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tachimichishrine · 1 year ago

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"sap"

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tachihara machizou x fem! hirotsu's daughter! reader

warnings: nsfw ; shower sex ; oral (receiving); masturbation (m); cursing ; bondage; fluff to smut ; idk how to write warnings; unedited ill do that later

being a part of the black lizard had its fun, but some days were boring, like today; tachihara slumped his body against the wall as he stole glances at hirotsu, who seemed just as disinterested.

"cigarette?" the old man offered, placing one in his mouth and lighting it while gunshots rang out in the background. some small rival organization - even rival was a generous word - had "forgotten" to pay back the port mafia. one warning was given and they were told to go fuck themselves, so the black lizard battalion was called. apparently, this organization had some kind of powerful ability users as executives, but whoever they were, they didn't show up for the slaughter.

grunts, low level thugs and anyone else got caught in the crossfire. both mafia members watched the wall of suits fire off enough gunshots to fill up the night sky if bullets were stars.

"i still don't get why we gotta be here for this," tachihara grumbled, taking the offer and placing the plume of smoke to his lips. "seems like they just talk a whole lot of shit."

"it's never wrong to be cautious," the senior member retorted. he puckered his lips and made a ring of grey that floated listlessly in the atmosphere alongside the smell of blood. "the boss specifically warned me about a dangerous woman who could wipe out our troops in one shot."

lips curled around the cigarette, sucked on the nicotine and exhaled pure sarcasm. "yeah, well looks like she's a real pain in our asses."

a few moments passed in silence - or rather, with only white noise echoing in the abandoned warehouse, white noise being a steady stream of gunshots. it was music to both their ears - and surely enough, no one showed up. every thug had enough bullet holes in them to make the notion that a single one survived laughable. tachihara pressed his forearm to the wall and pushed himself off, stretching dramatically with a sigh.

before he could complain again about how lame this mission was, the wall exploded.

not so much an "explosion" as a deformation. it was pushed back, and tachihara barely had the time to react before a giant hole was pierced and a woman came out.

"well, fuck," she glanced at the sea of corpses on the ground, then back at tachihara with a playful smirk. "I guess you're the mafia shithead who I was just told I gotta put down. sucks that I got here late though; if you hadn't killed all my subordinates, I might've let you live, pretty boy."

she looked young, too young to be an executive. despite this, she walked with the kind of confidence that got his skin crawling in anticipation. finally, this night gets more interesting.

he pulled his guns out of their holsters and pointed them straight at her face, mimicking her expression. "you're shit out of luck, lady, 'cause I'm gonna-"

"[_____]?"

hirotsu, who had been briefly blown out of the way, came walking back in with a look of shock on his face. the redhead rolled his eyes; he didn't care whether or not the old man knew this lady, he was going to blow her brains out.

only, as his gaze reverted back onto her, she had the same expression as hirotsu did.

in fact, she was blushing, embarrassed like a schoolgirl who'd gotten caught.

"...dad?!"

what the fuck?

tachihara felt his hands lower a little as he took in the situation, and his eyes just kept darting to his superior, then to his enemy. shellshocked isn't the right word, they were looking at each other like neither had a clue what to say.

"shouldn't you be in school?!"

"dad, since when are you in the fucking mafia?!"

"language!"

the woman dropped her gun, groaning with her face in her hands, muttering to herself. "great, this is great. what the hell?! I knew you did shady business, but I didn't think-"

"is this where your university fund money has gone?" the mafioso's face was red too, from what could only be guessed to be anger mixed in with shame and shock.

"no, I'm still in class, I just... hey, don't distract me, old man. why didn't you tell me you were in the port mafia?"

"why didn't you tell me you were a gangster?!"

"because it's none of your business!"

tachihara's presence grew smaller and smaller as he watched the whole debate happen. it was awkward in a manner he couldn't describe, as he felt not only that he was intruding, but that this was definitely not something he should be listening to. he tucked his guns away, mostly out of respect for hirotsu and the fact that he wasn't about to shoot what appeared to be his daughter.

a few moments later they were hugging.

"sorry dad," she muttered as she pulled away from the embrace. "if I had known, I would've told you..."

"it's alright, but you shouldn't keep things like these from me, [_____]."

sighing, the woman chuckled nervously then promised she wouldn't. she crossed her arms and leaned her back against the deformed wall, then took a look around. she seemed to suddenly notice that tachihara was still there.

"well..." she looked at him then giggled a little, likely embarrassed about the whole situation. "I guess I'm not gonna kill you after all, huh?"

he didn't know what to say, because what is there to say? obviously, this conflict couldn't go anywhere further. thankfully, hirotsu intervened. "what will you tell your superiors?"

"no idea. they just called me to ask me to return to base to protect all of these hopeless fuckers-"

"language."

her eyes rolled. "dad, I'm not 5, I can swear. pretty boy here agrees, don't you, red?"

it took tachihara a moment to realize she was talking about him. once again, his mouth opened but his boss was quicker to respond.

"do you throw yourself at all men like this, [_____]? I thought I raised you better than that."

ignoring his comment with a wave of her hand in the air as though swatting away a fly, she continued. "as I was saying, they just called me. I could technically tell them that I got here too late and the culprits were gone, but I don't think that would bode well with the news that they just lost 90% of their entry-level grunts."

slightly annoyed, the tuffs of grey hair nodded. "you're right, they won't. what's your plan, then?"

a shrug and a pursing of lips. "no clue. you sure I can't just kill red and bring his body to-"

"why don't you just join the port mafia?"

the suggestion came from the one who had barely spoken all night. of course, he didn't think hirotsu would actually let him be used as a scapegoat, but all this banter felt useless. "since your organization is dead in the water anyways. if you just leave, they'll kill you as their final act, but if you join the mafia, you'll have protection."

another shrug. "he's not wrong," she said, "plus, I could just work with you."

hirotsu wanted to protest, but logically, they were both right. despite not wanting his daughter to get involved, he had faith in the mafia like no other member, and was loyal to no ends.

and that's how hirotsu [_____] found herself a member of the black lizard.

her father hated it, of course. the only people who knew they were related was tachihara and gin, the latter picking up on it after a while of noticing them bickering like they had a past.

over time, tachihara got snippets of the story. it seems like at some point, the old man had some sort of relationship with a woman who didn't know he was in the port mafia. time progressed, and they drifted apart. 5 years later, he saw her again with a child's hand in her own.

it was the only time hirotsu had ever requested time off from the mafia.

it was awkward, his former lover telling him that she didn't think he needed to know about it because she wanted to raise the child herself. however, that's not the kind of man he was, let alone the kind of man he'd ever been. it started by asking her name, then he wanted to be properly introduced to her. after a few years, he would have coffee with his partially estranged daughter every other month. he often sent money, which was never used out of pride. when [_____] decided to pursue her studies, she found the stash of cash her mother had been hiding and decided she didn't care for pride. apparently, she was jumped when getting home after a long day of lectures, and her use of her ability got people talking. before she knew it, she was being recruited to the underground for enough money to set her for life.

it took several years for her relationship with hirotsu to improve, but there seemed to be some kind of mutual respect between father and daughter.

not in the mafia.

"dad, I'm not going to do something just because you-"

"I'm your superior, [_____], you can't give me attitude like a teenager. and don't call me dad in these settings."

tachihara thought it was funny. she seemed to like innocently getting on her dad's nerves, and she often used him to do it. she'd get bold some nights and flirt with him right in front of the old man's face. tachihara would feel guilty if he didn't think it was fucking hilarious.

on this particular evening, she didn't seem to have anything better to do than pester him and do her absolute best to get on his nerves.

"so you're saying you've never seen him drunk? not even once?" she giggled, sitting on the table as he tried to write his report for their last mission. her feet were swinging and the table would shake with every swing of her legs, and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.

"no, look, can you just shut the fuck up for a second so I can write this?" he nearly snapped the pencil in half. her smirk only grew at the sight of him being frustrated. "do you really have nothing better to do with your time?"

"nahh." her chest vibrated with a playful chuckle. she tilted her head at him, then slammed her hand onto the pile of papers he was trying to fill in. "this is lame, paperwork isn't for our kind. c'mon, don't tell me this isn't boring you out of your mind, red. let's go do something else."

one fleeting thought of 'fuck it', and suddenly they were at a bar, downing shots like they were on a mission.

"I bet... you couldn't handle 3 more," she slurred, liquid swirling around dangerously close to the rim of the glass, threatening to spill over. somehow, her shit eating grin was unaffected by the liquor; if anything, she'd gotten worse. her fingers would settle on his thighs grip too tight and too far up, the tips of her shoes would play footsie with him, and she straight-up tried to kiss him a few times. she couldn't handle her drinks very well, and he had only now realized what a stupid decision it was to take her up on her offer.

"that's enough for the whole month, [_____]," he rolled his eyes with his signature scoff, and grabbed her wrist to push it away from where she was teasing at. "you need to go home."

"are you finally gonna take me home, pretty boy?" she tried to lean in again, and he scooted backwards. flirting with his boss' daughter for fun was one thing, but something about her demeanor tonight seemed serious. he just hoped she was too drunk to remember the blush dusting his cheekbones.

"I am going to call you a cab." he enunciated every word clearly so she understood it, but as soon as his hand reached into his pocket, she placed hers on top to stop him.

the look in her eyes looked completely sober.

"I'm serious," she whispered, and he could practically feel her gaze on his lips. her eyes darted back up to his own, but before she could say something else that would confuse him further, she seemed to realize her words and her entire face flushed a deeper colour.

she stammered something incomprehensible, threw way too much cash onto the table and walked (if you can call it that) outside. tachihara didn't know what to do, so he just watched her go. she'll probably be fine. probably.

he didn't know why his face felt so hot and his cheeks hurt from a subtle smile.

weeks later, and they'd made a tradition of skipping out on reports to go do something, anything except what they were supposed to do. walking along abandoned streets at night in hopes of picking up a fight, or going to a bar and picking someone for the other to take in a fistfight. a lot of it involved fighting. all of it, really. they'd show up to work the next day littered in matching bruises, and hirotsu's face would glow red and he'd have to excuse himself. giggling like children who knew exactly what they were doing.

tonight, tachihara got knocked out by a man twice his size, and it took her using her ability to get him to back off her partner in crime. she dragged him to her apartment to put some ice on it.

"that was really funny," she teased, tossing him a bag of assorted frozen items to place on his temple, which took the brunt of it. "I though you were really a goner for a second, there."

"ha, ha." the sarcasm was dry, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the thrill of seeing his life flash before his eyes. "I would've liked to see you try."

"an ambulance had to pick up the guy after I was done with him," she retorted, sitting on the sofa next to him with her feet up on the armrest. "actually, I've been meaning to ask you something."

a sigh in response. he took off the frozen bag from his skin and set it on the table, then looked at her. she winced.

"that's gonna need stitches, tachi," she remarked, then thought for a little bit. "I have glue somewhere, we can use that for now then have the port mafia medic fix it tomorrow, yeah?"

she didn't wait for a response, disappeared and reappeared after a string of curses thrown at herself for not being organized enough to know where she puts things. she had what was possibly medical glue but also possibly craft glue in her hands, and she glared at him. "lay down, dr. [_____] is here to save the day."

he quirked up a brow, then quickly relaxed his face after realizing the pain that was brought on by doing that. "weren't you drunk earlier tonight?"

"greatness knows not the bounds of liquor."

"what the fuck does that mean?"

she only giggled, then sat next to his head as she pinched together the skin and tried to apply the glue. her hands were shaking and it was clear she had no idea what she was doing, but tachihara prayed she was doing more good than harm. although, who knows.

"ow, ow, take it fucking easy," he grit his teeth together as she manhandled his injury. he could've sworn he saw her grinning at his pain.

"calm down princess, I'm done," she raised her hands in a sign of innocence, then took a closer look at her work.

tachihara watched in slow motion as her gaze moved further and further up his face.

"is... is your hair dyed?"

the room went dead silent. he had no idea what to respond, and for the first time since he joined the mafia, he felt stupid for letting his guard down. how did he forget to retouch his roots and then let someone get so close? how-

"you'd look really cute with black hair."

...what?

"that's your natural hair colour, right?" she kept going, raking her fingertips through his hair. "man, I feel lied to, I called you red for so long. why'd you dye it?"

"because I fuckin' felt like it," he grumbled out, having no other response. he felt such relief when she just giggled to his answer.

"fair enough. red was definitely the right colour, though. you'd look like shit if you went blonde."

he was so glad she let it go. he tried to sit upright, his head still throbbing from the pain, but she just looked at him curiously.

"I'll get you another mystery frozen item from the freezer," she laughed, getting up and rummaging through her kitchen. even with her face in the door of the fridge, she spoke, "I still haven't asked you my question from before, by the way. I just wanted to know how you got into the mafia."

out of one tight situation and into another.

he considered it; he considered it long and hard, way before she'd ever even asked the question. most of the time, if anyone asks, he'd just say it was none of their business. but he couldn't get away with that kind of response with her.

so, he told the truth.

"my... my brother joined the army during the great war. I just... I hated being compared to him by my family, so I wanted to get as far away as possible from his path, and ended up at the mafia. nothing much to it."

at least, part of the truth.

she pulled her face out of the fridge, looking at his expression for a moment. she tossed him another frozen bag and quickly sat back at his side.

"that sucks. was dying your hair also part of your rebellious phase?"

his nostrils flared at her teasing and he rolled his eyes, barely holding back a grin. "shut up."

laughing, she moved her body closer to his and put a hand on his delicately. "seriously, though, sorry to hear that your family didn't treat you right. I mean... I don't have that with my parents, but I know that it's tough being compared with someone else. but I don't know how that would apply to you. you're literally who I wanted to grow up to be."

he put down the ice pack because clearly it was affecting his hearing.

"like... I dunno. you're a badass who doesn't take shit from anybody. I mean, sure, you get your ass handed to you in bar fights and you don't have an ability, but so what? dad respects you, and so do I. not really sure how your brother compares to that."

this time, there wasn't anything to hide the stupid expression on his face. he just looked at her blankly like he'd never received a compliment in his life, which made her laugh even more.

"man, you really do have self-esteem issues, dontcha? if I had known you couldn't handle compliments, I would've said this ages ago. anyways," she got up, again, and stretched out her back, "don't worry about it, let's pretend that conversation ended there. so, are we dying your hair at your place or mine? because I don't have any dye and the store closes soon if we're gonna go buy some."

his mind could barely keep up with the way she was jumping from topic to topic. in the end, he just pushed his confession and her response to the back of his mind, and got up as well with a shrug. "my place, then. but you don't need to-"

"nonsense! I've been wanting to try to dye someone else's hair forever. plus, you're my partner in crime, I can't let anyone see that you're a big fat liar of a redhead."

her laugh felt so comforting to him. he felt like he was floating out of her apartment, out onto the street and all the way back to his own. his mind was just a blur (maybe it was from a concussion from the blow?) and in no time, he found himself sitting down with his head in between her thighs, gloved fingers massaging his scalp.

"okay, so the instructions say to rinse off and you're good!" she beamed, looking at her work proudly. "no need to thank me, by the way. despite my professional work, this one's on the house."

he chuckled, getting up and being careful not to get anything to touch the stained hair. "fine, then I won't thank you. I could've done this myself too, but you insisted, so if anything I should be charging you money."

shaking her head aggressively, she placed a finger on his lips while attempting to look solemn. "in that case, let us never speak of this again."

a few more minutes, and he was in the shower, the excess red streaming down from the water and making a puddle at his feet. she kept talking to him, loudly, from the other side of the door.

"how's it going so far?"

"it's almost all out, just be patient, damn," he laughed back, the final bits of red coming out of his hair until all the water that went through his hair came out clear. he turned off the faucet, and the stream stopped. he had barely dried his hair and wrapped a towel around his hips before he saw the door open.

"[_____], what the fuck-"

"sh, I want to see how it came out," she strolled right up to him and grabbed his face with one hand, tilting it in different directions to see all angles of his wet hair. as if he wasn't nearly naked right now. as if this was perfectly normal. "it looks good, but it's still wet so the colour doesn't show fully yet, right?"

he grabbed her hand and pulled it off of his face, looking at her seriously. "[_____], don't play dumb, you-"

"... saw an opportunity to see you shirtless, and I took it," she shot him a grin. then she suddenly seemed to get a little sad as she shook her head. "sorry, that isn't funny. um... I'll wait outside."

he watched her walk out just as quickly as she walked in. he slipped on his clothes quickly, then walked out to go find her standing at the entrance, putting on her shoes. ready to leave.

"hey, what are you..."

she cut him off, not even maintaining eye contact as she slipped her heel downwards and tied up the shoelaces. "look, tachi, I'm sorry. I just get excited sometimes and forget you don't feel the same way."

"what the fuck do you mean, don't feel the same way?"

now, her gaze met his. she looked confused. "I told you, weeks ago, that I was serious about the flirting. I even tried to kiss you, and kept dodging, so I got the message. it's fine, I get it. boss' daughter, or maybe I'm just not your type or whatever, but it's okay. I don't mind, I'm getting over it."

"holy fuck, [_____], you were drunk when you said that and I thought you were..."

he couldn't finish his thought. it was hard not to notice the hope in her eyes as she seemed to realize that he hadn't actually said no yet.

so, he said yes.

she kicked off her shoes hastily as his hands went to her waist and he pushed her back against the wall, lips eagerly devouring hers. her head slammed backwards, but her hips were pushed forwards to meet his own. her hands on his chest; one of his on her waist while the other secured itself at the base of her neck, pulling her in closer.

it was hot sweaty and fast, and they ended up back in the shower. he didn't expect her hands to roam the way they did, but she'd managed to have his entire chest coated in her touch before they even made it inside.

she murmured his name into his lips, and he responded by biting her lower lip harder. her fingertips were now on his back, his tight frame feeling warm and so right as it grinded on hers. her thigh went up to his side, and tachihara realized just how much she wanted him. fuck. he couldn't believe he waited so long for this for no reason.

he dropped down to his knees. as soon as she saw him look up, her thighs clenched together and he could feel them shaking in anticipation. he threw one leg over his shoulder and his breath barely hit her pussy before he was eating her out like a man starved.

and she was so damn loud. every flick of his tongue on her clit, every time he sucked on her lips, every thrust of his fingers inside of her, she seemed to get more vocal. at first, it was just curses, mumbling fuck like it was the only word left in her vocabulary. then his name. he'd never heard her say it like that before; she'd called him tachi sometimes, but never michizou. just the sound had him dragging his free hand from her ass down to his erection, palming himself as she kept moaning out for him. it was worse when she'd roll out the praises. fuck you feel so good... michizou, hngg... fuck keep doing it like that, you're so perfect... and she'd gasp as he sucked on her needy pussy and tell him how perfect he felt inside of her all over again.

he couldn't even handle getting her to climax before he lost control. his face was still buried between her legs, but he couldn't concentrate on the way her hips would grind on his face anymore. he needed relief and he needed it fast. she glanced down to find him pounding himself, and her hand at the back of his head gripped down on his hair and yanked him upwards. back on his feet, she brought his lips back to her own before briefly pulling away, spitting in her hand and taking his cock in it.

his forehead was pressed up against hers, but he was having trouble maintaining the kiss through broken moans and grunts. he'd try to bite his lower lip to muffle a whimper, but every time he did, she would just pump him harder until it was impossible to muffle the sounds he was making. every scream from his lips drove her pace to the next gear until he was coming undone under the soft drizzle of hot water droplets, washing down his cum from her stomach.

she took it slower, gentler as he felt so fucking raw from falling apart so fast under her touch. she let go of him and placed his cock between her thighs and pressed them together, letting him rock his hips and fuck them as she kisses him again. her lips get rougher, as she goes from peppering his jawline with love to nibbling on his earlobe to piercing his skin and leaving marks on his neck that won't go away anytime soon. he arcs his neck backwards, tilting his chin upwards to give her better access as she gets greedier and greedier, taste of his flesh intoxicating her.

"michizou..." she sighed into his skin, then brought his face back up to her level, one hand in his hair and the other positioned on his abdomen as her thighs are glistening from the hot water vapor of the shower, her arousal trickling down and the pre-cum already leaking out his tip. "fuck, michizou, your body... you're so gorgeous, I just want to wreck you until you forget your own fucking name." her words weren't particularly sultry or pretty, but the way she was murmuring it into another kiss got him hard all over again.

"baby, can we... bedroom..." the ask barely left her lips before his hands went onto her hips, lifting her up a little bit as they stumbled out of the shower, barely wiped themselves dry with the towels and connected their mouths again as he pulled her to his room. she backed him inside then pushed his shoulders, his back bouncing on the mattress as he realized this was the first time he was seeing her, fully bare in front of him, in his bedroom. just the sight of her perky tits and curves got saliva pooling under his tongue and eyes scanning her hungrily.

she turned her head around, looking in his room for a few moments before opening drawers and boxes like she was in a hurry to locate something. he shot her a look.

"[_____], what are you..."

she pulled out two belts from a drawer with a grin on her lips.

fuck.

she murmured something about not needing to do this if he didn't want to as she climbed on top of him and kissed him gently, but he just rutted his hips upwards in a desperate motion to show her just how much he wanted her.

in one motion, his wrists were tied together with the first belt and pinned above his head. in another, he was biting down on worn leather and a makeshift gag was soaking up all the drool he couldn't control. that was the point: he couldn't control anything. and it felt so fucking amazing.

she kept stealing glances at him as she checked to make sure he was still on board, and when he gave her a slow nod, she flipped him onto his stomach and secured his hips under her own, legs spread out over his ass.

with only her hips, she pushed him downwards so that his dick pushed up against the sheets and the mattress. she knew it wasn't enough to do anything but edge him until he went mad, and no matter how much the bed was shaking and the frame was creaking, it wouldn't be as good as what he felt fucking her thighs. but the view was so damn pretty: his face drowning messily in the sheets, mouth gagged and wrists tied together. she grabbed a handful of his wet hair and yanked him back as she grinded slowly on his ass, dripping lustfully onto him.

it was fun edging him, but the muffled whimpers signaled he was desperate. giving into his desires, she plunged her hand between his parted legs and gripped onto his cock which was humping the mattress. she just held him with a hard grip, and he did all the work for himself, thrusting his hips as well as he could while pinned down by her weight and restrained. tears were prickling at the corners of his eyes. he wanted to tell her how badly he needed her, but the damn gag was turning his pleas into muffled whimpers and moans.

she finally let him out from under her body and flipped him onto his back, but not before stealing in a smack on his ass, which was now coated in her pussy's tears.

"want me to fuck you, baby?" she murmured with a smirk, leaning down to let her lips brush up against the shell of his ear. "is that what you wanna say?"

he nodded hastily, no more shame as now the only thing he could feel was the need for her tight pussy around him. she loosened the gag, then slid it off of his mouth in order to kiss him again. "I wanna hear you. I wanna hear your pretty voice telling me how good I'm fucking your cock, yeah? can you do that for me, michi?"

he couldn't even respond as she lowered herself onto him and dragged a long moan from deep within his lungs, which were on fire. he could barely breathe, he could barely think. all he could do was what she told him and jut his hips upwards to hit her as deep as possible. all the control she had and she couldn't help but curl her toes and dig her fingernails into his shoulders as he screamed out her name and groaned with every thrust. his eyes squeezed shut as he let the feeling wash over him, but they didn't stay that way for long as they locked onto her tits, which were bouncing up and down with her on him, not to mention her face was hot and her hair was still wet from the shower.

it was too much, too fast, despite the slow build up she forced him to endure, suddenly he found himself choking as he tried to tell her that he was close. she was first; walls collapsed around him and she exhaled a thready verse of his name. she finally let him pull out at the last minute, and he came all over himself, stomach coated in the warm sticky liquid. her chest rose and fell with every heavy breath as she watched him, then unfastened the restraints around his wrists.

he wiped his stomach clean with one of the sheets and tossed it somewhere in the corner, a problem for tomorrow, then slipped under the rest of them.

she shot him a hesitant look. "do you want... can I stay?"

he grabbed her wrist and pulled her body onto his, then pressed a lazy kiss on her forehead. "always."

"sap," she teased, snuggling into his warmth and wrapping her arms around his waist. "my dad is gonna go fucking feral when he hears about this."

a gentle chuckle. "isn't that what you've been tryin' to do ever since day 1?"

"shut up, sap," she grumbled into his chest, eyes fluttering shut as she remembers his hair then fluffs it. she craned her neck upwards to get a better look, and smiled softly. "the dye turned out well."

"next time, I'll let the colour grow out," he whispered, dreamy amber eyes looking at her through low eyelids, "since you said it would look cute."

"sap!" she cried out again dramatically, then kissed him slowly again before looking at his face again. "I really did mean it, by the way. when I said that you're perfect to me."

he blushed; somehow, that was what brought the most colour to his face all night. still, he was without a response. he just slid his fingers up her back and pulled her closer. he buried his nose in the top of her head before he thought of a response. "sap."

"shut up."

they giggled and fell asleep in a world where everything was right.

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slashingdisneypasta · 9 months ago

Text

Chucky Lee Ray x Reader || Drabble

Plot: When you come home from a really terrible date who definitely expects to be invited in, you do something Kinda Sneaky... and say you live with your brother and, oops! You forgot your key!!- and knock on the apartment next to yours, acting like this one is yours. Chucky's apartment.

Warnings: N/A.

Knock knock. No answer.

Knock knock knock. No answer.

Humming nervously, because why the hell why isn't he answering?? Please be home, Chucky, p l e a s e- "He must have his headphones on, the dumbass." You throw back to your date, Hank, rolling your eyes like 'brothers, huh?'.

"Hey, if you cant get it, you can always come back to my place?"

"Oh thats nice of you- " Knockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknock-

"Bro!" You exclaim in a loud, totally-fake greeting as soon as the door flies open and reveals Charles Lee Ray, looking as if you just woke him up, his hair in his dark eyes and a beer-stained, moth-eaten white t-shirt on that completely washes him out and makes him look like Samara Morgan (Sweet jesus, if you weren't so desperate to get away from Hank, you would be terrified of this nightmare look). His face twists into grumpy, tired confusion but before he can ask you what the hell you're talking about- you slip your arms around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. "Play along." Dear god, play along.

When you pull back, a hostage-smile pasted to your face standing there with Hank behind you looking bored and annoyed (And wearing a stained t-shirt of his own- under a date blazer), the cranky frown on his face upturns into a smirk. Oh~

You hope to god thats a good smirk and your annoying neighbour is not about to screw you.

Its not like Hank is dangerous, or t h r e a t e n i n g, at all- no. He's fine. But after 4 hours of talking about his fucking car, and The Big Bang Theory (How funny Howard Walowitz is in the first seasons and how misunderstood he is with women- jesus), and meeting his mother at the start-- you are DONE!!

DONE!! FINISHED!

You're up to hear with him and Chucky, as annoying and rude as he is, suddenly feels like a great alternative! At least if you went out with him tonight, you might've gotten a good buzz out of it. Hank took you to a Chuck E Cheese, and he didn't bring a flask.

When Chucky leans against the door and makes room for you to slip by, smirking dangerously at your date, you happily go into his apartment. You never wanted to get in there so bad, before. You never wanted to go in there, period, before today. But now it feels like sanctuary. "So... you're the guy that took out Y/N tonight."

Oh no- he's still talking. Why on earth is Chucky still talking-

"-Yeah thats him!" You cut in, before flashing Hank a bright smile and a waive. "I had a great time- bye Hank!" Please go. Please go. Please go now-

Before your date can leave and you can never see him again, Chucky stops him- and when you glance at his face, you can see an even broader, more mischievous smirk on him. Oh no. "Hold on there, man, wait. I gotta make sure you're alright, don't I??"

"No, bro, you don't." You say pointedly, making Chucky turn that nefarious, lascivious grin onto you for a moment.

"Hehe... I think I do."

Through grit teeth, you beseech him. "Fight the urge." Or, well- beg him. You're begging. You're absolutely begging.

Because wherever Chucky is going to take this, is not going to be good, especially with that evil twinkle in his pale blue eyes. "What kinda brother would I be if I didn't check him?"

"The best brother in the world."

"Ahhhhh... you're just sayin' that. Hey Hank- " When you both turn back to the hallway and see that Hank is, actually, gone-- you're equally baffled and relieved. Thank god, but... when did he leave??? Chucky, on the other hand, pouts. "Damn. ... Maybe he wasn't that into you."

While rolling your eyes, you catch sight of a black object plainly sticking out of Chucky's pyjama pants. "Or maybe he saw the gun tucked into your pants! Is that loaded!??"

"... no."

"No!??" That did not sound definitive!!

"Well yeah, of course it is. But here's the thing, doll. Guess what?" You're about to ask a put-out and huffy 'what?', when Chucky pulls the door to his apartment abruptly closed; standing far too close to you and looking at you in that lecherous Chucky-way that makes you feel so small and squirrelly. Wait- "Look at that?~ You're all mine, all of a sudden~ Hehe,"

As you stand there, half scared/half... something else, you wonder dumbly how and when did you lose control of this situation-

#Charles Lee Ray x Reader Drabble #Chucky x Reader Drabble #Charles Lee Ray x Reader #Chucky #Charles Lee Ray #Drabble #Horror Villains #Horror Villain x Reader Drabble #Horror Villain x Reader #Slasher x Reader Drabble #Slasher x Reader #Slashers

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mortuarywriting · 7 months ago

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Okay. So.

This post, right? I had this vivid bit come to me based on the deli comment + Pic combo. I do not plan on writing more. Free to a good home someone else take this I would NOT have any idea where to go with it oc or insert live your best life

You didn't usually come by this way, and frankly if there hadn't been closures for some infrastructure work you still wouldn't. The extra 10 minutes this unforseen detour was causing meant your entire schedule was thrown off balance. It was only by happenstance that plans got moved an hour back while you were already on the way. Normally you'd be more upset that shit got shifted while you were already on the way but you figured a solid "fuck it" was warranted and you should get yourself something to eat really quick.

You figured a new route would mean new restaurants, and had you decided this anywhere along your usual route or even before your turn down this detour? You'd be so right. You knew there were tons of little places you made notes to go back and try the ever nebulous sometime.

This would be an awesome sometime if it didn't mean trying to turn around and backtrack and the way the construction area had been? That was not appealing.

This road had a surprising lack of food options, and between the idea of gas station snacks or a little corner deli? You were gonna pick the deli first. Why not, good to try new things after all.

Only as soon as you walk in you see the guy behind the counter. Well, more leaning between the counter and the front, he's obviously tied enough to the place that he's talking to the only other customer in there, but someone else is actually making the sandwich while he chats with the guy waiting.

You were ready with a polite smile as you looked at the menu but something about the guy made you do a second glance and-

You knew of that neck tattoo. The long sleeves and pants he wore covering the rest of his skin suddenly felt a lot less sensible for the weather and a lot more like brush hiding something dangerous. That hammer might as well have been a sign saying 'this is not a place of honor', it was a warning and a potential threat all in one and you were not gonna ignore that.

You'd normally just turn on your heel and slide out, quiet and unnoticed, except he had noticed you.

"Welcome," and if that didn't feel like a bold faced lie to you but you keep a pleasant smile even as the fuckoff huge other customer, also very large, also very white and also very covered up- face mask, beanie, sunglasses in hand and hints of tattoos peeking from his sleeves- turns to look at you as well.

You try so hard to keep your polite smile and distinctly not make eye contact as you look over the menu. Your appetite is so far gone you don't know if you're gonna eat for the rest of the day, you weigh the odds between being able to just make your escape versus buying a drink and mentally trying to figure out if you had enough loose change to get a water bottle because you did not want these people to theoretically have your name. Not with that dogwhistle on his fuckin neck you didn't.

But you've never been so glad for your friends serial texting, your phone chiming four times in rapid succession in your pocket.

You fish it out and, well, damn, if that isn't one hell of a meme. You let your brow furrow, "oh son of a-" you look up and offer an apologetic smile, "so sorry, have a good one," and you beat feet and make a hasty retreat.

You dial that friend in question as you make your way out, "hey, yeah, I know you just texted me but I need to be on the phone really quick? Yeah uh," you do a bit of a look around and behind you, making sure your coast is fairly clear before you lower your voice and continue, "might've. Just accidentally walked into a white supremacist place?"

"HOW DO YOU ACCIDENTALLY-"

"It's not like they hung a swastika on the window," your tone creeps back up with exasperation, "the guy- manager or owner I dunno- he had the fuckin- the hammer on his throat! And he was too covered for me to check for iron crosses and with his only other customer being another giant white guy I wasn't playing the odds! Anyway, whatever, I'm almost there just. Hang out with me on the phone. Where the hell did you find that meme?"

--------

Look I'd cut back to where it goes back to the guys bantering here but like. I'm running out of steam and Price doesn't cooperate with my writing at the best of times.

Just know Simon absolutely makes the joke that pretty birds leaving is what happens when you let Roaches around your food. Roach just flips him the bird.

Gaz was absolutely walking down the street and heard some of that phone call. Absolutely finds it hilarious.

Anyway please if you want this take it free to a good home I do not need this freeloader

#rambles from the morgue #Okay we're done here #Sorry this is just getting chucked into the void

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bonnieisaway · 1 year ago

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WHICH ONE OF YOU WAS IT THAT - I KNOW IT WAS ONE OF MY MUTUALS - WE HAD A REALLY LONG CONVERSATION ABOUT HOW SEVEN ALWAYS WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE KILL IN THE PAST, AND WE GOT ON THE TOPIC OF THE GIRL IN WHITE AND YOU SAID THAT YOU THOUGHT SHE DIDN'T MEAN FOR SEVEN TO DIE BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T GO THROUGH THE HEART NOTICBLY MORE THROUGH HIS CHEST/STOMACH AND I SAID I WASN'T SURE IF WE COULD REALLY GO OFF OF THAT BECAUSE WE HADN'T KNOWN MUCH OF HER CHARACTER NOR WHY SHE DID IT BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE WE NEED TO SIT DOWN AND REDISCUSS THIS BECAUSE SEASON FOUR SPOILER THING UNDER CUT

I WENT FUCKING FERAL WHEN THIS WAS SAID because like obviously the question is when the hell did that poison get put in him because I feel like , Seven wouldn't have taken it himself? Like he wanted to move on and he was willing to fight all of Xuanwu for the girl in white but I think he would've known he had to do that face on and that poison would only, inevitably, put them in more danger?

And I can't think of another shadow killer or the leader that would want this- EVERYONE wanted him dead, Green Phoenix presumably didn't care because evidently the shadow killers DIDN'T go after him last time or were afraid to, otherwise he would've used his plan earlier, the leader NEVER gets off his ass, and there would've been no point erasing his memories if he was wanted dead.

I feel like the logical conclusion here - at least I'm assuming between the moment he was stabbed and washed up nobody else saw him, and prior to the fight he hadn't seen anybody else who'd have done this nor discussed it - is that the girl in white had it on her blade, right? Like wasn't she also wanted dead? Seven was protecting her and that's the whole reason he was wanted dead, so killing him would've gotten her killed too and I feel like this shit is waaay too much to pull a sort of long-con to get him killed, but even if she WAS supposed to kill him as some sort of long hidden plan, maybe she might've loved him anyway and CHOSE this form of mercy? Because erasing his memories would effectively 'kill' him? Or was it that they both wanted this to end so badly but she chose the impulsive way out, getting herself killed and a merciful, forgetful end for Seven that had a fighting chance of letting him live on without her?

But also the symbolism when they show it confuses me.

So this eye was a new thing in season four and it ONLY ever really is shown around the leader of the shadow killers, when he's on his being-an-eldritch-horror shit, but my thing is WHAT purpose would he have to do that to Seven? Like yeah, he ordered him dead, but HOW would he even get that done and what reason would he have? Like, it was kind of presumed the leader had gone out on a limb and chosen SPECIFICALLY Seven for some unnamed reason, to a point that even Redtooth was fuckin annoyed about it (probably because to some degree Redtooth envied him but let's pack that away for another day) so I don't know WHY this eye is here

There's also a crow here which I would assume was ALSO for the leader's spybird if it wasn't for Blackbird's whip right next to it? But like, Blackbird doesn't seemingly have an unsettled score with Seven. He wanted him to die, yes, and he said "painfully at my hands," but that's like, how everyone dies to Blackbird. And their entire fight, there was nothing brought up about something in their past or between these two, everything was only about Blackbird's past and his tramua, which almost sounded like he felt like he needed to be this anti-hero killing Seven because of the order and would let Shimen take the reward.

There's also a really faint hand here? I don't know what else to attribute it to other than this hand:

back in season three, which this sequence was VERY much a long allegory about Seven's nature and that he's had a very, very short time to live the life he wanted and that he's basically being fucking dragged through life at this rate, though noticeably the hand here in season four has a red, glowy texture on it (aside from the rest of the texture near it) that's seeming to me either be blood or also another sort of imagery for the poison in him

but also there feels like there's a larger image here, too? It's really hard to make out because I can't really tell if it's just the shading , or a stylistic choice, but the bottom right is noticeably a different shade and has an outline and the inside has a wood-grain like texture? But I think also this might just be a sort of outline - given where it starts on Seven's shoulder - that's supposed to look like a gaseous, poison cloud coming from him. just AAAAAAAH oh my GOD there's so much to think about from this 20 seconds alone kill me

#scissor seven #killer seven #wu liuqi #seven #Also I'll probably repost about it later #but can we talk about how i was DEAD ON about dai bo being afraid of seven leaving and it showed the EXACT screenshot i posted here abt it #GOD that was fucking validating #I have never felt more based the show fr validated me im RIGHT im not just overthinking RAAAHHH A W FOR MEEEE #and also all of us but like i need this for my ego just fuckin give me a moment #season four #spoilers #i think i should tag spoilers? idk its been 9 months but just hit netflic #Back in full swing with the analysis #Analysis trio (that's what my brain has dubbed me james and immortal basically) restored

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raccoonfallsharder · 9 months ago

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rocket raccoon prompt week ✷ day two hurts ✷.⁺⋆˚₊

fluff | no use of yn | gn reader | drabble | word count: 626.

The frickin' Badoon fleet might've lost the battle, but they'd sure as shit beat the hell out of the Guardians while they were doing it. Rocket looks blearily around at the group, counting heads again just to make sure: Pete's got two black eyes and is trying to patch up a scrape on the back of his sister's shoulder that looks like ground-up orloni. Groot's sitting with his head bowed, elbows anchored to knees. He's got the laser burn kit next to him, waiting for Gamora. The Zen-Whoberi in question is currently busy trying to wrestle a medpack onto Drax's broken ribs, but the big idiot is such a frickin' baby that he keeps whining and trying to twist away, only to end up wheezing.

But where's the fuckin' new kid? Where are you?

Rocket's heart clenches up and twists and his bright eyes go wide suddenly, nose up and searching, ears alert. He could've sworn he'd seen you—

"Hey."

He deflates, the brief resurgence of adrenaline enough to make him suddenly want to puke all over the grated floors of the Bowie. "Dammit. Where'd you go?"

You circle around from behind him, a white cloth in your hand. Your voice is frayed and tattered by exhaustion, and you're bruised and scraped as hell, but his eyes stick to every square inch of you that he can see, and it doesn't look like you've got any major injuries.

You toss a tired glance over your shoulder and take in the scene behind you — a misshapen crescent of wounded Guardians. They'll be all right. But the guy in front of you? Him, you’re far less certain about. He's shaking — shuddering — like all his bones and implants are gonna rattle right out of his body. His eyes flick over you again, looking for an injury, looking for the clean scorched hole of a laser pistol shot right through the heart — then they scrape back over his friends, cataloging and re-cataloging every open wound, every minor bruise. His stare returns to you once more, and the cycle repeats. Rocket's got a head wound he probably doesn't even notice — blood black and sticky, clotting in his fur before it ever reaches his eyes. It's the whole reason you'd gone back to the linen locker and the sink in the first place.

You plant yourself between him and his friends, a barricade for his eyes, and he tries to lean around you without thinking about it — trying to keep all of you in his line of vision.

"They’re okay, friend," you say softly. "Don't let them scare you."

His eyes snap to yours, stunned and wide. It's a look you've never seen on his face before: vulnerable, bereft. The bright, glowing red of his gaze had always seemed like a stop light, but now —

You try to ignore it. You're sure he wouldn't want you to notice. Instead, you reach out with the cloth, still warm from the hot water you'd soaked it in, and touch it carefully to the crown of his head. The wet white fabric turns to rust: blood soaking up into the fibers.

Rocket stares up at you like you're a ghost. He knows there’s no way you could possibly know that those words and this gesture are so close to another’s, just the slight tonal shift of a voice echoing off a lifetime’s worth of vast, empty mountain expanse; there’s no way you could know how deeply that moment is carved on his makeshift heart — rising to the surface right now, in this second, with you. "It's okay," you tell him gently, tenderly pressing the soft cloth to his bloodied fur. You hope he knows you're not talking about the head wound. "You're gonna be okay."

not me watching my wordcount trend upward. i am trying to fucken control myself.

anyway i hope you enjoyed, my little daffodils

day one. explosives.✷ day three. emotionalistic. rocket prompt week masterlist ✷ main masterlist rocket raccoon prompt week list

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

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modelbus · 2 years ago

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Hi!

Could you write a x reader for Wilbur, where the reader is dating wilbur but they live long distance? But on Christmas eve the reader shows up to his house to surprise him? Sorry if that dosnet make sense!

It’s most definitely still Christmas time! Woo! (I’m so late)

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur x Gn!Reader

Simple Surprises

You trudge through the snow, trying your best to move quickly but not fall on your ass. Why did Wilbur have to live next to the iciest sidewalk in the whole world? All you wanted to do was surprise your boyfriend, not put your life on the line.

Really, your mistake was not taking the Uber all the way to his flat. But it was Christmas eve, meaning even these roads were packed. You thought it'd be easier if you walked, but apparently not.

The snow was pretty, though. Glistening white, perfectly pristine. It came just in time for a white Christmas.

Carefully triple-checking the address, you finally reach the building Wilbur lives in. Assuming the address isn't wrong, and he didn't move within the last few days. God, why were you so nervous?

Although your relationship with Wilbur was long-distance, you often planned to meet up. When he had asked if you wanted to come over for Christmas with him, you had made some bullshit excuse about not being able to. All so you could turn the tables on him and surprise him.

Now that you're actually here though, you can't help but think this was a bad idea. What if he wasn't even at home? What if he had made different plans for Christmas?

No, you had literally talked to him earlier and he told you he wasn't doing anything. In fact, he planned to watch Captain America at Tommy's request! You told him you were going out with friends to cover your tracks, and he didn't doubt a word.

Marching up to his door, so familiar for something you've only really seen a few times, you hesitate. Not out of anxiety or irrational fear, but excitement. Spending Christmas with Wilbur would be a blast, and you can't wait to see his reaction to you being here.

With that in mind, you knock thrice and wait.

"Hang on!" You hear his voice from somewhere inside, and you smile to yourself.

Something crashes inside, startling you, but the door is flung open to reveal a wide-eyed Wilbur. If you had to wager a guess, he just ran across his flat.

"Sorry, I-" He cuts himself off, gaping at you.

"Nothing to be sorry about. Actually, I think I might've gotten the wrong door?"

"Like hell you did."

He tugs you into him, crashing his lips against yours. You laugh into the kiss, looping your arms around his neck. It's so nice to be here with him, feeling a solid body instead of having to stare at a video call.

"You told me you were busy." Wilbur accuses you once he stops kissing you. He doesn't let you go further than an arm's length though.

"I might've lied, but it was for the greater good. I wanted to surprise you!"

"I'm fucking surprised. I love you. How long are you here for?"

"Just a week." It was the longest you could get away from home, and you're already wishing it was more.

"A week's better than nothing." He assures you, "And I know exactly what to do first!"

"Oh yeah?"

You let him tug you to his couch, reveling in how large his smile is. You've missed this. Hell, you've missed him.

His Tv is paused on a movie, and he doesn't hesitate to pull you down onto the couch with him. Within seconds he's gone full octopus mode, pressing your bodies together to maximize physical contact.

"Cuddling?" You ask, thankful you slipped off your shoes at the door.

You're already melting, muscles relaxing. He's warm, a stark contrast to the winds and snow outside.

"You're here for Christmas, right?" He asks quietly, not yet resuming the movie.

"Of course."

"Good. I almost bought a train ticket to see you, plans be damned."

"Wil!"

"But I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

He keeps staring at you with the same dopey expression on his face, and you stare back for a few seconds before laughing.

"Are you going to resume the movie?" You ask.

"What?"

"The movie."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Just admiring you first."

He presses another kiss to your lips before clicking play.

This is exactly where you're meant to be.

#wilbur x you #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #dsmp #dsmp imagine #mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt wilbur #wilbur mcyt #wilbur dream smp

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lewis-winters · 1 year ago

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here's an excerpt from the Harry Welsh/Kitty Grogan Canon Divergent AU where you have Kitty on the front lines with Harry because I felt like it... and also because I don't think I'll be finishing this this year because of work and... Baldur's Gate 3. Heh.

The thing about Kitty is: she hates beating around the damn bush.

It's a by-product of her mother's mind games, she thinks. Nothing quite like weaponized bluntness to incite the Queen of Pennsylvanian Roman Catholic Passive-Aggressiveness into actually spitting out the god-awful truth for once. It might've earned her a slap or two in her younger years, but the second she learned to dodge and run, then later on sneak back into the house through her little brother’s open window, her mother has been powerless against her.

Of course, she tried other tactics after that. "No good boy's going to want you and that smart mouth of yours."

But Kitty found ways to fight those, too. "Lots of good boys like smart mouths, Mama, on account that they belong to smart girls. Not that you'd know, of course."

Her Mama had scoffed and sputtered at the idea, raising a hand out of habit, faltering badly when all Kitty did was laugh in her face and dance right out of her reach, reveling in her impertinence instead of cowering. A year after that, Wel—Harry, with all his smitten smiles and dopey eyes, had dropped into their lives, and suddenly her Mama didn't have much to say at all. What could she, when Harry was everything she'd told Kitty she'd never have and more? Marisa Grogan never did like being proven wrong.

By the time Kitty enlisted and was on the train to basic, neither mother nor daughter had said a single word of substance to each other for nearly a whole year.

Kitty likes to say that the silence didn't hurt. It'd been used as a weapon enough times for her to get used to it, after all. When she was younger, it came intermingled with hunger, too, on account of being sent to bed with no supper every time she was impertinent. Which was a lot. Kitty had joked at dinner the Christmas she'd gotten lucky enough to score a weekend pass, with the part of the family that still wanted to joke with her, that those childhood punishments had done the bulk of preparing her for the inevitable starvation she'll face out on the front. Her Mother had gone sheet-white upon hearing it. It wasn't a surprise that the joke fell flat with her.

She'd tried to talk to Kitty after dinner that same day, though. And Kitty didn't want to hear a single word out her mouth, and had decided to go back to camp a day early, annoyed as all hell that her mother had given up the game so easily. Not the most rational of responses. Her brother, Andrew, had even gone so far as to point out in a letter that she was acting exactly like their mother. Good, Kitty had written back, infuriated enough by the comparison to lash out at her longest ally in this particular fight. Let her have a taste of her own medicine. She can have her chat if I get back.

If. Needlessly cruel. Just to drive the point home. War and all its brutality had been naught but a distant future, then. She still had it in her to be foolish.

After Normandy, Kitty remembers telling Harry; "I don't think I regret it."

Harry had scoffed at her, something akin to disappointment mixed in with his concern. "We lying to each other, now?"

He doesn't like beating around the bush, either. It's what they most like about each other.

Today, the elderly couple at Harry's billet are out to church and won't be back until supper, so it's Harry who answers her incessant knocking. He's clearly expecting someone else. Nix, perhaps, on account of the sour tells of a hangover hovering over him like a cloud, and the curse that's halfway out of his mouth. But when he sees that it's her, he snaps out of it and immediately goes still in surprise. "Sgt. Grogan."

"Lieutenant," she stands at attention in greeting. "We need to talk."

"At ease," Harry says, blinking up at her before rubbing at the back of his neck. "Yeah. Yeah, alright."

He steps aside, and lets her in.

#kitty grogan #harry welsh #harry/kitty #band of brothers #yes I am guilty of making all my characters shoulder the burden of my mommy issues and eldest child syndrome #impertinent eldest child is my favorite kind of eldest child #estrella_marie #also peep my stupid hc that kitty often makes jokes that fall exceptionally flat because either she has tone problems or they're just #a little too barbed #harry thinks she's HILARIOUS though

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i-am-so-normal-about-radiostatic · 6 months ago

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ALASTOR HEADCANON

So there was some discourse (idk if a while ago or recently, since I have autism and live under a rock) about Alastor's symbols being voodoo related, voodoo being closed off or ancestry based or smth and Alastor looking just too white

BUT

What if he wasn't white while alive?

Think about it

Alastor is a mama's boy, and in most of his mom's portrayals (not canon, yet still), it was his mom who was black

If he was mixed, he would have to endure the racism (it was the early 20th century after all), but he could see it as a sort of memorabilia, a reminder of his mother's side of the family tree.

And Hell is known to take aspects of people they would rather stay hidden and make it their whole thing or even making up new things to torture its inhabitants with (examples including Alastor being a deer and Husk having to fight his cat instincts)

You see where this is going?

Hell could've made him white to take away something he spent his entire life with, his ball and chain that he was proud of, and left him there, white and definetely passing

We can't also forget that as a white man who died in 1933 (to my knowledge), sinners and hellborns alike would probably assume him to be racist, even though he's the furthest from that

Imagine a jackass sinner making a black people joke, and Alastor either murdering him or having to fight the urge to do so.

It's just an elaborate form of torture

But, isn't Hell all about that?

Now, onto topic 2

His fuckass bob

As stated with point 1, I think it was part of his whole punishment ordeal

I think he had curly hair while alive and his mom helped him style it.

As in Smol Child™ Alastor sitting on a stool or smth and his mom combing his hair, sharing stories or listening to him retelling his day

His hair might've been a nightmare to maintain, but it was his, and it brought back fond memories

But now, in Hell, he is stuck with the most fuckass bob and criminal undercut ever known to humankind, and he probably lowkey hated it

And it's worth noting that the Fuckass Bob™ is the furthest thing from a 1920/1930's haircut, so there would be absolutely no reason for it to be his living haircut

Now, another Alastor's Hair headcanon that I have is that he can't change it

He tries to braid it?

Next day it's back to being fuckass and whatever he used to keep the braids in place is gone

He tries to cut it?

It regrows during the night

He literally burns his hair off?

Fine and fuckass in the morning

Whatever he does, that hairstyle won't leave him alone and he hates it

But he can't do anything

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, stealing headcanons heavily encouraged

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin headcanons #headcanon #that fuckass bob aint natural #it has to be forced #I refuse to believe he would willingly get that criminally ugly offense to barberkind

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nerd-bones · 1 year ago

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ABSOLUTELY COMPLETELY BIG SPOILER FOR THE ENDING OF GOOD OMENS 2 BUT I HAVE SO MANY FUCKING THOUGHTS PROCEED ONLY IF YOU DARE

im just gonna completely analyze the last about twenty minutes of the episode using quotes from the show so serious spoilers////

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

Crowley: "Look, I suppose, um...I've got something to say. I know we ought to be talking about...It's probably best if i start off doing all the talking, you do all the listening, 'cause if i dont start talking now, I won't ever start talking, right? Yes, so-"

Aziraphale: "What's that lovely human expression? Oh, yes! Hold that thought!"

Absolutely fucking shattering, Crowley was so visibly nervous about talking about his feelings and told him that he needs to talk to Aziraphale only to have Aziraphale completely run his speech over with a truck. You can visibly see from Crowley's face how upset that made him which just aghh hurts alot.

---

Aziraphale: "I have some incredibly good news to give you."

Crowley: "Really?"

You can just hear it in Crowleys voice he's just so done with it at the moment

---

Aziraphale: "I...um...So, um...the Metatron, you know, I don't think he's as bad a fellow-- Well, I think I might've misjudged him."

Crowleys face in this moment absolutely breaks my heart hes so pissed off. His face expression during the entire time Aziraphale talks is just incredible and portrays so many feelings of anger and hurt GOD.

---

Aziraphale: "You see, I--Well, he said, um, that Gabriel obviously hadn't worked out...[laughs] as Supreme Archangel and Commander of the Heavenly Host, and he asked who I though should take over in Heaven now that Gabriel was gone. And I said..."

*Flash to the metatron and Aziraphale talking about how aziraphale should be the new supreme archangel and how they can restore Crowley back to an angel*(dont feel like writing that out)

Crowley: "He said what?"

Aziraphale: "He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to Heaven and...and everything, like the old times. Only, even nicer."

Crowley: "Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then?"

Aziraphale: "Not at all."

Crowley obviously hates Heaven because of the way they treat him there's no way he would ever wanna go back to them again. He has made a life for himself here with things he likes. He may be technically a demon but he's not actually evil, it's proven by the fact that he hid those goats and children from both Heaven and God instead of killing them like he was supposed to do. In Hell he would only have to be evil all the time and do bad things and in Heaven he'd just have to comply and not ask questions which just isn't like him at all. On Earth he can be just who he wants to be, do what he wants without no one telling him he can't do this or that. Aziraphale can't understand it, because he's still technically good with Heaven, he wasn't cast out and this is his opportunity to be "Good" again because he sees everything in black and white. Meanwhile Crowley is a complicated individual who sees the world in different shades of gray and realizes no one is only good or bad.

----

Aziraphale:"Not at all."

Crowley: "Oh, we're better than that, you're better than that, Angel! You don't need them. I certainly don't need them! Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no. I'm not gonna be joining their team. Neither should you."

Aziraphale: "But...Well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys. But...Heaven. Well, it's the side of truth, of light, of good."

Again Aziraphale only seeing Good and Evil as two opposing sides. The way that he lumps Crowley in with "the bad guys" just because he's a demon is insanely hurtful. He's known Crowley for thousands of years and he's seen him do plenty of good, yet he still sees him as Evil because he's a demon and sticking to his closeminded understanding of good and evil. (Don't get me wrong I absolutely adore Aziraphale and the way he is written this is amazing but it also just hurts my soul because I just relate to Crowley so much)

---

Crowley: "When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it."

Aziraphale:[Silence]

I feel like here Aziraphale understood for a second that what Crowley was saying was true, yet he still couldn't fully grasp it because again, the way he sees Good and Evil.

---

Crowley: "Tell me you said no. Tell me you said no."

Aziraphale: "If I'm in charge...I can make a difference."

I think Aziraphale truly believes that he can make a change somehow, but i feel like it leans back into the Good and Evil thing, because when they talked about killing Job's children he was against it, because he sees death as Evil, so Heaven would possibly only do things Aziraphale deems Good and Right, which in return may bring catastrophical consequences.

---

Crowley: "Oh. Oh, God. Right, okay. Right. I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say, I think I'd better say it now. Right, okay, yes, so... [sighs] We've known each other a long time. We've been on his planet for a long time. I mean, you and me. I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We're a team, a group. Group of the two of us. And we've spent out existence pretending that we aren't. I mean, the last few years, not really. And I would like to spend...[grunts] I mean, if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, go off together, then we can. Just the two of us. We don't need Heaven, we don't need Hell, they're toxic. We need to get away from them, just be an us. You and me, what do you say?"

Crowley's confession. Absolutely devastating. I don't even know if I can analyze this because the speech itself is self explanatory. Crowley has always felt like it's the two of them together, he sees them as just them. He's tried before to go off with Aziraphale in the first season to Alpha Centuri, but Aziraphale refused. Crowley desperately wants Aziraphale to understand that Heaven and Hell don't matter to him and that they shouldn't matter to Aziraphale either, because Aziraphale is the only thing that matters to Crowley. And Crowley desperately wants to be the only thing that matters to Aziraphale.

---

Aziraphale: "Come with me...to Heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference."

As much as Aziraphale sees Crowley as Evil, he still wants him to be by his side and he does want to be by Crowleys side. But he also wants Crowley to become Good again, which is the conflicting factor, because Crowley is already Good, Aziraphale just doesn't see it.

---

Crowley "You can't leave this bookshop."

In a desperate attempt, Crowley does a reach and reminds Aziraphale about how much the bookshop means to him, in an attempt to change his mind about heaven.

---

Aziraphale: "Oh, Crowley. Nothing lasts forever."

Crowley:"No. No, I don't suppose it does. Good luck."

Aziraphale loves his bookshop, but Aziraphale also loves Crowley. He's willing to give it up just so he and Crowley could be in Heaven together and work together. Aziraphale saying nothing lasts forever about the bookshop makes Crowley realize that they could also not last forever this way and their "us" would've had to end sooner or later. By saying good luck, Crowley definitively denies Aziraphales offer of joining him in heaven.

---

Aziraphale: "Good luck? Crowley! Crowley, come back, to Heaven! Work with me! We can be together! Angels...doing good! I...I need you!"

Aziraphale says it himself, he wants to be together with Crowley, but for that to happen they would need to go to heaven and Crowley would have to become an angel. Aziraphale wants Crowley to change for him, to fit in this mold of Goodness and be an Angel. But that's not who Crowley is. Crowley doesn't want to change the way he is because he's happy this way.

---

Aziraphale: "I dont think you understand what I'm offering you."

Crowley: "I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."

Aziraphale doesn't really realize what he's asking Crowley to do for him. To change for him. Aziraphale sees being an angel as good thing, which Crowley doesn't agree with.

---

Aziraphale: "Well...then there's nothing more to say."

Crowley: "Listen. Do you hear that?"

Aziraphale" I don't hear anything."

Crowley: "That's the point. No nightingales."

So I know it's like a reference but does this have deeper meaning I've missed? Let me know.

---

Crowley: "You idiot. We could have been...us."

DOUBLE MEANING MOMENT obviously they could have been "us" in the sense that they're together and in love. But it could also mean that they could've stayed the same if Aziraphale had agreed with Crowley, which means Crowley wouldn't have had to turn into an angel to be together with him. This hurts man.

---

Kiss moment. I don't even have words for this. I still cannot believe this happened even. But maybe this could be counted as Crowley's final attempt in trying to change Aziraphales mind? Which sadly, didn't work.

Aziraphale: "I...I forgive you."

For a bit I couldn't understand what he meant by that, but now i believe he said so because of the fact that Crowley refused to join him in heaven and that's what Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for. If theres any other ideas lay them on me, id be interested to hear them.

Crowley: "Don't bother."

Crowley's last words to Aziraphale. Don't bother apologizing, because I don't care to hear it. He's heartbroken, he's angry, he's upset. The person who he has been pining for 6000 years doesn't understand him at all. It's honestly so heartbreaking. AND ALSO IF THIS IS THE WAY IT ENDS IF WE DON'T GET A SEASON THREE I WILL ABSOLUTELY RIOT BECAUSE THIS IS SUCH A PAINFUL WAY TO END THEIR RELATIONSHIP I NEED TO SEE THEM MAKE AMMENDS AND BE GOOD AGAIN.

Anyway yes those are my thoughts on the ending, let me know what you guys think.

#good omens #good omens analysis #good omens angst #good omens aziraphale #good omens crowley

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anataliex · 3 months ago

Text

Held Captive

TW: mention of torture, mention of death

Three weeks already passed since her capture, so much time spent in this hell of a prison. While sitting on the cold, tiled floor, her hand absentmindedly raised to touch her neck. How it hurt to feel nothing resting on her collarbones. There was no comfort of the cold, white pearls under her fingertips, no pendant from her grandmother to clutch in her hand. Right after she got there, they stripped her of the comfort her jewelry always provided. Her hand brushed the thin material of her white hospital gown, that was now two sizes too big for her. Anyone could notice how much weight Nicole has lost. Every time she looked down on herself, she wondered, would she be more resilient now, if she had listened when Ozzy told her to eat more. Maybe then, she wouldn't be wilting so quickly. Who would've thought at that time, that a silly reprimand could wage her chances of survival now.

With that another line of thinking came into motion, is Ozzy still alive? Have they also decided to capture him and torture him somewhere else, because he was associated with her? It was unpredictable, what exactly the Capitol was capable of. They might've just killed him for speaking well of the victors, the rebels. She hoped he didn't do that. He couldn't have, he wasn't stupid.

In this little white room, there wasn't much more left to do, than to think. Nicole was sure it was designed to drive it's resident into madness, as there was nothing else to stare at but the door and nothing more to hear, besides the screams coming from the other people held there. The worst part was she recognized the voices nearest to her. They kept Johanna and Peeta somewhere nearby. The peacekeepers told her about a rebel plot unwinding during the end of the quell, but they wouldn't tell her more. They didn't talk much about what actually happened during the games, especially not near her. She almost regretted that she as always didn't watch them, it could've helped her understand the situation better.

Even if they told her anything more, it wouldn't really matter. Nicole didn't trust their words, the only thing they did was mess with her head. At first, they told her no other victor survived, besides the two kept there. However then, news broke out that Katniss was alive. They still kept up that everyone else died, though. The peacekeepers said, the rebels took Katniss out of there first to be the symbol of rebellion, no one else survived. Everyone else is dead. Finnick is dead.

The thought of his passing was eating at her all the time there. Conflicting thoughts were rising in her head. She didn't want to believe them, but at the same time she knew it was highly possible. Wouldn't he also be there if he was alive? Was he with Katniss and the rebels? Her final thought always ended up being about how he is probably six feet under, as good as gone.

Nicole tried to swallow down the saliva, hoping to drown the taste of soap in her mouth, but it remained constant. Sleep was rare for her in that place, if not impossible, she usually passed out of fatigue. During one of the times that happened, she dreamt of her mother. It made her sure she was nearing her demise, it seemed as if her mom came to take her away from that place. Her end didn't come, though, not even after a week. However, knowing how the only two people she had left might be gone, she sometimes wished for it to finally arrive.

Many minutes have passed with her just staring at the door, trapped in her own thoughts, when it opened. Two peacekeepers came in, standing on both sides of the entrance.

"Stand up. You have a visitor" one of them announced. She didn't even know they allowed visitors here. Nicole began to think this was some trick played on her, some kind of manipulation. Neither of these peacekeepers were assigned to her before, which made things weirder. After three weeks, she recognized most of the people that had to do anything with her. One face stuck to her in particular, since the man went easier on her than the others and provided her with the most information. She wished he'd be one of the two peacekeepers.

She stood up without a word, her gaze switching between one face and the other. The peacekeeper who hasn't spoken cuffed her hands. They were the type of handcuffs, that'd shock you, if the supervising soldier wanted that to happen.

They led her out through the corridor to another, slightly bigger room. This one had white walls as well and a table with two chairs in the middle, much like the interrogation room. The fact it looked so similar to the room, where they did all those terrible things to her, made panic bubble up inside her and her breathing became more shallow.

The door on the other side of the room opened. It was as if everything stopped when the President walked in. Her eyes widened as much as they could and the air was knocked out of her lungs. Only in her worst nightmares, had she imagined ever coming face to face with this man. The stench of blood and roses flooded her senses as he came closer, it was terribly unpleasant and strong.

"Nicole" he addressed her as he sat down on one of the chairs. "Have a seat" Snow invited her with a gesture of his hand.

One of the soldiers pushed her in the direction of the seat. She also sat down and now looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"I don't believe that's the face you greet your family with" he added when he saw her expression

"What do you want from me?" Nicole asked lowly, her voice strained.

"I thought that perhaps a familiar face might get some sense through to your head" he looked into her eyes, his voice eerily calm. "Why do you so stubbornly insist on sticking with the rebels? Do you think they give a single thought to you?"

"I don't care if they even know who I am" she kept her voice low and tried to keep it steady. The pause was caused by her having to find the right words. During last weeks, it became harder for her to speak and losing words, or stumbling over them, was frequent now. "I'm staying true to what I think is right"

"Just like your father. Always sticking to your principles" he said the last words almost mockingly. "However, he's not with us anymore, precisely because of that. I believe, he would have wanted you to make a smarter decision than he did, Nicole."

At the mention of her father, only one image appeared in her head. His grave. She remembered so vividly how she stood with her grandmother in front of his and her mother's grave. An eight year old girl, dressed in a black dress, who has just laid a bouquet of flowers in front of her parents' tombstone. Her grandmother was crying, while holding her hand. She wanted to cry too, but it was impossible for her, as if her consciousness was still repulsing what happened. Only in the evening, when it fully dawned on her, she started crying and couldn't stop for the whole night.

"Then you didn't know him. I doubt he would want his daughter to let go of her morality" her voice was still mostly monotone, with only an edge of spite.

"He'd want you to understand that you'll end up dead, if hypothetically the rebellion wins. Do you think they'd spare your life? Naturally, they wouldn't. I doubt my nephew would want his cherished daughter to keep her self-proclaimed morality, but end up laying in a coffin" he kept his cold eyes on her.

"They wouldn't spare my life and understandably so" she swallowed and gathered her thoughts, anger coursing through her being at the manner of how this man spoke about her father. "and you don't have the right to talk about my father, when you were the one who ordered to kill him"

"He committed treason and wanted to run from the Capitol" Snow reminded, pleased with how she seemed to slowly lose control.

Another painful memory struck her mind. One of her parents leaving her at her grandmother's house, saying their goodbyes. Her mom was on her knees, embracing her for what would be the last time, assuring Nicole of her love, while her father consoled her grandma.

"He voiced his opinion and wanted to run because you made him fear for his life" she spat out at him.

"As the president, I can't turn blind eye on any crime, especially one committed by a relative" he ignored her comment.

"But somehow no one ever got convicted for the convenient disappearances of your opponents" her tone was accusatory, eyes remaining narrowed.

"Those were terrible accidents, we humans are fragile beings after all." he stood up from his chair, his gaze not leaving her. "As much as I hoped for it not to be the case, the rebels have completely messed up your brain. There is nothing more I can do for you, only wish that you'll realize the truth in time" he then turned to the peacekeepers. "Wash out her mouth with soap. It must be incredibly dirty, after all the nonsense that came out of it "

Her eyes widen at the words and one of the soldiers came up to her, restrained her and picked her up from the chair as the president was leaving.

"No- No!' she screamed, as she wrestled against the peacekeeper, panic engulfing her wholly. "Please, let go of me! Let go" the grip on her remained firm against her protests and she was dragged out of the room, the echoes of her screams ringing in the halls.

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

So, here's another snippet of my OC, Nicole. This one takes place during her time as a prisoner in the Capitol, where she was taken to be interrogated (read: tortured) and imprisoned for allegedly speculating against the Capitol with the rebels. In truth, she was just bait, but that's how they covered it up.

I hope you enjoyed reading it! <3

#the hunger games #oc #hunger games oc #finnick odair #hunger games finnick #finnick x oc #president snow #thg fanfiction #fanfic #thg oc #thg ocs #please don't flop

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luhstories · 2 years ago

Text

closed starter for @gothwives

this wasn't her scene by a mite; too many bodies that bumped into her own and faces she catalogued unwillingly — her brain might've been broken, but in other ways it made her a savant. he'd convinced her to step between the boundaries of heaven and hell. to leave her sanctuary that was also a cage, only to step out into untrodden waters. that one little word ringing in her mind while jazz played in the background of it : compromise. she was compromising for a man that couldn't even admit he liked her. sienna was starting to not recognize herself. when she looked in the mirror, she would see her sister looking right back. too easily bending the knee to appease; crumbling because she craved warmth rather than cold dejection. shit— was he up next or had he already gone? she thought to herself, allowing noise of bar to fill her senses once again and murky hues searched for him after she'd been left by her lonesome at the bar. she was blonde now. one bleach and dye job in a motel room and she looked like she fit right in; even traded her humble attire for something more.. city-like. red leather mini skirt that was hanging on by the grace of god for if she bent over or squatted, her black thong beneath fishnets would show her shaven crotch to hundreds. pair it with an extremely cut white tank that accentuated her perky breasts and sienna looked like a grunge prostitute. that was what she wanted though, to look dirty and like she'd step on someone if they said anything stupid to her — yet f*ckable. taking hard drag from cigarette that a stranger had given her, the femme exhaled smoke when she finally saw him.

#gothwives #interactions ; sienna #sienna mimics courage the cowardly dog: oh the things i do for l*ve

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notnosimp · 5 months ago

Note

Why did crik take the job? Is it because of the "do what you want with no repercussions" thing?

I'm still kinda workshopping this part of the story, but yeah, basically- he heard from the insider that he'd basically be able to do whatever the hell he wanted and that plus a huge ass paycheck kinda just lured him in big time.

They promised bigger things along the way so he'd stay in the intro program and not quit- as well as threats to keep him there.

They tried to make him feel stuck in the intro program and Showfall the moment he stepped onto Showfall property despite the fact that he probably could've turned around any time in those too weeks and been fine (though, he would keep his memories and they might've tracked him down if he did this late late in the program- like when he was finally faced with torturing someone. I'll make a fic on that so it sounds less random.)

I might keep the actual things that the original job had entailed a secret- I don't know fully what they'd be myself, but I think it's more fun to imagine the possibilities. (Drabble about all this below)

Criken knew he had some problems. He knew he should probably be taking therapy for said problems. But it wasn't that bad, right? It's not like he was going around killing people. He just had a bit less remorse than the normal person. That's all.

When one of his friends came to him about a job opening and all the 'amazing things' promised with it, he was- rightfully- skeptical at first. It sounded sketchy. Almost unreal at times for what it promised.

...But he only waited a day, going against his gut.

The job practically beckoned him- it felt almost made for him- he couldn't refuse this, even if it did feel a little weird. It'd probably be fine- how many jobs were secret ploys to harm or kidnap? Not many, he thinks.

After the first few days in the intro program, his troubles were gone. They didn't do an 'internship' like most other places, which was strange- but they only really had him working out and brainstorming, so he was fine. He could keep this up for a few weeks!

After the first week is when things started getting weird. He was being tested by a person in straight black clothes and who always wore a white mask with their signature logo on the front- he assumed it was just for anonymity's sake, but still. He was getting asked weirder and weirder questions; "Would you live at Showfall?" "Would you lie for Showfall?". Soon, it devolved into "Would you kill for us?" or just "Would you kill?".

He didn't know how to feel, but after those questions, they rushed him into an elevator- telling him that he was "Almost ready" and that he could "Finally see the true company". Then, he was taken on a massive tour all around, better described as below, the actual Showfalls building. He was being taken to see the behind the scenes of it all- the inner workings. He saw hundreds of people- people who were all in similar masks unlike the people at the front desk- all mindlessly walking around, fixing wiring, carrying things, or setting up props.

It... almost unnerved him, how the people there seemed to never clock out, or even talk. They hadn't even noticed him coming in.

But it intrigued him a lot, lot more. He was interested in what was going on in the facility, and what kind of part he was going to play, if his friend was right about the job. He wanted to pull the strings himself- not be subjected to the pulling of them. He wanted to finally make something- make something that came straight from the deepest pits of his nightmares and see it come true in the most gorey, beautiful ways that his other jobs never allowed. Wanted to take control of his own mind- not just others.

During the last week, and the final day of what he had just been calling the 'unofficial internship', they took him to a dark, decrepit room. He could tell it was older than most of the building and it clearly wasn't made for the public eye. The walls and the floor were all solid, cracking concrete- drips of something coming down the ceiling and making a dark puddle in the corner. The air was stale and all that inhabited the room was a single fold-up chair in the middle and a tied up, gagged and blindfolded man sitting on it. His chest rose up and down as he heaved out breath after breath- he didn't yet know they were there, from the looks of it.

He looked back at the employee who had guided him there with an empty, questioning gaze. The employee gently took his right hand and lifted it up, softly placing a knife in his palm aimed at themself. They then simply and quickly left the room, shutting the door quietly and leaving Criken to his devices.

He couldn't say he wasn't nervous. Not for what he was about to do- he knew what to do the moment the knife came out, and he would if it meant getting this job- but more for the repercussions. Was this fake? Was it all a secret trap made specifically for people like him? It couldn't be, right? They were, a hundred percent, asking him to kill and maybe torture some random man just for the sake of the hiring process.

He weighed his options for a good three minutes, turning around to face the man, finally.

Criken looked back at the door, looked at the knife in his hand, and took a step forward.

Him being tortured was mainly just them mentally torturing him when they were testing how far they could go and make him go- which entailed telling him that they were going to kill his friends (he was far, FAR gone by this point), and showing him fake recordings of these killings. They revealed to him later on that they were fine. Though the surgeons may have (definitely) stalled when implanting his wires purely to make it hurt more and done a lot of unnecessary incisions. Pretty much everyone who works here without a mask is badshit, if I hadn't made that clear from the get-go.

(If you have any ideas about other 'tests' or any more incentives for Crik that may have made him want the job more, lmk btw! Hope all this wasn't too confusing and came together well enough. I am still workshopping it all, so some things might change until I make the 'canon' log of what happens in the AU/story)

#rambles #asks #generation loss #genloss #generation loss hetch #genloss hetch #gl!hetch #gl hetch #gl!criken #gl criken #Hetch #criken

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