#so the brick goes into the house
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kimdokjas · 7 months ago
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though the movie might be cancelled, yuri on ice will live forever in our hearts. thank you yoi fandom, it's been real ♡
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fumifooms · 3 months ago
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Dandan x Asivia
Dubbed dansivia. Confused as to who either of these are? Here’s a Dandan comp and Asivia wise this post is close enough for now
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There is a brave visionary on ao3 and they’re so right
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Ok first of all let’s address the theory:
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Dandan is indeed the only Laios party member not pictured here (besides Chilchuck himself but we saw he didn’t like her which would contradict this anyways). I keep wanting to add "that we know of" or some other caveat but honestly not even no, it’s never implied or mentioned they had yet another party member and that makes sense since we saw the party’s inception right up to its current party composition.
… So… Mystery solved right out of the gate? I dunno, it feels weird to me to claim Dandan hates Laios, but if he kept it under wraps enough or reasoned with himself about it I could see it. Laios and Dandan were coworkers from their gold peeling days, and so when Laios left to try a career in dungeon diving Dandan joined him.
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They seem very standard coworkers that get along well enough to me, far from skulls emoji energy, but yeah there is a case to be made on both overt strong dislike and repressed strong dislike ends. But maybe the true beef started after he left the party even, especially if he fancies Asivia and kept up with the party’s drama that went down with her, though the chart does imply it was the work dynamic while he was still in the party because of context. But, believing that Dandan likes her and Asivia considered getting with him like the other men of the party, Asivia would have literally sidelined Dandan to pursue Laios. And Laios doesn’t even realize her attempts at seduction? Ok yeah the hate is plausible nvm. Also we can keep in mind that this is Chilchuck’s chart and he could have more insight on Dandan’s feelings than the average coworker since he’s his friend. It def fleshes him more out with implications. He’s professional he keeps unnecessary shit to himself. It’d be weird to me if the relationship chart was made without Kui thinking it through, or retconning it, it is the canon we get so it’s interesting to ponder. Kui giving us secret romantic drama for free <3
Speaking of what’s not free. Ok maybe Dan does dislike Laios, do business introductions really cost money… I mean I respect the hustle but. So Dandan is heavily implied to be the one to introduce Asivia to the party. The only other mage was Marcille and well we know how that went. "A real cutie". Yeah. I bet. 👀
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This is the most interesting dansivia part to me, they did meet previously to the party, both doing what they do best, networking. Dan helped Asivia find a job, how did they meet and how did that go? What if she had an infamous reputation already, how much did they get acquainted… There’s a lot of leeway for fun here
Gorgeous hustling but lazy manipulator that seeks a fortunate husband x slight womanizer hustling & hardworking poor guy that’s been around in business for too long to be played… Both work a lot but like to take it easy when they can. Tavern flirtations and having met while networking and "I can hook you with a job" (staring and smiling too much) and "Oh Dandan, you’re so capable and knowledgeable about the Island, could you help me out~"
Manipulator hustler seductress x laidback hustler flirt… Social butterflies, streets smarts in different yet similar ways… Observant x observant………. She’s very harsh and drops people/her damsel act at the first second she can’t get something out of it anymore and I think he’d be so into that. Dandan liking strongminded women. Women who kinda play dirty. Makes him respect them and want to pursue them help…
And like, takes on Asivia differ nowadays but I do need her to mean this shit for this, this is what she's unabashedly about. She is just a woman trying to make it in this world but working people’s the name of her game. Whatever reason you give her, she was taking advantage of Laios and trying to get a marriage with any decent profitable guy she could. She knows what she’s doing and she doesn’t look the least bit remorseful. A girl who knows what she wants and chases it, rawr ⬅️ Dandan voice
They both fall for each other but neither can admit it because they know it’s just temporary, she’ll go look for a well-off tallman husband eventually. Messy situationship go. Can they even have a good ending together. It’s all only ever nice in the present moments… She’ll leave he can’t offer her anything but himself and a very humble lifestyle, she’ll leave she can’t settle for that she won’t, he knows that and it’s part of why he liked her in the first place. Oughhhhh
Ohhh to be underdogs, settling for a humble life & being content with that vs unapologetically ambitious and chases that life and comfort she seeks, which in turn makes him admire her…….. But even if she inspires him to chase what he wants, she can’t give it to him…………..
Putting this on blast bc they’re great thoughts
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Because I’m me I’m trying to make them reach a happy long term ending together and it’s not working… Which is more fun tbh. I shall ponder this puzzle…
Casanova Dandan is so important to me now. Chilchuck’s in a separation slump & faithfulness oath to the wind but Dandan, good friend dandan? He’s living he’s thriving he’s pulling
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I want fics of them meeting & networking. He’s very up to the news in the dungeon goer community… All I’m saying is I can see Dandan bartering for a shot with her in exhange for information or helping her out find jobs, knowing she’s after guys to marry too 🤭 I think they should flirt in a tavern. I think they should make eyes at each other over glasses and exchanging business convos and leaving it all in the implied and unspoken
Dansivia is getting too real to me
The fics are fun go read ‘em
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formereldestdaughter · 8 months ago
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ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....
This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.
I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?
(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)
I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.
Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.
And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.
I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.
(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)
I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.
We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.
On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??
So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.
It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.
Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).
But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.
Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?
Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?
#peeta mellark#thg#the hunger games#the hunger games meta#anyway wow this got so long and I literally read it through one (1) time so uhhh sorry if this makes no sense!!#as I was doing my one read through and realized that one of my other thoughts on this is that yeah I can much more easily see the#headcanon that peeta like sells baked goods (probably at cost with no profit) out of his kitchen because that’s much more flexible#and I think that would work a lot better with what like I guess I’d call his psychiatric disability post mockingjay#and how he’d certainly want to take care of Katniss too#like that sort of flexibility makes a lot more sense for him and it’s like. if he doesn’t bake for a few days or however long then it’s fin#it’s not a formal brick and mortar business#it’s just something he’s doing because it’s a way to be involved with people and a way to do something he’s passionate about#without there being waste and while covering some of the costs#and he doesn’t have to like keep books or do payroll or any of the things I can’t see him being very passionate about#as far as like bakery management goes Lmao he can just bake!!#but then I started getting into this whole thing about how that quote-unquote ‘running a business’ like that (informally from your house)#is actually a really common practice for people living in poverty so probably something that Katniss and peeta would’ve been familiar wirh#anyway and then this whole rant about how the emphasis on the brick and mortar bakery often goes hand in hand with#this widespread fandom thing of having a fundamental misunderstanding of how rural poverty works and what it looks like#but then I was too deep into it and said you know what? never mind! and deleted it lmao
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uri59 · 1 month ago
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God knows I love Ranma 1/2, it's my favorite manga and anime (with it's mistakes and all), and when the remake was announced I was thrilled beyond belief...
But God, the hate I have for Akane still remains strong, she is the absolutely worst
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bowsers-sweaty-asshole · 25 days ago
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renboob · 2 years ago
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i appriciate the sentiment but your ass wouldn’t have the guts to kill jack or than i think ur being would actually just implode  
in summary- i was a bit pissy at them for leaving With Out Saying Anything- except for to you which- i saw that pos-t it would’ve been real fuckin nice if you’d’ve let me know- but i was pissy and they just Kept misunderstanding why i was mad and it just wasn’t getting through and it was fucking infuriating
and if you think that my response to this shit wouldn’t be murder then maybe you didn’t know me as well as you thought- because- that is something i am *very* open about dave- ((tws below read more))
like i full on admitted to killing like- 5 random people after that argument i had with raeva forever ago- and after they decided to tell me they hate me? i Also killed like 2 people- that was only meant to be one but i had no fucking idea they had someone over- i killed jay- not from the mineshaft- bc i got upset about ravea leaving again- which- is the girl from town that’s been missing for- what?- over a year?- the politician that i mauled’s younger sister- I’m sure her case’s gone cold by now- i dont know- i dont give 2 shits- there’s no way they didn’t re-open it tho- p sure relict ended up dumping her body in the dumpster for the police station just to fuck with ‘em- absolutely no way she was recognizable until they did a DNA test or whatever- dental records or some shit- sure its on the news somewhere- and it’s not your fault- but i fucking maimed like 12 people after you left- albeit i was- not okay then- i dont even think i used a fucking proper weapon- one of my claws is still fucked up from it getting hung and me not realising until it was Way too late-
and thats just off the top of my head- there’s been plenty more-
i dont know if you just didnt realise- or wanted to pretend i wasnt- but you really should not be surprised that my first reaction was to kill someone-
and i think you missed the detail where i said it’d be so ethan could shrink me.
what the hell is happening over there?
im fucking loosing it! but i can certainly tell you whats not happening! (me being mean to llyr) (i would never do that) nd i mean its just a joy- absolutely amzing- i lobv receiving anonymous asks that make so little sense wit no label or indicator of who sent them or whe- oh bay bee squorl i feel like we had a WHOLE argument after the last time you didn't sign ur ask
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hella1975 · 2 years ago
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why pay for a gym membership when you can go back to the countryside and move bags of concrete for FREE 😍
#my life at home is so glamorous btw#so the thing about my mum is that we have almost 2 acres of land and obviously the upkeep of that is INTENSE#but her attitude - justifiably - is 'if i can do it myself then why would i pay someone to do it?'#so me and my sister have gone our whole lives used to just helping with the chores#like that's not a big deal i really think it's a bit grim how a lot of teenagers just Dont Help with the chores#BUT my point is for me and my sister 'helping with chores' isnt just like. washing up and doing laundry lmao#like we have LAND and ANIMALS and there isn't exactly a man about the house that does all the heavy lifting#so it's my mum powered by sheer rage and stubborness telling me and my sister what to lift and where to put it#and that's just how it is like we move bricks and poles and fence panels etc etc the list goes on#literally a free work out and it's then so funny bc my friends know me to be quite lazy when it comes to activity#like i dont do any sports and i refuse to go gym with them and i like my little bed etc#BUT when put in a position where it's actually shown i will typically be stronger than my friends#including the ones paying extortionate amounts for gym memberships LMAO#like me and two of my mates did ninja warrior not long ago and one of them is a proper gym lad#and i left her in the DUST and she was acc a bit fuming about it? like it made her really insecure i was like how fucking offensive is that#like she was basically insecure bc 'how can i possibly be less fit than [my name] when she does fuck all' LMFAOOOO#i giggled#it's me and my sleeper countryside build against the corporations#BUT since coming uni it has slipped a bit bc ive gone from doing an hour of intense heavy lifting at least every? two days? ish?#to doing fuck all for weeks on end and then doing short bursts of it when i come home#so doing it today was a bit sad bc i cant lift nearly as much as i used to. like i can still lug 15kg dog food bags on my shoulder#like a little farmer boy but icl i was SWEATING today with that concrete when normally i'd do it pretty easy#so maybe i'll get more into my fitness again idk. like as lazy as i am working out does give you that little rush of endorphins#and the kind of workout i do as well gives me that very human satisfaction of simple manual labour#like truly satisfies ten generations of factory workers and farmers in my bloodline lmao they r smiling down on me#hella goes home
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motherfuck-why · 3 months ago
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So, as it would turn out, someone else living with me also heard the sound and it would also turn out I DO have an attic. Meaning there's about a 100% chance that something/someone is in my attic just chillin', running around, have fun, and traumatizing the flying fuckwaffle out of me
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haveihitanerve · 5 months ago
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My favorite thing about the bats is that… they are gothamites. And sure they scare the shit out of people… but they are in Gotham. Superman is loved by his people, Flash is adored, people pray to Wonder Woman, Green Arrow is feared. But the Bats? The Bats are like all of Gotham's weird older brothers/sisters/parents. Superman and Green Lantern are visiting Batman in Gotham and all of a sudden he gets smacked in the face by a banana and they turn and find a group of teens skateboarding away and one kid calls over his shoulder ‘eat the fucking potassium you absolute brick.’ and Batman doesn't even do anything. Barry is chilling with Nightwing when a girl runs beneath the building they are sitting on and screams “Nice ass Night! But get it the fuck down here, my cats stuck in a tree.” And Nightwing does a flip off the building and just?? helps her?? Wonder Woman and Black Canary are passing through Crime Alley on their way to the Batcave and spot Red Hood standing in an alley, being lectured by a woman who is half his size and she ends the lecture by throwing two sandwiches at his face and walking away. Red Hood just takes his hood off and starts eating. Superboy is helping Red Robin defeat Scarecrow and while they’re hiding, waiting for him to walk into their trap, RR is casually conversing with a Gothamite about Hogwarts Houses, and when he says the Gothamite looks like a Gryfindor he pops his head out and screams “Yo scarecrow hes right fucking here!” J’onn is heading to the Manor to discuss League business with Bruce when he spots Robin(Damian) fighting Riddler all alone and is about to intervene when three teenagers show up and just fucking deck him instead. Damian doesn't thank them, just glowers, and one of the guys goes “you're welcome you fucking brat.” And the girl even smacks the back of his head and goes “manners.” Clark is sent to go find Tim and Steph and Damian and finds them at this girls birthday party, in full costume, eating cupcakes and drinking punch, jumping on the bouncy house and is like “errr, B-Batman needs you home.” And as one the entire birthday party group went “Fuck Batman.” Spoiler was spotted painting these guys nails, Black Bat was seen teaching calculus to a group of teenagers, Batgirl(Babs) was running after a group of kids screaming “Give me back my laptop you fucks!” Just- just the batfamily and Gothamites being annoying to each other and appreciative yet bitches. 
Bus driver: stop getting thrown at my fucking bus, i got places to be and my insurance only covers so many shatter windshields and person sized dents  Batman: I don't really control where I get thrown Bus Driver: well you better fucking start otherwise theres gonna be another fucking villain on these streets *drives away and almost runs him over* Superman: *gaping* yo-you're just gonna let him do that? Batman: *shrugs* Gotham insurance aint what its cracked up to be Superman: *staring dumbly*
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hairmetal666 · 5 months ago
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Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.
He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.
Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.
This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.
He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.
A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.
"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.
The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.
He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.
Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.
His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--
"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.
For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.
"Why?" He snarls.
Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."
The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"
Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.
"No takesies-backsies?"
"It's yours."
The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."
The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."
"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.
---
13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.
It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.
In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.
He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--
"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"
Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--
"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."
"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.
"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."
His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"
"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.
Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."
"And now?"
Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."
And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."
He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.
"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.
"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."
"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.
They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.
From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.
"So, marriage...that still off the table?"
Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."
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clockwayswrites · 7 months ago
Text
Danny is a minx and I am not responsible for him.
Okay, so, you all voted and I, um, failed? We didn't get to cuddling. There should be cuddling coming? Idk, darlings, this was my third start on this and Danny took over. I've got no say in this anymore. Canon-typical violence, crude language, cross dressing, discussions of prostitution
---
“You think you can fucking play us like that?!”
The shout carried easily through the crisp fall air. Red Hood sighed and changed direction away from his safe house and towards the noise.
“—fuck you up for that! Give us our fucking money back!”
“Fuck you,” snapped back a voice that Jason had come to recognize over the last several months. Right then the words dripped in fake, but damn convincing, heavy Crime Alley drawl, but Jason knew it all the same. “If yous don’t got it, don’t bet it. If yous don’t got game, don’t play it.”
“Yeah, no, I don’t think a little girl like you gets to say how this goes,” a third voice growled.
Hood clung to the edge of the roof just long enough to drop silently into the alleyway next to the dive bar. From the quick glance sent his way he was only noticed by the damn minx, so he leaned casually back against the grimy brick wall and unholstered his gun.
“Right? Yeah! Yeah, bitch! You don’t get to say how this goes!” the first voice shouted again. The guy’s shoulders were squared up as if he was some sort of threat in his overpriced, knock off bomber jacket and ill fitting jeans.
It almost made Jason want to sigh.
Actually, fuck it, Jason gave in and sighed loudly, knowing how it sounded through the modulation of his helmet. Bomber Jacket and his buddy, I Swear This is Real Italian Leather, spun around and then cowered so quick Jason swore they gave themselves whiplash.
“So,” Jason said with every ounce of disinterest he could put in his tone, “how does this go? Because right now, I’m thinking that it’s you two who are gonna be going before I put bullets between your eyes.”
“Right, um, yes Red Hood,” Bomber Jacket cowered and grabbed desperately at his friend’s pleather jacket to pull them out of there.
“And gentleman,” Jason said, making them freeze in their steps, “next time you lose your money to a pretty lady, you leave her the fuck alone about it.”
They nodded frantically as they backed the rest of the way out of alley and then took of running.
“I think you made one of ‘em piss himself,” the minx said, looking from the alley way to Jason with those striking aqua eyes.
Jason just shrugged and holstered his gun. “Probably.”
The short, tight skirt clung to the minx’s legs, pulling up enough with the sashaying steps that Jason had to wonder how everything stayed hidden. He kept still as fingers tipped in bright pink nails walked their way up his chest to the red bat. Aqua peered up from below thick, dark lashes. “And did I hear right? You think I’m a pretty lady?”
“Hair is nice like this,” Jason said brushing a gloved finger through the black strands that just brushed the edges of the chin. “But surprised your cock isn’t hanging out of that skirt with how short it is.”
Danny let out a started laugh, resting his forehead against Jason’s chest for a moment before he patted it and backed up to a more respectable distance.
“Duct tape and body shapers works miracles.” The fake Gotham accent was gone and replaced with the faint Midwestern drawl that Danny only seemed to let out around Red Hood. “And don’t make that face, the duct tape is outside of the panties.”
“You can’t see my face,” Jason pointed out, a bit grumpily because he had been grimacing at the thought.
“I was still right though,” Danny said with a smug little smiling pulling on his cherry red lips. It was a good color on him. He leaned back against the wall and spread his legs in a way that Jason couldn’t help but follow with this gaze. “Everything is fine down there, Boss, just a little squished. Offer’s still on the table if you want to check out the good. No charge for my darlin’ knight.”
Jason snorted at the continued offer from Danny; it was practically as good as ‘bye’ between them at this point since Danny seemed to offer it every time. “I’m not going to be one of your Johns, Danny.”
“Told you no charge. Could just be two people who like sex,” he offered with a little shrug, but pushed himself off the wall to leave. No, Danny pushed himself up off the wall with a wince.
Jason was at his side in an instant. “One of those fuckers get you?”
“No, so no hunting them down,” Danny said. His voice was confident, but the way he actually leaned on Jason’s offered arm was worrying. “Just a bad John— ex John. That’s why I’m sharking pool instead of working the corner.”
As if Danny had to work an actual corner anymore. He appealed to a very specific type of client that could pay to have something pretty and convincing on their arm and still get what they wanted between the legs and in the sheets.
“You taking anything for it?” Jason asked.
Danny just shrugged. “Nah, Boss, nothing over the counter works on me really.”
“Clinic?”
Danny snorted. “As if. They can test for STDs and that’s about as much as I want a clinic near me.”
Jason resisted the urge to cuss at Danny. He got it. After all, he only trusted Leslie or Alfred really— or a family member in a pinch.
Maybe he could just bluster Danny into getting some help. “Right, come on.”
“What?” Danny asked, digging his heels (and fuck those were some heels) into the ground.
Not willing to put with that right then, Jason just swung his arm under Danny’s legs and scooped him up like he was nothing. Fuck the Johns really had to be able to throw Danny around if they wanted that sort of thing.
“Boss, Hood, what the fuck?!” Danny hissed.
“Safe fucking house is what the fuck so I can check you over.”
“Boss, if you wanted in the skirt—”
“Danny, shut the fuck up and let me make sure you’re alright, alright?” Jason asked, looking down at him.
Danny stared back with a frown. Then his sighed, like it was the biggest concession in the world to make. Finally he rested his head against Jason’s chest. “Fine, Boss, whatever you say.”
“Thank you,” Jason said, more gently than he meant to.
-
Jason had to suck in several careful breaths as he took in the wound splashed across Danny’s ribs. “No fucking John did that to you and if they did—” if they took some sort of hot poker to Danny’s side— “I’ll kill them if they did.”
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oukabarsburgblr · 7 months ago
Text
Accidental Kidnapping [Reverse Trope AU]
FEATURING : CANDID MALE (OC) x male reader
How often does one check their car boot? No statistics for that but the same goes for our dearest (m/n) and maybe he should've opened it before driving home, unintentionally bringing an unwilling high-rank mafioso who thought the end of his life was in the trunk of your car.
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reverse trope list (at the bottom), dubcon (on ocs end), con at the end, face riding, shitty inaccurate mafia depiction (i tried) profile
Find out more under the cut!
"Damn it! These guys aren't letting up-"
A bullet shot through the wooden pillar, effectively penetrating the man's head hiding behind it. Shouts and yelling of commands could barely be heard above the rain of gunfire at the entrance of the building.
Unfazed by the death of his associate, an individual crouched beside the waist-level brick wall. Strands of red hair that were loose from his hair bun tickled the nape of his neck, his sharp hazel eyes flickered before throwing a tantō behind him, killing a figure who tried to sneak up on him.
Half of his attire, premium Dolce suit, was drenched in blood, most of it didn't belong to him. His right heavily scarred hand gripping his sword's scabbath, his most famed weapon of choice.
Aito Sousuke.
Capo and a close associate to the underboss of a reknowned criminal organization. His dearest uncle, the caporegime, ordered him to settle a dispute and investigate a scheme their rival gang had carried out on the borders of their territory.
As soon as they had arrived to the building, a shootout occurred. And Sousuke's members retaliated with their own militia. Ultimately, they overpowered the mutts that creeped in on their area.
The redhead stepped over the pile of bodies, the building had an underground lab, his hand brushing over the white packets of powders on the metal table. Drug trafficking? That wasn't new to Sousuke. Did they lack clients in their own protectorate?
As his minions was sweeping out the rooms, one of them yelled in alarm, alerting Sousuke.
"Suicide bomber!"
Flashes of white struck his eyes as Sousuke was propelled to the floor by the explosions around the lab. It was an attempt to cover their tracks, getting rid of evidence in case of a blowout.
"Motherfuckers..."
Sousuke cussed, seeing his body was layered with the white powder that had torn and splattered all over him. Immediately, he threw his jacket off and abandoned the lab, the drugs effects were unknown so he didn't know how much of a danger he was in. He grabbed a piece of document his eyes laid on before abandoning the lab and his screaming minions.
Passing through the alleys, he attempted to make his way back to a safe place, their commute was jacked with bullet holes and Sousuke could feel his body slowly shaking and his legs becoming more heavy.
Reaching the end of the alley, he yelped when he tripped on the curb, his body now suddenly weak as he fell into a carboot that had been conveniently opened and it was closed shut.
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
Sousuke yelled out, banging on the cover of the hood, his surroundings now cramped with metal tools, making him panic even more with his arms suddenly growing limp.
"FUCKING LET ME OUT BEFORE I BLAST YOUR FACE OFF-"
A certain (h/c) hummed to the song he was listening on his headphones, the music blasting shielding your hearing senses, rendering himself unaware of the mafioso he had accidentally locked in the trunk of his car.
(m/n) (l/n) had just finished doing his shopping in a hardware store, buying screws, hammers, etc. to finish his mini renovation of his house. He lived in the suburbs so he had to travel quite far to reach the store. Blissful ignorance had coated him as he hopped inside his car and drove, unknown of the scared redhead in his carboot.
"Shit shit shit-" Sousuke cussed, trying to reach for his phone, he screamed in frustration having losing it in the shootout moments before. Backup is probably focusing on the target building and no one knows where he is currently. How the hell did this fucker got me?
Sousuke thought this guy was ballsy for targeting him, the culprit had to have planned this meticulously if they had managed to kidnap him out of all people.
"What should I have for dinner..." (m/n) hummed, blasting his radio as he turned his corners recklessly. The redhead shouted, his scabbard digging into his side, the side effects of the unknown drug was getting to him. His face getting hot and his body pulsing.
Finally arriving to his house, Sousuke thought it was a second location for torturing-, (m/n) exited his car, slamming his door as he took out a bag of groceries he had purchased as well. He entered his house, almost forgetting his items in the trunk as he left the door open and skipping to back to his car.
"I think tempura with udon should do nicely- WHO THE HELL ARE YOU??!!"
(m/n) screamed, stepping back seeing a redhead inside of his carboot. "HUH?? I SHOULD BE ASKING YOU THAT- WHO DO YOU WORK FOR AND WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!" The redhead screamed back at him, disorderedly searching for something inside of his drenched vest.
Is that blood- (m/n) panicked and reached for his phone to call the cops but the click of a gun stopped his movements as the bloodied stranger aimed the muzzle at him. "No cops." He hissed out, clenching his side.
The (h/c) stared at the muzzle, raising his hands. "...No cops." He repeated after the redhead. "Who are you?" "I-I'm nobody! Literally I have no idea who you are!" "You kidnapped me." Hazel eyes glared hard at him, his messy red hair now loose from his bun and his figure sitting up in the carboot.
"I didn't kidnap you?? YOU SNEAKED INTO MY TRUNK!" The average person would never have the balls to scream at a gun-holding bloodied person but (m/n) was flustered at the accusation of being a kidnapper albeit him only doing his errands.
Sousuke scanned the area, his breath heaving deeper and it was obvious he was far from his gang's territory. Either he was in the rival's or a civvie. He studied the (h/c), who was only wearing some long-sleeved shirt and slacks. This guy really tried to pretend he was normal-
"Fuckk-" He moaned in pain, the throbbing in his side worsening and the burn in his head increasing. Sousuke looked to the side and saw the open door of the suburban building. "That's your hideout?"
"Hideout-? YOU MEAN MY FUCKING HOUSE??" "Shut up. I need it. Help me inside." "And why would I do that?!" (m/n) yelled exasperated, his arms tired for holding it up for so long. Sousuke frowned. "You're willing to let your captive die? And here's this."
The redhead waved the gun in his hand, his finger resting on the trigger. (m/n) contemplated his choices, staring at the glock and the scabbard he just noticed underneath his hand.
Unwillingly, the (h/c) helped the redhead, supporting him as they walked inside his house while he loudly complained about Sousuke staining his shirt with blood and that he wasn't a kidnapper. The redhead was annoyed and was dumbfounded on how someone was casually cursing and yelling at him.
As they stepped in and Sousuke forcefully closing the door shut, he groaned, the weight of the drug crashing down on him as he knocked over a lamp and stumbling in the living room. "That's brand new..." He heard (m/n) whining about his broken lamp.
"I...I need first aid. Now." His head was hot and he feel like he could die at any time, his heart beating irregularly and his legs spasming. "Don't you need a hospital instead-" (m/n) immediately swooped in, holding Sousuke's body up when he suddenly went limp, he just noticed his scorching temperature and his shivering body. "Woah, did you get poisoned or something?"
Hazel met (e/c) as Sousuke weakly gazed at (m/n), his bottom lip quivering, his eyes dazed and his face red. "Poison...?" He suddenly remembered the document he had snatched before escaping the building. "The drugs-" "DRUGS-?!" The redhead numbed out the rest of (m/n)'s words as he hurriedly searched for the paper, crumpled near his scabbard as his blurry eyes tried to scan the words on it.
"Shit shit- hey don't fucking die here!" Sousuke went limp in (m/n)'s hold, the (h/c) unable to hold up his dead weight, laid him on the sofa, Sousuke barely conscious as he was draped out on the furniture.
(m/n) noticed the paper and grabbed it, reading its contents out loud. "-new batch, target audience in the upper-tiered , target victims for sex trafficking??" The (h/c) glanced at the redhead, disgusted. "It's not me, you fucking idiot-" Sousuke coughed as he wiped his face, blood dripping from his nose. (m/n) fastened his reading, seeing the red liquid.
"-registering a small dose can be considered lethal, effects include muscle spasms, heightened senses, drowsiness, nausea, increased libido?? If not treated, symptoms will lead to a HEART ATTACK??!"
The (h/c) clenched the paper in his hands, the stranger had almost half of the effects already. "Are you in the fucking mafia or something-" He paused, remembering the sword and the gun the redhead held which was now on the floor. There's no way.... No way that a mafia member was now in his house, dying on his couch.
Sousuke let out unintelligible noises, something of a groan with saliva mixed as he laid on his side, his face flushed. (m/n) was now desperate to cure him or something, he didn't want to face the consequences of a gang chasing after him thinking he killed their member.
"-no treatment has been developed-" FUCK. "-as the victim must ejaculate to rid of the effects in his bodily system-" HUH? (m/n) reached the end of the paper, crumbling it in frustration, his eyes wide, contemplating whether should he just let the stranger die here in his living room.
Sousuke was convinced he was going to die here. His vision was wet and blurry, tears slipping out and his face was burning so much he felt he was going to melt at any second. He doesn't have any regrets he could come up with at the moment. Only the thought of his father laid in his mind along with his uncle.
Feeling his shirt shifting, he moaned when his pants were pulled down as he struggled to focus his eyesight. "Wuh-?" "Wake up. I'm gonna help you so don't kill me after this." The supposed kidnapper was snapping his fingers in his face, catching his focus. Why does he look embarrassed?
"The drug you took- roofied? I don't know but it's gonna kill you if you let it sit any longer in your system. You have to flush it out before you have a heart attack." "...So do I have to piss it out or what?" Sousuke felt drowsy while giving out half-assed answers. The (h/c) looked exasperated.
"Y-You have to...cum it out?"
Sousuke felt his breath stopped as he squinted his eyes at the (h/c) who looks flustered and waving the document trying to explain himself. "Is this your attempt at molesting me?" "FUCK NO!"
A gasp escaped Sousuke as his bloody nose dripped even more, he coughed out while his chest was heaving. "D- Just do whatever-" He groaned as he clutched his head in pain. "You better not kill me for this." His kidnapper grumbled while shuffling down Sousuke's wide pants, looking away as he tugged his briefs down.
"A-aanh mmff!"
The redhead covered his mouth, surprised at the sudden pleasure when a hand tugged his erect penis and began stroking it with a fast pace. "That fucking hurts-!"
"Just go through with it!" (m/n) yelled, mumbling an apology as he jacked off the redhead slower, he couldn't believe he's touching someone's bare dick, much less a mafia dude, to save his life out of all situations.
If the redhead died here, the police would've questioned how the hell did he end up in his house in the first place along with the drug in his system and a crime organization would've been after him the second that news spilled and who knows who they're in kahoots with.
Hence, why (m/n) decided to assist this stranger danger in masturbating so he could kick him out the second his life isn't threatened by some weird sex drug.
"You're enjoying this a bit too much..." (m/n) mumbled, now gazing at the redhead who was crying and moaning while bucking his hips up every time the (h/c)'s hand squeezed his base, precum dripping down his cock.
The redhead's head was fuzzy, the rush of pleasure coursing through his veins and he tried to keep his moans muffled. Tears slipping out of his eyes even more at the sensual gratification as his 'kidnapper' jacked him off. He felt his body was so sensitive, his thighs trembling and his body twitching.
(m/n) was frowning, sitting on the edge of the couch, trying his best to distract himself as he pumped the- , he just noticed how big it is, -cock in his hand. The moaning redhead on his couch wasn't helping either as he felt arousal strike his pants. His cheeks were hot, the mafioso's expression was a sight to see, his tanned skin red and wet from tears and sweat. Fuck was he always this handsome?
"S-Shit- mmngg ahh!"
He didn't realise how close he was to the redhead until the redhead came, semen spurting from his cock and few bits landed on his face. (m/n) stroked him for a while longer, letting him ride out his orgasm as he wiped his face clean.
Sousuke's body trembled, better than earlier when he was shaking almost like convulsing, his mind blank as he felt his legs slack. A blanket draped over his bottom half as the 'kidnapper' walked over to him, crouching near his face.
"Your temperature seems better. Guess it really did work." Wiping the redhead's face with a wet rag, picking off the blood near his nose as he pressed another cloth on his neck, cooling it down manually. (m/n) flinched when the redhead leaned into his touch who was enjoying the cool, he shyed away as he continued to wipe down the stranger.
Is this considered aftercare?
He wondered as he took the first aid kit and placed it on the coffee table in front of the redhead. "Take this and get out of here."
Sousuke only blinked up at him, now drowsy as he closed his eyes shut, forgetting all the dangers of sleeping in his 'kidnapper's' home as he fell into a slumber. His body was now relaxed, only a few bruises from the gunfight and his scabbard jammed into his side earlier.
"Remember- I HELPED YOU!" (m/n) screamed into the sleeping man's ear as he went to wash his hands in his sink, scrubbing it ferverently. He did his chores, closing his carboot which was left open the entire time, and tried to scrub out blood on his rug and furniture the redhead had left behind.
He might need to get a whole new sofa, the previously pristine furniture now stained with red and possibly baby batter.
(m/n) tried to put trust that the stranger would leave as soon as he woke up, believing at the fact that there was a misunderstanding where he thought the (h/c) tried to kidnap him so it makes sense that he would want to leave right? After he had oh so graciously saved his life?
His words were true when a couple of hours later, he heard his front door open and closed while he had barricaded himself in his bedroom with a baseball bat while reading through a novel, waiting for the stranger to leave.
Images of the redhead moaning and crying still lingered in his mind as it fueled his shameful arousal, (m/n) cussing on why someone who was possibly dangerous had to be so handsome.
-
"How are you, my nephew?"
A tall man, with short slicked back red hair clasped the shoulder of his supposed nephew who bore a similar colour in their tresses only Sousuke's were longer and was left to drape on his clothed back.
"I feel better now, sir. I thank you for your concern." Sousuke had been recovering at his uncle's estate, who was his caporegime, aka his boss, who was worried hearing his own flesh and blood had gone off the radar for a whole day and finding him injured and flustered at the borders of their territory.
"My assistant found the man you were looking into. Although it's a wonder why you're suddenly interested in him." He gestured to the file on the table besides them. Sousuke picking it up and flipping through the contents. "You did a good job at busting out the rats' lab, albeit our boys received a number on their amount."
Their organization had strict rules in their territory, which was how they maintained their influence over their city. So when rumours flew that drugs that were not in their regulations were being passed out in their district, they suspected it was sabotage. And it was, a new sex drug that was tested on their turf, to be used for malicious deeds. And Sousuke so happened to experienced it face to face.
"Do we have any dirt on him?" Sousuke questioned, skimming through the texts.
"No." The old man puffed a smoke, his expensive suit hugging his body while Sousuke was donning a loose haori. He was the only one who would wear traditional Japanese outfits despite being in a foreign country. It was a tribute to his mother who contributed to his half-Japanese genetics.
"Looks like a civvie. Recently moved to the out of city suburbs after graduating. Parents are clean. Never contacted any of our boys too."
Sousuke glared at the picture, the small photo of a man smiling. His eyes read the name. (m/n) (l/n). So he wasn't really a kidnapper... The redhead ordered for a background check of the (h/c), thinking he was still someone out to kidnap him but let him go for who knows why. Although his footman was confused when he described him in odd details, mentioning a nice body, pretty (e/c) eyes, etc..
It caught the attention of his uncle, so he did it for him.
"Has he done anything to you?"
The old man would kill anyone who would touch a single strand of his boy, his nephew, although they lived dangerous lives and Sousuke had proven himself to become a caporegime, he still looks out for his flesh and blood.
"...No, sir."
The hesitation was clear in Sousuke's voice. So it was a misunderstanding? A coincidence that he had landed in the car trunk and driven off to a secondar location which was (m/n)'s home?
Sousuke couldn't forget his touch. His fingers stroking and jacking off his cock, squeezing his base. He wasn't one to divulge in sexual desires, he was raised that lust was a weakness so for someone like him to experience that, it was a change for him.
-
(m/n) definitely felt like he was stalked.
A week had passed since that...incident. And he was relieved to find that the mysterious suit-wearing redhead didn't appear in his surroundings, giving him a sense of peace that he lucked out and the mafia was not after his ass.
Until he started noticing a minor detail.
A car was parked two blocks down from his house. He thought it belonged to the neighbours, but he had just noticed it would disappear every time he returned from his errands and would linger whenever he was home. He suspected it was the redhead.
Is he here for revenge? After I jacked him off?
(m/n) groaned into his palm, seeing that the car was still there as he walked up to his porch, carrying a few grocery bags.
Those bags fell to his floor when he caught sight of a man sitting on his furniture, his posture relaxed like he had been waiting for him. "YOU AGAIN?!" He screamed at the redhead.
Said stranger only frowned, crossing his arms, no guns or swords in sight. "If you keep hiding your key under your welcome rug, even a toddler can sneak into your house." (m/n) flinched at his words, as he walked straight past the man to set his bags on the kitchen island, ignoring how he followed him behind.
"You bought a new couch?" The redhead asked, tilting his head. (m/n) noted that he seemed to be a lot less of a screamer when he was sober. "Couldn't get the bloodstains out." He huffed. Or the cum spots as well.
That took a pretty penny out of his pocket. "...I could've paid for it." The (h/c) glanced at him weirdly as he closed his refrigerator door. "No need. I don't want to be associated with you." "You saved my life." "No need to remind me." "It was brave of you to-"
He slapped his hand over the redhead's mouth, his palm brushing against his lips. "I said no need for reminders. Hell, I don't even know your name and what you did. Why did you come here?" The redhead was silent, before gently pushing (m/n)'s hand away.
"The name's Sousuke."
The warm kitchen light complimented him well, (m/n) noticing his heavily scarred hands and his upper lip was nicked. His long red hair, resting on his back, he was wearing a black button up, a grey vest and matching pants.
"I'm here to settle my score."
(m/n) furrowed his eyebrows. "What score?" "My score with you." "I don't want a reward or anything like that. Just leave me alone." Sousuke's grip on his hand tightened. "I assumed the worst from you and was convinced you tried to harm me but instead you saved my life. I am indebted."
"You did fell into my trunk and I didn't notice so I think it's fair." Sousuke frowned at that. It was normal for people like him to repay their debts and he was confused why (m/n) was rejecting him. "Do you know how I work?" "I can guess but like I said, I don't want to be associated."
Sousuke fell silent before he turned around and walked away. "My men will provide protection for you. At least until my debt is repaid." "I don't need it!" "You do. You look weak." "FUCK YOU??"
(m/n) was about to throw a vase at the redhead before said redhead had exited his house, closing his door. He hurriedly went to lock it and screamed in annoyance. Am I going to have more scary people following me now or what?
That's close to what happened. (m/n) noticed that scary men would follow close to him and it would be different people on a different day and they followed him almost everywhere. He caught them blending in the crowd, sipping drinks when he was relaxing at a cafe of pretending to go through the cereal section when he was shopping for the week's restock.
He had enough of it.
"Tell your fucking boss that I don't want his stupid protection!" He confronted one of the man when he slipped into an alleyway to corner him, said man only stayed silent and nodded before (m/n) left him.
The next day, he received a gift. An expensive table lamp that didn't suit the rest of his aesthetic but he remembered that Sousuke did broke one of his lamps. He used it in his bedroom's bedside table instead.
"Can you at least tell me when you're going to sneak into my house?" He scowled, seeing the redhead at his kitchen island, casually flipping through a comic book he owned as he sipped a cup of coffee.
"I see you carry your keys now." "Yeah. So how the hell did you get in?" "Spare." "MOTHERFUCKER-"
A few weeks passed by and this had become his new norm. Sousuke would drop in his house, every few nights or so, claiming that he needed somewhere to stay low even though all he did was lounge in the living room flipping through tv channels.
(m/n) at first was irked by this, threatening to kick him out or call the cops but he got used to it and sometimes would even make extra dinner so the redhead wouldn't finish his.
Sometimes, Sousuke would come in bloodied and that scared (m/n), him remembering who he was dealing with but the demeanour he carried was so different than the man he was supposed to be.
His words were straightforward and tone bland, he only seemed mad when he thought (m/n) was trying to kidnap him and now he was gentle? No, it was more like he was relaxed around the (h/c).
"Do you have a hairtie? I lost mine."
And somehow, (m/n) felt like he has a roommate now, buying stuffs that he thought Sousuke would need them such as more bandages or hairties or claw clips for his long hair. Slowly, he felt like he could call themselves friends with how often the redhead was around him.
Sousuke never brought the whole drug thing after that, not even mentioning it in the slightest and (m/n) was confused. Shouldn't he be mad that someone helped him masturbate when he was drugged? Was this normal for him??
And sometimes in the late nights, (m/n) would think about his twitching hips, his wet crying face and his guttural desperate moans and his large cock- He would get hard at times. Looking away whenever Sousuke gazed at him a bit too long, moving to a different room when he felt that the redhead touched him too casually.
He caught his face flushed a couple times and he didn't know what to make of it, only shoving it deep in the back of his mind. Into the vault it goes.
It was one of those nights, where Sousuke would randomly appear in his house and they would eat dinner together, with civil oddly enough.
"I'm trying to get the heater for my shower working again but I might need to contact my realtor for that since it happened way before I moved here." (m/n) rambled, slurping the noodles he had made as Sousuke wiped the edge of his mouth with his hands.
"Mhm. So what are you going to do next?" He would listen to the (h/c) long conversations, only chipping in an answer or two since he couldn't exactly contribute much to the talk as his life was far from a civvie's. His uncle was beginning to question why the hell did he spent so many time out of their domain.
Sousuke kept telling himself that he wanted to repay his debt, watching over him until he saved the (h/c)'s life in a similar manner to how (m/n) did but truthfully, he wanted to stick around. The peace he had around (m/n) was bliss compared to the havoc he had been born and raised in his crime-filled life.
And he couldn't help but think he was starting to fall for the (h/c), their petty arguments, their meals together was healing his soul. He couldn't help but think to that incident, the sinful pleasure (m/n) had brought him, his hand wrapped around his cock, he tried to recreate it by himself but it could never suffice.
There is the fact that the drug did amped the libido effects but he didn't want anything nor anyone else to do it, except for (m/n). But he didn't know if the (h/c) even desired for him. With his ugly scarred body.
Now here they were, sitting next together on the couches as a movie played in front of them, (m/n) focusing on the screen while Sousuke paid no mind and opted to subtly stare at the (h/c) instead, his eyes lingering on his lips and darting away when he caught sight of his (s/c) skin from the collar line of his shirt.
"F-Fuck, you're so good to me!"
(m/n) quickly grabbed the remote, speeding the movie up when a sex scene appeared. Anything sexual related was heavily avoided by the (h/c) whenever he was around Sousuke.
"Do you...abhor these things?" (m/n) raised an eyebrow at Sousuke's sudden question. "What?" The redhead pointed at the tv. "Action movies?" "Sex." He choked on his saliva, patting his chest as he calmed himself down. "I don't think much of it. Why the hell are you asking me that?"
Sousuke was silent, his hazel eyes not meeting (m/n)'s as he stared at the tv. "I don't...divulge in it. Not as much as the average person do." But every mafia movies always had girls around them. (m/n) wondered, cupping his chin.
"It was my first that I was touched. In this room." (e/c) eyes widened as he turned to the redhead. "That was your first time??" When (m/n) had stroked his dick...that was his first time ever doing so?
"I was taught lust is for the weak." Sousuke turned to (m/n), his face holding a monotone expression although something dark was in his eyes. "...Yet my strength wavers around you."
Heat crawled up his neck as (m/n) covered his mouth with his hand. Is this- a confession?! When he turned around, Sousuke's face was close. So close that their breaths mingled and his red hair was brushing against his face. The redhead's ears were bright red, complimenting his tanned skin.
"I want more." He whispered, his eyes dazed with desire.
(m/n) was stunned, his lips slowly moved to speak. "Are you drunk?" "I'm sober." Sousuke's hand moved to grip his thigh. "And I want you. Please." He spoke in such a low manner as he delved his face into the (m/n)'s shoulders, his breathing hot and heavy.
The (h/c) felt his arousal rise, his face flushed and biting his lower lip. Sousuke's body was heavy on his and he could feel all the muscle lying underneath. "J-Just this once, okay?"
Sousuke slowly pulled back as he gazed into (e/c), his face completely red as he gently pressed his lips onto (m/n)'s.
-
"Like this?"
A slurping noise struck and (m/n)'s moans followed. "Y-Yeah you can take it in deeper- mmff!" His pants were gone, his bottom bare and Sousuke was taking his cock in his mouth, the latter saying he wanted to try everything out and the second on his list was a blowjob.
Sousuke moved his throat further in, taking more of (m/n)'s dick as he calmly breathed in through his nose. His tongue swiping at the base of the penis, pressing and feeling its veins with his wet muscle, unintentionally applying light pressure which further pleasured the (h/c).
They were on the couch, a hilarious parallel as (m/n) laid on the other end with Sousuke pulling his hips up, pushing his face deep in between his thighs. His mouth sucked (m/n)'s cock, alternating between being gentle and full-on milking his precum, the (h/c) screaming having being so stimulated.
"Aanghh ah ah s-stop! You're so rough- mmff!"
Sousuke pulled himself off with a pop, gazing down at the sweaty (h/c) whose shirt was pushed down, revealing his (s/c) torso. The redhead's nose brushed (m/n)'s thigh and he bit into it, sucking and licking the mark making the (h/c) cry out.
"You good?" (m/n) nodded, taking in deep breaths. "Y-Yeah. Haa haa..." "I want to do one of those numbers." "Numbers?" He hummed. "Was it 127? Or 68?" "You mean a 69?" "Whatever it was I want to try it." The (h/c) readied himself. If this proclaimed virgin really tired him out at his first blowjob, he couldn't imagine him eating his ass out.
"Okay- ah!"
-
(m/n) was crying, his legs shaking as he tried his best to lick the dick in his face, only able to give the tip a messy kiss before crumbling on Sousuke's torso.
The redhead was having the time of his life, spitting, fingering, thrusting his tongue in (m/n)'s asshole, playing with his puckered hole until the (h/c) began to cry on his cock, choking and gagging saliva all over his penis as he numbly thrusted into (m/n)'s mouth.
"T-Too much mmngghh urgh angh mmn!" He sobbed out, feeling one of Sousuke's knuckles rubbing his rim while the tip of his fingers were pressing against his sensitive walls, trying to find his prostate.
Easily pulling him up, Sousuke pushed (m/n), letting him grip onto his arms for balance as he forced the (h/c) to sit on his face. His nose brushing his ass crack and his tongue massaging his balls. (m/n) tried to raise himself only for his thighs to be pulled back down and gripped tightly as Sousuke ate his ass out.
His butt was dripping with saliva and precum by the time Sousuke released him, he heaved and whimpered while the redhead held him close, wrapping his arms around him and shoving his tongue down his throat, drawing more of those cries that he realised he loves so much.
-
The (h/c) refused to believe that Sousuke was a virgin. Not with how he pushed his legs up to his chest, his knees touching his shoulders while sloppily fucking him up, pressing his full weight on the (h/c).
Sousuke wanted to see his face while they commit this sin, his face hot as he licked (m/n)'s salty tears, kissing his eyes and nose and he bit his earlobe too.
"S-So good! You're fucking me so good, Sousuke- aanggh!" He cried out, digging his nails in the redhead's clothed shoulder whose hair was now free and framing his face, intensifying the look of pleasure on the redhead.
"I'm glad- aanhh mmng! You're so hot, (m/n). So fucking handsome- hngg ahh!" He praised the (h/c), tears slipping out of his hazel eyes while moaning ardently into the (h/c)'s ear. His hips met (m/n)'s ass at a fast pace, wet squelches filled the living room as the sofa was slowly stained again with disgusting baby batter.
(e/c) eyes rolled to the back of his head as he clenched himself around Sousuke, feeling his orgasm pull through as his cum stained his own stomach and Sousuke's shirt. The redhead came as well, seeing (m/n)'s expression as he defiled the (h/c)'s ass for the third time that night.
Cum dripped out of the rim of his ass, Sousuke pulled out to see the naked (h/c) trembling under him, his cheeks wet with tears, his chin coated with drool and his skin littered with hickies and bitemarks in contrast with himself, Sousuke was still fully clothed except for his exposed crotch as he felt his knees almost buckling from the intense sex they had.
"Y-You're a liar. You're definitely not a dumb v-virgin." (m/n) pointed to Sousuke, his finger shaking while the redhead only hoisted the (h/c) onto his back, intending to carry him upstairs into bed. "I'm not lying." He almost stumbled down the staircase, quickly holding onto the wooden rail as he pulled himself and (m/n) up and recklessly staggered into the master bedroom, crashing onto the lush bed.
His legs were shaking lightly, this was truly his first and overboard was a statement of his performance. Sousuke laid like a starfish on a bed, pulling (m/n) under his armpit while grabbing a duvet and covering them both.
"We'll clean up in the morning. Now sleep." He shushed the (h/c) who was about to retort, immediately succumbing to slumber, not even giving a second to stay awake any longer as the post-sex was as tiring as it is.
(m/n) frowned, adjusting himself under Sousuke's hold, letting himself drift to sleep as well. This might not be the last time he lets Sousuke fuck his body. Who knows, maybe getting involved with a mafioso isn't all that bad.
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[END SCENE]
[unedited]
Afterthoughts:
Sousuke a munch frfr
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I'm aware of the similarities in Daisuke's and Sousuke's names- ITS RELEVANT TO FUTURE PLOT OK
This fic kinda sucks ngl💀
I'm a PARENT atp for feeding you guys for the past two weeks since i made this acc😭
If i have to write a part 2, i would either write about how m/n got upset and ran away to sulk and smutty sex scene next or just them messing around w the sex drug (some bdsm???) HOHO comment for more ya sluts.
Oh and follow my tag pretty please
more of aito sousuke! 𖤓
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anakinsdove · 7 months ago
Note
Sub sam monroe x fem friends hot older sister ❔
𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞
pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader
summary: it’s been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he’s still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn’t there before.
c/w: nsfw, loser Sammy, blowjob
discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 2-
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。Love you
𝘄/𝗰 - 1,352
“What’s that for?” You ask your little rat of a brother why he’s suddenly carrying enough snacks to throw a party.
“Sam is coming over, he’s going to spend the night here” Your brother says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Who?” “Sam” he rolls his eyes “Oh! Sammy, blonde, walks weird?” “Yes…” he’s slightly confused at your description then he realizes you haven’t seen Sam in a while…. A long while?
“He dyed his hair” your brother ads “Seriously?” You say sarcastically clearly faking interest trying to find something worth watching on tv “And he walks normally” “I’m sure he does”
“Anyways aren’t you a little bit too old for sleepovers?” Your condescending tone is very annoying to your brother but that’s what sisters do. “Aren’t you too old for Halloween?” “Huh?” Your brother smirks pointing at your makeup, you respond by throwing the pillow on the couch with enough force it feels like a brick, he runs upstairs
“coward” you mutter to yourself and suddenly someone’s knocking on the door
Someone’s knocking extremely loud
You decide to ignore it as you keep painting your nails but the knocking is very persistent and it gets louder somehow accidentally painting your toe “fucking loser” you curse under your breathe and stand up walking furiously towards the door.
“What!?” Your tone is harsh and the boy takes a step back, Sam looks stupid as he makes sure he’s in the right house “I-is James here?”
“Sam?” You ask softly this time, your anger quickly dissipating from your features, eyeing him up and down… wow.
“Hi Y/N”
You open the door for him to come in as he awkwardly goes through the door, he tries to keep his hips as far he can from yours while walking in, you sigh at the awkward silence
“How have you been-“ “You look very different-“ both of you say at the same time “You look the same” he says “I looks twelve?” God you’re making fun of him
Hes about to answer when your brother comes down running from the stairs “Sorry dude I was taking a shit!” He greets him as you stand aside
“Don’t talk to her Sam” your brother says smirking “Shut up man” they run upstairs and you shrug trying to shake the awkwardness away
You keep trying to distract yourself with tv but it isn’t fucking working
Sam Monroe….
He looked so different from what you remembered, he’s taller, there’s a lot of piercings stuff on his face and you’re pretty sure he was wearing eyeshadow.. his hair now it’s black… funny because you remembered him being blonde and looking like a puppet, you giggle at the thought… Oh! and his clothes, he was wearing a Metallica t shirt, Vintage….
You moan and you realize you been rubbing your clit through your panties this whole time then gasping in embarrassment and closing your legs
What a slut… what if someone saw you rubbing your cloth on your living room, that would be a reason to kill yourself, what if Sam saw you like that?… that however doesn’t sound as bad
Control yourself Y/n
A few hours later the sun has set… you succeeded distracting yourself and as soon as Sam leaves you won’t have to see him again you’ll forget this awkward chapter in your life where you masturbated to the thought of your younger brother’s friend until… “Why me man!?” “Cause I’m about to win this level” “Youre shit at the game” “Shut up!” you hear the boys arguing upstairs “It’s just fucking popcorn Sam” your brother mocks him as Sam sighs coming down the stairs
You can’t help but look up at him “Hey” Sam stops midway “Hey” he tries to sound and look relaxed, but when did your boobs get so big?
“Pop corn?” You asks pointing at the box he’s holding in his hand “I’ll burn them” he says
“It’ll be my brothers fault” you laugh and Sam smiles “C’mon” you guide him to the kitchen and put the popcorn in the stove “You look very different too” he responds to your earlier conversation, you smirk at the opportunity of teasing “Really? I thought I looked twelve” “Fuck no” he suppresses a laugh and you nod playfully “Well, maybe a little” “Fuck off” you push him playfully and his back makes contact with the counter “You still have your dimples when you smile” your heart actually softens at his comment “You don’t look like a puppet anymore” he rolled his eyes “I meant that in some ways you look the same but in other- other ways you look very different” he stares at you collarbone
“Sam?” You take a step forward “It’s mean to look at girls boobs when they’re talking” he freezes “I was not-“ you grab his bicep “I always knew you liked me” Sam is really about to die or kill himself, whatever is option is quicker… instead he grabs your waits and pulls you to him then freezes again “You want to kiss me Sammy?” His gaze switches from your eyes to your lips, to your boobs that look so good in that thank top, then your lips again, his lips hesitantly meet you in a clumsy kiss… but then you find out he’s so hungry for this, teeth clatter and he hums into your mouth, his hands shaking as he holds your waist…. You pull away teasingly as he tries to chase your lips but you have other plans like kissing his neck
“Fuck” he moans, his little sound has you clenching your thighs, you need this boy asap…as you nibble and suck his neck then pulling away again “Sam” “What?” He says breathlessly
“Can I suck you off?” WHAT THE FUCK he nodds shakily and you get on your knees “J-James?” Sam’s says as he watches you unbuckle his belt “Don’t talk about my fucking brother when I’m going to give you a blowjob” “Sorry..” “He’s playing, he wont find out.” You try to reassure this poor boy as he nods shakily “I promise” you unzip his pants and take his boxers down urgently, it’s too much, you hear the popcorn popping, heavy breathe, the waves crashing distantly… his cock slapped against his stomach… Sam looks down at you in awe
You start stroking him, watching the angry red tip leaking already, “w-wait wait I’m gonna c-cum” Sam warns virgins you think to yourself and force yourself to stop stroking him, if he’s gonna fucking cum he’s cumming down your throath tonight “fine” you say angrily and take him down your throat “Fuck!” Sam moans as his shaky hand tangles in your hair pushing you down further “I can’t I can’t I’m sorry” his eyes roll back and his back arches, your wet lips wrapping around his thick cock…. Sucking him sloppy it’s just so much
He doesn’t know why god is on his side tonight but he’s not complaining, he beats himself mentally, he seeing stars, fireworks exploding behind his eyes and all that cringy shit he once heard, now he knows it’s real, he feels your tongue massaging the underside of his cock and you make something with your tongue where it licks at his balls slightly and-
“Fuck!” He yells as he cums…. Thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throath, he tastes salty…
Your doe eyes look up at him seductively as you keep licking his tip, his legs tremble as he spasms, he has to push you away so he doesn’t pass out
You finally release his cock from your mouth “breathe Sammy….” “Fuck sorry I-“ his breathe is heavy “Shhh….” You kiss his lips softly so he tastes his own cum…..
“You’re sleeping here right?” He nodds
“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” he nodds again and you know this boy is completely at your mercy
“Oh and Sammy….. your popcorn” you point to the stove and evident smoke “Shit!” Sam runs and trips over his pants, pulling them up quickly and trying to not burn your damn house.
masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.
dividers - @i92-93
(Im very sorry for the absence! I been pretty much busy and a little unmotivated to write but I’ll try to post another fic this week, this was a little bit rushed but I hope you like it)
@anakinsbbgirl
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peonysgreenhouse · 7 months ago
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-`♡´- return.
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summary: the obey me datables & luke react to mc coming back to life!
tags: obey me datables (simeon, solomon, diavolo, barbatos) x gn!reader, luke & gn!reader, hurt/comfort, implied character death, mentions of violence in solomon's parts, solomon goes a little crazy teehee
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i. simeon
he sees you there, in the celestial realm. he had known your soul was pure from the very beginning, but seeing you among the angels was like a knife to his gut, a reminder of his failures to protect you. 
you weren’t supposed to be here, not now, at least. it was far too early for you to die. simeon can’t help but feel bitterness well up within him as you turn from michael to look for someone in the crowd (he knew it was him. he hoped it was him).
your features light up – simeon feels his heart skip a beat. even now you were just as he last remembered you, he had always taken the time to visit you in the devildom, even after his internship was over. you more beautiful than any angel he had ever seen. 
you embrace him tight, and the tighter you squeeze the more he feels like he can’t breathe, the combating feelings waging a war in his mind. he should’ve been watching over you; what kind of guardian angel was he to let his human die like this?
“i’m sorry,” he doesn’t know why his voice cracks when he says it. simeon? losing his composure? he had garnered many millennia of years of experience working to keep it up. “i’m sorry i didn’t protect you.”
“it’s okay simeon,” he feels your hands squeeze the back of his cloak. a wicked thought crosses his mind; maybe if you dug your nails in harder he would have some penance for his failures. if you cut through the bone and marrow and reached his heart then maybe his father would forgive him – maybe you would forgive him for his short-comings. “i’m here now.”
“right,” he breathes you in as if to convince himself. simeon feels the strength of his bond with you overwhelm him, he can feel how much you care for him and he feels his chest fill with warmth, chasing away his guilt, if for the moment. “you’re here forever. with me. nothing can hurt you here, i promise.”
ii. luke
luke had always told you to be mindful of demons, that they were evil creatures who would take any opportunity to kill you. it had seemed that his warning had proved true in the worst way. if only he hadn’t been a cherub; if uriel had promoted him to be your guardian angel like he had asked, maybe this could’ve been avoided.
but he was overwhelmed with how happy he was at the fact that you would be spending time with him forever in the celestial realm. he had wanted nothing more ever since you had become friends in the devildom. you were the one light for him in the exchange program.
“you’re here!” luke chirps, sprinting down the golden bricks of the road to the archangels’ house. “you’re really–!” you’re suddenly enveloped in a hug as luke wraps himself around your waist. 
“hello luke!” you smile from ear to ear, ruffling up his neat hair. usually, he’d make a comment about you not treating him like a child, but for now it seems he’s too busy nuzzling into you. “it’s good to see you again.”
“yes! i’m happy to see you,” he pulls away, cheeks visibly flushed. “i’m sorry that i wasn’t there to protect you from those mean old demons but… everything will be fine now that you’re here!”
“would you like to give them a tour of the celestial realm?” michael chimes in with a smile, the younger angel’s eyes lighting up like a christmas tree.
luke nods excitedly, taking your hand in his, already tugging you out of the estate: “we have so much to do! we can’t waste any time!”
iii. solomon
solomon spirals hard.
there was a reason solomon pushed everyone away, why most people in his life were kept an arms length apart. he got too attached to things; to power, to magic, to anything that gave him that needed adrenaline rush… why would you be any different? you, the only person he has ever loved had been snatched out of his hands.
and worst of all, he had been powerless to save you. 
all the magic and demon pacts and connections in the world couldn’t stop you from bleeding out in his arms. humans like you were much too fragile for his liking; he had worked tirelessly his whole life to be anything but.
if he couldn’t get what he wanted from the damned, he would have to turn his eyes to the celestial realm. if he had to tear down the heavens and bring you crashing back down to earth, he’s sure he would. 
making bonds with angels was much more difficult than that of demons, but he found after nights of endless research that plucking a few of their feathers would get them to sing. 
he’s covered in golden ichor when he manages to bring you back – a life for a life. he finally was able to do it, not only to bring a human back to life, but to bring you back. solomon rises, shakily, as you feel your body materialize out of the magic sigil etched into the floor. he smiles gently, looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered.
so why do you look back at him with such horror?
iv. diavolo
he had bargained with the archangels before, but never for a life.
in all accounts, a human choosing to leave the celestial realm and go to the devildom was unheard of. being cast out of heaven was notoriously the worst punishment anyone could receive.
but you do, you would always choose him over all the luxuries and beauty of the heavens every single time. it was true that love made people do stupid things.
michael sends you back to the devildom months after diavolo’s terms were set, a gift with the price of owing the ruler of the celestial realm a favor. michael was known for his kindness, but diavolo knew that there was more to him than that. he was smart enough to know that michael would never jeopardize the devildom, but angels never forgot debts owed. it was a risk, but one diavolo had no choice but to take. 
above all the benevolence and good-will he draped himself in, at his core, he was a selfish demon; perhaps moreso than anyone else in the devildom. 
he holds you against his chest the whole night. in the morning, he’d have duties and meetings to go to. but for now, you were his. 
“little one,” he mumbles into your hair, hands tight around your waist, “make a pact with me. that you may be at my side forevermore.”
v. barbatos
in so many other timelines he sees you, shining, alive. he starts to resent the other versions of himself for being happy with you (or even worse, happy with any of the others). barbatos could pull you out as easily as he could breathe; he had a mastery over his powers that other lower demons could only imagine. 
but it wouldn’t be the same, he reminds himself, it wouldn’t be his version of you. 
he knew the way to get you back, it’d be to break his own rule: do not interact with the past. diavolo had given him permission to bring you back, it would be a stain on the exchange student program if one of the humans came back dead after the second semester. but he wasn’t so sure, what if the you he brought back wasn’t the you he remembered? 
barbatos does it anyways, knowing he can’t refuse an order from his lord. the you in the celestial realm will be erased from existence replaced with the you of the past, the one who doesn’t know what it’s like to die. the two can only hope it doesn’t cause drama in the celestial realm.
“barbatos?” you question as you walk in the gardens with him, completely oblivious to it all. if he hadn’t been so happy that you had returned, he would feel guilty for not telling you of your death. sometimes, ignorance was bliss. “are you okay? you seem more quiet than usual.”
“do i?” he muses, forcing a soft smile for you. “i’m afraid i’m simply just a bit tired. sleep evaded me last night.” the last part wasn’t a lie.
“sorry to hear that,” you pout, “if you want to go nap, you should!
“do you not wish to spend time with me?”
“it’s not that…” you kick at the ground, arms crossed behind your back. “it’s just we have all the time in the world though, right? i want you to be rested when we’re together.”
he feels as if you’ve struck him with an arrow to his chest. barbatos sees your lifeless body in his mind, did you know and were trying to taunt him? or were you simply just this sweet?
“i suppose you’re right.” he nods his head, “but you’re coming with me.”
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lxvvie · 3 months ago
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By the time you even told Simon you wanted a divorce, you... had been left. There was no trace of you in your shared home and you naively figured that the distance would give him the time and space necessary to process the end of the marriage. It was better this way, you figured, a way to bring the concerns over your safety down to a minimum, especially for Simon.
You were heartbroken that it had to be this way, but for both of your sakes, it was for the best.
But you should've been wary when you received not one reply when you made your declaration.
Moving, cleaning house, and settling were your main priorities, but it was when you hit your stride, became settled in your new normal, and found peace in your decision did Simon choose to strike.
You were fumbling with your keys and the groceries, making ready to unlock the door to your new place when a deep voice called out.
"Need some help?"
You should've paid attention to the timbre and who asked you that but... priorities and all. And yours was getting out of the heat. You chalked it up to a helpful neighbor. It didn't register until you turned, a polite smile on your face ready to reject their help, and oh shit.
You barely registered the faint sound of glass breaking.
Dark eyes held your gaze. You could never read him when you wanted to. And he was close. Too close. You two were touching, and you felt... confined. Trapped. Caught between a rock and a hard place. If this was any other time you would've loved it but holy fucking shit how did he—
"You look like you've seen a ghost, sweetheart."
And you could laugh. You honestly could. If you weren't speechless.
If you weren't shitting bricks.
And there goes a couple days' worth of groceries. So fucking much for that.
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au where ghost, who either never enlisted or is discharged/retired, works as a scare actor in a local haunt. he really enjoys the play pretend part of haunted houses, where yes people scream at the sight of him masked, covered in fake blood, and wielding a (chainless, but still loud) chainsaw, but they also laugh at themselves or their friends or just because. It’s safe, there are rules, everyone knows that when going in so everyone is on the same page.
Or at least, everyone should be. Because there’s always Those Guests, the ones who drag unwilling partners or friends with them just to watch them scream. Or the ones who try to show off for their less than enthusiastic partners and just run off screaming. Ghost has a knack for breaking these kinds of guests, and takes a bit of selfish pleasure in doing so.
That’s what he thinks is going to happen when he sees a small group of maybe four or five teenagers coming through his section of the maze. One of them, clearly the ringleader, is talking a whole lot of shit, playing himself up for the “entertainment” of the girl next to him who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. So ghost revs his chainsaw, and gets ready to pounce.
The shriek the ringleader lets out is nothing but satisfying, cracking on the high note as the whole group hightails it out of there. Well, almost the whole group. As it turns out, the ringleader isn’t above sacrificing his date to spare himself, and all but throws the girl at Ghost as soon as he pops out. Ghost nearly drops his saw trying to catch her, who goes down like a sack of bricks.
The girl, who Ghost learns is named Maggie, twisted her ankle pretty badly when she was pushed, is a chatterbox once she gets over the whole “chucked at a masked serial killer by her kind of sort of not really boyfriend”. He ended up carrying her backstage once they both realized she couldn’t put any weight on her ankle and she rants about the guy and his bullshit without seemingly taking a breath. Ghost manages to butt in, asking if she has a way home. Maggie, unsurprisingly, says that her not boyfriend gave her a ride, but she could call her older brother to come get her.
They wait backstage for him to arrive, and Ghost finds he doesn’t mind the chatter. His opinion of Maggie’s “friends” gets lower and lower with every word, but he’s not going to tell her that. He can’t, not with how on a roll she is.
Price, who manages the haunt with his partner Nikolai, lets the two of them know that the brother is here, and Ghost can hear him cussing up a storm down the hallway.
He’s not prepared for John MacTavish to storm in, furious and ready to kill. Maggie looks entirely unsurprised, maybe even a little annoyed. There’s banter between the two, that good natured sibling rubbing that only comes when you know a person their entire life, but Ghost can’t hear it. He’s just bluescreened in the corner, because holy shit.
John finally looks at him to thank him for helping Maggie, and he stops cold. Ghost is half worried the whole blood and guts getup is enough to earn him a right hook to the face. Instead, a faint blush rises on John’s cheeks.
Maggie is so done with this, and hobbles out with the help of the entirely too entertained Gaz and Roach.
After much stumbling over his words, Ghost manages to earn himself both a hastily scribbled phone number on the back of a haunt flier and a tentative date the next week. Not at a haunt, thank god. John leaves with a wave and a bashful smile. Ghost can’t do much more than wave back.
Well. Back to work, he guesses.
(And if ghost goes back to stalk and scare the piss out of Maggie’s “friends”, that’s just between the two of them)
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