#either way I don't have the time for it!! and yet.
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deathbxnny · 2 days ago
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hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!
Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader
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Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3
Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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》VI
"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.
Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.
"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.
"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.
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》EKKO
He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.
It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.
"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.
"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.
The festival was going to be great, to say the least.
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》JINX
You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.
Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.
And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"
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multipleoccupancy · 2 days ago
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He had once been exactly the same as far as he could understand, he had accepted the first ticket out of the ward and Theo wasn't going to pretend as if he hadn't done the same. Davidson had got to him first, that was all. Not too keen on pointing it out to Violet in that moment, wanting to be as distant from the other Theo as possible in her mind, he just accepted her insistence with a nod. "You have met him, I haven't." He pointed out with his conceding to her answer. "I hope you never see him again either." He at least gave and certainly hoped that was the case, she was already traumatised by him, he didn't think there was a reason to send her back there.
Not noticing she had expertly dodged asking about the rules, and sensibly so, Theo ran an absent hand through his hair for the thought on what other agents sometimes got up to. "Sometimes they cause civilian casualties, attack each other for no reason, are inappropriate with each other or civilians." He made sure to avoid talking about those with the unhealthy relationship and attraction towards monsters. "Sometimes they don't complete a mission and another group end up with a much bigger and more dangerous task." There was a problem in the North of the country that they knew about but were not sure how to handle yet.
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While it was true he and Samantha had made something of a difference in how Delta Green treated its agents, it was still just a small dent in the wider problem. So many were used up and cast aside once they went insane or died, their families receiving nothing for an agent's sacrifices. It was something he knew would not change in his lifetime but they could work on setting up the foundations of it.
He shook his head at her calling him cool, still not quite able to manage even a poor dad joke at it. However he was pleased to have seen her accept the compliments and he smiled a little for it. "I'm sorry I scared you by the way," he said of his latest episode. Theo tended to get frustrated and embarrassed when his OCD became obvious, but this time it had been different and he was upset that he had caused her so much worry.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
"But he is nothing like you," she countered. Violet knew that the Horned One had taken advantage of a very dark time in Theo's life. Back at the ward, she had worried he was going to offer the same deal to her dad. Instead, it was Agent Davidson who had offered him a deal. But could she have judged her dad for choosing either deal? Not really, no. The ward was a terrible, terrible place. She no longer judged Evil Theo for falling for the Horned One's promises. But he was not a scared teenager anymore. He was a tyrant, now. "I just never want to see him again." And Violet didn't want her dad to see him, either. Her dad was strong. But Evil Theo was barely human. He was more monster than man.
Her eyebrows rose up. "What kind of dumb things do they do?" As for the rules, she didn't dare ask about them, worried they would trigger him. Agent Davidson had explained some of the rules to them, and he had made it very clear that any misstep would have her dad sent back to the ward. She certainly didn't want to bring back this memory right now. Instead, she chuckled at the image of her dad dragging agents by the ears.
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"Samantha and you have already made a difference," she encouraged with a smile, "you changed how they recruit people. Maybe, with time, you can make an even bigger impact."
Violet had not expected all this praise, and it left her speechless and bright red. "Thank you," she croaked shyly, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I'm not as cool as you, though." Would she go far in life? Violet had been so sure of her path before the fire. And then, she had been sure again about Delta Green, only to lose all certainty once more. Now, she didn't really know. There was the FBI, and who knew? Maybe she could do what they had talked about at the ward, and open a special branch in the FBI.
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genderqueerdykes · 3 days ago
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holy shit wait…your 32???
I…im gonna cry
I didn’t know we can live this long…
not just trans mass but…
alterhuman…and plurals..and…
I can’t…
so happy
gonna cry……..
yes i am! i was born in 1992 :)
that's exactly why i have my age in my bio- i've wanted to show people that you don't "outgrow" fundamental parts of your identity. it's natural to adopt and shed identities as we age, but i've been out as genderqueer since 19! nothing has changed, i'm still the same genderqueer person i was all those years ago!
and if anything- life has gotten better in my 30s. as a word of advice to most people out there: your teen years and your twenties FUCKING SUCK!!!!!!!! they tell you those are the "best years of your life" but they're NOT- you're growing into a world that is terrifying and doesn't understand you. you're scared. your brain and body are still developing and you're constantly facing new challenges. those are honestly i think the HARDEST years of your life, hands down
when i was a teenager, i would think to myself "phht there's literally no way i'm making it past 25 lmao" and figure that life ends after 25. well, that day came where i turned 25... and nothing changed.
and then i turned 30. still, nothing changed
now i'm 32 and... nothing has changed. maturation happens with age, yes, but it doesn't mean that you're suddenly a completely different person. people have such a shitty view on 30 year olds, like it's somehow "embarrassing" to be above the age of 25 years old. people in their 30s are constantly picked on, we're constantly told to "act our age" when... we are. i'm happier than ever realizing that I made it to my 30s, still trans, still nonhuman, still plural
i've been in treatment for DID since 2017, and while i've healed a lot, i have not integrated with my alters, and i never will. i don't want to. this is how my brain functions. the dissociation can be a nightmare for me, but my brain needs different people inside of it in order to be able to function properly. we tried to force ourselves to live as a singlet for 3 years and what ended up happening was that host at that time cracked from being under the constant pressure and still has never returned. the amount of stress it placed on us to try to live as a singlet was not worth it. at all
there hasn't been a singular moment in my adult life where i stopped being nonhuman, either. that was something that i never even tried to force myself out of. i never viewed it as weird or something that i should "outgrow"- i told my own mother that i did not identify as human as a child and that never left me. even now, i still wear dog collars, ears, tails, and take nature walks and do things to make myself feel more like my nonhuman selves. i'm still a furry, too!
i might not be a queer "elder" yet, but i'm happy as can be to be able to be an older queer person who can use their experience to help younger folks. thanks for sending this message! trust me, there really is a life after your 20s. your teens and 20s suck massively. but after i passed 30 i became more down to earth about my age. it's not a bad thing to live past 20- in fact, it's a badge of honor. i made it. i'm still breathing, i'm still here, still queer, despite all attempts to prevent me from still being here.
i'm going to continue be here for a long, long time, and you can be here with me, too.
take care of yourself! thanks for stopping by!
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yan-randomfandom · 1 day ago
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Hii! Could I request a yan! Jinx with a darling who is on hunger strike? (Bacically, darling got kidnapped and so she decided to stop eating till she gets freed...is that even a word?)
Anyways, ty 4 reading my request and I would be really happy if you were to fuffil it <3
Make sure u drink enough water!
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Yandere!Jinx x GN!Starving!Reader
a/n: thank you for your kind words anon! 😺 i just realized how much energy i gave mc here omg 😭🙏
tw; starvation, kidnapped MC ermm
💧 ;
Stubbornness is something both you and Jinx share. It's built into your very core. She knows this, and yet, here we are.
You're tied to a chair, looking away from her with a deep frown on your face—unwilling to eat.
"My sweetest," Jinx groans, dragging out her words. "Darling, baby, angel..." She places her hands on the back of your chair, her breath brushing the tip of your nose—"beloved."
...
You roll your eyes. "It stinks."
With an offended gasp, she recoils from you, her eye twitching. "I— You— Come on! At least I had dinner, but you? You haven't eaten anything for days!"
As if the Gods have a sense of humor, your stomach lets out a loud, drawn-out rumble. It goes on for a few moments... like her hideout wasn't quiet enough already. You have half the heart to glance at Jinx, who's watching you with an unimpressed expression.
Against your better judgment, and despite the deadly stomachache, you don't say anything.
Jinx pushes the bowl of food in front of you. "...Your, uh, stomach's hungry. Please. I just want you to eat—"
"I want you to let me go," you snap, glaring at her. You emphasize your point by rattling the chair with your frail limbs in frustration. "It doesn't help that you tied my arms and legs up. Honestly."
She returns your look, almost clueless. "It didn't have to be that way! You kept trying to escape!"
"I wonder why!!"
An annoyed groan. You can't even tell if it was from you, or her. Maybe both.
...
...
"...I told you I can't," she mutters softly. Not when she started a war.
You scoff and turn away. "Not that you can't. You won't."
Jinx does not reply.
Then, she chuckles. "Still amazin'. All this energy, even in starvation."
...
You press your lips together. Truth be told, you're barely holding it together. You're simply not giving up. Even if it's out of spite. Especially.
She starts walking. The sound of her booted footsteps grows fainter and fainter until, finally—the exit closes.
Jinx left you.
Nothing else accompanies you but the quiet humming and faint lights in her hideout.
Your body seizes the chance to collapse, eyes closing in one blink.
...
The next time you wake up, you grudgingly rub your eyes. A yawn escapes you.
You stretch your body. Your joints pop, relief spreading all across—
Wait.
You sit up from the softest surface you've ever been on in a while. It takes a moment to clear your vision, but once it does, you fall in disbelief.
Lifting your hand, you eye your wrists suspiciously. The patterns of the rope is still visible. But faint. It must have been a while since they were removed.
The chair you've been stuck in for days is gone. Your limbs are untied, finally fucking free from the numbness. A small fan offers a refreshing breeze next to you.
Your heart starts racing.
A whiff of your favorite scent. You perk up.
There's a glass of water filled with ice on the table. Beside it, an irresistible array of food. All your favorite types.
You don't even think twice.
either u try to escape or eat the food—your choice. do both tho cuz u might idk die
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mononijikayu · 3 days ago
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no. 1 party anthem — geto suguru.
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“....What about my laugh?” He asks you, his cheeks flustered like cherry wine. “Is…is the sound good?” You matched his flustered cheeks. “It’s…It’s like a song.” “A song?” “My favorite song.” You admitted to him, slowly smiling as you shyly looked up to his flustered gaze. “Your voice is my favorite lullaby. But your laugh? It’s my favorite song.”
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;
WARNING/S: post hidden inventory, pre-jjk 0, heavy angst, romance, falling in love, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, break up, slice of life, timeskip, depression, hurt, mourning, loneliness, trauma, pain, humor, guilt, pining, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, profanity, depiction of break up, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of loneliness, mention of events post hidden inventory, mention of events in jjk 0, cursed user! suguru, jujutsu sorcerer! reader;
WORD COUNT: 7.7k words
NOTE: i've been getting into arctic monkeys again (as you can tell) and i have to say, no. 1 party anthem has done things to me these past few weeks. AM is such a good album. i really don't think that one can get any rawer in story telling about the sorrows of parting the way AM had depicted it. so i hope you listen to it one of these days, if you haven't already. anyway, i hope you all enjoy this. i love you all so much!!! see you on the next one <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
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IT WAS A SURPRISE, TO SEE HIM TONIGHT. It had been nearly five years since you last saw Geto Suguru, but the weight of his absence still lingered in the quiet moments of your life. And it had taken your breath away, you knew that much. Because you had already resigned yourself to never seeing him again since that night.
But you can’t help but wonder about all the suffering and grief that had carved its way through those five years, shaping the person who stands here now.
The you of the present feels like a stranger sometimes, a mosaic pieced together from shattered moments, each shard reflecting a memory too painful to hold but too significant to discard.
There were nights when you lay awake, your mind replaying fragments of what once were half-formed smiles, laughter that now seemed like it belonged to someone else, and the weight of a bond that had been torn apart, leaving jagged, unclean edges that never truly healed.
You’d press your fingers against the raw places, testing their tenderness, reminding yourself that the pain was real. That he was real. But he wasn’t here anymore. He had chosen his life. He had made his bed with his reality. And so must you. 
It all felt like another lifetime, one so distant it seemed almost like a dream. The person you were then, the one who loved him, trusted him, believed in him. That person feels impossibly far away now. You’d convinced yourself you’d buried that version of you alongside the memory of him. And with time, you believed it.
You never expected to see him again.
And yet, there he was.
The sight of him felt like a blow, like the ground had shifted beneath you and left you unsteady. His presence unraveled the delicate stitches you’d used to bind your wounds, pulling them loose thread by thread. He looked both the same and different, an unsettling contradiction that left you breathless.
Time has not been kind to either of you. You knew that much. Geto Suguru was a handsome man, he always was and he always will be. But you could see things that people wouldn’t. You see everything, you know everything about him. Maybe more than himself.
If time had not been kind to him, you could only judge from afar about things that had happened to him. You could see it in the lines etched into his face, the heaviness in his gaze. But what struck you most was the familiar ache you thought you’d buried. it resurfaced all at once, sharp and unforgiving.
You told yourself you’d moved on. You told yourself he was a ghost, a memory that had no power over you anymore. But standing here now, your heart betrays you.
And for a moment, all the pain, all the nights spent grieving, all the years spent rebuilding—none of it seems to matter. For a moment, you forget the hurt and only remember how it felt to love him.
It happened on a random Friday night at a bar you frequented with your other sorcerer friends. It was a hub for sorcerers to gather after missions. With how Satoru and Shoko were also getting too busy to hang out with you, and Nanami not frequenting such a place, you had no other choice but to find yourself some new people to mingle around too when they weren’t free. Life doesn’t stop when you lose someone.
So, you ended up finding this bar. And over the years, you have become a regular. Even more so, you found new people to meddle life with. You all of course still can’t meet everyday. But it was more regular than most of your other relationships. That gets you through the day most of the time.
The bar in itself wasn’t special. It was a cozy, dimly lit spot with just enough charm to make it feel like a second home. But it was yours, a place where you could laugh, unwind, and forget the world outside. It was ironic that he of all people would show up here. Perhaps the universe had a cruel sense of humor, or maybe fate had finally decided to intervene.
Geto Suguru hadn’t been looking for you that night. Or maybe he had, in some subconscious, desperate way. His sources, mutual acquaintances, whispers from insiders had led him here, for business.
It’s why he had a special grade glamour on. But even he didn’t fully understand why he had stayed for a while. He didn’t need to. Someone else could have done this for him. 
But when he stepped into the inner corners of the bar, his purple eyes scanned the room almost out of habit. Nothing much intrigued him in this place. It was too common, too crowded. It wasn’t his fashion. It wasn’t his scene. 
But then, he looked further away and stopped.
In that moment, he knew that he saw you.
The moment froze. You didn’t notice him at first, too caught up in the warmth of your friends’ laughter. But he noticed everything. The way your smile lit up the room, the easy way you leaned into your conversation, the carefree aura you carried. 
It was a stark contrast to the image he had of you locked in his mind: the you who had walked away from him, or maybe the you he had walked away from. He couldn’t decide anymore. He never made up his mind about that. Perhaps doing so would have hurt more.
When your eyes finally met, it hit you like a tidal wave. Recognition. Shock. Something unnameable. No one else would see the cursed energy glamour the way you would. You would notice.
You would see him. All of him. Only you could do that in a way people will never know how to. No one else could tear apart Geto Suguru the way you have, the way you will for all his life.
For a heartbeat, it felt like no time had passed, like you were back in that shared moment before everything fell apart. But then reality set in, and you turned away. Too quickly, too deliberately. You excused yourself from the table, and when you returned, he was gone.
Geto Suguru had fled back to the club he’d come from, his chest tight with a cocktail of emotions he couldn’t untangle. He should’ve known better. You were no longer a part of his life. He’d lost the right to be. And yet, he couldn’t let it go. 
After downing two more drinks, the gnawing need to see you again overpowered him. He left the club and returned to the bar, heart pounding, searching. Asking the bartender if they’d seen you, scanning every corner of the room for a glimpse of your face. But you were gone.
Suguru wasn’t sure what hurt more: the hope that had flared in his chest when he saw you or the emptiness left in its place when you disappeared.
He hadn’t planned on this—on seeing you, on unraveling in public like this. Life after you had been a blur of responsibility and regret. You’d moved to Fukuoka to teach to get as far away from Tokyo as possible and he focused on his new family, his new vision. 
Geto Suguru poured himself into work, convincing himself that distance was the answer. Just as much as you had thought the same thing. Out of sight, out of mind. But you were never truly gone from his thoughts, and the years only deepened the hollow ache. And perhaps, neither was he. 
Now, both of you are back in Tokyo, perhaps even just for tonight. He was sitting alone at the bar, he stared into his glass, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the edges. He was alone, so far away from you and your warmth, and your smiles and you who was everything.
The laughter of strangers around him was a cruel echo of the joy you’d shared with your friends just hours ago. He drank to dull the pain, but it only sharpened the edges of his misery. Each sip dragged him further into the pit he’d been clawing his way out of for years.
Suguru hated himself for the way he felt, for the way his chest still tightened at the thought of you, for the way he still longed for something he’d already destroyed. He had made his choices, he stood by them firmly. 
And yet as the night wore on, his mind spiraled further into the what-ifs and could-have-beens, until he was too far gone to remember why he started drinking in the first place, he could only think how miserable he truly was.
By the time Suguru stumbled out of the bar, the night had deepened into an eerie quiet. The streets were nearly empty, save for the faint hum of passing cars and the distant laughter of people heading home.
The cold air stung his skin, but it didn’t sober him. Nothing could cut through the fog in his mind, the haze of alcohol and regret that weighed him down.
He wandered aimlessly, his thoughts circling back to you like a cruel refrain. How could you look so happy? How had you moved on so effortlessly when he was still stuck in the wreckage of what you once shared? Part of him wanted to be angry, but the anger never came. All that remained was the bitter taste of self-loathing.
When Suguru finally stopped walking, he found himself at a familiar park; a place you’d both loved. The benches were worn, the trees towering silhouettes against the starless sky. He sank onto a bench and buried his face in his hands, the chill of the night pressing against his flushed skin.
Memories rushed in unbidden, as vivid as the night you first kissed under those very trees. He could almost hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your hand in his.
It was unbearable, the way the past clung to him like a second skin. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the sheer weight of his emotions, but his chest heaved, and he let out a strangled sob, his breath fogging in the cold air.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had convinced himself that leaving had been the right thing to do, that the distance would save you both from the inevitable pain of being together.
But in his effort to protect you, he had only condemned himself. And now, seeing you happy, surrounded by friends, made him realize just how deeply he had failed.
Meanwhile, you ended up back at your friend’s apartment, all the laughter and enjoyment had come fading as the events of the night replayed in your mind. Seeing Geto Suguru again had been a shock you weren’t prepared for. None else noticed but you. If anything, it was as if he had wanted you to know that it was him. 
You couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought. He’d come back. But for what? Why have he come back? You’d been doing fine for the past ten years. And now in an instant, you find yourself unable to do anything about these tears that just pours out. 
You’d spent years trying to bury the memories, to build a life that didn’t revolve around the void Suguru had left behind. And for the most part, you’d succeeded. But tonight had cracked something so deep within you, like a breaking dam. It was that wound you thought had healed. A wound so deep that maybe you never noticed it never healed.
Your friends noticed your distraction and tried to coax you back into the lighthearted energy of the evening, but it was no use. When it comes to Suguru, you knew you would never be able to pull yourself back from the brink. You left early, along with your friend and retreated to the quiet of your own space in her house. 
Sitting in the dim glow of your living room, you stared at your phone, your thumb hovering over his name in your contacts. It had been years since you’d last spoken, and the silence between you was deafening. But tonight, it felt heavier, like it was begging to be broken.
Suguru, in his drunken haze, finally pulled out his phone. His fingers trembled as he stared at the empty message thread between you from all those years ago. He never changed phones. He just couldn’t. 
Not when this held so much of you, more than you could ever know. And he’d hate to part with it. He hates parting with you. The cursor blinked at him mockingly, daring him to say something, anything. But what could he say? What words could possibly bridge the chasm he had created?
You both sat in separate silences, even far away from each other. Even then, you both carry the weight of your shared history hanging in the air, stifling you both whole. Somewhere between the spaces of what was and what could never be, a thread still connected the two of you in the frayed, fragile, but unbroken echoes of life.
And for the first time in years, you both wondered what it would have been like to say hello.
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IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO, FLASHING IN YOUR MIND SO CLEARLY. Your relationship with Geto Suguru began like a slow sunrise—gentle, almost imperceptible at first. Everyone could see something beautiful about it. You could too.
But it wasn’t something either of you could pinpoint, the exact moment it started, but before long, the light of it had crept in, filling the cracks and chasing away the cold.
At first, you were just kids, thrown together in the chaotic, unforgiving world of jujutsu sorcery. Life and death weren’t just abstract concepts; they were constant, hovering over every breath you took, lurking in the shadows of every mission. But with him, there was something different. Something softer.
It started with stolen glances in the classroom, shared smirks over jokes that only you two seemed to find funny. Then came the late-night conversations that stretched far too long, but neither of you cared. You’d sit on the temple steps, the world silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.
“You ever think about what we’d be doing if we weren’t... this?” he asked one night, his voice low, almost hesitant. He looked at you then, his dark eyes searching yours like he might find some hidden answer there.
“Sometimes, when I have some time. I think about it. With you, me, Satoru and Shoko.” you admitted. “But then I think... would we have ever met? If we were just ordinary people?”
He smiled, that small, almost private smile he saved just for you. “I don’t think the universe would’ve let us miss each other.”
“Even just the two of us?” You wondered at him.
“Especially the two of us.” He grinned even wider, patting your head. 
Those words lingered with you long after that night, as did the quiet weight of his presence. Suguru wasn’t just your teammate or your classmate; he became your confidant, your safe place. The one person who could make you feel human, even when the world tried to strip that away.
There was lightness in your connection, a reprieve from the heaviness that came with your lives. The warmth of his laugh, the way his shoulders relaxed when you were around. It was as if the two of you carried pieces of each other’s burdens without ever having to say it out loud. 
Everytime you were with him, you felt like everything was whole.
The world made sense when you were with him.
And you were proven right each and every single time.
He was the only one for you in this world.
It had been a long day, and exhaustion lingered in the edges of your mind, but he sat across from you, legs crossed lazily, and the smallest smile teased at his lips. You remember telling a joke.
You don’t remember it in its entirety but you knew it was something about the absurdity of the higher-ups’ newest “ingenious” strategy and for a moment, his guarded composure shattered.
He laughed.
It wasn’t just a chuckle or a polite hum. No, it was a real laugh. It was as though life had existed the first time he laughed. It was so bright, unrestrained, and utterly disarming.
The sound was pure, and for a moment, you could almost forget the weight he carried, the things he wouldn’t talk about late at night when the shadows seemed to pull closer.
“God, that laugh.” you murmured, half to yourself, but he caught it.
“What about it?” His voice held a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with curiosity.
“It’s… nice. Unexpected.” you said, and you could feel your cheeks warming under his steady gaze.
“....What about my laugh?” He asks you, his cheeks flustered like cherry wine. “Is…is the sound good?”
You matched his flustered cheeks. “It’s…It’s like a song.”
“A song?”
“My favorite song.” You admitted to him, slowly smiling as you shyly looked up to his flustered gaze. “Your voice is my favorite lullaby. But your laugh? It’s my favorite song.”
That was the beginning. That laugh became your favorite sound, a lifeline in the chaos. It became the thing you sought, the thing you tried to coax out of him in fleeting moments between missions or during those rare stretches of quiet.
You had stolen moments, the two of you. Too many to count, too many to want to forget. It was when life wasn’t pressing its cruelty upon you. Late nights stretched into early mornings, both of you lying in the grass, the stars above almost as bright as his gaze.
“You see that one?” you whispered once, pointing to a cluster of stars. “It reminds me of you.”
“Oh? How’s that?” he asked, smirking slightly, his head tilted in mock challenge.
“It burns so brightly you can’t help but stare,” you said without thinking, and the smirk faded into something softer, something almost shy.
“Careful, I might start believing you, you know?” he murmured, looking away, but not before you caught the blush dusting his cheeks.
“But aren’t I correct with what I said?”
“Ah, you’re just as cheeky as Satoru.”
You grinned at him. “But I’m better than him, aren’t I? Because I’m your favorite!”
Suguru laughed, his cheeks warm like a scarlet sunrise. “Yeah, yeah. You are my favorite.”
And then there was the kiss. It happened on an evening like any other. It was only a normal day. A day like any other. Nothing special at all.
You had been talking, your words flowing so easily it felt as if you were spinning threads of a tapestry you had both been weaving for years. Somehow, you just belonged together.
When he leaned in, his hand brushing the side of your face, it wasn’t a surprise. It felt inevitable, like the tides meeting the shore. Like destiny itself had been guiding you here. You felt like you were home as you found yourself overtaken by him.
When his lips met yours, it was as if the world stopped turning. It wasn’t fireworks or an explosion. It was just warmth that was familiar. The breeze of evening moonlight. it was a sigh, a soft release of tension you didn’t realize you had been carrying. Everything else fell away. It was just him and you.
And in that moment, you knew.
He was the one for you.
He was the love of your life.
“This feels... right, don’t you think?” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was so soft you almost didn’t hear it.
“It does. Perfect.” you whispered back. “Like it was always supposed to happen.”
You didn’t just love him. No, you recognized him. Across time, across lives, across every distance imaginable. You had found him, and you would find him again.
Every time. Every lifetime. And you would love him, fiercely, until it burned you alive. Because he wasn’t just a part of your world—he was your world.
For a while, it was perfect. Together, you built a fragile sanctuary amidst the chaos. Even as the missions grew harder and the burden of protecting the world loomed heavier, you found solace in each other.
Geto Suguru would hold you close on nights when the horrors of your work were too much to bear, whispering reassurances that tomorrow would be better.
But tomorrow wasn’t better.
The world began to crack around him. He had blamed himself for Amanai Riko. For Satoru’s brush with death. For failure of a mission that relied so much on him. And that had buried him under, even before he had come and gone to the grim reaper’s arms. 
Everything you had loved about him slowly faded, like memories of yesterday. You saw it in the way his smiles became rarer, in the way his laughter came less easily. He grew quieter, more distant, and when he came back from missions, he wouldn’t talk about them anymore.
Instead, he’d sit in silence, staring at nothing, as if the weight of what he’d seen was too much to put into words. As if nothing in this world mattered at all. As if nothing was worth living for. 
At first, you tried to pull him out of it. You were the only person that could do something like that, if Satoru couldn’t. You have tried hard. You really did.
You did as much as you could to remind him of the ideals that had driven you both to fight in the first place. Of the future that you could have together, where you could be happy. 
But Suguru wasn’t just tired of everything—he was angry.
And he didn’t want to hear anything more about those ideas.
They had failed him, as much as the adults had already done.
He wasn’t in the mind to talk anymore, he was tired of talking.
“They don’t deserve it.” he said  harshly, that one night, his voice low and simmering. “The people we save—they don’t even know what we sacrifice for them. They go about their lives while we bleed for them. It’s not fair.”
“It’s not about fairness, Suguru.” you said, reaching for his hand. “It’s about doing what’s right. They are weaker than us. They don’t know the world of such suffering. But we do. Suguru—”
But he pulled away, shaking his head at you. “Maybe what’s right is letting them fend for themselves. Maybe what’s right is taking back control.”
“Suguru, you can’t—”
“I have had enough of it. I can’t….I can’t have any more of this bullshit. Please.”
You didn’t recognize the man sitting before you. His words were sharp, edged with bitterness that scared you. You tried to argue, to bring him back to the man you had fallen in love with, but Geto Suguru was slipping through your fingers, and no matter how tightly you held on, you couldn’t stop it. The more you tried, the more he pulled away. 
The breaking point came on a mission, one you didn’t share with him. You weren’t there to see the moment he made his choice—the moment he decided that humanity was no longer worth saving.
You only heard the aftermath: Suguru Geto, once a protector, had killed. He had killed too many people. Even his own parents. He had turned his back on everything he once stood for. And all to be free. All to stop those voices in his head. All to stop being miserable.
When you confronted him that day, you were trembling. A part from anger, part from heartbreak. You looked at him, eyes so brimming with tears as he stood there with those dark purple orbs narrowing at you. 
Almost as though he couldn’t care less about it all. It was as if he didn’t carry the world on his shoulders anymore. In that moment, it was better that their suffering freed him. That’s what it looked like to you. And that broke you. More than you could even say. More than you could even understand. 
“Tell me it’s not true, Suguru.” you said, your voice cracking. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”
But Geto Suguru didn’t lie. He’s never been good at lying. If anything, you didn’t need him to say anything. You already knew the truth. You’ve seen the bodies. You’ve seen the reports. But somehow, hearing him say it. 
Perhaps that’s the only way to make it real. That’s the only way to know the truth. He looked at you with calm, unflinching purple eyes, the same eyes that used to hold so much warmth. How could such warm eyes feel so cold, so lifeless, so devoid of the will to live?
“They deserved it.” he said simply, his hands resting on his pockets. “The world needs to change. And I’m going to change it.”
You stepped back, shaking your head, tears streaming down your face. “This isn’t you, Suguru. This isn’t who you are.I know…I know who you are. Please, just…Just…”
“It’s who I’ve always been.” he said, and the certainty in his voice shattered you.
Tears fell from your eyes, to the point that you couldn’t see anymore. You let out a guttering cry, your hand covering your lips as though you know you can’t let it out anymore. You can’t stand like this in front of him. But you couldn’t move. You couldn’t stop staring at him. Where did your Suguru go? Where was he?
“I don’t know you anymore.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You sobbed, looking at the ground. “Who are you? Where’s my Suguru? Where is he?”
For a moment, just a moment, his mask slipped. You saw the guilt in his eyes, the pain he was trying so hard to bury. Not because he’s hurt others, no. But because he’s hurt you. That burns him more.
That kills him more. But then it was gone, replaced by the resolute facade he had built to shield himself. He knew he couldn't come back. He’s gone too far for him to walk away from it.
“I hope you know that….I’m sorry.” he said to you, watching you close your eyes. As though wanting to pretend that this was just a bad dream. “But this is the only way.”
You wanted to scream, to grab him and shake him until he saw reason. But you knew it wouldn’t make a difference. You always knew better than that. He was resolute. He always has been. And so, he would not turn back. Not even for you. 
The Geto Suguru you loved was gone. He was killed. He was consumed by the darkness he couldn’t escape. And you will never get him back. The last time you saw him, he was walking away, his silhouette fading into the distance. You stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of his absence crushing you.
In the days and weeks that followed, you replayed every moment, every conversation, every sign you had missed. You blamed yourself, even though you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have saved him.
But that knowledge didn’t make the loss any easier. You were sure that he was the love of your life. Geto Suguru has been your love, your partner, your everything.
And now he was gone, leaving behind nothing but memories and the ghost of what could have been. And now you had to pick up what’s left from the desolation that swallowed everything whole. If not you, who will?
In the weeks that followed, life moved on around you, but you felt like you were frozen in place. The routines of being a jujutsu sorcerer continued. Day in day out, it was missions, training, meetings. But somehow,  it all felt hollow. 
Every face you saved, every curse you exorcised, felt like a mockery of what you had lost. How could you keep protecting a world that had taken Geto Suguru from you? How could you keep meeting with faces that didn’t know how to protect a child? How could you keep finding yourself living like this over and over?
But you still did it anyway.
You knew it was the right thing to do.
Suffering or not, you had to live.
You had to continue on.
Your nights were the hardest. Sleep became a distant memory, replaced by endless hours of replaying the past. You found yourself going back to the places you had shared with him.
The quiet park where you used to sit and watch the stars, the ramen shop where he’d always order extra broth, the training grounds where you’d spar until you were both breathless with laughter.
But those places were empty now, stripped of their meaning. Without him, they were just shadows of something you could never get back. Things that were just gone, forever lost in the abyss of his own making. An abyss you had sealed just as much, by continuing to live the way you have.
The news of Geto Suguru’s defection spread quickly. Whispers followed you wherever you went, people looking at you with pity, like you were some tragic figure in a story they couldn’t stop retelling.
Some were kind, offering empty condolences that only made you feel worse. Others were cruel, blaming you for not seeing the signs, for not stopping him before it was too late.
But the worst were the people who said nothing, who looked at you like you were a ticking time bomb, as if Suguru’s choices had tainted you by association. You could feel their looks, you could always hear the double entendre in their words. But you could hardly care at that point.
You tried to drown it all out, focusing on your missions, on anything that would keep your mind occupied. But no matter how hard you worked, no matter how many curses you destroyed, the weight of Suguru’s absence clung to you like a second skin.
And then, one day, you saw him again.
It was purely by accident, something you couldn’t expect.
It had only been a mere few months after he had left.
It was on a mission in a remote village, where rumors of a powerful curse had been reported. You had gone in prepared for anything—or so you thought. What you weren’t prepared for was the sight of Geto Suguru standing in the center of the chaos, his presence commanding, his expression unreadable.
Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He looked the same, and yet so different. There was an edge to him now, a coldness that hadn’t been there before. A brutish layer that protected him from the world.
“Suguru.” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.
He turned to you, and for a split second, something flickered in his purple eyes—recognition, maybe even regret. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the calm detachment you had come to fear.
“You shouldn’t be here.” he said, his tone almost gentle.
“You don’t get to tell me where I should be. you shot back, your voice trembling. “Not after what you’ve done.” After what you’ve done to me.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t come here to fight you. Leave, and I’ll let you go.”
“Let me go?” you echoed, anger bubbling up inside you. “You don’t get to ‘let me go’ for shit, Suguru. You left. You broke everything, and now you’re standing here like none of it matters. I should kill you right now where you stand like the kill order says.”
“It does matter. Everything I do, it matters. To me, to the world I’m building.” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “More than you’ll ever understand. That’s why I’m doing this.”
“No, Suguru. You aren’t.” you said, stepping closer to him. “You’re doing this because you gave up. Because you let the worst parts of this world consume you. And now you’re trying to justify it by pretending. And I just….I have had enough of that excuse. Even when we fought, you used that excuse.”
He flinched at your words, the only crack in his otherwise unshakable composure. For a moment, you thought you had reached him. But then his expression hardened, and he took a step back from you.
“This isn’t about us, you know that.” he said. “It’s bigger than that. Bigger than you or me.”
“It was never just about us, you idiot.” you said, your voice breaking. “But we could have fought for something better—together. Instead, you threw it all away. You threw me away.”
He didn’t respond. He knew you were right. You could see it in your eyes. He tried to open his mouth, to say something. But instead, he turned and began to walk away, his figure fading into the distance once more.
You wanted to call out to him, to beg him to stay, to fight for the man you once knew. But you didn’t. Because deep down, you knew that man was gone. You would just be lying to yourself if you tried to pretend that it would work. 
And as you stood there, watching him disappear, you realized something: this was the last time you would let him break you. Geto Suguru had chosen his path, and now it was time for you to choose yours. You had to.
Even if it meant living with the weight of his absence for the rest of your life, you would carry it. Because that was what it meant to keep going. He wasn’t willing to live with you, for you. He wasn’t willing to do that. And so, you had to. You had to do it for you. To survive. 
══════════════════
HE FELT LIKE HE WAS GOING TO THROW UP. Geto Suguru stumbled into another bar, his head swimming with alcohol and frustration. The neon lights buzzed overhead, casting garish colors onto the crowd of strangers. 
It was a different place, but it might as well have been the same. Everywhere he went, it felt the same: loud, crowded, meaningless. He was chasing something he couldn’t name, knowing full well it wouldn’t fix the hollow ache inside him.
He spotted a girl at the bar, standing alone for just a moment, and something in him shifted. It wasn't an attraction—not really. It was desperation. I may suggest there’s somewhere I might know her, he thought, smirking to himself, just to get the ball to roll. 
He approached her with a feigned air of confidence, the kind that only comes from being far beyond tipsy. His words slurred slightly as he said something about a shared connection, a vague memory he knew didn’t exist. She tilted her head, intrigued despite herself.
Suguru leaned in closer, his voice low and coaxing. “Come on, before the moment’s gone.” 
It wasn’t like he was falling in love. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want her heart or her promises. He just wanted her to do him no good, to help him forget for a while. The girl gave him a look—soft, inviting, a subtle tilt of her lips that sent a rush of blood through his veins. 
It turned him on more than it should have. He didn’t care about her name, her life, or her story. It was the thrill of the chase, the electric jolt of fleeting desire. But before he could take another step, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. 
“She’s with me.”
Suguru turned to see a man standing there, tall and stern, his presence like a wall between them. The girl stepped back toward her boyfriend, her gaze dropping in awkward apology. Suguru laughed bitterly, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 
“Didn’t mean to intrude.” he said, though the sting of rejection burned.
He retreated to the edge of the dance floor, his drink in hand, watching the pulsing crowd around him. The music was deafening, the lights dizzying. The club was a house of fun—or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. People were laughing, dancing, losing themselves in the moment. But for Suguru, it was a prison. A trap.
The room spun, not from the alcohol but from the crushing realization that it wasn’t enough. This place wasn’t enough. These people weren’t enough. She’s not you. No, she isn’t. She never will be. No one else can ever be like you.
No matter how many drinks he had, no matter how many strangers he flirted with, the truth was inescapable. You and he weren’t together anymore. You had been the only thing that made sense in the chaos of his life, and now, without you, everything felt hollow.
The club blurred into a mess of sound and light, but all Suguru could feel was the emptiness gnawing at him. He was trapped in this cycle of meaningless nights, trying to fill the void you left behind. And deep down, he knew it would never work. Because no matter how hard he tried, no one could be you.
Nothing here was worth staying for.
So he comes outside, the cold greeting him.
But he could barely feel it stab through him.
The alcohol in his veins dulled everything except the gnawing ache in his chest. He stumbled down the street, the neon lights of the club fading behind him, replaced by the harsh glow of streetlights. His breath came out in uneven puffs, his mind swimming with thoughts he didn’t want to face.
His phone was a familiar weight in his pocket. He pulled it out, his fingers fumbling over the screen until he found your name. He was too drunk to be a coward now. He wasn’t going to let the cursor mock him this time. Not again.
Somehow, it was muscle memory—he didn’t even have to think about it. You were still in his contacts, still in his life in the smallest, cruelest way. If anything, he memorized your phone number. He knew it too well, he’d never forget it. He stared at your name for a long moment, the cursor blinking on the call button.
The voice in his head screamed at him to stop, to put the phone away and walk home.He didn’t need to do this. Not right now. Not ever. But the alcohol silenced that voice, replacing it with raw, unfiltered need. And seeing you tonight….what more did he need to be an excuse? He had to call you. Even if it was wrong, he had to. 
Before he could stop himself, he hit the button. The phone rang. Once, twice. With every passing second, his heart raced, his breathing shallow and unsteady. He almost hung up, almost let the moment slip away, but then you answered.
“Hello?” Your voice was soft, confused. You had changed phones. But you still used the same number. He knew that. But you probably, over time, had forgotten his phone number. He had expected it. He was after all, worth forgetting. “Who is this?”
It was late, and you hadn’t expected to hear from him—hadn’t heard from him in years. If anything, you never should expect anything from him. But the sound of you made his chest tighten, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He leaned against a lamppost, the phone pressed to his ear like it was his last lifeline.
“S’me again, babe.” he slurred finally, his voice thick with alcohol and emotion. “Suguru.”
There was a pause on your end, heavy and loaded. He could almost feel the weight of your hesitation, the way your breath hitched as you processed his call. It had been a long time. Ten long years. And now, just now, he called. 
“What do you want?” you asked, your tone cautious, guarded. It wasn’t the warmth he remembered, but it wasn’t cold either. It was somewhere in between, and that hurt more than anything.
“I don’t know, honestly.” he admitted, his voice breaking. He laughed bitterly, dragging a hand through his hair. “No, that’s a lie. I know. I just… And I just….I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop… missing you.”
“Suguru…” Your voice softened, but there was something else there too—sadness, maybe even pity. 
He hated it. He didn’t want your pity. You had known that even when you were younger. But he knew you couldn't help it. Still, just maybe, even just tonight, you’d drop it. You’d pretend, just as he was. He wanted you to tell him that you missed him too, that you still thought about him late at night, that he wasn’t the only one trapped in this endless spiral.
“I saw you tonight.” he blurted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “At that bar. Can’t remember the name, honestly. But you just….You looked so happy. Like you don’t even think about me anymore. Like I’m nothing.”
You sighed on the other end of the line, and it cut through him like a knife. “Suguru, it’s been ten years. What did you expect? I….I didn’t expect my life to be frozen, waiting for an impossibility that will never come.”
“I don’t know. I just…” he said again, his voice rising with frustration. “I thought maybe—maybe you’d feel the same. Like… like this thing between us isn’t over. Like it’s still there.”
“It’s not. And you…you know this.” you said quietly, and the finality in your tone made his knees buckle. He sank onto the curb, his head in his hands.
“It is for you, maybe…. he whispered, his voice cracking. “But not for me. It’s not over for me, and I don’t know how to let it be. Babe, I loved you. I still do. Maybe for the rest of my fucking life. But I…I don’t know what to do.”
The silence on your end was deafening, and he filled it with a broken laugh. You had the right to  your silence, you always will. After what he had done, even just last night? Why shouldn’t you just be quiet? Why shouldn’t you just hang up right now? 
But on the other side of the line, you were bitterly weeping in the quiet. Just taking in his words. Everything about your lives had been a tragedy, a tragedy that you could never forget. Both of you were living those past lives that can never come back. And you shouldn’t. You can’t. Not now, not ever.
“I’m drunk, you know?” he said, as if that excused everything, as if it would make you forget the raw, painful truth he’d just laid bare. “I shouldn’t have called. I just… I needed to hear your voice.”
“You need to go home, Suguru.” you said gently. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was what he expected.”You have daughters to go home too, remember?”
You’d always been kind, even when you were hurting. Even to people that hurt you. He’d always known that. But somehow, he wondered if that kindness was why you’d stayed in his contacts all these years—because part of you knew he might need it someday. 
Because he knows you’d be merciful to him, no matter what he’d done. No matter what he’d caused you. You’d pick up that phone and answer him. You’d let him hear your voice, like you used to do for hours and hours when you were younger.
“Yeah, you’re right.” he said, dragging himself to his feet. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll go home.”
But as he stumbled down the street, the phone still pressed to his ear, he couldn’t help but say one last thing. “You were the best thing I ever had, you know that? The only thing that ever made sense. In all of my life. And I love you. I’ll love you forever for it.”
He heard you inhale sharply, but you didn’t respond. Not for a while. You took a moment to let out a small sob, as though trying to hold yourself together. And Suguru could imagine it. How it shatters him. Ah, he had made you cry again like this.
“You were the best of my life, Suguru.” You finally say, almost the saddest he’s ever heard you talk. You were still mourning him, he supposed. “The love of my life. You always will be, Suguru.”
The line went quiet, and then, mercifully, you hung up.
Suguru stood there for a moment, staring at the screen, the word “Disconnected” flashing at him in a cruel, mocking rhythm. His hand tightened around the phone, his knuckles turning white as the fury bubbled beneath the surface. He nodded to himself.
He wanted to scream, to hurl the phone into the street and watch it shatter into irreparable pieces, as if that would somehow undo the splintering inside him. But instead, his anger collapsed inward, folding into a hollow resignation. 
He shoved the phone into his pocket with a rough, jerking motion, his breaths shallow and uneven. He reached for a cigarette with the same hand, fingers trembling as they pulled it free. His lighter almost instantly lit the edge into a fiery smoke.
The first drag burned, the bitter smoke searing his throat and filling his lungs. It didn’t matter. He needed the distraction, needed something to keep him grounded when it felt like the world had slipped from beneath his feet. He lit the next one before the first was even finished, the acrid haze curling around him like a suffocating ghost.
He kept walking. The city stretched out before him, a labyrinth of muted lights and shadows that felt more hostile than familiar. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional distant wail of a siren or the shuffle of a stray figure in the dark. Cold wind bit at his skin, cutting through the thin jacket he hadn’t bothered to zip up.
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
This was the last time you’ll see each other.
He was going to do his plan soon enough.
And you won’t see him again, not ever again.
212 notes · View notes
annaseidr · 1 day ago
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I don't think that we appreciate Viktor's plan enough. It is my firm belief that not only did he want to erase Hexcore and himself from existence, but also do some good in the process.
It was established that Hexcore found a way to corrupt the very water, spreading like a disease and infecting the environment. What this means is that by simply killing Viktor Hexcore problem wouldn't be resolved as wild rune remains and will lead to catastrophic consequences in the long run. Only Viktor himself could defeat Hexcore by consciously making the choice to destroy it. And Jayce was the only one who could make this outcome happen - he very well knew about it and the power he had, armed with Viktor's own feelings.
So the question remains: why did Jayce wait till the very last possible moment to show Viktor the power of love? He didn't try to earnestly talk to him even once, and always looked like a person set on a mission throughout. He also seemed to know the outcome of some encounters beforehand.
For instance, when Viktor is entering Hex vault? Jayce isn't even trying to attack Viktor here or be on a defensive, as if confident Viktor would do nothing and just walk by.
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And of course this scene, where Jayce kneels by his weapon and closes his eyes, resigned for what is about to happen.
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It is my opinion that Jayce had a pretty good understanding of the future events and his role in it, which leads me to believe that the severe escalation of Viktor's evolution, leading to the final fight, was necessary.
I honestly feel like animators did an amazing job showing how incredibly hard it was for Jayce to straight up crush Viktor time and time again, especially when knew about Viktor's feelings and realised himself that those were reciprocated. Can you imagine the pain Jayce must have felt? Killing the person he loved, warping them into something monstrous and even then, at his worst, Viktor was anything but indifferent to Jayce, and him alone.
But if it weren't for Jayce shooting Viktor the first time, Viktor wouldn't lose his faith in humanity(Jayce) and agree to move on with Singed's procedure. It was stated that his power was finite, so I would speculate that Jayce didn't even try to persuade Viktor because he knew that even if he succeeded either Savior Viktor didn't possess enough power to stop Hexcore, or he died in the process. Neither of those options resolve anything, since Hexcore remains in the world, therefore it was necessary to trigger Viktor's evolution to the Machine Herald form.
So why then Jace yet again isn't trying to convince Viktor in the Council room encounter afterwards? Viktor was even the one who came forward, wanting to talk and bearing news of the hostile intentions of the Noxian. But that's just it, if Viktor were to concede this second and destroy Hexcore, it would still leave completely disorganized Piltover and Zaun facing oppressing Noxian forces. It is only after Jayce rejects and "kills" him once again that Viktor lashes out and completes his evolution. And as a result, it gives a perfect common enemy to unite forces against, which finally brings Piltover and Zaun together.
We shouldn't forget that Viktor shared Jayce's dream to bring magic to people and improve lives. But they brought an impossible anomaly that was destroying the world and not saving it. So is it so far fetched to assume that after witnessing countless timelines and possibilities, knowing all the details and nuances, Viktor and Jayce wouldn't try and create the plan to maximize the good while destroying Hexcore at the same time?
I think this is exactly what Viktor and Jace would do..
221 notes · View notes
redkittyjellyfish · 2 days ago
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✎ ⋆⑅˚Stop standing in your own way of manifesting!
Manifest instantly!
⚠️rant incoming lmao
OKAY Y'ALL STOP WITH THE WAVERING RIGHT NOW. Like stop it. If you're thinking anything against you having your manifestation, you're wavering. S.T.O.P. like do you realise that you're living in your own world which you create? WHICH YOU CREATE. You literally do, no one cares if you like it or not. You're the creator of your reality. It's so simple yet you're making it hard. Only you can stand in your way. Do i have to hammer this in your head??? ONLY YOU DECIDE. So just decide that yes, you have your manifestation, yes you are in the reality of your dreams. It's not that hard. Instead of thinking "oh I wish I had this. Why isn't my manifestation coming? Do I need to do this technique? Wait lemme see a tarot reading. Oh let's do this 372621 days challenge 😍" ...like girl- JUST THINK OF HAVING IT!!??!! just think "oh I'm so glad I manifested this thing, it was so easy to manifest it. Why is it so easy? Why's everything instant? I can literally have everything I want. Now that I manifested this I'm gonna do this. Lemme just chill cuz everything is so easy." It's not only easy it feels good. If you think it's too much work then ...... Like? Okay then waiting around is so easy, right? Very easy to cry for your manifestation but to get it happily. Either you want it or you don't. It's on you. If you're god, what you say goes into your world, why can't you have it? There's no Devine timing cuz bruh you're literally god so who tf 's Devine timing are we waiting for now? You are your own Devine timing. If you decide to have it now you do.
we here to Slay 💋✨
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iiotic · 22 hours ago
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─── જ ‎` ‎𓂃 ‎ viktor sfw alphabet
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𖦹 ‎quick disclaimer: generally fluff, platonic/romantic mix, gn reader mentioned, kisses, not proff read
english is not my first language, so i apologize for any grammar mistakes.
masterlist | nav.
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A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Viktor isn't the most affectionate person that you'd meet. in fact he would be quite distant before getting to know you first, thinking that you don't deserve his time. However once he really gets to know you and start trusting you will he show his affection and appreciation through small acts of service.
B - Best friend (What are they like as a friend? How would the friendship start?)
Viktor is an amazing force to have on your team, however that might sound like. He's smart, loyal and trustworthy. I think that the friendship would develop a lot quicker if either A. you knew him since he was a child and still lived in zaun or B. you'd capture his attention and not the other way around.
as i said the friendship would start with Viktor being a little distant at first, but then he will start to appreciate you company and trust you a lot more. show him that you're trustworthy and really like him and he will warm up to you.
C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
In the beginning of the relationship Viktor was strictly against cuddles, it made him feel weak. However once you show him how good it feels, with him trusting you 100% he will change his opinion on cuddling. Viktor is slightly bony so hugging him wouldn't be the most comfortable thing, and yet it feels so warm and loving everytime you cuddle, you just can't complain!
D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
I think that he'd like to settle down, if it comes to s1 Viktor, however there might be a little controversy. Viktor spends time at his lab 24/7 so he wouldn't be at home with you all the time. The times he is at home he is way too tired, exhausted even to help you cook and clean.
However if there would be a situation where either you or Jayce convince him to take a weekly break, with you, at home. so that he could relax and do domestic things with you, he would 100% try to help you with chores. (if his leg wouldn't hurt so much this day)
E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
I don't think that Viktor would ever want to break up with their partner, he will fall in love with one person so hard that he'd want to live with them his entire life. would be truly heartbroken if you'd break up with him.
F - Fiancé (How to they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)
he would want to get married but wouldn't like to rush things, you know? he'd need to know all about you, whether it would be your weird quirks or just the specific shade of your favourite colour. about 4/6 years i think before he could propose, then the wedding in a year or three.
G - Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally?)
he always touches you as if you were a porcelain doll that would break under his fingers if he squeezed too hard. with you? he's the most gentle person in the entire piltover.
H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)
Viktor hugs are warm, gentle and loving. they always make you feel heard and the way he holds you speak volumes, the unspoken words that could come out of his mouth don't need to be spoken anymore. despite that hugs with Viktor aren't often, yet he likes hugging you.
I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
you'd probably have to say it first, he'd say it back to you. it really depends when you will start saying it, trust me he will say it back every single time.
J - Jealous (How jealous do they get? What are they like when they're jealous?)
Viktor doesn't like the feeling of jealousy, he doesn't want to feel this way. Viktor is very insecure about himself, his leg, his disease and there you were talking to another men who's bigger than him, that you could easily replace him with, it makes his blood boil.
yet, he trusts you. he trusts you to not do something stupid. he will stay quiet, occasionally glaring at the person but not trying to make himself known.
K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
he loves being kissed on his forehead and nose. something about them is so romantic, yet domestic that makes him melt every time. he loves to kiss you anywhere really, he doesn't have a preference.
when it comes to kissing Viktor on the mouth, making out with him the kisses would be slow, slightly sloppy yet romantic enough for the both of you.
L - Little Ones (How are they around children?)
he's neutral about kids, he wouldn't like to have any children himself yet for some reasons kids always seem to like him
M - Mornings (How are morning spent with them?)
the rare mornings where you wake up not to an cold empty side of the bed, but with your beloved Viktor are truly an moments worth remembering. If there's no rush, mornings are slow, cuddling in the bed with the sun trying to get it in the room with the curtains closed, a few kisses shared here and there. domestic things.
N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)
he sleeps a little stiff, cuddle him!! he's a little bony but its not usual for you to sleep together.
O - Openess (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they reveal things slowly over time or all at once?)
Viktor as i said before not once, not twice will be closed and distant at first yet once he starts trusting you more he might reveal a few of his traumas of his childhood, but you'd have to be deep into the relationship for that to happen. the moment would have to be right, almost fragile if you know what i mean.
P - Patience (How easily are they angered?)
he is not angered easily, quite the opposite actually. Viktor will be really patient with you and he'd like to recieve the same treatment from you in return. however if you'll insult his intelligence, work or make him feel bad because of his disability or diseases he will be mad. furious.
Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail or do they forget the minor things?)
when this man is in true love he will remember every single detail that you mention, even accidentally. i don't like when people say that he will forget about important events for you two because he is a workaholic, i dont think he would. he will know what your favourite subject was in middle school, your favourite shade of your favourite color (the very specific one), your favourite flower, what zodiac sign you are, whats your favourite type of cake, what's your favourite ice cream flavour, the food that makes you gag when you see it, your least favourite season. you name it and he will know it.
R - Remember (What's their favourite memory of the relationship?)
probably the moment he realized he loves you or your first kiss. i don't want to dwell on it, but i might make a one shot or a drabble based on it.
S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
i hate when people say that he would need to be protected because he can't do shit himself, if you agree with this might as well block me. maybe he is disabled but he is totally capable of standing up for himself. when it comes to you? he will be protective, you're one of the few good things that happened in his life.
T - Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts and everyday tasks?)
listen, this man is tired so he won't put much efford into everyday tasks or such. But! he puts a lot of efford into the gifts or dates he organises for you two, might be so nervous that he forgets to give you the gift but praise him and give him his own kind of present and he will be over the moon if you know what i mean.
U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
he is a workaholic, overworking himself. sometimes forgets to do basic tasks like eating, drinking etc.
V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
he doesn't care about how he looks, i mean he cares but not to the point of trying to dye his hair or something. dresses neatly, sometimes his hair is a little out of place but that's okay!!
W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
if it would be really early into the relationship than absolutely not, but other than that. yes, yes he would.
X - Xtra (A random head cannon for them)
specific, hates jam.
Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like in a partner, or in general?)
someone who wouldn't support his dreams and ideas. someone sho would show absolutely 0 interest in his rambling. someone generally who is always negative and does not see anything good about anything.
Z - Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)
snores, but like really quietly. wakes up late at night because of his nightmares sometimes.
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© 2024 iiotic. — do not steal, translate or repost any of my content onto any other platform
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yumeka-sxf · 2 days ago
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Spy x Family merch updates and manga hiatus
I wanted to post about some recent fandom news, starting with the good news: while I mentioned in my 2-year anniversary post that we've been in a dry spell lately as far as SxF content, we just recently got a bunch of new merch/designs! (mostly from various Jump Festa vendors) I'll start with my favorite of the new designs, from HMV's Jump Festa set - Forgers in winter outfits ❤️
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Next is the "French casual" set from Chara-Ani~ Bond's little red beret looks so cute!
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Another winter outfit set, from Animate. Gah, this one's so adorable, too 😭
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Next is merch from Ichiban Kuji. Not sure if it's for Jump Festa as well, but either way, I want the acrylics and the plate!
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And lastly, Ensky's merch for Jump Festa - Forgers baking cakes/cookies!
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Again for those who don't know, Jump Festa is a yearly event held in Japan in late December that's dedicated to Shonen Jump IPs. SxF will have its own panel with the four Forger voice actors in attendance. We've always gotten exclusive announcements and content at past Jump Festas, so fingers crossed it will be the same for this year! I'm gonna try my best to get some of this merch when it goes on sale in late December. And of course, if I'm able to make high quality scans of these new designs, I will post those as well!
Now onto the bad news, which most of you probably heard about already: the hiatus for the SxF manga has been extended to December 23rd. I believe this is the longest hiatus the series has had so far, and what makes this one concerning is not only that the date kept changing, but also the noticeable silence from Endo and other official outlets.
In the Japanese version of the manga, the last page of each new chapter typically notes the date the next chapter will come out. In the case of the most recent chapter, 107, it said it would release on November 25th, meaning Endo would be taking a break from the bi-monthly schedule, which isn't uncommon. But then, just a few days before the 25th, official English manga outlets like MangaPlus updated the release date to December 9th. It was disappointing since we had all been waiting longer than usual for the new chapter, but again, a second postponement wasn't too alarming...what was alarming though, was the third one that came just yesterday, only a few days after the last. People started noticing that official manga outlets had, again, changed the date for the next chapter to December 23rd this time.
The fandom got stirred up quite a bit when this happened, mostly out of concern for Endo's well being. What made me particularly worried was the fact that, while these hiatuses had been going on for the past month, Endo hadn't posted anything on his Twitter account, which is very unusual considering every month prior he's posted at least a few unique illustrations. Not only that, but the last thing he posted was this oddly cryptic image on October 19th, with text that says "Don't look for me." And he then deleted it soon after, which makes it even stranger.
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But thankfully, Shonen Jump must have noticed the pandemonium happening in the fandom, because just a couple hours later, they made this statement on the official Jump+ Twitter, apologizing for the delay and confirming that chapter 108 will indeed come out on December 23rd.
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This to me was good news, since their official statement about it makes it unlikely they'll change the date yet again. But some sort of explanation would have been nice, even a vague one. I'm not someone to spread rumors, but my own personal speculation (which could be totally wrong) is that there was some dispute between Endo and Jump. This is the only explanation I can think of as to why his Twitter would suddenly be barren for a month after he posted consistently for so long - my guess is that he has to get approval from Jump for all the illustrations he posts there. I don't know much about the inner workings of the manga industry, but I would assume he has some contractual obligations where he can't freely post stuff on social media without some sort of publisher's approval. It is possible he's just been too busy with Jump Festa and other things, but he's still posted at least a couple times a month even when he's sick or busy, so I don't think that's the main reason. Again, this is just my speculation that could be completely wrong. There's also the fact that they so quickly changed the release date to the 23rd, the day right after Jump Festa ends, which could indicate that Endo's been busy cooking something big to be announced there. Regardless, I'm happy we finally have a new chapter release date that's pretty set in stone now, though I won't feel totally better until we get clear acknowledgment that Endo is okay, either from himself on his own Twitter or somewhere else official.
Anyway, despite this setback, I'm relieved that SxF is still going strong with all the hype for Jump Festa and season 3. Between that and the new chapter right after, we'll be eating good this Christmas!
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brbsoulnomming · 15 hours ago
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Heart On Your Sleeve Part 4
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!
-----
“Freak's looking at you.”
There's a nudge to his shoulder that makes Steve jerk up, snapping out of the daze he'd been in.
“Huh?” he asks, looking at Aaron with his brow furrowed.
Aaron nods towards a spot halfway across the cafeteria, and Steve shifts his gaze over to see Munson standing on top of one of the tables, watching him expectantly.
Shit.
“Can you repeat that, if you're expecting a response?” Steve asks. “I drifted off somewhere around comparing the swimming pool to a goldfish bowl.”
He's being honest - it's still harder to concentrate, and he saves it for classes and practice and tends to zone out when he doesn't need to pay attention - but it makes the people who were clearly listening in laugh.
Steve catches Munson's gaze and rolls his eyes, giving him an apologetic little shrug.
He's not really sure how Munson takes it, because he just bemoans the attention span of the average jock and clomps down from the table, but no one's looking at either of them anymore, so he guesses it doesn't matter.
Steve's almost disappointed. Might be kind of nice to see what Munson's like when no one's watching them, he thinks.
Things are okay, with him and Nancy and Jonathan.
His gaze doesn't automatically seek Nancy out in a crowd or anything - mostly because he'd always been at her side, before, so it's not like it's even something he's used to - but he still catches her gaze sometimes, still smiles and nods and doesn't say anything.
They share study hall together.
He and Nancy shared it before, of course, and logically he knows that Jonathan had it at the same time they did, but now - now they all have it together.
After the first few times of him or Nancy awkwardly veering sharply away from their previously shared table when they'd seen the other one was already there - one day they just didn't.
They don't say much, but the three of them sit together, exchanging class notes and books. Sometimes Steve sees the pinch in Jonathan's eyes and gives him a bottle of water and some ibuprofen, and sometimes Jonathan sees him squinting too hard at something and copies the passage over in bigger handwriting, and Nancy checks over both of their notes, and it's -
The jagged black cut in his heart scabs, fades, scars. He'll always love her, he thinks, but sometimes he thinks if they can get over the hurt -
Sometimes he sits with the two of them and it's the closest he's ever felt to being understood. Sometimes he thinks it's what he wanted with Tommy and Carol, all those years ago.
It's a start.
He runs into Munson after school, sometimes.
They don't say anything either, but after practice gets out and after Munson is done with his theater club or whatever it is, they'll see each other.
Sometimes, if Munson's selling, Steve will linger.
He doesn't really think Billy's stupid enough to point fingers at Munson, and most people are too afraid of him to do anything, but it still makes him feel a little better to keep an eye on him.
It kind of feels like no one watches out for Eddie Munson, not the way he watches out for his fellow freaks.
“What?” Munson demands one day, sidling up to Steve and slamming his goodie box down on the bench. “What're you looking for here?”
Steve frowns at him. “I told you.”
Munson's brows furrow. “You were serious about that shit? You think you're protecting me?”
“Why not?” Steve challenges.
Munson's eyes go flat. “And what's this protection going to cost me?”
Steve thinks about being offended, for a moment, before he wonders if other people have tried to make deals before, keep the other assholes of Hawkins High away from him in exchange for free weed or something.
He softens. “I haven't asked you for anything.”
Munson scowls. “Yet,” he counters. “Whatever you're thinking, if you're trying to get me to owe you, it's not happening. Fuck off, man, I don't need protecting.”
His heart clenches as he hears an echo of Max saying the same thing, and before he knows it he's reached into his chest and pulled out his heart.
The scowl melts into confusion for a brief moment before it's back in full force. “I'm still not showing you mine,” Munson retorts.
“I still haven't asked,” Steve counters. “I don't want anything, man, all right? Just looking out in case Billy tries something.”
Or anyone else, now that Steve thinks of it, but even with his heart pumping in a steady truth, he's not sure Munson'll believe that.
“Just like that,” Munson says flatly, after a moment of watching Steve's heart. “And what do your knights of the round table think of this?”
Steve's nose scrunches. “What?”
“Your knights.” Munson waves his hand dismissively, but - his tone isn't mean, isn't condescending. “It's a King Arthur reference.”
It's nice, that he isn't being shitty about Steve not understanding something.
“Right. So that makes me King Arthur, and you're - what was it again, the court jester?” Steve asks, giving him a little smile to show he's teasing.
“If we're doing King Arthur, I'm going with Merlin,” Eddie says.
“The old guy with the beard and pointy hat?” Steve asks.
Eddie puts his hands on his hips, fluttering his eyelashes. “You think I couldn't pull it off?”
Steve plays along, making a show of looking him up and down. “You know what, sure, you've got the right look for gray haired old man.”
“Asshole,” Eddie tells him, but he doesn't sound pissed anymore. “You know you're cutting into my profits, right? People see you lingering and they're less likely to come buy.”
Steve's brows furrow. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah, really. Only the desperate want to make illicit purchases under the watchful eye of Hawkins High's once and future king.”
Steve's quiet for a moment. “I'll stand farther away, make myself look busy.”
Eddie glowers. “Seriously? You're not giving this up?”
Honestly - Steve probably should. But he's stubborn, and Eddie throwing a fit about it kind of just makes him want to do it more.
“Who looks out for you?” he asks instead of answering.
Eddie looks thrown. “What?”
“That's why you do it, right? Why you started walking on tables and making yourself a target. It takes attention off of the guys younger than you.” Steve's trying to make a point, so he slides right over the fact that they both know everyone's younger than Eddie - this is his second senior year, after all. “So everyone watches you.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, a little bit of an edge back in his voice. “You watch me, Harrington?”
“No,” Steve replies, blunt and honest. “Not really. Not before.”
“Not before Billy Hargrove tried to blame me for bashing your head in with his fists?” Eddie asks.
“He smashed a plate over it, actually,” Steve shoots back. “But yeah, something like that.”
Steve's heart gives an erratic beat. It wasn't a lie, but apparently it wasn't enough of the truth, either. Eddie gives him a pointed look.
“There's these kids I babysit,” Steve says, slow and careful. “They're into the same things you are. They're gonna be in high school next year, and I won't be here. Neither will you, but it just made me think - I'd want someone like you looking out for them.”
Eddie watches his heart for a moment.
“What are their names?” he asks. “Yeah, I won't be here, but Jeff will be. I can tell him to look out for them.”
Relief swoops through Steve, and he doesn't even care when Eddie gives him a funny look after he includes Mike and Will along with Dustin, Lucas, and Max.
He won't admit it, but it helps.
The next day, Eddie sits next to him at lunch.
He makes a big deal of it, hamming it up as he hops over the bench and plops down, pulling out a sandwich and some chips and flattening out his lunch bag to make a plate for them.
Steve's sitting with the swim team today, and he watches some of the guys side eye Eddie like they're not sure what the joke is and who the punchline is supposed to be. He watches some of them look at him with disgust, too, and those he carefully files away to keep an eye on later.
“My liege!” Eddie announces cheerfully. “How fair you and your knights of the round table on this fine afternoon?”
“Your king is doing just fine, as long as you keep your boots on the ground and away from the top of the lunch table,” Steve retorts.
“Is this like when Carol used to call her and Tommy Duke and Duchess?” Jacob asks.
“Are we doing that, are we knights now?” Dorian asks, his eyes lighting up a little.
Dorian gets straight A's, Steve remembers that. English is his best class.
“Sure, why not?” Steve says, shrugging carelessly, even as he shoots a smile at Dorian. “You can be Sir Galahad.”
Michael groans. “Don't encourage him, this is stupid.”
Tanner snorts. “From the guy who calls his girlfriend princess.”
Michael flushes. “Shut up! It's just so Ashley will stop whining.”
“Uh-huh.” Jacob elbows him. “We've all heard you at Tina's parties pledging to be her knight in shining armor.”
They have, apparently, completely forgotten Eddie's existence as they fall back to ribbing on each other.
Steve turns to him, finding him watching the table with a narrow, calculating gaze.
“Eat your lunch,” Steve says. “My knights don't give a shit.”
These ones, anyway, and as long as Steve's there, but he's not going to say that.
They both know it.
Still, Eddie keeps it up. It's not every day, or every other day, or in any kind of recognizable pattern, but he'll plop himself down next to Steve's side like he belongs there whenever he feels like it.
Steve largely treats it like he doesn't give a shit, and most of the people he tends to sit with follow suit, if a couple of them can't seem to resist making snide little comments.
It's always the ones who make snide comments to everyone, the kind of assholes that Steve can't wait to get away from, so he mostly ignores it.
The sixth or seventh time it happens, Steve drops his apple on Eddie's folded over lunch bag.
Eddie stares at him.
“What?” Steve asks. “You're going to get scurvy if you keep eating nothing but bologna and Doritos for lunch.”
Eddie snorts. “I look like an eighteenth century pirate captain?”
Steve makes a show of looking him up and down again. “You look like something,” he replies.
Completely unexpectedly, Eddie flushes a little, picking up the apple and taking a comically large bite out of it.
Steve grins.
Steve's at swimming practice after school when Nancy and Jonathan show up.
The second he sees them hovering near the back door, he hauls himself up out of the pool, barely pausing to grab a towel on the way.
“What's happened?” he asks immediately, low and quick.
Jonathan's expression is a mess of worry, like he's trying not to panic, as he says, “I can't find Will.”
“We're supposed to pick him and Mike up from the AV club,” Nancy cuts in. “But they're not there, and they're not at any of their usual places at school.”
“Or at home, or anyone else's place, or the arcade,” Jonathan adds.
Steve's chest tightens. It's stupid, kids go off to places they're not supposed to be all the time - especially these kids - but given their track record, that doesn't mean they're not in trouble. “Let me grab my stuff, I'll be right there.”
Practice is almost done, anyway.
He shrugs into his windbreaker and grabs his backpack, darting out the door to follow them. He's already digging around in the backpack to pull out the walkie talkie Dustin gave him by the time he gets to them.
“Little shit better answer,” Steve grumbles, thumbing it on. “Dustin, you there?”
There's a tense pause as they wait.
“Dustin?” Steve tries again.
Nothing.
Jonathan's face goes a little paler, and Nancy's jaw clenches.
“Hey asshole, you're the one who made me carry this around, the least you could do is respond,” Steve bitches.
This time, the walkie flares to life.
“You're supposed to say over when you're done talking, Steve!” Dustin bitches back. “Otherwise I won't know it's my turn! Over.”
“Are you serious right now? It wasn't obvious enough?” Steve asks - then, because he wouldn't put it past Dustin to be a little shit about it, and he knows Jonathan is beyond worried - “Is Will with you? Over.”
“Yeah, he's right here. Why?” Dustin asks. “Over.”
Jonathan sags with relief.
“Was he maybe supposed to meet his brother somewhere?” Steve prompts. “Over.”
Whatever Dustin had been going to say in response to that is drowned out by a chorus of “Oh shit!” and “You said you were keeping track of the time!” and “Don't tell Mom, we'll be right there!”
Nancy rolls her eyes, taking the walkie from him. “Five minutes,” she says into it. “Or we're leaving without you and you can bike home. Over and out.”
Steve's pretty sure he and Jonathan both know that she doesn't mean that, but the kids don't know it, so he's equally sure that'll light a fire under their asses.
“Hey, Dustin, do you and Lucas need a ride home?” he asks once he gets the walkie back.
“And Max?” Dustin asks. “Over.”
“And Max,” Steve agrees, assuming that's a yes. “I'll meet you out front of the high school. Over.”
He shoves the walkie back in his bag, looking up to exchange a relieved look with Nancy and Jonathan.
“See you tomorrow?” Nancy asks, though Steve gets the feeling it's more to fill the silence that's gone a little awkward, now that the potential danger's passed.
“Sure,” Steve says.
“Thanks,” Jonathan tells him, eyes fixed somewhere at his left cheekbone like he's not entirely sure where to look.
“Any time.” It comes out too flippant, though, and Steve makes a face at himself as Jonathan turns to leave.
“Hey.” Steve reaches out, fingers curled loosely around Jonathan's wrist. “I mean it, okay? Any time.”
This time, Jonathan's eyes lock on his. After a moment, Jonathan's cheeks go a little pink, and then he nods before he follows Nancy down the hall.
Steve watches them for a moment or two, then drops his backpack down on a bench a little harder than he probably should, digging around for his sweatpants.
“I don't get it.”
Steve looks up as he's halfway through putting his pants on to see Eddie sidling up next to him in the hall.
“Don't get what?” Steve asks.
Eddie nods towards where Nancy and Jonathan just were. “The three of you.”
Steve shrugs. “We're friends, not a lot to get.”
He goes back to fighting with his sweatpants, wishing he'd dried off a little more before pulling them on over his speedo. They keep sticking to his thighs.
Eddie's gone quiet, though, and when Steve glances back up, he sees Eddie staring at him.
Steve cocks one eyebrow. “What?”
Eddie flushes, looking away. “Didn't figure you'd be so comfortable with the girl who broke your heart and the guy who stole her away, is all. Or hey, maybe she's putting out for both of you, maybe Byers is-”
“Hey,” Steve cuts in, tone sharp and firm in a way he hasn't had to do since he stopped hanging out with Tommy and didn't have to hold him back when he'd gone too far anymore.
But Eddie isn't like Tommy. Maybe he doesn't know Eddie all that well, but Steve gets the feeling he only lashes out when he's feeling cornered.
“Don't be a dick, man,” Steve says, voice softening a little. “They haven't done anything to you.”
Eddie looks back at him, a little surprised, before his expression goes contrite. “You're right,” he admits, easy as anything. “Sorry. It's good that you’re friends with your ex.”
Steve's sort of friends with most of his exes, but that's not the same. None of them were ever Nancy. “I do better as part of a trio,” he says instead of anything else, because it's kind of true.
Then, because he doesn't actually want to field any questions about that -
“Besides,” Steve adds. “If you've heard the rumors, you'd know that's not the kind of threesome I'm into.”
Eddie snorts inelegantly, like he's trying to cover up a laugh. “You telling me I should be putting stock in all the rumors I hear about you, Stevie?”
“Of course not. But the ones about my skills in the bedroom?” he shoots back. “Every word is truth.”
It's not, really. Or, well - not the one about the threesomes. Steve doesn't think sitting between two girls on the couch at a house party and going back and forth between kissing them counts as a threesome.
But it'd never been a hardship to combat that particular rumor, not when it meant he could take his time reassuring the girl he was with that no, he didn't want anyone else there, when he could spend a while making sure she felt important, felt good.
He thinks he'd kind of like spending some time making Eddie feel important.
Steve has no idea what the hell he's supposed to do with thoughts like that.
But he does know the way Eddie's eyes have lingered over his thighs and the line of his stomach and chest peeking out from his open windbreaker, and he-
“You want to find out which rumors are true, you just let me know,” he hears himself say.
Eddie doesn't bite, rolling his eyes and shoving him before he heads off, but Steve isn't deterred.
He hadn't missed the way Eddie's hand had lingered, either.
Steve and Eddie have free period together.
Well. Steve has a free period, at least. He's honestly not sure Eddie isn't just ditching, but it doesn't really matter.
They hang out together anyway.
They don't really say much, just - exist in the same space. Sometimes in the smoking area, sometimes at the track, sometimes at the picnic table, sometimes somewhere else in the woods.
They sit too close together when they're in the woods, shoulders or knees always touching.
A few times, Steve takes out his heart, lets himself breathe.
Eddie always glares at it, mutters, “I'm still not showing you mine, Harrington.”
Steve shrugs, tells him he still hasn't asked, and that's it.
Steve'll miss it once he graduates.
He graduates, and doesn't go to college, doesn't see Nancy or Jonathan or Eddie much anymore, and it's - it's fine.
He still hangs out with the kids, starts putting in job applications, and it's fine.
He's fine.
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This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!
Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt
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rootspiral · 1 day ago
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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 5 part 2
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2])
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I was so looking forward to brighten this particular scene, it's the darkest yet and it's such a beautiful one it's a pity to miss even one detail
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oh no lilia stop being so cute????
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have you ever seen jen with a bigger smile? and she's quiet as usual, it's almost like more than the ride she's enjoying how much fun her friends are having. especially lilia, those two have been forming a bond that is equal parts bickering and a growing respect
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I'm just glad alice had this moment of pure unadulterated joy before it came all crashing down
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agatha is very, very quiet. despite never letting herself feel anything freely, she takes a moment to close her eyes and enjoy the beauty of it all
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she looks back at rio, so sensual and confident
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how can kathryn hahn convey so much with so little time? her breath catches at her sight. and then worry and fear take hold and she gives the tiniest shake of her head, as if she's forbidding herself to entertain any kind of thought about rio. she looks away. the blood moon behind her spells disaster
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meanwhile billy is that kid who has the time of his life hanging out with the teachers during a field trip
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I want to personally thank aubrey plaza for every acting choice she made as rio, but ESPECIALLY for this witchy laugh
(I just brightened the salem seven witch vomiting bees and it's actually pretty impressive! but I don't want to trigger any insect haters around here) (I love insects though so please talk to me about spiders if you want)
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they couldn't get a good look at the cabin before rushing in and I couldn't either until now, do we know if it's something from Agatha's past? did she use to live there?
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I'm salty that alice had to die in these stupid clothes
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So. I think this trial is the most fucked up and humiliating yet. Billy knew nothing about jen except superficial facts, so he put her in a scenario that matched her work aesthetic, more of a personal insult than a wake up call (compare it with the broom lilia just made for her: roots and flowers, something that speaks about jen's work, beliefs and traditions.)
Alice's trial was entirely based on lorna, we know billy is a big fan so he ran with that concept creating something that really shook alice, and not in a good way. she was forced to sit in her dead mom's house and wear her clothes for god's sake. she took it as the Road wanting to teach her a lesson, when it was just a teenager with the grace and subtlety of a newborn puppy.
Now, agatha. billy doesn't know a thing about her because she's private to the point of paranoia. he has gathered that there's something in her past about a dead child and that's probably what makes her grumpy, so he... tried to make her talk to nicky. with a fuking oujia board. Despite having had his share of shock and trauma billy inevitably has a kid's point of view re: death, and even more so because he's functionally immortal. death is something that happens to other people, or far far away in the future. he thinks he's giving agatha much needed therapy, when he actually put a grown woman in child's clothes and made her relive her traumas for everyone to see.
btw I'm not in any way saying that the trials are bad writing. they are brilliant writing. they're just tragic and fucked up behind the funny exterior, just like agatha herself. sorry for the rant.
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I mean I wouldn't be opposed to that. we could put billy back in a closet for a little while and get down and dirty with it. and ooh there's a little leaf on rio's shirt, I hadn't noticed it!
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jen's retainer always SENDS me
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agatha's face when she realizes it's her trial
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agatha is irrevocably, eternally linked with death in all its forms
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looks like rio is playing along and setting the scene, but she's also doing something more subtle that only agatha understands: she's provoking her, and it's becoming more personal and hurtful. she's testing and punishing more than she used to. she is growing angrier.
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agatha wants to tell rio to fuck off but knows she deserves it. agatha is NOT happy to be in this trial for reasons that go beyond what everyone present (except rio) assumes, but she'll bite the inside of her cheeks until they bleed before she shows any of it
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the way he says it with a straight face too (again, NO PUN INTENDED. forgive me joe, I would never)
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oh great alice has only thirty minutes to live
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everyone looks worried and on their guard, rio has her whole knife out, playing along. agatha is STILL trying to look cool and casual, it's painful to watch. girl is panicking, hard
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meanwhile billy is always bringing a whole different energy, he's playing and having fun! think back to the second episode when they met lilia and then jen and alice for the first time. billy had no clue about the tension, the fear and hate between them and agatha. right now he's still more excited than scared. he's about to have a rude awakening.
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do not taunt the spirits, AGATHA.
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lmaooo. this motherfucker.
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another moment when billy sounds chillingly cruel. being jigsaw without realizing it
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I'm not pointing it out every time but whenever agatha does this with her arms she's really, really really nervous
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what does agatha do when she's scared or overwhelmed? she puts on a show. like clockwork. and rio has already guessed what's about to happen
I really want to continue this so there will be more later today, stay tuned!
go to episode 5 part 3
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marauders-bs · 1 day ago
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do-do-do-do-do i am gonna make an alt ending for this >:) it will be sadder be prepared
"Go away," Regulus said, head bent over his book so his curls cover his writing.
"I want to know why that happened."
Fucking James Potter. Of course it's Potter.
"It didn't," Regulus said, dipping his quill in ink. "That didn't happen, Potter. It was a reflex."
"It was a reflex to kiss me back?"
"That's what I said," Regulus muttered, thinking of the curses his friends knew for when they figured this out and almost smiling at what Potter had coming to him.
Potter rolled his eyes. "What, so you stick your tongue in people's mouths anytime they kiss you? Who are you kissing, anyways?"
"Barty gives pretty good tongue," Regulus said casually, enjoying the way Potter's eyes widened.
"Why are you kissing your friends?" Potter asked, very clearly trying to play nonchalant.
Regulus looked up, putting as much Black sarcasm into his face as he could physically muster. "Bat's kissed all of us. We were high, anyways. He's got-"
James sat forward, leaning over towards Regulus. "Oh? Who's he got now?"
"If I told you," Regulus said, closing his notebook, "We'd both wake up in May in the States. Bat doesn't fuck around."
"How would he know?"
Regulus raised an eyebrow in Potter's direction. "He knows."
"Your friends are so strange," James says. "I'm almost glad I don't know them."
Regulus shook his head, picking up his quill and fishing Advanced Potion Making out of his bag. He'd stolen the copy from Sirius, who hadn't even noticed it was missing yet.
"If I were one of your friends," Potter asked, clearly unable to stand the silence, "Would Crouch have kissed me?"
"Probably," Regulus answered. "But we're not friends, so it doesn't matter."
"You don't think we could ever be friends?"
"No," Regulus answered, trying very hard not to think of James's hair or his shoulders, or the way his arms were now folded on Regulus's shoulder.
"That's good, I think," James whispered, bringing his head to rest on his hands, which was still on Regulus's shoulder. They were eye-to-eye now.
Regulus could've shoved him off. It was probably what James was expecting.
He didn't.
"Why?"
Regulus turned his head and found James's face mere inches from his. He couldn't help but be reminded of the day before, when James had surged forward out of almost nowhere and kissed him.
"Friendship," James whispered, eyes dropping to Regulus's lips and back up again. "That's not exactly what I want from you."
Regulus's hands felt useless. He wished he could do something with them.
He remembered yesterday, when James had kissed him. Sure, Regulus had kissed him back and fled, but-
In the moment.
This time, it was Regulus who leaned forward. He let his eyes flicker closed in their little corner of the library Regulus had casted a concealment charm over once James had arrived.
He leaned back, just a little, when Jame was unresponsive.
"Why'd you stop," James murmured, smiling a little as he drew Regulus by his neck, and Regulus had no idea how his hands had ended up there but they were warm, and-
Sweet Salazar, James was warm. He was like a little sunbeam personified. Regulus wormed his hands to James's back, doing his best to turn his shoulders so they could fully face each other.
They broke away only to kiss again, and Regulus had to open his eyes.
James was smiling, yes, Regulus could feel that, but his eyes were closed and he looked relaxed. Regulus hadn't realized either of them weren't relaxed until they both were.
"Was that a reflex, too?" James murmured against Regulus's lips.
"Oh, fuck you," Regulus replied, leaning in again. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips.
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madhatterbri · 2 days ago
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Protector | D.P.
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Summary: So what that maybe Y/N has been getting intimidated by Gunther and Ludwig and Damian handled business?
Author's Note: I still don't care about this GIF, but if I did, this is what the fic would look like.
Damian Priest Masterlist
WWE Masterlist
Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @mrsarcherofinfamy @terrortwinunicorn @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @hotwheels1108 @new-zealand-chic @magicalbuttertarts @eringobragh420 @missbmc94 @surdelcielo
As always, requests are open! Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. ❤️
The first time Y/N noticed something was amiss happened a few weeks ago on RAW.
She was in catering to get some food for her boss, Adam Pearce. As his assistant, Y/N was expected to run around whenever he wanted or needed something.
After getting some of his favorites, the young assistant hurried to the door to bring him back his food. The doorway was blocked by none other than Gunther.
"Excuse me," she whispered. He was currently feuding with her boyfriend, Damian. When he didn't move, she spoke up louder. "I said excuse me!"
Some of the wrestlers in the room looked up. Gunther glared at her yet stepped aside. His lackey Ludwig followed. Both men looked down at her as she scurried off to Mr. Pearce.
Their intimidation didn't stop there. Week after week, they came up with new ways to make her scared. Each week, they worked.
The week after that, they bumped into her. Gunther and Ludwig were on either side of her. She dropped her clipboard and pen to the floor. There was no one else in the area at the time to witness it. Annoyed, she chalked it up to none of the three paying attention.
After that incident, she started to travel around the arena with anyone else. Her boss seemed to like how she hovered around him now. Before, he would have to call her and search for her. Now, it was like having a second shadow.
The men would simply stare her down when they couldn't do anything. Their gaze was intense. The hairs on the back of her neck would stand at attention. She didn't know what she did to them, but she would certainly find out.
Y/N couldn't find anyone to stick with. Everyone was too busy getting ready for RAW, leaving her to fend for herself. She turned a corner while looking for Seth Rollins and stopped. Ludwig stood before her, looking as stoic as ever. When she turned around, Gunther was waiting for her. The men stepped towards her. She backed into the wall behind her.
"What do you two want?" She hissed. Her tone sounded a lot more menacing than the fear she had inside.
Ludwig raised an eyebrow in shock. "Little missy finally has a backbone. No more hiding,"
"Damian is going to wipe the floor with the two of you at Survivor Series," she threatened.
Gunther laughed. "Quite the lovely boyfriend you got there, but he may not even make it to Survivor Series,"
Y/N moved to get away from him. Gunther put up his arm against the wall. With nowhere to turn, she stared up at Gunther. Tears filled her eyes. "I will just tell Damian,"
"Are you sure you want to make that decision? I wouldn't," Gunther spoke. A chill ran down the back of her spine.
"Fine, so he will just beat your ass at Survivor Series. It doesn't matter to me,"
Gunther smiled. "If he even makes it to then,"
He lowered his hand, allowing her to be free. She didn't stick around. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she rushed to the nearest bathroom. Before she could make it, Damian stopped her.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," he paused when he saw her face. She cupped her cheek and wiped away a tear. "Who hurt you?"
Y/N wanted to tell him more than anything. She was afraid of what would happen to him if she did. Feeling hopeless, she lashed out at him. "Just leave me alone,"
Damian dropped his hand in shock. More fresh tears fell down her face. She pushed open the door and disappeared inside. The concerned boyfriend swore he heard sobs. When he looked down the hallway, he saw Gunther and Ludwig walking away and laughing. His blood boiled.
Damian waited for the perfect moment. He was signing autographs and thinking of a moment to strike Gunther and Ludwig. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to wait long.
Gunther snuck up behind him as he was signing his name. Still fueled by the fury of seeing her cry, a brief struggle broke out. Damian had Gunther laid out on the floor right in front of him.
"Let me tell you a little something, pendejo. You talk or look at my girl one more time, and we won't be waiting until Survivor Series. You got that?"
Damian didn't bother waiting for an answer. He patted his chest and walked away to find Y/N.
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ancientwastedlores · 2 days ago
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Don't Be Kind To It (Homelander x Reader)
The overwhelming amount of love Homelander Only Breaks His Favorite Toys got really hit me in the feels. Some of you asked for a part II, and much like Homelander, I aim to please (and love the praise).
[tags: @helreyy @discowizard88 @slasherho]
This one is lightly inspired by Hozier's "It Will Come Back," and we get a glimpse into Homelander's perspective as well.
Hope you enjoy it! <3
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Don't Be Kind To It
Don't let it in with no intention to keep it Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it
You're a smart cookie. And you know Homelander better than he knows himself. You expect him to stalk you, watch you from rooftops, send you gifts that have an agenda, and force Vought's Crime Analytics department to keep an eye on you.
So, you wait. You listen for the telltale whoosh of air, the crackle of energy that signals his arrival. Every gust of wind sends your heart hammering; every creak of the floorboards makes your blood run cold. You scan the skyline for a flash of red and blue, bracing yourself for the inevitable.
At first, you think he’s just toying with you, letting you stew in paranoia. You brace for him to materialize at the most inconvenient moment, smug and victorious. Yet days turn into weeks, and his absence becomes undeniable. You tell yourself he’s good at what he does—too good—but the truth begins to sink in: it’s not just you. Nobody has seen him.
No staged rescues. No public appearances. Not even a leaked video of him losing his temper. Ashley let slip that his tracking chip went dead 3 days ago. Vought is scrambling to spin the story - a secret overseas mission? A long-deserved vacation?
But the inner circle is panicking. The people who know him best—the ones who know what he’s capable of—are terrified.
Where the fuck is Homelander?
But... another thought creeps in, invasive and unwelcome, like a splinter under your skin.
Isn't he going to fight for me?
The selfishness of it makes you recoil, but it’s there, undeniable and raw. After everything, after all the suffocating control and emotional whiplash, you almost wanted him to stay obsessed with you. To prove that you still mattered to him. To prove that you had power over the most powerful man alive.
The realization is a gut punch. Maybe you’re not as different from him as you thought. Maybe his possessiveness, his need for control, rubbed off on you more than you care to admit. Maybe you’ve become just as twisted as him, longing for attention—even the toxic kind—because it’s better than silence.
And now, silence is all there is.
It wraps around you like a noose, tightening with every passing day. His absence presses on your chest, cutting off your circulation, making it hard to breathe. You tell yourself it’s relief—that this is what you wanted—but the emptiness feels like punishment. You try to convince yourself he’s sulking, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to make you regret leaving him.
But the longer it stretches on, the more it begins to feel permanent.
You could care less what this means for Vought. All the company seems to care about is who will lead the Seven now. Should they try to replace Homelander or lean into the “team-first” narrative Ashley has been pushing? PR scrambles to keep the media from asking too many questions, trotting out The Deep and Black Noir to cover for him.
But the public isn’t buying it.
Those who love him are afraid he is hurt. Those who hate him post conspiracy theories about Homelander going rogue - which feels way more accurate.
Either way, if Homelander doesn’t want to be found, no one can find him.
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Your days stretch out unfathomably long. You expected to feel free, to savor the clean air and the wide-open spaces of a world without him. Instead, his absence is louder than his presence ever was.
When he was there, he consumed everything: every thought, every moment, every inch of your life. You hated it, resented it, but at least you understood it. His attention, no matter how suffocating, meant you mattered.
But now there’s nothing.
The silence echoes like a scream, reverberating through every corner of your mind. Every sleepless night, every anxious thought loops back to him. Where is he? What is he doing? Is he coming back?
You start to wonder if this is how he wanted it—to leave you drowning in uncertainty, gasping for closure you’ll never get. Maybe this is his ultimate revenge.
Or maybe…
Maybe he’s broken in ways even you can’t fix.
You almost wish for his cruelty, for the familiar push-and-pull of his twisted affection. Because this? This void where he once loomed so large?
It feels like dying.
No. You have to seek him out. You can't quite tell if it's for his sake or yours... you can figure that out later.
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Monster's Lament
The room is dark, lit only by the faint glow of the moon filtering through cracked blinds. Dust floats in the air, settling over the relics of a forgotten time—old Vought propaganda posters peeling from the walls, a long-dead television covered in grime. It’s quiet here, too quiet, save for the clock that's miraculously still ticking.
Homelander sits slumped in a battered chair, his suit grimy, his cape discarded on the floor in a crumpled heap. His head is in his hands, his golden locks disheveled, the picture of a god brought low.
“You warned her,” a voice says, syrupy sweet.
Homelander doesn’t look up, doesn’t need to—he knows where it’s coming from.
The mirror.
He lifts his gaze reluctantly, and there it is: his own reflection staring back at him, but not quite right. The eyes burn brighter, the teeth are sharper, the smile is crueler. It leans forward as if trying to crawl out of the glass.
"You warned her," it sings again. "But did she listeeeen." "Not now, okay?" Homelander pleads.
The face in the mirror laughs. "Jesus fucking Christ, this is so pathetic. What are you waiting for, for her to come find you? For her to need you?" "She does need me." “Oh, sure. Because you gave her everything. The flying, the fancy dinners, the cape-flipping bullshit. But what did she give you?” It leans closer, its grin widening. “Pity. That’s what. You wanted love, and all you ever got was pity.”
“That’s not true,” Homelander growls, but his voice wavers.
“Isn’t it?” The reflection tilts its head, almost playfully. “She stayed because she felt sorry for you. The broken little boy in the big man’s body. She didn’t love you, not really. She loved the idea of fixing you. And when she couldn’t—”
“Shut up!” Homelander’s voice cracks as he lurches to his feet, his hands trembling.
The reflection’s grin doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows wider. “What’s the matter, Johnny? Don’t like the truth?”
He stands frozen, a deer in headlights. He never learned to deal with complex emotions, and even after all this time, it wraps around him like a boa constrictor, cutting off his air supply and rooting him to the ground.
And the reflection starts to sing. “Don’t feed me, honey. Don’t be kind to me.”
The lyrics echo around Homelander, twisting like a blade.
"Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul Honey, make this easy Leave it to the land, this is what it knows."
"STOP IT" Homelander cries.
"Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back"
"You're supposed to be on MY side." Homelander says. "I am. This is what that looks like," It replies.
Homelander's stares ahead, his fists clenched, his jaw tights, his eyes ready to burn holes into the mirror. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating.
Homelander closes his eyes, but her face is there, burned into his eyelids. The way she looked at him—like he was more than the sum of his power, more than the monster everyone else saw. He hates her for it. He loves her for it.
“Why did you leave?” he whispers to himself.
The reflection’s smile vanishes. For a moment, it almost looks… pitying.
“Because you allowed it,” it says simply.
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
"She fed you ONCE. And you kept going to her like a stray fucking dog. You took her mercy and her love and you became weak. Nobody wants weakness, Johnny." It leans forward, smiling, canines gleaming, "Whatcha gonna do about it?"
Homelander looks at the ground. Shame and desperation wash over him, and he blinks tears back.
"You're going to claim her. And you'll make sure she never, ever leaves again. Right?"
Homelander doesn't look up from the floor.
It gets irritated. "Right?"
Silence.
It rolls its eyes. "Do you want ME to do it?"
Homelander looks up, hope obvious in his bright blue eyes.
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You don’t intend to start looking for him. It just… happens.
It begins with small, idle habits—clicking on articles about Vought’s latest scandals, scrolling through old news coverage, and watching grainy footage of staged rescues from years past. Your eyes search for him automatically, for that familiar streak of red and blue cutting through the chaos.
Then it escalates.
You start wandering the city at night, tracing the paths he once flew you along. You visit the rooftops where he used to land with a flourish, his cape billowing dramatically in the wind. You linger outside the exclusive restaurants where he once paraded you like a trophy, his smile razor-sharp as he soaked in the envy of the other diners.
But it’s not just the glamorous places.
You walk down seedy alleys and explore dark corners—the forgotten places he claimed as private retreats. The places where he could let his guard down, where the mask of America’s golden boy slipped.
It feels grotesque, this act of seeking him out. Like you’re willingly feeding the monster you swore you’d escape. You hate yourself for it, for the way your heart leaps at the thought of seeing him again, even if it’s just to tell him to his face that you’re done.
But you can’t stop.
You start putting yourself in danger—not consciously, but recklessly enough that it’s obvious even to you. Walking alone through neighborhoods that turn predatory after dark. Taking late-night trains without any plan or destination. Part of you hopes he’ll swoop in, cape flaring, to save you in one of his dramatic displays of power.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, one night, it’s Black Noir who finds you.
The alley is suffocatingly narrow, the air heavy with the mingling stench of rotting garbage and damp asphalt. The dim, flickering streetlight overhead barely illuminates the passage as two men circle you like predators. Their laughter is low and ugly, their shadows long and distorted against the brick walls.
You freeze, your breath caught somewhere between a scream and a sob, as one of them lunges toward you. You pray even now that he'll swoop in from somewhere.
And then he’s there.
Black Noir steps from the shadows like death itself. His arrival is so silent, so abrupt, that the men don’t even notice him until it’s too late. A gloved hand clamps down on one man’s shoulder, spinning him around with an almost casual effort. Noir doesn’t waste time. The blow is swift, brutal—a single strike to the man’s temple that sends him crumpling to the ground.
The second man barely has time to react, stumbling backward with a terrified curse. Noir closes the distance in an instant, his movements fluid and precise. A sharp crack echoes through the alley as the man’s arm is wrenched at an unnatural angle. He screams, but Noir silences him with a swift knee to the ribs. He falls, gasping and broken, as Noir turns to you.
The black Kevlar of his suit gleams faintly in the dim light, the contours of his armor making him seem more shadow than man. His helmet hides his face entirely, the opaque visor reflecting your terrified expression back at you. He stands perfectly still, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, his presence both menacing and oddly comforting.
You crumble to the ground, your legs giving out beneath you as adrenaline and fear collide in your veins. Relief washes over you, but it’s tainted by something darker—frustration, disappointment, an aching sense of abandonment.
Noir kneels on the ground to make sure you're okay.
“Why—why isn’t he here?” you sob, your voice breaking. The words spill out of you, raw and unfiltered, as you pound your fists weakly against Noir’s chest.
He doesn’t move.
“Why won’t he come for me?” you cry, your hands trembling against the hard, unyielding surface of his armor. “He’s supposed to be here. He’s always here.”
Noir doesn’t answer. Of course, he doesn’t. He simply stands there, a silent sentinel as your emotions spill over in a torrent of tears and ragged gasps. His helmet tilts ever so slightly, as if he’s observing you, but he offers no comfort, no words of reassurance.
You clutch at him like a drowning person reaching for a lifeline, your fingers curling around the slick fabric of his suit. The tears come harder now, soaking into the Kevlar as you press your face against him.
“I hate him,” you whisper through clenched teeth, though the bitterness in your voice is softened by the despair in your heart. “I hate him for leaving.”
Noir stands up, lifting you with him, and lets you go once he's sure you're standing straight. His silence is maddening. Why isn't he angry that you're being ungrateful? Why isn't he at least talking about Homelander disappearing? ANYTHING?
You finally step back, your hands trembling as you wipe at your tear-streaked face. Your gaze meets Noir’s visor, and for a moment, you imagine you see something there—pity, perhaps, or understanding. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the blank, inscrutable void of his masked expression.
“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely, though the words feel hollow. What you really want to say is, Why wasn’t it him?
Noir doesn’t react. He simply steps back, his movements as quiet and calculated as ever, before melting into the shadows.
You’re alone again, the weight of Homelander's absence pressing down on you like a physical force.
But... a thought creeps in. If Black Noir came, then Homelander must know, too. They all have access to the same intel. He knows where you are and what you’re doing, and still—still—he hasn’t come for you.
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GUYS, I think this is going to be a three-parter. Bear with me. The next chapter will be the last. Let me know what you guys think and if you want to be tagged to the third one!
Thank you for all the love 😭😭
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doctorprofessorsong · 1 day ago
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I've been waiting to really have some time to type out my thoughts about the Ody3, and now I have managed to sneak away, so here you go.
Doctor Odyssey is not being presented as a love triangle, but instead as a throuple. A basic tenet of polyamory for a lot of people is: one person cannot meet all my emotional and physical needs.
And to be crystal clear, that's also something the show has expressly outlined. The captain said it. Out loud. About a throuple. So it's not like this is unintentional.
With that, here's why this throuple story is balanced and conveying clearly that they each meet separate and important emotional needs (physically they've all said it was awesome so let's assume the sex is good)
Avery - Avery is an interesting character because she is very smart and largely defines herself by academic accomplishments. In fact, she is considering med school but doesn't have a burning need to be a doctor. She just feels like it's what she should do. This wars with her nature to pursue pleasure. She wants to see the world. She isn't interested in settling down. And she has a fear of commitment that stems from being hurt while envisioning a future where she has "fixed" herself and has kids and a spouse. She also froze her eggs, which takes commitment, but didn't say kids as her bucket lost goal.
Tristan - Tristan is all heart. He's touchy and feels deeply and openly and unapologetically. He openly loves, appreciates being wanted, and tbh is a himbo (honorific). He also is terrified of being left because of his mother who love bombed and abandoned him over and over again. He craves something stable while also being absolutely terrified of getting it and either losing it or losing his taste for it. He wants kids but isn’t willing to risk his heart unless he knows his partner is all in on him which is basically an impossibility at the front end of a relationship.
Max - Max is smart and he knows it. He loves learning new things with an enthusiasm most people don't appreciate. But that's both an attribute and a drawback for him because Max hides behind his knowledge when he's scared or hurt. Rather than be vulnerable, he falls into a pattern of professionalism and authority (earned or not). He longs to let his hair down, but stepping out of his self-imposed role is terrifying.
So knowing all that, let's look at them ttogether.
Max and Avery - these two absolutely thrive in an academic or cerebral challenge. They challenge each other and push each other intellectually. They are attracted to the other in part by those sexy brains. But they have no idea how to cross the divide on an emotional level. Avery has no clue how to tease Max out of his rigid walls (something she seems to acknowledge when asking Tristan to help with the throuple idea). And Max also can't figure that out. Also, Max encourages Avery's instinct to define herself by academic achievements (not purposely so much as because they are too alike here)
Max and Tristan - Max and Tristan have similar life goals but it's the way they connect emotionally that is the key to the balance for both characters. Tristan can reach Max, like he did in the mid season finale. He breaks the ice around Max's heart. Max, meanwhile, gives Tristan and stability and maturity he craves. And Max feels like he's a constant. He may retreat behind his walls and rules, but you get the feeling that if he lets that guard down, he would be a steady partner.
Avery and Tristan - these two like each other. They're close. They care about each other. Yet they didn't find a space without Max. I think it's because they are both too prone to having fun (Avery) and running away from commitment (both of them). Tristan has historically held Avery up as an idea while not seeing the person. Avery has either dismissed Tristan or recognized she isn't willing to give him the steady commitment he craves. They are GREAT for each other. They care about each other and support each other and connect so well. But neither of them is in a space where a healthy relationship can form on their own.
When you put them all together, you start to see both how they fulfill certain needs in each other but also how they fill in the gaps. No pairing stands alone. It's unbalanced. But together, they work so well.
Interestingly, we're shown that. They are best when they are together and on the same page. Things feel unbalanced when they aren't on screen together. Even when they work well together one on one, eventually coming together as a triad is like an emotional home base for them.
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bokettochild · 1 day ago
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Am I allowed to ask about your Legend losing magic brainrot or do I need to just wait for more ACAC to come out?
No, I'm always happy to talk about this one!
I've actually had this headcannon for a while now, but it hasn't managed to come up in a story much (mainly because I've yet to post that BoHH chapter) but here's a brief rundown!
Legend had really strong magic as a child (it's implied heavily in the manga)
His adventures helped him temper it and learn to use it in various ways.
The manga imply that this magic is at least partially a gift of the triforce, although I believe all hylians have at least some magic, even if only latent. His royal blood would also contribute in my HC
Legend's magic was at it's peak in his Oracle adventures, where he had literal goddesses at his side most of the time and was frequently called upon to use their instruments as well as some of his own
Legend lost his magic on the way home from Labrynna when he was caught in a magical storm and struck by lightning.
Here's how it works!
A hylian, and any other magic user, has what one would call a 'magical core'. it's not something physical, but it functions as a heart of sorts where magic is involved, and despite not being present in the physical sense, can be felt and voluntarily controlled to certain extents by skilled magic users. All of their magic flows through this core much like our blood cycles through us from our heart, and, much like a heart, it can weaken or grow stronger depending on the health of the mage, the frequency of use, and what level of magic is employed.
Legend's magical core is incredibly strong, but when he was struck by lightning and woke up on Koholint, that changed.
See, in my HC, the Windfish fully intended to bring him there. What he didn't intend to do was essentially disconnect body and soul in order to do so. As far as this HC is concerned, Legend may or may not have technically been dead for the entirety of that adventure, as his 'physical' form on Koholint was created by the Windfish the same as anything else there in order to house his soul while he wandered the island, hence why it all felt so real for him.
Meanwhile, one of two things had to be happening for the Windfish. Either he was (a) trying to repair damage done to the borrowed goddess-child/servant's body, or (b) he had to essentially make a whole new physical shell for Legend's soul when he returned to the waking world because the lightning blast incinerated the original one.
Either take works with this HC, and I use them interchangeably where it suits me >:)
Whichever you use though, one thing stays true regardless; when returning Legend's soul to his body, the Windfish's magic was still incredibly weak from what he'd been through (what with the corruption and dark magic he'd been fighting) so he did a sort of slap-dash job of it (not intentionally).
This results in a sort of disconnect between Legend's actual soul as his physical form, which includes the fact that his soul and magical systems are not connected to each other as they ought to be.
I don't know how many of you have dabbled in electronics, but it's something like if you were able to build a functioning robot, but someone pulled out all the wires and you had to hurriedly reconnect them all again, only to miss one that, while not essential to basic functions, does affect one particular lesser function. The Windfish forgot that proverbial 'wire' when reattaching soul and body.
Legend is not aware of this. Legend is only aware that he had magic before Koholint, and then he didn't when he came back.
However, when he came back, I imagine he had a lot going on initially, and it's all of that which he believes caused him to lose his magic, not the dream itself. See, Legend's return to the waking world had him stranded out at sea with only a bit of driftwood and, while he had his adventurers bag, it likely didn't have any food in it. So, while, being Legend, he probably had a canteen of fresh water at hand, that would only last him so long. Which means, between sun exposure, lack of food and fresh water, and trying to find his way home, by either paddling himself around or using his mer form, he probably had some issues.
Now, I like to say he used the mer form, as it offers him the best advantages, such as not needing to actually use his fresh water supply, as Mer can absorb water from their environment and are able to withstand both salt and fresh water, as well as they have faster propulsion and he wouldn't be directly exposed to the sun.
Maybe he even ran into other mer! Who knows! Since this is my HC though, I like to say he did, but because he tried to sort of travel with them for a while, it did catch attention from above, and in perhaps the worst turn of events possible, the mer school was attacked by pirates and one little hero just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time (again) resulting in our lovely vet taking a spear through the tail.
I say the other mer got scared off by the attack and our boy was sort of just stuck in survivor mode for a good while before, eventually, being picked up by Ralph, because I want it :)
Anyways, upon return to Hyrule, he's screwed over from lightning and injuries, and since swimming with a spear through your tail (and the resulting infection) isn't much of an option, yes, that dehydration and sun exposure did come into play regardless. So, in short, Legend was screwed over from the time he made it Hyrule to the start of his next adventure. I say that he had to relearn to walk in that time, and struggled with speaking, although that was likely a result of heavy depression and trauma and less a physical issue.
I don't think Legend really tried using his magic until the following adventure, which, while not canonically his, I like to say is Cadence, but it could be ALBW instead. When he can't access his magic as he used to, he assumes that, like his speech and mobility, it was just something he lost or damaged in his returning home (the mer thing is a curse and thus outside of his control, if you were wondering).
I think he took it pretty hard, naturally. But, being himself, he adapted around it by acquiring magical items of varied sorts that he could use to sort of replicate his old abilities and/or give himself access to new magic.
Now, a magical item is something that is powered by the users magic specifically, sort of latching onto the 'veins' of their magic automatically, so this is actually a great workaround for Legend! While he can't actually find/access his 'core' for himself, a magical item can, and it taps into his magic for him, thus allowing him to employ at least some of his magic.
Now, you can get angsty with this and say that, like with a heart, because Legend himself is not regularly accessing and employing is magic, it sort of causes a build up that could and might be slowly killing him, but that's only if you want the super angsty route >:)
Regardless, what Legend has is, as Wild put it, a magical disability; essentially the equivalent of being crippled (which Legend has already been, technically, although he's recovering still from that too). As far as mortals are concerned, there's no fix for it. His soul would literally have to be removed from his body, again, and then properly re-placed within, which, while possible, he would never go for, because he's an un-trusting little bunny.
This WILL come up in other stories (it'll play a major role in BoHH), but in none of them have I chosen (so far) to restore Legend's magic to the way it's supposed to be. As is, he's sort of jury-rigged himself a solution in the form of what are, in essence, the magical equivalent of adaptive technologies/mobility aides.
The one way this does benefit him, however, is that his magic is shrouded and also much less blaringly obvious to the magically sensitive/adept, which makes hiding his heritage/presence much easier, even if it does make everything esle much harder.
And that's it!
(If you're curious about fics where I've played with this idea before, then the Sicktember 2023 installments Legacies Burden, Deeper Than The Surface, and Footsteps Across History all briefly touch on the magical adaptive technology usage, and To Seek Hyrule's Star plays a little bit with the post-Koholint Legend, although less than I had originally planned when writing it.)
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