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badmusejail · 10 months

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Sasakibe Tadaoki Chojiro

INTRODUCTION

This has probably been the longest muse I’ve had, and revisiting and revising everything for him is taking a while.

I was fascinated by Sasakibe pretty much since he appeared; intrigued by how of all the lieutenants, we knew pretty much nothing about him, feeling that the lieutenant of the First Division had to be interesting in some way, right?

The lack of information also gave me a perfect opportunity to do whatever the hell I wanted.

I had so many questions about him. Why didn’t he fight in the biggest event in recent history? The Kido Squad could have certainly maintained the barrier. Yet, I couldn’t imagine Yamamoto condoning having someone weak as his second-in-command.

How I answered these questions varied. Like I said, Kubo’s world was one that held limitless potential for exploration. I wanted to try different things. I wanted to see how the world changed when you tweaked small details.

One of the ideas I repeatedly came back to was the idea of him being a Quincy. After all, a great deal of Kubo’s work had involved the idea of hybrids–what would happen if there was a Quincy/Soul Reaper hybrid? I did a lot with this idea. I toyed with it; I played with it, I adapted it to fit Kubo’s canon as it came out. It’s a concept I’m still fascinated with; still amazed that we never got a Quincy/Soul Reaper hybrid.

And this is the result of that work. Years upon years of writing, finally revisited and presented to a wider audience. I do hope you like what I’ve come up with, but if for some reason you’d prefer to write with canon Sasakibe, just let me know.

I also encourage you to take a look at the introduction / headcanon page for BLEACH in general!

Name: [REDACTED] Sasakibe Tadaoki Chojiro Age: 2239 Birthdate: November 4 Residence: First Division HQ, Seireitei Job: Lieutenant Gender: Cis Male Sexuality: Abstaining [Heterosexual] Height: 5’10” Weight: 146 lbs. Species: Human (Quincy/Soul Reaper)

APPEARANCE

An utterly mundane individual. Most people would say that Sasakibe is especially plain compared to some of the more elaborate individuals in Soul Society. He stands at about average height, with tan skin, and meticulously groomed gray hair and mustache. He wears a jinbaori over the standard shihakusho, along with a white turtleneck and armguards.

As a Quincy, Sasakibe wears a black suit that clings close to his form, with white robes on top of it. The robes have blue fur on the edges, and the top most layer drapes over his shoulders like a cloak, before tapering down into two strands that resemble the jinbaori he wears. The cloak is held together by two silver, circular clasps.

HISTORY

There are those that know history. Then there are those that have seen history.

The man now known as Lieutenant Sasakibe was born in a drastically different time, in a drastically different place, with drastically different people.

A holy people–wielding holy powers to defend humanity from the scum of Hell. This duty bestowed upon him was one he took seriously–to protect and defend was in his blood, and protect and defend he did.

Oaths sworn in blood to serve, to strike down with holy light the scourge of the world, the demons that yearned to prey upon people.

Young and naïve; perhaps–he did not understand why those strange entities, the SOUL REAPERS hated them so much. They had the same goal, after all–they wanted peace, they wanted to protect the world. Why did these people look down on them, shun them?

The decision to leave his people was not one he took lightly; but his duty, his vows drew him to a higher cause, to pursue peace even when it seemed impossible.

The idea was simple, as things so often were in youth. Find the Soul Reapers. Befriend them. And it would prove that their people were one and the same, that they need not quarrel.

So he studied them. He learned their culture, their ways–he learned what divided a Quincy from a Soul Reaper, and learned how to breach that divide, to be one of them. He learned their techniques and strengths. He learned the way of the blade, of the Kido, of the Shunpo.

He approached Eijisai-dono with a smile on his face, he rose to every challenge, he proved that blood aside, a Quincy was no different than a Soul Reaper–they could work together, they could live in peace.

And now, all he had to do was tell him.

…

He did not.

After all, when he returned home to his kingdom to find it in ash, destroyed by a demon wreathed in flames, how could he?

The Quincy had disappeared, along with his home and family.

Where else did he have to go?

And so, he stayed by Shigekuni Yamamoto's side. He's there when Seireitei is established; he's there when Central 46 is established, he's there when Soul Reapers join together to fight off the demon spawn of Hell and reenforces the chain; and he's there when the Quincy reappear, hellbent on taking over the World of the Living and the Soul Society.

And he made a choice.

King or not, he would not condone the warmongering ways of Yhwach. If that was what it meant to be a Quincy, then he would be one no longer.

And so he strikes Yhwach from behind, giving Yamamoto just enough time to turn the tide of battle. Yhwach defeated, the remaining Quincy disappear, and Sasakibe remained beside Shigekuni Yamamoto.

He's there when Yamamoto describes the Quincy as the scum of earth that need to be wiped out. He's there when the Gotei 13 is founded, he's there when the Quincy resurge again and refuse to listen to reason, and he's there when Soul Society gives the order to eliminate them.

He's there to witness the rise of Ichigo, he's there to witness the betrayal of Aizen Sosuke. He's there for the loss of Ichigo's powers, and he's there for the defeat of Aizen.

Maybe there are some things that he regrets. Maybe there are some things that weighs on him. But in a life as long as his own, that's inevitable. But in general, he's happy with who he is, with what he's done.

Even if he has some secrets.

PERSONALITY

Loyal and with a strong moral compass, Sasakibe is a man who prefers to act rather than speak. It’s not about the glory or the conquest, it’s about doing the right thing and most of his time is spent in the background, making sure things run smoothly and taking care of problems before they become a problem.

His reputation is beyond his concern; though he’s well aware that people think him any number of unsavory things–demur, a pushover, a weakling. In fact, it’s quite amusing when people finally realize that he’s anything but; that his silence does not mean cowardice, that he’s one of the few who will tell Yamamoto off and one of the even fewer who can get away with it.

Sasakibe is a master of finesse, of being unnoticed, of knowing how to manipulate the system to get away with certain things; of covering his tracks and disappearing without a trace, avoiding notice unless he wants to be noticed–and also knowing his limits, what lines not to cross, and when certain actions are appropriate.

The previously mentioned interaction with Yamamoto is a clear example–Sasakibe absolutely will bicker and disagree with him, but in private because he understands how important Yamamoto’s pride and the image of unity and strength is.

Although Sasakibe does have a sense of pride, both as a Quincy and as a warrior, he puts the fate of the world first, and he has no qualms fighting dirty or fleeing to live another day, especially in his older age.

Chivalrous and polite, Sasakibe does everything he can do be what he considers a good person. He does not like to fight and would prefer any alternatives if possible, but he knows how to fight and he knows how to kill.

META

You can probably guess that I was upset with Sasakibe’s death but probably not why you think. Really, I’m upset with how it was handled, and how we only got to learn about him after the fact, and how he was supposedly actually really powerful but we never actually got to see any of that.

His battle with Ichigo is a clear example–certainly, I can come up with some sort of justification (he was caught off guard, he didn’t actually want to fight, he was weakened from recently switching his abilities) but no matter what I do, it’ll feel forced because it really doesn’t make sense without seeing more of the character.

Although I do have a means of ‘explaining’ his death, I personally understand that it feels cheap and overpowered. So if you’d like to talk alternatives, just let me know.

I’ll probably default to this verse, i.e., his Quincy verse because I find it endlessly more fascinating, but again, if you want me to strictly stick to canon just give me a heads up!

POWERS & ABILITIES & EQUIPMENT

As both a Quincy and a Soul Reaper, Sasakibe has access to a wide range and abilities, with the caveat that he has to either be in his Soul Reaper state or his Quincy state and cannot use both powers at the same time.

Soul Inversion: Through deep meditation and heavy training, Sasakibe has the ability to halt and reverse the flow of reiatsu through his body, allowing him to switch between the abilities of the Soul Reapers and the Quincies. In addition, it means that he’s not only able to suppress his spiritual pressure, but halt it entirely, making him nearly undetectable by conventional means.

Reishi / Reiatsu manipulation: Sasakibe’s masterful control over reishi as a Quincy applies just as well to his mastry of reiatsu as a Soul Reaper, giving him very precise control of his powers and/or the surrounding area.

Spiritual Sense: Similarly, he has very keen senses and can detect even minor changes in a person’s reiatsu, usually able to determine the cause from a distance.

Blut: An ability inherent in the blood, Sasakibe’s blut vene is most usually active, even to a lesser extent while he’s in his Soul Reaper state. It likely played a part in his ability to withstand fighting alongside Yamamoto’s bankai in the past.

Quincy Cross / Zanpakuto: The items are one and the same, shifting state to match Sasakibe’s own.

Letzt Stil -- Gottesumarmung: One of the Quincy’s ultimate abilities, similar to the Soul Reaper’s bankai. Letzt Stil does not have the drawback of sealing the power of a deceased Quincy like it does for still living ones. Sasakibe gained the ability prior to his defection from Yhwach, and his ability to already access it played a major part in his ability to conquer bankai so quickly. Vollständig was developed long after he defected and he has no interest in learning the technique, and isn’t even sure if both can be learned.

Gottesumarmung takes the shape of a large cage, not unlike the dome of lightning generated by Kiko Gonryo Rikyu. The cage is several inches thick and is made of dense holy energy. A purely defensive form, most entities are disintegrated if they try to cross it without Sasakibe's permission. Though he can leave it to continue fighting, having it active is detrimental to his offensive abilities.

Gonryomaru: The shikai from of Sasakibe’s zanpakuto, Gonyromaru takes the form of a rapier capable of harnessing lightning.

Kiko Gonryo Rikyu: The bankai form of Sasakibe’s zanpakuto. Though the zanpakuto itself remains the same, its power is vastly amplified, influencing the weather itself and summoning a massive dome of lightning over Sasakibe.

Hirenkyaku / Shunpo: Sasakibe is capable of using either high-speed movement technique depending on which state he’s in.

Kirchenlied / Kido: Sasakibe is capable of using both forms of spells, and actually neither set are locked to their respective group, so he can use either at any time. They do tend to be more powerful when used in the respective state, however. He has a vast knowledge of the spells and their incantations, and can control and execute them to drastic effect.

Swordsmanship: Sasakibe is capable of fighting with both his zanpakuto or the Seele Schneider, though he prefers indirectly reflecting attacks and keeping a distance rather than fighting up close. In addition, Sasakibe always keeps a Seele Schneider on hand, just in case he needs to combat a demon and switching powers isn’t feasible. Luckily, few people in Soul Society recognize the tool.

Hakuda: Sasakibe is not a fan of fighting hand-to-hand, but was forced to learn the art by Yamamoto nonetheless, in order to be recognized as a master of all Soul Reaper arts. It’s not a skill he trains regularly.

Archery: Like any Quincy, Sasakibe is well versed in archery. His particular brand of Heilig Pfeil tend to hit fast and hard with a long recharge rate, much like the lightning of his zanpakuto. It is not well versed for combating multiple enemies.

Gyokofukusei [凝固複製]: An advanced Quincy technique that constructs an identical duplicate of a given object out of reishi. Sasakibe used this technique to flee from the battle with Driscoll while convincing Soul Society and the Wandenreich of his death.

Ginto and other artifacts: Sasakibe has a small collection of other Quincy objects, tucked away with the rest of his western collection. He generally has no reason to pull them out, but has it on hand in case of emergency.

Medallion: Depending on the exact timeline of events, Sasakibe recovers the medallion used to steal his bankai. Being a Quincy himself, however, Mayuri’s solution would also kill him, so it’s a work in progress figuring out how to actually regain the use of his bankai.

Multilingual: Sasakibe is fluent in many languages and conversational in many others, including English, Old High German, German, and French.

WEAKNESSES

Hollow poisoning: As a Quincy by blood, even if he's currently using the powers of the Shinigami, hollows are poisonous to him and could prove fatal. He does his best to avoid combat with them.

Close combat: Sasakibe is not an individual whose strengths are in close combat, and his first response if you try to get close will be to try to get away. Most of his techniques and abilities are best suited to a distance. (That being said, he can hit harder than you might expect thanks to Blut.)

#|| sasakibe | ichi buntai fukutaichou.#|| sasakibe | headcanon | taciturn noncombatant.#|| sasakibe | verse | quincy.#|| shared | headcanon | bleach.

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angstyjellybean · 2 years

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9-1-1 “May Day”

✨spoilers✨

I still can’t tell if I like that woman still

She actually listened good

Oh this bitch is taking credit for that

I love this sweater on May

Bobby is so damn protective for all of his kids I love it

Thank god the mustache is gone

May has had enough and I’m loving it

That’s where the fire is gonna start isn’t it?

IS JOSH GONNA GET A MAN?!

Oh no it’s gonna go down from here isn’t it? Time out and then BAM FIRE

Is Carson not actually good?

BREAK THE GLASS EDDIE

Poor Terry holy shit

Oh god poor Carson

I wanna smack this woman Jesus fuck

MONDAY HEY

Han and Han heeeyyy

Those chairs looks comfy as hell

Buck heard May was still up there and was like oh hell no

I’m sorry Carson is also not accounted for

He was in the room

Eddie getting a little jab in

Y’all better not make Chimeny loose another brother to a roof venting system

She’s getting psychotic tf

Cap watch out good lord

Bobby is not about to loose another child

God venting makes me anxious

NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN

Oh god fucking dammit

Buck and Eddie shot off

I’m gonna start crying please no

Oh thank fuck

God I love the 118

I’m not doing well and apparently none of them are either especially Buck and Cap

Honestly love this episode

(Would like some Maddie but I’ll deal)

Get you a man Josh

I don’t think Alberts gonna stick with this but I think it’ll be good for him to give it up for now

I knew Chim would have a little breakdown cause like ya know, his other brother

Bobby and his ladies in his life

YES MAY YOU TELL HIM

Taylor and Lucy content ooooooo

“She’s a peach” YOU KISSED HER BOYFRIEND SHES ALLOWED TO BE PISSY

May, oh baby

What did Jonah do?

#911 spoilers #911 fox #chimney han #athena nash #may grant #evan buckley #eddie díaz #bobby nash

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sugar-petals · 2 years

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⊹ sub!levi’s kissing style ♡

⇢ GENRE | modern au

↳ NOTE this turned out as an essay on his self-care routine if he lived in this day and age 😂 if you want to know about his 10,000 shaving methods and levi’s philosophy on chapstick, this post is for you.

words. 4.7k

warnings ⚠️ dom!reader (not specified), domestic steamy bits, making out, light corruption kink, finger sucking, STI mention, oral sex

⊹ read it on ao3

To get the obvious and seemingly trivial out of the way first. As absolutely everyone expected: Levi brushes his teeth more than just religiously. Way longer than the recommended two minutes. He just goes above and beyond. All techniques, at every angle, in every corner, because he treats his dentist’s word like the gospel. Plaque gets no chance, baby. Flossing is a must. Levi’s motto is, if you wanna do something romantic, something unromantic has to be done first. Always has a mint ready when you’re out and about together. Without his chapstick, Levi feels practically naked. Bruised or dried up lips are an absolute no-go for him, which is why he applies it as soon as he feels even the slightest bit of ruggedness. He fights his urge to bite them quite successfully. Although: He’ll let it slide when it means he can look sexy to you doing just that. He’s figured that out in two seconds. Levi has great lips to begin with. A perfect middle mark between very puffy and very slim. Feels good, and fits perfectly all over your body. He doesn’t seem like the type to get nasty, but Levi knows best how to follow some proper instructions, so.

His chapstick rule also happens to be his guideline for potential stubble. The enemy! You don’t care about a lil’ mustache situation going on, but he does: Adamantly so. Because his hair is so black and shiny, it always shows by sheer contrast. Levi’s beard growth is by no means super extreme, but he’s still paranoid about it. Other people’s body hair kind of fascinates him, but on himself? Everyone thinks he can’t grow a beard at all with the meticulous process he’s got going. With his typical ‚pure concentration‘ face, Levi Ackerman can shave on the passenger seat with you hitting 60 miles per hour. Of course, not anywhere above the speed limit — gotta obey the law at all times, unless the law is legitimate shit of course. His personal shaving laws are unbreakable, though. He has a GQ Man of The Year routine and the crisp suit fashion to back it up.

In any case, he takes all his sanitized razor items with him wherever he goes. No exception. An extremely stylish collection of bags frequently serves as his go-to cosmetic treasure chest, unless he stores his shaving lotion within the mysterious insides of his perfectly ironed tuxedo. That tux really holds an entire parallel universe of cleanliness inside of it. Levi is the most high-maintenance boyfriend on the planet, but he has his reasons, and you get them. Kissing with a beard? Completely unacceptable to him. A crime. „Only over my dead body!“. Hell, when it comes down to it, giving head? In his mind, a beard would be an absolute taboo. He would hate to scratch you in any way, considers it „especially dangerous, tch“. Levi does not like to talk smooth but he shaves smooth: Count on it.

Any friction to your face, little skin tears from negligent shaving… not on his watch. No, no, and no again. He will bend over backwards for your extra dose of comfort. He considers your face a holy ground. You frequently retort his face is the holy one, beautiful as it looks after all, and given the amount of wellness treatments it’s subjected to. Sometimes, you massage his features with some rose hip oil, well, just because. Wearing super soft gloves, of course. Levi is very well aware that you feeling up his little softie cheeks and that cute but very well-defined nose makes you go a little… wild for him. And it’s couple bonding time, touching time, you know how intimate those things are. It usually escalates into something completely unhinged anyway, since Levi is just alluring head to toe, you just wanna mount him.

Truth be told: You have a habit of being either very passionate, horny, or rough on him, or everything at once, which is why Levi will insist on banishing even the lightest 5’o’clock shadow on his perfect jaw. He considers lasering it all off, actually. He loves how there’s technology for that, and he’d pay for fast results. But since he’s noticed that you like the way his beard looks, he’ll only do the pits, and waxes his pubes anyway. This man seriously likes pain, can handle the sting, and it’s such a radical messy-to-neat method, why else would he do it. For all other emergencies, Levi is ready to trim all stray hair with an expensive chrome-plated safety razor, which tells you how seasoned he is with his upkeep. Expert skin care 5000. His face is top tier touchable from all the cleanliness that goes into it. Levi’s doing all of that like clockwork to the point where he tells you: „Just take it for granted already. I’m not gonna walk around like a fuzz ball on legs, the fuck“.

Let me tell you: That aftershave smells heavenly. He specifically consulted a barber to pick out the best balm for him. Levi could be considered a professional in the field himself, but he always looks for a second opinion. If the salon is squeaky clean and therefore trustworthy, that is. But we digress: Heavenly aftershave. Not too spiced or in any way acerbic, but woody and just right, so refreshing. Unless cleaning fluids are concerned in his kitchen, Levi hates aggressive scents that are disturbing to the nose and skin. Too harsh, too damaging, and not at all pleasant when kissing. Your man has no intent of getting high on the fumes, either. He prefers some lighter products that resemble sage and patchouli lotions rather than using a full-on cologne. Not applying it on the neck area though, because you like to bite and lick him there. It’s only for the spots that keep you on your toes. Long story short… Levi invests a lot in smelling great to you, and it works.

All that shaving and teeth brushing— And you never saw him with any chewing gum on his own accord, though. Levi thinks that’s not so classy. After you passed him a strip from your own supply, ‚cause you think chewing it looks so cool, Levi would cave in and blow some bubbles. Yes, he would. Absolutely disgruntled, but if it looks cute to you and no one else is looking, he will do things like that. Anything to make you laugh, as long as the chewing gum doesn’t get stuck on his face when it bursts since „that’s just disgusting“. You take a forever-memorizing photo of it and call it a day once Levi complains how the whole thing is tasting kind of stale. You stick with chewing it yourself, and Levi being a anti-gum representative for the most part.

Fancy lil’ man he is, he even carries a tiny stick of concealer and a special instant-tincture to get rid of any blemish, bump, or uneven spot on his face. He might have trouble sleeping sometimes, but the heavy shadows under the eyes are dealt with. Unruly brows get combed in shape with a little brush he bought, too. Having your two faces up and close when you kiss, and his brows are a messy mess? He can’t accept it. Everything needs to be taken care of and presentable, full stop. Levi is the last person to tag his weekly instagram snapshots — no, portraits — with #onfleek, but he does pay special attention by plucking them properly into his thin signature 1920’s brow lines. Stray hairs, not a chance. He thinks that’s absolutely barbaric. The bathroom mirror, Levi’s pocket mirror, and the top-of-the-ceiling passenger seat mirror are his territory. You’re checking out Levi, and Levi checks himself out. As you may have guessed, he’s not above slandering other guys who look whack and would have the opportunity to do much better. Levi is a certified gossip man, always cursing: „How could someone wear a full fucking neck beard and dare eat any food with that“. Hell hath no fury like a Levi disgusted.

Last time you went to a bar together in the hopes of spending a relaxed evening, he got so worked up he recommended a beard shampoo to the bartender himself, outraged at the state of hygiene in this establishment. Levi’s perfectionism truly knows no limit, which is why he’s one powder puff away from beating his face from ear to ear in the morning. There’s no such thing as a crooked eyeliner stroke when he gets to work. Always neatly drawing across his waterline, he has a set routine here as well and always wants to look the same. Jesus, he’s a smooth man to a fault. And believe me, the products he’s using are not cheap. He feels bad spending a lot of money on it, but would hate to settle for low quality combs and gels and exfoliants. No wonder he looks so good and put-together 24/7. Which is why Levi is kissable all around the clock. After all, he’s always preparing to be prepared. It’s sweet seeing him fuss with his little lip balm until he’s happy with the result. These lips are inviting, you can’t lie, it’s almost frustrating. In your eyes, Levi is always the best-looking man in the room, no objections.

Levi does all that grooming and moisturizing and brushing and cleansing to look extra handsome, which seriously worries you. A handsome man making himself even more handsome is a menace to your daily state of mind. What to even do when he’s so sexy and distracting head to toe. You can barely work from home without always turning your head when he walks by sweeping the floor or comes fresh out the shower (Lord have mercy). And Levi does two sets of five-minute blitz showers everyday, morning and night time. That means he’s walking around with just a towel and pristine white slippers not once but twice. You can’t just say to your eyes, come on you folks, don’t look at Levi all times of the day. That’s just not possible. He’s very much eye candy, and provokes a certain level of jealousy wherever he goes. With his latest addition to his beauty collection — insoles — he has reached a literal new height of being extremely hot. You tried to talk him out of disliking his petite stature, but kissing like this is also nice. Sure, you have to get used to the change, but it’s minimal anyway, and Levi prefers kissing when seated, hugging. Or half-lying down. Delicious.

The topic of teeth. Oh boy. Among his efforts to polish them to an unattainable ideal, and despite the fact that Levi never shows his teeth to undeserving humankind, it’s a big ole deal. Levi spends time reading up how to go about their very existence. When it comes to kissing, he wants to find out how to safely ‚use‘ them, and as far as oral sex is concerned, he wants to know how to delete them from his mouth entirely, these sharp little bastards. Levi thinks it’s kind of unfair how many parts of lovemaking involve that many risks lurking left and right. He would not bite down on your tongue even if you told him to, and Levi is generally the most obliging person ever.

He keeps on fretting and he keeps on overthinking. You finally tell Levi, first: Just ask me and not a random dudebro online article, and second: A little nibbling never killed nobody. „Yes it did,“ is how he’ll exaggerate his worries, so you end up with the only logical solution: distributing the roles. Levi doesn’t attempt any form of love bite except clamping down on his own lip sometimes, but you do. That way, things are balanced, and everyone does what they want. Your boyfriend, brilliant on the receiving end as ever, is a lot more biteable than he looks. All over, in fact, and can handle a lot of your appetite. Long as his concealer can keep up with the hickeys the next day, it’s fine, he’s okay with it. Now you know why he wears a cravat and doesn’t show any skin.

Initially, Levi was too insecure going beyond a simple, ultra chaste little peck. No tongue. No head tilts. No furious slobbering and moaning. No making out. No hand action. No out of breath stuttering. No nothing, just a little brushing of surface for basically half a second. He would often lean in with his eyes anxiously closed, waiting for something to happen. You would rise to the occasion and cup his face for a Levi-friendly forehead kiss. Which was greatly received, and had several benefits. It caught him by surprise, was harmless enough, and thus left him aching for a little more. It’s kind of funny because it really made him think, „Wait. Is that it? Did it happen already? Wasn’t that fast?“

Contrary to popular belief in his friend circle, Levi does not have a raging inner closet pervert waiting to be unleashed. He’s loving and he’s longing, but he’s not a crass lover, and most certainly not dirty. Sure, anyone is aware, he might have a direct way of talking, but in the bedroom, talk is cheap and he’s a virgin. The pervert in this relationship, that’s you. Look at you thirsting over this comely little gentleman. You can’t deny it. Corrupting, ruining, and toying with Levi is your job, as much as it is to romance him a little for good measure. He does the rest. But you do the move of pulling him on your lap to put a hand up his shirt, or to tip him over into your sheets so you can be all over him. If you want to use tongue and hear him moan, he’ll step up when the moment arises.

Levi has no clue what kind of making out would be appropriate for him to initiate, so he’s happy if you show him the way. Freshly shaved and perfumed as he is, things can’t go wrong, really. Kisses glide just so much better when there’s chapstick involved. Levi has to grow into the idea of using some lube in the future, but the prospect of sucking on your fingers just won’t leave his thoughts. You suggested it, he thinks about it. At first, he thought it was going too far. But after a good night’s sleep with the scenario in mind, it dawns on him that it could be whatever he wants. He imagines how your thumb and digit caress his lips all around, and how good that feels. He’s ashamed about his fantasy, but he has met his match. You have no qualms to spoil him, and ask him out loud what he’s been deliberating about. Seducing Levi is so gratuitous, he already feels so much that he is yours.

His own kissing style, when prompted that is, can be best described as accurate, tense, surrendered, and deeply emotional. Watch out because he will shed his tear. It’s really welling up inside Levi all day. He’s absolutely feeling it. You can hardly stick with an impersonal quickie there, Levi needs plenty of dedicated attention. Where he was only comfortable with brief and shallow contact at first, Levi is now tangled up in minute-long French style tonguing down, the absolute never-let-you-go-again kind. Your guy’s back of the pretty head will be buried in one big pillow, and Jesus Christ does he hold on tight to your sleeves. That’s the tension I was talking about. Levi’s body freezes shut in the moment to hold all the feeling, the way it is. You can tell how much suspense releases all at once. Hence the crying. That Levi is so feely and dependent, man he just has to let it out. The degree of your obsession with him is the degree of his neediness. Levi. Just. Needs. You.

Stoic in daily life, bedtime kisses Levi becomes almost helpless. That’s why repetition is your best friend. Too much variety would scare him. Slow and intentional kissing is right up your alley as a couple. The same, and the same, and the same, and the same movements follow up one another. Predictable sex is what Levi enjoys the most. So, kissing, whether it’s foreplay or aftercare or in between, is just like that at best. Which is a bit at odds with you liking to shower Levi with pleasant surprises, showing him new things, or having your way with him. Talking it out is difficult because Levi is taciturn, shy, and moody, but the body never lies. That’s the easiest form of communicating to you. No worries about it, then — you will notice when he feels self-confident enough to follow along with something. And it’s not like keeping your kissing constant is a bad thing.

The opposite is true. It really builds up and makes you feel like you’re ready to explode. The intensity is just mind-blowing. Frequently, it just leaves you speechless. Levi is not an average kisser anymore when the head tilt comes in. You teach him by example how to move his tongue back and forth or all around, and subtle ways to avoid the teeth clashing (oh my is Levi grateful about that), while at the same time having that incredible string of eye contact below some very heavy lids. You’ll be surprised at how fast his legs will wrap around you. Levi’s trusting.

The more you pin him into the mattress, the more it’s gonna feel like an absolute rush. Even if you kiss in slow motion. Levi can’t handle the absolute onslaught of hormones, so he’ll wind up a muffling and groaning mess who needs to lie down in your lap from exhaustion way afterwards. On the one hand, you love the thought of wearing him out a little, but also… you don’t want to overwhelm him entirely, my god is he susceptible to those heavy emotions, they just take over. Except either party’s passing constant gas from some very extravagant food (guess why Levi has a particular style of cooking), which would make Levi run for the hills, spooning is never a bad idea. To come back to earth and just ground this. Levi’s often dizzy. He can’t comprehend what he just witnessed. He’s impressed by you, and feels like you really managed to body talk to him like that. Kissing so deeply is a proof of love to him, and Levi himself wants to be dedicated so badly, it hurts.

In terms of oral sex, Levi is the unsurprising, undefeated authority of cleaning you up with his tongue. It’s not like he’s the most whimsical headmaster of all time so the mess won’t be extreme in the first place. Levi’s definitely on the calm and collected side in the way he moves, he’s got tunnel vision. No rush here, it’s well-thought out. But you know he’ll go the extra mile to keep you stimulated. Hands on your thighs, Levi can make this last for a whopping 30 minutes if you want to. The magic thing is, he has an uncanny ability to work with his partner’s stamina, whether it’s good or decent or non-existent. The high art of making a well-placed pause every now and then. Taking a break lifts you on that high, and it’s peak edging which Levi is all into. He knows the pleasure is better if he draws it out and makes you cum in the right moment, when you’re all fired up from minutes of Levi lip service.

Unlike with regular kissing, your boyfriend is a fast learner here. Nobody would possibly expect that, but it’s true. Once everything is nice and squeaky after a shower together, he’s confident and he’s ready for a taste. He’s picky with the kind of wash he’s using on you, but it’s what he does best: No need to crook a single finger, Levi cleans you up beforehand, all on his knees for better access. You’re worried he’ll slip or hurt his legs, so he stays rested on a soaking wet pillow with the warm rain of showerwater streaming down from overhead. He does his job, and he does it well, and off you go after towel-drying. He really takes his time. Phone switched off, and late in the day so nobody comes knocking on the door.

You’d think it would make him more antsy than kissing, but no. It’s a paradox. Not being face to face takes off the pressure and nervousness. He does what you say, and he does it with delight, but he can also figure it out on his own. Legend has it that Levi takes to the the interwebs to research some techniques to level up. Your man is not above studying an infographic. He’s tried watching videos, professional and amateur, but ended up being grossed out and bored because it’s always the same. But his main concern is: It’s not you he’s looking at, but other people’s business. And these actors are tearing each other down with hate and force which is clearly not love to him. Instead, Levi winds up reading e-books and personal blogs to see what people extract from their experience.

He’s not bombarded with sticky close-ups he’d rather not want to see, or some awkward body functions, but still gets a detailed account. Making some mental notes each time, and oh yeah he has good memory, Levi tries his best not to be naive and blue-eyed. Sex is a serious topic to him, and he knows people think oral doesn’t have to be protected, and he wants to be in the know about the do’s and don’ts way beforehand. At first, reading those things had him so flustered, and he couldn’t believe that he’s investigating all that, and typing in all of those lewd things. He still does it in secrecy, but you can tell he’s looked something up when his mouth does something it hasn’t done before.

It’s clear to you that Levi is researching all over the place, and a mysterious package that arrived some time ago contained a bunch of books. Books! Who knew, in this time and age. They stay locked in Levi’s desk until further notice. With fountain pen and red markers, Levi weeds through the pile of information after his lunch break, and compares it with the writings he searched up online. Having his own opinion and viewpoint is very important to Levi, although he obviously won’t contest a hard fact. That’s why he keeps on reading and reading. His friends think he’s an absolute nerd for knowing the pH of your cum, but just you wait. Being literate definitely shows in the sheets. We stan an educated man. Soon enough, Levi really knows what he’s doing and that’s hot. He’s figured out the sweet spots and no-go areas faster than you can say microfiber cleaning duster (his favorite household item, but we digress).

Levi really has it down, that mouth is really working some wonders. He’s not uncontrolled, and he’s not boring. He’s as focused and proper as you think he’ll be. You’ll be teasing him of licking like an absolute kitten cuz it’s true. A kitten drinking his milk is what sums it up best. For the record, though. Levi is not childish. It just looks so cat-like because his head is very small and rounded, he’s got those feline eyes, and his shiny hair really doesn’t help. He frequently ties it back so it won’t obstruct him, which is why his undercut isn’t really kept that short anymore. Gotta stay sophisticated. A steadfast hair tie is Levi’s best friend. He doesn’t mind to leave it open when you kiss in a more casual setting (he’s insanely pretty with long hair, but who didn’t anticipate that). But when it comes to doing the do, nothing should be out of place.

Levi turns up at the clinic two times a week with his sleek black car and nothing can stop him. Always testing, always check-ups. Levi knows his doctors by their first name, and knows their pets’ first names, and he has a whole blood bank of his set up there. He once ran into your impossibly slutty neighbor Eren, who promptly — and full of worry— asked you the next day if Levi is fucking someone else when you met at the garage. You said relax, Levi just looks after himself a bit more than the average person, he just picked up his PrEP today. Eren is totally bewildered as to what exactly Levi is prepping there in broad daylight. You say my God Eren you ignorant little manlet, those are pills for 99% HIV prevention. Why are you at the clinic and not requesting that, you’re fucking Armin and Mikasa.

Eren is as good as back at the doctor’s office again to catch up, and you tell Levi to give this wilding brat a pep talk some time. Cleanly as he is, STIs are just about Levi’s masters degree. He can tell you the difference between Hepatitis A, B, C, D, and E without even flinching. Eren didn’t even know that C, D, and E existed, assuming it’s a joke. You have a boyfriend to be proud of, and even if Levi overdoes it with the hygiene, sex is a good time. Recently, Levi has been requesting some seemingly naughty things from you. Turns out he just read about getting spit in his mouth. „It’s good for my immune system. Do it. Those are enzymes.“ Seriously. He’s hilarious. Whatever scientific experiment that’s supposed to be, Levi can really stick his tongue out wide for being such so correct about any sexual things. This madman doesn’t even break eye contact. You better aim well.

Being preoccupied with your spit and its benefits isn’t the only thing on Levi’s mind. He is clueing ways to keep up with your insatiable sex drive, man. Look at you touching and groping Levi whenever and wherever. PDA is restricted to hand holding and gentle kissing, but once you’re back in that car? All over him again. He’s just too tempting in his shirts and tuxes. The motto is: No reason to clean when you’re just not filthy! You wanna give Levi a reason to tidy himself up back at home. It’s no fun otherwise, and looking at him alone makes you want to act like a born degenerate. Geez, be honest. You want to strip him of his high and mighty morals, and strip him off that cravat to look at the marks you’ve been leaving, too. Levi knows he signed up for a possessive partner and has no problem with the fact that his ass is faithfully owned.

The life of sin and depravity, baby. This honey boy just looks far too good. His latin dancer body just provokes utter debauchery, legs legs legs, shoulder shoulder shoulder, waist and more waist. Oh my god, he’s the entire menu. Levi is so small and nimble, while at the same time being stable, you can twist and turn him around to your liking all day. Any pose will do while you’re kissing, your man is flexible to an extreme. Although nobody will ever catch him, Levi can do the splits and break his back having his toes touch the back of his head. But let’s not talk too much about his arch — this post is about things he can do with his lips. So. Whether it’s cuddling kisses or heated kisses, Levi is gonna mold himself into your arms.

He’s not picky where he’ll kiss your face, but he likes to do it one at a time. No messy shit. Purposeful is the word. Levi wants to savor the moment. Fuck sloppy, he needs goosebumps. Levi is one desperate romantic and a bit of a relationship scaredy cat: Let him have his pace. He has a habit of nodding himself into a rhythm. You can count on both these hands being wrapped around you very tightly. Levi’s not immune to romance, long as nobody else knows how you kiss each other.

more levi writings: masterlist

#levi x reader #levi fluff #levi smut #levi #levi headcanon #levi ackerman #sub!levi #aot #snk #aot fluff #aot smut #gn reader #dom!reader #levi x dom!reader #attack on titan #levi modern au #levi domestic au

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professorspork · 3 years

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it’s the Kentucky Derby this weekend! I know exactly one thing (and one thing only) about horse racing: those animals get the most ridiculous names in the world.

there was obviously only one place my brain could go with this, so I now present to you:

The Potential of 2021 Kentucky Derby Horses as Names of RWBY Weapons, Ranked

Known Agenda

A strong contender! Kind of in the vein of Due Process; definitely evokes that distinctive RWBY feeling of being vague but menacing word salad. Perhaps some kind of pen that turns into a billy club? or a gun-gun 9/10

Like the King

ugh -5/10 no courage of your convictions. Don’t be like the king, be the king! This is your morningstar-cum-trebuchet-cum-beretta! be proud of it!

Brooklyn Strong

Perfectly good punchline to a stucky joke; meh name for a weapon in a world where Brooklyn is not a place 0/10

Keepmeinmind

edgy Huntsman Academy students who buy their weapons from Hot Topic name them things like this and then use them to asymmetrically cut and style their bangs 3/10

Sainthood

was going to say “sturdy but boring” and give a relatively high score because this is a very Mr. Teeth sort of title but then I thought what if it’s a butterfly knife disguised as a crucifix? Grimm don’t flee from holy symbols but I do want to give credit to the vibe so that goosed it over the top, 11/10

O Besos

Kisses! and Pyrrha’s weapons are Greek, so why not a Spanish title? a weapon named after a kiss feels very gay, and the O makes me think circle shape so yeah these are nesting chakrams for sure 8/10

(oh god there’s so many more of these, did you know there’s TWENTY HORSES in the Kentucky Derby? that feels like too many horses!!!)

Mandaloun

Now this is exactly the kind of shit we’re looking for. Much like Myrtenaster, I had to google this to know what the hell it is. A kind of window, apparently! love the inherent threat of defenestrating your enemies 15/10 especially if it’s a mandolin that’s also a mandolin

Medina Spirit

can truly only be the name of a horse (or maybe a fancy cigar brand, or a yacht); resists all attempts to apply it to a weapon. -10/10 but it doesn’t care because it’s free like the wind.

Hot Rod Charlie

Excellent name for a member in Junior’s dumb gang back in Vale (remember Junior?) but not a very good name for a weapon. Bonus point for evoking the idea of a transformer-esque weapon that’s also a vehicle, though! (*cough cough* Yang Rebuild Bumblebee And Do This Challenge) anyway 1/10

Midnight Bourbon

can’t believe Willow Schnee was actually a Huntress and never told her daughters! 4/10 bc it’s still a bad name for a rapier, try harder Willow

Dynamic One

gonna give this 6/10 for the psychological warfare of your enemy always waiting for the moment when you suddenly pull out Dynamic Two

Helium

...does the periodic table of elements exist on Remnant? this would be a hilarious name for a flamethrower seeing as helium is not flammable 2/10

Hidden Stash

ngl I love this name so much. so many options! sounds like a compact makeup case that turns into a cache of nukes or something. or what Sun and Neptune called their cop mustaches when solving crimes. 20/10

Essential Quality

you know how when you get a pet from a shelter they have a sad shelter name and you have to give them a new one with more personality? this is the kind of name that comes with store-bought Atlesian weapons 0/10

Rock Your World

almost certainly one of many names Yang considered for Ember Celica along the way, but not even she could pull it off -100/10

King Fury

Finally, a king that calls itself a king! the ONLY thing this could be is brass knuckles that spell K I N G F U R Y over the fingers and turn into spring-loaded katar blades and also revolvers. not sure why this isn’t on the show yet 50/10

Highly Motivated

this is the comment Weiss got next to every grade she ever received at Beacon, though the prized “pleasure to have in class” always eluded her. it gets the same score she always got in her late-for-a-test stress dreams: why-can’t-you-be-more-like-Winter/10

Super Stock

-3/10, sounds like a discount grocery store despite the fact that “stock” could evoke either the part of the gun or the restraining device. Better name options for a RWBY weapon that’s half gun stock and half stock-stock include Tacitus (2019 Third Place @ Kentucky Derby), Empire Maker (2003 Second Place), or Shackleford (2011 Fourth Place)

Soup and Sandwich

Perfect name, no notes, 10000000/10, dual-wield machetes and no explanation given if I had my druthers

Bourbonic

Sadly “Midnight Bourbon” already cornered the bourbon-themed market here, so we must come up with a new angle. I like the rhyme-y nod to the bubonic plague, but I’m not sure how one would weaponize that? Unless we go full Cordelia and have a box with PLAGUE written on it and chase people with that. Actually no that’s sensational 10/10

#rwby #i spent two hours on this no one look at me

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leebird-simmer · 3 years

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Russian Fairy Tales Test Prep: Pagan Deities

The best known roster of pagan deities is that of the six whose statues Prince Vladimir erected upon assuming sole rule of Kiev. According to the Primary Chronicle for the year 980, he “placed idols on a hill, outside the palace yard, a wooden Perun with a silver head and a golden mustache, and Khors and Dazhbog and Stribog and Simargl and Mokosh.” Missing from this list is Volos/Veles, the god of cattle (skotnii bog) and commerce, whose veneration in ancient Rus’ is widely attested, and by whose name (along with that of Perun) ancient Russians ratified oaths.

A. Perun/Bog

1. equivalent to: Lithuanian Perkunas, Latvian Perkons, Albanian Perendi, Roman Jupiter, Greek Zeus, Hittite Teshub, Norse Thor/Donar, Celtic Taranis. 2. primary sources: Nestor’s Chronicle, mid-6th century Procopius, 10th-century Varangian treaties 3. primary story: a creation myth, in which he battles Veles, the Slavic god of the underworld, for the protection of his wife (Mokosh, goddess of summer) and the freedom of atmospheric water, as well as for the control of the universe. 4. dvoeverie: After Christianization in the 11th century CE, Perun's cult became associated with St. Elias (Elijah), also known as the Holy Prophet Ilie (or Ilija Muromets or Ilja Gromovik), who is said to have ridden madly with a chariot of fire across the sky, and punished his enemies with lightning bolts.

In Slavic mythology: Perun was the supreme god of the pre-Christian Slavic pantheon, although there is evidence that he supplanted Svarog (the god of the sun) as the leader at some point in history. Perun was a pagan warrior of heaven and patron protector of warriors. As the liberator of atmospheric water (through his creation tale battle with the dragon Veles), he was worshipped as a god of agriculture, and bulls and a few humans were sacrificed to him. In 988, the leader of the Kievan Rus' Vladimir I pulled down Perun's statue near Kyiv (Ukraine) and it was cast into the waters of the Dneiper River. As recently as 1950, people would cast gold coins in the Dneiper to honor Perun.

Appearance & Reputation: Perun is portrayed as a vigorous, red-bearded man with an imposing stature, with silver hair and a golden mustache. He carries a hammer, a war ax, and/or a bow with which he shoots bolts of lightning. He is associated with oxen and represented by a sacred tree—a mighty oak. He is sometimes illustrated as riding through the sky in a chariot drawn by a goat. In illustrations of his primary myth, he is sometimes pictured as an eagle sitting in the top branches of the tree, with his enemy and battle rival Veles the dragon curled around its roots.

Perun is associated with Thursday—the Slavic word for Thursday "Perendan" means "Perun's Day"—and his festival date was June 21.

Reports: The earliest reference to Perun is in the works of the Byzantine scholar Procopius (500–565 CE), who noted that the Slavs worshipped the "Maker of Lightning" as the lord over everything and the god to whom cattle and other victims were sacrificed.

Perun appears in several surviving Varangian (Rus) treaties beginning in 907 CE. In 945, a treaty between the Rus' leader Prince Igor (consort of Princess Olga) and the Byzantine emperor Constantine VII included a reference to Igor's men (the unbaptized ones) laying down their weapons, shields, and gold ornaments and taking an oath at a statue of Perun—the baptized ones worshipped at the nearby church of St. Elias. The Chronicle of Novgorod (compiled 1016–1471) reports that when the Perun shrine in that city was attacked, there was a serious uprising of the people, all suggesting that the myth had some long-term substance.

B. Kors/Xors/Chors

- most frequently mentioned Slavic god, after Perun - dvoeverie: appears in the apocryphal work Sermon and Apocalypse of the Holy Apostles, which mentions Perun and Khors as old men; Khors is said to live in Cyprus. Khors also appears in the apocryphal text Conversation of the Three Saints, a text which combines Slavic + Christian + Bogomil traditions. In it, he is referred to as “an angel of thunder” and it is said that he is Jewish. - his functions are uncertain and there are multiple interpretations of his name.

1. Sun God hypothesis: associated with Dazhbog; in The Tale of Igor’s Campaign, Prince Vseslav, who “came to Tmutarakani before the cocks" and "Khors ran his way", traveled from west to east and thus reached the castle before the cocks crowed, and in this way "overtook" the Sun; his name means “rays.”

2. Moon God hypothesis: Prince Vseslav was called “wolf” and his journey takes place at night when the sun is absent from the sky; his name does mean “rays” but they’re the moon’s rays and not the sun’s rays.

3. Fertility God/Vegetation hypothesis: link between Thracian & early Slavic cultures indicates Kors is more of a Dionysus-type figure, who dies and is risen; like Dionysus, Dazhbog (who Kors is often linked to) has a double nature (Eastern Slavs assign him solar qualities, while Southern Slavs assign him chthonic qualities).

C. Dazhbog

1. equivalent to: Khors (Russian/Iranian), Mithra (Persian), Helios (Greek), Lucifer (Christian) 2. primary sources: John Malalas, The Song of Igor’s Campaign 3. family: Son of Svarog, brother of fire god Svarozhich, husband of Mesyats (the moon), father of the Zoryi and Zvezdy 4. primary myth: He resided in the east, in a land of everlasting summer and plenty, in a palace made of gold. The morning and evening auroras, known collectively as Zorya, were his daughters. In the morning, Zorya opened the palace gates to allow Dazbog to leave the palace and begin his daily journey across the sky; in the evening, Zorya closed the gates after the sun returned in the evening. 5. dvoeverie: There was a belief that each winter he would enter people's homes and gift gold to those who had been good. That belief passed into Christianity, especially in Serbia, and this visitor was called Položajnik. During Christianisation, his cult was exchanged with the cult of Saint Sava, while Dažbog became lame Daba - the most powerful demon in Hell. Reasons why he was demonized are various, possibly because his cult was the strongest in Serbia or because he was considered also as the god of Nav, the Slavic underworld and world of the dead.

In Slavic mythology: Dazbog was the Slavic sun god, a role that is common to many Indo-European people, and there is ample evidence that there was a sun cult in the pre-Christian tribes of central Europe. His name means "day god" or "giving god," to different scholars—"Bog" is generally accepted to mean "god," but Daz means either "day" or "giving."

His totem animal was a wolf, therefore wolves were sacred animals and killing them was considered a great sin. Wolves were considered to be messengers of Dazhbog, while he himself could shift into a white wolf.

According to one myth, Svarog became tired of reigning over the universe and passed on his power to his sons, Dazhbog and Svarogich.

Appearance & Reputation: Dazbog is said to ride across the sky in a golden chariot drawn by fire-breathing horses who are white, gold, silver, or diamonds. In some tales, the horses are beautiful and white with golden wings, and sunlight comes from the solar fire shield Dazbog always carries with him. At night, Dazbog wanders the sky from east to west, crossing the great ocean with a boat pulled by geese, wild ducks, and swans.

In some tales, Dazbog starts out in the morning as a young, strong man but by the evening he is a red-faced, bloated elderly gentleman; he is reborn every morning. He represents fertility, male power, and in "The Song of Igor's Campaign" he is mentioned as the grandfather of the Slavs.

4. Stribog

Very little is known about him, although he was clearly very important to early Slavic peoples. In the epic ”Slovo o polku Igorove “ it is said that the winds, the grandsons of Stribog, blow from the sea. This leads to conclusion that Stribog is imagined as an old person, since he has grandsons. The grandsons were the winds from all directions.

Eagle was the animal consecrated to Stribog. Plants consecrated to Stribog were hawthorn and oak. When pledges were made, Stribog was often warrantor. Festivities in Stribog’s honor were organized in the summer as well as in the winter. They were probably organized in the summer in order to invocate winds and rain, while in the winter they were organized in order to appease him. In the period of Christianization Stribog’s characteristics were overtaken by St. Bartholomew and Stevan vetroviti (windy).

5. Simargl/Semargl

- may be equivalent to Simurgh in Persian mythology, who is portrayed similarly (winged lion and/or dog). He can also take human form. - God of physical fire (as opposed to celestial fire; that’s Svarog) - He is said to be the husband of Kupalnica (or Kupalnitsa), goddess of night, from whom he got two children: Kupalo and Kostroma.

Zorya, solar goddesses who are servants or daughters of the deity Dazhbog, keep Simargl chained to the star Polaris in the constellation Ursa Minor. Should he break free and destroy this constellation, it will cause the world to end.

Why would he be worshipped in Rus’, you ask? A couple of possible answers: a. Eastern Slavs borrowed Simargl from Sarmatian-Alanian people and worshiped him. b. Eastern Slavs never worshiped Simargl. Just at that time, a significant number of Kiev residents were of Khazar and Sarmatian-Alanian origin. Vladimir included their deity in the pantheon to get their support.

6. Volos/Veles (also Vlas, Weles Vlasii, St. Blaise, or Blasius)

1. equivalent to: Velinas (Baltic), Varuna (Vedic), Hermes (Greek), Odin (Norse) 2. primary sources: The Tale of Igor’s Campaign, old Russian chronicles 3. primary myth: a creation myth, in which Veles abducts Mokosh (the Goddess of Summer and consort of Perun, God of Thunder). Perun and his enemy battle for the universe under a huge oak, Perun's holy tree, similar to both Greek and Norse (Yggdrasil) mythologies. The battle is won by Perun, and afterward, the waters of the world are set free and flowing. 4. dvoeverie: Velia remains a feast of the dead in old Lithuanian, celebrating the border between the world of the living and the world of the dead, with Veles operating as a role of guiding souls to the underworld. The battle between Perun (Ilija Muromets or St. Elias) and Veles (Selevkiy) is found in many different forms, but in later stories, instead of gods, they are complementary figures separated from one another by a furrow plowed by Christ, who converts them. Veles is also likely represented by St. Vlasii, depicted in Russian iconography as surrounded by sheep, cows, and goats.

In Slavic mythology: A second creation myth associated with Veles is the formation of the boundary between the underworld and the human world, a result of a treaty forged between Veles and a shepherd/magician.

In the treaty, the unnamed shepherd pledges to sacrifice his best cow to Veles and keep many prohibitions. Then he divides the human world from the wild underworld led by Veles, which is either a furrow plowed by Veles himself or a groove across the road carved by the shepherd with a knife which the evil powers cannot cross.

Veles is associated with a wide variety of powers and protectors: he is associated with poetry and wisdom, the lord of the waters (oceans, seas, ships, and whirlpools). He is both the hunter and protector of cattle and the lord of the underworld, a reflection of the Indo-European concept of the netherworld as a pasture. He is also related to an ancient Slavic cult of the deceased soul; the ancient Lithuanian term "welis" means "dead" and "welci" means "dead souls."

Appearance & Reputation: Veles is generally portrayed as a bald human man, sometimes with bull horns on his head. In the epic creation battle between Velos and Perun, however, Veles is a serpent or dragon lying in a nest of black wool or on a black fleece beneath the World Tree; some scholars have suggested he was a shape-shifter. In addition to domestic horses, cows, goats, and sheep, Veles is associated with wolves, reptiles, and black birds (ravens and crows).

Reports: The earliest reference to Veles is in the Rus-Byzantine Treaty of 971, in which the signers must swear by Veles' name. Violators of the treaty are warned of a menacing punishment: they will be killed by their own weapons and become "yellow as gold," which some scholars have interpreted as "cursed with a disease." If so, that would imply a connection to the Vedic god Varuna, also a cattle god who could send diseases to punish miscreants.

7. Mokosh

1. loosely comparable to: Gaia, Hera (Greek), Juno (Roman), Astarte (Semitic) 2. epithets: Goddess Who Spins Wool, Mother Moist Earth, Flax Woman 3. primary sources: Nestor Chronicle (a.k.a. Primary Chronicle), Christian-recorded Slavic tales 4. dvoeverie: With the coming of Christianity into the Slavic countries in the 11th century CE, Mokosh was converted to a saint, St. Paraskeva Pyanitsa (or possibly the Virgin Mary), who is sometimes defined as the personification of the day of Christ's crucifixion, and others a Christian martyr. Described as tall and thin with loose hair, St. Paraskeva Pyanitsa is known as "l'nianisa" (flax woman), connecting her to spinning. She is the patroness of merchants and traders and marriage, and she defends her followers from a range of diseases.

In Slavic mythology: The origins of Mokosh as mother earth may date to pre-Indo-European times (Cuceteni or Tripolye culture, 6th–5th millennia BCE) when a near-global woman-centered religion is thought to have been in place. Some scholars suggest she may be a version of Finno-Ugric sun goddess Jumala.

Mokosh, sometimes transliterated as Mokoš and meaning "Friday," is Moist Mother Earth and thus the most important (or sometimes only) goddess in the religion. As a creator, she is said to have been discovered sleeping in a cave by a flowering spring by the spring god Jarilo, with whom she created the fruits of the earth. She is also the protector of spinning, tending sheep, and wool, patron of merchants and fishermen, who protects cattle from plague and people from drought, disease, drowning, and unclean spirits.

Although the Great Goddess has a variety of consorts, both human and animal, in her role as a primary Slavic goddess, Mokosh is the moist earth goddess and is set against (and married to) Perun as the dry sky god. Some Slavic peasants felt it was wrong to spit on the earth or beat it. During the Spring, practitioners considered the earth pregnant: before March 25 ("Lady Day"), they would neither construct a building or a fence, drive a stake into the ground or sow seed. When peasant women gathered herbs they first lay prone and prayed to Mother Earth to bless any medicinal herbs.

Appearance & Reputation: Surviving images of Mokosh are rare—although there were stone monuments to her beginning at least as long ago as the 7th century. A wooden cult figure in a wooded area in the Czech Republic is said to be a figure of her. Historical references say she had a large head and long arms, a reference to her connection with spiders and spinning. Symbols associated with her include spindles and cloth, the rhombus (a nearly global reference to women's genitals for at least 20,000 years), and the Sacred Tree or Pillar.There are many goddesses in the various Indo-European pantheons who reference spiders and spinning. Historian Mary Kilbourne Matossian has pointed out that the Latin word for tissue "textere" means "to weave," and in several derivative languages such as Old French, "tissue" means "something woven." The act of spinning, suggests Matossian, is to create body tissue. The umbilical cord is the thread of life, transmitting moisture from the mother to the infant, twisted and coiled like the thread around a spindle. The final cloth of life is represented by the shroud or "winding sheet," wrapped around a corpse in a spiral, as thread loops around a spindle.

Our brief survey of agrarian holidays indicates that the peasant’s central concern is fertility and that special rites in the cemetery and/or rites involving a symbolic death & resurrection are a major component in these celebrations.

Belief in the absolute sanctity of “Mother Damp Earth” (Mat’syra zemlia) has been central to folk belief throughout the centuries. In remote areas, old people observed a ritual of asking the earth’s forgiveness prior to death into the 20th century. A number of scholars have maintained that peasants transferred attributes of earth worship to their particular veneration of Mary as “Mother of God.”

Fedotov: “At every step in studying Russian popular religion, one meets the constant longing for a great divine female power, be it embodied in the image of Mary or someone else. Is it too daring to hypothesize, on the basis of this religious propensity, the scattered elements of the cult of a Great Goddess who once...reigned upon the immense Russian plains?”

#Russian fairy tales #study blog #my notes #Slavic deities #slavic mythology #Russian paganism #russian folk belief

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pirate-au · 3 years

Text

A Pirate's Life for a Prince (Part 5)

Summary: Roman was a dashing Captain, content with his exciting life out at sea, diving head first into adventure both on and off land. He wouldn't give up his life for anything, and yet he found himself...lacking something. He was never sure what.

When he meets Virgil, a seemingly common traveler in an old tavern, that lacking feeling in his chest goes away for the first time in a long while. So surely there's no harm in offering the stranger and his friend a ride, right?

Notes: TW for Remus being Remus, threats of violence

thank you again to @cheshirevalentine for editing! Check out their spinoff @actorau it's going to be so cool

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 6

The throne room was quiet, the guards stationed around the golden walls silent and motionless, the air just as heavy as it had been since news of the missing Prince had made it to the King.

Janus’s eyes were on the blue skies outside glass stained windows, the guards around him staring straight ahead, backs straight, unmoving for hours.

He leaned against the back of the throne with a sigh. The golden throne was grand and elegant, but also old and uncomfortable. It was honestly more for show than for furniture, and his back always protested the hours upon hours he spent in the throne room. He was always staring at the door, waiting for the same boring pointless people to come in with their same boring pointless demands.

It had been a bit more frantic since Virgil had disappeared along with his advisor, but with over a week of no new leads, no way to track down the missing Prince, things had settled back into routine, just coupled with a rising sense of uncertainty and dread.

Janus could barely even remember the last time he’d had a proper conversation with Virgil. They saw each other in meetings, Virgil quiet and nervous, out of place in a room full of adult royals, but that was about it.

He’d stopped by to congratulate the young Prince on achieving adulthood on his 18th birthday, as well as to praise Patton for his success, but that had been almost a year ago now, and they’d barely said a word to each other since.

Janus had never bothered to get to know the boy- too many bad memories, too much responsibility on top of the crown that had been thrust upon him after the death of the Queen.

He’d been given the throne to the kingdom he was never meant to rule, expected to ignore his own grief and confusion in favor of piecing things back together. He couldn’t raise a child on top of that.

Virgil had his mother’s mismatched eyes. Janus still couldn’t bring himself to look at the Prince without a simple glance being accompanied by waves of unwanted memories.

Patton had raised him well in place of any real family, and Janus had paid him enough to support the young advisor for decades.

And now both Virgil and Patton were gone, vanished without a trace in the middle of the night, and Janus didn’t know what to do.

Virgil was the only heir, set to be King in less than a year’s time now. The boy was a wreck. Anxious, timid, unprepared, and unsociable. So Janus had managed to push back the crowning until he was twenty, rather than eighteen like originally planned.

Patton had done his best, but he and Janus both knew that boy wasn’t fit to be King. Not yet, at least. Probably not for a long while.

But there was nothing Janus could do about that. He was never meant to be King, he was simply a placeholder until the late Queen’s son came of age.

He'd been able to keep Virgil from being crowned as an unprepared teenager like Janus had been, but he couldn't keep the crown off his head forever.

But now the late Queen’s son was gone, and Janus was still on the throne, his back still protesting the long, uneventful hours.

He’d been King for nearly a decade. He’d built his kingdom, built a reputation, placed his spies, made sure he had eyes and ears on every corner. The people knew him, respected him (more out of fear than anything, he suspected). The King was always the first to hear anything.

And yet there hadn’t been a word about the missing Prince. Nobody was sure when he left, if he was still in the city, if he’d left on a ship or was just hiding right under their noses. Nobody knew if he’d left willingly or if someone had stolen him.

It had been over a week, and still nothing.

Janus was pulled from his thoughts when the double doors at the end of the hall swung open without any warning or announcement, loud heels clicking against the floor, the guards startling to attention.

“Hell of a place you got here,” the intruder called, weaving around the two guards stationed at the door, expertly avoiding their grasps. “Did you decorate in puke yellow on purpose?”

Janus leaned forward, watching with his one good eye as the man pushed his way into the throne room, grinning as he surveyed the area, avoiding the apparently incompetent guards.

Janus raised a hand, stopping the rest of his men from rushing forward, weapons raised. The day had been never ending and dull, he might as well see how this played out.

Janus kept his eye on the intruder, eyebrow raised. “And who might you be?”

“That’s not important right now,” the man said, finally spinning around to face the throne. “What is important is… holy shit. What happened to your face? It looks like it was on fire and someone tried to put it out with a fork! Like, in a good way. It works.”

He sounded almost awestruck, staring shamelessly at the marred side of Janus’s face, and for the first time in years the King felt uneasy up on his throne, tensing under the gaze.

Nobody looked at his scar. It was common courtesy to pretend it wasn’t there, an unspoken agreement among the people.

“Tell me who you are and what you want before I have you arrested.”

The man gave a dramatic, woeful sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “You have a kid, yeah? Short, big mop of black hair, crown prince and heir to the throne of Naither?”

That piqued Janus’s interest much more than the bizarre show the nameless man seemed intent on putting on. “My nephew is the heir, and the city is aware there is a reward for his return. If you have information you should have scheduled an appointment.”

“Appointments aren’t really my thing,” he said, looking up with a bright, crooked grin, one hand moving up to brush over his mustache. “The point is, I know where your kid is.”

“Wonderful,” Janus said. “Where?”

The man merely shrugged. “That depends. How much are you paying?”

He kept his voice disinterested and bored, picking at chipped, painted nails. Well, two could play that game.

Janus leaned back in the throne and examined his gloves, black and gold rings glittering in what little sunlight managed to filter in. He saw the man’s gaze fall on the jewels, his eyes brightening hungrily. “I’m sure we could get you a handsome reward for helping to bring the Prince home. If your information is authentic.”

“Well I’m not offering information,” he said, tilting his head to look at Janus. “I’m offering to collect him myself. There are very few people you could trust with the job, you know. You can’t just pick up any rando’ off the streets.”

“I have plenty of people who are more than capable of bringing the heir back home. You’re expecting me to entrust his return to a stranger?”

The man shrugged again. “I won’t share the information with just anyone.”

“You’ll share the information if there’s a knife to your throat.”

The man actually grinned at that, brown eyes brightening dangerously. There was a scar across the left side of his face, that eye a bit glossy, parallel to Janus’s own injury. “Any fool willing to attack the ship he’s on will die. I can guarantee that. Except myself, of course!”

“Is that so?” Janus drawled. “Care to explain why?”

Remus hummed, rocking forward onto the balls of his feet, smug grin only growing. “You’ve not heard of the Calypso? She’s mighty notorious, especially about these parts. And I’d simply not let anyone near her. There’s precious cargo on that ship, you know.”

Janus had heard of the ship, but only vaguely. He tended to ignore rumors of pirates, busying himself with more important things than following those stories. Especially when such stories didn’t often involve the land he was ruling.

Well, he couldn’t exactly ignore the pirates when they were kidnapping the kingdom’s only heir, could he?

“How do I know you’re right about Virgil being aboard?”

“Why, I have written proof from the Captain, of course!” The man bounced a bit on the balls of his feet, leaning forward. “He’s been on board for… nearly two weeks now? They’ll stop in Gladena in about a day's time, and from there be off to Deigh. You can check any record you please, the first mate is absolutely meticulous about it all.”

Janus drummed his fingers along the throne, studying the intruder carefully. He should have this man arrested for daring to barge into the throne room, whether he was telling the truth or not.

He could send someone he trusted after Virgil, but… the Prince and his advisor would be on the lookout for someone they recognized. And despite himself, Janus was achingly curious. "And how long would it take you to get my heir back to me?"

“Well, considering it took the Captain two weeks to get to Gladena,” the man mused, dropping his arms to fold his hands behind his back, swaying slightly. “I could cut them off at Deigh and be back in less than two months.”

It wasn’t… ideal. The kingdom needed it’s Prince back as soon as possible, especially when he was so close to taking the throne. Janus couldn’t keep the fear and uncertainty at bay forever.

But Deigh was a decent way away. Assuming this man would actually do what he said he would, two months was the best they could hope for. It wasn’t a bad offer.

“Very well,” Janus relented with a heavy sigh. “Every day over two months you’re gone, I reduce your pay. I expect Virgil to be returned unharmed.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re no fun.”

“And I’ll need your name,” Janus said. “I’d like to know who I’m trusting my nephew’s safe return with.”

The man brightened, toothy grin spreading across his face as he put a hand to his chest and bent forward in a mock bow.

“Remus of Lucoria. At your service, your majesty.”

Janus sighed, and some of the guards at the foot of the throne shifted anxiously, no doubt waiting for the order to attack.

As it turned out, there was one pirate Janus couldn’t ignore the rumors about. No one could, with how they seemed to spread with viscosity like no other.

“Ah,” Janus said. He wondered briefly how Remus had managed to dock without word getting to the King, making a mental note to fire his head naval officer. “Wonderful.”

“There we go.” Remus straightened, his grin never faltering. “Now you know who you’re dealing with.”

“And now I trust you to deliver Virgil safely even less.”

“Oh come off it,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I’m incompetent.”

“You do have a reputation,” Janus pointed out. “And I’d like my nephew back. Not his corpse.”

“I’m ruthless, not stupid. He’ll be alive.”

“He needs to be unharmed.”

“Unharmed is… such a big request these days,” Remus said, turning back to examining his nails. “Should I kiss his booboo if he gets a splinter?”

Janus set his jaw, staring down at Remus from his vantage point up on the throne. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had talked back to him like this, especially in his own throne room. “You should deliver the Crown Prince without injuring him. He’s royalty.”

“Yes, and as am I,” Remus said. “He’s not special.”

“You’re not royalty anymore.”

Remus rolled his eyes once again, turning back to Janus with a smile. “It’s a mindset.”

“Of course it is,” Janus drawled, leaning forward in his throne. “Royalty is power. If I wanted you dead today, your head would be at my feet in seconds.”

Remus laughed then, the sound short and humorless. “I had no problem getting in here, did I? If I wanted you dead today, you would be.”

“Not if you wanted to escape with your life,” Janus said. “But you’re welcome to try.”

“I did say if, sweetheart. I’m not here for that today.”

“Good,” Janus said, keeping his voice cold and sharp. “I still need the Prince back in one piece.”

“Yeah yeah,” Remus agreed, waving him off. “I heard you.”

“Completely unharmed, Remus.”

“Yes,” Remus growled. “I heard you. I’ll kiss all his booboos.”

“Good,” the King said again. “And I trust you’re aware of the reward for Virgil’s return?”

“Oh, I am,” Remus said. “And it’s not enough. I want 3,000. To start.”

Janus scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “To start, huh?”

“I’ve got to be compensated for my time, don’t I?”

“Sure,” Janus agreed. “But I’ll remind you I do have an army at my disposal. I don’t need you for one job. You’ve given me all the information I need to send my own men.”

“The Calypso’s Captain won’t let him go so easily,” Remus said. “And much less to anyone but me. So either I go get him, or he makes it to Deigh and is never heard from again. Your choice.” He said with another infuriating shrug.

There were countless eyes on Janus, the guards watching and waiting, ready to move at the King’s word. Remus was smiling, smug and knowing, and Janus took a steadying, resigned breath.

“Fine,” Janus relented. “I’ll give you 1,500 before you depart, and 1,500 when you return with Virgil.”

“Plus the pre-existing reward.”

The King sighed. He’d pay just about anything to get Remus out of his castle. “Fine. 3,000 on top of the reward.”

Remus smiled again, giving one more fake, flashy bow before sending the King a wink Janus would have anyone else killed for.

He started towards the double doors before pausing and turning back to the King. “How ‘bout a kiss, too?”

“Get out of my throne room.”

Remus cackled, striding past the bewildered guards and pushing past the double doors, the clicking of his heels echoing against the walls. He disappeared and the doors closed behind him, leaving Janus perched on his throne in silence like nothing had even happened.

Taglist:

@i-really-like-dragons @stitches-system @poettheythem @remy-the-lemon-berry @shrubs-and-bushes @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @wordsmithandworm @the-dead-and-the-decaying @hope340 @winterwynd @thomas-sanders-tothe-standers @angstysunshine @sunshineandteddybears @pixelated-pineapple @fire-and-ash67 @blues-clues-oh-wait @shinekittenace @marrymebishop @all-panic-nodisco @ravenclawunicorn1 @someoneiwasnt @listenherebuddypal @aroace-energy

#pirate au #sanders sides #janus sanders #ts janus #remus sanders #ts remus #demus #dukeceit #writing #fanfiction #pirates

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magicpumpkin3 · 3 years

Note

Hello! I see that requests are open. So can I request a scenario with Ace bringing his s/o with him to his home on summer break. But he totally forgot to tell his family about her(fem reader or gender neutral if you want). So imagine the shock in their faces. The rest is up to you. Love your writing btw 💖

Note: I apologize it took so long. I'm bad at describing Ace's character and I know so little about his family. So I gave all of his family members appearance from my imagination. Hope It's okay!

Note№2: Sorry if it's bad, I tried my best. And thank yous for the compliment!

Ace x fem!reader

"Are you sure, you didn't forget anything?" Looking at Ace suspiciously, you hand him one of your bags. "I did not forget anything! How many times do I need to tell you this?" You look at him with one eyebrow raised. "Why are you looking at me like that?!" You sigh, turning away from him to shake your head.

Currently you and your boyfriend were waiting for your turn to face the mirror teleporter. It's been a long time since you were out of school. Last time was probably on one of your dates. Sighing to yourself, you can't help but feel worry. There's something you both forgot to do you most likely forgot to tell Ace what he forgot to do.

"Hey, I know you're worried about meeting my family but it's going to be fine, they'll love you." Ace say's with a small nudge on your shoulder. He continues with a wide grin "You'll bond and become really close to them. They'll probably even try to invite you to most family dinners. There's nothing to be worried about! We'll be fine!" Chuckling to yourself, you look at him with a small smile on your face "Whenever you say that, there is something to worry about." Ace looks at you, like you have just offended his whole family tree "HEY!"

Laughing at one another like that, you don't notice how time seems to pass by. It was your turn already to teleport when you were ready to hit Ace with one of your bags he dared to say that you don't actually help with overbolts. You reach out your hand to Ace. Grinning like an idiot, he takes your hand in his. Into the unknown you go, as they say it.

Time skip brought to you by me not knowing enough about Ace's family-

And here you were standing in front of a door. It's an absolutely regular door of a regular house but to you it looked like gates of hell themselves. Nervously smiling you look at Ace. "Are you sure they're going to like me?" He gave out an annoyed whine. "Yes, they will like! Now for the Great Seven, can we please come inside already? Or are you still scared?" Last part of his speech followed by a smug grin. Pouting, you turn away from him and ring the doorbell.

A few seconds of silence were followed by a some shouting on the inside and a few loud bangs. Gulping, you look at Ace, who looked at you back. Right at that moment,the door swings open. "Who the fu-! Oh...eh...hello." Standing before you was Ace's brother? There's no other explanation to their similarity. The only difference is a hair style and lack of a heart under his eye. "Who's there?!" Females voice rang trough the hall. "It's Ace and his... Friend!" The taller version of your boyfriend replied. This was getting awkward really fast.

"Actually that's my girlfriend!" Ace announces proudly, pulling your l by your waist closer to him. The face of his brother was priceless. Eyes wide, mouth agape, he was looking at you and back at him. Then he let out a whizz. "Yeah and I'm the Queen of hearts! Okay that's a good joke but oh my-" he starts to laugh uncomfortably. "Quit it dumbass, I'm dead serious! She is my girlfriend. I told you about her!" Tightening his grip on you, Ace continues arguing with his brother, which causes older Trappola to hold on too a doorframe and laugh even harder.

"Oi! What are you all barking about here?" Before you appeared a woman, probably Ace's mother, Mrs Trappola. She looks like she could take out a wild bear in a fight. A bit plumped, with short curly brown hair, chocolate like eyes, wooden spoon in her hand, she stands in front of you with her hands crossed over her chest. "Can you believe it? Our baby boy Ace trys to tell me this girl is his girlfriend!" While oldest of Trappola brothers continues to laugh his brains out, woman turns her head your direction and gazes at you with a look that could surely incinerate you, if she wanted. "Is that truth young lady?" She asks with a raised eyebrow. You nod with your head aggressively, holding onto Ace's arm. This woman is so intimidating and you just met her!

Bright smile appears on her face. "Welcome to the Trappola family my dear!" And your enveloped in a warm hug. Blinking a few times you hug Mrs Trappola back. Ace's brother immediately stoped laughing. "Wait, you weren't joking?! Holy Seven- Dad!!!" A loud thud is heard from the inside of a house. Next thing you know, there's a man standing before you in a fighting pose, like there's some kind of a danger. Looking around confused, Mr Trappola straights up, fixing his clothes a bit, he pretends like nothing happened. "What's all this yelling about?" Mr. Trappola is a tall, linky man, with a short bright red hair, crimson eyes and a big mustache. He looks like he haven't slept in a while.

"Our son brought a girl home!" Finally letting go of you, Mrs Trappola turns to her husband with a bright smile and sparkles in her eyes. Immediately father of the family throws his hands up in air and yells a loud 'YOOHOO'. They high five each other. Ace's older brother starts laughing again. "Everyone stop!!!" Your boyfriend, as red as Riddle's hair, trys to stop this mockery by pushing his parents apart. "Why? Our son finally has a significant other that he thinks is worthy to be shown to us!" Before Ace could object that statement, he was sucked into a big family hug.

"Don't just stand there! You're in for a hug too!" Mrs Trappola says, while her husband stretches his arm out, welcoming you in. And you're in for another hug, sandwiched between Trappola brothers. After what gelt like eternity, you were finally free. "Oh! Now, why are you standing outside like some homeless cats? Let's go inside!" With that, you and Ace's brother follow Mrs Trappola inside, while her husband and and your boyfriend are getting your bags.

Time skip brought you by my lack of knowledge about Ace's character-

"…And that's Ace on his first day of school! Isn't he adorable?" Mrs Trappola is showing yet another picture of little Ace. Little boy was standing with a giant backpack on his back and banquet of flowers in his hands, tired but still bright smile shinning on his face. "He is! I can't believe he was so cute, whom am I kidding he still is!" You and your boyfriend's mother are getting along very well. Sitting on their couch, you look at Trappola's family album. "MUM!!! Stop!" Ace is hopeless trys to steel album from his mother. "Young man, as your mother, it is my duty to show whole you, past and present, to your significant other and embarrass the living hell out of you. So, no." Pushing Ace away, with her free hand, she continues. "And this is him with his new classmates!"

Trappola family are such a nice people. They took you in, like you were and old friend of theirs. Even though they were mocking each other, you could see with how much love they did it. Ace's older brother, telling you about Ace's 1 girlfriend and how he cried when she broke up with him. Mrs Trappola telling you some really embarrassing stories about both brothers. Mr Trappola sharing some inside family jokes. You had dinner with them. Ace's mother's cooking skills are beyond limits. Fried chicken tastes so good, especially with the 'family-secret' sauce and salad. And don't get me started on the pies she made, my lord-

At the end, you and Ace got to his old room to sleep. Particularly facepalming onto his bed, your boyfriend let's out a loud groan. "Tired?" You sit near him on his bed. Nodding , Ace turns on his back to look at you. "You know, I finally realized what you forgot to do." Quirking and eyebrow he sits up a bit. "And what is it, that great me forgot to do?" A small smug smile appears on his face.

"You forgot to tell your family, you have a girlfriend."

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tainted-wine · 3 years

Text

Evil Demonic Music

Priest!Reader X Demon!Present Mic

Hizashi has a large and filling feast on every Halloween night. He’s been doing it since before you were born. Yet here you are crashing his party while smelling like fresh meat in a den of wolves. It’s entirely your fault for throwing off his groove.

Disclaimer: Reader is more reminiscent of an action priest in a gothic action movie or anime. There’s little to no accuracy here. Lightning will most likely strike me the next time I venture outside.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Christian Themes, Possession/Mind Control, Orgy, Public Sex, Sorta Corruption, Downer Ending

🎃👻🎃HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!🎃👻🎃

------------x------------

Yuuei Club Presents “Dance With The Devil” Halloween Event LIVE Music by Present Mic Costumes Encouraged // Doors Open at 8 p.m.

It looked innocent enough; a graphical poster on the door of a building surrounded by smaller businesses in the outlet. It masked itself well in the daytime with its plain exterior, devoid of any attractive decorations save for the club’s name that glowed in hypnotizing neon when night falls. All of its temptations were contained inside, dormant until it was filled with careless souls seeking unholy pleasures.

You didn’t hate them for it. The temptation to sin is strong. It’s how evil thrives, and the average person lacks the strength to resist. It’s your duty to protect all people, even the faithless, from evil’s many devices.

Like this nightclub.

Party locations like these were an uncommon feeding ground, although now that you think about it, the muddled and vulnerable minds residing within should make for easy meals. The loud and nonsensical “music” and absolute lack of restraint that the people displayed was baffling, but your task is to guard souls, not convert and guide them back to Heaven’s path. One demon in particular, however, favored ‘party animals’ more than any other creature from the vile depths.

“Easy there! You glare at this place any harder and it might combust!”

To the average human, the monster that appears beside you is nothing more than a tall blonde man with an inviting smile, but he can’t hide himself from the blessed and perceptive. Beneath the guise of spice and incense, he reeks of smoke and brimstone.

Hizashi, as he called himself, will never fool you.

“Stay back,” spit nearly flies from how harshly you say the words. You know that he can’t harm you, not while you wear your cross around your neck and calmly hold thoughts of your Lord in your mind. Still, you warn the dangerous fiend to keep his distance.

He obeys and innocently raises his hands. “Hey hey, you know I’m not out to hurt you, and you’re not gonna pull anything with that crafty little weapon there, right?”

No, you weren’t going to take a stab at him with the blade hidden in your holy necklace. You tried it before, an attempt to drive it into his back when he wasn’t looking. His hand caught your wrist at a speed you couldn’t comprehend – you were certain that you didn’t blink, yet you didn’t even see him move at all. His friendly smile didn’t waver, not a hint of anger visible on his face.

“Careful, baby priest! Don’t mean to sound cocky, but I’m way out of your league.” The warning wasn’t in his words, but in the heat of Hell itself that briefly washed over you, a sensation so powerful and real that you feared you were being dragged down that very instant. But the unseen flames died off the second he released your hand, eyes flashing a bloody red before returning to their usual emerald hues.

That was the first and only time you tried to banish him.

“I don’t trust you, but I’m not stupid,” was your answer, making sure not to let your hatred and disgust cloud your mind. He might take hold of that.

It was a satisfactory response, going by his bright beam of a smile. So friendly and inviting.

Months had passed when you finally accepted that he was a demon who genuinely enjoyed living alongside humans. He never spoke ill of your fellow men and commended them for their many ways of enjoying their short lives. Most demons you’ve dealt with favor negative emotions. Fear, sorrow, anger… those cold and bitter feelings attracted hellbeasts like flies to honey.

But this one? He fed on mortals that were as cheerful and carefree as him. All of this still wasn’t enough to convince you that he is truly gentle, however.

Hizashi stayed where he was, staring at his own promotional poster. The urge to leave was almost overwhelming, but you couldn’t let him know how much he unnerved you with just his presence alone. Instead, you shuffle awkwardly and try not to utter prayers of protection. Whether or not that will anger him is something you don’t want to find out.

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Are you pumped for the best night of the year? Man, Halloween never gets old for me, especially in this day and age. Everyone dancing while dressed like a bunch of monsters...it’s almost like I’m at home! Humans sure know how to party like tomorrow is The Cleansing.”

“Yes, and it’s shameful,” you humor him. “I have no interest in debauchery.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s called having a good time, babe. Put the tome down and loosen up every once in a while.”

Put down the tome?

Loosen up?

Babe?

How dare he make you even entertain the thought of abandoning your teachings. You just know he’s trying to rile you up, to make you lose control. You won’t let him have his way. “I have my good times in moderation, on days when I praise God with my brothers and sisters with a glass of wine. There is discipline in everything, even celebration. Heathens simply get drunk and lose themselves in the madness.”

The demon chuckled as he ran his fingers through long golden locks. Just the beautiful sheen of his hair could probably attract the greedy. “Yep. Times sure do change, don’t they?”

“They don’t just change, they’re desecrated. What was once a day to ward off evil spirits now does the exact opposite. They’re too busy with their consumerism, candy, haunted houses…”

“Oh yeah, those haunted attractions are wild. So many of my buddies gorge themselves there. Free fear for the taking, ya dig?”

Despicable.

“And you don’t?” You test him. He was a conversationalist; a few probing questions won’t bother him, surely.

He withdraws his phone, scrolling through the screen for something. “Come on, you know me by now, don’t you? That sour stuff isn’t for me.”

“Forgive me for still struggling to trust you.” Sarcasm felt too risky, actually. You won’t use it again.

“Heh, no offense taken! You priests know just how cruel we can be sometimes. Mortals learned from the best, after all.”

Your lips twitch. His curve into a more wicked grin.

Every single passerby can’t seem to resist giving you odd looks. You can feel the eyes behind you as people make their way around the shops. Your garb wasn’t that strange; they’re acting like they’ve never seen a person in a robe and wearing several divine artifacts before. They would too if they knew what Hizashi was, who has yet to garner a single look of suspicion.

Ridiculous, his casual getup is actually fooling them. Perhaps the silly villainous mustache wasn’t big enough to give him away.

“Ah, here it is!” You nearly jumped from his voice and how quickly he leaned in, a video playing on his phone. “Just tap on the screen to play it an-”

“I know how to use a phone,” You hiss, taking the device from his hand and shooting him a glance every few seconds in case he tried something.

The video was chaos, an unsteady view of flashing lights and thumping heavy beats. Whoever held it was smack dab in the middle of an energetic crowd that sang and danced like barbaric animals. It was an orgy of overindulgence. Too much drinking with their comically shaped cups and bottles, too much lust in their crude excuse of a dance, and synthetic drums that dragged on for so damn long, even the beat sounded drunk. It’s not the first time you heard the horrid noise; it unfortunately appears to be popular among the masses.

God help these poor souls.

“Last year’s party.” Hizashi’s words cut through your thoughts. “Pretty hype, huh? Nothing gets my listeners goin’ like a hard trap beat!”

Oh? So he’s fully admitting it now? “So you’re calling it what it is, are you? Trapping them with your satanic melodies?”

The confusion on his face was very convincing, but you knew better. “What? No, that’s what the music is called.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Please, demon. What do you think sounds more believable: A genre of music with such a simplistic and misleading name, or evil tunes that your kind uses to ensnare unassuming mortals that don’t know any better?”

“....um…”

“I thought so.” To think that he’d slip up so easily. He wasn’t as clever as he thought. “Tell me what happened to the people in this video. Are they alive? Or did you drain them until they were nothing more than lifeless husks?”

There was a snicker behind you. Both you and Hizashi turned around to see a young man holding his phone up with an amused smile, giving a little wave after being noticed. “Sorry,” he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I really like your costume, miss. Your acting is awesome, too.” With that, he put away his phone and whatever images he now has of you and continued on his merry way.

Impertinent juveniles.

“Anyway, they’re all fine,” Hizashi said, eyes returning to the door while tapping his feet to a beat you can’t hear. “I know how to feed without causing any serious harm. Even if I do go a little overboard, they’ll just brush it off as having too much to drink.”

“It doesn’t matter how good you are at controlling yourself. You’re an evil entity invading human minds.” It takes every bit of strength to not flinch when he looks at you. Again, there’s no anger – there’s never anger with him – and it makes you all the more uneasy. Maybe a being as ancient and influential as him doesn’t find a novice exorcisor like you worth getting angry or even annoyed over. “Your stench will remain on those people forever, attracting more of your kind to them unless someone like me finds and cleanses them.”

He shrugs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Come on, your boy is doing his best here. What do you want me to do? Starve?” He considers what he just said for a moment before laughing. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Look, I ain’t leaving the stage, little priest. I’m addicted. The noise, the energy, the way everyone just loses themselves in all of it.”

The way his tongue peeks out to swipe over his upper lip has every hair on your skin sticking up.

“Man, I wish they knew just how sweet their own essence is when they’re caught up in the lights and music. Sweeter than any candy the kids will be bringing home tonight.”

He compares consuming pieces of a soul to children’s treats. “You’re really not helping your case,” you remark.

Another shrug. “C’mon, you say that like I actually have a chance at winning with you! I won’t hurt anyone in there. You have my word.”

You scoffed. “A demon’s word is-”

“Worthless, I know. See what I mean?” He withdrew a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Welp, I think we’ve stood here and stared at the door long enough. I gotta prep for the big night. Thanks for the company!” A few more seconds pass when he finds the right key and opens the entrance to the club.

You didn’t follow him inside. That would be careless.

Now it’s only you observing the building that will soon hold a giant living feast for the hungry monster. After another passing compliment about your “cool and authentic costume”, you figured you’ve stood around long enough. It was time to head home.

And find a way to keep everyone safe.

He was right; you have no way of getting rid of him yourself. That doesn’t mean you’ll stand by while knowing what danger these people will be walking into when night arrives. You’re not afraid to put your life on the line if it means protecting His children from the many evils on earth. When the first step of your plan takes root in your head, you change routes and make your way to the nearest costume shop.

Hizashi won’t be having his fill tonight.

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

8:30 p.m.

You weren’t expecting to encounter two demons tonight.

Well, perhaps that term isn’t appropriate. There is no sort of aura attached to the dark-haired man that you can trace back to the pits of Hell, but he is undoubtedly a creature of evil. One that was birthed from the shadows, living for eternity by lurking in darkness and drinking the blood of any unfortunate mortal that catches his eye.

“I knew it. I knew someone so close to Hizashi couldn’t be human.”

The vampire at the lively club’s entrance didn’t seem fazed by your accusation. He wasn’t even hiding himself. The sly bloodsucker knows that his crimson irises and enlarged fangs will be mistaken for prosthetics. Very convincing prosthetics.

“Nice to see you too,” he deadpans.

You’re getting a little tired of these beasts brushing you off. “So what’s your feeding plan here? Waiting to find an innocent maiden who wishes to see the sinful wonders inside, then take her to the back and drain her dry?”

“Like you?” The smirk doesn’t reveal any teeth, but his predatory eyes are enough to make you step back and grip the cross that still hangs around your neck. Your reaction makes him chuckle darkly before he returns to his regular disinterested self. “I already ate.” That monster. “I’m here because Hizashi thought I’d make for good security.”

“So you intend to drink from anyone that steps out of line?”

“No.”

“Lies. Look here, vampire…”

“My name is Shouta.”

“...You and your friend won’t be preying on these naive humans for much longer. He told me about his trap music, but I won’t let his songs bewitch anyone tonight.”

He stared at you, one eyebrow quirked high up. “Alright...can you give me your hand already? There’s a line growing behind you.”

You look over your shoulder, and there is indeed a line of disgruntled people dressed as various monsters and characters. You have to admit that their costumes look to be of higher quality than the angel outfit you hastily bought in the store’s clearance section. The fuzzy headband for your halo was itchy and your flimsy wings were on the verge of falling off with every sudden movement.

With a glare that messaged him not to try anything, you cautiously extended your arm. He took your hand in his – deathly cold – and wrapped a thin paper tag around your wrist. “Have fun.”

You always hate it when you can’t read their smiles.

The suffocating darkness around him was lifted when you made your way to the same doors you were looking at with so much contempt this morning. Glancing back, you saw others happily complimenting his ‘spooky’ appearance, to which he responded with either a quick thanks or a grunt. None of them seemed to notice his chilling aura or ice-cold touch.

Why must they be so blind to the evils that walk beside them everyday?

When you stepped in, the music nearly blasted you back outside. So loud, but not like the angelic choirs during gospel. You didn’t feel lifted, you just felt bombarded by pure noise. A repetitive tempo made the entire building pulse like a heartbeat. This didn’t sound like the music Hizashi supposedly used to put the crowd under a spell. It just repeated the same forsaken beat over and over again. Perhaps the repetition is meant to ease the victim’s mind and lure them in a false sense of security, then those long rolling beats will come in next, ensnaring them when their guard is down. Clever, but not clever enough.

You passed the lounge and bar area, paying no mind to the lecherous behavior around you. Boisterous laughs, alcohol being carelessly chugged…

“Hey there, angel.” A man dressed as a superhero nearly tripped over his own cape in his attempt to approach you. “You as innocent as you look? I can introduce you to the boUUUURP.” The sudden belch burned your poor eyes with the stinging smell of rum.

Lord have mercy on both you and these savages.

“No thank you,” you said through gritted teeth and brushed past him. The lights and colors are disorienting. Strobe lights, spotlights whizzing across the walls and floor, and vibrant ever-changing shapes on every surface. The intoxicated folk probably welcomed the flashing chaos. When you drink at the church, your sips stay modest and controlled, ensuring to never reach the stage of drunkenness. If you were feeling ‘buzzed’, as they would say, this musical and optical discourse would likely feel pleasant, like entering a world devoid of rules and consequences.

Also known as a world of sin.

A huge mass of bouncing bodies covered the dancefloor, and there on an elevated platform, acting as an advanced musical throne, was the evil orchestrator of the chaos.

And those long curved obsidian horns were most definitely real.

Even as he tampered with the many buttons and dials before him, Hizashi moved as wildly as his prey, too caught up in his own infernal electronic hymns to even notice your presence. Surely your chaste energy sticks out among these wrongdoers like a dove in a pit of serpents.

You need to activate your blessing before he eats. Good thing the vampire didn’t bother to inspect your costume for any natural evil repellents that you happened to be carrying.

Your self-made pockets were filled with sage and rosemary, common herbs used to drive away demons and spirits. You sprinkle them onto the floor as you continue to make your way to the center, where your power will work most efficiently. Hopefully their scent will not be overpowered by the sweaty bodies and breaths laced with alcohol of all kinds.

Pushing through the dancing crowd was an arduous task. The music had since switched to something faster and more aggressive. The hectic sounds in this one was making you miss the boring but calmer tunes from before. You never considered what the sound of a robot vomiting would sound like, but it would probably sound similar to the cacophony of ‘whirs’ and ‘wubs’ that were assaulting your ears.

The mass was pushing and tossing you every which way. The variety of masks and makeup beneath the constant moving lights was rather frightening. Of course, you’ve dealt with plenty of real monsters, but it disturbed you to see your fellow man acting in such a frenzied matter in such a perplexing setting. You can see why Hizashi adored this environment. You couldn’t tell the difference between man and beast.

Straightening your halo, you decide that this spot will fare well enough.

Now it was time to apply holy water around your feet. Just a few drops of the blessed fluid will be enough to protect everyone here.

You close your eyes, ignore the many bodies bumping against you, and pray.

O Lord, protect me from temptation.

The water trickles out before you.

O Lord, forgive those who have been led astray.

“WOOOO SHIT! THIS IS MY JAM!”

The nearby exclamation makes your eyebrow twitch.

For we know that your power is greater than any evil.

The song is deafening, but you keep going.

Grant, O Lord, the protection fro-

Someone violently collides into you, knocking the bottle right out of your hands and rolling away to disappear behind the wall of stomping shoes.

Shit! Forgive my language, Father!

You elbow the fools blocking your way, ignoring the occasional “hey” or “watch it” during your desperate search for the most important tool against evil influences.

You didn’t even finish your prayer. You need to at least do that first, before it’s too late. Clapping your hands together, you shut your eyes again and moved your lips rapidly.

OLordprotectmefromtemptationOLordforgivetosewhohavebeenledastrayforweknowthatyourpowerisgreaterthanany-

“HERE COMES THE DROP!”

The rhythm and bass changed drastically, and with it came a powerful wave of raw exhilaration.

It’s like a force was injecting every positive chemical directly into your bloodstream. The abundance of newfound energy needed to be released, just like the tension that was released from that beat drop.

Your hips are swaying in a way you’ve never moved them before, and you can’t make them stop.

Stop! Stop, please! This is his doing!

“How are my listeners doin’ tonight?!”

The demon’s voice booms through the speakers, seeping into your ears and filling you with so much excitement that you can’t help but cheer with everyone else. Your senses feel simultaneously enhanced and dulled. The humans around you were out of focus, but the diabolical DJ up ahead was so clear, it’s like you were right in front of him. The hunger in his currently red eyes struck fear in you even as you danced.

“Woo, I’m lovin’ this energy! Thanks for coming by this Halloween, ya little monsters! Now...bring this house down!”

Your heart accelerates from the rush and you begin to jump in sync with the possessed crowd. Even the people standing by or sitting at the bars couldn’t resist, joining the growing horde on the dancefloor to jump in unison.

It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Not a care in the world. No customs, no praise. It didn’t give you that warm feeling of ascension. Instead you just felt...liberated.

No!

Struggling in the demon’s grip, you cleared your thoughts just enough to try to calm yourself and regain control.

Utter a prayer. Hurry. Focus. You need His protection.

‘Baby priest? Is that you?’

That is not the mighty entity you wanted to hear. The voice echoes in your head, impossible to escape. When your eyes open, you see that above the vast sea of faces, Hizashi is staring right at you.

‘I thought the dancefloor smelled a little weird! I was so busy feelin’ the beat that I almost missed you!’ You watched him laugh as he continued to violate your mind. Damn him. Wasn’t possessing you cruel enough? ‘Please, no prayers when I’m about to dig in. That’s gonna leave a bad taste in my mouth. Just keep groovin’ like everyone else!”

Your limbs obeyed without your consent and followed the rhythm. This didn’t even sound like the music you heard in the video. Were you just foolish in thinking that he only used one specific sound to trap his victims?

With another change in the bassline, a heavier weight invaded, reaching right into the depths of your heart and tugging at your very soul. You know that fear will only make you more defenseless, but there was no fighting the terror that overtook you.

Not when a demon was feeding from you.

Your brain clashed with itself. You had to keep fighting, even as he stole a fragment of what your gracious Heavenly Father had gifted you and every human, but the cheerful voices implanted in your mind begged you to stop worrying and just give in already.

There was no stopping your movements or the unending rush that surged as strongly as the music. Only now, as he completely ignored your holy safety measures and tainted your soul as easily as the oblivious heathens surrounding you, did you fully understand just how great the differences in power between him and you were.

‘Whoa...holy shit.’

The breathless moan in your head made you shudder.

‘I haven’t tasted a human as pure as you in ages.’

“Please! You’ve already fed from me!” You scream out loud as the mob revels in the thrilling sensation of having a part of them sucked away. Your voice is drowned out by the music and shouts, yet you know that the horrid fiend can hear you loud and clear. “Just get out of my head!”

The dancing stops.

The music stops.

Everything stops.

It’s relieving to finally let your body rest from the forced celebration. The lights still flash and move in the dead silence. Every single person in all of their costumed glory turns and pins you with a sharp glare. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed over, consciousness elsewhere. Hizashi was in full control of all of them.

The demon himself looked down at you, no longer wearing his usual friendly and carefree smile. He was now showing the more twisted happiness you were used to seeing on his kind.

Crazed and eager to devour.

He spoke into the microphone on his headset, voice low and eerily calm. “Angel, you can’t just give me a sample of a five-star meal and expect me to not want more.”

The dread threatens to make you faint.

“Hey, none of that!” He laughs and switches back to his cheery tone. “I told you the negative emotions aren’t for me. I mean, a lady as sweet as you is gonna taste delicious either way. Why don’t you come on up here?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to flee from this entire situation that you foolishly believed you were ready for. You thought you could sneak into this age-old creature’s gathering and force him to go hungry for the night.

Cockiness treads horribly close to pride, and pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

You clearly didn’t have a say in the matter, what with your feet moving forward on their own. Every individual in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path from you to Hizashi’s platform. Their eyes never left, heads slowly turning as they watched you slowly climb the steps with legs that trembled from your resistance.

As he stood tall clad in leather behind the large mixer table, you noticed along with his sturdy horns, he also sported a black pointed tail that lazily swayed behind him. And his stench...the foul smell that would often make you crinkle your nose was replaced with a pleasing fragrance, like a sweet and fruity beverage. It was undoubtedly the work of his spell; everything about him has suddenly become tempting.

At this point you were wishing for the music to return so that you couldn’t hear your thunderous heartbeat as you stopped right in front of him. His hellish eyes observed you from head to toe, holding his chin between his fingers before shaking his head and smirking.

“Ya really couldn’t find a better costume?” He snickered as he got closer and fiddled with your cheaply-made gown. You avoided looking directly into his eyes, afraid of falling into the blood-red depths and never finding your way back out. “Or do you priests work on a budget?” He pauses when he notices the contents in your pockets. “Oh?” A hand is shoved inside and pulls out a handful of herbs.

“Aww gross! Sneakin’ herbs into the joint?” He winces from the smell before tossing them aside, leaving them to scatter into the unmoving group below.

How? His reaction should have been much stronger…

“Not that this stuff really works when I’m vibin’ in my element, but I’m hurt! I thought we had some trust!” He pinches your cheek, knowing that you’re unable to pull away. “And I thought you knew that I was way out of your league. You’re gonna need the big guns if you plan on keeping me away from my food.” The breath blowing into your face is abnormally hot.

There’s a layer of something otherworldly hidden in his tone whenever he emphasizes his words, like a filter poorly attempting to cover up a monster’s true guttural voice.

But once again, he switches back to normal, which does nothing to calm you. “But I’m not gonna get mad at some rookie that doesn’t know better, especially one as tasty as you!” Twirling around, he pushes a few buttons on the table that you didn’t even know where to begin to figure out.

“Sorry about the interruption, listeners!” He says to the crowd, cruelly acting like they have any ability to respond. They continue to stare blankly. “I hope you don’t mind if I switch things up a bit. Your boy is gonna be a little preoccupied during the next few tracks.”

The deafening silence is lifted with the start of a new song, and the people suddenly spring back to life, completely unaware of the mindless state they were in. Their only goal was to keep partying.

Your body was moving again as well, this time bobbing gently to the double and triple beats and low frequencies that vibrate through the floor and up your spine.

This...this was the type of melody you feared, and yet it didn’t affect you any more than the other songs. All of them were traps.

The only way you can think of fighting back is by filling your head with songs of praise. Keep your Lord in your thoughts. He will protect you.

“Tsk...angel, that stuff doesn’t work when I, ya know, already ate a piece of you.” His face tightened from hearing just a few seconds of the holy song in your head. “I told you, ya gotta loosen up a bit. You’re already dancing better than I thought you would!”

He paid no attention to his other prey, instead admiring your simple but energetic movements.

Then he began to move as well, shoulders doing a slow shimmy and following each of your steps with his own, moving closer and closer until he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you in.

He’s warm. Not burning or emitting an aura of terrifying darkness. The music suddenly feels softer, easing your fears. Like an intimate embrace.

“There, it’s not so bad, is it?” He says lowly, lips almost touching your face. “Quit thinking about your big daddy for once.”

You want to protest against the disrespectful nickname for your God, but he predicts your reaction and tightens his hold on your spirit.

“You taste so damn incredible right now, don’t mess it up,” he groans and savors you. With every part of you that is consumed, it becomes harder to resist. It would be so easy to just hold onto him and keep swaying like this, rocking back and forth as his hips press against yours, grinding into you.

The unfamiliar sensation startles you, but Hizashi shuts down your panic with a growl. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten.” he murmurs into your shoulder, breathing deeply to take in your scent. “I’ve been so hooked on the party life that I forgot just how heavenly innocents like you taste. To think that I’d have an actual priest dancing with me, tasting that revelry from such a pure source...pardon my blasphemy, but goddamn.”

You’re swimming through the fiery haze clouding your mind, clawing against it in a desperate search for an opening. But with every beat, the haze thickens and you sink further in.

You couldn’t find the light. No salvation.

More sinful feelings assault you from the friction of his groin against yours, a growing bulge rubbing on your most sacred area. It sends a foreign tingle down there.

“Ooooh, don’t think I can’t feel that, baby” he rasps, holding you so closely in a dance fitting for two lovers. “I can sense everything now that you’ve let me in.”

That angers you enough to find your voice again, just barely. “I didn’t let you in...” You tense from another hard grind. “Foul...beast.”

“Are you sure? You’re giving in pretty easily. It’s nothin’ to feel bad about, I promise. Humans aren’t built to resist life’s basic needs, so I don’t know why the big man in the clouds gets so wound up about it all the time.”

How dare he.

“Damned snake!” You force your hands to beat against him and push him off. “You will not corrupt me with the Devil’s words!”

He’s actually shocked for a moment, even to your own surprise, but he laughs it off. “Geez, my bad! I guess you are pretty persistent. Must be…” He grabs the cross around your neck, ignoring your horrified gasp. “...this.”

With a sharp yank and a pinch at the back of your neck, your one remaining object of holy protection is removed.

And with its loss, his influence completely overpowers you. The clearness of your senses switches on and off.

The music is muffled. It’s too loud.

The roaming lights are blurry. Too bright.

Are you still moving? Or is your body too heavy?

“It stings a bit, but that little thing can’t do much when the wearer’s already under my control.” An unfocused image of the demon tossing your precious necklace over his shoulder, the necklace you’ve held close to you since the day you first stepped into the cathedral and accepted your role as a righteous defender of man.

Your essence is now being stolen so quickly that it makes you shiver. He shouldn’t be taking this much.

“Mmm, I can’t get enough of this,” Teeth that are too sharp brush against your neck, threatening to pierce your skin. “I’m an old guy, ya know. I’ve done a lot of experimenting over the centuries, to see what I’m into.”

There’s a rip, and your gown is being pulled down along with your wings. It only relieves you from the growing heat of your surroundings.

“Y’see, our daddy isn’t a helicopter parent. He brings us into the world and just...lets us decide what to do. So no, my words ain’t the Devil’s words. They’re just mine, honey. I live for myself.”

Tilting your head, he presses his lips against your throat, making your breath hitch. No, your body is sacred. Don’t let him do this to you.

You don’t even know when the music had changed, but you’ve noticed the club was filled with a synthetic ambiance, the colors switching to magenta and cyan.

The party demon is so captivated by you that he doesn’t even acknowledge the change in tune. “I used to stalk the depressed. Wasn’t worth it, they were too bland.” He peppers kisses down to your collarbone. “I tormented scared paranoid folk. Fun, but it loses its flavor fast.”

Your bra is removed to expose your breasts to him and the entire populace within the building. Your heart races, but the synths don’t stop seeping into your ears, the bliss wrestling with your fear.

“Shh, don’t freak out. I’ll make sure everyone forgets everything that happened tonight.” He attempts to reassure you while massaging your newly revealed mounds. “So time went on as I treated my palate to different tastes. Wasn’t long before I realized my favorite vibes were the good ones. Festivals, games, a few buddies hangin’ out,” he lowered himself and flicked your nipple with his tongue. “Or a couple fucking, I ate all of it up. And after a while I decided that I just liked people in general.”

The pleasure felt when your breast is engulfed by the heat of his mouth is shameful. Hizashi moaned at your taste, though you weren’t sure if it was the taste of your flesh or your lust that was exciting him.

“I liked it when humans were having good times, so I figured out how to join in on the fun and damn, how do you guys keep finding new ways to rock out? The prudes keep droning on about how my favorite type of people have lost their way, but I think they’re the ones who found paradise, and they’re not even dead yet!” After nursing on both of your breasts, he rises and grabs your face to turn it toward the crowd. “I mean, just look at how these guys – oh.”

‘Oh’ indeed.

The people were no longer dancing. They were grabbing at each other, at men and women they probably didn’t even know, tearing apart clothes in a vicious urge to fornicate right there on the dancefloor. Some of them were already completely nude. You avert your eyes to stare at your feet instead.

Hizashi cleared his throat. “Whoops. Look what ya made me do, angel. My lust got the best of me!” He held you close while watching the horrid act before him. You’re trying to move your heavy arms to cover your bare body. “No wonder I’m feeling so horny. Think I should make them stop?”

It takes effort to nod your head.

His lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout before going, “Nah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an orgy. I bet this is a first for you.”

Something tickles your hips, your eyes wandering over to see the arrow-like point of his tail curling around your white panties, tugging them down.

Part of you already knows that Hizashi is allowing you to struggle for his own amusement. With all of your protection gone, he can easily stop you from swatting at the flexible limb as it brings your final article of clothing down to your ankles.

Wearing nothing but the small strap around your wrist, you want so badly to curl up and hide yourself. You were completely bare on a stage with a demon quietly taking in your form. The contrasting feelings of anxiety and calm threaten to tear your psyche in half.

“Given how anal you guys are about chastity, I think it’s safe to say no one’s ever touched you before?” The way you tense tells him enough. “Alright alright, relax. I’m gonna make this easy for you.”

‘How? By letting me leave?’ You want to say, but your vocal chords aren’t cooperating.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Well, no. I told ya I know everything goin’ on in that head.” He grabs you by the shoulders and places you right in front of his mixer.

There were many suggestive sounds amongst the pile of writhing bodies before you. It was the most depraved sight that you’ve ever witnessed. These people may have been sinners for their immoral pursuits, but they were still victims of a wicked creature’s influence. You wish you could apologize to all of them for failing to protect them.

Slender fingers massaged your shoulders. “Ain’t it beautiful?” He whispers hotly into your ear. “I’m not that crazy about lust, but I can’t resist when it’s coming from someone like you.”

His aura has you shackled on the spot, unable to move or even tear your eyes away from all of the sex. His voice meshes with the increasingly sensual tunes, both him and the music putting you in a deep trance that leaves every nerve in your body extra sensitive.

You’re gently pushed to lean forward until your hands are supporting yourself on the table. The leather of his clothes pressed against your back is irritating, but easily overshadowed by the hands trailing down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“One of my favorite hobbies was hunting down faithful maidens like you. All demons love doing it, really. You can’t top raw innocence, it’s always a delicacy. It’s the closest most of us will ever get to fucking an actual angel. I managed to fuck an angel, and lemme tell ya, it’s a once in an eternity experience.”

He reaches your mound. There is still fear and an urge to pray, though it’s drowned out by the electronic harmony and all of the hot sex.

“Now she’s a fallen one that hangs out with me. Pretty little devil’s obsessed with sex now. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll give you a visit in your sleep at midnight.”

His fingers reach your untouched folds, making you gasp. You’ve never felt so much lubrication down there before. Was that normal?

“I was really good at the whole corruption thing, so good that I caught the attention of the big holy boys. They were toughies, gotta hand it to 'em. I decided to lay low after that little showdown. That was all a preeetty long time ago.”

The demon’s voice is background noise as you watch deplorable acts that you didn’t even know existed. One woman was taking a cock into her mouth while another man pounded into her from behind. A new male approached and grabbed her free hand, wrapping her fingers around him and encouraging her to stroke him.

Three men pleasuring themselves with the same woman. They were probably complete strangers.

The repulsive sight makes you wetter.

They sure were having fun.

Hizashi hums at your arousal, sinking a digit into your folds.

“Ah,” you choke on your own voice. His other hand plays with your breast again while you’re being penetrated for the first time. Some sort of flame was growing within you, burning and pleasing at the same time.

“I thought I’ve found my place. Going place to place and bringing in crowds who just want to forget their troubles for a day and groove.”

The finger pushes through your tightly clenched walls, or at least they try to.

“Fuck, relax a bit, babe,” he groans.

You do exactly that, giving him enough leeway to push in and out at a steady pace. You don’t think about the violation, only the strange friction that has no right to feel as good as it does.

“And then you come along,” An unexpected sharp thrust causes his finger to brush against a spot that fills your vision with even more blinding lights. “It’s not like I was after you or anything. You’re a solid negative ten on the threat scale, but ya just wouldn’t leave me alone!” He relentlessly hits the spot again, and again, until you’re crying out and your legs are shaking. “Then you waltz in here and try to ruin my favorite night of the year?

He’s able to hide his anger as he speaks, but fails to keep it from entering his possessed victims. The orgy becomes more violent, all of the people looking no more civil than savages in torn rags as they try to dominate and fuck each other senseless.

It affects you as well, going by how annoyed you’re getting by his rambling. Can’t he just focus on pleasing you?

His finger leaves you too soon, your cunt already missing the brand new sensations. “Sorry, babe,” he says when he releases you and begins to undo his pants. “Normally I’d spend more time warming up, but I gotta join in on the raunchiness now before I go nuts. Just...do me a favor.”

You whined, wiggling your hips and rubbing your ass against his freed cock. He only chuckles at your impatience.

“Slow your roll, I’ll get started as soon as you push that button riiiight there.”

You push one of the many glowing buttons, and stock phrases are shouted out of the speakers.

“No, the one next to it.”

You press it, and another song begins.

Hizashi hums in approval. “I usually do a smooth transition between songs, but…”

A hard impact knocks you forward with the overwhelming feeling of being completely filled all at once. The stretch and pressure has your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“....Yeah, I just wanted to do that. And-” He yanks the halo off your head and drops it at your feet. “-I always loved the symbolism in that.”

He wastes no time building up. You’re being pounded as hard and consistently as the energetic beat. It should hurt, but the euphoric state of your mind dulls any pain and discomfort.

With the demon inside both your head and your womanhood, there was no saving yourself. Your prayers wouldn’t even be heard through this thick depraved fog.

“Oh fuck yeah,” He growls loudly with his wild thrusts, hands gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise. “I’ve been missing out. So hooked on the party life that I don’t even remember how it feels to eat up a modest little soul like this.”

Was he still devouring you? You can’t even tell, not while you’re trapped in this melodic dreamworld as his cock rams you.

“Ya mind if we do this again sometime?” He angled himself to ensure he was hitting that sweet spot with each rhythmic pump. Despite his aggression, his hips moved with musical purpose. “Not like you’re much of a priest anymore. You’re fuckin’ a demon, sweetheart. I think the pearly gates have closed for you.”

That sounds sad and all, but God does he feel good. The entire moment was feeling like a hallucination. Your world was saturated with fuzzy images and muffled bass as your virgin pussy was ravaged. The tightened heat in your core was growing hotter by the second.

Hizashi just wouldn’t stop talking even as he became short of breath. “Ah, don’t worry, my doors are always open to misfits!” His rhythm falters a bit when you give him an especially tight squeeze. “Ya like that? I can always wipe your memory of tonight along with everyone else’s, and you can head back home. I just don’t think your next visit to the house of God is gonna end well.”

How does he expect you to care with the way he’s plowing into you?

His arms wrap around you in an embrace. “No pressure, angel. You can decide later. For now, just enjoy the show.”

And finally, he shut up and focused on fucking your divine lights out.

With his pelvis flush against your ass, Hizashi humps with newfound vigor, his thrusts rapid yet precise enough to keep stimulating your most sensitive areas.

The blinding stars in your eyes make it impossible to even make out what’s happening in front of you. A shame, because you want to know if you’re being dicked down as good and hard as the whores on the dancefloor.

The demon may not be talking anymore, but he was still being very vocal about his pleasure with feral moans and growls right into your ear.

An extra hard slam forces you to nearly topple onto the controls, hands scrambling to keep you upright and hitting several buttons in the process.

A series of sounds and distortion effects are added to the song.

It unexpectedly riles him up. “Shit, that wasn’t a bad mix, angel. I might have a junior DJ in the making,” he praises.

The tempo changes - different speed and new layers - and Hizashi follows suit by switching his quick bucks into deep thrusts.

The fire inside was close to doing...something. You weren’t sure what it was or what exactly will happen if this lasts any longer, but part of you knows that it’s about to feel very good.

With the head of his dick striking you nice and deep, you quickly learn that you were right.

The explosion of spasms was too pleasurable to even comprehend, each contraction tearing filthy screams from your throat. Hizashi bursts soon afterwards and fills you up with a cry even more lewd than yours.

Just like that, your mind is freed and the weight of his aura is lifted...and you feel gravely tired.

A coldness sweeps over you and saps every ounce of your strength. You find yourself dropping to your knees and falling over as a distant voice expresses genuine worry.

“Oh.......I overfed.” Though it doesn’t sound as panicked as it should.

You don’t want to close your eyes. You fear that something terrible might happen if you do, but your eyelids are quickly becoming too heavy to fight.

“Really sorry, little priest! I didn’t mean to! Look at the bright side - my friends are gonna love ya down there! Home isn’t half as bad as those books make it out to be!”

Each word sounds fainter than the last, but you still catch each one.

Home?

Your eyes shut.

And the remains of your soul become stained with ash and black before heading downwards into the demonic realm.

Welcome home.

#smut #present mic #yamada hizashi #present mic x reader #broke: EDM is soulless #woke: EDM steals souls #tw noncon #tw death #tw mind control

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365days365movies · 3 years

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April 3, 2021: Duck Soup (Review)

I think I’m a Marx Brothers fan now?

I really liked this movie. I really did, and it’s genuinely one of my favorite comedies so far this month...even if I don’t think it’s as good as the other two. A paradox, I’m aware. But, to treat this like the others, let’s see what happened to the Marx Brothers after this film.

Unlike Chaplin and Keaton, I won’t be going as in detail about these guys individually. They were successful throughout the 1940s, partnered with UA (unsurprisingly), and each eventually split off on their separate ways. Zeppo was first in 1933, right after Duck Soup, as he really wasn’t as featured as the rest of them. He and Gummo Marx went into business together, making a gigantic talent agency. Both were also engineers later in life, with Gummo making raincoats, and Zeppo making plane parts!

The remaining three persisted, then also eventually went their separate ways. Chico got WAY into gambling, racking up a fuckton of debt in the process, but he also starting a big band act. Harpo continued to perform on screen and stage for the rest of his life. And Groucho...well, Groucho never really stopped. Television appearances and film appearances persisted well into the ‘50s and ‘60s, until Groucho stepped away...for a bit, anyway.

And then, well...Chico dies on October 11, 1961, of severe arteriosclerosis, and at the age of 74. This broke all of the brothers (and their sister), especially Groucho. Three years later, shortly after an appearance on stage in September 1964, Harpo died of heart failure. Again, this broke Groucho, and the remaining three brothers. The only one of the brothers left to perform now was Groucho, so let’s look at him a little more, shall we?

Groucho, with his iconic eyebrows and greasepaint mustache, was BY FAR the most famous of the brothers. He was married three times, all of which ended in divorce. With the last one, he was 40 years his wife’s senior. WOW. OK. He had three children, two of whom had children of their own. And by the time of his last divorce, Groucho was 79 years old, and was a Hollywood and television legend (due to his appearances as host of the show You Bet Your Life in the 1940s and ‘50s). Also, fun fact, dude LITERALLY danced on Hitler’s grave! HA! NICE!

He continued making appearances in the ‘70s, which may have been the result of his agent Erin Fleming, who maaaaaaaay have pushed the elderly actor too hard. This is also considering the increasingly senility that Marx was experiencing, being in his 80s at this point. Eventually, she was fired, and Marx began to settle into his old age. He was given an honorary Academy Award in 1974, and given a standing ovation. This is the last time that he would appear publicly in such a major setting. Gummo died in April of 1977, and Groucho followed soon afterwards, passing away on August 19, 1977, at the age of 86.

Zeppo, the youngest of the brothers, would pass away in November of 1979 at the age of 78, of lung cancer, and was the last of the Marx Brothers alive. And so goes one of the greatest families in film history. Hot damn. I really should watch more of their films.

But let’s FINALLY talk about this picture! What exactly did I think, after all that? Check here for the Recap, and read on for the Review!

Review

Cast and Acting: 9/10

MAN, the Marx Bros are great! Like, holy shit! Zeppo, sadly, doesn’t really get a chance to truly shine, which was something that haunted his career with his brothers (and eventually led him to leave the group altogether). Harpo and Chico are both REALLY good here, playing off each other and playing to their strengths individually. Seriously, they’re great...but nobody here is as good as Groucho Marx. Like, dear Lord, Groucho is fantastic in this movie. Sure, a lot of that is in the writing and jokes, but the DELIVERY of those jokes! Hot damn! So, why the 9? Well...everybody else. Sorry, Margaret Dumont and Louis Calhern are just in a different film entirely. In fact...they’re actually not in a film, but in a play. Yeah, Dumont especially is acting for the stage, rather than for a film audience. And...eh. It’s not terrible, but it definitely shows. Still, the Marx Brothers more than make up for any flaws there.

Plot and Writing: 9/10

I thought the Marx Bros. wrote this movie, but no! Instead, it’s Bert Kalmar, Harry Ruby, Arthur Sheekman, and Nat Perrin. Kalmar and Ruby were a songwriting duo, who had been working with the Marx Bros. on stage for years before they’d been in film. Sheekman was their writer for a few of these stage productions as well, and Nat Perrin was a film screenwriter, who would eventually move on to producing and writing...the original Addams Family TV series? DAMN! All four men were friends to the Marx Bros. throughout their lives, and they injected their flair into this film. So, why the 9? The jokes are absolutely fantastic, for sure...but the ending is a little abrupt for me, and hindered by the random-ass musical number near the end. Nitpicking, in other words. It’s still fantastic.

Directing and Cinematography: 9/10

Hey, Leo McCarey, how’s it been? I think you did a pretty good job with this one, although I’m not going to claim that it’s my favorite. I do think An Affair to Remember was a little better than this, direction-wise. But Henry Sharp, your cinematography is goddamn SOLID in this movie, real talk. Still, good job to you both!

Production and Art Design: 9/10

And yeah, this film does look great. Despite not being based off of a stage production, it certainly feels like I’m watching I professionally produced play. The budget for this one must’ve been high, because the costuming and sets are pretty well-constructed all around. Not The General or The Gold Rush good, but still great.

Music and Editing: 9/10

And finally, the music. Done by the afore-mentioned Bert Kalmary and Harry Ruby, this music is...mostly pretty great. The opening song is a little off for me, and I’m not a massive fan of the random ending number, but the songs are still well-made and performed. Seriously, I don’t have any real complaints about it all, even though I would put in in my playlist or anything. And LeRoy Stone’s editing is also pretty solid, while we’re at it.

For you, Marx Bros., I grant a 90%!

This movie is a hell of a lot of fun, and a great introduction to the Marx Bros. I really need to watch Animals Crackers and A Night at the Opera, now. I love it, seriously.

But now that we’re into talkies, I think it’s time to revisit somebody from the past, attempting to break into this new era. I could go for a Laurel and Hardy film, or the Three Stooges, or even Abbott and Costello (yeah, forgot to mention them in the Recap Intro, sorry), but...no. No, we need to move on into the realm of talkies, and also close out this early era with an old friend...who isn’t doing great right now.

April 4, 2021: The Great Dictator, dir. Charlie Chaplin

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brandstifter-sys · 4 years

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Since I missed Remus’ birthday x_x please take this dukexiety mess as an apology

Dead?

Word Count: 1944

Pairings: Dukexiety (background royaliceit)

Rating: T

Warnings: death mention, intersex enby remus, sex mention, frog mention, spider mention, sibling rivalry

Virgil is just an ordinary necromancer with friends in high places. He goes off exploring on a quest to find a white stag and finds something, well someone, who looks like they’re sleeping in the middle of a tomb that’s been sealed off for a century. It’s one heck of a shock to accidentally raise the dead, if that’s the case, and even more of a shock because Remus is....themself.

Reblogs > Likes

There were legends and stories that circulated the kingdom, all of them fantastical and hard to believe. Most of the time there was some sort of inaccuracy in the legend, like the story of the princess cursed to sleep for a hundred years with her whole kingdom, only to be woken by true love’s kiss. She woke up after a hundred years and went ballistic, screaming at her father for not inviting the thirteenth fairy to her first birthday party, but that was ages ago, and like her parents, she angered the fae as well. Her two children were hit with a similar curse, but unlike her, her children would sleep for eternity until their true loves came. She never told them.

The legend got marred over time, so that people only remembered one of the children. No one believed that legend until recently, when Prince Janus, recently married to the man who he saved from his own curse, found the old tower and investigated. He found Prince Roman and woke him, not giving details on how he did it. It was fine because Janus and his husband, Patton, were madly in love and madly in love with Roman. Too bad Roman didn’t mention that he wasn’t the only one cursed in that tower.

...

It was a rather overcast day when Prince Patton suggested his oldest friend go investigate reports of a white stag in the forest. If change was afoot, Virgil would be the first to tell if it was a blessing or a curse. Virgil reluctantly agreed, if only because Patton made puppy-dog eyes at him. Those puppy-dog eyes were going to kill him someday, and he was the only person he couldn’t resurrect. The things he did for his friends.

That’s what led him deep into the woods, beyond where most people dared to tread. He hated the looming feeling of foreboding nipping at his heels, the way the wind whispered his name. But he kept going, always glancing back, and always moving on when there was no threat. He only considered turning back when he found the tower where Roman was sleeping before. There was no reason to go beyond the boundary of the kingdom, especially with a crumbling ruin in the way.

The door was still open, hanging on its hinges, just as Janus left it. Virgil neared it, just to see what level of stupid Janus reached when he found the tower. But something caught his eye. There was a trap door at the foot of the spiral stairs. Something about it called to the nervous necromancer, and he couldn’t fight the urge to investigate.

Virgil coughed when he opened the door and a cloud of dust hit him in the face. Covering his nose with his cloak, he descended the stairway he revealed, using the magic gem on his walking staff to light his way.

The walls were lined with bones, artfully placed to scare the average person away. Virgil worked with death, it was more of a comfort to be surrounded by it, even if he accidentally reanimated a few bodies when he was startled. If this detour didn’t reveal something new and useful, it would still be fun to tell Prince Roman that he was asleep over a tomb for however long he was there. He would probably cringe at that information.

Something was certainly there, a door that looked ancient with dark hinges and an even darker stain. It radiated magic, making Virgil’s hair stand on end. He could handle a few zombies if he had to, so he flipped his bangs out of his face and pressed forward.

He opened the heavy door with some effort and stepped inside. The room was simple stone with old green tapestries and a stone slab in the center. The green curtains around it were drawn, displaying a body that showed no signs of decay. The person looked like Roman, but they had a mustache and longer hair. Virgil stared at them, wondering what kind of magic kept a dead person so well-preserved. They had to be dead, Roman was trapped for over a century, sure, but he had some kind of air flow at the top of the tower. This person, they didn’t, and they weren’t breathing or twitching like a normal sleeping person. Virgil was confused.

BAM!

“Holy shit!” Virgil yelped and spun around when the door slammed shut. He hastily tried to open it and breathed a sigh of relief when it moved.

“Ack! What the hell!?” a voice yelped from behind him. Virgil’s heart stopped. Not again. He turned around to see the person, sitting upright, glancing around the room. Their eyes landed on Virgil, and a smile crossed their confused features.

“Hi! You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, would you?” they asked with way too much enthusiasm.

“We’re in a crypt under a cursed tower,” Virgil answered slowly, gripping his staff tightly, “and I accidentally disturbed your resting place.”

“I was dead!?” they gawked, “And I don’t have any maggots to show for it!?”

“Yeah I thought that was weird too. But it’s probably been over a hundred years for you so I’m gonna go ahead and put you down again.”

“Aw, do you have to? You’re the first person to talk to me since my brother before he got cursed! And he yelled at me for putting a frog in his shirt! Can I stay undead just a little while?” they pleaded and fluttered their lashes. Virgil blinked twice as their words hit him.

“Who are you?”

“Me? Well I’m Princex Remus! Second in line for the throne! Who are you?”

“I’m Virgil, a necromancer, but you probably figured that out already. You said your brother was cursed.”

“Oh yeah, him,” Remus pouted, “He turned 18 and then he went into a major coma. Mom said it was her fault and we had to keep him safe. Let’s not talk about him, I’d rather know about you, VeeVee.”

“I hate that nickname,” Virgil deadpanned.

"Virgilicious?"

"I'm not responding to that."

“Scare Bear?”

“Sure,” Virgil huffed, expecting the list to go on if he didn’t stop it there and then.

“Okay, Scare Bear! So what is a snack like you doing in a place like this?”

“I was on a mission for the three princes–Patton, Janus, and Roman–and then I stumbled across this place and got curious.”

“Roman!? He woke up!? Okay you gotta take me to him right now! I’ll come back and stay dead but I gotta see him! I owe him a century’s worth of ramblings!”

“I don’t have much of a choice do I?”

“Nope! He got cursed and passed out and wouldn’t get up until his true love woke him! I set him in the tower and came down here to relax with the decomposed after that workout!”

“And then?”

“That’s the last thing I remember! That guy had some nerve getting cursed at the bottom of the stairs, I might be strong and nimble but mommy’s favorite is as heavy as he is whiny!”

“Shit," Virgil grumbled as he tried to put the pieces together, "Let me try something." Remus watched him expectantly. The gem in his staff glowed a bright purple, as did his eyes. Remus couldn't understand the words slipping from his lips but that double voice was doing something for them. He was trying to put Remus back. It wasn’t working!

“That was cool! Can you magic me a pair of big ol honkers?” Remus cheered and clapped their hands. Virgil’s shoulders sagged and his face fell, his eyes losing the purple glow.

“I’m a necromancer, I can only raise the dead.”

“And my dick!”

“Right, yeah, okay, point is you’re not dead, you were asleep for a century.”

“Just like Ro-hoe?! Then that means—”

“Oh no,” Virgil groaned. He did not sign up for this. He was too aro for this. Remus was cute and hyper but he wasn’t sure how they’d handle a full on rejection. It could get ugly.

“Oh yes!” Remus giggled, “It was the same curse, you woke me up, you’re my true love! This calls for a celebration! No one should love me so it’s a huge deal!”

“Wait, what?”

“We should definitely make out!”

“You have near-death breath, and more self-hatred issues than me. I'll pass."

"Self-hatred issues? Me!? No! I just don't do that romance shit and I was born in between! That's why I didn't think I would be cursed like Prince No-Bone! But I was and you woke me! We’re gonna be bestest friends! With benefits!”

“I know Roman, if you’re like him, there’s no benefits whatsoever.”

“Ha! I like you! We’re gonna be besties! Let’s go so I can show off that I got a hot soulmate and make Ro jealous!” Remus cheered and jumped to their feet full of life and running on sibling spite.

“Don’t. Just tell him I raised your corpse. He’ll shit himself," Virgil countered and leaned on his staff with a dastardly smirk. Remus had never had someone come up with something else to torment the precious firstborn. It was too good to be true.

“I’m starting to think I did die and went to heaven,” Remus mumbled. Virgil shook his head and stood up.

"Sorry to disappoint but if I'm here it's hell."

"You are selling me on this whole soulmate business! C'mon let's go get some embalming fluid and really sell it! And some frogs! Ooh maybe there’ll be some mama frogs out there with their eggs in their backs! Trypophobia and even more frogs! Roman’ll shit a brick."

“The frogs aren’t gonna cut it this time. He’s got two husbands, and one of them was a frog for most of his life.”

“No frogs?” Remus pouted.

“If you can give up the green, salamanders would work,” Virgil shrugged and pushed the door open with just as much effort as when he opened it. He didn’t catch the bright grin that crossed Remus’ face, but the body slam to his back when he got that damn door open, he didn’t miss that!

“You’re right! Or maybe I could use worms! Or spiders!”

“Just don’t touch mine. Gigi just finished molting,” Virgil grunted and balanced himself.

“You have spiders! Ooh! You have to show me! Spiders are so cute!”

“Don’t eat them.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, that would be awful!” they laughed, then purred “But if you wanna give me something better to eat---” Virgil jolted and stumbled back when the frisky little whirlwind grabbed his butt.

“Give me a good enough reason once we’re out of here, and I’ll consider it,” he huffed and led Remus to the stairway.

“Really?”

“Yeah, if you can convince me. But don’t hold your breath.”

“You know if I die and you want some action all you have to do is bring me back! You look like you’d enjoy some zombie fun, and I’m just a rotten kind of cute when I don’t get startled awake!”

“Don’t you have some sibling scheming to do?”

“Yeah, and I have to get back to arting and training and pranks and making people uncomfortable with my existence, that last one is my specialty!”

“Then let’s go. You need to get started on all those things soon.”

“I’m not making you uncomfortable?”

“I know, I’m just as surprised as you are. Maybe it is that soulmate bs,” he teased and led Remus into the world again. Maybe the soulmate thing wasn’t bs, and maybe it was the best day of either of their lives, they just hadn’t realized it yet.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #dukexiety #royaliceit mention #roceit mention #moceit mention #royality mention #sex mention tw #death mention tw #frog mention tw #spider mention tw #sandyscribed

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scentedsongrebel · 4 years

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Tyohaar (Festival)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Celebrating Dussehra in Delhi with the Soldier Trio.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Hindu references, mythological stories, Mentions of Violence, minor angst, Hospitals and injuries, tell me if I miss any....

Word Count: 4290

A/N: Sorry for the delay you guys, I was having a rough few days but I finally have it out. Hope you guys like it.

This from the same universe as my stories Homecoming and Bura na Mano Holi hai but can be read as a stand alone.

Hope you guys like it and sorry for any mistake.

Pictures not mine credit to the owners.

Steve runs his right hand through his hair as he looks over at the crowd gathered around him. The constant buzz was voices hangs around in the air as people keep talking over each other and children burst firecrackers with their parents close by, keeping watch.

You stand near the ice cream stall, Bucky and Sam with their Bionic masks on their faces concealing their true identity, check over the huge menu that the ice cream vendor points at. Your figures visible through a street light under which you all stand in the dark that comes with 9pm.

When you had seen the ice cream cart making its way in your direction, you had just screeched in excitement and ran towards it hastily asking what ice creams each of them would like to have.

The cart itself was impressive with a huge refrigerator attached to wheels at the bottom for the guy manning it to propel it in whatever direction he wants. Several pictures of ice cream bar were hanging off the top of the thing attached to the huge half cylinder shaped roof over the cart and one corner of the cart had several menus hanging off it.

After looking at the menu once he had decided on the simple orange bar but after you had exclaimed about this kulfi thing being amazing he decided to try that.

Bucky and Sam were an entire other story. They had to make their own decision and so they had been staring at the god damned thing for the past 5 minutes not reaching any decision.

You had already started licking your kulfi bar and Steve was very close to stop waiting for his friends and just eat the thing himself.

"I really wanna go for this chocolate bar but there are like three of them. Which one do I even go for?"

"The one that you want Sam" Steve grinds his teeth together, having lost all his patience close to 3 minutes ago

"I don't know what I want that's the problem Steve" He sighs and Steve has to take a deep breath as he comes in closer to look at the menu properly

"Well you're allergic to nuts so the fruit and nut option is out"

"What if its the best one?" Bucky pipes in and you nod from beside him, the corner of your lip stained with cream from your kulfi

"It is amazing, the nuts just add perfect crunch to it" Steve closes his eyes in annoyance before opening them again and shooting a glare your way as he wipes the food off your face with a tissue that he picks up from the cart

"Damn it" Sam hits his hand against the pillar supporting the roof of the ice cream cart, winces in pain, shakes his hand, then brings it to his chest to cradle it with the other hand to relieve the pain that punching a metal cart entails

Steve shoots a very very apologetic look the appalled guys way who not so discretely pulls his cart away from the group. With his face heating up, he turns back to his friends, very dedicated to get it over with as fast as he can before he looses all his money in the huge tip he sure is given the guy.

"No ice cream is worth a run to the hospital"

"How do you know it isn't though?" you shoot him a cheeky smile and before he can stop, Steve finds his lips breaking into a curve.

"He would take the chocolate bar" Steve finally decides before there is any more argument and is relieved when Sam seems to accept his decision.

The vendor scrunches his eyebrows together before pointing at the chocolate option on the menu in question and nods his head when Steve gives his confirmation. Steve has to remind himself that not everyone in the world understands English.

"Bucky?"

"I'm gonna go with the butterscotch cornetto"

"Good"

Once the orders are placed and received and Steve has thanked and given extra tip to the vendor for his commendable patience, they head on towards the crowd.

"Its funny how you preach about Sam not eating nuts cause he's allergic but when it comes to you, you don't practice"

"I'm not allergic to anything"

"Oh but you were when you were the small punk" he grins "remember when milk products would give you horrible gas but that didn't stop you" Bucky says through a bite of his ice cream, prompting you to giggle as Steve shoots him a pointed look

"Yeah I grew up and know that's dangerous"

"Oh yeah you grew up alright" Bucky gestures at his body as Steve huffs

You stop a little away from the cluster of people that have gathered in the park and the others follow your lead.

A massive crowd of people has gathered around the park and form a circle around two enormously huge statues of three mustached guys in some kind of robes. They are standing at almost 20 feet tall, one smaller than the other. The statues are tied to the ground by long ropes that keep them erect.

When Sam had curiously asked about the material used to design the appreciable design you had google searched and informed them about how they made use of bamboo sticks to make the frame of the body after which paper and cloth is used to cover it and lastly paint to give the clothes color and add facial features.

The mustache is very important

You had told them after Bucky made a comment about it being his favorite.

"Okay so I just realized this dude in the center has additional heads? On either side" Sam wonders curiously as he looks over at the design

"Those are heads?" Bucky squints as he now watches the statue with a new perspective "Holy shit! Those are heads, I thought that was some jewelry"

Steve scrunches his eyebrows together and looks over at the statue in the middle and there it is. Tiny heads on either side of the face.

"Yeah, why does he have-" Steve points his finger at the subject in question and starts counting "9, no sorry 10. Why does he have 10 heads? And why are they so small?"

You shoot a small grin his way, looking around at the crowd gathered and take his hand in yours

"The heads are supposed to be the same size but I guess it would have messed up the balancing of the statue so they used small sized heads"

"Okay that makes sense but what are we here for" Sam crosses his arms and winces as a screaming child runs by him "And why are we not on the quinjet and half way to New York by now?"

It was a simple reckon mission to check up on the anonymous tip of a possible Hydra base in a small village in North India.

It was just gonna be the Soldier Trio but you gotten really excited when you learned they were going to your home country and decided to join them.

Seeing as it was just a reckon for an anonymous tip that was mailed to Tony and because they really didn't think it would turn out to be anything, Steve had agreed for you to join them on the condition that you stay at the hotel while they finish their job.

The simple mission did turn into a full fledged fight when the base actually did have a fully functioning Hydra facility and one of their guys in civilian clothes recognized Steve and issued a warning. It took hours to take them down with the help from the Indian Army and Thankfully, there were no civilian casualties.

Steve had stopped the rest of the Avengers from getting their as the fight was almost over by the time they got the news and there was no use for them to travel all the way across the world for nothing and so they stayed.

Following that was a stay at an Army hospital where Sam got treated for a broken nose and several severe wounds across his body while Steve and Bucky were pretty much healed completely by the time they got to the hospital.

You had been safe and sound when Steve had rushed to your hotel room in Delhi in panic only to find you watching the news in fear and trying to get in contact. After all this time with the Avengers you knew better than to leave the hotel.

After a teary reunion and you having completely examined him for injuries and kissing the hell out of him, you spent the rest of the week in the hospital, looking over Sam.

Following that was an entire week of diplomatic meetings in New Delhi, explaining to the government officials why a simple reckon turned into the destruction that it did and the presence of Hydra, their aim and all the other stuff that was out of your expertise and so you let it go.

You were the Avengers'' doctor, not an Avenger and sitting alone while the team deals with these things is something you are used to.

So seeing all this you could understand why Sam would be desperate to go home and just sleep for a whole month but when you were on the way to the airport and saw a Rawan statue on the way, there was no way you would have gotten on the plane. Especially when you googled it and realized Dussehra was today.

"We are here because its Dussehra Sam!" You exclaim, your mouth slips in a huge grin as you feel the warmth that always comes with celebrating festivals at home.

"You already said that Y/n" He grits his teeth and you make a face at him

"Its a festival. Don't you think its faith that I'm here and we're free, exactly on Dussehra?"

"I really don't"

"You should" You straighten up the kurta that you had purchased at one of the stores on the way in your festival excitement. Once who had learned you actually were home on Dussehra for the first time in 3 years, there was no stopping you from going all out and buying an Indian outfit from the first store you could find.

It was a dark green 3/4th sleeve Kurta that ran down to just below your knee. It was quiet modest the little fake buttons running down the middle from the closed collar. It was had simple golden design all through it and you had paired it with a designed palazzo that you had honestly fallen in love with.

(I’m really bad at this description. Sorry)

Before Sam can but in with another comment you motion towards a corner of the park and lead Steve by hand, which he does not resist. You know Sam and Bucky will follow close behind.

When you reach a less crowded corner where you are a little away from the crowd and still have a view of the statues you sit down on the grass, pulling Steve's hand to pull him down with you.

"We really need to sit on the ground?" He asks, clearly knowing the answer

"Its grass Steve and I've seen you in proximity of way worse things like Alien blood and and Hydra goons" You chastise and Steve sighs

Bucky quietly sits down in front of you, patting your shoulder with his metal hand that is disguised with some advance SHEILD tech, before settling down and crossing his legs

"I love that you keep Hydra goons and Alien goo at the same level of gross"

You just shrug as Sam sighs and sits down too and Steve is left with no other option but to follow. The four of you sit around in a small circle with your legs crossed.

"Yeah so Dussehra" You rub your hands together "I did not want to have to scream for Sam in all that noise"

You refer to the loud, screaming children that were making it hard to talk at the place that you guys previously stood at.

"What do you mean for Sam?"

"We got super hearing Pal, we can hear her even if she whispers" Steve squeezes his shoulder and Sam swats his hand away, licking quickly at the corner of his ice cream that starts to melt and fall down.

"Yeah so whatever" You pull the attention back to yourself

"Today is Dussehra" You start to explain "It is the Hindu festival that signifies the victory of good over evil.

See years ago Lord Ram was the King of Ayodhya, he is one of the human birth of Lord Vishnu, one of the three major Hindu gods. And he was sent on a 14 year exile because of a promise his father made to his step mother"

"She a villain?" Sam buts in and you shake your head

"She loved him like her own son. Lord Ram had two step mothers Kaikeyi and Sumitra and his birth mother was Kausalya. He was the son of King Dasharath and he had three brothers Laxman, Bharat and Shatrugan. They were a very close knit family"

"Then why did she send him on an exile?"

"She got carried away. My mom always says that it was the part that she had to play to take Lord Ram to his destiny. He was God, he was supposed to accomplish the mission he had for this birth and Kaikeyi was an important part of that. She regretted her choice and tried to make it better but Ram declined. But that is a story for Diwali. I will tell you then."

"Okay" Steve takes your hand in his and prompts you to narrate the story further. Sam and Bucky looking at you in interest

You take long, deep breath and continue

"Yeah so during his exile, his wife Sita ji and his brother Laxman accompanied him through his journey in the forests. One day his brother had an altercation with King Rawan's sister and cut her nose"

"He what?"

"Yeah, she survived, never understood the logistics of it but she survived and returned to her brother and to avenge his sister and because he was evil he decided to kidnap Lord Ram's wife Sita who was the human birth of goddess Laxmi, the wife to lord Vishnu"

"The one Ram is the human form of?" Bucky asks trying to keep up and you nod

"Yes. So he fools Sita, making her think he was an innocent Sadhu asking for food and then abducted her and took her to Lanka and then after a 10 month long hunt and help from several people he found on the way, he finally discovers Lanka and kills Rawan."

"10 months??" Sam exclaims and you nod

"No one knew where Lanka was at the time, Lord Ram had assembled an Army of half humans and half monkeys who helped him in search"

"Half monkeys" A hint of a smile takes over Bucky;s face but you just nod

"Its so interesting because I was talking to my father once and we figured that the descriptions of the Half monkeys or the vanar sena matches that of the primitive man so my father had said that it could mean that was the time we were transitioning from that form to this form and thus there were both forms existing simultaneously"

"Wow. But that is not part of the story?"

"Its not clearly stated but my father and I really did wonder about it a lot and it makes sense."

"Okay?" Bucky nods his head, furrowing his eyebrows together in understanding

"And Lanka meaning Sri Lanka?" Steve asks and you nod

"Yes, he was the King of Lanka, present day Sri Lanka and that may also be the reason it took them so long to find Lanka, it was an island in the south. They did not know anything about it"

"Wow. Okay I think I get it a little bit" Sam nods his head "So one of those dude is Rawan?" You nod "and the others?"

"The middle one is Rawan, the other two are his brother Kumbhkaran and his son Meghnath, they were one of the key helpers of Rawan but that is a story for another time"

The collective nods of all three of their head tells you that their minds have exhausted their capacity and you giggle at the thought and look back at the people that have started to prepare for the ceremony, if you can call it that

"They are gonna burn the statues one by one, the last one being Rawan. This ceremony signifies, Lord Ram's victory of good over evil"

"And the 10 heads?"

"Rawan had 10 heads, it was part of a blessing he had earned from Lord Shiva after years of hard worshiping. When Ram tried to kill Rawan, he tried to shoot arrows at his head but they would just re-emerge until Rawan's other brother, Vibhishan who had decided to support good and had thus betrayed his brother told Lord Ram to aim at his stomach."

"And he died?"

"Yes" you grin "Tale as old as time. Victory of good over evil"

Sam sits up straight from where he was completely crouched, a little stick in his hand, now that he had eaten all the ice cream from it.

"Well okay, nice story" he runs his tongue across his lips and looks up at the big statues and the now busy crowd "When are they gonna- you know?" he wiggles his fingers trying to imitate the gracious dance of the fire

By the time you had finished your story, a the crowd had doubled. From the corner of your eye, you could see the people that were preparing to roll up a newspaper

"You see them" You point at the group of men and three pairs of eyes follow your motion "Those people over there with the rolled up paper? They are gonna light fire on the paper and then place in on the statues that have been filled with inflammables"

"Oh okay"

You guys sit in silence for a while as the announcement that the function is starting is made, from your position in the far end, it is very easy to have a perfect glimpse of the festivities and so you four sit there with Sam and Bucky who were previously facing you have turned their backs on you as they face the other side.

You sit besides Steve, your shoulders touching and your hand in his but still maintaining a respectful distance as is appreciated in this place.

"After everything that the trip brought" Steve whispers in your ear, not taking his eyes off the man that starts to light up the statue of Meghnath, it takes a while before the flame catches up and the statue quickly starts to catch fire and everyone starts moving farther away "I'm glad you could have this"

He squeezes your hand lightly and you turn to look his way

"Thankyou for letting me tag along with you guys"

"I'm always glad to have you around doll" A small curve takes his lips as people scream in joy when the statue starts to completely burn and they start to light up the Kumbhkaran statue "Though I would prefer trips where I'm not worried about Hydra getting to you"

You bite your lower lip as the loud sound of crackers that had been tied inside the statue start to burst

"God its been so long since things have been so loud around me. God I missed it"

Steve throws his head back and laughs before shaking his head

"We can have our house as loud as you want"

You laugh at that

"Yeah, no I think the sound pollution is only good when given in small doses"

"We have have whatever you want in our home"

“okay...?” you shoot him a skeptical look as he grins

"Why are you not getting it?" he asks

A loud cheer comes from in front of you as they start to finally light up Rawan

"Getting what?"

"I'm asking you something"

"There was no question Steven" You are now extremely confused

"Well fine" He huffs and looks around to make sure no one is looking and takes both your hands in his as he takes your attention to him "I'm trying to talk about building our life together"

"We already live together"

"Yeah and that's the best thing that ever happened to me"

You smile

"Okay...?"

The loud noise of crackers booms from the front as people scream in excitement

"Y/n, my love" he starts, staring deep into your eyes "When I was pulled out of that frozen state and been told that I slept for almost 70 years and everyone and everything I knew was gone, I never thought I would have a reason"

He stops to take a deep breath and you feel your heart quicken in its speed

"A reason to want to stay you know? I went through the motions, did what was considered right for the world, fought the fight that needed to be fought but I was just going through the motions. Doing what I thought I needed to do. Doing what may very well be the reason I woke up now right? Because everything happens for a reason right?

And I thought my reason was this. To discover Hydra' presence in SHEILD, fight off freaking Aliens and every Avenger thing that I did and still do. It was all I had except for my friends but even that felt hallow like they were only my co-workers even after I found Bucky, there was something missing. It wasn't until I met you that I started loving life. I have never done that. Even in the forties, I had hated myself, dreaded the next day and that is what I was doing now but Y/n my love, you slammed your way into my life and unknowingly broke down every single wall that I had built. And I love you for that and for the amazing, brilliant, smart, beautiful, kind, lovely person that you are and so so much more my love-"

"Steve" You whisper, tears freely falling down your eyes and even through the explosion of voices around you, you know he hears your whispers just like every other voice around you is muted except for his

"Y/n" he whispers back and you barely make it out on the shape of his lips

"Y/n I have been waiting for the right moment since forever ago and I even went the traditional route and got your mothers' permission and since then I've been waiting and waiting but I just couldn’t find the right moment"

"Steve"

"Right now, in this exact moment, this exact second of time, I think I realize that every moment I have with you is perfect. There is no the perfect moment because everyone I have with you is perfect"

"Steve"

"So Y/n L/n, would you do me the honor of marrying me and making me the happiest man on earth?"

"I- Steve"

A second of stutter in your voice and Steve feels his heart stop. What the hell did he do. You didn’t want this. You were not ready. He should not have done this here. He should not have spoiled this day for you. He should have waited. He should have the ring.

"I'm sorry but the ring is this secret safe in the house and I never thought it would happen like this but I promise to give it to you the moment we land in New York if you say yes that is and its okay if you don’t” He starts blabbering, his fear taking over his tongue “Its okay if you say no. I can live with that. Its fine. No hard feelings. I-”

“Shut up” you scream and he goes silent before looking around, noticing how people move away from the smoke coming off the burning statues and get closer to where the four of you sit

“I would have kissed you right now but I don’t think that would be appropriate in this setting” You tease pointing at the group of kids that are starting at the group of you suspiciously and Steve checks his mask just to make sure its still working

“Are you?”

“Saying yes?” you bite your lip “Maybe? I don’t know. Give me the ring and maybe you’ll get an answer.”

You push yourself up from the ground, patting his shoulder one last time, saying something about checking where you guys could have dinner around here, leaving him dumb founded and confused.

“You know she said yes right?” Bucky asks as he stands up too, offering a hand to Steve to help him stand. He then offers his hand to Sam who takes it but falls on his butt when Bucky pulls him up and then leaves his hand promptly.

“She did?” Steve asks still confused.

“You were the one who said you loved her horrible jokes man” Sam says, massaging his back to relieve some pain he had gotten after his fall, punching Bucky on the shoulder which has zero effect on the super soldier and then he is following after you

“Come on Punk, I was promised food” Bucky follows right behind Sam, leaving behind a very confused Steve with a group of kids that have closed in on him

Before he can understand what is happening, one of the kids blocks his way

“Are you Captain America?”

And now Steve really is speechless.

---- THE END ----

Sorry if this felt like a rushed ending but my brain had stopped working.

@fangirl-swagg Thankyou for encouraging me to just write it. I would have quit half way through if it wasn’t for your enthusiasm.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers reader #steve x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x desi reader #steve rogers x indian reader #steve rogers desi reader #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers fluff

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justlookfrightened · 4 years

Text

Second Zimbits bingo post #2

See the first post

Urban fantasy

Bitty woke to weak sunlight illuminating a bare room.

The corners were dusty, but the sheets on the bed were clean enough, if a little scratchy. The T-shirt Jack had given him to sleep in was plenty soft, and so big it covered Bitty down to the thighs.

He crawled out of bed and to the radiator, where he’d draped his wet clothes the night before. He prodded at them with a finger. His underwear was dry, thank the Lord, and his jeans were only a little damp around the waistband. His own T-shirt, rinsed in the bathroom sink with his underwear and socks, had also dried.

His shoes, though … maybe he could get away with stocking feet until he actually had to leave the house. Haus? Jack had pronounced it kind of funny when he welcomed Bitty inside the night before and showed him the living room with its truly disgusting couch. If the living room was his only choice, Bitty had decided, he would sleep on the floor. It was still miles better than trying to find shelter outside.

But then Jack had gone upstairs for a few minutes. When he came back down, he said, “Looks like Johnson’s away again. You can have his bed for the night.”

Jack had shown him the bathroom, which was also gross, but had hot water, and given him a clean shirt that fit Bitty like it was meant to be nightclothes anyway.

Bitty had reveled in the feeling of the shower raining down on his shoulders and back, and he uttered a silent apology to whoever owned the soap and shampoo he used. Once he was clean, he washed his smalls as best he could. He was just wringing them out when Jack knocked on the door and called, “I don’t know if you have a toothbrush, but there should be a new one in the drawer on the left if you want it.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Bitty called back, and lost no time in cleaning his teeth,

“No problem,” Jack said. “I have to be up early, so I’m going to bed. Good night,”

“Good night,” Bitty replied through a mouthful of toothpaste.

Jack really had turned out to be a godsend after a less than auspicious beginning. Bitty had felt the tears coming when he turned to leave Jack’s shop after hearing it was already closed; he didn’t know how far he he had walked in the snow already, and he just wanted a chance to get warm, even if the cost of coffee or tea would have put a dent in the meager funds in his wallet.

Maybe his magic had somehow summoned Jack when he needed him? Or if not summoned him, given him a change of heart?

No, probably not. Bitty’s magic didn’t usually work without him making an effort, and he had never tried to work it on people. That seemed wrong, somehow. Besides, if he could have used magic to change hearts, he would have used it on Mama and Coach and stayed in his old, comfortable life.

At any rate, it was way past early, judging by the winter sun, but Jack hadn’t woken him to send him on his way. He wasn’t even sure which room was Jack’s, and he didn’t want to wake up a stranger by mistake, so he couldn’t look for him..

Once dressed, Bitty folded Jack’s T-shirt over his arm, picked up his shoes and padded down the stairs. He wasn’t exactly sure how many people lived here, or what their relationship was to one another, but Jack didn’t seem to think they’d mind Bitty crashing for the night. He could at least do some muffins to thank them, assuming there was a working kitchen.

The living room with the disgusting couch was empty of people, and so was the kitchen just beyond it. Well, kitchen, if he used the term loosely. There was a refrigerator, and a stove, and a sink and cabinets. Maybe the appliance that got the most use was the microwave, judging by the food spattered on the inside of the door.

The floor didn’t look like it had been mopped this year, the refrigerator was full of beer and convenience foods and the cabinets held boxes of protein bars and at least a case of sriracha.

How had Jack made such good coffee yesterday? If this was his kitchen, it was really no wonder that he thought it acceptable to microwave a stale scone. The wonder was that the scone was edible at all.

No matter. Bitty could make his muffins and get this kitchen set to rights. It was really the least he could do for the people who took him in last night, even if most of them didn’t know it yet.

Bitty wrinkled his nose as he stuffed his feet into his damp shoes and made his way to the counter. He pulled his old recipe book from the pocket of his hoodie and turned the pages, looking for what to make when ingredients were scarce. Soon, he had a batter mixed with eggs, flour, oil and milk that all came to hand at just the right time. So did blueberries. They were frozen, but Bitty supposed he couldn’t be too picky when it was February.

The oven was ancient, and it took ages to heat, but it did get hot. While Bitty was waiting, he made a start on the cleaning. Once the muffins were baking, he looked at the ingredients he had left and made a start on a pie. Muffins were good, but it really would take a pie to show the depth of his gratitude. Besides, he couldn’t even think of leaving until it was done and the kitchen was set to rights. It didn’t hurt that he found apples for the filling as soon as the dough for the crust was chilling.

The muffins were out and the pie in the oven when he was interrupted by two men, both at least Jack’s size, maybe bigger, standing in the doorway.

“What the fuck is that smell?” one said. “It smells like my aunt’s house, but with more love and innocence.”

“Bro, no offense, but I’ve been to your aunt’s house,” the larger one said. “Compared to this, her house smells like a shithole.”

Bitty stood stock still. He was pretty sure they meant the food smelled good (because really, it did), but the way they expressed themselves …

He was still standing and staring when the first man who spoke noticed him.

“Uh, who are you, little dude?”

“And what are you doing in our kitchen?” the bigger guy said. “Are you like some kind of an elf out of a fairy tale?”

An elf? This man was mistaking a full-grown man for an elf? Sure, he was a kitchen witch, but you couldn’t tell by looking.

“I’m not an elf,” he said. “Jack let me stay here last night, and I figured I’d make y’all some food to thank you for your hospitality.”

“Jack’s gone already, bro,” the not-quite-as-large one said. “Sorry if you were expecting to see him this morning.”

“Imagine that,” the other one said. “Jack bringing a guy home, and then sneaking out of his own room while the guy’s sleeping. Sorry for his lack of manners, uh —”

Bitty knew his face was burning at what the man was implying. He would never, not just after meeting someone at least. Not that he hadn’t thought about it a little before falling asleep, wearing Jack’s T-shirt. Jack was … very attractive, and kind, even if his manners left something to be desired. Bitty had laughed at himself then, for thinking his life could be like one of Mama’s romance novels, with a hero with a chiseled jaw and six-pack abs coming to his rescue.

“Eric,” Bitty finally managed to sputter. “Eric Bittle. And if you were implying what I thought you were, it wasn’t like that. I took shelter from the storm in Jack’s coffee shop last night, and he let me stay in — I think he said it was someone named Johnson’s room?”

“Johnson,” the blond snorted. “Dude’s never here. Anyway, I’m Adam. You can call me Holster. This is Justin, but he goes by Ransom.”

“Okay,” Bitty said. “Y’all can call me Bitty, if you want. Sit, and have some muffins. The coffee’s probably not as good as Jack’s —” Bitty glared at the crusty old coffee maker “— but it should do.”

Ransom and Holster sat and ate. They ate so much that Bitty had to keep a close eye on the basket, especially after another man, this one in nothing but a mustache and Wonder Woman briefs, wandered in.

“Hell — holy shit, what is this?” he said, seeing the basket of muffins that the first two hadn’t quite been able to finish off. Probably because Bitty had multiplied them when no one was looking.

“Breakfast,” Ransom said, taking another bite. “Thanks to our new best friend, Eric Bittle.”

“He’s ours, Shitty,” Holster said. “You can’t have him.”

“That’s not how friendship works,” the new guy — Shitty? — said before Bitty could protest. “Where’d you find him?”

“In the kitchen,” Holster said.

“Actually, Jack found him,” Ransom said. “Brought him home and put him in Johnson’s room last night.”

Bitty took the pie from the oven and set it on the cooling rack before clearing his throat and saying, “‘Him’ is standing right here.”

“Sorry,” the new guy saud. “Shitty Knight at your service.”

“Shitty?”

“Long story,” Shitty said. “How do you know Jackabelle?”

“I don’t,” Bitty said. “I just stopped into the coffee shop, and he realized I was stranded and took pity on me.”

“That — kind of sounds like something Jack would do,” Shitty said.

“Anyway, I made the muffins and the pie to thank him, and all of you, for your hospitality,” Bitty said. “My name is Eric, but call me Bitty.”

“I guess I can see how you got that nickname,” Shitty said, standing up to pour his own coffee.

“I’m not that small,” Bitty protested. “It’s a hockey nickname, ‘cause my last name’s Bittle.”

“Right,” Shitty said.

“Wait, dude, you play hockey?” Holster said. “We played in college.That’s how we all met.”

“Used to play,” Bitty said. Because that was in high school, back in Georgia.

“What do you do now? Besides turning out wicked muffins?” Shitty said. “Where did you even find blueberries? Did you go to the store?”

“Did you remember the part where he was stranded?” Ransom said. “How would he get to the store?”

“That’s right,” Shitty said, and helped himself to another muffin. “Holy fuck, these are good. So what’s your plan?”

“Um, maybe someone could direct me to the train station?” Bitty said. “I walked from there last night, to Jack’s coffee shop, but he drove me here, and I don’t quite know how to get back.”

“Dude, you’re not gonna walk there,” Holster said, eyeing Bitty’s sneakers. “It’s too far. And the snow’s like a foot deep. Streets are mostly plowed, but it’s messy.’’

“Maybe you could tell me how to get to the coffee shop then?” Bitty asked. “I did want to leave that pie for Jack and if I leave it here …”

“Yeah, no,” Holster said. “It’ll definitely disappear. How’d you make it so fast anyway? I thought pies were, like, hard.”

“Not really,” Bitty said. “And sometimes when I’m in a kitchen, pies just appear.”

“Cool superpower, brah,” Shitty said. “But you don’t want to carry that pie all the way to the shop. I can drive you in a little bit. I was headed that way anyway.”

Ransom and Holster left, off to do whatever kind of work it was they did (consulting, they said, but what did that mean?). Shitty disappeared upstairs, presumably to put some clothes on, and Bitty cleaned up the kitchen. And made two batches of cookies: chocolate chip and ginger snaps.

He made sure to hide the cookies and the leftover muffins under clean dish towels on the counter, in hopes they would be discovered later, when he was gone. Shitty had already been looking at him like there was something strange going on, and he had no wish to explain his magic.

Well, really, he had no ability to explain it, either. It started when he was small. When he was just a tyke he could produce pies and cookies and cakes better than bakers ten times his age. Back when he was five, he didn’t question that there were always chocolate chips in the cupboard when he needed them, always eggs and butter in the fridge, and the flour canister was never empty.

It had been going on for a matter of months when MooMaw noticed there was something more than unusual baking talent there. She pulled him aside and said she was the very same way, and he must never tell anyone. Not even his parents. Apparently, the magic skipped a generation.

Over the years, she told him what she had learned. She was always able to bake good food, but some of the magic only seemed to kick in if she was baking for other people.

“If I wanted to make a cupcake, just for me, and I needed some almond extract, do you think I’d find it in my cabinet?” she said. “Never. But if I was baking a whole batch of cupcakes for your class at school, it would be there, sure as there’s a nose on my face.”

“But MooMaw,” he’d asked. “Why would you ever bake just one cupcake?”

Over the years, he’d found that he couldn’t always get exactly what he wanted. There were no in-season strawberries in December, no matter how much he needed them. Some recipes seemed to work better than others when he needed to put his magic to use, and they were usually the ones he copied by hand from MooMaw’s book. But his cakes and pies and cookies seemed to bake faster than most people’s no matter what recipe he used, and once baked, they wouldn’t run out during a meal or a party, not as long as he kept watch and willed the serving basket or plate to stay full.

No matter how harmless his magic seemed, he knew MooMaw was right. People didn’t like somebody who was different, and he was already different enough. Mama and Coach hadn’t kicked him out, precisely, when he explained that the kids who tormented him for being gay weren’t exactly wrong, but his relationship with them had grown strained overnight.

Best to find somewhere where he could be himself, by himself, and bake for people who didn’t know who he was or question why it tasted so good. It was already far too late for that here. He would take Jack his pie and be on his way.

Read the next part

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits bingo #my fic

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

Text

Kids Getting Older (Sriracha, Part 30.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could keep you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Since you realized that Eleven is getting older and more distant from both you and Jim, you just seem to finally realize how quickly kids grow... And that maybe the kids are not just kids anymore.

A/N: I love this weird family dynamic so much. It is really relaxing to just write a... Normal family dynamic. But that is going to end with the next part. Stay tuned!

Word count: 1.7 K

Tagging: @nemodoren @creedslove @missdictatorme

Master list: H E R E

Christmas holiday spent like a family? The Christmas of 1984 were the best Christmas you had lived through. You spent Christmas Eve in the house of your parents, cooking the dinner with El and mom, and Aiden's girlfriend - you couldn't believe she is real - while you let the boys talk about stuff and drink some Whiskey. Even Aiden got some - just a little, though.

The other day, when you opened all the presents you found under the tree, you left for Joyce's - and holy moly, that house was living. Both Wheelers were there, both Byers boys came along, there were Dustin, Lucas, and Max, even Steve came by. Joyce had a big heart and her house was big enough to take in so many people.

You forced both Hopper and Eleven to pose on a photo with you, having Jonathan taking the picture of you. Each of you had the most disgusting Christmas sweater, just because Aiden bought and gave you these bad boys - Hopper's was too tight, Eleven's too big and your, no matter the size, was just disgusting. After that, kids took their new toys and went to play outside while the adults, along with Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, remained in the house and had a cup of the special Christmas hot chocolate from Mrs. Byers herself.

Then, each of the kids got dressed up and went out for a snowball fight, snowman building and some sledding in the forest behind the house. And bet Hopper’s best shirt that you made him go too. Soon enough, you were there with all the teenagers while he stuck some snow under your jacket, hearing you laugh and scream out loud, having Will and Mike in total terror when you jumped around, trying to get the snow out. In the end, you formed a strong alliance with Eleven and Max, giving the boys exactly what they deserved, winning the fight completely. Then, to calm down, you proceeded to make some angels in the snow while Hop went back inside.

As the year progressed, Eleven started to have a few sleepovers here and there - sometimes, she stayed at Karen’s when boys had a movie or game nights, sometimes you had Max over for dinner. And let me say, since she was living with an asshat like Billy, her older brother, she loved spending time at your place. Especially when Hop had to stay at the station.

When talking about Hop, that man was experimenting. And you didn't know if you liked what you had at home or if you're afraid of what’s he going to come up with next. First came the mustache. Okay, he liked Magnum P.I., you could understand. Then, he put on a bit weight - he appeared taller and more like a bear than ever before. You didn't mind that at all actually because at least, you knew that he's happy with you. And... After that... The wardrobe and cologne experiments came by. Sometimes he pulled out such an outfit that you dragged him to the restaurant’s bathroom to kiss the living fuck out of him and to have a quickie on the bathroom.

Yet, sometimes, he wasn’t looking his best. At those mornings, you stood there, watched him with gritted teeth and walked around with your eyebrows raised. You tried to tell him gently that these maybe aren't working for him the way he would like to and that maybe, you could visit Starcourt with him to pick something else. But Jim was Jim and completely ignored your opinion when it came to fashion.

Starcourt. One of the best Bloomington-Hawkins inventions ever. You loved that place - from the big cinema to a variety of shops it had. Sometimes, when you knew that El won't be misbehaving after, you took there with you so she could choose some new clothes, sometimes you bought her an ice-cream, other times you just walked around the place and talked about boys and stuff. Especially about Mike.

Oh, you remembered the day when the three-inch rule came to your house. You were just watching a movie, curled under Hopper’s arms, being caught up in the chase. That was when a sudden burst of Eleven’s laughter could be heard, making Hop alarmed in a second. You tried to calm him down around this couple - it was the first love and it sure as hell was an intense one. You knew that these two were having make-out sessions behind the closed door... But were you two, you and Hop, any different when you met? No. You were kissing the living hell out of each other when any occasion came by, even after you moved back with him again, and since you were both adults, you even fucked every time and on every place, you got the chance to fuck on.

You were just like them - even at that time. But Jim was able to see incredible differences between you and him and Michael, as he called him, and Jane. He wasnt giving them any actual space, so there was no wonder, why Mike thought that Hopper is an old, insane bastard. You and Mike got along since you were normal when put in his words, and let them close the door. You built bridges of trust between you, Mike and Eleven and as long as you trusted them that they won't do anything insane, you let them have their time.

"Okay. That's it. That's it." - Hopper muttered out and got up, walking to the door. You tried to stop him from basically storming into the room, but it was too late. - "This door won't be closed as long as I'm in the house, do you both understand? Three inches at a minimum." - Jim told them with a pretty damn scary face as he showed them how to do it. When he got a nod from both Mike and Eleven, he left them be, still checking the door.

"You're too paranoid, Jim, I'm telling you." - You whispered once he sat down next to you again, cuddling you closer again. - "They're just kids." - You smiled and kissed his cheek, concentrating on the movie again. But Hopper was still very cautious about these two - his eyes were turning into their direction all the time, he was checking what they were doing until the very moment when Mike had to leave.

Over time, when Hopper had enough of constantly opening the door and checking on these two, you let the gang wonder around Hawkins with El, taking hikes in the woods and around the city. Sometimes they went to chill at the old sawmill near the town, but the all-time favorite was the hill about five miles from the city. They hanged there most of the time when spring and weather came.

You also did your best to spend time with Hopper, sometimes taking him for dinner at your favorite Spanish restaurant, sometimes you went for a walk too. But your favorite thing to do was still just hanging out with him at El. Of course, your mom made you visit them at least once a week. She wasnt too good at handling having both her children gone - both of them for college. Even Aiden had a girlfriend and sometimes, you just all went to their household to grill something and to chat. You loved Lena and you couldn't believe that she’s real. Your small bro was manning up rather quickly.

It was so weird since you could say when he and Steve ran naked around the swimming pool and where did he fell from his bike, telling Lena everything in the process, embarrassing the living shit out of Aiden. Naturally, she was first rather surprised about you dating such an older man, but as the time passed by, she got used to that tough guy and his douche jokes.

And Eleven had to say that she had everything she had ever dreamt of in the lab - parents, a family, a boyfriend, and friends. She even wasnt tugged in as a little girl anymore, she was going to bed on her will, with you kissing her whole face with laughter, hugging her tight every time. Her life couldn't be better. She especially loved when you and Jim didn't know she's watching and you put the gramophone on in the night, quietly, usually playing Sam Cooke or Ben E. King to dance in the living room. Jim was always making you laugh, he spun you around, whispered something to your ear, making you biting your lip as you smacked his shoulder - but for Eleven it was of sing that she can count on you.

But then, summer came by. You hadn't got any idea of why it was so weird. Eleven asked you if she can stay at Max’s on the fourth of July and even if you thought you’d celebrate it together, you let her have her time. You didn't have any idea of what was going on when Hopper suddenly disappeared without letting behind any message. Nobody gave you a clue that there are Russians set loose in and under Hawkins and that there is a fucking D&D monster who was possessing people with the help of Max’s brother himself.

On day two of loneliness, that was the fourth of July precisely, you had enough - you left to your moms and stayed there, waiting for anything. A call, a sign, for one of them showing up. But there was nothing. So you left for the shift that day - and that was where everything was set in motion without anyone of you normal people knowing.

#jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x reader #james jim hopper #hopper stranger things #eleven #eleven hopper #eleven stranger things #eleven ives #mike wheeler #the kids gang #joyce byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #oh dear god

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