#but it’s still presented as a celebration where everyone is carefree and happy now that Loki is gone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beauty-and-passion · 3 years

Text

What Eurovision 2021 taught us

1. That a nice, enjoyable show was possible (even if 4 presenters are still too much)

Of course nothing can beat Love Love Peace Peace (even if Ja Ja Ding Dong does its best), but this year's intermissions were very enjoyable.

We expected something flashy and over the top because hey, The Netherlands. Sex, drugs, gays and all that jazz.

But instead Covid surprised us. And then The Netherlands surprised us even more, by making a very enjoyable show, despite the restrictions. My personal favourites were:

The water intermission of the first semi-final. I loved the mixed feelings, how water is both scary and respected, for being such a powerful, unstoppable force.

The rooftop concerts during the final. Social distancing? Sure, no problem, let's make the past winners sing on top of some roofs all over Rotterdam. That was pure genius, I loved it so much.

On the other hand, the presenters were basically all useless. We could've had just two of them instead of four. But hey, at least they weren't as cringy as the three scary ukranians from 2017 or the useless four ladies from Portugal. The true highlights of the show were the intermissions, the guests and especially the songs themselves and this is perfectly good for me.

________________________

2. That we can live in a world without boring ass ballads

I’ve never been so proud of the Eurovision public, especially during the second semifinal: that evening was PACKED with ballads. Boring ballad after boring ballad, with just a couple more funny songs in between.

The ballads were all left behind. Even the two Amen. And I love the irony we chose El Diablo and the finnish band for the final, but no Amen. No saints allowed, only the norwegian angel. As it always should be.

And so we had the best final I've seen since I started following Eurovision in 2014. Catchy songs, dance songs, upbeat songs. And power ballads. Yes, ballads can still have a place, but only if they're good.

Because yes, Switzerland and France were good. Very good. Just not as good as the ones the public wanted.

________________________

3. That we want Eurovision, not Englishvision

Every year, the same message blasts from all Europeans: send a song in your native language. This show is supposed to make other people from Europe (and the rest of the world) to know more about your own country, to enjoy its rhythm and to listen to something we don't usually hear. So why waste this huge opportunity, to bring a generic song in English?

Because the English song wins. Because we all understand English, so English has more chances.

Flash news: GUESS WHO WON THIS YEAR. No, it’s not the generic English song.

The public has been crystal clear, the final poll is even clearer: the top five includes an italian song, an ukraine song, two french songs and only one english song. We want different styles and rhythms, we want to listen to Europe.

So I want to give my full thank you to:

Albania: amazing song, great voice, wonderful language. Do it again.

Serbia: these ladies are fantastic, their song is great and they sang it in their language so I love them

Switzerland: thank you for leaving English to the side to give us some good french

Spain: the song wasn't as good as Universo, but it was in sexy spanish, so thank you for using it almost every year

Danemark: the song was terrible, but it was in your language and this alone deserves everything

France: I know we all make fun of you for being France, but your language is perfect for songs, so thank you for always using it

Ukraine: take note, Ukraine, because Europe is madly in love with your language and your rhythm

Italy: our language is beautiful, so thank you for delivering every year

While my biggest biases go to:

Greece: a generic pop song with no balkan rhythm and no greek either? An absolute shame, greek should always be used for songs.

Russia: russian language is very melodious and yes, we got something this year, but what about bringing a full russian song? We want it!

Germany: I may sound crazy, but I honestly think german language is good for songs. It's not like the mediterranean languages, but it still works. So please, do not be scared and show what you can do with it!

Scandinavian countries: why do you never want to bring your own language? Do it, don't be scared! Yes, Sweden, I'm talking with you: you still never tried to bring something in swedish, so do it.

________________________

4. That we don't want Americans to play with us

For reasons we still have to understand, Flo Rida was competing this year. And he was competing for San Marino, the smallest European country.

I'm pretty sure they took some time to explain to him what was going on, where he was, where San Marino is, wtf was happening, why there were sexy italians and ukranian witches and a norwegian angel and loads of beautiful women everywhere.

And I loved how we all send memes about this, about ahahah why is Flo Rida here, what if San Marino wins where would they host Eurovision, all while enjoying an actual catchy song.

And then, in the end, Flo Rida basically disappeared. Who remembers Flo Rida, when we got Ukraine, Italy, Finland, Iceland, and the UK? And Germany being wholesome? And the love story between Norway and Azerbaijan? We collectively forgot about him and I think it's very sexy from Europe to just say "nope" and push America away, even if for just one week.

And this isn't the first time: we basically showed Madonna in a corner in 2019, thanks to Mans, Eleni, Verka and Conchita. Once again, Europeans knows what they want: we don't want Americans. Australia can because they're like that little brother we took under our wing for no reason and now it's part of us. But not Americans.

The rest of the year is all yours, but one week is ours.

________________________

5. That we can lose like bosses

This year, the voting results have been absolutely insane and FOUR COUNTRIES got zero points from the public, while the UK got both zero points from the public AND the jury.

Don't get me wrong, the song was bad. And yes, Brexit played a role in this. And yes, hating England is Europe’s favourite sport.

But can we please all take a moment and appreciate how James Newman reacted? The public gave him a round of applause and he celebrated this achievement like a boss.

And he had all the reasons! He achieved something incredible, he unlocked something that this new voting system was supposed to never lead to. But he did it. So hats off to you, my boy: My Last Breath was better.

Germany is also used to the bottom of the chart, but this year I really thought Jendrik could have a chance to achieve a higher position. The song was funny, carefree, lively, the hand costume was the kind of trash we need and the message was nice as well. But he still got 3 points.

Despite that, Jendrik celebrated like a maniac and seeing his this happy made me happy as well. I really wish him the best.

________________________

6. That FUCK YOU JURY

Again, same message every year: the jury vote should be eliminated. It's a fucking farce and their votes have nothing to do with what the public want.

The jury focuses on the voices, except when they don't, and clearly giving points to your neighbours is because you like the song, not because they're your neighbours.

I usually make fun of Greece and Cyprus showing eternal love to each other, by giving 12 points to each other every year, but this time, it sounded even more stupid than usual. It really looked like a farce. Why should we see this farce? Why can't we just choose what the public wants? So at least we would blame ourselves for our shitty musical tastes.

Even if I'm pretty sure we all have great musical tastes. Let's not forget that in 2019 the public's winner was Norway, with a song that mixed english, a catchy rhythm and an amazing part in yoik language. Arcade is good as well, but we cannot deny the norwegian entry was a lot more interesting.

And this year, the public's taste was flawless:

Look at this beauty: italian glam rock, ukranian techno folk, french powerful ballad, finnish hard rock and whatever that thing was with Iceland.

There's variety, there's everything for everyone. And there are native languages. Italian, Ukranian, and French on top three, followed by English.

Moral of the story: the public is great and the jury should be abolished forever.

________________________

7. That Ukranian technofolk is all we needed in our lives

I didn’t see enough love for Go_A, so as italian, I think it's my sworn duty to give my appreciation to them and their amazing entry, because this band is awesome and Shum is currently on top of the Spotify top 50 - as it should be, because everyone should listen to it and join this slavic rave party.

I already liked their entry for 2020, Solovey. But I also liked My Last Breath from the UK and Universo from Spain. And this year they brought two of the worst songs. So I was very wary of Go_A.

But Shum is an absolute blast. Katerina Pavlenko's voice is unique and the song is even more, because based on ukranian folklore and traditional dances to summon the spirit of spring. They managed to teach something to all Europe in a three minute song and I think that’s incredibly sexy of them.

And so, I searched for other songs and OMG, I don’t know how it’s possible, but they are all great. Rano-Ranenko, Zhalmenina, Tanula, they all are perfect and I’m in love with this band.

And if all of this is not enough, THEY DID A COVER OF DANCING LASHA TUMBAI. The most iconic Eurovision song, sang by our god Verka. And this is the coolest, most badass cover ever in the whole universe. Please listen to it HERE everyone needs to hear this.

So thank you, Ukraine, for giving us Go_A. We all had a small empty place in our hearts and this place has ben perfectly filled by them.

And yif you think you don’t need ukranian technofolk, is only because you still haven’t listened to it. Please listen and enjoy Shum. You’re welcome.

youtube

________________________

8. That rock and roll never dies (and Italy’s well deserved victory)

The last time Italy won was in 19-fucking-90. 31 years ago. I was just born.

And now, they finally won again. And what a song! Despite being italian, I've never listened to Maneskin before, but oh damn, this song is good. Not all their songs are, but this one is. And also Morirò da re.

Their show was perfect as well. This post is really eye-opening about how well they put on their show. The use of the stage, the movements, everything has been part of a great performance, even their clothes. Damiano's voice never faltered, despite having an entire continent watching him. They handled the stage like bosses, despite being only in their twenties. And they gave us some good fucking rock.

And so the public said a loud "FUCK YOU" to the jury and chose its winners. The sassy, sexy italians.

And yes, I know that there has been a lot of petty polemics because those youngsters are having drugs!1!! as if they were a bunch of idiots who used drugs on international TV, with their manager sitting next to them.

Of course it was a pointless accusation and honestly I don't care if some people are sore losers. The drug results were negative anyway, what a shocker.

What we should truly think about is how strong the Maneskin's bladders are, because they spent the whole evening of the final drinking the entire alcohol supply of the Eurovision and, at the end, they were still happy and cool. Hats off to you, you sexy people.

This man is just iconic, why did I miss him before.

Also, have some more Maneskin. You know, as a treat.

youtube

________________________

9. That solidarity and wholesomeness are the biggest winners

It's just beautiful to see these nice people, from all over Europe, bonding, having fun, taking photos together and being friends.

The true winner of this, is probably Norway: Tix wanted to have a good time and he had a good time. The video of him vibing with Ukraine and Germany while listening Hard Rock Hallelujah is the best (HERE). His love story with Efendi from Azerbaijan is even better (please, check the video on his youtube channel, it's hilarious). I don't like his song, but he's a great guy and deserves everything.

The italian and finnish rock relationship is also great. Maneskin and Dark Sides found each other, considering they were the only two rock bands in the competition, so mutual appreciation was inevitable.

But Damiano is also a man of culture and he appreciates Ukraine's entry. And Ukraine appreciates both Finland and Italy. Is this what world peace looks like? Because I love it.

________________________

10. That Italians will be Europe's clowns again (and you're all allowed to make fun of us)

Beware, Europe: we Italians are messy and chaotic, our presenters don’t know a single word in English, we are homoerotic AND homophobic at the same time, our musical competitions are so fucking sloooow... let’s say next year’s Eurovision is going to be interesting.

And yes, you’re allowed to make fun of us. We don’t care, we won, so we deserve to be Europe’s clowns once again.

And I don’t know who the presenters will be (my bets are on everyone’s favourites: Fiorello, Amadeus and Malgioglio), I don’t know how we will ridicule ourselves once again, I don’t know where will we find the money to put on the show, I don’t know how ungodly long it will be... but I know that Mans Zelmerlow will be part of it. This man loves Eurovision just like all of us, so I can already see him packing his suitcase and planning his flight to Italy. Come to us, Mans, we will wait for you. We actually need an English presenter, so if you have nothing else to do...

323 notes · View notes

capitainelevi · 3 years

Text

For @pufferssss, happy late birthday!! ❤️

Waiting for sunrise

Words: 2968

The first and last time Levi visits Petra`s grave.

Levi arranged his cravat again, self-conscious at the thought of visiting her for the first time. He stood frozen in place, with a bouquet of orange lilies in his hand. Her favorite flowers. Just a mere coincidence, not an effort on his part, of course. He never imagined he would visit her here so early on. Staring at the newly carved headstone, he tried to set aside the nagging thought that the earth underneath it only held an empty coffin.

What should he say to her?

“Your dad came to see me after the mission, and I had to tell him that I don`t even have a body to bring back home to him”?

“I failed in getting justice for you and the guys”?

“I miss your tea”?

The only words he could spurt out were “Hi, Ral.”

He groaned at his awkwardness and settled on presenting her with the flowers he chose for her. He could feel his hands getting sweaty from anxiousness, much to his confusion. He had nothing to be nervous about. It was just Petra in front of him. His subordinate. Petra, who fought by his side for years. Who swore to devote her life to him. Just his Petra.

Levi sat on the ground next to the gravestone, unconcerned about the dirt he would have to clean out of his clothes at the end of the day. “I hope you can hear me, wherever you are. I like to think you`re listening.” He never spent much time concerning himself with death and the life that supposedly followed it, but ever since losing them as well, he found himself wishing they were happy. He knew that those brats would be wasting the rest they earned to look over him, no matter how much he objected.

“I hope you like the spot I chose for you. It`s sunny, but you also get some shade from the tree. I thought you`d like listening to birds singing." On their free days, he could always spot Petra with a book on her lap, under the shade of the oak tree in their yard. He never dared to bother her, worried he would disturb the angelic aura of the image, content with being fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of it. He never dared get so close to the sun.

"I`m going to bring some flowers we can plant next time I visit. I know you had a green thumb.” Levi omitted in letting her know it only took a month for the plant in his office that she cared for years to wither away in his care. Or maybe it just knew Petra would never be back.

Levi closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the quietness around him and the feeling of the afternoon sky on his skin, considering if someone would bother him if he moved to the tree trunk to nap. He craved some peace.

“I`m sorry I didn`t get to come earlier. You missed a real shit show in Sina.” He took a glance at his wounded leg and sighed. “It`s not as bad as it looks, no need to mother me.”

Without raising his eyes from the ground in front of him, Levi admitted to her in a hoarse voice- “I kept calling out orders for you, and Erwin had to remind me that you`re not here anymore. Like I could ever fucking forget.”

Despite the emptiness in his chest, he went on- “Eren misses you. I really wish you could help me manage that brat. You always knew what to say to him. Hange misses you. I… everyone misses you.” They left a hole behind that he doubted he would ever patch.

Levi cleaned off some dust from her headstone before promising her he would be back as soon as he could.

As promised, the second time Levi visited her, he got her some daisies to plant next to her resting place. After wiping his hands clean on a rag, Levi sat down against the tree trunk to admire his work. He was sure Petra would be proud of the progress he made regarding gardening. He had even gotten a new plant to replace the one on his desk.

“Tch, not talkative today, are we? That`s alright, you know I always talk a lot.”

Visiting her calmed his restless spirit. His anxiety over the plan, his worry over Erwin`s wellbeing, his longing to have his old squad by his side again, they were all pilling up for the last few days. Levi found himself losing even more sleep lately. But he would never tell her that since it would most likely end in another one of her scoldings.

“You`re missing it, the final push. The brat`s finally going to do it, he`s going to seal the Wall.” Levi hoped that they would be able to carry out the mission. That his squad`s sacrifice to keep Eren alive would not have been in vain.

“You`re not being fair, are you? You already know what we will find in the basement, and yet you keep it all to yourself. Tch, be like that.” Would it all be worth it? The pain, the countless sacrifices, and the lives lost along the way? He wished Petra could answer that for him.

He never wanted to upset her, but Petra always encouraged him to let others help him carry the burden. Levi took a deep breath before speaking again- “I think Eren misses you. He`s been going on about how he wants to visit you again. Bring you flowers. To help me maintain this place clean." Levi rolled his eyes again and the memory. "Like I would ever need his help with that.”

Levi took the ribbon out of his pocket and started fiddling with it, ignoring the slight pang of guilt at how he came into its possession.

“I hope you won`t mind I took that.” The first night he spent without them, Levi found himself roaming the empty corridors of the castle. When his steps took him in front of Petra`s door, the urge to hold on to something physical to remember her overtook his sense of shame. He was aware that her belongings would go back to her parents in the next few days, but he hoped the red ribbon Petra used to tie her hair with would not be missed.

“I took your patch at first. I was going to keep it in my breast pocket. To have a reminder of your sacrifice. But when I saw that kid eaten up by guilt, I knew what I had to do. I knew what you would have wanted me to do with it.” He had no regrets about that. It was the perfect way to honor the kindest soldier the Survey Corps ever had.

When the light began to fade, Levi got up from his spot and left without saying another word to Petra. He did not want to say goodbye to her. Levi felt no need for it since death could be in his cards the next day. And he could get to see her again sooner than he thought.

The third time Levi visited her, it was not with a flower bouquet in his hand but with a bottle of cheap alcohol he found on Moblit`s desk. That night, Levi allowed grief to consume him.

"Erwin died. But I have a feeling you know that already, don`t you?" Levi wiped his nose with the back on his hand, too absorbed in his anger to even care about the disgusting habit.

"Are you mad at him? Are you mad that he chose to sacrifice your life?"

But only silence greeted him.

"Are you mad that I didn`t even question it?"

No answer again. The rage burning inside him overtook him, and Levi smashed the bottle against the headstone.

"Shit. I`m sorry, I shouldn`t have done that." Levi crouched down and collected the pieces of the bottle into his handkerchief. The grief, the anger, and now the shame for denigrating her place of rest were eating him alive.

"We found out the truth, you know? It`s a shitty world out there, Ral. But I have a feeling not even that would have cut off your wings."

Levi found himself craving touch. Her touch. And for the first time in his life, he felt the need to be comforted. He smiled to himself bitterly. How cruel must the deity who created him be for making him desire the impossible?

The fourth time Levi visited her, he brought a special gift for her. A small, odd thing that Armin called seashell.

“We saw the sea today. Just a big old pile of saltwater. But you would have loved it.”

Seeing the brats play in the water with carefree smiles on their face made him yearn for a glimpse of amber hair in the picture. He missed them all dearly.

“I would have to pull you out of it by the collar of your shirt, I bet.” For as devoted and strict as she was, Petra always seemed to cause him distress. Not that he minded it, of course. Levi found himself wishing to hear her timid knocks on his door again, even in the middle of the night. He longed for those times, where she shyly approached him after needing his help in whatever problem she found herself stuck in again.

While that was not his intention when he first came to her, his heart was heavy with words he never said to her. "The world hates us, Ral." He could never imagine how someone would ever detest someone as kind as Petra just for the blood running in her veins. But if he had to be true to himself, a part of him hated Petra as well.

"Maybe I hate you too."

Petra broke his promises to him, after all. Two years ago, when death was imminent on an expedition, and Petra put down her swords in acceptance, Levi fought with her. He made her promise she would make it to the end. That she would be by his side the day they kill the last titan.

"Do you remember your promises to me? Such bullshit. Never thought you were a liar, Petra."

But Levi knew she would have never left him had she had a choice. That she would have fought for even just a second more by his side. But it never dulled the pain of losing her.

With a heavy heart, Levi said his goodbye for the evening, guilty for blaming her for things out of her control.

The fifth time Levi visited her, it was snowing outside.

It was always a wonder how someone radiating light and warmth could be a winter child. But Levi was sure he memorized the date right. It was an important one for him, after all. Levi fought to make sure he had enough time to get ready for celebrating her birthday. She deserved nothing more than a perfect day. Hange had been more than understanding, the wound left by losing Moblit still fresh in their heart.

Levi put the bouquet of twenty-two golden roses on the frozen ground. “Happy birthday. Twenty-two, huh? You`re turning into an old woman, Ral.” The irony of his words made a slight pang of guilt rise in his chest. The passing of time would never touch her again.

“I have your favorite”- he said, lightly shaking the box containing a small vanilla cake. Sugar was a rarity, but getting a cake was an unspoken rule in his squad. Their lives were too short to worry about the money. The first thing Levi noticed about Petra was the faint flower smell emanating from her. The first thing after setting his eyes on her clean nails, of course. On her first birthday that they celebrated as a squad, Levi gifted Petra a bottle of scented body lotion. And some high-quality cleaning rags, of course. But she did not pay attention to that. She and the rest of the Survey Corps never knew how to appreciate the finer things in life. But Levi did not miss the way her face lit up when he noticed something she enjoyed.

“I could never understand your sweet tooth, but today, I`m going to have a slice of cake.” Levi always refrained from indulging in this vice. Having grown unaccustomed to sugar, the idea of sweetness was unappealing to him. He always felt bad for disappointing her each year when she sat in front of him, with a small piece of cake she had cut for him. “Or two slices. Two is more appropriate anyway. If I get cavities, it`s on your ass.”

The ground was too cold for him to sit down on, and Levi made a mental note to build a small bench close to her headstone. He opened the box and eyed the cake wearily, considering if he should change his mind. He took a small bite of the cake, and he almost choked on it. “Oi, this is so damn sweet. How the fuck could you eat so much of it?” But it did not stop him from finishing his slice.

Levi expected to find some flowers lying in the snow or at least some tracks leading up to her grave.

“Does your old man still come around? I`ve never crossed paths with him since the expedition.” Sometimes, when he closed his eyes at night, he could still recall Mr. Ral`s pained expression when he realized there was no one left for him to wait for.

“Maybe it`s for the best. I bet he doesn`t want to see me again.” To see the face of the man who was supposed to protect his daughter. The face of the man his daughter wanted to devote her life to. The man who could not even bring him a body home to bury.

“I`m a shit. Ruining your birthday with talk like this.” Levi was never good at this. In his spot, Eld would have teased Petra about her first expedition. Tell her how now that she was a big girl, she ought to refrain from soiling herself again. Petra would turn red from embarrassment and elbow Eld in the ribs. Gunther would point out that despite their age, they are still children. And proceed with teasing Petra himself. Oluo would try to defend Petra`s honor to gain her attention, which would make him the target instead. Levi gave a small smile at the thoughts. He missed them dearly, more than he would ever care to admit.

Levi crouched down and cleared the layer of snow covering her headstone. He ran his finger alongside the letters of her name, wishing he would have had more opportunities to write it down.

“Happy birthday again, brat.”

The last time he visited her, Levi had company. Gabi and Falco did not give it another thought before offering to help him see her again before they would all leave for a new life. A better life, he hoped. But without her by his side, it was never going to be perfect. Gabi set down the flowers before they gave him privacy. While they never asked him about who she was, they knew Levi must have cared for her a great deal.

"Hi, brat. It`s been a while."

He had so much to say to her, and yet, he did not know where to start. A part of him expected to join her during the last battle, but fate always had something new in store for him. Levi was uncertain if it was luck by his side or a curse to watch everyone he ever cared about die. But life was looking brighter, and Levi promised himself he would never lose anyone again.

"Are Hange and Erwin with you now? How about the guys?" He wished for nothing more than to be there by their side. But Levi knew they would never forgive him if he did not try to live the remainder of his life to the fullest. And for them, he would try.

"Does Oluo still bite his tongue? Did he try to flirt with you again? Is Eld still teasing you? Does Gunther still treat you as a little sister?" Levi chuckled at the memory of their antics. He learned the hard way that he never appreciated them enough before he lost them.

"I hope there is an afterlife. I hope it`s peaceful. You all deserve it. Such a shitty end..." He closed his eyes and sighed at the words coming out of his mouth. "I`m sorry, I didn`t mean it. But you already knew that. I was always an open book to you."

Levi felt guilty for leaving the home they bled for behind, but if he were truthful, it had not felt like home to him for years. With no one left by his side, nothing was keeping him in Paradise anymore. While neither of them voiced it out, he had dreamed of a future with Petra by his side. And for her, he would try to live a long and happy life. Before he got to be with her.

"I`m sorry... for the future I never got to offer you. The one you deserved. I`m sorry for the house I never got to build for us, for the vows we never got to take, for the brats that will never play in my backyard." Levi knew Petra would encourage him to find love, but he never would again. He could never imagine a future by someone else`s side.

Levi glanced back at her grave for one last time before he set out for the remainder of his life- "I`ll see you soon. Wait for me."

ao3

#petra ral #rivetra #rivetra fanfiction #rivetra fanfic #my writing

41 notes · View notes

onecanonlife · 3 years

Text

In which Tommy travels back in time and tries to prevent a nightmare from happening to everyone he knows. Everyone else, meanwhile, is highly concerned.

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first part) (previous part) (next part)

(word count: 3,960)

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

Part Ten: Wilbur II

Wilbur wakes the morning of the election as President of L’Manberg, and he ends the evening of the election as President of L’Manberg, voted back into office by due democratic process.

There are things in between, of course. He reads out the results for all the SMP members to hear, as well as for those who have been following the event from different servers. He makes a speech, promises protection and safety for his citizens, promises renewed growth and prosperity and above all else, freedom from tyranny. He makes a good case for it all, he’s fairly sure, though he forgets the words that he speaks as soon as he leaves his podium.

There’s a bit of a celebration, after. Impromptu, unplanned, but those are the best kind. They all pitch in, scrounge up food and drink and games to play for when they get a bit tipsy, and it’s good.

He smiles through it.

He smiles when Tubbo claps him on the back, hooting and hollering. He smiles when Niki runs up to him and throws her arms around him in an embrace, even though she was running against him. He smiles when Eret sidles up to him, murmuring congratulations and briefly pressing his hand. He even smiles when a few citizens of the Greater SMP come to join in, Sapnap and Punz and Ponk and Karl. He smiles and smiles and smiles, and why shouldn’t he smile?

This is what he wanted. To know that his people continue to have faith in him, that they still believe him best for the job. To hold on to power, but to do it the right way. To be given full permission to assure the safety and freedom of those he loves, and the land that he has made.

The smile only slips twice.

Once: meeting Fundy’s eyes across the way. Fundy breaks his gaze just as quickly, glancing to the side, and he doesn’t come to speak with him. He’s not sure what to do about that. He’s not so blind as to not notice the tension that’s sprung into place between them lately, though he still can’t ascertain its origin. And it’s only gotten worse now, of course—but what did Fundy expect, that he would just let him commit voter fraud? He’s disappointed in his actions, and he can’t disguise that. Shouldn’t have to disguise that, because Fundy ought to know that wasn’t the right thing to do. But that means that his son steers clear of him. And he’ll admit that it hurts. Both for that, and for the fact that Fundy would do such a thing in the first place.

So the smile slips, when no one is looking.

But that is once, and twice comes now: Tommy bounding up to him, grin bright and wild, eyes shining with a light that he hasn’t seen there in—too long. Far, far too long. That light has been present all day, ever since he stepped up to the podium and announced the results, and Tommy let out a whoop and a holler and pumped his fist into the air like he was trying to punch the daylight from the sky, and it was so very Tommy that in that moment, he could feel nothing but relief. In general, Tommy’s seemed very relaxed. Celebratory, jubilant. As he should be.

And now, here he is, beaming, staring him in the face, gripping his arms. Eyes shining.

“How we feeling, big man?” he asks, loud and carefree, and it’s obvious from the way that he asks that he expects a certain kind of answer. Wilbur is more than happy to give it to him. He reaches out to ruffle his hair, and Tommy ducks away, but even that scowl doesn’t last for long.

“I’m on top of the world,” he says, and feels his own smile widen. For the first time in a while, he can look at Tommy and not feel pressing worry, not feel a tightness in his chest and a certainty in his bones that something is very, very wrong, that something has happened, and that in some way, he has failed. “We fucking did it, man.”

“We sure fucking did!” Tommy crows. “You and me, best fucking—best fucking day ever. We’re gonna make sure that L’Manberg’s the best country in the literal history of everything. And you’ll be the best president.”

“Of course I will,” he says. “That’s why they’ve elected me.”

Tommy nods sagely. Still grinning. Still bright-eyed. “It’s all going to be alright,” he says, voice lowering just a little. He sounds so very sincere. “Everything’s actually gonna be alright. You’re gonna do so great. You’re gonna do great, right?”

Of course he will. He will not settle for anything less. This duty has been entrusted to him once again, and he will not let his city fail, nor his people fall. He is the one they look to. He built this nation, and he must protect it. He will be great. He has more than just his own hopes riding on his back, and anything less than greatness is unacceptable, both for his own sake and for that of everyone else, for his own legacy and for the seeds planted in the present.

“We’re gonna do great,” he says. “You and I, and all of us.”

“Hell yeah,” Tommy says, and glances around him, at the celebration, still under full swing. Quackity has somehow obtained a stripper pole, and both Karl and Sapnap are looking on in great interest as he displays his talents in that area. Wilbur finds himself watching for a moment too long before tearing his gaze away. But Tommy doesn’t pay mind to any of that—which is good, because he is a child, a little baby man, and maybe he should go over to Quackity and talk about him toning it down, actually, while the minors are here—and instead brings his focus back around to him again.

“They all love you man, y’know?” Tommy says, voice going softer still. He finds his own expression gentling to match.

“They love this,” he agrees. “They love L’Manberg.”

“Because what’s not to love?” Tommy says, nodding in satisfaction. “Really, though, man. You’re gonna be alright. You’re gonna do great. No reason to worry about anything, y’know?”

“Okay, that’s a little concerning, coming from you,” he says. “Are there any shenanigans I should know about?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tommy says, swatting at his arm. “I’m gonna go find where Tubbo got off to. But just, have a good night, yeah, Wil? You’ve really earned it. Future’s looking up.”

“I will,” he says. “And you too, Tommy, you’ve earned this just as much as I have. Maybe even more. Go have fun.” He pauses. “And if there do happen to be any shenanigans, let me know, would you? It’s been a while since I took part in any good old-fashioned shenanigans.”

Tommy casts him one last grin, brilliant as any sunrise he’s seen. And then, he’s off, weaving through everyone else. It’s good, that he’s happy. It’s been so long since he’s seemed truly happy. It gives Wilbur hope. Whatever damage was done to him that night, when he chose to give up his discs, maybe he really will bounce back. And he’s noticed that he and Tubbo have been closer again, so maybe that will help, too. Tommy will be okay.

Then, a wave of exhaustion hits him, apparently out of nowhere, and his smile slips.

He brings it up again in the next moment. But the fatigue remains—and he supposes it makes sense. It’s been a long, rather stressful day. Perhaps it’s time he turned it in.

Niki’s the first one he finds, and she smiles at his approach. There is still an air of tension about her—lingering frustration, he imagines, at the stunt Fundy tried to pull. He believes her when she says she was unaware. But she doesn’t seem to have any qualms about him, thank goodness, because he bears her no ill will for the incident. Or even Fundy—he is disappointed to be sure, but he doesn’t love his son any less. Nothing at all could make that happen. Perhaps he ought to make sure Fundy knows that.

Later, though. When they’ve both cooled down a bit.

“Hey, Wil,” she says. “Good party, huh?”

“It is,” he says. “I’m sort of beat, though, so I think I might go hit the hay, as it were. Just wanted to tell someone before I left, in case anyone wondered.”

“Okay,” she says, and her eyes pinch around the edges a little bit. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

She nods. “It’s been a long day,” she says, echoing his thoughts. “I’ll let everyone know, if they ask.” Her smile returns, full force, and she steps forward and takes his hand in hers. “Really, though, congratulations. I’m really proud of you. Anyone can see how much you care about this place, and that’s why they want you to keep leading it.”

His mouth has, unaccountably, gone slightly dry. “I do care,” he says. “But we all do. I mean, you literally made our flag. I don’t think I’ve told you enough how cool that is.”

“I wanted to,” she says simply, though she’s obviously pleased. “You don’t have to thank me for it. Every country should have a flag.”

“And every country should have someone who cares enough to sew it,” he says. “I’m glad it was you.”

“And I’m glad that this is you,” Niki replies, making a gesture toward the festivities around them, and the empty stage over to the side. Her eyes sharpen. “Even if I kind of wanted to be vice president. But you’re a good leader, Wilbur, and you’re a good man. A good friend. You deserve this. So go get some sleep, alright? Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, saluting, and she rolls her eyes, pushing him away.

“Go on,” she insists, but there is laughter in her voice and a crinkle at the corners of her eyes, and she looks happy, too. Everyone looks very happy. Even Fundy seems to be involved in things by now, and Quackity, his fiercest competition, appears to be enjoying himself.

Everyone is happy. So is he. There’s no reason at all for him not to be.

He tells himself that he’s going to go get some sleep, but his feet take him back to his office, instead. It’s empty, cast in a dim haze until he switches on the light, and just like that, the darkness is gone. His eyes flit across his desk, his chair, his shelves, all the paperwork that he’s definitely going to have to deal with, now that he knows for sure that he will continue to lead. He also has a potted plant, though he can’t quite recall who gave it to him. Might have been Tubbo, but he’s not sure.

He doesn’t sit. He goes to the window, presses himself up against it close enough to see the outside rather than his own reflection in the glass. Torchlight flickers, illuminating the country before him, and the walls are looming giants in the deepening night. He can see the cluster of lights where the others are, too, and he can see their dancing shadows, glimpses of their faces, far away echoes of their laughter.

Maybe he ought to go back. Some part of him wants to. He’s not sure why he’s holding himself away.

It’s probably because he’s tired. Because he is. Tired. Very tired.

It has been a long day.

He watches for a moment longer, and then closes his curtains, shutting out the world beyond this room. He turns to his desk, then, and his paperwork, though he’s loath to actually work on anything tonight, despite the fact that there’s a million things he could be doing. Drafting a formal missive to Dream, for instance, in light of his official election to power. Ensuring continued good standings between their nations—because as little as he likes the man, he’s not going to provoke him again, if it can be helped.

Especially not with Tommy—the way that he is. Not until he’s gotten to the bottom of that, and probably not even after.

So, he should write to Dream. He should also write to Phil. Tell him about what’s been going on. He’s been considering asking for advice on the whole Tommy situation, actually—Phil’s old as balls, so maybe he might know what to do, or even what this could be about. It’s a long shot, of course, but it’s worth a try.

Except he doesn’t particularly want to do either of those things. Not at the moment. But then, that doesn’t leave him with a whole lot of options, so why did he come here in the first place if he didn’t intend to do something? He ought to go to bed, like he said he would.

But then—

“Hey, Wilbur,” Quackity says, and he looks up, blinking. Quackity’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. Somewhere along the line, he’s regained his clothes. “Knock, knock.”

“Quackity,” he says. “Good to see you. Here, come in, pull up a chair.”

Quackity quirks a brow, but that seems to be all the invitation he needs. He all but saunters in, grabbing one of the chairs and tugging it right up against the desk.

“I actually did want to speak with you at some point,” he continues.

“Then this works out, doesn’t it?” Quackity says. “I had the same idea. I figured we should clear the air or something like that. If it even needs clearing, I dunno. What do you think?”

“It certainly can’t hurt to talk,” he agrees.

“Right,” Quackity says. “Well, I guess I should start off by saying good job. Congrats on winning.” He smiles, and there’s something sharp in it, something of a challenge. Wilbur can’t say that he hates it; it’s good to be challenged, every now and then. And now, there’s less danger in it, his position secure. “Though I really gave you a run for your money, didn’t I? And Jack, of course.”

Jack’s name is added as an afterthought. He’s always had the impression that Quackity would rather have picked someone else for his running mate. But he left it fairly late, and by the time he decided that he definitely wanted one, there weren’t many people left to choose from. Tubbo wouldn’t have joined him, and Eret stayed out of the whole affair, and in terms of L’Manberg citizens, that pretty much just left Jack Manifold.

He wonders who Quackity would have chosen, if he’d had free reign of the SMP. Somehow, he’s glad that didn’t happen. Good foresight, on Tommy’s part, to add that restriction. And a good idea in general, too.

“You did,” he says with a nod. “It was a good showing. You were the one I was worried about, to be honest with you. If anyone could have beaten me, it would have been you.”

“You’re damn right,” Quackity answers. “We got close. But no cigar, I guess. There’s always next time.”

Next time. Next time.

Right. Elections are a fairly regular thing. He’ll have to do this again.

Right, no, that’s—fine. It’s fine. And it wouldn’t be for a while yet, so he doesn’t even have to think about it right now.

“But I just wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings between us,” Quackity says. He leans back in his chair, tipping it so that only two legs rest on the floor, and he regards him. “I mean, I meant what I said on the campaign trail, and I still stand by it. I don’t know that you’re taking this country in the best direction, Wilbur. I don’t know that it’s not gonna—stagnate, under you, or that Dream won’t come up and declare war again. I meant all of that. But it’s not like I don’t like you as a person, and you’ve won fair and square, so I was hoping we could put our differences behind us. Let bygones be bygones and all that.”

He’s heard everything that Quackity has to say on the matter of his leadership, and hearing it all again is a bit—irritating. But the honesty is refreshing, was then and still is now, and he’d rather these things be said to his face than whispered behind his back.

And also, there’s the fact that it’s Quackity. It was Tommy who convinced him to let him join in the first place, but the man’s grown on him, he’ll confess.

“I would have trusted you to lead,” he admits, and meets Quackity’s gaze squarely. “I disagree with you on quite a few matters, but I believe that you have L’Manberg’s best interests at heart. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s all water under the bridge.”

He speaks nothing but the truth. Quackity is—not precisely the vision he has in mind for L’Manberg’s future. But he cares about this place, that much is obvious. So if Quackity had won, he would have bowed out gracefully, would have established himself some property and entered a graceful retirement, at—at peace. Surely at peace, all of his questions answered and his guidance unneeded. His person no longer required.

His stomach turns, a gut-churning combination of longing and revulsion flooding him, impacting him so intensely that it’s a half-second scramble to make sure that none of it shows on his face, to lock everything back down again, to be interpreted later or forgotten about, depending on his mood.

“That��s great to hear,” Quackity says. “Friends?”

Quackity sticks out his hand.

“Friends,” he agrees, and takes it.

“Fantastic,” Quackity says. “I guess that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.” He gestures broadly, lips twitching upward. “Niki said you were gonna get some sleep, so I’d do that before she finds out you’re not.”

He can’t help but laugh, and Quackity stands. “I’ll take that under consideration,” he says. “Good night, Quackity.”

“Night, Wilbur,” Quackity says, and turns to go. But then, he stops in the doorway, looking back. “I just gotta ask, though, why all of this? Why have an election at all? Why risk losing? If you wanted to stay in charge, why not just stay in charge? No one would’ve questioned you, but instead, you put on all of this. Just to keep a position you ended up keeping anyway.”

Ah. His mind blanks for a moment, because he doesn’t know how to describe to Quackity the fact that people were already questioning him, if he didn’t pick up on that. But surely, he must have; Quackity himself built his entire campaign around questioning him. His right to lead, his capability, his intentions. And those sentiments could not have come from nowhere.

To be honest, he’s not certain that he has the words to explain it to himself, either.

“I could ask the same of you,” he says, “in regards to your running.”

Quackity stands there for a moment. And then tilts his head.

“I think we both know the answer to that, Wilbur,” he says, and his next smile is a wry thing. “See you tomorrow.”

And then, he’s gone.

And Wilbur does know.

He is not blind to Quackity’s desire for power. His desire to do something good with it, to be sure—he’s never caught any malice in his seeking. But what he seeks is power, and there is no mistaking that. Sometimes, Wilbur looks in his eyes and sees a reflection of himself. Paler, different, slanted, but a reflection nonetheless. He has heard the siren’s call of ambition and heard it well, and he recognizes that in Quackity, and Quackity recognizes it in him.

But it’s not just about power. Not for him, anyway. Or rather, it is power, to be sure, but it’s the power to keep safe. To protect. To be free. And to build something great, something that will outlive him, something that will make him worthy of the looks in people’s eyes when they meet his. That’s what it was about. And that’s why the election mattered.

Though for a moment, he lets himself picture it: retirement. A house, with plenty of room. Time to spare, for everyone and everything. A guitar, finally tuned again. A warm summer’s day, and a crisp autumn’s evening. No pressure, few responsibilities, and an hour or several to sit under his own vine and fig tree.

But he doesn’t think he’s made for things like that, really.

And even besides, these idle speculations don’t matter. Quackity didn’t win, and he remains president of this nation. There will be no quiet retirement, not yet. There is so much work that he has to do, and he can feel all those future tasks piling on his shoulders, weights stacking on his skin, clinging like barnacles on a weathered, abandoned pier.

And it’s all alright, because it’s what he wants.

Without this, where would he stand? With himself, and with the others? They all look to him for a reason, so what would happen if that reason were gone?

No. Best not to let his mind wander down that path.

His ambitions are realized. The elections are over. His people are happy, and they still want him. They still believe he can do right by them. They are celebrating his victory even now. Tommy was smiling, and there was none of that strange, terrifying darkness in his gaze.

He has everything he wants.

He checks his communicator, idly. There’s a few messages from people on the server, those who aren’t at the party. Most are congratulatory. There’s Dream, asking for a meeting already, but he anticipated that. There’s even a few messages from people off-world, and he raises an eyebrow at those—inter-server communication costs a pretty penny, so he’s a bit surprised that Technoblade put the effort in to send a message that just says lame. Or maybe he shouldn’t be surprised at all. And Schlatt’s sent him some snarky congratulations, and he supposes he should answer him, since he went through the trouble. Though he’s not going to invite him, still, no matter how nice it might be to catch up. Not until he figures out what Tommy’s problem with him is, and whether it’s solvable.

But he types out a response to both, a quick Like you can talk, Potato Man to Techno and something a bit longer and properly sarcastic to Schlatt, wincing at the cost of shooting the messages through the void, across worlds, and then sets his communicator to the side. Stares at his desk, then at the covered window. He can still hear them.

He stopped smiling at some point. He doesn’t know when.

He picks up his pen, then sets it back down again. Drags a paper closer with his index finger, and then pushes it back. Slips his hand into his pocket to find his glasses, and then brings it out again, empty of everything but dust.

There’s work to do, and he should either get started or he should go to sleep, but his brain doesn’t seem to want to get the memo. So he sits.

He’s tired. That’s why he’s in this kind of mood. He’s tired, so he’ll just sit here until he feels ready to get some true rest, and it’ll all look better in the morning. Not that it doesn’t look good now.

But he is very tired.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #quackity #nihachu #dsmp fic #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #time travel au #if this fic were divided into acts #this would mark the end of act 1 :)

33 notes · View notes

hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

The Silent Auction- (Hizashi Yamada X Fem!Reader)

This is my contribution to the Citrus Dome Auction Collab! Hizashi is honestly one of my favorite characters to write for and it’s a crime I don’t use him more.

Word Count: ~8.5k

Contains: smut, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, DDLG (if you squint)

Banner by @ladyshinigami

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I can’t believe this.” You sigh for the umpteenth time, twisting this way and that to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You’re wearing a rich, black, floor-length gown with a high slit up one side and just the right amount of ruching to tastefully accentuate your curves. It was truly a miracle that it fit without the need for alterations, considering you’d had to buy the thing in a rush. Hell, you’d barely glanced at the price tag before slapping down your company credit card, viewing it as a bit of karmic justice for your boss’ callous, last-minute assignment. Sure being a sidekick of Endeavor’s (even a minor one) had its perks, but that didn’t make him any less of a nightmare to work for. As you struggled with the miniscule clasp on your necklace, you replayed this morning’s events in your head.

“The Heroes Gala?” You’d questioned, cocking your head in confusion and earning an irritated groan from the Flame Hero.

“Surely you’ve heard of it.” He’d snarked, the flames that ring his face seeming to flare in annoyance. “The Commission holds it once a year as a way to celebrate our achievements in hero society today and raise money for future endeavors. Dignitaries and heroes from all over the country– the world really– are expected to attend.”

“I’m aware of that, sir.” You’d chirped back, straightening up to make up for your lapse in decorum. “I’m just confused by what this has to do with me.”

If looks could kill, the glare he’d shot you would have put you in a coffin.

“Unfortunately, I’ve been called away on an urgent mission and can’t make it to the gala this year. But since I am the Number One Hero, my agency must provide some form of representation. That’s where you come in.”

Your eyes went wide at that, heart jumping into your throat as the gravity of the situation sank in. As far as your job was concerned, Endeavor’s word was law. There was no bargaining or substitution to be made. He didn’t even wait for a response before continuing.

“Your role for this event is simple: smile, wave, and maybe bid on a few of the auction items as a show of good faith. If you win something, fine. Just make sure it’s nothing… distasteful.”

You were tempted to question the noticeable shudder that ran through him as spat out the final word. But the careless wave of his hand was the signal for you to bow and leave, giving you no room for queries. However, just as you were about to walk out the door, he decided to toss some parting remarks your way.

“Make sure to wear something appropriate. It is a black tie event, after all. And one of my other sidekicks will be escorting you this evening. Call it insurance to make sure you don’t do anything to embarrass me.”

“Asshole.” You hiss under your breath, successfully hooking the clasp shut and putting a few loose hairs back in place. “What does he think I’m going to do? Get wasted and swing from the chandelier?”

Still muttering a litany of colorful curses, you march to the edge of your bed and plop down to slip into the matching stilettos you’d picked out during your brief shopping trip. Shoes like these were normally well out of your comfort zone (not to mention your price range), but you weren’t the one paying for them. Call them compensation for sacrificing one of your precious nights off. Once they were on, you stood up from the bed and carefully made your way over to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. You smooth down the fabric of your dress, picking away a few stray pieces of lint and checking for any “embarrassing” blemishes or stains. But everything is almost irritatingly perfect, not a stitch out of place. You’re about to launch into another tirade against Endeavor when your work phone chimes from it’s spot on the nightstand. No doubt it’s your “escort” (you refused to call him a date) texting to let you know he was coming to get you. Or worse, already here.

“No turning back now.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is it.” You hear Endeavor’s other sidekick grunt, forcing you to snap out of your daydreaming and look towards him. You hadn’t batted an eye when you stepped out of your apartment to find Endeavor had sent a limo, driven by one of his fleet of personal chauffeurs, to pick you up. He did have a knack for flashing his wealth and status whenever possible. What did surprise you was his choice of escort for the evening: a man by the name of Buru (or Taurus if you were to use his hero name). Buru was a fair bit older than you, sporting a pair of bull horns and hooves, and corded with so much muscle it was a wonder how he managed to squeeze into a tux. You seem positively miniscule compared to his hulking frame, making you look like a rather odd couple. The driver pulls up to the curbside, quickly putting the limo in park before getting out to hold the door open for you. He courteously extends a hand to you, which you graciously accept before snagging your evening clutch from the seat beside you. You gracefully step out of the vehicle and onto an honest-to-god red carpet leading towards one of the glitziest hotels in the heart of Tokyo, blinking in the wake of what feels like a hundred camera bulbs flashing around you. Reporters and cameramen are clamoring to snap pictures of the various celebrities and heroes, asking questions that run the gamut from classy to trashy.

Buru plods around the limo to join you by your side, giving you a subtle nod to signal that it’s time to start walking. You set off down the plush runway, walking with more confidence than you felt as reporters peppered you and Buru with questions about your relationship to the Number One Hero. Evidently they’d been tipped off regarding Endeavor’s absence. Buru remained stone-faced, his long strides quickly outstripping your much more delicate steps.

“So much for being an escort.” You think, deciding to pick up the pace so as to not be left behind. And that decision quickly reveals itself to be a terrible mistake. Your pencil thin heel catches on a hidden snag in the carpet, causing your ankle to twist and buckle beneath you. You’re thrown off balance, teetering wildly before plummeting headlong towards the carpeted pavement. But before you can fall flat on your face, a set of strong, slender hands wrap themselves around your torso and pull you upwards, your back coming in contact with your savior’s chest.

“Woah there, little listener!” A familiar voice trills in your ear, their hands releasing you once you’re back on stable footing. “You almost took one helluva stage dive! You good?”

You turn over your shoulder to find a smiling face, framed by outrageous orange sunglasses and a well-trimmed mustache. Hypnotic, emerald eyes seem to sparkle back at you and his long blond hair is tied up in a messy, half-bun. You know this man. Everyone in Tokyo with a radio knows him: Present Mic, the Voice Hero.

“Thanks, Present Mic.” You mumble, an embarrassed blush rising on your cheeks. It was bad enough you’d stumbled in front of the press; the incessant clicking and flashing of cameras was reminding you of that. But to be saved by another hero on top of it… it was a little too much. However, the blonde doesn’t seem to care, giving a hearty laugh and clapping a hand on your shoulder good-naturedly.

“Don’t mention it, baby!” He chortles, winking in a way that would seem forced or cheesy coming from anyone else. “Always happy to help. Besides, it doesn’t seem like your boyfriend is too keen on stickin’ around.”

“Boyfriend?” You ask, cocking your head before remembering who you came with. You blush an even deeper shade of red, sure your face is about to burst into flames akin to your employer’s own. “Oh! No, no, no! He’s not my boyfriend. We just work together at the agency.”

“No kiddin’?” Mic says, his grin spreading impossibly wider before straightening up and offering an arm to you. “In that case, how ‘bout I lend you a hand until we get inside? No offense but those heels ya got on seem closer to stilts than kicks, ya dig?

While his radio slang is a bit confusing, you can’t help but find it a little endearing. With a sheepish nod, you grab a hold of his jacket-clad forearm and allow him to smoothly lead you down the remainder of the red carpet. He’s in full ‘Present Mic mode” as you walk together, all winning smiles and carefree waves as the press peppers him with questions.

“Mic who are you wearing this evening?”

“Present Mic! What’s the name of your damsel in distress?

“Mic! Is it true you’re involved in a scandalous affair with fellow Pro, Eraserhead?”

He lets their shameless inquiries roll off of him like water off a duck’s back, only blowing a dramatic kiss to the crowd before you both disappear behind the front doors. Once inside the lobby, Mic walks you over to one of three elevators, ushering you inside with a crush of other gala-goers once the doors open. It’s a short ride up to the venue space, and you can’t help but gasp when the elevator doors open onto an immaculately decorated ballroom. Every wall and archway is decorated with banners in the Hero Commission's signature black and gold colors, festooned with matching sprays of floral arrangements. There’s a live band somewhere in the room, playing soft jazz in the background to create an elegant atmosphere for the evening. But most impressive of all is the view; the farthest wall is made up entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a panoramic view of the Tokyo skyline. The sun is just starting to dip below the horizon, washing the room in an amber light that gives everyone a coppery glow. You’re so spellbound by the scene before you that Mic’s low whistle causes you to jump slightly. How long has he had his arm draped over your shoulders? Come to think of it, when had you slipped your own arm around his waist?

“Damn.” He breathes, carefully walking out of the elevators with you in tow. “This place is bitchin’. So much cooler than last year’s venue.”

“Is that so?” You say, your head swiveling around as a waiter breezes past you with a tray of finger foods. You don’t notice the way Mic watches you, nor do you see the crooked smile that crosses over his face as your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

“Oh yeah.” He says, leading you away from the elevators and further into the crowd. “Last year the Commission rented out some–”

“Mic!” A deep voice calls above the steady thrum of conversation, cutting him off. An equally deep, if not more irritated voice calls out your own name simultaneously. The two of you look in opposite directions, the blonde towards a pair of dark-haired individuals waving him over and you towards your forgotten escort. Buru is fuming, smoke practically pouring out of his ears as he marches towards you.

“Where were you?” He growls while grabbing the hand closest to him and pulling you away from Mic harshly. “You’re not supposed to leave my side. Boss’ orders!”

“Stop it Buru!” You snap, yanking your hand out of his grip. “If you didn’t want me to leave your side, maybe you should have waited for me back on the red carpet. I nearly fell and busted my ass thanks to you! If Present Mic hadn’t been there–”

“No excuses.” Buru snaps back, “I shouldn’t have to wait around because you can’t keep up. We’re Mr. Todoroki’s sidekicks, so try to act like it!”

“Todoroki?” You hear the blonde hero echo behind you, “As in Enji Todoroki? Endeavor?”

You wince at Mic’s words, grateful your back is turned to him at the moment. Endeavor may be a hero, but being associated with him didn’t evoke a lot of warm, fuzzy feelings in folks. And many tended to react poorly when they found out who you worked for. With a dejected sigh, you turn back towards Mic, ignoring the way Buru impatiently stamps his hooves behind you.

“Yes, that’s right.” You say glumly, putting up your mask of professionalism. “I’m one of Endeavor’s sidekicks. He was called away on urgent business and sent me and my associate here to represent him and his agency. Forgive me for not telling you earlier.”

You offer a quick, apologetic bow, hoping to slink away as quickly as possible. But to your surprise, Mic doesn’t scoff, jeer, or even try to suck up to you for favors. He laughs. Not in a cruel or condescending way, but a real, mirthful laugh, infectious to the point you feel your own tension ease slightly.

“So that’s why I didn’t recognize ya!” He chortles, smacking his palm to his forehead. “Although it’s not too surprising. That dude cycles through more sidekicks than a jukebox does music.”

The nonchalant way he insults your boss causes your mask to slip and you let loose a giggle of your own. Buru, on the other hand, is clearly not amused.

“How dare you insult the Number One Hero!” He roars, stepping forward to point a scathing finger at Mic. “Endeavor is twice- no, three times the hero you could ever hope to be!”

“Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy, dude!” Mic says, putting his hands up before shooting you another playful wink. “All I meant was I definitely would have remembered meeting a pretty little thing like your partner here.”

You find yourself blushing and batting your eyelashes at him, returning his obvious attempts at flirting in a more surreptitious manner. Buru just places one broad hand on your shoulder, giving Mic a derisive snort before he starts to drag you away.

“You’re not worth the effort.” He huffs, “Just stay away.”

You can’t resist adding one more match to the fire of Buru’s rage, looking over your shoulder and belting out a cheerful, “It was nice meeting you!”

“See ya around!” The blonde calls back, giving you a chipper wave before disappearing into the throng. Buru leads you to a table at the far end of the room, set with fine crystal stemware and gold place settings. He stiffly pulls out a chair for you, allowing you to sit down before taking up residence beside you. You’re amazed the flimsy looking things can support any weight at all, much less the mountain of horned muscle currently glowering at you. He crosses his arms and leans back with a grunt.

“So… now what?” You ask, absentmindedly fiddling with the gold napkin ring in front of you.

“You stay put.” He commands, “No leaving my sight for any reason.”

“You’re joking right? Do you seriously expect me to sit here with you all night?”

Buru doesn’t answer, instead turning his glare onto the crowd. You groan and flop forwards to rest your elbows on the table, opting to occupy your time with people watching. The ballroom is crawling with high-profile attendees: pros and sidekicks, politicians and CEO’s, celebrities and VIP’s. All of them with money, power, and prestige oozing out of their pores. You watch as the tuxedo-clad waitstaff scurry amongst the party-goers, offering up trays of hors d'oeuvres and honey-colored champagne. Every once a while, one of them makes their way over to your table with some delicious little morsel to offer. And in your famished state, the already excellently prepared food tastes like heaven. But when a server carrying a tray of champagne comes by to offer you a glass, Buru grabs your wrist before you can partake and rudely waves the poor girl off.

“What the hell was that for?” You hiss, rubbing at your now sore wrist.

“No alcohol. You’ve embarrassed me and Endeavor enough as it is.”

That does it. You can deal with villains, Endeavor, even your parents if necessary. But this “personal babysitter” schtick has gone far enough. You stand up from the table with a huff, swiftly moving out of Buru’s reach before he can grab you again.

“Sit down!”

“No! I have to go to the bathroom. Can I at least do that?”

“I’ll accompany you.”

“Like hell you will! I’m a grown woman. I can go to the bathroom by myself without getting in trouble.”

Buru narrows his eyes and scowls deeply at you. You stare him down, refusing to back down from this fight. After a few tense moments, he relaxes slightly and gives a curt nod.

“You have ten minutes.”

You grab your clutch, turn on your heel and march off into the fray, doing your best to avoid stepping on other people with your dagger sharp heels. As you make your way across the crowded dance floor, you begin to recognize the more popular Pro Heroes among the sea of faces. Some of them you’d had the privilege of meeting personally, like Hawks and Miruko, both of whom were currently surrounded by fans and admirers. Others you’d only seen on TV or in newspaper clippings, but that didn’t make them any less impressive. In fact, you were too busy watching Fatgum scarf down a whole tray of artisanal onigiri by himself to notice a certain blonde standing in your way until it was too late. You bumped right into him, bouncing off with an embarrassed “I’m so sorry!” before coming eye-to-eye with those striking green whorls again.

“Oh hey, it’s you!” Mic exclaims, grinning down at you like he hasn’t seen you in ages. “No need to be sorry, baby. This thing’s a rental anyways!”

“But you’re all wet now.” You say, watching him while he wipes the remains of his spilled champagne off his tux jacket. “I can pay for the cleaning fees if necessary. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Honey, trust me. There are worse things to be covered in than free champagne. I’ve been to enough of these gigs to know!”

You giggle and open your mouth to respond, but are cut off by a velvety voice coming from your left.

“Is this the little songbird you were telling us about, Zashi?’

You turn to find one of Present Mic’s companions from earlier, a dark-haired woman sipping her own drink and watching your exchange. She’s dressed in a skintight, scarlet gown with a neckline that plunges almost to her navel. A matching pair of horn-rimmed spectacles are perched on her nose, framing her striking cerulean eyes. Even without their signature harness and flogger, you recognize her as Miss Midnight.

“Yup! She’s the one!” Present Mic confirms, casually slinging his arm back around your shoulders. “What’d I tell ya? Pretty cute, right?”

The R-Rated Hero turns her gaze on you at his words, the sultry look in her eyes causing your stomach to flip a little. Seriously, it should be illegal for anyone to look that sexy.

“Very cute.” She assesses with a nod, “Zashi says you work for Endeavor, yes?”

“Y-yeah.” You fumble, slightly flustered and tongue-tied in the face of her scandalous beauty. “I’m one of his sidekicks.”

“I’m sorry.” Midnight quips back, her lack of manners shocking you slightly. But judging by the booze-bitten blush on her cheeks, you suppose the liquid courage in her system is to blame. “I know he’s the Number One Hero, but I’ve been his colleague long enough to realize how intense he can be. He must have you on a pretty short leash, huh?”

“I’ll say!” Mic chimes in, “He sent along some “nanny cow” of a sidekick to watch her all night. Speakin’ of which, how’d you manage to shake him?”

“Well…”

You glance back in the direction you came from, only for your face to drain of all color as you see a tell-tale pair of horns bobbing up and down amongst the crowd. Hizashi follows your line of sight and instantly sees the danger. Quick as anything, his arm snakes around your midriff and he turns to Midnight for assistance.

“Hey Nemuri, I got a gig for ya. See that guy with the horns? Big, mean, and ugly lookin’? Think you can distract him for a few minutes?”

“No problem!” She chirps without hesitation, tipping back the rest of her brightly colored cocktail before readjusting the neckline of her dress. It makes you wonder how much cleavage someone can possibly show before it crosses the line into pornographic. You’re too busy looking over your shoulder for Buru to notice the subtle wink that passes between the two heroes. And then Hizashi is moving, seamlessly flitting through the crowd and keeping you firmly glued to his side as you duck and weave around the other guests. You have to admit the speed at which he navigates the crowded space is impressive as he heads for one of the darkened archways lining the walls. Soon the crowd thins out and you reluctantly pry yourself out from under Mic’s arm to get your bearings. He’s lead you into a dimly-lit, side hallway, with tables and doorways lining the farthest walls. The din of party conversation and music is more muffled now, making you feel like you’re in a state of limbo.

“Where are we?”

“Silent auction.” Mic answers plainly, “Figured I’d take you somewhere quieter while we let Midnight do her thing.”

“And what exactly is her ‘thing?” You ask skeptically, wandering over to one of the display tables to check out the wares.

“You’ll see.” He says with a smirk, silently following behind you with his hands in his pockets. There are miniature spotlights shining down on the auction items, with slips of paper and pens for people to write in their bids. All the prizes are exceedingly lavish, from baskets overflowing with expensive spirits and goodies to exotic trips around the world. And the bids themselves leave your head spinning, shocked and a little sickened by the amount of money being casually thrown around.

“I’m sorry, the minimum bid for this is how much?” You scoff, pointing at the high price tag on what appears to be a singular bottle of wine. Mic leans over your shoulder to read the number himself, letting out a low whistle.

“Must be some good stuff.” He says with a smirk.

“I’m totally bidding on it.”

“You’re kiddin’ right? Last I checked, sidekicks don’t make that kind of bank, even if they do work for the Number One Pro. What are ya, some kind of secret billionaire princess?”

“Sadly no.” You say, digging into your evening bag to pull out a sleek, black card. “But I’m not the one who’s paying. And Endeavor did say to bid on a few items, ‘as a show of good faith.”

You end your sentence on a terrible impression of the Flame Hero, earning another snicker from the blonde as you place your bid. The pair of you wander the auction area for a while, gawking at the ludicrous prices and talking quietly. Or at least, as quietly as the blonde can manage. You fall into easy conversation, mainly discussing work in the hero world and Mic’s teaching career. Present Mic, or Hizashi as he prefers to be called, is a surprisingly eloquent speaker and his high-energy demeanor ensures there’s never a lull in the conversation. It’s honestly refreshing after dealing with the snooty, intense people you’re used to at the agency. Not to mention, he has no qualms about encouraging you to be a little mischievous when it comes to spending your boss’ money.

“How ‘bout that one?” He says, gesturing to a particularly gaudy piece of abstract art. “I think that would look rad on the big man’s mantlepiece, yeah?”

You giggle and lightly push against his arm, as mild punishment for his goofiness.

“No way. Endeavor specifically said to not bid on something too ‘distasteful.’ And I’m pretty sure that thing is towing the line. What’s it even supposed to be?”

“It kinda looks like All Might.” Hizashi offers, “If you stand really far away and squint. I don’t really know much about fine art. But I do know ‘distasteful’ and I’m tellin’ ya now, this aint it baby.”

“And what would you qualify as distasteful?”

A grin that can only be likened to the Cheshire Cat spreads across Hizashi’s handsome face.

“I’ll show you.” He says, extending a hand to you. You grab a hold and allow him to guide you towards one of the doors along the wall. As you get closer, you realize there are small placards inscribed with a number on each of the handles. Hizashi is currently leading you to a door marked with the number seventeen, opening it for you and allowing you to step inside ahead of him. You find yourself in a much smaller room, washed in the same dim lighting as the rest of the auction area. It’s just big enough for two people to stand inside (three if they’re thin), and the oak paneling and cramped quarters almost remind you of a confessional booth. But there’s no man of the cloth here; instead there’s a screen set into the farthest wall and a small, black button resting on a shallow shelf below it. The screen only displays a three-digit number, every so often flashing red before going back to the number.

“What the hell?” You breathe while stepping farther into the room, allowing Hizashi to squeeze in behind you.

“Welcome to the main event of the Heroes Gala.” He says, closing the door. “The Anonymous Auction.”

“The Anonymous Auction?” You parrot back quizzically, turning around to face the blonde.

“You’re aware that most of the Commission's funding comes from public taxes, yeah?” He asks, waiting for your nod before continuing. “Well taxpayer dollars can only go so far. Especially when hero and villain activity has only gone up over time. Rebuildin’ a city you just smashed like an old record ain't cheap you know.”

He pauses to jerk one thumb behind him.

“That’s why they started holdin’ auctions– this whole gala, really– in the first place. It’s all just a fancy way to supplement the Commission’s budget. And due to the popularity of the auctions, they started offering some more… exclusive items in recent years.”

“What do you mean by exclusive?”

Hizashi gives you another playful smirk, looking at you over the rim of his sunglasses.

“You’re a smart girl. What do you think it means?”

He steps a little closer to you and places his hands on your waist for emphasis, thumbing small circles at the swell of your hips. You unconsciously lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed for a moment before snapping open once more, realization crashing over you like a tidal wave.

“You mean like sex stuff!?” You squeak bluntly, earning a laugh from the Voice Hero.

“Well not all of it! But there have been some bizarre and kinda risqué items up for sale in the past.”

“Such as?”

“Well, I know for a fact that Nemuri donates a part of her “collection” to the auction every year.” Hizashi states, putting air quotes around the term. “And rumor has it that last year All Might auctioned off a pair of his underwear. I don’t know about that one, but if that’s true, then it explains how UA paid for it’s new training grounds and why the staff got a nice Christmas bonus.”

You can’t help but giggle at the thought of some snobby billionaire drooling over a pair of All Might’s underwear. Maybe they’d had them framed, mounted on the wall like a hunting trophy. You’re too caught up in your ridiculous daydreaming to realize Hizashi has stepped even closer to you, not until you can feel his hands sliding a little further down your sides and a little farther behind you. You’re now chest to chest, breathing in tandem as he leans down to speak directly into your ear.

“So now that we’re in here… what do you say we play a little game?”

His voice is low and smooth, audial honey dripping into your brain. Your breath unconsciously catches in your throat as your body moves of its own accord to press closer to him. The energy between you is shifting palpably, from friendly strangers to something much more intimate and heavy. The room feels like it’s heating up and your dress suddenly feels much too snug.

“What kind of game?” You murmur back, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he hums in response.

“How ‘bout the quiet game?” He says, his bristly mustache tickling your cheek when he speaks. “But we’ll make it a little more interesting.”

You can feel him begin to gently push against you, forcing you to walk backwards until you feel the top of your tailbone bump into the low shelf. Hizashi’s hands never leave your body, roaming lower to finally settle on the plush curve of your ass. If anybody else was doing this, you’d have kneed them in the jewels and run for the nearest exit by now. But for some reason, you trust Hizashi. You want Hizashi. And if the steady throbbing in your core is any indication, you need Hizashi.

“Here’s the deal, babygirl.” He says, lifting his head to rest his forehead against your own. You can’t help the way your thighs tense at the pet name, something that definitely doesn't go unnoticed by the Voice Hero. “You’re going to try and stay as quiet as possible. And every time you get too noisy, you’re going to press that little button.”

His eyes flit over to the device in question before locking back on yours.

“That button raises your bid on whatever item is currently up for grabs. So the less noise you make, the less bids you make. And you wouldn’t want to end up winning something distasteful, yeah?”

You subtly shake your head and crack a small smile at his joke, bringing your hands up to rest on his clothed pecs. You’re surprised to feel powerful muscles rippling underneath his rented dress shirt, along with the heat rolling off of his body and the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Clearly that rented tux is doing nothing for his figure.

“Well what are you going to do?” You tease, running your hands up the plane of his chest and underneath the jacket to grip his broad shoulders. “Seems like I’m the only one playing this game of yours.”

One of his hands leaves your ass to hook a finger under your chin, forcing your head to tilt upwards. He gives you a sinfully wicked grin.

“Oh but that’s the best part, baby. I’m going to try and make you scream.”

Suddenly his lips are crashing into yours, sloppily at first but soon smoothing out into a steady push and pull. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently before letting it spring back into place. You sigh into his mouth, a sound eagerly returned by the hero. Your nails dig into his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his shirt as he deepens the kiss. There’s tenderness in the kiss to be sure, but also a fierce dominance that has you fighting against the moans rising in your throat. Hizashi uses the shelf behind you to force and arch into your back before kissing his way down the sensitive column of your throat. He licks and sucks at your pulse point, not hard enough to leave marks but enough to remind you that he’s in control. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, even going so far as to clap a hand over your mouth when he gives a particularly sharp nip. He clicks his tongue against your skin, bringing up his free hand to pull yours away.

“Ah ah ah. No cheating, baby.” He says, moving farther down your chest until his chin rests between the supple swell of your breasts. “If you try to put yourself on mute again you’ll have to press that button regardless. Ya dig?”

You nod and he releases your hand, allowing you to curl your arm around and place it at the base of his neck. Pleased with your compliance, Hizashi hooks his thumbs under the straps of your dress and gently shrugs them off. The top half of your gown falls away, pooling around your waist as your breasts are fully exposed to the open air. They pebble and peak instantly, despite the perceived heat in the room, and you feel Hizashi’s hum of appreciation rumble through your sternum. His hands come up to cup them, indulging in their full weight and supple give as he squeezes them lightly. His head dips down to kiss your right breast, ghosting over the pert bud of your nipple as he places featherlight kisses around the areola. It’s maddening, far too light and teasing for your liking. The hand on the back of his neck suddenly fists in his hair and you pull him closer to you, squishing his nose against the pliant flesh.

“Damn baby. Feelin’ needy already, huh?” He chuckles against you, pulling away slightly to look up at you through half-lidded, golden lashes. You whine softly, still pulling his head closer to your body. Hizashi resumes fondling your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth while using his thumb and forefinger to toy with the other. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nub, every deft twirl and brush mirrored by his fingers. It’s a blissful sensation, heating licking across your nerves and shooting straight to your core. Suddenly, he gives a particularly hard suck and pinch, pulling an involuntary gasp from you. You can feel his smug grin before you even look at him, and he pulls off your nipple with a soft pop.

“Strike one, princess. You know what you have to do.”

“I thought you said no cheating.” You whine, feeling the fresh slick coating your panties and relishing the lingering sting emanating from your nipples.

“It’s not cheating, it’s part of the game. Your job is to stay quiet, my job is to break the silence. Now are you going to play by the rules or not?”

You look over at the seemingly innocent button and furrow your brow. It’s only just dawned on you now that you have no idea what you’d be bidding on and a bolt of panic shoots through you. What if it was a piece from Nemuri’s collection? Or something worse! Hizashi, seeming to sense your trepidation, briefly raises his head up to plant a soothing kiss to your temple.

“Hey, we can stop if you wanna.” He says, removing his hands from your breasts to cup your cheeks. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m not gonna push ya.”

Your eyes bounce between the little black button and Hizashi’s face, biting your lip in your moment of indecision. It was a gamble for sure, a gamble that could easily cost you your job should you end up winning. But then again… how much humiliation and strain had your nightmare of a boss put you through in the past year? The past month? The past 24 hours? Taking a deep breath, you tentatively press the button, the screen behind you flashing green to signal the successful placement of your bid. Hizashi smiles down at you, impressed with your boldness.

“Fuck it.” You breathe, stretching up to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “I’m all in.”

Hizashi returns the kiss with interest before fully sinking to his knees, running one hand up the slit of your dress to rest on your exposed thigh.

“Okay then, baby.” He purrs, “I need you to spread your legs a little more for me. Lemme see what we’re workin’ with down here, yeah?”

You willingly comply, widening your stance as Hizashi sweeps the bottom half of the dress out of the way and tucks it behind you. The black, lacy thong you’d picked out for the occasion is soaked through, your essence already starting to coat your inner thighs. Hizashi runs one finger up your barely clothed slit, whistling when he feels how damp they are.

“Damn baby.” He breathes, almost like he’s in awe. “These are fucking ruined.”

You resume biting your lip when you feel two of his fingers hook underneath the material and pull it to the side, fighting against the urge to close your legs.

“Such a pretty girl…” Hizashi coos against you, planting a soft kiss to your right thigh before resting his head against it. “Everything about you is pretty.”

You can’t stop the blush that rises to your cheeks at the whispered praise, nor help the way your cunt clenches around nothing. It certainly doesn’t go unnoticed by the blonde as he leans in closer, using his thumbs to gingerly pry your labia apart. He looks up at you hungrily, pupils blown wide with desire as he tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Hold on tight, baby.”

Hizashi uses the flat of his tongue to lick a hot stripe up your slit, letting out a low, filthy moan at the taste. You realize now why he gave you a warning. He’s using his quirk to amplify his moans tenfold, turning his mouth and tongue into the most attentive sex toy on Earth. The vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, clouding your senses with desire. Whatever restraint the hero possessed dissolves the moment he tastes you, as he latches on to your rapidly swelling clit and sucks roughly. You gasp at the new sensation, hips unconsciously bucking to force his face further into you. He hums and willingly obeys your body’s command, replacing his mouth with a heavy thumb and delving his tongue between your folds to lap at your quivering entrance. The increase in intensity causes your thighs squeeze together, caging in the hero’s head as he dutifully tongue-fucks you. You can already feel an orgasm mounting deep in your core, his earlier teasing and stimulation paying off in spades. But his tongue isn’t enough, even with his quirk.

“M-More!” You cry out, unable to quell your pleading voice. “I need more. Need to cum. Please let me cum!”

Hizashi pinches the back of your thigh, a silent reminder for you to follow through with the rules of the game. With a groan you bring your hand down on the button, ignoring the flashing screen as you grind your hips down onto his face. But just when you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away from you, breathing heavily and his face coated in your sticky juices. You whimper at the loss of contact, but his hands keep your thighs spread apart to deny you the friction you seek.

“Good girl.” He pants, still swirling his thumb over your aching pearl. “So good for me, baby.”

“Then why’d you stop?” You softly moan, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes. You’d been so close.

“Because,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The only way I want you to cum is on my cock.”

Before you can fully register his words, he grabs you by the hips and flips you around, pulling your dress up and bunching it in one fist. Your panties are roughly yanked down around your ankles and you have to brace yourself against the shelf as you feel the hard bulge of Hizashi’s pants rub against your bared ass. A sharp smack to one cheek causes you to yelp, and a quick smack to the other forces you to bring your hand down on the button.

“Cheater.” You pant, earning a dark chuckle for the man behind you.

“Name-calling are we now, baby? Just for that, you don’t get to cum until I say so. Understood?”

You nod quickly, glancing behind you when you feel him start to fiddle with his belt and zipper. Your eyes widen when you see his painfully erect cock spring free: long, thick, and with a silver ring adorning the reddened tip. He gives the length a few short pumps, coaxing out a pearly bead of precum that quickly winds its way around the Prince Albert piercing.

“I think someone likes what she sees.” He says coyly, flicking one finger against the metal for emphasis. “Ever been with a pierced guy before?”

You shake your head and Mic smirks.

“Then trust me. You’re gonna love this, babygirl.”

He lines the head up with your entrance and starts to slowly push into you, the initial stretch causing you to hiss in pain. But the burn soon melts into pleasure as Hizashi buries himself to the hilt, bottoming out with a grunt of his own. You can feel the metal ring bumping against your cervix already, a low moan escaping when he gives a few shallow thrusts.

“Good girl. Takin’ me so well. So tight and perfect.” He mutters breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper. The praise makes you whimper and clamp down on his cock, earning a moan of pleasure from Hizashi. He starts to move in earnest, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. Each forward thrust pushes your face closer to the wall, your breasts brushing back and forth across the cool wooden shelf and stimulating your pebbled nipples.Your mind is floating in a haze of hedonistic bliss as the air around you fills with the sounds of slapping skin and the scent of sex. You can already feel your orgasm racing towards you at a breakneck speed, the coil in your belly tightening with each thrust. Hizashi suddenly sinks his teeth into your right shoulder with a an almost feral growl, blunted teeth nearly piercing the skin. You squeal at the brilliant pain, only to feel his tongue lave over the forming welts, soothing them. You automatically bring your hand down on the button and his pace quickens in response, rewarding you by maneuvering his hips until he finds the spot that makes your vision go white and your mind go blank.

“Th-th-there!” You sputter out, smacking the button before instinctually backing into him. You don’t give a damn about your boss or the money anymore. All you can focus on right now is chasing your own mind-numbing pleasure. He gives a hum of acknowledgement and straightens up, angling his thrusts to hit that spot every time. He can feel the way your walls flutter and shiver, right on the edge of release.

“That’s it, babygirl.” He grunts, licking the pad of his fingers before reaching below your bodies to find your clit. Slender digits rubs tight circles on the swollen bead, the rough touch making you almost sob in relief. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock!”

It’s a demand, one that your body is more than ready to obey. With one final circle of his thumb, the pressure snaps and you cry out in toe-curling ecstasy. It feels like your entire body locks up from the intensity of your orgasm and Hizashi gives a cry of his own when he feels the way your pussy clamps down on him like a vise. He forgoes gentleness in favor of animalistic rutting, gripping your hips to set a brutal and unforgiving pace. His cockhead and piercing continually slam into your g-spot and cervix, lengthening your own orgasm to an almost unbearable extent.

“Shit.” He curses, pistoning into you like a rabbit while his balls slap against your clit. “I’m fuckin’ close. Where do you want it?”

“Cum in me!” You wail, the game forgotten as fireworks explode behind your eyes. “Please! Hizashi! I need it.”

Hearing you beg so sweetly for him snaps what little composure he had left. Hizashi lets loose a guttural howl and after a few harsh thrusts, his hips stutter to a halt. You can feel his cock pulsing deep within you, filling you up with rope after rope of thick, white seed. He stays inside you for a moment, breathing heavily and feeling the way your velvety walls throb around his length. Your body feels hot and heavy, head swimming as you gradually come down from the high. Eventually, Present Mic pulls his spent dick from your abused hole, pausing to admire the way his cum oozes out and drips onto the wood floor before pulling your panties back up. Your legs might as well be made of jelly for how useful they are right now, wobbling on your stilettos as you hold onto the shelf for dear life.

“That…” You pant, “That was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Hizashi says behind you, tucking himself back into his trousers before smoothing one hand up and down your exposed back. His gentle touch causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, your nerves still overly sensitive.

“Yeah.” You breathe, “I needed that.”

Hizashi smirks and leans down to pepper kisses along your shoulder blades, basking in the afterglow alongside you. You practically melt under his affections, never wanting this tender, warm feeling to end.

“Can you stand?” He asks after a few minutes and you weakly nod. Carefully, he helps you stand upright, brushing a few stray pieces of hair behind your ear while you fix your dress and cover your chest once more. Hizashi then moves to fix his own half-bun, smirking at the way you’re dreamily looking up at him.

“Hey space cadet.” He teases, tapping the tip of your nose with one finger. “Come back to Earth for me, will ya? We better get outta here before your nanny cow calls the cops. Or worse, Endeavor.”

You blink slowly and hum in agreement, lazily looking over at the button one last time. And then you freeze. A new message is scrolling across the screen:

Congratulations! You have won lot #114. Please collect your prize.

“Oh my god…” You whisper, feeling your blissful headspace drown under an icy wave of fear. “Oh my god, NO! What the fuck did I just do?”

“Hm?” Hizashi turns to the screen and it’s too-cheerful message. “Oh! Well wouldja look at that?”

“Why are you being so calm about this!?” You shriek, grabbing him by the lapels of the tuxedo and frantically shaking him. “My boss is going to kill me! I have no idea what I– what he just bought! It could be a dildo in the shape of All Might’s dick for all I know!”

“Hey, hey! Chill out, baby!” Hizashi says, placing both hands on your shoulders to steady you. “Just breathe for me, okay? Nice and slow. You didn’t buy anything like that, I promise.”

“How do you know?” You squeak, trying not to hyperventilate.

“Because I know exactly what they were auctioning off with that lot number.”

“Then spare me the dramatics and spit it out, Hizashi! What did I just win!?”

“... Me.”

The world seems to stop for a moment as you stare up at Hizashi’s sheepish face. You open and close your mouth like a goldfish, your overloaded brain trying to find the right words to say. It settles on a neanderthalic, “Huh?”

“You won me.” He repeats, “Well not forever anyways. Just for 24 hours.”

“I don’t understand. Are you trying to be funny?”

“I’m dead serious, baby! The Anonymous Auction doesn’t just offer material stuff. People can bid on and win “dates” with Pro Heroes. The more popular the Pro, the more money comes in. I volunteered to do it this year since a couple of my buddies did it last year.”

You blink slowly, allowing your panicky brain to process this new information.

“So… is that why you brought me here? Because you knew it was time for the bidding to start on your date?”

“I swear, I had no idea.” Hizashi says, crossing an X over his heart for emphasis. “I just wanted a chance to talk to you more and get ya away from that creep of a partner you came with. It was honestly just a lucky coincidence.”

“And the quiet game?”

“I came up with that on the fly when I saw my lot number on the screen. But I didn’t expect you to actually win the auction. And if you don’t wanna go through with this because of your boss or me, then I totally get it. You can always defer to the second highest bidder. That kinda thing happens all the time.”

You step back from Hizashi and turn away, muttering a quick, “Give me a minute.”

Looking past the insanity of the situation, you had to admit you were a little impressed, even grateful, for Hizashi’s scheme. He’d saved you from dealing with Buru, at least for a little while, and made sure you had a fun time doing it. And besides, it’s not like you weren’t attracted to the man. Sure he was loud and goofy, but he was also sweet and charismatic. Not to mention a damn good lay.

“... Okay.” You say after a few moments of thought, snapping your attention back to Hizashi. “Here’s what I want to do.”

You hold up one finger.

“First of all, I want to find a bathroom and get myself cleaned up. This is a nice dress and I don’t want it to get stained, if you catch my drift.”

Hizashi nods in understanding. You put up a second finger.

“Secondly, I’m absolutely starving. So I want to get some water and food. And maybe a glass of champagne.”

Hizashi cracks a smile at that, giving a chuckle of “You got it, baby.”

“And finally,” You say, stepping forward to grab Hizashi by the front of his jacket and pull him in for a kiss. “I want to collect my prize.”

#hizashi yamada #hizashi x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #hizashi yamada x reader smut #mha x reader #citrus dome collab

243 notes · View notes

writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Birthday Present

Summary: Y/N Shelby’s birthday was fast approaching, and Tommy has no idea what to buy for her. Who would have thought that a night of drunken antics would give him the perfect answer?

Word Count: 2462

Y/B/M = Your birth month

A/N: Is this fic basically a belated birthday present to myself? Yes. Is it completely different to the one I planned? Absolutely 😂 Hope you all love this one as much as I do 💜

Upon Tommy's arrival back to Arrow House, Mary could tell as soon as he stepped out of the car that he was in a foul mood, even by his standards.

He'd been in London for the past week, sorting out some business. That part of the trip had gone well, Tommy had conceded, but the same couldn't be said for the other part of his mission: finding a birthday present for Y/N. In the past the Shelby's had clubbed together to buy presents, however this year Tommy wanted to get Y/N something special that was just from him.

It was to be a thank you, really, for having put up with his shit for so long, yet never wavering in her loyalty to him. To say that he was supposed to be the one looking after her, for Y/N was his little sister, the roles had definitely been reversed over the last few years: she had helped him through his nightmares and opium addiction, provided him with brutal and blatant honesty (no matter how much he sulked or raged afterwards until he realised that she was right), and had dropped everything to move to Arrow House with him and Charlie after Grace's death.

To say that he was grateful for Y/N would be an understatement.

But seeing as everyone knew that Thomas Shelby was abysmal when it comes to talking about emotions, he wanted to show it in the only way he knew how – spending ridiculous amounts of his money on her.

He had dragged Ada through all of the best shops in London, looking for something spectacular to gift to Y/N. Tommy had ignored Ada's reminders about Y/N's love for simplicity and the little things: in his eyes, Y/N deserved the best that money could buy, so that's what he would get for her.

Yet nothing that they had looked at seemed quite right – it just wasn't Y/N enough. He should've realised then that Ada was right.

So Tommy returned to Warwickshire a day earlier than expected, empty-handed, exhausted and annoyed at himself.

Curiosity took over, however, upon hearing music echoing through the halls of Arrow House. After following it, even Tommy's seemingly ice-cold heart melted slightly at the sight that greeted him home: Y/N has dug out the old gramophone, which hadn't been used since Grace had died, and she was dancing around the room with a whiskey in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other.

Tommy smiled softly at the sight of his sister swaying to the music, unaware that she was being watched. She looked young and happy and carefree, a far cry from her usual reserved and guarded self. Tommy forgot about his own troubles just watching her, enjoying seeing Y/N so alive.

But quickly, his mood changed and the smile vanished. Tommy found himself mourning, almost, the life that Y/N should've had, but because of him she could never live. Times like this shouldn't have been a rarity for his little sister: her whole life should have been filled with the unabated joy that exuded from her in this moment. Instead, she looked over her shoulder at every turn, cleared up the mess after each of his mistakes and constantly walked the streets with a target on her back.

Y/N chose this moment to turn around, having noticed that her glass was empty once again, and was momentarily stunned at seeing Tommy. That feeling passed in an instant, however, and she found herself barrelling across the room, throwing herself into her brother's arms. "TOM!" Her delight could be seen from a million miles away.

"You alright?" He rubbed her back gently as they hugged, and he noticed the strong smell of whiskey on her. "How many of those have you had?" Tommy gestured to the empty glass sat on the table, which Y/N was now refilling, along with a second one that she poured for him.

"Only one or two, Tom." Despite her best efforts to look and sound innocent, what Y/N didn't realise was that her flushed cheeks and the devilish glint in her eye gave her away, causing Tommy to smirk in amusement.

The track on the record changed to a lively Charleston, which only sounded vaguely familiar to Tommy's ears, however sparked far more of a reaction from his sister. She gasped loudly and downed her drink in one, slamming the glass down on the table, causing Tommy to raise his eyebrows at her. Y/N had a large smile plastered on her face as she exclaimed "Oh , I love this one!" She ran to turn the volume up, and started dancing once more.

"Won't this wake Charles up?" Tommy wasn't in the mood to deal with the screaming baby, especially if he was already fast asleep.

"Oh no, Tom, he's the reason I got the gramophone out in the first place. What I've discovered over the last few days is that your son adores music." Y/N turned to face Tommy, and adopted the matter-of-fact tone that she used so frequently with him. "A little dance to something upbeat to tire him out, then you put something gentler on and in no time at all he's out like a light."

Tommy felt guilt bubbling up inside of him, replacing his amusement at his younger sister's drunken state. Y/N had managed to find the solution that he had been looking for since Charlie's birth in a matter of days. It showed how little he knew about his own son, and was just another thing Y/N had had to figure out on her own, another problem that she had taken upon herself to solve for him.

Following Tommy's long silence, Y/N looked over at her elder brother, noticing the sad and far-away look on his face, and held out a hand dramatically towards him. "Will you join me, Tom, or have you forgotten how to dance?"

"I'm tired, Y/N/N. Another time, perhaps."

"So you have forgotten."

"Remember who taught you how to dance, sweetheart." His gaze softened as he recalled fond memories of his sister stepping on his toes. "Anyway, I don't think I could keep up with you now I'm older, as you kindly keep reminding me."

Y/N smirked at this. "Yes, Tom, but I'm older as well... that's how age works." She grabbed his hands in hers and started to force him to move his body a little to the music. "Come on, old man, you're not doing anything to help those creaking bones of yours!"

Tommy sighed, realising that he wasn't escaping, and reluctantly started to dance a bit with her. Y/N cackled at how out of practice he was, his movements stiff and face void of emotion, and was determined to get her older brother to loosen up before she went to bed.

***

A couple of hours later, the room was filled with laughter and both siblings had uncontainable smiles on their faces.

Everywhere was a mess. Records were strewn across the table, as they had quickly been through every one and couldn't remember which ones they liked the best; the furniture had been shoved to the side to make more space, with Tommy's suit and tie discarded on the sofa; and empty bottles of alcohol and various glasses were dotted around the room.

It's safe to say that Y/N had succeeded in her mission – Tommy was the happiest that she had seen him in a long time. She wished that this night could last forever, just her and her favourite brother in their own little world, where none of their worries could touch them.

***

The clock on the mantlepiece would have told Tommy that it was now the early hours of the morning, but he paid no attention to it

A slower tune played as the brother and sister swayed together in the middle of the room. Y/N was half-asleep, exhaustion having taken hold as her body caught up with the amount of alcohol she had consumed. It was rare for her to spend so much time with Tommy these days, despite having moved into his home, and she refused to waste one second of it while he was in the right mood.

As for Tommy himself, he was thinking; not at the fast-pace at which his thoughts usually raced, but just thinking. Well, more reminiscing. He hadn't spent a night like this since before the war; in fact he hadn't come close to feeling this free and at peace since before the war. Even when Grace was still here, his mind was more often than not occupied by business.

He thought about the not so little girl wrapped safely in his arms. Placing a soft kiss on the top of her head, he wondered ‘When did she become so grown up? Where did the time go?’

Breaking the quiet between them, Tommy only just heard his sister’s drunken mumbles of “This is the best birthday present ever,” and felt his heart melt even more.

He observed the contented smile that rested on his sister’s face and realised that Ada was right about Y/N: she lived for the special little things in life, she lived for family and for love, not money and jewels.

Y/N lived for moments like this… and, just like that, Tommy knew what the perfect present would be.

***

Two days later, and it was Y/N’s birthday.

Since it was a Sunday, all that she had wanted to do to celebrate was to have a big lunch with all of her family. So, the whole Shelby clan, spouses and children included, piled into Arrow House for one very chaotic afternoon.

Y/N couldn't have been happier with how the day turned out. Arguments were kept to a minimum (but Y/N secretly enjoyed the slight bickering that inevitably occurred), she was able to play with all of her nieces and nephews in the garden to her heart's content, and the whole of Arrow House had a buzz about it.

Even Tommy didn't seem to be as grumpy and pre-occupied as usual. Something had changed in her brother since that drunken night, and Y/N couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. But it was a change for the better, so she wasn't going to complain or question it. Despite her longing for a night like that again, she knew that it was an unrealistic dream: Tommy had far too much on his plate nowadays, even if Y/N thought that it would do him the world of good to let go every now and again. And, Y/N admitted to herself, she had missed her big brother much more than she realised.

But Y/N didn't dwell on that for too long, knowing that she'd miss out on things if she spent too long in her own head (such as John, who had just fallen out of a tree in an attempt to beat his own children in climbing it).

***

It was dusk before the family left, and as much as it was one of the best birthdays that Y/N could remember, she was glad for the quiet and a bit of time to herself.

After eating some more birthday cake and having a cup of tea on the bench in the garden, watching as the stars gradually appeared in the Y/B/M sky, Y/N retreated back inside having discovered that it was nearly midnight.

Mary informed her that her brother had already gone up to bed for the night. On any other day, Y/N would have been surprised at this bit of news, knowing how late Tommy normally stayed up to work; but her family was exhausting when they were all together for half an hour, never mind half a day, so she quietly padded up the stairs to do the same.

Her attention was immediately drawn to a large box that rested on her bed the moment that she entered her room. Y/N would’ve been suspicious if it wasn’t for the note that sat on top of it:

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.

Love,

Tommy x”

Excitement and intrigue building up inside of her rapidly, she untied the messy bow (Tommy had clearly tried his best) and lifted the lid. Inside she found four new records and two bottles of whiskey. For a moment she was confused, but then she found a second note:

“For the next time…

T x”

Y/N felt her heart swell with emotion and tears began to line her eyes as she smiled.

She threw on her nightdress and wandered down the hall to her brother’s bedroom. Knocking gently, she pushed the door open slightly, just enough to stick her head around it. Tommy’s crystal blue eyes locked with hers and she suddenly found herself wondering why she was there at all: she and Tommy were both awful at things like this (when then were sober, anyway). There was a reason why he left the present somewhere that she would find it by herself, rather than giving it to her himself.

Suddenly feeling awkward, Y/N smiled slightly and nodded, not knowing what to say to her brother. As she began to close the door again, Y/N heard a slight chuckle from inside the room and Tommy softly called her name.

She shuffled back into the room, looking at anything but her brother sat on the bed. "I know it's late, but I just wanted to say -" But she was unable to finish that important sentence, a loud, long yawn having escaped her.

When she opened her eyes again, Y/N saw, to her surprise, an amused smile playing on Tommy's lips. He pulled back the covers on the other side of his grand bed, and raised his eyebrows, silently posing a question that he hadn't asked for a long time.

In recent years, Tommy hadn't been overly affectionate: Y/N guessed that it was just another side effect of the war. So, when the opportunity arose for Y/N to get a hug from her brother (who used to give the best hugs, not that she'd ever tell her other family members), she would never refuse.

She half-ran over to the bed and snuggled under the duvet before Tommy could change his mind. Cuddling into his side and letting the warmth envelope her, the siblings lay there in silence for a while, perfectly content.

As Y/N's eyelids began to flutter shut, she mumbled into her brother's chest a soft "Thank you, Tom," that he only just caught.

Tommy tightened his arms around his Y/N's frame in response and pressed a kiss to her hair. He turned out the light next to him as he felt his little sister's breaths even out, and whispered so that no one else could hear: "No, darling, thank you."

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sis #shelby sister #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #shelby!reader #shelby!sister #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine

727 notes · View notes

shadowsof-thenight · 3 years

Text

Reunited

Summary: It’s been 15 years since you’ve stepped foot in this school, but now you’re back and Sam is as charming as ever. (this takes place after AoU) Words: 4250 Ship: Sam Wilson x Reader Warnings: Fluff

*** A/N: I’ve been trying to finish a story for Sam for a while now. I hope you’ll like it! The amazing @gnomewithalaptop was my beta for this (like she is for pretty much everything I write) Thank you for all your hard work and kind words! I truly appreciate you.

***

Masterlist

*** You paused for a moment after stepping into the decked-out gym. It was hard to believe that 15 years had come and gone since you’d last had a party here. The room brought back so many memories, not all of which you cared to remember—though plenty had been well worth reminiscing. High school definitely hadn’t been all that bad. Glancing around the room, you recognised many familiar faces, and one in particular stood out. Perhaps it was because of the large group of people surrounding him, or his boisterous laughter resounding through the large open space. Either way, Sam Wilson stood out amongst the crowd, and his smiling face was enough to make you happy you had come.

The group of people currently surrounding him weren’t the people you’d both hung out with in school. This group mostly consisted of what had once been the popular crowd, now eager to drink up the buzz this man was creating. Then again, even if Sam hadn’t become an Avenger, they’d probably still be drawn to him. That’s how it had always been after all. There had always been something so incredibly captivating about him, and he definitely had the charm to back up the interest he sparked.

Another round of laughter over something Sam had said broke you out of the trance you’d found yourself in, and you mentally shook your head to stop yourself from staring any longer. It would soon become weird, possibly a little creepy. In an attempt to quiet the restless butterflies in your stomach, you smoothed out your red dress and took a deep breath. Then you stepped to the side of the entrance and accepted a name tag from the grumpy-looking lady that sat behind a large desk. She looked familiar, though it took you a minute to place her. Mrs. Broussard, the gym teacher that had never really warmed up to you.

She’d only started teaching at the school in your senior year, and by then you had given up any pretence that you enjoyed PE. She had been both surprised and annoyed by your lack of commitment, and many discussions had followed about the necessity of running a minute mile. And while you did receive a passing grade in the end, it was the lowest number on your list upon graduation.

You smiled sweetly as you greeted her and asked how she was doing. Mrs. Broussard only grumbled something in return and then gave her attention to the next arrivals, making you chuckle as you walked away. Honestly, she hadn’t been a bad teacher at all, just one that hadn’t understood others might not be as athletically inclined as she was.

Stepping further into the big square room, you looked around for a familiar face. Though you wanted to walk up to Sam, you hesitated to join the large group. It had been years since you’d last spoken, and you didn’t want to feel like an intruder in the ongoing conversation. Perhaps his newfound fame was a little intimidating. There was also no indication that he would remember you as fondly as you remembered him, and you wondered if he would even want to speak to you at all. You could almost hear your sister’s voice in the back of your mind, scolding you. She’d tell you to man up. He was here, which obviously meant he wanted to see his old school friends.

But, you didn’t man up and walked in another direction instead. Perhaps you could circle back around later on, or he’d find you—which would be even better. Less stressful. Grumbling at your own trepidation, you took a deep breath and plastered a smile on your face. It was time to mingle and if not with Sam, then certainly the wonderful women you’d spend most of your high school years with would do.

“Girrrrlll, you came!” Aurelia called out loudly at your approach. The slight slurring and her enthusiasm told you that she’d already gotten acquainted with the bartender. You chuckled and sped up a little to walk into her outstretched arms.

“How could I pass this up?” you said with a bright smile, your mood infinitely better with the reception your old friends offered.

Soon enough you were pulled into hugs by the other girls and introduced to the people they married—well, the ones that were there. Aurelia’s husband had had to pass, in order to stay with their two young children. Georgette had married her high school sweetheart Joe, who had been part of your group of friends. Hayley was still single, happily enjoying her life as tour guide. And Felicity and Trix were clearly still very much in love with each other. Trix had been a transfer student in your senior year and already out of the closet—it had been her confidence that had given Felicity the courage to come out as well. Each of them looked absolutely stunning in their evening attire, and they certainly appeared happy. Their upbeat demeanour was also enough to finally relieve you of the jitters. Coming alone had been a little scary after all these years. You’d lost touch with all these wonderful people, and you’d had no idea which of them would show up tonight.

“Come on, aren’t you all fancy now?” Trix asked with a wink, and you chuckled. After college, you were the only one that hadn’t come back to New Orleans. A choice you’d never thought twice about, as you’d found your dream job in DC. It wasn’t until you came back this week that you realised just how much you’d missed this city—it really was the most wonderful place on earth. Full of life, laughter and memories. It was like no other.

“Trust me, nothing fancy going on in DC,” you shrugged. Politics weren’t very glamorous for those involved, especially not as a lawyer. There were too many people that needed help hiding their checkered past. “Just very busy.”

“Now that I believe,” Aurelia chuckled.

“So how have you all been?” you asked, and you ended up spending the next hour or so getting caught up in all there was to know about the girls you’d called your friends all those years ago.

It surprised you how easy it was to fall back in step with them, and soon your stomach hurt from laughter instead of those uneasy jitters. You could finally fully relax. You’d missed this place, sure, but not quite as much as this group of people.

***

“A beer and a glass of water please,” you asked the bartender as you leaned on the bar with a smile. Joe had confiscated a tray of champagne, but you’d never acquired a taste for it and had decided on beer instead. Aurelia had opted for water, not wanting to get too drunk to enjoy their reunion.

“I thought I’d never get you alone,” Sam’s voice sounded from behind you. “It’s like high school all over again.”

“Well, it’s the place for it.” You smiled brightly and turned to face him. Quickly, you were engulfed in a tight hug and you could feel Sam’s laughter reverberate through his chest and yours.

“True,” he agreed, his lips close to your ear. Pulling back from the hug, his hands remained on your waist as he looked you over.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he said approvingly, going in for a second hug.

“You’re such a liar,” you chuckled, “but you look so good doing it.”

“Don’t I know it,” Sam said wiggling his eyebrows, and you barked out a laugh. It was good to know he was still who you had known him to be.

“Hey, would you stop hogging our celebrity!” Haley said loudly, her voice full of laughter, as she stepped up to the bar beside you. She ordered herself a soda and then turned back to the two of you. “For the two people that spend so long away from here, you do seem to fit right back in,” she added with a smile.

“It’s always going to be home,” Sam admitted and you smiled, nodding in agreement.

“Good, you should visit it more then. We miss you around here,” Hayley said earnestly and thanked the bartender for her drink, moving back towards the rest of the group. Taking your drink and Aurelia’s in hand, you and Sam followed her.

“Oh heavens be praised, another man,” Joe said dramatically and Sam laughed as they too hugged. Back in the day, their group had been pretty equally presented, but some of the other guys were standing with the rest of the football team. Probably reminiscing about their hay days.

***

“Who wants to sneak out of here?” Aurelia whispered, as if anyone outside of their group could hear them over the loud music. It had been a good two hours of chatting and Aurelia clearly wanted to spice things up.

“And go where?” Georgette wondered.

“I don’t know, see how much of the school has changed since we were last here,” Aurelia shrugged and you wiggled your eyebrows, excited to check out the school. For some reason, the fact that you weren’t supposed to made it very appealing—as if none of you had done any growing up these last 15 years. Everyone chuckled and the mood changed from carefree laughter into one of mischief.

Dispersing into smaller groups, you all stealthily tried to make your way towards the exit of the gym. It wasn’t going to be easy; Mrs. Broussard was still seated at her table by the door, and she had never been one to turn a blind eye. However, Sam promised he’d have that covered. After all, he’d been athletic and the woman had actually liked him. You promised to wait for him just outside the door.  Aurelia and Georgette held hands as they snuck past the table, Joe following them while laughing at their antics. You’d learned that Joe had been fast friends with Aurelia’s husband, and the two women were still very active in each other’s lives. For a split second, it had made you jealous—as you’d been so absent—but soon enough, they’d made you forget all about any distance that had existed between you. You remembered that one of their many talents had always been to connect people. Aurelia, much like Sam, drew people to her with her quick-witted and happy character, and Georgette had the biggest heart of all of them. You were actually sad that you weren’t able to meet Aurelia’s husband tonight, but she had made you promise to have lunch at her house tomorrow—an invitation you fully intended to follow up on.

Next were Felicity and Trix, who were giggling far too much to be covert. You had missed Hayley’s exit, though you were sure she’d be close to Georgette and Aurelia. None of that mattered though. Mrs. Broussard was too eagerly engaged in conversation with Sam—and you could tell that it had little to do with his status as Avenger. She seemed genuinely interested to hear how he had been doing. Before you snuck out yourself, you overheard them speaking of his time with the air force, a career choice her son apparently had made as well, having gone on his first tour only last month. Her proud smile softened you up to her a little more.

Hidden in the shadows down the hall from the gym, you waited impatiently for Sam to join you, and when he finally did, his smiling face made your heart skip a beat. It no longer surprised you—he’d always had that effect on you, though he had always been blissfully unaware of it.

For most of high school, you’d had a crush on the man before you, though nothing had ever come of it other than a chaste kiss on a drunken night, and you’d been too afraid of his response the following day to bring it up again.

When he hadn’t spoken of it either, you had simply brushed it off as a drunken adventure—one you did not regret one bit, even if it had sucked that nothing ever came of it. And while it should’ve surprised you that he still had this much effect on you after all these years of radio silence, it really didn’t. He was just that charming.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you into the dark hallway leading towards the classrooms in which you’d spent so many hours of your life.

“We never agreed on a place,” you suddenly realised and you both doubled over in suppressed laughter as you tried to remain quiet.

“So none of us got any smarter about our mischief?” Sam asked as you’d both straightened up again.

“Guess not,” you chuckled. “Why don’t we just wander for a bit? Surely we’ll run into the rest.”

He nodded in agreement, going left and pulling you with him.   “So, what’s DC like for you?” Sam asked after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“Busy mostly, lots of crazy situations to manage,” you said, shrugging.

“I can imagine,” Sam said almost solemnly, and you laughed. He looked at you with confusion.

“Come on, I’ve been doing clean-up for the situations you’ve already fixed,” you said, a little louder than intended, and you both glanced around to make sure you weren’t heard.

“Did I fix them though?” Sam wondered.

“Well, I do like my government organisations to be free of Nazis,” you said, keeping the tone light, though the message was very true.

“It’s still politics.” Sam shrugged. It was clear that nobody needed to tell him that there were a lot of lies involved in politics. And you could not deny it, or make the situation any better than it was.

“True, I doubt that’s ever going to be your scene, but every improvement is important,” you said, ready to break free of work talk. It’s been years since you spoke to Sam, outside of the occasional run in in DC. You felt horrible for not keeping up with him, while living in the same city. “Anyway, enough work talk—what’s life been like since your last tour?” you asked.

“Well, an adjustment for sure.” Sam said as he looked away from you and down the hallway to his right. “I needed a lot of time to get used to things again.”

“I can’t begin to imagine,” you said, looking at the floor in front of you. Perhaps this wasn’t the best direction you could’ve steered the conversation into.

“I got there in the end,” Sam said, a smile back on his face, “Your letters were nice.”

“I hated that I was overseas when you first came back. And then, by the time I’d returned, your life had taken a bit of a turn.”

“It did, but we’re here now, aren’t we,” Sam said, bumping your shoulder. His bright smile was enough to bring about a better atmosphere between you.

“Yes, here,” you chuckled and looked around you and pointed at the classroom to your right. “At history.” Fitting, you thought.

“We’ve got plenty of that,” Sam chuckled, the irony not lost on him either.

“I’ve missed it, this city, the people—you,” you admitted and Sam’s arm was quickly wrapped around your shoulders again.

“This place never does leave you, does it?” he said, looking off into the distance. Perhaps you weren’t the only one to miss it as much as you did.

“I for one wouldn’t want it to either,” you smiled.

“Remember the time we had detention in Mrs. Johnson’s classroom?” Sam asked with a wink and you chuckled. You’d all been caught sneaking into school grounds after hours and been kept after school for two weeks. You’d spent the last detention in your English classroom with Mrs. Johnson, who had been too busy to stick around. She’d been in and out of the room, leaving the lot of you time to have fun. Near the end of the first hour, Sam had decided to carve your initials into his desk—just his and yours. He had said it was because of the fact that you were both getting out after graduation—you’d need something to remember, something to come back too.

‘You think those tables are still there?” you asked, giddy at the idea.

“Let’s check it out,” Sam said, taking your hand in his and pulling you through the hallway towards the right hallway. Both of you were eager to see if your legacy was saved. So eager in fact, that neither of you really appreciated how well your hand fit in his. Not until later.

Two hallways down, you had almost reached your destination and you were nearly skipping to get there. Somehow you’d shed your more serious persona and reverted back to the happy-go-lucky person you used to be—before DC. You could hear voices in the distance and you chuckled at the idea that your friends were already there—Mrs. Johnson had been the only teacher that you'd all had together in your senior year. You were just about to call out when the voice of another person from your collective past boomed through the space.

“Miss Thibedeaux, Miss Cormier, you know better than to wander these halls after hours,” the voice of your old principal rang through the silent hallways. You hadn’t expected him and it startled you enough to freeze. Luckily, Sam quickly pulled you into a dark corner, his hand over your mouth just in case.

“Mr. Williams, we were just reminiscing,” Georgette replied, her voice bright and calm. She was always good at talking her way out of trouble. Not that there’d be much trouble, but for some reason these hallways brought back old habits. You were still hiding from the principal after all.

“Where’s the rest of your little group, Mrs. Thibedeaux?” Mr. Williams asked and Sam’s chest reverberated with the silent laughter he was struggling to keep in. Mr. Williams would not be fooled. The man had been as shrewd then as he was now.

“It’s just us,” Felicity answered for Georgette and you leaned to the side, just to see who’d gotten caught.

In the dim light of Mr. Williams' flashlight, you could see Georgette and her husband standing in the entrance of a classroom, while Trix and Felicity were still in the hallway and smiling brightly at the elderly man before them.

“Let’s go back to the gym and perhaps call your other friends to return as well,” Mr. Williams said with a smile. “There really is no reason to roam about the hallways, now is there?”

“What makes you think anyone else followed us?” Georgette tried innocently.

“Because I wasn’t quite as distracted as Mrs. Broussard,” Mr. Williams chuckled merrily, before waving his arm to lead the way back.

As they moved down the hallway, back to the busy gym, Sam took your hand in his and led you in the opposite direction. Looking over your shoulder, you locked eyes with Trix who waved and smiled, before turning back around.

“Do you want to go back?” Sam asked softly after a few minutes.

“Nope,” you said, popping the p. His hand was still wrapped around yours and you were enjoying the feeling, finally realising how natural it had been for him to grab it twice now. You froze again when footsteps echoed through the hallways a short distance away, and to the right, you could see flashlights coming in your direction.

“Though I do think we’re still sought-after,” you added, pointing towards the lights. Mischief grew in Sam’s eyes, and you chuckled with anticipation.

“It’s a good thing you already ditched the heels,” Sam said, before pulling you down another hallway at a sprint.

“Sam, dude, you know I’m not made for running,” you said, working hard to keep up with him—already breathing wrong.

“Just a little further,” he promised, sprinting down another hallway, before rounding a wall of lockers and pushing you up against the side of them. The flashlights swept the hallway you were in, but no footsteps came closer. Whoever had been holding the lights probably figured you’d run in the other direction. After all, this hallway brought you closer to the gym. It didn’t matter though; all that mattered was the close proximity in which you found yourselves now. Out of breath and still full of laughter, you stood chest to chest with Sam and it was having its effect on you.

Sam took a deep breath, leaning over your shoulder to put his forehead against the cool locker and you took a shaky breath yourself. He smelled nice—something fresh and minty, with a hint of pine. You wouldn’t mind taking a sniff, but again, that would be a little weird. Sam pulled his head back up once he’d gotten his breathing under control, though he remained pressed against you in the dark. His eyes found yours and the mirth was still all too clear in them, bringing a smile to your face again.

“I feel like I’m 16 again,” Sam whispered and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Really, because after that little sprint, I feel 80,” you whispered back.

“A beautiful 80-year-old though,” Sam said, his voice soft and genuine.

“Hmm, keep those compliments coming, and it might get you anywhere,” you chuckled, keeping the vibe light despite the heat that travelled to your cheeks at his words. Even flushed as you were from running and hiding out, he still called you beautiful—that would make any woman flustered, right? Surely it wasn’t just you.

His eyes flickered to your lips for a moment, and your breath hitched—perhaps that crush you’d had on him never really ended. It had just laid dormant all those years. Unconsciously, your eyes flickered to his lips as well and you licked your own in anticipation. Would they be as soft and gentle as they’d been all those years ago?

Sam audibly sucked in air, and your attention went back to his eyes, finding him already looking at you. The staring seemed to last for a few minutes at least, before Sam moved again.

“Beautiful,” he whispered and leaned in, slowly moving towards you—clearly giving you ample opportunity to stop him if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You wanted his lips to devour you, for his tongue to dance with yours and his hands to become oh so much more familiar.

His breath mingled with yours momentarily, and your head got foggy. You never wanted these feelings to end. And when his lips softly pressed to yours, the fog lifted in an explosion. Chaste, quick, gentle—much like all those years ago. And the effect was as devastating as it had been then. When he pulled back all too quickly, you needed a moment to catch your breath.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Sam whispered, and you finally opened your eyes again to look into his as you nodded. You had wanted it too, and you wanted to tell him so, but all your words seemed corny, and you didn’t want to break the spell you were under. So instead you acted—pressing your lips to his in a more eager kiss. One that showed him how much you had thought of it as well, or so you hoped.

His arms snaked their way around your waist, pulling you impossibly close as he responded to your kiss with an eagerness to match it. Heat rose from your stomach to your chest as your hands reached up to caress his cheeks, before going back down his back. All insecurity left you, and you surrendered to the tingling feeling that spread from your toes to your head. Sam pressed you harder against the locker, your bodies touching all over.

Despite the heated moment, the irony of it happening in your old high school wasn’t lost on you, and you nearly broke out in laughter over the silliness of it all. That was, until your heart nearly stopped altogether when a bright light shone in your eyes.   “Well, well—guess who’s been taking the time to catch up,” Aurelia’s voice rang through the air, and Sam reluctantly pulled back from you. He laid his head on your shoulder, while you squinted to look over his shoulder to see Aurelia and Hayley standing there with two Cheshire Cat smiles.

“Hi,” you said lamely, and they laughed as they finally lowered the flashlight they’d been aiming at you. Sam raised his head only to look into your eyes with an intensity that took your breath away. Heat settled in your stomach again as you stared back, and neither of you seemed to care that you had an audience now.

“Maybe buy her dinner first, dude,” Aurelia said loudly, voice full of laughter, and you chuckled, shaking your head. With a deep sigh, Sam stepped back from you finally. He took your hand in his and turned back to your old friends.

“So what’s the best place to do that these days?” he asked them, and Aurelia quickly stepped forward to high-five him.

“That’s more like it. Come on, let’s go find the others and get ourselves some good old fashioned late-night burgers,” Aurelia said, taking charge and walking towards the gym, certain the rest would follow.

#Sam Wilson x Reader #Sam Wilson Fanfiction #Marvel Fanfiction #Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson Fic

77 notes · View notes

interrogatethecat · 3 years

Text

four is a magic number

wc— about 1.6k

jack, my beloved 4 year old. happy birthday!!

On any given day, Jack was a bundle of energy. He was almost constantly brimming with excitement, pulling whoever was nearby off for some escapade or another. Hence why Cas wasn’t surprised when he woke up to a small body jostling the bed and small hands shaking his shoulder.

“Daddy! Dad, guess what?”

Cas grumbled something into his pillow. He loved Jack, but it was far too early to be awake.

“It’s my birthday!” Jack declared.

Next to him, Cas felt the bed shift as Dean sat up.

“It sure is, kid,” Dean said. “How old are you again?”

“Four!” Jack said.

“Four, huh? You’re getting old,” Dean teased, then added, “How do you feel about birthday pancakes?”

Jack’s grin widened. “Yeah!” Then, he started shaking Cas’ shoulder again with renewed importance. “C’mon, Daddy! Dad’s gonna make birthday pancakes!”

Cas mumbled something into his pillow along the lines of, “That’s great, Jack.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “I think Daddy needs a little more sleep.”

The shaking stopped. “But isn’t he excited?” Jack asked, a little more subdued. “It’s my birthday and you’re making birthday pancakes.”

“He’s very excited,” Dean said, “He just needs his coffee.”

“Oh,” Jack said, nodding seriously. “If we make him his coffee will he come in for birthday pancakes?”

“Yup,” Dean said. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’ head before pulling back to stand up.

“Can I give Daddy a kiss, too?”

There was a small, soft smile on Dean’s face. “Sure.”

Jack pecked the same spot on Cas’ head where Dean had kissed him. “There’s your kiss, Daddy.”

“Alright,” Dean said. “Let’s let Daddy sleep now. You ready for those pancakes?”

Jack cheered and scrambled off the bed. He grabbed Dean’s hand and dragged him out of the room, presumably in the direction of the kitten.

on ao3 here, or continued under the cut.

Cas took another fifteen minutes or so before following them.

Jack was propped up on the kitchen counter, legs swinging as he watched Dean mix the batter. When he caught sight of Cas, he beamed.

“‘Morning, Daddy!” He pointed towards the coffee machine. “I helped Dad make you your coffee. He let me sit on the counter!”

“I see that,” Cas said, moving towards the coffee, but not before giving Jack a small smile and saying, “Happy Birthday.” He was in the midst of pouring himself a mug when two arms wrapped around his waist.

“Sleep well, Sunshine?” Dean pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“I did.” Cas put down the coffee to turn around and peck Dean on the lips.

Jack giggled from his perch.

Dean rolled his eyes. “What is it, Jack?”

“You an’ Daddy are being cute,” Jack said. “Claire says it’s gross.”

“Don’t listen to Claire,” Dean said, moving back towards the stove. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Dean,” Cas scolded lightly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“But she’s older than me,” Jack reasoned.

“Yeah, but I’m older than her.” Dean began to pour batter onto the griddle.

“And I’m much older than both of you,” Cas reminded Dean, “and Jack can listen to Claire.”

Dean grumbled, but didn’t argue.

“Can I tell you a secret, though, Jack?”

Jack leaned forward eagerly. “Uh-huh!”

“Claire is cute with Kaia a lot,” Cas said, winking conspiratorially.

That set off another fit of giggles.

Dean shook his head fondly. “You’re a dork, Cas.”

Cas took another drink, smiling. “You love me for it.”

“True.” Dean flipped the pancakes, offered Cas a grin, then turned to Jack. “So, birthday boy, what do you wanna do today?”

It was all incredibly domestic and Cas could hardly believe it. There they were, him, Dean, and Jack, celebrating a birthday. Sam, Eileen, Garth, Bess, Jody, Donna, and the girls were all set to come over in a few short hours. A year ago, they had been, yet again, trying to prevent an apocalypse, but now…

“Cake!” Jack said.

“I think cake sounds like a good idea,” Cas agreed.

Now, it was nice to see them all so happy. Not quite carefree, but not constantly looking over their shoulders. Getting to have— getting to enjoy— these little moments.

“And presents,” Jack added.

“We can do that after everyone else gets here,” Cas promised.

“Actually,” Dean said, piling a stack of pancakes onto a plate, “I have one present that you can open before everyone shows up.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Cas squinted at Dean. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. There was a satisfied shine to his eyes. “But first… birthday pancakes!” He set the plate on the table with a flourish.

Cas set down his mug and moved to help Jack off the counter.

The moment Jack’s feet touched the floor, he was racing over to the table, taking in the stack of pancakes, topped with a generous amount of whipped cream and four brightly colored candles.

“What do you say to your dad, Jack?” Cas prompted gently.

“Thank you, Dad!” Jack looked at them hopefully. “Can I blow out the candles?”

Dean ruffled his hair. “Go ahead, kid. Make a wish.”

Jack grinned. He blew out the candles without hesitation, then started on the pancakes.

Cas turned to Dean curiously. “What did you get him?”

Dean winked at him. “You’ll see.”

With Dean, that could mean any number of things. Before Cas was able to wonder and figure out what, Dean was back at the stove and calling over his shoulder, “I’ll have your breakfast ready next, angel.”

Between forkfuls, Jack launched into a story about how yesterday at school, they found a frog under the slide and named it Toad. Apparently, their teacher let them bring the frog inside to keep as a class pet.

The story went on until after they were all finished eating and Jack hopped up from the table. Bouncing with excitement, he asked, “Can I open my present now?”

Dean stood. “Follow me. You too, Cas.”

Jack was right on Dean’s heels as he led them back to his and Cas’ room.

Cas’ confusion only grew. They weren’t keeping Jack’s presents in here— they had stashed them in the laundry room; Jack never went in there. While Jack wasn’t in here consistently, he would likely notice if they tried hiding them here.

Dean put a hand on the knob of the closet door before pausing. “Alright. Both of you, eyes closed.”

Jack perked up. “Are you giving Daddy a present, too?”

“I am,” Dean said, “but not until both of you close your eyes.”

Jack screwed his eyes shut. “They’re closed!”

Cas looked Dean over suspiciously. “Dean—“

“Just close ‘em, Cas.”

“Yeah!” Jack agreed. “Close ‘em!”

They were both excited— Jack was hardly able to stand still, and Dean just barely refraining from opening the closet.

With one last squint in Dean’s direction, Cas complied.

The door creaked quietly as it opened. There was some rustling as Dean shifted through its contents, then—

“Open!”

Dean stood in front of them grinning widely, a cowboy hat in each hand, as well as one on his head.

Jack rushed over, grinning just as radiantly when Dean put the smaller of the two hats on him.

“I get to be a cowboy!” he exclaimed.

“We all get to be cowboys,” Dean corrected. He held up the other hat. “Well, oh-partner-of-mine, what do you say?”

Cas sighed. He recognized it from a case years ago, where Dean had claimed it would help them “blend in with the locals.” Despite his reasoning, Cas still had a strong suspicion that that hadn’t been the real reason Dean had convinced him to dress up.

“You’re ridiculous,” Cas told him, eyes crinkling fondly.

“No, he’s a cowboy,” Jack corrected.

Dean dropped the hat onto Cas’ head. “The birthday boy is right,” he said, evidently pleased. “Now we’ve gotta get a picture.”

Cas felt just as absurd in his hat, sweatpants, and t-shirt as he had on that case wearing the hat and his trench coat. Same as on the case, he couldn’t refuse.

After Dean had fished his phone out of his nightstand and crowded the three of them together for the picture, Cas moved to pull the hat off.

Jack shook his head vehemently. “No! You hafta keep it on so we can show Uncle Sammy!”

Dean poorly attempted to conceal a laugh when Cas accepted defeat and replied, “Of course, Jack.”

“Awesome!” Jack said. “Can we have cake now?”

“Later, buddy,” Dean assured him. He slung an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “Let’s wait for everyone else before that.”

Jack frowned, then perked back up. “Can we go outside and look for frogs? Toad is probably lonely without a friend.”

“I’m sure he is,” Cas said. “We can go look for frogs.”

Jack grinned. “Race you!” He took off, cowboy hat falling over his face as he ran. He pushed it back up as he hurried out of sight.

Cas looked over at Dean. “Did you get him that for him or for you?”

“For him,” Dean insisted. “We’re starting his education early.”

Cas wasn’t quite sure if he believed him, but he nodded. “I can see that.”

“Dad! Daddy! Are you coming?” Jack poked his head around the doorframe.

“We’re coming,” Cas said. “We were just talking.”

“Okay,” Jack said, grabbing their hands. “Now let’s go!”

As Jack pulled them along, Cas turned to Dean to ask, “Did you make the cake?”

Dean froze. “Shi— shoot.” He tugged on Jack’s hand to get him to stop and crouched down so they were level. “Hey, kid. I’ve gotta make your cake real quick. Can I come join you and Daddy outside in a little bit?”

The four year old considered it, then decided, “No.”

Dean and Cas shared a confused look.

“Why not?” Dean asked.

“I’m gonna help you make the cake!” Jack announced. “Then we can all go outside together.”

An hour and a half later, Cas felt even more ridiculous, covered from head to toe in flour, cowboy hat included.

Jack’s smile was infectious and worth it.

tags: @epizkey-saltnpepperdean @earthboundangel @top13zepptraxx @destiel-is-canon-i-guess @fellshish @gayhuckleberryinatrenchcoat @https-castiel @holmesemrys @linaraiscorner @castielsbeeslippers

#happy birthday jack #my favorite small child #jack kline #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #deancas #casdean #supernatural #spn #my writing #my fic

40 notes · View notes

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

188 notes · View notes

now-im-a-belieber · 3 years

Note

Ooh! Can I request some Liebgott with the prompt “of course it meant something”? Pretty please?

prompt: "of course it meant something."

joe liebgott x reader

a/n: thank you kindly for sending somethin' in luv! idfk what this is but, here have it!

══════════════════

You weren't sure where they'd found all the booze. But it flowed through the night as the sun left the sky. The company's spirits brightened the inky night and you were delighted to have taken part in the celebration.

The promise of home was about to be made. The practice of polishing guns had been forgotten. And there was nothing to do, truly, besides, enjoy the last bit of time you were left with alongside the men with whom you'd made it this far.

One drink down and a bubbly haze coloured your vision as you admired your friends mucking about the parlour of the cottage you'd all been staying in. By morning you'd all up and leave like you gotten so good at doing. Only this time you'd each be going your separate ways... heading wherever home was.

It should've been more exciting. You should've joined in with everyone listing off their big plans, dreaming up dreams to make true. But you didn't want to think about what was next. You couldn't think of what was just ahead. Maybe that was a terrible habit you'd picked up somewhere back in between foxholes. But the same dread settled in your gut as thoughts of the near future came to mind. You swallowed another drink of liquor and cast your gaze to the company laughing together; sitting just on the outskirts to admire the scene.

Malarkey looked happy. Not as carefree as he had at the start of your knowing him. But far less plagued by darkness than he'd appeared not so long ago. His chuckles set your soul at ease, to know they were genuine.

Lipton looked tired. And you couldn't help but smile. He'd been tired for a while. But he was finally relaxed enough to let it show. You leaned closer to the armchair he'd slumped into and suggested he head to bed, saying he deserved rest more than anyone here.

Skip should've been here. Penkala too. You missed everyone who used to decorate spaces with their smiles and pass time with dumb jokes. And then you realized that very soon you'd miss everyone here just as well. Each man you'd come to know since the start of all this was about to become nothing more than a memory.

The thought ambushed your mission to remain steadfast to the moment. You sucked in a breath in hopes of washing away the dread that only seemed to cast darker shadows over your disposition. It was becoming a struggle to remain ever-present in the party that was in full swing by now.

And in a way, it seemed the party was only just beginning. Luz had made his way to stand on the coffee table, raising a glass to make his fourth toast of the hour- this time, to the sight of Martin carrying another set of bottles into the room. Some cheers and claps followed and the sound of collective mirth only served as a reminder that this was all really over.

"Maybe you're the one who needs some rest, huh?" Lipton's voice resonated in your ear as soon as the feeling of his hand on your shoulder did. And you realized your irrational fears had conjured up a sheen of tears you hadn't yet let fall but clouded your gaze evidently enough.

"I'm just gonna miss you guys is all." You shrugged the shoulder where his hand still rested, and his fingers squeezed tighter at your confession, as some kind of condolence. The lieutenant's gentle manner was interrupted then, by someone with a starkly enigmatic mien.

"Are you cryin'?" Joe asked in his usually distinctive tone, words strung together by drink. You couldn't help but chuckle, at the way he'd asked what he'd asked.

Joe abandoned the half-empty bottle in his grasp on a table just near and moved closer to you with a determination that made your heart skip a beat. Drunk or sober, you'd never been able to help the way you'd felt about Joe. Not to say you'd ever let your feelings so obviously show.

Lipton leaned away from you then, pretending to spark up a conversation with someone passing by. While Joe knelt in front of where you sat, biting back your feelings that were beginning to brew into one big dangerous storm of emotion.

You really couldn't afford to have Joe so close, tonight. You couldn't look right in his eyes, like you wanted. You could only stare at the hand he dared to place on your knee; as he cocked his head to try and see your face you attempted to hide away.

"Don't cry." He suggested through a smile, nearly letting a snicker escape too. This was what caused you to finally look up, to search his face in an attempt to place if he was making jest of your plight, or if he was really just that drunk. The latter seemed true, with the way Joe's eyes blinked slow and searched your own past a vitreous sheen.

"Don't cry." He repeated again in a whisper much more assured. The grin on his face dying away as his eyes stayed glued on yours. Funny, how his command did settle something within you, yet made you want to burst into tears all the same. You'd miss him most of all.

A faint few flashes of the days you'd plan your weekend passes together and the nights you shared beds of dirt flickered in the back of your mind, as you suddenly realized how close Joe was to you now. And like he knew you were thinking of broadening the space between the two of you, he closed it.

The press of Joe's lips against yours was a shock to your system. All your dread and fear halted as you processed what was happening. His kiss was brief and quick but not at all void. You knew it came from a place of well-meaning, somehow, but still; it wasn't right.

When he moved away, opening the space that belonged between the pair of you and kneeling further till his eyes met yours again, you were done for. All those feelings that had been halted by Joe's kind gesture flooded back tenfold and you couldn't hide the rush of tears any longer. You brushed away his hand, stood, and bolted for the nearest exit.

You thought you heard Joe ask you to wait up. You nearly ran into Bull on your dash away, and ignored his worried asking what the matter was.

"Okay, no more drinking," You heard Lipton declare, "It’s everybody's bedtime!" You heard a few chuckles and whines following his announcement just before you'd made it to the hall. You kept up your swift hurry with a hand shielding your tears and only let yourself start to lose it when you reached the room that belonged to you.

This wasn't how things were supposed to end. You were supposed to be glad for new beginnings. But everything you couldn't have seemed to suddenly plague you. Everything you'd tell yourself you'd worry about later, in the midst of the mission after mission; came bubbling up. You cried for one dozen reasons and let yourself keep on till your eyes grew heavy. Maybe by morning, you'd be able to move on, because you had to anyway.

///

You awoke early enough to be the first. Glad for the extra time to stroll toward the waterfront, and breath in some of the fresh morning air.

It was a new day. But it felt the same as so many others. You knew there were only hours left to spare in this chapter of your life. Yet you were still plagued by things that had and had not happened. You were still here.

You looked across the still blue lake and the soft green trees and listened to the dock creek under your feet, as it balanced and bobbed in the water. These were the things that calmed you. These were certainties. The colour of the trees and the rising of the sun. But then there were steps sounding on the dock you hadn't expected, and while it obstructed your state of taking in the scenery, you weren't surprised to be interrupted. You'd come to expect the unexpected over these years.

You turned from the end of the doc to find Joe lingering near the boards secured to the land. He looked vastly different from the night before, more put together, less wasted. He took a step closer as you cast your eyes to his feet, unsure of what to say to him, or how to act. Only a week before and you would've been able to trade chatter about your next mission or duty of the day. But now there was none of that sort of conversation to fall back on. There were only questions you'd never dreamed of asking, but one you knew was about to be addressed.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night." Joe started. You hadn't expected him to apologize. You hadn't even really wanted him too. And the fact that he did was the nail in the coffin that housed your trepidation. You bit your lip and turned away, holding back what you really wanted to say.

But Joe noticed your befuddled expression and apparently wasn't keen to let you sulk in silence. He stepped ever closer, the sound of his strides more assured as he asked what the matter was.

"I said sorry, what more can I do, huh? I didn't mean to upset you, you gotta know that-"

"I always wanted you to kiss me." You blurted, not quite facing him. Not quite meaning to expose your feelings either. But the regret that came after you spoke was distant, as a much stronger emptiness filled your gut. Everything was already over. Might as well have gone on confessing... "Only, you were drunk. So it didn't mean anything. And I'm upset because I wish it did...mean something."

You'd never spoken like this to Joe. You'd only ever traded jokes, or jabs or game plans. And now you were an hour from leaving him behind. This was the last of your knowing each other, and a silence followed your statement that brought back to life the regret you'd only just cast away.

Your heart ached and your eyes stung as you turned to face the water once more, the boards of the dock creaked and the sheer thought of Joe walking away was enough to make you break down. But then his voice called, just over your shoulder, stealing away your sorrows like his closeness had only the night before.

"Of course it meant something." Joe's voice demanded, thick with emotion you'd never heard him display.

When you turned your head and then your shoulders to face Joe and cast him a curious glare, the only way you could ask all the questions jammed in your head at once; he leaned in and kissed you again.

His hands held either side of your face as his lips pressed to yours with all the kind tenderness he'd displayed last night, and a new sort of urgent determination. You wised up to kissing Joe back, and thought of nothing but exactly that for what felt like forever.

He was the one to stop, to pull away and meet your eyes. His hands held your face, still, as his brow furrowed, and a small smile bloomed. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he seemed to take in the rest of your face. You stood entirely mesmerized by the man, like you always had been, only finally letting it show. That's when the sound of distant car doors slamming, and engines roaring to life sounded over the hill and past the trees you'd come out to admire one last time.

"Come on." Joe seemed to decide, letting his hands fall away, till one met yours. "Let's go home."

Joe laced his fingers through yours and led you away from the dock, toward the rest of the company starting to leave. And when thoughts of the future you'd soon be heading into started to flash through your mind, you welcomed them.

#band of brothers #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #joe liebgott imagine

115 notes · View notes

krreader · 4 years

Text

BTS scenario → you being upset after planning for a trip doesn’t go as planned.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language genre: angst ; fluff word count: 1.2k+

a/n: hey love, I hope this is what you wanted ♥

kim seokjin

You had given him an entire list of destinations to go for your anniversary. That's how much research you had done on it.

For him to just shrug and say: “Pick one, I don't care.”

And maybe he didn't mean it like that, but fuck, that made it sound like he didn't even want to go. That, mixed with the fact that he hadn't helped you look into this at all.

“You know what, Jin? Screw this,” you threw the piece of paper on the ground, “If you don't want to go, then we won't. But next time you're bailing out on plans we made months ago, do me a favor and tell me before I put all that effort into something that I thought you wanted as well.”

It was a misunderstanding, one that he cleared up on that same day, but still, if he had just paid a little more attention and listened, then this fight wouldn’t have been necessary in the first place.

min yoongi

You were going in circles here, fighting about why Yoongi suddenly didn't care about this upcoming birthday trip anymore, when the simple answer was that you put too much effort into it and Yoongi hadn’t been too happy about the idea from the start because of how much work he had.

But that wasn't your fault. He should have said something.

And ultimately, he realized it when he let out a defeated sigh, “I'm sorry, (Y/N). Really.. the vacation in general is a good idea, just.. not now.”

You were tired of this argument that you could have pushed further, but instead you sighed as well and sat down on the couch next to him, “It's never a good time for anything, Yoongi.. I just wanted you to be carefree for a weekend.”

“And that means more to me than you know,” he smiled and reached for your hand, interlinking your fingers with his, “One day, sweetheart. One day, we can be as carefree as we want to be.”

jung hoseok

“If you don't want to go anymore, just tell me..”

“That's not it, (Y/N),” Hoseok let out a sigh and gently pulled on your hand for you to sit next to him, “I want to go so badly, but the only one who's going to go somewhere will be me. Everyone else will stay here. They say they'll take time for themselves, but I know my members. I know they're all going to secretly work on the next album and I'd feel bad if all of them do except for me.”

“It's not your responsibility to do what others do, Hoseok. If they decide to stay and work, then you can't change anything.”

“You're right, I can't change anything. But I can help them.”

Maybe being upset wasn't okay, but you've put so much effort into planning this trip for your anniversary that you couldn't help but be incredibly sad when none of it ever happened due to him feeling bad for leaving his members alone.

This really wasn't at all what you had hoped for, for your fifth anniversary.

kim namjoon

The reason Namjoon even brought up the trip in the first place was because he thought this would be a good opportunity to finally ask you to marry him with that ring he bought seven months ago.

And you got so excited for your first vacation in ages, that you instantly started to plan, without ever taking into consideration that it wasn't so easy for Namjoon to plan so far ahead.

And now, after you put so much effort into it and he barely contributed, it finally came to what he expected it to.

He didn't have time.

“Is that why you didn't help me plan?”

“I thought if I did you might become more excited,” he sighed.

“Why didn't you just tell me to stop, then?”

“I want to go there, the planning wasn't useless. Just.. not now. Maybe in a few months. And then we can do all that stuff that you wrote down.”

And maybe he could finally ask you to marry him then.

park jimin

At first, it was supposed to be a surprise, but it's hard planning a surprise with Jimin's schedule, so you had to tell him about it eventually.

A trip to Jeju for his birthday, just a weekend with nothing but relaxation and the likes.

He seemed to be excited at first, but then that excitement died down.

And it was only by accident that you realized why, “Ah, you're so kind, hyung,” Jimin was on the phone, smiling sadly, “But I won't be here on the weekend, my girlfriend wants to take me to Jeju. But I would have loved to celebrate with you all, really.”

He probably didn't mean to make it sound like spending the weekend with you was so bad compared to spending it with his friends, but with the fact that he didn't seem happy about it anymore, you ended up canceling the trip a few days later and called his friends to tell them to throw Jimin that surprise party after all.

He was surprised.. but mostly surprised that you weren't there.

kim taehyung

Yes, going from South Korea to Europe wasn't a short trip, but you wanted you two to spend your anniversary someplace where you hoped nobody would recognize him. You wanted him to spend a few days in utter peace.

And Taehyung was so freaking excited about that thought at first, being able to hold hands with his girl out in public with nobody taking pictures of him.. he loved it.

But the closer the anniversary came, the less he talked about it.

You knew it was because of how busy he was and that going to Europe now would not be relaxing, but stressful as hell, because he'd have so much work when he'd come back.

And yes, you were upset. Not at him, but at the world for not giving him even a week to breathe properly.

And so instead of spending your vacation in Europe on your anniversary, you brought Europe to him in the form of a dinner at home.

It wasn't what you truly wanted, but you hoped it would be something..

“I love you,” he let out a breath and dropped his bag, immediately making his way over to you and hugging you so tight that you knew he didn't dare to lean back, otherwise you'd see the tears pooling in his eyes.

jeon jeongguk

Jeongguk never wanted to hurt you.

After all, he was the one that brought it up. Spending your birthday somewhere else, that'd be his birthday present this year.

And you knew that something was wrong when he stopped helping you with the research on where to go and stuff, but you didn't think he'd have to cancel the whole thing.

And worse..-

“What do you mean a concert?”

“It's a surprise one. They scheduled some more so more fans can have the chance to get a ticket.”

So not only did you not go on that trip that you had been so excited about, but he wouldn't even be there for your birthday.

“Okay..”

Because what else could you say? There was nothing you could do anyways.. there never was.

#bts imagine #bts reaction #bts scenario #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan reaction #bangtan boys #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #bangtan sonyeondan #reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan boys x reader #requests

307 notes · View notes

capitainelevi · 3 years

Text

Togetherness

Prompt for @rivetra-week: Harmony

Words: 3481

There was no sign of her today. Levi wondered once again who she was and why she was haunting his dreams. He couldn`t even remember her name anymore. But Levi knew he missed her. He felt himself drifting to sleep and closed his eyes.

"Happy birthday, Levi!"

Gabi and her family entered Levi`s room with a small cake, but he didn`t seem to notice their presence. Levi was gazing out the window, and his favorite love song was playing on the phonograph in the background. Gabi and Falco gifted it to him on his birthday 39 years ago, and it was still in perfect condition. They noticed the way Levi`s eyes lit up when he saw one in a display window, but they knew he would never spend money on something other than tea leaves and cleaning products. With their allowances, they were able to buy it in time for his birthday, and Levi scolded them for wasting money on him. But they knew he loved the gesture.

Falco got close to him and slowly shook his shoulder. "Levi, did you hear us?"

Levi just stared at them. His dementia was getting worse every day. When they started to notice the first signs, they forced him to see a doctor. When they heard his diagnosis, Levi just told them to take him to a nursing home. But they prepared the guest bedroom for him the next day. Levi was family, and their daughter was more than ecstatic to have him live with them.

"It`s your birthday today. It`s Christmas day, do you remember?"

Levi`s sight focused on the window again, and they wondered if he forgot about their presence already.

"Where is she?"

Falco stared at Gabi, unsure of what to say. When his disease worsened, Levi started talking about a woman. He started asking for her almost daily. Gabi and Falco sat down and tried to figure out who it could be, but Levi never had any lovers as far as they knew. They started to wonder if she was real.

Gabi smiled at him- "She should be here soon. Do you want to come downstairs and celebrate with us while you wait?"

Levi nodded, and Falco helped him get downstairs in front of the fireplace. Gabi and her daughter went to the kitchen to light the candles on the small cake they baked together.

"We should have added 81 candles."- Sofia pouted.

Gabi pinched her cheek, and she yelped in protest- "Then you should have helped me bake a bigger cake."

"Who do you think she was?"

Gabi shrugged and took the cake in her hands- "Maybe his lover, who knows? We don`t know much about his life before Marley."

They made their way back to the living room, and after he blew out the candles, Sofia hurried to get the presents from under the Christmas tree. She gave Levi one of the gifts, and he ruffled her hair. Levi tore the wrapping paper and smiled at the sight of his favorite tea leaves. No matter how poor his memory was getting, his love for tea was unscathed.

When it got dark, Falco took Levi back to his room. He helped Levi get back in his armchair for the night and turned on the music for him. He still preferred to sleep in a chair.

Levi woke up abruptly. He was lying on his back, with the sun blinding his sight. Levi used his right hand to cover his eyes... wait, he thought. He was met by something he hadn`t seen in dozens of years. His fingers were all intact. More than that, his skin wasn`t worn out by age anymore.

How odd, he thought. Levi couldn`t remember much these days, but something felt off. Did he dream it all? Being Humanity`s Strongest Soldier? The war? Getting old?

He found himself lying in the middle of a field, and Levi took a moment to cherish all the sensations. It had been years since he felt so carefree. He missed the feeling of the grass against his fingertips as he ran his hand through it, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the breeze on his skin. Levi turned his head to the side and spotted a small cottage in the distance. He used to have dreams of one before old age claimed his memories. He dreamt of the smell of freshly baked muffins and the sound of children playing in the backyard. The best ones were of her sitting on his lap on a lazy afternoon. Yes, Petra. He could remember her name now.

"Welcome home, Captain."

The voice he yearned to hear for so many years startled him, and Levi rose to his feet abruptly. His mouth went dry, and he could not seem to get a word out. Petra was as beautiful as the first moment he laid his eyes on her. Among the recruits, a small girl with fire in her eyes captured his attention.

Petra wore a long, white lace dress, with a beautiful embroidery decorating its length. She had a single white rose in her crown braid, but Levi`s attention was fixed on the shy smile she gave him. Oh, how he missed her. His memory, plagued by the passing of time, did not do her beauty justice.

"Am I..."

Petra gave him a sad smile before cutting him off.

"Dead? Yes, I`m afraid so. You died in your sleep on your 80th birthday."

Levi sat down on the grass, taking a moment to process it all. He felt confused, half-convinced it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

"I thought this was a dream."

Petra sat down on the grass next to him. She took his hand in hers, and he squeezed it back. She made small circles on his skin with her thumb in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

"If it were, would it be a bad one?"

"No," Levi answered without giving it a second thought. Dream or afterlife, he could never be bothered about getting to share it all with her.

"I thought it would be different. I didn`t feel anything. No fear, no pain."

Petra took his hand and placed it on her lap. She could feel where the conversation would be going next, and she didn`t want Levi to torment himself anymore.

Levi averted his eyes from hers. He felt a lump forming at the back of his throat, and he barely got out a whisper- "You died at such a young age. Did you..."

Petra interrupted him again. She cupped his face in her hands and turned his sight back to her.

"I was paralyzed by fear. I didn`t feel anything, I swear. It was quick."

She could see the disbelief in his eyes, but she kept going.

"I... I wish I had more time there. But we can`t fool fate, can we?"

Levi closed his eyes, still tormented by regret. He took one of her palms, and he placed a small kiss on it.

"I couldn`t get justice for you. For the guys. I`m sorry."

Petra threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. Levi wrapped his arms around her, and Petra gave a smile at how much he was holding onto her."

"We didn`t want you to. There was so much hate already. What happened to us... it wasn`t your fault, Captain."

Levi sighed in relief, happy he got her forgiveness nonetheless. He ran his hand up and down her back, wishing time stood still for a moment.

Petra pulled away from him, and Levi could see the faint tears in her eyes. But the smile she gave him melted his worries away.

Levi cleared his throat before speaking- "You`re gonna get it dirty."

Petra frowned, confused at where the conversation was going.

"The dress. It`s white, what did you expect?"

Petra burst into laughter, throwing herself on the ground. She swore she could see Levi`s eye twitch at the gesture.

"I`m serious, Petra. Grass stains are a bitch to get rid of."

She took his hand in hers again, tempted to pull him down next to her.

Petra batted her eyelashes at him- "I`m sure you`ll get them out for me."

He flicked her forehead, and she gave a small yelp in protest.

"You wish, brat."

Petra turned on her stomach, and she looked up at him with a big smile on her face while her hands cupped her cheeks. She said in the sweetest voice she could manage- "I know you can`t help yourself, sir."

Levi sighed and laid down next to her. "Fine, you win. But you`re still a brat."

Petra giggled, and she moved closer to him. She placed her head in the crook of his neck, and her fingers started fidgeting with one of his shirt`s buttons.

"I`ve missed you, Levi. I`ve been waiting for you."

Levi put his arm around her and he pulled her closer to him. "I`m sorry you had to wait for so long."

Petra shook her head at his response.

"Time passes differently here, I didn`t mind. Plus, I had company. Everyone visits from time to time."

Levi felt anxious at the thought of seeing everyone again. He hoped he didn`t disappoint any of them in the end.

As if reading his mind, Petra turned his face towards hers, and she ran her finger along his cheek. "Don`t worry, they can`t wait to come to visit."

Petra was only met with silence.

"We all get together on your birthday to celebrate. Erwin, Hange, the guys, and the rest of our friends." She gave a smile. "I guess everyone loved you. We eat cake, we drink tea, and we share our stories about you." Petra gave a small laugh- "Now that I think about it, we should have cleaned too."

Levi chuckled, and Petra was surprised to see a smirk forming on his face.

"You all do a piss poor job anyway."

Petra kicked him playfully in the shoulder, and he pulled her close to him again.

"There were also some interesting people from your past that I got to meet and become close to."

"Who..."

"Isabel is the sweetest girl."

Levi felt tears forming in his eyes when he heard that name. After she died, he tried to remember her the way she used to be: cheerful, optimistic, loud, and most importantly, happy. But images of the people he cared about devastated by death still haunted his memories, up until he started to lose them.

"She and Farlan come to visit me weekly. They help me around the garden. Did you know Farlan has a green thumb?"

Levi missed them both dearly. They taught him a lesson he cherished until his life ended: that family isn`t always blood.

"Isabel`s big appetite always leaves my pantry empty. After we finish gardening, she and Farlan help me prepare lunch and bake dessert. We always have to fight with Isabel over a piece of it."

"Eld, Gunther, and Oluo are always pestering me, of course. Just when I`m having a relaxing, good day, I hear loud knocks on my front door." Petra looked up at him and smiled.

"Even in death, I can`t get some time away from them!"

Levi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You love them."

Petra sighed and gave a small laugh- "Yeah, of course, I do. They are family, after all. My life would be so dull without their antics."

"I can tell you it is. I found myself wishing I could hear Eld tell the story of how you pissed yourself on your first mission one more time."

"He still tells it all the time!"

Petra felt a bit anxious about what was on her mind, and she told him in a low voice- "Your mom is an amazing woman."

Levi gasped, both scared and impatient to see her again. She had always been on his mind, the pain of losing her so soon following him all his life. He hoped she wouldn`t judge him for the hard choices he had to make. He did what he had to do to survive, but Levi felt he was disrespecting her memory from time to time. His mother had been nothing but kind, and Kenny almost managed to murder the values she tried to instill in him.

"She came to visit me when I got here. We`ve gotten pretty close over the years. She and your uncle come for tea sometimes." Petra gave a small laugh- "He scares me though, I`m sorry. He pulls a ridiculous number of knives out of his sleeves!"

Levi had a complicated relationship with Kenny. But after he passed away, Levi started to forgive him, to understand what he was trying to do for him.

"Your mother is very proud of you, Levi. She can`t wait to see you."

Levi didn`t know how to answer her words, so he tried to avoid the subject.

"How about your old man?"

Petra sighed, and she turned her sight to the sky.

"Papa was mad at me when he first got here. For dying so young, for missing out on so many opportunities. But he loves me too much to stay mad at me, of course. He and mama are reunited now, so I`m glad they`re happy again."

"You know, I got to meet him once."

Petra covered her eyes with her arm, embarrassed to be relieving this moment again.

"He embarrassed me so much! I wanted to come back just for the sole reason to stop him from running his mouth!"

Levi averted his eyes from her- "I feel like neither of us would have been bothered by that."

Petra bit her lip, the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She didn`t want to ruin this reunion with her tears, though she knew Levi wouldn`t mind.

"I wish I could have been there by your side. To help you watch over the kids."

"Over the brats, you mean."

Petra laughed at his correction- "They weren`t that bad, Captain. They all loved you."

There was a silence in the air, as neither of them wanted to talk about what Eren did.

"I wish I could see the sea."

Levi wished that for her as well.

"I wish I could have felt the waves against my legs. To run my fingers through the sand, to feel how soft it is. I wanted to taste the water as well, to see how salty it truly is."

Levi squirmed at the thought- "Are you crazy? Like I would ever let you do something so stupid!"

Petra pouted, but Levi held his position- "Fine, have it your way."

Petra whispered- "I`m sorry you had to go through so much."

"It was alright in the end. I had two annoying brats to keep me busy."Levi appreciated everything Gabi and Falco did for him, considering them his family over the years.

Petra barely listened to him, too lost in her thoughts- "I`m so sorry I had to leave so soon. I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to support you, to be a shoulder for you to cry on when you needed it."

Levi turned his head towards hers and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I don`t cry, silly."

"But you did. The night you lost us."

Levi felt his throat tightening, not expecting to hear that response from her. He barely whispered- "Did you see that?"

Petra just nodded, and a single tear rolled down her cheek when she squeezed her eyes shut.

"You taught me to live without regret, Levi. But I did die with one."

Petra raised to her knees and kept her head down, gathering the courage to speak the words she`d been longing to tell him for more than 40 years. The tears flowed freely on her cheeks, and when she met his eyes, she could see his worry in them. But also hope.

"I love you."

Levi got up to his knees, and he cupped her face with his hands. He used his thumbs to clear her tears away, and they looked into each other`s eyes without breathing a word out for what felt like an eternity. Levi leaned towards her lips, and Petra closed her eyes, impatient to have them on hers. Levi captured her lips, putting all of his love and yearn into it. The sacrifices, the hurt, the pain, they were all worth it in the end.

He and Petra were one now. After wandering for so long, they were finally whole.

Levi deepened the kiss, and he could feel Petra's smile against his lips. She ran her hands through his hair and pulled him closer, eager to feel him against her. He devoured her lips until they were both out of breath.

He took her in his arms and laid her down on the grass before getting on top of her. Levi kissed her again, letting his tongue explore her mouth, before moving to lay open-mouthed kisses on her jaw. Petra wrapped her arms around him, moaning softly from the pleasure he was making her feel. Levi licked a trail down to her neck before laying soft kisses on it. He whispered I love you against the skin of her neck, and Petra whimpered, the tears threatening to fall again. She pulled him up to her lips and kissed him while holding onto him so tight he felt out of breath.

Levi pulled away, and he laid a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. Petra giggled and gave him a big smile- "Do you want to go home, captain?"

Levi couldn`t control his smile anymore. He had been longing to hear those words.

"Yes, I would very much like that." He wanted to go home for far too long.

Petra got up to her feet and offered him her hand, helping him off the ground. Petra`s smile faded away at the sight of an angry Levi.

"Tch, what did I tell you?"

Petra felt panic rise in her chest, thinking he might regret confessing his feelings to her.

"It`s ruined! I`m never getting that stain out, you might as well undress and leave it here for the fucking animals to shit on."

Petra turned her head to look at the green stain on her dress, and she burst into laughter at his antics. She was a messy kid growing up, and her father always teased her about falling in love with such a clean freak.

She let him ramble under his breath as she pulled him towards the house. Their house, she hoped.

Petra lived in a small cabin with flower pots at the windows. She had two chairs on the porch, one too many in his opinion, as he planned to have her in his lap every evening. He spotted a small vegetable garden on the side of the house, wondering if she and Farlan needed an extra hand.

When they got on the porch, Levi stopped her, and Petra frowned at his gesture. Was the house not to his liking? Did it not seem clean enough?

“Is something wrong? If you don`t like it, we can always redecorate.”

Levi kissed her to shut her up and picked her up in his arms, bridal style. It seemed appropriate, as they were starting a new chapter together. Petra yelped, surprised by his gesture, but wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Shall we, my dear?"

Petra giggled at the extremely uncharacteristic sweet talk- "Of course, my love."

Levi opened the door, and he almost hit her head on the frame. He cringed at his awkwardness, but Petra just gave him a small kiss on his cheek. He made his way to the living room and set Petra down on one of the armchairs.

Levi took a moment to take in the surroundings. It was cleaned up to his standards, and his chest filled with pride. He had trained her well. The living room was small, with some shelves filled with books, two armchairs in front of the fireplace, and a table between them. The tea Petra had prepared for them went cold, but tea was tea. He would never let it go to waste.

The room filled with music, and he turned his head to find Petra in front of a phonograph. It was his favorite song.

Petra gave him a shy smile and reached out to him- "Can I have this dance, Captain?"

Levi put the teacup down, and he wrapped her arms around her. They started moving slowly, and Petra laid her head on his shoulder. He ran his hand up and down her back, and she closed her eyes, wishing the moment never ended. They danced until evening fell, oblivious to the hours passing.

They had all the time in the world.

(x)

#rivetra weekend #rwmay2021 #rivetra #rivetra fanfiction #petra ral #rivetra fic #I hope it`s okay ❤️#rivetra headcanon #my writing

68 notes · View notes

abbystanaccount · 3 years

Text

Owen’s Aquarium Analysis

I was thinking about the various aspects of Owen’s Aquarium when it’s at its peak, during the Winter visit, and I just wanted to talk about it, throw some of my thoughts and interpretations out there.

This is where Owen has frequented for the past three years whenever he wanted to get away from the WLF. Abby has maybe been there a few times since their first discovery, but she hasn’t been in a long time. Personally I LOVE the way Owen reacts when he first sees her at the door. He’s very surprised, she asks him a question and it takes a second to answer because he’s busy thinking of how happy he is that she showed up at his home, the place he’s found solace in for the past few years.

The Aquarium is basically representative of Owen’s mind and his headspace. Owen’s in a pretty good spot when Abby comes to visit him in this flashback. He has games set up, he’s completely cleaned up the Aquarium trying to making it homey. But the fantastical set up is also a bit of a façade, Owen still has some issues with where he is in the world. His relationship with Mel is good (she can be really sweet sometimes), but Owen is hesitant to talk about Mel because whenever Abby is here, that’s all he can really focus on. When Abby gets there, all he wants to do now is hang out with her because he missed her. They’re playful, bantering, flirting a little, giving each other a hard time, it’s the Abby/Owen way 😌. He has a “selective memory”, and this Aquarium has many of his good memories.

The hooch. In this flashback and the present we see Owen drinking his homemade hooch, here it’s in celebration that Abby came to visit, later it’s because he’d drowning his sorrows. The fact that he makes his own alcohol, has a beer pong table, and can stand the taste of the hooch while Abby can’t, points to him drinking at least somewhat frequently.

I’d also like to equate the hooch to his dreams of sailing away from it all and finding the Fireflies again. Owen has been making his own hooch and has also been trying to convince the other Salt Lake Crew that they should all look into the leads about the Fireflies. Up at the cafe when he offers Abby some, he enjoys it and he invites her to stay and see the view, Abby rejects both things like she did his notion of finding the Fireflies. Later on the boat he is consumed in his idea to leave and find the Fireflies (parallel to his drinking), then when he offers Abby some and to come sail away she declines.

Owen’s mural... he adds to Max’s mural and creates Salt Lake City on the wall, you can see the zebra’s and giraffe’s from Abby and Ellie’s memories in the foreground. The zebra memory and being in St Mary’s with Abby before Joel arrived were the last real happy memories they had, the last time they were still innocent and carefree. Owen memorializes these happy times through his art and puts it in a place he can look at frequently.

Abby also has a similar landscape painting she took from her dad’s office, it might also but of Salt Lake City, so she much like Owen kept those memories close. However I don’t know if Owen painted this one too, might be a little weird to paint your supervisor and secret gf’s dad a painting, idk. 🤷‍♀️

In relation to the Aquarium being like Owen’s mind, Owen projects to the world he’s happy with Mel, he tries to not think about Abby and get hung up on her, but because she still exists, she’s still around, that’s very hard for him. He is hesitant to write Abby on the board even though he says Mel won’t care, he knows that Mel will a bit, because it’s announcing that Abby was here. I feel like it had often been a discussion between Owen and Mel whether or not Owen was over Abby and Owen tried to convince her and himself he was, but it’s really not true.

Owen is a really sweet and creative person, he’d much rather be chilling in his Aquarium, getting it nice, or painting a mural or sketching (like his drawing of Abby). He warms up the entire place, except for maybe the hole in the roof he thinks it too much work to finish. That’s probably very true, he is only one guy, but even besides the hole Owen shows an intense dedication to making the place fun, he lugged over party supplies seemingly by himself.

Owen also doesn’t let anyone really know about the Aquarium. Manny only knew at the end because Abby told him, and Nora only knew from Manny. So for years it was just Owen’s thing. He offers to let Abby come “if she’s nice to him,’ he does want to share with her. It’s open to interpretation that maybe she never returned until this point because of her “skeleton” comment but I don’t like that so I like to think she did come back at least a few times, maybe it was less cleaned up though. It seems like since they broke up though, Owen has dedicated time to improving his Aquarium and starting anew. Once Owen starts dating Mel he eventually shows her the Aquarium and he hopes she’ll embrace it more than Abby did, which she does.

Their relationship became draining because of Abby’s revenge mission, and after they break up they both dedicate themselves to new things, Abby really ramps up her training and Scar killing, Owen tries to build a relationship with Mel and transform his Aquarium into something he can enjoy and live it. The issue there is Abby’s mission is just digging her deeper into a hole, and Owen can’t move on with Mel when Abby exists and he’s still in love and hung up on her.

This shot is pretty obvious, Abby is right in front of the Mel stocking, blocking it out. In another timeline where she wasn’t so caught up with Joel, it would have been her stocking there instead of Mel’s, Owen would have decorated the Aquarium for her and not Mel, and I think she sees that here. She’s even facing the Ferris wheel where they first ran away to. Owen is looking at this entire scene, and he can see it as well, it’s a gut punch to him that these are the circumstances.

Owen still wants Abby to move on, he was overjoyed to have her visit him, play his archery game, just chat. It’s a rude awakening when he finds out she was there to just tell him that they’d found a lead on Joel, and that she’d already told the rest of the Crew including Mel about it. He’s feeling a bit betrayed by Abby here and pressured to join them. Owen wants what Abby wants, but he already sees how much pain its caused her and he doesn’t want more people than necessary getting hurt. But everyone else already said they would go and at one point or another he promised Abby they were in this together, and he’d never go back on his word for her.

I just want to touch on the state of the Aquariums when we see it, when we first see the Aquarium it’s not really Owen’s yet, it’s been abandoned and he had yet to put his work into it. Then three years later, it’s full his and representative of who he is. We see it after Jackson too, but it’s much more subdued and dreary because he’s been suffering mentally. If you focus on Owen during the Joel torture scenes you can really see how shook he was seeing Abby shoot Joel’s leg off, and he had to leave the room with Mel while she tortured Joel. Owen blames himself for not stopping her on this revenge quest, she’s finally doing it and it’s horrible to watch.

Afterwards, Owen has retreated from others completely. The others are pissed at him when he disagreed about letting Ellie and Tommy go. How Abby behaved scared him. He doesn’t even want the new life with Mel, he just wants out of here by himself, everything else is too painful. When he shoots Danny, Owen realizes leaving is his only option is to go because he can’t stand to be in the WLF anymore. Owen wants to go back to a time when he was happy and working towards a real cause: the Fireflies. He still faces major hurdles though, the boat is broken and the WLF are going to come after him. Abby finds him curled up, retreated as far as he can go into his safe place. Waiting for someone to come and kill him for what he did.

Then last time we go to the Aquarium, it is completely silent, eerie, and dead, Owen’s dreams of escaping to a better, happier life, shattered.

Sorry to end it on depression but that’s how it is 💔 except in happier au’s like mine lol.

Also side note, Abby saying “of course” when she sees the boat light on and not assuming he’s in the cafe or something, makes me think they returned there together at some point and more spent time there. So maybe that’s a less sad note.

#meta #analysis #Owen Moore #abby x owen #owen

47 notes · View notes

warsmith-38 · 3 years

Text

How I would do RWBY pt. 1

Revised Timeline of story events (This is not a script, but a semi-loose outline of the story)

Red, White, Blake, and Yellow trailers can stay. They’re perfectly fine as is, barring some early series production foibles (and the voice acting).

Series would be split into three arcs with three seasons each. 1. The School Arc 2. The World Travel Arc 3. The War Arc. (4. The epilogue season of mini episodes just to cap a few things off)

School Arc.

Season One.

Ruby is shopping.

Roman tries robbing the place.

Ruby gets involved because ‘fight good yes’.

Fights Roman and goons.

Beats goons but starts losing against Roman.

Glynda intervenes.

Roman am-scrays and Ruby is detained by Glynda.

This is not the first time Ruby has been called in like this.

She’s been doing free-lance vigilante stuff for a while now.

Tai comes in, worried to hell and back… again.

It’s almost routine by now, but he has a heart attack each time.

Ozpin gets wind of it this time.

Is impressed by her and offers her position at school.

Ruby says yes.

Tai says Ruby is too young to be-

Ruby says yes.

Tai keeps trying to argue-

Ruby. Says. YES!

She wants to be a huntress like her mother was more than anything else in the world.

Next few days is various entities trying to get Tai to greenlight the idea.

Ruby constantly begs, Yang says it’s a good idea, Ozpin is quite forward as to the benefits, et cetera.

Tai relents when Qrow calls him and argues that Ruby is never going to stop her vigilante thing and should at least be doing it legally and with training.

Tai tells Yang to watch over Ruby.

Yang only promises to try.

Ruby instantly loses her after they arrive at Beacon.

Yang tried, just not very hard. Wants Ruby to be independent, both from her and Tai.

Ruby meets Weiss.

Carefree and rebellious Ruby immediately clashes with stuck-up and bad-tempered Weiss.

Blake intervenes, slags off the SDC, everyone walks away annoyed.

Ruby meets Jaune.

Jaune is less bumbling.

More of an Octavian figure. Meek of body, but quite strong of tactical and strategic mind.

Jaune meets Pyrrha.

Has no idea who she is. Not all that into celebrity gossip, especially whole kingdoms away.

Comes off as polite and charming, if a bit oblivious.

Ruby encounters Blake on her own.

Says thanks for helping ward off angry Weiss.

Blake seems a little standoffish but Ruby’s infectious friendliness makes her give her a chance.

Have actual conversation about books.

Have minor debate over the exact meaning behind the symbolism of a character in a story.

Y’know, nerd shit.

Orientation.

Ruby and Weiss talk again.

Goes roughly as canon. IE: poorly.

Ren and Nora introduced, again, roughly as canon.

Ren talks a bit more, less of Nora motor-mouth with him just being there.

Have brief conversations with Jaune and/or Pyrrha.

Relic hunt starts.

Catapult!

Ruby and Weiss meet each other faster than usual.

Grimm show up and they kill them together.

Weiss calls her an idiot but agrees that she’s at least competent in a fight.

Blake and Yang meet each other.

Have actual conversation.

Blake tries to be standoffish and curt but Yang’s winning smile and corny sense of humor makes it hard.

Jaune and Pyrrha meet again.

Jaune has actual plan to get relic.

Have conversation about aura and semblances in a way that doesn’t make Jaune seem like he was dropped multiple times on his head as a child.

Says that he hasn’t unlocked his semblance yet, but he says that he scored high enough on his aptitude tests to make up for it.

Ren and Nora meet up because… well, duh.

Meet Jaune and Pyrrha and decide to team up to speed the overall process up.

Bumble into pissing off giant grimm.

Ruby and Weiss start arguing, come to brief blows even.

Teenagers, am I right?

Big grimm shows up.

They bond a little by fighting it off together.

Main characters start to coalesce at the relic site.

Future JNPR is there too.

Everyone has brief hello with each other.

The two large grimm from earlier show up.

Each would-be team gets one.

Happy teamwork scene.

Kill the grimm, get the relics, same old shit.

Teams RWBY and JNPR are made official.

Team CFVY are present as the designated senpai group.

Cue bonding scenes.

Ruby and Blake create book club with Ren, Jaune, and Yatsuhashi.

Yang, Fox, and Ren have Kung-Fu training scenes.

Velvet passes around the collection plate for Wild Call, a large and helpful faunus rights group.

Blake and Velvet are kind of tense with each other. No one knows why.

Then again, Blake is pretty tense with everyone, but especially Velvet and Weiss.

(Velvet knows that Blake is a faunus and dislikes that she hides it. Blake dislikes Weiss because Schnee.)

Ruby is happy to talk to Coco-senpai and her crazy purse mini-gun.

Nora, Yang, and Pyrrha have push up contest. Ruby wins.

Weiss helps Ruby study with things like flash cards, note taking strategies, and other things she ignores.

Weiss has tense moment or two with Ruby but Yang delivers some context as to why Ruby is so unruly.

Mom died, dad got WAY overprotective of Ruby and more than a little distant with Yang.

Ruby always wanted to be like her badass of a mother and saw their father as being in the way of that.

Weiss empathizes to a degree.

Weiss and Yang team up to be the semi-responsible ones for Ruby.

CRDL are cunts.

Act racist to Velvet.

Push Jaune and Ruby around a little.

Say ungentlemanly things to Yang and Pyrrha. (They do it to all of the girls, but to them the most)

Cunt stuff.

CVFY can’t do much because A. They can’t be brawling with underclassmen and B. They wouldn’t be able to not kill the little pricks and that’d be a bad look for them.

JNPR is just trying to ignore them.

This leads to a confrontation between CRDL and RWBY.

They make a bet over a set of sparring matches.

If CRDL wins then RWBY has to operate as their maids or something creepy like that for the school year.

If RWBY wins then CRDL has to fuck off for the school year.

Best of four matches with a team battle if a tiebreaker is needed.

Ruby actually loses to Cardin due to his tankiness, him being the most (IE: only) competent part of his team, and secret cheating.

Weiss beats Russel rather handily.

Blake loses to Dove due to him cheating and everyone still not noticing yet.

Yang traumatizes Lark as a warning.

Team battle!

CRDL takes an early advantage due to RWBY having some coordination issues.

RWBY figures out that CRDL is cheating via wire tapping into their team communications.

Ruby takes the reigns.

Coordinates with her team via code with an old inside joke to Yang, a literary reference to Blake, and one of those studying tricks to Weiss.

They act in ways that CRDL aren’t expecting and can’t cheat around.

RWBY wins.

Yang and Blake take CRDL aside and threaten them that if they renege at all they will make what Yang did to Lark look like a massage, not to mention telling the staff about the cheating.

They are scared into avoiding RWBY and co. where convenient.

CRDL slink off to be cunts elsewhere.

Pyrrha, because fuck ‘will they won’t they’, asks Jaune out on a date.

Jaune, breaking dense anime boy tradition, says yes.

They’re cute together and N+R support them.

Beginnings of Vital Festival starts.

Team RWBY sees Sun causing chaos.

He briefly introduces himself to them and then runs off to cause more monkey mischief.

SSN are right behind him and are rude bastards who don’t introduce themselves while fleeing the cops.

Penny meets team in glorious awkwardness.

Ciel, whom Weiss recognizes from Atlas (they went to the same starter school together), is constantly chasing after her and her antics.

Her other two teammates are just combat bots with special retrofits. (They’re prototypes for Penny)

Gives context of tournament and her place in it like an awkward robot would.

Weiss says something pretty damn racist directed towards Sun.

RBY call out Weiss on racism.

Blake gets angry with her.

The topic of the White Fang comes up.

R + Y both agree with Weiss that the White Fang are assholes, despite also condemning Weiss’ racism.

Weiss has horror stories about what they’ve done, including kidnapping her at young age.

Points to her scar for emphasis.

Blake can’t argue against what they’re talking about but counters with the horrible stuff the SDC has done across planet.

General scumbag corporate crap as well as paramilitary actions that break most international laws.

R + Y also agree with Blake that SDC sucks too.

Weiss is a little taken aback.

She genuinely had no clue that things like that were happening.

Blake lets slip that she was White Fang.

Runs off before people can react.

Team gives chase.

Blake thinks they’re going to turn her in and/or lynch her.

They only want to talk to her and get the full story.

Weiss is conflicted about things.

Sun finds Blake, says that he remembers her from a White Fang attack in Vacuo, despite the masks they wear, and wants some answers.

Sun says that general opinion among faunus (at least in Vacuo and Mistral) is that the White Fang are asshole supremacists that cause more problems than they ever solve or even try to solve.

Blake gets reality check about White Fang.

Confesses that she was involved with some acts of violence but thought it was for the greater good.

She makes a point of saying that she, herself, did not kill anyone. If anyone was killed it was not by her.

If someone died, then it was either an ‘accident’ someone else did or Adam swung the sword.

Also thought that the genuinely horrible stuff she heard was propaganda or just Adam being a dick.

It was said dickishness of Adam’s cell that was tolerated by larger organization that made her leave and try to repent.

She had no idea that Adam was only marginally more of a lunatic than other cell leaders.

Blake happens to see telltale signs of White Fang attack. Uses them as an excuse to change subject.

Sun gives her benefit of the doubt on her attempt at personal redemption and assists her in trying to stop terrorist plot.

Penny has nothing better to do so she gives Ciel the slip and starts helping Ruby look for Blake.

Have conversation about friendship, freedom, and weapons.

Weiss airs concerns to Yang about future of team.

She seems scared at the idea of losing a friend like Blake.

White Fang are taking orders from Torchwick and his goons.

Blake tries to appeal to their good side.

They call her and Sun race traitors and try to kill them.

Blake and Sun vs Torchwick.

Neo (Roman’s adopted daughter) shows up to help Torchwick.

White Fang go all out.

This is a problem.

RWY and Penny arrive to brawl.

Penny solves problems.

Sun and Penny take on the White Fang

Roman + Neo are final boss of season for RWBY.

Hard fought fight, but it is clear that RWBY is going to win.

White Fang have contingency explosive.

No one important dies, but Penny is grabbed by her superiors in the confusion.

Weiss and Blake confrontation.

Both apologize for the mistakes in their earlier arguments and for flying off the handle.

Both still have rose-tinted glasses about their respective sides but the tint is wearing off.

Blake stops hiding being a faunus because the rest of the world isn’t as horrible and racist as the supremacist terrorists told her it was.

Agrees to be more transparent to her team.

Weiss agrees that #notallfaunus and that the SDC has done some dirt.

Torchwick meets with mysterious benefactor about problems with latest job.

Cinder, Emerald, Mercury, and Adam tell him not to worry and that Evil Plan is still a go.

Season one done.

#RWBY #RWDE #I guess #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Ozpin #JNPR #How I would do...#Hate if you wish #Team CFVY

15 notes · View notes