symbolism_egg: (Evil Devi ; anonymous_proxy)
[personal profile] symbolism_egg
Summary: Devit, relying on Rhode's romantic advice, becomes determined to communicate his crush on Tiki by stabbing him in the eye.
Prompt: Sarcasm
Rating: PG-13 for violent themes
Disclaimer: The D.Gray-man series and characters don't belong to me.



“Oh Tiki, you are so cool.” Devit came up behind Tiki’s armchair and leaned over the top, dangling his arm by Tiki’s head. “With your tuxedos and your cigarettes and your ripping people’s hearts out with your bare hands.”

“Welcome back,” said Tiki. He was wearing his tuxedo and smoking. He did not look up from his newspaper. “How’d it go?”

“We-ell, we shot some people, but none of them were Exorcists,” said Devit. He absently ran a hand through Tiki’s hair, then looked at it in disgust when it came back covered in grease.

“Too bad,” said Tiki.

“Too bad!” Jasdero sidled up to Tiki’s armchair and pressed his gun to Devit’s temple. He had his usual mad expression.

“But Tiki’s just too badass to come home without the blood of Exorcists dripping from his fingers—well, figuratively. He is just so cool.” Devit yanked at Tiki’s tied-back hair and swore at its oiliness.

Tiki furrowed his brow at the newspaper and ignored Devit’s mockery. “Do you want something, twins?”

“We want you to remember our fucking names!” yelled Devit, pulling back from the chair. Jasdero laughed loudly beside him.

Leaving Tiki to his newspaper, Jasdevi returned to their room. Jasdero sat on the edge of the bed and took off his boots. Devit shut the door behind him and leaned against it, sighing.

“Tiki is so dense! Jasdero…you know how I feel about Tiki, right?”

Jasdero looked up. “Hee! You think he’s stupid and dirty?”

“That too, but that’s not what I meant.”

“You’re jealous because he’s stronger than Jasdevi, and he’s really cool, and he has friends, and he—”

“Shut up! No, not that part either!”

“Oh! Got it! You like Tiki!” Jasdero grinned wickedly.

“Yes, that part!” cried Devit.

Yes, Devit was in love with Tiki. Maybe it was his infuriating charm. Maybe it was the badass way he ripped out people’s livers. Maybe it was the amazing way he wasn’t dead despite being kicked in the head thirty-seven times (and Devit had subtracted the times he and Jasdero hadn’t been stealthy enough to succeed; the number was high even if you allowed for Devit’s inability to subtract).

Or it could have been the way he didn’t hate them despite being kicked in the head thirty-seven times.

Not to mention how Tiki looked damn fine in a tuxedo.

“See, you understand!” said Devit. “So why does he have so much trouble?”

“Because Tiki’s stupid!” replied Jasdero. With his toes, he fooled with the fuzzy top of his boots.

“Exactly! Now how am I supposed to work around that?”

Jasdero shrugged.

“And I just complimented him and he didn’t even notice!”

Jasdero’s brow furrowed. “Hee! But that was sarcasm! Right?”

“Yeah, so I was being sarcastic, but I meant it too. He should be able to tell!” Devit pressed his hand to his forehead in frustration.

“Tiki should be grateful you said those things out loud,” said Jasdero.

Devit flung his pistol to the floor. He sat on his bed facing Jasdero and put his head in his hands. “Godammit, what should I do…”

“Jasdero doesn’t know! He doesn’t understand these things very well. But Rhode knows these things! She might be able to help.”

Devit took his hands from his head and looked up doubtfully.

“Since Rhode is in love herself right now. Also she’s really smart, heehee!” Jasdero leaned forward to retrieve Devit’s pistol from the floor. He tossed it onto Devit’s bed.

Devit picked it up. “Since when is Rhode in love? But you’re right—it’s gotta be worth a try, anyway.”

They appeared without knocking or other preamble in Rhode’s room. Rhode was lying on her stomach in in bed reading a monthly romance magazine, which she shoved under her pillow when she saw who it was. “What is it, Jasdevii?” she asked, tapping a finger on her chin. She lounged on her enormous cloth-draped four-poster, which was covered with plump pillows.

Devit was overcome by a sudden fit of awkwardness. “Hey, Rhode…if, you know, there were this person…and you thought they were a fucking idiot…I mean, but not really…like, if they were, but you….”

Rhode waited for him to get to some sort of point, but unfortunately he ran out of words first.

“Hee! Devit came for advice!” said Jasdero.

“Well, why didn’t he say so?” Rhode tapped her finger. “About what?”

Devit made no reply, because he was busy turning red.

“Love!” said Jasdero, grinning.

“Shut up!” said Devit, and Jasdero ducked his swipe.

Rhode laughed until tears came out of her eyes. “Devit, are you in love?” she asked once she’d recovered. Her eyes gleamed at the potential of this development. She grabbed a pink, lacy pillow twice as wide as she was and hugged it to herself, peering over the top with calculating gold eyes and more than the hint of a grin.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Devit. “But…I was wondering about it. Like, if for some reason you fall in love with someone who’s too much of a dumbass to realize it, how would you tell them?”

“Hmm,” said Rhode, staring at him with her calculating expression.

“Not that I did,” added Devit.

“All right, I’ll tell you. There is one tried-and-true way to tell your loved one how you feel about them,” said Rhode, “and that is....”

“Love letters!” shrieked Jasdero.

“Wrong.”

“Flowers!?”

“Don’t be silly.”

Jasdero tilted his head, at a loss, while Devit made twitchy movements beside him. “Just fucking tell us, Rhode!” he demanded.

“Stabbing them in the eye,” she said.

“Does—does that work?”

Rhode nodded solemnly. “It’s a traditional method that’s been used by the Noah Clan for centuries. I’ve used it myself.” She smiled a secret smile.

“Ha! So you are in love!” said Devit, leaping on this chance to distract her.

“Did Rhode keep the eye?” wondered Jasdero.

“No, it grew back,” said Rhode. “But the important part is that now he knows how much I love him.”

Jasdero nodded, and Devit, having found the answer to his dilemma, said “C’mon!” and ran out the door to put his newfound plan into action.

Rhode shut her door before reaching under her pillow to retrieve the romance magazine. If Devit was really in love, she’d have something more interesting to entertain her soon, she thought. But in the meantime….

She idly doodled a pentacle above the eye of the latest serial’s leading man and wrote Allen’s name in the margins nearly three dozen times.


Devit went straight to the kitchen and picked out the largest carving knife. This was going to be easier than he’d thought.

He was now wielding a pistol in one hand and a carving knife in the other. Jasdero was already searching out another knife of approximately the same heft. Once he found one, they put their pistols away inside their jackets and went to Tiki with knives in their hands and an air of innocence all around them.

Tiki glanced up, taking in their switch to knives. He was still reading his newspaper, and Devit felt a warmth flood his face. It was all he could do to focus on the task at hand and not make snide comments about Tiki’s amazing ability to finish reading a whole sentence in under an hour. This ability to restrain himself had to mean he was in love. Devit took a deep breath. Just one small stab, that’s all it would take! But what if he got carried away and stabbed Tiki in the brain, or what he had of one? Then Tiki would be dead, and Devit’s confession pointless!

Never mind. He had to do it, or Tiki would never know how he felt. Devit tightened his sweaty grip on the carving knife. He felt Tiki’s eyes on him—probably wondering what Devit was doing—and Jasdero’s. He felt tongue-tied.

Luckily, he wouldn’t have to put any of his feelings into words.

Rhode sure gave good advice.

Devit looked Tiki in the eye and smiled his most charming smile. (He might even have called it coquettish, if he’d known what that meant.) At least, he thought it was charming and flirtatious. It actually made him look insane.

Tiki quirked an eyebrow and started to raise his newspaper in front of his face. Devit strode forward with his carving knife raised and plunged it through an article about crop quotas and straight on through towards Tiki’s right eyeball.

The knife met no resistance. Then Devit felt it sink into the armchair’s back cushion. A hand emerged from the newspaper and grabbed Devit’s jacket front. “Devit, if you’re going to attack me while I’m relaxing at home, I’ll take you outside, show you a real fight, and keep one of your kidneys as a souvenir. Then I’ll wander off to my laboring friends.”

No! thought Devit in a panic. Stay here! He struggled to pull himself from Tiki’s grip, but hitting at his arm and hand was like batting air, and he was caught. “H-hey, Tiki, it was just a joke! Don’t leave!”

“And don’t touch his kidneys either!” screamed Jasdero.

Tiki let the newspaper fall onto his lap, then reached up and took the hilt of the carving knife that looked as if it was protruding from his right eye socket. Unhurt, he pulled it free of the armchair cushion. “Stick to pistols, twins,” he said, and hurled the knife past Jasdero, whose hair was disturbed by the wind of its passing. Tiki let Devit free with a warning look that meant he was serious—Devit felt a thrill of admiration at seeing this expression, though he preferred it when it wasn’t directed at him—and turned on his heel, grabbing Jasdero’s jacket hood and pulling him along, out of the sitting room. Jasdero, distracted from his anger at Tiki’s threats, gaped at the knife stuck quivering in the wall.

Devit left it there. They weren’t going to need it. Obviously, it hadn’t worked.

Jasdero ran back into the sitting room and plunged his knife into the wall next to Devit’s.

Yes, he would need something else.


“Hee! Like candles?” asked Jasdero after the echoes of Devit’s shouting had died out in the corners of Rhode’s room.

Rhode looked bored by the shouting. “It worked for me,” she’d reassured him, and “Of course it will be harder with Tiki.” Devit had yelled that it was still her fault for giving him fucking useless advice in the first place, and continued to elaborate on this premise until he got hoarse.

“Now I need to try something else,” he’d concluded, despairing. He kicked Rhode’s bedpost.

Jasdero made his suggestion, and Rhode nodded. “I used a candle,” she said dreamily.

“Yeah, but now he’ll be on guard!”

“Then you’ll have to make certain he’s off it,” said Rhode.

“Breaking into his room at night –too loud,” said Jasdero nervously. He and Devit had their pistols out again.

“Don’t be stupid,” Rhode said. “I meant that you’ll have to find some excuse to have sharpened candles around.”

“Like—like—a candlelit dinner?” said Devit, feeling the excitement return once more.

“Sure, like that,” said Rhode.

That was just it, thought Devit. Tiki would never notice anything suspicious about Devit inviting him to have a romantic dinner together by candlelight. He might even—he swallowed as the daring of his plan sent a thrill through him—not bring Jasdero.

“I’ll ask him tonight!” said Devit.

“I’ll watch in case anything goes wrong,” said Rhode.


Devit had always wanted to bring his first date to a shooting range. This meant he could shoot them if the date went badly.

Still, this wasn’t so bad either. He and Tiki were dining in a redone sitting room where he and Jasdero had moved a table for two and a couple high-backed chairs from the dining room. A pink tablecloth had been draped over the table, and Devit had stolen some nice silverware. Jasdero, who hadn’t exactly understood the significance of a candlelit dinner, had decorated the room with black crepe paper and a banner reading “HAPPPPY BRITHDAY.” He had spelled it himself. Their finishing touch had been imagining up half a dozen bright red candles, just as sharp as Rhode’s. The candles drifted lazily through the air, giving the small room a cozy, romantic glow.

Tiki was already sitting across from Devit, which gave him a happy, embarrassed feeling along with the excitement of being on the verge of making Tiki realize his feelings.

“Are you going to spill me this ‘secret’ you said you were going to tell me?” asked Tiki, who looked like he couldn’t believe he was sitting there. Which was stupid, because he was sitting there, but Tiki didn’t have to worry much longer, because soon he’d know Devit’s reasons. Very, very soon.

Devit had his hands folded on the table in front of him; he tapped a finger on the top of his other hand. He’d put on fresh black nail polish and buffed it to a high sheen in the hopes that the reflections of candlelight would catch Tiki in the eye and dazzle him for just long enough. “Not yet,” he said.

Tiki lifted his eyes to look at the banner nailed to the wall behind Devit. “Is the secret that it’s your birthday?”

“Oh yes, because I get a year older every four months. Don’t be a dumbass.”

“Uh, good. I could have sworn it was in November or December or one of those other cold months….” He trailed off and looked down at his plate.

They hadn’t started eating yet. Devit had served himself an omelette and tortilla chips on his chinaware plate. Tiki had a raw carp and a cigarette on his.

“I made you your favorite food,” said Devit happily.

“Er...thank you.” Tiki lifted his silver fork and prodded at the black- and orange-speckled fish, which was about a foot long and draped over the sides of his plate, dripping pondwater on the tablecloth. Devit had in fact made it himself, if “made” meant “caught and clubbed with a pistol until it stopped flopping,” and “himself” meant “with Jasdero’s help,” which of course it always did. He was pretty proud of this. Maybe he should take up cooking.

The cigarette was for dessert.

Tiki let the dead carp’s tail fall—maybe he wasn’t that hungry—and looked around the room again. “Where’s Jasdero?” he asked, brow creasing.

“He went to peel some potatoes,” said Devit.

Tiki slammed his hands down on the small table and leapt to his feet in alarm. “Shouldn’t we go stop him!?”

He must have remembered the last known occasion Jasdero had peeled potatoes. There had been blood everywhere.

“No, no—what I meant was he’s making sure the servants peel them right,” said Devit, hastily grabbing Tiki’s wrist. (To his satisfaction, Tiki’s wrist was tangible.) He forced a laugh. “Like I’d ever leave Jasdero near a potato.”

Jasdero was actually watching from the adjacent room, through secret gaps in the sitting room bookshelf. Devit could feel him watching. It wasn’t as if he was really alone with Tiki. So far, Jasdero had followed their plans for strict silence, perhaps with the help of Rhode, who was spying too.

Maybe the potato excuse had been over the top. Still, Devit was satisfied to see that Tiki was willing to run and prevent major injury to his twin.

Tiki sank back into his seat. Devit looked away and batted a straying candle closer to the table. He’d been planning to wait until they’d finished dinner to mention that there was gin, which would cause Tiki to ask where it was, upon which Devit would point at the cabinet against the wall behind Tiki. Then, when Tiki turned around, Devit would send a pointy candle flying towards his eye.

He might have to run out of the room real fast afterwards if Tiki got angry sooner than he realized Devit’s feelings, but he was counting on Rhode to protect him and Jasdero—once she was done applauding.

Devit swallowed. He was starting to have misgivings about his brilliant plan. This was one of Tiki’s eyes they were talking about. What if he looked stupid in an eyepatch?

“What?” asked Tiki flatly.

Devit realized he’d been staring at Tiki so hard trying to figure out the answer to his question that the idiot had noticed. And he still had his doubts about stabbing Tiki in the eye, as simple as that sounded. He had to stall.

Devit took a bite from his omelette. Great. It was cold. Maybe…if he were lucky, his earlier attempt might have gotten through to Tiki. He’d technically stabbed Tiki through the eye, right? Maybe it just took Tiki longer than normal people to realize what this meant—yeah, that would be just like him. “Hey, Tiki—you remember earlier today?” he asked, not looking away from the chopped tomato bits in his omelette. His face felt warm.

“When you attacked me with a knife? Yeah,” said Tiki. He must have thought his carp was poisoned or something, because he still wasn’t touching it.

“Do you remember anything else? Like…did, did it remind you of anything?”

“It reminded me that you’re irritating.”

Devit shook his head. “No, like—did you feel anything. After I didn’t stab you.”

“Irritation. So did you call me here to apologize, or…?”

A profound sense of despair filled Devit. He doubted that even the power of eye-stabbing was enough to get through to Tiki, meaning that he was doomed to admire the older, taller, stupider, dirtier, more masculine Noah from afar. He slumped back in his seat and clutched his head, digging his fingernails into his scalp and suppressing the urge to call for Jasdero and complain about how idiotic Tiki was. This was so damn frustrating!

Devit fixed him with a fierce glare through his fingers. “You are just so smart, you know that, Tiki? You’re so damn smart you don’t even know why I asked you here!”

He could tell that Tiki was losing patience. “Did you want me to rip your brain out, or shall I leave you to your suffering?”

“Wait—no! I am apologizing,” said Devit, desperate. “With gin,” he said, pointing wildly.

Tiki twisted in his seat to look behind him.

Now! thought Devit, and lunged for the first thing that came to mind—the carp that was flopped over Tiki’s plate. He slapped Tiki in the face with the heavy fish just as he was turning around again. Tiki fell out of his chair, landing face-first on the carpet. Devit eased slowly out of his chair and stood over his dinner partner, maintaining his hold on the slippery tail in case he needed to beat Tiki with it again.

There was the sound of the door being flung open—Rhode ran in, followed by Jasdero. “Devit, you’re doing it all wrong!” cried Rhode, and a pointy red candle was thrust into Devit’s other hand.

Tiki sat up with a hand held to his cheek. There were scale marks there, and pondwater dripped down his face. “What the hell,” he said deliberately, “was that for?”

“Hurry up!” said Rhode, jumping up and down while Jasdero made a nervous sound behind her.

Devit looked between the sharp, faintly glowing candle and Tiki’s eye.

“Hurry up with what?” asked Tiki. He turned his glare on Road.

The idiot looked more confused than ever, thought Devit, and more angry. If he acted now…but Tiki was staring at him like that, ready to activate his ability and become insubstantial. He was bound to get upset even if it was a teensy little eye stabbing that he’d probably recover from anyway after a couple years. It was too risky.

Abruptly, Devit thrust the candle towards Tiki. “Uh, here. This is for you. It’s a present,” he added when Tiki showed no signs of taking it.

“And Tiki can have five more!” added Jasdero, catching Devit’s change of plan and pointing at the candles that were now straying from the small table. One bumped into a wall hanging knitted by the Earl, and Jasdero leapt over an armchair to retrieve it.

Tiki stood. He even loomed, which was annoyingly easy considering their height difference. “Devit, I’m going to take these candles and nail you to the bookshelf, and if you’re lucky it will be by your jacket. Then I’m going to walk out of this room and not be bothered by you, Jasdero, or Rhode for the rest of the week. Got it?”

Letting the candle float away from him, Devit gave a frustrated sight. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Not like I care,” he said as Tiki attached his left sleeve to the History shelf. Jasdero was trying to get past a large black Tease butterfly to rescue him—a rescue attempt hindered by how Devit wasn’t bothering to imagine up any carp-faced monsters to attack Tiki, and Jasdero wasn’t bothering to un-imagine the red candles, in case Devit still needed them. Rhode was watching from the settee, and it was obvious from her delighted smile that she was glad something entertaining was happening with candles.

“If I’m lucky, the bookshelf will catch fire,” said Tiki, and patted Devit on the head, to Devit’s near-murderous rage. “So long.” He shoved past Jasdero and went on his way, whistling. The Tease flew after him as if drawn in a slipstream.

“See if he’s gone first,” said Devit when Jasdero ran to him. His twin went to peer out the door.

Devit tilted his head in an attempt to see the candle pinning his hood to the shelf above him. The flame seemed awfully close to the books.

This was humiliating. He’d just exchanged six holes in his jacket for not being murdered by Tiki.

And for Tiki to not hate him quite so much.

Obviously he and Jasdero would have to contemplate horrible, murderous revenge. Someday.

“Rhode, your advice sucks,” he complained. It was her fault he’d ended up pinned to a bookshelf.

“I told you to stab him with a candle, not with a carp,” said Rhode. She still looked pleased by his current situation.

“I was doing it my own damn way!” said Devit.

“Oooh, and such an effective way it was,” she said.

Jasdero looked back from the doorway. “Tiki’s gone,” he said, and the candles vanished, plunging the room into darkness except for Jasdero’s headband attachment and faint illumination from the hallway torches. Devit stepped away from the bookshelf and unhappily fingered one of the holes in his jacket hem. “Now Tiki hates me even more….”

“That’s because Rhode’s stupid!” declared Jasdero as he dug into his vest and restored Devit’s pistol to him. Once they were pointing them at each other like usual, Devit felt a little better.

“You know as well as I that Devit did it wrong. See, if he’d actually managed to stab him in the eye….” Rhode gave a long-suffering sigh to indicate that only a complete moron could fail to stab someone in the eye.

“No, it’s Rhode’s fault! You gave bad advice!” insisted Jasdero. “Probably that stupid Exorcist doesn’t know about Rhode’s love, either!”

Jasdero’s light glinted from Rhode’s eyes, which were slightly less hooded than before.

“Jasdero can give better advice than Rhode. Jasdero thinks maybe people should kiss or say 'I love you' like in Rhode’s dumb person magazine with the—hee!—the naked people and pink covers, the one Dero doesn’t understand!”

“C’mon, Jasdero, let’s go,” said Devit. They should get out of there before Rhode got angry right back at Jasdero and pinned someone to furniture herself, because she was sure to do it through their flesh. Let the Akuma servants clean up the uneaten dinner, the crepe paper, and the carp underneath the settee.

They fled to their rooms, where Devit sulked and raged and Jasdero yelled about Rhode’s bad love advice.

Devit was so frustrated by the failed candlelit dinner that it didn’t even occur to him that Jasdero’s advice might have merit.


Tiki seemed to leave the house a lot the rest of the week. When he didn’t, Jasdero and Devit avoided him . They didn’t want to find out if he’d retaliate again, and besides, Devit was still sulking and wanted Tiki to know it. So Jasdero would scout the living room before they walked through it, and they went another way if Tiki was in there reading his newspaper or playing with his cards. They avoided Tiki’s room altogether. I hope he has a happy week now that I’m not around, thought Devit bitterly.

It was lonely, though, not being able to mock Tiki. They waited until Wednesday—three whole days, plus Wednesday morning—until Devit decided to chance it. Devit marched straight into the living room to show he wasn’t afraid (while Jasdero stalked in behind him with his pistol at the ready) and stood before Tiki’s chair with his hands on his hips, pistol dangling and jacket patched.

“Tiki…I hate you,” he said.

“I know.”

-----
THE END

To anyone who ever read and enjoyed one of my Noah fics--you have no idea how much I appreciate it.

It's been fun.

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