#guns for hire alternative ending

[avvail-whumps]

to elaborate on the last anon: i'm curious to see how roy would treat leo while prepping for being in hiding (like dying their hair, during car rides, etc) and then also once they're all settled in

“Close your eyes, lion.”

The sharp command made Leo obey almost immediately, swallowing down the intense fear when the mercenary’s hands pushed him down over the sink, not kind nor gentle in the slightest. His mind automatically let out a cruel ‘can you blame him?’ and it only broke him further.

The luke warm water ran over his head, and he felt Roy’s fingers dragging through his hair without a care for his comfort, roughly scrubbing the dye from his locks. He bit the inside of his cheek, not daring to even let a single noise slip from his lips.

Roy had barely spoken any words to him.

Not during the car journey, not even as they found themselves in this strange place. They’d wandered into a completely normal shop, but the mercenary had gone straight for the man behind the counter.

They’d exchanged a few words, something about a TV? It was all gibberish and code to Leo, and the man behind the counter had suddenly turned very serious, leading them down under the shop.

Now he was here - darkening his hair until had turned a dark brown.

When Roy released him, Leo fumbled with stinging water in his eyes, wincing when a towel was thrown at him. He grasped it with shaking hands, desperately scrubbing the water that got in his eyes. He heard a new pair of footsteps, cracking an eye open to see the man behind the counter walking down the stairs.

He barely looked Leo’s way, opting to approach Roy instead.

“We’ve got two and a half hours tops,” the man told him, his voice low. Leo could feel his hair dripping, and scrambled to dry his it before it got everywhere. Roy kicked open a folded chair, sitting down on it with a curt sigh. Leo tried not to look.

“I know, Gary,” he responded, his voice tight. “I’m keeping an eye on the clock. Do you have everything ready?”

The man – Gary – nodded, his expression stern. “Everything’s set up. Just need the pictures and I’ll give you those plane tickets.”

Leo’s stomach twisted into a painful knot. Plane tickets? He suddenly felt very sick. That meant they could be going anywhere in the world, and no one would be able to find him. He really might never see his father after finally being reunited.

A sharp snap caught his attention, his eyes obediently darting to Roy. Sure enough, the man was looking at him with those hardened eyes.

“Over here, lion.”

He grasped the towel, doing as he was told. Leo knows what doing the opposite had done for him - this. Seeing his father’s limp body in the hallway of their home, praying that he made a speedy recovery. He wondered what he was doing now. If Sharpe and Summers were looking for him. If they would ever find him again.

When he was close enough, Roy’s finger dug into the flesh of his forearm without a care, jerking him down to the floor by his feet. He was forced to sit, legs crossed, back to Roy as the mercenary shifted about, the chair creaking slightly.

Gary was watching intently, and it was making Leo nervous. Fingers combed back the damp hair, and the whir of a hairdryer picked up, warm air beginning to blow through his brown locks. Roy wasn’t particularly rough, and it was the nicest he had been since he came to the house to drag his lion back.

Gary was still staring at Leo. It seemed he was trying to get a guage of who he was, and finally, recognition flickered in his eyes, lip quirking with a twitch of a smirk.

“Ain’t he the one that you got in this mess?” Gary murmured, loud enough to be heard over the hairdryer. Leo kept his eyes to the ground, focusing on the feeling of the mercenary’s fingers combing through his hair. “Thought I recognised him from the trial.”

Roy didn’t say anything. He could sense he was still mad that he had succumbed to the pressure from the detectives and thrown him under the bus; it seemed his uncle was always going to pay the bail. He continued to dry Leo’s hair. Gary hummed at his reaction.

“I thought your uncle would have disposed of him.”

Leo’s nails dug into his palms, his expression twisted in discomfort.

“I convinced him not to,” Roy answered curtly, giving the secretary’s hair one last blow over before he was satisfied. The hairdryer was cut off. “For whatever reason, my uncle is fine keeping me happy.”

“Probably trying to sweeten you up,” Gary hummed. “He’ll want you back. I think he always has.”

The mercenary let out a bitter laugh. He rose from the chair, causing Leo’s head to tilt back in confusion, those big blue eyes staring at him quizzically. The mercenary motioned for him to sit on the chair, and he was quick to obey.

“My uncle practically left me to die,” Roy hummed, though his brow was raised languidly, like the topic of discussion didn’t bother him in the slightest. Gary moved behind the chair, tilting Leo’s head back a little bit so it was straight. He heard the snip of scissors. “I don’t need to owe him anymore than I already do for paying my bail.”

Leo wanted to shrink into a tiny ball, feeling Roy’s scrutinizing gaze piercing straight through him.

More snips. The secretary tried not to cry.

“If you say so,” Gary hummed quietly.

Sinking into his mind, Leo tried to focus only on the rhythmic snipping of the scissors, the comb through his hair, the fingers that weren’t intent on hurting him. He tried to pretend he was at the hairdressers, eyes closed as the therapeutic atmosphere overtook him, completely drowning in a reality that wasn’t his own.

When Gary finished, Leo’s eyes cracked open, mourning for a life he wouldn’t get. He wanted to believe that Roy would be kind to him again. Maybe he would, if Leo was good. He really hoped so.

His head felt lighter. His fingers ran over the back of his head, shocked by the lack of thickness he felt. It wasn’t crawling over his neck anymore, most of the loose, fluffy hair on the top, resting in curly loops. The shock must have been evident on his face, because the next thing he knew, Roy’s fingers were gently tapping his chin, tilting his head back.

Leo’s heart lurched into his throat. His skin burned from the contact.

The mercenary observed him for a long few seconds, before his lips finally quirked into a lazy smirk.

“It suits you, lion,” he purred, gently brushing his thumb under the mop of curls. Leo desperately, keenly, almost frantically leaned into the touch, relishing in the kind contact. Roy released a breathless chuckle. “More than I was expecting.”

If Roy liked it, so did Leo. He didn’t even have to see it.

Time passed by quickly enough - Gary took photos, even gave Leo coloured contacts so his eyes were a muddy brown. He gave them both a new ID, handing them over to Roy for him to glance over. He had hummed, smiling, holding the ID up and glancing at Leo.

“Oliver,” he hummed, tilting his head. “Ollie. I like it.”

Leo was picking at the clothes Gary had given him to put on, something baggy and warm. He’d fixed a snug hat on his head too, and Roy pocketed both ID’s, clearly not intent on trusting Leo to take his own. When he stepped up to him, he tried not to flinch back.

“You’ll be a good boy this time,” Roy whispered ever so quietly, just for him to hear, the trill of his low voice making his eyes flutter. “Won’t you?”

Leo desperately nodded his head. He didn’t want Roy to hate him. Didn’t want him to violate him and ignore him and drag him around like he used to. He just wanted everything to go back to normal, swept under the confines of his spell, and it was easy for those feelings of attachment to consume him.

“Yes,” he breathed, barely even able to get the words out. Leo hated that his eyes were filling with tears. He’d caused all this trouble, and for what? None of it had mattered. Roy was never going to let him go. Yet, that was something Leo wasn’t entirely upset over. “I’m sorry, Roy. I’m so sorry.”

The mercenary cooed, stroking the soft skin of his cheek. “I was really hurt, you know.”

Leo hadn’t wanted that. He loved Roy — no, loves him. He never wanted the cold shoulder treatment again, lest it break his heart further than it already had.

“I love you,” Leo sniffled, melting into his embrace when the mercenary finally wrapped his arms around him, tucking him against his body. He slotted in so perfectly. “It was all my fault. I’m so sorry, I’m so...”

Leo’s trembling words were cut off with a kiss to his temple. He practically keened.

“No more groveling. We have a plane to catch soon.”

The mercenary’s thumb gently rubbed along the bottom of his lip, as if he was remembering what he’d forced Leo to do in the home he’d left behind. He briefly wondered if he regretted it.

Still, Leo nodded.

Roy’s eyes crinkled. “Good boy.”

[sttoru]

𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

⟣ sypnosis. you’re fed up with your rich abusive husband and finally decide to hire a skilled assassin to get rid of him in secrecy. one night when you’re left alone in your penthouse, you invite the assassin named toji over to give him the money he’s demanded to accept the job. things turn for the worse when your husband comes home early that day and catches toji and you together.

⟣ note. eeek. never thought i’d be here to write this out but i did and it turned pretty detailed if i must say. hope u all enjoy and appreciate my hard work. feedback / comments are greatly appreciated ! if the fic does well, i can make an alternative ending that’s smutty :3 wc: 7.4k

⟣ tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. angst, comfort. themes include abuse. reader is in an abusive + toxic relationship with her husband. implied age gap with husband. implied size difference with toji. mentions of guns + blood + m.urder. knifes.

“what is a successful marriage?”

that is one of the many questions that keep you up at night. you’ve laid awake for hours on end ever since you’ve married your husband, in search for reasonable answers. you’ve got many of them sorted out, however that specific question is one left unanswered.

it is very subjective—many can vary about the concrete answer. but one thing you know for sure is that your marriage is the exact opposite of what ‘successful’ means.

you were so full of yourself. you didn’t realise that your pride would also be your downfall one day; you’d constantly brag about having a rich husband who gets you everything you wanted. you were too blinded by love—or actually—by his money to notice the real him. the real, twisted and manipulative face of the man you were determined to marry.

his name was daisuke. from the yamamoto family. a family known in japan for its generational wealth and the many buildings and famous corporations it owns. you’ve worked at one of those companies and had met daisuke whilst he was on a visit. you’ve heard about his image by the public; sweet, caring and apparently wouldn’t hurt a fly.

unfortunately, the true him matched none of those descriptions. the true him only you—his wife—came face to face with at your shared home. you remember when it started. when daisuke began to turn into a nasty, abusive man whose anger is never restrainable.

your dating years were nothing but a dream. or, maybe you were too gullible to notice the signs and red flags your then boyfriend was showing. his love bombing, the manipulation, the gaslighting—you didn’t know better. if you complained about a minor thing that he had done, daisuke would apologise by sending you lots of money and presents. toxic, isn’t it?

but you didn’t care. you were happy and content with that being your compensation. the money was the evildoer that made you lose all your morals. the teenage you who said that you’ll never put up with a man’s disrespect was long forgotten.

even now, 4 years later, you put up with his verbal and physical abuse just to continue staying in that big mansion you live in. to continue getting everything paid for you. to continue getting lots of money by doing nothing but be his wife—his trophy wife, at this point.

it’s an easy life; ‘all i have to do is get through his abuse and it’ll be just fine’, you tell yourself that every night. it’s the only thing keeping you sane—a coping mechanism of some kind.

however lately, daisuke’s never skipped a day without being abusive towards you. he’d enter your home yelling and shouting, complains about the tiniest speck of dust in the house (which is not even your fault, it’s the maids’), reminds you how worthless you are in his eyes and the list goes on. he sometimes gets physical and throws stuff at you, causing multiple bruises and cuts to appear on your body after he’s done having his daily tantrum.

he might even kill you one day. it’s scary to think about; if he would, he easily could. he could one day just decide to be done with you and stick a knife in your body, leave you to bleed out and then order one of his men to get rid of your corpse. just like his family does to whoever stands in their way of success. you don’t want to discover how many people your husband has killed.

daisuke can easily get away with murder after all—the law is nothing but a thing to exist to keep the common citizens in the government’s control. to the rich, it’s like those rules don’t exist. court? justice? the so called independent judge? nothing money can’t buy. after all, money is power. money is innocence.

after four years of sticking with that rich man, you were getting tired. you were staying with him for his wealth, but was it actually worth it? besides, if daisuke hates you so much, why wouldn’t he divorce you instead? you don’t have anything going for you. except for your looks and youth, probably. that’s the main reason why daisuke coaxed you into marrying him—to show you off during events or parties. a complete and utter trophy wife you are.

you’ve been going to sketchy bars lately to let off some steam. you weren’t even there to drink alcohol. the sole reason for attending pubs was to forget about your own situation. you’d get weird stares since you’re always alone, sitting in that one spot in the far corner, no one wanting to come up to you because of that gloomy aura you’re emitting. and because you’re always dressed modestly from head to toe—not an ounce of skin showing. it was all the opposite of what most people would normally look and act like in bars.

‘what is normal?’ also a subjective question. society has turned it into an objective one, however.

“good day, miss.” a deep voice had interrupted your thoughts one day whilst you were doing your usual routine; sit near the bar counter, get a non-alcoholic drink, stare at the table for hours and question your purpose in life before going home to the reason of your problems.

a man, probably in his late 30’s or early 40’s, sat next to you on an available stool. he nonchalantly ordered a drink before making small talk. it was a nice change of pace for some reason. you had asked him his name. it was shiu.

that stranger had kept you company for hours until a call from your husband made you snap back to reality; you had to be home as soon as possible. judging by daisuke’s tone, you were in big trouble.

you remember how shiu outed his concern for your well-being by pointing out the bruises on your arm which you didn’t even know were showing.

you dismissed his worries with a fake smile and told him it was nothing, quickly pulling your sleeve back down. shiu seemed to let the topic go, but before parting ways with you, he handed you his business card. you didn’t know what it was for—what kind of services he could offer;

“call that number if you need someone to get rid of your problems,” was all you got before the mysterious man walked away. you couldn’t shake off the emphasis on the word ‘rid’. it sent a shiver down your spine.

that sentence of shiu’s echoed in your ears as tears streamed down your cheek after you arrived home. you were in your personal bathroom, hands shaking as you put a bag of ice on your fresh bruise, the small red and blue-ish area stinging. once again—you couldn’t avoid your husband’s wrath.

after having slept for a mere two hours that day in your bathtub, you’ve awoken to an empty house. daisuke was gone for work. luckily for you.

you hastily grabbed the business card in your purse and dialled the number. staring at the card, you’d think it was some kind of house cleaning service. that’s the kind of vibe it gave. little did you know that it was far from that.

a few rings later and you heard the same familiar deep voice in your ear; “good morning. with shiu kong.”

your heart was beating in your throat as you couldn’t gather the right words to say. maybe it was due to the little voice in the back of your head that warned you for something—you couldn’t pinpoint what the specific cause was just yet.

you answered eventually, “hi. uhm, you said i could call this number if i needed someone to get rid of my problems.” you pause and inhale deeply, “wh-what if my problem was.. a person? would you…” your voice trailed off, but the implication could not be missed by anyone if they heard the tone you used.

shiu seemed to recognise your voice, though stayed silent for a second or two at your request. when he replied, it sounded like he had expected you to ask him this—like he’s heard this many times before; “certainly.”

that’s when you realised what you’ve gotten yourself involved with. you were sweating and you had trouble breathing as you realised that.. this was your chance. to get rid of that man called your husband. your abuser.

you had decided to take on that opportunity and that’s how you ended up getting a phone call from an anonymous number right after your talk with shiu. the agent hadn’t told you anything other than the name of the person who’d contact you; ‘toji’, and said that he’d help you further.

you stared at the ‘no caller ID’ on your screen. this was him: the person who’d help you get rid of your problem. you gulped before sliding your thumb across your mobile to answer the call.

“hi, good m—”

“location.”

the husky male voice cut through your introduction and got straight to the point. your lips were parted to answer the man whom you guessed was ‘toji’, but your breath got caught in your throat for a second. do you just randomly give your address to a stranger? was that okay to do? you didn’t know—no, you didn’t care. if you got killed in the process or something similar, that’d be way better than to live another day in hell with your husband.

you dropped your address after some hesitation and toji just added a quick, ‘be there in an hour or so,’ before hanging up on you.

fast forward to 50 minutes later and you were pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to breathe properly and not have a second panic attack. daisuke wouldn’t be home until noon, so at least he won’t see whoever will enter your mansion in a few minutes. and if there’s a possibility that you get killed by this stranger, you’re sure that your husband would be more than happy that the job was done for him.

a loud tune. the sound of your doorbell. normally, you’d find the short melody relaxing, but now it sounded like something out of a nightmare. you made your way to your intercom and looked at the small screen—seeing a tall black-haired man with a compressed shirt and beige baggy pants standing near the gates. that must be toji—the man you talked to an hour ago.

he must be confident in his abilities since he didn’t cover up his identity at all when coming all the way over here.

you press a button and the gates open with a buzz. toji disappears from the little screen as he enters your front yard. the screen fades to black and you’re left alone with a sense of dread in your stomach. that only lasted for a couple seconds since the doorbell of your front door goes off.

“c-coming!” your voice cracks. you make your way over to the entrance of your home and breathe in. you open the doors slightly, peeking through the gap at the tall, intimidating man standing before you.

toji was kicking a rock to the side whilst waiting and looked up when you opened the doors. he seemed laidback, as if this was nothing but child’s play to him, “took ya long enough.”

you were appalled as toji simply barged into your home like he owned it. his strong, masculine cologne wafted through the air as he passed you by without giving you a second to process his intrusion.

your shaky eyes followed his bulky figure—the muscles that bulged through his shirt, which tensed every now and then. his aura was no joke either; it was horrifying to someone whom didn’t even know who he was or what he exactly did for a living.

“phewww,” the dark-haired man let out a low whistle as his eyes scanned the interior of the entrance hall, shamelessly touching a few expensive looking decorations, inspecting the material, “pretty damn rich, ain’t ya? this y’r daddy’s money?”

you shake your head and close the door behind you, staying there in case you needed to run. you are still wary of this situation, even when you had been the one that started this all.

“h-husband’s.” your voice was a quiet whisper. toji raised an eyebrow and turned his attention towards you. his eyes scanned you from head to toe. you looked pretty young. a fragile little thing, is how he described you in his head.

“husband? you?” toji chuckles dryly, before stepping closer to you, his body towering over yours. he lowers his head and stares at you from up close, his hands in his pockets whilst wordlessly looking at you.

you swallowed a bit of saliva and glanced back at the big man whom belittled you twice in just a couple seconds. you fumbled with the sleeve of your hoodie as the silence grew deafening—the only sound being your own soft yet shallow breathing.

your fingers scratched at the bruises under the fabric of your clothes, causing the cloth to slightly crinkle and glide up a few centrimeters with each rub before coming back down once your fingers stop. the instant you start touching those bruises, the itching just wouldn’t stop.

toji noticed this and looked down at your arm. his eyes caught a small glimpse of a wound on your wrist, but he didn’t seem to comment on it. with a sniff, he straightened his back and cocked his head to the right—face cold again as he glared at you;

“do ya know what kinda stuff i do?” his voice was booming, the deepness to it making you shiver. you press your lips together and search for answer, only to find nothing;

“n-no, i mean—“ your itching increases the more nervous you felt, “th-the man who directed me to you said you’d explain things further. all i know is that you can get rid of uhm— a problem of mine.”

toji scoffs and mutters something incomprehensible under his breath about his ‘stupid agent letting him do all the work’ before turning around. he lazily walks ahead as if he had all the time he needed in the world. once arrived in your living room, the man plops down on your couch, spreads his legs and leans back against the cushions. he really acted like he owns this place.

“i’m not the type to beat around the bush, little lady,” toji starts whilst his eyes follow you as you nervously sat on the chair next to the sofa, “so i’m gonna get straight into it. and if ya back down after this or get too scared ‘n call the cops, unfortunately, y’r pretty ass gotta go.”

toji swipes a thumb across his neck to indicate what that latter meant; killed. you’re gonna get killed if you learn his real identity and decide to expose it to anyone, especially the police. you blinked your tears away whilst thinking of that possibility and shook your head, putting on a determined face. you need to take responsibilities for your actions. you were the one who started this.

“all right. i promise that i won’t back down.” you reply after getting yourself together. toji’s eyes had left yours for a second to look around the grand living room—as if inspecting for something—before settling back on you. he quickly exhales through his nose; leaning his head on his hand while his piercing gaze burned holes in your skin,

“i’m an assassin.” toji says in a bored tone. he’s done this little introduction to his job so many times before to clients who hire him in for the first time, “i kill people in exchange for money. so, ya basically hired me to get rid of someone ‘nd i’m here to collect the money and information i need to finish the job. got that?”

there it was. the confirmation you needed and got without an ounce of hesitation coming from the man in front of you. you had expected this outcome (from the many you created in your head), of course, thus you weren’t that surprised. yet the fact that you actually have a hitman in your house, someone who can easily kill your husband, still makes you nervous.

“yes, thank you.” you eventually replied and nodded, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. you looked up at toji and this time it wasn’t in a nervous way. this time it was in a determined way. toji notices this change and the scarred corner of his lip curled into a smirk.

“how much. . . money do you want for this job?” you go straight to the point. the dark-haired man grins whilst scanning your figure up and down shamelessly, enjoying the confident look on you. it suited you better.

“depends. who is it that i gotta kill?” toji asks, using his thumb to crack his index finger. you look around as if anyone could hear you. you were sure that no one was there with you, no maids no bodyguards no husband, yet your anxiety was still at its peak.

“my husband.” you reply quietly and point at the big picture frame on the wall near the chimney. it was a picture of daisuke and you. you seemed happy there, but it was all for show. that photoshoot was simply for his benefit, “daisuke. daisuke yamamoto.”

toji raises his eyebrow and stares at the picture. he’s heard of that name before. it was mentioned many times in the articles he reads. the assassin stands up with a grunt and walks to the chimney, letting out a small hum like he was thinking about it. not about if he could get the job done—no, his pride told him he easily could—but about the amount of money he wanted to get out of this.

there was a silence before toji turns around on his heels and walks over to the couch again, plopping down on the soft cushions whilst propping his feet on the table in front of him, “around seven million yen will do.”

that was about 50.000 dollars.

your jaw slightly dropped. it’s not like you haven’t seen nor heard of such big numbers before, it’s just that it was a little unexpected. but then again; nothing you can’t afford. with your husband’s money. the same money that ruined your life, is going to be used as a weapon to save it.

daisuke’s own money is going to be the death of him. and you’re the one to guarantee that.

“all right. i can get you that in cash.” you nod idly. your mind was clearly somewhere else—trying to remember the password to daisuke’s safe that was situated in a hidden room near his office. you recently found out that he keeps most cash, gold and other valuable pieces there, away from your sight. he was bad at hiding that fact from you, however.

one night, he came home drunk and it ended up with him confessing to you that he ‘won’t ever let a gold digger like you near his money again’ and proceeded to spill that he ‘has a secret safe which you won’t ever get your hands on’. eventually, you did. after a bit of snooping around, you easily found the hidden room behind a bookcase.

those fat stacks of money in there definitely add up to more than seven million yen. you’re sure of it. the only obstacle in your way is gathering that money. most of the time, daisuke locks his office before leaving home—or if he doesn’t—his maids will be in there cleaning.

“it will take me some time, but…” your voice trails off as a pensive look falls on your face. you bite your bottom lip and try to figure out something—a plan. toji catches your attention again by letting out a deep sigh. he dismissively waves your worries away with one hand;

“tha’s fine, lady. i need some time to prepare for this job too—it ain’t an easy one after all.” the assassin comments whilst scratching the scar near his lips, also seemingly deep in thought about his own plan, “bet he got lots of guards on his ass, too. tch.”

there was another thought in the back of toji’s mind that bothered him. normally, he’d be pissed off if his client didn’t prepare any kind of money beforehand. maybe some compensation bills, or at least a little thing he can have before they give him the full amount.

but with you, he seems not to mind. he wouldn’t be mad if he left this place empty handed for the time being. maybe he actually feels pity for your situation. or was it something else?

toji scoffs at his wandering mind and inwardly tells himself to shut up about such dumb stuff. getting his money is what’s most important to him. if you die afterwards, he wouldn’t care.

that’s what he tells himself.

“anyways. you should gimme all ya know about him. y’re his wife, right? ya should know his routine ‘n stuff that i can work with.” toji speaks up after the ten seconds of silence. you nod at his question—he wanted every single piece of information about your husband, so you’ll give him everything. no details excluded.

you pull out your phone and show toji pictures you took from daisuke’s computer in secrecy. pictures of his daily schedule for the upcoming month. your prior intention by taking those was to know when to be back home or when to avoid him, but they could be useful for this as well.

you continue to explain when and where daisuke holds his breaks, where his main office is located, the bodyguards that accompany him every day and when they leave him alone— all the information you gathered.

toji can’t help but be amazed by your memory. and the fact that you can recall everything, small or big, about your husband. it certainly did make his job easier; now he doesn’t have to pry out more hints on daisuke himself.

of course, you had your reasons for knowing all the miniscule facts about daisuke. it’s how you managed to survive those four years of marriage.

“good. tha’s enough.” toji nods and stands up with a grunt, stretching his arms—the muscles retracting. you couldn’t help but stare at them; he must have gone through a lot of training to become an assassin. a skilled one at that.

“before i go,” toji continues as he walks past you without looking back, heading straight for the exit of the living room, “you should delete all cctv footage that ya got going on ‘round here. i’ll take care of further evidence, yeah?”

toji moves his index finger in a circle, pointing at all corners in the house. he doesn’t want to risk anything, “i’ll call ya once i get things sorted out. then i’ll get to work when ya hand me the money.”

you nod and make a mental note for yourself to do that immediately once toji’s gone. you still had an hour or two before your husband would return. you don’t think he checks the cctv footage often (otherwise he’d have caught you sneaking into his office before), but it’ll be a big problem if he actually does and sees a random man in his home.

“will do. thank you.” you reply to toji and get up to politely see him out of your house. that’s when the realisation kicked in; your husband will be killed by this man right here in front of you. goosebumps appeared on your skin—not from fright. but from… happiness?

this stranger will end years of torment for you. yes, it’s his job. he’ll probably disappear after he’s got the money and completed your request, and yet, you can’t help but be extremely thankful.

without thinking, you reach out and grab onto toji’s wrist to stop him from moving. the assassin doesn’t stiff or tense up by this sudden touch. in fact, he’s already sensed it coming and allowed it.

toji’s actually more surprised by the fact that his mind and body allowed you to touch him. if it were anyone else, he’d probably have avoided their touch, broken their hand or worse—cut it off.

he moves his head to the side and looks at you from his peripherals, though not fully turning to you yet. he doesn’t speak up either; he’s waiting on you to go first.

your heart was somehow starting to beat even faster. you bit your lip and mentally cursed yourself out for pulling such an action; you could’ve just waited to show your gratitude through the phone.

well, either way, there was no going back now so you might as well spill your words of gratitude right this moment. you took a deep breath and parted your lips, ready to talk, but was then interrupted by your biggest nightmare.

a familiar, chilling voice. your heart drops. your body freezes.

“i knew it.”

a looming figure stood near the entrace to the living room. you recognised him instantly, as did your body, which went into an almost paralysed state. your mouth went dry, your hands started shaking and your eyes widened to the point you weren’t blinking anymore.

your husband, daisuke, appeared out of thin air in front of toji and you. his gaze was solely focused on the way your fingers were curled around toji’s wrist. to top it off, he had only heard the last bits of your conversation: something about deleting cctv and money. his brain hadn’t heard the entirety of it—he had already taken wrong conclusions in his head.

daisuke’s veins were on the verge of popping as he took two big steps towards you—you taking two steps back in response.

“i knew you were cheating on me, you fuckin’ slut.” daisuke spits with his finger pointed right at you. he was ignoring toji’s presence for the time being. he had to deal with you first;

“i work my ass off all day and night to provide for you and this is how you repay me? by inviting a random dude over whilst i’m gone? ungrateful bitch.”

two insults in a row; one more and daisuke’s putting his hands on you. it always went like that. your mind felt like it was emptied, but you somehow felt relieved that your husband didn’t seem to know the real reason of why toji had come over. daisuke really thought you were just cheating on him, and that your words of ‘deleting all cctv footage’ was to hide that infidelity.

“it’s n-not.. like that, daisuke.” you try to soothe the raging man in front of you, but your attempts were futile. he was just three quick steps away from resorting to physical violence.

toji, in the meantime, had stepped off to the side. you were only his client, thus there was no need to interrupt a couple’s ‘dispute’. you weren’t anyone dear or special to him—just a client. a stranger that owes him money to perform a job.

the assassin leans against a nearby wall, crossing his arms over his chest whilst watching the scene unfold. it was unfortunate that toji’s target was right there in front of him; he could just kill him right now. get the job done and over with. but, once again, toji only got to work if he had the money. he only assassinates when his skills are paid for. not any earlier and not any later. those were his morals—the rules he lives by.

if toji wanted to, he could simply walk away and let you handle this stuff by yourself. daisuke accusing him of being your ‘thing on the side’ didn’t bother him. as long as your husband doesn’t know his real identity, he’s fine with whatever accusations that get thrown at him.

but, for some reason—the same reason from earlier—his body was yelling at him to stay. toji sighs; he knows he won’t ever win a battle against his heart’s needs. he decides to stay.

daisuke still doesn’t seem to care about this; all the man wants is to out his anger and accuse you of things he now has enough ‘evidence’ for. he was seething and fuming at this revelation.

“god knows what else you’ve done behind my back. i bet he isn’t the only one you’ve fucke—“

“stop! i’m not cheating,” you finally yell back. it was the first time in a while that you had gathered the strength to do so. it felt good now that you had stuck up for yourself, but you knew how this would end for you—probably on the floor. crying.

despite all of that, you decided to keep on going. it’s now or never: all you have to do is make up a lie, probably withstand daisuke’s anger again and hope it doesn’t kill you. just this once; all you have to do is survive this once and then you’ll be freed from him.

you’ll give toji his money and he will do the job for you. just a few more days—

“he’s.. he’s my friend’s husband. i invited them both over and he just arrived earlier than expected.” you quickly made up. it sounded a little convincing to you. toji’s low snicker of amusement in the back confirmed that it maybe was the opposite of convincing.

daisuke scoffs at the pathetic attempt of hiding your ‘infidelity’. with another step forward, he raises his voice a notch; “yeah, right! what a pathetic excuse.”

a second step—you were waiting on that third curse. that third swear word that would set hell loose in this house, “do you really think you can fool me with that? huh?!”

it hadn’t happened yet. you still had time to think of a plan to perhaps escape this situation. your eyes flickered over to toji, although it didn’t seem like he’d be of any help. of course, he’s just an outsider after all. a stranger whom you just met today.

assassins have already disregarded their heart emotions the moment they decided to go down the path of killing for a living. you wouldn’t even blame toji for not stepping in. you’re also but a stranger to him.

toji could see the glimmer of hope in your eyes when you looked at him. or maybe it was a call for help. a desperate look. he can’t tell the difference. though, what he can tell, is that there was a gnawing feeling in the pits of his stomach. a gut feeling that told him it’d be smart to interfere.

but there’s his rational thoughts that tell him to not get involved—to avoid any more trouble than needed. besides, what other benefits would it bring him if he did? toji doesn’t want to be seen as a hero or saviour by anyone.

his jaw clenches as the time ticks. only a couple seconds left before the cold-hearted assassin has to make a decision.

daisuke’s patience was running low. the tension was increasing and could burst at any given moment now. one wrong move and you’re done—

one wrong breath could result in the worst possible outcome.

your silence spoke volumes to daisuke. the way you held your head low, your eyes that flickered from the floor to the ceiling, your fingers that nervously fumbled with your clothes and your bottom lip that trembled unstoppably. that pissed him off.

everything about you pissed him off. daisuke didn’t see any benefits of having you around anymore. he hadn’t for the long time, however didn’t know how he’d get rid of you.

divorce? no, he’ll have to give some of his earnings to you. kick you out? a possibility, but that would ruin his reputation. blackmail? that option was now the best choice. he’s caught you with another man after all. with camera evidence.

but, daisuke wouldn’t be satisfied with that outcome. his rage was blinding him—more than usual. he has to make you learn your lesson. in a way that will have you begging for your life to be spared.

and thus, the last step was made. the deciding hands were raised—aimed for your neck. the final curse had left his lips;

“come here. i’ll show you how whores like you should be treated.”

killing intent. it was the first time you’ve seen daisuke’s gaze darken that much, his demeanour emotionless yet full of rage. you close your eyes and expect for the worse.

“tha’s enough.”

everything went blank to you. it was silent, your vision was black, your hands were above your head, your heart felt like it wasn’t beating anymore—had you met your end? had you already been murdered?

in that same instant, you could feel drops of liquid splatter on your face. a faint ringing sound in your ears—it sounded like fireworks had been set off. a loud ‘pop’ sound.

something hit the ground right after. it wasn’t your body since that someone or something landed right at your feet.

after that: utter silence.

you gathered all your strength once more and slowly opened your eyelids. your vision was a bit blurry, though the first shape you could make out was one of a man on the ground. and not just any man—it was the man whom you hated most. at your feet.

you would’ve never thought of seeing that image before. of your husband laying at your feet; both literally and figuratively. a red liquid gushed out of his head and soaked into your shoes.

a normal wife would’ve let out a blood hurling scream at the sight of her lover laying lifelessly near her. a normal wife with a healthy relationship, that is.

you did let out a scream at the sight of your husband laying lifelessly near your feet. but that wasn’t done out of panic for your husband’s life—or due to the pain you were in to see him dead.

it was purely because you hadn’t seen a corpse before.

“d-daisuke..?”

a normal wife would’ve called out her husband’s name in a futile attempt that he’d answer back. that all of it was a dream. that her beloved wasn’t dead.

your reason wasn’t anything close to that. you called out that name in hopes he wouldn’t answer back. that all of it wasn’t a dream. that your abuser was dead.

it was real. you were glad, yet extremely disturbed by the fact that there was a corpse at your feet. you didn’t want to see all of it happening—that wasn’t part of the plan.

you stumble back a bit, hands clutching onto the chair you bumped into as you did your best to avoid the gruesome scene before your eyes. you just wished someone would clean the mess as soon as possible.

it’s then that your gaze fell on the other person present in the room; the man who was standing with a gun in his hand. toji scratched his head with the barrel, cold eyes looking down at the corpse with a faintly visible disgusted expression.

the assassin clicks his tongue as he walks towards the lifeless body and puts the sole of his shoe on daisuke’s cheek as if he was stepping on a pile of dirt, moving the head back and forth to check for any possible ounce of life in there.

there was none. the soul had left its body almost instantly after that bullet went through his brain. toji sighs; this time at himself for acting irrationally, “should’ve tortured you to death for tryin’ to put y’r hands on that lady instead of givin’ you the easy way out.”

with a harsh kick to the head on the floor, toji gathers some of his saliva on his tongue before spitting on the man. doubling the disrespect; “consider yourself lucky.”

toji cocked his head to the right. that’s where he spotted you with a familiar look on your face. the expression of someone who just went through a traumatic experience. he’s seen many people react like you when facing a near death experience or when witnessing somebody die before them.

usually, he’d tell them ‘it’s normal, get used to it’ and leave it at that. this was different. it felt different with you.

“are you okay?” the words slipped out of toji’s mouth before he could hold them back. his tone was a mixture of genuine concern and confusion. the latter was due to his own state of mind at the moment.

you didn’t answer, but you put your hands on your mouth as if you were going to puke any moment now. your vision was getting blurry with tears, head spinning and body feeling numb and weird.

toji hesitates before stepping towards you. his hands reached out to hold you, though he stopped them. he’d figured you wouldn’t be comfortable with him touching you in any way or form. he just killed someone in front of you—

it’s not like you cared that it was your husband. that much was clear. you sniff and glance up at toji with such a relieved yet devastated expression that his arms instinctively wrapped around you and pulled you into his warm embrace.

it was an awkward hug since toji doesn’t really know the basics of comforting someone. he was a bit stiff, but you didn’t show any discomfort due to that fact. instead, you clung onto his body and left tear stains on his black shirt.

“shhh, shh. it’s fine. it’s okay.” toji whispers, whilst his big hands indecisively move around, trying to find a spot to rest on. one eventually lands on the back of your head whilst the other starts to slowly rub up and down your spine, “it’s over, yeah? all of it—it’s over.”

toji doesn’t have a clue about the exact details of what your life was like. why you asked him to kill your (now ex-)husband was none of his business. all he knew was that he was going to get paid for it, so he didn’t care what the reason was.

it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the scars and bruises on your body throughout your conversation either—but that as well—was none of his business. assassins do their job without any further questions. there was no need to have personal connections or relations with their clients.

yet, toji was going against those unspoken rules once more. all because of you. for you.

“thank y—you.” your voice was weak as you speak up. it sounded hoarse and tired, though the sense of gratitude was undeniably there, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

a series of ‘thank you’s’ leave your lips whilst your body and mind were still trying to recover from the whole ordeal. toji was trying his best to keep by your side until you calmed down. that’s the least he could do—after the fact that he singlehandedly got rid of the main problem in your life.

“no need to thank me, lady.” the dark-haired man whispers, allowing you to mess up his shirt with your tears and tugs, “i did what i had to do.”

toji didn’t actually have to do what he did. he never does his job before he’s guaranteed the money. however this time, it was a different story. he did it without thinking. he had to. his body was telling him to move—and in a flash—it was done.

he tries to tell himself that it’s just him slacking off. that he isn’t possibly starting to care about another person. he shouldn’t; those complicated emotions would stand in his way. and yet. . .

“c’mere.”

toji lifts you up bridal style while you keep quivering against his shoulder. his hands had a tight grip on your body, his eyes a sharp gaze on the mess he created. with a sigh, he takes you upstairs to a random room—kicking the door open.

toji carefully puts you back on your feet and guides you to sit on the edge of the kingsized bed. he absentmindedly brushes a few strands of your hair back after wiping some more tears away from your face;

“i know it’s a lot to take in,” toji kneels down before you, looking up with an unreadable expression whilst wiping the tears from your cheeks. his warm palms make contact with your skin and it’s like you’ve forgotten all about what just happened, “but is it okay if ya stay here while i go take care of the rest? i’ll come back once i’m done.”

toji has his own ways of cleaning up after he’s done a job and most likely wants to put one of those techniques to use before any maid or guard comes to check in on the house situation. you sniffle and hiccup afterwards, trying to form a verbal response through your broken sobs, but to no avail.

you simply nod and lean into toji’s calloused hands—such rough and masculine hands—ones that were meant to protect instead of hurt you. you weren’t able to trust men after your marriage, however this one in front of you was unlike any other. even if he may not seem like it on the outside.

his touch was gentle yet firm. the pads of his thumbs swiped the wet skin under your lower eyelashes and you could’ve sworn toji’s gaze had softened for a split second before he caught himself.

he had to stand up, get rid of the mess and leave the place before he got too attached to you. the assassin cannot make such a grave mistake.

“i promise,” toji speaks up after a bit again, standing up after giving you a soft pat against your shoulder, “you’re fine. i’ll be back—ya have my word.”

there he goes; making promises he knows he probably can’t keep. ‘i’ll be back’, will he? he can’t. for your own safety. he has to treat you as just another client. none of what he did in this house could be spoken of anymore.

he slipped up this once. it needn’t to happen again. money. he does his jobs for money—when he obtains the money. he doesn’t kill his targets for the sake of others, for the protection of others.

he doesn’t kill for love.

toji wishes that all of this had never happened, because he knows that his heart will lead him back to you at the end of the day. he knows he won’t leave once he cleans up the mess downstairs. he’ll come right back to you.

and you have faith in that. you trust this stranger whom had practically saved your life with just one shot.

“i don’t know how to repay you.. thank you.” you manage to mutter through shallow breaths. you stare at the back of toji’s head as he makes his way to the door. he stops in his tracks to reply to your comment.

he stands still at the doorway and looks over his shoulder at you—the scarred corner of his lips twitching;

“prepare the money. tha’s how you can repay me.” toji replies and you don’t know if he’s joking or being serious because of that little grin on his face. a breathy chuckle follows and then the assassin disappears.

the door closes and you’re left alone in this space. left alone in the silence of the home that had treated you as its prisoner. you remember how your husband used to lock you up in your bedroom whenever you had done something to piss him off; taking away your freedom by keeping you in a room.

now it’s yours—your life is yours. you’ve fully gained your freedom back and can decide what to do for yourself. it seems like a foreign situation, a foreign world, a foreign concept; you can now actually do whatever your heart desires. without any restraints.

“what is a successful marriage?”

well, to you, it’s one with a satisfactory ending.

🏷️ : @satoruhour @squicksquak @omgeto @xmintpie @cursingtoji @obsidiannero @elmoees @x1aosg1rl @fushironi @ceceher @ajax1230 @toji-is-hot @jayugh @rinshoe @sligerate @satoryaa @luveblad3 @happystrawberrytyrant @ezraiix

[silviakundera]

Kinnporsche Fanfic Recs

In celebration of the 2 year anniversary, here is an avalanche of Kinn/Porsche fics that I've enjoyed. Painfully incomplete & posted in no particular order. My shipping interests are 100% focused on the K/P couple and that will be reflected in my list, sorry 😘.

Deep Like a Coastal Shelf by Lilla_Torg

(79,000 words) Green Arrow inspired AU. "After five years abroad, Kinn Theerapanyakul returns to find his city under siege by a vigilante known as the Phoenix."

Stain of Sun by Lilla_Torg

(78,000 words) Omega brothers Porsche (hacker) and Chay (grifter) team up to take down the Theerapanyakul crime family. Things do not go as planned. // This marries A/B/O with mutant powers. As long as you're not wholly opposed to Omegaverse, give it a chance. Every one of this author's long KPtS fics is a banger.

Pouring Down Crimson Fire by Lilla_Torg

(119,000 words) Sort of a mutant AU but honestly that underplays how fucking cool this fic is. “I think you know something about keeping secrets,” said Kinn. He flashed Porsche a pocket-ace smirk. “You’re mine. Say it.”

The boy he’d been fourteen years ago would have told him where to shove it. But Porsche had been around long enough to know that the mafia always won. Still, he looked around, searching for a way out, before giving up and turning back to Kinn, those black eyes awaiting his surrender.

“I’m yours,” he said.

a perpetual unscattering by concernedlily

(31,000 words) Canon-divergence AU. “Pissing in bottles behind a cocktail bar,” Kinn said. “But Pa gave him to me, so I’m stuck with him.” To a visibly furious Porsche he said, “You don’t know the minor family? Never come across any of them before?”

“How would I know the fucking minor family?” Porsche snapped.

what a tangled web we weave by fortunehasgivenup

(80,000 words) 1000 Nights inspired alternate universe, fantasy-historical Thailand. // After the betrayal of his first husband, King Anakinn Theerapanyakul vows to never love again. Once a week, he takes a new husband, a young man who will not live to see another dawn.

When a nobleman comes to find a young man to adopt and marry off to the king in place of his own son, Thee chooses Chay.

Faced with an outcome that he refuses to contemplate, Porsche steps in and takes Chay's place. He only has one request for the king - to be allowed to tell his brother one last bedtime story.

Burn Your Name Into My Skin by Everyforkedroad

(72,000 words) In which Kinn visits a high-end sex club and he & Porsche meet under the guise of anonymity for what should be a 1 night encounter. Except not only are they intensely drawn together... things are not what they seem.

Salt by ronandhermy

(49,000 words) Sweat stings because the salt is purifying. Porsche may be in high school but he is still a National Champion in Taekwondo and he catches the eye of the national team's newest sponsor: The Theerapanyakun Family. Alternate first meeting. Leans into the darkness of canon, read the tags and proceed w caution.

how do you like it, daddy by Baby_Droll

(28,000 words) "and ain't shit 'bout me cheap and ain't shit 'bout me free" - our lord and savior, florence millicent. kinn & porsche, and all the other pieces on their fucked up chess board. a sugar baby/daddy au with an omegaverse twist. // This is a dark reimagining alternate universe. Iconic toxic K/P fic.

two shots by Martynax

(81,000 words) AU, different first meeting. Porsche joined the armed forces & became a hired gun. // “So I’m supposed to end a mafia dispute?”

“Something like that,” he mutters, wondering if he’s making a mistake, revealing it to Porsche so soon. Nothing is set in stone, after all. But he has a gut feeling that the man appreciates honesty and simplicity much more than intrigue and schemes.

be the best you ever tasted by Martynax

(90,000 words) an AU where Porsche's life is shit so he shakes his perky little bum for strangers at a strip club and Kinn books him for a private show. Porsche doesn't fuck customers and shouldn't get associated with whatever grey business his boss is trying to run out of the club. But... you know how this is gonna go.

between the sheets by DasWarSchonKaputt

(70,000 words) “And who’s that?”

“Oh. That’s Porsche. He’s Khun Kinn’s live-in boytoy. He’s harmless, mostly. Just a pretty face.”

A boyfriend can go so many places a bodyguard can’t. As the threat of a potential leak in their security forces looms large, Khun Korn hatches a plot to place an added layer of protection around his heir presumptive. Enter Porsche, former bartender, current bodyguard, and reluctant fake boyfriend of Kinn Theerapanyakul.

Stumbling to the Edge by FireRisingOverTheHills

(51,000 words) Of the genre of KP fics where Kinn and Porsche meet-cute in a random bar encounter, instead of a meet-ugly, this one is my fav. I just really enjoy the Kinn PoV with his what?! is?! happening??? vibes as he finds himself irresistibly drawn to someone who doesn't fit neatly into defined roles.

"He makes this all seem like it’s perfectly normal and Kinn is helpless to do anything but go along with it."

Whatever Else that Touches You by technicallyverycowboy

(9,330 words) Tender established relationship and bisexual self discovery, post canon. // "No, it's fine." Porsche shifts to be a little less plastered against Kinn's side, straightens his shoulders and smooths out his jacket with great dignity. "The answer to your question is yes, I have really never been with any other men."  Porsche answers questions, asks some of his own, tries new things, and fills in the knowledge gaps of his own sexuality.

An Elegant Mechanism by Laughsalot3412

(87,000 words) A/B/O AU, Kim centric with some background K/P and dysfunctional brothers & cousin bonding. The only fic on this list that isn't K/P primary. //  "Kim was only an omega when he was luring people closer to his gun. No one had to give Kim a weapon. He was one.  (Kim's mission is to get close to Porchay Kittisawat. Chay is not a typical alpha. Kim is not a typical omega. Kim isn't having feelings and Chay is going to be so normal about all of this.)"

Love and Violence by thewayside

(9,500 words) Beautifully written, post ep 14. // "Love and violence have always been bedfellows for Kinn. Down to how his first proper relationship ended in a pool of blood. Porsche’s beauty might have drawn him in, but he knows in his gut that he met someone in kind that first night, blood coursing through their veins as the fight ended and Porsche led him onto a bike to a road he barely knew."

Burnished night, blood-soaked stars by The_Old_Astronomer

(13,000 words) Missing scene set between the end of episode 6 and the side story (pre-ep 7). Porsche fights to keep Kinn alive after the attack, and gradually realises how much the other man means to him.

Night Call by vesna (mrsronweasley)

(34,500 words) "On Kinn's birthday, Kinn is dragged by Tae and Time to a strip club, where he gets a private dance from a man who calls himself Jom. Kinn is smitten. Things spin out from there." Canon AU, where Porsche became a stripper because bartending wasn't paying enough.

NFWMB by vesna (mrsronweasley)

(18,700 words) There's a rushing in Kinn's ears, a noise he can't shake. It almost makes him miss the next thing Arm tells him. "He was supposed to check in, as per protocol, but—"  "But what," Kinn snaps. A headache is building behind one of his eyes.  Arm's eyes are wide right before he lowers them and says, "He hasn't been heard from in two and a half hours."  Or, post-canon Porsche is kidnapped. Kinn goes through it.

Caught Off Guard by Altered_Ego

(23,000 words) The one where Porsche is one of his escort's bodyguard. Alternate first meeting; Porsche took another path to support his brother.

the less i know the better by mslunita

(45,000 words) Bored Kinn joins Tinder in hopes of getting his rocks off with a different kind of guy, instead of the standard escorts. Porsche challenges him in just the right way. // Alternate first meeting. Basically their canon selves, but this is after Porsche has already had his bi awakening.

XXX curious STRAIGHT boy BEGS for COCK for the FIRST TIME XXX by mirrorofprinces

(35,000 words ) Porn industry AU. “Porsche is extremely close to signing. In fact, he has a final meeting with the execs on Monday morning. The only condition is that he wants to request his first partner, and it’s you.”  Kinn takes a long drink of his whiskey, sets the glass down, and runs his tongue over his teeth. “So you had to meet with me, urgently, to tell me that a beautiful boy wants me to fuck him, thinking I’d say no.” He drums his fingers on the bartop. “Which means there’s a catch.”

paint my kiss across your chest (your touch is like a happy pill) by darkknight

(16,000 words) Episode 8 era. "Porsche discovers different new ways of how good sex can feel, ways that would never even have crossed his mind before meeting Kinn."

quis custodiet ipsos custode by concernedlily

(8,600 words) Porsche being on dangerous missions and Kinn discovering he has Feelings About That. Missing scenes and Post Ep 14.

Wing of a Butterfly by Kalere

(320,000 words) Some years before the canon storyline, two young men have a random encounter at a bar. Their friendship changes everything. // The epic Porsche & Vegas friendship fic.

[ptn-imagines]

Hello! I've been looking around the PTN blogs and didn't found that much work about us being a sinner, i would love to see Langley in a relationship with a mad guard dog sinner reader

I see we as a society have progressed from wanting to kiss Rahu to wanting to be Rahu. I completely get that though.

Hope you enjoy, anon! Warnings for violence and some minor coercion (NOT in regards to the relationship) beneath the cut.

Langley in a relationship with a “mad guard dog” Sinner!Reader

Honestly, Langley is not the sort of person who needs a bodyguard, Paradeisian or not, so one couldn’t help but wonder just what she was playing at by hiring you. Perhaps it had something to do with her enmity with the Hush, seeing as Shalom had acquired a bodyguard for herself? Whatever, you weren’t paid to speculate.

The first time you met Langley was shortly after you were detained by the MBCC. You were an S-Rank Endura Sinner, kept under high security as you had caused a massive incident and been incompliant during interrogation. Even the shackles weren’t enough to keep you in line – or rather, the Chief simply refused to deny even you your autonomy if they could help it. What a sentimental fool.

When you first laid eyes on Langley, you felt a plethora of mixed emotions. Disgust and rage, because this woman was the director of the 9th Agency, Paradeisos’s intelligence organization, and you had no reason to believe she was any different to the rest of those scum. Fascination and curiosity, because… this woman was a Sinner.

Eventually the rage won out. Who cares that she was a Sinner? She’s Paradeisian, a gear in the machine that grinds people like you into dust. The only thing that stopped you from trying to attack her were your heavy restraints, applied after the incident in the interrogation room.

Given how you’d treated her, the last thing you expected was to be unchained the very next day. But that’s how things turned out; you couldn’t even fully process the series of events as you were being herded into a 9th Agency car and shipped off to a Paradeisos mansion.

The mansion was large and ornate, and your room was comfortable. You were allowed to even roam in the gardens, though guards were posted to prevent you from leaving the property.

You hated it. Who did that bitch think she was? You weren’t some fucking dog or pet. Mania exacerbated your fury, and you ended up breaking many things inside Langley’s mansion. A sense of vindictive satisfaction washed over you as you observed the mess you had made; surely this would make that bitch realize the mistake she’d made. Chained up in an MBCC cell had to be better than being penned in by this ridiculous attempt at playing house.

Much to your dismay, Langley wasn’t upset by your rampage; if anything, she was amused. She seemed to have expected it even, judging by the smirk on her lips as she shook her head and tutted, “My my, I seem to have picked up quite the troublesome little pet.”

Her words boiled your blood. You! Weren’t! A! Pet! When she expressed her intentions to take you in as her bodyguard, you saw red.

When the haze of Mania cleared from your mind, you were pressed face down on the carpeted floor of the room, the cold steel muzzle of what could only be a gun pressed to the back of your head. “I can’t force you to do it,” Langley murmured, voice low and deadly, “since I’m well aware that it’s foolish to have a bodyguard that wishes for my head. I can keep you here for as long as I like. It’s not a good idea to bite the hand that feeds you.”

Though you despised it, you knew she was correct, so over the next few weeks, you worked on taming the rage inside your veins every time you saw her. If she wanted a bodyguard out of you, all you had to do was bide your time until she realized she wasn’t getting one. Sure, you’d be shipped back to the MBCC, but with escape not an option, this was better than the alternative.

Or at least, that was your plan. As time spun on, it became easier and easier to restrain your anger with each passing day, and something new flooded into the void eagerly. No, not something new, something abandoned; that initial spark of curiosity you had felt towards her.

When you realized this, at first you were suspicious, scrutinizing your interactions with Langley for any sign of deception or manipulation. Unfortunately, there were none, unless you counted your first day at the mansion. Which you definitely were, but other than that… Langley had been nothing but surprisingly kind to you.

Damn it all. When had you stopped seeing her as filthy Paradeisian scum, and instead begun to view her as someone you’d be interested in getting to know? It was an unbelievable hit to your dignity.

You half-couldn’t believe it yourself when you approached her hesitantly, mumbling that “fine, alright, I’ll be your bodyguard.” And from the way Langley smiled, you realized she knew it would turn out like this all along.

The thing is, Langley was incredibly competent and hardly had a need for a bodyguard. Most of the time, she’d dispatched any threats before you even knew they were there, and you suspected that the Corruptors or gangsters or assassins or what-have-you that you did get to take out were her gift to you, a way for you to take out the violence and Mania that thrummed beneath your skin. It had to go somewhere, after all, lest you bring yourself to ruination.

Still, this allowed you to be closer to Langley than you had ever been penned up in her mansion. Always a step behind your mistress, silent most of the time – but sometimes, when nobody else was around, Langley would talk to you, about any and everything, asking for your thoughts and feelings on a wide berth of topics. The last time you’d felt as calm and soothed as in these moments was long before you became a Sinner.

After a year or so spent in Langley’s service, however, a moment arose where you truly had to protect Langley. You don’t know what calculation had been incorrect or what clue had been missed – that wasn’t your job – but something had gone wrong. It felt like a chill down your spine, an uncanny feeling of instinct, and you moved before they did, and your world turned red as the white-hot pain of a knife sunk into your abdomen–

You’re not sure how long you spent unconscious, between the bloody madness and the blissful nothing that followed after, but when you next came to awareness you were laid up in your bed. Wondering how you got here, you tried to sit up – only to hiss in pain as your wound flared up. Looking down, you saw your abdomen wrapped in gauze – that’s right, you remembered now. You’d been stabbed by an assassin trying to protect Langley. Where was she? Was she alright?

Before you could begin to fret too much, the door to your bedroom swung open, and there she was. Her hat covered her expression, but you could nevertheless hear the genuine concern in her voice as she called your name. Langley… cared for you? Really? But you knew the spider well enough to know she wouldn’t fake something like this. Plus, it was in line with what you’d seen of her interactions with her subordinates in the 9th Agency.

You’d been asleep for three days, she told you, and yes, she was fine. Your wound would fully recover but the assassin’s blade had been tinged with Mania, so you’d be on bedrest for longer than normal. The assassin themself was dead. You’d made sure of that. Apparently you’d gone into such a fit of Mania that Langley worried she’d have to shoot you for the sake of everyone present – but there had been no need for that, since apparently after the assassin was dealt with, you’d collapsed then and there.

It was around now that you noticed that you were wearing a clean nightgown, not the clothes you’d worn on the day of the attack. There was also a conspicuous lack of blood on your body. You asked about it, and the answer you got caused you to flush red to your ears – she’d taken care of bathing you herself. “I hope you don’t mind, pet,” she said, with a smirk half-hidden by her hat that indicated to you that she was well aware that you didn’t mind at all, aside from how flustered it made you.

The pain from your injury went ignored as impulse suddenly spurred you to act, as it so often did. You grabbed the spymaster’s face and pulled her closer, crashing your lips together in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. You relished the tiny gasp against your lips, the satisfying thrill of taking Langley herself by surprise just this once; then, her hands were on your hips and she was pulling you closer, her tongue slipping into your mouth as she claimed her rightful dominance.

When you finally parted, breathless, your abdomen was on fire. Noticing this, Langley chuckled and pushed you down by the shoulders. You went willingly. “Try not to tear your stitches open, dear,” she chided, though her tone was amused – and you couldn’t help but notice you were dear now, rather than pet. “We’ll have plenty of time for this once you’ve fully healed and are back to work.”

She didn’t linger for much longer after that – work called – but you were, for once, perfectly content to lay in bed, heart thudding. Langley’s words carried an unspoken promise of a future of you and her, and with the memory of your lips on hers and her tongue in your mouth, you couldn’t wait.

[thatthirdtriplet]

Relationship:

Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Characters:

Tim Drake Jason Todd Bruce Wayne Dick Grayson Stephanie Brown

Additional Tags:

Tim Drake's Fake Uncle except he hires Jason alternate Universe - Canon Divergence timeline What Timeline Jason Todd is Red Hood Tim Drake is Robin jack Drake never woke up from his coma and Tim prepared his absolutely unhinged plan to avoid adoption which he then throws out the window when he finds Jason alive swearing Tim Drake's shitty self esteem unreliable Narrator implied/Referenced Child abuse alternate Universe - Different First Meeting mild violence guns attempted Kidnapping home Invasion identity Reveal idk. I thought fake Uncle Jason would be funny implied Fear of Sexual Assault nothing actually happens with that humor bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake that’s more of a background detail though POV Tim Drake POV Jason Todd and a little bit of POV Dick Grayson to keep things spicy

Summary:

Tim is prepared to take the steps necessary to ensure that Bruce will not feel obligated to adopt Tim when a comatose Jack Drake inevitably dies. But what could be better than preventing Bruce from ending up with a son he doesn't want? Bringing back the one he does.

Jason agrees to the Replacement's stupid, stupid plan to invite some strange adult man he's never met to come live with him, if only to keep the idiot alive long enough for him to serve his purpose in the Great Red Hood Revenge Scheme.

Might this new roommate situation have an impact on either of their worldviews? Surely not...

[gummybearzgocrazyagain]

kinn/porsche fic rec

Fake Dating AU

Tell Me That You Love Me (even if it’s fake) by @whitewalkers [luuuuuv me a fandom as ripe with fake dating trope as kp, it never quite loses it’s charm innit. kinn has a high school reunion to attend, and of course why not use it as a ploy to sway his most annoying bodyguard into confessing his nascent feelings... well-done, tis a rec]

Vigilante/Special Agent AU

Deep Like a Coastal Shelf by @Lilla_Torg [aight so this is an author with the very distinguished storytelling pattern, that i can not help but appreciate, their world-building and characterization is usually top notch, and this particular babie is not an exception: porsche and chay were brought up by someone from the syndicate that targets organized crime, and now that people, who used to call themselves their parents, are gone, Porsche is left with the ominous List, and a black leather vigilante suit, to keep their legacy alive. korn and gun are dead, Main and Minor fams are combined, tankhun has taken over as the Leader. kinn handles their overseas ops. amazing quality of storytelling, as always. DNI if you can’t handle pairings other than kp, as this is a multi-pairing piece, as it is customary for this author. but again, the story is so good, i didn’t even skip kimchay/vegaspete bits, which is a feat on it’s own. max kudosssssss]

the house don’t fall (when the bones are good) by @bytheriveriwept [i often say that i luved some works, but there are works i luved, and then there are works i LUVVEEEEEEDDDDDDDD with my whole-ass heart, this bit of genius masterpiece is the case of the latter. kp are special agents, colleagues, parts of the same organization, cohesive unit, and all that. only until porsche decides to take on risqué assignment, and go undercover. will they still be them, when he is back....? what can i say, this was sooooooooo up my alley in so many ways, i don’t even wanna say no more, if you haven’t read this.... what the hell is you even doing]

Third person POV

First Impressions by @AirgiodSLV [oooohhhhh how i luv me some piece of delicious 3rd person pov, yummmmm, Bank is a new hire for the Major fam, and this is the first time he is present at the meeting between the families.... yumm👌]

Alternative Meeting AU

stumbling to the edge by @FireRisingOverTheHills [absolutely delightful and underrated series for those who is not looking for heavy feels: it is light-hearted, sweet, well-written and entertaining, all without being angsty or plot-twist-heavy. despite the alternative meeting, it is still pretty much in-universe compliant. kp meet at a bar under different circumstances, but end up pretty much in the same compromising position that we all love to see them in. much kudos🙏]

the less i know the better by @mslunita [yummmmm, delicious morsel of tinder hookup-turned-softness, i really enjoyed this one: kp initially meet on the apps, and yet, being themselves, immediately turn this motha all soppy and lovey-dovey, - extremely canon-complaint, if you ask me. exactly the kinda content i am here for🙏 super-well done]

For Want of Fighting by @Mara [this fandom sure does luuuuuuv it some alternative meetings aus, huh, and i ain’t about to complain. great short piece, Businessman AU, first meeting is not too drastically different to canon, but the context does slightly differ. very entertaining and def a rec]

Sports AU

Salt by @ronadnhermy [oh. my. god. what a fucking catch, luv luv luved ittttttt, so well-written, so entertaining, there is plot, there is emotional turmoil, morally dubious kinn, maybe the younger versions of them is not exactly my jam, but with such quality, who cares... porsche is like 18-19 and on the Thailand National Taekwondo team, kinn is in uni, and sees something he likes, thangs spiral from there... super recommend, ah-mazing, allllllll the kudos]

bar owner!porsche AU

like real people do by @motherfleckers [Kinn is a celeb, Porsche owns a tiny bar in a tinier fishing town, simple premise with a delightful resolution: eyebrows, usual canon levels of audacity, motorcycle rides, and, most importantly, kinn’s dick is not small. it’s very very good (the fic, not kinn’s dick, although that too). major kudosssssssss]

Now make your bed (now lie in it) by @deliciousblizzardshark [2-for-1 tropes sale, apart from bar owner!porsche, you get accidental babie acquisition, my beloved <33333 fair warning, one must brace themselves for being gutted with longing, as well as general adorableness of kinn going “i’ve only had this random babie for 1,5 days but if something happens to her imma end everyone in this establishment and then myself”, adored this one sooooo much, prolly one of my personal faves, sooooooo many kudosssssss]

Cabin crew AU

before i leave, i want it a thousand times by @mslunita [despite somewhat disparaging reputation real-life cabin crew have acquired in my city, i clearly have no issues reading porsche being one slutty flight attendant, and hey, when your client is kinn anakinn theerapanyakul, who could actually blame him for slightly loosening his morals up on occasion, right? certainly not me, you go boiiiiii]

Historical AU

Love and the Art of War by @fortunehasgivenup [oooooowwwwww yassss, this is sooooo far up my alley it ain’t even funny. first of all, this author is everything, man, love all their fics, must reads, all of them. this specific babie is sooooo precious though: set in some nebulous middle ages, it’s a war camp setting, kinn has been away from home for months, and upon returning from some battle or other, gets an unexpected visitor waiting for him inside his tent. ngl, i would have read 200k of this, but author gave me 4, and i lapped them up like a man starved. perfection, truly. not to mention the use of “anakinn” in any context just does it for me🤷‍♀️]

Sex worker adjacent AU

escort AU by @Oscarian_Flame [Porsche joins the same agency kinn has been a long-term client of, and the universe expands from there. well-written and fun to explore, with interesting oc’s, worth a read for sure!]

Cliff Jump by @AirgiodSLV [ooohhhhh yeahhh babie we talking with this one💅 soooo.... vegas is using the same agency, and it kinda triggers kinn’s competitive side, earning him a certain...  reputation. once every twink is bangkok is so exhausted that ain’t noone is able to deal with his over-the-top shite no more, the agency sends someone who has enough stamina to withstand the lengthy bounds of athletic... interactions. yeahhhhh, you guessed it. so very entertaining and plot-twisty. so very delightful]

even though you’re not mine, you’ve got that look in your eyes by @fortunehasgivenup [highly highly doubt there are people left in this fandom who have not read this masterpiece, and yet could not exclude it from the recs, it’s that spectacular. if one must create escort-by-misunderstanding AU.... do it to such level. spectacular work, allllll the kudos]

Night Call by @ziusik [one of my fav pieces in this fandom no cap, if you know this author, you know, i obvi adore every single word of both mileapo and kp this author has everrrrr written, and this particular stripper!porsche au with absolutely helplessly besotted idiot-kinn is outa this worldddddddd great. it’s like if “under the influence” by cb was a fic, the vibe is simply immaculate]

Comedy/Crack

Wilderness Camp by @housseao3 [wholesome and endearing piece of fun, i lichrally cackled multiple times, i meannnn, tankhun with his rompers, chan/tay, sugarplum/chicken, unforgettable ken/groundskeeper....? adorable, entertaining and praise-worthy attempt at light-heartedness and humour, super-well done]

School/Uni AU

let there be no barriers (between you and i) by @anakinn [being both adorable and hot is a general qualifier for ending up on my rec page, so here it goes as well. porsche has had a crush on one of his classmates for the better part of their university journey. one day being bored in class, he decides to test some random online advice, and see whether anyone of his mates is a mind-reader.... you guessed it folks, one particular person just might be. short and to the point delicious morsel of general canon-appropriate kp horniness for eo <3]

i gave a second chance to cupid by @haeseolar [omnomnomnom *chomps down on this fic with gusto* you know the feeling you get while consuming media, this overwhelming regret that the magnificent piece of work you’re currently devouring has already been perceived by you, and you never get to experience it for the first time ever again...? big time my energy while reading this one, what a mind candy, i reeeeeeeeeally enjoyed it🙏🙏🙏 kinn is 39, he is teaching lit at a private school, when the new 24yo PE teacher joins their roster fresh off uni... i dunno what to tell you, this author just gets it, when i say all the kudos, i quite literally mean all the possible kudos for this one]

Various in-universe AUs

The One Where Porsche and Kim Are Gym Buddies by @fortunehasgivenup [oooiiii, what fun, what funnnnnn: kim and porsche are both in the fights, and occasionally meet at the gym... reluctant comradery ensues. they talk to each other about their respective crushes, none the wiser that they have been railing each other’s nong and phi... what else is there to say, the author is so good i even attempted to read kimchay, which is practically unheard of, lich-rally all the kudos]

Here With You by @Yeetyeetbroski [daaaaaaaamn sonnn, the tension, the tensionnnnnn..... “scrumptious” is an understatement for what a treat it was. thank you dear author, much much MUCH kudos p.s. while you’re at it, i’d recommend to go through this author’s whole catalogue, their rendition of kp dynamic is a delight to read]

The Aftermath by @Yeetyeetbroski [yippy, the softness <3333333 So this is an Ep 6 aftermath, an AU for Ep 7. absolutely lovely and adorbs. soft besotted kinn is universally accepted as one of the fandom fav versions of kinn, so in regards of delivering on this front this fic is def up there. awesome read]

Post-canon

Storm to Weather by @archay [it was soooo good, i luv this typa vibe, bitter-sweet, but hopeful <333 the theerapanyakul empire is done for, and kinn and porsche are out to fend for themselves in a real world. tis a rec]

Whittled Down by Another War by @rageprufrock [i... are there even words... abso-fucking-lutely legendary piece, the way theerapanyakul bros dynamic is portrayed in this.... damnnnnnnnnnn, if there is anyone, literally anyone left who has not read this yet... what the fuck are you doing with your life, GO READ THIS ABSOLUTELY MINDBLOWING FIC]

fell in love with the fire long ago by @builtempires [wieeeeeeeeeeee, what a tasty treat: kinn is away on business, and a certain head of the minor family decides that sending his partner some racy pics while separated by thousands of miles would help the situation... it both does and doesn’t. very entertaining, super hot, much kudos]

Magic AU

Instinct by @the-wayside [ohhhhh this bloody gorgeous muthafuckin thang.... i remember being so overwhelmed after reading initial chapters that i even dmed the author, cause it was cloying at my skin, the story is superb. not everyone, but many people got an instinct living inside of them, and what do you think happens when kinn goes to some random underground fight held at some random seedy club and his instinct meets porsche.... yeppp. something about reading how the most animalistic, primal part of kinn wants and longs for what is his is just.... maaaaaaaan, If you haven’t read it yet and there is still an opportunity for you to experience it for the first time, i am so fucking envious no cap]

Poring Down Crimson Fire by @Lilla_Torg [whatttttttt, this was fucking insane, like...??? the world-building??? i fucking can’t, off the charts, insert chief kiss emoji size of a sun. i don’t even know how to rec something like dat, just... insanely devastatingly interesting story, and yeah, technically it’s not even kp fic per se, cause the whole fucking gang be giving off main character vibes. must read]

+

bonus:

MILEAPO

......................................................................................................................

disclaimer: realizing how tricky the whole topic of rpf might seem, i myself have not dipped a toe in this pool in a long, long time, therefore do completely understand and accept any potential discomfort anyone may have with using names/likeness of real people for fanfiction writing purposes. kindly, if you are uncomfortable with the topic, do not proceed any further, thank yew. p.s. also, as it has been noted so many times before, if you didn’t want us to write/read fanfiction about you, maybe you shouldn’t look at your work colleague like dat, bruv, just saying

......................................................................................................................

Starting Ambitions by @iffervescent [abo rpf, fucking masterpiece, luv this story sm]

Marked by @oliviacirce [yeahhhhhhhh... this. this was... an experience. they are about to film the scene in pete/porsche’s room, but the special effects person is out with the stomach flu, and there is no one to apply the fake hickies to apo’s neck. mile comes up with the brilliant idea that saves the day. no words, only squeals and cheers]

Whole New Kinds of Weather by @archay [short, sweet, hot and to the point 👌 after the NYE 2023 the whole team comes back to Tong’s for an after-party (for the live of me, i dunno why is it always Tong in the fics, tis has become some kind of established fanon by now), and thangs transpire in his bedroom (sorry, phi!!! pls don’t kill them)]

obviously, every single word @ziusik has ever written, especially Limerence, your lips in the street lights, and of fucking course, just a step away, which is definitely one of my fav ma fics everrrrrr and forever fandom classic

and finally...

said you’d be coming back this way again, baby by @concernedlily [this is what i’d call an ultimate ma fic, jokes aside, if there would be a limited amount of fics a person is allowed to read in they lifetime, this would make the cut every time for me. no matter how many wonderfully written, extremely talented ma works are out there, this would always be the ma fic for me, absolutely fandom-forming, i can never praise this work enough]

[batty-pham]

Daily Fic Rec

Day 40 - Nov 9

Say Uncle

By Megaerakles

Tags: Tim Drake's Fake Uncle, Except he hires Jason, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Timeline What Timeline, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake is Robin, Jack Drake never woke up from his coma, Swearing, Tim Drake's shitty self esteem, Unreliable Narrator, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, mild violence, Guns, Attempted Kidnapping, Home Invasion, Identity Reveal, Implied Fear of Sexual Assault, Humor, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, POV Tim Drake, POV Jason Todd, and a little bit of POV Dick Grayson to keep things spicy

Wordcount: 46,431

Summary: Tim is prepared to take the steps necessary to ensure that Bruce will not feel obligated to adopt Tim when a comatose Jack Drake inevitably dies. But what could be better than preventing Bruce from ending up with a son he doesn't want? Bringing back the one he does. Jason agrees to the Replacement's stupid, stupid plan to invite some strange adult man he's never met to come live with him, if only to keep the idiot alive long enough for him to serve his purpose in the Great Red Hood Revenge Scheme. Might this new roommate situation have an impact on either of their worldviews? Surely not...

Complete: yes

This fic is funny as all hell. 10/10

[thirdrootwriting]

Brother of my Brother (Infinite Crisis - Bad End) pt3

Back to Jason POV. There is some gore, torture, and gun violence in this one.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

The thing about Lex Luthor was the man had an insatiable need to stick his fingers into every available pie, the greedy capitalistic little Jack Horner pig. If some serious shit went down, there was an absolute guarantee that Luthor had started that shit, worsened that shit, or offered some incredibly condescending ' help' with that shit that was -in reality- probably just a disguised ploy to fuck with Superman.

(And holy hell, Jason could admit that he personally had raging inferiority issues, both before and after his resurrection, but the way Luthor was with Superman made his relationship with the original Robin AND Robin 3.0  look like the model of mental health by comparison).

All this in mind, if you wanted to know something and didn’t feel like trying your luck snooping around Batman's shit, the next best thing was to hop a city over to the next autocratic billionaire. Armed with that knowledge, and with the street cred of being known as one of Gotham's rouges, it's not hard to growl and posture in front of the right seedy bar-owners, fixers, and middle-men to track down a villain that's been getting cash flow from Luthor.

 People in that sort of game might be hard enough to keep their composure and claim ignorance in front of the Big Bad Bat himself, but are always willing to spill the latest gossip to a guy with a rap-sheet, well-used guns, and blood under his nails. It's how they connect thugs and D-list villains to people Luthor or Talia for use as cannon fodder, and while it's annoying as fuck to be seen as nothing more than a gun for hire, it is useful.

So useful, that only three days after reading that stupid memorial page, the Red Hood's got his gun under the chin of some little mathlete, computer nerd called the Calculator (stupid name), the guy squealing about the Secret Society of Supervillains (stupider name) that Luthor had set up with Talia, who really could do better in terms of company, and that fucking creep Deathstroke.

Three fingers shot off at point blank and one knee crunched to bony, gritty pieces under his boot, and the Red Hood's heard way more than he cares to regarding this little fun-time club of murders, their plans for a world-wide prison break (like Arkham didn't have those regularly on its own), the JLA's nasty little foray into memory alteration (the good guys pulling, morally objectionable, authoritarian shit? Say it ain't so!), and how the Luthor leading them had actually been an alternative universe fake trying to pull some sort of multiverse ending evil scheme.

Fun times all around, and the Red Hood could not give less of a shit about any of it if he tried.

Hood readjusts his weight, putting more of it on his left leg that's bearing down on the Calculator's ruined knee. The man underneath him lets out a whimpering, scream. Hood lets his gun's aim wander slowly down the guy's body, he thinks about pointing it at the fucker's crotch just to see if he'll start crying again but decides to have a bit of class and lets the muzzle rest on the Calculator's other, intact knee instead.

"That'd all be real interesting if I gave a shit about what you were getting up to Noah, but I what I want to know is how things shook out. The world's still standing right? So whose dead now that the dust's settled, and how they'd get there? That's the real question."

Hood taps the gun muzzle twice against Calculator's knee. He won't actually shoot, too much chance of hitting a blood vessel and having the guy go unconscious and useless from blood loss, but he doubts this computer geek knows that.

Way too many villains get into this gig all excited about torture, extortion, and killing with absolutely no defenses on what too do if the tables are reserved. It's always hilarious watching them shit their pants and scramble when they suddenly weren't the meanest thing in the room.

"I-, I-, the Luthor we were working with, the one from Earth-3, he ran so the heroes didn't get him, but he's dead already. He made the mistake of trying to go to ground in Gotham, and the Joker got him. Apparently the fucking clown was pissy he didn't invited to festivities, as if anyone half-way sane is willing to team up with his crazy ass." The Calculator grunts out, eyes wide and desperate as they track the gun that's poised over his one remaining knee.

Ugh, what a fool-ass rookie mistake. You only tried going to ground in Gotham if were unhinged and bloodthirsty enough to be too much of a pain in the ass to attack or you were homegrown on its cursed soil and knew how to avoid the city's resident cast of horrors. Hood's willing to guess any version of Luthor's a dangerous genius, but unless this version liked peeling people's faces off and eating them for a midday snack, he'd undoubtedly instead got eaten alive himself by Gotham's hungry jaws.

A least if the Joker got him, the guy definitely didn’t die a nice, easy death. Jason knows that with a painful certainty.

"Mmh, closer to having something actually useful to say. But hey, you went to ground in Gotham too, huh Noah, and it seems that's working out a bit better for you!"

Hood grinds his left heel down again. His boots are too thick to feel the grit of shattered bone, but he can hear the mess of tendons, viscera, and bone shards underneath the Calculator's latest, warbling scream. The guy pissed his pants right around the time Hood shot off his second finger, and the whole air would likely have the sharp mixed stinks of urine and blood if he removed his helmet.

"Was working out for you, I should say. You must be a local boy, huh?" Hood pauses, till the Calculator's eyes have refocused enough to show he's paying attention to Hood instead of his own pain.

"So, from one Gotham boy to another, how'd it shake out for our Bats? I hear our latest little Robin got out fine, and god only fucking knows that we ain't lucky enough to hope Batman got offed, but how'd birdy number 1 fare?" It's hard to resist the temptation to grind down on the man's shattered bones again, to resist pulling the trigger and making him bleed. Jason can feel himself losing control of the urge to send this piece of trash to hell where he belongs.

"How's Nightwing doing these days?"

"Nightwing and Superboy took down the machine-tower Earth-3 Luthor was using to rewrite the multiverse. I didn't see in person, but I hacked communications, and from Wonder Woman's report Luthor killed Nightwing in rage as reve-"

Hood yanks the aim of the gun up from Noah Kuttler's knee to his skull and blows his fucking brains out close range. The left side of the Calculator's face explodes into a mess of brain tissue and blood.

He gives the body a final kick, then lets himself out of the apartment that piece of trash had set up as a his hideout. It's Gotham, and the few cops not corrupt enough to ignore this are too overworked to give a shit about some villain's death, so no need to waste his time taking out the trash.

Hood slams the door of the run down apartment complex behind him, and stomps out onto the chilly streets. It's not raining, just damp and cold as Gotham usually is in the fall, so there might still be people, but Jason doesn't really give a fuck right now. Between his now-infamous helmet, his more obvious guns, and the wide shoulders he grew into, nobody's gonna mess with him as he prowls the streets.

And if they do, well, actually smashing some drug dealer or rapist shit's head against ground still it cracks like a bloody egg sounds like a good time with the mood he's in.

Hood makes it four blocks, not thinking about where's he going and not lucky enough to pass someone dumb enough to try starting shit with him, before he can even think above the cold, angry, itching boiling beneath his skin.

He needs a plan, he needs to do something, do anything. Jason will boil himself alive in his own itching skin with his rage if he has to just sit on it. He'd planned to kill whoever had murdered Nightwing, figured it would be some hot-shot that got a lucky hit in the chaos of battle, or some too clever for their own good smarmy loser who'd gotten an advantage by holding a little side-kick hostage.

Jason could have worked off his rage on giving them a death that was almost as slow they'd deserved for taking someone like his brother from him and Gotham, and finally proved, that at least in this respect, he was better than Rob-, than Nightwing. He might not be so nice, so naturally talented, so charismatic, but he could have proved himself better in this and given Dick's death the closure a good person like him deserved.

He realizes his loud, angry walk has taken him close to the warehouses of the harbor, the drafty old buildings three times as likely to be housing some sort of illegal goings-on as they are to be housing shipping containers.

His- his- second time heading out as Robin with Nightwing, had been around here.

Jason had jumped into a drug-processing scheme too early, nearly ruined the bust. Nightwing had to swoop in and rescue him - though instead of cracking heads, the annoying prick had just flashed a fake, movie-star smile and sweet-talked the guards and drug processors into letting them walk out.

He'd scolded Jason a bit afterwards, but taken the sting out of it by inviting him along on the real bust later that night. Afterwards he'd shot Robin a much gentler, beaming real smile and told him 'good job'. Then he'd ruined that soft, tingly feeling of pride at being treated like an equal by Nightwing, by prodding and whining until Jason had reluctantly let Dick buy him ice-cream.

Dick had flavor palate of a little kid in regards to sweets, and he'd gotten whipped cream and sprinkles on his. Jason had made fun of him for being 17 and eating like a 7 year old, and-

Jason's nearly twenty now, older than Dick had been when they first met. He's right near the age Dick was when Jason had died, a funny sort of parallelism.

Hey, with the way he's getting on with the family right now, chances are Jason will also miss his brother's funeral. How fuckin' hilarious is that?

He leans his head against one of the warehouse's outer walls and laughs. It comes out monstrous and distorted through his helmet's speakers. His gloved hands can't find purchase on his jacket's shoulders to rip up his own skin and let out some of the anger inside.

Anger and maybe not anger. His face feels wet and he's still laughing a bit. Whatever Jason's feeling it's bad, and he wants it gone. Needs to do something, anything for this feeling to be gone.

He doesn't know what to do though, and the unbearable tide of it swells and suddenly and desperately Jason can't help himself from thinking he wants to be 13 years old again getting painlessly snatched out of the air by Nightwing with a trapeze artist's instincts for a fall about to go wrong. He wants to be 14, half-asleep on a mountain-lodge couch on his first ever family vacation as his brother quietly tells his father Jason's a good kid, with the softest tone he's ever heard Dick aim at Bruce.

He wants to be 15 with this same unbearable angerfeargrief that is drowning him now swelling and calling his brother, his Robin, Bruce's first son, the only person in the world that might understand how he's feeling. The phone won't pick up, and he'd known that, known that the Titans were in space all distant and unreachable, but he'd still called.

Jason had still had a brother to call, and the promise that maybe someday it would connect.

He dials Dick Grayson's current civilian number on numbs fingers.

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

Jason hits redial. He can't say why, the call's not magically gonna go through this time.

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

He redials the number manually, staring hard at the screen to make sure each button press is pulling up the correct number.

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

Once more, repeating the phone number out loud to make sure he's remembering it correctly.

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

"The number you are attempting to reach is not in service."

[dino-fart]

Mi amor! It's been too long, I hope you're recovering well. 😘

I've been on my Strange kick for so long, I need some Din Djarin so I can finish watching season three. Maybe y/n could be hunting him and while spying sees how he is while alone and with Grogu? Maybe has a change of heart about taking the job?

You got it babe!

@thealleydog

You were a highly trained, highly efficient, and highly assassin. Your reputation was talked about amongst many. You took jobs and never asked questions, killing whoever was needed. Many of your targets were corrupt men and women so it was easy for you to dissociate. Until this job...

This job that you were promised more than credits for. This job had one target: The Mandalorian. Your target didn't phase you, the creed of Mandalore was long gone and not as threatening as Jedi or Sith. This should be easy...Yet it wasn't...

The moment you laid eyes on the child in the pod, things changed. You weren't sure how you could carry this out without the little one seeing. It was one rule you had, you didn't kill or harm children and you certainly didn't want them to witness a murder. Everywhere the Mandalorian went, the child was with him. An odd pair but an attached pair.

There was a strong bond between the two and you began to realize the risks of the job when you saw the child possess the power of the Force. You had stalked the Mandalorian and the child to the planet of Endor. You weren't sure what he was doing there but the tall trees served you well. You were perched up on one of the trees, your rifle was aimed down and you had a clear shot of the Mandalorian and the child. You watched him look around and talk to the child.

Your ears picked up a rustling sound and you moved the scope of the rifle to see a small group of pirates hiding in the bushes with their guns ready. You fired your shots quickly and killed half of the group. The pirates rushed out of the bushes and ambushed the Mandalorian. You aimed your rifle at the pirates to try and kill them. You were glad the Mandalorian was highly skilled because he was able to kill a few and the child used the force to stop the blasts from hitting his father.

You missed the other group of pirates on the other side and ducked to avoid the shots being fired at you. You were about to aim when the inhabitants of the forest, the Ewoks, jumped into the tree you were hiding in. The Ewoks aimed their slingshots and fired at the pirates. You rolled over to grip the branch and positioned yourself to fall from the tree safely. You fell into the bushes and rolled on the ground to soften the damage.

You quickly stood up and stepped out of the cover of the bushes and killed the rest of the pirates. The Ewoks cheered and jumped onto the ground. You watched as they swarmed the Mandalorian and the child in joy. You put your rifle away and shook your head. You just saved the Mandalorian.

Your mission was lost. You turned around and rushed back to your ship. You froze in your tracks when you felt something pulling you back to keep you still. "Good job, kid." You heard the Mandalorian say and the force stopped. You turned around to face the Mandalorian.

"You saved us...Who are you?" He said approaching you.

You took a moment to think about what you'd say and decided to speak the truth. "I was hired to kill you." You said.

The Mandalorian approached you closer and the grip on the strap of your rifle tightened. "Could've fooled me." He said and stopped a few inches from you.

"If you're going to kill me, get it over with. It'd be better than having to explain myself to my employer." You glared.

"Who is your employer?"

"I'd rather die."

"I have an alternative option..." The Mandalorian said and you raised a brow, "Your aim is impeccable and your shots are steady. A skill like that is valuable."

"Money talks, Mandalorian."

"I can pay you double and make it worth your while."

"To do what?"

"Join me in finding Gorian Shard and ending him."

You were silent, Gorian was the one that hired you after all... Fuck it. You had already broken your code. You nodded, "Lead the way."

Tagging:@deepbatched, @vikingqueen28, @leonkennedyslefthand, @stewardofningishzida, @icytrickster17, @onlinecemetery, @marki-moo0, @absolute-not-original, @creamecafe, @scrubb, @nightingal3-tales, @alliethedaydreamer, @strangesthirdeye, @alexa-33, @zombiedixon89, @sunnsettee, @deliciousfestsalad, @kiaradaniell, @freyafriggafrey, @criticalroleobssedperson, @avengersfan25, @lunamoonbby, @androgynouspersonapricotfan, @foxcantswim, @namorkawaiiwife, @starkiller-queen, @kyuupidwrites, @luciamajer, @renatas10, @ayamenimthiriel, @gaiagurl05, @dipsylou, @pinkthick, @hansai, @andywinter16, @iambored24601, @3-cheese-tortellini, @cumbrbatchbenedict, @ironstrange1991, @aribas-stuff, @rianumochi, @vibaracal, @lostpirateinwonderland, @ninebluehearts

[avvail-whumps]

Can we get an alternate ending where Leo tells the truth and Sharpe is determined to get Roy punished whereas Roy is already planning how to hurt Leo more

‘guns for hire’ — alternative ending (money solves everything)

guns for hire masterlist

cw: past captivity, past torture, rescue, slight recovery whump, whumpee referred to as “kid” but he’s an adult, discussions of dub-con, stockholme syndrome, minor blood, violence, manhandling, recapture, kidnapping, implied non-con at the end (nothing explicit)

Leo didn’t actually remember nodding his head.

It was like he had been dreaming; everything had been floating like his head was flying off his shoulders, all the words they spoke like muffles in his ears.

Sharpe had come round the desk, his hands heavy on his shoulders and grounding him back into reality. He hadn’t even realised that there were tears streaming down his cheeks until Summers had appeared by his other side with a box of tissues.

“It’s okay, Leo,” she whispered softly, and there was relief in her eyes. Relief that Leo wasn’t sure he was feeling right now. “Can I wipe your face? Is that okay?”

He felt himself nod his head that time. That was a miracle in itself. Her gentle hands wiped the tears from his face with a soft tissue, a warm touch that didn’t make him feel as comforted as Roy’s. His throat closed up in terror. What had he done? He’d disobeyed his orders and he’d told them.

Why? Why had Leo done that?

“But I love him,” Leo sobbed, and Summer paused for a second, a grimace on her face.

“It’s not love, Leo,” she answered gently, as if she was treading on thin ice or that he was made of glass and could break any minute. His shaking hands tried to scrub the tears away.

“He’s going to be so mad at me.”

The words had become clogged in his throat, and Sharpe squeezed his shoulders again, trying not to let him spiral. Leo wasn’t sure if it was working or not, because he could just imagine Roy in the same building as him, blissfully unaware of the fact that he’d just destroyed any chance of theirs to be together.

Because that was what they both wanted.

“Roy doesn’t love you.”

They both wanted it.

“What you’re feeling may seem like love, but it’s not real.”

He was so sure of that.

Summers set the box of tissues down on the table, easing him out of his relentless thoughts. His puffy eyes met her own gaze, pooling with deep sympathy. Sympathy? Why sympathy?

“Roy isn’t going to hurt you again, kid,” Sharpe cut in, drawing his attention away from the female detective with a soft blink. “You’re gonna spend some time in Witness Protection, alright? He won’t be able to touch you again. You, or any of the others.”

His back suddenly spurred with this stinging pain, reminding him of the whip tearing his muscles apart, the blinding agony that he’d succumbed to. The person who whipped him had a blurry face, but just for a second, he saw Roy’s eyes.

But he was also kind. He cooked with him - he was bad at things and he laughed when he would. He didn’t want to let that go. It was all he ever wanted.

He heard Sharpe turn to Summers, his voice quiet. “I want him at the hospital and I want him properly fed and comfortable. I want a psyciatrist called for an evaluation before they want him in court to testify.”

“Psychiatrist?” Leo croaked, his heart thundering. Sharpe offered a small smile.

“Yeah, kid,” he nodded. “You’ve been through a lot. You’ll get the help you need.”

The two kind detectives had stayed by his side until his tears stopped, and Leo was able to exit the stuffy room in order to see his father. It had been an amazing thing, to feel his dad hug him so tightly for the first time, and he hadn’t even wanted to let go. Leo’s head had remained plastered to his father’s shoulder during the journey to hospital, and after riding in silence, Leo had dissolved into sobs once again.

His father held him tightly, so tightly, but it wasn’t tight enough to fill that hollow void that was tearing him apart. His father’s arms embraced him, cupping the back of his head and tucking him under his chin, in a way that any child would want to be held.

Once his time at the hospital had passed, his mind only consumed with thoughts of Roy, he’d sat through his first session with a psychiatrist. It was a tall, blond woman - she seemed nice, but Leo couldn’t focus on that when all he could think was how much he wanted to leave.

“Did you have a sexual relationship with Mr Gatlin, Leo?” She had asked gently, like the words hadn’t made his stomach twist with dread. His eyes were focused on the glass table in front of them, like maybe if he stared at it for long enough, he would see Roy’s face in the reflection instead of the psychiatrist.

Leo’s foot tapped anxiously. ���Yes.”

He’d wanted to lie, but what was the point? It felt like she could see right through him. The sessions were one of the most uncomfortable things he had ever had to experience. The anxiousness, the embarrassment, the idea of spilling his darkest secrets and thoughts to a complete stranger in the lonesome room.

He imagined what it would be like if Roy was here, holding his hand to help him get through it.

“But why would he have sex with me if he didn’t love me?” Leo softly breathed towards the end of the session, his eyes gleaming with pain. He rubbed his thumb against the scars on his wrist, refusing to meet her eyes. They were too sharp, too imposing, like she could read every thought in his little head.

“You experienced life changing traumas during your captivity, Leo,” the psychiatrist offered. He squeezed his eyes shut. “Mr Gatlin expressed qualities your mind was tricked into thinking was genuine kindness. He took advantage of your vulnerability. Your need for that physical affection.”

Her lips curved slightly.

“Have you always believed that sex is a romantic gesture?”

Leo nodded his head slowly. “Why would someone do that if they didn’t love them? Why would they bother?”

“A lot of people separate their sexual needs from their romantic ones. It’s a blurry line, but there is a line, Leo.”

“He told me he loved me,” he sniffled, pressing his hands into his face. He could feel himself shaking. “He, He said that he...”

“Mr Gatlin kidnapped and tortured you,” she softly spoke, slowly pushing the box of tissues closer towards him. She settled back in her chair with a sigh. “Do you really think someone like that is capable of truly loving you?”

Leo let out a quiet sob. Everyone was telling him that he didn’t love him - that these feelings were born out of necessity and trauma, that his isolated childhood was playing a part in his psyche. He ran his fingers through his hair.

“How frequently did you and Mr Gatlin have sex, Leo?”

He lifted his head, gently wiping away the tears. His heart squeezed a little. “Um, I suppose...often.”

“How long had this relationship been formed before you were separated?”

“I think...” He swallowed uneasily. “Not that long. I can’t really remember.”

The psychiatrist nodded her head. She was always incredibly patient with him, and that made it all the more easier. He frequently visited her during the court sessions, which he found himself avoiding, only until the day he had to testify.

He had kept his eyes downcast, despite seeing the man—he...loved? Thought he loved?—seated in his peripheral. He’d recited everything that had happened, answered the questions, and left. Sharpe had given him a lift, though it wasn’t easy to hear his and Summers conversation while he stared out of the window.

“We’ll win this case,” Summers had said, and yet Sharpe had let out a sharp tut.

“Yeah, that’s if his uncle doesn’t have the judge or the even damn jury in his backpocket.”

“Not with the kid in the car.”

Sharpe had always kept in touch over the months. Asked him how he was doing, how he felt about the psychiatrist – he came round for dinner sometimes, and his father seemed more than happy to cook. Leo sometimes found himself smiling and laughing along with them, but other times, he would be picking at his food with only one person on his mind.

Later, Roy was found guilty.

His father had hugged him and sobbed hysterically, thanking everybody out there and keeping him so close. Leo had cried too, but not for the same reason.

The mercenary was never truly off his mind. Even if it was easier to go about his day without being consumed by him every waking hour, he was still there. Somewhere.

Whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Holding him close.

Having sex with him and telling him he loved him at the same time.

Leo was curled up in bed, late at night, when he heard his father’s phone ring. He hadn’t been able to sleep well, and carefully listened into the muffled conversation from his comfortable position.

“Oh, Detective,” his father greeted, his voice melting into warmth and excitement. Leo’s ears perked up. He wondered why he was calling so late at night. “Are you—?”

His father was abruptly cut off. Faintly, during the silence, Leo’s blood spiked with anticipation.

“Bail—?” His father all but cried, and he could sense the crushing despair in his voice. “But it was so high!”

Leo’s heart rate began to pick up. Bail? They could only be talking about Roy. The bail had been expensive, so expensive it would have been impossible for someone, even of the uncle’s stature, to pay it off. How? How so quickly?

Leo heard a thundering crashing noise, and suddenly, he was leaping out of bed in fear. He rushed out of his room and into the corridor, the sight of his father’s limp body sprawled along the floor making him almost scream.

“Dad!” He called out, collapsing to his knees beside him in horror to find blood pooling around his head. Tears stabbed his eyes. “No, no, no, no, please.”

His fingers gripped his shirt desperately, the panicked thoughts going haywire in his mind. He could feel the static consuming his hearing, making it all fuzzy and incomprehensible as he squeezed his eyes shut, all those horrible memories crashing into him.

“He’s not dead,” came a firm voice, and Leo’s head snapped up to meet the smiling face of Roy. It was a cold smile. “Still breathing.”

The secretary made a dash, but as always, as it had been since day one, Roy was quicker.

Fingers tightened in his hair and slammed his face into the wall, a gutteral groan tearing from his throat when stars erupted in his vision. The gloved hand kept him there, hearing a sharp sigh from Roy.

“I’m so fucking disappointed, lion.”

The tears streamed down his face. It felt like his knees were going to give out on him.

“The worst part, is that I’m absolutely livid, too,” he hissed, and God, Leo had never heard anger dripping off Roy’s words like this. The worst part, was that they both knew he was holding himself back.

“I really thought you were smart,” he hummed, pressing his face harder into the wall. Leo let out a pained sob, his breathing picking up. “I leave you alone for forty-eight hours, and they manage to get into that little head of yours.”

Roy jerks his head back, spinning him around so that he’s facing him. His knees can barely even support his own weight, staring at the face he’d failed to get out of his own head.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, choking on a breath. “I’m so, so sorry—”

“You’re sorry now?” Roy snapped, his lip curled into a snarl. “You’re a fucking mess. Look at you. This could have even easy, but you’ve only gone and made this way harder than it has to be.”

The mercenary sighed sharply, his eyes flickering over to his father’s unmoving body. They softened, just a fraction.

“New names, new identity,” he hummed, tilting his head. “Shame. I like you as a blond.”

Leo sucked in a gasping breath. The grip on his hair was absolutely unrelenting, and he hadn’t eased up for even a second. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but the mercenary just gave him a violent shake, and it died on his tongue. An unspoken I love you, even after everything. Leo wondered if it was real or because he was scared.

“I’m so mad,” he reiterated, his jaw clenched as those fiery eyes bore into his own. “I could break both your legs and make you crawl after me. But you know what? I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to hurt you, lion. I’m going to do something much, much worse.”

The hand violently pushed him down to his knees, and Leo sucked in a hyperventilating breath. He looked up in horror when Roy started to unbuckle his belt.

“My uncle’s waiting for us both in the car,” Roy told him sharply, and his stomach twisted in dread at the word ‘us’. Us. He desperately shook his head.

“Roy, please—”

A harsh slap shut him up, and the hand returned to his hair as he started working his zipper down.

“Like I said, he’s waiting for us,” he growled, his eyes narrowed into vicious slits. “So that mouth better work quickly and give me a different kind of apology.”

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[ravenwitch45]

Imagine if Stella hired Striker for a hit on Bayonetta. I'll bet Striker's encounter with the witch would go similarly to and about as swimmingly as Puss in Boots' first encounter with Death, with Striker on the losing side!

Bayonetta: "A death threat? Really? In front of my martini?" ⬆

Striker's in for a surprise when he sees Bayonetta being the most expert dodger out of all his targets. (Because he doesn't know about Witch Time) ⬆

Either way, a moving target like her might make Striker unwaveringly believe that no reward is worth this! That he might, for the first time, go "fuck it!" and tell Stella to find someone else, 'cause he ain't dying for this vendetta and she can't pay him to do that!

He thought he was on a witch hunt, but ended up with the witch hunting him! ⬇

(Alternatively for fun, you could also imagine this same scenario but with a human-sized Madama Butterfly instead of Bayonetta...)

Oh lord poor Striker. I actually just watched Last Wish so I could do this the best I could so let's do this.

Perhaps he tries to sneak up on her, hearing her hum Moon River (That will come back later) Before she suddenly turns to him making him freeze "You know it's rude to sneak up on a lady, if you have something to say I suggest you say it"The witch states, Striker awkwardly recovering, pulling his hat down to hide his surprise before replying "Your a lady who has too much of habit of making powerful people upset..."to which her eyes widen as she gets up and chuckles pulling out love is blue "Oh, an Assassin I see, well then, let's dance shall we?"

Yeah Striker is way out of his league here, mainly due to two things, one witch time, Bayonetta continually dodging everything and retailating with attacks he simply doesn't see coming, and two her weapons, if Striker brought his blessed arsenal along which seems likely, he'd have a bit more of a chance, but most of Bayonetta's weapons literally have demons inside of them, not to mention she has tons she can pull out at any moment to keep him on his toes

She would certainly toy with him, literally shooting his bullets in mid air and just smirking at him as he panicks, eventually throwing his knife at her which she also shoots down, it stabbing into a wall right next to him which makes his heart race, Bayonetta just crossing her arms "You know, you do have a fire about you, and I'd hate to put that out, too few passionate people in the world these days, so why don't you run along, I won't blame you."She says, Striker looking at her in surprise, truly not expecting that, his hair standing on end as she raises a brow, cocking one of her guns and that sends him running after grabbing his knife, trying his best to keep his tail from between his legs.

He tells Stella off and checks out of that whole situation, except well... While I don't believe Striker would get as panicked or... well traumatized by the experience as Puss was from his encounter with Death, it still leaves it's marks, him remembering it as one of the few moments he ever felt truly powerless and afraid. And he get's all panicky ever hearing Moon River, terrified of ever seeing her again, though he keeps his composure despite that mostly until the memory get's stirred.

The thing I love about this most is I have an OC who's friends with both of them, so Imagine Striker and him just run into her on the street, and while there talking Striker is just scared into silence, hiding his face under his hat hoping not to be recognized, she has no ill intent or hard feelings, she isn't hunting him like Death hunted Puss but still, he's scared of her to a degree he didn't know he could be XP

[thelavendercatalogue]

brutal new post ;; i cant imagine what it must be like for jigen after lupin's... you know :(((

oh dear anon you shouldn't have asked that question @dagmartoons already knows what its called but Ill just call this one

The Ronin Ending

This pathway is a deviating Alternate Ending that occurs after whatever variant of A Choice in Eventualities, found here, happens. Whether Lupin dies, either on his own or with assistance, this arc is going to happen. The severity of how it ends however, is highly dependent on a bunch of variables.

Basically, the arc goes like this.

What did it mean to be a Ronin?

In feudal Japan, a ronin was a warrior without a master, who travels the country offering his service to anyone in need of a sword to hire. But unlike the lonesome cowboy or gunman in Western movies, the ronin in Japanese culture has always had a tragic dimension, a dawning sense of failure.

Following the loss of Lupin, Jigen is himself lost. Though he does not feel guilt over his friends passing, if his friends make the decision for him, that does not mean he is well and good in terms of stability.

In the end none of them are. If lupin was to actually end up dying, EVERYONE would start spiraling, though it would be Jigen who would hurt the worst. It would hurt and affect Jigen more, and despite his friends rallying beside him trying their best to hold on and offer support, Jigen on the other hand does not take his friends death well at all.

So much so, that a week after Lupin's death, Jigen goes missing. He disappears.

Then come the News reports

Five o'clock, Ten o'clock and the breaking news all start to report the near massacres happening throughout the city. All mobsters or those with mob ties All shot All left dead like carrion in the street

Everyone knows whose doing it in short time.

No one stops him

Everyone’s scared of him, even the police.

For who could be so bold, so daring as to do such a terrible thing by themselves in near broad daylight, with no help and a singel gun at his side.

And yet his proficiency, his fluidness, it’s all amazing as well as terrifying. Jigen went underground when he left the mafia but he’s back now and making a new name for himself along the way, as well as a new death wish

Now that Lupin's no longer around to be the one person who keeps him grounded, he's gone back to doing the single thing he knew he was good at.. killing.

He's gone full Ronin now.

He just doesn’t really care if he dies now either.

He doesn't eat. . .he barely sleeps, he's probably drunk half the time too, desperate to numb the pain. The man is essentially killing himself and whether or not he means to in the end is anyone's guess.

Maybe in the end that's what he wants.

After all if it is, it's the only saving grace, knowing that he wont live long enough for himself to have to deal with the loss of the other for that for to long. . .

He just wants to take a few people with him when he goes

_ _ _ If you wish to known the darker "ending" to this Alternate Ending. Leave an ask in the ask box :D

[briliantlymad]

KinnPorsche Fic Rec List Part 2/??

I am back. woohoo

In celebration of Kinn x Porsche being no. 42 on the list of top pairings on AO3!

Let's get into it

Two Shots by Martynax

Rated E. This one is so delicious guys, absolutely fucking amazing. Still updating, its on chapter 8 of 10. Gun for Hire turned bartender Porsche meets Mafia boss Kinn who contracts him for one last job. They fall in love with each other somewhere along the way HNNN its so delicous. the Sex Scenes? GORGEOUS absolutely well written. 10/10 steamy as fuck

Porsche’s eyes are searching him, looking for something in Kinn’s face. His expression is sympathetic, like he understands what Kinn is dealing with, but he also doesn’t offer help. And Kinn deep down had hoped that he wouldn’t have to ask, that Porsche would offer to help. Kinn’s heart thumps painfully in his chest, but he doesn’t avert his gaze.

2. Salt by ronandhermy

Y'ALL ?#>#>$>??? IM ACTUALLY OBSSSESSED WITH THIS ONE SO BADLY. It hits all the right spots. Alternate First Time meeting. Porsche is in his Taekwondo Champion era and Kinn is out here being a mafia boss who's got his eye on porsche for all the wrong (but so so right) reasons. It's written well. absolutely exquisite scenes that transition from one pov to the other, does an great job of translating emotions to scenes and OUF. its dirty bad wrong and that makes it all the more delicious. Dark kinn theerapanyakul in all the best ways that make my head spin.

oh Kinn likes Porsche’s eyes on him. He likes it a lot. There’s a challenge there, in the boy’s eyes. One that makes Kinn want to sink his teeth in deep and take this boy apart. Make him come shuddering and crying while clinging to Kinn and then make him do it again.

3. The Call of the Deep by wicca

A oneshot, Rated E, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, mind the tags, if non-con, dub-con is not for you skip this. Mer Porsche meets Eldritch Creature Kinn who's just as dark as the waters he dwells in. DELICOUS. I LOVED IT SO MUCH. Ever since that scene of Porsche in a mermaid constume my brain has been conjuring absolutely all kinds of situations. Wicca gets it. Written Well. The sex scenes are delicious, the tone and mood of the entire oneshot was handled well, i was hooked from the start. I love Wicca. please check out their other KP Fics!!

Porsche starts kicking out his tail to propel himself forward, but he doesn't get very far before appendages are wrapping themselves firmly around his arms, his waist, and finally his thrashing tail. Next thing he knows, he's back on the cave floor with Kinn's tentacles keeping his arms pressed at his sides

4. Neon lights (and Cold nights) by pinkdrinkbarbie

I've been crazy over this fic for a very long time. its 1.5k or less words per chapter but by the gods it feels like its not enough every time the author updates. bodyguard turned bartender Porsche who's out here collecting all the nongs. He finds Kim, adopts him as a nong and all's going well until it isnt anymore. We're almost to the end of the fic, it's on chapter 39/40 and i've been screaming wheezing crying in the author's comment section every time it updates. Patricide with a side dish of Avunculicide for brother bonding and reunions between torn apart lovers. you can't see me but im doing *chefs kiss*

Kim hates feeling like he can't go home. Porsche (unintentionally) gives him a home.

5. Alongside by apathyinreverie

Canon divergence, KinnPorsche's first meeting goes a little bit differently. Kinn is hooked from the start and honestly so am I. Possessive Kinn ? Possessive kinn. BAMF Porsche. I LOVE IT. Still updating, 4/? chapters. THEY'RE FLIRTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY COCKTAIL and im enjoying every bit of it

“Porsche. My name is Porsche,” he finally chokes out, a little put-out to be beaten at his own game.

“Hm,” Kinn hums in vague consideration, eyes still so fucking intense. “Porsche.” A pause. “I think I like sweetheart better,” he finally grins across the rim of his glass.

6. Sunflowers & Orchids by Anon

I AM A SUCKER FOR SENTINAL GUIDE AUS. KinnPorsche alternate universe. it's not rated. 4/?? chapters so far. Possessive Kinn is my weakness, i go ham every time i read kinn that's so so obsessed with keeping Porsche. Guide porsche has been evading authorities cus he doesn't wanna leave his brother, but helping Sentinal!Kinn from a drop ends up unravelling everything.

The man is up and out of his seat, in front of Porsche and hand raised to gently brush his cheek. "You'll get used to it." Kinn's hand slowly skims down to his neck in a phantom hold, the warmth is barely there. 

7. Stumbling to the Edge by FireRisingOverTheHills

Its series! Different First time meeting. AND UGH Every single word of this is godly. i'd etch into my brain if i could. You'l find me screaming crying rolling all over the floor in the comments of each fic because they're all so good. The author writes Kinn's POV so so well. I've been hooked on it. He's falling in love in real time and it scares him but gods Kinn just wants smth for himself and Porsche is so so easy to love T _ T

"Kinn sees his own reflection in the mirrors behind the bar, and he almost doesn’t recognize himself. He looks… relaxed. He’s smiling. It’s a small little thing, but it’s a smile."

"He doesn’t tell Porsche he’s used to the sparkling lights of Bangkok stretching out in front of him and that it’s Porsche that makes the view spectacular to him."

Only 7 today folks, I've gotta scroll through my AO3 and find more but phew its a lot sjsjsjjs

[downstarr]

One of my favourite genres has always been the spy action thriller. I especially love them when they're a bit tongue in cheek and are a metaphor for a relationship writ large. They're fun and stylish and sexy, and full of blockbuster action scenes.

That's what I tried to mash with OFMD in this fic. I always try to practice something new when I write these sorts of fics. For this one, it was action movie pacing and a plot full of intrigue.

This is very near the end! There's probably 2-3 chapters before it wraps and I'm posting about a chapter a week.

Versus (32553 words) by downstar Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet, Blackbeard | Edward Teach & Israel Hands Characters: Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet, Israel Hands, Ching Shih | Zheng Yi Sao, Chauncey Badminton, Nigel Badminton, Oluwande Boodhari, Declan Finch Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Spy - Freeform, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - Our Flag Means Death Fusion, Enemies to Lovers, Spy thriller, Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Gun Violence, Blood and Violence, spy vs spy - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Action, Intrigue, Espionage, Jealous Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Seduction, Jealous Stede Bonnet, Trust Issues, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, spy gear, Disguise, Travel, World Travel, Trains, On the Run, Mystery, BAMF Stede Bonnet, BAMF Blackbeard | Edward Teach Series: Part 7 of Gentlebeard Modern AUs Summary: Edward Teach, codename Blackbeard works for an intelligence and assasination agency for-hire. He's sent to kill the socialite Stede Bonnet after seducing him, but discovers that the man is much more than he appears to be. He's actually an MI6 agent, codename Gentleman, hiding in plain sight. Things quickly go off the rails when an attempt on both of their lives leaves them wondering who they can trust. As they become an unlikely duo, they are forced to reckon with the chemistry between them - and how that complicates their adversarial relationship. --- This fic follows in the grand tradition of James Bond, Salt, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, The Long Kiss Goodnight and Lucky Number Slevin. Featuring action in the tradition of spy thrillers, with a healthy dose of queer romance and an enemies-to-lovers arc.

[fanfiction-dot-rec]

Say Uncle

READ HERE

Author: Megaerakles

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types

Word Count: 46, 431

Chapters: 9/9

Part of a Series: Part 1 of Say The Word, We’ll Go Home

Rating: T

Category: Gen

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: Tim is prepared to take the steps necessary to ensure that Bruce will not feel obligated to adopt Tim when a comatose Jack Drake inevitably dies. But what could be better than preventing Bruce from ending up with a son he doesn't want? Bringing back the one he does.

Jason agrees to the Replacement's stupid, stupid plan to invite some strange adult man he's never met to come live with him, if only to keep the idiot alive long enough for him to serve his purpose in the Great Red Hood Revenge Scheme.

Might this new roommate situation have an impact on either of their worldviews? Surely not...

CONTENT WARNINGS, TAGS, AND MY OPINIONS UNDER THE CUT

CONTENT WARNINGS: attempted kidnapping

TAGS  Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, , Tim Drake's Fake Uncle, Except he hires Jason, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Timeline What Timeline, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake is Robin, Jack Drake never woke up from his coma, And Tim prepared his absolutely unhinged plan to avoid adoption, which he then throws out the window when he finds Jason alive, Swearing, Tim Drake's shitty self esteem, Unreliable Narrator, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, mild violence, Guns, Attempted Kidnapping, Home Invasion, Identity Reveal, Idk. I thought fake Uncle Jason would be funny, Implied Fear of Sexual Assault, nothing actually happens with that, Humor, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, that's more of a background detail though, POV Tim Drake, POV Jason Todd, and a little bit of POV Dick Grayson to keep things spicy

MY OPINION I could not stop laughing. The whole fake uncle thing will never stop being funny. A story where Tim hires Jason of all people to be his fake uncle? Even better. The layers of shenanigans never fail to amuse. And the last two chapters are my favorite. 

Post tags: fandom, main characters/relationships, warnings, rating,  word count

[miintsprigz]

Doubt this’ll pick up too much traction because it’s my own silly content but

I made some TF2 OCs.

They’re basically an alternative team of mercenaries that Blutarch and Redmond may have hired if they want wanted more than just the nine we have.

They still have the classes of the canon mercs, and it’s implied that the canon mercs still exist here, this is just the B-squad basically.

In order:

Francesca DiColpa, the medic, from Italy. Much like the counterpart of Herr Doktor, she’s got several screws loose, but is still very protective of her team. She also not only experiments on others, but herself.

Rosalie “Rosie” Anne Bassett, the scout, from Canada. She’s completely mute, the polar opposite of her canon counterpart, but she’s still bursting with personality and a terrific slugger in spite of any of that. She’s also kind of the morality pet of the gang.

Yuki Yamamoto, the heavy, from Japan. By far the least developed one, but Yuki is quiet, but very clever. She’s also quite a nice gal, as long as you’re not on the firing end of her machine gun.

Your honor, found family trope involuntarily happened again, I plead not guilty—