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#one day i will get out of this hellhole
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finished greywaren.
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dayurno · 3 months
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this is somewhat of a vent post & something i said i would not do again but has been plaguing me enough that i think getting it out might feel better. so. has anydoggy else been. Baffled and upset by nora sakavic’s refusal to speak on how terribly aftg has treated its characters of color? with the author of the series coming back with a new book and starting up on her online activity again, and questions of what she’d change about aftg bubbling up, it’s particularly glaring to me that we are all playing this very long game of pretend where we ignore how badly the non-white cast has been treated & her lack of thoughts on it
and i understand not wanting to bring up nicky and thea because people pick on her for it. i’m not trying to discredit nora sakavic’s terrible history of getting harrassed online by aftg fans. but i think it is very cynical, and it is very juvenile, and most of all very cruel, that she gets to ignore the very real ways the books have set up these characters to be hated. i think it’s obvious why the characters who get the most hate are the only canonical characters of color, and i think we do not get to treat this like a deliberate decision on the fandom’s part when the books have put these same characters in degrading and embarrassing and terrible positions in the first place. aftg is not a story about nice characters with clean pasts, but there is a very specific nastiness to the only characters of color being a brown man who sexually harasses and later assaults the main character, a black woman whose only scene is her lashing out at her love interest after being ignored for the first two books, and the japanese villain who gets maybe two lines of complexity before he goes back to being a terrible person. the white cast, in comparison, while not at all free from flaws, are never shown to commit mindless evil; all of their actions are ultimately justified. the book goes out of its way to give them concession after concession. we know exactly who to side with, because aftg tells us who these people are. does nicky’s assault ever get addressed in the books? does riko’s reasoning to be the way that he is ever gets more than briefly aluded to? is thea reserved even a shred of humanity or grace in her one scene?
anyway. it’s been years of talking about this and the fandom has been constantly hostile to criticism in this regard, and more recently any criticism at all, and it’s Grating to be on the other side of this discussion. it’s exhausting to know that in ten years we do not get even an acknowledgment besides the author saying she will not answer questions about nicky and thea anymore. it’s upsetting and it’s ugly and i wish no one had to talk about this again, but we do because what i thought was common sense has been washed away by a sudden influx of no-nuance adoration for the trilogy. basically i hope we all explode
two hours later edit: you're allowed to reblog this! sorry about the confusion
#this has been so upsetting to notice but 🥹whatever#there is a different kind of bitterness to thinking about how ten years have passed#and we are getting new content that changes and maybe even rectifies many of the ways we see and interact w aftg#and none of it not a bit of it addresses the racism#how it’s been ten years and the only thing we really get to show it is a book about a ship between two white men the fandom came up with#after seeing them be Suggested to interact in canon#i understand not wanting to hurt nora sakavics feelings by asking her about this#but imagine how tired we are. Imagine how tired we are#do you know how bad it feels to read through nicky’s worst moments in aftg#and know that he was written this way because he looks like me?#do you understand how exhausting it all is. can you imagine?#the fandom has been so quick to undo the criticism fans of colors have been making since day one#and for what. for what! my doves. for what?#have we come out of it any greater? have we done anything but lie to ourselves?#and anyway this is not some mindless pessimism#this is not me telling you that aftg is bad and you cant love it; cant have it mean anything to you#this is me saying that when we acknowledge these things it makes us better readers and better people#nora sakavic if you are reading this from whatever hellhole america you find yourself in#grabs you by the shoulders. This is not the end#this is not something to sit back and feel bad about#you have opened the floodgates of hell with tsc. kick the door in and release a revised version of aftg#there is a real material way for you to make this better. it is possible and it will not kill you#i would read a revised aftg. my mutuals would. many many many many fans would#making mistakes is not just a human right its a human inevitability#but we do not have to let ourselves get defined by them. We can do hard things#lets go of nora sakavics shoulders. anyway. where were we#aftg#txt#tsc
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scattered-winter · 2 years
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omg i havent though about voltron in so long!!!! now i lowkey wanna watch it again. i dont even remember half of it
fucking SAME. all I remember is that they introduced a bunch of REALLY cool worldbuilding and lore before proceeding to never expand on it again, so out of both spite and a genuine love for the lore of that show, I'm just. rewriting it. the whole thing is basically just a list of my grievances with the show nailed to the door lmfao
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psychoticwillgraham · 4 months
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i know I’ll eventually perform again and all im waiting on is a solid opening date of the club, but i’m just tired of waiting bc i feel like ive been waiting for an entire year now and when i get that first show booked, my friend has already said that he’ll be inviting the elite queens of STL, one of them being one of the most iconic missouri queens, to get my foot in the door name wise. i know all of my struggles in my career so far have been building up to this moment and it’s going to be a long time coming and a big moment for me, and im just ready for it to happen.
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vitiateoriginator · 10 months
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Mentally preparing myself to go into work and argue with my managers-yet again-about scheduling me to work on Tuesdays. They know that's the one day I have no availability. I can work all the other days of the week, anytime they want, just not Tuesday. Yet every now and then they conveniently "forget", and schedule me to work that day. They did it for this week and next week. They'll probably ask me to "make an exception" this time. Absolutely not.
Once a few months ago I did that, because we were preparing for a corporate visit, and then they argued with me for 2 weeks that I should be able to work Tuesdays since I was able to come in that one time. You give em an inch and they take a mile. Never again.
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kimarisgundam · 1 year
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Ok, seriously what the frig 😐
How did half the party end up with cyber psychosis after just 1 session 😐
Things were going so well, like we finally found our niche in Night City. Everyone was happy (I use the word "happy" loosely. At least no one was miserable) and we were starting to fully trust each other
Then it happened so fast... Exec made the wrong choice and we all watched our NPC friend get betrayed by Arasaka and executed 😐
I thought that after some time passes, the emotional wounds dealt to our characters would fade... but it amplified instead 😭
And I swear my Netrunner is the next one to get Humanity Loss from emotional stress if this keeps up. I'm grappling with so much guilt 😭
I seriously thought Arasaka was the pinnacle of honour and justice in Night City ok?!
This Red campaign was my first exposure to Cyberpunk 😭! I based my entire understanding of the world on my one introductory 1 on 1 RP session with our DM
I got indoctrinated I think?? I was devoted to my duty, I really believed that my Netrunner was above everyone else in Night City because I had "honour and duty", I wasn't "dirt" like everyone else here 😭
The moment my sponsor gave me an order (our DM would private message me), I would help facilitate the hit no matter what... I backstabbed my own party members and even indirectly caused the death of some of their old characters 😭
I still don't think everyone in Arasaka is bad... things aren't that black and white... but I'm slowly realising that Arasaka isn't any better than everyone else living in this city ;_;
I'm trying so hard to protect everyone. I was wrong about everything. The characters in my party are my Netrunner's first real friends 😭. I have powerful connections in corps and NCPD, but if they keep pissing off the wrong people one day I will be powerless to help them...
And can our Rockerboy in particular stop pissing my sponsor/dad off?? Like I know ok?? Dad's doing shady stuff that's violating at least 3 kinds of human rights. But look at who you're up against. You're just a glorified rockerstar. You think you can stand up to Arasaka and Militech?
Like this isn't even YOUR problem. You have beef with Militech cos they killed your family, I can understand that. But can you don't stick your big gonk butt into Arasaka's stuff?? It's none of your business, stay in your lane
Please don't make my dad order a hit on you?? I don't know what I'll do if I'm ordered to go after you again 😭
FRIG. If the rest of my party finds out how deep my Netrunner's connection to Arasaka really is they'll be so mad at me 😭
I'm so scared that my friend/her Exec will rat me out to them one day 😭
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meiieiri · 2 months
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𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 [toji fushiguro]
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synopsis: toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.
pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: saw you in a dream, timeless | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist
warnings: mentions of emotional abuse but generally pretty much a fluff fic where toji and y/n meet for the first time. | a/n: finally launching my little love project called “hidden inventory: the lost tapes”! 🍒
Now isn’t this just perfect?
Toji’s is just one inconvenience away from just going back to the Zenin clan with his tail between his legs. First, he underestimates just how expensive living in Tokyo is so, with what little pocket money his emotionally distant mother gave him before he left the estate, the first thing he does is spend it all on a girl — in broad daylight — he’s heard his brother, Jinichi, talk about those cute little call girls that crawl the streets of Kabukichō with flyers in their hand for thirty-minute “massages”. Naturally, as a young man who is only first experiencing the carnal joys the city has to offer, Toji was curious and he took the bait.
A bait that cost him ¥30,000 and the girl was unfortunately sloppy at best.
Now, he doesn’t have money to buy so much as a soggy red bean pancake for dinner. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around this dingy part of Shinjuku but as long as the red light district’s trashy ambience is distracting him from the growling of his stomach, then, he’ll stumble around this hellhole until morning.
“Ha! You won’t even last two minutes out there!” That’s what Naobito Zenin, the head of the clan said to him when he left. “Only two things await you when you get out of here, either you’ll die hungry or a cursed spirit will get to you first ��� either way, you’ll die with your eyes wide open with no one!”
Overrun by his thoughts, Toji doesn’t even notice that he accidentally intruded on a random cockroach and curse-infested alleyway that apparently belonged to some junkie who is now angrily telling him to get lost. “I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Toji scoffs. Weren’t they both bottom feeders in this city? Why was this rancid-smelling meth addict acting like he’s any better than him?
“Well, go sit somewhere else, this place is off-limits!”
It was almost funny how Toji thought that the world beyond the gates of the Zenin estate was any better than the shit show he was born into.
He should have known better than to be enticed by the glitz and glamour of living independently from his abusive family who at least had the decency to feed him maggoty rice from the estate’s second storehouse dedicated to prepare the animals’ food. They also gave him shelter, of course, he’s had to live in the Zenin estate’s shed for a while now since his father discovered he was born useless without an ounce of cursed energy. But at least he was warm, and the termites made him feel less lonely.
He continues on in his aimless quest. The night is still young. There’s plenty of time for self-depreciating introspection.
Hopefully, that grade three cursed spirit that’s been following him around the block for a while now gets to him first before the rain does.
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“That guy over there,” your coworker whispers to you from the cash registers. “He’s been there for a while now and he hasn’t ordered anything.”
You look up from your pocketbook, your eyes curiously trained on the rugged looking man whose eyes were downcast, trained on the service water he requested from the counter when he came in. As if he could feel a pair of eyes on him, he looks up, and glances your way for a bit but you quickly hide your face behind your book.
“He kinda looks like trouble, no? Shady too, just look at the scar on his lip…”
“It’s not fair to judge someone like that, Rika-chan,” you whispered to your junior, turning to arrange the menus, painstakingly wiping each one clean with a cloth dampened with sanitizer. A small smirk appears on Toji’s lips at your passive defense of his character and as if to goad you on, he drums his fingertips against the table daring you to say another word. “Anyway, I’ll handle closing the shop tonight. You need to get home since you have class in a few hours.”
That seemed sudden. Rika looks at you funnily before shrugging off her apron in favor of her raincoat. “Well, alright, if you insist. Should I clean up the kitchen at least?”
“I’ll handle it,” you give her a thumbs up, waving her goodbye as she leaves through the backdoor. Now that you’re alone, you could hardly stop yourself from glancing at the mysterious man, and Toji himself wonders if his presence here is starting to turn into a nuisance. You were probably waiting for him to step out so you could close shop for the night but it’s raining hard right now and there are no other places open nearby to take shelter in.
The chair’s feet screeches against the wooden floorboards and you head to the restaurant’s kitchen. Toji stares at your retreating form, looks like he overstayed his welcome. He searches around for a few coins to give to you for your hospitality, of course, it probably doesn’t mean jack shit, but you must have known he didn’t have enough money for a meal when he came in here. You would have realized that immediately. But you allowed him to stay regardless.
You return a couple of minutes later with a bowl miso soup with ginger pork gyoza and shredded cabbages. You set the bowl down in front of him and Toji is thoroughly taken aback, he looks at you dumbfounded. “I don’t have any money,” his voice comes out a little gruffly but you barely flinch at the sharp edge of his tone.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Refilling his water, you explained that while you could have easily stuffed those leftovers back in the freezer, customers wouldn’t want to eat frozen food, so, you decide to heat these items up to give to him instead. “Oh,” Toji answers a little dumbly. “Or you could have thrown them out.” He stares at the sumptuous meal in front of him. Even in the Zenin estate, he never had such good food laid out in front of him before and it was surreal to see a stranger do the things his family should have done for him.
You return to the counter, leaning on your forearms as you engage in light banter with him. “You’re saying I should feed rats over people?” you chuckled, sitting back down, smiling softly when Toji gingerly bringing the bowl of miso soup to his lips, the rich earthy broth warming his throat that he lets out a content sigh.
He smirks at your little remark. “I’m saying you shouldn’t make a habit of feeding strays.” He polishes his soup bowl clean within minutes and you have to remind him to slow down every now and then as you watched him eat ravenously. “You never know when you could get that dainty hand of yours bitten off.”
You blushed pink at that. He was right, being too generous could cost you dearly one day but being the altruistic soul that you are, you’ll probably continue to be graciously selfless despite the risk of being taken advantage of. It’s just how you are as a person who believes that a little kindness can make the world better than it was yesterday. “I…don’t really know about that…whether I get bitten or not by the people I help isn’t really something I can control. The world would be better off if people just learned to be kind to one another.”
Toji hums at your naive countenance, folding his arms over the table. The room is silent for a few minutes save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t ya?”
“And you’re a pessimist,” you answered, quirking an amused eyebrow at him. “Who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” You stand up to clear out the table, a teasing glint in your eyes as your curious orbs collide.
Toji scoffs, leaning against his seat, crossing his legs. At his reluctance, you shake your head, giggling softly. What an infuriating interesting guy. Toji hears the rushing of tap water from behind the counter and he smiles inwardly. The rain begins to slowly stop and he takes this window of opportunity to leave.
You don’t even try to hide your disappointment when you come back to the dining room only to find it empty, the stranger having left nothing in his wake — not a goodbye, not a thank you, and certainly not his name — except a single rusty five yen coin on the table.
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Clang-dong!
“Hello, welcome—“ You stop mid-sentence. Your throat constricting with a mix of emotions, the most dominant one being joy at this happy chance, you’d recognize those sharp dark green eyes anywhere despite only first seeing them a week ago. After all, they looked so dangerously beautiful under the dim light of the dining room’s ceiling lampshade. “—back. Welcome back,” you smiled brightly at Toji.
Toji nods, his hand coming up to cover his lips as he coughs once. “Thanks…ah, right — shit, where is it?” After rummaging around his parachute jacket’s many pockets, he finally takes out his wallet and you look at him, bewildered, when he hands a few hundred yen bills to you. “For last week. Sorry I couldn’t pay you back then.”
“It’s fine.” You take his larger, calloused hand and return the money which Toji responds to by stubbornly placing it on the table.
Toji pinches the bridge of his nose when you playfully return the gesture by rolling it up and placing it in his jacket pocket, buttoning it. “Look, it was real nice of you to treat me back then, but I’m not a charity case, alright? I just wanna pay my dues.”
“Then, a simple ‘thank you’ is enough.” Toji just couldn’t understand you. You have absolutely no reason to be nice to him, but you are. For a moment, he begins to fall into the enticing thought that maybe life outside the Zenin estate won’t be too bad after all if there are people like you still around just waiting at random corners to be found in joyful happenstances such as waiting out a storm at a random family-style restaurant over a heartwarming serving of miso soup with tender pieces of gyoza and cabbage.
Relenting, he smirks at you, unable to figure you out. “Thank you.”
“Anyway, need a table for lunch?” you smiled warmly at him as you lead him to the table he sat in a week ago which you now affectionately refer to as ‘his’ table instead of table number four.
Toji nods following your lead and chuckling when you hand him the menu. “Where’s that thing I had last time?“ he oddly flips through the booklet.
“Oh uh…it’s not on the menu actually, but I could make that for you if you’d like.”
“Sounds good.” Toji hands you back the menu. You are just about to scurry away to the kitchen when he calls out to you. “So, do you have a name or should I just keep referring to you as gyoza girl or something?” Embarrassed at the way your knees seem to become weak at his boyish grin, you have to take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him again. “I’m Toji.”
He doesn’t say his last name. He doesn’t feel the need to anymore now that he’s finally closing the door to his past. You nod, noting how the name suited him. It’s brief but strong, muted but loud in its rhythm. Toji. At that moment, you find it impossible to name a prettier sound. After a few excruciating minutes in the kitchen, you come back out with two bowls of miso soup this time around and you sit down on the chair directly in front of him.
“Y/N.”
Toji repeats the melody of your name in his head. “And how much do I owe ya for this, Y/N?”
You shrugged as the two of you dig in, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you chew the steamed gyoza, joining him as he laughs (well, he’s scoffing more than actually laughing, really), his eyes alight with wonder, when you simply say, “Five yen.”
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creampievampire · 1 year
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another christmas passes alone and forgotten
and people wonder why im so bah fucking humbug about this stupid holiday
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nexttothelamp · 1 year
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....
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gangplanksorenji · 4 months
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Kinknuary Day 13: Uniform Kink
Pairing: NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader
Word Count: 5,562
[Kinknuary Masterlist]
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It’s just another goddamn stressful day that you’ll be tackling and you just can’t wait for it to end. Even teaching a class full of boisterous students sends you into a hellhole of utter stress and dismissing them is such a sigh of relief—you still show empathy and enthusiasm to teach and make them learn new things but there are just times where it’s really unbearable but you fight through it, following your moral code of conduct.
Yet one student stood out from the rest, not really because of her academic performance (in which she is already doing decently great) but, in the way she dressed that literally doesn’t follow the campus’ dress code.
As she’s about to leave and get her bangs packed and ready, you suddenly called out her name in a formal manner as you caught her attention off-guard. Of course, she rolls her eyes in subtle annoyance as her friends opted to just wait for her onto the campus’ canteen and Hanni agrees on that and averted her attention towards you.
“What is it, professor?” Hanni asks you with little-to-no-interest as wants this to end as quickly as possible as she has more endeavors to be in with.
“Ms. Pham, I would like to talk about something that I’m pretty sure you’re aware of.” Your stern demeanor intimidates Hanni as the presence of gravitas within you makes her feel a hint of nervousness, unsure on what you may talk about.
“I don’t seem to know what you’re talking about, professor?” She seems to not be cognizant about what you’re talking about as there’s multiple reasons on why you may call her out. It may seem sincere but she may act oblivious just to trick you but you could never be so sure, so you enlightened her with a fact. “Don’t you see what you’re wearing, Ms. Pham? Don’t you see that it definitely doesn’t follow the dress code of the school’s regulations.”
“Oh, I guess I’m sorry, professor. I don’t know anything about this regulation-thingy and what are you going to do about this, hm, strip it out of me, professor?”
God, this girl—Pham Hanni, yes, this girl is not the girl you don’t want to deal with. Everybody knows how bratty and stubborn she can get whenever she’s being disciplined and snapped back to her place, despite her bubbly and friendly attitude. With that iron wall that’s strong within her, you want to teach her a lesson and break it despite the possible risks and you might need to even take it a step further than the most primitive ways of disciplining students.
You let out a deep sight as silence ensues and then, you slammed hard on the desk and gave her a cold, stern gaze that startled and scared Hanni. “Don’t you dare talk to your professor this way, Ms. Pham Hanni—and I know you’re not this oblivious to not know about the school’s rules and regulations, don’t you?”
And as much as you’re having the higher authority right now, Hanni herself didn’t back down without a fight and rather provoked your inner fire that you didn’t absolutely like but your patience is staying stronger than steel, fighting through her stubborn behavior. It became continuous that the both of you are starting to argue like little kids but you still maintain your composition yet Hanni’s erupting like a volcano gone rogue right now and there’s one thing to deal with this, moreso, privately.
“Then why does it matter so much for you, professor? Just say the words and I—”
“Go to my office now, Pham Hanni.” You interrupted her with a single sentence as her heart dropped massively as fear now emanated on her eyes, as she never saw you this serious before. As much as she wants to complain or retaliate, she doesn’t want to get in any trouble or escalate this situation further so, without any choice, she packed her things and went to your office with you, of course—you need to guard her since she might immediately escape and catch you off-guard, unprepared and you don’t want that to happen.
Once you’ve reached your office, you offer her a seat as you turn on the lights and sit on your chair, ready to further talk about her annoying and frustrating behavior.
“Professor, if it’s just another dumb talk about my bitchy behav—”
“Can you just stay quiet, please?” You retort in response with her talkative antics that made you boil in anger and immediately, Hanni shuts her mouth silent and gulps nervously. “You are being a nuisance to a lot—let me repeat it again for you, a lot of professors, whether it’s your stubbornness or you just being incapable of following such simple instructions and being selfish, it’s getting out of hand.” You blow a deep breath as you’re about to tame a beast like Hanni as you’re preparing for another pointless hindrance that further makes everything go down into flames. 
You’re just as puzzled as most of the people that knew her and you hate that one thing that really shows how much the professors despise her—her bratty attitude that will never fade as the boys around her fall in love with that and it’s just something wrong. As much as you don’t like her not following the dress code the school has implemented, you can’t lie and dive into your hypocrisy with the beauty that lies within her because of her aesthetically hot school uniform outfit. Of course, you won’t let your intrusive thoughts win and remain composed throughout the time being of disciplining her and making her snap back to her roots.
Yet you have a single trick up your sleeve whenever this gets out of hand, and you’re just holding onto this for a while, testing your patience.
“We don’t know what to do anymore with you so a little cooperation will be appreciated if you will just—”
“But here’s the thing, professor—” Hanni pushes the chair a little back, before standing and giving you a subtle smirk in aims to lower down your guard. “—at the end of the day, it’s not going to harm anyone and you can’t do anything with it, hah.”
“Hanni, it’s not just that—it’s all about the discipline and the control of your—”
“Oh, stop it, professor—” Hanni walks towards you as your senses heightened, absolutely flummoxed with her eager movements towards you as she’s obviously seducing you into making you fall down her spell. “—don’t tell me you don’t like how pretty I look in this outfit.”
In all means, she’s goddamn right and there’s no way on earth you would say a no but of course, you’re fighting the urge of your primal desires as you brush her approaching advancements to lure you in, retaliating and further wanting Hanni to back down even though you know that she’ll just advance without anyone to stop her.
“Stop this madness, Pham Hanni—you’re not going to—”
“I’m absolutely in this, professor—stop being a hypocrite and tell me how pretty I look with this uniform.”
It’s her accent and her saccharine voice that further doesn’t help with your defensive state against her unstoppable will. You can’t lie how perfectly beautiful she looks in this possibly-cursed uniform as every inch ultimately highlights her slender waist, her beautiful thighs and her perky mounds and you hate it. Maybe, she dressed like this for a purpose but you’re not so sure and you’re running out of time before you unshackle everything that has been caged for so long.
Knowing that hypocrisy is such utter bullshit, you finally give in a little as you start to stutter and mutter such complimentary words that Hanni catches her ears on it.
“You l-look good in this outfit, Hanni—not going to lie with you. Your curves, your thighs, it’s just perfect for you.”
Hanni finally smiles widely with her eyes drawing such crescent moons, emanating her cuteness towards you. She’s delighted to hear your sincere takes on her outfit and decided to take it a step further than ever before. Hanni then closes towards you as her hands palmed your chest, the warmth of it making you overwhelmed and excited as your heart races its beat like it’s catching something.
“I guess you want something to deal with this, right, professor? And don’t you dare say no because—” Hanni looks at your eyes endearingly with aims to further lure you onto her spell as her thick Australian accent followed by her sweet voice seduces you further, “—I can see in your eyes, professor—your pretty, black eyes says it all…” She further puts gasoline on the flames as she caresses her hands slowly on your chest, making you feel the affection and sincerity of Hanni’s eyes and because of your clever mind, you knew exactly where this is going as you fully gave in to your animalistic urges and broke apart your stern, teacher-like persona.
“I do want you, Hanni. I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re so goddamn pretty and hot.” You took some quick peeks on her impeccable features as she saw this, smiling at the fact that you’re admiring her scrumptious body and her pretty face.
“I know professor—you’re hot and pretty handsome too. You don’t know this but—” Hanni tiptoes as you slightly slouch in order for her to be in level with you as she whispers in your ear, “—I had a crush on you for a long time now, professor.”
This may sound unorthodox for you but you feel your heart beating triple its normal rate, finding Hanni’s advances wholesome and flustering. It may sound wrong as you want to unhear what Hanni just said but you can’t help yourself with your own desires and even wanting more. Knowing that Hanni’s touches are getting bolder enough for you to act up, you gently push her hands off on your chest as she pouts cutely, dejected with your retaliating advances yet she doesn’t give up, at her watch.
“Hanni—we can’t be doing this. This is just wrong, I’m sorry—”
“But professor—” Hanni lays down onto the couch as she displays herself in front of you and all you can see is an angel getting ready to be sullied. “—don’t you wanna think of something else? Like, kissing me, making me rile up or just ruining me with this goddamn uniform? Come on professor, make a girl worth her while…”
With your own desires taking over you, you can’t be bothered to really make yours unattended as her primal calls make up for your time as you were lured by her own devilish remarks. You pin her down at the couch as she yelped in response, feeling a little shocked with your aggressive actions but she never wanted you to break the heated atmosphere that has been building up as she grabbed your collar and kissed you intimately.
This is totally wrong—you said to yourself but you didn’t care anymore, not when Hanni’s plump, luscious lips are in contact with yours, sharing such an intimate kiss as the both of you find yourselves even indulging deeper and not wanting to end this so soon but speak of the devil, Hanni pulls out of the latch of your lips as she looks at you with need in her eyes. Can’t seem to really contain yourself anymore because of such a hot scene, you thought of something that will change the course of this session and will start things off incredibly well.
“Get on your knees, Hanni. I’ll probably assume you know where this will go, right?”
Getting up on the couch, Hanni eagerly obliged to your request as she knelt down in front of you with her eyebrows furrowed, a little nervous about what you may have in store. Hanni knows what you’re coming up with but she just wants everything to be confirmed by you so she didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Are you s-sure about this, professor?”
“Yes, Hanni—I am more than sure. Besides, no one will know any of this and have no secret cameras installed here anyways. Now, do your thing and impress me.”
Your tone makes her heart drop as the heat makes everything intense as your stern face intimidates her but it didn’t bother her to start her own service. Her hands trembled a bit but she didn’t care as she continued unbuckling your belt and then unbuttoning your pants as you mildly groan due to her hurried actions as her touch feels enchanting, the hotness rivaling the cold air that had permeated around the room. Even with the possible uneasiness laced in every move she does when she’s stripping you, you can’t help but be in awe of how she’s genuinely interested in what she’s doing as the lust and anticipation glistens on her dark orbs.
“Have you done this before, Hanni?”
Hanni, still busy with her current activity, takes a second before she could respond as she looks at your eyes endearingly and mutters, “Not really, professor—just on my toys though, so I had some little practice at my end.”
You scoff as you were shocked by Hanni’s dirty, little secret but you didn’t take it as a joke or way too seriously—it’s just great that she had experienced it with even a silicon toy but now, she’ll be trying the real thing and it’s just going to be better than this. Now, with your last defense left before her grand treasure, Hanni didn’t waste any time and let the feral beast inside you be unshackled from its frustrating restraints and god, Hanni’s eyes lit in awe and amazement as she gets her first treatment and a sight of such a beautiful, perfect cock.
“Professor—it looks good and thick. It feels so warm and nice on my hand too—woahh...”You can see how adventurous and how new Hanni is in these kinds of things as she’s just in full-admiration of your entire length now all for her to taste and use. You want to show some mercy with Hanni, even with her bitchy attitude that makes you want to teach her lesson, you’d still keep the feral beast inside you for now as you don’t want yourself to grow impatient, reminding Hanni on what to really do.
“Show me what those plump lips can do, Hanni—show me what they’re really made of.”
“Yes, professor…” With no time to waste, her soft flesh meets your engorged tip as she sends multiple pecks onto it, from your tip down to the base her actions immediately send waves of pleasure and it's a pandemonium of delight. Sudden surge of pleasure does course down your veins and you can’t help but let out moans that screams volumes of peak delight and gratification with the incredible work of Hanni’s lips marking every inch of your shaft with her touch and she’s barely even doing anything on your cock yet. 
Well, you didn’t need to imagine anymore nor Hanni as she envelops her soft lips all over your tip, just pushing it almost the frenulum as she eagerly bobs her head and sucked onto your length like it’s favorite popsicle. With you sitting onto the couch, you may think that Hanni’s struggling a little due to the position but she shows no signs of it as she continues her masterclass of an incredible display of her talented mouth doing wonder all over your length. She definitely knows how to suck a damn cock like yours, even if she said she hasn't had a real one and just done it with her toys makes you think if she’s lying on her teeth but you didn’t mind it as you let do an incredible job between your legs. Inevitably, saliva seeps out at the side of her mouth and onto her chin due to her furious bobbing as it stains the couch and makes it a little wet—adds to the element of a messy, sloppy, and most of all, a great blowjob session.
With now taking more than half of your length everytime she thrusts her mouth on your cock, a gag can be heard resonating around the room as it’s bound to make your arousal soar higher than the heavens, and it absolutely did. She didn’t stop sucking you, moreso, even pull out quickly enough to catch her breath as she gives you the best she could deliver as she’s totally serving the dish hotter than what you expected, all of the elements coming all together in aims to reach a single goal: to make you stimulated enough to blow a healthy, thick load. With her furious bobbing onto your constantly throbbing penis, you grabbed her blonde-highlighted dark streaks as an outlet to fight the constant pleasure you’re experiencing and wanting yourself to give her a treat, you caught her off-guard by simple forcing your entire length down her throat as it hits the back of it, activating her gag reflex and immediately, she forced out of your saliva-sheathed member as she catches her breath in response.
“Wha—What w-was that professor?”
“I just wanted to feel your entire throat and if you can take it whole, Hanni—go on and continue…”
Hanni throwed a slight glare because of your sudden harsh actions towards her but she brushed it off immediately and got back onto sucking your raging length again. This time, it was better considering how she locks eye contact with you periodically, more often that earlier and with a new and a better addition, Hanni’s dainty fingers finding its way to fondle your balls for further stimulation as it became so frequent that you increase the quality and also the volume of your moans and that alone sends Hanni onto a better task at making your brain go haywire.
There’s is no absolute way that this can get any better—Hanni bobbing her up and down furiously as she gags every time she does it, saliva seeping out her mouth and staining the vicinity around her lips, her tears and makeup getting ruined because of her own harsh doings against your length, and the peak of the iceberg is herself in her uniforms which turns you on so fucking much—and there’s nothing you can ask for at this moment. Her pace is just getting ridiculous at this point that it’s all going to get out of hand soon because you’re feeling the familiar sensation growing up in your loins as you have  more plans ahead for this girl as the both of you are just starting.
Well, you never knew that a girl in her uniform would make such a blowjob session thrice as hot as you’ve ever thought about and maybe, you just found yourself a new fetish.
“S-Stop, Hanni…” Your pleas fall deaf onto her ears as the sounds of her constant slurping and her sheer focus on sucking you off makes off a wall to refrain herself from any distraction. Gathering up more strength, you raise your voice in hope for her to hear you as you can feel yourself going near that high you’ve been waiting for but you don’t want it deep down her throat.
“I said stop, Pham Hanni!”
Fear took over her as she’s startled and afraid with your tone, immediately stopping and pulling out of your drool-lathered, throbbing length as connections of saliva were evident.
“Did I d-do something wrong, p-professor?” You could feel the fright laced between her words as felt bad and guilty with it, so you reassured her in the nicest way possible as you don’t want this to end so quickly and anti-climactic.
“No—I want my load to be deep in your pussy because girls like you don’t deserve a load deep down their slutty throats…”
“B-But I deserved it!”
“I won’t repeat myself, Hanni.”
You’re not wrong, by any means. If she misbehaved so badly and acted like an unbearable brat earlier, then it’s just fair making her be deprived of your seed. You commanded her to stand up as she did so, and you helped her with that and not so long after, you ordered her again to bend herself over, her hands palmed all over the wall as she gave out an excited look, Hanni anticipating what you may still have in store up your sleeve.
“Do you w-want me to strip off m-my clothing?” Like your growing fetish onto hot and petite girls in uniforms, you can’t be bothered to see her naked as two brilliant things are the reasons: one, she’s still within the school’s premises as you don’t want her to be utterly ruined and naked when the both of you are done and two, you really want to sully her with her uniforms on as it’s such an arousing sight to see her curvature and her impeccable features being complimented by her uniform. With this conclusion, you came up with a single reasoning and replied to her—
“No, I want your uniform stayed on—you’ll look better ruined with those on and look too great on that.”
Hearing this, Hanni’s lips curled up a smirk as she knew how to really turn you on right from the start. She knows her captivating and alluring aura will send down your defenses and will break your stern persona as a professor and given the fact that her in a uniform turns you on even more than what she expected, makes everything better and more arousing. Now, with her unparalleled pleas of needs towards you, you can’t help but feel yourself inching closer towards a heavenly route towards your own sin—and you’re about to take such a bold risk that will define your limits and Hanni’s and it’s all about to break down. With her petite and slender figure bent over and ready for taking, you take a moment to admire her plump cheeks and her beautifully sculpted thighs that it’s in the right amount of thickness. You caress your palm over it as your fingers slowly run over the hem of her white-laced panties, stretching it out a little in order to tease her and not for long, your deftly swiped it down to her ankles as you were met with her glistening, needy cunt that’s already dripping and you don’t know when it started.
With that desired treasure within your reach, you’re in no state to not dive into it yet your conscience fights with you but you manage to calm it down as you fully indulge on your own needs and immediately, you plunge your length in her with a harsh grip on her thighs as a leverage and god, her moans are basically the purest and the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard in your entire life—such sultriness and sweetness behind her lustful needs makes it such a great symphony to listen as rhapsodies of her delighted feelings escapes her mouth, further muttering such lovely moans that greatly fueled your lust over her.
You know this is wrong—so besmirching yet you’re at the point of no-return and just finding yourself being lured deeply into the abyss of your primal desires.
“God—p-professor—your cock—oh, it’s so big and n-nice up my tight, l-little cunt!”
“You’re t-tight as fuck too, Hanni—let me guess though—” You then inch closer towards her ear and fixed her hair as some of it falls back onto the other side as you muttered, “—you’ve tried shoving up your toys in this tight pussy, isn’t it?”
Hanni’s already at her vulnerable point as she can’t think of any articulate response rather than moaning in need yet she manages to fight through it, uttering a reply before she can let out her lustful profanities again. “Y-Yes—yes, professor! I l-love playing w-with my toys that’s why—fuck, so good!”
As you ensue such powerful yet slow thrusts, Hanni can’t help but voice out her satisfaction each time you do it as her thighs jiggling in response to your harsh movements is bringing you into a hypnotic trance. With her delectable buttcheeks being a victim of such vibrations due to your constant ramming of her cunt and with that such, you gave her a single spank that reverberated around the room and Hanni herself cried in intense pleasure because of it. With such an incredibly hot sight of Hanni in her uniform, getting railed from behind, you can’t help but make yourself unable to maintain the pace even if you wanted it slow with Hanni and you didn’t last long and gave in to your primal instincts and let your hips do the work.
Your new profound pace makes Hanni writhe as her fist forms tight curls from the constant course of pleasure running down her veins, making her stimulated enough to drip around your ravaging member and onto the floor, staining it with her own succulent juices. Your hands now averted its attention towards her shoulders and then her perky mounds in which you slowly groped, and fondled them carefully while still maintaining a breakneck pace that’s been forming such heavenly clouds of gratification that makes the best for both worlds. She lets out a series of satisfied moans, but this time, it’s more sultry and more of a whimper in your words as your intimate actions brings her closer onto her own promised land.
“Oh fuck—professor! P-Please k-keep doing—fuck, ahh—that!!”
It was the same words uttered earlier and until now, and you’ll never get tired of it and will even make her a ruined mess that can only moan such lifeless syllables full of lust. With your relentless pace and such stimulating actions onto her small mounds, you further make it worth her while as you kiss her nape and suckled onto the porcelain skin, making her feel cherished and treasured as it’s all just becoming too much for Hanni that she’s unable to control herself, vulnerable on writhing unstoppably as the quivering of thighs would be a reasonable evidence to start with.
If this is what Hanni wanted at the very start, then she’ll get what she wanted—not because she solely deserved this, yet.
“Is this what you wanted, hm, Hanni? You really decided to dress like this to lure me in—well, you fucking got it because—” You keep fucking her steady as she cries from the stimulating actions your hips has been oscillating as her tumultuous mouth letting out the most lustful profanities are coming into a halt. “—I’ll destroy this pussy and fill you up like a good fucking girl and to teach you a fucking lesson!”
With the venom laced being thrown at her, unlocking the pure devilish deeds in you and putting your merciful façade onto its unfortunate demise, you let yourself be unshackled from the restraints you’ve been cursing yourself onto and rammed her tight, wet cunt like there’s no tomorrow. You gave her nothing but a lightning pace as each thrust aims to break her in half, teaching her a lesson and as the cherry on top, to fuck that living bratty and bitchy attitude out of her. Now grabbing the tie that has been an absolute iconic element of her outfit, you used it as a collar for a leverage to further fuck her into oblivion and with this pace, it isn’t going to be long before Hanni meets the end of the line, setting herself up to the top step of absolute lust and peak quality of pleasure—the long-awaited orgasmic trance of Hanni.
You know how close she is with the constant pulsations of her pussy around your ravaging length as you muster up the fastest pace your hips can do just to chase her orgasm further and with an ear-screeching scream of ecstasy, she announces her anticipated high.
“Oh god—I’m g-gonna—fuck—gonna cum on y-your cock, professor! Holy sh—shit!”
“Do it, Pham Hanni—cum on my cock like a good, pretty girl.”
With the last string of her defense now cut down, streams and streams of her nectar flow around your cock as she catches her breath everytime she lets out rounds of such an intense orgasmic high. You didn’t stop your thrusts though, yet you slow down to give her a breather but she looks back at you, wanting you to fully ravage her tight cunt even with her current state. Marking that as a green, you further resume your frantic pace as the wet squelching of her pussy and the constant clashing of both your drenched bodies became an arousing sound to hear as it draws you further to your own peak, inching it closer yet you fight it in order to savor the tight feeling and an ecstatic clenching of her velvety walls around your throbbing shaft. You support Hanni with your muscular arms as you can see how her orgasm depleted a chunk of her energy as her hands became weak, unable to full grip onto the walls as she just became a lifeless form capable of just uttering the most erotic syllables known to man and god, it’s even drawing you closer to the edge as it stimulates you into oblivion, and can’t draw back.
Chasing your own high as you want it as soon as possible, you use her body like you have something to prove to her as you train her with the aims to derive the best pleasure out of it and Hanni’s, too. Even with the orgasm-drunken state of Hanni, she’s able to encourage you to further release in her as she wiggles her bubble butt leisurely, wanting to get off yourself too as her voice captivates you and lures you deep on your darkest, lustful desires.
“Come o-on, professor—use m-my cunt and cum i-in me—please, I w-want it! I’m s-safe so you don’t need t-to worry—ahh—a-about me!”
Your eyebrows furrowed, reluctant with that approach that you may do the unthinkable but yet find yourself thrusting harder and faster, “Are y-you sure, Hanni?”
“Yes! Yes, p-professor—so please, I w-want your load d-deep inside me…”
With Hanni’s reassurance and her further encouragement for your long-awaited release, you trust her as you give her wet, tight walls the final thrusts it deserves as she constantly clenches with your pace, unable to control herself from it as you gave in.
“God—I’m gonna cum so hard in you, Pham Hanni!”
And then, your final blow decimates the last standing defense within you as your euphorically groaned and shoot spurts and spurts  of your treasured load deep inside her cunt as you bury your whole length in her, in aims to fill her up to the womb as she lets out such ecstatic moans with the warmth inside her painting every inch of her walls white with your seed. Your initial response after a mind-bending orgasm that lasted for like fifteen seconds is to pull out slowly and admire the creamy mess you made inside her emanating heat, as the both of you let out such exasperated breaths after a steamy session that no one can possibly top off. Hanni becomes weak as her legs got a little wobbly from your aggressive actions, sitting down slowly at the floor and recovering herself from the earlier euphoric trance and so did you, letting your cock soften as it twitches in need but you didn’t mind anything and take some time to recover.
“Oh my—you came so much in me, professor…” Hanni lightly laughs as it’s contagious, laughing with her and smiling right after, knowing how satisfied she is as much as you did.
“You too—I could literally feel a faucet leaking out of me when you came.” Hanni blushes from your reply as her hands come down to the hem of her panties, pulling it up as some of your semen leaked out and stained her thighs.
Awkward silence ensues right after as both parties slowly descend into recovery, catching breaths and reminiscing—maybe comprehending too—such remarkable moments throughout the intense session of such intimate sex. 
“Oh gosh—well, y-you proved your point already, professor.” Your face paints a confused one as you vaguely remember what she could be talking about.
“Of what, Hanni.”
“Of teaching me a lesson, professor. Would definitely follow your orders from now on.”
You faintly smile from her possibly sarcastic ways of a response of your “discipline” but you can sense the sincerity deep within her despite her unfathomable attitude.
“You know, we should clean up and fix ourselves, Hanni.” 
The both of you then hurriedly got up as you helped Hanni since her legs are weaker right now (but it’s in a state where she can still walk) thanks to your constant ramming at her cunt for like umpteenth times. The both of you fix yourselves and become more presentable and as she’s about to leave, you chat with her for a short while and then waved goodbye at each other but now, both of your faces emanate delight and comfort.
---
As Hanni is walking her way down towards her friends who've been waiting for forever, probably in the school’s canteen, she notices a small note stitched onto her backpack that says, “Thanks for that, Hanni. I’ll be calling you later for something… :)”
Knowing that it’s from you, she can’t help but smile as it went all troublesome but in the end, it all fell down onto curiosity and possibly, a stronger connection.
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ixiot-ghostrebel · 5 months
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Hello! I saw that your requests are open so I thought, I'll shoot my shot
So, it'll be SAGAU with Impostor and Isekai trope. The reader is a real Creator, while the fake one is on the throne. But! What if they look completely different? Characters don't hunt reader because well, they don't look like their beloved grace and they're unaware that their sweet creator is in fact a real impostor.
But when you look at reader and the fake creator, you can see a total difference in their surroundings. The real Creator - Reader, is connected to the Teyvat, right? The flowers bloom everywhere where they stand, the trees are more green and lively, while there's nothing like this with the impostor in the throne.
So! To the idea- How about Zhongli and Kaeya's (or any other characters you'd like to add here) to see their Reader cut themselves and suddenly bleed gold - while they saw their beloved Grace bleed red and suddenly, they connect the dots?
Ooh, this is certainly interesting, @ilumin! I'll see what I can come up with :)
Zhongli & Kaeya Find Out The Imposta :)
You weren't gonna lie—you kinda freaked when you realize the isekai and sagau trope thing happened on you. Reading fanfiction from the internet, you knew how things were gonna go down. You read the signs.
Safe to say you were not expecting you yourself to be the "lucky winner" of this entire thing. Nu-uh. Not one bit. You knew this was gonna be a hellhole.
That is, of course....you realized that the Imposter did not look like you at all. You were kinda stoked about it—that means you weren't gonna get ratted out, or killed, or hunted—so yay you! Time to chill with some bros! Time to free ball it while you still can!
And thennn... one night you were hanging with some ppl, and you accidentally nicked your finger.
You guessed it right, fellas, you bled gold. And that did not go unnoticed.
Good luck.
(Warning: Might be OOC!)
Zhongli
When he first met you, Zhongli thought you were like The Traveler—you were someone who passed the Celestial Atmosphere above, and descended down to traverse the world.
With Their Grace present, their world has prospered and Zhongi is proud to say that Liyue was doing well under their rule. But when you came, he was a little surprised to see how the earth seemed to connect with you. Flowers around you seemed brighter, precious rocks seem to surface at your presence..and you somehow manage to always be able to get the most freshest fruit anyone can come across.
You were truly an interesting enigma that Zhongli is curious to learn more of. He commits every detail about you to memory. The day the wind conveniently came to the rescue when the days were boiling hot. The time where you managed to restock your food stalls even though so many Liyueans were nabbing them and almost leaving you nothing. Everything Zhongli saw, he noted down in his mind.
You eventually became acquainted with him the moment he walks up to your food stall. It wasn't that packed in the morning (somehow), and it allowed the two of you to get to know one another better. Safe to say your relationship was solid.
And then you bled gold that one night. Zhongli eyes your blood with wide expressions, before immediately excusing the both of you out of the situation.
He cannot believe that the person that sits on the Creator's Throne was not the Creator. He's constantly being bombarded with the "Creator" and their meetings, while you were just selling goods on the streets of Liyue.
"...Your Grace..." Zhongli looks at you as he puts a bandage over your finger. "...Truly, we have all been deceived." And while you're glad that he wasn't suggesting you start up a riot, you were kind of worried about what he'll do to the Imposter the next time Zhongli sees him.
Safe to say he did have a "Chat" with them that consisted of a meteor and a lot of "I will have Order!" voicelines repeating over and over again.
Kaeya
When you got plopped into Mondstadt, somehow, the winds started becoming more gentle and a lot more carefree. Everyone saw this as a sign of Barbatos, you saw this as a sign of the world trying to rat you out or something.
You decided to get a job at the Tavern to get info, and boom you meet Kaeya. You should've expected this when you got a job at Angel's Share, because this hottie bro is very much interested on your merchandise.
Safe to say, though, Kaeya was very interested in you. Like Zhongli, he takes note of your every move. But, unlike Zhongli, Kaeya's trying to see how your...unique superpowers work, and how they can be used to help protect Mondstadt—assuming he manages to convince you to join.
Kaeya is very talkative in the Tavern, so he usually talks to the bartenders. Diluc is pulling his hair out to see how much info Kaeya's spilling to you during your shifts, half of which are just boasting about the Knights of Favonius.
When you nicked your finger, though, you knew things were going down. It didn't help that Kaeya noticed. His eyes widen for a fraction, before he stands up and suggests that you both should take a walk around the streets of Mondstadt when your shift was done.
You agree, seeing as there's no way out of this, and quickly grab a bandaid to patch up the scratch. Once you were both out, Kaeya speaks first, in a low tone.
"My...I never knew the Almighty Creator could be this sneaky, to have an imposter sit on the throne while they serve cups at my favorite tavern." You look at him incredulously. He took the situation to praise you to make himself sound like he was blessed?
Good sir, this was the opposite of how your life got thrown upside down when you entered Teyvat. Then again, this sounded a lot better than getting killed, so you'll take it as a win. For now.
Kaeya promises to keep this a secret, but safe to say Diluc is rubbing his temples when he hears the Calvary Captain himself trying to offer you a position in the Knights of Favonius, saying you had potential and whatnot.
Honestly, he just wants to spend more time with you outside of the tavern.
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Why the heck did this take SO MUCH LONGER than I expected sobbing. Sorry y'all—istg life is hitting me like Truck-Kun.
Also one more thing: Furina is my new child now. She and Fremmi are my Fontantian Children. Love 'em both too much ppl will have to pry them out of my cold-dead hands.
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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xxlelaxx · 2 years
Text
So this might've not been a flare up
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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There are so many fics out there where Danny is either adopted by or the biological son of Bruce. In many of these he might have an existential crisis but other wise he is fine and happy to be part of the BatFam. Where are the ones where he fights against this just doesn't want to connect with Bruce of the rest of the family.
One: Bruce is a billionaire and Danny has had some bad experience with Vlad trying to adopt/get him as a son. So even if Bruce is one of "the good ones" Danny does't like billionaires.
Two: Danny for the most part grew up in a mostly normal family and home, with two Parents and a sibling. Most of the BatFam were only children and parents are dead or came from dysfunctional homes. I think Duke is the only one who really had a normal childhood.
Three: The Fenton family is pretty openly affectionate with each other and are pretty normal emotionally. Danny has a great relationship with all of them (Danny went evil in the timeline where they all died). Most of the Batfam is emotionally constipated.
Four: Danny is used to his boundaries being respected. I don't think that the Batfam is great at that. With Bruce needing to know everything, Tim's stalking tendencies, Barbra's hacking, just to name the obvious.
Danny knew that he was adopted into the Fentons. His parents had never hidden it from him, but they never treated him as anything besides their child.
He had come into their lives one day when one of Maddie's old high school friends had called, bawling that she had gotten pregnant and that her husband wasn't the father. He had discovered the truth and thrown her out, leaving her pregnant and alone on the streets of Gotham.
Maddie had been furious at the affair- she hated disloyalty- but had decided to help her only for the baby's sake.
She had driven over multiple state lines back to her home city to pick up the friend only to find out she had taken her life and left her newborn son to Maddie. While Maddie had been able to escape the hellhole that was Gotham, Rebecca never got the chance, not with her average intelligence.
In high school, the two were as close as sisters until Rebecca fell into the whisky bottles her father carelessly left around. She blossomed into a beautiful woman upon their graduation- more so than Maddie-, turning from a sweet homebody into someone who got into exclusive parties and powerful men.
Maddie had slowly drifted away from her, so far away at college, and Rebecca fell further and further into the party scene. It was a surprise that she settled down for marriage and Maddie truly believed that she had been happy with her husband.
That's why Danny was such a surprise. Maddie did not know who Danny's biological father was, but she did not care. Not after they placed the sobbing infant into her arms, and she realized that she was his mother now.
She immediately phoned Jack to tell him what had happened, and he told Jazz she was a big sister before the call ended. They told him the story about when he started to learn his colors. Not with her taking her life, of course; that was when Danny turned fourteen. This was only a few days before Danny revealed he was Phantom to them.
They were first shocked, but then they became supportive. Phantom now had two proud ghost hunters following him, shooting photos instead of guns.
It was embarrassing, but it was also nice of them.
And that was that. Danny is a Fenton, adopted, but a child of Maddie and Jack Fenton all the same.
He never gave his biological parents a thought. In fact, he all but forgot about them until Sam convinced him to take an ancestry test. He had allowed her to swipe his mouth, package his DNA, and send it off to see where his people came from, completely forgetting that he would not match with Jazz, who had done the same thing a month prior.
His results were shocking, to say the least.
Somehow, someway, Rebecca Silver had been in the system of DNA samples, and they had matched him to her alongside his biological father.
Bruce Wayne. Rebecca had an affair with Bruce Wayne, arguably one of the wealthiest men in the country, and they had sent him a message to let him know he matched with his son.
An eccentric billionaire has just been told that Danny was his. He knew that song and dance well, and it was never fun to dance to. Danny could only stare at the results with dread as Sam apologized profoundly.
"Maybe he won't see it." Tucker tried. "I mean, Wayne is probably so busy with rich people stuff he doesn't have time to even look at his emails. Especially ones that will come in spam since it's comersolized."
"Yeah, Maybe" Danny doesn't think he's that lucky.
A month later, the Fenton's home phone rings. His parents are working on a new invention on the dinning room table, Danny is stretched out in front of the TV watching a mindless cartoon and Jazz is crocheting in the love chair.
It's a typical Tuesday night where everyone is doing their own thing but close enough to each other that they can call it family time. Jazz is the closest to the house phone so she picks it up with a cheerful "Fenton house, this is Jasmine."
Her smile slowly slips away as all the blood drains from her face. Alarmed by her reaction, Danny sits up. "Jazz? What's wrong?"
His words have his parents' heads snapping up, zoning in on their daughter's rapidly growing destress. Yes, they get distracted often with their work, but the Fentons have always been loving parents.
They quickly spring into action.
"Jazzy-pants?" His dad says, walking up to her and taking the phone from her slack hand. He covers the speaking end of it, not paying attention to the call as his mom hugs his sister. "What's the matter?"
"It's... Bruce Wayne's lawyer," Jazz says faintly. "He's calling about Danny. He said that Mr. Wayne has been attempting to take Danny back and that they are going to take us to court soon."
The room goes dead quiet, and Danny snorts. "He can't do that without a letter or something. Come on Jazz, it's obviously a prank."
Someone at school likely found out and thought it would be funny to make "the biggest loser of Casper High" Danny Fenton, think a billionaire wanted him as a son. Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the A-listers.
He laughs to show how stupid this prank is, but neither of his parents joins him. Instead, his mother closes her eyes and whispers, "We received his court papers weeks ago. We've been trying to get a lawyer."
What.
She pushes Jazz into his dad's arms, where his sister is slowly panicking. His dad tries to soothe her as his mom opens the drawer under the TV, pulling out three orange envelopes. She looks remorseful as she hands them to Danny. "We didn't want you to worry. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. Vlad said he would help, but he wasn't sure what he could do against such a powerful man"
And there, in overly complicated terms, is clear as day. Bruce Wayne wanted full custody of Danny Fenton and was willing to take the Fentons to court to get it done.
The man- who has never so much as met Danny, much less have a right to say what happens to him- was accusing his parents of child abuse and child neglect! He not only was trying to take Danny away but Jazz as well!
Where did this man get the audacity!?
"I don't want to go with him!" He shouts rage, making his eyes glow green. "I don't even know him!"
"I know, sweetie. I won't let him take you" His mom says, yanking him into a protective hug, and he realizes that her shirt is getting wet with his tears. Tears that fall just like the woman who raised him. "Everything will be alright."
It won't be, he knows, but he won't tell her that. He just lets his mother hold him, and when his sister and father crash into the hug a second later, he holds them just as tight.
He's not sure how they will win against Bruce Wayne, but Danny will fight his biological father every step of the way. He will not be his son.
______________________________________________________________
Bruce stares at the photo of Danny Fenton- his son. His boy, whom he wasn't aware was alive until a month ago- and the reports from concerned teachers and whatever information Barbra could pull from his classmate's social media.
Dramatically dropping grades.
Clear signs of sleepless nights.
Flinches whenever his parents pull out "ghost hunting" gear.
Strange bruises and cuts along his arms and legs.
His small stature is no longer growing properly like his peers.
It all pointed to one thing. The Fentons were abusing his son and Bruce would bet the sister was suffering from the same treatment if her own grade dropping, sleepless eyes, and desperate race to adulthood were any indication.
Bruce laces his hands, resting his chin on them as the Batcomputer slowly flips through various reports being quickly dismissed by incompetent social workers who all claim it was Ghost Hunter related and not a cause for concern.
Those same social workers all seemed to have gotten quite generous donations from one Vlad Masters, a well-known family friend of the Fentons.
He hates corruption that allows children to be hurt, more so when it;'s his own children.
"When do we go retrieve Brother?" Damian asks, green eyes narrowing in rage as the reports scroll slowly. Ever since he found out Danny is a blood sibling, all Damian has been talking about is getting his elder brother home. "I am displeased with how long it's been, Father."
"Soon," Bruce promises, aware the rest of his children gather around him. They don't speak, but he feels their protective rage at what Danny has gone through, and he knows they will use every last bit of their training to get Danny home. "Either through the courts or in person. Danny will be with us come summer."
"Good," grunts Jason. "I'll have a little chat with his adoptive scumbags when we get him."
"I'll help," Dick tacks on.
"I'll make it look like an accident," Tim says, voice leveled but eyes blazing as the reports get to the neglect section. He has personal issues about that.
Bruce has never been so proud. "Court date is set for three weeks. They can't weasel their way out of it this time."
Don't worry son, he thinks to Danny, I'm going to save you.
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#399
“Oh man, Fuck!...  Oh sorry you had to hear that call.  Didn’t mean to interrupt you enjoying your brew.  It’s just that my girlfriend makes me so fucking pissed off….  Get this, she knows I work 14 days straight busting my ass on that drilling rig.  I am about to head home for four days of rest.  That’s a 7-hour drive, each way.  So she tells me that her sister and mother are in town staying with us.  My days of relaxing are shot to shit.  And worse yet there’s no way I’m getting her pussy.  I probably won’t even get head.  Ain’t that shit?...
“Oh sorry.  I forget that I’m not with a dozen or so other roughnecks out in the field.  All they talk about is pussy.  Most of them don’t have a girlfriend, let alone a wife.  Hearing them go on and on about fucking and getting a blow job, I forget that other people might talk about something else.
“My god, I just wanted to get home and kick back with a beer and get some head.  You know the kind of blowjob that goes on for an hour and it relaxes your entire body.  That doesn’t even include blowing your wad.  You know what I’m talking about?
“Oh there I go again.  Sorry if I’m telling too much....  I do that when I start drinking.   Do you care if I talk about getting blown?...  Good.  Thought so.  What man doesn’t want head at the end of weeks of working damned hard? 
“…Here’s to blowjobs!  Cheers! 
“Hey Frank! Get my friend here another beer….  Nah!  Put your money away.  I got this. 
“So your car broke down?...  We are one of two taverns for twenty miles.  The other is by the interstate one mile away.  At this time of day it’s quite deserted.  We typically only get locals in here.  That is, unless you are having work done at Mike Larson’s garage.  There’s not that much out here, just the garage, Frank’s tavern, the lodge, and the oilfield’s main office over there across the creek.  Was I right?  Is it your car?
“…That was not a happy nod.  So, you’re here for tonight… Oh wait, the garage is closed for the weekend.  You are here until Monday?  …Again, that nod tells me everything.  Well to make matters worse, there are no available women for at least 50 or 60 miles.  This is what this hellhole has to offer. 
“I don’t know about you but it looks like it’s going to be an evening of pounding the pud.  And when I get done, I’ll use my other hand to make it feel like I’m getting a handjob from someone else.
“Goddamn my girlfriend fucked this all up.  I only had this weekend off, before I have to report back here to start filling in for a bud on Wednesday.  She thought that I would want to spend time with her fucking family.  Sometimes I wonder why I’m still with her.
“You have a wife or girlfriend?... 
“…Huh!  Well, sometimes I wish I was like you, single.  But sometimes I really need to get my balls drained.  She gives great head though.  She’s the only girlfriend I had who can take my head in her throat.  I have a big schlong, and every woman I dated complained about its size.  It takes her a long time to throat me.  Most of the time I get frustrated, and I wind up grabbing her head and fucking her mouth.  Eventually it ends in her throat.  She has never taken me down to the root.
“But I really have to be buzzed to get into skull fucking the bitch.  The part she really hates is me dick slapping her.  As I said, I have a gigantic dick.  Smacking her upside her head with my cock usually throws her off balance.  So does a face slap with my hand. 
“When I get in the zone, I am all kinds of aggressive.  I am only after one thing, to bust my nut.  If that means roughing up the bitch, then she’s going to get roughed up.  If I’m drunk enough, I’ll not only fuck her cunt, but she’ll take me in her ass.
“Right now, if she were here, I would be fucking her in every position in every hole.  I wouldn’t care if she was enjoying it.  I’m so fucking horny.  I would use any woman right now.  I can’t have a weekend of jerking off.  Hell, if there was a faggot, I would use him the same way. 
“And it’s a good thing that I have a faggot sitting not ten feet away from me, paying attention to every word I say, licking his lips every time I mention blowjobs, and responding with awkward silence when I asked if he had a bitch back home.  No straight man acts this way.
“I would ask you if you are a cock sucking faggot, but we both know the answer.  Don’t we?  So this is what is going to happen.  I’m going to walk over there, to the men’s toilet.  You want my fat hog in your faggot throat, you follow me in.  Don’t say a word.  Get on your faggot knees and open your faggot mouth. 
“I’ll give you until I drain my piss.  If you don’t come in at that time, then you better be out of here and hide in your room at the lodge.
“I really got to piss, so you don’t have much time….
“…Well fuck.  I would have thought you would have taken some time to think about it.  But OK.
“I really have to piss.  While I do that get in the stall and on your knees.  Be ready for me.  I swear, the beers just pour right through me.  Oh, this feels good—
“What the fuck?  I’m not done pissing….  Oh?  So, you are one of those kinds of faggots.  Nasty piss drinking faggot!  Oh fuck, your mouth feels good.  You are definitely getting a reaction out of my hog.  That’s it for my piss for now.
“Faggot, see how big it is?  You think you can take it?
“Jesus fuck!  Right to the root with no problem!  Holy shit.  You faggots know what you are doing.  Oh man.  This is… fuck!  Oh my god! 
“Bob up and down.  Go head-to-root-to-head-to-root.  Fuck!  This is the blowjob I have been looking for all my life.  Lucky me I found me a faggot with car problems.
“Pull off.  I said, ‘Pull off!’  Look up at me.  Hold still…. 
“…What?  Nothing?  I just gave you one of the hardest bitch slaps I have ever given and you just take it….  Wait, what did you just say?  Did you just thank me… for bitch slapping you?
“Get up.  Get your faggot-ty ass up.  Let’s go.  Move!
“We are going to my room at the lodge.  You are going to spend your night with me. 
“Pay Frank your tab and leave a good tip.  Meet me outside…  A fifty?  You know what a good tip is, that or you didn’t care to wait for him to give you change.
“OK faggot.  I have never used a fag before.  But damn, that one minute in the toilet told me I have been missing out. 
“Over here.  I’m the last room.  The lodge is free for us roughnecks.  The company pays for our housing.  My room is at the end.  It’s a glorified motel room.  I have tons of beer.  You won’t get any, at least not without it going through me first.  Never did that before, but fuck I liked it.
“I plan on being here for four days.  You are going to spend your time with me and my cock down your throat.  You probably take it up your ass.  I will definitely try that out.
“Now listen up.  I have no interest in you or your dick.  I ain’t sucking you or getting fucked by you.  You try anything like that, and I will beat the shit out of you.  Understand me?...  Understand me faggot?
“And keep up the ‘Yes Sir!’  I like the sound of that.  Here we are.  Faggot this is all new for me.  But I will tell you this, I am liking what has been done so far.  I’m so ready to do this.  My cock has not lost it’s hard on.  I may never go back.  Faggot get inside and strip!”
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undreaming-fanfiction · 3 months
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What I Wouldn't Do
This fanfiction is a Valentine's Day exchange gift for the lovely @henderdads. Cass, Eddie absolutely hates Valentine's Day, but for Steve? Well. He's willing to make an exception. Have an amazing Valentine's Day, you deserve it so much!!
Sometimes, it is difficult to reconcile several different truths in our lives. 
Eddie currently has this dilemma. 
Truth A: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson’s boyfriend, allegedly loves sappy romantic things, Valentine's Day included.
Truth B: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington's boyfriend, feels like if the world ever has to end, it should do so on February 14th, for this is the worst day of all days, the day of heart-shaped chocolate that tastes like crap, couples exchanging sweet words and bodily fluids, sometimes even semi-publicly, and don't even get him started about that horrible romantic music. 
After swearing on the Munson doctrine he won’t sell his soul to consumerism for anything and anyone but Steve, Eddie Munson decides to ignore Truth B. Steve Harrington deserves the best Valentine's day in the history of this idiotic holiday and Eddie has a hunch, a massive, Everest-sized hunch, that in all of his previous Valentine's days, Steve was always the one to do all the work. His beautiful and brave people-pleasing boyfriend. 
Then Eddie realizes another very uncomfortable truth. He has no idea how to celebrate Valentine’s Day. He spent the twenty one-ish years of his existence avoiding the holiday, so now he has to do some research. 
He starts small. When they walk together in the Hawkins center, careful not to touch or hold hands because Hawkins still remains a backward hellhole, he notes what Steve looks at. If his eyes linger on a certain flower for a few seconds, he makes a mental note. A mental note means in Eddie's case that he repeats the name of the flower ad nauseum, quickly excuses himself and scribbles it onto his forearm not to forget. He even buys a permanent marker for this. He can't forget anything, not when it's important for Steve.
When Steve asks about the scribbles, he claims it's for the next campaign. He even draws a sword and a shield next to the notes to avoid suspicion.
He asks many questions, most of them under the pretense of helping Gareth with his dates. "I swear, Steve, when he's lovestruck, he gets completely stupid. Not stupid stupid, Gareth's smart, but he can't hold rhythm and we need him to hold it, he's our drummer! So save this suffering aspiring rockstar and tell me, what do you think is the best type of chocolate? Milk chocolate? Okay, and is that like, universal? Did your previous dates like it? I see, a majority then! Sooo...are you a part of that majority?" 
Very smooth. 
See, Eddie doesn't give a flying demobat about chocolate types, he's more into hard candy. He doesn't like cut flowers, they die anyways because you cut them, how is that fair to that flower, huh? To die for being pretty? And of course, he hates the whole EXPECTATION of Valentine's Day. 
But the more he asks, the more he finds out, he doesn't see it as participating in the mindless machinery of lovestruck idiots. Instead, he sees the flush on Steve's cheeks when he talks about dark chocolate with dried raspberries and how his parents once brought it back from dad's trade conference, how it was love at first taste. He scratches out the idea for a bouquet of flowers when Steve mentions he’s always hated them because the flowers are so beautiful and vibrant, but they’re cut for an obligation in their prime. “It sounds stupid when I say it,” he chuckles, “but I want them to live until they’re ugly and withered, you know? They’re worth way more than their looks.”
Eddie could kiss him right there and then. And he does. 
He brings it all together, prepares all of Steve’s favorites with a silly twist because it’s Eddie, and Eddie lives for silly things. It really needs to be his favorites because Steve once admitted to him that most people with the exception of Robin and Dustin don’t really know what he likes, they just assume. And Steve is happy that people even thought about him, he thanks them and treasures those things that don’t mean anything to him. To Steve, being thought about is enough. 
Well, not to Eddie Munson. 
He asks Steve not to plan anything for their Valentine's Day. Or more precisely, he asks him to stay free and available and not worry his beautifully hairy head. He knows that if he didn't say this, Steve would have gone above and beyond for him, he would have likely taken Eddie to a concert with music so loud he’d get a migraine, but he’d suffer through it. So Eddie has to stop that from happening.
On the actual day, Eddie prepares everything. He sends Gareth ("You owe me so much for this. SO MUCH, MUNSON. I actually wanted to watch this tonight!") to rent Steve's favorite movie and goes himself to get access to the Hawkins High with…almost completely legal means, just a little bit of bribing here, some promises for a lengthy D&D campaign there, and of course lots and lots of nougat. 
He gathers everything in his van, waits for the kids and the janitor to get out and then starts setting the scene. 
There are two more incompatible truths that Eddie Munson grapples with: 
Truth A: Eddie Munson fucking HATES the Hawkins High. He wants it to burn down in flames, with only the theater room staying intact. 
Truth B: Steve Harrington sometimes wistfully mentions how he wishes he could have dated Eddie Munson in high school. How they’d share lunches, trade secret kisses in the hallways. He wishes himself and the world had been different. 
And so Eddie Munson grits his teeth, walks those cursed hallways he only managed to escape a few months back and counts on Robin Buckley to deliver his invitation with flair. “Extra points if you get him a trumpet solo, Buckley!” 
Robin apparently delivers because only half an hour after the expected invite, as he is smoking his fifth cigarette - don’t blame the guy, he’s nervous! He’s got a big date! - Steve arrives with a smile that’s equally excited and nervous. He keeps running his fingers through his hair and overall looks just biteable. 
Steve walks up to him and brushes his fingers against Eddie’s wrist, discreetly as they have established. It’s their own version of a kiss. “I thought you hated Valentine’s Day?” he asks and he looks so apologetic that Eddie promises to base all villains in his new campaign on all the people who ever made Steve feel he wanted too much. 
Eddie glances around, deems it safe and pulls Steve into an actual kiss. "It might be Valentine's day for you, Steve. For me, it's the "Steve Harrington Appreciation Day." He winks at Steve and relishes in the slight blush that has crept into his cheeks. “The name is already registered and all. No changes possible or accepted. Follow me, big boy.” 
Steve laughs when he sees a set cafeteria table with something that brings back so many memories. How did Eddie get two portions of school lunch?! The man has to be magical, he decides. They eat together, chat about their day, and then Eddie decides feeding each other is off the table because they’re giggling so much he almost stabbed Steve with the fork. 
They walk the hallways together, hand in hand, and Eddie sometimes turns around, sticks his tongue out at an imaginary girl and sneers “back off! He’s mine!”. 
Steve turns after Eddie and nods. “What he said,” he whispers and squeezes Eddie’s waist. 
Eddie then hands Steve a sports bag he stashed in the changing rooms and winks at him. “What are you waiting for, Harrington? We have some balls to toss! Baskets to score. That.” And before Steve has a chance to protest, he gets his own bag and starts changing into those awfully familiar PE shorts in all their green and white glory. 
Steve just watches him, mouth hanging open. “Now I get why I never saw you in these,” he mumbles as he also starts changing. “I would have realized I’m bi like, at that moment.” 
But Eddie just laughs and pulls his hair into a loose bun. “Oh, Steve. You have no idea what those shorts on you did to the little closeted me. The thoughts they gave me.”
“Lucky for you, baby,” says Steve and pulls Eddie to his feet, “this time you’re allowed - and strongly encouraged - to both watch AND touch.” Then he cocks his head to the side and adds: “Well. If you score at least one point.” 
Eddie tries. Fails. Tries again, even with Steve helping him. Eventually, they settle for a quick game of tic-tac-toe which Eddie wins and happily squeezes Steve’s butt. 
Their final destination is the only class they ever shared, history. All desks are empty, except for one - the middle one in the second row, where Steve used to sit. There’s dark chocolate with dried raspberries, Steve’s favorite, and a pot of flowers. Yellow, another favorite. 
“The lady in the flower shop said they should live, like, really long,” shrugs Eddie and moves the chair for Steve so he can sit down. “I forgot their name the second I got them, but Buckley knows and she was asked to deliver a booklet with how to care for them.” 
Steve drags him down to his level and kisses Eddie, deep and long. He’s either crying or laughing into the kiss, maybe both. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into Eddie’s cheek. “All of this…is right. It’s me. You remembered.” 
“Eh…kinda. Tried to.” Eddie gives up and lets himself be seated on Steve’s lap. “Actually, I had a small…cheat sheet. Let me show you.”
Steve watches as Eddie takes off his bracelet and watch and sets both on the desk. He gasps as he sees a coiling pattern around Eddie’s wrist, something that looks like a dotted or scratched tattoo all around, but that’s not it. Because then Eddie moves his wrist closer and he can read all the words on Eddie’s skin. 
DARK CHOCOLATE WITH RASPBERRIES
NO CUT FLOWERS! YELLOW IS GOOD
COFFEE WITH ONE DROP OF MILK
NO ICE IN DRINKS - TRIGGERS MIGRAINES
BELTS AND SHOELACES - GOOD GIFTS TO WEAR
FREDDIE MERCURY
GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY
NO KETCHUP! 
STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM
These and so much more. All of Steve’s favorites, all what made him feel like himself, forever preserved in Eddie’s skin. 
He buries his head in Eddie’s shoulder and holds him so tight Eddie has trouble breathing, but then he decides that oxygen is overrated. “You’re so crazy,” sobs Steve into his shoulder. 
Eddie laughs again into the quiet of their former school. “I know.”
“And I love you so much.” 
He kisses Steve’s forehead. “I know. And I love you too. That’s why I had to do this, you know. Because even when I’m old and ugly, just like these flowers will be one day, when I’m senile and can hardly remember my own name, I will look at my hand and I’ll know all that is important.” 
Steve holds him even tighter if that’s possible, but maybe oxygen is needed just a little. Eddie gently kisses Steve’s head again and whispers: “We’re not done yet, love. Can you let me go so I can play us a movie? Something nice.” 
The arms crushing him loosen their hold and Steve briefly turns away to wipe at his eyes. “Sure. Sorry, I just…this is new for me. But good. So good.” 
“You deserve the good. All of it.” Eddie means it. And if seeing Steve appreciated as he should have been all of his life is redeemed by something as mundane as ignoring some truths about himself? Eddie is ready and willing. 
As he puts Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom into the VHS player, he realizes something terrifying - he’s actually LOOKING FORWARD TO THE NEXT VALENTINE’S DAY. 
Oh well. Time to adjust the Munson doctrine. After all, it might become a Munson-Harrington doctrine one day, so it deserves some revision.
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konaharts · 2 months
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RadioStatic Week 2024
First Meeting
[I'm probably not going to do all the days due to work, but I wanted to draw at least this one!
I know they most likely met while Vox was building a video/tv empire in Hell, but I couldn't get this one scenario out of my head of Alastor finding Vox shortly after he arrives in Hell. Enjoy this mini-fic I wrote about it!]
The sinner was scrawny, a picture box laying on his shoulders, the glass having been broken in by the demons Alastor had just chased away. What looked like a face occasionally flashed on the screen.
The Radio Host's eyes scrunched up in disgust, his very personal feelings and opinions about televisions flooding into him. He should have passed on by.
Whoever this sinner was, he was possibly one of the most pathetic-looking sinners Alastor had ever laid his eyes upon.
Even so, a sinner down on his luck was another opportunity for a deal and another avenue to grow his power.
"My, my. You look like you've seen better days! Welcome to Hell, my good fellow!"
At the sound of the Radio Demon's voice, the newest arrival to Hell turned his head, the broken screen flashing, occasionally illuminating Alastor's face. A distorted, filtered voice with uneven volume emanates from the picture box, words occasionally repeating and stuttering due to the damage.
"H-H-Hell? W-W-Wał₮…I. I. I. I. Kn-Know th-th-₮Ⱨ₳₮ voł₵Ɇ."
Alastor paused.
"Oh?"
"A-A-Al₳₴₮ØⱤ ████████. ₣ⱤØ₥ ₮ⱧɆ ███ ███████ RadĐłØ ₴ⱧØ₩. I-I-It's beɆ₦ ɎɆ₳Ɽ₴, b-b-but I re₵Ø₲₦łⱫɆ th₳₮ vØł₵Ɇ."
This was unexpected. With the wave of his cane, Alastor's powers begin to turn the clock on the sinner's face, repairing it, piece by piece.
"You've heard of me?"
"Ⱨ₳ve I?" The last bit of machinery and glass push themselves in, the cracks instantly healing. A flash, and a now-complete face graces the screen. The distorted voice disappears, replaced by the voice of an enthusiastic man with a filter similar to Alastor's own. "Why, you're my inspiration!" The sinner's face beams with excitement.
Finally, some proper recognition in this hellhole. Alastor's grin turns into a wide smile. Dare he say, genuine, for once?
"Well, well, well! What a surprise! It's not everyday I come across someone who's heard of me before falling into the pits of Hell! Tell me,"
Alastor helps up the television man and straightens his antenna.
"What do they call you, ol' chum?"
The sinner hesitates. No doubt someone or something had informed him about how sinners tend to change their names upon arriving in Hell.
"…Vox."
A peculiar name.
"Well, Voxy, I know a place with the best drinks this side of town! Let's have a chat and get you settled in, hm?"
With an arm around his shoulder, Alastor leads Vox away. Despite his reservations with the...asset...Hell had so graciously gifted this poor soul as a head, maybe having someone with knowledge about television that he could manipulate wouldn't be so bad.
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