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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

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artist-issues · 9 months

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I'm so tired of people saying that the Prince from Snow White is a creep for kissing Snow White when he thought she was dead.

People act as if he put his tongue down her throat while she looks like a regular corpse.

Maybe I'm just more comfortable with death because of my upbringing.

There's a European tradition that you would kiss dead people goodbye. You would also wait with a dying person because dying alone was one of the most horrible ways to die.

In Poland, you would spend three days with the dead body of your relative in the house so family and friends have time to say goodbyes. We even have pictures of family members in coffins, so we could remember them.

Yeah, it's a very post-modern, historically, culturally-small-minded way to look at it.

Specifically in this movie (which is a fairy tale's fairy tale) people just...totally ignore the scene where The Prince is introduced.

Seriously and truthfully, BECAUSE the Prince only takes action in three scenes of the movie, you HAVE to take all three of them very very seriously. Because thats all there is to know about him. That's how fairy tales work: lots of information hiding under very brief, simple snippets of information. It's called nuance.

Anyway.

The Prince kisses Snow White as a culmination of their promised love for each other.

First scene he's in, he falls in love with her because of her obvious purity and he overhears her longing for someone to love her. Then she runs away because she's not sure of him, and doesn't know him. But he sings his part of the song, which is all about how he has just one heart to give, one devotion to spend, and he's choosing to give it and spend it on her if she'll have him.

And she will have him. How do we know? She sends a kiss to him on the dove. That's how the exchange ends; that's how she responds, and that's why he leaves satisfied. It's their engagement scene. They're promising their hearts to each other.

Fast-forward, the Queen messes up what might have been the natural follow-through of that engagement which is marriage by trying to kill Snow White, she's living in the woods, but she won't forget the Prince and wholeheartedly believes he'll come find her.

And the very next thing we hear about him is that he keeps his promise. He's got one heart, one love, one devotion, and it's promised to Snow White, and he will not stop searching for her. When he finds her, he's returning her kiss from their engagement scene. He thinks she's dead, but he has to finish his quest anyway. This is him, trying to keep his promise even if she's dead; he's trying to fulfill the exchange they had when they saw each other last.

It's ridiculous to assume that she needed to be awake and alive to give permission for him to kiss her; it's ignorant of the whole relationship, symbolic and literal, between these two fairy tale characters. She already sent him her kiss and her heart; he already promised to claim it; he's fulfilling the promise in that scene.

Crazy postmodern people, don't know how to take in a story. Not everything gets to have your socio-cultural lens imposed upon it.

#Snow White and the seven dwarves #little graphic there #asked #answered #true love's kiss #discourse #Snow White.Snow White 2024 #Snow White hate #Snow White and the seven dwarves 1937 #snow white 1937 #disney #classic films #meta #analysis #fairy tales #learn to read fairy tales

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kitsu-katsu · 7 months

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What some people miss when talking about the Fionna and Cake finale is the fact that if Simon's and Betty's arc didn't end how it ended, they had no "happier" option that would be coherent with the series at large

They are the doomed pairing at the center of it all, them realizing just how doomed they were, recognizing it and having their goodbyes was as good as they'd have it, because any other course of action either still dooms them or it dooms the whole world, and that's what all the parallel universes showed

If Simon and Betty never got to the crown, maybe if Simon had gone on with Betty to see the petroglyphs and their sacrifices were more evened out from the beginning, still not too long later the mushroom war would still have erupted, the bombs dropped and as normal humans it's almost certain they'd have died. Marceline would grow up without Simon, and now we're in the universe of the star

If Simon stayed in a half-transformed state, where he's neither fully Ice King nor fully Simon, we get the Winter King and someone has to be the recipient of the "crown madness" as was PB in that universe (plus, more importantly to not feel "insane" he didn't transfer the magic or the Gunther that comes with the crown, he mostly just transferred his sadness about Betty which manifested in him stealing princesses to be his brides. Thus the Winter King doesn't even remember her)

If he'd become Ice King again, he'd turn back to living not as himself, lost within the crown and depressed deep down because of it. Plus the messaging of succumbing back to an addiction he couldn't get out of because he was absolutely self destructive since without Betty his life didn't matter to him

If he'd put on the crown and stopped the bomb, Betty probably would've continued living, forever missing his memory just as he forever missed her in the main timeline. Plus eventually we get to farmworld reality

Truly the only alternative course of action that maybe could've worked somehow in terms of keeping them both alive and together for more than like 2 years would be if Betty didn't leave through the Hambo portal and maybe stayed to find Marcy along with Simon, making him less self-destructive and careless about his transformation and what it brings at the same since she'd be there too. But then there'd come a point where unassisted with magic, Betty would die anyway, and Simon would go down the Ice King path again

They're forever doomed

The events will happen, happening, happened, so on and so forth

And at least in their doom they were able to recognize it, have a moment of sincerity, Simon apologized for not seeing her sacrifices, and they both know that things could've been different, maybe better, maybe not, but regardless all their actions were taken and they have to live with them. So all in all, it's great that at last they recognize it as an experience they wouldn't trade for anything anyway, and life goes on. For Simon, with Betty's support through Golb he was able to go back and see worth in jeeping on living and going on new adventures instead of remaining stagnant for her who's never going to be back as he knew her. And Betty got to be a god, she got omnipotence, she got to protect Simon from the last obstacle to his safety: himself. And in the end it seems to imply she might've separated from Golb and become a catalyst comet herself, to be reborn

It's that signature bitter sweetness and acceptance that flawed people live flawed lives with shitty and great parts alike that's so signature adventure time. And it all will happen, happening happened and will happen again and again

#adventure time #adventure time fionna and cake #fionna and cake #fionna and cake finale #fionna and cake spoilers #simon #adventure time simon #simon petrikov #betty grof #petrigrof #betty adventure time #golbetty #golb #marceline #marceline abadeer #adventure time marceline #hambo #winter king #ice king

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queers-gambit · 4 months

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Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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steviesbicrisis · 1 year

Note

I was hallucinating a few hours ago due to lack of sleep bUT-

Thinking about Steve who's confident in his bisexuality, told the kids that he likes both and that's okay because he knows they need, trying to flirt with Eddie who is in denial bc it has to be a joke, right? Harrington, the straightest man alive? Steve lady's man Harrington? Nah, it's only on his mind. Meanwhile Steve is getting more and more sad thinking he's being rejected.

Now, think about the Hellfire members knowing that Eddie's a crush on Steve because he talks about it CONSTANTLY and be sad because "he doesn't have a fat chance in hell". They're also very protective of him so if anyone new in the club is being homophobic, they just throw them out.

So one day Steve is in the Hellfire to wait for the kids and flirt a little, telling himself that "this is the last time, you'll get a GRIP and MOVE THE FUCK ON!" is what he tells to himself. He tries a little and drops after a while, so in the break time the old members tell him that he needs to leave, because they won't allow anyone doing that to Eddie, as in: they think Steve knows that Eddie's gay and likes him so he's flirting with him in a mocking way.

So he leaves.

And when everyone (Eddie + the kids) is asking where is Steve, they say that he was being homophobic, an automat answer and they quickly try to cover up because they don't want to do that to Eddie, but Dustin immediately response was:

"how can Steve be homophobic if he's bi?"

And the world freaking EXPLOSES!

not the steddie hallucinations LMAO

Thank you for sending me this ask because I'm president of "Steve is a confident disaster Bisexual" and I'm making t-shirts for club members as we speak.

Anyways, I think Steve would be extremely confident in his sexuality to the point where he just likes whoever and goes for it (with the right precautions of course). When Eddie comes out to him and the rest of their group, Steve doesn't even think about coming out to him as well because he's been out to the group for so long he just assumes that everyone close to him knows.

So when he realizes he likes Eddie and flirts with him, he doesn't know what to take from his reactions: he doesn't look annoyed or uninterested (think about the girls he would flirt with at Scoops) but he doesn't respond either, which is weird for someone like Eddie, who engages flirty banters even with plants.

Let's add to the mix that Steve's love life has been a mess recently, how many times can you be rejected before you think there's something wrong with you?

That's why he decides to go all in one last time and then leave Eddie alone, but even the worst scenarios in his head did not prepare him for Eddie's friends telling him off on his behalf.

Steve's head is a mess but most of it all, he's ashamed. He thinks he must've been so annoying and oblivious to Eddie's disinterest that the guy had to ask his friends to put Steve in his place for him.

So he finds himself in the school's parking lot, sitting on the hood of his car and mentally counting how much money he and Robin will need to move to another country (because not even the most embarrassing moment of his life will make him go anywhere without her), completely unaware of the chaos inside the Hellfire room.

Eddie isn't in a better mental state than Steve, so he's letting the kids and the band do the talk for him.

"What do you mean he's bisexual? of course he isn't, he's Steve Harrington!" Gareth exclaims, voicing out one of Eddie's many thoughts.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? do you need a special license for that?" Mike huffs, crossing his arms.

Jeff steps in to defend his friend "Of course not! But he's king Steve! And he's constantly picking on Eddie, you heard him!"

"Picking on him? Even a child could see that he has been throwing hints at Eddie for weeks now! What are you, five?"

Erica's words put an end to the discussion, silence falls down abruptly.

Eddie jumps up off his throne and follows wherever Steve had disappeared before, distantly hearing his friends muttered apologies.

He sighs in relief when he sees Steve hasn't left yet.

The car is parked the opposite way of the entrance, so Eddie can only see Steve's back, but he can tell he's gesturing and, when he's close enough, he can hear him talk.

"You can never take a hint, can you? This is so stupid, how can you go around saying you got game when you can't even tell if someone's interested in you? Harrington charm my ass" Steve's hands are all up in the air and Eddie realizes he's gesturing similar to how Eddie does on a daily basis.

It's cute.

"Please leave the Harrington charm out of this" Eddie interjects, making Steve jump in surprise.

He looks like a deer caught by car lights, but he hides it quickly behind a smirk that Eddie refers to - at least in his head - as bitchy Steve "so, no more sending your gang after me? are you worried they didn't do a good job? or am I forbidden to stay even in the parking lot? I'll let you know that I-"

Eddie loves mean girl Steve, but he has no time for him now, so he interrupts "Go on a date with me."

Steve's raised eyebrow and incredulous look tell him that he doesn't take him seriously in the slightest.

"I said, go on a date with me" he repeats.

"I heard you the first time" Steve's voice is close to a whisper "I just think you must've hit your head on your way here."

"You're the one always taking hits on the head, not me" Eddie takes a step closer to him.

Steve steps back "well, there's a first time for everyone" he says, looking away.

Eddie moves close again, his face only a few inches from Steve's "I don't hear an answer."

Steve's eyes flicker on Eddie's lips for half a second, "I didn't hear a question" he bites back.

Eddie smirks and, under Steve's shocked look, jumps on his car.

"Eddie, what the fuck? get down of my car!" he's trying to maintain a firm tone but Eddie can tell he's amused by his antics. Eddie couldn't ask for anything better.

He looks around the parking lot to make sure they're alone, then loudly enounces "Steve Fucking Harrington-"

"Don't say it like it's my middle name!"

Eddie ignores him "- king of the school grounds, best Scoops Ahoy model-"

"what does that even mean-"

"Worst employee that family video has ever had, Faberge Organics favorite costumer-"

"I told you that in confidence."

"Would you do this humble commoner kneeling at your presence" he kneels down theatrically as he says so "the honor of accompanying him for an evening of frivolous romantic shit that society expects you to do when you find a respectable partner?"

“If I say yes will you get down?”

Eddie moves his weight from one foot to the other, making the car under him bounce “I might consider it.”

Steve lifts his arms, apprehensively “Okay, yes fine! Now please get down-”

Eddie jumps down, right into Steve’s arms.

———

All the hellfire club members decide to stop spying on them and get back inside when Eddie’s highly entertaining antics turn into a gross make out session.

“So” Dustin elbows Gareth’s side “does that look homophobic to you?”

#sorry for any mistakes #I’m falling asleep as I’m writing this lmao #and for making you wait #but I had fun writing it!!#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #bi steve harrington #ask me anything #steddie ficlet #ficlets #sbc writes

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guav · 2 years

Text

ᥫ᭡ for rindou, manjiro, chifuyu, and souya,

KISS ME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED!

tokyo revengers characters + types of kisses

𔘓 only warning is they're probably very out of character but who cares!! i had a blast writing them anyway

⠀◉⠀HAITANI RINDOU

the kisses that chase after you

“you’re taking me through roppongi for a date?”

rindou gave no reply, bike soaring past car after car seamlessly. of course he would, just to show off.

the district wasn’t a mystery to you. it’s hard not knowing every nook and cranny, every street and shop, when you’ve been dancing around the youngest haitani for months. endless weeks with your arm looped around his—he’s not yours. every other day with his fingers idly playing with your belt loops—you’re not his.

and yet you wake at every call of his. phone chimes at the midst of witching hours quickly become your cue to sneak out your window. it’s routine without a label.

“i didn’t think tonight would be the night you confess you’re a table dancer.” no judgment from your end, though an annoyed sigh does leave your companion’s very own soul.

rindou couldn’t be bothered to turn off the engine just yet, slightly considering driving you both off the pier he parked at. “how do you even come up with all that?”

“i’m a psychic.”

he scoffed in response, turning the key to let the engine die. psychic is a stretch, you’re a bother, if anything. “s’that the reason you haven’t turned around yet?”

his words are commands, and you whip your head around. the thought of getting pushed and falling to your death seemed plausible—considering it was rindou who asked you to face the other way. however, such a beautiful landscape would have never crossed your mind. rindou had taken you on a drive to witness the beauty of night.

roppongi sang glowing notes of life below, more alive during the dead of night than when morning dew arises. the district was breathing, and it was alluring by itself.

you barely take note of rindou sneaking behind you, neither do you care when he eggs you forward, trapping you between the railings and his own frame. at this point you wouldn’t care if he actually shoved you, the tall buildings would make for a hell of view as you fell.

“you’ve mentioned you like the place better when it shines,” rindou mused. “thought we could come here together.”

we. although you know he meant it in a literal sense, you linger on the word.

what are we?

you’ve avoided the subject for an eternity. at this point, even ran has given up on trying to steal you from his little brother. it’s been that long.

maybe it’s best left unspoken. maybe you’d rather turn around to face him.

“did i?” he’s impossibly close to you, yet you wrap your arms around his shoulders. c’mere. “since when do you listen to anything i say?”

rindou doesn’t answer, it’s a little concerning. the silence isn’t heavy because there’s no such thing—there’s cars driving past, music blaring, and distant chattering. it’s not awkward because there’s an unspoken agreement. it’s only awkward if you make it awkward.

there’s little space between your bodies, and it lessens as he starts leaning in. his eyes are distant, they’re stuck on your lips. rindou is so close to finally picking the forbidden fruit.

until you turn your head. “maybe i’ll be your bouncer if i get this view every time you have a dancing session.”

for the record, he’s fucking embarrassed. rindou backs away quickly (his arms don’t care for the humiliation, they stay put and keep you in the same spot), the slightest trace of a blush disappearing with the lack of light. “joke’s dead.”

so is his mood, and it’s hilarious. “is it?” you face him once again, taking note of the blonde’s agitation. poor youngest brother, always taking the torment, no matter the context. “i think you could pull it off.”

rindou is sure the window of opportunity is long-gone. he’s certain there’s no way the mood will come back. pulling away and brushing it off would be a good move, but your arms don’t allow him to budge, and in the blink of an eye you’re brushing noses with him again.

the window opens again, it’s so free. he leans in again, tilting to the right. but you tilt a little too much to the left, and your face rests on one of his shoulders instead.

great, for a split second he made out with air.

it’s hard to contain your laughter, you can feel his hands grip your hips with anger. “you got the moves, so i’ve heard—ran says you make funny poses when you’re in a fight.”

after two failed attempts, he comes to a conclusion.

you’re messing with him. you’re playing with rindou haitani, man who’s gone to jail before for murder.

rindou is about done with your antics. he grips your chin, and though the initial force is harsh, it softens. it always does with you, especially when you’re trying to stifle that stupid giggling.

“you think you’re funny.” yeah, yeah you do. “actin’ all dumb, pulling away—is that why your arms are clinging to me?”

“i don’t know what you're talking about,” you lie.

“you a comedian now?” rindou is pressing you impossibly tighter against the railing. “am i laughing?”

you are. “sorry rin, just—you’re too easy to rile up.” he wants nothing more than to wipe that smug grin from your face, you’ve picked up on his facial expressions too well.

“lemme fuckin’ kiss you, damnit.” he muttering mostly to himself, stuck trying to hold your face in place.

but you’re having the time of your life running from him. it’s hilarious hearing the curses slip past the same lips desperately chasing after yours. (he’s not sure he wants to kiss you at all anymore! his patience has long since run out!)

whatever good is left in your soul takes pity on the delinquent. he comes crashing when you finally meet him halfway. it’s messy, and he’s angry. so he doesn’t stop at one kiss, he’s selfish like that. rindou finally got a taste, and the built-up tension demands a thousand more samples.

“was that,” he can only keep away from your lips for a split second. “so fuckin’,” it’s addicting. “hard?”

maybe it wasn’t, maybe you shut him up with another kiss.

⠀◉⠀SANO MANJIRO

the kisses that taste sweet... literally

clearly, you should've known better. in the entire lifetime you've known mikey for, never had the man caved at sharing the tiniest piece of dorayaki in his possession.

you should've known better than to buy two of the cakes and store them in the same bag. the same bag which was now within his greedy claws, leaving you to negotiate (beg would be more fitting) for your rightful share of treats. "you got them for me, though."

a sigh, "i got you one, the other one in the bag is mine."

mikey, mouth full of the treat, tilted his head—a pseudo show of confusion. "nuh-uh, there was only one in the bag." his lips pursed like the liar he is.

"fine, just let me have one bite, you can eat the rest." bargaining is futile, maybe it's time to reconsider your criteria for a boyfriend.

"i'm serious, there's no more dorayaki in the bag."

a pause, followed by manjiro getting tackled to the grass. blonde strands of hair merged with the green under them, shoulders shaking in what could only be described as evil laughter. mad, cruel giggling. the paper bag, forcefully snatched from mikey’s grasp, was indeed empty. only a few crumbs remained as evidence of his crimes.

"how did you even manage to eat it so quickly?" shock elevated your tone into a shriek, heart shattering over the missing dorayaki. "you're like, the worst of the worst!" being a gang leader does not even come close to this level of violation.

mikey's laughter did nothing to mend your loss. careless laughter, teenage glee. under any other circumstances you would’ve loved to capture his happiness in a bottle, to cherish forever. however, the figurative knife he had just plunged in your back made for a hell of a fresh wound.

manjiro sano was now being judged by your fists, feebly striking his chest, shoulder, and chest again. "i'm sorry—ouch—okay, i'm sorry!

he could’ve well struggled against your barrage of punches, but he didn’t. did they hurt? not in the slightest, perhaps you needed this more than he did.

all the profanities leaving your mouth served to fuel mikey's fit of giggles even further. oh, just how would he, filthy criminal, ever make it up to you?

an idea popped into his head. "i can call kenchin and tell him to buy you some on the way."

"i don't want ken's money, i want my dorayaki!"

he rubbed his chin, awaiting another genius idea. "do you want the crumbs, then?"

your jaw dropped at the audacity, "you are a dead man."

before you could further spiral and throw a thousand more insults his way, mikey dove forward, pressing his lips against yours.

foreheads bumped together, and while it hurt for a split second, the sensation was overtaken by the god-sent gift that is chocolate; tiny specks of bread, and the sweetness that is mikey’s embrace made your anger dissipate for a moment.

"see?" he pulled back, sporting a stupid, proud grin. "tastes even better than the actual thing."

"no, no it doesn't," you leaned in for another kiss, anyway.

⠀◉⠀MATSUNO CHIFUYU

the kisses that missed their cue

“it’s foolproof—i start with you as an opening gift,” it’s worth mentioning chifuyu is talking to a stuffed animal on his bed. “then we have dinner, followed by a walk in the park, and then the bridge is the perfect place for a kiss.”

anyone walking into this would likely mark chifuyu down as insane. talking to a heart-patterned bear doesn’t classify as sane people activities. yet, when peke j pops his head from behind the toy, the circumstances change. talking to your cat is a little more excusable.

a meow puts his previous ramble to a stop, though it opens the door to a new one. “you think the button up is too much?”

no, the cat doesn’t have much thought outside of craving treats. “maybe i should just settle on my sweater, but if they get cold, giving them my sweater would be too much of a hassle.”

peke j could not care less. “i’ll take the risk with the button up and a jacket.”

another meow—though this time chifuyu doesn’t bother interpreting it.

his plan was foolproof, it was meant to be.

but no one told him how uncomfortable it would be to ride his bike with such get-up, or how awkward it would be when you went in to hug him and he stuffed the bear in your face by accident. nor did anyone remind him to turn his phone off while having dinner (he was sure to choke takemichi for spamming his messages, crying over a rip on his stupid red and white shirt).

however, the worst comes when a drop of rain falls on your forehead, midway through your stroll.

chifuyu is quick to slide his jacket over your shoulders. the rain isn’t kind enough to spare you another minute before it pours down, and you’re left making a run for shelter.

you know he’s trying his best to keep his composure, but the silent curses slipping past his lips aren’t discrete enough for the rain to mask. it’s evident in the way he clicks his tongue, and furrows his eyebrows.

chifuyu planned the entire evening meticulously, afternoons spent kicking his feet back and forth at all his ideas. all his plans, slowly washing down the drain.

“chifuyu, wait,” he’s damn close to slipping when you come to a sudden halt, arm tugging back to your spot. “look.”

mercy, at last. the drizzle filters through the tree leaves, only allowing a drop or two to slip past the cover. it’s better than nothing, and he’s too drenched to care.

his breathing is erratic. you can already hear the endless apologies that are dying to jump out of his throat. “it’s okay, see?”

take a deep breath is what he hears, maybe his secret gift is reading between the lines of both human and feline speech. chifuyu follows your unspoken demand down to a t.

he breathes in. at least you enjoyed the food, all the stories he had dug out for you proved to be most effective. your laughter quickly became one of his favorite noises, if that’s even a thing sane people have.

he breathes out. he was right to follow his gut and take his jacket. if only he had listened to peke j’s complaints, you would be swimming in damp wool. two wins against four losses wasn’t the best of proportions, but you weren’t frowning or chewing him out for being a bad date, so chifuyu decides to take the small victories.

he wants to break the silence. it’s not uncomfortable, but the prospect of hearing you chuckle again is too tempting. maybe this time he’ll tell you of the time baji accidentally bought a women’s shirt (and absolutely killed the v-neck look). or maybe you’d get a better kick out of the time peke j was called excalibur, his own embarrassment be damned if it meant your eyes would flicker with glee.

too many options revolved in his mind. it quickly became more and more difficult to choose one when you stared at him expectantly, adoringly. the squeeze on his hand wasn’t helping either.

… huh?

“doesn’t this seem like a scene straight out from one of your books?” your voice was muffled by the panicked screaming within his thoughts. he was slowly processing that he had grabbed your hand and practically dragged you through the rain. chifuyu’s plan was foolproof, he was meant to make that move at the end of the walk. give him a minute, please.

or don’t. “stranded under the rain, both soaked to the bone.” wait, you knew about his mangas? everything you spoke went through his ears with delay.

carefully, you peeled off his jacket, giving it a shake before snaking it around him. it was getting a little painful seeing him try to hold back from shivering. “i’d say your lovey-dovey date worked out just fine.”

screw the long-awaited scene by the bridge, where he was meant to cup your chin and lean in to steal your breath. with roses floating around the two of you, for good measure.

screw his foolproof plan.

another win is tallied in chifuyu’s favor when he met you halfway, closing the gap between your faces with a soft kiss. maybe a second one as well when you tugged him down for another.

(“i think it’s cute, chifuyu! you really spent a lot of time planning this.”

he rubbed his neck, mustering a chuckle. “it still went sideways, though.”

“michi even mentioned you had him sit through two romance movies to brainstorm—that’s dedication.”

as if he needed a second reason to murder hanagaki.)

⠀◉⠀KAWATA SOUYA

the kisses that make you believe in romance

it was an afternoon meant to blend in as any other day in the week. nothing new to watch on tv, no special meal to indulge in, and gray skies overhead. just a normal afternoon meant to be forgotten the next day.

until your doorbell announced a visitor, and you opened the door to a ridiculously huge bouquet of flowers hiding a blue poof of hair behind them.

you were the most despicable human to walk this earth. were you meant to go on a date? was today your anniversary? had you forgotten your own birthday?

"special occasion?" you prepared for the worst

souya stood awkwardly outside, half expecting you to maybe let him inside your home. "no, i just wanted to surprise you."

bless his heart.

his words snapped you out of the trance. door now wide open, you let him inside, taking the flowers from his arms. bless his beautiful soul, souya blushed when your hands grazed against his.

"i'll go put these in a vase, you can take off your shoes and wait on the couch." you tried to sound calm, you really did, but these flowers were heavy. what were they even feeding plants nowadays?

shoes carelessly thrown to the ground and hurried steps were your saving grace, the weight finally lessening as souya dashed in to help you carry them.

the arrangement looked beautiful when it wasn't making your arms cry for help. "sou, you didn't have to."

his eyes locked on the floor, "do you not like them? big bro said it'd be a nice detail.” he figured so too, yet he couldn’t help but fumble with his fingers.

truly, bless his mother for birthing him and his devil spawn of a twin.

"yes! of course i love them, i just," one hand sought to grasp his own, gently unclenching the fist he always curls his hand in. "i feel a little bad that i don't have anything for you."

a warm hue of blush painted his cheeks once again. "you don't have to give anything back, it wouldn't be a gift otherwise."

your free hand came to cup his face, gently lifting it. his eyes, wide as ever, were nothing short of nervous. "thank you, souya."

a soft peck on his cheek would have to suffice as payback for now. roses and snapdragons for a kiss. lips softly landed on his skin, lingering for just a minute longer. a muted smile ghosted on your face as his shoulders loosened up. flowers reciprocated as a honey-laced embrace.

and when his arms wrapped carefully around your waist, you could've sworn the sun came out for the first time that day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀navi.⠀＆⠀m.list.⠀＆⠀send me an ask!

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i-cant-sing · 9 months

Note

What happens to Teen Fushiguro in the Shibuya Arc after Kenjaku & Mahito kidnap her?

Ah yes, I forgot about this one. Okay, so I imagine that they take you underground or wherever their lair is and like idk... cast spells on you to keep you from using your powers against them. You continue to threaten them, hurl insults at them and they find it amusing because 1. You're a child 2. You don't even know how easily they could kill you. 3. You're a child, why are you trying to fight the boss fights??💀

Anyways, you grow on them and they do end up becoming yanderes for you too. I mean, Kenjaku is like grandfather/guardian figure to you, and if like Getou is still alive/concious inside him, then he's like an uncle/godfather figure to you. They're bothe very protective, Getou more than Kenjaku, while Kenjaku is more like those veteran granddads who want you to become the best version of yourself and be independent, so they don't help you unless they absolutely do need to step in, but nevertheless love you. And once you do learn whatever skill/lesson he wanted you to, or actually become independent, he does not want you to use those new skills or become independent and stop relying on him for "protection" (even if u don't want it in the first place) or leave him/try to replace him. Nuh uh.

Same goes for Getou too, only he's far more gentle with you. Of course he wants you to be stronger and independent too, but he's far more likely too jump in to help you way before any true harm befalls you. He's softer in his lessons, always has that gentle smile on his face as he dodges whatever attack you launch on him. Encouraging words as he pats your head while you're on the ground trying to catch your breath.

As for Mahito, he's much more like an annoying older brother who bullies you for shits and giggles but God forbid if anyone else hurts you. I mean he'd still make fun of you for getting hurt, but rest assured whoever harmed you is now obliterated.

Your time with them is spent with Kenjaku provoking you and finding whatever it is that makes you tick and then having you spar with curses or with Mahito (who takes great joy in being a jerk). And sure, compared to all of their other victims, you're in "paradise," but in reality, your mental is taking a plunge very fast. Because Kenjaku and Mahito have realised your trigger point-

Abandonment issues.

So they use that against you. Everyday, they tell you that your father left you, that Megumi never fought hard enough for you because he didn't like you, that Gojo knew Megumi had a sister but he didn't take you in with him, and that the Zenin clan did consider you a nuisance which is why they let Gojo take you to Jujutsu High, just so that Gojo can use you as a weapon.

And sure, you'd argue that none of it is true but when a lie is told enough times, it starts to feel like the truth. So with the constant feed of negative words and being cut off from the outside world, reader couldn't help but believe all those lies, and that's how her self esteem and mental health took a turn for worse. She becomes more isolated, more quiet, more... dead. She lacks the energy to fight off those curses, not even fazed as they come a little too close to actually killing you (obv Kenjaku or Mahito step in before they can). And this is the point where they think that now that they have broken you down, they can start building you up again... and have you join their side of the battle. Of course, you're still against that, just not putting any actual effort into reacting to them, but then... they bring Megumi.

Or well, Sukuna occupying Megumi's body.

You instantly recognised them both- recognised the shift in the energy, recognised the monster who was disguised as your brother and you broke down. Fell to your knees, sobbed hard enough for your body to shake until Sukuna gathered you in his arms and moved to a private space, away from prying eyes.

You cried and cried, and Sukuna didn't need you to actually say anything for him to understand. You were mourning for your brother, who you knew has a target on his back now that he was Sukuna's vessel, who wouldnt be leaving him so easily. He just patted your back and assured you that everything will be alright if you just listen to him, made you remember how he promised that he'd always be there for you, made you promise to stick by his side and nothing bad will ever happen to you.

"Sukuna?" Your teary voice croaked, the curse king hummed in response. "Promise you won't hurt Megumi? Won't let anyone else hurt Megumi?"

Despite everything, you still cared for your brother. You didn't really need him, but the way you begged... Sukuna didn't have the heart to say no.

"Okay. Only if you listen to me." You nodded, sniffling as you rested your head against his shoulder.

From there on, I think that Kenjaku will continue to help you weild your powers to become the perfect vessel for Sukuna (who has actually no intention of using you as a vessel, no he just wants you by his side for eternity, all for him to spoil and pamper). You follow Sukuna's rules, stay indoors and only come out when he let's you accompany him, sometimes he'd let you enter his domain expansion so that you could meet Megumi, who tries to convince you run for your life and don't worry about him.

Now, I like to think that a point comes when Gojo is finally free from the prison realm and is now ready to beat everyone's asses, and that's when Sukuna mentions how he has been having a good time with you, which only provokes Gojo to fucking murder him and even Megumi, before he finally decides to just beat his ass and look for you (probably when you stop Gojo from killing Megumi) and that's how Gojo ends up snatching you away as you scream for Sukuna to not kill Megumi, beg Gojo to let you go because Sukuna would kill Megumi if you're not there. And all of this sounds like Stockholm syndrome to Gojo and the gang, who again, keep you under lock and key.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere Kenjaku #yandere getou suguru #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto x reader #yandere getou #yandere geto #yandere mahito #yandere gojo saturo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere sukuna ryomen #yandere sukuna #yandere sakuna #yandere #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 11 months

Text

Amendmends - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[Part II]

[contains vulgar language]

SUMMARY: When two of your thugs get into a fight at the Slat, you have to go apologize in person. The owner seems suspiciously happy to have you indebted to him.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.9k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

“You did what?!”

The two men flinch. Feeling too humiliated to look the incandescent bull in the eye, they resort to twiddling their thumbs and riveting their gazes into the cracked, wooden floor. They’re not greenhorns and neither are they unfamiliar with your character, so it’s unclear why they ever thought this confrontation would go in any way differently. Perhaps some juvenile naivety told them this moment would, simply, never come.

“We got into a fight,” one of them repeats. Fear makes his voice waver, resounding a lot quieter than the first time he announced their misdeed. The humiliation only gnaws further at his heart as the boy involuntarily relives all of the reprimands he had received from his parents.

His partner in crime lets out a defeated sigh. The man nudges his friend and whispers: “Come on, Sorokin, she’ll know anyway.” With a sour expression on his face, he lifts his gaze to look at the woman standing behind the desk. Your nostrils are flared as you breathe hard trying to maintain composure. The unfaltering scowl you wear so well makes him gulp. “We started a fight at the Slat. One of the patrons was cheating, wasn’t even doing it very well, so we thought it was our civic duty to put it to a stop.”

You lean forward ever so slightly, hinging on your arms. Although you’re in all ways smaller than them, it doesn’t affect their fright: wolves, after all, also seem not as big when they're preparing to pounce. Words leave your mouth like venom slowly dripping from a viper’s fangs: “You have no fucking civic duty on the Crows’ turf, you bellend.”

“Boss, we-”

Sorokin immediately stops talking when you raise your hand in a quieting gesture. You close your eyes and clench the raised hand into a fist. Only after a slow, deep breath can you continue:

“Just shut your mouth while you still can move it freely. I don’t care for your excuses and promises to do better because I’m the one who has to go to Kaz Brekker and apologize on your behalf.” You push yourself away from the decorative, engraved desk. Unknowingly, you’re shaking your head, looking away from the two bullyboys for a moment. In a gesture of frustration, you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Saints only know what he’ll want for giving up retaliation,” you say under your breath. A moment of tense, reflective silence goes by before your gaze returns to the two men. The scowl immediately reappears. “What’re you standing here for? Fuck off.”

With a flick of your wrist, the crooks bolt out the door, praising the Saints that they get to see another day. Maybe they are the ones scrubbing the floors pro bono for the next two weeks but at least they’re alive. Considering the genius loci of Ketterdam, that is as good as anything.

Jesper and Inej do not pay attention to the constant opening and closing of doors to the Slat - there’s no point. Their curiosity, however, is piqued when the noise of the lively club becomes muffled and cheering turns into low murmurs and grunts. Although positioned in completely different places, they simultaneously look towards the entrance, wondering what menace could strike reluctance into the heartless thugs of the Barell.

As expected as it wasn’t, considering the area, it’s a woman. In an utter lack of taste and respect for social etiquette, you’re dressed in rather expensive men’s clothing. You even have a decorative cane with a panther’s head on top, although the item is strangely short, suggesting that it’s more of a status symbol than a mobility aid. Golden accessories, proof of acquired wealth, glimmer in the low, yellow lights of the club.

“Should we do something?” Inej whispers to Jesper, making him flinch in surprise. Really, how is she doing it time and time again?

“No way, Inej,” he laughs dryly at the notion. “It’s the Golden Panther herself. We’ve no bad blood with her and let’s hope it can stay that way.”

The name isn't in any way the stranger's own incentive - only what the victims saw right before being knocked out cold: golden, heavy rings and a black tattoo of a roaring panther on the back of your hand. Some of the more egotistic goons in Ketterdam try to mimic the artwork with other supposedly dangerous animals but it never has the same ominous feeling.

“Then why is she walking straight towards us?”

His gaze returns to the unexpected guest. Inej is right - in an unbothered stroll, you’re making your way to them. When the Panther’s stern, cold gaze meets his, the man feels anxiety building up in his chest. If Kaz had a sister, that would be her. In any other circumstances, he’d laugh at that thought but with the fiend in front of him, humour has somehow fled.

Jesper slowly puts down his drink, his other hand mindlessly resting on top of the revolver behind his belt. “I don’t know but I don’t like this.”

Inej scrunches her nose. "I always imagined it’s a man."

"Well, I thought she'd be, you know, bigger,” Jesper says in a hushed voice. The Slat is strangely quiet and you’re sure to hear his comment if he speaks any louder. “Considering Panther and all."

You stop in front of them. Physique-wise, you don’t seem very threatening to either of the Crows. No, it’s something in the air, as though your presence elicits some kind of aura that makes people want to flee from sight, noisy lowlifes become as meek as sheep. Jesper wonders if this is how aristocrats and politicians feel when someone mentions the Queen of Beggars.

Golden Panther looks between the two of them. In an unexpectedly polite fashion, both of your hands are holding the decorative cane. After a moment, your gaze stops on Jesper. You look him up and down but he’s unsure whether he should feel threatened or flattered.

“You’re the one who got into that fight yesterday, aren’t you?” you finally ask.

Oh, that.

Jesper grips the gun tighter. “Yeah, that would be me.”

You put your hand into the pocket of your dress trousers, apathetic eyes still set on him, and pull out a wad of banknotes. Without looking at them, never even thinking to count the amount, you lay it next to his drink on the bar counter.

“For the trouble. Buy yourself something nice. Where’s the owner?”

“In his office,” Jesper answers with a vague motion of his hand.

With a curt nod of your head, you leave the two Crows to find the man you’ve been truly looking for. When you’re out of earshot, the stairs creaking under your weight, Jesper turns to Inej:

“Did I just get pocket money from Lady Belladonna?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“I’m afraid you did.”

Immediately, he grabs the wad of cash, counting the banknotes. His eyes only grow wider as the stack of 50s doesn’t seem to end - Jesper Fahey is suddenly something of a rich man.

You don’t knock. The door swings open and Kaz is about to tell off anyone who’s disturbing him when he notices you standing on the threshold. Without a word of either warning or welcome, he grabs his cane. Twisting off the top of your staff, you pull the accessory slightly apart, revealing a sharp blade hidden inside.

“Show me yours, tough guy. Bet mine’s bigger,” you jest. Then you close the cane and Kaz, although hesitant, lets go of his. “I come in peace.”

“What brings you here?” he asks impatiently.

You take a deep breath and sigh. The chair in front of him is left vacant but considering the reason for your visit, it would be impolite to sit around. “I’d like to apologize.” Kaz raises his eyebrows in surprise. He knows the business well enough to know that people of your sort don’t adhere to courtesy often. “The fight that broke out yesterday? My boys. They weren’t supposed to be here but that doesn’t change anything. What’s done is done and since they wear claws around their necks, they’re my responsibility.”

For a moment you look away, biting the inside of your cheek. It’s the right thing to do but Saints’ mercy, is it humiliating. Kaz doesn’t say anything, curious anticipation egging him to let the tense silence squeeze the truth out of you.

You look at him again. The anger of having to fawn on someone makes you tighten the grip on your cane. "I can pay you for the damages but I can't undo the injuries or the fucking headache. Instead, I'm offering you my service. One job, no matter how bloody insane, I'll do it. Just leave my boys alone."

Kaz sits back in his chair, taking in the fascinating turn of events. In all of your demimonde courtesy, you’ve done exactly what he had expected you to do. You swear there’s a shadow of a grin creeping unto his face and that’s when you realize you’ve probably manoeuvred yourself into a problematic, inescapable corner. If half of the stories they say about him are true, you’re going to shake hands with death herself in the nearest future, probably more than once.

A scoff flies past your lips. You look at him through squinted eyes but he doesn’t seem to mind that. Why would he? He just scored a jackpot without stepping out of his office.

“I know that look, Brekker,” you stress the sudden lack of courtesy. “You’ve been waiting for this moment your whole fucking life, haven’t you? The Golden Panther at your beck and call.”

“There is one job that will utilize your methods,” he puts a strange, although meaningful stress on the word, “but it’s nothing sure for now.”

He plays his cards well. So well, in fact, that you can’t tell whether he’s honest or bluffing. The only thing you are sure of is that if he lives up to his name, Kaz is bound to have some kind of ace up his sleeve, even if it’s unadulterated rage - he will either find or create a problem for you to solve, never as much as entertain the thought of passing up on your offer.

There is simply no way that a man of his skill and expertise doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. Like those miserable churchgoers praying to the Saints for a sign, you too now have to obediently await the fateful word of Kaz Brekker. You’re a fiddle and through your own goodwill, you have appointed him a fucking virtuoso.

“I’ll be anticipating your word, Brekker,” you grit the last bits of politeness through your teeth. “In the meantime, don’t try to think about me too often. Might neglect your business and the panther…” your voice trails off and you shrug with faux innocence, “The panther only needs to find you once.”

“It’s a bold assumption that I spend any minute of my time thinking about you.”

“Well, you’re doing it now, aren’t you?” The cocky smile on your face only annoys him. “До свидания,” you throw while vaguely saluting at him.

When the door shuts behind you, Kaz lets out a frustrated sigh. You’re going to make this whole operation incomparably easier for him - that is, if he doesn’t kills you first. For the sake of his sanity.

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ardent-apostasy · 6 months

Text

people in the comments of posts about religious trauma will be like "what trauma?? from sitting in a pew once a week??" and i'm like, first of all, many of us did a helluva lot more than just sitting in a pew once a week, m-kay? and second of all, sitting in a pew once a week gave me PLENTY to work through as an adult so kindly shut it.

like i'm sorry that you can't understand that sitting in a pew breaking out in hives but not allowed to leave because "I SEE YOU WALKING OUT!! THE TRUTH IS UNCOMFORTABLE!! THE WEAK WILL LEAVE BECAUSE THEY WON'T LET JESUS INTO THEIR HEARTS!!" and other such bullshit, or being told that you are INHERENTLY sinful and going to HELL to be BURNED for all eternity, or being told that NOTHING you do will ever be good enough, or being told that "YOU ARE LIKE THE LUKEWARM CHURCH THAT JESUS WILL VOMIT OUT" because of something like not volunteering often enough (or, of course, for not donating enough to the church), or hearing sermons about how JUSTIFIED genocide is as long as the people you're killing don't believe in the One True God (but then again don't worry about those True Believers because they shall survive with the Power of The Holy Spirit anyways), or being often reminded that you MUST be willing to BURN IN A FURNACE or be EATEN ALIVE BY LIONS over not being EXTREMELY PUBLIC about your faith, or...

you get my drift. you put a child through all that and i think they're allowed to have some fucking trauma.

so yeah. kindly shove your "it's just church once a week!" up your ass.

#i'm just like #i got more than just the church once a week experience #but frankly #church once a week is plenty of bullshit on its own thank you very fucking much #exvangelical #ex christian #ex fundie #apostate #religious deconstruction #religious trauma

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mariariley · 8 months

Text

Russell Adler x reader

✪ relationship headcanons ✪

2nd person

female reader

NSFW warning

Word count: 1.1k

masterlist || have a request/ask? Here are the rules <3

He prefers keeping it professional so he would never date a woman that works with him

In his free time he tends to approach a stunning woman he sees sitting alone at a bar. He's respectful and would only aim for single girls (even though he can definitely steal bitches-)

He would make cheeky jokes about his ex-wife, spontaneously letting you know he's single as well

He prefers his girl loyal and respectful because that's all he is. He also doesn’t like envious women

His way of flirting is very casual. He can "rizz you up" without even trying, make your cheeks glow bright red with a single sentence

He's quite experienced and definitely knows what he's doing. He doesn't mind age gaps as long as they're legal

I would say he's quite picky actually. He goes for the looks, elegant or unique, independent, anything that can tell him that you're sticking out in a way

He's very good at reading people so with merely a small talk he can tell if you're worth his time or no, if you're, how he likes saying, "just a pretty face"

As your partner he's very old school and passionate

Doesn’t mind if you’re just a housewife, that’s kinda his jam anyway

He likes using nicknames such as “doll face”, “sweetie” and the classic American husband one: “honey”

He would strictly keep you out of his work, not keeping you informed at all. He would claim the only thing you should know is if he's alive or not

On longer, more serious missions you two could end up out of contact for weeks just because his job requires so (which might cause arguments just like with his ex-wife)

He loves when he comes home after a hard day and you greet him with warm dinner. He would always reward you for that

He likes buying you stuff, nothing too expensive but still not affordable for everyone. He just loves spoiling you

Perhaps he would think about marriage a bit too quickly. He's a divorced (traditional) middle aged man after all, he would love to put a ring on you to mark a new fresh start and leave everything he has with his ex-wife behind

He isn't crazy about having children but wouldn't mind becoming a family man. Nevertheless, it is not that easy considering his job so the agreement on forming a family might take time (only if you want kids that is. If not, no forcing)

In bed he likes taking it slowly. He's very passionate and likes making it hot and intense

Taking his sweet sweet time, showing you all experience he's got, somewhat edging you the whole time would always make you arch your back and grab onto his hair in heavy overstimulation every time

He likes oral, prefers rather giving than receiving. It’s crazy what his tongue can do

Loves women’s breasts. Doesn’t matter what size, he just loves them in general, his favorite part to kiss (and collarbone and shoulders)

He prefers missionary so he can kiss you all over and have a proper look at you. He always whispers how good and tight you feel around him or: "You're taking it so well, sweetie", "That's my sweet girl"

He also likes the spooning position where he gets to hold your leg up

He especially loves doing the "exhausting" cowgirl when he's already drained your battery with a heated session of rough thrusts. He'd just lay back, smoke his cigarette and enjoy the view of your legs trembling while struggling to ride his girthy cock

"Come on, honey, just a little longer" he'd encourage you with a sly smile on his face

He loves when you moan his name or just Adler. Considering that's what they call him at work, it would really get him going, making him feel dominant

When you'd moan his last name he would grab a fistful of your hair, grope you tighter and go rougher, perhaps leave a couple of hickeys on your neck, breasts and collarbone

Sometimes he likes bending you over his office desk and make you take it from behind as he'd, as usual, smoke a cigar while giving you backshots

He would grab your chin or hair, making you look at him over his shoulder. He loves seeing your uncontrollable expressions of pleasure while hitting your g-spot over and over again, telling you how beautiful you look

He never pulls out. If you're having unprotected sex, he loves looking at his hot sperm leaking out of your gapping, pulsing pussy (excuse my language)

He would make sure you're clean and comfortable after, always keeping your limp body in his arms while smoking yet another for complete pleasure. That cigarette after sex is like a cherry on top for him

Speaking of being clean, he's a king of hygiene. His hair is always shiny and soft, his clothes always fresh out the closet and, of course, an expensive cologne is a must

He has very strong body and facial hair so his beard grows back quickly. When he's at home he always takes care of it, every third or fourth night a soothing smell of aftershave fills your nostrils

It's difficult for him to be 100% precise considering his deep facial scars so sometimes he cuts himself by accident. He loves when you take care of the small cuts

Speaking of which, you're the only one he allows to touch his scar. He loves when you kiss it and admire it

He's a fan of beauty marks, especially if you have any on your face. He will kiss all of them, maybe even count them for fun

He loves playing with your hair, brushing it, braiding it, anything really. He thinks women's most beautiful (physical) features are their hair and smile (also loves when women wear strong lipsticks, red is his favorite color)

If you wear glasses, expect him to buy you bunch of expensive frames. Glasses are his passion, he would even buy you sunglasses to match his

Big fan of jewelry, especially necklaces and earrings. On a mission in another country, when he'd walk past a jewelry shop, he would always stop and take a look

He's a nightmare for every jewelry shop because he is picky and he will make the employees turn the whole thing upside down, trying to find a perfect piece for you

"Honey, I'm home! And I brought you something~" would be the well known greet whenever he comes home from a long mission

He might be a reserved man but that isn't stopping him from putting his job aside just for a little while and treat you with honesty and passion

In fact, he fears something will happen to you if anyone finds out you're his s/o. He's secretly very paranoid he's putting you in danger by just having you in his life

Dividers by @firefly-graphics 🥀

#russell adler #russell adler x reader #russell adler headcanons #russell adler x you #russell adler x y/n #black ops cold war #cod cold war #cold war #call of duty cold war #call of duty black ops #cod bocw #call of duty #call of duty headcanons #call of duty x reader #cod cold war x reader #cod x reader #russell adler smut #cod smut

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stinkysam · 6 months

Text

Levi Ackerman - You, who survived despite the odds.

Warning : end manga spoilers

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "levi and reader (male) have had feelings for years now but for the fear of one of them dying they never reached anything, not until they ended up living together after all the stuff they went through. reader takes care of levi and is usually very talkative but now he seems more closed off and clearly levi notices this but the reason is that reader is thinking of how to ask him to finally be his boyfriend. ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა" - @vainillacookie

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

You had wanted to ask him out for a while now, but one thing had stopped you.

The fear of having to mourn him.

It was constant, a daily feeling you grew accustomed to over the years you got to know him.

Today though ? It was gone.

Things had changed, the titans were gone and a more peaceful and calmer time had settled itself into your lives.

So one thing rummaged through your mind : how to ask him out ?

You've been thinking about it for days. Keeping quiet to study better when was the best moment to make the move.

You were currently handing out candies to kids in a camp to cheer them up a bit. It was Levi's idea.

You say nothing as you smile at them, your fingers rhythmically tapping on his wheelchair.

"Spit it out." He finally said, looking at the kids running away with their candies.

"W- what ?" You look at him, surprised.

"You're awfully quiet, what is it ?"

"No, nothing. Nothing at all." You say with an awkward smile, trying to play it cool.

He turns his head to look at you then sighs as he looks away again. You glance at him, debating whether to do it now or not. You push his wheelchair again, walking to find another group of kids.

"I was thinking, uh… maybe… we could go to a dinner together ?"

He said nothing for a moment, raising an eyebrow. That's what was going through you mind ?

"Sure." He shrugs.

"No like, as a… date ?" You bite your lips, quickly rectifying yourself.

"Oh."

"Is it still a yes ?" You ask, hopeful, feeling your heart beats louder. You spot another group of children and push him toward them as he's rummaging through the candy box.

"Yes." He simply says, a bit too focused on the candies.

You grin, happy with his answer and you try to remain cool about it. You stop when you arrive in front of the kids and let Levi hand them a big lollipop. You smile a bit too brightly at them but they don't seem to care, too focused on the candies they're getting.

Levi would be lying if he said he wasn't anxious. After all, feelings were never his forte, putting them aside in all those years of fighting titans.

He had a reason to, fearing you would die wasn't an unreasonable thought. He lost so many people dear to him on the way.

So many people he thought wouldn't die. Seeing them, in his head, survive despite the odds like he thought for Hange or Erwin or many more, only for their death to happen and remind him of the harsh reality he's in.

Like he still hasn't learned since his first experience with titans and Furlan's and Isabel's sudden and brutal death. He told himself he had learned. That he knew to expect death for him and for others.

And yet he still imagined so many of them surviving. Being there with him at the end. Only for them to die, leaving him one by one. No matter the age, no matter the determination to live, no matter the background.

He didn't want to have to mourn you too much, even though he knew he would.

Because he knew it would hurt. It always hurts anyway. But he hoped, by not acting on his feelings and acting like he isn't attached, that it would hurt less. He also knew it was stupid and your death would touch him just as much whether you two are a thing or not.

But yet. You survived.

With him.

You were both… alive.

Something he didn't see happen, again.

Like his feelings for you that had blossomed unprompted, never wavering. He never thought he'd get to act on them. Thinking he'd die before it could happen.

And here he was, at the end of it. The end of the titan Era. The end of the constant fear of losing people to titans. It was finally over.

And now it was the start of something else.

With you.

He smiled, his scarred lips curving slightly upward as his fingers grabbed another candy, holding it tightly.

War with titans was over. He could have you now. He could spend his future, because he has one now, with you.

#male reader #m!reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x male reader #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyojin x male reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin imagine #levi ackerman x male reader #levi ackerman #levi Ackerman imagine #aot #snk #levi x reader

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wtfgaylittlezooid · 21 days

Text

Stickbug AU

Just so y'all can get an idea of what I'm yapping about, I'm gonna spill everything I have planned for this AU so far on this post. I'll try to update it as I come up with more ideas.

NOTE: SO THIS CAME OUT A LOT LONGER THAN I THOUGHT SO IF YALL WANT TO CONTROL F TO CERTAIN SPOTS HERE ARE THE HEADER NAMES: The Hollows Creation AVA IV Chosen & Dark Anim VS Minecraft Purple KING LETS GO MY FAVORITE KING AVM Season 3 Victim & the Mercenaries After Everything

So this AU takes place around 50 years after the canon events of Bug Fables, and I'll explain as I go along so you won't need to know the events of the game.

Some needed information is that Humans are heavily implied to have disappeared/died, and some species of bugs have gained sapience in the "Day of Awakening," though some species remained feral with a few individuals gaining sapience far after the Day of Awakening.

The Hollows Creation

Alan is still in this AU, and in a way he is still the Hollows "creator." In this AU, he's a creature called a "Deadlander Omega" found in the Giant's Lair/Deadlands. Basic information is that they're colossal bird-like Deadlanders which are so big only their claws and eyes have ever been seen. In game they like to drop other Deadlanders onto the player which triggers a fight. Alan is a more aware Omega. He likes to collect whatever piques his interest, normally anything that shines due to the lack of sunlight in the Lair. However after a while of dropping Deadlanders onto the few passing bugs, he got more curious by bugs.

NOTE: THIS IS DRAWN BY @tatos-stick-pile SHE HAS DONE SO MUCH FOR THIS AU

So what did he do? Sneak out of the Giant's Lair. Used the overgrown weeds to his advantage and would look around. Found out about larva and got fascinated by the fact bugs came from that. So whatever larva he could find he'd take back-- which wasn't often since most people wouldn't just leave their larva/eggs lying around.

Anyway he'd bring them home. The Deadlanders wouldn't register the larva/eggs as bugs or alive so they could just crawl around and munch on the grass until they eventually grew up. Alan started realizing "oh shit grow your own entertainment" when his first little stolen egg grew to a bug, a grasshopper (victim). Alan would basically use a jar to keep Victim from running off, would drop Deadlanders on him to watch the fights even if Victim sucked at fighting.

Now even if Alan doesn't recognize the bugs as living and thinking things, he isn't stupid. He notices how they use the shiny crystals he likes to collect to heal. So when he sees Victim nearly getting killed in one of the fights he puts two and two together and "gives" Victim the crystal. AKA impales him and literally kills Victim. When he notices Victim stops moving, throws him away and tries again.

He finds a hornet larva. Decides to try something different. Bugs use the crystals for health, so as the larva crawls around and eats he crushes up one of his crystals and mixes it into areas they know they like to eat in. Because of the magic in the crystals, whatever sticks in their bodies results in the larva becoming strong, healthy, and extremely powerful sorcerers.

Chosen fights-- both the Deadlanders and Alan-- but can't win. He tries running, but Alan rips off a wing and puts him in the jar. Eventually Alan gets lucky and finds a wasp larva, and unfortunately for Chosen, this one doesn't seem to understand anything other than following Alan. Of course y'all can guess what happens from here: Alan pits the two against eachother, Chosen tells Dark they can team up to fight Alan, and end up doing a lot of damage to him before running. It takes a long while for Alan to rebuild his health before he tries again. This time a lot more careful with a little bumblebee larva (Second). He keeps a very close eye on it to make sure it doesn't hurt him, and an even closer eye to make sure it doesn't get away.

AVA IV

Red's a ladybug, Green's a grasshopper, Blue's a firefly, and Yellow's a caddisfly. While Bugaria takes place in the Giant's Lair (AKA a abandoned human home)'s backyard, the color gang are from the front yard. They each have their own reasons to travel to Bugaria: Yellow has heard about Roach technology and really wants to see how it works for himself, Red wants to join the Explorer's Association and fill out his bestiary along the way, Blue wants to visit the Harvest Festival and give an offering for the goddess of Harvest, Venus' approval, and Green just wants to stick with his friends.

However getting to Bugaria is difficult. While before most people would take the swamp, the only thing that resulted in was a lot of tension and frustration since they couldn't communicate with the Leafbugs living there and would only result in a lot of deaths on both sides. The swamp got closed off, and as a result, left two main paths. The Caravan is the most popular for good reason: it is an extremely long road usually consisting of many bugs, although because the trip normally takes around a month, it is not safe from bandits nor the weather. A lot of injuries tend to happen and many come out malnourished. The other option takes a day. Just follow the path through the Giant's Lair. There won't be many Deadlanders, but if there are, only large enough groups of bugs or explorer teams can go through to ensure safety.

Since they're a group of four impatient, naive, younger bugs, the Color Gang goes through the Deadlands. It isn't that bad actually, until a little bumblebee catches Red's eye, and an glint of Blue catches Yellow's. Each go off path, Red finding a very excited and nervous Second Coming, and Yellow finding a half of the Roach's ancient Key.

And This catches Alan's attention, because that bee and that key are both of his things. They get to see Alan's spooky ass eye, and Second urges them to run, but before they can the Color Gang gets squished by Alan's claw and Second and the key get picked up. Second isn't happy, stings Alan right in the eye, and gets dropped right next to his friends. He tries helping them up so they can leave, but they're still struggling. He takes too long and Second and his friends get a jar slammed over them.

Alan keeps watch of them, now mostly curious because that's a LOT of bugs in one jar. He's expecting them to fight or do something, but instead... they just sit together. They just chat and sit against the glass, and what really shocks Alan is when they pull out food and start sharing it. I think this is the moment it clicks for Alan that there's something more to them. Alan leaves, and when he comes back he brings back two things. A good pile of food for them, and one of his crystals. He places them on the ground and lifts the jar before perching to see what they do. They're too injured to leave even with the crystal's healing, but Alan is just fascinated with this new discovery. That they're complicated, that they think. For as long as they stay in the Deadlands, which is only a few days, he tries making it as comfortable as possible to see what they like. Tries modeling after what he's seen other bugs do and live in.

They leave of course, taking Second and the key half with them. Alan doesn't like it, but he lets them. Now he's curious on if they'll come back, and now just has a lot to think about now that he's realized they can think and feel.

Chosen & Dark

After everything with Alan, the only thing Dark and Chosen knew was the other, so they clung. Dark itched for a fight, and Chosen was more curious about the outside world. Eventually this lead to the two becoming an explorer team.

It wasn't bad at first, but Dark of course gravitated to the shadier areas. Dark THRIVED in bounties and fights, meanwhile Chosen started second guessing whether or not he liked being an explorer. Every time they had to leave a kingdom or village, he'd always just felt disappointed. But Dark wanted to keep going, so he followed.

Eventually they started to get a reputation. They would do any quest, no matter the morals, and they wouldn't sell you out. They would get worse and worse clients, and were quickly teetering on the line of hitmen, and Chosen eventually had enough. He didn't see the point in it anymore, he liked the slow moments. Dark meanwhile thrived in a fight, because it was the only thing hes ever known.

This led to a fight between them. A bad one. Dark had been experimenting with Roach crystals to boost his own abilities, and somehow, Chosen ended up accidentally dragging Second and the Color Gang into it. There was a lot of collateral damage and Dark showed off how he was not above killing people, by targeting Second's friends. They died, and that mixture of sheer rage and grief was what triggered Second's skill in magic. Y'all know how this goes, Second beats the shit out of Dark Lord, revives his friends, but before he can land the killing blow, Chosen stops him.

Chosen doesn't want Dark to die, but he can't be with him anymore. So he rats on Dark. Gets him thrown in Rubber Prison, and Dark takes this as a betrayal. They depend on each other, and Chosen wouldn't even defend him and never visited him. Chosen regrets this decision every day and before he can get arrested too, he hides and is labeled as missing.

Anim VS Minecraft

This stumped me at first because how the hell do you mix bug fables and Minecraft but NO WORRIES I FOUND A WAY

After the Deadlands, first thing Color Gang does is sign up for the Explorer's Association. Unfortunately there can't be teams of 5, so they split into two teams: Blue and Yellow form Team Sunset, and Second, Red, and Green form Team Second. They do quests for a while, Yellow spends a lot of time focusing on the key half, and eventually they team up for a pretty important quest!

Not sure what this quest would be exactly, but basically they get lured into a cave and when they get into it Red starts acting weird. And then he starts attacking them and going for the key and yep if you've realized it WE FOUND A WAY TO ADD HEROBRINE FUCK YOU MINECRAFT CREEPYPASTA BUGSONA

Art once again by @tatos-stick-pile

Herobrine is a recently awakened Golden Orb Weaver spider who uses his silk to puppet Red around. This silk is SHARP too. He tries going for the key because he's heard of the artifact and its power and he really wants it to expand his territory. He gets his ass kicked when they figure out whats going on and he escapes.

Afterwards Yellow decides to be more secretive about the key half. They don't figure this out for a while though, but the entire reason Herobrine was expanding his territory is because he looks after lesser bugs ESPECIALLY ones that have recently awakened. He just hates regular bugs.

Purple

And I lied to start with Purple I have to start with an Explorer Team y'all should be familiar with-- unless youre coming from the bug fables fandom and to that i say hello how do you like the shitstorm so far. Anyway one Explorer Team, Team Orchid. It consists of an orchid mantis named Orchid and another mantis named Navy.

Orchid is an explorer for the sightseeing and to help people. Navy doesn't exactly care about that, he's mostly around to make sure she doesn't get herself killed. Eventually he gets an idea that they can get a pet for some extra defense. Orchid LOVES the idea, and so Navy drags her to the Forsaken Lands to find something strong enough.

Orchid falls in love with a mothfly and won't settle for anything else. That mothfly is Purple, a recently awakened mothfly who is extremely confused because he's only been around feral mothflies and its his instinct to stick with them. Anyway y'all know how this goes, Navy "trains" (aka beats) Purple, who can't fight back and goes to Orchid for comfort. Purple causes a massive rift in their relationship and its not even their fault. Orchid wanted a pet to dote on and Navy wanted something to train. But Orchid isn't stupid-- even if Purple is a mothfly and can't talk she starts recognizing he's awakened. He's a child. She starts treating him as such despite how much Navy HATES it and Purple of course starts seeing them as their parents and really looks up to them.

And one day Navy is sick of it. Takes Purple by the arm and drags him back to the Forsaken Lands and far from Orchid. Purple is nervous but still trusts him, thinks its for training. Navy drags him all the way to the abandoned Ant Settlement and tells him to stay there. To prove his training he needs to protect that settlement until he comes back to get them. Purple of course is "okay ❤️ yay❤️."

He doesn't come back. Neither does Purple. But Purple sticks to the settlement and protects it-- getting a little overly defensive of it. Overtime more mothflies are drawn to the area and of course they form little hivemind clusters and whoops! False Monarch 2. But since Purple is awakened and actually intelligent he has a lot more control over the mothfly clusters-- or False Citizens-- and they act more as an extension of him. Purple forms his own little cluster too-- and hates being separated from it and DESPISES being acknowledged as "just a mothfly" so he dresses with a mask and cloak to be a better bug. He gets a bit of a superiority complex as well due to just being surrounded by nothing but feral bugs that he can control.

Anyway the sudden re-population of this abandoned settlement with False Citizens does not go unnoticed. Especially because whenever one wanders close, Purple tends to have a citizen stalk and lurk around the edge until it creeps the bug out enough for them to leave. So a bounty is made once again for the False Monarch.

Blue and Green see it. They think it would be SO fun to lean into their competitive sides and see if whoever got the killing blow on the bounty would finally prove their team as better. So they go to the settlement, see the citizens staring and stalking them and ignore it. They aren't attacking them, after all. They're just being creepy.

They end up finding Purple who is NOT happy and is immediately defensive. But he's not attacking them. He's just kinda throwing a fit and making himself look bigger. Which is weird because bounties are usually extremely dangerous and hostile, but this one is just... throwing a fit. They end up just nearly dodging a fight when some of the citizens start grabbing Green and Blue to throw them out and Blue blurts out they don't want to fight. Turns out Purple does understand Bugnish, but can't speak it.

Great! So they don't have to kill the pretty chill bounty. But others don't know that, and they need to bring back proof they killed Purple to get the bounty taken down. They bring it up to Purple and after vague translations, they make a deal. Purple's been having trouble with a strong enemy near the settlement, so he gives them their mask and helps them defeat the enemy.

And its a big fucking spider, but thankfully they have Purple's range to help in the fight, and while its going smooth at first-- Purple ends up bailing. He's spent too long away from the settlement and figures since Blue and Green are strong enough that they'll be fine. They aren't. Because they needed Purple's range. Purple almost ends up getting them killed, the only reason they survived is because their friends realized they were gone for a long time and come just in time.

Green and Blue afterwards take the mask and leave. They're pissed at Purple but they can confront him another time, they mostly just want to be away from him at the moment.

KING LETS GO MY FAVORITE KING

Time for King! Y'all know King's deal. He has a child he loves with all his heart. In this AU he is a Violin Mantis and his little Goldie is a mantis nymph. King personally isn't an explorer, but Gold REALLY wants to be once and he always finds it difficult to say no to Gold.

Anyway Gold hears wind of a tourist thing. They're doing this mini-tour of the Deadlands in a 100% totally nothing will ever go wrong encased area. Its gonna focus on theories on the Deadlands and what Gold is more interested in-- how Explorers made it safer and how they traverse it.

King doesn't like it. Its called the Deadlands for a reason. But Gold really wants to and is begging him and is doing all his chores and being the most perfect little nymph so he can go. And they claim its safe. King finally caves and takes Gold, and y'all can guess what happens. Deadlander breaks through and kills his son right in front of him before the Explorer escorts can kill it.

So like any regular parent experiencing grief King vows to fucking blow up the Deadlands and everything in it. Not like anybody cares about that fucking place and is widely considered a No Man's Land. He ends up getting his hands on the other half to the Key and is obsessed with finding the other half.

AVM Season 3

While going towards the Termite Kingdom to hopefully find some clues on where the other key half is, King gets lost along the way and finds the abandoned Ant Settlement. False citizens are of course not happy and watch him, but he ignores them. He might as well search the place while he's here. He ends up finding Purple, whose not happy and already a little on edge because Blue and Green haven't come back despite promising they will.

King notices the bounty paper Green and Blue drop and promptly manipulates Purple. Tells them that they probably won't be coming back. But I imagine Green and Blue were yapping to Purple, mentioning the key half because both dont take it that seriously, and Purple sees King's key half and mentions it through a drawing.

King turns up the manipulation to 100. convinces Purple to take his citizens with them (wants to use them as a deadlander bait). If they get the key they'll be strong enough for their village. He just has to get the key from his friends and bring it to King.

Very cute doodle once again from @tatos-stick-pile

Purple does. A while after he's ditched the village to be with King, they run into Color Gang again. They're chatting and having fun and eventually Purple just... dissapears along with the key. Y'all should know what happens, the chase happens, Purple brings the key to King, he combines them and gets really strong and starts destroying shit. Big fight starts up, King focuses on superpowered Second, the color gang go after Purple, who isn't really that strong. He tries getting help from King, but King ignores him. Leaves him for dead.

This fucks up Purple. Because King introduced that fear and realization of abandonment in Purple. And Purple not only realizes how many mistakes he's made, but also realizes he's in fact a lesser bug. That's why nobody wants him. And people don't hesitate to kill lesser bugs when they're in their way. Purple gets both super emotional and terrified for his life, and is forced to abandon his beloved cloak and mask to make a run for it. Green pursues him, everything else happens.

Not sure how everyone splitting up would work so far, but Red somehow gets Herobrine and some of the bugs he watches involved in the fight. Green convinces Purple to go after King, and the bigger fight starts. King uses the Key to attack anyone and hes close enough to his goal hes gotten a lot more brutal. Will just hold whoevers nearest and shoot them point blank with it. Y'all know that scene. The scene where King is nearly killing Purple and goes through that flashback and is slapped in the face with the realization he sees Purple as his own son. That still happens, King gives up, helps Purple and Purple still sticks to him.

Victim & the Mercenaries

Shortly after being discarded by Alan, a cordyceps fungus found and started growing in the grasshopper's body. He is EXTREMELY lucky, because the tiniest crumbs of magic crystal left in his body was just enough magic to balance out the fungus sticking to him and passing on its memory without completely overloading it and turning him into a zombie. But its not perfect, and it still shows in the mini holes in his body. He also woke up fucking PISSED enough to turn him into a Locust

I'm gonna keep this section extremely vague since we still don't know what happened to Victim in AvA canon. Just know he built a massive "charity" corporation in the Termite Kingdom that claims its going to find a way to turn the Deadlands useful. AKA he wants an excuse to have enough money to research a way into killing Alan.

This involves hiring explorer teams, leading him to the Mercenaries: Hazard, Ballista, Primal, and Agent. They are explorers who work in the shadier areas of the Association and are EXTREMELY difficult to hire as they only accept high rewards up-front.

Some concepts for Victim and Agent since I haven't settled on a design for them...

Chosen and Dark catch Victim's eye, since they're rumored to have attacked an Omega and lived. However since Chosen is missing, Victim and the Mercenaries stop by Rubber Prison to visit Dark. Now Dark and the Mercenaries were very well known in the same area, so they know each other. Doesn't mean Dark likes them.

They convince Dark to help them with the promise of his bands back and a dead Omega. Dark thinks Chosen would absolutely love a dead Omega, and so he doesn't hesitate.

Shit happens. Chosen and Second get captured by the mercenaries and Chosen is PISSED at Dark despite all the regret. They're both mad at each other but Dark's doesn't last long when Victim starts torturing Chosen for information. He's mad at Chosen but he doesn't want that.

He blows up at Victim a little at it, so to get Dark to listen, Victim rips off a good chunk of Chosen's remaining wing. That makes Dark stand down, and now Dark doesn't know what to do. Chosen feels too guilty about everything to say anything, and Dark is too prideful to apologize. More shit happens-- Victim has the gem of Hoaxe's crown. Long story short it can brainwash Hornets, which Victim starts using when Chosen keeps refusing. That pushes Dark more off of Victim but he can't do anything lest Victim directs it all back on Chosen tenfold.

More vague shit. Mr alan becker i need the next part of episode six soon please. Anyway big fight in the Deadlands. Everyone's in there and Victim wants Alan DEAD. But Victim is getting progressively more and more pissed off because despite being attacked Alan is being as gentle as he can. He's going the extra mile to make sure he doesn't kill them. Anyway Dark ends up snapping Chosen's antennae to break him out of the brainwashing and Victim gets cooked.

Chosen decides to not murder Victim-- mostly because clearly that's not permanent and its too good for him. Victim is extremely upset about this because the fact nobody is killing him and just being weirdly merciful and the fact hes lost all control has sent him into a breakdown. Its challenging all the rules hes lived by and how he thought the world worked. Hes screaming and shouting at them.

Which attracts the attention of another Omega. Now the thing about Omegas is because they're pretty fragile due to being mostly bones, it means they need to build armor to survive. And they're territorial. Usually if an Omega picks a fight the one with the better armor survives.

Once again-- art provided by @tatos-stick-pile THEY ARE COOKING

And to protect the bug he KNOWS he hurt and was alive-- Alan attacks the other Omega despite already being extremely injured and losing most his armor. The others dont have a choice but to hide out of sight, and eventually the other Omega wins and kills Alan. Tries looking around for the interesting thing that was shouting but finds nothing and fucks off along with a few undamaged parts of Alan's armor.

Everyone except for Second and the Color Gang decide to take their leave. I imagine throughout the story theres a lot of moments where Alan works on making it up to Second and just truely shows he cares and is regretful. So Second tries reviving him, but the problem is that Alan is just... fuckin' massive. Even when they're dead or asleep they're so big their bodies get mistaken for terrain.

It doesn't work at first. Until Yellow finds the gem Victim left behind that he used to control Chosen, and he learned that this can boost magic. He gives it to Second and he completely exhausts himself and they revive Alan. Yipee!! Everyone is saved happy ending go home its over

After Everything

Chalk my liar count to 2 y'all

Purple lives with King, and King has officially adopted him. They still have their own issues they're working towards, but they're slowly getting there together.

Dark and Chosen don't know what to do at first. Chosen wants a chill and peaceful life, but Dark directly contrasts that. He's much more well known and hated than Chosen. Just by being with him, he ruins Chosen's happiness, but he just wants to stay with him. Chosen wants to stay with Dark as well. Thankfully, one of the mercenaries pops up. They're pissed at first, but all they do is mention a town.

Looking into it, after the attempted takeover half a century ago, the bandit leader Astotheles got inspired by the celebration. He wanted a home, a nation for his people, so he left Bugaria because it obviously wasn't gonna happen there. Outside the nation's borders, he established his own village. Where bugs who are abandoned or discarded can come to start anew.

Chosen and Dark decide to move to there, leaving behind and finally moving on from everything that happened to them.

Victim on the other hand went missing. He took that loss HARD. Agent thinks he has an idea on where he went, but needs extra help, so he puts up a request. He's not bringing the other mercs because they don't know about the cordyceps thing and Victim prefers to keep it hidden.

Color Gang ends up taking it up. They are low on berries and its the only request on the board. Nobody is happy about this. Agent makes sure to go with them, and he leads them all to Snakemouth Den. In the den there's a lot of spores and magic in the air, and it gets worse the deeper you go in because in that cave is an ancient Roach laboratory where experimented on cordyceps and magic in an attempt to recreate the immortality of the Everlasting Sapling (that thing is long dead it doesnt matter).

Anyway Victim went here for a power boost. Thinks he just needs to try again and he'll have more control and he'll win. Now he aint thinkin' clearly because the magic that is so goddamn potent in this cave is messin with the fungus. And y'all remember what i said?

"He is EXTREMELY lucky, because the tiniest crumbs of magic crystal left in his body was just enough magic to balance out the fungus sticking to him and passing on its memory without completely overloading it and turning him into a zombie."

Yeah. Ends up shanking himself with the crystals to try and force more magic in him and it makes the fungus go stupid crazy and completely overgrow out and through his exoskeleton and whoops! say goodbye to your sentience. Control freak loses everything even the control over himself. Fun little boss fight I also imagine he has a poison thing going on.

Anyway they end up knocking him down and restraining him, Agent rips out all the crystals. Victim isn't dead yet but he's in awful shape, and congrats you earned Second's pity. Second heals him and Agent pays them a shit ton for that and brings Victim home to help him recover.

Anyway thats it for the AU so far holy god that was so much longer than I expected if you made it here we should go on a date to texas roadhouse together

#anim vs bf au #my writing #animator vs animation #ava #avm #animation vs minecraft #ramble #long post

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detachedminxsfics · 2 years

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Spit

Read Part II

Characters: Negan x Alexandrian F!Reader, Maggie, Gabriel, Elijah

Summary: Negan and you were split from the rest of the group, and when he decides the mission is a lost cause, a fight ensues. Set in the events of S11 E5.

Word Count: 3.5K+

Warnings: NSFW - Rough vaginal sex, spitting, mild choking, very mild blood play, hate fuck, dom Negan, mortal enemies, humiliation, xtra DILFy S11 Negan, filthiest shit I've ever written tbh

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this, I needed to write some Negan angst. And I'm tempted to write a part two? 😫

Negan trailed behind you as you pushed open the door to the place you knew the group would attempt to regroup at, your gun raised vigilantly in order to scan your surroundings. When you saw nothing of concern you slipped your pistol back into your holster, settling down a little knowing you'd have to spend a considerable amount of time here. Until the sound of a familiar voice put tension in the air.

"So, what? We hang around here with our fingers up our asses just hoping that the others are alive, letting those assholes catch up to us?" Negan broke the silence, and you already hoped he had never said anything in the first place.

You, Negan, Maggie, Alden, Gabriel, Daryl and whoever else may be left had been split, and unfortunately, you ended up with Negan. You'd ended up taking the same cover in a fire fight, and he pulled you with him when the two of you made a run for it.

"I'm not abandoning my friends, but I wouldn't expect you to understand that." You bit back, glaring at him with cold narrowed eyes.

Alike Maggie, you'd never really forgiven Negan for what he did that one dark night, taking two of your family like that. Abraham and Glenn were good men, more than that, and they didn't deserve to be put down in that way. It made you sick to have to visually reflect upon it, so much of that night was a blur, yet vivid in the worst of parts.

"You know what, yeah, I don't. We've got some supplies, and we don't even know if the others are alive, why not take the win now? Get ahead of those shitdicks, and not wait around here to die like sitting ducks for people that are probably already dead."

What was left of your patience thinned out and crumbled, for it was never really all that durable when it came to Negan anyway.

"Just shut up! Fuck you, Negan. They're alive, and they'll be coming here, and we're gonna wait for them whether you like it or not. So sit, down." The venom in your words couldn't be anymore potent, clear as day as you snapped and raised your voice at him.

You caught him clenching his jaw, suppressing the urge to turn this into a screaming match, and it fell silent again. Having figured the matter had been resolved or somewhat stifled you headed over to your bag and sifted through your things, making sure you still had all of your belongings, until you heard shuffling. When you looked up to investigate the source of the sound Negan was packing, gathering his bags and some of the supplies that we'd scavenged. Things people had risked and lost their lives for.

"What do you think you're doing?" You began to interrogate him, approaching him to stand with your arms crossed against your chest completely stand-offish.

"I'm leaving." He answered bluntly, a short response meant to minimise your frustration, but it only worsened.

"Not with those supplies." You reaffirmed just as bluntly, leading Negan to sigh in response.

"I'm taking 'em back to Alexandria." Negan replied plainly, every offhanded response from him fuelling the fire of your rage more and more.

"You don't just get to cop out like this, there are responsibilities. This mission isn't over."

There was no guarantee that those supplies would make it back to Alexandria in his hands, and you wouldn't let his self-pitiful attitude go unnoticed.

"It is for me."

For him, for him? It was always about what Negan needed, what Negan wanted. What about what your people wanted, what Alexandria needs? His selfish tendencies were the final step in urging you over breaking point, and so you succumbed to your irritation, albeit in a very high school way. You snatched the handle of the bag he was holding from his hand and tossed it aside, giving him a hard shove that sent him stumbling back a few steps. He responded rather hastily by seizing your forearms, attempting to dissuade you from attacking him any further. You only thrashed against his grip, grunting your frustration inbetween your attempts to pull your arms from his hold. With all the momentum the two of you began to turn, heading in an entirely different direction as Negan furrowed his brows and attempted to snap you of it.

"Stop it!" Negan belted out, his gravelly voice booming from having raised his voice at you.

It didn't deter you though, and you continued to struggle until you eventually freed yourself, slamming your hands hard against his chest and leaving him attempting to find balanced footing again. With the force of that final push a space had formed between the two of you, both of you cautious as to whether one or the other would be the first to close it, to continue fighting one another. But you did neither, just stared at one another. That dark look in his eye was swirling again, a murderous stare that you knew all too well, and you were sure you were doing the same. You were panting from loss of breath due to how much energy you had just expended, but Negan stood untempered. Negan was the first to move, beginning a slow approach that had you stepping back from him further and further. Though he moved in small steps distance was closing fast, and you felt the internal panic when you felt a hard solid wall press up against your back, having backed yourself into the hypothetical corner.

"Shit." You muttered quietly, Negan taking his final few steps until he was directly opposite you, your chest practically pressed against his. He said nothing, and his stare remained unintelligible, simply looming over you without one word.

"Fuck you." Unashamed you made one last dig at him, and alarmingly enough, Negan smiled at you.

"If it'd shut you up for good, happily." He spoke lowly, his husky words right by your ear.

The response from him so sincere and unabashed you could feel your blood boiling, and you settled with the first thing that came to mind. Gathering some of the saliva in your mouth you parted your lips slightly and then quickly closed them, spitting right in his face. He groaned as he felt the wetness hit his cheek, reaching up and wiping his face dry with the back of his fingerless gloves, never once breaking eye contact with you. To your misfortune the saliva you'd kindly deposited onto his face was not enough to humiliate him entirely, but had some of the desired effect you had wanted. Negan looked riled, though he had tried to remain complacent the faint squint of his eyes gave him away, and the subtle clench to his jaw as he stared you down. Wordlessly, he flattened his palms against the wall either side of your head, entrapping you in the position you'd incidentally put yourself in.

"Open your mouth." Negan demanded bitterly, and you felt your cheeks fill with heat, utterly stupefied by what he had just asked you to do.

"Hell no." You bit back, earning a dangerous warning stare from Negan.

"Open your damn mouth."

You stared at him firm in your decision not to, and he waited a few moments before realising you wouldn't budge, and decided to handle you accordingly. With unanticipated rapid movements one of the palms Negan had flattened against the wall he'd snatched back and used to grip your jaw, applying pressure at the sides so hard and in such a way it began to force your mouth open. Forcibly Negan parted your lips, and you whined against his pressurised touch, restrained into anticipating his next move. Gathering the fluids best he could Negan brought all of his spit to the front of his tongue and leaned in enough to the point where he knew it would land on your tongue, spitting hard into your open mouth. You coughed a little from the shock of Negan's spit flying into your mouth, some of it escaping down your throat, only earning an approving chuckle from him.

"You liked that, didn't you, me spitting in your pretty little mouth? Be honest with me, I'll know if you're not."

The fact that Negan had recognised the shift in your expression before you even knew yourself startled you, like he could see through any deception or emotions you may have. Disturbingly enough, you'd enjoyed it to some extent. Maybe it was just the adrenaline from having taken out some of your frustrations on him, and spitting in his face after telling him to go fuck himself, but other feelings had began to surface. Urges that you couldn't quite distinguish.

"In your dreams." You remonstrated, not quite as firmly as you had hoped when you sounded it out in your head.

Negan grinned in response to your obvious dismay of the way that being manhandled by him made you feel, coming to terms with his own enjoyment of treating you like this.

"Oh don't worry, you're a goddamn nightmare."

Negan slammed his lips against yours, and it was like a floodgate had been opened, emotions and chemical reactions amongst other things consuming you entirely. You moved your lips back against his, attempting to keep up with the roughness. His stubble skimmed across your skin as you decided to nip his lip a little, drawing blood and causing him to groan into your mouth.

"Shit, should've known you'd be a freaky one." Negan commented as he swiped his thumb across his lip, gathering some of the blood there and smearing it across your own.

You kissed again, a hard and rough movement of one another's mouths, smearing his blood across both of your lips. In hungry movements Negan began to gather the fabric of your shirt in his hands, putting adequate tension on the material before yanking it hard. You gasped as you felt cool air hit your skin, he'd ripped your damn shirt open, the buttons flying onto the ground beneath you and pinging against the wood floor to reveal your tight fitting tank top underneath.

"Negan!" You exasperated, swatting him on the arm from the shock of what he had done.

He only snickered from having exposed you in such a way, closing his hand around the wrist of the hand you'd used to swat him with a firm grip and slamming it back against the wall, your knuckles faintly stinging from the impact of the collision.

"Oh c'mon, you can have mine." Negan suggested, not giving you time to respond as you felt his lips again.

Negan's fingers hooked in the hem of your tank top and began to hike the fabric up, pulling back momentarily only to help yank the top over your head. He threw it carelessly onto the floor, and you decided to return the favour. Unlike him, you unbuttoned his wrinkled blue shirt from bottom to top. Meticulously sliding your fingers beneath the material at the top of his shoulders and pushing it down his arms. The moment his shirt had gathered at his wrists you reached around and pulled from the back, tossing it into an area somewhere around yours. The moments to come were spent removing your clothes as fast as you could, a desire brewing deep within your body, a vile way to feel for him. It made you sick. With your panties dangling loosely around one of your ankles, your tank top hiked up your chest just enough to expose your breasts, Negan hoisted you up. He'd discarded the light grey tshirt he wore beneath his blue one, chest now bare to expose his generously hairy chest and the beaded necklace hanging just below his collarbone. With hands gripping the skin beneath your thighs he wedged himself in the space between them, using the way he'd mushed you between the wall and himself to support you whilst he worked at the zipper of his jeans, pushing it down until it came slack at his calves. He was left in nothing but boxers.

"I've always wondered what you looked like beneath those clothes, and your body is smokin'." Negan knew that subtle tease would piss you off, and you responded by glaring at him, wrapping your arms around his neck for support.

"Don't speak, at least not right now, just fuck me. Hopefully you can prove useful for once." You rebuked, and Negan raised his brows to feign offense.

"Ohh is that so? We'll see about that."

During your back and forth snapping he'd pushed his boxers down and lined himself up with you, slamming upward without warning. His hands returned to the underside of your thighs whilst you cried out in pain, him not even bothering to ease you into it. He didn't wait for you to adjust either, moving his hips as he groaned from the feeling of being inside you. The pain eased off rather fluidly, and you were left with the most reprehensible satisfaction. Negan ground into you, totally unbridled thrusts that had you whining so pathetically you were sure you'd attract a horde, or be heard for miles.

"That's what I fucking thought, do you like this baby? You like being used huh?"

Overwhelmed with your conflicting feelings for him you unwrapped one of your arms from his neck and slapped him, a harsh hit that had Negan grumbling from the sharp pain in his cheek. He groaned and took one of his hands from your thigh, placing it on your throat with the faintest pressure, it was more an injunction.

"Keep your hands to yourself or I'll tie 'em, do you want me to stop?"

You were quick to admonish him from stopping, a hint of desperation in your tone that had you realise you were damn near begging him not to.

"No no, Negan don't stop. Please..."

He grinned at your plead, his half lidded eyes haughty with arrogance. He'd leaned forward now, his forehead tipped against yours whilst his hand remained around your throat, noses brushing as you exchanged air panting hot breath into one another's mouths. This was filthy, sinful even. The dirty feeling of being so full, full of him, the pleasure he filled you with subduing you into this breathy mess. You couldn't think about anything other than his hard and fast thrusts, your hips connecting with every unconstrained movement. The group could return at any moment, walk in on Negan bottoming you out against the wall of an abandoned house, but you weren't entirely sure either of you cared. To finally give each other something worth giving, to put all the burning hatred and distaste you had for one another to use was addicting. Intoxicating.

"Holy shit." You fell into a string of curses, your one way of vocalising the feeling of knotting in your abdomen, trembles working their way through your legs.

Fuelled by your approaching release you moved your hands down from the nape of his neck to the back of his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin and clawing your way down his back making Negan grit his teeth. Negan was agonisingly close too, his face buried in the crook of your neck and occasionally sucking marks into the skin there. When he knew he was about to tip you over the edge he moved his head back, his face coming back to lie in front of yours again. Strands of hair had fallen from his impromptu slick, cascading over his sweat beaded skin and leaving him totally disheveled. Knowing that you caused this, made him look like that was a confidence boost to say the least, and it only helped to fuel your impending orgasm. Frantically the hand he'd left resting against your throat moved up to hold your jaw, less harshly than he had before, but firm. He was holding your head to leave you with no choice but to face him directly, meeting his eye with the utmost devout attention.

"That's it baby, I wanna see you, I want to remember how you looked when I gave you the best fucking of your life." He murmured, mesmerised by the look of pleasure etched across your features.

Unsurprisingly you came undone, wholly ruined as one of the most intense orgasms you had ever felt ripped through you. Your mewls filled the room, and you squeezed your eyes shut, head aching to tip back but unable to due to his touch. He watched with unashamed inclination, basking in it as he reached his own release. With appropriate haste he removed himself from you and emptied his release onto the floor, coarse groans joining your own faded whimpers. Subsequently riding out both of your vehement highs you remained holding one another. Your legs wrapped loosely around his waist and your hair messy, the rise and fall of your chest as your breathing stabilised becoming gradually softer. Your head was resting against his chest, and he started running his fingers through your hair, wordlessly sharing this earnest moment with one another. Every part of you still hated him, wanted to hurt him for all the pain he'd caused you and the people you cared for, but you could see through your own blinding hatred for the first time in years. The feeling was only temporary, but you savored it for what you could. To be at peace.

"We need to get dressed, can you help me?" You were faintly embarrassed to ask, but your legs were still too shaky to stand on unsupported, and the adrenaline hadn't subsided much either.

"Alright." He whispered, planting a meek kiss at the top of your head.

Neither of you thought too much of it, and Negan helped you dress presentable again. He rolled your tank top down your body and helped slip his blue shirt on you, buttoning a few of the buttons and practically resembling the way he usually wore it. Then he guided your panties back up your legs and hauled your jeans up past your thighs, your palms resting against his shoulders as he bent down to assist you in order to allow you the support you needed to maintain balance. By time he'd helped you dress you were feeling a little better, doing your best to ignore the sure soreness you'd feel in your crotch soon enough. Negan pulled his pants and boxers up from his ankles, pulling his grey tee over his head and dusting off any dust and residue it'd gathered from the floor. His arms were exposed now, but it'd have to do until you found something else for you to cover up with. He was the one who caused this issue in the first place, so rightly he paid the consequences. Now fully dressed you stood opposite one another, gazing in an untold way that only the two of you would ever know the reason behind, and the door opened. Startled you turned to watch the door and had your hand readied over your pistol, Negan too readily raising his crowbar. Relieved both of you lowered your weapons and wary demeanours when Maggie and Elijah supporting a worse for wear Gabriel walked through the door, and you sighed, a smile spreading across your face. You hurried over and threw your arms around Maggie, which she more than happily returned.

"You made it." Maggie leaned back to get a good look at you, sharing a moment with you whilst Gabriel closed the door behind them.

When she noticed the change of shirt, most noticeably the fact that you were wearing Negan's, she glanced over at him, looking back and forth between the two of you.

"What the hell happened to you two?" Maggie exclaimed, both intrigued and concerned.

You opened your mouth to speak and stumbled over your words a little, causing Negan to chime in.

"One of those reaper assholes got the jump on her, and her shirt got messed up. I gave her mine." Negan explained from the other side of the room, the two of you exchanging glances as you silently thanked him for his excuse.

It wasn't a total lie, but he had bent the truth, that was for sure. There had been a tussle with a reaper in question, but you won it indefinitely, and you took cover as a gunshot flew past your head just afterwards. That's when your paths had crossed. Maggie nodded and held your face in her hands, your eyebrow and cheek had gotten busted, and Negan was worse for wear too. You supposed a rough fuck after the chaos you and Negan had gotten out of wasn't the brightest idea, your bones achy and brittle now.

"Let's rest up a little, gather our strength." She suggested and you nodded in agreement.

Maggie went on to explain to you the both fates and unknown whereabouts of the others scattered in the surrounding area, and how those presumably alive were still out there. And so you spoke simply, a sincere suggestion that you were sure everybody but Negan shared a desire to uphold.

"So we wait."

You briefly turned to look at Negan, and you could see how his eyes were faintly narrowed with his disapproval of the idea, but you could care less. And he knew you did too. You were back at each other's throats again, and you couldn't have loved it more.

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