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#if you have a different weapon you think they'd use i want to know i think about this like it's my job
thegnomelord · 4 months
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Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.
The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.
So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.
Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?
I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!
It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"
Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.
CW:NSFW
But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—
Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.
It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.
Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.
Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?
You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.
When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.
It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.
You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).
You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.
Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.
You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.
Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.
Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.
You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."
Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"
"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."
"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."
"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.
When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.
He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.
"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.
"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.
But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.
You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.
You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.
Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.
His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.
"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"
One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.
"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"
"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."
You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.
"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."
"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.
"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.
Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.
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subbmissivesuccubus · 9 months
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Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku falling in love with you at first sight.
They're out on a mission, several demons sighted at a village and the number was so high they needed multiple people to come and fix the problem. Of course, it was a cake walk for the two of them. Their weapons flashing under the moonlight as it cut through the necks of their enemies like butter, demon after demon falling to their blade.
Despite the task being easy, it still took a few hours so by the time the job was done, they were a bit tuckered out. Every demon was slain- or so they thought.
A demon burst from the rubble, it's sharp claws aiming for Rengoku's face. It was too fast, neither of the Hashira able to react in time as the demon was but a centimeter away from clawing Rengoku's eyes out when you showed up.
Using your breath of Thunder, you cracked through the air like a lightning strike, covering ground within seconds as you managed to cut off the demon's arm before cutting its head off, saving your senior of any injury.
You put away your weapon as the demon disintegrated in front of you, bowing down respectfully to the two pillars, a ranking you hoped to reach one day. They recognized you, having seen you out and about before but this was the first time they'd seen you in action.
Both of their hearts skipped a beat. Beautiful, talented and powerful woman was a plenty within the demon slayer corporation but there was something about you that was just...different. Perhaps it was your kind heart in helping the wounded. Perhaps it was the confidence you carried yourself with. Perhaps it was because you were just too darn cute. But whatever the reason may be, they were enamored by you and couldn't keep their eyes off of you.
Once you helped the others in cleaning up and getting the wounded the help they need, you went back to the two Hashira who were strangely dazed.
"I shall get going now." you reported with a bow, "I'm glad I could be of service."
"Marry me." both of them said simultaneously.
"...huh?"
Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku roping you into sexual escapades as a form of 'training'
You had rejected their marriage proposal, stating that while you respected them, you didn't know them personally and didn't want a husband(s) that you weren't fond of.
They were respectful of that, stating that a great way to get to know each other would be through training. You thought it was unbelievable that two Hashira's were interested enough in you to take time of their schedules to train with you, much less want to marry you, but you decided to agree. Learning from the best would be an invaluable experience, afterall.
"I-I- thought you said we were gonna t-train!" You squealed, tossing your head back against the pillow as Uzui slid a second finger inside you, your pussy gushing around him.
You could barely recollect how you got here, a room in an inn, at the mercy of your two seniors. Your mind was a jumbled mess as their hands and lips attacked your body, hungry kisses against your neck while stripping you of your uniform. Time seemed to go by fast yet slow at the same time, eventually ending up on a bed with Rengoku sucking your breasts while Uzui made himself familiar with your pussy.
"It is training." the sound Hashira said with a smirk, curling his fingers inside you just right, making you gasp. He stuffed his fingers of his other hand into your mouth, making you choke.
"This is to help your technique." he said, "Control yourself and focus on your breathing."
As he said that, Rengoku's lips left your nipple, leaving it a saliva covered stiff bud before moving down and taking your clit into his mouth, making you scream around Uzui's fingers. Your body shook from the pleasure, never having experienced this before.
You knew their claim that this was for training was complete bullshit but dammit- you couldn't bring yourself to care.
Uzui was so deliciously huge compared to you. He was twice your size, his muscular body enveloping you completely as he toyed with your body with ease. His bulging muscles and washboard abs made you drool, your eyes wandering to his nether regions, pussy growing wetter when you saw a big bulge straining against his pants.
Rengoku ran hot, literally. His touch made you shiver as he ran his warm hands over your body, a comforting contrast to the way his hot tongue was assaulting your clit. He sucked on it like a candy, flicking it around before giving it a gentle nibble, making you squeal. With a physique just as impressive as Uzui's, his bright eyes filled with passion and desire made you feel dizzy.
"Focus." Uzui said with a click of his tongue, pushing his fingers further down your throat, making you gag, "you're getting distracted."
'I can't help it!' You tried to defend, but what came out was a bunch of gurgles and gags, unable to say anything.
"If you can't handle this," Rengoku said, giving your clit a sweet kiss before he straightened himself up, "what will you do if a demon attacks you and tries to choke you?"
"Exactly~" Uzui cooed, starting to move his fingers in and out of your throat, a slower rhythm from what he was doing to your cunt, "Bring your breathing under control and maybe, we'll let you cum~"
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libraryofgage · 5 months
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Addams Family B-Side (2)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one)
Hello, and welcome back to Addams Family B-Side, where I take my Addams Family Steddie idea and flip the cassette tape
This is part of a larger series in which I give Steve Harrington good parents from different shows/movies/etc. If there are any other people you think would make good parents for Steve, let me know! I'll take them into consideration and see if inspiration sparks :D
Also, there's a meme at the end, so enjoy that hfjks
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)
---------
Just because Steve finds Eddie Munson fascinating, that doesn't mean he's going to immediately move to wooing the guy. Well. He would, but his mother has some reasonable yet strict rules about these things, the first of all being that Steve can't like someone just for a pretty face. Or sizable personal wealth. He's got to talk to the person to figure out if they can stand each other before commencing the romancing.
Steve doesn't see himself getting a chance to talk to Eddie anytime soon, so he morosely (and it's not even fun this time) puts his fascination on the back burner for the rest of the day.
Then school ends, and Pubert has some after-school commitment, so Steve waits for him in the grossest bathroom he can find on campus. It's near the fine arts hall, has a flickering light above the mirror, and sports mold in one corner that Steve is tempted to harvest for Grandmama. He bets it'd make a great ingredient for something.
He's just about to scrape some of the mold away when the door slams open. Steve looks up in time to see Eddie (his eyes wide and somewhat terrified, and Steve is briefly angry and consumed by the thought that he's the only one who should be making Eddie scared like that) slip across the tile and crash into the wall on the far side of the bathroom.
Steve is momentarily stunned by Eddie's appearance, his heart lurching in his chest and the sudden urge to hide behind something rearing its head. In the back of his mind, he remembers his father describing the first time he saw Debbie; how he clammed up and was so in awe of her that he couldn't say a thing. Steve finally gets it. If he tried to speak right now, he'd probably only mumble or mutter something unintelligible.
Steve is about to try anyway when the door slams open again and three other boys walk in. They're wearing letterman jackets, and Steve recognizes one of them from lunch. He wasn't the boy who called Eddie a prick, but he was sitting at that table and looking particularly annoyed. Now, he just looks taken aback by Steve's presence, and the feeling is mutual.
"You're that new kid, right?" he asks, his lips pulled back in a sneer as he looks Steve up and down. "Get out."
"I was here first," Steve says, frowning slightly as he glances from the boys to Eddie. "What are you doing?"
"We're teaching this dipshit a lesson for disrespecting us," the guy says, cracking his knuckles and narrowing his eyes at Steve. "So, unless you want your ass kicked, too, get out."
Oh. This is bullying. Steve blinks, a sudden glee building in his chest. He glances at Eddie. "Were you planning to fight back?" he asks, figuring he won't take that fun away.
Eddie stares at him like he's clinically insane, and Steve is a little flattered. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie asks, throwing a hand out and gesturing at the guys. "They're brick shithouses."
Steve hums softly and nods, swinging his backpack off his shoulders and opening the main pocket. As he's rummaging around, he hears the ringleader of the jocks (that's what they'd be called in a movie, he thinks) scoff at him. "Are you fucking dumb? Or are you that eager for a ride in an ambulance?" he asks.
Finally, Steve finds what he's looking for and smiles. "Oh. No. I just had to get a weapon," he says, pulling his travel mace out of his bag. He presses a button and spikes release from the ball on the end. Steve looks up at the jocks with an eager smile. "Who first?"
"What the fuck is that?!"
Steve blinks, a little worried about the public education system. "It's a weapon. A mace, to be exact. There's three of you. This evens the odds," he explains.
The three take a step back, looking at Steve like he's clinically insane, and this time he's disgusted by the gesture. "You're fucking crazy," the first one says before turning heel and leaving the bathroom. The other two follow closely behind, and Steve has to stifle the sheer disappointment.
He sighs and retracts the spikes, placing the mace back into his bag. "Are you disappointed you didn't get to fight?" Eddie asks, pulling Steve's attention back.
Eddie is noticeably more relaxed now, and he's looking at Steve like he's an enigma. That's not quite as good as clinically insane, but it's still flattering nonetheless. Steve swallows down the nerves that suddenly appear again, trying to channel his mother's calm confidence instead. "A little," he admits, zipping up his bag before slinging it back onto his shoulders. "I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington."
"Oh, uh, Eddie Munson."
"I know. I saw you at lunch."
Eddie perks up a little, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah? And what did you think, Harrington?" he asks.
Steve stares at him for a moment before taking a step forward, the faint scent of weed and cheap body spray making its way to him. He makes a quick mental note to look into colognes for one that would fit Eddie best (perhaps something crisp and harsh like a wild blizzard with inescapable winds). "I think," Steve says, holding Eddie's gaze, "that you've got incredible conviction."
"Uh, thanks?"
"You're welcome," Steve says, studying Eddie a moment longer. "Let me know if they bother you again. I can pull out a bomb next time."
Before Eddie can respond, the door swings open for a third time. Steve looks over his shoulder and pulls back when he sees Pubert. "Ready to go?" Pubert asks, glancing between the two. "Or am I interrupting something?"
"Not interrupting. And yeah, ready to go."
"Wait, how do you know Pubert Addams?" Eddie asks, looking between the two with a frown. The emotion in his eyes is recognizable if only because Steve has seen it in his mother's eyes when someone beats her to a sale or happens to be wearing a nicer necklace. Jealousy, plain and simple.
Steve grins at Eddie, ready to soothe his jealousy when Pubert cuts in. "Save it," he says, grabbing Steve's hand, "we're gonna be late." With that, he pulls Steve out of the bathroom and down the hall.
"What was that for?" Steve asks.
"I've got to get my entertainment somehow," Pubert replies, smirking as he drops Steve's hand. "Watching someone be jealous will do for a while."
-----
When Steve gets home, leaving Pubert on the sidewalk without another glance because he's too excited to get inside and tell his mother about the crush that he's talked to, he finds only his father in the kitchen. Without needing to be asked, Fester says, "Debbie and Morticia went to get their nails done. It was an emergency. Apparently, Debbie couldn't tear open letters as easily anymore."
Steve nods once and drops his bag onto the island. "I'm in love," he announces.
His father freezes, a tray of roasted vegetables in his hands. A few moments pass before Fester fully processes Steve's words, and he asks, "Have you talked to them? You know your mother's rule."
"I have," Steve says, unable to help a grin, "and he's perfect."
Fester drops the tray onto the stovetop, and Steve suddenly finds himself lifted into the air and spun around. "In love! Oh, I hope it's miserable for you," Fester says.
Steve laughs, nearly tripping over his feet when Fester sets him down. "I haven't decided how to approach him yet," he admits, grabbing onto the counter for support.
"Tell me about him," Fester says, grabbing Steve's shoulders and staring intensely at him. It's like he thinks he'll be able to read Steve's mind if he refrains from blinking long enough.
Steve pushes his father into one of the chairs at the kitchen's island. "His name is Eddie Munson. He's got this wild look to him. Like, his hair is all wavy and kinda poofy like he got half-electrocuted. And his eyes are the most beautiful swamp-mud brown I've ever seen. He speaks with conviction and has a shirt with a demon head on it and has all these rings and spikes on his vest. And he looks incredible when he's terrified. I mean, if I hadn't been so angry, I would've proposed right there," Steve gushes, the words falling from him in a breathless rush.
"What made you angry?" Fester asks, quickly latching to the last point.
"These...jocks. That's what they're called. Jocks. They were chasing him for stuff he said at lunch. He made this whole speech at lunch, by the way. It was incredible. Way too short and just barely addressing the actual issues and he'd never win a single political campaign. Anyway, these jocks, they chased him into the bathroom where I was, and they had him outnumbered and were muscular, so he was scared of getting beat up, I think. They threatened to beat me up, too, which I was excited about, but they ran away when I pulled out my travel mace. I mean, how rude is that? It's just bad form to run when someone's pulled out a weapon."
"And he wasn't angry about you taking his chance to fight?" Fester asks.
"Not at all! He seemed relieved. I think he might be better with, you know, poisons or something," Steve explains, shrugging slightly. He knows everyone has their specialties; he's a master of physical brawls and fights, Pubert does best with explosives, his mother just has a way with words and manipulation, and his father can give people the creeps just by looking at them.
Fester nods, an eager grin taking over his face. "You've got to start wooing him!" he says, slapping his hand on the island counter and pushing himself out of his seat. "Start small, something to test the waters."
"Oh! I could get him a rat," Steve says, thinking of the ones that like to burrow around in their yard. They're big and fearless, and Steve used them to practice his prowling and hunting when he was young. He's got many fond memories of crouching and pouncing right before they scattered across the yard.
"Wait," Fester says, holding up a hand and thinking for a moment, "we should think like your mother. She's the most romantic person we know."
"She blew you up," Steve agrees, nodding seriously. "She'd probably say that I shouldn't give him a live rat. Because he's, uh, not like us?" Steve looks at Fester, waiting for his father to nod once in approval before continuing, "I think Mom talked about stuffed animals once. So, maybe I can get him a stuffed rat, instead."
"Yes! Good! And then you should...learn about his interests! What does he like?" Fester asks.
"I'll have to watch him to find out. I can probably make him something once I know. I mean, he's probably got normal interests, like bugs and poisons and torture practices, right? That's what most people like."
"Don't forget dancing or music."
"Right," Steve says, "dancing or music. But he'll probably have special interests, too. Like Satanism. I should watch for those."
With something akin to a plan in place, Steve leaves Fester to sneakily poison the roasted vegetables while he plans the first step of wooing Eddie.
-----
Ever since meeting Steve Harrington in the bathroom, Eddie has been feeling eyes on him. Not even the normal kind that are annoyed or just curious about the school's resident freak. No, these eyes are...intense. They're laser-focused on his every move and clearly filled with some kind of intentions that he can't discern.
He just doesn't know where they're coming from. When he looks around to see who's staring, he can't find anyone. It's been driving him crazy for almost a week now, and Eddie is just about ready to scream when he opens his locker and...
And finds a rat.
Like, a real rat.
Well, it's dead, but it was alive once. Eddie blinks, staring at the taxidermied rat innocently sitting on top of the pile of books and papers and folders stacked in his locker. It's big and has a surprisingly shiny brown coat, kind of like someone had given the thing a thorough wash with extra shampoo and conditioner. There's a blood-red ribbon wrapped around the rat's neck, a perfect bow tied behind its head, with a tag hanging from it. When Eddie hesitantly turns the tag over, he finds "Name: Kas" at the top and "Hope you like him" written on the bottom in careful, meticulous handwriting.
It should be creepy. It should be disturbing. Eddie should be paranoid beyond reason because how did the mystery gifter even know his locker combination? Did they stuff this rat themselves? Did they kill the rat themselves? Why the fuck would they give him a rat?
But...it's oddly...sweet? Somehow, Eddie can feel that it's not, like, a malicious gift. And he likes the rat. Kas. He likes Kas. Its fur is surprisingly soft when he picks it up, and Eddie spends a good minute just rubbing his thumb over its back.
Then he feels those eyes on him again. They're even more intense this time, like they're watching him closely to see his reaction and...oh. Is this...a weird secret admirer? Does Eddie "The Freak" Munson have a secret admirer? A weird one, sure, because who the fuck gifts taxidermied rats, but still.
He looks around, taking in the other students in the semi-crowded hallway, trying to find those eyes. He doesn't find anyone staring at him, but he does end up staring himself at Steve Harrington. The guy is leaning on a locker across the hall, inexplicably fiddling with a lightbulb as he talks to Pubert Addams, who's digging around in his own locker. If Eddie squints, he could almost convince himself that Steve's cheeks are a little pinker than normal.
After a few seconds, Steve glances up and meets his gaze. They stare at each other for a few tense moments, something building in Eddie's chest as the weight of Steve's eyes surrounds him. It doesn't feel bad, but he's not used to being the center of someone's attention like this. Normally, people are frowning when they pay attention to him. Or, if they're his friends, goading him on and joining in the joke. But this is different, like Steve finds him fascinating.
And then Pubert Addams slams his locker door shut and looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowing when he sees Eddie staring at Steve. He frowns, throws an arm over Steve's shoulders, and pulls him away. Pubert's shoulders are a little tense, his expression sour as he says something to Steve that results in one last, furtive glance at Eddie before he's out of sight.
Suddenly, nothing is more important to Eddie than figuring out what the fuck is going on between Steve Harrington and Pubert Addams.
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Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!)
@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane,
And now, a meme for your viewing pleasure:
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wires-and-hellfires · 30 days
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Hi could you do Alastor x Vox's sister that's staying at the hotel. Vox didn't know they were in hell and they are not a tech demon like him if this makes any sense.
Vox only realized it was his sister because unlike her brother who's good with tech she opposite like the best equivalent comparison I can think of is someone who's so bad at cooking that they could burn water.
Sorry for the long request you dont have to do it if you don't want to
look at how well you took care of me
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Pairing: Alastor & fem! reader (queer-platonic), Vox & sister! reader
Description: Vox comes to the realization that he may have made a mistake... he can only hope it's not too late.
Warnings: The battle in episode 8, violence, murder, injuries, alcohol, Alastor as a warning in itself, Rosie being Rosie,
Author note: Hi hi! Thanks so much for the request!!! I don't write romantic relationships for Alastor, but I loved this idea so I hope a QPR is okay! The title is from "Whispers of Your Brother's Blood" btw. This was tons of fun to write and it kinda got away from me but hopefully it's okay.
Part 2 with a reunion coming soon!
Meeting Alastor was likely the best thing that happened in your entire life, including your time on Earth and in hell.
You weren't stupid. You knew how Alastor treated people, hell, how he used to treat you, and yet, somewhere along the way he showed you more kindness than anyone else.
You met through Rosie, which was likely the best way to come face-to-face with the radio demon.
Rosie found you when you first arrived in hell, and despite very obviously considering eating you, she saw potential of some sort. Perhaps it was your steady gaze or the way you gripped the broken glass in your bloody hand like a knife, but she took you in and showed you life in hell, even if you didn't share her... dietary choices.
When Alastor came for their weekly gossip session meeting, she introduced you two. At first, he seemed to disregard you. You didn't mind.
You did your best work behind the scenes anyhow.
Alastor mentioned a man from the Weapons District who had been speaking badly of Rosie, laughing that he was practically volunteering to be a guest on his broadcast. You could hear the static in his voice from your spot in an armchair across the room. He wasn't joking.
Which meant you had to act first.
Later that night, you bid farewell to Rosie with a smile, claiming you had errands to run, which to be fair, wasn't entirely untrue.
The man was easy to find thanks to Alastor's description. He reeked of cheap booze and tobacco, already drunk in the bar you tracked him to.
Sliding up to him with promises of "a good time" and more booze, he stumbled out of the bar after you, straight into the back alley.
He was dead within 10 minutes. A mugging gone wrong, they'd say.
How tragic.
During the next meeting between Alastor and Rosie, Alastor invited you to sit with them, much to Rosie's delight. And if his smile seemed a bit too knowing and he made a few jokes about drunks in dark alleys? Well, that could stay between the two of you.
And that's where it started.
Every visit, regardless of what you were doing, Alastor would ask if you'd like to join them. You three would chat over tea, sharing gossip and talking shit. You couldn't tell if he genuinely enjoyed your company or if he just found you entertaining, though you suspected those two things weren't too different with Alastor.
And when someone was a bit too careless with their opinion about Alastor in the bar you frequented one night? The radio demon didn't need to make an appearance, you would destroy that scum yourself-
The next day, Alastor paid you a visit personally.
In the parlour, he expressed an interest in your... skillset, laughing about how you worked in the darkness.
He offered you a deal for your soul.
Whatever care he had developed for you likely saved your life when you refused.
"Partners or nothing," you had offered. When his grin sharpened, you knew he was intrigued.
He was the flashy showman, broadcasting the screams of overlords and inspiring fear across all of hell.
And you?
You were the shadow on the wall, charming those who would be too stubborn or too afraid to usually talk, convincing them to give away the information you needed to build your empire further.
Those who knew of your existence understood the consequences of speaking out. The radio demon didn't take well to those who threatened you.
In a dangerously comforting way, it all felt far too close to your life on earth. Sure, you weren't killing nearly as much back then, but flirting for information, gathering secrets and destroying those who opposed you or those close to you?
Yeah, that was familiar.
Your brother would be proud, you thought.
Or maybe he'd be just as unappreciative as he was in life.
Half a decade at Alastor's side, the two of you taking the phrase "partners in crime" very literally.
As a show of trust, he once allowed you to help with a broadcast, as long as you promised to keep quiet. Admittedly, he quickly discovered your... less-than-ideal skills with technology, but you appreciated the thought nonetheless.
You relied on one another. You leaned on him and he would lean back.
And then he disappeared.
No goodbye, no warning at all, not even a body.
Just... gone.
After five years, you moved into an apartment in Cannibal Town, further isolating yourself. Finding work wasn't difficult, but you refused to use your skills for just anyone, and there were few people you trusted more than Rosie.
You arrived late one night, two years into working with Rosie. Setting the keys down on the counter, the dull buzz of static spread through the room.
Alastor was holding you before you even hit the ground, legs giving out in relief.
And yes, he wasn't the most physically affectionate demon, but for you?
For you, he could make an exception.
The hotel could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he had apologies to make and a partner to comfort.
The next day, after Alastor pitched his ideal to the princess of hell, he brought in Niffty, Husk and you as help, and if everyone thought you were a soul under his command, well, it was easier that way.
However much you didn't want to admit it, you grew to care for everyone. Losing at cards with Husk, cooking lessons with Angel, sparing with Vaggie, watching musicals with Charlie, crafts with Niffty, failing at inventing with Sir Pentious...
And doing absolutely everything with Alastor. After his reappearance, you were reluctant to let him out of your sight, and the radio demon was all too willing to keep you close, even if Husk seemed concerned over it.
Which was probably why when Alastor tried to get you to leave during the night before the battle, you refused.
You could tell his desperation to keep you safe drive you out of the hotel by the static in his voice, his subtle requests turning to false threats and finally a plea that neither of you would admit to leaving his mouth.
"I'm a lot of terrible things, Alastor, but I am not disloyal. I will stand tomorrow with you and everyone else. You're not leaving me again."
And for the first time that you've met him, he lets it go. No further bargaining or attempts to trap you, just a sigh and "Whatever you want, my dear," with a tighter smile than usual.
The next day, everything goes to shit.
Alastor and Adam are fighting, with Alastor firmly kicking his ass.
Then Sir General Pentious yells to unjam a cannon near you, and while pushing random buttons and gesturing angrily, you scream, "I don't know how to use this shit!"
You don't see the VoxTech drone nearby recording everything for the Vee's future entertainment.
With your back turned, you cry out at the feeling of a spear slicing across your back.
The pain of the blow sends you stumbling forward into the side of the cannon, causing it to finally go off, turning the angel behind you into pieces.
The force behind the machine sent you crashing into the wall of the hotel next to Angel, who turned to you in shock.
At the sound of your pain, Alastor's focus breaks for only a second.
It's enough for Adam to gain the upper hand, breaking his staff in two and sending him to the ground.
As he fades into the shadows, he focuses on your energy signature and pulls you into the darkness alongside him.
Across hell, at the top of V Tower, Vox swore wildly at the screen.
What a fucking coward!
Alastor running away to die off camera had to be the biggest disappointment in his entire afterlife.
Scratch that, second biggest disappointment. Still a pretty big bummer though.
Saving the other views of the battle for later inspection, he and the other Vee's watched as Lucifer slammed Adam into the dirt in delight.
It was 3 hours after the extermination was cancelled that he found the footage of you and the cannon. Of you hitting the wall and disappearing, but you're not dead, you can't be dead oh please not again-
How long have you been in hell? He assumed that you had been killed permanently before he arrived in hell after you, or maybe you'd even been sent to heaven, despite your sins. If anyone deserved to be forgiven, it was you.
But no, no no- You'd been here, the whole time, in that stupid hotel with fucking Alastor-
Vox's fans speed up in an attempt to keep his whole system from crashing.
Your appearance had changed, sure, but he would recognize the sight of you cussing out technology anywhere.
He would recognize his little sister anywhere, even in death.
This was all his fault.
You and Vox grew up close. Always the two of you, there could be no one else, the sheltering of your parents ensured that.
Over time, Vox's mastery of technology grew, and so did his influence. When he needed someone he could trust to keep things clean and running in the background, you were the obvious choice.
He took you for granted, Vox knew that now. You had argued about something stupid before a job one night, he couldn't even remember what he said, only that he went too far. When you left to go do some "clean up" for a previous situation, he resolved to properly apologize for once when you got home. And to say thank you. He wouldn't forget this time.
But you never came back.
You were found shot dead in an alleyway by a couple of employees from a nearby bar later that night.
Did Vox send you on a job that was too much for you? Were you distracted from the argument?
Either way, it was his fault you were dead. His fault the one person he loved, his baby sister, lay in a casket.
It didn't take long for him to get put into the ground himself.
Arriving in hell felt like a second chance. He would find you and everything would be alright again.
And yet, you were nowhere to be seen.
The drones around the hotel (or what was left of it) circled, scanning for a sign that you were there. That his ignorance hadn't killed you for a second time.
On the screens, the clean-up of the rubble continued.
Vox twitched.
Vox hadn't prayed since he was a child in the front pews of the neighbourhood church. Back when purity was still an option and repentance was unnecessary.
Now, he didn't know who he was pleading to. Does God listen when demons pray?
Please. Please, let her live. Let Alastor have saved her. Let me make this right.
Please.
391 notes · View notes
so-mordor-itis · 1 year
Text
Behind Her Eyes
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Synopsis: Ada continues to track down the amber while also running into you and Leon time and time again. Hopefully, she won't have any more distractions than she has been given. After all, she's just doing her job.
Sequel to Through Her Eyes
N/A: THIS IS BEEFY!! I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY!
WC: 3k.
Taglist: @amatxs , @airanke , @uhlunaro , @honeyfict , @im-just-a-simp-le-whore , @pepsicolacoochie , @inaflashimagine , @phoenix666stuff , @rentaldarling , @boiled-onionrings , @auxenpin-it , @starbirdfinch , @m4nd0l0r , @mahalaraewolfe , @mobbbb1 , @konigbabe , @izuniias , @tosuckmyweenis @boundinparchment
"You long to be bandaged before you have been cut." –Margaret Atwood
"You can stop right there, Leon. Wouldn't make me use this, would you?" Ada had pressed her pistol to one of his shoulder blades. She cocked it, letting it sit against his shirt for a second. She wanted him to know she was willing to use it if required. She meant business.
Leon dropped his weapon a second later. "Well, after six years, that's one hell of a greeting, Ada." He said her name with a bit of a bite. Not quite a sneer, but teetering toward that territory. "What's the occasion?"
Ada just smirked, tilting her head to the side. She wanted to get under his skin, because if she didn't he wouldn't be curious, and if he didn't become curious then her plan of action to steer him away from the amber would fall through the floor. He may have become more rigid with his movements, a bit snappier with his sentences, but he was still the same rookie cop she met back in Raccoon. "You don't seem surprised. Interesting."
With a single step, he attempted to grab the gun from her hand. Ada retaliated, leading to dance with Leon's knife. She blocked it several times, hoping to lead it away from anything fatal. He caught her slightly off guard when the hilt of his blade touched the red turtleneck she was wearing, and she paused. Maybe he had learned more than she thought.
"Try using knives next time," Leon said, "Better for close encounters."
"Very smooth," Ada responded. "You've learned a few tricks."
Leon ignored her comment. "Who are you working for this time? Definitely not the FBI."
"Oh, Leon," Ada tutted. "You know I don't work and tell."
Leon released the knife from her throat, placing it back into the pouch on his left shoulder. Ada observed him for a moment. He was wary, she could tell from the way he was looking around the room. Ada had a bite back a frown. His eyes were different now. His pupils were yellowish, and whites were now a bit cloudy. They must've drugged him, or maybe he was infected like the girl and the rest of Saddler's lackies. She didn't comment on it. Wasn't her place.
She didn't know what happened to you if you two split up or you simply wandered from him and lost your footing. All she knew was that she found him in this room and finally decided to show herself–well, more than she had when he was being attacked by the taller man in the trench coat. Though she had to admit it was intriguing that you weren't with him.
"Where's your little partner?" Ada asked, "I'd thought they'd be tagging alongside you."
Leon furrowed his brows. "That's something I'd like to know, too. I turned my back for one second, and suddenly, they're gone. This whole damn castle is a maze." He wasn't surprised Ada knew about you, either.
"How troubling," she murmured.
Leon didn't reply. He was lost in his own thoughts. His right hand clenched into a fist. A plan was swimming in his mind, but Ada didn't want to concentrate too hard on him.
"You should give up on the girl," she continued. "She's lost no matter what." Ada eyed the window, moonlight shining through in brilliant lines of white. She couldn't stay much longer. "You walk away now, and who knows? I might give you the greeting you were hoping for."
Leon didn't look impressed, and that made something coil in Ada's chest. "You think I'm gonna give up? Simply leave? You're wrong for thinking so." His voice was laced with annoyance.
Ada just looked at him. "Right." Opening the window, she used her grappling hook to latch onto one of the ledges of the castle. "See you around, Leon."
Though he tried to look more irritated, she saw his eyes soften for a slight second–or maybe her mind was starting to slip. She was a bit tired, but she couldn't give that any thought. Ada shook that off her shoulders the moment she landed on one of the roof shingles. One crunched under her foot as she prepared to give another report to Wesker.
She found you before he did. You were out of bullets, poor thing.
Hunched over a chair, you were taking a glimpse at an old map of the castle. The paper was brown and torn apart, it would've been a miracle if you could've actually interpreted the damn thing.
"Fuck," you moaned. "Why did they have to build so many passages? What is this, the 1500s?"
Ada had to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. You and Leon were definitely a lot alike. You both spoke to yourselves, talking as if there was an audience. She wondered what the point was, if it gave you two satisfaction.
A sudden thump echoed from one of the many doors in the room. Robed figures, all muttering phrases in Spanish, carried torches and maces. Your face soured into a deeply tired look. From what Ada could understand, you had empty rounds, and your knife was broken–it was on top of the table you placed the map upon, the metal pieces covering the brown paper.
The figures got closer to you, and Ada watched as your eyes fixated on one of the doors. You could try to make a run for it, bolt to the door in hopes you could find more resources. Though, how realistic is that? Ada thought.
She found herself subconsciously feeling for one of her flash grenades. Was she really going to help you at the cost of her own resources? That'd be a bit of a waste. She could easily find herself in a similar situation.
Though it would turn out she didn't need to. Your eyes brightened as you shuffled for something in your pocket. A grenade of your own, but not of the flash variety. You pulled the trigger with your teeth before tossing it.
She flew through the window to avoid the blast. From where she was, she would've definitely felt something.
Ada was a bit disappointed. She could've told Leon he owed her another favor.
She bit her lip before reaching for her radio and tracing through each signal. She estimated the closest one to her was Leon, and she guessed right.
"Leon, change your mind yet?"
"Ada?" He was surprised.
"Assuming you haven't, I got a tip for you," Ada glanced back into the castle. More robed figures began marching through doors, their speed picking up with every second. "Seems like something big is about to go down in the throne room. I also found your little friend. They're heading in that direction. Babysitting's tough, huh?"
She hung up her signal right after.
Ada didn't bother backtracking again. It would've torn a chunk of her time away.
She hated that something inside her wanted to.
She had radioed to him again later on, giving what she knew he'd want. He wasn't as rough as he was to her previously, perhaps because you were now there to calm his storm, or maybe he just decided to be less harsh. She didn't know, and she wanted to force herself not to care.
He wasn't her's anymore.
"Looking for these?" Ada dangled the keys to the boat you two occupied. Leon had been attempting to scavenge them but couldn't manage to. It was her boat, these keys were hers. She could've easily allowed you two to be deserted and not find the girl again. However, she was feeling rather generous.
She tossed them to Leon, and you eyed her form. Your brows furrowed as if you were attempting to recall if you've met her. You two haven't, technically. She knew who you were by bits and pieces, and that's all she needed. "I could use a ride myself."
You and Leon exchanged glances, but she knew ultimately that they wouldn't be given a choice. Leon knew, too. "Fine." He said.
You sat in the back, Leon very cautiously sat in the passenger’s seat because Ada offered to drive. Leon tried to be subtle about it, but Ada noticed. He glanced at you for a second before putting his eyes back to the ocean in front of him.
He was holding back words, and she knew it. "You look like you've got something to say." Ada claimed. He didn't just look it. It radiated off of his skin, and he spoke it with his eyes. He was questioning himself about why she was here, and it kept floating around inside that mind of his.
Though, she would admit she was being unfair, asking this in front of you.
Leon just said, "Nothing." And Ada clicked her tongue.
"Hm."
"Why are you here, Ada?" He blurted. It was too late to catch himself.
"As I told you, Leon, I don't work and tell."
Ada peered at you, giving a side eyed glance. You weren't asking her questions, nor were you giving her any type of expression. Your body language wasn't indicating you felt anything but indifference. You were keeping to your own business. (You glanced at Leon a few times, keeping tabs, watching his reactions. You knew him, too, it seemed.)
How polite.
Or perhaps you felt vexed and wanted to slit her throat right then and there. Either way, you were good at hiding it. (She noticed your pupils, the whites of your eyes. You were also infected, and she wondered if Leon knew, too.)
"I'm stopping here," Ada said shortly. There was a ridge up ahead on a rock she could grapple from. Krauser now had the sample, and he was making her job so much harder than it needed to be.
She stopped the boat just enough so she could stand. Ada pulled herself up. She looked back at him and winked. "Don't think too hard, handsome. See you later." The momentum of her pushing her body weight off the boat caused it to rock the both of you back and forth, Leon fought to steady it.
From the ledge, Ada could barely make out your voices.
"Old flame?" You questioned.
"Something like that," Leon grumbled in response. "It's not relevant."
"Alright, you just seemed so bothered by her."
"She's…" He paused. "Something else."
Ada expected a different phrase from him but was pleasantly surprised.
"She seems interesting."
"I don't want to think about her. Let's just focus on Ashley."
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Leon's voice was softer now. "Yeah, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me."
"What if I want to?"
Ada removed herself from the area and continued forward, not wanting to listen to anymore of your conversation.
Her carrier pigeon was no longer alive, creating a bigger problem. Luis had told Ada the amber was on the island, and Saddler had kept a tight leash on it. That wasn't a surprise, really. It contained the very being he and his cult worshiped. And, to make her workload harder, Krauser contained a sample of the plaga that Wesker would find fascinating. What he would do with it, she had no idea.
"Where on the island, Luis?" She inquired, flexing her fingers as she observed her nails.
"I'll take you there, just…" He paused to scratch his stubble. "Just let me finish some business first."
"May I remind you, you're under thin ice? Better to cooperate, baby."
"Alright, it's…it's in the very middle of the island. It'll be surrounded by Ganados and other not so friendly things."
She never ran into the not so friendly beings, but she did encounter many Ganados that were too trigger happy. The island itself was mostly constructed to be a weapon base–it was so obviously guarding something. With barbed wire traps and metal buildings and caves full of laboratories.
She found the amber eventually in a secluded area. It was grossly beautiful, leaving an orange glow on the floor that was reflected off of a light in the room. The smaller parasites inside reminded her of Umbrella's lab specimens. Removing this larger rock would be an issue; there would need to be a strong distraction, one that would hold their attention long enough for her to give her helicopter friend a signal to load it on.
Leon.
He would have to be her distraction.
And he was.
The girl lay upon a sacrificial table, black veins crawling up her arms. Leon's veins popped from his arms, blackened as the girl's. You were in the same boat, groaning in pain on your knees as Saddler began to control the parasite from within.
Ada had two choices. She could allow you and Leon to die here, being suffocated by the plaga in your systems, or she could risk it all.
Ada couldn't do it. She couldn't let him die.
She pulled out her TMP and shot Saddler with what seemed to be the entire round. "Go, Leon!" She shouted to him. "Before it's too late!"
He fell forward, catching his breath. He grabbed your shoulder and then went for Ashley, picking her up bridal style. The two of you began to push yourselves forward, but she couldn't watch now. "That's six times now, Leon." She mumbled.
Saddler managed to squeeze out every last bullet Ada had thrown at him. She had two more guns, but it wouldn't be enough. All she could do was buy more time for you guys. Maybe that's all you needed.
It wasn't long before she only had her pistol left. Saddler used one of his appendages to grab her by the leg and slammed her down on the ground. Her ears rang so loud she couldn't even hear her own heartbeat. Her mouth tasted of iron. She might've bitten her tongue without realizing it. One more smack to the head, and her world went black.
What woke her up was the hard smack of landing on the ground. Her vision was a bit blurry, but she could make Leon's figure. He was holding his pistol. You were nowhere to be found.
Ada quickly got on her feet, approaching him as Saddler appeared from behind, transforming into a hideous creature, further reminding Ada of the experiments she witnessed in the Umbrella underground lab. It had been six years, but those images would never be removed. They were stuck to her mind like glue.
Just like back then, he was her partner once more, but Ada had a feeling this would be the final time.
Saddler was defeated with a blow from a rocket launcher. Ada took a deep breath, rubbing her arms as they screamed at her with ache. It was over. Now, she just had to get on the damn helicopter. She gave her men the signal to grab the amber during the fight, while Leon kept him occupied, dancing to his tune. She felt a little more bad this time; she'd used him again.
The sample of the plaga rolled out of Saddler's staff and onto the ground next to Leon. Ada grabbed it before Leon could blink.
"Ada? What the hell?"
She glanced at the bottle of purple liquid with curiosity. "Nothing personal, Leon. Just business." Ada pulled a device out of her pocket and pressed a button that said,"Detonate. " She had to get rid of the evidence, after all. "Though, I definitely recommend you leave. Now."
Leon got the hint, and he sprung to his feet, his eyes wide. Ashley. You. Ada knew immediately to whom his mind went.
Her ride appeared a millisecond later, and she strided toward it, no regrets in her gait. She turned to him. "You coming?" Part of her knew his answer already, but the other part wanted him to ditch everything and just come. Come with her, talk to her. Maybe they could fix things.
"You and I both know this is where we go back to what we were, Ada," Leon said, looking her directly in the eye. "It's time to go separate ways."
"Unsurprising," she clicked her tongue, finally meeting where the helicopter leveled for her to board. She jumped, landing gracefully. "Catch," she shouted, throwing another pair of keys at him. "It's your ride home."
Leon glanced to his palm and shook his head. His lips mouthed something, but the helicopter blades were too loud for her to hear. She watched his now tiny form sprint in the opposite direction, probably now headed your way.
"You got it?" Ada demanded, placing a headset atop her ears. Helicopters were always so loud that she could never hear herself think.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Put me in," she followed. Wesker needed to know his precious Amber was secured.
A part of her wished she could see Leon one more time. To tell him things she never could.
Beneath her serious look, she always cared for him.
(Ingrid had ordered a chopper to find you three once you reached the ground. Ashley had immediately fallen asleep, and her head landed on your shoulder. Leon took note of it, the way you gently lifted her head so she'd be more comfortable, the way you parted her hair as a parent would. He didn't know why it made his heart feel warm.
"Did you have feelings for her?" You asked suddenly. Leon blinked. For a slight moment, he thought you meant Ashley, and he was about to be very confused. But no, you meant Ada.
"Yeah," Leon answered after a few seconds. "She made me feel like we had something back in Raccoon City. Then, well, you know how stories like this usually play out."
"She betrayed you?"
"A summary, but yes."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
You wrinkled your nose. "I didn't want to pry."
"You weren’t, I mean, she was being unfair, asking me things in front of you." Leon shrugged. "Anyone would be curious."
It was silent now. You had thoughts racing in your mind, and Leon could tell from the way your forehead wrinkled.
"I don't think about her much anymore." Leon said. "I have more important people to think about now." He was looking at you when he said that. You blinked a little before giving him an embarrassed smile.
"Alright, Mr. Kennedy, no flirting on the job."
"Mission's over, isn't it?")
1K notes · View notes
toecrust69 · 9 months
Note
Can i request a gn!reader who’s been trained to be a weapon most of their life so they’re not really good with feelings? They’ve been adopted by the batfamily and they get hurt on a mission, they hide and stuff but dick or Jason (maybe both?) finds out, and like kinda scold them for not saying anything and ask why they would keep this a secret. The reader replies something ‘I just didn’t think it was a big deal’ IT WAS A BIG DEAL. So it’s just fluff and angst😇. You can end it with them having a movie night after patching reader up to feel better? You can change somethings up if it crosses your boundaries! <3
Hurt
Warnings: mild mentions of violence and wounds, cussing, mentions of past trauma, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of an old abusive home, bad writing, animal abuse. Please let me know if I miss anything
A/n: Hello and tysm for requesting!! I just wanted to let you know that if you are in an abusive relationship or family, you are not alone. If you are sensitive to content like this, please leave (respectfully ofc)
Enjoy!!
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You pressed yourself up against the rough alley wall, clutching your side in pure pain as tears threatened to fall down your face.
You squinted your eyes shut and gritted your teeth to hold back a grutal scream of pain and slid down the wall.
You were just out on patrol, as usual, when you heard various voices, laughter, and whines from the very same alley you layed in now; soaked in your own blood.
Without a second thought, you dove down into the alleyway. You immediately realized what was going on.
There were five men surrounding what seemed to be a puppy with various wounds.
You frowned. Damian would not have been happy if he saw this.
The men turned to look at you and you could tell some of them were panicked while the rest simply smirked and stared you down.
A large fight ensued between you and three of the men while the other two stood by and watched while also making sure the puppy wouldn't escape.
You took note of this and kicked down one of the men I the direction of the other two, causing him to stumble back, bringing the two with him.
The puppy escaped but you couldn't.
Soon they were all fighting you, and it was a bit too much for you to handle.
They kicked you over and over on your sides, punched you, spat at you, and even stabbed you.
You barely won the fight, and now you stared down at their bloody, unconscious bodies in pure hatred.
You couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed and upset with yourself.
Since the moment you were born, you were trained to be a weapon similar to Damian.
You absolutely hated it and you were more than happy when Bruce took you in, but you still felt ashamed any time you were beat in a fight.
You remember how your parents used to severely punish you any time you'd fail a mission or training.
They never held back when it came to your punishments. Even when you were a toddler.
They'd punch and kick you just like the men had and you fucking hated it.
You hated how it brought you back to those dark memories and you hated how it reminded you that you'd never fully recover from it.
Your new family always tried to convince you that'd things were different now; that you were safe.
You'd always try to believe them but there was always that lingering feeling that you were never good enough.
There was always a tiny little voice that screamed and yelled at you about how useless, weak, and annoying you were.
There was always that little voice that told you how much of a burden you were to your new and old family.
But that wasn't the problem right now.
The problem right now was how you'd get back to the batcave/manor without getting caught and interrogated by Bruce or any one of your other family members.
You scouted out for an idea in your head when you finally got one.
Damian, Bruce, and Tim were still out on patrol and Jason and Dick weren't even in the city.
So all you had to do was walk in through the front door with your spare key and pray that Alfred wasn't going to see you.
'Perfect ', you thought.
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You searched for your keys in your pocket until you finally got them.
Bruce gave it to you the first time you arrived a couple months ago, claiming that it'd help keep you safe.
You never really understood what he meant but you didn't really mind.
You sloppily fit the key into the whole and twisted it until you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking.
You cracked the door open and peeked in to see if anybody was around, and thankfully, there wasn't.
You fully pushed the door in and stepped in.
Closing the door behind you, you propelled yourself towards the grand stairs.
You immediately froze in your tracks when you heard two muffled voices coming closer towards your direction.
Who could that be? Nobody except aflred was home and these were two voices.
'Was it an intruder? ' You thought and immediately got into your fighting stance, fists up, ready to fight.
The voices inched closer and closer when you realized they sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.
You held your stance when the owners of the voice stepped into your field of vision.
'Fuck! ' You immediately began panicking when you realized who it was. Dick and Jason.
They were about to ask you a question when you beat them to it. "What the fuck are you doing here!?".
"We should be asking you that" Jason retorted and you rolled your eyes.
You went back to your normal stance, trying to ignore the painful sting in your feet and arms.
Dick ignored Jason and turned you, signaling you to answer first.
You sighed in annoyance and began explaining your lie you made up on the way here. "I forgot my batarangs and came back here to get them".
They both gummed and not-so-subtly glanced at one another, clearly looking through your plain lie.
"Your lying," Jason stated plainly, "Tell us the truth"
But you completely ignored and asked once again; "now what are you two doing here?".
They frowned.
"If we tell you, will you tell us the truth?" Dick asked and you thought for a second.
You were already in too deep— there was no coming back.
So, you reluctantly nodded your head in agreement.
"Bruce called us in for an emergency meeting." Jason said plainly. "There. Now tell us the truth".
You hung your head low and noticed how your hands seemed to have had a seizure from all the shaking it was doing.
You felt as if they'd yell and punish your if you told them the truth. You knew that wasn't the case; you knew they weren't like that, but you couldn't help it.
Tears threatened to come falling down when you thought of another lie. Hopefully theyd believe you this time.
"I felt a bit tired and decided to come back early." You said a bit too quickly. "Goodnight" you murmered before rushing up the stairs and to your room.
They called after you to come back but you only ignored them and sped up.
Excruciating pain shot through your body with every step you took, but you couldn't care less.
Your hand barely touched the door handle when another one put a hand over yours, stopping you from opening the door anymore.
You looked up and saw Jason, jaw clenched as he stared into your soul.
Feeling a small bit of pressure on your shoulder, you looked and saw yet another big, rough hand rested upon your shoulder. Dick.
You shrinked the longer they stared at you until one of them spoke.
"What happened" Jason asked once again, voice as cold as his stare. Actually, he wasn't even asking, he was demanding.
You gulped and your eyes darted around the room but was quickly interrupted by another deep voice.
"Answer the question" Dick said coldly and you knew that there was no going back now.
You let go of the handle with a shaky breath and turned to face the two of them. Their arms were crossed as they stared down at you and you swore you felt tiny little bugs crawling up and down your entire body.
"D-do you promise not to be mad?" You asked in a small, shaky voice.
They were a bit taken back for a second but quickly recovered; hoping you didn't see their faces.
"Of course not" Dick reassured.
You still felt a bit uneasy about telling them what actually happened but you knew they'd never actually judge you.
"I was attacked by 5 men during patrol. I was trying to fight them off but I wad too weak," tears were now falling out your eyes and down your face. "I'm sorry" your voice was small like a mouse at the end.
Their icey gazes immediately warmed up as they began trying to reassure you.
"It's okay, there's no need to apologize" dick said as he brought his hands up to wipe your tears away with the pads of his thumb.
He held your face between both his hands and you couldn't help but lean into the unfamiliar touch.
"Are you hurt?" Jason asked
"Yeah... just a bit".
"Why did you tell us?" Jason asked in what seemed to be a hurt voice.
"I didn't think it was a big deal" you admitted sheepishly and dug your face more into Dicks hands as if trying to hide from your emberasment.
The truth was the complete opposite.
You knew it was a big deal but you didn't want to bother or burden anybody— especially not your brothers— with your wounds.
It was fucking painful but you thought you could patch yourself up.
You didn't need any help, right?
Right.
They were completely and utterly shocked— what do you mean no big deal!? This was a huge deal to them.
"What do you mean 'no big deal'!?" Jason asked, almost mockingly.
Dick scowled and sent him a glare, signaling at him to shut up.
A huge wave of guilt washed over Jason, but he didn't show it. "Sorry" he mumbled sheepishly.
"C'mon, let's take you to the medical room" he whispered into your ear as he lead you down the stairs and towards the batcave.
They placed you onto the small bed and in the bright florescent light, they could tell your injuries were definitely more than a big deal.
Blood covered your mask and suit. They could tell your leg especially hurt considering most of the blood came from there and your abdomen.
They didn't even understand how you even managed to walk— let alone up the stairs.
"Get me the med-kit" Jason demanded, pointing at Dick then the nearby meditation.
He was back in a flash with the med-kit and set it down beside you.
Jason opened it immediately and pulled out all the materials he needed.
Jason was always better when it came to patching up wounds compared to Dick. It was mostly because Jason got more hurt than Dick did during patrol, even though he'd never admit it.
His hands were fast but gentle as he began patching you up.
You had a high pain tolerance, so it only stang when he pressed the alcohol against your wounds.
Once he was finally done, he put away all the materials and turned to face you along with Dick.
You had since stopped crying and began pushing yourself off of the bed, standing up to your full length.
"Thank you" you mumbled, barely loud enough for them to hear.
They nodded and you began making your way towards the door when the stopped you.
"Hey" Dick said and you turned to look at him. You signaled for him to continue and he did, "you're not alone. You can always reach out to me or anybody else for help, okay?"
You nodded your head in agreement and they both smiled.
"Good."
.
I'm not really happy with this one but oh well, I hope at least you enjoyed
-toes<3
490 notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 1 month
Text
My Date With the President's Daughter
part one: Blue Bunny
prompt: your father finds out about Tangerine in the worst way during a charity gala before marauders try to rob it.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 6.3k+
note: a little Disney Channel throwback in the title anyone?
warnings: use of Irish names that DO NOT dictate race, more Mafia antics, short smut / interrupted smut (you'll see), NSFW i think, mature content, cursing, chaos and violence, weapons: guns and knives, blood. dead bodies, reader's a Daddy's Girl, abrupt ending, slight angst, more hurt and comfort i guess, author still has no idea what this plot is - revoke her internet access.
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The theme of the gala that night was inspired by the Palace of Versailles; regal, royal, glittering and so very, very gold. It was held at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, the entire building rented out in preparation with three different caterers and expensive bottles of alcohol being served. The gala was THE place to be - most people vying for an invitation, everyone who was anyone in attendance; dripping in designer clothes, shoes, and jewelry that sparkled in candlelight.
Every single year for the past 25 years, your legendary father hosted a large charity event that your mother was project manager of - meaning she chose the themes, decor, and the invite list. Only elite persons (both in the public and private eye) with deep pockets were invited, knowing they'd cut a large check if they wanted your father to stay out of their business territories. So, in honor of the richer-than-rich attendees, your mother used grand and golden decorations; creating a tastefully regal atmosphere for those who didn't actually have a drop of royal blood in their veins.
You father, Fallon, meaning "leader" in the ancient Celtic language, looked as handsome and dapper as ever; his tux dry cleaned, steamed, ironed, and tailored, paired with clean and shining dress shoes that had a bright red sole. His hair was slicked back, tattoos on his neck visible from the swept-back style.
Your mother, Maeve, whose name meant "she who rules", looked like she had just walked off a runway. Her dress hugged her slender and impressive figure, the material shimmering under the soft lighting. Her heels were high, hair pinned off her neck to show off bright diamond earrings that matched the thin chain of glittering gems around her collarbones, the sparkling tennis bracelet, and the absurdly large wedding ring on her finger. Her face was lightly painted with make-up, always a woman who didn't need much - if any at all. You prayed to age as gracefully as she.
Your brother, Oisín - pronounced [Oh - Sheen] - meant "little deer"; a cheeky but shy lad at the ripe age of 10. He wore a matching tux as your father, and had an emerald broach pinned on his lapel to indicate he belonged to your family. His au pair was supposed to be watching him so you could mingle with donors, but Oisín didn't stray from your side; a wee hand holding the material of your expensive dress on your hip to keep himself from getting lost.
The gala was crowded. Large event room stifling, requiring the air be turned on. Perfume assaulting the senses in a clash of scents.
The trademark "cha-ching" sound effect echoed in your mind as you shmoozed a few guests into their donations; impressing your brother by how easy you made it look. You thanked each donor with a pretty smile and fluttering lashes, floating around the room to meet other investors; giving them your family's charity's mission statement and explained where their money would go. Most of the people in this room were seedy criminals - similar to your father - and the other few were corrupt politicians who were nestled in the criminal's pockets.
By no means was the night boring, but this was work for you; all business, no pleasure.
The decor your mother chose had a lot of glittering gold details; a few imported busts and statues, an entire wall full of sculpted grass to mimic the Palace's own garden designs; artwork hung in thick, intricate frames, bright crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The event hall was specifically chosen for the floor-to-ceiling windows, sculpted shrubbery planted around the room; banquet tables covered in white cloth and chairs made of white plush - complimenting the detailed golden accents. It was gorgeous, you were impressed by your mother's attention to detail.
You wore a dress made of fine silk, the pretty green hue complimenting your skin tone; hair left down, pinned at the sides, showing off the dangling, expensive earrings your father gifted you on your 18th birthday. You, too, wore heels that forced you to walk taller and with calculated steps; rimmed eyes darting around to ensure there wasn't any shady business transpiring. But when surrounded by people who made their living by being sketchy, it was hard to clock each and every movement; being why your father had hired a very specific (and loyal) security service.
With several checks in hand, you visited your father's banker, a mute man named Bradley, and handed them over for safe keeping; your brother able to practice his sign language. Bradley was happy to reply, your entire family versed in multiple languages, and showed the young lad his process of collecting and documenting the donations. After tallying your new checks to the grand total, he used British Sign Language to inform you and Oisín of the updated tally generated so far.
"Why does Daddy need to do this?" The young lad asked, holding your hand tightly; not being a fan of social interactions - especially to this magnitude.
"To keep business moving squeaky clean," you answered softly, smiling at a few who passed you. "Money makes the world go 'round, don't it?"
He sighed, "Do we know all these people?"
"We do, they're Daddy's associates," you nodded, "and you best believe, they all know us. See, one day, you'll learn their names and what businesses they provide, how Daddy keeps them all employed."
Oisín looked uncomfortable, wondering, "Are they dangerous? Like the guys that came for Christmas?"
You came to a halt around the edge of the room, caressing his head while being careful not to muse his hair out of place. "They're all dangerous, in their own way, yes, lovie. But," you lowered into a squat so you could look your brother in his eyes, "you'll learn, Daddy's much more dangerous. So, we host events like this t'keep everyone happy and in line, you see? It's a power play."
He nodded, glancing around the room of adults. "Do I have to stay the whole time, though? Mommy said I could invite Darrel and Kevin - they're over there," he pointed towards one of the round tables, two of his classmates laughing with their mothers standing off to the side. "And I'm hungry!"
"Oh, you're a hungry lad, is it?" You smiled, watching his head bob. "Well then, in that case, we should feed you, huh? C'mon," you straightened and offered your hand, which he took gratefully. "We'll get yah fed, sweetums, and you can hang with your friends, yeah?"
"Daddy won't be mad?"
"No, I'll tell him you did really well tonight, helping me collect donations," you winked, leading him to one of the catering tables. You made up his plate with different options, carrying it to the table his friends, Darrel and Kevin, were sat at.
The boys - who looked adorably dapper in suits and bowties - greeted your brother happily; letting you set his plate down and greet the mothers kindly to thank them for their attendance that night.
"Oh, Miss!" Your brother's au pair, Lisa, hustled up to you, "I'm so sorry, I lost track - "
"No, no, 's fine, you're all right, deep breath, love," you assured, squeezing her upper arm. "Having a good night so far?"
"Oh, it's magical, Miss, innit?" She beamed, looking around in wonder. "Never been before despite working for your family all these years, I'm grateful for your mother's invitation tonight."
"Oh, we're very happy to host yah, sweetheart," you smiled. "But, uh, you mind keepin' an eye on Oisín for me? I've gotta work a bit more. He just wants t'hang with his friends, think he's a bit tired."
"Of course," she rushed.
"I'd wager you can take him t'bed after Daddy's speech, hmm? I know he'll want Oisín here for that, at the very least."
Lisa agreed, mingling with the other mothers as you pecked Oisín's head and told him to behave, that you were gonna go back to working the gala; which he at least acknowledged before being sucked back into a card game with Darrel. You didn't mind the blow off, liking the idea that he had as normal of a life as possible - a farfetched idea considering your father ran the bloody Irish Mafia and all. He's attended three different schools since he started his educational career, so you were content to leave him with his friends; letting boys be boys.
After making another deposit to Bradley, you visited one of the modern and unique glass bars (one of three stations) while feeling somewhat dejected by the night's missing guest. But speak (or think) of the Devil and He shall appear.
"You weren't kiddin' when you said your family goes all out for events like this. Jesus fuckin' Christ," a familiar, accented voice crooned; a body saddling up to the bar beside you. You first saw his hands clasped together on the bar, recognizing the golden rings and single bracelet, smirking as your eyes lifted to meet that of Aaron - or Tangerine.
"You're late," you mused, locking eyes with the bartender and holding up two fingers; indicating you now wanted two of the drinks you ordered, him nodding.
"Sorry 'bout that, love, yeah, no, Lem and I got caught up in somethin', had ta deal, then get cleaned up for yah. Figured you wouldn't want us walkin' in here with blood on us."
"You'd be right," you hummed, red painted lips stretching in amusement as you both casually leaned on the glass bartop with your forearms. "Doesn't matter, you're here now - thank God."
"That bad, huh?"
"Not like previous years," you admitted, sending a glance over your shoulder at the group of milling socialites. "Since Daddy inducted The Agency, some traction's picked up believe it or not. Seems like a lot of people like the idea of contract killers for hire and investing in the Black Market. Seems like you lot really up the ante, don't'cha?"
"Ah," he smirked, "you're welcome, then. Happy t'be of service."
"I'll only thank you when you make a donation to the cause."
"Yeah?" He smirked. "Well, you got anywhere private for me to write a check, then, love? Can't have anyone knowin' I'm charitable, got a reputation to uphold, know what I mean?" Then he leaned in real close, lips ghosted against your ear and making a shiver shoot down your spine, "C'mon, doll, 's been 3 weeks since I've seen yah."
"I know," you sighed, "but we've been busy tonight. Plus, Daddy would kill you - like, actually kill you - 'cause he's listed you specifically for me to stay away from."
"And yet, here you are, naughty girl, huh? Disobeying orders?" He smirked and put a space between you for the sake of appearances, two glasses of whiskey set before you. "Your Daddy's been preoccupied all night, love - don't think he'd even notice if we pop out for a bit. 'Fraid to admit but if I don't get you alone soon, I might actually lose my shit, darlin', honestly."
"Aaron, sweetheart, my family is hosting this event and we're responsible for collections," you deadpanned, but smirked, "'s a bit inappropriate to abandon such an important night by sneaking off."
"Can't tell me you're not tempted."
Now, you full-on grinned, "I didn't wear panties for a reason."
"You fuckin' tease," he growled over the rim of the crystal glass. When he tasted the whiskey, he hummed in shock, looking at the amber liquid, "Fuck me, that's nice."
"My family may or may not own several distilleries. You're drinking an exquisite, 15-year ol' whiskey, love." You took your own sip, casting another look around the room, finding your brother first, still with his friends before locating your parents. They were pleasantly distracted by an ambassador, making you grin at Tangerine, "C'mon."
"Hey?" He wondered, quickly setting his half-drank glass down as you snatched his free hand to quickly lead him away. He smirked and casted a look over his shoulder, instantly meeting Lemon's eyes - finding him laughing at the pair of you, toasting his drink at his brother in impression as if he knew what you two were up to.
Thanks to Thomas the Tank Engine, Lemon definitely knew what you two were doing - being excellent at reading people.
You lead your lover out of the event hall, checking up and down the empty hall and missing the way one of the security guards clocked your escape. You lead Tangerine into the large, private, unisex bathroom; shoving him against the closed door and instantly latching onto him in a deep kiss.
He was fully prepared, catching your hips; hissing a breath in through his nose, releasing a gentle moan out of sheer relief. When you pulled back, he grinned, "Got no idea how much I fuckin' missed yah, darlin'."
"Missed you more," you whispered in a rush, arms wrapping around his neck as he simultaneously began backing you up. It was a hungry kiss; heated, passionate, teeth clanking from impact, both attempting to make up for lost time. Ever in-sync, both your mouths opened to push your tongues against one another; exchanging saliva and the taste of expensive whiskey.
"C'mere," he panted after having backed you into the sink counter, seizing hold of your silken hips and hoisting you upwards. Your mouths were never far apart, joining together once more now that you were sat at a vantage point. Your hands shoved his navy blue suit jacket from his shoulders, it being set aside to the other end of the counter while you worked on his belt. "Never goin' this long again," he mumbled into your kiss, pushing the material of your dress up to let your legs spread wider in accommodation. Your lover rushed, "Jesus, fuck, feels like forever, don't it?"
You nodded as his hands pushed under the bunched material to grip the plush meat of your thighs; giving a gentle massage before sliding them higher until he met your bare hips. The cold counter bit into your exposed flesh.
"Oh, fuck me, you really didn't wear panties?" He groaned, glancing down as he lifted silk from your lap to catch a glimpse of your bare cunt - ready to greet him.
"Had a feelin' you'd show up, you just can't stay away, can yah?" You smirked, cheekily licking his lips as his belt clattered open. "Thought you'd might appreciate it," your chuckle was swallowed by his moan as the zipper of his trousers sounded almost shrilly to your over heightened senses. "Just need you close, so fuckin' close, please, missed you, baby - "
"No idea how much I've missed you, love, fuckin' hell," he rushed, reaching into his briefs the moment you had loosened the waistband of his tailored trousers to take hold of his cock. "This ain't gonna be nice an' easy, love, yeah? All right?" He checked, feeling you slide to the edge of the counter.
"Didn't think anything else," you grinned, gasping lightly when the head of his cock swept up and down your slit. "Plenty of time for that later, just need you fuckin' close - closer than close."
"Feel how fuckin' wet you are already? Goddamnit - "
"All for you, baby, c'mon, don't tease - "
In a single motion, Tangerine sheathed himself in your warmth, grinning in mischief, "Huh? Sayin' somethin', weren't yah, doll? Go 'head, finish your sentence, 'M listening."
You only chuckled, hands holding his neck and bicep in vice grips to keep yourself anchored as close as possible to him. "Three weeks without yah, and you wanna provoke me?" You whispered, feeling him begin to thrust in agonizing movements.
"Wouldn't be me if I didn't, huh?"
You chuckled breathlessly - gasping when, suddenly, the bathroom door burst open. You were facing that way, looking up from Tangerine's shoulder, only to discover your worst fear. "Holy shit! Daddy!?" You squeaked, Tangerine jolting and cursing in a hushed tone as he instantly yanked out of your wet warmth.
"Oh, you betta be fuckin' kiddin' me," your father seethed. "The fuck is goin' on here!? What the fuck are you goin'!? Who the fuck is that - is-is-is that who I think it is?" He growled, your lover fumbling to tuck himself away and pull his trousers back together - not moving from between your legs in an effort to preserve your modesty. But he had turned slightly to give your father a glimpse of his face, making your Daddy snarl, "Oh, bloody fuckin' hell! You serious? Fuckin' Tangerine, is it? You lost your mind, girl!?"
"Daddy, please," you warbled nervously, tears of anxiety gathering.
"Get the fuck out here - now! Boff of yah's!" He commanded in a roar, stepping out of the doorway.
"Oh, holy fuck," Aaron breathed, latching his belt and looking at you with wide eyes. "Well, was nice while this lasted, huh? Gonna miss yah, pretty girl - "
"The fuck are you - "
"He's gonna fuckin' kill me, sugar," Tangerine frowned, your dress falling gracefully into place when you slid off the counter. "Your father's gonna fuckin' kill me, Goddamnit," he pulled his suit jacket back on. "Think I can make it out that window?"
"He already knows it's you, runnin' now won't help," you sniffled, shaking your head and moving for the still-opened door. "You didn't think to fucking lock the door? Jesus fuck, Aaron..."
He followed after you, meeting your father in the empty hallway outside where the gala was in full-swing. He looked enraged, jaw clenched and wide eyes ablaze, looking the both of you over in disgust. "You out of your bloody mind you stupid girl? Huh?" He demanded, "I told you - very clearly - you weren't to fuckin' see him again."
"Daddy - "
"And this is how I find out? Huh? That my daughter doesn't respect my authority or listen to my words? How the fuck do you think people would react to that? They see you disobeying and get the idea to do the same."
"I'm not yours to command - "
"You're my daughter!" Fallon barked in anger, "My only fuckin' daughter, which means, you are, indeed, mine to command - just like everyone else in this fucking organization! You understand? My word is law - "
"This isn't just some petty fling, Daddy, that I'm engaged in to pass the time! I'm in love with him!" You blurted out, eyes widening when you heard your own words and watched your father's face fall.
"Beg your pardon?" He seethed slowly. "Have you gone mental? Finally fuckin' lost it? Huh? You must be outta your Goddamn mind if you think you love this silly fuck! He doesn't love you back, Y/N, you're just a coveted prize because you're my daughter - it's a thrill to men like him! Women like you, you're just trophies! There's no authenticity - "
"With all due respect," Tangerine interrupted boldly with anger lacing his words, "but you've got it all wrong, sir. Your daughter is the most important person t'me - outside my bruva, of course. She's not a trophy to collect, she's not a dainty object for me to store onna shelf - she's not a notch on my belt. But you're right about one thing," his arm extended around your waist, "she is the most coveted prize - but that's because of who she is, not who her father is. She's my prize, yeah, because she's the end goal men search their whole lives for and for whatever reason, she fuckin' chose me. I consider it the greatest honor - "
"You got some fuckin' nerve, don't'cha?" Your father growled. "You know what, lad? Since it's evident my daughter doesn't take me seriously, maybe you'll be smart enough to heed my warning. You leave her the fuck alone or - "
"I can't do that, sir," Tan refused, "'cause like it or not, I'm mad for her. Absolutely stupid for her. I love your daughter past words, don't even think I've ever loved someone 'cause bein' with her feels so fuckin' different in comparison.
"That so?"
Tangerine nodded, other hand shoving into his pocket to toy with the cool metal of golden brass knuckles. "There's nobody in this world like your daughter, sir. Bein' in love with her is like euphoria, yeah? Makes me think back and realize how wrong I was about my feelings for anyone else 'cause of how I feel for her. I say there ain't no way I've ever loved anyone else 'cause I've never felt this way before - I've only felt this type of love with your daughter. Yeah? She's fuckin' everything to me, so, with respect, I can't stay away. I won't."
"Yeah? Yeah? Fuckin' fine. All right, sure, let's see if The Agency has anythin' t'say about this, huh? When I pull the plug on this deal, I'll be sure to tell your employers why and let them deal with you for ruining this business partnership."
"Daddy," you gasped, rushing when he turned for the event hall's doors, Aaron following swiftly. You caught the metal doors when your father yanked them open and strode into the room, doing your best to catch him before he did anything too rash. "Wait, wait, Daddy, please, just listen, listen to me - I didn't mean for this to happen!"
"Didn't mean for what? Me findin' yah fuckin' in the bathroom like a desperate whore?" He snarled over his shoulder, the thick crowd slowing him.
"Well, yes, but I also didn't mean to fall in love with him! All right? But you know better than all of us that it's not a choice, it just happens! Look at you and Mum - "
He rounded on you, Tan at your flank, opening his mouth to scold you when something caught his eye behind you. You didn't have time to question him as rapid shots filled the air, a telltale sign of an automatic gun being fired in the crowded room. You flinched slightly, Tangerine instantly grabbing your waist to cover your body with his; turning to locate the threat, only to discover a gaggle of men in all black wearing ski masks and duffel bags on their shoulders.
"Friends of yours?" Tan snipped at your father, keeping you low as the crowd shrieked in panic - all trying to escape, still being shot at. This caused the seedy individuals with guns to take a stand and shoot back at the intruders, creating mass confusion and limited advantages.
"Bruv!"
"Brian," Aaron panted, people bumping into one another as they panicked in a flood of bodies. He looked down at you and then to your father, Fallon, only to find blood blooming under his white button up. "Oh, fuck," his eyes widened, gunshots still sounding, "right, we gotta move - can deal with everything else later. Here, here, here," Tangerine plucked a cloth napkin from a nearby table and shoved it over your father's wound to help staunch the bleeding.
"They got the doors, mate," Lemon shook his head when you noticed your father's wound. Luckily, it didn't appear to be in a fatal location, his hand holding pressure as the security detail were being gunned down. "The fuck do we do now?" Lemon asked over shrill shrieks.
"What we do best," Tangerine answered, pushing your father into action and brandishing his gun. "Stay close - "
"I'm not leaving without my wife and son!" Your father growled.
"Lem!"
"On it," he agreed, disappearing into the swarm of people.
Your lover kept you close, shoving through the crowd to lead towards a set of heavy metal doors. Several men stepped in your way, Tan sneering, "Right, fuck this." He opened fire.
You squeaked in shock when a different body tackled Aaron from the side to knock him out of sight, your father keeping a hold on you as straggling bodies dropped around you. "There he is!" You heard over the confusion, locating a set of men surging towards you.
There was nowhere to go, leaving you to physically block your father in a bid to protect him - not needing to when Tangerine intercepted the two threats. He didn't have his gun anymore, lost in a stampede of feet on bloody marble floors, opting to use his fists and brute strength against the robbers. The brass knuckles helped.
You had to admit, it was the perfect night to attack considering how much money Bradley was keeping track of. Plus the fact that everyone's guard was down made tonight the perfect opportunity for marauders to act against your family.
However, in a sea of confusion, you were separated from your father's side; losing him amongst the people and feeling a tight hand seize your upper arm. "I got the daughter!" The man in a ski mask informed through the visible comms system. "Moving for the south wing, bring the van around t'the alley."
"Aaron!" You begged, trying to wrangle free but discovering your strength was nothing compared to the 6'3'' goon's. "Aaron! Aaron, please! Help!"
"Shut the fuck up," the man snapped, backhanding you and never releasing his grip. A single trickle of blood oozed from one nostril as the man's ring split your bottom lip. "Fuckin' move!" He barked at you in a thick accent, "Move, bitch, let's go!"
"What do you want!? Please, just - just tell me! I can give you whatever it is - please! Fucking let go!"
Another enemy joined you, sneering, "Oi! The fuck you doin'? Don't damage the goods, fuckin' idiot, we gotta keep her in decent shape for the ransom! Fallon ain't payin' if his daughter's been assaulted - "
But a gunshot boomed and the other man's body jolted before falling flat on his back - dead with a hole in his forehead. You tried to capitalize on your captor's shock, unsuccessful, feeling blood splatter on your back from a different fallen body. You saw your father under the wing of his security, his own gun being used in defense, begging, "Daddy! Daddy, help!"
The one night you don't ensure your thigh holster's filled, of course this happens!
Fallon was only able to watch as Tangerine fought his way up to you struggling in the bulky man's grip; impressed when one contract killer engaged another. "Oi!" Tan barked, "Hands off my girl, yah fuckin' lunatic!" He threw several punches, the goon forced to release you to defend himself. Fallon watched as Tangerine waited until you were freed and a step to the side before opening fire again - killing the man who dared touch you. He realized that Tangerine had waited until you were clear to take the shot - feeling impression plant in his gut. Yet there was no time to dwell as intruders circled him.
"Oh, my God!" You whimpered, bodies left in growing pools of blood; your dress dragging in the tacky substance to paint abstract swirls on the shining floor; trying to avoid being swept up in the streams of panicking people. Your name was barked, another hand grabbing you, but this time, it was Lemon - sprayed in enemy blood.
"C'mon, doll, I got'cha!" He promised, being engaged by another robber. You sobbed in shock when an arm caught you in a headlock and forcefully drug you backwards; heeled feet scrambling in an attempt to keep up and avoid falling over.
"Lemon! Please! Fuck's sake!"
Breathing was hard to do in a headlock, dancing black spots blurring your vision slowly and your heart hammering in fear. A machine gun sounded again. The bicep tightened, dramatically limiting air.
"Fuckin' get off her, arsehole!" Recognizing Aaron's voice was a sheer relief, gasping for air when the arm constricted around your neck released suddenly. However, the momentum made you stumble to the ground at the same time for the goon's dead body to drop right next to you. His wide, dead eyes stared unseeingly at you, forcing a shiver down your spine and for your stomach to knot.
"Jesus Christ, oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God," you panted, scrambling when blood spread closer.
"C'mon, love, c'mere, c'mere," Tangerine grunted, hauling you to your feet and protectively keeping you to his side. Being in front of you now, you could note the blood on his button up, how the robber's own punches had bruised and bloodied his face; figuring you looked somewhat similar. "Right, listen please, need yah t'do somethin' for me, love," he kept a sharp eye out for other threats as he tugged up one of his trouser legs. He pulled out the gun strapped in the holster, handing it to you with the instruction, "Shoot first, answers later. Yeah? Hey?"
You nodded and accepted the weapon, unlocking the safety. "I have to find Mum and Oisín," you worried, men and women screaming as the brutal fight continued.
"Just stay close, love, 's fuckin' madhouse - FUCK!" He snapped, aiming and firing at a man racing for you two. "C'mon, we gotta move, gotta get you out of here - right to the fuck now - "
Your gun sounded, Tangerine watching another robber drop only feet away. He pushed you through the people, both with your heads on a swivel; working in tandem to clear the banquet hall of robbers and direct survivors to get out. Your curly-haired boyfriend held one of the robbers by the neck and repeatedly punching his face into a pulp after the other man had attempted to snatch you, too.
Nobody came remotely close to you again, not when Tangerine was on guard; protecting you, defending you, killing for you. The skin on his bare knuckles had split open, but Tangerine didn't even notice; he just moved on to the next threat.
Soon, the gunfire ceased, leaving a ringing in survivor's ears, and after a quick look around the room, Tangerine confirmed the threats were all eliminated - but so were several guests of the charity gala.
You gasped in guilt, hand slapping over your mouth when you nearly tripped over Lisa's body; bullet holes shredding her flesh.
"Bruv," Lemon panted, approaching the two of you and making Tan flinch. "Woah, hey, easy, 's just me," he held his hands up, your lover sighing in relief and keeping you sheltered behind him. "You two good?" Brian asked, sheen of sweat coating his skin.
"You hit, love? Hey?" Tangerine looked down at you, keeping one arm around you and his body at a protective angle. "Shit, your face - your fucking face, sweetheart, look at me, look at me, lemme see," he frowned, holstering his gun to take both your cheeks in his hands and look for other injury.
"I'm okay, promise I'm not hurt," you panted, hands trembling. "Are you two?"
"I'm good," he nodded, eyeing Lemon. "Yeah?"
"Good, yeah, I'm good," Brian confirmed, "but I got some bad news. Looks like they got the banker. I can't tell if they made off with the money or not."
"They couldn't've, we only accepted checks tonight," you explained. "No cash, no assets to steal."
"Take it that's not public knowledge," Lemon sighed. "Probably thought they could rob y'all blind in one move, thinkin' tonight would have cash donations."
You sniffled, "You seen my family?"
"Uh," Lemon looked around, nodding, "yeah, your dad's over there."
Peering around Tangerine's form, you located your father slowly stalking around the room; taking note of the dead bodies left behind, survivors clearing out into the hallways. Fallon made his way up to you three, your voice trembling, "Daddy? You all right? Where's Mum and Oisín?"
"They're safe, with the paramedics," he reported, instantly taking you in his embrace. "Ah, fuck, lost sight of yah in this mess, had me worried, girl."
"I'm sorry."
"Nah," he whispered, caressing the back of your head, "don't apologize, you ain't do nothin'." He took a breath, keeping you caressed to his shoulder, "Gotta admit, felt a helluva lot better knowin' your man had your six." You pulled back slowly, watching your father sigh and nod at the Twins, admitting, "Thank you for protectin' my daughter, don't know how t'repay yah."
"Wasn't nothin' to it, sir," Tangerine assured, adjusting his suit jacket, "just wanted to protect my woman."
"I saw," he nodded. "You boys okay?"
"Yes, sir," Lemon nodded, Tangerine doing the same.
"Very good... Then I think I owe you an apology," your father told Tan, shocking you - not knowing the last time you ever heard you father admit to an apology.
"Not necessary, sir, I understand," Tan deflected, skin glistening in a thin sheen of sweat, blood dabbed around from the robber's fists, "I'm just relieved your family's safe."
"No, listen, I was wrong," Fallon admitted, "sayin' all that shit to you - about you. You know, makin' my assumptions, goin' based on rumors. You've got a bit of a reputation, I was just tryna protect my daughter from gettin' her heart broke." He sighed, shaking his head, "Can protect her from damn near everything - except the complications of her own heart; the woes of a relationship."
"I understand, sir."
"But seein' you tonight, fightin' for her, fightin' to get back to her... I was wrong," Fallon sighed, offering his hand. When Tan shook it, your father offered, "For what it's worth, you've got my permission to... Continue whatever this is. Any lad willing t'put themselves in harms way for my girl is all right in my books."
"I appreciate that," Tangerine sniffled, meeting your eye and smirking slightly. "Your daughter means a lot t'me, swear I won't make yah regret givin' us your approval."
Fallon sighed, nodding, "Yeah, all right, good. 'Cause she's precious to me, you know? I'll fuckin' gut you if you hurt her."
"I believe it," Tan sighed, a single twinge of nervousness to his tone, "but you don't gotta worry, sir, right, 'cause last thing I want is t'hurt the woman I love. She's precious to me, too."
"Right, good, uh, well... Thank you, both, for helping tonight. Would've been a fuckin' bloodbath without yah."
You frowned, gazing around the marble floors, "Still a bloodbath, ain't it? Half our men are dead, several investors... Daddy, who the fuck were these men?"
"That's what I'm gonna find out," he growled, his surviving personnel taking note of the event-room-turned-battlefield, slowly starting to move bodies. Little known fact: the hotel had an industrial size furnace in the boiler room - somewhere your father could burn bodies without the police being tipped off.
"Th-They said something about a ransom," you told the trio in a trembling tone, "about ransoming me back to you, Daddy. Said you wouldn't pay if I was injured, so they shouldn't rough me up."
"Hey," Tan whispered, pulling you into his side securely, "don't gotta worry 'bout that - know there's nowhere for anyone to hide you that I wouldn't find."
Fallon actually liked that sentiment, watching you nod and for your lover to hold you securely and placing a kiss to your forehead. So, he asked, knowing the answer, "Can I trust you to take care of my daughter, lad?"
"Absolutely."
"Don't make me regret this."
"Not in this lifetime, sir."
"Good. I'll find you lot in the mornin', get gone."
After a brief reunion with your mother and brother, learning they were uninjured and safe, you boyfriend finally opened the door to the hotel room you two had been assigned. Lemon was right next door, and when you entered, your luggage was left on the bed for you both. It was quiet as you both cleaned up and prepared for bed; silent tears trickling down your cheeks, mind replaying the night's events over and over and over... Like a never ending nightmare.
In the shower, you sat on the floor with arms tight around your knees, Tangerine sitting with you as warm water cascaded; cocooning steam around you. Blood washed off in waves of pink, circling the drain; your boyfriend gently massaging your body with a washcloth, discovering a scattering of injury - some still open and weeping. He was forced to blink back tears when your neck revealed a significant bruise; considering it a reminder of his failure to protect you, not knowing you felt the direct opposite and knew, if he hadn't been there, things would've been much, much worse.
When you joined Aaron in bed, the silence continued. Your heads laid on plush, stark white pillows; on your sides to stare at one another with hands clasped together between you. No words were needed, no explanation or thanks necessary, neither feeling the need to speak on what happened that night. Tangerine let go of your one hand, slowly reaching out to caress your cheek and jaw, fingertip tracing soft lines; shuffling closer to rest his cut forehead on yours.
In the dark of the room, over the sounds of the humming air conditioner unit, Tangerine whispered, "I love you, doll."
"I love you, too, Aaron. Thank you for... You know, tonight... All you did."
"You being safe, in my arms, is enough thanks."
"I-I'm glad you were here."
He nodded in agreement, "So am I. Don't know what I'd of done if I wasn't - if I had t'hear about this later... If they had succeeded in snatching you. Might not have been able to forgive myself."
"Good thing we don't have to know." Your eyes danced between his, admitting, "I don't think I want t'go without you, love. I don't think I feel secure unless you're with me."
"Yeah?" He smirked slightly, "That your way of sayin' you wanna spend more time with me?"
"Might be my way of sayin' I wanna spend all my time with you," you whispered, tears glazing your eyes. "And Daddy approves, so we don't have to sneak around anymore, right?"
"Right, get yah all t'myself," Tan agreed softly. "We'll talk in the morning, sweetheart, yeah?" He stretched slightly to peck your lips, encouraging, "Get some rest, sweetheart. 'S been a helluva night."
Tangerine made you feel safe, he protected you and killed for you - so while you were unsure how sleep would find you when your mind was plagued with replaying chaotic memories from that evening, you let yourself relax.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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maple-the-awesome · 6 months
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Friend or Foe || Part 1/3
Part 2 || Part 3
Pairings: Four, Hyrule, Legend x GN Reader
Overview: Link visits an alternate world without its hero and, more importantly, a version of you without your Link. Unfortunately, it seems even the smallest of details can lead to disastrous results. In spirt of October and Halloween, I've decided to do a little evil prompt because none of the Links have enough emotional damage yet😈
Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist
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Four has known you since childhood, both of your families having been good friends for generations. You've always been peas in a pot together with a level of closeness that results in a lot of ‘old married couple’ jokes. You're usually the first person Four returns to after his adventures, never sparing a single detail as he knows he can trust you with his life if it were to come down to it which makes this situation so perplexing...
This you is nothing like his dear friend back home. You don't have that same sweet smile that makes his heart do loops of delight, rather a wicked grin that makes his stomach turn in disgust. When he heard murmurs about an evil magic-wielder terrorizing this world, it would've been his last guess that such a person could look exactly like you - same face, same name, same everything!
"What an interesting assortment of weapons, especially this one!" Four bites back a snarl when this cursed version of you holds the Four Sword high into the sky with a teasing smirk, "It's practically dripping with magic. Where did you get it? ...Still not going to answer me? Oh, but you were so talkative earlier - what, with all your meaningless questions and desperate begging.”
Trapped behind cold iron bars, all Four can do is watch helplessly as you search through the rest of the items you’ve stolen from him, making little comments here and there which he refuses to acknowledge (he’s learned from Vaati that responses are only encouragement). The others should be here to rescue him soon anyway. In the meantime, he’s trying to make sense of this whole situation as he has been since you first caught him.
'This just can't be our flower. I refuse to believe it. They'd never be so cruel to us like this! They're our friend!' 
'Of course they aren’t, you idiot! There's no way they'd be evil at all! This scum is an imposter and the second we get out of this prison we'll teach them a lesson about why they shouldn’t dare tarnish an angel's name like -!'
'- Calm down. We're in a different version of Hyrule which means this is more than likely this kingdom’s version of -'
'- Hogwash! Don’t you dare finish that sentence! They'd never act like this even in a different world!'
'I don’t want to believe it either, however the fact of the matter is it isn’t impossible. Think about it. Everything about this world is similar to our own excluding our existence. There is no hero meaning we weren’t ever there to protect them. Did you think about that?'
'...No...'
'That's so sad!'
Four must agree with his arguing thoughts. Although this you isn't the one he has waiting for him back home, he can't help feeling some pity towards you, refusing to believe you could simply be born evil. Something led you down this path you currently trek, and maybe this world isn't necessarily within his range of responsibility, however he still feels a bit guilty for not being able to help any version of you, here or there.
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Hyrule met you shortly after meeting Zelda which was natural considering you were the eldest child of the crown. He must admit he's unfortunately never gotten the chance to know you too well, seeing as you have so many responsibilities that keep you busy while he, himself, is often sidetracked venturing through a broken world, yet nevertheless, he does know you to be a kind and generous leader - someone he’s always admired very deeply which is why he’s having so much trouble accepting you could ever be like this…
This kingdom has a sort of sadness that flows throughout the dusty sky and crumbled grass. Legend mentioned something about visiting a kingdom like it before, although Hyrule wonders now if all aspects of the Vet's experiences would match. He would ask, however such a question wouldn't be appropriate at the moment given as both heroes have been brought to their knees, spears held close to their heads to keep them submissive (not that it gets rid of Legend's scowl).
When Hyrule first laid eyes on you while being forced him to take a knee in front of your throne, he had been relieved, so certain that you'd immediately wave off your hostile guards and take note of the obvious misunderstanding that has occurred, after all this traveler is a dear friend of yours who should be treated as such. Alas, Hyrule shivers instead, frozen under your cold gaze as you glare down upon Legend and him.
"These are the heroes you found? I thought they'd be taller - more a threat than little mice," You sigh boredly with your head rested against your hand, although you do take a second longer to admire Hyrule, smirking at the boy who unlike his feisty friend looks absolutely petrified to be in your presences. 
Pushing yourself off your throne, you approach the poor boy and kneel before him. Despite his attempt to flinch away, you still succeed in running your hand against his cheek, "...Oh, but you're a cutie, aren't you? A rare gem in a world so broken."
At least you're aware of the current status of this kingdom. Hyrule would like to think that with some bitterness in mind, however he actually manages to feel sympathetic while watching you wander back to your throne, not missing that frown upon your face. 
It’s then that he’s reminded of a story his friends and him were told upon arrival here - that this world’s hero had died tragically many years ago. There’s no evidence that this world’s current state is because of you which means you could’ve simply inherited a cursed throne and allowed your own heart to hardened under the depressing circumstances, a fate Hyrule fears might have easily occurred to his own version of you as well if not for the support you had received from your siblings and himself. If only you weren’t alone in this world. Maybe then you could have become a beloved queen here, too.
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Legend denies that he ever knew you; it hurts too much to accept otherwise. For the short time that he had known you, you had been a light in his life, always so sweet and magical in a way that could lift even the darkest of thoughts. There's a side of him who wishes every night that he'll be blessed with a dream about you because much to his dismay, that's his only way of seeing you again. He'd give anything to meet you in person once more even if for just a second, but not like this...
He's trying hard to keep the scowl on his face - trying to act unintimated, trying to act annoyed - despite how much his heart is aching deep down. He can feel his eyes burning. He can taste iron as he bites down upon his lip, praying to Hylia he'll wake up any moment now.
Promptly after arriving in this Hyrule, the Chain had received several warnings from locals about a ‘demon’ which lurks in the night. They claim that the creature only ever appears in the shadows, preying upon weak minds and cursing them with cruel nightmares. 
Legend, of course, dismissed it all as a story meant to scare children, even going as far as to give Warrior a hard time for being jumpy while the group was setting up camp in a forest right outside of town. Unlike some of the others, Legend doesn’t care if the wind whispers or how certain trees around them look like faces, and he was actually sleeping quite well amongst it all until getting up to go to the bathroom. 
Walking back into camp, he had been alarmed to notice a cloaked figure hovering right above Wild, their hand outstretched towards his head as the Champion shifted and whimpered in his sleep. Everyone else appeared to already be in similar states of distress, even Time’s stone expression crinkled in pain.
"HEY! GET AWAY FROM THEM!" Legend was quick to shout, catching the monster's attention before drawing his sword which he had thankfully taken with him earlier. He planned on fighting off the beast then hopefully waking the others from their nightmares, yet instead he found himself trapped in one of his own when the cloaked figure removed their hood.
Now he can't move, frozen in terror as he tries desperately to shake the feeling...No...No, it can't be you. This is a trick - an illusion the monster has created to mess with him. You would never stain your beautiful face with such a wicked smile. You'd never hurt anything or anyone the way this thing already has!
Regardless of his doubt, Legend can only shake as you approach a lot faster than he can process, likely aided by your ability to effortlessly float his way. Whether due to a spell of yours or a result of his own weak will, he doesn't jerk away like he wants to when you run a hand over his cheek, cooing in a mocking way, "Aw, get a lot of nightmares, do you honey?"
"N-No. Not at all," He manages, at last finding the strength to swing your way which is an action helped by closing his eyes. If he can't see your face, he won't have to battle his concern over hurting you; he can better convince himself that you aren't truly here as you've never been.
"Liar," You easily dodge him, using merely two fingers to grab his sword midair. Keeping it in place, you lean forward, your breath making his legs wobble as the tears finally begin to prick in the corners of his eyes, "I can read your thoughts - see your fears…Oh, but this is far worse than any nightmare you've had, isn't it, my dear? Far worse than any I could bestow upon you with my magic. Poor thing. You miss them terribly, don't you? If that's the case, then you shouldn’t avoid me so. Soak it up. Remember what I look like. After all, it's the last chance you'll ever get to reach out and touch me."
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boytoyhalo · 5 months
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Can you give me your fitpac headcanons to make me feel better after whatever the fuck Bad's stream was today. I am so unwell...
absolutely i can!!! let's see here hmm
pac likes to sleep/cuddle with fit sprawled out directly on top of him, like actively crushing him, because the deep pressure makes him feel safe (i think I said this in a different post but accidentally switched the names around, tho tbh i could see this being true both ways so maybe they take turns)
pac's ring markings glow bright blue when he's flustered or startled (see my blue ringed octopus hybrid pac headcanon) fit discovered this for the first time with the "how you doin big daddy" incident and since then fit has been going out of his way to sneak up on pac to make it happen because he thinks it's cute, this is also part of why he's gotten more confident with his flirting
fit would never say it out loud (partially because it would embarass him and mostly because he knows it would embarass pac) but he actually capital l Loves it when pac says his name with the "-tch" sound at the end. he thinks about it more than he shoud probably
this is less of a headcanon and more a writing prompt or like. a scenario that i think would happen but i think that at some point they'd be goofing around and threatening each other over whose a better fighter (they both think its each other but theyre arguing for themselves. for the bit) and fit would take off his prosthetic arm to hold it in his other hand and point it at pac like a sword and pac would be all oh yeah i can do that too and try to take off his leg standing up and would of course immediately overbalance and fall and fit would rush to check if he's ok while laughing his ass off and pac would use the leg to knock his legs out from under him so they would both be on the ground laughing so hard they couldn't breathe. and then fit would make a stupid pun about pac "not having a leg to stand on in this argument"
speaking of prosthetic's pac normally likes to keep his metal leg covered but the first time fit gets a proper look at it he's like woah your prosthetic looks so cooler and sleek and high tech i wish mine was like that and pac preens because he made it himself (ok it was him and mike but thats practically the same thing) and after that pac starts wearing his right pant leg rolled up (fit is only half of the reason, the other half is that it makes richarlyson feel better about his own leg but this is a fitpac post)
they both Really Like watching each other fight, hence the dungeon dates, but their favorite part is after all the mobs are cleared when they're cleaning their weapons and sorting through loot and just sitting quietly together basking in the shared victory and adrenaline and praising and complimenting each other for a fight well done
fit is aroacespec (he can count the amount of people he's been actually attracted to on one hand) and between that and his trust-no-one 2b2t background he's pretty inexperienced with most relationship related things, so pac is a lot of firsts for him. Pac not-so-secretly loves this because he's possessive and likes that no one else gets the type of attention he does from fit
fit starts wearing his glasses more often when he's not expecting combat or some other situation that will make them too inconvenient because pac says he looks cute in them
pac likes to make fit carry him on his back because 1. he likes the contact and 2. its fun to feel tall. the first time this happens it's because pac's metal leg takes a hit during a battle and is basically useless til he can repair it, so fit carries him back to chume labs out of necessity. After that pac usually makes up an excuse or plays up any hits he take so fit will do it again, except he's really bad at lying so fit knows what he's doing but he doesn't mind so he doesn't call him out on it
pac's hair looks really soft and fit realllly wants to run his hands through it but he's way too awkward to ask because that feels like a line being crossed and whenever pac runs his own hands through it fit just stares like a total weirdo which tubbo and phil both make fun of him for but somehow even then pac doesnt seem to notice. it takes him a long ass time to mention it to pac who he then finds out really likes having his hair played with and has been wanting fit to do it for forever but has also felt too awkward to ask. and then they laugh at themselves for being dumbasses (and then when they kiss for the first time and every time after that fit's flesh hand immediately goes up to his hair)
fit mentions that when he gets overstimulated sometimes its too much effort to remember to take his hearing aids out so pac asks if he can borrow them for a little bit and gives them back to fit with a new noise cancelling feature, and fit has to stop himself from literally proposing marriage right then and there. He settles for just cleaning chume labs top to bottom and leaving some chocolate and an embarassingly sappy thank you note that would read as a straight up love confession to anyone outside of him and pac's oblivious-but-also-not-oblivious slowburn-but-not-slowburn bubble
sometimes if pac is tired but cant get to sleep he'll go find fit and ask him to just talk at him for a bit because his voice is relaxing and if he falls asleep with his head on fit's shoulder or in his lap fit will sit as still as a rock for hours to not wake him up
ok ok you got me rambling this post is way too long now and most of these can barely count as headcanons but yippeeee i hope u like them!!!! everything will be ok we will have our morning crew and fitpac content back soon i promise
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stinkysam · 7 months
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Monkey D. Luffy - Fish.
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Warning : none
Genre : fluff
Synopsis : "oop siren!male reader who was saved by the crew from a bar that was gonna kill him to make food? all the fluffy stuff, i think reader would sing to the crew but very specific love songs to luffy, and i feel he would be running away from sanji and avoid the kitchen 😭" - @vainillacookie
Reader : male (he/you)
A/N : I pictured the reader like shyarly, so he doesn't have any legs, though his tail can be imagined differently
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You knew you shouldn't have ventured alone out of the Grand Line but you wanted to see all the seas.
But here you were in the east blue, about to be eaten by some humans.
"Let go of me !" You yelled, slapping your tail against their faces. You struggled as best as you could, clawing and biting anything you could, yelling and screaming in hope to draw more attention to the kitchen.
"Shut up !" One of them yelled your way but you continued screaming. You'd explode their eardrums if necessary. Your voice is ringing in their ears, making some of them bleed.
You figured it worked as some waiters entered back in the kitchen, asking for the noise to stop as some customers began to be curious.
"Help ! Help me ! They're going to eat me !" You yelled and they cringed, hoping no one heard that.
They all tried to restrain you and silence you until the doors were kicked open, a small human making his entrance. He didn't look like a waiter or a cook and you hoped it was a customer here to help you.
"Mh ?" The man stared at you as everyone froze, his hand on his hat. "What's going on ?"
"They're trying to eat me ! Help !" You quickly yelled his way, still struggling, trying to get away from them.
"But you're a… a fish ?!"
"I'm not a fish !" You yelled back, angry. Did you look like a fucking fish ? "I'm a siren, you idiot ! Help me !"
The man stared at you and tilted his head. True. You didn't really look like a fish. His bad. He seemed to finally notice the people holding you down and frowned.
"Let go of him. He's not a fish." He said sternly.
"Or what." They stared at him, slowly moving away from you to grab their kitchen's ustensiles, clearly wanting to use them as weapons.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He said, smiling. Stretching his right arms as it cracked a bit. "Nami. Zoro. Sanji. Usopp" He called out and four more people entered the kitchen. "Me and my crew will defeat you."
The three men looked serious as well, ready to either open the door or to attack them. One had a slingshot, ready to shoot, one had green hair and a sword ready to cut while the third man, blonde hair, was just standing there looking menacing ?
"I don't think you want your customers to know you're cooking people." The woman, Nami added, threatening to open the door for everyone to see inside. "Plus, I've seen a few reporters in the room. They'd get the word around quickly."
"We… we don't have to go that far, ahah…" One of the men holding you said, letting go of you as the others did the same, slowly.
You pushed yourself away from them, struggling to go toward your saviors. Nami went to you with someone else, holding you by the arm.
"Are you okay ? Do you need help walking ?"
"Yes please." You said, throwing a glare to those that had tried to cook you. Nami and her friend helped you get away, accompanying you outside on their ship and soon the others followed.
They walked you to their kitchen, unaware you were anxious at the idea of getting inside another one. Looking for all the exits
"I'm Monkey D. Luffy." The man said, the one that had entered first, mistaking you for a fish. "And I'm gonna be king of the pirates !" He announced confidently, putting his right foot on the chair.
"Zoro." The green haired man said as he sat down.
"And I'm the great captain Usopp. But you can call me Usopp." The one with the slingshot said, looking as confident as Luffy.
"I'm Nami. Nice to meet you." The woman said, sitting down next to you.
"And I'm Sanji. Don't worry we're not going to cook you." The blonde haired man said as he looked through the drawers for… knives ? Was he going to try to cook you too ?
You looked at him with big eyes as all your cells screamed at you to get away. Frozen in place.
"Oh no, no, no. This isn't for you." Sanji said, looking at the knife. "You see, we didn't get to finish our lunch, so we're going to finish it here."
You continued to stare at him, afraid of what was coming next. But he simply opened the fridge and took something out before beginning to cut and cook it. You relaxed slightly, still keeping an eye on him while Luffy smiled, clearly amused.
"So ? What's your name ?" Nami asked, putting her face in front of you to get your attention.
"Huh… [Name]." You simply said, still unsure of what to think of them, looking at her with wide eyes.
"What's a siren doing here in east blue ? I read you exclusively lived in the Grand Line in Fish-man Island ?" She continued and Luffy perked up at the mention of Grand Line.
"I huh… wanted to see all the seas…"
"Wait, Fish-man island ? So does this mean mermaids exist ? I've seen fishmen but-" Sanji turned, suddenly growing interested.
"Of course ! Why wouldn't they ?" You frowned at his question but he looked surprised and simply smiled, looking pleased by your answer. "Say, you really aren't going to eat me ?" You asked quietly, looking at all of them, still suspicious.
"Of course not. You aren't a fish, [Name]." Luffy said, placing a hand on your shoulder.
-
It's been a few days and you got to know them more even though you avoided staying in the kitchen with Sanji for too long. He seemed nice, but you feared to see their fridge empty with only you to feed them.
But you didn't mind spending time with Luffy. He had easily made himself a cozy place in your heart with his smile and laugh and carefree personality.
They found out you had a pretty singing voice when you sang for Luffy, helping him fall asleep at night, and helping the rest of the crew on the same occasion.
They didn't mind that you sang only for him because you had a strong voice that the wind transported, accompanying them for the day.
Luffy would grin each time you sang to him, not noticing you wouldn't sing to the others. Loving your voice and the rhythm you sang to.
He'd sing with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and clapping his hands together. He sings a little out of tune at times but it always comes from the heart.
He'd often ask you to join his crew. After all, there's always a musician in a pirate crew, ready to sing their adventures and exploits.
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withered--s0uls · 5 days
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Oh look it's another GD crossover
Ghost Drone AU - @electrozeistyking
You already saw all this art but shhh HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
This originally started out with me just wanting to draw Beanie interacting with the Intertwined Codes Kids but then I added some extra stuff lol.
If you're a reader of Intertwined Codes, this kinda sorta spoils future stuff bc only the twins have been mentioned in the Draft/Teaser fic but oh well. You have been warned.
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IC!Uzi wouldn't like actually meet GD!N bc they'd kinda decide that "hey, let's not have the widowed man see an alternate version of his wife that actually got live." simply out of respect kinda?? So she would stick around at home with the kids whilst IC!N goes out to look for Beanies Dad after their kids drag her to them lmao.
So yeah she doesn't necessarily know the extent of the mans depression, the kids just mentioned there only being a dad so she just specifically asks about GD!N in this doodle
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IC!N would quickly pick up on GD!N not being completely okay, even without being told any details. So he probably would end up sitting him down to talk on their way back to the IC!Doorman families place, wanting to help if he can in any way. (He runs a Daycare and tries to also be a support to any parent that needs it, so I feel he out of habit would lean into trying to do that with GD!N)
More/The kids under the Cut otherwise the post looks so long rip
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I will go over each of these one by one (can'tdo close ups bc 10 image limit, I'll reblog this in a second with the close ups.)
Left are the Code-Related Nuzi kids, right are the adopted ones.
Code related kids
Zagi:
Not much to say, I'm still working out their personality - they're maybe 2-3 years older than Beanie, so they aren't too far apart in age. :)
Orita:
She's the sibling who started the trend of putting stickers on her siblings, so she DEFINITELY would do the same with Beanie.
She also probably originally was going to show her how to build a weapon, but her parents promptly stopped that lmao .
She would think it's really cool that Beanie has a custom core icon & in general is completely customized from the start! She herself was originally put into a regular worker body (just with the tail and headband being custom made by her mom), she had to build the DD forearms herself. She also has a sticker of the DD icon on her core, covering the WD icon :3
Rexim:
At this point he has enough siblings to be past the "ew a little kid" phase, so luckily Beanie gets spared that. His main camera is damaged, he only really uses his headband optics to look around, so he would kinda just look as if he's staring past her a lot. But bc of the obvious cracks in his visor I feel she would pick up on the fact he's not actually ignoring her.
Also he definitely would just play music to her, because IC!Uzi kinda always has music on whilst working in her workspace he kinda picked up some of her taste in music (Hence he's playing the same song that Uzi is shown to have been listening to in Ep7)
Raven:
First up THANK YOU Zeisty for helping me brainstorm silly stuff for them. They're a little ball of chaos now and I love them.
Anyways.
They would join Orita in bedazzling Beanie, and then they'd start talking about bird facts and also try to get Beanie to talk about her interests.
(Their height difference isnt 100% accurate bc halfway through drawing this I changed the IC timeline, making Raven about the same age as Zagi instead of them being a teen, so I kinda had to manually try and semi-fit their heights lol)
Adopted Kids
Ray:
Nothing to say. He's a baby. Tho whilst I was outlining this one I had to giggle because of how big he is in Beanies hands. She's so tiny 😭💕 /affectionate
Annika:
Oh boy. Ann.
Annika is the eldest kid & was adopted a while before Zagi was coded / whilst the parents were organizing the code copies for Zagi
She does NOT know how to talk to other kids. Never did. It made her stick out at the orphanage wing because she just avoided everyone. And it is very chaotic when Olivia and Ray first show up, because Ann's only idea of talking to other Drones is "well you got to be relatable" so she brings up the siblings dead parents bc like, her code parents are dead too. Both pairs dying to DDs. So yeah she probably would be the first, if not only one, in the whole household to just bring up GD!Uzi. She would do it like it's nothing either.
IC!Uzi would promptly get her to stop and sit her down having a conversation about "what did N and I say about trying to connect on that topic?"
Like IC!Uzi would actually feel really bad about it despite Beanie not knowing her mom. Bc she herself obviously didn't remember IC!Nori growing up but still didn't like the topic.
Olivia:
Olivia, as I said, was greeted with the topic of dead parents by Annika as well. So she probably would kinda interfere when IC!Uzi goes to sit Ann down to talk.
She would feel the need to apologize for the older girls behavior (which Ann would apologize for herself later too ofc) and would try to get Beanie to go play something together whilst IC!Uzi sorts that whole situation out.
She's also the closest to Beanies age probably, just was forced to mature bc of what happened to her parents, despite being taken in by Nuzi shortly after. She still obviously acts like a kid tho when comfortable, so I feel she would kinda ease up around Beanie and actually act more like a 4-5 year old around her.
Bonus? Bonus!
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Needless to say Beanie would return home covered in stickers & hairpins (Orita & Raven have more than enough of those, they'd just let Beanie keep some)
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RIP GD!N having to get her out of those stickers once they're back home
Also, for the "*humming*" variation of the picture I blame @k1k0oftheworld. Kiko was in vc with me when I was talking about how Beanie would be covered in stickers when she gets home, and saw the doodles as well.
He proposed the following scenario after seeing Rexim show Beanie IC!Uzis playlist:
Beanie humming dead batteries song & GD!N having a breakdown bc it reminds him of GD!Uzi
I do not take accountability for this, I was going to spare the poor widowed man.
(I scrapped the idea of him not knowing ab the IC!Doorman family and him getting a mini heart attack when Beanie goes "I met Mom today" in favor of him and IC!N meeting & talking - I WANTED TO SPARE HIS POOR HEART)
@k1k0oftheworld you owe him money for a therapy session now /silly
Anyways that's it, I'll put the close ups in the reblog like I said 👍
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five-one-two-station · 3 months
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Unknown Pleasures.
I've been thinking about the possible, well, mechanics of Elster and Ariane's physical intimacy.
Specifically, whether it would be possible for Ariane to reciprocate, sexually, to Elster in some way - I have to think she'd want to, and it's hard not to imagine Elster wouldn't want to indulge her.
Some spicy musings on the possibilities to follow.
Obviously Elster isn't intended or built for sexual pleasure; we can actually probably assume that she doesn't even have genitals, if the black surface "shell" is indeed the exoskeleton Replikas are said to have. What we see when she salvages the arm and chestplate seems to suggest the same thing too, that her exterior as we see it is simply part of her body as a whole.
(I'm also inclined to interpret her "pod" as something closer to a dialysis machine than a bed or cot simply for sleeping - something that manages the waste products her external anatomy seems to make no allowances for, as far as we can tell.)
But we know from her behaviors that she definitely does have some kinds of sensation through this exterior - in particular, we know she has the approximate touch-feedback of a human, required to operate lots of the human-suitable mechanisms she comes across, and she does seem to feel some kind of pain when she's injured.
This makes sense - both these things serve obvious practical functions. Elster, as a combat engineering unit, needs to know how tightly a bolt is fitted every bit as accurately as she might have to know how hard she's squeezing a trigger; and pain is a useful thing for any organism as a self-preservation measure, especially prudent for a comparatively valuable unit type.
You can of course calibrate the roughly appropriate trigger pull standards for any number of weapons into your LSTRs as they're rolling off the production line - but the bolts, nuts, screws, panels and fittings she's going to work with in the field will all behave differently due to their unique conditions and environments. So she does definitely need to have a kind of sensation coming back, even if only to know how far to crank a wrench before it breaks something.
Following this logic, and maybe even the Nation's preference for efficiency and physical specialization in the Replikas, it would seem to me that the most sensitive interface points of her body are probably her hands, since those are the tools of her function.
As for pain - well, we know pain and pleasure in human bodies both occur via the same pathways, and given how closely Replika biology mimics that of a Gestalt, we have to assume that's just as true. Which is to say, if she can feel physical pain, she can potentially feel physical pleasure too - even if she isn't constructed with that in mind. It might just take some creativity, and some engineering knowhow to "hack" her body to use it this way, which I'm sure the two could muster between them.
Imagine then, if you will, Ariane and Elster experimenting with a jury-rigged contraption of multimeter and radio parts, wired in through the finer structures of her hands, to see if they can figure out how to induce the equivalent of organic pleasure through her existing sensory mechanisms.
Not just for a fun little experiment or to pass some time, you understand - but to find another way they can share and love each other in the freedom and isolation of their exile, even if it has to be invented. Another way for Ariane to reach for Elster despite the limits and restrictions the Nation has defined for them; another way for Elster to let her in.
Imagine Elster kneeling, so she won't fall if she is to be suddenly overwhelmed, hands outstretched like a religious devotee, while above her Ariane begins to tune into the responses she wants, chasing her ecstatic threshold like a radio operator might chase a precious, narrow, signal on the dial.
Imagine, once they'd started making a real science of it, that they'd want to bring more intimacy, more closeness into the process. Imagine Ariane sitting on Elster's torso in their cosy little bed cubby, studying her reactions as she makes herself an expert in them, taking her own pleasure in providing Elster's this time. Imagine her sitting on Elster's face while Elster faithfully offers their invention up to her, so that she can ensure as artfully as possible that they both come in time.
You might even imagine them getting real weird with it, refining and minimizing their devices, and installing parts into some of the cavity gap somewhere, like the space we've seen inside her torso, so Ariane can pop open a panel and reach inside to invent a new kind of powerful, visceral intimacy, one that's entirely unique to them.
Imagine the exchange of trust involved. Not just from Elster to Ariane either, but from Ariane to Elster; both in sending her fragile human hands into the unyielding structures of her lover's armored and artificial body, and in having to rely on Elster not to let her do any harm, even from well intended ignorance.
Just some thoughts. Got thinking about the possibility Ariane might be curious to experiment with Elster's physiology, beyond basic maintenance, after seeing @arainydancer's great latest animation "Fixer", through no fault of hers.
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radioisntdead · 1 month
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Good evening folks! Thank you tuning in!
I'm supposed to be finishing up a request right now but It's six am, I was missing my dog and this popped in my brain, Alastor who hates dogs and a reader who has one
and I can NOT write anything else until I get this out of my brain, I may be projecting a little bit here.
Alastor x reader with a dog headcanons + a drabble thing? in the middle [Romantic]
Warnings!
Brief mention of your dog passing on [it's implied from old age]
all dogs go to heaven but yours wanted to stay with you even if you ended up down below, Alastor being mean to dogs, also once again Alastor may be OOC or leaning into fanon, Apologies for any grammar mistakes!
Okay so it's pretty well known that Alastor doesn't like dogs because they were involved during his death [I think, I can't remember if that's canon or fanon but we're keeping it for this]
I don't think he's scared of them, he just thinks they're one of the worst things created, especially the hellborn ones, not hellhounds [to be fair he probably hates them too]
You know the dogs that fizzarolli has in Helluva boss? The tweaked out lookin' ones? Yeah Alastor hates em' if he saw one on the street he either moves away from em', moves them aside with his staff while giving the owners the stink eye, he doesn't go out of his way to do anything to them usually.
Point is dude doesn't like dogs and if he can help it doesn't interact with them, and I see him more as a cat person CURSED CAT ALASTOR
Unfortunately for him he somehow gained romantic intent for someone who ADORES their funky lil' dog.
You have no idea why your dog was in hell with you, they weren't a bad dog, they were a good one! The very best on fact!
Sure they had tried to murder your best friend by trying to suffocate em' in their sleep, several times, but they were a dog, a sweetheart and they knocked off the murderous intent if you gave em' a snack plus if anyone knew anything was that all pets, Dog, cat, raccoon, hamster they all went to heaven! So you had no idea why your lil' buddy was in eternal damnation with you!
You died so close together, it was maybe a month or so from their passing to yours, you couldn't wait to see your lil' elderly buddy again but you didn't think it'd be so soon! You still had a life to live and you knew that they'd want you to live on!
You woke up in hell alot nicer then other folks, with your dog sitting on your chest licking you awake,
A golden ring around their furry neck, they looked a little different then they did when they were alive with you, but you knew that this was your dog, there was just that feeling when you looked in their eyes.
Maybe everything wouldn't be too bad with them here, You could get through with them by your side after all.
It was hard the first few years but you managed, getting used to the chaos around, finding a decent job and having to carry around a weapon just in case some psycho decided they wanted to kill you that day, and respawning was a whole hassle and you had your lil' buddy waiting for you at home!
You got a Job at a local diner near your apartment complex, your manager sucked, as did some of your coworkers but the pay was decent and you got along well enough with the coworkers that didn't suck plus you got to take home meals and share with your lil' buddy, They didn't particularly like the hell dog food so it was a fair way to feed em' without breaking the bank
You had met Alastor there somehow, it was fuzzy in your memory, you think he came in for coffee or maybe it was to make a deal with some poor unfortunate soul, all you remember is that you had managed to catch the Radio's demon eye,
Looking back you were pretty sure he was trying to get your soul only for the two of you to end up courting.
You had neglected to tell him about your lil buddy until he came to your apartment for the first time, after maybe the fourth date for coffee,
it wasn't quite his style but it was nice, and he particularly liked the vintage radio that stood on your kitchen counter, he was having a pleasant time chatting with you before you went into the kitchen to make the two of you some coffee and some snacks, as you went into the kitchen he looked around your living room his smile straining slightly as he found a dog staring at him with the rage of twenty-five grown men, Alastor simply turned to the kitchen where you were making a charcuterie board for the two of you
"My dear, I fear you have a rat problem,"
Alastor said gesturing at your lil' buddy who continued staring at him, the murderous intent of 'who is this man and why is it in my home?' was clear
You looked up from your charcuterie board confused until you see your lil' buddy death glaring Alastor
"Pardon? What do you- Oh! Yeah that's my lil' buddy, I'm sure I mentioned them once or twice, don't mind em' they're mostly harmless."
"Ah."
And from there came a rivalry, Alastor came to your apartment? That lovely lil' pooch of yours would sit between you on the couch, Alastor would move them away with his staff thingy,
He wanted to dance with you with soft jazz playing in the background? Your lil' buddy lacking fear was running between your legs trying to grab your attention, only for it to backfire when you tripped and Alastor catched you effectively taking your attention
He straight up mocks your dog, your lil' buddy is too short to get on the couch? Bully time, doesn't matter how big your dog is they're getting called a rat, rodent or a mutt by Alastor, if your lil' buddy earned their wings they're getting called a winged rat,
I imagine he's probably more tolerant towards smaller breeds like Corgi's or Pomeranians for example and less inclined towards dogs typically breed for hunting.
He asked once if your willing to re-home the lil' buddy, and you probably almost stabbed him because the audacity of this man?
Definitely was a rough patch in the relationship.
He gets a lil' nervous now when your holding very very sharp knives outside of the kitchen and upset
Your lil' buddy definitely tries to bite off Alastor's ankles.
Later on in the relationship let's say when you and Alastor wed, your dog is your best man, maid of honor, flower girl, ring bearer whatever it's one of those and Alastor has to put up with it,
Rosie likes to tease about how Alastor gave your lil' buddy the stink eye as they waddled behind you as you walked around during your wedding activities,
Alastor specifically had Husk hold them during your dance, and the majority of your wedding after,
Husk thankfully was spared from the rage of your lil' buddy by giving them some of whatever dinner was served.
Now let's move on to house life once y'all are moved in and everything.
Alastor does NOT want them on the bed, he'd rather they be in a whole different room but if you truly desire it aka if it's the hill your willing to die on
He'll invest in a dog bed, or crate, and you can put it in the corner, FAR from the bed you share,
If Alastor falls asleep with you and your lil' buddy is in the room,
They are out for BLOOD, Alastor's in particular if he doesn't wake up immediately he will wake up with a dog on his face,
He can't do anything to harm the dog with you nearby but he can kick them out of the room, or pop's em' into doggy prison he locks them out of your shared room
He does somewhat agree to a truce with your lil' buddy after a few years
Alastor would take the lil' buddy on walks and make sure they stay safe and not attacked by any sinner with a death wish, after all you would probably go on a revenge filled bender and while he'd adore to see it because you know he's a murderous radio demon who likes despair,
he'd rather you not be upset over losing your beloved pet even if he thinks they're a disgrace.
Maybe if he's in a good mood he'll toss a piece of venison to your lil' buddy, and your lil' buddy would not try to smother Alastor in his sleep, or trip the two of you dancing as often as they did before.
Now when Alastor just dipped for 7 years your lil' buddy missed him,
For about three days at most
Your lil' buddy was happy to have ALL of your attention again and they got to sleep in the human bed! And had full reign of the house.
They held very little loyalty to Alastor.
And for good reason!
They were very displeased when the two of you moved to the Hazbin hotel and they spotted Alastor just smiling there, like he didn't just leave for seven years, the audacity!
Let's hope you have a quick reaction time because your gonna have to stop your lil' buddy from chompin' off Alastor's ankles, because how dare he vanished for seven years? Who does he think he is?!
You and Angel dust probably bond over Fat nuggets and your lil' buddy, a very small Pet parent club was formed, Charlie's in it.
Vaggie was probably a lil' concerned about the fact that your dog has a whole adjusted halo as a collar but that's the least concerning thing in the hotel.
If your lil' buddy is big enough Niffty rides em' like a horse,
She has to be watched when she does so.
If you like to dress up your lil' buddy dress em' up as Alastor and he is either flattered by it or your pet is getting a outfit change immediately,
you and Angel have your lil' buddy and Fat nuggets dress up in different outfits sometimes matching if they get along well!
Imagine if we bring cursed cat Alastor into it, I can see it doing two ways
Either Cursed cat Alastor is 100% worse, like Alastor doesn't like your dog but he's not actively trying to eliminate them like Cursed cat Alastor is, radio noises and growls can be heard if you don't separate them, like they are both getting injured, both have murderous intent and just feral time, it is NOT fun.
OR
They team up, Alastor is just trying to eat his deer carcass? Not anymore they are double teaming to steal his breakfast, cursed cat Alastor just appears and starts vibrating while your lil' buddy is trying to drag the carcass off the table,
It never works and often ends with the both of them getting picked up by the scruff's of their necks and getting unleashed outside to wreck havoc on the others unless you find them first.
Thank you for tuning in and reading folks! Reader's lil' buddy is heavily inspired by my own dearly departed dog
hence the murderous intent your lil' buddy has and the tried to kill your best friend bit at the beginning
Also a little tidbit I was thinking was that your lil' buddy was your guardian angel for the time until you passed and then they just followed you down, their lil' doggy halo slipping from their head to around their neck like a really flexible collar, and the earned their wings comment, Alrighty goodnight folks!
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antianakin · 2 months
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@theneutralmime
I'm very definitively positive on clone/Jedi relationships, both platonic and romantic.
I'm going to hit the biologically children thing first because like... no, they're not. If you want to go that route, then you have to count Grogu as a middle aged adult because he's 50 years old even though his official name for a while was literally "The Child" and he's definitely treated like a child in the narrative more often than he isn't. Jango Fett was (as far as I'm aware) a regular human. The clones, the altered ones at least (so not Omega or Boba), are almost an entirely different species. They LOOK human, but they've been engineered to be different from the baseline human they were based off of to the point that they aren't necessarily all that similar to a regular human beyond cosmetics. So if you don't view them as "fucked up humans who should be treated like children because they're technically only 10 years old" and instead view them as "subspecies of human that reaches maturity around 9 years old", then it's a lot harder to view them as children.
I think that it's fair to claim that the clones are SHELTERED and likely fairly ignorant and naive about a lot of things in the world due to their upbringing, sure, but that doesn't make them children. They're also relatively young regardless of whether you'd consider them children or not, the youngest ones we know about are sent out to war at what would be the equivalent of about 20 years old and they're only around 26ish by the time the war ENDS. So even accounting for the accelerated aging, they're still pretty young and there's going to be a lot about the galaxy and how to live in it that would be new to them. Their understanding of how relationships work is going to be skewed given everything we know about their childhoods and the way the Kaminoans canonically seem to view them.
So I think that the Jedi and clones would likely often end up in a sort of mentor/mentee relationship, especially in the beginning. We see this most strongly with Yoda and the three Coruscant Guard characters and Plo Koon with the three 104th characters in the first four episodes of season 1, as well as with Shaak Ti and Fives and Echo during the Clone Cadets episode of season 3. The Jedi are natural teachers and I think they'd start to get to know these young men who are so devastatingly intelligent but who were only ever taught about how to fight a war and they'd immediately take the opportunity to help guide the clones towards figuring out who they are and who they want to be. We're pretty much told that this is true point blank when I believe it's Nala Se or Lama Su speaks to Dooku during season 6 and they say that the Jedi have been encouraging individuality in the clones. Fives says that the Jedi respect the clones and calls the Jedi their best friends at two separate points in the narrative. The Jedi literally use their OWN PHILOSOPHIES to help the clones learn what it means to be PEOPLE and to embrace that for themselves.
The relationship between the Jedi and the clones is honestly one of the most beautiful and heartwrenching dynamics in the entirety of Star Wars to me. Their destinies are entwined irrevocably and they are each the others' doom and salvation all at once. The Jedi help the clones discover who they are, but they're also going to end up being the reason the clones lose all sense of themselves. The clones are a light in the dark for the Jedi during the war, but they're also going to be the weapon that helps plunge the entire world into darkness by eliminating the Jedi. These two groups that are SO similar in so many ways but for vastly different reasons who are thrown together by forces beyond either of their control and learn to understand each other better than anyone else ever has and love and trust each other implicitly for it and that love and trust is then used to destroy them both. It's absolutely devastating and really gets me in those feels.
As far as romantic ships, I sort-of said my piece on the age thing earlier, but I honestly find that fussing about characters' ages in Star Wars is more ridiculous than it usually is. These characters are literally ALIENS and it's a universe where human characters who are twelve years old are allowed to hold office. I have my personal preferences in terms of clone/Jedi ships, but I am a very ship and let ship sort of person (yes, even with the ships I DESPISE), so I'm not going to make a big deal out of clone/Jedi ships. I also like clone/clone ships which tons of people find problematic for other reasons, so whatever.
I HAVE seen the superior/subordinate thing get addressed in clone/Jedi fics before. Sometimes it ends in the characters deciding to wait until after the war and when the clones are given rights and official citizenship status or something before they begin a romantic relationship, and sometimes it ends in the characters recognizing that a lot of the rules shouldn't really matter when they're at war and they could die literally any day and they deserve to find happiness and pleasure where they can find it so long as they work to ensure that this doesn't impact their respective responsibilities. Again though, this is a space fantasy and absolutely nobody on the writing staff for The Clone Wars was taking the structure and internal dynamics of this fantasy military particularly seriously, so I'm not sure why I or anyone else should have to if they don't want to.
So yeah, I love relationships between the clones and Jedi, it's probably my favorite dynamic in the whole franchise, regardless of whether it's platonic or romantic.
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dabivrse · 15 days
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scrap metal ♡ (frobin)
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genre: hurt/comfort
pairings: nico robin x franky
wc: 2.2k
cw: mental illness, depression, body dysmorphia, dysphoria (but like cyborg dysphoria), comfort, angst, fluff, suggestive references, self harm, franky feels less than human
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
I know x reader tends to do better on this app but I deeply adore frobin and I've always thought about the idea of franky struggling with his humanity. Its been a headcanon of mine since he was properly introduced.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Franky could never understand people who didn't have an inner monologue. His brilliant mind runs a hundred miles a minute; he's always got something to think about. He internally discusses future inventions and ship-building plans or sings to himself while he works. He spends most of his time thinking about his Nico Robin. He replays the day she said yes to being his partner in his head daily; he could spend hours thinking about her hair and smile. The mere thought of her tears fills Franky with a deep-seated rage. All she has to do is look at him, and he's on cloud nine.
Franky is in his development room, working on a new weapon design, when the door creaks open. He looks up to see Robin making her way over to where he's standing by his desk.
“Hello, pretty lady,” he says, his voice raising in volume as his mood picks up instantly upon seeing the woman he loves. Robin giggles at the affectionate term and stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss the underside of Franky's jaw.
“Hello, Honey.” One of Franky's large hands settles around her waist to keep her at his side. Thinking about Robin when she's not with him, his emotions run high, but when she's in his arms, he's completely relaxed and able to enjoy her company without wandering fears of losing her literally or figuratively. He leans down and pushes his face into her neck; the cold of his metal nose makes her flinch at first, but once she adjusts to the feeling, she threads a hand through his hair and lets out a happy sigh as Franky presses his lips to her skin. He's wary of how much bigger than Robin he is and hurting her is an unforgivable sin, so he's gentle with his affection. He might be gentle, but he's still a pervert, so when his palm opens up to reveal a smaller hand that dips into the waistband of Robin's skirt, she tugs his hair to get him to lean back and look her in the eyes. She presses a kiss to his lips, which he happily reciprocates. “As handsome and tempting as you are, you need to behave. Anybody could walk in.”
She's right - of course, she is - Usopp, Chopper and Nami are all frequent visitors to Franky's workshop. He nods at her words, flushing red at the compliments. The compliments he's used to refer exclusively to how cool and ‘inhuman’ he looks. People tell him how talented he is as a shipwright and inventor in general, but anything regarding his looks comes off more as someone talking about a suped-up car than a human being. It's the one thing he can't get used to in his relationship with Robin. He knows she's not lying to him and that she really does find him attractive, but he still can't grasp how different it feels to be desired. He's completely prideful and not at all shy when he's pleasing her. In the bedroom, he's fully confident, but something as sweet and innocent as a kiss on the cheek has him so shell-shocked that he can barely speak.
“So, how come my beautiful angel came to visit me?” Franky asks after clearing his throat and going back to staring at his blueprints. Robin cheerfully laughs at the pet name. Franky has asked her how she really felt about all his dramatic names for her, and she had told him that they make her feel special; she had also made a morbid comment under her breath about how they'd add to an emotional yet creative eulogy for her one day and Franky had pretended not to hear it.
“I wanted to make sure you're getting enough food and cola”, she smiles, kissing the left side of his chest. Robin places a plate of food down on the desk, and he guesses Sanji had dished up dinner and Franky had been so focused on his getting some work done that he hadn't heard the cooks call for food over his inner argument over what size gun to add to his robot. He thanks Robin and begins to eat. When he's finished with his food, Robin picks up the plate and leaves, promising him she'll visit later as she goes.
Franky is once again left alone with his thoughts.
As he's working, his reflection in a mirror leaning against the wall catches his eye and Franky flinches. Sometimes, he forgets what he looks like and seeing a huge cyborg as flashy as him is jarring. He has to remind himself he's not a little child anymore; he's something way cooler. He goes back to his work and tries to ignore the thoughts that begin to swarm him. His eyes keep getting drawn to the metal on his body. He recalls how earlier Robin had flinched at the cold metal of his nose and how difficult it is sometimes just to hold her without fear he'll hurt her. Sometimes, he thinks she would be better off with someone who can keep her warm at night, like Jinbe or maybe someone younger and more conventionally attractive, like Zoro or Law. Franky is a brash and loud man, but deep in the pits of his heart, there still lies the broken, abandoned kid. The feelings of worthlessness that took over his body as a child never truly left him; even after he tried over and over again to replace them with metal.
His smaller hands shake as he finishes his food and pushes his plate away. He tries to pick up his pen and write again, but he can't focus at all. His initial plans have taken a backseat to the unrelenting self-doubt that he tries to keep locked away behind his smile. He pushes on with his work, absent-mindedly scribbling down plans for a self-upgrade. He doesn't realise he's crying until the door handle clicks and snaps him back to his senses. Now he's acutely aware that he's crying and that one of his crewmates is about to see him. Franky's manly tears aren't unheard of, so he's able to play it off to usopp, who has come to ask about weapon materials, as simply inventing something so cool it's made him emotional. Usopp laughs, tells Franky he can't wait to see it and leaves after getting the advice he'd requested. The tears leave Franky feeling off-kilter for the rest of the day.
Later that night, Franky is entirely unable to sleep. He tries to focus on Robin, who's sleeping beside him and matches her breathing, but it doesn’t work. He shifts around to get comfortable and rests a large hand on Robin's waist, and then it all comes crashing down. That hand is not a human hand. When you press his metal nose, it changes his hair, and that's not human anatomy. His stomach has an empty chamber that uses cola as a fuel, and that's not human. He has weaponry built into his body, and that's not human. Franky is not human.
He makes a strangled noise as if he's gasping for air, and he scrambles to his feet. The noise wakes Robin, and she asks what's wrong, voice laced with concern. Franky doesn't notice she's awake, and he can't hear her question over the uncomfortable ringing in his ears. He makes his way out to the deck, ignoring the worried expressions of Nami and Usopp, who are still awake. He can't verbally describe how he feels, but he reaches to his shoulder, where metal meets skin, and begins to claw. His fingers dent the metal with force, and he only stops when a hand much larger than his covers his and stops his movements. He looks up and sees Robin has used her power. She leans down to where he's knelt on the deck and when she comes into view, Franky notices she has tears in his eyes. He can hear Nami crying behind him and sees Usopp shaking out of the corner of his eye. A new feeling stirs in his gut that makes him feel ten times worse.
He feels guilty for upsetting them. He apologises, but Robin shushes him, cradling his face in her hands. The gentle care with which she approaches him is enough to kick-start the waterworks and Franky is once again reduced to tears. He sobs so hard it causes a sharp pain in his chest. Robin shoos away the younger strawhats and promises to give them an update later. It's now just the two of them and Franky slumps forward, burying his face into Robin's shoulder. His tears haven't subsided, but he starts to apologise before he can stop himself. He repeats ‘I'm sorry’, and though Robin's skin muffles the sound, she can hear him fine and well.
“What are you apologising for, sweetheart? What's wrong?” asks Robin, wiping his tears with her thumbs, and she holds his face to look at her. Franky flounders for an answer, struggling to find his voice. Robin is patient as always and gives him a moment to collect himself.
He doesn't know what to say. How can he tell her he feels alien, like a passenger in his own body? That his ‘skin’ doesn't feel like it belongs on his body. He doesn't know how to explain how nauseous the sight of his own ‘body’ has been making him feel without sounding crazy. Robin is an understanding woman, but how much can she take?
“I feel more like a box of scrap metal than a human”, he says, cringing at how raspy and unsure his voice sounds. Robin remains silent, expression unchanging as she listens to his explanation. “I just wanted to get out of this ugly body. I didn't mean to scare you or the kids”, he says. He tries to avert his eyes despite Robin's hold on his face. He worries he's upset Robin further, but she leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead.
“First of all, I'm not scared of you, and neither are Nami and Usopp. We're just worried about you because we love you.” she says, moving a hand from his face to run it through his hair. “Secondly, your body is not ugly. You're my Franky and I like you just the way you are.” Her voice wraps around the violent words in his mind and strangles them out, easing his mind slightly. “I'm not going to pretend that I understand your pain, but I do know how it feels to be shunned, and I want you to know that will never happen to you here with us.”
Franky listens intently as Robin speaks. Her words don't take away his pain, but they at least calm him down. The strange, itchy feeling under his skin eases up and he relaxes in Robin's embrace. He kisses her neck and whispers a thank you in her ear. She's patient with him as he lets her comforting words repeat in his head. His tears have stopped, but there's still one question bothering him, and he's unsure if it's appropriate to ask right now. Sensing that he has something to say, Robin encourages him to speak up.
“Do you ever consider leaving me? Like don't you want someone more attractive like -” This time, instead of being patient and letting him finish, Robin cuts him off with a scoff, shuffling so she's sitting in his lap.
“You look at me right now, silly man,” she says, guiding him to look in her eyes. “I love you, I want you, I need you,” she says. Surprisingly, it's the word ‘want’ that gets him the most. It's not that Robin needs Franky around to fulfil some type of urge but simply that she wants to spend time with him. They like each other just as much as they love each other, and the reassurance makes Franky's stomach stir for an entirely different reason. “and there is no one as attractive as you. You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” she punctuates her sentence with a kiss to his lips. Franky feels much better now.
“What about Jinbe?” Franky asks to lighten the mood. It's common knowledge that Robin had a crush on Jinbe at first (so did Franky, but he'll never admit it)
“Hey! You like him too. We invited him into the bedroom once. You're my man forever,” she says, laughing into another kiss. They're sitting in silence for a while when Robin starts to yawn. “Now that you're feeling better. Do you want to go to bed?” she says, covering his cheeks in more kisses. Franky gets to his feet, scooping Robin up and carrying her off to bed
When Franky wakes up the following day, Robin is pressed up against his side and he feels at peace. As if she can sense him staring at her, Robin opens her eyes for a second, then smiles and goes back to sleep, snuggling further into his side. Franky feels content as he relaxes into the mattress. For now, his unsure feelings have subsided, and he feels more like himself. He knows they're likely to come again, but he also knows he'll have Robin and the rest of his family to help him.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
frobin is so cute to me so I just wanted to write a cute comfort oneshot about them 😭
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gffa · 6 months
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Do you know if the Jedi Temple had a Danger Room-style training facility which included realistic holograms of dangerous scenarios?
Hi! There are two things that come immediately to mind--different continuities, but with as scarce as Jedi Temple worldbuilding is, sometimes we gotta take what we can get where we can get it! 1. The Force Unleased (Legends canon) has a room that sends out training droids to fight in the middle of a large "Padawan Training Chamber". You can watch a walkthrough of this particular mission here (this specific part starts at about 3 minutes in), where there aren't any holograms being used but it's otherwise kinda a Danger Room-style training area.
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2. Obi-Wan & Anakin (Disney canon) has young Anakin training against a droid that he himself layered a hologram of Darth Maul over it in an open training area. Mace and Obi-Wan are surprised by this, Obi-Wan says he knew Anakin was working on something, but not quite this, which seems to imply that the Jedi don't really have Danger Room-style holograms used and this wasn't something they were used to seeing, if it was a surprise when Anakin created one.
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It's always possible that I'm missing something in a novel somewhere or a piece of Legends content I haven't read yet! But generally, what we see of Jedi training areas are focused on more simple sparring together in dojo-style areas (Rebels and Tales of the Jedi) or training remotes defended against with their lightsabers or bokken (wooden swords) for those not ready for lightsabers (Choose Your Destiny: An Obi-Wan & Anakin Adventure) or open air courtyard training (The Clone Wars). So, I would say, no, they don't have a Danger Room-style training area and probably didn't really see it as important to develop one, because they're more about training their connection to the Force, rather than pure physical skills, because they deliberately chose to limit themselves in their physical training and weapons:
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(Star Wars vol. 2 ongoing) Their bigger point of the Jedi's training philosophy was that they wanted to seek peace and forge a deeper connection with the Force, so that's what they'd focus more on, that their martial arts training was the real thing they wanted to focus on. However, the pieces are there for you to create one, if you want it! And this is my view of the Jedi (with evidence for why I think that way, of course) but there's nothing stopping you from saying, well, the Jedi would want to prepare for more dangerous situations.
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