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loveindefinitely · 6 months

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01 — 𝘎𝘖 𝘈𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘊𝘙𝘠, 𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘛𝘓𝘌 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓

༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, virgin reader, corruption kink, slight power imbalance, praise, degradation, light dom/sub, slight daddy kink, oral, vaginal sex, your father's a dick, very minor soapghost, aftercare

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

Stay in your room, your father had said. Don't bother us tonight, your father had said. They are dangerous men that do dangerous things, your father had said.

Yet, here you were, standing at the bottom step of the stairwell, hiding behind the wall adjoined to the living room, listening in to the men on the other side.

You were bored out of your brains. It was a Friday night, and like hell was your over-protective father going to let you go out or party. And the fact that he wouldn't even introduce you to his only friends? Or let you leave your fucking room?

It had left you pissed off to no end, so.

Here you were.

"Bloody close," you hear a voice grunt, deep and gravelly. It sends heat to your stomach immediately, and it's almost embarrassing.

You hear the sound of a hand slapping a shoulder, and the bark of a laugh. "Aye, still got the cash you're gonna owe me?" This voice has a -- Irish? Scottish, maybe? -- lilt to it, humour and kindness embedded into its layers.

"He'll find a way outta paying," a third voice chimes, laughter in its tone.

Someone else clears their throat. "You're all gonna get yourselves indebted to each other at this rate," a fourth voice says, sounding almost resigned.

"You all need to shut the fuck up before she sticks her nose down 'ere."

Your spine straightens, and fury simmers in your blood. Did he have to be such an asshole? Why was your father so... so anti your existence? Why was he so ashamed of you, yet so overbeating?

"She's not a kid anymore, you really oughtta to lay off," the man with the scottish accent says, slightly stern in his delivery.

"If you met her, you'd understand how fuckin' annoying she is. Always wants me to deal with her emotions, as if they're my fuckin' problem," your father replies venomously. Your stomach has dropped to your feet, you're sure of it.

There's a low whistle in response, and a silence settles behind the wall. An unsettling one, full of animosity. The fact that you can tell that from behind the wall says a lot.

"I'm gonna go out and get some drinks. Maybe some dinner. Needa get out of this fuckin' house for a bit," your father says with a grunt, sounding like he's gotten up from the couch. "Call if you lot need anythin' while I'm out."

A few grunts of agreement, and after a few seconds, the front door opens and slams shut.

You let out a small breath of tense relief, eyes fluttering shut as you deeply exhale. The immediate relief of having your father out of the house is immense.

"I feel bad for her," you hear the third man speak, voice quiet and low. "You hear how he speaks about her -- what's he like with her?"

"Gaz, whatever you're thinkin', drop it," the first speaker grits out, impatient and tight.

"He's right," the scottish one says with a huff, "Poor kid. She's legal and he isn't letting her out on a Friday night? 'Nd he fuckin' wonders why she's upset."

"He must have his... reasons," the fatherly voice of the fourth speaker says, although his tone says otherwise.

You swallow, slowly creeping off of the bottom step and onto the wooden floors. Front pressed to the wall, you move just the slightest bit, to allow yourself a small peak into the loungeroom.

There are four men, like you'd expected, and they're...

They're big. There's no other word that comes to mind, except for big. Tall, broad, packed with muscle. Military-grade men.

Your mouth is suddenly parched of any moisture, and your brain turns to putty.

Selfishly, stupidly, you spend another dangerous moment to admire the four. The couch curves, the four of them seated on it, facing the TV hung on the wall. They're backs are to you.

Or.

One second, they're all blissfully turned the other way, and in the next, one's head turns, and deep brown eyes meet yours.

Your eyes go wide, and you immediately dart for the stairs, heart in your throat.

Rushing up, trying to stay quiet but still hurrying, you make it to your room in record time. You shut the door behind you, chest tight and breaths harried as your back presses to the wood.

Stupid, stupid girl, you think.

They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.

That's what your father had said, wasn't it? So what were you thinking, risking a look? For what purpose?

Then, there's a knock on your door.

Your eyes go impossibly wide, and your lips purse together as you slowly move away from the door. With one breath, you train your face into a pleasant, kind smile as you slowly open the door, only allowing a bit of your room to be shown.

"You're his daughter, ain't ya?"

You have to crane your neck, eyes going up, and up, and up, until you meet the man's eyes.

The skull balaclava shouldn't cause your face to heat, or your breaths to quicken, but they do.

"I -- um, yes, I'm really sorry for eavesdropping," you mumble, eyes flitting to the floor and hand squeezing the door in an anxious gesture.

A hand grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the man's chocolate eyes once more. They're imploring, impossibly so, and your thighs squeeze together against your better judgement.

"Come watch the game with us," he says, and although the sentence isn't a demand, it feels like one.

So, like the good girl you are, you nod, his grip loosening as you do.

You forget that you're in your tiniest sleep shorts and your thinnest tank top as you follow him down the stairs, his large hand resting on your lower back.

This was the most touch you'd ever felt from a man that wasn't in a familial way, and your nerve-endings feel like they've been electrocuted.

Whatever conversation that was happening silences as soon as the two of you walk into the lounge room, your hands squeezing each other painfully tight.

Your anxiety was warranted in this situation, wasn't it? Surely, it was okay to be scared of four men whom you'd never met.

Four sets of eyes are trained to your body, and there's a slight tremble in your hands as you sit in the spot balaclava had gestured towards.

It seats you in the middle of the four of them, and your heart beats impossibly faster as you settle into the leather, feeling so small in comparison to the men surrounding you.

It's a new, albeit not entirely terrible, feeling.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The man furthest to your left asks, and when you meet his eyes, they're warm and kind. His lower face is mostly covered in a beard, and he's wearing a light brown hat.

You bite at your inner cheek, gaze flicking back to your thighs as you weakly say your name.

Their gazes burn your skin, like a living force, and your hands form nervous fists in your lap. The warm yellow light of the living room lamp creates a warm, safe ambience that doesn't exactly fit the emotions swirling inside of you.

You flinch only slightly when a warm hand moves to rest on your knee, the thumb rubbing comforting circles on it that ease your tight muscles slightly.

When you look to the owner of the hand, it's to see a warm grin and a faux mohawk.

"You're so tense, lass," he says, his mouth quirking into a knowing smirk. "We don't bite."

"Don't speak for all of us, Soap," the man sitting on your close left says with a charming grin, his eyes meeting yours when you turn to him. "I'll ask nicely, love, don't worry."

You nod, slowly, in some sort of trance. This entire situation doesn't feel entirely real, more like a figment of your deepest desires.

Ones you've never let yourself think about, except for the darkest of nights and the dirtiest of feelings.

"Don't scare the girl," the man with the balaclava says, eyes narrowing on the two men beside you.

"Says the one with the fuckin' mask, ya weirdo," the scottish one says with a scoff of a chuckle. Your mouth pulls into a soft grin without you realising, and the hand on your knee tightens ever so slightly.

"I'm Price," the man who you've deemed the most sensible of the group says with a warm smile. His head gestures to each of the other three men respectively. "That's Gaz, Soap, and Ghost."

You can't say that you're all too familiar with the names, nor how...different they are, but you nod nonetheless, reserving the names in your memory.

"Father dearest never talked about us?" Gaz asks, eyebrows softly furrowing in question.

You shake your head, almost apologetic in the movement. "He doesn't like to tell me much, he's, ah... private."

There's a few returning grunts of understanding, and they settle your nerves just a little bit more. For men of their size, they were surprisingly good at keeping you feeling safe and comfortable.

"What're you doin' all alone on a Friday night? Pretty young thing like you, 'nd you're not at a club? A date?" Soap asks, and if you notice that he's moved just the slightest bit closer to you, you don't say a word.

You feel your face heat, and you murmur out your reply. "Never been to either," you admit, pulling at a thread in your sleep shorts with nervous jerks.

Ghost settles further into his chair, legs spread in an almost dominant way. "Surely you've at least had your first kiss?"

If you could get anymore embarrassed, you're sure you'll combust on the spot.

You softly shake your head.

"Aw, love, you're adorable," Gaz says, a hint of a smirk on his features. His dark eyes glimmer in the light, and you lick your bottom lip to wet it.

Price's arms rest on his knees, and his eyes seem trained on you, debating some sort of inner conflict, before they firm with some kind of resolution. "Y'know, we've been training rookies lately," he states, but with a knowing undertone that everyone in the room seems to pick up on except for you.

"That we have," Ghost says, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he nods in agreement with Price.

"How about we train you, bonnie?" Soap asks, his hand moving just the slightest bit higher on your thigh.

You swallow, mouth dry.

"Um. Like, train me... how?" You ask, although there's some part of your brain that knows all too well what area they're thinking of.

Gaz's hand moves to sit at the nape of your neck, stroking in soothing movements that leave your eyes half-closed and glassy. "How about I show you how to kiss, love?"

Your stomach hollows, and your chest rises and falls in heavy beats. Nervously looking around the room, you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod shortly.

Soap's hand tightens around your thigh, a barely hidden warning. "Words, baby, or you're goin' back to your room."

The threat instantly has words flying out of your mouth. "Yes. Please. Just... be gentle?"

All four men seem to huff a laugh at that, but Gaz nods, dimples showing as his smirk deepens. "I can do that."

He pulls you in, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours.

The feeling leaves you entirely dazed, your nervous system alighting with signals as your thoughts seem to pause, if only for a second. It's nothing like you'd expected, and butterflies erupt in your lower stomach.

He pulls away, not having breached your mouth, and you must look as out of it as you feel because he laughs.

"That good, love?" He asks, teasing and entirely prideful.

You nod, a bit too fast and enthusiastic, before his hand pulls away from your nape. The loss is mourned, briefly, before your attention pulls away from Gaz and instead to Soap.

"Gotta learn from all of us," is all he says, before his lips crush against your own. Where Gaz was tentative and soft, Soap is all energy and desperation.

His hand squeezes your thigh, and when it had moved from your knee to pushing against your tiny shorts, you haven't an idea.

You can't find it in yourself to care, with his relentless attack on your mouth, your lips, your mind.

When he pulls away, you realise it's because Ghost's moved to stand, and his hand is in a tight fist in Soap's hair, pulling his face away from yours.

"Actin' like a fuckin' mutt," Ghost mutters, tone laced with vitriol. It's degrading, and yet Soap doesn't seem phased in the slightest.

You're about to inquire about that when your attention's caught by Price, his knees spread and patting his thigh. "C'mere, sweetheart," he says, and like a dog on a leash, you do.

His unbelievably large hands grab your hips as he seats you in his lap, and with how he's got his legs spread, it forces you to sit over his groin.

It's a compromising position, and the heat that rushes to your core is an entirely unknown feeling.

He doesn't move his hands from your body as his eyes devour it, before they meet your gaze with a warmth to them that has you shivering.

"Show me what the boys have taught you, hm?" He says, and with shut eyes and a stiff movement, you press your lips to his.

He groans, pleased, his thumbs rubbing circles where your skin's been revealed by your tank top. No one's ever touched you there, not in this way, and it has your pussy wet.

When he pulls away, he licks at his lips, as if he's devouring your taste.

"You're so pretty, sweetheart, mm? No wonder your father's got you all locked up," he says, and the reminder of the source of your anger has you wanting to do entirely too reckless things.

Like kissing the four men he warned you about.

Like doing more, maybe.

...Maybe.

His hands force your hips down, and you let out a small whimper when your clit presses against his belt buckle, the action sending pleasure shooting up your spine.

He raises a brow, catching the change in expression and your small sound. "What's wrong, pretty?"

And then, he pulls you down again, deeper this time, and the movement has your breath hitching, core burning with need.

"Oh, you naughty little girl," he says, and the words have your mind turning into some sort of mouldable clay, entirely able to be controlled by whatever these men wanted to make of it. "So needy, ain't ya?"

Someone presses against you from behind, and a belt buckle presses against your lower back.

"My turn to feel those lips, innit?" Ghost says from behind, leaning down to whisper his next words next to your ear. "See what all the fuss 's about."

The idea that you're being passed around, like you're some kind of... of whore has you entirely speechless in the most positive of ways.

You feel filthy, and you love it.

Leaning your head back, you manage to make eye contact with the large man, before his lips press to yours, upside down.

He devours, all encompassing, his tongue slipping into yours without any hesitance. You're clumsy, unsure, but he makes up for it with experience and dominance. The entire act has you woozy, needy for more of them, more of their touch.

You don't expect for Price to start forcibly rotating your hips, forcing you to grind against his lap, but it forces a moan from your mouth, the sound getting devoured by Ghost's overpowering tongue.

"Who knew she'd be such a desperate slut?" Gaz asks, as if you're not there, as if you're just something to be observed. It causes another moan to leave your mouth, and Ghost detaches himself from you with a grunt of his own.

"Think she liked that," Soap says, amused and proud, in a strange sort of way. "Wanna be used, baby? Taken by men nearly twice your age?"

"Yes," you say, on a groan as Price's motions speed up, the pleasure so new and different and good.

Then, he stops, and a whine comes out of you before you can stop it.

Price makes a condescending noise in response. "Poor babygirl needs all the attention, hey? Needs her little pussy played with?"

"She looks like a goddamn mess, cap," Gaz says, his hand coming up to rest on your head. He gives comforting pats, not unlike one would with an obedient puppy.

Ghost's hands come around your waist, and before you even process what he's doing, he rips your sleep shorts in half, leaving you completely bare.

"Didn't think to wear panties, dumb girl?" Ghost asks with an appreciative groan, his large hand cupping your now exposed pussy.

With a whimper, you shake your head, your eyes squeezed shut at the embarrassment and nudity. No one had ever seen it before, and now, four of your father's friends were getting an eyeful.

"Lemme see if she's nice 'n wet for us," Soap murmurs, picking you up from Price's lap in a princess carry.

It doesn't even last two seconds before he's splaying you over the now empty couch, your hands pathetically covering your most private of areas.

"None of that, sweetheart," Price says with a 'tsk', grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to the couch above your head, leaving you effectively defenceless to the men.

Soap's hand moves down your stomach, before he pauses for just a moment. "This okay, baby?"

You nod, because yes, this is most definitely okay.

Gaz gives you a stern look, so you quickly fix your mistake. "I -- yes, sir, it's okay."

There's a surrounding sound of approval, and Soap smirks from where he stands beside your hips. "Sir, aye? Like the sound of that."

With that, his finger slides down your pussy, and your eyes shut with a soft moan. His hands are rough, scarred, calloused from years of work on the field, and they're so much larger than your own.

"Think she likes it, sir," Ghost says, taunting Soap, whose eyes are completely transfixed on your glistening pussy.

"Not the only one," Price says with an approving murmur, his hand tightening around your wrists. The sense of powerlessness has you aching with desire.

Soap's finger continues to rub against your slit, not breaching your entrance, instead continuing to tease and amplify his touch. Your eyes are shut, too embarrassed to look at the mess you're likely causing on the fabric, and too nervous to see the expression on the men's faces.

"Do you play with your lil cunt often, princess?" Ghost says, voice darkened with lust.

Your face feels like it's burning, but you nod. "Sometimes. I -- ah," you break off with a moan as Soap's thumb presses against your swollen clit.

"Be a good girl and answer when spoken to, love," Gaz says with a sound of disappointment that has you aching to amend your mistake.

"I'm sorry, sir, I, yes. Sometimes 'm just needing to, um, y'know..." You trail off, trying to preserve any amounts of dignity you had left. You were aware that masturbation was normal, but you'd never discussed it with a single soul, and talking about it felt like laying your soul bare.

Price's other hand moves to gently brush your hair from your face, the gesture so at odds with Soap's sensual movements.

You're about to say something, what, you aren't exactly sure, when Soap's finger roughly enters your soaked pussy. A loud whimper escapes your lips at the sudden intrusion, and the sheer size difference of his finger compared to your own.

"Aww, baby, it's alright," Soap coos, and it's so fucking condescending. It's cruel, almost, as if you're so dumb that you can't even form your own thoughts.

Which is, honestly, more true than you're willing to admit.

"'Atta girl," Ghost groans when your whimpers only increase with every thrust of Soap's finger.

Gaz's hand moves down to replace Soap's thumb on your clit, using the pads of his fingers to roughly circle around it. That sensation, mixed with Soap's intrusion, has your back arching slightly from the couch.

"Think she's close, Cap," Gaz says, conversationally, again treating you like you're not entirely capable of voicing your own feelings or thoughts.

"Mm, that right, sweetheart? Close already?" Price echoes, the hand not around your wrists going to squish your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker. "What a pathetic girl, hm?"

Those words, those demeaning, humiliating words, only stoke the fire in your stomach, and your eyes burn with unshed tears as you shakily nod.

As soon as you do, however, Gaz pulls away, and Soap's finger leaves your pussy entirely. You groan, eyes opening slightly to see what could've possibly caused them to stop.

"You look so upset, baby," Soap laughs, and his smile is no longer the jovial one it had been mere minutes before -- no, it's been replaced with something much more predatory, something much more dangerous.

Dangerous men.

Ghost moves, then, moving your legs with much more care than you'd expected from the large man, before moving to kneel at the end of the couch where your legs had been. Hooking your knees over his shoulder, he effectively folds you in half.

"W-what are you doing?" You ask, almost frantic, utterly confused at your current state.

He leans down, hooking his balaclava over the tip of his nose, before there's searing wet heat at your core, causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan.

Gaz chuckles, "So dirty, love. Like having the big bad Ghost with his head between your legs, huh? Like having the attention of men with blood on their hands?"

Oh, and the confirmation -- the proper, hard proof, that they killed, that they truly were as dangerous as your father had said --

"Yes, fuck, please, oh my god," you ramble, almost incoherent with your words as you body trembles with the feeling of a mouth at your pussy. "Jesus, don't stop."

You can hear laughter around you, some words being passed between the men, but your focus is entirely on the tongue dipping into your folds, licking at your essence like a man starved. Like you're his only salvation.

Soap's hand is in Ghost's hair, a complete parallel to the kiss the two of you had shared, and he's pushing Ghost further against you, manhandling him like a toy for you to grind against, for you to take advantage of.

"I'm gonna, oh, please, I'm close," you cry out, eyes squeezed shut yet again as Ghost's ministrations only double in enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over his face? Go on, ride it, there we go," Price eggs you on, his hand patting down your hair, massaging at your scalp as you lose yourself to the pleasure of it all.

You cum with a desperate keen, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you ride out the high, embracing this moment for the beauty it is.

It doesn't hit you, not at first, the full extent of your actions.

Ghost pulls away after your whimpers turn into ones of overstimulation, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, your twitching pussy, and then your inner knee as he carefully sets your legs back down on the couch.

"Such a good girl, aye?" Soap asks, rubbing at your tense calves with expert strokes and pressure. "Did so well for us, darlin'."

Your head feels like it's been filled with cotton, and your mouth is in a similar state as you nod dazedly.

You're not sure when, but at some point, Price gently moves you to lay your back against the cushion of the couch. "Need you to drink something for us, sweetheart, okay?"

Gods, this part? Them treating you like a princess, like you're something worthy of taking care of, it's almost as good as the orgasm they'd given you.

Gaz comes into view with a glass of water, and when he gently moves your chin to open your mouth, you let him pour it down your throat.

It feels almost like you're entirely too weak to do anything by yourself, like your ability to function has been completely removed by these men. It's intoxicating, the kind of feeling that could be as addictive as the most threatening of drugs.

The water slides down your throat, and it's as if it cools you from the inside out, your heartbeat slowly coming down from the quickened pace it was previously at.

Price picks you up, cradling your head to his chest as he sits down, the other three settling down on the couch as well. Gaz, sitting beside Price, moves your legs to sit over his lap, your feet in Soap's. Ghost sits to Soap's left, his eyes focused on you as you get comfortable, burrowing your head closer to Price.

If you could stay in this moment forever, you think that you'll be a very happy woman.

Closing your eyes, you drift into a space between sleep and awareness, and when they flutter open again, you realise that your previously exposed pussy and legs are now hidden by your sweatpants that had been laid on your bed, ready to be put away.

Price's hand is in your hair, softly playing with the strands. His hand encompasses your entire scalp, almost, and if you weren't completely exhausted, that fact alone would have you ready to get on your knees.

"What're we gonna do?" Gaz whispers, and you realise with a start that they must all think you're still dozing. "I mean, we seriously fucked this up."

"Not yet we haven't," Ghost interrupts, voice still gravelly and low, but with a hint of warmth. "This doesn't change anything."

"This changes everything!" Soap hisses back, incredulous, his hands stilling from where they were rubbing into your feet with practiced movements. Were they all trained masseuses, or something?

No. Trained killers, your mind unhelpfully supplies, and a chill runs down your spine.

Oh god. Oh god. What had you done? Seriously, what the actual fuck had you done? You just.

You just lost your virginity to four of your father's very lethal, very dangerous friends. Friends who are nearly twice your age, at that.

Oh. God.

"Laswell will be expecting correspondence by three," Price mutters in a voice akin to a whisper. "You boys know what we have to do."

What? What were they talking about? Who was Laswell? What did they have to do by three?

Your mind whirrs, like a hamster in a wheel, before the sound of keys jingling on the other side of your front door has your entire body freezing.

Oh god.

Oh. God.

"Shit," Gaz grumbles, and between one thought and the next, you've been bundled up into a warm chest, the movement fluid and shockingly quick. A hand at the base of skull softly pushes your head against a warm neck, and your legs hang over a muscled arm. "I'll take her upstairs. Be quiet and quick."

There's murmurs too quiet between the other three as you're taken up the stairs, two steps at a time, by the man whose fingers had been on your pussy, at most, only an hour ago.

You're aware that you've been taken to your room when the door clicks behind you, the familiar path to it engrained in your memory, even with your eyes closed and in someone else's arms.

The smell of vanilla and caramel is a comforting and familiar one, and you realise that you'd left your candle burning all night.

It's really the least of your worries, but that thought manages to snag at your conscious like an annoying fly.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Gaz whispers, gently laying you down underneath your bedsheets, before pulling them up and over your lazed form. "I'll try my best to talk some sense into 'em."

You're not sure what he could possible mean -- what the fuck was even happening, what your life was even becoming, but his words are nothing if not sincere.

His tone is almost... apologetic, in a way, and you reserve that thought for later. When you're not pretending to be awake, when you're still not slightly out of it from your first orgasm caused by someone else, when you're not in the middle of the worst moral conflict of your life.

Your window's slightly open, allowing a soft breeze to brush over your still slightly heated skin as Gaz presses a soft kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back.

"Get off me!"

Your father. That's your father's voice, and it sounds panicked, angry -- not unusual, but still, the cause of it was nearly always you.

And those specific words, what --

"Y'know, Laswell found out somethin' pretty interestin' the other day," a voice that you recognise as Ghost's says, tone mocking interest.

Gaz moves away from you, before going to the window and looking out at whatever scene is happening down there. Somehow, he hasn't realised you're not asleep -- you'd kept your breathing pattern the same as it usually was when you're asleep, some youtube video you'd watched months ago finally coming in handy.

You can hear them all clear as day through the small opening of the window, and Gaz can too.

"Aye. Somethin' 'bout some info bein' leaked," Soap continues Ghost's train of thought, and you're so lost it's almost pathetic.

But, you continue to listen, desperate for any source of understanding for whatever the fuck was happening down there.

"You can't possibly think it was me!" Your father yells, his voice full of venom and rage. To have it not be directed at you is a rare moment, and you allow yourself a small breath of reprieve.

"We know it was you," Price says, before sighing loud enough for it to be heard from your room. "The way you spoke about that kid of yours was enough to cement the idea."

"She's a fuckin' waste of space, and where do you get off on caring how I treat my kid? Has nothin' to do with the job!"

Those words hurt. Like an actual, physical wound, almost.

Gaz swears under his breath, and you can feel the tension ooze out of him like a wave. It's... oddly comforting.

There's the sound of a fist hitting a jaw, and it takes everything in you not to race to the window and look at what's going on yourself.

"Jesus fucking christ!" Your father hisses, and you put two and two together. One of the three men down there had punched him -- if you had to take a guess, it was Ghost.

"You've never been one of us, and you'll never be one of us. You sellin' us out was the last straw, mate," Soap snarls. You can hear him spit on the ground, before another sound of fists flying makes your heart race.

There's a moment of silence, until two things happen in the span of five seconds.

First, your father screams, "Please! Don't --"

And then...

A bullet.

The sound of a trigger being pulled.

The sound of a bullet ringing through the air.

The sound of a final breath.

Your eyes fly wide, and you immediately stumble out of bed.

Gaz's gaze meets yours, and there's nothing but apology in them. No guilt, just apology.

He doesn't stop you from looking out the window, where your father's body lays in the grass, blood leaking from the wound now sitting between his eyes.

And when you turn to him, he doesn't stop you as you land a punch to his jaw.

a/n. CROSS-POSTED TO AO3 ummm so did i PLAN for this to become an actual fic? no. not in the slightest. but i was writing the fingering bit and was like. what if her dad died? and there's an actual plot? so uhhh here we are! anyways hope yall enjoyedddd if u guys know me u know polyamory is my SHIT so there will very likely be more poly!tf141 x reader to come. ty for reading mwah mwah mwah

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emdeerm · 5 months

Text

I'm a Grandpa? Again?!

My brain got away from me. srry

This might be a horrible, horrible idea that will have so many butterfly and directs effects on the DC canon that I know nothing about but...

Consider this: Bruce is Danny's clone/test-tube baby.

Danny has lived for many, many years and somewhere along the lines, he got his DNA stolen again (in his human form mind you) by someone and they made a clone/baby (most likely cause the child would destabilise without more DNA. Human Danny is just 1/3 of the DNA he has). Maybe the League and Ra's is responsible. Maybe some other party I have no knowledge about. Maybe it was GIW. But it happens.

Anyway, whoever succeeded, had some intentions with the clone if it had powers. He did not. Was a failure and was dumped as a 3yo in Gotham. Tom and Martha Wayne found him and adopted the child.

Now, Danny doesn't know it. He just goes around, living his best life with his partner/(s), works somewhere new every 5-6 years or so, trying out new professions when he wants. When his DNA got yonked, he was a practicing cook. By the time Batman is old enough with all his kids he is a doctor or something.

Let's throw in the Ghost King for fun. Love the trope. Could be just him being a super strong and respected Ghost in the Realms who helps himself to Pariah's treasury. Not like the guy needed it anyway.

So, YEARS pass. All parties are unaware. Meta human protection happens. Ecto Acts get ruled out automatically by the Government somewhere in a list of all stuff that change. The Ghosts haven't been sighted for over 30 years. The Government disbanded GIW wven esrlier just cause they were a moneh draining leach. The JL didn't even pay that much attention honestly (let's say Batman wasn't there for some reason to check the final copy), just one more thing that changed for the better in their eyes.

So, Danny and his kind are now legally in the clear. Does he so something with it? Well, not much. Just uses his powers more freely. His rogues don't find the Living Realm all that interesting now and just come to Phantom to play. Except Sculker. That ass is still unbearable.

...

I got sidetracked from my original idea. Anyway-

...

Damian in school has to do the ancestory assignment. And finds out that he has a weird relation to this Random DudeTM. (Maybe Tom's and Martha's DNA was indeed used in the process of creation. Who knows, maybe it was their doing all along in the name of Doctor Science. Idk. All options are fun) Came out of nowhere. The relation is unclear too.

That gets brought up to Father. Father is surprised. Investigation happens.

The Bats are flabbergasted by the results.

Danny gets the news that he is a surprise Granpa again (Dani was the first one to come with a grandchild out of nowhere. Adopted. You know what? Let it be Cass. Let her have a traveling super mom).

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evilminji · 9 months

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Okay... so it COULD be because, as a writer, I'm an ASSHOLE to my Characters...

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE FUNNY?

Danny, innocent, gets YEETED into DC. As ya do. And he's a bit messed up. But! He's a Baby Ancient in the making. Gonna be master of Spaaaaaace(~~~☆!) one day. Very exciting, only slightly relevant.

See, Ectoplasm? Dumb. That's why we need Cores and Brains etc. Never let Ectoplasm decide things. It WILL chose the "technically correct but now the buildings on fire" option EVERY SINGLE TIME. And you are running out of fire extinguishers.

Because it is dumb.

Very, VERY No Brain, Just Goo, Dumb.

And THIS Goo has a life to save. A Halfa too maintain in Peak Performance(tm). Because THIS Goo is VERY smart Goo(according only to itself) and TOTALLY knows what it's doing! Damaged meat bits? Oh that's EASY! You just FIX that! Replace with meat bits! See? It's BRILLIANT Goo. 10 out of 10 stars, me!

Small problem.

The instructions have been damaged.

PANIC.

Wait! No! We got this! We are Very Smart Goo(tm). And have Space Powers. This is FINE. We'll... we'll just FIX the instructions! Hand me a hammer! If we smash enough bits together, it'll sort? Of look right? Close ENOUGH? Yeeeeeah. We're GENIUS Goo~

Use THAT!

But where did they GET their ill begotten DNA? Well OBVIOUSLY the place all the OTHER DNA they had was stored, DUH? Keep up, says the Goo with literally no braincells making horrifying choices for an unconscious man. It's Earth.

As in... the planet.

It's not even HIS planet. It's AN Earth. A Planet CALLED "Earth" that dwells in the DC universe, not his, and is covered with ZERO(0) Fentons but plenty of superhumans and aliens. THAT planet.

The Goo grabbed the Very BESTEST Meat Instructions it could FIND! The Goo is also a collective and did not AGREE on what the "Best" WAS. But it's... okay, no, I can't lie to you, it is NOT fine.

But thankfully it IS stable.

Because Ectoplasm may be dumb and indiscriminate as super-bacteria with a flamethrower, but it is a MASTER at the jigsaw of Life. It can reanimate ANYTHING.

Including the now SINGLE MOST CHIMERAD MAN you've ever SEEN. Who is he related too? YES. His left knee is Kryptonian, the fingers on his right hand are Tameranian, his skin tone has shifted to the most ambiguously multi-ethnic tone imaginable (think that future of humanity mock up, where they combine every ethnicity on the premise that inter-racial marriage will becoming increasingly common up to the point where we all just kinda look averaged out thanks to the ease of travel) because it's trying to do all of them at once and none of them are willing to back down, because all of them got the instructions "Be Skin". He might have Slade Wilson's cheek bones and hair.

Danny wakes up and basicly is half Ectoplasmic Goo, half the extended Super Community.

AND CANT GET BACK HOME TO FIX IT.

Because of course this IS fixable. It's just medical shape-shifting. But without HIS template, undamaged. His body is REFUSING to change from what is OBVIOUSLY the CORRECT form. And he keeps getting clocked as "probably related to me".

With the Fenton Luck kicking in? The parts of him people manage to swab and/or get DNA from? Keep MATCHING them. Danny doesn't know WHO is behind this but-! *spots a giggle child with a cat* !!!!!!

You.

Klarion you little SHIT!

So now he's wearing a face that's BARELY his, running from very determined superhumans who want to parent him, trying to steal enough technology to build a portal. AND vowing to kick the witch boy's ASS.

This ISNT FUNNY, KLARION.

His body is Frankenstein's FEVER DREAM! Every time he gets hurt, it tries to "FIX" itself! He lost a chunk of his should back there and HIS ENTIRE BODY CHANGED SKIN TONES. He's pretty sure if he SITS funny, his teeth might fall out and regrow POINTY! He's handing you over to WALKER you horrible little gremlin child!

Just? Take the "Danny is related to X" and "Danny is sick" and turn them uuuuup. Make EVERYBODY concerned except Danny. This is just another fucked up adventure in a long string of fucked up adventures. Give him his DNA back. If he has to suffer the Fenton Luck then he should AT LEAST get to keep the Fenton "built like a tank"!

*gets hit again*

*is GREEN now for some reason* The fuck?

Garfield, aka Beast Boy: I HAVE A CLONE SON!?

Danny: Zone DAMN IT not another one!

@ailithnight @hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

#tw body horror #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #never let the Goo drive #chimera au #Danny looks A BIT like everyone #just enough to be suspicious #chaos happens and klarion laughs

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itshype · 1 year

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Like and Survive! (DC x DP)

Everyone knows who Phantom is. He was one of the very first heroes though he inexplicably chose to dedicate his life (metaphorically) to micromanaging the hell out of some random town no one has ever heard of. He's a specialist hero, only really useful for ghost stuff. He comes every time someone contacts him for help but it's only happened a few times in all of his years of operation.

Then, kid heroes become a thing. Robin, once perpetually hidden beneath the shadow of the bat emerges into the metropolis sun just in time to make the front page.

When Batman's child-raising skills are called into question, Kid Flash is brought out at a press release by Flash to show that these exceptional children are around. They just aren't common knowledge for their own health (aside from the villains - being a child star wrecks your brain).

A few villains do come forward and say "no, the sidekicks will go out on their own if their hero doesn't let them. And they have all the powers and none of the restraint. Please don't separate them."

(Batman and Robin are both very flattered that all their rogues think they have powers. Robin is ✨glowing✨ with pride.)

Cyborg calls Robin at 3am. He asks if he's seen the new 'BooTube' page.

Phantom has set up his own website. It's a dark and moody ripoff of YouTube with 1 channel. His.

Introduction Video: Transcript Hi guys, I can't lie to you, I was as up-in-arms as anyone when I saw what people are now calling "The Robin Reveal". But then I remembered that I started my hero work when I was mentally and physically fourteen years old...

Danny doesn't mention he was also chronologically 14 at the time. Secret identities and all.

...and I had no mentor, no training and no backup. It was just me and two humans, neither of whom even had powers at that time. I understand the call, in a way that none of the non-hero people criticising you could ever hope to comprehend. I'm glad to see most of you fellow child-heroes have an experienced adult watching your back. But if you don't. If there's even one of you out there who need a mentor, consider Amity Park open for business, and consider adding my number to your speedial. I'm not like those people in interviews saying "Oh, someone needs to help the children!" I am helping you, I am helping you whenever you need with whatever you want.

The ghost swallows and seemingly forces down his brimming sincerity.

And for those of you who do already have backup? Consider checking back here. I'm going over my old reports from my first few years on the streets to see what I most needed to hear, and what I wished I knew sooner. Hopefully no one else will have to learn what I know the hard way.

You know how to fight, this channel won't be for that. This is about coping with secret identities, and the messed up situations that can only happen to a vigilante or hero.

Anyways, the first video is already ready to be edited so in a few days I'll be back here to discuss what you do when you've been cloned. How to deal with that emotionally and physically. My clone isn't very well known outside of my town but I think she'll add a great perspective!

Within weeks, without his knowledge, Danny is somehow remote-mentoring heroes of all ages.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #mine #notfic #danny phantom #danny fenton #teen titans #titans #dc comics #justice league

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yanderefarm · 2 months

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priest!vox x male!reader

cw; religious imagery, belly bulging, impact play,

a/n; this is so fuckin messy im so sorry i was possessed by this au idea. happy easter. ill try to work on requests tonight

in life vox was a televangelist who stole money from dying people to pay for private jets. and in death he's a demon with a tv on his head and the conviction to convert. every converted soul belongs to him, every soul a stepping stone as he climbs to the top. not much has changed.

well. until you walked into his life.

if the demon wants to preach then he needs something to worship. it doesn't matter how you got his soul but it belongs to you. he doesn't hate it too much except for when he does because you let him keep the facade of power. he can be the big tv man all he wants. in the end he belongs to you.

in the end he crawls on his knees before you every night. he says sweet begrudging praises as you grind your foot on his thigh. you drag his leash until he's sat between your legs and you tell him to pray.

his mouth so clumsily goes up your thigh before you have him gratefully kissing your thick cock. and before he knows it he's static and buzzing as you fuck his throat. his own cock is hard underneath his suit and perfect for you to grind your foot on until hes begging to cum.

once you've fucked his throat til he's dizzy the real fun starts. you take your time gingerly removing his clothes before you order he do the same. every article of clothing he slides off your body is followed by static-y kisses and gently worshipping touches. he helps you step out of your pants and begins slowly tracing his fingers up your legs before you give a harsh tug on his leash.

"what's that for-" he starts to growl but when he looks up into your sharp eyes he silences himself.

"Look at me, Vox." You command him in a voice that sends shivers up his spine. You grab his chin with one hand and examine him carefully, watching as his eyes follow you with rapt intensity.

"Tell me who you belong to." You order and he lets out a shakey breath before he repeats your name back to you.

"Tell me who you worship." You move your bodies closer until your considerable height is looming over him. Again he says your name with a shakey voice.

"Who is your god?" Your grip on his chin tightens hard enough to crack his screen. He yelps before he declares your name as firmly as he can.

You shove him to the bed and climb over his slim and small body. It's so easy to hold his arms above his head. It's so easy to treat his body like a toy. His lanky limbs move over your shoulders as you line your girthy cock with his already stretched hole. Your repeated nights of "worship" have stretched him out to perfectly fit your cock. You slide into him watching his face glitch as you press against his sweet spot.

"Do you want to go to heaven Voxxy?" You coo so sweetly as if it's a gentle promise.

"Please- Please please please-" Already he's begging for you. He craves the salvation only you can give him.

And with his pleading you drag your cock out of his needy hole. And then you slam your cock back in, drilling into him. Your large hands grab his thin wrists as you begin a steady and brutal pace, you use his arms as leverage to dig your cock deeper. You can both see the outline of it clear in his stomach with every rough thrust. The sound of skin slapping mixes with the buzz of electronic malfunction as your cock melts Vox's brain.

"Go-ah- God please please- God ru-ruin me" His voice is so pretty.

Of course you have to. You flip him on his stomach and one hand goes to push his head to the pillow while the other wraps around his cock. You begin fisting his cock relishing in the muffled buzzes of delight only interrupted by his whorish begging. He begs so pretty.

"Please save me fr-from my sin- Please- Salv-AH-tion. Mercy. Fuck. Please please please-"

You press your thumb so cruelly to his slit.

"You don't get to cum before your god."

And he sobs. But he still thanks you. Of course he'd thank his god.

He thanks you for every bruise, every hand print on his ass, every second he can't breathe, every minute of pain and unbearable pleasure you subject your dear priest to. After you make sure he thanks you, then you'll reward him with kisses and gentle stroking of his cock. Nothing that's enough for him.

Even when you finally fill his ass with cum he still sobs and begs and pleads. You have to slap his ass just to make him behave.

"Say your prayer." You order and your ever obedient priest complies.

He begins his soft prayer to you thanking you for ruining his sinful body. And between his legs you increase your gentle strokes until he's shouting and crying. You squeeze his pathetic cock as you milk him of his cum and spill it all on the bed below.

That's not the end. It only marks the beginning as you begin your jackhammering thrusts again.

But once you allow him to lay limp in your arms you give him a gentle kiss.

"Such a good boy. I'll have to reward you." You could swear after you spoke his buzzing sounded like purring.

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin x male reader #vox x reader #vox x male reader #sub vox #sub hazbin hotel

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zeevawyte · 4 months

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Ok so, this is so far outside my usual stuff it’s insane, but this literally won't leave my brain and I don't know if I have time to write it so-

RadioApple fic idea under the cut:

TW: blood, mentions of cannibalism (it's Alastor, duh), semi-unsafe dom/sub (no actual sex), sub drops

Starts out your normal "stop interfering with my relationship with my daughter & you can have a snack whenever you want" kinda deal, with Alastor taking full advantage of the fact that he's got the most powerful being in hell at his mercy. Dude has a serious power trip the first time, & between that and the taste is hooked immediately.

And of course Luci isn't exactly complaining. Other than the occasional jumpscare via shadow, it hasn't been too bad. Kind of enjoyable actually, not that he'd ever admit that to the demon's face. And it's not like he hasn't been tied up or held down before either.

But then during one of their ‘meetings’ he ends up going into sub space on accident… and it keeps happening.

This wouldn't be a problem except Alastor (for obvious reasons) has literally zero information/knowledge about that sort of thing. And, being the dramatic asshole that he is, enjoys getting the last word and leaving without a backwards glance. Which means he's not there when Luci drops.

Hard.

But it's fine! He's fine! He's the King of Hell, he doesn't need some sinner to help him deal with the consequences of an arrangement he proposed in the first place. He's totally fine on his own.

Except he's not.

He is very much not fine, and it starts to show. It gets so bad that one day Charlie actually asks him if he’s ok mid-conversation.

Enter Angel Dust.

Now, by this point Angel’s like 98% sure the two powerhouses are going at it. Alastor has been in a good mood for months now (coinciding suspiciously with the two of them not being at each other’s throats all the time - at least in public) & he’s seen Luci coming out of a room straightening his coat and hat on one of the upper floors. Not to mention the down-right flirty undertones to any barbs they shoot back and forth.

Husk agrees that something is going on but heavily doubts it’s what Angel thinks.

Determined to prove that he’s right, Angel starts wandering the upper floors or heading up just as Alastor heads down (subtly, he’s not an idiot). Anyway, he’s up there one day being nosy when he hears a crash from one of the rooms. He goes in only to find Lucifer on the floor, having tripped over a side table and knocked over a lamp, disheveled and absolutely shaking.

He recognizes what’s happening almost immediately (fuck you very much Val) and gathers the little king up onto the couch, helping him calm down until he doesn’t look like he’s going to either spontaneously start sobbing or throw up on the rug.

Luci is understandably embarrassed and tries to offer him a favor for his help, but Angel waves him off saying he’s been there & that Luci doesn’t owe him anything.

The next day when Lucifer is off doing something else, Angel grabs Alastor and all but drags him into a side room.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and short king, and frankly it’s none’a my business-”

“No, it isn’t. And if that really is all you wanted to speak with me about-”

“Shut up! I’m not jokin’ alright? I’m bein’ 100% serious. You’re fucking up big time, and I’m pretty sure you don’t even know it. So if you don’t want this whole thing to end in a big fuckin’ mess you need to listen to me.”

Cue a hilariously awkward conversation where an unusually serious Angel explains dom/sub dynamics and the effects/consequences therein to an incredibly-uncomfortable-but-desperately-not-showing-it Alastor.

It ends with something along the lines of

"And look, I don't know if you actually care about the guy or if it’s just about gettin’ your kicks, but honestly? It doesn't matter. You've got your whole gentleman thing right? Openin' doors for the ladies and shit?" *pokes him in the chest* "Well as a gentleman, you've dropped the fuckin' ball. Only self-centered dicks leave their sub to drop alone."

Now if there’s one thing Alastor will not abide, it’s a loss of manners. Being told he’s been unknowingly committing a social faux pas gets under his skin immediately. It itches at him. To the point that his smile almost slips. More than once.

He needs to fix it. As soon as possible.

He’s visibly twitchy the rest of the day.

Husk corners Angel to ask what the hell he said to Al, but only gets a vague, noncommittal answer about letting him know about some information he was missing.

And the next time he and Lucifer have a ‘meeting,’ Alastor stays.

#radioapple #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #alastor #fanfic #fic ideas #had to get this OUT OF MY BRAIN #so here #have a thing

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pinkchrissysposts · 1 month

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°•*TIPS AND ADVICE FOR LOA AND VOID*•°

Guys i have come to decide that my time have come to an end in this amazing app tumblr I feel honoured to be a part of this beautiful community but before I go I would like to give some tips to everyone who.are still in their void/manifestation/shifting journey.

So as we know this is your journey to seize your power no one is gonna be there to help you except yourself. If you have been in this journey for a long time the only thing you are lacking is trust with yourself. Start building trust with yourself,it will become easier to persist. Consistency and persistence is needed of course but also trust within yourself.

I was also someone who struggled alot as a beginner for years but I slowly learned different things that are key to manifest/enter void/shift. Now don't ask what is the key because it has been mentioned in almost every loa post you read.

Follow your own style of manifesting,if you feel frustrated over methods then choose one which resonates with you,what matters is you feeling satisfied at the end.

Now this is for my a+ p girlies, I know I said it multiple times but don't affirm to get in 3D,affirm to make it your dominant thought,your goal should be making the affirmation your dominant thought that's it. It becomes thousand times easier because you also start to detach from the old story,your attention will be more on believing in that affirmation rather then seeing it in the 3D. Like this😤🤌

When we hear about horror stories,we don't see the ghost but we still believe it exist right? We start reaffirming unconscious like there is ghost in the kitchen stuff like that. (That was one shitty example ☠️💀)

I get a LOTS of ask about robotic affirming and saturation,guys it's simple they both quite similar. Well in robotic affirming you just have to chant it without really focusing on it as it saturate you and it's mostly helps with mental diet.

But during saturation try to be more focus on the affirmation,it like focus affirming.

Moving on to void,I will really recommend using the distraction method or zone out method they both are same nothing different. Also just read the masterlist from my old account @graychrissy it had mostly void post with my documented void journey. Also read rotten's shifting guide then use the gateway tape it is available in spotify too,it can be instant to reach the focus 10,but some may need practice but it's easy nothing overcomplicated just a hemi sync (Turing off left side of the brain).

Top method I recommend is affirming,SATS,FOCUS 10,DISTRACTION METHOD, LUCID DREAMING and THE BASIC WAY

NEVER BE AFRAID OF YOUR EMOTIONS,seriously it's something everyone dm me about it's really not important,your emotions are also 3D,it won't mess up your manifestation so just calm down.

Also since the link in master list aren't working I will make a new one,I will be changing the whole lay out of my blog then you guys can use it. Goodbye~~~~~~~;)

#affirmations #law of assumption #desired reality #void state #law of manifestation #loassumption #lucid dreaming #shifting #robotic affirmation #manifesting affirm and persist #a+p girlies #affirm + persist #desire reality #shiftblr #loablr #3d #4d reality #void post

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wannaeatramyeon · 4 months

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Lookism: "No thank you! I have a partner!"

Silly. G/N. Y'all probably seen the meme. Your partner comes home drunk and doesn't recognise you.

Gun Park, Ryuhei Kuroda, Goo Kim, DG, Vin Jin, Jake Kim, Samuel Seo

Loud scratching and thumps at your front door wakes you. You wonder whether to arm yourself with a frying pan and then you hear your boyfriend muttering slurred profanities.

A loud bang reverberates through your home as he stumbles, drunk, through the door.

With a sigh, you crawl out of bed to check the state they're in.

Gun gazes at you, bleary-eyed and half focused. Slightly swaying on his feet, a very unusual sight of someone usually in full control of their body.

Then something clicks in his brain, eyes hardening just before he looks away. He tells you, tone disinterested, that he's a taken man.

"I don't know how I ended up here, but don't get the wrong idea."

He turns around, exits his own living room, exits his own home, and sleeps outside the apartment in the hallway instead.

"Yeah you're pretty cute," Ryuhei mumbles, words slurring together, "But my partner is cuter."

He pulls his phone out, drops it twice, unlocks it on the third attempt and shows you a picture - one that you have seen, actually one that you took of him smooching you on the cheek.

"Aren't they cute?" He beams, utterly besotted. "Let me just crash here," he says as he collapses on the sofa. "If you touch me I'll scream."

"Get your hands off me!" Goo screeches, slapping you away as you try to undress him and get him ready for bed. "My my, you're forward aren't you?"

Goo leans forward and gives you a smile halfway between utterly charming and complete sleazeball.

Then, all bravado evaporates and he sighs.

"Oh sweetheart you would be just my type, but," he pushes you off the bed, "I'm taken and very happy about it."

He lies down, burritoing himself and turning his back to you. "You can make your own way out."

Vin fiddles with his sunglasses, peering approvingly at you.

Even in his drunken haze he can tell that damn, you're fine. Except. He is also lucid enough to realise he is not looking respectfully anymore and he thinks of you, his ride or die, and his face completely changes.

He frowns and asks you what the hell you are looking at. That you have no chance. He has a partner at home that is much hotter, much better, thank you very much and yeah he's an asshole but he's not going to cheat so back the fuck off.

You roll your eyes, hackles would have been much higher if he wasn't actually being sweet in his own way.

DG takes a moment to process the situation. And when he does, he gets it completely wrong.

He plasters on his k-pop smile. The one reserved for winning over fans, interviewers and for his insincere apology videos.

"Did you want an autograph?" He pulls out a photocard from his inner pocket and a pen (and wow, you did not realise he carried a stack of his photos. You are not going to let him live this down) and scribbles his signature that comes with some love hearts and sparkles and passes it over to you.

"Here you go," he holds it out to you in both hands, not before mumbling under his breath, "You're cute but shit if you turn into another stalker..."

Jake is already asleep on the sofa by the time you pad out, which must be some super power in itself.

"Wake up," You give his shoulder a shake. He frowns, then cracks one eye open. "Come to bed."

He grunts something indecipherable and attempts to roll his oversized frame on your undersized sofa.

"Jake, cmon."

You start to drag him to your bedroom, your touch finally waking something inside and he bolts upright, removing your hands firmly off him.

"I have a partner." He tells you with no room for any misinterpretation. "But," he scratches absentmindedly at his stomach, "Do you have any food?"

Samuel does as he's told. Obediently removing his trousers, and unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off-

(Truly, you had no ulterior motive, you just wanted to remove the stink of alcohol.)

When, maybe for the first time in his life, he is afflicted with modesty and a startling clarity.

He yanks his shirt back on and pulls his trousers on with surprisingly sober efficiency.

"Absolutely not," he glowers at you, "This is not happening. I'm taken."

#lookism x reader #lookism #gun park x reader #ryuhei kuroda x reader #ryuhei x reader #goo kim x reader #vin jin x reader #dg x reader #james lee x reader #jake kim x reader #samuel seo x reader #gun park #ryuhei kuroda #goo kim #vin jin #diego kang #jake kim #samuel seo #wannaeatramyeon

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love-bitesx · 11 months

Note

im word vomiting my headcanon list and id love to hear what you think!

*hobie gifting things that he finds to his partner like a crow. i can imagine they'd just randomly turn up, either on a desk or like they'll just find it in their bag or pocket, or that he'd just walk of and just hand it to them with no word *hobie fell for his partner hard, though he kept it pretty well hidden from everyone except pav starts calling his 'loverboy', eventually the nickname catches on to the point his future partner starts using it as well(either b/c they like it and thay're oblivious or they know exactly whats going on and are teasing him about it) *loves playful banter *nicknames for daaaaaays with his partner *hobie getting serious with a partner would be him gifting them something important, first thoughts are either a guitar pick of his or one of his favorite rings (its the most worn one he has, a simple metal one that you can literally feel the love thats gone into it. somehow it fits his partners finger perfectly)

i may be back with more, until then i salute you!

i agree with ur hc’s so much!! this is how i hc & tend to write hobie so, 100%! pls don’t hesitate if u think of anymore hehe

i’d love to expand! ~

- giving you gifts, to him, is like the ideal expression of love.

- because basically all of them are stolen, it’s a combination of his favourite things; stealing from big corporations, and seeing the beaming, heart-warming smile on your face when you open your bag and see a tiny trinket wrapped in newspaper.

- everytime you would come home, you’d find a new little addition to the house somewhere – notably: necklaces, rings, tiny ceramic statues or wooden decorations, pens, music (cd’s, vinyls, etc.) – especially if he’s been to camden market that day, his pockets would be full for you.

- when he started to fall for you, he low-key thought he was coming down with the flu.

- whenever you were around, his heart would flutter, his head dizzy and palms sweating – he considered getting medicine, until pavitr pointed something out.

- “how are you, loverboy?”

- “eh? you talking to me, pav?”

- “of course, hobie! little loverboy”

- “did you hit your head, bro?”

- pavitr would explain that he’d noticed hobie’s eyes glued to you whenever you spoke, hanging onto every word like gospel, and the way he flustered when you touched him, how he’d do anything in his power to be in your personal space.

- “shit.”

- “no! this is a good thing, my friend! love is the most bea—”

- “shit.”

- days went past of hobie avoiding you, he’d never been in love before, and it was scary to him

- his brain was only thinking of you, and he hated that he liked it. he hated that he wished for every thought to be of you.

- and he hated that he could see your body deflate when he avoided you, hated that your eyes looked sad when he turned away

- he hated that he liked loving you

- until, you caught him on his own one day, he was minding his business, relaxing on his lonesome whilst the others hung out in different dimensions.

- “hey, loverboy”

- a deer in headlights wouldn’t even come close to the shock on his face

- “loverboy?”

- loverboy? you were calling him loverboy?

- “yeah, loverboy, that’s you, isn’t it?”

- in all fairness, you were completely oblivious to the reason behind it – pav had simply just started calling him it when hobie wasn’t around, and it stuck

- “i-i guess so”

- clearing his throat, he willed his confidence back to the surface

- “you can call me anything you want, sweetheart”

- it wasn’t long before you were together, a gentle, but spontaneous kiss after a particularly dangerous mission one day sealing the deal between you both

- he was obsessed with you

- now he could be obvious about his feelings, he took that and ran with it

- his arm was essentially glued to your side, or over your shoulders, or anywhere where he could pull you in close to him

- he’d grab you by the belt buckles, dragging you towards him and welcoming you with a soft peck on the lips

- even in public, almost especially in public

- always have his hands in your back pockets, he says he hates the cliché-ness of it but he likes that he can hold you close whilst respecting your personal space – and he can feel your ass, but he doesn’t admit that outloud

- THE NICKNAMES.

- THE. NICKNAMES.

- this man is born and bred british, and over here we use nicknames more than actual names

- darling, sweetheart, love, lovely, all of those AND more are natural to him, anyway

- but he adds a special little “my” before them all now, now that you actually are his, and so “my darling”, “my love”, etc. are like a second name to you

- in bed, the nicknames would be even better, but i’ll leave that to your imagination…

- when things started getting a little serious, you’d been dating for months, all your friends and colleagues knew about him, your family as well (if you decide to tell them)

- you’re relaxing in hobie’s dimension, laying on his bed with your head on his shoulder, reading a book whilst he strums at his guitar softly. he’s humming a song you don’t recognise, but the sound of his deep melody was enough to lull you.

- “hey, love?”

- you hum in response

- “i wanna give you something.”

- sitting you up, he’d lay his guitar down and face you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to him

- “what are you—”

- he’d fiddle with his own hands for a second, before twisting his favourite ring off his index finger

- “here.”

- “hobie, are you—”

- “i’m not proposing, don’t worry. weddings are just a social nuisance that give us one more way to control each other. no. this is better.”

- you tilt your head and watch him, as he slides his ring onto your middle finger

- “it’s just a promise.”

- “a promise?”

- “a promise that i love you, and that i’m yours, innit.”

- “oh, hobie.”

- you cry a tiny bit

- and he hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead

- that’s when he knew it was serious with you, not only because of how he was so obsessed with you, and his heart melted at your touch, but because when he saw you with the ring on, his ring, his person, it just felt right. he didn’t ever wanna see you without it, or without him.

- “hey, hobie, did you mean what you said about marriage? you don’t wanna marry me one day?”

- “hey, i said i hate weddings. nothing about marriage. not if we do it our own way, you know?”

i love him so much. also pls stick around, couple of one shots & fics will be out this week!!! sorry they’re taking ages hehe

#hobie brown x you #hobie brown #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie x y/n #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobie #spiderpunk #spider punk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #across the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #love bitesx

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Read

England Lionesses x Child!Reader

Mary Earps x Child!Reader

Summary: Your sister can't read

"Oh, shit."

The suitcase clatters to the ground.

"Mummy says that's a bad word," You tell your sister.

Your sister runs a hand over her face as you stare at her, unblinking. "Yes, well, Mum isn't here right now."

"Mummy's on holiday," You agree, bobbing your head up and down.

"She is," Mary says as she hurriedly tries to pick up all the bags," Which is why you're with me."

You look around the area as Mary takes your hand, holding it firm in her own as she brings you along to the entrance.

"Morning, Mary," A man behind a phone camera says," Who's this?"

"Morning," She greets, nudging you," This is my little sister, y/n. y/n, say hello."

"Hi!" You chirp before losing interest and looking around again. "Mary, I'm hungry."

"I'm not too sure when lunch will be. Sorry," Mary says as she grabs her room key.

"But I'm hungry now."

Mary flounders a bit, patting her pockets. All she ends up with is a half eaten protein bar. She's not sure if little kids are allowed to have protein bars. She gives it to you anyway.

"Here, rugrat," She says," Don't tell mum."

You cram it into your mouth. "Why?"

"Well...I don't know if I'm meant to give that to you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't."

"Is it because you can't read?"

Mary freezes in the middle of the hallway, trying to ignore the snickers of the teammates who have poked their heads out of their rooms to watch the interaction.

"Who told you I can't read?"

You shrug. "Mikey from school says footballers can't read because all their brain power has to go to their legs. If you can't read Mary you have to tell me 'cause then I need to find someone else for my bedtime story."

"I can read, rugrat!" Mary says a bit indignantly as she tries to wave away the other girls.

You give her a look. "Are you sure? You shouldn't lie, Mary, it's mean and I'll tell on you."

"I can read!"

"Don't worry, y/n!" Ella jeers from her doorway," I can read! I can do your bedtime story."

You smile. "Thank you, Ella!"

You like Ella. She plays with Mary at Manchester United and she's a little silly sometimes and you're sure that she can do all the different voices for the characters.

You turn back to Mary. "It's okay if you can't read," You say," I'm sure Ella can teach you."

"I can read!" She insists.

You pat her on the leg in comfort. "It's okay. You still have time to learn."

You leave Mary with Ella (who promises to help her learn to read) at lunch and scamper off to join Lessi. She used to play with Mary and she used to be your most favourite at United but now she's your most favourite at Arsenal.

She sits you up nice and high at a table with some of the other Arsenal girls like Lotte and Beth.

"My sister can't read," You say in greeting," Mikey from school says it's because United players are knuckleheads, except for Ella because she can read. Are Arsenal girls knuckleheads?"

Beth laughs under her breath and tries to disguise it as a cough but you know better.

"Are you asking if we can read?" Lotte asks.

You nod.

"We can read."

"That's good." You poke at your food. "It must be sad that Mary can't read."

Beth stifles another laugh, clearing her throat. "Yeah, very sad."

You glance around the room. "Can anyone else not read?"

Alessia shrugs. "I don't know. What do you think?"

"Mikey from school says Manchester City players are smart so that must mean they can read. Can Chelsea girls read?"

"Do you want to go and ask?"

You nod and hop off your chair. You pick out the Chelsea girls easily and tug on Jess Carter's hand.

"Hey," She says," Is everything okay?" She looks around. "Where's Mary?"

"Learning to read." You peek up over the table on your tiptoes so you can see everyone. "Mikey from school says Manchester United players are knuckleheads. Are any of you knuckleheads?"

Niamh snickers before sending a teasing smile to Lauren. "LJ's a bit of a knucklehead sometimes."

LJ rolls her eyes and flicks a pea at her teammate. "You're one to talk."

You gasp and wiggle away to take Lauren's hand, pulling her up out of her seat before you grab at Niamh too. You cart them away without explanation, mentally counting Fran and Jess out of team knucklehead.

You pass by Maya and Millie Turner and call out for them urgently.

"What's going on, rugrat?" Maya chuckles as you lead the group of four on. "Are you building an army?"

You shake your head as you wander through the hallways up to the bedrooms. You count three doors down from the elevator and drop Niamh's hand to knock.

Ella opens the door with a smile before it's dropped for a look of confusion when she's greeted by the equally confused group of four behind you.

"You building an army or something, rugrat?" She laughs.

"That's what I said!" Maya says and you shake your head, forcing everyone inside.

Mary's sitting on the bed, scrolling through her phone. She looks up and groans. "What have you done this time?"

"Haven't done anything!" You insist, sticking your tongue out at her before turning to Ella. You point at the girls. "They can't read!" You tell her," 'Cause Niamh and LJ are knuckleheads and Maya and Millie play for United."

"I play for United," Ella says.

"But you can read. You're special," You tell her," You have to teach them."

You sound so serious and Mary can't help but burst into laughter.

That annoys you a little bit but you know just how to shut her up.

"You can't leave until you've learnt to read!"

#woso x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt #lionesses x reader #england lionesses #mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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islandofsages · 5 months

Note

hey, I could ask the royal boys (Leona, Kalim and Malleus) with the male reader who is already the king of his country, like the boys thought he was a prince like them, but then on any given day he lets out a complaint how difficult it is to govern the kingdom and study for exams at the same time, sometimes he just wanted to be the prince and not the king.

characters: leona, kalim and malleus x king!male reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format

warnings: a little bit of negativity towards reader in leona's part, a bit of swearing in kalim's

author's notes: loving all the male reader requests rn. i think i strayed a bit from the prompt but i hope you like it anyway <3

Leona Kingscholar

Though being a prince himself, he’s not as “diplomatic” with the other princes at that school - except for you probably. No don’t ask him what happened, he’s ready to accept it as it is

At least because of your (assumed) status, he finds it easier to communicate with you; at least you’re not one of the top five most powerful mages in the world or the most optimistic person in Twisted Wonderland

Hangouts with him still consist more of silent chilling though; both of you just need to get away from it all for a while

He doesn’t question the days that you’re gone - sometimes people just end up needing you to do this and that. He tries not to dwell on it too much, lest his inferiority complex gets the best of him

Until one day, you come back after one day of absence, which is normal enough until-

“*sigh* I swear, being king is less appealing as my retainers make it sound, especially since I also have to go to school all the while.”

I’m sorry, being what now?

He knew you were royalty, that much he got from everyone whispering about you back when you enrolled and since you made little mention of your background, he just assumed you were a prince like him

You let out a tired chuckle then and comment on how you forgot that you never told him you’re an actual king of a nation

He has mixed feelings over this - he thought he finally met someone a little bit like him, yet you’re just another one of them and you never bothered telling him who you are?

But don’t worry, he gets over his feelings of betrayal after a while; it’s not like the reveal changed who you are as a person. You’re still the same guy who he’s been hanging out with and he knows his brain is trying to defend itself

You apologize for not telling him sooner and despite your complaints, you try not to sound ungrateful, especially considering his issues

At some point, even Leona himself starts to forget about that fact

It doesn’t matter if you carry a whole nation on your shoulders because - and he will never say this out loud - he knows you’re capable and if you start to crumble, he’ll be there for you.

Kalim Al-Asim

Though he’s not one to really care about someone’s social status, he’s happy to have more royal friends

Doesn’t stop him from spoiling you. Haven’t you heard? Any friends of Kalim are also friends of his many, many fortunes

He invites you over to Scarabia for parties every so often and either you are surrounded by people or everyone leaves you alone out of intimidation

But hey, if the latter happens, Kalim is more than happy to help you make some friends (unless you’re uncomfortable with it of course but he’ll still try to help)

One time, at one of his many parties, you two were simply laughing over something and it reminded you of something-

“That makes me think of the time this creature took a shit on my throne back at home - it took a few days for the stench to fade!”

Oh, of course, your throne! Everyone totally has a literal throne back home! Until Kalim realizes that is, in fact, untrue

As if he wasn’t already excited at the prospect of a new friend, he gets more excited at the fact that you have your own throne and is, he concludes, a monarch

You brush him off, light pink decorating your cheeks, saying that it’s not really that special - and you mean it

You tell him of the experience and you couldn’t help slip in a few complaints; it isn’t easy to juggle both school and royal responsibilities at the same time

He only listens in and tries his best to understand; he is no king, and though he is a housewarden and a prince, your struggles differ from his by a long mile

From that day on, he makes sure to check in on you and if you’re feeling less than, he’ll drop everything and do anything to relieve you of your stress

When he drops by your nation and your palace, he brings in a whole parade. It’s so Kalim that you can only laugh

You knew that story about a creature shitting on your throne was gonna be a good story at parties.

Malleus Draconia

Your presence is an absolute delight to him; it didn’t occur to him to ask what kind of royalty you are but it didn’t matter either way

He finds himself more comfortable talking about his heritage around you, knowing that you can somewhat relate to being of nobility

If you’re not part of his club, sometimes you tag along on his gargoyle crusades for the hell of it - seeing him so passionate about something brings a smile to your face

On one of your many escapades, he points out a gargoyle and begins to ramble about its features

Hearing it suddenly makes you remember-

“Ah gosh, I just remembered I should be back home right now, some of my people will be coming over to construct some gargoyles around my castle.”

He doesn’t question it at first but then the phrase “my people” registered in his mind. Wait, what do you mean your people?

You start to apologize for not telling him and also the fact that you have to leave that very moment

After you came back after the whole ordeal, you sit him down somewhere and tell him about your position

As mentioned, it doesn’t matter to him what responsibilities you have, as long as you can be his friend

You breathe out a sigh of relief and invite him to continue where you two left off last time

Nothing changes much between you two, except for the fact that you share more of your kingly experiences

He definitely drops by your place at least once - he could never miss out a chance on seeing some new gargoyles

And as he looks on at those beautiful waterspouts, you can’t help but be grateful that they can serve as a source of happiness for someone too.

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vidavalor · 30 days

Text

Great Balls of Fire

Ok, I've got a Final 15 theory on the kiss and the elevator and... pie?

This is for-- and in thanks to-- @indigovigilance, @ineffablelunatics and @somehow-a-human, as their metas reminded me of the idea of something in Aziraphale's mouth after the kiss and their talk of ball bearings and The Bullet Catch has eaten my brain alive and so here we are. Thanks also to @kayleefansposts for drawing my attention to 2/3rds of the metas. 🤗

What, exactly, happened in The Final 15? Maybe this...

As observed by many of us and discussed in the metas of the people I mentioned above, Aziraphale visibly has something in his mouth when he pulls back from the kiss. We also see him move the object around in his mouth-- or, we do, if his expression doesn't distract us first.

Because it's on his tongue, this isn't just light being weird or showing a filling or something. This is, clearly, a piece of metallic-colored something in Aziraphale's mouth. @indigovigilance pointed out how aspects of this parallel aspects of The Bullet Catch and I would agree with that. @ineffablelunatics, off of @somehow-a-human's post on the object, said it looked like a ball bearing and that's actually when I realized that I think the show might have subtly told us over the first two seasons what it is. And if it is what I think it is? The object is the reason for Aziraphale's reaction after the kiss-- not the kiss itself.

So, what is it?

To explain that, we have to start with two scenes, one from each season: 1601 and Crowley in Heaven with Muriel in 2.06.

In the 1601 scene, we learned that Crowley & Aziraphale experimented with their powers after they got tired of canceling each other out and that they discovered Heaven's dirty little secret in the process. That secret is that basically the only differences between them are the colors of their feathers and the lack of immunity to hellfire/holy water. Heaven has been telling everyone that some magic was "demonic" and that angels couldn't do it and they also had told everyone that demons no longer possessed angelic powers. Crowley & Aziraphale realized that this was bullshit-- Aziraphale could do temptations and Crowley could still do blessings. It's this discovery that allowed them to start fulfilling each other's assignments. They didn't tell a soul because of the danger of admitting they knew, especially because admitting it would be acknowledging that they had worked together to figure it out. This means that, with the exception of holy water being dangerous to him since he fell, Crowley is effectively still an angel in terms of the power he possesses.

This would mean he can magically make just about anything he could make when he was an angel. It's relevant because Crowley, as we'll see, made the object he slipped into Aziraphale's mouth during the kiss.

When Crowley is in Heaven with Muriel in 2.06, he opens the file on Gabriel's trial, which we are told can only be accessed by "a throne, or a dominion, or above"-- further showing that the truth is that Heaven actually can't strip angels of their power to do miracles. They're just simply telling them that they have done so as a form of social control and casting some to Hell to use them as way to discourage rebellion. This scene also reminds us of Crowley's awareness of this and shows him using his "angelic" powers to get information to help Gabriel.

The same scene with Muriel and Crowley that showed us that Crowley still retains his angelic powers reminds us again of the rank of throne/dominion in Heaven. (I say "throne/dominion" because Muriel's verbal commas and the way the sentence is structured-- along with the scene in S1 when Crowley goes from his throne to dominate his plants lol-- suggests that it is possible to be both ranks of angel at once, which is another topic so we won't go too far into that right now.) Crowley was undoubtedly a throne/dominion-- and it's not even just the fact that he had that hilariously tacky throne in S1. It's relevant here because of ties of throne-related things to what it is that Crowley made and slipped into Aziraphale's mouth.

Thrones are apparently God's chariots. They are concerned with justice and reside in the areas of space "where matter originates"-- which feels very Before the Beginning, right? They are symbolized by big wheels that rotate and by eyes that change color.

Yes, by wheels and eyes that change color... seems very Crowley, no?

The eyes repeat on the symbolic wheels and are in the position of what we on Earth would call ball bearings, apparently looking kind of like this:

...and remember the interconnected, turning wheels in the scroll that Crowley had Aziraphale hold in the moment they met, at the start of 2.01?...

It could be said that Crowley... a throne, a polymath, a scientist, an inventor... a being whose signature thing is the sexiest old car on four wheels... could make ball bearings from his body when he was an angel and, since we know that he still has basically everything but the ability to make holy water from his angel days, it means that he still can make those ball bearings...

...but we also know what else he can make from his body since he's also a demon-- and not just from his hands but from his mouth...

...hellfire.

Yes, I'm saying that it really was a ball bearing in Aziraphale's mouth-- but it was not hollow or empty. Not by a long shot. It was full of hellfire. It wasn't for Aziraphale's memories as Crowley didn't think that Aziraphale had time or opportunity left to extract them.

It was a suicide pill.

The story was calling back to The Original Ineffable Divorce in 1862...

Think about what Crowley saw when he was up in Heaven in S2...

Crowley is the one who put together what happened to Gabriel. He watched the video of Gabriel's sham "trial" and he saw The Metatron basically order Gabriel killed and cast down through the ranks and he knows that Gabriel only evaded Hell because of how it would have diminished the power of the institution of Heaven to send him there. Crowley knows that Aziraphale does not have this same amount of political power. He knows that The Metatron is a shifty motherfucker and that Michael cannot be counted on. He knows how much danger Aziraphale is in.

So, he takes a page from Lord Beezlebub after seeing that they protected Gabriel with the fly... only it's not exactly the same thing.

Beez's fly was given to Gabriel to help save him. It was a place to store his memories to help protect him long enough to keep him safe until they could make sure he was safe and intact. It worked because Beez and Gabriel had time to make a plan together. By the time Crowley is in Heaven watching the video of what happened to Gabriel and then getting back to the bookshop to sort it all out, there's no time for he and Aziraphale to make a plan. They are not alone again until after "The Metatron" has already shown up and, by then, Aziraphale is already on his way to being lost.

Beez is actually the first character we ever see make their signature thing on-screen and when they do? I mean...

Evocative of a kiss, with that big closeup on Beez's mouth. We watch them push the fly gently out of their mouth with their tongue. It foreshadows Crowley making something in his mouth and ties delivery of it to the kiss. We know that Crowley knows that he can make a single object that is of aspects of both Heaven and Hell combined-- like a ball of hellfire tempered, unless consumed, by a ball bearing.

Plus, earlier in the season, there's Gabriel tying The Fly-- which came about as a result of Beez trying to help him manage his depression by helping him to feel safer-- to metaphorical suicide when he spends the scene where the angels show up chasing it around the bookshop, trying to kill it with one of Aziraphale's Bibles, symbolizing just what Heaven is doing to everyone's mental health here...

But this is just where this possibility starts, really... because why else do I think it's a hellfire-full ball bearing suicide capsule that Crowley gave Aziraphale?

Well, for starters, there is all the holy water that is all over this plot at the end of S2... At the end, Crowley stands in Whickber Street outside The Bentley right across from The Dirty Donkey in a nod to-- among other scenes-- the 1967 scene, when Aziraphale brought Crowley the holy water.

Aziraphale knew that Crowley also secretly wanted holy water as a last resort and Aziraphale initially couldn't handle the idea of losing Crowley and reacted badly before eventually coming around to the idea that maybe Crowley needed to have some supernatural cyanide at his disposal in order to feel safer and that he should have that option. Based on the holy water story, Crowley, then, would be the first person to think that Aziraphale needed a suicide pill as an option if he found himself in trouble he couldn't get out of.

In 2.06, Crowley knows how likely it is that Aziraphale could be harmed by the angels and/or sent to Hell-- which is the domain of Crowley's assailant, who is literally Satan, and who hates both of them for, among other things, turning Adam against him. Crowley knows Aziraphale is a good person who wants to believe the best is possible but he also knows how unlikely it is that this is going to go well for Aziraphale. Crowley can't stand the thought of Aziraphale suffering so he gives him a way out as an act of love because Crowley would sooner lose Aziraphale for eternity than see him suffer.

When it becomes clear that Aziraphale is going with "The Metatron" and Crowley is out of ways to convince him not to, he sees Aziraphale look away and start to cry. Crowley goes back and kisses him as a last resort but Aziraphale is initially resistant-- not because this is their first kiss and not even just because they're upset (though that's part of it) but because to kiss Crowley then would be to let him in... (after all of those symbolic doors and "let me in"s happening in the story)... when Aziraphale making the mistake of trying to shut him out.

Aziraphale eventually, though, can't help but let Crowley in a little...

...because, ya know, it's Crowley...

...and, when he does, he opens up a little, and Crowley slips a suicide pill into Aziraphale's mouth.

It's also definitely worth noting that one of the reasons-- the primary reason, even-- why Crowley kisses Aziraphale is because he needs a cover to both make and give the fireball to Aziraphale without being noticed-- and to do so in such a way that Aziraphale would be assured of the ability to have it on his person when he got to Heaven-- even if he lost his clothes in the process, as like what happened to Gabriel when he was cast out. It has to go in Aziraphale's mouth for easy consumption for it to work and kissing him is the only way to do that. What's really worth noting, though?

Crowley's plan hinged on Aziraphale eventually giving in and kissing him back. He couldn't tongue the fireball into Aziraphale's mouth without Aziraphale parting his lips and Crowley knew he would... because he always does. Not that they're regularly trying to kiss while being super miserable lol but mah point is that Crowley knows that Aziraphale can't ever not kiss him. That's not indicative of this being a first kiss-- that's indicative of the complete opposite of that.

Anyway...

Aziraphale knows what Crowley can make and what it is that he just gave him and that's why this is his reaction after the kiss:

The devastation isn't over the kiss itself. It's because Aziraphale trusts Crowley's interpretations of things more than his own sometimes and, by secretly slipping Aziraphale a suicide capsule out of fear and love and delivered in a kiss, it really hits home for Aziraphale that Crowley thinks they are now in a situation where there probably isn't going to be another way out. It's not because it's a first kiss-- it's because it's likely a last one-- and things are so dire that it came with supernatural cyanide.

It's the realization that Crowley really thinks Aziraphale has been fooled and Aziraphale can't bear it because he knows, deep down, that Crowley is probably right and he's embarrassed. 'Pride goeth before a fall' and all that... Aziraphale is lovely-- an absolute poppet-- but he's imperfect, just like us all. One of his worst traits is that he doubles down when he's been embarrassed as a way of trying to save face and retain pride. It's maybe his worse flaw and it gets very dangerous for him here. Crowley is no stranger to trying to stop situations where it could happen, like this paralleling time in 1941:

Some other reasons why it's a fireball suicide pill before we get to what then happened in the elevator...

There's the fact that the show had a scene set in S2 in The Dirty Donkey-- where the elevator is. (As the start of the scene, Crowley & Aziraphale even walk through the door where the elevator will materialize at the end of S2.) Part of their conversation is very possibly Crowley recounting their first kiss-- at minimum, it's about kissing-- and then Aziraphale makes it also about balls, combining the two to, among other things, foreshadow The Final 15:

The wordplay here is already threefold in this scene off of Crowley's joke that follows Aziraphale remembering Jane Austen's balls: balls (testicles), the phrase that x person "has balls" (is badass), and balls (of the cotillion/dancing variety). This continues into the meeting that Aziraphale hosts-- the disaster of a ball that goes straight into the end game of the season. Here's Aziraphale making yet another ball-related wordplay joke-- this one, during The Meeting Ball:

"We're having a ball" as in they're literally having a ball-- a party-- but also the idiom "we're having a ball" meaning "we're having a great time." We are now up to four different meanings of the word 'ball' in S2, stretched across different scenes, emphasizing the importance of it. One of the missing ones still needed here to complete this idea is a literal ball-- and the ball bearing would not only meet this idea but would then make all of the ball-related wordplay have had the purpose of building towards it. We think it's building towards The Meeting Ball-- and it is-- but all of it, including The Meeting Ball, would actually then be building towards the hellfire ball, which is the actual ending of S2.

Then, there's what this all has to do with the eccles cakes...

Yes, eccles cakes lol... Eccles cakes, as a lot of us already know, are popularly referred to as "fly cakes", off of how the currents sometimes look in them, but the significant thing here is that, despite their name, eccles cakes are not actually cakes at all-- they are really pies.

Ball bearings are also used in Good Omens' favorite metaphor of food to weigh down dough when baking pie crust. Pie weights and ball bearings are basically the same things, just put to different use. It means you literally cannot make eccles cakes from scratch without a jar of pie weights... which are just, structurally, the same thing as ball bearings... and Crowley can make them. You also make pie dough by first rolling it into a ball.

Which is likely why this hilarious moment exists:

Please hold The Cake-Pies of Symbolism, my pie (and Pi)-loving dear...

Crowley's face at having to stand there holding some little pies 😂...

The eccles cakes-that-are-really-pies go along with this theory as well because look how the show presented the forthcoming apocalypse to us back in 2.01:

The horse is Crowley, the rider is Aziraphale, and they're headed for Armageddon-like mental health disaster-- all ushered in by the four eccles cakes, representing Gabriel, Beez, Nina (who suggested & gave them the eccles cakes) and Maggie.

Presumably, The Lords of the Flies are the two eccles cakes that are already canoodling on the back of the plate while Maggie and Nina are the two in the foreground who are aligned but not yet together. Crowley's S2 plot is largely working at the behest of these wonderfully rebellious pies. He looks after Gabriel, finds out what happened to him and connects it all to Beez... and this is after he spent the season on his vavoomy Operation Lovebirds to get Maggie and Nina together. He's responsible for the pie crust-- the containers of the eccles cakes-- in a show obsessed with containers. Crowley is, symbolically, a jar of pie weights in being form by way of his actions-- which is suggestive of the fact that he can probably physically make them. (There's also: "Just a few million years to bake," which Crowley said of his stars-- which he made-- in the opening scene of the season.)

"Nina, what do you sell that calms people down?"

Calm is from the Greek kauma, which means the heat of the day. Heat, as in slang for a weapon. Heat, as in hellfire. Heat, as in what's needed to bake. Heat, as in passion. Heat, as in "bringing the heat." The heat of the day-- the sunny daylight of The Final 15. Eccles cakes-- really: pies-- calm people down... they bring them heat, in every possible way, and it sets them on a path down-- to Hell.

Then, there's Agnes Nutter...

When The Witchfinder Army came to kill Agnes, she hid gunpowder (a weapon) and roofing nails (the construction-related metal that enabled it) in her dress. Agnes blew up-- she became a literal. fireball. Crowley wasn't necessarily suggesting that Aziraphale turn himself into an Agnes-like bomb in Heaven when he gave him the capsule but he was giving him a weapon involving fire with which he could kill himself if he had no other way out.

Then, there's the theme of suicide in examples from earlier in the season:

Crowley saving Elspeth (on the night Crowley was dragged to Hell)... The bit when Aziraphale then calls Crowley from Edinburgh in the present and tells him that he's read that Dalrymple left in disgrace and killed himself... "The Bananafish" being a short story about trauma by J.D. Salinger which ends with a traumatized man suddenly killing himself... Crowley setting Gabriel up to jump from the window and then stopping him from doing it...

There's also the fact that the end of S1 was Heaven and Hell forcing Crowley and Aziraphale into forms of suicide (getting into hellfire/holy water) and the "Aziraphale" in the Heaven part of it was Crowley spitting hellfire-- at Gabriel, no less, whose story is what jumpstarts S2.

Then, there's that the song that is The Clue to everything in S2 is "Everyday", the significance of which is that it's a foundational song of American rock 'n roll. Rock 'n roll is a blend of musical styles that actually wouldn't exist without first the big band/swing that Aziraphale loves that came before it-- symbolizing how Crowley & Aziraphale paved the way for Gabriel & Beez. There's another song, though, that, like "Everyday", is from the pivotal rock year of 1957 that is equally influential and is enormously Good Omens-y, in the sense that it cleverly uses wordplay to the effect of barely disguising sexual euphemisms and often through amusingly church-y language:

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain/Too much love drives a man insane/You broke my will/But what a thrill...

Goodness gracious... great balls of fire...

[Also: less part of the theory and more just a possible nod but... "The Metatron" brought Aziraphale a coffee, there's a threat of non-existence, and Aziraphale might have gotten a 'kiss of death' from a being who is, essentially, a cherry pie lol... so, those of you who know that other greatest television show to ever television show might see a bit of a nod to Twin Peaks in here as well.]

Speaking of kisses of death... the film that popularized the word "vavoom"-- and which GO S2 is homaging all over the place-- is called 'Kiss Me Deadly.'..

So, after the kiss, Aziraphale gets the capsule and keeps it tucked into his mouth and he's gone too far with the conversation and doesn't want to admit that maybe he's wrong and Crowley is right. Crowley goes out, "The Metatron" comes back in, and Aziraphale keeps looking at Crowley staying by the car out the window and he's a bit more nervous now ("what about, um, my bookshop?"). Even if he still wants to be right, he's beginning to doubt even more that he is.

He almost tells "The Metatron" to go. He almost goes to Crowley. We see him start to say that he thinks he made a mistake but he doesn't go through with it. He's too embarrassed. Fraulein Maria can't face The Captain and is trying to run back to The Abbey over here.

Aziraphale goes out with "The Metatron" and the significant moment is this revelation: "We call it 'The Second Coming'."

This is the moment that Aziraphale realizes for sure that he's been tricked and there is no Supreme Archangel job for him. The Metatron doesn't want to change Heaven or save anybody-- he wants to destroy the world, same as he always has-- and there's no way that he'd ever trust Aziraphale to carry that out when Aziraphale is who stopped the first round. Heaven will never admit they did wrong by Crowley-- to do so would be to collapse the system because then every demon would want to appeal their own status and demand justice and the Heaven/Hell regime would fall, in the sense that their little supernatural empire would crumble. The Metatron would never allow that and Aziraphale realizes in this moment for sure that he has been played for a sucker.

It's still possible that, at this moment, Aziraphale might still believe that this being who has tempted him with the possibility of the justice he wants for Crowley more than Crowley actually wants for himself-- and with false reassurances that he and Crowley could be together forever-- actually is The Metatron. Or, Aziraphale might be starting to get the sense of what's actually happening but, either way, he now knows that he's been fooled. He knows now that while he and Crowley both got some things wrong (suggesting they run off and proposing suddenly were not great moves on Crowley's part)... about this bit anyway? About being in danger if he believes the being who came to the door? Crowley was right.

So, Aziraphale has a choice: does he go to Crowley or does he get in the elevator, knowing now that to do so is to go to a form of death?

He can't face Crowley. He knows Crowley would forgive him and just wants him to be safe but, in the moment, Aziraphale is too ashamed and too embarrassed to admit that he was fooled and to deal with how awfully he just behaved. He's also exhausted from being hounded by the weight of his halo and Heaven for thousands of years. Negative thought cycles in overdrive-- he's never truly believed that he deserves Crowley and he has convinced himself that maybe Crowley might be better off without him. Maybe they just don't get a happy ending and maybe Aziraphale is so tired and can't run and hide anymore and just wants it to end.

Imagine spending thousands of years in service of an organization that also doubles as family and who abused you and abandoned you and who now wants to kill you... and you so hoped that change was possible that you clung to the idea beyond a point of reason-- to the point of hurting the one you love, with whom you have the only real love you've ever known. And you know he'd forgive you in a heartbeat because he loves you and he just wants you to be safe but you can't face him because you can't yet face yourself... that's Aziraphale deciding between Crowley and the elevator.

Aziraphale can barely glance over at Crowley and when, he does, it's also The Bentley he's looking at because he's telling the car to play Crowley their song. Crowley said "no nightingales" but Aziraphale says, in response: "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square." His last moment on Earth and he uses it to basically leave a suicide note for Crowley that says nothing but I'm sorry. I love you.

Their song plays when Crowley starts the engine of The Bentley, which calls back to the first time they met in the Before the Beginning scene that began the season and showed how they started the engine of the universe together.

Aziraphale might be trying to warn Crowley about Armageddon by sending an "engine trouble"-type of message or he might be calling back to when they first met or, as I suspect, he might be doing both but the show, at least, is referencing Before the Beginning here with this, whether or not Aziraphale intentionally is.

So, Aziraphale? He makes his choice. He gets into the elevator...

...and he swallows the fireball. Which we can see him do here:

Or, as this was foreshadowed in S1 by the being whose own fall and subsequent arrival at the bookshop door set all the events in this season into motion:

(The eerieness of the fake grin on Gabriel after seeing how it foreshadows S2 ending with Aziraphale's mad grin...)

Because, when all is said and done, this poor bastard really would have a death-by-swallowing-something story over here, wouldn't he? Can they just hurry up and destroy the Heaven/Hell system so Aziraphale can have food and sex in peace already, please? 😄

Aziraphale knew he'd been played and he didn't want to go through whatever came next. He didn't want to reach the top floor of Heaven because he knows that only forms of death await him there. They'll take his memories. They'll cast him to Hell. Being a demon is no picnic and Aziraphale has seen that in being with Crowley for so long. Satan is not exactly the biggest fan of Aziraphale and Aziraphale, better than most, knows what Satan is capable of. He doesn't want any part of that. He ingested a suicide pill to avoid being captured by the enemy.

Crowley gave him the pill because angels are not immune to hellfire. That's what made it a suicide capsule, right? It was supposed to kill him within seconds. It was supposed to be quick and relatively painless-- a way to escape the horrors that might await him. Even when Aziraphale is at his worst-- as Aziraphale was in their last scene in bookshop-- he is still a pure-of-heart, lovely being to Crowley because Crowley loves Aziraphale as he is-- imperfect. Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. It never occurred to Crowley that the capsule might fail. Why? Because Aziraphale is, always and forever, his angel.

Both Crowley and Aziraphale thought the fireball should have protected Aziraphale from pain and suffering by killing him almost instantly once he ingested it.

By that measure, Aziraphale should have burst into flames in the elevator, seconds after he swallowed the pill just after stepping inside.

But he did not.

We watch as the seconds start to tick by... and we see the realization play out on Aziraphale's face as each second that passes is another one where he's still here...

...the look gets more and more unhinged as the elevator keeps climbing until we get the slightly mad dark grin as the last shot of him before a fade to a deathly black... with Aziraphale having spent the final splitscreen since he got into the elevator on the other side of Crowley, symbolizing what's happened.

In the elevator scene, we are watching the dawning realization play out on Aziraphale's face as the fireball doesn't work and there's only one reason why it wouldn't-- because he's no longer an angel.

Aziraphale has been sauntering vaguely downward for the season and maybe for awhile before then. He's been letting the darkness in, more and more, throughout all of S2. We have been watching his fall happen. The 'falling from a great height into a pit of boiling sulphur' part of falling? Ceremonial. An aftermath of sorts-- an additional punishment. It awaits Aziraphale when he gets off the elevator in Heaven but it's something we likely don't really need to see and never have seen in the show yet because that's not actually the main point of a fall. By the time you're literally falling from a great height, you've actually already fallen.

Aziraphale's determined-- but also just really half-mad-- final grim smile in the elevator over his understanding of what's happened is both the pain of thousands of years of religious trauma and abuse-related misery and a bit of completely unhinged I'm gonna burn this place to the fucking ground fury.

Aziraphale swallowing the capsule also parallels Gabriel having to "consume" The Fly to open it. The Fly went through Gabriel's eye and allowed him to "see"-- it give him realization and understanding by returning his memories to him. For Aziraphale, he swallows the fireball and it also gives him a kind of sight-- realization and understanding of what's happened and what's to come... all of this also in the moments before his memories (and, so, his sense of self/his life) will likely be taken from him.

(For a time-- he'll be fine eventually. *mantras* South Downs Cottage, South Downs Cottage...)

"And from his mouth go burning lamps and sparks of fire leap out." The Job quote on the matchbox. The matchbox contained the fly-- it's the equivalent to the ball bearing containing hellfire. Works now on several different levels but one of them then is: And from his mouth (Crowley's mouth/the kiss/the fireball/Aziraphale swallowing the fireball)...

...go burning lamps (the light that goes out in the bookshop when Aziraphale is in the elevator)...

...and sparks of fire leap out. Several meanings:

Literal sparks-- in that Aziraphale can now spit hellfire, like how Crowley did in his body in Heaven in S1.

Sparks of fire leaping out, in the sense that Aziraphale has made the leap-- he is a demon now.

Lastly, though... sparks of fire leap out... as in, Hell (and Heaven) hath no fury like this very, very, very pissed off Angel of the Eastern Gate whose whole thing is freeing those imprisoned by corrupt systems...

Visually paralleling the elevator with a grey wall behind him and light/darkness alternately striping Aziraphale is the 'Aziraphale and God' scene in 1.03, setting up its sister elevator scene in 2.06, where Aziraphale realizes that he has been tempted by Satan and has fallen. (Ironically, a realization about having fallen that happens while going Up in an elevator.)

God: "Aziraphale. (dryly) Angel of the Eastern Gate. Where is the flaming sword I gave you, Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale, unintentionally foreshadowing the fuck out of the plot:

"...must have put it down here somewhere."

Yeah. 😉 Give 'em hell, Aziraphale.

Bonuses:

The awning of a new age/Dawning of a New Age joke. An understanding/a daybreak that begins a new era...

"Oh, listen, I think it's about to happen-- the 'awning' of a new age." Yes, indeed, Crowley. A dawning of a new age was imminent...

...and, finally, if you substitute 'Aziraphale' for his parallel of 'Job' in these sentences, Bildaddy summarized the season endgame quite nicely in 2.02:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens theory #aziracrow #good omens speculation #good omens clues #good omens analysis #good omens parallels #long post but worth it #tw suicide #tw depression

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azareel-writes · 1 year

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sub!demon brothers/reader headcanons ♡

chara. by appearance: mammon, leviathan, asmodeus, beelzebub, satan, belphegor, lucifer ft. afab!MC / afab!reader ♡ no gendered terms used for reader except "mommy" ♡ 18+ under the cut

nightbringer has reawakened my love for obey me! when i first started OM, one of my things was deducing what demons brothers are subs and now i know my answer is all of them. might expand on this later!!

mammon: mommy kink. it's canon, trust me. mams is so down bad for his mommy. a service sub w bratty tendencies but his dick always wins the battle between continuing to be difficult or being obedient and cumming. loves when you pull him by the hair no matter the context. to get his attention? yes. making out? obviously. forcing him to look at you while he's on his knees? the dumb baby might cum in his pants.

leviathan: two ways to deal with our lovely snake boi. first, degrade him. make fun of him for being a dumb virgin, spank him, bite him. humiliate him by stripping him completely but keeping most of your clothes on. or second, praise him. treat him so gently like one of his priceless figurines. kiss him all over before you lay a finger on his cock. reward him for staying. levi isn't used to affection but that can be solved by handcuffing him so he can't cover up his pretty body. by degrading him or being super loving, you're being sooooo mean to him it's not fair :((((

beelzebub: praise kink and i refuse to relent in this. for the love of everything holy and infernal, someone praise this boy. do i have to make the argument for oral? he's ecstatic to have you ride his face and will do so for hours if you let him. a well behaved boy - the best of his brothers - with a ton of stamina! loves the size difference between you two. you're a human and so small and so fragile compared to him. but you can make his brain go all fuzzy and make him feel small. your soothing presence brings him to his knees, eager and ready to please.

asmodeus: he's not the avatar of lust for nothing! will switch things up on you whenever he feels like it, just to keep you on your toes! sometimes he's a power bottom, sometimes he's the eager service sub. into some light kitten play! just an excuse for asmo to dress up for you. (though you might want to get him out of it quickly~) cat ears, pretty lingerie, thigh-highs and garterbelts, a tail plug to match... or maybe a classic bunny suit? low cut corset suit with a tail, fishnets, heels, and always ready to serve you.

satan: size queen. anything goes until he safewords. relatively well behaved - he is more impatient than bratty. his chest is super sensitive, he's never walking away without hickies. doesn't say it but he likes it slow. running a hand through his hair, kissing all over his face. he wants to feel like he's yours and yours alone. subspace really calms him down. outside of sex, he curls up to you, staying glued to you. he will get quiet or nonverbal but don't worry! he's in a good mood, so let him lay in your lap and dote on him a little.

belphegor: brat. big big brat. the type of brat that needs to be broken. edge him into oblivion then force him to cum over and over again — that is what the little brat wanted, now he's begging you to stop? maybe he's learned his lesson, but he loves pushing your buttons too much to kick the habit. can only manage to stay up 3–4 minutes after; he believes the post-sex sleep is amazing when he's sore and satisfied. loves to lay on your chest while you rub his back and play with his hair.

lucifer: experienced doms only: hard mode!! everything is discussed beforehand with a very detailed contract - kinks, limits, curiosities. calls you master in bed. loves when you use your pact on him (consensually). pretty obedient boy, as are the terms of your contract. big shibari fan. imagine having the avatar of pride tied up in red ropes like a present looking up at you. that sight alone will make you feel like the strongest being in all three realms.

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

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Request: smooth as butter Steve flirting with Eddie while the CC boys watch in shock as their ruthless Eddie turns red(?) and gets all blushy bc he doesn't know how to deal with this STEVE???? making it better:it happens during DND the one time Eddie gets Steve to play & the entire time Steve's human bard character flirting hardcore with Eddie via his NPC's (the kids aren't involved in this one just Steddie & Corroded Coffin boys)

MY LOVEEEEEEE!!!! Okay I have never played. I know. Hush, I know. My best friend wants me to so bad she bought me dice. And like, I probably will, but like Steve, my brain is trying to not only deal with math, but also just how involved it all is. I like games that take about half a brain cell. I'm also super bad at the flirting thing, in real life and when writing. I just cannot do it my friends. But I did my best here and I hope it isn't the worst😂 - Mickala ❤️

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

He was doing this for Dustin.

He made a character sheet with Lucas, went over the basics, learned that maybe the math part wouldn’t be so bad.

And then he convinced Eddie to let him do a one shot with the Corroded Coffin guys so he could get a feel for it all without Dustin knowing.

He didn’t get that creative with his character according to Lucas, but he was also supportive and understanding that Steve wasn’t doing this as a regular thing.

Eddie explained to the guys that they needed to be patient, that Steve was genuinely trying to learn.

“Everyone was new once, so I don’t wanna hear anything from any of you about how annoying it is to have to take it so slow and explain everything. He’s trying to do a nice thing for Henderson and we’re going to be nice.”

Everyone groaned, but nodded in agreement.

“Are we talking about your crush on him yet, or is that still off the table?” Gareth had the gall to ask.

“There’s no crush to even have on the table,” Eddie said.

“Sure, dude.”

—--------------

Things were not going well.

Well, okay, they weren’t going bad.

It’s just that Lucas apparently explained to Steve that being in character was very important and Steve failed to mention that his character’s charisma was the highest possible option.

He shouldn’t be surprised by that.

Maybe he’s just surprised with all the blatant flirting.

The guys keep shooting him looks like they know that he’s struggling, that they can see that he is barely able to hold onto the power the DM usually has.

“The guard stops you, but he recognizes you. ‘You’re the one who stole the sword!’ he yells, catching the attention of the other guards. You panic because your party is still hiding in the bush with strict instructions not to be seen unless they draw their weapons on you. How will you respond?”

Steve smirked.

Not good. Run away. Get out, Munson, you’re fucked.

But he couldn’t leave.

He was the DM, and they were barely halfway done with what he had planned.

He had to see this through and he had to give Steve the best possible introduction to this game.

It was for Dustin.

“I’d probably have to insist that it wasn’t me he saw, but that I sure wish I’d seen him before. Maybe wink at him,” Steve said. “Actually, definitely wink at him.”

Steve looked at everyone else, smile silently asking for approval.

Everyone smirked at Eddie before giving him a thumbs up.

Traitors.

He’d be saying something later for sure.

“The guard is still suspicious, but waves the other guards off. He looks you over, circles you, decides to take your only weapon.”

“Not my only weapon. I still have plenty of time to distract him.”

Eddie squints at him, just as suspicious as the guard in their game.

“Roll for-”

“Persuasion, right?” Steve interrupted.

“Sure. Roll for persuasion, Stevie,” Eddie pretended not to be flustered at Steve remembering aspects of the game.

“18!” Steve yelled. “Plus the 13. So that’s…” he held his hand up while he thought about it. “31!”

Everyone at the table cheered except for Eddie.

He knew what was coming.

“I offer to let the guard check me for weapons in private if he’s still suspicious. I tell him it’s better to take all my clothes off where he can do something about it.”

Eddie hated what was happening.

He hated that he could feel how red his face was, and how much Steve was thriving off of putting Eddie off of his own game.

He hated the way the guys were all watching, literally holding their breath for Eddie’s reaction.

“The guard decides to lead you past the gate, but instead of taking you to the entrance to the castle, he leads you down a side road. It leads to a small cottage, and you start to worry that your party won’t find you.”

Steve doesn’t even hesitate.

“I let him lead me where he wants. I can take it.”

Eddie is going to die. Right here.

Steve knows what he’s doing, what he’s saying.

He knows what he is doing to Eddie.

And, okay, maybe they haven’t talked about it, maybe they’ve both been avoiding the very obvious tension between them for months. Maybe Eddie could have taken a chance any of the times they’ve been alone lately to finally talk about it.

Or maybe Steve would just keep flirting with him through this stupid game until Eddie couldn’t even do what he needed to do.

And everyone around them would just get to watch it unfold.

Jeff, his only friend at the moment, cleared his throat and decided to speak up.

“I think the rest of the party should follow. Just in case he needs backup. Guys?”

Thank God for Jeff.

It continues, the rest of the party finds a way to get past the guards, and Eddie admits to himself that he’s making it easier on purpose.

He wants, no, needs this game to end.

And he gets his wish ten minutes later when the phone rings and it’s Dustin, begging for a ride.

Eddie ignores the fact that he called his trailer knowing Steve would be here already, but the rest of the group doesn’t.

While Steve is on the phone, they all quietly tease Eddie.

“If I knew Steve would fluster you this much, I think we would have invited him a long time ago,” Grant said.

“Yeah, we probably would’ve had much easier campaigns if he joined in high school,” Gareth added.

“Yeah? Next time you all get to die, how about that? Terrible, bloody deaths. Gareth gets tortured.”

Before any of them could answer, Steve came into the room, looking a bit sad.

“Sorry about this guys. I couldn’t really come up with a reason that I couldn’t go without giving it away what I was doing. We could pause and come back to it later?”

Eddie knew the guys would be fine with just calling it here; They’d managed to get far enough along that they knew it would have been a good win for them.

“Nah, you did good. Maybe you can join us for real after Dustin’s birthday campaign,” Jeff said.

Steve beamed back at him.

“Maybe, yeah. If you guys are cool with it.”

Was he…shy?

He was just flirting up a storm! Absolutely taking the lead in a game he’d never played before! And now he was being shy?

“Hell yeah!” They all agreed.

Great, Steve was making friends with his friends.

“Alright!” Steve clapped his hands together. “I’m off to get the kid. Thanks guys!”

He started to leave, but stopped by Eddie.

Then his lips were on the top of Eddie’s head.

“Bye guys!” He said as he continued to walk out.

Eddie’s eyes were wide, unblinking. The guys were all staring at him with the same wide, unblinking eyes.

The front door to the trailer closed.

“Uh,” Eddie said.

“Did he-”

“He just-”

“On your head.”

“Uh.”

The front door opened.

Steve was standing in the doorway to the kitchen area, eyes wide, unblinking.

“Did I-”

“Uh huh,” Eddie answered.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that…okay?”

He was looking nervously between the guys and Eddie, like he expected someone to punch him.

“Oh! Yeah. No, they’re good. Um. Did you want to kiss me?”

“Yeah. I kinda…always do?”

“Always?”

“Yes. It’s kind of all I think about.”

Eddie took it all back; This was the best and he had never been happier that Steve wanted to play D&D.

He didn’t even care about the guys watching as he stood from his chair and walked to Steve in the doorway.

“Me too.”

He pulled Steve against him, ignoring the whistles and cheers from the table, and kissed him.

The kiss left them both breathless, despite being barely more than a peck.

“Um, I should go get Dustin,” Steve whispered.

“Yeah. Come back after?”

“Will everyone still be here?” Steve asked nervously.

“Nope, just you and me, sweetheart,” Eddie replied.

“Good. I’ll be back soon, then.”

When Steve left, Eddie turned back to the group, lovestruck grin on his face.

“So it’s off the table now, right?” Gareth asked, smirking.

“Shut up.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #request #hellfire club #but without the kids

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 26 days

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I really wanna do something where the reveal rift/post crisis stuff and the harunel serum coincide. With some witchery and Red Daughter thrown in for flavor. Its been percolating for a little bit, and since I'm trying to focus on the firefighter cop au, I'm going to word vomit some stuff here to get it out of my brain.

Basically, Lena and Kara have their falling out, and Kara leaves Lena to be a villain. Except Non Nocere doesn't happen and Lena just wants to get on top of her shit again. Like, Lex is a dick who doesn't deserve to be alive, so why would she just sit there and suffer his smarminess? She's not on his side, she's not on Supergirl's side-- she's on her own damn side.

Except Lex anticipates that, so he has Otis grab her and he sticks Lena in a Kaznian lab where they're experimenting with the harun-el serum, trying to see if they can use it to imbue humans with kryptonian powers without sacrificing control or turning them into monsters, right? It involves long and slow exposure, so they strap Lena down, stick her full of needles, and get to work.

But Red Daughter finds out, and though Lex gives her some bullshit about trying to help Lena, she doesn't quite buy into it. She can't bring herself to act directly against Lex, but she can't stand by while Lena is in agony.

So she goes to Mama Luthor.

Posing as Kara Danvers, she pointedly asks Lillian if she knows what Lex is doing, or what he has planned. She asks Lillian if she knows where her daughter is.

Which is how Lillian discovers that Lena is no longer in National City, and she tracks her children down to the Kaznian lab. She finds her way in and locates Lena-- and she is horrified by what she sees. Lena strapped to a table with a dozen needles puncturing into deep tissue, drugged and groggy and helpless. She's there when the next round of injections hits, and sees the agony as Lena screams and struggles against her bonds.

When the effects fade enough for Lena to go slack, Lillian immediately gets to work freeing her. She helps Lena off the table and supports her all the way back to helicopter she arrived in, shooting down any guard who tries to get in their way.

Lillian only knows one place Lena might be safe from Lex-- the Tower. The Superfriends open their pounding door to find Lillian standing there with Lena all but unconscious against her. Kara is of course horrified, and brings them in immediately. When she asks what happened, Lillian snaps "maybe you should tell me, Supergirl, as it was you who brought the situation to my attention."

Kara is utterly confused. "What? I haven't seen since before the end of the world" etc. Lillian glares at her.

"Well if it wasnt you, who was it?"

At that point, Red Daughter touches down on the balcony.

"It was me."

----

Once Red Daughter explains what she knows, they hunker down and wait for Lex. Its not long before a situation pulls them all from the Tower, and only when its over do they realize it was a ploy to get Lena alone.

They rush back to the Tower to find Lex's helicopter on the roof, and two goons already in the process of dragging a limp, hooded Lena to the waiting chopper while Lex oversees the operation from inside his Lexosuit. He is not at all surprised-- or concerned-- to see them.

He holds them all at bay while the helicopter takes off with Lena inside it. But as the aircraft rises higher into the sky, a strange pressure starts to build. Suddenly, a flash of purple heat vision slices through the helicopter from the inside out. It starts to spiral toward the ground, its crash inevitable.

"Go!" Kara shouts to Red Daughter, who zips over and manages to snatch Lena from the helicopter before it hits the ground. She lands with Lena cradled in her arms, except Lena is no longer limp-- no longer helpless.

Rising slowly, the odd pressure in the air continues to build as Lena opens her eyes to reveal her green eyes have gone completely black. Around her, every loose pebble, twig, and gravel on the roof starts to shake, humming with that same pressure. The detritus on the roof starts to lift into the air, hovering from thousands of invisible strings-- the strange energy charging the air is clearly coming from Lena.

She turns towards her brother, who has paused in his struggle against Supergirl to watch the pinnacle of his creation. It's strange, though-- matter manipulation wasn't a reported effect of the harun-el.

Just as he sees the moment of Kara's similar distraction for Lena, Lex turns and winds back to strike. The energy in the air seems to snap, and every bit of floating debris shoots straight towards Lex, with enough force to pierce skin and hull alike. It shreds the lexosuit to gaping, jagged metal-- but thats not enough.

The energy in the air starts to build again, but this time it's centered directly overtop Lex, pressing down and down until metal groans and rends, and Lex starts to heave for breath under the immense pressure.

That's when Kara comes back to herself. "Lena! Lena, stop!"

Lena doesn't seem to hear. All of her attention is on Lex, and when Kara edges closer, she sees that in the center of Lena's black eyes, purple irises glint expressionlessly in the sun.

"Lena, listen to me! I know you're in there! Please, you don't want to do this."

Kara moves to stand between Lena and her brother, intent on breaking Lena's intense eye contact with Lex, but Lena's head tilts to maintain it. Only then does Kara risk reaching out to touch her, turning Lena's face to look at her instead.

"I know you're in there," Kara says firmly. "And I need you to listen to me. Killing him might be the answer-- but it doesn't have to be *your* answer. This choice will destroy. It already almost did. So I am asking you, as my friend, to stop."

The last causes Lena to falter. She blinks, and Kara hears Lex gulp down a large breath as the pressure eases slightly. That's it.

"Yes," Kara coaxes. "Come on. Come back to us. Come back to me, Lena. Please."

Slowly, the black in Lena's eyes fade to their natural whites-- but the purple remains. Behind Kara she hears the Lexosuit clang uselessly againsy the roof as it collapses, Lex still trapped inside as he wheezes. Lena stares at Kara, blinking almost drunkenly in the sun.

"Kara..."

Kara issues a tearful laugh of relief, and throws her arms around Lena, hugging her close.

"Yes," she says, her chin wobbling. "I'm here, Lena."

Lena slowly lifts her arms to embrace her back, still dazed.

"Thank you," Kara murmurs. "Thank you for hearing me."

#supercorp #harunel meets red daughter meets rift meets witch #bc what would have happened if Lenas witchiness had interacted with the harunel serum #i have questions #i wanna explore this #just dunno when #im posting and then putting a reblog in my drafts to come back to later

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