#IF YOU WANNA DO IT DO IT DON'T LET ANYONE STOP YOU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

promptedwordsmith · 3 days ago

Note

I asked this request with someone else so you mayy or mayy not see the same request somewhere else. Depends on if you or the other person does write my request. It’s alright if you don’t wanna, write want you wanna to write. I just need this idea out of my system 🤣

MC is indicted that she is powerful. Good fighter, powerful evol where she can practically borrow someone else evol and the core in her heart. She much weaker for an unknown reason at the moment. But what if she wasn’t for a brief moment? 👀

What if MC physically fights the LaDS men without holding back 👀 like a scenario where a new wanderer shows up, puppets her or something, forcing the LaDS men to defend themselves. I need the angst and drama 😂 where the men are like “I don’t want to hurt you but you’re going kill me at this rate if I don’t do something.”

This keeps floating in my head, someone save me 🤣

OK soo I hope this is what you meant and it wasn't just me completely misunderstanding but the second I read this I just had to get started omg

I usually really don't like the whole "I'm going to save you by playing on our connection" trope but it suits this sort of story I think!

Caleb

The battlefield was silent. Not the kind of silence that came from peace, but the suffocating, eerie kind—the moment before the storm.

Caleb stood at the center of it, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, violet eyes locked on you. Or at least, the body that belonged to you.

But you weren’t there.

The moment the Wanderer had latched onto you, sinking its unseen claws into your mind, he’d known something was wrong. You had stiffened, your Evol flaring wildly for half a second before your entire stance changed. That was the first warning. The second had come when your gaze lifted to meet his—not with recognition, not with warmth, but with something empty.

And then you had attacked him.

His own gravity turned against him—the weight around his body fluctuating so rapidly that he nearly lost his footing. That alone had confirmed his worst fear. The Wanderer wasn’t just suppressing your will—it was using your Resonance against him.

You had stolen his Evol.

And now, he had to fight you.

But he couldn’t.

Not really. Not the way he fought others.

His hands clenched at his sides as he dodged another blast of gravitational force, feeling the way the air twisted and compressed around him. You were strong. Stronger than he had ever let himself acknowledge.

His mind was at war with itself. Every instinct screamed at him to fight back—to win—but the part of him that had spent lifetimes protecting you? That part was already losing.

Because how could he fight you, when all he wanted to do was save you?

You lunged forward, eyes still vacant, but your movements were clean, precise—yours, but also not yours. You weren’t just mimicking his power; you were enhancing it. His own gravity was being amplified, warped, turned into a weapon against him. It took everything he had to avoid the sudden shift in force, barely managing to stabilize himself before he was slammed downward with bone-crushing weight.

The ground cracked beneath him. His knees buckled.

Caleb grit his teeth.

If this had been anyone else—any other enemy—he would’ve ended this fight by now. But it wasn’t. It was you. And for the first time in his life, he was afraid.

Not of you. Never of you.

But of what he might have to do to stop this.

He tried to speak, voice raw. “You have to fight it.”

You didn’t respond.

You only lifted your hand, and the world collapsed inward.

The force struck fast—so much stronger than he expected, so much more precise. His body strained against the gravity pressing down on him, the weight overwhelming. If he had been anyone else, he would’ve been crushed.

And that’s when the realization hit him—this is what you feel.

Every time you resonate with him, every time you borrow his strength, every time you fight beside him, this is what your body endures. The sheer force of his Evol, amplified within you.

He had never really thought about it before. Never truly grasped just how much you took on when you fought at his side.

And now? Now that power was against him.

His arms trembled as he forced himself up. “I know you’re still in there.” His voice was hoarse, desperate. “I know you can hear me.”

Nothing.

His mind raced. He needed to think. He needed to find a way to reach you—not hurt you, never hurt you—but how?

His vision blurred at the edges. The gravitational pull you were using was unlike anything he had ever faced. Not even he had pushed his power to this extent before. His body screamed for relief, his Evol struggling against itself.

But then he saw it.

The slight hesitation. The way your fingers twitched—just barely, but enough.

It wasn’t the Wanderer controlling his Evol. It was you.

Somewhere inside, you were still fighting.

That was all he needed.

Caleb sucked in a sharp breath, shoving aside hesitation, pain—everything. His hands shot forward, fingers splaying wide, and for the first time in this fight—he didn’t resist your gravity.

He let it pull him in.

The instant he got close enough, he grabbed your wrist, forcing your Evol to connect with his. Forcing Resonance.

And that was all it took.

Because the moment your Evol touched his, he poured everything he had into it. Not just power. Not just control. But himself.

His memories. His thoughts. The lifetimes spent together.

The way you had always brought him back from the edge.

The way he had sworn to protect you—not just in this life, but in every life.

And then, for the first time, you hesitated.

A sharp breath escaped you, your entire body jolting as if something had just slammed into your mind. Your grip on your own power wavered—just enough for Caleb to take control.

Gravity twisted.

Not violently. Not in a way that would hurt you.

But in the way he always held you.

Steady. Unshakable. Safe.

Your body swayed, your breath stuttering, and then—then—your eyes flickered.

Your real eyes.

Not the Wanderer’s empty gaze.

Yours.

Recognition flashed across your face, confusion, panic—and then the force holding him down snapped.

Caleb barely had time to react before your legs gave out, and he caught you without hesitation, his arms wrapping around you, his Evol still steadying your weight.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Your breath was warm against his shoulder, your body trembling in his arms. He could feel your heartbeat—erratic, unsteady, but yours.

And that was all that mattered.

The fight was over.

He pressed his forehead to the side of yours, his grip tightening, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”

A shaky exhale. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his uniform. “I…” Your voice was hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

Caleb exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “No. Don’t.” He pulled back just enough to look at you, his violet eyes burning. ��You came back. That’s all that matters.”

And in that moment, he realized something—something that had been clear all along, but he had never let himself truly accept.

You weren’t just his partner.

You were his equal.

And no matter what, no matter how hard it got, he would always pull you back to him.

Rafayel

The battlefield was ablaze.

Not with fire, but with chaos.

The air was thick with smoke and embers, Rafayel’s flames flickering and dancing wildly across the ruined ground. Yet, despite the searing heat, his hands trembled. His chest ached—not from exhaustion, not from injury, but from the sheer horror of what was happening.

Because it was you standing against him.

And it wasn’t you at all.

Your eyes, usually filled with warmth, were void of emotion. Your stance, once fluid and graceful, was rigid—unnatural. The Wanderer who had taken over your body had turned your Resonance against him, amplifying his flames, twisting them, making them stronger in ways he never intended.

And now, that power was aimed at him.

A burst of fire roared toward him, faster than he could react. The heat seared his skin as he barely managed to throw himself to the side, landing hard against the dirt. His breath came out ragged as he quickly pushed himself up, his eyes locking onto you once more.

"Damn it..." he whispered, swallowing hard.

He couldn’t fight you.

But you—no, the thing inside you—had no such hesitation.

You lunged. Faster than he expected, stronger than he remembered. And maybe that was the worst part. He had always known you were powerful, but now? With your Evol fully unleashed against him, amplified in ways he never thought possible, he realized just how devastatingly strong you truly were.

And he had never feared your strength before.

Not until now.

You moved like fire itself—wild, relentless. Each attack forced him to retreat, to defend, to dodge, rather than strike back. He couldn’t. Even as his instincts screamed at him to fight, to survive, his heart refused to let him lift his hands against you.

"Come on, Rafayel," a voice that wasn’t yours taunted from your lips, hollow and mocking. "Is this really all you’ve got?"

Another wave of flames erupted toward him, this time crackling with an intensity that made his stomach twist. He barely managed to counter, his own fire surging up to meet yours, but the moment the two collided, yours consumed his completely.

His eyes widened.

His own fire.

It didn’t even stand a chance.

"Shit—"

The explosion sent him flying backward, slamming into the side of a crumbling building. He gasped, pain shooting through his ribs. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the helplessness clawing at his chest.

He had to think. Had to find a way to get through to you.

But how?

If he tried to burn the Wanderer out, he’d be burning you.

If he held back, he’d die before he got the chance to save you.

He gritted his teeth.

No. There had to be a way.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes locked onto you again—his love, his muse—possessed and wielded like a weapon against him.

His hands clenched into fists.

"I know you’re still in there." His voice was hoarse, desperate. "I know you can hear me."

But you didn’t answer.

The Wanderer tilted your head, smirking through your lips. "That’s sweet," they mocked. "But pointless."

And then you attacked again.

Faster. Stronger.

You disappeared in a flash of heat—only to reappear behind him. He barely turned in time to block the hit, his forearm crashing against yours. The sheer force of it made his bones rattle. Then came another, and another—strike after strike, relentless.

And Rafayel could do nothing but defend.

Not because he wasn’t strong enough.

But because he couldn’t—wouldn’t—hurt you.

Think, damn it!

The answer came in a flicker of memory.

Your Resonance.

You borrowed the power of others, but it was a two-way connection. If he could reach that part of you—if you were still in there, buried deep beneath the Wanderer’s control—then maybe, just maybe, he could pull you back.

But he had to get close.

Close enough to touch you.

Close enough to take a direct hit.

It was a gamble. A stupid, reckless gamble. But he was running out of time, and there was no way in hell he was going to lose you.

So, he let go of his defense.

Dropped his guard completely.

And when you lunged at him again, aiming straight for his heart—he didn’t move.

The moment your hand made contact with his chest, he reached out. Not with his fire. Not with his fists.

But with his Resonance.

A connection.

A tether.

Through the blinding heat, through the searing pain of your touch, he focused on you—the real you, trapped beneath layers of someone else’s will.

"Come back to me," he breathed. "Please."

For a moment—just a flicker—something changed.

Your body froze.

The grip on his chest loosened, fingers trembling against his shirt. The flames flickering in your eyes wavered—just for a second.

And in that second, he poured everything into the link between you.

Your Evol, your power, the resonance that had always bound you together. He reached for it. Pushed his own power into it. Made it something bigger, brighter, than the darkness that held you captive.

"You’re mine," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours despite the heat. "Not theirs."

The Wanderer shrieked.

The connection between you burned.

And then—

A scream tore through the air. Your body convulsed, and suddenly, the fire turned inward.

Not his. Yours.

Flames erupted around you, swallowing your form in a wild blaze—brighter, hotter than anything he’d ever seen. And then—

Silence.

When the flames finally died, you collapsed against him, body trembling, breath coming in ragged gasps.

But your eyes—

Your eyes were yours again.

"Rafayel..." Your voice was weak, hoarse, but it was enough.

His breath hitched, arms tightening around you as he pulled you close, pressing desperate kisses to your hair, your forehead, anywhere he could reach.

"You scared the hell out of me," he whispered, voice shaking. "Don’t you ever do that again."

A weak laugh left your lips as you buried your face against his chest. "Not exactly something I planned, you know."

He let out a breathless chuckle, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

You were back.

And he would never let you go again.

Sylus

The night was warm, but Sylus felt nothing but cold.

He stood across from you, his crimson eyes narrowed, his breath steady—but his heart pounding.

You weren’t you.

Not really.

A Wanderer had taken your body, stolen your will, and twisted it into something unrecognizable. The way you moved—precise, calculating, almost inhuman—was proof enough. Your usual grace had been sharpened into something unnatural, something colder than he could stand to see.

He had fought countless enemies before. He had cut down traitors, eliminated threats, and broken those who dared to stand against him. But this?

This was the first time his hands trembled before a fight had even begun.

You raised your hand, palm out, and Sylus braced himself. A flicker of energy crackled around your fingers—his energy, twisted by your Resonance Evol.

The Wanderer inside you smirked.

“Your hesitation is touching, Sylus,” they said, your voice not quite right. “But it will be your downfall.”

Then, with a flick of your wrist, the world ignited.

A blast of pure, searing energy surged toward him—his own power, amplified and turned against him. He barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as the ground where he once stood erupted in a violent shockwave.

Damn it.

He knew your Evol made you powerful, but now—now—he was realizing just how dangerous it was. With your Resonance, you weren’t just using his ability. You were enhancing it. Making it faster. Stronger.

Making it better than he ever could.

Sylus exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he steadied himself.

“Darling,” he said, his voice calm despite the ache in his chest, “if you wanted a fight, you could’ve just asked.”

The Wanderer inside you laughed. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. You were always going to lose.”

You lunged.

Sylus barely dodged in time, his coat billowing as he twisted away. Another blast of energy, another near-miss. He felt the heat graze his cheek, singeing his skin. Tch. That was his power. Amplified. Used against him.

And worse?

He still couldn’t bring himself to attack you.

Because even though your body was moving against him, even though you were fighting with deadly precision—it was still you.

And the thought of hurting you was the first thing in his life that truly terrified him.

But this was no longer just about him.

He had to get you back.

Sylus moved with purpose, dodging, analyzing. He needed a plan—a way to break the Wanderer’s hold without breaking you.

But the problem was you were making it impossible.

You weren’t just strong—you were devastating. Every attack came faster, sharper. His own Evol, when amplified by yours, was far more than he could handle. It was overwhelming, relentless.

A pillar of energy surged forward. He braced, crossing his arms as the impact slammed into him, forcing him back. He barely stayed on his feet, his boots skidding against the cracked ground.

You’re too strong like this.

And that realization—it shook him to his core.

He had always known you made him stronger. Had always known that together, you were an unstoppable force.

But now? Now that you were standing against him instead of beside him?

He wasn’t sure if he could win.

And worse—he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

“Come on, Sylus,” the Wanderer taunted through your lips. “You always plan for every possible outcome, don’t you? You must’ve thought about this scenario.”

He clenched his jaw. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

A smirk. “Oh? You really mean to say you never once imagined what would happen if your pretty little Resonance Evol turned against you?”

Sylus said nothing.

Because the truth was—no.

He had never imagined this.

Because in every scenario he had ever planned, in every possibility he had ever considered—

You were always with him.

The next strike was the closest yet.

A blast of energy—too fast, too precise. He barely managed to counter, the force sending him stumbling back. He could feel the bruises forming beneath his clothes, the sting of burned skin where your attack had hit.

And still, he hesitated.

“Why won’t you fight me, Sylus?” the Wanderer hummed, tilting your head. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

His eyes locked onto yours.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said simply.

The Wanderer clicked their tongue. “Oh, but I’ll hurt you.”

You raised your hand again.

And Sylus knew—this time, he wouldn’t be able to dodge.

But at the last second—you hesitated.

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but Sylus saw it. A flicker of recognition. A second where your body tensed—but your fingers curled inward, as if trying to resist.

You were still in there.

Sylus inhaled sharply. That’s it. Hold on, darling. Hold on just a little longer.

If you were still there, he could reach you.

He just had to risk it all.

So, instead of dodging—

He stepped forward.

The Wanderer sneered. “Giving up already?”

Sylus didn’t answer.

He just closed the distance—and grabbed your wrist.

The moment his fingers closed around your skin, he poured his energy into you.

Not to fight.

Not to hurt.

But to resonate.

If your Evol worked through Resonance, through matching the energy of those around you—then all he had to do was flood you with something stronger than the Wanderer’s control.

And there was nothing in this world stronger than his need to bring you back.

Your body stiffened. The energy in your hand faltered, flickering unsteadily between raw power and something uncertain. Your breathing hitched.

Sylus tightened his grip.

“Come back to me,” he murmured, his voice commanding. “I know you’re still in there.”

For a second—nothing.

Then—

A sharp gasp.

Your eyes, wide and yours again for just a moment, locked onto his. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. A violent shudder wracked through your body.

Sylus didn’t let go.

“You are mine,” he said, his voice a whisper, but carrying the full weight of his soul. “No one else gets to have you. Not them. Not anyone.”

A strangled cry tore from your throat. The Wanderer fought—but Sylus was stronger.

Because he knew you.

He knew your energy, your heart, your soul.

And no matter what—nothing could ever make him let you go.

The moment the Wanderer’s hold snapped, you collapsed against him.

Sylus caught you immediately, cradling you against his chest, his arms locking around you like a vice.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, weakly, you whispered, “You’re bleeding.”

Sylus let out a breathless laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “You should see yourself, darling. You made quite the mess.”

You gave a weak chuckle. “Guess that means I won?”

His grip tightened. “Never.”

Then, softer—

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

You nodded against his chest, and Sylus knew—

No matter what happened next, you would never fight alone again.

Xavier

The world around you spun. The cold, sterile air of the facility clung to your skin, and your heartbeat pounded against your chest as though it wanted to break free. You could feel the weight of your body, but it felt distant, as if you were no longer fully in control of it.

Your breath quickened as the world distorted, everything around you slipping out of focus. The pain in your temples only made the sensation worse, a sharp jolt of nausea sinking into your gut. It was as though your entire being was split in two, and one of those halves was being pulled in a direction you didn’t want to go.

You fought it, clenching your fists in an attempt to regain control, but it was no use. The foreign force inside you took hold with an iron grip, seizing every inch of you, weaving itself into your core until it became you. The invasive presence swirled within, a dark, malicious energy.

There was a flash of movement—Xavier. His silver hair caught the light, and his blue eyes found you with a look of deep concern. His steps faltered as he came closer, his gaze narrowing, confused. But the moment you met his eyes, the clarity of what was happening hit him all at once.

“No,” he whispered. The word trembled from his lips. “No, no, no…”

It was you. It was your body, but not your mind. Not your will. You weren’t in control anymore.

You were a prisoner inside your own skin.

“Xavier!” you tried to shout, but the voice that came out of your mouth wasn’t yours. It was cold, detached, and devoid of all warmth. A hollow echo of what you had once been.

Xavier’s eyes widened as his instincts kicked in. He knew you. He knew you, and this was wrong. This wasn’t the person he’d fought beside, laughed with, shared so many quiet moments. This wasn’t the person who’d trusted him with their heart, body, and soul.

But you weren’t completely gone. He could see it in the way your lips trembled, the subtle flicker of emotion beneath the cold mask the Wanderer had woven over you. But it wasn’t enough.

You were still trapped, still in that dark corner of your mind, but the Wanderer’s will was too powerful.

The presence inside you stirred, pushing against your resistance. Xavier took a careful step forward, his hand raised in a calming gesture, as though trying to reach the real you beneath the enemy’s control.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Just fight, okay? Fight it, please. I’ll find a way to get you back, I swear.”

But you didn’t respond—not with your words, not with any recognition of him. The enemy within you was far more cunning, pushing you forward, taking control of your every movement. You could feel it sinking deeper into you, exploiting the part of your mind that resonated with Xavier’s light. The resonance you shared, once a source of strength, now became a weapon against him, turning his own power into something he had to fight against.

It was then you saw it: the horrible realization in his eyes as he looked at you. He couldn’t bring himself to harm you, not even to defend himself, not when he knew what you’d become.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hands, but you saw the struggle in his gaze. The anguish was raw, suffocating. He was trying to figure it out. He was trying to find a way to save you both.

The resonance between you and Xavier, the bond that had always strengthened you both in every situation, now felt like an anchor pulling you deeper into a sea of chaos. You could feel his power around you—surging, lighting up the space—but now it was a threat. A threat that made you feel like you were suffocating.

“No,” you whispered, fighting with every ounce of your being to reach him. “Don’t… hurt… me…”

But the Wanderer inside you wasn’t willing to let go. It twisted your body, forcing your hand up, and you could see Xavier’s eyes flicker with the realization that you were about to hurt him.

With a sudden surge of power, the resonance inside you flared to life—Xavier’s own Evol, manipulated by the enemy, twisted around you, harnessed into a blinding ball of light. The space around you erupted, and Xavier was forced back, his own power ripping through the air to fight against yours.

“Xavier—!” you screamed again, but the voice that came out of your mouth was filled with malice, not your own.

You didn’t know if he could hear the real you anymore. You couldn’t even feel the pulse of his Evol flowing into you as it used to. He was too far away now. He was so far away.

But Xavier didn’t back down. Even as the ball of light surged toward him, he didn’t flinch. His Evol blazed brighter, trying to counteract the resonance that had been corrupted. He didn’t understand it entirely, didn’t realize the full depth of what was happening—but he could feel you. He could feel that you were still somewhere in there, buried beneath the surface.

The battle raged on, your body moving against your will, fighting against Xavier. Every strike he blocked only caused him more pain. His own power—the very light that had once been his most treasured ally—felt oppressive, draining. He was fighting with everything he had, trying to reach you, but you were so far gone.

Xavier’s voice cracked with pain. “Please… come back to me.”

In that moment, everything froze. Time seemed to stretch as you felt the pulse of his light reach out, gentle yet forceful, like a lifeline in the storm. He wasn’t giving up. He refused to give up on you.

Somewhere deep inside, something inside you stirred.

The Wanderer’s control over you flickered, just for an instant. And in that moment, you were able to reach him.

You couldn’t speak, but you tried—your hand, shaking and weak, reached out toward Xavier. You were trying to call him back, trying to fight the darkness that had consumed you. But the Wanderer still lingered, still pressing down on you.

Xavier saw it—he saw the fight in you. He saw that you were still there.

And that was enough.

“Hang on,” he whispered, his voice full of promise and pain. “I’ll get you back. I swear I will.”

His Evol flared one last time, combining with the resonance that had always existed between you. This time, your light—the one that connected you both—fought back the darkness with a power neither of you had ever felt before.

The battle raged between the two of you, but this time, Xavier’s light pushed through the darkness, finally forcing it back. Your own resonance fought through the haze, giving you control once again.

And as you regained yourself, breathless and broken, you saw Xavier before you—his blue eyes filled with relief, but also the weight of everything he had just fought against.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he pulled you close, holding you tightly as if afraid that if he let go, you’d slip away again.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. But even through the pain, there was nothing but tenderness in his touch.

Zayne

Zayne could feel the cold creeping up his spine long before he saw you.

The battlefield was a chaotic mess of fractured ice and broken stone, an eerie quiet hanging in the air. You had been acting strange earlier—off, distant—but he never could have predicted this. Never could have anticipated what was coming.

Your eyes were distant now, completely blank as you stood across from him, an uncharacteristic stillness in your posture. A thick chill hung in the air, and the normally comfortable bite of his ice Evol now seemed like something far more dangerous—like something hostile.

“Y/N…” His voice was tentative, unsure. His heart pounded in his chest. He knew you. Knew you better than anyone else. So, why were you standing there, so calm, so detached?

You didn’t respond.

A dark energy, one Zayne couldn’t quite explain, pulsed beneath the surface, swirling through the air like a storm, wrapping around you. It wasn’t your power—he could sense that. But what came next? That, he hadn’t expected.

You raised your hand. Your own power—Resonance—flared to life, but it wasn’t the soft, gentle way it usually did. It wasn’t amplifying his power, it wasn’t supporting him like it always did. No. This time, your Resonance vibrated in sync with Zayne’s own ice, amplifying it and twisting it to your will.

And with a sudden burst of energy, Zayne watched in horror as his own ice began to materialize around you—not as defense, but as a weapon.

It was his Evol, the one he had honed and perfected for years, the one he trusted more than anything. And now, it was being used against him. His own creation.

“Y/N!” He yelled, his voice strained with both disbelief and desperation. But you were too far gone, the energy in your eyes too overwhelming.

Without warning, you thrust your hand forward, and the ice surged at him with the force of a tidal wave. Zayne barely had time to react, his body moving on instinct as he threw up his own defenses, sending a surge of ice to block the incoming attack. But it wasn’t enough.

You were using his own power against him. Every movement, every strike was amplified by your Resonance, making the ice you conjured stronger, faster, sharper. He barely managed to dodge one attack as the ice flew past him, slicing through the air and leaving deep gashes in the ground. His heart raced.

“I won’t hurt you…” Zayne muttered to himself, his hands shaking as he summoned more ice to defend himself. He could barely keep up with you now. It wasn’t just the power, it was the control. His Evol had always been something that was intrinsically tied to his soul, his emotions, but now, in your hands, it was alien, a force completely out of his control.

And worse—he didn’t know how to fight you without hurting you. The thought alone tore him apart.

You stepped forward, the ice swirling around you like a storm. It rose from the ground, wrapping around your body like armor, and you moved toward him with terrifying speed, your eyes fixed on him with a distant, eerie look.

Zayne didn’t want to fight you. But you weren’t giving him a choice.

With a cry of frustration, Zayne shot a beam of ice at you, but you deflected it effortlessly, sending shards of his own ice right back at him. One piece grazed his arm, leaving a trail of blood beneath the frozen surface. He winced but didn’t let up, his gaze locked on yours as he took another step back.

"Please," he whispered, voice ragged with emotion. "You have to fight this."

But you didn’t respond, didn’t show any sign of recognition. You just continued to move toward him, the ice in your hands growing more elaborate with each passing moment. A large block of ice shot at him with blinding speed, and Zayne barely managed to dodge it, but he was starting to feel the weight of the battle. His own powers were being turned against him, and he couldn’t keep up.

His breath came in shallow bursts, and his mind raced. There had to be something he could do, something to stop you from using his own Evol against him. He needed you to break free from this—needed you back.

His eyes searched the ground for something—anything—that could help, but all he could see was the snow and ice he had created. Your resonance, your amplification of his ice, was making everything around them feel like a frozen prison.

Then it hit him.

You were using his ice, yes, but you were still you. There was still a trace of your presence beneath the surface, beneath the coldness and the power you now wielded. The way your movements weren’t just about destruction, but about something else—something familiar.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning: He could still reach you.

Zayne closed his eyes for just a moment and focused, pulling at the ice around him, not in anger or fear, but with something deeper—something he had never relied on before. He wasn’t just using his Evol for defense. He wasn’t trying to trap or fight you.

He was trying to connect.

A wave of ice rippled through the battlefield, but it wasn’t just a defense. It was a gesture, a soft and delicate thing, like the ice seals he had carved for you when you were children. He called upon the memory of that moment, the warmth in the act, the love behind it.

Slowly, carefully, he shaped the ice into something, a symbol. A seal. A small ice sculpture, just like the ones he had made for you all those years ago. It was perfect. Beautiful. Simple.

The ice seemed to slow around him, the energy flickering. He could feel it—the resonance between the two of you, so faint now, but it was still there.

He placed the ice seal on the ground, hoping that this small act would remind you of who you were.

"Please," Zayne whispered. "Remember me."

The ice around you hesitated. The coldness seemed to crack, breaking apart like a frozen surface thawing in the warmth of the sun. You froze in place, your hand trembling as you reached for the ice seal he had created for you.

For a long moment, nothing happened. But then—slowly, so slowly—the coldness in your eyes began to melt, replaced by a softness he had longed to see again. You dropped to your knees, gasping as the power began to drain from you, leaving you breathless but you.

Zayne’s heart swelled as he rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m here,” he whispered against your hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Zayne allowed himself to breathe. The battle was over. And you were back.

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hexgirl13 · 1 day ago

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nobody gets me

wc: 1,329

summary: one night, two loner teens find comfort in one another

warnings(?): fluff, smidge of angst, cursing, shitty dads, smoking, use of y/n

a/n: another edition to the rafe x maybank!reader series. lwk the ending is kinda bad 😭 but i tried. lemme know if y'all wanna see more!!

the cool waters lapped against the shore, washing up little treasures from the ocean. taking a long hit from your vape, you leaned your head back to let the smoke fall from your lips. you slightly grimaced at the watermelon flavoured smoke. it had been a while since you did nic, but jj finished up your last joint. you found comfort in the cold and silence that was wrapped around you. it had been a long night for you.

you came home from your workshift to find jj gone. probably out with john b and all of. however, shortly after, your dad barged into the house. definitely drunk and definitely angry. that was, sadly, something that wasn't new. you took another hit and closed your eyes, trying to drown out the hateful words that he spewed at you.

"maybank?" you heard a voice call out to you.

you opened an eye to find none other than rafe cameron staring down at you. it was a surprise to see anyone, but especially someone like him, this late at the beach.

"what're you doing here?" he asked, moving to stand in front of you. his hair was messy, like he'd run his fingers through it a bunch, and his clothes were disheveled. and was he... crying? you couldn't tell in the dark.

"i could ask you the same thing." you eyed him up and down. his movements were jittery, while his eyes darted across the beach. he didn't stop fiddling with the hem of his shirt either. either he was about to have a panic attack or he was high. maybe both. "you wanna sit down?" you offered, your voice a gentle tone. his blue eyes made eye contact with you, before shakily nodding "y-yeah."

he dropped down next to you on the sand. knee bumping yours as he did so. you glanced at him through the corner of your eye. his gaze stays focused on his hands. numbly picking at his fingers. "stop doing that, you'll bleed." you pushed his hands down. almost immediately you realized what you'd done. "sorry," you mumbled, letting go of him.

he wearily watched you, but stayed quiet. when he wasn't with his asshole friends, he wasn't that bad. he was practically hated by your friends. especially by your brother. you never thought of him that way. with you, he was nice and... shy. "i'm sorry that i interrupted your quiet time or whatever," he muttered, now intently watching you.

"it's okay. it's a public beach, rafe. not just mine," you replied lightly. a minor way to lighten the mood. he let out a quiet chuckle. "maybe not, yeah. but i find you here often. speaking of, why are you here? thought i saw your pogue brother and his friends having a party."

"oh, uh, i'm not a big party person. prefer to be alone and stuff like that." you take another quick hit. his eyes drop down to where the smoke falls from your lips and he suddenly feels his mouth dry up. he swallows. “do you mind if i…?” he asks hesitantly.

you feel yourself stiffen up when you notice him looking at your lips. however, you soon realize he was talking about your vape. “huh? oh, yeah, here ya go.”

he gratefully takes it from you and hits it. a slight grimace spreads on his face when he tastes it. “watermelon, really?” he asked.

you let out a soft laugh. “yeah, sorry. jj finished my last joint. can't even find my dispo, either.”

“you know, i, uh, i sell. all kinds of shit. like, weed, geekbar, whatever you want. if you're interested, obviously. you don't have to feel-” he started to ramble.

you place a gentle hand on his bicep to stop him. “rafe. i get it. i’ll keep that in mind.” you could feel his body stiffen under your touch and gently smiled. no way rafe cameron was getting nervous around you. your hand trails down to hold his wrist, swiping at his pulse point.

his heart was racing.

“you wanna talk about why you’re here so late?” you asked softly.

his breath hitched at your feather like touch. “uh, m-my dad. him and i got into a fight. some stupid shit about the family. i mean, he acts like i don’t care!” he begins to ramble, hands shaking and eyes welling with tears, “b-but i do… i do care, i just don't understand why he can't see that. he makes me feel like shit, y/n… and i-” his voice breaks as some tears fall.

“oh, rafe,” you cooed, guiding his head to your chest. you ran your fingers through his blonde hair, brushing his bangs out of his face. his shaky hands gripped the front of your sweater, tears soaking it. it was so odd to see a typically strong and cocky boy break so much. you always hated ward cameron. he was a terrible man, both as a person and a father. it was defnitely clear to see now.

there was always an unspoken connection between the two of you. despite growing up on opposite sides of outer banks, you both felt like you shared more qualities than most. both of you always were the odd siblings out, like the black sheep of your families. so you understood what it felt like to be practically hated by your father, yet still craving to be loved and accepted by him.

“i get it, rafe. it sucks to feel like that because of your dad,” you whispered into his hair. “but you're not a careless person. i can see that you care, you just… show it differently. you're a good man, rafe. don't let him make you feel like you're shit or anything less than.”

he sniffled, lifting his head from your chest. “you think so?” he asked shakily.

“course i do. despite what others say, i can tell who you are. who you really are.”

i can tell who you are.

rafe had never heard those words before, and if he had, he'd probably never have believed it. yet coming from you… he did.

“thanks, y/n. i know i don't say it much, hell, i rarely say it, but you're a good person to me. no matter what,” he said, smiling gratefully at you.

you smiled, noticing something. “you called me y/n…”

“what?”

“you called me by my name. like, my actual name. you never do that.”

he hadn't even noticed that. “huh, i guess i am. can't exactly call you by your last name, right? that's reserved for your brother, who i’m… not particularly fond of. i kinda like you though,” he said with a slight wink.

there he was. the rafe that you knew and grew up with. “alright, rafe,” you replied, playfully shoving him. “i literally hate you.” yet there was a smile on your face.

“nah, you love me,” he countered.

you were thankful for the moonlight, or else he’d see the blush blooming on your face. “whatever.” a few moments of silence pass by, but it's not awkward at all. suddenly, you ask, “you wanna go to the gas station with me? i’d rather not walk there alone.”

his head turned towards you, blue eyes shining. “hell yeah. you got a car?”

you shake your head. “dude, i’m a pogue. i barely got any new clothes.”

he laughs softly and it makes you feel giddy. “that's okay, i don't have mine with me. we can just walk.” he stands up, dusting off the sand from his shorts. holding out a hand towards you, you accept it. once he pulls you up, he doesn't let go. neither do you. “c’mon, let’s go.”

the two of you walk towards the boardwalk, a blanket of silence covering the two of you. it isn't awkward though. understanding, and perhaps something else, passes between you two. and maybe, that's all either of you needed. somebody who understood.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x maybank!reader #drew starkey x reader #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron #drew starkey #outer banks

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hukelughes · 2 days ago

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your writing of frat luke made me think about frat quinn (which we don't see a lot i feel like)

can you maybe write something about a situationship with him

You nod along to what he’s saying, an easy smile on your face. You like him, he’s easy to talk to, knows exactly what to say at the right time, and wants to know you. He’s exactly the person who you should want.

“So, I just eat shit down this hill as like ten scouts are looking straight at me, I’ve never been so embarrassed.” He laughs, putting his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as he recalls the moment.

Your smile slowly fades as you give him a fake laugh, something you’ve perfected these last few dates.

“This guy puts his stick in front of my legs, and I fall down, y’know, like eat complete shit down to the ice as everyone’s watching me. My coaches, the scouts, my parents, my brothers. I swear if anyone ever finds that clip, I’m retiring and moving to the Galapagos to become a fucking biologist.”

You burst out laughing, head falling back as he watches you with a soft look in his eye. “Oh my God, do you even have a biology degree?”

“Nope, I quit college in my second year and was a Sports Management major. I would be fired on my first day, I think.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. The other one was gently holding your waist, with your bodies facing each other and your faces closer than ever.

“Aw, well it’s a good thing you’re making it big now, huh?” You mumble, looking down at his lips. You’re not being subtle, giving him hints about what you want for about an hour now. “Quinn, can we go back to your place?”

“Yeah? You wanna go back to mine?”

Nodding, you lean forward enough that your breathing lands directly on his lips. “Yeah.”

He breaks the distance, hands now going to cradle each side of your face. Your lips meet for the first time, immediately tasting the beer he’d been drinking. Putting your fingers in his belt loops, you pull him even closer, if that was even possible. Your tongues brush against each other as you both fight to lead. It’s messy, passionate, euphoric, and you don’t know if any other man could kiss you like Quinn Hughes.

“Are you listening? Hello?” He snaps his fingers in front of your face, breaking you out of the memory.

“Yeah, sorry, your story just reminded me of something someone told me.” You grimaced, looking down to fiddle with your rings.

“How about we cut this date short and just go right to the good stuff, huh?”

His words send a cold chill through you, instantly waking you up from whatever trance you were in. “Sorry?”

“What, you don’t want to fuck me, baby?”

“Not really, no. I’m just going to go now, if that’s okay?” Without waiting for his answer, you grab your jacket and your bag. You can hear him calling after you as you walk towards the exit. Once you’re out in the cold Vancouver weather, you finally breathe out a sigh of relief.

Fumbling with your bag, you take your phone out and open up your contact list. You stop at ‘H’, thumb moving around in circles before you just click on it.

It rings three times before you finally hear his voice.

“Hello?” Quinn asks, his voice voicing his confusion as to why you were calling him during your date. “Y/N?”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to gather your thoughts, before you close your eyes and let it out. “Can you pick me up?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re still sharing your location with me right?”

“Yeah, you should see me right away,” you hear him shuffling around, presumably getting up and grabbing his keys. “He really sucked.”

“Did he?” Quinn hums, something about his tone tells you that he knew it all along. “Baby, I told you that you’re better off with me.”

“I know, I know.” You absentmindedly kick a rock into the road. “I just thought our… arrangement wasn’t working anymore. Didn’t wanna get too emotionally involved with you.”

He chuckles under his breath, “yeah, well, it’s already too late for that. Here you are calling me to rescue you from your date.”

“Shut up. I was wrong.” You concede, rolling your eyes in the process. “What’s your ETA?”

“Hm, 5 minutes I think. Should be there soon, traffic isn't bad.” He estimates it's quiet for a second before he speaks again. “Mine or yours?”

“Yours, definitely yours.”

You aren’t talking about who’s place you’re staying at tonight.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes #qh43 #emma’s fics

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hufflepuffsthunderdome · 2 days ago

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What Did You Do? (Part Four)

Teen!Schlatt x gn!reader <-P. Three P. One ???-> Summary: Teen!Schlatt finally faces you after his fight with your date. Feelings come out in the worst way possible. Warnings: Angst, panic attacks, crying, yelling, fighting, kinda thoughts of not wanting to be alive, kinda slut shaming.

He's barely left his room in days. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He hasn't eaten, hasn't talked to anyone, hasn't been taking care of himself. The idea of doing anything made him feel exhausted. He just wanted to hide, to waste away lying in his bed, until the world forgot about him, left to rot in his own idiocy.

He was ignoring all his problems for now. Alex and his other friends had called and messaged him a number of times. His parents had been trying to balance disciplining him with a genuine concern for his wellbeing. The school had booked disciplinary meetings, he was pretending their dates weren't red, looming angrily in his calendar, he couldn't even bare the thought of being kicked off baseball.

The only person he cared about at the moment was you. The one person who hadn't reached out.

He knows you know what happened, he's sure Pete told you what he did. The whole school knows according to Alex, everyone talking about the fight, half-true tales mixed with outlandish rumours. He's not sure what's gotten back to you yet.

He wants to see you so badly it hurts, more than anything in the world right now, but he can't bring himself to reach out. He wants to text you, call you, get on his knees and beg and grovel for your forgiveness, but the thought alone makes him feel pathetic. He's been fighting tears every time he thinks about the disappointed look on your face when he didn't share your excitement about your date to the formal, he's sure it's even worse now.

That's all he seemed to do anymore. Let you down.

"All this," his mum's voice echoed in his head when she picked him up, "over a girl."

He feels pathetic when he thinks about her words, about how right she is. He didn't wanna be that guy, the kinda guy to get jealous, to be violent, to be angry. The kinda guy to fight over a girl. The kinda guy to fall for his best friend.

He feels the tears break past his waterline as he lies in bed, staring up at his ceiling as he sobs, chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. He sits up and slumps over, head rested in his hands as he tries to calm himself down.

Fuck why haven't you texted him? Has this done it? The nail in the coffin? He feels like he's gonna be sick as he thinks about it, surely this can't be the last time you'll talk to him. The thought of the last time he sees you being that disappointed look on your face as you watch him run away from you makes his chest heave as his lungs struggle to bring in oxygen.

He sinks to the floor, leaning back against the bed as he attempts to force himself to take in air. He wishes you were here, your sweet concerned eyes looking at him as you take his hand. He clenches his own hand into a tight fist, almost able to feel your hand in his as he tries to concentrate on anything other than his body trembling as he sobs. He wants you to tell him it's ok, that you don't hate him, as much as he doesn't deserve it. He can picture your soft voice as you pull him into a hug, holding him tight as he sobs into your shoulder, telling him he's still your best friend, that you still love him.

"Schlatt," a firm voice calls out which makes him heave a violent sob. He's really lost it, he's hearing you now.

"Jay," it says firmer, a tapping sound making him jump as he wipes away the tears that keep coming from his eyes, squinting as he looks over at his window. He can't move, still struggling to breathe as he sees you sitting on his windowsill, tapping at the glass, the familiar sight filling him with nothing but dread as he closes his eyes tightly in an attempt to stop his crying.

You clamber through the window when you manage to pry it open, rushing over to drop to your knees in front of the sobbing boy as you stare at him in shock. You've never seen him like this before. You've barely seen him cry, let alone sob like this.

The sight fills you with a sense of pain deep in your stomach as you watch him, frozen at the sight of your best friend breaking down. You want to be furious at him, you are furious, you don't let yourself forget that. But as you watch the tall boy in front of you break down, it's hard to see him as the friend who broke your trust, and not just a vulnerable boy who needs you.

You pull him in tightly to you, and hold him as he sobs, rocking him silently as he buries his head in your shoulder. He clings to you, large hands grabbing handfuls of your jumper as he pulls you towards him, afraid that if he lets go you'll vanish and he'll be alone again, drowning.

You breathe deeply with him, talking him down from his panic attack as you attempt to soothe him, "take a deep breath with me Jay," you coo softly, your own eyes filling with tears at the sight of your friend, "you're ok."

It takes a while but he eventually does calm down, his breathing returning to normal, and the tears subsiding as he pulls away, leaning back against his bed as he pulls his long legs up towards his chest. His previous anxiety and dread being replaced by the burn of embarrassment as he curses himself for falling apart like that in front of you.

You both just sit there in silence for a while, you want to yell and Jay wants to apologise a million times over, both of you too scared to be the first to speak. You watch him as he sits there, avoiding your gaze as you take in his splotchy, red, tear-soaked face, wanting to pull him back into a hug and slap him in equal measures.

The silence is deafening, until you take a deep, shaky breath, "we need to talk Jay."

He squeezes his eyes tighter at the disappointment in your tone and nods the tiniest bit. He can't look at you, can't face the upset he's caused.

"You punched Pete," you say bluntly, without even realising it as the words tumble out your mouth, an angry huff following when you remember the reason you came to talk to him.

He stays silent.

"You can't go around punching people," you say as you nudge his arm, trying to get him to face you.

"He deserved it," he says, unmoving as he at least opens his eyes, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"I don't give a shit," you snap as you stand up, towering over the boy as he finally meets your gaze, your previous concern replaced with anger at his dismissal of you. He shrinks under your angry stare as he quickly looks away again, "you can't punch him."

"And you can't take him to formal," he says in the smallest of a mumble as his eyes dart around the room. He tries desperately to find something to focus his gaze on, but they keep falling back on you, and your gorgeous face, eyebrows raised and lips parted in shock as you stare at him. He has to stop himself from looking at your lips as he feels his face flush, god now's really not the time.

"Oh my god," you say as it finally dawns on you, arms going up to grip your hair as you stare down at him in shock, "is that what this was about? The fucking formal!"

He looks up at you as his face drops, "it's not about the -"

"The fucking formal!" you say, voice dripping with shock horror, as you turn away from him, staring at the window to stop yourself from throttling your best friend, "you punched Pete cause what? You don't have a date? You're j-"

"Don't fucking say it," he snaps, anger bubbling up in his gut again as he stares at you, "I'm not fucking-" he cuts himself off, unable to get the word out, "I just don't get why it had to be Pete."

"Cause he asked me?" you ask as you turn to look back at him, not sounding so sure yourself, bending down to meet his eyes, "cause I like him?"

"You like him?!" he says, his heart sinking as he stands up suddenly, wincing as you jump back from him as he towers over you, "you fucking like him?! I can't believe you like him, I fucking hate him, that dickhead he-"

"I don't care if you don't like him!" you yell as you throw your arms up, getting up in Jay's face as much as you can from the foot shorter than him you are, "He's nice to me! I like him! Fucking get over it!"

"You could've taken anyone else!" He says as he sinks back down on his bed, putting his head in his hands to calm his breathing, "you know how much I hate him."

"I wasn't exactly thinking about you when he asked me," you say, gritting your teeth as you force the lie out. You had been thinking about him, you'd been daydreaming for weeks, hoping he would ask you. Hoping he would finally admit that he liked you, sweep you off your feet like you always dreamed, "it wasn't exactly a huge list I had to pick fro-"

"You could've gone with me," he says, softer now, as he looks up at you, eyes tired and sad as he watches you stare at him, his heart clenching at the way you let out a small surprised breath.

This idiot, you think as you stare down at him, the anger replacing the hope that flutters in your chest once again when you remember what he did. All this could've been avoided if he just asked you, "don't fucking say that!"

"I could've taken you if you needed someone to go with," he mumbles as he stares at the floor, eyes widening when he realised how bad that sounded. He looks up at you as he watches you physically recoil from his unintentional jab, wanting to wrap you in his arms and keep you safe when tears rise in your eyes.

"I'm not some fucking charity case!" You snap as a tear trickles down your cheek, wiping it away as your chest heaves with heavy breaths, "I wanted someone to ask me because they wanted to! And Pete did!"

"I didn't mean it like that-" Schlatt starts, standing up, raising his hand to touch you but dropping it when he sees the way you glare at him through your tears

"God I fucking hate you sometimes," you spit, wiping away hot tears that trickle down your face.

That hits him deep in his gut as he feels like he's just been punched, "you're not exactly a saint yourself," he says back, trying and failing to sound angry as his voice shakes. Fuck why is he still talking?

This makes you cry harder as you turn away from him, "fuck you," you spit weakly, sobs threatening to escape your lungs as you take long deep gasps of air, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly to try to soothe yourself.

"I said sorry," he says as he throws his arms out, "what more do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop punching my date," you yell at him as you turn back, face flushed red, given up on holding it together as you sob.

"And I want you to stop trying to fuck the whole baseball team!"

Schlatt wakes with a start, breathing heavily, to find himself thankfully, sleeping in his own room, years away from the memory of his own stupidity, as much as it still hurt like a fresh wound to think about. He lays back down on the lumpy couch as he brings his hands back up to his face, groaning at the pain that has been brought to the forefront of his mind again from the dream, feeling almost physical.

He was such a dick. That's his biggest regret, how he treated you that night.

It was the worst, if not only, fight the two of you ever had and in hindsight, he doesn't think you ever truly recovered from it. You forgave him, eventually, like you always did, despite his insistent that he didn't deserve it. You were just that kind of person.

After that though there was a tension in your friendship that he now realises is what pushed you away. It's what led you to ultimately choose to move, to escape the weird baggage he created in your childhood neighbourhood. It's what led him to stop visiting, convinced you were better off without him now, with your new life.

He would think about you constantly, looking through your Instagram at the exciting people you met, and the fun things you did, a deep sense of longing every time he saw your smile, knowing you were a thousand miles away, living your life without him. It felt wrong.

He knows that's what did it, that single night of letting his bruised ego win over his love for you is what did it. The reason you're not together. The reason you'll never be together. The reason that now, years on, he still doesn't think he's atoned for.

The reason he'll never be good enough for you

He felt immense guilt every time he'd video chat when he'd see the new way you dyed your hair or the new band shirt you'd show off from some concert you went to. He was no longer your best friend, you were doing these things without him, without even telling him. He couldn't deal with that, so he just stopped talking to you.

Even now he felt guilty still. Guilty for hurting you. Guilty for not trying harder to mend what he broke. Even guilty for desperately wanting a place back in your life even after the hurt he caused you. He was selfish like that. And you were too kind to say no. He knew that.

He couldn't risk hurting you again.

---

Tagging baddies 🫶 @jellybell92 @olive823 @schlattandcompany @imgayandvoreethatsall @aesthetixhoe @mads-hemmo

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ieetbeez · 16 hours ago

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Small Rant About RE

Hello gang... This has been on my mind for awhile. Today we're talking about Resident Evil and particularly Leon stans. Now I'm gonna come out and say I am one of them! I love that silly little blonde man and he's like number 1 on my favorite capcom white boy tier list next to Cody from Final Fight/SF.

tw: mentions of rape, pedophilia, incest, abuse, and my opinion

Let me make it clear, I'm not kink shaming, I'm not advocating for censorship. Art and literature shouldn't be censored. Sex is cool. Kink is cool (when safe and consensual).

I'm gonna be one of those fans real quick and say, I've been an RE fan since I was like 7. That doesn't really mean much since I can't drink legally but I've been in love with Leon since elementary school. I watched my Dad and brother play RE6 co-op and man... Aka I've been in the fandom for a fat minute. Before the RE2 remake came out I'd see the occasional Dead Dove fic but that's whatever. But I have never seen this much dark romance about Leon of all people!

Like. Call it the T-Virus the way it's everywhere I swear I can't scroll down the damn tag without getting hit with a sexual crime. And let me say, I'm not new to fandom culture. I take don't like don't read to heart (I'm super picky LMAO). And I understand that, that's just how big fandoms are, more people, more bad eggs. I'm sure the majority of y'all are sweet people.

BUT I feel like I shouldn't have to say that romanticizing things like pedophilia, rape, abuse, and incest is disgusting in the big year 2025 but here we are. Honestly, I feel this way about a lot of the fics of other fandoms I'm in. I feel crazy seeing it everywhere and it makes me feel like some sort of sexual puritan. Am I insane for wanting freaky smut and not ...freaky smut??

There for sure is a bigger conversation here about how easily accessible porn is and how quick people to fall into these pipelines. Or how booktok caused a rise in the normalization of dark romance troupes and just pure porn writing (I still hate icebreaker). Or how quick form constant content is slowly leaking it's way into everything. But we’d be here for forever…

And like, it's just completely out of character?? Like if you're gonna write about that can it at least be in character? Wesker fits the dark romance thing LEAGUES better. But LEON?? THE POLICE OFFICER?? Did you even watch a walkthrough? Leon is a sweet upstanding guy with lots of trauma, that is the last thing he'd do to ANYONE! Not saying fics have to be completely accurate all the time but there's literally nothing fun about "Omg what if Leon RAPED you!?" HES NOT THE EVIL RESIDENT HERE GUYS! At some point it's not even about Leon (or whoever the fic is about) anymore, it's just someone wanting to share their sexual fantasies online.

These topics are almost never written with any care and are insanely insensitive to the survivors of these acts. I don't know, sexual crimes are literally some of the most deplorable acts of hatred and depravity someone can do onto another person. I can't imagine getting off to the suffering of others (in a heinous crime way not BDSM way) (BDSM is cool). Have some fucking empathy and stop thinking with your goon wad guys <3

Like at least take it to AO3 so that I can filter it out or smth...

Edit: I just woke up and remembered what else I was gonna say.

You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat their fictional characters. Another thing I don’t like are the Gooner mods for the games. Like they’re fun every once in a while and like if it’s a capcom game you have to expect it. At some point though, it just stops being sexy and feels gross or uncomfortable.

Idk maybe I’m in the minority here but there has never been a single time where I was playing any RE game and thought to myself, “man… I wish I could see Leon’s end rod whipping in the wind rn…” Obviously, I wanna see that man oiled up butt booty naked doing jumping jacks like as most normal people do but… zawg…

That’s also like an actual person?? At least for the remakes. Maybe this just isn’t my dove to eat but the treat Leon like some sort doll. I know it’s kinda weak to be like this for a fictional person but yeah </3

#resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 2 #resident evil #re2 remake #RE #RE2 #re2 leon #re4 remake #re4 leon #re4 #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #FREELEON2025

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wisteriahyacinth · 3 days ago

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I'd like to think that if I was in the PJO universe, I'd be friends with Luke, Jason, and Leo.

But if I am being real with myself. I'd probably never talk to them ever, get super intimidated, and probably never make actual friends with any of the main characters. Except for like.. Silena.. I think I'd be friends with her. She just seems like the most friendly out of all the characters.

Think about it. Percy when he first went to camp he was distraugt over losing Sally and all that jazz. Then when he comes back he's like super popular and then he gets betrayed by Luke. WHERE IN THAT TIME FRAME AM I SUPPOSED TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH HIM? I'D FEEL GUILTY BECAUSE HE'S ALWAYS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING. Don't even get me started on the other books. Then when we skip to HOO, he's literally missing and has no memories. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH HIM?? THEN THERE'S ANOTHER WORLD ENDING QUEST.

Next, let's head to Luke. 1. He's already pretty broody, and I don't know if I'd have the social skills to approach someone like that. There IS a chance I could bond with him over the whole parents thing but ehh? It truly seems like the only true friends he had were Annabeth and Thalia. So making friends with him seems super hard.

Then Jason. My favourite character. Not ONLY was he treated like a prince in waiting at Camp Jupiter. He was probably really cold and stiff and I don't do well with people who don't seem to like me. Or even worse, I over analyze Jason's demeanor and feel guilty for wanting to talk to him and be friends with him because he already has so much on his plate! Then of course the whole prophecy happens and then he goes to CHB and then he like.. BARELY TALKS TO ANYONE!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS WITH THESE PEOPLE??? If i was a Roman, maybe I'd be an acquaintance at best, but that literally means nothing because duh, everybody knew him. Like.. i feel like I'd try too hard and make him think that I only wanna be friends with him because of his status. When I just suck at communication!!!

Leo.. Leo might be someone I could be friends with. But AGAIN. He'd probably intimidate me and stuff.

Annabeth to me in the books, always came off as really.. cold?? I dunno how to describe it, but similar to Luke, she came off as not being the most friendly person. And as a person who SUCKS at making friends, I'd probably overthink that she's annoyed with me then start avoiding her.

Frank and Hazel? Okay.. maybe I'd be friends with them. I feel like I'd totally vibe with them. They seem very.. not intimidating and understanding??

Then Piper.. I also don't know! I think what would happen if I was in the books would be that I'm trying to become friends with Jason, Leo, and Piper. And then when Jason is very stoic and cold, I'd stop talking to him. But Piper could very well get possessive and not want to talk to me??

Then there's Thalia. We barely see anything of her in camp. So being friends with her would probably only happen if you were a hunter. Meaning there is no chance I'd even get close to her at all. And also, I feel like I'd get intimidated by her.

Reyna. She's just like Jason. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE FRIENDS WITH SOMEONE WHO HAS SO MANY RESPONSIBILITIES??? LIKE.. I'D FEEL BAAAD!! Also, I don't know if she'd like me.

In summary. As much as I LOVE these characters, I feel like the only one's I'd be friends with in real life would be Leo (maybe), Silena, Hazel, and Frank.

I really wanna make a 2nd post going more in depth, but i know no one will care so what's the point yk?

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lightbulb-warning · 9 months ago

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shit man he's downright POSTITNOTE'D

#ouma kokichi #kokichi oma #drv3 #im so tired #good luck with may gamers lets get through it!!!!! (sleepiest voice imaginable)#i got nothhing else to say bye mwa #maiora draws #wait i do actually does anyone wanna see the bleedthrough #questionmark #*spooky bgm* there's a secret forurth kokichi that lives exclusively it the confines of other-side-of-the-page and a layer of varnish ooooo #its SO unimpressive <3 it's just there. buried under inappropriate use of material and postits #truly a nothing burger!!!#he just stares at me when i look throu the book. taunting.#you too can be haunted by the face of 'finish your fucking perspective studies maiora' for the LOW low price of asking nicely!!#as a gift <3 #taunted #you get it #im babbling at this point all of this is in the name of a silly goofy time (mine) all is good #im v sleep deprived #i don't actually know english the more i think about it #i need to stop procrastinating im going back to stress time BYE HAVENICEDAY

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dazais-guardian-angel · 1 year ago

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Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

#bungou stray dogs #seriously call me a clown and point and laugh at me if I'm proven wrong all you want #but I really feel like there's solid evidence for this #either s5 isn't gonna reach 109 at all (but I seriously cannot fathom where you would want to stop before then) or they'll go beyond it #if they really do end it with 109....... well i'll give Bones kudos for having the balls to do that ig lol #maybe i'm underestimating (overestimating???) them idk #also just to clarify I don't wanna make it sound like I think Asagiri let the anime/Bones dictate the manga's pacing #like I'm sure these were his/their (him and Harukawa's) own decisions first and foremost #not that (if this theory is true) the anime had a major impact on how the chapters were split and that it-#-would have been extremely different otherwise #i'm pretty confident in that Asagiri does not do anything with BSD he isn't comfortable with #and he doesn't let anyone tell him how to write his story #I just feel like he worked with Bones to make this near-simultaneous release happen #BUT if this is the case I don't feel like it had any major effect on the writing/final product that is the manga #like the last handful of chapters have been so incredible #so I at least am still perfectly happy lol #(i mean i'm devastated and a nervous wreck but u know 🫡 in a good way lmao)#anyway 110 in two days please let this theory be true because I need some fucking hope already #please let Oda show up as Dazai's guardian angel to help (see what I did there-)#it would be the perfect way to end the collective season that is 4/5 with s4 beginning with Oda and now ending with Oda #Asagiri are you reading me are you picking up what I'm putting down please please a ghost Oda is long overdue please-#Oda Verlaine Adam just GIVE ME SOMEONE ALREADY 😭😭😭#MAYBE EVEN A TASTE OF THE FYODOR BACKSTORY TO TIE INTO HIM BEING IN ANIME UNTOLD ORIGINS. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS

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