so pure and fluffy imo and nothing im just. i love these two sm.

this fic was supposed to be for 5+1 things day but since they're also a bunch of headcanons i like to think i'm just posting these in advance for headcanons day tomorrow hahahaha

IM BACK ON THE SPIDEYCHELLE MONTH TRAIN BABY TOOT TOOT TOOOTTTT

and i have a couple of fics left in me so whew keep a lookout for those if they decide to come hahaha

all hail spideychelle everybody. i'll be back i dunno haha

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divineluce · 4 years

Text

Ink About It || Remmy & Luce

Location: Ink Inc.

Notes: Remmy comes in to ease a burden that’s being weighing on their mind. Luce both helps and attempts to hurt.

Remmy had a secret. It was nestled on the back of their left shoulder, and it was a simple tattoo. It listed the names of their squadmates, in order of rank. And their dog tag numbers, with a circle around them. Simple, easy. If one of us dies, we all get the name crossed out. It was a little morbid, really, but they’d all been young and dumb. And doing this had felt like it brought them closer together. It was supposed to motivate them to all stay safe. To remind them that they had people to look out for, other than themselves. And to carry their memories on their back, always, even if they were gone. But Remmy had never gone back to get it finished. The thought of getting all their names crossed out felt...too heavy. They wanted a better way to remember them, to commemorate them. To move on from their loss. But they couldn’t figure out what they wanted to do with it, the list of names on their shoulder. Like a laundry list of all the things they’d done wrong. All the people they’d let down. It was time to change that. Breathing in-- a still comforting gesture, despite the lack of need-- they went up to the parlor doors and pushed them open. The little bell ran as they entered and they glanced up, before looking back inside. They hadn’t really planned on coming here so abruptly, but acting on impulse was something Remmy was trying to do more of. It was time to get out of such a regimented lifestyle, stuck in military time. There was someone at the front desk, a woman, looking a little bored and a little distracted. “Um, hi,” Remmy said as they scooted up to the counter, “I um...I don’t have an appointment or anything, but like, I was hoping to maybe talk to someone about uh, an alteration. To an existing tattoo. If that’s, if like--” they paused, “if that’s okay.”

Rolling a pencil across her fingers, Luce looked at the clock. Fucking hell, it’d already been 40 minutes. She was calling it. “We gotta no show. Again.” She said, poking her head out of her room. Leave it to Dario to schedule another flake for her, christ. Which meant she’d come in for nothing. At least she’d had time to work on a few designs of her own, but this was getting frustrating. She was trying to make money here, and fewer asses in the chair meant less money in her wallet, simply speaking. At least she was gonna be making money off her cabin. Her sweet, amazing, beautiful cabin… that her mom had forced her to move out off. Resting her head on her hand, she looked at her sketchbook for a second, contemplating the design she’d been working on for the new girl to the coven. What was her name? M- something. Melissa? Mallory? Morga--Morgan. Yeah, that’s the one. As she worked on the preliminary sketches, the little bell over the door rang out and she heard someone talking nervously with the receptionist. Popping her head out the door, Luce walked out to the main area of the shop. “We take walk-ins. And it’s your lucky day. I’m Luce,” She stuck out a hand, “What are you looking to get done?” She asked.

Remmy startled slightly when someone came out of the back room and over to the front desk. “Oh, hi! Hello, I--” they paused, taking in her sight. She was oddly familiar. Long, dark hair, that looked almost as dark as the night outside. Piercing eyes. Tattoos up each arm. A tank top that dipped a little lower down her sides than usual, and pants that were...form fitting. Remmy felt their throat close up. “Ye-eah. Yup. I’m lucky! I mean-- I’m Remmy. I mean, I’m here for a tattoo. Well not a tattoo, I already have one. I want it like-- uh, altered? I need it-- yup. Altered. That’s what I’m here for. Right now. Um...Oh!” They finally reached out to take her hand, noticing that it was warmer-- kinda like Bea’s-- before stepping back a little. “Are you the artist? Do you like, um-- I...don’t really know how this works. Sorry.”

Eyebrow raising as the person began to stumble through their words, Luce nodded. Another nervous nellie. Which, given her own sister’s fear of needles, not an entirely inaccurate saying either. As they continued to ramble on, Luce realized that they were saying something that sounded familiar-- the whole, altering thing. Talking about it like tattoos were a jacket or something. “I think we might have talked about this online, actually. Good to meet you in person. And, you lucked out, Remmy. Because I’ve got a solid 4 hours free.” She said with a slight grimace. Fucking cancellations. She was willing to bet it was probably some guy who got too drunk last night and missed his appointment while nursing a hangover in Al’s. “I’m not the artist. That would be Ulfric, he owns this place. I’m one of the artists who works here consistently. Me and Rory, a handful of others. Come on, let’s talk shop in my workspace.” She said, gesturing for them to follow her back to her private room in the shop. It was a neat and organized place, with a few shelves that had a couple candles, a polished citrine crystal, and some of her artwork hanging on the walls. A pinboard with a bunch of pre-made design stencils filled one wall, the prices written on the corner. “So,” Luce said as she slid into her chair, opening her laptop, “What am I working with and what are you thinking?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Remmy said, trying to recall the conversation. Their thoughts had jumbled that night, after learning about Blanche’s house exorcism gone wrong. But that was in the past and everything was okay now. They could take this time to focus on them, and just them. And not the very attractive person who was now saying things. Things Remmy should probably listen to. Tuning back in, Remmy nodded. “Right, yeah! Let’s-- yeah.” They followed Luce back to her station, eyes wandering. Landing on some of the charcoal drawings hung up on the walls. “Did you do these?” they asked, leaning in a bit closer, but keeping a good distance. They knew not to touch other peoples’ art. They looked almost like some of the things Remmy doodled. Lots of shapes and straight lines. Remmy liked drawing buildings and objects. Things that a calculated mind could easily recreate. They turned back to face her, unsure of where to sit, shuffling around. “Uh, it’s-- I can sh--” they started, but stopped. Showing her meant taking their sweater off. It meant showing someone their tattoo for the first time since they’d gotten back. It was usually always covered. “It’s on my back. It’s um...some names, in a circle. And uh, dog tag chains.”

“I did. Clean lines and geometric work are kind of my thing.” Luce said, tilting her head to the stencils on the wall, “But, I’m also good at a lot of other styles. American traditional, Japanese traditional, black work, you name it, I can do it. I draw the line at new school. I don’t do bubbly graffiti art.” She grimaced. She hated that oversaturated shit. Watching as they looked over the art on her walls, Luce leaned back in her chair, amused. Maybe they were an artist too. Starving artist, by the looks of their clothes. But, that was how it went sometimes. Watching the way they fidgeted, Luce pointed at one of the chairs by the door. “Have a seat. Please.” She added. Maybe the politeness would help their nerves. As they described their tattoo to her, Luce fought to keep her expression neutral. But still... Dog tags. Luce wasn’t a stranger to doing military tattoos and if someone wanted a tattoo with names and dog tags altered? That meant some big shit must have gone down. “Mhm. Okay. What are you thinking about doing with them?”

“Wow, they’re really good,” Remmy said with a genuine awe. They always wondered how people could make such great things, out of their own minds. Glancing back at Luce, they nodded quickly. “Right, yeah. Sit. Okay.” And fell into the chair quickly, stumbling only a little. They looked at her, then down at their shoes. They should’ve worn nicer shoes. And nicer pants. And...not a weird baggy sweater. Remmy smoothed their palms down their thighs before looking up at her again. “Uh, oh. I mean...I don’t really know. What I want to do with it. Just that...I want it to feel better. Um-- sorry, that doesn’t make sense. I mean, I want it to not be...what it is. What it represents? I want it to be...a good thing. Not--” a representation of death. Remmy bit their bottom lip. “I was kinda hoping someone else could help like, figure it out? I’m not all that creative, really. Better with the like, looking at something and drawing it side. Like buildings! And cars.”

“Thanks.” Luce said with a wry smile. Not that she doubted that Remmy meant it-- if anything, she had a feeling they were very serious in how they felt about her works. But, there were still flaw with her art, still discrepancies here and there. Crooked lines, pieces that didn’t fully work as a whole. She kept the art mainly as a reminder that there was always room for improvement. Swivelling in her chair to face her client, Luce listened as they rambled their way through their thoughts. And the way that they petered off at the end of their sentence confirmed her suspicions. This tattoo, it carried weight. It carried baggage. And this person literally had a burden that no one else could understand, weighing down on their shoulders. “Okay. So, what I want to know is, do you want it covered up? Or do you want it changed in a way that it’s still visible and still a part of you. Because those are very, very different things. People like to say that art is just art, but there’s more to it.” Luce said, pausing for a moment. “I’m not a therapist, won’t claim to be one either. But this is some heavy shit, I’m guessing. And I want to make sure you’re making the right decision, for present and future you, with this.”

“The second one,” Remmy said quickly, “definitely the...second one. I don’t want it covered up. I--” like it? No. That wasn’t quite the right word. Remmy had always been bad at finding the right words. “--need it.” Want it, even. They subconsciously reached back, fingers pressing where the names were under their sweater. Their eyes fell back to their shoes. They really needed new shoes. “It’s-- it’s not that big of a deal, really. It was just, like, stupid kids making a stupid promise to each other. And I...want to honor the like...thought behind it. Maybe not like, what it represents, what it came to be but like...what we wanted them to mean. What it should mean.” They dropped their hand, plucked at a loose string. “Sorry. I um...I’m really bad at explaining things.”

Oh boy. Luce hadn’t been wrong about this tattoo having a lot of baggage behind it, if they were this uncomfortable talking about it. Watching the way they averted their eyes, the way they reached for a spot on their shoulder, Luce folded her arms across her chest contemplatively. On the one hand, this seemed like something that might be out of her depth. On the other hand… she loved a challenge. And they seemed like a good person, just a bit lost. Nothing like getting an old piece refreshed to help the soul. “It’s all good. And hey. It’s something that’s got a lot of meaning to you clearly. Both then and now. So. Honoring the people you served with. I can get behind that.” She said, mulling over some ideas. It would all depend on the placement of the tattoo, of course. “I’m gonna close the door, give us some privacy so you can show me what you’ve got. I kinda need to know what I’m working with.” Luce explained.

“Oh, good, cool,” Remmy said, smacking themself internally for how stupid they sounded. “Now? You need to-- yeah. Okay. Um-- yeah. Okay! I can...do that.” They watched her close the door and shuffled in the chair a little. They waited until Luce was sitting again before tugging their sweater off, thankful they’d decided to put their binder on today instead of just using the wrap. “It’s uh,” putting the sweater aside, they turned so that their left shoulder was facing Luce better. “Back here,” pointed at the spot, “kinda covered, I can...move it.” Under the fabric was a simple tattoo: four names, each surrounded by the outline of a dog tag. Like a list, almost. Calvin Lancer, Lieutenant. Jeremy Andrews, Second Lieutenant. Ken Johnson, Private. Darius Mulberry, Combat Medic. All in a row down their shoulder, an almost mechanical tattoo. They glanced up at Luce, wondering what she could have thought about it. If it was savable.

Giving them space, Luce settled back down in her chair and politely waited for them to show her the tattoo. The flash of the binder wasn’t too surprising, they seemed pretty androgynous. But, never hurt to be clear. “Real quick-- preferred pronouns? And, if I’m down to do this tattoo, are you cool with me being your artist? We’ve got male tattoo artists as well, just putting that option out there.” She said. The worst thing a tattoo artist could do, besides fuck up a tattoo, was make their client uncomfortable and she didn’t want to do that at all. As she took in the very basic, nondescript tattoo, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. The implication of getting this altered was very, very real to her. “I see. And you’re looking to get something to honor them.” She said mulling the tattoo over. She could think of something already. Maybe adding chains that linked them together? Or some kind of decorative outline? “I know you said you’re not good at creative stuff-- I call bullshit on that, by the way. What kind of things do you like, visually, to look at? That could give me a good idea of what to do, what options I have.”

“Preferred--” Remmy started, confused, then stopped. They still weren’t used to the question and although it came as a surprise, it felt nice, too. To be seen this way. They gave a little shrug. “Uh, just...they. Um, thanks. No! You-- you’re fine. I prefer women.” Paused. “I mean like, for this!” Paused again. “But not that I don’t-- it’s, uh--” snapped their jaw shut. They were rambling again. “Sorry! Sorry. I get uh-- a little nervous.” They should’ve brought Moose, but they weren’t sure he’d like it here, with all the small noises. They watched Luce examine the tattoo, glancing down at their feet again, hands wringing together. “Oh, um, I’m-- I’m really not. Creative. Or like, good at it. Being creative. I just like, you know, looking at nature. And airplanes. I don’t know why, they always look cool to me. Like...I can’t believe someone built this. Of course it’s like a lot of someone’s, but like, someone saw it in their head and designed it and made it real. And like, mechanical things, I guess? I like um, shapes, you know? Like you were saying, that you do. Um...geometric stuff?”

Listening to the way they rambled on, Luce resisted the urge to smirk at them-- if they weren’t a client, she definitely would. But, they were probably just nervous at the prospect of the tattoo alteration. It was a big step, it seemed. And she was going to be here to help them through it. “Noted. On all accounts.” She said with a reassuring smile. “And don’t worry, everyone gets nervous, even if they don’t admit it.” As they began to talk about what things they liked to look at, the things that interested them, Luce pulled out a physical binder of her portfolio and handed it to them. “Why don’t you take a look through this while I do a rough sketch of what I’m thinking? See if anything catches your eye.” Her brain was already churning with ideas for how she could make this tattoo something that wasn’t just a burden, but something… commemorative. A legacy to the bonds of-- hm. That was an idea. Booting up her tablet, she began to do a rough sketch of the dog tags that already existed, and then began to add her own details. Chains, snaking from each tag, coming together, intertwining and then. She glanced over at her client, pursing her lips. It was worth a shot. Luce added another dog tag connected to the four other tags by the winding chains.

Remmy took the binder gratefully and started flipping through it, awed by all the designs she had in there. “You did all of these? They’re...incredible…” Looked up for a moment. “Oh, well, like-- I think I kinda get um-- extra nervous. Especially like, around, well...um.” Cleared their throat. “My friend keeps telling me I need to stop apologizing so much, too…” they trailed off, biting their bottom lip, looking at Luce, then back down at the binder. “Harder to do than it sounds.” After all, Remmy had been apologizing for their existence almost their whole life. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to know that...Sorry. Dammit.” Gave a half chuckle. “See?” They flipped the page and something jumped out to them. It was familiar, it looked sort of like the design they’d seen it on some of the memorabilia their uncle had back home. “Oh, hey-- I kinda like this? It looks kinda like um...that knot thing...celtic knots?” they said, raising the binder to try and show Luce.

“Yup, I did. I’ve been tattooing for 5 years officially, so I’ve got a nice little collection of pieces to show off,” Luce said, eyes still focused on her draft. Mm. That line looked weird. And those chains were off. Switching between reference pictures, she began to add more detail to it, just to give a clearer idea of what she was going for. “Apologize, don’t apologize, all that matters is you’re true to yourself.” She said with a shrug. “But, you’re good. Consider this an apology free zone.” Luce said with a grin. Swiveling around in her chair, Luce looked over at the picture they were holding up. Celtic knots. “Good choice. Those are symbolic of friendship, love, eternity, depending on the one. There’s the Sailor’s Knot, which is more indicative of friendship and the bonds forged tightly. And there’s also the Shield Knot, which is one of enduring protection.” She said, pointing to the two different designs. “Which speaks to you more?”

Huh. That was a weird thought. Remmy nodded. Deirdre had said something like that, too-- just be true to yourself. It was hard, though, to act on that advice when Remmy didn’t know what their true self was, besides dead. They pushed the thought away. “Thanks,” was all they said, a little quieter, before setting the binder down, and looking at the two Luce had pointed out. “I think...the shield one. I like the sound of that one.” Enduring protection. Maybe they had failed their squadmates, but that didn’t mean their memories couldn’t stay to protect Remmy. To remind them that they were never alone. Yeah, that was it, wasn’t it? That’s what they needed. That reminder. It’d been the reason they’d gotten the tattoos, after all, in the first place. “Definitely the second one,” they said more confidently, finally looking Luce in the eyes. It only lasted a second, but they were able to give her a nod, before dropping their eyes back to the binder.

“For sure. And I meant it, you know. Like, my whole job revolves around being true to yourself. Tattoos are reflective of the people who have them, no matter what they are.” Luce said with a firm nod. Her job had allowed her to find her own voice, to speak her mind, and be honest with who she was. And it had been a very long and difficult lesson to learn, but ultimately rewarding. “The shield should work well with what I’m thinking. Give me a bit and I’ll show you the rough draft of what I’ve got. Obviously, it’ll take me more time to get the final design done, but it shouldn’t take too long.” She said. When they looked up and met her gaze, Luce was pleasantly surprised by the determination that she saw there. “You’ve got great eyes, by the way.” She said as she turned back to her design, erasing the original entanglement of chains and pulling up a reference for the shield knot. “Just an artistic observation, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah, that-that makes sense. I mean...I just kinda figured I’d do it cause it was like, a group thing, we all promised we’d do it,” Remmy said, their mouth once again getting ahead of their brain.”We were kinda young and dumb at the time, though. I don’t think any of us put much thought into it…” They slowed, stopped talking again. “Oh, that’s fine! Yeah, um...take your time. I know I kinda like, sprung this on you. Sorry about that.” They scratched the back of their head, feeling their cheeks grow hot a moment. “I-- great eyes? Do you mean like, for the knot? Cause, like, technically I just liked it cause my Uncle had it around his place a lot. Like, as a symbol? On pictures and like, letterheads. And-- that’s...that’s not important. Sorry.”

“Even if you didn’t, it’s still representative of who you were at the time. Young and dumb isn’t how I’d classify it though,” Luce said as she filled in the intricate loops and connecting lines of the celtic symbol. “You all cared about each other enough to go all in on something like this. That says a lot.” In the brief lull of conversation, Luce began to erase some of her guidelines and added some chain detailing to the shield knot. “Don’t apologize, you’re giving me something to do. It’s my job.” She nodded. Leaning back from the screen, she looked at the draft, frowned, and then began to erase some of her lines. She didn’t like how the chains fed in, if she fixed it here… Better. “I meant you have great eyes. Very nice color.” She said, “No, keep talking. It’s interesting, gives backstory to the piece.”

Remmy didn’t comment on Luce’s observation. She was probably right, but Remmy didn’t want to think about all that right now. They’d just gotten through a big episode of grieving them, crying on Morgan, crying with Skylar, yelling at Blanche...they just didn’t want to think about it anymore. Blinking, Remmy looked up, trying to refocus on the conversation. “Huh? Oh, uh-- I mean...yeah, okay. If you say so.” They picked at a spot on their jeans again, cheeks turning warm. “I, uh-- oh. I do? I mean...thanks? Thanks. I mean thanks. You have nice eyes, too.” Oh, that was weird to say. “I mean pretty eyes! I mean, they look nice! Like...they’re also a nice color. They match your hair, too, and it’s, you-- kinda remind me of someone but like, you have a really pretty face.” Remmy clenched their jaw shut. “Fuck. Sorry. I ramble. So much. A lot. I say stupid things cause like my mouth gets ahead of my brain and I don’t think things through, um-- sorry. Anyway...yeah. My Uncle. He was Irish. So was my mom, I guess. But, like, my Uncle was really into the whole, heritage thing. Showed me what clan we were from and all that. Had our uh...special what it is, like...flag? Or um, crest? On some stuff. And a stamp of it. For letters and letterheads. He gave it to me, but I think I lost it in the move....”

“I do say so, yeah.” Luce said, leaning back to stare at the image for a moment before going back in to get the lines just how she wanted them. She wanted the new dog tag to stand out… Hm. Selecting the image, she rotated it ninety degrees so it was horizontal rather than vertical. Nice. That was more what she wanted. “Thanks. I like to think I’ve got a nice face.” She said, choosing to ignore the comment about her reminding them of someone. They probably meant Bea. Or Nell. Or even her mother. Ugh, not what she wanted to think about right now. “Like I said, talking gives background and meaning, so ramble away.” Listening to them as they talked about their family, Luce added in a few more lines until she was satisfied with the draft. “That’s cool that you’ve got that kind of family background. Who knows, you might find the stamp sometime. Now. How’s this look, just as a rough idea?” She asked, taking her laptop off the desk and bringing it over for Remmy to look at.

Remmy watched Luce with curious eyes as she scratched away on her tablet. They’d never seen anyone use them before, and they’d always wondered how they worked. “Oh, uh, okay. Usually people tell me to stop talking. It’s a bad habit sometimes.” Finally, Luce finished and came over with the laptop. Remmy’s eyes lingered on it, but it didn’t entirely register until they saw the new tag Luce had added. It had their name on it. Intertwined with the knot and the other tags. Remmy didn’t know what to say for a moment. “I-It…” they stuttered a moment, “Yeah. I mean-- yes. Or, it looks great. Perfect. It’s…” they grew quiet. “Perfect.”

“Most people are also assholes.” Luce said bluntly. “You can speak your mind, there’s nothing wrong with it.” She’d spent most of her childhood keeping her thoughts to herself, overshadowed by Bea at first and then by Nell. It had been easier to fade into the background, considering that Bea was the family’s pride and joy and Nell the on-going problem child. But, her job had shifted that perspective, made her realize her thoughts had merit. When Remmy gave their approval, she nodded once. “I’d hope it’s not perfect, this is just the first a draft. Give me a bit and I’ll get the finished product done and we can get to work. Just a heads up. You’ll have to have your binder off for this and you won’t be able to wear it for the rest of today. If that puts you in a bad headspace, we don’t have to do this. You can come back whenever you’re ready.” She said with a nod. “Just want to let you know.”

Remmy shrugged. “Oh, no, I-I don’t think they’re assholes, really. I...I can be a lot sometimes. I get that. Some people just can’t, like, handle it. It’s fine. I don’t mind.” They shifted in their chair as Luce explained the rest of what needed to happen. “Yeah, no-- of course. Not like, perfect perfect. But perfect as in like...perfect design? It-- it’s great. I could never-- I would’ve never been able to come up with something like that. It’s amazing, that could do that, just from, you know...me talking?” They looked down at their lap, hands wringing tightly. If they left, they knew they would never come back. Remmy shook their head. “No, I-- I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I wanna do it today. Let’s-- can we do it today?”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged as she settled back into her chair, laptop back in place on her work table. Luce stretched her hand out for a moment before going back in on her tablet, making a new layer and beginning the cleaned up version. “Hope you don’t mind if I throw on some music, helps me focus.” She said, as she opened up Spotify and let some blues inspired rock and roll play in the room. The image began to flow from her fingertips, the lines appearing in time to the ebbs and flows of the music. The pounding bassline gave her the solid, clean lines of the new dog tag, the intricate guitar solo forming the celtic shield knot. Piece by piece, note by note, the tattoo came together. Erasing the last couple stray lines, Luce hit the preview button and walked back over to Remmy, flexing her hand slightly. “Anything you wanna change? Speak now or never.”

Remmy gave a nod. “No, that-- that’s fine.” They stayed sitting for the most part, as Luce began drawing up the final draft. They were impressed she was able to get into the zone so quickly, and that she could just...make something like that, from her mind. After a bit, they stood and shuffled around the room a little, looking at all the drawings she had hung up around. The intricate lines, the attention to details in each of the pictures, it made Remmy wish they could do something like that. The only person they’d ever shown their stuff to was Nate. He’d said it was good, but Remmy figured he was just being nice. Their stuff was just observational, they could never do anything like this. When Luce finally finished and came back over, Remmy turned to look at what she’d come up with. “Oh, woah! No way! That’s amazing! I love it. It’s perfect. Like, for real this time. Perfect perfect.” They paused. “Really.”

A genuine smile spread across Luce’s face as she watched Remmy take in the design. The way their face lit up, she knew she’d nailed it, even before they’d answered. Fuck yes. Nothing beat that kind of reaction. This, this was what she loved about her job. The art, yes, but seeing people love something new about themselves? That was special. Of course, she’d never tell anyone that. “Excellent. I’ll need you to take off your shirt and binder so I can get the stencil on there and then we’ll be ready to go.” She said, as she began to print out a couple different sizes of her design, just to see what would work best. While her printer began to spit out the stencils, she pulled out fresh needles for her machine, wiping down the leather of her chair with solution, and grabbing the ink she needed from her large rolling toolkit of supplies. With her back to Remmy, she spoke over her shoulder. “You can either lie down or stay standing while I put the stencil on. Your call.”

“Oh, uh-- I-I’ll lay down…” Remmy answered quickly, swallowing the lump in their throat. They tugged their shirt off and set it down on the chair they’d been sitting in before, folding it up neatly, military style-- It was a habit they still hadn’t been able to break-- before reaching down to remove their binder. Hands shook only slightly as they folded it up as well and set it on top of their shirt. It was somehow both terrifying and reassuring knowing that their body still looked the same, even after dying. Blocking the thought from going any further, Remmy went over to the work chair and sat. They were really doing this. Drawing in a soothing breath, Remmy closed their eyes a moment. This would help. This would help them move on. All of them. Letting the breath go, Remmy turned around and laid down. “Ready,” they said, only a tinge of nerves in their voice.

Luce waited until Remmy gave her the all clear before turning around. It took a few tries to get the stencils lined up properly-- that was the trick of altering a pre-existing tattoo. She had to make sure that everything looked cohesive and coherent, so that it didn’t look like two tattoos smashed together, but one complete image. Making sure all the chains lined up, she stepped back, getting a good look at it from a bit away. She wanted the tattoo to still be legible even from a distance. The spacing looked good, everything read well. Excellent. “Alright.” She said as she pulled on a pair of gloves and set up her machine, “We’re gonna get going, just let me know if you feel light headed or need a break. You can talk to me or just zone out, whatever helps you out.” She said, switching the tattoo machine on before dipping the tip in the ink and setting to work.

Remmy kept quiet as Luce lined up the stencil. They could feel the paper against their back, the slight touch of her hands, and wondered if she had cold hands like them. Or maybe warm hands, like Nell and Bea. It was a weird thing to wonder, but Remmy noticed they’d started wondering that more about everyone they met. Finally, the needle flicked on and Luce sat beside them. Last time, Remmy remembered it hurting a little bit, but even back then, they’d been pretty good at withstanding pain. It was an old feeling, to them. “Oh, yeah...will do. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” they gave a thumbs up and a small smile. “I’m good with pain.” Didn’t even feel her start working. Didn’t even flinch.

Focusing on her work, Luce began to make the outlines, her strokes long and precise. She took care to apply even pressure, shifting with the slight curve of their shoulder as the machine hummed in her hair. But, after the first few brushstrokes, she could tell something was off. How could she not? As she wiped away excess ink with a paper towel, Luce was startled to see the skin she’d just tattooed looking… whole. Complete. As though the ink she’d just put underneath it had been there for at least a month, if not longer. “What--” She started to say, but quickly changed the words, “What made you decide to get this altered? It looks like you’ve had it for a while.” Luce said, making conversation as her eyes remained laser focused on the bizarre image before her. With every swipe of her machine, the buzzing hum, and wipe away, the image remained the same. A healed tattoo. What the fuck? Whatever Remmy was, they weren’t human, they couldn’t be.

Remmy stayed silent as Luce began her work. The thought that anything weird would happen didn’t even cross their mind. They could feel like buzz deep in their chest, but not the pain of the needle. Only the pen, drawing lines across their skin, like their skin was canvas made specifically to pain upon. Remmy had always loved drawing all over their arms as a kid, even their legs, even in school. Sitting bored and alone, they’d turn any piece of showing skin into a continuous line of doodles. Mostly just straight lines and zigzags, swirls and shapes. Luce paused a moment and Remmy stiffened. Was something wrong? “Wha-- oh, um...I’ve had it a couple years but I…” they tried to relax, hands unclenching. “It just felt right? It felt like it was time, I guess. To let them...to let it go.”

As Remmy talked, Luce continued to tattoo their shoulder, still frowning. What the fuck was this person? Their skin felt normal, at least, as far as she could tell. Were they a hunter? Hunters healed quick, she knew that much. Or some other kind of weird creature. She knew just from hanging around Ulfric that werewolves healed quicker than most, but this was like an instant thing. Weird. Definitely weird. But, it honestly made her job a little more interesting, a little faster too. “Mhm. Makes sense. Give yourself closure, but honor them.” She said, as she continued to add base outlines. The lines were coming quick and easy, the ink taking to the skin without problem. And it really didn’t seem as though the tattoo was bothering them-- usually people would flinch a little bit, even if they tried to stay still. “What do you do around town, Remmy?” She asked, making conversation.

“Yeah,” Remmy repeated quietly, “closure.” They knew that altering a tattoo wasn’t going to magically make everything okay, but it was a step in the right direction, right? It had to be. They knew if they could just put this all behind them, everything would be okay. If they could just stop thinking about what had happened. If they could just remember. “Oh, um-- I’m an overnight security guard, mostly. I help my friend around his office, too, for a little extra cash,” they said, remembering they needed to message Nate soon, see how he was doing in all this eternal night stuff. Hoped he was staying safe. “He owns his own architecture firm. It’s pretty neat! He’s a little nervous, though, so I take care of his chores and stuff around town and the office.”

“Night shift security guard and odd jobs? You must drink a lot of coffee.” Luce commented as she finished the last few outlines, completing the new dog tag that would be connected with the others. The shoulder wasn’t a spot that usually bothered people, but when you were working over and over, people tended to at least feel it. And Remmy wasn’t even reacting. Weird. Maybe they just had dead nerves or something? She’d tattooed over scars before, tattooed people who’d been through shit. Maybe that’s what this was. But, why the fuck were the lines healing over so quick? “Nice. Must be nice working for an architect, what with you saying you like buildings.” She said as she added some basic shading.

“Well, the overnight thing is only part time,” Remmy commented. “Plus, I don’t really sleep a lot anyway...gotta do something with my time, right?” They almost shrugged, but stopped themselves. Moving was probably a bad idea. “Oh, yeah! It’s great. I like looking at his stuff. He does a lot of environmental and green design, it’s really neat to see. I never really knew that was a thing till he showed me.” They smiled at the thought. They loved looking at Nate’s stuff and could only wish they could do something like that. “I dunno. I guess I just really like, like..geometric things? Like shapes and lines and tessellations stuff. They just...make sense in my head.”

“Got insomnia or something?” Luce asked, leaning back to take a good look at her handiwork. It was coming along a lot faster than she thought it would. Damn. “Hm. That’s pretty cool. I’m no architect, but I can respect environmental design.” She didn’t know shit about what went into designing a house like that, but it was cool that there was someone in White Crest who did. The designs would probably be really interesting to look at. “Makes sense to you? What do you mean by that?” She asked. The conversation was interesting, but she was mostly asking because it would allow her to be a bit… more intense with her work. She wanted to try something out. Picking a spot that needed to be darker, Luce pressed down, applying just a bit more pressure than she normally would and watched Remmy for a reaction. No matter how macho they were, this would get some kind of response. Most clients acclimatized to the pain and pressure, so if there was a change… they’d notice.

“Something like that…” Remmy mumbled. That’s what the doctor’s had first told them when they’d been in the hospital, but now they were questioning everything about that year and a half alone, recovering. Was anything they’d said true? “It’s super neat! You should check it out sometime. There’s lots of stuff on Google about it.” They turned their head a bit to see if they could see Luce before looking back forward. “Oh, um-- it’s kinda hard to explain? But like...I can like, look at something and know how it all like, works together? Usually mechanical things, or like...um...infrastructure? Or, what do you call the insides of buildings? Uh...foundations! Building foundations. Things with like geometric volumes and stuff. Like I can look at most puzzle boxes and just....know how they work. It’s...I dunno. It just makes sense in my head.” They paused, feeling the increased pressure, but not moving or saying anything, not wanting to mess her up. “How, um-- how’s it going?” they asked after a moment.

“That sucks. I’m in the same boat. Not all the time, but sleeping is,” Luce let out a sigh as she wiped away more ink. “An elusive bitch sometimes.” And moving in with her sisters hadn’t made that any better. At least back in her cabin, she could wander around her house as much as she wanted. She didn’t want to poke her head out of her room and risk running into Nell or Bea in the middle of a fight, so she was stuck in her room most nights. “Don’t move.” She warned, pulling her hand back from their back before resuming once they’d turned in place. Listening to them continue to talk, she squinted in confusion. Was this some kind of supernatural thing? Or were they just super logical? When they didn’t react to the change in pressure, her expression of confusion only deepend. What the fuck. But, when they spoke up, she eased up. “Just had to do some deeper shading. It’s all good. Should be done soon, by the way.” She said

“Oh, I-- I’m sorry. It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” Remmy said back, letting out a little sigh. They’re fingers plucked at a loose thread on the chair. Pausing to hold perfectly still when Luce asked them to, making sure they didn’t mess anything up. They turned their head to rest their cheek against the rest of the chair. Tried to imagine the lines Luce was tracing into their skin, closing their eyes to try and feel the pressure more. Little prickles, but no pain. It felt more like someone was dragging a pencil down their skin. “Oh, uh,” they opened their eyes again, blinking, “no worries! I’m good. But yeah, cool, great! I can’t wait to see it.”

“That’s just how it goes sometimes.” Luce said, eyes focused on the tattoo. The rest of the session went by without any problem, though she still couldn’t figure out why the fuck they were healing so quickly. What the fuck kind of supernatural creature were they? Pushing the thoughts out of her mind, Luce finished up the shading work, kept her hand steady and her pressure nice and light as she got the details just right. And, for good measure, she added the same kind of shading around the original tattoo. She touched up the lines of the dog tags, went over the lettering, and added some depth to the image so it worked with the rest of the tattoo. Shutting off the machine, she wiped off the last bit of ink before standing up. “Alright, we’re all done. Take a look in the mirror and let me know what you think.” Luce said, turning to give them some privacy.

The minutes ticked by slowly, it felt, but in no time at all, Luce was declaring it done. Remmy’s mind had drifted during the lull, thinking back to when they’d all first gotten the tattoos. Darius was originally the most nervous one, and he’d only agreed after Remmy had said they could get theirs together. They’d even held hands during the process, wincing and clenching hands tightly. They were pretty sure he’d bruised their hand but it didn’t matter. They’d done it together. A silent promise. Remmy blinked when Luce finally spoke up again. Shifting slightly, they waited for Luce to turn around before wiping the tears that had gathered behind their eyes and heading over to the mirror, turning to look at it. If it was possible, their breath woulda caught. The intricacy of the design was something to behold. And the way it had turned something so...mechanical into something worth looking at, Remmy could only stare. More tears coming, but they quickly wiped them away again. Now wasn’t the time. “It’s...it’s amazing. You do amazing work,” they finally said, heading back over to their shirt and slipping it on, leaving the binder off for now. They remembered the last time the guy said to not wear anything that would rub for a few days. “I...thank you. So much.”

Luce waited patiently for Remmy to look at the tattoo, taking the opportunity to throw away her gloves and clean up her machine. Silent seconds ticked by, until they spoke up, letting her know that she could turn around. “No worries. Thanks for giving me a cool project to work on.” She said with a nod. It was a better use of her time than just sitting around aimlessly until her next appointment. And she still had time to grab something to eat before she had to get back to work. Grabbing a card and sharpie from her desk, she walked over to shake their hand. “If you ever decide to get another, here’s my card. It’s got a link to my portfolio for you to check out whenever.” Luce wrote down her cell number on the back. “And my number.” Whoever this person was, they were an interesting one. Talking to them outside of work might mean she could figure out what the fuck they were. “Anyways, the gal up front will ring you up, should be about $275.” She said frankly. At the end of the day, job’s a job. And she was getting paid for this.

Remmy took the car gratefully, giving a soft smile. “Thanks! This is great. I’ll definitely check it out and like...let my friends know about you.” They pocketed the card, making sure to keep it safe, looking at Luce. “Um-- thank you, again. It’s-- this was helpful.” They turned to leave again before stopping to look back at Luce. “I, uh-- it was nice to meet you. Really. I hope people stop cancelling on you, cause like, you’re pretty awesome.” They gave a crooked smile before turning to finally head out. “Promise I’ll leave a good tip!” And maybe this had been an impulse, but at least it had been their own decision this time. And maybe it was going to fix everything, but now, at least, it didn’t weigh so heavy on their shoulder anymore.

#p: iai #p: remmy mcallister

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contrabbandiera-di-elia · 5 years

Text

Doodles

I’m full of Elippo energy recently, so I did this thing on my phone. It may be full of mistakes because I’ll probably bother my beta only if I decide to post it on AO3, but I guess it’s still readable.

Based loosely on this thing which made me believe Elia can draw really well, at least in the cartoonish style, and some ‘different style challenges’ I’ve seen recently.

Happy Birthday, @azozzoni! I hope you’ll like it! 🎁

—

“What’s that?” Asked Filippo, picking up a piece of the paper lying on the floor among Eleonora’s papers. She was doing general cleaning, as she used to do always a few weeks after the end of the school year. She was organizing the notes and other kinds of papers, deciding which ones she wanted to keep because they may be useful in the future, and which were to be thrown away because they’re useless. This year Edoardo was helping her, as he was so called cleaning specialist, or at least he claimed to be.

At first glance, Filippo thought what he had picked up was just a piece of paper full of unimportant doodles. But then he took a closer look and realized these were quite interesting drawings. All of them presented one person but in different styles of drawing. All of them were cartoonish. Some of them he recognized, like Winx Club or Adventure Time, but most of them he didn’t. They were mostly black and white, but he knew precisely who they presented. That hairstyle, that striped shirt, and most importantly – red lips, the only thing in every drawing that was not black and white. It was obviously Eleonora.

“Oh, I completely forgot about it,” he heard over his shoulder, as the person in question studied the sketches. “It’s Elia’s. One time he was waiting for Martino at the radio’s room. He got a bit bored and asked if he can draw me. It was not quite what I expected to see, but I liked it, and he let me keep it.”

“It’s good, actually. But I’d never tell Elia could be an artist.”

“Right? I was surprised myself. But when I asked him, he said it’s just a hobby.”

“Who’s Elia?” Asked Edoardo. He didn’t even look at them from where he was putting the notes Eleonora decided to keep into a binder, but Filippo could hear this minimal jealousy in his voice. Well, it was quite understandable. He probably wasn’t too pleased to hear that some random guy spend some considerable amount of time drawing his girlfriend even if these were just cartoonish sketches.

“Martino’s friend. Oh, please, don’t tell me you don’t recognize him! You saw him multiple times!”

Edoardo frowned, but then suddenly he seemed to match the name with the right face. His girlfriend's irritation probably speeded up this process.

“Ah, this Elia! Okay, that changes everything.” Eleonora rolled her eyes at that but didn’t say anything.

Filippo was still looking at the drawings. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked them a lot. They were done with a black and red fineliners (Filippo’s guess, and he knew a thing or two about artistic tools) and in a very clear way. There was no single line made with a pencil, everything was put straight on the paper using only the fineliners. Nevertheless, there were almost no mistakes. Well, maybe there were some slight shortcomings here and there, but Filippo had to pay close attention to even notice them. And the longer he was looking, the more fascinated he was. As he counted, there were seven different drawings, and he inspected all of them acutely. He was never a fan of drawings, neither cartoons, but he found these few little figures interesting and funny. He started to be a bit jealous of his own sister having something like that made about her. Elia had surely put some work and consideration into that, even though it was just a thing he did out of boredom.

“Filippo?” Eleonora’s voice brought him back to the reality out of his thoughtfulness. “If you like it so much you can have it.”

“I don’t need a piece of paper full of your face. I have too much of it every day, darling,” he sighed, putting the drawings aside. “I just think it’s nice. I like how it's done, the style and everything, but also I think it's quite interesting someone took their time to do something like that for the person he barely knows. You know, gazing at you for long minutes and everything. Are you sure Elia doesn't have a thing for you?”

“Elia? No way. He was just bored, and we were the only two people in the room, so it’s not like he had a lot of models to choose from,” she said, not even slightly bothered. Edoardo, on the other hand, seemed to be bothered for the both of them.

“I hope so!” He announced from the other side of the room. Eleonora ignored him, focusing on her brother.

“Hey... Is it me, or you look a bit down? Is it about Dario? Maybe you should talk to him after all or...”

“No,” Filippo answered quickly, shaking his head. “Dario is a closed chapter. It doesn’t make sense anyway. He needs someone calmer and more mature, he said it himself. And I need someone who’d be able to keep up with me. Someone more spontaneous, more confident, more... you know.”

“I know,” she claimed. She did. She knew her brother long enough to know what kind of person he needed in his life. And she hoped he’d find this person someday.

Filippo was never into birthdays. Or rather, he was never into his birthdays. It was simply not a big deal. His parents never remembered, and he never fully got over it, so there was this dose of disappointment every year. He was trying to get rid of it by getting his friends, hitting some club and finding someone to spend the night with, but it was never his dreamed birthday. There was no special birthday parties, no singing ‘Happy Birthday’ over the birthday cake with a group of friends, no more than one present, so it was pretty sad.

The only thing that made everything better was the existence of Eleonora. She always remembered, she was singing ‘Happy Birthday’ over the birthday cake or at least suitable replacement of a one, she was coming up with a present. So every and each year Filippo was grateful for having her because he knew without her none of his birthdays would make any sense.

But that year Eleonora outdid herself. Completely.

Filippo came home from a university with a plan of getting together with his friends and going out, and the last thing he expected to see in the living room was Eleonora with Martino and their respective significant others singing ‘Happy Birthday’ in the most unsynchronized way he had ever heard.

“Look what we have for you! And no, you definitely didn't expect it,” said Martino, as he and Eleonora came up to him with something that was supposed to be Filippo’s present.

It was wrapped in a paper, but judging by the shape, it could be a painting. Or a large photo. Or maybe some framed poster. He looked at Eleonora and Martino suspiciously, but they only hurried him to unpack it, both seemingly impatient. That made Filippo unsure because Eleonora and Martino being excited over the same thing couldn't end up well.

Fortunately, he was wrong.

After he ripped off the paper, he saw a bunch of drawings drew on a framed bristol board. He quickly realized it was exactly what he saw among Eleonora’s papers some time ago – a bunch of drawings presenting one person in different cartoon styles. Except that there was no seven of them, but probably about twenty. And they were sighed, so he knew which drawing was made in which cartoon's style. Moreover, no black and white with small additions of red, but colorful, and made with much more care and precision. And they didn’t present Eleonora. They presented Filippo.

He carefully studied his own face in multiple cartoonish versions. Winx Club Filippo, Adventure Time Filippo, Simpsons Filippo, Flinstones Filippo, Sailor Moon Filippo... And in the middle of the frame, slightly bigger than every other drawing, was Filippo drew in unsigned style. Probably author’s own style. Elia’s style.

“And? What do you think?” Asked Martino, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Filippo looked at him quickly before turning his eyes back to the drawings.

“It’s... wow, it’s great, seriously. I love it,” he said finally, his eyes tracing every drawing as if he couldn’t believe it was all him. It was a bit weird to look at his own face like that, but interesting nevertheless. “Did you get Elia to do that?”

“Well... yes. But we were helping."

“We just provided him with materials and occasionally some ideas,” commented Eleonora making Martino roll his eyes.

"Well, that's still some kind of help," he decided with a little shrug.

"I think we actually did him a favor, " Niccolò cut in, a mischievous look in his eyes. "He seemed to be quite eager to draw you. I'd say he enjoyed it definitely more than..."

"Oh, come on, Nico," Martino didn't let him finish, hitting his arm playfully. "The most important thing is that Filo enjoys it. Now let's get to the cake." That made Edoardo happy.

"Thank you! I went through a lot of effort to get a cake that has a rainbow both inside and outside. I want to see if it was worth it."

They all spent the whole afternoon eating and talking, but for some reason, Filippo couldn't get the author of his birthday present out of his head. He wanted to believe the reason for that was the gratefulness, but the truth was that Niccolò's words still lingered on the back of his head. He tried to ignore them, but they were coming back to him all the time. Finally, he decided it's pointless just to sit and think about it and decided to do something about it. He was feeling a bit stupid asking Martino for Elia's number to 'thank him for the effort and all,' but in the end, he got it, so he decided to at least try and see how the conversation will go.

After a third signal, Elia picked up with a simple “hello?” Filippo cleared his throat, suddenly feeling uneasy. He wasn’t even sure why exactly he wanted to call him in the first place. But there was no turning back. It’d be stupid to leave Elia hanging at the other end. Nobody liked dead calls.

“Hi, it's Filippo,” he said, but before he managed to add anything to that, Elia spoke up.

“Hi! How did you like the drawings?” He asked, seemingly excited to hear the answer. Filippo couldn’t help a smile forming at his lips.

“I love it, seriously. It’s amazing. Thank you so much for making it.”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you like it. I’m not sure why Eleonora and Martino wanted so badly to have it as your birthday present, but I guess as long as you enjoy it it’s fine.”

“I’m thinking about hanging it on my wall, to be honest,” confessed Filippo, because he was, in fact, thinking about it. It'd be wasting art not to have it hanging on a wall.

“Woah, so much?”

“So much,” he nodded, even through Elia couldn’t see it. Then he decided to take the risk and try going a step further. It was his birthday, maybe he could get some birthday luck or something. “Listen... I thought maybe I could get you a coffee as a thank-you?”

“No way,” Elia said quickly, and Filippo wanted to punch himself for even asking that. Of course. But before he got to back off and say he was only joking or something, Elia continued. “That’s a present. You don’t need to get me anything in exchange. They asked me to do that, I had nothing better to do, I actually enjoyed doing it a lot, so I don’t need any sort of payment from you.”

“But still,” insisted Filippo, suddenly feeling brave again after those words, “I’d like to thank you in person. Don’t think about it as payment. Think about it as a... nice meeting with a receiver of your art.”

Elia’s laughter reverberated in his right ear and made him a little gooey inside. He closed his eyes to compose himself. That was interesting.

“Okay than. Let’s do that.”

When a week later Filippo was laying in his bed, Elia’s lips moving along his neck, Elia’s hand working on a zipper of his pants, Elia’s drawing hanging on his wall right above the desk, he vowed to himself he’ll never ever refuse Eleonora when she asks him to help her sorting her notes.

#skam italia #skamit #elippo #elia being an artist #filippo moping #eleonora being a good sister #edoardo being a dork #martino knowing everything better #niccolo noticing small things #happy birthday azozzoni #i tried my best #my fic

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