Tumgik
#posting this only as a warning to anyone else
luffington · 2 days
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young master ♡
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➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)
➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader
➤ word count: 3.7k
➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling
➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3
NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu
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Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.
Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!
You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult. 
The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you. 
You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned. 
You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.
You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.
A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”
Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”
He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”
“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.” 
“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”
Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you. 
“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them. 
“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”
Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?
He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it. 
He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’. 
Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.
“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl. 
“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid. 
“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”
Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”
His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you. 
They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.
“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”
The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his. 
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind. 
You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.
“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again. 
“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip. 
You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core. 
Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants. 
He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”
“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”
“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later. 
A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more. 
Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.
His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.
“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”
“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.
“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”
“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.
“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”
You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.
You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”
Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.” 
“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.
Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”
A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.
“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.
You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.
“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”
A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet. 
“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”
“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”
Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy. 
But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness. 
Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.
“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix. 
“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”
“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.” 
You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss. 
He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.
“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer. 
You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname. 
He came hard. 
The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down. 
Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension. 
Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering. 
You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”
Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles. 
“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”
The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose. 
“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”
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209 notes · View notes
Note
PLEASE POST THE IZZY PART FOR THE NO NUT NOVEMBER
A/n: Only one more of these to make B). This was going to be much shorter but it felt weird to make one really short when the other's are longer so I just kept going and I like this ending much more than the other one and I hope you agree, Izzy lovers are honestly the best kinds of people.
Warnings: smut, oral sex(f+m receiving), fingering(f receiving), degradation, drugs, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy :3
Intro
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Izzy left the studio with not much care. So long as he wasn’t the first out no one would care, right? Besides, all he really wanted was to stir the pot as per usual, and he did it like a pro. That’s all there was to it. He went on with his business and didn’t think too much about it.
Or so he thought.
He wasn’t doing anything with anyone, staying home more often than not and if he wasn’t he was getting cracked out of his mind at parties where that’s all anyone was doing, no one was getting ready for some action.
His stash was running low so he invited some people over, hoping to fix off of them. When people started showing up and getting loaded he happened to notice someone he’d never seen before.
He asked around and someone eventually gave him something. A friend of a friend of a dealer. Izzy didn’t think too much of it, someone else just trying to get high like him, what’s there to it?
Only, he kept catching her watching him.
At some point he’d gone to the bathroom to snort something alone. He’d just started when you came in and closed the door behind you. He gave you a look. “Sorry, I’m not sharing.” He mumbled.
“I’m not into that stuff.” You responded as he snorted another line. He looked back up at you with a confused expression.
“Then why are you here?” You shrugged and looked up to the fluorescent lighting.
“I’m into other stuff.” Izzy nodded.
“Smack?” He asked, looking at your arm for any track marks. “Heroin?” You took a step closer to him. “Come on, give me a hint, at least.” He asked with a wonky smile. You chewed your cheek and dropped to your knees, looking up at him with innocent starry eyes.
When Izzy saw that he was reminded of the bet. Now, he wasn’t ready to say no to a face like that but he wasn’t ready to forfeit either. Tough decision.
“Sorry, I can’t, my friends and I have this bet-”
“What kind of bet?” You interrupted.
“To see who can last the whole month without, like, doing anything.” He chuckled to himself at how stupid it sounded in his mind.
“Would you be the first one out?” Izzy let out a heavy breath at that and shook his head. All he wanted was to stir the pot and not be the last one out, right now it was just him and Slash. Oh shit, he was in the finals! He hadn’t thought about it that way. “Then what’s the big deal?” Izzy sucked his bottom lip and stared down at you, trying to think through the haze in his mind.
You stayed on your knees, looking up at him and watching for a reaction as you lifted up his shirt. Just enough so you could see his happy trail and press your plush lips to his abdomen. That pretty much killed any thought Izzy had against this.
As you kissed him he undid his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers, hitting you in the face with his dick. You happily took the tip into your mouth and started swirling your tongue around it while your hand came up to stroke him.
He was already leaning against the counter behind him for stability when you took more of him into your mouth, getting yourself used to him hitting the back of your throat before taking him all in your mouth, gagging slightly on his length.
Izzy’s head was thrown back  in pleasure as your head bobbed up and down on him. You started touching yourself through your clothes, getting off on Izzy’s pleasure. When you started moaning around his member he couldn’t help cum, the vibrations sent him over the edge. He grabbed you by the back of the head  and pulled you down on him as he shot his load down your throat, guttural groans slipping past his lips.
When he was done he let go of you and let you pull away to catch your breath. You wiped your mouth and chin of the drool that had slipped out the corners of your mouth.
Izzy tilted your head up with a finger under your chin. “Did you swallow it all?” He asked with a lazy grin. You smiled up at him and opened your mouth wide to show you had. “Good girl.”
Having lost the bet already there was no point in looking back now. He gestured for you to get up and you did, now standing in front of him. He brought his hand to your waist and guided you to the counter where he could bend you over, lifting your skirt over your ass to give him a perfect view of you.
You were wearing a thin pair of panties and fishnet stockings. Izzy admired you for a moment before gripping the fishnets and snapping the weak threads holding them together, making a bigger opening for him. He pinned your panties to the side and thrust into you, your cunt already soaked.
He waited a moment, taking in how hot you felt wrapped around him, the face he could see you making in the mirror. He started moving, watching your face for a reaction he liked and when he saw one he knew to keep hitting that spot.
Of course it had your mind running miles a minute. The way his tip kissed that perfect spot inside you that had you seeing stars over and over again. His hold on your hips was tight, sure to leave bruises for you to look back on with fond memories.
Your favourite were the soft grunts and groans you’d hear in your ear. Heavy breaths mixed with the occasional moan. He was watching you in the mirror but you were also watching him as his head rolled back, you’d catch glimpses of his eyes crossing before he shut them tight.
Izzy took a hand off your hip to turn your face towards him so he could kiss you. His tongue slipped past your lips with ease. Your moans fell onto his lips as you came hard around him, slick dripping down between your thighs. The way you clenched around him was the last straw for him and he came again inside of you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you impossibly closer to him.
“Fuck.” Izzy breathed, kissing you one last time before pulling away and watching his cum ooze out of you. He dropped to his knees and started lapping at your folds.
“Fuck!” You squeaked and tried to push his head away but he didn’t budge. “Izzy! Izzy, s’too much.” You whined. He responded with a harsh slap on your ass, leaving a pink mark. He continued eating you out like his life depended on it, sucking every ounce of your dignity you had as you watched yourself in the mirror. Your face contorting in pleasure, your hips bucking back to meet his face.
He pushed a skilled finger into you, making you cum with only a few pumps as he hit that same special spot every time and sent you over the edge.
“You’re such a bitch, you know that?” He mumbled as he stood up again behind you, now holding you and resting his head on your shoulder. “Sneaking into my house, getting me into the bathroom, sucking me off when I told you I couldn’t...” He had this smirk as he spoke, it was tired but carried a very needed amount of teasing.
“You could’ve stopped me if you wanted to.” You replied in an equally tired manner, leaning back on him slightly.
“I didn’t want to.” He said firmly, giving your neck a soft kiss.
68 notes · View notes
eetherealgoddess · 23 hours
Note
Can you make a fem reader whose is a martial artist with a yan bonten but she doesn’t let them get her easily
ik it's been a while y'all but don't worry bc i will be getting through your requests!!
idk much about martial arts so I’m just gonna do my best with the fighting scene. hope you enjoy!
also, why am i more inclined to write when i’m high 😩
ꨄFight For Your Lifeꨄ
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Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au
❦You’ve been on the run from your childhood friends❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
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Not fully proofread
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Fight For Your Life
The platforms of your shoes slap against the wet concrete, puddles of water splashing as you ignore the rain falling on your skin. Your bloody clothes hugging against your body uncomfortably as the street lights glow amongst the dark sky, the empty buildings sitting under as you run past with squinted eyes. Your lips are apart as you take in quick breaths, though you tried to keep the panting steady. The adrenaline running through your veins made it easier to ignore the goosebumps caused by the cold air hitting your dermis and the red liquid running down your nose.
You didn’t know how long it had been since you ran from your totaled car. It was amazing how you slipped away, not expecting the driver of the car to have died on impact. You knew exactly who sent the sheep, snarling as you remember the men you couldn’t seem to escape for long. Although you made it far enough to stay in a motel a great distance away from Japan, you still had a long way to go.
I’m so tired of this shit.
It’s frustrating having to travel from place to place, continuously spending a limited amount of money just to be free from the grasp of the yakuza. If you would’ve known that you would be abducted as an adult by your childhood friends who disappeared without any warning, you wouldn’t have become close to them in the first place. To have been so devoted to them and the rest of the gang, only for them to abandon you and reappear without warning, snatching you up and treating you as property rather than a person, murdering most of your loved ones without a care of how that could affect you. Not only is the situation painful but demeaning. How could they treat you like that? No explanation for the disappearance nor the behavior, not that you needed it. Who they are now explains everything you need to know.
Ignoring the tightness of your chest became harder as you slowed your pace, halting your movements before bending over, hands on your knees. You gripped the fabric of your pants as your eyes closed, head dropping as you struggled to steady your breathing. Your tears of frustration mix with the droplets of rain, finally lifting your body and rubbing your sleeve against your eyes, only for the moisture to return.
Your eyes widen as bright lights flash behind you before you swiftly turn your body to face the car speeding toward you. The loud engine roars as the vehicle darts down the hill through the fog. You search around your surroundings for a good hiding spot amongst the empty stores. You huff before running behind a structure closest to you. You find a dumpster, cursing as you open it and climb in, ignoring your discomfort for bacteria as you cover your nose and close yourself into the darkness, praying to not feel anything crawling on you as you rub your face with both hands, smearing the blood from your nose.
You breathe in through your nose and release from your mouth, ignoring the overwhelming stench as you listen for anyone close. The pouring rain made it difficult to hear any footsteps if someone were to walk near. You closed your eyes as you pant into your cupped hands quietly. You patiently stay in your spot for what feels like a while, planning to hide in the dumpster all night long if you have to. The phone you bought when you ran from Bonten was lost in the wreck, hidden behind the broken machinery and shattered glass so you had no way to contact anyone to help, not that you knew anyone. You also didn’t know if the police would help you anyway considering Bonten has some of them wrapped around their fingers.
The top of the dumpster is snatched open, rain pouring as the sound of your screaming covers the droplets landing on the full sacks of trash. You struggle against the hold on your wrist as you’re yanked out of the hiding place, feet meeting the ground.
“The more you struggle the harder this will be for you!” The man growled, attempting to hold you in place. When he pulls you toward him with his grip tightening, you straighten your posture before pulling your head back and slamming it against his forehead causing him to release you as he grabs his head in pain. Running on nothing but adrenaline, you dash away from the man as you ignore the throbbing ache of your head, only to run in the direction of two more men speeding towards you.
“Shit!” You hiss before turning back around.
“Get her idiot or it’ll be our asses!” One of the men exclaimed on his way toward you as he faced the original male whose face is still scrunched in pain.
Just as you were about to pass the man who attacked you, he reached for you in which you dodged before continuing to make your escape. Before you could succeed, you are snatched by the collar of your top and yanked back. You gasp as you feel the sting from the sudden pressure on your neck, though your shock doesn’t last long.
“Gotcha you bit-!” He grunts and bends over, releasing you in the process when you elbow his stomach with as much strength as you could muster, so much so you release your own throated shriek. Before you could run the next man comes forth, pulling his arm back before landing a punch on your cheek. Your face hangs to the side in reflex as your palm immediately meets your cheek, eyes wide as you wince in pain.
Before he could make another move, you use your fist to back hand the man’s face before landing a punch on his cheek with the same arm, his body wobbling back as he tries to keep balance. You shove him just as the third male comes to ambush you from the side, both of you landing painfully on the ground with you at the bottom. The puddle of water mixed with dirt and grime splashes as you thrash in his hold as he grasps your wrists and forces them next to your head, squeezing as you howl in agony.
Seeing an opening all the while your face is scrunched with fresh blood oozing down your cheek, you take the opportunity to knee the man’s midsection. His eyes widen as his grip loosens, mouth hanging open with a silent scream. You make eye contact before shoving him off of you. Before you can pick yourself up, the original man places the platform of his shoe on your stomach before pressing down hard. Your nails claw at his covered ankles as he glares down at you with a smirk.
“Oh? What is this?” You watch as the color drains from the man’s face. Your own eyes widen at the realization that you had just been caught.
Your head slowly turns to the side, your own eyes meeting two pairs of purple orbs. A certain mullet haired man tsked as he stood in place, flicking the cigarette butt from his fingers before lifting the black gun held by his other hand. A blaring shot echoed in the air, your eyelids met just in time before the red liquid could splatter in your eyes.
As a result, a weight was lifted off of your stomach as you opened your eyes, watching as the other two men had an expression of bewilderment, freezing in their spots as they watched the bloody corpse drop to the ground, pieces of the brain and skull lying all around the wet ground. You stare at the situation with wide eyes as you slowly sit up, leaning on your trembling arms as you watch both males take a step back with their hands in surrender.
“Come on boys, don’t cower on us now.” The tall man says, running his fingers through his short streaked hair, a sly smile on his face as his other hand holds the black umbrella both him and his brother stood under.
“Pathetic.” Rin states before he turns on his heel, slowly walking away from the scene, Ran follows alongside. They don’t give you another glance.
Escaping your trance, you went to jump up, only for your arms to be grabbed by the two men. You thrash as your feet lifts from the ground, your biceps slightly sliding against their wet hands as the rain continues pouring. You didn’t stop your struggle even when nearing the familiar black suv that caused your heart beat to accelerate. Sweat mixed with the droplets sliding against your forehead as the pressure in your chest became more prominent the closer you got to your entrapment. You pull your arms with all your might against the growling males’ holds, attempting to use your feet to kick them, only for them to dodge and grips tighten.
“Don’t do this.” You plead, bargaining for your freedom.
“We got no choice, lady.” The guy on your left responded.
“You have to have a wife or daughter or something, guys! Please!” Your eyes burn with moisture caused by frustration, your eyebrows furrow as you glance between the men who hold you.
“Shut up!” The guy on your right hissed. “We’re doing this to keep them safe. Your well being is worth nothing to us so just accept your fate.”
Your head hangs low as you’re dragged to the car, the tinted window rolling down as a blur of white reaches your peripheral, right before the men holding you halt in front of the vehicle. You hear footsteps before a tight grip reaches your chin, forcing you to meet golden eyes that seem to glow through the rainy night. A blonde strand hanging on the left side of his face, the rest of his black locks pulled back in a messy ponytail. His empty orbs bore into you as you seem to internally cower from the strange expression.
Your discomfort increases as time goes on, the sound of the rain hitting the pavement masking the silence as you continue to hold eye contact. The corners of his lips curve upward before you can comprehend his next move. The tight grip released on your left arm before you hear a thud against the ground. Your eyes widened as you eye the injured male, turning your gaze back to the man who gives a sheepish smile, rubbing his bruised knuckles as he chuckled.
“You really know how to make a guy angry, Y/n.” He scratched the back of his neck before looking to the side as his smile dropped. “Running off like that wasn’t cool.”
You scoff before shaking your head angrily. You couldn’t believe his deflecting. They treat you like a pet. It’s degrading and abusive. The lack of respect as close as they were before is disgusting. Before you could respond, the cocking of a gun snatched your attention away from the tiger tattooed male in front of you and towards a certain pink haired man who now stood outside of the car. The barrel of his gun aimed right at your torso, your body tightening as you lose your breath.
His scars stretch as he snarls shifting his aim quickly before pulling the trigger. A loud shot rings out, echoing throughout the empty street. Your breathing slows down as the pounding of your heart is the only sound you can hear, followed by a ringing in your ears as the final grip releases you to the ground. The water pellets fall on your face as you feel pressure on your front as you stare at the sky, a warm liquid forming under your torso as your lips hang slightly apart.
You barely hear the car doors opening as your hearing goes in and out, five figures hovering over you as they observe your figure. Crouching down closest to your face, the platinum haired male who gives you an expression of emptiness uses a hand to caress the left side of your face, thumb tracing your temple. He leans over, his warm breath connecting with your ear.
“If you won’t let me have you, death will.”
As your hearing comes back and vision clears you watch as the men with solemn gazes turn and leave your vicinity. Mikey pulls back before picking himself up and following his men. You listen as you hear footsteps fade and the car doors open and close. The engine roars before they speed away, leaving you on the wet street.
You were in slight shock considering you couldn’t believe you had just been shot. You knew they were capable of it but the thought of yourself being murdered is unsettling. You stay on the ground for a moment, relieving yourself of the panic attack you just had before you slowly sit up and eye your surroundings. Seeing nobody in the area, you look down and pull your shirt up, grabbing the busted sack that once held fake blood from your cushioned vest. Staring at the sack you took a deep breath before releasing.
This is perfect because now they think I’m dead.
Although you were surprised about the gunshot, you wore a bulletproof vest, along with the fake blood sacks since you had escaped because you knew that there was a chance you might die trying to leave them. Your hands couldn’t help the trembling as you eyed the bloody puddle under you. Seeming to escape the trance, you hopped up from your seat and began to walk in the opposite direction from where you came.
The car’s atmosphere was thick with tension and grief. Although all the men held the same stoic and zoned out expression, their emotions were going haywire with their decision to kill you. Do they regret it? No. They don’t regret it as your punishment nor as a blockage for you to be able to move on without them. Do they wish you had just listened so it wouldn’t come to this? Indeed. Kazutora wipes the stray tear as his head turns to the side, eyebrows furrowed as he leans back in his seat with crossed arms and a crossed leg. Sanzu slowly cleans the gun used to take your life, wiping in slow yet rough strokes, all the while trying to focus on everything but the memory of your body landing on the ground. Now that his anger was gone, he lacked the adrenaline he had originally.
The Haitani brothers sit next to each other in the back of the black suv, Ran smoking a cigar with a tired expression as well as Rin removing a flask from his suit’s jacket and throwing his head back for a good sip. Mikey sat in the passenger’s seat, eyeing through the windshield with nothing but an empty void filling the inside of his chest. He feels nothing and everything at the same time. You used to be so close to all of them. It was a shame but he knew that he couldn’t allow you to live without him. You chose this. This is your fault.
A sudden ringing interrupts everyone as Mikey grabs the phone and hands it to Kakucho who uses one hand to direct the wheel.
“Hello?”
“You what?!”
Everyone’s eyebrows furrow at his reaction. He lowers the phone before handing it to Mikey with a concerned expression. Mikey sets the phone on his ear as he listens to the other person.
“Boss, her body is gone. She’s nowhere to be found.” Kokonoi says as he crouches down to get a closer look at the busted sack. Using a gloved hand to pick it up before it hangs from his fingers and the remaining liquid leaks.
“I have a feeling she faked her death and has escaped.”
Mikey stares ahead with a more focused expression, his eyes slightly wider than usual as he narrows his gaze.
“Find her, now.”
You eye the two lines with wide eyes. Your hands tremble as your fingers barely hold up the test.
“I-I’m pregnant?!” You hiss. You hop from the toilet and slam open the stall door, tossing it into the trash before walking to the sink and recollecting your memory as you try to search for how this could’ve happened because you genuinely had no remembrance of any sexual encounter in the last few months.
“I-I can’t feel…” The tingling in your limbs causes them to limp as you attempt to move your body around, though hands around your wrists prevent you from budging. Legs sit in between yours as the person on top of you leans over to your ear.
“How much of a dosage did you give her this time, Sanzu?” Kazutora asks before he licks a slow trail from your neck to your ear. You squirm under him as you try to find an escape before your body slightly shuts down and you become still as your eyes become heavier.
“G-guys…” You whisper, trying to come back to reality as you feel him adjust on top of you. Your mouth hangs open in a silent grunt as you feel a firm pressure enter your vagina.
“Enough.” The blue eyed male responds while rubbing his thumb along your forehead, taking in your scrunched nosed expression as Kazutora slowly thrusts into you.
“Fuck.” He whispers as he pressed his cock against your cervix, holding it there as his hands snake to the back of your head and neck, squeezing before he pulls his hips back to repeat the same process.
You shut your eyes tight as the girth stretches you, a stinging sensation surrounding your core before your pussy engulfs his cock perfectly. The pain switched to a conflicting pleasure that your own drugged body couldn’t handle. Your head falls back as Sanzu leans over and pulls you into a heated kiss, while Kazutora holds you tightly, his head on the other side of your neck as he accelerates his pace, hips rocking in a steady rhythm purposefully aiming deep against your g-spot.
Ran watched the display to the side with his brother, enjoying the show as they patiently waited for their turn with Bonten’s signature doll. He man - spreads while sitting with his arms resting against the top of the sofa, one arm slightly behind Rin who has his arms crossed. Both brothers ignore their erections as their pants become tighter, listening to the sounds you make as well as the juices colliding.
Mikey sits in a chair, similar to a throne next to the sofa, eyeing the session with his legs spread, leaning over to where his arms rest on his legs. From this angle, you both make eye contact when Sanzu pulls back.
“P-please stop!” You whine out as tears fall, hoping for Mikey to take control of the situation. Unfortunately, the only response you get are Sanzu’s thumbs smearing your tears and groaning from Kazutora in your ear.
Suddenly, he stops his thrusting and pulls back. He sets your legs on his shoulders as he looks down at you with a glazed over expression, red covering his face along with sweat as he repositions himself before leaning over your thighs and thrusting hard. His pace accelerates once more as he brings you both closer to your release. His forehead rests on yours as he thrusts his hips rhythmically against you. His cock slides in and nearly out of your walls as the head kisses your g-spot repeatedly.
“You're taking his cock so well, sweet girl.” The pink haired male whispers against your ear before nibbling the lobe, his hand sliding on your chest towards your neck before circling his fingers around the surface and slightly squeezing. The stimulation becomes too much, the sensation overwhelming as it mixes with the effects of the drug. Your hips meet his deep thrusts as you cry out.
“So. *thrust* Fucking. *thrust* Good, baby.” Kazutora’s raspy soft spoken words meet your ear as his eyes bore into yours. Biting his lip, he watches as your hands meet his chest as his grip tightens on your legs, along with the thrusts forcing you into having a violent orgasm along with sending him into his own as he moans out your name and his hips move sloppily, riding out both of your orgasms as sweat drips from your skin.
Your hand shakily reached your mouth as you recall when they would drug you up and proceed with sexual acts against your will. You have no clue which of them would even be the father. You knew you had to figure something out but you just didn’t know what. You quickly leave the public restroom and ask to use the cashier’s phone. Once you dial the number, you set it to your ear.
“Draken? C-can you please help me?”
“Ugh, girl come here!” You sigh as you eye the mess left from the little devil.
“What is this?” You question your child, eyeing her golden eyes as you point at the red paint that spilled all over your carpet.
“U-uh, I don’t know mama.” The eight year old responds with a cheeky smile. You shake your head, irritated because of the mess but you breathe out a sigh considering the paint is washable and will be able to be cleaned.
“Yeah, okay. You’re gonna help me clean this up.” You shake your head as your daughter nods. You chuckle to yourself before stating, “And don’t try to lie to me anymore, I can see right through you.”
Your daughter shrugs before leaving to grab some of the supplies. You couldn’t believe how much she grew to look like Kazutora. It was haunting and hard to deal with at times but she had nothing to do with it so the love for your child was enough distraction from how she was created. Before you could follow and help her, you heard a knock on your door. Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting anyone to have appeared so you ignore it.
Once the knocks stop, the ringing of your phone catches your attention. You snatch the device from your pocket and lift it to your ear.
“Hello?” You say to the unknown number.
“You have something of mine, and I’ve come to get it.” Before you could react, your windows were shattered as you crouched down and covered yourself. Immediately going into action, you run to the storage closet in the hallway to grab your child.
“Mama?” She cries out in surprise at the commotion.
“We have to go now!” You snatched her with one hand and pressed a contact with another.
“D-Draken! They broke i-!” Before you could finish, the phone was knocked out of your hand and you were forced to the ground, releasing your child in the process as she’s snatched by a person you hadn’t wanted to see.
“Awe, you really do have my eyes.” Kazutora says warmly with a smile as he holds your child in his arms, the poor girl crying in confusion and fear.
You're cuffed before you’re forced to stand up and face five of the men you never wanted to see.
“M-Mikey, please! She needs me! Don’t t-take her from me!” You yell in hopelessness, the tears falling uncontrollably as you watch Kazutora caress your daughter’s hair. The leader only stares down at you before turning on his heel and walking away, motioning for the other men to snatch you and follow.
“Wow, Y/n. You know, you really had us fooled.” Rin says as he grabs one arm. Ran stands on the other side and mimics his brother’s hold on the opposite arm.
“It’s silly really. We knew only an hour after you escaped and followed you up until this point.”
“You should be thanking the king for not killing you on the spot.” Sanzu growls with his head turned slightly back to make eye contact with you.
“On the bright side we can all be a family, now.” Kazutora beamed.
Truth be told though they would never say it out loud, they were all thankful that you hadn’t actually died. They found it humorous that you thought you could escape their radar at all. Now having been caught, you could only stare ahead, in hopes that if you comply, you could possibly come up with a plan to safely take your child and completely leave your past behind.
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silenzahra · 3 days
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Luigi the Bookworm 📚✨
Today, April 23rd, we celebrate Book Day in Spain with a beautiful tradition: gifting books and roses. In the past few months, I've started to see Luigi, my favorite Mario character, as a bookworm, thanks to some art pieces like this one, by Mikis_art94 on Instagram, and this one, a short comic by Sarahsketckesluigi, also on Instagram.
And, since I'm also a bookworm myself, I thought of celebrating this day by sharing with you my own take on Luigi's bookish side 🤭 Warning: this is gonna be LONG, so make sure to grab some drinks and snacks and make yourselves comfortable! 💖
(Also, I may go and turn some of these into actual fanfics at some point because, well... I got myself inspired 👀🤭✨)
Please go and check this amazing post by @itsavee4117! It's a companion to this one and you can see many of my headcanons illustrated in his lovely art style!!! 📚💖
@bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @peaches2217 @nuctoria @keakruiser
@pepperycar @kelbreyworshipper @roscolate and anyone else who might be interested: I hope you enjoy! Happy Book Day! 📚🥀✨
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Part 1: Luigi's Bookish Side
Luigi is a person who tends to get excited easily, and when he does, he experiences those feelings with great intensity. This applies to all aspects of his life, and reading, one of his greatest passions, is no exception.
In terms of genres, Luigi is generally open to read anything. He enjoys realistic novels, historical novels, classic novels, mystery novels, sci-fi novels... And he also reads books about gardening, cooking, baking and mechanics from time to time. The only things he’s unable to consume are thrillers and horror. He's tried, but, with all the times he's had to face King Boo, he's had more than enough terror and frights to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.
His favorite genres are fantasy and romance. The former, because traveling to made-up worlds allows him to forget about his real-life problems and offers him an escape from his daily life, which can often be exhausting. The second, because he’s a complete romantic who loves to see people loving each other and living happily ever after. And also... because of something that has to do with Daisy.
Luigi lives every book he reads with the same intensity. For him, it's as if the characters really existed, as if they were his friends, people he can talk to, share common interests with, and also help to achieve their purposes in life (i.e. in the books they’re from).
And maybe... just maybe... he's fallen in love more than once while reading and now he has a loooong list of literary crushes thet only keeps growing.
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So, when he’s reading, Luigi laughs with the characters, cries when one of them suffers or dies, his heart tearing in his chest, and is deeply moved every time a tender moment occurs, such as a kiss, a hug or a cute scene involving, for example, a baby or an animal.
His favorite stories are those about siblings. Not only because he enjoys reading family stories, but also because, without even thinking about it, he often finds it easy to put himself in the place of the younger sibling. For him, therefore, it’s as if he were reading a story starring himself and his beloved brother Mario, and he loves to imagine that they’re going on adventures together in an unknown world. Almost like when they first arrived in the Mushroom Kingdom.
Over the years, Luigi has gathered quite a collection of books, so Mario, the moment they move into the little house in the Mushroom Kingdom that Peach offered them, doesn't hesitate to suggest to his brother that he use the extra room to build himself a small library. Luigi is not too sure at first, thinking that maybe his brother would like to have an office, but Mario insists.
So Luigi has a small library in his new home, which he soon fills to the top with books, and it’s his pride and joy. He and Mario assembled the bookshelves together, which they brought all the way from Brooklyn, and now Luigi has a wonderful reading nook where he can isolate himself to let his imagination run wild for hours. It is, along with the bedroom he shares with Mario, his favorite room in the whole house.
For Luigi, reading is something so important, meaningful and almost sacred in his life, that he has a whole ritual that he performs every time he sits down to read. He has a rocking chair in his small library, a present from his brother when they moved to live in the Mushroom Kingdom, and he has it placed right next to the window and in front of the fireplace. He likes to be able to see the sky when he looks up from his reading, and he usually stares at the clouds or the stars while he daydreams about or reflects on what he has just read. During the summer, he usually keeps it open, as he loves to read in natural light while the gentle breeze from Peach's land cools him, and in winter he keeps it firmly closed while the fireplace warms him.
Luigi loves to light a scented candle to help him get in the perfect mood for reading. His favorite scent is vanilla, as it reminds him of his favorite princess, but he also loves lavender and cinnamon. He usually makes himself a hot drink, sometimes tea, sometimes chocolate, and brings a nice blanket to warm up, which is why his favorite time to read is the coldest time of the year, especially autumn. He also prepares his set of post-its to mark his favorite sentences and parts of the book, and he has a ritual for colors too: yellow for funny moments, blue for sentences that make him reflect on them, red or pink for romantic scenes…
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Luigi knows that there are many people who write directly in their books, but, for him, that is unthinkable. He sees books as a valuable and precious object, a repository of stories that helps him disconnect from reality and let his imagination run wild. He respects what everyone does with their books, but he’s simply incapable. Especially if it’s a book he has been given as a gift.
His favorite copies are hardcover, even more so if they include a dust jacket. He treasures all his books with the same affection, but those are undoubtedly his weak point. The most precious of all is a hardcover, dust-jacketed edition of his favorite book, which was a present from Mario, and which also has painted edges.
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Usually, when it's time to read, Mario is either napping, spending quality time with Peach, or doing something else around the house. Polterpup, on the other hand, takes the opportunity to approach his owner and, if it's summer, lie at his feet while he reads. If it's winter, however, Polterpup will jump into Luigi's lap without his permission and cuddle up and fall asleep immediately, before Luigi even has time to recover from the fright and resume reading. (Check out @pepperycar's funny addition to this!)
Luigi is a speed reader. Usually, when he starts reading, he doesn't intend to go too fast. It's just that, after so many years reading, his eyes have acquired an astonishing speed, and he’s able to retain every word in his head despite going through them very quickly. Also, if a book really hooks him, he’s unable to put it down until he finishes it, which has caused him to stay up late several nights and go to work half asleep the next day, but it's always totally worth it. Because of this ability, he can finish books of about 300-400 pages in just a few hours, and sometimes also 500 if he gets caught up completely.
Luigi LOVES to buy books. His favorite visits are to Sarasaland and the bookstore, and he also does a lot of online shopping to support small publishers. Every time a new book comes home, he gets excited as if it's the first time, and always asks Mario to please record him while he's unboxing it. Mario unhesitatingly stands on the other side of the camera and makes sure that every shot is perfect and that the book looks great, and Luigi, delighted and grateful, always gives him the tightest and most spontaneous hugs every time they finish filming.
And, of course, once he has the book in his hands, Luigi squeals and kicks, excited, as he waves it in the air like maracas before hugging it tightly to his chest. And, when the book is a present from someone dear to him, he acts exactly the same, only he ends up crying and thanking again and again the person who gave it to him while, again, he presses the book against himself as if his life depended on it.
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Luigi is VERY much a fan of merchandising. He loves collecting bookmarks, he has such a huge collection that he's had to divide it into several drawers, and every time he’s going to start a new reading, he tends to spend more time deciding which bookmark will be the most suitable than choosing the book itself. He’s also bought a few literary stickers and some printed works of his favorite books, like fanarts of different scenes or characters illustrated by various artists, which he's hung on a corkboard. And, of course, since his books are the most precious thing he has, he’s also bought many literary covers from different small artists' stores, so that he can keep his books well protected when he carries them around.
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Luigi is the kind of person who takes a book with him everywhere. A doctor's appointment? Book in backpack in case the wait gets longer. Public transport? He can't think of a better way to spend it than reading. He even takes them with him when he meets up with Mario, Peach and Toad, just in case his brother and the princess get lovey-dovey, and Toad falls asleep. And, if there's one thing Luigi likes better than sleeping in nature, it's reading in nature.
Part 2: The Reader Brother
Luigi has loved reading since he was very young. When he and Mario were babies, their parents used to tell them a bedtime story, sometimes Pio, sometimes Mia, and Luigi always listened very attentively. He would gawk listening to them and loved how they used to put voices and even recreate some scenes to make them laugh.
Mario also listened very interested, but being a more energetic baby, he used to fall asleep about halfway through the story, with his head resting on Luigi's shoulder and his arm firmly around his brother's waist. Their parents would drool, but they had to continue, for Luigi, even if he was struggling to keep his eyes open, wasn’t going to go to sleep without knowing the ending.
Only then, with a satisfied smile, he would hug his brother back, curl up next to him, close his eyes, and put his thumb in his mouth to get ready for sleep. By then, Mario was completely asleep, clinging to Luigi like a koala to a eucalyptus tree, and their parents had to make great efforts not to melt as they tucked them in and kissed them goodnight.
Since then, both brothers have grown up being great lovers of stories, only that, while Luigi loves books, Mario prefers to consume them in movies or video games. Even so, these are all hobbies that the brothers share, as they love to immerse themselves in a good story that helps them escape from reality for a while.
When Luigi gets emotional about a book he’s reading or has just read, Mario immediately comes to his side to hug and comfort him. He knows that, even if it's fiction, his brother has lived through it all in such a way that his feelings, of sadness, joy or emptiness at having finished a great story, are real and intense. And Mario would never judge him for it.
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Luigi is deeply grateful not only that his brother comforts him, but that he listens to him talk endlessly about what has just happened in the book he’s reading, and even catches his emotions. Mario may not cry, but he feels his brother's sadness as if it were his own. Fortunately, the same thing happens when Luigi is happy or excited because of a book, and even on the few occasions when Luigi has gotten angry with a character, Mario has giggled under his breath before calming him down, because he finds it extremely tender.
Luigi usually goes to the bookstore at least once a week, and Mario, since they were teenagers, has almost always accompanied him. The only exceptions were when Mario was dating Pauline, and Luigi had no problem paying his weekly visit to the bookstore by himself, but, deep down, he missed Mario.
His brother also loves to accompany him, because, despite not being as much of a reader as Luigi, he enjoys watching him go back and forth from one shelf to another, pointing out the books he’s already read and the ones he wants to read. Also, when he gets the chance to buy a new one, Mario is amused to see Luigi picking up one book after another and trying to load them all and then deciding which one to take home.
Of course, Mario immediately offers to help him carry the books so that Luigi can keep picking up more if he wants to, and Luigi appreciates it from the bottom of his heart. And also that, again, Mario listens to him chatting incessantly about why each book has caught his attention and why he has such a hard time making up his mind.
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Mario always tries to guide him in the best possible way: "What do you feel like reading more right now?" "Is it part of a series or is it a standalone?" "Is the sequel already out or would you have to wait?" "Did you like this or that author better?"
And Luigi thanks him deeply for his advice and questions because, that way, he manages to discern which book he really wants to buy that time.
The best way to surprise Luigi, the best birthday and Christmas present, will always be a book. Mario knows this, and that's why he doesn't hesitate to ask his brother to show him his long and endless lists of books he wants to purchase, as well as discreetly taking notes every time he goes to the bookstore with him. Luigi cherishes every book his brother has gifted him like the priceless treasures they are to him.
Sometimes Luigi runs into space problems. Even though his bookshelf is large and spacious, there’s a limit to everything. In those moments when he’s overwhelmed because he doesn't know where to place his new acquisitions, Mario always comes to the rescue: he immediately offers to hang a new shelf on the wall, or to look for another bookshelf to place in some free space in the room, or, directly, he stares at Luigi's shelf with a frown and his hand on his chin for a few moments, before taking the new books from his brother's arms and, displaying his skills playing Tetris, manages to find room to place them.
He loves to do it not only because he enjoys applying in real life what he has learned playing video games, but above all because of the relieved smile that blooms on Luigi's lips when he sees that Mario has found the perfect solution.
Luigi loves going to literary events where he can meet his favorite authors and have his books signed, but he tends to get so nervous that he always gets stuck for words and sweats a lot, which embarrasses him deeply.
The first time, in fact, Luigi was so shocked to have his favorite author in front of him that he fainted. When he woke up in the ambulance, he was so embarrassed that nothing Mario, who, of course, always accompanies him, said succeeded in comforting him.
He only calmed down a bit at home, when, alone with Mario, he began to silently cry without even realizing it, and his brother, not uttering a word, sat down in front of him, worried, and wrapped him gently in his arms. He pressed the back of Luigi's neck softly to make him rest his head on his shoulder and stroked his back gently, his heart aching at each new sob that escaped his brother's throat.
It took him many, many years to convince Luigi to go to an event again, for Luigi feared the same thing would happen to him again. He didn't want to make a fool of himself like that ever again, especially not in front of writers he deeply admires.
So Mario decided that they would practice: he dressed as much as he could like Luigi's favorite author, watched as many videos as he could on the internet to soak up his personality and find out what kind of books they wrote, and pretended to be them again and again, relentlessly, until Luigi, little by little, managed to exchange a few words with him.
It took them many attempts, because, despite knowing it was his brother, Luigi had no trouble getting into the situation due to his overflowing imagination. Mario had to step out of character several times to try to calm him down and help him regulate his breathing.
Luckily, thanks to Mario's efforts, eventually it worked, and Luigi, a few years later, found himself back at an event and able to chat for a few minutes with the writers he read, even though his heart was beating frantically in his chest and excitement was flooding his insides.
He will never be able to thank his brother for his infinite patience, but Mario always plays it down tenderly. He keeps assuring him that it was not patience, but his deep and sincere love for his younger brother and his eagerness to help him fulfill his wishes.
Part 3: Royalty + Luaisy
Ever since the brothers met Princess Peach, she and Luigi have been, little by little, building up a beautiful friendship that grows every day, just like the sweet romantic relationship between her and Mario.
It didn't take long for Peach to discover Luigi's bookish side, and it made her eager and excited, as she has always enjoyed reading and loves to comment on the books she reads in great detail.
So she didn't hesitate to take Luigi to the huge library of her castle, and she smiled, touched, as she saw the amazement with which Luigi observed its towering shelves, turning on himself in the center of the room as he tried to take it all in.
Since then, Peach and Luigi have become reading buddies. The two of them love to immerse themselves in a good story, read together in the castle library while comfortably sipping tea and, of course, comment on what they have just read and exchange views. Luigi even ends up causing Peach to also take a liking to collecting bookmarks and literary merchandising.
They often do joint readings: they discover a book they both feel like reading and set a series of goals to try to read it at the same pace, so they can discuss it as they go along. Sometimes, however, Luigi discovers that Peach hasn't read one of his favorite books, so he doesn't hesitate to read it with her so he can see her reactions, and vice versa. They love to share their anger, their cries and their joys, for it fills their hearts with bliss and emotion that they have someone by their side who understands perfectly well what they’re feeling and why.
They enjoy hearing what this or that scene has made the other feel, or what they think of this or that character, because it helps them to see things from a point of view that, perhaps, they had not considered before. Reading enriches them, but their literary conversations enrich them even more.
And Mario, of course, is delighted that the two most important people in his life have forged such a strong, deep bond and spend so much quality time together, sharing one of their greatest passions. Often, unbeknownst to them, he stands watching them as they read in the library and gets a silly grin on his face when he sees them laughing together after chatting a bit about their readings.
When it comes to Prince Peasley, on the other hand, Luigi is the one who watches him while smiling, mesmerized, as the prince, always so elegant and sophisticated, has an exquisite oratory and knows how to strike the perfect tone every time a character intervenes, and also to confer the right emotion when it comes to the narrator. And Luigi, besides staring at him, enraptured by the fabulousness of his figure, also listens to him spellbound. He would almost say that he enjoys reading more when his beloved prince is the one who narrates, and plays, the stories.
Princess Daisy, due to her energetic nature, is not much prone to reading. She prefers more dynamic activities where she can unleash not only her endless energy, but also her competitive side. Even so, she knows and respects the value of books, having grown up well aware of their importance in safeguarding and protecting the history of her kingdom. (@kelbreyworshipper you may like these ones!)
But when she meets Luigi, she begins to show a slight interest in reading, something that at first was only born so that she could have something to talk to him about. Fortunately, Luigi, despite his initial shyness, doesn't need more than a mention of literature to start talking nonstop about his favorite stories and how much they make him feel. And Daisy, not even realizing it, finds herself listening to him entranced, very attentive to his every word and genuinely understanding why there are people, like Luigi, who find reading so exciting.
Over time, she starts asking him for book recommendations, which he happily obliges, and Daisy discovers that she actually enjoys reading, especially stories with tons of action. Still, what she likes the most about this is Luigi's thrilled and moved expression when he finds out she's actually listened to him, read the book he recommended and, therefore, now they can fangirl together. She falls even harder for him because of the cute little face he makes.
Sensing that her interest in him is growing and that it may be mutual, Daisy decides to invite Luigi to Sarasaland Castle to show him her library. At first she doesn't tell him what she has invited him for, which makes Luigi VERY nervous, as he doesn't know if this is a date or not. She playfully takes him by the hands, leads him to the library doors and asks him to close his eyes. Luigi hesitates a little, unsure, but ends up obeying so as not to disappoint her.
Daisy then opens the library and guides Luigi carefully inside. He almost trips, which makes her laugh, causing him, in turn, to relax a bit. And when she finally tells him to open his eyes, Luigi gasps and his jaw drops, his heart pounding in his chest, not only because that library is even a bit larger than Peach's, but also because, slowly, his mind understands and assimilates that Daisy had prepared this to surprise him.
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And even though he’s fascinated by all the books before him, he ends up, without realizing it, looking at Daisy, with a blushing smile on his flushed face and his hands over his heart, while she explains to him that all those volumes belonged to his ancestors and that he has her permission to come whenever he wants to get them. "They're yours!" she says at last, turning to him, and Luigi's heart grows larger at the offer, causing a tear to escape his eyes as the princess, full of tenderness, smiles at him.
Over the next few days, Luigi goes to the library, encouraged by Daisy, who insists again and again that he come to Sarasaland. Her library has a huge ladder to reach the highest shelves, and Daisy uses it without a second thought to glide across the room, to the terrified gaze of Luigi, who dares not even climb the first rung.
As soon as she notices this, Daisy gets down, walks over to Luigi and takes him by the hand to guide him to the ladder. He almost cringes when she places his hand on the wood and freezes when Daisy encourages him to climb up. "It's completely safe!" she assures him. "And, besides, I'll be right here. You can hold my hand as you climb up. I promise I won't slide you down too fast the first time!"
Very slowly and clinging to Daisy's hand, Luigi climbs up the steps. She doesn't let go and keeps repeating phrases to encourage him, which makes Luigi feel almost as safe as when he is with Mario, though in a different way. Once he reaches the top of the first shelf, however, Luigi is unable to climb any higher, so Daisy doesn't pressure him any further. She gently grasps the lower end of the ladder and, after warning him, moves it a little, very slowly as she promised, to make him feel secure.
The next day, however, Daisy goes up right after Luigi and, leaning into the next bookshelf, pushes as hard as she can to propel the ladder to the opposite side at breakneck speed. Her laughter mingles with Luigi’s screams, but however, once they stop, he discovers that, despite his initial panic, he’s had fun with what Daisy has just done.
This then becomes a regular occurrence between them, until it gets to the point where Luigi feels comfortable and confident enough to climb the ladder by himself and propel himself across the library in true “Beauty and the Beast” style.
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In the kingdom of Sarasaland there’s a tradition to honor books, as they’re not only a source of entertainment, but also the sacred objects that preserve their history. Daisy has grown up with these values and does not hesitate to tell Luigi about this tradition soon after they start dating.
On Book Day, it is customary for the man to give the woman a rose and the woman to give the man a book. This originated many centuries ago, before everything related to gender and relationships evolved, so nowadays, simply put, the members of a romantic relationship give each other both a book and a rose.
Luigi shows up in Sarasaland on the appointed date very nervously, dressed in a smart green suit, his favorite color, and carrying a wrapped book for Daisy, as well as a purple rose, very rare and hard to come by, which he has grown himself in his garden with Peach's help. Daisy greets him in a lovely purple dress, with a vaporous skirt, matching elbow-length gloves and her delicate shoulders bare. She holds out her gift to him almost before he reaches the castle gates and can recover from the amazement of seeing her so dazzling and beautiful.
He’s delighted when, upon opening it, he discovers that it is one of those special editions he’s been looking for for so long. Only Mario knew he wanted it, so he understands, without needing Daisy to tell him, that his brother has given his girlfriend a hand to surprise him. And that makes his heart fill with love and his eyes with tears, and the book even more precious to him.
Daisy excitedly opens her present and, to Luigi's surprise, squeals when she discovers that he’s gifted her a fantasy adventure novel that caught her eye when he first took her to his favorite Brooklyn bookstore. Daisy drags him into the library, invites him to sit down with some drinks (tea for him, a smoothie for her), and asks him to please start reading.
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And so they spend their first Book Day together: settled on Daisy's fluffy library couch, she sat on his lap, the skirt of her purple dress spread over his legs, almost hiding them, and her arms around his neck, depositing light kisses here and there as he struggles to read aloud the book he’s just given her. This was the first time they gave each other a book, but of course it would not be the last, as reading together, visiting the Brooklyn bookstore and Sarasaland and Mushroom Kingdom libraries, and continuing to celebrate Book Day would soon become habit for them.
Daisy often stares at Luigi as he reads, amused by his reactions and the faces he makes, and, when their relationship is more established, she has no qualms about peeping over his shoulder. And Luigi, far from getting angry, what he did the first time and has continued to do ever since is to read aloud, so that she also finds herself immersed in the story without realizing it. (This may sound familiar!)
But what Luigi enjoys the most is that Daisy, whenever the characters in the book share some intimate gesture, instantly replicates it with him. If they hold hands, Daisy immediately reaches for Luigi's hand. If there’s a hug, Daisy wraps her arms around Luigi and holds him tightly, which leaves him breathless, but also makes him laugh and fills his heart with tenderness.
And, of course, if there are kisses, Daisy won't hesitate to start showering Luigi with them. First on his hand, on the tips of his fingers and on his palm. Then on the forehead, with a delicacy that always melts Luigi. His cheeks color every time Daisy places her lips on them, but what drives him absolutely crazy is when she seeks his mouth. It's the only thing that makes him put down the book and postpone reading for another time. (Check out @bberetd's wonderful art for this!)
Often, before they fall asleep, Daisy cuddles up to Luigi in bed, wearing his green shirt, and buries her face in the crook of his neck. Luigi absentmindedly begins to fiddle with her hair, delighted to have her so close, and, with his other hand, reaches for his book to read aloud a few more pages before they fall asleep. It's part of their routine and they both love sharing stories that way.
Part 4: The gang
The visit to the bookstore and libraries has now become a regular occurrence for everyone. As soon as he started talking about books with Peach and she showed him her library, Luigi immediately invited her to come with him and Mario the next time they went to their regular Brooklyn bookstore, and she gladly accepted.
On that first visit by the princess, Peach was as thrilled as Luigi and the two of them went back and forth in the bookstore, she eagerly looking at everything, he endlessly talking about the store and the many books he’s bought there. Soon they found themselves going often to acquire new books, not without first spending a good while in the place accumulating stories in their arms to, again, decide in the end.
Again Luigi was looking for Mario, who, unconsciously, had been staring at them with an amused smile and his eyes full of affection. Blushing, Mario would hurry to come to his side to help him, and Luigi, even though he’d caught him gazing at the princess in rapt attention, wouldn’t comment anything so as not to make him uncomfortable or put any pressure on him.
Many times, however, Peach would intervene and take two of the books Luigi had chosen. That's how she also started giving him books as presents, and Luigi couldn't be more grateful that his beloved friend pampers him that way. Her gesture makes her even more attractive and sweet in the eyes of Mario, who melts at seeing her displaying such adoration towards his beloved little brother.
Daisy, always eager to learn more about the place where her dearest hero in green grew up, also joins in, but, to her surprise, she finds herself next to Mario, fondly watching Peach and Luigi, especially the latter. They, however, are so excited talking about books that they never notice the goofy smiles with which Daisy and Mario look at them, delighted to see their two favorite people indulging in their greatest passion.
Despite this, both Mario and Daisy make sure to pay attention to the books that Luigi and Peach point out with the intention of acquiring them in the future, and then make plans with each other to decide which ones to give them on future birthdays, Christmases and, of course, regular days. Any time is a good time to surprise their favorite people with a new literary gift.
Sometimes, on their dates, Luigi and Daisy also go to the bookstore, and she, as always, listens to him talk very attentively. When it comes to advising him on which book to acquire, however, she’s much more practical: she thinks Luigi should pick the book he wants to read the most… or the one with the most romance in it.
And Luigi blushes violently because he perfectly understands the implications of such a suggestion.
Literary events also end up being a regular thing they all do together. Luigi, thanks to Mario, already manages to control his nerves and chat a bit with the authors when they sign his books. Peach, of course, is all sweetness and always tells them how much their stories have made her feel and dream. Mario just smiles and listens, delighted to be able to accompany them and to see them enjoying themselves so much, right up their alley. He always takes pictures of them with the authors, both together and separately, something he already did when it was just him and Luigi.
Daisy, on the other hand, is so spontaneous and genuine that she doesn't hold back when it comes to treating the writers with too much familiarity, which only embarrasses the others, especially Luigi. If it's the author of a romance book, Daisy doesn't hesitate to cheerfully tell them how much she and her boyfriend enjoyed the sensual and intimate scenes, or that she lost count of how many times she kissed her sweetie during the reading because of the sheer number of times the characters kissed.
In those moments, Luigi can only think of crawling under a rock. He has to resort to all the training with Mario to manage to keep his composure and not faint again or run away to hide so no one sees him turning red as a tomato.
However, then Daisy intertwines her arm with his and kisses him on the cheek, and he feels that his blush, this time, is due to being close to her and to her tokens of affection. After all, Luigi adores everything about his princess, all her sides and her personality, and besides, to other authors, fortunately, Daisy tells them how much fun she and her boyfriend had with their novel, and Luigi can only adore her.
At these events, both Mario and Daisy go out of their way to get lots of bookmarks and merch for Luigi and Peach, as they know they both love to collect stuff related to their favorite books. And also, again, they take mental notes of all the books they can buy as future presents for them.
From time to time, Toad and Peasley also join in on their visits to the bookstore, libraries or events. Toad is a big fan of fantasy and adventure comics, as they nurture his enthusiastic and adventurous spirit, and Peasley loves to talk endlessly with his favorite authors about the various subjects they cover in their books, thus unconsciously displaying, once again, his impeccable eloquence.
I really hope you liked this! I had a blast writing all of this and imagining my favorite characters in the many situations I've experienced myself as a bookworm, as well as adding others I came up with 🥰
Plase feel free to add your comments and feedback, and also headcanons if you have a few of your own! And if by any chance this inspires you to create your own stuff, I'd be more than honored 😭 All I ask is to please give credit! 🙏💖
Before I leave, please remember to check @itsavee4117's blog today! You won't regret it 🤩📚✨
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cottonlemonade · 10 hours
Text
A Simpler Life [Part 1]
word count: 1585 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.
pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn
warnings: spoilers
synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.
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When you decided on a clean break and moved to the little country home, you finally got your long harbored wish of a manageable veggie patch as well as a few fruit planters, breathing clear fresh air that the city life had you only dream about for so many years. At first, of course, the people were suspicious of the newcomer - the foreigner-city girl who came to their part of Hyogo with no clear intention but when you greeted each of them warmly around town and offered an open door if anyone ever needed help, they soon treated you as one of their own. The grandmothers of the neighborhood soon kept an eye out for any eligible bachelors because “it‘d be such a shame if a pretty girl like ya would be all lonesome in that house of yers“ but while grateful for their concern, you were happy on your own.
Although, that didn‘t stop you from falling for your neighbor as soon as you met him.
Your first impression of Kita was that he was polite, caring and warm but maybe a bit shy. He bowed his head with a smile when he passed by your front yard in the evening heading to his house, looking exhausted but satisfied. You wondered if he lived alone, too, because no one else seemed to be going in or out of the modest traditional nouka.
You were privately looking forward to the evenings when you could catch a glimpse of him and bask even for just a second in the sunshine of his smile.
This went on for a week or so of you two simply exchanging nods, waves and smiles until, “Good evenin‘.“, he greeted.
The buzzing of cicadas filled the air. You were tending to your garden, having opted to weed in the milder evening rather than the afternoon sun. A straw hat on your head, muscles already straining from the unfamiliar work, you straightened, trying to suppress a groan. “And to you.“, you replied, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, smearing some soil on your skin in the process.
“It‘s really comin‘ together.“, he noted and nodded towards the healthy green surrounding your ankles.
Don‘t blush, you told yourself. “Thank you.“, you beamed, “I am worried about my tomatoes, though. They look a bit peaked.“
You pointed to some sad little plants on the end of your veggie patch.
With professional eyes he wandered along the fence to inspect them.
“Oh, yea, they might have had a bit too much sun and not enough water. Don‘t worry, happens to all of us.“, he smiled, “I have some extra starters in my greenhouse. Ya can have a couple if ya like. I always grow more in case bugs get to ‘em.“
“Oh, really?“
“Sure, come by tomorrow to pick ‘em up.“
“Thank you so much!“
“What else have ya got here?“, he now leaned on the fence post, examining the rest of the plants. You listed the few you had.
“Ya might wanna add sugar snap peas. They‘re easy to grow and the yield is really good.“
“Noted! But I might have to wait until next season, I don‘t think I have enough space for any more.“
“Ya can grow ‘em nicely in planters. I can build ya one. It‘s not difficult.“
Your heart did a little jump. “Are you sure it‘s not too much trouble?“
“Neighbors gotta stick together, right?“, he grinned and stood back up, “I‘mma let ya get back to it.“ and he made to leave.
“W-wait!“
He turned back to you.
“One of the grannies in town gave me a bunch of fresh greens and tofu today. My fridge doesn‘t work yet so I‘m worried it’ll go bad. Would you like to join me for dinner?“
He blinked. For a moment you weren‘t sure if you hadn‘t been too forward but then Kita nodded and walked around the fence to your gate. Oh my, somehow the fence had underplayed his handsomeness. As he stood right in front of you, arms tan and taut with lean muscles from a day‘s work and a towel tied around his neck you forgot to talk for a second.
“This way.“, you gestured to the front door.
“Don‘t ya wanna finish up weedin’ first?“
“But…“
“I‘ll help ya.“
“But…“
And he got to work. Of course, his practiced hands got the job done so much faster than you and where you had only managed a fourth of the patch he finished up the rest in no time.
Kita knelt on a seating pillow you had laid out around your coffee table, patiently waiting for you to plate up the hearty stew alongside some grilled tofu and rice. You figured he must be starving after all that hard manual labor. But to your surprise he ate slowly, chewed carefully and seemed to savor the taste.
“It‘s delicious.“, he said and let out a small content sigh, “I usually don‘t have much energy to cook in the evenin’s. This is great, thank ya.“
So he did live alone. How the masses of overzealous grandmothers in town hadn‘t flocked together to feed this man yet was a mystery to you.
In all honesty, Kita didn‘t agree with the people in town who said you were “pretty“. “Pretty“ didn‘t do you justice. He thought you were breathtaking. Because that‘s how he felt when he talked to you for the first time. Like his breath was stuck somewhere in his throat. Your genuine smile when he complimented your cooking now had a permanent place in his mind - framed it hung at the very top where he could always admire it throughout his day. Where his thoughts were usually busy with plans for the following morning or simply quiet, while his hands moved automatically through the water in the fields, they were now interlaced with you. Your twinkling eyes when he told you he would build you a planter, your cute protests when he offered to help you weed that tiny little veggie patch as if it was the most daunting task ever encountered and your voice, bright and lively as you told him about yourself upon his request. His grandmother had told him many stories growing up, about right and wrong, patience, kindness and fate. She told him when two people were meant for each other, their souls would recognize it and be drawn to the other by some unseen force. Back then, young Kita wasn‘t exactly sure what to make of it. It sounded very fantastical and without any data to back it up he thought it was another one of his grandmother‘s folktales. Now he wasn‘t so sure anymore because you were his first and last thought of the day.
He doubted that someone as beautiful and worldly as you would consider him as a match but he was merely glad to know he could be of help and make your life a little easier. After dinner the previous night he had told you he had some business in the city the next day and you could please wait for him at his place in the afternoon to collect your promised tomato starters. He had spent the morning making sure the little plants were in top shape, selecting the very best of the bunch. He was eager to get back home but as per usual, city traffic had other ideas.
Every couple of seconds he glanced at the clock on the truck‘s dashboard, hoping he didn‘t make you wait too long.
When he finally pulled into his driveway he spotted you sitting on his porch, his black and white dog lounging in your lap, getting his ears massaged.
A bundle lay next to you.
The dog‘s tail thwacked on the wooden porch as he approached.
“Ya look comfortable.“ He had meant it to his (guard) dog but somehow it seemed like your full cheeks got a bit of color.
“I hope I haven't kept ya waitin‘.“
“It‘s fine.“, you said simply, “I had great company.“ You petted the dog's head again who let out a happy huff.
Kita grinned and looked towards one of his greenhouses. “I‘ll go grab the tomatoes.“
You were brushing some dog hairs off your pants when he returned. Without meaning to, he searched your hands for an indication of a wedding band but shook his head when he caught himself.
He held out the tray with the starters.
“Thank you so much! They look great. And here.“, you bent down to exchange the tray for the bundle, “Since you said you wouldn‘t accept any money for them I made you dinner instead.“
His eyes widened. “Ya didn‘t have to.“
You shrugged. “I know, but it wouldn‘t feel right otherwise. And it‘s not like it‘s even close to an equal trade once these start producing.“
He was a little disappointed. After all, he had practiced inviting you to have dinner with him his entire drive back, but having more of your cooking was the next best thing, he supposed.
The following morning you found the bundle neatly wrapped on your doorstep, the large square bento box inside had been thoroughly cleaned and a note replaced the food “It was really delicious. Thank you very much. - Kita“.
Your heart stumbled when you stared at the neatly written words and grinning so hard your cheeks started to hurt, you pinned it to a little cork board next to the door.
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a/n: thank you so much to @makkir0ll for helping me hatch this ostrich-sized brain egg 🌟🫶🏻
art: coloring done by @keiko-chan
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shayyprasad · 14 hours
Text
cool | peter parker
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a/n: this concept was so sweet to me, and i had to write something for it. okay, so yeah, this is technically irondad + spiderson... but i wanted to add to it.
repost because this fic flopped with, like, 10 notes. if you look at the og, it says 700ish because of the prev notes of what i reblogged. interact with this fic, it's what keeps me going!
summary: you find that a brown haired boy is always at the restraunt you work at, covered with cuts and bruises. you're curious, so what do you do?
warnings: cursing, minor angst (not really tho, mostly fluff)
pairing: fem!reader x post-nwh!peter parker
word count: 1.5k+ words
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you're working late, you don't normally. it doesn't hurt though, having a side hustle outside of college. with shit parents, community college is really all you have as an option, so extra money is welcomed.
it's 20 minutes until closing time, and you're the only one left. you've read enough articles and watched enough true crime to be at least a little paranoid. not expecting anyone else, you spray a table, wiping it down with a rag. might as well get started with cleaning, right?
so when you hear the familiar chime of the door, you've got the right to be suprised. looking up, you're greeted by the sight of a boy. he's got soft brown curls, and (you find, once you meet his gaze) matching dark, hazel eyes.
you wave at him and move behind the register. he looks harmless, but don't most men that have bad intentions? not that you think he's going to do anything.
you're just a woman. it's the way of life, this thought spiral.
"hi, what can i get you?" when he's closer, you can see the cut he's got on his cheek. it's dried blood, but still enough to make your eyebrows shoot up. in fact, he's got a bruise too.
under his left eye, and by the yellow-green, you can tell it's fresh. it's not your business to ask, well, it is... but you're only asking about his order. he runs a hand through his hair, obviously trying to tame it.
there's a leaf at the top, tangled in there. you want to take it out.
he sniffs, eying the menu. you've never seen him here before, and you've been working here for a while. now that you're looking at him, his eye looks swollen - like someone socked him. "a- a cheese-"
you're not sure where the sudden courage comes from, but you cut him off; "do you want an ice pack? or, uh, maybe frozen peas?"
he looks startled for a second, as if he were just now knocked out og this long train of thought. he pauses to touch his eye, "um," you can tell he doesn't want to trouble you, but you're intrigued now.
"seriously, it's no problem." (on the account you have frozen peas, then it would be no problem. if you didn't... a pack of cold, raw meat-?)
"sure, yeah."
"cool. er- stay right there." you go to the freezer room, rummaging around for frozen peas. it takes you a minute, and you're afraid there are none for a moment, but there are. triumphantly, you bring them back out.
he's standing in the same place, although you're not sure why he would've left. "peas!" you sing-song. handing them to him, you smile.
he throws one back, though it's forced and kind of hollow. you're afraid you've made him uncomfortable, or that you're too much. are you too much?
he squints at your nametag, "thanks, uh, gertrude?"
you're confused for a second, "oh, she's dead."
"i- sorry?" he tilts his head, now he's confused too.
"no, i mean, this isn't my nametag. it's old. like, super old. manager's dead wife. this place is too cheap to get new ones, so we, like, basically catfish people."
he nods, "okay. what's is it then?"
"huh?"
"your name."
you mentally smack your forehead, of course that's what he was asking. "y/n."
"cool. i'm peter. peter parker."
"nice to meet you peter peter parker," it's your attempt at a joke, paired with a lopsided grin. it makes peter smile though, so you consider it a win.
peter presses the pack to his eye, a wince turning into a sigh. oddly enough, it sounds sexual to you, and your face is heating up. what's wrong with you? seriously?
"okay, well, um, i assume you still wanna order something?"
"yeah. maybe just a cheeseburger and fries?"
"you got it," it's closing time, but you don't mind. peter is cute, and he seems nice as well. you're more than happy to stay around longer. "on the house," you say when he tries to offer you money, "seems like you had a rough night."
"no, i-"
"no sweat, parker."
you ring up his order, get it ready, and by the time you're done, he's settled at a table. "here you go. enjoy!"
you go back to sweeping, but you want to talk to him more. "you live around here? i haven't seen you here before."
"uh... not exactly. i don't come here often. i, um," he presses his lips together, "had a friend that brought me here. once or twice."
you frown, "oh, i'm sorry."
"what?" peter looks up from his meal.
"i just- well, you used past tense so i assumed you don't... aren't in touch anymore?" maybe small talk was a bad idea.
"oh. yeah. i guess. he's not really... around. he passed a little while back."
it's like your heart physically aches. "that's sad to hear."
"yeah. 's okay though, getting by fine. or- or better."
"mhm. it gets better. lost my sister a few a years back."
"really? i'm sorry." they're empty words, you've probably heard them a lot, he knows that. you know he knows that.
"thanks."
"yeah," it's quiet for a little while longer.
"so, uh," he pauses, taking a sip of his water, "are you still in school?"
"college," you pause, slightly embarrassed, "community, i mean."
"oh. cool. i'm at midtown. it's not, like, super fancy or whatever..."
you cut him off, shrugging, "better than community. and isn't it like so stupid, how they basically tell you that college is a must, and then have you pay all this money? 'oh, you need it for a good future!'" you mock, "aw, really? then make it free!"
you freeze, realizing you've gone on a tangent. "sorry," you say, flushing.
"no, it's okay," he laughs. "it's cool you're... passionate."
"thanks," you put the broom away. "um, i have to go take out the trash. would you mind... not stealing anything?"
"i'll try," he jokes.
"cool. i believe in your ability of self-restraint."
"cool," he says, matching your tone.
"cool."
"cool."
"okay, that got weird after the, like, second time," you make a face.
"no, yeah, i agree."
"cool," you say, staring at each other in dead silence, before bursting into laughter. you hold up the trashbag, "yeah, so, one sec."
you push open the back door, tossing the bag in the dumpster.
he's so nice, you think. look at you, falling for a basically stranger. you walk back in, closing the door behind you. you notice he's done, so you throw out his things, cleaning down the table.
"hey, uh, when do you close?" peter asks.
you check the clock, "mm... 15 minutes ago."
"holy shit, really?"
"yeah. it's cool though. i was closing anyway, and the company didn't hurt. also... it looked like you needed this."
he looks down at his shoes, smiling, "yeah, no, i did. thanks. and sorry."
"like i said, it's cool."
"cool," you stop, "are you in a cult?" you blurt.
"um, sorry?"
"sorry, like, i just, you look... beat up. and i was wondering if you were in a gang... or something." you squint at the dried blood on his knuckles.
"uh... i am not."
"then how'd you get those?"
he looks conflicted, and you've probably crossed a line. "oh my god, i'm so sorry. obviously, it's not my business. i was just... curious."
you wipe down your last table, cursing yourself internally.
"no, it's cool. i'm..."
"seriously, it's not my business. don't tell me, actually. plausible deniability," you joke.
he says something, and it's so quiet, you don't hear it. "what?" you ask.
"i'm spider-man!"
"uh. what?"
"you don't know spider-man?"
"no, of course i know spider-man!"
"well, yeah. that's me. suprise." he says, doing a small show of jazz-hands.
"there's legit no way. i know i catfished you earlier, but that was on accident!"
he tilts his head, as if he's weighing his options. in reponse, you narrow your eyes at him, trying to figure out if it's one big joke. after that, it's so quick, you barely notice. something hits your hip, not harshly, and then you're spinning towards peter.
"holy-!" you look down at your side, trying to figure out what it is. you're tucked into peter, and you realize it's... a web. "no. way."
"yes way."
"why'd you tell me? now i can't plausibly deny anything! also, isn't this supposed to be a secret? isn't that the point of the mask? how do you know i won't sell you out?"
"that was a lot."
"i know. but it was very valid."
"i don't know. i just wanted to. you're nice and sweet and pretty-"
"oh, so pretty privilege?"
"no! no, of course not!"
"well, um," you wrap your arms around his neck, "thank you for trusting me. i won't tell anyone."
"cool."
"cool."
his hands are on your hips, and he's leaning in, but you pull away, smirking.
"no kissing until the second date, i'm afraid."
"we're going on dates?"
"if you don't want me to broadcast to the world, yes."
"well, i would've asked to take you anyways."
you smile at him, enjoying the moment.
"wait, are those cameras?" there's absolute panic in his voice, and you giggle.
"those are fake. it's cardboard to scare people off."
"oh. cool."
"cool."
you end up kissing him anyways.
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@whatsupstark@ell0ra-br3kk3r@idli-dosa@susvale@kdbsr-h@littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod @one-piece-frvr7
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mychoombatheroomba · 21 hours
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For the Fallen
Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 41
You and Leon spend the holiday together and come to an agreement.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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Chapter Index
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When the plans to study had been thrown out the window by your own hand, part of you had resigned yourself to a solemn remembrance. Fitting for the day, after all. One meant to commemorate the fallen. You weren’t sure what to do to honor them - the names in that report stashed under your mattress. The ones stamped above empty boxes in a graveyard you couldn’t bring yourself to visit. One of those names, still worn around your neck. A name that you wouldn’t be avenging any time soon, thanks to the broken bones in your side.
Just one of the dozens of names you were failing in your inaction.
You’d clutched that third dog tag in your hand as you sat alone in the infirmary, turning your music on loud and just letting yourself think, however foolish it was. You weren’t sure how else to honor the men and women whose stories you carried. So, even if it would just get you lost in a tempest, you’d begun to wade into the stormy waters. 
You hadn’t gotten very far before there was a knock on your door.
Then your plans were, once again, completely changed.
“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” Leon had said with a little smile when you opened that door to find him there. 
Even after he’d explained Valeria’s plan, you’d been antsy. Maybe because you doubted her ability to stall the two CIA agents all day, maybe because you didn’t like the idea of owing Valeria anything else. Either way, Leon made it clear that, if you wanted his company, he’d be there.
You almost refused him. 
There was a part of you that wanted to remember alone; to get lost in that storm. 
“You don’t have to,” you told him. “You should be writing back to your family.” 
Something crossed Leon’s eyes that you couldn’t identify, but the sincerity that followed was something you knew all too well from him. “That doesn’t mean that you have to be alone. If you don’t want to be.” 
He was giving you an out. Offering you the option of taking that time for yourself . . . but you didn’t know when you’d have another opportunity like this. You couldn’t be sure that you and Leon would be able to be together at all until the end of his training, if even then. 
The only problem was that it was today. 
It was today and even if you’d been allowed to go off base and mourn, to attend a service or even see their empty graves, you didn’t know that you would. Last year on Memorial Day, you’d been determined to remember them through service. You’d been training, then. Pushing yourself to never fail anyone like you’d failed them. What greater way of honoring them was there? This year, though, your own body had caged you from that option. You didn’t know how to honor your fallen.
“Not sure I’ll be good company today,” you warned Leon. 
He just shrugged, his expression becoming more knowing. Understanding. “Not sure I will be, either.” Because you weren’t the only one with fallen to remember. You felt insensitive for thinking only of yourself, then. Especially when Leon seemed to be thinking only of you. “But my company’s yours if you want it.” 
You hesitated a moment, your lips pressed tight together. 
“Did you finish writing your letters?” you asked, because you had seen the look on Leon’s face that morning. You’d seen how desperately he’d wanted to respond to the letters he’d received. 
Just as you could see now that writing those return letters was proving to be difficult. 
“No. Not yet. Not sure what to write, honestly.” 
You nodded, your mouth twisting as you made your decision. “Well . . . write them in here, then.” 
So, there the two of you sat, you on the bed, Leon in the chair and hunched over the nearby table, staring at a half-written letter. You had to promise him several times that it was alright for him to write it in your company before he actually got to finishing it. Or trying to, at least. You could see his mind rushing, trying to come up with the right words, his borrowed pen drumming against the table just as your fingers found their own beat against the metal of the tags around your neck. 
 “Sorry,” he eventually apologized. “I didn’t think this would take so long.” 
You could sympathize. You weren’t sure what you’d put in your letter home, if you were writing one. Though, it occurred to you, you didn't know if that’s where Leon was writing to. You assumed, with the slightly messy handwriting of the letters he’d brought with him, that he was writing to a kid. That only made the process more difficult, as far as you could tell. So, you shook your head, flipping to another radio station. “Don’t worry about it,” you told him. Then, after a moment spent looking down at Leon’s letters . . . “Little sister?” you asked, taking a guess. 
Leon’s smile came with a little laugh. “Sure, something like that.” 
Something like that?
“You don’t have a secret kid you haven’t told me about, do you?” 
A little hesitation and a strange look from Leon, and at once a look of horror crossed your face. One that made him laugh. 
“Not like that!” he reassured you, shaking his head, waving his hands in front of him. It was a moment before he collected his thoughts, and when he did, there was a sense of somberness to him. One you recognized all too well. It was a look that overtook him whenever he talked about that night, if fear didn’t get to him first. So, you weren’t surprised when he explained where he met the little girl in the letters. “She was in Raccoon City. Her parents . . . her parents died there. So when we made it out, I took care of her for a while.” 
That was . . . not that surprising, actually. Not when it came to Leon. He would offer to house some kid who had nowhere else to go, even after he’d been through so much.
“So . . . a secret kid that you never told me about.” You grinned a little as you spoke, letting him know you were teasing. You were sure that helped Leon’s own smile as he looked back at you. 
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 
“Why haven’t you mentioned her before?” you couldn’t help but ask, because clearly this girl meant a lot to Leon. 
 But then, you of all people knew what it was to keep your heart guarded, didn’t you? 
“I don’t know,” Leon admitted, his voice quieter. “I guess I just . . . didn’t know how. Not something that ever really came up in conversation.” 
Another nod as you looked down at the floor, then back up at the mystery that was your lover. You’d given each other so many pieces of yourselves, but still had so much else locked away. 
“What’s her name?” you asked.
Leon smiled as he answered. “Sherry.”
Sherry. Another name from his past. Another piece of who he was. 
Another name that had an unexpected weight for you, too. 
“She was Birkin’s daughter.” 
Your eyes widened, because that name brought on nothing but anger in you. “The scientist?” The man who had helped take everything from you, even indirectly. The bastard responsible for the destruction of Raccoon City. You remembered his correspondence with the CIA, demanding protection for him, yes, but his family too. 
Sherry. 
Leon nodded, solemn. “He almost killed his own kid.” 
You were full of anger and retribution - that had been all you’d known for so long before Leon. But even you didn’t have it in you to be angry at a child for the sins of her father. 
“Then it’s good she had you,” you told Leon, because you could see that Sherry, even if she wasn’t his own flesh and blood, meant a lot to him. That was all but confirmed in the grateful smile he gave you in return. One that turned more sad. 
“I wish I could have done more for her.”
Of course he did. Whatever good Leon did, you had the feeling it would never be enough for him. 
“Is that who they were asking about?” you couldn’t help but ask, and it was Leon’s turn for brief confusion. “Hellman. Back in the prison,” you said, and you felt bad that the color drained a little from his face at the mention of it. Still, you’d been curious since that day. “They asked about someone’s name. A girl. Was it her? Or Ada?” 
Leon’s lips tightened, and he shook his head. “No.” Neither. Interesting. “No, that was . . .” he hesitated, and you half expected him to say pass. It had been a while since you’d needed to use that system, but you’d imagined it may make a reappearance. 
Instead, you got a full answer. 
“They were asking about Claire,” Leon explained, his voice low like he was afraid someone might overhear. “I met her that night, too. On the way into Raccoon City. She’s the one who saved Sherry, but she was looking for her brother after everything, so I agreed to take Sherry while Claire went looking.” 
You nodded as you listened, this being the first you’d heard of this woman - another shadow Leon carried from that night, it seemed. 
“What’s she like? Sherry?” 
Leon looked surprised at the change in topic, but eventually smiled. “Smart. Maybe a little too smart for her own good, sometimes.” There was a fondness to his voice that melted your heart. “Persistent as hell, too. She really wanted me to get a dog for her. Almost convinced me, too.” He chuckled to himself at a memory you weren’t privy to, but his gaze slid down to the floor, the levity in his eyes fading a touch. “She’s tough, too. A lot tougher than me.” 
You nodded, because for a child to have lived through the hell of Raccoon City . . .
“She shouldn’t have had to live through that,” Leon said, after a moment. You could hear the utter regret in his voice, and you knew he was wishing he could have shielded her from it all better. Of course, you understood. You wouldn’t wish what you’d seen on anyone, especially not a child. Sherry shouldn’t have had to see what she’d seen, but-
“Neither should you.” 
Leon grimaced at your words, shaking his head. “None of us should have. None of this should have happened.” 
“But it did.” 
He nodded, looking down. “But it did,” he nodded, his eyes shifting from your face down - down to the clenched fist held just inches away from your heart, where you held your dog tags. It looked like he was gathering the courage to say something - and finding that courage didn’t take him as long as it once did. “Can I ask you something?” Even now, he was still too polite for his own good. 
“Sure.” You had a feeling you knew what that question was going to be before it even left Leon’s lips. 
You were proven right a second later. 
“You wear three tags,” he said, looking back up to your eyes. The observation cut deep and pinned you in place. “The third one . . . is it your Captain’s?” 
You knew you could refuse him an answer, just as you had for months whenever he asked about your past or the people in it. If you wanted, you could say one word and Leon would drop the subject, no questions asked. 
But you’d wanted him to know everything, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, back before Fort Benning and all the mess that followed, that you would tell him about the man whose name and fate you had literally tied around your own neck. The man you’d considered a father in a time when you’d needed one, and a man you’d failed. 
Leon deserved to know. So, you nodded. “It was.” 
“And what was his name?” His question mirrored your own in a way that made your heart squeeze. 
You answered with a tight voice because you hadn’t spoken his name out loud since you gave the report hidden only feet away from you. “Simon Reynolds.”  
A moment of silence passed between the two of you, one where you could see Leon debating something. Eventually, when he spoke up again, his voice was soft. “What was he like?”
What was Reynolds like? The question hit you like a bullet, because for over a year you had thought more of his death than the man himself. Grief and vengeance had blurred the image of him in your mind, making him into a catalyst instead of a person. It wasn’t what he deserved, so as Leon asked the question, you let yourself go back to another time. One where you were a shitty kid who thought the world was out to get you. And maybe it had been, in the end, but for a while, Captain Simon Reynolds had been there to guide that anger at the world into something else. Something that could do good instead of harm. 
“He was . . . firm. But never unfair. Kind of guy to tell you when you fucked up, but he wouldn’t hold it against you if you learned. Never made you feel bad about asking for help when you needed it.” You couldn’t help but smile at the memory of him, like you were seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time in ages. “Used to say ‘if you can’t run, you crawl, and if you can’t do that, then you find someone to carry you’.” 
Leon smiled at that, nodding like the words were taking root. You’d figured they would. “I think I would have liked him.” 
“You would have. He’d have loved you.” They would have been insufferable, you imagined, if there was a world where they could have met. If he could have met all of your second family. “They all would have.”
“Your old unit?” Leon asked, and you didn’t miss the hesitancy in his voice. He didn’t want to overstep, but he wanted to know. 
“Yeah.” 
“You’ve never talked about them much.” 
You took a breath, then, because that fact had been weighing on you and now was as good a time as any. So, with a little exhale as movement made pain flare in your ribs, you got up from the bed and reached under the mattress for the manila folder you’d hidden in the lining. Leon watched you with parted lips, right up until you found what you were looking for and handed him a collection of papers. “Good day to change that,” you told him, and his eyes widened as he read your name off the paper. 
“This is-” 
“Everything that happened that night. My report on it. Their stories.” The ones that had been barred from the rest of the world. “All of it.” 
The two of you looked at each other, then, Leon’s eyes widening as it sunk in just what you were telling him. You were ready. You wanted him to know, after months and months of hiding these deeper scars. 
“Krauser also gave me this,” you went on, handing him a second stack of papers. One with his own name printed in black. Leon’s eyes flashed in momentary fear, but you assuaged it quickly. “I didn’t read it.” 
The news made him tilt his head to the side a bit, and he looked between you and the report. “Why?” he asked, because you could have known everything. You could have seen into the wounds he’d been hiding, and that just made his confusion all the more ironic to you. Did he really think you’d do that to him? 
“Because you hadn’t told me yet,” you said simply. That was all it came down to. He hadn’t been ready to share those details, and you wouldn’t take that choice from him. Leon would tell you when he was ready. “I wanted to hear it from you.”
As he realized that, he smiled up at you, soft and sweet. It meant a great deal to him, you could see it in his eyes. Even as they took on a more knowing glint and he handed the reports back to you. 
“What makes you think I want anything different, then?” he asked, and your traitorous heart squeezed at the words. “If you want to tell me, if you’re ready, I want to hear it from you too.”
You took the papers, huffing and giving him a look. “Not gonna let me take the easy way out?” 
Leon just smiled back at you. “Nope. Unless you’d really rather I-” 
“No,” you shook your head, resolute as you braced yourself for what was to come. Because your comrades, your friends, your brothers and sisters, they deserved to have their stories told properly. Even if it was to someone they’d never met. “I want to. I want you to know. Just . . . it’s . . .” 
“Take it as slow as you need,” Leon told you, reaching for your hand. “God knows I’ll probably have to, too.” 
You looked down at him, searching his face. “That mean you’re ready too?” To tell you everything, all the details you’d only guessed at for months. To share the burden with you. 
“Yeah,” he nodded, looking a little sad. “Like you said, it’s a good day for it.” 
A day to remember the fallen - something you both had your fair share of. A day to mourn, and to try and move forward. So, with another deep breath, you nodded and decided to take a risk. You tugged on his hand, and without needing to be told, he rose and followed you the few steps to your bed. There, sitting on the edge, surrounded by letters and reports and soft music, the two of you looked at each other. It was a different kind of intimacy than what you’d already shared, different than the excitement of you kissing him in the darkness, of you sharing in stolen moments of pleasure. What you were about to share was deeper than that, and you both knew it. This was everything. This was who you had been and who you'd been reforged into. This was the scar you didn't dare to show to anyone, the bones that remained broken even as you tried to heal. One night that had destroyed you, one night that had destroyed him. Nights that, in some terrible way, had led you both right here, to each other.
So, you looked at each other, silently making sure you were both ready before, after a moment, Leon gave you a half smile. One of sadness and solidarity both. “So . . . who goes first?” 
As the two of you shared your stories, as you spoke of the nights that your lives forever changed, his hand never left yours. 
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Chapter Index
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A/N: Just a lil chapter, because hoooooo boy the next one is gonna be a beast. There will absolutely be heavy topics described and discussed, because it's Finland and Raccoon City time at long last baby!
Yes, Reynolds' quote (and name honestly) is a reference to Firefly, and anyone who hasn't seen that show should absolutely go watch it, it's really really good 🥲
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dykevanny · 11 days
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had a really funny idea for an ask blog ft. Vanny and another plex employee oc,,
#Get this right. 2 pizzaplex employees accidentally get tumblr famous bc someone has been leaving weird graffiti everywhere and#Getting up to other shenanigans and sends asks abt it to this one like urban exploration blog. Who later gets an ask basically like#Hey I work at the plex?? This is some insider info only another employee would know????#The two anons are constantly back and forth in this persons inbox and are eventually assigned nicknames#‘Pix’ for the mystery vandalism employee because she shows up as nothing but weird pixels and glitches on cameras#The other employee is ‘Cam’ because they have been monitoring all this on the cameras#One day they get each others blogs and keep sending each other death threats and shit jokingly but one day pix warns cam not to go to a#Weird late staff meeting#The next night it is literally just the two of them and they think this is so funny they start a blog trying to uncover why everyone else#Just isn’t coming in. At first they are like well layoffs duhhhh#But then ppl send asks and messages like ‘hey have u seen this employee it’s my brother/friend/etc’ and they realize shit is actually going#On in here#One night cam is live-blogging their shift and sees a weird intruder in a costume with a knife and runs around eventually escaping and find#Pix lying at the bottom of a stairwell unconscious with a bloody nose later#Takes pix to the hospital. Only to be alone in the plex the next night and suddenly get a phone call saying that pix left the hospital. Bc#Pix left cam as the emergency contact because ‘she didn’t have anyone else’.#Cam has to survive the masked intruder#eventually starts recording everything but when the intruder gets closer the footage gets glitchier#Eventually there’s just one fuzzy image of the intruder with Roxy and Monty standing on either side and that’s the last we hear of cam. Nex#Post is pix saying hehe thanks for following our little story aha !! Bye now it’s over!! And that’s it…..heheheheh#Killer rab blog has become a little boring for me so… might start this soon….#I’d have to make like 2 blogs plus some fake dms too probably . Damn
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Response
Thank you to Jade/Lolthia @/edens-gemstone for replying to the previous post. I will make an exception in replying as yes, there was a part I forgot to add, which is additional evidence to prove that all your accusations in the comments below are completely false. Allow me to address them one by one.
At the end, I will include some follow-up questions to add additional context for other users.
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THE ACCUSATIONS
“Also you literally stalked my tumblr after this, rb posts about Adam that I wasn’t comfy being rb and possibly sent me harassing anons (idk for sure)”
I do not have a Tumblr. This account is made by someone else, posting on my behalf. But if you really are confident that it’s me reblogging these posts and sending harassing anons, post the blog and the anons. If you don’t know for sure, why did you post this? 
“You literally just… didn’t want me included because I wouldn't let you ship your OC with Ibara.”
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As seen here, this claim is completely false. I explicitly mentioned that I had no problems with the pairing, but asked them to let me know prior next time to ensure the RP is consistent. I may have vaguely talked about an original story I was writing with my OC and Ibara outside of RP, but within the context of the RP, I have clearly stated that I was fine with the direction Lolthia wanted. 
None of what they had mentioned was communicated to me at all before the start of the RP. They didn’t even acknowledge what I said, just responding with ‘well I figured it would be obvious’.
Lolthia’s behaviour here is consistent with their stated intention in the previous post: to RP not because they want to collaborate, but because they want other writers to expend time and effort to fulfil their self-ship fantasies, without giving as much in return. Therefore, they didn’t bother giving context, let alone asking if their RP partners were okay with it.
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“You even stopped our RP after getting mad about me dating Ibara.”
Lolthia stopped the RP themselves after I confronted them for ranting on their public blog about a communication issue they were unhappy with in this server.
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Someone alerted me that they were talking about their RP server on their blog. I was concerned about those in the server who were on Tumblr. As their RP partner, I requested that they delete it and talk to us first in the future. We then had the following conversation.
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The conversation ended with this rude remark and Lolthia proceeded to be inactive for a long time before starting the argument in the previous post.
“I got tired of constant pings asking me for stuff”/ “I… asked to stop being pinged because I was going through enough”
I need you to understand that you are the admin of the server. We needed your help to create threads to hold our RPs in. Instead of not saying anything when we pinged you only to throw a tantrum about it, why didn’t you pass the permissions or moderator roles to someone else, or at least notify us that you’d be inactive for a certain amount of time?
In the post where we were planning an RP and pinged you - If your interpretation of ‘maybe they can come in later to keep the narrative consistent’ is us excluding you, that’s honestly a you problem, mate.
TO LOLTHIA/JADE
Only one of the claims you have made against me is correct. Yes - presently, I do not like you. But it’s not because you are whatever you identify as, or that you ship with a specific character.
I do not like you because you vagued your own server members, including myself, on your public blog. When I found out and asked you to edit out the mention of our server at minimum, you still had the gall to try to convince me it didn’t affect anyone but yourself.
I do not like you for insulting my friends and I as writers by saying we were ‘just an alternative to character.AI’ all along. And as people, by comparing us to the hate anons who had sent you death threats when we did nothing of the sort. Then, twisting the above into these accusations, without a shred of proof to go with them. 
I am a ROLEPLAYER. Ibara to me is no more than a character and piece of intellectual property.
You: 
Explicitly conveyed that your position was to use us to help you get validation for your alleged ‘relationships’ in a similar way to Character.AI.
Took out your jealousy towards other fandom members onto us, even getting emotional when we merely talked about and shared screenshots of characters you liked. 
When we didn’t give you attention to your liking, accused us of ostracising you and wanting you dead.
Threw a tantrum at us for pinging you for basic admin duties as the server owner, because it wasn’t attention or praise.
The only irrational one here is not myself, but you, and the hard evidence in these two posts is overwhelming.
I won’t be entertaining any further responses. Please be reminded that any attempt to post my personal information publicly will be met with action by me.
TO OTHER USERS
Q: Did you make both these posts and the document? 
No, these posts are follow-ups to the document containing evidence, made by a different person. 
Q: Why did you feel the need to engage them rather than leave the server?
We had already talked only amongst ourselves, ignored any vents they had and began our own server long before these events.
Engaging them was at first a personal choice to defend my friends, who had done nothing wrong. At the time, I was not aware that this was common behaviour for them.
The comparison between us and the death threat anons, which could affect my friends’ reputations, was the most compelling reason for me to attempt straightening this out.
Q: Why has this post been made almost a year later?
Yes, I do agree that from the looks of it, Lolthia’s actions are old news. After I was informed, I personally did not want anything to do with them, and decided to let it go.
However, recently, my friends in the same fandom spaces have not had the luxury of curating their own online experiences because according to them, they are constantly remaking blogs. Furthermore, it was not easy for them to work up the courage to make this post, as being wrongfully accused of wanting someone’s death is not easy for anyone. So, I decided to back them up with the hard evidence they lacked.
Thank you for reading. 
#ok to reblog#ok to rb#I may as well also say something in the tags (I am the one posting on someone else's behalf):#I myself hope this is the last post made on here as well. There is nothing more to add honestly.#This is honestly getting tiring. I know you will read this Jade one way or another. You will come across it.#If you have evidence for the contrary and can prove that you are in the right please do so (I already know you can't).#You will claim to be 'harrassed' but that is not our intention (anyone sending you harrassment or threats is not behavior we tolerate).#(Also no we are sending no one after you nor 'stalk your blog'. Don't act as if we don't have anything better to do... Because we do)#Let me tell you a secret Jade: You are NOT important. We only had enough of your behavior online since it does not change. At all.#It affects others - It affected us and it is affecting the communities you are in as well as a good portion of their members.#Please let it go already. But you can't. Because... As you said yourself 'Any attention is good attention'.#And some of your current mutuals will try to say 'it adds fuel to the fire'. This is not the intention in any way.#The only intention is to document Jade's online behavior and warn others. Because they have already gone too far.#This is to document and prove that they are no different no matter where they go. We only want to spread awareness.#It is not just me and the other person who are sick of it. Many others are sick of it as well. We want it to stop.#Their actions affect others nowadays as well. Only last month there was yet another incident heavily affecting another person.#Why? Because Jade thought it was necessary to make a 'callout post'. Even though the situation was long over.#This should have been long over and everyone involved is trying to move on. But you Jade make it impossible. This has gone on far enough.#Not to mention having been exposed to your drama and graphic vents (which at least sound suicide baity) have also stressed me out.#I kept out of the drama but it was affecting my mental state as well. All because you manage to land yourself into so many controversies.#I moved blogs because I had enough of your shit. Seeing it day in and out does a lot to a person.#'But no one cares about me' - We do not wish you ill (that is the truth) but this has to stop somehow. You are not the victim here.#It's always others but honestly... Given how much shit you got yourself into maybe you are to blame. This isn't normal after all.#Maybe ask yourself what you are doing wrong. But you won't. You never will. You will paint us as 'the bad ones' here.#That's the only thing you know how to do. You cannot owe up to anything and you are proving it time and time again. Even now.#Why do you get defensive now and not when the document dropped? Because there is solid evidence for your bullshit. That's why. You know it.#Deleting because you will throw a temper tantrum? No. Forget it. But again if you have proof for your claims come forward.#To me personally if you wish. But beware: This is not the first time I have dealt with this bullshit. I know this behavior all too well.#You are pulling bullshit I have already seen. My advice is to just log off already and sort your problems out.#This is not the first time I dealt with your type. You show the pattern I honestly expect and you will react as I expect.
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yooniesim · 8 months
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Girl... I aint reading all that
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#ceci speaks#nonsims#text#negative#gif warning#keep crying stalker#refresh my tab and go write another nonsensical rant just like i said u would lmfao#or finally get over it girl cos no one cares#glad i got u hella mad and ranting at nothing... as usual#thats how stupid and easily led you are#good luck with that school u got going on...#ppl pls dont send me anything else from this stalker theres nothing they have to say thats valuable or the slightest bit intelligent#delete later#also dont say ur lowkey sorry to me when ur on my dick 24/7#obsessed and thinking racism only exists for you personally#cos you cant handle anyone disagreeing with you#cos if u really thought i was racist u wouldnt have been liking my cc posts#and dming me apologies for getting me hate up until a few months ago when i blocked u#ur ego got hurt when i blocked u and that is the ONLY reason u rant about me every other business day#same thing with all your weird friends that were nice in my dms and sticking around in my server until a few months ago#now all of a sudden im a vile coon that they never liked to begin with#only AFTER I blocked yall after catching yall talking shit out the other side ur mouth and not to my face#youre cowards plain and simple just trying to act tough and hard and morally right#when in the end you just look fucking goofy#for swearing i was antiblack whilst being buddy buddy with me#what does that make yall then?#birds of a feather and all that right#you just dont know how to not like someone without trying to villainize them and that is cowardice#otherwise you wouldnt ONLY call someone problematic after they blocked or personally offended you
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xolborsaysstuff · 7 months
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always in a constant battle of whether I should quit kf or not tbh it's actually funny how often I change my opinion on it
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chubs-deuce · 1 year
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Mona's mom is probably in prison and fuck your boundaries, I hope you get brutalized in the future
Those are some bold words for someone who tried to gaslight me with plagiarized words and didn't even have the decency to deny it, even when the server admin from who you stole the paragraph - back from when she was politely warning you about your toxic behavior in dms - has directly confronted you about it.
I know you can't stand losing to the point where you show your worst colors the second anyone disagrees with you (something you've been called out for consistently by multiple people, on top of general rudeness), but this is an L you're just going to have to accept taking lmao.
It was never about Mona's mom or how close to the truth your crude takes were or not, it has always been about your rancid behavior and self-absorbed attitude with which said takes are always presented. You barged into my post and dropped an insulting assumption in the comments about a hypothetical character the post wasn't even about, then made an ass of yourself when I pointed out that it's rude to do that.
The fact that you're completely failing to acknowledge this and instead try to shift the blame - once again - away from you and proceeed to resort to threaten me with violence is just proving that for me.
I don't normally respond to hateful asks like this, but there is also rarely a person that has proven to be as deserving of my ire and being told exactly how much is wrong with them and their behavior as you.
And you hate me because I see through your manipulative bully tactics and call them out plain as day.
Note by the way, please, how not once I have resorted to childish name-calling in this entire post and yet made my distaste for you abundantly clear? That's the difference between me and you.
I understand and acknowledge the risks and consequences of my actions, think and reflect about what I'm saying and how it affects people, how both can and will be used against me if the opportunity presents itself, how to handle it when it does. I will admit when I've made a mistake and do what I can to rectify it, or at least take steps to try and prevent it from happening again in the future. I'm not perfect and I make mistakes, but I at least try to be better.
You don't. You talk shit and get mad when you get hit. Then keep doing the same thing, again and again.
Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe being more observant, honest and mindful will actually get you the kind of validation you crave? And yet you keep tricking, keep manipulating, keep bullying your way through life, to get what you want.
I feel almost sorry for you, honestly. Whoever taught you that that's the way to go has done you dirty, because there's just no way in my mind how anyone as vapid and manipulative as you as her go-to strategy in life would be capable of forming genuine, lasting bonds.
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accidentalharrie · 2 years
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Asks are off for the foreseeable future, because the children who can’t handle Harry having a girlfriend are intent on ruining DWD for the grown-ups. Kiddo, I hope sending that to me gave you enough of a adrenaline rush to get through seeing Harry and Olivia celebrate at the premiere(s).
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paganinpurple · 1 year
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AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED
Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.
It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:
As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.
If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.
No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).
Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.
There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.
For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.
The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.
Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.
If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.
Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.
Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.
People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.
Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.
Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.
It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.
The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.
I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.
I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.
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jiminsfault · 7 months
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petition to make all manga readers shut the fuck up online!! Blurting out major plot points and joking about it without giving a spoiler warning is literally so mean, let me enjoy a show in peace!!
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5ummit · 11 months
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New Mature Content Warning Overlay (And How to Get Rid of It)
More fun community label "features"! Unlike the new mandatory label for #NSFW, this one is a bigger deal to me because it affects my entire blog and it can't be avoided by just using a different tag.
Apparently on custom blog layouts, if you happen to post or reblog even a SINGLE post that's been flagged with the mature content community label, a full-page warning overlay will appear blurring out your entire blog that must be manually clicked through every single time the page is refreshed. At first I thought this was just a bug due to my older layout but I've come to realize it's not. It's a feature (as confirmed by this recent changes post) that affects all custom themes. The formatting will vary based on your own theme but here's what it looks like on my blog:
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I don't know about you but I find this is stupid and annoying. If it could be dismissed once and never seen again that might be one thing, but that's not the case. The vast majority of my blog is not "mature" enough to warrant such an aggressive and invasive warning. I also think pop-ups are obnoxious in general and I'll be damned if tumblr's going to force me to have one on MY blog.
After some desperate googling for a known workaround and being unable to find even a single mention of it, I decided to take on the challenge myself. I'm not a theme coder, so apologies if there's a better way to do this, but luckily it only took me like 10 minutes to figure out a simple fix, which I'm now sharing with anyone else who may want it:
.community-label-cover__wrapper {display: none}
Just copypaste that somewhere in your CSS and goodbye pop-up!
If you're not sure how to access your theme code, check out this help article. You can also add the code via the Advanced Options menu, which is actually even better (if you can get it to work, it depends on how your theme was coded), because it will then automatically be reapplied to a lot of themes without having to remember to manually add it every time if you change your theme in the future.
Obviously this will only remove it from your own blog for anyone who may visit it. If you never want to see this warning again on other people's blogs you can also add this custom filter to your ad block:
tumblr.com##.community-label-cover__wrapper
Unfortunately I do not have an easy tutorial on hand for this one as the method will depend on your specific ad block app or extension.
Some additional notes:
After adding the theme code and saving the changes, give it a minute to update as it sometimes takes a little while for the page to refresh.
The warning overlay only seems to appear if a "mature" post is on the FIRST page of your blog, which is still annoying and makes the whole thing even more pointless and stupid because what if someone visits any other page of your blog, and oh no, happens to see "mature" content they weren't warned about?!
The warning also appears on direct links to "mature" posts.
This hack has NOTHING to do with entire blogs that have been flagged as NSFW. It only works for non-flagged blogs with custom themes that happen to have individual "mature" posts.
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