#i still love the modern games despite this but i do get their side of things
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danimia · 5 hours ago
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The other thing I think is really important that people don't say nearly often enough:
You define your sexuality, your sexuality doesn't define you.
Modern Western culture loves putting things in boxes and saying "the things in this box, they all behave this way. If they don't behave this way, they don't belong in this box."
But nature doesn't do boxes! Nature does weird shit! Evolution is literally only possible because sometimes, the process that makes an offspring into a member of the exact same species as their parent decides to take a gamble and do something a little different this one time.
You can do that too! You can be an A+ gold star lesbian and still, you could meet the person of your dreams and they are just so pretty and they are everything you've ever wanted in a partner, and they also just so happen to be a man. Doesn't even have to involve either person being trans, it happens with cis folks too! A dear cis friend of mine in high school never once dated a dude—women only, for the whole time we were in the same social circle. She ended up finding a cis guy she liked so much that she married him, but she never stopped liking girls, and she never stopped identifying as a lesbian! It happens in the other direction too, with people who primarily identify as straight being in stable, long-term relationships with other cis folks of their same gender. This isn't hypothetical, either; I'm thinking of actual examples of friends of mine, some of whom are married, though I'm not naming them for obvious reasons.
It's not just straight people, it's not just gay people. It's not just cis people, or trans people, or demi or ace or aro or intersex people or anyone under or outside any umbrella you care to name. We are all human, and while some of us have sexualities that narrow down or even eliminate the possibility of the people we'll be attracted to, it is such a vanishingly small part of who we are as people. (Except for those of you for whom your sexuality is a huge part of who you are. Much respect, keep on cooking, moving on.)
I like to think of my sexuality as a radar. It's a way for me to identify, at first glance, people that I think might have the qualities I look for in a partner. That doesn't mean that everyone who might be a good partner for me will show up on it, and it also doesn't mean that anyone that does show up is someone I'd be interested in. When you find someone who really clicks with you—where you can stay up all night chatting, and your heart skips a beat when they get that look of determination after you curbstomp them in a fighting game, and you both like the same restaurants...you don't have to think, "If only they were a..." to yourself! You can just revel in having found someone who is such a good match for you. And you can decide to start dating them, or you can just be friends with them, no matter what either of you is packing in the way of sexuality or gender.
The trouble only comes when you start using your label to define yourself. If you say, "well clearly this person isn't partner material because they are a..." then you're cheating the both of you out of the possibility of a beautiful relationship. And if on the other side you say "If I'm dating them, then how can I be a..." then you're letting other people define your identity for you.
Love who you love. Humans are so wild and weird and varied, and despite the minuscule chances, so many of us still manage to find others who see the parts of us we never thought anyone else could cherish, who complement us in ways we never even knew we could have asked for, and it is such a miracle when it happens, for every person who gets so lucky, every time. Don't let your emotional attachment to a word spoil your chances at that.
hey so, my gender identity is heavily tied to me being butch, but my partner recently came out as a trans man. i still feel attracted to him so now i’m questioning if i’m really a lesbian. if not does this mean i’m not butch? sorry if this isn’t what this blog is for i just find comfort in your queer writing and wondered if you had any advice. being a system already means our identity of “butch” is complicated but this just makes things moreso :(
nope you can still be a butch and a lesbian even though he's a trans man! trans men and mascs are often involved in lesbian relationships, and relationships with other butches. trans men and mascs can be in lesbian and sapphic relationships, even if they're men and only men. also, butches do not have to be women or exclusively attracted to women. as long as your partner is okay with being viewed that way, you're allowed to do whatever you please! hope that helps, take care!
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seratopia · 2 years ago
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miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - intoxicated → she/her pronouns!
modern ceo au! what happens when miguel is drunk
It's extremely rare when Miguel goes out to drink with coworkers, it's rare enough when Miguel gets out to go anywhere in general. He's either cooped up in his office, glued to his work, or glued to you at home.
You suggested to Miguel earlier this week about getting out to a bar, along with a few of the other higher-ups of the company. It's healthy to get out, you said, even if all he's going to be doing is drinking alcohol and eating meat.
Miguel's only good with people in a more professional sense; he's not the best at being all buddy-buddy with people he usually works with. He's quiet the entire time he's at the bar, occasionally taking a bored nibble at a bowl of loaded fries.
He kind of regrets this; surrounded by loud music, loud people, TV's with sports games playing in the background. He just misses you, he wants to come home and make food with you.
One of his coworkers, nudged him in the side a bit, obviously gesturing towards the wide array of various drinks and juices.
"Might as well have a drink while you're at it." He says, and Miguel is just stone-faced the entire time. The man walks away towards the remaining group of coworkers, possibly to either go dance, or to stare at girls from afar.
Considerably, it's been a while since he's had a drink. One or two wouldn't hurt, especially as a last minute scrounge for enjoyment in this god-awful bar.
Slowly, Miguel nurses on a drink provided by a suspiciously sleek bartender, leaning his cheek into his palm whilst taking a couple sips. He can feel the wolfish eyes of various women & men staring at him, feeling somehow exposed in his tight white button-up and simple pants. If only you were here, to sit in his lap and run your little hands against his chest.
The thought makes his head spin, a violent hot warmth running up his cheeks, his mind being blurred like a smudge on someone's reading glasses. The room's almost tilting sideways, the thoughts in his head dissolving away. (miguelito is a lightweight because i say so)
Miguel's drunk, for the first time in literal years.
He doesn't like it; he feels out of control of his body, unable to think or function correctly. He feels like a different person entirely, his eyes replaced with jelly and the tips of his ears turning scarlet.
The drink tasted good and all, but Miguel's thoughts on you feel magnified, every feature, every action you do running through his head like a cassette tape. He misses you more, and he really wants to see you.
Cleverly, he pulls out his phone, sighing to himself on the counter. It takes him a moment to put in his phone password correctly, fingers drunkenly tapping on the screen until he can find your contact.
. . .
You receive a text notification at about 9:43. Expectedly, you knew Miguel probably wouldn't make it through the whole night, but you're proud of him for trying. You open up your phone, amidst watching a show in bed.
miguelito💞💓: My love, I am intoxicated.
The text makes you giggle a little, imagining him all red-faced and tripping over himself with his coworkers.
Conveniently, you receive another text, one from the person you asked to keep an eye on Miguel.
It's a picture of Miguel with his head leaned against the counter, lovingly zooming in on a picture of your face with his phone. His ears are red, and there's a half-drunken drink beside him.
james q: he says he misses you. want me to take him home? you: it's okay, thanks tho. i'll be there in 10 to get him. james q: 👍
Assuming Miguel's still on his phone, you shoot him a text.
you: i see u looking at me
You giggle to yourself, and Miguel is visibly both shocked and excited, peering left to right as if you were magically in the bar.
miguelito💞💓: Please pick me up. I hate it here. you: ok sweetie, be there in 10
. . .
Despite the hour, the bar is bustling as ever, populated with underage girls wearing slip dresses and drunk frat boys. You worm through the building, searching left and right for your husband through the cacophonous bar.
Finally, you spot him where the counter is, big head tucked into crossed arms.
Gently, you slip your hand onto his shoulder, warmly rubbing him awake. At first he flinches, staring at you as if you were a stranger. He relaxes a few seconds later, lovingly and drunkenly fixating on you.
"Hey hun, I'm here to take you home." You say, and Miguel feels so warm, so comforted in contrast to the rash environment of the pub. He wants to kiss you, but he's too drunk to focus.
Without a word, Miguel rises from his bar stool, arms and hands immediately inching around your shoulders. He doesn't realize it, but he's pressing more of his body weight onto you, leaning on top of you like a slug.
Seeing you roll away the finest, sexiest piece of man as if it were nothing makes the party around you fume, their thoughts of asking for a number shattered within a minute or two.
Miguel trails after you, gluing himself to your back as you maneuver yourself out of the stuffy bar. Finally, you're out in the cool air of the dark, muffled edm music booming from the block's other counterparts.
The sidewalk is somewhat barren, scattered with a few people smoking or walking.
"I missed you, s'much." Miguel slurs, seeing the outline of your car in the dark parking lot.
"I know you did, baby. Now you get to come home with me and we can do whatever you want, like we promised." You say, unlocking your car with the press of your key.
He smiles just a teensy bit, his heart warming at the thought of snuggling up to you in bed, or cooking a late-night meal of sorts with you while a show plays in the background.
Miguel's the passenger princess tonight, adjusting the seat backwards so he can actually sit. He stares at you the entire time through bleary eyes, watching you start the car as if it were the most artistic and most beautiful thing ever.
"I love you." Miguel says, and you can feel the gratuity in his voice.
"I love you too."
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© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.
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lazycats-stuff · 3 months ago
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Male reader who’s Ra’s immortal enemies- to lovers- to friends - to annoyances - to married - to divorced - to friends - to I’ve known you for so long that I could stab you and I’d peck you on the cheek and you’d stab me with the same knife and kiss me till I pass out.
Kinda like Gomez and Morticia but Male reader is called grandma as a joke but after 3 centuries it kinda just stuck so he checks up on the league every 2 decades only to find Ra’s in a fight with the bats and just kinda gets a chair and watches before Dusan or Talia comes and says “MOTHER-!?” “Oh hey I brought snacks”
Oh my God, this sounds great. Lets do it. I may also added Damian calling the reader grandma. I just wanted to.
Summary: (Y/N) and Ra's know each other for a long time.
Warnings: both are a power couple, I swear, mentions of killing, stabbing each other, loving one another, a whole lot of relationships with this.
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(Y/N) and Ra's al Ghul go a very long way back. Extremely long. About 400 years to be more specific. The two started off as enemies. And since the two were essentially immortal with the Lazarus pit. The two have killed each other more times they could count. It was stress relief almost for them both.
And they enjoyed the games they have played. Hunting each other down, trying to kill the other, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Not to mention, the bragging rights from (Y/N)'s side. It's no easy feat to kill Ra's al Ghul. And Ra's would strike back. It's a good way to get some stress out, just like said before.
But over time, something else grew and the two became lovers, loving each other fiercely. It was a love story for the ages, as the two would joke. In modern terms, they would be a true power couple. Both of them strong in their own right and if they are separated, they can both hold on their own. And if together?
True meaning of terror and fear in their world.
And they were a power couple for a long time.
But sooner than later, love started to fizzle out. And while they were married, they became friends. It was nice to have a friend in Ra's, despite being a killer and everything in between. Ra's is a loyal friend, the one who wouldn't betray you for anything. That's what (Y/N) knew at least. Of course, that same courtesy came from (Y/N).
Safe to say, the two were loyal to each other to the bone.
And even when they entered that stage of being purely and utterly annoyed with each other, they were still loyal to the bone to each other. It was rare to find a person like that, whom you could annoy to the point of stabbing each other. Which has happen before.
(Y/N) on his knees, Ra's holding a knife implanted in (Y/N)'s stomach, both of them smiling at each other. Even kissing each other while the knife was in one of them. Talk about twisted love. (Y/N) and Ra's have been through a lot and one of the things he remembers vividly is Talia's birth. And it was one of his favorite memories. He may or may have not cried when he held Talia for the first time. It is something that has officially ingrained into his brain.
He got called mother as a result. He didn't like it at first, however, it grew on him. Soon enough, it became an inside joke and he couldn't really be mad at it. It was something... It felt like home, (Y/N) would say.
Soon enough, (Y/N) started travelling, using Ra's' money to do so? Why? Ra's has enough of it already and travelling in the best hotels in the world wouldn't make a dent in his pocket. Never has and it never will. Ra's simply handed him the credit card with a smile and a kiss.
" Go wherever your heart desires beloved. "
And he did.
He travelled a lot, seeing the world, doing what his heart desired. Of course, he stayed in contact with Ra's and Talia during his travels. He would share updates about what he saw and learned. However, he came back once he heard that his daughter was pregnant. He was essentially going to be a grandfather.
Well, he would be a grandmother as the joke from years ago would come back to bite him in the ass. And it bit him hard. While Talia's pregnancy progressed, she would often talk to the baby, talking about how he will met grandmother (Y/N). And how did (Y/N) react?
He simply scoffed, saying it's too early in the day to deal with this. It would make Talia chuckle and Ra's would smirk, enjoying the sight of his husband getting teased.
Yes, husband.
They decided to remarry because the feelings have returned to romantical ones, they were no longer platonic. They would be back to spending time together, sitting on the balcony, sipping their wines and holding hands as they were watching the sunset. It felt just like old times.
And yes, he was present when Damian was born. He may or may have not cried in private. What can he say, he just felt like he had a family. Ra's was happy too, with an heir worthy of taking over the League. Of course, the father being Bruce Wayne, Damian is more than worthy of being the Leader once Ra's no longer there.
Once Damian turned 9, (Y/N) went back to travelling the world. He enjoyed it.
It's been years since he came back from the travel. The League was oddly quiet. (Y/N) didn't think much of it and came back to take a break, bringing food and gifts for everyone. He didn't expect to see a fight breaking out, but he has decided to stand by and watch. He was too jet lagged to even think about fighting. So he waited as he ate, completely entranced into the fight. Ra's fought with ferocity against Batman.
Talia was busy with the 4 birds, Damian included. He watched his daughter fighting, impressed by her skills. Ra's has taught her very well. He took a chair and then sat down to watch. Both Ra's and Talia fought with ferociousness, using every tactic they could remember to fight off the Bats as the family was called that to shorten it up.
And (Y/N) found the nickname really funny. He leaned back into the chair, watching in fascination.
" Mother?! " Talia exclaimed, making everyone freeze.
" Grandmother?! " Damian exclaimed, but from excitement. Damian didn't see him for a long time and Talia hadn't expected him to come back yet.
Damian run to him and (Y/N) gave him a hug. He missed his grandson and once he heard that he was in Gotham, he had an urge to visit. But God only knows how Bruce would have reacted. He probably wouldn't have let in anyhow. And despite (Y/N) being an Al Ghul, he has enough respect to not break into the Manor. And he didn't want to make a bad impression on his unofficial son in law.
" Hello Damian. How are you doing? " (Y/N) asked Damian, while everyone else watched.
" I've been doing well. And you grandmother? "
" Is that really still stuck? Call me grandpa. Not grandmother. "
" I prefer grandmother. "
" Of course you do. A Robin suit? Nice. I hope Bruce is treating you well. Otherwise I'll have to turn on my protective mode, " (Y/N) said to Damian, who actually chuckled.
" I'm doing well in Gotham. "
" Good. Good... Also, I might come to visit soon. " The last part was directed at Bruce and (Y/N) wasn't going to take no for an answer. His grandson comes first. Alongside his daughter.
" Now, fighting is over. I'm jet lagged beyond belief so I would kindly ask the birds and the big bat to leave. Fight in a few weeks, I don't care. Right now, some peace and quiet sounds good, " (Y/N) has declared, making Ra's smirk.
" Of course beloved. Anything for you. " Ra's said and (Y/N) nodded, happy to have his way after the stupid jet lag.
" Good. Also, nice to meet you the rest of the birds, but I have no time to chat. " (Y/N) took his things into his hands and then left to his shared bedchambers with Ra's.
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charmandabear · 1 year ago
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Yule
Summary:
While snuggling by the Yule fire, you forget just how sensitive elf ears can be.
Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 2.2k Tags/Warnings: post-game spoilers, cunnilingus, blood drinking, p in v sex, spawn!Astarion, soft!Astarion, fluff and smut, Astarion deserves to be bitten too
Read it on AO3.
Enough people said they'd still be interested in reading holiday-related fics even after the holidays, so here you go! Huge shout-outs to Idylla for their incredible art used in the banner. Their modern!Astarion absolutely ruins me.
Midwinter Nights: Yule | Christmas | New Year's Eve
Astarion curled against you as the Yule fire burned low in the hearth. You knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake all night, despite his insistence to the contrary. It amused you even more because, as an elf, he didn’t really need to sleep. But he had grown so accustomed to it at this point, snuggling up with you each night as you got your mandatory eight hours, it was a harder habit to break. 
You had only just put the most recent batch of cookies in the oven, but you were a little concerned for what would happen when you needed to take them out. Astarion was much like a cat in that way; if he climbed on top of you, it was a crime to disturb him. You could lay there forever, pinned beneath his weight, and you’d thank the gods for it. 
You peered down at him, sleeping so peacefully. He almost looked like a cat, pointy ears occasionally flicking at the warm air that emanated from the fire. You could practically see his tail swishing contentedly. Ever since killing Cazador and reclaiming his freedom, he’d been so drawn to creature comforts, looking for softness and indulgence in all he could find. 
You ran your fingers through his white curls, scratching his scalp absentmindedly. He shifted in his sleep, subconscious nudging him into your touch. You would sit here all night if you could, nails dancing over his pale skin while he slept soundly. You knew that eventually your timer would go off and you would need to take this latest batch of cookies out. But for now, at least, you could just enjoy having him pressed up against your side.
You stared into the fire as your hand wandered, gently stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck. You marveled at how much had changed in these past few months. Karlach and Wyll ventured to Avernus to fight on the front lines of the Blood War, and while you missed them, you knew you were only a ritual away from seeing them at the House of Hope. Gale had gone back to continue his studies in Waterdeep, and Lae’zel found herself living a surprising life of domestic bliss with Shadowheart, newly reunited with her parents. You haven’t heard much from Halsin, Jaheira, or Minsc, but you were certain that they were finding respite wherever they were. 
As you’re getting lost in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to where your hand flitted across Astarion’s skin; that is, until you heard a breathy moan escape his lips. You looked down and realized that you were running the tip of your pointer around the shell of his ear. You pulled away suddenly, embarrassed as you realized you were basically doing the elf equivalent of teasing his nipples. He whined at the sudden loss of contact, and you sat frozen, unsure if he was awake or not. 
He stirred, legs squirming against a definitive bulge growing in his loose pants. He sat up and blinked sleepily, gears turning as he put together where he was. He turned to you and suddenly his eyes focused, pupils wide like a cat focused on its prey. 
“If you wanted something, you could’ve just asked, you know,” he said in a low purr, and you could feel yourself clench in response to the fire his words stoked deep in your core. 
“Sorry love, it was an accident,” you whispered, trying to sound cool but the crack in your voice gave you away. 
“Accident or no, you’ve made your bed, so I hope you’re ready to lie in it,” he said with a grin, fangs glinting in the firelight. He launched himself onto you, kissing you roughly as he tangled his hands in your hair. You tried to regain your breath as you kissed him back, your hands scrambling for purchase on his clean linen shirt. Your body bent back with the weight of his as he shifted on top of you, prying your legs open with his knee. An unseemly moan escaped your lips as he pressed his hardness right up to the apex of your thighs. You ran your fingers through his hair, though whether it was to regain control or just hang on for dear life, you couldn’t tell. 
Between the heat radiating from the fire, the slight delirium from staying up all night, and the way that your arousal for this man made your head swim, you could barely think straight. He continued to roll his hips into you obscenely, and you could feel the telltale dampness seeping into your small clothes. You spread your legs a little wider, trying to feel that delicious friction through the several layers of fabric that separated you. 
You broke the kiss to take in a gulp of air, beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. His lips migrated to your neck, flicking the tip of his tongue along the puncture wound that had only recently closed up. A shudder surged through your body at the sensation and you squirmed involuntarily, your body urging you closer to his. You rolled your head away from him, presenting your neck as a silent offering as you had so many times before. He needed no further invitation and sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh, your simultaneous groans of pleasure mingling together in your ears. You knew you were courting danger by letting him bite when you were already woozy, but it was worth the risk for the good it did you both. He always became a little more powerful, a little more dominant right after drinking your blood; for you, the feeling of him siphoning just a little of your life force away gave you an unmatched feeling of ecstasy.
He detached himself from your neck and looked down at you, panting. The sight of him post-feeding always sent you into a frenzy. His cheeks and ears uncharacteristically flushed, his bloody lips in a sedate half-smile, hair a tousled mess, and a wild look in his eyes like he was ready to devour you. You could only imagine what he saw in return; your hair splayed out beneath you, eyes glassy, mouth open in a suspended moan as blood trickled down your neck.
He ran a hand down the front of your blouse and you arched your back to meet his touch. He was still pressed between your legs, your knees hooked around his waist. He ran a finger along the waistband of your pants, causing you to whine needily.
“Tell me what it is you want, pet,” he purred, the predatory cat out in full force. Your hips bucked up against him as you grasped at the rug beneath you. He looked so gorgeous in the orangey firelight, his skin soft and glowy. You pawed wantonly at the hem of his shirt, any semblance of speech leaving your body. He grabbed your flailing wrists and pinned them above your head, bringing his lips within an inch of yours.
“Your words, love. Tell me what you want,” he growled, a little more forcefully than before, eliciting another desperate mewl. 
“Ah- I.. Astarion,” you pled with him and he grinned, fangs pressing into your lips.
“Yes?” The word was a breathless whisper. He looked down the length of his nose at you, crimson eyes piercing into you.
“I want you to taste me,” you squeaked out, writhing beneath the hard length of his body. He pressed his lips to your ear just as he pressed his erection into your mound.
“Good girl,” he hissed, and pushed off your chest to slink downward to your hips. He grabbed your waistband and slid your pants down over your ass, dragging his cool hands across your heated skin. He pressed his lips into your hip and you arched into him, yearning to feel him on every inch of you. Your skin prickled from the heat of the fire, his contrasting touch making you shiver. 
He traveled downward, each kiss pulling a new and more debaucherous sound from your throat. His lips hovered above yours and he relished in making you twitch with need. After a second of teasing that felt like an eternity, he swiped his tongue along your slit and you groaned in relief. He dug his fingers into your thighs as he gently lapped at your folds, making you feel more heated with each pass. He spread your lips apart with his dexterous fingers, tracing lazy shapes with the tip of his tongue.
Your fingers curled into his hair once more, hoping to regain control of your cantering hips. He pushed his tongue deeper into you and your breath grew ragged, your hips begging to fully fuck his face. He relented to your control, letting you grind on his lips and tongue to chase your own satisfaction. Your cries grew in tandem with the pressure that mounted in your core, and this time when your hands wandered to stroke his ears, it was intentional. He moaned into your cunt, a deep, primal sound that sent vibrations directly to your clit, sending you over the edge. He buried his face into you as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, thighs squeezing around his head.
He pulled away once the pulses had subsided and you delighted to see his disheveled face, your juices reflecting in the firelight. He roughly pulled you up onto his lap, pulling your still sensitive swell down hard onto his erection. You moaned into his lips, sharing the taste of you with him.
“You saucy little minx,” he growled even as you could feel his smile through the kiss. Your fingers fumbled at his waistband, desperate to free him and feel him inside you. He peeled your blouse over the top of his head just as you released his cock from his trousers, tip already glistening with precum. Your breath hitched at the sight of it, your pussy already aching to be filled.
The length of his cock teased your folds, and he cupped one of your breasts in his hand, the pad of his thumb skating over the pert nipple. You threw your head back, raising your tits up with a heaving breath just so he could latch on with his mouth, suckling gently. Your arms around his neck, you danced your fingers close to his ear, teasing him as much as you were asking him for more. He pulled off your nipple with a pop and stared red hot daggers into you.
“Careful love. Mess with the cat and get the claws,” he warned in a low and dangerous whisper. He raised your hips up and pulled you down in one fell stroke onto his stiffened cock. The cry he tore out of you was your most obscene yet, but you were already so wet and hungry for him that you slid down to his base without resistance.
You began to ride his dick, your knees pressing against the floor as he stretched you out with every thrust. Now it was his turn to toss his head back, leaving his pale throat open and vulnerable. You sunk your teeth into the cold flesh, your dull human incisors not actually piercing skin, but eliciting a delicious groan from him nonetheless. He kept his hands squarely on your hips as you bounced up and down, relishing the slide of him along your inner walls.
You wanted to see him lose himself in you. You wanted him to come undone like you were. You needed more of those breathy moans in your ear as he unleashed the predator within.
You nipped at his earlobe.
Almost as though an external force possessed his body, he slammed you down onto your back without pulling out of you. He pushed your knees up to your ears and pounded into you forcefully, the edge of your second orgasm rapidly approaching. Your tits bounced with the force of his thrusts, and it took everything in your power to keep your eyes open so you could watch him unravel above you. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his red eyes looked down on you, positively feral. You could see his fangs through the soft o-shape his mouth formed as he came, his orgasm sending you crashing into yours. You could still feel his cock throbbing inside you with each burst of his seed even as your vision slowly faded into black.
You awoke a few moments later curled up on some pillows and a cool washcloth laid across your forehead. Next to you was a glass of water which you gulped down eagerly.
Astarion came back into the room, face still looking deliciously flushed and bitten, with a small plate of cookies. He kneeled down next to you and held one up to your lips, and you accepted the snack without hesitation. He pulled the washcloth from your forehead and kissed your cool damp skin, his lips almost warm in comparison.
“Love, you can't scare me like that. I thought I fucked you into a coma. If you're feeling unwell, say something,” he said, red eyes full of concern. You wave it off with a shrug.
“What can I say? Maybe I like messing with the cat,” you respond with a giggle as you bite down on your cookie, teeth bared playfully.
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sherewrytes · 2 months ago
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Love and Gunshots, Eren x Black Reader
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Gang member Eren x Introvert black reader
Summary: In a dangerous urban landscape, y/n, an introverted Criminal Law student, finds herself drawn into the violent world of the Sixx Gang through her protective cousin, Onyankopon. When she locks eyes with Eren Yeager, a hot-headed gang member, a twisted game of desire and danger begins.
As Eren becomes obsessed with y/n, he threatens to unravel the fragile balance Ony has maintained to shield her from their brutal lifestyle. With loyalty tested and violence lurking at every turn, the lines between love and danger blur, leading to a dark climax where the heart proves just as lethal as a gun.
Genre: Dark Romance/Crime Modern au
Warnings: Graphic violence, drug use, smut, obsession
I’ll re edit this when I’m better, in the mean time happy reading
Taglist: @topshotdivaa @prettypink-princesss @burpzz @niaizzy1623 @jcoleisbetter @msjaeger @hidd3nbimbo @vampimilikis @nova2kss honeydrzzldpeaches
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Chapter 6: Danger
Eren’s pov
I didn’t want to admit it, but I could feel the weight of the situation creeping up on me. YN’s words rang in my ears, and as we pulled up to her house, I saw the familiar jeeps parked outside. My stomach sank, and I could already tell this wasn’t going to end well. Connie, Jean, and Reiner were sitting on the front steps, casually talking, but I could see the tension in their faces. Levi stood off to the side, arms crossed, looking like he was waiting for a reason to either kill me or rip into me.
I leaned back in my seat, watching them all carefully. I wasn’t stupid. They knew. They knew exactly what happened to Ony, and they were waiting for me to explain myself—except I wasn’t in the mood for any more explanations. Not after everything that had happened. Not after what I did.
YN didn’t say a word as I turned off the engine. She didn’t look at me either. Maybe she was too tired to fight me, or maybe she just wanted this mess to end. Either way, I knew it wasn’t going to be simple. Not when Levi and the rest of the crew were involved.
I sighed, finally glancing over at her. "Stay inside. I'll handle this." I wasn’t sure why I said it. Maybe because, in some sick way, I wanted to protect her from the fallout. Maybe because, despite everything, I didn’t want her to get caught up in this madness.
She looked at me for a moment, hesitated, then nodded, still not saying a word.
I slammed the door shut behind me, already feeling the weight of what was coming.
Connie stood up first, a half-smirk on his face. "Guess you’ve got a lot of explaining to do, huh?" His voice wasn’t mocking, but the look in his eyes said it all. He knew something had gone down.
Jean and Reiner stayed quiet, probably waiting for me to crack. They were loyal, I could give them that much.
Levi, though... Levi didn’t move an inch. His cold, calculating stare was all I needed to know. The man was a ticking time bomb, and I could practically feel the heat of his fury radiating off him.
I walked toward them, trying to keep my cool, but deep down, I was already bracing for what was about to come.
I watched as Ony stormed out, his arm bandaged up but his rage unrestrained. The moment he saw YN, his face twisted in a mix of anger and something I hadn’t seen from him before—pure hatred. My smile didn’t falter, though. It felt almost ironic, how quickly things had escalated from a shot in the street to this mess in front of her house. I wasn’t worried. Not yet. But I knew this was about to get ugly.
Ony shouted at YN, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife, and I could see the tears welling in her eyes. The sight of her like that... it did something to me. But I couldn’t let it show. Not now. Not when things were getting so far out of hand. Levi didn’t even move to stop him, letting Ony go off on YN like he had a right to.
I wasn’t surprised when I saw someone grab Ony by the arm, pulling him away before things could escalate further. But it wasn’t just anyone. YN’s voice cut through the chaos when she called out to the person holding him, her voice shaking as she said, "Mom! Aunt!" I froze for a moment. Her family. Her real family.
I watched as Ony was pulled away, his eyes still burning with that hatred, and YN’s eyes followed him, full of pain and confusion. The words "pack your things" floated in the air like a death sentence, and for a split second, I thought she might cave. But she didn’t. She said no.
A smile crept onto my face. Not because I wanted her to suffer, but because I was starting to understand her more than I had before. YN was stubborn. She wasn’t someone who would let herself be easily controlled. And right now, I could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t going to back down. Not from me. Not from anyone.
But then Ony’s eyes met mine. They were filled with something I’d never thought I’d see from someone I’d once considered close. That raw, unfiltered hatred. It felt like a punch in the gut, and for a second, I felt like I was the one who had been shot. It was so sharp, so personal, I almost couldn’t breathe.
He was never supposed to hate me. We were like family, even if it was twisted. But the way he looked at me now, I knew I had crossed a line. A line that could never be uncrossed.
And in that moment, I knew I had to make a choice.
This shit was never going to be the same again.
Levi’s voice cut through the tension like a blade, and everyone froze. His gun cracked as he cocked it, and a chill ran down my spine. I was so used to being in control, but this was different. Levi wasn’t just some boss. He was the one everyone feared, and I could feel that weight in the air.
"Didn't I say for you two to keep this off MY STREETS?" His eyes locked onto mine, and I could feel the anger radiating off of him. "Why did Hange report to me that both Ony and Eren were shot?"
The silence that followed felt like a lifetime. I could feel the blood rushing to my ears, but I didn’t say a word. No one moved, no one spoke. Levi had that effect on people. He didn’t need to shout or make a scene. He just had to look at you, and you knew your place.
Levi turned to Ony's mom and aunt, his tone shifting to something almost apologetic. "I hate to bring problems in front of other people's homes. I'm not that kind of person."
But even as he said that, there was no mistaking the threat that lingered in his words.
Then, without missing a beat, he turned to Jean and Reiner. "Back up those two. Bring them to the warehouse now."
Jean and Reiner exchanged a look, but neither of them questioned it. They knew better than anyone not to piss off Levi.
And then, it was my turn. Levi turned his eyes back to me, and I could see the cold amusement in his gaze.
"Eren, give Connie your Hellcat keys."
I stared at him for a moment, the words not even processing at first. No. I wasn’t giving up my car. It was the one thing that was mine, the one thing I had full control over.
"No," I said, my voice steady even as my pulse hammered in my chest.
Levi didn’t even blink. He just laughed, and that laugh sent a shiver through my bones.
Next thing I knew, my back hit the ground with a sickening thud, the taste of blood in my mouth. My head spun, and before I could even react, I felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against my lips.
"I dare you to say that again, Yaeger," Levi’s voice was low, cold, and threatening.
I swallowed hard, my breath shallow, but my pride refused to let me back down. I could feel the gun digging into my mouth, and I could see the intensity in Levi’s eyes. But there was something else there too—something more than just anger. It was control. He was reminding me who was in charge.
The heat of the moment, the adrenaline running through me, made me want to do something reckless, but I knew better. This wasn’t the time.
I stayed silent, but the tension was thick enough to cut through with a knife. Levi kept the gun against my lips, watching me, waiting for any sign of resistance.
For a second, I thought he might pull the trigger. But then, just as quickly, he pulled the gun away, standing up and brushing off his jacket.
"Good choice, Yaeger," he said with a smirk. "But don’t think you’ve won."
I stayed on the ground, my mind racing. This wasn’t how I had planned for things to go. But in a way, I was still alive, and that meant I had another chance to make this right.
Levi looked at Jean and Reiner again. "Get him to the warehouse. Now."
Jean and Reiner stepped forward, and I begrudgingly got to my feet. The Hellcat would have to wait. For now, I had no choice but to follow orders.
Levi’s sharp gaze never wavered as he turned toward YN's mother, his voice dripping with barely contained irritation. "You're her mother—the one who seems to be causing issues on my streets," he said, his tone cool and dangerous. The tension in the air was palpable as everyone waited for her response.
YN's mother, unfazed by the weight of Levi’s words, straightened up and took a deep breath before speaking. "My daughter is on the dean's list at university. She’s building a future for herself, Eren," she began, her voice steady, almost like she was trying to convince herself as much as anyone else. "She has no part in your world—this, whatever you call it."
Levi sighed heavily, clearly unimpressed. His fingers twitched, and his gaze shifted to Ony’s mom as if silently seeking confirmation. "It's only out of respect for you both that I haven't made this worse. But keep her out of this," Levi said, his voice sharp, but with an undertone of warning.
Before anyone could say anything else, Ony, still seething with rage, stepped forward. His voice was full of anger, but there was a hint of desperation in it too. "I've been keeping her out of this for years!" he spat, pointing his finger toward Eren. "Then E had to go mess shit up."
The atmosphere tightened even further, and I could feel the blood rising to my face as Levi’s eyes locked onto Ony with cold fury. In one swift motion, Levi crossed the distance between them and grabbed Ony by the collar of his shirt. "You really think you're in a position to talk?" Levi growled, his voice like a razor edge. "You’re truly insufferable."
Ony didn’t flinch. Not a single muscle in his body twitched as Levi held him there, glaring down with pure contempt. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, the anger crackling between them. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but Ony refused to show any sign of weakness.
Levi held him there for a moment longer, then finally released him, pushing him roughly back onto his feet. "You’ll regret this, Ony," Levi said quietly, almost conversationally. "And I won’t make the mistake of tolerating it again."
Ony straightened himself, wiping the dirt off his shirt. His eyes burned with anger, but there was a sense of helplessness in them now too. The quiet between everyone felt heavy, as if the storm was only just beginning.
Levi stepped back, glancing at YN's mother one last time. "I’ve said my piece. You can deal with your kids, but this stays off my streets. If I see this escalating again..." He let the threat hang in the air, the unsaid words more powerful than any direct statement.
Then, turning to me, he gestured toward Jean and Reiner. "Get him in the car. We’re leaving."
The tension wasn’t fully gone, but Levi had spoken, and his word was final. Everyone else seemed to shrink back under the weight of it.
As I walked past YN, her gaze met mine for a moment. There was something in her eyes—something I couldn’t quite place. A mix of confusion, anger, and maybe even disappointment. I had no idea what she wanted from me, but I knew one thing for sure: this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
The atmosphere shifted as Levi's voice rang out, commanding and final. "You're not going back in that house," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Pack your shit, you're moving out tonight." He turned to Ony’s mom, his gaze cold, but there was no warmth in it. He might have been trying to make her understand, but there was no softness in his voice when he said, "It’s for your own good."
Ony’s mom began to cry, her sobs shaky, as if the weight of everything finally hit her. "Why?" she whispered through the tears. "Why can’t you just stop?" But Ony, as usual, remained stoic. The years of conditioning, of living in this world, had taught him to hold his emotions in check. And even in this moment of pain, he did not let her see the cracks in his armor.
YN’s glare toward me didn’t falter, but I could feel it burning into me. I didn’t care. If anything, it made it easier to get closer to her. I’d been playing this game for too long, and now I was ready to finish it.
Ony sighed, walking over to his mother. His voice was quiet, almost resigned. "It’s fine, Mom. I’ll be good," he said, though it was clear he didn’t believe it.
And then, the slap came.
It was loud, sharp, a sickening sound of a mother losing all hope for her son. Ony looked shocked, his face stinging from the blow, but he didn’t say anything. His mother’s words were laced with heartbreak. "I no longer want you around," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Look at what you’re doing with your life, your family... and now this boy. You bring him around your cousin, and look where it’s gotten you."
It was a moment of clarity for her, the realization that her son was beyond saving in her eyes. And for a second, I almost felt pity for her. But it didn’t last long.
Ony didn’t flinch at her words or the slap. Instead, he just stood there, looking like the world had crumbled around him. "I’m still gonna take care of things at home, Mama," he said softly, though the edge in his voice was still there.
He turned to YN, his expression softening for a moment, but it was a fleeting softness. "You know where my other spot is," he said, almost reluctantly. "Take my car over there. You can have it." His words were like an offer, but I knew they came with strings attached. He was trying to make it seem like he still had some control in this situation.
YN didn’t respond immediately. She just stood there, her arms folded, a deep frown etched on her face as she stared at her cousin. The anger, the hurt, it all swirled in her gaze. She didn’t want any part of this life, but here it was—looming over her whether she liked it or not.
But as Ony turned to leave, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. The game was getting more complicated, but in the end, it was all about control. And I would have it, one way or another.
Levi, still holding onto that air of authority, didn’t say another word. He was done, his focus shifting back to the bigger picture. "Get him out of here," he ordered.
And with that, the scene fell back into an uncomfortable silence, everyone waiting for the next move, the next play. I wasn’t sure what YN would do next, but I knew one thing for sure: she was getting deeper into this world, whether she wanted to or not. And I would be there to guide her—whether she liked it or not.
Ony’s eyes burned with rage as he glared at Eren. It wasn’t the first time I’d wanted to kill him, but this time... this time, it felt different. There was no hesitation in my gut, no second-guessing. He’d gone too far, and the only thing stopping me from putting a bullet in him right there was the fact that YN was still standing beside him.
Ony’s POV
I clenched my fists, the sting from my mother’s slap still lingering, but the fury boiling inside me pushed it aside. YN was the last person I wanted dragged into this mess. She was better than this world—better than me, even. But Eren... He had a hold on her now, whether she realized it or not. And I couldn’t just let that happen.
I turned away from them, my anger flaring as I took a slow, deliberate step toward the door. I could feel Eren's gaze following me, like he was waiting for something. What did he want from me? He already knew I had no power over YN when it came to the choices she made. But him? He would take advantage of that power.
"She’s not yours, Eren," I muttered under my breath, my hands still trembling with the thought of what might happen next.
I wasn’t leaving without a fight. Not this time.
I’d been trying to keep her away from this life—away from me, but every time I tried to do the right thing, every time I thought I could protect her from all this darkness, something always pulled her back in. And now, here I was, standing on the edge, watching Eren get closer to her. The realization hit me hard: this wasn’t just some rivalry. This was war.
I heard Eren’s words, his cold, calculating voice still fresh in my mind. He didn’t care about anything or anyone except getting what he wanted. He had no problem wrecking lives along the way, and this time, it was mine he was playing with.
I turned back to face him, my resolve hardening. "You think you can have her just because you’re some untouchable god in this game?" I gritted my teeth. "I’ll make you regret it."
But it wasn’t just about YN anymore. It was about me. I wasn’t letting anyone, especially Eren, fuck shit up.
I leaned back against the cold, leather seat of Levi’s jeep, my mind spinning with everything that had just gone down. The tension between Eren and me was thicker than the air in the car. I could feel the heat of his presence all the way from his hell cat, but I kept my eyes forward, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his actions were fucking with my head.
I didn’t even know where we were all this is going. All I knew was that once this mess was over, I’d be the one left picking up the pieces—just like always. My mom, YN, my own damn pride. It was all slipping through my fingers, and I was powerless to stop it.
Levi’s eyes were cold, calculating, like he was already planning the next step in this twisted game. Jean and Reiner were eerily quiet, their faces unreadable. There was an air of inevitability hanging around, like none of us were getting out of this without blood being spilled.
My mind flicked back to YN—her eyes, those damn eyes that looked at me like she still saw the boy I once was, the one who wanted out of all this. But it wasn’t that simple anymore. I couldn’t just walk away. Not from her. Not from this life.
Eren, that motherfucker, always pushing buttons, always getting what he wanted at everyone else’s expense. He didn’t care. He never had. But I didn’t have the luxury of that indifference. I couldn’t just take what I wanted without considering the cost.
I wanted to run to her, to take her out of this whole fucking mess. But I knew I couldn’t. Eren was already there, already in the game. And YN was too caught up in her own way of thinking to see the bigger picture. She thought she could stay separate from all of this. But in the end, this life would swallow her whole, just like it was going to swallow me.
I glanced out the window as the city lights blurred by. I didn’t know how much time we had before things got worse. But I could feel it coming, and when it hit, I wasn’t sure who would be left standing.
The sound of the engine hummed in the background, like a lullaby, and I let my eyes fall shut for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. The pain would come later, I was sure of it. But for now, all I could do was sit in this silence and brace myself for whatever Levi had in store. Because whatever came next, I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.
We finally pulled up to the warehouse. The sound of Eren’s screams cut through the air as we walked into the warehouse. I knew exactly what was happening—Levi’s crew was making sure Eren wasn’t getting off easy. It was like a ritual, part of the price you paid for stepping out of line. I hated seeing him like that, but the truth was, I couldn’t do anything to stop it. He was as much a part of this as I was.
Levi’s presence was almost eerie, the way he walked into the chaos and immediately took control, silencing the commotion around him with nothing more than a single word. “Stop.”
I could see Eren, slumped against the wall, his face battered, his shirt torn and stained with blood. He wasn’t the only one who’d taken hits; his pain, the way it made him look weak—it made my gut twist. But Levi wasn’t finished.
Levi turned to me, his smile almost predatory, as if he enjoyed this power. “Well, it’s your turn, Ony.”
Before I could react, the first kick landed square in my ribs. I gasped, the air forced from my lungs as I stumbled back. My arm twinged with pain, the one I’d been shot in, but I did my best not to show it. I knew better than to let them see any weakness. It was a mistake I’d made before, and it always cost me.
“Don’t hurt the arm he got shot in... too much,” Levi’s voice rang out, smooth and calm as always, but there was a certain coldness to it that made me feel like I was nothing more than a pawn in his game.
The second kick came faster, harder. My ribs cracked under the pressure, the pain searing through my body like fire. But still, I didn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream. I kept my breath steady, focusing on keeping my mind sharp instead of letting the pain take control.
This was the price I had to pay. For being in this life. For taking shit for granted. For getting involved with someone like Eren and this life. I had always known it would come to this, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
The crew circled around me, their eyes on me like I was some kind of animal they were about to break. But I wouldn’t let them. Not yet.
Levi watched from the sidelines, his eyes gleaming with amusement as if he were watching a fight in a pit. The longer this went on, the more I realized—this wasn’t about punishment for me. This was about power. About control. And right now, it was his game, and I was just a piece on the board.
I could hear Eren stirring in the corner, still too beaten to move, but his eyes were on me. There was something in them—something dangerous. He wasn’t going to let this go. Not by a long shot. Neither of us were.
But as Levi turned his gaze on me again, I knew one thing for sure: I wouldn’t break. I might be down, but I wasn’t out. Not yet.
The pain in my arm exploded, sending a jolt through my entire body. It was like the heat of the burn couldn’t be contained anymore. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. I wouldn’t give Levi the power to revel in my agony. But when they hit me in that arm again, something inside of me snapped.
I didn’t even think, I just acted. My body moved on its own, fueled by pure rage. I charged toward Eren, my vision blurring with anger. He was still slumped against the wall, bloodied, but his eyes were sharp, focused. I knew he could see the storm building inside of me.
As I lunged at him, the rest of the crew started to move, but Levi’s voice sliced through the air, stopping them dead in their tracks. “Let him go.”
The room fell silent except for the sound of my breathing, ragged and heavy. Eren’s eyes narrowed. He knew what was coming, but I didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t just angry at him for what he had done to YN. No, this was about all the years of pain, betrayal, and regret that had built up inside of me. He was just the target right now.
I reached him in seconds, grabbing him by the collar, lifting him off the ground. His breath hitched in surprise, but there was no fear in his eyes. Just determination. He wasn’t going to let me have the satisfaction of breaking him.
He swung at me, and I barely dodged, feeling the wind rush past my face as his fist missed by inches. I countered, slamming my fist into his stomach. The sound of the punch echoed through the warehouse. Eren grunted but fought back, catching me off guard with a knee to my side. The pain shot through me, but I didn’t stop.
I wanted to break him. I wanted him to feel everything I was feeling.
The crew was watching, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was that I had him, and for the first time in a long while, I was in control. I shoved him back, watching as he struggled to keep his footing.
“You think you can take me down, Ony?” he spat out, his voice dripping with defiance.
I gritted my teeth, my fists tightening at my sides. I wanted to say something, to taunt him back, but the words got stuck in my throat. Instead, I swung again, catching him in the jaw, sending him crashing to the ground.
But even as I stood there, breathing heavily, watching him struggle to rise, I realized something. There was no satisfaction in this. No victory.
It felt hollow. Like I was fighting for something I couldn’t even understand.
I glanced at Levi, who stood there with a slight smirk, enjoying the chaos unfolding. But even his presence couldn’t mask the emptiness gnawing at me.
I was still going to finish this, but it wasn’t just about beating Eren anymore. It was about me trying to fix a broken piece of myself. And I knew, deep down, that even if I crushed him, it wouldn’t fix anything.
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most-datable-datable-bracket · 10 months ago
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ROUND 5 MATCH 3
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Elliott propaganda:
“Just look at him. Pure hunk energy.”
“I will punch anyone who dislikes him. He’s like a fire emblem character in the modern day. He’s so flamboyant and handsome, he can play the piano and he’s best friends with the old fishing man!”
“dramatic writer man with sexy hair”
"Since I like elliott. I will state some reasons why I like him
Imagine if Mr. Darcy didn’t insult your family first time you met him, that’s Elliott. The man who’s basically the hallmark romance love interest. He’s a writer who moves to the small town in the country side to find inspiration for his writing. Then he finds the farmer.
He has a crab living in his pocket
He can play the piano (hopefully it isn’t the river flows in you however)
His fans sometimes hc him as a merman and that’s just a major plus IMO
He genre of the book he writes is dependent on what genre you say you like.
He also sends letters to you if you marry him
Okay and also some things I dislike
His liked gifts, the easiest one is pomegranates, which cost like 6000g to grow a tree if you don’t pick the fruit cave. I AM NOT GETTING SQUID INK IN YEAR ONE FOR YOU.
he might be British /j
The fact he has no kitchen but still likes food like lobster, like he is just a mystery. Lives in a cabin, with no kitchen, no washroom (okay no character has a washroom), but still likes the most fancy food out there and has luscious hair worthy of a L’Oréal ad.
Gifting him on rainy days when you don’t have two hearts"
Dimitri propaganda:
“He's chivalrous, he's blood thirsty, all rolled up into one package and calling you "his beloved". Get you a man who can do both.”
“My husband <3 He's schizophrenic just like me and I love him for that.”
"First, look at him. No disrespect to the monster lovers, but even if blonde, blue-eyed hunks aren't your thing, you can't deny that Dimitri is very pretty.
Second, one of the things I love most about Dimitri is how self aware he is of his privilege as a prince (or king) and how seriously he treats the gravity of his position. He has a strong sense of duty and wants to be a good leader who listens to and provides for the needs of all of his people. This includes the citizens of Duscur, who were nearly wiped out by his own countrymen in (mistaken) retaliation for his father's murder. His commitment to righting this wrong is one of his primary goals in life.
Third, while he is more than capable of crushing a man's skull with his bare hands, under normal circumstances he absolutely wouldn't. A large part of the reason why his fall is so shocking and devastating to witness is because by the time he snaps, we know that Dimitri is actually a kind and gentle soul who hates violence and understands that even his enemies are human. Even at his worst point he still recognizes this, which feeds into his extreme self loathing. He extends compassion and forgiveness to others but struggles mightily to allow himself any forbearance for his own mistakes. He's kind quite literally to a fault, as his empathy is both his greatest strength AND his biggest flaw and I find that as heartwarming as it is heartbreaking."
"Okay first for all the "he needs therapy haha funny" (and its annoying corollary "I can fix him") comments, 1) don't we all? And 2) you can't romance him til end game when he is in a much healthier place due to his own choice to change his priorities and the support of you and his friends. He battles daily with severe mental illness in a repressed society that doesn't talk about it. And on multiple occasions tells people that it is okay to feel your feelings and offers support despite his own struggles (I include that bc that is a date able trait to me). If he's not your fave that's cool, but leave the ableist language out of it pretty please 💙💙 Okay reasons he should be your boyfriend now!!
He calls you his beloved and wants to hold your hand 🥺
His happiest moments in game are when you smile
And in conclusion, he is shaped like a dorito and has a huge cloak to snuggle you up in"
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diamondwerewolf · 3 months ago
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A Quick Chat About AZ
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Which won't be quick at all.
I've talked for a little about coming to understand Lysandre, and now I'd like to talk about AZ, who is still somewhat of a mystery to me. We know of his backstory, but what I'm missing is what defines his personality. We don't speak with him enough in game to know it, so I had to do some digging around so I can form some assumptions. Most of this post will be me using Canon and Non-Canon [But still official] sources to get a grasp on what kind of man AZ is, just in case we don't get more information about him in Legends ZA.
-I want to know what he's like, because I want to make more artwork with him. ^^'-
Before I get into what I've found, I want to first talk about a character who I think is clearly defined, by his sheer simplicity. That's right,
It's Larry.
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Larry, for example, has very clear likes and dislikes. He's an overworked, professional, brooding, middle aged man, who has respect for rules and simplicity. He dresses plainly, and uses relatively ordinary or normal type pokemon. He's vocal and assertive of his preferred lifestyle, to the point of stubbornness [ of which is only thwarted by his desire for his paycheck]. He also loves food and the pursuit of an extraordinary meal. Despite his introvert-like demeanor, he's shown to be friendly, deeply contemplative, and hiding a quirky, dad joke-like sense of humor.
With all of this, I can extrapolate what kind of decisions Larry would make if I were to put him in a new non-canonical situation. And, I can also define where I'd like to bend or add on to his personality in my own form of fandom play.
--
Now, back to the main topic. All of this to digest with a grain of salt. I also apologize in advance if I hop around a little between sources.
AZ, I can only assume is underutilized because of his grand age. 3,000 years old, means 3,000 years of knowledge or a direct eye witness of history. He wondered in search of his best friend, gradually witnessing the world transition from ancient to modern. Chances are, he can answer regional mysteries that gamefreak wouldn't want to touch upon. So, he's here one moment, and then gone the next after serving his key purpose in the game narrative.
Which brings me to all of the other official items I looked into and some thoughts on his intelligence. I watched his appearance in the Pokemon Generations Episode 18: The Redemption. [ no one asked but i think i prefer the japanese voice much more ] And I also was given a data bank to look through Pokemon XY game script.
AZ build the ultimate weapon. Though, if he had any assistance with it, it's unspecified. IF I RECALL CORRECTLY, in the recent XY development leaks, Sycamore, Lysandre, and AZ were all the same character, before the role was properly divided into three. Still, I'm under the impression, that AZ wasn't just a king, but a well respected researcher.
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There’s research material on the bookshelf [In Lysandre Labs] “The king was proud of the technology he had used to bring Kalos prosperity, but he couldn’t help but use it in a way that had never been intended... AZ, the man who was king, disappeared.”
I think, AZ being keenly intelligent, is an easy assertion to make. He could build and operate complicated machinery, and probably still can. There are even more side notes I can make about his more complex understanding of pokemon. I don't think I have the clarity of mind to pull out even more examples, so I'll use just this one:
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AZ does have a Golurk of unspecified age on his small team. I wonder...is it possible he built his Golurk himself? There are many pokadex entries stating the creation of, and ancient use of pokemon in these old cities. AZ appears to understand the infinite energy that dwells within pokemon well enough to contribute to the society he ruled over. I don't think 'artificial' pokemon construction is beyond his understanding, if he knew well enough that he could bring one back to life.
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Moving along.
After building the weapon to revive his friend:
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"...his rage still had not subsided."
I absolutely love this flashback sequence. I love how they portrayed the rawness of AZ's emotions. The unnerving look in his eye as his horrific choice forms. You get the sense that he truly did just...snap.
Which Makes Me Wonder: How tethered is AZ to his emotions? Is he like Lysandre, who appears to allow himself to freely feel his own anger and frustration, letting it drive him to obssession. Does he have a slight sense of entitlement, too? Entitled to take the world's problems and other lives in his hands. If so, did he leave that wicked part of himself behind?
AZ is royalty. He's a former -literal- king during a time of war, unlike Lysandre who's a more metaphorical king during a time of general peace. That may be an excuse for him easily taking on, beyond important, harrowing decisions. I wonder if this was the most difficult point in his reign. That aside, AZ doesn't seem to be concerned with that title living in modern day.
He doesn't demand that he should be treated like his former title. I'm going to make another assumption that he has let that go a long time ago. He struggles with being forgiven, maybe even struggles with caring about himself. He's traded his old royal regalia, a robe, golden arm cuffs, and golden neck piece, for old, worn, patchy clothes. He doesn't care about his royalty, or his clothes, and AZ never makes any mention that I can remember about his own height.
None of it appears to matter to him. Only "where is she?"
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Speaking of.
AZ's ability to hold on to hope is...something.
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When yeh know for certain sure yeh ain’t never gonna meet again... Well, yeh can give in and accept it. But if yeh think there might be a chance, and yeh wander the world for 3,000 years tortured by that flicker of hope... I tell yeh, sprout. I couldn’t have stood it.
I don't think I could have stood it either. To not give up on his Floette for 3,000 years, to muscle through that torture until finally you meet again. What would you call the kind of 'grit' that would make you endure something like this? In the XY manga, he's plagued by nightmares of his past. He described his ordeal officially in the game as 'endless suffering'. Is it a certain kind of stubbornness? A kind of unconditional love? I'm not sure... AZ, in another one of my opinions, has got to be one of the series' most strong willed characters. You can't survive 3,000 years with weak resolve. He can't die of old age, but..well...
...
Despite the horrors he's capable of, he's got a gentle quality to him. I like the contrast, between a giant and a pokemon so delicate and tiny. I'm sure the juxtaposition of AZ and his Floette is purposeful, and in itself helps inform of his character.
This is from the Pokemon Adventure XY Manga, and isn't canonical, but...look at him. I found him greeting Trevor's Flabebe so sweet. He's respectful to the children also, and doesn't belittle them in the slightest.
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His smile. He calls her beautiful, and she is! He has some stony expressions, but also some very softened ones in Anime, Game, and Manga. He hasn't lost his ability to smile after all this time. Which is nice...
OOF, I've been writing this for a long while, so I'll wrap things up. I can't trust myself to write a comprehensive summary, like Larry, at this time, but I hope to have one later. Again, I'm hoping Legends ZA will provide more before I start my true 'blorbo madness'.
Here are all of my assumptions in a list AZ is:
Extraordinarily Intelligent, capable of making and operating dangerous technology. I believe he wasn't just a King, but a contributing engineer/ researcher.
Deeply emotional, allowing himself to openly cry, feel anger, and sorrow. Despite his intelligence, his emotions can cloud his judgement. THOUGH, he may have much more emotional maturity now. [ i find it interesting both he and lysandre are allowed to shed tears ]
Strong of will, or is a person of unwavering conviction.
Stern, somewhat of a languisher, but gentle.
That's all I have for now. Let me know if anyone else has thoughts!
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accio-victuuri · 6 months ago
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HAPPY 27th BIRTHDAY WANG YIBO 👑 !!!!
What a year this was for our Bobo, before crossing into 27 we saw him go through so many things and i’m proud to see him rise above it all with grace. We met Chen Shuo, Yang Zhen and Wei Ruolai. Each characters showing his strength as an actor and how versatile he is. Allowed fans to see him and interact with the Yibo they only see on screen. With the films, he has established himself as a stable actor who can pull in box office numbers and still deliver quality. Wei Ruolai, truly introduced him to a new set of audience and fans and proved that he is someone that the industry should watch out for in terms of talent. No matter the drama that came after, what i’m thankful for is that no one can take away how much this role showcased what he is capable of. if there is anything we know of WYB, absolutely no one can question his acting skills anymore. We saw him dance for the Asian Games, combining both modern and ancient — later on, we found out that WYB himself pulled in resources to make the promotions work.
He went to different parts of the world to promote his partnerships with Chanel, Lacoste and Loewe ; establishing himself as an international influence. He attended various events towards the end of the year and wowed us with his presence — picking up awards, the most important one being nominated for a Golden Rooster Award. He gave is 2 amazing songs : Bystander & Everything is lovely, which showed his versatility as an artist. Amazing magazine covers. Valuable partnerships with brands. Excellent stage performances — special mention to his SDC hiphop stage.
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A definite highlight would have to be him being an Olympic Torchbearer, bringing pride to his fans and his country. Finishing the filming of Mermaid/Intercross, Doing the Pangolin Documentary, Starring in a discovery channel documentary, racing cars, learning to play tennis and whatever else that he does that we don’t know. There is really no stopping him. Despite the noises bringing him down, in true wang yibo style, he will always shut them all up once his projects are out.
He deserves every bit of recognition he is getting and i can only hope that in the next couple of years — more people will see the side of Wang Yibo that we all love. I’m so grateful to be celebrating yet another year of life with WYB, and i shall remain for as long as I can. it’s tripping me up so much how fast time has gone by that he is already 27. But one thing is for sure, he is still the same WYB. He is still that sweet, earnest and hardworking yibo we have come to know.
Yibo, my only wish is that you can continue to do the things you love and try whatever it is that takes your interest — Also that you remain healthy & energetic. This world is so much better with you in it. ✨✨✨
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petrichorblue94 · 7 months ago
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What really shocks me is that the more tfota books I read (I count the extended universe here), the more I realise that Jude was actually incredibly lucky. The world she lived in was deadly, and not in a haha the main character is actually gonna be left unscathed because they’re the main character way.
I first realised that when I was reading about Wren. My girl was physically and psychologically tortured since she was a child in practically a very Ramsey Snow / Reek kind of way. She was permanently disfigured by her own parents’ torture methods, she was left to believe that she could escape and then captured, like a cat and mouse game. She was made to think her adoptive parents despised her and were horrified of her monstrous nature but they were really just bewitched.
Her biological mother turned out to be the most evil of them all, sacrificing her soul not once but twice.
I’m just reading the Modern fairytales but Kaye is basically every middle class child’s worst nightmare ; or at least mine).
Like Jude’s story is actually the best. Even her twin Taryn lives in a psychological horror, she married a fucked up narcissist who promised her love and respect and adventure and it turned out he just made her do drugs and get involved in orgies and he nearly fucked (and later nearly killed) her sister and Taryn killed Kim the same way her adoptive father killed her birth mother and then she raised his son alone, and then she fell in love again and the guy was turned into a tree.
I mean when you look at it on paper (pardon the book pun) my girl Jude was raised into the gentry, she was Madoc’s favourite daughter and he spent most of his free time training her to be his successor in a world ruled by Oak as king and him as regent. She has her family and they make up despite all the fucked up things do to each other. She married the high king (and it was a rare love match!!) and becomes respected and feared. She has only known the rich world of the gentry in Elfhame, whereas Wren was homeless in the real sense of the word for YEARS, and Kaye was a school drop out who was couch surfing with her singer-wannabe mum and her prospects were living with her gran, working in a gas station and then maybe getting pregnant by her former bully Kenny and living in a trailer in the middle of nowhere like her friend Janet and maybe becoming an alcoholic like her mam and doing drugs (I’m still halfway through Tithe).
Like even when she became queen with Oak by her side as king consort, Wren’s kingdom was nowhere near as rich and golden as Jude’s. There was darkness seeped into it even when the ice was gone.
Since the cruel prince is after Kaye’s books, we know she ends up becoming Roiben’s consort so it’s definitely a better life than being a teen mum living in a trailer and working in a gas station… But she’s still a chess piece in the game of politics (that Jude becomes a master of) since she was nearly killed by the undersea and Jude had to go and avenge her in the Wicked King.
Like yeah, Jude had a shitty origin story but she became golden if that makes sense. She was never truly touched by the grit and the grime of what was happening around her and to her, she just adapted, pivoted and kept winning.
And she was genuinely so in love with the world of Elfhame that you can see everything around her through the tint of her fascination. Whereas with Wren everything looks ugly and sad and with Kaye everything looks messy and confusing.
Which is why I think she’s Holly Black’s most beloved heroine. I just hope she doesn’t get killed off in the new books cause you never know 100% with Holly.
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c-e-d-dreamer · 8 months ago
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Top Shelf Love: Chapter 2
A/N: Has anyone else been watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs? Just Me? I haven't decided yet who I want to be in the final ever since my Canes have been eliminated... Anyways! All this to say that it's been fun writing this hockey fic while watching hockey, and I hope everyone enjoys reading this latest chapter :)
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Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part
Cassian
Despite having played the Kraken in Seattle once last season, Cassian has to admit it’s pretty nice being on the home side of Climate Pledge Arena. Sure, playing in a place like Madison Square Garden most nights was a dream, one he held since he was just a boy, but there’s something to be said about all the upgrades and modernity that a newer arena has to offer.
Following the director of team services out of the elevator, they come to a set of frosted glass doors, the Kraken logo split between the two. As they step closer, the doors automatically slide open, revealing the locker room, and Cassian barely swallows down an impressed whistle. It’s certainly spacious, even for an NHL locker room, LED lights and the Kraken logo displayed on the ceiling. At least, he won’t have to worry about stepping on it here.
“Valdarez.”
Cassian turns just in time to see a tall man walking toward him, blonde hair cut short and beard trimmed to just a stubble along his cheeks. His grin is wide and easy, revealing the chipped upper tooth on the left side. It’s easy enough for Cassian to recognize the captain of the team, Fionn Donoch. He still remembers watching him lift the Cup back when Cassian was just a teen.
“Wanted to make sure I came down to meet you myself,” Fionn continues, holding out his hand for Cassian to shake.
“Are you sure you didn’t just want to come down and remind me who’s really in charge here?”
Fionn laughs good naturedly at the joke, slapping Cassian on the back. “You’re going to fit right in here. So, what do you think so far?”
Cassian glances around the locker room again, thinking back to the practice facilities he’d toured earlier. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice, all the fancy arena upgrades.”
“Definitely not the worst place to call home, right? Listen, they don’t have the ice down yet, but I can still show you if you want.”
At Cassian’s nod, Fionn leads the way out of the locker room. They pass through a glass lined hallway, Fionn explaining how during game days, it’s lit with blue LED lights, how fans typically line the other side, banging the glass and getting the boys going. Then they’re stepping onto the home bench and the arena floor, and Cassian gets to appreciate what the view will be from ice level. He turns slowly in a circle, taking in the stands, the scoreboards, the afternoon light streaming through the wall of windows.
He takes a deep breath in, and for a moment, he can almost hear it. The blare of the goal horn. The roar of the crowd. He can almost feel the cool bite off the ice against his cheeks. Can almost feel the surety, the peace that comes from having it beneath his skates, from the comfortable weight of a stick in his hands.
“Have you met with Miller yet?”
Cassian shakes his head of the daydream, turning back toward Fionn. “Yeah, I met with the whole staff earlier this morning.”
He and Fionn continue to talk shop, talk the system, before making their way together toward the garage and their cars. Or, in Cassian’s case, his rental car until he’s able to secure a new apartment and get all his things shipped out. He supposes he should check in with that realtor Eris connected him with again.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out,” Fionn tells him, offering another easy grin as he hits the remote of his car. “Even if it’s just food recommendations.”
“Thanks, but I’m actually meant to be meeting up with a friend after this. She’s going to give me the whole tour of the city and all that.”
“She, huh? Let me know if I need to pass her number along to the wife. I don’t think they’ve done dues yet for this season.”
Cassian chuckles at the teasing smirk on Fionn’s face, the implication of his words. But then he thinks back to Nesta. Thinks back to the photos of her Instagram, to those icy blue eyes and that damn expression on her face. He can’t deny there’s been a low, simmering heat in his gut all morning, sparking at the fact he finally gets to meet Nesta, finally gets to witness that fire in person.
“Only if I’m lucky.”
~ * * * ~
Large, looping letters declare Grumpy & Sunshine Books above the door, the window display to the left of the door decked out with an artsy display of flowers and hanging book pages. Cassian glances down at the phone in his hand, the Map displayed on the screen there, confirming he’s in the right place. With a nod, he pockets his phone and presses forward, stepping through the front door.
The scent of paper and ink greets him as soon as Cassian steps inside, along with something vanilla. A candle that he can’t see? There’s a table display of books immediately inside, and Cassian casts them a cursory glance, taking in more looping text and what looks to be a variety of cartoon characters on the covers. He weaves around shelves and more table displays, past a wall of vines and succulents and a pink neon sign declaring Most ardently.
And at the very center of the store, Cassian finds the register and the woman he’s looking for bent over a book behind it. Cassian had known Nesta was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen since he first saw her picture, but seeing her in person is another thing altogether. Seeing her standing there in front of him almost has him wanting to drop down to his knees right there in the middle of the bookstore.
Her hair is braided back in an intricate updo, but with her head bent down, a strand of golden brown hair tumbles down her temple and kisses her jawline. Deft fingers brush the hair aside and behind her ear absently, further revealing the sharp cut of her cheekbones. When she turns the page of her book, her lips part, eyebrows jumping, and Cassian thinks he might give anything to see her eyes properly, to see if they spark and flare along with whatever she’s just read.
He’d give anything to have those eyes on him.
“Reading on the job?”
Nesta snaps her book closed, her attention finally rising, and Cassian gets his first look at those blue eyes he’s so often thought about. They’re a similar shade to Feyre’s, sure, and yet so different somehow. They seem to burn with a silver fire that leaves the cool shade of them looking like a storm roiled sea, especially when that gaze narrows on him, her lips pinching into a scowl.
Cassian doesn’t let the reaction deter him. If anything, it only stokes the embers in his own chest, beckoning him into the flames. He closes the final few steps between them, leaning against the register counter with a smirk.
“Nesta Archeron,” Cassian greets.
“Cassian Valdarez.”
His name falling from her lips shouldn’t sound as sweet as it does, especially with the clipped tone she speaks it, but a zing of electricity still skitters down Cassian’s spine nonetheless. What would it take to have her saying his name again? To have her sighing it? For him to taste it?
“So you do know me, then?” Cassian drawls, daring to glance down at her book. A Calanmai Secret. “And yet, you couldn’t answer any of my texts.”
Nesta crosses her arms, leveling him with a hard look that Cassian is sure is meant to send him running. “Most people would take that as a hint. Yet here you are. In my bookstore.”
“Feyre said you’d show me around the city.”
“Feyre asked me to show you around. I don’t recall ever agreeing.”
“I’m starting to think you’re the grumpy on the sign outside,” Cassian chuckles softly, hoping to at least earn the hint of a smile at his teasing joke.
Instead, Nesta settles both hands on the register counter, leaning forward. “Buy something. Or get out of my store.”
Cassian tilts his head, taken back by the harsh reaction. He’ll clearly have to work harder to get her to smile or laugh. Challenge accepted. Already, he can hear Az’s voice in his mind, making a dry comment about his taste in women. Already, he can see the way Rhys would roll his eyes.
“Fine,” Cassian says easily with a shrug, stepping back from the register counter. “The historical section is…?”
Nesta merely points to a bookshelf to his left, so Cassian turns his attention toward it. He grabs the first book within reach, the spine a blue and green. He’s intent on striding right back up to Nesta and proudly purchasing the book, but then he catches sight of the cover. Of the shirtless man that takes up the cover, the model’s skin clearly oiled up so every ridge of muscle is on full display. A tartan hangs low on the man’s hips, and just above the man the title is scrawled, Highland Escape.
“This… is not what I meant.”
Rather than direct him toward the historical fiction section, Nesta crosses her arms across her chest, her lips tugging up into a smirk. And, oh, there’s a real challenge blazing in her gaze now, that fire that had called to Cassian even in photo form sparking in her blue eyes. It’s beautiful, that look on her face, daring him to play.
He glances around the bookstore again, this time with fresh eyes. The greenery on the walls, the different table displays, the pink neon sign with an Austen quote. Of course. He’d heard of bookstores like these, ones that specialize in romance novels.
When he looks back toward Nesta, she has that same daring expression on her face, her smirk already starting to grow as though she’s won. As beautiful as it is, as beautiful as she is, Cassian refuses to back down. Heat flares through his chest as he fights back a smirk of his own, more than ready to keep this game of theirs going. He clears his throat and turns back to the shelf, sliding the book in his hand back into place. He takes his time reading the different titles along the spine before finally settling on a different book, tugging it free and sidling back up at the register counter.
“I’ll take this one,” Cassian tells Nesta with a grin, sliding the book across to her.
Nesta hums, glancing down toward the book he’s selected. Viking Bride. Cassian waits for the mask to slip, to see a hint of a reaction take over her face, but she’s nothing but cool and silent as she rings him up. The transaction complete, she tucks his receipt into the cover of the book, sliding it back over to him.
“Have a nice day,” Nesta offers, her tone mockingly sweet.
Cassian reaches for the book, his fingers brushing along Nesta’s own until she snatches her hand away. “You know, I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.”
Nesta snorts and rolls her eyes. “Whatever gave you that impression?”
“Oh, yeah, Nes, you’re a real ray of sunshine right now.”
“Don’t call me that.”
There’s no stopping Cassian’s smirk at earning that reaction, a little tidbit he tucks away, even as he continues, “but it’s not really fair, is it? I mean, you don’t even know me. This is literally our first time ever meeting. What could I have possibly done?”
Nesta’s face falls, a new emotion flashing through her blue eyes. It’s certainly the cool, haughty mask slipping away, but not how Cassian wanted. He frowns at the sudden change, but before he can even begin to attempt to decipher what that emotion is, what that expression could mean, Nesta turns away from him.
“If I give you a tour of the city, will you leave me alone after that?”
~ * * * ~
Nesta
Nesta doesn’t know what she expected. She knew, in the back of her mind, that despite never responding to a single one of Cassian’s texts, that that wouldn’t be the last of things. But she can’t say she expected him to show up at her bookstore. Didn’t expect him to stride in with a smirk and an easy confidence, to almost proudly buy a viking romance novel.
She wants to hate that he still looks as good as the last time she saw him at Feyre’s engagement party. His hair is loose, dark curls hanging around his temples and tumbling down to his shoulders. His eyes are a hazel as bright as Nesta remembers, a maze of greens and golds that seem to spark with a flickering flame. And that cocksure smile has no damn right being as attractive as it is.
She wants to hate the way he didn’t back down from her ire, from all the quips she threw his way. Instead, he only seemed to rise to meet her, seemed to enjoy it as though it was a game between them. She wants to deny the way his fingers brushing against hers sent a shiver ricocheting up her arm and down her spine.
And he doesn’t even remember her.
She’d felt stupid that night in New York, but she feels even more stupid now. She certainly hadn’t expected an apology or anything, but this is like a slap in the face. And on the heels of that churning feeling roiling through her gut is anger. It burns red hot through her veins, flaring like a wildfire that licks between her ribs.
“If I give you a tour of the city, will you leave me alone after that?”
Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, that cocksure smirk finally slipping. “You want me to leave you alone?”
“What are you doing here?”
Nesta’s attention snaps toward the new voice, finding Emerie standing just inside the door, her brown eyes narrowed on Cassian.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Cassian answers easily despite Emerie’s clipped question. He holds his hand out toward her to shake, but Emerie doesn’t take it. “I’m Cassian.”
“I know who you are,” Emerie tells him airily, stepping behind the register counter.
She reaches out as she passes, fingers curling around Nesta’s wrist and squeezing lightly. It’s a silent question out of view of Cassian’s eyes, to check that she’s alright. Nesta meets her best friend’s gaze and offers the smallest hint of a nod.
“You do? Are you a hockey fan, then?” Cassian asks, unaware of the silent conversation happening without him.
Emerie snorts at the implication. “No. There’s only one hockey fan in this bookstore, and it’s not me.”
“I feel like you don’t like me either…” Cassian comments quietly, tilting his head slightly. “Is everyone the grumpy on the sign? You might want to consider a new name if there’s no sunshine.”
“Gwyn is the sunshine, and trust me when I say you’re lucky that you don’t have to deal with her.”
Nesta has to press her lips together to keep from laughing at the way Cassian’s eyes widen slightly in horror. It’s certainly not a misplaced expression. Gwyn was one of Nesta’s first friends when she first moved to Seattle, and while the redhead is one of the kindest people Nesta has ever met, she’s also the fiercest. Beneath all the bright smiles and easy laughs there’s a viciousness that can and will be released, especially when it comes to those Gwyn cares about.
“I don’t know. You said there’s one hockey fan, right? And I’m guessing it’s this Gwyn. Maybe I do want to meet her. We can talk all things Kraken.”
“Gwyn’s a Nashville fan,” Nesta informs Cassian. “They’re her hometown team.”
And dedicated to her hometown team she is. Nesta doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the first time she and Gwyn went to grab dinner at a sport’s bar, the first time witnessing the way Gwyn ranted and shouted at the large television on the wall.
Nesta waits for Cassian’s face to drop again at this newest tidbit, but what she doesn’t expect is for his grin to grow wider and stretch across his face, for the golds of his eyes to glint. He looks like a child that just stepped foot into a candy store, like this is exactly what he was waiting for, and it has Nesta frowning in confusion.
“My brother plays for the Preds. Azriel. You know, if she wanted, I could probably get her a signed jersey.”
“Gwyn would absolutely lose her mind,” Emerie comments under her breath.
“And what’s the price for this signed jersey?” Nesta dares to ask, squinting suspiciously at Cassian.
Cassian shrugs a shoulder, all faux innocence. “Well, you clearly don’t want to give me a tour, so how about just dinner? You can give me a list of your recommendations then.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“A dinner for a jersey. Sounds like a fair trade to me. Don’t you think, Nes?”
Nesta sighs, shaking her head. “Fine. One dinner and in exchange, you’ll get a Nashville jersey signed. By the whole team.”
Cassian’s smile twists into a smirk, gaze flickering and darkening as he holds his hand out across the register counter. “It’s a bargain.”
Nesta already knows she’s going to regret this, but she reaches forward, sliding her hand into Cassian’s. His fingers curl around her own with ease, his grip surprisingly gentle. His hand is so large compared to her own, practically swallowing hers whole, and the callouses slide against her palm when she pulls her hand back. She has to forcibly shove down a shiver before it can skitter up her spine in reaction.
“Let’s go, then,” Nesta says, gathering up her things where she stored them beneath the register.
She and Emerie share one final look before Nesta leads Cassian out the door and back onto the street. Thankfully, it’s a short walk to one of the local restaurants that focuses on PNW cuisine, a good introduction for Cassian to the city and area.
“So, I have to ask,” Cassian begins once they’re seated at a small table near the back of the restaurant, the waitress vanishing with their drink order.
“Ask about what?” Nesta asks, not even bothering to look up from the menu even though she already knows what she’s going to order.
“About the bookstore.”
Nesta’s gaze flicks over the top of the menu in her hands, eyes narrowing. “Some people like to read, meathead.”
Cassian tips his head back and lets out a booming laugh, earning a few curious looks from the other tables. “Did you really just call me a meathead?”
“I’ve seen you play, seen you fighting other players on the ice.”
“Are you watching my games, sweetheart?” Cassian asks, leaning across the table to smirk at her, those hazel eyes of his glinting in amusement again.
Nesta rolls her eyes, leaning forward as well to sneer, “you wish. I told you, Gwyn is a Nashville fan. I occasionally watch a game with her.”
Cassian hums, and Nesta bristles at the way he continues to eye her. Something about those hazel eyes is almost unsettling, as though he’s looking through her in a way no one ever has. It takes everything within her not to shift in her seat, to simply turn her attention back to her menu.
“History.”
Nesta looks up again with a frown. “What?”
“History,” Cassian repeats, leaning back casually in his chair. “That’s what my degree is in.”
“I thought hockey players got drafted at eighteen? That’s what Gwyn has always said at least.”
“That’s true, but not everyone joins the NHL right out of the draft. I played for my college team for two years before I was finally called up.”
“And what? You magically finished your degree in two years?”
Cassian laughs again, this time a low chuckle that’s surprisingly warm, that practically wraps itself around Nesta’s limbs. “Lucky for me, there’s this really amazing thing called online classes.”
“Oh.”
Nesta doesn’t know what else to say to that, but thankfully, she’s spared when their waitress returns to their table, ready to take their food orders. When she steps away again, Nesta no longer has her menu to use as a distraction, has nowhere else to look except at the man sitting across the table from her. The low light of the restaurant cuts shadows across his cheeks and jaw, the candles on each table flickering in and deepening the hazel of his eyes. The large span of his hand is on full display as he curls his fingers easily around the bottle of wine he ordered, filling Nesta’s glass before he fills his own.
“You never answered my question,” Cassian tells her, setting the bottle back down. “About the bookstore.”
“I told you, some people enjoy reading. Myself included.”
“Yeah, but I remember Feyre talking about how you went to law school, that you’d be terrorizing courtrooms and making everyone regret going up against you. So, what happened? How do you go from lawyer to bookstore owner?”
The urge to lash out, to make a snapping reply that diverts the conversation, claws up Nesta’s throat. She rarely talks about it, about him. The reason she made the move to Seattle in the first place, leaving a gaping wound as big as the distance between them with her sisters. The reason the dream she thought she had, the dream she swore she always wanted, shattered between her fingers like glass, shards cutting deep and leaving her bloodied. The reason she retreated and fell back into the shadows, that Emerie and Gwyn had to pull her out.
There are days where it all still feels so raw, no matter how much time has passed. Days where a sickening feeling will churn through her gut as soon as she opens her eyes. Days where she can still hear his voice, still feel his hands. Days where the voice in her mind morphs into her own worst thoughts, into her mother’s clipped, cool tone.
“My life fell apart, and I decided to open a bookstore with my friends,” Nesta finally answers with a derisive drawl. “Happy?”
Cassian’s face falls, lips tugging down in a small frown. “What does that mean?”
Nesta doesn’t want his pity. It’s the one thing she hates most, people looking at her with pity in their eyes. As though they feel sorry for her, as though she’s weak. When she finally walked away, finally got out, she swore to herself that she would never be weak again, and she’ll be damned if she starts now.
“Last I checked, I don’t have to tell you my whole life story. I answered your question, did I not?”
“Nes–”
“You get one dinner as part of our bargain, remember? Do you really want to ruin it?”
Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata
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volostogekiss · 11 months ago
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you are always my life (1/??)
A few years after post-game. Established relationship. GN!reader. Unspecified home region, so up to you wherever you’re from! Summary: Not long after you return to your present-day world, Volo shows up, too. (Various shorts about domestic, modern-day moments with Volo. Probably will continue more of these at some point!)
clothes shopping – (day one.)
One of the first things that you decided when it had finally, totally, completely sunk in that Volo had also made it to the present day, was that he desperately needed new clothes.
He couldn’t be walking around in a kimono during winter. The weather had just started turning icy. Besides that, it was clear from the moment he’d appeared beside you that people were unfortunately intrigued by him. You had too many thoughts about why, although you tried to disregard them. It was hard to neglect just how attractive Volo was though, and that he stood quite obviously a head above most others. You’d also lent him an overcoat so that he could accompany you outdoors, but it didn’t fit him properly, and that only worsened the staring.
Then, there were the comments as well.
A group of college students passing by spent much too long gaping at Volo. You even heard one of them ask if he was some kind of cosplayer. Another was raising their phone for a photo, and that was when you tugged Volo away.
If you weren’t in such a rush to find suitable clothes so your lover wouldn’t freeze, you might’ve turned back around and snapped at them, but you had more important things on your mind. Like how you’d just been reminded that Volo would probably need a phone, too.
“Ho-oh’s tailfeathers,” you mumbled the curse under your breath.
Tightening your grip on Volo’s hand, you leaned in closer to him and ignored how he blinked back at the students in unabashed confusion.
“I will say,” Volo began as he threaded his fingers through yours, “I’m quite curious to know what a ‘cosplayer’ is.”
You were too busy watching the crosswalk light to humor him, however. “See? This is a crosswalk light. When it’s red, that means we can’t cross, but when it turns green, it means we can go. The flashing numbers mean how long we have before we can’t cross again.”
Volo nodded, keeping pace with you as you hurried down the street. There were plenty of things he didn’t yet understand about your modern world, but he was doing his best to remember all of them, at least.
“Oh, and,” you said with a start, when you made it to the other side, “I’ll explain what a cosplayer is some other time.”
“Perhaps it’s not something you need to worry about at all,” answered Volo immediately, his brows furrowing. He’d noticed that you were on-edge. It was obvious that his presence was concerning you to the point where you were stressing yourself out.
You shook your head. A knowing smile flitted onto your lips, despite how anxious you seemed. “Everything about you—whatever’s on your mind, whatever you want—that’s all I think about. You’re bound to have more questions anyway, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“We all know what happens when you have unanswered questions,” you laughed shortly, some amount of your anxiety melting away when you saw him huff and roll his eye at you.
“You’re quite unfair, my love.”
“And you’re not?”
However, you were unprepared for the smirk he gave you then, followed by the swift peck to your forehead.
Volo chuckled at your startled reaction. “Hm, I suppose I am.”
“I’ll get you for that one,” you promised him as you harrumphed. “But later.”
Without waiting for him to reply (you did hear him laugh), you headed into the department store. There was still plenty for you to do, after all.
The doors whirred shut behind the both of you. The warmth of the heater at the entrance was certainly welcome, and instinctively, you gathered Volo’s cold hand between yours, rubbing it slowly. He’d been preoccupied with the splendor of the building, but noticing what you were doing, he turned to you, a gentle smile on his face. Looking at him with a similar, tender expression, you left a kiss upon his fingertips, then dropped your linked hands back to your side.
Volo squeezed your hand. You squeezed his in reply.
Then, squaring your shoulders as if you’d just received a much needed burst of energy, you announced, “Okay. Let’s get you some new clothes.”
While you rode the escalator up a few floors, you explained what the machine was, what to expect when buying clothes, and that you were lucky you were visiting during early afternoon on a weekday. Fewer people were about, and you didn’t have to deal with fighting crowds of shoppers like on weekends.
Volo seemed amused by your final point, especially after you’d likened it to the days when Anthe released a new line of clothes. It was a bit nostalgic though, to think of the time now past you both, but Volo was just glad that you were with him now.
He was pondering the memory, nearly lost in his own musings, until you told him that you’d reached the boutique floor.
With another word of encouragement, you smiled at him again—really, all Volo needed was you, and oh, your smile, how that made him practically forget where he was—and walked toward the storefront.
An employee, dressed in a trimmed suit, bowed and greeted you both as you approached. However, when he straightened upright again, you saw his eyes widen, and one of his hands nearly lifted to cover his face.
“Oh my goodness,” he said, shocked, whether by Volo’s mismatched clothes or the fact that he was alarmingly handsome, you didn’t know.
Hesitantly, you waved at him before urging Volo inside the boutique. You wanted to pretend as if you hadn’t really been there at all.
After sequestering yourselves at the back of the store, you finally breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the staff had deduced you could manage without any of their help, as they left you alone where you were. It was better if you avoided any questions, even those unspoken, and simply focused on Volo.
He was still holding your hand. He was also regarding you with a mixture of worry and kindness, so much so that your heart trembled.
You looked away, feeling an inexplicable nervousness, as if you were once again surreptitiously harboring a crush on the man.
“If you see something you like, just let me know. We’re looking for warmer clothes for now, but it would be nice to get something you want to wear,” you rattled off, trying to settle your heart again.
The look on his face changed as he dipped in close to you and whispered, “I would much rather trust your judgment about what looks best on me.”
“That may be a bit difficult…”
“Why? Is it because you prefer nothing on—”
“Volo!”
He just laughed at you. But you knew what he was doing. He was trying to take your mind off your troubles.
“I jest, my love.”
Sighing with a smile, you swung your intertwined hands forward, a sign you’d like him to walk with you as you inspected the displays. Although you’d been worried about Volo since he’d quite literally been dropped into your world only a few hours prior, you had to admit that you enjoyed this moment with him. Shopping together wasn’t really something you had often done in Hisui. It was different then, much different, despite how you’d already lived with one another for years, in your little home.
Briefly, you wondered what had happened to it.
“What about this?”
You were glad that Volo had brought you out of your reminiscing. He was here with you. That was what was important.
“Oh!” Your attention was now fully on the sweater Volo was holding. “That’s exactly what I was thinking we should look for first!”
Volo tilted his head meaningfully. “We think quite alike.”
You eyes softened.
“Of course we do.”
Reaching out, you took the sweater from him and examined it carefully. It was a pale cream color, with light blue buttons that reminded you of the markings on Togekiss. Your lips twitched upward. Of course, you probably weren’t the only one thinking of the resemblance.
You peered at the tag on inside its collar and at the rack it’d been on. “It’s a good brand, Altaria and Blu.”
“And what does its name mean?”
“They’re a family of Pokémon—Swablu and Altaria. They kind of look like clouds, but they’re actually birds.”
“Hm. I would like to see a Pokémon like that one day.”
Draping the long sweater over your arm, you returned to perusing the other options while chatting idly. It was peaceful—more than you’d thought it’d be. Maybe it was because your nerves had eased themselves a little. It also helped you overlook how much this all might cost you. You could manage. Anything, for him.
For the most part, however, Volo defaulted to letting you choose his clothing for him, despite how often you tried to get his input. It was nice that he trusted you to do so—even if he was right beside you, observing what you selected for him. Once more, you couldn’t help thinking of how regular something like this could be for the two of you.
A normal life. Maybe not like the one you’d had in Hisui, but one where you’d be together, forever. You smiled at the thought.
Volo seemed pleased, too. Maybe it was because he liked what the two of you had picked. Similar sweaters, warm cargo pants, a variety of button-downs, and some comfortable, stay-at-home clothes, among the other clothing necessities like undergarments and shoes. (The sandals he was wearing had to go.)
…Or maybe it wasn’t really the clothes, but the principle of it all. That he was just as happy to be with you as you were with him. You caught him staring at you fondly—once when you were deeply scrutinizing a trendy pair of track pants and then when you were describing the different fabrics often used for modern-day clothing. He only smiled at you when you’d asked if something was wrong, before saying that he simply loved hearing your voice.
You had to wait a moment before you could actually make your way to the register to pay.
The exchange with the cashier went about as you’d expected though. They seemed curious about Volo, but you appreciated that they didn’t say anything. They did grin when you mentioned that Volo would be wearing some of the clothes you’d purchased out.
You sighed as the two of you left the boutique. You were glad that everything had gone smoothly, even if you’d been particularly worried on the way here.
Taking Volo’s hand again, you checked the time, then said, “We’ll go shopping for more clothes on another day, but for now, this should hopefully work.”
“I was worried about you.”
“Huh?” You looked up at him, surprised by the unexpectedness of his remark.
Volo plucked the bag of clothes you’d been carrying and hooked it over his elbow. He glanced at you softly. “You were worried about me throughout the entire afternoon. I was unsure of what I could do to help.”
“Volo…”
He smiled at you, and then he was the one guiding you down the sidewalk.
“But there’s no need to worry about me. As long as I am with you, I will always be all right.”
Your heart fluttered. How could he always say such things like this…?
“More than all right, surely,” he continued, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. “No amount of words describe how fortunate I am to have you with me.”
Volo leaned in and laid a kiss upon your cheek.
“I’m just happy to be here with you, my love.”
grocery shopping – (a few days.)
“What’s that?”
Stopping your shopping cart, you turned back to Volo. He was slightly bent over the open-top freezer stretching alongside you and pointing at something within one of the containers.
You poked your head over the edge of the freezer. When you saw what he was pointing at, you couldn’t help smiling.
“They’re frozen pancakes.”
Volo scrunched his nose. He seemed unsure of why they were the way they were.
“The amount of frozen food that is here is… astounding.”
You held back your laugh. It was cute to see Volo like this.
“Of course, you can make pancakes without having them frozen. Maybe we should make some tomorrow morning.”
Volo nodded, moving to you again. He laid his arms over yours as you turned to steer the cart, his chest pressed against your back.
“Lovely.” You felt his voice rumble up your spine, and his warmth was almost instantly overwhelming.
Why did it always feel like you were falling in love with him all over again?
“…You’re lovely,” you told him, tilting your head back to look at him with a grin.
Volo laughed, and before you had a chance to react, he stole a kiss from you.
cooking – (two weeks.)
You were exhausted.
Work, to put it plainly, had sucked.
What you needed now was a chance to relax, to forget about everything that had happened, and ready yourself to repeat it all tomorrow.       
What you didn’t know you needed, however, was waiting for you when you opened the door to your apartment.
“I’m home,” you called out tiredly. You kicked off your shoes, unbothered by how they’d flown somewhere across the front entrance, and barely remembered to slide on your slippers before ambling farther inside.
Something smelled nice—a savory, light scent. Maybe Volo was cooking?
“Welcome back!” came the sing-song voice from the kitchen.
Immediately, a smile flickered onto your lips. Oh, this man…
Poking his head out from down the hall, Volo waved at you. He rounded the corner, and you noticed he was also wearing an apron, confirming what you’d thought earlier. You wanted to run to him, to laugh, to scream about how glad you were to see him, but instead, you could only offer him the weak smile that was already on your face.
Volo covered all the ground to you, then embraced you gently. It was wonderful to feel him so close to you, with his fingers tracing soothing circles into your back.          
“Another rough day?”
“Mhm.”
“Hm. Perhaps I should ask Giratina to… pay a friendly visit to a select few.”
You laughed. That sounded nice. Giratina, scaring your terrible boss and awful coworker.
“Maybe. Maybe, Volo.”
Volo smiled. The two of you wandered back to the living room, where you finally saw what Volo had been up to. An array of dishes decorated the dining table, with a hot stew at the center of it all.
“It’s just something simple,” began Volo as he cradled your hands in his own, “but I thought it might be a nice to have a fuller meal.”
Warmth flooded your heart.
“I love you,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him.
He was more than glad to accept your kiss, and then he answered, an echo of your words,
“I love you, too.”
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erisweekofficial · 5 months ago
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We're so excited to be highlighting @utterlyotterlyx tonight! 🥹
They write Eris x Reader oneshots and multi chapter fics at also include a Reader x Azriel romance too. Right now we're really enjoying A Fate Inked in Starlight!!!!!
And if you want something shorter, we really recommend Can't Keep My Hands to Myself and Dark Paradise! 🔥
There are so many great fics, so please check them all out!
Read under the cut to learn @utterlyotterlyx's favorite fics they've written and how Eris is finally stepping up to become High Lord
What is your favorite fic you've written and why?
I'd probably say my favourite Eris fic was the first one I wrote when I started writing again - it would be Wicked Game, or it would be my Eris series, The Fox and The Fawn (incomplete) - Wicked Game because I am a key angst writer and I just love the depth to Eris in this fic, it really makes the reader feel his pain in a way that they haven't before, it is a sad ending but it is something I'd consider doing an alternate ending to. With The Fox and The Fawn, the series just really goes in depth with Eris, him being a bit stand-offish but keeping an eye on the reader from afar, slow burn romance where Rhys is the villain which I'm still perfecting the last two parts for!
Which fic was the most challenging and why?
Most challenging Eris fic would be Can't Keep My Hands To Myself - probably the most difficult because it's a Modern!Eris fic and even though it's short, I did struggle in capturing him from a modern day angle but it went down a treat!
What are some of your favorite fan theories about Eris?
My favourite theories of Eris are that he is just as misunderstood as Rhys once was but because he has no 'Inner Circle' then people really do believe that he's a villain, and I also LOVE the thought that he's actually the good guy in the Mor storyline - I think he's been super abused all of his life and just really wants to A) save others from that life, and B) have someone to understand where he's been and where he's going, and to understand that the mask he wears isn't who he really is.
We’ve just gotten word that Eris is on his way to become High Lord at this very moment. How is he getting rid of Beron?
Ugh this is a difficult one, despite how awful Beron is, I don't think that Eris would take it upon himself to end his life, I think he would maybe plant the seeds of treachery and either let someone else do it and turn a blind eye, or turn the other High Lords to his side where they could maybe force Beron to step down.
Please give us a name for one of his brothers and one of his hounds!
I think one of his brothers would be called Phoenix, and I think one of his dogs would be called Maple - runt of the litter but his favourite just because of how loving and doting she is, like she can read his mind and know what comfort he needs because she knows that he doesn't have anyone physically there by his side.
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mistific · 2 months ago
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⋆˚✿˖° Streaming ! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
╰┈➤ Pestering the Tokito twins to join your livestream! and the the Tokito twins are tired of ur bs and you're frustrated with their constant rejection :3
Tokito twins x Gn!Reader ( Can be seen as platonic or romantic, no label stated / applied. )
Modern AU, Streamer reader, SMAU ! Angst - Comfort
Warnings : reader is implied mentally unhealthy and unstable. Reader is also pretty dependent on the twins, scroll if you potentially find this uncomfortable !
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With a huff, the streamer rolls their eyes, chucking their phone and it softly lands on their creamy white comforter that wrapped around their bed's mattress. A petty expression of annoyance plastered on their face, they grumble under their breath.
"It isn't the first time getting rejected by the twins, so why the hell am I so irritated this time?!" They mumbled in irritation, once again huffing. "Whatever. Try again next time!" They exclaimed in a defeated manner, ultimately giving up.
As a streamer, it was inevitable for them to start a streaming session despite having a premade plan for the twins, turning the cam on and flashing a "The stream will start soon!" screen, they mumbled yet again. "The twins are so frustrating.."
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"Even after a week they still refuse..?! How infuriating..!" The streamer screamed in the pillow to muffle their voice as to avoid disturbing your poor neighbors who constantly hear their screams and curses whenever watching or playing a horror game with their beloved viewers.
Letting out a loud groan, they flip themselves to their back and they faced the ceiling with a clearly irritated and disturbed expression, they let out a slow exhale to calm themselves down.
"Damn. I'm both lonely AND miserable." They mumbled to themselves with a ghastly expression, sighing and closing their eyes. The streamer had decided to skip streaming, apparently, y/n purely only planned the stream with the twins, convinced that they would finally accept their proposal with the stream.
In truth, the streamer kept pestering the twins to join their livestreams, simply because they felt lonely. Despite being a surprisingly well-known streamer, they didn't have a "ride or die" person, other than the twins.
Y/n loved the twins, truly. Meeting them since the diaper days, since the stressful high school days, they've always chose to stay by the twin's side. Consistently interacting with them, consistently hanging out with them, they wanted to show the twins and their connection with each other to the whole world.
Well at least that's what they wanted, and it seems the twins doesn't, in y/n's perspective.
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Yn was more or less aware that they haven't been streaming, or they haven't been interacting with people, when the twins mentioned that made yn feel more worse than they originally were.
With a heavy sigh, they shut their phone off and let it drop, screen face down to their bed's comforter. "yn, darling? It's your mother. You haven't ate your breakfast yet." Their mother calls, "I'm fine, ma! I'll eat it in a while!" They exclaimed to their mother's call of concern, their mother audibly sighs in which the streamer easily picked up. "It's already the afternoon, baby. Why don't you come out for lunch?" Their mothered offered.
Yn sighs in exhaustion even if they hadn't even been out recently. Pulling up the covers, they groaned. "No thanks, ma! Don't wanna eat!" They shortly replied, their mother sighs in defeat as well. "Alright then. You should go out again, the twins must miss you. I'll be down, alright?" Their mother says before slowly walking away from their child's room.
"Do the twins even like being with me at this point..?" They mumbled out loud with a sigh, grabbing her phone and letting her screen wake up to 0 text messages from the twins and a bunch of notifications from social media. "At least the media goes out their way to constantly ask about my well being.."
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The hours passed, Muichiro had no response from the streamer. The hours turned into days, and the day turned into a full week once again.
The fight had not only affect yn, but also affect Yuichiro. Both sides knew they were both wrong, yet they were too prideful to admit anything.
Yuichiro wanted to apologize, but he knew what he was doing was the best for the streamer, his execution just left a deep scar to yn.
yn wanted to apologize for being a hassle, but they knew Yuichiro was rude with his words, so they let things be, letting Muichiro be the mediator once again in their dispute.
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✮ ⋆ ˚。 Finish !⋆。°✩ made by MISTIFIC please do not repost anywhere else!
╰┈➤ MASTERLIST HERE
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qiwoomi · 2 years ago
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✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚ MOONLIGHT SERENADE ˚。⋆ ༘˚✧
masterlist
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featuring: husband! alhaitham x fem! reader
genre: fluff, domestic, modern! au, married life (not proofread)
summary: in a night full of doubt and worry, the moon will never miss to cease those feelings away.
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You have been acting weird ever since Alhaitham is home, and he didn't know why.
He recalled his interaction with you before he was off to work.
You were clinging to him like a koala, not wanting to let go. As much as he wants to stay, he explained to you that he already had too much day offs that he can't oblige to your request anymore, unless he don't mind being unemployed. Nonetheless, you are understanding enough (even though it takes you a lot of willpower to let go) as you pout, fixing his necktie and eventually receiving and giving your husband a goodbye kiss.
So what could it be?
Alhaitham thinks that it would be impossible for you to sulk after seeing you off, as he knows your personality a little too much (and possibly more than you are).
Moreover, if you were, you would still talk to him, but rather with a visible pout and a subtle frown, trying to convince him to ask you why you were upset. But this time, you neither talk or look at him.
It didn't help that Alhaitham had been looking forward to come home to you, his work as a professor in the Akademiya draining him. To his disappointment, he came home without you running up to him as you shower him with kisses and hugs like you always do.
He was not the type to give up, especially when it's about you. After a whole brainstorming session in the shower, he concludes that it would be better to communicate with you.
His needs for your affection and love taking over his patience.
"Love? Are you asleep?" He languidly approaches you, sitting on his side of the bed. He just finished showering, towel hanging low around his waist.
You purposely turn your back from him beforehand, knowing you, you wouldn't be able to continue ignoring him if you were to be face to face with his sculpted and toned body (despite being married to him for almost 4 years).
You didn't reply.
Being a smartass that he is, your husband knew that it was on purpose. Alhaitham however, takes this as a challenge.
Two can play that game. A sly smirk was plastered on his face as he approached you closer.
You tried to convincingly look like you're sleeping, not wanting to get caught with your act. You can already imagine the endless teasing that comes out of his mouth.
The mattress was squished as Alhaitham advances towards you.
You can feel his breath in your face. If only you knew, Alhaitham can see through your facade. Though, he decides to indulge in your little play, despite being deprived of your attention. There's always room for a little fun. Besides, he knew you couldn't keep it up for too long.
Your husband stares at you for a good few minutes, admiring you at the same time. Unfortunately, the long silence makes you snort. As you opened your eyes, only to see your only and one husband with an amused smile on his face. "Are you done?" He scoffed, a grin still visible on his pretty face.
Somehow still not giving up, you swiftly turned your back to him. Little did you know, you can't stay mad at him for a long time, not when it's him. It almost felt like he's a witch. A witch that knows every spells to woo you, to melt you into his heart.
If this is a fantasy story, you're sure that you wouldn't even survive a second after encountering him. No. Not when you wear you heart on your sleeve. Perhaps the words of the elders are true, love can be blinding, addicting even. But how could you refuse the temptation to welcome him into the doors that is your heart, when he's the one who brings you warmth, joy and even home?
As if reading your mind, he suddenly says, "Fine. I'm sorry love, I came back late again. Will you please talk to me?" Even though you can't see his face, you can already imagine the frown and pout on his face. "Hm. What's the magic key?" You mischievously replied, finally facing him again. There's a glint in his eyes, indicating that he already knew the answer.
Alhaitham pulls you into him, not even hesitating, as he search for your eyes. It's as if he's communicating through his teal eyes, shifting his gaze towards your lips, inching closer. He kissed you, albeit too passionate, giving you a clue or even a message. That he has been missing you, perhaps more than you could imagine. The kiss lasted for a few minutes, between the kiss is the smiles from both lovers.
Both of you pulled away, catching your breath. You flushed, feeling giddy like a teenager falling in love. "Sorry, it was just a prank. I'm not mad at you love." You suddenly said, filling the silence.
Alhaitham brushed your bangs out of your face, tucking them behind your ears. "Don't ever do that again, I feel miserable." He replied bluntly, pinching your nose. An endearing laughter comes out of your mouth, as he finds himself smiling at you.
"In one condition."
"What is it?"
"You need to make up for the whole time you've been away."
"You don't even have to ask for it. It's already in my mind anyway."
The moonlight shines through the blinds of your shared bedroom, as if a blessing towards lovers as you both retired for the night.
There is nothing you can ask for than this.
author's note: this has been in the draft for quite a while 🥲 currently going through an alhaitham brainrot
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© @qiwoomi
est. 080323
do not copy, translate and repost my work.
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sherewrytes · 18 days ago
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Love and Gunshots, Eren x Black Reader
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Gang member Eren x Introvert black reader
Summary: In a dangerous urban landscape, y/n, an introverted Criminal Law student, finds herself drawn into the violent world of the Sixx Gang through her protective cousin, Onyankopon. When she locks eyes with Eren Yeager, a hot-headed gang member, a twisted game of desire and danger begins.
As Eren becomes obsessed with y/n, he threatens to unravel the fragile balance Ony has maintained to shield her from their brutal lifestyle. With loyalty tested and violence lurking at every turn, the lines between love and danger blur, leading to a dark climax where the heart proves just as lethal as a gun.
Genre: Dark Romance/Crime Modern au
Warnings: Graphic violence, drug use, smut, obsession
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Previous
Chapter 8: Breaking point
I felt numb as Erwin led me out of the room, away from the chaos. My mind was racing, still trying to process everything I had just witnessed. The last few hours felt like a blur—one moment I was dealing with the shock of seeing Eren and Ony so close to killing each other, and the next, I was being dragged into a hell I never signed up for.
I glanced over at Erwin, who kept a steady pace, his presence calming despite everything around us. The weight of the situation settled deeper into my chest as I realized how much danger I was in, how much I had been pulled into this world of violence, drugs, and lies.
Erwin stopped outside the door of the warehouse, looking back toward me. His eyes softened slightly as he spoke. "You’re safe for now, Yn. I need you to stay away from this mess. For your own good."
I swallowed hard, the words not reaching me fully. Safe? How could I feel safe when I knew my life was tangled up with these people? When I knew what was happening back inside, what might be happening to Ony, to Eren... to me?
"I don’t belong here," I whispered, more to myself than to Erwin. "None of this is my fight."
Erwin gave me a look, his lips pulling into a tight line. "It’s not your fight, but it’s been made yours. Now, you need to be smart. Don’t let yourself get dragged deeper than you already are."
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I could keep that promise. The pull of this world, of Eren and Ony, felt like a gravitational force I couldn’t resist, no matter how hard I tried. But I had to try.
Erwin sighed, looking around cautiously before turning back to me. "I’ll take you home, but you stay low. Don’t reach out to them. Not now."
I opened my mouth to say something but stopped myself. What was there to say? That I was scared? That I didn’t know how to escape? Instead, I just nodded again, more to him than anyone else. I had no other choice.
As Erwin started the car and we pulled away from the warehouse, I glanced at my phone, a mix of texts from Ony, from Eren, from people I didn’t even know. And yet, none of them mattered as much as what was happening right now. How much farther could I go before it all shattered?
And then the thought hit me: What would happen if I did choose a side? Would it save me or destroy me?
When the car pulled up to my house, my heart sank as I saw my mom and aunt standing by the door, their expressions serious. But it was the figure beside them that made my stomach drop—my father. I hadn't seen him in years, and the last time I did, things were far from good between us.
I stepped out of the car, still in shock. "What is he doing here?" I muttered to myself, though the question was clear. I didn't expect him to be a part of this situation, especially not after all this time.
My mom looked at me, her face strained with worry. "Yn, your father wants to talk to you. We... we need to figure out what’s going on. This situation is dangerous, and—"
"You really think I want to be involved in this?!" I cut her off, the frustration bubbling over. "I didn't ask for any of this! I don't need his help now!"
My father stepped forward, his face hardened but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes—concern? Guilt? I couldn’t tell. "Yn, we need to talk. About everything," he said, his voice low but firm.
I took a step back, shaking my head. I hadn’t prepared for this. Not today. Not with everything that had happened, with the chaos, the violence, the lies. "What’s there to talk about?" I shot back. "You’ve been gone for years. You don’t get to come back now and act like everything’s fine."
My father’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he glanced at my mom and aunt, as if silently asking for permission to continue. My aunt was quiet, her eyes scanning me with a mix of sympathy and concern, while my mom stood by, wringing her hands nervously.
I wasn’t sure how to feel anymore. The weight of the past few hours, the violence I had seen, the decisions that had been made without my consent—it was all crashing down on me. And now, my father... He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t make it go away.
“I’m not part of this world, Dad,” I finally said, my voice breaking. "I don’t know what you think you’re here to fix, but I’m not going back to any of it."
My father opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. I could see the frustration in his eyes, but there was something else there, too. Regret, maybe. But it didn’t matter now. He wasn’t going to be able to change anything, not when everything had already spiraled so far out of control.
I turned away from him, walking inside, hoping the distance would help me clear my head
"My dad glanced at me, his face unreadable, before asking, 'Is Levi running shit?'
I froze at the mention of Levi's name, my heart skipping a beat as my dad described him in that all-too-familiar way. It was like the world had shifted again. "Excuse me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My dad's eyes narrowed at me, his tone stern.
"Short guy, white, temper—shorter than he is..." My father continued, his gaze flicking to the car still parked outside.
My mother, who had been standing in the background, sighed in resignation. "Yes, that’s the man who was here earlier," she said, sounding almost defeated.
I turned to look at my mom, then back at the car, and that’s when I saw it. Erwin. He’d opened the door and stepped out, strolling over to my dad like it was no big deal. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my mind was racing. This was impossible.
"Erwin, get yuh mother cunt out here, man." My dad’s words were harsh, but there was something about the way he spoke that made me feel like I was missing a huge part of this story.
Erwin didn’t even seem phased. He just walked up to my dad like they were old friends, a casual smile on his face. "Reggie, what’s good?" he said as if it were any other day.
This was a nightmare. I couldn’t process it. I had known Erwin for years, sure. But him being connected to my dad, to them, this—this was a whole different level. My world felt like it was turning upside down, and I couldn’t breathe for a second.
What the hell was going on here?
I stood there, completely frozen, unable to speak, as I watched my dad and Erwin interact. The realization slowly dawned on me: this wasn’t just some random group of criminals I had gotten involved with. It was bigger. So much bigger. My father knew them—had worked with them. Erwin knew my father. I was in deeper than I’d ever realized, and I had no idea what to do next.
Was I even safe anymore?
I stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to believe what was unfolding before me. My dad and Erwin talked like old friends catching up after years apart, completely ignoring the turmoil brewing inside me.
Erwin reached into his pocket, pulled out a joint, and passed it to my dad like it was a regular Sunday afternoon. "Like old times," Erwin said with a smirk.
My dad took it without hesitation, lighting it up and taking a long drag. The way they were so casual about it all made my stomach churn. How could he sit here and act like this when my life was spiraling out of control?
"So, what’s the deal with Ony?" my dad asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I hear his name mixed up in this mess."
Erwin raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the car. "What’s the deal with Jarmark?" he shot back.
My dad rolled his eyes, his tone heavy with frustration. "He’s in jail, Erwin. You know this."
Erwin’s gaze shifted to me, and my heart sank. The look he gave me wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t comforting, either. It was assessing, like he was trying to figure out what I’d do next. "Reggie," Erwin started, turning back to my dad, "she’s on Levi’s radar. And you know he’s crazy as fuck."
That statement hit like a sledgehammer. I clenched my fists, fighting the wave of panic threatening to take over.
"On Levi’s radar?" my dad repeated, his face darkening. He looked at me then, his eyes narrowing as if seeing me in a new light. "What the hell did you get yourself into, girl?"
I opened my mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words. How was I supposed to explain? That I hadn’t gotten into anything? That it was all Eren? That I was just trying to live my life, but these men kept pulling me into their chaos? My dad wouldn’t care. To him, it wouldn’t matter how it happened, only that it had.
"Don’t look at her like that," Erwin said, flicking ash from his joint. "This ain’t her fault. Blame your nephew and that stubborn-ass Jaeger kid for dragging her into this."
"Jaeger?" my dad muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. He shook his head and took another drag. "I should’ve known. Levi’s favorite little psychopath."
"Exactly," Erwin replied. "And now she’s in the middle of it. Levi’s been watching her like a hawk. You know how he gets when he sets his sights on something."
My dad cursed under his breath, pacing in front of the house. He stopped abruptly, pointing at Erwin. "You tell Levi to back off. That’s my daughter, and I won’t let him use her to settle his shit."
Erwin shrugged, his expression neutral. "You think I control Levi? If I could stop him from being Levi, the world would be a better place."
I couldn’t hold back anymore. "What does he want from me?" I snapped, my voice shaking. "Why can’t you all just leave me alone?"
Both men turned to me, my dad looking surprised while Erwin simply raised an eyebrow. My dad stepped closer, his tone softening slightly. "You’re mixed up in something bigger than you know, baby girl. I’ll fix this. Don’t worry."
His words were meant to be reassuring, but they felt like a lie. How could he fix this when he was part of the same world that was tearing my life apart?
My mom’s voice cut through the tension like a razor. "How exactly do you plan on fixing this, Reggie?" she asked, arms crossed, her glare sharp enough to cut steel.
My dad sighed, rolling his eyes in irritation. "I told you to keep her out of this neighborhood," he shot back. "You didn’t listen, and now I gotta clean up a mess I didn’t even start."
"Don’t you dare put this on me!" my mom snapped, stepping forward. "You’ve been absent for years, and now you wanna play the blame game? No, Reggie. This is on you, too."
They locked eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around their argument. I wanted to disappear, to pretend I wasn’t standing there listening to my parents argue over my life as if I wasn’t even present.
Erwin, leaning casually against the car, watched the exchange with a bemused expression. My dad turned to him abruptly, his frustration spilling over. "Where the fuck is Ony’s ass, anyway?" he demanded.
Erwin shrugged, taking another drag of his joint. "He’s with Levi," he said nonchalantly. "Handling the aftermath of all this bullshit."
My dad frowned, his jaw tightening. "Handling it how? What’s that short bastard doing to him?"
Erwin smirked, but there was no humor in it. "What Levi always does—making sure no one steps out of line again. Ony’s in it deep, Reggie. You might wanna have a word with your nephew before Levi does something permanent."
I felt my stomach drop at his words. The thought of Ony suffering because of this made my chest ache. Despite everything, Ony had always tried to protect me, even if it meant sacrificing his own peace.
"You better not let Levi go too far," my dad warned, pointing a finger at Erwin. "That boy may be my nephew, but he’s still blood. I won’t let Levi take things too far."
Erwin chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "You don’t let Levi do anything, Reggie. You know that better than anyone. The best thing you can do is stay out of his way and hope he doesn’t decide Ony’s too much of a liability."
My mom gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Reggie, do something! You can’t just let this happen."
"I’m working on it," my dad snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Damn, woman, give me a minute to think!"
I wanted to scream at all of them, to tell them to stop talking about me and Ony like we were chess pieces in their game. But I stayed silent, my heart pounding as I tried to process everything.
Erwin finally stood up straight, tossing the joint onto the ground and stomping it out with his boot. "If you’re serious about fixing this, Reggie, you better move fast. Levi’s patience is already razor-thin."
He glanced at me, his gaze softening just slightly. "You might wanna stay out of sight for a while, kid. Things are gonna get uglier before they get better."
With that, he turned and walked back to the car, leaving me standing there with my parents and a thousand questions swirling in my head.
Ony’s mom started pacing the yard, her hands wringing as she muttered under her breath. “My son... turning out just like his father,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought I raised him better. I thought—”
“Stop it,” my dad, Reggie, cut her off, his tone sharp. “This ain’t the time for this.” He turned to me, his intense gaze pinning me in place. “Tell me, Y/N. Why? How the hell did you even meet this boy, Eren?”
I froze, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. My dad stepped closer, his voice quieter but no less commanding. “Answer me. How’d you meet him?”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “It was on the porch... here,” I admitted reluctantly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Reggie’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at me like I’d just confessed to a crime. “This porch? Right here?”
I nodded. “Yes... I had just come back from class. Ony was out here... smoking with Eren.” I hesitated, unsure if I should continue.
“And?” Reggie pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. “What else?”
I glanced at my mom, who looked as if she wanted to interject but didn’t. I took a deep breath and finished, “They were cleaning guns.”
The yard went deathly silent. My dad’s expression darkened as he took in my words, his jaw clenching. Ony’s mom froze mid-step, her hands flying to her head. “Cleaning guns?!” she shrieked. “In front of my house?!”
Reggie held up a hand to stop her, his eyes never leaving mine. “So you saw him, what? Thought he was charming? Thought he was a nice guy?” His voice was dripping with disbelief.
“I didn’t think anything at first!” I shot back, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “He was just... there. I didn’t know who he was or what he was about. Ony introduced us, and that was it.”
Reggie let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “That was it, huh? That was enough for you to get mixed up in all this shit?”
“It’s not like I asked for this!” I snapped, my voice rising. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Dad! I didn’t ask to be dragged into your world or Ony’s world or Eren’s world. I just... I just wanted to come home from school, and then—”
“And then you made a choice,” Reggie interrupted, his voice hard. “You chose to let him into your life. You chose to let him pull you into this mess.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “I didn’t know it would be like this,” I said quietly.
Reggie sighed, running a hand down his face. “Of course, you didn’t. None of you kids ever do. And now look at where we’re at. Ony’s in Levi’s crosshairs, Eren’s a damn loose cannon, and you’re... you’re caught in the middle of it all.”
My mom finally spoke up, her voice trembling. “Reggie, stop blaming her. She’s just a girl. She didn’t know—”
“She should’ve known better!” Reggie snapped, cutting her off. “But now it’s too late for that. The question is, how the hell are we gonna get her out of this?”
Reggie paced the yard, his frustration radiating off him in waves. He turned back to me, his finger pointed like a dagger. “You might live in the hood, Y/N, but you ain’t from it. Do you even know what kind of shit the 6ixx gang is up to? Do you even know where all this started?”
I stared at him, unsure how to answer. His words stung because they were true. I didn’t know the depths of it all—only fragments, bits and pieces from overheard conversations and Ony’s cryptic warnings.
Reggie tilted his head back, letting out a bitter laugh toward the night sky. “Lord Father, help me here tonight,” he muttered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath before looking back at me. “You think this is some petty beef, Y/N? Some schoolyard bullshit that’ll blow over? You’re playing with fire, girl. And the worst part is, you don’t even know how hot it burns.”
“Dad, I—”
“No,” he interrupted sharply. “You don’t get to talk. Not yet. Let me tell you what you’re tangled up in.” He gestured wildly toward the street, the porch, everything. “This ain’t just about Eren or Ony or whatever little drama you think this is. The 6ixx gang? They’re in deep—drugs, guns, money laundering, you name it. They don’t play fair, and they don’t forgive.”
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. The weight of his words settled on my chest like a brick.
Reggie continued, his voice rising. “And you? You’re just some college girl to them. You’re a pawn. A pretty little pawn they’ll use to get what they want. Do you understand that? They don’t care about you, Y/N. Not like I do. Not like your mom does.”
I glanced at my mom, who was standing silently to the side, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Reggie,” she started softly, but he wasn’t done.
“No, don’t ‘Reggie’ me,” he snapped, turning back to her before focusing on me again. “You think Levi gives a damn about your degree? About your future? He’ll chew you up and spit you out, just like he’s done with everyone else who’s crossed him. And Eren? He’s no better.”
I flinched at his harsh tone, tears prickling at my eyes again. “I didn’t ask for this,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“But you’re in it now,” Reggie shot back. “And you need to understand what’s at stake. This ain’t just about you anymore, Y/N. It’s about your family, your future—everything.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Eren's pov 
I was exhausted, every part of my body aching from the endless assault. The pain was sharp, brutal, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore. All I could think about was Y/N—her face, her voice, her refusal to choose between me and anyone else. She was the only thing that kept me grounded in the chaos.
I stole a glance at Ony. He looked just as defeated as I felt. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes empty, like the fight had drained him of everything. I could feel his pain, the weight of everything that had led to this point. And then there was his mom—her reaction had hit me harder than I expected. The way she slapped him, the way she let him go so easily. She had always treated him like the problem, like he was the one who’d brought all this mess into their lives.
I didn’t get it. Ony was just trying to protect what was his, just like me. And yet, here we were, being punished for things that weren’t entirely our fault. I hated how she treated him, hated how she kept pushing him away when all he was trying to do was survive. The look in his eyes when she slapped him—it was a mixture of hurt and resignation. He wasn’t going to fight her anymore. But I wasn’t like him. I couldn’t let go. Not yet.
As I stared at him, I started to understand a little more of what drove him, what drove me. We were both stuck in this endless cycle, bound by loyalty, by love, by the need to control something in a world that constantly felt like it was slipping away. And Y/N... Y/N was that thing for me. She was my reason to keep fighting, even when everything else was falling apart.
Levi had been right about one thing—if she wasn’t part of my world, I’d have nothing left. But I couldn’t let that happen. Not with her. Not when I knew she was the only thing that could give me a sense of peace, even if it was fleeting.
The room was silent except for the occasional grunt or mutter. My head was pounding, but I couldn’t shake the thought that everything was spiraling. Levi had pushed me to my limit, and I had barely managed to hold onto my sanity.
I looked over at him, leaning against the wall with that smirk plastered on his face, like this was all a game. And maybe to him it was. But not to me. Not to Ony.
And especially not to Y/N. She deserved better than this mess. She deserved peace.
But I wasn’t sure I could give her that anymore. Not with how things were going.
Levi’s smug face made my blood boil, but I stayed quiet. I didn’t have the energy to snap back at him anymore, not when my body was already broken and my mind felt like it was teetering on the edge. I glanced at Ony again, his head hanging low. His silence was unnerving, and it made me wonder if he was giving up entirely.
But giving up wasn’t in me. Not yet. Not while Y/N was still out there, dragged into all this chaos because of me. Levi might’ve been trying to make a point, but I wasn’t about to let him win. Not when it came to her.
Levi finally stood straight, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “Well, this has been fun, but I think you two have had enough for today.” He turned to Reiner and Jean. “Get them cleaned up and back to their places. We’ve got bigger shit to deal with tomorrow.”
Reiner gave a curt nod and moved to grab me, but I pulled away, struggling to my feet. My legs felt like they were about to give out, but I wasn’t going to let them see me weak. Not now. Not ever.
Ony slowly stood too, his movements stiff and deliberate. He didn’t even look at me as Reiner helped him walk toward the door. I could feel the tension between us, thick and suffocating. We were both pissed—at Levi, at the situation, at each other. But there was something unspoken in the air, a shared understanding that neither of us wanted to acknowledge.
As Jean shoved me forward, I couldn’t help but think about what Levi had said earlier—about Y/N being the source of all this chaos. It wasn’t true, not entirely. This wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I brought her into this world, made her a part of something she never asked to be part of. And now, she was paying the price for it.
When we got outside, the cool air hit me like a slap to the face. It felt like freedom, even if it was temporary. I looked up at the night sky, the stars barely visible through the city’s haze. For a moment, I let myself breathe, let myself feel the weight of everything that had happened.
Jean shoved me again, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Keep moving, Yeager. You’re lucky Levi didn’t put a bullet in you tonight.”
I didn’t respond. What was there to say? He was right. I was lucky. But luck wouldn’t last forever.
As we approached the cars, I caught sight of my reflection in the side mirror of Reiner’s jeep. The bruises, the dried blood, the swelling—it all stared back at me, a painful reminder of how far I’d fallen. My face didn’t even look like mine anymore, just a mess of pain and regret.
I stopped in my tracks for a moment, unable to tear my eyes away. The person staring back at me wasn’t the Eren Yeager I knew. He looked weak, broken, defeated—everything I swore I’d never be. It made my stomach turn, the bitter taste of failure sitting heavy on my tongue.
Jean noticed me lagging and shoved me hard. “Move it, Yeager. You don’t have time to admire yourself.”
I almost snapped at him but caught myself. What was the point? I had no fight left for Jean, for Reiner, for anyone. All I could think about was the reflection, the bruises, the way Levi’s words echoed in my head. You like breaking things, don’t you?
Maybe I did. Maybe I always had. But looking at myself now, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to put the pieces back together. The more I stared, the more the reflection felt like a stranger—someone I didn’t want to know, someone I didn’t want Y/N to see.
Reiner yanked open the jeep door, and Jean shoved me inside. The cold leather pressed against my back, and I leaned into it, closing my eyes to block out the reflection. It didn’t help. It was burned into my mind, just like everything else.
In the silence of the car, I could hear my own breathing, shallow and uneven. My ribs ached with every inhale, my arm throbbed with every beat of my heart, but none of it compared to the weight in my chest. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d already lost everything. And the worst part? It was all my fault.
I glanced at Ony sitting on the curb outside the warehouse, his head hanging low as he toyed with the gravel beneath his feet. He looked like a ghost of himself, a man who’d just been gutted and left to figure out how to piece himself back together. His shoulders were slouched, his usually sharp gaze now dulled, and I could tell the weight of everything that happened was crushing him.
I thought about his mom throwing him out, the slap she’d landed on him echoing in my mind. Sure, he had his own spot, but anyone could see being with his family meant something to him. He carried them in everything he did. It was obvious. Hell, it was probably why he’d even tried so hard to keep Y/N out of this mess in the first place.
For a second, a flicker of something like pity tried to surface in me. But I shoved it down as quickly as it came. I couldn’t feel sorry for him. Not when I was sitting here just as broken, just as beaten—physically and mentally. And definitely not when Y/N was at the center of it all.
This wasn’t some accident, some random twist of fate. Ony and I both knew the risks, knew the game we were playing. And if he thought he could keep someone like Y/N away from me, he was wrong. She wasn’t his to protect.
I leaned back in the seat, my gaze still locked on him as Reiner started the car. Ony didn’t look up, didn’t move. Maybe he was as lost in his head as I was, running over all the ways we’d screwed up to get here. Or maybe he just didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t sure which one would’ve been worse.
Connie sauntered over to Ony and plopped down beside him on the curb, stretching his legs out in front of him with a groan. The two sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds the faint hum of the night and the occasional shuffle from inside the warehouse. Connie tilted his head back to glance at Ony, whose face was blank, eyes fixed on a patch of gravel as if the weight of the world had been buried there.
“Yo,” Connie said, breaking the silence. “You wanna crash at mine tonight? Or I can drop you back at your spot if you’re feelin’ it.”
Ony didn’t move, didn’t even acknowledge the question. His fingers idly pushed at the small rocks near his boots, but his focus remained distant, somewhere far from where Connie sat. It was like talking to a wall.
Connie frowned, shifting a bit to lean closer. “Hey, man. You hear me? I said you wanna come back with me or what?”
Still nothing. The silence stretched so thin it felt suffocating, like even the night itself was holding its breath. Ony’s chest rose and fell steadily, but his expression didn’t flicker. He looked more like a statue than a man, trapped in his own mind.
Finally, Connie sighed, running a hand over his buzzed head. He pulled out a pack of rolling papers and a small baggie from his pocket, shaking them in Ony’s line of vision. “Alright, how about this? I roll you a blunt instead. That sound better?”
Ony’s fingers paused for the first time. He blinked slowly, his jaw tightening as if he were weighing the offer. A long moment passed before he finally shifted his gaze toward Connie, his voice low and hoarse when he replied.
“Yeah,” Ony muttered. “Roll me a blunt.”
Connie nodded, glad to get any kind of response at this point. “Aight, bet. Don’t say I never did nothin’ for you.”
He set to work, spreading the rolling paper out on his knee with practiced ease. The weed was already ground up, and Connie’s fingers moved deftly, sprinkling the green evenly across the paper. The rhythmic movements of his hands felt calming, almost therapeutic, and he wondered if Ony felt the same way watching him.
“So, you wanna talk about it?” Connie asked casually, glancing at Ony as he started to tuck the paper and roll it up.
Ony snorted softly, shaking his head. “What’s there to talk about, Connie? It’s all fucked.”
“That’s fair,” Connie said with a shrug, licking the edge of the paper to seal it. “But, like, I’m just sayin’, gettin’ it out might help. You been bottling shit up all night.”
Ony didn’t answer, just leaned back slightly, resting his arms on his knees as he stared ahead. Connie didn’t push it. Instead, he pulled a lighter from his pocket, sparking the blunt and taking a quick hit before passing it over.
“Here,” Connie said, holding it out to Ony. “This’ll do the talkin’ for you if you don’t wanna.”
Ony took it without a word, his fingers brushing against Connie’s briefly before he brought the blunt to his lips. He inhaled deeply, the cherry glowing bright as the smoke curled up into the cool night air. For the first time since Connie had sat down, Ony’s shoulders seemed to loosen, his posture relaxing just a fraction as he exhaled a slow stream of smoke.
“Thanks,” Ony muttered, his voice almost too quiet to hear.
“Don’t mention it,” Connie said, leaning back on his palms with a smirk. “You’re not the only one who needs to chill out after all this shit.”
They sat there like that for a while, passing the blunt back and forth, letting the silence between them grow comfortable instead of heavy. Neither of them needed to say much. The weed was doing its job, and for now, that was enough.
Jean, ever the instigator, leaned against the wall of the warehouse with that signature smirk of his, the one that promised trouble. He let out a low whistle, his eyes darting between Ony and the blunt in his hand.
“So,” Jean drawled, his tone thick with mischief. “What’s Yn think about all this? Bet she’s got a lot to say, huh?”
Ony’s entire body stiffened at the mention of her name. His hand froze mid-pass, the blunt hovering in the space between him and Connie. For a moment, it seemed like Ony hadn’t heard him—or maybe he was trying to convince himself that he didn’t. But then, without warning, Ony shot up from the concrete with such force it startled even Connie.
In a split second, Ony was in Jean’s face, his movements swift and aggressive. His jaw clenched tightly, and his nostrils flared as he stared Jean down. Jean, for all his usual bravado, looked momentarily caught off guard, his smirk faltering as he raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Yo, chill, Ony,” Jean said, his voice laced with a nervous chuckle. “I was just messing around.”
“Don’t.” Ony’s voice was low, dangerous, like a growl that seemed to rumble up from the depths of his chest. “Don’t bring her into this. Ever.”
For a tense moment, it seemed like Ony might swing. The air between them was charged, the kind of thick that made everyone else nearby tense up instinctively. Even Connie, who usually stayed out of these kinds of things, shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between the two.
But then, just as quickly as he’d snapped, Ony stepped back. He ran a hand down his face, letting out a long, controlled breath as if he were physically forcing himself to calm down. His gaze flickered toward the warehouse for a brief second, then back to Jean. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, but the edge hadn’t entirely disappeared.
“Watch your mouth, Jean. That’s family.”
Jean nodded, swallowing hard as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Got it, man. My bad. No harm meant.”
Ony didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his attention toward Eren, who had been watching the entire scene unfold with a knowing look. Ony’s eyes locked with his, and the intensity in them was unmistakable. It wasn’t just a warning; it was a promise. Then Ony glanced back at the warehouse door, his jaw tightening for a brief moment, before looking directly at Connie, who held the now-limp blunt.
“Roll another one,” Ony muttered, sinking back down onto the curb.
Connie raised an eyebrow but said nothing, pulling out the rolling papers again as Jean slunk off, muttering under his breath. The tension lingered in the air, but Ony seemed to retreat into his own thoughts, his fingers tapping against his knee as he stared off into the distance. Whatever was running through his mind, it was clear the storm inside him was far from over.
I leaned against Reiner's jeep for a moment, watching Ony sit stiffly on the curb. His posture screamed tension, the kind that was tightly wound and ready to snap at any moment. A lesser man would’ve backed off, but I wasn’t one to shy away from poking a bear—especially when it was this particular bear.
Reiner had been trying to talk me down, something about picking my battles and how Levi would have both our heads if he caught wind of this. But I wasn’t listening. Instead, I peeled myself away from the jeep and sauntered over to Ony, feeling Reiner’s heavy sigh follow me like a shadow.
Sliding onto the curb next to him, I made myself comfortable, deliberately invading his space. I felt him stiffen the second I sat down, his body going rigid as if bracing for whatever nonsense he knew was about to come out of my mouth. I waited a beat, letting the tension simmer, before I finally spoke.
“I’d call a truce,” I said casually, my voice low and edged with amusement. “But the thing is, I want Yn for myself. And you already know that.”
I watched as Ony’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. His silence didn’t deter me—it only fueled me.
“So how about,” I continued, leaning in slightly, my tone dipping into something dangerously close to a taunt, “you drop this whole big brother act and let me have her?”
The air between us grew impossibly heavier, the kind that pressed down on your chest and made it hard to breathe. Ony’s head turned slowly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a look that could’ve burned through steel. It wasn’t anger—not fully, at least. It was something deeper, something primal, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a flicker of unease.
“What did you just say?” Ony’s voice was low, steady, but it carried a weight that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“You heard me,” I said, forcing a smirk to mask the tension crawling up my spine. “She’s wasted on you. I’d treat her better. You know it, I know it, hell—she probably knows it.”
That did it.
In a flash, Ony was on his feet, towering over me with an intensity that made even the shadows around us seem to shrink away. His fists were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white, but he didn’t swing. Not yet.
“You’re walking on thin ice, Jaeger,” Ony said, his voice barely above a whisper, but it was laced with so much venom it felt louder than a shout. “And you don’t want to see what happens when it breaks.”
I stood, meeting his gaze head-on, refusing to back down even as my pulse quickened. “Maybe I do,” I said, my smirk widening, though it felt more like baring teeth.
Before Ony could make his move, Reiner’s heavy hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me back with a force that made it clear I’d crossed a line.
“Enough,” Reiner said sharply, his eyes darting between the two of us. “This isn’t the time, and it sure as hell isn’t the place.”
Ony didn’t take his eyes off me, his chest rising and falling with barely contained rage. “This isn’t over,” he muttered, his voice like a low growl before turning on his heel and walking away.
Reiner shot me a look that could’ve rivaled Levi’s in its intensity. “Do you ever know when to shut up, Jaeger?”
I shrugged, my smirk returning as I watched Ony disappear into the shadows. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Connie suddenly stood up, stepping into my space with a fire in his eyes. "I thought you guys were chill. Like, is Y/N really worth all this, man?"
His words hit like a punch, but I wasn’t about to let him see how much they stung. "Ony’s not gonna forgive you, man. You know how he is about his family. He’s only doing all this shit for them. Your shit’s got him and his mama on ends."
His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth I couldn’t deny. But instead of letting the tension break me, I threw my head back and laughed—a sharp, bitter sound
I couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up, low and dark, as Connie's words hit the air. His face was scrunched up in that mixture of confusion and frustration, but all I could think about was how badly I’d just rattled Ony. Not just him, but everything around him. Family, loyalty, everything he thought he had a grip on—I was ripping it all away, piece by piece.
I leaned back, giving Connie a look that practically oozed smugness. "You think I care about his forgiveness?" I asked, letting the amusement settle in my tone like a bitter taste. "What the fuck does forgiveness even mean in this world? This is about power, and right now, I hold it. Ony? He's just a pawn in this game."
Connie's eyes narrowed, and I could see his frustration bubbling. He probably wanted to be the peacemaker, the one who made sure everything didn't go off the rails, but that wasn’t going to happen—not on my watch.
"Man, you’re playing a dangerous game," Connie muttered, shaking his head. "Ony’s loyalty runs deep, and you’re testing that line. He's not gonna back down from this."
I shrugged nonchalantly, the weight of my words heavy in the space between us. "Let him try. He knows who I am, and right now, I’m everything he can’t handle." My gaze flicked over to where Ony had disappeared into the distance, no longer looking back. "He’s too tied up in his little 'family' to see what’s really going on. It’s cute, in a way."
Connie looked like he was about to say more, but I cut him off, unable to resist. "And as for Yn? She's mine. No one else gets a say. If Ony’s too caught up in his feelings to protect what’s his, that’s on him. But Yn's not gonna end up like him. She’s gonna end up where she belongs—next to me."
Connie looked ready to snap, his face twisted in frustration, but there was nothing he could say that would change what I was going to do. I'd already decided, and no one, not even Ony, could stand in my way.
"You really think she’s gonna fall for your bullshit?" Connie pressed, his voice rising just a bit.
I let the laughter roll out again, louder this time. "We’ll see. I always get what I want, Connie. Always."
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tacorerooster · 5 months ago
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Long Thread Shadow and Amy Rose. So with Sonic Movie 3 continuing the trend of Sega (or at the very less Sega of America) not giving a shit about Amy Rose, I’m gonna list all the shit she SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN, but was left out of
First off Every 90’s Dic Animated Cartoon (SatAM, AoStH and Underground), Amy around during each one of those productions yet she doesn’t show up, yet Tails and Knuckles both do, even tho A. She came out the same year as Tails and B. Showed up BEFORE Knuckles
Next would-be classic games collections minus Gems & Origins. Amy & her debut game Sonic CD for a long time was excluded from many of the Classic Collections, like Sonic Mega Collection, the DS collection & the Sonic's “Ultimate” Genesis Collection which had Archie & Spinball
Then we get to the modern era and oh boy this is fun. She’s in the 1st Sonic adventure as a playable character, all be it a Slow Character but still relevant, In SA2 she is not playable but has plot relevance, which I will get to later when talking about Movie 3
From there you have Heroes, Shadow, & 06. In Heroes she is a speed type like Sonic & Shadow, but can’t do ring dash or wall jumps & as many fans make clear she has the least popular group. Thank you, Shadow, for being So popular & taking Rouge from being apart of OG team Rose.
In Shadows game she is in 1 level & a cut scene at the end, even tho AMY was who got Shadow to be himself, Shadow Fans forget this. Tails & Knux who he has no history with get many. Heck Maria & Omega get more then Amy, despite being flat characters that exist to prop up Shadow
Next up 06, same before she in 1 level but gets 1 extra mission in the hub world. Whereas Shadow gets himself a whole campaign + vehicles, + his side characters get cooler gameplay than Amy. What does Amy get? Will she’s not long fast & for some reason can turn invisible. Clearly one of them got more attention during development. It also didn’t help Amy’s status as a love interest with Elise being there.
Now for the handheld games and it somehow gets worse for her. Dimps, the developers behind the Sonic Advance Trilogy + the Sonic rush Trilogy DID NOT LIKE AMY AT ALL! She gets to be the slow gimmick character in 1 & is not part of 2 but instead the hidden unlock you get the emeralds for.
In Rush, Dimps, makes Cream the Sidekick/Tails to Blaze even tho in the last game Amy & Cream where the female Sonic & Tails. They even write Amy as being abusive to Cream, A THING AMY WOULD NOT DO. Which is even dumber bc Marine shows up next game as the Tails to Blaze’s Sonic.
Now we have Sonic Battle, which does even less favors. Made by THQ (Not Sonic Team) you a cool Sonic fighting game, you let Amy form a Mother Child bond with a Robot, you give her some GODDAMN COOL ROCK LEE TRAINING WEIGHTS & Cream even says Amy is the strongest Women she knows.
But you have Amy starve herself for Sonic, not treat it seriously or for her friends to show concern. All her Attacks are Sonic driven, she thinks up a physical copy of Sonic to fight Rouge (which Fans use to say she is Crazy or Weaker than Rogue, both of them beat each up)
Finally in Handhelds is Sonic Rivals 1 &2 by Backbone Entertainment & Sega Studio USA. In 1 she is captured at the start ALONG WITH TAILS & saved at the end for Sonic to say he forgot about her & be creeped out by her. She’s not even in 2 so a good thing, can’t mess her up
We than get a period of time where Sonic games only have Sonic & Tails in them. So can’t mess her up like that (Unleashed is great for Her). In Sonic Forces while this point is minor, She along with Knuckles are leading the Resistance but Knux gets to be on the box & Amy doesn't
But I think the most damaging thing would be Sonic Mania. It makes itself out to be a celebration of all the things you loved about Classic Sonic from 1, 2, 3, Sonic & Knuckles, Knuckles Chaotix, Mean Bean Machine, Spinball and CD. But Amy somehow was not in any of it.
Hell I would say that Sonic Mania takes a good chunk from CD but no Amy. You get Amy Doll which explodes when it hugs you. (Get it the joke is that Amy is crazy & explosive and you don’t want her to hug you and should always run away from her ha ha so funny)
Fang Bean and Back get full sprites in Mania not Amy. Oh yeah and Mighty and Ray get to be playable but not Amy. There was even a hashtag for Amy to be added, only for Christin Whitehead or Sega to say - nah. (This is also why Origins and Superstars are better than Mania, Amy)
A pattern with all this is when people who aren’t Sonic Team write for Sonic, Amy usually gets the worst treatment (not to say she is the only 1, just the worst. Sonic X in Japanese is Great for Amy. But the English try & mess it up, but you still you get good stuff for her.
Not getting into Archie because if we are grading quality of how Amy is treated, that is dead last. PS Fleetway Amy Sweep and IDW Amy is Canon which I’m happy about.
This all to say and go back to my main point about Sonic Movie 3. I have like the Sonic movies so far, 2 was fantastic, but with the Knux show, the flaws showed to it & the movies. All of it is just marketing. The movie universe isn’t here to tell stories its here to sell stuff.
Wondering what I mean by this. So far the main Sonic character in the Sonic movie are Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow and Eggman. 4 being mobians & 1 human. When looking at the merchandise for Sonic as a whole you see it plan as day it is always Sonic Tails knuckles & Shadow. (Only recently has Amy been include but she still gets left out from time to time.)
Amy is supposed to be the fourth member of team Sonic, NOT Shadow. He not only has his own team he doesn’t even like Sonic, Knuckles or Tails. Hell straight up has a vendetta against Tails. But marketing keeps pushing them together
That’s what Sonic Movie 3 is MARKETING, not a story, bc if it was Amy would be in it already. Bc we have Sonic, Eggman, Echidna Tribe, Tails, Knux, Chaos Emeralds, Pac, Shadow, Maria, Gerald, GUN & no Amy. & Shadow Fans will say it is perfectly fine he needs all that screen time
I want to like Shadow, but he just sucks up any light from others. Rogue on Team Rose, no Fans want Shadow alive again, Amy Rose game? No Shadow Game. Other playable characters, no only Shadow. More Sonic Characters in a Sonic Movie? No, only characters tied to Shadow. But yeah
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