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chrisbitchtree · 1 year

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(I'm So Happy To Be) Stuck With You

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!!! 💕💕💕 Please join me in celebrating Billy and Steve’s love!!

Thank you to @gracethieved for supplying this great prompt!!

5.6k - T

***

Looking back on the day, as he and Steve stand side by side in Hopper’s workshop, waiting for the chief of police to cut through the handcuffs connecting the two of them, Billy can admit to himself that this wasn’t his brightest idea.

Hopper’s grumbling about what idiots they are, both for getting themselves into this situation, and for not coming to him sooner, after already chewing them out for interrupting his Valentine’s Day date with Joyce, but it’s all worth it when he tells them they’re free. Billy can only hope that Steve doesn’t storm off now that he’s not forced to be by Billy’s side.

***

It all starts three days before, when he and Steve are discussing their plans for Valentine’s Day. It’s their first one as a couple, but Billy has to watch Max that night, so that his dad and Susan can go out, so he wants to celebrate it on the 13th, because it’s the first time he’s been with anyone on Valentine’s Day and he loves Steve, even if he hasn’t said it yet. He’s planning to say it for the first time that night, letting himself be vulnerable in a way he hasn’t been in a long time, but Steve has to go and ruin it.

“I’m sorry, Billy, but I can’t celebrate that night. I have a huge English test on the 14th, and it could make or break me going to college. Not all of us are smart enough that it’s guaranteed that we’ll get in everywhere we apply. I promise we’ll celebrate the next weekend.”

Billy knows he’s being a brat, but it doesn’t stop the words that come out of his mouth. “Some of us actually have to try at school. Not all of us have rich daddies who’ll take care of us if we don’t get in somewhere.”

He immediately knows from the look on Steve’s face that he’s taken things too far. Steve’s sensitive about his parent’s wealth. Billy knows that wasn’t always the case, but Steve’s tried really hard in the last year or so to eschew the protection his parent’s wealth has afforded him and tried to make it on his own. Billy’s really proud of him, and now he’s hit Steve right where it hurts.

“I’m so-“ Billy starts, but Steve cuts him off, turning towards his desk.

“I think you should go, Billy. I have studying to do.” He sits and opens the battered copy of Hamlet sitting in front of him. Billy’s supposed to help him with it, but he has a feeling his assistance is no longer wanted.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay and help?” he asks, softly.

“No thanks, I’ll call Nancy if I’m stuck.” Ouch, that one hurts. Steve knows that Billy’s not the biggest fan of Steve’s friendship with his ex, but he supposes he deserves it, so he just leaves instead of biting back.

He drives home with a lump in his throat and tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes, but he thankfully manages to hold it in until he’s back home, in his room under the covers. Once he’s there, they pour, soaking into his shirt and blanket like a heavy summer rain.

He feels stupid and embarrassed, and frankly, underneath it all, still a little upset with Steve. He knows it’s not his fault that he needs to study, but Billy wishes he was more important than anything else in the world to Steve, and right now it definitely doesn’t feel like he is.

He falls asleep with his nose stuffed and head pounding from the drove of tears, his heart hurting and feeling about two inches tall, and in the morning, he doesn’t feel much better. As soon as Neil lets him leave the table after their mandatory family time Sunday breakfast, he heads out to the nearest payphone.

He’s praying that Steve picks up, but when he gets Steve’s mom’s snotty voice telling him that they’re not home right now and to leave a message, he hangs up and tries again, achieving the same result. He stands in the phonebooth, fighting the urge to drive over to Steve’s house, knowing it’s best to give him space. That lasts about five hours.

Billy knows that Steve works that afternoon, so after a few hours of stewing in his room, chain smoking cigarettes and lifting weights, he showers, does his hair and heads over to Family Video. He can see Steve retreating into the backroom as he approaches the door, and Billy’s left to talk to Buckley.

“Hey, Billy,” she greets him, tone neutral. “If you’re looking for Steve, you just missed him. It’s dead, so I sent him home early.”

“I just saw him go into the backroom,” Billy replies, peering over her shoulder.

Robin shakes her head. “Nope, sorry. He’s not here.”

Billy sighs. “Well, if you’re talking to him anytime soon, can you tell him that I’m sorry, and I’d like a chance to tell him directly?” He can only hope that Steve can hear him from his hiding spot.

Buckley nods. “Sure, I’ll let him know.”

Billy has no reason to stay after that, but he doesn’t really want to go home yet, so he drives around for a while, eventually parking on the side of a backroad where he can sit and feel like shit in peace.

***

Steve doesn’t return the two calls Billy places to his house later that night, so Billy officially decides to wait for Steve to come to him. He doesn’t, and it tears Billy apart, especially when he gets to the cafeteria on Monday to find Steve already sitting with Nancy and Jonathan, instead of their usual table with the rest of the basketball team.

Billy sulks, barely tasting the fries he’s absentmindedly dipping in ketchup as Tommy yammers on, telling some completely made-up story about banging Wheeler’s mom at a motel on the outskirts of town the night before. He keeps trying to sneak glances at Steve and is met with sympathetic smiles from Nancy until he throws the remainder of his lunch in the trash and heads to smoke under the bleachers until the bell rings and he can at least try to focus on his classes.

***

By Tuesday night, Steve still hasn’t spoken to him, so Billy gets desperate. He heads to Hopper’s to pick up Max, bringing along, as requested a book that Max borrowed from El and forgot to return. He rings the bell and he’s greeted by Hopper who takes the book and goes to get Max.

That’s when Billy sees them, Hopper’s handcuffs, sitting near the door, not even locked. Perfect. He pockets them just before Hopper returns with Max. They drive home in silence, Billy already formulating a plan for the morning. By the time to go to bed, he’s sure this is going to work.

***

The next morning, Valentine’s Day, he gets up extra early, putting a lot of extra care and attention into how he looks. He rushes Max out the door the second she’s done eating, determined to beat Steve to school. He has to for the plan to work. He drops Max off at school, then heads to the Hawkins High parking lot to wait.

Before long, Steve arrives and Billy sprints out of the car, determined to reach his boyfriend before he can run away without hearing Billy out again. Steve tries, gathering his books and walking as fast as his long legs will allow, which is almost too fast for Billy to keep up, but he’s finally able to grab him by the back of the coat.

“Steve, I know you’re mad at me, but we need to talk. I at least want a chance to say I’m sorry for how I acted and what I said.” He gets it out in a rush before Steve can push him off.

“I’m sorry, Billy, but I’m not ready to talk yet. I’ll let you know when, ok?” he holds his books to his chest nervously, looking exhausted.

It breaks Billy’s heart, but he can’t wait any longer. He removes his handcuffed hand from his jacket pocket and gets Steve’s hand cuffed in before he can protest. “No, Steve. We’re going to talk, ok? I can’t take this anymore. If I uncuff you, do you promise that you’ll talk to me?”

Steve sighs, sounding resigned. “Fine, ok. Let me go, and I’ll give you two minutes.”

Billy’s shaking he’s so happy. The same joyful shaking causes him to drop the keys to the handcuffs down a sewer grate the second he extracts them from his pocket. He and Steve both stare at the grate in horror for a minute, as if that’s going to get the keys back, before Steve starts to panic. “What the fuck, Billy. Please tell me you have another set of keys. I have to take that test in two hours. Tell me you have a solution.”

Billy desperately wishes he could say yes. He looks up to see Steve’s face red with anger.

“I’m going to kill you Billy,” he growls.

“I thought you had a test to write? Might be kind of hard to do that from jail.” Billy knows it’s not the time for jokes, but he can’t help trying to defuse some of the tension. Not surprisingly, it doesn’t work.

Steve looks ready to throw down. “Fine. I’m going to write this stupid test, then I’m going to kill you.” He drags Billy behind him as he marches into the school.

Trying to fight the blush he can feel covering his cheeks, Billy follows Steve down the hallway towards their lockers. Of course, they’re on the far side of the school, so what feels like every single student at Hawkins High gawks at them as the metal rattles between them. Their lockers are only two apart from each other, but it’s just far enough that they can’t each get into their own at the same time, and neither wants to give into the other, so they keep pulling each other back and forth. It’s not even 9am and Bill’s already sick of this stupid plan. Sick of the cold metal cutting into his wrist, and sick of only having the use of one hand. already over this stupid plan. The only thing he accomplished was making Steve madder at him than he already was anyway. He can’t even imaging what coach is going to say when they shows up as basketball practice like this after school. Finally, after ten minutes of bickering and one near miss when the poor freshman that has the misfortune of having one of the lockers between Billy and Steve tries to get her books into hers, they‘re were on their way to home room. If there’s one thing they can be thankful for today, it’s that they have most of the same classes and the same lunch period. Billy will have to skip his own English class to accompany Steve to his own so he can write his test. Home room is fine, since it’s just Ms. Click rambling on about the upcoming fundraising bake sale that the cheerleading team is putting on in the cafeteria at lunch and a reminder to show school spirit by cheering on the Hawkins Tigers basketball team this coming Friday’s game. Billy makes a mental note to get to lunch early so he doesn’t miss out on Chrissy Cunningham’s chocolate cupcakes. Steve loves chocolate. Maybe that’ll cheer him up a bit and get him to finally listen to Billy’s apology. It hasn’t occur to either him or Steve until they get to math class that that writing will be a problem since Steve’s right handed and Billy’s left handed, and of course it’s Steve’s right hand and Billy’s left that’re cuffed together. For fuck sake. They just can’t win. Mr. Jones eyes them suspiciously when they slide their desks together. “Hargrove, Harrington. What are you two doing back there?” He makes his way to the back of the room, and they hold up their wrists for his inspection.

“A stupid dare,” Steve mutters. “We’re going to deal with it as soon as we can, but we didn’t want to miss any schoolwork.”

After the amount of classes they’ve both skipped, Mr. Jones can’t really argue with that, so he leaves them to it.

The majority of the class is spent dragging their conjoined hands back and forth, leaving pencil marks all over their desks and papers, until Billy promises that he’ll share his notes with Steve later if Steve lets him do the writing. It really isn’t much better that way though, what with having to drag Steve along with him every time he moves his pencil.

And Steve isn’t doing much to help, turning his hand into a dead weight, lower lip stuck out like a pouting child. Billy takes a deep breath, stopping himself before he can say anything rude or hurtful. He got them into this mess in the first place, so he just has to take what Steve gives.

They tell the same tale to their history teacher, Ms. Simmons, and she leaves them be, so that class goes much the same, Billy writing notes and Steve making it as difficult as possible.

Halfway through class, he can see Steve start to tense up out of the corner of his eye, looking paler than he did earlier, and a little green, and at first Billy thinks Steve’s going to be sick. There’s been a bug floating around the school for the past month, so he’s not surprised. He prepares himself to run to the garbage can in the corner of the room, but then he remembers Steve’s upcoming test.

“Hey,” he whispers, trying to get Steve’s attention.

Steve barely spares him a glance, but Billy can tell he’s listening. “You’re going to do great on your test. I promise. I know you know your stuff; we’ve been studying for weeks with our special method. The special method had been that for each question Steve got right, Billy took off an article of clothing, and he if got them all right, Billy would suck his dick. It had been a rousing success.

Steve turns slightly, giving Billy the barest hint of a smile. “I know, I’m just worried that Mrs. Cartwright won’t let me take the test with you attached to my wrist. What if she says no? What then?”

Billy longs to run a soothing hand over his back, but he doesn’t think that’ll be received too well, so he settles for what he hopes are reassuring words. “Come on, pretty boy, you know how much Mrs. C likes me. I’ll sweet talk her into t if I have to.” He throws in a wink for good measure, and Steve only grimaces slightly in return. Billy will take that as a win.

The next awkward scenario they encounter is the washroom. Billy votes to hold it all day, but Steve insists he has to piss before English. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to focus with a full bladder, man.”

Billy sighs. “Maybe you should have forgone your three morning coffees for once.”

Steve turns to him, and if looks could kill, Billy would be dead right now. “You know I need caffeine to wake up in the mornings, and it’s not like I knew I was going to be chained to someone all day when I drank them!”

Ok, fair point.

Billy lets Steve drag him into the washroom, and tries not to look as Steve whips his dick out. They finish up quickly, and head to Steve’s English class. Hopefully his own English teacher doesn’t miss him too much. He’s sure she won’t though. He’s been on rocky ground in that class since he challenged her opinions on the Great Gatsby a couple weeks ago.

Mrs. Cartwright is on them the second they enter the class, handcuffs clanking between them. “Good morning, Steven,” She says, an amused smile on her face. “You’ve brought a visitor with you today? You know I can’t allow that on a regular day, let alone when we have a test.”

Billy gives her a megawatt smile, stepping in front of Steve to explain. “Hi, Mrs. C., I know Steve has a test today, but I’m hoping you’ll still let him write it, even with me hanging around. Literally.” He holds up their attached wrists and she rolls her eyes at his lame attempt at a joke but lets him go on. “It’s my fault that we’re cuffed together. It was a stupid prank and I take full responsibility for it. So please let Steve write the test. I know it’s important. Please, please let him write it.”

At first, she seems unsure of what to say, but thankfully, she must hear the sincerity in his tone, because she relents. “Alright, you can both stay, but not a peep out of you the entire class, Mr. Hargrove, and if you guys show up like this again tomorrow, I’m not letting you in.”

They agree, and take their seats, Steve visibly shaking as he sits down. Mrs. Cartwright distributes the tests, and Billy whispers to Steve, trying to remind him to take calming breaths. Steve does, then resumes tapping his pencil on his desk.

Mrs. Cartwright puts the test facedown on Steve’s desk, wishing him luck as she walks away.

Once she says they can, the students flip over the tests. Billy pulls a book out his bag and ready with his free hand while letting Steve drag his left hand all over. He seems to be writing quickly, which Billy thinks is a good thing. He just hopes that Steve’s taking enough time to think his answers through. He really needs a good mark on this.

In the blink of an eye, the bell is ringing to signify the end of class, and with it, the test. Steve drops his pencil and lets out a breath so big, Billy thinks he may have been holding it in for weeks. His shoulders visibly relax, and the jittering doesn’t fully stop, but it lessens.

“Can I buy you lunch?” Billy asks.

Steve doesn’t reply, but he does nod, so Billy takes that as a yes. They stop at their lockers to drop off their books, better coordinated than they were earlier in the morning, aided by the fact that the girl they bumped into earlier sees them and turns right back around the way she came.

Books deposited securely in their lockers, they head to the cafeteria, making a beeline for the bake sale table and Chrissy’s cupcakes. Billy shells out for four of them, much to Chrissy’s delight, her ponytail bouncing and smile a mile wide as she hands them over.

“How are you and Munson doing? He get you anything for Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks as she takes the bills Billy hands her. The previous fall, Cunningham and her boyfriend, Jason, had broken up, and to everyone’s shock, she’d taken up with Eddie Munson, guitarist for local band Corroded Coffin, leader of Hawkins High’s DnD club, and the town’s premier drug dealer. Billy had been surprised, but she seemed genuinely happy for the first time since he’d met her, so who’s he to judge?

“We’re good. Really good.” Her smile grows impossibly wider as she fishes something out from her uniform. It’s a chain with a guitar pick swinging from it. It’s sweet, and Billy’s happy to see that she’s being treated right.

Billy hands Steve the plate of cupcakes and leads him to the lunch line, where he buys them both a burger, fries, and a coke. They sit with the basketball team, Billy telling them to shove off when they start ribbing them for spending Valentine’s Day of all day attached to each other.

“But-“ Tommy tried to get out.

“This is the last time I tell you to shut your fucking mouth, Hagan.” Billy says, his eyes like daggers as he tosses a fry at the idiots head.

“I think I need a smoke. Steve, join me?”

“It’s not like I have a choice” Steve grumbles, grabbing his bag.

Tommy stands to join them, and Billy shoots him a look. “Not you, asshole.”

Tommy sits, and Billy and Steve make their way out to the bleachers.

“So, who do these belong to anyway, Hopper?” Steve asks as Billy lights his smoke for him. “He’s going to kill you when he finds out.”

Billy nods, filing that away as a conversation he’s not eager to have, right along with the one he knows Steve’s going to want to have with him about his recent behaviour.

They smoke in silence for a few minutes, giving Billy just a little bit longer, but soon, Steve turns to him.

“So, you wanna talk about why you handcuffed us together this morning, Bills?”

“It’s stupid,” Billy mumbles. “Embarrassing.” He takes one last puff of his smoke before stubbing it out under his boot.

Steve motions for him to continue.

“At first, I was just upset because I wanted to celebrate Valentine’s Day with you. I’ve never had a valentine before, and I got all excited.”

Steve had a hint of a smile on his face as he bumped Billy’s shoulder with his own. “Awwwww, I’m your valentine, Billy? I’m honoured.”

“Shut it, Harrington.” Billy replied, but there was no heat behind it. “Anyway, I know I was being a baby about it, but I wanted a special night for the two of us. We don’t get to do special a lot. But then I had to go act like an idiot and ruin it all. Sorry, again, by the way, for what I said. I still feel like a piece of shit about it.

I just built it up so big in my head, and got scared that it wouldn’t just be a little breathing room, and that you’d never talk to me again, so I got desperate. Hence the handcuffs. Clearly not my best idea ever. And now you’re pissed at me, and Hopper is going to be pissed at me.

It’s just that we’re reaching the end of our senior year. We might not end up going to college together, and are we really going to make long distance work? If you even want to try long distance? I never even bothered to ask. Maybe you want your freedom, so you can bang other people. Then you’re going to meet a chick and marry her, and where will that leave me?” Billy knew he was rambling but was finding it hard to stop.

“Woah,” Steve said, placing a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “First, I’m not pissed at you, Billy. I mean, I am, about the handcuffs, but not the other stuff. Yes, I was upset about what you said, but I know you don’t mean it, and we all say things we don’t mean when we’re upset, sometimes. Honestly, I should have communicated better. I just needed some time to get the studying done. We’re going to have to talk through the other stuff later, but I promise you that I have no intention of running off with someone else. I like you a lot, and we have a good thing going. I don’t want to lose that. If I forgive you, will you forgive me?”

Billy nodded. “Deal. Now, we have a couple hours until basketball practice. We can’t skip, because you know how much shit coach gave us last time, but until then, can I take my valentine for a milkshake at Benny’s? I promise, as soon as my dad and Susan are gone tonight, I’ll talk to Hopper and figure out how to get these things off.”

“Ok,” Steve nodded, his smile brightening. “I’ll allow it.”

***

Benny, the owner of Benny’s Burgers, is rumoured to be in a relationship with Mr. Scott, the middle school science teacher, so his restaurant is Billy and Steve’s favourite. They feel comfortable and safe there.

Benny barely bats an eye at the handcuffs when he brings them their shake, nor does he mention the fact that he’s put two straws in one strawberry shake. In fact, when they try to pay, he says it’s on the house, a kind smile on his face.

Billy and Steve sit and talk for over an hour, reminiscing about the memories they’ve made in their time together, and laughing about the time they spent as rivals when Billy first rolled into Hawkins. It seems silly now, to think that there was a time that they weren’t best friends, lovers, and so much more.

Once they’ve drained the milkshake and they’re skirting on the edge of the school day, they head back to Hawkins High to face the coach.

***

It’s not until they get to the locker room that they realize that since they’re attached, they can’t change into their gym shirts. They walk out into the gym in their standard issue green Hawkins High gym shorts, Billy in a grey Henley and his jean jacket, and Steve in a blue and pink striped polo.

“Harrington, Hargrove, what the hell is going on?” Coach asks, the second they step into the gym, his eyes laser focused on them.

“Well…”

“Ummm…”

“Laps. The both of you. No stopping until practice is over.” He shakes his head. “Not sure why I would expect anything more from my co-captains…”

Well, that could have gone much worse, Billy thinks, as he and Steve start to jog around the perimeter of the gym. It’s hard for them to keep pace with each other, as Steve’s longer legs lend to longer strides, but they do their best to meet in the middle.

They try to take their punishment seriously, for the sake of saving face with the coach, but it’s hard with the stupid handcuffs clanging between them. He’s starting to feel like he and Steve are prisoners on the run. At first, it’s just a giggle that escapes him, but before long, Steve joins in, and they get louder and louder, until they can barely move, doubled over with laughter.

“Are you two looking to stay an extra hour and run some more laps?” Coach calls from the other side of the gym. That shuts them up quick. They need to get out of here as soon as possible and get these stupid things off.

Finally practice ends, and after they put the balls away in the equipment storage room, per the coach’s instructions, and head to the locker room to shower. It doesn’t occur to them until that point that that won’t be easy. Billy votes for just skipping the shower, but Steve votes shower and Billy is hardly going to argue with him.

Billy has to remember to try to look uncomfortable having Steve’s naked body so close to him. It’s not easy, because fuck, he has a beautiful body and Billy’s obsessed with it. But he has to remain calm. No boners allowed.

Steve showers first, with Billy holding Steve’s shirt at his wrist, trying as best as he can to keep it out of the spray of the shower, but Steve has no such concerns for Billy’s body. He does everything he can to make sure Billy gets as wet as possible. When he’s sure no one is looking, he throws Billy a wink.

Steve takes forever to finish his shower, one handed as he is. It’s not exactly like Billy can help him without raising suspicions Once Steve is done and toweled off, he holds Billy’s shirt while he has his turn. He’s quick about it because he knows Max will be waiting.

When they get out to the Camaro, Max is leaning against it, backpack slung over one shoulder and her skateboard under one arm.

“Hey, shitbird,” Billy says, by way of greeting.

“Hey, Max.” Steve adds, tisking fondly at Billy.

“Hey, asshole… and Steve?” Max replies as she hops into the backseat and buckles her seatbelt. Once she’s in, Billy and Steve begin awkwardly shuffling into the car, Steve having to climb awkwardly over the centre console, almost hitting his head on the way over.

“Do I even want to know what this is about?” Max asks, sighing.

Billy isn’t sure what to say. Max knows he and Steve are friends, but he can never be sure if that’s all she knows, and he’s definitely not going to ask.

Steve just laughs. “Probably not.”

Thankfully, she doesn’t mention it again, except to ask where they got the cuffs, and what they’re going to do about it.

“They’re Hopper’s. You up for a trip to see El at the cabin this evening?”

“Oh shit,” she laughs. “He’s going to kill you when he finds out you took his handcuffs. And lost the keys. And he’s having Joyce over tonight. He rented El and Will a movie and he’s ordering them pizza and making Joyce a nice dinner. He’s gonna be extra pissed at you for interrupting that.”

Billy gulps. Of course, this can’t be easy. And on top of that, he has to somehow explain to Neil how he came to have Steve Harrington handcuffed to him. He asks Max if she has any ideas about how to get around that.

“Simple,” she says, way to comfortable with making up lies on the spot. “You call Neil from and my mom from the arcade and tell him you’ve brought me there to play some games for a bit. My mom isn’t making dinner tonight, so they won’t care. As long as you guys are detached by the time they get home at 10, you’ll be good.”

Billy nods and Steve thanks her. She’s a genius.

***

The plan goes off without a hitch, Susan quickly agreeing, telling Billy to have Max home in time to do her homework.

That taken care of, Steve insists on taking Max for a burger before they head to Joyce’s, so they head back to Benny’s for the second time that day.

This time, they actually spot Mr. Clarke among the crowd of kids grabbing an after school snack to ruin their dinner with. He’s sitting at the counter, and Benny’s handing him a plate of heart shaped pancakes, with bacon on top, also arranged in the shape of a heart. The two men are having a lively conversation of some sort, Mr. Clarke’s arms waving all around, as if explaining something, and Benny’s head is thrown back in laughter. It makes Billy smile to see them together. It gives Billy hope for his future with Steve, seeing two older queer men living a happy, comfortable life.

Once they’re done there, they head to Joyce’s house. Billy thinks about calling ahead but decides it might honestly be better to just show up unannounced. There’s a small chance that he’ll yell less in person. Or maybe he’ll yell more. Only one way to find out.

Once they arrive at the Byers’ house, they get out of the car and walk up to the front door, placing Max in front of them for protection. They ring the bell and wait. Will appears at the front door a minute later, El peering over his shoulder.

“Uh, hey guys, is Hopper here?” Even as he says it, he can already hear Hopper’s heavy footfall as he makes his way to the door.

El and Will retreat back into the living room and they’re face to face with Hopper, his arms crossed over his chest. “So, here to return something to me?” Of course, he’s already figured out it was Billy that took the cuffs. Max, the little rat, pushes past him to join El and Will.

Billy gives Hopper his most charming grin as he holds up his and Steve’s conjoined wrists. “Sorry? Please help get them off?” It comes out like a question, and he flinches, waiting for Hopper to tear into them.

Hopper sighs. “You know, I’m not even going to ask what happened here. I’m way too happy today to care. Please just promise that it won’t happen again. Ok? Just one question though, why didn’t you just use the keys?”

Billy and Steve mumble something about the sewer grate, and Hopper just shakes his head. He grabs his coat, leading them out to his shed. Minutes later, after some assistance from a pair of bolt cutters, they’re free. They both rub their wrists, sighing in relief and thanking Hopper.

“You know,” Hopper says, as they head back to the house. “If there’s somewhere you’d rather be tonight than watching Max, we’ve already ordered a pizza for Will and El, and they’ve rented a movie. Max can stay, if you want to pick her up at about 9?”

They take him up on the offer immediately, thanking him profusely. Billy lets Max know the plan for the evening, then he and Steve hop in the car and head to Steve’s house as quickly as they can. They’ve got three hours, and it feels like they've got a lot of lost time to make up for.

Once they’re in Steve’s bed though, they take it slowly, because what’s a few days when they think of all the years they’ll be together. Really, they’ve got all the time in the world.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove fic #valentine's day #harringrove valentine #my fic #chrisbitchtree writes

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twdsunshine · 2 years

Note

Hey hun!! I saw this prompt earlier and thought it would make a great line for Daryl. Maybe you could do something with it.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear about this. You stay here and rest, I go find your attackers and teach them not to mess with the people I love. Got it?”

It had been stupid to wander off on your own; you knew that now. But the tension on the farm had become almost more than you could stand, each and every day fraught with conflict. It thickened the air, so that every breath you dragged into your lungs tasted bitter with it, and so you’d stolen away into the woods, thinking that perhaps losing yourself amongst the trees for a little while might bring you a little peace.

Instead, you’d run into a group of survivors: three men armed with knives and shotguns, who had taken far more interest in you than you were comfortable with. You’d taken one hell of a beating, your smart tongue earning you more than one boot in the ribs, and it had only been their disagreement as to who would get to take you first that gave you the precious seconds you needed to get away.

Now, as you stumbled from the treeline into the open field that marked the border of Hershel’s land, every part of you ached, and it was all you could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other until a startled yell froze you in place.

Daryl was at your side in an instant, his arm slipping around your waist to keep you upright as he took in your bruised and battered state, eyes narrowing in concern. “What the hell happened?”

“There were… men. Out in the woods. Three- three of them.” You coughed at the effort of forcing out the words, and the bowman’s gaze slipped to the darkening fingerprints that marred your throat. “They were gonna… They wanted to…”

“The fuck?” He was angry now, his worry slipping seamlessly into rage and his grip on you tightening until you whimpered and pulled away.

“They- they didn’t,” you stammered out. “I got away. But they’re still out there.”

“Get yer ass back to camp,” he snarled, already swinging his bow down from his shoulder and holding it aloft, every inch of his stance dangerous and predatory. “Where’d this happen?”

“T-top of the ridge. I can show you.”

“No.”

“Daryl-”

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear about this,” he snapped, and you winced at the ice in his tone. “You stay here and rest, I go find your attackers and teach them not to mess with the people I love. Got it?”

Your eyes widened at the same time that your legs gave way, and only his quick move to catch you kept you standing as he let his weapon drop and held you against him. “The people you… you…?”

The flush that flared across Daryl’s cheeks softened his angular features, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on the chapped flesh as if waiting for the moment to pass. “Let’s get ya to the doc. Need ta make sure nothin’s broke.”

“You love me?”

“I din’t say that.”

“You kinda did.”

“Ain’t what I meant,” he told you, eyeing you warily, and you offered him a shy smile, suddenly very aware that you were still cradled to his chest, your hands clutching the leather of his vest. He was warm and firm and so comforting after your ordeal that all you really wanted was to cling to him for just a little longer. “C’mon, gotta get out there ‘fore them assholes disappear.”

“No, Daryl, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I won’t!”

“You might! It’s not worth it, okay?”

His gaze combed over you once more as he stepped back, and his resolve was only strengthened by the blood that was now visible soaking through the fabric of your shirt. “Yer worth it,” he insisted, and when he took you by surprise, stooping to brush a chaste kiss against your lips, so soft that you barely felt the ghost of his touch, his face flamed red once again. He ducked his head to hide his blush. “M’gonna do whatever it takes to keep ya safe, ya hear me? Ain’t nobody gonna hurt ya again.”

#the walking dead #the walking dead drabbles #daryl dixon #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon x reader #twd #twd drabbles

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aikowanders · 2 years

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Aight I’m seeing a lot of class based headcanons in destiny that leave Warlocks as book nerds, hunters as the weird fun ones, and titans as stupid. So let me lay it out because these classes are so much more than that. These are though, at the end of the day, just my own headcanons. This is not organized in any real way, just whatever I can think of. Going for more detail of each headcanon than a lot of smaller headcanons.

Titans:

-NOT STUPID, like jesus christ everyone calls them crayon eaters and dumb as shit but that’s so not true! Titans may not have the same type of intelligence as warlocks but they’re equally as smart. They’re master tacticians with a lot of charisma. Look at the titans in the tower, Saint-14, Zavala, and Shaxx. Shaxx’s risky plan at the twilight gap might have saved humanity from a massive disaster. He’s loud, yes, but if you listen to him outside of the Crucible, he’s incredibly wise with a lot of lessons to teach the guardians. Zavala is the commander of all the Vanguards forces, he has saved the city (or at least commanded the forces who save the city) more times than anyone can count, he’s a bit of a stick in the mud but when you’re the leader of the military protecting the last of humanity, you kind of have to be a stick in the mud. But you don’t keep that kind of position by being an idiot. And Saint-14, who dives into a surprisingly deep about of philosophy about what it means to be good, a hero. He’s goofy, sure, but so is shaxx at times. My point is, Titans are incredibly smart, but it’s not the same booksmart that everyone sees in the Warlocks.

-Their apartments are probably full of gifts from people they’ve saved. No matter how small, the lives they protect define them as titans, from great banners that city elders have given them in thanks to little coins or toys that the children give. Their apartment is a reminder of who they are, what they stand for. Though don’t get me wrong, they do love their classic movies, weapon collections, 53 copies of The Art of War in every room, and my god you cannot forget the extra supplies for if they have guests. Guardians are probably plagued with nightmares, so it’s not uncommon to find the nearest Titan’s apartment to stop by for comfort food and a burly shoulder to rest your head on.

-Titans probably love to go for walks through the city. What’s the point of protecting everyone if you don’t remind yourself why you’re doing it? To see the smiles on the children’s faces, the laughter in the streets, the loud music of parties, everything about the city is a reminder of what’s worth fighting for. Even if it’s a hopeless fight, even if the city will fall one day, be it tomorrow or a thousand years from now. Giving these people a chance to laugh, to scream, to cry, to feel, to LIVE, that’s why a Titan’s job is so important. This isn’t exclusive to titans of course, I think every class has these walks through the city (maybe not hunters as much), but I think it resonates with titans the most. Oh don’t forget the fact that there is a not 0% chance of a titan walking into the random birthday party you’re celebrating to join the fun. Might be awkward at first, but NO ONE lightens a party like a titan. Even if it’s a party for kids, they’ll play hide and go seek, tag, whatever just to have a good time with people.

-I think a Titan’s ship is clean and efficient. And big, probably. They are as much a weapon and tool as anything else in a Titan’s arsenal. It’s sharpened like a blade, polished like armor, and respected like a fireteam member. Their ship takes them where ever they need to go and it’s treated with that kind of respect. They may even adorn the outside of the ship to make it look more fancy. I’d say a titan treats their ship like a garage queen, old, maybe even battered in the past, but it’s kept in tip top shape. And they will name it and talk to it while they fly. Classic, “That’s my girl!” type of behavior.

Hunters:

-Hmm, I think the biggest misconception is that hunters are either always brooding or always silly. Even looking at Cayde-6, the definition of a silly goofy hunter had moments of seriousness. I’m pretty sure Ikora has talked about having meaningful conversations with him. And you can see very clearly after his ghost dies that he has this more, serious aspect of him. Sure it could have just been the fact he knew he was about to die but, I’d like to think we got a glimpse at the real Cayde. And I think most hunters are like that as well. And I think it’s because they’re so isolated most of the time. Hunters can go days, weeks, months without seeing any friends life. Without talking to anyone. They spend most of their time in silence, stalking, scouting, or just exploring. So I think when they are around other guardians, they take up this goofy personality because well, they want to make the most of their time with friends. It’s no use being the same isolationist they’re used to, they’re not going to be able to enjoy other people’s company for long, so might as well make the most of it. And as for the brooding ones (besides just being the hunter playbase being a little more edgy), I think those hunters are scared to get close to people. With how little they see anyone, it’s best to not make connections. To stay on the outskirts of society, only coming to the tower to drop off intel or grab supplies. Either way, I do think hunters have a much more deep emotional side to them. Just instead of relying on emotional relationships, they connect with the world around them. They hear the trees whisper on the wind, see the clouds dance in the sky, feel the ground beneath them tell stories with each step. They don’t need relationships as much as they other classes because they’re at home anywhere, making friends with every tale the world has to tell.

-On a less serious note, I think I agree with another apartment headcannon on hunters. They are empty. Barren. No decorations, no supplies, nothing. Practically looks like no one lives there. Because hunters canonically never visit the tower unless they absolutely have to. And besides, if a hunter needs a base, they have plenty hidden in trees and caves all around the solar system. Some dusty old apartment is nothing compared to a mfing TREE HOUSE

-I think hunters want to leave the solar system more than anyone else, with warlocks in a close second. The speaker talked about how during the golden age, humans believed it was their destiny to travel among the stars. To see what the galaxy, or even universe has to offer. And I think hunters still agree with that. They look up at the sky to see the thousands of stars, knowing that’s only in our galaxy. And are left staring for hours thinking about what is out there, what is to be seen, to be explored. What can sol not show us that the infinite stars in the sky could.

-Hunters are amazing artists. I mean when you’re left on your own out in the wilds for years, you gotta have some hobby to keep you. And drawing is perfect, you can do it anywhere, on anything, of anything. And with how many beautiful sights they see, they sure as hell have a lot of inspiration. There are hunters who will set up a whole ass camp just to paint a single river. And on the flip side there are hunters who will draw their friends faces into the bark of trees with a knife, just to make sure they don’t forget what they look like. It’s rare to come across one of these art pieces, but they’re always left undisturbed. They are made of the wilds and deserver to be left in the wilds.

-Hunter ships are a mess. Mainly because it’s their most permanent living space. It’s got food wrappers, drawings, intel storage... things, little collectables, a comfy bed, it’s a home more than any other ship. And while they don’t treat it with the physical respect that Titans do, they talk to their ships all the same. A lot of Hunter ships will end up looking like Junkers though, not because they don’t take good care of them, in fact they put a lot of effort into making sure their ship works perfectly, but they care about the ship working, not looking nice. So if they find some golden age tech that they can slap into their ship to make it work better, hell yeah that bitch is getting upgraded. So in the end it just looks like an amalgamation of spare parts and rattling metal. But it’ll fly faster, straighter, and more reliably than any other ship in the solar system.

And finally, Warlocks:

-I think hands down easily the biggest Warlock misconception is that all they do is read all day. HELL NO, Warlocks will give hunters a run for their money when it comes to exploring a new planet. I mean come on, you can’t expect a class to be obsessed with knowledge and learning without fucking B lining it for every new planet in the hopes of discovering what new knowledge there is to be found. Hunters explore for the sake of exploring, and to an extent Warlocks do too, but Warlocks are MUCH more interested in uncovering the mysteries of old. It’s not uncommon for Hunters to run into a Warlock who’s gotten to some golden age facility first. The difference in that Warlocks will go back to the tower very frequently to drop off whatever they think they’ll need. Which, spoilers, is a lot. They’ll pick up a rusty wrench because it has slightly less rust than the last one they found. They have hundreds of hand written books and intel logs detailing everything they find. They thrive off of information gathering, because there’s no better way to learn than to be out in the field experiencing it first hand.

-Warlock apartments? Come on, they’re an absolute mess. Towers of books that they’ve written or found detailing lifetimes worth of knowledge. Artifacts from all over, each having some kind of significance to the Warlock. Whiteboards with theories about the origins of, whatever they fuck they’re talking about this week. Trash and dishes everywhere because who has time to clean when you could be LEARNING. BUT, AND THIS IS IMPORTANT, They always have a room dedicated to nothing but themselves. Every Warlock knows that Ikora recommends Warlocks to slow down when possible. She always talks about introspection and reflection. Talking about how we can’t forget about what makes us who we are. To find something to laugh about, to cry about, to love or to hate. Something to make us feel. And most Warlocks will take that to heart. Dedicating a small room of their apartment that is free of the mess for meditation or a personal hobby. Some Warlocks enjoy writing in their free time, not about the information they’ve gathered, but fiction of a world with strife, or a world where guardians never existed. Some enjoy knitting, maybe even being taught by Zavala if they’re lucky. Point is, this room is for them. But that doesn’t mean other guardians cannot enter it. In fact, if you go over to a Warlocks apartment, expect to hang out in their personal room. I mean, socialization is a destresser, a way to reconnect with eachother, and what better room to do that in?

-Warlocks love to ramble. A lot. Like a few days straight a lot. I mean how can they have so much information without anyone to share it with? Yeah sure, the Vanguard will take it on a professional level, but it’s not the same as sitting someone down and explaining all the specifics. The theories that official reports don’t allow, the passion of saying it directly to someone, the joy of seeing the other person genuinely listen. They crave being able to ramble to someone, and while other warlocks will love to listen and wait for their turn to share, guardians are busy folks. So there are a few Warlock Cafe style resturants in the city, where any warlock is welcome to come in, sit down with a human who wants to learn about the outside world, and just ramble at them. Humans love it because, well, you don’t learn a lot about the outside world when you’re trapped in a city, and warlocks love it because no matter how seemingly small the details are, the humans eat it up with more enthusiasm than any guardian could have. And of course there’s food and drink, and on the more busy days warlocks are limited to how long they can go on for, there’s only so many of these cafes after all. And humans are welcome to stop the Warlock and leave at any time. This is not seen as rude because Guardians seem to not need to sleep and eat as much as humans do, and without knowing better, a Warlock could easily outlast a human when it comes to not eating or sleeping. But still, it’s a fun activity for both Warlocks and Humans to participate in. (Also I’m saying guardian and human despite guardians also being part of humanity just because it’s easier.)

-Warlock ships are actually pretty similar to Hunters. Not as Rust Bucket looking because they can always go back to the tower for repairs or upgrades, but they’re also a second home. I mean with how much research they do, they need a mobile operations base in order to catalogue and dissect what they find. So yes, they have a lot of trash, books, and artifacts, but think of it more as a mad scientist’s lair than a comfortable home. It’s messy but it’s functional, and given that they actually do tend to live in the tower and go back there a lot, their ship doesn’t always have to be that comfortable either, though some warlocks will go the extra mile to make it so. The outside of a warlock’s ship is nothing to really pay much mind to. It’s got scratched up paint, bumps and bruises. They make sure it flies and won’t explode on them, but they’re not too worried about it looking fancy. It’s a mobile operations base, not a showpiece.

These are my overall thoughts on the classes. I think there’s a lot of steryotypes for each class that isn’t fully correct, and I don’t think it does these classes full justice to not explore them more. Titans aren’t stupid, hunters aren’t all goofy or brooding, and Warlocks don’t sit in libraries all day. I do have some inherant bias, I’m a Warlock main and I take pride in that fact. But hopefully everyone can find something they can connect with when it comes to the class theuy feel closest to. <3

#Destiny #Destiny 2 #Titan #Hunter #Warlock #Destiny Headcanon #I wanted to write this really bad for some reason #I was going through the destiny tag and just saw a lot of stuff I didn't fully agree with and wanted to put my two cents out there

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jentlemahae · 5 months

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It’s so telling that the unanimous complaint everyone has about batter up is that it sounds like a 2NE1/bp reject. The outro is very 2nd gen and anon pointed it out but I think that trumpet sample is the same one as money. Baemon were always going to be compared to their seniors as they are 2 of the most iconic kpop girl groups of all time.

Yes people did/do compare 2NE1 and bp but other than them being 4 member girl crush ggs they’re not that similar. But YG have made it extremely difficult not to directly compare baemon to bp. First of all the name “babymonster” is literally a name that bp rejected. More importantly though is the copying of the concept itself. Bp’s whole concept is black and pink, pretty and savage.. so far at least baemon’s is identical. One of the lines in batter up is “I’m pretty and kind but watch how I turn into a monster”. Is that not the exact same?

Bp - we may seem unassuming bcs we’re pretty but we’re actually badass

Baemon - we may seem unassuming bcs we’re young but we’re actually badass

I don’t think giving your new group the same concept as your previous group is a good move at all. Imagine if SM gave their new group an AI concept. It’s just stupid!!

couldn’t have said it better !!!! basically everything about baemon so far has been incredibly similar to bp, which is just awful bcs if u have the most popular gg of the moment in your company and u debut another gg, the smart thing to do would be to make sure there are not that many similarities people can complain about, instead of trying to do a carbon copy !!!! that’s just stupid !!!! and again, it feels so disrespectful to those girls bcs they’re not even allowing them to form their own identity as a group

#anonymous #sophie ask

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eonsadrft · 1 year

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KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. ( REPOST DO NOT REBLOG ! )

Let’s goooooo ~~

NAME: N or Noir

PRONOUNS: he / him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: tumblr ims aaaaaand discord, if we interacted you can ask for my discord

NAME OF MUSE(S): hahaha... Let’s start:

FFXIV: fandaniel, my OC WoL, and other OCs in general

Yu-gi-oh: Pharaoh Atem, Yuugi, Seto Kaiba, Slifer, even the damn Kuriboh

BSD: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Edogawa Ranpo and an OC

DRRR!!: Izaya Orihara

Pokemon: (N)atural Gropius Harmonia

Undertale: Sans, G!Sans (AU)

D. Gray Man: Allen Walker

Kingdom Hearts: Roxas, Sora, Vanitas

MysMe: 707

OFF (Game): The Batter

GenPact: Diluc (discord only), this man, the WANDERER

And probably many more but I didn’t write them on tumblr, yup.

EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): Holy fuck if I start I don’t shut up. I started RPing with my close friends when I was... 10? 12? When I finally can use a PC? When I started to use Tumblr I was like... 16?? And from that I’ve been going and leaving time to time, trying characters, memeing around, knowing people... I think I improved my writing a lot thanks to this hellsite.

PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: discord, tumblr, skype (once), msn (god ol’ times), twitter (I don’t like it).

BEST EXPERIENCE: The people I met. I know I lost contact with some, or I’d never talk with them anymore, but the RPs I have done with them have been the best. I loved all my RP partners and I’ll always miss them.

RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS: people who doesnt trim posts or reblogging a lot of ooc stuff? I guess I like to have my blog clean just as my dashboard. When I come here is to read or write cool shit or watching some fanart but nothing more.

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: COMEDY. I’m a total meme okay sorry. But if I have to choose, I’m between angst and fluff. Angst is the best to make the character improve (or not) and fluff...... sheesh, I just love writing stupid romantic stuff for my baby muses. For me they all are like a babies to me. Smut I write it rarely, and if I do I prefer in private.

PLOTS OR MEMES: MEMES- Okay but plotting when there’s an idea goes perfect, so both, yes both.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: depends on the mood of the day, I like to write more or less the same length as my rp partner? I like to share what my muses think most of the time.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: I dunno, I remember long ago it was in my nights, lately it has been in my mornings, but my mood swings a lot lately so I can’t choose.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): mostly no... but at the same time yes. They are more exaggerated than me. They did things I would never do. I think my empathy helped me to understand these characters and write my own interpretation. I like masterminds but I’m not that smart... but one thing I would love and you will always see in my muses are the chaotic vibes they give from afar. Always. That’s a part of me I give to them.

tagged by: @erabundus ( thank youuuuuuu ♥ ) tagging: dunno imma just tag ppl I have in my drafts (I don’t forget about our threads I swear and if you did this oh well just ignore the tag sdjkfhsdk) @al-hazen , @praeteritus-memories , @abyssmalice , @mcwscollective , @scarletooyoroi , @vixlenxe , @dcndrohina , @mrcyclopsfan , @visionkept , @saints-sorrow ....... and you if you’re reading this, oh my I have a lot of followers please tag me if you’re doing it and wanna show ♥

#— Out of Character. / N TALKS.#( it's not munday but today I dont feel like writing so I leave this here )#( I only will say: I hate this website but it will make me find cool people so that's why I keep appearing here )#( okay enough for toDAY )

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alec-1016 · 1 year

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hi, this is a sleep-drunk vent session. pls feel free to ignore

cw: childhood.(idk, its not trauma, but it wasnt pleasant), internalized ableism, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, depression, anxiety, mentions of ed, sh and su1cide

also spelling errors

so, i just wanna vent abt liking shit. i grew up in a very privileged house, w both my parents being uni professors, so it was a very...intellectual house

i also grew up autistic. i was very often praised for being "good", quiet, smart, speaking in words too advanced for my age, reading and writing abovd my grade level, etc. so it kinda became "obvious" that i would become intellectually inclined, like my parents and older sisters

oh yeah, there is an eleven year age gap between me and my older sister, and a fourteen year gap begween me and my oldest sister. i grew up with adults.

there were barely any chdren for me to play w outside of school, so i decided i was better off alone. i read, drew, madr up complex imaginary scenarios in my head. i also tried to listen in and even participate in the adults discussions, and that also got me praise. i have always been a people pleaser.

so after i grew a bit, by like, middle school, i thiught i couldnt like kids things anymore. but i ciuldnt like teen things either bc i wasnt old enough for that. so i didnt really like stuff. i hid my special interests(harry p*tter🤢🤢 and riordanverse, mostly) from basically everyone, and threw myself into school

i have had anxiety ever since i can remember, and some symptoms of depression presented as early as 11. i have a cousin that is also deeply depressed, and that has been throigh roigher patchrs than i have. i always saw her as kinda my reslomsability, bc i was "well" and she wasnt. well, bc of all that, she loved to make fum of me. her parents used to unintentionally put us against each other and compare us, bc i wad the golden child and she was FUCKING DEPRESSED AND DIDNT LIKE SCHOOL BC PPL KEPT BULLYING HER AND COMPARING HER TO ME.

she made fun of everything i liked, and sometimes i even discovered that she liked the stuff too, she just wanted to seem batter than me in something. which i got at the time, and still get, but it fucking hurt and it made me fearful of ever liking things, in fear of being made fun of

which takes me to another place: school. i was made fun of for basically everything, and i just recently realized i was bullied for my autistic traits: not getting jokes and sarcasm, speaking differently, being too nerdy, too shy, too stupid, too slow, too much. i was always too much and never enough at the same time, never enough for ppm to like me

dont get me wrong i had friends. some amazing ppl that i still hold dear, some not so much. but it was hard knowing most of my class didnt care for me.

i also went through a "not like other girls" phase, where i thought if i liked boybands, tvshows, celebrities, gossip, etc, i was the most vain and uninteresting human being to ever exist, and no one would like me. so i forced myself to walk away. i didnt have a boyband phase or a tv show i binged untill i was 14/15, bc i didnt let myself get invested. i thought only "interesting, non basic" " girls" got to live their romances that i always dreamed of.

i got really hooked on shadowhunters through 2019 and 2020, even attended an online con that i almost didnt tell my mom abaout because i was so ashamed and scardd of being seen as...a kid, that i was(am). i didnt want to be immature enough to invest myself on celebrity gossip and tv shows. i was supposed to study, maybe read some ya books, but mostly classics.

throught he pandemic i got hit with some of my worst depressive episodes, suicidal thoughts, body dysmorphia, disordered eating, anxiety and gender dyphoria. and guilt for feeling all of those while being in a very orivileged situation.

so i turned inwards, like i always did, eps when things got difficult. i read and re-read so many books, binge watched tv shows, barely talked to anyone outside of class. i started letting myself like things, but still felt guilty at every turn, which fueled all of my worst instincts

i still feel guilty for liking "stupid" things. for liking tv shows and thirsting over characters and rereading books and following popular creators. i dont wanna lose the label of "smart" that i always thought was my best quality.

i still try no to show i like things, recently ive been hyperfixated on titans, esp. brenton thwaites and dick grayson bc i am a massive bisexual w a massive crush. and i wanna fo something that i always try to do when i like/obsess with an actor: watch as much of their fulms as i can. even if they are bad. even if they had the budged of 5 dollars plus a camera. i dont care. but i feel so fucking stupid for not caring bc it shouldnt be some pretty face that draws me to a film

it should be the photography(which i absolutely love, btw) or the theme, or the director or whatever it is film buffs use to pick movies. this is where the internalized transphobia and misogyny come in at full force: society doesnt let teenage girls get away with liking anything w/o being made fun of. they are called obsessed, crazy, stalkers, vain, stupid, dumb,etc. and i feel like i am. that is the worst.its as if i agree w all those horrivle things ppl say abt girls and liking things, and it makes me dysphoric. it is so weird how this abstract conceot of being seen as a vain stuoid teen girl can make me feel bad abt my identity.

(btw girls who like stuff. yall are the backbone of yhis site, you are smart, creative, funny, and i lovs you with all my heart)

i also realized i dont know how to a man in fandom.how to be a fanboy and not a fangirl. is it any different? do i have to be more closed off? do i have to speak less? was i actually right to shut up abt my interests this whole time? is that part of the masculine in me? if so, why does it hurt so much, when being masc in every other way feels soo good, so freeing?

this is much longer than it was intended or ever needed to be, and yet it covers like, half of my psychological issues lol.

this is me trying to give myself permussion to watch other works w brenton thwaites lol

if you relate in ny way shaoe or form to this, i am sorry, i love you, and you are allowed to like things.

#trans #trans guy #bisexual #bi #trauma #childhood trauma #ableism #autistic #actualllyautistic #actually autistic #fangirl #fanboy #fandom #hbo titans #brenton thwaites #vent

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kubrik-was-a-c-nt · 9 months

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EVIL DEAD RISE IS ON MAX

FUCK YEH LETS DO THIS

Nice fake-out with the drone, I think this is the first time the demon movement was paired with the movement of a real object.

Why the fuck did these guys rent the burning building from Midsommar? Or the cult church in Mandy? Perfectly triangular buildings are super sus now.

Ooooh we got ourselves an OG cabin clock.

Are they just jumping right into it? No build up? Just deadites from the start? I guess I would take anything over stupid family drama.

Uh.... well, that just happened. A scalping 5 minutes in.

I guess this isnt the first time there was a cold open featuring a possession and a bunch of gore. I guess my face blindness made it so I didnt realize that none of the actors I saw were in the trailers.

Okay, we got a rocker chick who I mistook for Mia for a sec who I guess is pregnant? Interesting so far.

How old is this lady that he has several kids? She doesnt look that much older than her older daughter.

"Hey Bridget, Moms on nights so we're watching all the Freddy movies in a row."

"Even the shitty ones."

"There arent any shitty ones."

Excuse me, did we watch the same Dream Master? Dream Child? Freddy's Dead? I love Freddy but he has as many bad movies as he does good.

I like this strange small child with her baby head battering ram.

Oooh, is mom using overtone on her hair? Her hair looks like mine when I used to dye it. When I could afford to dye it. (I got a better paying job so I can start to do that again!!!)

So Beth is forever young mom's sister, interesting.

Staffanie is fucking awesome.

Oooof... Ellie, did you send a text or an email? Two calls and a voice mail are easily forgotten when someone is super busy on the road.

Also, Beth, listen to your sisters voicemail when she leaves one. Call without voicemail is a chat, call with voicemail is important.

Wait, what was this bank built on top of? Or did Mia deposit the Necronomicon into a bank vault to keep it safe?

Are people in movies just not scared of the dark? Of bugs? Of-

JESUS CHRIST JESUS CHRIST

DO NOT TAKE ANYTHING THAT WAS STASHED IN A GRAVE. ITS CURSED AF. I DONT EVEN BELIEVE IN CURSES OR GHOSTS AND EVEN I WOULDNT TOUCH IT. AND NOT EVEN BECAUSE ITS DIRTY AS HELL.

That pizza was still good to eat, just a little smooshed.

"Weird shit like this gets locked away for a reason." Bridget is smart. Bridget should throw that book out the window right now.

The Necronomicon, now featuring a tooth/claw lock with a blood release. Not seen that before.

ONE OF THREE. THREE.

Is this actor on the vinyl trying to imitate Dr Knowby from Evil Dead 2? Like obviously hes not the same guy but the way hes talking.

Oh no, haunted turntable. You see, that's why CDs and MP3s are the superior formats.

NOPE NOPE NO ELEVATOR HORROR FOR ME. PLEASE NO IM STILL WORKING THROUGH MY PHOBIA.

Well great, you just had to take the book and vinyls and now your mom is haunted.

No tree roots available? Ropes and cables will make a good substitute! Cant do an evil dead movie without a little bondage.

Eeew, how many fertilized eggs did you get in your dozen? Where did you get them?

Sorry kids, your mom is a tweaker now.

You think the elevator is going to work in a blackout?

Um... I would be worried if a 'dead bodys' eyes reopened. I know there can be post-mortem spasms but the eyes perfectly reopening and nothing else moving is very strange-

FUCK I SCARED MYSELF. I have my tablet next to me and I saw movement in the screen reflection and I almost jumped out of my skin. It was my hand moving to set down my glass of water.

Hm... this feels like a new ploy for the deaddites. Play dead for a while and then reanimate in the creepiest way possible? I like it.

This is when you jump down the broken stairs and run for your lives. Hell, most elevators have little ladders in the shafts to climb up and down. Fuck it, take the cable and rappel down, just get the fuck away from the possessed tweaker with a glass shard.

Do not kiss a freshly made tattoo. That is very unsanitary.

Wasnt an eye popping out and going into someones mouth in Evil Dead 2? Like, wasnt it Henrietta and Bobby Joe?

El is doing a poor impression of Annie from Hereditary. You need to smash your face against the door way faster than that.

Sorry neighbors, but its every man for themselves now. Not even a gun can save you now.

Yeah Danny, you see cursed shit, you leave it ALONE. I love antiques and mysterious vinyls as much as the next antique enthusiast, but that book was CLEARLY fucked up.

Little girl whose name I forget, grab Staffanie, you're gonna need her.

Oh no, Bridget's face is haunted. We gotta cut it off. Should we do it Mason Verger or Nick Cage style?

It might be easier to convince your daughter to leave the apartment if you move the dead armless boy from view.

Oh Kassie... I cant be too mad. At your age I would have done the same thing. I remember getting scared when I saw my mom walk into a wall and faceplate on the ground. I would have done anything in that moment to believe she was okay (she was, she was super sleepy when she hit the wall and the fall dazed her. She only had a few bruises after)

Bridget, you are not Phoenix Wright! You cannot eat glass and not expect serious internal injuries! And you are not Rohan Kumakura, so put that cheese grater down!

Oh no Bridget... I'm so sorry they couldnt save you before you got impaled. And I'm sorry Kassie that you had to do that to your sister. This being a family and not a group of mostly unrelated friends is making this a lot harder.

Danny with the good ideas now. Where were your good ideas when you climbed into the bank vault?

Chekhov's soldering iron coming in clutch.

IF YOU KNEW THAT THE WORDS WERE CURSED, WHY DIDNT YOU DESTROY THE VINYL THAT HAD THEN RECORDED??? YOU CAN'T DESTROY THE NECRONOMICON BUT YOU CAN DESTROY YOUR RECORDING OF THE WORDS.

The mom is too big to fit inside the vents... is the armless kid in there wiggling around?

IF YOU ARE TYING UP A CORPSE YOU THINK IS GOING TO RISE AGAIN, TIE THEM UP SUPER TIGHT!!! Also Beth, keep one ear open in case the kids need you.

Oh, I guess mom is thin enough to fit in the vents.

Is the mom making a Lilo and Stitch reference? Putting her nail in the vinyl and making the noise come out her mouth?

They are killing a lot of kids in this movie. Barring any deaths from the TV Show, which I abandoned after a while, I don't think they've killed kids before. I'm assuming Bridget is under 18.

I guess this Book works differently than the one in the last movie. 6 kills and no rain of blood yet.

DEAD BY DAWN. DEAD DAWN. DEAD BY DAWN

Kids... what are you doing to your mom? Why are you putting your hands in there?

So this is what the elevators in the Overlook Hotel look like from the inside. And of course this built up to a clear Shining reference.

It didnt rain blood, it flooded blood.

Oooh! Theres a truck with a wood chipper attached to it in the garage! The deaddites can't possess a body that's a pile of mush!

I'm going to see that thing in my nightmares. Holy fuck, what were the designers got this movie thinking when they made this monstrosity? Like, I'm legit scared to look at it right now. I'm trying to not look directly at the screen but I also don't want to miss anything.

Kassie will not become your Saffanie! You don't need one!

You must choose your destiny, the chainsaw, or the boomstick?

You know, I was criticizing Beth for wearing her shoes inside the apartment, but they helped keep the chipper from hurting her.

I can't even begin to imagine all the therapy that Kassie is going to need once this is all done. She will never be able to be around wood chippers again. Or chainsaws. Or elevators. Or look through a peep hole.

That garage MUST smell awful. Theres blood EVERYWHERE. Before I was on birth control I had super heavy periods and the bathroom would reek of blood during my heavy days. That's a tiny drop compared to the ocean of blood in that garage. How did that lady not IMMEDIATELY smell it? (Unless shes like my old boss and lost her sense of smell)

I see... the cold open is a result of these events. The Mandy Midsommar temple cottage wasn't demonic, just the girl who can't smell.

LEE CRONIN WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. YOU TOOK AN ALREADY PANTS SHITTINGLY SCARY REMAKE AND MAKE IT SHIT PANTS HARDER

Good job

#evil dead #evil dead rise #evil dead rise spoilers

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thepenultimateword · 2 years

Text

Billionaire Supervillain x Poor Villain Part 3

Yoooo, it's back! Nobody even asked for it, I just really like these guys 😆

Part one here

Part two here

...

Supervillain rested their arm cavalierly on the back of Villain's chair, exuding a level of malice that Villain usually only ever saw on the job, not while in their civilian alter-ego. But then again, it wasn't every day they met up with their archnemesis for dinner.

Supervillain had decided that if they were going to show their hand it had better be soon and somewhere public. There was much less likelihood of Hero making a fuss when it could involve dozens of innocent people. However, there was also the matter of Supervillain's notoriety as a civilian, meaning anywhere too high-class would draw attention and anything too low-class would be overcrowded. So reservations at a middle-tier steakhouse it was.

Villain sipped awkwardly at their honey limeade as Supervillain glared through their sunglasses at a very eager, very oblivious, Dean Ashley of LimeLight Weekly. Supervillain had called the reporter not even half an hour after fighting Hero, spouting some nonsense about wanting to give him an exclusive interview after he took such good care of Villain at the party. Supervillain also insisted that it must be that very night because they would be flying to Europe in the morning and wouldn't be back for the next month. Not true, but meeting with Dean directly after a fight was absolutely necessary. It was one last assurance that Hero and Dean were one and the same, and sure enough...

Dean's pale hair, usually so carefully fingered back in his internet photos, was dripping water onto his left ear while sticking out like a duck's tail feathers in the back. He'd probably only had time for a change of clothes and a quick slick back with water before running out the door. More than that, his knuckles were battered, and a small bruise was beginning to form on the side of his neck where Supervillain had pressed their thumb, hard, in the midst of a mock strangle. Either Dean was off his game tonight with the secret identity business or he thought they were stupid.

"So was there anything particularly newsworthy you wanted to talk about?" Dean asked, getting his recorder ready.

"Perhaps secrets would be a good starting point," Supervillain said.

"Secrets?"

"Yes." Supervillain took a sip of their own drink, crunching a piece of ice between their teeth before adjusting the glass primly on its coaster. "Such as a silly little gossip reporter daylighting as a hero in his off-hours."

Dean's face went paler than his hair. "Do you mean Hero? I'm not sure what you're saying but--"

"Why don't we save the denials? Villain found you out the day of the gala." Supervillain caressed Villain's cheek with the back of their finger as they spoke their name. "The same day you verified our identities, isn't that right?"

Dean curled both hands around his hair. "Who calls a reporter right after a fight? Really smart, Dean." He sighed deeply. "Alright, I admit it. So what? You want me to report on myself? Tell the truth or forfeit everything I love?"

"That actually sounds way better than what I was thinking," Supervillain grinned, perfect white teeth gleaming predatorily.

"But no," Villain finished. They were on equal footing here, no use risking themselves for Hero's humiliation. Besides, secret identity or not, Villain still felt some inexplicable gratitude toward him. "It's a proposition."

"What sort of proposition?"

Supervillain leaned forward on folded hands. "You stay quiet or say hello to every villain and low-life in this city. You know there's a lot of public information on Dean Ashley, phone number, email, work address, even a home address with a little digging. You think your life is hectic now? You haven't seen a fraction of how miserable I can make you."

Dean held up his hands. "Now, wait a minute. Who said I wanted to expose you?" He looked at Villain. "Did I ever give you a hard time?"

"You tricked me."

"I inferred, I inquired, I confirmed. I honestly felt for you that night, no ulterior motives."

"So you say," Supervillain said.

"The only thing I reported on from that party was [Sv Civilian name]'s hair. Real." He made a quick search on his phone and held it up for them to see. "Look, front page."

"Really?" Villain reached across the table for the phone, a laugh forcing its way up their throat as their eyes scanned back and forth across the article. "'A long speculated mystery...always laughed off during television interviews...thought almost certainly to be fake...' Ah! 'A conversation with [Sv civilian name]'s current partner, [Villain civilian name], at the annual city gala brought this query to a close. They confirmed with confidence the authenticity of our favorite billionaire's hair.'" They did laugh at that. "Look at that shot, baby." Grinning, Villain turned a photo of Supervillain, a couple years younger and black hair pulled into a paintbrush ponytail, towards them. "So handsome."

Supervillain spared a scathing glance.

Villain scrolled further. "Oh, comments!"

Supervillain snatched the phone out of Villain's hand, winding their arm back as if to throw it. They stopped themselves short and with some effort dropped the phone back into Dean's hand.

"Hey! I wanted to read those," Villain complained, pushing their forehead into Supervillain's shoulder.

Supervillain slipped their own phone from the breast pocket of their great, grey fur coat and stared at the screen stubbornly for at least ten seconds before grumbling, "What's the name of the article?"

"Hero Hair," Dean responded. "You know since there's the image stereotype. The people eat it up."

"Stupid." Tap, tap, tap. They passed the phone over into Villain's eager fingers. "And no one has ever made this big deal about my hair. You're just exaggerating for page views."

"Not according to Sweet_Styles1570," Villain said. "She says you hesitate on that question a lot. There's even a theory video."

"You're going to be on this for a while, aren't you?" Supervillain sighed.

Villain only hummed in confirmation, consumed by the number of people spreading content, good or bad, about their lover. Even if it was entertaining, a bit of Villain ached at really awful ones. How did Supervillain stand it? They could only imagine what would have happened if their identity had actually gotten out. Villain would have been fine, no one ever expected much of them anyway, but Supervillain...

Villain clicked the screen off and placed the phone on the table in front of Supervillain. They rested their chin in the crook of Supervillain's arm.

"What?"

Villain shrugged and ran their finger around the perimeter Supervillain's fancy gold watch.

"If you're feeling guilty again then quit it. I already told you it wasn't your fault. I never should have yelled at you in the first place."

A chuckle from Dean caused Villain's eyes to flick toward the reporter.

"See, this is why I didn't want to expose either of you."

"Don't spout nonsense," Supervillain said coldly. "I haven't forgotten about you yet."

Dean shivered. "Wow, I'm never going to get used to how different you are when you're not being a civilian, but no, I'm serious. I'm going to hunt you two down every day. I'm going to put all my energy into thwarting your plans. One day, if peace necessitates it, I may even get rid of you permanently. But I'm not one for tragedies. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I'm staying quiet because the moment your identities go public is the moment this," he waved his finger back and forth between them, "ends. One or both of you are bound to be imprisoned. Or killed. There's enough hurt in this world without me adding to it. Not when we haven't come to that point. It also appears we're at a stalemate so there's that too."

Supervillain snorted and stood up from the table. "Sure, Hero. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Just remember what we talked about today. Oh, and stick around for your food." They threw the payment for three meals on the table in cash. "Dinner's on me."

With one last smirk, they wrapped a warm arm around Villain's waist and guided them to the front of the restaurant where they smoothly hooked the paper bag of pre-boxed food on one finger and swished out the door without a word or even a glance at anyone there.

"Feel cool?" Villain asked, enjoying the pressure of Supervillan's hand on their hip and the strong scent of cinnamon wafting from their coat. They'd been seated next to each other all evening, but there was something different about being this close.

"Hm. A little."

Supervillain could be so dramatic sometimes. They'd planned that little storm out from the start, talked to the kitchen and everything for carry-away on two of the meals. All to make Hero insecure.

"I think he's telling the truth," Villain said.

"I think he's going to stay quiet," Supervillain said in half-agreement.

"You don't think any of that tragedy of stuff could really happen? That Hero could...er...do something final to us?"

Supervillain chuckled darkly. “He allows us to live out of endearment? Well I allow him to live out of mercy. I wonder which bends first.” They kissed Villain’s forehead reassuringly. “No. Hero only wants to sound big. Though perhaps the tone of our little chat warrants a few extra precautions.”

Some tags I had to remove in order for the post to actually show up:

#Dean is the ship captain#he a soft hero#but also scary?#like he ready to kill them if they cross the line#psh#like Supervillain would let that happen

#villain x villain #supervillain x villain #hero x villain #villain #supervillain #fiction #heroes and villains #writing snippet #heroes and villains community

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drowninghell · 2 years

Text

No more lies.

Raph x fem!Reader

Warnings - lil bit of angst, violence, guns

This is my first tmnt fic/Drabble! It’s been so long since I wrote so I’m just feeling my way a little! I promise! I’ll get better as I go!

“ so this is what ya’ have been doing huh’. “

Silence.

“ I’ve been worried sick about ya! you know that right!” His voice growing in volume , the grittiness that she loved, she adored. That fire he posed was now directing all of its fury at her.

Still she stood, staring right back at him with such a vacant gaze. An iced chill had seeped into her bones and she knew he would never look at her the same.

The rain was vicious in it’s assault of the concrete jungle,ruthlessly hailing down , the wind weaponising the droplets. The pitter patter rivalling that of a loud applause. Staring out through tinted glasses, she sighed. A laboured movement. Lowering herself to her knees , a resounding pop and crack sounded, a complaint of her cold limbs. The water seeping into her black clad clothes, slowly moving to be on her stomach. Pulling the hued glasses to sit on the crown of her head as she slid her ammunition into the gun. A long weapon made for carrying distances. Carefully, she looked through the eye piece.

“Those foot soliders down by the docs? The runners for Baxter stockman? You! All you was it!?“ he was growing frustrated, the turtle wrapped in red was frustrated as he paced back and forth before her, still it rained on. He was looking at her and it was like looking at a stranger.

“ Raph! “ his fearless leader , Leo called , yet all he could see and hear was the woman he loved standing before him.

“ do you know what they are gonna’ do when they get their hands on you huh’”

Still she bit her tongue, she got it. She deserved it. She had crossed a line and that was that.

Slowly , y/n set up her mark, watching carefully , on the other end of her sight, she saw him. She saw Raph and his beloved brothers. Watched as they fought shredder and were loosing. They where loosing so badly. The angelic baby of the group was getting it the worst. They where battered and bruised and she could do something about it. She had trained. She had gotten good, smart. She wasn’t helpless anymore, she would refuse to be again. Exhaling the warm breath between her lips her finger teetered on the trigger. If she could get him , in this one timed shot, she could make her escape before her darling boyfriend even knew she was here.

“ do ya’ now how stupid! Wreck less! You have been, what If we where foot solider—“

“ I can handle myself, Raphael.” There was a bite in her tone. It wasn’t uncommon but that, paired with the use of his full name had him snapping from his tangent. the corner of her eye she could see the awkward shifty ness of her significant other’s brothers. She couldn’t blame them, not really.

“ no you can’t! Tonight just proved it! Did you see how easy we found ya! “ Still he paced on infront of her! Imposing into her personal space before stopping to stare straight back into her eyes. She stared back, as unrelenting as he was. Somewhere along the argument , his brothers had slinked away.

“ listen Raph! I’m not some helpless , useless person anymore alright! Im Not someone who can be pushed around anymore! I can do this! I have been doing this! “ slowly that ice was thawing, the adrenaline that had been pulsing through her slowly simmering out. Her anger returning. “ you have no right to be angry at me! It’s hypocritical! “

A break in the rain gave for an excellent shot, and with a timed pull , her bullet flew through the air, hitting its mark. The soft fleshy area behind the knee. A gap in his armour and shredder was down on one knee. A guttural groan leaving his lips. Quickly she was reloading, the Japanese warrior was staring in her general direction ,straightening himself. Fear bubbled up in the sniper’s throat , she stilled and shot again, this time the bulled impacted into the pane of metal between the shredder’s eyes. The tough metal acting as an unrelenting barrier. Fuck. She was going to kill him. She could have killed him. The thought had her hands trembling as she slowly, pushed herself up onto her knees. Using the heavy rain as cover as she slid her mask back up around her delicate features. She made a break for it.

Lots of time watching her boyfriend’s elegant movement had her well prepared, her weeks and weeks of preparation had lead to this moment. She saved them! She game them enough time to get away.

“ is this what it’s about?! Wanting to be some sort of vigilante?—“

Again, she cut him off. “ I need to be able to help too! I can not sit idly by while you are constantly putting yourself in danger! I’ve lost too much to the foot clan to be a foot note anymore! She was shouting now, giving him a taste of his own medicine, encroaching into his space. She had not forgot how they met, how he saved her after the loss of her family. How weak and fragile she was back then.

He could see where she was coming from, her confrontational tone had him baring his teeth and sighing, two hot heads did not make for a good argument and she was just as passionate as he was, that’s why he loved her. Amber-green eyes looked her head to toe . The bullet proof vest, the knee and arm braces. The preparation, the weeks she’s been doing this!

“ why didn’t you come to me y/n! “ he straightened, towering over her.

“ because I knew this is how you’d act! Alright?! I’m not some glass doll you have to protect! “ she was seething, the anger was at a boiling point between them, they where mere inches apart, her neck craned back to look at him.

His massive hands came to cup her face slightly abrasivly , holding both sides. Bringing his head to hers.

“ listen! You could have died! They could already be sending men out for ya’ and I wouldn’t have even known it’s you they are after! Because you kept this from me! You’ve been lying to me!” Her hand came up to wrap around his thumb as she averted her eyes. Raph made her look back at him. The sincerity in those beautiful amber green eyes, tears pinpricked her own. Her heart hurt. It hurt to see him hurt.

When he seen those brilliant eyes of hers well up , he kissed her. Strong and sure. She returned the favour. The turtle melted into her touch. That anger morphed itself into a hungry passion. They vented their frustrations on each others lips, leaning down he picked her up, never once breaking the contact. Swinging them around until his back was against the wall, slowly, they slid down and she was in his lap. Her arms thrown haphazardly around his neck . Large hands roamed from her waist to her thighs. Around the two, it rained and they where both saturated but all that mattered was that she had him and he had her. She was safe and so was he.

When y/n come up for air with a shaky breath, she was met with Raphael’s forehead

Resting against her own. For a few minutes, they where silently panting, regaining their composure.

“ no more lying. If ya wanna do something, you tell me an’ I’ll be there every step “he started, he was absolute, mis mouth set into a tense line, she nodded. Without hesitation.

“ no more lies”.

#bayverse raph #bayverse turtles #tmnt idw #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt angst #tmnt bayverse #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #tmnt raph x reader

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diavolosthots · 3 years

Note

YAYAY THERE OPEN!!! Okay so can I ask for Mammon angst with the brothers reactions to Mammon breaking from their comments

I looked through all 14 beadcanon masterlists because I couldve sworn I already did this. Turns out I only ever did this in fics.

Warning: angst? Maybe? Depends on your definition of angst.

THE BROTHERS reacting to Mammon breaking from their comments

Lucifer:

Never would he have thought that Mammon would actually break. Sure, Mammon would give him the usual whine spiel of “I didn’t do it!” “Lucifer, please!” while screams echoed off of his walls, but never had Mammon actually… broken. Granted, Lucifer is more of a physical “I’ll show you!” type rather than a verbal fighter, and Mammon would usually take those like a champ. But him breaking from words? It’s unusual, to say the least. Of course he’d tell the rest of his brothers to stop immediately while he goes and takes care of Mammon. He is his favorite, after all. No direct verbal apology will come from him, but he will sit there and listen and then do a few of Mammon’s favorite things. That’s his way of apologizing.

Mammon:

Usually he’d suck it up and just take it, maybe pout in his room later, but when he has someone to impress? Aka MC? How is he supposed to keep cool? The words always got to him and damn, he KNOWS he’s not the brightest star in the sky, okay?! Not everyone can be as smart as Satan, c’mon! But at the same time… it’s so, so exhausting and hurtful to constantly hear it. Yes, he knows there’s things he needs to fix, but habits are so hard to break. Having everyone around him yell instead of helping him isn’t doing any good, either. Of course he would break… At this point, it was just a matter of time.

Leviathan:

He doesn’t hate Mammon, far from it actually, but he wouldn’t consider him his favorite brother, either. Seeing Mammon break would, however, bring a lot of guilt to light and he suddenly finds himself sad along with the 2nd eldest. Yes, he knows that he doesn’t have a right to feel sad over this, but it’s hard because it just reinstates that he truly is nothing more than useless and stupid. Maybe even more stupid than Mammon. He wouldn’t outright go to Mammon to apologize, either, and only when he has had enough of his self-wallowing pitiness would he go and seek out his second oldest brother, mumbling an apology and inviting Mammon to hang with him. Maybe, just maybe, he would even let Mammon win at a few games.

Satan:

His first reaction to Mammon breaking is… laughter. As a matter of fact, he and Belphie would most likely be the ones who add tears to the already streaming waterfall. It’s only hours later when he realizes that Mammon was truly, really breaking when he makes an effort to reconcile. Then the guilt hits him like a ton of bricks and honestly… if it weren’t for Mammon, he wouldn’t have half the thirst for knowledge he has today. Satan always told himself that being smart, being intelligent, was a necessity, but truthfully he just feared being played, especially being played by someone like Mammon. The second eldest does have issues that need to be fixed, no doubt about that, but they shouldn’t have taken it this far. He does go and apologize, even going as far as to planning a brotherly make-up dinner where Mammon gets to choose, but he knows Mammon would take advantage if he was shown too much kindness, so that’s where it stops.

Asmodeus:

Truthfully, he tries to steer away from Mammon as much as possible, unless it benefits him in some way, shape, or form. Parties? Modeling? Mammon is the best one to go to for that, but actual, deep conversations that make one pour their heart out? Not really. Still, he does feel extremely bad that it has come to this point. They’re brothers, after all, and the last thing he wants is for Mammon to do something truly dumb. He does give a verbal apology and he even pampers Mammon for a die, offering an open ear and his shoulder, if he so wishes to use it.

Beelzebub:

He’s one of the lesser culprits. Sure he has said his fair share of things, but more often than not, besides Lucifer, Mammon usually would come to him if anything was up. Crazy, right? To now be part of this endless batter, makes Beel quite sad. After all, he’s the one who would like for all of his brothers to get along and for them to be a real family. He wishes they were closer, although they’re already extremely close. Less of the fights… less of the accusations… more love. So he also verbally apologizes to Mammon and offers to listen. Hell, he even shares his favorite snacks with the guy, but he’s also the one giving Mammon a reality check. Some things he does deserve and as long as everyone’s on the same page and actively working toward a better future, Beel doesn’t see any problems

Belphegor:

Like mentioned before, him and Satan are most likely to continue the mocking and teasing long after the guy breaks down. In all honesty, Belphie feels little to no remorse at first and, if anything, thinks Mammon has no damn spine to be reacting that way. He’s also most likely to be the one that says “if Mammon wasn’t so stupid to begin with….” and it’s not until Beel gives him a scolding that he realizes what he said is unacceptable. He doesn’t even hate Mammon. He hates Mammon’s constant lying and idiocy. Much like Lucifer, he can’t bring himself to verbalize this apology, though, and he instead just tries to forget it while also doing small acts of kindness for the demon. By small he means he transferred some money onto Goldie. You’re welcome.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst

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raggaraddy · 3 years

Text

Sugar Daddy turned sour

Request: Hi!!!! read all of ur works its all amazing cant believe ur new.. can i request for a yan sugar daddy taehyung x reader x yan sugar daddy jungkook. they found out that that y/n have 2 sugar daddies and they lost their sanity(as if they even have that)...Thank u and YOU GOOD,KEEP GOING💜💞💞💞💞😘😁

A/N: I don't know how to post a reply to a personal message yet because I am new and Tumblr deficient 😅 But I hope you like the scenario ^-^ thanks for the request 💜

Here for Part 2

Summary: Juggling two guys and getting everything you want from them has always been easy for you, and Taehyung and Jungkook are no exception. Or so you thought.

Trigger warnings: Mentions of non-con, assault, cheating, violence.

Yandere! Taehyung

Yandere! Jungkook

Sunday. Taehyungs day.

You open your webcam, checking your eyeliner quickly in the startup view as you wait for the Tae to pick up on the other side. He pops up quickly a beaming smile filling his face.

“Y/n! Baby, I’ve missed you.” He’s radiant. As happy and as bubbly he always is.

You go along listening to him excitedly run through his past few days, telling you everything in excruciating detail as he jumps from one half-finished thought to another. He may be an adult but he certainly has a young soul. The whole while you feign attention, your fingers continually fidgeting with the diamond necklace or the matching bracelet he had sent you a few weeks back.

“How was your weekend?” He finally gets around to asking.

“Not so good. I always have to work so much," You complain, batting your eyes at the camera.

“You could always quit and come live with me.” He jokes-but not really. It’s a topic he has raised 3 times already. And you have the same answer ready as always.

“Daddy, you know I’m a strong and independent woman. I could never let someone else pay for me.” You pout, running your tongue over your lower lip while pushing your chest up a little to draw attention. “It’s just my rent is so expensive. I feel like I work just to pay the bills.”

In truth, your rent is already being covered by someone else. But he doesn’t need to know that.

While you continue to run through the fabricated details of your weekend, Taehyung is distracted, looking down at his phone. You know what's happening. It’s like a game. And you’re winning. Your banking app sends a notification, letting you know that K. Taehyung has just sent you a payment.

You open it up. Yep. That's rent for the month. Or more, money for that new TV you wanted.

“Oh! Daddy, noo.” You whine down the camera. “You can’t. I am okay. Really. Please don’t spend your money on me.” You frown if only to stop the smile that is fighting to fill your face.

“I want to baby. I have the money, and I just want you to be happy. Don’t stress about bills okay. I’m here.”

Sometimes, it’s almost too easy.

“Okay Daddy, if you insist.”

Tuesday. Jungkooks day.

With Jungkook it’s a much more straightforward transaction. He has said he wants to pay for you and he hates the back and forth pretences. He just wants you to say thank you, smile pretty, and give him all your attention.

“Do you need anything more for the week?” He asks through the camera.

“No Daddy, you take such good care of me. Thank you.” You smile.

“You still have the weekend of the 14th off?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. Off-screen you quickly scan through your calendar.

14th, 15th and 16th: Jk weekend.

Hmm, that came up quicker than you expected. You try to keep your booty calls with them as far apart as possible.

“Of course, I’m so excited! I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You say, it been less than 100% truthful.

“Months.” He corrects with a surreptitious undertone.

“Where are we staying this time?”

You always insist to stay in hotels. Because ‘your apartment feels too busy and mundane, and you want the time you spend with him to be magical and undistracted’. Honestly, you just don’t want him, either of them, in your personal space. You purposefully chose boys who live a few hours away. It’s hard enough to keep them separated in your everyday life with them being far away. It could only get messy for them to know where you live and how to reach you in person.

You’ve certainly gotten smart at this. Arranging the two men into different days of the week, scheduling them into your calendar to keep them apart and unaware of the other. Both had specifically said very early on that they do not want to share you with anyone else. And that you were all theirs. And while both of them seemed to trust you, you knew their reactions would be unpleasant, to say the least, if they found out about the other.

Sugar Daddies can be so possessive.

But while both these men are very handsome, money is better and more reliable than boys. And if they are stupid enough to spend it all on you, why should you care.

The week passes quickly and it’s the 14th. Once more you find yourself in the lobby of a 5-star hotel. Jungkook arrived in town early and sent you a message with the room number.

Time to actually work for your money.

You knock on the door only to find it slightly open. Entering there is a trail of rose petals lining the floor leading into the suite. All the lights are dimmed with a warmth of candlelight filling the room. This is so typically Jungkook. Pulling out all the stops to try to impress.

Dropping your bag at the entrance, you close the door behind you and explore inwards.

“Daddy?” You call out in a singsong voice. Your heels clack on the tiled floor as you round the corner into the living room. Jungkook is sitting on the lounge, one leg crossed over the other, arms rested up over the back. You smile at seeing him. You always seem to forget just how stunning he is in person.

“Which one of us are you referring to?” A deep voice startles you from behind. You jolt, spinning to see Taehyung standing behind you leaning against the wall.

Holy fuck.

Your mind starts to jumble through what is happening. Thinking about what it was that might have given you away. Evaluating how much they may know. And planning your next move.

Damn it. You doubt you’ll be able to smooth talk your way out of this with Jungkook. He’s too direct and absolute. So you’ll just have to accept that that relationship is over. However, you might be able to salvage this situation with Taehyung if you play your cards right. Being defensive should do the trick.

“What is this?” You snap, keeping focused on Taehyung. “This is such a violation of my privacy! You keep smothering me Taehyung! See this is why I tried to find someone else to hang out with.” You stomp your foot. He would always wrap around your finger so quickly with the little girl act.

“Ha!” He blurts out a short laugh in contradiction to how you expected him to react. “Wow. No, go on. I want to see where this is going.”

“Do you think we only just found out about each other?” Jungkook pipes up, coming from the couch.

You sigh. You had almost saved enough for a holiday to the Maldives too. But they seem to know too much. Fine. You can burn both relationships. They were starting to get too clingy anyway. “Whatever.” You roll your eyes. You got all you could from them. Time to move on to the next.

As you shrug them off, Taehyung steps into the path of the front door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Both he and Jungkook start to close in tighter. There is a cold tone to his words. Something far too close to a threat for your comfort. Even in heels, both men naturally stand taller than you which usually wouldn’t bother you. But with an unsteadiness to your footing and a very short dress on, in a dark room with two men you have used and spurned, you are feeling even more vulnerable than you feel you should.

“Move.” You order.

A smirk on his lips, Taehyung lifts his hand up and backhands you, knocking you back a few stumbled steps. You gasp, your hand clinging to your cheek, eyes wide in shock. He starts forward, Jungkook intervening, standing between the two of you.

You can not believe he just hit you! He has never done anything like that before.

“No, don’t do that.” He stops Taehyung as he starts to swing again. Shaking all over, you’re relieved that one of them is seeing sense. You take the outstretched hand of Jungkook, lip trembling from the burn on your cheek. He draws you closer and you wrap into him for protection. In the same motion, his free hand swings down punching you in the stomach, doubling you over, dropping you to the floor. “If you hit her head, she might get spaced out. I want her to feel this.”

His words send a chill down your spine. This can not be happening.

“Are you crazy!” You gape, trying to speak while gulping down air. Your head is dizzy, your lungs burning. Kicking off your heels for better movement, you climb back up to your feet not wanting to engage either man. Eyes focused you look past Taehyung to the door, storming forward. “I’m leaving. We’ll forget all of this, okay.” You bargain through short, panicked breath.

Taehyungs large hand slams you into the wall, pressing his palm against your shoulder. He follows Jungkooks lead, pounding his fist into your gut. And then again. And again. His hold removes letting you free and you plummet to the ground, crying within broken huffs while cradling your battered torso.

“You’re right. That is better.” He laughs at Jungkook.

“Stop!” You beg, unable to raise your voice above a soft yelp.

“What's wrong baby? You wanted two men. Now you have them.” Taehyungs bright smile returns to his face. This time with an entirely different meaning than it had ever had until it shifts into a straight, harsh look that you have never seen from him. “Didn't you always say you wished there was some way you could repay me?”

“You said that to me too.” Jungkook joins his side, both hovering above you, trapping you between them, the wall, and the floor.

Leaning down Jungkooks hand follows you as you squirm away from him. His fingers wrapped around your throat and lift you up, keeping you against the wall. He takes advantage of you being stuck, leaning into you pressing his lips to yours as you resist as much as you can.

“Baby, you’re going to pay us back for every dollar we spent on you.” He snarls.

Taehyung turns your face to him, also forcing a kiss on you. “Don’t worry, Y/n, you’ll see that we know how to share.”

Part 2

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere taehyung #sugadaddy #cheating #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts #yandere #yandere bangtan #taekook #bts reactions #bangtan reactions #jungkook #taehyung

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

A silent plea

Yandere!Kujou Sara x gn!reader

Wordcount:1366

CW:Yandere themes, death and torture mention

Kujou Sara knows her place. It’s always beneath and at Raiden Shogun’s beck and call. Some may think it's humiliating, to dedicate so much time and energy for the tyrant, yet Sara disagrees - Baal may be a cruel goddess, but she is a goddess nonetheless, meant to be praised and obeyed and Sara is nothing but a devoted worshipper, willing to commit any atrocity if it will please her archon.

She doesn't indulge in it, preferring to endure the cruelty of her own hands and telling herself that it is needed for Baal's eternity. All who resist and defy have deserved their fates, no matter how grim and bitter they are. How many rebels did she strike herself? Electro archon’s heart holds no mercy nor pity for her enemies, so Sara’s shouldn’t either. And it did, for a time, allowing Kujou Sara to fight and torture and interrogate, all in the name of her Goddess, until she met you.

It happened on the battlefield. Sara was aiming at someone, all her attention consumed by the distant figure and the tension of the bow in her hands as she heard a rustle of the leaves and then sensed a blade pressing down her jugular.

“Order your men to retreat”, you demanded, adding a bit more pressure. She couldn’t see it but felt a small trail of blood trickling down her neck and staining the clothes. It was an awful and dangerous situation to be in and for the first time in months she experienced fear so clearly and brightly.

“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, she kicked you, focusing the electro energy around her body. It was enough to give her time and protect Sara from your weapon, leaving just a shallow cut on her neck.

You gasped then, from pain and shock, eyes wide as you grasped the injured hand, and dropped the weapon. And then it was Sara’s turn to get surprised - you didn’t flee and she couldn’t see your vision. Were you that stupid or desperate? Did you really think that you could defeat her in a fair fight?

Sara took a stance, preparing for a quick victory, which it wasn’t. She had to claw it out, deflecting your blows and kicks - you were like a wild animal back then, feral and forceful, seemingly just a step away from lunging at Sara and biting a chunk of her flesh out. But unlike the beast, you were smart and tricky too, throwing small metal trinkets to redirect her lightning, leaping at her only when you were sure she wouldn't attack. If it wasn’t for her approaching men who knows for how long you would drag out this battle, using lowly tricks and stunts to make up for your obvious disadvantage.

You fled then, pulling out a smoke bomb to create a distraction, and something inside her changed. At first Sara thought it was respect, keeping her up at night and making her return to the place of your “fight”, replaying your moves in her memory again and again. Respect for your resourcefulness and loyalty to your cause, despite the opposite allegiance.

Nevertheless, the dreams, wet and messy and too dishonourable to be said out loud, made her change her perspective - she didn’t respect you, no, she wanted to be at your mercy again, to feel herself helpless and powerless as your figure looms over her vulnerable form.

Those were sick perverted fantasies, not to mention traitorous too. As the loyal servant of Raiden Shogun she couldn’t allow herself to fall victim to the animal urges and sinful lust. Who knows, what if her arrow falters and blade dulls because of the same craving and shameful desire? How can she allow herself to live further after such failure?

That’s why her efforts in capturing and neutralizing rebel camps doubled, despite the slowly rising wave of hesitation inside her.

The early morning greets Kujou Sara with the cold breeze of grey waves and the news she has both dreaded and anticipated. Her men finally located and captured the small insurgent group, hiding among the lush forests of Kannazuka, roughly dragging the rebels back to the Kujou encampment.

“Bring them here”, Sara says to one of the troops after she exits her apartment, her battle regalia already on. The soldier bows and quickly hurries to the furthermost nondescript building - a makeshift cell for all prisoners before they’re sent to the capital.

Sara trails his figure, feeling how her own heart thumps, head aching from the sudden tension and anxiety and she doesn’t know whether she wants to see your face or not. “A moment of truth”, she whispers to herself as one painfully long second is replaced by the other.

Turns out, you are in that group too, as the mentioned soldier leads you out with the other prisoners, your hands tightly cuffed by a long chain. Kujou squints as she looks over all of you, your frame being her main focus. You are tired and dirty, she notes, but also defiant and full of fight, just like that fateful day.

Sara orders her men to lead you to the interrogation room, and put the rest in the cells, she accompanies the soldier, eyeing your form as he tugs on your chains - you don't want to go, it's obvious, but in the end fatigue and simple weakness win and your legs buckle.

You have new bruises, she notes, purple-bluish they stand out in a stark angry contrast against your skin. Maybe her men got handsy, maybe they weren’t careful with transporting you enough - no matter the reason she needs to punish them.

“Out”, Sara says, once you’re tied and secured in one place, defiant eyes burning right through her. The soldier quickly bows before exiting the room and leaving Sara with you alone, and that’s when she feels it again - the wave of longing and carnal desire so strong that she yearns to touch your body no matter how dirty and battered it is.

“Why am I here?”, you ask, voice low and scratchy after days of complete silence, snatching Sara from her thoughts, and by the archons the sound of your voice is enough to awaken something in her, pink dusting her cheeks.

"You don't have a vision", she says instead of answering you, feeling how her heart speeds up from those words alone:"but you still defied Raiden Shogun's eternity and you will be punished accordingly"

A crooked smile makes it to your face, resignation mixing with pure hatred boiling in your eyes. Sara wants to shiver and turn away, hide from your gaze, yet she endures it, not a single muscle betraying her.

"You will be tortured regardless of you knowing anything about resistance plans", you don’t stop smiling, yet your expression grows even more tense. Like a deadman, Sara thinks to herself - she had seen it of course, the face, the resignation, and she doesn’t like it. The mere idea of you suffering and screaming under someone else's hands enough to make her taste a sour bile on her tongue.

"Then why are you telling me all of this?", you raise one brow.

"There’s a way to avoid that. Aid me in my service to Raiden Shogun and your crimes will be forgiven". Sara leans closer to you, her golden eyes transfixed on your face. "Please agree", she wants to say: "It's for your own good".

“I don’t comply with the requests of traitors”, you spit back at her and she jerks away, remembering your bestial nature. If only you were more obedient Sara would worship you like a second deity, her love and devotion to you surpassed only by the reverence she holds towards Baal. She would dress you in silks and kiss every spot on your body, ripping out the most pleasurable and desperate moans out of your lips. She would fall on the knees before you, patiently awaiting your command.

But she can’t - deep down you’re an animal, feral and ungrateful and rabid beasts deserve nothing but death.

“I will come back tomorrow and ask you again. I suggest you take back your words”.

Kujou Sara knows her place. She wishes you knew yours.

#yandere genshin x reader #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere Kujou Sara #Yandere Kujou Sara x reader #Yandere genshin #yandere x reader #Yandere genshin impact #Yandere #Female yandere #Yandere x reader

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soldrawss · 3 years

Note

Sol i need headcanons for the brothers, please im begging you

BRUH I GOT YOU

I’m currently working on some little fics for them BUT I CAN GIVE YOU SOME DETAILS BECAUSE I’M DYING TO SHARE

(Warning, gets a little dark towards the middle, but overall fine. Sorry for the long read. I went for a DEEP dive on the Age Gap Au)

Ace was put into foster care 4 hours after his birth. His father died before he was born and his mother died during childbirth. Ace had nothing to his name but physical traits of the dead (Like his father's sharp eyes and his mother’s freckles) He grew up with a need to prove himself and to gain something that truly belonged to him all on his own.

Sabo was placed in foster care when he was 5 because of an altercation with his abusive and possesive parents, involving him having broken ribs and running away.

Ace and Sabo met in a halfway home for troubled youths when they were 6. (They both had issues with authority and past placements in foster homes, so they quickly bonded over that, and decided to stick together ever since)

Their bond was so strong that ‘honorary’ brothers didn’t really fit them. They were brothers. And they stuck together and stood up for one another like it was them against the world (which sometimes it was)

They would often run away from the halfway home they were at, trying to earn a living on their own on the streets, and often commit petty thefts in order to survive.

These little runaway trips wouldn’t last long though, because they were always caught by Officer Garp, a police officer that happened to have a knack for catching little runaways.

However tough Garp acted though, he had an incredibly big soft spot for these two little brats that were only trying to make their lives better. These two kids, barely 8 years old, who had so much hatred for the world because of adults in their lives that failed them. Adults that hurt them, giving them scars and bruises on their hearts just as easily as the scars and bruises on the little frames.

After a particular runaway incident, Ace breaks down and confesses about all the horrible placements he and Sabo had been in before. How social services always judge Ace’s sharp eyes and label in a problem child, how Sabo’s quick wit always get him in trouble with the adults, how they both have scars and bruises from past foster homes they were placed in, and that's why Ace and Sabo runaway. They’re tired of getting placed in bad homes. They’re tired of having adults try to separate them. Ace is all Sabo has and vice versa because that's the only person in the whole world who they trust to not hurt them. And Garp thinks that’s the last fucking straw.

Garp, much to Ace and Sabo’s but nobody else’s surprise, adopts both the boys, and takes them into his own home. Because dammit, if they’re just gonna runaway, they might as well stay with someone who will at least love them enough to always look for them and bring them back to a good home when they do.

And it’s weird at first, because Garp is the rough and loud and nosey officer that used to grab them by the scruffs of their shirts and drag them back to that awful halfway home kicking and screaming. But then it gets better. Because he still yells at them, but it’s with a tempered and fiercely protective love it when he does. He still grabs them, but it’s just to pull them into a rough bear hug that they fervently pretend they don’t like. And every dinner is spent with tears of laughter in their eyes and cheeks warm with delight at the stories he tells them. (They call him old man with affection and he’s their father figure even though they treat him like their grandpa.)

Sabo joins his school’s baseball team! Which is so freaking cool! He’s a really strong batter, can weild a bat like it’s an extension of his own arm, and Ace and Garp are always the loudest cheers on the bleachers every home run hit Sabo makes.

Garp makes Ace take up boxing, because the kid’s got a lot of pent-up rage and aggression, and he figures it’s a good constructive sort of therapy for the rowdy brat.

The two still get up to mischief every now and again, though. Nothing illegal, but Garp is still having to wrangle up his two little idiots before they do something stupid. (They get into a lot of fights with local gangs because they have smart mouths and are still a little reckless)

Garp has a biological son that Ace and Sabo never met due to Garp’s and Dragon’s strained relationship. Garp had always bad-mouthed him whenever his son was brought up, but it was always with words that had no heat behind them, and Sabo and Ace could tell there was a sadness behind his eyes whenever he looked at the picture of his son in his wallet.

The boys were 10 when they got the news of Dragon’s death a week after it happened. Garp had gotten the phone call when he and the boys were watching some late-night trash tv on the weekend, and he had all but strangled the phone in a grip that turned his knuckles white. He didn’t say what had killed his son, (he never did), but he had told the boys he needed to take care of something, told them to pack up some of their things, dropped them off at his friend Newgate’s house, and got the quickest flight out that night.

He came back 3 days later, and when he did, he had a tiny little baby with him.

Ace and Sabo were no strangers to babies. There was always some snot-nosed kid that would get dropped off at the halfway home (and then adopted that week, because everybody loved babies), and they were pretty sure this baby wasn’t gonna be any different. Because babies were loud and gross and never stopped crying, and Ace and Sabo were prepared for the absolute worse.

But then they stood over the baby’s crib to get a good look at him, and the baby looked back.

And smiled the biggest and happiest smile Ace and Sabo had ever seen.

And Garp had said “His name is Luffy,” and Ace and Sabo had been hooked around his little finger ever since.

Luffy was barely 6 months old, and was a bundle of chubby cheeks and contagious giggles. With big brown chocolate colored eyes that melted all the sharp corners and edges of Ace’s and Sabo’s hearts.

Because Sabo and Ace were the same age, and neither one of them felt like the older or younger brother. They were equals in every way. But it was different with Luffy. Because Luffy was tiny, and soft and could barely wrap all 5 of his little fingers around one of theirs, and it hit Sabo and Ace like a bullet train because oh.

Oh this is what it was like to be an older brother. This was what it was like to have a little brother. And Sabo and Ace have always looked out for each other, of course. But Luffy was something they had to protect fully and with their entire being. His smile, his laughter, his heart. All of it. Sabo and Ace knew all the horrible things in the world, knew all the hatred and fear and heartbreak the world could throw at you and it was like a silent promise to each other they never verbalized, that Luffy should and would never have to go through the things they went through. He would never feel unloved. He would never feel unwanted. He would never feel like he had to prove his worth or reason for existing. (He was worth more than any price anyone could give anyway)

Sabo and Ace stopped getting into trouble. They got good grades, excelled in their respective clubs, and didn’t give Garp any reason to chase them down in his old cop car and bring them home. (They were always at home anyway, giving Luffy piggyback rides and teaching him how to ride a bike and do one-handed handstands and cartwheels, and basking in the warmth that was Luffy’s endless love) And they lived in peace like that for 5 years.

Then the fire happened.

Garp was a good police officer and an even better Deputy Chief, and for almost 40 years, he served on the Foosha County Police Department. He had put away a lot of bad guys and saved a lot of people in the process and was an honored and highly respected man. However, this also made him a big target and earned him quite a few enemies. He was 3 weeks away from retirement and spending most of those weeks staying at home, playing with Luffy, and ingnoring the last of his paperwork left on his office desk.

When the fire broke out, Ace and Sabo had just turned the corner from the bus stop on their way home from school. They had seen the smoke, but didn’t know where it was coming from till they saw the towering blaze of fire that used to be their 2 story home and the group of neighbors surrounding the outside.

They managed to push their way to the front, hands shaking and eyes wide and absolutely breathless, because that was their house! That was their house that was one fire and where was gramps?! Where was Luffy?!

The only thing Ace heard Sabo whisper among the roar of the fire and the loud murmur of people around them was “Do you hear that? That... crying?” Before Sabo surged forward.

Ace didn’t have time to reach out and stop him, and by the time he could, Sabo had already disappeared into the open front door, which was covered in flames. He had screamed out, tried to race in and follow his brother into the flames, but the neighbors around him were quicker than he was and pulled him back.

Edward Newgate, one of their neighbors and close personal friend of Garp’s was in the crowd, and he was holding Ace to his chest with an arm like an iron bar, as he was on the phone with the local fire department. (Newgate was also the Foosha County fire chief, and was shouting at his lieutenants to “get your asses out here now!’) But Ace didn’t hear a word he was saying. All he could do was struggle to get out of the older man’s grip, reach out for his brother and best friend, and scream his lungs out.

What felt like hours went by, and Ace felt like his heart was shattering into a million piece, the glass shards falling around him, as he sobbed into Newgate's chest, thinking he had lost everything. His home. His family. His only purpose and reason for living.

And then some of the neighbors were shouting again, only this time in surprised alarm and Ace looked up with hazy eyes blurred by tears, to see something was coming out of the front door.

And it could only be Sabo. Ace knew it was him before he could even register it, and bolted out of Newgate's grips that had slacked at the surprise and towards his brother.

Ace met Sabo only a few feet from the door, Sabo collapsing into his arms, and Ace had to pull him the extra few feet away because the flames were still too much to bear even at that distance.

And Sabo’s skin was hot and red and covered in smoke and ash alike. There was a giant welting red burn against the side of Sabo’s face that looked like it would leave a scar forever, but Ace was having a hard time focusing on it because he was too bust focusing on the bundle of blankets that Sabo was desperately trying to push into Ace’s arms.

And Ace was already crying before, but he began crying even harder when he removed the fold of blankets to reveal a muffled Luffy, covered in ash but unharmed, crying his eyes out.

Sabo had a coughing fit that rocked his whole body, and burns that looked like they'd hurt forever, but he was smiling when Ace broke into a sob, clutching both Sabo and Luffy into his chest.

The firefighters and paramedics came a few minutes later, and they had to physically pull Sabo and Luffy from Ace’s arms to check and treat them. Luffy only ended up with a few mild burns and cuts on his arms and legs and some burning of his throat from inhaling so much smoke, but Sabo had to be taken to the hospital immediately for his burns, especially for the one on his face. Ace pleaded to let them all ride in the same ambulence on the way to the hosipital, and held on to Sabo’s shirt sleeve with a grip that would take the end of the world and then some for him to let go.

Sabo had to get some surgery and treatment to save his left eye, but he was all in all ok, and Ace and Luffy were allowed to visit his hospital room for as long as they needed.

When Ace finally confronted Sabo on why he had ran into the house in the first place, it was on the first night of their hospital stay. Sabo had a giant white gauze wrapping half of his head, and he looked at Ace with tired blue eyes that looked a little fuzy, still a little drugged from all the medication he was on to ease the pain.

And Ace felt bad about it, he really did, because Sabo didn’t derserve to be grilled on the matter. Not after he had sacrificed himself and saved Luffy. Their little brother. Their little brother who they wouldn’t even have anymore if it weren’t for Sabo.

But Ace had to know. He was so mad and heartbroken and scared out of his mind when Sabo had rushed in without word or warning. Because they had lost Garp. They had almost lost Luffy. And Ace could have almost lost Sabo too.

But Luffy was tucked underneath Sabo’s arm on the hospital bed, and Sabo just smiled at Ace with a patience that only Ace and Luffy could pull out of him, and patted the other side for Ace to join them. Ace climbed onto the bed beside him, and even with the two 15-year-olds and one little 5 year old, the bed didn’t feel too small at all.

Sabo explained that he could hear crying from the door and he just moved. Knowing it was Luffy before his mind could really think about the implications behind that. He confessed how the flames hurt at first. Hurt so bad, and it was so hot, and everything, from the floor to the ceiling, was on fire and he could barely see anything through the smoke. But he could hear Luffy’s little rough and horse scream, coming from one of the back rooms that used to be Garp's office, and suddenly all Sabo could afford to think about was Luffy’s crying.

Sabo would tell a watered-down version of this story to the cops in the morning, because they were Garp's friend and companions, and they only really needed the broad details for their report anyway.

He’ll tell a heroic version of this story, lacking any horrific graphics, to an older Luffy whenever the eternally curious kid wonders and asks about it.

But he only ever told the whole story right then on that night, one arm tight around his baby brother in a toothed and protective love, while the other one gripped his best friend's hands with shaking and bandaged fingers hard enough to leave bruising.

Garp was long dead when Sabo found him. The smell of his skin burning off is something that will haunt Sabo for the rest of his life. (Sometimes certain smells will set him off. Uncooked bacon is not allowed in the house anymore after one traumatic morning when Luffy is six. Campfires are viewed and enjoyed from a distance.)

He was lying on his stomach, clutching something to his chest. Sabo knew it was Luffy by the cries, bundled up in a few quilts and one of this office rugs, and Sabo knew he had to get them out of there before the smoke killed them off like it had a personal agenda against them.

The heat was unbearable, Sabo had confessed, but it was nothing compared to having to drag Luffy from underneath Garp’s grip. The old man was built like a brick house, sure, but even in death, his grip on Luffy, protecting Luffy, like he was daring the world to take anything away from him, was steadfast and almost unbbreakable.

It was the hardest thing Sabo had ever had to make himself do.

He didn’t look at Garp’s face. His body was burned black and bloody and raw, and Sabo couldn’t live with himself if his memory of Garp’s face was replaced by anything other than with the one of his scruffy beard and the shit-eating grin that he always wore.

When he pulled Luffy out, he didn’t look back, and raced out of the house as fast as he could. Something along the way fell and smacked him in the face, knocking him down at one point, but Sabo couldn’t pay it much mind. He got back up, and continued towards the door. He could barely see, barely breathe, with all the smoke and the ash, and the pain from the fire was almost numbing against his skin, but he didn’t stop.

All he could think about was Luffy, still struggling and crying against the blankets wrapped tightly around him. Next thing he knew, he was outside, and looking up at Ace’s snot-covered face.

Ace had never seen Sabo cry for the almost 10 years he knew him. He didn’t cry when he was 7, and the Anderson family had called him a freak and had sent him back after a failed foster home placement. He didn’t cry when he was 9, and broke his arm falling out of the tree in their backyard that Garp had told him not to climb, so of course he had to climb it. And he didn’t even cry earlier that day, at 15, when he was off medication and feeling the full extent of his painful burns.

So when tears started pooling out of Sabo’s pale blue eyes, falling down his cheeks and staining the cotton white blanket he was under as he told his story, Ace pretended not to notice, wrapped an arm around Sabo’s shoulders, and held him like it was the only lifeline in the world.

Garp’s funeral was held the following week. Closed casket. All the police departments in the county, and even some outside of it, showed up to give him a full send-off. Ace cried for both Sabo and himself. Sabo spoke a few words for the both of them. And Luffy stood between them, holding both their hands. They explained the night before that gramps was gone, but they don’t think the notion of death really got through to Luffy. He was crying, but only because Ace was crying, and when he asked ‘can gramps come out of the box to give me a hug before he goes away?’ everyone has to clench their teeth and hold their breaths to stop their hearts from breaking. Sabo kneeled down to wrap Luffy in a tight hug. Ace covered his face with his arm and cried harder

(They never bother asking Luffy about how the fire started, or what happened that day. Luffy doesn’t remember, and they don’t push it further. The truth isn’t as important as Luffy’s mentality is, but Garp’s old squad promises that they won’t rest until they get to the bottom of it. And as much as Ace and Sabo want justice and revenge, they have Luffy to think about, so they leave it up to the police)

Sabo and Ace are almost 16, and they suddenly have no parental figure, no home, no anything, and suddenly they’re faced with the horrible notion that even more can be taken from them when a blast from their past threatens to take Luffy away from them too.

They’re no stranger to the foster care system, so when social services show up at the motel they were renting with Garp’s savings, they feel their hearts drop to their stomach for fear of the very real possibility that Luffy will be placed in immediate foster care, and possibly, so would they.

Ace and Sabo jump into action then, because no way, no fucking way, were they gonna lose Luffy. They had lost everything else. They almost did lose Luffy. They weren’t gonna risk that chance again.

Ace was only a few weeks older than Sabo. Sabo hadn’t paused a second to jump into the fire, risking life and limb, to protect what little they had. It was Ace’s turn to be the heroic older brother. And on the day he turned 16, Ace petitioned legal guardianship and parental rights for Sabo and Luffy.

And it was hard, because of course the courts felt sorry for him, the grandson of one of the best police chiefs in the county’s history, begging the courts to let him keep what little family he had left together. The courts wanted to give it to him, wanted to help him. But Luffy was a child. And Ace and Sabo were practically still kids themselves. Asking kids to raise themselves was something no one should ask them to do.

But Ace and Sabo fought for it. Ace was 16, and Sabo would be 16 soon enough. They could get GED’s, no problem. They’d get jobs, get a little apartment near Luffy’s school, attend any parenting and child service meeting required of them. They’d buy all the necessities over again and they’d love Luffy where no other foster family could even compare. They’d do everything, everything and anything, to keep Luffy. To let them stay together.

With a couple of vouchers from Garp’s old police squad, including one from an overly enthusiastic Edward Newgate and one from the boy’s homeroom teacher, Makino, the courts ruled in Ace’s and Sabo’s favor, and Luffy was officially theirs until they proved that Luffy was better off somewhere else.

Ace and Sabo were never gonna let that happen.

They got a little 2 bedroom apartment a couple blocks from Luffy’s elementary. They quit school, and worked extra hard to earn their GED’s within the following months. (With the help of their old teachers and a few of their overly enthusiastic neighbors)

Ace got a job at the local fire department, as a rookie in training under Newgate.

Sabo got a job at the local news station, writing reports on top of his interning duties.

Ace eventually got a motorcycle that same year, which scared Sabo half to death and delighted Luffy to no end. It was cheaper than a car, and easier to travel to and from work on, and no matter how hard Sabo tried, he couldn’t come up with a valid reason why Ace shouldn’t use it to their advantage. So Sabo made Ace promise to always wear a helmet when riding it, and that Luffy wasn’t allowed to ride it until he was much older. (Which Luffy pouted about to no end)

And it’s hard at times, both of them working overtime just to make enough to support themselves and keep them afloat, but it’s good, and it’s theirs.

Luffy makes a friend on his first day of first grade named Zoro Roronoa, another kid that lives just across the street from them, and when Ace and Sabo know they’re gonna be late in getting home, Luffy goes over there and hangs out until they can pick him up (Which is totally fine with Zoro’s father Koushirou, a kendo teacher and single father of 6-year-old Zoro and 9-year-old Kuina. Zoro has a bit of a personality problem and often has trouble making friends (because the child doesn’t see a need to) so when little bright-eyed and endlessly joyful Luffy pops into their life, Kushirou jumps at the chance to have him over as much as possible, because the two small children seem to bring out the best in each other, and are best friends attached at the hip) Sabo and Ace are eternally grateful to the kind man)

A few years go by, and Luffy is 8. Ace is still working at the fire station and is now legally allowed to join them on calls and emergencies. (Fire used to make Ace nervous, because he almost lost everything to it. Now he has a personal agenda with it, to make sure it doesn’t take anything from anyone else)

Sabo has moved up the ranks now, and when he turns 18, confronts Ace with a rare job opportunity he was offered.

“It’s a year-long internship for this really cool company that reports and delivers high-class diplomatic information around,” Sabo starts, rubbing the back of his head like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “I’d be working as like, a cool undercover spy with diplomatic immunity and a messenger bag. It’s not dangerous at all, and pays almost triple my paycheck now, which would really help us out. But it’s overseas, and I’d be gone for a whole year. You’d be raising Luffy all by yourself, birthdays and holidays and skinned knees, with just the two of you, so say the word, and I’ll totally turn this job down on the spot.”

And it’s scary to Ace. Because he hasn’t been alone since he was 6 years old, and he can’t possibly remember a time when Sabo hadn’t been by his side. His best friend and brother. It was always the two of them. Two little runaways that found a home, lost that home, and then built a new home all on their own despite it all. And neither of them had ever been away from Luffy for longer than a weekend, so Ace was sure it would kill Sabo to be away from them for so long.

But he also knew that Sabo was only playing this off like it wasn’t a big deal, when in fact it was the job opportunity of a lifetime for someone like Sabo, a kid who breathed adventure and freedom with every breath. And that when he talked about it, his eyes sparkled with a joy that Ace would hate himself forever for taking it away.

Sabo was giving Ace the choice, and Ace knew that Sabo would go along with whatever Ace decided without a second thought or complaint. But Ace knew that Sabo would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't go, so he slugged Sabo in the arm, gave him his best shit-eating, confident grin, (the kind he used to give him right before they were about to steal some food as kids, or about to get into a fight when they were teens) and said, “You let me have a motorcycle. The least I can do is let you go road tripping abroad.”

Because Ace and Luffy would be fine. They’d miss Sabo like crazy, and Ace was pretty sure Sabo was like, 90% of his impulse control, but they’d survive. Sabo had the burn marks to prove how far he was willing to go for their family, and Ace had never thanked him for that. Ace was never gonna live that down, and was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to both Sabo AND Luffy, and prove just how good of an older brother he could be. This was the least he could do for them.

#my work #one piece #monkey d. luffy #Portgas D. Ace #sabo #asl brothers #age gap au #oh ho look at me #my fics all start after this moment when sabo is overseas #so this is just context for that.#enjoy please and sorry in advance #i've thought too much about this au #it lives rent free in my head always

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serendipityjxmn · 3 years

Text

Mr. President

Chapter 20

TW: Explicit violence, mentions of guns, drugs trafficking, gory killing scene

Words Count: 3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 21

At first, you’re more like a property to him. He learned that the only way he can keep something or someone around for a long time, is if he treats them like a property. Because human’s feelings change, and he needs to protect himself from hurting.

Everything that he’s told you, the reason behind the marriage, the purpose of you are all true.

He needs to marry anyway, as one of the stupid ancient condition his old father has set and he knows his father had set it to make him stay grounded.

He scoffs, wondering why his father doesn’t learn from his past mistakes. And that’s why he’s made a plan on his own, to marry someone without a powerful background, one he can easily dispose when it’s time, one who won’t be a liability to him. A tool.

And now that tool is missing. He pinches his temple, eyes shut close. He’s alone in his office, late at night because he doesn’t sleep well these days.

Since his wife had packed her bags, left him and gone missing.

He sighs thinking about the last argument he had with you. It’s your own fault for building castles in the air and mistaking those as his genuine gesture and fall in love with him. And he realises that because he is not stupid. And during that one night, he sees you, fully sees you and he can’t deny the desire it stirred in his mind. This may be a temporary marriage but it doesn’t mean that he can’t touch you. After all, you are his wife. He knows you are beautiful, he’d known it since the first day because he isn’t blind. Yet he knows he can’t touch you without your consent. Although he did slip up because he tends to lose his vigilance around you. And that’s how he came up with another proposal.

Yet the proposal took a very different turn and became your last straw to leave him.

He couldn’t believe that you’re stupid enough to fall in love with him. Don’t you fear him? You know he’s dangerous yet you still confess your love to him and he doesn’t know whether to worship you at your feet or spanks you for it.

He’s never led you on and has never failed to remind what you are to him, simply an object yet you still fall for him.

He lets out another heavy sigh. Because frankly, he doesn’t know what to do. All of these aren’t supposed to happen and you’re not supposed to love him.

He had put up barriers and boundaries around himself and that’d made it very hard for anyone to simply approach him. People don’t approach him unless they want something from him and he’s well aware of it because he knows how the world works. Not to mention the fact that he’s the leader of the biggest mafia gang, notorious for all sorts of services they offer; machinery, assassinations, bribery, illegal weaponry, drugs trafficking and namely everything else. That had made it a billion times more difficult for anyone to approach or him to let anyone in.

And you’re well aware of it.

But you still fall for him.

He just doesn’t get it; how you’re able to fall for him despite knowing who he is and what he’s capable of.

He scoffs thinking how he could easily kill you. You’re too soft, weak and fragile.

Yet you still fall for him.

Despite knowing how easily he could kill you.

And without asking for anything in return.

And Jimin doesn’t find that believable at all. And at the face of such genuine adoration, he doesn’t know what to do. Because who on earth would be stupid enough to do that?

But you did. You are his stupid wife.

And that makes it even easier to kill you, not just by him. And the thought of anyone laying a finger on you angers him. It makes him want to kill someone. Tear their limbs one by one. Burn them alive. There’s just too many options.

But first he has to find you.

He sighs, for the hundredth time. You’re such a headache.

And that’s when his phone rings. A call from a private number.

“If it isn’t Y/N’s beloved husband..”

Jimin could feel his whole body tensing. “Who are you?”

The person from the other end laughs. “Damn, I need to come find you more often so you’d remember. You beat me into a pulp before.. and now I want leverage. You think you can just take my sister for free?“

Jimin’s hand clamp in a tight fist. “Jay.”

“You remember.. not bad. You see, when you take my little sister, you’ve caused me some complications. You can say she’s my source of income. She’s a pretty slut, no denying that. And I could’ve earned fortunes from selling her off. And you-“

“How much do you want?” Jimin cuts him off.

“Ah.. you’re a smart man.” He laughs before his tone turns serious again. “100 million won would do. For now. And don’t bullshit me saying you don’t have money or whatever. I know you have that much.”

“Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll text you the time and place. And don’t think of calling the police or bring your little friends. I have someone powerful backing me. She’s my little sister, but I’m not gonna hesitate to do anything if you don’t listen to my words. Right, little sister?”

A shrieking scream piercing through the phone is the last thing Jimin hears before Jay hangs up. Jimin’s whole body filled with rage and he grips his phone so tight it almost breaks into two.

“He’s not gonna come...” you slur, your vision not entirely clear and your swollen lips making it hard to enunciate words once Jay finishes his phone call to your husband.

“We’ll see about that bitch. And if he doesn’t.. count your time now..” he says in full malicious tone.

You don’t know how long you’ve been knocked out again but you wake up when you hear commotions.

“And the knight is finally here.” You hear your brother’s voice.

You struggle to focus on your vision. Your whole body freezes when your husband comes into view.

There’s no way Jimin’s here.

Perhaps it’s just a hallucination.

It’s a whole level of pathetic, you think. Because even when you’re in this state, he’s all you could see.

Perhaps you’re really nearing the end of your life, and your mind conjures whatever it desperately wants the most.

“Clara, what the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” The person hisses.

And it’s weird because it’s your husband’s voice.

You blink several times.

And there really is your husband, walking into the warehouse alone. He can’t had possibly willingly walks into a lion’s den alone like that? It’s like a death wish.

Clara turns immediately as soon as she sees Jimin. “Ah.. Jimin.. my Jimin..”

Someone comes and pushes Jimin forward and makes him sit on a chair and tie his hands on his back.

You swallow thickly. You still can’t process the fact that your husband is here.

He finally turns to look at you and he stares at you for several moments, just taking in the sight of battered you covered in bruises and blood and you see the clench in his jaw.

You let out a gasp when the guy standing beside him takes out his gun and points the muzzle on the back of his head. You feel anger bubbling inside you at the sight of it.

Gathering all source of strength, you yell, “Leave my husband out of this Jay!”

Jay quickly steps forward and leaves a stinging slap on your cheek. “If you dare hurt him..” you start and earns another slap from him, making you whimper in pain. You cough several times, your throat feels like burning.

Jimin eyes you furiously. “Keep quiet. Don’t make any sound.” He says, jaw still clenched very tightly. “Clara, what the fuck is this? Why are you here?”

She comes and slowly sits on Jimin’s lap. You notice how he doesn’t flinch away or jerk from her touch. “Baby.. we’ve dealt for years.. good business, good sex. And then you’re suddenly married and you just.. I don’t know, changed?” She says as she runs her fingers across your husband’s cheek.

Jimin just glares at her. “Why did you help him?”

She runs her hand down from his cheeks to his jaw and then settles on his chest, palms flat against them. She shrugs then. “I don’t know.. you know I’m a little crazy. I like having fun. And things.. had been boring. Business is boring, you are boring.. and perhaps I’m trying to put you in place a little, you asshole.” She glares at him.

He gives a very murderous look. “I’m gonna make sure you regret this.”

She leans closer. “Awww shh baby.. I’m not gonna hurt your precious little wife..” and closer. You realize she’s about to kiss him and you hastily look away. You don’t want the last memory you have of your husband before you die is being kissed by another woman. She gets up from his lap, fingers still faintly brushing him everywhere. Then she smirks. “But maybe he will.” She laughs and then exits through the door.

“Did you come with what I ask for?” Jay asks and Jimin juts his chin towards a large black duffel bag on the floor beside him that you hadn’t realized. Jay grins. “Nice doing business with you.. brother in law.”

“Now let us go.” Jimin says.

Jay stops inspecting the money inside the bag and turns to look at him. “No, don’t think it’s that easy..” He signals something and one of his men comes forward. “See, perhaps you don’t really know my sister.. but let me tell you this. She is a fucking whore. And I’m gonna let her be a whore. And you.. you’re going to watch every single men here stick their dick into her pussy.”

Your whole body goes numb as soon as you hear that. Desperately, you glance at your husband. He doesn’t look at you but instead just stares at your brother. You’ve never seen him look so murderous before. Your eyes widen in panic when they pull you from the chair and then roughly push you till you’re kneeling on the floor on all four.

“J-Jimin-” you say, voice thick with desperation.

“Sshh.. shh little sister.. don’t worry.. perhaps your husband might even get hard from this. Don’t you want to please your husband?” Jay smirks.

You feel you eyes start to water when your brain reaches an end and think that there’s no way of escaping this.

He calls one of his men and several others starts to approach as well, all wearing the same look of lust. Jay grabs a handful of your hair and yank it backwards, forcing you to look up. “She’s all yours..”

The nearest guy smirks and licks his lips as he looks at you and starts to strip his pants. You look away immediately. You let out a cry when the guy kneels beside you and yanks your jeans down, exposing your bottom.

“No, no please, please-“ you start to beg and Jimin hisses.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He grits. “Don’t beg.”

You look at him and find him staring right back at you.

“Just look at me.” He says and fresh set of tears run down your cheeks.

The guy smacks your behind making you cry in pain and you almost collapse to the ground but he holds your waist firmly, groping each side harshly. Then, you feel a hand slides from your shoulder towards your throat and slowly starts choking you.

Your head starts to spin from the lack of air supply and you want to scream so badly but no words could come out. The pressure on your throat is so immense and your lung starts to ache.

Then you see a knife hovering in front of you.

A moment of realization hits you that you’re really about to die and it suddenly makes it so imperative that you tell something to Jimin.

“J-Jimin- I love-“

But before you could finish your words, you hear people bursting the doors open and people in suits come rushing in large quantity.

You try to focus your vision on your husband.

His face is calm. Too calm.

Your sight moves towards the crowd rushing in again and briefly sees Taeseok among them and a rush of relief runs through you. The guy choking you eases his grip on your throat instantly as he gets distracted and you feel like collapsing immediately as you struggle to breath again.

Everything happens so quickly. Someone rushes to your husband’s side and unties him and then he’s beside you instantly while someone else unties you. You try your best to glance behind you and sees Jungkook frantically untying you after fixing your clothes.

“Y/N oh my god-“

Jimin quickly shrugs his coat off his shoulder and immediately covers you. He looks at you as he holds you tight. His embrace is so warm and you just want to close your eyes and lean against him. “Keep your eyes open, we’re getting out of here.” He says roughly.

You’re not entirely sure with your vision but you think someone gives Jimin a gun and he starts shooting at people and you freeze, sounds blaring so loudly in your ear. You let out a strangled scream and you squirm away under his embrace that he looks down immediately. Then he looks at Jungkook.

“Jungkook.” He says and Jungkook nods and you feel yourself slipping out of Jimin’s hold while Jungkook brings you flush against him.

For a moment, there are just sounds of guns, people screaming and punches being thrown.

Jungkook pulls you to the side where it’s safer but you just can’t shut your eyes when there’s too many things going on. You then try to focus on your husband. He’s a good few metres away from you and you couldn’t clearly see the face of the other person but you think Jimin’s holding the guy that was going to rape you just now. And then he shoots him right in the head without thinking. And then another shot right at his chest even though the guy’s already crumbling to the ground, lifeless.

Someone then comes up and thrusts your brother to Jimin, making him kneel in front of your husband. You don’t see it before but you now notice that he’s holding a knife on his right hand. Jay’s expression turns horror as Jimin nears him. And then slowly, your husband carves his face with the knife as your brother’s inhuman shriek fills the warehouse.

Your eyes go wide with horror as you watch the traumatising scene unfolds. You feel a scream bubbling from deep inside your throat yet they’re unable to escape from your lips. Your throat somehow still feels constricted.

“Holy fucking shit.” Jungkook mutters and you realize his grip on your arms tightens.

It’s slowly getting more quiet in the warehouse as most of your brother’s or Clara Kim’s men are now dead as they were hugely outnumbered by Jimin’s people. You then realize that he’s taking his time with your brother.

“What did you say you’re about to do to my wife? Cut out her face?” He chuckles. “Let me show you the real art.”

He leans close.

And then he carves your brother’s right eye out while he shrieks in pain.

“This is for touching my wife.”

And then he carves the other one.

“This is for messing with me.”

The scream finally escapes your lips.

“Fuck-“ Jungkook says and quickly covers your eyes and mouth.

The screaming doesn’t stop for a few more minutes and you think you’ll remember your brother’s inhuman scream till the day you die.

“Jimin stop it. She’s gonna get a trauma.” You hear someone says. Jin..?

You hear footsteps approaching you and then suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is being yanked away and your husband’s face comes into view. His forehead beaded with sweat and his expression furious.

You look at him in horror, frankly still traumatised and terrified at him.

But he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he thrusts a gun into your hand. “Do you want to kill him?”

Your panic immediately and clutched his arm desperately. “No, no please- let’s just go-“

“Ssh.. ssh I’m here.” He takes back the gun. “And we’re gonna get out of here.” He pulls you into his embrace, cocks the gun and fire a shot straight into Jay’s head.

Your entire body freeze. You watch in horror as your brother’s life starts seeping out, his breathing ragged until finally.. it stops.

“Good God- did you really have to shoot him in front of Y/N?” You hear Namjoon says.

“What?” Jimin asks, confused.

“God, you’re so stupid sometimes Park Jimin.” Yoongi says roughly.

Your husband finally turns to look at you and registers the paleness of your face. “Y/N, you okay?” He asks and then makes you stand to your feet. He keeps his hand steady on your waist and you’re thankful because you can’t feel your feet at all.

You don’t know how but from the corner of your eyes, you see someone who’s lying on the floor slowly lifts a gun and your eyes widen when you realize he’s aiming at your husband.

One of Jimin’s bodyguard sees it too and moves to kick the gun away and he did- but not before the guy cocks the gun and all the bodyguard manages to do is change the target, because the bullet hits you instead.

You fell to the ground immediately when the bullet cuts through your shoulder. It’s weird because it hurts so much that you almost feel nothing at all.

Jimin’s eyes widen when he sees you.

For a brief moment, you think you see your whole life flashes by in your mind very quickly.

If you die right now at the hands of your husband.. that you’d fallen in love with.. it doesn’t seem so bad..

You smile.

Then slowly, you bring your hand up to Jimin’s face to touch him one last time.

And then everything blacks out.

A/N: I rarely write post chapter notes because I’m afraid it would destroy your emotions lol but I just wanna thank everyone who had given support since day 1.. the story would not have come this far without the kind words you guys gave me. I feel a little bit emotional because we’re almost more than halfway through with their journey.. haha okay I’ll stop here. see you guys in the next chap! 🥰

Buy me a coffee here! 💜

Link to Chapter 21

Posted on 210516 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

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zintranslations · 3 years

Text

Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 6

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths (3)

The first person to leave a door could gain a hint about the next door. This was preferential treatment and leniency that the door awarded the victor. This was also an affirmation of strength.

But what many people didn't know was that when only one person was left in a door, that person, upon leaving the door, would earn a very special sort of hint. The person who possessed this hint gained not only detailed insight into the next door, but also a chance to save their own life.

For reasons, Ruan Nanzhu had never told Cheng Yixie about this. Cheng Yixie only learned about it by accident.

And Cheng Yixie, after just barely scraping his way out of the seventh door, had also come to a realization. He'd realized that he couldn't protect Cheng Qianli. The world of the doors was treacherous and ever-changing; no matter how smart he was, he was just a mortal in the end, and all mortals made mistakes. Mistakes in daily life may be utterly unimportant, but mistakes made inside the doors could cost you your life.

Cheng Yixie returned to the mansion, saw Cheng Qianli's brilliant grin embracing Toast, and made a silent decision.

Everything that followed became so reasonable.

Cheng Yixie was clever, and when clever people did bad things, they were naturally adept.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing, Cheng Yixie." Ruan Nanzhu very quickly figured out Cheng Yixie's deviancy, and he and Cheng Yixie had their very first explosive argument. "You're going to get Cheng Qianli killed, as well as yourself!"

Against Ruan Nanzhu's accusations, Cheng Yixie chose silence.

"Stop this, while you still can," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Don't wait until it's too late to turn back…"

Cheng Yixie gave Ruan Nanzhu an answer. He said, "Cheng Qianli's not even eighteen yet."

He held onto the railings, looking out over the lush green yard where Cheng Qianli and Toast were chasing each other around in play.

"If only one of us can survive, I hope it to be him."

Ruan Nanzhu, "but there are other ways. You're choosing the stupidest method—"

"But it's the most lucrative." Cheng Yixie was no older than fourteen, but there wasn’t any trace of a child's innocence to be found in his eyes. His pupils were deep lakes, in which were hidden things even Ruan Nanzhu couldn't comprehend. "Sorry, Ruan-ge, I really can't just watch Qianli die."

Ruan Nanzhu knew he had no chance of convincing Cheng Yixie. He said no more, and walked away.

At this point, the worst that Cheng Yixie had done was let people go to their deaths. But after…Cheng Yixie closed his eyes. He never wanted to talk about what happened after anymore.

Once someone broke their bottom line, it was like plunging into a quagmire; you could only keep sinking.

Had it been anybody else, Ruan Nanzhu would likely have already kicked Cheng Yixie out of Obsidian. But Cheng Yixie was just a kid. He was like a fresh-grown sapling that, before it could even grow up straight, got snapped at the waist by the battering rains and winds.

Cheng Yixie began to sink deeper and deeper in to the abyss, until he had no way of ever getting out.

Everybody said what went around would always come back around; Cheng Yixie thought that he would be the one to pay for the things he did. Once people do wrong, they had to pay a price. Cheng Yixie was willing to pay for his sins with his life.

But on the day retribution truly came, Cheng Yixie finally learned that some things didn't happen as easily as he's imagined.

The tenth door was hellishly difficult.

Even with the special hint slip, Cheng Yixie was running on the last of nine lives inside.

Just as he had Cheng Qianli, and the two were stumbling their way to the door, they discovered that where the door should have been was instead a giant green bronze statue. The statue was beastly and looked like a demon, and the green bronze encasing it was beginning to crack, revealing hard skin as black as lava rock underneath.

Seeing such a scene, Cheng Yixie knew the monster before him was about to wake. Though the door was right behind it, they still couldn't make their way through.

"Gege," Cheng Yixie spoke quietly, standing behind Cheng Yixie. "I'm scared." The hand he held Cheng Yixie's with was covered in sweat, and there was a helpless tremor in his voice.

"Don't be scared, I'm right here," Cheng Yixie comforted Cheng Qianli quietly. He took a deep breath, and then stuck a hand in his pants pocket, settling on the sharp dagger folded inside. "Just listen to me, and it'll be fine."

Cheng Qianli scooted closer. He seemed to have sensed something, and wrapped Cheng Yixie up in a tight embrace. They were twins, after all; they felt everything together. Through the thin clothing between them, Cheng Yixie could feel the heat of Cheng Qianli's body as well as the anxiety in Cheng Qianli's heart.

"Gege." Cheng Qianli's voice was filled with woe, and even sounded a bit choked. "Is it about to come to life?"

The monster behind them had already exposed the blood red of its eyes. The giant jaw packed full of fangs began to savagely snap. It looked ready to pounce at any moment.

"Mh," Cheng Yixie said. "But it won't be able to hurt you."

"Why am I so stupid?" Cheng Qianli said. "If only I were smarter." His tone of voice was agonized. "If only I were smarter, then Gege wouldn't have to work so hard…"

Cheng Qianli's arms around Cheng Yixie slowly began to loosen, and his voice too grew faint.

"But no matter how stupid I am, I still know what Gege wants to do…"

Cheng Yixie felt that something had gone wrong. His voice froze for a moment, and he slowly turned his head.

"Qianli…"

"Hey, I brought one too," Cheng Qianli said. "I hid it in my pants pocket, just like you."

He was smiling, but was likely also in agony—this smile was particularly hideous.

Cheng Yixie’s head inched down, and he saw a dagger stuck in Cheng Qianli’s chest. Bright red blood was flowing like a babbling brook down his chest, soaking his clothes and puddling on the ground.

Cheng Yixie saw that dagger, and felt himself reeling. He opened his mouth to say something, but the image before him appeared to have utterly stolen his ability to talk. He couldn't say anything, and his body slowly slumped forward.

"Ge…it hurts…" Cheng Qianli collapsed in Cheng Yixie's arms, black eyes big and staring. His pupils reflected Cheng Yixie's figure. He called, "Ge…"

"Aah…Aaaah!!" A wretched scream came out of his mouth, and Cheng Yixie could only watch as Cheng Qianli's breaths grew fainter. The roar of the monster behind him came from a spot directly over Cheng Yixie's head, but Cheng Yixie didn't turn around. The monster lunged at him and—

A black shadow enveloped Cheng Yixie. He ought to have been torn to pieces by the monster, but a faint sheen of light was emanating from his body. It partitioned the monster's attack directly away from him.

In Cheng Yixie's arms, Cheng Qianli's chest had stopped moving. With a numb expression Cheng Yixie turned around, spotting that huge black door behind the monster. He saw that door and stumbled to his feet with Cheng Qianli in his arms. He made a run for that door, unlocking it with the key drenched in blood. He still wanted to see Cheng Qianli again. There were still so many things he hadn't said to him.

Cheng Yixie sprinted out that tunnel like he had gone crazy, grabbing the Cheng Qianli outside in an embrace. The moment Cheng Qianli offered him a smile, mouthful after mouthful of blood began pouring out of Cheng Qianli's mouth. Cheng Qianli touched his face, called him Ge, told him not be sad.

Cheng Yixie was wailing. His Qianli, this was his Qianli—the kid he loved the most still hadn't been able to grow up. Hadn't even passed his eighteenth birthday. Certainly hadn't gotten to see all the beautiful sceneries of the world like he'd hoped.

What came afterwards, Cheng Yixie didn't really remember. He didn't really remember how he got through that time. By the time he came back to himself, he'd already left Obsidian, and was crossing doors with Zhuo Feiquan.

Zhuo Feiquan, like him, was a person left behind at the end of the world. Zhuo Feiquan no longer had a sister, and Cheng Yixie no longer had a brother. Zhuo Feiquan's luck was just a lot better than Cheng Yixie's, that's all—he had a pendant that his sister's soul laid in.

"Hey, you're not planning on getting me killed inside the doors and stealing my pendant, are you?" Zhuo Feiquan spoke frankly. "I'm telling you, I'm hardy as hell."

Cheng Yixie looked at him, answering faintly, "forget it. I thought about it, but it's better not to do it."

"Why not?" Zhuo Feiquan asked.

"I'm afraid he'll have to pay for the bad things I do again." Cheng Yixie's tone was cold. "Look, isn't that the case now?"

He didn't even dare to die, because his life had been traded in for Qianli's. That little fool had to be smart just this once, but this one time was all it took to torture him to death and back.

Zhuo Feiquan threw back his head and laughed.

To have experienced the same pain of losing family, the two actually had an odd resonance. Only those days didn't last. Zhuo Feiquan died in his own tenth door, and before dying, he placed his pendant in Cheng Yixie's hand. He didn't say anything, because both of them already knew.

Cheng Yixie clutched the pendant that Zhuo Feiquan gave him and managed a smile, meaning he had accepted Zhuo Feiquan's good will.

Once he had the pendant, Cheng Yixie wondered if he should use it to summon Cheng Qianli. But after thinking about it, he didn't do it. Because he remembered that Cheng Qianli was scared of ghosts.

If he wasn't there, Cheng Qianli could only wait around inside the doors. That was probably another kind of torture.

Cheng Yixie wouldn't do that to him.

The days went on one at a time. So Cheng Yixie thought that this would be the end of his and Cheng Qianli's story. He still went through doors in a state of numbness. He might die inside one of these days, but to the him right now, death seemed more like a merciful blessing and escape.

This continued on like this until Cheng Yixie went into his own eleventh door.

In his eleventh door, when he saw Tan Zaozao on television, Cheng Yixie became conscious of something. He left the hospital that he'd entered the door through in a hurry. He went back to his house and knocked on that familiar door.

Moments later, the door opened to reveal a face completely identical to his. And when he saw Cheng Yixie, he looked on with a stunned expression.

Cheng Yixie began to laugh, ignoring Cheng Qianli's shock completely and wrapping him up in a hug. He said, "idiot, Gege's been looking for you for such a long time." I thought that once I'd lost you, I would never get you back.

Good thing that now, he was finally found.

And since he was found, staying in this illusory world of the door seemed to be…not all that bad.

The once-split soul merged back together then, from two to one, just like the moment they were birthed from their mother's body. A satisfied smile appeared on Cheng Yixie's face. He dried the tears at the corners of his eyes and watched as the sun outside the window slowly descended beneath the horizon.

Translator’s Note:

Look, I need those of you who have even a passing understanding of Chinese to suffer this passage with me: 程一榭嚎啕大哭，他的千里，他的千里啊——他心愛的小孩還是沒能長大. The original is simply “HIs Qianli, his Qianli ah...” Just a fucking WAIL. Like me. Just fucking head back, sobbing at the ceiling.

[Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(2)] | [Extra: Bai Ming and Zhang Yiqing]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒 #look mother i'm crying again #but this counts as HE i think #we get a break in the next extra #and then the last extra is Tan Zaozao ahahahah--#look i'll get those two done at the same time too #and recommend you read the tzz one first bc #y'know #then you get to end on a cheery stupid gays note

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