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[kingkat12]

forever (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: angst, mentions of blood, ANGST (SORRY IN ADVANCE)

summary: nothing will ever be the same again after you've find out what Roman truly is-- you can be sure of that now.

word count: 5,093

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13

a/n: GOSH I'M BACK! 13 is the lucky number (not). this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but it's more than enough for this scene... I can't breathe omg. thank you to everyone that has helped me with brainstorming and clearing my mind about this scene, specifically @mentallyscreamingsincebirth who read about 7 different drafts (poor soul), and I'M SO SORRY. SO SO SORRY Y'ALL. ENJOY... tbh that's not the right word, so, good luck!!!

Loving Roman had consequences right from the start.

However, I never imagined it would lead to this. 

My hands trembled as I clutched the knife, though I couldn't tell if it was from fear or the sheer weight of the situation. Roman hadn't moved an inch since I'd pointed it at him, but the way he loomed in front of me made every second stretch unbearably long. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the fridge-- my breath caught in my throat as he tilted his head, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable, something quiet.

Then, without warning, a slow exhale left his lips as though he was indifferent-- Roman's shoulders slackened, the tension bleeding from his frame as if this entire moment had bored him. And then, just like that, he put his tux jacket on the kitchen island before he turned away.

I flinched at the movement, but all Roman did was step toward the fridge, peeling it open with a lazy sort of ease. He bent down, rummaging through the shelves, shifting the milk aside like I wasn't still standing there, terrified.

I turned with him, still pointing the blade in his direction as my pulse threatened to rupture my ears-- this was the biggest mind-fuck of the century. This night was. My brows drew together as I dared to speak, confusion drowning my anxious words; "What are you doing?"

Roman shrugged. "I have a feeling this is gonna take a while, and I'm really fucking hungry. Do you know how many calories you burn from beating up assholes?" Another sigh followed--  he continued to speak into the fridge as he shuffled through the vegetables; "You're not wearing your dress."

It sounded like a casual remark, yet I knew it was loaded with the intent of getting me to explain myself. The longer I stayed quiet, the more I could hear my heart pound. "I changed,"

"Where?" 

"... Here?" 

Roman shook his head, remnants of a knowing smirk painting his lips-- it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't think we should be starting this conversation off with more lies," 

His words were chilling. I struggled to find mine. I cleared my throat over and over as my hands got clammy around the knife I had yet to lower; "I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Come on," Roman huffed, rolling his eyes as he straightened up, reaching for the handle of the fridge. When he turned his head to meet my gaze, I felt my breathing knot itself in my chest-- I hated this feeling. I hated being scared of my boyfriend. I hated that I couldn't bring myself to put away the kitchen knife I was still pointing at him. Roman continued; "I've been waiting for you for about... what, fifteen minutes? You didn't change here, and those clothes aren't yours."

Fighting the urge to stay tongue-tied, I snapped; "And you shouldn't have broken into my house in the first place! That's crossing all fucking boundaries!--"

BOOM.

The fridge door slammed shut with a force that rattled the shelves.

I jolted. A sharp, pathetic squeak clawed up my throat before I could stop it. My pulse jumped, breath hitching-- fuck.

Roman had never looked more intimidating; "I see we're past talking about boundaries!" he hissed, glancing down at the knife in my trembling hands. His attempts at containing his anger were cracking.

"Fine," I bit back. "Let's talk about the important piece of information you so conveniently failed to tell me, then!"

Roman blinked. I knew him too well; I could see his mind racing behind those big, beautiful eyes. I shouldn't be looking into them. "The car crash?" he asked, attempting to soften his voice. Something told me he got hopeful that he had hit bingo about the subject, and that he could somehow salvage this; "I'll tell you everything you want, baby. No problem, okay? Where do you want me to start?--"

"Don't fuck with me, Roman!" One of my hands left the knife as my tremble subsided, and I steadied my stance. "Enough!" 

Roman's fists clenched, and his gaze pierced mine with rays of ice. It took him some time to let it sink in-- we were about to have this conversation, whether he wanted to or not. We were going to talk about what he was. Despite the horror of the situation, my body filled with a satisfaction unlike anything I had ever felt before; I had pieced it together. I had cornered him. I had caught the liar, and I had done it all by myself. 

However, the liar in question didn't want to relent so easily; "This is about Daniel, isn't it? The little shit who confessed he'd get off to snapping your neck in half?"

"It's... What?" My frustration possessed me as I gestured with the knife, exasperated. "No, Roman! It's not that, and you know it!"

Roman let out a quick, icy breath as his fists clenched and unclenched-- deny, deny, deny. "He had it coming," he breathed. "I don't get why you're holding a knife at me for giving that guy what he deserved!"

"That's not why I'm!--"

"You think I went too far?" Roman scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. Deny, deny, deny. "You think I should've let him walk away after hurting you, is that it?"

This was beyond frustrating now. It was infuriating, actually. Roman's dismissal of the real topic of concern drove me into a state I hadn't been in before; it almost made my vision go red. Then, it took me a second to realize my vision was blurring because of more causes than one-- with tears pooling in my eyes, I watched as Roman continued his angry rant;

"I don't get you! Why the fuck are you pulling a knife on your boyfriend for protecting you?! I was the one who saved you, I was the one who made sure you got the revenge you deserved, and what do I get in return? That terrified look on your fucking face?!" 

Roman was yelling now. 

Yelling.

I kept telling myself he didn't mean it, that he was simply anxious to face the truth that I knew his biggest secret, but... now that I knew what he was, it only made me grip the knife harder. What if he suddenly pounced at me? What if he got so overcome by anger that he lunged my way out of pure instinct?

I flinched when Roman raised his hands, yet I let out a shaky breath of relief when they went to his hair, ripping at the tips of his brown locks in frustration; "I have done everything to protect you! I-- I messed him up, okay, but!--"

Enough. "Protect me?! You think this is protection?!"

The panic Roman had painted across his face for sympathy got wiped away the second I raised my voice too. His act wasn't working. His distractions weren't working. Nothing was. "It is," he hissed.

"No!" The tears that had welled in my eyes threatened to spill. "You should've left me alone the second you started feeling anything for me! That would've been protection, that would've mercy!" 

Roman closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp line of air-- "Don't say that," he breathed. "You're crossing the line."

"Crossing... the line?!" 

"You are," he continued, blindly gesturing at the knife. "Point your knives, call me whatever, say all the shit you want, but not that. What we have is damn near holy to me, so keep that out of your mouth."

I had half the mind to throw the knife at him. Enough was enough, I couldn't stand it anymore; "You're insane!" I yelled. "You're batshit crazy, and you're out of your fucking mind if you think that you were protecting me all this time! You've only put me in danger!"

Roman's eyes widened with offence. "I have not!--"

"You urged me to slice my hand in front of you, and you sucked my fucking blood that time you decided you wanted to blood-bind us or whatever the fuck those vials were for! How dare you put me in that situation when you know what you are?!"

Silence.

In the void of sound we had created, I could hear a light tapping against the windows-- it was raining. Outside, the grass was given the opportunity to grow. At this very moment, flowers all around were watered with new energy for life; yet here I was, being drained of all of mine.

Roman's face twitched with multiple emotions, unable to decide which one to settle for as he lowered his gaze. Had he ever prepared for this moment? I wondered if he had. I wondered whether he had ever laid in bed at night, riddled with guilt and the weight of the world, and whether he had ever thought about coming clean. Had he thought he could get away with it, that I would never find out? 

Finally, Roman opened his mouth; "I..." 

It didn't take long before it shut again.

A shaky breath escaped me when I realized my knuckles were going white around the knife. I was about to say something, maybe even dig deep into my soul to search for words of comfort; yet when Roman's eyes fully focused on mine again, I felt my whole world freeze over.

Roman's pupils widened, fixating on me as though I was prey, a big deer in the wilderness. He knew the act was up, that the game was over, and instead of facing it, he fixated on the one thing he felt he could still control. His words came out with a low growl; "You have something of mine,"

... What? 

He took a threatening step forward. 

My breath hitched; I readied my brain for possible combat. 

"The vial," Roman hissed. "Where is it?" 

Another step.

"It's mine. If this is how you want to do this, I want it back,"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Back-- Back off!--"

With Roman's next step, my body tensed up with the realization that he was speeding up--

It was now or never.

With a shriek, I tossed the knife in his direction out of pure fear, and ran out of the kitchen as my screams emptied my lungs. The pounding of my heart filled my ears as I heard the clashing of pots and pans, possibly the sound of Roman jumping over the kitchen island to get to me, and it only made me panic more.

He called out my name, a yell of rage, as I made it past the living room and into the hallway. 

I was running for my life. 

I was running for my life. 

A ragged scream tore from my throat as I snatched the nearest object, a flimsy umbrella, and flung it behind me without looking. It didn't matter. He'd dodge it. He'd always dodge it.

Tears burned down my face, blurring the steps ahead as I bolted up the stairs. My chest heaved, my legs burned, but I pushed-- pushed like my life depended on it, because it did.

I was going to die, wasn't I?

This was it.

But for a second, a stupid, desperate second, my brain tricked me; maybe I could make it? Maybe I could outrun him? Maybe, maybe I could get out of this alive?

I chanced a glance over my shoulder--

Roman wasn't there.

My heart stopped. Relief slammed into me so hard that my knees nearly buckled.

Too soon.

I saw it too late-- the flicker of movement at the edge of my vision.

Roman's hand, appearing at the top of the banister.

He hadn't run up the stairs. He'd jumped. From the first floor to the second in a single, monstrous leap.

A scream ripped from my throat as he vaulted over the railing, his body a blur, his weight crashing into me before I could even think to run.

My back hit the ground hard, but before I could even feel the pain, something else registered.

His hand. Between my head and the floor, cushioning the blow.

My breath stuttered, my body locked in pure terror as I fought, thrashed, pounded my fists against his chest-- but it was useless. He didn't budge.

My heartbeat was a deafening drumbeat of panic; I wasn't getting away. I wasn't getting away.

I wasn't getting away.

Then, Roman grabbed my hands and slammed them to the floor, pinning me down with a groan. His voice was sharp, teetering on the edge of control; "Stop it!" he yelled. "Stop fighting! I'm not going to hurt you!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, the tears still coming. I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he continued. "Since when do you throw knives at me?!" 

I kept trying to kick him off. It didn't work. Nothing did.

Roman's chest heaved above mine, his grip tightening before he seemed to catch himself-- his fingers loosened just slightly. His voice dropped, a thread of disbelief woven through the frustration. "You're really afraid of me, aren't you?"

I let out a quiet sob, unable to speak.

Roman's breath shook, his head tilting as if seeing me for the first time. He exhaled through his nose, but his next words wavered; "After all this time... you really think I could hurt you?"

Something in his voice made me pause. He wasn't just angry anymore, he was... wounded. 

"After everything?" he breathed. His fingers curled around my wrists, but this time, they trembled.

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

That silence, that awful, confirming silence, broke him. Roman's expression crumpled as he clutched my wrists like a lifeline, his breath uneven. The anger drained from him in an instant, replaced by something desperate, raw, broken. 

"You're breaking my heart," he breathed.

The words shattered between us.

I stilled, my own heartbeat stammering.

In the muted space of my lack of words, Roman let out a quiet, shuddering laugh, his green eyes glossing over. "Letha told you, didn't she?" His voice cracked, barely above a whisper; "You're wearing her clothes, and you kinda smell like her expensive incense for crazy people. Don't tell me she performed some ritual on you?"

I swallowed hard. Telling him the truth felt dangerous; I needed to protect my last ally, didn't I? "No," I whispered. "No rituals. There was no Letha. I figured it out by myself... I-- I read a book." At least there was some truth to what I was saying.

Roman uttered something between a scoff and a choked breath, shaking his head. His lips curled, but there was no humor in it. "All by yourself?" he muttered. "That's my girl."

Acid filled my next words, overcome by emotion; "You left me no choice,"

"I didn't?"

"You didn't,"

"That's nonsense," Roman mumbled. "We could've avoided all of this. We could've had a few good years with you in the dark."

His face was too hard to read. His expressive eyes were so cold and hard with his conviction-- he really believed that, didn't he? "Years?" I whispered. "With me... in the dark?"

"Yeah," Breathless. He was breathless. "A decade, maybe."

It didn't take me long to piece it together. It would take a decade until he looked considerably younger than me. Would he have let me in on his secret then? 

"That wouldn't have been enough," I said, choking back my tears. "I wanted a whole life with you, Roman."

His next inhale was shaky, yet quick-- finally, he could be sure that he had lost. "So you... you really know, now?"

I knew.

I knew. 

And I could barely speak it; "That you're a upir? Yeah,"

Roman had yet to let me go. "Fuck..." he breathed, nodding to himself. "There goes that."

There it goes.

All the stolen glances, all the kisses, all the joy, all the love.

It was draining the life out of the both of us. "I'm not going to ask you to forgive me," Roman tried. "But can I at least... please have the vial?" His voice broke at the end of his sentence, and he bit down on his bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

My words came out with a tremble; "I-- I threw it away. It was affecting you horribly, and I don't want that for you... I don't want you to be in pain, Roman, despite everything you are,"

He sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body locking up as if my words had just stabbed into him. "I'll have nothing of you, then?" His voice was barely there, so fragile it made my chest ache. "When you leave me, I'll... I'll have nothing?"

I blinked. When I leave?

Was he... planning to let me go?

"You're breaking my heart," Roman echoed, his shoulders trembling as he let go of my wrists to cradle my face in his hands. 

The touch nearly made me flinch. Had I not been so intent on my survival, I would've pushed him away with a shudder. I didn't want him touching me, not now that I knew who and what he was, yet I endured it for the sake of my life. 

Roman's grip faltered as he watched me fail to hide my fear, and his fingers trailed to my cheeks as he took in the look on my face.

"I can never trust you again," I whispered. "Never hold you, never kiss you... Not now that I know what you are."

Roman's fingers slowly brushed over my cheek, shaking. "But... it was supposed to be you and me," he breathed. "Forever."

Forever.

The word sent a sharp ache through my ribs.

Roman's eyes shut, his face twisting with something too deep to name. "I know I should've stayed away..." A shuddering inhale. "I should've just kept on being miserable." 

I choked down a sob; "Rome," I whispered. What else was there to say?

The nickname hit him like a bullet. Roman's voice was rough when he dared to speak; "I wasn't supposed to feel like this for anyone... That was my one rule," He pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot, and his jaw was tight like he was forcing the words out. "I don't know when it happened, and I don't know how it happened, but I woke up one day and realized that I-- fuck!" 

Overcome by his emotions, Roman let out a sharp, bitter laugh; "I didn't want this, okay? I didn't-- God, I didn't fucking want to feel anything for you at all! I didn't want us to ever happen in the first place!"

The words should've hurt. They were meant to hurt, why else would Roman say them? But the way he said them, so wrecked, so lost, made my heart ache instead.

Roman exhaled hard, tilting his head back like he was trying to keep it together. "You have no idea how much I fought feeling anything for you... You have no idea how many times I told myself that it was nothing, that it would go away, and that you were just!--" He stopped, his breath hitching. "That you were just some meaningless girl, something temporary, a distraction at most, and not!--"

He didn't say it.

He couldn't. 

Not yet.

"And I--" Roman stopped, like the next part physically hurt to say. "I should've told you about this, I should've told you who I am. You deserved that much, and I tried, I swear! I-- I wanted to. But every time I got close,  every time I thought, this is it, tell the fucking girl, be a man, I'd look at you and-- and I got scared."

Finally, I could be sure the world was going under. The notorious Roman Godfrey was scared, and even worse, admitting to it. 

"Because if I told you, you'd leave!" he said, voice raw with pain. "And I couldn't-- I can't!--"  He was shattering right before my eyes, shattering into a million pieces. "Fuck, you have to understand! I didn't keep it from you to hurt you, I kept it from you because I'd lose everything!"

Roman swallowed hard, and in the smallest, quietest voice, he whispered; "I never, ever wanted to lose you. Nothing else matters like this, I-- I love you too much to function,"

Silence.

Thick. Suffocating.

Roman Godfrey... loved me?

He loved me.

Roman loved me.

And here he was, looking down at me with those big, pleading, green eyes like it would fix everything. Like it would fix the fact that he could kill me within a second. Like it would fix his blood-thirst. 

"Please," he breathed, heartbroken with my lack of response. "You're not saying anything. Please say something."

All the times I had sensed something was wrong and convinced myself I was crazy rushed through my mind, clouding my shock at Roman's confession. It was torturous how he had let me remain in the dark for so long. Was that love, or was that selfishness?

I knew the answer.

"That's not love, Roman," I whispered. "That's fear."

His face fell. "No," he tried. "Don't-- Don't say that, it's not--"

"You say you didn't tell me because you didn't want to lose me, but what do you think this is? What do you think is happening right now?" My voice wavered, heat rushing to my face. "You talk about love like it's this big, tragic thing you had no control over, but you chose to lie to me above all else! You chose to put me in danger every time you were ever near me!"

I pushed against his chest, my body trembling with the force of my anger; Roman could've easily stayed put, could've easily kept me pinned to the ground, yet he relented, his eyes wide with hurt as he allowed me to push him away and sit up.

"You let me walk around and doubt myself for months, Roman! You let me drive myself crazy, trying to understand what the hell was wrong with me and why I was even doubting you, when this whole time-- this whole time, you were lying to my face!"

Roman ran a hand through his hair, looking wrecked. "What did you want me to do?!--"

"Anything but this, you fucking asshole!" I shoved myself off the floor, feeling my heart pound. "And you don't get to look at me like that, like I've wrecked your life! You don't get to act like this is just something sad that happened to us when this could've been prevented all along if you'd just stayed the fuck away!"

"That's not fair!" Roman yelled through the tears welling in his eyes. "You were basically throwing yourself at me!--"

"And you shouldn't have let me!" 

"Come on!" Desperate, Roman reached for me, but I jerked away so fast that I nearly tripped.

"Don't!" My voice cracked, but it didn't matter. "Don't you fucking touch me, how dare you!" Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to tell him that I loved him too, that we could find a way to make it work, that I would always love him no matter what... but Letha's warnings ran through my head.

She had told me he was dangerous. She told me about his urges, how he would forever be hungry for blood, and that I risked my life every minute I was near him. Letha explained how Roman could hear the heartbeats of everyone within a certain radius, and that every thump reminded him of how hungry he was.

But now, as I looked into his hurt eyes, I could only see...

Pain.

I couldn't look at him anymore. I couldn't hurt him any longer, as Letha said I needed to do-- I had to move. Roman's voice was a faint echo as I started taking shaky steps toward my bedroom; there was no chance I'd outrun him if he wanted to chase me again, so I walked. It didn't take long before I heard him scrambling up from the floor as well, following me into my room. 

I could feel him behind me when I stepped inside.

The door clicked shut.

My heart pounded, and I knew he could hear it. I knew.

"Baby--"

"Don’t," I breathed, stopping in the middle of the room before I turned around to face him. Even at this moment, he was beautiful. He was breathtaking in his shirt, even though his previously neat hairstyle had fallen apart with all the running and struggling. How was this fair?

I heard the shift in Roman's breathing, and how he tried to swallow the desperation in his throat. "You’re scared of me,”

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yes,”

"You don’t have to be," he whispered. "I would never--"

"I do,"

A sharp, broken exhale. He took a step closer, daring to get in my personal space, and I flinched before I could stop myself.

Roman froze.

Silence. Again.

And then--

He dropped to his knees.

I gasped. His hands clutched the fabric of my shirt, Letha's shirt, his forehead pressing against my stomach like he was praying to me. His breath was shaky, his fingers curling and uncurling as if he didn’t know whether to hold me or let me go.

"Please," His voice was wrecked, hoarse with unshed tears. "Please don’t do this."

I stood frozen, my hands shaking at my sides. I wanted to cradle him, wanted to sink down to the floor and hold him, but I couldn't move.

Roman pressed a kiss to my stomach, then another. Then my ribs. Then my hip. A desperate, reverent kind of touch. Not to seduce, not to possess-- but to beg.

"I love you," His voice cracked, his lips ghosting over the fabric of my shirt. "I love you so much, I can’t-- fuck, I can’t lose you!--"

"Roman--"

His body shuddered against mine, his fingers twitching where they clung to me, like if he just held on tightly enough, none of this would be real. "I can control it," he pleaded. "I swear, I swear, baby, please!--"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. I wanted to believe him so bad, wanted to relent, yet Letha's voice echoed in my head; "He will hurt you,"

"I won’t hurt you," he choked out, contradicting my every thought. "I’d rather die."

My breath hitched as my hands trembled, longing to reach for him. I pressed my lips together, trying to force down the sob rising in my throat; "If you don't want to hurt me, you-- you have to leave. You have to let me go," 

Roman's fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt as he shook his head, a frantic, shattered movement. No, no, no. "I don’t want to," His voice was raw. "Don’t make me. Please don't-- please don't make me."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. "Roman..."

He knew he had lost. It was over. There was nothing more to say. Slowly, painfully, he pulled back, looking up at me with wide, devastated eyes, silent tears streaking his face. He pressed one last, trembling kiss to my hip.

And then--

Roman let go.

He pushed himself up onto unsteady legs. Stumbled back, one step, two.

Heavy. 

Everything was, until I felt the relief of his eyes leaving mine. It felt like the weight of his attention lifted a ton from my shoulders. But the momentary solace quickly left me when I watched Roman's gaze shift--

He stilled.

The change was instant. His entire body locked up so tight it was like something inside him had snapped. His breath came shallow, his shoulders rising and falling in sharp, stuttered movements. His fingers flexed and curled like they didn’t know what to do.

I followed his line of sight with my breath catching in my chest, and my stomach dropped when I saw what he was looking at.

The book.

That fucking book. 

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir.

It lay there on my nightstand, its pages still open, marked by the frantic creases my fingers had pressed into them over and over again. There was no hiding it now.

With a sharp turn, I glanced back at Roman with huge eyes, wondering whether anger would take over his body and trigger him to chew me to death. But alas-- nothing.

Roman didn’t move.

He just stared. His lips parted slightly, his lashes fluttering as he blinked through the tears in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. I could see it, the way the pieces started clicking into place in his mind, how the dots connected in a way that destroyed him.

Finally, we both knew it was over. 

Then--

Defeated, Roman turned away.

It was sudden, almost violent, the way he ripped himself away. He staggered toward my window, one hand swiping at his face as he smeared his tears into his skin, his breath a sharp, hollow sound. His entire body shook like he was barely keeping himself together, like the second he stepped outside, he would completely break apart.

Roman reached for the window.

Shoved it open.

But just for a second, he hesitated.

For a second.

For me.

He waited.

He was begging me to say something, to stop him, to tell him he didn’t have to go.

But I didn’t. I couldn't.

So, Roman climbed through the window I had snuck him in through countless times. We had shared countless kisses there; kisses of passion, kisses of joy, kisses goodbye, kisses hello. But now, there would be no more. 

With one final look back, his green eyes seared into mine with a look I would never forget.

And then--

Roman Godfrey was gone. 

I stood there for longer than I'd ever admit to anyone, staring at the empty space he'd left behind, waiting for him to come back. I could still smell him-- the deep cologne and the faint, metallic tinge of blood clinging to my shirt where he'd been pressed against me just minutes ago. It was Daniel's blood, a trace of what had happened earlier tonight. I couldn't believe I had been happy just a few hours ago. A few hours was all it took to unravel everything. 

It was like he had left a ghost of himself behind--- something half-alive, something that would never quite let go of me.

Nothing but the sound of my own breathing filled up the room. It sounded too loud, too shaky. My fingers drifted into my pocket without thinking, curling around the cold glass buried there.

The vials clinked together as I rolled them between my fingers-- his blood, my blood, trapped inside two fragile little prisons, always touching but never quite meeting.

I brought them to my lips, squeezing my eyes shut— I could never get rid of them. Never.

If I crushed them right now, if I just closed my fist and shattered them into a thousand tiny shards, maybe this whole nightmare would shatter with them? Maybe I would wake up and he would still be here, begging me not to send him away? Maybe I could've made a different choice? Maybe he would wrap his arms around me again and swear that he would never hurt me, and maybe this time I would believe him?

But I didn't crush them-- I couldn't.

Instead, I pressed the glass harder against my lips until I tasted the salt of my tears on the rim.

At least in this form, we could be together.

Forever.

(a/n: ... sorry not sorry. this was heartbreaking to write, believe me. but this isn't the last chapter, that will be the next, and y'all are in for a RIDE!! thank you so so much for reading this, aaaand just quick psa, I will not be compensating anyone for their possible need for an ambulance or any funeral services cause I'm obv evil:))) JK MWAH🥹🌸 THANK YOUUU<333)

here are all the chapters!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13

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@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine @scarledy @chaneloberlin62727

@belovedmoony @lokitargaryen @vienneviennaxx @ellie1725

@taintandviolent @sweatyconnoisseurstrawberry @amidthechaos

[frillydolle]

Hiiii dolle! ۶ৎ

Hope ur well <3 My thought of the day is Fire Lookout Arthur Morgan helping a lost young lady in the woods or talking through the radio to his fellow fire lookout lady friend all night long bc neither of them sleep well ♡ I've been thinking about it all day

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ epilogue spoilers , older!arthur morgan , no tb , umm slightly naive reader?? , mid to low honor arthur.

“anyone there?...”

arthur has been living alone ever since the whole micah situation. everyone had their own lives by now but sometimes he felt lonely since hes now on his own; john and abigail were now married, sadie was a bounty hunter, and the other women had a life of their own. hell, mary-beth became a well-known author. he even bought some of her novels even if they weren't much to his taste.

only now, the age was getting to him. his hair was now speckled with black and white like salt and pepper, his wrinkles were more prominent than beofre, grunts and groans would leave his lips if he's been bending or sitting down for too long due to his back. he didn't mind it too much, he just wanted some company. he missed the gang sometimes, the lively chatter and laughter since it was home.

in recent years, he has never heard a voice through the radio, not one peep. it was forever him, the fire lookout tower and the forest that surrounded him and he'd never complain about nature. hell, his journal is filled with sketches and doodles that he's seen on his travels. it's always been silent. but oh, the way his heart skipped a beat, hearing your sweet through the radio... you seems real kind. who was he to not help a pretty sounding girl like you?

“..hi there, miss. y'alrigh?”

“oh, thank god! i was starting to get nervous.. i think im lost, sir.”

you were a silly girl getting yourself in a situation like that. the region of roanoke ridge wasn't always safe, the dangers of the animals before thirst or starvation got to you first. either way, it was still odd that a soft-spoken girl like.

“i was meetin' my friends on the other side, but i got lost, im not sure what to do.. could you help me? im really hungry..” “i'll do my best to, miss.”

he heard you sigh a relief, the sounds of sticks and leaves being stepped on with every move, the gentle breeze of the wind in the background every time you spoke. you just sound so pretty. he was a little excited to have company again after so long.

“y'see that fire lookout anywhere?”

silence.

“yes! i see it!” you say with an exciting tone, seeing him wave. you waved back, unsure if he could even see you. oh, you were so relieved, you finally saw someone after hours of being lost. you almost had to pinch yourself just to make sure he was real.

and he was real. he was ready to help you.

“make yer way over 'nd ill met ya halfway.”

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 8

Weeks [1] [2] [3] [4/5/6] [7]

Hello this weeks fic reading brought to you by the fact that I haven't "worked" since 2/18. Anyway.. if you notice a sudden trend in the Sterek fics I'm not sure what to say. I tripped into the "Firefighter Derek Hale" tag and haven't seen the light of day since oops.

Buddie: 14 Sterek: 15

that timelines chat by disasterbuck, Veronae | @disasterbuck | @veronae-buddie (2025•T•32.6K)

On a seemingly ordinary night in 2022, Buck receives a text from what he assumes is a wrong number and goes along with it for lack of anything better to do. But it quickly becomes evident that nothing about this night is ordinary, as he finds himself texting an Eddie Diaz five years in the past, before he's moved to LA and joined the 118. What happens during the next twenty-four hours will change Buck's and Eddie's lives forever. Eddie: like I said, I just wanted to update my phone Eddie: maybe I did something to it 👀 Buck: of course YOU would try to update your phone and end up texting the future 🤣 Eddie: hey! Buck: technology really doesn’t like you, does it? Buck: 😇

Was I even on your way? by rangerdanger (mxgicxltrxgedy) | @call-me-medusa (2025•M•3K)

A soft knock starts on the door. “Buck?” It’s Eddie. Of course it’s Eddie. “Are you feeling okay?” Buck feels like he’s going to throw up. “No." “Can I come in?” Buck closes his eyes. He tries to take another deep breath, trying to remind himself he’s in Eddie’s bathroom, in Eddie’s house, probably the safest place he’s ever been in L.A, and that he’s not in an office trying to talk about a kid’s death. He scoots closer to the toilet, resting his back on the edge of the tub, “Yeah.” - Or, Buck gets reminded of something that happened he'd rather forget.

come ride on me (i mean camaraderie) by heygirltimeformorning | @heygirltimeformorning (2025•E•4.5K)

“Eddie, this isn’t -- casual for me,” Buck says finally, like he’s cutting the wires to a bomb. “I can’t -- I don’t do casual anymore.” He looks up at Eddie, open and bleeding, totally disarmed. He’s the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen. Buck takes a breath, looks down, shakes his head. “I mean,” he says, “I can’t do casual with you.” “Who,” Eddie asks, very quietly, “said anything about casual?”

Cheeseburger in Paradise by Bookworm0303 | @insertlovelyperson (2025•E•20.2K)

“Swingers,” Buck gasped, eyes wide and mouth agape, “Eddie, they’re swingers.” Immediately, Eddie blanked, fork clattering against his dish as he ran through every possible way he could try to deny it. More or less recovered, he eventually shook his head and laughed, “What? No. No, they’re not.” “Yes,” the other gritted out, frantically gesturing back at the two couples at the bar, “they are.” Turning in his seat, Eddie watched as the pair of husbands quite literally swapped wives, getting rather cozy with their new partner for the evening. And... ok, damn. Sure. Clearing his throat as he turned back around, he was willing to make a partial concession, “Ok. Fine. Maybe those four are, but—” That’s when Buck got to pointing: “And them. And them. And definitely them.” Each assessment more damning than the last. --- or Eddie plans a vacation for the first (and likely last) time in his life.

Second date update by kyote_ugly | @kyoteugly (2025•T•1.9K)

The story takes place between the 1st and 2nd seasons, different first meeting. Buck's friends convince him to go on a blind date to get over Abby, and Eddie, well, Eddie is training to be a firefighter - he's divorced, new in town, and of course his friend from the academy wants to help him navigate the LA dating scene. And you, my dear reader, you're sitting in traffic on your way to work, listening to the radio...

The Blondie Theory by facewithoutheart | @facewithoutheart (2025•T•5.7K)

Grace hates running into people from high school. But she always kind of wondered about Eddie Diaz. So when Eddie moves back to El Paso, Grace finally gets a chance to prove a theory, make a new friend, meet her long distance girlfriend, and end a ship war. AKA 5 times Grace Matthews runs into her former classmate, Eddie Diaz, and 1 time she runs into one of those two nurses, Evan Buckley.

do you believe in magic? by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•GA•5.6K)

Buck’s magic has been infatuated with Eddie since the moment Buck laid eyes on the man. It didn’t matter that Buck himself had less than pleasant feelings towards Eddie, his magic decided that Eddie was the love of its life and it was going to do anything it could to be near him. This went against Buck’s own feelings because of the whole not liking Eddie for exactly two days and also because Buck has always been told to keep his magic a secret.

reeling with the feeling by dykeries | @buddiesbian (2025•E•3.7K)

“We are not calling 911.” Eddie groans into Buck’s shoulder. “I don’t want to either. But I think we have to.” Buck shakes his head and then regrets it. He’s like, eighty percent sure there’s a bleeding cut on the back of his head and he’s gotten blood on the shower tile. “We’ll figure something else out.” “Like what?” Eddie tries to shift his weight off Buck again and immediately flops back down. “Ugh.” “I don’t know. Dying here. We had a pretty good run.” “They’ll put it on our tombstone,” Eddie says mournfully. “Here lie Buck and Eddie: too old for shower sex.” “Aw, babe,” Buck says, oddly touched. “You’d want a joint tombstone?”

No one can ever know about this. Except for Hen.

Eddie and the bee-tee-dubs by telldebatz | @singitforthegirls (2025•GA•1.6K)

Eddie didn't expect this once he got back from Texas with Chris, but somehow, he's not that surprised either. Buck acquires a cat in Eddie's absence, which is fine, but it shares Eddie's name, and that might become a problem. (It's a short, cute fic about Buddie and a cat. Enjoy.)

Inside Keeps Building by Minalover | @minalover (2024•E•34.4K)

"“My luggage got delayed coming in from Phoenix but it should be in tomorrow.” Eddie is, of course, not fine. He hasn’t been fine since he left for El Paso yesterday. He suspects he wasn’t fine long before that, but he was able to keep it beaten back with a stick. Not so much anymore. “That sucks.” They’ve been different since Eddie made the decision to move to El Paso a few weeks back. He could have sworn Buck was okay. He was okay in the kitchen that day, when he flipped the iPad over and unearthed Eddie’s tender familial burns. He was okay on the couch, the couch Eddie had to leave behind, the couch he mourns for reasons too complicated to think about. He was okay on the virtual call with the real estate agent. He was okay. They were okay. “Yeah, it really does. All of my underwear was in that luggage.” They don’t feel okay." or: Eddie follows Christopher to El Paso or or: the sexting fic I promised myself

i wanna feel you from the inside by shortndiaz (2025•E•4.2K)

Starts with ‘wanna go for the title?’ and ends in some blood and sex

Feeding by pickdotter (2025•E•2.4K)

Everything needs sustenance; matter, weaving into movement. Hunger is a passion for life. Eddie hungers, while Buck’s pulse thumps with it, blood. *** Vampire!Eddie shows up at Buck's front door.

forever is the sweetest con by becausebuckley | @becausebuckley (2025•E•37.9K)

“Buck,” Eddie says, a small smile curving at the edge of his mouth, “wanna get married? For our honeymoon, we’ll scam your parents out of some money and make Ravi’s accountant do our taxes.” “Well,” Buck says drily, “that sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.” “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, in his very best – meaning very bad – impression of Buck when he gets his hands on a clipboard. “What was that?” “Yes, Eddie,” Buck says, putting on an air of suffering despite the butterflies making themselves at home in his stomach. Man, whoever Eddie ends up proposing to for realsies is gonna be so lucky. “I’ll marry you.” or: buck is invited to a family reunion and realises that there's a good chunk of money waiting for him. there’s one issue, though: he has to be married to claim it, and right now, he’s painfully single. it’s a good thing he has such a great best friend in eddie, right?

H-E-A-T-A/B/O: A Buddie Anthology by Bucksbelly (drarryweasley) | @bucksbelly [WIP] (2025•E•41.2K)

An anthology of Buddie one-shots based in omegaverse settings. These stories are NOT connected; they each have slightly different lore and can be read in any order!Brought to you by I wanted to write my favorite trope but couldn't decide how to do it so I wrote a bunch of them

I don't want the world, but I'll take this city (2025•E•9.5K)

"Let. Him. Go." Eddie demands, deathly still so he doesn't pounce. "Why? Because he smells like yours?" The second prisoner taunts. "I bet you haven't even told him yet." "Told me what?" Buck snaps, slightly breathless. At least he's not choking. "Come on, Dom, stop fucking around," Mitchell agrees, rolling his eyes at the display. "We're on the clock, here." But Dom hasn't taken his gaze off of Eddie, and vice versa. His smirk grows. "You'll thank me for this one day," he says, and before anyone can move, he sinks his teeth into Buck's neck.

Thank You by JoMouse | @josjournal (2019•T•12.3K)

Stiles is a firefighter with BHFD Ladder 30. He hates the new guy...until he doesn't. For Sterek Week 2019 Scene Stealers - basically Sterek as Buddie from 9-1-1.

Anchoring by rororowyourboat | @rosieposiepuddingnpie (2025•T•3.1K)

Stiles is Derek's anchor, but Derek deserves so much more than one person as an anchor. Stiles decides to help Derek find joy in life again.

Champagne Problems by fairytalesandfolklore | @fairytales-and-folklore (2021•T•1.7K)

Stiles has got champagne problems. No, really. He's had way too many mimosas. A game of tipsy truth or dare at a New Year's Eve pack party ends with Stiles accidentally blurting out that he's in love with Derek…right in front of the sourwolf himself.

"Alright, fine," Erica simpers. "I dare you to tell us who you've got a crush on." "Because we all know there's someone," Lydia insists, giving him a pointed look. "Someone you've clearly been pining after for years now," Danny agrees. "So just come clean, Stilinski. Tell us who it is." Stiles, who is absolutely smashed off his ass at this point in the game, rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. "Nice try, assholes," he teases with a sing-song lilt and a self-satisfied smile. "But there's no way in hell I'm ever gonna tell you I'm in love with Derek, so you can just—" Somewhere in the distance, a champagne flute shatters, and suddenly, Derek is just there, looming in the distance, eyebrows arched so high they practically straddle his hairline.

nonchalant about your own mortality by honestlydarkprincess | @honestlydarkprincess (2025•T•1.1K)

Derek gets hurt after sacrificing himself for the pack yet again and Stiles is angry about it.

He's Not Mine by Sunnee (2013•E•68.5K)

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Stuck on Repeat by pyrrhical (anoyo) | @approximatelytrue (2017•M•77.2K)

Twelve years after leaving Beacon Hills, and everything it represented, Stiles is a well-respected analyst at the CIA. Unfortunately, life likes its irony, and Stiles finds his pretty fabulous CIA career turned on its side when an asset-turned-mark turns out to be a little less than human.

can't be trusted to treasure your heart like i do by honestlydarkprincess | @honestlydarkprincess (2025•T•1.3K)

Derek chases after Stiles and they make up.

Safe by Hedwig221b | @hedwig221b (2023•NR•976)

“Where is he?” Stiles rumbled, glancing at each member of the pack in front of him, before settling his incinerating gaze on one person he once considered a brother. “Tell me, Scott, where is my husband?”

The Faded Line by GrimReaperlover11 (2022•T•31K)

Stiles sometimes hated being an omega, always being treated like the low man on the totem pole. His ideology is only proven to be correct one night on his way home from a night out with Scott when an alpha tries to take advantage of him. however before he can be defiled, he finds a savior in another alpha, one that has his omega howling with want. when his hero takes him home and cares for him, Stiles doesn't want him to leave. Maybe he won't.

The Outstation by CabbageOriley (2020•GA•23K)

Stiles is the newest hire at the Beacon Hills Fire Department. What will happen when he gets stationed at the outstation referred to as the Hale Hole? He's going to die, that's what. He's going to die and… fall in love?

this loving could save me by hot_damn_louis | @bisexualagenda (2020•NR•16.9K)

“Someone put shaving cream in my helmet again,” Derek growled, his arms tense. “And who could that be?” Stiles asked, feigning innocence. He elbowed Derek playfully as he half jogged over to the rig, hopping into the passenger seat. aka Stiles and Derek have been working in the same firehouse for a while, and they might be a little more obvious about their feelings than they think.

Emergency Love by Kedreeva | @kedreeva (2012•E•13.5K)

Wherein Derek is a firefighter and Stiles is a paramedic, and they just keep meeting.

stop, drop, and roll by thepsychicclam | @thepsychicclam (2014•M•12.2K)

Stiles knows he's in trouble when he invites the Beacon Hills Fire Department into his third grade classroom and he can't stop staring at a certain scruffy fireman. But after the third graders take a field trip to the fire station and participate in the fire department's holiday canned food drive, Stiles can't ignore his crush any longer.

a glimpse of you and me by Winchesterek | @sterekbros (2023•E•12.1K)

“You write about soulmates?” Derek asked, sounding curious as he leaned in. “I didn't know there was a market for children’s books about that.” “Yeah, it’s starting to pick up traction the last few years. I know there weren't many books like this when I was a kid, but maybe things would’ve been different if there had been.” Stiles shrugged. Then he paused, wetting his lips as he tried to control his breathing. “Do…you believe in soulmates?”

A drag queen and a cop walk into an apartment building... by DropsOfAddiction (2020•E•16.4K)

Stiles tries not to whimper as Derek gets closer. Stiles had forgotten just how intense space invader Derek could be. If Derek was boner inducing when Stiles knew him before, equal parts terrifying and sexy, back at the age of twenty four, well... it’s not a patch on what thirty year old Derek’s got going for him. Derek’s still got a stupid leather jacket and his black hair is slightly longer than Stiles remembers. The stubble is longer too, not quite a beard but still neatly shaped in a way that makes his cheekbones stand out. And the eyes, shit, the eyes. He’s staring at Stiles with this stormy mix of grey, blue and about a thousand other colours thrown in and Stiles couldn’t break eye contact if he wanted to. Derek fucking Hale, ladies and gentlemen.

[indiepascal]

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

#3 ONE-SHOT inspired by Two Princes by Spin Doctors.

Summary: Frankie and Santiago, both retired soldiers, unknowingly find themselves dating the same woman—you. At the men's night out, Frankie casually asks Santiago if he’s dating you, sparking a realization that they’re both involved with you. Tension builds as both men confront the situation, and when you step in their trap, you're left to choose between them.

Tw: +18 mdni, love triangle, petnames (baby, my love, hermosa, cariño), threesome, swearing, possessive!Frankie, possessive!Santiago, oral f and m!receiving, fingering, praise, unprotected piv (wrap it y'all), dirty talk, creampie, pinching nipples.

A/n: this one took me forever but I LOVED every single part of it. First Triple Frontier smut in the series, I hope you enjoy it :) !! word count: 3,228

← Previous songs

The night started like many others—whiskey glasses clinking, low conversations in the haze of a dimly lit bar. Frankie and Santiago sat at a small, round table in the back, their usual spot whenever they found time to catch up. The bar hummed with distant chatter and the occasional burst of laughter, but between them, an uneasy silence had begun to settle.

Frankie leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the room, but his thoughts were far away. He had a vague sense that something was off, something about you. You’d been distant the last couple of times they’d met, slipping out of conversations just a little too quickly, your texts arriving at odd hours. It wasn’t just that, though; it was the way you moved—like you were playing a game neither of them were fully aware of.

Santiago, on the other hand, was quiet, his expression harder to read than usual. He was watching you, too, even though he hadn’t admitted it yet. Every time you’d smiled at one of them, his gaze would shift, just a little too sharply. And each time you mentioned your other plans, whether it was with family, work, or anything that didn’t involve them, it didn’t sit right.

For a brief moment, Frankie could swear that he saw your profile picture when Santiago was texting someone so fondly. He rolled a cigarette between his fingers, brows furrowed. “You ever get the feeling you’re being played, man?”

Santiago took a slow sip of his drink, eyes narrowing slightly. “Depends on the game.”

Frankie exhaled a short chuckle but didn’t look up. “Her name ever come up in your head when I say that?”

Santiago didn’t answer at first. He simply stared at the dark amber liquid in his glass, then sighed. “You talking about her?”

Frankie finally met his gaze. The weight in the air shifted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Santiago said, but his tone was off—too measured, too controlled.

Frankie smirked and glancing at his phone. “Yeah, you do.”

Another pause, longer this time. Santiago leaned back, rubbing his jaw. “Fuck.”

Frankie laughed, but there was no real humor in it. “Yeah. Fuck.”

The realization settled between them, heavy and electric. The woman they both thought they had something special with—the one who had been slipping between them without a single misstep—was playing them both. And damn if that wasn’t impressive.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Then Frankie pulled out his phone and set it on the table. “We could call her out.”

Santiago scoffed. “Or?”

Frankie lifted an eyebrow, mischief creeping into his expression. “We could have some fun with this.”

Santiago studied him, then let out a quiet laugh. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Frankie tilted his gaze toward Santiago's phone. “Now that you're having a conversation with her, invite her. Same place, same time, and I'll join you.”

Santiago chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re in.”

A beat. Then Santiago smirked. “Yeah. I’m in.”

Then Santiago hit sent.

The hotel room was dimly lit, the air thick with the kind of tension that could snap in an instant. Frankie sat in an armchair near the bar, Santiago leaning against the window with arms crossed. They had been quiet for the past few minutes, lost in separate memories—kisses stolen in dark corners, whispered words that felt meant just for them. And yet, they had never really been hers alone.

“You pissed?” Frankie finally asked, voice low.

Santiago exhaled through his nose, something between a sigh and a laugh. “I was.” He turned to look at him. “You?”

Frankie thought about it, then shook his head. “Not anymore.”

Santiago nodded, pushing off the window. “Gotta hand it to her, though. The way she kept us both hooked without either of us noticing?” He let out a low whistle. “That takes skill.”

Frankie chuckled. “Yeah. Kinda impressive when you think about it.”

A beat. Then Santiago tilted his head slightly. “What if we don’t make her choose?”

Frankie’s gaze darkened with something unreadable. “Thought about that too.”

Santiago smirked. “And?”

Frankie’s lips curved into a slow grin. “I think we make the offer.”

A knock at the door.

They shared one last look before Santiago pushed off the wall and moved to answer it. When the door swung open, you stood there—expecting one man, and finding both.

Your lips parted slightly, eyes flickering between them as realization dawned. But before you could speak, Frankie leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“We figured it out,” he said, voice smooth, almost amused.

Santiago leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “And we got a proposition for you.”

You should be angry. Maybe you should be scared, or at the very least, nervous. But instead, there was a strange kind of exhilaration blooming inside you. The thought of being caught between them—the tension of it all—felt like a delicious challenge. Your heart raced, but not out of fear. No, it’s something else, something darker.

Frankie tilted his head, voice dropping. “Don’t look so nervous, cariño.”

Santiago smirked. “You wanted both of us, didn’t you?”

The air in the room shifted, thickened, humming with something almost dangerous.

Frankie held out a hand, inviting. “Then take us both.”

Silence.

The door clicked shut behind you, the sound final, sealing you into this moment with them. A part of you wanted to run, but another part—the part you’ve tried to ignore—welcomed the chaos. There was no turning back now. You stepped into their game, and a shiver ran down your spine as their eyes locked onto yours, a silent promise of whatever it was you were re willing to accept.

“Listen, I…” You hesitated for a moment. “I'm sorry, dating you both separately was wrong but this… is fucked up.”

Santiago's expression softened slightly, his voice gentle but firm. “We know it's unconventional, baby. But hear us out. We both care about you, deeply. And we've… discussed this at length. We want to give you a choice, to be with both of us, fully and completely.”

“More sure than anything else in our lives,” Santiago whispered, stepping closer. “We're not just saying this to get you into bed, hermosa.” He exchanged a glance with Frankie, who nodded in agreement. “Though,” Frankie added with a slight smirk, “if you're worried about how it works...”

Frankie chuckled, his smirk widening. He uncrossed his legs and stood up, towering over you. “Let me demonstrate,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. He looked at Santiago, who already knew what Frankie was planning. “Santiago, come here.”

Santiago moved closer, pressing himself against your back. You were sandwiched between the two men, their hard bodies caging you in. Frankie tilted your head up, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, while Santiago started trailing kisses down your neck, his hands roaming your body.

“See?” Frankie whispered against your lips, trailing kisses along your jaw as Santiago continued kissing your neck. “The way you melt between us... it feels right, doesn't it?” Santiago's hands moved to your waist, pulling you firmly against his hardness while Frankie placed possessive hands on your hips.

Santiago whispered against your ear, his breath hot. “No need to overthink it now.” Frankie captured your lips again, then broke away to nip at your bottom lip. “Let us worship you, mi amor. Let us give you everything you need.”

With a low growl, Frankie picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently. Santiago followed, crawling over you to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. Frankie started undressing you slowly, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin.

“Just relax, baby” Santiago murmured, his fingers trailing teasingly along your stomach as Frankie finished undressing you. Frankie's hands roamed your body hungrily, squeezing your breasts and teasing your nipples until they hardened. “God, you're gorgeous” he breathed.

Watching them pleasuring you made you bit your bottom lip.

“Don't fucking do that,” Santiago said suddenly. “If you bite that lip, I swear to god, I'll make you pay.” He looked at Frankie, who smirked and bent his head to suck the lip out of your mouth, soothing it with gentle bites and kisses.

“Mmm, you like that, don't you?” Frankie murmured after they quickly heard your sweet sounds, switching his attention to your neck and marking you with his teeth. Santiago watched, his eyes darkening with desire. He started undressing, revealing his muscular chest and abs. “Let's see how you handle us both.”

Frankie undressed slowly, deliberately, maintaining eye contact with you. His movements were graceful, almost predatory. The dim lighting cast shadows across his powerful body, making every muscle definition clear. Santiago moved to your side, running his fingers through your hair. “Spread your legs, baby,” he whispered.

“Wait!” Suddenly you came back to Earth. “I've never done this before... you know? A threesome.”

“We know,” Frankie said, his voice soft and reassuring. He settled between your legs, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. “We'll go slow, make sure you're comfortable.” Santiago nodded, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Just tell us to stop if it's too much, okay?”

With gentle care, both men explored your body. Frankie focused between your legs while Santiago kissed your neck, breasts, and stomach. They worked in sync, complementing each other's touches perfectly. Frankie's tongue found your clit, making you arch against his mouth. “Fuck, you taste amazing as usual, hermosa” he growled.

It was too much pleasure to handle. They were so skilled each one of them, you always knew that, but together you could feel like moaning even louder than normal.

“God, listen to those noises,” Santiago growled, watching Frankie feast between your legs. He captured your lips again, swallowing your moans. His hands massaged your breasts, tweaking your nipples. Frankie pushed two fingers inside you, making you buck against his hand. “She really likes that,” Santiago murmured, his fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head back further. He claimed your mouth again in a deep, possessive kiss as Frankie continued to worship between your thighs. “Frankie, two fingers, okay?” he asked, breaking the kiss briefly and Frankie nodded.

“Mmm, you're so tight, hermosa. I'm gonna stretch this pretty sweet pussy so good” Frankie groaned against your pussy as he pushed two fingers inside you. His touch was gentle yet firm, slowly stretching you open. You moaned into Santiago's mouth as he continued to kiss you passionately. The combination of their touches was overwhelming but pleasurable.

Santiago broke the kiss, his breath ragged. He looked into your eyes, checking in. “You okay, baby?” You nodded, whimpering slightly as Frankie began to curl his fingers inside you, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back. Santiago smiled approvingly.

“Mmm, found your sweet spot, didn't we?” Frankie chuckled darkly, maintaining that perfect rhythm with his fingers. Santiago moved to your breasts, sucking one nipple while teasing the other with his fingers. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure coursing through you.

“God, you're so responsive,” Frankie groaned, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. Santiago switched to your other breast, ensuring both nipples were equally flushed and hard. “She's ready, Frankie.” Santiago whispered between breaths. “I'm going to get you properly wet, baby.”

Santiago repositioned himself, settling between your legs alongside Frankie. His tongue joined Frankie's, both now lavishing attention on your soaked pussy. Frankie continued fingering you firmly while Santiago licked and sucked, focusing on your clit. Their tongues danced together, teasing your folds.

The room filled with your whimpers and the wet sounds of their mouths and fingers working in tandem. Frankie and Santiago glanced at each other, smirking wickedly as they heard your pleasure-filled moan. They increased their efforts, tongues flicking faster over your clit while Frankie's fingers pumped steadily. Santiago reached up, tweaking a nipple sharply, the sting contrasting beautifully with the pleasure assaulting your core.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets tightly as the overwhelming sensation pushed you closer to the edge. Frankie felt your walls contracting around his fingers, signaling your impending orgasm. He looked up at you, his face glistening with your arousal, and whispered, “Come for us, hermosa. Let us taste it together.” As Frankie's words washed over you, combined with their relentless attention to your sensitive spots, your orgasm crashed through you spectacularly. Your body shuddered violently as waves of pleasure consumed you. Frankie and Santiago didn't let up, continuing to lap at your dripping pussy, prolonging your climax.

As your orgasm subsided, Frankie and Santiago finally pulled back, their faces covered in your juices. Breaking apart, they climbed up the bed, Frankie on your left and Santiago on your right.

Both men propped themselves up on their elbows, studying your flushed, satisfied face. Their cocks were rock hard, but they took their time, caressing your skin softly. “You alright, mi amor?” Frankie asked gently, trailing fingers through your hair. Santiago leaned in to kiss your shoulder.

“Not scared off yet?“ Santiago joked softly, his fingers trailing down your stomach possessively.

You laughed softly, making both men smile. “No,” you admitted. “This is... surprisingly hot.” You bit your lip again, making Santiago growl.

“Spread your legs again, baby,” Santiago's command was low and rumbling, his eyes locked onto yours.

As you complied, spreading your thighs, Frankie positioned himself between your legs, running his hands up your inner thighs possessively. “Lift your legs up, hermosa” Frankie instructed, his voice firm and demanding.

You lifted your legs, wrapping them around his waist instinctively. In response, he wrapped his arms under your knees, lifting them higher and spreading you wide open. The position was vulnerable, yet incredibly turned on. Santiago leaned in, his hand joining Frankie's to hold your legs apart.

“Fuck, you look so sexy like this,” Frankie growled, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. Santiago leaned down to kiss you, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you steady. “We're going to fuck you together, baby,” he murmured against your lips.

With a single thrust, Frankie pushed into you, his thick length filling you completely. You gasped into Santiago's mouth, your body stretching to accommodate him. At the same time, Santiago guided his own cock to your lips, pressing the head against your mouth. “Open your little mouth, baby,” Santiago cooed softly, guiding his cock into your mouth. You took him greedily, moaning around his shaft as Frankie began to move inside you, his hips thrusting slowly and deeply. The simultaneous sensations of being filled in both your mouth and your pussy were intense.

“Oh fuck, she's so tight,” Frankie groaned, picking up the pace of his thrusts. His hands tightened on your legs as he drove into you harder, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. Santiago matched his rhythm, fucking your mouth with long, deep strokes.

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to take both men, your body overwhelmed with pleasure and slight discomfort. Santiago wiped away your tears gently with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth alongside his shaft. “Take it all, baby, I know you can,” he panted, his voice strained with effort.

You managed to relax your throat, taking Santiago deeper. He growled approvingly, his hips snapping forward faster. Frankie watched, his eyes darkening with lust. He released one of your legs, snaking his hand down to rub your clit, making you moan loudly around Santiago's shaft.

“Jesus Christ,” Santiago hissed as your moan vibrated against his cock. Frankie continued circling your clit expertly, making your pussy tighten around him.

The room filled with the sound of wet skin slapping against skin, soft moans muffled by Santiago's thick length in your mouth.

“Gonna come soon,” Frankie panted, his fingers moving faster on your clit. “Want to fill this tight little pussy up.” He looked at Santiago. “You close too, buddy?” Santiago nodded, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “Fuck yeah. She's got the best mouth.”

“Come for us, baby,” Frankie commanded, pinching your clit hard. The sudden jolt of pain mixed with intense pleasure pushed you over the edge. You came with a muffled scream, your pussy convulsing around Frankie's cock, your throat convulsing around Santiago's.

“Shit!” Frankie hissed, his thrusts losing rhythm as your orgasm milked his shaft.

“She's gonna make me come.” Santiago groaned, his hips snapping forward harshly. “Swallow baby. Swallow it when I come... Only the way you know” He warned, his voice hoarse with need.

As if on cue, both men came almost simultaneously. Frankie's hot cum filled your pussy, dripping out around his thick shaft. Meanwhile, Santiago held your head still as he unloaded his own hot, sticky load into your throat. You gagged slightly but obediently swallowed every drop.

Both men slumped forward, draping their bodies over yours as they tried to catch their breath. Frankie's cock slipped out of your pussy with a wet pop, cum leaking out. Santiago stroked your cheek affectionately, his semi-hard cock slipping from your lips. “Fuck that was hot, baby,” Santiago whispered, his thumb gently wiping the corner of your mouth.

Frankie, still propped up on his elbows, leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss on your shoulder. “You okay, hermosa?” Frankie asked, his voice husky from exertion.

You whimpered softly, snuggling closer to the warmth of their bodies. Frankie chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist possessively. “She always gets like this after,” He murmured to Santiago.

Santiago smiled, cradling you against his chest. “I know. Like a kitten,” Santiago laughed softly, nuzzling your neck. “You get all snuggly and whiny, baby.”

Frankie watched as your body went boneless and docile, your eyes half-lidded with satisfaction.

“What are we gonna do after this?” You asked a little bit worried at how things flew. Now they both knew you used to date them at the same time and deep down it hurt you that everything must change now.

“What do you want to do, hermosa?” Frankie asked seriously, his playfulness gone. He sat up, his abs tightening. “You wanna make this a regular thing? Or was this a one-time thing?” He watched your face carefully. Santiago mirrored Frankie's serious expression, waiting for your answer.

“Honestly, I don't know” You hesitated.

“You're not sure if you want to have sex with two guys again?” Santiago asked carefully, his voice unreadable. “Or you're not sure if you want this to be a thing?” He added when you didn't answer immediately. Frankie watched your face closely, his expression unclosing.

“Is it because society might judge us?” Frankie asked softly, his voice gentle. “Or is it because you're not sure about us, personally?” He searched your eyes. “We can keep this a secret if you want, but we both really like you, hermosa. This isn't just about the sex for us. You know that.”

Just as the silence lingered, the iconic strains of Two Princes by Spin Doctors began to play from the stereo, its upbeat rhythm filling the room. You all paused, and then, with a shared chuckle, recognized the ironic coincidence of the song choice. A song about two men competing for the love of one woman—how fitting for the moment. You laughed at the absurdity of it all, knowing that the universe had an odd sense of humor.

(dividers by @saradika-graphics)

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

It really is fascinating that SO MUCH of what's spread about Jason via word of mouth apparently came from opposite world

The other Bats keep trying to reach out and connect with Jason and he keeps pushing them away? He grumbles and pretends to hate every bit of affection they try to show him? Absolutely not! Jason is constantly trying to reach out to them and is so down to receive/give a hug that Damian successfully used it against him in combat. Like, yes, half of Jason's bonding attempts were saw traps, but being bad at connecting with people does not mean he isn't consistently the one trying and the one reaching out and the one getting rejected.

Jason loves joking about his death? The other Bats walk on eggshells around the topic for fear of upsetting each other or him? Haha nope! Not unless we're talking exclusively about the Gotham Knights video game! Jason avoids talking about it at all, because it upsets him. Meanwhile the other bats are perfectly comfortable joking about his death to his face at his expense. Like some of those jokes have been cruel. It was only before he came back that they hesitated to say anything about Jason for fear that it would upset Bruce.

Dick and the others call him nicknames like 'Little Wing' that he finds embarrassing? Nuh uh! Jason is the one who loves giving the other Bats little affectionate nicknames. Jason is cheerfully calling him Dickie-Bird and it's making Dick's eye twitch.

Jason used to hate Tim? False! Jason has basically always liked Tim, meanwhile Tim used to loathe Jason so much that I've seen serious Tim analysis say it feels out of character.

Jason holds grudges forever and ever and ever? No. Jason forgives extremely easily. Like. Unhealthy easily. Here's a small sample of some things he forgave immediately without even being given an apology: being lured to his death, being drugged and implanted with a torture brain chip, being arrested and thrown in prison, being beaten bloody and thrown out of his home and city, having his throat slit and left to die. Not being avenged is kinda it in terms of grudges, and after UtRH, I'm not even sure if he still holds that one!

Idk, like sometimes one of the bats will be sympathetic to him? (Tim in Night Terrors and RHatO and one or two other things. Stephanie and Babs in Man Who Stopped Laughing, the alternate universes of Gotham Knights and Three Jokers) But pre-flashpoint and even most of the time now, the rest of the Bats are downright nasty to him.

It's so jarring too, because you'll be in Jason's head and he's going "yeah, this is Tim, The Best of Us, and my favorite :3" and then you swap to Tim who thinks of him and he's like "yeah, that's Jason, he's an asshole but at least his brute strength is useful on the rare occasions you can get his crazy, stupid, reckless, incompetent ass to listen to reason", and it's like that with almost every character! Even Duke, who has the least screen time so far and the fewest reasons to conflict with Jason, has apparently already racked up a compilation post worth of insulting him!

I think if you ignored everything pre-flashpoint and worked very hard at cherry picking and pretended that they were laughing with him and not at him, then maaaaayyyyyybe you could come up with a selection of comics to support Opposite World Jason being real? But on the whole I think there's far more weight on the side of the rest of the Bats just really not liking the guy, and treating him more akin to a Supervillain they have a temporary alliance with than someone who they actually enjoy being around.

All the haters have done is conclude that the other characters' attitude towards him is justified. *shrug*

(also a personal buggaboo of mine that isn't a relationship thing at all: people keep claiming that Morrison wrote Jason at his most violent and that is patently false! Morrison wrote Jason way less violent than Winnick who came back in like "Hey! Stop ignoring his crimes, we worked very hard on those!! >:P" and promptly had Jason slaughter nearly a hundred people at once)

The thing is that Jason haters get his relationships with the other bats much better than people who like Jason but are generally Batfam fans.

Those characters do not like Jason, they will always throw him under the bus when needed. He's the convenient scapegoat and it's easy to just put him aside because they don't need to inconvenience themselves with his presence there.

Also, whether or not you see them as a nuclear family, they do not support the member of the family that is just a bit harder to deal with - and no one is obligated to, but the thing is that, at the end of the day, the other bats will be there for each other, but they won't for Jason, because that would be just a bit harder.

(also, before anyone says "but they tried to reach out" - no, they didn't, not in any way that would be understood as such).

[homehauntsyou]

someone mentions 04x04 from the CW's Supernatural (2005-2020) and suddenly I'm just there !

[fadefromthelight]

Wataru and Keisuke on a winter date!

As for the dog, Rachel and I decided that Wataru needs a dog and Miran was created. I love her so much, she's my sweet girl.

[uniquezombiedestiny]

come on

please tell me

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[luimagines]

Hello! Don't worry I'm not requestion just asking a question that's been stuck in my head since I read your Dragon AU and enjoyed both Time and Warrior. I really have to ask: if Warrior is a fire dragon and Time seems to be some nature or forest dragon.... What about the other lu boys? What are their elements?

OOhhhhh!!!! I'm so happy you asked! I love dragon au!

Warrior is a fire dragon, yes. I like to think he can't really control his magic because of his over use of the fire rod during his adventure. :)

Time used to be a forest dragon, but with all the magic items he's dealt with in the past, he's absorbed a bit of everything, but the most of it was the Fierce Deity mask. It "purified" him a way that bleached his scales and changed the manner of his magic making him more of a dietic dragon.

Twilight would also be a forest dragon, but he would have massive scars down his back when his wings were torn away from him.

Wind would be a more serpentine sort of dragon, like dragonair from Pokémon that can control the wind. That's how he's able to still fly. :)

Hyrule is a dragon that uses pure energy. He's closer to the fairies than most and would deal out more plasma blasts in comparison. He was glass stained wings and bright orange feelers on his legs and neck that look like fur.

Wild became more of a chimera over timer after absorbing the Champion's powers but as a base he was also more serpentine like Wind. But more greenish in tint. After he manages to get his memories, the damage is done, giving him antlers, deer legs for arms, a mane and spikes on his once smooth and silky tail.

Legend is a dragon of a different sort entirely. He's a tiny pink jackalope with bat wings. His main magic was earth but during his travels it was put on the back burner and almost entirely forgotten. He can deal all sorts of magic instead because he's absorbed so much from all his items, but they're unpredictable and weak. He's a Jack of all Trades but too soft.

Good thing he's hella rich. Making him one of the top three most desirable dragons out of the group.

Four is a steel dragon with pale yellow scales that when hit by the light can reflect a multitude of colors back, like red, green, blue, purple- very nice. He's also very thin and serpentine in appearance but until Wind and Wild, he still has his four legs.

Sky is a lightning dragon with a closer resemblance to Toothless. He's earned the nickname Storm Lord as his dragonate title.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

you seem to have a good read on HQ and your takes are great, so i have a question...and if you'd rather not go there, please ignore this! but i see oikawa get called "arrogant" quite often and i'm curious, would you say he is? what is it that makes people think that? imo he has a plenty of flaws, but i truly don't think arrogance is one of them. self-centered, sure, but not arrogant i think. i'm open to being wrong, i'm just legit so confused by that particular criticism, it makes me doubting my reading comprehension. i feel like that one post that's like "free my man, he didn't do that. he did a lot of other stuff tho" LOL. if you do answer this, then thanks for your time!

oh, dear anon. this is a very very big question and i'm honored you think i am capable of providing an answer that does it justice!! i don't consider myself an oikawa expert by far, but i'll do my best because he's still very beloved to me, and i hope whatever i say helps!

(but also - maybe take what i say with a grain of salt LMAO)

anyways, to get the main point out of the way: i completely agree that oikawa isn't arrogant! i actually haven't seen any commentary about that myself (bless!!!), so i can't say for sure why some people might think that, but my guess is that they think his pridefulness = arrogance — they think that the confidence he has in himself and seijoh contributes nothing to their actual power and is utterly meaningless if they don't win, especially in the face of ushijima. which, like, come on. what kind of captain would he be if he wasn't confident in himself and his teammates? is he supposed to tell them that they're going to lose??? is he supposed to discourage their hard work and effort???

or maybe it's because oikawa acts like he's all that, but doesn't have anything to show for it. who does he think he is? what does he think his pride is worth? what right does he have to go around making grand declarations when he has nothing to his name?

(which isn't entirely true, either, but we'll get into that, promise.)

now, do i think that he can, occasionally, be flippant, shallow, and/or petty? yeah, sure. he's got one hell of a personality about it. even iwaizumi says as much. oikawa is great at being a little shit. it's one of my favorite things about him!

but is oikawa genuinely arrogant, or self-centered? well . . . i don't think so.

see, here's the thing about oikawa: he knows he's good, but he doesn't think he's good enough. i think it'd be easiest to really explain what that meant if we broke this down into two separate parts, so let's give it a go, shall we?

(buckle up, friends, because it's about to get LONG. also: TIMESKIP SPOILERS!! and there's a tldr at the start of the tags because. WOW.)

so, first things first: if people are calling oikawa arrogant, then i'm like 99% sure that they don't actually know what the word "arrogant" means.

"arrogant" is used to describe someone full of themselves. it's used to describe someone conceited and pompous. it's used to describe someone so assured of and invested in their self-importance that they don't care for other people, and if it seems like they do, then it's usually wildly off the mark and still serves to inflate their own egos.

oikawa has never once been like that. he's been pretty much the exact opposite, in fact.

and yeah, sure, by his third year of high school, he knows he's good at volleyball, and that's fine! it's perfectly all right to claim you're good at something if you have the skills/experience to back it up. confidence is healthy as long as it isn't in overabundance, and we actually see a lot of this throughout the series!

(not to mention that this was where ushijima fell short. he was overflowing with confidence. he did not believe, for even a single second, that hinata shouyou and his meager, scrappy little flock of crows could beat him.

but oikawa? he knew. he knew what it looked like to make something bloom.)

the key to oikawa's confidence that made him better was that he could pinpoint others' strengths and weaknesses just as well as he could with his own. and (bear with me, please, i might get kind of boring here bc it's nothing that hasn't been said in the manga before) i don't mean it in the way we see the coaches or more analytical players do, as observations to be taken advantage of by everyone else; i mean that in the sense of how vital it is to his position as a setter. that was always the biggest difference between oikawa and kageyama: no matter how much more raw talent kageyama had, no matter how much better oikawa believed him to be, kageyama, especially in the beginning, struggled to do what oikawa could with a team. kageyama struggled to bring out the best in each player. and it wasn't because he didn't know how -- oikawa freely admitted that kageyama had the skill for it, that kageyama, once he got his shit together, could win against him -- it was because kageyama didn't have that same confidence in himself.

(not until much later, anyways. but that's another story, for another time.)

so, oikawa's confident. he knows he's good. he can bring out the best in each player. he's got a killer serve (and a killer smile!), a mind for tactics that borders on machievallianism, and cherishes the trust he is given like it's something precious. his coaches let him lead without leaning on them. his team has the utmost respect and admiration for him. he has a reputation. from karasuno to shiratorizawa to the whole of miyagi -- there is not a single character who knows oikawa tooru and would believe that he is, in any way, bad at volleyball.

but it's not enough. despite all of that, oikawa still doesn't think he's good enough. and that, friends, brings us to the second point.

oikawa tooru is nothing if not passionate.

so were the others, of course. kageyama kept going after his grandfather's death. hinata kept going while being a nobody from nowhere with no one to back him up. atsumu kept going while osamu didn't. it's not even about just those who went pro -- kenma, kuroo, noya, and everyone else found things that they were passionate about and kept going with it. the entire story revolves around loving what you do and trying to keep that love alive, and, sometimes, that can be really, really difficult when it seems like it doesn't love you back.

oikawa was so insecure over kageyama to the point where he nearly decked the poor kid. oikawa got crushed by ushijima-- who kept telling him that his team was not good enough, that his choices were not good enough, that there was nothing good enough to be proud of -- for years in a row. oikawa was taught that there would always be someone better than him no matter how skilled he was, but if he let that stop him then he didn't fucking belong on the court in the first place.

oikawa tooru is intimately acquainted with not being good enough, but he keeps trying to be. he keeps going. he tries to keep the love alive even if he's not loved back. he pushes and practices and takes a plane far from home to become even better. even if he doesn't have the skill, even if he doesn't have the talent, even if he doesn't have the love -- he still has his pride. and what does that mean, in the end? how far does that take him?

in the end, oikawa tooru walks across a world stage and sees people who believed in him on the other side and calls it a family reunion. in the end, he gets to play the volleyball that reminds him of why he loves it and how it gives him so much love back. in the end, his pride is unyielding and unbreakable, a product of the forge. he molded it with his own two hands. he will not let it falter so easily.

arrogance would not have taken oikawa tooru this far. i hope this has proven that he is anything but.

remember: instinct is something you polish. talent is something you make bloom. and never, ever let anyone else tell you what your pride is worth.

[samthecookielord]

Days without thinking so hard about how little we know about who clive actually is: 0

[fiepige]

Venom!Hobie Cat-Symbiote AU!

Okay so I might have made an AU of my AU...

It's based on my Venom!Hobie au but with a slightly (?) lighter tone in the sense that Hobie actually gets along well with his symbiote. Though they initially mostly get along due to shared mutural trauma... (But more about that later)

This version of the symbiote is more animalistic and usually communicates with Hobie through emotions- sorta projecting its own emotions and feelings towards him to let him know how it feels about something, though it might also communicate via single words or short sentences but that's pretty rare.

So, I'll do like I did in my original Venom!Hobie post and focus on the Design first:

Since they get along the symbiote feels safe around Hobie and thus it'll often "extend" itself outside of him and take the shape of a (freaky looking) cat - Kinda like how VENOM is able to partially seperate itself from Eddie while still being tethered to him:

Like this but they actually get along and the symbiote looks kinda like this:

(Once again- I CANNOT draw but the brainrot is stronger so I need to share this)

(I didn't draw the symbiote goo that would extend from it to tether it to Hobie but it's there I swear!)

Since this is Spider-Punk's symbiote I wanted some of the spikes to carry over in this design

I haven't quite decided if it should have the "running-mascara" look (buttom drawing) for its eyes like Spider-Punk's mask has or not so lemme know what you guys think?

The spikes are used as a way for it to communicate to others as a way to make its body language more expressive (though it only shows itself around people it really trusts so it rarely uses them as it still just communicates its emotions directly to Hobie when it needs to)

And like with Venom!Hobie the spikes are reminiscent of symbiote teeth

When it's relaxed/happy the spikes will be pressed down towards its body - making it easy to pet- if somebody would dare approach it that is

Hobie pets it a lot as it usually sits on his shoulder when he walks around (when there's nobody around that is)

The symbiote is still made of the same goo as regular symbiotes so it does not feel like petting a cat at all- Hobie doesn't mind but most other people find it rather unpleasant to touch

The "fuzzy" look is just the symbiote goo trying to imitate cat fur

The reason the symbiote takes this form is partially because it's more animalistic and likes physical affection (from people it trusts, it will bite your hand off if it doesn't like/trust you and you try to pet it) and partially because Hobie is a cat person and it used it as a method to make Hobie like it more when they first "met" + petting it helped Hobie calm down and still does

It's gotten pretty good at mimicking cat noises including purring

It'll usually stay on Hobie's shoulder or sit in his lap like this, it's still tethered to him so it can't go that far without him - not that it really wants to anyways

If it likes someone it'll rub itself against their legs and mimic purring noises

Okay now we move on to the

Origin:

This is my current headcanon for this AU but as always feel free to share your thoughts/ideas/inputs if you have any <3

Hobie and the symbiote "met" at one of Oscorp's labs

Hobie was living as a homeless teen (13-14 years old having escaped an abusive household a few months prior) and was captured by Oscorp to be used for their symbiote experimentations

Hobie was an easy target as he had just been bitten by the radioactive spider a few hours prior and thus he was starting to suffer from the fever the bite gave him

Hobie was to be fused with a new kind of symbiote

The symbiote had been made to make people more susceptible to orders- making them less inclined to think for themselves

But in order to make that possible the symbiote had been put through some rather painful and extreme experiments- making it more "dead" than alive at this point

When it's fused with Hobie, who's still very sick at this point, the spider bite is still working its magic on Hobie's body and thus it also partially heals the symbiote

Both Hobie and the symbiote are terrified of their situation as they're put in holding cells made specifically for symbiotes.- Their only comfort is each other.

The symbiote takes on the cat like appearance to soothe Hobie after being subjects to a particularly bad experiment

Since Hobie's gotten powers from both the spider bite and the symbiote they quickly become the subjects for many inhumane and painful experiments as the scientists futilely try to figure out how to replicate the symbiote (as they're unaware of the spider bite, thinking the symbiote alone is behind Hobie's new powers)

Due to the symbiote Hobie develops a taste for human flesh

And he gets his first taste of it as he manages to escape the lab during one of their many tests- killing as many guards and scientists on their way out as possible. (This is also the first time they fully transform into Venom!Hobie)

He would later return and burn the lab down completely.

As a result of their treatment at the lab + Hobie's past with his abusive family, both him and the symbiote have developed a deep distrust to other people.

Which is also why Hobie isn't trying to get rid of the symbiote, he considers it his only friend for a long time.

Hobie still loves playing music (which is also how he eventually makes new friends) but has had to make some adjustments due to the symbiote, thus he usually uses both earplugs and noise cancelling earmuffs when he's playing and even then he still gets migraines if he plays for too long or too loud

He still craves human flesh and will usually target cops or anyone associated with Oscorp to sate his hunger.

He doesn't feel bad about killing but will still try not to harm civilians (emphasis on try- sometimes the hunger gets the best of him)

He still operates as Spider-Punk but for a long time he's mostly fueled by his hatred for Oscorp and how they treated him and the symbiote

But as he slowly learns to open up to people he starts to shift his focus onto figting to help people and make the city safer (which means he'll still target cops and Oscorp employees but that's not his only focus anymore) (he also makes an effort to actually save civilians at this point)

Though due to the symbiote and their past this version of Spider-Punk is more prone to just straight up killing his villains (+ he still gotta eat right?)

But I'd like to imagine that this version of Hobie also finds his own community who help him out and accept both him and the symbiote

Giving them kind of a "happy" ending despite this version of Hobie being more messed up and unhinged...

Once again this turned out way longer than I intended lol (I just can't shut up about Venom!Hobie, the brainrot is real!)

Thank you so much for reading!!! <3 <3 <3

(And please let me know if you have any thoughts/inputs/questions about anything I wrote! The brainrot is real and I'll never get tired of talking about this guy)

Also click here if you wanna read more about my Venom!Hobie concept <3

[twilightakiishi]

you keep mentioning homicipher, what is it?

PFFFNGKFKF idk why this made me shy um um……hi….. anon…..

it’s an otome where you as a human get dropped into a spirit world and they speak a different language so a very big part of the game is deciphering it and using that language to move you through the game! the initial goal is to get back to the human world buuut there’s lots of different routes you can take. like romancing the monsters/spirits/whatever you wanna call them lol. their idea of romance is very different from a conventional dating sim … bc they’re not human. but it’s very much so my vibe; ig kind of a horror game as well! i think it’s so fun :’)

it’s really funny too bc their language is very rough and basic and if you have no idea what a word means you can fill in the blank with anything you want which can make for funny moments later on… but the game itself has humorous moments even if you get the words right too!!

pics below the cut ^_^

streamed it on my friends tv last night and played as a group but i love to stream it for my friends in discord as well…. the left pic is definitely us fucking around and the right pic is my own ss… i added cute to their dictionary because well. he cute.

[loderlied]

will forever be obsessed with the concept of characters being each other’s archnemesis…. opposite in the sense that they are each other’s antithesis and there is no other path for them than absolute war simply because of who they are, destined to clash not in the mystical sense but destined in the way that a chemical reaction is destined to happen…. and then there is also that element of both sides having to be equally strong because otherwise they would not be each other’s antithesis….

yes this post is about the wild, the instinct of the apex predator (zeke) vs the all-conquering god-machine (gortash)

[keeps-ache]

yay yippee yay :3 🎉