#he covers it all up cause his expressions are what sell his acts and performances

[maskyartist]

at some point imma have to draw Roman's entire facial scar...imma have to draw it to show yall how fucked his money maker is in my head,,,,but not today

someday tho. someday...

#masky says #im thinkin about it cause i realize idk how many of yall ACTUALLY REALIZE i make him scarred >3> #hes got burns on the entire right side of his face! covered by his bangs! #well our left his right #hes blind in that eye too it got sealed by melted skin and his ear's a bit fucky #he covers it all up cause his expressions are what sell his acts and performances #plus they make a great 'woe is me' moment for anyone dumb enough to pity him #I HAVE SO MUCH BACKSTORY ON THIS MAN #'oh but roman holiday-' shhhhh shut up. just shut up i havent read it and probably wont :) #maybe some day but not today and definitely not tomorrow

[dreamingofep]

A Blue Velvet Crush

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

TW: Cussing, teasing, SMUTTT, fingering

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello everyone! This picture of Elvis lives rent free in my head and I knew when I first saw it, I had to write something for it.

If you've never seen some of this performance, I'd recommend watching! I'll make another post with the youtube link!

Thank you again❤️

Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

Mississippi, September 26th, 1956

Traffic was backed up for miles and the buzz in the air was electrifying. You couldn’t hide your nerves though. You weren’t even supposed to be here today but by the grace of God, you got thrown in the ring and had to cover today’s most important story. Elvis Presley was back in his hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi to perform a charity concert. His rise to fame seemed to happen overnight and everyone was dying to see him in person. 

You were just an intern at the Tupelo Mirror and your supervisor that was running the Elvis story got sick this morning. Eric called you at the crack of dawn, frantic that no one was going to be there to take pictures. You had only been at the newspaper for a month and a half, you didn’t want to overstep your role and be too forward, but you mentioned that you have photography experience. You ran your college photography club and were majoring in journalism. You know you can take some decent shots of him. You try to sell yourself, affirming you can do this! The whole reason you were working for the newspaper was to get a better shot of getting a job at a newspaper company after you graduated. You thought this would be the perfect way to gain the experience. And if you got some good pictures of Elvis Presley? That could change your whole life. 

You did have a fondness of the man but like, who didn’t at your age? He was the new cool guy who was causing havoc wherever he went. He was talented and had this luring sense about him. You hadn’t ever seen him in person, but based on the few televised appearances he’s made, he was beyond incredible. You knew he had a talent that no one had ever had. Your parents would always make a fuss if you were watching him and tried to make you feel bad for it. 

“No Christian boy should be moving like that! It’s abhorrent.” Your parents used to say. 

You’d just roll your eyes and grumble under your breath. Your parents didn’t understand that he was something young people could love and be fully immersed in without having to act all prim and proper about it. There was no other artist that would make you feel the way Elvis made his audiences feel. He was passionate and he felt the music to his very soul. It showed so easily he didn’t have to say he loved what he was doing. 

And now you were going to be feet away from Elvis, taking his picture and maybe even getting the chance to ask him a few questions. The cars started moving forward more and before you could get through the gates, a police officer stopped you. You rummaged through your satchel and pulled out your press pass. He quickly nodded and directed you to the portion of the lot where other photographers and press reporters were gathered. You quickly find a spot and throw your car in park. You throw your satchel over your head and grab your camera out of its bag. It wasn’t the most high-end camera but it took nice pictures. You double-checked the camera had enough film and quickly made a beeline to the stage. 

There were thousands of people here already and the buzz in the air was electric. You saw girls jumping up and down giddy that they were about to see Elvis live. You had some of the men standing next to them with a bored expression on their faces like they didn’t want to be there. You had to play it cool though. You had your press badge on and the last thing you needed was for someone to see you acting giddy when you had to be professional today. 

There was a corralled section for the press behind ropes that gave you a bit better access on the side of the stage but it was still very crowded. Not only that, but it was all men here and they were all significantly taller than you. You couldn’t see a damn thing from this area and became worried you weren’t going to be able to get one good photograph of this entire thing!

You try to push and shove your way closer to the front but just get these condescending looks toward you and don’t budge an inch for you. You didn’t expect anything less honestly, the industry was made up of men and wasn’t exactly kind to women entering the workplace. You shake it off, not letting it get to you too much. 

The audience starts screaming as the band takes their place on stage. It’s a small band with just a drummer, bassist, and guitar player. They’re all smiles when they hear the crowd go wild for them. Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage though. You want to get the first glimpse of him when he gets on this stage. 

The audience continues to grow antsy and an announcer hops on stage. He steps in front of the microphone at center stage and taps it with his finger. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all are very excited to have one of our very own from Tupelo be here today. I need you to give a warm welcome to Elvis Presley.”

The crowd erupts at his name and everyone bursts out in insane excitement. You keep your eyes on the side of the stage and you raise the camera to your face, getting ready for the first shot. 

The audience gets louder and you feel the hair on your arms rise. There you see him. He’s dressed in a velvety blue long-sleeve and loose black slacks with his perfect white oxfords. His hair was greased back and looked shiny. He had his guitar on and made his way to the microphone. From this angle, he looked so tall, his legs easily gliding him across the stage. 

He carried this nervous energy about him tho. He puts his hand in his pocket and grabs the microphone with the other hand. 

Click. 

He starts Heartbreak Hotel and drives the place insane. Everyone is screaming and some girls are even crying. His voice rings out flawlessly and once he starts singing, there’s no stopping him. He can’t seem to stand still. Whether it’s the music moving him or the nerves, he is shaking and moving, making the crowd even more insane.

There are times when the screams overpower his voice coming through the microphone. He has an amused look on his face the whole time though. Especially when he swings his hips and makes the girls go bezerk. You catch yourself blushing at those moves, how he can move his hips so easily as he makes these in-passion faces. He made you feel something you’ve never felt before. It was bad, it was lust driving you to keep looking at what he was going to do next. You wanted him to move more to see just how those hips would move in other circumstances…

Click.

Fucking focus.

He wasn’t afraid to get close to his fans. It looked like he really loved them. You could tell he moved his leg just to get them going and have them look there. Or how he’d say a certain word and prolong it all sensually, it drove the place nuts. Even just the way he held the microphone and dragged it along beside him. He commanded that stage by doing the smallest things. Elvis walks slowly to the edge of the stage where dozens of fans reach out their hands for him. He gets close and reaches out his hand too, still singing and never missing a beat.

Click.

You get the side profile of him but you think it’s going to be a great picture when it develops. What you really want is a perfect picture of his face straight onto the camera. That would be a great way to solidify that you are a great photographer and can do this professionally.

Elvis finishes his set and gets rushed off stage into the building behind the arena. You follow the crowd that’s trying to get to him, hoping you can get another picture of him that’s even better than the ones you took. The other photographers aren’t paying any attention to you and push and shove their way through. You huff annoyed, hoping you can get in there before they close the doors. 

You find a spot on the side but all the men in here are so much taller and crowding Elvis. You slump by the door, frustrated that you might have ruined your big chance to prove yourself at the newspaper as you haven’t gotten a single shot of his face straight on. You wanted to the perfect shot and it seems your opportunity was wasted. 

“Alright everyone it’s time to leave. Elvis won’t be answering any more questions,” a man bellows. Most of the men try to protest but they slowly start to funnel out of the door. You continue to get pushed aside until you’re almost behind the door. You don’t move from behind there because, for a brief second, a devious idea pops into your head. 

Just stay here long enough for everyone to leave and ask for a picture when he’s alone.

Your heart pounds away at just the thought of being alone with Elvis but you had to try it. The worst he could say was no and get out. 

The last few remaining men shuffle out of the room and Elvis yells out that he’ll be right out. The door shuts closed, making your little hiding spot be exposed in plain sight. 

Elvis had his back to the door so he didn’t see you right away. You sighed in relief for that but had to work up the courage to say something to him.

What exactly should you say in this situation? ‘Hi I snuck in your dressing room even though I was told to get out, can I take a few pictures of you for the newspaper?’

You cringed just thinking about it. You took a few deep breaths and straightened out your dress.

“Umm, excuse me, Elvis?” You say sheepishly.

He turns around quickly at the sound of your voice and stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t say anything right away and neither do you because seeing him this close and in person is too much.

He is beautiful, in every shape and form, he is beautiful. You’ve never seen such a handsome-looking man before in your life and have no words. Logical thinking went out the window with him and he looks at you with the same expression on his face. You haven’t said more than four words to him but you want him. You want him to look at you and touch you and never stop. Your core flutters at that scandalous thought.

“You scared me there honey. H-how’d you get in here?” He asks with a mischievous grin forming on his face.

“W-w-well I uhhh. Well, I work for the newspaper and I was wondering if I could take a few more pictures of you?” You ask nervously. A long silence fills the room and you are about to turn on your heels and run for the door when he gives you another cheeky smile.

“Sure, I don’t mind at all. What was your name lil’ darlin’?” He asks smoothly.

Lil’ darlin’.

Jesus Christ I’m not going to make it out of here alive with all his charm suffocating me.

“Oh gosh Elvis, thank you so much. This truly means so much to me. And my name is y/n.” You tell him in a hurry. You make sure your camera is on and ready before you look back up at him watching you intently.

“Y/n… that’s very pretty…Where’d you want me, honey?” He coos.

Your heart pounds in your ears and you can’t register anything he just said. All you can do is look at him in shock and can’t believe you’re alone with him. You know how many thousands of girls would kill for a moment like this? And the question he just asked?! Ooh, the sheer audaciousness he has. He knows he's irresistable.

I'd love you to cover me in kisses with those pillowy soft lips...

“Huh?” You say in a daze.

“Where did you wanna take my picture honey? You’re the photographer and all,” he teases. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you nervously look down at your camera.

“Oh yeah… sorry… I’ve never really done this,” you admit. His eyebrows shoot up surprised, “First time? Wow, that’s somethin’ for a little lady coming here and coverin’ a story on a day like this. The whole town is making a huge fuss over me, I don’t think deserve it, but it’s very special either way. I’ll make sure to give you the best pictures,” he winks. It feels like your heart just about stopped by that one minuscule movement.

Stop that. Stop that right now!

You sweetly smile up at him and move further into the room, trying to see what angle and lighting would be best. The wall behind him was blue and you thought that would be a perfect backdrop to accentuate the velvet shirt he was wearing and his piercing blue eyes.

“Umm, let’s try with you stand there. I think that would be a nice background,” you say.

He casually takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Like this?” He asks. You raise the camera to your face, make sure the frame is straight, and push the button.

Click.

He looked good without even trying. He had this golden aura about him. Like he shined from within. He was remarkable and you know that without saying much else to him. Even if you didn’t like him already, you can see the appeal. He was so easy to love. So easy to be around. Everything about him was inviting and warm. You don’t know how you were going to peel yourself away from him…

“Okay, how about one smiling?” You ask. He nods his head and gives you this cute cheeky smile.

Click.

God help me I can’t breathe with this man around looking this good.

“How are they comin’ out honey?” He asks, his southern inflection on honey making you feel like the actual word.

“Oh, just fine. I think they’re going to be amazing when printed,” you try to say casually.

“Oh good… what are you doin’ working for the newspaper?” He asks, fixing the sides of his hair with a comb.

Click.

“I don’t work for the newspaper, not yet at least. I’m just an intern. I’m a student at the University of Mississippi studying journalism and thought it would help to work there for a bit so when I graduate in two years, I can hopefully get a job at a newspaper,” you explain.

He intently looks at you, interested in everything you have to say, “That’s wonderful honey. I think that’s great you’re pursuing that. I don’t doubt for a second you won’t get a job anywhere you apply for,” he says sweetly. You can’t help but blush at his nice words and fiddle with your camera.

“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly. He walks over to the sofa that’s up against the wall and casually takes a seat.

He stretches out one arm along the back of the couch and the other rests on the arm of it. His legs were spread open and your eyes can’t help but stare at them. They were so long and he exuded sensuality, it nearly made you dizzy. He sees how you’re looking at him, intrigued with the man that so many found attractive.

You raise the camera to your eye once again as he looks down the lens intensely.

Click.

You felt like screaming like those girls were earlier. You’ve never felt so attracted to someone’s presence. It kind of scared you in a way. 

He moves on the sofa slightly, bringing his hand to his mouth and giving you this luring, sultry gaze.

Oh lord, I’m a dead woman…

Click.

He doesn’t change this pose after the flash goes off, he continues to sit there with his eyes drinking you in. Your body can’t take this, the tension in the room is palpable and you are seriously considering running out now since you have plenty of good shots. Elvis slowly starts to lower his hand from his mouth and you see he was biting his lip behind it this whole time. He slowly drags his teeth across it before letting it go with a pop.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He asks softly.

You can’t hide your flushed cheeks anymore and lower the camera from your face to see if he’s being serious. His eyes look heavy and somber, but he cracks a little grin to lighten the mood.

“Oh, no… not something I normally hear,” you say insecurely.

“That’s a shame darlin’, you really are. You have the most gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and the longest legs I’ve ever seen,” he gushes. 

I’m dead. I’ve gone to heaven and died. This can’t be happening!

“Well thank you very much. I could say the same for you,” you say coyly.

His eyebrows raise at the blunt remark and chuckles softly to himself. He lowers his hand off the back of the sofa and places it on the empty space beside him, looking at it, then looking back up at you. He doesn’t need to say another word, he pulls you in without trying.

You carefully place your camera on the table and take your bag off your shoulder. You make your way to sit beside him as your heart gallops like a racing horse.

He turns his body a bit to face you more and being this close to him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You have to hold your breath or he might notice how nervous you are.

“No guy back home telling’ you how pretty you are hmm?” He says, tucking back stands of hair behind your ear. All you can do is shake your head no. His fingertips barely graze the lobe of your ear but it makes you feel weak anyway. The arousal dripping from your core is not helping the situation and not letting you think clearly.

“Oh, well I’m sorry men are so blind over there. I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he quips, giving you a cheeky smile. “The most pretty eyes, the most pretty nose, the most pretty pink lips I’ve ever seen,” he coos, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your lips.

You can’t take it anymore and lean in, devouring his lips with yours. You let out a deep breath as your mouth touched his, his lips feeling softer than you could have ever possibly imagined. He was so gentle with his kiss, making sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries. But you didn’t care about that. You screamed for more from him. More kisses, more long heated stares, more everything. 

You boldly, place your hand on his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him. He responds to your touch and you can tell he likes it. His crushed velvet shirt felt nice underneath your fingertips and felt his toned arms. He places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in with more urgency. You feel breathless, loving the way his skin makes yours feel like it’s on fire.

Elvis softly pulls away, not before biting your bottom lip and letting a sigh slip out of his mouth.

“Those lips darlin’, I could kiss them all day,” he mutters, his eyes heavy with lust.

“What’s stopping you?” You whimper. He grins and pulls you in once more.

You can’t believe any of this is real. The way he is kissing you should not feel so good and yet it does. You put both of your hands on his chest, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. His hands start to roam along your back, feeling the curve of it and how well this dress fits you. Every inch of you wants his hands placed lower. Right at the spot that is yearning for friction from those perfect hands.

He starts to drag one of his hands to your hip, squeezing there then down the top of your thigh. Need coursed through you and you couldn’t help but open your legs a tad bit. You’re not sure if he noticed, but he let out a pleased hum as he kissed you with more intensity.  

You needed to feel him. You needed to feel how soft his skin would be when it’s pressed against yours. Your hand sneaks into his shirt and feel the coarse little chest hairs he had there. You were right, his skin felt perfect and it only made you crave more. You snake your hand lower and onto the top of his thigh. You make the same movements he’s doing to you and you feel his body melt at your touch. 

You move your hand a bit lower and go to caress the inside part of his thigh and you freeze.

“Oh…” you moan into his mouth.

What you felt underneath your fingertips made you cry in need of him. Dear God, he was blessed in more ways than one. He was so much longer than you expected and it made your heart leap out of your chest. His cock was warm and fully hard in his pants as your fingertips slowly start to rub against him. You pull away from his lips and have to look at what your hand is feeling. 

You were going to die and see the pearly gates if you tried to have that inside of you. But God you didn’t care, you wanted him so bad. You’ve never wanted a man like this in your entire life. Looking up at Elvis, he looks calm and collected, still giving you a heated stare. He looks down at your hand, then back up to you with an innocent look about him. 

“You like what you feel baby?” He asks low. You take a deep breath before answering him.

“Y-yes. Yes, I do…” you say softly, your hand moving along him more. He lets out a pleased groan and adjusts his hips slightly, liking the feeling of your touch on him.

“Do you want more? Do you want to feel what it’s like inside of you?” He coos, leaning in for a soft kiss that leaves you dizzy. Your breathing felt erratic and the ache you had in your core only worsened.

“Yes please Elvis… please,” you beg. He smirks at you and kisses your neck, sending a shock of electricity through you. 

“Can I see what you’re wearin’ underneath this pretty dress honey?” He asks you. You nod your head and his fingers find the zipper of your dress easily. He slowly pulls it down and pulls down the fabric off the front of your body. You help him slip you out of your dress and sit there with your white bra and panties left on. He lets out a pleased little groan as he sees you sitting there, trembling with need. He gently touches your exposed skin, leaving little goosebumps behind. He touches your breasts gently, biting his lip as both of his hands cup them and start to play with your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You can’t help but lean into his touch loving every second of this.

He places a soft kiss on top of your breast as he reaches around and unclips your bra. He quickly puts one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks on it, groaning as he does so. Your back arches into his mouth, craving so much more from him. His other hand roams your body but only focuses on the top half of you. Your core was dripping with arousal and aching to be touched by those long fingers. You guide one hand between your legs and have him put pressure there.

You gasp instantly, his touch feeling better than you could have imagined but also realize you’ve soaked through your panties. He takes his mouth off of you and pulls away to look down at his hand.

“Fuck honey, how long have you been soaked like this?” He grumbles, his two fingers sliding up and down through your covered folds and creating the most delicious friction.

“Since I saw you moving on that stage,” you admit weakly.

He chuckles softly, “Oh honey, why didn’t you tell me sooner… this pussy just weepin’ for me?” He asks as his fingers slide the elastic of your panties to the side and expose your leaking core to him.

“Yes,” you moan. He nods his head and slowly pushes a finger inside of you. You both groan together, filling you so nicely. Your hips rock into his hand, needing everything he can give you. 

You throw your head back as he adds another finger inside of you.

“Elvis,” you moan, your chest heaving for more. He watches you intently, liking how on edge you are for him. His fingers twist and curl inside of you and you gasp for air. He likes what he’s doing and can’t get enough got you either.

“You feel so nice and wet baby. Can I give you my cock now?” He asks.

“Please, I want you Elvis, please give it to me,” you beg, reaching for his belt and unfastening it. He pulls down your panties and you lift your hips to help him get them off. You then work on the button of his pants and slide down the zipper. He lifts his hips up too to take them off and you watch as his cock comes out. Oh God, you were weak by just looking at it. His pink tip was peeking out from his foreskin and clear precum started to dribble down his length. His hand wraps around his length and spreads some of that slickness around the tip of him, moving his hand up and down slowly. You look back into his intense eyes and don’t know what to say.

“You want to ride me, honey?” He asks. The look on your face must have shown the apprehension you had thinking about taking him like that. He rubs his thumb along your cheek and smirks at you.

“It’ll feel so good baby. You’re so wet for me, you’re going to cover my cock in your sweet honey and make us feel so good,” he groans as you watch him swirl his thumb around the tip of his cock. A pent-up moan escapes your lips and quickly straddle his hips, needing him more than ever.

He rubs his length through your folds, covering him in your arousal and making you both moan with the sensation. You hold onto his shoulders and press kisses to his cheek. You feel him line himself up to your entrance and hold your hips. Elvis looks up at you with need and his eyes are begging you to have him. You felt the heat of him pressed there against your entrance and you can’t wait any longer. You start to sink down on his impressive length, moaning as you take the first few inches. He felt so good, filling you so completely and stretching out your tight entrance. He throws his head back onto the couch and groans as you take him, squeezing your hips tightly.

The sounds he makes when he’s getting pleased goes straight to your head. You love the way he groans as you move slowly on him. You never knew you could be so attracted to the sound of a man getting pleased. You take more of him inside you and cry out his name, overwhelmed it can be feeling this good. 

“You feel so good, honey. You like how my cock feels inside you?” He groans into your ear. You gasp as his hips move up into you, stuffing more of his length inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you cry out.

You move faster on him, wanting more of him and feeling your walls fluttering each second. His eyes watch how your breasts bounce as you’re riding him, drunk at the very sight of you. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with all the sensations he’s giving you and those eyes only make it worse and worse. 

Your hips grind at the base of his cock and you both whimper. Your clit rubs at the base of him and you feel your walls start to clench around him. You ride him harder, chasing the high of your orgasm. You look back into his eyes, desperate for him to help you.

“E-Elvis… oh please,” you beg.

“Come darlin’, I wanna feel you come for me,” he groans as he snaps his hips into you, causing his cock to get deeper inside you.

You whimper in agony, not being able to hold on much longer. His hands are back on your hips and help you move more. Your breathing is ragged and your vision is blurry, you thrust a few more times on him and you feel your body shudder hard. Your walls squeeze around his length and cry out his name like he’s your saving grace. He groans with you, loving how good you feel around him. He helps you rock your hips into him more, making you come more than you ever have in your life. Your head feels dizzy and your body feels like it’s floating. You never knew a man could make you feel this good.

You keep riding him and don’t want to stop. He was still making these sinful sounds that sent a pulse straight to your pussy as you hear him getting pleased by you. He bites his lower lip as he stares at you, beaded sweat gathering at his temples and his breathing becoming more frantic.

“Ah, honey you feel so damn good. I need to come now,” he says gruffly. He picks you up off of him and has you stand in between his open legs. He grabs his cock in his hand once more and starts to jerk himself off, staring at you with need. You wanted to touch him again, feel the warmth of his length fill your hand. You boldly get on your knees and take his hand off of himself. You wrap your small hand around him and his eyes roll back in his head. Your wetness covered his length and made it easy to move your hand on him. You angle his length toward your chest and he bucks his forward and falls apart. His seed comes out in thick, hot, spurts and lands on your chest. He groans loudly and cusses under his breath with each stroke of your hand. 

“Oh yes honey, yes,” he moans.

He’s trying to calm down and regain his normal breathing but your thumb continues to tease his extra sensitive head. He groans in agony, loving and hating how you’re playing with him.

“God honey I-I-I ain’t never felt so good,” he sighs. “Come here,” he says opening his arms to you. 

You get up and sit on his thigh, your spilling arousal making a mess on him. You wince when you feel the wetness spread on him and look up at him with an innocent smile.

“Sucha messy lil’ girl hmm?” He teases.

“Mhmm, you’re quite messy too,” you quip, looking down at your chest with him covering it.

He laughs amused, “Well, you felt too good what can I say,” he says cutely, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I had to say thank you in some way for letting me take some pictures of you,” you say shyly.

“Oh, you didn’t need to, but I’m so thankful you did,” he winks.

You kiss each other more, reveling in this moment together, not wanting it to end so soon. But you knew he had other places to be, you couldn’t keep him in here forever.

“I don’t want to keep you from your day. The whole town is so happy you’re here,” you smile.

“Thanks, honey. It’s nice to be celebrated in sucha nice way,” he says caressing your face, “but this might have been my favorite thing I got today.” He says cutely.

“And what’s that?” You ask smartly.

“You, my new favorite reporter.”

*

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#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification. ──➤ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋!

─➤ Kuroo Tetsurou sent you a letter, would you like to read it? #CC of the letter directed to : @bbthots-underground​

──➤ #𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut. ─➤ #𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 : Caught in a snowbound, Kuroo has to work from home. But your sinful envies don’t really match with his working tendencies. Will you be able to keep it quiet for him? Or will you disobey and get punished? It’s entirely up to you. ➤ #𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Minors please do not interact, +18. Vaginal sex, penetration, degradation, binding. 

« Of course, of course… I understand, mhm. The weather is not on our side, this year’s winter is even more cruel than last year’s. Mhm, for sure, for sure… » Without stating the obvious, this pseudo speech, intercut with several hums leaving the frontiers of his lips, belonged to a man who had to work from home. The blame of such a sudden change was the blowing white storm outside and its ceaseless waves of snow coming to crash down on the ground, the roofs, everywhere. The wind which accompanied the blizzard in this symphony to the ode of the muses of the cold weather seemed to be whistling along to the series of affirmations which continued to pour from his lips like a cascade that couldn’t reach its end.

It was a meaningless consecution of affirmative sentences, perhaps sentences that he didn’t even mean in the first place, but oh well, it was what he would call ‘corporate language’, talk to please the person on the other end of the phone and make them hear what they want to hear.

The discussion, which gravitated around the next selling strategy for the upcoming volleyball competition, wasn’t bound to come to an end anytime soon. Meaning that Kuroo had to more or less listen and give half-interested hums of acknowledgement for a few more minutes. He took a seat on the leather chair throning along with his acacia desk in the middle of the room, his gaze fell on the constant flickering of the ambers in the fireplace to seek a distraction from this deafening discussion.

But there he was, saved by the salute of the echoes of your knocks on the door. You knew perfectly well he was on the phone, being able to hear his hums from the other side of the door, but it’s not as if it was going to stop you. And you stepped into the arena that was his office, dressed in the newest set of scarlet lingerie Kuroo had gotten you (after having ripped to pieces the last set no longer than two days ago.) It was flawless, and the melted perfectly with the shapes of your body. But the way the transparency over the fabric which ‘covered’ your breasts, leaving his imagination run to the darkest corners of his mind, was already stimulating his salivary glands. And he knew, from the first glance on your figure and the way you were leaning against the shut door, that he was going to make a mess out of you… And make that new set of lingerie witness the same fatalist fate as the martyr before. Kuroo didn’t say a word, but the way his fingers pointed at his lap were enough indication for you to understand where you were going to be sitting, after all, you had deemed it as your throne. « Of course, I think it’s the best strategy to valorize the merch. » words fell effortlessly from his mouth, as if he became unfazed by the not so foreign presence on his lap. Or so you thought. « Maybe we could think about asking the MSBY team for some interviews, mhm? » His free hand was busy messily undoing the knot of his tie, far too tight for his liking, before setting his phone in a hold between his ear and his shoulders.

This newfound position gave him the opportunity to undo his belt, the sound of the metal of clicking in unison, and it gave you a hint as where he was going already. You were bound to drag his underwear down, but not before teasing the edge of said underwear with your fingertips (a deed which was saluted with an ill-intentioned glare on his end). « Hold on a second, I’ll be quick. », what a stark comparison between the numbness of his words and the growing bulge obtaining more and more the privilege of omnipotency in the constricting fabric of his boxers.

Kuroo gave a second glance at the phone on his desk, double-checking it was far enough to be able to pronounce the following words without being caught by his correspondent on the other end of the phone call, « All dolled up for me, kitten? How nice of you… » a metaphorical green elixir of mischief dripped down from his words whilst his fingertips found salute on your clothed core, his fingertips moving in appreciation at the sensation of wetness. « Here’s what we’re going to do, kitten, you’re going to ride my cock like the good girl you are but you have stay quiet, mhm? Good girls don’t want to be punished, do they? » Such a rhetorical question, but you nodded nonetheless, eager to feel full once more by the intoxicating sensation of his girth inside you. You were willing to do anything, give up on your boundaries, bend the holy rules of decency if it meant you could reach nirvana. And your ascension began as you allowed yourself to sink on his length, making a martyr out of your lower lip due to the pressure of your pearly whites. You needed to stay quiet, you needed to be a good girl for him.

Kuroo almost felt a hint of guilt at the palette of crimson shades now coloring your lower lip, but it was a sight to breathtaking to feel anything but pure ecstasy. « Tet— Mmphf! » You plea was cut to a halt by the sudden presence of his palm over mouth mouth, were you going to break his rules so quickly? « What did I say about being a good girl? Don’t make me punish you, I know you’re better than that, kitten. » Oh, the disappointed tone in his voice, a forecast of the sinful nature of events which were bound to happen if you kept playing with fire.

And whilst Kuroo was back on the call, having apologized for a pseudo issue caused by who-knows-what, you were hesitatingly rotating your hips, letting the tip of his length kiss your velvety walls. They were shy, almost experimental rotations. But although they were agonizingly slow, you could already feel the sick sensations of knots forming themselves in your lower stomach. Your palms were laid flat on his broad shoulder, your glance solely focused on the way his cock was filling you up, gracing your insides with how the prominent veins were dancing against your walls.

Fuck, was it hard to keep your composure and not give in to the subtle calls of the muses of passion. But he was on a call, the same hums and other signs of agreement leaving his lips whilst his oculars were fixed on you, an ill-intentioned grin throning amongst his facial features as a sign of a silent victory. You were such a good girl for him. He tapped his fingertips against your luscious thighs caging him in a hole he’d dream of spending his entire life in, silently telling you to begin a more rushed rhythm. But before you could start, his index found its way against his lips, another wordless way to demand absolute silence on your end. He knew it was pure torture, that’s why he was liking it so much.

And so you obliged, and the vertical motions on his girth became natural until reaching a steady rhythm which wouldn’t expose you to the light of danger. Or so you thought. Your own betrayal manifested itself when he shifted his position in his leather chair, causing the tip of his length to hit against the roof of your core, a terribly sensitive area which held all the nerves which burned under the sudden touch. A dragged moan left your lips before you could even realize it, your body began acting on its own before your mind did, and that’s precisely when you knew you had both lost yourself and he had lost patience.

You could hear a hushed « Kuroo-san, what was that? Is everything okay? » from the other side of the phone, and the silence invading the air was the worst response Kuroo could ever possibly come up with. « I’ll call you back. » It was short, dry even, and the way his voice had dropped a few octaves was the last sign announcing your own end. He pressed the red button on the screen, thus cutting an end to the call. A sigh of pure exasperation had been set free from his lips, and the silence had become agonizing, the stare he was giving you paralyzed your every move, you could only muster enough strength to swallow thickly.

« I’m so— » You were cut off as soon as the sound of your voice drowned in his eardrums. « Did I give you permission to speak? » You nodded negatively. « Do you know just how spoiled you are? I let you ride on my cock because you can’t seem to get enough of it, mhm? I only ask for one thing in return and you can’t do it properly? Get off. Get off of my cock. Now. »

You did as told, respecting the oh so dear rules of performative language, and found yourself standing before him with your knees almost giving in at the severe look plastered upon his facial expression. You opened your mouth to let out another apology, but your poor attempt had been cut short as he crashed his lips onto yours so roughly he was convinced you had awakened the side of him he always tried to keep tamed.

He had enough pity for you to break the kiss once your lungs began to give up due to the lack of oxygen. « Turn around. » You did as told, awaiting for your fate. « Your arms on your back. » He spat out another order, the coldness of his tone was enough to make a trail of chills run down your spine but you obliged nonetheless. « Tetsu— » Once again, cut off. « Did I give you permission to talk? » He asked, although he already knew the answer to his own question, to which you shook your head. « I thought so too. »

The knot of his tie came out easily, having already undone it a bit earlier on, it dangled from his fingers and his free hand pressed your back against the desk, a move which earned a mewl out of you. Then, his hands travelled around your wrists, leaving a soft caress on your palm before binding his tie around your wrists in a tight hold which severely contrasted with the sweet nature of his previous gesture. You winced in response, furrowing your brows together while he was spreading out your legs. « From now on, I don’t want to hear anything. You can moan as much as you want, I don’t give a damn. Got that, kitten? » And although Kuroo always used this nickname in such a sweet way, this time it had been tarnished by a sinful tone. « Y-Yes, sir. » You choked out, a watery veil covering your oculars in anticipation.

You heard nothing but the sound of his suit pants falling to his ankles, the click of the metal of his belt echoing against the floor, followed by the sound of yet another gulp being swallowed down your throat with difficulty. His fingertips found your core, and they were met with the wetness coating the area. Were you worth cherishing? Certainly not. And yet, he took it upon his kind heart to flick your sweet bundle of nerves, alternating between circular and pinching motions to stimulate you just enough to bring you on the verge of your apex. And just when your moans followed the crescendo of your sensations, he ceased all kinds of motions with a wicked grin on his face.

You couldn’t help but whine in frustration at the sudden lack of touch, your apex hitting a harsh stop so suddenly. « What was that? You’re complaining? » Kuroo half asked, taking a fistful of your hair to orientate your head towards him. « S-Sir, no… I just need, I need… Fuck, sir, I-I need… » Your words were mere hopes against him, your mouth was mouthing unintelligible sounds which found no purpose. « You don’t even know what you’re begging for, how fucking pathetic. » He released the hold on your hair, letting your head fall against the wooden surface of his desk while a string of whimpers left your lips.

« Ah! Please, sir, p-please, just fuck me… » You pleaded, hoping that you’d bent his heart somehow. But you were greeted with a harsh slap right on your derrière in retaliation, « Did I give you permission to speak? You’re fucking lacking politeness, what a slut you are. »

And it was the last vocal warning before he slammed his hips against yours, the latter caused him to dig his pearly whites into his lower lip to prevent any unwanted groan from leaving his mouth at the sensation of your walls wrapping around his cock so tightly. ‘So fucking tight’, he thought, knowing your cunt was made for him and him only. He had to still himself for a few seconds, adjusting to the iron grip which could’ve made him come undone at this very instant, you were too eager for your own good. And yet, you wanted to beg for him to move, do something, but you had to stay silent.

« You. Just. Can’t. Stay. Fucking. Silent. » Each word was accentuated by a slam of hips, followed by the sound of his testicles slapping against your skin. How you wished to bring your fist to your mouth, to bite your poor martyr of a hand at the violence of his thrusts which seemed to increase each time he moved. Pearls of salt gathered at the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall at any given second as Kuroo’s thrusts grew more rapid and more precise, kissing effortlessly the myriad of nerves adorning the roof of your core.

The moans fell from your lips like a cascade which couldn’t reach its own end, and so the tears fell. Kuroo, on the other one hand, rolled his head back in ecstasy while maintaining an iron grip on your tied wrists, thus guarantying you to have scarlet marks.

You knew you couldn’t come undone just yet, at least not when Kuroo was feeling like this, but he was close to his own end judging by the ferocity of his thrusts making a martyr out of your poor derrière which was bound to be colored by a palette of crimson shades as well. The inferno had been set free from its chains in Kuroo’s lower stomach, the blood rushing down to his girth in anticipation for the grand finale. « Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Look at what you— Ah! Fuck, look at what you do to me, squeezing my cock so hard like the f-fucking slut you are. » Truthfully, Kuroo needed to gather all of his strength to prevent any loose grunt from leaving his lips at the same time as his curses.

But he was only a mere man facing his temptations. « C-Cum with me, now! » He spat the words in pure lustful frenzy, losing himself in his own thrust while you could only resume to moan your pleasure away. Your were digging your fingernails in your own palms behind your back, drawing crescents into your flesh in order to distract yourself from the fact you were bound to come undone at any given moment.

Your mind was spiraling into a state of blankness, your body falling numb as you witnessed the metaphorical gates of heaven opening themselves before your sins. A hot trail of liquid painted your blank canvas with stains of sins and passion, and in return, the elixir of your own pleasure leaked down the sides of his cock while he was still thrusting his cum into you, all in a cacophony of sounds of pleasure.

Then the movements ceased, leaving room for more silence and choked breath. A trail of drool leaked from your mouth onto his desk, Kuroo stared at the ceiling while trying to re-gain the control of his breathing. The harsh grip of his hands around your wrists loosened up a bit, until they turned into mere caresses. Such a contrast with his previous deeds.

Kuroo was welcomed with a dragged whimper when he pulled out, the sudden feeling of vacuity replacing in the least pleasing way possible the sensation of his cock. And while you were about to fall down on the floor, your knees shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm, Kuroo’s grave voice shook you away from your thoughts. « Don’t move. I’m going to get the silk ropes, I’m done not with you yet. »

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #kuroo #kuroo smut #haikyuu smut #kuroo fic #kuroo hcs #kuroo tetsurou #hq x reader #hq !! x reader

[fablesrose]

Tell Me a Story 2

Description: With the first interaction with Chuck almost over and done with, Dean and Y/n have to figure out how the heck this is going to work. Some mafia business goes awry, but when has anything gone to plan?

Word count: 4,581 (guys this is over twice as long as the first part, this is ridiculous)

Pairing: cop!Dean x mafia!reader

Square filled: Moodboard

Warnings: knives, pain, a little blood

Masterlist ~ Bingo Masterlist

A/n: Part two also goes with @girl-next-door-writes​ Bingo challenge! Btw this whole fic is based on me wanting to write the first part of this chapter so there's that too.

“I don’t know sir, I’m not much of a story teller.”

“Come on Dean.”

“Tell me a story.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well I’ll do my best.” Dean glanced at me, trying to decide how this would go. “If I remember right sweetheart, you called me?”

“Yeah!” I wracked my brain as quick as I could, “It was a wrong number call. I think I was trying to order take out.” Oh my gosh that was so stupid.

“But with me in a new city, a new job, I wanted to talk for a bit,” Dean squeezed my hand, “we decided to keep in touch and the rest is history!”

Chuck just looked at us for a bit, an unamused look on his face, “You’re right, you aren’t much of a story teller.”

Dean’s finger twitched against my hand, and I had to admit, that in this moment it was comforting. At least I was going to die next to a pretty nice dude.

“But whatever. You guys go claim some territory or something.”

Chuck seemed so complacent that it made a spark of anger ignite inside of me.

“Chuck, we’re not some teenage boy gang that spray paints wall-”

He had advanced towards me and had his hand roughly grabbing the base of my jaw, a few of his fingers pressing into my neck. He was just enough taller than me to wretch my face up painfully. I let out a grunt, but otherwise shut up.

“You are whatever I damn well tell you you are, Starling. Now go claim some territory.” He roughly shoved my face to let go. He quickly fixed his sleeves and patted Dean on the arm, “Sorry for touching the merchandise. You kids have fun now.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the building without a second thought.

There was a moment were nobody moved from the room. In the last few minutes it made it easy to forget that there were more than just Dean and I there. I wasn’t the highest ranking person in the room, but the list got messy sometimes.

“Alright, you heard the man,” I sighed. But still nobody moved, “I said let’s go!”

The members surrounding me rushed from their stationary positions to exit the building. I moved to follow but the tug on my arm reminded me that I was still holding Dean’s hand. I couldn’t decipher the look he had on his face, but it wasn’t a good one.

I gave him a soft nod with a squeeze of the hand before letting go and following the group. I heard his heavy footsteps behind me, but he made no effort in catching up to walk by my side.

“What a guy you got.”

I huffed, “Hello to you too Meg.”

“He’s hot. Ask if he’s got any hot friends he can hook me up with alright? Or you can just let me have him.” She nudged me a little in jest.

“Any other requests, Cockroach?”

She shoved me a bit harder, “Just don’t get in the way of my spray paint.”

I laughed as she ran up to the front of the pack, wanting to pick the spot to throw some paint.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, slouching a bit as I followed the pack, wanting to be in my own thoughts.

A hand wrapping around my shoulders caused me to stiffen and straightened my back. I glanced to my side to find that Dean was the one walking next to me now. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, maybe trying to keep up the front that Chuck gave us. I relaxed a little bit, loosened my jaw, but my posture remained straight.

“You expect someone else?” Dean kept his eyes facing forward, not even glancing in my direction.

I mimicked his expression, “The boys tend to try and get handsy.”

He hummed and patted my shoulder, “So that didn’t go to plan.”

I turned to look at him and waited until he looked at me. I shook my head softly as if to say, “Not now, not here.”

He nodded, just as softly, as if to tell me that he understood.

We walked silently down the streets, just far enough behind the group to be separate, but close enough to see where they were going. I know I said we weren’t a teenage boy gang, but sometimes I did wonder. By their behavior alone, you would think they were some stupid seventeen year olds, roughing each other up, looking for trouble. Fortunately to some, they were intimidating enough from experience for people to not try and mess with them.

By the time Dean and I caught up, Meg had already gotten the spray paint out. She would never admit it to anyone out loud, but she enjoyed this. And she was good at it too. She ordered some of the boys around, some to help her with the graffiti, others to keep watch and to keep people away.

I took a second to think, I was lousy at painting (not that I didn’t try), and I figured this was as good a time as any to talk to Dean. Now the question was how to get alone.

The answer was I had to swallow my pride.

I turned my body towards Dean, one hand at the small of his back, the other gripping the front of his shirt, “Hey guys...” That got their attention. “You’ve got this covered, right?” I bit my lip a little, trying to sell it.

“If you don’t get out of here with him right now, I will shoot you myself,” Benny was leaning against a wall with a bemused smile on his face.

I shot him a wink and grabbed Dean’s hand to pull him away, “Duly noted Gaterson.”

“You sure do know how to pick ‘em lover boy!”

Dean let out a single laugh in response as I dragged him a block away into a secluded ally way.

We walked into a shadowy area to get as much seclusion as possible. I let go of his hand and leaned against the wall. I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes which pushed my head against the bricks behind me.

“Starling?”

I sighed, “Please don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, I just meant what does it mean, why do you have it?”

I lowered my hands to see him leaning on the wall across from me, “Maybe some other time. All you need to know is everyone has nicknames around here.”

He crossed his arms, “So is lover boy my nickname now?”

I huffed out a laugh, “Nah, they’ll call you all sorts of things until something sticks.”

There was a pause. We both knew we were dancing around the real subject I pulled us away for, but I wasn’t sure I knew what to do with it.

“So that didn’t go to plan.” Dean was braver than I was.

“Yeah no shit.” I banged my head against the bricks hard enough to make a sound and tried to dig into the cement with my shoe out of frustration. “To look on the bright side—which I loathe doing by the way—we’re not dead...So there’s that.”

“There is that… Got any suggestions?”

“Why is it that you’re supposed to be the professional and I’m making all the decisions?”

“I don’t know, with your performance and cool composure, I’d say that you’re the professional in this situation.”

I sighed and closed my eyes, “The only thing I can think to do is play along. If it gets too much we can fake a breakup...” This was getting so complicated.

“Fake a breakup? As far as I’m concerned, we’re not actually dating.” I could nearly hear the smirk on his face.

“Really Dean? Really?” He chuckled in response. “Since Chuck already knows that you’re a cop I think the best thing to do is for you to go to work. Be a police officer that’s on the payroll, but be a little more involved.”

“Whatever you say sweetheart.”

I heard voices approaching the ally way that sounded familiar. Then there was a harsh shh to quiet them down.

“Shit,” I looked at Dean, grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer, “You’re gonna have to kiss me.”

I stared at me dumbfoundedly, “What?”

“Look, they think we came over here to make out, if we don’t at least look like we’re making out they’re gonna be suspicious.”

He still looked shocked.

“Shit.” I didn’t want to kiss him on the spot either, so I did the next best thing to make it look like we were making out. I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his face down next to my neck slightly angling his body to cover me. The sudden motion caused him to catch himself with his hands against the wall on either side of me.

He wasn’t touching me, but I could feel his startled breathing against my neck. I ran my hand along the back of his neck and through his hair. It was extremely soft. I started making little noises and muttering Dean’s name. To sell the act, naturally.

Dean, once he recovered from his freezing shock started to brush the tip of his nose against my skin which startled me.

I heard a whistle from the end of the ally, “Yeah Ms. Starling! Get some!” The group rounded the corner to see us there. I flipped them off, making them laugh.

I gently tugged at the back of his collar to say it was okay to part now. As he straightened himself I caught his face and left a soft kiss on his cheek.

The group had started to disperse and go their separate ways since we were done putting on a show because they “caught” us.

Dean and I walked side by side out of the ally, by the time we got to the entrance our previous companions had all gone their separate ways.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” I started to walk the way we came, back towards the wall Meg was working on.

“No, uh, that was smart of you,” he jogged to catch up with me and shoved his hands into his pockets.

The walk was silent around the block.

Eventually we arrived to see what Meg had done. She had out done herself once again. The wall was covered with a silhouette of an angel. It’s wings were burning as the figure fell. It was intricate as only Meg could be. There were a few lone charred feathers across the wall as well. In the bottom corner an F was painted as if it had fallen over.

“It’s beautiful. How’d she get if done so fast?” Dean stared at the wall in awe.

I nodded, agreeing with him, “I’m pretty sure she made a demon deal, but I don’t know.” I pointed at the painting, “This is just street art, but this,” I pointed at the F, “makes it Fallen territory. Watch for it.” I patted the wall where there wasn’t any paint, “Alright, I’ll call you if something comes up you need to be at. Any questions?”

“Nope, I guess I’ll see you around Miss Y/n.”

I side-eyed him with a smirk before I started to walk towards my apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something like a week passed. It was relatively quiet, me minding my own business. I thought it was almost too quiet when I got a call from Meg.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Letterboys are causing some trouble on 5th Avenue. You wanna bring your boy toy to help sort this out?”

I hummed, “I was just thinking that it was getting boring around here. I’ll give him a call and head over.”

“See you, Starling.”

“Uh huh.” I hung up on her and dialed up Dean. I was redirected to his voicemail.

“This is Dean, you know what to do.”

“Hey, we’ve got a territory dispute over on 5th Ave, if you’ve got time you can stop by.”

I left it at that and headed out to show some mafia wannabes that territories aren’t to be messed with. It didn’t take long to see Meg standing off against a guy, maybe twenty-three years old.

“Everyone paired off already?”

“Yeah, I think there’s a straggler that headed west though, you wanna pick him up?”

I slapped her shoulder, “Yeah, I got it.”

I heard her start to make small talk with her challenger, he didn’t stand a chance, “So, how’s the other side of town?”

I chuckled as I started heading West, checking all the nooks and crannies. I eventually came up on a kid walking down an ally, his hood was up, head down.

“Hey kid, you lookin’ for something?”

He looked up at me, “Just heading home ma’am.”

I nodded, “Alright, just, have you happened to see anyone running around with a pointy triangle-ish mark on their wrist?”

He didn’t respond, he just pulled out a switchblade. How cute.

“Look kid, you look too young for this, and I’m too old for this, so why don’t you head back where you came from.” As I spoke I pulled out my own, slightly larger, switchblade.

It seemed like he didn’t want to talk anymore because he started to charge at me.

I smiled, “Alright, have it your way.”

I dodged him at first, but then I started to cut him just enough to sting. That seemed to make him angry to the point where he caught me a couple times too. I started cutting a little bit deeper, hoping he would give up.

“Okay, you’re obviously out of your league, why don’t you go home?”

He made a jab at me, to which I grabbed his wrist to stop him. What I didn’t expect was for him to toss the blade into his other hand and slice a fairly deep cut into my side.

“Dammit!” I shoved him away onto the ground and pulled out my gun from the back of my waistband. I pointed it at him and stepped on the hand with the switchblade, “That’s enough of that.”

He spit some blood onto the cement from the split lip I gave him at some point, “Cheater!”

“Hey, you’re the idiot that brought a knife to a gun fight.”

A single bleep from a siren sounded off behind me. I turned my head to see an unmarked police vehicle  on the street.

“Ah, Detective Castiel, nice to see you!” I kept the gun pointed at the kid on the ground. He may not have been the smartest, but he was smart enough to not move.

“Y/n, if you shoot that kid I’m going to have to arrest you.” He didn’t sound amused as he walked around the car.

“I’m only going to shoot him if he tries to stab me again,” I stared at the kid pointedly, “got it?”

He nodded sadly.

I looked back at Cas, “You know, this kid was looking to cause some trouble, so really I’m doing your job for you.”

“Sure.”

“Is that a new trench coat? It looks nice.”

“It is, thank you. Are you going to let him go now?”

“I don’t know,” I looked back at the kid, “are you going to go home and not cause any trouble if I let you go?”

He nodded again.

I stopped pointing my gun at him and stepped off of his hand. He scrambled up and ran back the way he came.

I put my gun back into the back of my waistband, “Kids these days.” I popped my hip as I turned to fully face Cas for the first time tonight, “Chuck still wants you on the payroll, by the way.”

“And you already know what my answer is, Y/n,” he leaned back against the car behind him.

I sighed, “Yeah I do. You’re a good man and a good cop, Cas.”

He smiled, a rare occurrence, but I didn’t mention it. “You’re a good person too, Y/n.”

I laugh halfheartedly, “If you say so… If you say so.” I crossed my arms and felt the wet stickiness from my side, reminding me of my injury. “Anyway, Meg should be about a block east of here if you want to go say hi.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah I should see if you guys are causing any other trouble.”

I turned on my heel to head home and clean myself up, “Love you too Cas!”

I heard the car start and drive off behind me. I finally looked down at the cut to see how bad it was. I was wearing a black shirt, so the blood didn’t show, making it difficult to see just how bad it was. From what I could tell, it was a few inches across. I couldn’t tell just how deep it was, but the cut was positioned over my ribs, so it didn’t damage anything important. Luckily the kid’s knife was sharp, so it would heal faster as it didn’t tear the skin, unfortunately the kid’s knife was sharp, so it went deeper.

I pressed one hand against the wound while I walked back to my apartment. On the way my phone buzzed from a text.

Dean: Hey, sorry, I was called out. Did you still need some help over on 5th?

Me: No, it’s taken care of. I’m heading home now.

Dean: Okay.

I put my phone away and continued home. Eventually I was able to unlock my apartment, careful not to get blood anywhere. I headed straight to the bathroom, stripping off my shirt and tossing my phone on my table on the way. I held it to the cut while I dug around for the first aid kit and once I found it I tossed the soaked shirt into the sink.

I turned the water on, getting a washcloth wet. I started cleaning around the cut to get a better look at it, having to rinse out the washcloth a couple of times to prevent just smearing blood around.

It was still bleeding, but the pressure I put on it caused it to slow down. Once I got a good look at it I could tell it wasn’t going to cause too many problems other than taking a while to heal and being sore.

A knock came to the door. I was obviously not prepared for visitors, so I left it be. It was probably one of the neighbors, they liked to check in every once in a while. I hoped they would just move on. They knocked one more time before my phone rang in the other room. I really should have just turned it off.

Finally the phone stopped ringing, but not a moment later I heard the creek of my front door opening. I reached for my gun the was still in my pants.

“Y/n? It’s Dean, I’m coming in okay? Your door is open.”

I sighed in relief and placed my gun on the counter, “Okay.”

I heard some rustling of what I assumed was him taking his coat off and the click of the lock sliding into place.

I pulled out some cotton pads and soaked one in rubbing alcohol. I just looked at it for a second, not wanting to clean the wound, but knowing I had to. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, preparing myself for the sting.

“I thought you said everything was taken care of.” I looked up to see Dean in the doorway. He had a hard look on his face.

“No, I said the problem was taken care of.” I relaxed against the back of the toilet, knowing that I had a second before I was going to clean my side.

He walked in and took the saturated cotton pad from my hand, “That looks like a problem to me.”

I tensed up in preparation for him to clean it once he started to approach me, “Something like that.”

He hesitated, “You want something to numb it?”

I let go of the breath I was holding, “Yeah, uh, whiskey’s in the kitchen.”

He stood up to go get it, leaving the cotton pad on the counter. He came back with the glass bottle and handed it to me. I took a couple of swigs before placing it on the counter next to the rest of the first aid supplies. I felt myself relax a little bit. I heard a clatter as I knocked something to the floor in the process though. I bent to pick it up, my body protesting a little bit, but I picked it up all the same.

“What’s that? On your back?”

I instantly knew he was talking about the black tattoo that was at the base of my neck, in a spot that my shirt would cover.

I turned so he could see them better, “They’re wings.”

He traced them for a moment before I turned back around, “You wanna get started on this please?”

He grabbed the cotton, “Yeah, of course. They’re beautiful.”

I hissed in response as he started to brush the alcohol along the wound. I clenched my jaw so hard it started to ache, I whimpered before biting down on my fist.

Dean paused and pulled on my hand, taking it from my mouth, “Hey, hey, focus on me. Why don’t you tell me a story, huh? Focus on something else.”

I was breathing heavily, “Like what.”

“What does Starling mean? Why’d you get that tattoo?”

“And why would you want to know that?”

He squeezed my hand, “Because you’re supposed to be my girlfriend, and I think I would know these things.” He smirked because he knew he backed me into a corner.

I groaned as he touched my side again, “Fine.” I took a deep breath, “As you already know everyone needs a nickname. I was called a lot of different things, some more… savory, appropriate than others. I don’t know why, but I always seemed to be favored by Nick, by Crowley. I got my name under Nick, but that doesn’t matter.”

I gasped as Dean pressed particularly deep to which he apologized.

“I was being bossy one day. Nobody was listening, I had just got back from an infiltration job. Someone, they’re not around anymore, they called me a stupid Starling, and it stuck.  Starlings in North America are considered an invasive species, terribly annoying, and unwanted.” Dean gave me a break to get a new cotton pad to finish up, “Tattoo means the same once something is solidified, you get a tattoo representing your name and a Fallen symbol.” I pulled my ear forward and showed Dean the fallen F tattooed behind it, just like the one next to the angel Meg painted.

“Well, I think they look like angel wings.” Dean came back and started cleaning the last little corner and around the edge.

“Really? Black angel wings?” I tried not to flinch as he caught the edge a little roughly.

“Yeah, I do, Angel.” He threw away the cotton with a small smile on his face.

I laughed, “Okay, yeah, sure.”

Dean looked at the wound closely, “I think I’m gonna have to stitch it up, just so it’ll heal faster.”

“You know how to do that?” I gestured to the first aid kit, knowing that stitching supplies were there, I had to do some myself every once in a while.

“I’m decent.” He started sterilizing the needle with a lighter he had in his pocket before cooling it off with the rubbing alcohol. “So how’d you get this in the first place?”

The stitching process was still painful, but not as bad as the cleaning. “Letterboys were roaming our side of town, looking for trouble.”

“Letterboys?”

I snorted, “They call themselves Lettermen, don’t ask me why, I have no idea. Really, they’re gang wannabes, so we call them Letterboys.”

Dean tugged at the needle to tighten a stitch, “Uh, huh. And if they’re so pathetic why’d you get this thing?”

I huffed out a laugh, “This idiot brought a knife to a gun fight and I played along for a little too long.”

“Ah, makes total sense.”

“So, how was work in a new city?” I wiped around my eyes to make sure I didn’t have any tears showing.

“Uh, it was alright,” he tied off the last stitch, “transfer information is still being worked out, but they’re thinking about pairing me up with this Detective Castiel or whatever.”

I smiled, “That’ll be good. Cas is a good guy. I actually saw him tonight.”

“Was that before or after you got injured?”

“After.”

Dean looked at me skeptically, “If he’s such a good guy, why didn’t he take you to the doctor or something? Is he in with Chuck?”

“Nah, it was dark, I was wearing that black shirt, I didn’t let him notice. And no, he’s the farthest person from Chuck you could get. He’s tried to take Chuck down a couple of times actually, gotten close too. That’s why Chuck desperately wants him to join, but Cas has the same answer every time, not in his right mind would he ever join.”

“So he’s trustworthy,” Dean nodded, satisfied.

“To an extent, yes.” I examined his handiwork, I was impressed. “You can’t tell him you’re into this though, not that you’re undercover, not that you know me. He’s already too deep into this and if he changes his behavior, thinking there’s a chance he can help you take Chuck down? Chuck will get suspicious and everything will fall apart, okay?”

“Understood.”

I stood up, testing the stitches, “Good.” I started cleaning up the counter and putting stuff away when Dean stopped me and started cleaning up himself. “Thanks,” I headed towards my bedroom and grabbed a new shirt to throw on. I groaned involuntarily when my stitches stretched as I pulled it over my head.

“You okay in there?” Dean asked from the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I changed into some sweatpants while I was there.

“Do you wanna keep this or...” He trailed off as I walked out in a shirt that looked very similar to the one in the sink.

“Nah, I’ll just toss it,” I pulled at the hem of my shirt, “these are pretty cheap.” I wrung out the shirt as best I could and walked into the kitchen to throw it away, “The bathroom was just in the opposite direction of my gross trash.” I washed my hands, “Thank you, can I get you anything?”

“Another fake make-out session?”

I snorted, “And why would you ever want that?”

“Because it was hot.” Dean had a teasing smirk on his face as he followed my example. “But for real, do you have a beer Angel?”

I reached into the fridge to grab us some, “You’re serious about calling me that?”

He popped it open easily, “Yeah, I think it’s cute.”

I shook my head and walked to my couch with a beer in hand and curled up into the side, “So.” I gestured for Dean to join me, “What was so important that you knocked on my door twice, called me, and then walked into my apartment anyway?”

He groaned in embarrassment, “Well, it’s not important anymore…”

I laughed, “Oh come on Dean, tell me a story.”

Best Buds: @kitkatd7​ @snarky--starky​ @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @kaogasm ​

Dean: @akshi8278​ @msmarvelouswinchester

#dean x reader #cop au #mafia au #cop!dean #spncreatorsdaily #mafia!reader #Girl Next Door's Make Me Feel Bingo #make me feel bingo #tell me a story 2 #dean winchester #moodboard

[forasecondtherewedwon]

The Great Madripoorian Snake Off - ch. 2

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: E Chapter count: 2/2

Read ch. 1 on Tumblr.

Chapter two summary: Sam and Bucky get tossed out of Selby’s bar and it’s the perfect (more or less) opportunity to discuss their kiss.

Sam sincerely believed that, between the three of them (including Zemo with his pompous swanning and Bucky with his identity a single glove away from being revealed), he wouldn’t be the one to mess this up. But there goes his phone, ringing away in his jacket pocket.

He reaches in and presses a thumb to the screen, swiping desperately as his heart rate climbs. Selby’s eyes on him are nasty things; she doesn’t rise from her seat and yet it feels like she’s bobbing and swaying, hypnotizing him how a snake would. The thought provokes a nauseated rumble from Sam’s stomach and maybe Selby hears that now that his phone is silent. Or maybe she doesn’t, what with the ominous sound of the handful of armed men in the room adjusting their grip on their guns.

“Answer it,” she orders.

Sam extracts the phone from his pocket and holds it up to show that the call’s already been declined.

“Well,” Selby says, unswerving gaze on his face, “call back.”

“I don’t think I better…” Sam hedges nervously.

“Listen to me, Smiling Tiger. I don’t trust you and my tolerance of your presence is really beginning to wear thin.”

“I know what you mean,” Bucky mutters, standing next to Sam.

“What was that?” Selby asks.

“I said, uh, don’t be mean. To him.” After an awkward pause, Bucky lifts an arm (thankfully not the Vibranium one, though based on how badly this encounter is going, Sam wouldn’t have been surprised) and wraps it stiffly around Sam’s shoulders. “My husband.”

What Sam would like to do is call Bucky an idiot, but what he does is lean slightly into Bucky’s hold. On the inside, he’s cursing Bucky to Steve’s rumoured moon base and back. This is how you do it, he thinks. This is how you exorcise your feelings about what a bonehead your associate is without running your mouth in front of the person clearly itching to shoot you.

“Call back on speakerphone,” Selby instructs, ignoring Bucky because she doesn’t seem to consider his fumbled response worth addressing. “Now.”

Sam redials Sarah. He better not be sweating. He can just fucking imagine a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead while he’s bent over his phone, visibly splashing the surface. Bucky’s shared anxiety is obvious in the way he hugs Sam more securely to his side. Not really a hug though. Feels more like Bucky preparing to yank them both to the floor when this terrible cover story goes to hell and the bullets start to fly.

By what honestly feels like a miracle, Sarah does the thing she always does, which usually irritates Sam, but today he loves her for it. She ignores his call. They’ve been doing this forever. It’s a subtle sibling fuck you to the other person whenever one of them returns a call only a minute or two after being called. It says, Oh, so you were close enough to your phone to call me back fast, but couldn’t bother answering it when my name popped up? Knowing Sarah, she’ll be standing in the same spot she was when he dismissed her call, staring down at his name on her screen, with that damn expression of sisterly superiority.

To Selby, Sam shrugs and pockets his phone when Sarah fails to pick up.

“I really have had enough of you. You too,” Selby says, looking pointedly at the pain in the ass who has his arm draped around Sam. “Get out of my sight while I have a discussion with Baron Zemo. In fact, get out of my bar. Someone’ll show you the way.”

“Easy,” Sam says in a low voice when a member of Selby’s security team puts a hand on his shoulder to hustle him towards the back exit. The guy does it to Bucky too, but Bucky says nothing. Sure. Being manhandled by an employee he could easily drop? Silence. Hearing a comment made by the boss and not even directed at him? The perfect opportunity to insult Sam. Bucky’s such a dick.

“Yeah, we got it,” Bucky finally says after Selby’s guy has the door to the alley propped open, prepared to shove them through it.

The guy backs off, but Sam and Bucky still step outside quickly to avoid the closing door.

Sam glances up and down the alleyway, then up the grimy walls. No sign of cameras and only one end of the alley is open to the street a dozen yards away. The other dead-ends at a hulking dumpster. With this very un-luxurious, private place to talk won at the cost of them pissing off an extremely dangerous player in a game to which Sam is still fumbling to open the rulebook, Sam rounds on Bucky. He jabs a finger towards his chest without actually touching him because he doesn’t actually want Bucky to feel threatened. Also, the last touch he instigated between them was firm contact between his palm and Bucky’s ass. So. He doesn’t really know what to do about that, or his hands, or Bucky standing before him in what’s seriously too narrow of an alley. Who designed this place?

“You can’t act like that,” Sam says. “Are you trying to get us killed? This is a mission.”

“You think I forgot? I’m not confused, Sam,” Bucky contends with a frown. “I know I didn’t accidentally go on vacation to fucking Madripoor, ok?”

“Well, then you better prove it by watching your mouth.”

“I was thinking about your mouth!”

The words erupt from Bucky and Sam nearly backs into a wall in surprise. He only stops himself because he remembers the expensive suit and that keeping up appearances is the best they can do at this point, since their acting as soon as they speak is a disaster.

“Now?” Sam asks when annoyance overtakes shock. “When I said we’d talk about it later, I was thinking hours, maybe days. Not while we were still on the premises!”

He motions at the wall, but Bucky cocks his head, looking unconcerned.

“We’re beside the premises, if you wanna be technical about it.”

“I don’t.”

“Too bad. Say what you wanna say,” Bucky encourages with a wave before planting both hands on his hips. “About us kissing.”

“I don’t have anything to say about that either.”

Despite the straight length of wall at his back, Sam’s feeling cornered. He wasn’t expecting Bucky to be the one willing to introduce a dialogue about this. He didn’t really think Bucky would have anything to say about the kiss period. But now the asshole has decided that the best way to spend their time exiled from Selby’s is to talk about their act of intimacy. With his face flooded by blue neon light and his stance sexy in how self-possessed it makes him look. They kissed and now Bucky Barnes—world champion of menacing, wordless staring—wants to talk.

The thing is that they kissed while Bucky was pretending to be his husband and Sam was forgetting to pretend anything. It felt too good. He’d wanted it too long. He wants it again, now, still, with Bucky against a backdrop of dirty bricks, dipped in light so blue it almost vibrates Sam’s eyes. Bucky looks like he’s trying to sell Sam designer cologne and Sam shouldn’t feel drawn in by this, but he wants to buy the danger this cologne model is selling. He wants to get a good grip on Bucky’s black jacket and hear him whisper “Madripoor Pour Homme” in his ear on a warm exhale.

“You gotta go first,” Bucky insists. “You’re the one who wanted to talk about it.”

“Because I thought you would want to explain yourself.”

“We’re supposed to be married, you looked like you were gonna upchuck looking at that snake, I ran interference in a way that seemed appropriate for our cover.”

Bucky’s method of laying it out so straightforwardly is absolutely infuriating.

“To stop me from throwing up,” Sam clarifies angrily.

“Yes.”

“If you were really worried about that, you wouldn’t have kissed me.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause you woulda been afraid that I’d throw up all over your face.”

“So what are you saying?” Bucky demands. “That I was hoping you’d throw up on my face?”

Sam laughs.

“God, I hope not. Just that your reasoning is bullshit and you must’ve kissed me for some other reason that you haven’t said.”

Bucky’s gaze flicks to the ground, then back up. His face is angled slightly differently and the blue light does his bone structure favours that it was already too beautiful to ever need to ask for.

“Like what?” he asks softly. And the noise of the people talking and shouting on the street at the end of the alleyway dims below the volume of Sam’s heart thudding in his ears.

Sam doesn’t get a chance to answer; the door they came through bangs open—a hollow clang as it hits the wall and the security guy sticks his head out to check on them, looking the wrong way first. Rougher than he was at the bar, Bucky grabs Sam’s face. Sam closes his eyes as Selby’s man glances towards them, cutting off sight to be hit all the harder by the urgent feeling of Bucky’s mouth moving against, then with, his own. It’s a mess because Bucky kisses like he’s being awarded on most vigorous performance, his tongue prodding eagerly between Sam’s lips in a motion more commonly seen in bullet extractions.

By the time he hears the door shut again—without the guy bothering to even try to interrupt (meaning Selby must not want them back in the negotiating room that badly)—Sam feels as if he’s had his mouth more thoroughly fucked in thirty seconds than the rest of him’s ever been.

Bucky’s even gotten him against the wall and Sam acts like he’s pissed about that, shooting Bucky a look as he gently pushes him back and brushes at the sleeve of his jacket. His first breath free of that kiss is a pant.

“Man, do you only know one way to solve a problem?”

Bucky looks back challengingly.

“I only need one way if it’s the best way.”

Sam attempts to ignore Bucky’s gaze dropping from his eyes to his lips as he says, “Based on what criteria?”

“Selby’s guy left us alone, didn’t he? That means Zemo’s in there flailing without us, without being able to… to rip the rug out from under me by telling her who I really am—”

“Were.”

“—or blowing your cover to see what kinda information she’d give up in exchange for an Avenger.”

“And kissing me was the best way to accomplish that.”

“Well… yeah,” Bucky decides. But his expression is squirrely, so Sam narrows his eyes at him.

“We coulda left the neighbourhood if you wanted to leave Zemo high and dry after flying all the way out here.”

“We still need him to help us get answers on that serum. If he didn’t think we were around, he’d go to ground. Wouldn’t be hard to find him again, just a waste of time.”

“You’re just… committed to our story then,” Sam tests.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not difficult for you.”

“Obviously,” Bucky agrees.

“Better or worse than having to take on everybody in that bar with your bare hands?” Sam asks. When Bucky just stares at him, he goes, “What? You know that’s what Zemo would’ve wanted from you if you’d consented to play the part of the Winter Soldier.”

Bucky exhales heavily and nods.

“Yeah, this is better.”

“Just the lack of violence or having to make out with me?” Sam pushes, grinning.

“I don’t have to.”

“Oh, so you want to then.”

Sam’s trying to be playful, finding loopholes in the slack rope of Bucky’s words, trying to make room for some humour, some levity, between these filthy walls and the beam of neon from above. There is something in Bucky’s eyes right then. Something understanding, something kind. Whatever it is, Bucky immediately shores it up with a metric tonne of intensity. His look now could pull Sam from a burning building while simultaneously being that burning building. It’s almost physically disorienting. The temperature rises inside Sam’s suit like the heat’s being trapped at every seam.

“So what if I do?” Bucky fires back.

“You don’t.”

Sam says it almost angrily, too warm and too confined in his Smiling Tiger disguise. At least the guy he’s impersonating isn’t into weighty coats with ostentatious fur collars like some barons Sam knows. Still, it’s too hot—the suit and Bucky’s stare.

“I don’t?” Bucky asks.

“I don’t think so,” Sam confirms, though he’s dizzy now. Needing to remove a layer of this suit, needing Bucky to step back to let him breathe.

“Why would you think that I wouldn’t want to make out with you?”

“Because you’re… you!”

“That explanation sucks.”

“Because,” Sam tries again. Bucky lifts his chin in a questioning gesture and Sam just wants to propel him back into the far wall and kiss his neck. “Because you’re an asshole.”

“Since when am I an asshole?”

“Birth, probably, but I wasn’t there when it happened three hundred years ago, so I can’t say for sure.”

“I was born last century, same as you, and you know that!”

“Can’t confirm it. Wasn’t part of the backstory.”

“Now who’s the asshole?” Bucky gripes. “You’re not supposed to know my fake birthday because you’re my fake husband, you’re supposed to know my real birthday because you’re my real friend.”

“I do know your real birthday,” Sam promises, taking a step closer regardless of the flush of heat he feels to be moving towards Bucky’s rigid posture and pinning stare.

“You my real friend?”

“Something like that.”

“Something like that,” Bucky repeats, quieter, barely looking away from Sam’s mouth now.

“We’re not telling the story out here,” Sam says. He glances up and down the alley again. “No witnesses.”

“Good. I don’t wanna pretend.”

Sam’s shoulders relax—not in relief but in disappointment—because that sounds like it’s the end of that. After all that talk, culminating in a short debate of which one of them’s an asshole: pretty much peak flirting, Sam would say, measured against their history of interactions. But then Bucky takes a step too soft for Sam to hear and hits him with a look too soft for Sam to misinterpret.

“Or we could say it was the snake drink’s fault if we want an excuse later on,” Sam offers.

Bucky quickly wets his lip with his tongue.

“We could.”

Sam’s hand goes to the buttons on his suit jacket. It’s a motion of self-consciousness, grasping the overlap of fabric between the buttons, but Bucky knocks his hand away with an easy backhand that skims over Sam’s fingers. Eyes locked on his, Bucky undoes the buttons while Sam’s arms hang tensely at his sides. Although the jacket wasn’t restricting his breathing, Sam inhales fast—a swimmer breaking the surface of a pool between strokes.

When he slowly guides Bucky in, hand on his hip, the open jacket doesn’t make a hell of a lot of difference in what’s separating them. That’s what Sam thinks. Bucky’s cyborg brain has evidently done some data-crunching and come up with a different assessment; there’s more than just the length of a knife in the front of Bucky’s pants now as he presses up against Sam.

“You undid one button,” Sam teases. “Is that indecent by forties’ standards? That why one button’s enough to get you going?”

“Let’s see how you feel about one button.”

Sam’s abs seize when Bucky’s hands go—abruptly and confidently—to his belt. He’s as efficient getting it open as Sam’s seen him when dismantling and reassembling an assault weapon or tugging the straps on a tac jacket to secure his knives. Following the jingling and the slap of leather, Bucky opens the button of Sam’s dress pants with a single, silent tug. Sam’s cock jerks.

“Ok, I get it,” he says, breathing too hard over the way Bucky’s chosen to make his point.

He smiles and clasps Bucky’s shoulder, smoothing up to the back of his head, ready to pull him in for a kiss, but Bucky raises a hand between them. A hand concealed by a leather glove. As Sam watches, Bucky bites the tip of the glove’s middle finger between his teeth and pulls his hand out. It comes easily, the Vibranium experiencing little friction against the lining of the glove. He then retrieves the glove from his teeth and jams it into the back pocket of his pants, out of Sam’s line of sight.

“Keep going?” Bucky asks in a rough voice.

Is his tone sexy despite or because of it being choked with desire? Sam can’t decide, but he can nod and provide a “Yeah” while longing for Bucky to just press his hips closer.

Continued eye contact is too fucking much to deal with, so Sam does pull Bucky in now, angling his mouth to meet his. The kiss isn’t anything wild. It’s steady and apparently allows Bucky to concentrate on untucking Sam’s shirt from his unbuttoned pants. Sam’s cradling the back of Bucky’s neck, rubbing his thumb up and down behind his ear (after almost immediately discovering the way it makes Bucky subtly shiver) when the Vibranium hand slips up under his shirt to touch his skin.

The initial surprisingness of the texture is enough to reinforce how unexpected this whole thing is and Sam breaks the kiss. It’s like waking up from a really lifelike dream, except he opens his eyes to see Bucky’s right in front of him. Around them is an alley, a bar where Zemo’s trading money and ass-kissing for super-soldier secrets, and the terrifying lawlessness of Low Town, Madripoor. This is where they had to be for Bucky to look at him like that.

“We’re not done,” Sam states.

“Thought maybe you…”

Sam shakes his head.

“I want to too,” he assures Bucky. “Even if you are a bad husband.”

“What? I am not!”

“You didn’t get me out of swallowing a piece of snake.”

“And I’m damn sure we agreed that you forcing me to join you evened the score. You can’t decide now that it wasn’t enough.”

Sam squints at him, slowly blinking half a minute into the eye contact to prove that it’s not a staring contest. (If it were, he would’ve won.)

“Maybe you didn’t really drink it,” he says.

“Like hell I didn’t drink it. I know you can taste it on me.”

“You know what?” Sam says, fingers rubbing against the grain of Bucky’s hair as they skate up from his neck. “It’s fucked up that I still want to kiss you after you said that.”

“You want me to find a place to buy mints first?”

Bucky’s huffing a laugh as Sam leans in to kiss him. His mouth smothers the sound and by the time their lips part again—both Bucky’s hands up Sam’s shirt as far as his burgundy vest will permit—a quavering groan slips out. Sam wants to attribute it to Bucky, but he can’t be sure. Kissing him harder, Sam puts his free hand squarely on Bucky’s ass, bringing his hips in snugly, feeling the assertive swell of his erection.

“They’re gonna come looking for us again,” Bucky warns, forehead pressed to Sam’s as he pulls his mouth away to speak. “We probably only have a few minutes.”

Sam breathes, listening to the noise from the street, before saying, “How would Smiling Tiger’s husband spend them?”

“Since he’s not a real guy,” Bucky starts, “and I’m just making him up… I’m pretty sure he’d do this…”

His hands come out from under Sam’s shirt, only to settle on his fly. Bucky unzips him and Sam’s head falls back with a laugh of disbelief because they’re not doing this. No way, not here. But this bold motherfucker convinces Sam he’s serious when he pulls the front of his pants and briefs down; Sam looks downwards, alert and aflame, to watch Bucky crouch with one knee on the pavement, eyes level with his exposed groin.

“This seem in character to you?” Bucky asks nonchalantly, forehead wrinkling with the question as he looks up at Sam.

“As if I’m gonna start critiquing,” Sam says while grabbing the waist of his pants with one hand to keep his ass covered as he rotates to put his back to the open end of the alleyway—and the door, if anyone else comes through it.

Bucky repositions to be in front of Sam. His hand’s gliding up Sam’s thigh when Sam speaks again.

“Remember, the story is that you do this so well that I’ve postponed wearing a wedding ring.”

“No pressure then, huh?” Bucky checks in a tone full of complaint.

“It was your story!”

Bucky’s mouth is abruptly too occupied to shoot off a retort. All the air goes out of Sam’s chest with the warmth of Bucky’s mouth around him, his tongue making Sam fight not to twitch his hips forward and sink deeper. Glancing down, yeah, it’s not tough to appreciate the deal Smiling Tiger struck in that story of Bucky’s. This is not a sight Sam hates. He thinks it could only be better if Bucky would look at him while bobbing his head forward and back, but, first of all, being on the receiving end of a Bucky Barnes stare in this moment might actually be more than Sam’s ready to handle and, second, Bucky with his eyes closed in apparent pleasure is a damn nice view.

The door slams open behind them just as Sam’s raising a shaky hand to scrape his fingers through Bucky’s hair. Bucky freezes and Sam straightens, hand aching with how tightly he’s suddenly holding onto his pants.

“James? Sam?” Zemo calls out. “You’re going to need to— What are you doing?”

“I dropped my… glove,” Bucky shouts back, looking up into Sam’s eyes in unfamiliar panic.

“Yeah…” Sam says, too slow but consistent with his subpar ability to lie. “…his glove. He lost—”

“Found it!”

“He found it.”

Sam glares at Bucky as he gets to his feet and withdraws the glove from his back pocket, waving it out to the side. He leans around Sam and gives Zemo a nod. Sam doesn’t turn his head far enough to get Zemo in his peripheral vision—and doesn’t turn his body at all because the only way he could hate Zemo more is if he had to live with the knowledge that he’d seen his dick, shining with Bucky’s saliva—but he’s plenty aware of the long silence the Baron does not fill following the delivery of the lie about the glove.

Eventually (and the wait is excruciating), Zemo says in a smug little voice, “Well, gentlemen, I await your return,” and closes the door. Sam doesn’t trust the Baron to have shut the door, but he does trust the sag of Bucky’s posture. They’re alone.

“Zemo’s gone,” Bucky says, returning the glove to his pocket, “and he knows.”

“Of course he knows, Buck! Did you just forget how to lie?”

“I…!”

Clearly floundering, Bucky motions to Sam’s cock with both hands. It’d be easy, and truthful, for Sam to admit that he was also too distracted to react well, but he’s not gonna throw Bucky that kind of lifeline.

Sam hitches his briefs up at the front; the discomfort of the band pushing against his shaft is worse than the awkwardness. Thinking about how many hours it might be until he and Bucky have an opportunity to continue this in a more private, Zemo-less space makes Sam want to do something really stupid, something Bucky would do, like punch the brick wall in aggravation. Problem is that Bucky’s Vibranium fist would go clean through while Sam might break his hand.

“Sexually frustrated?” Bucky asks bluntly.

So the punch-the-wall plan must’ve shown in Sam’s face.

“I’m fine,” Sam lies, belt buckle clinking as he starts putting his clothes in order.

A steady hand lands on his wrist and Sam glances up and into Bucky’s eyes. He swallows. Rather than help—refastening what he undid before—Bucky worms his hand into Sam’s briefs and wraps warm fingers around him. No, not again. Sam is not going to be the only one standing here with his dick out a second time. He runs his hand over Bucky’s chest and presses, turning them so Bucky has his back to the wall. Bucky’s hand stays loose on his cock until Sam grips him through his pants. Then, Bucky’s pumping away as Sam’s jerking his belt open—the material a sharp, ropey weave like Bucky’s tac straps in contrast to the buttery leather of Sam’s belt. Hastily, Sam gets into his pants, stretching and pawing, twisting his wrist to reach in and smooth his palm down Bucky’s length.

Their eyes meet and it’s holding hands in the car all over again.

It’s a race to the first grunt, the first groan, the first involuntary buck of the hips. Bucky’s zipper scratches at Sam’s forearm but that’s nothing, not worth letting go when he can see the glistening sweat at Bucky’s temple. Sam adjusts his grip to make a firm fist, completing long, merciless strokes that rip a rough gasp from Bucky. Of course, then he’s gotta retaliate and Sam can barely keep his shit together when Bucky pulls his hand out only to spit in the palm before thrusting it back into Sam’s pants.

“We can’t,” Bucky grits out.

“I know.”

But they keep going, Sam mentally crossing his fingers and his toes that Bucky won’t get to watch his knees wobble or his legs fold. He could swear he has Bucky on the ropes when that idiot starts pulsing his grip, tensing and relaxing his hold. His eyes are dark and unblinking as blue light seeps over them.

Sam’s overwhelming desire is to come all over Bucky’s hand, but the more responsible part of him reminds him that he’s going to have to walk back into Selby’s bar to somehow assist Zemo with the information negotiation and letting Bucky jerk him off in these expensive pants won’t help him accomplish that. He doesn’t want to bring what’s happening out here back in there, doesn’t want this thing between them reduced to part of Smiling Tiger’s fiction.

“Fuck, ok, stop!” Sam blurts.

Bucky stills immediately, not hiding his smirk when Sam takes his hand back. Bucky’s stays down the front of Sam’s pants until it’s in the way of Sam tucking his shirt back in. He clenches his teeth as he fixes his underwear, zips his pants to strain over the bulge he was so close to letting Bucky take care of. He catches Bucky with the same look on his face.

“The serum,” Sam says, attempting to refocus them both.

“Yeah. Maybe Zemo’s coaxed a lead out of Selby by now.”

Sam can’t contain his laugh.

“You better hope he has or else the only thing you achieved by breaking him out of jail was having him as a witness while you blew me.”

Bucky turns away from him so quickly that Sam knows he’s not mad; he has to be hiding his own smile. They stand there, shuffling in place for a couple more minutes. Right when Sam’s about to propose that they head inside, the side door flies open for the third time and Zemo staggers out, chased by the rapid, overlapping pops of several guns.

“Are you serious?!” Sam demands. The three of them sprint down the alley, heading for the crowded street.

Bucky channels his annoyance into a wordless shout at Zemo.

“I don’t know what went wrong,” Zemo yelps when Sam grabs his arm, hauling him around the corner as they emerge onto the street. “People usually find me very trustworthy, very persuasive.”

Sam glances at Bucky, who looks away guiltily.

“I don’t know…” Zemo pants. “…how to make this small… misunderstanding… up to you.”

“Just run!” Sam suggests. Feet pounding alongside Bucky’s as they dart down a side street, he says, “You think it’s time for you to use that knife?”

“Oh yeah,” Bucky says, like he only just remembered he has one.

Without breaking his stride, he slides the knife from his pocket, half-turns, and zings it backwards. Sam doesn’t turn to look, but he’s satisfied when the closest source of gunfire cuts off abruptly.

“This isn’t so bad,” Bucky says when they take a quick right, Zemo straggling slightly behind.

Bullets chase the three of them around the corner, ringing as they strike a fire escape and shatter a sign. Raising an arm over his head to protect himself from falling shards of glass, Sam glances at Bucky incredulously.

“I want a divorce!”

#rating has changed! #my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #sambucky #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes #Helmut Zemo

[the-river-person]

Renaissance

“YOU’RE ACTING VERY ODDLY, SANS.” Noted Papyrus one morning when he bumped into his brother on his way to the stairs. Sans wasn’t really ready for the day, his pajamas rumpled and his eyes sleepy, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. What was strange was the fact that he was carrying a basket full of dirty laundry and was on his way to put them in the wash. If it had been the first and only time, Papyrus might have hugged him with joy and thanked the Angel for miracles. But that had happened over a week ago and Sans had since done this and other chores without prompting several more times. Blinking up at him with an expression that very clearly said that he wasn’t really all awake, Sans tried to grin. “What do you mean? I’m just trying to get some clean clothes, is that so weird?” “YES,” said Papyrus. “ YOU LEFT A SOCK ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR FOR OVER A MONTH, PROBABLY LONGER WITH THE RESETS IF WE’RE BEING HONEST.“ That encouraged a snicker from Sans. “It’s still there actually.” “I’M WELL AWARE. BUT DON’T TRY TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT! YOU’VE BEEN ALARMINGLY ACTIVE FOR YOU AND I INTEND TO FIND OUT WHY.” Sans gave him a thumbs up and a wink and Papyrus glared at him before stalking down the stairs, his head tilted up to give an air of disdain towards his brother, who laughed. Breakfast was an interesting affair. The Egg and Cheese Breakfast Muffins that Papyrus had made were pretty enough to look at, though entirely inedible. He’d found the recipe in a book at the dump and had been attempting to recreate the dish. The only real reason this batch hadn’t gone quite right was because they’d gone rock solid at some point during the baking. Still, he’d also made some bacon, so they’d eaten that. There was much less of a restriction on food nowadays. Normally food was collected and sold through the vendors with a stock being held in reserve in case the fields stopped producing or the garbage stopped flowing. But since the world would reset every few weeks the reserves weren’t kept as big and more foods were allowed through. Some monsters, like Papyrus, were taking advantage of the excess to experiment more with various dishes. Sans had to admit that his brother’s cooking skills were improving by leaps and bounds, and only rarely ended with something they couldn’t actually eat.

Everyone’s lives had been severely rattled by the recent events. Sans hadn’t realized how much would have to change in their new circumstances. With no need to spend time and effort farming or collecting food and resources to maintain their lives, many Monsters had turned to entertainment. At first Mettaton’s tv show boomed with success as the only real official source of digital entertainment the Underground had to offer. But it was only two Resets into their new lives that the first alternatives had begun popping up all over. Amateur musicians began uploading videos of songs to the Undernet, either of their own composition or covers of existing songs like the “Angel’s Prayer” that children were fond of singing. Not all of them were spectacular, but they got the enthusiasm, praise, and encouragement of everyone in the Underground anyway. Not a single video went unseen, and several more were created because some Monsters were inspired by what they’d seen and heard. The Spiders who lived in Hotland put on a televised performance of Web Swinging crossed with Ballet where they performed “Coppélia” to the absolute delight of all their viewers. Even the Queen, seemingly returned from death overnight and the cause of much initial confusion and fright in the populace, made a concerted effort to aid Monsters in reforming their lives in some constructive way despite the lack of work. She founded a school where all those who wished to learn were invited, regardless of their age, and various Monsters were invited to come lecture or teach all kinds of subjects to whoever wanted to learn them. Since no school building could be made that would stay past the Resets, they made do with hundreds of tents upon the crystal starlit fields of the Grand Cavern. Both Papyrus and Sans had signed up for some of these. Toriel’s baking classes were fun and there were often treats to be sampled afterward, including her famous Snail Pie. Though Papyrus would groan in feigned agony as Sans and Toriel shot pun after pun back and forth at one another while working, he didn’t really seem to mind all that much and occasionally would contribute a pun of his own, though Sans could never quite tell if it was intentional or not. Old Seam it seemed had decided to participate in the fun as well. Though he’d been a soldier in the wars and now ran a little shop in New Home, he seemed thrilled to totter his way all the way down to the School in order to teach magic tricks. Young Monsters sat wide eyed with astonishment as the old Cat-Monster made lights appear and vanish, caused rubber balls to pop endlessly from his mouth only to turn into wisps of smoke when he dropped them one by one into a glass of water, or make his wheezy laughing voice come from various objects such as Queen Toriel’s teapot or a desk or someone’s stack of books. Everybody loved the tricks and spent a great deal of time trying to learn how to do them, with limited success. Toriel only stepped in once in order to stop Monster Kid from doing his own version of one of Seam’s best tricks, which involved sawing a volunteer in half and having their lower half walk around a stage before somehow putting them back together. Wherever you looked, Monsters were creating and innovating, finding new ways to create a working life. When the world Reset itself, they’d start new projects, continued practicing hobbies, set up tents or made temporary stages for performances or meetings. Games were played, songs written, and some particularly industrious people still found ways to put themselves to work. Through it all, Sans was beginning to feel more and more like he was being cornered. Monsters talked, and many of them wanted justice for the Resets and the loss of any chance to escape from the Underground. Others weren’t sure it mattered anymore as long as the human continued their duty of Resetting, or thought maybe the human should stay hidden in the Ruins even as they Reset the world every few weeks. Whispers mentioned the Judge. Surely the Judge would know what to do? Surely surely the Judge could tell them what was right?

He hated it. With each passing day the idea of having to tell the truth about his position inched closer and closer to reality. Even as the Queen avoided him outside the structured time of their classes, and Alphys grew obsessed with perfecting the Solution so she could undo her terrible mistake, Sans found himself finding ways to stay busy, to keep moving. If he never paused for too long he wouldn’t have to think too hard about his role. Wouldn’t have to wonder how he was going to live up to their expectations. The Royal Judge wasn’t supposed to be a public duty, it was something secret, private. The Judge was an ordinary monster for a reason, someone who could judge even the King or Queen fairly if it came to it. Now... He wasn’t sure he could judge fairly, not after everything. And while the whole Underground waited for his decision. No, he didn’t want it. But there wasn’t going to be much choice. Wishing, not for the first time, that he could just fly away in a rocket ship to mars and never look back, Sans occupied himself by helping Mettaton with a class about Acting Methods. Specifically he was supposed to come in and try to sell a Hot Dog to Mettaton while the other reacted in various ways depending on the character being portrayed. It was silly, and watching the robot prance around and loudly proclaim his own virtues to his audience was kind of fun. It was like everything was still normal. Even though the world had changed and it felt like nothing could be the same, there were still things that wouldn’t change.

#undertale #undertale au #sans undertale #the great papyrus #toriel dreemurr #the royal judge #mettaton #seam deltarune #Reset #hotland #muffet undertale

[edgythought]

So, I have finished Gossip Girl (2008-2012, CW) once again and I have things to say. I was 14 when I started watching the show when it aired and since I was at school back then it was only fair every girl in my class was obsessed with it. One of my best friends even copied Blair Waldorf for quite some time. Easier times that were. Being 25 now gave more perspective during the re-watch I did after being completely swept off my feet with Penn Badgley's performance in YOU (2019, Netflix). As Joe Goldberg reminded me a lot of Dan Humphrey I decided to share my thoughts on the character development in Gossip Girl through 6 seasons we have.  I do not think I will be watching the reboot though. The OG GG is too close to my heart. Anywho, let's go! (spoilers ahead, so I will humbly continue under the cut)

I may express an unpopular opinion on here, but Dan being GG is actually very logical to me as a viewer. That can come off as infatuation with the characters and the bougie lifestyle shown in the series, but if you think deeply about that it is the only possible answer. You never think of the "good guy" to hurt those he seem to care about so much, but no one ever asked Dan about his true feelings. 

Serena Van der Woodsen Starting the series with her comeback to the Upper East Side we first see Serena as a girl with baggage. Troubled past (if it even is past) and huge desire to be better. She was trying, but the Upper East-Side is irresistible with it's scheming and diamond glow covering all the bullshit in the closets. Serena did her best and her final redemption act was to forgive Dan for everything he caused and how he hurt her in the past because for ONCE IN HER LIFE she was able to relate to his outsider experience. She had plenty of her bitchy moments but I still believe that at her heart she is the little ray of sunshine we saw in season 1. Serena as a character wasn't overcomplicated or really vicious, she just wanted to be seen not as a shallow rich socialite, but for what she really is - a young girl who made mistakes on her way, and to be loved for that. Serena is my baby.

Blair Waldorf Blair was supposed to be the show's real bad bitch and she definitely is. She truly showed her bad and bitchy sides lots of times but the real fault in her is that she is an annoying privileged know-it-all white girl who thinks she has the world at the palm of her hand. We all know how that went down. Blair isn't evil either. She is an attention whore even more than Serena, but she mostly imposed it on herself thinking her father neglected her when he never did (while Serena's father did neglect both his children and manipulated his way back into theirs and his ex-wife's lives). Blair is strong and loyal and those are her fortes. Her and Chuck are that magnetic painful love not all of us experience, but those who did - understand it takes hell of a character to abandon the toxic and face your own demons for the sake of the loved one. Blair is amazing and we should take up her courage and blatant honesty.

Chuck Bass On a related note, Blair's one true soulmate, Chuck, was the most complicated character on the show. It looked pretty obvious in the beginning but the development of his kept me watching till the end. I mean, daddy issues, substance abuse, deviant (and predatory at times) sexual behaviour are some of the first impressions of Chuck. Still, Chuck (as all of the Upper East Side kids really) is the product of parental neglect and lack of proper care and upbringing. It makes my heart so happy to see he did the work and realised he doesn't have to be like his father (heartless piece of shit, if you ask me) but become his own self and thrive. His connection to Blair was painful and heartbreaking but in the end it was worth it. They are invincible together and their love is the realest.

Nate Archibald The Golden Boy or should I say the Golden retriever? I mean, he is a bit smarter version of Mr. Peanutbutter from BoJack Horseman. Still, Nate has something in him to attract people. Maybe it's his natural himbo charm or just plain desire to be good. I believe Nate also did his best throughout the show to sustain his adorkable self on the required level of being a main character. His obvious motivation was to achieve something himself, with his own effort and it done him good to accept the help in need and make amends. His love choices are questionable, but being easy-going, really kind and naive actually made Nate my favourite on the show. He just wanted everything to be good, who can blame him?

Dan Humphrey Last but not least, huh? The main reason for the years of public humiliation and complicated social interactions for all of the people in GG world. The outcast, the underdog, the Lonely Boy. Who could have thought... Dan first comes off as the integrity itself, righteous and mostly flawless good boy. He fell in love with Serena and that was the starting point of all the shitshow we have witnessed in 6 seasons. Still, Dan is the most human. That's why he knows how to manipulate. Yes, he is obsessive and controlling, he pulled off a lot of shit. Still, he is just at the same level of troubled as Serena is, but in a different way. Mommy issues, divorced parents, lack of socialising with peers and pressure of being an outsider in a very high-end school - no wonder he did what he did. It is not an excuse. He is guilty for causing so much damage. But he still is human. And I admire the strength to reveal himself in order to be with the love of his life, Serena. His damaged teenage mind found a way into her world, but his real self totally won her heart. Was all that drama worth it? Perhaps not, but we wouldn't have something exciting without it. Dan is the OG realest sickest bitch on the Upper East Side. And I love that for him.

Honorable mentions: Jenny Humphrey - totally ruined by the writers. Taylor Momsen is fire though. Rufus Humphrey - best dad ever, but he could've toned down that righteousness. Lily Van der Woodsen - got what she deserved. She's okay. Eric Can der Woodsen - a baby, we love him, he is the best. (and we forgive scheming against Jenny, she wasn't the best, but she tried) Vanessa Abrams - she was a lot and selling Dan's first book was evil. We forgive her, she was also ruined by the writers from the very beginning. Georgina Sparks - so chaotic evil / neutral it was fascinating to watch her do her stuff. Her ending up with Jack Bass is the best we could have had. Would love to see what they do in the shadows.

Most of the supporting characters were amazing and totally logical except for Juliette and Ivy Dickens. Both deserved better treatment from the writers and could have been next Georginas. The real Charlotte Rhodes was wishy-washy. This show taught me forgiveness is very valuable and we are under surveillance 24/7. To quote one of my favourite TikTok sounds - everybody makes mistakes. credit to the gif owners, you did amazing.

#gossip girl #serena van der woodsen #blair waldorf #chuck bass #nate archibald #dan humphrey #jenny humphrey #rufus humphrey #lily van der woodsen #eric van der woodsen #YOU NETFLIX #penn badgley #blake lively #chace crawford #taylor momsen #leighton meester #ed westwick #vanessa abrams

[blackcloverdatabase]

English Translation of Novel 3: Chapter 4 – The Hero Who Disappeared (Part 1 of 2)

I’m saving the illustration that came with this chapter for the second half since it illustrates a scene near the end, but what you see above is a picture of a Yuno card that was tucked into the pages of this chapter. The other novels didn’t come with a card, so I was surprised when I saw it.

This chapter features Yuno and William going on patrol at a festival William organizes a few days before the raid on the Eye of the Midnight Sun’s hideout. While on patrol, they run into Mereoleona, Asta, Noelle, Klaus, and Mimosa, and later they run into Yami and Charlotte. Chaos ensues.

--- The Hero Who Disappeared: Part 1 ---

“Welcome! For a limited time only, all magic tools are 50% off!”

“Hey, young lady! Would you like to drop by our store? I’ll make it nice and cheap for you~”

Under a clear, sunny sky, cheerful voices called out from the many stalls that were lined up as the townspeople walked among them with smiling faces. It was the square of the royal capital, the same place which served as the center of the Star Festival. Though not as large as the Star Festival, the square was filled with stalls and makeshift stages, offering the same amenities one would expect from a small festival. However, it wasn’t merchants who were manning these stalls.

“This is a magic tool endorsed by the captain of the Aqua Deer himself!! It’s a great security device!”

“This is a meat dish made by the captain of the Green Mantis! It’s delicious and nutritious!”

These stalls were manned by Magic Knights.

“This is quite the crowd~ There’s a lot of guests, but there’s a lot of Magic Knights, too.”

“Well, the Royal Knights Selection Exam is over, and……”

Bell and Yuno conversed as they walked among the crowd. They came here today because they were ordered to patrol the event. The Magic Knights were given various tasks to run the festival, ranging from selling things at the stalls, performing short skits and games on stage, as well as handling background tasks such as patrolling and clerical work. This may seem like a strange spectacle, but there was a reason why this was happening.

“Most importantly, this was a direct announcement from Captain Vangeance. Of course a lot of people are going to gather.”

That’s right. Vangeance proposed this event to assuage the unease the citizens had thanks to repeated attacks from the Eye of the Midnight Sun and the circulation of the “Original Sin”. Yuno heard that he simply “requested cooperation” from those who belonged to the other squads, but with his personal magnetism, this many people gathered in a heartbeat.

Bell sucked on a strawberry candy Yuno bought for her and happily quipped,

“Hm~ Well, I don’t really get it, but thanks to this, I get to go on a festival date with you!”

“This event isn’t for you to have fun. It’s for the citizens.”

“……No, one of the reasons I established this festival was to give the Magic Knights a break and allow them a chance to interact with the people. It would make me very happy if you and Bell enjoyed the festival, too.”

Startled by the sudden voice from behind, Yuno and Bell looked behind them to see William Vangeance standing with an air of composure. Vangeance was the captain of the Golden Dawn, and he was the man said to be the closest to becoming the Wizard King. That the hero of the Clover Kingdom was greeting him so casually in a place like this was surprising by itself, but……

“Hey, hey, Captain Vangeance! Let me borrow your mask~!”

“I asked first! I’m gonna pluck those feathers and put them on my bear!”

“………”

Yuno and Bell were also surprised to see two children, approximately 7 to 8 years old, clinging to that hero’s feet.

“……Captain Vangeance, those kids are……?”

“Yup, just as you see. It seems that they were interested in my mask, so they approached me, and…...”

From behind his mask, he answered Yuno’s question with his usual elegant smile……. No, rather than his usual smile, he answered with a considerably strained smile.

“……Anyway, can you please help me?”

“Jeez~ Why do we have to save our captain from getting bullied by a bunch of kids the very second we get here~”

“Stop that, Bell.”

“……Ha ha, sorry about that. I like kids, but I’m not very good at handling them.”

After Yuno and Bell managed to pull those children off of their captain, they continued their patrol together with Vangeance.  As if to regain his composure, Vangeance cleared his throat before speaking.

“Also, thank you for indulging my selfish request.”

“Selfish?”

When Yuno asked him this in return, Vangeance had a complicated expression on his face as he nodded.

“Though the Selection Exam may be over, the day you will be launching a surprise attack on the Eye of the Midnight Sun’s base is imminent. I’m thanking you because you came to my event during such an important time.”

“……I don’t think you’re being selfish at all.”

As he spoke, Yuno looked at all the people around him.

“I’m sure those children felt the same way. The townspeople all look like they’re having fun interacting with the Magic Knights like this. There has just been one horrible incident after another, so isn’t it fine to do something fun like this every once and a while?”

From the citizens’ point of view, this was a rare chance to interact so closely with the Magic Knights, the heroes that all citizens strive to become. That by itself makes this event enjoyable for them. Even the anxieties caused by the Eye of the Midnight Sun and Original Sin will be lessened to some degree.

“……I see. I’m happy to hear that from you.”

Vangeance replied, looking a little bit happy when he smiled. Yuno nodded before continuing,

“Also, just as you were saying earlier, the Magic Knights also look like they’re having fun.”

The faces of the Knights manning the stalls looked even more lively than usual. Being a Magic Knight is usually a tough job, so this was probably incredibly relaxing for them. Today looks to be a fun day for Magic Knights and citizens alike. That’s what Yuno thought, but……

“Yeah. It would be nice if today ended as nothing more than a fun day…...”

Vangeance said with a mysterious look on his face before lowering his voice so that only Yuno and Bell could hear him.

“There’s something I must tell you…… it has been reported that a person in possession of the Original Sin may have infiltrated today’s event.”

“!!”

They stiffened upon having such a serious matter suddenly disclosed to them.

“…Wait, w-what! We should evacuate everyone immed-!”

Bell raised her voice in a panic, but Yuno covered her mouth before Vangeance continued,

“I would very much like to do that, but if we do that so suddenly, everyone will panic, which may fuel the Original Sin. Also, this is only a possibility. We should gather more intel before making any large-scale moves.”

‘Even so, it’s dangerous to leave such a thing alone,’ Yuno thought, but he couldn’t come up with an alternative. To begin with, that information was too vague, so there was no way to know what move they should make. If there’s one thing they should do, it’s……

“In other words, we have no choice but to continue patrolling while searching for the Original Sin…… right?”

“That’s correct. I should also add that very few Magic Knights know about this. If too many people knew, our movements might begin to look unnatural, which could expose us to the owner of the Original Sin…… You two have more experiencing fighting the Original Sin than anyone else, so I decided I should tell you.”

Yuno still wasn’t satisfied, but he knew that there was no helping that.

“I understand. Is there anything else we know about the enemy?”

“Yes. You really do catch on quickly. I’ll tell you the details as we walk.”

After saying this, Vangeance’s voice once again sounded apologetic.

“I know I keep saying this, but I’m truly sorry about getting you involved in all this. I wanted you to be able to enjoy today’s event, too, so for this to happen is…...”

“There’s no helping that. It’s not like it’s your fault……”

If anything, he might be the most hurt by this. Any time he wasn’t busy with his duties as Captain was spent preparing for today’s event, only for all that to be spoiled by the Original Sin. Yuno meant for his words to be sympathetic, but, for some reason, Vangeance paused for an unnatural amount of time before finally responding,

“……Yeah, you’re right.”

He almost sounded as if he was at a loss for words when he said this, making Yuno feel uneasy. Then, suddenly,

“S-someone, anyone!! Please save me!!”

Boosted by amplification magic, a woman’s screams resounded throughout the venue.

It sounded like the scream came from the direction of the stage where the results of the Star Festival were announced. The scream’s timing was so uncanny that Yuno and the others raced to the stage as they prepared for battle. And, when they reached the front row of the stage……

“I’m a village girl named Mimosa!! I’m being chased by evil mages!!”

What they saw was Mimosa running around on stage, reading her lines with an unbelievably monotone voice. Then, several other Magic Knights went on stage, some acting as evil mages chasing Mimosa and others moving the background scenery around. It seemed that they stumbled upon a children’s play. After sighing with a bitter smile, Vangeance joked,  

“Ha ha, their timing was amazing…... Wait, it could be that these “evil mages” are being manipulated by the owner of the Original Sin.”

“If that were the case, it sure would make things easier for us.”

Yuno replied to his joke lightheartedly, but he, too, was smiling bitterly internally. The play’s timing was certainly bad, but it released the tension that was between them earlier, so he was honestly glad that it happened. Also, watching swarms of young children tottle around the stage as the play began brought a smile to his face. To protect those children’s smiles, they should arrest the Original Sin as soon as possible. Holding these feelings close to his heart, Yuno turned away from the stage to leave. At that moment, Mimosa pointed to the wing of the stage and said,

“Ah, it looks like someone came to save me! It must be the Magic Knight of Justice!”

The children started cheering with excitement at the words “Magic Knight of Justice”. Amidst those cheers, the person who entered on stage as that “Magic Knight of Justice” was……

“……Wait, look, Asta! That’s your cue! Get over there right now!”

“………Huh? My cue? What should I do?”

“………”

The Magic Knight of Justice was Asta, who made his long-awaited debut on stage…… or rather, he was dragged onto stage by Noelle with an even dumber look on his face than usual, so dumb that it was practically audible. It was like watching an old man, causing Bell to, without thinking, talk to Noelle from beneath the stage.

“Hey, Noelle…… what…… that is, why is he acting like an old man?”

“U-uh……I don’t really know, either……”

Noelle said with a sigh, sorrow hanging around her like a wife exhausted from taking care of her aging husband.

“The shock of being unable to fight Yuno in the finals of the Selection Exam turned him into this, and……”

“And so… he turned into that……?”

That explanation didn’t make sense to Bell and Yuno, and it didn’t make sense to Noelle, the person doing the explaining, either. It was a mystery to everyone. When Asta noticed Yuno, he spoke to him as if he were going senile.

“Aah, Yuno…… perfect timing. Can you replace me as the Magic Knight of Justice? Since you got first place at the Selection Exam, you’d be a better fit for the role…… Ah, sorry, should I use ‘Mr.’ when I speak to you?”

“Stop that. That kind of subservience doesn’t suit you. Hurry up and snap out of it.”

“After you defeat the villain, you have to shout your usual catchphrase. So, after you beat the enemy, you should yell “I’m Yuno, you know!?”.”

“Even your memory is all messed up. I’ve never said such a lame catchphrase in my life.”

While Yuno and Asta where bickering, the audience started getting antsy. It was only natural. They were told that the Magic Knight of Justice was coming, and they got some guy acting like an old man. Wanting to fix the now awkward atmosphere, Mimosa said in a panic,

“E-everyone! You’ll see this in the next act, but since Asta has gotten himself into a pinch, a new Magic Knight of Justice will rush to the scene! The person playing this role is a very famous captain of the Magic Knights! Also, we’ve made arrangements for all you little ones to be able to get on stage and fight the evil mages alongside them, so please don’t leave yet!”

“You’re being too desperate! Also, stop saying things like “role” and “arrangements”!”

Bell criticized Mimosa, but, despite her criticism, the kids were showing excitement once again.

“Cooool! We get to meet a Captain!”

“Hey, papa! Take me closer to the front! I wanna fight, too!”

Tiny voices piped up here and there as more and more children gathered at the bottom of the stage. It seemed that the title “Captain” wasn’t just for show after all. Not letting this chance pass them by, Klaus instructed Mimosa from behind the stage to have the children call for the captain.  Mimosa nodded, then turned toward the audience and exclaimed,

“Now, everyone! Let’s call for the captain with our loudest voices!! Ready, set…”

Mimosa counted down, then all the children in the assembly hall shouted together. The one who was summoned by those sweet voices was……

“WAH-HAH-HAAH! DO NOT WORRY, LITTLE VILLAGE GIRL! I, MEREOLEONA-SAMA, THE MAGIC KNIGHT OF JUSTICE, WILL DEVOUR ALL THOSE EVIL MAGES FOR YOU WITHOUT LEAVING A SINGLE TRACE!!”

“………”

A lioness. She walked on stage with a swagger and spoke in an intimidating tone as she laughed aloud. She was far from what a “Magic Knight of Justice” should look like. The children’s smiles froze, and they began to shiver with fear. Not seeming to notice this, she surveyed the audience with stone cold eyes and then, with a ferocious smirk, said,

“Ho hoh….. We have a lot of good kids here! Which of you friends are ready to fight beside me!? Is it you!? Is it YOU!?”

“Please wait for a moment, Mereoleona. I think you might be misunderstanding something here……”

Vangeance couldn’t help but interject fairly loudly from the bottom of the stage. He was aware that interjecting like this was incredibly out of character for him, but, at this rate, the reputation of the Magic Knights will be significantly damaged. Mereoleona had no way of knowing his thoughts, so she flared up into a fiery rage at him.

“You bastard…… are you insane, Vangeance!?  Talking to a performer who’s in the middle of their act on stage like that! Have you no manners!?”

“Well, from those children’s point of view, something much worse was happening right in front of them. Could you make your performance a little more kid friendly?”

“You fool! Are you saying I should hold back just because they’re kids!? A Magic Knight should always use all their power, no matter what!”

“Yes, I know. I know, so use all your power to imagine this for just one moment. Imagine that you’ve been told the “Magic Knight of Justice” is coming, but instead you get a “maniac with stone cold eyes”. Now, how would you feel about that?”

While the two were engaged in their progress-less exchange, Klaus approached them from the back of the stage and, with his fingers at his temple, informed them,

“……I’m sorry, you two. The play has been canceled. Let’s start working on cleaning everything up.”

“Cancelled…… hey, wait a second! What about all the kids who were looking forward to the play!”

While Bell was protesting, Klaus pointed his finger behind everyone and said,

“……And, where are those children you speak of?”

“Ah……”

Before they knew it, the audience had disappeared from their seats. They must have seen their chance to escape when Vangeance spoke up to Mereoleona. The parents in the audience took their kids and fled, almost as if they were escaping the clutches of a lioness. When Mereoleona noticed that her audience had disappeared, she punched the ground in vexation.

“Tch…… I’m sorry, everyone!! Though Vangeance was wrong for spouting off idiotic nonsense, the fact remains that I’m the one that allowed him to dampen the audience’s enthusiasm and cause them to leave! This is all my fault!”

“Um, Mereoleona, this is hard for me to say, but you’re absolutely right about it being your fault. Except, I’m not in the wrong. I’m not even saying this out of some sense of self-protection. I’m simply not in the wrong here.”

Mereoleona stood up with renewed determination, completely ignoring Vangeance’s protests.

“However, another audience will gather soon, so don’t worry! I’ll make up for my blunder with my own two hands!”

She proclaimed loudly. Then, she declared so stupidly loud that Yuno wouldn’t be surprised if the entire venue could hear her,

“Listen up, people! From now on, I will teach you all how to defend yourselves by burning your opponents! I’m about to demonstrate by using the other Magic Knights here as my opponents during the show, so you all should gather around the stage!!”

And so, everyone there had to use all their might to stop her.

  “……That was quite dangerous.”

“……Yes. Well, let’s just be glad the Original Sin never got involved in the fight.”

“……I’m still not glad about it.”

Said Vangeance, Yuno, then Bell as they continued their patrol. Their first interaction with her was tiring enough, but stopping Mereoleona’s rampage used up all their physical strength. After telling her the Original Sin might be at the venue, they somehow managed to calm her down, but that was only after everyone exhausted several days’ worth of energy stopping her. Yuno wanted nothing more than to go home, lie down, and rest, but he couldn’t say that out loud, so he forcibly distracted himself by asking Vangeance,

“So, do you know anything else about the Original Sin?”

“……Ah, sorry. That’s right. We were just talking about that.”

Their discussion, which had been nearly forgotten because of the impact the lioness left on them, resumed.

“First of all, we know the Original Sin is here because several Knights who have had run-ins with the Original Sin before have sensed its mana at this venue. However, its presence is so weak that we can’t pinpoint its location unless we can get several magic detection specialists in a concentrated area.”

“I see…… but, if that’s the case, can’t we narrow down its location by following the source of its mana?”

“Of course, we have tried that, but it seems that its mana is incredibly unstable, so it repeatedly appears and disappears. That’s why it’s difficult to pinpoint with mana perception alone. If we could narrow down the number of suspects to only a few people, then……”

“Is that so……?”

Yuno contemplated Vangeance’s words. The other times he has faced the Original Sin, being able to sense mana was a powerful advantage, but it’s a useless skill if that mana cannot be followed. As before, the only way to guarantee victory will be to make direct contact with the owner of the Original Sin and destroy it.

‘With so many people here, will that even be possible……?’ Yuno thought with a troubled face. While he was thinking, Vangeance pointed to a corner of the assembly hall and said,

“Speak of the devil…… He’s one of those who sensed the presence of the Original Sin.”

Where he pointed, several tables were lined up and spaced at equal intervals. There was a number of children using them to draw pictures. It appeared that one of the events at the festival was a drawing class. There was a man reclining in the corner who seemed to be in charge.

It was the Captain of the Black Bulls, Yami Sukehiro. When he noticed Vangeance, he raised his head from the art book he was reading and looked up toward them.

“……Oh, it’s golden weird mask guy. Hey, golden weird mask guy. Actually, golden weird mask guy is a pain in the ass to say. Can I stop?”

‘You’re the one who came up with that nickname, you know,’ Vangeance thought to himself with a bitter smile. He said as he watched the children,

“I was surprised when I heard you were doing an event geared toward children, but it looks like it’s going well.”

“Yeah. I was thinkin’ all I’d have to do is put out some paint and paper, and then I wouldn’t have to do anythin’ else, but a lot more kids gathered than I thought there’d be. I guess a cute guy like me summons more cuteness.”

Just as Yami said (?), there were many kids gathered around his corner, drawing and having fun as they talked with Magna Swing and Luck Voltia. There really was nothing but art supplies and paper on the table, and they could use it all free of charge. Perhaps it was that simplicity and ease of access that made his corner so popular. Its popularity probably had nothing to do with Yami’s “cuteness”. As Yuno was thinking such trivial thoughts, a boy and girl who were drawing toddled toward them.

“Ah! It’s Captain Vangeance!”

“Aah. Those two are the same kids as earlier…”

Bell nodded lightly.

‘Those two are the same kids who were bullying…… no, admiring Vangeance earlier. If I recall, their names were….’

“Hey, Al, Silka. Were you two drawing, too?”

Before Yuno could remember their names, Vangeance kneeled down and greeted them with a smile.

That’s right. The boy’s name was Al, and the girl’s name was Silka. The two were brother and sister. They lived in a village situated at the edge of the Common Realm, but today they asked their parents to come to this event so that they could meet the Magic Knights.

Al nodded happily and held his drawing out to Vangeance.

“Yeah! I drew us playing at my village! I drew it really good, so I’m giving it to you!”

“Are you sure? You two worked really hard to draw this, right?”

“Yeah! This is payment for letting us play with you earlier!”

Vangeance thanked Al and accepted his drawing, his expression more joyful than usual.

‘He really wasn’t lying when he said he liked kids,’ Yuno thought.

……However, Yuno also felt a touch of unease as he watched him. For some reason, there was a tinge of sadness in his smile. As Yuno began to feel such doubts, Silka came to his feet and offered him her drawing.

“Then, I’ll give mine to Yuno-niichan!”

“……Ah, thank you. I’ll treasure it.”

Just as Al said, the drawing depicted the two of them playing.  They included small details in their drawings, like their chestnut-colored hair, Al’s book pouch, Silka’s hair ornament, and more. Yuno accepted the drawing with a smile, making Silka’s face to turn red as she returned to Al’s side. They took each other’s hands and ran away cheerfully.

“See ya, Captain Vangeance! Have a good day at work!”

“Thanks! You two be careful not to trip and fall!”

Vangeance waved goodbye at them, already returning to his usual gentle self.

‘Was it just my imagination?’ Yuno wondered. As Yuno was lightly questioning himself, Yami started talking to Vangeance with his usual lax attitude.

“Hey, are you kiddin’ me, Vangeance? You never told me you had a love child, let alone two. They aren’t wearin’ weird golden masks, are they? You should make weird golden masks for them, too.”

“So, Yami? Have you been able to sense the Original Sin since then?”

Vangeance ignored Yami’s joke, carefully putting the drawing away in his book pouch as he asked his question. Yami shrugged his shoulders in response.

“Same as usual. I can sense it every now and then, but just as I catch a hint of it, it disappears. Well, rather than mana, I’m readin’ ki, but I think you’d get the same results either way. Luck was sayin’ the exact same thing, earlier.”

“So, all we know is that it’s still here. Understood. Even so, for the time being, continue to try sensing for it at regular intervals. Yuno and I will do the same.”

“Sure…… wait, huh?

His reply was flat, but then he leaned his head toward Vangeance, studying his face.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, just now, I was sensin’ the ki in this area real lightly, and…”

He continued. With cigarette in hand, he pointed his finger at Vangeance.

“I feel a lingering sensation of the Original Sin’s ki from you. You happen to know why?”

“……Huh?”

As Yami spoke, Yuno half-reflexively focused his mana perception. Though it was very slight, he could certainly feel the mana of the Original Sin from Vangeance. It was so weak, that Yuno would never have noticed if it weren’t for Yami pointing it out…… it was like a lingering scent. If he possessed the Original Sin Grimoire, then the mana he felt from him would have been much stronger, so he couldn’t be the owner of that grimoire……. No, still, if he was using some technique to suppress his own mana, then it’s possible that…..

“Ah, before the Selection Exam, Julius secured an Original Sin grimoire intact. This morning, I touched it as I was examining it. It might be mana from that.”

Vangeance explained without even breaking a sweat, interrupting Yuno’s thoughts.

‘Am I stupid? Of course he doesn’t have it.’

Yuno calmed back down. That’s right. There’s no way he could be the owner of the Original Sin Grimoire. Even if it was only for a moment, Yuno felt ashamed for letting his mind run away with such strange ideas. Yami nodded his head and said,

“I see. Sometimes, when you touch something, its mana and ki can stick to you…. Ah, I just realized. That’s gonna make it even more of a pain in the ass to find this thing. Why’d you have to come here, you bastard!? I’m gonna smash your mask into pieces and use them to decorate the walls of a hipster cafe!”

“The way you express anger is sometimes rather mystifying, but I’d prefer it if you stop…... Anyway, please continue surveying the area.”

Vangeance said with a wry smile before turning back toward Yuno and Bell. Upon doing so, he was surprised to see a certain someone approaching him and Yami.

“Va…… Vangeance…… you, why are you here……!?”

It was the Captain of the Blue Roses, Charlotte Roselei. For some reason, when she made eye contact with Vangeance, she froze in place with a startle. Upon closer examination, she was holding a basket full of cookies.

‘What’s going on here……?’ he thought. Despite his uncertainty, Vangeance decided to try greeting her, but then Charlotte’s face turned bright red as she stuttered with an extraordinarily high-pitched voice,

“I-I, uh, funny story! My squad held a cooking class, and we ended up making too many cookies! I thought it would be a waste to throw them all away, s-so I thought that I could give them to Yami! It’s not like I have an ulterior motive or anything! I’m just trying to get rid of them!”

“I didn’t ask you anything, though……”

‘This situation feels very familiar…...’ secretly, Bell was experiencing Deja-vu. Yami folded his arms and looked at Charlotte.

“The cookies are for me? From you? Why have you been actin’ so girly lately?”

“What!? You…...!”

Charlotte was about to reach for the handle of her sword, but she reconsidered, stopping her hand and shaking her head. She walked up to Yami and said,

“Just take it already. I’m busy. I’d rather not waste my time on things like this.”

And, with a straight face, presented the basket of cookies to him. Unlike before, there was no agitation in her voice or mannerisms. She was her usual dignified self. Although, that was only true on the outside.

‘…...Y-yes! I gave it to him! I wasn’t sure what to do when I saw Vangeance here, but I managed to give it him! Ha ha, I’m amazing!’

Internally, she was frolicking about like a schoolgirl. However, she we careful not to show that on her face. Charlotte had been reflecting on her recent actions. She has always allowed herself to get agitated in front of Yami, so she decided to work hard at not letting those feelings show. However, perhaps it was because she has had many opportunities to make contact with him as of late, but she hasn’t been able to hide her unrest, and her behavior has become strange. The times she has nearly attacked him in attempt to hide this have only increased.

‘This isn’t good,’ Charlotte thought. She admonished herself once more and vowed that she would maintain her self-control in front of Yami.

‘No matter what might happen, I won’t allow myself to get upset in front of him ever again!’ She told herself this over and over again, but then,

“Oh, thanks.”

Yami said this as he shoveled several cookies into his mouth.

“Huh? They’re good, like normal cookies. What the hell? Did you seriously make these?”

“……Yes.”

Charlotte responded with a straight face, but,

‘I-I’m so happy! To think hearing the man I love praise my cooking would make me so happy!’

Internally, she was soaring. She was trying desperately not to let that show, however,

“I seriously thought your cookin’ was gonna suck, but I guess you’re a proper lady after all. Hey, Vangeance, Yuno, you guys should try some, too. They’re surprisingly good. Surprisingly.”

“……Hmph. You’re as rude as usual. I cannot tell if you’re trying to praise me or insult me.”

Once again, Charlotte responded with a straight face, but,

‘He thinks it’s so good that he’s telling other people to try them!? He thinks they’re that delicious!? I’m a little annoyed that any men other than Yami are eating them, but still, I’m so happy!’

Internally, she was flying even higher than before, and thus she was trying even more desperately not to let her feelings be known. However, then Yami said,

“I’ve gotta say……. I could eat these cookies every day. Seriously.”

“………”

‘Ah……. I’m done for.’

Her excitement seemed to overflow from her whole body until, finally, she fell backwards.

BAM!

The back of her head hit the stone pavement, knocking her unconscious.

“Eeeeeeeeh!? Wait, what just happened!? Are you okay!? Hey!?”

Yami picked up her body, holding her in her arms while unusually upset. However…… there, an even more terrible incident unfolded.

“B-Big Sis! Are you okay!? What happened!?”

Several members of the Blue Rose, with Sol at the forefront, rushed toward Charlotte. They surrounded her and glared sharply at Yami. Sol took one step forward toward Yami, her body swaying as if she were half-conscious. Representing the entire group, Sol quietly informed him,

“When Big Sis suddenly disappeared, we began a search for her……. What is the meaning of this, Captain of the Black Bulls……? Why has Big Sis collapsed before you?”

“That’s what I’d like to know! She just suddenly collapsed all on her own, and-

“HUUUUUH!? So, you did do something to her, didn’t you!?”

“As I’ve said, you’ve got it all wrong! It was all on her own, and…. Wait, don’t attack me!”

After that, a brawl broke out between the Black Bulls and the Blue Roses. However, Charlotte woke up soon after and cleared Yami’s name. Still, thanks to the uproar they caused, not a single person remained in Yami’s drawing class.

“………That was quite dangerous.”

“………Yes.”

“………I’m sick of this.”

Said Vangeance, Yuno, then Bell as they continued their patrol. They had a hard time stopping those girls’ rampage.  Though it only took a few dozen seconds before Charlotte woke up and said, “……Sorry. I was just feeling a little lightheaded. It’s nothing important,” their brawl was fierce and merciless, so it was exceedingly difficult to stop them without destroying the town themselves. Moreover, their brawl, coupled with the uproar that Mereoleona caused, was starting to make the citizens who came here afraid of the Magic Knights. One of the goals of this event was to dispel any doubts the citizens had about the Magic Knights, but their doubts were only increasing. On top of that, they haven’t found a single clue toward dealing with the main problem at hand, the Original Sin Grimoire. With such negative thoughts floating in his head, exhausted by the day’s events, Yuno muttered to himself,

“Is the Order of the Magic Knights…... really okay…...?”

“Ha ha. Certainly, a lot of events have happened in rapid succession that would make one a little uneasy. No, maybe “very uneasy” would be more accurate?”

“Ah, no, sorry. That was a little careless of me to say. I mean…...”

Realizing that Vangeance overheard him, he hurriedly tried to explain himself. Since he somehow managed to work his way to be the person in the Golden Dawn who collected the most stars last term, he thought that he shouldn’t complain in front of the captain. With a gentle smile, Vangeance waved his hand as if to expel Yuno’s worries.

“I don’t mind…… No, well…… this is a good opportunity, so I guess I’ll go ahead and ask you.”

Vangeance, too, spoke so softly that one would think he was talking to himself.  

“Let me ask you, Yuno. What do you think about the Magic Knights and this country?”

“Huh……?”

Yuno and Bell reflexively looked at each other. His superior was asking him what he thought about his workplace and the thing he is supposed to protect. That’s not all that strange by itself, but it seemed a little abrupt. Realizing what Yuno was thinking, Vangeance shrugged his shoulders and said,

“It wasn’t meant to be a deep question. It’s just that many members of the Magic Knights, myself included, have high hopes for you. I was simply curious about your thoughts.”

Yuno lowered his head as he thought. It’s an abstract question, but if all he’s curious about is what he thinks, then……

“I think there are many problems in both of them that must be solved, but, even so, I love the Magic Knights and this country. Everyone in the Magic Knights is…… well, at first, they were extremely critical of me, but, lately, they all seem to recognize me as a friend. It feels very comfortable. Ever since the Star Festival, it feels as if the citizens have accepted me, too.”

Yuno remembered the smiles and cheers of the people at the Star Festival, filling Yuno with warmth as he spoke.

“I want to fight to protect the people who accepted me. That’s what I think.”

At first, Yuno only thought about fulfilling his dreams. However, these feelings gradually grew as he continued to fulfill his duties. Every time a person thanked him, every time a person smiled, he felt that he wanted to protect them. Those were his truest feelings from the bottom of his heart, but was that answer good enough……? Yuno thoughts were such as he watched Vangeance, who replied with a satisfied expression,

“I feel the same way. I love the Magic Knights, and I love this country, too. In the Magic Knights, I have comrades and subordinates I can rely on, and I have a superior I want to be like…… Julius-sama. Moreover, this is the country where my comrades and I were born and raised. These feelings are not so grandiose that I would call them patriotism, but I feel a dept of gratitude. In order to repay that dept, I want to protect this country and its people forever…… I truly do.”

For some reason, his expression became sorrowful for the second time that day.

‘……As I thought, Vangeance is definitely acting strange today.’

He was clad in his usual elegantly dignified aura, but there were moments when Yuno could feel a terrible fragility in him, as if he could simply fade away. However, these moments passed by so quickly that it was hard for Yuno to bring up. In the end, all he could do was worry.  

“Anyway, just as you said, Yuno, I believe there are many problems in both that must be solved.”

While Yuno was thinking, Vangeance returned to normal and replied with his usual tone. Yuno understood that thinking about it wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so he stopped mulling over it and listened to Vangeance speak.

“Discrimination against commoners and peasants, the secret maneuvers of those who act only for their own self-interest…… there’s many things we must do to make the country and the Magic Knights better, to make them something you can love even more.”

“……I agree.”

Yuno unintentionally responded with a severe tone of voice. This was because he and Asta have had many painful experiences because of the discrimination that peasants face. Understanding the reason behind Yuno’s heavy reply, he put his hand on Yuno’s shoulder as he continued,

“I’m looking forward to what you will do to solve these problems. If you demonstrate that even a peasant can shine if you hone your strength, you will not only eliminate the discrimination peasants face, you will also become the hope of the populace. I apologize for using you like an advertisement, but I intend to keep you busy.”

“Leave it to us~! After all, not only does Yuno have a four-leaf grimoire, he’s also a genius who’s loved by me! We’ll crush the walls of social status into tiny little pieces as many times as it takes!”

Interjected a certain wind spirit who didn’t read the mood of the conversation.

“Bell, house.”

Yuno tried to make her be quiet, but her outburst made Vangeance chuckle.

“I’m sure you will.”

He agreed with her as he laughed.

“Despite that, no, maybe because of that…... I’m a little worried.”

Once again, though only slightly, something seemed to cloud his usual gentle expression.

“……Right. This may be a little off-topic, but your goal is to become the Wizard King, right, Yuno?”

“Yes.”

Yuno answered immediately. He had decided that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, so he would always answer without hesitation, no matter who asked him. Vangeance nodded his head before continuing,

“What are you willing to lay on the line for your goal?”

“Anything.”

“Including your own life?”

“As long as I get to be the Wizard King for a bit before I die.”

“I see. Then, what about the life of another?”

“Huh……?”

“Let’s say you could save people’s lives in exchange for your own. What would you do?”

Yuno found himself unable to respond to such an unexpected question. With a wry smile, yet somehow incredibly sincerely, he informed Yuno,

“……I’m sorry for asking such a cruel question. However, because of your strength, there will be many situations in the future where you will need to make all kinds of choices, especially if you are aiming to become the Wizard King. In some of those cases, deciding on what is the right choice will be difficult…… In fact, there will surely come a time where, like my earlier question, you’ll have to make a choice when there is no right answer.”

It was as if Vangeance was speaking from experience, no, as if he were in such a situation at this very moment.

‘In his position, he has probably had to make dozens of decisions where there wasn’t a right choice,’ Yuno thought. And, just as he says, the time when Yuno will have to make such a choice will surely come as well.

‘When the time comes, what will I choose…….?’

“You don’t have to think so hard about it. It’s just that, since its possible you might end up in a situation like that someday, I wanted to know what you thought…… Whenever that happens, I hope you will always be able make a decision you can stick behind.”

Vangeance briefly paused before continuing. In that moment, Yuno turned his head to the side in doubt, still unsure of what his decision would be.

“If you don’t know what the right choice is…… in times like those, make a decision that you can be satisfied with. If you do that, you’ll be able to take responsibility for the consequences of your decision, even if those consequences are bad. Maybe this is already obvious to you, but for people as powerful as you, every decision you make has a big influence on your surroundings…… it will make me happy if you keep that in mind.”

“……Yes.”

Yuno answered with uncertainty. With that, Vangeance stretched lightly before saying,

“……Now then, that was quite a long talk, so I’m thirsty. Let’s buy something to drink.”

“Okay, then I’ll-

“No, I’ve already forced you to listen to me talk, so I’ll go buy them.”

Vangeance interrupted gently before quickly making his way to the juice stand. Yuno reluctantly sat down on a nearby bench and, for the second time that day, sighed briefly.

“……Hey, Yuno! Don’t worry about it! That question was just way too mean!”

“Well, you’re right, but…...”

As Bell continued to speak, Yuno became lost in his thoughts. Since the day he decided to become the Wizard King, he has worked single-mindedly to make his goal come true. No matter what hardships or unfairness stood in his way, he would find a way to push them aside, or, at least, that was his intention. However, he couldn’t answer Vangeance’s question. Even now, he still didn’t know the answer. He wasn’t prepared. The fact he still didn’t know the answer filled him with frustration. He felt as if he was just told he wasn’t working hard enough, or that he was too naïve.

“Oh, come on!”

As if she could sense Yuno’s state of mind, Bell opened his book pouch without permission, opened his grimoire, and pushed it against his face.

“Huh!? What the heck are you do-

“Look! After getting your grimoire, you filled so many pages in just half a year! No ordinary person would be able to do that! This is proof of your weird fixation on trying too hard!”

“I’m not sure if you’re trying to compliment me or insult me.”

“To make matters worse, your legs are long, your eyes are like almonds, and your cuticles are flawless! Everything about you is amazing, you hottie!”

“As I said, are those compliments or insults? You’re throwing compliments at me with all the tension of a tirade, so it’s confusing.”

Though Bell was annoying, for once her rampage helped him. The thoughts that were plaguing him earlier were the type that do not stop once you let yourself start thinking about them. He was grateful that she forced him to stop thinking about it. The captain’s question was one that should be taken very seriously, but it was not something he needed to think about right now. Yuno wasn’t sure if this was what Bell was trying to say, but, at the very least, that was the conclusion she led him to.

“……I understand, Bell……. Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome! I don’t really get why you’re thanking me, though!”

As they continued their usual exchange, Bell pulled Yuno’s grimoire away from his face. When she did, Yuno noticed that the drawing Silka gave him earlier fell out. He had put the drawing in his book pouch, so when Bell pulled his grimoire out from it, it fell by accident. When he picked it up, he patted the soil of off it and moved to put the drawing back in his book pouch, but then,

“……Hm?”

When he looked at the drawing, there was something about it that made him a bit uneasy.

“………..!”

And then, he realized it.

Even so, there were many holes in his hypothesis. If he was right, then his opponent made a rather careless mistake. However, if his opponent really was that careless, then it’s possible that……

“I’m sorry for taking so long. Julius-sama ended up roping me into a conversation.”

Vangeance returned with three juices in hand. Yuno didn’t respond to his voice, only staring at him in silence. It would be too hasty of him to mark him as a suspect. However, if his hypothesis was correct, then that would explain what Yami was saying earlier. To find more evidence, first, he should……

“……Captain Vangeance.”

With tension rising, Yuno turned toward Vangeance and uttered these words,

“Captain, may I see what’s in your book pouch?”

“……….”

In response to Yuno’s question, Vangeance smiled back at Yuno with his usual elegant smile from beneath his mask.

……No. This wasn’t his usual smile. There was a hidden meaning behind it.

 — To be continued in Part 2 —

As usual, expect the second half next week! Did any of you catch what Yuno noticed when he looked at the drawing?

I know I keep gushing on about how great each chapter is, but the chapters in this book are just too good! This chapter was just too cute! William being a total sucker around kids was cute! Yuno thinking about how much he wants to protect those kids was cute! Yami’s class being a hit with kids was cute! And Mereoleona… well, I don’t know if I would describe her scene with those kids as “cute”, but I loved it nonetheless!

I think this might be the most progress Charlotte has ever had toward her relationship with Yami. She actually managed to give him something she made, and he liked it!

I’m also glad Yuno is hesitating in his answer toward William’s question. He may be a Magic Knight, so it may be his duty to sacrifice his life for the citizens, but he’s only about 16 years old at this point in the story. It would be strange for a 16-year-old to be okay with sacrificing his life.

#Black Clover #Yuno #william vangeance #mereoleona vermillion #yami sukehiro #Charlotte Roselei #Asta #klaus lunettes #mimosa vermillion #noelle silva #sol marron #Book of Yuno #My translations

[delemenko]

At Ease

So, I wrote this as a birthday present to myself. I don’t remember half of what I typed and as per usual, I didn’t check for grammar or spelling errors. I’m pretty sure that this fic falls into the Sharp Cheddar Gang because I refuse to give up my romance.

A couple of things to mention, as with all of the pre-Warriors fics, I must mention that this takes place before Cowboy gets his Stetson (Jeez, I should probably organise these fics chronologically, huh?) and I headcanon his pre-Cowboy name to be Harris. Also, the character Adelay doesn’t speak, so she communicates mostly in ASL, and I’ve done my best to italicise her dialogue. though, I hope you enjoy this and constructive criticism is appreciated.

If there was one thing Harris knew about A.J., it was how easily she flustered whenever she was uncomfortable, or startled, or embarrassed, and that didn’t take much. Adelay gave her a light-hearted hug last week, and her face immediately turned bright red. Of all of the members of their friend group, she seemed most comfortable with Adelay, having known her in middle school, but there wasn’t much difference in how she acted toward her overall. He couldn’t tell if she despised affection or if she just didn’t like being touched. She was nice enough to everyone, but it was obvious she still felt outta place within the group, despite them all having been friends for the better part of a year at this point. 

So, it came as a surprise to him when she agreed to go to the festival they were having at the beach that Saturday.

“I have nothing to do on Saturday, so sure why not? I’d love to go. Of course, I would have to ask Nikola, but I’m sure he’d be alright with it.” She was distracted by something, so she didn’t catch his surprised expression.

“Alright. Cool. We’re all meeting up at Juka’s house that afternoon. Do you know how to get there?”

“Yep. It’s on the way to my house actually.” She grabbed her bag off the table. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, see you then.” He said, watching her walk out the door, suppressing his urge to smile. 

 -----

“You sure she’s actually gonna show? I’m still surprised she actually agreed to comin’ today.” Noah said as he flopped down on the couch and put his feet up, before opening up a bag of chips.

“I hope she wouldn’t bail. She doesn’t seem the type,” Harris said. “It seems like she might at least let someone know unless it was an emergency or she couldn’t reach them.”

“I’m pretty sure she would say something,” Juka said walking back into the room. “Noah, get your feet off the couch!”

Noah moved his feet back onto the floor. “Alright, don’t kill me,” 

There was a knock at the door which Juka went to answer. Noah put his feet back up out of spite. “You get my feet of the stupid couch.” He mumbled under his breath, causing him and Harris to burst out laughing. 

He put them back down when she started walking back, A.J. and Adelay in tow. “We can leave in a moment, I just realised that I don’t have any flowers, I’m gonna grab some,” She said before turning back to Noah. “Don’t put your feet back on my couch.”

“Juke, I’m hurt that you think I would do such a thing! You’ve got nothing to worry about!” 

“Yuh huh.” She headed upstairs and the moment she was gone, he put his feet back up for a moment, causing A.J. to laugh slightly. 

“You’re gonna get yourself into some serious trouble!” She told him. 

 “Nah, she don’t mean it. She don’t care as much as she acts like.”

“I get the feeling she’ll kill you just because she can,” Adelay signed, “I mean, she’ll say it’s because your feet are on the couch, but this stems deeper than that.”

Noah was about to reply when Juka walked back in the room. “Let’s go, children.”

“Yes, Mom.” Adelay got up off the floor immediately. “Finally, we can leave since Juka started moving her ass.” 

“Hey, I saw that!” Juka called out as Adelay went outside, the rest of the group following.

-----

The walk to the beach went by quickly; everyone making conversation on the way. 

“Hey, A.J. You ever been here before?” Noah asked her.

“To the beach?”

“To the festival.”

“Eh... Nikola used to take me when I was younger, but I haven’t been in years.”

“Any real reason?” 

“He works a lot these days, so we don’t go much anymore. Plus, I rarely have time to go, because of my schedule.” She shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve been able to go in years. Do you all go a lot?” 

“My parents usually take me and Harris, or sometimes his dad will take us, but my parents are out of town, and I think his dad is workin’,” Juka explained, to which Harris nodded.

The beach was pretty crowded, so they knew that the lines to get food would be very long. There were people and tents everywhere, if there were any more people, someone could easily get lost in the crowd. “It’s way more crowded than it usually is… I think there was half this amount last year and the year before.” Harris looked around at the crowd, “You can barely see the sand anywhere.”

“Yeah, it’s almost annoying. Though I did hear a lot of the other kids at school mention that they were going, so it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s just a bunch of high school kids here... I want some caramel corn. Anybody willing to walk over to the stand that sells it with me?” Adelay queried, moving out of the way of an oncoming group of kids. 

“Yeah sure, I’ll go.” Harris said.

“Do you think they’ll sell kettle corn?” A.J. asked, her voice quiet, though it was likely because it was already so loud at the beach.

He thought for a moment. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Come on. Juka? Noah? You two comin’?” He asked, looking back at the pair.

“No thanks. Be careful not to get lost!” Juka told them.

“I’m gonna hang back too,” Noah agreed as the three walked off to find the stand.

The three made their way through the crowd, not seeing the popcorn stand anywhere. “You sure it’s this way, Elle?” Harris questioned with a raised brow. “I can’t see over anybody.” 

Adelay gave him a shrug in response.

“Did you see it, A.J.?” Harris turned to look at her, or at least turned to look at where she was before. “A.J.?” He looked around him but she was nowhere to be found, “Oh, shit. Elle, we lost A.J.!” 

Adelay looked at him before looking around. "That's not good. Come on." 

The two walked through the crowd, Adelay grabbing his hand so that they wouldn't get separated. They searched everywhere, behind the tents, near the stage the band was using, and around the restrooms. Their clothes and faces were covered in sweat. Adelay said she needed to go to the restroom anyhow, so  Harris waited for her.

Harris found himself getting frustrated with the ordeal. Anything could've happened to her. We didn't even notice she was gone. What if she got trampled by the crowd or something?" He pushed that thought from his mind. He wasn't fond of the idea that she had gotten herself hurt, or any of the people he cared about getting hurt for that matter. Then, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to it, and sure enough, it was a smaller person wearing a maroon Cordovan hat.

"A.J.!" He tried waving to get her attention. A.J. turned around upon hearing her name, trying to navigate the crowd. When she turned, Harris let out a sigh of relief. Once she got closer, it was apparent that she had found the popcorn stand, carrying two bags of kettle corn and one bag of caramel corn.

"Where did you guys go? I told you where the stand was! It wasn't-" Before she could finish her sentence, Harris gave her a tight hug, almost without thinking. She froze, shocked for a moment before trying her best to hug him back. The back of his head touched her face and she knew her face would start turning red any moment. Despite this she felt comfortable in the embrace in a way she couldn’t put into words if she tried. The pair released each other; her face now slightly reddened, though it was more prominent on the cheek that his head had touched. Adelay walked out a moment later.

“A.J.! Where were you? You know how worried we were about you?”

 A.J. simply handed the caramel corn to her. "I bought you this."

"How much did this cost?" Adelay wondered, looking at the bag.

"Don't worry about it. Consider it a gift." A.J. smiled.

"What's the second bag for?" Harris asked.

"This is for Nikola. He loves kettle corn a lot. The first bag is for everyone here, so you're welcome to have some."

The three returned to the table; Juka and Noah not noticing them return. “Damn, how long was that line?” Noah looked at them with a confused expression. 

“It wasn’t that long, surprisingly, not that these two would have any idea,” A.J. said with an amused look. “They got lost. I bought three bags of popcorn, because if you buy two, they give  you a third one for half the price, so I got one for Nik!” She said holding up her bags with a bright smile.

“I specifically told you all not to get lost!” Juka gave them a look. 

“We didn’t get lost. We lost A.J.!” Harris responded. 

“Well, I wasn’t lost. I actually found what we were looking for.” She looked at him, shaking her bags to prove her point.

Juka chuckled softly. “Yeah, alright. Let’s hurry up and see if we can’t get a good spot. I kinda actually want to go watch them perform.” She stood up. ”Can I have some of that caramel corn?” 

Adelay opened her bag and allowed Juka to take a small handful out. The group then headed over to the area where the band was performing as the evening sky set in. Noah kept stopping to buy snacks along the way.

“This thing comes around once a year, and I like festival snacks, so I’m buying everything and you can’t stop me.” he said, stuffing another candy box into his backpack. There’s something missing though…” He looked around before he found the tent he was looking for, “Oooh… Hey, I’ll catch up with ya later, bye!” 

“Wh- Noah?!” Juka called after him. “Only this kid! I get the feeling he needs to be supervised.”  

“Nah, he’ll be fine! Let’s go.” Harris turned back to the area where the band would be performing, the other three following behind.

They stood watching the band perform an upbeat song, everyone around moving their feet or waving their hands and generally having a good time. Even A.J. seemed to be getting into it, her hand on her hat to keep it from falling off as she danced with Adelay she shook the bags of kettle corn with the other. 

Juka and Harris laughed at her energy. Harris leaned over to her, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s a totally different person from the person who showed up with us. Maybe we still haven’t found her yet.” 

“Maybe, her voice does seem a bit deeper than earlier!” Juka shot back as Noah walked up with an ice cream cone. “Found you and it was definitely worth it to go back. I have ice cream.”

Juka looked at him incredulously, “You found an ice cream stand and didn’t say anything? Take me to it! Please.”

Noah feigned annoyance. “Alright alright! Harris, you comin’?”

“Yeah, I’m down for some ice cream.”

“Elle! A.J.! You guys want to go get some ice cream?” The two in question turned to the trio.

Adelay’s face lit up. “Yes, always!” She ran up to the others in anticipation.

“No, thanks! I’ll watch the band and save our spot!” A.J replied, turning back to watch the band. 

“Alright, let’s move!” The other three laughed and started walking.

Harris looked back at A.J. briefly. She stood watching the performance, her right hand hanging onto her bags of kettle corn  “On second thought… I should stay… We probably shouldn’t leave anybody by themselves, right?”

“Oh, good point. I’ll bring you back a cone, You want chocolate-vanilla swirl, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Noah!” He said as he made his way back to where they’d left A.J. She’d been so busy watching the band, she hadn’t noticed that he’d come back. “Hey!”

She looked mildly surprised at his return, but she didn’t seem upset by it. “I thought you went with the others to get ice cream.”

“I changed my mind. Noah’s getting me some. I didn’t want to leave you by yourself.”

“I mean you could’ve. I wouldn’t have cared much.” She said, fixing her glasses.

“I’m assumin’ you don’t want the company then?”

“It’s not about that. The company is nice, and I’m grateful that I have it. I’m just used to not having it, so I’ve grown accustomed to not complaining about it, and I learned not to ask for it. It’s easiest to distance myself rather than constantly needing company.” She tilted her head slightly, as if in thought.

Harris didn’t have a response for that, but he didn’t like the empty feeling it gave him. He couldn’t imagine not being able to hang out with his friends, or just refusing to ask people to hang out. He couldn’t count how many times he’d call Juka to ask her to come over when they were younger, but for him to just not spend time with her... It sounded… lonely. He thought about what he could say next, then he found what he thought was the best response, but it could just as easily be the worst one if the implication upset her. “Well, I can’t speak for the others because they’re usually pretty busy, but I wouldn’t mind if you called me up to go have fun sometimes.”

She looked at him for the first time in their conversation, a bit taken aback. “I’d be on board with that.” Despite her initial expression, Harris didn’t miss the way her face lit up afterward. She looked back at the band.

Harris noticed it then. She wasn’t flushing. In fact, her face was pale as ever, not even showing any signs that she could be the least bit uneasy.

‘Well, I don’t only turn red when I’m flustered or uncomfortable. I have sensitive skin, it turns red at anything touching it. Plus, I’m fairly pale, so naturally I’m more prone to getting red skin pretty easily.” He must’ve had a confused expression because she clarified. “You said that aloud.” To which he gave a hum of satisfaction. Thinking about it, when they stopped hugging earlier, her face was slightly redder on one side than the other. He hadn’t paid much mind to it though.

“Not sure why I’d be flustered though. I don’t feel uncomfortable around you. If anything, I feel more comfortable with you and Adelay than most people. You’re easy to talk to and your naturally relaxed and cheerful demeanour makes you a fun person to be around. It’s relaxing; it’s like… letting go of tension I didn’t know I had.” 

Harris turned away from her, feeling his own face start to heat up. He didn’t know what he expected her to say, but he certainly knew that it wasn’t that. He couldn’t come up with a response, but A.J. didn’t seem to mind and he was grateful that she didn’t notice his face turning red, or maybe she just didn’t care. After his face returned to normal he looked at the band again, enjoying the comfortable silence that listening to the music brought. He felt a slight warmth near his right hand, looking down and noticing that A.J.’s hand was close to his own. He couldn’t tell if she moved her hand closer on purpose or not, but he didn’t know if he wanted to question it. He grabbed her hand gently, causing her to look down at it, before interlocking their fingers in response and looking back up at the band. He’d taken her hand before, but it was different this time and both of them were aware of it. For all they knew, it could’ve been a reaction for the moment and they’d never speak of it again. Of course, neither of them wanted that to be the case.

-----

Juka, Noah, and Adelay were finally heading back to where Harris and A.J. were. “Man, everyone wants ice right now. Do people really eat ice cream at night?” Noah asked, taking a lick from his cone.

Juka looked at him, dumbfounded. “Noah, is that an actual question?”

“Yeah, why?”

Juka and Adelay shared a look. Trying to keep from bursting into laughter and just as Juka was about to explain, Noah realised.

“Oh, wait! That’s a stupid question! And now I don’t even remember what I was trying to ask!” He sighed as the two girls covered their mouths with their hands. “Anyways! I hope they’re doing okay.”

“I’m sure, they’re fine. I don’t think they’d get into too much-” Juka looked over, noticing where they were standing, immediately noticing their interlocked hands. “Trouble…” Noah and Adelay followed her gaze. 

“Huh. I wouldn’t have picked up on that.” Noah said, walking towards them. “Harris, I got your ice cream! Be careful, it started melting on the way here, sorry.” 

Harris and A.J. turned around; Harris taking the ice cream cone with a grateful smile.

Adelay walked up soon after, the four immediately making conversation.

Juka hung back a bit, shaking her head in amusement. “Lookin’ back, I really shoulda seen this comin’.” she laughed before joining the group.

#the warriors #the warriors 1979 #cowboy (the warriors) #the warriors 1979 ocs #the warriors ocs #kaleny's questionable quality fanfiction #fanfiction

[viceprints]

Following their theme of the Seven Deadly Sins, Vice returns with their second studio album EGO on June 20th, 2015. Leading with the title track “Satisfy”, EGO is full of songs relating to one’s pride. 

AESTHETICS:

Purple theme this time around.

A lot of fake fur and animal prints (never real, Vice doesn’t support use of real fur).

They lowkey looked  like Dionysus cosplayers this era.

The eye makeup this era…. Wow. Vice wanted to look as regal as possible, so they got a lot of purple eyeshadow and bronzer. 

Generally very lush and expensive-looking.

THE MUSIC VIDEO:

This music video is more performance-based than acting-based, but there still was solo shots of the boys sitting on their thrones with different crowns and objects on them.

M.H. is the center for this era, but he had minimal props besides a large crown on the top of his head. The throne he sat on was clearly the biggest and most goddy. One of his scenes, he stood up on the throne, placing one foot on the backrest. Then he pushed the throne back, riding the throne down like a surfboard.

Geonwu was on a throne that was covered with silvery purple silk sheets. The crown on his head was really delicate and silver. The wind blowing around him made the sheets ripple. Despite the regal energy he was exuding, he still slouched in his chair. In one shot, he has the crown on his index finger, lazily twirling it around in a circle.

Woodie’s throne was upholstered with a deep red velvet, and the back of his throne was carved ‘gold’ made to look like decorative flames. In his shots, he was seen leaning forward, tapping his finger onto his clenched jaw. One of the most memorable shots for Woodam was when he took the scepter in his hand and swung at the throne in slow motion, breaking the back piece of the throne.

Cyth’s throne had green vines growing around it, growing thickly as the shots of him progress. His crown has green emerald jewels embellished on it. In his shots, he’s leaning back in his throne, trying to look disinterested, but his jaw is tight and his facial expression is hard when he raps.

Seokyu’s throne is surrounded by gold and money. His throne is made out of what looks like gold coins. His crown is almost as goddy as M.H’s. Resting on his thigh is a deep purple velvet pouch, inferred to have money inside. His hand is always resting in front of it in a protective way. 

Ji’s throne looks like it’s made out of hands, painted in a rosy gold color. Half way through his shots, the hands start to move (cgi) and touch his chest and legs. His crown has little gold hearts embellished onto it. When he starts rapping and leaning forward, the hands reach out and pull him back, not allowing him to leave the throne. 

Kane is holding a golden apple while he lounges lazily on the throne. Strewn around him on the floor are the rinds of other golden apples. His throne looks very plush and comfortable. His last solo shot is him taking a huge bite of the apple. In the sequence of the video, the bite scene comes right before Woodie smashes his throne. 

The group shots are them dancing in a grand hall. The thrones that they are seen sitting on are positioned in a semicircle behind them. Above them is a grand chandelier and there is purple drapery coming down from the ceiling and covering the walls. 

The last shot is of all of them sitting on their respected thrones.

ERA NOTES:

Although Vice is finally breaking into the mainstream, this album didn’t sell as well as ARDOR. 

However, the era was still successful! 

The Satisfy music video reached 10 million views in the first 24 hours. 

The album topped at #5 on Melon, #3 on Mnet, and #10 on Bugs.

Satisfy won 3 music show wins.

After album promotions ended, Seokyu walked during a runway show for Dior in Seoul which caused a lot of people to be like “woah who’s that” and eventually start keeping tabs on Vice.

M.H. and Geonwu returned as MCs for Music Bank and were hosts when Satisfy got it’s first win. 

In July, Vice After Dark hosted their label mates and first juniors, S.O.T to talk about their debut. 

Speaking of which, S.O.T had a few interactions with M.H. and Geonwu at Music Bank during their debut and it was really heartwarming. 

FANDOM BEHAVIORS:

The fanbase didn’t really grow or shrink during this era, despite EGO not being as successful as their previous album

Since Triptych stans were stepping onto the scene, Virtues tried to be really sweet to them but it ended up with them being like “yo these kids are mad annoying lmaooo poor tyh.” 

Virtues got mad that Artychs weren’t streaming with them and got upset when an Artych called Vice old. 

Basically this is when Artychs and Virtues start their rocky relationship. 

#kumokocnet #kocsociety #peachykocnet #aeskocnet #koc community #skz addition #nct addition #bts addition #svt addition #kpop oc #oc kpop #kpop idol oc #kpop au #idol oc #oc kpop idol #fake kpop group #kpop idol au #vice.disc

[punishedalexandar]

so the organized Belarusian opposition has recently published a list of demands and i thought they’d be worth going over in addition to everyone who is covering the protests themselves.

the manifesto can be found here in russian (archive.org link as i’ve started getting a 508 error in between compiling this and writing it as a tumblr post). i will not go over every word there but i encourage you to read it yourself if you feel my summary is incomplete.

the second paragraph of the introductory section starts out saying “To create a modern labor market with low unemployment, opportunities for young people, economic potential for investors and entrepreneurs, it is necessary to establish a new balance of interests.” here it bears emphasis that according to the world bank belarus’ unemployment rate (source, world bank) is 4.5%, putting it on par with Austria. remember that low unemployment is the first thing listed by opposition economists, as this will be relevant later. when they tell us they are looking to reduce unemployment and create opportunities for investors in a country with regionally normal unemployment rates, what they mean is they want to create opportunities for investors only.

we now move on the the first bullet-point in the section “Problems to be Solved by Our Reforms”

“The labor market is over-regulated. Difficulties in hiring and firing employees“ this is for sure an odd criticism to make considering we were just told unemployment is apparently the main problem. i don’t know about you guys but i sure wish the labor market here was over-regulated and it would be more difficult to fire people. im not one to use reaction gifs but this would be a great place for a confused sassy black woman.

the bullet-point list is concluded by a repeated statement of grievance against the state for overstepping its bounds in determining the terms of an employment contract “reducing the incentive to work.” if your employer was lobbying for their right to increase the “incentives to work” in their contract with you, what do you think that’d look like ? what does that term mean in a practical sense, would your employer have to lobby the government to offer you lucrative overtime pay or would they rather lobby to reduce your base wage and then add a performance-adjusted “bonus” ? the second point simply states that “The government's job creation and retention policy focuses on maintaining large state-owned enterprises through cash infusions, though the resources of the state in the economic crisis are declining.” again as if a job retention scheme is inherently a bad thing.

on to the next list, “Goals and Objectives of the Reform”

“Development of a promising system of full and productive employment based on the priority of generally recognized principles of international law.“ it would be nice to know what is meant here by “recognized principles of international law” unless of course that means selling off of the before mentioned state jobs to international businesses at below-market value as was done in virtually every country in eastern europe in the last 25 years, in that case i would not like to know what they mean by that expression.

“support for the unemployed and workers at risk of job loss” just seems further contradicting all the previous grievances of how hard it is to let people go, so is your plan to jeopardize their position and then give them training and assistance to make up for the loss of job security you caused or ???

(TOP - “5. Modernization of infrastructure (roads, electricity, thermal energy, telecommunications, water supply, waste collection and environmental protection”

BOTTOM - “to attract investors”)

the rest of the list is really just more repeats or meaningless terms like “fighting corruption”

now we’re getting to the meat of the reforms: how they are proposing to realize them. in order to generate employees, they are proposing to: support the liberalization of hiring practices (most likely meaning introducing zero hour contracts), threefold reducing the individual tax rate, adoption of the patent (as a practice), threefold reduction in rental rates for objects owned by the state, reducing administrative burden by half. 

as a result of these changes, 300k jobs will be created in the next two years. the plan says verbatim “These places will be occupied by both young people and workers dismissed from state-owned enterprises.” now i must confess i did not go to business school but i feel like if you fire 300k people, and then re-hire (most of) them with worse contracts, while paying less to rent the factories or land they worked on before anyway, you really cannot say you “created” 300k jobs. idk tho just how i see it.

other highlights include “we should be allowed to sell you shittier quality products so you have to buy more of them”

gotta have a section on Small Businesses. everyone loves mom and pop stores and cool startups, best not think about how its precisely their smallness that makes it so easy for large (foreign and domestic) companies to buy them because they don’t have the overhead to withstand larger companies operating at a temporary loss to compete. precarious small businesses trying to not be pressured into bankruptcy are going to be an excellent sponge to soak up all those employees we dismiss from state-owned enterprises and force to move cross country to get jobs (it literally says labor migrants from other regions and cities in belarus will fulfill this demand for workers. why do they have to migrate ? i dont know)

ok now that we’ve fried the small fish here comes the big boys. “3. Take all possible measures to attract foreign investors, including transnational corporations (TNCs).” finally a chance for the proud and appropriately-valued youth of belarus to work in call centers and machine tool manufacturies owned by T-Mobile and Volkswagen.

here’s what they simply have to do to get those charitable transnational corporations to toss these cold slavs a penny: large-scale privatization, land market (ie. privatizing forests or areas with natural gas or mineral deposits), creation of legal guarantees for property rights, acceptance of EU-given standards for goods an services (shout out to the real ones who know the EU literally has regulation allowing the use of cheaper and more dangerous pesticides and perservatives on goods meant for export to the eastern part of the EU “in order to be able to sell at competitive prices in countries with lower relative value of the same currency we forced you to use”) 

im gonna start skipping around more because there’s a lot of repetition, a lot of “once we fire all these people we can re-hire them, and that means we’ll create another 100k jobs” but this phrase specifically stands out and demands having attention called to it. detoxification of assets is business talk for when you steal something and then just say it wasnt stolen and everyone agrees that was very cool actually.

and here we have the experts who developed this proposal. 

Lev Margolin - a Belarusian economist who regularly prostrates himself in public begging the IMF to impose privatization, even calling for public unrest in 2016 in order to force the international community to intervene and force those measures.

Yaroslav Romančuk - a libertarian politician, president of the Mises Center for Scientific Research thinktank. in an interview with Radio Free Europe - Georgia published Aug 15th, openly stated that there were interests in ukraine associated with the pro-EU euromaidan movement interested and willing to oversee transition to a free society. he also named Mikheil Saakashvili as someone who he would like to be a mediator between the opposition and president lukašenka. Saakashvili is the former president of Georgia, having come to power during the 2003 Rose Revolution (hi mr Soros), whose tenure is highlighted by a strong push towards NATO membership, increasing the military budget by a multiple of 30, and starting joint drills with the US Army. he also privatized georgia’s healthcare system, leaving a great deal of the population without healthcare as they were stranded between being able to afford private, but not being poor enough to qualify for the public option. a short five years after becoming president, allegations of corruption, money laundering, extortion, and abuse of power were made against him, in response to which he had early elections which he won amid widespread accusations of voter fraud. hmm. later he would be so popular he had to flee to ukraine in 2014 after euromaidan where he was appointed governor of odessa and given ukranian citizenship (yes, in that order). crazy how ukraine doesnt allow its citizens to be extradited or something. anyway yeah thats the guy the opposition wants to be the mediator between them and lukašenka

Stanislav Bogdankevič - former chairman of the Belarusian National Bank ousted on suspected embezzlement and money laundering charges and also an IMF beggar. hobbyist advisor to ukrainian politicians and belarusian politicians acting in ukraine.

Mikhail Čigir - former prime minister of belarus, seems to be household name soft opposition, has interviews with RFE Belarus but doesn’t seem openly linked to the IMF or calling for widespread privatization like the rest on this list.

if you’ve made it to the end or this is the last thing you see before scrolling by, i want to emphasize that i am in no way contesting the accusations of voter fraud. there is not a chance lukašenka got 80% of the vote as he claims, nor am i defending treatment of the protesters. the people in the streets are overwhelmingly participating an organic social movement against the government. however it is rarely the people in the street who get to make the decisions following this sort of toppling of a system of power, rather well funded and well organized groups with ties to foreign interests who have something to offer to the international community (political and financial) in exchange for approving and orchestrating regime change. it is worth talking about what their plans are, and how similar plans have affected people in neighboring countries that were in similar situations. what i wish for the people of belarus is the ability to pursue fulfilling personal lives that are not marred by choices like “can i afford to start a family ?” 

#belarus #alyaksandr lukashenka #yaroslav romanchuk #sviatlana tsikhanouskaya #will prob edit and add tomorrow luckily im being paid big lukašenka rubles so i can say whatever as long as it ends with IMF kill yourself

[whatzaoverwatch]

The Reaper of the Opera Chapter 9: The Man Behind the Mask

Time for some backstories! It’s going to be a lot different than the original story so take this as you will.

First Prev Next

Nighttime/Managers Office

The group had made themselves to the managers office. Taking in the previous events as much as they could. Genji sat by your side while Hanzo remained close by. You remained quiet with your hand upon your collarbone, tracing where the ring once rested. Trying to ease yourself from the return of the man that haunted you. Lucio had been reading the book he was give of the performance they were forced into. The confusion on his face was evident on how much he wasn’t a fan of the work. Hana left in a rather distress situation by his side, mumbling to him every now and again with a few saddened sobs. Fareeha and Jesse remained by Anas side while she was sat down before everyone else. A tea freshly made for anyone to take part of. Reinhardt and Torbjorn sat at their assigned desks to take in the situation. The smallest of the group rather determined to figure this whole thing out.

“Alright Ana, we want to hear everything,” Torbjorn demanded, a lot more bitter than he was before, “who exactly is this Reaper and what does he want with this company?”

Ana took a sip from her tea, taking a second to have herself composed. Clearly uneasy with herself in this situation. Her eye scanning the room to take in their rather tense expressions. Her sight fixated on you before she finally spoke.

“When the Overwatch Opera Company had opened its doors, the public only knew of one owner: Jack Morrison. But there was another who had a say on the theatres creation. His name was Gabriel Reyes.”

Jesse’s brows furrowed by the name. A hand over his metallic arm in silence. Looks around the room were seen by the unfamiliar name. Fareeha looked to her mother as if she had remembered something.

“He was that costume designer from years ago. The one you always told me about.” Fareeha spoke, feeling Ana place a hand over her own.

“You were so young habibti, he was there the day that you were born. He and Jack became your godfathers. Always making your most beautiful dresses,” She recalled, almost imagining the little girl that was so eager to see the shows long ago, “But he was more than that, he took care of the backstage, assisted with the performances, helped build and finance the theatre from scratch. Even took in Jesse so many years ago as an assistant.”

“We don’t need to go into that detail mam.” Jesse was quick to speak up, the memories still too raw in his head to have brought up. Ana nodding in understanding.

“My point is: he was a huge asset to the creation of this theatre. If anything, he was just as much of an owner as Jack was.”

“How come we hadn’t heard about him? I never saw his name in any of the articles I had read.” Reinhardt questioned, taking a teacup for himself to have a drink. Ana rested her cup to the side, her face softening at the memories.

“When we were opening the building, we were only allow to give the manager title to one person. He thought it’d be more suited for Jack to bring in the younger folk. He was happy that Jack took on the title while he took in the behind the scenes work. However, the glory of the opening didn’t last,” She confessed, her hands now folded in her lap, “We were not selling the tickets as well as we did at the opening. Tastes changed overtime on what the public wanted to see. Trying to please the more modern attendees with some new work. Nothing was ever enough. Jack and Gabriel had argued about whether to keep with tradition or aim to please the newer generation. Gabriel wanted to try some of his own creations, but they would’ve never impressed the critics. What was truly the downfall was the incident.”

“Incident?” Reinhardt perked up, gasping at a sudden realization, “You mean the stage accident which caused the entire theatre to burn down years ago? Many lives were lost that day.”

“The very one,” Ana stated, her head lowering at the memory, “A broken fuse caused the entire stage to go up in flames. Gabriel insisted he checked everything, but I found himself becoming distracted from his work. Jack and I tried to rescue as many as we could. Unfortunately, we couldn’t save everyone, and Gabriel was left behind in the building. Not a single trace of him could be found. We suffered greatly from that tragedy, losing money and our former supporters thought that it was a great risk to uphold the company. Having to rely on wealthy patrons and the community for support.”

“Our father included,” Hanzo recalled, having the attention upon the two brothers, “He was well known in preserving classic art. Part of his fortune would always be given to the theatre. Even [Name]s father contributed to that cause.”

Having you remember your father taking you to the theatre, drawing you into the passion for music in the first place. The theatre was also where you had met Genji long ago. An act of kindness and charity was what started all of this in the first place. Feeling Genjis hand over yours, your fingers curled around his in comfort.

“Sojiro and [Names Father] adored the company, they had wished for you three to take part of the company someday. I suppose it was fate for you two to return after all of these years.” Ana claimed, looking over to you and Genji. Torbjorn grunted to clear the attention away.

“As much as anyone wants to hear the history, I very much want to know about the present. Unless you are meaning to tell us that this Gabriel Reyes came back from the dead and became the Reaper.” Torbjorn wondered, scratching his beard while Ana looked to him with certainty.

“That is exactly what I mean to tell you,” The air hanging thick around everyone. Jesse lowly cursed while the others exchanged glances, “I thought for so long that he was dead. Jack and I even held a memorial. We lost a great man and a dear friend. It wasn’t until he had visited us one fateful night. We thought it was all a dream, but he made certain that it was real. He wasn’t the joyful, charismatic man that he once was. He was angry, cold, and cruel. Blaming us for leaving him behind to become what he was. Thinking that we had forgotten about him. All of him, body and mind, were taken in that fire.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Fareeha demanded, looking to her mother for any reason to hold such a secret. Ana turned to her daughter with a saddened look.

“He knew us too well Fareeha. He wasn’t afraid to take what we loved most. He would’ve come after you, he threatened to take Vincent from Jack. Telling us never to speak of him, letting his memory be held without his presence. He made us break the bonds of our loved ones. Sam left because of how much I pushed him away,” Ghosting over her left ring finger, a faint mark to where a wedding ring once rested. Grimacing at what occurred, she covered her face to compose herself, “Jack no longer wanted to be held responsible for him, so he gave up his manager position. He told me how he wanted to find peace. It hurt to see my friend drinking away when he had lost Vincent. When he left that day months ago, I knew Gabriel had gotten to him.”

“Why didn’t you leave?” Reinhardt asked, broken in his words as he knew the burdens that the older woman had to carry. Ana lifted her head, drawing her attention towards you.

“When I took in [Name] after her fathers passing, I had every notion of taking her and Fareeha with me,” You lifted her gaze to see the pain in your mentors eye, “But Gabriel heard [Name] sing. Wanting to know about the siren that echoed in his mind. He wanted her to become what he couldn’t. He instructed that I take her in as a student, while he would train her voice. At first, I believed that it was out of spite, to take in another that I cherished. But then I learned the truth.”

“That is?” Torbjorn asked, seeing the two of you give each other a silent stare. It was you who had spoken up to answer.

“He fell in love with me.”

Genji looked down at you with shock. Everyone having their eyes on you now as the pieces were put together. He had devoted himself to train you and take you away for so long. His words started to make sense on how he wished to not be forgotten. You are his only chance of escaping that isolation that he found himself in. You weren’t sure what he truly hid behind the mask, but it was enough to enrage him when you tried to look. The anger terrified you, now you found justification for his fury. Genji squeezed your hand once more with a hint of pain in his eyes. His emotions were not seen from you as Ana spoke once more.

“I began to see the old Gabriel again whenever he listened to your voice. Somehow you managed to bring that side of him, even if he no longer wanted to be seen,” Ana spoke with a frown, “I don’t expect your forgiveness, I have placed you and everyone else in great danger with this secret. I never wanted him to take it this far, but I fear on what he will do if we stray from his orders again.”

“So, if you had told any of us, none of this wouldn’t have happened?” Jesse asked, voice cold as his focus was on his arm. Ana turned to him, hearing the sour infliction in his voice. She tried to reach over to him for comfort, knowing Gabriel raised him like a son.

“Jesse-“

He quickly got up from his seat, denying any of the sympathy from Ana. Spinning around with a look of anger in his eyes.

“Reyes always had something to hide. This whole time he tried to raise me better than anyone else, trying to teach me to be better than I thought myself as. Even trying to save my ass during the fire all those years ago and here he is turning against his words?” He spat, pacing back ant forth before he slammed his fist against the desk, “The damn bastard is playing us all! We are nothing but a fucking show to him. I say you take us to where he is, and we settle this now.”

“McCree, he knows this theatre more than any of us,” Reinhardt stated, looking to Ana for any hope, “If he has been watching over us, then he has every intention of having a back up plan if we don’t listen.”

“Then we play his game,” Genji finally spoke, everyone's eyes now on the younger Shimada as he rose from his seat. Even you were curious on that suggestion, “All he wants is for his show to go on, right? Then let us give him the show.”

“What??” The two managers shouted in unison. Rising from their seats in disbelief of his words.

“Are you really sure you want to do this show? It’s already messed up from what I am reading. He really is living in the olden days.” Lucio piped up, placing the book down with a huff.

“Whether the show is successful or not, he wants it to be heard. The only way he will know if his piece is being played is if he is attending it himself,” Turning to Hanzo, he placed his hands on the sides of his arms, “We conceal the theatre, guarding it with our men at every corner. The moment he makes his appearance, we strike him down.”

Hanzo furrowed his brows from Genjis plan, only to find himself invested on the idea. The managers exchanging glances to find themselves giving into the plot as well. Fareeha was left to comfort Ana for that moment. McCree pointed to Genji with a smirk.

“I like the way you think, we corner him like the damn rat he is.” He stated.

“Finally, a good idea for once. We will do whatever we can to keep the place locked up tight.” Torbjorn agreed with crossed arms. Reinhardt raises his hand as if the ask a question.

“And what of the audience? Won’t they feel uncomfortable with the amount of guards around them?” Reinhardt pondered, trying to find some sense in the idea. Genji turned to the two men, thinking upon it with a hum.

“We will proclaim it as part of the show. Theatre these days always include audience interaction. It’s a cheap but cunning gimmick to hide what is really going on,” He plotted, pacing back and forth in thought, “so long as [Name] takes the lead role, he will come to see her. We can have everyone set up an-“

“No!”

You made your voice heard, rising from your seat in exasperation. His plan being withered into your brain, shaking your head on how it will plan out.

“Can’t you see that’s what he wants? He wants me, he wants me to sing for him,” Approaching Genji, you stepped in front of him in fear, “If you give him what he wants he will win. I won’t do it!”

“Oh great, NOW she doesn’t want to sing,” Hana huffed from her corner, wagging her finger at you with a glare, “You know that most of this is your fault. All because he wanted some pretty face new girl to show me up. Why don’t you actually play along and do what he says. In fact, why don’t we let him take her so he doesn’t have to bother us anymore?”

“Hana!” Lucio turned to her, having you shrivel up with guilt at those words. Hana not regretting her words from the bitterness she felt from Reapers insults.

You placed your hands over your head as you could hear the whispers once more. This was your fault. As Ana had said, he was drawn to you by your singing. All the pieces fell together so perfectly. If only you had shut away the voices. If only you weren’t a fool to be deceived by his songs. The angel of music your father made you believe would come for you. Shutting your eyes tightly, only to feel Genjis hands over yours.

“[Name], don’t listen to Hana. I don’t intend for him to take you away. We just need to follow his instructions.” Hearing Genjis words, you stepped away from him quickly.

“So, I am to be bait?” You whimpered, seeing the regret in his eyes, “Genji, you said me that you would protect me from him. That is what you promised me! What if your plan fails? What if he already knows what is going on? He will take me again! I will never be able to escape him. I can’t do this...I won’t!”

“[Name]…” He went to reach for you, causing you to smack his hand away. The action leaving everyone drawn back. Everything you had repressed began to crumble down before you. Tears building in your eyes, shaking uncontrollably before heading to the door.

“I need to be alone!” You cried, pushing past Hanzo and slamming the door behind you. Genji went towards the door, calling to you in distress.

“[Name] wait!” Halted by Hanzo, he gave him a stern expression.

“Leave her be, Genji.” He instructed his younger brother, watching his concern be directed towards the doorway.

“You ask too much of her,” Ana spoke, turning with a frown, “She is right, he may very well know of this plan.”

“So long as you remain here and not speak about it.” Jesse glare at the older woman sternly. Receiving the same cold look in return.

“Do you wish to imprison me? If you think I am some tattle tale then you are wrong. How long do you intend on keeping me here?” Watching as McCrees arm rested on the desk before her, a subtle reminder of what had happened.

“Only until all of this blows over. No offense but my trust in you right now isn’t in your favour mam,” Leaning against the desk, he points at the brothers with determination, “We will follow the plan, just make sure [Name] is prepared to take her place.”

“Understood.” Hanzo nodded, leaving Genji to worry about you in the meantime. Reinhardt slumped back into his seat, rubbing his head with a sigh.

“So, the show must go on.”

To be continued

#Overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch scenarios #overwatch au #Reaper #reaper x reader #gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #phantom!reaper #genji #genji shimada #genji shimada x reader #only a Shimada can control these tags #hanzo #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #pharah #ana amari #Reinhardt #torbjorn #overwatch imagines

[walter-1]

STUDENT ACTIVITY SHEET NO. 3

(Group Task)

Subject:  Media and Information Literacy

Topic:  Introduction to Media and Literacy

Group #:  Group 4

Date Given:  08/21/2020

Due Date: 08/22/2020

Learning Competencies:

1. Editorialize the value of being a media and information literate individual

2. Discuss responsible use of media and information

Group Members:

1. Walter M. Ortega Jr.

2. Karen Kizha Dayaganon

3. Gifford Jhon B Ubaldo

4. Rey U. Epan Jr.

5. Jeff Darrell Cranzo

Instructions:

1. Create an e-portfolio (personal online page) in Tumblr.

2. Compose an editorial based on the given title below. (See mechanics below )

3. Post your editorial on your e-portfolio (Tumblr account).

Mechanics:

1. The blog must consist of 2 paragraphs.

2. Each paragraph must have 150 words.

3. Follow standard format: Font Style/Size- Arial Narrow 12

Activity 1: Online Blog Making

“The Value of Being a Media and

Information Literate Individual”

Answer: Media and information literacy enables people to interpret and make informed judgments as users of information and media, as well as to become skillful creators and producers of information and media messages in their own right. MIL combines media literacy and information literacy under one term, and includes a combination of competencies. Media literacy emphasizes the ability to understand media functions, evaluate how they are performed and use them for self-expression, while information literacy emphasizes the importance of access to information and the evaluation and ethical use of such information.

It recognizes the primary role of information and media in our everyday lives. It focuses on the freedom of expression and information since it empowers citizens to understand the functions of media and other information providers, to evaluate their content, and to make informed criticism as users and producer of information and media content. Information Literacy and Media Literacy are traditionally seen as separate fields.

Instructions:

1. Provide the most logical explanation to each question.

Activity 2:   Critical Thinking Questions

1. What other characteristics of being media and information literate can you think of? Make a checklist of an ideal media and information literate person that you want to be.

Answer: I think a media literate person is someone with an open mind, someone willing to listen to every side of an issue. This doesn’t mean he/she has to have such an open mind that his/her brains fall out. Some ideas and positions make sense to an intelligent person and some do not. And it’s up to you to discriminate between truths and falsehoods. A media literate person is someone who READS a diverse number of publications and entertains many different points of view. I recommend the website, Real Clear Politics which everyday links readers to something like 15 different articles which express both liberal and conservative points of view.

•Determine the extent of information needed.

•Access the needed information effectively and efficiently.

•Evaluate information and its sources critically.

•Incorporate selected information into one’s knowledge base.

•Use information effectively to accomplish a specific purpose.

•Understand the economic, legal, and social issues surrounding the use of information, and access and use information ethically and legally.

2. What rules do you think you should live by to become a responsible media user?

Answer: Social media is often viewed as a blessing and a curse. Thoughts photos and videos are shared instantly and widely friends, family and complete strangers receive posts within seconds. In recent news, we’ve discovered lingering or residual effects in which past posts typically those posted in haste negatively impact young people seeking employment or educational opportunities. Have college applicants lost offers of admission or scholarship money due to social media posts they made when they were much younger. Experts in social media know that your profile is your brand and therefore it must be managed. People can learn a great deal of information about you through social media based on patterns of what you say, what you like and what articles and videos you enjoy. Given the fluidity of social media, refreshers on how best to separate our personal and private information benefit each of us. Here are a few tips and reminders to manage your social profile online responsibly and well.

• Own your image, personal information and how these are used.

Pay close attention to the Terms of Use on apps and websites. Most people skim through them to accept immediately, but it’s wise to take a closer look and read all the sections thoroughly. In some situations, you can opt out of automatic facial recognition tags.

• Obtain permissions

When posting videos or images of others on your networks. Never take photos of patients during procedures without permission.

• Scrub your accounts.

Posting to social media leaves an imprint. Delete anything that’s irrelevant, embarrassing or disrespectful. That includes inactive accounts. If you don’t want the entire world to see you in a compromising position, delete it. Reflect seriously on what you post before you post it; if you wouldn’t want to see it on the front page of the newspaper, or you wouldn’t want your family to see it, do not post it.

• Password diligence.

Update passwords frequently. Keep an eye on any dormant accounts if you decide not to delete them. Inactive accounts are prone to hackers.

• Spread love, not hate.

Share uplifting or positive posts in support of causes, subjects and persons you care about.

3. How would you put into actualization the ideas of being a media literate individual? Being an information literate?

Answer: The word literacy usually describes the ability to read and write. Reading literacy and media literacy have a lot in common. Reading starts with recognizing letters pretty soon. Readers can identify words and most importantly, understand what those words mean. Readers then become writers with more experience. Readers and writers develop strong literacy skills. Media literacy is the ability to identify different types of media and understand the messages they're sending. Kids take in a huge amount of information from a wide array of sources, far beyond the traditional media (TV, radio, newspapers, and magazines) of most parents youth. There are text messages, memes, viral videos, social media, video games, advertising, and more. But all media shares one thing, someone created in it and it was created for a reason. Understanding that reason is the basis of media literacy. Learn how to use movies and TV to teach media literacy. The digital age has made it easy for anyone to create media. We don't always know who created something, why they made it, and whether it's credible. This makes media literacy tricky to learn and teach. Nonetheless, media literacy is an essential skill in the digital age.

• Learn to think critically.

As kids evaluate media they decide whether the messages make sense. Why certain information was included, what wasn't included, and what the key ideas are. They learn to use examples to support their opinions then they can make up their own minds about the information based on knowledge they already have.

• Become a smart consumer of products and information.

Media literacy helps kids learn how to determine whether something is credible It also helps them determine the persuasive intent of advertising and resist the techniques marketers use to sell products.

• Recognize point of view. Every creator has a perspective.

Identifying an author's point of view helps kids appreciate different perspectives. It also helps put information in the context of what they already know or think they know.

• Create media responsibly.

Recognizing your own point of view, saying what you want to say how you want to say it and understanding that your messages have an impact is key to effective communication.

• Identify the role of media in our culture.

From celebrity gossip to magazine covers to memes, media is telling us something shaping our understanding of the world, and even compelling us to act or think in certain ways.

• Understand the author's goal.

What does the author want you to take away from a piece of media? Is it purely informative, is it trying to change your mind, or is it introducing you to new ideas you've never heard of?. When kids understand what type of influence something has they can make informed choices.

4. How does being an information literate made an impact in your life as a Licean? Do you think the university core values have helped you in the thorough understanding of these concepts?

Answer: For me the impact as an licean, it will makes me help to do something that i known to the knowledge that i read different janras of books or info that I'd have read to the social media like Google, Facebook, YouTube and more. Because its really gives me a hint of big help to my-self as an licean students. As a students that they have to learn and learn more as long as you've or we've got to know different information and gain more knowledge that in our brain, and thats brain is called a library critical thinking thoughts for me. That's why in every details that it comes our mind is a blessing because while you live in this world you need to know more a different knowledge because the knowledge is power and if you don't have the power of knowledge, then while you live in this world your life isn't called a none or null details information brain live human.

Yes, it's very big yes. Because the university of school in every school is very accommodating because they teach the students the way they wanted to know about what is this or what is that about something to will you improve in physical or mental development as an responsible students. The university of different or every school is that they wanted to the students is will know about core values like: loyalty, integrity, discipline and obedience because the way that they'll have this type of core values the students is more to be a better person in the future.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

For the Yandere soulmates thing i’d wanna see number 16 with Vittorio from Purple Haze Feedback. I think the feeling the pain your soulmate feels would work perfect with him because of how his stand Dolly Dagger works in canon. Xoxo

Yes yes yes! This is perfect! I've been wanting to write for some characters in purple haze feedback! Mainly because I've been a big fan of Jimi Hendrix since my class performed Purple haze back in 6th grade!

Vittorio is an interesting choice as well!

And lots of kisses and hugs to you too!

Scars (Yandere Vittorio Cataldi X General neutral Reader)

Warning: mentioning of drugs, drugs, lots of drugs! The use of marijuana and being drugged!

You groaned out in pain as you felt another cut appear on your arm. Your body was covered in cuts, scabs and scars for no apparent reason, it had always been this way.

Times like these were when you felt at your lowest. Sitting in shady streets of Naples as the stars shone in the sky while you bleed out, luckily you had a good friend named Mary Jane who could whisk you off your feet. You grabbed some of the dried leaves out from your pocket an wrapped it in some paper before grabbing a lighter and burning it up and taking a deep puff of it causing you to abruptly cough as you felt the smoke cling to the back of your throat.

Within a couple of minutes you felt you body loosen and your vision blur, it was definitely of the higher quality if one roll did the trick. It hadn't been the drug you usually got but it was cheaper to buy a couple of small bags of that then one shot of crack or a gram of coke or whatever drugs Passioné was selling.

You were mellow and almost unresponsive to anything in this state, you had no worry in the world at this stage. You just sat down helplessly, limply leaning against the wall as your eyes struggled to stay open.

You were a junkie with no dreams or aspirations. The lowest scum in town but you didn't care. Death was a concept you were all too familiar with like a traipse act you balanced above it's reach, one wrong move and it would swallow you whole.

As you were finally about to fall into a deep sleep someone kicked your leg. You groaned and mumbled profanities under your breath as you opened your eyes to see the ratty boy in front of you who looked more like a ghost or a ghoul then a human being.

He looked down at your form with his sunken lifeless eyes, his knotted, messy hair mostly counseled by a hood and his lips covered in cuts and scrapes pursed as he spoke.

"You look so pathetic there, lying in the streets like a shot deer" his voice was raspy and coarse like sandpaper yet ghostly like a creaking door.

You simply stayed silent. The marijuana had completely relaxed you to the point where even if you wanted to fight back you wouldn't be able to. You just had no energy to. The boy's eyes stayed on you as he grabbed a regular knife from his pocket and slowly traced the blade up his cheek, not enough to penetrate his skin but enough to feel the sensation of metal against his skin.

"You've lost your will to live, you sit here with no will to protect yourself... You're just asking to be extinct" he hissed in a disgusted tone as he kneeled down at you and put the knife near your cheek before chuckling.

"You almost have as many scars as me" he commented thought his laughter. You could now see his face more clearly, his pale face was littered with scars very similar to your own.

You still gave him no response which angered him.

"I'll give you another then" he hissed as he sliced your cheek open and mysteriously his own was cut in the process. He looked at you in shock as he felt the long slash on his cheek before smiling.

"Oh I see, you must be another stand user" he said as he pressed the blade against your neck.

"Stand user? God you're even higher then me to think of such a stupid concept" you slurred.

He then dragged the blade down quickly leaving a small scratch on both of your necks. The young teen was baffled by how both of you were receiving the same injuries. This wasn't the way Dolly dagger worked, he didn't even have it active.

He looked down at you and couldn't help but become absolutely smitten with you before he moved the blade to his eyebrow and made a cut and watched as a small amount of blood dripped from your eyebrow.

"Whatever trick your pulling isn't going to work against me" he said.

"Coz whatever it is, I love it!" He giggled before slicing his face again in a slow and painful fashion.

"Gigigigigigigigi" were the sounds that erupted from his throat as he did so, like a failing motor. You hissed out in pain as you felt your skin being torn. At this point you wanted to get away from him, you needed to get away from this young maniac. You stumbled as you tried to get to your feet. Once you did he took notice and grabbed you with his frail, boney hand.

"I don't think so... you're staying with me" he lulled as he pulled you closer before grabbing a syringe full of manic depression's drug and stabbing it into your neck. He giggled lightly as he felt blood trickling down his neck while he injected the liquid into you.

You thrashed around in his grip and screamed for a few minutes but once manic depression took effect you ceased. It was like the marijuana but worse, you had lost sense of the world entirely. You became dependant on the boy to move you around.

"I'll keep you with me from now on" he said as he pulled you around the streets.

"Surely Massimo wouldn't mind you being around, if not I'm certain that Angelica will persuade him" he said. You were so out of it you couldn't even determine the danger you were in.

No one would ever come to save you, no body would notice that you disappeared. As you were a poor invisible soul within this big world.

The male let out a laugh as he slowly dragged you into the darkest depths of the cruel world you lived in. The parts not even you had seen.

"I never even asked for your name" he said as he grabbed his knife once more an dragged it over your lips, the dark crimson liquid that dripped off of your lips were so beautiful to him.

"So what is?" He asked as he could taste the bitter metallic taste of his own blood.

"(Y/n)..." You muttered with a lifeless expression, you had completely succumb to the males dark desires.

"(Y/n)... What a pretty name" he mused.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere jjba #purple haze feedback #jojo bizarre adventure #jojos #jojo #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo part five #vittorio cataldi #jojo vento aureo #soulmate au #spacy works

[eeveevie]

Salvation is a Last Minute Business (2/18)

Chapter 2: How to Be a Detective in 10 Easy Lessons

It’s a new year, and Madelyn is trying to stay busy. Hancock pays a visit to the Detective Agency with an olive branch in the guise of a case for Nick. On the beat, a former mercenary turns informant with more information about the mysterious Railroad. Nick and Madelyn track down their missing person while Eddie Winter makes his first deadly move.  

“Well, sure there is. It comes complete with diagrams, on page 47 of 'How to be a Detective in 10 Easy Lessons,' correspondence school text-book and, uh, your father offered me a drink.” - Philip Marlowe as played by Humphrey Bogart (The Big Sleep, 1946)

x - x

Without giving much away, this is a content warning for a minor character suicide that mirrors the canon in-game side quest.

[read on Ao3] ~ [chapter masterpost]

January 10th, 1958

Nick’s desk was covered in case files, whiskey and cigarette ash—an organized chaos was what he liked to call it, but all Madelyn saw was a fire hazard. This was the way Detective Valentine worked best, however, frazzled and hunched over his scattered notebooks, mumbling incoherently behind the wafting plumes of smoke. The agency was for many the one gleaming beacon of hope in an otherwise dark and dishonest world. Nick had proved his reputation with the people was well earned by helping the community the best he could with the limited resources he had, maintaining a network of clients that kept him in business over the years.

“Everybody deserves their fair chance,” Nick always said, so much so that Madelyn considered putting it on a plaque for his wall—if the walls weren’t covered in photos, wrinkled maps and scribbled handwritten notes.

She found it all admirable, part of the reason she agreed to work with him when initially assigned by the District Attorney’s office two years prior. She didn’t realize that by staying, she’d be forging one of her strongest friendships, discovering one of her most trusted of confidants. Yet, as Madelyn lingered in the doorway of his office, she found it difficult to find the right words to say. She wanted to tell Nick about the clandestine note she received on New Year’s Eve, tell him she felt paranoid about being followed and wanted another training session at the shooting range. Instead, she continued to worry at her bottom lip, awkwardly shuffling the small stack of papers in her hands.

“You can stand there lookin’ like a doll or you can come in here and help,” he spoke, not bothering to glance up at her. Still, she noted his little smirk, eyes lit up as he scrawled away on his notepad.

“I know you didn’t hire me to be a pretty face,” Madelyn bantered, knowing it was all in good, clean fun.  She crossed the small space, planting herself comfortably on the cushioned seat in front of his desk.  

Nick gave a small shrug of his shoulders. “I didn’t exactly hire you. You just showed up here on my doorstep like some kitten left out in the rain.”

She laughed, thinking back to the early days of their partnership. Providing legal aid to a private detective that didn’t always play by the rules—it wasn’t the easiest of jobs for Madelyn. It wasn’t until she realized Nick was forced into the unscrupulous position by the Boston Police Department, who saw his presence as interference rather than assistance, never giving the agency the insider access they desperately needed. Perhaps if they did, there wouldn’t be so many unsolved disappearances or murders plaguing the city. That being said, she made sure Nick stayed out of trouble, pulling in favors where she could, the two using their powers of persuasion to find answers to burning questions. It was easier to toe the line than cross it, but each day as the violence and corruption spread across the city, the line became harder to see.

“What’s on the docket for today?”

The question had barely left her lips when there was a commotion in the lobby, Ellie’s frantic voice calling out as her heels clicked across the wooden floors. “Sir, sir! You can’t just walk in there. You have to have an appointment and—"

“No worries, sister,” the familiar, dulcet voice approached. “They’ll be happy to see me.”

John McDonough—Hancock—strolled through the doorway like he owned the place, ignoring Ellie’s protests. The mayor’s younger brother looked considerably different than he did the night of the police gala—dressed in dark slacks and half-buttoned up shirt, a faded red jacket with golden, frilled trim more suited for Halloween than streetwear. He plopped into the empty armchair, hooking his knees over one side and glancing to Madelyn with a wink.

Nick’s demeanor immediately soured. He pointed at the other man. “Speak for yourself.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have come all this way if it weren’t for nothing, Nicky boy,” Hancock grinned. “Can’t you bend an ear to an old friend?”

Madelyn focused on the detective’s expression, eyebrows knitted together in quiet contemplation as he rummaged for a cigarette before realizing he was fresh out. Hancock noticed, instantly reacting to produce a pack from his jacket pocket. He leaned forward to offer her first, but she declined with a silent wave, causing him to move to Nick. He hesitated, scrutinizing the gesture with narrow eyes before ultimately obliging.

“What are you doing here, John?” he asked, sounding more like the start of an interrogation as he struck a match.

Hancock appeared amused by Nick’s insistence on the name as he lounged back in the chair. “I have a peace offering for you. A case that the local police can’t be bothered with because of the victim’s so-called lifestyle.”

At Nick’s silence, Madelyn interjected. “What is it?”

“Missing person.”

Finally, Nick sighed, relenting. “Give us the details.”

As Hancock spoke, Madelyn wrote in her notepad, neat and succinct lines—they’d have more luck with her organization skills. The missing? Earl Sterling. Twenty-five-year-old bartender from the Fens who worked at the local sports bar across the street from Fenway Park. “Vadim, who owns the bar—close personal friend—came to me crying, thinking Earl had been snatched up by the boogeyman. But who would want to hurt Earl? He ain’t out to hurt nobody.”

Nick was nodding along, jaw clenched, clearly in frustration of another disappeared citizen. That would be thirteen—that they knew of. “And Boston P.D.? They think Earl was undeserving of a proper investigation?”

Hancock scoffed. “Friends in low places. Doesn’t matter that he’s squeaky clean. But since Vadim’s a Russian immigrant, a refugee that has had his run-ins with the law…”

“Of course,” Madelyn sighed, disheartened. It was a cruel underlying fact that not all Bostonians were keen to the changes the war brought. Most carried on with quiet discontent, but others were far more vocal to the point of outright bigotry. A child raised by virtuous parents, Madelyn knew better, ashamed of the city she had lived in all her life.

Nick could sense her stewing restlessness and spoke, nodding at Hancock. “We’ll take the case, track Earl down. One way or another.”

Curiosity got the better of Madelyn as she stared at the two men, sensing the lingering tension. Ever since Piper first mentioned the younger McDonough brother, Nick’s attitude had been uncharacteristically dismissive, and without explanation it was gnawing at her mind. “What’s the deal here?”

Hancock’s eyebrow arched high against his forehead. “Whatcha mean, sister?”

“The animosity in the air is thick enough that I could bottle it up and sell it as a fragrance,” she joked. “Might get rich enough that I could retire early. Buy that cabin up in Maine I always dreamed about.”

While Hancock bellowed out an impressed laugh, Nick sighed through his nose, lips set in a flat line as his cigarette dangled. Still, Madelyn knew he was amused, green eyes bright as he rolled them her way. Hancock’s entertainment settled as he crossed his arms over his chest with a final, breathless chuckle. “I’m surprised ol’ Nicky never told you about me and our time overseas.”

“You two served together?” she asked.

Nick reluctantly nodded, fingers tightening around the wrist of his prosthetic hand, the plastic-metal blend flexing. He didn’t like to talk about it—no matter how many years had passed between the end of the war and the present, it was still an open wound for many, including the detective. He balled his hand into a fist.

“London, during the Blitz,” he explained, in grim conciseness. “Was stationed in Kent in ‘41 during the bombsite recovery. As was John, though he was mostly preoccupied by the local…entertainment.”

Hancock hummed, with a faraway look in his eyes. “There’s something about the English accent, ya’ know?”

“You were disillusioned then, and you’re disillusioned now!” Nick suddenly snapped, hands smacked against the table as he stood up to loom over the other man. Hancock hardly looked intimidated, not even flinching as Madelyn did. “Sneaking off base to get your kicks in some back alley, coming back high as an Air Force bomber. No wonder you’re turned into a beatnik.”

“Better a beatnik than a dick,” Hancock murmured.

“Boys! Boys!” Madelyn stood up with a loud clap of her hands, garnering both of their attention as she stood. “Jesus Christ! Do I need to put you two in separate corners for time out like the curtain-climbers you are?”

Nick scrambled to sit back down, knowing it was a rare thing for her to use the lord’s name in vain, even lightly. Hancock snickered, but flinched when she whipped her head in his direction. “I think you owe Nick an apology, Mr. McDonough.”

He shifted uncomfortably like she had asked him to perform one of Houdini’s acts. “Sorry, Valentine.”

“We’re good, John,” Nick stood again, this time reaching over to extend his hand in some display of goodwill. Hancock took the offer, shaking it with a satisfied grin. “We’ll find out where Earl is.”

As the conversation came full-circle, Hancock tugged on the lapels of his coat and smoothed out the lines of his pleated slacks. He regarded Madelyn with a toothy smile, nodding his head once. “Miss Hardy.”  

She watched as he turned on his heel, slinking out the way he came. Ellie’s disapproving voice called out to him again in the lobby as the bell above the front door chimed, signaling his exit. Miss Perkins’ usual sunny disposition was marred as she leaned into the doorway of Nick’s office, bottom lip jutted out in a frown. “Who was that?”

“Sorry Ellie,” Nick sighed, moving to grab his faded trench coat from the nearby rack. Madelyn smirked, knowing Jenny had purchased him a new one over the holidays—one for Hanukah and Christmas—but there he was, slipping his arms into the same dusty rag. “Hopefully you won’t need to experience such indecency again.”

“Heading out?” Their secretary questioned, looking between the two of them with a shine of excitement in her features. She always liked when they were busy.

Madelyn gathered the case notes under her arm before quickly shuffling back to her own office, pulling on her cream-colored coat that was in much better condition than her partner’s. Purse and papers in hand, she met him and Ellie in the front room.

Nick was adjusting his hat. “Keep a light on for us, won’t you?”  

Ellie flashed a charming smile. “Always.”

Outside, there was a fresh blanket of snow on the sidewalk and a crisp chill in the air. Their destination was a short distance—only a few blocks east. She thought about what sparked their journey.

“Did you really mean that?” Madelyn questioned Nick as they walked in the direction of the Dugout Inn. He glanced at her, unsure of what she meant. “Disillusionment? Do you really not believe in Hancock’s cause?”

He made a sound, somewhere between a sigh and a groan as he rubbed at his chin. “I believe in results,” he answered, keeping his eyes focused on their path. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The Dugout Inn was a tiny hole-in-the-wall, located right on the corner of Boylston Street, opposite of Fenway Park. The clientele were mostly refugees, thanks to the owners, Vadim and Yefim Bobrov—immigrants from Russia who established the bar shortly after V-Day in 1945. Unassuming enough, though the two had their fair share of run-ins with Boston police over the years, mostly for expired liquor licenses or smuggling illicit moonshine. Never anything as serious as money laundering, tax evasion or murder. Mr. Bobrov’s good natured attitude had made him a valuable ally to Nick, perhaps even a friend, somebody the detective could turn to when searching for leads among the downtrodden and forgotten within the city.

Being a mid-morning Friday, it wasn’t surprising that the Dugout Inn was mostly devoid of patrons, save for Vadim’s twin brother and their lone waitress Scarlett who was dutifully sweeping near the back. There was one daytime drunkard, however, sleeping off his hangover in a faraway booth. Yefim was balancing the books at a nearby table, muttering about needing to pay the gas bill, barely acknowledging the passing duo with a wave. As they approached the bar, Vadim was beaming, wiping the countertop before them in earnest.

“Ah, my favorite gumshoe back to see old Vadim,” he set out two glasses, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want to try the latest batch? May not have ripened yet, but…you always had a good sense of knowing!”

Nick softly chuckled, but shook his head as he removed his hat, placing it on the bar. “I’m not going to be your guinea pig again, Vadim.”

“And what about the lovely lady lawyer? My lapochka?”

Madelyn smiled at his flattery but waved her hand at his offering. “No, thank you.”

Vadim went to speak but hesitated, instead scrutinizing their appearance in his bar. Sudden realization dawned in his expression as he tightened his fist into the cleaning cloth. “Are you here about Earl?”

Nick had barely nodded before Vadim continued with a sagging hang of his head. “Oh, poor Earl. Gone, just like that. Such a good bartender. Good friend,” he trailed with a forlorn expression that morphed into one of slight amusement. “Terrible with the women, mind you.”

“Always in his cups about his face getting in the way,” he further explained. “I say, no mug is too ugly for any woman! What says you, Miss Hardy?”

She joined him in laughter, humoring the old flirt. “Oh, Mister Bobrov, if you were thirty years younger you might have a decent chance at making an honest woman of me…again!”

Even Nick snickered, shaking his head at the exchange. But they were here on business, not for a friendly exchange of words or a casual drink. They had a man to find, sooner, rather than later. At his signal, Madelyn pulled her notepad from her purse, pencil at the ready for any information they might gleam.

“See anybody from Winter’s gang around here lately?” Nick asked, eyes narrowed when Vadim quickly shook his head, coughing to clear his throat as the tone shifted. Nick quickly glanced to Madelyn who offered a quick shrug. Maybe zeroing in on Eddie Winter wasn’t the best idea. Would Vadim even know what a mobster type looked like?

“Oh!” The proprietor said excitedly, hands waving for emphasis. “A few days ago, there was this young mercenary type that I’d never seen before. Lingered about for a few days. Greaser kid that looked like he belonged to a bad crowd.”

“Did he and Earl speak?” Madelyn questioned.

Vadim shrugged, eyes glanced upwards as he remembered. “Yes? No. All I know is he looked suspicious. A—and I haven’t seen him since Earl disappeared!”

Nick was twisting his lips—a telltale sign he wasn’t entirely sure he liked the credibility of the information—but they had nothing else to go on. He tapped his finger against the counter impatiently. “Do you have a name? A location? Think carefully, Vadim. For Earl’s sake.”

A moment passed as the bartender mulled it over in his head. Vadim then straightened, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. “MacCready! That’s his name! Rum and cola. Overheard him mention a hotel near Scollay Square…”

“The Rexford?” Nick mused, more to Madelyn than Vadim.

She nodded. “The Rexford.” 

Scollay Square by 1958 was not the thriving center of Boston theatre and community it once was. Practically a ghost town, with most buildings boarded up after being destroyed by fire or looters, few businesses remained. The Old Howard Theatre—long shut down by the Boston vice squad stood at the epicenter like a shining reminder of the past. Always Something Doing—but not anymore. The area was now known colloquially as Goodneighbor, nicknamed after Mary Goodneighbor’s 1953 striptease that ended it all. Goodneighbor was a hive of sex work and drug runners, bootleggers and mobsters, all just out to make their living in the world—the perfect place for a person to disappear.

Nick decided the trip west warranted the use of his black Cadillac. They’d make better time, and even he wasn’t one to be caught walking through Boston Common—even armed—at any time of day with the increasing crime rates. As they pulled up outside the Hotel Rexford, they observed a disturbance on the sidewalk, snow flurries disrupting their view. Madelyn was exiting the vehicle before Nick could rush over to pull open the passenger door, ever the gentleman as he offered his hand to her. But she was more focused on the three men in a clear argument on the hotel steps, carefully observing the interaction as she hooked her elbow around Nick’s arm.

“Well, we’re outside now!” The scrawnier of the three shouted from the stoop.

On the sidewalk below, a man with wide shoulders and a crew cut snarled back. “Didn’t have to be like this, MacCready! We were just here to deliver a message!”

Madelyn and Nick exchanged knowing glances but refrained from interfering. While they had their lead identified, the situation was hardly any of their business. It didn’t mean that they weren’t going to eavesdrop and make it their business, gather information that might come in useful later on.

“It only took you six months to track me down,” MacCready spoke, taunting his aggressors. “Winlock and Barnes. You two always hold hands across Boston? Don’t you know I left your wannabe gang for good?”

The man Madelyn assumed as Winlock shook his head, irritated as ever. “Yet here you are, taking jobs where you shouldn’t be. Listen carefully, MacCready, it has to stop.”

“Like I have to take orders from you,” he laughed and for a split-second Madelyn wondered if there was going to be a firefight the way the third man’s hand flinched along his side, reaching under his jacket.

Instead, Winlock defused the situation with a curt nod, signaling to his partner Barnes to step back. “We aren’t going to kill you. Today. Wouldn’t want a war with Goodneighbor, or with Winter.”

Nick’s hand around Madelyn’s arm tightened at the mention. Whoever these people were, they weren’t affiliated with the mob organization terrorizing Boston. MacCready crossed his arms, seemingly bored with the conversation. “Are we done here?”

The two thugs traded steely looks—this wasn’t over—not by a long shot. “We’re done. For now.”

As Winlock and Barnes passed the Cadillac, they took one slow, up-and-down look at the pair of onlookers before disappearing down an alleyway. Madelyn looked after them, deeply unsettled, but snapped back to the present as Nick swiftly led them to the lone man left on the hotel stairs, pacing as he kicked at the snow with his sneakers.

“MacCready?”

“Look pal, I’m not looking for any friends,” he said with a wince, shaking his head.

Madelyn looked at their would-be suspect now that they were up-close. For Vadim to have called him suspicious was not wrong, but if anything, the man simply appeared to be down on his luck. Overall, he looked nonthreatening: faded, rolled up jeans, dark flannel shirt with an army bomber jacket and a matching cap atop his dusty brown hair. He was skinny, like he had missed a few meals, and it made her wonder if he was another veteran of the streets that had returned from the war with no home to return to.

“We aren’t here to make friends,” Nick’s tone was firm, signaling it was time to take the proverbial gloves off. The man was squirmy and would need the two of them to act fast if they wanted the right information. “Do you know anything about an Earl Sterling?”

MacCready didn’t take to intimidation lightly. He narrowed his eyes, looking over both of them. “What are you, some kind of cop? Can’t do his job without his lady wife?”

“Lawyer,” Madelyn corrected, removing her hand from Nick’s arm. She gestured in her partner’s direction. “Detective. Best not say anything that incriminates yourself.”

Nick laid it on thick. “We know you were at the Dugout Inn when Sterling disappeared, MacCready. So do us both a favor and tell us everything you know!”

The man held up his hands defensively, bewilderment spread across his features. “Jeez! Okay!”

“I was only there for two days, following up on…something. Yeah I saw Earl there. Nice guy, if not a bit ugly, but who am I to judge?” MacCready talked and the pair listened, Madelyn scribbling away in her notepad the important details. “He kept talking about needing to get out of town. At first it was innocent like…for a fresh start to meet the perfect woman, but the more drunk he got, the more it sounded like he was running from the wrong kind of people.”

“Who?” she followed up quickly.

“Heck if I know,” he responded.

Nick prodded further. “He didn’t mention the mob or a loan shark? The Railroad?”

The mention sent a shiver down Madelyn’s spine. Why, she wasn’t sure. For all of their digging in the last two weeks, the organization—if it even existed—was still shrouded in mystery. She stalled in her notetaking and tuned out most of Macready’s response. “…it’s just a myth.”

A familiar expression fell across Nick’s face as he mulled over MacCready’s words. Helpful? Hardly. It was more of the same of what Vadim had offered, leaving them at square one. Earl was still missing, and they were no closer to determining why beyond a vague threat of needing to get away.

“I might have something you can use,” MacCready voiced, shifting awkwardly down the snowy stairs so he was closer to them. “But if I’m gonna help you, you gotta help me.”

“What happened to ‘not looking for a friend’?” Nick remarked with a light smirk.

MacCready grumbled under his breath, clearly uncomfortable with the circumstances of their visit. He wasn’t having a good day, it seemed. “All bets are off when your life gets threatened in broad daylight.”

“Is that what that was all about?” Madelyn asked, motioning towards the alley where Winlock and Barnes had wandered off to. She flashed a teasing smile, hoping to get a rise out of the man. “Colleagues of yours?”

“Fu—heck no,” he answered, censoring himself. Odd. She chalked it up to a man not wanting to curse before a lady and rolled her eyes. “They are Gunners. Small town gang that operates out of Quincy. I—I uh, used to run with them about five years ago. When I was younger. Dumber. But then I wised up. Got married and had a kid. Gig like that doesn’t really pay the bills, you know?”

“You’re married?” Nick asked, the two seemed to simultaneously note the missing wedding band. He was trying a different, more sympathetic angle.  

MacCready gave a solemn shrug, but his eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. “I was. But that isn’t any of your business.”

“Excuse me,” Madelyn blinked, the math not adding up in her head. “How old are you?”

MacCready chuckled like he was asked the question every day. “Twenty-two.”

Both her and Nick made the same surprised sound, staring at their suspect-turned-dud in disbelief. There went her veteran theory.

“I have a son, Duncan. He’s five years old,” MacCready continued, the emotions he expressed sincere. “I’m just trying to do the best I can by him. Can’t do that if I’m dead.”

“How do we fit into this equation?” Nick asked, tone softer than before. Madelyn smiled, knowing he couldn’t resist a hardship tale.

MacCready tilted his head back and forth with a low hum. “Two hot shot detectives like yourselves need an informant on the streets, right? Let me help you, and in return…”

“Lawyer,” Madelyn corrected, again.

“Exactly!” he replied, far too excited. “Crime and Punishment that sh—stuff.”

She decided not to lecture him on Russian literature and its vast differences to her actual career, which in itself were completely separate than what services she provided for the Valentine Detective Agency. She exchanged a silent, somewhat amused look with Nick, who seemed just as bewildered by the person they had crossed paths with. Finally, the two nodded and the detective extended his hand.

“Nick Valentine, Valentine Detective Agency,” he formally greeted.

MacCready chuckled as they shook hands. “You couldn’t make that stuff up, could you?”

His handshake with Madelyn was much softer, less amused. If anything, he seemed genuinely impressed. “Madelyn Hardy, attorney at law.”

“Robert Joseph MacCready,” he grinned. “RJ, Mac, MacCready. Whatever’s cool.”

“You have something for us?” she reminded, and he quickly removed his hand from hers with a short, excited inhale. The two watched as he patted the front of his jacket before digging through his pockets, finally producing a small key on a golden chain. “Is that…”

“Earl’s key,” MacCready answered with a sheepish smile, shifting his eyes away. “Figured if he was going to be running away, it might come in handy later on. Lives in those apartments near the stadium.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear this,” Nick muttered, shaking his head.

Madelyn wasn’t pleased that their best lead was stolen property, but at this rate, it was their best chance of tracking Earl Sterling down. She snatched the key from him before he could change his mind, tucking it away into her purse along with her notepad.

MacCready regarded her with a stern expression. “Remember my offer!”

She would. But for now, she and Nick had more work to do. 

That wasn’t the first time Madelyn and Nick had backtracked across town, chasing a lead on a case. As they raced through the Fens past the stadium to the grouping of apartments that matched the name on Earl’s golden key, she was grateful that at least this time they hadn’t been sent to Quincy, or Concord. By the time they reached the Parkview Apartments, the sun was setting and the frosty chill from the morning had settled to a near freeze. She couldn’t explain it, but an eerie sense of dread settled in her gut, putting her on edge. Nick seemed to feel it as well, the two dashing up the flights of stairs to make it to Earl’s door.

“What do you think we’ll find?” she asked, nervous.

“Not sure, but we’re about to find out,” he answered, prompting her to unlock the door.

Madelyn was careful, quiet in her actions as she clicked open the lock, Nick taking the lead as he pushed open the door inch by inch. She followed closely behind, the two making their way blindly in the darkened room, the only guiding light the moon that shined in through a broken window shade.

“Mr. Sterling?” Nick called out in a low voice, scanning the area. It was a tiny, studio apartment, with a kitchen nook, a foldaway bed, a small closet and a door that led to the bathroom. From what Madelyn could tell, their missing person wasn’t there. Still, Nick called out again. “Earl? Are you here?”

“Nick, something doesn’t seem right,” she whispered, stepping away to inspect the foldaway bed. Even in the darkness she could see the mismatched stains in the carpet, an overturned nightstand and a few pieces of broken glass. She held her breath before tugging sharply on the release, jumping backwards as the bed—and Earl—came tumbling out. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

Nick managed to turn on a lamp, revealing what she had found, rushing over to her side as she turned away from the horror, covering her nose and mouth as to not retch. He wrapped a comforting arm across her shoulders, exhaling a low, defeated sigh. Earl was dead, but more than that, he had been brutally murdered.

“This wasn’t Winter,” Nick mumbled, drawing a quick conclusion. Madelyn had to agree, even if they only had the scene to go by—Eddie’s men weren’t into butchering their victims. “We need to call—”

They both froze as a clattering sound echoed from beyond the closed bathroom door. Nick swiftly pulled his weapon from its side holster—a well-cared for .44 revolver—and motioned for Madelyn to move behind him. She followed his silent instructions, and reminded him that she too was armed, calmly removing the small pistol she carried from the purse on her arm. He glanced at her with a startled expression—she’d hear about this later—but kept moving closer towards the closed door.

“We know you’re in there!”

When the door creaked open, the two were faced with a familiar, but horrifying sight. Doctor Crocker, a local cosmetic surgeon stood with a wild and strung out look in his eyes—a far cry from the friendly face on the billboard ads plastered around town. He cackled out a laugh. “Naughty, naughty! You’re not supposed to be here! But that’s okay! I can fix that. I can fix anything!”

Madelyn resisted the urge to curse or to scream. For a brief moment, she wondered if she felt this terrified when held at gunpoint more than a year prior by a different madman. Doctor Crocker, however, appeared completely unhinged, dangerous and unpredictable. He hadn’t just shot somebody. He had cut them apart and used their blood as paint for the walls.

“Take it easy, doc,” Nick attempted, raising one hand in a calming gesture, all the while keeping his gun aimed towards the doorway. “Let’s talk.”

“I—I didn’t mean to do it! Doctor Crocker is a brilliant surgeon!”

Talking in the third person was never a good sign, she decided, thinking he had to be high on some kind of illicit drug. Mixed with the adrenaline, the doctor was teetering on the edge of outright disaster.

“He never makes mistakes or loses patients! Only happy patients for Doctor Crocker!” he announced, reaching back to grab what turned out to be his own pistol. Now, Madelyn was petrified. And yet, she didn’t scream, resolve getting the best of her.

“You made a mistake, Doctor Crocker,” she tried Nick’s brand of persuasion, even if it made her skin crawl. “Do the right thing. Just think it through. Come with us quietly.”

At first, her words seemed to have an effect, the daze lifting from his eyes as he glanced down at the red stains that covered his clothes and the state of disarray surrounding them. Doctor Crocker flicked his gaze back to Nick and Madelyn, and the panic returned. “Oh god! I killed a man! There’s so much blood! Blood! All over me!”

He was weeping now, loud and hysterically. Hesitantly, Nick stepped closer in a last-ditch effort to resolve the situation. The doctor lashed out, pushing him away. Madelyn’s heart skipped a beat, and she thought she would be reliving the past all over again. “No! No one can find out!”

But Doctor Crocker didn’t aim towards them. Instead, he turned the gun on himself, barrel pressed firm against his chest before firing. The action took less than a second, faster than Nick or Madelyn could react or intervene. His body collapsed in the bathroom doorway, clearly dead on impact.

“You should’ve seen that,” Nick hushed, his faded coat coming into view as he tucked her head close into his shoulder. She didn’t even realize she was trembling. “You shouldn’t have seen any of that.”

A voice, somewhere in the back of her head told her it was just the beginning. She would become tempered, experienced. Most of all, she would heal. But first, she would see so much more.  

Just like that, the Earl Sterling case was closed.

The Boston Police weren’t pleased with them, but then again, they never were. It wasn’t until past midnight when they were released from the scene, not without a scolding from Sergeant Danny Sullivan. It didn’t matter that they had tracked down Earl Sterling when Boston Police wouldn’t (or couldn’t) and had managed to hunt down a killer in the process. As the police saw it, because any blood was shed, it looked indecent on their behalf, and it all had to be handled very carefully. Nick and Madelyn feared that was codeword for coverup. But they weren’t threatened, or told to keep quiet, which further fed into the detective’s either hypothesis—that Winter had nothing to do with Earl’s death. What had started as a run of the mill case had left them with more questions than answers.

Madelyn and Nick were exhausted by the time they returned to the agency. Ellie had left her little glass lamp turned on, just as she promised, but the brunette was long gone. Instead, a different, familiar voice called to them from Valentine’s office.

“Rough night?”

Piper winced as soon as she saw them come through the door, clenching her teeth in a sharp hiss. It was likely obvious how ragged they appeared, and Madelyn was sure some of their clothes were splattered with blood from Earl’s apartment. Nick pulled off his coat with a groan, tossing his hat across his desk as he snatched up the fresh pack of cigarettes Ellie had left behind. Madelyn didn’t bother, practically collapsing into her favored armchair on the left and slinking down, no matter how undignified her posture appeared.

“That bad?” Piper asked.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Nick responded, puffing out smoke before taking in another deep inhale.

The reporter tapped the rolled-up newspaper she carried against her palm, shifting her gaze between the two of them. “Well, since we’re already swimming in it,” she half-heartedly joked before unfurling the newsprint, dumping it atop Nick’s desk so he could see. “Johnny Montrano Jr. is dead. They found his body in the Harbor this morning while you two were running around.”

Fury seemed to be fueling Nick now, who was already starting on his second cigarette. Madelyn perked up at the news, realizing what his reaction would be. “The bastard’s finally done it. He’s finally had him offed. Fed to the fishes.”

“Fishes didn’t really get to do their job though,” Piper mused, rolling her eyes when the two remained silent, too focused.

Madelyn looked to Nick. “He’s looking to take over the northern territories.”

“If he hasn’t already,” Nick replied in an ominous tone. “Nobody is safe anymore.”

Eddie Winter had just made his first deadly move.

#fallout 4 #fallout au #deacon x f!solesurvivor #madelyn hardy #fanfic #nick valentine #john hancock #robert joseph maccready #noir au #please look at the warning tag at the start y'all for this is exactly what it says on the tin this chapter #more brooklyn gifs feat mads and nick! #this was so fun to write and expand on nick and mads' banter friendship #also writing hancock and mac like I've never done before #oh and if you squint real hard deacon is here...somewhere #he's been there all along! #but will be making his grand appearance next week!

[mzashleypie]

Sorry to Paint You in a Bad Light

In Sorry to Bother You, both color and shot distance are used by the director to convey the power dynamics within a given scene and push forward the meta-narrative. The colors that are displayed often present the internal feelings of a character earlier than in the scene where they are vocalized or acted upon. Characters are often lit in or are surrounded by blue when they are in a position of inferiority or lack confidence in themselves. When characters are lit in or surrounded by yellow, it portrays either the confidence or high position, whether that be class or authority, within the featured group. Green is also used to show these powers clashing and can even foreshadow this tension in future scenes.

From the moment the movie starts, we are immediately shown the distribution of power at Regal View. Before anyone even speaks, we see that Cash is boxed in with Mr. Anderson in his yellow office while all the workers outside in blue are boxed into cubes and boxed into their computers to make a sale. We know that Cash does not hold the power and can follow that pattern until he starts using his white voice to make sales.

After the team meeting at Regal View, Cash tries to get coffee while Squeeze drinks his off to the side. This shot starts in long with other people passing by with food and coffee and zooms into a medium long shot to show that in that moment they are separate from the other workers and managers for the moment and are able to speak privately. The walls are blue all around and they are boxed in, cut off right above the knees. They then move towards the center after a cut and are framed by the vending machines in a two shot that has them both in medium close and holds this distance for the rest of the scene. Their power is balanced in this scene as Squeeze discusses protesting, holding coffee in his hand, knowing Cash is hungry both for food and more out of his life. Squeeze has seen Cash quickly rise and still question authority and believes having Cash on the side of protest could make a huge difference. While Squeeze may think Cash could help the cause and Cash may think the protest could help him, they are both still surrounded by blue, showing that they are just workers who are at the will of their bosses. The choice of a two-shot also allows both Cash and Squeeze to fill up the frame and shows how they both have the power to push the conversation and push the protest. Squeeze’s confidence and ability to organize and Cash’s ability to sell make them equals in this scene. There is then a dissolve to Troi at her corner spinning her sign under golden light happily, cutting between long and extreme long shots. Her work environment is open as opposed to the previous shot where Cash and Squeeze were boxed in and the full body shot accentuates that. This scene shows the contrast between her job and Cash’s. Troi is happy at her job because she is not just a part of the machine and has her art on the side and actively protests, unlike Cash who only has his job to make him feel fulfilled.

When Cash becomes a Power Caller he expresses it in his life by using his newfound wealth. He immediately pays back his uncle, presenting the family in a medium long shot that gives the viewer full scope of the room. This room is covered in yellow and gold, most importantly, yellow and gold crosses. This shows that his action is a selfless good deed and that goodness and spirituality hold the most power within this space on the screen. The camera then pans right, following Cash into the next shot with his old car in a medium long shot, Cash in a medium close, and then a cut to a close-up of the bottom of his new car. The car has very prominent blue lights on the bottom that directly contrast the last scene with a selfish act of lesser good. After the car back up, there is a cut to Troi in a medium long shot backlit by green and yellow and Cash’s car pulls up in blue. Then there is a cut and Troi is cut by the car into a medium shot as she walks up to the door, moving between green and yellow lights. This shows how Troi stands in opposition to what Cash currently stands for, but that she is trying to keep their work separate instead of fight. The mere presence of green light on the storefront, however, shows that Cash and Troi’s conflicting powers and viewpoints will clash and foreshadow the conflict in the following scene in Cash’s new apartment. Cash’s new items show that while he may have a higher paying job and new lifestyle, it is still dependent on his obedience to his employer. Troi may just be spinning signs, but she would never let anyone have any true power over her.

When Cash is at Steve Lift’s house, he walks into the room where Steve is from the foyer in a medium long shot and shows him glancing into a side room. It cuts to the room lit in green with a graffitied Worry Free sign in a long shot that says “freedom!” This shows the irony of Cash’s situation, earning money that makes his life easier while doing a job that restricts his decision making to obeying commands and how this will propagate in the following scene. When Cash is being forced to rap, he is bathed in green light in a close-up on the stairs and it then cuts to the rest of the partygoers in medium shots in yellow. This shows Cash’s internal conflict in that moment to either hold his ground and take the power from the crowd and Steve or if he will give in to their expectations. Cash does neither by doing both. Cash does give in by rapping for them, but repeats the same line in an aggressive tone, satisfying them while not backing down. Steve sees how easily Cash was able to sway the audience in this moment and Cash wins the momentary battle for power. Then there is a cut to a close-up of drunk Cash in his chair that zooms out into an extreme long shot of the partygoers having sex. Cash is lit in yellow in his room while the others are in almost complete darkness, showing how powerful Cash should feel from being accepted and by his job, he just feels defeated. This also shows how his performance convinced Steve of his abilities to convince the equesapians that he is on their side even if Cash is unsure of himself and his skills. Steve Lift is only presented in yellow and green light, and shows the conflict of his own power as being the leader of Worry Free, but completely relying on his inferiors to support him, having to ask Cash to assure his and the company’s success by being their man on the inside.

Throughout the first two acts of Sorry to Bother You, Cash is only ever personally lit in blue. Additionally, he is only either surrounded by the power of others (in his boss’s office, when they are explaining what the Power Callers sell) in yellow or by his fellow workers in blue. It is not until he is confronted by Steve and has video of the equesapiens that Cash feels that he truly has the power and responsibility to out Worry Free and that is when the focus on color and lighting disappear. In this third act, the film takes on the appearance of realism, many more scenes taking place in natural light or yellow light (as is true with the final protest and when Cash is rescued from the police van) and avoids the super saturated colors seen earlier.

This kind of emphasis on the technical elements of lighting, set design and shot distance are important to acknowledge because they help the story progress and accentuate the details of the characters and their interactions that you may just brush by otherwise. The colors especially play into the surrealist elements of the film that wouldn’t naturally be in every scene in the real world. They are less overt than the dubbing, animation or costumes but still draw your attention and say, “this is important.”

#sorry to bother you #film #film analysis #film review #lighting #light design #directing #shot distance #ashley robles #mzashleypie