#How could you hate him (←understands why people hate him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zorostitties · 2 days ago

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Aurora; 7 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 5k

A/N: HELLO Y'ALL!!! This one is coming a little earlier than usual because I am more anxious to update than y'all are anxious to read lmao Past chapter had so many comments!!! I'm glad you guys liked it so much. It was such a fun chapter to write! Hope y'all will like this one as much! ALSO checks page HOW MANY KUDOS??? WHAT THE HELL??? 😭😭 Thank you so much!!! It truly means so much to me 😭😭 Anyway let me shut up lol enjoy!! <3

⤕ Chapters: check masterlist in bio! ⤕ Also on AO3

Guilt was a feeling Alucard avoided vehemently.

After you reach a certain age, you realize that there are some feelings and situations that you should avoid for your own sanity. One of them – perhaps the most important – is to avoid thinking too much about the past. One thing is to cherish the people you’ve met and loved, to keep some moments close to your heart; another thing is refuse that they will never come back and to avoid facing the present. Alucard knew quite well that this can sink you. That’s why he was constantly busying himself – traveling the world, meeting new cultures, learning new things.

Another thing he avoided – this one took him a long time to learn, a whole lot of grief to understand – was to… get too attached. And yes, this made him lonelier than ever. Yes, this wasn’t entirely healthy. He knew about all that. But his mortal heart wasn’t strong like his immortal body, and there was a moment in his life when he decided that he couldn’t take much more pain anymore. Stepping away from the Belmonts was… difficult, but was what the needed at the moment. He needed to let his heart heal, and the only thing that heals is time. Perhaps much more time than he first assumed.

And then there was guilt. Alucard didn’t like to feel guilt because it meant that he failed. Unfortunately, he wasn’t someone that could fail. His ways of life, his fights, the things he stood for usually involved countless innocent lives, so he couldn’t give himself the luxury of failing. Alucard was methodical, precise, insistent – not to say stubborn. Because yes, he could he stubborn –; he only accepted perfection of himself. Him succeeding meant no one suffered. Therefore, no guilt.

That’s why Alucard was partially hating himself at that moment. He’d felt more guilt in the span of 48 hours than in the last few years.

He almost couldn’t look at Ruby in the eye.

Luckily, she was sitting behind him as he guided the horse on the streets of Paris, so he wouldn’t have too see her for some moments – but her arms around his waist and the warmth of her body were a reminder that she was there.

His feelings were a bit… chaotic at the moment, to be honest. On one hand, he was glad – relieved – that Ruby had healed. On the other hand, he knew that the reason why she got so hurt in the first place was because of him. He told her she wouldn’t get hurt and he weren’t there to protect her, even if she claimed to have jumped in front of a night creature to save Annette. And then there was the other part of him (the methodical, precise and stubborn part of him) hissing that he shouldn’t be wasting time going to the Louvre because there was an army of vampires coming and he had to act.

But Alucard couldn’t tell her no. Not really. Not when she looked at him with that glow in her eyes – a glow of hope he hadn’t seen in her yet. Alucard couldn’t bring himself to be so cruel. Especially not after what she’d been through mere hours ago.

He owed her that.

Ruby was becoming a bigger mystery to him in more complicated ways than he first assumed. It didn’t involve only her unknown past, but also her behavior. It was difficult for him to understand how she was acting so normal after what she had just suffered. Sure, the methodical part of him was thankful to that – he had to act fast; quite frankly, he wouldn’t have time to wait until she recovered. If her healing took longer than it did, he would have a real problem at hands, and if she was frozen in shock, it would also be a problem.

But then there was his mortal heart speaking into his mind, too. It never shut up, unfortunately.

There was something so deeply wrong with Ruby.

The more time he spent with her, the more he watched her, the more he heard her heart race and her fingers shake at the most casual situations – like walking into a crowd or mustering courage to speak –, the more he realized that Ruby didn’t have any care for herself, the angrier he got.

Alucard also avoided getting too angry. Anger was a form of attachment as well; it tied the ones he despised to him. Anger could take a person like him – eternal and powerful – down a very dangerous path. Anger led to wrath, which let to hatred.

But again… it was getting hard for Alucard to keep his feelings in place. Not when he could still feel the now faint smell of Ruby’s blood.

In fact, he thought she was going to die.

Her blood was everything Alucard could feel the moment he stepped out of the Seine. He knew it was Ruby’s; he got quite familiar with it due to that scratch on her heel as they walked to Juste’s cottage. It was so strong that he almost could see the air turning red. It must’ve drawn the attention of every vampire in the area.

And then he rushed to the palace and saw her in that state.

She can heal, Alucard tried to convince himself, but could she, really? He’d seen her heal from cuts, not multiple fractures and mass bleeding. Those wounds meant death to any human and vampire, unless they could drink blood to strengthen their healing process.

Alucard barely knew her. He was still a tiny bit suspicious of her – of her cloudy past, at least. And yet, the thought of Ruby dying scared him.

Not many things scared him.

Death was one of those things. Not the fear of facing death himself, but having to watch someone close to him die. Alucard was far too familiar with the feeling and he never got used to it.

If Ruby had died at that moment, he’d carry that scar with him for a long time. She didn’t even had a chance to live. She didn’t even remember if she had lived before her imprisonment. If Ruby had died, it wouldn’t only be painful; it would be unfair.

So yes, he got scared. Yes, he held her close and tried to ease her pain – Hell, she looked in so much pain, even if she didn’t scream – because it was the only thing he could do. The Universe couldn’t be so cruel to that woman to just let her die like that. It… it couldn’t.

To his utter relief, Ruby healed. Her skin closed the wounds, the bleeding stopped, she finally passed out and slept for a bit.

Mixed with his relief was also confusion.

Her healing was far more powerful than Alucard first assumed. Alucard didn’t know many vampires that could heal from injuries so serious.

What was Ruby?

Why did she have this strange condition? How did she achieve it? For what end?

Alucard wanted to know. He needed to know. Erzsebet must’ve had a reason not only to keep her, but also to want to retrieve her.

The white-haired vampire instinctively held the reins a bit tighter as he remembered Drolta.

Ruby’s face of pure panic. Fuck, he couldn’t take her expression off his mind. The way Drolta was twirling that necklace around her finger. A ruby necklace. Everything made sense at that moment.

Her nonchalance after getting injured, the little care she had for herself, her fear and hesitance…

These things were growing on him in an ugly way.

A week ago, Erzsebet and Drolta were just two maniacal cult leaders that needed to be stopped. It wasn’t exactly personal. Alucard had dealt with vampires like them many times in his life.

Now, however, he not only needed to stop them – he wanted to kill them.

And this time, he would make sure that they were gone. He would personally make sure that Drolta was actually dead. He would make sure to slash her head off her neck and burn her body to ashes.

He would make sure to shatter that necklace to pieces.

Alucard couldn’t heal Ruby’s soul, but he hoped that their death, at least, would bring her some peace.

Alucard pulled the reins and made the horse gallop significantly slower until it stopped.

“What’s the problem?” Ruby asked close to his ear as she tried to peek ahead over his shoulder.

“The streets around the palace are blocked.” Alucard tightened his eyes a bit. Soldiers barricaded the entrance to the front square of the Louvre, trying to keep a crowd of curious people away. The man let a tired sigh. “Well, I guess I should’ve expected it.” He looked at her over his shoulder. “We’ll have to sneak in by foot.” Ruby nodded. She dismounted from the horse first, being shortly followed by him.

Alucard wandered his eyes around the crowd. They chatted suspiciously among themselves. “I heard an attack happened,” someone said, while another person murmured that “my cousin’s a guard, he told me it were the royalists that wanted to avenge the King,” or someone else said “This is all fake! It’s just to keep our attention here. Another faction is planning to take the country overnight as we speak!”

But then, some young voices caught his attention the most. Three boys discussed excitedly among themselves.

“He’s obviously lying,” the boy in the middle said, crossing his arms and frowning. “Don’t believe him.”

“I’m tellin’ ya!” The shortest of the three insisted, gesticulating excitedly. “I saw a dragon flyin’ inside the palace. Then, some minutes later, I saw another winged thing flying away!”

“It could’ve been a bird.”

“It wasn’t a bird! Never seen a bird so big in my life!”

“Your eyesight isn’t even that good anyway. He said he saw a crocodile in the Seine last week, remember?”

“Hey– you said you saw it, too!”

Alucard couldn’t help but feel a bit of his tension dissipate. The sight was... a bit familiar.

He made a sharp whistle, immediately calling the three boys’ attention.

“Do you lads mind watching my horse for a while?” Alucard said, still holding the reins with one hand. He shook the small coin pouch in his palm.

Their eyes immediately gleamed excitedly. They clumsily made their way to approach him, bumping into each other and grinning.

“Of course, sir!” The shortest one saluted Alucard as if he were a soldier.

The tallest one, noticing Ruby standing near, bowed awkwardly, pinching the tip of his worn out beret. “Mademoiselle,” he said in a high pitched voice. Then, his eyes rapidly traveled from her to Alucard, and he coughed. “I mean– madame.” The two other boys imitated his action like tiny echoes, all equally clumsy.

They earned an endeared smile from her. She held her skirt and bobbed a small curtsy graciously in return.

The three blushed.

Alucard inhaled a small chuckle.

“We won’t take long, so stay in the area.” The white-haired vampire said, catching the boys’ attention again. The shortest one seemed to be some sort of leader of the group, as he was the one to approach and hold the reins. Alucard swiftly placed a coin on each of their open palms. “Rest of the payment when I get back.”

“Thank you, sir!” They said in unison, eyes glued in their shiny coins.

The one that looked the oldest tightened his eyes. “Hm, may I ask, sir, what exactly is your business here? The palace is blocked, as you can see.”

Alucard tightened his eyes at him, too. “I certainly see that it’s blocked, and I certainly wouldn’t advise you boys to get any closer to it.” Then, he dropped his voice, his tone picking their attention once again. “I wonder, however, if you were to get closer to it, which street would you pick?”

They eyed each other. The tallest boy coughed again.

“Well, if I were to get closer to it, I would pick an alley behind the Perrault street… most people don’t gather around there, so…”

“...Less guards,” the oldest completed.

Alucard nodded. He placed one more coin on each of their hands. They giggled.

He pointed ahead with his head to Ruby. However, as he was turning around to leave, he stopped and looked at them.

“By the way, what you saw is correct,” Alucard said in a quiet, serious voice. They all froze. “But that wasn’t a dragon; it was a demon. The city is in danger. When we get back, you boys should get your families and hide.”

He didn’t wait to see the boys’ reaction. Ruby, however, lingered her gaze a little longer on them before following him.

A quiet sadness clouded her eyes, made her shoulders drop a bit. She interlocked her hands on her lower stomach as she walked. It seemed to be a standard quirk of hers, besides the one of gripping her skirt when she was nervous. This specific movement as she walked, however, was very… polite.

Alucard didn’t exactly like it.

Not because he didn’t appreciate good manners. Ruby was, in fact, very gracious in anything she did – from her impeccable posture at all times to the way she sat or the way she ate, the way she held cutlery, the way she never raised her voice too much, or even how she insisted in calling him sir when they first met. She had the good manners of a high society lady.

But Alucard knew that all of this was a product of what she had endured. Making herself smaller, quieter, imperceptible. Ruby didn’t do any of that to impress anyone or to fit into some sort of societal standard. She did it because she was afraid of bringing any attention upon her.

The more he observed her, the more he caught himself silently wishing Ruby would… slouch. Raise her voice, show anger or tiredness or boredom. Make it clear when she didn’t like something or voice her opinions without becoming a puddle of anxiety.

That’s one of the reasons why Alucard couldn’t bring himself to say no when she asked to go to the Louvre. Most of the time, she wasn’t brave enough to speak her mind and make requests. She felt comfortable enough at that moment to ask him. And… Alucard actually hated it, but he had also noticed that, sometimes, Ruby flinched away from him and seemed scared when he showed annoyance or moved too abruptly. Unfortunately, he still had similar physical traits of the ones who hurt her so much. The fact that she was growing comfortable around him made him feel… content.

Ruby looked down. “Poor kids. Their clothes are so worn out…”

“This is the situation for most children in this country. That is mainly why the revolution started.”

“...I guess Richter was right. How can a king have a palace this big while his people die of hunger?” She took some moments to speak again. “And if Erzsebet succeeds… she will make things worse.”

Alucard nodded. “Yes. But she won’t, because we’ll stop her.” He pointed with his finger to a nearby street. “Let’s go.”

They quickened their pace, keeping silent for most of the way. Most streets were crowded by a mass of curious people; the news traveled fast, and it seemed that everyone forgot about the execution earlier and decided to gather at this part of the city. Paris was drowned in chaos. Most soldiers were too worried trying to quiet down the population. How could they even prepare for the incoming battle?

Finally, they arrived at the alley the boy had mentioned – and the little bastard was right. It was a dirty small alley where most people avoided, only being guarded by two soldiers that weren’t paying much attention to their job.

At last, Alucard stopped walking in a spot out of their sight. The back view of the palace was just ahead. He turned around and looked down at Ruby, sending her a hesitant look.

“My apologies, but I will need to do that again.”

She widened her eyes slightly. “Oh. Okay.”

“...Do you think you can handle it this time?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be fine.” She was clearly lying. Well, there was nothing he could do about that.

Alucard wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up slightly to a point her feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. He narrowed his eyes, visualizing the path he would have to make.

A familiar red glow enveloped his body–

He sprinted through the alley, passing in between both guards so fast that they didn’t even understand what was happening; to them it was just a sudden, violent gush of wind that made their hats fly away and their eyes widen in confusion.

And just like that, they were within the palace’s gardens.

Alucard put Ruby on the floor again. She was visibly dizzy, so he still held her arm for support. She blinked several times, as if trying to fade the vertigo away.

“It… wasn’t that bad this time,” she lied again. It didn’t look like she wanted to vomit this time, though. Alucard smiled slightly and let go of her arm.

“Do you remember in which room you found the artifact?” He asked quietly, worrying that anyone would hear them. He didn’t want to have to confront any human.

“The same where I was trying to hide in,” Ruby looked around the tall building. “The night creature came crashing through the window. We can use it to get in.”

Alucard nodded, trying to remember in what section of the palace that was…

Then he realized that he didn’t need to remember anything, because the scent of her blood was still very much in the air. They didn’t even have time to clean it. Alucard turned his head in the direction where the scent was stronger.

“There. Let’s go.”

They walked fast, Alucard always placing his body in front of her, walking near the wall under the windows to not get caught. They crossed paths with some guards, but luckily were not seen. He wondered why the hell did that place need to be so horizontally big.

Finally, the sight of a destroyed window appeared ahead. As the building had a double height ceiling, it’d be necessary to climb to get through the window. Alucard gesticulated for Ruby to wait. His sword unsheathed itself and floated up; through the reflection on the shiny iron, he saw that although the doors were opened, the gallery was empty.

Alucard once again wrapped his arm around her waist and floated, graciously passing through the window. As soon as their feet landed on the floor, he nodded his head softly; the double doors closed and locked.

He let go of her and she stepped aside.

The gallery was absolutely destroyed; debris and glass everywhere, broken pieces of the wooden crates, rags of once was a curtain around the floor, statues and paintings destroyed… and blood. A lot of blood.

Ruby widened her eyes at the sight of her own dried blood over the floor. It seems she hadn’t realized how much she bled. She gulped and averted her gaze somewhere else.

“It seems they didn’t start to clean things up yet,” she stated the obvious in a nervous tone.

“They’re probably measuring the damage first. It’ll take them a few days,” Alucard crossed his arms, his eyes wandering over the room. He, in fact, felt bad about all that. So many artifacts were destroyed during the fight… thousands of years of art and history went to waste. It was especially outrageous how Drolta didn’t care about the damage at the Egyptian gallery, given that she came from those same ancient times. She had no respect for her own culture anymore.

“Is it here?” he asked, paying attention to her again.

Ruby hummed quietly.

She walked towards the doors, looking for something on the floor. She tip toed around a pool of blood, trying to avoid stepping on it at all costs. Alucard followed her, albeit keeping a good distance so she could scoop the area without his interference.

Finally, she gasped and rushed to grab something at the corner of the room, near the wall. It was hidden behind a destroyed crate.

Ruby turned around, holding a golden scepter with both hands. Her eyes glowed with afraid amazement.

“This is it,” she confirmed.

They approached each other, meeting at the center of the gallery. Alucard analyzed the artifact she held. It was almost as tall as her with a symbol of the sun at its tip. Throughout the entire staff, there were tiny writings engraved. Although it was golden, it wasn’t much adorned; other than the symbol of the sun and the intricate sun rays in the form of curvy spikes, it was very plain. It appeared to be something used in religious ceremonies.

“What happened exactly when you held it for the first time?” He asked.

Ruby looked down at the scepter. “It was covered in rust. I didn’t even know what I was looking at. Then, when I held it, it got… hot. And it shone.”

“It shone?” Alucard quirked one eyebrow up.

“Yes. So bright that I had to close my eyes. And then… all the rust was gone.”

“And after that?”

Ruby pressed her lips together. “...Nothing. The night creature came in and I dropped it.”

Alucard nodded. “Do you feel anything strange right now?”

She shook her head slightly. “No.” She lifted the object closer to his eyes. “But, see? The writings? It’s that same language. Do you recognize what this is?”

Alucard narrowed his eyes. “Can I?”

Ruby handed him the scepter, which he held with both hands. It was quite heavy – actual pure gold. It was a miracle that the royal French family didn’t melt it, or whoever was in possession of the artifact it previously. He brought it close to his face, analyzing the scriptures.

The characters appeared to be organized vertically instead of horizontally, very similar to Mandarin or Japanese structures of writing. These characters, however, meant nothing to him. They weren’t rounded like Sanskrit, weren’t allusive of animals or nature like Egyptian hieroglyphs or ancient Mandarin, and they didn’t resemble the common Latin alphabet. At most, it reminded him a bit of Sumerian writing, given how simplistic the characters seemed to be – but if it really was Sumerian, Alucard would’ve known.

“You know how to read it, but don’t understand the meaning of the words?” Alucard asked without taking his eyes off the scepter.

“Yes.”

“So, each character means a sound.” Ruby nodded. Phonetic, as he suspected, since the characters repeated themselves over and over again.

“Do you have any idea of what it is?” she repeated, sounding hopeful.

Alucard pressed his lips together.

He really missed Sypha in moments like this.

She would’ve immediately known what it was – or at least, had an idea of how to start investigating the origins of this strange language. Alucard became quite good at learning new languages over the years, but not as good as her. Never.

It felt like there was an invisible cold hand pressing around his heart – like it did anytime he thought of her.

“Unfortunately no.” Alucard shook his head. Ruby’s shoulders dropped. “Let’s not be discouraged. This artifact definitely has magic in it; I can feel it.” Yes, it vibrated under his palm in a high frequency – a metaphysical frequency, like all magic things did. It didn’t reek of demonic magic or negative alchemy either. It felt quite neutral; Alucard couldn’t tell what type of magic it stored.

The white-haired vampire frowned.

“And it certainly doesn’t like me.”

Ruby tilted her head to the side, visibly confused. “What?”

There was a strange sensation in his gut. A certain aggressiveness. Alucard didn’t feel like the scepter could actually hurt him, but the bad feeling was there anyway. He handed the artifact back to Ruby; the moment it left his hands, the sensation was gone.

“Some magical items don’t accept being touched by anyone. Some can only be touched by their masters.”

“Like your sword?” She asked, eyeing the weapon that was still protectively floating near Alucard’s body.

“Precisely.” Alucard shrugged. “Or it just doesn’t like me because I am part vampire.” At her utter confusion, he decided to elaborate. “In magic terms, my existence is an aberration. A half-human, half-vampire being goes against the natural order.”

She pressed her lips and looked down. “...But it’s not your fault.”

Alucard chuckled softly. It sounded like she felt bad for him, which he found quite endearing. “The scepter doesn’t know it.”

They were interrupted when someone tried to open the doors. Both turned around immediately, Ruby visibly startled at the sudden sound.

“Who’s in there?” a male voice was heard from the other side. “Open the doors!”

“Let’s go,” Alucard hurried towards the window again. Yet, she froze in place.

“Do we take it with us?”

“Of course.”

“Isn’t it stealing?”

He couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed at her. Alucard stepped closer again. “Everything here was stolen from some other country, Ruby. They won’t miss it.”

And then, he was holding her close to his body again, floating out of the palace through the window. The sword obediently sheathed itself again. However, when he stepped foot on the grass, he didn’t let go of her.

“I’ll have to…”

“Yes. I understand,” she nodded before he could finish, tightening the scepter close to her chest.

Alucard felt a tiny bit bad for a moment before sprinting out of the palace’s gardens in a red blur. She seemed to handle the post-dizziness a bit better this time, though.

They hurried around the streets. Ruby held the artifact with nervousness.

“This thing isn’t exactly subtle,” she said between gritted teeth. Indeed. An object made of gold wasn’t something you could hold around and act nonchalant about.

“I can hide it under my cape if you want,” he offered, to which she shook her head.

“No. If it makes you feel bad, I’d rather not.” It seemed she really didn’t think before saying that, because she froze for a moment and immediately avoided his gaze.

Alucard knew that if he chuckled it’d make her feel bad, so he swallowed it.

They didn’t take long to reach their destination with their fast pace. The street appeared a bit less crowded now. And there they were – the three boys sitting on the sidewalk, the horse obediently beside them. They got up in a jump.

“Here it is, sir!” The tallest presented.

“We took care of it. See?” The oldest boasted.

“Some men even wanted to take it away, but we fought valiantly!” It was the youngest’ turn to lie with a grin.

Alucard opened a small smile and took the reins again. “You did a good job, indeed. As promised, the rest of the payment.”

Their grins got even bigger when the white-haired vampire deposited two more coins each over their open palms.

The shortest of the group then cleaned his throat and stepped further towards Ruby. He had both hands behind his back and an already apparent blush over his cheeks.

“Hm, sir! Respectfully!”

“Respectfully!” The tallest one reinforced. He fiddled with his beret nervously.

“We got madame a gift!”

“Out of respect!” The oldest one reinforced again.

The three eyed Alucard with much apparent nervousness, waiting for his… permission. Ruby looked down at the boys with quiet confusion.

Oh, this was getting funny.

Alucard shrugged and nodded. The three boys smiled again and turned to Ruby. Once again, the shortest cleaned his throat.

“Madame! We were attentively taking care of the horse when we saw something that could suit you!”

“I saw it,” the oldest one elbowed him.

“But it was my idea,” the short one hissed back before turning to her again. “Anyway, hm, here it is!”

Finally, he unveiled what he was hiding behind his back in an extravagant gesture: a lily flower.

Alucard looked behind them. On the other side of the street, under a windowsill, there was a vase full of lilies. He had to cross his arms and lower his head, trying to muffle a laugh.

“It matches your ribbon, madame,” the oldest remarked.

“I was the one to pick it. None of them could reach it but me,” the tallest said with pride.

Ruby watched the three boys with a bit of shock for some seconds.

Then, she smiled.

Not one of her small, timid smiles. For the first time, that smile reached her eyes, too. For the first time, it seemed that she wasn’t embarrassed for smiling; for the first time, her giggle wasn’t dry. Wasn’t clouded by sadness.

Alucard knew that it was the first time he was seeing the real Ruby – the person she was underneath the trauma, the fear, the anxiety; the person she didn’t even know she was yet. And at that moment, the glow of the golden scepter got pale in comparison to her.

Ruby lowered herself to get to their eye level. She took the flower and placed it inside the small pocket of her vest, right above her heart.

“What are your names?” she asked.

“Victor,” the tallest said.

“Pierre,” the oldest one.

“Oliver,” the shortest.

Ruby repeated their names, then patted their heads, rubbing their hair softly.

“This is very sweet, boys. Thank you so much. I promise I’ll take care of your gift.”

It looked like the three boys forgot how to close their mouths. They stared at her in awe, their faces completely red, their three little hearts beating at a rapid pace.

Alucard couldn’t blame them. Not when his own heart missed a beat.

Three hundred years didn’t make him much better than a little boy, after all.

“Ruby.” He called quietly. “We should go.” She nodded and straightened her posture. Alucard turned to the boys, and they all seemed utterly embarrassed when his gaze fell over them. “I wasn’t joking about what I said earlier. Tell your parents about it. After the sun goes down, do not leave your homes.”

The three tensed up at his words, but nodded accordingly. The short one – Oliver – seemed to be the smartest, too; he was the only one that paid attention to Alucard’s mouth and had a fast glimpse of his fangs, which made him get pale. Well… if that helped send the message across, he was fine with it. They finally started walking away.

Ruby waved them goodbye and they waved back, clumsily bumping into each other and elbowing one another. At last, they ran into the crowd again.

A ghost of that smile still lingered on her lips as she turned to him, touching the flower with care. Alucard mimicked her small smile.

“You just made their day.”

She looked shy again, and it made Alucard regret saying that a bit; he didn’t want her to feel embarrassed of herself, not after what he had witnessed. “No, you made their day by paying them.”

Alucard shook his head softly and closed his eyes for a moment.

“It doesn’t even compare.”

He looked down at her again.

This time, instead of the skirt, she gripped the scepter nervously.

Still, Alucard sustained her gaze for a few more seconds. He… enjoyed this. He liked how her attention was frozen on him, even for these brief moments. He liked the sensation of having the world around him blur as if he entered a parallel universe until she’d finally look away.

Alucard knew himself all too well. He didn’t bring himself the trouble of being in denial about anything. It was also one of the things he learned over the years, for the sake of his own sanity.

He understood why the entire mission was becoming personal to him very fast. He understood that, behind his growing anger towards Drolta and Erzsebet, there was something else growing, too – though he wasn’t sure if he’d act on it. No; it was way too early to assume anything. There were still many mysteries to solve, too much at stake, too much trust to be gained on both ends… and way too many traumas to get through, too.

For now, Alucard was satisfied with these small moments of sweetness.

Finally, he took the reins again, and then they were in a crowded street of a city in chaos, and not in a quiet parallel universe.

“Let’s go… madame,” he said jokingly, imitating the honorific the boys repeated over and over again. Ruby chuckled, at least.

Alucard was under the impression that, if Ruby knew what the implications of being called a madame meant, she wouldn’t be so calm about it.

He’d like to keep it as his little secret for now.

#alucard x reader #castlevania #alucard #castlevania nocturne #alucard castlevania #adrian fahrenheit tepes #adrian tepes x reader #alucard tepes #adrian alucard tepes #alucard x you #castlevania x you #castlevania x reader #alucard adrian tepes

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fizzyapplecandy · 23 hours ago

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The one where you fall in love with a pirate

Hyung line X fem reader

Genres and warnings: short imagines, fluff, mature language, humor, so many kisses

Word count: 4k

I've been on a roll with our hyung line, and I can't stop thinking about a pirate au. Maknae line will be out shortly.

Lots of love, and happy reading X

Hongjoong

Your relationship with the Captain has always been a bit strained. He wasn't too fond of a female crewmate, but his fellow pirates adored you. He, for the life of him, couldn't understand why. Women weren't meant to be out on the sea, and you'd proved his point many times. You were constantly sea sick, the rocking causing your nausea. You hated getting wet, which happened a lot on a pirate ship. You also hated how out of touch you were with the world all the time.

Sure, you cooked for them. You even payed attention to all of their preferences, always making a variety of dishes. You kept the deck pristine, and the boys now had clean clothes, sewn together where needed, always neatly stacked in their cupboards.

Wooyoung pleaded with him to take you in, stating how cruel the townspeople were towards you. Your father was a gambler, and people were after you to pay his debts.

To this day, Hongjoong doesn't know what came over him to say yes. Maybe it was the terror written so clearly on your face, or the bruises visible on your arms. Or the fact that you were... Pretty. Soft spoken, well mannered, and a much needed addition to their ship.

He would never admit it out loud.

One night, he couldn't sleep, so he went out on the deck to get some fresh air. He was surprised to see you there, sitting on a barrel in your nightgown. The flimsy material wasn't enough to keep you warm, he thought. Nights in the open sea could get extremely cold.

Without much thought, he took off his coat and placed it over your shoulders.

You weren't aware of his presence until he did so, and it startled you for a second.

"Oh, Captain! You don't need to do that, you'll freeze!" You were about to take it off and give it back, but Hongjoong stopped you, placing his warm hands over your cold ones.

"No need. I can handle it. You on the other hand..."

He took in your red cheeks and pale lips, your whole body shivering, teeth almost clicking together.

You chuckled and wrapped the coat tighter around yourself.

"You're right. Silly me, I was in such a rush..." You stopped suddenly, turning your head away.

Hongjoong leaned on one of the pillars, gaze fixed on you.

"In a rush? Care to explain?"

You swallowed, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. Hongjoong was intimidating, and you experienced first hand why the called him the 'Sea Monster' in your town. However, the amount of care he put into his crew, the sheer worry on his face whenever one of them wasn't okay... It told you much more about the stoic Captain than he liked to show.

"Well... I kind of... Have nightmares. They aren't that bad anymore. I think being on this ship with all of you helps." You glanced at him, noticing how he hasn't moved an inch, paying attention to your words.

"Sometimes I need to feel present. I need to know that it was just a dream. So the cold kind of... It lets me know I'm here, and I'm safe."

You stood up and turned towards him fully.

"Does that sound weird?"

There was a pause between you. No words were said, but your eyes never left eachother.

"No, it doesn't sound weird. But getting hypothermia isn't the best solution, you know?"

Did he just joke around with you? That's a first. Before you could help it, a giggle left your mouth. You quickly covered it with your hand, eyes widening.

"Am I amusing you, Miss Y/N?"

Hongjoong's tone was relaxed, and you felt like he was almost mocking you, but not in a bad way.

"Ah, no, no! Sorry! It's just... I haven't talked to you like this... Ever. So, you know..." You trailed off, not knowing what to say.

The Captain made his way over to you, now inches apart. He took in every little detail of your face, as if he finally gave himself permission to indulge in his curiosity towards you.

"We talk. You just don't listen to me. Maybe you find me boring compared to the others?"

You flailed your arms around, shaking your head.

"Of course not! You're not boring! I mean, your the Captain! You always tell these amazing stories, and you're so kind towards everyone, even though you don't like to admit it. You... You saved my life that day, and I'm forever in your debt."

Hongjoong didn't know what came over him. One moment he was watching how your chest rose and fell after your energetic exclamation, and in the other, his hands were on your cheeks, lips firmly planted against yours.

You made a noise of surprise, not expecting the kiss, but you certainly didn't mind. In your head, it kind of happened differently, but now that you were wrapped in each others embrace, you wouldn't want it any other way.

There was no saying who pulled away first, but you were both breathing heavily, and your giggles filled the air again.

"Oh my Captain... That was..."

"Yeah... I... Y/N..."

You shushed him, grabbing his cheeks between your palms, placing another sweet kiss on his lips.

That night, in the warmth of his embrace, you were rooted in the moment, and it was the best one in your life so far.

Hongjoong just had to make sure the next one would be even better.

Seonghwa

Of course he had the task of keeping the princess occupied. He figured they'd make Yeosang do it, but he would have probably freaked you out with his staring.

Seonghwa watched as you shifted in your seat, back straight, hands crossed in your lap. You were the epitome of royalty, and you stood out like a sore thumb in the dingy old room on their ship.

For someone who's just been kidnapped and held at ransome, you seemed pretty calm.

"How much money did you ask for?"

Seonghwa's eyebrows furrowed.

"Excuse me?"

You turned towards him, your stance as perfect as ever.

"Money? You did ask for it in favour of giving me back? Otherwise this would be a ridiculous way of courting me."

The pirate stood flabbergasted. A smile was about to make it's way on your face, but you managed to control your emotions.

"Well..." He started, voice a bit unsure. "Our Captain does the deals, but I assume you're worth a pretty penny."

You nodded, and he thought you'd go back to being poised, but you managed to surprise him again.

You shot up from your seat, startling the poor man. The crown you wore was ripped from your head, and you placed it in front of Seonghwa.

"Here, this is worth more than a pretty penny. Go give it to your captain, and ask him if he needs a maid or a cook on this ship."

"What?"

Seonghwa watched the woman, noticing how her expression hasn't changed. She was dead serious about this.

"You heard me. I'm sick and tired of living like Rapunzel! You probably don't know who that is, but nevermind. I want to sail around the world, go on adventures, you know? I don't want to marry a prince, and I cannot stand being in dresses like this anymore!"

Seonghwa didn't know whether to be scared or turned on by you. You were a strong willed woman, and you weren't backing down. For some reason, he couldn't help but feel intrigued. Maybe keeping you with them wouldn't be such a bad idea?

He stood up from his seat and grabbed the crown from the table. Without another glance towards you, he went to the door.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Oh come on! You literally don't let me do anything fun around here!"

"Yeah, well, that's because you get into trouble more than I anticipated. Now let go!"

You and Seognhwa were playing tug of war with your favorite bag. The boys went out into town to gather supplies for your next trip, and you wanted to go with them. Seonghwa was stuck babysitting you again, and he wouldn't let you leave.

"Please! Do you hate me? Do you not want to see me happy! Come on Hwa!"

It's been about three months since you ran away with them, leaving your castle and princess status behind. Seonghwa asked you from time to time if you regret your decision, but the answer was always a strong 'No'.

"Princess, I've about had it with you! Can you please just let go and sit still for once!"

Now, that wasn't the tone of voice he usually used with you. He was accustomed to your antics, and he let you do whatever you wanted, but he never once sounded as serious about saying no as now.

You slowly loosened your grip on the strap, and you could tell something was wrong with him.

"Hwa? Hey, I won't go. See? Here's the bag, take it. I'll stay on the ship."

He only nodded before turning around and marching to the other end of the deck. You quickly followed after him, trying to look at his face, but he wouldn't turn your way.

"Seonghwa? I know I'm a bit tough to deal with, but something's up with you. Wanna tell me before we start a guessing game?"

His hands gripped the railing tightly, and he tried to calm down enough to look at you. Seonghwa knew his fear was a bit irrational, but it wouldn't go away. He also knew he had to tell you before you started freaking out.

So, he took a deep breath and turned to look into your eyes.

"Listen. I know you love it here. I know you love the boys, the ship, the food Wooyoung makes, the strange animals San sometimes brings aboard... But what if..." His gaze fell to the floor.

"What if, one day, you venture out into the city and realise you miss it? What if you want to go back?"

Seonghwa paused, noticing how quiet you were. As if sensing his unease, you came closer and took his hands in yours.

"Go on." You whispered.

"I can't let you go, Y/N. I... You've made me so happy. Even though you give me constant headaches, I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Oh Seonghwa..."

Before he could tell you to let him down easily, he was surprised with your lips pressed onto his. He quickly gathered himself, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, getting lost into the passionate kiss between you.

You pulled away first, and he was about to chase after you, not wanting it to be over, but you placed a finger on his lips.

"I just want to say... I will never leave you. Yes, I love exploring the city, but I've found my home now."

You leaned your forehead onto his.

"You are my home, Seognhwa."

After that, he let you wander off as much as you wanted, because he knew you'd always come back to him.

Yunho

"Hey! Get back here you son of a bitch!"

Yunho never ran so fast in his life before. His legs were about to give out, but thank goodness the dock was close.

You see, he may or may not have gotten into a slight altercation with a merchant.

The man wanted Yunho to pay for the compass, whereas Yunho... Well... Didn't.

Now, he was in a chasing match with said merchant, as well as three of his friends. They were surprisingly slow, and he thought he was in the clear until he bumped into something.

Or more precisely, someone.

The basket you held flew up in the air, and it was raining apples all around.

"I think he went that way boss!" The men were coming closer, and Yunho cursed from his position on the floor. You on the other hand dusted off your skirt before kicking the man in the leg.

"Hey, I'd say you have about five seconds before they catch you, so why don't you hide in my shop?"

His eyes widened, and he quickly got up and followed after you. You ushered him behind the counter and motioned for him to stay quiet.

There was noise outside, and the door of your shop opened.

"Hello there Miss Y/N. You didn't happen to see a mongrel with long legs running around?"

Yunho glanced at you from his crouched position, and you seemed casual enough.

"No, I can't say that I have. Sorry gentlemen."

They grumbled, but soon enough, the shop was enveloped in silence. You glanced outside, seeing them going back where they came from.

"All clear now big boy. You can come out."

Yunho poked his head up, and you chuckled. The tall man gave you a youthful vibe, and the smile on his face made you stop in your tracks.

"That was a close one. Thank you, little lady. I'm sorry about your apples."

You waved him off while he curiously looked around your bookshop.

"Wow, quite a collection. Are you the owner?"

"My father is. I just help around when I can. Now..." You stepped closer to him, examining his handsome features.

"What did you do? That was one hell of a chase."

Yunho laughed, but he stopped abruptly to check his pockets. He let out a sigh of relief as he took the small compass out. He extended his hand and held it over to you.

"Oh, wow. Did you steal it?" You watched as he nodded, expression almost sheepish.

"I didn't bring any money with me, and I know my Captain wouldn't let me go back for it because we're in a hurry, so..."

He trailed off, but you got his point.

"Ahh... I see. Well, in that case you might want to hurry to your ship before Mister Jung finds you."

His eyes widened and he rushed past you towards the door. You were almost sad to see him go.

"Thank you, again. I wish you all the best!"

He was out before you could reply, but you followed after him to watch as he ran down the street, an apple from your basket in his hand as well.

"What a silly boy..."

It's been about a month since your encounter with the gentle giant, as you called him. You couldn't stop thinking about his handsome face, and it made you sad every time. You figured he was a pirate by the way he dressed, and he only confirmed it when he mentioned his ship.

Your father always knew you were a free spirit, and he was sad you chose to stay in the city and spend your days in the bookstore. He knew you felt uneasy about leaving him, but he couldn't convince you to change your mind. That is, until he found a young man curiously peeking through the shop window.

The tall man came inside, and he could sense his nervousness in the air.

"Hello there... Is... Is the little lady somewhere around here?"

Your father smiled. "Oh, my daughter. She went out to get us some fruit. You're welcome to wait inside."

Yunho nodded, and went over to one of the shelves to browse. It didn't take long for you to return, and you almost dropped the basket of pears you were holding.

"Oh..."

Yunho turned towards you, a big smile spreading across his face.

"Hey there! Long time no see!"

You glanced at your father, and he nodded slightly before smirking. After that, he stood up and went to the back to give you some privacy.

"Yeah, long time... What are you doing here?"

You placed the pears on the counter, offering one to... Well you didn't know his name.

"Well, I... I had to go and settle my debt with Mister Jung. I also..."

He took the fruit from your hand, fingers brushing yours. You looked into each other's eyes, unconsciously coming closer.

"I had to see you again. I know it might sound crazy, but I can't stop thinking about you, little lady."

Yunho leaned in slightly, his voice almost a whisper.

"What's your name? I need to know the name of the girl of my dreams. Mine's Yunho."

"I'm Y/N." You managed to mumble, eyes still fixated on his.

"Say, you two, why don't you go back to our house and start packing Y/N's bags?"

You let out a startled noise, and turned around to look at your father. He was standing behind the counter, a wide smile gracing his features.

"Dad? What..."

"Yunho, I assume you're here to ask my daughter to come with you, is that right? I know how you pirates get."

Yunho stood frozen, surprised at how easily her dad got him figured out. He was right, he did come to ask Y/N to travel with him. His life was on the sea, has been for a long time, but she... She was something he felt was missing.

"I can really go?" You went towards your father, not believing what was happening.

He gently placed his arms around you in a hug, whispering into your ear.

"You were never meant to love a mundane life, my sweetie. Go now, before I become too sentimental."

It wasn't long after that your bags were packed and you were waving at your father from Yunho's ship. As the town you grew up in got smaller, your eyes filled with tears.

A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, and a kiss was placed on top of your head.

"Everything okay little lady?"

You turned around in Yunho's embrace, placing your hands on his chest. Without much thought, you got on your tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his lips. He stood frozen for a moment before his arms tightened around you, deepening the kiss.

When you finally broke apart, you placed your head above his heart, listening to the steady beats.

"Everything is perfect."

Yeosang

Yeosang loved being a pirate. He loved the freedom he had, the laughs he shared with his shipmates, who he now viewed as brothers. He loved everything about his life. Apart from the times they had to wreak havoc in a random town.

They tried to bring justice where they could. Once they found out about groups doing harm on the townspeople, they intervened in no time.

Tonight wasn't any different from their usual agenda, if he excluded you.

They were seated in one of the more problematic bars in town. Hongjoong told them the job was simple - Get in, take out the bad guys, get out. There was one man, Han Sehun, and he was known for intimidating the lower class people into giving him their well earned salaries, as well as harassing women.

That's where you came into the picture. You were working the night shift at the bar tonight, and you hated it every time. Sehun was adamant on making your life hell, but you couldn't complain because you needed the job. Your parents were long gone, and there wasn't anyone in town you were close with.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice the handsome men making an entrance. You could tell there was something different about them.

One in particular caught your eyes the most. He had a blonde mullet, and he seemed like the calmest of them all. As if he could sense your eyes on him, he turned his head, but you managed to look away in time.

"Yeosang, stop staring at the pretty lady. You'll scare her." Wooyoung chuckled after pinching Yeosang's cheek.

He swatted his hand away.

"I'm not staring."

Wooyoung smirked. "Sure you aren't."

Without another word, Wooyoung stood up and went over to you. He smiled at you, showing you eight fingers and motioning to their table. You nodded, giving him a thumbs up.

Yeosang was nervous all of the sudden. He knew they were on a mission, so what was Wooyoung doing.

"Relax, Sangie. The pretty lady will bring us some drinks in a second."

Hongjoong pinched his nose.

"Now is not the time for drinking, or staring at girls. Get it together."

Wooyoung held his hands up, and Yeosang remained still. That is, until you came to their table holding a tray with eight beers.

"Here you go boys. Enjoy!"

His mind must be playing tricks on him, because it seemed like your eyes only met his before you went back to the counter.

Before he could dwell on it, Sehun started causing a scene at the bar.

"Oh come on Y/N, when will you give it up? You know I can show you a good time."

"For the last time, please leave me alone."

"Still trying to act tough? Just wait until I fuck the attitude right out of you!"

Yeosang had the sudden urge to march over an fuck up his face, but Hongjoong's glare kept him at bay. They had to wait for the perfect timing, otherwise they would cause a ruckus.

The night went on like this with Sehun's comments getting even worse. Yeosang felt immense relief when he saw Hongjoong nodd, and the plan went into action.

Soon enough, the bar was turned over upside-down. Sehun was in handcuffs, and you were hiding under your counter. The officers would be here any moment, and the boys had to run.

Yeosang glanced at his crewmates as they went down an alley, his chest tightening.

"I have to do something quickly. Meet you at the ship."

"Yeosang!" Their voices were now faded into the background as he re-entered the place they wrecked.

"Hello? Miss?"

You slowly lifted your head from your hiding place, glancing at the handsome man from earlier. You should have known they were pirates, his outfit basically screamed it in your face.

"H-Hi?"

He turned his head towards your voice, a small smile gracing his features.

"There you are. Come out, I won't hurt you."

For some reason, you believed him. After all, they managed to take away your town's biggest problem.

You carefully got up, and he could tell your dress was ripped in some places. Probably got caught in one of the broken tables.

"What do you want?" You asked, voice trembling.

He approached you, paying attention to your body language. You were still apprehensive, but slowly loosening up.

"I'll cut right to the chase. Want to come on a little trip with me?"

It's been about a month since you took Yeosang up on his offer. You weren't sure what came over you to say yes so quickly, but you felt like he was trustworthy.

Honestly, you didn't have much left in the town, and you felt like you weren't leaving anyone behind. You only gained another family, a bit rowdy, but definitely lovely and supportive.

You also gained something else along the way, and you hoped Yeosang was feeling the same.

"Hey there treasure. What's got your head in the clouds?"

His voice brought you out of your daydream, and you could feel him beside you, gripping the railing. The sea was calmer than usual, giving you a sense of peace.

"Oh, nothing much. Just thinking about you."

Yeosang let out a startled noise.

"M-Me?"

You turned to look at him, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks.

"Yeah, you. I don't think I ever thanked you properly for taking me away from my miserable life."

Yeosang stayed silent, observing your expression. You looked... Happy.

"So, forgive me if I'm reading this wrong, but I just can't hold it in."

Before he could get a word in, you placed a kiss on his cheek, lightly catching his lips. It took him off guard, but he wanted to make sure you knew the feelings were mutual.

So, as you went to pull away, he grabbed your waist and placed a proper kiss on your lips.

You just looked at each other, smiles stretched out from ear to ear.

"I can't hold it in either."

#ateez #ateez imagines #fluff #imagine #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #pirate au #ateez pirate au #ateez x female reader #mature language #kisses #short imagine

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blade287 · 1 day ago

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Stalker hcs - Lawrence and Ren

Slight NSFW, stalking, kidnapping

Lawrence;

- Very careful about following you. Likes to keep his distance and will be deterred if you're around other people. If you're alone or it's late at night, he'll be less cautious.

- Has your routine written in notes and will research the places you go frequently. If the place is public, he may 'show up' on occasion, but will avoid getting too close. Will get anxious if you don't follow or have an unpredictable routine.

- If you work in retail or customer service, you might notice him during your shifts (mostly in passing, but sometimes he'll stick around). Maybe he'll muster up the courage to approach you one day... Or not. He's shy!

- Will lurk around your house whenever he can, peeking through your windows if he thinks he won't be spotted. Would be pretty disappointed if your curtains were closed.

- If he's absolutely certain you aren't home, he may try and sneak in. If he does, he'll make sure to leave as little evidence as possible, he does not want to be caught.

- Doesn't like seeing you with other people and will get progressively more jealous if you're with them often.

- Likes to leave you small gifts. You'll often find trinkets or dried flowers, sometimes with short notes (something simple usually, like "have a nice day"). If you're sad or sick, he'll leave them more often. He doesn't have the money to get you anything expensive

- Closet perv. He'll go through your laundry or underwear and jerk off to your scent, but feels so guilty afterwards. Doesn't have the nerve to take anything home, no matter how much he'd like to. Clothes you throw away however... He will absolutely take those.

- If you were to call him out or catch him in the act, he'd panic. He'd get very defensive and deny it, and if that doesn't work, he'd get violent.

- Would spend months planning a kidnapping (because there's no way you'd willingly go with him, right?), but the longer he waited the more anxious he'd get. Will likely end up hurting you in the process, though it would be unintentional.

Ren;

- Much less careful. It won't be obvious he's following you, but it'll be much more noticeable than Lawrence. You might actually spot him if you're quick enough.

- Has your routine memorised and will show up almost everywhere you go, regardless of if the place is public or not. Will 'wander' into the wrong bathroom or a restricted area just to follow you. The more you notice him the happier he is.

- If you work retail or customer service, he'd be a regular. Always asking for you over other workers and may even refuse help if you're not available. More than happy to chat with you and often tries to make small talk.

- Stalks your social medias and has all your posts saved. If you have photos of yourself, he'll jerk off to them.

- Will find a way to break into your home, no matter how much security you have. He's small and nimble so will squeeze through open windows, or at least climb up to them. You might find claw marks where he's tried to force his way in.

- Very easily jealous and doesn't like seeing you with other people. The closer you are with them, the angrier he gets. If they're in any photos of you, he'll crop them out.

- Definitely the type to steal your underwear, or any clothing for that matter. If it smells like you, he wants it, and if he can take it, why shouldn't he? You'll have to go clothes shopping pretty often...

- Loves to lay in your bed, hug (and hump) your pillows, smell your clothes. Unlike Lawrence, Ren has no shame and wants to leave his scent on everything. If he could get away with cumming on your things, he would.

- If he was called out or caught in the act, he'd probably break down. Crying, begging, apologising, anything to make you understand. He'd be heartbroken if you hated him.

- If he kidnapped you, he'd probably drug you, think chloroform rags or a spiked drink. Best case scenario, he invites you over and simply doesn't let you leave. Worst case, he has to get violent.

#lawrence oleander #ren hana #btd lawrence #btd ren #boyfriend to death x reader #boyfriend to death #lawrence oleander x reader #ren hana x reader #btd2 #boyfriend to death 2

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gayerthebetter · 1 day ago

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Ok I never really talk about stuff like this but I feel like I should because this is quickly getting out of hand.

First thing first....

You don't have to buy anything you don't want, I can understand if you don't want to miss out on watching the show with everyone but (and I'm sure some if not most don't know this) the show will 100% come to youtube and we as a fandom will all get together and watch it then as well just like we did with WAD. Any bits just for the live paid showing will 100% be on tiktok or youtube or something else because someone will repost it. All you will miss is just one showing just like not everyone could see every showing on the tour. That doesn't make you any less of a fan and a lot of people for one thing or another will be with you (Like me)

It's ok for there to be a paid showing, again there will be a free one soon enough so anyone who wants to pay to see it sooner or get some things as well is 100% in their right to do that, it won't hurt anyone that doesn't want to pay and well that's that really it's not something deep to hate dan and phil over, in fact it's just a way to take their shows and try and pay off the recording so they can make it free on youtube.

Tours like TATINOF and II recordings were done with the help of youtube and the BBC but that also meant that they will always have some kind of paywall around them, but shows like WAD and TIT go behind a paywall for a few weeks and then they become free forever.

I know the idea of that may seem like a dick move because they could make it free on youtube right away and we could just watch ads but blockers are a thing and things like what happened with WAD can happen again, also it's never a bad idea to try and make as much as you can with something no matter who you are. Artists will create one artwork and put it on tops posters or even cups, I have seen them post on redbubble as well as have their own shop because you should always try and make the most out of something that's just good business.

Now the hidden fees and the mess with the payments is something to be mad/upset about and phil did post on twitter about refunds and I seen a lot of people get full refunds by messaging/emailing about the hidden fees. Tbh I have no idea why this had happened because WAD didn't have any hidden fees but I really don't think that dan and phil are trying to get one over on us, most likely it's the site that did the hidden fees and they ducking suck for it.

(also really quick but saying awful things about them because of this is just... a lot and something I think you should all think about more closely, there being mad about something like hidden fees and there saying that dan joking with a fan (who started the joke by saying they were going to miss work to watch) about missing work to watch makes him in some way evil or that he wants everyone to miss work just to pay him... he doesn't he was just joking, he made the same kind of joke when someone said they were with their boyfriend and couldn't watch a new gaming vid (something free) and dan told them to put it on anyway. It's just a joke and no one is really making you do anything and when you take something so clearly a joke to the point where you say it makes you sick to look at dan well I did a big post about that and how it goes into why I think one of the songs from the preshow playlist was picked.

#dan and phil #dip and pip #daniel howell #phil lester #amazingphil

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fanfics-i-find-here · 3 days ago

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Do I Know You? Part 15

Synopsis: You’re angry at Red Hood, not Jason.

Notes: so, this got really angsty at the end. I don’t know what happened. I knew ya’ll where so excited to have our boy back, and everything with Jason is fine, but Red hood… it's rough. Anyway, I guess, enjoy?

Masterlist

When you woke from your nap, you did a mild pick-up of your apartment (not really, just moved things around so it looked more organized), then you sat on your couch to watch TV. You hated it. Your mind would lose focus and wander to other things, things you didn’t want to think about. It led to you staring at your hands far too many times, picturing blood that was no longer there.

You noticed that your knuckles were dried out, cracking a little. It was odd. In the three years you’d lived in Gotham, you never had an issue with dry skin, considering it was an island on water. You rub at the chapped skin and realize you’ve been overwashing your hands without thinking about it. Neither the girls nor Jason had mentioned it, although with how you keep your apartment, you imagine they didn’t think anything of it. You were having a serious Macbeth moment that worried you, but what else could you do?

At the usual designated time slot, you unlocked your window and waited. And waited. And waited. Nearly three o'clock in the morning, you startle awake on your couch. You practically jump over to the window, having heard a noise on the fire escape, but you find nothing more than one of the neighbor's cat on the fire escape. It blinks at you before scampering up the stairs on the escape. You sigh and accept that he isn’t coming tonight.

The upset that had simmered over the past few days returns. You collect his jacket from where it hangs by your door and march to your window. You shove it open, shivering from the cold air, and toss the jacket onto the escape. There was no reason for you to hold onto it. If he wanted it, he could come and get it because obviously, he didn’t want to talk to you, so you didn’t want to talk to him.

You went to bed upset and tossed and turned for the rest of the early morning. By seven o'clock, you gave up on the idea of sleeping. You paced around your apartment before you came to an understanding with yourself. Cass and Steph were right, you couldn’t stay at home forever. That, and you really needed a distraction, even if it was only for four hours.

****

Jason had been worried on patrol all night. Steph and Cass had reported to him that overall, you seemed okay, if not a little overwhelmed in crowded places. He was shocked when they said they had taken you shopping, surprised you willingly left your apartment. He was mostly happy to know that you were on the up-and-up of your traumatic experience much faster than he would’ve thought. Or at least a little bit. They had told him that while you hadn’t rushed them out the door, there was a certain relief on your features as they were leaving, no doubt about finally having an evening for yourself after constantly having people around.

It’s the reason he didn’t show up that evening, at least that you saw. He had stopped by in his old way, across the street on the roof, around one in the morning. He could see your TV running and spotted the lump that was you asleep on the couch. White noise, he assumed. The TV would be better than silence. He didn’t even check the window, just threw a longing glance at your apartment before moving on his patrol, you constantly in the back of his mind. You clearly needed the time alone, which is why he was surprised when he received a text from you about mid-morning.

You: I’m going to work today walk me home?

He didn’t even respond; just picked up the phone and called you. You answered immediately.

“I only tease you about technology, I know you know how to respond to a text.” Is the first thing you say. Jason can feel the tension leave his shoulders just at the sound of your voice. He shakes his head and refocuses.

“Sweetheart,” had he paused, he would have heard the audible pleased sigh that escaped your lips at the name, “are you sure you're ready to go back to work?”

“I don’t really have a choice. I already called Jackie and told her I would come to work half a shift.” You're clearly making up a reason not to back out, dependable.

“I’ll call back and tell them you changed your mind.” He states, not wanting you to force yourself into it.

“Worry not, I haven’t changed my mind.” You tease. The lilt of your voice when you get like this was something Jason hadn’t realized he missed. You were doing better if your attitude was anything to show for it. After a moment of silence, Jason caught up in the sound of you getting ready for work, you repeat the question you had texted.

“Will you come walk me home?” He answers quickly, easily, despite how tired he was from his night of patrol and bad sleep (worrying about you).

“Course. What time do you get off?” There’s a clatter on the other end of the line (a surprised drop from how quickly he answered), and he’s about to ask if everything is okay, but you respond, rushed, about when you get off.

“And what time do you go in? I can walk you to work, too.” He offers. He hears you suck in a stuttered breath all movement stopping.

“It’s okay, Jay. Daylight hours, I’ll be fine.” You reassure him. Jason wouldn’t admit it aloud, but his stomach fluttered at the way you said Jay. You had never called him that before and even though it was just a shortened version of his name, you said it so sickly sweet that it got to him.

“Alright,” He concedes only because he knows you might berate him if he asked if you were sure about it. He manages to keep you on the phone until you're nearly to work, idle silence mostly filling the space between you two. He enjoyed learning that you talk to yourself sometimes as you get ready, and you will share whatever you see with him as you walk, a dog, some trash on the street, or a motorcycle that made you think of him. You had rushed a goodbye to him just as you opened the door to Jackie’s. He eyed the time. Four hours to waste.

Jason only lasted three hours before he showed up at Jackie’s. He parked his bike in its usual spot in front of your building and tried to take his time walking. It didn’t work. You were walking by with a plated muffin as he opened the door. Your eyes lit up when you saw him, and you greeted him happily.

“Jason!” You held the plate away from your body as you leaned towards him, and without thinking, he pressed a kiss to your temple, hand on your shoulder to steady you. When he pulls back to really look at you, he finds your under-eyes puffy and your eyes red, like you’d been crying. He’s about to ask you about it, but you were off to drop the muffin. He hesitates at the door, wondering if he should sit or wait for you to come back. You stop at the table and start talking to the customers. He takes that as his cue to sit down.

He brought his book like always, considering he was early anyway. He reads, periodically glancing up like you'll materialize right in front of him. He becomes focused on his book when you appear. You set his designated drink on the table and sit down in the booth next to him, sliding until your touching, thighs and shoulders pressed. You sag against the seat, and he nearly does the same. He turns his head to look at you, an odd angle, but he doesn’t want to pull away. Your hand wiggles where your thighs meet, and without a second thought, his fingers curl around yours.

“Hi.” Your voice is drained, but you look happy as you settle your chin on his shoulder to meet his eye.

“Hi,” he replies, and before he can ask you his question, you answer.

“I’m okay,” you say with a grin.

“Then why do you look like you’ve been crying?” He brings his free hand to press at your cheek, thumb rubbing at the delicate skin under your eye. Your eyes flutter, and you pull your face off his shoulder and out of his hand.

“Darla brought her granddaughter in.” Your eyes start to water again. “She was so cute and just so small,” your hand leaves his to show him, “Her little head fit in my hands.”

Jason nearly laughs at you for crying about a baby, but the way you pout at him makes him stop. He pats your thigh as a means to comfort you.

“Okay, but you seemed high-spirited when I came in,” he says. You roll your eyes and bring your hand up to swipe at a tear.

“Because Darla brought her granddaughter in,” you say it like it’s obvious, like he’s just being silly for asking the question. He gives you a look, and you shake your head.

“Between Darla and baby Claire, the girls, and you, it was a good reminder that life is long and not just the now. Not everything is bad, there’s still good in the world.” You add, picking at your cuticles. Jason understands now, maybe a little too much. He had spent a year trying to take over Gotham and get back at Bruce. A year with nothing good shining through the darkness. Focusing just on the bad will do that. You seem more even-balanced than he ever was. A silence settles between you two, it's not awkward, though. You stop picking at your hands and settle your head on his shoulder.

“I think I'm tired, too,” you murmur. “It’s making me a little sensitive, I think.” The silence returns, your hands threaded with Jason’s again, and he almost thinks you’ve fallen asleep until the door dings, and you’re up and out of the booth and in record time.

The next hour is spent easily. You’d return and sit for a little while and then leave to attend customers before coming back again. At the end of the work hours, you slide next to him, now apronless. You settle against his shoulder again, reading the book with him. At the end of the chapter, he closes the book and looks at you.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you answer, sliding out of the booth and working to zip up your jacket. It's a new one, Jason thinks, having never seen it on you before.

“New Jacket?” Your hands stutter your movement at the question.

“I lost my other one, had to drag this one out of storage.” You mumble. Jason thinks for a moment, trying to figure out where you would have lost your jacket. He had seen you wearing it about a week ago before he remembers. When Red Hood pulled you out of the warehouse, he had given you his leather jacket because you didn’t have one. If you had been walking home, you would have been wearing one, which means it's either still in that warehouse or in a police evidence locker. Jason felt guilty for a moment, like he should have gotten you a new one so you didn’t have to drag one out for storage. One that had clearly seen better days based on the melted hole on the sleeve near your wrist.

You don’t give him time to question or offer because you're already headed for the door. He’s quick to rush ahead of you to open the door. You give him a smile with a scrunched nose like you might tease, but you keep your mouth shut. Once out the door and walking down the street, your gloved hand slips into his pocket where his hand was. Fingers curl together in the warmth of the pocket, and Jason has never been happier.

If he was completely honest, the almost two days away from you were ridiculously hard. You were like a drug to him, and his withdrawal made him antsy, waiting to see you again. Enough so that Damian had pointed it out while they were taking down an arms deal. Damian, who is so much like his father when it comes down to the mission. Jason had denied anything, but Damian had just given him a deadpan look that reminded Jason of when Damian was a baby in the league. He pulled himself together for the rest of the patrol.

Walking with you is much like walking with you on the phone, idle silence, and pointing at things of interest. The walk was slow, even though you looked tired and no doubt ready to be home. Once you reached your apartment building, Jason realized why.

“Thank you for walking me home, Jason.” Your touch slips from his, and you sway on your feet, unsure. You were really tired, exhausted even. It irked you that you only worked four hours and felt like you did a double shift. It probably didn’t help that you had practically bawled your eyes out when Darla brought in her granddaughter, a reminder of where life had started, how far you’ve come, and how far you have yet to go. She had shaken her head at you and let you hold the little girl longer than necessary.

Being so tired, you just wanted to sleep, but you didn’t want Jason to leave. During the time the girls were with you, beyond curiosity, you hadn’t really thought about him, but the moment they were gone was a whole other story. Without distraction, you had become conscious of a Jason-shaped gap in your chest.

You knew you liked Jason, that wasn’t news to you, but this was different. It was a tender, nearly guilty feeling. You felt like, perhaps, he was just indulging you and your affections in the last week because you had been through something traumatic. It's why you were not inviting him up to your apartment (and subsequently into your bed). You wanted to, desperately, having already come to terms with the fact that you sleep better next to him. But you can’t do it, not if he’s just gentle and sweet on you because that’s what you need right now.

He stares at you, and you shift on your feet. You feel like your old way of things are filtering back in. He turns without a word to his bike, same spot as always, and you think he’s going to leave without saying anything until he turns back to you. He holds a rectangular box, only a little bigger than your hand. He holds it out to you expectantly, a slight pink on his cheeks. He speaks as you take it and open it.

“I’m always more than willing to walk you to and from work, but if you're insistent about guilt-tripping yourself out of asking me, at least you’ll be able to protect yourself.” You glance up to glare at him for the guilt trip comment, but it falters when you see his knowing look. Inside the box is an unassuming smaller black box with grip grooves on the side. It kind of reminds you of an old Nokia phone. You pick it up and turn it over in your hand, confused.

“It’s a taser,” Jason says, your whole hand hold changes to two fingers holding it away from you. Jason laughs.

“It’s not a gun, sweetheart,” he takes it from you and edges into your space to show you how to use it. A button on the side to start the electricity startling you and he explains where to aim if someone grabs you and then he’s handing it back to you.

“And it’ll fit in your bag.” He adds like he’s trying to sell it to you. You glance at the said bag, then at the taser, then at him. He seems a little flustered, and it makes you grin; the tender, less guilty version of your feelings works its way across your body.

“Thank you, Jay,” his flush deepens slightly in a way that makes you want to tease him just to see how dark the red would get (or perhaps to see how low it would go), but you reel yourself in. You do stand on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek that he seems pleased about. He nods and pulls back to get his helmet.

“See you later?”

“yea”

He climbs onto his bike, and you take an appreciative glance, having forgotten how good he looked on his bike. He waves at you, and you return the gesture before he’s gone. You sigh as you climb the stairs into your building. You were in deep with this boy, and you had no idea what to do with it.

****

You did manage to take a nap, longer than you expected. Long enough to keep you awake in the middle of the night, which you had not planned. You’re sat at your island, sipping a warm lemon water trying to lull yourself to sleep when you hear the creak of the fire escape. Your whole body freezes. You know it’s Red Hood this time, the noise more obvious. You don’t know why you thought the cat yesterday was him. You hear a knock on the window.

You don’t move from your spot, instead taking another sip of your water, back still facing the window. You wait for him to leave. You had left his jacket out there the night before. There was nothing else he needed here.

He knocks, and you feel your upset and anger flare again. Why can't he just leave you alone? Can't he tell you don’t want to talk to him? You hear the squeak of your locked window opening, a cold breeze drifting in, and then the window closing. You finally turn to glare at him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The jacket you had left outside is already draped on the back of a chair at the dining table. His helmet is off but still in his hands. You wish he had kept the helmet. His normal, hard-set features are that of a kicked puppy. Thank god his eyes were covered because if they weren’t, you would probably have folded at the sight of them. He suddenly seems hesitant, frozen mid-motion, to set his helmet down.

“What?” his voice is quieter than you think you have ever heard. Your chest aches. You missed him in the past four days, but you wouldn��t let that deter you. You were angry and rightfully so; he got you kidnapped.

“I said, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ I left your jacket outside and locked the window so you wouldn’t come in.” You regret the way you're speaking to him. This isn’t like you, but your outrage oversteps your regret.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he says, slowly setting his helmet on the dining table. You glare at the harsh red metal.

“I’m fine. Get out.” You say flatly. This was hurting you more than you’d like to admit. Red Hood was a friend, a good friend, but his presence led to the disaster that was that night in the warehouse. You got kidnapped because of him, and he didn’t even save you; you saved yourself, and you weren’t proud of it.

“It’s okay if you’re not. You killed someone. That’s not something you just get over.” He says. It wasn’t lost on Jason the fact that you hadn’t told anyone what happened with Ted Jackson. He had talked to Cass and Steph about it and had a long conversation with Bruce in Cave about it that Barbara had inserted herself into regarding what she knew from her father, unofficially, of course.

He takes a step forward, and you take a stunned half-step back. You press yourself against the island, despite him being nowhere near you. Your hands curl around the counter edge, and Jason can see your nails digging underneath. This had been what he’d been worried about. Every time he had badged you about how you were doing as Jason was him, trying to goad you into talking about this. He had worried that you had locked it away in your mind as something to deal with later, but he had already seen spurts of it leak into the way you reacted to things. Despite being hopeful that you would talk to Red Hood about it because he already knew, Jason is sorely disappointed when you just repeat your words.

“Get. Out.” Your words are hard, but your voice shakes as you speak them: “I want you to leave and never come back.” Your eyes are watery, but the rest of your features are set harshly. He’s surprised by it. He didn’t think you could look so…cold.

“Sweetheart,” he offers the name softly, trying to coax you into talking, but you cut him off, voice louder than before.

“You don’t get to call me that.” You point an accusatory finger at him, “You don’t get it. I want you out of my apartment, and I want you out of my life.” There’s a light streak of tears slowly moving down your cheek. Jason doesn’t like the way this conversation feels; his heart hurts in the way you speak to him, especially after knowing the blissful touch of your affection. He has to remind himself that you're talking to Red Hood, not to Jason.

“Listen-” He tries again, but now you’re wound up.

“No, you listen! A man is dead, and it’s all your fault his blood is on my hands.” You present your palms like the blood was still there. “I don’t want you here.” Your words are harsh as you yell, despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. Jason feels suddenly inept that he can't comfort you, can’t press into your space, and wipe away your tears. All he can do is stand there and watch you.

You were right, He thought to himself. If he had been quicker, gotten to you faster, saved you like the alleged hero he was, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this. Regardless of his years of training, he hadn’t saved you. Sure, you were alive, but you had taken a life. Something you never should have had to do. And while he was proud of you at the time (part of him was still proud of you for it, but that was his secret), he’s upset with himself for even letting it happen.

“Okay,” he resigns as he digs a hand into his pocket, “but before I leave, I have something for you.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Your voice is weak and choked, and he hates it. He pulls out the locket necklace he had Barbara make for you, and he presents it, holding it by the chain.

“Jewelry won't fix any of this.” You sniffle. He sighs at your comment. He wants to step closer to you, to hand it directly to you, but he won't. He pops open the locket to show you the button inside.

“It's an emergency alert,” he meets your reddened eyes, “you were taken, and I couldn’t find you fast enough. If something happens, press this button and someone,” he doesn’t offer himself, “will come find you and help you, one of the bats. We’ll all get an alert that you're in trouble.”

He places it on the table and picks up his helmet, sliding it on, pulling on his jacket. You haven’t said anything else, only staring at the gold locket.

“Wear it, please. If not for my peace of mind, then for yours. I’m sorry… for everything.” You still don’t say anything. He takes that as his cue to leave. Out the window and down the street, he doesn’t even wait on the roof to watch you lock the window.

He was genuinely hurt, if not a little surprised by how the evening went. He had planned to talk to you about what happened, to help you deal with it all, to give you someone to talk to. He hadn’t expected you to blow up at him like that, hadn’t realized how good you were at hiding your inner turmoil from the people around you. He understands, he thinks, why you are upset.

However, it just made his plans that much harder. He wanted to tell you about being Red Hood. Not yet, but eventually. But if you hate Red Hood, carrying a disdain for him, what would happen if he did tell you the truth? He had told himself before that if you hated him for Red Hood or his feelings, then that would be fine, but now, seeing the blank glare you had given him the entire time. He doesn’t think he could do it. It might actually kill him if you looked at Red Hood and Jason like that. Maybe it just won’t ever come out. Maybe he could hide it forever, right? That will work out just fine, he decides

****

The moment you see his figure disappear from the fire escape, you break down sobbing. You collapse on the floor and curl in on yourself. You hate this, you hate this. This ugly, complicated feeling, you hate it so much. Why? Why did you have to feel like this? You thought everything was fine, that you were over it, that you were dealing. It’s okay if you’re not. Both Jason and Red Hood had said something along those lines. Your stupid Jar rattles, and you wish it was real so you could chuck it at a wall.

As much as you hated the way you were feeling, you hated yourself more for how you spoke to him, hated the way you just let the words slip out. Words spoken in anger were the ones most regretted. You didn’t want him to leave your life forever. You wanted him to come back, to be there for you. Even if it was just to judge your cooking skills and tease you about your pickiness.

He was your friend, and you didn’t have a lot of those. Of course, you chased him off, letting your fear of loss hide under a shield of anger. You can't let a good thing last. Better to make it bad before it’s gone.

You sat on the floor, having your own personal pity party for longer than you're proud of. By the time you stood up, your hips ached from sitting on the hardwood floor. You throw a longing glance at the locket but don’t pick it up or go near it. You drag yourself into your bed and curl into a ball. You feel cold, sad, and ashamed. Ashamed for yelling and letting your emotions get out of hand. You cry yourself to sleep, wishing you could take everything back.

Additional Notes: I am so sorry about that ending. That was so rough. Anyways, next week is a filler chapter with Jason. Yay for complicated feelings. Thank you for reading. Let me know what you guys thought! <3 <3

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #do i know you?#kandywrites #fanfics-i-find-here

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tobiasdrake · 2 days ago

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hello. odd question: if you were given the choice, what sort of post buu sequel would you personally want to see? you don't have to write a whole story or anything, just, what kind of story would you want to see told if it were up to you? in terms of basic premise, tone, or "gimmick" if you'd like to see one.

Probably unpopular opinion but my ideal vision of a post-Buu Dragon Ball sequel would be to retire Goku and Vegeta after the Buu arc for good. Goku's story ended very satisfyingly with the Cell arc and I don't think Vegeta could ever go out on a higher note than what Buu gave him. I think Dragon Ball has a lot of potential for future storytelling beyond Buu but if we're working from scratch then these two characters, specifically, I'm ready to be done with.

What Dragon Ball needs to give it that shot in the arm is to have the courage to do what it wanted to do post-Cell: to start over and reinvent itself.

I do understand why that fell apart with Gohan. Gohan doesn't like martial arts. He never has. He enjoys it as an activity he can do with the people he loves, but he isn't a martial artist at heart. He has no drive for it as a hobby; His only relationship with it is as a necessary evil he sometimes has to engage in to protect his loved ones.

That's not a spark that can drive a Dragon Ball protagonist down a road of self-discovery and personal improvement through a deep, personal relationship with the art. And all the attempts to make Gohan relevant again just amount to giving him free power-ups and browbeating him into doing things that, on a fundamental level, he just hates doing.

Gohan doesn't want to be a Dragon Ball main character. He has never wanted that, and we shouldn't force him to. It's better for him and better for the story to just move along.

So where does that leave us?

I think the Buu arc gave us all the tools we need to reinvent Dragon Ball already. I think the characters who have the most potential in telling new Dragon Ball stories are the ones the franchise kinda just... wants to sweep aside. It's Goten, Trunks, and Marron. Pan and Bra. And our new green god Dende. The next generation of Dragon Ball heroes.

It's Goten and Trunks looking at their fathers' backs and knowing that these are the mountains that they are meant to climb. To become more than Goku and Vegeta ever were. And questioning if that's even what they want for themselves. What is their relationship to the art, independent of their fathers? Independent of each other?

Who even are they to each other? Are they to be a reflection of their fathers? Are they to be their fathers' mirror opposites? Or are they to be something else, something independent of their fathers, something only they can identify?

And what does the art mean to them personally? When it stops being "I'm doing this because my family does it," what is it to them? Is it even what they want or, like Gohan, do their destinies lie down another road?

Who is Marron? Who will she grow up to be? What does the art mean to her? In this world of Saiyans and Namekians, what are the limitations that her humanity imposes on her? And how can she break those limits and become something super?

These are the questions that I think could fuel a really interesting sequel series. I think the key to Dragon Ball's artistic future is in allowing someone else to go on a martial arts journey of their own, so we can watch them grow from a wide-eyed child to a wizened master as we once watched Goku.

#dragon ball

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flaakea-blog · 1 day ago

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Last post after rewatching x men apocalypse

I believe the trauma Charles endured in this movie is severely overlooked.

His first encounter with Erik happened through Cerebro, where he witnessed Erik’s desperate memories and the tragedy that befell him. Charles, as always, was ready to offer love and support, but Erik—broken and consumed by darkness—chose a different path. Given his nature and the betrayals he has faced, his reaction is understandable, though certainly not justified. After all, the very humans he seeks to destroy include his own mother, his wife, and his daughter.

Regardless, instead of turning to a friend, Erik decides to offer a sacrifice on a silver platter—or rather, on Charles’ metal wheelchair—to Apocalypse. He has no idea what the entity intends to do with Charles, but it’s clear that whatever it is, it will only bring him harm.

As for Erik’s betrayal, it wasn’t entirely surprising, but this time, it hit harder because of the circumstances.

Charles wasn’t just collateral damage in Erik’s plans—he was the sacrifice itself. Along with the psychological and physical violation he endured, this made his experience in the film one of the most brutal and impactful, yet it wasn’t given nearly as much focus as it deserved.

Yet despite all of this, Charles does not respond with anger or resentment. He still hopes Erik will see the goodness within himself (which he eventually does—but only after Charles loses his hair, of course! 🧍). But it’s all in vain.

‎‏For Charles, even when Erik betrays him, he doesn’t view it as outright treachery. Instead, he sees a broken person making destructive choices due to his pain. That’s why he never truly gives up on him. However, the problem with this level of understanding is that it makes Charles the biggest victim. He’s always the one who gets hurt because he refuses to set boundaries.

( in DOFP charles wasn’t himself)

Anyway!

Apocalypse attacks Charles in the one way he would hate the most—by forcing him to use his powers to manipulate others, stripping them of their free will. In mere seconds, we see just how powerful Charles truly is when Apocalypse compels him to disarm the world and send a global message of terror.

Losing control over himself was the worst thing that could happen to someone like Charles, who built his entire philosophy on free will and choice.

he was desperately resisting. And when he is finally rescued, it is Raven who falls into Apocalypse’s grasp.

Acopalyps calls out, Come Charles!

Tears fill his eyes—he was ready to surrender himself for Raven anyway, saying, He wants me. But the process reveals a terrifying truth: this was never about Charles as an individual. If Apocalypse controls him, he controls the entire world. We can see the tears in his eyes as he realizes this.

And so, Charles is forced to fight again within his own mind—only to lose.

And then, at long last, Uncle Erik decides to step in. (After Charles had already lost his hair, of course! 🧍)

I think people severely underestimate the trauma Charles went through in this film—the violation, the misuse of his power, the betrayal by a friend… I would mention the loss of his hair, but that seems to be the only part everyone actually cares about.( idont blame them though)

‏It feels like the everyone took Charles’ trauma for granted because he’s always expected to carry burdens without complaint. This is a recurring issue with leader-type or morally grounded characters—they’re expected to be strong, so their personal struggles are often overlooked .

It is frustration that the film / fanfics explores other characters’ trauma in depth that why my post was so long! To talk about it 🙂‍↔️🤍

And thank you.

The first time I watched this film, my attention was mainly focused on Erik and Peter. It’s strange how much one’s perspective shifts upon rewatching. (It’s still interesting, of course—just not nearly as much as Charles.)

#charles xavier protection squads #charles xavier #charles xavier appreciation society #x men days of future past #x men apocalypse #professor x #professor xavier #erik lehnsherr #my thoughts #character angst #not my gif

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familiarscars · 2 days ago

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Drive You Insane | Noah Sebastian 06

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Noah Sebastian X psychiatrist!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. A mysterious new patient arrives at the Grimshade sanatorium and you have been tasked with taking care of his case.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). disturbing environment, violence, unconventional treatments, manipulation, questionable relationships, explicit sex and profanity.

I really need your reblog! On Tumblr, the content reaches more views and is delivered more through reblog and I really wanted more people to be able to read what I write. I'm counting on you from now on, ok?

"If you wanted to take me on a romantic date, you should’ve at least picked a better place," he grumbled, as always.

With your head feeling as heavy as if it were made of lead, you tried to sit up, but the weakness in your body sent you right back onto the bed. Holding your temple, you took in your surroundings and, judging by the equipment and the movement in the hallway, realized you were in a hospital room.

"What the hell happened to you?" Travis asked, settling into the chair beside you. "Do you have some sort of fixation on doing everything the opposite way? I told you to take a walk, and that did not include calling me out of my patients' charts to come pick you up at the hospital!"

"I was in the fraternity meeting room talking to some guy named Patrick, and suddenly everything went black," you murmured. With great effort, you sat up in bed and took a deep breath, gradually adjusting to the daylight again.

Memories of the conversation started flooding back, bringing with them a suffocating unease, as if you were still in that room, facing Patrick. Her eyes, her hair, her smile, the small dimple on her cheek—she looked so much like you, with only a few differences.

"Why didn’t you tell me Rachel and I look alike?"

Rune stopped eating the grape jelly the nurse had brought him and shifted his gaze to you, raising his hands as if he didn’t understand the question.

"I didn’t think it was relevant. A lot of people look alike," he said. "I look like any average blonde, blue-eyed heartthrob. Don’t flatter yourself."

“It wouldn’t be relevant if I didn’t look like my patient’s ex-girlfriend – that guy who hates me and supposedly murdered her!”

"Well, when you put it like that..."

You were restless, not realizing that this could still unsettle you even more. With your eyes fixed on the hospital bed sheets, you mulled over how you could turn this situation to your advantage instead of tormenting yourself over something beyond your control.

Noah had spoken to you after you had irritated him at Hidden. Now, you understood that your presence was a trigger for him—something that infuriated him, made him lose control, made him avoid you at all costs. But it also made him act on impulse, especially when your safety was at stake, triggering his protective instincts.

You had figured everything out up to this point.

Or almost everything.

You desperately needed to know more about Rachel, needed to use her as a weapon, no matter how dirty that plan was. But deep down, you were behaving just like him.

"I need him to be my patient again!" you declared, determined, clenching your fists over your thighs.

"THAT’S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR!" Travis responded with an enthusiastic tone.

At the sanatorium, you had to answer a few questions since all your coworkers had heard that you had fallen ill and been hospitalized. You felt fine—really fine—with no pain or lingering strange sensations. The only thing about to consume you was curiosity.

Everything about that man seemed to mess with your once impeccable judgment. It was as if he took pleasure in seeing a question mark permanently stamped on your face, and you hated that he was so damn handsome. You realized you struggled to distinguish his wicked nature when looking at a body that seemed sculpted by the devil himself.

Despite all of this, you were still a psychiatrist, and you needed to work.

Dr. Steve had organized a group therapy session and, upon your return to duty, asked you to lead it alongside the patients. You were, of course, nervous—you had never done this before. Being alone with so many patients, still a novice, trying to earn their respect, was a daunting task. But the director gave you a false sense of security by promising that a guard would be there to support you.

The room was dim, the fluorescent light flickering slightly as usual, creating an almost claustrophobic atmosphere. The patients sat in mismatched chairs, arranged in a circle that, no matter how open it seemed, felt like it was closing in with each movement. You felt Noah’s gaze on you immediately, like a weight pressing down on your shoulders. His stare was intense, as if he were waiting for you to slip up, hanging onto your every word. The rest of the room felt oppressive, but Noah—with his silence, his unspoken irony—filled the space with palpable tension.

You tried to focus, to avoid looking at him. Not to give him the power to shake you.

"Well... everyone," you began, your voice steadier than you felt, "today, we’re going to work together to understand a little more about how we deal with... the emotions that afflict us."

Trying to maintain composure, you started leading the session, your voice firm, though inside, you were still afraid—afraid of losing control of the room, and especially of losing control over him.

"How about today we talk about an emotion common to all of you, one that is often the greatest enemy of your minds?" you started, trying to keep your tone calm. "Hatred."

The silence in the room was heavy. The other patients seemed lost in their own reflections, while he remained steadfast in his mission to unsettle you—and succeeding. His eyes were piercing, challenging, sending warmth creeping up your neck in an unfamiliar sensation.

"Would anyone like to start?" you asked, running your fingers through your hair, tucking it behind your ear, trying to ease the tension. But you already knew—they were all waiting for your next move.

Then Brady, his gaze distant and his tone melancholic, broke the silence.

"I hate how people judge me before even knowing me, how they decide to hate me for no reason," the murderer declared.

You gave a small nod, encouraging him to continue.

"Yes, Brady. Hatred rarely appears out of nowhere. Like a plant, it needs roots, a place to grow. When it emerges without reason, it's at the very least... unfair, don’t you think?" You posed the question as your eyes scanned the room, pausing fleetingly on Noah’s. "This destructive feeling doesn’t just consume the one who feels it—it spreads, like radioactive fallout."

"I don’t think I deserve to be hated," the murderer replied again, puffing out his chest.

"Alright then, Brady. Does anyone else have something to say?"

The session continued, but while the others spoke, you could still feel Noah there, silent, his presence lingering in the room like a shadow, making the discomfort grow.

He wasn’t engaging in the discussion, wasn’t trying to be part of the group. Instead, he simply observed, challenged—like all of this was some kind of joke. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes… his eyes were saturated with sarcasm. It was as if he knew none of this would make a difference, that his presence here was just another distraction.

"I don’t care about hatred," Mariane said, breaking the silence again. "I hate, and that’s it. Honestly, I think this conversation is pathetic and completely useless if I’m not even willing to change."

You were about to respond, but Noah’s eyes never left yours. They were challenging, as if silently telling you he didn’t believe in a single word you said. You tried to focus on the session, but your mind kept drifting back to him. With every word the others spoke, you could feel Noah draining your energy, getting under your skin in a way you couldn’t control.

"And why aren��t you willing to change?" you replied, trying to maintain control.

That’s when Noah’s stare intensified again. He still wasn’t speaking, but everything about him—his tense body, his unwavering gaze, the almost imperceptible smirk—was saying more than words ever could. It was like he was enjoying watching you try to maintain order. The room felt smaller, the tension thickening.

"Because no matter how much I ‘show growth,’ whether it’s real or just an act, nothing will change my sentence," Mariane shouted, voice breaking. "And it sure as hell won’t change the fact that I have to look at your face every day until I finally manage to slit my wrists!"

You shifted in your chair.

This was even harder than you had imagined, and none of them were offering even the slightest bit of mercy for your nervousness.

"It’s hard to believe me when I say I understand you. After all, I’m not the one locked in a place like this, stripped of the most precious thing a human being can have: their freedom. I’m not the one abandoned by those I love, discarded by society, seen as nothing more than an animal. I’m not the one whose body feels weak from the excess of medication or who watches my own reflection deteriorate after being trapped in this unhealthy environment for so long."

For a moment, you let go of the rigid posture of a doctor, of the absolute authority in the room. For a few seconds, you were just... you.

"But I am here. In this horrible place, by the way. I miss my home too, my parents, seeing a beautiful sky without feeling cold, being with my friends, not being surrounded by constant noise, eating something that doesn’t taste like ash. I feel sad, too. I want to go silent for days, too. I feel hatred, too."

That approach was certainly not the most appropriate. But something shifted in each face present in the room.

For a moment, they saw familiarity. They saw themselves as nothing more than human.

"Wearing a white coat doesn’t change the fact that I’m also made of flesh and bone. Feeling emotions like these is normal for anyone. No one deserves more or less, no one suffers more or less. If you’re breathing, feeling is your right."

With your fists clenched on your thighs, you turned your gaze to them.

"Here, all of you are the same. You’ve all committed crimes, you all have questionable conduct. There’s not a single one of you who stands out. So, as a homework assignment, see yourselves as human beings who can, yes, feel hatred and be hated, but above all, try to find the root of that feeling… if it really exists."

The room fell silent once more, but now the atmosphere had changed. It was no longer just about hatred, nor about therapy. Now, there was a silent battle between you and Noah. But he didn’t yield. His almost invisible smile appeared again, like a silent challenge. All the patients stood up when the session was officially over and began slowly heading toward the exit, except for him. You finally breathed a little easier as you watched the room empty, even though you were still in the presence of the tattooed demon.

With slow, snake-like steps, he rose from his seat and started walking toward the door, but you used your anger as fuel and moved quickly, blocking his path. The tall, apathetic man stared down at you as if his irises could pierce your body in half, and his only reaction was to take a shallow breath.

"You can’t just pretend that night never happened, Noah!" Your voice came out low, but filled with firmness as you stared at him with a sharp gaze. "You can’t stay silent and let them blame me for something I didn’t do!"

His words felt like a challenge, and Noah clearly didn’t like being pressed. With a swift motion, his hand grabbed your arm, twisting your bodies until your position was vulnerable against the wall. He leaned in slowly, reducing the distance between you until his brown eyes, now alight with a restless fire, were aligned with yours. For a moment, he simply stayed there, absorbing your broken breath as if it were a pleasant melody.

"And what are you going to do about it, doctor?" His voice was like poison wrapped in challenge as his finger idly played with a strand of your hair.

The way he delicately brought the strand to his nose and inhaled its scent disturbed you deeply.

"Your brilliant plan is to prove that I spoke to you?" He raised an eyebrow, a crooked smile forming. "But did I really speak? I have a feeling that, soon, you’ll be the last person in here whose word will hold any weight."

"What does that mean?"

"Did anyone tell you what happened to the last psychiatrist who sat in this same chair before you?"

"He resigned."

Noah laughed. A laugh full of something dangerous, but it was the gleam of his perfectly aligned teeth that, for a second, distracted you from the real danger he posed.

"Yes," he nodded, still smiling. "He resigned because he became a patient."

A chilling shiver ran down your spine.

"Your hatred for me, to the point where you want to drive me insane, makes no sense. Not when, since I got here, all I’ve tried to do is help you… try to be better than Dr. Rune." Your voice was firm, laden with a conviction that didn’t seem to shake Noah. He just tilted his head, evaluating your words.

"The problem is I didn’t ask for your help." His response came in an impatient growl. "I don’t care if you’re different from Rune. You’re all the same, and I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to tell my version, I don’t want to reopen my case, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear another diagnosis that’s just going to keep me far from the electric chair." His eyes burned with a venomous fervor. "What I want is for you to shut up, stay away from me, and stop acting like I’m the only patient in this damn place!"

"Is all of this because I remind you of her?"

Noah froze for a moment before letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes.

"Sweetheart…" The word came laced with sarcasm. "You definitely don’t remind me of her. And take that as the first and last compliment you’ll ever get from me."

Your brow furrowed. You couldn’t tell whether that was a relief or a new provocation.

"You seem resentful when you mention Rachel. Quite different from what I heard about your relationship with her…"

The shift in his expression from indifference to rage was immediate.

"Stop analyzing me." The words came out between clenched teeth, and you saw, from the corner of your eye, how his fists clenched.

"If you won’t talk to me, I’ll investigate and analyze you anyway, Noah. That’s my job, whether you cooperate or not. And your attempt to drive me insane?" You leaned your face in closer, keeping your gaze fixed on his. "It won’t work if I decide to dismantle your case piece by piece… just for the pleasure of doing it until I reach what you call your mind."

The silence between you two thickened.

"You don’t know me."

"And who said I'm the one who's going to drive you insane, doctor?" Noah's voice came laced with a delicate, almost amused tone. "You're already in the worst of hells. This place is cursed—it will drain your mind, blur the line between reality and illusion… You'll go mad all on your own, just by being here. If you love playing detective so much, why have you never read about the legend of Grimshade?"

"You're trying to change the subject." You cut him off, adjusting your posture, feeling your throat dry up.

"I'm giving you a warning. I'm the least of your problems here, babygirl."

Noah blinked slowly before lifting a strand of your hair to his nose, inhaling your scent one last time before letting it slip from his fingers. Then, he stepped away, walking toward the door with his usual arrogant confidence—until he stopped abruptly.

The air around him seemed to shift.

The relaxed posture vanished, his shoulders stiffened, and his feet seemed rooted to the ground as a blond man, about his height, appeared in the hallway. His glasses reflected the cold light of the environment, but it was the wide, calculated smile that truly shattered Noah’s trance.

"How are you, Noah?" Dr. Rune’s voice came with a disturbingly smooth tone.

Noah didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Before he could react, one of the guards grabbed his arm, forcing him to follow the other patients down the corridor.

The psychiatrist didn’t even glance back. He simply tilted his chin slightly in your direction, a brief, almost casual gesture.

"How about a coffee?"

In the cafeteria, a few curious gazes still lingered on you, and for a moment, you wished you knew what kind of gossip and absurd rumors must have been circulating about you. Rune ordered a black coffee, and you a hot chocolate. He led you to an empty table, yet it seemed impossible to shake off the last few minutes from your mind.

That man was the real curse, not Grimshade.

"How was the group session?" Rune asked, placing his cup on the table with a controlled gesture. "Since it was your first time, I should have assisted you, but I was caught up with a case."

"It was a disaster. If Dr. Steve wanted to punish me, he played his best card."

"So the doctor has social anxiety..."

The remark came accompanied by an analytical gaze, as if he had just extracted a diagnosis in mere five minutes of conversation. That was the worst part of being constantly surrounded by professionals in the field—always ready to categorize any perceptible trait. And ironically, you were no different.

"No, of course not!" You rushed to deny it.

Rune merely tilted his head, as if he had just confirmed his suspicion.

"Understandable. Handling patients inside a closed office is one thing, speaking to them in public is another. Steve might have been testing your composure… Since it was a disaster, maybe it’s better to stick to what you’re used to."

Always so encouraging.

"At university, I dealt with less reactive patients. Here, every word I choose could be a death sentence—one slip, and I might end up with a pencil lodged in my jugular." You blinked slowly, feeling the weight of your own words.

Rune didn’t show any surprise. He simply traced the rim of his cup with his index finger, his eyes assessing you as if he were dissecting a predictable puzzle.

"You settled for handling less complex dilemmas because you're afraid of facing real challenges." The statement was cold, unwavering. "You're insecure enough to come across as… lazy, yet easily intimidated. You have little autonomy in decision-making, and I’d bet even the topic of your final thesis wasn’t chosen by you."

You opened your mouth to respond, but he continued, relentless.

"Overprotective mother. The only time you left home was for university, where you barely made any friends. You struggle to fit into social circles, which explains why you haven’t built any relationships here. The need to speak in public suffocates and embarrasses you. And even the slightest sensation of danger is something new to you—so new that it becomes fascinating. In time, that fascination will turn into obsession."

He lifted his gaze, as if he had already reached his conclusion.

"Am I wrong?"

You smiled, shaking your head slowly from side to side, mirroring Rune's gesture as you narrowed your eyes. Audacious, arrogant, and ridiculously rude. He was everything you weren’t when confidence filled him to the core.

"You're giving me space to analyze you too, Dr. Rune."

He raised an eyebrow slightly, an almost challenging smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm looking forward to it."

You tilted your head, taking in every detail of him before speaking.

"You would have an enviable confidence… if it weren’t so clearly the result of forced maturity." You paused, observing the subtle way he inhaled, as if bracing his mind to dismantle your analysis before even hearing it. "You felt abandoned to the point of building your own armor. You have no friends because you struggle to trust even your own shadow. Your sharp tongue and calculated posture are nothing but a mask to hide the silent hatred burning in your blue eyes."

Rune didn’t smile this time.

"You feel a constant need to prove yourself exceptional at what you do—like every achievement is an answer to an absence." You leaned forward slightly. "Possibly, your inner child still bleeds from the lack of recognition from your parents. It made you self-sufficient, but deep down, you still nurture the secret desire to make them proud in some way."

You watched him for a moment before finishing:

"Am I wrong?"

For the first time since you arrived at Grimshade, you accomplished the unthinkable: you left Travis Rune in silence.

He didn’t deny it, didn’t roll his eyes, didn’t immediately counter with a sharp analysis. He just stood there, motionless, processing every word you had thrown at him.

Then, after a few seconds that seemed to stretch on, he pulled the corner of his lips into a tight, almost forced smile.

"Interesting…" His voice was low but still carried his usual tone. "You’d make an excellent psychiatrist."

"Thanks." You shrugged.

No awkwardness settled between you—on the contrary. The conversation continued without tension, almost naturally, as if the verbal clash in the cafeteria had established a new dynamic between you two.

When you left the cafeteria, Rune surprisingly allowed you to accompany him on a few visits to medium-risk patients. For most of the afternoon, you walked the corridors of Grimshade together.

"You never did tell me if your little moment alone with Noah led to anything."

The remark was casual, but you caught the curiosity hidden beneath it.

"He clearly did what he did to push me away from the case. He doesn’t want treatment, which explains the vow of silence he’s been keeping." You paused for a second, furrowing your brows. "But one thing stood out to me. He said, word for word, that I definitely don’t resemble Rachel. What did he mean by that?"

You cast a glance at Rune, who simply shrugged.

"You two share some subtle physical similarities, but your personalities might be completely different. When you visited the fraternity, did you find anything relevant about her?"

"Just that their relationship was happy. And that she cared about him..."

Travis’s low chuckle cut your sentence short.

"If it was happy, he wouldn’t have killed her."

That was a hard point to ignore.

You wetted your lips, recalling Noah’s expression.

"You should’ve seen him. When I mentioned Rachel, he completely changed..." You hesitated, trying to put into words what you had felt. "It was so different from what Patrick told me at the fraternity. It’s like… talking about Rachel transforms him."

"Well, I think you have the perfect opportunity in your hands." Travis tapped his index finger against his temple, a crooked smile forming on his lips. "Make a deal: drop your obsession with his case, and in return, he clears your ass of Tom Harrow’s murder. Simple."

You frowned.

"But..."

"But nothing, doctor!" He cut you off firmly. "I understand that his case might trigger your sense of justice, but life isn’t always a movie where the protagonist is wrongly accused of something they didn’t do. Digging into this won’t change anything for you. He’s here for a reason, he has a diagnosis, and at the end of the day, he’s just another patient."

Travis leaned slightly toward you, his voice lower but just as incisive.

"Get rid of him."

Your eyes met for a few seconds. Rune was impossible to read. His expression was cold and neutral, but something was off. It was too convenient for him that you’d just drop the case.

Since arriving at Grimshade, Travis had been hiding things from you—about your resemblance to Rachel, about the real reason the former psychiatrist was dismissed. He wasn’t as trustworthy as he made himself seem.

You took a deep breath, crossing your fingers over your chest as if sealing a silent promise.

"One last question, Dr. Rune."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Of course."

"Who was the psychiatrist who signed Noah’s diagnosis report?"

The same report you knew had been bought by his family.

Travis didn’t hesitate.

"Me."

Your stomach sank.

"Right."

You nodded, keeping your posture indifferent, and continued walking down the corridor. As you descended the stairs, you could feel the invisible weight of Rune’s gaze on your back.

But your mind hammered on a single certainty.

That diagnosis hadn’t been fabricated overnight just to shove Noah in there.

It had already existed.

And it had been altered.

⭑ @bloody-spades ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @do-it-jakey-baby ; @flowery-mess

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whoredyceps · 3 days ago

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"OH LOVER BOY!" || 28 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day twenty-eight: "we could get caught-!"

ᰔ pairing: oberyn martell x reader

ᰔ summary: there's nothing you despise more than feasts held in the king's landing. rubbing elbows, the scrutinizing stares of those around you, everything about it. good thing oberyn's good at getting your mind off of it.

ᰔ author's note: a bittersweet goodbye to this series and february as a whole! i want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has followed along and supported this series. i love writing, and this was so much fun to do, and i made a ton of new friends through it ♡ i love you all and thank you again!!!!! time to finish it out with my #1 pedro boy (also thank you to @ananonymousaffair for being my oberyn bestie 💛)

ᰔ content warning: 18+ /// MDNI!!!! it's oberyn all bets are off, afab!reader, fingering, hint of vouyerism, nondescript reader, loose got lore/canon

"I still don't understand what this little song and dance is all for," you admitted. "If you hate the Lannisters, why must we attend the feast?"

Oberyn had his hand on your back as the two of you walked into the maze of tents and tables. As much as you hated to admit it, it was beautiful. It was no Martell festivity, but you admired the decor all the same.

"Doran insists we still remain pleasant for the sake of our people. Shake hands, kiss ass, all in the name of peace." Oberyn spoke under his breath; he nodded to those he knew as the two of you weaved through the crowd.

"And that means we are the ones to do the ass kissing?" You asked with a huff. You had learned many things during your time with the prince, but no amount of etiquette could hold back your snark.

"Only for this feast, then we'll be back home before you know it. You know how much I detest the King's Landing anyways," Oberyn sighed. "The only thing I hate more is a Lannister."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop yourself. Next time, you'd drag Doran by his chair and make him deal with the consequences of peace. Even Oberyn's touch couldn't help— not when you had to defend your very existence.

Among the rumor mills, everyone knew of the Dornish prince and his way around the bedroom. When you became his partner, the word began to spread that you had been corrupted.

Once a 'proud product of the North', now you were known as the whore prince's cockwarmer. Nothing got under your skin more, the idea that you were boiled down to some thing Oberyn kept around. Your value was inherently linked with the prince.

And so what if you did warm his cock? You were more than that. You were more than anything they said about you. While you knew that, and Oberyn was more than eager to remind you of that, it still made your blood boil to know that people had reduced you to something lower than the shit on their shoes.

You remained silent at Oberyn's side. While that was not who you were, you also understood the importance of your reputation. Anything you did reflected back onto your partner, and that alone kept your mouth shut. Even in front of Cersei, you gave her a tight lipped smile and bowed when the time called for it.

"If I smile one more time, I believe my lips may fall off," you muttered in Oberyn's ear. The two of you moved to the outskirts of the feast, closer to the edge of the nearby brush. While you enjoyed the desert and arid land you called home, you did take to the greenery that surrounded you.

"We can't have that," Oberyn tutted. "I enjoy those lips far too much." He hooked a finger under your chin and tugged your lips towards his. You let yourself loosen a bit, your thoughts lost in the whirlwind that was the prince.

As you kissed him, you felt a new sensation. Something you detested, almost. You pulled away to look around. While no one directly stared at you, you felt the side glances and sneers sent your way. It was a new feeling, something sour that sat in your gut.

You never had a problem with people watching before. This was different. In Oberyn's bedchambers, you were no stranger to a few additions with wandering eyes. Though here, you felt the cloak of shame they wrapped around you.

You looked around with knit eyebrows. Every murmur from the mouths of those around you felt like scrutiny, like the tarnishing of Oberyn's name. Your thoughts clouded, unaware of the hands that wandered down your waist. Lips pressed against your neck, trailed up and down every bit of exposed skin.

"I can hear you," Oberyn muttered against your skin. "Your mind is so loud despite how quiet you are. Care to clue me in?"

You sighed under your breath. He knew you like the back of his hand. There wasn't much you could hide from him— not that you wanted to.

"It's like I can hear their voices just over my shoulder," you admitted. "Their glances are like pin pricks." You felt Oberyn's kisses stop, his hands slowed as they settled on your hips. He glanced up to see what you were talking about.

"If they like to watch, I can give them a show." Oberyn's lips were back on your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as he suckled on the sweet spot right beneath your ear.

"Oberyn," you breathed. "Not here. What was that about pleasantries?" It was hard to use logic, considering the way Oberyn filled your senses. His touch made your mind beg for more, beg for anything he was willing to give you.

"I do not know if I can wait any longer."

All at once, the kisses and touches stopped. Your eyes widened and your expression soured. Though you didn't have time to harp on it as Oberyn grabbed your hand and tugged you deeper into the brush.

After a few feet, Oberyn's lips were back on yours. The two of you were close enough to hear the music and chatter, but hidden by the thick trees that kept the feast secluded. Your back was pressed against the trunk of a tree, his body flush against yours.

"We could get caught—!" Your concern was cut off by Oberyn's hand as it slipped underneath your dress and cupped your cunt.

"Let them catch us. Fuck them," Oberyn spoke under his breath as he looked at your lips. As he spoke, one of his fingers ghosted over your clit. You shivered, the feeling too good to deny yourself of the pleasure.

"Fuck 'em." You kissed him again, this time sloppy and full of lust. One hand tangled in his hair, the other on the back of his neck.

The slow, tantalizing circles Oberyn drew around your clit made the noise melt away. Between the kisses and his fingers, it was easy to forget what had gotten you so worked up. He always seemed to know how to clear your mind, your senses, of anything but him.

Oberyn kissed along your jaw, a silent worship as he teased your entrance. You tried to bite back a moan, but it was easier said than done. He let out a deep chuckle.

"Let them hear you, my love. Let them know you are well taken care of." Oberyn watched as you fidgeted, your hips bucked as you tried to chase the feeling of his fingers.

"Fuck—! Oberyn," you whimpered. "Harder."

You felt Oberyn smirk against your neck before he obeyed your request. As his fingers quickened their pace, you buried your face in his shoulder. Your hand, buried in his hair, tugged at the locks as you felt that tight knot in your stomach.

"What beautiful sounds you make," Oberyn murmured. "How sad that others must go on without hearing them." While he found it true, there was this greedy part of him that reveled in that fact.

He was the only one who got to touch you like this, see you as you came apart in his hands. Sure, the two of you had taken a few men and women to bed, but you didn't make noises like this when they touched you. They didn't know you like he did. No one did.

You gripped Oberyn's robe tight as pleasure washed over you, the sounds he loved so much muffled by the golden fabric on his chest. Your shoulders heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Even as you came down, his fingers still worked your sensitive clit.

Instead of responding, you finally looked up and kissed him. His fingers moved away, much to your disappointment. It had worked, his ulterior motive. Oberyn always knew how to get your mind off of the present, off of whatever had your head in the clouds.

"Do we have to return?" Your voice was low, a desperate plea from your lips.

Oberyn shook his head. He helped steady you before he began to guide you back to the feast.

"What was it that I said earlier?"

You thought for a moment, a bit confused. In a post-orgasm haze, your mind was anything but useful. It took a beat, but you finally nodded with a slight smile.

"Fuck 'em."

Oberyn smirked. He kept a firm hand on your back as you two reemerged from the brush. Eyes were on you, but you didn't care. You knew what waited for you the moment you were in closed quarters.

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #prince oberyn #game of thrones #got #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #x reader #x reader fic #x you #pedro pascal #ppcu fics #ppcu #pedrohub #gwen writes #oh lover boy #valentine's day

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littlejoyss · 2 days ago

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𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3

Stray Kids - Non-Idol! Hyunjin x Reader

Twilight Inspired Fic (but major differences such as age)

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1, 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2, 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3, more to come!

You sat on the edge of the river. Hyunjin sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that it felt overwhelming.

“You asked me why I saved you,” he said after a long silence. “Why I care.” You glanced at him, waiting. “I told you I’m more than what I am,” he continued. “And I’m not the only one.”

“The Strays,” you guessed, remembering the name you’d overheard before.

He nodded, his fingers idly tracing patterns on the damp earth beside him. “We aren’t like other vampires. We don’t hunt the way they do.”

“You don’t kill people?” You asked.

He nodded. “We made a choice a long time ago. We only eat from wild animals. I joke we’re vampire vegans.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh. “Vampire vegans? That’s... not what I expected.”

Hyunjin grinned, clearly pleased with your reaction. “What, you thought we’d be brooding in candlelit castles, sipping from goblets of stolen blood?”

“I mean… maybe a little. The name ‘The Strays’ made it sound like some underground, mysterious group. Not a bunch of ethical vampires.” You look over at him again. “Do you burn in the sun?”

Hyunjin scoffed, leaning back on his palms. “Yeah, sadly. I wish I could tan like everyone else.”

You laughed, unable to help yourself.

He exhaled, tilting his head to the side as he studied you. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to understand the secret vampire society I accidentally stumbled into.”

“Fair.”

You nudged his shoulder playfully. “So, what else should I know? Do you sleep in coffins? Turn into a bat? Have a weird obsession with counting things?”

Hyunjin chuckled, shaking his head. “No coffins. I don’t sleep. No bat transformations, though that would be cool. And the counting thing? Isn’t that from Sesame Street?” He leaned in slightly. “But I am pretty good at math.”

You grinned. “I knew it. Next, you’ll tell me you don’t even have fangs.”

His smirk widened, and before you could react, he let his lips part just enough for you to catch a glimpse of sharp canines. “Oh, I have them,” he murmured.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you hated the way your stomach fluttered at the sight. He must have noticed because his smirk deepened.

“See? Harmless,” he said, flashing them one last time before leaning back again.

You narrowed your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure the deer you snack on would disagree.”

Hyunjin laughed, full and warm. “You’re fun, you know that?”

You cleared your throat, looking back at the river. “So, what’s the deal with The Strays? How do you never age and people don’t notice?”

“We move around. This is around the fifth time we’ve lived in Forks.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Fifth? And no one notices?”

He smirked, leaning in slightly. “You’d be surprised how little humans actually pay attention.”

“That’s both reassuring and a little insulting.”

“It helps that we tweak things. We switch up our looks a lot. The last time I was here, I had blonde hair and glasses. Before that? A tragic side part.”

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. “A tragic side part?”

“It was a dark time,” he said, shaking his head.

You shook your head, fighting a smile. “So, what happens when people do start noticing? When they realize you’re not, y’know, aging?”

He sighed, leaning back again. “We leave before that happens. Start fresh somewhere else.”

“That sounds… lonely.”

“It can be.”

A quiet breeze rolled over the river, and you watched the water ripple. You let your gaze drift, watching as your own reflection stared back at you. But, something was off.

You blinked, shifting your focus. Your reflection was alone.

Your breath hitched slightly, and a strange unease settled in your stomach. The space beside you, where Hyunjin should be, was empty. In reality, he was still next to you, but in the water? Nothing. No dark eyes watching you, no familiar smirk teasing at the corners of his lips. Just empty space, like he wasn’t there at all.

You turned your head slowly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. He looked at peace, his gaze turned up toward the sky as if he hadn’t noticed your sudden shift in demeanor. Like this wasn’t the first time someone had realized.

Then, he noticed you staring at him and looked back. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. Then, without warning, he scrunched up his face in the most ridiculous way. His lips were twitched and his nose was wrinkled in a silly way.

The eerie weight of the moment shattered.

You let out an ungraceful snort, covering your mouth as laughter bubbled up. “What- what was that?”

“A distraction,” he admitted, grinning. “Did it work?”

You rolled your eyes, still giggling. “You’re such a dork.”

His grin widened, a hint of smugness creeping in. “A devastatingly handsome dork, though.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Unfortunately, yes.”

He placed a hand over his chest in mock flattery. “Oh? So you admit it?”

With an exaggerated sigh, you leaned back beside him, letting your back graze the cool grass. “It’s tragic, really. A dork trapped in an insanely hot body.”

“The burden I bear,” he murmured, staring up at the sky.

You turned your head to look at him, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Must be exhausting.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he said, shutting his eyes like he was deep in thought. “Constantly being admired, fawned over… It’s a curse, really.”

“Wow. You must be so strong to endure it.”

He cracked one eye open, smirking. “I am, aren’t I?”

Rolling your eyes, you let out a small laugh. “Unbelievable.”

For a moment, the teasing quieted, replaced by something softer. The river murmured beside you, fireflies flickering lazily in the distance. Hyunjin tilted his head slightly, watching you like he was memorizing something.

“You’re not scared,” he said after a beat, voice quieter now.

You blinked at him. “Of you?”

He nodded.

You thought about it, about everything that had happened today. Maybe you should be. But when you looked at him, you didn’t see a monster lurking in the shadows. You saw someone who made stupid faces to make you laugh, who seemed more human than he wanted to admit.

“No,” you finally said. “I don’t think I am.”

Something unreadable flickered in his expression, and then he smiled. It was small but real.

“Good,” he murmured. “I’d hate to scare you away.”

⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

You were busy looking at your phone in the school hallway when Hyunjin came behind you.

He leaned over. “Tyler wants to ask you to the winter dance.”

You nearly dropped your phone, spinning around to face him. “Excuse me?”

Hyunjin grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You heard me.”

“How do you even know that?” You narrowed your eyes. “Did you eavesdrop, or-” You paused, then gasped. “Oh my god, did you read his mind! Great. Now I have to avoid Tyler for the rest of my life.”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Not into him?”

You shot him a look. “Absolutely not. Plus, isn’t it still too early to be thinking of that? It’s October.”

He shrugged. “Apparently not for Tyler. He’s been thinking about it for a while.”

You groaned again, resisting the urge to dramatically slide down the lockers. “This is the worst news I’ve received all week.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Hyunjin said, crossing his arms. “Just say no if he asks.”

You sighed, stuffing your phone into your pocket. “It’s not that simple. Tyler’s nice, and I don’t want to be mean about it. But now that I know it’s coming, I’m going to be stressing over how to let him down easy.”

“Just be honest. That’s usually the best way.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I just hope it doesn’t make things awkward.”

“It’ll only be awkward if you make it awkward.”

“Wow. So wise.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when he finally works up the courage.”

You groaned again, already dreading the conversation. “Can all vampire’s read minds or something?” You made sure to talk in a hushed tone.

“No. Only certain vampire’s have powers and they’re all different. Mind reading is mine.”

You frowned, considering that. “So, like… superpowers? Special vampires gets something different?”

He nodded. “Something like that.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “That’s… kind of terrifying.”

He smirked. “Only if we want it to be.”

You ignored that and pressed on. “So, you got stuck with mind reading?”

He scoffed. “Stuck with? It’s useful.”

“You literally just used it to gossip about college drama,” you pointed out.

Hyunjin sighed, shaking his head. “And this is why I don’t tell people things.”

You grinned. “So, if everyone has different powers, what do the rest of The Strays have?”

“Like I mentioned, only certain vampire’s have special abilities. Felix can see the future. He can’t see it clearly but it’s there. And Jeongin can control mortals emotions.”

“Just you three have special abilities?”

He nods. “You should really meet my all of my coven.”

“A mortal in a room of seven vampires? That doesn’t sound like a good idea…”

“Oh, come on. You make it sound like we’re going to eat you.”

“You can’t blame me for being cautious. I don’t want to end up as dinner.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You won’t. Besides, you’ve already been around me, and I haven’t so much as taken a bite. I already told you we’re vegan.” He laughs at his own joke again. “If it makes you feel better, we don’t exactly invite humans over all the time. But you’re… different.”

You frowned at that. “Different how?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “I don’t know yet. But Felix saw something in one of his visions.”

Your stomach twisted. “About me?”

He nodded. “Not clearly. But you’re involved in something. That’s why they want to meet you.”

You swallowed hard, glancing away. “Yeah, that’s not ominous at all.”

Hyunjin gave you a reassuring look. “It’s not like that. You don’t have to decide now, but at least think about it?”

You exhaled, rubbing your arms. “Fine. I’ll think about it. No promises.”

“Good enough for me.”

‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Charlie was going to be working late today. He called saying his team found a new development in the bear attacks.

This mean’t you had the house to yourself.

You sighed, stretching your arms over your head as you glanced around. The stillness felt heavier tonight. Maybe it was because of everything Hyunjin had told you earlier, or maybe it was just the way the wind howled faintly outside, rattling the windows every so often.

Shaking off the eerie feeling, you decided to keep yourself busy. You put on some music, made a quick dinner, and let the familiar routine settle you. By the time you curled up on the couch with a blanket, you almost felt normal again.

You tried focusing on the movie playing in front of you, but your mind kept wandering. The bear attacks. The Strays. Hyunjin’s mind-reading. Felix seeing the future. And Jeongin controlling emotions.

Just as you were about to shake the thoughts away, your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

The sudden noise made you jump. You exhaled, reaching for it and glancing at the screen.

A call from Chan.

You hesitated for a second before answering. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Chan’s voice came through, steady and calm. “You doing okay?”

You blinked. “Yeah… why?”

“I heard about Charlie working on the bear attacks.”

You frowned, shifting on the couch. “Yeah, he called earlier. Said they found something new.”

Chan hummed on the other end, but he didn’t say anything right away.

You bit your lip. “What’s going on?”

Another pause. Then, his voice dropped slightly. “Just… be careful, alright? Stay inside. Keep your doors locked.”

“Why? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Too late for that.”

You could hear the hesitation in his breathing, the way he was carefully choosing his words. “I just think you should stay put tonight. Trust me on this.”

You swallowed, glancing toward the nearest window. The backyard was shrouded in darkness, only the faint glow of the porch light keeping it from being pitch black. The night suddenly felt too quiet, too still.

Your grip on your phone tightened. “Chan…”

“I’ll check in later,” he said, tone firm. “Just promise me, okay?”

“No. This is sketchy. We’ve only chatted around five times since I’ve came back and now you call me with a warning. What’s going on?”

“Remember when I told you about The Cold Ones?”

“Vampires?”

“The Cold Ones.”

“Fine. Yes, I do. Very well.”

“It’s more than just The Strays.”

You frowned, gripping your phone tighter. “I know there are more vampi- Cold Ones. Yeah.”

“Yeah. Actually, don’t worry about it. My family is dealing with it.”

You groaned. “Chan if you know anything you need to tell Charlie and his team-”

"Charlie and his team are looking for bears, not Cold Ones. Trust me, getting them involved won’t help."

You opened your mouth to argue but stopped yourself. As much as you wanted to believe that your dad and his officers could handle whatever was happening, deep down, you knew they were outmatched. Guns and searchlights wouldn’t do much against creatures that could move faster than the human eye.

"Then tell me," you insisted. "Tell me what's really going on."

"A coven passed through last week. They didn’t stay long, but they left a mess behind.”

Your stomach twisted. "The attacks."

"Yeah."

You squeezed your eyes shut, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

Chan spoke again, “Don’t feel the need to tell your inhuman friends. They already know. I just want you to be safe because you’re involved in this world now. You smell like them. Mortal’s don’t usually smell like Cold Ones.”

You froze, the words sinking in. "What do you mean I smell like them?"

“Your scent is different now. You’ve been around them long enough that it’s… noticeable." He spoke almost in disgust. "It makes you a target, especially for the coven that came through. They’ll be able to sense it, and not everyone in that world is friendly." His voice was serious now, the tone of someone who had seen too much. "That’s why I need you to stay put tonight. Lock up, stay inside. Don’t let anyone get too close."

"Okay, I will. But you have to tell me more. How do you know about all this stuff? I know you said it’s in your family history, but you’re also human. How does your family just casually take care of Cold Ones like this? I’m already in deep. I can’t just stay in the dark."

“Do you really not remember anything I told you at La Push?”

“About The Cold Ones? I thought we already established I remembered that very well.”

“Of course that’s the only part you remember…”

“Chan, what-”

He hung up.

You stared at the screen of your phone, feeling a mix of confusion and frustration swirling in your chest. "What the hell?" you muttered, trying to process everything he had just said.

You paced around the room, running a hand through your hair, unsure of what to do next. Part of you wanted to call him back, demand answers, but something about the way he had ended the call so abruptly made you hesitate.

You checked the locks on the doors and windows again, though you knew it wouldn't make a difference if something wanted to get in. Chan said they were long gone but you had to make sure you could do as much as you could.

⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Ultimately, the next Saturday you agreed to meet with The Strays. You needed answers.

As you stepped outside, the cold fall air hit you like a splash of cold water. You could feel the tension in the pit of your stomach as you made your way to the driveway. When you saw Hyunjin’s car pull up, you exhaled, trying to push away the knots in your chest.

Hyunjin smiled slightly when he saw you approaching. It was moments like this when you were grateful he couldn’t read your mind. He got out of the car and opened the passenger side door for you, gesturing for you to get in.

“You good?” he asked as he helped you into the seat.

You gave him a small nod. “Yeah. Just preparing to be in a room full of vampires.”

Hyunjin gave a small nod back, his expression softening. He buckled you in carefully, taking a moment to make sure the straps were secure before stepping back. He closed your door with a soft click and walked around the car to the driver's side. It was a small action, but the fact that he cared to help you made you smile.

When he slid into the driver's seat, he shot you a quick smile, one that made you feel a little better. “You ready?”

You nodded, but as he started the engine, your eyes wandered to the seatbelt. You noticed that, despite buckling you in, Hyunjin hadn’t buckled himself up. He was focused on the road, hands gripping the wheel loosely as he pulled the car out of the driveway and onto the road.

“Hey,” you said after a beat, your gaze flickering back to him. “You’re not gonna buckle up?”

He glanced over at you, his grin playing at the edges of his lips. “What’s the worst that can happen? I die?” He joked.

You rolled your eyes. Right. He’s already dead.

The drive stretched on longer than you expected, the roads becoming narrower, the trees growing denser as Hyunjin guided the car deeper into the woods. The further you went, the more the town lights faded behind you, swallowed by darkness and thick foliage.

Your fingers curled into your lap as you glanced at Hyunjin. The dim light between the clouds cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the slight furrow in his brow. His eyes stayed locked on the road ahead. One of his hands gripped the steering wheel loosely, but it was the other that caught your attention. It rested on the center console, fingers splayed, inches from your thigh.

Eventually, the car slowed as the trees gave way to a clearing, revealing a house. No. This was a mansion. It looked like any glamorous house, but with more curtains.

Hyunjin turned off the engine, letting the silence settle thick between you.

“Well,” he exhaled, glancing at you. “We’re here.”

You swallowed, staring at the grand estate. “This is where you live?”

He smirked slightly. “What, were you expecting a crypt?”

“I don’t know what I was expecting. But not this.”

Hyunjin huffed a small laugh before stepping out of the car. You barely had time to process the sudden blur of movement before he was there, standing beside your open door, one hand braced against the roof of the car, the other extended toward you.

"Come on," he murmured, voice smooth, almost teasing. "I promise we don’t bite… well, not all of us."

You narrowed your eyes but placed your hand in his anyway. His fingers curled around yours, cool to the touch, yet oddly grounding. He led you up the walkway to the massive double doors. He didn’t bother knocking. Instead, with a casual push, the doors swung open, revealing the tidy entryway.

The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, polished to a gleam beneath the golden glow of chandeliers hanging high above. The scent of aged books and something faintly sweet, like old wine or honey lingered in the air.

Your steps were slow, careful, as you trailed behind Hyunjin, taking in the way the candlelight flickered against the deep blue of the curtains, how the walls were lined with bookshelves that stretched impossibly high.

As you moved further inside, the atmosphere shifted. The faint hum of voices drifted through the air, accompanied by the rhythmic clatter of kitchenware. The scent of something rich and savory curled around you, surprising given the nature of the house’s occupants.

When you two went up the stairs you stopped at a display of graduation caps. They were all hung in a row orangzied by the names of The Strays.

You laugh, “You’ve been to a lot of colleges.”

Hyunjin turned slightly, following your gaze to the neatly arranged caps. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yeah. You could say we have a thing for knowledge.” He joked.

Each cap bore a different school emblem, some old enough that the institutions they belonged to had probably changed names or shut down. Some were crisp and new and others slightly frayed at the edges.

As you reached the top of the stairs, the scene before you was even stranger than you had imagined.

The kitchen was warm and alive with movement. Pots clanked against the stove, the soft sizzle of something frying filled the air, and the scent of herbs and something buttery filled the air.

Han turned to see you, “Oh, guys! She’s here!”

“You couldn’t tell? I could smell her from a mile away.” Changbin chimed in.

You stiffened at the comment, instinctively taking a half-step back, but Hyunjin's hand found the small of your back, steadying you. “Don’t be an ass,” he muttered, shooting Changbin a pointed look.

Changbin shrugged. “I’m just saying. She smells… interesting.”

“Can you not be creepy for once?” Minho sighed, barely glancing away from the pot he was stirring. “We’re trying to be hospitable here.”

Hyunjin cleared his throat, “This is (Y/N).”

A chorus of greetings followed.

Changbin looked up from his phone again. “Welcome, human. We slaved away in this kitchen for hours just for you.”

Seungmin snorted. “You literally cut one vegetable and then sat down.”

Hyunjin pulled out a chair at the long wooden table, raising a brow at you. “Sit.”

You hesitated. “I already ate.”

A collective groan filled the kitchen.

You bit your lip. “I just assumed because vampire’s don’t eat that I wasn’t going to be fed…”

Jeongin spoke up. “It’s okay guys. She was trying to be considerate. We weren’t really getting anywhere anyway…” His eyes shifted to the piles of burnt meat on the counter.

Felix winced. “Yeah… turns out cooking isn’t exactly our strong suit.” His eyes lingered on you.

Minho scoffed, still stirring his pot with an air of superiority. “I was doing just fine until you guys started messing with the heat.”

“You were about to burn the garlic,” Han pointed out, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s called caramelization-”

“It caught on fire, Minho.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh as the group dissolved into bickering. The whole scene was so normal. You had expected something ominous, eerie, maybe even threatening. Instead, they felt like any other group of chaotic friends trying (and failing) to make dinner together.

Hyunjin sighed beside you, rubbing his temples. “This is why I told you to let me handle the cooking.”

Changbin smirked. “Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have gotten to see the sheer horror on your face when you walked in.”

Hyunjin muttered something under his breath before turning back to you. “Alright. How about we just head to my room?”

You nodded. “Okay. Thank’s for the thought guys.”

Seungmin chuckled to himself. “Just get out of here before Minho tries to force-feed you.”

Minho shot him a glare but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his attention back to the pan, clearly determined to salvage whatever he could.

Hyunjin placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the kitchen. On your way out you saw that Felix was still looking at you. You stopped and raised an eyebrow at him.

His eyes widened. “Sorry. You’ve been in a lot of my visions. Seeing you in person is different.”

You nod and follow Hyunjin. As soon as you stepped into the hallway, the warmth of the kitchen faded, replaced by the quiet, eerie stillness of the rest of the mansion.

You followed him up another flight of stairs, the wooden steps creaking under your weight. “Is your room in the attic or something?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Hyunjin chuckled. “Something like that.”

Finally, he opened a door, revealing a surprisingly minimalistic space. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books, old drawings, and a few scattered trinkets. A large window overlooked the dark forest, the trees swaying slightly in the breeze. The only source of light was a single lamp.

You look around some more. “No bed?”

“I don’t sleep, remember?”

“Right.”

Your fingers skimmed across the spines of the books, some titles faded with time, others fresh. Some were in languages you didn’t recognize. Some looked handwritten, as if he had filled the pages himself.

Then, the sketches caught your attention.

Dozens of them, scattered across his desk, pinned to the walls, tucked into books like forgotten thoughts. Each one was breathtaking in its own right.

And then you saw yourself.

Your stomach flipped. “You… drew me?”

Hyunjin leaned against the window frame, arms crossed, watching you. “I draw whats on my mind.”

His words sent a thrill through you, a slow-building warmth curling in your chest. You swallowed, picking up one of the sketches and studying it. “And how long have I been on your mind?”

Hyunjin smirked, stepping closer, his presence like a shadow moving through the room. “Long enough.”

Your pulse quickened as he reached past you, his fingers barely grazing your wrist as he took the drawing from your hands. He studied it, as if seeing it through your eyes for the first time.

“I don’t usually draw people,” he murmured. “Not like this.”

You turned your head slightly, his face now inches from yours. The dim light caught the sharp angles of his features. He was close enough that you could see the slight flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

“Like what?” you asked softly.

His gaze flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Like I want to remember every detail.”

Your breath hitched. The air between you felt fragile, electric. He reached up, trailing his fingers along the edge of your jaw, his touch cool against your skin.

“Are you always this intense?” you teased.

Hyunjin smiled, slow and knowing. “Only when it comes to things I don’t want to forget.”

You felt your breath catch as he leaned in, slow, deliberate, giving you just enough time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips brushed against yours, hesitant at first, as if testing the moment. Then, when you didn’t move away, he pressed in deeper, capturing your mouth with a quiet urgency. His hand slid to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

He tasted cool, like something untouchable, yet here he was, pressing into you as if he needed this just as much as you did.

Your hands found his shoulders, feeling the tense muscle beneath your fingertips, as if holding him in place, afraid he might disappear like a dream if you let go.

Hyunjin exhaled softly against your lips, his other hand ghosting down your waist, barely touching, yet setting your skin on fire. He kissed like he drew. Carefully. He has an artist’s precision as if memorizing every curve, every response, every small hitch of your breath.

Then, just as slowly as it started, he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. His hands were still resting on you as if he wasn’t ready to let go. Your own breathing was uneven, your heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“You’re warm,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I forget what that feels like.”

“And?” you asked softly, tilting your head just enough to meet his gaze.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “I think I like it.”

Slowly, your hands slid down his arms, fingertips skimming over the fabric of his shirt. “Do you always do this?” you asked, voice light but teasing. “Lure unsuspecting humans into your attic just to kiss them?”

“If I said you were the first would you believe me?”

“Proably not.”

“You should. You mean a lot to me.”

“Hyunjin-” you started, but he shook his head, his fingers ghosting over your cheek.

“I’m serious,” he murmured. “You’re not just some fleeting thought, not just another sketch on my wall. You’ve been in my head for longer than I even realized.”

Your heart pounded, warmth spreading through your chest at the way he looked at you like you were something precious, something worth remembering.

“I don’t usually get attached,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But with you… I don’t think I have a choice.” He chuckled. “Which is funny because that’s usually what the mortal is supposed to feel about a vampire. Not the other way around.”

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself under the weight of his words. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

His lips twitched. “Maybe it is. Maybe you’re the most dangerous thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Then he kissed you again, slower this time, as if savoring every second, as if he wanted to memorize exactly how you felt in his arms. And you let him.

Taglist: @beewilko @darklove2020 @antiyoubutimkidding

A/N: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE LOVE ON THIS STORY SO FAR I DON'T HAVE WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW GRATEFUL I AM. <3

#stray kids #skz #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #hyunjin fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you

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gearsandhammers · 1 day ago

Text

TITANIUM : VIKTOR X M!READER

you have osteoporosis, and all your life, you’ve been treated as less than human. because they think you’re weak, not strong enough to live as a normal human. you’re also mute, which makes it a lot harder to ask for what you want, and people can’t understand you. it's frustrating, really. recently, you’ve found relief in shimmer, you’ve finally been able to move as anyone else could, even if you know it’s not good for you. but then, you meet viktor, and for once, you’re treated as an actual human, and nothing less.

cw | | chronic pain, ableism, drugs, mentions of suicide and self-harm

Piltover is pretty inclusive, all things considered. Most buildings are wheelchair accessible, and able to be accessed by the majority of people. However, being mute makes it all that much harder when they don’t have accessibility for the disabled. You usually have to figure it out yourself, or wait for someone else to come along to help you. You hate it so much, feeling like you’re so much less than everyone else.

Zaun however, is a lot different. One of your parents is from Piltover, and the other from Zaun, so you spent a lot of time going back and forth between the two cities. The Lanes are much more unforgiving than the streets of Piltover. The children, and even adults never had any tolerance for you. In Zaun, you were supposed to be unafraid; strong, to make it. And the thing is; you were. You are strong, unafraid, and so much more. But no one ever saw that. All they saw was a boy who couldn’t fend for himself, but you never got the chance to show it, because no one gave you a chance before babying you. And you are sick and tired of being babied.

You’ve found solace in Shimmer, even though you know how bad it is for you. You see why people take it– the rush, the high, the adrenaline. The buzz in the back of your brain, the way you can move faster, you don’t need your cane, you can run, you can be free.

Going to Singed has been a little too normal these days, but you find it the only thing that helps. When Councilor Talis was added to the council, you expected him to make changes to help people, like he said. But it turns out, the people he is helping don’t include you or the undercity. As you left Singed’s lab, you were surprised to see a familiar face. You just barely recognized him, but you were pretty sure it was Councilor Talis’s lab partner, Viktor, was it? You weren’t going to try to get his attention, but it turns out you caught him.

“ Excuse me? ”

You turn back to look at him.

“ Are you alright? You seem rather… out of it. It’s dangerous around here. Have to keep your head on a swivel, and all that. ”

You hesitate before your hands start to move. No, not really.

Who knew, all it took was just one person asking if you’re okay for you to completely unravel. In front of a stranger, at that. This shouldn’t be happening. You don’t even know the guy, but here you are, sitting at a café with him, just talking about anything and everything. It’s been far too long since you’ve been able to talk about this. Or talk to, period. It’s rare enough to come across someone who knows sign language, let alone be patient enough to stay with you through it.

When you’re upset, your hands move faster, but somehow, he still keeps up. Nodding at all the right times and responding with exactly what you need to hear. It’s like you’ve finally found someone who actually understands you.

Not just listens,

but actually

listens.

Sometimes, I just wish I could go to sleep and never wake up. Because maybe then, the pain would all go away. I could be free. I could fly. I could be on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the right moment when everything is still and I can let the next gust of wind take me forward, where I can just leave this world. Maybe that would be easier than people trying to trip me when I walk down the streets or the Fissures.

“ That’s a lot to hold in. It must feel nice to get all of this out, yes? ”

Yes. Very. Thank you for listening to me. Or watching, rather.

“ I’m glad to hear that. I want you to know that you’re not alone in this, there are tons of people who can support you in this. I could be one of those people, if you’d like, but there are many groups that can help and listen as I did. So many of us just suffer in silence, and there are easier ways out than taking your own life or Shimmer, or self harm. I want to help you, if you’d let me, pěvec. ”

If you weren’t crying before, you certainly are now. No one’s ever been there for you like Viktor has for you in the last hour. You never thought you’d be able to find someone that could care so dearly for you, not even your parents ever gave you this kind of love.

“ You are stronger than you know, pěvec. People may tell us that we don’t deserve a place in this world, but we are stronger than any of them will ever be. They may never know the pain we have to live with, but that does not mean that we cannot prove ourselves to them. We are the most resilient out of any of them, and you can show them that. They may tell you that you are made of glass– fragile, but every time they shoot you down, you get right back up–

you

are

titanium. ”

#kaisen writes !#arcane fic #arcane x male reader #viktor x male reader #arcane viktor x male reader #arcane x you #arcane #fanfic #viktor x reader #chronic illness

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ratatattouille · 3 days ago

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I love your points @elenasalvatore1 ! You put into words why I haven’t been able to really connect with the two big canon romances (and don’t even get me started on Tonks and Remus lol). I view Ginny as a jock, not in that she’s stupid, but that she enjoys status and popularity and she can be pretty shallow. Of course, she’s also witty and intelligent and anti-bigotry—plenty to love about her—but people imagine her much kinder than she is shown in the books. She made fun of Luna with the other kids and fervently defended Harry using Sectumseptra (or however that’s spelled) on Draco. However, I do think it should be taken into consideration that Draco at the time had tried to Crucio Harry so Ginny’s feelings aren’t entirely misplaced since Crucio is an Unforgivable. I still agree that she didn’t treat Harry’s spell with the weight it deserved, either, and it’s a little interesting to me how people imagine so much depth for this fling when a lot of how it was written was convenient (at least, to me). Ginny’s behavior is very fan-girlish throughout all books. I do think what Harry liked about Ginny had to do with how he associated her with “normalcy” at a time when things were getting so bleak for him. But I do think, that while Ginny was a fan-girl, she didn’t completely dehumanize Harry and had genuine care for him to some extent. For example, the scene in Chamber of Secrets where she tells Draco Harry doesn’t care for fame after Draco teases Harry about Gilderoy. It doesn’t disprove her fan-girlness, but it does show some level of sympathy and understanding for Harry. Ginny definitely cared for Harry. Although one could also interpret that scene as proof of how deified and faultless Harry was to her since CoS Ginny had full-blown limerence for Harry (and self-admittedly throughout the books lol). I also don't think that her telling Harry "you wouldn't be happy unless you were going after Voldemort" was her being self-centred. I believe she meant it as in Harry wouldn't be "satisfied" to run and hide and not defend the people he loves and that was what she (justifiably) loved about him. It was genuine and sweet. I also think her saying "at least Harry won't have time to find another girl" was an attempt on her end to lighten the mood. What Harry likes about Ginny, according to the books, is her pragmatism and lack of drama. She isn't weepy like Cho or "shrill" like Hermione. She's the definition of chill. However, as I've said before and I'm sure you'll agree, none of this "disproves" her limerance regarding Harry and it's shaky foundations for Harry, too. Sure she's level-headed (but so is Hermione a lot of the time, not always but often) and chill, so of course she would appeal to Harry when his whole world is drama at that point. But I agree that it's not love and it's a weird way to develop a romance. At the very least, simply not my cup of tea. I'm just not into it, whether or not there's a narrative thread leading up to it.

I also dislike how Hinny fans claim misogyny whenever Ginny is called shallow or a fan-girl, even if she is outspoken and has spine. She isn’t deep just because she hates pure blood supremacists. She very much has a childish sense of “good guys and bad guys” and doesn’t like being challenged on her views—not when it comes to Fleur or what Harry did to Draco, for example. She’s not open-minded. And she likes having it all. It doesn’t mean she’s bad or isn’t brave. She did fight valiantly in the Ministry and the Battle of Hogwarts. And she did share trauma from those fights with the others. This is kinda where hinny shippers get wiggle room. If she was “just a fangirl” the trauma from fighting at the Ministry should have--theorietically--dissuaded her. One can say that she matured after that fight and found that her feelings for Harry became genuine and less idealistic. But in my opinion, it’s not enough to discount the fan-girl interpretation for Ginny post OoTP, either. She could still very much have an even bigger romanticization of Harry’s heroism. A no-nonsense Ginny that Hinny shippers imagine would have sounded (ironically) more like Hermione. If it wasn’t limerence, I reckon Ginny would’ve been more argumentative with Harry instead of Ron or Hermione. She just takes Harry’s side, which to me dampens what’s so fun about her outgoing, outspoken personality. It’s like she turns into a dollar-store Hermione where her and Harry can only mimic (but never replicate) the level of trust and vulnerability Harry and Hermione have with each other. Hinny is honestly so Netflix drama coded to me 😂 sorry to my hinny moots (it’s all love) ❤️.

My biggest issue with Ronmione is how much Hermione’s independent personality was stunted by the romance. Many Ronmione shippers insist that’s the point! She wasn’t acting like herself because she fell in love with Ron! And it baffles me how that is seen as a win! Ships should not cause character assassination or erasure. The good ones at least. But I don’t see why Hermione would’ve fallen in love with Ron, personally. I see why people like the ship, and I have no doubt Ron and Hermione love each other tremendously. But Harry was the tether between the both of them until the outline called for the romance to begin, lmao. Ron didn’t like hanging out with Hermione alone much in the beginning and a lot of their disagreements weren’t “just banter” but based on genuine difference of worldview and personality. That doesn’t mean they couldn’t fall in love because they were so different, just that a lot of their disagreements had real substance to them. Ron was much more inconsiderate than Hermione. And he had 0 interest, as you said, in the Muggle world. I’m going to go on a limb here and say that it’s not that Ron disliked Hermione, but that he found her boring! Brilliant, but a bore! (Literally the two initial moments he “noticed” Hermione were when she punched Draco—exciting!—and when she was with his favorite celebrity—Krum) And that’s one of the worst things you could be to Ron. Hermione was brilliant, as dear to him as a sister (and he looked after her same as he did for Ginny), but Ron had much more to talk about with Harry, same as Hermione and much richer conversations with Harry than with anyone else in the entire wizarding world. Hermione was like miniature Molly for Ron, and Ron acted a lil territorial over her, which, again, not a fan. Not because it's a moral problem for me, but just because I don't find that stuff romantic. It's realistic insecure teenage boy behaviour and can be enjoyed as that, but it won't get me looking for the ships to pull into harbour. Harry was normal about Hermione. Like completely normal about her in such a nuanced and refreshing way, it's one of the most mature teenage relationships I've ever seen in a YA. There was also so much depth there, especially in regard to what Voldemort meant to both Hermione and Harry.

Same thing for Hermione. I don’t see anything that would make Ron interesting romantically to her. It can’t be the times he’s cared for her—because she’s disregarded his care before (and Harry has also shown lots of consideration for Hermione—more than Ron on many an occasion). Again, there's so little we know about Hermione's home life that I simply don't have a clue as to what she finds so special about Ron for herself as a character. I can't connect the dots. I think Ronmione was just a safe option, IMO. Not illogical, but not well-justified. And it baffles me how people see Ron and Hermione have more chemistry than Harry and Hermione just because of the reactions JKR gave them (“Harry had a monster in his chest!” “Hermione cried when Ron left them”) Doesn’t that just make it more melodramatic and cheap to you? More Netflix-y and forced? Guess not. Also, banter alone isn’t chemistry! Outside of banter and being against Death Eaters and being Harry's friend, Ron and Hermione had nothing in common and had little to no curiosity for those differences.

I also think it needs to be acknowledged that JK Rowling has a slight bias more to her male characters than female characters. On average, most of her more developed characters are male and she employs a lot of negative (borderline misogynistic) stereotypes for her female characters. Regardless of who you ship, Hermione and Ginny's personalities become almost ENTIRELY about their love interests. Most female characters are written to be or sound ridiculous, uppity or catty in these books and the two best girls are no exception. You could argue that this is because the books are written through the POV of Harry, but the stories themselves still give less grace to the female characters. So reading the female characters accurately may mean describing them unfavorably regardless. But that’s opening Pandora’s box for HP fandom so we’ll keep that closed for now. 😃

I don't understand why ppl don't want to understand if a couple fell in love , it's just about simply , purely , truly falling in love not aabout- are they perfect , are they compatible, do they create healthy relationship , someone else was more better for him/her , they deserve better and blah blah blah

They fell in love. True Pure selfless love

THAT'S IT

Yes i am talking about canon ships

#harry potter #hinny #romione #harry james potter #ginny weasley #hermione granger #ronald weasley #harmony #ship discourse #my opinion #also noticed that most pro canon shippers read the books when they were very young #i I read the books as an adult and watched the movies as a teen so that could be to blame for whatever biases I may have here as well

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